#I had to pause the movie and explain things to ju a few times because she had no clue what was going on | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

kurtstinypurse · 4 years

Note

for the prompt meme thing: 18. celebrity!au + 9. strangers to lovers + “i’m rambling again, aren’t i?” pretty pls. for the rambling of it all and us etc

so this is way longer than that prompt post had in mind, but. I needed to give this the length it (and you) deserved!!

Kurt shouldn’t be checking his Instagram comments, and he knows it.

In fact, he makes a point not to, usually, because he knows what he’ll find - a sea of half-assed compliments and ass-kissing that, as nice as they are, all run together, and a scattering of rude remarks that will inevitably stick out to him and ruin his day.

And so he doesn’t check them, simple as that.

Well - until now, apparently, and he isn’t even really sure why he’s doing it as he opens the app, goes to his own page, clicks his most recent post.

Maybe he’s a masochist looking for reasons to feel insecure and beat himself up, or maybe he’s a narcissist and looking for an ego boost, or maybe he’s bored, or maybe it’s the fact that he’s home alone on a Friday night, two glasses of wine deep - but that part of it is pretty much business as usual.

But regardless, there he sits, scrolling through the comments on his latest picture - a snapshot of a model wearing his newly finished suit, floral and understated, a design he’s content with every stitch of.

As to be expected, the comments run together. There’s a lot of them these days, a larger following than he ever expected to get, back when he was an up-and-coming designer.

He’s not so up-and-coming anymore, though.

He’s established, made a name for himself and kept it, a big name, actually, becoming one of the most sought-after designers to create custom suits for events in New York - and, ironically enough, for most events in the Broadway world, for premieres and awards shows and the like.

It’s a small connection to the very world he once thought he’d be immersed in, but at the end of the day, he’s happy with what he has.

Kurt is scrolling, and he’s scrolling, and then- he pauses.

A blue verified check mark sticks out to him next to one username, and so he stops to read the comment, finding a name he recognizes, one he hadn’t expected to see.

blaineanderson ✔️ this is incredible! your designs are always great, but this one really captured me. fingers crossed I can wear one of your pieces one of these days!

Oh.

It’s interesting, actually, that Blaine hasn’t worn one of Kurt’s pieces before.

Kurt’s been aware of Blaine for a while now, vaguely tracking his progression from a stand-out off-Broadway to an understudy on Broadway to, finally, a full-fledged lead role.

He’s a hot topic, having been labeled as one to watch more than once, and Kurt knows Blaine attends the events and premieres Kurt often designs for, but they just...never crossed paths.

Or apparently they had, and Kurt’s just been missing it.

He blinks, and he reads the comment again, and he takes a long drag of wine, and he swallows, and he blinks, and he reads it again.

He realizes he’s smiling, down at his phone all alone in his apartment, no one to see it, no real reason to be doing it.

There’s no real reason why he clicks on Blaine’s profile, either, and there’s definitely no reason to explain why he clicks to follow Blaine, but if that wasn’t enough -

He clicks again, and he pushes away all room for logical thought, and he composes a message.

kurthummel: hi! this is really random, but I thought your comment on my post was really sweet, plus if you meant it, I’d love to design for you. anyways, just thought I’d say hello and thank you.

He presses his phone onto the couch cushion beside him, and he drains the rest of his wine, and he goes into the kitchen to refill his glass, and when he’s back - there’s a message there waiting for him already, much to his surprise.

blaineanderson: hey, kurt! this message was really exciting to see! I’ve actually been following your work for a long time now, and...wow. do YOU mean it? I’m not sure I’m worthy of wearing one of your designs, but at the very least, I’m so glad you said hi!

Blaine’s gracious, and he’s sweet, and Kurt already knows he’s handsome, and-

Kurt has had far too much wine.

And he has been single for far too long.

But Blaine… In a single comment and a single message, Blaine has managed to make Kurt feel more special than he’s felt in a long time, and he’s not sure why.

It’s probably the wine.

The wine is also why he writes back again - and another time, too.

kurthummel: of course I meant it! and why wouldn’t you be worthy? I actually happened to see the falsettos revival on opening night, and yours might be my favorite interpretation I’ve seen. I’m a big fan of the show, of course, and being such a lover of broadway, too… I’ve seen quite a few boots at this point, but your whizzer might have tugged at my heart the most. and your voice!

And your eyes, and your face, and your smile.

Shit.

The wine, the wine, the wine.

kurthummel: sorry, I’m rambling...

He wants to apologize for a lot more than that, but he manages to stop himself.

blaineanderson: no need to apologize! I...wow. again. you’re so kind, and it means even more because you’re so talented, too. your visions for your designs are just so thoughtful and original, especially that last one, and so I’m sure your ear is just as well-tuned so…yeah. wow. now I’m the rambling one! anyways, whizzer quickly became such a personal role for me, and I’m so happy to hear that shines through even a little bit.

And they kind of go from there.

They keep complimenting each other for a while - there’s probably a ridiculous amount of compliments traded, actually, but they’re both doing it, and it feels like a creative exchange, almost, on topic and essentially business-related. It’s meant to be a precursor to business, actually, hopefully culminating in a project for Kurt and an attention-grabbing, show-stopping outfit for Blaine.

But then they just...keep talking, about their careers and how they like the city, about how they got to the city and where they were prior, about the songs they like and the shows they’ve seen and the movies they’d managed to miss.

It turns out they have a lot in common.

They keep talking, as Kurt finishes off his bottle of wine, as he moves to the bedroom and crawls under his sheets, burrowing into the pillows and blankets with no light but his phone screen illuminating the dark room.

At some point, he realizes he’s smiling, and he’s been smiling, to the point where his cheeks hurt, actually, but he just kind of lets himself.

Just for tonight.

But then it’s the next morning, and Kurt wakes up to a message from Blaine, and the conversation continues, direct messages scattered through the morning, during Kurt’s commute to the office, at work when he has the chance to sneak a moment on his phone.

And he finds himself looking for those moments to sneak a read of a message or a reply to one, kind of whenever he can.

Which is exactly what he’s doing when his boss, Isabelle, pokes her head into his office.

“Why are you smiling at your phone?” she wants to know, raising a curious, knowing eyebrow when Kurt shoots his head up to look at her, phone clattering onto his desk. “A new guy?”

“There’s- There’s no guy,” he stammers, because there isn’t, at least not the way she means, and he’s not sure why his face is getting hot.

Blaine is nice, and Kurt is nice back. That’s all it is, really - it’s nice to have someone new to talk to, to get to know, especially when they’re so- well, nice.

Isabelle hums like she doesn’t believe him, and Kurt suddenly isn’t completely convinced he believes himself.

Blaine posts a new picture of himself on Instagram that night, a classy shot from behind as he watches the sun set over the city from a tall skyscraper’s balcony, and if Kurt falls asleep thinking about the narrow lines of Blaine’s waist and the way his ass looks in those pants, well.

Kurt’s only human, after all.

He’s not sure when things start to change, exactly.

He can’t pinpoint the moment, but their conversations go from friendly and sweet to something more - deeper, first, a gentle delve into Blaine’s complicated family, a brief conversation about Kurt’s mom and his stepbrother, and then just- just more.

He’s sitting at his desk at work, poking at his salad with his fork and grinning at a silly picture Blaine sent him when he realizes - he feels light, and he feels giddy, almost, and he feels towards Blaine a sort of way he thought he couldn’t feel, not anymore.

But he’s feeling it, and he’s been feeling it, and he realizes, too, that he just kind of knows Blaine feels the same way.

It’s in Blaine’s messages, and it’s in the compliments that reappear when Kurt least expects it, and it’s in the emojis he uses, and it’s just-

It’s everywhere, and Kurt sits there, and he blinks, and he blinks, and he chews thoughtfully for a moment, and he decides, yeah.

He’s not going to question it.

It’s that night that Blaine asks for his phone number, and it feels like a step, and Kurt can’t help but wonder if maybe Blaine’s going to ask him out for coffee or for dinner or for drinks - they live in the same city, after all, and they know a ton of the same people and essentially run in the same circles, and it would be so easy, so easy to just take another step forward and make this real.

Kurt should be scared of that - and in the past, he would be, with a string of brief failed relationships and over three years of being fully single in recent history. He has no reason to think - well, anything.

But he’s just...not scared.

He’s cooking dinner when his phone vibrates, and he reaches for it with his free hand, expecting to find some sort of question or invitation, but instead he finds-

A video.

Unknown Number: Hey, you. It’s Blaine. I know I haven’t told you about this, but it’s only because I haven’t really told anyone about it. But besides just singing on stage, I like to try my hand at arranging my own songs, too, and I felt like sharing this one with you. xx

The attached video is just about three minutes long, and it’s of Blaine on his couch, dressed down in a sweater that screams cozy, and he has a guitar in his lap, and he smiles shyly at the camera before starting to play and to sing.

It’s an upbeat sort of song, and Blaine sings about being a king, about thinking he has it all worked out but figuring out he’s wrong, about his kingdom falling apart but being okay, about being foolish and unexpectedly falling in love.

Kurt knows it’s not for him - he isn’t stupid.

But his heart is stupid, and it’s racing in his chest, and his mouth is stupid, too, because he can’t force away his grin, and his hands are worst of all, because when the song is over, he presses to replay it, and then he replays it again.

And then he picks up his phone, and he types.

From Kurt: Blaine, that was… I don’t know what to say! The lyrics were so clever, and you’re so wonderful at guitar, and you know how I feel about your voice. I listened to it a few times, honestly, and I already want to listen to it again. Sorry, I’m rambling again, too, aren’t I? I...guess I tend to feel kind of foolish around you, actually.

From Blaine: It’s funny, I wrote this song almost a year ago with nothing to apply it to. But it’s starting to make more sense, I think. Or maybe I’m foolish, too.

From Blaine: Besides, I love to listen to you ramble.

Kurt breathes out shakily, and he blinks, and he reads the message again, and he blinks, and he smiles.

He doesn’t hesitate, and he knows he won’t regret it.

From Kurt: Are you free tomorrow night?

Blaine’s reply is near instant.

From Blaine: For you? Anytime.

It’s only been a week, Kurt realizes the next night as he fusses over his hair in the mirror, picks an invisible string of a thread from his vest.

A mere week since he messaged Blaine, a mere week since Blaine messaged back, and yet-

It feels like so much longer, so much more than that.

Blaine has agreed to meet Kurt at a cozy, low-lit cafe a few blocks away, one of Kurt’s favorite spots that’s coincidentally one of Blaine’s favorites, too.

It’s funny, really, how connected they’ve always been, even when they didn’t know each other yet.

Kurt isn’t used to not wanting to cancel at least a little bit. On every first date he’s been on in the past handful of years, he’s had to practically force himself out the door, force himself to try, already knowing nothing will come of it.

But now, he has to force himself not to leave for the restaurant too early.

Of course, time moves forward as it inevitably does, and it comes time, and so Kurt heads out, and he walks down the street with a rush in his chest, pulling his jacket close around himself, ready.

A breath catches in his throat as he sees Blaine waiting outside the restaurant, rocking slightly up and down on the balls of his feet in an impossibly endearing nervous motion, a bouquet of colorful flowers in his hand.

Kurt can tell the very moment Blaine sees him, too, eyes locking with Kurt still about a block away, and Blaine positively beams, radiant and happy and beautiful, and wow, Kurt made him do that.

Once he gets close enough to say hello, close enough to see all of the colors and the softness and the warmth in Blaine’s eyes, close enough to touch, Kurt is pretty much done for.

He isn’t the type to kiss on the first date, particularly not before actually having the date, but he’s not the type to pay so much attention to his Instagram comments or send someone a direct message out of the blue, either.

As he pulls Blaine close and presses their lips together, Kurt finds he’s never been happier to surprise himself.

(A handful of months later, Blaine wears a Hummel Designs original to the premiere of the Waitress revival, an adaptation of the very suit he commented on the picture of - with Kurt on his arm, too, there to stay.)

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alecmagnuslwb · 4 years

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Rent a Holidate

Read on AO3

Magnus is barely paying attention as his father blathers on about his annual Thanksgiving party. It’s the same as every year, food made by an overpaid chef, schmoosing clients and Magnus being expected to attend and behave.

They don’t even really celebrate Thanksgiving and it’s definitely not about family coming together to be thankful for the things they have and the love they share, it’s a way for his father to impress his clients with the size of his house and the happy little family picture that he, whoever his latest wife is and Magnus make. It’s a fake night, filled with fake rich people that Magnus loathes more and more every single year.

There’s a pause on his fathers end of the line and Magnus scrambles assuming he was asked some sort of question.

“Yes, of course,” he says hoping that’s the right answer. Evidently it’s neutral considering his father’s monotonous response.

“Fine then, I hope that he or she will be an acceptable date for the evening,” his father says. Oh shit, he thinks, did I just agree to bring a date to this thing?

For a moment he considers backtracking saying he won’t be bringing anyone, it’s not like he’s been on so much as a half decent date in over a year, but he knows his father, once you’ve said something you act on it, no turning back. So instead he grits his teeth and accepts he’ll be bullshitting his way through an emergency excuse to why his fake partner couldn’t attend the night of.

“He is very acceptable,” Magnus says faux cheery conjuring up a fake boyfriend in his head. Not that any partner of his could be deemed acceptable by his father, his father even finds his own career path teaching English at NYU to be an underperformance.

“It’s not Columbia,” he always says whenever Magnus talks about his work.

“Well, then I look forward to meeting him,” his father says not at all sounding like he’s looking forward to it. Which is good considering Magnus’ supposed boyfriend is a complete fabrication. “I’ll see you in a week.”

And just like that he hangs up, no goodbye, nothing.

Magnus sighs tossing his phone into the graded paper box on his desk and begins crafting a personality and profession for his fake boyfriend just in case he needs a more solid alibi.

***

Magnus laments his woes to Dot and Catarina later that night, it’s Thursday which means mimosas and movies.

“Part of me just wants to make up an excuse and be done with it, it’s not like he’ll even remember in a week’s time after the fact that I ever even had a supposed boyfriend,” Magnus says pausing to take a sip of his mimosa. “The other part of me just wants to bring the world’s worst date and embarrass him to no end.”

“You mean Camille wasn’t the world’s worst date?” Dot says curling up in the chair beside Cat with her own mimosa in hand.

“Camille was the world’s worst date, but she never was one to make a scene, she was quietly and privately terrible,” Magnus says moving quickly past the topic of his wicked ex. “I mean someone who’s not a bad person, just kind of a mess.”

“Why don’t you hire the guy Dot hired last year for her family reunion?” Cat says not even bothering to look up from her phone as she scrolls reading reviews for the movie they’re about to watch.

“Yeah he was great,” Dot says agreeing with Cat’s suggestion. “His names Alec. He can’t play straight to save his life which made it even better because my whole family was convinced I was not only dating a worthless degenerate, but a worthless degenerate gay man. Hilarious, honestly.”

She pulls up something on her phone and hands it to Magnus. It’s a Craigslist ad titled, Alone on Thanksgiving? Mad at your dad? Tired of your family’s absurd expectations?

He takes the phone reading the post entirely.

My name is Alec Lightwood, I’m a 28 year old almost felon who went to college for three weeks before dropping out. I have a Thunderbird that’s only a year younger than me painted like Eddie Van Halen’s red guitar. It’s hideous and embarrassing and I love it. I can play anywhere between the ages of 23 to 32 depending on if I shave. I’m a bartender and occasional bouncer when the need requires, I haven’t been seen not in a leather jacket with a tear in the back since high school, I’m gay and very bad at hiding it and I’ve even got an eyebrow scar that’s sure to raise a few eyebrows (get it, raise a few eyebrows).

If you’d like to have me as your strictly platonic date for a gathering of some sort, but have me pretend to be in a very serious relationship with you to torment your family, I’m game.

I can do these things at your request:

- Openly hit on other guests while you act like you don’t notice (of any gender, I may be gay but I can embarrassingly hit on anyone even if it’s not convincing).

- Start instigative discussions about politics and/or religion (sports are off the table however unless your family are big into the Rangers or Islanders, then I can talk shit for days.)

- Propose to you in front of everyone and you tearily accept or you turn me down and I proceed to have a breakdown, but we resolve to work on our relationship much to your family’s chagrin.

- Pretend to be increasingly drunk as the evening goes on (sorry, I don’t actually drink anymore, but I used to. A lot. Too much in fact. I know the drill.)

- Start a screaming match with a family member, that could come to blows (but no one will be physically harmed, I promise) either inside or on the front lawn (if there is one) for all the neighbors to see.

I require no pay but the free food I will receive as a guest at any event!

We can meet prior to the event somewhere public and you can ask me any questions. And I mean any questions so that you feel safe.

- Do NOT contact with unsolicited services or offers. Email me at: [email protected]

“Um, he’s a felon?” Magnus says looking up from the phone when he’s done.

“Hey, don’t judge, you’re not exactly rap sheet free,” Dot says scolding him with a smile. Which okay, he does have a few arrests on his record, petty little things and pick-ups at a protest or two, but felonies are a bit above that. He says that aloud. “Also, as it says he’s technically an almost felon.”

“He’s not a murderer or anything, I had Raphael check out his history before I requested his services,” Dot continues on to explain, referring to their friend who’s a prosecutor. “He got picked up for aggravated assault after he caught the guy who got his sister hooked on drugs in her bed shooting her up, it was a bullshit charge from a snake of a man who deserved every hit he got. The charges were ultimately dropped and settled when the piece of shit he beat up got hit with about ten felonies himself. He’s a good guy, like a really good guy I promise.”

“Didn’t Raphael even stress that he never would have convicted Alec in a million years on the charges?” Cat says getting up from her seat and heading to the kitchen to refill her mimosa glass.

Dot nods taking a sip of her drink. “He did, he said any jury would have sided with him over the 30 year old drug pusher preying on an 18 year old girl. And even though we can’t tell him, because we don’t want him to smirk about it all the time and get a big head, we both know Raphael is the best judge of character and lawyer in America.”

It’s true, Raphael always knows what he’s talking about.

“Plus,” Dot continues on. “Alec’s very upfront about it, I didn’t even need to do the background check he told me exactly what went down when we met for coffee before the event, even brought his sister along to corroborate and make me feel comfortable.”

“Wow,” Magnus says genuinely surprised by the decency of a man on the internet.

“Also, he’s very cute,” Dot smirks over the rim of her glass waggling her eyebrows in Magnus’ direction.

Magnus rolls his eyes. “I don’t think it matters if my fake date is cute.”

“So you’re gonna do it?” Catarina says coming back in the room, a pitcher filled to the brim with mimosa mix in her hand.

Magnus bites his lip in thought as he looks down at the phone in his hand again. He does want to cause a ruckus, he’s tired of being the perfect little son when his father needs him to be. And Alec Lightwood might just be able to provide the exact ruckus he’s looking for.

“What the hell,” he mutters before tossing Dot’s phone to her. “Do I need to email him, or do you still have his number?”

Dot smiles in delight as she taps on her phone his own phone buzzing in his pocket a second later with Alec’s number.

***

Alec keeps his text exchanges simple, offering to meet Magnus the following afternoon after Magnus’ noon class for coffee. Alec lets Magnus choose everything, clearly dedicated to making the person contacting him as comfortable as possible. Luckily for Magnus Alec’s had no inquiries for this Thanksgiving, except for one that was definitely unsavory and he turned down immediately.

With such short notice Magnus thought for sure this might not work out.

He walks in scanning the shop looking for Alec and comes up empty based on Dot’s description of him. He gets in line and orders a drink finding a table off to the side where it’s not too crowded to sit and wait. He’s barely settled into his seat when the chime above the door rings and in walks a stunner with long legs and dark hair.

The man pauses scanning the room, then his eyes land on Magnus his lips tilt up just a bit and he walks over his way.

“Magnus Bane?” he says in question when he reaches the table. Magnus is speechless for a moment as the sun catches in the man’s hazel eyes and on the tiny silver hoops in his ears. He shakes himself from the trance he’s in, ignoring the way his eyes shine a little greener when he tilts his head and nods his own head in confirmation.

“Alec Lightwood?”

“That’s me,” the man says with a smile that crinkles at the edges just a bit, he reaches out a hand that Magnus takes shaking it instantly enjoying the contrast of Alec’s cold fingers to his warm ones. Magnus squeezes his hand once before letting go. “I’m just gonna go get a drink and then we can talk,” Alec says stepping back with a tentative, but dazzling smile.

Magnus watches him go enjoying the view of his long legs in motion. He spots the tear in the back of his leather jacket, just like mentioned in his ad, and smiles. Alec comes back moments later a mug of black coffee in hang.

“So you need a bad date for Thanksgiving,” he says tearing open an obscene amount of sugar packets and pouring them into his mug. “I’m guessing before we get into that though, you want to know about the almost felony?”

Magnus shakes his head and Alec looks at him quizzically for a moment, before the puzzle pieces in his mind clearly fall into place.

“Dot,” he says in understanding. “She must have told you everything.”

“She did,” Magnus confirms taking a sip of his drink. “And for the record it sounds like you were in the right.”

Alec smiles a small uncertain smile almost like he’s not sure that’s the truth, but takes the words as a compliment anyways.

“It wasn’t my finest moment, I guess I’m just overprotective when it comes to people I love,” he says running his fingers along the rim of his mug.

“Getting a drug predator away from your sister isn’t just being overprotective, it’s doing the right thing,” he says genuine. He remembers when they were in high school and Raphael had his run with a bad crowd, it never came to it, but he would have done the same thing Alec did if the situation had presented itself.

Alec just shrugs looking off to the side. Magnus sees the uncomfortable set in his shoulders and shifts the conversation.

“You come highly recommended, Dot says you put on one hell of a show at her family reunion,” he says with a bright smile.

Alec’s shoulders ease and he turns back to Magnus with a smile.

“Dot barely needed me, she put on a performance just as stunning, I’ve never seen a woman so small body tackle so many people during what’s supposed to be a friendly game of tag,” he says with a chuckle.

Magnus has heard all about Dot’s deadly game and seen the bruises she proudly displayed from her somewhat violent performance first hand.

“Believe me it’s not the first time she’s tackled down a full-grown man,” Magnus says with a laugh fondly remembering a frat party, an unsuspecting frat boy and a fateful game of beer pong from many years ago.

“Somehow that does not surprise me,” Alec says rubbing a hand across his dark beard. The conversation shifts from there, Magnus giving Alec the full rundown about his father, his current stepmother and the all too haughty evening they’ll be subjected to.

Conversation flows easy between them, Alec seeming to understand a lot of Magnus’ struggles with his family life and Magnus finds himself wondering if there’s more to why he does this bit of charity for people in need.

“So, why exactly is it you do this?” Magnus asks, clarifying quickly when Alec raises his eyebrow in question. They’ve covered the felony yes and it’s clear that Alec just simply cares, but that’s not a full reason why. “I mean I believe that you’re just a genuinely good person who wants to help people, but it’s deeper than that isn’t it?”

Alec pauses for a moment rubbing the back of his neck nervously, Magnus is about to tell him he doesn’t have to explain if it’s an uncomfortable topic just as Alec starts to talk.

“I’m gay,” he says and Magnus smirks, the obviously on the tip of his tongue. Alec picks up on it smiling back. “Obviously, but for a long time I couldn’t be, or at least not at home. My parents are kind of rich, they’d do these big to do holiday parties every year for Thanksgiving and Christmas. When my siblings and I were little they were just big boring adult parties that we’d steal food from. Then we all got old enough to date and to have plans for the future.”

Magnus hums in understanding. That’s how his father’s parties had been, one day he was a kid just stealing cookies and hating the droll grown ups and the next he was a man expected to present himself in certain ways, ways that weren’t remotely who he was.

“By the time I was 21 I was still in the closet, and already on their shit list for dropping out of college, and I never dated and my parents were just determined to find me a wife. Every year it was so and so’s daughter is lovely and has such a strong education or so and so’s daughter is coming and I can’t wait for you to meet her,” he says twisting the coffee mug between his hands. “I’m pretty sure those holiday parties are how my drinking got so bad, forced heterosexuality and an open bar do not mix well together.”

He chuckles and Magnus takes that as an invitation to do the same. Again he gets it, he’s taken his fair advantage of the open bar at his father’s parties many times.

“And then one year my dad was going on about some girl who was at Thanksgiving dinner, I don’t even remember her name, but she was standing there and the whole time he’s talking about how she’s so pretty and so ready to start a family and I should make a move before someone else did. And I was losing my mind internally and evidently I’d had just enough to drink that I just screamed at the top of my lungs that I was gay.”

He pauses taking the last sip of his coffee.

“And then I just left after my mom was trying to talk to me about causing a scene. Then Christmas rolls around and to my extreme shock I get the invite. I thought for sure I was in for the lecture I’d been avoiding for a month, but instead they just acted like Thanksgiving hadn’t even happened,” he shakes his head. “They invited some other poor girl to try and marry me off to and just went on like I hadn’t had a big, gay outburst. My outburst was a lot bigger that time, after that I didn’t get any more party invites, they just cut me out entirely.”

Magnus reaches out resting his hand on Alec’s that’s drumming on the table. “I’m so sorry, Alexander,” he says trying out the full name for the first time guessing that’s what Alec is short for. He likes the way it rolls off his tongue and judging from the way Alec doesn’t correct him he ventures he got it right.

Alec just shrugs with a sad little smile on his lips. “It’s okay,” he says. “I mean it wasn’t back then, but I’m okay now. I don’t need my parents or their money, my siblings are still in my life and I’ve got a whole life outside of that. I can have my gay outbursts in peace now.”

Magnus laughs squeezing his hand once before pulling back, he’s been resting it there much too long now.

They talk logistics after that, establishing a plan for the holiday dinner. Alec immediately offers to bring his Thunderbird to drive to Magnus’ father’s place upstate.

“I don’t have the car not to be embarrassing about it,” he says and Magnus smiles insisting he pays for the gas then.

He spends almost three hours and four coffees with Alec and eventually finds they’re not even talking about the dinner in question, but they’re just talking instead.

It’s an unexpected development.

***

Coffee with Alec goes all too well and by the end of it they have a carefully cultivated story about how they met and how long they’ve supposedly been together all set in stone. Alec ensures him he’ll be the ultimate, best bad boyfriend for the night, and frankly Magnus is having a hard time believing it.

Alec is sweet, kind without even realizing it and looks like the living embodiment of tall, dark and handsome. If Magnus is being honest he’d love to take him out sometime as a real date more than a bad boyfriend for the night.

He calls Dot after they’ve said their goodbyes, walking to his apartment not far from the coffee shop.

“So how’d it go?” Dot asks immediately upon answering the phone.

“He’s incredibly charming without trying to be and cute is a fucking understatement, Dorothea,” he says looking both ways before crossing to the other side of the street.

Dot chuckles wildly on the other side.

“I’m serious, if I was given the opportunity to craft a man based on looks alone I’m pretty sure he’d be what I’d create, he’s gorgeous,” Magnus says as he reaches his building going inside and heading for the elevator.

“I may have undersold him slightly,” Dot says sounding all too innocent.

“And was there a reason for that, my dear?” he says. He’s starting to feel like he’s being set up.

“Perhaps,” she says and he can hear the gleeful smile in her voice. “You can thank me later, for now just enjoy your bad boyfriend.”

***

Five days later on the last Thursday of the month, Magnus waits outside of his apartment for Alec and at three o’clock on the dot Alec’s truly ridiculous car pulls up. It’s even better in person than he described.

The black, red and white lines are exactly like Eddie Van Halen’s infamous guitar and the ’93 Thunderbird is just on the right side of beat up. The left taillight is busted, covered in see through tape and there’s a sizeable dent in the passenger side door.

Alec steps out of the car, a vision in his signature leather jacket, black jeans with far too many tears and dark eyeliner around his eyes. It’s not neat like Magnus’ though, it’s messy. His whole look from his disheveled, but neat hair, to his trimmed beard to his scuffed boots is just on the right side of acceptable, but screams of a wild side as well.

Magnus isn’t as black tie as he knows his father would like him to be, wearing a deep red shirt and tight pants with a line down the side, his perfectly styled hair, curly and soft with matching red streaks running through it. They make a pretty attractive pair if Magnus does say so himself.

Magnus can’t wait to see how the evening plays out.

Alec smiles at him coming over to open the passenger side door, it takes a couple tugs to get it open.

“It’s a little finicky,” he says playfully bowing and gesturing for Magnus to get inside. “Your chariot awaits.”

Magnus smiles stepping into the car. Alec shuts the door tight rounding the car and falling into his seat.

“Ready to cause a scene?” Alec says with a devilish smile that Magnus finds hard to resist.

“Absolutely,” he says with his own answering smile as Alec turns the key and peels out onto the road.

***

The ride up takes about two hours all told with holiday traffic and every minute of it is delightful. Alec tells him more about himself, outside of the surface stuff they’d covered to make sure Magnus was comfortable with this whole night.

He learns Alec loves archery, has an affinity for trash shows like the Bachelor and has a vicious little cat he adores named Church. Magnus gives his own tidbits in return about his work at the university and his love of bad horror movies, laughing when Alec suggests their fiendish cats might just get along.

Magnus laughs just as they pull up outside of his father’s home, “Chairman doesn’t exactly play well with others.”

Alec shrugs. “Neither does Church, that’s why it’d be fun,” he says with a smile pulling his eyes away from Magnus looking up at the sprawling house before them. He slows the car to a stop pulling into a spot that makes the car perfectly visible from the wall of windows that line the living room where all the guests won’t be able to miss it.

“Damn,” Alec says as he steps out of the car, Magnus joins him where he’s leaning back against the front of his Thunderbird. His car looks amazingly out of place and perfectly hilarious parked between a silver Porsche and a sleek black Lamborghini. “Your father’s in real estate you said?”

“Amongst other things,” Magnus grumbles looking at the house that was always too big, that always felt hollow and empty to Magnus when they moved here after his mother skipped town.

“It’s way too big,” Alec says with a grimace looking it over one last time before offering his arm to Magnus. Magnus takes it guiding him to the front door. “And there’s way too many fucking windows.”

Magnus chuckles as they reach the door opening it automatically and walking in. The space is gaudier than the last time he was there, the walls where once his father and stepmother number four’s portraits used to hang now feature the latest wife and sadly the one of him that his father had commissioned years ago. It’s the last time he’d agreed to sit for one of his gaudy paintings, he’s young, barely 20 wearing a stiff suit and barely any makeup, he doesn’t look like him at all.

“Well that’s a painting,” Alec says looking at it. “I like this you better,” he says eyeing Magnus up and down. Whether he meant to or not there’s a lingering in the look, Magnus likes it. “That looks like somebody trying to be something they’re not.”

And just like that with one look at a painting, Alec nails him right on the head. Like he can read Magnus easily, a thing that just about no one can do.

“Come on,” Magnus says pulling Alec along down the garish hallway that leads to the large expanse of the living room. There’s a new chandelier hanging in the hall, riddled in way too many gems. He bets it’s a feature added by the new wife.

“Maggie!” a woman’s voice yells, speak of the devil, he rolls his eyes at the nickname no matter how many times he’s told her to drop it she just won’t. “Happy Thanksgiving!”

His stepmother comes bouncing over their way, her ridiculously high heels clacking against the hardwood floor. He can hear his father sigh from the other side of the room, more concerned with his precious oak floors than anything else in the world.

Magnus braces himself as she barrels into him hugging him tight, she releases him with a smile before turning to Alec and doing the same.

Alec’s eyes go wide in surprise, no matter how much Magnus described her to him there’s no preparing for hurricane Marissa. She pulls back adjusting her very not appropriate for the setting tight pink and black strapless dress with a smile, her fake tan looks a little lighter than usual and he’s weirdly proud of her for that.

“And who is this?” she asks reaching out to adjust Magnus’ shirt collar that she crumpled when hugging him.

“This is my boyfriend, Alec,” he says gesturing his way. “Alec this is my father’s wife, Marissa.”

Marissa playfully pats Magnus’ cheek, “Stepmother.” She says it pointedly holding out a hand to quickly shake Alec’s. He will never refer to her as his stepmother out loud, much like the past four wives Magnus bets Marissa will be gone in five years’ time tops, his own mother hadn’t even stuck around that long. Also, she’s 25, five years younger than him, and there’s no way he’s referring to her as anything remotely close to a mother.

“It’s lovely to have you in our home,” Marissa says to Alec gesturing to the room at large. Magnus looks around at the room full of people, most of whom he doesn’t remotely recognize. A few seem somewhat familiar in the most unmemorable sense. He’s sure they’re constant clients and rich cohorts of his father’s that have attended before.

“That it is,” his father’s voice says coming up behind his wife. He rests one hand on her shoulder and holds out another Alec’s way. “Asmodeus Bane.”

“Alec Lightwood,” he says a perfect gentleman returning his father’s handshake. They’d agreed to keep it civil for at the least the first introduction and then let the evening escalate from there. Magnus can tell just from looking at it his father’s grip is tight, commanding and borderline threatening, but Alec doesn’t even flinch.

“Lightwood, hm?” his father says eyeing Alec up and down frowning and Magnus can tell he already disapproves of what he sees. “Any relation to the Lightwood Consulting company?”

“Yes,” Alec says and Magnus smiles when he sees his father’s lips uptick in an impressed smile that immediately falls at Alec’s next words. “But they cut me out and off years ago, I’m the black sheep of the family if you will.”

Asmodeus just hums disappointed. “Well, that’s a shame,” he says. “So, how did you meet my son?” he asks not bothering with anymore small talk now that he’s already decided Alec’s no good, just jumping right in to the things he can criticize.

“Prison,” Alec jokes and Marissa titters delightfully. She quickly stops when Asmodeus looks at her disappointedly. “Just kidding,” he says. “I did my time there years ago, no we met at a bar.”

Asmodeus bristles at the prison mention, which is technically a lie, Alec only spent a few hours in a cell back when he was arrested, but his father clearly buys it as more. Magnus can tell he’s tuning out the rest of their crafted meet cute story, all about how three months ago Alec had a few too many drinks and almost got into a fight and Magnus had been his stalwart knight in shining armor.

“Love at first sight,” Marissa sighs clearly enjoying their made up tale. “Isn’t it sweet, Asmody?” she coos tugging on his father’s arm.

“Yes, quite sweet,” Asmodeus grimaces gripping his wife’s arm and pulling her away. “We’ll talk later.” He says looking directly at Magnus, essentially and completely dismissing Alec’s presence all together before stepping away. Marissa grins wide waving at them as she goes her long pink acrylic nails clicking together as she does so. Marissa may not be the brightest or subtlest bulb, but at least unlike many of Asmodeus’ past wives she’s nice enough.

“Well damn, do I even need to do anything else? He seems disappointed enough already,” Alec says shaking his head in disbelief.

“Now, where would the fun in that be,” Magnus says with a smirk, shrugging off his jacket. Alec follows suit and Magnus admires the view of his arms in a short sleeved well-fitting white button up shirt. His love of archery has made for some nicely toned muscle.

***

They mingle for a bit after Magnus deposits their coats in one of the coat closets, Magnus putting on his best son of the year smile while Alec downs glasses of water that everyone thinks is vodka at a fairly speedy rate.

It’d been his first task when they’d rejoined the party walking over to the bar with a smile.

“I need you to fill a bottle or two of vodka with water and keep serving me all night,” he said to the bored and disgruntled looking woman behind the counter. The rest of the hired help for the night must have been sequestered away in the kitchen until dinner judging by her being the first one that Magnus had spotted.

“You planning something weird tonight?” she questioned sliding Magnus a glass of red wine.

“Not weird, just disruptive,” Alec said so kind and so believable that the girl perked up.

“Well I love to see rich people who call me barkeep unironically disrupted, so you got it,” she said with a smile discreetly pouring out a bottle and refilling it with water before handing a glass to Alec as he dumped a sizeable wad of cash into her completely empty tip jar. God, rich people were cheap.

She’s been steadily serving him since.

Now they find themselves with a man who has to be bordering on 200 years old and it seems Alec decides it’s time to truly get to work.

“All that glitters,” the old man says talking about something that they’ve clearly both been tuning out.

“Glitters?” Alec says a little too loud, just enough so that everyone in their vicinity can hear. “You mean the place on 5th? My ex used to dance there, maybe you saw him, man knew how to work a pole if you know what I mean?” he winks at the old man and Magnus just barely stifles his laughter as the old man steps back in shock. He mumbles something unintelligible looking suddenly ill and paler than he had before and slips away.

Alec tosses back his drink and hands it to a passing woman in a truly hideous pantsuit that is definitely not a server, dragging Magnus along to the table of appetizers. He tosses shrimp into his mouth not bothering with a napkin, rubbing his hands on his ripped-up jeans making direct eye contact with a young woman, no doubt another trophy wife, as he does so. She scrunches up her nose and steps away.

Evidently despite his fairly small work so far he’s made just enough of a scene to garner Asmodeus’ attention once again.

“So, Alec, I assume that colorful vehicle outside is yours?” he says walking up beside the two of them. Their bartender and conspirator comes up just then handing Alec a fresh glass.

Alec smiles at her, before turning to Asmodeus. He’s not acting drunk yet, but he’s bordering on behaving tipsy.

He slings an arm over Magnus’ shoulder and brings him in close. Magnus settles a hand at Alec’s waste enjoying the proximity.

“Yes, that is my sweet Cherry,” he says naming the car on the spot. “Won her in a poker game when I was 18, crashed her three days later and have been patching her back together ever since.”

“A poker game?” Asmodeus questions, clearly becoming more disappointed by the minute.

“Yup,” he says cheerfully popping the p in the word. “Well, I wouldn’t say won directly, more cheated a guy and then fought him for it,” he pauses gesturing to the little sliced scar that runs through his left eyebrow. “That’s how I got this.”

“You wouldn’t believe how many tire irons a high school principal is carrying around,” Alec continues with a snort tossing back half of his drink.

Magnus just nods along in agreement to Alec’s concocted tale. He actually bought the car from his sister’s ex-boyfriend when he was nineteen for 200 bucks, but this story shocks far more.

“You mean to say you fought your principal for your car?” Asmodeus says judgement so very clear in his voice.

“High school, am I right?” Alec shrugs with a chuckle smiling down into his drink. Asmodeus looks appalled.

“Oh, come on don’t look like that father,” Magnus says placing his free hand on Alec’s chest and patting there lightly. Magnus can’t help but notice how solid the chest under his hand is. “I got up to some trouble in high school myself, surely you remember.”

Asmodeus just hums, clearly finding Magnus’ occasional wild parties without permission a dull comparison to the tale Alec just told.

“Never forget the time I streaked and jumped from the guest house roof to the trampoline and right into the pool, nearly broke my arm in the process,” Magnus says with a smile. Alec leans over burying his face in Magnus’ hair, careful not to mess it up, whether it’s to play up the PDA or stifle a laugh Magnus isn’t sure.

They’d had a whole conversation about PDA, Alec promising to respect his boundaries, no kissing and never a hand wandering beneath his waist.

“How could I forget,” Asmodeus says sharply embarrassed by his son’s antics. He turns towards the large windows and looks out to where the porch patio lights illuminate Alec’s car.

“It is so sexy that you did that,” Alec says ignoring Asmodeus and turning towards Magnus. He downs the rest of his drink and meet’s Magnus’ eyes, a question and idea brewing clear in them. Magnus smirks tugging at Alec’s shirt.

“You think so?” he says teasingly.

“Mm hmm,” Alec says biting his lip and Magnus knows this is all a part of the show, but god are those lips tempting.

Magnus catches Asmodeus turning his attention back to them looking outright furious. Magnus pulls away from Alec’s eyes and smiles a bright smile like they’re doing absolutely nothing wrong.

“I’m gonna give Alec the tour,” he says leadingly pulling Alec along by both hands and rushing away from the living room and down the hall before Asmodeus can say a word. He can see Alec’s smirk as he notices the stares of the other guests in the room.

Magnus doesn’t even pay attention to where they’re going as he pulls them into a room just off the right side of the hall.

“How’d you actually get that scar?” Magnus asks once they’re inside shutting the door behind him, no doubt convincing everyone they’re about to get down and dirty.

“Took a hockey stick to the face when I was 17,” he says pulling himself to sit up on a desk. A desk that Magnus now recognizes as his fathers. They’ve pulled themselves into his father’s office and if they get caught in here he’ll never hear the end of it, he loves it.

“You played hockey?” Magnus asks lifting himself up to sit beside Alec on the desk ignoring the papers he accidentally topples to the ground.

Alec nods in the affirmative. “I did, that’s why it’s the only sport I can start heckling fights about, everything else is boring.”

Magnus snorts at that, he’s never been partial to any sport himself.

“Did you really do what you said out there?” Alec asks picking up a notepad and flipping through it mindlessly.

“I did,” Magnus smiles and Alec’s eyebrows both go up. “Don’t look so surprised, you’re not the only one capable of mischief.”

“Oh, I see that,” he says with a smile tossing the notepad back to where he found it. “That is kinda sexy you achieved a jump like that and didn’t get hurt.” He says it with his voice low and all sorts of New York around the edges. He freezes his hand stopping over the spot where he’d been about to pick up the ugly green and bronze sphere shaped paper weight beside him.

Magnus freezes too, Alec saying something like that while they’re alone makes it real, not like the fake flirty way he’d said it out in the living room.

“Sorry, that’s not, I’m sorry, I never cross that line when I do these things, we’re alone and,” Alec runs a frustrated hand through his hair. “Fuck, I’m sorry.”

Magnus shakes his head reaching out and tentatively laying his hand atop Alec’s where it rests on the desk between them.

“It’s okay,” he says and Alec looks at him ready to argue the point. Magnus jumps in stopping him before he can say a word and taking his own leap into making this far more real than fake. “Really, it’s okay. You, uh, you’re not so bad yourself.”

Alec huffs a laugh opening and closing his mouth a few times like he’s looking for the right words to say. The space between them feels a little charged now that they’ve floated out the simple fact there’s a real attraction here. Alec closes his mouth and bites his lip looking determined like he knows what to say finally when the door busts open.

“Oh, my apologies boys,” Marissa says standing in the doorway her hands on her hips and a pleased little smile on her lips. “But dinner is served.”

Magnus and Alec pull away from one another quickly hopping off the desk and stepping towards the door.

“You two are just too cute,” Marissa says when they reach her. She loops each of her arms through one of theirs and tugs them down the hall happily. “Don’t listen to a word your father says.”

Magnus meets Alec’s eyes over her head only to find Alec already looking at him, a soft smile on his lips.

***

Magnus takes his proverbial spot on his father’s right at the head of the table, Marissa doing the same on his left. Despite Asmodeus’ clear attempt to keep Alec as far away from him and Magnus as possible by seating him at the far end of the long table he fails. Luckily one of Marissa’s friends, just as airy and tight dressed as her is seated next to Magnus and happily swaps spots with Alec.

Alec lifts his drink to Asmodeus in a faux toast that Asmodeus doesn’t even feign interest in as he takes his seat.

Dinner is served and it’s to be expected. The sweet potatoes are divine none of that weird marshmallow bullshit in them, the mac and cheese is literally to die for and the homemade bread hits in just the right way. The turkey is terrible, but that’s not at the fault of the overpriced chef that’s just simply because it’s an indisputable fact that turkey tastes like napkins.

Alec eats so much Magnus is concerned, he can tell from the tight fit of his shirt that Alec is in impeccable shape so he doesn’t really know where he puts it all as he goes for his fourth serving of mac and cheese.

But long before his fourth serving of cheesy goodness Alec starts up at least three debates that would be deemed far too impolite for their supposed polite company. Each fresh serving he corners someone new into a debate; first it’s an old lady in a pantsuit pulled into a debate about the existence of god, then a forty something who looks like he’s never seen a rainbow without feeling threatened into a talk on the merits of teaching queer history to children and finally a woman who can’t be much older than them who looks like her name is Tinsley or Ainsleigh or something equally as nauseating into a tense bordering on yelling match about the importance of safe abortion access.

He sounds a little more drunk with every conversation and he’s damn good at faking it. He sounds just the right amount of inebriated not slurring his words too much or fumbling around with his silverware, it’s practiced, a master class in being drunk without being drunk. Most people overplay it acting far more outlandish than a drunk person sitting at a table would, but Alec has it down pact.

Magnus watches him not a care in the world, acting like he doesn’t even notice the disruption Alec is causing. The only person aside from Magnus that doesn’t look increasingly more uncomfortable by the minute is Marissa who looks like she’s having the time of her life watching these stuffy rich people squirm.

Asmodeus of course does not look delighted, he barely eats, just scowls over the rim of his wine glass and attempts to deflect any conversation Alec purposely instigates another way unsuccessfully.

The only time he seems to look like he’s not about to have a coronary is when everyone’s plates are finally collected, Alec still shoveling the last bit of mashed potatoes on his plate into his mouth as one of the waiters lifts the plate away from him, and it’s announced that dinner and coffee will be served in the living room.

Alec stands stretching his arms up over his head and Magnus admires the ripple of his muscles as he does so before standing beside him. Alec reaches over the table picking up yet another glass of water and tossing it back with a loud unnecessary thirst quenched sound before holding out his hand to Magnus. Magnus takes it instantly with a smile following along as they head for the living room once again.

***

A waiter takes their dessert requests, a choice of six different types of pie as they file out of the large dining room.

Magnus selects the pumpkin pie, while Alec chooses the chocolate pecan.

“Pecan, gross,” Magnus says as they work their way over to one side of the room a little bit away from everyone else to have just a moment of reprieve.

“How dare you, pecan pie is delicious,” Alec says sounding outright offended.

Magnus rolls his eyes and crosses his arms making a face that screams Alec is insane to have that opinion.

“It’s all sugar, no substance,” Magnus says. He really shouldn’t be surprised Alec’s favorite pie is one as ridiculously sugar based as pecan considering the amount of sugar he witnessed him dump into his coffee a few days prior. Alec doesn’t even deign him with a response, he just gives him another affronted look like Magnus has insulted his entire being, not a pie.

Moments later a waiter hands them each their requested pies. Alec takes a bite of his pointedly making eye contact with Magnus as he does so and making a pleased obnoxious yum sound. Magnus just rolls his eyes again, amused as he takes a bite of his own pie.

“So, are you enjoying yourself so far this evening?” Magnus asks after a few minutes of companionable silence.

Alec pauses grabbing a coffee from a passing tray and taking a sip, he grimaces a bit at the black coffee before answering Magnus’ question. Out of the corner of his eye Magnus sees his father watching them, almost looking excited to see Alec drinking a coffee, probably hoping it will sober him up.

“Well, your father is kind of terrible, and all these people are exhausting,” he says gesturing with his fork to the room at large after he sits his coffee on the floor next to him. “But despite the fact she may be a little air headed Marissa is lovely and I get a kick out of making rich people as uncomfortable as possible, so it’s been a pretty good night thus far.”

He pauses taking a bite of his pie and looking at Magnus from underneath his thick dark lashes. “Plus, you know, you’re pretty good company as well,” he says tapping his fork to his lips.

Magnus slow blinks at him and smiles.

“You’re pretty good company as well, especially when you’re just being you, like right now, not the overstated bad boy, even if he is a good time,” Magnus says. He reaches out his empty fork and boops Alec on the nose with it, just because. Alec scrunches up his face adorably at the action.

“Well I like you being you too, though it’s kind of fun you’re playing into my whole act, most people just play the none the wiser partner,” Alec says before leaning down and drinking another glug of his coffee. He makes the same cute displeased face again as he swallows.

“Really? No one’s made it seem like you’ve turned them into a crazy bad boy too?” Magnus says surprised. He’s been having a pretty good time being a little more instigative around his father than he usually would be.

Alec shakes his head. “Not really, Dot tackling her family members was a bit of an outlier, and honestly they’re almost never guys.”

“So I’m your first fake boyfriend then, huh?” Magnus says oddly flattered about the possibility.

“Second actually, but still most of the time I get hired by women, there’s a comfort in knowing that your fake date won’t try to make a move,” Alec says taking the last bite of his sickeningly sweet pecan pie.

“I guess I didn’t have a problem with that prospect,” Magnus says smiling around his fork looking right into Alec’s pretty hazel eyes, all dark rimmed and intent on him.

“I guess you didn’t,” he says with a smile putting his empty plate and mug on a passing tray and leaning back comfortably.

Magnus joins him leaning over by one of the sprawling windows casually finishing off his pie looking up to see one of his father’s political friends, a 30 something councilman of some sort, staring at them nearby. Alec, the little devil, winks at him slow and seductive. The councilman bristles and his wife beside him gives Alec an evil stare.

Magnus laughs a little, thinking that’s it for that interaction when suddenly the click of heels approaches them.

“Did you just wink at my husband?” the woman all but screams at Alec causing him to jump up from his slouch against the windows. Her head shakes as she speaks, her clip-on earrings wobbling.

“I,” Alec starts, but she doesn’t let him get in a word before she’s tossing her glass of white wine right at him.

“Oh, shit,” he says surprised and laughing a bit as he scrubs at his face his already messy eyeliner getting even messier in the process.

“Listen, lady I had no intention, your husband was the one staring,” he shouts back sounding a little more drunk than he did at the dinner table, they weren’t planning on Alec picking a fight tonight, but it seems he’s rolling with the one presented to him.

“Why you little, you little-“ she basically shrieks her husband pulling at her arm trying to stop her from taking this any further. Magnus steps in in front of Alec, a stern look of shutting shit down that he learned from his father on his face.

“You will want to watch your next words very carefully, wouldn’t want your husband’s constituents hearing any bigoted language coming from his already,” Magnus pauses surveying her bejeweled dress that looks like she’s going to a bad 80’s themed prom. “Tacky wife.”

She looks angrier at that, but Magnus’ stern look seems to usher her away, allowing her husband to pull her from the room.

The room is dead silent all eyes on them.

“Alright,” Asmodeus’ voice booms, everyone turning his way. “Show’s over, nightcaps will be served by the barkeep in the library shortly why don’t you all head in there,” he says gesturing to the way of the library. He steps over to Magnus and Alec as does Marissa who instantly hands Alec a towel.

“She’s always been a stick in the mud with bad taste,” Marissa says showing her own dislike for the councilman’s wife. “You didn’t do a thing wrong.” She smiles at them both apologetically before linking her arm in Alec’s and pulling him the way of everyone else. Magnus moves to follow, but is stopped by a hand on his chest from Asmodeus.

“We need to talk,” he says leaving no room for argument. Alec looks back at him from where Marissa is still chattering happily to him, a clear question of if he needs to cause a scene to stay with Magnus in his eyes. Magnus waves him on, watching as they go.

He barely waits until Alec and Marissa are out of ear shot to start in on Magnus.

“I know he’s faking it,” Asmodeus says and that is not what Magnus was expecting. He plays dumb though raising his eyebrows in question.

“Don’t act like you don’t what I’m talking about, I’d venture to say from the looks you two share you know all about it as well. You just brought him here and put on this whole show to embarrass me,” Asmodeus continues with a disappointed sigh. “That man hasn’t had a drop of liquor tonight, every action he’s taken hasn’t been some alcohol fueled mistake it’s been purposeful. He’s probably the most sober person here tonight. As far as I’d guess aside from truly being the black sheep of his family name and that truly atrocious car nothing that’s happened here tonight has been real.”

And alright, yeah Magnus definitely wasn’t expecting this. He expected his father to rail on his choice of partner, to knock Alec’s character and behavior and maybe Magnus’ to boot as well. He didn’t expect him to know exactly what’s been going on all night.

“And before you ask how I figured it out, you really should have made sure your date kept better track of his finished glasses, after dinner he left one behind and it didn’t smell of the vodka we’ve all been convinced he’s been downing all night,” Asmodeus explains. “From there a quick search told me the name was at least true. His family really did cut him out judging from his complete disappearance from all events, not that I can blame them, anyone who behaves this atrociously without influence of alcohol just to play a game probably deserves to be cut off.”

Magnus huffs out an unamused laugh at the underlying implications of his statement.

“Is that a threat?” Magnus says steely eyed.

“It could be, if you don’t get him out of here right this instant and promise to never try anything even close to similar to this charade again,” Asmodeus says just as steely eyed and Magnus hates that he learned the look from him.

For a moment he considers just leaving, hightailing it out of there with Alec and not saying a single other word to his father, but he’s tired. He’s 30 and he’s been putting up with his father’s vague threats if he doesn’t play the good little son role since before he could talk practically and he’s just done.

“No, we won’t be leaving,” Magnus says holding his ground. “And as for this charade well I guess I can promise you nothing like this will ever happen again, because I’m done. I’m done playing some perfectly crafted son that I’m not, I’m done acting like we’re a happy little family, like you won’t get bored of poor, sweet Marissa in no time and there’ll be a new wife on your arm who you’ll pay just as little attention to.”

“You’re right, I did do this to embarrass you, to show those fucking fakes in there that you are the fakest amongst them, even more so than all of them combined. Alec may have been playing a role tonight, but he’s ten times more real than you could ever dream to be. Don’t worry about having to cut me off and making a whole big show of it, I haven’t needed you or your money in years,” Magnus says. He straightens out his shirt and stands with his head held high turning on his heel to join Alec in the library.

***

Magnus is frankly riding high on truly stepping up to his father for the first and likely last time in his life when he saunters into the library scanning around to find Alec. He spots him in the corner chatting with Marissa.

“There you are,” Alec says sounding genuinely concerned. Magnus just smiles at him hoping it looks more assuring than it feels.

Marissa reaches out patting him on the cheek lightly. “Don’t listen to whatever he said, he’s just jealous he’s not as outstanding as you,” she says with a smile.

Magnus is struck in that moment with how much his father doesn’t deserve her, she might be a lot to take sometimes, but she is a genuinely kind woman.

“Nor as outstanding as you,” Magnus says with a smile and she blushes at the compliment. He’s ready to follow that up by telling her that she should leave his father’s ass immediately before he gets the chance to toss her to the side, but someone calls out her name and she’s pulled away smiling at them as she goes.

“Ready for the grand finale?” Alec says as soon as Marissa steps away. The grand finale, right, Magnus and Alec had discussed giving one last show before they left for the night if they managed to make it all the way through dessert. And they have, everyone’s nursing nightcaps ready to exit for the evening, but clearly all lingering around to see if Alec does anything else embarrassing or outlandish before they go.

Mere moments ago Magnus was ready to just storm out of here with Alec at his side and maybe ask Alec if he fancied going on a real date for a late-night drink somewhere.

But now with his father storming into the room after him, glaring and judging, looking quite possibly the most upset he’s ever been with Magnus he can’t seem to find a reason to go just yet.

“Let’s do it,” he says and Alec smiles tossing back his water and acting as if there’s a nice vodka burn to it. He grabs a discarded fork from a table nearby and taps it on his now empty glass so hard that it chips just a bit earning everyone’s attention.

“Could I have everyone’s attention please,” he says sounding a little bit like he’s sobered up after the near fight with the councilman’s wife. Most of the room looks their way eagerly like they can’t wait to see what happens next, while a few others apprehensively turn their attention.

“I met this stunning man not all that long ago,” he says laying his hands lightly on Magnus’ shoulders. “But in that short time, I have realized that undisputedly there will never be another for me. From the moment we hooked up in the back of Cherry the night we met,” he says not elaborating at all on that sentence, earning the shocked gasps and confused looks of many. Marissa giggles, Asmodeus seethes not loving this new addition to their fake meet cute story even if he knows it’s all a ruse now. “I knew you were the one, so, Magnus Bane,” he continues on getting down on one knee he pulls the plain silver ring he’s been wearing all night on his middle finger off and presents it to Magnus. “Will you marry me?”

Magnus pretends to be shocked covering his mouth with a gasp. His eyes flit up to where his father stands, looking like he’s about to make some move to physically stop Magnus from answering Alec’s question, like he won’t survive the embarrassment of this room full of people knowing his sons engaged to a degenerate in messed up jeans even if he knows it’s not real. Magnus doesn’t give him the chance immediately looking down at Alec with glassy eyes.

“Yes, Alexander, yes,” he says no longer hiding his amused grin as Alec slips the ring on his finger and lifts up from the ground pulling Magnus into a crushing hug. The room claps tentatively, enthusiastically in Marissa’s case who it seems does not care how insane something is she just loves love. How she ever ended up married to his father, who only truly loves himself, his hardwood floors and his hair is a continual mystery.

“Wanna get the fuck out of here?” Magnus mumbles into Alec’s ear. Alec pulls back from their hug and nods enthusiastically.

“Do I have your permission to bridal carry you out of here?” Alec says lowly ensuring no one can hear him.

“Oh, hell yes,” Magnus says delightedly as Alec lifts him up and makes for the door.

“We’re gonna go celebrate in the back of Cherry again,” Alec announces proudly to the room as he goes. Magnus pats him on the shoulder guiding him to the coat closet where he quickly grabs their jackets, Alec never losing his grip on him.

Asmodeus shouts after them as they head out the door, Alec pausing at his car and planting Magnus down on the ground gently. He tugs at the door three times before it opens gesturing for Magnus to get in as he ignores his father’s bellowing shouts. Alec playfully salutes Asmodeus and slides over the hood of his car bumping into the Porsche beside him setting off it’s car alarm as he lands and slips into the driver’s seat quickly.

He starts the engine peeling out of the space just as Asmodeus reaches the front of the car. Magnus just blatantly ignores him only catching sight of Marissa standing in the door waving their way as they drive off.

***

The ride back is quiet for the first twenty minutes or so, music playing softly as Alec drives drumming his fingers along the steering wheel to the beat.

“My dad figured out you were faking it,” Magnus says with no preamble looking out the window as they go. The roads are mostly empty now people celebrating the holiday into the late hours with their families before waking up at 5 a.m. to Black Friday shop.

“Shit, there goes my Oscar,” Alec says eyes flashing to Magnus quickly with a laugh before focusing back on the road. Magnus chuckles in response.

“Well, it’s an honor just to be nominated,” Magnus smiles tilting his head towards Alec.

Alec snorts a little laugh then turns his head quickly to Magnus once again.

“Did your dad give you a lot of trouble about it?”

“He did, I don’t think I’ll be getting a Christmas invite after I railed back at him,” Magnus says. “But it’s okay. I think it was just a long time coming, bound to happen. Better to get it over with now before I wasted more years trying to seem like I’m something I’m not just to please him.”

Alec comes to a stop at a red light and turns his attention fully to Magnus.

“Are you okay? I mean shitty or not, having a parent cut ties isn’t easy, trust me I know,” he says. Magnus watches him enjoying the way the red of the stoplight cuts through his dark hair.

Magnus takes a deep breath and gives Alec a small assuring smile.

“I will be,” he says, truly meaning it. The fallout with his father is a lot, but he will be okay. He’s lived without his father being truly present in any form since the day his mother walked out on them, this new world where he’s likely all cut off isn’t anything new really. He’ll manage, hell he might even thrive without the chains of his father’s expectations weighing on him now.

The light turns green and they lapse back into comfortable silence for the rest of the ride, Magnus completely endeared as he listens to Alec mumbling the lyrics to every other song that comes on the radio under his breath.

When they pull up to the curb outside of Magnus’ house Alec steps out first ever the gentleman helping Magnus with the finicky passenger side door.

He holds out a hand helping Magnus out and smiles when he drops it shutting the door tight.

“Well, thank you for the free meal and the fun night of mischief,” Alec says leaning back against his Thunderbird. His eyeliner is a mess and there’s a faint dried spot along his white shirt stained from the wine incident, he looks beautiful under this streetlight and Magnus wants more night like this. Well maybe not exactly like this one, it’s been a bit of rollercoaster for him emotionally, but nights with Alec all the same.

“Go out with me,” he says not even framing it as a question. He knows Alec is interested too has seen it in the moments where he was just being himself and the appreciative glances he’s given Magnus all night that clearly weren’t just a part of the show he was putting on. And that doesn’t even cover their coffee the other day, the easy way they’d talked and just clicked right off the bat.

“For real, not a fake date or a bad boyfriend show, a real date,” Magnus clarifies when he notices Alec’s surprise.

“I’d like that a lot,” Alec says pushing off the car. He steps a little closer to Magnus leaving just a bit of distance for Magnus to clear if he wants. Magnus does want so he steps up not quite touching Alec, but close enough all he’d have to do is raise a hand. It feels almost like when they were in his father’s office tonight, but even better because they’re alone for real now, there’s no show and no chance of interruptions.

“I need the record to show that I literally never do this, not once, I haven’t even been interested, let alone made any sort of action to make something real out of one of these fake dates,” Alec says low and sincere keeping his eyes on Magnus’ the entire time making sure the words are clear. “You are entirely the exception.”

“Entirely exceptional, actually,” he adds on with a smile. Magnus smiles reaching out his hands to rest on Alec’s chest.

“So are you,” he says patting his hands twice where they rest. “And I believe you aren’t just doing this to pick up hot guys, no worries.” He says with a chuckle and Alec rolls his eyes.

“What are you doing tomorrow night?” Alec asks.

“Nothing, no classes until next Tuesday and most of my friends are out of town for family dinners and what not. I’m as free as a bird,” he says blinking his eyes just a bit flirtatiously at Alec.

“Good, we should get dinner, no family, no bullshit, just us,” Alec says tentatively resting his hands on Magnus’ waist.

“I like the sound of that,” Magnus says lifting up to kiss Alec on the cheek softly just once before pulling back.

“I’ll text you with a time and place in the morning,” he says slowly stepping backwards holding Alec’s steady gaze as he goes. He turns just for a moment putting his key’s in the door and pushing it open before turning back. “Goodnight, Alexander.” He says and watches as Alec smiles a dazzling smile before rounding the car and opening the driver’s side door.

“Goodnight, Magnus,” he says before slipping into his car. Magnus watches with a smile as he pulls away from the curb, his bright red ridiculous Thunderbird speeding away. The smile doesn’t leave his face as he makes his way all the way up to his apartment, so much so that he’s pretty sure his cat is judging him all the way to bed.

***

One Year Later

Magnus’ phone buzzes insistently his ringtone blaring on the nightstand.

“Stop that,” he says weakly reaching out an arm to silence it, his hand falling to the nightstand and coming up empty once, twice, three times while it continues to ring. It’s far too loud and far too early on a holiday with no responsibilities for this.

A chuckle comes from above him and warmth reaches over brushing his fingers before gripping the phone and pulling back.

“Magnus Bane’s phone,” Alec answers his voice a little lower and rougher than usual from sleep. It’s a very nice sound. Magnus can’t hear who’s on the other end of the line, but when he flips over he sees Alec smile and perk up a bit leaning back against the headboard.

“Yeah it is Alec, it’s good to know you remember me, Marissa,” he says and Magnus raises an eyebrow he’s only heard from his father’s wife once since last Thanksgiving, an apologetic text on his father’s behalf. His father on the other hand hasn’t so much as sent a sternly worded email in that time.

“Yeah, he’s here, hold on sec,” Alec says, he lowers the phone offering it to Magnus who grumbles a bit lifting himself up and leaning against the headboard next to Alec.

“Hi, Marissa,” he says clearing his throat a bit.

“Magnus!” she shouts into his ear and he jumps back a bit, from the both the volume and from shock hearing that she’s finally dropped her terrible nickname for him. “I was glad to hear Alec answer the phone, I knew you two were a good match, even if it was all a show that night.”

“Ah,” Magnus says. “So father told you.”

“He did, but it doesn’t change that you two are the cutest,” she says. “Which speaking of your father,” she starts and Magnus is ready to shoot down any attempt at reuniting she’s trying to pull here. Marissa is a nice woman, but his father’s silence in the past year has spoken volumes, he’s not playing into a reconciliation he can’t even make the call for.

“I left him,” she says finishing her sentence. Magnus huffs out a little surprised laugh that Alec raises an eyebrow at, well good for her. “About a month ago and I know it’s incredibly short notice and you might have other plans, but I’m having a little Thanksgiving dinner of my own with a few friends this year and I’d love to see you. And Alec too, of course!”

Magnus smiles, they’d had a Friendsgiving slash one year anniversary celebration over the weekend with Raphael, Cat, Dot, Ragnor and Alec’s siblings, tonight’s plans were likely going to consist of Chinese takeout on the couch and making out. And while Marissa can be a lot she was always kind, and he can’t help but recall how supportive she’d been that night a year ago. He can’t find it in himself to turn down her offer because of it.

“We’d love to,” he says and Alec looks at him again in question. Magnus just waves a hand signaling he wait a moment for explanation. On the other end of the line Marissa claps excitedly.

“Yay!” she says. “I’ll text you my address, I’m in the city now so Alec might have to leave Cherry at home.”

Magnus laughs. “Oh, he might bring her anyways.”

He chats idly with Marissa for a few more minutes before disconnecting and promising they’ll be on much better behavior this year for dinner.

“Marissa left my father,” Magnus says as soon as he’s hung up and tossed his phone back on the nightstand. Alec smiles looking just as oddly proud for her as Magnus feels. “And we’re having Thanksgiving with her and some friends tonight.”

“Good for her,” he says flipping back the covers and getting out of bed. “Should I get out the eyeliner and torn up jeans for tonight just for old times’ sake, or no?”

He smirks standing gloriously naked in front of the dresser rustling through one of his drawers. His drawers. Magnus isn’t quite used to the lovely novelty of the fact that Alec lives with him now. It’s been about two months since they made it official and just seeing one of Alec’s crappy romance novels on the coffee table or his shitty leather jacket hanging in its permanent space in their closest still makes him feel all sorts of tingly.

Magnus hums in thought rising up from bed and moving to lean against the dresser beside Alec. He’d pay good money to get Alec to wear eyeliner more often frankly.

“I think you should bring both of those things out as often as you’d like,” he says reaching out a hand and cupping Alec’s cheek turning it towards him. The feel of Alec’s soft, shaven skin is something he also isn’t quite used to. For the first time in their year together he’d shaved off his beard entirely, completely out of the blue and for no other reason than he’d had a day off and was bored. He’s as handsome as ever, but Magnus had quite literally had to do a double take when he came home and saw Alec sitting on the couch.

“Do try and leave the illustrious tales of our sexual escapades at home this time though, darling,” he says with a smile. He’s mostly joking, but now that their sexual escapades are real and not fictionalized he’d like to keep them just between them.

“Damn, well there goes all my dinner conversation topics,” Alec says with a wicked little smile.

“Menace,” Magnus says as he slides his hand down from Alec’s face to his chest with a shake of his head.

Magnus runs his fingers lightly through the hair on Alec’s chest stopping to rest on the stark black tattoo on his lower abdomen. And boy hadn’t it been a blissful discovery to see that ink when he finally got Alec’s shirt off for the first time. He trails his fingers over the shape of it lightly, knowing exactly what he’s doing.

“If you keep doing that we’ll never leave this room,” Alec says his lips tilting up in a little pleased smirk.

“Doing what?” Magnus says innocently still moving his fingers over the shape of the tattoo lightly.

“And you say I’m the menace,” Alec says leaning in to kiss him on the lips once hard and bruising. “We need to shower.” He says stepping away from Magnus. Magnus’s hand falls and he pouts laying it on a bit thick. Alec pointedly attempts to ignore it.

“Together?” Magnus says with a hopeful smile.

Alec rolls his eyes. “I feel like despite having literal hours to get ready we’ll end up late somehow if we do,” he says eyeing Magnus’ bare form appreciatively. “But there’s no way I can say no to that.”

Magnus smirks pushing himself off the dresser and right up against Alec.

“Damn straight,” he says before leaning in to lay a teasing, promising kiss on his lips.

“There is absolutely nothing straight about this,” Alec says with a toothy smile once he’s pulled back already tugging Magnus into the bathroom for their shower. Magnus laughs loud and bright as he’s dragged along.

***

Impossibly despite literal hours, Alec’s right, showering together does prolong the entire process of getting out of the apartment when showering becomes shower sex, which becomes another round on the bathroom counter which results in needing to shower again, separately this time much to both their dismays.

Eventually though, they’re dressed and ready. Magnus finishes up the last touches on his hair, adjusting the bright almost golden streak at the front of it which compliments the golden chained pattern of his shirt. He picks up the ring Alec fake proposed to him with last year and twists it onto his right-hand ringer finger with a smile. They obviously aren’t actually engaged, but increasingly lately Magnus finds himself thinking about making it real.

He gives himself one last once over in the mirror before stepping out of the bathroom to find Alec sitting cross legged on their bed and Magnus is nearly sent back in time to a year ago.

He’s wearing the jeans and boots just like he had that night, his eyeliner is in place a little less messy but still unpracticed and his hair is its usual tussled self. The shirt is almost the same, this time it’s one Magnus gave him with subtle lines of shiny black at the collar and cuffs, the little black loops in his ears are a gift from Magnus as well.

It’s a perfect combination of that first night when they were a fake couple out to cause mayhem and the couple they are now, a royal we couple that are so deep in love Magnus has to just take a few breaths in sometimes to remember this is all real.

“Ready to go?” Alec asks looking up at Magnus with a smile. Magnus nods as Alec stands throwing on his leather jacket with the hole in it he refuses to fix. Magnus follows suit grabbing his own jacket and following Alec out as he grabs his keys and wallet scratching the heads of both cats curled up on the back of the couch as he goes.

“We could take the subway you know?” Magnus says once they’re in the elevator, Alec twirling the keys to his Thunderbird around his finger.

Alec scrunches up his face adorably. “No way,” he says gesturing for Magnus to step out first when they reach the lobby. “Cherry helping us fight through Thanksgiving traffic is gonna be a lifelong tradition for us.”

Lifelong Magnus likes the sound of that, but he is dubious that Alec’s precious car will last anywhere near that long.

Alec rushes to the car parked proudly and loudly right in front of their building unlocking it and pulling four times on the passenger door before getting it open.

He smiles at Magnus gesturing with an overstated bow for him to get in and Magnus rolls his eyes but can’t seem to hide his smile and Alec knows it. He shuts the door once Magnus is in and in a move reminiscent of their escape from his father’s last year slides over the hood before slipping into his own seat and starting the car driving off to a much better Thanksgiving than the year before.

#my fic #malec #magnus bane #alec lightwood #shadowhunters #malec fic

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perfeggso · 4 years

Text

I don’t want a lot (Johnny x Reader)

I wrote this as part of @suh-insane’s walking in a winter wonderland collab, so thanks to her for hosting! Happy holidays and I hope y’all enjoy ❄️☺️

Genre: domestic fluff

Characters: Johnny, fem! reader, Ten

Warnings: nothing really just mentions of bad things that have happened this year lol. It’s a very...2020 fic. Also I guess some language. Also, smoking pot.

Rating: teen and up

Length: 3.5k

My movie quote is “They can’t evict you on Christmas! Then you’d be ho-ho-homeless!”

December 18th 2020, 4:37 p.m.

“Knock, knock!” You pound your fist against the wooden door in front of you, then pull your coat tighter around you. You’d moved to Chicago five years ago for college, and you’re still not sure if you’ll ever adjust to the snowy winter months. It was at said college that you met,

“Johnny Suh!” You bang a fist on the door three more times. “I know you’re in there. Take your headphones off, you dumbass.”

You’re about to pull your phone out of your pocket and go to the trouble of removing a glove to text your boyfriend when you hear the door unlock from the inside, a metallic tumbling sound.

When the door opens all the way, Johnny is standing just past the threshold of his apartment, his catlike lips curled up at the edges. He’s wearing grey sweatpants and a blue flannel, and his freshly dyed blond hair falls to where his headphones rest around the base of his neck. You can hear Nirvana coming from them because you are dating a stereotype.

Johnny leans his large frame against the side of the door where he had been holding it and smirks, but there’s nothing but softness behind the expression.

“Long time no see, sicko,” he teases.

You roll your eyes as he moves to let you pass into the entryway of his and Ten’s shoebox dwelling.

“You look even more like a deadbeat than you did a month ago,” you say, not moving because your clothing is starting to drip melting snow onto the floor and you don’t even know where to begin with taking it off. “This is proof you need me around taking care of you.”

Johnny pushes off the door and closes it, pausing his music. He crowds close and starts unwrapping your scarf so you don’t have to think about it anymore, shakes some of the slush off it so it pools at your feet, and hangs it on the coat rack. He does the same with your puffer jacket.

“Aw,” he pouts, “you don’t like the new color?” He tries to remove your beanie too, but it was part of your Outfit, so you yank it back down onto your head and give Johnny puppy dog eyes, choosing to ignore the way your heart rate picks up a little from the proximity. Hey, isolation was rough, okay? Johnny tucks your hair behind your ears instead.

“No, baby,” you say, starting to toe off your snow boots. “I love it. It’s very Disney prince, but simultaneously very… Kurt Cobain.” Johnny smiles and lets you finish stripping your winter gear, walking his way back towards his sofa until he’s sitting, legs wide. Snow falls in flurries past the window behind him. “It’s just that, I dunno, you look like you’ve been spending more time on Reddit or something.” Johnny sulks jokingly at your ribbing as you hang up your purse and try not to fixate on how cold the indoor air still is. “I can tell you haven’t gotten laid in a while,” you continue. “Oh wait! I forgot you have Ten around for that.”

Now it’s Johnny who’s rolling his eyes, but he doesn’t seem too offended because he beckons you over to sit with him. You follow his gesture, skipping towards him until you can curl into his side on the couch. He removes his headphones and lays his head against the crown of yours, taking your hand softly.

“It’s not my fault my girlfriend abandoned me for a month,” he complains, rubbing his thumb over yours.

This makes you chuckle. Oh, how you’ve missed him. “If that’s what you call ‘considerately protecting you from the Novel Coronavirus’,” you joke, “then I guess, but I refuse to apologize for doing my civic duty.”

Your case hadn’t been bad, but it was a logistical nightmare. You’d spent two weeks in total isolation, nursing a cough, guzzling hard alcohol straight to see if you could taste it, sending your best friend out to shop for you, and thanking your lucky stars for having a job that would let you work from home. You’d spent the next two waiting to test negative for the virus and a positive for antibodies. Johnny was initially distraught when you told him, sending you cloying messages and calling everyday to see if your symptoms were getting better or worse. Once you’d convinced him you weren’t dying though, he went back to his usual obnoxious self, joking about planning your funeral and accusing you of faking it to avoid him.

Johnny pulls you tighter into his side. “Whatever,” he concedes. “Is it safe to kiss you yet?”

You look up at him and shrug. “Nothing’s 100% but…”

That’s all the reassurance he needs to pull you into his lap and connect your lips. It's soft and languid, and you hold each other through it. His arms are so solid around your waist it simultaneously makes your heart flutter and makes you feel like you could relax and take a nap right here and now. When you pull away, Johnny runs his hands along your figure, as if to reassure himself you’re really there. The smile he gives you glows, but only for a moment. You curl yourself into the crook of his neck and place the back of your hand on his cheek, tender. His skin there scratches yours just the tiniest bit.

“I missed you,” he says, chuckling.

“Mm-hm, I missed you too,” you reply. “How are you, anyway? You said you had something to tell me?”

“Oh, yeah,” he says. He maneuvers you off his lap to sit by his side, and from this angle you can truly tell that he’s going sheepish. Suddenly it feels like there’s an alien hand in your stomach. What could this possibly be about? Johnny’s nervous silence gets your brain spinning – a zoetrope of stupidity. Am I being broken up with? No – obviously not. Does he have a family member dying of COVID? I fucking hope not; that’d be complicated on multiple levels. Maybe it’s good? Maybe he finally got a job offer but he has to move away or something.

Johnny starts talking before your mind can come up with any other ridiculous hypotheses.

“We’re getting evicted.”

You furrow your brow. Had you misheard him? You shake your head, incredulous. Johnny and Ten had always maintained a good relationship with their landlord. It didn’t make sense for everything to turn on a dime, even if they were struggling financially.

“You’re kidding,” is all you manage to say.

Johnny just purses his lips and raises his eyebrows as if to say, “it is what it is.”

What he really says is that he wishes he was kidding, but he’s not.

“Oh my god,” you respond, crossing your arms in irritation at, well, at everything lately. “Fuck! When is this happening?”

Johnny sighs. “Technically in a week.”

You feel the cogs of your post-COVID brain start to crank against each other. A week from today would be…hold on,

“Wait,” you say, as the situation starts to appear more and more ridiculous. “Like exactly a week from today? Like on Christmas? You’re being evicted on literal Christmas?” You’re trying really hard not to raise your voice, even if it’s clear that if you did, it would be out of indignation on Johnny’s behalf. You’re obviously not upset with him.

Johnny’s eyes roll around in their sockets as if this is the first time he’s contemplated the exact timing.

“Well, yeah, I guess a week from today is Christmas…”

The absurdity of this all is getting to you, and you can’t help it, you start to laugh. It’s that kind of nihilistic, fuck-all laughter that’s been one of the few things getting you through this year.

“They can’t evict you on Christmas!” you quote. “Then you’d be ho-ho-homeless!”

Johnny looks at you blankly for a second, so you contort your face into that open expression universally recognized as the “get it?” face.

“From Go?” You hint. “C’mon, Johnny boy.”

And before his nickname can fully escape your mouth, your boyfriend is cutting you off with a long sound of recognition and doubling over his lap in giggles.

“Good one,” he says into his right knee, and you giggle along with him. “Wholly inappropriate, but clever nonetheless.”

“Why, thank you,” you say, enjoying the levity, but unable to uproot the feeling of dread in your gut at Johnny’s conundrum.

Go is one of you and Johnny’s favorite movies to watch around Christmastime, mostly because it’s only tangentially related to Christmas, it’s kitschy and ridiculous, and has a plot that is 90% crime. You’re surprised he didn’t catch the reference more quickly, but to his credit, he has more pressing worries taking up mental space.

“Where is Ten, anyway?” you ask, looking around performatively at the messy and claustrophobic room. A silver plastic Christmas tree twinkles on a table in the corner. “Have you two talked about a plan yet?”

“He’s grocery shopping,” Johnny explains. “He’ll be home soon. And yeah, we have an idea.”

“You do? Because you could always move in with me.”

Johnny scrunches his face up. “I would love to live with you.” Your heart rattles a little in excitement, even though you know there will be a ‘but.’ Johnny goes on, “but you know both of us wouldn’t fit in your apartment. Where would Ten sleep? Or put his stuff? We’d all be on top of each other.”

You nod, defeated because you know he’s right.

“Hey,” Johnny says, “but we can always have the ‘moving in’ conversation again, okay?”

“Okay,” you say, grabbing his hand. “Sounds good.”

It suddenly feels very dark in the apartment (it’s still chilly enough you think you might be able to see your breath, but you aren’t about to complain because you know there’s a very good reason for that), so Johnny pushes himself up off the couch to turn on a couple of lamps.

“So,” he says, facing you from across the room, “we’re gonna be evicted on Christmas, no matter what the cinematographic masterpiece that is Go tells us is right or wrong. Christmas is just as much of a capitalist construction as our rent, after all.”

You’re about to pipe up again about how fucked that is and how surely they can come to some sort of agreement with the landlord, but Johnny anticipates this and keeps talking.

“We tried to argue, babe, but as I know you know, we don’t exactly have much of a leg to stand on.”

Johnny is right. Again. How many months behind were they on rent at this point? They’d gotten a few months delayed back in spring, but they still owed everything that built up from that before the end of the year, and they’d blown through their stimulus check a long time ago. Johnny has tried to find work, but the theater business hasn’t exactly been booming. Ten, for his part, is able to make a bit of money doing freelance illustration and teaching dance classes over Zoom from his room, but his studio’s engagement has dropped since March and he still unfortunately gets paid per student. You can’t help wanting to punch a wall in frustration at how unfair this all is, but it’s not like any of it comes as a shock. You’re not naïve. You and Johnny met at a leftist theory club for Christ’s sake.

“We’re helping organize a rent strike,” Johnny says, calming you down. Finally, a glimmer of hope. “We’re not the only ones in the building going through it right now, and we know a lot of the tenants who aren’t being evicted well enough we can convince them to join.”

Right then, the front door flies open and thwacks a startled Johnny in the back.

“I’m home!” Ten calls from behind a sack of groceries. You can’t even see his face yet. “I’m terribly sorry,” he directs at Johnny, then heaves the bag of food onto the kitchen counter which is also sort of in the middle of the living room.

“Ooh,” he coos when he sees you, still sat on the couch. “The missus is back!” He strips himself of his winter coat, ignoring your scoffing and revealing an oversized red and white striped sweater. He shimmies against the cool air and lets out a sort of squeal. “I was not built for this actual winter shit.”

“Hi, Ten,” you say once he finishes his theatrics. “Missed you.”

Ten shoots a sappy pout your way. “I miss you too. I’m so glad you’re feeling better! You have no idea how morose Johnny got without you constantly around. Can I give you a hug?”

You nod and try to warm up Ten’s tiny frame with yours while Johnny mutters something about Ten not knowing what “morose” means. When you break away, Johnny is rifling through the week’s haul to put things away.

“I see you didn’t go off-brand for the ramen,” Johnny remarks, stacking several Shin bowls in the cupboard. He turns to Ten with a raised brow. “Big spender.”

“They didn’t have anything else but if you would answer your damn phone I could have called and asked you about it.”

“I answer my phone,” Johnny grumbles, stowing some orange juice away in the fridge.

“Besides,” Ten continues, ignoring his roommate, “since I’m the only one making any money in this household I figured I’d give myself some discretion for spending it.”

Johnny grimaces, and you figure this is where you should probably step in.

“We were just talking about the rent strike, Ten. Johnny was filling me in.”

Ten turns his attention back to you, letting Johnny house the food items in peace.

“We’ll see how it goes,” says Ten, looking out the window just past your shoulder, “but I’m letting myself hope a little bit. As far as I’m concerned, they’ll be kicking my corpse out of here before they put me on the streets.”

Johnny scoffs. “Always so dramatic.”

“Says the former theater major.”

“Touché.”

You’d missed the ‘old married couple’ dynamic your boyfriend has with his roommate.

“But really, just, please try not to get the cops involved,” you plead. “I don’t want anyone getting hurt.”

“We’ll see what we can do,” says Johnny as he closes the last cabinet and crinkles the brown paper bag up for storage.

Ten shrugs. “No promises.”

You sigh.

Once everything is good and settled a few moments later, Ten decides the apartment needs a more festive atmosphere, so that’s how you end up getting dragged down the short hallway to Johnny’s room while Ten belts Mariah Carey’s “All I Want for Christmas is You” from the living room and accuses Johnny of being a scrooge. Even still, Johnny sways playfully from side to side as he walks backwards, shimmying his shoulders and mouthing the words with a smile between protestations that this is “not how I envisioned finally spending time again with my girlfriend!” The way he buries his hands into the sleeves of his flannel to make sweater paws makes your heart so full you want to curl up and die. But, moving on.

Once in his bedroom, Johnny flicks on a warm-hued lamp and watches fondly as you collapse on the bed.

“I really did miss you guys,” you say for what feels like the hundredth time in an hour.

Johnny’s lips press into a little smile. “Yeah. We missed you. A lot. Especially me – you have no idea.”

You laugh sardonically. “Based on your text messages, I think I actually do have an idea.”

Johnny flops down on top of you, crushing you a bit.

“Oh really?” he asks, raising an eyebrow. His golden hair is falling in your face and it tickles, but Johnny halts any laughter with a kiss, then dots tiny kisses all over your cheeks and nose. They tickle too.

“You wanna smoke?”

“Sure.”

Johnny has a pre-rolled joint on his bedside table, and you watch him light it, feeling like you’re in a snow globe with the fall of snowflakes outside. The sky is that weird greyish off-yellow that only comes with a snowy night.

After a couple of hits, Johnny lies back down next to you and hands you the joint. The smoke brings you that usual tight feeling, like your lungs are shrinking but at the same time swimming in radiant heat. You don’t know if you should technically be doing this right after COVID, but you’re young and your body is resilient; you figure you’ll be fine. Besides, you can already feel the pleasant lightness setting in around your mind. It’s a placebo at this point, no doubt, but the relaxed anticipation is nice. You take note of the fact that Johnny had started playing music while you were thinking about lungs. The Strokes’ “Under Control” is doing battle with Ten’s Christmas tunes still seeping in through the cracks in the door.

You hand Johnny his joint back and roll onto your side, supporting your head with one hand and curling the other into Johnny’s abundant hair.

“I just want to say one more time,” you begin, “if worse comes to worst, you can always move in with me.”

Johnny takes another hit and holds it for a second, leaving you in anticipation.

“I know,” he says simply. “But I really think this’ll work. I have to, right? Besides, if Ten had to hear us fucking multiple times a week we would all start to regret living together. That, I can promise.”

You laugh, burying your increasingly silly-feeling head into Johnny’s chest. “Okay, fair.”

There’s stillness for a few beats where you just count your and Johnny’s breaths, trying to synch them up. This doesn’t work though, since Johnny’s lungs are bigger. Then,

“There’s no way your parents would lend you some money?” Your voice comes out quiet. “Or let you stay with them for a while?”

Johnny looks down at you, letting out a heavy sigh. “No, no. That wouldn’t be a good idea for…so many reasons. Besides, they don’t exactly have an extra few months worth of Chicago rent lying around either.”

You nod against Johnny’s chest. “I figured,” you say. “Just checking.”

Johnny brushes his fingers through your hair and kisses your part. “I appreciate your concern,” he says, offering a slightly sly smile.

You kiss the white fabric of his undershirt. It’s been so long since the two of you just laid together, and it feels better than you could have hoped, Johnny’s body heat helping to alleviate some of the cold of an apartment gradually losing its utilities. You wish you could get closer than chest to chest. You kind of wish you could burrow into him, but not in a weird way, you know?

“I believe in you guys,” you say. “However I can help, I will.”

“Thanks.”

Apparently, Johnny is done with talking, because he pulls you in for a warm kiss. Then, he gets the brilliant idea to shotgun the pot smoke. This activity quickly devolves into a very giggly makeout session, only to be interrupted by Ten’s voice outside the door.

“I’m opening the door in five seconds, you guys,” he says, “and if Johnny’s dick is out when I get in there, I’m evicting both of you myself!”

You and Johnny fall together laughing as Ten cautiously cracks the door. He swats at the air in disapproval.

“Stinks…” he remarks. “Oh, thank god you’re decent. Anyway, John, if the lady is staying for the evening, you both need to come help cook dinner, because I am not your housemaid, even if I do look good in a maid costume. Chop-chop.”

It takes way too long to get up out of bed because Ten, as usual, has made both you and Johnny absolutely lose it. Eventually, you manage to rise, but Johnny pulls you quickly back against his lap.

“Hey!”

“Just a minute.” He presses one last kiss under your left ear. “I love you.”

You can feel your skin tingle, although it might just be the weed. Either way, you’ll never tire of hearing that. “I love you too, Johnny.”

“I think Mariah was right,” Johnny whispers, voice displaying mock awe as if he were coming to a mind blowing realization. “All I want for Christmas is you.”

You give him a sympathy chuckle because that was kind of cute, in a corny way, and Johnny just swats your ass a little in response to get you back up to standing.

“Well, you and some basic shelter would be ideal,” Johnny deadpans. “I don’t think that’s too much to ask but I guess we’ll see.” You smile sympathetically. This strike is no doubt going to make for a stressful week, but you’re glad it’s starting like this.

“Hey, love birds!” Ten hollers from the kitchen.

“C’mon,” you say with a laugh. “Let’s not leave him waiting any longer.”

#my fanfic #my work #nct #nct 127 #nct fanfic #nct johnny #johnny suh fanfic #johnny suh fluff #johnny suh #christmas fic #neothestars #johnny x reader #nct ten #chittaphon leechaiyapornkul

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albertasunrise · 4 years

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No More - Chapter 2

Summary: Frankie has been your best friend since you were in the 2nd grade. You were each other’s first’s, he, your first love and as you’d both gotten older you always somehow fell into bed together after one too many drinks with the boys. You don’t know how much longer you can keep this up but fate has other plans for you both and events are set in motion to decide for you.

Warnings: Explicit, Unprotected sex, blood and injury, mentions of abortion, unplanned pregnancy - 18+

Pairings: Frankie/ Reader

Benny was worried. He’d been trying to get hold of you for the last two weeks but you were ignoring all his attempts to contact you. Your car hadn’t moved since that night. He knows this as he drives past your house every day to get to and from work. The longer your radio silence goes on the more he worried he is that something more serious had been going on when you’d left that night saying you’d been unwell that week. He finally decided enough was enough and decided to stop at yours on his commute home. Parking his truck in front of yours he sprinted across the lawn and rang the bell, tapping his foot impatiently as he waited for you to answer.

‘Benny?’ You say with a bemused expression plastered across your face ‘What are you doing here?’

‘I was worried about you.’ He states, taking in your haggard appearance and red-rimmed eyes ‘I’ve been trying to get hold of you for like two weeks but you’ve just ignored me.’ He pauses, trying to rein in his anger ‘What the hell is up with you?’

‘I uh...’ You think for a moment about what to say but decide there's no point in hiding it ‘I’m pregnant Ben.’ You reply and shock spreads across his face.

‘Wha- how?’

‘I uh... Had an encounter a few months back and well turns out my birth control failed and I’m pregnant.’ You explain, scrubbing a hand over your tired face.

‘Who’s the father.’

‘That doesn’t matter.’ You reply, shaking your head ‘He made it quite clear he doesn’t want kids so-‘

‘You have to tell him, babe.’ Says Benny, giving you his signature sad eye look that's almost impossible to resist ‘He at least deserves to know about the kid if you're planning on keeping it!’

You knew he was right. You had to tell Frankie but you didn’t know how to. How do you tell someone who cheated on his girlfriend with you that your birth control failed and you were now pregnant with his child... and keeping it!

What if he asks you to get rid of it?

Could you ever look at him again after that?

‘You clearly have a lot to think about so I’ll go.’ Says Benny as he gives your arm a gentle squeeze ‘Before I do. Will and I were planning on having a movie night tomorrow. Why don’t you come? Take your mind off of things for a while.’

You think about it for a moment before nodding in agreement. A movie night would be a good distraction and you’d missed Benny and Will. What harm would it do? He says his goodbyes and sprints back to his car, waving at you as he reverses onto the road and drives away and leaving you to ponder what you were going to do next. It felt good to tell someone. Get it off your chest but now you needed to plan what you were going to tell the father and when you going to do it.

‘She lives!.’ Says Will as he pulls you into a hug.

‘Ah, there’s my favourite lady!’ Squeals Ben.

‘Indeed.’ You chuckle as grin at him ‘Sorry for going MIA on you guys.’

‘It's cool.’ He replies, smiling sweetly ‘Benny kinda told me the sitch... You told the father yet?’

‘The father of who?’

Your stomach sinks as you turn your head to see Frankie stood there with a beer in each hand and a rather shocked expression on his face. Your mouth starts to move but your words seem to escape you. Of course, he’d be at movie night. Of course, he’s at everything the guys do.

‘Are you?’ He points at your now slightly swollen stomach and you simply nod.

‘Shit!.’ He exclaims, his eyes flying open in surprise ‘How far along?’

‘Uh- around 3 months.’ You reply as your hand settles on your small bump.

‘Wow, congrats!’ He says as he raises a beer in cheers.

It’s clear he hasn’t put two and two together. That 3 months ago you fucked each other in your kitchen. That 3 months ago he cheated on his girlfriend with you. You nod your thanks to him and head into the kitchen with Ben, smiling when he hands you a non-alcoholic beer.

‘Didn’t want you to feel left out.’ He chuckles ‘I’m sorry about Will blurting it out like that. I figured you wouldn’t have minded me telling him though.’

'It’s fine Ben.’ You say sweetly as you kiss his cheek ‘Not like I can hide it now that I look permanently bloated.’

‘I can’t believe you’re showing already.’ He says as he places one of his large hands on your small bump.

‘Is it your's Ben?’ Asks Frankie as he appears in the kitchen, the look in his eyes making you shiver.

‘No, you douche.’ He replies, punching his friend in the arm.

‘What did you and Emily decide to do in the end?’ You ask, your tone a little colder than you’d meant it to be.

‘We uh... We terminated it.’ He replies, shrugging his shoulders ‘She doesn’t want kids and I don’t either so...’ He trails off as he takes a swig of his beer ‘I never knew you wanted them, Lazo?’

Your stomach is twisting in knots at his statement but you manage to force your words out ‘Yeah.’ You reply, nodding in confirmation ‘I’ve always wanted them. This wasn’t exactly how I’d planned it but you know. Shit happens for a reason.’

‘So you told the father yet?’ Asks Benny as he gives your arm a gentle squeeze.

Your eyes flit to Frankie before returning to Ben ‘Yeah I did.’ You lie, trying to swallow past the lump in your throat ‘He wants nothing to do with it.’ You finish, venom dripping from every word.

‘Shit.’ Ben pulls you into a hug and you allow a single tear to fall ‘At least you gave him the option.’ He states and you nod, unable to say any more for fear you’ll slip up ‘You’ve got us! We’ll be the best damn uncles that kid’ll ever have.’

You smile at that before looking at Frankie who’s smiling sweetly at you and suddenly you regret lying. Perhaps you should tell him. Maybe it’ll be different because it's you. You shake the thought from your head.

Don’t be ridiculous... He loves her not you.

Movie night goes as smoothly as it can considering the circumstances. When it was over you thanked them for the distraction and then walked to your car, jumping when Frankie’s hand grabs your wrist before you can open your door.

‘Frankie wha?-.’

‘Three months ago we slept together.’ He states. His tone a little panicked.

So he had put two and two together.

‘Yes, Frankie I remember.’ You growl as you pull your wrist from his grasp ‘What’s your point?’

‘Is that my baby?’ He comes straight out with it and your mouth goes dry ‘Please tell me that’s not my baby and it’s just some random guy's that you met at a bar.’

‘What if it is yours?’ You spit, his words lighting a fire within you ‘What if it was?’

‘I... I’d want you to get rid of it.’ He replies and you slap him.

‘Good thing it isn’t then.’ You lie, opening the door and climbing into your car but as you go to close the door he stops you.

‘Are you lying to me?’ He asks, his tone panicked ‘Please Lazo be honest with me. I’d be a shit father... No kid deserves me as their dad.’

Your heart breaks a little for him as you see the genuine pain in his eyes.

‘No... I’m not lying to you.’ You surprise yourself with how easily you lie to him ‘I went out on a girls night a few days before and took a guy home with me. It’s his.’

You know that even if that were the case it would be impossible to prove without a DNA test but it seems to appease Frankie and he lets you shut your door, watching you like a wounded dog as you pull away.

Its been two months since that night and you’ve barely seen or spoken to Frankie since. You’d tried to keep in contact with the Millers, even having the two of them over a few times. Ben had offered to drive you to your 20-week scan and had been so excited to see the baby on the screen. It felt good to have someone there with you who was excited for you. After the two of you cooed over the ultrasound pictures over lunch, you decided to learn the sex and had been overjoyed to learn that you were having a girl, Ben joking that he would keep the guys away from her when she was older.

‘So the dad really doesn’t want anything to do with it huh?’ He asks as he takes a sip of his coffee whilst you pick at your muffin.

‘Nope.’ You reply, popping the p ‘She came out of a one night stand so you can’t really blame him.’

‘You’re gonna smash it though babe.’ He says sweetly, placing his hand over yours.

‘Thanks.’ You reply, grinning at him ‘I’m really excited now. Although my hormones are all over the place at the moment.’

‘How so?’ He asks as he tilts his head to one side.

‘I am like raging horny all the time.’ You laugh, letting out a groan ‘I just need to be fucked.’

‘You always got me.’ He says as he winks at you.

‘As hot as you are... I don’t wanna make things weird between us.’ You reply.

‘That’s fair babe.’ He replies as he grins at you ‘Come on let's get you home.’

The drive back is a little awkward after his offer to scratch your itch but as soon as he walks you to the door and hugs you goodbye it’s forgotten. You smile as you stick the ultrasound pictures to your fridge, running your fingers over the images as you allow yourself to imagine what she’s going to look like. You wonder if she’ll have your eyes or his. You hope she gets his curly hair. Your stomach twists when you think about him. What if she is the spitting image of him? You decided to busy yourself so that you could forget about him. Evening comes around and you’ve settled down to watch your favourite show when the doorbell rings. You’re surprised when you open the door and see Frankie stood there, eyes red and chest heaving.

‘Frankie, what are you doing here?’ You ask, feeling your heart breaking for him a little ‘What’s happened?’

‘Emily broke up with me.’ He states ‘I told her that I’d cheated on her. We had this stupid fight and it just sorta came out.’

‘That doesn’t explain why you’re here Frankie.’ You reply ‘We’ve not been close lately.’

‘Please...’ He begs and you know what's coming ‘I need you.’

He lunges at you, his lips smashing against yours. Initially, you try to fight it but stop when his tongue pushes itself into your mouth to dance with yours. He walks you back into your house, kicking the door shut with his foot as his hands start to roam. You curse your hormones as you feel yourself growing more and more aroused by the second, letting out a gasp when his hand slips past the waistband of your leggings to cup your sex.

‘Fuck.’ You breathe as he pushes two fingers inside of you, pumping with reckless abandon and making you cum embarrassingly fast.

He’s then lifting you into his arms and carrying you up the stairs, your lips never leaving each other's as he nudges the door to your bedroom open with his foot and lays you down on your bed. Pulling down your leggings in one swift movement, he tears your shirt off over your head as his eyes grazing over your swollen breasts and stomach before removing his own clothes.

‘Fuck you look gorgeous.’ He breathes as he settles between your legs and takes one of your sensitive nipples in his mouth as he massages the other breast with his hand.

Does Frankie have a pregnancy kink?

Your thought is interrupted by him sliding himself inside you, filling you completely and you moan embarrassingly loud. That only spurs him on and he starts to rock his hips, his pace and angle sending you hurtling towards orgasm number two. You’d known that being pregnant made you more sensitive but this was out of this world. Before you knew it you were peaking again, back arching as he continued his relentless pace. He got another three out of you before he finally found his own, collapsing on the bed beside you bonelessly as he tries to catch his breath. You both lay there in silence for a short while, the sex haze beginning to clear.

‘What happened to us?’ He asks, the question taking you by surprise ‘You’ve been my best friend since 2nd grade but now we barely see or speak to each other.’

‘You know why Frankie.’ You reply, your tone a little irritated.

‘No... no I don’t. Explain it to me.’

‘Does this ever mean anything to you?’ You question as you between the two of you, noting the confusion that fills his face ‘Or am I just a release to you?’

‘What do you mean?’

‘We’ve been fucking each other for years, Frankie. Despite trying to date people we always seem to end up in each other’s beds.’ You state, pushing yourself into a sitting position so you can look at him ‘Does it mean anything more to you or am I just a cheap fuck?’

‘I-.’ He's stumped by your question, staring at you as he thinks of what to say.

‘It’s not a hard question to answer Frankie.’ You spit, growing impatient ‘Do you have any feelings for me at all? Yes or No?’

‘It’s complicated.’ This reply makes your blood boil.

‘Complicated how?’ You growl ‘It hurts me every time we do this because I have feelings for you. I can’t keep letting you fuck your problems away with me. I’m going to be a mum Frankie. You can’t just keep turning up here and burying your dick inside me to make yourself feel better. It’s not fair on me.’

‘You have feelings for me?’ You let out an exasperated huff at his response.

‘Yes, Francisco I do.’ You grumble, running a shaky hand through your hair ‘But if you don’t want to commit to me then this needs to stop. I have others to think about now.’ You finish as you rest your hand on your swollen belly.

‘Okay.’ He replies, pushing himself out of the bed ‘This will stop the. I promise.’

This was not the response you’d hoped for but it was an option you’d given him. You nod and watch as he puts his clothes back on. Placing a kiss on your forehead, he leaves and you just lay there and wallow in your grief that Frankie will never be yours.

You're eight months along now and miserable. You're not able to drive anymore because your ankles are too swollen and have to rely on the boys to ferry you around. Things with Frankie have been better since that night and in a way, you feel you had closure and you’d gotten your friend back in some capacity. He’d offered to drive you to get some last-minute baby things before she arrived and you leapt at the chance, you were embarrassingly underprepared. The conversation had been easy, talking about Benny’s latest squeeze and how well things were going for Will and his girlfriend.

‘Reckon shes the one.’ He’d said when the two of you had come to a stop at the lights ‘They’ll be engaged by Christmas’ He finishes as the lights turn green and he starts to pull off.

The car comes from nowhere. The sound of metal crushing metal rings in your ears the car is pushed sideways along the road and with one final bang, everything goes black. You can hear someone called your name but they sound far away. You try to open your eyes but find they’re too heavy. Your ears right as awareness suddenly returns to you and then it all comes crashing back. Your eyes shoot open and you look to your right, eyes locking with Frankies. You study him and find that almost all of him is covered in blood but he’s awake and he’s talking to you so you take that as a positive. Pain erupts through your belly and you scream. The sound making Frankie’s blood go cold and his eyes drop down to see you cradling your bump.

‘Frankie the baby.’ You sob as the pain increases ‘My baby.’ You cry as fat tears roll down your cheeks.

He looks to see if you have any injuries and he’s relieved to find none, just a small cut on your face. He tries to keep you calm. To tell you everything’s going to be okay but he can’t. He’s losing his battle to stay conscious and he knows he’s going into shock. Relief washes over him as he hears the sirens, helps is coming. He allows himself to relax before unconsciousness takes hold and everything goes dark. All you can do is watch as he slips away, cradling your belly and praying you didn’t lose them both today. Everything is a blur then. The pain consumes you and after what feels like an eternity you're finally given relief as you slip into a painless slumber.

Benny's there when you wake up, holding your hand as you feel your awareness return to you slowly. You don’t recognise your surroundings but it's clear you’re in a hospital, you just can’t remember why.

‘How you feeling babe?’ He asks, watching as you try to blink away the brain fog.

‘What happened?’ You ask as you look at him for answers.

‘You were in an accident.’ He answers, giving your hand a gentle squeeze ‘Frankie’s car got t-boned at a set of lights. A guy jumped a red’

It all comes crashing back. The pain. Frankie covered in blood. You look down and see that your belly isn’t quite as swollen as it was and your heart-rate spikes as you start to panic.

‘Benny the baby! Where’s my baby?’

‘She’s okay.’ He replies ‘They had to perform an emergency C-Section as she was in distress but she’s okay.’ You feel yourself relax a little at that but then you remembered what he’d looked like ‘What about Frankie?’

‘He’s uh... He's in a bad way.’ He replies, his expression sad ‘He was in surgery for hours and they've had to put him in an induced coma... He’s critical.’

You can’t stop yourself from emptying the contents of your stomach over the side of the bed. Ben is at your side in a heartbeat, pressing the buzzer with one hand whilst rubbing your back with the other. A nurse quickly helps you lay down again when you're finished whilst another goes about cleaning the mess you’ve made on the floor.

‘When can I see my baby?’ You ask the nurse as she finishes up her checks on you.

‘I can get someone to take you to her.’ She replies, smiling sweetly at you.

‘And when can we see our friend?’ Benny asks ‘The one that was in the accident with her.’

‘I don’t know but I will find out for you.’ She replies, giving you both a grim nod before leaving.

A different nurse returns a few minutes later and helps you into a wheelchair before she starts to push you through the ward, Benny close behind you. You are wheeled into a room labelled NICU and are greeted by incubators dotted around the room. The incubator you stop beside is labelled with 'baby girl' and your last name, the infant inside covered with a small pink blanket. She has a tube in her nose that the nurse informs you is just for feeding and that she is really healthy for being a month early. Then you allow yourself to truly study her. Her head is covered in a thin layer of dark brown hair and her skin already has a tanned quality to it. When you look at her you see him and you can’t help the choked sob that escapes your lips.

‘What’s up?’ Asks Benny.

‘She looks like him.’ You say, not really thinking about the words that fall from your mouth.

'Who?' He crouches beside you and sees the vacant expression on your face as tears slips from the corners of your eyes 'Who does she look like?'

‘Frankie.’ You reply numbly as you stare at her.

‘How can she look like Frankie?’ He asks as his eyes flit between you and the baby.

‘Because he’s the father.’

Chapter 3

#frankie morales #Frankie Morales Fanfiction #Francisco Morales Fanfiction #francisco 'catfish' morales #Frankie Morales x you #Frankie Morales x reader #triple frontier #triple frontier fanfiction #Pedro Pascal fanfiction #Pedro Pascal characters #pedro Pascal character fanfiction #Pedro pascal

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theficplug · 4 years

Text

|Next Lifetime|Erik Killmonger|

previous chapters : Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

erik killmonger x black reader

|part 4|

warnings: um definitely smut this chapter at the end. so 18+ for this chapter! and a possible trigger warning for grief but i promise it gets better and its a romcom.

synopsis: reader grieves Erik until she doesn’t (i’m trying not give too much away). This one is a long ass chapter. So, grab you a snack and something to drink! I hope y’all like it.

“You promised on our birthday that you would give me something far more special than the charms you would gift to me. In 2018, you wanted to avenge your birth parents and you went off and did something foolish and when you- when they returned you to me you were-.” you struggle for a bit to find the words to explain it all to him as he takes a step back to gather himself.

He rubs his eyes before grabbing your arms gently and massaging them . He leans down to look you in your eyes before asking “Ma, did you take something before I came to pick you up? You alright? Cause what you saying don’t make no sense at all... Your pupils don't look dilated though.”

“I know how this must sound. Batshit crazy. I know it sounds crazy to me too. I’m still trying to figure out if I’m losing my own damn mind. I don’t know how or why. I just know that you came back to me.” you say to him and he shakes his head.

“Erik. You’re talking about your ex boyfriend...The one that passed... . Alright, I’m going to take you home now... I still don’t understand what’s going on here and I’ve had about all I can take of trying to understand what’s going on here.” N’Jadaka says quietly to you before going around and opening your car door.

The drive was silent as you picked at your nails and let the soft r&b roll over the tension between the two of you.

Your own thoughts were going in about a billion different directions again. It didn’t feel right to just sit on all of that and not say anything at all. As ripped from a science fiction film as it sounded at least he knows.

He was never one to think quietly because you could practically read his thoughts with the changing of expressions across his face.

The relief of seeing your building washed over you as he offered to walk you to your door.

It was bittersweet because there was still so much of him in this different version of him. Even when he was upset with you or livid with whatever ghost that was haunting him back then, he still showed nothing but tenderness to you.

You nod and give him a small smile before following him up the stairs , to your elevator, and finally your door.

“I know that this is a lot. I mean who in their right mind would be able to process all of that.I wish there was any other way to say it... But thank you, I had a really nice time.” your soft words snap him out of staring at your face as if he was trying to piece it all together.

He knew deep down that there was something about you and what happened that weekend while dreaming in colours and other worlds but he couldn’t wrap his head around all of this happening in real life.

You lean up to kiss his cheek and he grabs your shoulders softly. “With all due respect. You seem like a lovely person and a good woman, but I just - this all a lil too weird for me and I don’t think it’s a good idea that we continue seeing each other.”

He kisses your hand and leaves with one look over your shoulder as you call out “Meet me at our spot. If you are still anywhere in there. You’ll know what I mean.”

“What the hell happened ? I didn’t expect you back until tomorrow morning?” Iri says as she settles on the other side of the sofa and patted the spot next to her as you kick off the sandals and lay your head on her lap with tears already prickling your eyes.

“Oh you didn’t? Please don’t tell me you told him about the soulmate reincarnation thing? Sweets, you probably scared the hell out of that man. We needed you to keep that waaay down in the vault.” Tiki adds as she pops the cork off the bottle of wine in her hand and pauses the movie playing on the screen in the background.

“Here’s what we’re gonna do . You’re gonna text him and tell him that you had just gotten your wisdom teeth removed earlier today and the meds had you unexpectedly zooted as fuck. “ Iri suggests and you chuckle softly.

---

Meanwhile at N’Jadaka’s house he was already being pestered by Lina and Penn for some type of details about what happened during the date. Orleans was already in the kitchen cooking and ear hustling but went back to his conversation on the phone with Big Mike when he realized there wasn’t any tea.

“I don’t feel good. I’m finna go lay down. I’ll talk to y’all in the morning”. He says simply to them before trudging his way to his part of the house.

They had been friends since college and just got used to the idea of living together as they did in the dorms so they made it work after graduation.

It helped them save money for when they finally separated and all of their schedules kept them busy so they didn't have time to get sick of each other. They also knew him well enough to know when something was bothering him and to leave him alone when he gets this moody.

"What the fuck?" He whispered under his breath

"What the fuck was all that?" He continues talking to himself as he strips and walks past the bathroom mirror to the shower.

He stops when something catches his eye. He sees a birthmark on his chest that almost resembles the shape of claw marks. He lets his fingers linger over the mark for a second. Thoughts of a panther mask clouded his memories for a moment before he shook his head and entered the shower.

---

A few hours later of talking through it with your girls about possibly seeing a therapist about all that's going on and you were ready for bed.

It didn't take long to drift off, you were ready to put the whole thing behind you.

The familiar setting of purples , pinks, and hues of blue came into focus and you looked around letting the butterflies land on you again.

You walk through the flowers and find Erik sitting by a stream of water weaving some of the flowers together.

"What the hell, E?" You ask as you run over to him and wrap your arms around his neck

He turns to you and smiles big , his dimples on full display before shrugging.

"It ain't perfect but it's the best I could do. They said it's like a do-over or something like that. I get a second chance but as a result of the way I did things the first time it's a lil different. Like when you restore a computer and it lose all it's files and shit. I get a new life but I'm still kinda stuck. I kinda like it though. I don't remember all the other shit when I'm awake. It really is like starting over. Shits crazy to explain when you think about it. But for you , you already know. I'd find you in this life and the next and the one after that. I don’t think I’mma ever fully remember what happened with all of that when i’m awake. I’m cool with it. It ain’t something I’m tryna remember." He says tipping your chin up to look at you and kissing you softly

"I know. At least I get to hold you in the real world. It's just different. But guess what I saw today? I seen that bench that you and me signed all them years back. It's still there." You say to him and he places the lil flower bracelet around your wrist as y'all sit and talk for the rest of the night.

By the time you wake up with the aroma of breakfast wavering throughout the loft you feel a little better about the whole situation with Erik, not Erik.

You opened your phone and sent him an I'm sorry gif with a few extra words inspired by Tina's wisdom tooth lie.

After easing into the kitchen and standing in the doorway you see the two lovebirds dancing around the kitchen singing to each other and laying food on the plates.

"Morning lil sleepy head. Don't forget that I'll still be coming down to the center with you today for the seminar. You hungry?" Iris asks as she places the plate in your hands with a kiss to the top of the head.

"Of course. There's a young girl, Sophie there that I really think would love to talk to you. She's just starting her transition. And her parents are wonderful but they don't really have much money. She hasn't really had the chance to get more “feminine” presenting clothes and she likes makeup. " You say and she nods catching your drift.

"Well it'd brighten anybody's day seeing a beautiful successful trans woman like myself honey. But let's lift her spirits even more. I'm gonna bring some of the makeup I got from pr packages and some of the clothes from this collection. I really hope it helps." She answers and Tika just saunters over to her proclaiming her love for her.

"Alright alright alright. I get it. I'm single as hell." You say laughing softly

---

Two weeks ticked by with radio silence on N'Jadaka's end. After the 4th day when he gave you the cold shoulder at a coffee shop, you decided to stop trying.

Maybe it wasn't fate and maybe you were just believing what you wanted to believe.

You reason with yourself as you walked around the loft making notes about the new housing project you were working on.

Finally having the house to yourself with the lovebirds gone for the day on a little adventure. You got to work budgeting and calling different areas to rent out apartments to you for women and lgbtq+ with housing insecurities.

Your ramblings and thoughts were interrupted by a knock at the door , thinking that Iri or Tika left something behind.

"I told you to take your sunscre- Daka?" You question as he stands in front of you

You cross your arms and furrow your brows while waiting for an answer from him.

He stands for a moment like he’s trying to gather all of his thoughts together in a way that makes sense to both of you.

"What're you doing here?" You ask putting your hand on your hip.

He drops his shoulders and lets out a soft sigh before looking at you.

"I didn't wanna believe it. What you said that night cause like how the fuck does something like that happen? I’mma be honest. I wanted to just believe that you were a lil off and leave it at that but something keeps telling me that you right. I can't remember shit before college and all I wanted to do was be with you. From the moment I met you in the store. I was like, this is it. This is what's missing. A piece to a puzzle that's all jumbled up." He admits and you nod slowly before letting him in.

You walk around the kitchen getting a cup of tea for yourself and sitting a cup of coffee down on the counter for him.

“Don’t worry it’s black, I know you dont like it sweet.”

"You know I didn't exactly expect my fiancee that I buried months before to show up at a damn supermarket of all places. This isn't some movie or fanfiction. These kind of things don't happen in real life. Daka you, you had claw marks all over you. The last time I laid eyes on you. And now you're here in front of me. I thought that I was losing my mind." You say and he starts to unbutton his shirt.

"These." He says peeling his shirt off and showing you the birthmarks on his chest and shoulder.

You trace your fingers over it before leaning your head on his shoulder.

"I asked my parents about my childhood and when I passed by my old neighborhood a few days ago andI remembered some things. I remember what happened to my other parents, in pieces. Shit’s brutal." He says dropping his gaze

"It's okay." You whisper to him and wrap your arms around him. You rocked him for a moment letting him let all of those feelings wash over him.

He embraced you for a moment before kissing you tenderly. You tug at his bottom lip before deepening the kiss when he press you against the counter.

"We'll figure it out... Something telling me I'd be a fuckin fool to lose you again." He says quietly against yours lips.

"Are you gonna make love to me or are you going to keep looking at me like that?" You ask as he studies your whole face like he's looking at art.

"A memory. It's you. We stood right here and I kissed you the same way. You were saying something like "you bring yourself home to me"." He says and you nod frantically, holding him closer to you.

"I did. It was right before you left." You admit and he nods before lifting you up onto the counter and kissing you heatedly this time. He kisses down to your breasts before looking up at permission from you to unhook your bra.

Always a man that knows what he's doing. He takes kisses around your breasts and nipples. He takes his time to lick and caress you until he works his way down.

You shake your head yes before moving to slide off your panties but his kisses and his mouth is already beating you to it as he kisses down to your thigh.

He slides your panties off with his teeth and tosses them over his shoulder.

You tilt your head back as you feel him wasting no time massaging over your clit and working you over with his fingers, curling them and stroking you gently.

Your soft moans fill the room when he hooks your leg over his shoulder and begins to suckle your clit softly , swirling his tongue over it.

"Tika will kil- Ooh god. How does your tongue feel like it's vibrating?" You ask and he only chuckles and grips onto your cheeks to bring you closer to him.

He was feasting on and devouring you like he was going to lose again and you could grind your hips down against his tongue and moan his name sweetly.

He didn't stop his tongue or fingers working in you until your legs are shaking and you're gripping at his head.

"You have- fuck. I'm a squir-" you moan his name brokenly while trying to get out your words and lean back for a moment licking his lips before realizing what you're trying to say.

"Hold that for me. I wanna come with you." He says to you and you pout and protest as he removes his fingers. He picks you up off the counter and carries you bridal style asking you which room is yours.

"Left , left." You giggle into his shoulder as he helps you slide your dress off and you unbutton his jeans for him.

You capture him in a kiss for a moment feeling his soft plump lips against yours again for the first time in what feels like forever.

"It's been a long time since I've done all of this. . . Gentle." You say and he runs a calloused finger over your cheek moving a curl away from your face as he looks at you.

He gets a quick flash of a memory of you and him in bed. You wore a smile on your face before telling him "happy anniversary".

He trailed his fingers down your body remembering almost every scar , every moment.

When Erik got to a scar at your side. He chuckled, unlocking a memory of you two running from the neighborhood rottweiler , Smokey.

That old ass dog hated you and he hoisted you over the fence first after being out late one night in high school. The gate had caught your side when you jumped.

Erik felt so bad he brought you food from anywhere you wanted everyday from to school for a month.

He leans down to place open mouthed kisses to it.

He traced over your thighs to the cellulite and stretch marks remembering when you first got them.

He was moving homes at the time and he wasn't ready to be further away from you yet. You two just sat for hours at the park in the grass, talking.

" You know white men behind all of that anyways. They want y'all to feel like you gotta look the same way. That's how they make them billions. My mama had 'em . Yo mama , and generations back. And it ain't ever stop them from being the women they are. Besides if any dirtneck nigga ever try you , just tell me. Imma handle it." He would say as you sat with your head on his lap, staring at the sun setting, knowing good and well your grandparents were gonna ground you for being late when you get home.

They never did though cause you were with Erik they knew you were gonna be alright.

"Nothing to worry about. I… I've never done any of that stuff before…Have you?" you question hesitantly as you stare off.

"Tisha. From Ms. Wilkes class. We was coming from the kick back-"

"Uh uh . That's your business , you ain't gotta tell me all of that." You say slightly upset at the fact that Tisha of all people was his first.

----

"I got you." He says kissing your forehead then your nose before hooking your leg over his hip and easing into you slowly while his lips are still on yours. His eyes never left yours as he cupped your face sweetly like he didn't want to lose you again.

In this moment he gets a glimpse of prom night and how things changed between the both of you forever.

He wraps his hands around your waist. One of his hands splayed across your belly.

He remembers the pregnancy scare you both had afterwards with him holding your hand and telling you no matter what happens he wanna be there for both of you.

Luckily, nothing came of it but you were definitely closer because of it.

You let out an open mouthed gasp at the feeling of being so full of him after so long.

You rest your hands on his neck and shoulder and he bottoms out fully settling into you as he moves his arms next to balance himself.

You close your eyes as he begins to stroke into you trying to set a rhythm for you as his praises for you fall from his lips.

He kisses his way down your neck licking the marks that are already starting to form there.

"My lil baby." He mutters out after licking a freshly formed hickey forming on top of your breasts.

You open your eyes slowly , looking at him and the way he's looking at you .

"It's been way too long since I've heard that from you. You're remembering?" You ask quietly as you let out a soft moan.

N'Jadaka's muscles flex and tighten as he picks up his pace. His abs clenched as he pulls out almost completely and filled you at a different angle.

The sounds of your moans filling the room with every stride and stroke of his hips, it seems like you're closer to floating in space. The man was fucking you like his life depended on it and at this point all you could do is wrap your arms around him again to comfort you as he shutters and rolls his hips deeper into you. Your walls tighten around him as you relish in the feeling of him.

"Fuck. I remember all of it." He says half chuckling at the way it's coming to him and half nearly in tears cause he really missed being with you.

"I also remember that this is your favourite position cause you like to see my face." He teases before leaning down to kiss you again with them plump ass lips.

"E?" You ask , grabbing his face with trembling hands.

"Baby?" You ask again

He moves his hands from your waist and places your hands in his. Then moving them above your head as he flashes in between making love to you for the last time and now.

You roll over with him and place your hands on your chest riding him slowly getting the rhythm as he strokes into you from below.

He laughs softly when he realizes what you're doing.

"Are you spelling my fucking name , baby?" He asks and you tell him that you can spell both.

You let out a whimper when he brushes your spot and let him take over as he runs his hands over your thighs to your butt and over your back as he strokes into you.

He plants his feet on the bed and work your hips in rhythm with him.

It didn't take long for you to orgasm with a loud shriek of his name . You had forgotten how he gets when he's close as his hands on gripping all over your thighs and your back. You were already feeling sensitive with your second orgasm coming through and this man felt like he was trying to put it in your belly.

He rolls you onto your side giving it to you deeply.

With a loud hiss and panting from him he cums , holding you in his arms.

"I don't think it has felt like that since our birthday last year." He says into your ear as he pulls you closer into his arms.

He engulfs you fully in his embrace and presses a kiss to the side of your head.

You laugh softly and roll over to face him , resting your forehead against his.

"I remember. You took me to Paris. I had never been and at the time I was obsessed with everything Parisian. We fucked on the balcony and somehow I ended up popping the straps to my favorite dress. You still owe me by the way." You tease and he shakes his head laughing.

"I think we ended up saving they marriage from across the way though. They was arguing the whole time. Then they gon watch us like we ain't see them." Erik says laughing as he squeezes your thigh playfully.

"I know they was trying some things." You joke

"I missed you so much. You don't even understand." You admit with a somehow saddened and relieved expression.

"I know. I want to start over this time. All of that Erik Killmonger shit is over with. I wanna keep the name N'Jadaka and just start over. All of that was too heavy on me to carry. I wanna let it all go. I wanna do it right with you." He explains

"Good because if you put me through that again. Wakanda will be the least of your damn worries." You say to him and he nods giving you his word, sealed with a kiss.

"It'll be alright. Everything happens for a reason. And I think that right now a bath needs to happen and I'm gonna need you to do that thing again that you did in the kitchen cause I'm tryna figure out when you learned that-"

At some point after the bubble bath/ shower combo you were both out like a light until Iri and Tika decide to come busting in like they usually do with little gifts and food for you.

"Guess who's your fave- SHE GOT A WHOLEASS MAN IN HER BED" Iri announces to Tika before your pillow hits the door as she closes it.

"Sorry about that. This is kinda our cuddle hour so they're used to just coming on in." You say sleepily and he just laughs it off while holding you closer.

"It's all good. I remember that I ain't know them much before but when we did spend time with them, they were good people." He says, still trying to piece it together.

----

You fell asleep more peacefully than you had in a long time. Now granted, good sex didn't fix the many layers of issues and mysticism surrounding everything.

But for now, you knew that you had him, you had your girls, family and your business. Everything felt alright again.

Right up until the point of sleeping through the first alarm to meet the property owners.

"Bae. Bae your phone going off." N'Jadaka whispers in the dark room , voice still riddled with sleep and grogginess.

"Shit. Shit. I'm gonna be so late." You call out , quickly jumping out of bed and stumbling around the room.

It takes you about 25 minutes to speed through getting dressed in your best skirt suit.

N'Jadaka sits on the end of the bed putting on his shoes and watching you shuffle around.

He had offered to drive you there and stay with you and check out the property with you.

He slows you down by grabbing you by your arms gently and placing a kiss to your lips.

"Good morning, handsome. Let's go"

You walk through the living room with Iri and Tika already posted up in the kitchen placing two breakfast burritos in a container to grab and go.

You grab your things from the counter all while thanking them and jetting towards the door.

"Good luck pooh!" Tika calls after you.

"Byyyyeeee Dakaaaa" they call out after him

---

"Here it is . These are the apartments. I know they don't look like much now from the outside. But from the pictures it looks great. And they'll be safe and comfortable here-" you babble on to N'Jadaka while you both stand outside of the building where Erik grew up , until you notice two women walking to a car that clearly wasn't from this area.

You notice Shuri and your breath hitches in your throat.

Frozen in your anxiety, the seconds ticked by and it was too late to leave. She looked you dead in the eye and then at N'Jadaka like she had seen a ghost.

She gasped and Nakia followed the eyes before back into the car.

"SHURI WAIT - PLEASE" you yell out to them but the car was already speeding away.

tag list : @doublesidedscoobysnacks @chaneajoyyy @mirandkimy @doitforthevine67 @amyhennessyhouse @dasia21 @depressionandfandomsinc @sinfully-dope @ambitionwood @heybriheyyy @wholelotta-melanin @theesotericqueen @mbakuwife @spookys-girl @teardropzih @bigchoose @ceo-of-baby @sweetpeachjones @lost-ssoull @shyblackgurl @justpeachee @nijajoha @imayhavemisunderstood @beautifullmelodyxx @alookintohersoul @rbhp @champagnesugamama @just-peachee @almeda-344 @mahogany2021

#black panther #erik killmonger #black panther smut #erik killmonger smut #Erik killmonger x Reader #fanfic for black girls

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nightshade-minho · 4 years

Text

-Nightmare- (6)

Warnings: You’ll lowkey want to slap both Minho and Y/n for being oblivious idiots

Over the next few days, things went by as normal as they could. Out in public, the two of you held hands, kissed cheeks and foreheads and went on fake dates. By the time Saturday rolled around, almost everyone on campus was aware of your relationship.

It was a dreary morning. You sat in your room, watching a movie on your laptop as you munched on some strawberries. You could very well watch said movie in the living room- but you didn’t want to run into Minho. When in private, the two of you now barely said a word to each other.

Meanwhile, Minho didn’t know what to do. He wanted to apologize to you, but he never got the chance to. As soon as the two of you reached home, you would immediately walk into your room and slam the door shut.

He knew he had been an asshole, but he’d also gotten used to you forgiving him easily. He knew he deserved every bit of anger that you were directing towards him.

He was sitting on the sofa, scrolling mindlessly through his phone when he received a call. He checked the caller ID and realized it was Mera. Frowning, he answered it and pressed it to his ear.

“What the fuck do you want?” He sighed.

“Are you actually dating that skank? For real?”

He felt anger boil in him. “Don’t fucking call her that. She’s my best- I mean, girlfriend. If you’re just jealous and sore that you can’t have my dick anymore, there are plenty of other guys here that would be willing to fuck you. So leave me alone.”

She tsked. “Always so hot-headed. This isn’t a booty call, I’m just calling you so that I can warn you.”

“Warn...me...?”

“Yes. You haven’t always been very nice to me, but god you were good at fucking.”

He sighed, frustrated.

“Rina’s still pretty mad at you. She’s also desperately trying to prove that Y/n’s not your girlfriend. You two seem pretty genuine to me, but she’s convinced that you’re faking it...which is why she invited you and Y/n to her party.”

Fuck. He’d completely forgotten about the stupid party she’d invited them to.

“How exactly..?”

“I don’t know. Just be careful. Bye.”

She cut the call, and Minho grunted in annoyance as he walked over to your room, knocking.

You looked up from your laptop, frowning. You elected to ignore it, but then the knocks grew so loud that you pushed the bowl of strawberries aside, opening your door with an exasperated expression on your face.

He sighed. ‘Look, I know we’re not exactly on good terms right now. But, we have a crisis. I think Rina’s onto us.”

You exasperation melted away, replaced by confusion. “What? How?”

He explained what Mera had told him, watching as your expressions contorted.

“Can’t we just...not attend the party?”

“Are you mad? I go to every party. She would immediately realize that something’s up. We have to attend. We just have to be extra alert, okay?”

You sighed, rubbing your forehead, letting out a tired ‘Okay.’

He exhaled, shoving his hands in his pocket. “I’m sorry, Y/n. I really am. I don’t have any excuses. You’ve been doing nothing but help and I’ve just continued being a complete dickhead...”

You shook your head. “It’s fine.” You went to close the door. “Which time should I get ready?”

“About 10? And wait-”

You closed the door in his face. He groaned.

***

You didn’t come out of your room till about 9:45. Minho was still in his sweatpants when you came out, nonchalantly fluffing up your hair.

He groggily looked up, eyes widening when he saw you in your grey graphic halter-top and black ripped jeans. He opened his mouth, but no sound came out, opting to just stare instead.

You turned around, your eyes landing on him, eyebrows knitting in confusion. “Why aren’t you dressed yet?”

Minho cleared his throat as he tore his eyes away from you and stood. “I like being fashionably late. Also, where’d you get your outfit from? I’ve never seen you wear anything like that before.”

You shrugged. “Back of my closet. You were the one who told me that I had to match your aesthetic more, right?.

He nodded. “Well, you look hot.”

“Thanks.” You grinned.

He gave you an awkward smile before going to his room, finding a random grey turtleneck and leather jacket to throw on. He came back out, watching as you sat on the sofa, tapping your foot as you waited. There it was again...that feeling.

He grabbed his car keys, walking to the door. You looked up when you heard his footsteps, heart thumping at how good he looked. But then again, it wasn’t really anything new.

***

When you reached Rina’s sorority house, you grimaced at the loud music blasting through the speakers. There were people making out even on the lawn, and the place was fully packed. You fought the urge to cover your ears and curl up into a ball on the floor. Glancing at Minho, you rolled your eyes at how he looked completely at ease. This was his habitat, after all.

You stayed by Minho’s side, silent as he was continually greeted by a lot of people you barely knew. You recognized Chan and Jisung, but none of the others. Soon, the two of you were finally able to enter the heart of the party, and you were already exhausted...by the end of the night, you were pretty sure you’d drop dead.

Minho made his way to the kitchen, grabbing your hand so you wouldn’t get lost in the crowd. He filled a red cup with liquid before handing it to you. You shook your head with a look of disgust and he shrugged, chugging it down and quickly replacing his cup with more. You watched uncomfortably as he was greeted by yet another guy, who gave him a high-five before chattering excitedly. Looking away, you tiredly scanned the room, boredom quickly filling your mind.

An hour went by, and you finally gave up. You snatched Minho’s half empty cup and tossed the liquid back, wincing at the taste. He gave you a look of surprise. “About time.” He said, before turning his attention to yet another person who’d come to talk to him. Hyunjin was his name. He looked nice, you noted. You crossed your arms, internally groaning, the music giving you a light headache and the alcohol burning your throat. You couldn’t fathom how this could be enjoyable in any way.

Suddenly, your eyes became aware of the redhead in the very center of the throng of dancing people. She was grinding up against a boy you thought looked familiar. In a second, you realized her eyes were on you. She smirked at you before looking away.

You poked Minho’s arm lightly. “I just saw Rina. I think she’s dancing with Juyeon.”

“Ju-who?”

“The guy at the coffee shop? He was the waiter?”

“Oh, him.” Minho scowled. His eyes searched the crowd before he found the two. He shrugged, finishing his cup before glancing at you with a glint in his eye. “Hey, wanna dance?”

You shook your head firmly. “Don’t push it. I’m still mad at you. The only reason I’m here is because of this stupid lie we’re telling everyone.” You looked back at the crowd, wrinkling your nose at the way everyone danced as if they were in a strip club. So many skimpily clad girls...you almost felt bad for Minho, having to stand by his introverted ‘girlfriend’ instead of join in on the action. You could almost sense his longing, coming off of him in waves.

You shook your head, reminding yourself that it was you helping him, and not the other way around.

***

Minho hated that for some reason, parties didn’t give him the same buzz that he used to feel. When did his definition of fun change? The amount of people coming up to him and greeting him was no longer contributing to his liveliness...instead, it tired him. He glanced at you from time to time, noting your crossed arms and curled lip, regarding the party in complete contempt. For some reason, there was a part of him that could relate.

A few hours went by, and Minho couldn’t take it anymore. He was about to grab your hand and leave, especially because the party was thinning out. A majority of the people had already left with their respective hook-ups, or were passed out on the floor.

“Hey, guys!” He groaned at the familiar voice.

You turned around, smiling at Rina.

“Where do you think you’re going? Minho, you never leave a party this early...your ‘girlfriend’ is really changing you.” She hummed. “I’d like to invite you to a little after-party with my close friends.” She gestured behind her. There were about nine people in all, excluding you and Minho. You recognized Juyeon and Mera, and the two girls from the coffee shop, but that was about it. You looked over at Minho, before sighing and nodding.

***

Half an hour later, you were sat on the floor next to your best friend.

Truth or Dare.

You were gagging internally at it. You weren’t high-schoolers anymore...surely college demanded more maturity than this? You really didn’t want to participate in this stupid game.

Judging by the infuriating smirk on Rina’s face, you had a feeling that Mera had been right. You could feel a sense of dread surround you, and when you looked over at Minho, it was evident on his face as well.

Rina placed the bottle in the middle of the circle, spinning it eagerly. It spun around and around, coming to rest on Mera. Rina chuckled excitedly, pulling up her phone. “Truth or dare, Mer?”

She paused, feigning concentration. “Dare,” She said with a smirk.

Rina squinted at her phone. “Ah! It’s a good one. Take a fruit and eat it in the most sensual way possible.”

Mera rolled her eyes with a smile. “That’s tame as fuck.” She got up and disappeared for a while, returning with a banana.

She plopped on the floor, peeling it and getting to work. Disturbingly, she kept looking over at Minho as she did so, lewdly sucking on the phallic object while keeping eye contact with your boyfriend. (Well, fake boyfriend, but still!)

You pursed your lips, looking away...only to see Rina’s eyes on you, carefully gauging your reaction.

“Alright, that’s enough. Let’s move on to the next one.”

As the bottle was spun again, your mind drifted away. You weren’t thinking about anything in particular, but your brain was yearning for your soft bed and your plushie.

“Minho! Truth or dare?” You snapped back into the present, eyes wide.

Minho thought for a while. “Truth.” He said simply.

Rina tapped her chin with her finger as she read off her phone. “Ooh~ What’s the most unusual place you’ve ever had sex?”

He chuckled wryly. “There’s way too many answers for that, unfortunately...too many for me to count.”

She cocked her head to the side. “Fine. Let’s narrow the possibilities down a little bit. What’s the most unusual place you’ve had sex...with Y/n.”

A sudden coldness settled itself in you as Minho sputtered in response. “Uh...sex? Um...”

The silence that followed was too heavy for comfort. Slowly, one of the girls you didn’t know the name of spoke up. “You two...haven’t had sex yet....?”

Minho cleared hIs throat. “Uh...not yet. We’ve only been dating for like, a week...”

A dude in the corner of the room sniggered. “Come on bro, you can’t expect us to believe that you, Lee Minho, haven’t dicked down your girlfriend yet.”

Minho met your gaze uncomfortably.

“Wait...have they even kissed?”

Rina giggled. “Oh, they have! I saw it. It’s just weird because...”

She made eye contact with you. “I distinctly remember Minho pushing her away when she did it.”

You buried your head in your hands. Everything was swimming slightly, and you felt a little sick, perhaps from the alcohol you’d ingested earlier.

“Anyhoo, let’s move on shall we? Their relationship problems are none of our business.” Rina went to spin the bottle once more. “That is, if they even are in a relationship.” She added under her breath.

The rest of the room whispered to each other as you avoided Minho’s eyes, choosing to stare at the spinning bottle.

“Juyeon...okay Truth or Dare?”

“Dare.”

Rina tapped away on her phone before guffawing, a wide grin spreading across her features. “The dare is...you have to kiss the person right across you.”

It took you a few seconds to register that the person sitting right across him was you. Juyeon smirked and winked at you, before crawling closer, taking your cheek in his big hand and leaning in as you sat there dumbfounded.

What occurred next happened so fast, that you’d miss it if you blinked.

Minho pushed Juyeon away, grabbing you and pulling you to your feet, his lips slamming against yours. You squeaked in surprise, the shock quickly giving way to a neediness that threatened to swallow you whole. You quickly melted into the kiss as he licked your bottom lip, asking for entrance. Opening your mouth, you let his tongue dance with yours as you made out passionately, choosing to ignore the flurry of whispers around you. Minho pulled away, still holding you by the waist. His eyes were burning into yours, an inexplicable emotion shining in them. Your lips felt sore and tingly, and you breathlessly leaned back in, wanting more.

The kiss that followed was softer, yet every bit as sensual as the last one. His soft lips insistently moved against your parted ones, wetly sucking and biting as your limbs felt like jelly. He nudged his nose against yours as you seperated, lips swollen and kiss-bitten.

“I love you.” He whispered.

At that moment, Minho’s heart thudded loudly, feeling trapped in his ribcage as he realized that what he’d just said was true. He’d fully meant it. He loved you. He was in love with his best friend.

But all you could feel was pain. Cause there were those words again, those words you’d convinced yourself was a lie for Rina’s benefit, just as false as your relationship. You realized that you’d been stupid to think that this had ever been a good idea. Now that you finally got a taste of Minho, you don’t think you could ever go back... and it scared you. The kiss had been beautiful. It had felt like your whole life led up to this moment. But it was fake...spurious, like the rest of it.

Minho saw the tears in your eyes. He didn’t know what to make of them...or how to interpret them. It felt like feelings he’d been holding down and trapping for years were finally freed...yet he wasn’t happy. He had no idea how you felt about him. He wouldn’t blame you if you hated him. He deserved it. He hadn’t been a good best friend, so why would you want him to be more?

He grabbed your wrist, tearing his eyes away from yours and looking at the people still sitting on the ground, all wide-eyed and with expressions ranging from shock to confusion. His gaze traveled from Juyeon’s face to Rina’s.

“We’re going to be leaving now. Enjoy the rest of the night.” And with that, he dragged you out the door.

#AAAAAH #minho angst #lee know angst #minho fluff #lee know fluff #skz angst #skz fluff #stray kids angst #stray kids fluff #skz #stray kids #minho smut #lee know smut

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misha-moose-dean-burger-lover · 4 years

Text

It’s the Asexual Pumpkin, Sam Winchester.

Asexuality can be defined as the quality or characteristic of having no sexual feelings or desires.

Fifteen year old Sam Winchester can't stop fussing his lower lip with his teeth, constantly biting the corner, as he reads fervently, and in a hurry.

It may be considered a sexual orientation or lack thereof.

He buries his head in his hands, fingers in his hair, and breathes out. It's not a lack of sexuality - not to him, that is. He feels everything - he's just not sure if he's feeling the right things.

And he can't stop thinking about it.

He's sixteen when a girl first kisses him. She's practically a stranger, given they've only had a few classes and a group project together - which makes it really weird for him when she walks up to him when he's sitting at his lunch table, cups his cheek, and closes the gap between their lips.

"It was a dare," She explains, pulling away. Sam blinks up at her as she hurriedly adds, "I had to kiss my crush."

She's probably making sure Sam doesn't think the dare had been to kiss the weird kid who always sits by the window at lunch with his nose in a book.

"Okay." Sam says, not knowing what to do with this information. "It's okay."

And that's it.

Sometimes when Sam's supposed to be researching monsters his dad's gone off to hunt, he fades out and inadvertently starts to research his own.

He's sure he isn't normal. This constant nagging inside his head which tells him there's something terrifyingly wrong with him because - there just is.

"Oh, Sam!" The boy he's got pinned against the wall groans, instinctively grabbing a fistful of Sam's shirt - Dean's hand-me-down flannel. "Sam, you're - Jesus, that's good."

Sam's got an arm wrapped around his waist, one behind his neck, and their hips thrust erratically, but together, in some sort of rhythm.

He's trying.

He's trying to want this.

Sam kisses him harder, holds him tighter, and pulls him closer.

He's never been more scared than when it's all over, and the guy falls forward heaving, face buried in Sam's chest and strings of praise in his breath - because Sam still feels nothing at all.

And he realizes there’s a possibility that he’ll never feel anything.

Before he leaves for Stanford, Dean takes him out for a drink. John doesn't want them to go - or maybe he just says that, because then Sam insists that they do.

"You're gettin' out, Sammy." Dean says out loud, and there's only sadness in his eyes, for all the bright in his smile. "Jus' like you always wanted."

Sam blinks away his tears, and drinks to it.

His brother drinks heavily that night and they talk for hours, like they've never talked before - pretending that they'll never talk again.

Sam almost says it.

He almost ups and admits to his brother that he's a goddamn freak who doesn't want to have sex. That he knows it isn't normal, and he knows Dean can't understand how or why he feels the way he feels - but he needs to tell it to him, because he needs to tell it to someone - and he really doesn't trust anyone else.

But then he doesn't, because the night's coming to an end, and Dean pulls him into a hug when they get out to the Impala, and Sam doesn't let go for a very long time.

There's more important things, he tells himself, when Dean all but breaks down in the driver's seat, and asks Sam not to leave with just that look in his eyes and no words spoken - and Sam has to wrench his heart away, and close his eyes as he shakes his head.

He has to leave.

And that's enough he's done to Dean already.

All his future packed in a military backpack and a barrel bag, Sam walks into his Stanford dormitory for the first time. Before he even gets to his room, there's a guy with a stack of stickers and a Stanford cap, standing in his way.

"Nametags." He simply says, showing Sam a grey sticker, and proceeding to stick a cardboard under it so he can write. "I fill them for you." He adds.

"Sam Winchester." Sam says, leaning to see what else has to be written. They're asking for his pronouns. "Uh, he/him." He continues, after a pause.

"Are you sure you're sure?" The guy grins.

Sam gives him a look. "Yeah." He clears his throat. "Just taken aback."

"Well, I'll have you know," The guy gives Sam his hand. "I pretty much led the movement on there being pronouns on these, instead of majors."

Sam shakes his hand, feeling a little out of place, but warming up to the guy. His eyes flick down to his nametag and he reads Brady, above 'they/them'.

Oh.

"Okay, then." Brady smiles, putting the sticker on Sam's shirt himself after looking at him explicitly for permission, which Sam grants. "Don't go 'round changing your shirt, Sam."

Sam grins at them before walking off to his dorm.

He's at a bar the next time he meets Brady. It's been a long first week - good, but tiring. He's never been so bound by a schedule before, but then he's also never felt this free.

Brady's wearing a hoodie which could've fit another one of them in it, and they slide up next to Sam on a barstool.

"So?" They ask, as means of a greeting. "How was your first week?"

"Not bad. Can we talk about something else?" Sam says, because he's talked about it with himself so many times already - and he's here because he wants to stop.

"Sure." They shrug. "Would you order a drink for yourself, because I don't know what you like yet, but I'd like to buy you a drink."

Sam turns to them uneasily, but before he can even think about it, he's already blurted it out.

"I'm asexual."

That's the first time he's ever said it out loud, and something so minor provoking such a huge declaration - a milestone, for him - makes him realize just how free he feels.

"Cool." Brady answers, furrowing their eyebrows. "You mind me asking if you're also aromantic?"

Sam pauses.

He's never researched about this - and he's never even thought about it, but from the word, he can gather what it must mean. And from the context, he's even more sure.

"I don't." Sam answers. "And no, I'm not."

"Do you drink?" They lick their lips.

"Yeah." Sam breathes out, and it feels like a burden he'd not known about has finally been lifted off of his chest - and he turns to the menu.

"Awesome."

Eventually, Brady and he end up close.

Sam's not surprised. They've been friends for weeks now, and he's comfortable around them in a way Sam's never been around anyone before.

And they know so much about so many things, that Sam realizes how little he knows of the world outside hunting. They spend most of their evenings holed up together in Sam's room, watching movies, reading aloud to each other, and talking through the night.

Even if they fall asleep on the same bed, it doesn't feel weird, because it's Brady - and Sam trusts them.

Sam loves them too, but apparently not in the same way as Brady loves Josh, because one evening, almost a couple months in, he brings it up, and just as easily as they'd fallen in place together, they fall out of an undefined relationship.

"I don't think I'm over him." They confess. "I want to be, but I don't think I am, and that isn't fair to you."

Sam gets it. He isn't going to push.

"Let's still be friends, though."

"Obviously."

That's when Sam meets Jess.

She's perfect, Sam knows, every fibre of his being knows, and above all, she loves him. On their fourth date, Sam swallows his fears and explains to her that he's asexual.

It's become easier to do it - especially because when he's all out of words, and completely vulnerable, Jess takes his hand and asks, gently, if she could kiss him.

Sam nods, because he wants her to, and not just because no one's ever stopped and asked him that - and then he has her come close, linger for a second, and slowly, sweetly, kiss him.

For the first time, Sam feels something akin to what he knows he's supposed to feel - and he lets her kiss him, closing his eyes, and trying to stop thinking about everything.

He falls for her, irrevocably, very soon - but he still can't stop thinking.

What if he's not asexual?

What if he's been lying to himself all this time?

Jess and he move into an apartment in their second year.

She may not have been able to dispense advice like Brady would've, when Sam had his first panic attack - a hot mess, caused by everything at once; being away from Dean, being all alone, and being a fake - but that's the first time they fall asleep together, and not just on the same bed.

Sam wakes up with Jess's arm curled around him, and feels his heart flush with emotions.

When Jess wakes up too, she finds Sam staring at her with tears in his eyes and apologies on his lips, and he kisses her deeply but also confesses that he still isn't ready for sex, and he doesn't know when he will be, even though he's beginning to research demisexuality, and he tells her as much about Dean as he can, and he tells her how much he loves her but is still so afraid -

And she holds him in return, and reminds him that she loves him too, and that what matters more than all the labels Sam gives himself, is that Sam is happy.

"What would I do without you?" Sam asks, for the first time ever.

"Crash and burn."

Dean comes to get him - Sam drives the Woman in White to peace, they return home well in time for his interview - and then Jess burns to her death in front of his eyes.

Dean drags him out of the house forcefully, though Sam fights to get back to Jess - he fights with all his strength because he knows nothing will ever be the same. He's going to crash and burn without her - so why not do it right away?

Why not just let go?

But Dean's stronger than he is, and he won't let him. He holds onto Sam until the firemen have extinguished the entire fire, and he doesn't let him go out of his sight for days to follow - always unsure of what Sam might do, because he might not know why Jess meant so much to his brother, but he can tell how much she did.

(Sometimes, it's a really good thing he knows Sam so well.

And sometimes, it's the worst.)

Sam's starting to feel lost.

There had been comfort in a label - he could call himself asexual, tell himself he wasn't alone, tell himself he wasn't a freak - he was just different, and that was okay.

But now he feels like it's all a lie.

He's a liar and a coward and a freak - and god-fucking-dammit, he might call himself a fake, but Sam still isn't attracted to anyone, so he's just so fucking lonely all the time.

And he knows he's completely alone.

Sam punishes himself sometimes.

He'll go out with someone, like Dean does - and pretend to himself that he's trying to convince the world that he's normal, that he's okay - but the real reason he does it is because he always comes back guilty.

And he deserves that pain.

He deserves more of it - the depressing detachment which overcomes him in the middle of the night, the sheer repulsion he feels for what he did in the morning, and his perpetually burdened conscience.

When he doesn't feel like himself at all, with a stranger wrapped around him in an unknown bed, there's a cruel voice in his head which tells him this is what he deserves.

He doesn't deserve to be the real him - and Sam isn't even sure he knows who he is.

When Ruby enters his life, everything changes. Sam Winchester falls for a demon - though no one will ever call it love out loud, because that simply wouldn't be true.

But there's absolutely nothing else it can be.

She's demanding and feisty, and has a way with Sam which makes him want to shove her against a wall and fuck her until that smirk goes away. And she shows up everywhere, sometimes naked, wanting Sam to drink her blood or pin her to a bed, or both at once.

Sam would pick her up and she'd wrap her legs around him, and devour his lips with passionate, angry kisses until Sam forgot every other way to kiss.

This isn't him, he knows. Dean doesn't need to keep telling him that - he fucking knows.

It's the least himself he's ever been.

(But at least, he's goddamned strong.)

Brady shows up, again.

Sam's unsure of how to react to a demon possessing his best friend from Stanford - for Christ's sake, this is Brady, but then the demon admits to killing Jess and that's when the switch flips and Sam forgets he ever trusted this face.

Sam forgets he ever loved him.

Then, Lucifer happens.

It's unimaginable pain - forever. The Devil pierces through his flesh with knifes and ice cold hands, and tears him apart. The Creator of Hell tortures him, and breaks his bones and burns his skin and makes him beg for death a million times, with each breath.

Sam's chained and bound and raped, and Lucifer owns him for 180 years in the Cage, and makes him hate himself for every choice he's ever made.

Except the one which brought him there - for Sam knows he saved the World and he won't undo it, any chance he gets.

Even though nothing can save him now.

Castiel, his brother's angel, pulls him out of the pit, soulless.

The following fifteen months are a blur, but Sam knows enough to be utterly ashamed of himself.

And when he gets his tormented, ruined soul back, there's a fleeting thought that at least Lucifer's given him a reason to never want sex again - right before he loses his head.

With Amelia, Sam complicates things too much in trying to make them simple.

He can't think about himself anymore - so he stops thinking altogether, because he definitely cannot think about Dean or Castiel. Everything hurts, so he ignores it all, and pretends he's happy.

She believes him.

Sam's unwilling to go through the tiring process of telling her he's asexual - and frankly, as time passes, it feels like he left that word behind in Stanford.

So they sleep together a couple of times, though Sam's heart is never in it. Together, they neither have the emotional connection he and Jess shared, nor the needy attraction the demon blood caused between him and Ruby.

And then Don Richardson returns, and Sam takes the easy way out.

It's too easy leaving her, and not just because the world needs saving again and Dean is back.

Sometimes Sam wonders how real she had been.

Toni Bevell tortures him, on the behalf of the British Men of Letters, to get information.

When it doesn't work, she seduces him, and when Sam wakes up, they're under the covers, and there's wine and candles, and he's completely swallowed in this trance - until he suddenly has a flashback of the dungeons where she'd kept him, and sees through the hallucinations.

But it's not before they've had sex, and he's blindly answered most of her questions, and now it makes Sam feel disgusting.

It makes him feel abused.

Things never go that far with Eileen, but Sam supposes it's the closest he's come to trusting someone as much as he wants to, before he's comfortable kissing her.

She kisses him back gingerly, closing her eyes, and it's goodbye.

Because Sam wanted her to stay, and everyone he's ever wanted close, has always left.

It's after the end of Chuck.

Gabriel returns, for good.

And Sam realizes he has feelings for him, just barely in time to get him to stay - and wonder of wonders, he does.

They're on the bed, with Sam sprawled out in the middle, and Gabriel curled against his side with his arm tucked around him, and Sam's holding him there with a hand, while his other hand intertwines his fingers with Gabriel's.

In this moment, everything's perfect.

"I'm asexual." Sam whispers to the ceiling, quietly. "Or at least, I used to be."

Gabriel hums.

"Can people change?" Sam goes on, braving his heart for the answer.

"What their sexuality means to them can." Gabriel answers, as simple as that. "And it can mean so much, Samwise. Of course it changes."

"Asexuality is the quality or characteristic of having no sexual feelings or desires." Sam repeats, from memory. A really old memory. "It may be considered a sexual orientation or lack thereof."

Gabriel is quiet - they both are, until Sam realizes the archangel thinks he has more to say.

"That's it." Sam admits shyly. "That's the definition fifteen year old Sam read so many times in his head that thirty seven year old Sam remembers."

"Oh, you." Gabriel sits up, cross-legged on the bed. He stares at the hunter and sees the lack of acceptance in his own eyes. "That's over twenty years old, Sam. Listen to me."

"Okay." Sam swallows.

"You can relate to some traits of asexuality and not all of them, and still be considered asexual." Gabriel begins, serious. "You know it's a spectrum, right? So you may think differently about sex than other asexuals. Every asexual is unique, and their identities are shaped by all that that they've gone through, and not just what they were born as."

Well, nobody could've had the same experiences he did. Does that mean -

Gabriel goes on. "You may be grossed out by sex, find it uninteresting, or think it's mildly enjoyable if it's with the right partner."

Sam's eyebrows go up.

He liked sex, or something almost like it, when he was with Jess. It was boring, but not the worst thing in the world, with Amelia. And if all the other times, he's repulsed by it - apparently that's okay too.

"I - I didn't know that."

"Knowing you're on the ace spectrum can be enough." Gabriel tells him, squeezing his hand. "You don't have to define your sexuality every day of your life - it's there to decide who makes you happy, and not who you are."

Sam's speechless.

He's never thought about it like this.

"Call yourself whatever you like, Sammich." Gabriel smiles. "Asexual, demisexual, grey asexual - it's up to you. But don't let a label, or the seeming defiance of it upset you. You're human, not a piece of research you can label and file away in inventory - you're you, and believe me, that's all that matters to the rest of us."

"I -" Sam wishes he has the words to express what he's feeling right now, but he can't find any, so he just squeezes Gabriel's hand back. And mumbles, "I love you."

"I know," Gabriel teases, so Sam lets out a short breath of laughter and leans up to kiss him but Gabriel meets him in the middle. "I'm pretty great."

"Thank you." Sam breathes out, pulling away. "Thank you for everything."

"Shuddup." Gabriel blows a raspberry, just so he can ruin the moment and Sam swats at him playfully. "But hey, quick thing."

"Yeah?"

"Please don't let PTSD affect your take on your own sexuality." Gabriel says, adopting a serious voice again.

"It's hard when a lot of that trauma is related pretty closely to sex." Sam confesses, sighing.

"Yeah. I believe you, it - it must be hard." Gabriel sounds pained to say it. There's silence for a while. Finally, he says, "You know I'm always here if you need to talk, right?"

"It goes both ways."

"Noted." Gabriel leans in this time, and Sam lets him traverse all of the way so that it gets easier to pull him back to bed, instead of him sitting up.

"I'll be truthful with you, Gabe." Sam speaks up, a whole while later. Gabriel turns around to face him, pulling slightly away because they'd been cuddling. "I don't think I'm going to want to have sex ever again."

Gabriel nods in acknowledgement.

"What, that's it?" Sam makes a face. "Here I am, feeling guilty because I'll never be able to want sex with my partner who loves sex, and you're just going to nod?"

"Believe me, Samshine. I've had enough sex in my lifetime." Gabriel clears his throat, throwing in a wink which makes Sam laugh. "And for that matter, I'm pretty self-sufficient."

"You're gross is what you are." Sam rolls his eyes, trying to contain a smile.

"Sure, that too." Gabriel takes it in his stride. "And I'm sure you wouldn't be completely unwilling to help poor me out, if I needed it." His eyebrows dance. "You know, flex for me shirtless, say my name in your sexy voice sorta thing."

Sam swats at him with a pillow as he dissolves in laughter.

"Or even just a quick shoulder peek maybe." Gabriel shrugs, nonchalantly.

"What is it about my shoulders?" Sam huffs, mostly kidding. "I swear, I never stood how they can be an attractive feature on anybody."

"Ah, well." Gabriel makes a dramatic show of giving up hope. "I guess you'd have to be pansexual to get it."

Sam rolls his eyes again.

And that's that.

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starr-fall-knight-rise · 5 years

Text

Humans are Space Orcs, “Ice Skating.”

Here is something for the start of December, and an idea suggested to me by @helen-oftroy. Sorry guys if anything seems rushed. Finals week is fast approaching, so welcome to Stress land :)

“So you’re telling me that you want to go back to the giant planet covered in ice?” Krill wondered skeptically.

Commander Vir lounged a bit to the side in his chair. He was wearing his uniform, as he had taken to doing over the past few months, a good idea considering, his formal, and unexpected meetings with the GA were becoming more and more common.

Krill wasn’t entirely sure how it happened, or entirely sure how he felt about it, but he had, somehow, and in some way become the defacto military leader for the entire galaxy, this young, crazy, and sort of air-headed human, not that he doubted the man’s intelligence. He had gotten over that assumption months ago, but still there was something about him that just didn’t scream I am ready to command an army for the entire Galaxy cluster.

Perhaps it had something to do with the ridiculous hat he was wearing: red and white, with a white pom-pom at the very end sort of floppy and hanging towards one of his shoulders. When Krill had taken the time to ask why he was wearing the stupid thing, the Commander had pointed out, “Because it’s December.” like that was supposed to explain anything.

“And why do you want to go back to the icy death planet?”

The human leaned back in his seat leaning over to glance at their coordinates on screen, “One word Krill, morale.”

“Morale.” “Yes, the collective good will and team spirit of the crew.”

“I know what the word means.” Krill muttered in annoyance, “What I don’t understand is how near freezing conditions, snow, and the possibility of lie-ending blizzards has anything to do with it.”

The man stood for his seat adjusting his stupid hat and turning to walk towards the door, “Oh don’t be such a grinch.”

“A what?”

The human didn’t answer, but laughed at him and stepped down the stairs with a clatter, “Months on end in the blackness of space, surrounded by the void and the monotonous routine of military work, nothing that seems like home, only a few comforts to remember our planet and during that time of year where we would wish nothing more than to be home with our families.”

Krill scuttled after him, “Your point being?”

Commander Vir paused in the hallway to look down at krill, “My point being Krill, is if the crew feels anything like I do, they miss their families, and homesickness is bad for productivity, and it's bad for mental health, so I plan on giving them a small bit of home, and maybe some fun because I take the mental health and satisfaction of my crew very seriously.”

He turned back on his heels and began walking.

“What is so special about December?” Krill wondered vaguely aware that the phrase indicated a specific time of year, though for the life of him, he didn’t know what was so special about it.

“Christian appropriated pagan holidays hijacked by corporate powerhouses to make money by guilt tripping the already financially struggling capitalist populace into buying gifts for people they don't like.”

“What?”

The man just grinned at him, “Tradition, Krill. Glorious pointless tradition, and a reason to eat too much and spend time with people you like, unless you are forced to spend time with people you don't like, in which case, I argue, you are doing it wrong.”

“Does the rest of the crew know about your little stunt.”

“yes , of course they do. I put out a memmo last week, and I have something special planned for the people who have to keep working as well, so no one is left out.”

“Don't suppose I can opt out of this.”

He wasn't entirely sure if the human blinked or winked at him, “Not a chance.”

Krill sighed deeply but followed anyway walking into one of the forward cargo bays surprised to find the pace nearly empty accept for piles and piles of beanbags, blankets and strange looking chairs. Someone had set up a projector towards the front taking up one entire wall of the cargo area. The humans that lounged around were dressed as easily as physically possible in what krill had come to recognize as night-ware. Some of them even wore clothing that suggested at earth animals with big floppy ears on top of hoods.”

The deck quartermaster had appropriated the coffee maker from the mess hall and was using it to heat up water, which was then being mixed into another beverage and passed around to the lounging humans along with strange stricks of red and white.

“Didn’t we have a holiday like last week/”

He waved a hand, “Not really, that was jus an excuse to eat more food.”

“Everything with you is an excuse to eat more food.” Krill grumbled

Commander Vir paused by one of the beanbags where Sunny was lounging craning her head back to look at him, “Have fun, don’t die.” She said

He playfully kicked at her beanbag, “Don't Tempt me, anyway, you guys have access to every Christmas movie for the past two thousand years, well ok except for the last century due to copyright issues, but beyond that you should be able to find SOMETHING to watch.”

She waved him off with a dismissive hand as they walked to the edge of the cargo bay where another moderately large group of humans was suiting up in their winter gear. Krill grumbled in annoyance, but crawled into the containment tube. Commander Vir knocked on the glass offering Krill the ‘scarf’ the human’s mother had once made for Krill before closing the pod.

Commander Vir moved to dress up with the others walking over to hang out with the humans Krill would have said were his close group of friends including the marines like Ramirez, Maverick, and CJ, but also including Narobi and Dr. Katie.

Dr. Katie waved at him from insider her massive fur-lined coat looking like a puffed up marshmallow.

“Alright, you guys load those boxes onto the shuttles and we can get going. Remember to gear up inside the ship, it is pretty cold out there, but the ice field is perfect, so we should be good.”

The other humans nodded in agreement and did as told excitedly running into the shuttles. Commander Vir took the helm of his own, never willing to let someone else pilot if he could help, and they headed into the atmosphere of the massive ice planet. Krill grumpily sat in the back wondering just what kind of shenanigans he should be expecting today, with the humans you never knew.

Upon reaching the ground, Commander Vir powered down the shuttle, and ordered Ramirez to cut open one of the boxes. He did so with pleasure and, Krill was confused to watch as the humans began pulling strange pairs of shoes from the box.

Shoes with metal blades on the feet.

Katie squealed in delight.

Maverick grinned, “Good thing you brought a doctor,eh?’

“Watch me concuss myself.” Narobi sighed

Krill stiffened, statements like that didn’t bode well coming from humans. He glanced towards Commander Vir who grabbed a pair of the shoes from a box, and was just then lacing them up on his feet. How they expected to stand up was beyond him. Twisting and ankle was a horrible possibility.

At the end of the line Ramirez already had his skates done up, and now stood on the hard metal floor.

Krill waited for him to tip over, but somehow, and in some way, the human balanced himself on a surface area that was no more than a couple of millimeters wide.

“What are you doing.” Krill ventured warily.

“We have an entire planet covered in ice, so we are going to ice skate on it, duh.”

Krill’s panic was immediate. Ice, metal, and a sharp surface clearly DESIGNED to reduce friction.

After they subdued Krill’s conniption fit, the shuttle door was opened. Krill watched from his enclosure in barely contained panic as Maverick stepped out onto the blinding ice, one boot and then the other. She wobbled for a second gliding out onto the cie. She wobbled again, “YOu should have worn helmets at LEAST.”

But in the next moment Maverick slid one of her feet to the side, and then the other in a strange walking motion. Before Krill could complain further, the human was suddenly gliding across the ice in a wide arc laughing and increasing speed as the edges of the skates bit into the clear surface of blue tinted ice, leaving a trail of white behind her.

Dr. Katie followed after wobbling and giggling.

Narobi was not so brave stepping onto the ice as she clutched onto one of the shuttles struts wobbling and slipping, nearly falling over on two occasions muttering about how her ancestors didn’t lend her very well to the ice. Commander Vir laughed at her expense, and she glowered at him, but broke into a wide grin as soon as he stepped onto the ice with a confident swagger only to fall into a flailing wheeling mess tripping backwards to land with a sharp thud on the cie and go skidding outwards.

Krill winced in concern angry that he couldn’t go back on the human.

The others broke into laughter and pointing.

Maverick made it a point to skate a circle around him.

Krill didn’t see how the man planned on getting up, but watched as he placed his hands on the ground driving the picks of his skates into the ice before slowly wobbling to his feet, “I meant to do that.” he announced, only to be laughed at for a second time.

It was from then on that Krill watched in horror and anxiety as the humans slid slipped and wobbled about on the ice. More than once he watched the humans plow into each other, fall over, slip backwards or something else horrible.

Narobi had finally let go of the shuttle, but immediately regretted it sliding past krill with her arms flailing screaming for help.

She was laughed at, until she ended up on her but and began scooting back towards the shuttle.

When they DID manage to remain upright they sometimes managed to look graceful, like leaves caught in a gust of wind. Maverick and Katie were ok, and managed to remain upright normally, though they had created a game of racing each other, and then sliding to the ground to go skidding on their sides across the ice to see who could go further.

Commander Vir could remain on his feet, but it was nothing pretty.

Ramirez laughed and hooted from where he sat beside Krill on the open ramp his feet resting straight out on the ice.

Commander Vir skidded to an awkward flailing halt just before him after a while, “hey, aren’t you coming.”

Krill detected a subtle hint of embarrassment on the marine’s face, “I’m actually just having fun watching.”

“Do you not know how.” THe commander wondered.

The marine shuffled his feet, “it's not that I don’t know how.”

“Then come on.” He reached down grabbing ramirez by the hand and hauling him to his feet nearly toppling backwards, but Ramirez caught the two of them, and they slid out onto the ice. Commander Vir grinned, “Well that worked a bit better than I had intended.”

Ramirez let him go, “Ok, ok, you got me.”

He then skated a tight circle around the Commander, and there was…. Something different about the way he moved as if he was testing the ice.

He watched the marine effortlessly slid forward cutting between the figures and around his flailing counterparts slowly gaining speed. He crossed one foot over the other and turned around. Krill covered his eyes expecting the human to go plowing into the ice.

That was when the human began skating backwards hands behind his back.

It looked effortless.

He slid past Dr. Katie who whistled, “WHOO Ramirez, you go.”

The others had turned to look now, as the human cut backwards in a wide circle, his legs crossing back and forth and back and forth with ease. The backwards skate changed as he added a couple of quick spins while still maintaining his wide parabola. The other humans slid to a stop.

Ramirez came around another corner one leg fully off the ground.

Krill grimaced.

Someone had had music playing from a speaker by one of the other ships, and as the field grew quiet, the human picked up on the beat skating backwards, and in circles and little twists.Arms were thrown in and he rolled like a stalk of grass caught in high wind, never falling over.

One leg, two legs, little spins.

And that's when the idiot started jumping, tiny little hops at first, using the picks at the front of the skates to gain traction before leaping into the air. Then he’d jump into the air and turn landing on the other foot.

The humans were cheering.

There was no way this was real, it was so strange. The amount of coordination flexibility and trust in his own body was phenomenal and impossible. There was no way. Ramirez rolled past backwards bringing his arms into a tight spin that had him as a blur, then he'd open up his arms to slow his momentum skating out of it again.

Commander Vir whistled, “Ramirez, you sexy bastard, do a flip.” Ramirez rolled past again, “Are you flirting with me commander?” He teased

Commander Vir crossed his arms grinning not backing down, “Stop being so talented and you want have this problem.”

He slid back the other way on one leg.

“Buy me dinner first.”

“I'll buy you dinner if you do a flip.” The human slid backwards in the other direction again gaining speed.

“I haven’t warmed up.”

“Do it.”

The human spun in another circle now legs crossing and then leaped into the air. Krill squealed and went to hide his eyes but couldn’t look away.

One

Two

Three rotations.

He hit the ground on one leg arms out to the side and slid backwards in a tight circle with a grace almost inhuman. Together the humans erupted into cheers clapping and hollering.

“You owe me dinner.”

Commander Vir laughed, “That was a spin not a flip, but I guess I'll consider it.”

Ramirez frowned, “No no, you’ll get what you want.”

Even commander vir was beginning to look concerned now, “I you don’t have to, you win.”

“No, you insisted.”

The humans had gone to shaking their heads now giving warning calls. This was bad this as very very bad. Ramirez skated out and then turned around moving forward slowly at a middling speed and then jumped throwing his feet over his head. Light ran over blades as, for a moment his head was oriented towards the ground and his feet towards the sky, and then he landed, feet first.

It was the first time Krill had seen him off balance. He skidded failed and then fell backwards landing on his hands as he slid into the circle of humans.

But despite his fall the humans erupted with cheering.

“Holy shit.” The commander said looking surprised.

“You owe me dinner for a month.” Ramirez pointed out chin jutting in defiance.

Commander Vir hauld him to his feet, “Fine, you win, I wont even argue because that was fucking awesome. Where did you learn to do that?”

He shuffled his feet in embarrassment, “Er…. well. Because I was training for the Olympics.”

“WHAT. Well why didn’t you go, you’re so good.”

He shrugged, “Because ice skaters don’t go to space. I wanted to serve humanity, so I joined the UNSC instead. I still skate when I can, but I don’t regret what I did.”

The entire crew was alerted to their return, not because they really intended it, but because there was no point in trying to stop Krill’s tirade and no way to quiet him once he had gotten going, “OUTRAGEOUS STUPIDITY. Gallivanting around without the use of FRICTION strapping knives to your feet and then dancing on it. Twisted ankles, concussions, broken tailbones, all so that you can look cool. And you aren’t even happy with just being able to transport, but you have to be able to do tricks throwing ourselves off balance on purpose jumping into the air DOING FLIPS ON ICE WHERE THERE IS NO FRICTION.” Commander Vir walked past the staring crew carrying the angry Vrul under one arm.

“Don’t mind us.”

“And you call this morale! I should have known that when you said this it was going to involve ENDANGERING PEOPLE LIVES.”

He walked out of the room and Krill’s voice slowly faded down the hall.

“INCONCEIVABLE BARBARISM, IDIOCY, LUNACY. A QUICK PATH TO YOUR GRAVES DUG PAVED WITH lunacy and my own broken sanity you crazy ass bastard! Constantly putting the life of your crew...in.... .....danger.....

#humans are insane #humans are space orcs #humans are space australians #humans are space oddities #HUMANS ARE WEIRD #earth is a deathworld #Earth is space Ausralia

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malumsmermaid · 4 years

Text

Summer Days

Part of the 5SOS writer collab headed up by @h0tsos and @maluminspace

Based on the prompt “I don’t know if you noticed, but I have no idea what I’m doing. I almost never do.”

Camp Counselors Malum

Writing Collab Masterlist

Warnings: None! All Fluff

Word Count: 1.9k

After a semester of student teaching for one of their college courses, it was time for summer, and Calum and Michael had decided to stay in town and hold down the apartment for their other two roommates who were electing to go home. Once finals had wrapped up and they said goodbye to the classes they’d been working with they began looking for jobs. They were both sitting in bed together when Michael found an available job working a summer day camp. The pair talked about it for a few minutes before applying, assuming playing games and mainly supervising kids would be easier than lesson planning and having to actually teach things. Plus they were excited by the possibility of seeing some of their kids again, so Calum pulled out his laptop and they sat side by side as they applied.

After about two weeks it was clear that this was different. For one thing, due to low staffing, the kids were all split up into three groups instead of one group per grade level. So now, even though Michael and Calum recognized some of the kids in their group, some of those kids who were bearable during the school year now had some slight sibling drama. Then there were the parents, something Michael and Calum had yet to deal with. Half of them were fine, nice people who cared about their kids and were happy to hear about their day during pick up. The other half, however, was a mix of Karens and Beckys, some of them stay at home moms who were just getting the kids out of the house so that they could go have margs with their girl friends and have a spa day to wash away the stress of the thought of them actually being parents. Some of them even had Michael wondering if he should go to the pharmacy and get a second flu shot for that year.

However, despite some of the parents they had to deal with and the occasional drama, both sibling spats and between groups of friends, Michael and Calum were really enjoying their summer job. They kept up their school year tradition of every other payday one taking the other out for a date night, whether it was as simple as going out to dinner and a movie, or a sunset picnic, or a nice night in the bowling alley.

It was five weeks in, and even with kids coming and going with the weeks, some just disappearing for a one week vacation, others having other camps to go to, things had steadied. It was a rainy Friday at the start of the Fourth of July weekend, so attendance was low to begin with, some kids leaving early. A few of the kids who were there were upset over swim time being cancelled on account of the thunder, but Calum had run down to the gym, claiming it for their group as a replacement for the hour of swimming.

Calum gone to set up the games and the crafts set up on the counter to dry until parents came, Michael and the other leader started a round of Heads Up Seven Up to keep things quiet and calm until Calum said he was ready. Finally, Calum radioed down that everything was ready and Michael got all the kids lined up, hovering to the back of the line as they made their way through the rec center to the gym. Once in the gym, the kids all gathered around Calum and he smiled saying, “Ok, since it’s a small group today, we’re doing stations. We’ve got two boxes of four square, two spots for basketball games, and then some jump ropes and hula hoops. I’m gonna put on some music and whenever it stops you have to move to a new station, alright?” The kids all cheered and Calum smiled continuing, “Alright, I’m going to give you each a number and that’s going to be the station you’re starting at, ok?”

Once the kids were all split up into groups and ready to start, Calum made his way over to the radio, pulling up a Kidz Bop only playlist on his phone that was already connected to the AUX jack and hitting play. The two men hovered around each other, eyes on the playing kids. After a few songs Michael hummed, “Can’t wait to go home and make dinner with legitimately any other playlist on.”

Calum smirked, hand coyly reaching up to rub Michael’s back, “Bold of you to assume that I won’t overtake the speaker and put this right back on.”

Michael shot his boyfriend a sharp look, filled with a threat that he couldn’t voice at work. Calum just bit his lip in response, pausing the music before a fifth song could play and calling out “Time to switch!”

They made it through three station changes before one of the kids from Michael’s class earlier that year came running over, “Mr. Michael!!! Come play HORSE with us!!”

Michael gave Calum a wide eyed stare as the other kids in the group came running over, grabbing him by his hands and dragging him over to their half of the basketball court. He ended up making the first few easy shots, but then one of the kids made a shot from beyond the foul line. Calum could read the anxiety in his boyfriend’s face when it was his turn, silently begging the younger man to change stations early to rescue him.

Calum, however, remained strong, knowing an army of upset kids was worse than Michael missing the shot. At least, until he watched the blonde’s feet slip out from under him as he shot, toppling backwards onto the floor as the basketball fell to the ground halfway between him and the hoop.

Calum quickly jogged over, phone left on top of the radio. He helped Michael to his feet, the pair holding on maybe a second or two longer than necessary before Calum pulled away, “Need an ice pack?” he teased lightly as Michael rubbed the back of his head.

“Nah, I think I’ll live,” the blonde returned, smiling as the kids checked on him too. “Besides, I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but I have no idea what I’m doing. I almost never do, but especially with sports stuff.”

The kids all giggled at Michael’s response and Calum hummed. “Fine, I guess we can swap, then. Mike, you run the music and I’ll play HORSE. We’ve got until the end of this song before they need to switch again.”

Michael gave his boyfriend a teasing salute before going over to the music, tapping the screen to see how long until the song was over. He hummed as he saw texts from their group chat with Luke and Ashton. As soon as the song was over he paused the new one and made the switch stations call. Once the kids were all moving in the same direction, Calum getting pulled into four square, Michael opened the texts, using Calum’s passcode. He skimmed the latest line from Ashton, something about one of his plants. Michael just opened Calum’s camera, pulling the phone super close to his face for a picture.

Can’t talk, working right now. Plant update t-minus 3 hours.

As soon as the message sent Michael put the phone back down, watching on as Calum tried to take it easy on the kids, even if none of them returned the favor. Calum ended up trapped at four square for the rest of the time in the gym, Michael jumping when he realized it was ten minutes past when they were supposed to be having afternoon snack. Calum gathered a kid from each group to help him get everything back in the equipment room, everything going away much quicker than it had come out, and soon enough they were back in the classroom.

Two hours later and there were three kids left out of all the groups, other leaders leaving Calum and Michael to wait with the kids in the game room while they cleaned the classrooms before clocking out. Calum was sitting in one of the chairs in front of a tv, a kid next to him in another chair as they played minecraft. Michael was sitting at the table with the other two kids, signout book by his elbow as he colored with them. Soon enough the two kids with Michael were going home with their stepdad and Michael picked up the crayons and extra sheets of paper. Once they were back in the closet he picked up the binder and meandered over to the xbox station.

Calum let out an exasperated sigh as Michael leaned up against the back of his chair, knocking down a stair block again. “Julien how do you get the stairs to go upside down like that dude?”

“You jus gotta fly over and like, plop a block and then aim for the top.” Julien explained.

“Oh gosh, I keep forgetting that we can fly right now...how do I do that again?”

Michael snorted and Calum spun around, giving him his best puppy eyes as he pouted, “I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but I have no idea what I’m doing. I almost never do.”

Michael chuckled softly as Calum repeated his earlier statement back to him. He shoved down the temptation to kiss the pout off of Calum’s lips, instead turning to look at Julien, “Are you enjoying explaining how to play Minecraft to Mr. Calum, Julien, or would you like some actual help with your treehouse?”

Julien’s face lit up as he looked up at Michael, “Please??”

Calum just shook his head in defeat, handing the controller over as Michael pulled up another chair, setting the binder in Calum’s lap as he leaned forward, listening as Julien explained his vision for the treehouse project.

Right as Calum was about to call the main office to let them know that there was still one kid at their site, Julien’s mom came running in. They chatted for a minute, Julien excitedly telling his mom about beating Michael at HORSE “because he fell down and Mr. Calum had to take over.”

Once Julien was sure he had all his stuff and they’d cleaned up, Michael and Calum went into the office, signing onto the tablet to log their hours for the day before making their way to the car. As they sat in their seats, Michael queuing up music for the drive home, Calum turned in his seat asking, “Does your head still hurt from knocking against the floor, Mikey?”

Michael hummed, glancing towards his boyfriend and then the ceiling as he pretended to think, “Maybe a little…”

Calum grinned, leaning over, gently pushing Michael’s head so he could smooch the back of it. “Better?”

Michael smiled, shaking his head no and tapping his cheek next, then his nose, and then his lips, each one following a new kiss from Calum in the previously tapped place. Michael sighed when Calum broke the kiss to his lips too soon for his liking. “More kisses when we get home, I promise.” Calum teased easily, finally pulling his seatbelt over his shoulder.

“I can live with that. Want me to teach you Minecraft after dinner, or were you enjoying Julien telling you what to do?”

“Maybe if you can properly motivate me I’ll learn it.” Calum said, wiggling his dark eyebrows at Michael.

“So long as you don’t forget afterwards,” Michael said, grin spreading his cheeks as he put the car in drive and began the route home.

Writer Discord: @cashtonasfuck @kingcals @koalacal @loveroflrh @goth5sos @irwinkitten @5-secondsofcolor @5sosnsfw @punkrockpreferences @gigglyirwin @fallinluke @calumcest @catearscliffo @mermaidcashton @spicycal @sublimehood @shal-pal @queer-5sos @mysticalhood @pinkbubbles-and-bigtroubles @castaway-cashton @jae-writes-fanfiction @sexgodashton @vipclifford @adoringlrh

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#calum hood #michael clifford #malum #calum hood fluff #michael clifford fluff #malum fluff #5sos writing collab

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brooklynislandgirl · 4 years

Text

@mynameisanakin

Unfortunately, Beth is a little late to the party.

As has become a common ritual during the weekends they haunt the lanai each starting on opposite sides of the wicker not-quite-sofa until by some cosmic ideal they become entangled in a mass of stray limbs, soft skin, and a kind of warmth that rivals the sun. It is a companionable silence while he reads and she knits. Where they can disengage from the world and still feel connected to it through the existence of the other. It’s one of those things too difficult to describe if the person being told has never experienced it for themselves.

So when Anakin’s voice raises the small hairs along the nape of her neck, the crashing book startling her enough to jerk her head up from this particular perl, there is a moment of confusion written across her face in worry lines in her brow, the formation of frown-lines at the corners of her mouth. And for one glorious instant had there been a clear and present danger, it almost looks like she would have stabbed it with said knitting needle.

“Wha-” the whole word doesn’t make it out of her mouth. Beth is used to Anakin’s creative use of impolite expletives, how the shape of them along with tone have come to convey so many different things, but when she catches the rest of it she can’t help but look away. Partially in an effort to conceal the sudden flicker of honest-to-goodness brimstone and fire guilt. Partially to not have him bear witness to the discomfort that might otherwise have made itself apparent because she isn’t very good at hiding things. And the honest truth is the few times that Beth has ever felt any latent attraction to anyone or anything, they have been of that particular persuasion. Though she knows for a fact that what some writers get up to in their fiction and the reality of these beings are vastly different.

Beth could tell Anakin all about the Changing Breeds. Well, at least the ones she knows about, which account for at least four different kinds. She could tell Anakin what has been theorised about the Kindred and the oddity that is having relations with what amounts to their food source. She is pretty sure she’s never seen a green bean that she wanted to kiss breathless. She was a little less sure about ghosts and the like but she could, if it were ever to become important, ask one or more. And she does believe that love is one of the few things that transcends death. She doesn’t trust the fae to give an answer in any form of truthfulness. And those like them?

Well, as much as it’s painful to admit, the Awakened are still very much human. It doesn’t really matter what side of Ascension you fall on, you’re prone to the same wants and desires as the rest of the world. It’s just that you have slightly more options on how to go about getting what it is you crave. And that also makes Beth suddenly painfully aware that there is more Anakin under her than their perch, and very slowly she begins the process of unravelling their tangled bits of limb and clothes. Until now it wasn’t a concern, this sort of cuddle-puddle as her brother would call it was not uncommon between them, was no more scandalous as being curled up on an inside couch and watching a movie that they usually ended up talking through and at, as if the people on the screen could hear them and react differently in light of new information. Or any of a hundred other intimacies and liberties taken with each other.

What she doesn’t like is the way he intones the word ‘stupid’. She’s heard it one too many times as a slight not only on her intelligence but as slur for whatever foreign quality she threatened the speaker with at the time. She doesn’t bother to correct him on it, or even point it out. She knows he doesn’t mean it that way, that it’s merely a word to express his frustration and it’s one she understands all too well. Just as she knows if she did bring it up he would eat himself alive with guilt. Would spend upwards of weeks trying to apologise for something that wasn’t even really that much of a big deal. Somehow, she is glad he was never a samurai during the Edo period. Even as she worried about his self-castigation, he’s already starting to wilt, to recoil in on himself emotionally and as an instinct his arm curls around her leg before she can really sit up, drop her knitting in the basket, and focus her attentions on what he’s saying. And she lets him. Mostly. The closer he gets to the scar, the less comfortable she is, and she slides that leg away, placing her foot squarely on the floor.

As always, her gaze flutters in lackadaisical circuits between his eyes and his mouth. Sometimes Anakin gets this almost lazy way of talking that makes it hard for her to pick out every individual word so she pays more attention to his lips than maybe is good for either of them.

There’s a soft exhale of a laugh when he pauses, she can almost hear the unspoken thoughts and she is quite familiar with the sentiment. There’s some books she can’t get through, which gives her something to offer him once he’s gotten out all the things she can see lurking in his expression.

She does sneak a glance at the title, and doesn’t know the author. The cover itself is questionable. The sort of thing that gets hastily put together, often by a design artist who hasn’t even read the text. Or who only cribbed the dust jacket snippets. “Who told you dat you’d like it? Because I don’ t’ink ya really ought ta call dem ya friend no more.” She listens to the synopsis with an open mind. At least at first. But the more he talks about the character, the worse and worse she starts to feel. Because in some ways, he could be describing her. Well, with the whole exception of strength. She has emotional and intellectual fortitude, that’s for certain. But she isn’t exactly playing first string for the Saints, is she? In times she has to she can borrow a bit of physical prowess from the earth but that’s not what he really means, and not something she brags about. Though it does remind her that she should probably teach him that rote along with a few others.

He loses her there for a little bit. Not in the explanation but in the context and she’s almost horrifically curious to pick it up and see exactly what he’s talking about. If the inner sense of shame doesn’t do her in as he continues to explain. Her mouth opens slowly and then closes right up. Especially biting back the need to defend the character but also distance herself from the perceived comparison that could be drawn.

She is only so very thankful when he groans again, this time allowing the sound to pool down at the bottom of her spine, and that he shuts his eyes so he doesn’t see the garish clash of red on her cheeks and that faint green-around-the-gills she knows are both there. Although Anakin has here right then and there. Right at ‘morality wank’ and she can’t help the outburst of very real laughter followed by an apologetic squeeze of his knee. She hadn’t meant to but faces from her life before Anakin came into it serve to flesh out the imagery he’s painting.

She manages to hold it all together until he says the last two words, and again, anxious laughter comes bubbling up from inside her until she has to fan herself with her own hand for fear of lacking oxygen. She turns her head to the side and coughs softly before taking a more sobering breath. And when she talks, she tries her very hardest to keep the whole wine-auntie tone out of everything.

“No, I feel dis gotta come wi’ one caveat and dat’s uhm...I may not be da right person f’ say any of dis. But I...I t’ink dis writer would probably end up so much kibble if she evah try f’ do proper research. I know it’s fiction an’ all, but...dere is jus’ so much wrong wi’ da way ya explain it an’ I am so sorry for laughing. I promise, I no was laughing at you.”

No, it’s jumbled and not very clear at all, and she should have started out with the apology.

“Yeah, naw. See... I was t’inkin’ dat I could salvage some kine about dis, but no can. Mebbe a mo’ beddah way about it den is...t’ aks ya if mebbe...was dere any part ya like? Or dat you were okay pretendin’ t’ believe? Like... was it da actual sex part boddah you, or da pseudo-psychology of makin’ excuses, puttin’ on aires? Or was it all jus’ so bad, ya no can wi’ any of it?”

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sheriffofmagic · 5 years

Note

Im always a big slut for hurt/comfort, so if you made it Vang0Chainz I would perish. Also Burger Chainz trying to enculture Vang0Bang0 by having a movie marathon that turns into a sleepover. Also what if Burger knew Vang0 before he lost his memory but promised Vango that he'd never tell him who he was before. im also tipsy lol im jus throwing spaghetti places. i love your blog btwww

I was going to go to sleep but i saw this ask and had to start writing immediately (must have some weird dumb pavlovian response to vang0chainz) anyway this is super dumb hopefully, maybe you’ll enjoy it. it’s almost 5am and i didnt proofread this so its definitely a huge mess but uhhhhh here’s the trash you ordered

---

“Will you stop fussing?” Vang0 says, snappier than he intended.

Burger Chainz pulls back from where he’d been inspecting Vang0’s hurt shoulder, a mix of hurt and embarrassment on his face.

“It’s not like this is the first time I’ve been shot,” Vang0 continues, “at least… I don’t think it is. Muscle memory or somethin’. Anyways, I mean it. I’m fine. And you hovering over me like I’m about to drop dead isn’t helping.”

Vang0’s not fine, obviously. He’s been shot which, muscle memory or not, stings like a bitch and more than anything makes him mourn for his jacket which there is no salvaging from the burn marks. A shame really, the chrome color had nearly matched that of his hair. He’d been thinking of turning it into his signature look, perfect for merchandising. Oh well. He wasn’t dead so that was a plus of sorts....

They were at Vang0 and Burger’s place (technically Vang0’s but Burger was there so often the distinction hardly felt necessary anymore) and, aside from the bullet wound, this was a pretty typical Saturday night. The TV providing a low din of noise to fill the empty spaces of whatever inane conversation was taking place between the two of them. Tonight was more tense than usual. Vang0 Bang0 was not a strong man. High charisma, low constitution. All that. Hiding pain wasn’t exactly in his repertoire but ignoring it? That he might be able to manage, especially if it stopped his massive cyborg friend from pulling the kicked puppy look for the next couple of hours.

Night City wasn’t exactly known for it’s premium broadcasting, most nights after midnight channels tended to switch to the same things. Classics. Vang0 didn’t care much for it, looking back at the past, even the fictional past, wasn’t really his thing. Burger Chainz, though, Burger Chainz loved them. Tried to hide it, Vang0 knew, but he’d referenced them often enough that Vang0 picked up. Vang0 was observant like that, even though he pretended not to be.

All this to say, it was after midnight, Vang0 was the one in pain, and yet Burger looked like he was the one on the verge of a breakdown. Vang0 took pity on him, the kind he only indulged in when the streams were turned off and the hour was late and he could pretend he and Burger were just normal friends, “What’s this one about again?”

Burger looks startled for a moment then glances briefly between the TV and Vang0, “Uhh, it’s a rom-com. He’s emailing another kid from his school but he doesn’t know who it is.”

Vang0 bites back a sardonic comment about how if this kid really wanted to know who his secret admirer was he could cross reference the dialogue patterns and… yeah maybe he can see why he’s not the most fun person to watch movies with and- oh. Burger is still talking.

“-things were different back then, ya know? People weren’t so… nice.”

Vang0 laughs, “You think people are nicer now?”

He gestures to the wound in his shoulder and Vang0 rolls his eyes (Eye? Can monochrome robotic eyes roll?) “Well, not bad folks maybe. Criminals still aren’t great. Prone to violence and all that. But normal people? Yeah I think they’re better.”

“Well aren’t you optimistic.”

Without missing a beat Burger replies with a wry smile, “Well, I have to be don’t I? With you around. Gotta cancel out that negative energy.”

Burger goes back to watching the TV, a slight uptick in the corners of his mouth. Vang0 can only look at him half dumbstruck, half distracted by the pain (getting shot really does hurt).

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

Burger Chainz glances toward him, unsure, “Mean no offense. Just- you kind of assume the worst. About situations. ‘Bout people. Sometimes, even ‘bout yourself, if it’s not outta line to say.”

“It is.”

“Okay.” An awkward silence. Punctuated by the sounds of the film, too loud to be filling this space. This isn’t the conversation Vang0 wanted to be having. Not now. Not ever, if he could help it.

“How is it wrong for me to assume the worst? Huh? People do the worst all the time. We see it every day. You see the world we live in? You want me to be optimistic here? After everything I’ve gone through?”

Burger finally looks away from the screen, for once there’s no tension in his brow, only sureness. “I don’t want you to be anything other than yourself but goin’ through life thinking every shadow is out to get ya isn’t much of a way of livin’.”

“I didn’t think I’d have to remind you of all people that I have good reason to be distrustful.”

“You don’t. I-” he sighs, “I just wish you’d be willing to things as more than just black and white.”

“Oh forgive me if I’ve had some encounters,” he gestures to his shoulder, “that paint Night City in a bad light.”

Burger hesitates, “Does it hurt?”

“Obviously.”

“Right…”

They lapse into silence again, both of them staring at the screen but Vang0 can tell from the rigid set of Burger’s shoulders that he’s not really paying attention. He’s too on edge.

It’s not until after the emotional turning point of the film that Burger Chainz breaks the silence. The kid’s friends have all abandoned him, over something stupid Vang0 presumes despite not having paid much attention to what was going on. The kid was angry. Alone. And then the resolution starts and he’s so not alone anymore.

“It can’t all be bad though, right?” Burger asks tentatively.

Vang0 raises an eyebrow at him though which he means to convey Uh well, it is. In case you forgot I was shot by a person in your dumb city just a few hours ago. But which Burger Chainz apparently interprets as… honestly Vang0 has no clue how that man’s mind works.

“I- I mean. It’s not all bad all the time. Aside from the getting shot thing. Not great.”

“Can’t forget the memory wipe.”

Burger’s eye darts around the room, “R-right that too but- But. It’s not all bad. I mean, it’s pretty bad but think about it. You have an apartment and your fans and a sorta job and Dasha and- and me.”

He pauses.

“And that can’t all be bad. I’m only sayin’- the whole world ain’t out to get you, only part of it.”

This shouldn’t be comforting. At all. It should be unsettling. It should make Vang0 want to laugh bitterly and spout some brilliant sardonic response about the world being a cruel place that doesn’t care about people like him. But the music in the movie has shifted to something more hopeful. But it’s the late hours of the night where things like hope are less dangerous to feel. But Burger is looking at him with a soft look in his eyes. Like he really believes what he’s saying, the sap, and like he wants Vang0 to believe it too. He doesn’t but for just a second, Vang0 wants to. He wants to believe in a world with gentleness, the one Burger seems to be able to see where no one else can.

He sighs. Not a defeat. Not an agreement because Vang0 never yields. But an acceptance.

Vang0 tries to release the tension from his shoulders as much as he can, schooling his face into something less jaded. If anyone deserves to believe the world isn’t all sharp edges it’s Burger.

He looks between Burger and the screen, “So do these kid’s friends suck or is that just me?”

There’s a flash of disappointment across Burger’s face, but he’s never been one to push especially not with Vang0. If he drops the subject, Burger will follow. The flash is gone in an instant and a small smile grows across Burger’s face, any residual tension drifting away with it.

“Definitely not just you, they suck. You might’ve missed it but earlier they-”

And he semi-listens to Burger re-explain the plot of the movie he hadn’t bothered to pay attention to but he finds it capturing him more now. His attention is locked somewhere between the play-by-play and the actions occurring on screen. It’s the resolution now and everything seems to be coming together just a little to easily. The friends are back and the school is welcoming and the crush is confessed and everything is wrapped up too neatly for Vang0 to feel satisfied. There’s still a panging ache in his shoulder. His head is still chattering away as it has been since he woke up. Still there is that faint voice urging him to pull away. To focus on what he’s good at and make content and be alone and convince himself that that is enough. But the volume is so low that the old pop tune playing over the credits doesn’t feel abrasive. Burger is leaning in towards him slightly, conspiratorially, as if talking about this dumb classic is as important as mission details. There’s a smile on Burger’s lips that reaches his eyes. And Vang0 is content, for this moment, to pretend that happy endings are enough.

#this is... bad #but i tried and that counts for something #i was t*psy when i started writing this and am no longer t*psy if that gives and perspective #answered #burgerbang0 #vang0chainz #Anonymous

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nbcreepere · 5 years

Text

Beauty and the Stinky Boi (Remus x Reader)

CHAPTER 13 Warning: There will be references to having sex, but no smut. I don't do smut. There may also be miner cussing and violence. Like no one get's a tiny hand print on them, it's a little worse. Sorry in advance. A few days after he had kissed me and saved me from being hit by Roman we hung out. We loved just hanging out, it was because we loved seeing each other and even just being funny or weird. That first real kiss was the last one he gave me. I was to scared to kiss him or fully tell him how I felt towards him. Today we were in his room and decided to just stay there to not run into one of the others. We watched some movies for the first part of the day. We went back and forth with Disney movies and horror movies. He would chose horror movies that would be gory and disturbing, but if I was scared by any part he would let me hold him, so I just held him during each one of his movies. During his he would say what they could have done to get away or how fake some stuff was. I chose all my favorite Disney movies, and I got to chose the last movie. I thought of a good Disney movie and soon turned on Beauty and the Beast. We watched it and he was actually enjoying it. He was watching it as if it was one of the, what he called, great parts in a horror movie. After the movie ended he wanted to hear me sing my favorite part. I told him I wouldn't because I'm not one to sing for others. He gave me puppy eyes and a frown. "Fine, but you have to sing your favorite song from it." He only smiled and nodded. I soon song the song and he applaud. I was flustered but he started singing Tale as Old as Time. He wasn't bad at singing as it was soothing to the point I could sleep. He finished with a long ending and sat down. "You sound... amazing!" I told him. He smiled saying,"Thanks,(y/n). You aren't bad yourself!" I smiled at him. We started on the next thing. We were drawing and being creative, him a little more disturbing, but it was alright. I was just doing some random sketches as he drew actual pictures. When he would finish he'd go and show me being very proud of it. "I love it!" I would say giving a loving smile. After a few hours of drawing we played board games. He would fail to understand the rules and would try setting the board on fire. We set that aside and decided to make a game. "Ok so the game could be we have to change something about us slowly, whether it was cloths or adding make up, and wait till the other person notices. If they catch you in the process of doing something of changing your appearance you lose." He said loving his idea. "Yes! I love it! Let's start it now!" I exclaimed. I would keep a very close eye on Remus so I could try to win. We did a few other things and ended up lying down on his bed. Our feet were dangling off and we were on different sides of the bed. We were just talking and it had been about an hour since we created the game and he had done nothing yet. I guessed he forgot so as I got him talking about one of his ideas I slipped off my jeans and slipped on something close by that was his. I was unlucky and had grabbed a pair of boxers. I hoped they were clean as I slipped them on and waited. Just a while after we were moving around and playing games. He hadn't noticed that I was wearing his stuff at all so I was winning the game so far. We sat down and started playing truth or dare. "Is it true that you love me as the mighty hero?" He asked to my truth. "Why yes it is my brave knight." I joked. "Truth or dare?" I asked. He didn't have to think about it as he said dare. I thought for a second of what the dare should be." I dare you to act a lot more clean minded for ten minutes!" He almost went pale."Fine! Truth or-" He stopped, I guess he was waiting or thinking of something."dare?" He finished. "Truth!" I smiled. "Are those my boxers that you are wearing?" He asked. I looked down and remembered our game and how I just won. "Yes they are, and I jus-" He cut me off by pulling me into a kiss like the one the day he saved me. I kissed back and when we finished he asked me if I liked him like that. "You fool, I love you." I said kissing him. He soon stood up and picked me up with him. My legs were wrapped around his waist as we kissed. He sat down on his bed and pulled apart from me. "How far may I go?" He asked looking me up and down. I paused and waited for a minute."The ten minutes are up so let your mind lose on me." I didn't care any more, I trusted him, loved him, and he is my forever love. After I told him that he did let his mind lose. I woke up the next morning lying next to Remus. Our cloths were in different places and I could't see some of them. Hickey's were all over me and I didn't care because it was amazing. I snuggled up to his warm body and closed my eyes. He hugged me back and opened his eyes. "Good morning beautiful." He whispered to me. "Morning. Can it just be night again?" I asked jokingly which made him laugh a little. "Was it that good?" He asked. "Better." He gasped at my response, but I could feel him smiling. "Are you hungry?" I asked him. "Only for you."He purred. "No you dork, for actual food." I giggled. "Calling me a whale dick now aren't we? Well, I'm not, but if you are I can take you to Thomas' to eat." He said kissing my forehead. I nodded."That would be lovely." I got up and got dressed. I couldn't find my shirt so I just put on a big hoodie. He slipped something on and gave me another kiss. He took me back, but we were in a closet. Before he left he put my hand on the doorknob so I could open it. I opened the door and there Thomas was placing some food on the table. "Hey, (y/n)! You cam just in time! Breakfast is ready! Have a seat." He said cheery. The others came down and I did my best to hide the hickey's that they might see. After breakfast we all sat down to talk. Roman was distant and tried not to talk to me, but I would catch him staring at me. While me and Logan were talking Roman came over to me. "What's that on your neck?" He asked rudely. I was a little scared. I was sore from the night before and was in no position to fight. "Are those...hickey's?" He asked. "W-what? Roman just leave m-" Before I could finish he took the hoodie off me. I did my best to cover up because my top was not covered (if girl then you had a bra on or binder). He looked at me and took my left wrist with a tight grip. Thomas wanted to intervene but I told him to take the others out. Roman's grip tightened and I felt a sharp pain come from my wrist. "I told you not to see him, didn't I?" He asked with an angry tone. I was to shaken to say anything. "DIDN'T I?"He yelled. I panicked and tried to punch him, but he dogged it. "You're a pathetic slut to go for someone like him!" He yelled throwing me on the floor. my back hurt like hell, but I managed to get up and slip the hoodie back on. Thomas rushed down and hugged me."I'm so sorry... I don't know what's gotten into him. We all decided that with how you are lowering Remus' thoughts he gives me we will support and protect you two." Thomas told me."Thank you guy's..."I said in between tears. Thomas called for Deceit to take me back to Remus. While walking Deceit asked what happened. I explained how Roman freaked out because of Remus and me doing what we did. Deceit looked at me saying that he might know what's happening."There are times when a side can get a bug, it does NOT mess with how they act. I know there is NOT a cure for it, so I WON'T look for it." He told me leading me to Remus' door. I thanked him and went in. I told Remus what had happened and he was mad. He pulled out a mace and started storming towards the door. I stopped him. "Remus please, don't. You can worry about him later, but I think he broke my wrist, or fractured it." I told him. He stopped and gently grabbed my wrist examining it. "That asshole of a brother fractured your wrist." He said leading me to his bathroom. He started looking in cabinets and pointed to the toilet so I sat down on it. He pulled out a wrap and came over to me. He gently started wrapping my arm and looked at me. "After this, you know I'm going to kill him right?" He asked raising an eyebrow. "Remus, please don't. Just... stay with me, please." I bagged him. "Give me a good reason why." He said. "Because, I need you to check my back and I don't want to be alone..." I said. Remus lifted up the hoodie and looking at my back. "That's bigger then my dick..." He said. "You have a large bruise on your back." He was angry. He carried me to the bed and let me borrow some cloths for pj's. I sunk into his bed and as he tried to walk off I grabbed his wrist. "Aren't you gonna stay with me?" I asked. I didn't want him to hurt Roman with the new info I had gotten. "I'm just going to change, hot cakes." He said. Once he got back he climbed into the bed and held me by my waits as to not hurt my back and touch the bruise. He made sure to be very gentle with my fragile body. "I'm sorry about my brother." He whispered to me. "It's not your fault, so please don't be sorry." I said looking him in his gorgeous eyes. He looked back into mine and kissed me. "Someone has to be sorry for him." He said. I shook my head and tried to move. I had trouble and let a small moan of pain out as my wrist some what bent. "Normally I'd say that your moan is cute, but it's not right now." He said turning onto his back and then putting me on top of him. It was just like when we first slept together. I loved it. "Are...are we a thing now?" I asked him. He took a minute to think about it. "I marked you as mine so yes.I guess you could say our love is the beauty and the beast." He said with a smile. I smiled back and kissed him saying,"More like beauty and the stinky boi." I joked before falling asleep. 9/22/19 published on 9/29/19 It's my birthday! Yaaaay... 15 years of living is not my idea of fun. Oh well! I give you guy's this 5 page, 1996 word, rollercoaster of a chapter! I hope you enjoy it and honestly, I love reading why you guys comment on the book, I always reply unless I don't know what to say. I love you guy's and have a lovely night!

#fanfiction #romance #remus #remus sanders #remus x reader #remus sanders x reader #sanders sides #sanders sides x reader #beauty and the stinky boi

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homiegeesus · 5 years

Text

The Year of Magical Thinking, Ch.1

Summary: Francis Sinclair believed Arthur Morgan had not finished living. In a second chance at life, Arthur discovers what it means to love himself.

At the edge of a precipice and nowhere to run, Arthur concedes defeat. In an extraordinary turn of events, he is sent through the ether to another time where his path crosses with a group not too unlike his own family. After discovering the fate of those he loved before, he races to find a way back. But what if he realizes that there is something worth staying for in this new world? Can two people separated by nearly a hundred and twenty years of living find their happily ever after?

________________________________________________________

So…Super nervous posting this. It’s the first time in a few years that I’ve written anything (the first fandom-centered work I’ve written since like 2005 lmao; Gilmore Girls anybody?) and it shows. But, alas, I’ve been incredibly inspired by RDR2’s story and the way other authors on Tumblr & AO3 have expanded on it. Shit guys, dunno if anybody is even going to read this, but I’ll push it out of the nest and into the world regardless. This may be the stupidest idea ever, but whatever, I’ll let y’all decide. A warning: This is not beta'd, but I reread it like 50 times. Still, I apologize for my terrible grammar. And, yes, I have shamelessly lifted the title from Joan Didion’s fantastic book. It just fit. So. Well. I’m terribly uncreative, so please forgive me Joan. Also, my only knowledge of 1920s-speak comes from F. Scott Fitzgerald, Clara Bow movies and Googling. I don’t know if anybody ever really said ‘old sport’, but what the hell. On another note, there will be a few things taken from the GTA universe, but it's minimal (San Andreas/Liberty City do not exist). I'll be explaining through a secondary character how states in RDR became the modern states that we know. And finally, constructive criticism welcomed and appreciated!! Anyway, here's Wonderwall...

AO3 Link

Warning: This is me working through my “stuff” vicariously through Arthur Morgan and co.

The Year of Magical Thinking

Chapter 1 - Prologue (or A Dream of Arthur Morgan)

Roanoke Valley - 1899 Peace settled over Arthur Morgan like a warm embrace; the rattle in his lungs that had invaded his every waking moment these past few months now a distant feeling. With each labored rise and fall of his chest, drowning in his own blood, he spared but one final thought.

It’s over. It’s finally over and death would soon come for him.

This wasn’t how Arthur had envisioned his death. No, he had always thought he would die with a bullet in his chest and cordite in his lungs. Not at the behest of disease and treachery. Such a shame that wisdom should only come to him on his deathbed. If only…

That’s what it came down to, that’s what it always comes down to. If only, if only, if only, his mind repeated nonstop. Regrets, Arthur had plenty of them. For months, he had been sinking so far in regrets, he could scarcely breathe. What could he have done differently that would have given a better outcome? How had he not seen Dutch’s descent into mania? Arthur supposed that maybe he had seen but chose to ignore, because when had Dutch ever led them astray.

Micah. Arthur had so many regrets about that goddamn snake. Micah had attached to Dutch like a leech and sucked every drop of the very lifeblood of the gang. He had played on all of Dutch’s insecurities and weaknesses. Arthur’s eyes were finally open, for all the good it did him now. But that rat was only one of the last in a long line of regrets he would have in his life. Arthur’s craving for penance started long before Micah came along.

Maybe Arthur himself was the leech, a disease – an infection. Death and pestilence followed him around like an acrid smell. It was something that seeped into his skin, clawed its way inside like a cancer until it reached his soul, the very center of him. Not happy with just him, it carried through the air and infected everything he had ever cared for or loved. His mother, Hosea, Mary, Eliza and –

Isaac. Arthur still had trouble even saying his name, so wrapped up in guilt as he was. During the rare times he found himself alone, thoughts of the little towheaded boy would invade his mind. Being rightly familiar with cowardice, he would press the tips of his fingers to his skull until they felt like ten dull knives, as if to physically rid himself of the painful memories. Of course, this rarely worked and he was resigned to suffer through the punishment he subconsciously forced upon himself. And now, as he laid on the jagged gravel of this cliff, he finally welcomed the comforting mental images of his son.

Feeling the weight of a life lived recklessly lift slowly from his mind, Arthur turned his head towards the setting sun, his final thought being: I gave it all I had.

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Francis Sinclair had one rule:

Don’t mess with the timeline.

It had seemed so easy in its simplicity. In the beginning, that is, until it wasn’t. He hadn’t counted on Arthur Morgan. For a bad man, he sure did a lot of good. Probably more than he realized. When Francis had asked the outlaw to find the futuristic rock carvings, he hadn’t expected Mr. Morgan to deliver. Especially not in a matter of months. Chronos himself probably would have found the task trying.

So, in 1932, when Francis had read about the fate of the Van der Linde Gang in a new hit novel by J. R. Miller, he learned that the coppers had closed in on his ole friend, and well, that just wouldn’t do. He understood that he wouldn’t be able to find Mr. Morgan in the time needed to prevent the most unfortunate aspects of his fate, but he could prevent the ultimate one. What he didn’t expect was to find the man with one arm in a Chicago Overcoat.

Francis pulled the horse-drawn buckboard to a stop in a clearing next to the crag and hopped down. The air was calm and filled with the late evening chatter of the local fauna. He jogged the incline of the rock until a recumbent figure came into his field of view. It wasn’t until he was a few feet away that he noticed the extent of the man’s injuries. His blue shirt stained brown, gone was the desperado’s worn black leather hat, in its place a matte of blood and dirt in his previously honeyed blonde hair. His once handsome face gaunt, his ashen skin a mess of bruises and cuts. One eye was swollen shut, blood trickling down the corner of his mouth. Was he even breathing? Francis was running out of time.

“You’ve a lot more living yet, old sport,” the red-head crouched down and placed two fingers against the outlaw’s throat finding a slow, but steady pulse. “Yes, a lot more.”

Mr. Morgan groaned.

“Come on, we gotta find a way to get ya on your gams, ya follow?” Francis grabbed the man’s arm and tried to pull him into a sitting position. Morgan was having none of that.

“Let me– let me die, damn you,” he wheezed on an exhale.

“No, no you poor little bunny. Can’t do that. Now up you go,” Francis pulled once more, this time succeeding.

In a broken voice, Arthur pleaded, “Goddamnit, jus’ let me alone. ‘M so damn tired.” When he finally raised his head and opened his good eye, a look of recognition passed over his face. “You– “

“Yes, me. Now, let’s scoot. You don’t have much time, Mr. Morgan.” Francis placed the man’s arm over his own shoulders, Arthur allowing himself to be hauled into standing.

Arthur weakly protested, “’M dyin’, Mr. Sinclair. I’m a dead man. Ain’t no use in helpin’ a dead man.”

Francis just laughed and replied with the strain of half-carrying a grown man in his voice, “No, Mr. Morgan. As I said before, you’ve a lot more living left to do. Now, conserve your strength.”

Likely out of exhaustion, the outlaw did not say another word. They barely made it to the buckboard before Arthur collapsed. Just before Morgan would have fallen to his knees, Francis used the momentum to haul the man into the back of the wagon. As Francis grabbed each of the larger man’s legs to swing into the bed, Arthur’s breath rasped in his throat, “Why you doin’ this?”

Francis regarded him for a moment before saying, “Because you helped me get outta a pretty big pickle.” He paused, then smiled, “And because you’re terribly important to a lot of people, baby.” And with that, Francis climbed back up to the seat and flicked the reigns.

___________________________________________________________

Well, shit.

Arthur’s plan to die in peace had been upended by a curious red-haired fellow in a blue sweater. With no energy to ruminate further, he resolved to die in the bed of this damn wagon. As the cart trudged backed to the main road, Arthur’s worn body felt every mound and stone the wheels rolled over. Finally, on a relatively smooth surface, he allowed himself to observe his surroundings. Tall pines and hemlock blurred into each other passing in his periphery as he stared at the spattering of stars visible through dark clouds. The sun had officially set in the last thirty minutes and all that remained a reddish orange hue near the horizon. Above him though, what a sight indeed. Bright stars twinkled along the Milky Way, like God himself spread them with a paintbrush across the sky.

Why had he taken all this for granted? So many nights spent under these same stars, but Arthur never really paid them any mind except for navigation. How many years before the artificial lights of the cities overpowered their natural beauty? Unable to ponder any longer and continue the fight to stay conscious, Arthur resigned to close his eyes and place complete trust in the relative stranger.

What felt like moments later, or hours Arthur was unsure, cold droplets of water forced his good eye open once again. A murmur of thunder rolled in the distance. Mr. Sinclair finally turned around, his voice deafened by the creaking of the wagon and heavy breathing of the horses.

“We are just a minute away. I think we’ll make it before the worst of the storm hits.”

But like an omen fitting of this night, Sinclair was wrong. What began as random drops here and there crescendoed into a torrential downpour. The red-haired fellow should have known that hitching his wagon to the outlaw would herald an abundance of bad luck. Unable to shield himself and too tired to care, Arthur welcomed the deluge as if it would wash him away.

Mr. Sinclair halted the horses and hopped down from the buckboard once more. He appeared in Arthur’s line of sight as he unlatched the tailgate, setting down a lantern and grabbing the larger man’s arms in another tug-of-war to get him sitting. Water poured down his face and converged at his chin.

“We just have to ankle about ten feet to the opening,” Sinclair hollered over the rain. “You ready?”

At this point, Arthur would have conjured up his most intimidating mien but there was no energy for that. “No,” he answered defeated.

Unperturbed, the younger man smiled, “That’s the spirit.”

Grabbing Arthur’s arms, Mr. Sinclair placed one across his shoulders. When he hauled the outlaw into standing position, Arthur’s world tilted. Feeling unable to breathe and so lightheaded, he launched into a series of hacking coughs. Blood splattered against his hand and mixed with the rain, diluting until it turned into a river of pink down his arm. He looked to Sinclair. Wet hair plastered to his forehead; the cold of the rain made the strange man’s curious birthmark stand out all the more against pale skin.

“When you gonna see that I’m already dead?” His weakened voice barely heard above the storm.

The redhead looked at him, “Please, just trust me.”

They began their short journey to wherever it was they were going, walking only yards but feeling like miles. By the time they reached what appeared to be a cave entrance, Arthur’s knees buckled and his vision went black. He would have felt hitting the ground, if he’d been conscious. Coming to seconds later, he became aware of his arms being tugged above his head. Mr. Sinclair was apparently dragging him. Deep down, Arthur briefly admired the man’s grit. However, the sentiment was soon replaced by annoyance and near-agony as the sensation of what felt like an elephant settled atop his chest. In and out of consciousness, Arthur realized they had stopped when Sinclair crossed the threshold to grab the lantern at the mouth of the cave. The red-haired man set the lantern between the outlaw and the cave wall and then perched above his head, grabbing both of his arms by the wrists. Arthur could see the younger man’s mouth moving but could not discern the words, only comprehending ‘listen’ and ‘your hands’.

Sinclair then placed Arthur’s large hands against the cool stone wall. Even in his delirious state, he recognized the carvings he had previously found for the peculiar fellow. He could feel the vibrations of the man’s voice behind him in what felt like a chant, but he still could not determine the words. To Arthur’s astonishment, the outlines in the rock began glowing a mute bluish color. What began as a slight tingling in his fingertips turn into full body experience. Reality dissolved into nothingness and became a pure void. And then –

Everything.

Every single moment in his hard life experienced again but in hundred times the speed. This must be it, Arthur thought. God must be forcing him to relive every chapter of his rotten existence before He banished him to the fiery pits of Hell. Familiar faces began to permeate his view. Arthur tried in vain to reach out at the image of his mother. Beatrice Morgan may have been alive for only a small portion of his life, but he would carry her memory with him forever in the form of a flower at his bedside. Unpleasant memories began to flash as Lyle Morgan pervaded his vision. The son of a bitch had been a vile presence in his young days, a man who Arthur would live in fear of until the moment they finally hanged him. Arrested for larceny, his death hadn’t come soon enough.

And then Hosea appeared, someone Arthur had thought of as more of a father than even Dutch. The man had been convinced by the raven-haired outlaw to take a chance on a scared gangly boy who had just tried to rob their room. Starved and desperate for family, Arthur had latched onto the men soaking up anything they would teach him. And teach him they had.

More memories raced by, and Arthur caught sight of a beautiful brown-haired girl. Mary Gillis, the visage of her still enough to stir his pulse, laughed and blushed like a young woman in love. Even in the inevitability of their parting, Arthur had still carried the hope that they’d one day reunite and ride off into the sunset together. If not for Guarma and the mess that had come from the robbery in St. Denis, that may have been his future. Not the hellfire that awaited his damned soul.

And then, Eliza. A young girl of nineteen, Arthur had found comfort in her embrace in the wake of heartbreak. Intent on forgetting Mary, he foolishly took advantage of a girl’s infatuation and followed her to a room above the saloon where she worked. What had come from the union was a beautiful gift but more a curse. Isaac had his mother’s hair and his father’s eyes. A happy baby from what Eliza had told him. Until a group of transients killed them both over ten dollars. Arthur had just whipped up a tidy sum from some cattle rustling and had set his compass to visit his secret family, fully intent on giving Eliza all of the hard-earned money. What greeted him would harden his heart and set him on a path of wickedness. All he had to see were the two graves to understand what had happened.

Like a moving picture, the entirety of his life played before him. If this was what the devil had in mind for his punishment, it would be a hellish eternity. Forced to relive every mistake and misstep he’d ever made; it was what he deserved. But as the memories neared their end, he began to feel a weightlessness. Every atrocity and sin that had weighed heavy on his shoulders suddenly lifted. Again, everything went black.

But then –

Stars. Billions of them. Clearer than any night sky he’d ever seen. Galaxies and distant worlds powdered his vision like puffs of freshly picked cotton. No longer held under the burden of sickness, he took a deep and easy breath. He hadn’t felt this well in months – no, years. Was this heaven? Could God forgive a lifetime of misdeeds? Arthur may have never been a good man, but he did try to be better – in the end. But, no. He was irredeemable. This was a final punishment. A peek at the peace and serenity that redemption would have gifted, before God cast him from the light.

The answer was seemingly given when an unnatural force dragged him back through the ether. Again, hundreds of images flashed in his sight, but this time the memories didn’t belong to him. Too fast to discern individual frames, he could only pick out one reoccurring subject. A woman with dark blonde hair and a bright smile that formed two apple cheeks. Strangely familiar, his memory told him he didn’t know her, but his subconscious shouted in recognition. Then she was gone and with her the remainder of his vision.

Everything turned to black once more.

#Red dead redemption #Arthur Morgan x oc #rdr2 #arthur morgan #rdr2 fanfic #the year of magical thinking #arthur x oc #red dead redemption 2

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bethhxrmon · 5 years

Text

All I Ask of You Pt. 39

“Is this how I die? Frightened like a child, lazy and numb” - “Dust and Ashes” from Natasha, Pierre, and the Great Comet of 1812

Pairing: Peter Paker x Female OC

Word Count: 4.6k

Summary: Well, it’s infinity war time lol

Warnings: Sads, major character(s) death (it’s infinity war what do you expect)

A/N: Here we are, the last full chapter of the fic! It’s really sad, I cried writing it, but I hope y’all enjoy this. It’s been an insane ride. As always, you can get the full masterlist in my bio!

It was another normal morning. Well, not quite normal since there was a field trip, but it wasn’t like anything crazy was going to happen. Annie was sharing a seat on the bus with Peter, and she was using him as a pillow while she took a nap. The night before had been completely revolutionary. Only because she finally figured out what her audition song was going to be, but that took hours of work. She wasn’t even sure if she was going to patrol that night or not. Maybe she would, if only because Peter would be there.

Right when she was comfortable, however, Peter shifted and caused Annie to knock her head into his collarbone.

“Jesus Christ! What the hell was-” she stopped herself.

Outside the window, there was a huge doughnut-shaped spaceship in the distance. At least, Annie assumed it was a spaceship. Somehow, no one else seemed to notice it. She looked at Peter and she already knew exactly what he was planning on doing. There was that look of determination in his eyes that he only seemed to get whenever there was something that was clearly dangerous happening.

Annie leaned over and whispered, “I’m coming too.”

“What?! No way.”

“Yes way, we’re a team, remember?” she pointed out, “You don’t just get to pick and choose that.”

Peter sighed before nodding, “Fine, you’re right.”

He then turned behind him to get Ned to cause a distraction. Annie made a mental note to get a hold of Harper in case they hadn’t seen. How no one else was seeing this amazed her. Still, she shook the thought away and made a mental plan of how to get out of the bus without anyone seeing.

“We’re all gonna die!” Ned shouted.

Right as everyone rushed over to the side they were sitting on, Annie pulled Peter over to the other side, and he shot a web to get them out of the bus through the open window in the back. It would have been so easy to catch both of them, but if no one say the spaceship then she guessed it didn’t make much of a difference.

Before she knew it, they were in their suits and headed straight for the spaceship. Even though everything inside of her was screaming to just stay there. She ignored the thought, there was no way she was letting Peter just go by himself if she had any say in it. And she did.

As she followed him, gliding, she sighed, “Hey, Eve, can you do me a solid?”

“Of course, what is it?”

“Can you call Harper real fast?”

“Yes, dialing ‘my idiot best friend’.”

Annie kept going as she heard the dial tone before there was a click, “Dude are you seeing this?!”

“That’s what I was calling you about. I’m headed right there,” Annie said.

Harper sighed, “I figured… just, be careful, okay? Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll be smart about it. I’m good with this type of stuff, and I’ll look great while doing it.”

“Whatever you say…” they trailed off.

Right then, a huge alien-looking thing almost hit her, “Okay, super sorry, Harper, but I gotta go there’s a big alien thing, love you, bye!”

Just like that, Annie was thrust into fighting some aliens that she knew nothing about. But they were giving her a lot of energy to work with, so she wasn’t complaining. She was just barely listening to what Peter and Tony were talking about, though she couldn’t remember when he showed up. Not that the fact he was there surprised her.

“Yeah, I want you kids to protect the wizard,” he said, gesturing to another alien that was a little bit away.

It caught Annie’s attention, “Wait, what wizard?”

“The one over there, don’t let them get the necklace,” Tony told her, “Good luck!”

Annie sighed, rushing over with Peter. When she got a second glance, she gasped. That was the wizard. The same guy who kind of saved her life. She would have to ask about everything later, there wasn’t any time to focus on anything but what they were supposed to do.

Peter shot a web at the wizard, and Annie used an energy barrier to keep him where he was. However, whatever the alien was using seemed to add more energy at a faster rate than she could take. They were losing ground, literally. Annie felt herself being lifted up off the ground. If Peter wasn’t going to let go then that meant they were headed straight for the spaceship.

“Peter, what do I do?!” Annie yelled, feeling her heart rate pick up and her hands grow shaky the further up she was lifted without anything below her.

He quickly grabbed her hand, giving her just a bit more confidence, “Hey, Mr. Stark, we’re getting beamed up.”

“Seriously? You make a Star Trek reference now?” Annie asked, rolling her eyes.

If nothing else, it managed to keep her from freaking out. Although, she was beginning to realize that she couldn’t breathe as well. Almost as soon as there was a piece of the ship for her to hold onto, the air seemed to get thinner. She couldn’t quite hear what Peter and Tony were talking about. But there was energy. Maybe it wouldn’t work but it was worth a shot. She created a barrier of energy around her face. It wasn’t the best way to breathe, but it gave her something.

That was when she looked up at Peter, “Did you get a costume change or something?”

“Um… you could say that. Come on, um… let’s get back,” he said, looking like he was about to drop off.

Annie looked at him, “Cut the crap, Peter, you just don’t want me going up to space with you. I get it. But I’m a big girl, and I can handle this.”

“Ann, we gotta go back.”

“You’re not gonna leave him here. I know that. Besides, I have a few words for that wizard dude. He has a ton of explaining to do.”

Once it was obvious that he wasn’t going to lose Annie any time soon, Peter started to look for a different entrance into the ship. Annie was more focused on keeping her energy barrier intact. If she lost concentration, she’d probably die. After a few moments, Peter found a way in, sneaking Annie inside as well.

It was about what she would have expected for an alien spaceship. She looked around, but it seemed like Peter was losing his mind over the tech. If the situation didn’t feel like it was going to affect the fate of the world, she probably would have let him look around a bit more.

“Come on, we gotta find them,” she whispered, pulling him further into the ship.

Peter frowned, “Why are we whispering.”

“In case there’s any more aliens. Stay on guard,” she told him, making sure that she could feel the energy and electricity coursing through the ship.

First, Annie saw the wizard and the alien. It looked like the wizard was being tortured, and it wasn’t looking too good. She didn’t know what was in the necklace, but she could see it was glowing. Quickly, she pulled Peter down with her so they wouldn’t be seen by the alien. That was when she heard it.

“...loyal piece of clothing,” Tony mumbled.

Peter jumped down, “Speaking of loyal-”

“What’re you doing is… Annie too?”

Annie sighed, hopping down, using the energy to make her land quietly, “Yeah.”

Tony looked between the both of them. The last time she saw him look at them with such irritation and moderate anger was after they nearly blew up the lab back at Lake Tahoe. Maybe they should have gone back to Earth.

“H-hey, I can explain,” Peter stammered, his eyes darting from Annie to Tony.

Tony looked at Peter, “Really? Do either of you realize what this is? You guys aren’t just going on a field trip to space. This is a one-way ticket-”

“Yeah, yeah I-I get that, but… the drop was too far down to really take Annie with me properly, a-and then the suit ended up landing on the ship and she was still there. I-I mean, you were still here too and the suit’s pretty intuitive, Sir, a-and so I guess it’s kinda your fault I’m here,” Peter paused.

Annie covered her mouth to keep herself from laughing out of shock. Then she elbowed Peter. What in the world was that boy thinking?

“Um… not that it’s my fault but um-”

Tony glared at both of them, “There’s no way in hell you guys thought this through.”

“I did,” they both said in unison. Annie raised an eyebrow, but nodded at Peter to go first.

Peter sighed, “W-well, you can’t be a neighborhood friendly Spider-Man if there’s no neighborhood… okay, that didn’t really make sense, but you know what I meant.”

Tony rolled his eyes, “Okay, what’s your excuse.”

“There’s a few. One, did you really think I was gonna just let Peter stay in space and spend all my time worrying about him like an idiot? And two, I never really made up for everything… you know, Tina and Carnival were kinda my fault and I never really solved either of those problems,” she said, shrugging.

Tony sighed, “Okay, fine, look down there, that’s the wizard, what do you guys do?”

Right as Annie was about to suggest a plan, Peter cut in, “Have either of you guys seen this really old movie, Aliens?”

The plan he came up with was better than anything Annie had in mind and Tony seemed convinced, so that was what they went with. Annie was in her position. She had to be backup and make sure the alien was the only one who went through the hole. So far, the alien wasn’t facing them and the wizard didn’t even know they were there.

That was when Tony started speaking to the alien. Now that she thought about it, the guy kind of looked like Squidward, but that wasn’t important. What was important was paying attention to what was happening, but the alien was so full of himself.

“My powers are far more superior,” the alien said, stepping towards Tony.

Annie rolled her eyes before muttering under her breath, “Bet.”

“Maybe, but the kid’s seen more movies,” Tony responded.

That was the signal, and Annie jumped right into action, not even hearing the blast as she made the knives around the wizard move away. Then came the harder part, there was so much energy that it almost felt like her powers were on high alert. She moved to pull everyone back by reversing the energy. What she never bothered to consider was that she was just some teenager literally going up against the cold, dark void that was space.

Though, everything ended up being just fine, and Tony patched up the hole. So she went right up to the wizard.

“I need to talk to you,” she said, crossing her arms.

The wizard nodded slowly, “I don’t need to talk to you. Now, are we going back to Earth?”

“The ship’s on autopilot and headed straight for Titan,” Tony said, looking at the screens.

He shook his head, “We cannot take the time stone to Thanos. Not under any circumstances.”

That seemed to send Tony into a raving rage. He started to go on about how he was going to fight Thanos. As soon as he mentioned Thanos being in his head for years, Peter and Annie exchanged glances.

Annie frowned, “Did he ever-”

Peter shook his head.

“Now we’re stranded thousands of miles away from Earth with no backup!”

“Um… we’re backup,” Peter interjected.

Tony looked at the pair again, “No. You’re both stowaways.”

“Okay wait, who are they? Are they your wards or something?” asked the wizard.

“I’m Peter actually-”

“Doctor Strange.”

Peter gasped, “Oh, we’re using our made up names! I’m Spider-Man.”

“Um… I’m Annie, or White Swan. Whatever works.”

The wizard, or Dr. Strange, went right back to Tony, “Look, we can go to Thanos, but if it comes down to it being between you, the boy, the girl, or the time stone. I’m choosing the time stone.”

“Right, good to know that you have a moral compass,” he commented before going up to Annie and Peter to mockingly dub them, “Congrats, you’re both Avengers now.”

With that, they were all kind of left to their own devices. It was the perfect time to finally get some answers for questions that had been in Annie’s mind for months. This time, she didn’t hesitate to go right up to the man.

“So… what’s up, Doc?” Annie asked, taking off her mask so it hung around her neck.

Dr. Strange rolled his eyes, “Very original. What do you want?”

“Answers, lots of answers. And if you’re gonna choose a piece of jewelry over me, then this is the least you can do.”

He scoffed, “This is not a piece of jewelry, this is the time stone. One of the six infinity stones. It literally controls time as we know it.”

“Okay, okay, whatever, I have a question or two for that too then… but I’m starting from the top. Where were you when Carnival was in Seattle? Because I was facing off against him on my own. Do you get that? I was barely even fifteen at the time-”

“That was your choice.”

“Because I have powers! So answer the damn question, where were you?” she asked, frowning.

He shook his head, “I barely even knew what I was doing at that time. I’m not sure if I was even in charge of the Sanctum at the time.”

“Right… okay, and that time stone thingy… actually, I can answer this one myself,” Annie paused, starting to see if she could take any energy from the time stone.

At first, Annie felt fine and she could see that her hands were glowing green and it was starting to travel up her veins. Then it took more effort, but then she fell to the floor, feeling dizzy.

The man sighed, “It’s an infinity stone. No one can just sap all the energy out of one of those things. Though, you might be able to.”

“Well I’m not your average person,” Annie said, pushing herself to stand back up, “That kinda made me feel sick, though.”

He looked at her, “How badly do you want to save the universe?”

“Um… pretty badly. Kinda the only way I can make up for… never mind, you wouldn’t care about that. What’re you on about?”

“It’s possible that if you sapped out all the energy of the stones… Thanos wouldn’t be able to complete his goal. But it would almost definitely kill you, and that’s if it worked. It might not.”

Annie looked at him, “But I could save the universe… you, Stark, Peter, everyone back home, they’d be okay?”

“If he’s defeated, yes.”

She nodded slowly, “I’ll keep that in mind.”

Before she knew it, they were headed right towards a planet. Probably the place they were going to meet Thanos. She had no clue what the guy looked like, but she was pretty sure that she knew what she’d have to do. First, they needed to land without dying.

“You gonna help your… boyfriend?” Dr. Strange asked.

Annie shook her head, “Nah, he’s basically a genius. I’m just damage control.”

“Nah, as in he isn’t your boyfriend, or nah, as in you’re not helping.”

She laughed, “Nah as in I’m not helping. Peter’s freaking great. You might not wanna protect him, but I do.”

There wasn’t much more time for talking as they started to his a rocky landing. Annie put up a barrier to protect the four of them, and it seemed like Dr. Strange was right on the same page as her. If they all got through this, she’d probably ask him how he managed to do it.

“Hey, guys, for the record, um… I’m really sorry if an alien comes and puts her eggs in me,” Peter mumbled, hanging upside down.

Tony looked at Peter, “You, I don’t want another pop-culture reference out of you for the rest of the trip.”

“Um… what I’m trying to say is something’s coming.”

That was when a group of complete strangers flooded the scene. They were under attack, and Annie was quick to block a hulking, blue man. She pushed him back, and ran off. No one else seemed to have any powers like she did, so she wasn’t too worried for herself. But she took her eyes off of everyone else and she suddenly saw Peter had a gun to his head.

“I swear if you even think about shooting him, I’ll electrocute you until you’re fried to a damn crisp,” Annie growled.

Tony sighed, “If you shoot my guy, I’m gonna shoot your guy.”

“Go for it, I can take it,” said the blue man.

An alien who looked like a cross between a praying mantis and a lady cried out, “Don’t, he can’t take it!”

“You’re right, he can’t,” Dr. Strange agreed.

The man pointing the gun at Peter removed his mask, “Look, I’m only gonna ask you one question. Where is Gamora?”

Tony took off his mask, “I’ll do you one better. Who is Gamora?”

“I’ll do you one better! Why is Gamora?” the blue man asked.

Then the man started blabbering on about Thanos, and Annie was still watching carefully in case something happened.

“Wait, what master do you serve?” Dr. Strange asked.

The man scoffed, “What am I supposed to say, Jesus?”

“So he’s from Earth,” Tony remarked.

He sighed, “I’m from Missouri.”

“That’s on Earth, you dipshit.”

The man shook his head, “Wait, who are you guys?”

Peter took off his mask, “We’re the Avengers, man!”

With that, they all quickly realized they were on the same side. At least, they weren’t serving Thanos in any sort of way. So that meant they would be able to team up. Maybe she wouldn’t have to do anything that would potentially kill her.

They were standing around, and Tony was attempting to come up with a plan, and Annie was mentally making the note to do what Dr. Strange suggested. Well, he never suggested it, but all the same she never would have tried it if he hadn’t mentioned it.

“Is that guy really yawning?” Tony asked incredulously.

The man, who she learned was Quill gave a shrug, “They’re not used to making plans. We’re more of the winging it type.”

“We are not winging it with Thanos.”

Peter looked over at the other two, “What do those guys even do anyways?”

“Kick names, take ass,” the lady replied.

“There was the dance-off to save the universe,” the blue man added.

Peter furrowed his eyebrows, “Like in Footloose?”

“Exactly like in Footloose! Is it still the best movie ever made?” Quill asked.

“Um… it never was.”

Annie laughed, “Mamma Mia was, like, a gazillion times better.”

“The hell is Mamma Mia?”

She gasped, “It’s a jukebox musical, it’s got a ton of ABBA-”

“Wait, what?! That’s how much changed?”

“I guess so, anyways, you gotta listen to it and watch it, it’s a freaking masterpiece-”

“We’re not letting Flash Gordon get you wrapped up in musicals.”

The other alien lady looked over at Dr. Strange, “Does your friend do that often?”

Tony approached the wizard, and he sighed, “I was looking into all the alternative futures.”

“How many were there?”

“Fourteen million six-hundred-five.”

“How many did we win?’

“One.”

The word cut through Annie’s heart like a knife. There was only one shot, and it had to be the one where she sacrificed herself. That had to be the only way, she bit her lip in thought. She quickly held Peter’s hand. If she didn’t do this, then none of them were going to win. She had to do this.

Annie kept that in her mind as they went over the plan time and time again. Dr. Strange never spoke to her about the energies again, and she wondered if that meant she was just supposed to do this. And before she could really consider the weight of what she had to do, she was hiding behind wreckage with Peter.

“I love you, you know that, right?” Annie asked softly. Peter nodded, “Yeah, of course. I love you too. We’re gonna get through this, alright? I don’t know when we’ll get home, but we’ll get back in time for your audition next month for sure. We can take a few days off from all this. We could go see one of your musicals or something-”

She cut him off with a quick kiss when she heard another ship land, “That would be lovely,” she whispered.

It took everything she had in her to not let the tears stinging at her eyes fall. She couldn’t. Then he would know what she had in mind, and he’d try to stop her. But this was the only chance they had. He’d get over her, right? He had to.

She was lurched right into battle when she was the least prepared for it, and she attacked Thanos head on. Except, he wasn’t interested in her. That was fine by her, the less he noticed her the better. She wanted to make sure everyone stayed safe. Peter seemed to be having a great time until Thanos grabbed him by the neck and smashed him into the ground.

“That’s my boyfriend, you artificial grape-colored nut sack!” Annie screamed, letting out one of the largest bursts of energy she could manage.

Quill couldn’t help laughing, “You definitely lucked out. She’s a keeper.”

Annie then focused on the gauntlet. She didn’t want to just start off by killing herself. Not when there was the tiniest chance that it was unnecessary. Instead, she focused all the energy of the planet into that one gauntlet.

Things were starting to look decent enough. She could audition, and maybe, just maybe, she could even make it to her therapy appointment that was supposed to have been that day. Once the gauntlet was off, they could figure it all out from there.

Someone landed in a ship, but Annie wasn’t about to worry about who was there. She needed to focus on this, and they were starting to make a lot of headway on it.

The person who landed started asking around about Gamora. Annie really wondered just who in the world Gamora was. Probably someone important because as soon as the person who landed accused Thanos of murdering Gamora, Quill got a very specific look in his eyes.

“Hey, Quill, look, you need to keep your cool, come on, we’ve almost got this thing off,” Tony pleaded.

It wasn’t any use, Quill started to punch Thanos and yell at him. She looked at the man, shaking her head, there wasn’t anything she could do to stop him. So when Thanos was snapped out of his trance, they were all flung to the side. She noticed Peter caught the alien lady, and her energy broke her fall.

They were all together within minutes. Except for Dr. Strange and Tony. She knew what that meant and she felt tears stinging her eyes.

“Hey, I-I know this doesn’t look good, but it’ll be okay,” Peter told her, pulling her in for a hug.

Annie hugged him back tightly, “You’re right. It’ll be okay, you’ll be okay,” she paused for a few moments before kissing him, “I love you.”

“A-are you sure you’re okay?”

She nodded, “Yeah, I’m positive, and you’re gonna be okay. Just trust me.”

Then she pushed him back before rushing off. She kept everyone else back just to give her a head start. When she got to where the main battle had been. Tony had something stabbed into his chest. There was no way he was going to survive that, but she needed to do this. Peter still had his aunt and Ned and Harper and everyone else. So she fixed her eyes on the purple stone in Thanos’s gauntlet. She started to pull the energy, and she knew that Dr. Strange and Thanos were too busy talking to notice. It started off and she was okay. She actually felt a pretty big surge of power, but she could only take so much. It was starting to feel like she was going to throw up. Everything was starting to spin, and she didn’t feel quite right. She refused to let go. This was something she had to do, and if she didn’t then more people were going to be hurt.

Peter would forgive her for doing this, right? He would have to. Maybe someday he would understand.

Right as she started to feel herself black out, she was shoved down. She could barely move, but she could have sworn she saw Thanos standing over her.

“Clever, but not quite enough,” Thanos said, turning back to Dr. Strange.

She watched him with the time stone, and she couldn’t quite make out what Quill was doing. Thanos was done before anything else could happen.

“What the fuck?!” Annie exclaimed, “Y-you said that I could-”

“That wasn’t part of the plan,” Dr. Strange said, “I never said it would work for sure.”

“But that was the only shot we had!” she cried.

He shook his head, “You should stick with your boyfriend.”

Almost like he heard, Peter made it to her, “You… what did you do?”

“N-nothing you need to worry about.”

“You were gonna sacrifice yourself, weren’t you? Annie, you don’t have to kill yourself to make up for everything,” Peter snapped, his eyes filled with hurt.

Annie buried her face in her hands, “It was supposed to work. You would’ve been okay, everyone would’ve been okay.”

“We can still be okay, come here,” Peter held her in his arms, stroking her hair, “I never would’ve forgiven myself if you died like that.”

“Yes you would’ve, it’s what I wanted,” she said, burying her face in the crook of his neck.

He sighed, “I don’t know how I would’ve done it, though.”

“That’s not what matters. I know you, you’d be fine.”

Peter tilted her face up, “You really don’t realize just how important you are.”

“Obviously I do or I wouldn’t have… you know.”

He sighed, helping her up, “Let’s go see the others.”

“I’m still pissed at that Quill guy.”

Peter laughed dryly, “I’m sure you are.”

It was right as they started to get back that it happened. First it was the alien lady, then it was the blue man. Quill was next. Annie saw Dr. Strange fade away too.

That was when she literally felt energy slipping from her, “Peter!”

He turned to her with wide eyes. Annie was trying to keep herself together, literally. She was barely forcing herself to stay together.

“Hey, hey, you’re gonna be fine. W-we’ll get home, a-and you can audition for your musical. W-we need to have that Harry Potter marathon still-”

“Peter, I love you so, s-so much. P-please tell me you know that,” she felt herself still fading to the point she couldn’t speak without losing concentration.

He nodded, tears falling from his eyes, “O-of course, I know that. I love you too, so much. But you have to let go, Annie. I love you, but you need to let go now.”

Annie looked at him and shook her head, but he kissed her forehead, “Please, you can’t keep doing this.”

And with that, she fell into a pile of ash. There were a few reasons Peter wanted her to let go. The main reason was because if she stayed for another few moments she would’ve heard what he said next.

“Mr. Stark, I don’t feel so good.”

Tag List (ask if you wanna be added for future works/ the sequel): @flushings-here / @moonstruckholland / @gaypanda / @twilightparker / @parkerpuff / @ironmaxn / @lcy-thot / @lionsfandomsandbearsohmy / @ijustdontknowsometimes / @dolphinsarecuteandstuff

#peter parker #peter parker imagine #peter parker x reader #peter parker x you #peter parker x oc #spider-man #spider-man x oc #spider-man x reader #spider-man: homecoming #spider-man: far from home #mcu #mcu fanfic #marvel #marvel spiderman #fanfiction #all i ask of you fic

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