#she is getting teased mercilessly’ so i picked myself up and went to class

[fingertipsmp3]

Standing at my window and I see two people out on the street staring at me….. Is this going to become sort of fucking The Strangers type of situation

[atomicstrawbrys]

We Need to Talk

Summary: Alfred’s girlfriend isn’t usually one for cryptic messages. So, when he gets a text that they need to have a ‘talk,’ he can’t help but worry. USUK. //

Alfred, we need to talk.

That was the only text message that Alfred’s girlfriend, Alice, sent him. He gulped as he read it, running a hand through his hair as he wondered what it could mean. He didn’t think he’d done anything wrong recently, and besides, when he messed up Alice was usually a lot more open about it, and they talked it through. Cryptic messages definitely weren’t her style, but, hell, that just made Alfred more nervous.

Though they were in their college years now, Alfred had met Alice when they were thirteen. A new student from another country, well, Alice got all the attention, with her fancy accent and her prim and proper clothes and demeanor. Not all of it was good attention- she was teased mercilessly by some, but she gave as good as she got. And honestly, that was what had drawn Alfred to her. She was composed, sure, but there was a fire burning in those eyes that was more than ready to flare up against anyone that would do her harm. She was smart, sharp, and witty, but also gentle and kind, and on her birthday, she brought in cupcakes she’d made herself. And god, they were delicious.

Alfred’s quiet admiration had turned into a soft infatuation once they got into high school. Everything Alice did was amazing, and he didn’t care what anyone else thought. People whispered when she switched out tartan dresses and white blouses for baggy jeans and hoodies, and they stared when she came into school with her hair cut to the base of her neck rather than in a long, flowing ponytail or braid. But to be honest, Alfred didn’t give an ounce of care to what she looked like- she was always gorgeous, as long as her eyes remained a sharp, refreshing lime green, as long as she snorted when she laughed, and as long as her blush brought out her face full of freckles.

Alfred went to prom with her in junior year. He’d planned out a big love confession, with roses and sparklers and confetti and anything his Hollywood-saturated brain could think of. But, one day Alice simply turned to him, looked him over, and said “Hey, do you want to go to prom with me?” and Alfred had melted.

Now, years later, they were still going steady. They’d dated leading up to and after junior prom, and they stayed together throughout high school and their freshman year of college. Every day spent with Alice was like being in Eden- everything she said and did commanded his attention, and as far as Alfred was concerned, she had hung the sun and the moon and all the stars in the sky.

And, evidently, she wanted to have a talk. Nervously, he tacked his message out on his phone’s keyboard. He sent it, adding a little smiley face to try and diffuse the tension he felt through the screen.

Sure thing, baby! :) Is everything okay?

He got a response right away.

That will depend on you. I’ll be at your apartment tonight.

Mysteries, mysteries...whatever this was, Alice wasn’t ready to divulge it just yet. Alfred’s stomach was doing flips, and it was hard not to think of the worst possible outcome. Alice wasn’t going to break up with him...right? Of course, he wouldn’t stop her, he’d never do anything to hurt her, but...he thought they were happy. She told him she loved him every day, they laughed and joked around and could sit comfortably in perfect silence for hours- not that that happened often, since Alfred was by his own admission a chatterbox. Still, she loved listening to him, and would actually pay attention and ask questions when he launched into his long and aimless tangents about everything that happened in his day. Had he been annoying her? This whole time? She’d have said something, wouldn’t she?

Alfred spent the afternoon as a bundle of nerves, the only thing on his mind being the ominous message sitting in his pocket. He felt as if he were falling, whilst simultaneously being crushed by stones. He was distracted in his classes, and though he was usually a dutiful note-taker, (Alice wasn’t the only one with good grades), he found himself staring blankly at his professors and not absorbing a word they said. This would give him a hell of a time doing the chapter quizzes later in the week, but today, the only thing that mattered was figuring things out with his girlfriend.

When he got to his apartment, Alice was waiting outside. She was so beautiful, just like always- short, cropped hair, flattened chest covered by a green sweater, brown slacks and matching penny loafers...she looked up at him, and Alfred could tell she’d been crying, the telltale red rings around her eyes being the only indication he needed. “Oh, baby…” He murmured, face crumpling as he approached her. “Whatever happened, I am so sorry, okay? Did something happen? Is it my fault?” Alice cleared her throat and gestured towards the door. “Alfred- I’d rather speak about this inside.” “Oh! Oh, right, of course, sorry,” Alfred fished his house key out of his jacket pocket, fumbling with it and unlocking his door after a couple tries. He placed a hand on Alice’s back, gently guiding her in. “Do you want tea?” He looked to her, eyes big and pleading for some kind of reassurance that things were okay. He didn’t get it, though. Alice’s face didn’t betray anything about why she’d come, and other than shaking her head to refuse the tea, it didn’t change. “Alfred,” She began, slowly. “I love you so, so much.” She took his hand, gaze cast down as she blinked quickly. “I hope I’ve made that quite clear over the years we’ve seen each other.” Alfred just nodded and squeezed her hand. He could be unobservant, but even he could tell that the air was heavy, and it was Alice’s time to speak. “What I need to tell you- it’s scary, because I’m afraid I may lose you if I say it, and I don’t ever want to lose you. But I need to make myself happy too, you know?” She looked up at him, sniffing and shaking her head, her bangs falling over her eyes. “You’re a wonderful man. And...I should have told you sooner, probably, but I just kept thinking you’d just get it eventually- I realize that was naive of me, ha, you’re not stupid in the slightest but you are dense, my Love.” She let out a hoarse chuckle, one that made Alfred nervous. It was the sad sort of laugh- one someone might do when they were getting ready to say goodbye. “Alice..” He started, but she cut him off. She looked up at him, meeting his eyes, and although she was nervous when she spoke, her voice didn’t tremble. “No, Alfred. My name is Arthur.”

Oh. Oh.

And suddenly, it clicked. Little things that really should have tipped him off, but didn’t because Arthur was right, he was dense, denser than lead- he should have noticed the day he’d seen Arthur in his binder, but god, he’d thought it was a compression tank for sports. He should have noticed when their teachers referred to Arthur as ‘he,’ and he never corrected them. He should have noticed it when Arthur absolutely beamed the day a stranger referred to him as ‘young man.’ And then, as Alfred floated back to the present, he realized Arthur was still talking.

“-And I know, Al, that you’ll always respect who I am, but I also realize that you’re attracted to women and I’m, well, not one. While I love you to death and I want to stay together more than anything, I realize that you might not be able to reciprocate that and I want you to know that I’m not going to be upset at you if you choose to break up with me-” He was talking a mile a minute, nervous and wringing his hands in the absolutely adorable way he always did when he was unsure of something but wanted it badly. 

Laughing, Alfred scooped up his boyfriend, swinging him around like a doll. “Break up with you? Baby, I thought you were gonna break up with me!” He pressed a wet kiss to Arthur’s cheek, and hugged him close, nosing against his hair.

“So...we are staying together?” Arthur replied, arching his brow with a small, hopeful smile gracing his lips. Alfred kissed him, chuckling. “‘Course we are. Artie, you should know by now that I’m gonna love you no matter who you are.” Then, Alfred’s grin turned bashful, and he set Arthur down so he could rub the back of his neck. “I’m sorry, though, for not pickin’ up on it before.”

Arthur laughed as well, and gave a cute little snort, shaking his head. “I’ve been dating you long enough to know that subtlety isn’t always your strong suit. I’m not that surprised, to be honest.” He held out his arms, a silent request for Alfred to pick him up again. Alfred obliged.

Arthur nuzzled against his neck, and gently kissed the skin under his jaw. “I am pleased, though, that you’ve handled it well. You seem happy, at least.” “Of course I’m happy,” Alfred replied, turning his head to kiss Arthur’s brow. “I just found out that I’m dating the cutest guy in the whole world.”

[katymacsupernatural]

Long Distance

Dean Winchester x Reader (Written in Dean’s POV)

1300 Words

Written For: @spngenrebingo

Square Filled: Long Distance Relationship

Story Summary: Dean keeps a budding relationship hidden from Sam)

Warnings: None

“What?” Sam asked, smiling at the goofy look that was no doubt on my face. I quickly tucked my phone away, turning my attention back to my laptop, but I couldn’t stop smiling. 

I had tried so hard to hide it from Sam. In the back of my mind, I knew he would be happy for me, but it was my secret. At least for now. 

“Dean, I can tell something’s up. Come on, tell me,” he continued to prod, shutting my laptop and forcing my attention on him.

“Nope, not gonna tell,” I insisted, standing up and slapping him on the back. “Some things I just need to keep to myself.”

Humming as I walked away, I pulled out my phone, my smile wide as I noticed the message pop up.

Two weeks later I could hear my phone dine with a message, but I was in the kitchen and it was on the map table. Leaving the makings of an epic sandwich, I raced down the hallway, reaching for my phone just as Sam’s hand landed on it. “My phone,” I grumbled, pulling it away from him. He stepped back, throwing his hands up. 

“Dude, I wasn’t trying to snoop. It went off, I was going to bring it to you,” he explained. “Thought it might be about a case.”

I protectively tucked my phone back in my pocket before heading back to the kitchen. As soon as I was out of view of Sam, I pulled it out, clicking on the messages. 

So attuned to what I was replying, I didn’t notice that Sam had crept into the kitchen and was standing directly behind me. “A girl?” He spoke up, startling me so much the phone slipped from my fingers, landing right in the mustard on my sandwich.

“Damn it, Sammy,” I grumbled, picking my phone up and carefully wiping it off. “You know I hate it when you look over my shoulder.”

He didn’t even seem taken back by my annoyance. “So, you’re texting a girl. That’s why you’ve been in such a good mood lately. Tell me about her.”

It wasn’t anything against Sam, but I didn’t want to talk about her. Things were going great right now, and I didn’t want to ruin it. “Not right now,” I started to say, reaching for my sandwich, but Sam reached out, stopping me.

“No, please. I want to hear about the girl who’s made my brother happier than I’ve seen him in a long time,” Sam insisted, sitting down at the table, picking a spare pickle from the edge of my plate. “So, spill.”

Sighing, I sank down on the stool, my sandwich taunting me. “We met playing words with friends,” I started, knowing that Sam would no doubt tease me mercilessly for it. “We played against each other, and then started talking. That’s it, I swear.”

“I don’t think that’s it,” he answered. “But I’m glad. I just hope she knows the real Dean, and not the one you like to portray online.”

I picked up my sandwich and stood up. “How do you know how I act online?”

“You’re my brother. I know you,” he chuckled. “So, when are you going to meet her?”

I hadn’t even thought of that. We’ve had so much fun talking, but neither of us had mentioned meeting face to face. Yet. The thought had me wondering about the possibilities. “I mean, I haven’t officially mentioned that I kill things that go bump in the night. But we haven’t even mentioned meeting yet.”

“Well, good for you,” he said as I left the kitchen just as my phone buzzed once again.

It wasn’t even 24 hours later Sam and I were packing up for a hunt. Throwing my duffel bag in the back seat, I couldn’t help but notice the slight tickle of butterflies in my stomach. This hunt, probably a simple vengeful spirit, was a simple walk in the park. But it was only twenty minutes from Y/N, and that’s what was driving me crazy.

I had already mentioned I would be up that way, slightly hinting that maybe we could meet up. She had answered right away, her text excited and asking for a place to meet. In a great mood, I turned up the music loud, ignoring the look Sam sent my way as I hummed along. 

It was a three-hour road trip, and my good mood never slipped up as we headed closer to the hunt, and to Y/N. 

“So, you’re in an awfully good mood,” Sam said when I switched tapes. “What’s up?”

Picking a random tape from the glovebox, I shrugged. “Can’t I be in a good mood?”

“Sure. But this is different,” he insisted. “Are you going to meet up with her?”

“How did you know?”

I turned to face him just in time to see his eyes rolling. “Dean, you’ve been like an open book lately. Happy. Always checking your phone. You were packed and ready to go on this hunt before the words even left my mouth. So, are you meeting her?”

I nodded. “Yeah. She lives the town over, and she agreed to meet for pie.”

Sam was smiling at me, and it was a relief that he seemed happy for me. While my nerves were driving me crazy as the meeting time grew closer. “I’ve never seen you this giddy over a girl before. It’s kind of refreshing.”

“Shut up,” I muttered. “Let’s just get this hunt over with.”

Three days later I was picking ghoul bits out of my hair, impatiently tapping on the side of the Impala as I waited for Sam to finish cleaning up. My phone laid heavy in my pocket. I was ready to text her, see when we could meet up. But I knew I needed a shower before I got even close to her.

“Sam!” I called out, impatiently trying to get him to hurry up. My phone dinged in my pocket, and I quickly pulled it out, smiling widely, my heart suddenly racing. I felt like a high school boy again, waiting between classes to catch a glimpse of the girl I had a crush on. But this girl I had never met, and I was truly petrified. 

“You look like the ghoul I just burned,” Sam chuckled, wiping his hands on his jeans, finally done. “Did she cancel?”

“The opposite,” I gulped. “She’s ready, hoping we can meet in an hour. An hour Sam!” My voice went an octave higher. “Am I really ready for this?” 

Sam chuckled, “Dean, you’ve been so excited for weeks now. Just suck it up and go meet this girl.”

I nodded, sliding behind the steering wheel, trying to calm my beating heart.

Within ten minutes I was clean from the shower, trying to decide between two flannel shirts when Sam took the control, pulling one out of my hand. “That one,” he insisted. “And maybe a new t-shirt while you’re at it.”

I sniffed my shirt, and had to agree. Quickly throwing off the t-shirt, I took the one he handed me. Patting me on the back, he pushed me through the door. “Go knock her socks off.” 

It was a twenty minute drive to the small little cafe she had suggested, and I gave myself a pep talk the entire way over. “Dean, you’ve got this,” I kept insisting. “You’ve been talking with her for weeks now. She knows you.”

Pulling Baby into the parking lot, I glanced through the window, seeing an old couple in one booth. Another couple sat at the bar. But it was the woman at the the far window that had me mesmerized. All negative thoughts fled my mind as I stepped through the door. She glanced up at me, smiling wide and I knew everything was going to be perfect.

Dean/Jensen Tags: @acortez82 @acreativelydifferentlove @adoptdontshoppets @a-girl-who-loves-disney @akshi8278   @bi-danvers0  @cap-just-said-language @colette2537   @deansgirl215  @flamencodiva @hamiltrash1411 @its-not-a-tulpa @jerkbitchidjitassbutt @justanotherwinchester @just-another-winchester @karouwinchester @keikoraventeller  @krys198478 @librarygeekery @magssteenkamp @misspygmypie @mlovesstories @mrsambroserollinsacklesmgk  @mrspeacem1nusone @nothinbuttrouble2 @ria132love @ruprecht0420  @screechingartisancashbailiff   @sortaathief @superseejay721517 @squirrelnotsam @team-free-will-you-idjiot @thing-you-do-with-that-thing @torn-and-frayed @tricksterdean @wonderfulworldofwinchester @woodworthti666

Forever Tags:  @aditimukul @alexwinchester23 @algud @amanda-teaches @andreaaalove   @artisticpoet @atc74 @be-amaziing @camelotandastronauts @caswinchester2000 @cpag7 @chelsea072498  @closetspngirl​ @deanwanddamons​ @docharleythegeekqueen​ @emoryhemsworth​ @ericaprice2008​  @esoltis280​   @foxyjwls007 @gh0stgurl @goldenolaf25​ @growningupgeek​  @heartislubbingdubbing​ @heyitscam99​ @hobby27​ @horsegirly99​ @imsuperawkward​ @internationalmusicteacher​ @iwriteaboutdean​  @jayankles​ @jensen-gal​ @justsomedreaming​ @just-another-busyfangirl @karlee-fay-my-wayward-son​ @linki-locks11​ @littleblue5mcdork​  @lowlyapprentice​   @mersuperwholocked-lowlife​ @mogaruke​ @monkeymcpoopoo​ @musiclovinchic93​  @nanie5​   @percussiongirl2017​ @plaid-lover-bay25​   @roonyxx​ @ronja-uebrick​ @roxyspearing​  @samanddeanmyheroes​ @sandlee44​ @shamelesslydean​ @simonsbluee​ @sillesworldofwriting​ @sgarrett49​ @spnbaby-67​ @spn-dean-and-sam-winchester​ @spnwoman​   @superbadassnatural​ @thatcrazybookwormgeek​   @thewinchesterchronicles​ @voltage-my2dlove​ @vvinch3st3r​  @whimsicalrobots​ @winchester-writes​ @zombiewerewolfqueen​

[seanhtaylor]

Erosion

The breeze that blew the dust around seemed to whisper rumors that a storm was on its way. I’d only swept off about half of the porch, and I wasn’t even close to being finished yet; after the porch came the back storage room. Since I was just a few feet away the from the open doorway, I could hear Pa whistling, but the wall hid him from me. He’d done a lot of counting in there all week.

Big Bull stood silently on the porch, and watched intently as I worked. His stare never left. Never turned. Never stopped. It was as eternal as the thin flat frown the woodworker had given him. He had skin like rust mixed with mud, and his outfit was a rainbow montage of feathers and animal skins. The man who made him was an Indian too.

Three years ago, Pa had finally bought that store he’d always dreamed of owning. Nettle’s General Store was to Pa the culmination of years of hopes, and the end of the elusive vision that never materialized, yet had continued to tease him me mercilessly. Most of his time, free or otherwise, was spent in that store. Neither my mother, sister, nor I saw much of him after that, except sometimes for supper. Meticulously he’d walk each aisle of the small store and stoop to check every bin of merchandise, neglecting nothing at all. Every yarn or straw doll, knitted scarf, Mr. Goodbar, everything was accounted for and inventoried.

Dust flew and danced around me in the breeze while I swept. Every few minutes, whenever his counting brought him to where he could see me out front, Pa would yell out to me to get on with it, or to tell me that I missed a spot. He wasn’t a big man, but he had a big voice. Most of the time he just kept to himself, staying busy with his inventory list.

“Hey, Pa! You need any help counting them yarn dolls?” I yelled, hoping my words would sneak around the doorway to get his attention. “Miss Barnes says my adding’s about the best in the whole class.” I gave him a few seconds to show. “Hey, Pa! “

“What you yelling about now, Midge?” Midge was the nickname given to me by most of the other kids at the schoolhouse. Short for midget, it never let me forget that I was less, at least in stature, than my peers. It was the only name by which most folks in town knew me. “Say, you ain’t done with this porch yet? Dang, son... Quit fooling around with that Indian, and finish the porch.”

“Yes, sir.”

The wind played tag with the dust, and kept me sweeping twice as much as I should’ve just to get done. When I did finish, I gave my broom to Big Bull, leaning it beside his spear. He was surely a sight, that proud warrior, carrying a war spear firm and ready to fight, and there propped up was against him a ramshackle excuse for a broom. If only a real heart beat underneath that chest of oak, it would’ve burst wide open of humiliation.

“So... Who are we gonna get after today, Big Bull? Billy the Kid?”

Indian eyes gazed straight ahead, seeming to point visibly at a victim for the day. Up main street, like the naked emperor in that Hans Christian Anderson story, walked Kyle Lovett.

“Good idea...” I told Big Bull, “Good idea...”

* * *

“Hey Mee-uhge,” Kyle teased, dragging the nickname into two syllables, “You and your Indian chased any rustlers out of town today?”

Kyle stopped in the middle of the street to make sure I didn’t ignore the remark. He looked different than usual. Clean. Dressed in his Sunday suit. Even his brown, mangled hair was combed. He didn’t look like the same Kyle who had bloodied my nose two years ago.

I knew it was stupid to provoke him again, but I couldn’t help it. Besides, Big Bull was with me. “Kyle? Hey, Kyle? What you all dressed up for? Today ain’t Sunday, and there ain’t a funeral in town or nothing.”

“Look here, Midge,” he shook a fist at me, “What I wear is my own business, not yours, runt.”

That was the Kyle I was used to, no matter how he looked. That was the bully who had been responsible for getting me and Big Bull together in the first place. When he had pounded my nose, Pa had been busy in the back of the store, and my mother had been up visiting my aunt and uncle in Missouri, so where else had I to go but to the Indian? He didn’t tell me to hush up my racket, or that I was too big to cry. He had just listened and let me wet his feet and legs with my tears and the blood from my nose. By the time I’d finished, the swelling had gone down, and most of the bruises weren’t sore anymore. Pa had sure been mad though; the blood wouldn’t wash out, so my shirt had been pretty much ruined, and it was a gift from my cousins.

“I just wanted to know. Didn’t mean to make nothing of it.”

“Well, it ain’t none of your business anyhow... but if go telling everybody, I’ll get you like last time.” Satisfied, he spun around, facing away from the big Windham house at the edge of Chattville, and strutted off like the only rooster in a house full of hens.

* * *

Sometimes Big Bull and I would pass the afternoon hoping for a new General Motors’ car to drive by. Most people who owned a car had an older Model T from ten or twelve years ago. The Windhams owned the only General Motors’ vehicle in town, but they only got it out when they went out to another town. Mostly everybody walked since Chattville was so small.

Before Kyle’s dust could get a chance to settle, Molly Windham came skipping up the street, her red hair pulled off to the sides of her head in pigtails, each one bouncing without rhythm, beating softly on her neck.

“That you, Midge?”

Molly was fourteen, three and a half years older than I was, but it didn’t matter much. Especially standing there in her green party dress, made up like she was grown, not just a girl.

“Sure is.”

She bounced right up to the porch, grinning like the cat from Wonderland.

“Midge...”

“Uh-uh.”

“I just got the best news in the world.” Her lips were painted with bright red; they were two roses, growing on her face. “And I’m so excited I feel like kissing somebody.”

And she did. Molly Windham leaned over and stuck her two roses right on my forehead, and puckered like a fish.

I thought the stars had fallen from heaven, and were dancing around me.

While the stars danced, Molly twirled off the porch, and straight over to the dress-maker’s shop. She jangled the bell beside his door a few times, spinning and jangling, jangling and spinning, until Sam Miller finally came out and yelled something I couldn’t make out before pulling her inside. The echo from the bell drifted toward me and Big Bull.

“Did you see that!?”

The Indian didn’t answer, but I knew he was listening, and that he hadn’t missed any of it.

“Pa... Pa... Guess what!”

* * *

“You done with that porch yet?” Pa had come out to the screen door, tapping his pencil hard against that list of his. “There’s plenty more sweeping to be done inside.”

“Pa...”

He slipped his pencil into the front pocket of his work apron, and pulled his watch and chain from out of his pocket. As he flipped it open, he nodded, “Now, don’t ‘Pa’ me. You know it takes a lot of work to keep this place going. That means all of us.”

“But Lucy doesn’t have to.”

“Your sister’s busy enough taking care of your mother. She don’t have the time.”

“But...”

Pa was starting to get mad. His eyes narrowed like an Oriental man, and his ears began to turn a little red under where his hair was cut. “No excuses. First the back room, where the feed is. After that, we’ll see about letting you play some more with that Indian.”

He held the screen door open until I got the broom and drudged inside, dragging it with me. His eyes didn’t leave me until the door to the back room slammed shut behind me. I know. I peeked back out as he turned.

* * *

My wooden friend waited patiently while I swept out the back room. He hadn’t changed a single expression while I’d been gone. Just like always. He was there waiting.

“How much do you think flowers cost, Big Bull?”

I kept watching for Molly to leave Sam Miller’s shop. After a while nobody went in or came out anymore, but there was still no sign of Molly.

“Special flowers, I mean. Something better than I could pick out of somebody’s yard.”

Directly, Sam left the shop too, and locked the door behind him. He left two empty buckets outside the shop’s door like he always did, just in case anybody needed to borrow one late in the day. His brown suit pulled tight over his round frame making him look like a sausage with a lump in the middle.

“What kind of flowers do girls like now, anyway? They’re always so hard to please. That’s what Pa says. He ought to know... he’s known my mother a long time and all.”

Sam had to walk down by the store to get to his house, and as he waddled by, I waved to him and said hello.

“Well, if it ain’t little Midge. Say, you got you a girl for the dance next month? Surely your Pa and...” He made a face like he’d swallowed a horse. “Surely he’s gonna let you and your sister get out to it.”

“We ain’t so good at dancing, Mr. Miller.”

“I ain’t so good myself...” he said, and he was right. Round men who bounce when they walk looked twice as silly dancing. Even though he waltzed like a bag of potatoes, he always went. The girls said he made the best dancing gowns in the state. “But I wouldn’t miss seeing all the pretty girls in their new dresses I’ve made for them. Just today Molly Windham ordered one of the most difficult gowns I’ve ever had to put together. Old Man Windham said not to worry about how much it costs. It’s a dress-maker’s dream, Midge.”

“What color is it, Mr. Miller?”

“Color? It ain’t just any color, Midge. I’ve gotta order the cloth clean out of St. Louis.”

“They got different colors in St. Louis than here in Chattville?”

“No. Now don’t fool with an old man’s funny bone. It’s red, except it’s the same color red as Molly’s hair, lighter in spots, and shiny when the sun hits it right.” Sam pulled on a gold chain that disappeared into the fold-over of flesh and suit where his pocket should have been. Out flopped a gold pocketwatch. He opened it. “Mrs. Miller will be wondering were I am soon. Hope you get to go.”

I waved goodbye, and then when he was gone. “Roses. Red roses. The reddest we can find.”

I knew Big Bull approved.

* * *

Pa said no when I asked him about the flowers. I told him I’d work harder, and even stay away from the gumballs, but he still said no. That he was spending too much on the store already, and with my mother’s fever still not breaking, even though it had been two weeks.

* * *

The wind was picking up, turning a calm kiss-like breeze into a cold slap. Some papers announcing the dance floated across town in short hops, then flew on, bullet-like, when the stronger drafts got a hold of them.

The porch was warm underneath my weight, but when I touched it in a new place the wood was cold. The moisture on my hands would chill and then thaw in a fluid motion. I looked back at Big Bull.

“Sure was nice of old Joe to let me work for the flowers.”

I held the two flowers, roses, red as Molly’s fiery hair and the lips that had kissed me. They had cost me every cent I had plus a promise to work down at Old Joe’s flower shop once a week when I wasn’t helping Pa at the store. It was a high price, but worth it to see the look I knew would be on Molly’s face when I asked her to the dance.

It had seemed like hours until dusk came. Now that it was here, I could hardly wait. But the timing had to be perfect. I had to show up right after the dishes were put away. If I arrived early, the surprise would get lost in the clean-up shuffle; if I was too late, the effect would be interrupted by the family time around the radio listening to Amos and Andy.

“Wish me luck,” I said, and dashed from the porch.

Roses firmly in hand, I hurried down to the house at the edge of Chattville where Molly and her father lived (Her mother had died of tuberculosis when Molly was a baby). I could think only of my dream, my vision, waiting for me there in her red party dress, the fringes dancing in the evening breeze. My heart seemed not only to beat, but to pound with a steady, driving, big jazz rhythm like Benny Goodman or Louis Armstrong was directing its music. Time hardly passed at all, it seemed before I was there, suddenly staring at the heavy oak door.

Mr. Windham answered the door quickly after my small closed hand gathered the resolve to knock. His herringbone suit hung comfortably loose off of his tall thin frame. When he recognized me, his small mustache twitched and his eyes focused down onto mine.

“Why Midge, what a pleasant surprise. What can I do for you?”

“Is Molly in, sir? I’d sure like to see her. I’ve got something for her.”

“Sure she is. Right in the den with...”

Kyle Lovett. Mr. Windham didn’t have to say it. I knew it the minute I walked in. He was sitting on the couch with Molly, holding her hand. How could she!? Didn’t she know what he was like? Kyle Lovett.

The roses were trampled underfoot as I choked on the anger rising in my throat, and ran away to Pa, dragging a cracked and tender heart behind me.

* * *

“Pa! Pa!” I pounded at the door with my small fists, knowing he would be locked away in the back office, listening to the clickety-clacks of the adding machine.

The sky had blackened while I had left Molly’s, and had given its first few drops to warn me that a big storm was coming. Rumbles sounded in the distance, but grew a little louder each time. If I’d had sense enough, I’d have let the winds blow me straight up the street to my house, safe from the weather.

“Pa! Please let me in. There’s a storm coming, Pa. Pa!”

As if it had waited for my announcement, the thunder and rain let loose on the earth like God was trying to punish us the way the Pastor down at the Missionary Church had said. The rain began to pelt down, soaking the dirt of the road, and beating it into a shallow layer of mud almost instantly. The papers that had been blown all over town were drenched and wrenched apart by the combined power of the wind and water.

Across the street was the wall of clay we all climbed on in the summer. At least we tried to climb it. It went about sixteen feet straight up, smooth as a polished stone. The only way to make it to the top was to take two pocket knives, and edge your way up, one jab at a time. Only the oldest and strongest boys ever made it all the way. The rest of us could hardly even stick the knives in the wall, since the clay was so hard and set.

Only, the storm washed it down to sixteen feet of mush pretty quickly. Anyone who tried to climb it now would probably drown in the river of wet clay eroding down the face of the wall.

The wind lifted Sam Miller’s two buckets, and sent one through the candy store window, and the other into the outside wall, where it dented and fell, waiting for another flight.

Although the porch kept me safe from most of the wind, it offered me no protection from the worst of the storm. The rain invaded in solid bullets of water, spreading out and joining together to make lakes and reservoirs that ran down between the cracks, only to be replaced by the new puddles that continued to build.

“Pa!” I yelled, but the thunder swallowed my cries. Big Bull stood firm. Since he was so heavy, the wind couldn’t shake him, not even a quiver. The rain soaked into the wood, but that only made him heavier, more secure. It also darkened the colors, and brought him closer to life.

Through the curtain of water, I saw every cut, every strain of artistry on Big Bull’s frame. In each carefully carved inch of his face, pain rested. His eyes were deep- set and sunken a little in sorrow, but somehow friendly in their darkness. The mouth was closed in an eternal silence, and the wrinkled carvings surrounding the flattened frown revealed a subdued bitterness that flamed, no doubt, beneath the painted exterior. Though he held only a single spear, his muscles were tensed and rigid, ready to answer the call to fight, eager. Big Bull captured well not only the hurt and anger of his people, but their strength as well.

So I hid from the storm.

The Indian’s figure kept me dry for the most part. Patches of rain managed every now and then to sneak around his legs and hit me, but I was separated from the worst part of the weather.

In time, the fury of the storm faded away. Its terrible threats and banshee screams died into quiet darkness. The sun had abandoned its post during the attack, leaving Chattville lighted only by the incandescent glow of random windows. Sleep, like a desire for death, found me, and I curled around Big Bull’s wooden feet.

* * *

“Midge... Midge... Get up. You’ll catch a death of cold out here.”

The blackness lifted from behind my mind and eyes, and I saw Pa trying to help me up.

“Pa...”

“Yeah, it’s me. What were you doing out here in the middle of that storm anyway? I thought you were home with your mother and sister.”

I didn’t answer. Instead, I reached for the handle of Big Bull’s spear, and used it to pull my worn-out body to a sluggish stance. Pa immediately reached out to keep me from falling again to the porch, but the spear supported me well enough.

“Let’s get you inside. I’ve got some hot cider going if you want some. It’ll sure help warm up your inards.”

I felt Pa’s overcoat as it was put around me to keep me from shivering. I expected it to engulf me, but it barely spread across my shoulders. He was a much smaller man than I had imagined.

© Sean Taylor

[imagine-loki]

Soulbonds and Fairy Dust

TITLE: Soulbonds and Fairy Dust CHAPTER NO./ONE SHOT: 42/?

AUTHOR: nekoamamori ORIGINAL IMAGINE: Imagine one of the fae has been helping the Avengers, jumping in to help them on missions and vanishing before Shield can bring her in.  Loki joins the team and convinces her to come talk to the team and consider joining before Shield takes more drastic measures. RATING: T (so far)  NOTES/WARNINGS: Also on AO3 here

You grabbed Loki’s hand one afternoon, intending on dragging him out of the tower.  You were tired of being cooped up inside. You thought you were going to sneak out until Thor caught you.  “Where are you two off to?” He asked.

You huffed and trolled your eyes.  “Out of the tower for once.  We’re not on house arrest,” you grumbled at him.  

“We would like to not be held prisoner in this place, brother. And Sig has plans to go have some fun,” Loki added, supporting you and your decision to go out.  Loki would always support you in whatever you were planning and plotting. 

“I was not saying that you could not go.  I was simply curious where you were off to,” Thor replied with a shrug.  He was supposed to look after you two after all.  You accepted that, even if you didn’t always approve of his methods.  

You rolled your eyes at your annoying practically-brother-in-law.  “Our fun.  You’re not invited,” you told him a bit grumpily before he could think to invite himself along on your date.

Loki chuckled.  “Go play with Sif, brother, let us have our fun,” 

You tugged on Loki’s hand and slipped away with him before Thor could answer and before anyone else could bother you.  You sighed in relief when you’d escaped the tower and made it out to fresh air.  You swung your joined hands as you strolled along the streets of New York.  

Your first stop on your outing was lunch, because Asgardians were all hungry creatures. You led Loki to a little hole in the wall restaurant, which was adorable and tucked away where only people who knew about it could find it.  Loki smiled and seemed pleased with how quaint and quiet the place was.  He didn’t want to be bothered with a horde of customers anymore than you had.  

The waitress looked up from her work as you entered.  “Pick anywhere, Sam!” She called over to you. You blushed, knowing Loki was going to ask about the name.  You picked a table well away from the other customers in the place. 

Loki raised an eyebrow when you were seated and facing each other across the table.  “Sam?” He asked, not giving you the option not to give you the information. 

“That’s Katie, her parents own the place.  I met her in one of my classes and basically taught her all the material in that class,” you started as that was the easiest place to start the explanations.  “I couldn’t exactly register for classes as ‘Sigyn Freyadottir’ without drawing attention to myself so…” you trailed off “She trails off she knows me as Sam,” you added with a shrug.  

Loki nodded.  “That makes sense. Especially since your name is certainly not common on Midgard,”

“It’s really not,” you agreed easily.

Katie brought you over menus. “About time you finally found a boyfriend.  There were bets going,” she teased.  “And yes, I know you’ll get the same thing you do every time you show up, but boyfriend might want to actually see what we have,” she turned to Loki and gave him a smile.  Not a flirtatious one, just a friendly one.  “I’m Katie, Sam here is the only reason I passed that dreadful Calculus class,” she explained before you could even reply.  She was a vivacious extrovert.

/You’ll need to give me a cover name as well. Especially since she doesn’t seem to know who I am./ Loki told you telepathically, seeming surprised by that fact.

/She’s knows.  You’re kinda famous after all.  She’s polite though/ you reminded Loki, but looked him over evaluating him.  You gave Katie a bright smile.  “Yes, he’s my boyfriend.  Don’t embarrass him or he’ll leave me,” you threatened.  “You can call him Loren,” it was an alias Loki had taken previously on Midgard.  

Loki shook Katie’s hand, smiling politely.  “It’s always nice to meet one of my love’s friends,” he said warmly.

Katie beamed.  “It’s nice to see she’s found someone.  She’s too cursed shy,” she teased you.  You stuck your tongue out in reply.  Katie took your drink orders and promised to come back to get Loki’s order.  

He skimmed the menu and gave you an expectant look.  “What’s good to eat here, Sig?” He asked softly, keeping your real name quiet.  

You smirked.  “As you’ve heard I always get the same thing.  The seafood pasta is to die for,” you purred.  It was one of your most favorite foods in all the nine realms. 

Loki seemed pleased with your enthusiasm over the meal.  “I’ll take your word for it and get some for myself then,” he replied.  

When he had placed his order, Katie sighed overly dramatically.  “She converted you too?” She teased.  “Fine fine, two seafood pastas,” she continued teasing and headed off to get the orders started.

Loki chuckled at her retreating back.  “She seems spritely. No pun intended,”

You sighed.  “Yeah, apparently I was too smart and shy so I needed an extrovert friend.  So she volunteered herself,”

Loki laughed louder. “Volunteered herself?”

You nodded and looked put upon.  “Definitely.  She insisted I needed a friend and adopted me as such.  No matter what I had to say on the matter. Sorry I picked a name without consulting you, but I figured if you used the alias before that you were comfortable with it…” 

Loki nodded. “It’s fine. Don’t worry, Sig,” he reassured you

You smirked maliciously. “And it was better than Walter. Seriously? You went by Walter?” You teased him mercilessly.  But that’s what he deserved for picking a name as horrible as Walter. 

Loki shrugged, though blushed at the reminder. “It was the first name that popped into my head,”

You enjoyed the lovely meal out with your Loki, who agreed that the dish was delicious as you’d indicated.  You grinned at him when the plates were empty.  “This is only the first stop.  We can’t have fun if we’re hungry,” you reminded him brightly.

You saw the love in Loki’s eyes and saw how adorable he clearly thought you were.  But you were teasing and laughing with each other so he put on his most put-upon expression and whine.  “Alright, so where to next, my love?”

[calpalirwin]

Artsy Folk

Summary: Funny how working at a high school makes you feel seventeen again.

A/N: Teacher!Ash!

Content: Fluff. Almost cuss word free.

Word Count: 2.8k

And away, and away we go!

~~~

You frowned as you looked at your box of decorations and around your bare classroom walls. Just how the hell you were going to decorate in time for the first day was beyond you. What you needed was help, preferably from someone who was tall. But, that wasn’t in the cards for you. You were on your own.

You cracked your knuckles and set out to work. In two hours, your fingers were sore. In four, your back ached.

You wiped the sweat from your forehead as you caught your breath, looking around the room. It was certainly better than it had been, but still not exactly how you wanted it. You thought the heavy pounding was coming from your chest, but as you rested your hand on your chest, you realized the noise wasn’t coming from you.

You got up and walked over to your opened classroom door, peeking out across the quad. Another classroom door was swung open and the pounding had gotten louder. Curiosity took control and you found yourself strolling towards the music pouring out of the other classroom.

Your knuckles rapped politely on the door as you poked your head in. “Hello?” you announced.

The man at the drumkit didn’t hear you as he drummed with his whole body, lost in the music. The midnight hair covered his face as the drumsticks twirled effortlessly in his large fingers. You could see the swell of his arm muscles and the thickness of his thighs as he beat mercilessly on the kit- a fast-paced, steady rhythm.

“Hello?” you said a bit louder, moving deeper into the room.

There was a thunderous finish, before his fingers gripped the cymbals to silence them, the notes still reverberating around in your ears. Those same fingers pushed his hair out of his face and then a startled pair of the prettiest eyes you’ve ever seen were taking you in. “Oh, hello,” his voice called out and you detected the trace of an accent.

You blinked and he was in front of you, taller than you by a foot, and reaching out a hand. “I’m Ashton.”

“Y/N,” you breathed back, wondering when you had blacked out as you shook his hand.

“I wasn’t bothering you, was I? I keep asking admin to soundproof this room, but they never get around to it. I swear one of these days, I’m just gonna do it myself.”

You shook your head to clear it, his words filtering foggily into your head. “What? No, you weren’t bothering me. I… uh… it was good! I thought I was alone.”

He giggled and you saw stars. “Nah, I’m always here.”

“Hard time separating work and home?”

He giggled again as he shrugged. “Not much to go home to. Plus, I spend so much time teaching music, I don’t get around to playing it a whole lot. So, I try to fit it in when I can.”

You nodded, “I get what you mean. Too busy teaching our passion to partake in it ourselves.”

“Exactly,” he smiled and you melted at that dimple in his cheek. You, you decided, were in big fucking trouble. “So, what do you teach?”

“Oh, I’m the new drama teacher.”

“Oh, sweet! We’ll have a lot of the same students then.”

“Probably work together a lot too, huh?”

He nodded, smiling wider. “Oh, for sure. What kind of productions do you have planned? Or have you got that far yet?”

You laughed, shaking your head. “Today is just a decorating day. Hunting down age-appropriate productions is tomorrow’s job.”

“Did you need any help decorating?” the words rushed from his mouth. “I mean, I…” he started to falter, his cheeks flushing as he passed a hand through his raven locks. “I’m tall so I can… I mean… if you don’t wanna stand on a desk.”

“That would be great actually! If you don’t mind?”

“Nah, not at all. Us artsy folk gotta stick together.”

~~~

You felt a flutter in your stomach every time he flashed you a smile across the quad as you both held the door to your respective classrooms open for your students.. You couldn’t stop your own smile how you heard his voice boom out after every bell with a welcoming, “Alright class!” Was working on a high school campus destined to make you feel like a lovestruck teenager yourself?

The flutter in your stomach got more pronounced on your lunch breaks when he’d spin a chair around to lean his chest against the back, his dimple indenting his cheek as he popped an orange slice in his mouth.

“How was your break?” he asked after the holidays had finished.

“It was good,” you smiled at him, wishing for the millionth time to be that orange slice that brushed up against his perfect lips. “How was yours? Get to put your passion to good use?”

“Did you?” he challenged, tapping the screenplay you had next to your own lunch. “Seriously, how many of these do you read?”

“A lot,” you laughed. “Mostly to get scene ideas for the kids to practice. But this is for the spring musical.”

“Sound of Music, huh?” he asked, glancing at the title. “I always loved that one.”

“Me too. I’ve always wanted to do it.”

“Have you talked with Luke and Mike?” he asked, referencing the tall choir teacher and the wild art teacher.

“No, I need to,” you said, pulling out a pen and scratching the note down on the back of the script. “Thanks for the reminder.”

“No problem,” he grinned, swallowing another orange slice. “Lemme know if I can help with any musical arrangements.”

“Would you?” you asked, eyes hopeful and wide. His name had been first on your list of people to ask for help when you got the rights to put on the production.

“Us artsy folk gotta stick together.”

~~~

You sighed, rubbing your eyes as the teenagers on the stage looked at you with sheepish smiles on their faces. You glanced down at your phone to note the time. You had an hour left of rehearsal time. Sixty minutes to nail your favorite scene. The students were hard-working, there was no denying that. But nothing about this scene felt right to you. It felt forced. And you hated that. Maybe it was the long hours getting to you. Maybe there was a pressure you were putting on yourself to put on the perfect production of your favorite musical. Either way, something wasn’t clicking today and it was driving you up a wall. “What’s going on, guys? Is it the lyrics? Do we need another day with Mr. Hemmings? Is it the blocking? Do I need to break it down again? Help me, help you, guys. C’mon.”

“It’s just not clicking, Miss,” Charlie, a lanky sophomore, said, rubbing at his neck.

“He keeps throwing me around like a ragdoll!” McKenzie, a petite junior, turned on her partner, hands on her hips.

“I’m supposed to spin you! That’s the scene!” he fought back, towering over her.

“Not so fast! And do you have to grab me so hard?! Miss, he’s bruising my hips!”

“I’m not doing it on purpose!”

“Alright!” you shouted above their bickering, waving your hands. “Fighting’s not gonna get this done. Kenz, Charlie’s right. Spinning you is the scene. But Charlie, slow it down like half a step. Go with the beat of the music.”

“Miss, it’s a little much. The music, the lyrics, the blocking,” Charlie admitted with another sheepish look.

You sighed again, glancing at your phone again. It was Charlie’s first production and he had landed himself quite the role. You had specifically cast him alongside McKenzie so the older girl could lend her experience on the stage to the boy. It had been working, or so you thought. “Why don’t we take it one piece at a time? Just do the blocking. Then add the lyrics. Then the music. 3 more takes.”

Charlie and McKenzie nodded in agreement.

“Alright, Mr. Irwin, keep off the music cue, please,” you said, turning to where Ashton was a little ways off with the band.

Ashton nodded with a small smile that had your insides doing somersaults.

“Alright, take it away.”

The action on stage was gawky as the two students moved in silence, the only sound being the scuffling of their shoes. All three of you shared a collective frown as they moved back to run it again. The second take flowed better as the lyrics they sang provided structure to their movements. “Alright, better,” you approved, smiling as they moved back for the last take. “Now, let’s add the music. Mr. Irwin?”

Ashton led his students through the music as you trained your eyes on Charlie and McKenzie’s movements. Charlie’s foot stumbled as he picked up McKenzie, falling into his usual half-step behind the music. He spun fast and hard to catch back up to pace, but forgot to spot his turn, so the toes of his sneakers lost their grip and with McKenzie in his arms, he couldn’t regain his balance. Both teenagers tumbled to the stage floor, Charlie graciously taking the brunt of it, “oof,”s falling from everyone’s lips as you winced.

“We good?” you checked, your face a mask of worry.

Charlie stood up, dusting off his jeans, before reaching a hand to help McKenzie to her feet, both breathless with laughter. “Yeah, we’re good, Miss. Sorry, Kenz.”

“You forgot to spot,” McKenzie scolded, patting the boy’s chest. “Miss, he always forgets to spot his turns.”

“She’s right, Charlie,” you told them, with a soft chuckle.

“Miss, it’s too much. Every time I think I got it, my brain messes it up.”

“You’re doing fine, Charlie. This is a process. That’s why we have rehearsals. Do we need to take a small break?”

Charlie and McKenzie shared a look that bordered on dangerous before Charlie spoke up. “You know, Miss… I’m a visual learner… maybe if you showed me how this scene goes…?” his eyes fluttered over to Ashton suggestively as you felt heat rise to your cheeks.

You narrowed your eyes at McKenzie in particular. You had gotten to know the girl pretty well over your stint as her teacher, and she gave you relentless teasing when she had caught you subconsciously biting your lip when you and Ashton shared your smile and wave between classes. You also knew that a lot of the students thought you and Ashton shared something that went beyond those small smiles, a rumor that was growing with how close you were becoming to the music teacher now that you were working on the musical together. Teenagers, you had come to realize, were incredibly observant when it came to matters of the heart.

You pulled yourself onto the stage and moved to stand between the teenagers, ignoring the eyes on you, Ashton’s in particular. “It’s like this,” you explained. “Pick, twirl, land,” you demonstrated, going through the motions. “It’s not even a full spin, Charlie. It’s a 180 degree turn, not a full 360.”

Charlie shared another look with McKenzie before he flashed you a grin. “Yeah, Miss, I still don’t fully get it. Can… hey, Mr. Irwin! Can you come help?”

A smirk threatened to overtake Ashton’s face, his hazel eyes wide as they looked at you. “Uh…” he faltered, a hand running through his ink-like hair.

“Clearly there’s only so much teaching I can do before I require reinforcements,” you told him with a shy smile and small giggle, sweeping your arm before you in silent question.

A matching giggle came out of Ashton’s own lips as he effortlessly swung himself up on stage with you. “You know the scene?” you checked.

“Course I do,” he confirmed.

“Alright, from the top then,” you said, directing your attention away from his close proximity to look at your students. “Charlie, watch Mr. Irwin’s movements. McKenzie, watch mine. As much as the pressure is on Charlie in this scene, you’re playing an important role, too. Keep him grounded,” you explained as you and Ashton took your marks.

Ashton gestured for his students to start playing the music and your eyes went wide for a moment as he started singing. You were surprised you were so surprised by his singing voice. His regular talking voice was as smooth as honey, of course his singing voice would be even more magnificent.

Your bodies moved in sync through the scene, his hand there to guide you up to step onto the bench, before his strong hands were on your waist and you were lifted into the air. You bit on your lip to keep in the schoolgirl like giggle bubbling up inside as he pivoted in a graceful half spin and placed you gently on your feet, the music and your voices fading out across the theater.

Your heart was racing and your ears were ringing as his hands stayed glued to your hips, eyes locked on each other.

“Oh!” Charlie’s voice sounded, and you and Ashton jumped apart, his fingertips lighting you up as they slid across skin, keeping contact until the last possible second. “I think I get it now!”

“Yeah?” you asked, a smile on your lips and your eyes shining as you kept your gaze on Ashton.

“Yeah!” Charlie said, excitedly.

“Alright, take your marks. Run it from the top,” you said, biting your lip as Ashton’s tongue poked out to wet his own.

When Charlie and McKenzie ran through the scene, they didn’t mess up once. You raised your eyebrows in suspicion at them and they just grinned at you. You shook your head, your shoulders shaking in a silent chuckle before your eyes darted over to see if Ashton was looking. When he wasn’t, you mouthed a thank you to the conspirators. “Alright, great work, guys. Let’s call it early,” you said loudly, gathering everyone’s attention. “Back here at 3:30 sharp tomorrow.”

~~~

You stood in front of the auditorium, watching the last of the students get picked up by parents or jet off into the evening with their friends. You crossed your arms over the chest to ward of the chill, desperately wishing for the parking lot to empty so you could seek the warm shelter of your own car.

“Hey,” a voice piped up and you jumped. “Sorry, didn’t mean to scare ya,” Ashton chuckled.

Your hand fluttered to your racing heart. “I figured you would have left already.”

“Nah,” he said, leaning up against the wall of the building, a leg kicked up so his foot rested against the wall along with his shoulders. “Just got finished locking up the band room.”

“Mmm,” you nodded, looking out across the parking lot, not wanting to look at the man who had set a fire in your soul not even twenty minutes ago. How someone could ooze sexiness without even trying made you shiver at what he was capable of when he used his charm full force.

“I didn’t make you uncomfortable in there, did I?” he questioned, his eyebrows furrowing together.

“What? No! No,” you laughed, “not at all.”

He let out a small chuckle of relief, “Good. Cuz I was gonna say, I think they’ve been plotting that one for a while.”

“Me too. Wonder where they got such a crazy idea from,” you wondered out loud.

He pushed off the wall and stuffed his hands in the pockets of his jeans. “Dunno. Kids get these crazy notions sometimes.”

“Crazy,” you said, biting into your lip as you turned to look at him.

“Totally,” he agreed, swallowing thickly. “It’s like I can’t smile at a pretty girl without the whole school thinking I got a crush.”

“And do you?” you asked, your cheeks warming at his dropped compliment.

“Do I what?”

“Have a crush on the pretty girl?”

His shoulders shrugged and his eyes danced away. “Maybe…” his voice murmured the answer.

“Maybe the pretty girl has a crush on you too,” you admitted shyly.

“Yeah?” You noticed the hopeful lilt in his voice and the heat in your cheeks grew in intensity.

“Night, Ashton,” you smiled, walking off slowly in the direction of your car.

He didn’t answer as you continued to walk away and you let out a small sigh of discontent. Maybe it was best to have kept your attraction a secret from the music teacher across the hall. Better to have the small moments of affection and tenderness rather than lose it if things went by the wayside. So when his fingers danced onto your waist, you nearly jumped out of your skin before instinctively relaxing into his touch, wondering how someone so big could move so silently. Those same fingers you had spent many a sleepless night imagining exploring the expanse of your body tugged at your flesh, spinning you around to face him. “You have no idea how long I’ve been wanting to do this,” he breathed down at you before his perfect lips were on yours.

“You have no idea how long I’ve been wanting you to do that,” you replied, melting into him, his kiss, his touch, craving more and more.

“Us artsy folk gotta stick together.” His eyes were shining and his voice was breathless and you were thinking things that left you wet between your legs.

“That we do,” you said before reaching up on your tiptoes to kiss him again.

~~~

Tag List

@goeatsomelife​ @flameraine​ @cashtonasff5sos​ @here-for-the-uproars​ @cxddlyash​ @1-irwin-94​ @baldcalum​ @sparkling-chaos​ @tea4sykes​ @youngblood199456​ @5-seconds-of-obsession​

[blackreaders-assemble]

Brotherly Love

Stepbro!Loki x black!reader

Warning ⚠️: smut.

A/N: I hate myself for breaking my no more smut rule that's why it's trash. 😂

💚🖤💚🖤💚🖤💚🖤💚🖤💚🖤

The day Loki became my stepbrother was one of the worst days of my life. I can't stand him; he makes it his mission to piss me off. He's developed the habit of smacking my ass then shooting me that cocky smirk that seems to be permanently etched onto his face. I told him that if he didn't stop I was going to tell my mom. I regretted the words as soon as they flew out of my mouth.

Loki circled back around and slammed me into the wall. He looked so angry and feral and it shouldn't have turned me on as much as it did.

"Let's get one thing straight, little one," he growled while pointing a long finger in my face. "I do whatever I want around here. This is my home, that means that half of everything here belongs to me..." he moved my braids out of my face then grabbed my jaw, "...even you."

That damn smirk was creeping up on his face again, making me squeeze my thighs together and my nipples became hard. I gritted my teeth and pushed his chest to get him away from me but he grabbed my wrist and pinned them above my head.

"Let go of me," I whispered/yelled. I tried to twist my wrist out of his grasp but his grip just got tighter. I attempted to knee him in the balls and he placed it between my legs and applied pressure. I bit back a moan but it was useless because Loki could look into my eyes and see how aroused I am. But knowing him, he could probably smell it.

"You never listen," he chuckles then breathed deeply. "That is quite a quandary."

"You're such a creep!"

He kissed my cheek and slowly made his way to my neck. I let out an involuntary moan and Loki snickered against my neck, causing a shudder up and down my spine. He held my wrists with one hand while the other went under my shirt to fondle my breasts. His long, cold fingers ghosted across my right nipple, making my breath hitch.

"What the hell are you doing?" I asked, trying to appear upset.

"What you've wanted since day one," he responded.

I bit my bottom lip when he pinched my nipple. He slowly dragged my hand down my torso, lightly scratching me.

"Succumb to me, my pet," he demanded, his tone low and slightly dangerous which only turned me on more. He toyed with the button on my shorts. By this point my pussy was throbbing and I was just about to do as I was told but then my mother ruined the moment by calling me downstairs for dinner.

Loki sighed disappointedly and took a step back. My breathing was shallow and my mind was dazed, I didn't want him to stop and I think he picked up on that by the way I bit my lip and clenched my thighs.

He grabbed the back of my neck and kissed me roughly.

"Until next time," he said as he walked downstairs with that incredibly sexy smirk gracing his lips.

What the fuck?

**

Loki had the audacity to sit next to me at the dinner table and act as if what just happened upstairs didn't happen. He was so calm and collected I started to wonder if I had daydreamed everything, but then he placed his hand on my thigh and I knew it had all been real.

"So, what's been going on," my mom asked as she sat a huge bowl of sweet peas on the table.

I shrugged and kept my head down, I didn't trust myself to speak since Loki had started lightly dragging his fingers closer to my clothed pussy. My mother furrowed her eyebrows and pursed her lips.

"I thought you had a date tomorrow night with that nice boy from your calculus class?"

Loki's hand stilled on my upper thigh and dug his nails into the soft skin. My eyes widened and I stammered out a reply.

"W-well, y-y-yeah, I guess." I kept my eyes on my plate and put my hand on Loki's, trying to get him to ease his grip. I knew that this was his way of saying that I better back out of the date, but a part of me wanted to see how far I could push him. "The date should be fun, ma, I'm really looking forward to it."

She smiled then took a small bite of her food. I heard Loki sigh, then he asked to be excused. My mother looked at me curiously and I shrugged in response.

I knew that I'd upset him, it was just a matter of time before he'd confront me about it.

**

It was around 3am when Loki snuck into my room. I was laying in bed watching a movie on my laptop and he just stood at the foot of the bed and stared at me. I tried to ignore him, thinking that he'd go away, but he didn't move.

I rolled my eyes and moved my laptop to the bedside table.

"What do you want?" I asked.

He paced for a minute with his hands clasped behind his back before he turned to me. The look in his eyes startled me and I scooted back towards the headboard.

"Cancel the date." The demand was clear but I really wasn't about to listen to him.

I stood up off the bed and crossed my arms. "No." In a quick second, I realized that was the wrong thing to say.

Loki grabbed my neck then pushed me on the bed and straddled me. His grip was just hard enough to have me gasping for air. He leaned in close and I closed my eyes and whimpered.

"I told you earlier, darling, you belong to me now," he said. A shudder of fear and excitement ran through me and Loki loosened his grip a bit.

"L-Loki, I –," I started but I didn't finish. Loki kissed me hard, all teeth and you tongue. I moaned into the kiss but before I could really get into it, he got up and towered over me.

"Strip."

I quickly ridded myself of my sleeping shorts and tank top. Loki was thrilled to see that I wasn't wearing any underwear.

"No underwear? Tell me, darling, were you hoping this would happen?" He giggled in a somewhat manic way. My faced heated up at his accusation and I bit my lower lip. I glared up at him to hide my embarrassment.

"Fuck you," I snapped.

"Patience my dear."

Loki kneeled between my legs and softly ran his fingers up and down my thighs, making me shiver. He brushed his index finger against my clit and I almost came right then. He dipped a finger into me then pulled it out and sucked on it, the sight made me twitch. It was pure sin.

"You taste like the sweetest ambrosia," he groaned.

His stare was too intense, I had to look away. He stood up and quickly removed his clothes. Loki was definitely a sight for sore eyes. He was absolutely breathtaking; his long, black hair falling over his broad shoulders and his baby blue eyes were shining bright. He also wasn't as lanky as he looked, he had just the right amount of muscle.

"Like what you see?" He teased.

I nodded before I could stop myself. He climbed on top of me and wrapped my legs around his waist. He teased the head of his dick against my entrance and snickered as I grew more and more frustrated.

"Either fuck me or get off of me!"

He laughed loudly, "Such a filthy mouth for a little girl." He suddenly entered me and didn't stop until he filled me up. I was completely breathless and I couldn't think properly. Loki barely gave me time to adjust before he was fucking me mercilessly, making me feel every inch of him.

He took hold of my breasts and bit and sucked on my nipples, making my pussy clenched around him.

"Fuck, Loki... please... don't stop," I moaned, my eyes rolling back.

"You feel incredible, pet."

It wasn't long before our orgasms were approaching and we fell over the edge together. Loki layed next to me as we caught our breaths. He suddenly reached over and grabbed my chin.

"Cancel the damn date," he said firmly.

I nodded then sucked his thumb into my mouth.

"I will, I promise."

**

REBLOG & COMMENT

Tag: @canumoveurseatup-no @ironheartedqueen

[thesmalltowngal]

prompt: jock Baz and nerdy Simon highschool AU, or the other way around :''''''')

Otp Prompt: Baz is a Jock and ruthless on the pitch. He has a reputation to uphold… so what the hell is he supposed to do when he falls for Simon; the resident nerd (and his rival) in Watford high? Non-magic high school AU

I had a lot of fun writing this and I hope I didn’t disappoint! If anyone has any other prompt ideas, go ahead and leave them in the comments or in the ‘ask me something’. :)

I am utterly fucked. I’m just walking down the halls when I see the familiar thatch of bronze curls and blue eyes. Simon bloody Snow is ten feet away from me, talking with his sidekick Penelope Bunce, laughing about something (some nerdy science joke, no doubt). When he laughs, his eyes crinkle at the sides and his nose scrunches and all I can think is fuck me fuck me fuck me. His moles are all scattered around his face, and I can’t help but nearly swoon as his laugh floats down the halls. It’s the end of classes and I have practise; I’m just going to get out of the halls and onto the pitch as fast as I can. Classes are hard enough with him. Watching him laugh in class makes me want to be the one making him laugh. It’s torture.

Of course, he abruptly stops laughing when his eyes land on me, a ghost of a smile still on his lips. As he gets closer, I sneer at him and hit his books down onto the floor. Penny just rolls her eyes and Simon growls at me. He growls. What a nerd. I look down at his books on the floor and I can hear Dev and Niall snicker behind me. In his books that fall, I see his normal school books, plus another one about magic. What an adorably cute nerd that I would like to spit on and then snog. “Oh poor Snow. I see you’ve finally gone loony, reading about magic. What an utter nerd.” He glares up at me and I see the blush spread across his cheeks. The adorable twat.

“Shut up, Baz.” He says it in what would be a threatening tone if he wasn’t picking his books up off the floor.

“Maybe we should get you a stick and you can zap me away. Oh, Snow. I’m petrified.” I laugh humorlessly as I step around him, resisting the urge to turn around and help him and tell him I’m sorry.

“What a loser.” Niall says beside me. I have the urge to tell him to shut up. Instead, I simply nod my head, leading us down to the football pitch.

Usually, I can lose myself on the field. I can forget about blue eyes and bronze curls and just play the game. But today as I’m kicking the ball toward another teammate, I spot someone off to the side of the field. As I look over to see who it is, I stumble over the ball and get a face full of grass. I can hear someone’s laugh from all the way across the field… not only is Simon standing there, but he’s doubled over in laughter. The tosser.

“Pitch! What’s wrong with you? Get your head in the game!” I shake it off and keep practising, but it proves to be bloody hard when your enemy that you’re in love with is watching your every move. Suffice it to say, I’m not doing my best during practise.

Under any other circumstances, I would have no problem telling Simon Snow that I’m in love with him. But the thing is, I can’t be gay. I mean, it’s obvious enough that I am gay. But I just can’t be. I can’t tell anyone about it- I’ll be teased mercilessly for the rest of senior year. And if by some chance people didn’t care I was gay, I still couldn’t be with Simon. He’s a nerd and I’m a jock (even if I do read as much- probably more than Simon. I just don’t tell people about that). We’re on two different tracks headed two different directions. And even if by some miracle people were accepting, and it didn’t matter that we were different… Simon hates me. And even if people were accepting, it didn’t matter that we were different, and Simon didn’t hate me, he’s still very bloody straight. He dated Agatha Wellbelove for years before she finally called it quits.

Everything is just stacked up against us. And even as I see that Simon is still watching me, I keep reminding myself of all the reasons it wouldn’t work. If fate is a thing… it sure as fuck seems to be stacked against me.

At the end of practise, the guys head to the locker room, but I hang back a bit. I want to know why Simon was watching the practise. I stroll over to him like every atom in my body isn’t telling me that I want to run into his arms. “Snow,” I sneer. His face falls and I can’t help but wish I wasn’t so cruel. “What are you doing here, you twat?”

“I was just-” I cut him off.

“You were just what? Admiring the team? Next time, Snow, take a picture. It’ll last longer.” I always go for the lowest blow. I don’t know why I do that. But if teasing him is the only time I’ll ever get with Simon Snow, I’ll bloody well take it. I start to turn away from him and walk away.

“Why do you hate me?” He spits it out like he hadn’t meant to. When I turn back around, his face looks like he wishes he could push the words back in. He’s still holding his books (like the bumbling nerd he is) and he looks down at them.

“What?” I spit and raise an eyebrow. Simon Snow, do you want me to not hate you?

“Why do you hate me? I’m serious Baz, I want to know. I never did anything to you. So why do you hate me?” Because you made me love you. His voice quivers when he asks me. I want nothing more than to wrap my arms around him and tell him that I never hated him. But that pesky reputation I have to uphold is more pressing.

“Why does the Earth revolve around the Sun, Snow? Because it’s just what it does. It’s what it’s supposed to do. I hate you because it’s just what I do, and it’s what I’m supposed to do. Happy?” He thinks for a second, and I don’t think I realized just how close we were getting. Taking unconscious steps toward each other.

“No. I’m not happy,” He reaches up and brushes away a strand of hair that fell down into my face. It’s like he doesn’t even realize he’s doing it. And I realize just how tense I am as my whole body sighs under his touch. “Because I don’t think jocks and nerds need to be enemies, Baz. I don’t think we need to be enemies.” He’s much closer now, and I have to tilt my head down to look at him. It isn’t fair. It isn’t fair that I went to the same high school as Simon bloody Snow, and that I fell in love with him of all people, even when we were destined to be enemies. It isn’t fair. But it’s also the way it has to be. His eyes are full of hope, and once again, I’ll be the one to kill it.

“Simon, I-” I start to tell him that it’s just the way it goes. But before I can even move on from his name (I can’t believe I really said his name. I’m a bloody idiot sometimes)(or maybe a genius), he pushes his lips to mine, and all words are lost on my tongue. I guess that’s the thing about Earth and the Sun. They have to crash into each other eventually.

Now I get why you read all of the magic books, Simon, I want to say to him. (I only don’t because currently my lips are busy with something else).

Because this is magic. We are magic.

[forkanna]

[AO3 LINK] [EF LINK]

NOTES: Forkannukkah continues! So my biggest challenge with this one-shot was not to spend more time on it than the others because (spoiler) Makoto is my favourite Senshi. It's by a very thin margin because I love them all so much, but I just adore this gentle Amazon! But I forced myself to write a story of similar length and passion instead of putting all my focus on Jupiter. Hope you guys like it!

Act 4. Makoto: The Housewife Is A Husband

"USAGI!" Sailor Jupiter called out as she flung herself forward, arms extended to save Sailor Moon from a fall that would at the absolute least have bruised her tailbone, if not shattered it. Again.

"OOF!" Success.

Jupiter didn't know why she spent so much time saving their leader. It was even how they first met; diving to keep her pretty blonde head from being plastered across the front of a car. There were two other Senshi on the team already, and they were still looking for their fifth, yet she seemed to always be the one rushing after the smallest when she was in trouble. She could be such a klutz sometimes!

But she was also ready and willing to thrust herself into the heat of battle… or at least, now she was. Once upon a time, she had been nervous and unsure of herself, but after a few good rounds against the Dark Kingdom, she was starting to come into her own. It was pretty inspiring to watch.

"Sorry!" she hissed as she was set on her feet again. "Thanks again, Jupiter!"

"Will you stop wasting time?!" Sailor Mars hissed out of the corner of her mouth, raising an ofuda that she was about to toss into the villain's face, freezing it in place with her spell so they could more easily dispatch it. "This isn't a tea ceremony class — these guys mean business! Finish it off already!"

"Its weak point is exposed," Mercury confirmed, gesturing toward the glowing crystal that had been revealed by Mars's attack. "A strike there should bring it to its knees."

Nodding, Usagi flexed her muscles, cracked her neck. "Got it! This thing is goin' down!"

"Get 'em, Sailor Moon!" Jupiter cheered her on as the pigtailed heroine dashed toward the ugly thing. What was this one supposed to be? An accordion, maybe? Weird. After a while, it became easier to stop caring what the Enemy looked like and just attack, focusing on strategy instead of idle questions.

And it worked, as usual. While they held off the minions, Sailor Moon used her tiara to dispatch the Big Baddie and they had won. Zoisite was beaten back again, sneering down at them while vanishing into the nothingness, and the day was saved. Thanks to…

"Sailor Moon, Champion of Justice!" she crowed at the top of her lungs, striking a pose while she, Mercury, and Mars did the same on either side of her. She tried not to laugh; what a little nerd.

                                                        ~ o ~

But that was their profession. Outside of her time spent fighting against the forces of evil as Sailor Jupiter, Makoto Kino wasn't that impressive. None of them were. Maybe Usagi was cute and bubbly, and Makoto was strong, and Ami was a certified genius, and Rei had fortune telling skills, and they were all at least passably attractive… but nobody in their school, or in all of Azabu-Juuban really, knew they existed. Popularity wasn't that important to Makoto, but Usa-chan really seemed to lament that. Go figure; different people have different interests.

It was another average afternoon, and the three of them were eating lunch on a blanket under a sakura tree with Usagi's childhood friend, Naru. That is to say, two of them were both eating out of Makoto's bento, since Usagi never seemed to be able to remember her own. Or had no money to buy anything, but mysteriously did have money when they got to Game Center Crown after school. She was used to it by now. Rei would give her hell about it, and Ami or Luna would lecture her on wise spending choices, but personally, Makoto understood that thriftiness wasn't one of Usagi's strengths. Not everybody was good at everything, and she always had plenty of extra food, anyway.

"Say 'ahhhh'," she teased, holding up a croquette with her chopsticks.

"Ahhhhh!" Usagi sang out obediently, clasping her hands to one side of her cheek and striking an overly-cutesy pose as she opened her mouth wide as it would go. Again, she had to suppress a giggle at how adorable she was, and how funny. She noticed Ami was doing the same. Luckily, Rei didn't go to Juuban Junior High or she would have been chiding Usagi mercilessly — maybe even knocking her over so she missed the morsel and got a mouthful of dirt instead. It had happened before.

Without a disruptive Shinto shrine maiden around, Usagi got her savoury treat and chewed with relish, a hand covering her mouth as she moaned in pleasure. "Mmmm, oh that's so good…"

"You sound like you're getting laid whenever you eat," Naru sighed as she picked at her own bento of rice and umeboshi. Much simpler and less presentation than Makoto's, but she'd tried Naru's mother's cooking before and it was very good. Just simpler.

"I do not! Ami, I don't sound like that, do I?"

Blinking up from the book she had been casually reading between bites, Ami said, "What? Oh… well, how should I know what that sounds like?" Her cheeks took on a slight flush as she returned to the book, embarrassed at even being asked to discuss the topic at all.

"You do," Naru went on, a playful smile on her face. "And you and Makoto look like boyfriend and girlfriend, feeding each other."

"Hey!" Crossing her arms over her chest, she shot back, "I never feed Mako-chan! I mean, it's her food, so that would make no sense!"

"Never said both of you had to do it. And you didn't even pretend that I'm wrong, did ya?"

Flopping over onto her side, head landing in Makoto's lap, she cooed, "Like it would be that bad being Makoto's girlfriend. She's so tall and strong!"

"Careful, or the other students might take you seriously," Ami cautioned her, looking even more embarrassed than she had about asking to comment on the moans.

"Yeah," Naru goaded. "Wouldn't want that, would you? Yuri-no Usagi."

"I don't care," Usagi flung at both of them, pulling down her eyelid and sticking out her tongue. "Mako-chan and I are secure in our pretend relationship!"

Makoto giggled at how playful and hilarious they were together. Almost like a manzai comedy team; Naru was the straight man and Usagi clearly the silly one. Sometimes, she envied how close the two of them were; she'd never had a good friend like that. Even at her old school, her height and 'freakish' strength had put the other girls off wanting to hang around with her. Some of them were acquaintances, and the teachers liked her well enough, but being an orphan tended to make everyone who wasn't afraid of her treat her like a poor little wounded bird. And the junior high boys were never interested in a girl who was just as tall as them, if not taller.

Luckily, she happened upon Usagi about to become a part of someone's bumper and found herself a group of friends in Juuban, or it would have been the same thing all over again. Even now, she still heard whispers about her being kicked out of her old school for roughing up… someone. The 'someone' changed every time; a girl, a boy, a teacher, a policeman, the principal…

"Mako-chan? Are you okay?" A finger poked into her side. "Um… if you don't want to feed me, I can just…"

Her hand was twitching toward the chopsticks. Shaking away the deeper thoughts, she smiled. "Nah. I can- hang on, here." She nipped up a piece of narutomaki sushi for her, and Usagi's jaw popped open as if automatic.

"She's going to catch a few flies like that one day," Naru sighed. Usagi scowled, but was chewing as she did so.

                                                        ~ o ~

It wasn't long after that casual lunch that they got the class assignment. Cooking. Something Usagi couldn't do to save her life, despite how much she loved home economics. The instant she heard it, Makoto knew what would happen; she and Ami would do just fine, Naru would muddle through, and Usagi would put it off completely until the last second. And she had been right.

"Oh, there you are," was all she said when she opened the door to see the bun-headed blonde standing there with a wide, endearing smile. A couple of plastic shopping bags hanging from her wrists, laden down with ingredients — some of which might have even been the right ingredients.

"Yep! It's me! Can I come in?"

"Why?" Might as well tease her a little while she could.

"Mako-chaaaaan…" The pout was pretty extreme. Olympic-level. "I don't know how to make Italian food! I barely know how to make green tea rice, and mine's always too sticky! Be a pal? Be a chum, a bosom companion, a-"

"Alright, alright, enough. I'll help you." Rolling her eyes, she pushed the door wider. Usagi flashed her a grin before skipping inside and practically hopping out of her flats as she booked it to the kitchen. Makoto had no choice but to bump the door closed and follow.

"So cool that you have this place all to yourself," she was glowing as she set the bags down. At least she was beginning to lay the ingredients out, and not being entirely useless.

"Yeah, cool," Makoto sighed.

Once she had the bags wadded up in one hand, she turned around to see the slight frown on her friend's face, and her own excited expression slipped. "Oh… I mean, well, it is, but… I didn't mean to rub it in that you don't-"

"Forget it," she quickly cut her off. Not wanting to talk about her parents, to open up that can of pure pain. No amount of years passing could erase her loss. Still, no use moping now that so much time had passed; she would rather focus on the good things in her life. "Being a teenager living on my own is pretty great sometimes. Um… so, what dish were you supposed to make?"

But Usagi wasn't that easily distracted. Normally, yes, but not this time. Makoto sometimes could forget just how empathetic she was, even if she forgot less often than Rei or Luna. Glancing away at the stove, then back upward, she whispered, "Is it tough? Like, having nobody around? You seem to be doing pretty great, so I guess… I didn't-"

"Used to be hard," she interrupted, so Usagi wouldn't have to keep fumbling for words. Her hands started to sort through ingredients, to keep busy. "But I got used to it. And now I have the Senshi, and Naru and Luna, and… it's better now. Plus Motoki at the Game Center!"

"Oh, I know! He's a hunky guy, and a great friend. But you know, if you ever feel lonely…"

Nodding, she flashed her friend a little smile. "I'll call. Got all your house numbers by my phone." She nodded at the wall-mounted phone across the kitchen, with the little whiteboard showing the numbers for the Tsukino residence, the Shinto shrine, the Game Center, and the Mizuno residence. She didn't really know Naru well enough to ask for hers yet.

"Wow! You do, that's great! Sometimes I forget Naru's number even, and I don't have it written down because I'm a ditz, and always remember to do it when I don't have my address book. So I just end up calling for the Directory." Her faint blush about her own forgetfulness was too cute, and Makoto laughed, which ended up setting Usagi at ease, too. "But you're so organised, Mako-chan! I wish I could be like you!"

It was her turn to feel flattered. "Ahh, stop it. Anyway… what are we making?"

"Hm? Oh yeah, uh… lasagna? I think? Is that the one with the thin noodles and the, um…" Her hands made some kind of gesture that Makoto couldn't figure out, so she just shook her head and looked into the bag.

"Oh! Yes, you have lasagna noodles… and spaghetti noodles?"

"Well, the spaghetti noodles looked right, but those actually say 'lasagna' on them, so… I didn't know…" Her shoulders shrugged. "You're so much better at this stuff than I am. Better at fighting, and cooking, and even classes; maybe not some genius like Ami, but you have actual grades that aren't failing, which is way better than me…"

"Maybe so, but that doesn't mean you can't learn, Usa. Come here, look."

So she began instructing her friend in the ways of Italian cuisine. Really, she only had to tell her how to make lasagna, but she also explained about spaghetti and fettucine, and a few of the different types of sauces. She could tell Usagi was experiencing information overload, so eventually they took a break to get a couple of bottles of Calpis Soda and talk, leaning against the counter.

"I'll get this, I promise," Usagi said between swigs. "And maybe someday, I'll know something and I can teach that to you!"

"Someday you'll know something, huh?" she laughed. Usagi's ears burned, and she bumped her with her elbow. "It's alright. I like helping you, because you're so energetic. As long as it's not about homework."

"Ughhhh, homework." Then they both laughed. "You're going to make such a great mom. It's like, I can be as much of an airhead as possible and you don't care, you just… keep helping me. I don't deserve it."

That gave her a weird feeling. A great mom? She hadn't given it a lot of thought — mostly because she was still working on the finish-high-school-and-find-a-husband part. Leaning over again, she wrapped her arm around Usagi's shoulders. It was so easy to do, being that much taller than her. "Sure you do. Come on, don't be so down on yourself; you can cook! I know you can!"

Both of her arms slithered around Makoto's stomach. This feeling was a completely different kind of weird; it felt so easy, having her fitted up against her that way. Being almost a head taller was part of that, but it was also that she was petite, and cute, and sweet. And her shampoo smelled nice…

"Maybe. But thanks for helping, either way. At least I'll pass this assignment. And then I can worry about math! Bluuugh, why does it never end?!"

"Math can wait." Nuzzling her hair, Makoto said, "Tell you what. Let's work on this lasagna. After that, I'll get out the Famicom and we can see if it still works. Sound like a plan?"

The squeeze and squeal Usagi gave her made her laugh. "Mmm, thank you, Mako-chan! You always know exactly how to get me motivated!" When she didn't let go after a second or two, Usagi pulled her head back just enough to look up at her. "Mako-chan?"

"Hm?"

"Um…" Her cheeks turned a little redder. "You like hugging me, huh? Not that I'm complaining! Just, y'know… I thought you wanted to get started on the lasagna."

She had a point: Makoto had been holding onto her for a minute or so, at least. Longer than was normal for friends. Why did she feel so comfortable with Usagi there? Like she was her little doting wife. A comical vision of the two of them in domesticated bliss swam into her mind; coming home every day to Usagi wearing an apron, apologising for burning a hole through one of her shirts while doing the ironing. The thought made her chuckle, and she kissed Usagi's head, prompting a little squeak of surprise.

"Let's do it. I'll be the chef husband, and you be the poor sheltered wife who has to learn how to cook. We'll make a game out of it."

"Ohhhhhh, yes!" she giggled at once. "I like that! You know how much I love games!"

"Me, too! And Motoki can probably back that up, as often as we're down at the Game Center."

"Yeah!" Hopping back a step, she placed her fists on her hips and crowed in her usual superhero voice, "This is a job for Sailor Moon! Wait, I mean…" Her hands went to the side of her face as she tilted her head, popping one foot up and cooing, "Yes, dear! Help me learn how to take better care of you!"

"Of course, my honey!" Makoto said in a slightly deeper voice, and they both burst into fresh giggles at that. Then she put her hand at her chin, as she could remember her father doing often when she was younger. "Hmm, we should start with having all the ingredients ready."

"Goodness! I hope I can find them all!" Then she said in a stage-whisper, "Hey, I need an apron to really look like the housewife!"

"Right!" she whispered back. "Hang on, I got an extra one…"

Makoto ended up finding a more 'manly' cook's apron, so she put that on herself and gave Usagi the cute, frilly pink one she had already been wearing. The game continued as they readied ingredients, started combining them and put the lasagna in the pan, and Usagi played her part so well that Makoto found herself forgetting that she wasn't usually this doting and submissive.

Speaking of which… it was interesting that she chose to play such a submissive stereotype of a housewife, when she knew that Mrs. Tsukino definitely wasn't like that. Truly an independent mom of the Nineties! But the frequent flutterings of eyelashes, and the way Usagi would theatrically touch her face and say "oopsie" whenever she made a mistake were straight out of an American sitcom from the 1950s. Maybe she should try out for the drama club when they got to high school.

"Good work, little wife," Makoto told her in a hearty tone as she hugged around her shoulders again. That had happened often; if it wasn't her doing that, it was Usagi draping herself over her side. "We have made a fine lasagna!"

"My strong husband taught me how!" They both laughed again. Really, they sounded more like someone's grandparents than any modern husband and wife.

Then Usagi kissed her cheek. She had to lean up to do it, standing on her tippy-toes and neck stretching out, but she managed. It stunned Makoto enough that she almost broke character, but at the last second she managed to let out a gruff little hum. "Oh, s-stop it, sweetheart. You're embarrassing me!"

"Oh, men don't get embarrassed, they just get stronger!" When Makoto snorted, Usagi lost it, falling back onto the floor and rolling around with laughter until Makoto gave her a gentle kick in the butt to get her to quit. "Oh! Oh God, that's hilarious!"

"Real wives don't say their husbands are hilarious," she giggled, dropping the persona for the moment. It was kind of relief; she was trying to figure out how she felt about being kissed by Usagi. It wasn't a big deal, just a little cheek kiss. Totally normal between friends! So why did she feel so weird about it?

After a few seconds, Usagi popped up again, face reddish from all the laughing and wiping tears from her eyes. When she noticed Makoto wasn't doing anything besides leaning back against the counter, she blinked a few times, waiting for her to acknowledge her. It didn't happen; she was too preoccupied with her thoughts. After another few seconds, she slid her arms around her waist again, fluttering her eyelashes up at her.

"Husband, I need to know how to bake the lasagna. I'm helpless without you."

Now her heart was racing, trying to beat out of her chest as she gazed down at Usagi's sweet face. Maybe her mind was playing tricks on her, but she really thought a lot of that affection was genuine… not just a product of their silly fantasy. Usagi really was helpless without her. From the first time she saved her life to the many moments since, that theme kept popping up. Not that she minded. Out of anyone she'd ever known, she liked taking care of the tiny blonde ditz the most.

But it wasn't just that. Raising her hand to cup Usagi's cheek, she said in her deeper voice, "You aren't helpless, little wife. It is I who need you. Without your love, your tenderness… I am alone in this world."

The sincerity must have shone through the joking words, because Usagi's clear blue eyes widened, and she was working hard to swallow. Hands came up to shove her away, and they did push a little at first, but then simply rested on Makoto's shoulders. "I… w-well, I don't… want to leave you alone, my husband." Then a quiet giggle fell out of her lips, clearly shakier than usual, and she whispered, "Wow, you're pretty smooth, Mako-chan. I wish Tuxedo Mask would talk to me the way you do…"

"I know! He reminds me so much of my old boyfriend…" When she pet Usagi's cheek, she leaned into the touch, eyes half-closing. A thought struck her: Usagi was somehow even prettier when she was given over to a moment like that. A true princess. But this was a moment between two best friends, fellow Senshi! Maybe it was time they rethought the terms of their game. "Want me to stop, Usa-chan? I mean, I don't know what I'm doing…"

"N-nah. It's nice to pretend… I guess…"

"It is?"

"Yeah. I mean, um, as long as you're not uncomfortable or anything! We can stop… if you are…"

Makoto nodded, cleared her throat, and gripped the back of Usagi's neck. Instantly, she went still, eyes flying open again. It shot a chill into the pit of her stomach, but she ignored that and cleared her throat, speaking in her 'manly' voice again. "From the moment I saw you, I knew we were destined to be together. For you to be my bride!"

"Yes, my husband! My love!" The hands flexed on her lapels, then began petting up and down. "I have always been yours! Your strength gives me life!"

"Ah!" She dipped her, and the next giggle of pure joy from Usagi was definitely not acting. "How can a man resist such a… a goddess?!" The word came to her at the last second.

"Then do not resist any longer, Prince Mako! Kiss me and claim me again!"

So Makoto kissed her. It was supposed to be a silly one, and she dipped the smaller woman lower and waggled her head from side to side for comedic effect, making Usagi flail and laugh.

But she also kissed back. And after the first second or two, it stopped being a game. The "mmm-mmm!" noises faded into honest sighs, tightly-closed lips softened and parted slightly. Two hands slid up to cup either side of her neck, and the one she had wrapped around Usagi's waist clung more tightly. It was sweet. It was more than sweet: it was inflaming. The small form resting gently in her grasp was a welcome weight, and the mouth a portal to a world of sweetness and light that she had never even glimpsed before. All from a source she had never expected.

With no way of knowing how long they were locked together like that, they slowly parted, faces flushed and lips swollen. Usagi's crystalline eyes were completely glazed over when she looked down into them, unable to focus or to ask why they had done what they did. Makoto didn't know, either, so what was she supposed to say?

"Mako-chan…"

"Usa… I…" She cleared her throat and deepened her voice. "My sweet wife, I find you so irresistible."

"Really? You do?"

"Of course. We are married, and I wish to keep our marriage burning bright as a star!"

Usagi let out a quiet titter, bashful but smiling. "Thank you, husband." Another little kiss before she bit her lip, looking away shyly. Her whisper was sweet as her lips; "I've… never kissed anyone before… not really. But you must have kissed a lot of boys, you're so good at it…"

"I guess," she agreed, now acutely aware that they weren't playing anymore. And she was still holding Usagi.

"N-not that I mean like, that you're a skank! Just… you have experience, and I don't, so I was probably really terrible…"

That made her draw her up closer, out of the dip so that she was standing in front of her again. Toes were on top of her own, Usagi trying to make herself taller so their faces were closer, and she wrapped both arms tightly around her back to help in supporting her.

"You were great. Perfect, I mean… just like a wife. I guess. I've never had a wife before, either, so…"

"Anybody would be lucky to be your wife! I mean, you're so strong and caring like a man, but soft and thoughtful like a woman, and you can totally cook, and… a-and that was an incredible kiss!"

"Well… I could… do it again… if you wanted." Usagi looked even shyer, which she didn't think was possible given how shy she had looked a moment before that. "Or not! Y'know, I don't want to, um, make you feel weird…"

They were both silent for a moment. Usagi boosting herself by standing on Makoto's feet, she managed to start the kiss herself this time. It lasted even longer, ending with her eventually plopping the shorter girl's rear onto the countertop so that they could better reach each other's lips without straining. Hands slid up backs, soft moans sounded between them. Legs gently wrapped around her hips to keep her close. And as long as it went on, she only wanted more, and for it to go on eternally.

"AAAH!" Usagi squealed once they parted, hiding her burning face in her hands. "I can't believe we did that! And it was SO GOOD!"

"Y-yeah, it was!" Scratching the back of her neck, she looked away to try to hide her giddy smile. "Usa-chan, I didn't think… well, I mean, this is just crazy! I've always seen myself growing up to be the housewife, not to find one of my own!"

A little hum floated out of Usagi as she thrashed from side to side, clearly past worrying and into the excited phase of her reaction. "I'm your housewife, I'm your housewife! Oh, I'm so happy!" Then her eyes flew open. "How am I going to tell my parents? Or the rest of the team? Oh, they'll be okay with it, they always joke about that, anyway…"

"We'll figure it out," she chuckled, leaning up to nuzzle Usagi's face. She nuzzled back, and they shared another quick peck that threatened to turn into more. "Oh wow, that's so easy to get started!"

"I know! How did it take us this long to try it? I always…" Usagi's voice got a little quieter as she raised a finger, tracing over one of Makoto's ever-present rosebud earrings fondly. "U-um, well, I hope you don't think this is weird but I've kind of thought about it before, once or twice. But it wasn't in a serious way! Just, y'know… you're so tall, and cool, and I liked it when you fed me… that's probably dumb."

"It's not dumb! I mean, sometimes I would think that it was nice taking care of you with you being so sweet and small, too, but I told myself I was overthinking it." Throwing back her head to laugh, Makoto cawed, "Guess we were just big ol' lesbians all along!"

"I guess so!"

They both laughed for a long time about that, letting the emotions explode instead of trying to bottle them up. It took way longer to get the lasagna started than they planned, but they managed it eventually. Not that either of them minded.

"Now that it's baking, husband," Usagi began as she dragged her toward the living room, "you should come relax for a while. Let me take care of you."

"Alright, alright," she laughed. Then in her deeper voice, "My wife must rub my feet and light my cigarette, and then I will give her pocket money to buy a nice mink tomorrow."

They giggled as Usagi settled Makoto in the comfy armchair. She had worked hard to make her living room welcoming, hoping that if anyone besides her old best friend Tomoko ever visited, they might feel at home enough to come back one day. Hence the squashy furniture, soft rug under the coffee table, and the many, many plants under the windows. It felt weird for her guest to be the one doting on her, but it was part of the game, after all.

"Where do you keep your cigarettes?" she goaded, causing Motoko to snort. "Or can I bring you a can of Sapporo?"

"Just the cigarette, wife. They're in the fridge." They were only chocolate ones, anyway. When Usagi came back and popped one between her lips, then mimed like she was lighting it, she mimed taking a few puffs and then took it out to blow outward. "Phoo! Ahh, yes, very smooth and relaxing."

"Just as you deserve." She sat on the ottoman and picked up one of Motoko's legs. By the time she figured out what she was trying to do, it was already too late to head her off.

"Oh!" she gasped when she felt thumbs digging into the sole of her foot. "Usa-chan, I was kidding, you don't… mmm, that really is nice, though…"

"You've had such a hard day at work." Usagi hesitated for a moment, then improvised, "A chef with his own kitchen spends all day standing, and needs a wife to help soothe his aches, right?"

"Ohhhh, yeah…" It was more of a moan than a real answer, and Usagi giggled to hear how much her massage was working on her 'playmate'. It was also cute how she was adding to the backstory of their little game. After a few seconds of recovery, relaxing into the gentle sensation, she puffed on the cigarette again. "Wife, you… have made your husband quite happy today. If your dinner is delicious, then you will win the 'Best Wife' award!"

Her voice was so bubbly as she whispered, "Oh, if only I could achieve that dream!" that Mako couldn't suppress a titter. She rubbed for another minute or so, watching her pretend spouse eventually tire of pretending to smoke and eating the candy cigarette. Completely relaxing from the massage. Really, she would have paid Usagi to do this part for her; she might consider it, now that she knew how wonderful it felt.

Sometime after switching to the other foot, her "wife" whispered, "Mako-chan…"

"Hm?"

"I'm having a lot of fun today. Like, I know I just came over for help with home ec, but even without the kissing, it's been really nice. And I wouldn't mind trying it again someday, when we're not busy."

The sentiment touched Makoto more than she wanted to admit. It was nice having a friend so close — especially one she might be able to kiss now and then. Definitely a fringe benefit. But it felt too heavy and serious to respond to Usagi's words directly for some reason. So instead, she merely said, "You wouldn't mind coming by to cook and rub my feet? That's weird. You can come by and not do that."

"Yeah, I know." A playful smile in place, she moved to the side and knelt on the floor seiza-style, performing an ultra-low saikeirei bow with her hands in front of her knees, forehead nearly touching the rug. "I humbly apologise for my weirdness, master of my house."

The thrill that shot through Makoto was so profound that she felt her stomach tie into a knot, her heart beat faster. She both felt highly flattered and definitely wanted Usagi to stop debasing herself in such a way. "Usa… c'mon, you d-don't have to do that."

"But I want to, husband." Her face moved to one side, pressing soft lips into the tops of Jupiter's toes. She got in two or three kisses before she could jerk out of range, scrunching them to try and rid herself of the vaguely pleasant sensation. Now they were both flushed and embarrassed. "I want to please you."

"Y-you can please me by coming up here and sitting on my lap," she said with a slight stutter, face reddening further. "Before I faint or something!"

Smiling sweetly, Usagi stood and giggled for a moment about the whole situation. Then she turned and landed her warm rump on one of Makoto's thighs. She tried not to think about how nice that felt as she reached up and took either side of Usagi's neck with her hands, beginning to knead.

"Ooohh… oh, Mako-chan, that feels great…"

"A husband must take care of his wife, as well. Or what kind of husband would he be?"

The longer it went on, the sounds coming from Usagi's throat and the feeling of the muscles relaxing under her strong grip, the wriggling of the soft, padded hindquarters on her lap, made her want to kiss her again. Maybe for longer than a few paltry minutes… maybe more than just kiss her. Surprising how quickly she was getting used to this idea.

"Usa-chan, I…" Instead of finishing the thought, she kissed the shell of her cute little ear, and heard a quiet cooing in return. So she did it again. This was literally the most romantic moment of her life, and it was with another girl — one with whom she fought against the forces of evil on a weekly basis. Cute little bundle of blondeness, sweet, doting when she wanted to be doting…

"You're so… fantastic at this…" Her throat cleared; at least she was having trouble talking, too, and it wasn't just Makoto's problem. "And I never finished your other foot…"

"You didn't have to get to the first one," she told her in no uncertain terms. "I just like helping you cook. That would have been enough, and like… everything else is a bonus. That includes how nice your butt feels."

"You like that?" Her hips wiggled from side to side again, and Mako bit her lip to keep from groaning. "Hmm. I thought I noticed you checking out Ami's butt once before."

She had to head off that line of questioning, so she redoubled her efforts. There was a low purr from her thumb hitting a particularly stubborn knot, and Makoto had to ignore her own visceral response and stay focused on the task at hand. "You're still a little tense. Is it not good?"

"Mmmm, no way, Mako-chan… you're incredible. Can we kiss again?"

Makoto's green eyes twinkled with amusement. "My lips or my toes? You seemed to be into that."

"Either one…" When Makoto leaned over to gape at her, alarmed that she took her joke as being remotely serious, she ducked her head in slight shame.

"Usa-chan, I'm…" Her toes scrunched against the rug subconsciously. "But that's so weird! I m-mean… why?"

"W-well, it really felt right in the role! Y'know, worshipping my strong husband?"

"Yeah, I don't know a lot of housewives who actually kiss their husbands' feet! Just saying!"

"Maybe because their husbands don't have feet as cute as yours! I dunno!"

At that, Makoto had to scoff, even though her cheeks were burning with embarrassment. "N-nah, come on. Thanks for trying, but I know mine are huge and awful. Like the rest of me."

"Hey! Don't say that, you're perfect just the way you are! Like a supermodel! Even your feet are supermodel feet; so much sexier than my stubby toes!" Clearing her throat, Usagi rushed on ahead so Makoto wouldn't question that too deeply. "B-but, um, I'd definitely rather kiss your lips; those are… s-so sweet, and your arms are strong, and you always smell like perfume… I just can't handle myself around you."

Still trying to wrap her mind around what "sexy supermodel toes" was supposed to mean, Makoto shook her head and laughed before she kissed the back of Usagi's neck. "Then maybe I'll keep handling you. Would that help?" The resulting high-pitched squeal made her giggle more. "I'll take that as a 'yes'. Wow, this is crazy!"

"Mmm, it is! But… I think… I could really get used to it. Having this with you. I mean, as long as you really think I'm worth doing this stuff with; you could probably do way better. With girls or guys!"

Swallowing down her nerves, she turned Usagi in her lap, one arm looping around her lower back and hand resting on her hip as the other one came up to caress her slender neck, fingertips rustling the wispy blonde hairs at the nape that weren't pulled up into her long twintails. It was such a possessive gesture that they both had to look away for a moment, but then she spoke to call Usagi back to the present. To tell her how wrong she was about the way she saw herself.

"My beautiful, sweet, delicious little wife deserves the best. And if she thinks that's me, then… I'm all yours."

"Mako-chan, my husband…"

The lasagna almost burned, they were so wrapped up in each other, and even once they hastily pulled it out of the oven it was quite a while before they logged some Famicom time. Delays due to "playing house" were about to become a regular part of their routine.

                                                        THE END

                                                      [next: Minako!]

[thequillandthecrayons-blog]

I Was "That" Groomed Girl (Tale of Sexual Assault: Part 1)

I was eighteen-years-old when I started my career as a 911 Dispatcher for the local Sheriff's Office.

Bright-eyed and fresh out of high school,

I had my own apartment, my own car, a great job, friends, I was taking classes through the local community college, and I was enjoying my very first - and completely innocent - romance. He was a cop four years my senior, my neighbor, and classically handsome. We spent every waking hour of the day together and I was convinced he was "the one". The night he kissed me for the first time, stars didn't leave my eyes for days. I was in love and the world was my oyster.

It was during this idyllic time that I first met J. He was a deputy in our county, but in the next town over (about an hour away). He was 32-years-old, married, and a father of two young children. J was a tall, burly man, but it was offset by his charming, boyish, good looks, and his charisma. If a small town's beloved football quarterback grew up and became a cop, you would have an idea of the kind of charisma he had. He was everybody's friend and on the couple of occasions we had met at work events, he made it a point to say hi to the "new kid" and make me laugh with a witty comment or joke.

I recognize now that he was grooming me. But I was barely a woman and still a virgin. My contact with men had been extremely limited growing up in an isolated, rural town and being a fat girl to boot. I had never had a reason to feel unsafe or uncomfortable in a sexual manner for any reason up to that point.

When I was required to start going on ride-a-longs on the other side of the county as part of my job training (to get familiar with the areas I was dispatching deputies, fire, and EMS personnel to), he was a natural choice of the three options I had to escort me. I went on two and both times he was a perfect gentleman. We had lunch with his beautiful family at a popular local restaurant once. He shared interesting facts about the town's residents, stories about previous calls he had been, and amusing anecdotes about interactions between himself and their town's police department. He showed genuine interest in me and while it made me feel special, smart, and interesting in his company, I never felt threatened by the attention either. He was a married man after all... and all the married men in my life were honorable.

My mandated ride-a-longs stopped when my hours were completed and we said our goodbyes on good terms. He even asked for my number so he could call and make sure I got home safely as the mountain roads between our towns are known to be hazardous, especially at night.

And that's when the phone calls began.

At first, J called into the Sheriff's Office on the only unrecorded line there when he knew I was working. It seemed innocent enough. "Hey kid. How's your night going?" We would chat for a couple minutes as I asked about his family and his night and that was the end of it. I thought it was incredibly thoughtful of him to be checking in as I was the youngest dispatcher they had ever hired and it was a high pressure job.

My best friend at the time was 10yrs older than myself and a fellow dispatcher. She teased me mercilessly about the fact that I was waiting for the right person and hadn't had sex at the time. But respected my choice overall and encouraged me to explore my sexuality in solo ways that I felt comfortable with. There was no way I was going to rent porn at our local video store and back in those days, "on demand" didn't exist. I knew she had an extensive collection herself so I asked to borrow a few videos. I made arrangements to pick them up from her at our mutual place of employment as she lived several miles out of town at the time.

The night I stopped by, J just happened to be in town. He caught me in the parking lot as I was leaving and asked what I was doing there. I laughed nervously and tried to dodge the question, but he pressed and so I sheepishly admitted I was borrowing porn from T, who had a reputation for being extremely open about those things. That was, apparently, the open door that he was waiting to take advantage of. He made a comment to the effect of "let me know how it goes! and winked. I uncomfortably laughed and replied, "Yeah, okay!" with zero intention of following through.

It was around 11pm when he called me later that night. I don't know how he got my number although I'm guessing he copied it from the employee phone list posted in dispatch headquarters while he was there earlier that evening.

I was watching the video and didn't recognize the number calling that late. Concerned it was an emergency regarding my family, I answered, and was surprised and uncomfortable to hear J's voice on the other end of the line. I don't remember exactly what I said, but I remember the stunned horror that flooded my heart and mind as he started speaking. I remember him telling me how hard his cock was whenever he started thinking about me. He wanted to know if I was watching the video yet and if I was going to rub my clit with my fingers until I came or if I was going to "fuck [myself]" with a dildo.

I was speechless and in disbelief. My mind was rejecting the entire situation as reality while I was simultaneously disgusted and angry, but also darkly flattered. It was the first time a man had ever been vocal and forceful about his physical attraction in that way. The fact that he was married made it seem like an even bigger twisted compliment to my non-existent self-esteem and naive, not-yet-a-woman self.

I don't remember what I said that not to get him off the phone, but I was nauseous and shaky as I hung up. I vowed to put the entire incident behind me - surely it was my fault for leading him to believe I was open to a sexual relationship with him, right?

I screened his calls on my private number that started coming in after that, but I was forced to answer the Safe House line at work. There was dread in my stomach every time the phone rang as I waited to see if it was him calling again. Begging me to meet him so he could "fuck [me]" and show me how a "real man" does it. There were various versions of this but it was all a part of the same mission: wearing me down. And it was working to the extent that he was in my head. Surely if I was being forceful enough in my rejections he would have backed off by now, right? Plus, there was that one tiny part of me that was curious and flattered... a young woman indirectly waking to her own sexuality because of this attention. It was a powerful feeling even though I held fast to my position of, "No! This is NOT happening."

After several months of this, I finally agreed to meet him after work one night. I couldn't get a hold of my best friend, T, to tell me what to do. It was the middle of the night and I had just spent my entire shift working with him, which meant fielding calls from HIM on the unrecorded line between service calls. I was convinced that he just needed to be able to see me face-to-face so he would understand how serious I was about NO being my final answer.

I pulled up at the designated spot around 1am. It was a pull out off the side of the road about halfway between our towns. He was already waiting there in his patrol vehicle.

I got in on the passenger side and spent the next 5 or 10 minutes explaining to him in no uncertain terms that I was not willing to engage in an affair under any circumstances with a married man, that I was a proud, card-carrying member of the "V Club" (as it was called in those days), and that I was waiting for marriage.

He spent the next 5 or 10 minutes explaining that I was a goddess. That I was the sexiest woman on the planet. That he couldn't even be with his wife without imagining my face and my body anymore.

I hated him for making me curious about something that contradicted my values in that moment. But his words were heady stuff and he had been pursuing me for months.

So when he asked if he could just see my breasts once before I left, I thought, what's the harm?

I got two buttons down on my sleeveless v-neck shirt before reason and sanity returned. I panicked and grabbed my purse and as I was scrambling out of the vehicle I vaguely heard the door open on his side over the blood rushing to my head as the adrenaline kicked on and I said, "I'm sorry, I can't do this".

I was halfway to my car when he grabbed me from behind.

To be continued...

[squaredancing-weston]

text || Brobastian (Week 2)

Bas: How about a mirror? I mean, I did tell you - it's a kink. Besides, there's nothing hotter than watching myself getting fucked - I can only imagine it'd be even hotter to see the tease. It's not often that I get to see what I look like with someone grinding into me and marking me up - dragging all sorts of sinful noises from me. That being said, still not a fan of getting no relief from this scenario. Not even a hand? Come on. I can handle that, at least. Glad you admit it - I mean, I know my willpower is pretty damn impressive, but it's been /two weeks/. I just need someone to fuck me into the mattress at this point.

Bas:[unsent] Fuck - this is /not/ helping.

Bas: How about things that are /actually/ funny? Seriously, if I have to hold your hand during your "comedic" routine, it's a sign that you need to give it up entirely. Actually, I've been having a musical marathon - although I've yet to stay awake during a full movie, but I'm getting closer. What, you have? Seriously? Two weeks? I can't even remember the last time I went a week. What else do you do on a Friday night? Hey, I'd rather quality. If Blaine and Hunter want to volunteer, then they're more than welcome.

Bas: Maybe it'll give me that extra kick of adrenaline that I need, Brodes. I can't believe you won't help me out here. I'm sure Blaine has a few kinks of his own. It's always the innocent ones, right? Guy could probably pull out some tricks that would surprise you. Really, Brodes? Necrophilia? You're really grasping at straws now, aren't you?

Bas: I know what a good ass looks like. I have a mirror.

Bas: You jest - but you'll see. I'll be back soon - don't worry your pretty little head about it. Hey, if I need to play it up to get to stare at my supposedly hot sub's ass all day, then I might as well. If my class is getting exposed to Julia Roberts, then the IQ drop might be worse than I thought it'd be.

Brody: That is true-- but I mean, can you fuck against a mirror? I feel like it would get all smudgy with a body basically rammed up against it, and no matter which way you're facing, you want really be able to see much of yourself, you know? So then you have to find a way to back up to get a proper view, but then you're not pressed up against anything but a hardbody and his dick, basically rutting you from the side-- because he wouldn't want to stimulate anything //just// yet, you know? So I mean, ass grabbing, absolutely-- like digging his nails in your concave backside for sure, kind of stretching it to get that exposure that your body fucking /knows/ means it's coming-- I mean, to the point that you're basically trying to grind up to get //something// on there, but since he's not directly behind you, and his hand's just barely too high, no dice, you know? And it's not like his tongue's going to be any use at this point, because like we said-- he's just basically using your shoulders and neck like a chew toy. I mean, you're basically going to be spotted by the end of this. And no, Bas-- you //don't// get a hand, because your body can't handle the exertion. That's why you're on bedrest, even though the guy you're with apparently only respects that to the point that he's holding you up so you're not technically bearing much of your own weight really. So that means your cock is fucking stiff and hard and just aching because you can feel what you want is //so// close, and your hole is just clenched because it wants to bear down on fucking //anything//. But you still have to wait-- that's how the game works. Oh yeah-- I mean, I appreciate you making sacrifices for my frailty-- now I'm just doing the same, you know? Well, maybe when you've been cleared to get //off// of the mattress, someone will agree to fuck you //into// it. Well not that one-- I'd pick a mattress with clean sheets.

Brody: [unsent] this is fun. I mean-- hot-- but mostly fun. I mean, I know it should be unbelievably awkward for a shit load of reasons, and I know we're //never// having sex again, but man I missed this.

Brody: I think quite a few people would agree that mocking your sudden kharmic celibacy //is// pretty damn hilarious. But I did offer to tweak the material if you wanted-- you're the one that refused because you don't want to put any effort into thinking of something funny.

Brody: Oh yeah? That actually sounds pretty awesome. How many times have you watched the hyenas' Nazi march then? I'd offer to throw some diversity into your collection, but most of mine is Disney, which I'm guessing you have, Rogers and Hammerstein, which I'm guessing you don't want, or ballet, which I'm not sure how you feel about that in your current state, honestly. I'm guessing it'd probably get you asleep faster. Have I gone two weeks without sex? Of course I have-- I have standards. Also, when I first moved here, I was in a bit of a funk, so Newbie Brody was also Celibate Brody until he finally started making friends. I mean, I could get myself off, so I wasn't in as bad of shape as you are, but you get the idea. You realize that just because you go out doesn't mean you //have// to hook up, right? I've gone home alone and been okay with it. Well, for SB's sake, I'd suggest you wait until he's actually made his move with Hunter-- you kind of owe him that much. Then you can try to insert yourself in there.

Brody: You don't need adrenaline, moron-- that's why those moms who lift cars to save their kids die of like a heart attack five minutes later. You need rest. And under no circumstances am I having sex with a sick guy-- that is just weird, and I refuse to do it. I mean, seriously-- would you? How can Blaine have kinks-- the guy doesn't even have a favorite sex position. I mean, maybe he can //do// them, but he can't //have// them if he doesn't have a favorite. Hey, //you// said Mountain-- I could bring up how you're so sexually frustrated you want to be mercilessly ass-raped to death, but that makes me sad for you.

Brody: So Blaine's hanging around a lot then? I mean, are you purposely angling him so you can get a good look, or...?[txt] Hey no joke-- I hope I'm wrong. I hope Dr. McMediocre Face says you're good to go and sends you back. It's quiet around here sometimes, and there's no one to mock between classes. I'd just rather not mock a guy that looks like he's about to keel over-- that sounds mean. Hey, if you don't like it, you're more than welcome to send her my way as an aide. I will gladly find ways to have her do something that doesn't involve reminding me that she's dim as sum. Well, just think-- at least they're not learning the //wrong// information, so you won't have to scoop all that out and rewire them?

[a-smilethat-explodes]

Chapter 24- She needs you

I was sleeping peacefully, out to the word as usual, hours before I usually even considered waking, when my cell phone went off on my nightstand. I rolled over as it rang again and blearily caught sight of my alarm clock. 8:30 AM? I groaned loudly and Jake answered back with one of his own. Who would be calling me at this ungodly hour? I checked the caller ID. Video Warehouse. I put on my most awake and professional voice. "Yeah." I mumbled as an answer.

"Erik? Paul." Paul barked back. Why the hell was Paul calling me at 8:30 in the morning? "I'm calling to tell you not to come to work today, the window is going to be repaired, and it will be impossible for anyone to come in to pick a movie in peace."

"Okay." I mumbled.

"Bye," he hung up.

"Zzz that?" Jake mumbled from his bed. I took the mumble to be, "Who was that?"

"Don't wake me today, I don't have work." I mumbled back, rolled over, and then went back to sleep. When I awoke, the apartment was silent. A rarity in itself. I lay in bed, revealing in the strange noise. I lifted my head… Jake's bed was empty. He must've been at work. Adam and Ben were probably in class or working too. I slowly sat up and dug a hand into my hair, scratching my head as I yawned.

At first I enjoyed the silence. Silence compared to Jake, who can't stand silence so he either walks around making noise or has the TV on really loud, was better. But it quickly started to get to me. I turned on the X-Box just to keep myself from going crazy and to keep myself occupied.

Finally, two hours into X Box, the guys returned. "So this is what you do with your day off?" Adam asked dryly as he and Jake entered the apartment later. Girls trailed them. Great.

"Where you guys been?" I mumbled back, gunning down another dude.

"Play me, bitch!" Jake said as usual as he sat down next to me, punching my shoulder as he came down.

"Just a sec." I mumbled back.

"Jake!" the girl pouted, sounding as though she thought he was neglecting her.

"You can sit next to me and cheer me on, baby." Jake grabbed her hand and pulled her down on the couch.

"Okay," she pouted. I rolled my eyes and wondered how long this one was going to last. Probably long enough for a "wham, bam, thank you, ma'am," on Jake's behalf.

Jae laughed and I yelped in anger as I died. "Let's play." I finally took a look at Jake's new girlfriend.

She saw me looking and smiled slowly back at me. Was she flirting with me? She winked as she slowly licked her lips. Yes. I didn't know whether to laugh, because who considers that crap flirting, or to roll my eyes, since it meant that Jake had picked another winner. I started counting the days until Jake dumped her (which usually happened when either a) she wasn't good in bed, b) she was clingy, or c) she started to move her stuff into our room). "I'm Angela," she leaned across Jake, giving me a clear view down her shirt, and offered her hand.

Unlike with Alexandra, who I was actually attracted to and had, in a moment of weakness, actually looked down her shirt, I merely forced a half smile coolly back and replied, "I'm Erik."

"Good to know," she grinned lazily at me. Of course Jake didn't notice, he was too busying telling me he was going to get the Ferrari before I did so that he could kick my ass.

After a game of X-Box (I won, naturally, even without the Ferrari. Jake pouted), I grew tired of being the fifth wheel so I got up and went into my room to study. I shut the door behind me, blocking out the X-Box so I could hear my stereo.

A little while later, Jake ambled in, shut the door, and peeled off his t-shirt. "How come you aren't working for once?" he asked me, digging through the clothes on the floor.

"Somebody threw a brick and broke one of the windows at the store." I replied, watching him pick up another shirt, sniff it, and then make a face. "That's disgusting, dude. Paul was getting it fixed today, the noise would've scared off customers, so he just gave me it off." I looked down, highlighted a key point in my book, and then looked up again. "Where did you get the hoes?" I asked him.

"We met them at the store," he replied, not even denying that they were hoes. Nothing like Jake for a little frank honesty. "She needed help carrying something out to her car," he smirked knowingly at me, which I took to mean that "she'd needed something carried to her car" meant "she played damsel in distress to get me to hit on her."

"Nothing like love in the air among shopping carts and bags of groceries." I deadpanned back with a smirk.

"Jealous," he sniffed before making the mistake of opening our closet door.

"No-!" I began, abandoning my books without a care as I jumped up, trying to stop him.

Too late. Half the shit piled up in there began to fall out. "Shit," he muttered, trying to catch it quickly.

"We gotta clean up." I muttered as I hurried over and helped him push it back in (someday we'd get organized… yeah right). We pushed the random clothes, basketballs, footballs, baseballs, magazines, a few bottles of alcohol (Jake's private stash), a guitar case, and other various things back down to the floor.

Once that was done, he relaxed and began flipping through the handful of shirts we'd actually bothered to hang up as I sat back down on the bed. He dug through the clothes, decided on a blue and white striped collared shirt, and then smirked at me as he said, "We're taking them out tonight."

I knew what that statement meant, I wasn't stupid. Jake was going to try to nail her tonight. "Come on, dude, not tonight…" I complained, thinking of the lumpy couch I'd have to sleep on while he and the hoe slept in his bed.

"Dude, you need yourself a lady," he stopped buttoning up his shirt to raise an eyebrow at me.

"I have a lady." I snapped back testily (I get that way when I'm faced with a crappy, sleepless night).

Instead of jumping on that and mercilessly teasing me as usual, he paused again, but this time he was clearly uncomfortable. "Christine?" he asked me, voice uncharacteristically quiet.

"Yeah." I mumbled back, rubbing the back of my neck to avoid his eyes and the weird tension that had suddenly fallen over us.

"Huh." Jake grunted then lunged across the room as he ordered, "Let me use your cologne!"

"Jake!" I shouted as I lunged as well, trying to grab it from him but he was too fast. "Dude, come on, that shit's expensive!"

"Well then let it work its magic just this once tonight," he said as he sprayed himself then patted me on the head like I was one of his little brothers. Ass. "Bye sweetie, don't wait up!" he sang as he left the room. I heard the girls giggle and rolled my eyes with a smirk of my own.

The following night, after a bland shift at Red Rooster, I came home to an empty apartment again. While I was glad they weren't here partying and making a mess, at least when they were here, it wasn't so damn quiet.

I stared around the empty apartment and contemplated who I could call. Usually I'd call Cassie… I sighed. I hated fighting with Cassie. I knew she wasn't about to call and apologize but I couldn't find a way to call her myself. It was going to be awkward, no questions asked, but I couldn't bring myself to call. I missed her; nonetheless… we'd been best friends since the dawn of time, who wouldn't miss her?

I sat down on the couch and turned on the TV, watching it listlessly. I needed some more friends or something, sitting by myself in the apartment on a Friday night was hardly-

My cell phone went off. I eagerly pulled it out, dying for someone to hang out with. It was just Adam. "Hello." I answered, trying to mask my disappointment.

"Hey dude, it's Adam," he shouted over the noise of wherever he was.

"What's up?" I asked suspiciously. If he was calling me to be designated driver and pick them up from some stupid party, I wasn't gonna be happy-

"Hey, Cassie Franklin… you're pretty good friends with her, right?" he asked me cautiously.

"Yeah…" I answered slowly, sitting up on the couch. Why would he be calling about-?

"Dude, get over here. We're at a house party and I just saw her with this guy, dead drunk," he shouted back. "She looked pretty fucked up; you have to come get her."

I felt dread curling in the pit of my stomach but tried to make excuses anyway. It's not that I didn't care about her, I just knew that she'd put up a fight if I came within ten feet of her. "She's an adult, she can take care-" I began to protest halfheartedly.

"No, dude. That guy she's with, I know him, Jon something…" I felt my face blanch at the mention of Jon. "He's an asshole, dude, he'll hurt her," he shouted back seriously. "I'm DD and I'd help her except she doesn't really know me, and the person she does know, Jake, is too drunk to help her anyway."

"I'll be right there. Where are you?" I asked, jumping up from the couch as I flipped off the TV. By the time he finished the directions, I was downstairs in my car, backing out of my spot.

I had to park blocks from the house. I called Adam as I walked up to the house, expression grim. He told me he was in the kitchen and we hung up.

Girls eyed me with slow grins as I entered the house. I ignored them and made my way through the family room.

A girl stumbled backward from a hallway, laughing drunkenly. I caught her as she ran into me then held her as her knees buckled. "You okay there?" I asked kindly, turning her to me slightly.

"Erik!" Isabella Walters exclaimed joyfully at the sight of me. The vodka on her breath hit me in the face and I winced. "How are you?" she demanded, laying a small hand on my chest.

"Izzy!" I heard a familiar voice call, sounding half annoyed, half impatient. Ana appeared, looking annoyed, with Andrew following her. Her eyes widened at the sight of me. "Erik!" she exclaimed.

"Hey." I smiled back, glad to see my little sister nonetheless, and then patiently caught Isabella as her knees buckled again.

"What are you doing here?" she demanded, still looking surprised. As you can tell, I've made it a habit not to go to parties, so she was right to be stunned. "This is a high school party."

"Hey, beer is beer, no matter where it's from." I replied. "The guys are here, it's a long story, I'm not drinking-"

"He came to see me." Isabella interrupted, slowly patting me on the chest with her hand as she smiled flirtatiously up at me.

I saw Ana roll her eyes with a smirk. "Okay, that's it, no more drinking right after you've broken up with your boyfriend." Andrew spoke up, rolling his eyes, as he took her from me. "You come on to anything with a pulse," he stopped, looked at me, and then half smiled. "No offense."

"None taken." I replied dryly.

"Where some more… alcohol?" Isabella asked, teetering unsteadily.

"I think we're gonna call it a night." Andrew announced with a sigh.

"I'll call you." Ana gave me a hug.

"Okay." I agreed quietly, hugging her back… I hadn't realized how much I'd missed her until that moment. I watched her and Andrew slowly walk Isabella out.

"Bye Erik!" Isabella sang as they helped her away.

"Bye Iz." I replied, shaking my head with a smirk. Then the real reason why I'd come to the party came back to me. My expression went grim again as I walked into the kitchen where Adam said he'd be.

[coffeesforfuckers]

Oh, The Stupid Things I Do For A Stupid Man Called You // Brallon

Pairing: Brallon Summary: Falling in love happens in strange ways. You could fall in love at first sight and know right away or not realize until years later, or possibly not until it's too late. Dallon Weekes doesn't know what love is, what it feels like, tastes like, looks like... Love is doing all the stupid things for the person you are in love with. Brendon Urie is just a kid who needs to grow the hell up and do something with himself. He can't dance, he can't do mat good enough, he can't make friends and can't get a date. He just can't be a normal person, can't be himself. He can't figure out how to fall in love either. As Dallon runs into this kid so much like him, he just can't help but protect him by staying away. But not for too long. This is the story of two people finding out what love really is without even realizing there's even any there. Word Count: 4,664

Oh, the stupid things you do for the things you love. And I, Dallon Weekes am the dumbest of them all.

It was prom night, supposedly the most memorable night of your life or some bullshit like that. They'd hired a shit band in an equally as shit dance hall, my band was better than this and all I did was bumble around the stage like the awkward, tall guy I am and yell into a microphone. If you couldn't do better than that then you really needed to stop.

I couldn't really dance without another person, I had gone to dance lessons for a few months for a wedding surprise to my mom. She'd married David, my step-dad who was pretty cool and I was going to be doing a mother/son dance with her and I wanted to surprise her. She was surprised and all but I've never needed them again as I didn't dance much, especially with girls or any other people for that matter.

Also it was hard to find a prom date when you look like me. A tall, weird, emo guy with a shit hair-cut, I mean, I would be turned off too if it were me.

I'm stood off to the side, just watching as mostly everybody had fun with their friends and dates, both of which I lacked. I had 'friends' but they all had better friends of their own. Not that I blamed them either. I wasn't the ideal pick for a friend either.

I was weird and band obsessed, I mostly liked to talk music as that was what I knew but none of my friends liked that stuff. My actual friends who were in my band with me were from a different town and couldn't attend the dance without a date and it would be hard to say all four of these guys were my dates.

I notice a boy, probably around my age, alone on the other end of the dance hall. I decide to go join him.

"Hey!" I yell over the music and he glances over at me as I lean against the wall next to him, I towered over him, "Why aren't you dancing with the ladies!?" I call and he half-smiles.

"Girls don't like me!" He laughs, "I also can't dance!" He shrugs.

"Look, attending prom without knowing how to dance is tragic. I just can't let you face that humiliation."

"Thanks?" He speaks as I extend my hands out to him. I wasn't quite sure why I was offering to help this awkward looking kid but I just had to.

A small smile plays at my lips, "Don't worry, I'm a good teacher... Everyone says so." I tell him and he hesitantly takes my hands. I didn't even think of the backlash we'd get for this at the time.

He stifles a laugh as I dramatically pull him towards me, I truly was a drama queen and I knew it. I can tell he wants to show off to me but he can't, "Just follow my lead." I chuckle, the song was more fast paced than I hoped but I could pull it off, I step back and he steps towards me, I shuffle along to the side in a tango-like motion, holding his hands out before us. I bring our arms up in the air and spin, my arm firmly around his waist and his around mine loosely.

I tip him back and lean in closer to him myself, our faces too close for complete strangers but neither of us seemed to mind at all in reality. I sweep him off his feet and flip him, he lands it perfectly one hand still holding mine and I spin him into my arms, his back to my chest. He twirls out of my grip, releasing my hand halfway through the spin, stopping and doing a full on backflip and landing about a foot in front of me, his eyes, locked on mine as his arms extend towards me, they were crossed and I take them, my arms crossed as well, pulling him into me, his body crashes into mine and I shove him back, releasing one hand and twirling him around, tugging him back into me.

I dip him just as the song ends, both of us panting heavily. Neither of us realized that quite a lot of people had gathered to watch.

"You said you couldn't dance." I cough.

"I can't without another person."

***

I never thought that teaching that lonely kid at the prom how to dance could end badly. That was until people started the gay rumors. Everything went from already pretty bad to worse in less than a day.

"Hey fucker! Wanna dance with me?" A kid teases, "You probably want to fuck me huh? I'm so out of your league anyway. Aren't we all out of your league? Even that giant faggot, Dallon is better looking than you." I can hear from around the corner. I pick up my pace and find the kid I danced with, he's shoved up against the lockers by some guy barely taller than him.

"Yo, can you shut the fuck up and stop bothering him?" I shout, then noticing that the boy was in tears and he seemed to have been beaten up pretty badly and definitely more than once. I felt so unbelievably bad now.

The guy drops him and he lands on the floor, pulling his knees to his chest as a defence. He looked so afraid, "If you want to beat up on anybody, beat up on me. I told him that I was into him at the dance and he shot me down 'cause he doesn't swing that way and he agreed to dance with me, to make me happy. If you want to push anybody around for being gay or bi, or anything of the sort, then beat me up over it." I speak and watch as the boy looks up at me in awe at what I'd just done.

"You can fight back, he can't." The guy shrugs at me.

"Yeah but he's not the faggot, I am, right? So you should be beating me up and apologizing to him." I demand, "I won't fight back if you just fuck off and leave other people out of it." The guy nods.

"After class. I'm late." He turns and stomps off down the hall. I help the boy off the floor and he looks up at me with shaky, honey-brown eyes. I sigh and give him a hug.

"I'm sorry, kid. I didn't mean to get you in trouble for anything." I say as I pull back and he shakes his head.

"I had fun. You made my night great. Don't apologize... Thank you for everything you've done for me, Dallon." He smiles sadly.

"Don't thank me, it was my fault so I'll take the blame. Plus most people are too afraid to fight me anyway." I ruffle his hair, "You got beat up and it's my fault."

"Don't worry about it. My name's Brendon by the way." He speaks, "I'm sorry to cut this short and all, I just need to get to class... Thank's again."

"I should go too. No problem, Brendon. See you around."

I only now noticed how cute and small he was.

***

It's almost spring. I graduated two years ago after spending three years being beaten mercilessly for being 'gay'. It was worth it to help someone else out. I was waiting for a crosswalk light to turn green, my earbuds shoved deep into my ears and music blaring so loud that I was probably going to be deaf by the end of the day. I'm bobbing my head to the beat of the song and mumbling the lyrics to myself.

I love music so much.

I notice a guy step out of a store across the street. He's holding a couple bags. It seems like he'd been shopping all day. The sun was setting and I was just ready to go home after a long day of band stuff.

The guy steps up to the curb, looking both ways before starting to cross the street. A car speeds around the corner just as he gets to the middle line and instead of doing the smart thing and going back to the side of the street he came from, he bolts across, narrowly avoiding the car but tripping over himself in the process and landing at my feet. I chuckle, pulling out an earbud and reaching an arm down to him.

"You okay, man?" I ask and he staggers to a seated position, looking up at me, his nose is bleeding.

He takes my hand and I pull him up easily, "Thanks, I'm fine." He gives a breathy chuckle.

"Your nose is bleeding." I point out and his hand flies up to his face, running his finger under his nose and looking at his hand.

"Oh shit, you're right." He mumbles, going to put his white sleeve to it but I catch his hand.

"Here, don't ruin your shirt." I pull a black cloth out of my pocket, I use them at practice to wipe sweat off my forehead but this one was brand new and never used thankfully.

"You sure?" He asks.

"Yeah, it's just a rag." I shrug and he places it to his nose. He takes it away only a moment after and glances at it, squinting at it for a second and looking up at me with wide eyes, just as he did so I knew who this man was.

Those honey-brown eyes.

"Dallon Weekes? Like the kid from high school?" He says in awe.

"Brendon?" I say and he nods excitedly.

"My last name is Urie if you never knew that." He smiles at me. He grabs my arm and pulls a sharpie out of one of his bags and pops the cap off, scribbling his name and number onto my skin.

"Hit me up sometime, I've gotta be home for a family thing in like ten minutes." He says and goes to hand the cloth back to me.

"Keep it." I insist.

"How about I keep it and you call me when you want it back?" He laughs starting to jog off in the opposite direction, "Actually! Just call me!" He shouts over his shoulder.

"I will!" I yell back with a laugh.

I called him later that night.

***

"You want me to dress up like a girl for the whole night so your parents think you have a girlfriend?" I say in shock, "I'm like five stories taller than you and don't have boobs, nor do I look like a girl."

"Fuck you... And you'd be surprised at what I can do, now go tuck and tape." He points to the bathroom. I can't believe I'm actually fucking doing this.

I look at Brendon unamused as he tugs the wig onto my head, I hated him sometimes. He'd put a fuck-ton of makeup on me and was fixing up some fake boobage for me right after he got the wig on.

"You better appreciate me." I huff.

"I do." He kisses my cheek dramatically, "I love you Dally!" He squeals in a girly voice.

"Brendon, my balls are somewhere inside of me right now and my dick is almost up my own ass." I say and he breaks down into hysterical laughter.

"Impressive Dal!" He chokes.

"Your dick will be up your ass if you don't shut the hell up." I roll my eyes as he fixes the bra around me that has gel pads sewed into it.

"Oh please, it would be one hell of an experience." He winks and I give him a furrowed look.

"Are you saying you want to be fucked in the ass ?"

He laughs, "No, dumbass, and that's not lady-like to say, Darline ." He smirks at me and I shoot daggers at him, "Let me hear you're pretty voice, baby." Brendon taunts.

"I'm going to cut your dick off in your sleep." I speak in the best 'girl voice' I could muster.

"Sexy." He chuckles and smacks me on the arm, "Please be more ladylike around my family." He requests from me but he would be lucky if I didn't murder him halfway through the evening.

\\\

I can't believe what I'd do for this stupid boy. I stumble over myself in the tight heels Brendon insisted I wear and struggle to breathe in this constricting dress that Brendon picked out for me.

Being a girl must suck.

I don't see the appeal.

"If your parents can't tell from looks then they'll be able to tell from the way I walk in these heels." I speak in that stupid high-pitched tone.

"Most girls can't walk in heels anyway, Dal." He retorts, "You could just be more of a tomboy, who knows?" He smiles, "Make up a character for yourself and I'll play along."

"Okay, cool."

We get to the door of his parent's house and he tosses the door open, "I'm here!" He shouts like the diva he is, having to make an entrance everywhere we went.

"Brendon!" His mother grabs him into a hug, he looks just like her.

"Mom, this is my girlfriend, Da-Darline." He smiles as he looks over at me, it's an overly, too-genuine smile.

"Jesus... Brendon she's so tall." She looks me up and down before stepping closer, extending her hand out to me, I take it, "I'm Grace."

"I'm Darline." I nod and she still seems puzzled by me.

She drops my hand and takes Brendon to the side, I can still hear her talking either way, "Brendon, she's so manly, her hands are massive and tough and even her face is kind of manly! What do you see in her?" I can see Brendon is pissed but I don't quite get why.

"You can't just insult someone for how they look! It's not like h-, she can help it!" He snaps and even I flinch, not quite expecting an outburst like that. I've known him for ages and yes, he does tend to be a little over dramatic but he was really pushing it when it comes to dramatic right now.

"Bren, it's okay." I speak up and he turns to look at me, he seems shook up.

"No, it's not!" He shouts back at me.

"Chill, it's okay... Babe." I say unsure of my words.

He huffs and shakes his head. The night goes on like this, Brendon flipping out every time his mom said anything remotely rude about me looking weird or anything of the sort. It was sweet and all but I didn't really need him to defend me all the time, like I knew I was an ugly-ass girl, I was a manly looking guy and could never pull off being a girl. Nor that I would ever want to be after all this.

We went home early.

***

Brendon had invited me to dinner to celebrate the success of the album for the band of his that I had joined not long after my band took a break. We were nowhere near popular in any sense of the word, yet we were still more popular than my old band.

We were about done with our meal when Brendon goes to get his wallet and he goes pale, looking at me, "Don't tell me..." I say, looking back at him horrified.

"Please tell me you brought your wallet." Brendon practically begs.

"You said not to!" I defend and his eyes go wide, shit . He starts to fumble with his hands and he grabs my hand, placing something in it.

"You should totally pretend to propose to me," Brendon says, "We can see if someone in the restaurant gives us our meals for free, they usually will. People love it when stuff like that happens."

My stomach flipped and my eyes went wide, I look him over in his stupid jacket and sunglasses pushed up in his hair, showing off his huge forehead. I suddenly notice my trembling hands, I'm no longer hungry either. I felt like I was actually proposing... Why the fuck did I suddenly get so worked up over it? I'm confused and not thinking straight at this point, "Why am I the one proposing? You do it. It was your idea. You're the dumbass that lost their wallet."

"Dallon, come on, please. You're the manlier one here. You gotta do it." He pleads and I relent. Stupid me with my trembling hands and heart in my throat.

"Fine..." I mutter, "Fine..." I sigh and clear my throat, rubbing at the back of my neck. What the fuck was with this sudden rush of anxiety?

Brendon leans forward in his chair and grabs my hand and I suck in a sharp breath, I'm so jumpy. Damn it. I push out the breath forcefully, I'm sweating pretty bad, almost as if I'm performing. Was I having an allergic reaction to something? Would that be good enough to get our meal for free?

Brendon looks concerned and is about to ask if I'm okay when I finally force myself to speak, "Brendon, you know that I've been in love with you since I first laid eyes on you, it was love at first sight and especially at first dance... You are my best friend in the world and the most amazing person I have ever had the pleasure of meeting. Thank you for making the past ten years the best ten years of my life, we may have only started dating a few years ago when you were broken over the loss of 'the love of your life'. I swore to never abandon you like he did and I still promise you that so today to seal that promise for good I must ask you, Will you, Brendon Boyd Urie, will you marry me." My voice is shallow as my throat is tight when I slide from my chair to the floor on one knee. I hold Brendon's ring up to him, thankfully it's flashy enough to look like an engagement ring. Brendon looks like he could cry as he nods.

"Yes! Of course, Dallon! Yes! I love you." And it clicks in my head as the words leave his mouth. I'm trembling, I'm in love with Brendon?

I'm in love with Brendon.

He kisses me.

Those feelings are suddenly sealed in stone.

And then I pass out.

\\\

I awake in a hospital bed, Brendon is pacing the room. I groan and sit up, rubbing at my head, Brendon instantaneously looks over at me, letting out a heavy breath.

"Jesus christ, Dallon!" He breathes, "I can't believe you! If you weren't feeling well, why didn't you tell me!?" He scolds.

"I just thought it was nothing, I didn't feel sick." I frown.

"Why didn't you say you were allergic to shellfish!?" He tosses his hands in the air. So it was an allergic reaction.

"I didn't even know, man, I've never had any before." I shrug with a stiff laugh.

"You are a dumbass." He sighs, "Hurry up and get better so we can get you home." I smile sleepily as he steps up to the bed, brushing my hair away from my face, "Get some sleep, I'll stay here tonight." I nod as I drift back to sleep.

***

Tour was always fun, it was so good to be around Brendon, Kenny, Dan and Spencer all the time.

Brendon and I usually shared a room while in hotels while Kenny, Dan and Spencer shared a room. Tonight was a hotel night and man did this fucking bed feel so good. I never wanted to move from it. Brendon was asleep in the bed next to mine we were both catching up on our much needed rest. I somehow couldn't sleep and yet I was still too tired to even move.

Brendon's restless, tossing and turning in his sleep, squirming and whimpering softly. He awakes with a start, shouting and sitting bolt upright in his bed, panting. I jump at the sound of his sudden scream, squinting in the direction of him. I can tell he's shaking.

"Bren?" I yawn and he jumps at first. I flick the lights on and he watches me, "You alright?" I rub my eyes.

"I-... I had a nightmare." He frowns at me and I frown back.

"You think you can sleep?" I ask, Brendon shakes his head and I get up onto my bed, standing, I hold my hands out to him and he starts to laugh. Brendon stands up on his bed. Both of us had the habit of listening to music when we went to sleep so we would be dancing to the actual music, "Take my hands you nit!" I chuckle at him with a huge smile on my face.

"What are you british now or something?" He grins as he jumps across the gap between our beds into my arms and we both tumble back, almost landing onto the floor. We're both giggling and I pull him up, skipping a few songs that were on the playlist we had going until we got to Guillotine by Jon Bellion and I take his hands.

We bounce on the bed, dancing with each other and fumbling everywhere, tripping over the blankets as the tangle around our feet, bumbling all over and falling into each other while laughing pretty hard. He falls into me, holding onto my biceps, giggling up at me, his big, brown eyes shone with tears of happiness. He's leaning into me, heaving for air in between laughter. I know I'm in love with him just watching him like this.

Always so happy.

\\\

We had fallen asleep on my bed, laying together and talking till the early hours of the morning.

I wake up to Brendon making breakfast. Everything in this hotel room resided in one large open area, no doors for separate sleeping quarters or a kitchen area with walls around it. The only other separate room was the bathroom of course. Thanks to the designer of this building as I get to watch Brendon move, the muscles in his back flexing as he dances about, singing to himself softly. His shoulders have tight muscles that somewhat bulge out from under his skin with each move he makes, his spine twists about and the bones poke from his skin. It's so hot, he's so perfectly sculpted.

I can't help but to keep staring at his smooth body, his v line literally gave me the biggest boner. Well all of him did in reality but I mean, his v line is basically a fucking massive arrow pointing to his dick! How could that not arouse me?

I had a bigger thirst for Brendon than all of our fangirls and Ryan Ross combined.

My eyes roll up and down him and my mind is going wild with ideas. My favorite being the one where I pin him to the wall and fuck him from behind while trailing my mouth all along his skin.

Fuck me.

I am so gay for him.

"Dallon?" I hear him say and I almost jump out of my skin.

He caught me.

Abort mission.

"Why are you staring at me like that?" He squints.

"Huh?" Playing dumb was my only option by now, "I just woke up and am not checked in." I rub my eyes.

"You were just staring at me with weird googly-eyes and shit man." He chuckles and I follow suit but it's obviously forced.

"Yeah, I am not in yet, sorry about that, my mind was elsewhere." It wasn't fully a lie.

"Get up and have some eggs." He smiles at me as he gets me a plate of the food he'd just made, completely brushing off my intent staring.

"Thank you."

***

It's so late, so incredibly late but I'm up thinking about him. I craved him with my everything and right now I was reflecting on ever single one of those stupid things I did for him. The stupid shit I do for love and I am still a complete dipshit like I was back in high school.

After all these years, nothing has changed. I do it all for him, from getting my ass kicked to protect him to holding him when he has a bad dream, from dressing like a woman to stealing weed for him, from writing songs about him to fake proposing. So many things, stupid, stupid things because when you're in love, if the person you love is happy you'll stay miserable to keep them happy. But with him I've never been miserable.

I think of everything we've done together, everything we've been through. He's helped me through a lot of shit and I've done the same for him.

I'm sitting up on my bed, my eyes so tired that they're drooping and heavy. I run a hand up one of my arms, my skin is cool to the touch, I then brush my hair out of my face and to the side. I scratch at my side and shift in the bed. The old wood creaks every time I move. I can hear Brendon breathing heavily with sleep and the soft music in the background.

My body sways tiredly. I hear Brendon's bed creak as he shifts in his sleep, or so I think.

"Dal?" His voice rasps, croaking sleepily.

I yawn and scratch my thigh, "Bren?"

"Why are you still up?" He mumbles, half awake.

"I could ask you the same." I retort.

"I just woke up and rolled over and noticed you were still up." He shifts to hold himself up on his elbow, "Now, why are you still up?" He demands.

"Can't sleep, thinking." I shrug as if it's nothing.

"What about?" He coos.

"Just, uh..." I hum, "Trying to decide if this thing I did was incredibly stupid, or..." My voice trails off into the thick night air.

"What happened?" Brendon tilts his head, "What did you do?"

"Well..." I sigh as my sleepy mind wanders, "I... Fell in love with you."

The room falls into a gentle silence again other than the music and breathing and I just assume that he'd dozed off or not heard me. I fall back onto my bed and close my eyes in defeat.

I lay there for a while just contemplating life and what love really was when I felt the bed dip next to me and the covers shift. A gentle hand brushes over my skin and rests on the side of my neck, fingers playing with the small wisps of hair at the nape of it. I can feel the familiar soft lips of Brendon's press to my jawline just near my ear.

"You've done a lot of stupid stuff for me, Dallon but I promise you that this right here, won't be one of those things." He whispers into my ear and his warm breath washes over my skin, sending a chill up my spine.

My head falls to the side and my nose hits Brendon's by mistake, our lips brushing momentarily.

"I'm in love with you." I say again.

"I think I might just be in love with you too, Dal."

And we kiss.

And kiss.

And kiss.

My world feels okay, it's finally whole.

My fingers lace within his and he wraps his legs around my body, his free hand playing with my hair, "I think this was love at first sight." I tell him against his lips.

"I agree with you there." He hums on my mouth.

Oh, the stupid things you do for the things you love.

And I, Dallon Weekes may be the dumbest one of them all, but I know I sure as hell am the luckiest as well.