#I got an autograph for my partner once and stood in line for a voice actor for like two hours or something

[bisexualnathanyoung]

whenever I go to conventions I never meet celebrities I just go over by the booths to glance and go “oh cool I was in the same room as someone I vaguely recognize” and sometimes also go “wow that is a long line”

[sherrybaby14]

Moral of the Story

Summary:  Steve’s girl likes to party all the time and he’s at his wit’s end.  Then he meets you.

Pairing:  Steve Rogers x female reader.

Warnings:  Alcohol, Smut, ANGST

Words:  5k

A/N:  This is for the wonderful @captain-rogers-beard​ challenge. Congrats Doll!  My prompt was “Party all the Time” by Eddie Murphy.

   The music was a bit louder than you would have liked, but at least the song was catchy.   You sipped on your drink as you watched the dance floor, your friend’s waving you over.  

   With a smirk you shook your head and lifted your drink, far too sober to dance.

   “I think they want you to join them?”  A voice boomed in your ear.

   You did a jump as you turned to see a gorgeous blonde next to you.  

   “I don’t want to spill my drink.”  You ran your hands down your now wet dress.

   “Oh Jeez, I’m so sorry ma’am.”  He reached for some cocktail napkins. “Let me buy you another.”

   “It’s okay.”  You began to pat your dress dry.  “It’s probably better on my clothes than down my throat.  I don’t drink often.”

   “Me either.”  He gave a warm smile.  

   “Then why are you in a nightclub?”  You turned to the bar, trying to block out the loud music and not have to yell so much. “Here to pick up women?”

   “A friend invited me.”  His gaze went to the dance floor.

   You followed it and saw he was looking at a dark haired man.  You couldn’t see his face because it was being covered by a gorgeous brunette.  She pulled away and you blinked a few times, she had to be a model, a perfect ten.  

   “I think your friend is going to get lucky.”  You turned back to see his jaw clench up.  

   “Yeah, it looks like it.”  He looked away, there was a pain in his eyes.  “If I can’t buy you a new drink how about a cup of coffee?”  

   “Oh, I don’t think they sell coffee here.”  You shrugged.

   He erupted in laughter and you glanced around, not noticing the punch line.  

   “There’s a diner a block away.”  He leaned against the bar.  “Open twenty four hours.  I know I’m a stranger, but I could get out of here and by the looks of it so could you.”  

   “I’m game.”  You put your glass on the bar and started walking to the door.  

   “I’m Steve by the way.”  He held out his hand.  

   “I know who you are.”  You smiled.  “I think the whole world knows who you are.”  

   A confused look spread across his face.  The brisk nighttime air made your arm get some goosebumps, but you let out a sigh of relief when the music died down.  

   “That’s not the reaction I get from most people who know who I am.”  Steve grabbed his chin.  “Maybe I should grow a beard again.”  

   “Would you rather I asked for an autograph and a selfie?”  You raised an eyebrow, then put the back of your hand to your forehead.  “Oh Captain my Captain?”

   “Alright, I get it.”  Steve laughed.  “So what’s your story?  I guess your the one whose the stranger here.”

   “It’s not like I know everything about you, just the headlines.”  You winked.  “Workaholic, I love my job, it keeps me busy.  In my free time I do the basics,  read, watch movies, attempt and fail at the newest workout craze.”  

   “Pilates man.”  Steve pulled the diner door open.  “It’s a lot harder than it looks.”

   “I fall in every yoga position.”  You followed Steve as he slid into a booth.  “Zumba was fun, but I’m lacking in rhythm.”  

   “You?”  Steve’s eyes went wide.  “You look like you would be a great dancer.”

   “I’m great at a lot of things.”  You flipped over your mug.  “But bad at more.”  

   “I’m really bad at board games.  I flipped the board last time I played Monopoly.”  Steve leaned back in the booth.  “But I am amazing at tic-tac-toe.”  

   “Oh yeah?”  You reached in your purse and pulled out a pen, drawing the lines on a napkin.  “Prove it?”

~~

“Even with all this coffee and stimulating conversation.”  You brought your hand to your mouth to stifle the yawn.  “Exhaustion is setting in.  I’ve got to get to bed.”

“How far do you live from here?”  Steve reached for his wallet.  “It’s almost 4 am.  Can I walk you home?”  

“Four am?”  You hadn’t checked your phone since you told your friends you were safe after vanishing, that was five hours ago.  

Sure enough the device read 3:56.  

“Damn.”  You grabbed a menu.  “Might as well order breakfast then.”  

Steve looked shocked, but then nodded in agreement, not pulling a menu. The server took notice and came over.  

“I’ll have a meat lovers skillet, side of country gravy, sub American cheese, eggs over easy, wheat toast?”  You but the menu back.  

“I’ll have the same.”  Steve leaned forward.

“Really?” The waitress was confused. “Not the usual?”

“I’m being adventurous tonight.”  Steve winked.  

“Okay.”  She walked away.

“I like the way you know what you want.”  Steve leaned back.  “Kind of no nonsense.  It’s refreshing.”  

“I wouldn’t say that.”  You laughed.  “Maybe when it comes to diner food at 4 am.  I’ve been eating my whole life after all.”  

“So why isn’t there anyone special in your life?”  Steve almost seemed fidgety.  

“There’s lots of special people in my life.”  You smiled.  “I’m very close with my parents, my siblings, have some great friends I’d call family, my coworkers are amazing too.”

“That’s not what I meant.”  Steve’s eyes showed a strange wave of vulnerability.  

“No reason.”  You wished you had a better answer.  “I’ve dated plenty, had some serious partners, some not so serious.  I guess I’m picky? What about you?”

“The friend who invited me to the club tonight, it was the girl.”  Steve gave a pressed smile.  “We were very serious, she broke it off about two months ago.  Wanted to try being friends.  I agreed to give it a go.  I don’t see how it’s going to work.”  

The perfect 10 brunette.  Your heart started to ache for the man.  He was heartbroken.  It was all over his face, body language.  Everything clicked.  

“What a bitch.”  You brought your hand to your mouth and looked at him with wide eyes.  

He laughed and you relaxed.

“There you go, being honest and direct again.”  Steve put his elbows on the table.  “I don’t think people can be friends with exes.  It’s not in the cards.”  

“I’ve never tried.”  You were more of the it’s done it’s done type.  “My philosophy is look forward.  The future.  Thinking about the past, it’s a dangerous trap.”  

“I’m starting to think the same thing.”  Steve’s eyes lit up.  “She is a big party girl, I mean, she’s a model so sometimes its a networking thing.  But I never really fit into her life.”  

“Wait, were you guys like a tabloid couple?”  You tilted your head. “Can I read all about your breakup on instagram?”  

“No!” Steve rolled his eyes.  “That was part of the problem.  I think she wanted that.  Being with me could elevate her career and it made me feel used, so I wouldn’t allow public photos. There’s a few that leaked, but nothing confirming our relationship.”

“Wow, you celebrities are a different breed.”  It never once crossed your mind to post about who you were having coffee with.

“I am not a celebrity.”  Steve wagged a finger at you.  

“Oh I’m sorry.”  You brought your hand to your chest.  “Historical figure.”

Steve cracked up.  His laugh was infectious and you joined, chuckling away.  

“Without being too forward young lady,” Steve reached out and grabbed your hand, sparks shooting down your arm.  “Could I have your telephone number?”  

You knew he was bating you for a joke.  But you preferred the natural type.  

“Yes.”  You reached for your phone, breaking the hand touch.  “You can have my number.”

~~

Noon hit and you forced yourself out of bed, six hours of sleep was doable.  You began to make your mental checklist of projects for the day while you brushed your teeth.  

There was a giddy ness in the back of your mind over last night.  He was a cool guy and it was a fun time.  Your brain started to think about work.  You had to call your parents and check in, probably explain to your friends about where you went, you would leave out the Captain America angle.  

You grabbed your phone and your jaw about hit the floor.  There was a text from Steve already.  

Are you going to say good morning?  

You didn’t think you would hear from him for at least a few days.  It made you smile and wiggle as you sat on the bed.  

Good morning!  Or afternoon?  

Before you set the device down the reply bubbles started to form.   You parted ways seven hours ago.  It was a Saturday.  This was unexpected.   The bubbles disappeared and then reappeared several times.   You were on the edge of your seat.  

Then your phone started to vibrate.  You almost threw the thing, seeing Steve’s name pop up. Instead your smile grew as you slid it to answer.

“Was good afternoon not appropriate?  Technically it’s 12:15, that is literally after noon.”  You tried to stifle the excitement.

“You want to have a beer with me tonight?”  Steve’s voice was just as sexy over the phone.  “I would say dinner, but I know you had some things to take care of.  There’s this sports bar I love,  I promise I won’t spill anything on you and coffee keeps us up too late.”  

“I’d love to.”  You didn’t see a point in trying to act coy.  

“Great, nine o’clock?  I’ll text you the address.”  Steve’s smile carried over the phone.  

“Sounds like a plan.”  You ran your hand over your hair and wondered if you could get away without washing it.  

“Have a great day.  I”ll see you tonight.”  

“Bye.”  You clicked off the phone and did a little happy dance.  

You didn’t see that one coming.  

Your phone lit up with Steve’s message right away.  You sent a thumbs up emoji.  To your surprise, Steve responded:

Emojis, it’s like hyrogliphics are coming back?  Why did we skip the sonnets?

You didn’t even think before responding.

You: Shall I compare thee to a Summer’s Day?  Thou art more lovely and temperate.  

Steve: Sonnet 18, one of the greats.

You: I stole it from Clueless.  

Steve: What’s Clueless?

~~

You woke the next morning, at your normal 8 am.  Even more thrilled with the date from the night before.   It was fun.  It was a fantastic time.  Of course the texting all day long made the conversation flow right to person-to-person.  

“I can’t sleep until noon tomorrow.”  You stood up from the bar stool.  “Plus I hit my three beer maximum.  Maybe once I know you better you can meet four beer me.”  

“You’re guarded in the strangest ways.”  Steve beamed at you.  

“Me?”  You were shocked.  “I’m an open book. Nothing to hide.”

“Well would this bother you then?”  Steve cupped your cheek and before you could react his face leaned in.

Warm lips met yours.  You melted into him, your body felt like it was floating.  Nobody in the bar paid you any attention as his tongue slid into your mouth before pulling out.  A little moan came forward when he pulled away.  

There was a devilish grin on his face as he grabbed your hand and kissed your knuckles.  

“Let’s get you an Uber.”  

All you could do was nod in a numb state.  This amazing man kissed you.  It was like a dream.  

You were all smiles as you rolled out of bed, straight to the bathroom.  Sundays were your lazy day, but you missed too much yesterday that you had to squeeze some work in.  It wouldn’t be too much.  

When you left the bathroom you grabbed your phone.  Your heart exploded when you saw there was already a text from Steve.  

Today you can say good morning.  I have faith.  

~~

Steve Rogers was perfect.  Three dates in a week, not including coffee night.  Every other day he wanted to see you.  He made you laugh, listened to you, was always available.  Sent you little comics you found funny.   You giggled at the last gif he sent you of a puppy eating bubble.

You: I’ve got to head into a work meeting.  I’ll text you later.  

Steve: Knock ‘em dead.  

Supportive too.  You smiled as you slipped your phone into your pocket.  It had only been a week, but you couldn’t remember the last time you connected with someone this way, if ever.

“You’re smiley.”  A coworker bumped you with her arm.  “It’s almost like you have a glow.”

“Just a happy person.”  You shrugged.  “How is your son doing? Any luck on that math test?”

“Oh he did much better!”  Your coworker dropped her shoulders in relief.  “That tutor was worth every penny.”

She continued to talk and you tried to listen, but your thoughts kept drifting to Steve.  This was the best week of your life.

~~

The meeting got your adrenaline pumping.  You left and went straight to your office, typing away the e-mails, ready to get the new project off the ground.   It was almost time to call it a day, the sun was starting to set.  

That was when you picked up your phone.  Two messages from Steve.  Fuck.  Guilt set in.  

How was the meeting?  

Everything okay?

You grabbed your phone and started typing.

You: Sorry work got crazy.  Major project.  Just leaving now.  

Steve: Do you want to over to my place for dinner?  Unwind?  I can have a meal and some wine for you, straight away?  

Unwinding with Steve sounded perfect, plus you were more interested in the version that didn’t involve a meal.  

You looked down at your work clothes, your makeup probably long smeared off,  but did that matter?  Steve didn’t seem to care about your appearance.  He wanted you for who you were.   And right now that sounded perfect.

You: Do you have ice cream?  

Steve: Oh my freezer is overflowing.  Any flavor you like.  Popsicles too.  

You: I’m in.  Text me your address?  

~~

Every other time you arrived at a paramour’s place for the first time you were nervous.  Not this time.  Your brain played a slide show of the last week.  The way Steve listened, hung on your words, followed up with questions.  He made you feel like the most important person in the world.  

Your past experiences taught you that people were either fantastic talkers or listeners.  You prided yourself on being both, but Steve seemed to fall in that same category.  

With a strange confidence you hit the buzzer for his apartment.  The door unlocked and you walked up the stairs, speeding up with each step.  

When you got to his floor you spotted him hanging out the door, waving at you.  This was going to be the hard part.  

“Before I step inside, I have to let you know something.”  You rehearsed this in your head a few times.  “Work was insane today, and I know tomorrow is Saturday, but I have to put in a few hours.  This happens about twice a year, not a common occurrence.  But as much as I want to, I can’t spend the night.”  

“Okay.” Steve nodded and held the door open.  “Again I love your honesty.”  

You walked in to see all the only lights on in the apartment two candles on the clothed kitchen table.  Your heart started to sink at the thought he’d put into it, but then you noticed the meal set out at each end and began to laugh.  

“Full disclosure,  all I had was some TV dinners.”  Steve came behind you and wrapped his arms around your waist.  “And there’s no ice cream or popsicles.  But I can think of something I want for dessert.”

You spun around and put your arms around his neck, pulling him in for a deep kiss.   He reached underneath you and scooped you up.  You wrapped your legs around his waist as he carried you, deepening the kiss.  

Nothing had ever felt so right in your life.  It was as if the cosmos had brought you together.  

“You’re too perfect.”  You pulled away as he dropped you on the bed.  

“You’re a one-in-a-million.”  Steve’s breath was heavy as he started to pull at your clothing.  

Hands were everywhere, lips randomly touching whatever skin they could.  Shoes and socks flying off with pants and shirts.  You shoved his boxers down as he unhooked your bra, the feeling of your bare chests pushed together making you shudder.  

Steve grabbed your panties and yanked them down as you settled back on his bed.  On your back, legs spread, knees up.  His arm encircled your thigh as he began to kiss.  You moaned and fisted the blanket, lifting your pelvis up inviting his mouth.  

He wasted no time and began to devour you. You tried to pay attention to what he was doing, but you couldn’t keep up.  Was that his tongue? His lips?  You cried out when something slid inside of you.  

“FUCK!”  Your body convulsed around his mouth.  

Your chest heaved while your brain tried to keep up with the pleasure.  Steve kept licking, touching, working you.  Everything was frenzied.   Your head collapsed to the side and you tried to regain control.  

“I knew you were primed.”  Steve kissed up your stomach.  “But you have one more in you.”  

He climbed until he was over you, his cock lining up with your entrance.  Never had you came that fast from another person.

Steve pushed forward and filled your aching pussy.  You squealed and grabbed onto his shoulders.   Rolling your body against his.  

“That’s it.”  He nipped at your neck.  “You were meant for me.  Never felt this way before.”  

You grabbed his face and pulled his lips to your own, enjoying the taste of yourself on him while he railed into you.  He returned the kiss and sped up.  Slamming his cock, teasing your clit while your g-spot came to life.  

There was no hiding your moans and his grunts as your bodies melded together.   Your breath started to tighten, and then your muscles started.  The edge came fast and you flung yourself over.  

Your head went back into the pillow as your screamed,  it was impossible to tell if your vision went black since the room was too dark.  But Steve let out a grunt and pulled out of you.

Instead of blowing all over your stomach he pushed your head down.  You slid down the bed and opened your mouth.  

His aim was perfect and for the second time you tasted yourself, enjoying the way he finished in your mouth, letting your lips wrap around his tip.  Drinking him all down while your body shook.  

“I think I’m falling in love.”  Steve pushed forward before pulling out and landing on his back.  

You nodded, breathless as you curled up to him.   He wrapped an arm around you and pulled you close, kissing the top of your head.  

You ignored the tears forming in your eyes, fighting them away.  If pure happiness existed, this was it.  How did you get so lucky?

~~

Steve: I’m going to hug my pillow all night wishing it was you.  

You glanced at the clock, it was already approaching midnight.  

You: I’m sorry I couldn’t stay.  Thank you for a wonderful night and a gourmet meal.

Steve: Get some sleep.  I miss you.  

You: I miss you too.

You grabbed your pillow.  If Steve was pretending his was you, maybe you could do that same.  A huge smile on your face as you drifted off.

~~

You woke with a smile.  Maybe Smiley could be your new nickname.  You grabbed your phone eager to see what Steve had sent. To your surprise, there was no message.

All week long you’d woken up to messages.  You smiled even bigger, maybe you’d finally worn him out and the man needed more sleep than you did.

You rolled out of bed to brush your teeth, thoughts filled with nothing but Steve.

~~

Work was so intense, you turned your phone off.  No distractions.  When the team broke for lunch you flipped it on, your heart racing to see Steve’s messages.  When the screen came to life you saw nothing.  

Maybe it was wrong?  Messages glitched sometimes.  You clicked the app open, all you saw was your last message.  It said read at 12:03 am.  

You shrugged it off.  Steve knew you had a big work day.  He was being respectful.  You thought about texting him, but you had to get back to it and didn’t want to come off as needy.  It wasn’t like you could text him all afternoon.  

~~

The project finished an hour early, 4 pm on a Saturday.  Everyone gave themselves a round of applause and you did a lazy golf clap as you reached for your phone.  

Your heart exploded when you saw a message from Steve.

Steve: How was your day?

You: Good.  I have so much to tell you!

There was no bubble response, or read receipt.  You stared at your phone.  Maybe turning it off had been a bad idea.  

After saying goodbye to your colleagues and walking to you subway stop your phone dings with a message.

Steve: Can we meet for coffee?  

You giggled.

You: Why not dinner?  The real kind this time.  It was a big day for me!  I want to celebrate, you can supply dessert again.  

Steve: Coffee.  Now?  First night?

Maybe he had a big day too.  He’d been so supportive of you, it was due to return the favor.

You: Sure.  I’ll be there in twenty.  

You headed to the other subway line, more than eager for a sleepover tonight.  

~~

When you arrive at the diner you scan it, not seeing Steve anywhere.  Maybe you beat him here.   You were about to grab a random booth when a man in a black hoodie, baseball hat, and sunglasses sticks his hand in the air.  

You smile, wondering if this is some Avenger’s mission.

“Are you going as the Unabomber for Halloween?”  You slide into the booth.  “I couldn’t even recognize you.”

“There’s no easy way to say this.”  Steve cracked his jaw.  “Ashley called me last night.  Very upset.”

“Whose Ashley?”  You blurted out the first thought that came to your mind.

“My ex.”  He let out a huge sigh.  “She’s a mess.”

“The bitch from the club?”  You were a little interested in the drama.

“She’s not a bitch.”  Steve put his hands on the table and your blood ran cold.  “She has some problems.  She is working on them.  And we have a lot of history and she needs my help.”

“Oh.”  You felt like your soul floated out of your body.

“You’re so perfect.”  He reached out and grabbed your hands.  “But she needs me.  You don’t need me.  We have a lot of history and I owe it to her to try.”  

“Oh.”  Everything went numb.

“I wanted to let you know in person and before things got too serious.”  Steve squeezed your hand.  “If I could take back last night, I wouldn’t.  It was perfect,  you’re perfect.”

“You already said that.”  Your voice was getting tight.  

“But I mean it.”  He pushed the hood off his baseball cap.  “I can’t leave her.  Without me, I mean, you saw her at the club that night.  She’s a disaster.”  

The tears started to boil in your throat they were so deep.  You yanked your hands away, thoughts flying to wild to speak clearly.  You didn’t know if you wanted to scream at him or plead with him to pick you.  

“I hope we can stay friends?”  He let out a sigh.  “I mean, you’re amazing and you made me so happy this past week.  Probably the happiest I’ve been in my entire life.  You’re smart, and witty, and beautiful, and you’re everything.”

The way he said week hit home.  It was only a week.  Not a month, not a year.  Just a week.  A lot of digs ran through your mind, ways you could make a joke, ways you could state your feelings.  But instead you said one thing.

“Sure.”  Your brain started to scream at itself.  

“That’s such a relief.”  Steve dropped his shoulders.

“I had a really long day.”  You stood up from the booth.  “Talk soon?”

You didn’t look back as you ran to the door, the tears spilling over. With a shaky hand you pulled out your phone, screaming at yourself for being so stupid to develope feelings, but smart enough to do one thing.  You highlighted his contact and clicked delete.  

~~

Friends, family, whoever would talk had to listen to you cry.  You didn’t hold back for them.  You made sure they alternated duty.   You even took a week off of work.

“If I would have stayed that night, would he have ignored her?”  You sobbed to your best friend.  

“No hunny.”  She ran a hand through your head.  “No.  You got caught in a weird game.”  

~~

Steve: How do you kill a circus?

It’s a random number not saved to a contact, but you know that’s the first text you get from Steve.  You know the punchline, but rather than responding you delete it.  The last thing you want is to memorize his number.  

You would’ve broken down and sent some very dumb stuff you would’ve regretted.  It’s only been five days.  He should send his girlfriend those jokes, not you.  

~~

Three days later you get  another.

Steve: How are you?

You think about deleting it, you think about screaming you broke my heart, acting cool like you’re busy, or just gushing about how much you miss him and what a great guy his is.  

You: Fine.

Steve: Glad to hear.

You don’t hesitate to delete the thread.

~~

Steve: I miss you.

Your heart races.  It’s been two weeks since the night you had the best sex of your life.  The tears sting your eyes.  You’ve been apart longer than you were together.   Did he realize he made a mistake?  Was he coming back to you?

You start typing: I miss

But then you stop.  No.  You had to frame this right.  State it right.  But what was there to do? Yell at him into loving you?  Did you love him?  Your heart hurt like it had, but this was wrong.  

With a shaky finger you highlighted the number and moved it to block.  The sobs came again and you cuddled your phone, regretting your choice.

~~

The day you hit the month mark you were trying not to think about Steve, but then the celebrity hit:  CAPTAIN AMERICA ENGAGED!  It ran all over the headlines.  

Him and his fiance were plastered everywhere.  You couldn’t escape.  It hit you then.  You were a rebound.  You were nothing.  A temporary step on his life path.  It hurt.  It hurt more than anything.  No ice cream could repair the hole one week with Steve Rogers had created.

~~

“I’m glad we got you out tonight.”  Your friend poked you in the side as she screamed in your ear.  “What’s it been, months since you’ve been in a club?”

“Yep.” Two, but you tried not to think about how your last time in a nightclub ended, how it could derail your life.  “But I’m here.”

You still hated the loud music.  Memories of a sports bar with Steve tried to come forward, but you buried them before they could.  

“Let’s dance!” She grabbed your hand.  

“Not yet.”  You yanked it away.  “In a few drinks.”

“I’ll wait with you.”  She settled next to you.  “But that dance floor is inviting.”

The bodies were moving and you scanned the area.  Your eyes bulged when you spotted a familiar face, tongue down a mouth.  

“Is that…..is that Captain America’s fiance?”  Your friend grabbed your arm,  you never told them the mysterious Steve’s last name.   “She’s not kissing Cap.”

She pulled out her phone ready to take a picture, but you put your hand out and lowered her arm.  

A wave of clarity rushed over you.  

“His girl wants to party all the time.  He buys her champagne and diamonds.”  A weird smile settled over you.  “He thinks he can fix her.”

That was the problem.  You didn’t need fixing.  And if you ever did you would figure it out for yourself, with the support of people around you.  Steve hit the nail on the head when he said you didn’t need him.  You never would.

“Go dance.”  You gave your friend a playful spank on the ass.  

For the first time in two months you felt like yourself and turned back to the bar hoping to block the music.  

A finger tapped your shoulder and you looked up with no jump.

“It’s loud in here.”  A handsome man with dark hair looked down at you.

“There’s a coffee shop a block away.”  You stood up.  “Can I buy you a cup?”

“Yes.” He nodded and set his drink down.  

“What’s your name?”  You yelled over the music.

“Stephen.”  He was right behind you.  

“Do you go by Steve and what are your thoughts on needy women?”  You pushed open the door to the club.

The air was hot and you rolled your shoulders back, embracing the lack of obnoxious music.

“If I went by Steve I would have introduced myself that way.”  His intense eyes glared at you.  “And I am a surgeon.  Everyone I encounter is needy.  I don’t have time for it in my personal life.”

You stifled your laughter at the response.   At least Steve had taught you to speak your mind.  Having a flashback to leaving the bar with him.  

“Well Mr. Stranger,  I will never need you.”  You grinned at him.  “Except for good conversation and occasional support.”

“It’s actually Doctor Strange.”  He chuckled.  “I think that’s the first time I laughed in months.”

“Tell me about it...literally.” You kicked at the sidewalk.  “How do you kill a circus?” 

The man scoffed at you and then wiped off his sleeves.  

“You go for the juggler of course.”  

[neesieiumz]

All the Stars {Tamaki Amajiki x Reader} - Chapter 3

Summary: When Fatgum hires a sidekick transferring from America and assigns Tamaki to show her around, Tamaki sees the differences between the two of them and wonders if they are even going to get along? At least she seems like a decent person...right

A/n: I edited this so I have no idea what I wrote here, so enjoy!

Word count: 2.9 k

Chapter 3 - A look at her

“Y/n! Hurry up!” 

She rolled her eyes at the tone her partner took and slowed down in zipping up her right boot. He was waiting outside for her so they could go on their shift patrolling. As she zipped up her boot, she thought back to her interaction with Amajiki-san in the coffee shop earlier today and smiled back. 

“I just don’t understand why we need to stop at some stupid coffee shop, they offer coffee at the agency and we’re gonna be late!” Aoi complained, walking a couple of steps behind her. 

Y/n rolled her eyes but continued on her way to the cafe near her apartment. Since she just moved here, she hasn’t racked up enough money to buy a car yet so she had to beg her partner to start picking her up so she could save money to buy her own car. 

Y/n turned to her partner and winked, “it’s not gonna take long and for coming with me, even though you complained half the way, I’ll get you something free of charge!”

She then faced forward, missing her partner's cheeks deepened in color but she heard how he grumbled under his breath about how he lets her ride in his car for free. Y/n’s nails clicked along with the buildings they passed as they reached the cafe. Once they got there, Y/n opened the door and the smell of pumpkin spice and peppermint hit her and she reveled in the smell. She noticed no line and basically skipped to the front with Aoi trailing behind her. 

“What do you want?” Y/n asked her partner, going in her bag and pulling out her wallet. 

Aoi sighed and uncrossed his arms and squinted at the menu as Y/n ordered herself a sakura blossom frappe and a random breakfast sandwich she saw. She glanced over at her partner and waited for him to tell her what he wanted.

“Hurry up,” she teased, playfully smacking his shoulder. 

He glanced over at her for a quick second and glared at before telling her that he wants a coffee jelly frappuccino and that’s it. He walked away as she paid, telling her he needs to use the bathroom. She nodded and placed the order and walked over to the pickup section and waited for their things to be done. She pulled out her phone and noticed an email notification from her old boss. She smiled and opened it to respond to her when she heard someone call out a name. She didn’t pay attention but as she was typing a response, a familiar figure passed her and was walking up to the counter. She quickly looked up and saw Tamaki, the guy who gave her the tour around the agency, grabbing some coffees and bags of cooked food. 

Y/n smiled and remembered the tour he gave her, how he was obviously shy but tried his best to engage her in a conversation. How his ears turned red when she complimented him about basically anything. How his eyes sparkled in pride when he revealed that the studs were his idea, telling her they remind him of how his Alma Mater used to have a gym like the studios.

Having not seen the man since he gave her the tour that was two, almost three, weeks ago, and remembering that he was in the hospital for an injury from a villain attack,  she decided to walk up to him and say hi. And considering that the barista was walking up the station with her order, she couldn’t have said hi at a perfect time. 

“Amajiki-san!” She called out to him as she picked up her food. 

He tensed up and turned around to face me. Once he saw me, recognition flooded his eyes and a soft smile appeared on his face. I stepped even closer to him and smiled brighter. 

“Amajiki-san, I thought it was you! I haven’t seen you in a while since you gave me a tour of the agency! Man, it’s been a while!” Y/n said, feeling the coffee slip between her hands and held on to it tighter. 

Amajiki’s ears went red, his eyes looked everywhere but at her. 

“Yeah, I guess it has been a while,” Tamaki said sheepishly. 

Y/n remembers the villain attack and looks at his body for any casts or bandages but couldn’t find any, “I heard you got hurt when taking down some villains in an attempted bank robbery, you’re okay right?” She stepped closer to him to make sure that he was okay. 

Tamaki’s eyes widened at her question and took a couple of steps back but Y/n didn’t notice. 

“Yeah, I’m okay, just a couple of scratches and bruises, nothing to be worried about. What about you? I heard you took down a gang of villains terrorizing some civilians by yourself while your partner was evacuating citizens.”

Y/n’s eyes widen this time, remembering her debut fight when she and Aoi were on patrol. How she had to hold back 6 villains at the same time while Aoi got bystanders to safety. She was able to hold her own just enough until Aoi cane back and brought a couple more heroes to help out. Y/n smiled at the memory and she looked at Tamaki. 

“You heard about that huh? Yeah, it was hard but I was glad I was able to hold them back long enough until Aoi was able to get the bystanders out of the way!” Y/n boasted, moving her hands around to imitate her fighting moves. 

As she was doing that, she heard Tamaki let out a laugh, the most emotion other than bashfulness she’s seen today. Her eyes widen and she stood up straight to look at Tamaki. Tamaki noticed this and automatically stopped laughing. 

 “You have a nice laugh Tamaki, you should definitely use it more.” Y/n then gave him a soft smile, tilting her head. 

Before Tamaki could say something, a familiar voice called out Y/n’s name. They both looked to where the voice called out for her and saw Aoi waiting at the door, using one arm to keep it open. 

“Come on! We have patrol soon!” He yelled at her. 

Y/n rolled her eyes at him before turning back to Tamaki. She smiled wistfully and placed a hand on his shoulder and squeezed it. He looked down at her hand and then looked back at her.

“I’ll see at the agency, whenever our schedules overlap.” She said, letting him go and walking over to her partner who was glaring at her like she kicked his puppy. 

With one final look between the two of them, Y/n walked away and headed to her grumpy partner who she punched not so hard in the stomach. His glare intensified and didn’t let up as she handed him his coffee and walked out of the cafe, back to the parking lot for Y/n’s apartment building. Aoi trailed behind her as usual and sipped on his coffee. 

“So… what were you and chimera boy talking about?” Aoi said out of the blue, making Y/n choke on her drink. 

Aoi noticed this and waited for Y/n to stop choking so she can give him a straight answer. She went into her bag and pulled out a travel pack of tissues to clean herself up. Once she was settled, she turned around and gave Aoi dead eyes. 

“Thanks for helping,” she said sarcastically and wiped the rest of the pink-colored coffee off her face. 

She threw away the tissue in a nearby trash can and looked at herself in a store window to see if she missed anything. Once Y/n felt she was okay, she continued on her way to Aoi’s car. 

“You still didn’t answer my question.” He said, unlocking his car with the keys in his hands. 

Y/n ignored him and opened the passenger door and got in, throwing her bag in the back seat of the car. Aoi got in the driver’s seat and threw his stuff in the back similar to Y/n. He started the car and began pulling out the parking lot, the destination being their agency. As Y/n pulled out her phone, she began to randomly scroll through her social media and remembered to respond to her former boss. 

“You still didn’t answer my question about you and Suneater,” Aoi repeated once again, taking a sharp left turn at the light. 

Y/n rolled her eyes, she finds her self doing that more often and turned to look at him. 

“First off, don’t call him chimera boy, what are we in? High school? Second of all, it’s none of your business what we talked about, what are you? My father?” She grumbled. 

She turned back in her seat and typed out a response to her former boss, she could hear Aoi mumbled under his breath but Y/n didn’t bother to give him a response. 

She shook her head and smiled to herself. She adjusted her gloves and the ribbon tying her braids in a high ponytail before walking out of the locker room. Aoi saw her before she could see him, as she was still trying to tie up her cloak. Aoi couldn’t help but notice how Y/n’s hero outfit looked on her body. His eyes kept trailing lower, and lower and lower, before- he looked away before Y/n could see him looking harder than he was supposed to. 

“Aoi!”

He turned and saw Y/n smiling down at him, “ready to go?” She asked, giving him a thumbs up. 

Aoi tilted his head at her, before giving her a nod and they both headed out for patrol.

                                                             ***

“It’s Magma!” A random voice yelled out. 

Soon enough a crowd started coming closer to the two partners, an annoyed face started growing on Aoi’s face while an amused was coming on Y/n face. 

“OMG, can I get your autograph!” A random girl stopped him and held up a picture of him and a pen. 

Aoi took one look at her before rolling his eyes and ignoring her request and continued walking. The girl’s face fell and Y/n went up to her to try to comfort him. 

“Sorry about him, he’s just a little grump-” The girl suddenly glared at Y/n which made her take a half step back in surprise. 

The girl said nothing but continued to glare at Y/n and walked away. Y/n stood there and wondered if she'd ever met the girl and offended her somehow. 

“Hey dumbass!” She heard Aoi yell out. 

She blinked herself out of her shock and looked ahead to see Aoi, with a bored look on his face, waiting for her a few feet ahead. She jogged to catch up with him and both of them continued walking together. As they walked around, they greeted the citizens going about their day, (well, by they, and it was really Y/n, Aoi just ignored everyone) and Y/n noticed how there was a certain group of 20 something-year-old girls following them and glaring at Y/n every time she looked at them. The group included the same girl who asked Aoi for an autograph, and they were just following them and taking pictures. She looked at the group and then looked at Aoi who was demonstrating his quirk for the little boy who ran up to him, (kids were the only people Aoi acknowledged when he was on patrol.) They squealed once he turned the metal disk into lava and played around with it. Once the molded the lava into the shape of a dog, he gave it to the kid to keep.

OOOOH, so they’re his fan club-

Once the boy ran back to his mom to tell her about how the hero Magma showed him how his quirk worked and what he gave him, Y/n walked up to him and tapped him on the shoulder. Aoi turned around and gave her a “what” look. 

“I think your girlfriends don’t like me,” Y/n pointed behind them to the group of girls. 

Aoi leaned over to the side and looked and saw the group of girls not far from them. Once they noticed him, every single one of them squealed and some of them even fell over. Aoi looked at the group of them as if they all ran into a surfeit of skunks. He shook his head and got up and continued walking. Y/n shook her head and quickly sped up to catch up to him. They both continued walking down the road when suddenly they heard a big explosion in the distance. Not wasting any time, both of them quickly ran to where the explosion rang off. 

The two of them took the skies, Y/n using her flames to boost her up and Aoi turning the ground into lava and it hardened to rock. They flew over the crowds of people running away from the explosion, which looks like it was coming from a very busy shopping center. In the corner of her eyes, Y/n could see other heroes weaving through the crowds rushing to the scene. 

“Salamander!” 

Y/n looked around and saw another hero, she couldn’t remember their name for her life, on the other side of the street, flying in the hair with her and Aoi. The hero flew closer to her until they were side by side and able to hear each other better.

“It looks like the people who are attacking the shopping center are with the same people who robbed that bank at your debut fight yesterday, so keep your eyes open!” 

Y/n thought back to her debut fight, and how the robbers all had a tattoo on their shoulders, and how they glared at her when they were being taken away. She smirked at the thought of meeting more of the people she fought on that. Aoi looked at her, wondering what they could have possibly said to her to make her look so determined.

“Oh, is that so?” Is all she said before increasing the amount of flames she was letting out, making her go faster. 

Aoi’s eyes widened at Y/n’s sudden action and increased his speed to catch up with her. Aoi tried to ask her what the hero said to her but his questions fell to deaf ears, all that was on Y/n’s mind was the possibility of fighting more villains who were a part of the same organization as those who robbed the bank yesterday. Aoi noticed this rolled him but kept his pace equal to his to make sure she didn’t do anything stupid.

The two of them got there and it was a mess, there weren’t as many heroes or sidekicks on the streets due to another situation that required the attention of the hero agencies in the area. There were more than what Y/n and Aoi faced that day and they were a lot stronger. They not only caused the flames to get bigger, destroying things, letting the flames of the explosion eat them, trapping some people in the stores. They were also attacking citizens at random but luckily a hero came and swept them away before the villain could do more harm. 

“Salamander! Make the flames disappear, and get those people out of the stores! I’ll get bystanders out the way!” Aoi yelled, already starting on his barrier. 

Y/n nodded, flying over the very large explosion and licking her lips in anticipation. Taking a deep breath, she began to suck in and swallow the flames in a great amount. She could hear footsteps rushing over, obviously, villains who were trying to stop her from swallowing the flames but heard the scream out in pain. She looked back and saw small blobs of lava on top of the villains who fell to the ground, withering in pain. She looked back up and saw Aoi and gave him a thankful look before continuing to eat the flames. 

Some more heroes came to help her out the flames out and some with abilities to withstand flames went into the fire to see if any innocent bystanders were hurt and needed immediate help. Soon enough, they were able to completely put out the fire and were able to adequately rescue everyone trapped in the stores. 

While she was taking a little girl and her father in the first aid zone, Y/n wasn’t paying attention to her surroundings and didn’t notice someone sneaking up behind her with a large sword. 

The little girl noticed him right behind Y/n and yelled for Y/n to watch out but Y/n was too late. She turned her head slightly and saw the sword but it was too close for her to dodge without putting the family in immediate danger. Y/n was ready to take the weapon, to give the family time to run, and hopefully, another hero would notice and rush over. Y/n closed her eyes and held her hands out to her sides to protect the family. 

But that sword didn’t make contact. 

Y/n opened one eye and saw a tentacle wrapping around the villain’s sword and another one wrapping around his body. 

“What the?” The villain started but didn’t get to finish as the tentacles lifted him up and smacked him into a burnt building, instantly knocking him out. 

Y/n and the family looked on in surprise and looked to see where the large appendages came from. Standing at the end of them connecting to his fingers, was Tamaki. 

“Amajiki-san?”

[hearteyesbowen]

boy next door ☆ joshua bassett

y/n meets the boy next door, who has a different way of welcoming you to the town

warnings: fluff, steamy writing

♡ ♡ ♡ ♡

Your phone barely clutched to your shoulder, gradually slipping from the pressure of your right cheek. Your hands would have been a nice thing to have at the moment, if it weren’t already carrying two heavy cardboard boxes that barely let you see the door to your new apartment.

It was your parents who helped you find your own place to live. You stayed with them for a year after high school as you suffered to balance a part-time job and studying miles away from your parents’ house. Fortunately, a large apartment that didn’t have unreasonable rent and stationed fairly close to your school would be discovered by your father.

The apartment was beautiful. Dark brick exterior with about 15 stories, each lined with balconies extended past large windows from each room. Bushes fenced the perimeter of the building, some sprouting bright flowers from the spring. Inside was simple, clean, sleek. Rows of mailboxes greeted the entrance, and a marble desk sat in the center with lovely woman greeting every trip from your car to your room.

Moving out on your own was never easy. You weren’t worried about being alone all the time and have to worry about intruders breaking into your home, at least not all the time. Having to make new friends, that was the issue. Sure, you could invite your friends who lived at least an hour drive away from you, but you would eventually have to be an adult and introduce yourself to other people.

“Yeah, Mom, I know. Yeah- I know. Yes, yes, ok Mom. Got it, I will. Yea- love you too. Ok, bye now.”

You heaved, both from the amount of work it took to finish talking to your mother and the mountains of steep, tile staircases you hide to endure. You had also forgotten until your last journey from the car that there was an elevator parallel to the staircase you have been marching up the past 10 minutes. Luckily, you lived on the fifth floor, so not much harm done.

Your phone had been on its last grasp, struggling to keep its hold on the burning skin from your cheeks and the smooth fabric of your shirt. The tension in your neck continued to grow the more you held the uncomfortable position, almost as if it were about to snap.

“Need help, ma’am?”

The sudden male voice grazed over the gentle skin on the back of your neck, startling you and jolting your body. You managed to maintain your clutch on the boxes, but your phone had slipped off of your shoulder.

You squeezed your eyes shut, anticipating a crash and hundreds of new cracks on its screen. After about ten seconds, the halls remained silent. Confusion took over, so you pryed your eyes open to wonder where your phone had gone.

“Here, let me help you.”

From the corner of your eyes, a figure walked from behind you to your front, grabbing one of the heavy boxes and setting it down on the floor beside him. You sighed in relief, the feeling of exhaustion replaced by alleviation. You placed the package you still had down on the tile, stretching your arms from the soreness building up.

“Thank you so much, you have no idea how much that helped me.” You smiled.

Your smile turned into awe once you fully took in the boy in front of you. He had fair skin, hints of pink blossoming from his cheeks to his nose and parts of his chin. His eyes were dark brown, like a cup of coffee you endulge in as much as you could. Loose brown curls framed his head, you didn’t have to feel it to know it was soft. It was as if you found the definition of the perfect man.

“No problem. I caught your phone, by the way.”

He held out his hand that gripped your phone. You gave him a smile, hoping you didn’t show too much of your flustered appearance. You reached for your phone, barely touching the tips of his fingers. That little interaction sent a wave of shivers through your skin.

“Thank you, you’ve been so helpful today.”

“Well, I’ve been hearing a pretty voice walk back and forth through these halls so I figured I would help. Nice to know the lady with the pretty voice and the equally as pretty face lives across from me.” He complimented. “Sorry for not getting you a welcoming present.”

Your head felt like it was burning. He managed to sweep you off your feet and you didn’t even know his name.

“I’m so rude. I never got your name.” You took the phone from his hand and shoved it in your back pocket.

“I’m Joshua, but you can call me Josh.” He offered his hand once more for you to shake.

You gratefully held his hand, instantly noticing how soft and warm it was in yours. His eyes shifted from you to your hands, and his grip tightened by the slightest. You didn’t mind, you could have stayed like that forever.

“Y/N.”

“I like that.” He mumbled.

This boy was so hypnotizing. Everything about the way he looked at you to the small grin on his face and the way he stood taller than you captured you. He’s made you forget all your priorities, like how you just moved.

You shook your head, realizing you would only waste more time to completely unpack your apartment by staying with Josh. You let go of his hand, internally kicking yourself for wanting to do anything but stare at this boy.

“I should really unpack, I wouldn’t want to sleep on the floor tonight. Thank you, for helping me.”

You began to pick up the forgotten box. You felt him watch the way you kneeled down to get a stronger grasp on the cardboard.

“I could help you, if you want.”

You turned around to look at up him once more. He reached for your hands, gently placing his on top of yours to get a hold of the box.

“I have nothing to do today, anyways.”

You laughed, shaking your head at his nervous smile. Yanking the box and your hands out of his, you turned around opened the door to your apartment you left unlocked.

“Come on, pretty boy. There’s a box on the floor.”

➢➣ ➢➣

You two managed to finish unpacking the rest of the boxes from your car. Yesterday, your dad had helped bring in the mattress of your bed, the couch, and some of the tables and desks you had. Today was just to furnish the rest of the house with smaller appliances and other decorations.

In the three hours you spent with each other, you and Josh had become friends. While arranging your clothes in your closet, he would play around with the teddy bear from your mother or ask you questions about each photo you hung on your wall.

“So what do you do for a living?” Josh wondered.

You sat on top of the glass counter in your kitchen, your back pressed against the dark oak cabinets. Josh stood across from you, leaning against the surface. He looked at you with focus, wanting to know more about yourself.

“I work part-time at a cafe, but I’m also studying at college.”

“Looks like I’ll be stopping by the cafe more often.”

You giggled, hiding your blushing face with your hair. “What about you?”

“I’m an actor.”

You squinted your eyes. His smile grew wider at your reaction. Your head clicked, just as you remembered the memories of your friends screaming over a boy on a new tv show. You never gave interest, you didn’t watch tv as much. The name they screamed stuck with you, however. You didn’t get to see what he looked like, just that he was young, attractive, and has “the voice of a god.”

“Joshua Bassett?”

He laughed, pushing himself off the counter to slowly step up to you. “Yeah?”

“Like the guy from that one Disney show?”

“Yes?”

“As in, the guy my friends won’t shut up about?”

“I suppose.”

You let your head roll back, hitting the cabinets as you closed your eyes. Embarrassment overcame you. How could you have gone this long without know who he really was?

“I’m an idiot.”

“Nah, you’re just cute.” He complimented.

He was now only a few feet away from you. His eyes wandered around your body, making you feel a sudden feeling of confidence. Maybe your feelings weren’t one-sided.

“Does being an actor change how you feel about me?”

You slid off the counter, jumping onto the wooden floor beneath you. Your hands found there way inside the back pockets of your jeans. By now, his chest gently grazed yours as he stood directly in front of you.

“I don’t know, maybe I should ask for your autograph and get a picture with you. It would make my friends really jealous.”

You watched him let out a small laugh. His hands gripped the counter on either side of you, trapping you between him. Your faces were close, yet not enough to feel any excitement.

“Would you want that?” He asked lowly.

“Consider it a welcome present.”

“I have a better idea.”

His lips found yours for a soft, slow kiss. You quickly cupped his face, loving the way your lips molded together so perfectly. You didn’t realize how much you have wanted this until now. The feeling of his hands at your hips, holding you in a safe and comforting way felt so right. You pulled away, slowly opening your eyes to see his wide open as you continued to hold his head in your hands.

You smashed your lips back onto his, moving your hands to his hair and gripping it tightly between your fingers. He moved his hands to your butt, lifting you up. You wrapped your legs around his waist, not breaking the kiss as he cautiously found his way to the couch not too far away from your kitchen.

Gently, he set you down so your back would softly rest on the cushions and your head would lay on the small pillows. His body was in between your legs that were still wrapped around him. His lips traveled down, leaving warm kisses from your cheek to your collarbone. You hummed in response, pleasure fogging up your head. There was a fire in his touch, one that you had never felt with any of your past partners. He made you feel special, like you were his. You didn’t mind, being held by him, feeling his lips capture every part of your neck was something you could get used to. He began to suck in a gentle spot under your ear, earning a quiet moan escape your lips automatically. You grabbed his chin and brought his face back up, continuing your make out session. His hands traveled to the waistband of your jeans, beginning to untuck your shirt.

You pulled away softly, earning a worried reaction from him. You had just reaIized what you had been doing, how quickly a nice conversation turned into a hookup. It didn’t bother you so much, but you wanted to know what he felt.

“Sorry, I’m moving a little too fast.” He whispered, regret laced in his words.

You pecked his lips reassuringly, making him eagerly pull you back into another kiss. You gave him a gentle smile, making him feel better.

“I like you, Josh. You’re sweet.”

“Can I take you out then?”

“You could take me to my room.”

His smile intensified, kissing you once more. Lifting you up, you laughed at how excited the boy next door was to be with you. He looked up at you, bringing another kiss to your lips.

“Deal.”

A/N - ive been lacking lately y’all im so sorry ): also if u requested something im doing my absolute best to get it written , ive just had to deal with a stupid amount of school work ugh . hope u like this story ive had in my drafts for a long time , another post coming saturday !! love y’all xx

[catlynhoss05]

My Blonde Beauty

Ch. 1: Like A Rodeo

(Link is to a picture of what the reader's eye's look like)

Pairing: Jethro Gibbs x fem!reader & fem!reader x mother!Reba

*not my gif*

Set in season 8 (yes I know, Emily Fornell doesn't show up until probably season 11, but I really don't care)

Summary: Gibbs is in for a big surprise when he meets a beautiful famous singer and falls in love with her.

   Jethro was weaving through the crowd with his hand on Emily's head. He didn't want to risk losing her in the mess of people. He had decided to take Emily to a rodeo that was in town. Because he knew that one of her favorite singers was singing the National Anthem and was going to ride a bull and a few other events. Also, Jethro had figured that she would love to meet her.

   He quickly finds them a seat in the front row to escape the crowd. Jethro had chosen the seats that they got because he wanted Emily to have a perfect view of the rodeo and of the singer, of course. Once the rodeo announcer's voice came over the speakers, everyone had taken their seats and quieted down. "Ladies and gentlemen, please rise and remove your hats for the National Anthem." The crowd stood for the National Anthem. A young woman in a red plaid shirt, light blue boot cut jeans, brown pointed toe cowboy boots and red chaps had stepped out into the arena and started to sing. Jethro felt his chest tighten, but not how it normally did when he heard the song. Wow, she's amazing. Jethro had thought to himself.

   After the song was over, the young woman had made her way out of the arena to go and get her horse ready for the barrel racing and the roping events. When it was her turn for both events, she had gotten perfect scores for both. Jethro and Emily were both in complete shock after watching both of the events. When it came to the bull riding event, Jethro was left taken aback from this gorgeous woman's bravery. "Isn't she amazing, Uncle Gibbs?" Emily asked with a wide smile as they made their way over to where the young woman was doing autographs and taking pictures with some fans at an entrance into the arena.

   "Yeah, she is. She's very talented and very brave." Jethro smiled down at Emily as they waited in line. As they were the next ones in line for a meet and greet, Emily was getting even more excited with each passing second. Emily's finally going to meet one of her absolute favorite singers, (y/F/n) McEntire. When it was their turn to meet her, Emily was ecstatic to finally meet her. "Hi." Emily couldn't get anything else out but a greeting.

   "Hi. How are y'all doin'?" (Y/N) asked with a bright smile as she signed a picture for the girl. "We're doing great. You're amazing and very brave to get on that bull." Emily said. "Well, thank you. You're too sweet. I had actually grown up around all this stuff and on a farm in Oklahoma. Ya know, you have beautiful red hair like my mama." (Y/N) smiled as she handed the girl the signed picture. She looked over at Gibbs and winked at him, making his cheeks go pink. "Who's your mom?" Emily wondered. "Reba McEntire. She had adopted me when I was 2 years old after my parents had passed away." (Y/N) said as she made full eye contact with Jethro for the first time. Jethro could get completely lost in (Y/N)'s gorgeous deep blue eyes for forever if he could.

   "Hi. You must be in charge of this beautiful young lady." (Y/N) smiled brightly at Jethro. He's completely lost in her eyes before he finally realized that she had said something to him. "I'm so sorry. Yes, I am. I've been close friends with her parents. I guess I'm like an uncle to her. Jethro Gibbs." He said, extending his hand out to her that she gladly accepts. Emily elbows him lightly to try and get him to ask (Y/N) out on a date. Emily rolls her eyes at him when he gives her a confused look.

   "My uncle here would like to ask you if you would like to go on a date with him." Emily said, causing Jethro to blush deeply. "That's probably the nicest way I've ever been asked out." (Y/N) laughed a bit, taking a pen and writing her number on the back of Jethro's hand. "Is that really the nicest way someone has asked you out?" Jethro asked as he watched her write her number on his hand. He couldn't help but enjoy the way (Y/N)'s hands felt on his. "Yes, really. There you go. It was nice to meet you both, but I gotta get goin'. Call me sometime." (Y/N) kissed Jethro's cheek and winked at Emily before running off.

   When Friday morning had come around for Jethro and his team, there were no new cases for them to solve. The whole day consisted of paperwork for the whole team. All morning, Jethro couldn't help but think of the beautiful woman that he had the pleasure of meeting the previous night. The way her long blonde hair fell perfectly around her face that was up in a gorgeous French braid just moments before. The way her stunning blue eyes sparkled in the overhead lights and the way she smiled at him. Around noon, Jethro had decided to go call (Y/N) and to her out on that date.

   "Hello?" (Y/N) answered her phone on the second ring. "(Y/N)? It's Jethro Gibbs." He said with a smile on his face. "Hey, Jethro. What's up?" She asked sweetly. "I was calling to see if you would like to go on that date with me. There's this nice little diner near here that has really good food." Jethro said as he looked around to make sure that none of his agents were around. Especially Tony DiNozzo. Jethro likes to keep his personal life, well, personal and away from the office. "I would absolutely love to, Jethro. How about tonight at 7 o'clock?" (Y/N) asked. "Yeah, that sounds great. Where are you staying at so I can pick you up?" Jethro wondered. "I'm staying at the Adam's House Hotel." She replied. "Alright, sounds great. I'll see you tonight at 7 o'clock." Jethro smiled into the phone. "Alright, I'll see you tonight. Bye, Jethro." (Y/N) said and hung up. Jethro smiled, pocketed his phone and went back to work.

   When Jethro walked back into the bullpen and back to his desk, the other three agents noticed the smile on his face that he was trying to hide. "What was that about, boss? Do we have a case?" Tony asked. "No case and it's none of your business, DiNozzo. Get back to work." Jethro orders. For the rest of the day, Jethro had a smile plastered on his face and was in a relatively good mood. Ziva knew exactly why Jethro was in such a good mood and why he was smiling when he returned back into the bullpen.

   Tony and McGee kept looking up at their boss every few seconds to make sure that he was alright. When 5 o'clock came around, Jethro didn't hesitate to leave work on time to get ready for his date. "Have a nice weekend. See you guys on Monday." Jethro said as he made his way to the elevator. Tony and McGee looked at each other confused. "Ziva. Do you know what that was all about?" Tony asked as they all packed up their stuff.

   "Yes, but I'm not telling either of you." Ziva glares at the 2 men. Tony frowns at the response. He turns to his partner in mischief; McGee. "Well, McGee. Looks like it's time for a steak out." McGee looks incredulous. "Tony, he'll kill us both if he finds us following him." McGee tries to reason with Tony. "Let's just go ask Abby to see if she knows anything." Tim suggests. "Ask if she knows about what?" Abby said as she walked into the bullpen.

   "Do you know what's going on with Gibbs? He's been smiling since he made a phone call at lunch, been in a very good mood and just left on time for once." Tony explained with a questionable look on his face. "Woah, that is weird. But, all I know is that Gibbs had taken Emily to the rodeo that was in town last night. And, if he has met someone, he will tell us when he's ready. So, c'mon boys and Ziva. Let's go home." Abby said as they all walked to the elevator to go home.

   On his way home, Jethro stops by the store to pick up a bouquet of beautiful red roses. Jethro got back to his house. 'It's been a while since I've been on a date with a woman. I don't even wear cologne.' He thought to himself. He quickly gets cleaned up and changes into nice, clean clothes and tries to fix his hair a little bit. He grabs the bouquet of roses, leaves his house and makes his way to the Adam's House Hotel. As Jethro arrives at the hotel, he parks his truck, grabs the flowers and makes his way into the hotel.

   As Jethro made his way into the hotel lobby, he saw the beautiful woman that he met the night before, sitting comfortably on the couch. She was wearing a nice black plaid shirt, blue bootcut jeans and her black pointed toe cowboy boots. 'Man, she's absolutely gorgeous.' Jethro thought to himself. (Y/n) looked up from where she was sitting on the couch, making eye contact with the handsome man she had met at the rodeo. She stood up and made her way to him as he was making his way to her as well. Jethro couldn't help the smile that crept onto his face as he approached (y/n).

   "Hey, (y/n). You look absolutely…… amazing." Jethro said as he hugged her close. "Well thank you, Jethro. You look absolutely ravishing." (Y/n) smiled one of those million dollar smiles. "These are for you." Jethro said nervously, handing her the bouquet of roses. "Aw, thank you. That's so sweet of you and how'd you know that roses are my favorite?" She asked, a light blush creeping onto her cheeks. "Just a lucky guess, I suppose. Are you ready to go on our date?" Jethro asked, offering her his arm. "Yes, I am. Such a gentleman." She smiled. "I try. Especially for someone as gorgeous as yourself." Jethro smooth talked as he opened the passenger side door of his truck for her.

   As Jethro pulled out of the hotel's parking lot, he glanced over at (y/n), who was looking out the window and checking out D.C.. As she turned back around to face forward, she smiled as she felt him glance at her a couple times. "So, what do you do for a living?" (Y/n) asked. "I'm a Federal Agent with the Naval Criminal Investigative Service, or NCIS for short. We investigate crimes against the Navy and Marine Corps and their families." Jethro explains. "That's amazing. You're a Marine, correct? Well, veteran." She asked. "Yes ma'am. Once a Marine-" "Always a Marine." She finished. Jethro's amazed by her. After talking for a bit, Jethro turns on the radio and the first song that's being played is her song called 'Vandalized'.

   "Hey. It's one of my songs. 'If I was a wall, you'd take a can, And spray paint, paint all over this man.' (Y/n) started to sing and Jethro was in complete 'awe' of her. She looked over at him as he pulled into the parking lot of the diner. "What?" She asked with a sly smirk as Jethro parked the truck. "What?" He asked, confused. "You just looked like you were about to say something. That's all." She takes her seatbelt off and he does the same. "I was just amazed to hear you sing. You have a beautiful voice and you're amazing. And, not just at singing." He winked at her as they got out of the truck and headed into the diner.

   As Jethro and (y/n) enter the diner, (y/n)'s a bit surprised that she's not getting bombarded by fans. Jethro had made a call to the diner saying how he wanted to make this date as 'normal' for (y/n) as he could. Jethro wanted to give (y/n) the experience of a life outside of fame. Even if it was only for an evening. He escorted her to an empty booth by the windows. "This diner is nice, Jethro. I love the feeling it gives." (Y/n) said, smiling shyly. "I'm glad you like it here." Jethro chuckled. The nice waitress behind the counter came over to their table.

   "Hi. How are you two doing tonight? May I start you two off with some drinks?" The waitress asked nicely "I'll take a coffee." Jethro smiled. "I'll take a coke and a small packet of peanuts if you have any." (Y/n) said nervously. "Yes, ma'am. I'll be back with your drinks." The waitress smiled kindly, making her way back to the counter. "What!? You'd be surprised with the things that I grew up with. Especially some of the foods." (Y/n) giggled. "Really? What kind of foods did you grow up with?" Jethro asked with a smirk. "Have ya ever heard of mountain oysters?" (Y/n) asked as the waitress, Elaine, came back with their drinks.

   "Here's your coffee and here's your coke and peanuts. Have you two decided on what you want yet?" Elaine asked with a bright smile. "I'll take the usual, please." Jethro smiles. "And for you, miss?" Elaine asked kindly. "I'll just take a cheeseburger and some home fries, please." (Y/n) said politely, with a gentle smile. "Alright. I'll put these orders in for you two and I'll be back." "Thank you, Elaine." Jethro smiled. He turned his attention back to (y/n) and gave her a content smile. "A cheeseburger on the first date. That's something a bit different than I normally see women order."

   (Y/n) took a drink of her coke and peanuts before responding. "Lemme guess. They'd normally order a salad on the first date." (Y/n) chuckled. "Usually, but not always." "Well, I usually don't go on many dates. But when I do, I normally order a salad when I know that I won't be seeing that person again." (Y/n) chuckled nervously. Jethro leaned forward, resting his elbows onto the table and taking one of (y/n)'s hands in his. "Do you really want to see me again after tonight?" Jethro asked cautiously. (Y/n) gave him a promising smile and a slight nod. "Yes, of course. Only if you're wanting to see me after tonight as well. And, if you would be willing to experience a busy schedule like mine." (Y/n) bit her lip and had the look of hope in her eyes.

   "I'm glad you said that because I'd like to see you more after tonight as well." Jethro smiled. After Elaine brings their food out, Jethro and (y/n) get lost in conversation while enjoying their food. Jethro asked (y/n) about her childhood and what it was like to grow up in Oklahoma. (Y/n) asked him about his life before joining the Marines and about Stillwater, Virginia. When they finished their food, Jethro was about to grab the check when (y/n) snatched it out of his hand. "Jethro, you drove. Please, lemme get this. It's the least I could do." (Y/n) said with a smile. "Alright. But, only if you'll tell me what mountain oysters are." Jethro chuckled. (Y/n) leaned forward so that no one else could hear her besides Jethro. "Mountain Oysters are actually made from bull testicles." (Y/n) whispered, then standing up and making her way over to the register to pay.

   After paying the check, (y/n) came back over to where Jethro was sitting, staring wide-eyed at the table in front of him. "Jethro, are you okay? Sweetheart, please blink." (Y/n) sat down next to him and rubbed his shoulder. "Huh. Oh, yeah I'm good. Are you ready to go?" He asked. "Yes, I am." (Y/n) stood back up and offered her hand to Jethro, who gladly accepted her hand. As they make their way back to Jethro's truck hand in hand, (y/n) noticed a camera flash from the bushes. "Jethro, run. Run to the truck. There's paparazzi." (Y/n) ordered, not wanting to have Jethro experience what paparazzi is like. They both sprint to his truck, he has her get into the truck through his side and he jumps into the truck after her. He then quickly, but carefully drives off.

   "I am so, so sorry Jethro. I was really hoping there wouldn't be any paparazzi around. I don't even know how they knew where I was." (Y/n) said embarrassed, as she sat in the passenger seat. "Hey, it's alright. It's all part of the job, right?" Jethro soothed, giving her a small smile. "I just didn't want to make you uneasy with all of the cameras and flashing lights. I would understand if you changed your mind about wanting to see me again after what just happened." (Y/n) said, looking down at her hands. Jethro reached over and took her hand in his. She looked over at him a bit confused. "(Y/n), I don't care about the paparazzi, or the cameras and flashing lights. Or, about the busy schedules. I still want to see you after tonight and take you on more dates. I want to meet your friends and family. (Y/n), I want you. I want to be with you." Jethro reassured her. (Y/n) smiled at Jethro. She let go of his hand, unbuckled herself and slid over into the middle seat. She took Jethro's right arm, put it around her shoulders and leaned a bit into his side as they made their way back to the hotel.

@garcia-reid-lovechild

[imagine-loki]

Gifted

Title: Gifted (Sequel to Giftless)

CHAPTER NO./ONE SHOT: 51/?

AUTHOR: nekoamamori ORIGINAL IMAGINE: 

Imagine that you are Stark’s niece and you secretly share a strong relationship with Loki since he entered the crew. One day you get hurt so bad during a mission that you are about to die.  Loki knows a spell that will save you and share his immortality with you but you and he will be linked forever sharing thoughts, pain, emotions…

RATING: T NOTES/WARNINGS:  Also on AO3 click here

You spent the next day showing Sif, and to a lesser extent Thor, around the city. Thor was acquainted with Earth from living with the team.  You did the touristy things and also made a point of taking her to the movie theater so Sif would get the experience. She was delighted to see the Avengers movie that was currently in theaters and was excited when she realized that you and Loki were actually in the movie. You showed her Superhero Musical when you got home that afternoon to make sure she saw the original before she went home. She had seen the play version with you on Asgard, but she was excited to see the original.

Most of the supers had to spend a long time getting ready that afternoon and evening. The four of you didn’t and you got to enjoy a nice quiet afternoon instead. It was way more fun watching everyone else get ready frantically. About a half-hour before you had to leave for the ball, you and Loki used magic to create outfits for your four-some. Tony growled at you later when he found out that you had used magic to get ready instead of dressing the human way.

Especially when you hadn’t used magic for him as well. 

You didn’t know how Loki managed to convince you to wear a Asgardian style dress for the event, especially when Sif was wearing an Earthen style ball gown and the boys were in tuxedos. It was only because it was your favorite gown from Asgard that he even managed to convince you to wear it. It was the dress that you wore for the soulbond ceremony, a dark blue gown with golden sparkles throughout, looking like stars that were falling into the border of golden sparkles at the bottom of the dress. It was gorgeous, extremely flattering, and fit you like a glove. Your mask for the ball was the same dark blue, with a golden border. It was fastened with magic, so you didn’t have to worry about it not fitting, falling off, or messing up your hair. Loki also did some tricky little piece of magic so the soulbond marks on both of our arms glowed lightly.

“What are you up to, Trickster?” you asked him. He’d done one too many little odd things over the past couple of days and it was suspicious.

“I just wish for my lady to look her best for the ball,” he protested a little too innocently.

You were distracted from questioning him further by your helpless uncle coming into the commonroom demanding that you tie his tie for him. You sighed, stepped up onto a box made of air so you could reach properly, and tied your silly uncle’s bowtie for him. Soon there was a line of helpless boys behind him, begging for your help. You rolled your eyes, but helped them with their ties and made sure they were presentable.

Fury himself did the final inspections of everyone before he led the procession of supers.  He wouldn’t let anyone appear not their best, or with the masks not perfectly in place that night. The ball was being held in a gorgeous ballroom across the street from the tower. The ballroom had been built here years ago expressly for this purpose. Part of the tradition of the ball was the procession of all of the supers across the street, lead by Fury. The press took pictures and the procession was broadcast live on TV, the street closed off for the evening.

Your entire focus in the procession was not falling on your face on live TV.

Fury made a speech once you were all inside, welcoming everyone to the ball and thanking them all for their generosity. All of the proceeds went to various charities around the city. There was also a silent auction for the charities as well.

The ballroom was gorgeous and exquisite. You grinned when you saw it. It was just how you remembered it being every year.

You saw a familiar wig of black hair in the crowd and dragged Loki over to see Tom. “Nice to see you here,” you greeted him. Names were not supposed to be used during the ball. It was tradition, though your superhero aliases were allowed to be spoken.

“It is a pleasure to see you as well, Lady Sigyn, Loki,” he replied. “You look lovely tonight, Lady Sigyn,” he added with a smile.

“Yes, my darling does look ravishing tonight,” Loki added, not possessively, but more that he wanted to make sure you knew you were beautiful. 

“Thank you both,” you accepted the compliment tonight, though you usually didn’t. Tonight was different. You had made a special effort tonight.

You left Tom shortly, you had other socializing to do. There was a little girl who was here with her parents who came up to you to tell you you were her hero. You chatted with her for a little while and gave her an autograph.

“Would you like to dance?” Loki asked as the musicians started to play the preamble, the announcement that the dances were about to begin. 

You nodded your agreement quickly. “Of course,” you replied. He offered you his hand in formal Asgardian escort. You placed your hand on his and you were among the first out on the dance floor.

You had so much fun dancing and socializing the night away. Everyone was so beautiful in their formal wear. “May I have this dance, Sig?” a voice asked between dances. You looked to see who it was. It was Tony. While it usually would have been embarrassing to dance with your family at a ball, it was tradition. Your parents had made us dance at least one dance together every year you had both attended the ball.

“Of course, Iron Man,” you replied. “If you’ll kindly excuse me,” you said to Loki.

“Of course, my lady,” he replied. You took Tony’s hand and let him lead you onto the dance floor. Loki and Pepper were right behind you. Tony was shocked that Loki had asked Pepper to be his partner for this dance. So were some of the people in the crowd. Loki was usually pretty stubborn about staying close to you.  Loki’s grace made up for any Pepper lacked, though, and their dance ended up being one of the popular video clips from the evening. You and Tony danced, both reminiscing about dances in the past that your parents had made you do. You briefly thought you saw a glimpse of mom in the crowd, in the fancy red dress she always wore to the ball, but that was impossible.

You also danced with Tom at one point during the evening, as well as a few others who asked for a dance. Thor asked for one as well. “Are you two having fun?” you asked while you twirled around the floor with him.  You hadn’t seen much of him or Sif during the ball.

“Very much so, little sister,” he replied with a grin. Loki was dancing that dance with Sif.

Shortly before midnight Fury stood back up on the platform that held the microphone. “It is now time for the super’s waltz. I invite every super in attendance tonight out on the dance floor,” he announced.

It was time.  The moment you had been waiting for was finally there. 

The supers all found your partners and made your way onto the dance floor. You had warned Thor and Sif, and told them that for tonight’s purpose they were supers, so they joined us on the dance floor. It wasn’t as if they didn’t know how to dance a waltz.  You all took your positions in a giant circle around the edge of the dance floor. You grinned up at Loki. You had been waiting for years to be able to do this and could hardly believe that you were finally able to after all these years. There were flashes of light from the cameras in the crowd and the news crews had video trained on all of your. This was one of the highlights, if not the highlight of the evening.

Soon the music began and after a few beats, the dancing began. It started with the basic steps, a simple pattern that the rookies would continue. Those of you with more experience soon broke off after the first full round of the circle, twirling in a more graceful complicated pattern in a smaller circle a couple paces inside the original circle. After one circuit around the dance floor of the more complicated pattern, the most experienced dancers broke off again into one final smaller circle of an extremely complicated, fancy twirling pattern in the middle of the floor.

/Ready?/ Loki asked after the second circuit of the new pattern. You took a breath and nodded. The two of you twirled alone to the exact middle of the floor for one final pattern of the dance. The crowd gasped. The other three patterns were common and happened every year. This one was new and you were the only ones practiced enough to pull it off. The crowd knew the dance, and knew that this pattern was new.

There was never anything new during the super’s waltz.

You had been practicing for a month, though, and were both excellent dancers to begin with, so you survived the dance, twirling with grace and a smoothness that the crowd envied. You knew that this would be the clip that was shown all over the news and TV for weeks from that night.

You were beaming in joy and excitement for the dance and sharing this fun with Loki.

The music came abruptly to an end. All of the dancers paused at the same moment. They were expecting it. You hadn’t been, hadn’t known, but managed to avoid losing your footing. All of the couples turned to face you and Loki, drawing the attention of everyone in the hall as they did. 

You gasped when Loki dropped gracefully to one knee in front of you and pulled a ring box from his pocket, opening it to display a gorgeous diamond ring in a silver setting. The room was dead silent. It seemed that everyone had been expecting this but you.

“I never thought in all of my life that I would ever find the person who I was meant to be with, would ever find my soul mate. I thought I would never find true happiness; that I was doomed to spend all of my days as the youngest prince, worthless in my Father’s eyes. You have proven me wrong on all of those points time and time again. You have lit up my life, my world, my entire being, since the moment I first met you. You have made me happier in the time that I have known you than I have ever felt in my entire life, and it is my heart’s truest desire to spend every single moment of the rest of my life giving you the same happiness. With that in mind, I have one question for you, my darling: Y/N Kathryn Sigyn Stark, will you do you the honor of being my wife?” Loki asked, loudly enough to have been heard by the entire room, even if the room hadn’t been so silent. You saw the moment of fear in his eyes as well as the excitement and joy. There was still a part of him that thought you might reject him, that you might say no. 

You felt the excitement like a spark, your heart racing in joy. “Yes!” you managed to get out through your feelings of joy and excitement. Loki vanished the promise ring on your finger and replaced it with the engagement ring in one movement as he stood to kiss you. You wrapped your arms around his neck, letting him lift you onto your toes as you kissed him deeply. The crowd roared in cheers and applause as you kissed.

You had to break the kiss too soon so you could get congratulations from your friends and family. “Congratulation, imp,” Tony grinned at you knowingly.  Of course he’d been in on this.

“You knew!” you accused him when you saw his grin. He nodded and pulled you into a hug.

“We all knew. Loverboy asked for your dad’s permission yesterday when we were at the cemetery,” Tony told you while he was hugging you.  Tony didn’t hug often, but he made an exception for you

“That’s what he was up to,” you grumbled. You had thought he’d been up to something. 

Tony laughed. “That’s also why Thor, Sif, and Tom are here,” Tony explained. “The hardest part was keeping the secret from you,” Tony let you go and pushed you toward the next will wisher, who happened to be Thor. Thor swung you up into a bone-crushing hug. As he swung you around, you caught a glimpse of your parents in the crowd. They were hazy, not quite real, but they were there. They both smiled and waved before they vanished. They had seen your moment.  They had approved and been here for you in the only way they could.

“Congratulations, sister!” Thor boomed, drawing you back to the present.. you laughed, knowing that he wished you well so wholeheartedly, even though he couldn’t possibly know exactly what had just happened.

“Thanks, Thor,” you replied, laughing at his enthusiasm. It took forever to get through all of the well wishers, but you finally got through them all and made your escape back to the tower before anyone else found you.

"Did you enjoy the ball?” Loki asked casually as you walked back across the street to the compound. He slipped off his tuxedo jacket and helped you put it on. You smiled at him; he was always the gentleman. The TV crews were still following us, too, so that would be on the air at some point.

“It was perfect,” you replied, wrapping an arm around his waist.

“I am glad to hear it,”

“And your surprise was perfect too. The ring is lovely,” you added now that you could properly admire the gorgeous ring he had picked out. “When did you find it?” you asked. He was rarely separated from you.

“The night Tony and I went on patrol together. Your uncle pretended not to be pleased to go ring shopping with me. The store was quite amused to have two supers ring shopping in costume. I am glad they kept their word and did not tell anyone of my purchase. I did wish to surprise you,”

“You succeeded. It was most impressive,”

“It was a close thing. You are too curious for your own good, and can see through my…misdirections… better than almost anyone else,” he laughed. He couldn’t lie to you and you both knew it. 

“By misdirections, you mean lies,” you returned the laughter.

“Lies? My lady wounds me!” he exclaimed, pretending to be offended.

“You are a creature made entirely of silliness,” you laughed at him and his mock offense.

“Chaos and mischief, love,” he corrected automatically as we walked inside the tower. You kicked off your heels the second you were safely away from the prying eyes of the press and vanished them, so you didn’t have to carry them upstairs. “Oh, I forgot to tell you, the ring is enchanted,”

“Naturally,” you replied dryly, earning yourself a chuckle. “What did you do to it?” you looked over the ring and kept getting too distracted by how pretty it was to see the enchantment.

“Nothing fancy. I just made it so it cannot be forcibly removed, or broken. We do not exactly have the safest line of work and I knew you would hate for something to happen to it,”

“Thank you,”

“You are welcome, darling,” he lifted your left hand and kissed your ring.

“I love you,”

“I love you too,”

“I should hope so. You did just ask you to marry you in front of our friends and family, and on live television,” you replied with a grin.

“Did you expect me to do it in a small manner?” he asked with a grin.

“Not at all, Trickster,”

[metahawke]

Watchdog Secrets (1) [A Clint Barton/Hawkeye Fic]

Main characters include: Female OC, Villain OC, Clint Barton (Hawkeye), Tony Stark (Iron Man), Pepper Potts, and more!

Word Count: around 4,690ish, give or take a couple of words.

Warnings: idk, curse words?

A/N: Hello! I’m @metahawke and this is my FIRST fic that I’ve written in about seven years. I hope that you like this first test run, I’m hoping to make this into a miniseries. If you have anything you wanna submit (tips, requests, ideas, criticism, etc) I’m totally open. If you like this, give it a reblog and a like if you’re feeling generous. I’m hoping to get more chapters up soon, possibly expanding to WattPad! 

Also, this fic features my first oc female character I’ve written for in a while. Hope you guys like her!

That’s all from me. Happy reading!

---

     “God there’s a shit ton of people here,” Kelsea muttered into the phone’s receiver. She was not even in the party yet, but from her car she watched the herds of people flood into the Stark Mansion. They threw their keys and fifty-dollar tips at the valets and waltzed in as if they owned the place. She still could not believe she agreed to come to this party, but if it meant her moving up in the firm then she hoped it would be worth it.

     Hoped. So far, the thought of bailing and driving straight back to Santa Monica sounded a lot more appealing than the possibility of getting the promotion.

     “Oh, you’ll be okay, it’s just for, what, an hour or two? Mingling with rich people and trying to get the hot shit on Tony Stark? Maybe even,” her friend faked a gasp, “The Avengers?” Faye replied. Kelsea could hear the eye roll in her voice. She did have a point, but these were not just some rich people; these were RICH rich people- connected to one another in even the most far out of ways and they all acted like the spoons they were born with were more silver than the last one. Almost every time she encountered someone from the wealthy side of the spectrum, their demeanor always changed when she revealed her occupation to them. Even in college she had people of the same suit basically turn their noses up at her and tell her she would never make it.

     Damn these fucking rich people, Kelsea thought. She sighed and rubbed her temple, trying not to ruin the face that Faye made her put on earlier that night. She didn’t care for makeup often, mainly because it hid her freckles that were a genetic gift from her mother.

     “Kels,” Faye sighed, “the Manhattan shit happened, like, last month or whatever, so you’ll be able to get any dirt just by inactively eavesdropping. You are gonna be fine. You are a hot, fierce, and stubborn-in-a-good-way twenty-three-year-old woman who will absolutely do the best job tonight. You got this.” Kelsea smiled, knowing Faye was right.

     “Now, I have to go. Tate and I have to go to his parents’ to house sit for the weekend. Don’t bail, but if you really need to, I’ll call you to fake an emergency.”

     “Alright, thanks, Faye.”

     “No problem, love ya kid.”

     “Love ya too, bye,” The line clicked and once again, Kelsea was alone. She looked at the key in the ignition and thought one more time if it would be best to just drive back and fake an excuse. That she got sick before she left and was not able to go due to hugging the toilet all night. Or even all weekend.

     “No,” she told herself, “I have to do this, I’ll be fine.” A small smile crept over her face after her miniature pep talk. She took the key out of the ignition, took one more glance in her rearview mirror for any last fixups and brushed her dark hair behind her ear in the process. When she stood, her knees ached slightly from the heels she decided to wear, but they made her look tall and made her feel confident.

     And she needed all the confidence in the world.

---

     Mixing in with another small group of wealthy elites, glittering with their thousand-dollar dresses and perfectly folded pocket squares, she felt plain and insignificant. Kelsea, however, persisted and climbed the stairs to the main entrance of the mansion. She entered with the group she was mixed in with and the sounds of voices, laughter, and music filled the space around her, and she almost stopped dead in her tracks. People were everywhere; waiters and waitresses from the catering company tended to the small cliques of individuals at the tables. Music played from the various speakers set up around the space. A silent auction was going on at the back of the party, benefiting some charity Stark probably picked out of a hat an hour before the whole thing started. Everything about the interior was what one would imagine: clean, modern, and minimalistic. It was nice, nonetheless, but without the people and whatnot it would be colder than a Minnesota winter.

     Kelsea surveyed her environment and her eyes landed on the bar. Since Faye can’t be here, alcohol will take her place, she thought to herself. She waited for the crowd to diminish and proceeded to order a neat old fashioned, receiving weird looks from other patrons as she got her drink. It was like they never considered that a girl that young would be drinking whiskey. She shot a nosy older woman and her partner a death glare and they both turned around back to their posse of other elites. Kelsea smirked to herself as she sipped on her rescue drink. The concoction burned her throat the first couple of times, but then started to go down smooth after she nursed it for a little while longer.

     With drink in one hand and her clutch in another, she made her way through the people to find an empty table to stand at. She found one closest to the window overlooking the cliff the mansion stood on. She placed her drink on the table and leaned against it, looking out onto the darkening ocean and complimentary skyline. After the moment of brief bliss, she looked around to make sure everyone was occupied in their conversations and carefully opened her clutch. She took out the issued earpiece her boss gave her to help with picking up dirt. Kelsea called it ‘low-grade spying’ but to her boss, it was just ‘fancy eavesdropping.’ She shook her head at the memory of that conversation as she placed the device in her ear. It blended in well with her skin tone (better than most bandages, she joked to herself) and was concealed by her dark hair. She opened the device app on her phone to configure it and make sure it did not deafen her when it was turned on. Once on, she tuned in and began her task.

     Knocking back another swig of whiskey, she casually looked around at the people. There was one woman with a green and glittery dress, a broach of some figure fashioned in gold on her chest, who spoke to a small circle of men and their wives. Laughter erupted from them as she told some story. From her earpiece it seemed like some anecdote from a golf benefit some time ago.

     Kelsea scanned more. The silent auction attracted a few partygoers, some pointing to the interesting artifacts on display. One man in a white suit admired the objects to the far right, along with another man next to him with a purple bowtie. Kelsea could hear him talking about how rare one of the objects was and how amazing it is to see it in person. Kelsea craned her neck a bit to see that it was just a replica of Iron Man’s glove. I can’t believe they think it’s even real, she thought. The real one would not look like a plastic kid’s toy. She gave them the benefit of the doubt, though, since it had Stark’s autograph on the back of the glove’s hand.

     More scanning, getting distracted, and looking out at the water. The waves crashed against the bottom of the cliff and allowed Kelsea to momentarily forget about the task at hand. This was the closest she had been to the ocean since she was younger. She and her parents had lived in the area for a while when she grew up, but they had moved to Minnesota, and later Nevada, due to “unforeseen circumstances,” as her dad liked to put it. Kelsea never pried or asked any questions about the move, but she did miss the water and her times at the beach.

     Her train of thought was interrupted when she saw a man approach her table. The man’s black hair was slicked back out of his face and tucked behind his ears, revealing a small piercing on his left ear. His silver eyes stayed on Kelsea until they got closer to the window. Her gut immediately told her that it did not trust this a single bit. She attempted to keep her composure as he stopped in front of her, looking out at the water as well. From where she stood, she could smell his cologne: dark, musky, and way too piled on. Kelsea had to hold in a gag.

     “It’s so calming watching the waves at night, wouldn’t you agree?” The man said, still looking out the window.

     “Um, yeah,” Kelsea managed to say. Even with one sentence he gave her uneasy vibes, ones that even she could not ignore. His accent was strange. She had heard something like it before but could not pin down when or where exactly.

     “I haven’t seen you at one of these before,” he said. The man turned to her and flashed a cocky grin. “Did you just get on the list?”

     Kelsea thought fast.

     “Oh, yes, my boss sent me in lieu of himself since he had a previous, uh, engagement. My company worked closely with Mister Stark, and now here I am,” Kelsea gave a small smile and shrug. At least she could lie damn well.

     “What company, if I may ask?” he leaned closer, the alcohol on his breath made Kelsea’s stomach churn even more.

     Shit, she thought. She gave a small laugh and took a swig of her drink. Without missing a beat, she told him, “Oh I work for the Hedlis Corp.”

     “Hedlis… I don’t think I have ever heard of that one,” the man speculated. Kelsea smiled, ignoring his comment. She was trained to handle pricks, but this one was especially prickish.

     “Oh, I’m sure you have, Mister...?”

     “Laksten,” he smiled again. “Andrei, but my friends call me Andi.” His hands moved closer to where Kelsea’s rested on the table.

     “And you, madam?”

     “Oh, I’m Elle,” Kelsea lied. She quickly glanced around the room to see if there were any exits. There was a staircase right next to the bar, a spiral that seemed like a beacon of hope for Kelsea in the moment. If she could run up and hide, she would be okay.

     “Nice to meet you, Miss Elle,” Andrei said smoothly. He went for her hand to bring it up to his lips, and she suddenly saw the tattoo on his other hand. The skull with the eight tentacles, enclosed in a circle. The symbol rested in the space between his right thumb and forefinger. She hid her shock well as she forced a smile as he kissed her hand.

     “So, Miss Elle, what do you do for the Hedlis Corp?” Andrei said. He apparently did not realize that Kelsea saw the marking. As she finished off her drink, Kelsea gave some nonchalant answer about being part of the PR team for the company. “Basically, a journalist of sorts,” she explained.

     “So, what is a PR journalist doing at an event held by Mister Stark?”

     “Well, my boss was not able to make it, so I offered to take his place. He trusts me.”

     “Ah, apparently so. You see very trustworthy,” Andrei purred.

     “Uh, well thank you, that’s very kind.”

     “And you said your boss was…?”

     “Oh, uh- “

     Kelsea was cut off by the sudden stop of the music as someone began announcements for the private auction.

     “Ladies and gentlemen! All partygoers! It is time for the winners of the Silent Auction, courtesy of none other than Mister Laksten and Mister Stark! Please come up so these fine ladies and gentlemen can give you the recognition you both deserve!”

     Kelsea looked at Andrei as he rolled his eyes but gave her another sly grin.

     “I must go, I will be back for you, Miss Elle,” he said. He strode up to the back of the party and shook hands with colleagues as he made his way.

     Without any more hesitation, Kelsea quickly made her way to the staircase, careful not to let Andrei see her leave. She mingled in with the crowd, making her way to the staircase. She made it to the bar as the announcer and Andrei were joined by Pepper Potts, Stark’s assistant. Making anecdotes for the crowd’s pleasure, they continued to wait for Tony to make an entrance. They seemed preoccupied, and nobody had bothered to pay any attention to the plain girl in the black dress as she dropped by the bar for another drink, straight whiskey this time, and slowly made her way up the white staircase. Her heels not helping her stay quiet, but again, nobody paid any attention. The crowd was growing restless for the arrival of Mr. Stark who was always fashionably late but made up for it with a grand entrance.

     Typical, rich, genius playboy.

     Kelsea made it to the top of the stairs and was greeted by dimmed lighting and a small lounge area. The landing at the top was a balcony that looked down onto the crowd, but with the dimmed lights, the main lighting for the party made it so barely anybody could see her from the floor. Kelsea took this into account and leaned against the glass railing and finally exhaled, not knowing she had been holding her breath that entire time. This time, she took a larger swig from her drink, feeling a light buzz as the alcohol went down burning again. College had made her a lot of things, but a lightweight was not one of them.

     She pulled out her phone to check the time. 10:42 P.M. the digital clock read.

     “Fuck me,” she muttered. It had not even been one hour since she walked in and what did she have to show for it? Nothing. She had nothing to go off other than Creepy Tattoo Billionaire Dude. Frustrated with herself, she turned back around to face the crowd to see if she could pick up anything else. Andrei had been a big lead, but she wanted to double-check if there were any others. She scanned the crowd, this time more carefully and paid more attention. Just as she tuned into a conversation held by the security guys in the back, a voice called out suddenly from behind her.

     Guards: “Fifteen minutes, we have to …”

     “I would rather not, but are we enjoying the view?”

     Kelsea jumped and turned towards the faceless voice. She heard footsteps coming closer from the deeper part of the shadows and after another second a man stood before her. She stared wide-eyed and gripped the glass railing, shocked to even see anyone else up there. He stared back with arms crossed and a concerned tone in his voice.

     “…everything should be in place, he just has to…”

     “Well? Are ya gonna explain yourself or will this end with me escorting you out of here?” He said threateningly. His voice was rough, rugged. Kelsea could not discern his face well but could tell he was looking her over.

     “I- I promise it’s not what it looks like, I- “

     “Yeah? You what? What is it supposed to look like then?”

     “I, I’m just-! I work for-! “

     Kelsea was cut off as music erupted from behind her and the crowd erupted into applause and admiration. Tony Stark had finally arrived. Rock music blared on the speakers as the announcer introduced him as “Iron Man, the World’s Greatest Hero!” Tony flew in on what looked like one of his newer prototype suits, decked out in the signature, shining crimson and accompanied by a translucent blue metal in lieu of gold. The new material showed off the wires and inner technology of the suit, giving it a more sci-fi look than anything. It was rumored that he created the prototype in his month-long hiatus he took after Midtown happened. The suit eased him down in front of the crowd and presenters as applause filled the gigantic space. The suit had mechanically retreated off Stark and flew off somewhere else all by itself. Most likely to his garage, assumed Kelsea.

     “Stark is going to be… Andi is almost ready…”

     “Hey, you haven’t answered my question!” The guy pushed. He took a few steps closer and Kelsea could see more of him in the light. His blue eyes were complimented by the dark navy suit he wore, their expression held a threatening look as he stood his guard. His hand was behind his back, and only Kelsea knew what could happen next if she did not think fast.

     Kelsea stood up straight and looked him up and down. As far as she could see, he did not appear to have anything major hidden under his jacket or anything. She looked into his threatening eyes, matching his glare with one of her own.

“I came up here to get away from a guy that was being a creep. I am here on business and I came in place of my boss, who couldn’t be here. I’m sorry if I’m not allowed up here, but the guy down there is bad news.”

     “Who?”

     “Andrei… Andrei Laksten.”

     The guy’s eyes narrow and held a more concerned look, as if Kelsea had told him he had just won a million dollars by simply breathing.

     “Why do you say that?” He asked.

     Kelsea matched his reaction and swallowed, worry about what would happen next.

     “Because he’s…”

     “…this place will be finished, we gotta get out through…”

     “AstroBoy won’t know what’s coming…!”

     Kelsea spun back to look at the bounders as they quickly and quietly made their way towards the exit. Andrei’s smile had gotten wider, more strained, as his eyes darted between Stark, the bouncers, and his watch.

     “Oh my god, Tony has to go!” Kelsea realized. The guy, who still stood in front of her, was alert at the mention of Tony.

     “What do you mean he has to go? WHO DO YOU-“ His voice started to raise, and Kelsea was not in the mood to attract any attention.

     “I’ll explain later, but we need to get him off the stage, and quick.” Kelsea quickly grabbed her phone out of her clutch and dialed into the number her boss had given her (in case of an ‘emergency’, he had told her.) She pleaded for the other end to pick up. She heard a click, then a quiet, “Hello?”

     “Da Vinci is about to fly into the river. Now,” Kelsea said sternly into the phone. A couple more exchanged words and a reiteration of urgency were followed by a click and Kelsea typed rapidly on her phone. The man stood gawking at her, totally unsure of what had just happened. He searched her face for some sort of answer, but he found nothing.

     “I have to go. Look, I’m sorry if you think I’m here to intrude, but I promise you, I’m not,” She told him, quickly swigging down the last of her drink and setting it on the railing. There was a brief pause between the two, silence mixed with disbelief. In that moment, everything was silent; even the crowd had momentarily paused.

     With a swift motion, she knocked the glass from the railing. Almost as if it were all in slow motion, it sailed down onto the marble floors below and disintegrated into pieces with a crash. The only sound in the seconds before chaos erupted, ignited by the tackling of Tony Stark by his security agents as a sound like a car crash made the whole mansion rumble. The bar had exploded, sending glass, wooden shards and burning liquid in every way towards the audience. Screams and confusion came about when the prototype suit Stark had worn shortly beforehand flew out from its hiding place and towards the front but did not go to Tony. It instead begged upon Andrei as he took it with (literal) open arms. His fang-like grin gleamed in the lights as the suit engulfed him, giving him the power over everyone in the room. He shot up to the ceiling of the room as he tried to get the hang of the suit. The crowd tried to run to any exit they could reach, but to their dismay, the doors were blocked by the now-rogue bouncers from the party. Of course, nobody would have suspected them at a party at Tony Stark’s mansion. Yet, here they were. The rich elites against a man with an iron suit and a small army of hulking men with guns drawn.

     “Come on!” Kelsea shouted to Mystery Man as she raced down the stairs to the front of the room. She cursed to herself, enraged by the fact that this happened before she could have realized it. That guy who confronted her would pay for making her lose her focus, she promised herself. As far as she was concerned, he had not even bothered to follow her. She did not care; her focus was to make it to the front and get people out of there. She made it through the sea of people, only to be met by the announcer cowering behind a turned over table. She went to yank him out of his hiding place when Andrei’s voiced boomed over the people with the suit’s speakers.

     “You all will pay for the mistakes of the Avengers! Hydra will live forever!” His voice sent chills down Kelsea’s spine as she attempted to get the announcer and a couple of donors to the next room over, an exit that the bouncers had overlooked that went out onto a deck on the cliff. She huddled them along the tables that had been knocked over and had almost made it to the end of the wall before Andrei shot through the table she crouched behind. The group she pushed made it to the other side of the wall and ran for safety, but the blow had knocked Kelsea to the ground. She looked up at Andrei, fear and rage filled her core as she stood up and wiped the blood from her cheek. She could feel his eyes pierce into her even from inside the suit.

     “You, especially! How dare you think you could even outsmart me, you little bitch!” I’ll make you pay with your fucking life!” He used the only working blaster-glove to fire at her as she dodged his attacks. She tried her best to get her phone opened as she used the remaining tables as coverage. She got her device opened and hit the kill switch which activated the detonation timer.

     “If I can’t get rid of the great Tony Stark, I’ll just get rid of every single one of you!” Andrei yelled at the cowering individuals still stuck without any shield.

     “I’ll even be fair and start with you, little bitch!” He screamed as he readied to fire directly at Kelsea. In that split second, however, she mustered her strength and threw the phone at the suit as the timer ticked down to one second. The next moment, another explosion came, and Andrei and the prototype fell mercilessly to the floor. The impact cracked the now dirtied marble floors and sent small parts from the suit flying in all directions. For a few moments, Andrei laid motionless and not one person made a sound. Kelsea arose and walked to wear the metal body sat. She approached it and nobody dared to move with her.

     She took another step and jumped as the iron body jolted back to life and tried to reach around her ankle. She screamed, but Andrei did not last much longer. As if in the blink of an eye, an arrow came whistling from out of nowhere and embedded itself into the missing kneecap in the suit. An electric current ran through it and shocked the entirety of the metal man that lay on the floor. Andrei ceased moving. No signs of consciousness besides the flickering circuit boards and frayed wires coming from the suit. The helmet’s eyes had stopped flashing imprecise Morse Code after the electric shock coursed through it.

     Kelsea caught her breath and looked up as she tried to find the source of the arrow. Her eyes landed to where she left the Mystery Man earlier on the balcony. She stared as he stepped forward, an industrial sized bow gripped in hand. Kelsea’s jaw dropped as she made eye contact with him. He only raised his eyebrows at her, almost in a cocky way. Her face filled with heat but before she could say anything, sirens filled the outside of the mansion and officers forced their ways into the house. They took down the bouncers who were still caught off guard by what the hell had just happened. Kelsea glanced back at the man in the balcony, but he was gone. It was then, as the police began to come into the building, that she figured she should probably disappear too.

     She headed towards the elevators, stepped in, and hurriedly pushed the ‘down’ button. After a minute or two it dinged, and she stepped off and into the workshop. She wandered around as she attempted to find signs of people. She tripped over stray pieces of machinery and paperwork before she finally found the door to Stark’s private office. Inside she could hear conversation and knocked before being greeted harshly by another voice behind the door.

     “Who the fuck is it?”

     “Kelsea. Open the damn door,” Kelsea replied equally annoyed. Slowly the door opened, it was revealed to be Happy behind the harsh voice who had greeted her. He quickly closed and locked the office door and Kelsea stood anxiously in the presence of the true elitists of the night: Pepper Potts was hunched over Tony, who was seated in his office chair and attempted to push Pepper off from tending to him. He did not want to submit to the pain, let alone any type of pain, even if it was just a couple of scratches to the face and hands. He winced, however, as Pepper dabbed at the minor wounds to clean them. The three security agents behind them stood emotionless. Just then, another knock came from behind the door and Happy answered with the same threatening question. A rough, familiar voice answered back and Happy unlocked the door. Kelsea turned just in time to see none other than Mystery Man as he charged into the room. Staring in disbelief, she was taken aback that it would be him of all people. The one person she wanted to may pay for basically ruining the night.

     He suddenly stopped midstride and midsentence at the sight of Kelsea. Almost on cue, they both opened their mouths at the same time.

     “What the hell is she doing here?”

     “What the hell am I doing here? What are you doing here?”

     “I fucking asked first!”

     “Oh, so you want to go down that route, do you?”

     Kelsea started to make her way towards him as he squared up to her. Before either one of them could throw the first punch, Tony yelled to knock it off.

     “You both are idiots who need to help us explain what the hell just happened out there!” Tony rubbed his temples while he talked indirectly to the two. Kelsea stepped away from her new nemesis and crossed her arms as she tried to ignore the heat rising to her cheeks. She opened her mouth, prepared to explain what had happened but Pepper stopped her.

     “We should thank Kelsea, Tony, for alerting us to get you to safety before things got worse than they did,” she said calmly. She looked at Kelsea and gave her a small smile of gratitude. The man behind Kelsea stood there in disbelief.

      “I’m sorry, ‘Kelsea’? Pepper, you know her? What the fuck is going on right now? How?!”

     Without missing a beat, Pepper stood up straight and turned to him with a piercing look in her eyes that told him he better stand down while he could.

     “Clint Barton, this is Kelsea Coach. My personal assistant and agent of SHIELD.”

x

[herstarburststories]

the night hurt us.

A/N: Hey. Hope you guys like it. I had to keep Jason from calling his S/O "doll" and similarities.

Also, we hurt in the night, so the night hurt us back and we hurt the night, and so the night hurt us back are so related somehow.

Beta is @lyss-91, thanks.

Request: Helloo, I was wondering if I could request a Jason Todd (Titans) where y/n and him are working together and one of them gets hurt badly leading to confessions (and possibly mild smut)?? Love your writing!! Thank you x

Disclaimer: mild smut (I haven't write any related to smut so it may be a not so good part), the usual violence.

━─┈ ✧

"Easy like that? The big bad bat let you go chasing your childhood idol?" You asked while punched another bag of ribs, making the man grow in pain. "I'm sorry. That wasn't the kind of moan you were expecting tonight?" You questioned rhetorically, disgust almost dripping from your tongue, so different of your tone just seconds ago.

"Yeah. Kind of. I need to hand him some fills. People he used to know are dying." Jason, or Robin as he was dressed of, explained and kicked the rapist's accomplice calf muscle which leaded him to fall on the ground. His face was already painted in blood, but neither of you cared. By how you saw it, he deserved it. Even worse. What kind of monster rapes 3 women in one week? Surely a type that won't be able to speak for months. "The police couldn't do their job as usual and they crawled to us. Batman told me to go after him with the information as soon as he noticed. He knew I wanted to meet the old Robin."

Jason's man stood up again, apparently not tired of getting hurt over and over again. Well, that wasn't the worst thing that Todd would deal with. In fact, beating up a freaking scoundrel constantly was very appreciated by him.

"Combine business with pleasure. Try not to pester him for an autograph." You teased him, a delighted smile on your lips. Jason lived for reading about Robin when he was younger, suddenly he became Robin himself and now the boy was going to actually met the first person who wore his cape. As you smacked the man you were fighting's jaw from the down to the top, a kind of selfish thinking invaded your head. "How long you will be gone?"

"Two days. A week if most." He shrugged, not really paying attention to that. Another punch, Robin huffed. "You are making it way too easy, man. But could I expected from a tool who covers his friends for fucking raping woman, huh?" Jason threw him against a vehicle, your car, often beating up his face. "Are you missing me already?"

"Please. It will be the best days of my life." You resorted his innocent, usual provocation. "And be careful with my car. I don't want his blood all over my baby." Hiding your early melancholy for being apart from home, even just for a little amount of time, you finished your criminal by giving him a knee against his teeth. Your lips opening way for the imagine of your own teeth, a proud smile giving in. Unlike him, there was nothing brooke inside your mouth. "Touch a woman one more time and what just happened will feel like a fucking carnival compared to what we are going go make you go through." You used the same offensive expression he'd call the girl who had ran away at the begging of this combat.

"That's hot." Jason smirked, referring to how you would handle that situation and put that asshole in his place, right after he stopped the hitting circle, throwing the unconscious man away. You rolled your eyes, checking if the man was still awake, your back facing Robin. Time for you to call the police, if the neighborhood hadn't yet. Since there was no sound of sirens, the answer must be negative. You couldn't say it was surprisingly. After all, that was Gotham. People didn't want to mess with maskered psychos or anyone else, to be exactly. "You know, you could co—"

Jason's speech was interrupted by a grunt. You recognized this hoarse voice, retraing his pain as if it was some sort of overload weakness. You worked with him on partner patrols for long enough to know how a hurt him sounded like. Yet you'd never hear that, a grunt substituted by a rigid shout. He was in more pain than you'd ever be conscious of.

When you turned around, ready to face what made your heart throbbing, the man who Robin fought was found with such a sharpy penknife embed in Jason's back. Before he'd attack him from the back again, you jumped his direction, your injured hand from the previously disturbance grabbing a knife to situate that on his skin. Which was made only a few seconds later, you stabbed his stomach twice and then rested your white weapon against his used hand to harm your friend. His whinny screaming got you even angrier.

"Shut the hell up. At least I didn't attack you from behind like a coward."  You growled, putting your knife back inside your night uniform, kneeling down beside Jason. "Robin, are you okay? Fuck, of course you are not okay. I'll call Alfred, just help me to get you in the car." You said exasperated. You never dealt with a situation like this. Sure, you did hurt a couple of bad people so bad they needed to rush to the hospital, even a come once. Through they were horrible human beings, your sense of revenge for the ones who couldn't get it themselves always louder than that tiny guilty part. You didn't care. Otherwise, you were in front of a bleeding Jason who couldn't even stand up straight this time. It was different.

Everything with him as different.

You put his hands over your shoulders while you held his torso, walking baby steps, calm and soft, there was no need to hurt him even more, when both of you attempted to reach the car. Ultimately, you opened the car's door and put Jason in, trying to be as gentle as you possible could.

"Thought you didn't want blood all over your precious car." His weak voice tried a joke, although it came out as coughs and drops of blood.

"For once in your life, Jason. Please shut up. For your own good." You replied, the tone coming out of your throat sounded fragile, almost like the closest way you'd be from begging.

"Come on, (Y/N). You are no fun. I'll be okay to rip off more stupids soon and—" He noticed your state, but didn't think it was serious. You were worried. As much as it pleased him a lot, it wasn't uncommon for someone to be a trembling mess when their friend was bleeding on teir automobile.

"Jason, please. If not for yourself, for me." After closing the back door, you went to the driver's place, sitting there and turning on your car. Jason was dizzy, in pain and feeling what he'd assume was his heart beating trough his whole body as he pressed his hand against the wound to keep blood from slipping away, but that scene was clear as looking at the sun: you, sat down, eyelids pressed together hardly, fingernails cutting part of your steering wheel because of how strongly you were holding it. That was just a microsecond before you recovered your mind and opened your fearless (Y/E/C) orbs, — a piece of fear inside them, pictures by non poured particles of water, tears of pure worry that you didn't let cross the line between your cheeks and the exterior world. — enlaced with his image on the car's prismatic rear-view mirror and speed up to the Batcave. Fortunately, one of your strong sides from your training were reflexes, so you were able to watch Jason, the street and call Alfred at the same time, the only thing you couldn't control, yet were so desperately making an effort to, were how your head ached from keeping tears, how your sobs choked you up, how you denied any thought on how may Jason didn't make it. Because he needed to. Gotham needed him to. You needed him to.

"Don't worry, Miss (Y/N). Master Jason will be recuperated soon." Alfred announced, taking off his dirty gloves, covered be the current Robin's blood, other liquids of his organism and medical things that you couldn't pay attention to. "Master Bruce will be here as soon as he can."

"Joker causing trouble again?" You'd ask, glancing an all tied up Jason. He looked better, indeed. Healthier. Alfread was such a lifesaver as he always had been, since Bruce was just a kid, even before Bruce was even born. For now, you were just grateful for him to be here.

"I am afraid so."

"Thank you, Alfred." You thanked him with a warm smile. He just nodded, grabbing his surgical tray.

"I will bring you some tea. And then let me exanimate you." Didn't sound like a question to your ears, because it wasn't. You pouted like a kid, but it didn't matter. Alfred had enough work on Jason, and calming you down while helping him. He didn't need to be busier now.

"Alfred."

"Please, Miss (Y/N)." You sighed, aware that would be a helpless cause. After all, some band-aids sounded good at this point.

"Okay." Then, Alfred left. And you are back to glaring Jason. Blood a hundred per cent inside him, exactly where it was supposed to be. His features calm, as if he was getting the rest he'd be rooting for. You put your hand above his, caressing it.

"I'm sorry, (Y/N)." A quiet voice spoke, and you raised your head, looking into his green eyes. "For worrying you."

"Jason, you are the one in this room who just got a kind of surgery or medical preceding, I don't care." You shook your head. The image of Jason between life and dead playing in your head like a sick game. "The fact is, you were the one dying. You shouldn't apologize."

"It was a stupid mistake. I failed somehow I shouldn't have." You took a deep breath, trying to contain yourself. Here he was again, too worried about his performance to even think about his life.

"Jason, you didn't fail. Everyone makes mistakes. Batman won't be disappointed on you and neither should you. Next time, watch your back. Be sure the idiot isn't up. You already know it, don't beat yourself for this slide. Just..." He looked down, facing your hand on his, such a beautiful contrast. The look in your eyes didn't leave his memories, how horrified you were. Adding the fact that Jason wasn't able to do nothing about it, that was what hurt the most. Not that fucking stab, or the stitches Alfred would use to fix him. What mattered were you. How scared you were. You needed him by your side and he wasn't there. "Just be happy that you are here. Alive. With me."

He looked up to you, his arm moving to place his hand on your face. Some annoying pain showed up, but he didn't mind. You leaned in to help him, your own hand making its way to his neck while the other one worked as your support, holding on his sretcher.

"I swear I won't worry you like that anymore." Jason caressed your chin. For the first time, you let a solitary tear fall down your cheek, which he quickly still delicate washed away. "I hate to see you cry, especially about me. I told you I would be okay. What's a stupid bastard against the fucking Robin?"

"Holy shit, I can't believe I'm in love with such an idiot." You huffed, closing your eyes, kind afraid of what he was going to answer.

"You better believe it. Because I'm an idiot and I'm also in love with you." He pulled you closer as your eyes opened. His finger stroking your skin, both smiling lips getting closer, closer, closer...

No one knows who started it, but a kiss emerged from a long time of secret feelings. Calm at first, just two young people trying to figure out how it felt to be adored, to be loved, to feel. It was like home itself, after waiting so long in a trip, you finally got where you knew that was your soul's place. But things started to get a little too touchy.

"Come here." Jason whispered between kisses, pulling you to the medical bed he was laid on.

"I don't wanna hurt you." You intercepted, biting his neck while both tried to regain oxygen.

"That's the last thing you will do." He said, his hands going down on your back. You grinned and got in the stretcher, carefully to not hurt him more.

Jason smiled openly, grabbing your butt as you came back to his lips. Your hand coming inside his shirt to touch his well defined abdomen. How long have you been dreaming about this? Being able to touch him regardless, hearing his moans because of how good you made him feel. And by the way he possessively hold your ass, you could tell he felt just the same. Sitting on his lap, it was obvious that Jason was getting very excited with your little foreplay. His kiss got rougher, you pressed your clothed parts together only to get that dense voice to moan your name.

Until another voice said your name.

"Miss (Y/N), could you get off Master Jason? And master Jason, let go off Miss (Y/N), please." Alfred walked in and you jumped off Jason scared, falling to the ground. Needless to say your soon to be boyfriend laughed his ass off after checking up you were okay.

[katedoesfics]

Shadows of Hyrule | Chapter 51

Link and Mipha were back sitting on his bed. After their guarded escape from the base, they made their separate ways, but only after Dorian strictly instructed them not to breathe a single word to the reporters – or anyone – about the attack and the rise of Ganondorf. And despite Link's interrogations, Dorian provided no answers to where the next portal was, and no explanation to the attack that just happened.

Mipha held his arm carefully as she worked to heal the deep gash he had sustained in the battle. Her hands were warm on his skin and Link felt very aware of her touch. His hard expression softened, and he could no longer focus on all his unanswered questions. When she finished, she let her hands linger on his arm for a moment longer before pulling away. Neither had spoken since they returned to his room, and the silence between them felt heavy, though Link was unsure why.

“Thanks,” he finally said softly. He let his head rest against the wall and closed his eyes.

“Of course.” Mipha's voice was just as soft.

Link opened his eyes and glanced towards her. Their gazes met and she smiled sheepishly. He realized, then, how close they were to each other, and he couldn't help but to lean closer to her. Mipha met his gaze, her lips pursed together.

There was a sudden loud knock on the door, and Aryll's voice shouted his name. Link jumped back, the distance between them growing dramatically, and he shot an angry glare towards the door. “What!”

The door opened and Aryll bounded into his room. “I saw you on tv, Link!”

“Great,” Link muttered. He pulled his knees to his chest and turned to Mipha, but she was averting her gaze, staring down at her feet.

“You too, Mipha!” Aryll continued. “I saw you all! You kicked butt!”

To Link's dismay, his father poked his head around the doorway. He studied them for a moment. “Fortunately for you, the camera did you a favor by adding ten pounds.”

Link narrowed his eyes on his father. “What do you want?”

His father crossed his arms and Aryll continued to jump excitedly around the room.

“You're gonna be famous!” she said. “And everyone's gonna want your autograph!”

“I hardly think so,” their father said. “In fact, their doing a hell of a job of slandering your names already.”

Mipha frowned. “Slandering us? How?”

He shrugged a shoulder and turned on the tv. A reporter flashed on the screen mid-sentence, her brows knit together with determination.

“...attack is unclear. Whether the legends are true or not, what is clear is that Hyrule is in grave danger.”

The screen flashed to another reporter who stood outside of the base. “The king has made no comments about the attack as of yet, but we'll stay on scene to catch the latest developments as soon as they happen. We're expecting the king will make a statement shortly. Until then, stay tuned.”

The screen flashed again, back to the newsroom where two more reporters spoke to one another.

“Can we talk about those kids for a second?” he said, turning to his partner.

“I can confirm that none of them are recruits,” she said in response. “And their ages are currently being questioned.”

“What in the name of Hylia would they be doing in the middle of a war zone?”

She shook her head. “We don't have any footage of the battle, either.”

“Do you suppose, then, that the legends are true? That we are supposed to put the fate of our world in the hands of a bunch of teenagers?”

“I have yet to see any proof that they are the living embodiment of Hylia and her supposed Chosen Hero. It's nothing but nonsense, and they're only going to get killed.”

The screen flashed to a woman who was being interviewed. “They're just children,” she said, her brows knit together. “Who could have allowed them to get caught up in this mess?”

The screen flashed to another interviewee. The man was clearly angry. “It's not right,” he said. “Especially if they're minors.”

The screen flashed to Dorian, making his earlier statement. The six wide-eyed Champions could be seen behind him.

Link got to his feet and shut off the tv. He turned to glare at his father.

“Don't get all cranky with me,” he said to his son. “Besides, this isn't your problem.”

Link crossed his arms. “I get no respect around here.”

His father grinned and turned to leave. “Yeah, get used to it.”

“I believe you,” Aryll said, turning her gaze to her brother. She smiled up at him. “You can do it!”

Mipha stood and sighed. “Now that my face is plastered all over the news,” she said. “I should probably go and prepare for the wrath of my parents.”

Link frowned at her. “I'll come to your funeral.”

“Thanks,” she said with a grin, but it quickly disappeared. Her stomach knotted with the idea of facing her parents and telling them the truth. She was sure they would be as doubtful as the rest of the world was. And, of course, there was no easy way to explain to them that their daughter was putting her life on the line every day for the sake of Hyrule.

“How did you convince your father to be okay with all this?”

Link snorted. “I didn't have to. He already knew.”

Her brows furrowed. “He knew?”

“It doesn't matter,” he said quickly. He hesitated. “I'd offer to help, but I don't think your parents would be very happy seeing me right now, either.”

“You're probably right,” she admitted. “It's alright. I'll be fine. I'll text you later.”

Though Link had no interest in the gossip shared by the news reporters across the channels, he waited anxiously for the king to make his appearance, staring anxiously at the screen. Aryll lay on her stomach on the floor, coloring in a coloring book and humming happily to herself while her father and brother sat on the couch.

“We're live in front of the palace where King Roham has just stepped out -”

Link cast his eyes back to the screen. The camera zoomed in and focused on the very serious looking king of Hyrule as he took his place behind a podium, ready to address the crowd of reporters and civilians that had gathered despite the late hour. They fell momentarily silent as the king spoke. Behind him, just at the edge of the view of the camera, Link spotted Zelda, her expression serious, yet she regarded her father with wary caution and curiosity. It seemed she was just as unaware of how her father would handle the situation as the rest of the world was, waiting patiently.

The king wasted no time with a needlessly long introduction, nor did he sugar coat the situation. “As you may be aware,” he began, “there was an attack outside of the city.”

The crowd began to murmur, but they fell silent once more as the king continued.

“I can assure you that the attack did not stem from our neighboring countries. Hyrule remains at peace with our allies.” King Roham hesitated, choosing his words carefully. “However, there is an evil that threatens this kingdom. The attack this evening came from Ganondorf's forces, which can only mean the return of the King of Darkness, Ganondorf himself.”

The crowd erupted at that moment, shouting their questions and accusations at the king. The reporters thrust their microphones and cameras as close to him as the security details would allow them, their faces mixed between anger, confusion, and fear. King Roham looked over the crowd for a moment, then raised a hand in an attempt to quiet them. When they did not, he continued, his voice booming as he spoke over them, and they quickly quieted once more to listen.

“I can assure you that I am taking every precaution to keep this city and this kingdom safe from Ganondorf and his dark forces. Troops have been stationed across the country and are prepared for whatever may come.” He paused, listening to the reporters as they shouted their questions at him. After a moment, the crowd quieted once more, eager to hear his answers.

“The legends are indeed true,” he said in answer. The crowd waited with baited breath. Zelda's eyes moved to her father, her lips pressed together as she waited, and he continued. “Though a grave darkness threatens our home, we are not without light, without hope. Just as we this kingdom has done in the past, we will overcome. We are prepared. We will stand strong in the face of evil, and we will keep this world safe from all who dare threaten it.”

Despite his confidence, many in the crowd remained skeptical, and their questions turned to the teens that were seen in the barracks. Though there was no footage to prove what had taken place on the battlefield, rumors spread quickly from those who had caught a glimpse of the heroes who threw themselves into the battle and came out victorious.

“There are many people involved in this impending war with Ganondorf,” he said simply. “It is their duty to ensure the safety of Hyrule, and it is my duty – the duty of our troops – to keep them safe. I can assure you that Hyrule is in the best hands possible.”

He was avoiding a direct answer, of course, but it was not enough for the reporters, and only angered them more. They demanded the truth. They demanded to know of the mere children and the roles they would play. They wanted answers.

“As you can imagine, the situation at hand is a very delicate one,” King Roham continued. “We are doing everything in our power to keep all involved safe and keep the threat of Ganondorf at bay. There will be no further questions at this time.”

The reporters lurched forward as the king turned to depart from the podium, but the security detail held strong against the rioting crowd. Zelda quickly followed her father into the palace, and the cameras turned violently back to the reporter. The woman stared open mouthed into the camera for a moment, but a voice in her ear caught her attention. Her expression hardened and she nodded once before speaking into the microphone with the news stations logo on it.

“It seems we won't be getting any more details at this time.”

The camera cut back to the two reporters back in the news room. They glanced to one another with wary expressions before regarding the camera once more. On news stations all across Hyrule, reporters were expressing their doubts towards their king's press conference, more questions raised than answered. It seemed there was nothing more they could do but utter gossip and wait for war to break.

[marquisoforder]

Mister Fahrenheit.

.

“I'm burnin' through the sky, yeah

Two hundred degrees

That's why they call me Mister Fahrenheit.”

- Don’t stop me now.

Queen

.

It was sheer luck that Magnus heard the doorbell over the deafening den of the party.

To be quite honest, he didn’t really have a reason to throw a party all of a sudden but with the news of everything happening in the world, the Mundane illness and the rumors of rogue vigilante Shadowhunters, he felt that he needed a little pick me up. Everybody needed a pick me up during these times. A little escape from the grimness of the real world. And when the word got out, swarms of Downworlders had come, each with lines of frustration, fear and uncertainty etched on to their faces; lines that disappeared once two shots of fairy gin went down and the upbeat rock music brought the now loosened limbs to the dance floor. And the influx of the guests did not cease. They kept coming in packs and twos and individually; vamps, werewolves, fairies, a couple of warlocks and one or two disgruntled mundanes who had been swept in with the crowd.

Magnus opened the door for the hundredth time that night, expecting another random face he remembered from some rave or another but couldn’t quite place, and stopped mid motion, the face staring up at him bringing back a flood of emotions and memories.

“Hello dah-ling!” The man with the mustache smiled, a quick, self-conscious flash of teeth that disappeared as soon as it came.

“Freddie,” Magnus breathed. “Freddie fucking Mercury. It has been so long.”

The man nodded but flinched visibly when the loud song playing in the party came to a louder end, enabling cheers from the throng of drunk downworlders inside.

“Come on in,” Magnus pulled him in by the hand and absent mindedly noticed how it felt a little different, a little thinner, perhaps?

“It sure is loud in here!” Magnus could faintly hear Freddie yelling as he dragged him through the throbbing crowd of swaying bodies, towards the bar in the corner of the room.

“It’s to drown the wailing of the damned.” Magnus grinned as they reached the bar and grabbed a couple of seats for them. The bartender, a fairy with shiny silver hair and striking lilac eyes (no whites at all) winked at Magnus before pouring both of them some dangerously shiny and equally slimy fairy drink that Magnus had no intentions of drinking. He left the drink alone and turned his full attention on the mundane in front of him, staring at the shiny green drink as if it had done him some personal wrong.

“What brings you here, Freddie?” Magnus smiled, laying a hand on his arm. “Surely the news of my little rave didn’t reach you all the way across the pond in England!”

“I was actually in the area,” Freddie replied, a faraway look in his eyes. “I wanted to see you. To talk to you about something. Didn’t expect to walk into a fucking rave at one A.M on a Wednesday night.”

There was a certain bitterness to his voice that made Magnus snap into sharp attention. It wasn’t ordinary for Freddie to be bitter. Sarcastic, yes. A little biting? Sure. But bitter? That was something entirely new for Freddie Mercury.

“What did you want to talk to me about?” Magnus asked gently, in the tone of a man trying to sooth a child. Freddie seemed to notice the change as a line on his forehead disappeared as he turned around to look Magnus in the eye.

“FREDDIE MERCURY?”

The Mundie was so loud his voice was almost heard over the sound of the amplified music. In any case it was loud enough to draw the attention of the crowd nearby. They descended on the celebrity like a bunch of starved paparazzi, asking for autographs, touching his jacket sleeve, (fairies. No consideration for personal space.) clamoring for a song and just generally yelling to get his attention.

Freddie looked half dead as he stared at Magnus for one long moment, but as he turned back to face the crowd of fans his countenance underwent a complete change. His eyes lit up with an energy that was hard to fake and the corners of his mouth tugged upwards into a smirk that dripped confidence.

It was like watching someone cast a glamor over themselves. A mask being pulled over the true visage. A curtain of bright happiness closing over a tragedy on stage.

Freddie stood up and beamed, talking to some people and signing things for others. Voices yelled and begged for a song. The dance floor gradually emptied as everyone gravitated towards the attraction of the night. Magnus felt the first light grasps of an oncoming headache.

“Freddie, give us a song!”

“Mr. Mercury can you sign my T shirt?”

“Sing something!”

“Freddie!”

“Freddie Mercury!”

“Freddie!”

The young performer turned to Magnus and nodded. It was all the initiative he needed to wave his bejeweled hand in a sweeping motion. He watched with disinterest as the familiar blue sparks flew and a grand piano appeared on an elevated stage in the middle of the dance floor. Freddie made his way to the beauty with a light spring in his step and ran a teasing hand over the keyboard before settling down. He hesitated for a moment before his fingers started the complicated dance across the keyboard, and a familiar tune filled the air.

“Tonight I’m gonna have myself, a real good time…” The hauntingly beautiful voice rang out and the bodies all around Magnus started swaying to the rhythm, almost as if an enchantment had been casted over all of them. Then again Magnus supposed Freddie’s voice was a magic of its own kind.

The tune picked up the pace and Magnus watched in fascination as Freddie’s long skillful fingers waltzed across the piano keys, the movement every bit as feverish as the gleam in his eyes. Magnus knew something was wrong. He felt it in his bones as he watched the young man perform, effortlessly exuding waves of uncontained enthusiasm that seemed to make the very air around him drunk. When Magnus let his body move to the rhythm it was like setting a bird free. His heart beat in his throat as his body found an output to all the frustration, pent up feelings and foreboding he had felt in the past weeks.

So he danced, hips swaying to the rhythm as he just let go. He had acquired an eager partner from the crowd though he had no idea how she came to be in his arms. Yet it was relieving. To be in the arms of a stranger, without a care in the world about what has happened or might happen. For that infinite moment, Magnus was Mr. Fahrenheit, with all the reckless abandon of a shooting star and the chaotic energy of a racing car passing by.

When the song came to its soothing end, made even softer by Freddie’s pensive voice, Magnus felt tears prick at his eyes. He did not know why, but everyone in the room seemed to be frozen in place, as if a prophet had revealed a dark and lovely Truth that left them entranced.

Freddie got up and bowed. The room erupted in cheers. But Freddie payed no mind as he made his direct way to Magnus and grabbed his hand.

“Come with me,” He said and dragged the dazed warlock towards the bedroom. His feverish eyes shone with a desperation that Magnus had seen before countless times on many faces.

It was a drowning man’s last cry for help.

Realization dawned on Magnus with the brutal force of a thousand meteors. Even as he was pulled into the room and the door closed behind them, he knew what Freddie was going to say.

“I’ve got it. The sickness. AIDS.” The blow was no less gentle after all the time Magnus had heard those words. “But you can make it better right, Magnus?” That was always the hardest. He couldn’t. He couldn’t make it better. The Angel knows he had tried. But there was a limit to what he could do in healing magic. Even Catarina, who was adept at healing had not figured out way to cure this demented illness. It was akin to a curse in its cruelty. And no man or warlock alive could make it better.

“Magnus?” The man pleaded, his eyes big and luminous on his face. “Please you have to!”

Magnus sat down on his bed, helpless, sad and bitter. It wasn’t fair. He had helplessly watched innocent men and women die and he had to watch yet another friend succumb to that terrible, wasting disease.

“Freddie, I’m sorry...” He spoke softly, as one would do when they take away a man’s last hope at life. “I cannot cure you. It is beyond my abilities.”

He watched as Hope drained out of Freddie’s face, leaving a trail of anger, desperation and frustration that finally turned into defeated acceptance. It was hard for Magnus to watch. Here was a man once so full of life he had brought stadiums full of people to their feet dancing with nothing but his voice. This was a man who had danced the night away with Magnus in countless parties, a man he had shared stories, sorrows and drunken kisses with. He was Freddie. And he was dying. But there was nothing Magnus could do.

So he did the only thing he could do; something so small and trivial in the face of what he wished he could do. He got up and walked over to the hunching man and engulfed him in a hug. As if on cue Freddie broke down in deep sobs that shook his frame and left him wheezing.

They stood there, the man and the warlock, in each other’s arms, buried deep in thoughts about how the other deserved so much better than what life gave them. And they stayed like that, in an embrace they both dreaded might be their last, for a long long time.

.

@shinyun--jung oh wait, did I forget to mention the Freddie fic was angst?

[be-dazzled]

She’s In Your Court 2 That Guy from the Billboard

Gray Fullbuster, Juvia Lockser FFnet: click here Author: xxbedazzledxx Genre: Multi-chapter, Romance Rating: M for sensitive language

Summary: Gray Fullbuster is a player both in love and in life. He plays Professional Basketball and is being groomed to be in line with Basketball Legends Michael Jordan, Lebron James, Kobe Bryant and Stephen Curry. 

There’s just one problem, Gray Fullbuster is a play-ah. His life is a giant mess of crazy parties, waking up with random women and waking up in random women’s apartments. Just living the life. The opinion of the public on him is waning. To save the million-dollar endorsements in the verge of disappearing, Gray needs to change his image. Therefore, Gray Fullbuster, Fiore Knight’s Team Captain and Most Valuable Player, will be in the next season of “My Star Can Dance”. 

There’s another problem: it seems like his star isn’t that bright since his partner, one of Fiore’s prominent ballerinas, doesn’t know him? His billboard is hanging in front of her dancing school! And it was a good billboard since all he was wearing was his six-pack and an Aztec bandana. How come she didn’t notice?

...

Head down, Swaying to my own sound Flashes in my face now All I know is everybody loves me - Everybody Loves Me, One Republic

...

Even the sun had to bow down to the man jumping into his sleek black convertible, too cool to even use the door. His aura was simply glowing. How could it not when he had his third MVP trophy sitting in his glass cabinet? Plus the fact that Magnolia deemed him a hero.

 Gray Fullbuster, three times MVP and Team Captain of Magnolia’s up and coming basketball team, adjusted his rearview mirror to take a good look at himself.

 “You just look so fine this morning, Fullbuster.”

 He shot an approving look at his reflection, shook his head in disbelief as his grin reached both ears. How was it possible for such a gorgeous man to even exist?

 Gray started his engine and left the convertible’s roof open. Simply because he has seen cool guys do it on television. Besides, the day was too beautiful to be hiding from the sun.

 Gray put on his sunglasses, channeling a superstar vibe. Eye protection was secondary reason. Hoopster scrambled in his seat looking for his iPhone. When he connected the same to his car through Bluetooth, he immediately scanned iTunes for his driving playlist. A good way to start the day.

 “Let’s put on my favorite girl.”

 Gray pulled out of his garage as the song began, cautiously as to not scratch the car. He just had it last month and it would be a waste driving it recklessly. But as soon as he was on the main road, the Fiore Knight’s Team Captain did not hesitate stepping on the gas. Disheveled raven hair danced in the morning breeze. There weren’t many cars in the highway so he increased his speed as the song reached its bridge. What’s the point of driving a billion dollar sports car if you couldn’t road-runner it? So Gray pedaled it to 80.

 “Now payback is a bad b*tch and baby, I'm the baddest. You f*ckin' with a savage. Can't have this, can't have this.”

 Gray rapped along, spitting the words with conviction, throwing his free hand around like Snoop Dogg. Swag coursed through his bloodstream. He felt so ghetto he did not even censor the words.

 “I'm not sorry!”

Gray popped his head up and down to the beat and sang second to Demi Lovato, singing in piercing falsetto. He was just repeating the lyric ‘I’m not sorry’.

 The drive was long but Gray did not mind it. He did not even notice he was driving for more than an hour now; in a speed that was already reckless. The road-trip playlist he created was not even halfway through it. When Gray passed by the welcome sign, he slowed down. The convertible purred through the busy street of Magnolia.

 The bumper-to-bumper traffic gave Gray some time to consult Siri for the exact location of some woman’s dance school. Mika Mine texted him the address the night before. The show’s crew would meet him there, she said. When he asked for the exact location she replied to just look around for it and reminded him not to be late or else. Gray did not want to know what came after ‘or else…’. It was never pretty.

 Gray thanked Siri when the machine displayed a map on his iPhone screen and spat out detailed directions. He would have kissed the machine out of gratitude. If only she was a real person. In fact, Gray remembered hooking up with some woman claiming to be Siri. He was wasted at that time and found it amusing. The sex was good and the sexy voice that really sounded like the virtual assistant did some wonders. But the sun came and reason returned to Gray. After that night, he turned off the Siri feature for a month. It started to become weird, bordering creepy.

 Siri led him to a block of identical red-bricked buildings. One peculiar lot stood out.

 “You’ve reached your destination.” prompted the virtual assistant.

 “Thanks, Siri.”

 The Lamborghini crawled over the parking lot, looking for an open spot. When Gray finally did find one, he pulled up and climbed down the convertible. He fixed his raven hair under a Fiore Knights bull-cap. He did not want to get tackled by fans so he put on a disguise. Satisfied with his look, Gray started for the building.

 “Let’s make some hearts swoon today.”

 He was going to charm everyone out their wits, he just knew. Gray pranced and strutted, treating the sun as his own spotlight. It wasn’t long until he found the entrance. A sign that said ‘Lockser School of Dance’ hang above. He took out his phone from his back pocket and reread the address his mother sent him.

 “Well, this is probably it.”

 Since his mother wasn’t going to tell him an exact address, Gray settled on approaching an old man wearing blue and white uniform, stationed at the door. It would be a hassle if he went inside the wrong building. It happened to him once, maybe twice. All he could remember was how it took him forever to get out of there. Worse, if he was late because he kept looking everywhere for that place. Not a good impression to leave.

 Gray pinched the bridge of his nose. His mother must be punishing him because of that incident in his apartment. He shook his head and calmed himself down.

 “Hi. Is this the–”

 A shrill scream cut Gray off. Maybe broke his ear-drums too.

 “You’re Gray Fullbuster! You’re Gray Fullbuster! You’re from Fiore Knights!”

 The old man kept repeating as if Gray did not hear it the first time. But the excitement written all over his wrinkled face was all too familiar with Gray. This old man was certainly a fan.

 “Can I have your autograph? I am your biggest fan!”

See?

 The old man felt for a pen in his uniform pockets and, not finding one, ended up handing Gray black permanent marker. Gray waited for Rob to give him a paper, photo, or anything to write on.

 “Where should I sign?”

 Old Rob thought deep before his eyes grew wide when an idea hit him.

 “Uh-huh. I got it! Wait!” he unbuttoned his top uniform and opened it wide enough to show his bare chest.

 “Here! Because you are always here in my heart.” Old Rob broke into a wide grin as he tapped two fingers on his left chest.

 Whether the idea was a good or a bad one? That was debatable. Autograph on the chest was not a peculiar request for Gray. He was used to women asking him to sign their chests, and all other parts of their bodies, all the time. Just another day at the office. But that request coming from old Rob? Gray narrowed his repulsed eyes.

 This fan of his was eager, waiting for his autograph. Now was a good time for a distraction. Anyone?

 “Uncle Rob, what happened? We heard a scream.”

 Thank goodness!

 “Is everything all right?"

 The twin doors flung open and spitted out a woman, probably in her forties. An air of grace followed her.

 “I'm sorry Ma’am! It’s just… we don’t really receive a lot of celebrities around here.”

 The old man gestured toward Gray who answered with a polite smile. Time to turn on the charms. Gray offered the woman a hand. She took it without hesitation but was taken by surprise when this stranger, whose eyes were still covered with sun glasses, kissed the back of her hand.

 “I didn’t realize chivalry reached your generation.”

 “We’re a dying breed.”

 Gray saw the glint in her eyes. Her blue eyes told that she found him interesting. Behind his sunglasses he watched her inspecting eyes travel up and down, giving him a once-over.

 “You must forgive me. I definitely have seen your face before…” she trailed off, her voice laced with embarrassment. She tilted her head on one side, looking like she was contemplating something.

 Gray did her a favor and took off his undercover cap and shades. The boy even rumpled his raven hair in an attempt to jog her memory. He was, after all, famous for his unkempt, dangerously sexy hair. But it seemed like the woman was taking too long to remember. Gray was starting to feel embarrassed.

 He followed her eyes when she looked somewhere behind him and then shifted her face to the right, raising her head a little to look at something: to a billboard with a smirking Gray, half of his bare body on full display. He was holding a plastic bottle of a recognized energy drink. Gray remembered that pictorial. Good times, he thought.

 The smirk on his face slowly disappeared. The woman still hasn’t remembered! Gray was starting to feel like digging himself a whole to hide in. He masked his embarrassment with a simper.

 “I'm Gray Fullbus– ”

 “–He is the famous basketball player who won three basketball championships for Fiore! Now they are heading for the big leagues. Not easy but this guy here…”

 “Uncle Rob?” The woman interrupted. The old man was turning blue, running out of oxygen. “I know you’re passionate about basketball. Oh!”

 The moment she said the word ‘basketball’ it hit her, her blue eyes shining in recognition.

 “You’re Gray Fullbuster.”

 Thank the heavens she finally recognized him.

 “That’s right, Miss….” Now Gray felt embarrassed hoping the woman would offer her name. “I'm sorry I didn't catch your name.”

 “Oh. Well, that’s because I didn’t offer it. I apologize. I am Mrs. Olivia Lockser and our family manages and owns this studio.”

 Gray thought for a second. Did this mean that this was the woman he was paired up to? He wasn’t complaining or anything. He just expected someone… younger. But who was he to judge? If this woman got the job done, he wasn’t one to complain.

 The woman may have recognized doubt in Gray, so she corrected him immediately.

 “You’re here for my daughter. She is friends with one of the show’s writer.” Olivia felt the need to explain.

 “Oh, you’re not teaching the class?"

 “Oh no, no, no, no.” She chuckled. “My daughter does, not me. My arthritis might strike when I do that.”

 The trio laughed at Mrs. Lockser's attempt of a joke. When the giggles died down, Mrs. Lockser excused herself.

 “Everybody’s already waiting so I won’t keep you any longer. I would love to escort you but I have some prior engagement. My daughter will be the one to accommodate you then."

 “I hope she got your beautiful genes.”

 The flattery made the woman giggle. If she was a little younger she would have engaged in this basketball superstar’s flirting. Gray wouldn’t mind. Older woman propositioning him wasn’t new.

 She contemplated over what he said, apparent when she brushed her chin with a thumb and a finger. A playful thought shone on her eyes. Something that Gray caught on.

 “Why don't you just find it out yourself?”

 With the way she said it, she was definitely onto something. She gave him another once-over, more appreciative this time (checking him out). Gray did not read much into it. Besides, no one was ever immune to the ‘Gray Charms’.

 “I have to go. See you around Mr. Fullbuster and good luck with the game.”

 Gray thanked her and kissed the back of her palm once again. This time, he noted, she was not surprised by the act. Then, he watched and observed as the woman walked herself to the parking lot. With the way she spoke and carried herself, the star player knew she wasn’t just some middle-aged lady. She looked and sounded like one of those women he met in parties who hailed from the country’s wealthiest families – women with pedigree.

 “Good genes do run in this family, Mr. Fullbuster. The young miss is definitely as beautiful as the older miss.”

 Uncle Rob had already held the door open for him. He wasted no time and vanished inside the building in case the old man remembered asking for an autograph on the chest.

 A soft classical tune welcomed Gray. He noticed immediately the elegant flight of stairs, a Victorian era survivor, which led to the second floor. He roamed his eyes around the baronial room which was large enough to hold big and important events. And with the classical design embedded in each corner, it might have been used for that purpose.

 “Second floor, then the door to your left.” Uncle Rob, the mansion-turned-studio day-security, instructed. He apologized for not being able to take them in himself.

 Gray put on his humble bull-cap and thanked the nice, old man.

 “Oh! I didn’t get the autograph.”

 The voice travelled inside but Gray faintly heard as he was already on the last step to the second floor.

 “Well I hope this is worth the freaking drive.”

 The classical tune grew louder but still soft to the ears. He could also now make out a muffled voice. It led him to the double doors with windows that afforded a peek inside. A group of little ballerinas on their tip toes and cute, pink tutus occupied the right side while who he assumed might be the guardians stayed on the left.

 Next to them was another distinct group. All of them wore black shirts and each were holding equipment Gray recognized were used for filming: portable spotlights, reflectors and cameras. One was even pacing the floor back and forth with a rolled paper in her hand.

 “Brace yourselves. Superstar coming in.”

 The large room buzzed when Gray Fullbuster pushed the door open. The women residing the waiting area stood to their feet and rushed to him like hungry piranhas sighting a meat-drop in the tank. True enough; a young, very delicious meat had dropped on them.

 Juvia, who was staring at her reflection at the wide-range mirror, turned to the door after hearing a long and heart-melting ‘Ohs’. She was taken-aback, recognizing the man who just walked in on her class. Then, arched a brow because someone just disrupted her class, much to her chagrin.

 Gray immediately regretted abandoning his undercover get-up. The women from the waiting area pooled around him, seizing every chance they get to touch him. Even if he was familiar with this kind of scene, the Fiore Knight’s star player still felt awkward because most of these women were old enough to be his mother. A picture of Mrs. Mine flashed at the back of his mind and made him cringe inwardly. But being used to attention and with the money the team management spent on public relations, Gray Fullbuster definitely knew how to work this crowd. His million dollar smile that scored him hundreds of advertisement deals and magazine covers never left his face as the women feasted on him.

 Juvia fixed her eyes on the man, ignoring the soft flutters in her stomach. She tried to call the attention of her students but their young eyes, too, were trained to the new guy. So she walked over to the hungry piranhas and broke up the feast.

 “Hi, excuse me. Is there anything I can help you with?” She sounded rather formal and distant.

 Her disinterest confused the basketball star. Usually, he’d get breasts brushing against him. His eyes fell on the pair the bluenette had. Not bad. He wouldn't mind the playful butt-slaps or cop-a-feels his fans would chance up to. He was a generous guy. But he did not appreciate what he was getting from this woman which was nothing at all. She wasn’t only distant but cold as ice.

 “Well, I was told to come here for that show I’m in.”

 Juvia turned to the girl who was pacing the floor nervously earlier. Now, she stood erect, eyes round as saucers.

 “Levy?”

 The girl’s face shifted when Juvia called her out. Red quickly spread on her cheeks when she realized she was starstruck. Levy then quickly moved her short legs and walked toward Juvia and the basketball superstar.

 “Ah… yes. H-h-hello.” Levy greeted shyly, almost tumbling on the floor when she bowed to greet him.

 “You are a little bit early, Sir.” Somehow, Levy could not look at Gray. Which Juvia found odd.

 “I still have to hold a class, so…”

 So what?

 Gray did not budge. He was already there, even earlier than call time. Shouldn’t they start filming already since the superstar was already in the building? The eagle has landed.

 Gray immediately noticed the change in her expression. He finally realized who the woman shared an uncanny resemblance with. But her face was pulled in a frown and she was emitting an ominous aura.  A far cry from the radiance Mrs. Lockser had on.

 “So, you can sit over there while I finish it.”

 Gray felt like he was slapped in the face a thousand times. Was she asking him to wait? Gray Fullbuster, this era’s King of the Hoops was asked to wait? He could not believe the words coming out of her beautiful, beautiful mouth.

 “Mary, please tend to our guest.”

 Gray, feeling insulted to be referred to as just ‘guest’, stopped her by the shoulders. “Wait, do you know who I am?”

 Really, she could have said basketball superstar, sexiest team captain (as polls would have it), or even just god Fullbuster.

 “Yes.”

 His confidence level skyrocketed. No woman in her right mind would not know Gray ‘the god’ Fullbuster.

 “You're the guy from the billboard.”

 Call an ambulance. Someone’s ego just flat-lined.

 Air left his body as if someone threw a punch to his stomach. For a moment he forgot to breath.

 Good heavens forgive this woman for her ignorance.

  “She’s okay.”

 After a few rounds of practice, the gang decided to rest at the bleachers while the trainees take over the court.

 Pearls of sweat trailed down from their foreheads to their necks. The dream-team, composing of this year's national basketball champions, dried themselves with cotton towels and cooled their bodies off with the sponsored energy drink. They interrogated their team captain the moment they heard about the meeting.

 “Not your type?” Laxus Dreyar, Fiore Knight’s Power Forward, asked.

 “It's not that. It's just–“

 “–exactly his type.” Natsu interrupted. “C'mon man, I know you too well.”

 “She doesn't know what she needs to know.” Gray grimaced, reflecting back on how the woman in question called her ‘that guy from that the billboard’.

 “What do you mean?” Curious, Natsu leaned closer to Gray which annoyed the latter. “So, she’s stupid? Aw. Hey! What was that for?”

 “You can’t call a woman stupid, you idiot.” Loke hit the back of Natsu’s head. He felt offended on behalf of every woman. He loved every single woman of them.

 “She’s not stupid.”

 Since practice started, Gray never recovered from his bad mood.

 “Then what?”

 It was hard for Gray to explain. Mostly because he knew these guys would just laugh at his face when he admitted to the truth.

 “Ignorant. She’s ignorant. She called me the guy from that billboard."

 And boy was he right. His team mates did not just laugh at his face. They ‘rolled around, smacked the floor, and broadcasted it to the whole gym’ laughed at his face.

 “Waitwaitwait.” The Point Guard and Gray’s best friend, also the one who got to his nerves the most, struggled to even his breathing. “So you’re telling us you’ve been cranky all morning because she doesn’t know you?”

 Gray waited for the punch line in that joke.

 “He’s mad because he’s not the famous and irresistible Gray Fullbuster he thought he was.”

 Loke wrapped it up with that conclusion, finding it amusing to add insult to the captain's ego injury.

 “If you guys are done laughing give me two hundred push-ups.”

 Gray threw his towel on the bleachers. He still was the Captain and he was not above using his power to punish those bastards.

  “Mr. Fullbuster–”

 “–Gray is fine.” Gray shot the shy girl a friendly smile.

 “Mr. Gray.”

Hoopster grimaced inwardly. He meant to call him Gray, not that infamous guy with that BDSM fetish.

 “Today we’re going to film you and Juvia saying things about each other.”

 Levy informed the superstar on how today’s filming was going to go down. It was some sort of introduction clip they were going to play before they officially introduce the contestants.

 “Oh, is that so.”

 Gray’s ears perked up. Instantly, he became curious of what this woman, this ignorant little thing, has to say about ‘that guy from the billboard’. Gray only realized then. Juvia has seen his billboard. Did that mean she took note of his hard abs? He was only wearing an Aztec bandana in that billboard and his six packs were on full display. Gray brightened with that realization. He started counted the number of women who fell for that photo.

 “We gave you Juv–I mean Ms. Lockser’s profile yesterday.” She peeked to see Gray looking ahead, contemplating something. “We know you’re a busy person so if you want to be filmed first then–”

 “–It’s alright. Lady’s first.”

 “Did you read my profile?”

 The reason of his frustration peeked behind the shy writer. The woman dabbed dry towel on her face. Her blue locks were gathered in a bun. From the looks of it, she just finished washing. Gray’s appreciative eyes wandered down her slender neck, then that sexy place where the neck and her shoulders met, then farther and farther…

 “Hey, I said did you read my profile?”

 Juvia’s face was now frowning. She was probably annoyed that she had to repeat herself.

 “Didn’t have to.” Gray replied.

 He took a step forward which caused the surprised ballerina to take a step back.

 “I would like to know my partner on a more personal level.”

 Juvia recognized that smile – sexy and dangerous.

 “Juvia.”

 The ballerina jumped when Levy called her out, snapping her back to reality.

 “We will film you first and then Mr. Gray.” Levy informed her.

 Juvia glanced back to Gray, the dangerously sexy smile still radiating on his smug face. She narrowed her eyes at him as a warning. His smirk broke into a full grin. Juvia whipped her head around and followed Levy. The writer led her to a make-shift photography studio the crew set up for the occasion.

 Gray watched the bluenette intently. He wanted to hear what she was to say about him, so he walked closer and stood next to the director.

 “Just be casual, Ms. Juvia.” The director instructed in a friendly voice. “Tell us what you think about Mr. Fullbuster.”

 When the director said his name, Juvia’s eyes instinctively wandered over where the man was. They held each other’s gaze for a moment before the director cued the start of filming.

 “Rolling on the set. Lights, camera, action!”

 The set fell silent as everyone was waiting for the ballerina to speak. It took her a while that Gray thought she gone mute or something.

 “He is… eager.”

 Gray’s face fell on the floor. Eager? Was that a good thing to describe him?

 “To learn.” She clarified. “He is a go-getter.”

 Her smile radiated through the screen as Gray watched the live test. Looking at her being confident in front of the camera, Gray could tell this was not the first time for Juvia. She had the face for it, he had to admit.

 After a few words about dance and the plans she had for their performance, Gray was asked to take the sit next.  As usual, his charms were off the charts, talking about himself, basketball and how excited he was for the new experience.

 Juvia observed him through the monitor. She had to give it to him. If she didn’t hear about the crazy things he has done off camera she would have believed the boy-next-door image Gray was projecting in front of the camera.

 But she knew better not to.

 When Gray filmed his last shot, he winked directly at the camera. Juvia’s heart skipped a beat.

 Gray Fullbuster was sexy and dangerous.

  Word was out. Gray Fullbuster was frequenting a certain place in Magnolia.

 Juvia did not know if she was glad about the instant fame her studio was now enjoying. The regulars would usually be mothers who had nothing else better to do or nannies paid to stick around. That day, the bluenette was greeting faces she had never seen in her life.

 The ballet teacher wanted to apologize for the way she acted the day before. Her temper would always get the best of her and interrupting her class with his presence drove her up the wall. Juvia decided it wasn’t really Gray’s fault after collecting herself. So when she took the short trip from her house to the studio, imagine her surprise when she got blocked by a crowd of Fiore Knight fans.

 Gray, ever the crowd-charmer, waved to his fans like the celebrity that he was. Some pushed to take photos with him. Other handed him posters or portraits for his autograph. Gray was more than happy to oblige them. He not only loved the attention, he basked on it. Gray glanced up the studio door where he saw the young bluenette tapping her left foot and repeatedly checking her watch. He loved his fans. But most of all, he loved annoying a certain woman.

 The Fiore Knight star player waved his fans goodbye on the streets and made his way to where Juvia was, taking his sweet time. Which, he noted, added another crease on her forehead.

 “Practice starts at seven, Mr. Fullbuster. Not seven-thirty.”

 “I got held up.” Gesturing to the sea of people still gathered outside the studio.

 It irked Juvia that he wasn’t sorry at all.

 “So…” Gray stepped forward, meeting the impatient woman’s glare. “It knows my name." Because come to think of it, Juvia never called him by his name.

 The woman ignored his comment and walked past him. He might have checked out her ass as she ascended the stairs. He might have also appreciated it.

 Juvia hated delays and the distracted guest currently wandering around her studio seemed to be full of it. Sometimes, he would ask her about the paintings on the walls while she or their dance coach was in the middle of giving out instructions. He would also interrupt her with his loud thinking and apologized for it afterwards. The bluenette had the feeling he wasn't sorry at all.

 And the Hoopster acted like a brat all throughout practice.

 Hoopster giggled with the crew members while Juvia talked to Levy and the dance coach regarding the dance routine. Vijee the dance coach, being a fan of the Hoopster, abandoned the task at hand to join them, causing Juvia another delay. It was the last straw.

 Juvia was growing anxious. The show scheduled a closed-door preshow where the unnamed prospect judges were to give comments and pointers which would help the couples prepare for their performance. Juvia knew well dancing in front of a camera was much easier than in front of a live studio audience. Besides, Levy had tipped Juvia that one of the sitting judges would be her lifelong idol. She bit her nail. Juvia needed to impress her. To do that, she needed to set the Hoopster straight.

 During break, she pulled him aside, out of everyone’s earshot and scolded the guy.

 “Can you take anything seriously?”

 Without warning, Gray leaned in, putting on a serious look, dropping an octave – his voice was husky and teasing.

 “Is this serious enough?”

 Juvia stiffened. She became highly aware of the thinning distance between them. If Gray noticed it too, he didn’t let it show. Instead, he continued his steps, doing what he proved to be good at – invading her personal space. Juvia did not like it. He was close, so close that she could see the small scar peeking beneath his unruly bangs. And his eyes, his dark, piercing eyes were trained at her, boring through her. She watched his gaze fall on her lips then his tongue seductively run over his own.

 Juvia wondered how his lips tasted.

 “What's happening?”

 The bluenette jumped back, surprised. She took a few more steps, eager to put space in between them. Gray first saw the reflection of the interrupter on the wide range mirror mounted on the wall. He easily recognized the personification of classic elegance. The walking testament of the expression ‘like mother, like daughter’ – Olivia Lockser.

 “So, I've seen you met my daughter.”

 Gray was not sure if it was just him or if there was another meaning to Mrs. Lockser’s words. But the glint of mischief in her sharp blue eyes and the way she lifted the corner of her lips made it look and sound like there was. He’d get to the bottom of that later.

 For now, one thing was for sure: with the way Juvia’s eyes lingered on his lips, the woman was interested. Great! Gray could work with that. He could turn interest into attraction real quick.

Authro’s Note: Revised Chapter 2 is up. What do you guys think?

[thorne93]

Lies and Slander

Prompt: Sebastian losing his when when you kick him out after a big fight, and threatinging to never come back ( @theartofimagining13 ) & An outrageous scandal starts when after being provoked by a reporter, Sebastian finally snaps and starts spilling the tea on everything that led to your breakup and how you ended up leaving him for Tom. When tom hears this, he’s so incredibly mad you have to stop him from going after Sebastian. (from @theartofimagining13

Word Count: 1576

Warnings: Fighting, language, mentions of cheating, mental abuse...

Notes: I put two prompts in one. I MAY do a second part, not sure. Y’all lemme know. Beta’d by my wonderful partner in crime @like-a-bag-of-potatoes

Tags: @topthis808 @amarvelouswritings @cocosierra94 @tacohead13

~~~~~~~~~

“Kneel, woman!” was read on your phone as you giggled. You were working with Tom on the new Thor movie and he was sending you a few jokes.

“What’s so funny?” Sebastian, your boyfriend of eight months asked innocently as he sat on the other end of the couch, channel flipping. He had semi-moved in after six-months and quickly it was a disaster. Every time you were texting or calling, he demanded to know who it was with. If you went out with friends he wanted proof you weren’t the only girl. He never trusted you and was becoming too controlling and you were fighting about it a lot.

“Oh, just Tom. We’re having a conversation in character sort of,” you explained, the light still in your face.

“Yeah? Let me see,” he said, his tone turning serious as he reached for your phone. You pulled it away.

“No, it’s my phone. My private conversation with Tom.”

“Excuse me? What’s yours is mine,” he said.

“Uh, no. That’s not how this works, Sebastian,” you countered, astounded at his audacity .

A dark look crossed Sebastian’s face. “Give me your damned phone, Y/N. What are you really laughing about?”

“That’s it?” you said as if it was stupid to be lying about that. The inflection in your voice made it sound like a question, because it was. In your mind, you were wondering what else you could be laughing about.

“It can’t be that funny. And if it is, you need to share with the class.” He lunged at your hands and you pulled away.

“Sebastian, stop it!” you ordered as you jumped up from the couch, your hands clenching into fists. “This is stupid! I can’t even text my friend without getting the third degree from you.”

“Because you’re not being honest with me! If you had nothing to hide, you’d show me your phone.”

“That’s not how this works! You should trust me! This isn’t a prison. I shouldn’t have to turn my phone into you for you to deem what I’m saying as okay.”

You were shaking your head and trembling from anger as your face turned red.

“And you shouldn’t be flirting with every fucking dude you work with!” he shouted.

You looked at him as if he lost his mind. “I don’t! We’re just friends. I don’t accuse you of sleeping with all of your coworkers!”

“Because I can be trusted!”

“Oh and I can’t?!” you screamed. At this point, both of your blood pressures were way too high, with red faces, bulging neck veins, and hostile body language.

“No, obviously fucking not!”

“Fuck you, Stan!” you said as you started to stalk into the kitchen.

“Where are you going?” he demanded.

“The kitchen. Is that okay, sir?” you spat.

“No. No it’s not okay, Y/N. You need to calm the hell down.”

“Me?” you gasped as you rounded around the couch toward the kitchen. “You’re the controlling asshole.”

“I only do that so I can trust you. Y/N since we’ve been dating you’ve had your nose in your phone. You’re constantly texting other guys. Hell on date night you can’t leave your phone alone.”

“That’s not true,” you argued, crossing your arms. “I text my family and my girl friends more than I text Tom or Chris.”

“You shouldn’t be texting them at all,” he countered.

“What the hell? I’m not six. I can have guy friends, you fucking idiot.”

“Oh, so now I'm an idiot because I don’t want you fucking every other dude?”

“Yeah! Because I’m not some slut! Jesus, Sebastian, if you think that lowly of me, you should just leave.”

“You can’t be serious,” he argued.

“Oh, I’m very serious. I’m sick of this shit. I can’t even laugh without this turning into a god damn fight. I can’t do this any more. You need to just...get out. Just leave.”

“Really? You’re picking him over me?” he asked, his jaw setting, his eyes on yours, a darkness in them.

“I’m not picking anyone. I’m asking you to leave.”

“Fine. But if you force me to walk out that door, I might never come back,” he said in a threatening tone as he grabbed his faded jean jacket off the hook.

“Good! Leave!”

He nodded a curt nod, his lower lip prisoner by his upper teeth, and slammed the door, making you jump.

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

Four months had passed since the night of that breakup. You didn’t think you wanted to break up, but you knew Sebastian would never stop being jealous and turning controlling so it was for the best.

You’d spoken to him maybe twice after that. Once for when he came to pick up the small amount of his things at your place. Another time when you awkwardly said hi to each other at a Marvel event.

You had immediately called Tom that night, telling him what transpired. He was understanding, kind, gentle. He was your rock for about two months. He took you on a bunch of little “friend dates” around town to take your mind off the relationship that had just ended. But in all honesty, it wasn’t hard getting over Sebastian. He was becoming an ass and you had had that sort of shit before and you weren’t about to mope about missing it.

It wouldn’t take a psychic to see that there was something special between you and Tom. Pretty soon, from working together all the time, him being your best friend, and taking you on the little dates, it quickly turned to real dates. He was there to pick up what little pieces you had from the shitty fall out with Seb. So now, here you were, two months strong in an official relationship, but you’d been closer for much longer.

You and Tom were at Comic-Con, signing autographs together when a fan came up and asked if you had heard what Seb had said about you.

“Uh..no?” you answered, glancing to Tom.

“Oh, you may want to check out his Twitter,” they said before they were told to start wrapping it up.

“Thanks,” you said absentmindedly. After only five more fans, the line for autographs was closed for a few minutes. You grabbed your phone and opened his Twitter and saw a video he was tagged in. He was at Comic-Con too. Glory of all being Marvel actors. He had just had a panel in another room.

The video started with a reporter in the crowd asking him what had happened between you two. He brushed it off and said, “Eh, failed relationship.” But they said, “We heard she was cheating on you with Tom Hiddleston, is that true?”

He ran his tongue inside his cheek, an obviously annoyed tick he had.  

“Next question.”

“So what did happen?”

“Okay! Fine! Fine. You wanna know what happened?” he asked, adjusting as he got more agitated. “She threw me out. Alright? She threw my ass out. We had some issues, some trust issues on both ends and she threw me out. We had just moved in together and I guess she couldn’t handle the commitment.”

Everyone was quiet for a moment. Even you. Technically that was true. But you didn’t have a problem with commitment. But there were trust issues.

“Here’s another...fun fact,” he continued with dripping sarcasm. “She did leave me for Tom. I don’t know how long they were dating while we were. All I know is she couldn’t stop talking to the dude long enough to even notice I was there.”

“That bastard,” Tom growled in a low tone as he watched with you. “We never did anything while you two were together.”

“I know,” you said gently as you looked at him.

“He must be very...pleasing, for her to leave me though, if you catch my drift. She just couldn’t stop texting or talking to everyone but me, every other dude in her life was more important than me. So yeah, I got pissed. Who wouldn’t be? I mean, we were dating and she couldn’t even give me the time of day. So, I hope you’re happy with her Tom, if she hasn’t already moved on.”

The video ended.

“That lying bastard,” Tom repeated.

“Tom,” you started, your hand on his arm. “Don’t. He’s just acting out. He’s an ass.” This would completely wreck your reputation as your rep was already on the rocks and Sebastian’s was pretty much spotless.

“I’m gonna give him a piece of my mind,” he said a he stood up and adjusted his dark green shirt.

“Tom, no. He’s not worth it,” you tried, jumping up, dreading the thought of them fighting.

“He’s in the other room, spouting lies about you!” he said, his blue eyes intense on yours.

“So? I know the truth, you know the truth. That’s all we need to know. Right?”

He sighed as he stared into your eyes.

“Yes. I suppose you’re right….”

“Thank you.”

You quickly kissed him before fans started to line up for the next bout of autographs. You were a little mad at Sebastian too, but you knew why he was being this way. He was heartbroken, and while you knew it was immature, you also knew he’d been cheated on before. You couldn’t blame him for his behavior now or in the past. You decided to go talk to him after the autographs and smooth things over yourself.

[prideguynews]

by Michael Musto 2h ago

With a new documentary upon us about the legendary 1970s disco Studio 54, it’s time to remove the cobwebs from the corners of my mind and relay some misty, water-colored memories about the whole dizzying experience.   First of all, the place was everything it was cracked up to be. At a time when the country was disillusioned with our shady government and New York City was in shambles, it rose up like a miracle, a glitzy hedonism haven for escapism and glamour, filled with people of all races and sexualities. Here are some things you might not know about the TV studio turned dance palace, which attracted a conga line of glitterati starting in 1977:

*It consisted of three levels (plus a bathroom landing slash lounge). The main dance floor was a thrilling wonderland, with blinking panels descending and rising, and a quarter moon with a faux coke spoon coming down at key moments. Downstairs was where the celebrities did real coke. A lot. And the balcony was where…well, let’s just say I once sat there to relax for a minute, only to have some man reach from the row behind me to grab for my business. Why, I never!

*To get in, you had to be famous, beautiful, a media person, or know someone. I was press, so frisky co-owner Steve Rubell would always pull me in, but when he didn’t happen to be at the door, the regular door guy, Marc Benecke, would shoot me withering looks and refuse me entry, correctly sensing that I was not Bianca Jagger. The longer you stood there hoping for admission, the smaller your chances got, so I had to cook up some better schemes. I became pals with an Oscar nominated actress, and she always got us in free, but then came the problem of how to ditch her inside the club and have some fun with my gay male friends! Ah, the problems of the ‘70s.

Zeitgeist Films

*Gays were not only welcomed, they were worshiped. This was after Stonewall and before AIDS, so it was a time of liberation, pride, and tons of fun, when nocturnal NYC gays romped freely and straights wanted to be near them at any cost.

*The array of celebs was extraordinary, and right up in your face. Liza Minnelli, Diana Ross, Michael Jackson, Andy Warhol, Halston…everyone. And there wasn’t the kind of security celebs have now, so they were mixing with the rest of the crowd and even photographers were roaming free, with grins on their faces. One night, Rubell snuggled up to me and cooed, “Elton John and Rod Stewart are coming together later. Don’t tell anyone.” I told everyone—and that’s what he wanted! And sure enough, Elton and Rod came in and electrified the place. Another night, I was dancing with a friend, but noticed that your dancing partner could change as the crowd swirled round, and no one minded, since everyone was equal under the great glitter ball. (We’d all gotten in, after all.) So I found myself eventually dancing with world-famous model-actor-scion Margaux Hemingway, who didn’t mind! I was verklempt.

*The place also created its own celebrities, like Rollerena, a drag queen on roller skates, with a magic wand in tow, and Disco Sally, a 70-something retired lawyer and widow who loved to boogie, especially with younger guys (one of whom she married in a much publicized ceremony).

*The music pumped all night, with great songs that were heavy on the black female vocals, plus wonderful orchestrations. The yin and yang of disco hits were Gloria Gaynor’s “I Will Survive” (a thump-thump anthem celebrating a defiant refusal to care about the schmo that got away) and Thelma Houston’s “Don’t Leave Me This Way” (the flip side of that, about desperately trying to hold onto your man at any cost). Both were incredibly fun to act out on the dance floor, with lots of arm gestures and facial expressions (some of which people could even see through the strobe effects). Speaking of “leaving this way,” when you heard disco queen Donna Summer’s “The Last Dance” emerge from the DJ booth, you knew it was—duh—the last dance of the night, and you had to pull yourself together and try to sneak into a cab (or, in my case, subway) home. Depressing! But there was always tomorrow night.

Zeitgeist Films

*I once went to Halloween at Studio 54 and it was kind of bad! The crowd always dressed so remarkably that being forced to do so on this night of rituals simply didn’t inspire them, and the dance floor was mostly filled with bridge and tunnel types in lame ensembles. Every night was Halloween for the core 54 crowd.

*The party ended when Rubell and partner Ian Schrager went to jail for tax evasion, and in 1980, the new owner, Mark Fleischman, took over. We all tried to pretend that nothing had changed, but eventually we had to face the fact that the magic was gone. In 1998, the main space became a Broadway theater and then the basement was repurposed as the cabaret room Feinstein’s/54 Below. I’ve occasionally spotted customers there trying to sniff the floor.

    Googoo for Gaga

Moving on to a retread of Liza’s mother’s greatest triumph: Lady Gaga can act! She and Bradley Cooper (who directed and costars) have cooked up a fab A Star Is Born, full of great offhand moments, wonderful singing and acting, and fancy drag queens. (In an early scene, Cooper autographs Willam Belli’s fake tits, and you’ll never forget it.)

What I liked about this version of the oft-told tale is that Jackson Maine, Cooper’s superstar singer character, isn’t really jealous of his wife’s rising success, but of the fact that she’s sold out and gone cheesy. I also appreciated the realistic way Ally (Gaga’s character) approaches Jackson’s alcohol problem, first with dismay and tough love (threatening him to shape up) and then with a more compassionate take, realizing that he’s suffering from a disease and it needs to be treated. Early on, there are some jokes about Ally’s nose getting in the way of her success, and it makes sense that at that point she wouldn’t go for surgery, wanting to just be herself (until she becomes a sort of glorified Britney Spears).

Just two complaints: They should have gone for broke and had her say “I’m Mrs. Ally Maine” in the big finale scene (shades of the Judy Garland version). Putting in the “Mrs.” would have resonated in light of a previous scene where she irritably calls Jackson her boyfriend. Secondly, Cooper should have directed Gaga to cry harder during a certain pivotal dramatic moment; it would have clinched her an Oscar. Otherwise, this Star is both raw and dazzling—and though Gaga sings the intro to Judy’s “Over The Rainbow,” it’s closer to the Barbra Streisand version, but way better.

In Other Movie News…

Leave No Trace is Debra Granik’s thoughtful film about a troubled veteran (Ben Foster) and his daughter (Thomasin McKenzie) trying to find solace in a Portland nature reserve. After a special screening, Cooper urged the crowd to take a walk and touch a tree to restore communication with nature. (When he said this, I quickly turned off my phone! I won’t be owned by technology anymore.)

At a luncheon afterwards, Foster told me he’s tempted to undo certain news apps on his phone because the news is so disheartening these days. I agreed, saying I can’t bear reading Trump’s horrifying tweets, though I feel I need to stay in touch with what’s happening just to be plugged in. In another life-changing development, Foster told me that he’s moving to Brooklyn with his wife (Laura Prepon) and their kid because the East Village has changed and there’s a Target there now, for starters. I told him I’m from Brooklyn and didn’t really want to go back there that much, alas. I also confessed that The Village Voice and Theater Talk had both recently folded, but I was handling it okay, knowing that life brings more than one bad thing—or good thing—at a time. “I wish you ease,” he replied, sincerely. Nice!   At a screening of The Great Buster, Peter Bogdanovich’s doc about the slapstick comedy legend, Bogdanovich extolled the glories of black and white silent films. He said Hitchcock told him that movies had become just people talking, while Orson Welles advised him that “black and white is an actor’s best friend.” Still, Bogdanovich decided to have people talk in his doc, including Spider-Man: Homecoming director Jon Watts, who says that since Spidey has an expressionless (i.e., covered) face, Watts researched how to do blank-faced comedy by looking at Keaton’s work!

  Eliciting a bevy of emotions, Tamara Jenkins’ Private Life is a seriocomic look at a married couple’s repeated attempts to have a baby, from in vitro to adoption and beyond. After the movie, Paul Giamatti was asked how he researched playing a guy with one testicle. He joked that in real life, he has three of them, so he had to scale it down, then he added, “I feel like a lot of the characters I play have one testicle.” That’s one more than our President. I wish him unease.

Michael Musto is the long running, award-winning entertainment journalist and TV commentator.

@mikeymusto

The post Looking Back at the Notorious Disco Studio 54: Sex, Drugs, and Thump Thump appeared first on PrideGuy - Gay News, LGBT News, Politics & Entertainment.

[odium-amare]

Bian Gi (chapter 2)

Korean airports are a huge contrast to Vietnamese airports. While Vietnamese airports were small and narrow, Korean airports were large, pristine and futuristic. The Vietnamese staff had basic looking uniforms, but the women wore elegant Ao Dai. The Korean staff were generally taller with, in my honest opinion, more professional uniforms. The women were beautiful in their sky blue outfits.

I walked through the bustling crowd of people. I saw families happily greeting each other while lovers and spouses got emotional after having not seen their partners for a long time. There were a lot of posters with different names written boldly to attract the other passengers who got off. One white sign caught my attention when I saw my name written in plain but audacious black ink. The woman looked exactly like the picture in her email profile. She was young, but perhaps younger than me by a few years, medium height, pretty, and her hair was stylishly cut into a short bob that was bleached blonde. This was the Japanese woman who agreed to be my roommate deeming me in her words, ‘trustworthy enough’ to share the rent with her.

I jogged over to her.

“Bian Nguyen?” She questioned bluntly.

“Are you Nora Asami?” I inquired brightly. She gave a little nod while giving my person a once over, her lips pursed.

“You only brought that one bag? Do you have your suitcase ready?”

“Oh, right!”

How could I forget something so important? At Asami’s incredulous stare, I could tell she was already reconsidering my reliability. Embarrassed, I immediately went over to the luggage pickup area. I anxiously looked for my blue and black case as different baggage rolled by and people picked up to go on their merry way. When an hour passed, I was suspicious and nervous.

“Should it really take this long? Are you sure you checked in your luggage at all at your home airport?” Asami came over to note, agitatedly.

“I am absolutely sure I did. Maybe it’s just taking a little longer than usual,” I insisted and kept my eyes stubbornly on the entire machine. I looked around to spot a Korean officer keeping an eye on the whole area. Approaching him, I spoke about my worries and complaints, but he shook his head.

“I wouldn’t worry about it, miss. Sometimes, it just takes this long,” He brushed off. I settled back reluctantly.

When the second hour went by, Asami impatiently jotted down the apartment addressed, gave it to me briskly and left, not wanting to wait for me any longer. That’s when I really panicked. I have just arrived and my unfriendly roommate already ditched me. And where in the world was my suitcase? The officer whom had noticed my fidgeting this whole time began to look at me with slight pity.

“Miss, wait for me a bit. I will check on your luggage number,” I gave him a great look as he left.

My shoulders lightened when at the corner of my eye, I saw a familiar black and blue luggage rolling in my direction.

“O-Oh! Officer! I found it!” I called back and quickly rushed to snatch the baggage safely in my arms. I frowned and smelled velvety material. Strange. It did not smell like the body spray I dabbed it with. Maybe it was the effect of being stored in the plane for so long?

Unbeknownst to me, in the corner, a man was staring inquisitively at the luggage in my arms and then back to the one he was holding which had an uncanny resemblance.

“Did you find it?” The officer ran back to where I was panting with his hands resting on his knees, his back bent forward.

“Yes-“

“Excuse me,” A deep male voice interrupted us.

We both turned around to see a tall man approaching us. He cut quite the impression with his leather jacket, black cap covering dark locks paired up with black sunglasses.

“Um…Yes?”

He handed the case in his hand showing me the tag attached to the handle.

“Is this your name and number?” The stranger asked. I peered curiously down at the tag and my eyes widened.

“Yes! What were you doing with it?” I demanded in sloppy Korean, looking up at the man suspicious before I decided to check the tag of the one I was holding. Before I could get a clear look, his large hand reached out to take the luggage from my hand while pushing the one he had towards me.

“Just giving you back the pack you carelessly almost forgot about. Next time, a thief would not be so kind,” He cocked his eyebrow giving me a brief glance. I bristled but muttered a thank you.

He turned to the officer.

“As for you. It is your job as an officer and a member of the South Korean workforce to uphold the utmost responsibility and care for your clients and fellow people. Are you sleeping on the job?” He berated in such an imposing manner, no one had the heart or nerves to talk back or interrupt. “I will not bring this issue to your manager. However, I and everyone else do expect proper performance from you next time.”

With that, he turned on his heel and rolling his baggage with him heading in a different direction.

The officer and I could only stare at his proud, retreating back.

“Wow…” I breathed. “It’s pretty…Intense here huh?”

There was no reply and I turned to look at the officer who had a pensive look on his face before his head shot up in shock, startling me with him.

“What?”

“That man just now, if it weren’t for his cap and sunglasses, doesn’t he look familiar to you?” The officer pondered before his eyes looked like it was about to boggle out of its sockets. He then fumbled to take out his smartphone with case that had colorful writings all over it.

“What are you talking about? What are you doing?” I questioned, definitely bewildered now.

“This phone case has been my autograph collector for many years now,” He answered with a giddy grin before running after the man. I stared, flabbergasted. What? Was it someone famous? I should know him if he was! But then again, it wasn’t like I had a very close look.

With a shake of my head, I checked myself out and then stepped outside to call for an Uber, struggling with the new Korean app.

  Inside the car, I looked around me. It was so different from Saigon. The air was bright, clean and people walked here and there on the sidewalks, getting ready about their day for work and exercise. The weather was chilly, but pleasantly crisp. I made sure to tuck myself in a warm coat and scarf.

The car stopped once it has arrived at my apartment. With the door password I obtained from Asami, I unlocked the door to room 471. Inside was smaller than I thought but that was to be expected as it was all I could afford for now. Asami who was reading a Vogue magazine on the couch looked up at me.

“Ah, looks you were able to get here in one piece after all,” She mused with a quirk of her glossy lips. She stood up and pointed to the duck tape that lined, separating what looked like to be her glamorous side of the room to my blatant plain and unfurnished side.

She smiled apathetically at me as she pointed to a list on the wall that was titled “RULES.”

“You stay in your lane. Don’t talk to me other than is necessary, don’t touch any of my things, do your share of chores, cook every other day, pay your part of the rent and we will get along perfectly.”

 I swallowed.

It was a day for first impressions on me indeed.