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strawberrymilkgeorge · 4 years ago

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Part Seven. Cooties, Discall, and Flirting

warnings: swearing, also I used the word “flirt” so many times it no longer holds meaning so beware word count: 4k

behind the screen (irl dream x f!reader) series masterlist ultimate masterlist

A/N: putting it up here this time!!!! i liked this chap so i hope you do too!!!!! if you didn’t see the missing dms from part 3 (which are now actually in part 3), bugsy agreed to a minecraft date with dream in exchange for karl touring her on his smp!! anyway, enjoy!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

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The frosty air bit at Y/n's skin as she hurriedly shut the car door behind her, starting up her car in an attempt to find warmth as quickly as possible. "Why do I live here?" she asked through chattered teeth, causing Naomi to laugh.

"It's not that cold!"

"I don't know how you're okay with this."

"Do you want me to drive? You're so stiff you'll crash,” Naomi offered as she looked at Y/n.

"I'm fine, I just need to warm up for a second," Y/n assured as she rubbed her hands together in front of the heater.

Naomi giggled and took her hands, rubbing them to help heat them up.

"Thank you, ma'am."

"Now hurry up, I have a work meeting in like 30 minutes."

"What?" she gasped, quickly putting her gloves back on. "Why didn't you tell me? I wouldn't have spent so much time looking at Christmas decorations!"

"I'm just kidding. But Karl will be mad if he has to wait for his food any longer."

"You're seriously the worst." She smacked Naomi's arm and started driving, much less panicked than a few moments prior.

"You love me."

"Whatever. How's your internship going by the way?"

Naomi sighed. "Good. It's really hard to be motivated to go since it's unpaid but it's the last thing I need to graduate so I have to do it."

"But you enjoy it, right? I mean it's what you want to do."

"Yeah, no, I love it. I just wish I was getting paid so I didn't have to work at the grocery store too. I wish I could get paid to play video games like you."

Y/n deflated slightly. She hated when people put it like that, it made her sound like it wasn't a real job but it was challenging in its own way. "I'll teach you how to pvp and you'll be on your way to the top."

"Maybe then I could actually meet George myself instead of waiting around for you to do it."

"Wait!" Y/n gasped. "Did I not... did I not tell you about the other night?"

"Uh... I guess not? What happened?"

Y/n squealed. "Dude! Make a Discord account right now. Get your phone out and make one."

"Why? What is that?"

"It's the thing we all use to voice call during streams and in private and stuff. Come on!" Y/n used her right hand to urge Naomi to grab her phone. "George said you can't have his number but you can have his Discord."

"Wait, really??" Naomi gasped. "Wait, what does that mean!? I can talk to him on it!?"

Y/n laughed. "Yes, yes! You can text or voice call or even video call but I don't suggest that right away. Don't scare him away."

"He really said he'd add me back? Wait, when did you talk to him about me?"

"On Dream's stream. After the movie, I went and talked to them for a few hours."

"Is that why I heard you giggling at four in the morning?"

Y/n felt her cheeks heat up. "Okay, well, that was just with Dream. George and Sapnap left the call around one and two."

"Date."

"Sounds to me like someone doesn't want GeorgeNotFound's Discord..."

Y/n saw Naomi cower shyly. "Sorry. Please give it to me."

"I don't know it off the top of my head, silly. So be nice for the rest of the car ride and I'll get it when we get home."

"Is Karl meeting us at our apartment or his?"

"Ours. Can you tell him we're almost there?"

"I don't know if I have the strength to... talk to someone who's such good friends with... my love..." Naomi started with a dramatic sigh, "it just reminds me of the pain I go through daily... without him..."

"If that were true, you couldn't talk to me. I'm also good friends with Mr. Not Found."

Naomi threw her head to glare at Y/n, who just laughed. "Come on, text Karl. Please. His food will get cold."

Y/n watched as Naomi typed away on her phone. Soon, the two pulled up to their apartment complex and headed upstairs. Y/n turned the corner and walked down the hall to see Karl standing at their front door.

"KARL JACOBS! WE HAVE FOOD!"

He looked up quickly from his phone and beamed at them. "My heroes!"

"What are you doing outside, silly?" Y/n asked. "Don't you have a key?"

"Naomi made me give it back after I pulled that prank on you guys last month," he explained as Y/n unlocked the door.

"Well deserved. I still find glitter everywhere."

Y/n set the food on the counter and the other two crowded around. "Thank you, mother, for lunch," Karl joked and kissed her cheek loudly, his love language of physical touch jumping out of him. Y/n grimaced playfully as she wiped her cheek on her shoulder.

"GROSS!!! COOTIES!"

Karl pouted. "I thought we were best fwends, Y/n . Best fwends don't have cooties."

"You do. You're a boy."

Y/n's phone lit up as Karl started going on a joking rant about how Y/n always is so mean to his affections and he can't help wanting to show his friends he loves them and how she's so mean and, "Y/n you're not even listening to my complaints how are we supposed to be best friends when you're too busy talking to your boyfriend all the time and—"

"Boyfriend?" Y/n looked up quickly, worried he had seen the text from Peter that she just read. He was still trying to convince her to talk to him even after she bluntly told him no and why.

Karl walked over to the couch with his food and sat next to Naomi. "I was just joking... why, is there someone?" he giggled. "Dreeeaam maybe?"

Y/n shook her head, and her lack of defensiveness made Naomi and Karl look at each other. Normally she turned bright red and stumbled over her words when they joked about anyone being her boyfriend, but she was stone cold silent as her phone continued to illuminate her face.

"Y/n... What's up?" Naomi asked. "Is it Peter again?"

"Peter?" Karl's eyebrows raised and his food almost fell out of his mouth. "He's been texting you?"

Y/n sighed, locking her phone and sliding it in her pocket before finally joining her friends on the couch. "It's nothing."

"No, it's not."

"He wants to talk," Y/n mumbled.

"What?" Karl asked genuinely.

"I said he wants to talk."

Karl just stared for a few moments before looking at Naomi, who nodded, then back at Y/n. "You're not going to, right? Right? You've got to be kidding me, Y/n, he's a selfish dick and he's just going to keep hurting you. Why do you keep giving him the benefit of the doubt when he's proven time and time again that he's nothing but a fuc—"

"Karl!" Y/n interrupted. "I'm obviously not going to talk to him."

Karl's face flushed, probably embarrassed that he had assumed the worst and ranted. He sighed, exasperated. "Why don't you just block him already?"

Y/n shrugged. "He's harmless now that I don't let his words get to me."

"I'm just glad you finally decided not to meet up with him," Naomi said.

Y/n shrugged like it was an obvious choice, but deep down she couldn't help but think about the exact reason she had come to that decision. Besides all the pain he had caused her, how could she consider getting back together with her ex when she finds herself giddy about talking to someone else over Discord? Simple: she couldn't. The possibility of liking Dream briefly crossed her mind, and she knew that in the few weeks she had talked to him, the faceless man she had never met in real life made her feel better about herself than her ex-boyfriend ever did in the two years they dated. She wasn't sure quite what that meant, but she knew it was something.

"Can I have George's Dis...call or whatever it's called now? Please?"

Y/n laughed at the failed attempt at remembering the name of the application and pulled out her phone, directing Naomi on where to add friends and listing off his name and hashtag. Naomi then gave Y/n her name so she could tell George who to add back. "There, now leave me alone about George for the rest of your life."

Naomi giggled giddily before going to her room, eyes glued to her phone for the moment he would add her back.

"I'm sorry for being so bossy when it comes to Peter," Karl muttered.

Y/n shrugged and cuddled into the couch, hugging a pillow to her stomach. "I get that he was awful, but you have to trust me to know what to do."

"I do! I promise I trust you but..." Karl paused to groan, "but he just makes my blood boil. I've never hated anyone in my life but I would love to slice his head off if I ever got the chance."

"Thank you for being protective, but I promise I can handle myself."

Karl looked at her sadly. "Why did you stay with him for so long? Even after he cheated on you and said all those horrible things?"

She shrugged shamefully. "I had no one else."

"You had me and Naomi! Y/n, you've never been alone."

"That's not what I mean, Karl. I love you guys so much but it's not the same as dating someone, you know?"

"I guess..." he sighed. "But wouldn't you rather be alone than with someone who's so possessive you're afraid to tell him about your real job?"

Y/n dropped her shoulders. He had a point. She really shouldn't have stayed with Peter as long as she did. He was scary. "Yeah."

A scream from the other room snapped them out of their serious conversation. "HE ADDED ME BACK!"

Y/n laughed and Karl shook his head. "Poor George. He's about to regret so much," she predicted.

"Noooo... I'm sure he and Naomi will get along great," Karl argued. "They'll be friends at least."

"Maybe. Hey, any updates about cameragirl?"

Karl blushed immediately and Y/n smiled.

"Is that a yes??"

"I... may have... finally spoken to her. Y/n, she's so cute. Like, she's so nice and I want to protect her from everything."

"What did you guys talk about?!" Y/n gasped, sitting up quickly.

"You're going to be so disappointed in me..."

"Did you talk about Sonic the Hedgehog again? Karl, I swear—"

"No! But I only said like two words."

"What two words?"

"Um, I said hi, and then she asked how I was and I said good."

"KARL!"

"I know!" he said as he buried his face in his hoodie sleeves. "I'm the worst! I don't know how to talk to her! She's so cute!!!"

Y/n laughed endearingly and pulled his hands away. "My offer still stands, I'll teach you how to flirt if you want."

"No, I still don't believe that you can actually flirt."

"I totally can, but fine. Ask Naomi to help you if you don't trust me. She'd teach you if you want." Y/n looked down at her phone as it lit up with notifications from Twitter.

As if he knew by the smile on her face who it was, Karl challenged, "Flirt with Dream to prove you can."

"I have nothing to prove to you," Y/n mumbled, standing up. "But he wants to call me so I'm going to my room. You're welcome to stay here or go home since Naomi's still in her room too."

"Mkay," Karl said. "I'll just stay here for now. Thanks again for the food."

"No problem, dude." Y/n disappeared to her room and opened Discord on her computer, waiting for Dream to call her. She answered when he finally did.

"Hi, Dream," she smiled into her headset.

"Hi, Bug. What are you up to?"

"Nothing. I was just explaining to Karl how good I am at flirting because he doesn't believe that I'm good."

"I don't either."

"What?" she laughed. "Why does no one think I can? Have you seen all the thirsty people flirting with me on Twitter? You included."

"Yeah, but you hardly flirt back. You just insult us."

"I can flirt when I want to."

"Prove it."

"...I don't want to."

"Why? Because you can only flirt with your boyfriend?"

"Are you trying to get me to admit I have a secret lover?"

"Yes."

"Well too bad, I don't."

"Interesting... so you," he paused, careful with his words, "so you decided... not to listen to whats-his-face?"

"Mhm," she hummed, not trusting her voice to stay steady. Why was she nervous? She crossed her fingers hoping that he wouldn't ask how or why she came to that conclusion. She didn't have a lie ready to hide the fact that it might have something to do with Dream.

"Then there's no reason you can't flirt with me."

Y/n sighed dramatically but still smiled. "Why did you call me? Just to make fun of my flirting abilities?"

"No, I called because I'm bored."

"Wow, so I'm just a backup when GeorgeNotFound and Sapnap are busy?"

"Actually, I called you before I tried either of them."

"Interesting..." she mocked him and he scoffed.

"Stop changing the subject and flirt with me!!! Give me your best pickup line!! Why won't you?"

"How about because I reserve flirting for people who deserve it?"

"Oh, it's that good, huh? You have to be on a VIP list to be flirted with by you?"

"Yeah," she laughed, completely joking. "It's life-changing."

"How do I get on that list?"

"Why do you want me to flirt with you so bad, you weirdo?"

"Because you said it's life-changing! And because I just don't believe that you're good at flirting."

"Why? What about me screams that I'm an awkward mess?"

"Everything!" he laughed. "Every time I've witnessed anyone flirt with you you just get all embarrassed and change the subject. Or on Twitter when we flirt with you, you almost always just reject us outright. People like that aren't smooth."

"Fine. I'll flirt with you, Dream. Not now but when you least expect it and it'll leave you so speechless that you'll never question me again."

"Good. I'm excited."

She snorted lightly and shook her head. "You're ridiculous."

"Oh, hey, you know how I said Sapnap, George, and I wanted to do a big hangout thing with everyone?"

"Yes! Is it happening??"

"Yeah! We still don't know exactly when but George mentioned he thinks New Year's Eve and New Year's Day are stupid holidays so we want to get everyone together in person for that to prove it's a great holiday."

"I mean... I'm kinda with George on this one," Y/n agreed.

"What?! How? It's the start of a New Year! It's an excuse to kiss someone and you start the year with all your friends and loved ones and-"

"It's literally just another day. The only thing that changes is people accidentally put the wrong year when they write dates down for the first month."

Dream laughed. "That's stupid. No. It's a good holiday."

"Whatever. You'll just have to prove to me that it's good."

"I will."

"And the thing you said about having an excuse to kiss someone is stupid. If you wanna kiss someone, just kiss them."

"That easy, huh?"

"Yes."

Dream hummed thoughtfully, a mischievously playful tone to it that made Y/n change the subject slightly to spare her heart from beating too hard.

"So he's coming for New Years'?"

"Okay, yeah, so he doesn't know exactly what date but we're trying to get as many of our friends as we can to come so we have to plan around everyone. Also obviously you and Karl and Naomi are invited."

"Oh, Naomi too? Good, because I think they're talking to each other right now."

"They are," Dream laughed. "George texted me when she added him and he panicked because he doesn't know how to talk to girls."

"What?!" Y/n gasped in offense. "That's his and my thing! Why didn't he text me panicking??"

"He said he was going to text you but since it's your friend he felt awkward."

She grunted. "Fine. I guess that makes sense. Except, I know her better than anyone so I'd be waaay more helpful than you."

"You saying I don't know how to talk to girls?"

"I mean, you've used so many pickup lines on me on Twitter and I'm still not wowed, so yeah, I'd say you aren't as smooth as you'd like to think."

"Bug! What?! I'm totally good at talking to girls," Dream tried to defend, pulling excuses out of his ass. "I just haven't used my best tactics because you're easier to scare away than most. As I said, you can't dish it or take it so I have to use special moves."

"They still haven't worked." The quick beating of her heart and shaking of her hands informed her that that was a lie. Every time he replied to her tweets, the painful grin on her face proved it was a big, fat lie. Maybe she was a little impressed at his "special moves" but she wasn't going to ever admit that to him.

"Whatever, you liar. Anyway, we were thinking of renting a cabin on a lake or something like that for everyone to stay in."

"Oh! Yes, that sounds so fun! I love lake houses so much."

"Good. I'm gonna talk to George and the other brits and see if that's doable. It's gonna happen. I promise. I'm tired of not seeing my friends."

"Wait, how many people are you guys thinking? I'm still nervous about showing people my face..."

"It's a rough list but basically Sapnap, George, Quackity, Karl, Wilbur, Niki, um, Tubbo, Tommy, who else.... I think that's it right now. We'll make sure you know them and are comfortable with them so you don't feel pressured to show strangers who you are."

She nodded to herself. "Okay. I could also just not come if I'm not comfortable with someone—"

"What?!" he asked loudly, genuinely surprised. "Wha— no. We just wouldn't invite them."

"But—"

"I'd way rather have you there than anyone else. Hell, I'd kick George or Sapnap out if you didn't want to show them your face."

"Wait, really?"

"No pressure but I really want you to come and I want to make sure your comfortable."

"What if I don't want to show you my face?"

There was a long pause and Y/n knew he was trying to control his voice so she didn't know he was disappointed or slightly offended. "I mean... I don't know. I guess I... wouldn't go."

Her heart cracked at the sadness in his voice.

"I really don't want you to be pressured into—"

"Dream," she said. "It's okay. I'm probably most comfortable with meeting you over anyone else."

"Really?"

She didn't trust her voice not to sound too sappy and giddy. She didn't trust it a lot when she was around Dream. "Mhm."

"I'm glad," he said happily but softly. "It will be fun. Also, give me your phone number."

"So forward of you, Dream."

"Shut up, I wanna make a group chat."

Y/n laughed and told him her number. "I'm really excited now, Dream! I haven't hung out with people in so long and it sounds like a fun little vacation."

Dream laughed at her excitement. "I just want to hug the shit out of George."

It was Y/n's turn to laugh loudly. "Have you met him in real life yet?"

"No."

"I doubt he'll even let you touch him. He doesn't seem touchy."

"I don't think he is but I don't care. I am very touchy so he won't have a choice but to hug me."

"Ugh, another touchy person. Gross."

"Are you not?"

"Not really. Karl is the touchiest person I have ever met so he's kinda rubbed off on me a little over the years I think, but in general no."

"Oh, yeah, he's already threatened to kiss all of us as soon as we meet," Dream said with a laugh.

"Best to just let it happen. He pouted earlier because I wiped my cheek after he kissed it."

"That doesn't sound like something someone who can flirt would do."

"Because I'm not flirting with Karl!" Y/n groaned but a laugh was behind her words. "What is with you guys?"

"You just can't be on Karl and my level of flirting if we don't see it! Can't be in the gang if you don't show us your skill."

"Just you wait, Dream. You'll see."

"Wait, what about our Minecraft date?"

"What about it?"

"When we do that, you have to flirt with me!"

"No, I don't," she protested with a loud laugh.

"Um, I'm pretty sure it's very rude to not sweet-talk your date. You have to flirt with me then."

Y/n giggled. "Oh yeah? And what if I don't?" She hadn't meant for her voice to come out laced with something suggestive, but if Dream noticed, he thankfully didn't show it.

"Well, we'll just have to keep going on dates until you do."

"Pretty sure forcing someone on dates is illegal, buddy."

Dream laughed. "You agreed to it!!"

"I agreed to the first one," she corrected. "I agreed to one date in exchange for you letting Karl tour me around your server. One."

"Don't worry." Unlike Y/n's, Dream's voice was purposefully laced with something suggestive as he told her, "after our date, it won't take much for you to agree to more."

"Oh whatever," she scoffed, trying to cool her face down with her icy hands. Even they were no match for the heat on her cheeks. "When are we doing this stupid thing anyway?"

"Ah, the smooth talking has begun, I see."

"Dreeeamm..." she whined, growing increasingly tired of the butterflies in her stomach. Why did she suddenly feel so nervous around him? It's not sudden, she told herself.

Dream's cute laugh interrupted her thoughts. "What about tomorrow?"

"I'm streaming Among Us tomorrow."

He groaned. "You never make time for me."

"I cannot stand you," she joked, laughs slipping through her annoyed voice and blowing her cover. "You're the one who said you were too busy to join my lobby. So really you don't make time for me."

"No, no, no," he protested. "I'd make time for one-on-one time with you, just not a game where I hardly get to talk to you."

"Oh my gosh." She rolled her eyes. "How did you turn this around to sound cute again."

"Aw, Bug, you think I'm cute?"

"You ruined it by asking. What are you doing tomorrow anyway?"

"I have to finish a plug-in by tomorrow night so George and I can test it. There's still a lot to fix so it'll probably will take all day."

"Oooh," she cooed. "What's it do?"

"It changes the world every time we take damage," he explained with a hint of pride in his voice.

"What the! That sounds awesome!"

"Thanks," he said shyly, proudness gone now that he was being complimented. "Anyway, George is really busy next week so we have to test it tomorrow night so we can record the next day."

"You probably should finish it then."

"Or you could cancel your stream and we could go on a date."

"Dream!" She laughed. "No! How about next week. Between you editing the video you record, we go on a Minecraft date. How's Thursday?"

"I guess I could fit you into my schedule..."

"I hate you."

His cheeky grin could be heard through his stupid words. "Keep telling yourself that."

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A/N: *sniff* *sniff* yall smell a hater in those twitter screenshots?? hmmm.....

taglist: OPEN (At the time) (if your blog is in bold, i couldnt tag you, so check your settings so that blogs that dont follow you can tag you!!) @hydrate-tion @loraleiix @tinaswagbd @charsdummb @smileyyuta @1ghoste1 @cerberus-hellhound @gaysludge @queestionmark @carnations-red @letsloveimagines @the-fictionwriters-hairdo @boiled-onionrings @a-cryptic @fee-btheweeb @erwinss @just-a-stan @axths @kayleigh2703 @furiouspockettoad @sometimeseverythingsucks @powerpuffyn @itshaileyn @millavalntyne @automaticcomputerpaper @nikkineeky @fivedicksinatrenchcoat @sprucekot @jabby16 @mae-musicbitch @hungoverhellhound @dreamyteam @kuroo-icedtea @stuffforreferences @menacingaesthetic @sapphic-soot @fangeekkk @haseulreturns @queenwastaken @peteysgf @losingvienna @bi-narystars @zero-nightshade @erinitoburrito @sparklykeylime @youhyakuya @danny-devitowo @clubfairy @loser-keiji @oi-itsemily @alm334 @katastrophe-kam @wreny24 @unicornblood4ever @brendalopez99 @spacecluster @justonemoreepisode199 @strawbrinkofdeath @aha-red

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klaineficroulettechallenge-us · 3 years ago

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Chapter 15By GleefulPoppet

“You what?” a female voice bellowed from the side of the stage, and Sebastian’s head shot in her direction. Sue Sylvester was looking at him with a face that could murder.

At least, he assumed it was Sue. Dave had warned him that there was a 12-foot tall, terrifying woman that always wore tracksuits who would smell his bullshit from a mile away. She was scary enough. Even more shocking was that the voice came out of a petite, red-haired woman standing next to her, who looked like she’d walked right out of a magazine ad from the 1950s with her hands on her hips, tapping her foot.

“Who the hell are you?”Sebestian spat out at her. He started to panic when he realized this plan might not have been so well thought out and that there were at least six adults at the side of the stage staring at him.

“We might ask you the same question, young man!” Principal Figgins said, taking a step forward. “Sue, if you might be so kind, let’s take this ruffian to my office.” He shook his head and made a tsk tsk sound as he looked at Sebastian with pity. “Imagine doubting something like hashtag Klaine? You must have blinders on, young man. Ms. Pilsbury, if you might join us?”

She nodded, and with more venom in her voice than anyone knew she was capable of, she asked, “How did you get in here?” She’d worked too hard with all of these students over the years to allow someone to come rushing in here and ruin their Senior Prom.

When Sebastian didn’t answer, Sue finally had enough and charged forward, ready to drag him out.

His eyes went wide in surprise at seeing her headed towards him, and he jutted his chin toward Dave and Landon, who were down in the crowd, front and center. “Dave Karofsky.”

Sue gave a menacing glare and held up two fingers, pointing to her eyes and then at Dave and Landon and back again. “In the office. Now.” She flicked her head toward the right exit. “Everyone else, carry on with this disgusting display of love-sick, doe-eyed croaking!” She grabbed the mic from Sebastian and shoved it back into Kurt’s hand. As she passed by Kurt and Blaine with a firm hand on Sebastian's shoulder, ushering him from the stage, she whispered, “In the office when your duet and the next Glee Club performance are over. No excuses. Don’t make me come looking for you.”

“Back to the festivities, children! On with the show, as they say. Yes. Yes,” Principal Figgins said as they exited the stage.

Three teachers and three teens disappeared through the gymnasium doors. Everyone cheered, and the gossip started buzzing through the air faster than a swarm of bees.

Kurt looked at Blaine and then down at their hands. “Oh, god! Are you okay? I didn't realize how hard I was squeezing your hand.”

“Huh?” Blaine shook his head to clear the shock, looking down and seeing that their skin was pale and their fingertips dark purple from clinging to each other. “Looks like it was mutual. I’m fine. You okay, love?”

Before Kurt could answer, an intense drum rift got everyone’s attention, and the band played the intro to their duet song, just a bit faster-paced this time.

“Sing it, boys!” Santana yelled.

They grinned at each other, knowing that they had promised they wouldn’t let Sebastian ruin this for them. They winked and jumped back into the song. Whatever would happen to them later in the office could wait. Right then, it was their moment, and they were going to take it. They hammed up the dance even more and spun each other across the stage, causing everyone to laugh. They waggled their eyebrows and blew kisses as they worked the cheering crowd, and when they sang the final lines, they gazed into each other’s eyes.

And if I had to walk the world, I'd make you fall for me.I promise you, I promise you I willI will, I will

With the last note, Blaine leaned over and kissed Kurt. It was quick yet filled with all his devotion. Kurt playfully popped his foot up behind him, and when they pulled apart, he had the biggest grin. He turned his head toward the crowd and, with an exaggerated wink, fanned his face, tipping his head towards Blaine. A chorus of laughter blew across the dance floor, and everything seemed back to normal.

“Vote Klaine for Prom Kings! Voting ends after this next song from the Glee Club!”

The Glee Club joined them on stage, and together, they put on a perfect performance of “Here’s to Us!,” utilizing everyone’s talents and voices, including brilliant choreography by Brittany and Mike. The energy in the room became palpable as the DJ took over, playing a club mix of “We Could be Heroes” that got everyone jumping.

The parent and teacher committee took the ballot boxes out one door, and no one noticed Blaine and Kurt slip away, hand in hand, out another to face whatever they were about to find waiting for them in the office.

—*—

“Aww... Boys. Nice. Thanks for joining us,” Principal Figgins said as he opened the glass door for them. “Your parents have been called and should be here shortly.”

“What?” Kurt and Blaine said at the same time.

“Let’s just all sit tight and wait for them. Some of the accusations flying around between these two,” he pointed between Dave and Sebastian, “are quite serious. And we need your parents here.”

“My parents are—” Blaine cut himself off and closed his eyes. His parents were going out on a date, and he wanted that for them. His dad had been working a lot, and it sometimes took a toll on his mom. He opened his eyes when Kurt squeezed his hand to get his attention and tugged on him.

There was only one seat left in the room at the end of the couch that Landon and Dave were sitting on, so Kurt sat down and then pulled Blaine down onto his lap, wrapped his hands around his waist, and offered a simple kiss in the middle of his back in silent reassurance. He smiled when he saw Dave and Landon discreetly finding comfort by rubbing a finger against each other's hands.

The following seven minutes were the longest torture of their lives as the tick tick tick of the clock seemed slower with each second that passed.

The first person to arrive was Mr. Smythe, pointing to his son. “Sebastian, you are in more hot water than you can dare to imagine. Not the least of which is I was already on my way here, using your location because I came home early, and low and behold, you weren’t in your room, grounded and where you belong. You will not speak unless spoken to. Now, tell me. What the hell is going on here?” He looked to Principal Figgins.

“We’d love to know that, too,” Burt said from the doorway and then walked in with Carole and Blaine’s parents right behind him. The office was suddenly stifling with eight adults and five petrified teenagers crammed into it.

“Yes. Of course. Thank you for coming so quickly. I have contacted Dave’s father—who is out of town. He said Dave may speak for himself and requested that he be informed of these happenings in a call tomorrow morning. Landon seems innocent in whatever shenanigans are happening here and would like to stay with Dave since his parents cannot be here. Does anyone have any objections?”

“No,” several of the parents said in unison.

“Well, let’s start from the beginning then. Dave, if you will.”

“Uhm... So, I was a jerk? I treated Kurt like crap for years. And man, I just—It took me a while to get my act together. And Kurt, he just kept being cool, you know? He was never cruel back. So, I took that to mean he…could maybe… You know, like me one day. No one had ever been kind to me or understood what I was going through except him. So, I fixated on it—on him. I’m so, so sorry. I was over the top about it all. It wasn’t until... Not until…” He looked over at Landon with a nervous smile. “Well, I guess I know what it feels like now to actually have that go two ways. I did some stupid stuff. I know I did. I’m truly sorry.” He looked at Kurt and hoped that he knew how sincere he was.

“Tell us about the phone, please,” Principal Figgins prompted.

“Right. Uhh... So, Sebastian convinced me to clone Kurt’s SIM card from his locker.”

“You did what?” Burt said.

Dave shrugged. “I followed the exact directions and software Sebastian gave me, cloned it, met him after school, and handed it over. I didn’t do anything with it. I swear I didn’t.”

Sebastian turned red and let out a small, threatening growl.

“What the hell, Sebastian?” his dad roared.

“Seb has been using it to spy on them and prove they were fake dating or something because he wants to—Uhh... Well, you know…with Blaine. He…” Dave turned bright red.

“That’s what got you into this mess, isn’t it? It’s why you’re grounded until June! You can’t keep it in your pants. First, the testing and medication, and now this? Dammit!”

Blaine chimed in, horrified by the implications of sexual diseases. He’d been tested twice to ensure he hadn’t gotten anything from his cheating ex. Luckily, the universe had spared him that particular consequence. “He’s been harassing me since we broke up, texting constantly. He sent me a picture of his private parts in various...uh…stages. I’ve blocked his numbers three times now.”

Mr. Smythe looked at his son, shaking his head. “Convenient. I heard three sob stories about how your phones have been stolen or broken when I confronted you about the credit card bill.” He looked to Blaine and took a deep breath. “Do I dare ask how old you were when he sent this picture—or was it pictures?”

“Seventeen.”

He whistled and looked over at Blaine’s dad, who offered him his hand.

“Charles Anderson. I’m a lawyer as well. I’m very much aware that you’re a State’s Attorney for Ohio. I’m sure you’re aware we can press charges for distributing pornography to my son, a minor at the time. After he told me about the pictures, I prepared the documents and collected our phone records. We didn’t pursue it when they stopped. In light of this new information, though…”

“I won’t try to talk you out of it if you think it’s the right course of action. He deserves what is coming to him,” Mr. Smythe said as he put his arms up in surrender. “I’ve given him too many chances. I’m done.”

“There is also the issue of this SIM card. As you know, copying a card is not illegal unless you have the express intention of gathering personal data. So, I think Dave here,” he waved over to him, “is off the hook on a technicality since he did it solely with the intention of giving it to Sebastian and didn’t use the card. However, if your son has been using it to gather information about Kurt, that is a second-degree felony.”

Kurt interjected, “He sent Blaine false texts that looked like they were from me, trying to lure Blaine into being alone with him and other situations where he would think he was meeting me, and it was actually Sebastian,”

“You knew? You knew he was cloning your phone, Kurt?” Burt asked, flabbergasted.

Kurt’s eyes went wide, shock on his face. “Uhm... Yes?”

“And it didn’t occur to you to come to me? To go to Ms. Pilsbury or the principal and get help from an adult? Kurt, come on, kid! You’re smarter than that. What were ya thinkin’?”

“Honestly, I don’t know. Blaine and I—We were—I was caught up in the drama of all of it, what was happening in our relationship and with Dave and Seb and Prom and graduation, and I don’t know. I’m sorry, Dad. It’s the most obvious solution now, and I’m pretty ashamed of myself.”

“I knew, too,” Blaine said sheepishly. “That is inexcusable. It didn’t even occur to me. I was so lost in my hate for Sebastian. It was all so stupid. And the pictures were the worst. I don’t know. We were trying to handle it on our own.”

“Yes. Well, we can all see how well that went,” Charles said.

“I'm sorry, Dad,” Blaine said. His eyes welled up with tears. He hated disappointing his father, although the way Kurt wrapped his arms tighter around him in comfort helped tremendously.

“We’ll talk about this later. I’m livid you didn’t tell me about the SIM card. That being said, I can see you kids have been going through plenty. Let's not let this ruin your Senior Prom, alright?”

Blaine nodded, his voice timid when he replied, “Thank you, Dad. That’s extremely generous.”

“What else needs to be addressed?” Ms. Pilsbury asked, trying to get all eyes off Blaine, who was clearly upset with himself.

“Being a State’s Attorney, I’m going to call in some favors. I can skip about 20 steps to getting a restraining order filed against my son,” Mr. Smythe gritted the word between his teeth, “on behalf of both Blaine and Kurt—and Dave, if needed. I can also assure you that after graduation, Seb will be going on a nice, long internship somewhere, like an ice fishing boat in Alaska or coal mining in some dark cave, so he can think about the choices he’s making, throwing away his life like this. I’m not expending for Harvard until he gets his act together and actually goes to the counseling I'm paying for. He’s also being financially cut off until improvements are made. Just because you're smart doesn’t make you wise. And if he dares disappoint me again tonight, he might wake up with a tracking anklet on his person tomorrow.”

“Dad!” Sebastian shouted, tears springing to his eyes as anger suddenly spread like wildfire up his neck and cheeks.

“Is this amiable?” Mr. Smythe looked between Burt and Charles.

The fathers looked at their sons, who looked at each other, nodding.

“We just want him to leave us alone and stop harassing us,” Blaine said. He didn’t want Sebestain’s whole life to be ruined, yet the guy had shown no remorse, and he needed to learn there were consequences to his actions.

After Burt, Carole, Charles, and Pam went into the hall to discuss it for a moment, they came back in and agreed. They exchanged contact information with Mr. Smythe to get everything in order, and then Sebastian was escorted by the elbow firmly out of the office by his father. “Idiots, all of you!” he said under his breath on the way out.

“Aww... Yes. A little trip to Alaska should cool him off nicely. As for you, Dave, you have two weeks of detention for breaking into a locker. And you are hanging by a thread for suspension. Understand?” Mr. Figgins asked.

“Yes, sir. I will be on my best behavior until graduation.”

“Good. Good. Now, is everything fine here? Everyone is happy? Yes,” he said without waiting for an answer. “Then let’s see if Klaine won Prom Kings. With the roar coming from the auditorium, things are getting frenzied. Let’s rejoin the party.”

Blaine received a hug from his parents, and Kurt got one from Burt and Carole. They assured them that, while they were unhappy with them not coming to them about the SIM card and a discussion was to be held, they genuinely wanted them to have a nice Prom night. They all blushed, thinking about the awkward conversation about being allowed to get a hotel room for the night because they were both 18 now. At least they’d be somewhere safe and not sneaking around, and of course, there was the clichéd, “We were teenagers in love once, too,” which made Kurt and Blaine want to gag. No. Just no. No kid can imagine their parents having sex, thank you very much. Then the room was filled with the harmony of six people clearing their throats and exiting the office with smiles and promises to see each other in the morning.

Once in the hall, Blaine held his hand out for Kurt and kissed him on the cheek. “I can’t believe our parents were out on a double date. That’s sort of cool. We’ve all hung out before at family dinners, but they met up. I sort of love that. Like, we were all absorbed in Prom, and meanwhile, the parental units were texting each other to go get cheesecake while we’re on a date.”

“It’s adorable. I hope we’re like that someday. You know, when we have kids. I want to be friends with their dates’ parents.”

Blaine’s step faltered, and he yanked Kurt gently to a stop. “When we have kids?” he asked with wide eyes, full of excitement at the implications of that.

“Mmhm... When we have kids.” He leaned in and kissed Blaine’s lips, and oh, god, it felt so incredible. It felt like slipping his feet into his favorite Alexander McQueen boots, molded perfectly to his feet: flawless, comfortable, and ready for adventure.

“Kurt! Blaine! For hell’s sake! This isn’t French class! Get in here. They need us on stage. Now!” Santana yelled and pointed to the doors.

A few minutes later, in a blur of activity, Kurt and Blaine stood on the stage with the other nominees. The adults were droning on about this and that when all the students just wanted to know one thing.

“And now, without further ado, this year’s Prom Queen is…” Mr. Figgins opened the envelope and smiled. “A tie for the lovely Cheerio duo of Santana and Brittany! Congratulations!”

Ms. Pilsbury carried over two crowns and grinned. “We planned ahead for this. I hoped you’d win,” she whispered between them as she handed one to Brittany to put on Santana’s head and then gave the other to Santana to place on her girlfriend, which she did with a sweet kiss on her cheek. “You ladies look beautiful. Congratulations.” She stepped back and waved an arm out, presenting them to the applauding students, catcalls and hollers mixed in.

“Achievement! Good. Fine. And your Prom King is…” After he pulled the card out, he smiled and waited for at least four eternal seconds.

“Tell us!” someone screamed from the back. Everyone started chanting, “Tell us! Tell us!”

“Your Prom Kings are hashtag Klaine! Kurt and Blaine, congratulations!”

Kurt and Blaine turned and stared at each other, shocked, then collided into each other’s arms, wrapped in a hug like they’d never shared before. It hurt in the best kind of way. They managed to take the crowns from Ms. Pilsbury and place them on each other’s heads. Neither of them were embarrassed by the few tears that escaped the corners of their eyes.

“You boys are amazing. I’m so happy for you both. Congrats.”

The opening notes of “When You Look Me in the Eyes” filled the air, and the four of them descended the stairs together and then melted into their date’s arms as they started to sway and slowly spin on the dance floor.

When you look me in the eyes,And tell me that you love meEverything's alright,When you're right here by my side

With each line of the song, the world grew progressively smaller. All that mattered was in their arms, and suddenly, it was a shocking reminder that high school was coming to an end, that in some miraculous turn of events for all of them, the most important thing they were taking away from this experience was not their diploma. It was the person in their arms.

I can't take a day without you here,You're the light that makes my darkness disappearWhen you look me in the eyes,And tell me that you love meEverything's alrightWhen you're right here by my side

Blaine had a flash of a double wedding with the girls someday and then smiled; Kurt would never go for that. He let the thoughts go and shivered at the idea of a wedding, though—no matter what it looked like—and turned, inhaled deeply in Kurt’s neck, and pressed a kiss there before he started whisper-singing some of the words to Kurt, who joined in.

'Cause when you look me in the eyesAnd tell me that you love meEverything's alrightWhen you're right here by my side

When you look me in the eyes,

I catch a glimpse of heaven

I find my paradise

When you look me in the eyes

As more and more students wandered onto the dance floor, the slow songs were eventually replaced with dance mixes. There was laughing with friends, ridiculous chain dances that included at least 50 people doing the bunny hop, hugs with everyone who was realizing this was the last dance of high school, tears, kisses, and eventually whispered longing as some students started heading out.

After finally collapsing in a chair with Blaine in his lap again, Kurt’s heart raced for an entirely different reason than the dance with Mercedes and Sam that had left them breathless. “Blaine?”

Blaine turned sideways and put his arm around Kurt’s neck. “Hi.”

Kurt’s face beamed at seeing how happy his boyfriend was. “Hi.”

“What were you going to ask me?” Blaine queried before kissing Kurt on the nose.

“I—Well, I could really use a shower. I feel disgusting. This fabric was not made to wick away sweat.” He shuddered, scrunching his face.

Blaine laughed and shook his head. “I see. And exactly what would you like me to do about your current predicament?” He walked his fingers up Kurt’s chest.

“May I be as blunt and honest as I can muster?”

Blaine’s fingers suddenly twisted in the ruffled fabric on the front of Kurt's shirt, his eyes widened, and his breath caught. “Oh, dear god, please, yes.”

“Blaine Anderson, I’ve loved you for so long. I want to take a shower with you if you’re ready. And just... We can see what happens? We don’t have to rush. We have our whole lives in front of us. Still, I’m not going to waste another day not telling you that I love you and that I’m ready for whatever is next for us.” He took a quick breath, and with determination in his eyes, he said, “I want to go to the hotel.”

Blaine’s eyes shone with understanding, and he nodded twice. “Okay.” He slid off his lap, intertwined their fingers, and without a word between them, they walked to the car, squeezing each other’s hands intermittently to make sure this was actually happening.

After driving for several miles in comfortable silence, Kurt asked, “You okay, honey?”

“Yeah. I’m so okay. You?”

“Yeah. Uhm... Can I ask you something? Do you know what a safeword is, Blaine?”

Blaine shook his head. “Not sure I know exactly. I have a vague idea, though.”

“Well, basically, we pick a word for us, and then if one of us says it—ever—during sex or in conversation, it means whatever is happening stops immediately. We take a few deep breaths and figure out what happens next.”

“Where did you learn that?”

Kurt blushed, visible even in just the faint lights from the console dash. “Uhh... Promise you won’t laugh?”

“Kurt. Of course,” Blaine said sincerely as he quickly glanced over.

“I might have read those pamphlets my dad gave me a while back. Uhm... After your parents called him this afternoon to get permission for the hotel—and he agreed after blushing as red as his favorite buffalo check flannel—I promised him I would if we were going to stay here tonight. Plus, I wanted—I wanted to be prepared.”

“Wow. Thank you. That's—Wow, Kurt.”

“It’s been a day. Reading those pamphlets and thinking about last night...”

“I haven’t stopped thinking about it,” Blaine said quietly.

“Me neither.” Kurt brought Blaine’s hand up and kissed it.

“So, the safeword. I love that idea. What word do you want?”

“Something ridiculous that won’t come up in the heat of the moment.”

“Hmm...” Blaine thought for a moment. “Like ‘Prince Humperdinck’?”

Kurt laughed. “I love you. ‘Humperdinck’ could work, though, couldn’t it?”

“Yeah. We can just try it, and we can change it later, right?”

“Right,” Kurt said. When he realized they had turned into the hotel's parking lot, he knew he had to say the next part before he lost his nerve or they lost their clothes. “Blaine. Can I—Can we talk about one more thing before we get out?”

“Always,” Blaine said as he turned off the ignition and turned towards Kurt, rubbing his fingers up and down his arm.

“I know we’ve been caught up in finally being in each other’s arms. And when you—Blaine, when you were so brave and finally told me, you said that you were mentally exhausted from trying to keep it inside.”

“I was. It had been a year. Longer, probably.”

Kurt nodded. “I wanted to tell you thank you. Thank you for…opening your heart. My heart and mind were exhausted, too, with the same ‘should I or shouldn’t I’ rhetoric that made me feel like I was sometimes on a hamster wheel. And I’ve caught myself wishing that we could get that time back. On the flip side of it, though, I keep trying to figure out why.”

“Why we didn’t say anything?”

“Yeah. And I know we talked about it last night for a minute. I have a theory, though, and before we go in there, I feel like I need to take a turn being brave and open and share my heart with you. Is that—Is that okay?”

“You were brave and open when you told me you wanted to take a shower together. And last night when you told me your boundaries. And just now, talking to me about safewords. Not to mention reading those pamphlets so we could be safe and prepared for tonight. You are brave, and you have nothing to prove to me. If you need to talk to me, though, I’m right here. And if all we do is talk tonight, that would be okay, too. You know that, right?”

A wide smile spread across Kurt’s face, and he nodded. “I appreciate that, but you and I are taking a shower together, Mr. Anderson.”

Blaine chuckled. “As you wish, Mr. Hummel. Now, tell me what’s on your mind. You get kind of cute when you get nervous.”

Kurt squeezed Blaine’s hand and let out an anxious laugh. “Whew. Okay. I have been a little hard on myself about not telling you. I’ve asked myself a million times why I didn’t, why we didn’t. And while we were dancing tonight, I think I had an epiphany.”

“Oh, yeah? And what was it?”

“Last night… Well, last night, we said we were ‘really oblivious,’ and in a way, it’s true. It’s just that I’ve been thinking about it a lot the last 24 hours, and it's so much more than that, so much more profound and deeper with a little reflection.”

“Tell me, please?” Blaine asked quietly.

“I think we always knew. And it’s a testament to how important we are to each other that we were willing to sacrifice part of what we wanted so intensely to keep the amazing foundation of friendship we already had. You are a rock in my life, Blaine, and I’m not embarrassed to say I need you. I love you first and foremost as my best friend, and I always will.”

“You’re my best friend, too, Kurt. I can’t imagine—could never imagine—my life without you in it.”

“Exactly. That’s exactly what I’m saying. And so, on the one hand, it seems ridiculous we didn’t just talk about it. We talk about everything else. Everything. On the other hand… Our friendship will always be first, and this—what we have now—is beautiful and arousing, and god, I want you so badly I feel like I’m on fire. It will never be more important to me than seeing you smile. Or more than knowing that you'll always love me, that you will defend me—even when you know I’m wrong—and that we call each other ten times a day and text non-stop at all hours of the day and night, that we like to bake cookies together and talk about life and our dreams about Broadway. We’ve always accepted each other as perfectly imperfect, Blaine. I wish I could articulate it better.”

Blaine wiped the tears off his cheek. “I think you're articulating it beautifully.”

“I never want to lose you as my best friend, and I needed you to know that before we walked in there. This can’t—” Kurt got choked up, his voice thick with his feelings. “This can’t ever lead to a horrible, nasty breakup, Blaine. We have to promise each other, please, that we’ll do whatever it takes to learn how to communicate with each other and how to grow older and be adults together.”

“I promise, Kurt. Maybe when we go to New York this summer, we should… Maybe we should...”

“What?”

“It might be a good idea for each of us to go to counseling? We’re going to be away from our parents for the first time. Plus, living together. We thought it would be as roommates; now, though, we’ll be boyfriends. And college is going to take its toll. It might be smart to—”

“I agree,” Kurt immediately stated. “Ms. Pilsbury, she pulled me aside a few days ago and suggested it, too. I’m nervous about it. Still, I want to give us our best chance. And I know sometimes I pull away emotionally when I’m overwhelmed. Plus… With the bullying and, well, just everything we’ve gone through... Yeah.”

“Okay. We’ll look into it. We’re going to get this right, Kurt. Sometimes, it’s not going to be easy, and we can’t pretend it will be. We just have to keep doing this, being honest.” He waved between them.

Kurt nodded, his eyes radiating brighter, hopeful at Blaine’s words.

“Best friends, fearlessly and forever then, Mr. Hummel?”

“Fearlessly and forever, Mr. Anderson.”

Neither of them felt the need to fill the next few minutes with words. The anticipation spoke volumes with the way the veins in their throats pulsed, how it was hard to get a deep breath, and the way their palms became clammy. They grabbed their bags, only letting go of each other when strictly necessary to lock up the car. A short walk later, they stepped off the elevator, and Blaine slid the key into the lock of room 305 and opened the door for Kurt. He was shocked when Kurt playfully grabbed his bow tie and pulled him into the room. Letting the door shut behind them, he reached back to bolt it.

One look at each other had Blaine rushing the few feet between them and wrapping Kurt in his arms.

“I love you, Kurt. So much.”

“I love you, too. Hey, Blaine?”

“Yes, Kurt?” Blaine nuzzled into his neck, pressing dozens of kisses in a line up to his ear and loving the faint taste of salt on his skin from all the dancing they’d done.

“I’m going to kiss you now,” Kurt said breathlessly and then couldn’t move. Blaine had kissed a spot behind his ear and then laved his tongue over it, which had rendered him frozen as chills reverberated throughout his body, causing him to break into goosebumps.

Blaine kissed across Kurt's cheek, and with a final gaze, he leaned forward, slid his lips across Kurt’s as they parted, and moaned into his mouth as their curious tongues explored and danced together. In rising urgency, their jackets were removed and tossed on the chair, fumbling fingers unbuttoned shirts, the fabric cascading to the floor languidly. Their hands meticulously searched the expanse of uncovered skin. A few minutes later, their belt buckles were opened, flies were down, and then they fell into a fit of giggles, trying to take each other’s pants off when they realized their shoes really needed to come off first.

“Since the moment has passed us by, do you mind if maybe—Can I get in the shower first? And then you can join me? I feel gross, and Blaine, I want you to touch me. And I want to touch you and—”

Blaine cut in. “Kurt. Love, it’s fine. That is a good plan. Go ahead.”

“Maybe after I get my shoes off?”

Blaine laughed when he looked down at the tangled mess of chaos at their feet. “After you get your shoes off,” he replied.

Ten minutes later, Kurt told him it was okay for Blaine to enter the bathroom.

Blaine thought he'd be a nervous wreck, but he realized that he and Kurt were more than comfortable with each other and always had been. Annoyingly, he had to pee, and there was no getting around it, so he used the facilities. They both laughed at how obnoxiously loud and embarrassing something so ordinary was, even though they’d stayed in hotel rooms together before for Glee Club competitions.

“Not sorry!” Blaine said over the running water. “It had to be done some time. I mean, we do it all the time with a flimsy door between us. What’s the difference?”

“None. We don’t need to be shy about our bodies anymore, right?” Kurt said behind the shower curtain. “Or at least we can try.” Kurt laughed. It was the reason he went in there first, and he didn’t even think it was selfish. He couldn’t have found the courage to break that boundary first.

“So, with that romantic segue, may I please get in with you now?”

“Um... Yeah. I mean, I’m hard. Is that okay? It’s just...” Kurt trailed off. “Holy hell! Yes. It’s okay, love.” Blaine was getting that way fast. He took a deep breath and slid the shower curtain back slowly. He almost fell to his knees. “Oh, Kurt... Oh. My. God. You’re so beautiful. I’m—”

At the same time, Kurt said, “Blaine!” He covered his gaping mouth with one hand. “You’re stunning! Wait. Wait. Why are you laughing and crying?” Kurt could see how turned on Blaine was, so he didn’t take any personal offense to it; he just didn’t understand.

“Look at you! I’m crying because I’m in awe and so in love with you. And laughing because this can’t be real. You’re too gorgeous. This is some elaborate dream.”

“I’m looking at you, honey. Not me. Have you seen you?”

Blaine didn’t even register what Kurt said. He couldn’t stop staring as he took in an entirely naked Kurt. The previous night had been marvelous, but this… His brain was short-circuiting. He could see the whole picture now: every muscle of Kurt's body and how they connected in his long, lithe limbs, every purple vein, the dusting of freckles, and the coarse trail of hair he’d gotten a hint at the day before now led down to his perfectly groomed cock that was larger than Blaine had even imagined it would be when he saw Kurt in some of those pants he wore. “I’m Kurtsexual. That is all there is to it.”

Kurt laughed, the water dripping down his face and off his chin. “You’re what?”

“Did I say that out loud?”

“You did, as a matter of fact. Would you like to get in here with me, or should we continue gawking at each other like the awkward teens we are?” Blaine still seemed dazed. “Blaine, look at me. I mean my eyes, please?”

He immediately looked up. “I’m sorry. I’m being rude. You really are magnificent, though.”

“Thank you. I don’t think I mind you looking. Maybe—Can I—Let me wash you? Get in with me?”

Blaine nodded and stepped tentatively into the shower, putting his hands on Kurt’s hips.

Kurt squirted some of the mandarin mint body wash he’d brought for them into his hands and rubbed it into a rich lather. “Can I touch you now?”

“Yes. Whatever you want. We have our safeword, too, right?”

“Right.”

“I’m not going to last. I’m sorry. I think the first time you touch me, I’m going to—”

Kurt leaned his forehead against Blaine’s. “I understand. Believe me, I do. It’s us, sweetheart. We don’t need to be embarrassed or afraid. We have all night. Let’s just let this happen. We don’t have to hold back from each other anymore. Not ever again.”

“Okay,” Blaine whispered.

Kurt watched as he slid his hands down his boyfriend's chest to that perfect “V” and further until he finally brushed his fingertips across Blaine’s sac and then over his thick erection a few times before he wrapped his hand around it and stroked it twice. His thoughts ran wild. Oh, my god. I’m touching Blaine. This is us connected. He feels so incredible. The way he fits in my hand and…

“Mmmnnggh! Oh, Kurt!” Blaine shouted as he threw his arms around Kurt’s neck and buried his head in his neck, cumming all over Kurt’s hand. “So, so… Oh, Kurt!”

“Blaine,” Kurt said desperately, still holding on and stroking tentatively. He’d imagined how it would be to see Blaine and finally touch him. However, nothing his mind could conjure up had prepared him for the euphoria thrumming through every cell of his body, knowing he’d made Blaine feel that good.

“Don’t let go of me,” Blaine said as he pulled back. “I think I can—Again—Oh, god. Yeah. I can.” He slid his hand down his own chest to pick up some of the lather Kurt had left behind and reached down to touch Kurt’s cock for the first time. He couldn't breathe as he closed his hand around the girth, shocked at how warm and rigid it was. The pulse from the underside vein throbbed against his palm. The smooth texture, how big it was, that it was Kurt. His Kurt that he could touch and worship now. “Love, I want to feel you cum. I want to hear you. Please don’t hold back your noises like last night.” Blaine started to stroke him as Kurt continued to do to him.

“Oh! Oh! Blaine! So damn good. It’s—No one has ever—! Blaine! I’m going to—Blaine!” he called even louder as he spilled white-hot all over Blaine’s stomach and fingers. It feels so different to have someone touch me! Yes! Yes! I love him so much! Seconds later, he shivered as Blaine blurted Kurt’s name as he orgasmed again. Kurt couldn’t help but run his fingers through it, fascinated. Someday, I want to taste it. To think one day we’ll be ready to use our mouths and… Oh, god. Just everything with him. “Mmmm... Blaine!”

They looked at each other, panting, which turned into gazing, checking to make sure they were okay, to see if there were any hidden truths to be found in their eyes. Now that they knew what it looked like to see into each other's souls without holding anything back, they’d never be able to hide again. They had years of experience with that, and neither of them wanted to see that reflected there ever again.

“Love you. Love you,” was whispered between them at the same time as they leaned into each other’s mouths and surrendered to each other. They kissed like that night at the party, and it was a million times better with the validity of the I love yous behind it now. Their bodies pressed together, and hands gripped, pulled, and clung to each other. Permission to mark was given where their clothes would cover it. And they found new joy in taking layers of skin and flesh between their teeth and sucking until it made their boyfriend beg for mercy and more all at once. Kurt chanted his lover’s name as he released between them again by rutting against Blaine’s hip. When the shower ran cold, they wrapped each other in huge, soft towels, never more than a few inches apart as they dried off.

“Oh, freezing! I’m freezing now!” Kurt said, his teeth chattering.

“I happen to have the perfect solution for that!”

“Oh, do you, now?” Kurt asked and laughed.

“Mmhm... Let’s crawl into bed, and I’ll keep you warm and toasty.”

“I love this plan.”

They kissed with wild abandon, rolled and tumbled, and discovered how amazing it was to touch each other again with lube, realized that sex wasn’t just hot; it was also playful and silly. Bodies make strange noises, and they could get limbs tangled up in each other. It was also vulnerable, raw, and full of emotion. It felt like a lifetime of exploration had only begun. With soft touches and hair twirled around fingers while recovering for a little while, they talked about what happened at Prom for a few minutes and then let it go. Instead, they traced shapes on each other’s chests and talked about New York and all the adventures they’d have now with the lens of being together, hopefully forever, which led once more to tear-stained cheeks, and I love yous and words of awe and wonder kissed into almost every inch of their skin.

An hour before the sun rose, they finally surrendered to sleep, not only naked in each other’s arms for the first time but with nothing left unsaid between them and a promise sealed in their hearts that, for the rest of their lives, they'd do their best to keep it that way.

Notes from GleefulDarrenCrissFan:

This chapter was written by GleefulPoppet, who also did all of the fic art for this story. She also wrote the final chapter, which will be posted tomorrow. Thanks to Teddyshoney for editing every chapter.

I will be accepting new prompts for the next roulette event through next Saturday. You can fill out a form on the klaineficroulettetheprom-us page on Tumblr. We will vote for the next prompt on the third Saturday of June (I'll put up the voting form after I receive all of the prompts. I hope to start recruiting writers and artists for the next event in July. I'll post all of the information on my roulette event page. I start college courses at the end of July so I don't know right now when the writing will happen, but I will keep you posted. If you think you want to be involved, you can contact me on my Tumblr page under the same name or on my klaineficroulettetheprom-us page, but you will have to officially sign up by filling out a form in July. I want to thank everyone for reading this, and I hope you enjoyed it. Don't forget to comment.

#The prom-us #the prom-us #klaine fanfiction #klaine fic roulette- the prom-us #the prom us #klaine fanfic #signal boost #the promus

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watchmegetobsessed · 4 years ago

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VALERIE - Part IV. (Harry Styles)

hello loves!! thank you so much for the feedbacks on the previous part, i love to see your thoughts at reactions so please keep them coming for the upcoming parts as well! i was informed that the posts weren’t showing up under the hashtags bc i had an extrernal link to the spotify playlist, so that won’t be available in the next parts, but you’ll always be able to find it in the masterpost if you’d like to give it a listen! those were the songs i listened to while writing the story! now, i dont want to keep you up any longer, here is part 4, one of my personal favs, and im excitedly waiting for your feedbacks on the post! have a wonderful reading!

word count: 4.5k

SERIES MASTERPOST

masterlist

Valerie is curiously watching her dad work on the portable bed they’ve brought over for the night, her little hands clutching onto Rosa’s shirt as she is telling you all about the list she has made for you. It’s not a long one, but you try to focus on every word she says, making sure you won’t mess anything up.

“I put an X behind the important ones,” she explains pointing at the paper and you nod, eyes roaming down on the few X’s on the list. “The other ones are just suggestions, things I thought you should know.

“Got it,” you nod again, biting into your bottom lip. Bath time, feeding, sleep time, everything is covered in the list and you’re happy she even mentioned the smallest details. Some things might be natural for her as she’s been doing it for months, but it’s your first time completely alone with a baby. You surely don’t want to mess this up, especially because you want her to trust you and let you look after Valerie more often. They deserve a break now and then.

Steven finishes the bed and backs out a few stuffed animals along with two blankets into it, making it look cozy and familiar for Val.

“But most importantly,” Rosa starts and you look her in the eyes. “Call us anytime if you need help or want us to take her home, and I mean it.”

“Not gonna happen,” you shake your head, earning a sigh from your sister.

“Y/N, I’m serious. We are thankful for the help, but it’s not your duty, alright? Just call us anytime, really.”

Nodding your head you flash a smile at her, knowing well nothing on Earth is gonna make you call them tonight. Okay, maybe there are some cases when you would call, but those are quite unlikely to happen.

She hands Valerie over who curiously eyes you before grabbing a handful of your shirt and making herself busy with the fabric.

“It’s gonna be fine. Have a great night, you deserve it,” you smile at them. Steven straightens up and curls an arm around Rosa’s waist as they watch Val in awe, clearly a little worried they are gonna spend an entire night without her, but you can tell they also can’t wait for some alone time.

“Alright, we should get going,” Rosa sighs and stepping closer she kisses Valerie’s head and then your cheek as well. “Have fun with your aunty! We’ll be back for you in the morning, Sweetie.”

She runs her hand over her little head and Valerie smiles at her happily, completely oblivious to what’s really happening. The joys of being just a baby!

Steven says goodbye to her as well and you all head to the door.

“So, we’ll be here around eight, she is usually up by six. Do you want us to pick her up sooner?” Rosa asks standing at the front door.

“Sooner? I was about to tell you to sleep a little longer, you don’t have to come so early.”

“But we don’t want to take away your whole day, you need to rest too,” Steven explains, worry all over his face.

“Stop worrying about me, I’ll be fine. Just enjoy your night off! Come on, I’m throwing you guys out, time for the sleepover to start,” you tell them, shushing them out the door.

It takes some time to finally get them to leave, but they eventually do. Then it’s just the two of you, alone for the first time.

“Ready for your first sleepover, Val?” you ask her, standing in the hallway of your apartment. She just stares back at you, saliva drooling from her mouth but even that looks cute on her. “Alright, let’s do this.”

You braced yourself for the worst. Thought about all the possibilities how the evening would go, but you hoped they wouldn't become reality. Unfortunately, baby Valerie had different plans for the two of you.

The first hour goes by fine. You feed her, have a little play time, reading her favorite book to her, but slowly, you notice her losing interest in anything and everything. Soon enough, you see her face distort into a grimace and a few moments later she starts crying and it’s straight downhill from there.

Nothing can get her to stop. No food, no toy, absolutely nothing. You clown around, trying everything that pops into your mind that would calm her down, but it doesn’t seem like she is about to stop anytime soon.

You start to panic. Rosa told you how fussy she is because of her teeth coming, but you didn’t think it would be this bad. When she’s been crying for an entire hour straight, for a split second, you think about calling Rosa.

“No, not gonna do that,” you say, while Val is still screaming in your arms. “Valerie, what do you want? Tell me and I’ll give it to you, I promise! Just please stop crying!” you whine desperately, but, no surprise, no answer comes from the screaming babe in your arms, just more tears, puffy eyes and red cheeks from all the crying she’s been doing.

Trying to rock her into calmness you are moving around in the apartment when you hear your phone ringing. You instantly think it’s gonna be Rosa, wanting to check in on you, but how are you gonna answer the call when Valeries is screaming from the top of her lungs? She’ll come to pick her up straight away, no doubt about that.

Rushing into the kitchen you are relieved to see that it’s just Harry calling you.

“It’s not the best of times, Styles,” you sigh as you answer the call and put him on the speaker, leaving the phone on the countertop, so you have both your hands free for Valerie.

“Hey, I was just-- what the fuck is happening?” he asks hearing the deadly cries of Val through the line. “Is that Valerie?”

“It is! I’m looking after her so Rosa and Steven can celebrate their anniversary, but she just wouldn’t stop crying! I don’t know what to do!”

You’re absolutely desperate. It’s so bad you can feel your throat closing up, nearing the edge of your patience, tears threatening to roll down your cheeks, but you tell yourself only one of you can cry at a time and Val has taken that spot quite some time ago, not even giving you a moment to let loose.

“Text me your address, I’m leaving now,” he orders and you snap your head towards the phone.

“What? No, Harry--”

“Just text me the damn address, Y/N!” he barks and the line cuts off right away.

Your desperation pairs with shock now, not knowing what to think about this short, but quite eventful conversation you just had with him. It takes you a few moments to collect your thoughts, but you end up sending him your address.

Nothing changes in the twenty minutes while you are waiting to hear anything from Harry following your text to him. Valerie keeps crying with three seconds of pauses when she takes a few deep breaths only to start screaming once again. Aside from the headache she is causing you, it’s becoming pretty impressive how long she’s been doing it. You probably would have fainted by now, but it seems like Valerie is running on an endless battery.

“You are really making it hard for me to be a cool aunt, Val,” you mumble, the baby still in your arms as the tears keep rolling down her face. Your light grey shirt is now soaking wet, both from her tears and your sweat from the anxiety she is giving you, mixed with some other things you choose to ignore where they came from.

The doorbell makes you jump, but Valerie doesn’t even bat an eye at the sound, she just keeps going.

“You need to teach me how to have this much energy,” you mumble under your breath as you walk over to the door.

Opening it you find yourself staring up at Harry who is wearing a brown coat, dark jeans and a black hoodie. If you had to guess what he was doing on this weekend evening you would have said he was out with friends somewhere, picking up girls, but he surely doesn’t look like he was anywhere else than his home, the clothes are hanging messily on his frame, like he just threw them on in a rush.

His green eyes look straight at you at first before moving over to the crying child in your arms. You fully expect him to say something along the lines of “this is the kind of effect you have on others” comment, but it seems like he notices the fear and despair in your eyes and he keeps his mouth shut.

“I honestly have no idea what to do,” you choke out and the tears start flowing from your eyes as well, making Harry have to deal with now two crying human beings.

“Oh my, please don’t cry, I can’t take two crying women at once,” Harry begs as he steps inside and shuts the door behind him. Turning to face you he reaches for Valerie, you hand her over to him, hoping she would magically stop the crying, but she clearly couldn’t care less.

“Why, can you take one?” you ask with a bitter chuckle as you wipe your cheeks.

“Not really,” he admits, making you smile. “So what have you tried?” he asks as he starts swaying and rocking Valerie in hopes of getting her to stop, but not even Harry’s charm stands a chance with her right now. Deep down you’re happy you weren’t the reason she got so fussy and upset, would have been pretty awkward if she stopped the moment Harry took her into his arms.

“Literally everything,” you huff, shoulders falling forward. “I went over the list Rosa gave me, tried everything, but she wouldn’t stop. She’s teething, but this is… It seems like there might be something else maybe?” you tell him worried that something serious might be behind her behavior. You really don’t want to call and bother Rosa, but you are nearing the point where you’ll give up and ask for help.

“Maybe she needs to be changed?” Harry suggests holding her up, giving her butt a sniff, but you roll your eyes at him.

“You don’t think that was one of the first things I did? She is as clean as she could be. Maybe I should just call Rosa,” you sigh in defeat reaching for your phone but Harry snaps at you.

“No! Don’t, we can figure this out. Steven has been so excited to have a night off, we can’t ruin this for them. Come on, we have to have the slightest parenting skills and solve this without them.”

Nodding you agree with him, but you’ve completely run out of ideas.

“So what do you suggest?”

You can see the gears turning in Harry’s head as he is trying to come up with a plan, but it’s not like either of you have any experience with babies. The idea of calling Rosa is starting to burn in the back of your head, fear of failing this challenge taking over your thoughts.

Then Harry looks at you with a look that screams that he has an idea. You’re just about to ask what came into his mind when all of a sudden he starts to sing.

“Well, sometimes I go out by myself and I look across the water, and I think of all the things what you’re doing and in my head I paint a picture…”

You instantly recognize Amy Whinehouse’s iconic song, the one that’s also behind Valerie’s name, you know that for sure. Rosa was obsessed with the song growing up, she would sing it on the way to school, in the shower or while making dinner. You weren’t surprised she chose this name for her first daughter.

What surprises you that Harry sings like a literal angel. He hits the notes perfectly, nailing the lines like not many can and you listen to him with parted lips, eyebrows raised. This was the last thing you expected from him, but then again, it’s not the first time Harry has surprised you through the years of knowing him.

Valerie stops for a moment, her hiccups shaking through her body as her tear-filled eyes look up to Harry, and you both think this is gonna be the moment when she finally calms down, but he doesn’t even reach the chorus before she starts crying again, a defeated sigh erupting from him.

“Maybe she wants it instrumental,” you suggest and Harry gives you one of those ‘are you fucking kidding me?’ looks as you leave to run down the hallway, right into your bedroom.

“How am I supposed to make it instru-- what the hell, Y/N?!” He gives you a weirded out look when you return with a guitar in your hands. “Since when do you play the guitar?”

“Since like… eighth grade,” you tell him as you sit on the couch and holding the guitar on your lap you try to find the right accords. “I told you, you know nothing about me.”

Harry nods with a surprised but amazed look on his face as your fingers strum against the chords. It takes a few minutes but you figure it out and glancing up you give a questioning look to Harry.

“From the start?” you ask and he nods his head, continuously bouncing up and down to try to calm Val down.

You start playing the song and soon enough Harry joins you with the singing, the two of you perfectly nailing it even without any practice.

“Stop makin’ a fool out of me, why don’t you come on over, Valerie?”

Maybe it’s the guitar, maybe it’s the singing or maybe the fact that the song has her name in it, but by the time you reach the halfway point in the song Valerie’s crying slowly starts to fade. You instantly share a look with Harry, but don’t stop, fearing that she might start again if the music stops.

Her tear soaked cheeks smooth out as she is not screaming anymore and you can actually see her irises finally, her long lashes are sticking together from the salty tears and you know it’s gonna take some time for her to regain her normal state, but at least the crying has stopped.

“‘Cause since I’ve come on home, well, my body’s been a mess. And I’ve missed your ginger hair and the way you like to dress…”

You tear your eyes off Valerie for a second, letting yourself wander over Harry’s features as he sings. He slightly furrows his eyebrows focusing on the lines, so his forehead has a few creases on it. His lips form the words so clearly and elegantly, you wonder how often he sings. Is it something he only does when he is on his own or he likes to perform as well?

The only time when you heard him sing was at the bar when the two of you slayed the karaoke machine with that Avril Lavigne song. You were smashed by then, you remember that he had a nice voice but it was the last thing you paid attention to. Besides, he was kind of equally drunk as you, it was all for just fun, but now is a completely different situation.

It’s no surprise Valerie finds his voice soothing, you’d probably stop whatever you were doing if you heard him sing. There are people with a good voice and then there are the ones that not just have a good voice but also that small something, that extra magic in them that makes you melt as their voice caress your ears. Harry is definitely the second case, for a moment you forget where you are or why he is there singing. It’s just his voice and the gentle strumming of your fingers on the chords.

At the end of the song he starts repeating Valerie as the song slowly fades into nothing and you both stare at the little girl in his arms, clearly afraid she might start crying again. Unfortunately, your reservations become valid when you see the corners of her mouth curls down and you and Harry share a shocked look immediately.

“What else can you play?” he urges as Val whimpers in his arms, letting you know she does not appreciate that the singing has stopped.

“Shit, shit! Um, something from ABBA?” you propose and Harry nods quickly, not even asking which song you know, so you take it as a sign that he probably knows all of them.

The first song that comes to your mind is Andante, Andante and you don’t hesitate to start playing again, just in time. Valerie was just about to start crying again, but as soon as the melody hit her little ears she calmed down and listened to it with tired looking eyes.

“Take it easy with me, please. Touch me gently like a summer evening breeze…” Harry sings the words and you can’t hold a smile back as he, once again, hits the notes just perfectly without missing a beat.

You’re convinced there’s not one person on Earth who has never heard a single Abba song, most of the population knows them by heart, but somehow you couldn’t really imagine Harry to be a person who knows the lyrics to the songs as well. But he does and sings it without messing it up even just once. It’s hard to imagine a younger version of Harry singing ABBA songs when they come on the radio, but the more you think about it the more the picture paints itself in your mind.

Valerie lays her head to Harry’s chest, stuffing her thumb into her mouth as she listens to the performance. She is probably enjoying the vibrance of his voice shaking through his chest and maybe this is what brings her the peace she’s been looking for all this time. Your heart skips a beat at the sight of them.

Harry glances at you, eyes so soft you melt under his gaze. However nerve wrecking it was to have Valerie scream for hours, she is still the cutest little thing ever as she rests her head on his chest, her long blinks giving it away she has definitely lost most of her energy.

You don’t dare to stop the singing and playing. When you near the end of a song you quickly think of something else and whisper it over to Harry, who then gives his feedback on it with either a nod or a shake of his head. Most of the time he knows the songs you suggest so the show continues without a stop.

Half an hour passes by when you see her eyes slowly closing. You still don’t stop though, only when Harry tries to listen to her breathing and he realizes that it was completely slowed down. She is out.

“Holy shit,” you breathe out quietly, your fingers feeling numb from the playing. You haven’t had a guitar in your hands for this long in a while, probably for years. Harry shares your relief, his throat has completely dried out and he is happy to finally breathe evenly, not just sneak a few breaths in between lines.

“And now what?” he mouths as he is still gently swaying around with the sleeping Valerie in his arms. You put the guitar aside and check if she is for real asleep. Her long lashes are spread out on her puffy cheeks, gently snoozing into Harry’s chest as if she weren’t screaming for dear life just an hour ago.

“Let’s put her down,” you whisper and nod at him to follow you.

Reaching your bedroom you only switch your bedside lamp on so the light doesn’t wake her up. Pushing the stuffed animals to the side you grab the blankets and let Harry do the critical job. Leaning down he oh so slowly starts to pull her away from his chest, careful not to move too suddenly, it all feels like in those action movies when they are trying to get through the lasers without triggering the alarm. One bad move and the screaming threatens to start again and that’s the last thing you want, after all you’ve done to calm her down.

You don’t even realize it but as you watch her little head reach the mattress you hold your breath, almost wincing upon seeing Harry’s hands slide out from under her sleeping frame. As if you wait for something to go wrong, both of you freeze for a moment, expecting her to start moving around and wake up, but she stays still.

Eyes snapping up to Harry, you exchange a look and then you both head to the door, careful not to make any noise that can possibly shake Valerie up from her dreams.

“This was more tiring than running a marathon,” he huffs, throwing himself to the couch and you do the same next to him.

“Have you ever run a marathon?”

“No,” he confidently answers and you look over at him with a puzzled look. “But I can imagine how tiring it is.”

You let out a chuckle, letting your eyes close for just a little bit. You haven’t even had the chance to realize how much this whole struggle with Val sucked the energy out of you, but now that you’re half lying on the couch it hits you all at once.

“I should get going,” you hear Harry mumble, clearly just as tired as you are, but he doesn’t move.

“Mhm,” you hum, feeling yourself drift to sleep.

Neither of you moves and it doesn’t take a whole five minutes for the both of you to completely doze off.

The next time you wake up you feel an arm curled around your waist and someone is definitely pressed up against you while your back is against the back of the couch. It takes you a couple of moments and some blinking to realize it’s Harry you are all snuggled up to and the reason why you woke up is because Valerie is crying again.

“Shit,” you mumble to yourself, mind still groggy from the sleep as you push yourself up on the couch. Just moments later Harry’s eyes flush open and you’re not sure it’s because of the crying or because you moved next to him. His arm slides off you as he looks around a little confused about his surroundings.

You don’t have the chance to think about how the two of you ended up cuddling on the couch, though it lingers in the back of your mind. Basically crawling over Harry you rush into your bedroom where Valerie is lying in her bed crying. It’s a different kind of cry, not like the one you were stuck with for hours before and you know she must be hungry.

“Ah, come on, little girl. It’s alright,” you coo at her scooping her into your arms. She immediately cuddles to your chest hiccupping against it, her little hands fisting your shirt. You leave to go to the kitchen and feed her, but just as you’re about to step out of the room you bump into Harry.

You bounce back from his chest, but his hand immediately reaches for you and grabs your arm, holding you in case you might fall back.

“Sorry,” you breathe out, thoughts still foggy a little. “She’s… hungry,” you explain, but he is standing so close to you, you can feel his body’s warmth and it instantly ignites the memory of being pressed against his side on the couch just moments ago and you can’t stop yourself from inhaling a shaky breath.

“Let me help,” he croaks out and the two of you walk into the kitchen. Putting on her bib you hand her over to Harry who sits with her on his lap on a stoop as you get the baby food, warm it a little before joining the two of them and you slowly start feeding her.

“What time is it?” you ask realizing you have no idea how long you two have been asleep on the couch.

“It’s three am,” Harry answers before smiling down at Val. “Good job, Val!” he hums watching her take the spoon into her mouth.

You finish up feeding her, then give a try at burping her even though Rosa said it’s not necessary anymore. She just hums to herself so you head back to the bedroom, her eyes already threatening to close. By the time you put her back to the bed she is out again, so no private show is needed this time.

Walking out of the room you see Harry putting on his shoes and coat. For a split second you feel disappointed that he is leaving, but then your rational side puts you to your place. Of course he is leaving! Val is fine now, there’s no other reason for him to stay, right?

“Harry,” you softly say and he looks at you. “Can you please not tell Rosa and Steven that I needed help with Val?” you quietly ask, though there’s no doubt your eyes are practically begging him.

“No way I’ll ever admit to Steven that I sang ABBA to his child, so don’t worry about it,” he chuckles making you smile as well.

“Thank you. And for helping me as well. I was really close to giving it up,” you admit folding your arms on your chest as Harry stands at the front door, hand on the door knob as he is looking back at you.

“No problem. Now you owe me one,” he smirks and you can’t hold yourself back from rolling your eyes.

“Sure,” you say with an airy chuckle. “Good night, Harry.”

“Good night, Y/N,” he smiles at you sweetly before opening the door and walking out.

You take his place at the door and watch him walk down the eerily quiet hallway. He turns back to you one last time waving in your way and you nod back smiling before he disappears around the corner.

Closing the door you lean your back against it, taking a deep breath. Your eyes wander over to the couch where you and Harry were sleeping not so long ago. The feeling of his arm around you is still burned into your mind and you breathe in shakily as a memory snaps into your head of the exact same thing, only years earlier.

You lied almost exactly like that in his hotel room that night. His strong arms wrapped around you as you had your head laid on his chest, listening to his heartbeat that was slightly faster than the normal. Though you were still quite drunk, this feeling imprinted into your memories, because you felt so safe with him. Like nothing could ever hurt you if he was there with you.

Unfortunately, that feeling faded into nothing when you woke up in the morning quite fast. But this time, instead of disappointment and disgust, the only thing you still feel is the emptiness at the lack of his touch.

PREVIOUS PART

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TAGLIST

let me know if you’d like to be added or taken off!

@f-vasquezp @perspnhel @http-cherries @h-arrystyles @just-damn-bored @millennial-teenybopper @sarcasticallywitty15 @gwenlovesharrystyles @perfectywrong @do-youseeme @burberryharold

#harry #styles #harry styles #harry styles oneshot #harry styles series #harry styles one shot #harry styles imagine #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles angst #harry styles fluff #harry styles x you #harry styles x y/n #harry styles x reader #harry styles valerie #harry styles valerie series #valerie series

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autistic-duck · 4 years ago

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M’kay I have a question. (This is a long post, btw.)

Is it normal to not understand what someone is saying? Like, someone will ask me what my name is and I’ll tell them and ask for their name.

They’ll say, “My name is Rebecca.”

But my brain hears “rib ek uh” and I can’t understand how that’s an actual name.

Sometimes, I need to see words to understand them. This happens a lot in songs, too. It leads me to a lot of misheard lyrics, but it isn’t funny to me because I desperately want to know what they’re actually saying.

This has been happening to me for a loooong time. One of my first memories of this was when I heard the song Fireflies by Owl City. I was around five years old at the time.

I misheard the lyrics,

“Cause I feel like such an insomniac”

“Cause I feel like such a nzomnie ack.”

And for the LONGEST TIME I couldn’t figure out what they were saying, even after my mom explained the word “insomniac” to me.

This happens almost every time I listen to a new song, which is why I ALWAYS look up the lyrics to a new song before listening so that stuff like that never happens.

This mostly happens with audio stuff, but occasionally this happens with visual stuff, too.

Here’s an example:

One time I was in science class in seventh grade, and the girl sitting across from me had her phone face-down on the table. It was a rule in that class to have our phones visible at all times. Aaaannnyways...

This girl had a shirtless Justin Bieber phone case, but for some reason, my brain short-circuited and I couldn't figure out what her phone case had a picture of. I spent a solid thirty seconds staring at Justin Bieber's bare chest before I even realized that it was a SHIRTLESS DUDE, but by that time the owner of the phone case had seen me staring at it and she said, "Like what you see?"

I was horrified, and to this day I don't understand why my brain just stopped working. It was like staring at an abstract painting and trying to figure out what the heck the artist saw when they painted it. Except it was a shirtless dude, something I should have been able to recognize.

Is it normal for your brain to short-circuit like that? Like, someone tells you to do something and all you hear is caveman speech?

Is this a normal human thing? Do other people struggle with this?

I don’t even know what hashtags to put for this, so I guess I’ll just use the autism and adhd hashtags because maybe this is a neurodivergent thing. I doubt it. I’m probably thinking too much into this.

But it always makes me feel so stupid when this happens.

#actually autistic #autism acceptance #asd #adhd brain #adhd problems #living with adhd #aspergers #adhd

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pink-bird-30 · 4 years ago

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Becoming My Own Hero-Olicity & Robstar Crossover Fic

Ight. I’m making this the go to place to find alllllllll the links to my story because tumblr has this astounding ability to make my story impossible to find. Even using my own hashtag I have difficulty finding it!

So here we go. The links to all 7 chapters of Becoming My Own Hero:

Full Synopsis:

Oliver Queen Felicity Smoak had a daughter named Star Gabrielle Queen. On the night of her 8th birthday, her life changes forever. She is kidnapped by ARGUS and is recruited by Amanda Waller to protect the earth from Aliens, like Superman. But the genetic mutation she undergoes makes her stronger than they thought. To hide their mistake, they send her to her home planet Tamaran. Years later, the Justice League needs help from the Titans. The Titans head to Star City to assist in taking down a greater enemy, but how will Starfire handle being home after 11 years of being away, and her family believing that she would never come back?

This is a slow moving story. If you can tell by the publish date, I’ve been working on this for 3 years. A lot has happened that I haven’t been able to keep up with this story, but I’m trying to do better.

I hope you guys enjoy this story and my latest chapter!

As always, Happy Reading!

Chapter 7

Trained Pt.2

I can’t believe this is happening

For as long as Robin could remember he’d always had some sort of attraction to Starfire. Don’t get him wrong, its undeniable that she is this beautiful person, but standing there with his arms around her, deepening their ‘first’ kiss was blinding. He hadn’t truly realized how much he cared about her, how much she means to him, how much this could ruin everything.

What if they broke up? Would she still be his friend? Would she leave the Titans and never come back? Would she go home!?

Robin abruptly pulls back, allowing his doubts to control him, and puts Starfire at arm’s length. Starfire gives him a hurt expression and steps away from him, wrapping her arms around herself.

“Richard?”

He opens his mouth to say something, anything, but nothing comes out. He’s standing there like a fish out of water.

Starfire feels her whole world come crashing down.

How could he…I’m so stupid.

Not waiting for the ‘we’re teammates and shouldn’t date’ conversation, she turns her back on him and reaches for the elevator button. Once it reaches the ground floor she walks inside and finally turns to face a grief stricken Robin.

“I do understand why you wear the mask; you’re eyes tell a story the different than the actions. Night, Robin.”

The doors to the elevator closes and she lets her tears fall freely knowing he will never understand how much he hurt her tonight.

Down in the garage, Robin beats himself up for allowing Batman to continue to dictate his life.

“Dammit!” Robin punches the wall of the garage and immediately regrets it. He crumples back in pain, his hand throbbing. He can already feel the bruise spreading across his hand, creating deep shades of purple. But he doesn’t care. He finally had the opportunity to be happy for once in his life and he chose to listen to his hero side while standing there as Richard.

What did I do?

--------------------------

Gotham 1996

“Mr. Wayne,” Bruce looks up from his desk taking note of his PR lady, whose name he can’t seem to remember; Rebecca? Leslie? “The press is ready for you.”

Bruce stands up from his desk, straightens his tie, and checks his hair one last time in his cabinet mirror before leaving his office with…Vickie, Vickie Vale!

“Thank you, Ms. Vale. Lead the way.” He smirks and winks at her, knowing how his charm needs to be on full blast for what he’s about to do. He gestures for her to walk out of his office first and follows behind, adjusting his cufflinks as they make theie way to the conference room.

The large windowed room held Gotham’s top reporters from: Gotham Gazzett, Channel 9, The Gotham Times, and Gotham News Network. The first wave of flashes startled Bruce, it’s been many years since he was exposed to the media, and having all these news stations here today is jarring compared to his secluded life back in Nada Parbat.

“Mr. Wayne, is it true you are the Batman?”

“Mr. Wayne, did cha’ really crash your new Bentley?”

“Mista Wayne, are you single?”

Bruce takes a deep breath, allowing himself to adjust back to his playboy swagger; concealing the person whom only a select few know. He opens his arms wide and smiles dazzlingly to the press, “Ladies and Gentlemen, I understand my disappearance has been hard on everyone in Gotham, especially the single ladies.” He winks at Vickie again, making her blush, and continues, “I know my families influence in Gotham is important. And for that, I am apologetic. But there is reason for my disappearance.

“Since the death of my beloved parents, Martha and Thomas Wayne, I’ve always wanted to discover if I had family elsewhere.” Bruce moves across the room, passing the large wooden table in the center of the room, and leans against the glass windows looking down to the city below. He can clear as day see all the destruction his absence has caused in such a short period of time. The thought sending a deep blow to his gut, knowing he chose to leave, but wished there was someone who could have kept Gotham free from evil.

Bruce looks back to the press, taking note they are waiting for him to continue.

“I went across seas to search for a missing relative on my father’s side. My butler, Alfred Pennyworth, had informed me of a long lost niece.” The crowd of reporter gasping at the new discovery. “I’ve brought her here today for you all to meet her. Her name is Gabrielle Wayne.” On cue, Alfred walks into the room pushing a black stroller and stops in front of Bruce.

“If you’d like to take a photo of my niece, please turn the flash off. It can harm a baby’s eyes. She’s only a few weeks old.”

Gently, Bruce reaches into the stroller to pick up Star and holds her in his arms. The room stills at the sight of the new Wayne child. No one never thought the Wayne bloodline would continue considering Bruce’s relations with women has never lead to a serious relationship.

“Excuse me, Mr. Wayne.” A young brunette woman from the Gotham Gazette pushes herself through the crowd of reporters. “Gloria with Gotham Gazette, what are your plans for taking care of Gabrielle? Will Alfred be her primary caretaker or will you be heiring a nanny?”

Bruce smiles down at Star as she stares back at him, a small giggle escaping her. “Alfred and I will be responsible for her. If I do need additional assistance, it will be taken care of in private. Gabrielle deserves to live a relatively normal life.”

Gloria reaches her tape recorder out further to Bruce, “Follow-up question: How can you raise a child in a dangerous city such as Gotham? With the rise of the Falcone crime family, and unrest in the deep underground of Gotham, how can you guarantee her safety?”

“Excellent question, Gloria.” Bruce shifts Star in his arms, moving her to rest her head against his shoulder. “Given my new status as her guardian, it will be my top priority to protect her at all cost. With that being said, today I will be announcing the charity event I will be hosting for GCPD. We will be holding an auction to raise money for the police department and expanding their crime division to include metahuman training. In our ever changing world, we must be prepared for the impossible.”

“Final question Mr. Wayne. How does it feel knowing Oliver Queen is alive and well?” Bruce’s mind goes blank realizing he’s been gone far longer than Oliver has been back in Star City. He feigns shock, “O-Oliver is alive? Since when?”

“He was discovered on an island in the North China sea about two years ago, Mr. Wayne.” Gloria supplies. “Why are you unaware of the sudden reappearance of your long-time friend, Oliver Queen?”

Alfred clears his voice, the attention of the media shifting from Bruce to Alfred. “Master Wayne did not have access to the news overseas, he spent his time searching for his belove niece.”

Gloria scrunches her eyebrows in confusion and pushes forward, “Sir, it’s 1996. The media is everywhere. I find it hard to believe Mr. Wayne was unaware of Oliver’s reappearance.”

Bruce’s jaw locks in a straight line, “Gloria, please understand. If I weren’t overly set on finding my niece, leading to deep parts of Europe where there was hardly an internet café, I would have been in Star City when he arrived home. Trust me when I say, he’s like a brother to me.”

Gloria raises a brow at his claim, still seeing through the holes of his story.

I’ll find out the truth later…

Star becomes restless in Bruce’s arms. He rocks her gently but it doesn’t seem to be calming her down. He casts a slightly panicked look at Alfred who gestures to her stroller. The media watches as Bruce kisses the top of Star’s head, a few camera shutters going off, and he sets Star back into her stroller. He buckles the small black belt across her chest and between her chubby little legs. Almost instantly she starts to nod off, cooing softly. Bruce smiles down at her and places a light blue knitted blanket over her legs. Alfred steps forward to take her back out of the room.

Bruce turns back to the group of people and they are all silent in awe if this new Bruce Wayne.

“Gloria,” Her attention snapping to him, realizing she was entranced by his care as a new father. “I’m grateful my friend is alive and well; I’ll have to check up on him at some point in the future. Until then, thank you all for coming here today to share in this great day. I look forward to mingling will you all at the GCPD Charity event.” Bruce waves to them as he leaves the room, ignoring the onslaught of questions being hurtled his way as he backs out of the room and heads back down where he once came.

Out in the hallway, Vicki Vale walks ahead of Bruce, her maroon heels clicking against the marble floors. He can feel himself releasing a slow breath. This was a journey he never envisioned for himself. He never thought he’d take on such an important responsibility without much thought. This wasn’t like him. But the second he met Star, he knew he needed to protect her at all costs.

He knew it was time to reach back into the Bruce he shut off a long time ago, the young man who didn’t know his purpose in life. The young man who lost everything he cared for and became a playboy that he knew his parents would be disappointed in. The young man that shut himself off from anyone who cared for him and pushed them away. He needs that innocent, vulnerable part of himself back for this new challenged.

He needed to be Bruce, not Bruce Wayne.

---------------------------------

Titans Tower 2012

Starfire lays in bed tossing and turning all night until the first peak of light start to sneak its way into dawn. Starfire growls at the ball of fire that typically greats her happily each day, but after last night, she wanted to be left alone.

She felt a new wave of tears gather in her eyes thinking about last night’s events. Why had Robin pushed her away? Why did she think it could be easy? Why does this human boy have such a hold on her heart?

“Richard…” she sighs into her pillow, hugging it close to her chest. She wants nothing more than to be with him. The feeling of his arms wrapped tightly around her, making her feel safe. The taste of his lips still ever present even hours later. And his eyes, he trusted her enough to show her who he was. And that’s what hurts the most. Robin was so vulnerable with her but pulled away.

What is wrong with boys…

A subtle knock on her door gains her attention. She scrunches her brows in confusion, knowing no one would be up at this ungodly hour besides her. Starfire always rises with the sun, wanting to take in the first few rays to power her through the day. But today was the opposite, she wanted her room to keep the light out. She wants to be alone and bask in the darkness her curtains can provide her.

The knock comes again more urgently, “Star, we really need to talk. I fucked up bad.”

Starfire stills hearing Robin’s voice ring through her door. Why does he think he can pull a stunt like he did last night and not expect any consequences for his actions? Does he expect Starfire to accept an apology and be happy he finally acted on his feelings for her?

He knocks again.

“Star? Please, open the door.” The desperation in his voice was enough to make her eyes roll. Starfire huffs in frustration and weighs her options. It’s either deal with this now or have the entire team butting in when they are trying to hash it out. That thought alone was enough for Starfire to sit up in bed and make her way to her floor length mirror.

Starfire runs her fingers through her hair and checks herself in the mirror. She’s wearing shorts and a string tank top, nothing too risqué, but enough to short circuit any teenaged boys’ mind. She walks over to the door to unlock it, letting it swish open revealing an equally tired Robin.

“Hello, Robin.” Starfire turns away from him and walks back over to her bed, not bothering to wait for him to reply. She hears him clear his throat and step into her room, letting the door swish close behind him. She doesn’t bother to look up at him; she didn’t want him to see how much he hurt her.

“Star—I.” he stops just short of her bed, keeping a friendly distance between them, but close enough that he can still reach out to her.

“You what? You have the regrets? If that is so, please do the leaving. I rather save myself the humiliation.” She crosses her arms and huffs, her hair slightly flaming at the ends.

Robins sighs, already feeling defeated. He spent the last three hours trying to find the right words to express himself, but he’s never really been in a relationship with anyone before. Barbara doesn’t count too much. They were only 14 and she ended up having feelings for someone at their high school.

“May I sit?” He gestures to the space next to her on the bed. He’s never asked permission before, he’s always felt comfortable enough around Star to be there with her, but now everything was different. Her bed didn’t seem oh-so innocent anymore. If anything, it made him very much aware her pajamas cover very little of her.

Her green eyes are sharp and sizing him up, “You may.”

Shaking away all impure thoughts running through his head, Robin sits down next to Starfire on the bed, turning to take her hands in his. “Star, I didn’t mean to push you away last night. I was—” he pauses feeling Starfire pull her hands from his slowly. Robin feels panic settle in his chest for a moment.

Oh god, she doesn’t even want me to touch her anymore.

Tentatively, she touches the corner of his mask, silently asking permission to remove it. Robin sighs in relief and nods, understanding why she wants it off. He has nothing left to hide from her; he’s ready to be open and honest with someone for the first time in years.

Her fingers are soft against his cheek as she gently pulls at the mask, letting it fall to the ground next to her bed. She brushes her thumb against his cheek before dropping her hands to her lap again.

“You may proceed.”

“What I was going to say is that I was—I was scared, Star.” He stares at her with his intense blue eyes, the fear showing bright within them. “All these negative thoughts of what could happen if this doesn’t work out came rushing all at once, and I-“ Robin takes a deep breath, trying to steady his voice. “You’re the last person I want to lose. I’ve already lost too many people I care about.”

Starfire sits there in silence allowing Robin’s words to hang between them. She can see the panicked expression settling across his face. His hold on her hands starts to loosen, but she’s quick to tighten the hold, preventing him from fleeing again.

“Ouch.”

Starfire is confused by his sudden pain and looks down to look at his hand.

“Oh! Richard, what did you do?!” she examines his right hand, running her delicate finger over the deep purple bruise, touching it tenderly to feel for any broken bones. He hisses when she touches the darker stain across his knuckles.

“Ah, yeah. I sorta punch the garage wall last night after you left. I was angry because I still let—” Robin realizes what he was about to say and freezes.

“I am the confused, who are you allowing to do the controlling of you?” Starfire asks as she stands from the bed and goes to her adjoining bathroom for a first aid kit from under the sink. She settles back on her bed, close enough that her knee brushes his thigh.

Robin frowns, “I-my adoptive father. He’s…you don’t know about my family, do you?” Robins asks. Starfire frowns. Of course she knows who Robin’s adoptive father is. It’s her uncle, but Robin doesn’t know that she has her memories back yet.

She’ll have to pretend not to know. But then again, Bruce Wayne is a very public figure…

Feigning confusion Starfire shakes her head, “No, I am unaware of your k’norfka.” She continues to rifle through the first aid kit trying to find a disposable ice pack.

Robin flexes his fingers, feeling the pain radiate through his fingers. “Let’s just say he’s a very public figure and the reason why I have to keep my identity hidden, if they know who I am-“

“Then they will have the knowledge of whom the Batman is.” Starfire looks up to meet Robin’s eyes. She can see the sadness embedded deep within, but she still can’t shake the fact he rejected her last night.

Breaking eye contact, Star pulls the ice pack from the kit and breaks it, letting the beans cool up. She takes hold of Robin’s hand and gently lays the ice pack on his hand.

Robin hisses at the weight of the ice pack, but then relaxes once the cool pack starts to numb his hand from the pain.

“Thanks.” He smiles at her making her heart jump, seeing his eyes crinkle at the corner and the warmth radiating from them.

He really cares for me…

Starfire shifts closer to him, positioning his hand on her thigh, and takes a small pack of pain medication from the kit and hands it to Robin. When he doesn’t reach for them, Starfire looks at him quizzically; confused by his distracted state.

“Richard?”

“Hm.” His eyes are still focused on his hand resting against her thigh. The warmth seeping its way from his hand through his veins.

“Here, take the medication of pain.” He open his hand, accepting the pack of pills. Her hand grazes his, a soft brush of her fingers against his gloveless palm. It sends a small spark to his heart, and he can see Starfire is just as affected when she doesn’t retract her hand right away.

Feeling brave, letting his fears go and taking responsibility for his actions, Robin closes his hand around hers. “For a long time, I let him dictate what I could and couldn’t do. And sometimes that younger, more obedient version of myself overclouds my judgment and I make poor decisions.”

Robin releases Starfire’s hand, letting the packet of pills drop to her bed, and reaches to cup her face. At first she freezes, unsure where this conversation is going, fearful he may reject her again. But when his thumb brushes her cheek tenderly, she leans more into him, accepting the small comfort he is offering her.

“When we formed the Titans, I didn’t want to be the version of myself I was before I came to Jump City. This isn’t Gotham, the threats aren’t the same and the people aren’t the same. I had to become a different type of hero for those kinds of people because there’s hope here.” He smiles lightly, making Starfire smile in return. “ This city isn’t on the brink of destruction; sure there’s been plenty of villains attempting to take over, but the five of us are able to keep them at bay. Each and every single one of us is able to not only protect one another, but ourselves.

“I guess, what I’m trying to say is: I’m afraid of something happening to you. To all of you, but I can’t let that fear dictate my happiness. I know you can handle any situation, but I still can’t help that small voice that tells me otherwise. I trust you Starfire, and I trust that us, together, can work.”

The only sound in the room was the distant rumble of waves hitting the island rocks down below. Could he really mean it? Does he…does he really want to be with her?

Starfire’s eyes widen at his words, “Richard, I do not want to do the reading of the words, but are you—are you asking me…?

The ice pack on Robin’s hand plops to the bed as he moves his hand up her thigh, causing a slight blush to cross her cheeks. He moves up her side, grazing it softly, feeling the soft fabric of the tank top against his hand. As he reaches her shoulder, he inches his face closer to hers before his hand finds home threading slowly through her long auburn locks. Starfire can feel her skin burning from where his hand traveled, leaving a wake of gooseflesh bubbling her sun kissed skin.

Just like the night before, the magnetic pull between the two was undeniable. Starfire rests her head against Robin’s, “Do you promise not to do the freak out again if we have the lip contact?”

Robin chuckles deep in his throat, “I won’t. Not this time.” He brushes a strand of hair away from her face, “I’m all in if you are.”

Wrapping her arms around his shoulder’s, Starfire pulls Robin towards her as she lays down against the pillows, leaving him hovering over her. Robin gazes at her warmly finally feeling content.

Her green eyes glowing bright with glee as she drags him closer to her again. Their bodies flush together, and her hand weaving its way into his hair. His injured hand rests against her hip and the other cups the side of her face. He tilts his head down allowing their lips to brush lightly as Starfire’s hand caresses the side of Robin’s face.

“I very much am, Richard.” She whispers against his lips and gives him a slow, chaste kiss before pulling back completely, watching Robin’s eyes open slowly. A smile spreads across his face making Starfire giggle in return.

“But—“ her face taking on a serious look, making Robin squirm. “—If you do the pulling of the yesterday events, I will not have the pleasantries for you once more. You have the understanding?”

Robin visibly gulps, his Adam’s apple bobbing in his throat. “I promise, Star.”

She smiles brightly and gives him another slow kiss. This one sending waves of happiness through the young alien.

“What are we going to tell the others?” Robin asks as he pulls back and reluctantly untangles himself from Starfire. He lays down next to her on the bed, propping himself against the soft purple pillows.

Starfire moves to her side facing him and takes his hand in hers, lacing their fingers together. Will they be upset? Will they celebrate? Should they keep it a secret for now?

Starfire’s train of thought is cut short by Robin’s hand slowly grazing up her side, sending shivers down her spine. She find herself cuddling closer to him, allowing his arm to wrap around her fully.

I can definitely get used to this.

Feeling more and more comfortable Starfire feels herself succumbing to her exhaustion.

“I do believe—” She lets out a yawn and blinks her eyes sleepily. “—it is the problem for later. I did not have pleasant shlorvax last night.” She yawns again, emphasizing her tired state and snuggles closer to Robin’s warm body. Robin shifts to lay on his back, leaving room for Starfire to rest her head on his shoulder and her arms to wrap around his waist.

Sleepily, Robin yawns as well, feeling the events of the past few hours finally catching up to him.

“Sounds good to me.” He whispers, feeling his eyes grow heavy.

“Pleasant shlorvax, Richard.” She kisses the underside of his jaw and falls into peaceful sleep. He wraps his arm tighter around her waist, pulling her closer to him, and drags the blanket over the both of them.

“Night, Star.”

-------------------------------

Starling City 1996

Felicity finds herself wander down the long winding staircase of the foundry. Her still protruding belly stretching her black knit sweater uncomfortably as she waddles down the stairs. She can hear the grunts of someone working out on the gym mats and the sound of keys being clicked on her keyboard. The thought alone sends Felicity to waddle down the stairs at a brisk pace, making her shoes thump against the hard concrete floor.

“Who the hell is touching my keyboard? Is it Roy? How many times have I told you not to touch—”

“Felicity!?” John Diggle shoots up from her desk chair as Felicity approaches. She does a double take to see she’s really seeing who she thinks it is.

“Dig?” She says in disbelief. The past year has been extremely hard on Felicity and finally coming home, but without her love and daughter, she didn’t think anyone would be down here.

Diggle wipes a tired hand down his face and lets out a short laugh that could pass as a choked sob. “You’re okay? Really?” He looks down her body. She looks paler than usual, her hair showing her dark roots and her belly, hanging low. This catches Diggle’s attention immediately.

His eyes widen, “Are you pregnant?”

Felicity bites her lip, knowing this was not how she wanted to tell Dig she and Oliver had a child together. She thought it’d be like when Sara was born. All of them huddled in a hospital room wanting to take a turn holding Star in their arms. They’d take their first Team Arrow photo together. But Ra’s took that from her, from them.

Felicity presses a hand to her bulging stomach, he lips quivers from the onslaught of emotions facing through her.

“I was pregnant, Dig. Oliver and I—” her voice cracks and the damn breaks. Diggle pulls her into a tight hug, wishing he could take all the pain away. She sobs into his chest, wishing Oliver and Star were there with her.

After a few moments, Felicity steps back and wipes away the tears with her black sleeve. She sniffles as she walks over to her forgotten computer desk and sits down in her chair. The chair where she watched Oliver for hours using the salmon ladder. Where she and Oliver would talk about their future together, how they both wanted a family…

And now she sits there alone.

“Dig.” Her voice rough from tears. “We need to help Oliver get out of the league, no matter how long it takes. I need my family back.”

Diggle nods in understanding. If it were Lyla and Sara on the line, he’d be raising hell to get them back.

Felicity begins her research on Ra’s al Ghul in order to develop a plan to bring down the League of Shadows. She starts by listing anyone and everyone that is in association with the league:

Sara Lance, Malcom Merlin, Maseo, Talia al ghul, Nyssa al Ghul, Star Queen...

The last name catches Diggle off guard, “Felicity, whose Star Queen?”

Her fingers stop moving on the keyboard and turns to him sadly, “That’s our daughter’s name. Star Queen.”

Diggle feels his throat tighten realizing this baby girl is stuck in one of the scariest places on Earth. Why would Felicity leave her there? Why not bring her back?

“Before you ask, I did not have a choice.” She looks up at the celling of the foundry her eyes growing wet once more. “She had to stay and be inducted to the league as an heir. They took my baby from me Dig, my baby.”

Diggle places a comforting hand on Felicity’s shoulder. Not truly knowing how to comfort her in this situation. How could he? His wife and child are safe at home, far away from these kinds of monsters that Oliver and Felicity find themselves fighting against.

“Yo, Dig!” Roy bellows from the training mats. “Did you see the news? Bruce Wayne is back in Gotham. And he has a kid!” Roy comes barreling in from the sparring mats, sweat dripping down his face. He takes a good look at the small blonde perched in her usual seat. Roy stops short of the med table, the shock overwhelming him before he rushes at her, and engulfs her into a big hug.

“Felicity, is it really you?!” Roy asks in disbelief. How is it possible that she is back? It’s been almost a year since she and Oliver went to Nada Parbat to resurrect Thea. Thea came home right away and told them how Oliver had to stay to be the Heir to the Demon Head. And Felicity was subjected to stay, but did not understand why. But standing there, taking in Felicity’s appearance, it wasn’t tough for Roy to put two and two together.

“That’s why you stayed. You were pregnant…Where’s the-?”

“Roy.” Dig says warningly.

Felicity looks away from them, feeling her throat tighten. She clenches and unclenches her firsts trying to control her emotions, but post-partum has already kicked in and she couldn’t help the few tears that fell.

“She is safe.” She whispers. Roy steps forward and wraps his arms around her again, giving her a tight hug. Felicity reacts immediately feeling safe in her friend’s arms. Roy was always like a younger brother to her, and she missed him terribly for the year she was gone.

But why did Roy come in here again?

“Bruce Wayne is back in Gotham. And he has a kid!”

Felicity abruptly pulls back from Roy and swings her chair back around to face her desktop. She rapidly types in a series of codes and brings up the local news.

“Good Morning, Starling City. I’m Summer Gleeson and here’s Today’s breaking news. Billionaire playboy Bruce Wayne has returned to Gotham City after being gone for nearly 7 years. Not only is his reappearance suspicious, but he has a child! Before you all lose your hats, here’s the dish. Our sources at the Wayne conference earlier today confirm that it is a long lost niece on Bruce’s father’s side. Here is the first look at the new baby of Gotham, Gabrielle Wayne!”

The tv cuts to the press briefing at Wayne Enterprises. They watch as Bruce makes this grand speech before Alfred rolls in a stroller.

Felicity feels her chest beat fast as she realizes what is happening.

“Oh, frack.”

Diggle looks questioningly to Felicity before watching the screen once more.

“…her name is Gabrielle Wayne.”

“That’s my baby…” Felicity sobs, clutching at her still round belly.

Roy’s eyes widen, “Why would Bruce Wayne…”

“Oliver, this was the plan he didn’t tell me about. But I don’t think he thought Bruce would be so public…” Felicity’s voice drifts as she watches her baby girl giggle on screen, bringing a smile to her tear streaked face.

A warm hand lands on her shoulder and she leans her head against it. “She’s beautiful, Felicity.” Diggle gave her shoulder a squeeze letting her know he’s here for her and ready to take on whatever it take to bring her home.

With a renewed feeling of ambition. Felicity takes a deep breath, sits up in her chair, and squares her shoulders, causing Diggle’s hand to fall away.

“So,” Roy steps forward to lean against the desk, facing Diggle and Felicity. “What’s the plan, boss.”

Felicity smiles for the first time in months, feeling hope after all the darkness she was exposed to for 9 months.

“We’re getting them back.” She reaches out to take Diggle’s and Roy’s hands. She needed their team to get this done. They will need all the help they can get to bring Oliver and Star home.

“Let’s get to work.”

23 notes · View notes

ridiculousyoungicarus · 4 years ago

Text

Self Para 002: Cry Me a River TWs: Alcohol, Alcoholism, Alcohol Abuse, GRAPHIC Suicidal Ideation, HIV, Zander is a dick Word Count: 3,247 Setting: From immediately following the Thanksgiving Picnic until after the event has been concluded on Luxor’s Blenheim, New Zealand campus. Notes: If you have NOT looked at the posters previously posted onto this blog, you need to look at those first and then come back to this. Zander’s text thread from the event with Elliot also gets explained in this, as that was going on in the middle of all this crap. Sorry I had to complicate the Luxor Extended Universe this time, folks.

Once the initial shock wore off, the rage settled in. Zander was pacing around his common room, whipping his head to glare at whoever was stupid enough to open the door to the room. Now wasn’t time. He didn’t want to talk. But when he realizes it’s Ches he pauses, “what do you want?”

“To figure out what the fuck is going on with you. You’ve been grouchy all afternoon, more so than normal.” Her movements are cautious as she turns to close the door behind her and slowly walks into the room. “Is it because I made you talk to your brother? Because I swear I was only trying to help.” He had barely remembered she’d done that, it felt like a lifetime ago, but it’d only been a little over a day. Two?

He takes a deep breath, opening his arms to her as he speaks. “I’m not mad at you.” But she doesn’t come to him, and instead opts to settle herself onto his couch, pulling her knees up to her chest. “I swear it’s got nothing to do with you, stop giving me that look.”

“I’m not giving you a look! I just feel like shit, and maybe fixing your problems will fix me. Okay?” She snaps back at him, and usually he’d pause and try to figure out why she felt so broken, try to take on whatever she was upset about. But, tonight he had bigger priorities and he sat down next to her on the couch, patting her knee a bit awkwardly before he just comes out and says it.

“I found out who gave Balo HIV.”

He wasn’t expecting how defeated his tone would be at the confession, but it made sense. And for a minute he watched Ches try to figure out who it could be. “So it was your dad?” She guesses, after a few moments. Wouldn't that be the better alternative?

He thinks back to his conversation with Claire, the way he’d tried to defend Jack. How he actually hadn’t wanted it to be Jack, for once in his life. After all, why wouldn’t he tell them? He claimed he cared so much about Balo, and in spite of the fact before this he had been starting to trust him when he said it, now Zander called bullshit on that now more than ever. If he cared about Balo, he would have told her the truth. He would have been there for her, supported her instead of just leaving her alone in the dark terrified. No, Jack didn’t care. He never had about anyone, and he never would.

“Jack. His mother told me-” “His mother is dead, Zan. Jack doesn’t like it when people call Claire his mum.”

“Does it matter what Jack likes? Claire told me he said he gave Balo HIV himself, that he’s been lying about his status the entire fucking time. Who knows what the fuck he’s given to Juliet... you’re probably safe, you’ve been on prep but it’s beyond fucked up, he still won’t tell Balo, and according to Claire he won’t.” He groans, leaning back into the couch. He had no idea what to do, how to handle it. “I’ve never hated him more than I do now.”

The girl beside him starts to move, and he raises an eyebrow at her as she goes into his cupboards trying to find something. “God, we might as well be drinking rubbing alcohol but it’ll do.” She huffs, but she still pops the cork on his cooking wine and brings it over, taking a long chug of it before she offers it to him. She seriously couldn’t expect him to drink that crap, right? But as he looks at the bottle, he reaches out to take it from her, taking a long sip of it himself and making a face as he offers it back. “Don’t tell Elliot I’m doing this.”

“Wouldn't dream of it.” He didn’t see why he’d have any reason to tell, although he doubted Elliot would believe him even if he did. It seemed like assurance enough for the redhead as she takes the bottle back from him and chugs more as she sits down beside him again. Maybe he should be trying to stop her, but he didn’t have a fight with her in him currently. It wasn’t as if he’d win it anyway, he’d tried. She never seemed to cared when someone told her to cut it out. “I don’t know how we’ll get through to Balo, she needs to know.”

“Can you let me get drunk first before we discuss this shit?” She groans. Was her alcohol really more important than Balo? He raises an eyebrow at her as he stares at her, and after a few moments she sets the bottle of wine down next to her. “Nothing sends a message better than revenge? I don’t know, Zan. I can barely handle my own shit lately. If I could put posters up all over the school telling everyone but you, Elli, Sky, and Balo to leave me the fuck alone until after I’m dead, I would.”

“Ches, if you’re not going to help me, go cry to Elliot. I can’t handle your shit right now either.” Zander reaches over to his cooking wine and steals another sip before he sets it back down. The wine really was awful. Why were they doing this to themselves again?

Still, she reaches out to grab the bottle again, cradling it close to her chest as she gives him a dirty look. “You can have it when I’m done, it’s my turn.” She hisses, “did you talk to Jack about this yet?”

“He doesn’t give a fuck, Ches. I don’t think he’ll ever tell her.” He explains as he reaches out to take the bottle from her. Maybe it wasn’t fair to withhold the fact he hadn’t even tried, but Jack had months to tell. If he could lie straight to everyone’s faces in the aftermath, it was easy to assume he wouldn’t ever care enough to tell the truth. And he knows the look on her face as she continues to hold onto the wine bottle, as if it was the most precious thing in the world, and moves away from him to keep him from taking it. The way the rage sparked up in her eyes, an expression that usually even made him step back in fear. But for once, the intense flash of anger was welcome. He needed it.

“I said it’s mine! I want it!” She snaps, darting out of his grasp with it in the direction of his dining table. “You really want to force him to do something? Take away his choices. And if you want to use his tactics against him, you need to make sure they’re not absolutely pathetic like Windsor’s posters were. I wanted to blow my brains out looking at them. Not like it’s hard to feel that way around here, most days I want to.” There’s something off about her tone, her words, and for a brief moment he questions if he should actually be pushing this currently at all. She clearly wasn’t okay, but neither was Balo and he supposed this once, maybe it’d be okay to be selfish. “You need to go in hard and quick. If you over complicate it, nobody gives a fuck. The more minimal they are, the better. So, you don’t want to aim too low, you don’t want the mob trying to kill you but...”

“I don’t give a fuck about the mob, Ches. He needs to pay for this.” Zander corrects her. Did it matter if people hated them? They were doing the right thing. Nobody else could get hurt like Balo had been if they told. Maybe Juliet would be okay? Sure, she’d hate him, but what Jack has done was inexcusable.

“You should be afraid. Everyone’s going to hate us if we actually do this.” “If they hate us for going after Jack, good riddance. Please, Ches.”

He watches her reaction to his words, the conflict on her face as she considers her options. She takes a long drink, tilting the bottle up high if she was trying to get as much alcohol as she could inside of her at once without choking in the process. “Fine, I’ll help with your fucking revenge scheme if you let me keep the wine.” She growls. He nods in agreement, holding his hands up in a peace offering as he slowly approaches her. After what felt like ages of watching his every move, she finally speaks again, “get your laptop. We have work to do.”

—-

Ches had fallen asleep over an hour ago, in the middle of talking, but by that point her suggestions had been barely coherent anyway. He’d already picked her up and moved her to his bed after finishing the last of the posters. And despite her protests at being woken up in the process, he just propped her up on her side, tucked her in, and waited for her to go back to sleep. Once she had, he went back to the common room to grab his laptop. For the most part his attention had shifted, revenge was well on its way and now he had time to worry about her. Balo might have contributed to it but she hadn’t been what set Ches off. She’d already been spiraling the minute she’d walked in his door. He saw that clearer now more than ever.

He glances away from the girl to take a glance at the test run of posters he’d printed. For a moment, as he reads what they’d written, he hesitates. How hadn’t he noticed they included Balo’s name in a hashtag? Perhaps he’d been too busy trying to translate what seemed to be a mix of French and slurred gibberish to think about it. It’d be easy to fix, he supposed. Simply replacing the hashtag with another resource link like Ches had suggested for each of the posters. But, he didn’t want to. Wouldn't it be better if everyone knew it was Balo who’d be affected? The ray of light everyone had watched get extinguished over the past few months. He hesitates, only a moment longer, before he goes back to his laptop to hit print on the run of them.

He sighs before going back to watching the body in his bed. Hyper focused to make sure her skin wasn’t changing colors, and her breathing hadn’t shifted. God, he really should have stopped her, or at least tried to limit her. He should to tell Elliot, right? If their roles were reversed he’d want to be told. Maybe Ches would be pissed off later, but, he didn’t know what else to do. He’d fucked up, he let her keep the bottle in exchange for her help with these posters. She had every right to be mad at him for it too.

[To Elliot:] Hey, I know you don’t want to talk about Ches with me but I’m really fucking concerned right now. She showed up on my doorstep drunk, and I’ve seen her in pretty rough shape before but this is the worst I’ve ever seen her ever. I’m keeping an eye on her atm but I thought you’d want to know [To Elliot:] Do you want me to bring her to you? She’s out of it but she wakes up if you poke at her. [To Elliot:] I think it’s Leo related? I dunno, she was too busy rambling about wanting to steal you stars to tell me what was wrong before she dozed off 😖

Maybe pinning it on Leo was fucked up too, but, if he had to guess what else was going on, wasn’t that the easiest guess? It was that or Cade. He had seen her step brother stumbling a lot during the picnic, obviously already back to using not even a full week after leaving rehab. Whatever it was, if Elliot wanted to deal with this he’d let him. If not, he’d have to multi-task. As he waits for a response he pulls out the map of the school, trying to think of where the best places to put posters would be on this campus.

The more people who saw them, the better.

After all the parents left Luxor, he’d slip one of them under Jack’s door. Warn him of the storm that was coming under the guise of giving him a chance to amend things just to see what’d happen. As he waits to see if his phone goes off, he reaches over for a sticky note to scrawl a message on.

Figured I should give you a heads up. I did tell Claire that if you wouldn’t tell her, I would. What do you think? Pretty, right?

Perhaps he should make a version of a poster without Ches’s name attached for this. He glances over to the sleeping girl again, no, she definitely wouldn’t be in the state for Jack’s crap tomorrow. The longer he could keep her out of this, the better. Neither of them would have peace in the end, but, at least she could keep hers a tiny bit longer.

—-

[From Chessie ☀️:] I CAN NOT BELIEVE YOU [From Chessie ☀️:] ELLIOT DID NOT NEED TO KNOW LIKE THAT [From Chessie ☀️:] WHAT THE FUCK, ALEKZANDER?

Zander had been helping to pack up the book club’s table when her texts came in, and he ignored them momentarily to continue trying to clean up their booth for the fair. Even when his phone goes off again and again, probably berating him about leaving her on read with his receipts on, she needed to wait a few minutes. He was a bit too busy for this, he needed to get this cleaned up quickly so he could sneak the warning under Jack’s door.

[From Chessie ☀️:] You do not just get to leave me on read [From Chessie ☀️:] Did it ever occur to you I SHOULD BE THE ONE TO DECIDE WHAT I TELL MY BOYFRIEND [From Chessie ☀️:] I was going to tell him, you had no right [From Chessie ☀️:] I’m so pissed off at you, Zan, I stg. Not cool.

He groans as he reads her messages, this time opting to send back a quick, fast reply in hopes it’d get her out of his hair until he has time for her shit.

[To Ches:] Cleaning up club fair, text you when I’m done. Sorry, didn’t think you’d tell him shit and you scared me [To Ches:] Can you wait to yell at me til you see me later? We need to discuss Jack’s posters.

And as his phone starts to go off again, he puts it on silent and gets back to work. He’d deal with her later. Right now, he had way bigger fish to fry waiting on him. She wasn’t on the priority list, not today.

—-

He should have expected Ches to be waiting for him, but as he enters his room, he still jumps when he sees someone sitting on his bed glaring at him. “I was concerned.” He defends himself, immediately, as he sits down at his desk.

“Why did you lie about it being your wine?”

Was she really going to immediately start in on that? He didn’t see why it was a big deal, he’d been protecting her. Both of them, actually. What did she think would have happened if he told Elliot the truth? He’d spared them both a headache. At least, he thought he had until she started blowing up his phone. “I didn’t want to deal with the lecture while finishing up our posters. Plus, did you want to tell him why?” He moves to hand her one of each poster, and she groans as she reads them. What was wrong? He thought she wanted minimalism.

“We included our names? Fuck. I’m so getting dumped.” She throws herself back onto the bed, tossing it to the side. “At least we’ll both be on Elliot’s shit list. I told him the truth, you know. I’m not about to start lying about what I’m doing, or where I’ve been, to him. I love him, Zan.”

“So you told him about the posters?” That gets his attention. How much had she told? Was she trying to ruin everything they’d worked for? Finally, they were going to be able to get back at Jack for everything he had done. Every time he made their lives hell, and she was willing to throw it away.

But as she starts to answer his question, his concerns dissipate. “Of course not. I was hoping to stay unassociated with this shit, I didn’t tell him about Balo either before you get on my ass about that too. Can’t we just reprint them without our names to avoid the attention?”

“No. They’re staying as is.” “And Jack still hasn’t told her?” “He’s not going to tell her, Ches.”

“Fine.” She sounds so defeated, deflating into a heap on his bed with the word. “I can’t believe you fucking lied to Elliot, so I had to deal with how disappointed he is in me and go directly against what you said.”

“Did he believe you?”

The way she gets up and storms out of the room was more than enough of an answer for him. She was offended, which meant either he hadn’t or that Ches was annoyed he even had to ask. Either way, as much as her being angry usually bothered him, he didn’t have time to care currently. He grabs the keys to his rental car before he takes one last glance at the posters ready to go on his dresser. He needed tape, an abundance of it.

After all, he had a lot of posters to hang later.

—-

They hang the posters the next morning in silence. On occasion, he’d glance over to her to watch how seemingly robotic her motions were, and every time the guilt got to him as soon as he looked. The show had to go on, she knew that better than anyone. But as he hangs the last of his posters, his phone buzzes. He waits until he’s done to read the text message, realizing within seconds she’d sent it out to everyone. “Fuck.”

[From Chessie ☀️:] I’m sorry about the posters around the school today. I don’t want to get into my involvement, because frankly the details don’t fucking matter. The damage has been done, it was taken way too far, and I wish I never helped at all. My intentions don’t matter, nor do the events leading up to it. I fucked up, and I’m sorry. Just, remember if you’re a dick about anyone’s HIV status you’re an even worse person than Jack was in this situation. I expect a lot of you will be angry, rightfully so, but please leave Balo out of this. She had no idea about any of this.

He groans, of course she was going to try to distance herself from this. Anything to keep her precious Elliot on her side, right? He makes a face, quickly sending out his own mass text.

[To All Luxor Students:] If you have an issue with those posters and your name isn’t Balian Grace Driskell, cry me a river. Balo, call me.

#alcoholism tw #alcohol tw #alcohol abuse tw #suicide tw #HIV tw #no chains won't hold me down ( musings )#make no mistake i live in a prison that i built myself ( self paras )#yeah that's not who we are; we are not beautiful ( ches | balo )#suicide attempt tw #better safe than sorry y'all #debated waiting decided to not

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xsteriism · 5 years ago

Text

The Aftermath

73 Questions Continued

by celestial-irondad

2, 681 words

——

tagging: @officialtonystarkprotectionsquad @hollandrecs @snowflakeparker @peterparkerspidgeons @illegalchandler @jaijaiwriter

——

Breaking News: Tony Stark has a kid? Click here to read—

Mystery Stark child seen in recent vogue interview—

Former Playboy, Tony Stark— with child?

——

Peter was bunched up in his thickest hoodie and most comfortable sweatpants he owned. Sunglasses on and hood up, Peter walked down the hallways of Midtown High School. He looked like a fashion disaster, and it doesn’t help him hide from the stares of his fellow schoolmates.

“Dude, you look a mess.” It’s the first thing Ned said as soon as he sees Peter, bunched up like it’s in the middle of winter.

Peter hummed his wordless response, taking his sunglasses off, tucking it safely into his bag. “Did you see the news?”

His best friend rolled his eyes. “Like you have to ask. Mr. Stark’s son? What?”

The vigilante winced, making panicked motions to lower Ned’s voice. He looked around the hallway, and hopes it’s his imagination that the other students are looking— staring at him.

“I don’t know, man,” Peter all but whimpered, running his fingers through his messy brown hair. “I just found out this morning.”

Ned rolled his eyes yet again. “It’s the interview you crashed, bro. How did you even do that? How did you not notice a huge camera following you everywhere?”

Peter wanted to bury his head in soil. “I don’t know, man. I was sleep-deprived and tired and hungry and everything in between. It didn’t even click in my head that Mr. Stark was being interviewed until Pepper walked in, and even then my thoughts were still muddled.”

His best friend nodded along sympathetically like he understood, biting his lip to keep his laughter in. “You’re the smartest idiot I know.”

The teen groaned, burying his head in his hands. If he couldn’t bury his head in soil, his hands were the next best thing. Ned doesn’t help his crisis as he shows Peter all the articles claiming that Peter was Mr. Stark’s son. There was no possible way that the other kids at school hasn’t seen at least one of these and it’s making the vigilante anxious.

As the turned into their classroom, Peter’s spidey-sense tingles before he’s pulled back by the hood and slammed into a nearby wall. Peter hopes he didn’t dent or break the weak material of the wall. The teen looked up to the sight of Flash’s face, red with anger.

“Tony Stark’s son? Who do you think you are?” Flash sneered, “Are you that desperate for attention that you’ll lie on the internet? We all know your parents are dead.”

Peter flinched, the attack so uncalled for he has no time to prepare an appropriate response. Bringing up his parents was a low blow, and everyone knew that.

“Uh— realistically, I don’t have the resources or money to bribe or buy all those news articles,” Peter schooled his expression to not reveal any more than he already has. He knows Flash is insecure, rash and reckless, but he has no right talking about his parents the way he does.

Flash shouts his frustration, shoving Peter further back into the wall. The bell rings, the crowd thins and Peter stumbles into his class with Ned asking if he’s okay.

——

Lunch is not any better, with all the intrusive stares on Peter’s back. MJ and Ned doesn't seem to notice, both doing whatever it is that they do. The teen tries to refocus his attention back to his food, tries to block his anxiety from getting the best of him.

Then, a girl with blonde hair walks up to their table, smile big and teeth bright as she smiles. “Hi, Pete! You were really cool in that interview, even if you crashed it.” Her laugh, fake and obnoxious, makes MJ cringe, while Peter has to take some time to reboot his brain to form a proper response. “Uh, thanks? I didn’t even know I crashed it until I saw the video for myself.”

Stupid Peter, why did he tell her that? He tries to not notice that the stares are getting more intense.

“I’m—”

“Nobody cares,” MJ interrupted, waving her hand flippantly like she was physically trying to remove the girl from her sight. Peter had no idea if he should be grateful for MJ or sorry for the girl.

This was no doubt humiliating for the girl, but Peter’s happy he doesn’t have to deal with her anymore. She stomped away, huffing her contempt as she rejoined her own group of friends. Peter shoots a grateful glance to MJ, who doesn’t even acknowledge it.

——

Tony winced as he read the headlines F.R.I.D.A.Y showed. He’s definitely sure that Peter has seen these articles, because they were all over the internet. The engineer hasn’t entered his social media accounts yet, but he’s sure there’s some hashtag trending.

“F.R.I.D.A.Y honey,” Tony sighed, swiping the holograms away. “Has Pepper called yet?”

“Ms. Potts is currently getting the PR team to deal with this, she will be calling shortly.”

He pulled up his twitter and his prediction is correct, #TonyIsSuchADad is trending along with some others. He scrolled through some, smiling at all the GIFs of Peter and himself being domestic. Then he shakes his head to rid himself of the thought; he’s supposed to curb these rumours, not smile like a fool at them.

True to F.R.I.D.A.Y’s prediction, Pepper calls Tony just as he’s entering Instagram. “Tony, I need you to—”

“Yeah, I see it. I see them. What do you need me to do?” He jumped straight to the point, hoping Peter isn’t having too much trouble in school. “I can release a statement, go on TV, whatever you want.”

Pepper laughed and Tony can already imagine the crinkles by her eyes. “Normally, I have to kill before you even consider going on TV, and now since the kid’s involved, you’re offering to go on TV?”

The genius rolled his eyes, starting to pace a little in his lab. “The kid doesn’t want the attention on him, Pep, I have to fix this.”

“Okay, I’m arranging a press conference as we speak. They’ll arrive tomorrow and you can clear this up,” Pepper sighed and Tony can hear the click click of her heels as she walked.

Tony can feel his body relaxing, smiling as he thanked Pepper before hanging up. Just as he was going back to work, F.R.I.D.A.Y alerts him of a phone call from Ned. The billionaire frowned, because why on earth would Peter’s friend call during school?

“Mr. Stark, oh my god you picked up, wow I wasn’t expecting that,” Ned rambled as soon as Tony accepts the call. Tony’s anxiety is rising as the teen rambles, not getting to the point of his call soon enough.

“Ted,” he interrupted, “what’s going on?”

There’s silence on the other line, then murmuring, before Ned chuckled nervously. “Uh— ha, you see, Peter’s kind of having sensory overload and—”

“I’m on my way, get him somewhere quiet.”

——

Peter genuinely thought he would be able to get through the day without any incidents, but he should’ve known that it was wishful thinking, because now he’s having a killer headache. It started with a nudge here, a casual touch there, and suddenly Peter’s the most popular kid around. It was no wonder he was feeling a little too much a little too fast.

He’s surrounded by a small crowd of people pretending to be concerned, asking annoying questions like are you okay?

Yes, he’s on the ground, crying in pain and he’s okay.

The overwhelmed teen is willing to dive into mud if he can escape his oncoming sensory overload. He’s vaguely aware of Ned calling Mr. Stark despite his protests, and being guided to the nurse’s office.

After a few achingly long moments of writhing on the bed because of the blinding fluorescent lights, with the nurse shuffling in the background that sounded like the amplified sound of nails on chalkboard to Peter, the creaky door was finally nudged open.

Mr. Stark walked in almost soundlessly, right past the star-struck nurse, straight to Peter, and slipped his Stark-made noise-cancelling earphones over his ears. A-grade sunglasses came next, and Peter relaxed significantly when both sound and brightness became bearable. The young vigilante couldn’t help but feel embarrassed when his mentor helped slip on gloves over his shaking hands, feeling his cheeks warm as the delicate hands wiped away the tears on his face.

Peter felt himself being lifted into strong arms, relieved that he doesn’t have to use his trembling legs. And even in his half-hazy mind, Peter is lucid enough to notice the many eyes on him and can hear the muffled whispers about him.

His mentor shifts him so that Peter has his legs wrapped around the billionaire’s waist and his arms hung comfortably over his shoulders. The typical way a parent would carry a child.

The teen buries his face into his mentor’s neck, uncaring of the way his sunglasses digs into the bridge of his nose. He smells the familiar mild but masculine scent of his mentor’s favourite fragrance and can’t help but to relax even more.

“Don’t worry, Pete,” his mentor’s whisper could be heard through his noise-cancelling headphones. “I’ll get you home.”

——

Peter awoke to muffled voices. The room was pitch black, but Peter could still make out every single shape. He tugged his earphones off, relieved to note that his senses had calmed.

“What were you thinking?” A faint voice from the hallway caught his attention. Was that Ms. Potts?

A cough and the reply came. “So I know, maybe carrying the kid out of school like that wasn’t my best idea, but he was hurting and—”

“You made it worse, Tony!” Ms. Potts sounded like she was going to strangle Mr. Stark. “The tabloids are having a field day with the pictures the students posted online.”

Silence.

A soft sigh, “Tony, it’s alright. You know I fix things like these. I’m sorry I yelled, go take care of your kid.”

“He’s not my kid, Pep,” a grumbled reply came, but after a few seconds the door to Peter’s room slid open, and Mr. Stark walked in with gentle footsteps.

The king-sized bed dipped, causing Peter’s too light body to slide along and they could feel each other’s body heat. “Hey kid, you feeling okay?”

The teen offered his mentor a small smile, even though his body felt too heavy. He managed a small nod and the engineer’s eyes softened, hand reaching out to push Peter’s hair away so that it wasn’t covering his eyes.

“I’ll fix things,” Mr. Stark said, clenching his hand into a fist as he brought it back to his side. “Don’t worry you brilliant mind, okay? Just rest. I’ll clear this up in no time.”

Peter feels tears prick at his eyes at his mentor’s care and blames it on the aftereffects of the sensory overload. He’s grateful for the dark room, the only source of light from the slightly adjacent door. He grabbed Mr. Stark’s hand in a moment of impulse, squeezing it lightly in case he overestimated his strength.

“Thank you.”

Mr. Stark is many things, but seeing his innocent child lie in a bed, looking so fragile while thanking him makes him want to throw away all his titles and hide away with Peter. “Between you and me, Pete, there’s no need for the phrases ‘thank you’ and ‘sorry,’ okay? I’m here to protect you.”

The kid smiles a bright one this time and the genius has to really hold back from saying, ‘screw you’ to the world and hide the child in a castle far, far away from humanity. He leaves after Peter falls back to sleep, readying himself to solve their little problem.

——

Peter wakes up to nobody. He’s alone in Mr. Stark’s penthouse floor, and May hasn’t ended work yet, so he decides to stay for a while. He trudged to the living room, nearly becoming one with the couch as soon as he reaches it and switched the flatscreen on.

The first thing he sees is Mr. Stark’s face. The billionaire is sporting his infamous sunglasses again, even though he’s indoors and there’s no sunlight. He’s adorning an immaculate three-piece suit, tie perfectly tied and is for once sitting appropriately.

“Rumours has it that you have a son now, Mr. Stark,” the interviewer starts, pulling out a framed picture from under his desk. A camera zooms in onto a picture of Mr. Stark carrying Peter like a toddler.

It’s the first time that Peter’s seeing the picture, so he takes a closer look. Mr. Stark is cradling his head as if protecting him from the surrounding students who are gaping openly at them. Peter also looks ridiculous with his hoodie, noise-cancelling headphones, sunglasses and gloves on.

“What do you have to say, Mr. Stark?”

Said man pushed his sunglasses further up his nose, as if that could shield him from the spotlight. “He’s not my kid.”

Peter knows that Pepper probably had a script that Tony has to follow, to ensure he doesn’t mess up in front of live television, as well as to stop rumours. Realistically, Peter knows that those words are said to also deter people from targeting him in case they want revenge on Mr. Stark, but the cold words hurt nonetheless.

Mr. Stark had been calling him his ‘kid’ from the moment they met, with a few other nicknames here and there, so really, his hurt was understandable.

“Ah, he’s my personal intern,” Mr. Stark clarified, when the audience started clamouring. “He’s the only one allowed in my lab to get a hands-on learning experience.”

A small smile played at Mr. Stark’s lip, and before the interviewer can say anything, he speaks up again. “He’s very talented, a quick learner, very efficient in the lab, innovative too. If the rest of his generation is like him, we have nothing to worry about.”

Stunned, the interviewer and the audience went silent for a few moments.

“I’m sure he is, Mr. Stark, you are Stark Industries’ inventor after all, your lab should be efficient,” the interviewer said to dissipate the awkward tension. “The real question now is, does this intern have social media? We would all love to know more about him.”

The audience cheers, the sound so deafening that Peter could see Mr. Stark’s perfect features contort for a split second. He cleared his throat, calming the audience. “If he’s willing, I’m sure we can create the accounts for him.”

Once again, the audience explodes and Peter smiles, switching the channel to something significantly calmer, namely, Cartoon Network.

——

parker intern

@internparker

S.I. intern baby

2681 followers, 20 following

*** followed by @tstark, @nataliaromanova, @capamerica, and four others

——

parker intern @internparker

ello world! mr. stark says to not do anything stupid

you know who ✔️ @tstark

Are you sure you want that to be your first tweet?

parker intern @internparker

i’m not doing anything stupid!!!

——

<3000 @threethousand

THE GODS HAVE ANSWERED WE HAVE QUALITY IRONDAD CONTENT NOW NO MORE RUMOURS GUYS

cheeseburger @ironmanslays

i would like to thank our god and saviour jesus christ, as well as mY god ironman for making this happen

——

Peter went home to May with a bright smile on his face. After Mr. Stark came back, they talked about the social media and created the account together. Peter knows the ‘do’s and ‘don’t’s on what he’s allowed to post, but he’s still happy because Mr. Stark looks happy.

He’s still amazed at Pepper’s god-like work, how she managed to get an interviewer willing to interview Mr. Stark with such short notice was baffling, but he’s happy she did it, because the rumours had been stopped. Sure, everybody now knows that he’s an intern at Stark Industries, but he could live with that.

Besides, having the twitter account was a blast.

——

I hope you enjoyed!!!

btw should i make a taglist? If you're interested comment a ‘💙’?

#celestial irondad #peter parker #Precious Peter Parker #tony stark #protective Tony #fluff #tony stark fluff #Peter Parker fluff

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bangtanoneshotsx · 6 years ago

Text

I Do-Yoongi

“BTS’ Suga reveals he’s been dating for years, with marriage in the picture.” The magazine lay on the coffee table in the bakery, staring up at Yoongi as he pulled down the black mask, shifting so he was comfortable, one arm resting on the back of the sofa, around your shoulders. “You okay?” You asked, looking up at him, your attention being pulled away from where the display cakes were. The occasional sound of cutlery coming from the kitchen as the baker prepared the samples. Yoongi sighed, nodding his head. “It’s just...I’ve been avoiding the comments. I mean I don’t care what they think, I just don’t want to hear I’ve disappointed them.” Raising an eyebrow, you turned to face him more. “By having a life? By not just staying in your studio? Yoongi, they don’t own you, you deserve to be happy.” “I am.” Yoongi gave a warm smile, pulling you into him, placing a soft kiss on your lips. Just as you were about to respond, the baker returned, a tray of frosting and cake samples in her hands. As you greeted her with a smile, intently listening, Yoongi’s mind raced, worry and excitement flooding his mind. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ The words seemed to be spread across every newspaper as soon as BigHit released the statement. He was too scared to read the full articles, always just judging how he was perceived by the article headline. He had been at home with you, when the news broke. Holding your hand tightly as he refreshed Twitter, waiting for any hashtag that showed people knew. “It’ll be okay.” You spoke for the first time in a while, your eyes still focused on your phone as you did the same as Yoongi. “They can’t hate you for being human.” Yoongi let out a sigh, muttering out a ‘I suppose.’ Then the first hashtag appeared. #Sugaengaged was the first one to appear. A seemingly normal one, yet Yoongi knew what that carried. It showed he wasn’t owned by the band, it showed he had kept secrets from the fans. It showed that he wasn’t as attainable as some might think. He didn’t dare click it. He didn’t want to know what they thought. As much as he appreciated his fans, he didn’t want them in this part of his life. He didn’t want fear and doubts to creep in. The article had mentioned your first name, the only information Yoongi was willing to release. “It’s out.” He whispered, almost in awe at how everything had changed but still somehow felt the same. You hummed, already scrolling through the posts under the hashtag. “They’re nice Yoongi. All they want is for you to be happy.” A shaky smile appeared on the rapper’s face as he picked up his phone once more. Quickly finding the silhouette picture of his proposal, taken by Taehyung, Yoongi added it to a Tweet, writing, ‘I’m happy.’ Posting it, he watched as the numbers grew faster than he could imagine. A gasp left you as a grin appeared on your face, happy tears threatening to spill. “Look!” You exclaimed, practically shoving your phone in Yoongi’s face. A new hashtag had joined trending, “CongratulationsYoongiandY/N.” A sigh of relief escaped from Yoongi as he held you tighter against him, placing his lips on yours. Tears filling the brim of his eyes as relief rushed over him. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Yoongi let out a laugh as Jin chased after Jungkook, a yell of annoyance leaving the eldest. The youngest still had to have his hair done, his shirt was only half tucked in, despite the stylist’s protests. Yoongi’s knee bounced up and down as he sent another text to you. “Nervous?” Namjoon asked, joining the leader on the leather sofa that sat in the dressing room of the television studio. Shrugging, Yoongi sighed. “I guess. I just don’t know what he’s going to ask.” “Anything you feel uncomfortable answering, tap me, I’ll try and move on.” Nodding, Yoongi thanked the leader before looking in the direction of the door. Jimin stood in the doorway, letting them know it was time. ~~~~~~ Yoongi knew the time was coming. As the questions started to move from their latest album, to their personal life, Yoongi knew it was only a matter of time before the topic turned to him and his latest news. And it did. The interviewer turned slightly in his chair to face Yoongi who sat at the back. “Suga, first of all congratulations.” Yoongi gave a small smile, his breath caught in his throat as his heart raced at all the possibilities of what he could be asked. Muttering a small ‘thank you’ into the microphone, he anxiously waited. “So, how did you propose.” He could see the leader in front of him, tense up, almost prepared to redirect the interview. However, Yoongi lifted the microphone, a grin spreading across his face as he excitedly described the moment his life changed forever. The other boys could only listen, grins appearing on their faces as they listened to their eldest rapper talk with much more passion than they’ve heard before at interviews. Realising how much he was rambling, Yoongi felt heat rushing to his cheeks as he quickly lowered his head, mumbling the last words of his sentence. The interviewer nodded, looking back at his cards, before looking back to the rapper. Yoongi couldn’t read his face. Couldn’t figure out whether he would like the next question. “Is there anything you’d like to say to your fans following your statement? Some fans are hurt that you kept this a secret for so long.” Namjoon didn’t even need to feel the tap on his shoulder to know it was best if he answered the question. “I think the fans will understand that we didn’t try to hurt them by keeping this part of our life secret. We also hope that they wish Yoongi and Y/N happiness. I think that’s all we’ll say.” Thankfully, the interviewer didn’t push, simply nodding his head, already gauging by the look on Yoongi’s face he wouldn’t answer even if he tried. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~ His heart was racing as he came out of the bathroom to find Jin placing his newly polished black shoes against the wall. Yoongi’s white shirt was just tucked in, his hands too shaky to properly do it just now. Breathing a sigh of relief, Yoongi found the seven ties lying across the back of the chair found in the corner of the hotel room. Taking his, he wrapped it around his neck, groaning out in frustration as he shakily tried to tie it, only to find it coming out too long. “I’ll help.” Namjoon spoke. The leader’s shirt was only buttoned up halfway, the result of Namjoon’s panic over the missing rings, only to find them in his pocket. Sighing, Yoongi reluctantly agreed, standing still so Namjoon could take the tie. “Nervous?” Namjoon asked, chuckling as he received a glare as an answer, before Yoongi sighed, nodding. “There, all done.” Stepping away, the leader allowed Yoongi to walk to the mirror, checking the younger’s work. Giving a nod in approval, Yoongi thanked him. Somehow the loud chatter of the other seven men in the room calmed Yoongi. Allowing him to escape his mind as Jimin suddenly shouted, trying to find his left sock, Hoseok helped Taehyung with his tie, Namjoon and Jungkook fixing their shirts and Jin was talking to Yoongi’s brother. Letting out a breath, Yoongi fell onto the bed, a small smile gracing his lips as excitement bubbled up inside of him. ~~~~~~~~~~~ Yoongi could feel how sweaty his palms were as he stood at the alter. Anxiously looking back at the door you would come through, every so often, his hands clenched together tightly. The whispers of the audience was blocked out as he waited for the music to play. Hoseok chuckled at the sight of the rapper, the nervous man ignoring every smile sent in his direction, instead choosing to focus on the floor after giving up on you arriving any time soon. “I didn’t think he’d be this nervous.” Taehyung spoke, gaining the attention of the members that sat beside him. “He just wants everything to go right. He’s waited for this day since he met her.” Jin laughed, remembering Yoongi’s prediction after his first date with you. Before Jungkook could add to the conversation, the music began to play. Standing up, the boys watched as Yoongi turned to face the big wooden doors, his breath hitching as the bridesmaids entered. Finally, you arrived, your arm linked with your father’s. Yoongi let out a breath, his mouth gaped open in awe as tears quickly rushed to his eyes, soon rolling down his cheeks. Grinning, Jungkook nudged Taehyung, focusing the elder’s attention on Yoongi. Taehyung could only grin, a small laugh leaving him as he quickly took a photo of the lovestruck rapper. Yoongi could only allow the tears to fall as you took his hand, carefully walking up the steps to join him. His heart swelled with love as you wiped away is tears with your thumb. A smile on your face, tears welling up in your eyes, as you whispered out, “I love you.”

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hes-writer · 6 years ago

Text

The Other Woman II

Summary: Harry and Y/N are both famous, he cheats while he’s on tour and the media has a field day

Warnings: angst and mentions of smut

Word Count: 2.9k

When Y/N woke up the next morning, she should’ve felt refreshed considering that she got more than eight hours of sleep, but instead, her body folded in on itself from exhaustion. She shook to herself, partly angry because today was supposed to be a good day, this week was supposed to be productive and she was supposed to be happy—but she wasn’t and it was all because of Harry. Her bones cracked when she stretched her arms out in the open, feeling the empty space of Harry’s side of the bed, cold and desolate from their home.

Her phone buzzed on the dresser, vibrating against the wood repeatedly indicating that notification after notification entered through the system and that people were reaching out for her. For what, she didn’t know but Y/N lethargically reached for the rose gold device, hand tingling from the buzzing.

Turning the phone on, she was met with updates from all her social media apps: Twitter, Instagram and even messages from her mom managed to get in on the party. Using her fingerprint, her phone unlocked showcasing her screen saver of Harry and Bell when they were in Japan over the New Years. Her heart palpitated slightly, hands shaking for the reminiscence of last night.

When she opened Twitter, the top trending hashtag was “#Y/NandHarryAreOverParty” and she furrowed her brows. She may have been out of it at the moment, but she would definitely remember breaking up with her goddamn boyfriend. Suspicion arises in her body, creating an inner turmoil as to whether or not she was prepared to see public evidence of his actions. Her thumb hovered over the base, breathing getting heavier from the nervousness of what she was to see.

The first blurry picture in the thread was of a woman leaving a hotel room—presumably Harry’s. How the fans got up there with security, Y/N could not even comprehend, but that’s beside the fact that a literal woman was seen leaving his private room. She swiped, the photo was a little clearer than the last and Y/N could see that the woman on her phone was wearing a t-shirt and leggings. Except it wasn’t just any shirt, it was Harry’s ‘Dream Boat’ shirt adorning her petite frame and she scoffed at his audacity. And she really wished that this was all dream. Was he that careless? This could ruin his reputation, Y/N stopped herself from dwelling on Harry’s–possibly–deteriorating career because even after all he had done; the cheating, lying and betrayal, she still had the nerve to care for him when he so obviously did not return the feeling. The rest was of the woman walking in the hallway, keeping her head down when she saw people and making her way into the elevator. Smart.

lovie

“morning”

Y/N rolled her eyes upon seeing the preview of the message. So now he texts her. She ignored the message, figuring that he’d give up easily anyway, just like how he threw away a year’s worth of trust.

————

She arrived at the studio, not at all ready to act as if nothing was happening with her very public relationship, but it seemed that everyone caught news of Harry’s suspicious activities because as soon as she walked in, the receptionist had given her a small wave and a sympathetic smile even before she had the chance to adjust to the light. Not only that, but her fellow songwriters spoke to her as if she was too fragile and would break any second. Speaking to her softly and quietly as to not disturb her of her morose mood.

“Hey, Y/N. How are you doing?” Linda, a songwriter, asked her. Her hand was situated on Y/N’s shoulder, rubbing gently back and forth, comforting her.

“I’m fine, thanks. And you?”

It was a simple answer but it held a massive truth. Yes, she was hurt and maybe she’s on the verge of bursting into tears in a roomful of her closest colleagues but she was fine. She was fine because she knew that after this, it was going to be okay. She wasn’t sure how she will react when–or if–Harry decides to confront her about this, if they’ll work through it together like they always do or if they’ll give up on a special love that they’d found. She didn’t know if she was capable of forgiving him or if she was ready to let go of him. She was confused, but she was fine.

Once the paper was in front of her and then pen was gripped tightly in her hand, the ink seemed to flow smoothly on the notepad, no hints of pauses or doubts of hesitation of whether or not that certain verse made sense. Y/N poured out her feelings onto paper; the pain she was feeling manifesting from deep within her and ripped out by the calming activity of songwriting. Her current thoughts being objectively put on something that other people can see made the unfortunate event more profound. At least in her head, she can pretend that it was just her hyperactive imagination conjuring up insane thoughts. But when the words stared right back at her, she was haunted by Harry’s promises, things he’d taken into heart and she believed him because she cared and loved him too much.

Her emotions flowed out of her in destructing waves forcing her hand to move slower than her mind implemented ideas, her penmanship going from readable to scrawled scribbles trying to get everything out before she loses it from her short-term memory. But Y/N doesn’t think she ever will. Being cheated on was kind of normal for her, somehow her partners always found someone prettier, more talented and better and it has affected her negatively; that’s not something that you can brush off like it means nothing. That’s why she was hesitant about letting Harry in especially with his reputation but she never really paid attention to that. Regardless, it took some time for them to get together officially because of her hesitance but he was persistent and he waited for until she was ready; she was grateful for that.

What she didn’t appreciate was that he single-handedly decided to forgo their relationship and attend to his needs first without consulting her. Not to say that Y/N would be okay with him fucking somebody else, but she’d surely take matters into her own hands and fly to him. They hadn’t seen each other in a while, it would be good for them. She can’t even do that though, because she didn’t know if he’d be happy to see her and vice versa. New ideas flooded her brain, and before she knew it, her pen was agitatedly scratching the paper hard enough to tear the page she was on. The tip of the ink-filled instrument bleeding through the wispy page when she hardened her grip against it, anger and betrayal coursing through her. She was past the stage of confusion because now she knows his true intentions. He didn’t feel connected to her anymore and this was his way of showing it. Secretive or not, she didn’t know how long this has been going on, if it was just a slip-up, or if he carelessly did so because he didn’t care if she found out because he didn’t care anymore.

At the moment, nobody could stop Y/N from thinking such negative thoughts; she didn’t didn’t know who to believe anymore because the one person she trusted with her entire heart turned their back on her and she was left with no one.

“Y/N, Y/N! Stop!” The voice called out to her, muffled and diluted, the rush of voices echoing in her head muting the harsh shout of concern directed at her.

She realized she was crying, then. The pigment of the ink dispersing through the material when her tears pampered the page. The dot of her i’s alluding with a slight halo. She looked up from her lap seeing pairs of eyes looking at her with sympathy and she didn’t want that. She wanted to be loved but that was once again lost. She didn’t want them worrying about her, she didn’t want any of it. She just wanted Harry.

————

Harry woke up the following day well rested. He could feel the bite of his scratches rubbing against the coarse material of the hotel sheets making him wince. He lifted his heavy head up, seeing that Jessa wasn’t beside him anymore and that his left arm was a bit numb. He sat up on the bed, noticing that it was only his items that were present in his room.

He had a show today but before that, he had to do the contents of his day; like working out and sound checking, possible sight-seeing and then he was off to meet the best fans in the world. He was shirtless, he noticed that in midst of walking to the bathroom to freshen up, the cool air of the air conditioner raising goosebumps on his skin. He must’ve taken it off in the middle of the night.

Harry decided to be productive and make his own bed despite the knowledge that room service will probably do a better job than him. He found himself hastily searching for his Dream Boat shirt which was in Jessa’s hold, unbeknownst to him.

When he strode in the hotel gym, he could see fans sneakily taking photos of him. He had a sixth sense for that kind of stuff, it was more refined when he and Y/N began seeing each other but did not want the paps to know about them. But when he passed by a group, making a point to only wave and smile since he was running a bit behind on his schedule, one statement caught his ears.

“When did you and Y/N break up!?”

He froze, his right leg turning him around immediately facing the crowd of girls. Break up? What?

“Can you repeat what you said?” Harry asked, curious as to why someone would say this. He had a feeling why, but he was too careful to make sure that Y/N nor anyone would find out.

“Did you guys break up? There was another girl photographed leaving your hotel room,” He could hear blood swooping through his eardrums, though it could just be his heart starting to beat loudly.

Murmurs of ‘yeah’ repeated itself by the whole flock. The girl closest to him faced her phone to him, allowing him to see the alleged pictures. And there it was, Jessa, leaving his room dressed in the shirt that he couldn’t find.

“Isn’t that your shirt, Harry?”

He wanted to nod yes, he wanted to speak, he wanted to be able to do anything but he couldn’t because he swore that he just replayed his life before his eyes. Not only was his tryst exposed to Y/N, but it was revealed to the whole world. No doubt would the media have a field day. I mean, how often does a pop superstar make headlines for cheating on his famous girlfriend. He was toast with his publicist, they’re probably trying to find a way to get him out of the grave he dug for himself, cleaning his mess when he should take a stand and admit that he was wrong.

“Oh my god, Y/N’s was papped leaving the studio crying,”

Harry snapped his head toward the sound of the voice, demanding to see the pictures; only being taken minutes ago but with the power of sharing, it was in real time for him.

There was a video, too, of Y/N walking briskly, keeping her head down and with the help of her oversized sunglasses, he felt a clench in his chest because behind those barriers he knew that she had cried. That she found out and she was hurt. To think that he even sent a good morning text must’ve rendered him a jerk to her because instead of apologizing, he acted as if everything was alright, despite all the things happening while he was asleep.

——

During the concert, he was out of focus. He kept missing notes left and right, he wasn’t on the beat and he barely interacted with the people who came to see him. He had somehow forgotten the proper chords for the correct songs and he couldn’t help but let his voice crack and waver during ‘From the Dining Table’; a song about his ex breaking his heart and now it was a song about him breaking someone else’s.

Leaving the stage, he walked slowly to his dressing room, afraid that Jessa would be present again. He left his door wide open hoping that if anything were to happen, Mitch would be able to knock some sense into him. Everything he did was sluggish, Y/N hadn’t reached out to him for the whole day or sent him any cute dog pictures; that’s when he knew it was bad. He wasn’t saying that the whole situation wasn’t bad, but this is definitely the worst thing he’s ever done to her and he might not even get a chance to reprise himself. His phone misses her call.

——

Y/N sat on her home office chair, laptop open to an airline website. It took her some time to gain the courage to even touch the device again knowing that it was where she had first caught him. She had already booked a ticket to see Harry weeks prior and now, she wasn’t sure if she should cancel it or fly anyways. Confrontations were never her forté, but she felt something burning within her. It wasn’t rage or anger, she knew that. But it was keeping her on her toes, wanting Harry to feel how she feels. Her plan wasn’t to humiliate him or get revenge, no—she wanted him to see her raw emotions. Undiluted and powerful to make him hurt as much as she was.

She was going to do it. Y/N packed her bags and got her trusty neighbor to water their plants while she was away. She opted for two weeks, in case they work it out or in case they didn’t.

——-

A knock sounded on Harry’s door, interrupting his moping and feeling sorry for himself for losing the one thing he treasured. The door handle twisted and he opened the door to reveal Y/N. He immediately took a step aside, urging her to enter the room. She only had one bag with her.

It was an awkward silence. The only thing they’ve to each other was a simple ‘hello’. She eyed the bed, wondering if he had done it with her there too.

“I’m guessing you saw the pictures,”

“You think?”

He gulped at her tone, feeling anxious about what was to happen

“I’m sorry,”

She nodded indicating that she heard him but made no move to accept it.

He cleared his lumpy throat, “You can ask anything,”

“I figured I have the right,” It was curt and short, though she shed no tears.

“Okay, I guess I’ll start. I’m sorry Y/N,” He looked up to find her eyes for added sincerity, only almost piss his pants when she was staring straight at him. Gaze burning across his whole being while Y/N prided herself in being strong.

“I just … don’t know what happened. She came into my dressing room one night and I let her touch me and I shouldn’t have but I did,” A sob ripped through his throat, strangling his words. “Only you should’ve touched me that way. Only you,”

Y/N felt her front caving in from the force of his words. The sincerity behind them was so powerful that even she couldn’t deny how he spoke them wholeheartedly.

“Why did you do it?”

“It was so stupid of me. I’m such an idiot, I shouldn’t ha–,”

“Why did you do it, Harry?”

“B-because I was lonely,” He hung his head in shame. He would’ve been furious with Y/N if she used that excuse on him.

“Let me guess, and I wasn’t there?” He nodded regretfully.

“You should’ve told me. I could’ve been there for you, you didn’t have to do this. You didn’t have to ruin us”

He sobbed harder, the reality hitting him square in the face. Each second was more proof that their relationship was combusting in flames and he’d do anything to salvage what was left of it.

“I know it’s a long shot, but I’m really sorry,” She completely ignored his statement, opting to get what she really came here for.

“I wrote a song about you,”

His eyes widening at her confession. They always dedicated songs to each other but this time, he could tell that it was different.

“I want to sing it in a week’s time,” Harry instantaneously nodded at her request muttering an ‘of course’ about three times. “At your concert,”

“I want your whole family there: Anne and Gemma, I want the boys there,” Although he was confused, there was no way that he would reject Y/N now, especially since he did kind of owe her. “I want that woman there,” —————-

oooo what do you think she’s gonna (what do you wanna see LOL)

kinda had a writer’s block near the end and I’m not really proud of this one

shoot me a message or drop smth in my inbox if you like it! ❤️😄

@tvdplusriverdale @littledreamybeth @miscll-fangirl @mickmoon @trumpettay @ynm1505 @pxrrishly @harryspirate @kissme-hs @darkwolfpeanutskeleton

#harry #harry styles #harry styles angst #harry styles one shot #harry styles one shots #harry styles fluff #harry styles imagines #harry styles writing #harry styles x reader #harry styles x you #one direction

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holidaywishes · 6 years ago

Text

I Just Wanted You

Summary: You and Jamie used to be High School sweethearts before he got drafted. Now it’s nearly 10 years later when you finally see him again and you can’t believe you ever let him go

Warnings: none? more angst than I intended, a tiny little bit of fluff.

Author’s Note: I literally have no idea where this came from. I was going to write the next part in my Gally series or my Freddie series but then... Jamie Benn happened.

masterlist

The last time you saw Jamie, your heart broke. He had just been drafted to Dallas and asked you to go with him but you said no. The idea of giving up any possibility of your own future just to follow him around as he became something amazing seemed like a selfish request on his part. No matter how much you loved him. So you said no and he said you were over; and your heart broke into a million pieces. Naturally, when your best friend told you that she was getting married to a man who worked in Dallas, you knew the Bachelorette Party was going to be there.

“Think about it!” Claire exclaimed, “if we have it there, then we can literally just crash at Sam’s place -- which will soon be my place too. AND WE WON’T HAVE TO PAY FOR ANYTHING!”

“You wouldn’t have to pay for anything anyway...” you argued

“(Y/N),” she narrowed her eyes at you, “you’re not gonna see him. It’s not like we’re going to the game. Just forget Jamie Benn exists for a bit so we can have some fun at my Bachelorette Party.” Claire had been there for you after your breakup with Jamie. For days, she cuddled next to you in matching Onesie’s watching Meg Ryan Rom Com movies from the 80s and eventually your life went back to normal, so you knew that she wasn’t going to let you get hurt. Not again.

“Fine,” you finally caved, “we’ll go to Dallas.” Claire jumped up and down with glee before running to grab her phone to send out a mass text.

“Pack your bags, ladies. This bitch is getting married and her maid of honour is putting on a kick ass Bachelorette Party in Dallas. Three days of alcohol and no rules before I give myself to the only man I’ve ever truly loved. Let’s give Dallas a party like they’ve never seen!” All you could do was giggle and roll your eyes when you read the text as you sat across from your best friend. It was going to be three days of alcohol for sure but there would most definitely be rules.

Especially with Claire’s group of Sorority Sisters she’d collected over the years.

The flight from Vancouver to Dallas was a rocky one so touching down felt like you’d all just escaped Death. One of Claire’s friends grabbed a cab as soon as the group got out of the airport and everyone piled in to head to Sam’s place; turning to you for “the plan.”

“Hmm, okay. Here’s what I’ve got going in my brain...” you started, “drop our stuff at Sam’s, go have a bite to eat -- steak, chili, pizza, whatever, -- come back, get dressed and head out. But understand me ladies, there are rules. There will be one stop at one strip club. No more and we will not be ordering a stripper to the house so count your losses if you don’t get the kind of show you want at the club. No drugs and no drinks from strangers. You meet a guy at the club and you want to go off with him? That’s up to you but make sure your phone battery is full so that if you run into trouble one of us can get you help. Do I make myself clear?”

“Sir, yes, sir!” the girls chanted mockingly and you laughed

“Alright then..” When it was finally time for the night to begin, the apartment was filled with loud, giddy screams and you weren’t sure what you signed up for; forcing you to take a few too many shots of Tequila before even ordering an Über.

“Car is here girls, let’s do this” you yelled to the group of girls, frantically checking their makeup in the hall mirror, earning a mocking eye roll from you.

“WAIT WAIT!” Claire shouted, “we need a selfie first!” The group huddled around Claire and took a few photos -- funny faces, sexy poses, a kiss on the brides cheek and one normal one that Claire chose as her favourite to post.

@clairebear tagged you in a photo: “My girls and I are ready to show Dallas the true meaning of Party. #werecominforya #hideyoboys #hideyohusbands #Dallas2019 #ifyouresingleletsmingle #ClairesBacheloretteParty2019″

@(Y/I/H): Counting down until this lady can no longer post hashtags about different cities hiding their men from her. #Clairesgettingmarried #ClairesBacheloretteParty2019.

It wasn’t long before you’d hit up almost every bar in Downtown Dallas and you could see some of the girls were in desperate need of water so you collected each of them and starting walking down Main Street to find some kind of fast food place to eat when you heard one of the girls scream from the back of the group.

“What’s wrong!?” you and Claire said at once.

“Holy fuck! Claire, check your Insta...” Claire hopped on her phone, navigating to the app and immediately looked at you when she saw the comment. You knew it had to be from him, it was the only reason she’d look at you like that.

“Jamie motherfucking Benn commenting on your post. On a picture of us! Say something back!!!” You and Claire were still deadlocked trying to decide what to do

“Let’s just step in here and grab some food. We’ll... figure out a reply later” you answered and the girls looked at you dumbfounded. While they ordered, you grabbed a booth and opened your phone to look at the picture, scanning through the comments to find Jamie’s

@jamiebenn14: you think you can party harder than Dallas? I doubt it but I’m willing to make a bet with you.

You stared at his comment for too long before you finally noticed that you had a message and your thumb hovered over the little paper plane in the corner of your screen; trying to garner the courage to open it.

@jamiebenn14 would like to send you a message: long time, no see. You look good.

That fucker. After ten years, he thinks he can just slide into your DM’s and all will be forgotten. Telling you you look good as if you’d be that gullible, that starstruck, that desperate to cave into him like you always did. Unfortunately, that’s exactly what happened.

@(Y/I/H): What’s the bet Benn?

It was all you could muster. You had heard he was in a relationship and the last thing you needed was to have some chick you’d never met before show up and punch you in the face. You were trying your best not to do anything that might come across as flirtatious or presumptuous but he was your ex...

@jamiebenn14: Meet me and Ty at the Nines. We’ll show you that Dallas is a better place to party than Kelowna.

@(Y/I/H): I don’t think so. That wasn’t really the point -- we weren’t implying that Kelowna is a better place to party but that we’re better at partying than anyone in Dallas...

@jamiebenn14: I don’t think so. You haven’t met these people. You’re out of your league

@(Y/I/H): I guess I’ve always been out of my league...

The conversation more or less ended there and you had to pull Claire aside to tell her what was going on, what he was saying, when Shandra overheard and took over the situation.

“Hell yeah we’ll go to the Nines to meet Jamie Benn and Tyler Seguin!”

“Shandra shut up!” Claire yelled and you held your face in embarrassment

“What?! How the hell do you even know them?”

“We went to High School with Jamie, we’ve never met Tyler before --”

“And we’re not going to...” you chimed in before Shandra could add in any quips to Claire’s statement.

“Fine whatever.” You knew that Shandra was going over to the rest of the group and telling them everything, forcing you and Claire to take a deep breath before heading back to the table.

“Listen to me,” Claire said quickly before the two of you walked back to the table, “you can call it a night. The girls are going to be really aggressive about this and I’m too drunk to say ‘no’ to them right now. So you can call it a night and we’ll pick it up tomorrow. That way you don’t have to see Jamie. And if you block him you won’t have to hear from him...”

“I’m not bailing on your Bachelorette Party Claire,” you replied, “I’ll survive. I’ll be fine. I’m sure he only looks good on T.V....”

You were obviously wrong. The second your eyes locked on him at the club, you could feel yourself drooling. He had most definitely gotten better with age and you were the girl who let him go. What an idiot you were.

“(Y/N), Claire, there you are!” Jamie greeted, pulling Tyler and who you assumed was his girlfriend over, “I was starting to think you weren’t going to take me up on the bet.” You smiled awkwardly but still couldn’t find the words. Why was this so god damn hard?

“Nice to meet you,” Claire stuck her hand out to Tyler, “I’m Claire.”

“Tyler and this is Kate” he replied and she gave a small, unenthusiastic wave

“This is (Y/N)” you were suddenly snapped away from Jamie to greet his teammate.

“Hi, nice to meet you..”

“So, you’re the One That Got Away huh?” Tyler said and Jamie gave him a quick nudge, making you huff slightly. You weren’t The One That Got Away, not really, more like the One Who Had Too Much Pride. Your mind was racing. Part of you wanted to stay and get to know Jamie again, another part of you knew it was wrong and that it would end in flames but an even bigger part of you was pissed that he wasn’t describing the situation properly.

“I’m sorry.. I ca- I have to go..” you stumbled over your words, “I’ll see you at the house Claire. Stay safe please...”

“Wait (Y/N)” you heard Jamie call after you but you just continued running out of the crowded room. When you finally got out, you noticed that your phone had died and you had to settle for hailing a cab.

“You’ll never catch a cab” his voice boomed from behind you, sending shivers down your spine

“You don’t know that”

“It’s late. I’ve lived here long enough to know when they stop accepting fares.” You looked back at him quickly, and quite pathetically, before getting angry and defensive

“Fine, I’ll walk then.”

“You don’t know where you’re going!”

“I’ll manage”

“You’ll end up in a ditch”

“Don’t think so”

“(Y/N) stop, let me call you an Über or drive you home or something, please..” You stopped walking, your back toward him, and contemplated your options

“Fine. Order me an Über but then go back inside. I don’t wanna talk to you...” He entered in the address you gave him and tried to get you to talk to him but you refused

“I don’t get it. What did I do? I barely said anything in there. I couldn’t have offended you that quickly?”

“Just stop Jamie. Stop talking. It’s not about what happened in there, that doesn’t matter. It’s about what you’re telling people happened back then...”

“What does that mean?”

“The One That Got Away?”

“Yeah..?”

“Jamie.. you broke up with me because I wouldn’t move here with you”

“That’s not exactly what happened”

“No, you’re right. You asked me to skip my graduation, leave my family and my friends to move to a new city with no job prospects or qualifications to be with you. Because your life was more important than mine”

“I never said my life was more important. I thought you would want to experience this life with me... And I didn’t think we’d survive long distance”

“You never even tried to give it a chance...”

“I.. I ju--”

“Exactly. Look I’m sorry. I’m sorry I came out tonight. I’m sorry I responded to your DM. I’m sorry for everything but you can go back inside. I’ll be fine. Thanks...”

“Why couldn’t you have at least stayed in touch with me?”

“Excuse me?”

“After we broke up? We were friends first before anything and that just went out the window..”

“You broke my fucking heart!! The last thing I wanted was to keep you in my life without actually having you in my life”

“Like my heart didn’t break?”

“You don’t get to play the victim here, Benn, you ended it. I didn’t. I wanted it to work. I would’ve done FaceTime or Skype or emails or texts or anything but you ended it so that was that. You can’t say that your heart broke because you didn’t even fucking try!”

“(Y/N)”

“And you moved on rather quickly anyway so...”

“Not really..”

“This was a mistake... Have a nice life Jamie. I’ll see you never.” You turned your back to him and waited to hear his footsteps head back inside but they neither dissipated or got closer to you. He never moved.

“I loved you. Ending it-- us was the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do. Being cold about it seemed like the easiest way to handle it but, ask Jordie, I cried after you told me you wouldn’t stay with me. That you didn’t want to be with me...” You turned around to see a small crowd forming but all you could focus on was Jamie’s sad expression

“You didn’t give me an option Jamie. I was starting my own life and you were too and I couldn’t take that away from you. I didn’t think you’d take it away from me either but there you were, telling me to drop everything for you. And I would’ve, because I loved you so much, but I didn’t want to resent you”

“You would’ve resented me?”

“Maybe... I don’t know. All I know is that it really sucked and it really hurt me that that’s how we were ending.” His gaze dropped to the street and you watched as the headlights from your Über shone across the building, showcasing a small tear on Jamie’s cheek when he looked up at you again

“I’m sorry...” it suddenly hit you that he said you didn’t want to be with him and your mind raced to find something to say as he started walking away

“I just wanted you” he stopped dead in his tracks as your words reached him, turning around when the silence was too much to handle, “I would’ve done anything for you, for us, because I just wanted you Jamie. Which is why it hurt so much when we couldn’t find a way to make it work.” He just kind of stared at you and you couldn’t tell if he was waiting for you to continue or if he was trying to come up with something to say himself. You had laid it all out for him again and you couldn’t wait anymore so, you turned to the car waiting for you; opening the door with that same broken heart you had nearly 10 years ago. You heard a quick shuffle of feet and suddenly Jamie’s hand was on your waist and you turned around to meet his stare; he didn’t say anything, only leaned in slowly to capture your lips in a kiss that felt like it had been built up in his system for ages, only stopping when the driver honked his horn.

“I don’t have time for this. Either get in or shut the door!” With a bright smile, Jamie pulled you away from the car and brought you in for another kiss as he slammed the car door.

#Jamie Benn #Jamie Benn imagine #NHL imagine #masterlist

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complicatedandstained · 5 years ago

Text

The Other Day at Hot Topic: Man Crush Thursday

“Caption:” Demyx announces, reading his handiwork from the screen of his phone with the zeal of someone reading a marquee on Broadway blazing with bulbs. “Up-and-coming rockstar, Roxas, rocking his new #TheOrganization swag @a-nobody-named-roxas

...

#ManCrushThursday #RockBand #Music #Keys #Singer #EmoKid #SkaterBoi #SeeYouLaterBoy #[KissyFaceEmoji]”

Roxas blanches. He’s not sure which of the hashtags to take issue with first. Possibly the Avril Lavigne lyrics which Sora had sung to him a thousand times too many when they were in junior high.

Vanitas has no such reservations. “Man Crush Thursday is not a thing,” he objects unhelpfully, straightening a particularly disorganized box of Snickers bars below the counter. He’s crouched close enough to be involved with the conversation, far enough away that he can stay out of what he wants to and look busy while doing it.

“I’m a trendsetter, Vani,” Demyx insists, artfully plumping his elaborate hairstyle.

“Is that what that is…” Vanitas mutters, his trail off a sign he’s remembering his recent decision to try to behave himself.

“Excuse me?” Demyx sounds affronted but the corner of his lip curls up, reassuring Roxas that the David Bowie look-a-like standing before him doesn’t give a shit about Vanitas’ good opinion, or, quite possibly, anyone’s at all.

Vanitas pretends he is too far away to catch this last bit and attempts to look busy with the Twizzlers, so Demyx angles his phone at Roxas again.

“Demyx.” Roxas warns, managing to shift his Organization swag into one arm and, with the other, reaching out to lower Demyx’s phone. He’s afraid of what fresh horrors another five minutes on Instagram will bring. “I don’t think I should be getting my picture posted while I’m at work. From what I’ve seen of Saïx so far, he will fire me and then roast marshmallows over my corpse.”

Already, Roxas can hear the beginnings of the sharp lecture that will no doubt proceed his slow demise.

“That’s what you’re worried about getting fired over?” Vanitas mutters, gesturing at Roxas critically with one of the Snickers bars. “Really?”

Not a word, Roxas is about to bite back, but the sound freezes up in his throat, as Demyx laughs easily and slips his phone out of Roxas’ grip and into an over-large athletic short pocket.

“Relax, boys. Saïx is living that social media free life. It’s like…” Demyx swishes his hand around as if to illustrate that he has no idea what he’s talking about, “a positive mental health thing.”

“I’d like to live a Demyx-free life,” Vanitas tells a box of Sour Patch Kids, as he removes it from the Skittles carton. “As a positive mental health thing.”

Roxas unconsciously reflects that Vanitas is not unlike a Sour Patch Kid. First, he’s sour, then he’s uncomfortably sticky, gooey, and difficult to get off the bottom of your shoe.

Roxas glances to Demyx for a reaction and is, again, a little impressed to find none at all. Roxas thinks he might have to take a page out of his book.

Instead, Demyx’s eyebrows have darted up, one pierced and glinting, and then he’s scrambling to search through the Organization swag bag that Roxas had wrongfully assumed had been fully emptied into his arms.

“Oh no,” Demyx grumbles good naturedly, “Saïx! The stickers!” Finding nothing in the bag, Demyx reaches out and plucks a few of the stickers from Roxas’ hand. “I’m going to need some of these back—for Saïx. He’s a huge The Organization fan, you know…”

Roxas doubts this, judging by Saïx’s reaction to Demyx’s on-the-clock recruitment process, but he already knows better than to express such doubts to Demyx.

As Demyx shuffles through the designs, he tilts his hand to Vanitas, crouching down to retrieve a pair of Bendy and the Ink Machine socks somebody had dropped at check out. “Vani, you want a sticker?”

“What am I, a kid at the dentist’s office?” Vanitas gripes without looking up from his work. “Leave me out of this.”

“And Saïx is out today, right?” Demyx frets, glancing around the store as if the man might be lurking in the shadows of an anime display. Satisfied, he nods to himself. “Guess I’ll have to stick them into his mailbox or run them over to—” “Axel?” Vanitas interrupts, casually straightening from his crouch, and tossing the socks over his shoulder, where they land surprisingly neatly on the checkout counter. He turns to face a mildly surprised Demyx head on.

The store may be close to 80 degrees, but Roxas feels like he’s just stepped under an AC vent roaring full blast.

Vanitas had threatened to get the next employee to come in to confirm that Axel and Saïx are far more than just friendly. And Demyx and Axel seem close, so if he says they are, no jokes, then there can be no doubting it...

But there’s no way…

“Well, yeah,” Demyx’s smile is nervous, twitchy, like it had been when he’d last seen Saïx in person. He flutters the stickers in the air, and one floats to the ground. “I mean, hell, he’s definitely the more approachable of the two.”

“Hey, Demyx…” Vanitas sidles up to his side, movements languid, seamlessly smooth, predatory, and voice even more so, as he wraps an arm around the man’s back and gives it a friendly squeeze. “You and Axel have been friends for a long time, right?” Demyx smiles broader even as his brow furrows, glancing down to Vanitas’ eyes. “Um,” he clears his throat. “Yeah? Yeah, man, he was one of the first people to join The Organization.” He pats Vanitas on the back. “We wouldn’t be a band without him.”

Vanitas nods and removes his arm. “You’re just now finding out Saïx is a fan? He’s been with Axel that whole time, hasn’t he?”

No way I could be this wrong about them…

Roxas bites his bottom lip and watches Demyx carefully.

Because that would mean I was a total prick to Axel.

And he was so nice to me back, that I didn’t even realize it.

“Well,” Demyx relaxes into the gossip and tilts his head, wading through the memories, the flop of his hair while he does it reminding Roxas of a droopy-eared dog, “give or take a few little hiccups. But who hasn’t got those, am I right?” His smile fades as he glances to Vanitas only to find him locking eyes with Roxas. Demyx’s easy tone falters. “Why?”

Hiccups? Roxas’ chest aches like he’s been carrying something simultaneously too heavy and too hot.

Vanitas’ smile is confident, more than a little vindictive.

“You’re… you’re joking.” Roxas’ breath catches, replaying the way he’d insulted Saïx earlier over in his head, and then trying to picture Axel and Saïx together. Polar opposites, but he has to admit, they’d look gorgeous side by side… Tall, muscular, intimidating, hair like fire and ice... And they had been on that dumb orientation video together and… and Axel had kept telling Roxas ‘I help Saïx run his life.’ “You and Axel were just joking. Axel and Saïx aren’t really… together… are they?”

“Why?” Demyx’s good humor drops off entirely now. “Was Axel messing with you?” He rolls his eyes toward the heavens like he’s pleading for Axel’s soul, his hair flopping again. His voice takes on an edge both hard and pleading, “He can be kind of a jerk that way. He just doesn’t even think—” “No.” Roxas shakes his head quickly, and Demyx’s frustration drops off at once, if a bit warily. Out of the corner of his eye, Roxas can see Vanitas’ eyes flitting between the two of them, brown, but he remembers them earlier, flashing gold in the light. This unnerves him all the more as he tries to replay Axel’s words in his head. “No, no, Axel said…”

‘He is smart... successful... built like a tank…’ Axel’s green eyes had flicked playfully, scanning his face, trying to decide if Roxas believed him.

“But… they’re so…” Roxas shakes his head again, feeling his mouth dip open, and hang there. ‘Different’ doesn’t feel like a strong enough word.

‘Well, they say opposites attract…’

Axel’s taunting smile is beginning to take on a new meaning in Roxas’ head, and something in his stomach starts to constrict.

“Hey.” Demyx shakes his head, irritation slipping off, as he shrugs. “Don’t look at me, man. I don’t get it either.”

Roxas stares intently at Demyx for a minute and then cracks a smile. He grew up with Sora, after all, ever the practical joker. And he had heard them joking about Saïx before. He knows it. “You’re all screwing with me, right?”

If it’s true, and Axel tells Saïx what I said about him, I can kiss this job good bye.

Demyx glances at Vanitas who shrugs a shoulder himself, and insists, “I already tried to tell him.”

Demyx’s brow furrows, and he hesitates, head shaking just slightly. He puts on a soft, almost of a smile. “See for yourself, buddy.” Demyx taps at his phone for a few more seconds and then hands it to Roxas.

Roxas has trouble making his fingers wrap around the thing. He hopes Demyx can’t see his arm shaking. His examination of the phone screen is anticlimactic, however. The Instagram search screen is up and Demyx has filled it in, but not yet hit ‘enter.’

“flurryofdancingflames?” Roxas reads, confused. “Is this Axel’s username?”

Demyx forgets his irritation, whether real or feigned, upon hearing this, and claps Roxas on the shoulder. “Yeah, see how his handle is so much awesomer than yours because I came up with it?” At Roxas’ continued confusion, Demyx clarifies, “Originally his account was just to post videos of his fire-dancing.” Vanitas laughs, but it’s not a friendly thing. “Now who’s screwing with Roxas?” “I’m serious! He took most of them down, but I bet I can find at least a couple—” Demyx takes back the phone before Roxas has got up the nerve to press the search button, and in a few seconds, he has a still pulled up. The background is ink black, but Axel’s impossibly lanky silhouette is as unmistakable as the dark gold and amber glint of his hair, even tied off in a knot. His back arches, catlike as he swirls rings, frozen in the frame above his body, the yellow light gleaming off every inch of him not covered with fabric or tattoo. And to top it off, he’s grinning like a sinner straight at the cameraman, and now in this moment, straight at Roxas.

Roxas’ throat feels dry and his heartbeat starts to pick up at a steady pace. “Oh,” says Roxas. Oh.

“Impressive, right? Here.” Demyx taps the screen and a ghostly white arrow appears over the fire dancer. He taps it again and the video begins to play.

#kingdom hearts #roxas #demyx #vanitas #axel #akuroku #akusai #the other day at hot topic #my writing

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fandom-smut-shots · 6 years ago

Text

Lance McClain - Selfie

Selfie – Lance McClain

SuicidalConnorMurphy

A/N: Male!reader. High school AU.

Words: 2,357

Lance McClain was the Selfie King. If he were to be published in the Garrison High yearbook, his trademark would be “Took the Most Selfies.” Nobody particularly minded it, though. They teased the Cuban on more than one occasion, but the taunts never had any heat to them. Lance had a rather impressive Instagram following, considering his feed consisted of selfie after selfie after selfie, sprinkled with a few photos of his favorite beverages from the local coffee shop.

As his best friend, you were a frequent occurrence in his postings. “Hanging with the best boyo!” was a common caption on Lance’s photos, followed by your username and an onslaught of hashtags. You desperately wanted to be more than the official Best Friend, but you supposed that was better than being a background character.

One of the reasons that Kaltenecker’s Café was Lance’s favorite caffeine destination was because you were a barista there on the weekends. You usually worked the morning shift, leaving your afternoons open for hanging out and catching up on any homework you didn’t finish during the week.

Every Saturday and Sunday, at ten in the morning, like clockwork, Lance was there, chatting up your coworkers while you prepared his drink of choice. In the spring, it was an iced Americano with cream and vanilla syrup. Summer was a cinnamon chai milkshake. Autumn was a pumpkin spice latte. Winter was a hot chai latte, dirty if he was studying.

It was ten a.m. on Saturday, and you had just clocked in for your shift. Your hands wound around your back, securing your apron as you padded out to the front counter. The café was quiet, so you set about prepping your station and brewing yourself a beverage to keep your energy up. The owner was a sweetheart, and one of the first things he’d told you during training was that you were welcome to help yourself to any drink in the café provided that you prepared it yourself, kept it out of customer view, and didn’t let it go to waste.

The bell above the door chimed, altering you to a new customer.

“Good morning. Welcome to Kaltenecker’s,” you called without looking up from the counter. Tanned skin appeared in your peripheral vision, drawing your gaze upwards. A smile settled on your lips as Lance leaned against the counter, signature smirk on his lips, one hand raised and poised into a finger gun.

“Good morning, handsome,” he grinned. Fondness fluttered in your stomach, only to be crushed by the reality that you were just his friend. Though the entire campus knew that Lance was a proud bisexual, you couldn’t help but doubt that you would be even close to his type. He flirted with everyone, it seemed. Everyone except for you.

“Hey, Lance,” you greeted, already punching his order into the register. “Your usual?”

“You know it,” he beamed. “Extra shot, please? Finals are coming up.”

“Don’t remind me,” you groaned. Once the brunet paid for his drink, tipping as usual, you set about concocting it.

“Study buddies?” Lance inquired with a wiggle of his thin cinnamon brows. The two of you always prepped for midterms and finals together, though your benefits fell short. You always got distracted by his midnight blue eyes and sun-kissed skin, leading you conveniently forget every single chapter you quizzed each other on.

“Of course,” you agreed without missing a beat. Failing finals was worth quality time with the boy you’d never admit your gay attraction to.

“Awesome!” He shot you a toothy grin, and the butterflies that had been dancing in your abdomen exploded into homosexual confetti. You slid his drink across the counter with practiced ease, watching as he reached for it before you even fully released the cup. Your fingers brushed against his, and it felt like a thousand volts shot through your skin. You struggled to stifle a shiver, trying to keep your gay heart under control.

Lance turned his back to you, holding his drink in one hand and his cell phone in the other. He tapped the screen to activate his camera before hoisting the device into the air, effectively capturing the both of you in the screen’s dimensions.

“Say cheese!” the brunet declared, hardly giving you a chance to smile before he tapped the center button to snap the photo. Satisfied, he shoved his phone into his pocket and took a large swig of his beverage

He moaned loudly in approval, and the noise traveled straight to your lower regions.

“You’re the best, (y/n),” he stated. “My place after work?”

You nodded. “I’ll be here. Need me to bring my books?”

He offered you a sheepish chuckle, scrubbing a hand across the back of his neck. “Heh, yeah. I may have left mine in my locker today.”

You rolled your eyes, a fond smile on your lips. Lance McClain was the epitome of unprepared.

“See you later,” he said with a wink, shooting you one final finger gun gesture before spinning on his heel and sauntering out of the café. You chewed your lip, staring after him like a lost puppy.

When you took your first break, you withdrew your phone from your pocket to peek at your notifications. It came as no surprise that Instagram was at the top of the list, alerting you that Lance had tagged you in a post. You unlocked your phone and tapped on the note, dropping your weight onto one of the metal folding chairs in the break room. Leaning back against it, your gaze was met with the photo Lance had taken earlier, displaying himself, his drink, and you in the background. Scrolling down, you allowed yourself to read the caption.

Got to see this cutie again! Look how cute u are @username! Cant wait for our study sesh later!

#caffeine #kalteneckers #bestbud #isnthecute? #shoulditellhim? #maybenexttime

A blush dusted your cheeks at the compliment, and you reminded yourself that this wasn’t the first time Lance had posted flirty captions in your honor. What caught your attention, though, was the hashtags. What did “should I tell him?” mean? What did Lance want to tell you? Why wasn’t he telling it?

Ten minutes rushed by as you pondered the brunet’s words, and with a sigh, you stuffed your phone back into your pocket, returning to the world of coffee beans and soy milk.

Nearly a week later, finals had come to an end, and the student body breathed a collective sigh of relief. Lance had passed with flying colors, thanks to your tutoring, and you were grateful that his flirting hadn’t impacted your focus.

You met up with Lance after his last test of the day, and his first instinct was to wrap you in a hug and lift you from the ground.

“You’re the best!” he shrieked, squeezing his arms around you. You only hoped he couldn’t hear how fast your heart was drumming.

“How did you do?” you inquired once your feet regained contact with the floor.

“I passed!” he beamed, taking your hands in his. “I passed everything!”

You grinned, hoping he couldn’t feel how sweaty your palms were. “That’s amazing, Lance! I told you you were smart!”

“Come on,” the brunet said as he draped an arm across your shoulders. “I’m taking you out for dinner to celebrate and to thank you.”

“Oh, Lance, you don’t have to-“

“Don’t even think about getting out of it,” he grinned. “I owe you. Without your help, I would have had to repeat the year!”

You chuckled softly. “Well, I can’t have my best friend falling behind, now can I?”

He led you outside to his cobalt blue Camaro, climbing into the driver’s seat while you slid into the other side. “Despacito” blared through the speakers as he drove to a nearby diner, one that the two of you were quite fond of.

Your eyes danced across the sign that read Vrepit Sal’s Diner, and your heart warmed at the familiarity. Every year, the two of you would come to the diner to celebrate after passing midterms and finals. Lance led you inside, keeping his arm around you. The owner, Sal, waved as you entered, calling for you to sit anywhere you preferred. You followed the lean brunet to his favorite booth by the window, sliding in across from him.

Sal approached with your favorite drinks, already knowing what the two of you would order. You had spent so many lunches at the diner, it was a wonder why neither of you worked there.

As Sal shuffled away to prepare your food, Lance rose from his seat. You watched him with curious eyes as he gestured for you to slide further into your side of the booth. You complied, watching as he slid down beside you.

“Selfie time!” he declared, and you laughed. You really should have seen it coming. You plastered on the calmest smile you could as Lance opened his camera, holding it at arm’s length in front of you. You rested your head on his shoulder, and with a grin, he placed his head on yours, winking at the lens. The picture snapped, and a moment later, Lance returned to his side of the booth, leaving you feeling a draft.

His thumbs typed furiously at his phone, no doubt uploading the photo to Instagram. You sipped at your drink while you waited, knowing you would be tagged in the post and alerted when it was viewable.

Your phone dinged, and you picked it up to check the notification. Sure enough, Instagram had informed you of a tag from Lance, and you clicked it open. On your screen sat the photo of you, edited via a bright filter, and you scrolled down to read the caption.

Look at him!!! Isnt he adorable??? Lunch at vrepit sals!

#lunch #yummy #vrepitsals #bestbud #cutiepie #imacoward

Your brows furrowed in confusion at the tags, and you glanced up to question Lance about them. Sal returned with two plates of food, setting one in front of each of you. Aloud, you thanked him, but in your head, you cursed his interruption. The brunet was a disaster when asked to focus on two things at once, and as much of a chatterbox as he was, food always won out over anything else.

With a sigh, you ate your lunch, missing the longing gaze in those midnight blue eyes sitting across from you.

Another week passed, and prom night was fast approaching. Garrison High was buzzing with excitement as boys and girls alike gushed over who they were going with and what they were wearing.

The only person you wanted to ask you was your best friend, and only saw you as such. If he didn’t ask you, there wasn’t a point in attending.

“Hey, (y/n),” came Lance’s familiar voice. Classes had ended for the day, and you were ready to go home and escape all of the prom talk.

“Hey, Lance,” you greeted, offering him a weak smile.

“You going to prom?” he questioned.

You shook your head. “I doubt it.”

He frowned. “Why not? Has anyone asked you?”

“Nobody I’m interested in,” you shrugged. “I don’t really want to go with someone I don’t like, and the person I like hasn’t-“ You cut yourself off, a blush on your cheeks.

“The person you like?” the brunet grinned slyly. “You never told me you were crushing on someone.”

“It’s nothing,” you sighed. “He… He’d never be interested in me.”

Lance raised a brow, and you failed to catch the hopeful gleam in his eye. “He? Why not? Is he not into guys?”

“He is,” you countered, “I just don’t think he’s into me.”

Before Lance could question further, you spun on your heel and fled from the building. Any more questions and the Cuban would have figured out you were talking about him, and you couldn’t bear to face him when he pieced it together.

The night before prom, you were sitting in your room. A show you’d long since ceased paying attention to played on the TV, but your eyes were glued to your phone. You had been texting a couple of people about prom, letting them gush to you about how excited they were. You wished them the best of luck, and carefully changed the subject when they asked why you weren’t going. No one knew of your crush on Lance, so you didn’t have to deal with any pitying texts.

An Instagram notification popped up, and you quirked a brow. Lance had tagged you in yet another post. You almost didn’t want to check it, tired of trying to decipher his vague but intriguing hashtags.

Curiosity got the better of you, and you clicked on it. You nearly choked at the sight that met your eyes, not daring to believe it.

In the photo was Lance, his torso hidden behind a notebook that he held up to the camera. Written on the notebook was your name, along with, “Go to prom with me?”

You scrolled down to the caption, your free hand clasping over your mouth in disbelief.

This isnt quite how I intended to tell u, bestie, but ive been crushing on you 4ever. I know im a flirt but around u I just get so shy and flustered, and I cant think of a single pickup line. U deserve better than that anyway. @username will u go to prom with me?

#pleasesayyes #promnight #bestie #bestbud #boyfriendsmaybe?

Biting your lip to keep your grin from breaking your face, you tapped the comments section and typed out a reply.

You dork! I’ve been waiting forever for this! When I said I would only go with the guy I liked, I was talking about you. Of course I’ll go to prom with you!

When prom night arrived, many selfies were taken. During one, you stole a kiss, pleasantly surprising your brown-haired date. When he uploaded the photos to Instagram, he was back to his usual flirtatious self, but with one key difference in his captions.

You were no longer #bestbud. You were now referred to as #bestboyfriend.

#voltron #lance mcclain #lance mcclain x reader #reader insert #male reader

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adeelusionaldiary · 5 years ago

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One Shot: The Publicity Stunt

Her green eyes glanced down at the current source of her frustration, her iPhone. It was like staring down at the device would will him to respond to her plea of desperation. Instead it just said delivered. Maybe this was a sign that she should let go. After all, it’d been too many missed opportunities to talk. The constant games of phone tag. It was wearing on her because she missed the fuck outta him, plain and simple. All she wanted to do was bask in his presence but she couldn’t. Instead she caught glimpses of the happening of his life through the KINGdom Come hashtag on Instagram.

The tour looked amazing and she could tell a lot of thought went into it with all the small details. She wished she could have been present night after night to see what was happening, but after the whole fiasco of thinking they were pregnant and then it turned out to be negative Ryan thought it’d be best for them to have some space. Clearly Vander was doing it right, throwing himself into work along with the newest flavor of the month, Camilla DiBello better known as his opening act. It irked Ryan to no end because while everyone else was praising the girl for her sound and dance moves Ryan could only see the fact that she seemed like the ultimate groupie. There was no doubt in her mind that little girl would use this tour to develop a relationship with Vander, and it wouldn’t be the professional kind.

A huff escaped her lips as she threw her phone down. Fuck this sitting around being miserable shit. She was going to go out and have good time because damnit she deserved it. Walking over to the closet her eyes scoured the small space until she found exactly what she was looking for. She smiled as she held the see through dress up to her body. The same dress Evander had gifted her with that she swore she would wear just so he could take it off. Maybe another lucky guy would get the opportunity tonight and with that idea in mind, Ryan made sure to put her best effort into getting ready.

Heads turned as she made her way through the throng of bodies in the club. The DJ was playing the perfect music for her to find someone to grind up on. All she needed was a drink. Finding the bar, she ordered her signature cocktail, a Manhattan. While waiting she scoured her Instagram. The mini photoshoot she posted with the help of her Apple Watch -a birthday gift courtesy of Raven- was gaining traction, but the man of the hour still hadn’t liked it, not that necessarily expected him to. It was more likely he’d fly and snatch her ass up letting her know she was playing a very dangerous game. She locked the device as her drink was placed in front of her.

She took a much-needed sip of her Manhattan as she posted up at the bar. Eyes ran over her body from jealous women, and lustful men but she ignored it all as she finished one drink and downed another. With her third drink in hand, she made her way to the dance floor. Her hips moved in rhythm with the music before someone joined her. They may as well been fucking the way his hands roamed her bare body considering her bare breast and underwear were visible form the see through material of the dress. Several songs later she removed herself from the stranger or at least she tried to. He pulled her body into his whispering sweet nothings as he caressed her side. She giggled as her eyes scanned the club. Her lips fell into a scowl as she spotted the familiar blonde with her entourage. Maybe her name did have some bearing if she managed to make it into VIP without Evander Lynch nearby.

Excusing herself from the gentleman, who thought he had a chance, she strutted across the room making her way to the VIP area that was sectioned off. The blonde noticed her, causing a smirk to cross her lips as she made her way to the bouncer, making sure to keep the separation between the two.

“Look what the cat dragged in?” The voice sounded like nails on a chalkboard and Ryan had to bite her tongue to not retort.

“Listen, we need to talk.”

“We,” the blonde said pointing her perfectly manicured finger between the duo “Don’t need to do shit.”

Ryan chuckled. “But I think we do. I promise I’ll even share some tips so you can keep our man next time.”

A smirk sat on her face as Vanessa glared at her.

“You come over here dressed like the whore you are trying to be cute. Bitch get lost.” Vanessa said, eyeing Ryan’s body with disgust.

“Aww.” Ryan cooed. “Admit that it bothers the fuck outta you no matter how many times you hop on and off the surgery table you can never look like this! Titties that actually stand up and not because they’re filled with implants. Can’t forget the natural ass that I can move and our man loves. I mean Vander picked this one out himself.” Ryan spoke rubbing her hands down her sides for emphasis. “Oh, and do me a favor please remember where those bitches got you last time.” Ryan warned.  “Yeah, he loves you so much that’s why your ass is standing here, outside my VIP section seeking attention. I already told you, you’re a nobody.”

“And somehow I’ve still managed to get your attention.”

“Keep her away from me.” Vanessa spoke to the bouncer, ready to dismiss Ryan and enjoy the rest of her night.

“I just wanna talk.” Ryan spazzed, making Vanessa raise her arched brows, before shaking her head and walking off.

Ryan huffed, turning around storming off to the bar where she finished her last Manhattan. There was no doubt about it she was buzzed and even though Vanessa hadn’t originally been a part of the plan she was mad the girl was icing her because the blonde was probably the only person who could relate to her at the moment.

Just as she got ready to close her tab at the bar a body pressed behind her but there was no hint of familiarity, causing her to whip her head around to find the man from earlier.

“So you just left me back there earlier.”

“Yeah, I’m ready to go home.”

“Without me?” He asked and Ryan fought the urge to roll her eyes. Tired ass line from the the guy who couldn’t take the hint. Placing her hands on his chest she tried to create some space between their bodies but he wouldn’t let up. Instead he placed his lips by her ears.

“You know ma, those titties look amazing I’d love to show you what I can do with them.”

She got ready to tell him off, where exactly he could fuck off at but another voice chimed in.

“Hey. back off perv.” There was blondie scooping in and saving the day. She pushed her way through forcing him to back up from Ryan’s personal space.

“I’ve been looking for you. Let’s go.” She took Ryan’s hand and brought her back to VIP this time granting her access as the bouncer let them through.

Ryan took a seat and looked to Vanessa. “Thanks.”

“Don’t mention it.” The blonde said flipping her tresses and Ryan wasn’t able to decipher if she really meant it.

“I miss him.” Ryan blurted.

Vanessa look at Ryan before her phone made its way in front of them with the flash as Vanessa guided the device showing off their outfits.

“Two bad bitches.” Vanessa screamed into the phone as Ryan began dancing to the music causing Vanessa to let out an ‘ayeee’ as she tapped Ryan’s ass. She posted the video to her Instagram before turning to Ryan.

“You’re a bad bitch you better not be worried about Vander’s ass.”

“No ones worried about him.” Ryan slurred. “I could have any guy in here but my stupid ass want him.”

Vanessa laughed loudly causing Ryan’s to screw up her face in confusion.

“It’s not funny. We almost had a baby and now look at us.” Vanessa expression grew stoic before she straightened up. She turned to one of her minions and whispered something before turning back to Ryan.

“You didn’t come here to be a sad betty. I’ll send your ass back to the bar.”

“No!” Ryan spoke. “I need your help. Didn’t you miss him? How do I get over him? I just wanna get him off my mind.”

In her drunken state Ryan didn’t even realize one of Vanessa’s minions recording in the background. Instead she running her mouth to the enemy in hope of finding common ground.

“You know how Vander is. All he does is play with people emotions. Your time is done. Time to build a bridge and get over it.”

“Why are you lying on him? He cares about me.” The sentence probably didn’t even sound coherent in her drunken and now angered state. “You play with peoples emotions, that’s why you won’t help me. You want me to be sad when all I wanna do is be happy. I just wanna be his friend.”

“Get up.” Vanessa spoke as she pulled Ryan from her seat. She squeezed Ryans face. “Get your shit together. No more Vander talk. When I’m done with you, you won’t even remember his name. We get over him, by drinking so throw this shit back. She said handing her a shot.

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