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tinydeskwriter · 2 years ago

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Traitor: Who’s in My Bathroom

singer!reader

PART ONE

summary: just a little extra till part two. or, Y/n gets interviewed on her Grammy, her new record breaking EP, the end of her relationship with British Heartthrob Harry Styles, cheating, and her surprising pregnancy.

word count: 2769

warning: angsty.

A/n: There is a especial participation by Hailey Bieber—because I love her—, Niall Horan, Zayn Malik, Dua Lipa, Gigi, Bella and Anwar Hadid are mentioned, Harry, Olivia and Jason too. This will kinda of put some light in how the break up happened, it’s Y/n version of what went down. On another note: you guys are giving me some amazing suggestions on who should be her next man, Michael B Jordan was a nice surprise, Chris Evans I kinda of imagined, Jack Harlow I wasn’t expecting, those three have been the most suggested and it's kind of even, I would like to throw in the mix Mark Ronson just because I find him pretty cute, he’s another known nice guy, and he’s in the music industry. et me know your favorite, and whoever shows up more is going to be the proud new man of a very gorgeous very talented Pop Icon.

Traitor Extra: Who’s in My Bathroom

“I think a lot of people probably want to know how we became friends.” Hailey said, they were making ice cream cookie sandwiches, all because Y/n had commented in their group chat that it was one of her biggest cravings during her pregnancy.

The singer was in a light blue linen top and long flow skirt ensemble with floral embroidery by Australian brand Fillyboo, a part of her pregnant belly adorably showing, her long hair in a braided crown and almost no makeup. She was impeccably beautiful with a maternal glow.

She was officially back in LA, and all the tabloids were reporting how she had bought a $20 million house in Chatsworth that formerly belonged to Frank Sinatra as her new home. 14 acres, two swimming pools and a sports court, with complete privacy and security, perfect for the Pop Icon to raise her baby in American territory. Of course, that was after reports that the 24 years old woman had bought a new £8 million home in London, close to Hyde Park.

“We met…it was through Gigi, and I met Gigi through Z, was it 2015? 2016?” Y/n looked at her friend, unsure of the right date. “It was right after the band went into a hiatus, and the guys started solo careers, I had just wrapped up my first world tour as a headliner, and we started spending more time in the States.”

At the time, she and Taylor Swift weren't really potential friends.

Y/n had met the singer around the time the older woman was dating Harry in 2012, and she and Harry started dating not long after Harry broke up with Taylor in 2013. It was safe to say that Y/n/n wasn't exactly welcome on the TS Squad.

Gigi ended up introducing her to her other friends, Hailey, Kendall, Kylie, and younger sister Bella, and they kind of became a group, with Hailey and Y/n naturally bonded over being the only ones not part of a sisterly duo.

“Gigi introduced you to the group...” Hailey nodded.

“We got really close because, well, Gigi always had Bella, Kendall had Kylie, we were the unpaired ones, and we kind of just started calling each other to hang out when we are in the same city.” Y/n commented with a smile, the sandwiches were ready. “This looks so good, you know this video is going to be just me eating, right?” The singer said.

Hailey laughed, lifting one of hers.

“Let's see if this tastes as good as it looks, cheers.” They smacked their ice cream sandwiches together as if it were a drink before taking their first bite.

Y/n moaned closing her eyes, making the blonde model laugh harder.

“That’s divine.” She looked at her friend. “I need to know where you bought this cookie.”

“As you are a very special guest, I made it myself.” Hailey said. “I’ll give you the recipe later.”

“I love you.” The singer said seriously, making her friend laugh.

They ate a whole ice cream sandwich for the cameras before Hailey went back to asking the questions.

“Recently there was the Grammy Awards.” The model said, eyeing her friend with a smile. “You took home five awards, being the most awarded artist of the night... how many Grammys do you have now, fifteen?”

Y/n had to contain the eye roll while Hailey contained the smile, Justin Bieber's wife knew exactly how many Grammys her friend had. How many times had they played around with the awards on drunken nights at the singer's house? Kendall and Hailey always came up with creative acceptance speeches that made the rest of the guests laugh themselves off the couch—Gigi had fallen off a high stool on one occasion—.

“Seventeen.” Y/n corrected with a small smile.

“And you also performed three new songs, Burned LA Down, Traitor and Good Enough, which are part of your EP Y/n Y/l/n Heartbreak Edition, Traitor became the most streamed song in the first 24 hours of release in Spotify's history... Which is really impressive, congratulations babe,” Hailey looked at her intensely, everything they were talking about had been discussed in advance. “The EP has a rather...melancholy theme.”

This time Y/n couldn't contain the eye roll at Hailey's subtleties, she had a smile on her face, which she knew wouldn't last long as they progressed with the subject. They were getting to the point where they needed to be. Y/n would not only talk about her successful EP, but also open up about the end of her relationship with Harry Styles. And she'd chosen Hailey, because she knew her friend would be empathetic, and stand by her corner, unlike everyone else who wanted an exclusive at the break up of the year —and boy, was Lia getting calls, radio hosts, tv hosts, even tell-all book deals—.

“We can be honest, the EP is about being cheated and left for someone else, and all the emotions and thoughts that come with that. Is pretty sad.” Y/n said with a small smile. “Some people talk bad about their ex on the internet, others write books, I'm a musician, I turned this painful experience into songs, I was surprised how fast the process was, it was therapeutic, I cried more than ever, everything was still very fresh in my memory.” She took a sip of the iced tea Hailey’s assistant brought her. “The ‘subject’ of those songs he’s not someone I was still getting to know when all that happened, it wasn't a brand new relationship, we've been together for nine years, we were engaged, we were renovating a house in London, we had plans to get married in 2022, we were trying to get pregnant.” The singer pointed to her growing belly.

“Did you suspect?”

“That he got into a affair with his much older director?” she asked with raised eyebrows, it was a rhetorical question, she knew exactly what Hailey was referring to. “No, I had no idea, we always planned our projects so that our schedules would fit around each other, Elvis was supposed to be filmed at the beginning of the year, but because of Covid, the filming was pushed to the end of 2020, he actually went with me to Australia, initially he was supposed to stay there with me until filming of My Policeman started in England this year, but then he joined this new movie project in September, because the original actor casted was fired, we were actively trying to make a baby, we talked about it, so it's safe to say the relationship wasn't on the rocks.” She made fun of what some blog ‘defending’ Holivia wrote. “He visited me in November, everything normal, nothing suspicious, nothing strange, we even talked about the plans for the wedding, my wedding gown was being designed by our friend, Alessandro Michele, that is the level of clueless about what was happening I was.” She gestured with her hands, a nervous habit. “It was a mutual friend of ours who first commented on their proximity, nothing even crossed my mind, I trusted him blindly, this is the man I am going to marry, I told this friend, I even defended her, can you imagine it? I went to dinner with her and her fiancé, I met her kids. I couldn't conceive of the idea that the two of them could be getting involved, emotionally, sexually or whatever…”

Harry and she had been having sex for the entire duration of her visit, no red flags had even hinted at what was to come. No text messages or calls at odd hours, no change in behavior, for all intents and purposes, he was still the guy who'd loved her since he was eighteen.

“When did you become suspicious?” Hailey questioned, because she already knew the story, she knew what was to come, and things only got worse.

“Her ex actually texted me by the end of November, she ended their more than a decade long relationship apparently out of the blue, and he was pretty sure something was happening between the two of them, and that's when I decided to talk with H, it was a video-call, and he completely dismissed the story.” She said with a bitter smile. “I already suspected I could be pregnant at the time, and this was the kind of news that is best given in person, silly me wanted him to be by my side when I took the pregnancy test, and a really small part of me was suspicious and wanted to see for myself what was going on.” Y/n controlled her own emotion by taking another sip of his tea. “What an idiot right? I wanted to surprise my fiancé but I was the one who got surprised.”

She could still vividly remember that day whenever she closed her eyes. She'd arrived in Los Angeles discreetly, James had given her spare keys to his Palm Springs house, and agreed to keep her arrival a surprise, he'd even commented that they should arrange to have dinner while she was in the country.

Hailey squeezed her friend's hand on the table in support.

“I got the key to the house he was staying in, it was another mutual friend of ours house in Palm Springs, we were engaged, we shared more than four houses, it was supposed to be a nice surprise, why wouldn't I get the key to the house he was staying, right?”

“Did you catch them both in the act?” the model asked wide-eyed.

She'd never heard the story in so many details before, and it was the first time Y/n herself was opening up to her, she'd learned everything from Gigi and Bella, not wanting to press the pregnant woman — of course, they had Y/n's permission, so she didn't have to go on telling friend to friend what had happened—.

Y/n laughed lightly at her friend's expression.

“Not in the act, I didn’t caught them fucking, but she was there, it was too early to be a social visit, and she was only dressed in one of his shirts, I think you can imagine what they probably were doing before.” The singer shuddered just remembering the scene. “The best part? It was a DIY shirt I had sewn for him during quarantine...”

Hailey stared at her with her mouth open and eyebrows raised. “What a bastard! I’am sorry, but he is, and she is worthless… You know what? They both are garbage, stinking garbage.” She said the second part to the camera, Y/n almost laughed at how her friend—one of the sweetest and kindest people she knew—was so outraged for her that she called her ex and his current girlfriend ‘stinking garbage’. “What happened then?”

“She left, we talked, more like he spoke and I stood there without a reaction, I didn't know what to say, my entire world collapsed at that moment.” She said with teary eyes. “There was the guy I'd been with since I was sixteen, my first everything, my first kiss, my first boyfriend, my first sex, my best friend and the person I thought I'd marry, we had a life together, nine years when you're still in your mid-twenties is a long time, especially for this industry standard.” She took a moment to breathe. “And he’s saying a lot of things, and the only thing I can understand is that that's the end of our relationship, he wants to try new things, explore this new feeling, and in my head the only thing that translates is: you're not good enough for him.” Y/n accepted a tissue and dried the stubborn tears. “Two days later he was with her, they were a couple, officially dating, the same friend who first told me about them getting close called to tell me.” She learned that they were officially together because Glenne, not wanting her to be caught off guard when the news got out, informed her. “How can you claim to love someone and move on so fast? Cross that, he moved on when we were still together.”

The other woman shook her head in disapproval as some camera crew assistants dried their faces. It was difficult to exist and never have read an article about Harry Styles and Y/n Y/l/n, the it couple of the music industry, the British Heartthrob and the British Songbird.

“Did you tell him you thought you were pregnant?” Hailey asked, their hands still connected.

“At what point? After I had already being dismissed like old news? I left without looking back, I just wanted to cry for my broken heart and the death of my happiness in privacy.” Y/n boarded the first helicopter out of Palm Springs and back to Los Angeles.

“When did you confirm the pregnancy?”

“The day after he went public with her at his manager wedding, I was staying with the Hadid’s in Pennsylvania, I left LA and went straight to Zayn and Gigi, it got to the point that I could no longer ignore the very real possibility that I might be pregnant, I was positively panicking, I don’t have a family, so I would be completely alone if wasn’t for them, Zayn got in touch with Niall, they are both by my side when Gigi's midwife confirmed it and did my first ultrasound.” Y/n dried her face and tried to smile. “It was the most emotional and also the saddest moment of my life, naively I aways thought that I would have the love of my life by my side when I found out I am pregnant with our babies.”

“Have you tried to contact him after?” Hailey asked, even her eyes are watery by this point, the two were ignoring the cameras, just talking like they would if they were catching up.

“I tried calling once, as he wouldn’t reply my texts.” She said. “Niall insisted, but he was extremely cold, he spoke to me as if he had never loved me, as if I was nothing to him. He literally said we'd better keep in touch through our lawyers to sort it all out, he was pretty much talking only about the material stuff, because 'she' wasn't comfortable with the two of us keeping touch.” Y/n wiped away some insistent tears. “I didn't even recognize him, I was like, have I been drunk, have I been blind our entire relationship? This isn't the sweet guy I fell for. All kinds of thoughts and scenarios go throughs your head in a situation like that, especially when you are a overthinking: What if he rejected my babies? What if they weren't good enough, like I wasn’t? What if he got tired of them, like he got tired of me? What if he had other children in the future, and mine were never a priority of his? We see that all the time in society, and I didn't want to force my kids into that kind of heartbreak, It's better not to have a father than be constantly disappointed, and honestly, the person who broke up with me is not someone I want around my children, and let alone that woman.”

Y/n chuckled lightly as she remembered when she first met Olivia, then with Jason, when the entire cast went out to dinner at a nice restaurant on Sunset.

“Do you want to hear something positively hilarious?” She asked, Hailey just looked at her, a tiny smile. “When I first met her, during a visit to LA, we all went out to dinner, the whole cast, her fiancé was together, and we chatted most of the night, he's an amazing guy, Chris Pine too, so smart and funny, and when we'd got home, H... he was dying of jealousy because I confessed that growing up I had this massive crush on both Jason Sudeikis and Chris Pine.” The singer gave a sarcastic laugh. “He was jealous of a teenage crush, while he was probably already cheating on me with her.”

Hailey rolled her eyes.

“The male ego is toxic.”

“Do not tell me.”

“Changing the subject a little.” Hailey said with a smile. “You always use plural when mentioning your baby, this is a way of not giving away the gender, or...”

Y/n smiled genuinely big.

“I’am having twins.” She laughed as Hailey gave a squeal of joy and hugged her friend. “So far I think only Z, Ni, Gigi and Bells knew...I lie, Anwar and Dua too, they were there when Ni found out about it, and girl...that Irishman is scandalous.”

#harry styles imagine #harry styles imagines #harry styles angst

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fernweh-writes · 3 years ago

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Hey, it’s me again :3

My birthday is soon(next week on the Friday)

So I wondered if you could write headcanons for the Slasher with an Birthday S/O.

Like what would they give her, what would they do on her birthday. You probably get what I mean.

But only if it’s alright and you got time, if not it’s also fine^^

I already say thank you :3💕💕(btw I really love your writing <3)

HAPPY BIRTHDAY LOVE, I HOPE YOU HAVE AN AMAZING DAY!! I did see the other little tidbit you sent in and yes, ofc, anything for you. Especially since it’s your birthday and you asked so nicely<3

(Going ahead and posting this a lil early… i think? I can’t remember when you sent this in sorry :/)

-Fern🌿

Slashers on their S/O’s Birthday

Warnings: NSFW content, 18+

Michael Myers

Michael has always been pretty indifferent towards birthdays. So what, you’re getting older big whoop. He doesn’t see them as important and doesn’t understand the point of celebrating them.

However, as you keep mentioning to him that your birthday is coming up, he gets the hint. Michael isn’t stupid and he knows you well enough to be able to tell what you want.

Still, Michael isn’t going to throw you a party or decorate or anything like that. Instead he makes a statement just by spending the entire day with you.

During your time spent together you find out Michael did actually buy a cake for you. Although it was also partially for his own benefit as well seeing as he has a major sweet tooth. He even got “Happy Birthday y/n” written on the top in your favorite color. When you bite into it, you realize that it’s also your favorite flavor.

After the cake, Michael brings you a small box with a horribly tied ribbon wrapped around it. Don’t look at him funny, he tried okay. So what the gift inside was most likely stolen from a victims, you got a present that you loved. Isn’t that all that really matters?

Michael isn’t much of a giver in bed, he prefers to take. He mainly focuses on achieving his own end and whatever pleasure you get during that is what you get. But tonight he’ll make a point of not only making you finish first once, but numerous times throughout the night. Today is about you after all, why not try and set a new record in bed to mark the start of a new age.

Bo Sinclair

Morning sex, congratulations, this morning you become breakfast for Bo. No need to get up early to cook for him when he can simply devour you.

Surprise! He won’t be an ass to anyone for one whole day. Just for you darlin’. If some people happen to stumble into town, Bo won’t let anyone ruin your day, and quickly has Vincent take care of them. Even Lester will help out if need be, even though Les hates participating in the “family company”.

Sneaks away in the middle of the night to decorate the house. Luckily, Vincent pitches in and helps him make everything look nice. Bo goes all out with streamers, balloons, banners, he even got you a cake!

He’s more than eager to give you your presents as well. Of course he had to buy you a lingerie set, it’s a surprise that’ll help the two of you later that night…

Bo is a simple man, he just wants everyone to know that you belong to him. So he also got you a dainty little necklace of his name. Sure it may be cute to you, but secretly he’s laying his claim to you.

Usually he’s busy with keeping up the town but just this once he spends the entire day with you. Bo spending so much quality time with you doing whatever you want really says a lot.

He may even take you to the next town over for a nice dinner. After all, no one should have to cook on their own birthday and it’ll make good use of the cute little sundress he got you and gives you the opportunity to dress up. You better wear the lingerie he got you under it though. Good luck making it to the bedroom when the two of you get back from the restaurant.

Vincent Sinclair

You’re not sure who is more excited, him or you. Vincent makes sure that you have the best time ever and makes the whole day about you. It’s the perfect chance for him to spend the whole day with you and show you how much he loves you.

When you wake up he’ll be missing. He woke up early to make you your favorite breakfast. He had hoped to bring it to you in bed but sadly you’ve always been the early riser. Luckily for you, unlike Bo, Vincent is a good cook. How do you think the three boys survived before you showed up?

Vincent has always been a more private person so while there’s not any decorations all over the house and he can’t take you out to a fancy dinner you can still expect plenty of sweet surprises. He made you a bouquet of wildflowers that he picked, got you the new books you had been telling him you wanted, managed to snag one of the vinyls for the new album your favorite artist had recently released, and even got you some new outfits that he thought would look cute on you.

Vincent would be the one to put on music and dance around the living room with you. He enjoys personal time with you and uses the day to really express to you just how much he cares for you.

At the end of the day he runs you a hot bath. While you soak in the tub he throws around the rose petals and gets the ribbons and candles ready. Before you have time to get dressed Vincent will be scooping you up, tossing you on the bed, and tying you up. Be ready for a long night!

Thomas Hewitt

There’s not really much he can do for you seeing as the town is running low on supplies. Still, he’ll do his best to still make your birthday special for you. Mainly he’s just going to kick Hoyt and Monty out for the day so that you can have one peaceful day together. Luda gets to stay seeing as she’s also happy to celebrate with you.

Thomas lets Luda Mae know he wants to surprise you with something. So while he works on the surprise she’ll make sure to keep you occupied. Luda Mae will fix your hair for you and go ahead and give you the gift that she had made you, a sundress made from floral print fabric. She’s so happy her son found someone, especially someone as beautiful as you.

Thomas will have handmade you a small necklace. Since you didn’t tell him about your birthday until shortly before the day, you left him with little time to make it. He’s lucky that your comfortable with Luda Mae and he can get her to keep you distracted,

When Tommy sees you with the dress his momma made you and your hair fixed up he almost forgets about the small piece of jewelry in his pocket.

After hearing you squeal with delight when you open his gift he’s ecstatic! He loves nothing more than making you happy. when you eagerly get him to help you put it on he thinks he’s going to spontaneously combust with his love for you.

Luda Mae will bake you a cake. You’re basically her daughter in law at this point and she’s going to make sure that you have a good day. She enjoys having another woman in the house and enjoys seeing you and Thomas happy together. You’ve given her the complete family that she’s always wanted.

Brahms Heelshire

Brahms is very good at being sneaky. At this point, Malcolm already knows that Brahms is a real person. So Brahms has no issue with getting Malcolm to bring him everything he needs and giving him the extra money for the week. He makes sure to cover all the bases, he got you presents, a small cake, and of course stuff to decorate the living room.

The decorations in the living room aren’t necessarily the best. Brahms hasn’t been responsible for doing anything like this in his whole life. But he still does his best to try and impress you and make you happy. Just don’t expect for his best to be very good. After all, it is the thought that counts.

Honestly Brahms not being self centered for once should be enough of a surprise. It’s your birthday so he’ll make sure to be on his best behavior just for you! No tantrums or arguing, he promises! He even makes sure to hide the schedule for the day to make sure you know that today you get to relax.

Of course, you’ll still have to cook since Brahms is only capable of making sandwiches. His peanut butter to jelly ratio may be perfect but that’s not exactly the type of meal he thinks you would want on your birthday. So he does make sure to get the ingredients for all of your favorite foods!

Your presents include expensive jewelry, pretty clothes, and of course lingerie although that’s more of a gift for Brahms than it is for you. He’ll have you model all of the dresses and clothes that he got you. The big finale is the lace bra and underwear that you won’t be wearing for much longer.

Brahms is a switch and usually ends up being the more submissive one in bed. Tonight however, he’ll co for a change of pace and be more dominant. For once, he was the one spoiling you instead of the other way around and that brings out the more mature and dominant side of him. Expect o be sore the next day though, Brahms isn’t exactly good with holding back.

Billy Loomis

Billy has a tendency to be narcissistic and obviously an ass. But he can also be great at hiding those traits. On your birthday he makes sure to do exactly that, really playing up the bad boy/boy next door front he’s capable of. Tatum did believe that he was practically perfect, and on your special day, he’ll do his best to do exactly that.

He may not have the same money as Stu, but he still manages to spoil you. You’ll have his full attention for the day and he let you decide almost everything. Billy even lets you pick out the movies that you watch together on your birthday, which is something he’s never allowed to happen before.

Seeing you be happy gives him a funny feeling that he’s not used to which can cause him to act a little awkward. You throw him off a little bit. He didn’t expect to care so much about someone until you fell into his lap. He’s a simp for you and he knows it. If he wasn’t then he wouldn’t be making reservations for that fancy restaurant you loved and buying you a new outfit just for said reservation. Yeah he’s down bad.

Makes sure that you order whatever you want, today cost doesn’t matter. But if he knows your favorite, he orders for you in an attempt to impress you. See, he remembers your favorite food, isn’t he just the best. Also gets your favorite over priced dessert even if you have to take it to go. He can’t bake and he knows that store bought cake just doesn’t compare to the fancy restaurants.

He bought you lingerie for under that cute little outfit and he expects to see it by the end of night. Expect to pinned against the front door before either of you has the chance to unlock it. Billy has been imagining you in nothing but your birthday suit all night and he simply cannot wait any longer.

There’s nothing he enjoys more than seeing you fall apart underneath him. He loves seeing you look absolutely cock drunk with your makeup smeared on your face. Your moans and begs eventually begin to melt together and you just become and incoherent mess as he makes you cum again and again. It’s still not enough for him though, he’s going to make you scream.

Stu Macher

He is very determined to make you have the best day over. Expect breakfast in bed! It may not be great but eat it anyways, Stu is not a morning person and he managed to drag his ass out of bed early just for you. So even if the scrambled eggs have the occasional crunch to them it’s best to just grin and bear it.

Is very determined to take you shopping. Expect for him to buy you anything that you touch or pick up. Like the amazing boyfriend he is he will also carry the many bags that you end up with. You’ll have a brand new wardrobe by the end of the day. Of course he made you pick out a few lingerie sets. He even pointed out the ones he liked and made you find your size.

Of course, Stu will still take you out to a fancy restaurant and do the whole traditional night out thing. After dinner though the two of you will end up on the roof of his house that he made sure to help you out on. Stu is secretly a hopeless romantic deep down and will spend time looking at the stars with you because he thinks it’s something that you would like. Will listen to you as you ramble on about planets and watch as you point out constellations if that’s something you do.

Stu is very clingy at all times so he will be hanging over you all day. That’s nothing really out of the ordinary though. But usually those touches include grabbing your boobs, smacking your ass, and rubbing your hips. On your birthday the touches turn more gentle. Expect him to gently tuck your hair behind your ear so he can see your face, gently caressing your cheek, rubbing your knuckles while he holds your hand, all soft and sweet gestures to convey he truly does care.

He’s usually very fast paced with everything including talking, movements, and of course that includes in bed. But tonight he’ll be slow and gentle, drawing everything out. Also makes sure to focus on your pleasure instead of his own for once.

Asa Emory

Asa never thought he would celebrate anyone’s birthday. He certainly never celebrated his own and doesn’t see the point in doing so. To him, birthdays are just another day and there’s no point in celebrating ageing. So he went about most of his life ignoring birthdays, until you came along.

Asa adored you and your enthusiasm for life and all the good things in the world. You were a bright person, especially when compared to him, and he loved the innocence about it. So when you began to mention your birthday coming up with excitement in your voice he knew that you had expectations for your special day.

He may not be a person who celebrates but he’ll be damned if he disappoints. You’re the one good thing life has given him and he’s not letting you get away from him. If that means getting you a small cupcake and sticking a candle in it and a present then so be it. He can manage doing a little something for you.

When he’s not in his collector persona he is much more awkward and an absolute dork in your eyes. So when he takes you out for a nice dinner you’ll notice his slightly off behavior. Asa doesn’t like crowded public spaces and you’ll be able to pick up on his fidgeting. Luckily your good at carrying the conversation for him.

Asa appreciates that you understand it’s hard for him. So when you begin to do most of the talking and don’t pressure him to contribute much to the conversation besides the occasional nod he’s able to relax.

On the way home he gets nervous once more. What if you hate the present he got for you or expected more. He had only gotten you one thing and it wasn’t much. But when you finally open it and you light up like a kid on Christmas morning he lets out a heavy sigh and finally relaxes. It was only a simple necklace but you acted like he had just handed you the stars.

Asa will be surprisingly gentle with you for one night. Of course, he’ll still tie you up and absolutely wreck you but he makes sure to leave out the cutting and biting out for once. The only bruises you have will be on your hips from his harsh grip. It’s the closest thing you’re going to get to love making from him, but you know him well enough to get the meaning behind it.

Jesse Cromeans

Anything you want and it’s yours, he can make anything happen for you. He makes sure to tie up any loose ends with his business well before your birthday so that nothing can interrupt his time spent with you. Of course he makes sure to spoil you even more than he normally does.

Would love to take you on some fancy vacation and stay in one of the finest hotels there. Go ahead, pick any place you want to travel to and he’ll make the arrangements. He makes sure that anywhere he takes you is more private and remote rather than tourist-y though. Both so that he feels more comfortable and so that you can feel special and not have to deal with crowds.

Does the whole flower petals on the bed, candles, flowers, ice bucket with champagne kind of ordeal back at the hotel. Did you really expect him not to though? He has the money to so why not and he knows that even though you claim it’s cheesy that you absolutely love it. Th blush on your face and look in your eyes give away your love of cheesy things and he pays attention to every little thing you do.

Of course you get new jewelry, designer clothes, and lingerie but you get other gifts as well. Pretty much anything you’ve mentioned to him recently he makes sure to get you. Rambling on about that new book your favorite author just released? It’s yours! Been needing new materials for any of your hobbies? You got them!

Expect rough sex. Jesse rarely does gentle and with how much smaller you are than him he can sometimes accidentally hurt you. Your just so small and fragile compared to him kitten, he can’t help it. Of course he always makes sure to take care of you afterwards with a hot bath and will gently massage the knots out of your muscles. Jesse always makes sure that you’re taken care of.

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auroracalisto · 4 years ago

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all the lost things

summary: the reader has always been close with Ms. Mead. growing up, she went to her neighbor for comfort, hiding from her abusive parents. but one day, she just disappears. when she comes back, michael is there, on a path to purify the world.

pairing: michael x reader

word count: 3.9k words

warnings: talks of the antichrist, religious undertones, abusive parents, physical abuse, reader ends up in hospital, reader is stabbed but nothing is said other than she was stabbed, cussing, blood, death, major character death (mead), follows the plotline in the show but not exactly

a/n: no notes, head empty. also word count could be 4k but it was like 90 words off and yeah

Ms. Mead was always there for [Your name]. No matter what had happened, no matter how her parents had treated her, Ms. Mead was there. Her parents would hurt her, tease her, ridicule her for her relationship with the renowned Satanist. They hated the fact that their little “angel” was friends with such a nasty type of woman—and even though they were hypocritical to the highest extent, they stood by that. She helped to patch her up on particularly bad days. Ms. Mead had offered time and time again for [Your name] to take a bed in her home, but [Your name] never accepted the offer. She already helped so much—she never wanted to burden her even more. Not to mention the fact that Ms. Mead hardly knew of everything that occurred. [Your name] quite often kept most of what happened to herself.

Ms. Mead was more of a parent to her more than her shitty birth parents. And when [Your name] went missing, she was understandably concerned. However, Michael had shown up. There wasn’t much she could do to find you, especially since you were never listed as missing with the local law enforcement, and the two of them (Ms. Mead and Michael) had yet to figure out just how far Michael’s powers would go, and how soon it would take for him to grow into them.

Ms. Mead waited anxiously for you to return, from wherever you had run off to. It was nearly two weeks after Michael had gotten there. Two weeks of Ms. Mead leading Michael around and showing him how to live—showing him what life was all about with the loving care of a Satanist mother.

On a sunny Tuesday afternoon, Michael sat at the dining room table, eating a ham and cheese sandwich. Ms. Mead was washing dishes, looking over at the boy as a knock sounded at the door.

“Do you mind getting that? I’ll be right there, I just have a few more to do.”

Michael gave a small nod, and he sat his sandwich down before he stood and walked over to the front door. He opened it without wasting a second, seeing a battered woman standing there. He furrowed his eyebrows at the woman, looking at her arm slung in a cast and her bruised eye and split lip. She uncomfortably shifted on her leg—while she didn’t have anything on it, it was obvious that she had hurt it. If she were to bend down, surely her abdomen would kill her.

“Is… is Miriam here?” she asked.

“Who are you?”

The black-haired woman showed up behind Michael. Her eyes went wide. “[Your name]?” She quickly moved to hug her. [Your name] flinched but she hugged back, carefully using her other arm to pat her back.

Michael could see the healing bruises that littered her arms. “Where the hell have you been, girl?” she asked, looking at her in disbelief. “What happened to you?”

She took her free hand and turned to look at Michael. “Shut and lock the door behind us. Can you get her a change of clothes? Just sweatpants and a shirt. Hurry.”

Michael blinked slowly but did as he was told.

Ms. Mead lead [Your name] into the dining room, sitting her down. She brushed some of the hair out of her face back as she sat across from her.

“I looked for you, but I couldn’t find anything. Where were you? Did you lose your phone? What happened to the one I gave you for emergencies?”

[Your name]’s beautiful eyes couldn’t meet hers. She shifted in her seat, taking in a sharp breath when her stomach slightly rubbed against the table she was seated at. The last time Miriam had interrogated her like this was when she had accidentally broken her sofa and not said anything—and that was nearly seven years ago.

“Uh,” she closed her eyes.

“I got them,” Michael interrupted. Of course, he didn’t know he had. He brought the clothes over and sat them beside Ms. Mead before he sat back down at his sandwich. He attempted to ignore them but found himself listening to their conversation anyway.

“He found it.”

Miriam’s eyes widened. “What?”

[Your name] just shrugged, wincing as she did that. “Yeah. He found my emergency phone. And then, he found my go back. I… I had it packed. I was ready to leave, Miriam,” she said, leaning back against her seat. “I was ready to leave and come here,” [Your name] weakly smiled. “Guess that didn’t happen.”

“Wait, wait, what does all this have—” Miriam stopped herself. “What did your father do to you?” she softly asked, her warm hand going over the top of [Your name]’s.

“He beat me until I was unconscious, and then I guess he and my mom dropped me off at the hospital. I didn’t have anything on me. My ID is gone, I don’t have my phone. Everything was stripped off of me save for my clothes. They said I had gone into a coma, but like… they also had to do an emergency surgery because I had been stabbed.”

“He stabbed you?” Miriam felt her face burn with rage. She couldn’t believe this. She knew [Your name]’s parents were shit, but she never believed they would do anything like that.

She gave a small nod. “They’re gonna have to bill me somehow. I… I might have given them a fake name when I came to. Let’s see if they can. That’s also… probably why you couldn’t find me,” she weakly smiled.

“What did you use?”

“Lucy Moore.”

Miriam rolled her eyes. “Of course, you did. I wondered why that sounded so familiar. I saw it in the newspaper but didn’t think much about it. Damn. You’ve used that since you were a child,” she huffed softly. “You’ve been there for nearly two weeks, [Your name]. Are you okay?”

[Your name] shrugged. “I’m as good as I can be, Miriam. There’s not much to be said.”

Michael hadn’t touched his food. He stared at the [color] haired woman for the longest time before he spoke up.

“Why are you here?” he asked. “You’re not home?”

Miriam looked over at the boy with a frown. “Michael.”

“No, he’s got a point,” [Your name] sighed. “I can’t go back. Not because of this. But… Miriam, they’re gone. They’ve completely moved out. Left and everything. The house is on the market. Saw the sign when I was walking by.”

“You walked all the way here?” Michael asked, his eyebrows furrowed. “From the hospital?”

“Took me about an hour, but yeah,” [Your name] said.

The resilience she had made Michael’s heart skip a beat. But perhaps that was also from the immense anger building up in the pit of his stomach for two people that he had never met. Michael clenched his fists under the table, looking towards his half-eaten sandwich with a type of malice that would burn a human.

His sandwich lit on fire—the bread and meat and cheese immediately being consumed by reds, oranges, and yellows.

[Your name]’s eyes widened, and she quickly turned to face him, despite the burning pain she felt from doing so.

Miriam watched with wide eyes, a smile growing on her lips. When the fire had completely gone out, as it was only contained to his food, she grinned at him. “This is Michael, my dear,” Miriam said. “He’s been staying with me since you disappeared.”

“How—how did he—”

“—he’s the Antichrist, dear.”

Well, there was no hiding that. Michael quickly looked up at Miriam, surprised that she told [Your name] so quickly.

[Your name] furrowed her eyebrows in confusion, before she gave a small nod. “Right, so, you—you made that fire all on your own?” she asked.

When Michael nodded, [Your name] turned to face Ms. Mead.

“Can I take a shower?” she asked.

Michael blinked a couple of times. The woman wasn’t afraid of him—that struck him as odd. She had just been dropped with the news that would bring the end of times—and yet, she just asked his adoptive mom if she could take a shower.

Who was she?

Miriam nodded. “We’ve got to cover up your cast. Can’t risk it getting wet,” she said, going to find some plastic wrap in the kitchen.

Michael stared the injured woman down for a moment. “You’re not afraid?”

She looked over at him with a frown. “Why would I be? After everything I’ve been through,” she said, sucking in a breath as she slowly got to her feet. “Seeing my parents burn would be the best thing since I found Ms. Mead. Seems like she just keeps collecting lost things, huh?”

[Your name] smiled towards him, and he returned it, albeit shyly.

Despite the wounds on her face, Michael thought she was beautiful. To [Your name], the man was just beautiful.

She knew all the stories about the Antichrist. Her parents used to spew Revelations at dinner like it was just normal gossip.

He would be beautiful, have immense powers (even though she was unaware he was still trying to get his powers under control, as his Antichrist nature had just been awoken not too long ago), and in everything that came from what her parents said, she remembered one and thought about it more often than the others: he would be perfect.

Michael was perfect.

Miriam came back with a yellow box of plastic wrap. She began to open it up.

“Will you be okay showering by yourself? Can you take your clothes off by yourself?”

“I’ll be fine,” she said, waving the woman off. Miriam just smiled and began to wrap her cast.

“While you do that, I’m going to run to the store and buy some actual clothes for you. You have some here, but not a lot. Don’t worry,” she said, finishing up the multiple layers of plastic wrap. “I still remember your size. And your favorite scent is…?”

When she told her, Miriam smiled.

“Good. I’ll get some things with that as well. Oh, my [Your name], it’s so good to see your face again,” the woman said. “I’ll be back. Michael, stay home. I’ll just be a few minutes.”

When Miriam left, [Your name] went to shower. Michael didn’t know what to do, so he went to his bedroom, reading a book that Miriam had stocked on his bookshelf. Of course, he didn’t realize it was the Satanist Bible until after he started reading it. However, he was completely distracted by it and was only brought out of his intense reading session when he heard loud cursing coming from the bathroom.

Michael frowned a bit and marked his page with a piece of scrap paper from his desk. He quickly got up and went to the bathroom, knocking on the door.

“Are you okay?” he asked.

“Uh,” [Your name] began, trying her best not to sound like she was in pain. “I—yeah, yeah, I’m fine.” Her voice shook as she tried to get up. She had fallen in the shower. The stitches in her side hurt like a bitch, and the pain she had in her leg would stay for a while—her doctor had told her it was a pretty bad sprain, but that it would heal eventually. And with only one hand available to get herself up, she was stuck at the bottom of the tub.

“You don’t sound fine…”

[Your name] clenched her jaw and took in a deep breath. “Could you—I… I need help. I fell,” she said.

Michael immediately went to open the door.

“Wait!”

Michael stopped in his tracks.

“You can’t look at me. Keep your eyes closed. Please.”

[Your name] wasn’t scared at the fact that he would see her naked—she was more scared of the fact that he would see how damaged her body was. She should have been more scared of her naked body—in all reality, she had just met him.

Michael opened the door, making sure that she saw his eyes were closed. He walked into the bathroom and quite literally ran into the toilet.

“I—take like two steps to the left—”

Michael did as he was told.

“Wait, no, I’m sorry, it’s your right—” she stopped herself and squeezed her eyes shut. “Just… Just open your eyes. It’ll be easier.”

“Are you sure?” Michael asked. His voice was soft, like buttercream on a birthday cake.

“Yeah, I’m sure.”

Michael opened his blue eyes. He locked eyes with [Your name] and his expression softened. It was the look at [Your name] hated more than anything.

The look of pity when people realized why she was always hurt. He had the same expression. Michael walked over to her and turned the steaming water off. He carefully hooked his arms underneath hers and got her to her feet.

“Did you already shower?” he asked.

She shook her head. “No.”

“Alright,” he looked down at her. He avoided looking at her body. He made sure to keep his eyes on hers. “I’ll—I’ll be right in the other room if you need me, okay?”

When [Your name] nodded, Michael turned the water back on for her and left the bathroom. It didn’t happen again, but Michael sat on the edge of his bed, listening for anything.

He was stiff, and he was barely breathing as he listened for the woman to hurt herself again. When the water shut off, this time by [Your name]’s hand and not his own, he finally took in a much-deserved breath. He closed his eyes, laying back on his bed. He was so worried for the woman that he hadn’t even heard the front door shut. When he heard Ms. Mead’s voice, he shot up from his bed and ran downstairs to help her.

He took each of the bags from the older woman.

“Take these to the guest room, okay? The one with the white bed.”

Michael nodded and rushed off, with five bags of things she would need on one arm and six on the other.

[Your name] came out of the bathroom with the clothes on that Michael had grabbed earlier, her free hand drying her hair the best she could.

Michael sat everything on the bed and came back out of the room, seeing her.

His eyes widened. “I can do that for you—”

“I… I got it,” [Your name] mumbled, her cheeks burning at the thought that he would look at her like he did before. She looked over at him, and she nearly stopped drying her hair. She couldn’t describe his expression—but it wasn’t like it was before.

Michael crossed his arms over his chest. “Your room. It’s this one,” he pointed to the door behind him.

“Thank you,” she said, walking towards it.

Michael grabbed her by her elbow, looking right at her. “Let me do your hair.”

Her eyes widened. “What—”

“—let me do your hair. I want to help you.”

Throughout all of her thoughts, one stuck out the most: why was the Antichrist being so kind to her?

Michael didn’t wait for her to answer, leading her back into the bedroom. He began to search through the plastic bags, eventually finding the items Ms. Mead bought for her hair. He forced [Your name] to sit down on the edge of the bed and Michael got behind her. He finished towel drying her hair and then proceeded to use what Ms. Mead had bought, with the instructions that [Your name] was given him. He had never even tried to fix anyone else’s hair before—he had only taken care of his own. It gave him a sense of pride to know that [Your name] hadn’t denied his help, this time.

[]

Days turned into weeks. Weeks turned into months.

Eventually, Michael and [Your name] were quite close—much to Miriam’s excitement.

Although she never said anything, she quite liked the idea of them being so close. It made her confident heart soar with happiness at the thought that the two people she cared for most in the world were just as close to each other as they were to her.

Despite their closeness, however, Michael disappeared after being taken to jail.

He hadn’t been able to contact [Your name] until about a week after being gone.

“Hello?” [Your name] spoke into the telephone, confused. She didn’t know the number that had called.

“[Your name],” Michael said. He closed his eyes, melting at the sound of her voice.

“Michael?” [Your name] quickly sat up, alert. “What the hell, Michael? Where are you? Are you okay? Wh—”

“—I’m alright,” he chuckled softly. “Things have kind of… happened. I’m at a school for Warlocks. I’m ‘honing’ my magic. That’s what they said, anyway,” he spoke, leaning against the wall behind him as he talked on the phone. “[Your name], they want me to be the next Supreme.”

“I… would be super excited for you, if I would know what the fuck that is,” she scoffed. “Michael, seriously. What’s going on?”

Michael chuckled at her comment. “I’m safe. I promise you. But this is how I do my job. As the… well, you know.”

“Yeah, yeah. But what—”

“—listen, I have to go. I have to get back to class. But I’ll call you. Please know that I’m safe. It was so good to hear your voice, [Your name]. Make sure Ms. Mead knows that I’ll get in contact with both of you soon.”

Michael hung up the phone.

What [Your name] didn’t know was that Michael had already been in contact with Ms. Mead. And the two were conspiring against the Warlocks to make it easier for Michael to reach the title of Supreme, and therefore, bring around the end of the world.

[]

Another week passed without a word from Michael.

[Your name] was more nervous than words could put together. Although the two were just close friends, she quite missed his absence. She was starting to believe she wanted to be much more than friends, but she would never say anything about it.

[Your name] sat at the dining room table, wondering where the hell Ms. Mead was.

She had been gone since early morning.

She heard the front door shut and had come downstairs to see what was going on—Ms. Mead was nowhere in sight, and she hadn’t left any sort of note.

It was nearing noon when the house phone began to ring.

[Your name] sighed, figuring it was Miriam. She got up and walked over to the phone, answering it.

“Hello?”

“[Your name],” Michael’s voice came through the speaker. “They’ve killed her.”

[Your name] paused for a moment. She sucked in a breath through her teeth, sitting back down at the dining room table. “What are you talking about?”

“The witches. They killed her. They killed Ms. Mead.”

Only now did [Your name] hear Michael’s sobs. He must have moved the phone away from his head moments before, preventing her from hearing it.

A feeling of dread pooled into her stomach. The news seemed fake—unreal, to her in the sense that it couldn’t have happened. It didn’t happen. Miriam was fine. She had to be.

Her breathing was uneasy as she quickly stood back up. “Where are you?”

Michael told her his exact location—it wasn’t too hard to find, and she would be able to get there pretty quickly.

[Your name] hung up the phone and grabbed some cash and car keys, before she ran outside. She ran to the car that still sat in the driveway. She should have known. She should have checked. Ms. Mead wouldn’t have just left for a walk. She would have said something.

[Your name] entered the location onto the GPS in the car. She took off driving, tears blurring her vision, but she never once stopped. When there wasn’t a cop or a car nearby, she ran through the red lights. She sped until she got to the location.

She quickly slammed on the breaks, putting the car in park. She turned it off and quickly got out of the car, nearly tripping over herself as she planted her feet on the ground.

Michael quickly looked over his shoulder, his eyes wide when he saw her.

He forced himself off of the ground, rushing in her direction. [Your name] met him halfway, her arms tightly wrapping around his body. She let out a soft sob and Michael hugged her back, burying his face in her hair.

“[Your name],” he said, tears forming in his own eyes.

She shook her head, her fingers digging into the fabric of his black suit.

Michael’s fingers gently tangled in her hair as he pulled back to look down at her. Red rimmed the edge of his eyes.

He had been crying, for some time now. [Your name] looked up at him, trying to keep herself calm.

“Michael,” she bit her lip, holding back a sob as she watched him. “What happened… why did this happen?”

Michael shook his head. He would have spoken, had it not been for the blonde witch who walked up to the two, a black umbrella hovering over her head.

Cordelia’s eyes widened when she realized that Michael was not alone.

Michael quickly pushed [Your name] behind him, glaring in Cordelia’s direction.

He didn’t give her a chance to speak, his hand reaching back and gripping onto [Your name]’s. “I’ll kill you,” Michael seethed, his body shaking slightly out of rage. “I’ll kill you and all your damn witches. You stupid—”

[Your name] squeezed his hand. He stopped talking, clenching his jaw.

Cordelia looked from Michael to [Your name] before she gave a curt nod and left them standing there.

Michael quickly turned to face [Your name]. “Never again. I will never let you leave my sight,” he said. “Ever. I… You’re all I have,” he frowned, cupping her cheeks as he spoke.

[Your name] reached up, placing her hands over the top of his. “You’re all I have, too, Michael,” she said, closing her eyes. “I… I’m so sorry. I… I should have realized something was wrong earlier—”

“—you wouldn’t have known what they were planning to do. I didn’t know, either,” he said, frowning deeply. “But they will pay for this. They all will. Every last one of those damned witches. You have my word.”

“I know I do,” [Your name] said, looking up at the man. “Michael, can we—can we go home?” she asked, looking past him at the charred remains of the only good woman in her life. “I… I think we should pack our things. Leave. It’s not safe here…”

“You’re right,” he frowned. “But [Your name], it’s just going to get worse. You… you have to promise me you’ll be by my side. Always.”

“Always,” she nodded.

“Good,” Michael said, pulling her into another hug. He rested his head on her chin. He would protect her until the end of time. The thought of letting her go now made his insides boil. She would never leave his side—never. The only way she’d leave him is through death, and even then, he would bring her back. No matter what.

#michael langdon #michael langdon x reader #michael x reader #michael #ahs #ahs apocalypse #american horror story #american horror story apocalypse #x reader #reader insert #female reader #female reader insert #reader #ahs x reader #american horror story x reader #one shot #x female reader #miriam mead #ms. mead

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fruitcoops · 4 years ago

Note

I was watching this video w Megan Rapinoe & Sue Bird (tumblr won’t let me link but it’s from 2 days ago on GQ- they ask each other questions but it’s like quiz style?) and didn’t know if you would want to do something similar for coops? Some of the stuff they said/how they acted reminded me of coops’ dynamic

Anon, this video was the perfect way to spend an evening. Both these women are my role models and they’re unbelievably cute together--go check out the video here if you have the chance! Their dynamic is a lot like how I imagine Coops, too! Sweater Weather credit goes to @lumosinlove!

“Hey, Lions, we’re back!” Sirius waved at the camera and tapped a short stack on notecards on his thighs. “I’m Captain Sirius Black of the Gryffindor Lions and I’m here with my fiancé, Remus Lupin, to do another couple game.”

“The response to our last few interviews was incredible and we had a great time,” Remus continued. “Miss Marlene McKinnon was kind enough to drag us back in here to answer even more questions!”

“Do you want to go first?”

“Sure.” Remus cleared his throat and pulled the first card. “What are my parents’ first names?”

“Hope and Lyall.”

“Easy peasy, lemon squeezy. What’s my hidden talent?”

“You can sing.”

“Does that count? I feel like most people know that now.”

“Hmm.” Sirius thought for a moment, drumming his fingers on his knees. “You can cook really well.”

“Thank you, baby. What’s my favorite accessory?”

Sirius brightened. “Your watch!”

“Yes!” Remus held it up to the camera—it was simple and elegant, with a leather band and a small face. He wore it with the clock against the inside of his wrist, just above his pulse point. “What is my dream travel destination or vacation?”

“Oh, that’s tough.” Sirius bit his lip in thought. “Seattle? Paris?”

“I do want to go to Seattle, but I’ve always wanted to go to Montreal,” Remus said. “You’ve seen my hometown, but I’ve never been to yours.”

Sirius frowned. “Really?”

“Really. What am I most afraid of?”

“I think…I think you’re most afraid of not being useful,” Sirius said after a moment. “For six years, your job was all about helping people, and it’s not now.”

Remus raised his eyebrows at the camera. “I was going to say the dentist’s office. Goddamn.”

“Sorry,” Sirius laughed. “Yeah, you don’t like medical facilities.”

“I mean, you weren’t wrong about the useful thing,” Remus said. “You still get a point for that. What’s my favorite music, song, or artist to listen to before a game?”

“You don’t have one.”

“That was quick. Half a bonus point for speed. When was our first date and what did we do?”

“Our first official date was just after All-Stars and we went to Sid’s, but we had been together for about three months at that point and just hung out at each other’s houses.”

Remus grinned. “Do you remember what day it was?”

“January 28th.” Sirius gave him a look. “I know for a fact you don’t know what day it was.”

“January 28th.”

“You only know that because I just said it!” Sirius smacked him playfully with his cards. “Next question.”

“What’s my favorite movie and TV show?”

“Jurassic Park and Avatar: The Last Airbender.”

He whistled the first part of the theme song as Sirius did the hand motions. “What’s my shoe size?”

“Oh, god,” Sirius muttered, staring down at the floor. “Eleven? Eleven and a half? You have smaller feet than I do, but not by much.”

“I’m a size ten.”

“Are you really?”

Remus pulled one sneaker off and handed it to him with a laugh. “Check for yourself. Oh, I’d love to know the answer to this one. How do you know when I’m mad at you?”

Sirius tossed his shoe back with a snort. “You make faces.”

Remus seemed surprised. “Do I?”

“Yeah. You’ve got a very expressive face and the second you’re pissed, it’s written all over it. It’s like—” Sirius pursed his lips and scrunched his nose slightly. “I can’t really do it, but anytime I see that I’m like, ‘oh, shit, what did I do?’ Also, you stop calling me baby.”

“That’s what I was going to say. What’s my favorite city to play in?”

“Not Florida.”

“Not fucking Florida,” Remus agreed with a grin.

“Gryffindor for sure.”

“Where was I born?” He gave Sirius a teasing look. “Do you know this time, or should I get my mom on the line?”

Sirius stuck his tongue out. “Madison, Wisconsin.”

Remus glanced at the camera. “We got asked this question in an interview a few months ago and he had to call my mom afterward because he forgot.”

“She made fun of me the whole time,” Sirius pouted.

“What is my favorite food? Oh, you’ll get this one for sure.” Sirius hesitated and Remus’ eyes widened. “Really?”

“I’m a little torn. It’s either my grilled cheese or your dad’s turkey-cranberry thing. Actually, I don’t think you know what your favorite food is.”

Remus nodded slowly. “That’s a really good point. My first thought was grilled cheese, but my dad makes the best postgame sandwiches. I’ll give you that. What’s my favorite hobby?”

“Reading.”

“What did I want to be when I was a kid?”

“A librarian, until you started playing hockey.”

Remus leaned over and high-fived him. “You’re on a roll, baby. What was my jersey number in college?”

“Number six.”

“The transition was so fucking easy,” Remus laughed. “Coach literally came up to me a month before practices started and went ‘hey, what was your old number?’ and I told him, and he looked down at his clipboard and went, ‘cool.’. I got my jersey two weeks later.”

“Is this your last question?”

“It is, indeed. What’s my full birth name?”

“Remus Jehosephat Lupin.”

“That is incorrect.”

“Close enough. It’s Remus John Lupin, which I find endlessly funny.”

“Why is it funny?” Marlene asked off-screen. Remus hid his face behind his notecards as Sirius laughed.

“Because it’s such a basic middle name! I love Hope and Lyall with my entire heart and they’re wonderful people, but they named their sons Remus and Julian and then I think they got stuck. Like, you’ve got these two very uncommon first names and they sort of went ‘fuck it. John and Michael. We’re done.’ It’s just so funny.”

“Whereas your parents went the extra mile and gave you and Reg goddamn supervillain names,” Remus snorted. “The drama of it all, my god.”

“Alright, alright, my turn.” Sirius leaned his elbows on his knees. “What is my favorite color?”

“Blue.”

“How do I like my coffee?”

Remus hissed between his teeth. “Ah, shit, you always make the coffee. With a lot of sugar, right? It’s black with sugar?”

“It can’t be black if it has sugar in it,” Sirius laughed. “But yes, I do put sugar in my coffee. What are three things I never leave the house without?”

“Keys, wallet, phone.”

“My favorite TV show?”

“Why are you going through these so fast? Uh, Avatar.”

“Did I ever have a job that wasn’t playing hockey?”

“Nope.” Remus frowned. “Were you allowed to get a job as a kid?”

“I was not. What’s my favorite ice cream flavor?”

“Cookies and cream.”

Sirius made a buzzer noise. “Incorrect.”

“Is it chocolate?”

“Yep. You get half a point for that. What’s the first meal I ever cooked for you?”

Remus gave him a look. “You don’t remember what you cooked for me, do you?”

“Refresh my memory?”

“No way!” He punched him lightly on the arm. “I’m not falling for my own tricks. Next question.”

“It’s kind of a repeat from earlier. How do you know when I’m mad at you?”

Remus fiddled with the edges of his cards. “You act all weird and Captain-y, and then you get quiet. Just cranky vibes all around.”

“Cranky vibes,” Sirius laughed. “Good to know. What are my favorite movie-watching snacks?”

“Popcorn and…Sweet Tarts?”

“Yes!” Sirius gave him a high-five. “Do you know what I like on my popcorn?”

“Butter and enough salt to kill a Victorian child.”

“Bonus point! What is—oh, shit!” He nearly fumbled the cards onto the floor. “What is my favorite movie of all time?”

“Indiana Jones.”

“Which one?”

“The one with Marian, because she reminds you of me.” Remus looked over at the camera. “I really don’t like snakes.”

“What is the first thing I do when I wake up in the morning?”

“Oh, I think this requires a demonstration. C’mere.”

“Does it really?” Sirius sighed as he laid down next to him.

“For sure.” Remus cuddled into his side and laid his head on his shoulder. “Alright, the key to a true Sirius Black wake-up is getting all four limbs wrapped around the other person like you’re trying to suffocate them with affection.”

“Okay—”

“And then,” Remus continued with a grin. “I go, ‘honey, wake up’—”

“You absolutely do not.”

“In my head, that’s what I say. It’s very sweet. To answer the question, the first thing Sirius does is this.” He buried his face in Sirius’ chest and groaned loudly, then dissolved into snickering as Sirius’ chest began to shake with suppressed laughter. “Stop it, you’re ruining the demonstration!”

“You forgot the part where I have to peel you off me with pliers and grease,” Sirius teased as they stood up, dusting themselves off. The camera crew applauded and they both bowed. “Alright, where were we? What am I most scared of?”

“Losing your friends and family,” Remus said. “Also, spiders and most bugs.”

“You forgot one.”

“Which one? The dish soap bubbles?”

“Losing you.”

A vibrant blush tinted Remus’ cheeks and ears, and he floundered for words. “Oh.”

“You still get the points, though,” Sirius said mildly. “What city do I like playing in the most?”

Remus paused for a moment longer, then shook his head to clear his thoughts. “Uh, Gryffindor. You like the crowd.”

“I do.” Sirius smiled at the camera. “To all the fans out there: you are incredible and there is nothing like skating out with everybody roaring so loud the windows shake. Who is my biggest hockey influence?”

“Now, or when you were younger?”

“Now.”

“It’s Dumo, right?”

Sirius nodded. “On and off the ice. What’s my proudest career moment?”

“Hmm, I wonder,” Remus said sarcastically. “Could it possibly be winning the Stanley Cup?”

“Just maybe,” Sirius laughed. “What’s my most famous celly, and which one’s my favorite?”

Remus grinned. “Lightning McQueen.”

“I hate it when you call it that.” Despite his words, Sirius was smiling. “It’s supposed to be cool!”

“Can you elaborate?” Marlene asked.

“I mean, most people who have seen him play know what I’m talking about,” Remus said, gesturing to the camera. “But Sirius’ famous celly is a double fist pump, and I call it the Lightning McQueen because it’s like ka-chow! It’s also his favorite one, though he dances when we’re skating alone or with a couple of the guys.”

“Shhh, they aren’t supposed to know that!” Sirius covered Remus’ mouth with his notecard. “This is the very last one. What is my biggest pet peeve?”

“When I leave my socks laying around the house.”

“Ding, ding, ding, we have a winner! That drives me fucking bonkers. Marley, who won?”

“It wasn’t a competition,” she said off-screen. “Just a Q & A.”

“Who got the most right?” Remus asked.

“You two are hopeless,” she muttered. There were a few beats of silence. “Remus won, with sixteen and a half out of seventeen. Sirius, you had fifteen and a half.”

“No.” Sirius groaned and dropped his head into his hands as Remus whooped.

“Hell yes!”

“My bonus points let you win.” He shook his head in disbelief. “I can’t believe this.”

Remus faced the camera with a victorious smile. “Thanks for joining us to witness my landslide victory—”

“It was one point.”

“And make sure to like and subscribe for more Lion Pride content! See you around, Lions.” They both mock-saluted, and the video ended.

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talkfastromance4 · 3 years ago

Text

a weekend away--Luke&Lily oneshot

A/N: just a cute little something and a catch up on our flower family🙂

Word count: 2.7k

Warnings: talks of pregnancy, a lot of cute baby stuff

Masterlist

Luke&Lily Masterlist

Enjoy!☺️

••••••

“I don’t think we should go,” you tell Luke for the hundredth time while you’re packing your weekend bag. The girls’ bags have already been packed along with their swimsuits and other pool toys.

Luke’s arms fell slack into his suitcase, he was in the process of folding his favorite red caravan t-shirt. He looks up at you and you admire him for a moment ahead of your worry. His hair is pulled back in the middle of his head in a bun, a few strands frame his face. He’s kept his beard for a while now you can’t even remember what he looks like without it.

“Y/N, we’ve discussed it with Dr. Wilson, Oliver is where he should be. His heart is strong,” he moves in front of you resting his hands on your tense shoulders. “His oxygen levels are good, he’s eating and sleeping longer through the night. And we have the pediatric staff near the compound in case we need them.”

“I just want to make sure he’s safe,” your fingers play with the hoodie strings hanging in front of Luke’s chest.

“I know, lovie, I do too. We’ll be with him the whole time.”

“What if someone asks to hold him? I’m not ready for that yet and I don’t want them to think I don’t trust them,” you shake your head vehemently.

“I know, I know,” he hushes and starts to rub at your shoulders. His fingers rub up to your neck and below your ears, twisting at the tension placed there. “They’ll understand, lovie. Besides, Violetta will be there and I’m sure Cory and Ella are looking forward to some adult time.”

You sigh and close your eyes letting him continue his ministrations on your tense muscles.

“I know you’re right, this is the first time he’s going to be away from home since we brought him here. And it’s only been a few months. All of his stuff is here.”

“We’re going to bring it along. Crystal made sure there’s beds for the girls and bassinets for the babies. We’re all a family,” he smiles and kisses your forehead. “Okay?”

“Okay,” you whisper, then wrap your arms around his waist. He hugs you to him tightly and you find comfort easily in his embrace. Your body relaxes but your mind is going haywire with any and all outcomes that could happen.

“Mama look!” Posy shouts when you’re all at The Big Bearian. She ran to the wide glass sliding doors and pointed out the window of the pool below her. There were already floaties moving lazily around in the water.

“And a slide!” Lily exclaims joining her sister, their noses pressed against the glass.

“A slide? I call going down first,” Ashton says, dropping his and KayKay’s bags on the floor.

The rest of the adults shuffle in behind you with Luke bringing up the rear carrying Oliver in his car seat. He slept the whole way here.

“Me too! Me too!” Posy claps her hands and jumps up and down in her spot.

“First, we need to have lunch,” you say standing in between your girls. You brush your fingers over their hair lightly. “Then we need to find your rooms, my babies.”

“Then can we swim?” Lily pouts up at you.

“We’ll see,” you smile.

All of you split up for the first few hours getting rooms situated while you got lunch sorted with the help of Lily. When you cut up the vegetables, she placed them on the plate by color. The rest of the family entered the kitchen, Posy was in Ashton’s arms and Luke sidled up next to you, his hands on your waist.

“How is he?” you ask, watching as the others go down the food line you assembled for sandwich making.

“He was starting to wake up a little but it’s almost his lunchtime, too,” Luke grins, picking up a plate.

“I’ll go in there soon and feed him,” you sigh, watching everyone.

Crystal is holding Violetta in her arms, bouncing her lightly and kissing her cheeks. Violetta is three months old and she really looks a lot like Ella, but you can see Cory in her face as well. Then you remembered the bassinets Crystal had promised.

“Is he in the bassinet? There is one in the room, right?”

“I kept him in his carrier for now and yes, it’s right by the bed. Try to relax this weekend?” he ducks his head down to give you a soft kiss. You melt into him.

“I hope you guys are using protection. Give yourselves a break before baby number three comes along,” Calum teases taking a big bite out of his sandwich.

“Cal,” Luke sighs, pulling away from you.

“Protection of what?” Lily looks up at her favorite uncle.

You, Luke, and Cory all shoot glares at Calum whose eyes are wide. Cory is closer to him so he smacks the back of his head.

“Ow!”

“Thanks for that,” Cory shakes his head then turns to Lily. “Mommies and daddies need to be careful sometimes before they have a baby. You don’t have to worry about it though, okay Lils?”

“Okay,” she chirps, then moves to the table to sit next to Ella. You, Luke, and Cory exchange looks of relief that she dropped the topic so quickly.

“Mama can we swim noww?!” Posy whines.

“Eat your last grape,” you nod to her plate and she pops the small triangular cut piece in her mouth.

“Thank you. Now we need to find your swimsuit,” you say trying to stand but you just started feeding Oliver. He was tucked to your breast under the wrap you had around yourself.

“I got it lovie, you're busy,” Luke touches your shoulder gently then lifts Posy in his arms. “Let’s get you changed my little fish.”

“I not a fish!” Posy giggles when Luke tickles her belly and leaves the kitchen/dining area.

“Do you want to go swimming, Lily?” you ask her.

“I can pull you in the unicorn floaty,” Cal smiles and her eyes light up.

“Okay! Can Olly come?” she asks, looking at you.

“Oops, we need to put Vi down,” Ella says as Violetta lets out a mangled and tired cry. “I might take a nap myself.”

“I’ll come with, I’m beat from driving,” Cory stands then stretches his arms above his head. He kisses Lily’s head when she skips past him to stand in front of you.

“He’s too small to go swimming,” you explain gently to Lily. “But we can sit and watch you in the water.”

“Okay mama, I’ll show him how I can swim underwater!”

“Go ask dada to help you, okay?”

“I’m already in my suit so I’ll meet you all out there,” Ashton stands. “Coming babe?”

“I’ll help Crys clean up,” KayKay shakes her head. “You guys have fun.”

“Guess I’ll go change,” Cal sighs and leaves the room.

Crystal and KayKay start gathering plates and then Michael sits next to you, he gives you a small smile.

“How’s my buddy doing?”

“Good. I was nervous to come but Luke convinced me.”

“I’m glad he did. It wouldn’t have been the same without you all here,” he folds his arms over his chest in a makeshift hug. He looks to Crystal and KayKay who are chatting by the sink.

“What’s wrong?” you nudge him with your elbow being careful not to jostle Oliver.

“Nothing, nothing,” he shrugs, shaking his head but his eyes are still on Crystal.

“Mike,” you give him a look and he sighs heavily.

“Crystal and I are trying to have a baby,” he informs quietly.

“Really?! Oh, that’s so exciting!”

“Yeah, it was at first,” he winces, his eyes a sad green. “We thought she was pregnant but it turned out to be a false positive.”

“When did you start trying? If I can ask.”

“Of course, you can ask, you’re the leader of most kids around here,” he chortles and scratches at his scruff. “Um, I think a few weeks ago? Yeah, the end of last month.”

“Sometimes it takes a few tries, Luke and I tried for months for Oliver and nothing was happening. And now look,” you glance down at his small form beneath the wrap. Michael smiles at his nephew. “Is Crystal stressed about it?”

“I don’t think so, just me.”

“Don’t put so much pressure on yourself. Just...enjoy the process.” You both laugh awkwardly. “Sorry for the talk of your sex life.”

“Please, I’ve heard enough about yours, it’s only fair.”

“You’re joking.”

“Nope, Luke wouldn’t shut up about it when you first started dating.”

“That’s embarrassing,” you mutter, then rub his arm affectionately. “It’ll happen when it’s supposed to, and when it does, you two are going to be amazing parents.”

“Thanks Y/N.”

You adjust Oliver from under the wrap and rest his head gingerly on your shoulder. Your fingers tap on his back.

“I’m going to have a talk with my husband,” you say absentmindedly.

“Don’t mention my name.”

“I’ll blame Cal. Oh! There’s a good burp, baby boy.”

“He’s gotten bigger since the last time I saw him.”

“He’s eating a lot more now, too,” you boast proudly.

“Is he going to nap now that he ate?”

“Probably, so he won’t be that entertaining.”

“I’ll go see if Crystal needs help.”

He leaves you be and as you’re in the process of shifting Oliver back in the crook of your arm, he spits up a little.

“Oops, ate a little too fast, huh?” you reach into his back for a burp rag when you hear Posy’s excited shouts. They must be on their way to the pool. She runs past you through the back door but Luke or Calum aren’t anywhere in sight.

“Posy! Luke!” you shout trying to stand up but your feet are tangled in the bag and then pairs of hands are on you. You look to see Crystal holding you and Michael’s hand is cupping Oliver’s small head. “Posy is by the pool by herself--I need to--LUKE! Take him!”

You hand Oliver off to Michael and run out the door taking the stairs two or three at a time, you aren’t sure but you’re flying. On the last step your ankle rolls a little and your heart is pounding in your ears, adrenaline pulsing through your veins.

Posy is screaming. You’re screaming. Luke is screaming behind you and then he collides into you when you turn the corner to see Posy in Ashton’s arms. She’s giggling and Ashton looks up at you like a dog with his tail between his legs.

“Hi mama!”

“Posy Mae.”

She stops giggling, her dimples disappear at the tone of your voice. She knows it’s the ‘I did something bad’ voice. Ashton moves through the water to the edge of the pool where you and Luke are standing. The two of you kneel on the deck and Ashton hands Posy over to you.

“Posy Mae look at me,” your voice shakes from fear of what could have happened. Posy looks up at you, her lower lip jutting out. “What are mama and daddy’s rules about the pool?

“Can’t be by myself,” she whispers through a sniff and you wipe at the round tears rolling down her cheeks.

“Don’t you do that again. You wait until me or daddy, Uncle Ash, or Aunt Kaykay or anybody are with you, okay?” you cup her face so her eyes stay trained on you, she nods. “You scared mama.”

You pull her into your arms and she latches hers around your neck tightly.

“Sorry mama.”

“We don’t want you to get hurt, bug,” Luke strokes her cheek delicately.

You give her multiple kisses to the side of her head and cheeks before pulling away. You smile at her.

“You stay with Uncle Ash while we get your floaties now, all right?” You give her one more kiss before handing her over to Ashton again.

“Good thing I was already down here,” Ashton says and sets Posy onto his back. He holds onto her hands that are under his neck.

“I was going to jump in if you weren’t,” you exhale then turn to Luke. “What even happened?”

“She got too excited about the unicorn and floaty and ran off before I could catch her. I was about to jump over the rails and break my neck for her,” he shakes his head.

“Yeah, I almost broke my ankle on the last step,” you flex your foot and wince at the slight discomfort. You take Luke’s hand and start up the stairs again where you see everyone is standing.

“What happened?” Calum asks.

“Is she okay?” Michael asks and you smile at the sight of Oliver in his arms.

“She’s okay, Ashton’s with her,” Luke sighs. “Do I need to check your foot, lovie?”

“I’m fine,” you shake your head and move into the house to get Lily and Posy’s floaties.

***

The rest of the day was spent by the pool and you couldn’t find it within you to take Oliver away from Michael and Crystal. They would switch off holding him and from what he shared with you earlier, it warmed your heart to see them loving on him.

Crystal would rub at his soft peach fuzz hair and Michael would talk quietly to him when he was nestled on his chest. Lily and Posy were having a blast in the pool with their uncles and not too long after, KayKay joined them.

Posy loved running her fingers over KayKay’s buzzed haircut because it “felt fuzzy and tickled.” Lily would chase Calum in her unicorn floaty and when she caught up to him he would pull her as fast as he could through the water.

You and Luke sat next to Michael and Crystal, your foot you rolled rested on Luke’s lap as he rubbed it.

When dinner rolled around, the guys prepared the grill food while you and the girls made salads and cooked the rolls in the oven. Ella had Violetta wrapped around her torso while she worked and you smiled each time Violetta peeked her head up.

After dinner it was only customary to have smores on the upper deck where the fire pit was. Oliver went to bed just as the sun was setting but you had the monitor next to you while you helped Lily with her marshmallow. She shared her sweet treat with Calum while Posy sat on Ella’s lap.

“For you my love,” Luke holds a smore in front of your mouth.

“Am I supposed to take a bite?” you laugh.

“Yes,” he chuckles.

You open your mouth and take a big bite, graham cracker crumbs tumble down your chin and you feel melted chocolate on your lips. Luke takes the seat next to you and takes his own bite, a big grin on his lips.

“Good?”

“Messy,” you nod.

“C’mere,” he motions you forward. He rubs the chocolate and graham cracker from your lips, licks it off and then captures your lips with his. He tastes like chocolate and is a little sticky from the marshmallow but it gives you butterflies nonetheless.

“Don’t you two ever keep your hands off each other?” Calum groans from across the fire.

“You’re just jealous,” Ashton scoffs.

“I am, have some pity on my single heart.”

Your laughter breaks the kiss you and Luke are sharing. After a while, when Lily and Posy are asleep in Cory and Ashton’s laps respectively, you and Luke decide to take your girls to bed. Posy is half asleep when you change her into her pajamas and Lily crawls into the small bed they’re sharing very slowly.

You and Luke kiss your girls goodnight, leave on a nightlight and then move next door to your room where Oliver is still fast asleep.

“What an eventful day, huh?” Luke yawns loudly, settling into your bed.

“I hope this is all that happens.”

“Knowing our big group, I highly doubt that,” he smiles and pulls you to his chest.

“It’s going to be a long weekend.”

“Maybe we can leave the kids here and go get some massages.”

“Mm, that sounds nice.”

“A weekend away with you is always nice,” he kisses your forehead and soon you’re fast asleep.

****

Taglist: @calumance @in-superbloom @calpalirwin @karajaynetoday @wiiildflowerrr @sunshineeeluke @littledrummeraussie @suchalonelysunflower @hoodhoran @Fobodob @thew0rldneedsmcreycghurt @sunshineeashton @ashtonsunflower @mymindwide @itjustkindahappenedreally

#luke & lily writing #luke & lily oneshot #luke & lily fic #dad!luke #dad!sos #luke hemmings fluff #luke fluff

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fandom-imagines-stories · 4 years ago

Text

Lost Boy

Sodapop Curtis x Reader

Words: 4305

Summary: 16 years of never belonging and you’ve finally had enough. You move in with your outcast sister in Tulsa and meet a group of boys who finally make you feel like you’re where you’re supposed to be. Inspired by the song Lost Boy by Ruth B.

Notes: Peter Pan is one of my all time favorite stories and I love this song. I thought it could bring a whimsical, yet still angsty feel to a Sodapop imagine so I hope you guys enjoy!

Warnings: Mentions of abuse

Sodapop and more: HERE

There was a time, when I was alone

Nowhere to go and no place to call home

You always wanted to know what it was like to fly. To soar above the clouds, too far away to hear your parent’s screaming. Watching the world zoom by through the car window was the closest you’d ever felt to flying. You were free.

Pulling up to the little shack of a house, your sister, Beth, gave you a small smile.

“It's not much. You’ll be sleeping on the couch until we can clean out the attic.” She rambled. Beth rambled when she was nervous. “We were going to have you stay in the boys’ room, but Michael has a fever so he’s had to stay in bed-”

“Beth,” You gave her the biggest smile you could. You hadn’t smiled like that in a long time. “It’s perfect.” There was a loud racket coming from the house at the end of the block and three rowdy boys came bounding down the street.

“Hey Mrs. Austin.” One greeted as you both got out of the car. Your sister waved and he grinned. You never knew a boy could have a smile as nice as he had.

“Steve, my engine is making that sound again.” Beth said to one of the other boys.

“I’ll look at it as soon as we get back.” He said and the three took off down the street again. The one with the nice smile looked back at you and for a second you thought he might have winked.

“Who was that?” You asked, turning your attention back to your sister as she helped you unpack. You didn’t have much. Just some clothes and a couple books.

“The one I was talking to is Steve Randal. He’s been helping me keep this piece of junk rolling.” Beth patted the hood of the car. “The others are two of the Curtis boys. They live with their big brother Darryl down the block.” She pointed to the house the boys had come out of. “Nice kids.”

You watched them walk for a moment longer before taking your things inside. Your brother in law greeted you with a suffocating hug and one of your nephews wrapped around your leg.

“John.” Beth laughed, prying him off of you. John was six-years-old and Michael was four. They were two of the sweetest and silliest boys you’d ever met.

“Look at how big you’ve gotten,” You said, feeling a twinge of guilt. You hadn’t seen the boys since Michaels first birthday. You were lucky if your parents let you write Beth letters.

Beth was your age when she got pregnant with John. Your parents kicked her out of the house and told her never to come back. Her and Jack got married and moved here, to Tulsa. Two years later, she had Michael. They were happy, which was more than you could say for your parents. But you’d never have to worry about them again.

After you settled in a little, you decided to find a quiet place in the neighborhood to read. You’d lost count how many times you had read Peter Pan, but you never got tired of it. The idea of a place like Neverland got you through every fight, every tear filled night, and every cigar burn.

You walked around for a while before you found a nice spot in the big empty lot. There were a couple of logs to lean on and a spot where a fire had been. With winter break coming to its end, the January air made you shiver. You didn’t mind. You were too happy to even notice.

Just as you opened to the first page, you saw a figure approaching. He was hunched over with his hands shoved in his pockets. He didn’t even notice you until he reached where you were sitting. This must be his usual spot.

“Hey, who are you?” He spat, though it was hard to be intimidated by his quivering voice.

“My name is Y/N,” You said calmly, setting your book aside. “I just moved here.”

“Yeah, well you better beat it.” He ducked his head like he was trying to hide his face from you. “There are some real creeps around here at night and you don’t look like no greaser girl.”

“I’m usually pretty good at handling myself.” You stood, not to scare him, but to show that you weren’t scared. “What’s your name?”

“What’s it to you?”

“Well, if we’re going to be friends, I’d like to know your name.”

“Who said I wanted to be friends?”

You sighed and tucked your book under your arm.

“Suit yourself.” You walked past him, bumping his shoulder as you went.

“Wait.” He squeaked. You turned around. “What… what are you reading?” A little surprised, you lifted up the cover so he could see it.

“It’s my favorite. I’ve read it so many times, but I never get tired of it.” You beamed as he read of the gold lettering on the cover, worn from years of being very well loved. You could see his face now and you held back a gasp. His cheek was red and swollen and his lip was split. He caught you staring and quickly turned away.

“Like I said, you better get out of here.” He huffed. Without thinking, you put a hand on his shoulder.

“My dad hit me too.” You didn’t know how you knew, but you did. At first, he seemed angry and jerked his shoulder away. But his face softened and he looked at the ground.

“My name’s Johnny.”

“Now was that so hard?” You playfully nudged his arm to try and ease the tension. He even smiled a little.

“Johnny!” Another figure appeared across the lot, barreling towards you like a steam engine. You were worried that it might be his dad, but as he got closer, you saw how young he was. He looked Beth’s age, maybe younger.

“Hey Darry.” Johnny greeted, his voice still quiet.

“I thought that was you I saw slinkin 'over here.” the man crossed his arms disapprovingly. “The hell are you doin out here? You’re gonna freeze to death.” Darry saw the signs of violence on the boy’s face and sighed. “Come on home with me and I'll fix you something to eat.”

“Thanks Darry.” Johnny muttered. Darry’s stare landed on you.

“Haven’t seen you before.”

“I just moved here today.” You meant to sound tougher, but your voice came out as a squeak. Man, he was scary. After giving you a once over and figuring you weren’t trouble, his hard stared turned a little more welcoming.

“You must be Beth Austin’s kid sister.”

“Yes, sir.”

“No need for that, now.” He chuckled. “You can call me Darry, same as everybody else. Your sister told me to watch out for you.”

“She did?” You knew Beth was protective, but she didn’t have to alert the neighborhood.

“Probably wants you to stay away from us greasers.” Johnny said and Darry tousled his hair.

“You can come over for dinner too, if you want.” He offered. You would have declined, but your stomach started growling something awful. Darry motioned for you to follow him.

“That’s Darry for you.” Johnny whispered with a small smirk. “He’s got a habit of takin’ in strays.”

He came to me with the sweetest smile

Told me he wanted to talk for a while

It was kinda funny how well you fit in at a table full of boys. Darry was still fixing dinner and Johnny was talking to the youngest Curtis, Ponyboy. It only took a little convincing from Johnny for Ponyboy to get comfortable with you being there.

“Damnit, where is that boy?” Darry exclaimed, throwing down a dish towel.

“He probably got caught up talking to all those girls that come to see him.” Ponyboy said, sounding a little jealous.

“Yeah, well if he wants dinner, he better get his butt back here.”

“Who are we waiting or?” You asked Johnny in a low voice.

“Oh, they’re just goin’ on about Sodapop. He’s the middle one.”

“His name is Sodapop?” You wondered. You didn’t laugh like other girls sometimes did. You were actually curious.

“Sure is. Our dad liked unique names.” Ponyboy beamed. “And Soda’s as unique as they come.”

“That’s one word for it.” Darry laughed, shaking his head. As if he heard his name, the middle Curtis burst through the front door, an excited grin lighting up his face.

“You shoulda seen her, Darry.” He howled. “Prettiest girl I’ve ever seen.”

“You say that about every girl.” His older brother scoffed.

“Well this time, I mean it. And she’s just down the street!” Sodapop leaned against the fridge with a dreamy expression. Darry cleared his throat, jerking his head towards the dinner table. Ponyboy and Johnny were ready to burst from laughter. As soon as Sodapop’s eyes landed on you, he nearly fell over, his face turning a very cute shade of pink.

“You must be Sodapop.” You tried your best to hide the nervousness in your voice, not to mention the furious blush lighting up your face. You had never been called pretty before. Maybe he wasn’t talking about you. After all, he only saw you for a second.

“Yes ma’am.” He straightened himself out and smiled. Lord, that smile. “You-uh-you’re the girl I saw with Mrs. Austin.”

“What’re you calling her ‘ma’am’ for?” Johnny exclaimed. Ponyboy elbowed him in the side. “Ow! What? She’s just one of us!” You laughed at the two, but kept your eyes on Soda.

“That’s me alright. Beth’s my big sister. I’m gonna live with her now.” You said proudly.

“Where are your folks?” The youngest boy wondered.

“Ponyboy,” Darry scolded sharply. He knew that the story probably wasn’t a nice one. In this neighborhood, they never were. You didn’t seem upset by the younger boy’s question.

“They’re still in Chicago. Be glad you’ll never have to meet them.” You shrugged, your gaze returning to Sodapop. His blue eyes were bright with curiosity. He sat down across from you and Darry put down a plate of sandwiches.

It was the liveliest dinner you’d ever had. Darry and Ponyboy squabbled back and forth while Johnny scarfed down his sandwich.

“Whatcha reading?” Sodapop asked, eyeing the book you had set on the table.

“Oh, um, you’ll probably think it’s silly.” You quickly pulled the book into your lap. His lips fell into a pout.

“I promise I won’t.” His voice was so sweet that you knew he wasn’t going to make fun of you. You slid the worn down and well loved book across to him. “Peter Pan?” He read. “I remember that Disney movie when we were kids. Never thought about reading the book.”

“That’s cause you don’t read.” Ponyboy snickered. There was a thud and Ponyboy cried out, rubbing his now sore shin.

“Is it any good?” Soda asked.

“Oh it’s my favorite.” You beamed. “I guess the idea of flying away to a place where you never have to grow up was a nice thought when I was with my parents and all their yelling.”

You felt the tone of the table change. Ponyboy and Johnny looked at each other, Darry clasped his hands together on the table and Soda gave you a sympathetic smile. The grim shift made you think of home.

“Alright, enough with the long faces.” You exclaimed, leaning across to playfully shove Ponyboy’s shoulder. “That’s all over now.” You looked at each boy with the brightest smile they’d ever seen. Your gaze landed on Sodapop and his lips returned your grin. “This is Neverland.”

Smiles returned to the boys’ faces and Darry even chuckled. You and Soda just kept looking at each other.

“You clearly haven’t been in Tulsa long enough.” A new voice sneered. Everybody looked at the boy standing in the doorway. He had a hard stare and a mean look about him, but you didn’t let that scare you. You’d seen meaner.

“Anywhere is better than where I was before.” You replied calmly. The boy narrowed his eyes and looked you over.

“Is there something you need, Dally?” Darry asked sternly.

“Little bird told me there was a new girl in the neighborhood. Didn’t think she’d be slumming with us greasers already.” Dally kept his mean glare on you until Sodapop stood up.

“Come on, Y/N. Why don’t I walk you home?”

“Soda must think you need protecting.” He smirked. “I think you look like you can handle a guy like me.”

“Cut it out, Dallas.” Darry’s voice was a warning now.

“It’s alright. I should be getting back anyway to help Beth get the boys in bed.” You pushed away from the table, thanking Darry for dinner and saying goodnight to everyone. Lastly, you turned to Dally as you and Soda passed him. “It was nice meeting you, Dallas.”

You could feel his stare burning into the back of your head as you stepped out into the cool night air.

“Sorry about him.” Sodapop said, shoving his hands in the back pockets of his jeans as he walked. “Dally’s really not so bad. He’s just acting like that cause he don’t know you yet.”

“Don’t worry about it.” You shrugged. “I knew plenty of boys like that back in Chicago, only I didn’t have a tough guy like Darry or a sweet one like you to stand up to them, so Dallas is right.”

“About what?”

“I can handle guys like him.” You bumped his shoulder with yours and laughed. “I appreciate you walking with me, though. Beth would kill me if she thought I was out here by myself at night.”

“Has she always been protective like that?”

“I guess.” You thought for a moment. “When we were kids, she was always sticking up for me to our old man. She never let him lay a hand on me as long as she was around.” You found a pebble on the sidewalk and nudged it with your toe. “When she got pregnant, she didn't have a choice but leave. I think she just still sees me as that scrawny 10-year-old.”

You walked together in silence for a moment. You stopped suddenly, looking up at the sky. Stars stared back down at you with their bright faces. You liked to think they were smiling. Soda was a few steps away before he noticed that you had stopped.

“What’re you looking at?” He asked, walking back to join you. He tilted his head upward, trying to find whatever had caught your attention.

“The sky’s a lot prettier out here.” You mused. “In Chicago, it’s all lights and smog. But here, you can really see the stars.” That feeling of flying was back, taking you up into the air just like the book.

“You’re a different kinda girl, you know that?” Sodapop laughed. You spun around with your arms extended.

“You have to be different to survive, Sodapop Curtis.” When you looked at him, he could have sworn that your eyes twinkled like the stars.

I am a Lost Boy, from Neverland

Usually hanging out with Peter Pan

“They were not nearly so elegant as Peter, they could not help kicking a little, but their heads were bobbing against the ceiling and there is almost nothing so delicious as that.” You read in a clear voice so that all the boys could hear you. It was strangely nice out and the afternoon had turned into a kind of gathering at the park. You were sitting underneath the jungle gym with Johnny and Ponyboy sprawled out across from you. Sodapop and Steve had their knees hooked on the bars to see who could hang upside down the longest.

“Do you think this counts as flying?” Soda grinned down at you. Even upside down, it was the sweetest smile you’d ever seen.

“Only until you hit the ground.” Steve swung out his arm to try and knock him down, but Soda was quicker than that and Steve was the one that ended up in the dirt. Everybody laughed and Steve was only angry for a minute.

“Let her keep going.” Johnny whined. He seemed less skittish than he had last night. Ponyboy waited until Steve wasn’t looking to nod eagerly in agreement.

“Pony, don’t you have studying to do?” Soda climbed down and gave his brother a pleading look. It didn’t take long for Ponyboy to catch on. He made a face and got up, nudging Johnny to join him.

“Don’t be too late, Soda else Darry’ll take it out on me.” He grumbled, thanking you for the story before taking off back to the house. Steve also came up with an excuse to ditch, leaving just you and Sodapop, who tried to look surprised.

“Is this how you pick up all your girls? Cornering them in parks?” You scoffed, putting your book back in your bag. Man, his face turned red.

“I don’t know what- um- I’m not… no.” He stammered, kicking the toe of his boot into the dirt. You laughed.

“Relax, Soda, I’m just teasin’ you.” You shoved him playfully and slung your bag over your shoulder. The wind picked up a little and you shivered.

“Don’t you have a coat or something?” Soda asked, watching the goosebumps appear on your arms. You’d picked one of your short sleeve shirts since it was so nice, but now the weather seemed to remember what month it was. “Here.”

Soda wrapped an arm around your shoulders, rubbing your skin to help warm you up. His hands were softer than you thought they’d be with him working at the gas station and all. Being so close brought a pleasant pink color to your cheeks. Before you knew it, you were inching closer and closer until he kissed you.

His lips were gentle and soft and perfect. You both forgot to breathe for a while, but that didn’t bother you. When you did finally pull away, you both had the biggest grins on your faces.

“Maybe I should walk you home.” Soda said breathlessly. You nodded and, with a rush of courage you laced your fingers together as you walked.

By the time you got home, you felt like you were floating. It wasn’t the same as flying. This wasn’t rushed or heart-pounding. It was quieter and sweet. You couldn’t help but give him another kiss goodnight. When he was walking back to his house, he seemed to have a skip in his step.

You swung the front door open with a wide smile, giggling to yourself like a little kid. But that happy feeling washed away when you saw who Beth was sitting with.

“Daddy?”

Run, run Lost Boy, they say to me

Away from all of reality

You ran until your lungs felt like they’d burst. All you heard were three terrifying words and you got out of there as fast as you could “Takin’ you home.” You were home. That bastard wasn’t taking you anywhere.

You took the back way to the Curtis house, ducking your way through other people’s back yards so that your father wouldn’t be able to follow you. You were too afraid to go around front, so you found a low window and knocked on the glass.

“Darry!” You whisper-shouted. “Soda, Pony, is anybody in there? Sodapop?”

The curtains were pulled aside and an irritated looking Darry peaked out at you. He lifted up the window pane all the way so he could lean out and get a better look at you.

“The hell are you doing here, Y/N?” He asked. “Soda said he just dropped you off at home a few minutes ago.”

“I couldn’t go around front, Darry, he might see me.” You sniffed, wiping your nose on your sleeve. You must have been crying cause your face was all wet. “Could you help me in?”

He nodded and pulled you up by the arms. As you climbed in the window, Ponyboy appeared behind Darry with big eyes. You must have looked worse than you thought from climbing all those fences and cutting through yards.

“What happened to you?”

“Pony, go get her a glass of water. And where’s that other kid brother of mine?” Darry shouted before turning back to you. “Jeez, kiddo, you’re shaking like a leaf.”

“Yeah, Darry?” Soda popped his head into the room. His eyes went as wide as Pony’s had when he saw you. “Hey, Y/N, what’s the matter?” Darry grabbed the front of his shirt and yanked him forward.

“Sodapop Patrick Curtis, if you hurt his girl, I’m gonna-”

“It wasn’t Soda.” You blurted. You crossed your arms over your chest and stared down at the floor. “It’s my dad. He’s come to take me back to Chicago.” You jerked your chin up, trying to look tougher than you felt. “But I’m not gonna let him.”

“I thought they let Beth bring you here.” Darry closed the window and grabbed you a blanket from the bed. It was then that you realized you must have climbed into Darry’s room. There was a pair of work boots on the floor and an old, beat-up football on the shelf.

“They did.” You glowered. Soda gently wrapped the blanket around your shoulders. “Guess they missed having something to scream at besides each other.”

“Well you can just stay here til he goes away, right Darry?” Soda said, not losing his sunny optimism for a second. Before Darry could respond, a series of loud bangs came from the front door.

“I know she’s in there you little punks!”

“Oh god, it’s him.” You hid yourself in Soda’s embrace and Darry went to answer the door.

“Come out now you-” Your father’s shouting stopped abruptly. Darry, though half his age, towered over him. He didn’t look so confident anymore. “Where’s my girl.”

You held Soda tighter. Your old man must have really hurt you because Soda knew you were one tough girl. You stood up to Dallas.

“You need to leave.” You could just see through to the living room since Darry’s bedroom door was slightly open. Darry was fully blocking your father’s view of the house.

“I’m not leaving without that little brat.” He snarled, his cockiness returning. “An’ if you don’t bring her out here, I’ll call the cops. That wouldn’t end too well for you, would it son?”

“I said leave.” Darry growled again, his muscles tensing. You knew what could happen if the cops came. So you broke away from Soda.

“I’m right here, so you can leave these boys alone.” You snapped, stepping out before Darry or Soda could grab you.

“Thought you could run around with these bums and I wouldn’t come for you?”

“How did you even know where to find me?”

“Those brats of Beth’s started hollarin’ as soon as I raised a hand at her.” He smiled cruelly.

If you hadn’t been standing there, Darry would have slugged him. You just wanted to get this over with.

“Are we going or not?” You frowned, defeated.

“Y/N, you can’t go with him!” Soda cried, trying to reach for you, but you jerked away. Tears pricked at your eyes again.

“I have to, Sodapop.”

“I don’t think so.” A new, hard voice joined the scene. You looked over your dad’s shoulder and saw the rest of the boys circling the house; Two-Big, Steve, Johnny, Ponyboy, and Dallas. Dally was the one talking. “You know something, fellas? I don’t like old me. And I really don’t like old, stinkin’ drunk men hanging around my neighborhood. Especially one that yells in my buddy’s face.”

“I ain’t afraid of a bunch of rats from Oklahoma.” Your father spat, but you could tell he was a little shaken. Dally pulled out a blade.

“How about a New York rat?” He hissed, getting real close to his face. Your dad’s eyes went wide, shifting from the blade to the circle of tough looking boys around him. Then he looked at you.

“You ain’t worth the trouble.” He decided, carefully moving around Dally and walking into the night.

The whole group gathered around, hollering and cheering over their success. Soda pulled you into a tight hug and kissed you right there in front of everybody. One of them, probably Two-Bit, whistled.

“Ponyboy, where the hell have you been?” Darry asked, ruffling his youngest brother’s hair. Pony just shrugged.

“I saw that mean old guy standing out here, so I ran and got Johnny and then we got everybody else.”

You pulled away from Soda and glanced around at the other boys.

“You all came here… for me?” You gasped, a different kind of tears now welling in your eyes.

“As soon as I heard Soda’s girl was in trouble, I got the hell over here.” Two-Bit said and Steve nodded in agreement. You felt your heart swell. Soda’s girl.

You looked at Dally. Without him, it might not have worked. He just shrugged coolly and lit a cigarette.

“I had nothin’ better to do.” But you could tell that, underneath, it was more than that. Johnny gave you a small smile.

“You’re one of us now.”

“And we stick together.” Ponyboy added. And they were right.

“Alright, I’d better call Beth and tell her everything is gonna be fine.” Darry announced. “You all get in here. I’m sure we’ve got more chocolate cake somewhere.” This was followed by more cheers and stampeding feet as the gang rushed inside.

Sodapop gave you the biggest, bright smile yet, taking your hand and following the boys to the kitchen.

Neverland is home, to Lost Boys like me

And Lost Boys like me are free.

General Tag: @rae-gar-targaryen; @takemepedropascal; @childhood-imagination; @mylovegoesto; @yellowbadgergirl; @itmejado; @suckmyapplejacks

#rob lowe #patrick swayze #the outsiders #80s imagines #sodapop curtis #sodapop curtis x reader #darry curtis #dally winston #Ponyboy Curtis #johnny cade #stay gold #peter pan #lost boy #neverland

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og-danny-dorito · 4 years ago

Text

wAIT and here’s some explanations

Hannibal :

- I mean it’s pretty obvious why he’s up there he’s a god at cooking

- just don’t ask where he gets his meats cause he gives you this really weird smile and side glance before giving a super cryptic answer

- but the salad was good so it’s cool

Ash Williams :

- this man was BORN to cook

- attachable hand parts means he can make an attachable knife extension for his hand and that makes chopping shit 50000% faster. not only that, he now has an excuse to wear his “kiss the cook” apron he found again recently

- the attachment possibilities are endless- spatulas, knifes, spoons, shut maybe even a PAN if you’re feelin REALLY fuckin wild-

Bubba Sawyer :

- his momma def taught him how to cook No I Don’t Take Constructive Criticism

- he’s the master at grilling tho since it’s more of his element, but unlike Hannibal if you ask where the meats came from he’ll just straight up point to the body part of the person and move on with his task of grilling his good ass BBQ

Candyman :

- I mean he cooks well cause he’s a refined gentleman whom likes anything artistic, so Of Course he taught himself how to cook

- doesn’t do it v often but still likes it a lot even tho for some reason, no matter the circumstance, he always manages to burn the bread in the toaster

- damned 21st century technology (his best element is a gas stove since it’s what he’s used to)

Thomas Hewitt :

- v v good at making like a few dishes hearty dishes in particular but can’t really do much else besides those???

- likes to mix it up sometimes with experimentation if he has the time or patience but most of the time he just leaves it to Momma

Stu Matcher :

- his parents are barely ever home because of work so like he usually ends up eating boxed macaroni or frozen pizzas if there aren’t any leftovers in the fridge or, his personal favorite, hot dogs

- he usually just invites billy over for takeout tho so they can spend time together and billy doesn’t have to be around his dad

Jason Vorhees :

- the guy may not have to eat but he misses his momma’s cooking okAY-

- he’ll bust out the cookbook with her own little annotations sometimes just to try and replicate it for nostalgias sake, and even though he can’t really get all the ingredients, he’s gotten really good at remaking some of his personal favorites

- it’s not really the same though, not how he remembers at least

Chromeskull :

- I mean he can kinda cook but like barely though since he has other people to do it for him since he’s ✨rich✨ and stuff

- he can follow box instructions and make grilled cheese with an iron tho if that counts

Billy Loomis :

- can’t cook to save his life but knows how to make boxed macaroni

- he would be a pretty good cook if he had the patience to go through the process of learning

- but his tolerance is so thin that he just says “fuck it” as soon as shit hits the fan and leaves to go to Stu’s house for takeout

Vincent Sinclair :

- surprisingly he actually doesn’t do most of the cooking since him and Bo just eat fast food or sometimes cooked stuff if one of them is feeling up to it

- but he knows how to make a few things and actually knows how to modify recipes to make them better based on deduction and shit like that

- kinda lost on what to do tho so it’s best just to give him a task if you need help

Asa Emory :

- two words: microwaveable lunches

- my G got this shit down to a T on when it’s the right time to take them out, how long it takes to cool down, what cool down applies to what food- he’s basically got everything memorized since he eats them so much

- they’re quick and don’t waste his time, so it’s good enough to him

Bo Sinclair :

- no. fuck no.

- there’s no way in hell hes walking in there- he’s not even all that terrible at cooking but he has this weird habit of setting things WAY to high on the guise that they’ll cook faster, but he gets sidetracked so easily that they burn and he gets pissed off halfway through

- the best course of action is to just avoid that shit show all together and let him eat his sandwich meat and shredded cheese at 3 am in peace

Brahms Hellshire :

- good fucking god- having this oversized man-child in the room while you’re preparing food is like having one of those annoying as dogs who are always at your feet when they smell food

- he’s all up under you for pieces and bits of what you’re cooking and Does Not Stop until you give him what he wants

- and good luck giving him tasks to do to keep him busy, the ass is just gonna drop it and leave if he gets bored or get sidetracked with something else pretty quickly since he doesn’t like labor

Billy :

- what the FUCK is a stove and why are you putting the meat on there

- wait,,, you’re supposed to eat that meat while it’s COOKED? :000 what the hell, can he have some too then? he’s so used to just eating everything by itself since like no one cooked for him as a kid that he just consumes all that’s in sight and moves on like a little rat

- you can give this man an entire piece of raw chicken and he will eat it in front of you like it’s normal cause he’s That Kinda Bitch

Michael Myers :

- y’all sayin this dude is good at chopping and stuff on the assumption that he would willingly cook or enter a kitchen for anything labor intensive in the first place

- like yeah you’re doing great with making that brisket but there’s no way in hell hes chopping those carrots for you

- and yes he’s still eating some, try and stop his 6’7” ass. go ahead, he’s waiting. that’s what he thought now move he’s hungry

Freddy Krueger :

- no, no no no. he’s going to burn the house down if you leave him to his own devices. and not unintentionally. he will burn down the house and the food will be burnt and charred and inedible

- leaving him to just watch over it will result in a worldwide catastrophe, it’s best to just keep him OUT of the kitchen no matter how much he begs you for pieces of what you’re making or steals parts of your ingredients

- the spray bottle will resolve that now resist and keep him OUT

507 notes · View notes

mcwriting · 4 years ago

Text

Live from New York, it’s Saturday Night!

In which the reader is the musical guest at Saturday Night Live the same week Tom Holland is hosting.

Ship: Reader x Tom Holland

Word Count: 5747 (what in the heck?? my longest piece ever lol)

Warnings: Mild alcohol consumption

Rating: K

Preface: I mention the NBC page program, which is like an intense internship/fellowship with the company where college grads work with at least 3 parts of the company over a year to get job exposure. A lot of famous actors and actresses were pages!

***

Walking into 30 Rockefeller Center on Wednesday afternoon was a surreal experience for sure. As a young NBC page led you through hallways and up to studio 8H, you were getting butterflies.

On one side of the hall was a sign for studio 8G, which hosted Late Night with Seth Meyers, but the page turned the other way, guiding you through doors to the Saturday Night Live studio.

There was hustle and bustle all around you as she took you to your green room, which had a sign printed with your name on it over an NYC skyline. You almost pinched yourself.

You had known for about a month that you’d be performing as the musical guest for SNL the upcoming weekend, but now that you were here for your first rehearsal, things were getting real.

When your manager had asked if you wanted to play the show, she’d been met by your enthusiastic “YES! Are you kidding me?!” It was even better when she mentioned who the host would be:

Tom Holland.

You’d watched every season of SNL since you were probably in middle school. You could easily name off every cast member but would have to remember to keep your cool until after Saturday.

Another thing you’d need to stay cool about was Spiderman himself. You had the biggest crush on him, but who your age didn’t? He was charming and British, disregarding physical features. You were most nervous to meet him.

The page let you put your things down and took you to Lorne Michael’s office where he and some of the production team wanted to talk to you about your set. You’d only get two songs, but one of the writers also asked if you’d want to be in a couple sketches, too.

Later that evening would be the normal pitch meeting, where writers who’d spent all Tuesday afternoon and night into the early hours of Wednesday writing finally got to show the host and cast their ideas. They’d narrow it down to eight, so you were surprised they wanted you in not one, but two sketches.

It wasn’t difficult to say yes to that. You wouldn’t be present for the pitch meeting, however, because in just a few short hours you’d be heading down to studio 6B to film a segment for Jimmy Fallon’s show.

Your management team stayed behind at the hotel to work on details for a couple concerts you had and were planning to head up to the studio before your interview.

After the meeting, you were shown around to familiarize yourself with the studio and stage before starting your first rehearsal. For one song, it would be just you and a piano, but the other song would have a band playing while you sang and did some limited choreography.

You sat in front of the keys of a beautiful grand piano, stretching your fingers. Someone requested you play one of your songs, so you looked around, as if asking for permission. Everyone in the room nodded for you to play, so you began the tune of your favorite song from your album.

Your voice wasn’t warm and there wasn’t a mic on you, but you got lost in the lyrics and chords like you always did. By the song’s end, you’d drawn a small crowd. They clapped and you blushed when you finished, closing the lid and standing to do a sheepish curtsy.

Most of the small crowd dissipated and you were talking to some crew about stage setup when someone interrupted you.

“Sorry to bother, but that was incredible. Can’t wait to hear how good you’ll be this weekend,” said a male voice with a distinct London accent. You turned to find Tom Holland right in front of you.

“Oh, well, thank you! I- I uh, didn’t expect to meet you so soon,” you stuttered, thrusting out a hand. “Y/n y/l/n.”

He gripped your hand firmly and shook it, nodding his head once, too.

“Tom Holland. You know I was excited when I heard you’d be performing the same week I host. The last film I did, we listened to your music like, all the time. You could say I’m a fan.”

Was this real? Tom Holland was a fan of you!? You chuckled.

“I could definitely say the same for you. I love your movies. ‘Been a fan for years.”

You both smiled happily and Tom was about to respond when the page who’d been showing you around the whole time came up.

“Sorry to interrupt, but Miss y/l/n, they’ve asked to get your measurements in costuming if that’s okay.”

“Oh! Yes of course!” you said to her, then turned to Tom. “Sorry. It was nice meeting you! See you around?”

“Of course! Nice meeting you also!”

As the young girl led you away again, you missed where a younger brother of Tom said to him,

“Think you’re in love yet?”

***

After an eventful visit at the Tonight Show that included you and Jimmy playing box of lies and performing one of your songs for the audience, you headed back up to 8H alone.

You’d remembered leaving something in your dressing room and had let your team go on back to the hotel without you. You’d felt confident that you could sneak back to your hotel safely without causing a big ruckus. It was only a few blocks away.

You were digging in your bag for your phone when you bumped into someone. Each of you said a quick “oh, sorry!” before looking to see who the other was.

It was Tom again.

You hadn’t realized before, but his room was the one right next to yours. It made sense, both of you being guests and all, but you were still caught off guard.

“Headed out?” he asked. You felt yourself blushing a little.

“Yeah, well. I just finished at Fallon’s and they don’t need me back here until tomorrow so I’m heading back to my hotel to order pizza for my whole team and then crash,” you laughed.

“Oh yeah? That sounds about like what we’re doing,” Tom gestured back to his brother and best friend, who you shook hands with gladly.

You talked as you wound through the halls and quickly realized you were all staying at the same place.

“That’s crazy! We were just going to get a cab if you want to just come with us. I’m already paying for it, so...” he offered. You were surprised.

“What? No, no, I couldn’t just ride on your coattails like that,” you started.

“No seriously, y/n. It’s fine! We’re literally all going to the same place and no one can bother us from a taxi cab. You don’t even have to talk to us if you don’t want to.”

You looked at the other two boys questioningly and they nodded, encouragingly nodding for you to accept the offer.

“Okay, okay! If all of you are fine with it, I’ll come.”

They cheered and you continued in happy conversation as you headed downstairs. A doorman called a cab for you and you piled in. Harry took the front and you offered to take the middle, sandwiched between Harrison and Tom.

Never in a million years had you expected to be in such close proximity to one, much less all, of them. It was a short drive and the driver took you to a back entrance, the place celebrities usually entered.

You still weren’t quite used to the star life. Up until you’d hit it big, it was normal for you to do pretty much everything yourself and stay in relatively cheap hotels like any other person.

Now, your management team handled most things and you were staying in five star places with secret celebrity entrances and prices that would probably make your grandmother faint.

Inside, you’d also realized you were on the same floor, both of you staying in large suites used by many elites over the years. You parted ways, anticipating seeing each other in the morning for rehearsals and later that evening when you’d be doing Seth Meyers’ show together.

***

The studio was buzzing when you entered Thursday morning. Your small team headed straight for the dressing room as you were taken away to a sketch read. Both sketches the writers had asked you about had been greenlit, so you were excited to work on them

“Morning, y/n. How was the pizza?” Tom asked cheekily when you first walked in. A couple of people passing by gave strange looks but said nothing.

“Well, who doesn’t love a good New York slice, huh? I’d say it was pretty darn good. And you?”

“We ended up getting room service, but pizza’s definitely next on my list,” he joked before you were handed scripts and asked to review them. The writers and cast were trying to figure out some basic spacing as you looked over your lines and cues.

You finally got to work rehearsing the two sketches. You broke a couple times when Kate landed a punchline and when Beck accidentally tripped.

When they decided to move on from those, you where whisked away to wardrobe and makeup to shoot "bumper” stills and videos, the photos and clips between sketches and commercial breaks.

You were excited to see how they envisioned your style and personality and would bring it to life. The photographer collaborated with you and shot some really incredible photos, both serious and goofy.

Next you were back in music rehearsals figuring out more about the staging and running some diagnostic sound checks. Once lunchtime came around, your stomach was growling.

You just barely caught Tom as you went for lunch, he was finishing up as you built your plate. As it always seemed, you only got a few words in with each other before someone was dragging Tom off for his own photoshoot.

You got to talk to Harry and Harrison for a little bit, too, until your manager asked to have a quick meeting about your schedule. Once you were free, you were taken to costuming to try a few things on and figure out hair styles that would fit the show.

There were more music rehearsals and you read the new scripts (as they had already been rewritten twice now). You were pretty tired by the time someone asked you to head across the hall to prepare for Late Night.

You grabbed a quick bite to eat on your way out of 8H and finished is by the time you were in the doors of 8G and a page led you to your green room, once again located next to Tom’s.

Since you were both doing SNL together, you and Tom were going to be interviewed together, but you also had the added bonus of being the musical guest again.

You only needed to rehearse a couple times to get the sound down (it’s not like it’s live, so you could easily restart if something went wrong). Once you were finished, they brought in the studio audience and you got a chance to go back to your green room and chill for a little while.

Seth had a couple other guests, so while you were waiting, you knocked on Tom’s door to greet him and discuss the talking points each of your management had given Seth.

As the in-house band was warming up, Seth came into the room.

“Well I didn’t expect to see both of you in here,” he joked, shaking both of you hands. Tom had been on the show before, but this was your first time meeting the host.

After a couple minutes, Seth was informed of the time and made his leave, going out to meet his audience and begin taping. After his monologue and the first guest, you and Tom were called to the stage.

“Now for our nexts guests we have both the host and musical guest of this weekend’s Saturday Night Live, Tom Holland and y/n y/l/n! Come on out here!”

Tom gestured for you to go ahead of him, so you walked out, waving to the cheering crowd. You took the seat nearest to Seth’s desk.

“Well hello, there. Good to see you two,” he greeted as you settled in. “Welcome back, Tom, and welcome for the first time, y/n.”

“Wait this is your first time here?” Tom asked incredulously. You laughed.

“Yeah! Up until a few months ago like, no one knew who I was. Not even Seth!” you poked right back. Seth jokingly agreed.

The interview went well, both of you telling some funny stories and explaining how the week was going. Finally, you cut for a commercial.

“Alright we’ll return with y/n and Tom after this short break!”

You were right back to the interview after the commercial “break.” Towards the end of it, you all got off on the subject of alcohol.

“You are 21, right?” Tom asked you. You rolled your eyes and gave an exaggerated hair flip.

“Yes, I am of the legal age. You should know as well as anyone what it’s like to have a baby face,” you roasted, causing the audience to go “ohh!” and Tom and Seth to raise their eyebrows.

“Wow looks like we’ve got a little rivalry now. The real question is who can handle their alcohol better. I think we oughta bring you two back for my day drinking segment to settle this!”

Both of you overconfidently pointed at yourselves when Seth asked who was better with alcohol.

“Now that’s an idea I can get behind!” you exclaimed before the interview finally wrapped up and you got ready to go sing. Tom and Seth stayed at the desk while you performed, which thankfully only took one shot.

As you wrapped up the show, you gave final waves to the audience and then headed offstage. You and Tom walked through the halls together and Seth caught up with you after finishing his outro.

He thanked you both for being on the show, you took a few pictures, then talked for a while. Seth was eventually called away to look at something, so you said your goodbyes to him and continued towards the green rooms.

“You were great tonight. Your voice is phenomenal,” Tom said to you. “and honestly I can’t believe you haven’t been doing talkshows that long. You’re a natural.”

“I think it has a lot to do with the fact that I love to talk about myself,” you quipped. “But seriously, thank you. Everything leading up to now has happened so fast, it’s hard to really gauge if things are going well or not.”

“I can relate to that. It’s hard, but having my family and brothers helps keep me grounded, you know? Harrison, too. They know that they can call me out and, yeah, I might get mad at first, but I understand that they’re keeping me from getting a big head.”

“Yeah I can’t imagine how overnight it must have been for you. My family and friends definitely don’t miss the chance to poke a little fun here and there to keep my ego down, too. You know, it’s nice talking to someone who understands for once. I love them, but unfortunately they’ll never fully get what it’s like, but you do,” you smiled.

You talked a little more, then spilt off to actually go to get ready to leave the building for the night. The upcoming Friday was going to be a long one.

Once again, you let your manager and assistant and everyone leave ahead of you. Regardless of whether you would hitch a ride with Tom again, you could find your way around easily.

You waited by the door until you heard their voices nearing and the boys came into the hallway.

“Oh y/n, you’re still here, too,” Harry said.

“Yeah, I was trying to decide what to do for dinner tonight before I head back to the hotel.”

“Well we’re going to grab some pizza if you want to join us,” Harrison offered happily, causing Tom to look at him funny.

“Y/n probably doesn’t want to be bothered by us all day every day and plus, she had pizza last night, I’m sure she doesn’t want it again. Sorry, y/n, don’t feel pressured by this div,” Tom said apologetically.

“Honestly, I could eat pizza everyday, so that’s not an issue, and I honestly love hanging out with you guys. You remind me of my friends back home. If y’all want to eat together, I seriously would not mind.”

“Really?” Tom asked incredulously, then recomposed himself. “Well, yeah, sure. We were gonna head back to the hotel to change clothes and then figure things out from there, is that okay?”

“That sounds perfect, except I’m paying the cab fare this time.”

***

In most situations, a group of guys you’d only known a couple of days asking you into their hotel room would be a major red flag, and it probably still should have been, but you threw caution to the wind and went to Tom’s suite anyways.

Harry answered the door and let you in, and inside you found Tom and Harrison on the floor of the living space drinking beers. They both raised their cans up to you as you came in.

All three of the boys were in simple sweats and t-shirts, similar to you in your leggings and sweatshirt. It wasn’t much later that Harry went to the lobby to retrieve the pizzas they’d ordered and you were all digging in, seated around the coffee table talking.

You all discussed random things, poking fun at each other like you were old friends. It was like they’d already accepted you as one of their own.

“How you think this weekend’s gonna go, y/n?” Tom asked between swigs of his ale.

“I’d say pretty good. I’m hella nervous though. SNL is like its own universe.”

“You can say that again. This is like nothing I’ve ever done before.”

“Oh, come on. You two are both going to do great Saturday. Don’t think too much about it and just have fun,” Harrison encouraged as you continued eating.

Throughout the evening, you couldn’t help but pick up on the way you and Tom kept making eye contact. It was brief, but it was different than how you and Harry or Harrison looked at each other. There was something else there.

Your stomach fluttered. Who else could say that they spent an evening drinking with their biggest celebrity crush? And then continually exchange flirty looks?

At one point Tom even tossed a wink at you after cracking a joke, causing your heartbeat to quicken momentarily.

After getting lost in conversation with the boys, you realized the time and prepared to excuse yourself back to your own room. The coming morning was going to be an early one, after all.

“Oh man, I better head out. We’ve got a long day ahead of us,” you commented, stretching as you stood up. The boys followed suit.

“Wow I didn’t even realize how long we’ve been sitting here,” Tom added.

“Yeah. Thanks again for letting me come over tonight. I haven’t gotten to do something like this in a while so it’s nice to just spend time with people who I don’t pay to hang around me all day, you know?”

“I understand and definitely can agree, since these divs are kind of paid to hang around me.”

You all laughed as Tom walked you to the door.

“Well. See you bright and early...” you trailed.

“Yeah, see you then,” Tom answered, awkwardly sticking out his arms for a hug. You obliged, squeezing your arms around his neck as his held your waist.

And goodness did he give good hugs.

***

You were definitely tired walking into 8H Friday morning. The caffeinated drink in hand helped a little, but late night beers paired with waking up early didn’t quite go hand in hand.

It wasn’t really a hangover either, since you hadn’t been fully drunk, but it didn’t help the exhaustion from traveling, working the past two days, and a lack of sleep.

The first thing you had to do was rehearse your songs for Saturday as the set team worked on transporting and putting together large set pieces that had been made at the navy yard in Brooklyn.

Tom and the cast weren’t far away, figuring the live show with costuming and quick changes along with doing some pre-filmed sketches. The writers were continually making adjustments and figuring out how things would be done.

They eventually called you over, too, to rehearse your sketches and film one of them. You had to get used to the costumes and cue cards and blocking of each. There had been some minor changes as well, so you had to be quick on your feet.

By lunchtime, all the cast took a well deserved break to sit and have a bite. The writers were having to shuffle around while they tried to eat as you and Tom sat down to talk some more.

“Hey, sorry to bug you, but do you guys mind if I take a picture or two for the SNL social media accounts?” a page asked while you were munching on sandwiches.

You and Tom looked at each other and shrugged.

“Fine with me,” you answered, Tom giving a similar reply. The two of you leaned in next to each other, holding up your sandwiches and laughing.

A few photos were snapped and you and Tom approved of them to be posted online. You thought nothing of it as you went to more rehearsals, working through the show’s order and trying to get down timing before Saturday’s dress rehearsal and show.

You couldn’t help but laugh watching the sketches, as this was your first time seeing the ones you weren’t a part of. Tom’s comedic timing and dry British humor paired well with the material he was given.

When the day came to an end, you were looking through instagram and gathering your things. You went to SNL’s page and put the post of you and Tom together onto your story, adding the text “Can’t wait for everyone to see my favorite sandwich partner host the show tomorrow!”

As before, you thought nothing of it and posted the story, heading out the door to ride back with Tom and the boys.

***

At the hotel, you and Tom had decided to not hang out for the evening since you’d be having a late, late night Saturday and wanted to get some sleep. You opened up social media as you laid in bed to wind down.

You decided to look at the picture of you and Tom from lunch again and read some comments, hoping there would be some funny ones and whatnot.

Instead, you found hundreds of comments saying “omg ship” and “my two faves together” and “this couple would be everything!!”

You were honestly shocked to see people saying that about you, especially since you had never heard of your fans indicating that they wanted to see you two together.

Twitter was also buzzing over you and Tom’s picture, some fan pages just talking about either one of you, while others also talked about shipping you.

In your heart, you kind of enjoyed it, since you were hardcore crushing on Tom now, but you had no idea how he felt.

Did he like you back? Did he just think of you as just a friend or acquaintance? Was he secretly dating someone and you were just reading too much into it?

It was much to think about, so instead you closed your phone and fell into a deep slumber.

***

You didn’t have to be in the studio as early as the past days since dress rehearsal wasn’t until 8pm and the show started at 11:30. You felt better rested than the day before, but butterflies were constantly erupting in your stomach.

You and Tom caught each other at the building’s entrance and went up the elevators together.

“Ready for tonight?” you asked, tapping a foot anxiously.

“Absolutely not. You?”

“Same here. Not only is it going to be watched by millions, but some of the most important people in my life are coming and I’m freaking out a little.”

“Oh yeah?” he asked softly. “And who would that be?”

“Well, my parents and some friends from home. I can sing in front of sold out stadiums but I still get nervous if I know they’re in a crowd. It’s stupid, I know.”

“No I totally get it. My parents and brothers will all be here, too, and my heart races when they watch my work. The best advice ever given to me, though was ‘turn nerves into excitement,’ and that’s exactly what I’m trying to do.”

You nodded and smiled up at him.

“That is pretty good. Thanks,” you replied as the elevator doors opened.

The halls were bustling with what seemed like every employee as you headed to your green room. It wasn’t long before you were being thrown updated scripts and rehearsing again.

Finally as dusk turned to night, the dress rehearsal audience seats began filling up. You were bouncing nervously in the hall as you watched the cast begin the cold open on a monitor.

“Nervous?” a male voice asked quietly next to you. It was Tom, of course. You bobbed your head from side to side.

“Excited,” you replied cheekily. He smiled and was about to say something else when a crew member came by to lead him to his starting place for the monologue. He gave a quick wave before heading backstage, instead.

The dress rehearsal went okay, certain jokes and lines being cut and rearranged by the end for time. Thankfully the audience received everything well, for the most part.

Your own music and sketches felt like a rush, but you were proud. Tom’s advice had really gotten to you, because you were bubbling with excited anticipation for 11:30 broadcast to begin.

There was about an hour between dress and the actual taping, so you scarfed down a few bites of food and tried to shake out some jitters. You also sipped some caffeinated hot tea and did vocal runs to stay in tip top shape.

Your friends and family stopped by the green room to say hi before they joined the audience, giving you hugs and encouragement for the evening ahead.

As the clock neared 11:30, you were walking down a hall already dressed for your first song when you almost bumped into Tom.

“Oh, hey! Great job at dress! You’re gonna do amazing,” you immediately said, making him beam.

“Thank you! And you too! Your voice is on fire tonight, as if it’s ever not.”

“You haven’t heard me try to sing sick, then. I sound like a diseased animal.” You shook your hands and head to dismiss yourself. “But, uh, earlier I was gonna tell you ‘break a leg’ and then I remembered you used to dance, sooo... merde.”

Tom raised his brows and chuckled.

“You know that phrase too?” You nodded. “Well then merde to you, too. Oh, and I was wanting to ask if tonig-”

Tom was cut off by someone once again needing to drag him away to prepare for the show, causing you both to toss waves at each other again. Maybe he’d finish his thought later.

This was it. The real deal.

You took that as a cue to find your place by the monitors until after Tom’s monologue and the commercial break, when you’d start moving to stand with the band.

The cold open landed well, and you felt chills hearing two of the cast yell,

“And live from New York, IT’S SATURDAY NIGHT!”

The classic jazz music of SNL played over the intro and Tom made his way down the iconic steps to do his monologue.

Your heart fluttered seeing him stand on that stage with a wide smile, waving at the crowd. He was dressed in a blue suit and his curls were styled just right. He looked incredible.

The monologue landed well and you felt an even bigger flutter as you heard Tom lead into commercial, saying the iconic line,

“We have a great show for you tonight! Y/n Y/l/n is here! So stick around we’ll be right back!”

With that the camera panned out and cut, and chaos began as the crew moved everyone to set the first live sketch. In the meantime, a prefilmed sketch played, the one you had participated in.

The audience cheered and laughed at your surprise appearance in the sketch, which made you feel really good. You had moved now to a place where you could see the stage in person.

The camera panned in as the audience applauded and the next sketch began. Even after having seen it multiple times that week, you couldn’t help but laugh as the ridiculous character Tom played so well.

When they cut to another commercial break, it was your time to get ready to sing the first song.

Your stomach fluttered like it always did before a show, but Tom shot you a thumbs up before the break ended and boosted your confidence. A camera was pointed in his face as he calmly said,

“Ladies and gentlemen, y/n y/l/n,” as he gestured towards you.

The lights came up and you began playing, and you became lost in the music like always. It came and ended quickly, and suddenly you were listening to the cheers of the audience. You waved and bowed in thanks as the cameras panned again.

Up came the weekend update, your favorite part of any Saturday Night Live. The jokes for the segment were typically written on Saturday, so many of them were new to you.

Tom came and stood next to you during the update with a bowl-cut red wig dressed in khakis and a sweater vest over a button up. You looked him up and down amused.

“Your performance was amazing,” he whispered.

“Thanks. You’re doing great out there. They love you,” you whispered back.

“I sure hope so. Hey I’ve been trying to ask if-” he started, but then was cut off by someone grabbing him and leading him towards stage for the next sketch. Your stomach fluttered again.

What could he possibly want to ask me?

The live sketch transitioned into a prefilm and then you were up again, this song was more energetic and included some choreography, and you felt confident in the shimmering gold bodysuit and boots you were wearing.

You happily danced and sung after Tom reintroduced you to the crowd and got a large round of applause. There was only one sketch left of the show and you were in it, so the team rushed you into a quickchange booth offstage to put on your costume and a quick wig.

The sketch began and you stood to the side nervously. When your cue came, you burst onto the stage clumsily, as directed by the script. Your character made some inappropriate comments to Tom’s which garnered you many laughs again.

It was satisfying.

Once the sketch ended, all that was left were the goodnights, so you were again rushed off to change into a cute jumpsuit and reaffix your hair. Tom came out in a blue suit with the jacket unbuttoned, a black tee underneath.

You rushed to take your place next to him as other cast members filed in around you, Lorne standing in the middle of the room watching to make sure everyone came out. The audience applauded as the music played and camera panned.

After they gave the final countdown, Tom began giving thanks to many people, from cast and crew, to family, and to you.

“I want to give a huge thanks to tonight’s musical guest, y/n y/l/n,” he exclaimed, gesturing to you. The crowd cheered and you laughed and waved, giving him a joking elbow.

“I love you all! Goodnight!” he finally exclaimed.

With that, the music was brought up and everyone began hugging as the credits rolled. You immediately turned to Tom and he to you, both of you throwing arms wide.

You wanted to hug him forever, but realized that it would look fishy and there were many people you still wanted to hug and thank.

Both of you pulled back, giving each other a quick “good job!” before turning to others.

***

You were finally offstage and had said quick goodbyes to your family, who wouldn’t be staying for the afterparty. As you headed towards the greenroom for the last time that night, you were stopped by Tom.

“Hey! Y/n,” he said, putting a hand on your shoulder.

“Oh my gosh there you are!” you said, turning to give him another hug, this one more emotional and less performative.

“I’m serious y/n, you were incredible. I know I’ve said it a million times but you have a real gift. Not to mention your acting skills,” he said into the crook of your neck.

You pulled away to look at him, arms still loosely wrapped around him.

“Well thank you, but you were great too. Everyone loved you. I loved you out there.” You paused for a moment, arms sliding from his shoulders as you continued to walk down the hall. “You know I had a lot of fun this week. Doing this and just hanging out. I was really nervous to meet you.”

“I did too, and yeah, we were all super nervous to meet you, too. Like I told you before, we listen to your music a lot. But, uh, that being said. All night I’ve been trying to ask if you’d like to go to the afterparty with me?”

“Oh yeah that’s perfect! Are the guys coming too?” you asked enthusiastically, not detecting the nervousness in his voice.

“No, no. I mean, yeah they’ll be there but...” he stopped and you followed suit. “I’d like you to go with me with me. And ideally leave with me... alone.”

Your eyes widened and breath hitched. Now it clicked. He was asking you out.

“Oh! Well then... I’d like that very much.” You smiled.

“Yeah?” he asked, incredulous.

“Yeah,” you answered.

Let’s just say you were singing a different kind of tune that night once you left to your empty hotel room “with him.”

***

A/N: omg omg omg I started this story forever ago but finally got around to finishing it! No new marriage project chapter this week, I thought I’d just post this to hold y’all over ;) Thanks for reading!

Permanent tag list: @jackiehollanderr, @one-big-fangirl

If you’d like to be added, pls message or send an ask so you can verify that I’ve added you!

#live from new york it's saturday night #snl au #tom holland #tom holland imagine #tom holland fanfiction #tom holland oneshot #tom holland x reader #harrison osterfield #Harry Holland #tom holland spider man

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spaceskam · 4 years ago

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14 for Roswell New Mexico

thank you! and thank you for waiting a week! I’ll add the ao3 link whenever I get the chance to post it over there. I hope you like it!

title tuesday instructions

tags/warnings: mentions of being hit by a car, vague descriptions of injuries, slight hurt/comfort, happy ending and light vibes

14. ad meliora [ao3]

Alex watched the way Michael’s chest rose as he took a deep breath.

He was pretty. More than pretty. Gorgeous. Genius. Funny. Amazing. A billion other things that Alex barely had the words for. And he was breathing and Alex thought that was an incredible plus, all things considered.

Alex reached out with a shaky hand and brushed his hair off his forehead, hating the way the sweat made it stick. No matter what Alex did, he kept sweating. That was apparently a good thing, sweating off his injury or whatever. That’s what Michael’s mom said and Alex definitely trusted her, but still. It made him nervous.

“Hey,” Alex whispered, “If you’re hearing me, don’t wake up or anything, get your beauty sleep, I just want you to have good dreams. So imagine we’re laying in a field together and I’m braiding your hair with flowers. Dream about that and nothing bad, oaky?”

Alex wasn’t even sure why his parents were letting him in here, letting him touch him and talk to him. He was the reason Michael was hurt and he made that very, very clear, and yet his mom invited him over the second he got out of the hospital.

Alex’s eyes drifted down to the stitches on his swollen nose and his black eyes that came with it. He swallowed harshly and followed down to his arm that was in a big cast and then to his leg that was badly bruised but miraculously not crushed. The doctors said he got lucky that that was all that happened, but Alex’s guilt hadn’t faded.

“You’re so dumb, Guerin. Why would you do that?” Alex asked, voice cracking again. He didn’t want to cry in front of him, didn’t want to upset him, but he couldn’t help it. He took a deep breath and bowed his head on the bed, careful not to disrupt him.

“Alex, sweetheart,” Mrs. Nora’s voice called after a few minutes. Alex sat up straight and wiped his eyes, looking to the door where she was standing with a soft smile. “Did you eat anything for lunch?”

“I’m not hungry.”

“That’s not what I asked,” she prodded gently. Alex swallowed again and shook his head. “Alright, I’ll make you a sandwich while I make Michael’s soup. Turkey, mayo, and pickles, right?”

“Yeah, but you don’t have to,” he insisted. She shook her head.

“Don’t worry about it. Thank you for keeping him company, I’m sure he’s going to be excited to see you when he wakes up,” Mrs. Nora said softly, leaving the doorway. Alex sniffled and looked back to Michael.

“I know I’ve said it before, but your mom is nice,” Alex whispered, dragging his fingertips over the inside of his forearm. When he shifted, Alex pulled his hand away.

Alex said patiently with his immense guilt and worry as his breathing changed to alert that he was waking up. He wanted to hold his hand and assure him he wasn’t alone, but he had no idea what would classify as too much contact. He hadn’t seen Michael awake since he was laying on the concrete with his arm as an unnatural angle and a busted nose. What if he didn’t want to see him? What if he didn’t want him to come at all?

They’d been friends for a while now, but did that even matter after one friend pulls the other out of the way of a moving car and gets hit himself?

And, worse, did it even count when Alex’s feelings had been something more than friendly for months now?

Still, Alex waited by his bed as Michael slowly woke up, groaning and gasping when he moved the wrong way. Alex sat closer, waiting to help anyway he could. Michael opened his eyes slowly.

“Hi,” Alex whispered. Michael turned his head to face him just slightly. His eyes looked even worse when he was awake and it made it difficult for Alex to ignore how badly his face was fucked up. He was so pretty. This was cruel.

“My ass hurts,” Michael whined, shifting more but wincing when it just made it worse.

“I’m sorry. It’s probably because you’ve been laying down so much,” Alex offered, sniffling. Michael sighed, shifting just enough to look at Alex. All it did was make him tear up again.

“Hey, stop that.”

“I can’t help it. I’m sorry. This is all my fault,” he said, wiping his face on his arm. Michael reached out with his good hand to grab Alex’s and brought it to his chest.

“It’s not your fault, you weren’t the one driving the car. Besides, I’d do it again,” Michael said like it was that easy. God, why did he have to say things like that?

“Yeah, well, fucking don’t. That was, like, super fucking traumatizing,” Alex insisted. Michael huffed a weak laugh, his thumb rubbing across Alex’s knuckles.

“It would’ve been traumatizing to stand by and do nothing while you got hit, so I guess we’re both traumatized no matter what,” Michael said, “Besides my dad is gonna sue their ass off.” Alex rolled his sore eyes and scooted a little closer.

“I guess I’ll just be careful to not walk into traffic next time,” Alex said.

“Eh, it’s alright. My dad is a bomb ass lawyer with bomb ass lawyer friends. We could make a career of lawsuits if you can stomach a broken bone here and there,” Michael teased. Alex smiled shakily.

“Did that concussion of yours make you think saying bomb ass was cool?” he asked.

Michael scoffed and tugged on his hand until Alex came even closer. His hand went to the back of Alex’s head and led him to rest against his hip. He carded his fingers through his hair casually. Alex swallowed hard and tried not to think about him doing this in the back of his truck while they did homework. Tried not to think about how much he felt for him when he did things like this. How much he felt for him always.

“I’m okay, Alex. Don’t be upset,” he whispered warmly. Alex squeezed his eyes shut.

“I’m trying.”

“I know,” Michael said warmly. Alex laid there, trying to keep his composure. He hated this so much. “Bright side. I always wanted a nose job.”

“No you didn’t,” Alex laughed softly.

“Yeah, you’re right, but, hey, not gonna complain I got one, you know?” Michael insisted. Alex squeezed his eyes shut, turning his head so his face was buried in his side. Michael’s hand stayed in his hair.

He was alive, he was breathing, he’d be okay. That’s all that mattered. Alex just had to keep reminding himself of that and keep hope that he could swallow the guilt for long enough to suffice.

Eventually, Mrs. Nora came back with soup and a sandwich and Alex sat up, trying not to seem too embarrassed that he’d just been laying on her very hurt son, but she didn’t even comment. She sat the tray down on his nightstand.

“Do you need help?” she asked. Michael groaned.

“Mom, I can eat by myself,” he said. Mrs. Nora rolled her eyes and kissed his head, letting him sink into the bed a bit more.

“Alex, you’ll help if he needs it, won’t you?”

“Yes, Ma’am,” Alex said, though he was sure she already knew that. She smiled easily.

“Alright,” she said, “Yell if you need anything.”

“Okay,” Michael said, “Love you.”

“Love you too.”

Mrs. Nora left them alone again and Alex found himself staring at the food. He still wasn’t that hungry, but he was sure Michael was. He had been asleep for a long time.

“Do you need help sitting up?” Alex asked. Michael smiled sleepily at him.

“No, but I really don’t want soup again. I swear she thinks I injured my internal organs which I didn’t,” Michael said, pushing himself up slowly. He groaned quietly and took a few heavy breaths, so Alex quickly moved to stuff the pillows behind him to make it easier. He rested against them. “Thanks.”

“Do you want my sandwich and I’ll eat your soup?” Alex asked. Michael looked at him.

“Don’t just give me your food out of guilt.”

“I’m not,” he insisted, “I’m giving you my food due to me playing favorites.”

A tired smile slid across his face and Alex breathed a bit easier at the sight.

“Well if you insist.”

Alex carefully moved the soup out of the way without spilling it and then put the sandwich and napkin on Michael’s lap. He used his good hand to raise it to his mouth and he groaned again, only this time it wasn’t out of pain and that was good.

“You’re the best, Alex,” Michael said through a mouthful of food. Alex smiled and reached for the spoon to try and eat something. “Hey, you didn’t even tell me to close my mouth. Stop giving me pity. Or, like, at least if you’re gonna do something like call me pretty so my ego doesn’t fade while my face is fucked up.”

“You’re very pretty,” Alex said. Michael probably would never realize how much he meant that. “But also close your mouth.”

“That’s my boy,” Michael said matter-of-factly.

And, yeah, things would be okay. Michael would get better. And Alex was going to be there every step of the way.

#malex #malex fic #michael guerin #alex manes #roswell new mexico #my fic #title tuesday

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amanda-glassen · 3 years ago

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Hi! Could you write prompt 103. "I don’t know anyone else who can make me feel this way" about Jerena? Thanks.

Thank you so much for the request. Once again, I'm sorry that my drabbles turn into full-on one shots. Anyway, I hope you enjoy this non-drabble drabble.

Jamie was a romantic. Whenever she imagined proposing to the woman she loved, she had imagined roses, maybe a candlelit dinner, and some champagne, but she hadn’t counted on the woman she’d eventually propose to being anything like Serena. “Proposals aren’t one-size fits all,” Mrs. Benson had told her the night before. “Just enjoy your day together and you’ll know when the moment is right. Serena is so in love with you. She’s going to say yes no matter what.”

They had gone sight-seeing as a family when they first arrived in LA. With Serena and her family, she had seen Hollywood Boulevard, the Griffith Observatory, Venice Beach, LACMA, the Santa Monica Pier, and the Sunset strip.

“I don’t want you to be a tourist anymore,” Serena told her one morning when Mr. and Mrs. Benson offered to take Alex and Olivia to Universal Studios. “Amusement parks and beaches are fun, but I want to show you my LA.”

Her girlfriend was wearing ripped jeans, leather flip flops, and a gray baby tee. Her outfit was nothing like the dresses and heels she wore in New York, but she liked this side of her. Serena was comfortable and having fun and, when they walked hand in hand along Westwood Boulevard to get to Serena’s favorite cookie shop, Jamie realized Serena was in her element. She had moved out of this city years ago but it was still as if she had never left.

“This is where Ollie had her first cookie and first taste of ice cream,” Serena told her as they sat at a table outside eating chocolate chip and vanilla ice cream sandwiches. “I used to come here a lot with my dad when I was a little girl. If you go down the street, there’s the Regency Bruin Theater. My dad’s a producer, which I know I’ve already told you that, but whenever one of his movies had a premiere, it’d be at that theater and I’d get to go with him.”

Although they had been dating for a year, there was still so much about her past that Serena hadn’t told her and this trip made her feel as if she was looking at a scrapbook of her girlfriend’s life.

“I grew up in Beverly Hills, on Mulholland Drive,” Serena told her. “That’s not too far from here. We can go there next.”

“Mulholland, one of the most famous streets in LA?” Jamie asked in disbelief. “Why do you say it like it’s not a big deal?”

“Because it isn’t,” Serena shrugged. “It was kind of lonely. Yes, it’s a very expensive area, but I wanted the kind of childhood that you had. I wanted to be able to run around outside and play with other kids in the neighborhood. My siblings and I didn’t have that opportunity so we just kept to ourselves. My parents still live there part-time and they say the house is mine if I ever want to move back, but I’m happy in my two-bedroom apartment where Ollie has friends in our building and knows all the kids on our block. I love seeing her happy like that. Tomorrow night, we can come back and go to the Mulholland Scenic Overview. You’ll get the best view of the city that way. I’ll have Lexie show us. She knows it better than I do and I want Ollie and Alex to see it, too.”

With every location they stopped at, Jamie got another glimpse into her girlfriend’s life and, although this newfound information made her fall even more in love with Serena, she still hadn’t found that place that made her feel like ‘This is the one. This is where I ask her.’

Jamie’s tour ended at an old house in South Pasadena. “Don’t tell me your family owns this house, too?”

“No,” Serena chuckled. “But I wish they did. No one owns it right now. Babe, grab the blanket from the trunk.”

“What are we doing here, Ser?” Jamie asked as she opened the trunk. “This place is kinda ominous.”

Serena took the blanket and led Jamie to the front yard. “Take a closer look and tell me you don’t recognize this house.”

“Babe, I swear to you I don’t recognize this house.”

Serena spread out the blanket and urged Jamie to lie down with her. “Do you remember our first time?”

“What kind of question is that?” Jamie pulled her in as close as she could. “You’re asking if I remember the first time I got the full Serena Benson Experience?”

“I’m done with you.”

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry,” Jamie said before kissing her. “Yes, I remember. Our first time was on Halloween night. The best Halloween of my life, I might add. All of that pent-up tension you had, I thought you were gonna break me but in the best way.”

Serena rolled her eyes. “Do you remember what we did after? What movie did we watch?”

“You were lying on top of me and you were naked. My mind was on how I could get round two so no I do not remember what movie we watched.”

“Fair enough,” Serena leaned in to kiss her. “My mind was also on round two.”

“Babe, I know what movie we were watching. I was just trying to get a rise out of you. We turned on the TV and Halloween was on. You told me it had been your favorite since you were a little kid. You even dressed as Michael Myers when you were 7. I never forget anything you tell me about yourself. I love learning about you. In fact, I want to spend the rest of my life learning about you.”

“Hmm. There’s not much to learn.”

“Yes, there is,” Jamie insisted. “There’s so much to learn about you and so much to love about you. For starters, I love that you brought me to the Halloween house for the sheer fact that it was the movie we watched after our first time. You’re a bit of a romantic in your own way.”

“Take that last part back,” Serena said playfully. She kissed Jamie again before resting her head on her chest. “I know it hasn’t always been easy, but thank you for loving me. I never expected to find you. After what happened with...I never expected to fall in love ever again. But falling in love with you has been nothing like falling in love with him. You’re my best friend and my perfect partner and I hope this isn’t premature, but when I look at you I feel as if I’m looking at the woman I want to spend the rest of my life with.”

“Babe, are you crying?”

“No,” Serena responded, although Jamie could hear her sniffling. “Jamie, I’m not used to this. I don’t know anyone else who can make me feel this way.”

When they left the beach house that morning, Jamie’s focus was on the tight, ripped jeans her girlfriend was wearing and the short, baby tee that hugged her in all the right places. Although that same woman was currently in her arms, Jamie felt as if Serena wasn’t the same. With every location they stopped at, Jamie was given more pieces of the puzzle that was Serena. They were in front of a house that was featured in a movie they watched after their first time, which was the first time Serena had trusted her enough to give herself to her completely. Her mom was right. When it’s the right time and the right place, I’ll know.

“Ser?”

“Hmm?”

“What you said earlier about hoping this isn’t premature, it isn’t,” Jamie said as she held her close. “I waited for you to say it first because I didn’t want you to feel rushed, but from our very first date, I knew I was going to fall in love with you and it wasn’t long before I did. I love everything about you, Serena, and I know things aren’t always easy for you, but I promise to love you twice as much on those days that you can’t love yourself. This path that you’re on toward healing from what happened to you in college and what happened to you when you were only thirteen, you don’t have to go at it alone. You never have to go through anything in life alone. I know you’re strong and independent, but I want you to know that I’ll spend the rest of my life protecting and loving you and our Olliegator. I want us to be a family.” She stuck her free hand in the front pocket of her jeans, holding tight to the ring. “I love you so much Serena and I know the way I love you right now cannot even compare to how much I’ll love you tomorrow or the day after that.” Without giving her nervousness another thought, she slipped the ring on Serena’s finger. “Serena Michelle Benson, will you marry me and let me spend the rest of my life loving you?”

Serena sat up while she looked at the ring, which prompted Jamie to sit up as well, although she didn’t know why because it was a mere three seconds before Serena pounced on her and knocked the two of them back down again. “Yes,” she said in between the sweetest kisses. “Jamie, I want nothing more than to be your wife and spend forever by your side. I can’t wait to tell Ollie we’re going to be a family.”

Jamie looked up at her overly excited fiancée. “Babe, she already knows. Who do you think gave me permission to marry you?”

#jerena #alex and liv: the wonder years

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7-wonders · 5 years ago

Text

Almost Feelings

Summary: Just when things were starting to get back to normal, an accidental confession by Michael sends shockwaves through your relationship.

Word Count: 3148

A/N: Another chapter of Mad Love, done. Thanks for sticking with me, and I hope this doesn’t suck too much.

Life manages to slowly reassume a state of relative normality. After Dinah Stevens had checked you over and declared you free of Satan’s influence, you were allowed to actually leave your bed and once again have freedom. Well, limited freedom. Michael has been wary of letting you out of his sight, terrified that Satan will once again attempt to control you. Your father-in-law hasn’t made an appearance in your lives since the night that he possessed a cocktail waitress, which is what scared both you and Michael the most.

Michael had fully been expecting to be swept down to Hell for a thorough scolding about “spurning” the gifts being given to him. As the days passed with none of the usual indicators that Satan was near, your worry started to wane. Surely he had better things to do than stalk you and wait to once again try the plan that had already failed? Michael, on the other hand, wasn’t too sure. If there’s one thing he knows about the being he’s never met, it’s that he’s extremely patient.

The gilded cage in which you’ve spent the past days under Michael’s watch has become increasingly more confining. Even if you weren’t outwardly expressing your discomfort, Michael would be able to sense it. Although he wants nothing more than to make sure you’re safe at all times, he knows he can’t keep you locked in the house. Maybe if he was less of a lovestruck Antichrist, he would have no qualms about it. The power dynamics in your relationship have changed, for better or for worse, and he cares about your wants far too much for him to disregard your feelings.

It’s only been a few days since your bout of “food poisoning” when Michael finally agrees with you that it’s safe to return to class, but it feels as if it’s been months. Even in the largest house you’ve ever inhabited, cabin fever still runs rampant. As he watches you run out the door to get to campus, Michael feels a tugging in his chest that he’s come to associate with you. Watching the one person you love most in the world leave the safety of your protection is a pain that, unfortunately, Michael’s become all too familiar with.

While Michael’s dealing with emotions he’s never had before, you’re nearly drunk on the freedom that you’ve been denied lately. It’s not exactly warm out, but the windows in your car are rolled down and the wind whips your hair around your face as you sing along to the radio at the top of your lungs.

Classes, of course, you could do without. It’s the little moments, getting to laugh with your friends in class and holing up in your favorite hidden corners when you have a break, that make the monotony of lectures bearable. Michael, predictably, breaks the established rules of communication by texting you to make sure that you’re okay at least once an hour. Prior to momentarily being Satan’s puppet, this would have irritated you to no end. Now, you understand Michael’s motives in a way that you previously hadn’t.

“You look a lot better,” Mallory says in place of a regular greeting when you meet up with her in the library after class.

“As opposed to my regularly horrendous appearance?” She rolls her eyes, obviously not appreciating your joke.

“You know what I meant.” You slide into the seat across the table from Mallory, tugging your textbook and laptop out of your backpack. “The endless bout of food poisoning is finally gone for good?”

“I think so. I started feeling human a couple of days ago, and this is the first day I haven’t felt like crawling into a hole and dying since I got sick.”

“Well that’s good. I almost thought you were avoiding us after revealing your secret.” You look up, panicked at what she could mean before realizing that she means your living arrangements.

“Oh! No, I wouldn’t avoid you guys, because it’s not that big of a deal.”

“Really? Because with the way that Michael looks at you, you would think that you were married.”

You laugh nervously and pretend to search for a pen in your bag, attempting to hide your anxious expression. “Like I’ve told you before, we’re just friends and he was nice enough to help me out when I was facing a tough time.”

“It’s not a bad thing if you do have feelings for him, (Y/N).”

“I just don’t get why you and Kate are stuck on this idea,” you grumble.

Mallory’s gaze softens when she sees how her comments affected you. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make you mad.”

“I’m not mad at you, I promise. Let’s just work on homework before we get too off-track.”

Of course, this plan works for a good twenty minutes, giving you just enough time to read and take notes from one chapter of your text before your attention is drawn away from the task at hand. Mallory had merely asked for your help in identifying the proper use of ‘affect’ versus ‘effect,’ which almost immediately led to discussing topics that have nothing to do with schoolwork.

“I think we need to focus on the real issue here,” you comment as Mallory laments Kate and Brennan’s latest argument, this one about moving in together.

“Which is?”

“Your own love life, of course.” Mallory groans, making you pout. “Mal, you haven’t mentioned any sort of romantic interest once since I met you.”

“Because I have better things to do than spend my time swiping on Tinder.” You can tell that there’s more she’s not divulging, and a good minute of remaining silent while sneaking glances at her has the brunette finally speaking again. “I...my last relationship didn’t end well at all.”

“Was this while you were still living in New Orleans?”

“Yeah. Actually, my decision to transfer here is what led to our break up. She wanted me to stay, I wanted to go, and that was that.”

You feel for her, but an interesting bit of information captures the majority of your attention. “‘She!’”

Mallory flushes, attempting to stutter out an answer, but you’re far too excited to allow her to speak.

“Ooh, that doubles the potential dating pool for you! I know so many people who would be so interested in you, and they’re just the ones that I can think of off the top of my head.”

“While I appreciate your excitement, I’m just not sure I’m quite ready for another relationship yet.” You nod in understanding, but Mallory’s phone chiming ends the conversation before you can suggest slowly diving back into the dating pool. “Ugh, I’ve gotta get going.”

“Yeah, I should probably go too. I have way too much homework that I haven’t gotten started on.”

“Wanna make a deal?” Mallory asks as you walk towards the parking lot together.

“A deal?”

“Mhm. I won’t bring up the Michael issue anymore if you won’t try and drag me out to go and meet new people.”

You have to hand it to her; she’s extremely good at bartering. “Alright then, we have a deal.”

Shockingly, Michael’s not waiting at the door for you when you arrive home. You find him in the kitchen searching for food, although he does look like he’s trying not to seem like he’s waiting for you.

“Hey,” you greet, hopping up on the counter and pulling Michael into a hug that he begrudgingly returns.

“Hi. How were classes today?”

“I survived, so…” you trail off, shrugging.

“And you’re feeling okay? Nothing odd happened to you?”

“No, I’m great.” Just to prove how great you are, you shove Michael away from you. “Could someone possessed by Satan do that?”

“No, I suppose not.”

Getting off of the counter, you snag a sandwich from a plate and take a very well-deserved bite. “Can I ask you a question?”

“You’ve asked me many questions about many things, all without asking beforehand if you can.”

“Well it’s a touchy subject, and people usually like to make sure that it’s okay to ask.”

Michael looks at you like he’s not sure he wants to know what you’ll ask, but nods anyways. “Ask away, then.”

“You’re treating this whole situation like it’s your fault.”

“That wasn’t a question.”

“Sorry. Why are you treating this whole situation like it’s your fault?”

“I’m not.”

Wrinkling your nose, you cross your arms over your chest and glare. “I thought you hated lies.”

“It wasn’t a lie,” he scoffs.

“Michael, you’re terrified about me leaving your sight and you do anything and everything I ask. It’s okay to feel like it’s your fault, but I need you to know that it’s not.”

“How is it not my fault? It happened at an event that I took you to, it was my father who poisoned you, and it’s because you’re an unwilling part of this prophecy that I dragged you into.”

“Are you your father? Are you the one who made me drink that potion? Did you take advantage of me when you could have?”

“No, I’m not, and I didn’t, but I’m the reason he tried it in the first place!”

The room falls silent, and you watch as Michael’s eyes widen. You wouldn’t have thought anything about his statement in the first place if he hadn’t shown any fear in his eyes, assuming it to just be a blanket statement since Satan’s his father. Now, you’re starting to suspect there might be something more.

“What do you mean, ‘you’re the reason he tried it in the first place?’”

“I-I--” Michael shakes his head as he stammers, taking a cautious step back from you.

“Michael,” you snap, patience running thin.

“Fuck, (Y/N)!” He runs a hand through his hair, and you’re shocked at his uncharacteristic use of a swear. “I was impatient and frustrated, and so I sought out my father’s advice for help. I knew it was wrong the moment he gave me a solution, but he was so angry that I even thought about turning down his ‘gift’ that I...I took it.”

“You knew he was going to give me that drink at the Cooperative event?” You’re oddly calm, something that frightens Michael more than any amount of anger could.

“No! No, I knew nothing about that.”

You take your time digesting this information, letting Michael stew in his anxiety as your jaw clenches tightly. “So there was another time, then?”

“Yes, there was.”

Thinking through every interaction you’ve had with Michael in the past couple of months, you can only think of a couple of occasions where he’s acted stranger than normal. Only one of those, however, involved Satan’s ironic choice of apples.

“The day where I had the weird dream that I couldn’t remember, and then you freaked out when I grabbed an apple from the fruit bowl,” you say bitterly. “You put that fucking apple there!”

“I didn’t have a choice--”

“Yes, you did. You contacted your father because you were pissed I wasn’t your adoring little wife, you put that apple in the bowl, you watched as I ate what you thought was your father’s gift, and you kept this little secret from me!”

The lights flicker ominously above you, a silent warning to watch yourself before Michael loses control. Today, however, those signs of Michael’s immense powers couldn’t mean less to you.

“I wanted to protect you. The second you grabbed that apple, I regretted even contacting my father in the first place. I assumed that, by not telling you in the first place, that would mean you weren’t living every day in fear.”

“You don’t get to decide what information I should and shouldn’t know, especially when it directly concerns me and my life.”

“I know that, and you need to trust me when I say that I am so, so sorry for the way that this happened.” Michael reaches a hand out to try and physically convey just how sorry he is, but you shove him away as you shake your head emphatically. The tears brimming in your eyes physically cause him pain, and all he wants to do is feel one of your hugs as he wipes your sadness away.

“How do you expect me to trust you anymore? You lied to me and put my life at risk, solely for your own selfish reasons,” you cry out, spinning on your heel and marching up the stairs.

“I don’t expect you to trust me, and I’ll spend every day trying to earn that trust back--”

“No,” you spit, coming to a stop at your bedroom door. “This isn’t something that you can just apologize a few times for and then everything is okay again.”

Michael watches helplessly from the threshold of your room, not willing to go in as you grab a bag and start throwing clothes into it.

“I know you’ve never really seen the dynamics of any sort of a healthy relationship, but surely even you should know that this is not the way that people are treated.”

“What are you doing? Are you leaving?”

You ignore his question, walking into the bathroom before returning with an armful of toiletries. “You say that you’re in love with me? What you did is not love. Love is honesty, and protection, and admitting your mistakes when you make them. Love is not lying to save face, or believing that you know better than the person you claim you love.”

“(Y/N),” Michael says brokenly, hoping to somehow find enough of a gap in your sentences to attempt and repair what’s been broken.

“You’re not supposed to hurt those that you love, and you hurt me.”

“I do love you, and I never wanted any of this to happen!” Now Michael’s crying too, blue eyes stormy as tears trail down his cheeks.

“You don’t love me, Michael. You love the idea of what I’m supposed to be for you. You think that I’m just going to wake up one day and fit into this role that supposedly is mine by prophecy, but I’m not. It’s been almost a year; either release me from this sham of a Satanic marriage or kill me, because I will never be what you want me to be.”

Michael feels like his entire world is crumbling around him as you zip up your bag and toss it over your shoulder. He has to do something to fix this, but it’s as if he’s frozen in place. You can’t even look him in the eyes as you pass, knowing that you’ll lose your resolve if you do.

“Just because your father doesn’t love you doesn’t give you the excuse to have a skewed idea of love.” You pause at the front door, hand on the doorknob as you look back at him. “I need to be alone for a couple of days. Don’t bother trying to contact me, I won’t answer.”

Closing the door behind you, you can hear Michael’s screams of agony as you run to your car and fumble with the keys. The key’s barely in the ignition before you’re driving away, angrily swiping tears from your face to attempt to keep your sight clear.

How could he betray you like this? How could he sit by, hearing you thank him profusely for saving your life, when it was all his fault? Your mind whirls with a cacophony of questions, all of them leaving behind a bitter disappointment.

He’s supposed to be your friend. Up until today, you had thought things were going well, and you genuinely liked your Satanic roommate. Now, you don’t know if you can ever even trust him again. This deception stings more than you would have expected. After all, you used to despise him; why should this hurt you when you had expected the bare minimum? Maybe this is all your fault for placing your trust in a person who should not be trusted under any circumstances.

You’re too lost in your thoughts to register movement out of the corner of your eye until it’s too late, a small deer jumping directly in the path of your oncoming vehicle. Gasping, you slam on the brakes in an attempt to save the animal. Startled by the sound, the deer dashes across the road into the tree-line. You should be in the clear, but a quick rainstorm earlier in the evening has left the roads wet. As the car hydroplanes across the road, you quickly realize that there’s no stopping its path.

The car careens through the deserted road, crashing in the ditch and coming to a stop when it hits a tree. Although you try to brace yourself, the force of the crash overwhelms any strength you may have. Your head smacks against the steering wheel, and though you only lose consciousness for a second, it’s frighteningly disorienting to wake up again.

Your head screams in pain as you lift yourself up, and you can feel a warm liquid coursing down your face. Gingerly touching the source, you examine your fingers and confirm that you’re bleeding. Throwing open the car door, you stumble and land on your hands and knees. When you attempt to stand, the world tilts under your feet, so you settle from crawling away from the wreckage.

Of course this would happen to you when you’re attempting to put some distance between you and Michael. Honestly, you wouldn’t be surprised if this crash was orchestrated by Satan himself to voice his displeasure at the situation. You try your hardest to crawl towards the road, hoping that a lone car will spot you and get help, but your arms give out underneath you and send you falling to the ground.

Staring up at the darkening sky, you can only hope that this concussion isn’t the kind that includes internal bleeding. There’s a chance for you to make your way to safety if you can regain your bearings, but the dropping temperatures make you worry that you’ll be out in the cold all night. Just as you’ve resigned yourself to freezing to death, the sound of feminine voices approaching you gives you hope.

“Over here, help me!” you call weakly, attempting to sit up to see who’s out there.

Four women walk towards you; an older woman with crimped red hair, two blondes, and a brunette. One of the blondes bends down beside you and, instead of calling for help, smiles at you with perfectly-painted pink lips as she strokes your bloodied hair away from your face. You panic as you feel yourself losing consciousness again, wide eyes darting around the group as you try to ask what’s going on. Right before passing out, you lock eyes with the brunette and feel a flicker of recognition.

“Mallory?”

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#michael langdon #michael langdon imagine #michael langdon x reader #michael langdon x you #american horror story #american horror story imagine #american horror story apocalypse #american horror story imagines #ahs #ahs imagine #ahs imagines #ahs apocalypse

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wayward-mikaelson · 4 years ago

Text

Centuries--Two

Word Count: 2207

Pairing: Dean X Reader

Characters: Dean, Sam, Cas (Mentioned), Jack (Mentioned), Reader, Michael (Mentioned), Hezekiah (Mentioned)

About: The Reader has some dirty memories from her dream sex with Michael. The Reader and Dean share a passionate reunion after sharing feelings of being scared that this was dream. The Reader then learns how long she has been back for and gets a name from the time she can’t seem to remember.

Warnings: Language, Fluff, Angst, Smut, Oral Female Receiving, Fingering, Rough Sex (Protected), Fantasizing, Nipple Play, Drinking,

A/N: Requests are open until 7.11.2020 until 11.59pm USA Central time. Send your GIFS or pictures with what you want!!

A/N 2: Want to notified first on the next part and or on future fanfics? COMMENT BELOW YOUR FAVORITE DEAN GIF.

Forever Tag List: @hobby27 @donnaintx @myinconnelly1 @elansaidaris @magssteenkamp @pinktree84

Dean/Jensen Tag List: @akshi8278 @sandlee44

*18+ CONTENT. YOUNGER THAN 18 MOVE ALONG

**DO NOT COPY AND PASTE MY WORK ANYWHERE WITHOUT ASKING ME FIRST AND WITHOUT GIVING ME CREDIT. I WORK WAY TOO HARD ON MY STORIES TO HAVE MY WORK STOLEN.

***ALL WORKS ARE POSTED ON IG, WATTPAD, AND AO3. ALL UNDER THE SAME USERNAME. GO SHOW THEM SOME LOVE

I shower until the water runs ice cold. Reluctantly, I turn the water off and grab hold of a and dry off. Before I wrap up in it, I stare at the mark that was left by Michael over a year ago. You would think that maybe, just maybe that it wouldn't show up when I came back. I hesitate to touch it and when I do, nothing happens. I'm not sure weather to be happy or sad as I think back to that dream. Well, it wasn't a dream according to Cas, It was the real deal.

I think about how Michael had me pushed up on the wall as his lips were pressed to mine. I think of how at the snap of his fingers, I was naked sitting on top of him. I think how he pushed me down on the couch and ripped his pants off and was inside of me in seconds. I close my eyes as I remember the rough thrusts of Michaels hips and the digging of my nails into his back. Almost identical to the way Dean had thrust into me but there had been inhuman force.

I snap out of day dream and wrap up in the towel and walk out of the bathroom. I make my way to my old room. A room that I barely remember. I enter the room to find that it's been left the same way I remember leaving it. I go to the wardrobe and pull out a tshirt and pants and throw them on. This isn't the time to day dream, I need to figure out how the hell I am even alive and how long I've been alive for.

Walking down the hallway, I pass Dean room. I see him sitting on his bed just staring into space. He looks like hell and I know he blames himself for it all. Saying yes to Michael lead to me killing myself. But we needed that win that day and it backfired in true Winchester form. Dean notices me and smiles. I walk in and sit on the bed next to him. I take his hand in mine and hold it tight.

"I haven't had decent sleep in the last few days and I am tired as hell," Dean lifts my hand up and kisses it. "But, I am scared as fuck to fall asleep and wake up and know that all of this could be a dream."

I smile at him knowing that I feel the very same way. "If this were a dream, Dean Winchester," I use my free hand to cup his face. "Nightmare or not, it's the best dream to have." I lean in and softly kiss him. Dean takes his free arm and wraps it around me and lays us down on the bed. I wiggle my way up. Dean gets a confused look on his face. "The door silly," I close the door and come back and straddle. "Don't need to go scarring your baby brother or Cas or Jack do we now?"

Dean is leaning back just staring at me. I slowly take my shirt off and watch as his eyes rake over what bare skin there is. He slowly lifts his hands to my skin and feels every inch of my stomach and back. He unclasps the bra and removes it and looks at my bare breasts. He takes his hands and squeezes them, making my head roll to the sound. I give a small hum and hang my head back when I feel him take one in his mouth. I smile as Dean sucks and licks my nipple making it hard under his grip.

Deans arms are around me the moment I sigh his name. He lays me down on the bed and I can see his dick pressed hard up on his jeans. I need it inside of me. I need to feel him thrusting inside of me again. It's been so fucking long since I've felt it. Instead of taking his pants off, Dean undoes my pants and slowly pulls them off along with my underwear. I am very aware of how wet I am with the air blowing around the room from the ceiling fan. Dean notices and gives a lustful smirk.

"I love to see that I still have this affect on you," He kneels down and kisses my leg from the knee to my thigh. When he gets to my thigh, I am aching so bad for him my legs shake. "Now let's test the waters, shall we?" Deans hand touches my folds and he begins to rub slow but firm. I grab my breasts and give them a squeeze. Then he slips in one finger making me sigh again.

"Oh so wet for me," Deans is soft and rough. He teases a second and third finger as he wiggles the one finger inside me around. It's making me squirm.

"Please," I whisper as my hands squeeze my breast again. "Dean, please."

"Please what?" His firm voice asks.

"Fuck me with your fingers." I gasps as his one finger starts toying around with my g-spot. "Make me cum all over your hand." Fuck, I missed this. I missed the feeling of being wanted. I missed the feel of being had by someone that loves me. I missed this part of being alive. As if reading my mind, Dean inserts two more fingers and begins to push and pull in and out. I sigh and let our a soft moan.

It doesn't take long before I am clawing at the sheets and arching my back. I whimper softly, pleading to cum but, Dean doesn't let me. Instead he teases me by getting me as close as I can and then stopping. I sigh dramatically each time only to hear him chuckle. "You're impossible," I tell him. Then I fell him go down on me and I squeak.

I reach down and hold his face in place as he fucks me with his tongue and sucks on my clit. My hips begin to rise up and down as I feel myself start tightening up. I wrap my legs around Deans neck to keep him place and to press him deeper into me. I grip his hair tight as my soft moans become louder.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck," I yelp loudly as he inserts two fingers. Now, I am being fucked by both his tongue and fingers. It can't get better than that. My breathing is started to become ragged and I'm practically yelling for Dean to not stop. To keep going. Then I cum.

"Oh my fucking God, Dean," I scream as he continues to thrust his fingers in me and lick up the results of my orgasm. I let my head fall back as I come off my high. I close my eyes when I feel Dean start to kiss up my body and reach my lips. I wrap my arms around his neck and smirk against his lips. "Your turn." I push him over and rip open his pants and pull both pants and under down. His dick springing up to life.

Dean rolls over and I hear him rummaging in a side drawer. He sits up and I see the condom package in his hands. I take it from him and rip it open and slowly roll it over his length. He groans as I do. Feeling myself get wet all over again, I stand up and sit over him and slowly lower myself on his length until he was balls deep inside of me.

I slowly start to move my hips up and down while making eye contact with him. He throws his head on the bed. "Fuck," he groans. His hands grabbing my hips and slamming me down on him. Making me yelp. I have no time to react to what happens next.

Dean pulls me down and wraps his arms around me. He rolls us over to where he's on tops of me. He sits up and pulls my hands from my chest and pins them above me. With a wicked grin and a sexy raised eyebrow, he slowly pulls out and teases the both of us with just the tip. Then he slams himself back in making me moan and scream at the same time.

Dean continues this until he raises my leg up onto his shoulder. Be both make eye contact at the sudden change in angle and position. He start to thrust deep, hard, and fast. Fucking me right into the mattress. We both are mess of moans, groans, screams, grunts, the whole bit. Then a few deep thrusts later, Dean yells out my name and I scream out his.

We lay there on the bed. Dean has his arms around me. "I'm convinced that this is my own personal heaven now," Dean says into my hair. His voice is soft and I know he's about to crash soon. I chuckle and roll over and give him a light kiss on the lips. His eyes are closed but I see him smile a bit before he starts to breath deeply.

I roll out of the bed and realize my legs feel like jello. Dean will be proud to know that he fucked me to the point that my legs were shaking afterwards. I look around the room for my clothes and get dressed. I smooth out my hair and make my way out of the room to the kitchen to make me some food.

"Wow," I hear Sams voice enter the kitchen after me. "I'm surprised you can still walk after all of that. Where's Dean?" I'm surprised too, I think. I am even sore down there too. But, it's a good sore. The one that makes getting fucked hard worth it.

"Sleeping," I say pulling out stuff to make a sandwich. "Do you know where Cas is? I need to look at my side again. I still have the mark Michael gave me for some reason."

Sam nods. "Cas and Jack dipped out when they started to hear you and Dean. Not sure if they will be back tonight. What did Dean say about it?"

"I don't think he saw it," I say putting the finishing touches on my sandwich. "If he saw it then he chose not to say anything." I take a bite and just marvel at the taste of the food. Almost better than the sex I just had. I reach back into the fridge and pull out two bottles of beer. I crack one open and I also marvel at the taste of it. It felt like forever since I had real food and a good beer.

"So," Sam says pulling out the phone I gave him. "I got a hit off the phone. The person you were talking to, their name doesn't exist so it's a total fake but, you kept calling them Hezekiah."

I sudden get this sharp pain in my head when he says that name. I grab my head and close my eyes. I start to see a figure with dreads and dark skin. As fast as the pain came it left. I realize I am sitting on the ground with my head in between my knees. Sam is by me.

"Are you okay?" He asks worried. "You just collapsed out of no where."

I rub my head a bit to make sure the pain is really gone. "I think so," Sam helps me up. "I know that name for some reason." I think back on that name. Its really familiar. Then I remember that moment I'm grabbed in the field trying to get Dean back from Michael. The angel that grabbed me was the same Hezekiah that Michael called out.

"Do you remember the name of that angel that Michael yelled at to get through the gate?" I ask Sam.

"No not really. Why?"

"It's the same damn fucking angel," I take a drink of my beer again. "Anything else?"

Sam slides the phone over to me. "Just that it's hard to track the number you had been texting or calling for the past year. So I hard reset it and made it even harder to track. Oh and new number too."

"What?" I ask staring at Sam and I pick up the phone. I want to make sure I heard him right before freaking out.

"I said it's harder to track now and you have a new number." Sam says looking back at me before he tries to leave the kitchen.

"No," I say walking around the island. "What you said before that. For how long I'd been in contact with this bitch."

It finally clicks in Sam's head. "You've been back for a year."

That right there. I've been back that long. No memory but a name. A name when it was said, caused my head to hurt like I was being tortured. I hold the phone up and know that some of the answers that I needed were erased but maybe for a good reason. If this phone had been its original state who knew if I was already being tracked here. Cas needs to get back here so that he can try and dig deep into my brain.

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fearfulkittenwrites · 4 years ago

Text

“Are you awake?” and “I... I want a hug.”

Summary: Damian has been getting bullied by his classmates for a while now. When he finally reaches a breaking point, the boy tells Dick what happened, and his older brother gets mad. He can't believe Damian, the boy he loves so much, the boy he helped raising, is going through the exact same thing he had to endure years ago, in the same school. You'd think the problem would be solved by now.

Word Count: 4951

Warning! There’s some racism expressed in this work! (I didn’t want to put it in the tags because I think it would be rude to put fanfic on a tag that is mostly used for more important things, so I thought it best to let you know here)

Notes: Hello! This work has been beta'd by @3ambird , I don't know how you make time to help me, but I'm so glad you do!! Thank you. Also, if you haven't checked out their works, please do. Their recent fanfic is Dick Grayson centric and it made me cry. One of my favorite works ever.

(Also, to the anon who requested the “I want a hug” prompt with Dick and Bruce, I’m not ignoring you! It should be the one up next, okay? I just had this one sitting on my computer for a while, so I had to post it first, hahahaha!)

Damian took a deep breath. Mathematics was always the worst class of the day. He took his seat, middle row, third chair. The classroom was filling up, and there was no one behind him yet. That gave him a couple of minutes to close his eyes and try to gather his strength.

The problem wasn’t the subject. Damian already knew all that he was being forced to re-learn, making all of his classes nothing but a nuisance. The problem had a first and a last name: Warren Pruitt.

Damian felt his desk being roughly pushed, and opened his eyes.

“What? Did I disturb your prayers?” Warren smirked.

“Fuck off.” Damian answered. He felt his stomach twist, wishing he could solve this like he solved things as Robin.

Warren took his seat behind him, purposefully shoving his desk against the back of Damian’s chair.

“Refrain from doing that, Pruitt.”

“Or what? You’ll blow up the school?” His little clique laughed loudly, making explosion sounds in the back “Allahu akbar! Ha ha ha!”

“You can’t even be racist properly.” Damian rolled his eyes. “I’m not Muslim, you idiotic naked ape.” Another shove sent his chair inches forward, pressing his stomach against his desk. He pushed back, and was shoved forward again “Stop it.” He gritted his teeth.

“Shut up, Al Ghul.” Warren sneered, a cruel smile on his lips.

Damian had never felt any embarrassment towards his heritage. He took pride in both of his last names, the signs of two powerful dynasties that had combined to create him. He was a symbol of strength because of them, and he was proud of it. But the way it was said, like it was an insult, like it was tainted, like it made him lesser, left a bitter taste in Damian’s mouth, so he corrected the boy.

“Wayne.” He growled “My last name is Wayne.”

“We’ve been over this already, Al Ghul.” One of Warren’s pack of imbeciles spat as Warren leaned forward against his desk, pushing Damian’s stomach into the wood, hurting him.

“Yeah, we have.” Another boy, Charles Du Pont encouraged, watching from the desk to Damian’s left. Damian gritted his teeth.

“You can try all you want, but you’ll never be anything more than the arab boy you are. You’re lucky your father is enough of a moron to let you in.” A fourth kid - Michael Chase, Damina’s mind supplied - leaned in, mocking him.

“Yeah. My dad said he’d throw you on the streets, let you rot in one of Gotham’s orphanages. It’s what you deserve for trying to take our places.” Warren said.

The bell signaling the classes beginning rang, right as the teacher walked in.

.................................

The words kept ringing in Damian’s ears for the rest of the day. He doesn’t know why, but he can never find the proper words to shoot back at them. And he doesn’t know why it all bothers him so much.

Going back home, Damian threw his backpack into his bedroom and walked through the halls, stopping when he saw Tim’s open door, both him and Duke reading through an essay.

“-tt-” Damian clicked his tongue from the door “Can’t do your own papers by yourself, Drake?”

“Shut up, brat.” Tim answered.

“Whatever. Where is Grayson?”

“Sleeping.” Tim answered “Why, what do you want?”

“It’s none of your business Drake.” He crossed his arms, leaving and continuing down the hall.

He rubbed away some tears forming in his eyes. Of course Dick would still be sleeping, he was on patrol until the sun had risen. Slowly, he creaked open his brother’s bedroom door.

“Are you awake?” He whispered.

“Hm...” Dick murmured “Dami?” He lifted his face from the pillow to look at the boy. Damian’s eyes landed on a noticeable bruise on his cheekbone “What’s wrong?” He slowly sat up, noticing the look on his baby brother’s face.

“Nothing.” Damian answered, swiping away more tears.

“Liar.” Dick accused, smiling “You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to.”

Damian removed his school blazer, hanging it on Dick’s chair as he kicked off his shoes.

“Don’t get up. You need to sleep.” Damian said. Dick frowned, laying back down.

“Okay.” He started, carefully “But what’s going on little d? What do you need?”

“I...” He tried, but his voice cracked as he sat on the bed.

“It’s okay.” Dick whispered, stroking his back “What do you want me to do, Dami?”

“I... I want a hug.” He laid down next to his brother, who pulled him close to his body.

Dick felt him sobbing against his chest, and kissed Damian’s hair, holding him tightly.

“What happened, hm?” Dick whispered gently against his head “What’s going on?”

“I don’t want to talk about it right now. I just want to sleep for a while.” The boy whispered back, placing his hand on top of his brother’s.

“Okay.” Dick answered “We can do that.”

“Thank you.”

Damian noticed how much bigger his brother’s hands were when compared to his. Part of it was due to the amount of punches he had thrown in his life, making the bones spread apart, giving it a wider aspect. Part of it was due to the fact that Damian was still a child. He noticed how both of their hands were calloused and rough, but still in infinitely different ways. His hands had been marked by the sword, while his brother’s were shaped by his escrima sticks and the bars of the circus.

Truth is, Damian focused so much on his hands because the size comparison made him feel safe. Above all, having something to focus on helped him fall asleep faster. Dick was already used to the feeling of small fingers moving his hand around, counting scars and feeling bumps, until both of them drifted off.

About an hour later, Dick woke up to the feeling of his brother moving around the bed, awake too.

“Hey.” He smiled, stretching “Did you sleep well?”

“Yes.” Damian answered, staring at the ceiling. His face was smashed, hair a mess, and his button up shirt had creases everywhere. Dick played with his brother’s hair as he blinked slowly “That feels nice.”

“Yeah.” Dick chuckled “Listen Dames, I need to grab some food. Come with me?” Damian nodded in response, and both of them got on their feets and walked to the kitchen.

Dick looked through the cabinets for something to eat. Damian pulled a post-it off the fridge door.

“Pennyworth left you a sandwich.” He grabbed it, handing it to his hungry brother.

“Sweet!” He exclaimed “Alfie really is a life saver. Want some?”

“No, thank you.” Damian refused. They sat across each other at a table.

“So... Want to talk now?” Dick asked. The boy remained silent “C’mon Dami. You know I’m here for you, right? You can trust me.”

Damian hid his face in his hands.

“I’m ashamed.”

“Why?”

“I... I feel like a coward.” He almost growled “It’s... As if I was weak.” Tears slid down his cheeks.

“What’s going on Damian?” Dick asked again, softly.

“Promise...” He started “Promise you won’t get mad. Please.”

“Of course I won’t Dami.” His brother had soft eyes, staring at him. Damian swallowed.

“Pruitt and his group of brain dead morons.” He wiped the tears away and punched the table “I let them get to me. I don’t know how to deal with it, and that makes me weak.”

“What are they doing to you?”

“They keep... Insinuating that I’m a terrorist. Shoving my chair and telling me that...” He frowned “Telling me that father should have left me in an orphanage. Because of… My heritage.”

Dick examined him for a moment.

“Damian.” He called “Dami, look at me.” He caught his brother’s hand “This isn’t your fault. And it doesn’t make you weak. You don’t know how to deal with this because you shouldn’t have to deal with this. I need you to understand that, okay?” Damian nodded “Listen, we need to talk to your principal about this.” Damian’s eyes widened “I know. I know how it sounds, I’ve been there. But believe me, it will get better. The first step is to let people know what’s going on.”

“What is the second step?”

“That depends.”

“On what?”

“On what will happen after the first.”

.................................

The next morning, Dick insisted on taking his brother to school. He convinced Damian to talk to Bruce about what had happened, and now both his father and brother were in the car, headed to school to talk to his principal about the bullying he had been facing.

After all the students had properly settled in their classrooms, the principal welcomed the Waynes into his office.

“Mr. Wayne! What can I do for you?” He asked, a polite smile on his face.

“Well, Mr. Jameson, I was recently made aware of some... Concerning behaviour happening on school grounds.”

“What kind of concerning behaviour, Mr. Wayne?” The principal joined his hands, portraying a curiosity Dick knew to be fake. He rolled his eyes.

“What has-”

“Racism.” Dick cut Bruce off, arms crossed as he leaned back in his chair “We’ve recently found out that Damian has been dealing with racist comments and actions coming from some of his classmates.” Bruce gave him a discreet look, but didn’t say anything “What?” He whispered to his father “How long were you two planning on dancing around the topic for?”

The principal cleared his throat.

“I assure you, Mr. Grayson, I’m just as appalled by this allegation as you are.”

“Allegation my ass.” He shot back.

“Dick.” Bruce quietly warned.

“Look, the way I see this, it’s all very simple.” Dick said, palms spread on the man’s table as he spoke “I had to endure racism back in my student days, and now Damian is having to suffer through the same thing, because your administration has failed to correct this behaviour when it first happened, despite my countless cries for help during my middle and high school years.”

Bruce raised his eyebrows.

“I can’t really argue with that, Mr. Jameson.” The man brought his hands together, resting them on his lap.

“Yes, I see.” The man answered, an uncomfortable smile on as his face took on a pale tone “Uhm, why don’t you... Give me a list with the names of the children involved so we can schedule a meeting next week with the boys parents and...” He cut himself off as he looked at Bruce’s face.

“I’m sorry, Mr. Jameson, but I assume you know that I run a business? And that my time is very scarce?” Bruce started “I am here now. Doesn’t that send a clear enough message of my expectations?”

“I- Uhm, yes, of course, Mr. Wayne.” He started again “If you can give me the names of the children, I’ll call their parents in immediately.”

“That’s great.” Bruce smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes “I happen to have a list with me.”

.................................

A couple of hours later, only three of the kids had their guardians present. Both the principal and Bruce decided that the fourth one could wait a day or two and that there was no real need to keep anyone waiting any longer.

“Mr. Jameson,” Angus Pruitt, the father to the blonde Warren, leader of the group, stated, as his wife held her dear boy close “What is this all about?”

“Well, you see,” The Principle said, sweating profusely. Dick could understand the nervousness, seeing the delicate audience he was speaking to, but was too angry to even try to empathize “It has come to my attention that young Mr. Pruitt, along with Mr. Du Pont and Mr. Chase,” He gestured towards the two other boys, “Have been involved in some...” The principal eyes met Dick’s enraged stare, and the man dropped his head. Bruce felt compelled to nudge his son and get him to stop “I, uhm...” He stumbled over his words.

Dick sighed and opened his mouth, too quickly for Bruce to stop.

“Your kids have been saying some pretty racist shit to my brother.” Dick said, leaning back on the wall “Now that I know who is involved with all this, can’t say I’m all that surprised.” His eyes locked with Mr. Du Pont, the man whose first son, Lawrence, was also brought in multiple times for bullying Dick back when he was in middle school.

An uncomfortable silence fell over the room. Well, Dick and Damian seemed to be thriving in it, but everyone else was thrown off by the latest statement.

“And what exactly are you doing here, Mr. Grayson?” Mr. Du Pont said, looking into Dick’s eyes with the same cold disgust he always had “Isn’t this meeting supposed to be only with the parents and students?”

“Well, first of all, I’d like to see you try and get me out of this room.” He shot back “And second, I’m listed as one of his legal guardians, so get-”

“That’s enough, Dick.” Bruce placed a hand on his chest, stopping him.

“Is that so, Mr. Wayne?” Mr. Pruitt spoke up “Why?”

“Old money comes with old enemies.” Bruce said, arrogant posture matching the others “If anything were to happen to me, I’d rather be sure that Damian would be in good hands. Not that I’d expect you to understand the actions my kind of people take.” He said, softening the verbal aggression with a smile. Dick bit the insides of his lip to hold in his laugh “Now, shall we discuss what are the actions that this school will be taking to eradicate the racism your children so eagerly take part in?”

The principal swallowed as all eyes turned back to him.

“W-well,” He started “The first thing is...” He glanced up at Dick for a second “Appropriate punishment.” Dick smiled at the man “One week of after school detention for each of you.”

“What? That’s not fair!” The Chase kid, Michael, cried in complaint.

“Be quiet, dear.” His mother said, looking down at him.

“But I’m gonna miss my tennis tournament!” He wanted again.

“Well, maybe you should’ve thought of that before you bullied your classmate, shouldn’t you?” She replied, stern, shutting the boy up.

Dick raised an eyebrow. Maybe there was some hope for these kids after all.

“Well, I also believe this punishment seems a little unfair.” Mrs. Pruitt said, still holding her boy, who now looked like a scared mouse.

“A little unfair?” Dick started.

“Dick, please...” Bruce said, putting a hand on his son’s chest. Dick looked at him for a second as he lowered his father’s arm, and that glimpse Bruce had was enough to let him know that there was no stopping him now. Trusting his son’s judgement, he backed down.

“You wanna know what’s unfair?” He leaned over one of the desks in the room, supporting his weight on both hands “Unfair is me getting tripped on hallways and being called a circus freak. Unfair is me having to hear slurs directed at me everyday while I’m trying to learn. Unfair is the word ‘gypsy’ being carved into every single one of my seats, and spray painted on my locker, twice. Unfair, is me getting beat up behind the school dumpsters because of my non-whiteness. Unfair is the death threats I was sent every other week, telling me I don’t belong here. Unfair,” Dick stared into her eyes “Is your son getting only a week of after school detention when the shit he’s said and done could very well warrant jail time if he wasn’t a minor. So shut the fuck up about “unfair”, because they are being let off easy. The shit they’ve been pulling ruin lives. If it was up to me, they’d get so much worse.”

The room went quiet once again. Dick punched the desk lightly before moving back to his previous position.

“Now, dear Principal Jameson,” He started over “Let’s talk prevention.”

“W-What?” He whispered out.

“What do you plan on doing, moving forward, so that this kind of behaviour doesn't happen again, hm?” Dick crossed his arms, scowl on his face. The man was silent, mouth open as if he wanted to speak, but had no clue on how “No? Well, let me help.” He offered them his most plastic smile “I think...” Dick paced around “The school should provide workshops; maybe even a steady course about racism, what it looks like, how it harms people, how to fight it. Make it mandatory for every little prick that decides they can use a slur or shame a peer for their heritage or culture.”

“Bu-But the money...”

“Is not a problem.” Dick interrupted. He looked at Bruce, who had a small smirk on his face “Is it?”

“No, not at all.” Bruce said “We are more than happy to provide the needed funding, if it goes into such an important project.”

“See?” Dick smiles at the man once again “But, of course, I’m not done. I think, and I’m just spitballing here, but, maybe, we should make this an expellable offense.”

“Hey now, young man,” Mr. Du Pont started “I think you may be overreacting just a bit.”

“Do you?” Dick looked at him “Well, of course you do, you thought I overreacted about everything back in middle school. Have you ever considered that maybe you’re simply underreacting?” Dick’s tongue darted out, wetting his lips. He had a room full of rich adults nervous. He was enjoying this a little too much “But relax, I’m not saying your little brats should be expelled. At least not yet.” He smiled back at the principal “I think that repeat offenders should be expelled. Once? Fine, maybe an honest mistake. They’re young, give him a chance to learn. Twice? That’s definitely racist and shouldn’t be tolerated in such a fine institution.” He stared at the man, and was surprised by the amount of time the other was able to sustain the eye contact.

“I will have to bring that up in the next board meeting, and...”

“Great!” Dick interrupted, charismatic “Great, you do that, and I think we’re done here. Why don’t you send the kids back to their classes now, hm?” He grinned, fake, plastic, and just a little bit malicious.

“Good idea.” The principal retributes the smile “Run along now children. No detours of any kind on your way back to your classrooms.”

.................................

As they were making their way out, Damian pulled at Dick’s hand slightly, getting his attention.

“What’s step two now?” Damian whispers to him.

“Well, now you go back to class and tell me if this happens again.” Dick answered, and Damian kept staring at him “Hey, step one went well. You shouldn’t have to worry about this anymore.”

Damian stopped cold in the middle of the hallway. Bruce and Dick stopped too. Damian then suddenly threw his body against Dick’s, nearly tackling his brother to the ground in a quick and intense hug. He didn’t say anything before walking back to class.

“So, seeing as you’re the expert,” Bruce said, serious but with a bit of happiness in his tone “What now?”

“Now,” Dick sighed “Now I call Jason and see if he’s free to drop off and pick up Damian with me for the next couple of weeks. If Tim wants to tag along, that’d be nice too.” He shoved his hands in his pocket “If I know one thing about these guys, is that their older brothers are all still the same racist dickheads they’ve always been. But they are... Aggressive.” Bruce noticed how his son placed a protective hand over his own stomach at the thought “So I think we should probably be here for a while. Just to make sure nothing happens.”

“Okay.” Bruce nods, and solemnly he adds: “I wish you didn’t have to deal with this.”

“Yeah... But don’t beat yourself up over this, okay? It’s not your fault and you’re doing all that you can.” Dick reassured him, placing a hand on his shoulder and squeezing slightly.

.................................

The rest of the day, Dick had an awful restlessness inside him, constantly bumping his legs or tapping on a surface. He had this awful gut feeling (that one might call instinct), as if he knew something bad was bound to happen today. He hoped he’d be there when it happened. That feeling made him drag Jason and Tim to the school about an hour earlier, the three of them waiting by the car silently. The only reason his brothers didn’t question his acts was because they also felt the same worry take over their bodies whenever they thought of the little brat.

When the bell rang, all of them had moved closer to the gate.

“Oh, fuck no.” Dick exclaimed, looking at three guys standing nearby. He grabbed Jason’s attention “Those are the assholes that fucked with me back then.”

“Do you think they are really here for Damian?” Jason asked, concerned.

“What else would they be here for?” He bit his lip “But yeah, I’m also concerned about a lawsuit. We can’t just beat them up for no reason.”

“What do we do?” Tim asked the older man.

“Let’s get closer. Wait. And pray to the heavens that I’m wrong.”

But Dick wasn’t wrong. And as soon as the group saw Damian approaching they started to walk towards him, trying to intimidate the kid.

“Ayo, Al Ghul, we’ve got something to say to you!” He heard one of them yell. Lawrence Du Pont, of course.

“Hey, leave him alone!” Dick yelled.

Lawrence pushed Damian, making him fall on his butt. Dick reached him just in time, throwing the man to the ground in an impressive judo move, putting as much weight as possible on his ribcage, hoping to break a bone or two.

“Don’t you ever fucking touch my brother again, you disgusting little shit.” He whispered, getting up. The man remained on the floor.

Jason punched one of them in that perfect spot by the jawline, making him pass out immediately. Dick turned his gaze to the other man.

“Wanna run, do it now, bitch.” He growled, and the guy proved that he had a little intelligence left in him, leaving quickly.

Tim had already helped Damian to his feet, but he was unusually pale. A security guard came to check on what all the fuss was about and Jason quickly filled him in, sliding the man a more than generous tip for his troubles. Tim had a protective arm around his younger brother’s shoulder, and Dick rested a hand on his back, guiding them to the car.

“Listen Dames, from here on now, you have permission to fight anyone that physically threatens you, full force.” Dick says once they are back in the car, looking at his brother on the back seat “Just pick one fighting style and try your best to stick to it. It helps to cover anything up in case the media comes in snooping.”

“I see.” Damian states as Jason starts the car “So Jason picked boxing, I can see why, and you picked judo, which is the opposite of what I thought to be closest to your actual style.”

“It was part of the choice too.” Dick sighed, looking out the window “It’s distant from Nightwing, so less of a problem there, and it’s easier to plead self-defence.”

“But...” Damian frowned “Did you ever use it for anything other than self-defence?”

“No. But getting anyone to believe it was in self-defence was damn near impossible.” Dick’s words felt bitter “So judo was my pick because it’s not as lethal as, say, jiu-jitsu can be, but also takes proximity, meaning someone put their hands on me first.”

“Hopefully you won’t need to do it.” Tim said, sitting across from him on the car “But if you do, try to get it on tape so we can put it on youtube and go viral.”

“No,” Dick protests over Jason’s snickering “No, try to stay away from cameras. We don’t need that kind of press.”

Damian smiled as he looked out the window. The peace of the rainy day outside the car was a perfect contrast to the chaotic conversations his brothers had inside of it, talking loudly, arguing and laughing.

When they got back to the manor, Cass and Duke waited for them in the kitchen, stirring a pan and quietly arguing about what to do or not do.

“No, trust me, we don’t need anything else, you just have to be patient...” Duke said “No! Put that down, I’m not adding cornstarch on this.”

“But the guy on youtube...”

“I know what the guy on youtube said, but forget about the guy on youtube for one second, I know what I’m doing.”

“It’s not going to work.”

“It’s going to work alright.” Duke frowned.

“Duke, Cass,” Dick said, his three brothers standing behind him, all of them very curious as to what was going on “What are you doing?”

“Hot chocolate.” Cass answered “But he’s making it wrong.”

“I’m not making it wrong, I’m making it better.” Duke shot back to Cass before turning to his brothers “We heard that Damian had a rough time and... We wanted to make him something nice.”

“This makes me feel happy, so it will make Damian feel happy too, I’m sure.” Cass said “If Duke gets it right.”

“Oh My God woman, will you stop questioning my skills for a second?” Duke shot back.

“It’s not getting thick.”

“It is getting thick, trust me.” Duke said “Just... Sit down on the table and let me do this, all of you.”

“You heard the boss.” Dick jokes, escorting his siblings to the kitchen table.

Damian sat down next to Dick, who was across from Jason. Sitting on Jason’s left side, facing Damian, was Cass, and on his right side, Tim. Damian looked around, taking in the sweet chocolate scent that filled the room, and felt a slight touch to his fingertips. Cass had reached out to him. None of them said anything, but she smiled at her youngest brother, and Damian understood what she meant, offering a small smile back.

They talked loudly, filling the Wayne’s huge kitchen with laughter and warmth, teasing each other, poking fun, sharing stories and memes with each other, being themselves. Damian noticed how much better everything felt now that all of them had moved back in the manor. For a period of time, when it was only him, father and Tim, everything felt a little lifeless, a little dull. When Cass came back to live with them, things started to get better.

But for Damian, the biggest turning point was Duke. His honest, sharp mind brought balance and fun into the house in a way none of the others did. Dick’s frequent visits became even more frequent, to the point where the man just decided to move in and help Bruce deal with the new hoard of teenagers he had brought in (or to help the teenagers deal with Bruce, which is decidedly harder). After that, Tim seemed healthier, happier, more light-hearted. Their heated arguments subdued a lot. And somehow, even Jason began to find the house comfortable again. He still travels back and forth, alternating between his place and the manor, but Damian was almost grateful for his presence now. His straightforward style helped cut through a lot of bullshit speeches.

The thought brought tears to Damian’s eyes. He didn’t fully understand why he cries at moments like these, but right now he couldn’t help it. The table slowly turned silent again as he hid his face in his hands.

“Dami?” Dick called, and Damian’s cry became even more compulsive and unstoppable when he heard the nickname “Dami, what’s wrong?” His brother’s voice was soft and filled with worry, and Damian felt his hand brushing against his arm.

Damian shaked his head and leaned forward, hiding his face in Dick’s shoulder. His tears left wet marks on his brother’s shirt.

“I-I don’t know.” Damian whispered.

Dick hugged him, strong hands rubbing his brother’s back.

“I-I...” Damian tried again “I can’t help it. I’m sorry.”

“Can’t help what, Dami?”

“Crying.”

“It’s okay.” Dick whispered “It’s okay to cry.”

“I love you.” Damian sobbed “So much. It hurts.”

“Aw, Dami...” Dick smiled, planting a kiss to his brother’s scalp “We love you too. So much that it hurts.” He squeezed his brother a little tighter, and Damian sobbed louder and louder, until he was gasping for air “Hey, calm down,” Dick whispered again “We’re not going anywhere, Dami. I’m right here. It’s okay. Breathe. Shhh...”

Damian still felt weak. He knew that it would take a while for him to feel strong again, after what happened. But he knew he had his family with him, borrowing all the strength he could need until he got his back. As he calmed down, Duke sat a huge mug, filled to the brim with the thickest, glossiest, most mouth watering hot chocolate he had ever seen.

“Be careful, it’s still super hot.” Duke warned, handing him a long spoon and ruffling his hair. He took his place on the opposite side of Dick after setting down cups for everyone else “Just for the record,” Duke smiles as he sits down “I’d like to say that this turned out great and I knew exactly what I was doing, so eat your heart out Cassandra.”

The girl stuck her tongue out as her brother’s snickered at the teasing. Soon, the table was filled with laughter again, but this time Damian didn’t cry. He was too busy being happy to do so.

#Dick Grayson #Damian Wayne #batfamily #Batfam #batman bingo 2020 #batman bingo #Jason Todd #Tim Drake #Bruce Wayne #Duke Thomas #Cassandra Cain #fanfic #fanfiction #writing

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