#and-- like i said-- they always turn it into a duet when they take his class lol | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

a-reader-and-a-writer · 26 days ago

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Happy Together

AI-Less Whumptober 2024: Day 16. Hostile Environment Fandom: Twisters, Tyler Owens, f!reader Summary: From the moment Tyler met you in your karaoke bar, he was smitten. However, he's terrified to tell you how he feels even as you start a friends-with-benefits situation. Will he find the courage before it's too late? Word Count: 4906 TW: Hurt/Comfort, Angst, Whump, Storm Damage, Storm Injuries, Undefined Relationship, Friends with Benefits, Implied Smut, Communication Issues, Love Confession, Character Death, Language, Tyler's POV Notes: Part of @ailesswhumptober's whumptober event.

Whumptober 2024 Masterlist

“Come on, Ty!” Lily whined, pulling at his arm. “We’ve been coming here for months and you’re the only one who hasn’t sung yet.”

“Yeah, T!” Boone nodded his agreement. “If they made me sing that song from Frozen, you can at least sing some George Strait.”

Dani rolled her eyes. “First of all, Boone, no one made you sing that song. You picked it yourself. And if I remember correctly, you barely needed to look at the lyrics.” Turning to Tyler, she added, “But they’re right! Tonight, you are getting on that stage!”

Tyler shook his head as he rested the mouth of his beer against his bottom lip. “Not gonna happen. When I first agreed to come here, I told y'all that it was only on the condition that I don’t have to sing. Ever.”

His friends looked like they were going to continue arguing, but then Boone perked up in his seat. Calling out to someone behind Tyler, Boone said, “Hey, MC!”

Tyler froze, nearly choking on his beer, as he heard someone approaching the table. The person stopped just behind his chair and he caught a faint whiff of cinnamon and vanilla. It was a smell he had come to both crave and loathe these past few months.

He’d been flirting with you since the first night the Wranglers stumbled into your karaoke bar, but so far he’d only ever struck out. You always seemed super receptive to it, often returning his advances and even upping the game. Yet, every time he was just about to move in for a kiss, you would turn and sashay away.

You stopped just behind Tyler’s chair and your melodic voice—always containing a smile—rang out, “Howdy, Wranglers. How can I help you guys tonight? Anyone wanna sign up for a song?”

“Tyler!” Dani, Dexter, Lily, and Boone all said at the same time.

You chuckled and nudged the back of his head. “Well, Mr. Owens, it sounds like your crew has spoken. What do you say?”

Leaning back in his seat so he caught a glimpse of you out of the corner of his eye, Tyler answered, “I say the same thing I say every time: I don’t sing.”

Your eyes narrowed and he instantly knew he was in trouble. Quickly scribbling something on the notepad resting on the tray in your hands, you ripped it off and slammed it down on the table. “Well, sorry to have to tell you, but we have a new rule around here.”

Everyone leaned in to read the paper. It had Everyone sings by their 5th visit. Refuse and you’re banned for life scrawled across it. Tyler’s stomach sank as everyone else snickered at the dread on his face.

Giving him a dazzling smile, you said, “If I counted correctly, you’re well overdue for a song. So you either get up on that stage tonight, or you don’t come back. What’ll it be?”

The thrill-seeking part of him wanted to call your bluff and refuse to sing just to see what would happen. However, he had gotten to know you well enough these last few months to know that there was a very good chance it wasn’t a bluff and you would indeed ban him. And this had become one of his crew’s favorite places to stop while on the road so he couldn’t jeopardize their fun just because he was being stubborn.

So, reluctantly, he sighed. “Fine. One song.”

The Wranglers all cheered, and you patted his shoulder. “Atta boy. And, hey, since I’m feeling generous, why don’t we make it a duet? Me and you, and you and me. I’ll make sure to take care of you up there.” You winked at him, and most of the annoyance that had been building in Tyler’s chest towards you melted away. He just couldn’t stay mad at you however hard he tried.

Giving his shoulder a quick squeeze, you looked over at another table. “I gotta go, but I’ll meet you backstage a few minutes before the start of the show.”

You turned to leave, but Tyler grabbed your wrist. “Wait. What do you mean ‘the start of the show’?”

Your smile took on a slightly more mischievous edge. “Don’t you know, cowboy? I always sing first.”

And just like that, his annoyance returned.

Half an hour later, Tyler found himself behind the curtain that was currently closed across the stage. He kept wiping his hands on his jeans as he peeked through the crack in the middle where the two sides of the curtain met. It was a full house tonight which meant he was about to make an absolute fool out of himself in front of more than a hundred people. He couldn’t do this.

But as he turned to flee, he crashed into you as you skipped up onto the stage. He grabbed your arms to steady you but you just laughed. “Where you running off to, partner? It’s showtime!”

Tyler shook his head. “I can’t do this, MC. I’m sorry. I really did try but singing…it’s just not my thing. Not even in the shower when I’m alone, let alone in front of all these people.”

“Didn’t you used to be in the rodeo or something for a long time?” you asked, your brow furrowed causing your nose to scrunch up adorably. “And you have a world-famous YouTube channel where you drive into deadly natural disasters! Now you’re telling me you can’t stand in front of these people for three minutes and sing a little song? Come on, Ty. You’ve heard some of the people that get up on this stage after three or four too many drinks. However bad you think you are, they’re worse.”

Tyler looked back at the curtain, his jaw clenched. Placing a soothing hand on his arm, you cooed, “Hey, it’s okay. I picked us out the perfect song for beginners. Everyone knows it. And you don’t even really have to sing. Just say the words, use the monitor if you need it, and, when it gets to the chorus, yell it at the top of your lungs. Trust me, they’ll eat it up.” The spotlights turned on, illuminating the center of the curtain. You gently shooed Tyler off the stage and whispered with a smile, “You’re gonna do great!”

The curtains opened and you strutted out to the middle of the stage. “Hello everybody! Thank you for being here! And welcome to another night of music and drinks at The Crooning Cowboy! I’m your lovely Mistress of Ceremonies, but y'all can call me MC.” You gave an exaggerated wink to the crowd who went wild. It was the same intro you gave every night to a room of mostly the same regulars, and yet, it brought the house down every time. There was just something about your confidence, your spark, your attitude, that made it impossible for people to not fall under your spell.

And Tyler had fallen. Hard.

He watched you play it up for the crowd, telling a few naughty jokes and poking fun at a few familiar faces. And soon, he was so engaged in your act, that he forgot to be nervous.

That was until you held out your hand and gestured for him to join you. Suddenly, all the nerves and fear came surging back. But Tyler stepped out from behind the curtain and grasped onto your hand. He knew his was sweaty and warm but you didn’t seem to mind. You just handed him a microphone and pointed at the monitor.

Then, the two of you began your duet.

As promised, it only lasted three minutes, but the moment the music ended, Tyler wanted more. Not of him singing—that he would never feel comfortable with—but singing with you. It was electric! The way you stared deep into his eyes, never once needing to look at the words. How your energy transferred to him and he found himself jumping up and down alongside you as you both belted out the song. He had never wanted you more.

And you must have felt the same because you grabbed his hand and dragged him off stage as the next performers set up. Leading him into your office, you shut the door and lunged at him, your lips slamming into his. Immediately—hungrily—he kissed you back just as he had dreamed of doing for the past several months. His hands grabbed your hips and he pulled you flush against his body. You groaned into his mouth as you felt him hardening against you and you broke away only long enough to swipe everything off your desk (something Tyler thought people only did in the movies). Then you hopped on top of it and crooked your finger at him, beckoning him over. And he happily obliged.

From that day forward, every time the Wranglers stopped by your bar, the same series of events would occur: You would welcome them in and serve them drinks. Tyler and you would sing a duet (the same song every time). You would take him back into your office and the two of you would fuck each other’s brains out.

Afterward, you would sometimes come sit at his table and talk with the other Wranglers (often sitting on Tyler’s lap). No one knew exactly what your relationship was—hell, even Tyler wasn’t sure—but it was obvious to everyone that something had happened after Tyler’s first performance, and, thankfully, no one questioned it.

For almost a year, this continued. Even when the storm season was over and the Wranglers had returned to Arkansas, they would all make a road trip to The Crooning Cowboy a few times a month to have some fun and to see you. It seemed like a perfect arrangement….until it wasn’t.

“Well, well, well. It looks like the Wranglers are back in town,” you smirked as your latest patrons filed into the bar.

Tyler grinned and placed a soft kiss on your cheek. “How you doin’, sweetheart?”

“Fine. But you’d know that if you ever answered any of my calls,” you said, placing one hand on your hip while the other balanced a tray full of beers.

Tyler’s face grew hot, knowing what you were referring to. “I’m sorry but you know this is our busiest time of year.”

“Mhm,” you hummed, rolling your eyes. “I’m sure that’s it.” You turned your back on him to address the rest of his crew. “Your usual table should be open and I’ll be right over with some drinks.”

“Thanks, MC,” Boone said as he gave you a side hug, narrowly avoiding knocking the tray from your hands. Dropping his voice, he muttered, “Sorry T hasn’t been keeping up with you. We really have been having a busy season these last few months.”

Smiling, you patted his cheek. “Oh, honey, I know exactly what Tyler’s problem is. And until he decides to do something about it, I don’t give a fuck what he does or doesn’t do.” Tyler dropped his eyes to the beer-soaked floor but you didn’t give him a second glance as you said, “Now, if ya’ll excuse me, I’ve gotta drop off these drinks before I get a table of thirsty bikers on my hands.”

As soon as you walked away, all eyes turned towards Tyler with annoyed glares. Dani crossed her arms over her chest. “What did you do?”

Tyler held up his hands, pleading innocence. “I didn’t do anything!”

“Well, obviously you did something based on that response,” Lily said. “So, what was it?”

“Can we at least sit down before we get into this? Please?” Tyler asked, looking around the room to find where you were. He couldn’t see you on the floor but you could return at any minute and he didn’t want this conversation to turn into a huge thing in front of the whole bar.

Still giving him the stink eye, the rest of the Wranglers agreed and they went to settle into their favorite table on the side of the room. It still provided a great view of the stage and the performances but offered more privacy than the tables in the middle of the room.

Once they were all seated, Tyler placed his cowboy hat on the table, then sighed as he ran his hand through his hair. “So…MC found out about me and that girl in Enid a few weeks ago.”

Boone, Dani, and Lily all exchanged a look. Then Dani asked, “That’s it? I mean, I didn’t think you guys were exclusive so why does it matter.”

“It matters because I had a video call planned with her that night and I forgot to cancel before I took that other girl back to the motel. I turned my phone off so I never saw her calls. After an hour or so of getting sent straight to voicemail, MC got really scared that I had gotten hurt on a chase or something. So…she called someone who would know what had happened.”

Three pairs of eyes scanned the table…only to land on Dexter who had sunk low in his seat.

Dani slapped the older man’s arm. “How did you not tell me!”

“It’s Tyler’s business. I figured if he wanted you to know he would tell you.” Dexter lifted his eyes to look at Tyler. “I’m still sorry I got involved in the first place. I didn’t mean to—”

Tyler held up his hand. “It’s not your fault. I messed up. I still don’t know what this is between me and MC, but I should have let her know something came up instead of just ghosting her.”

Boone nudged Dani in the side and muttered, “Something came up alright.” The two of them snickered as Tyler rolled his eyes.

“Haha, very funny.”

“What did MC say when you explained everything?” Lily asked.

Staring down at the table, Tyler fidgeted with his hat. “I haven’t talked to her since.”

“What!” Boone, Dani, and Lily exclaimed at once.

“I was embarrassed! I didn’t know what to say. So…I had Dex call her back the next day.”

“Tyler…” Lily covered her eyes with her hand, letting out an exasperated sigh. “I’m surprised she let us back in here.”

“When I talked to her, she seemed okay with the whole thing, all things considered,” Dexter said. “I think she was so afraid something had happened to him that it was just an extra shock to find out the truth.”

“So, what does this mean?” Boone asked, looking from Tyler to Dexter to Tyler again. “Are we not gonna be able to come here anymore? Because this is the only place we go to that doesn't kick me out when I get drunk and start singing.”

Tyler sighed, picking up his hat and placing it back on his head. “It means we just see what happens and act accordingly.

A few minutes later, you came over with a tray full of everyone’s usual orders. The air was tense, no one was sure where to look or how to act now that they knew what they knew. But if you noticed, you didn’t react.

Instead, you smiled at Tyler and asked, “We singing tonight?”

Tyler leaned back in his seat and peered up at you from under the brim of his hat. “Oh, I don’t know. I’ll think about it.”

All the other Wranglers stared at him like he was the biggest idiot in the world. This kind of banter and teasing was common between the two of you, but after what happened, he should be groveling at your feet instead of playing coy. Tyler realized his mistake immediately but it was too late to take it back.

You pursed your lips as your fingers drummed on the back of Boone’s seat. “Ty, I have fifty guys in here right now who would trip over themselves to get on that stage with me. So if you don’t want to—”

You turned to leave but Tyler grabbed your arm. You raised your eyebrow at him and he held up his hands with a sheepish smile. “Okay, okay, point taken. You know I wouldn’t miss our duet.”

“That’s more like it.” You walked away, calling over your shoulder, “Be ready at 9 or I’ll have Boone take your spot.”

The younger man’s eyes grew wide as he choked on his beer, sputtering and coughing at the proposition. By this point, everyone knew that your duet was always followed by an encore performance in your office. And if you wanted Boone to replace Tyler there as well as on the stage….

Luckily for all involved, Boone was not needed. Tyler took his usual place next to you on the stage, and then on top of you back in your office. Everything felt exactly like it always did and he should have just let things be.

However, Tyler once again decided to put his boot in his mouth and decided to poke at the wound instead. As you slid off the desk to get dressed, he sat up and asked, “So…we gonna talk about what happened?”

With your back still towards him as you put your bra on, you said curtly, “Don’t see why we need to. Apparently, it wasn’t important enough for you to call and explain yourself. Instead, you had Dexter try and smooth things over.”

“I’m sorry. I just didn’t know what to say.”

“How about ‘Hi. I’m not dead. I was just banging some chick I picked up and forgot I was supposed to call you.’” Your head emerged from inside your blouse and you looked over your shoulder at him. “I don’t see what’s so hard about that.”

Thinking about it for a moment, he asked, “And you would’ve been okay with that?”

You sighed, putting your hand on your hip. “Ty, I see you two, maybe three times a month. What do you think I’m doing the rest of that time?” Tyler shifted uncomfortably on the desk. He had never given much thought to who you might be spending your time with or what you might be doing while he wasn’t around. “I didn’t have an issue with the girl. I had an issue with the fact you didn’t respect me or my feelings enough to even send a text saying you were busy. That’s all I needed but I guess I don’t even warrant that in your eyes.”

“I’m sorry. I should’ve handled the entire situation differently. And I promise to work on my communication.” He handed you your skirt where it had fallen behind the desk. Then, tapping his finger on the wooden desktop, he asked, “So is what you said earlier true? You’ve got fifty other guys hanging around who you sing with then bring back here? I thought what we had was special.”

You rolled your eyes as you tucked your blouse back into your skirt. “How special can it be when I only hear from you when you’re walking in the door to my bar? What did you expect? That I would be pinning away for you, just hanging on to the hope you might grace me with your presence again?”

“No…That’s not…” Tyler slid off the desk and took your hands in his. “Sweetheart—

“No! Don’t ‘sweetheart’ me!” You ripped your hands away as your voice began to rise. “Tyler, I have never once asked you to define what this is between us or pressured you into giving me more attention than you do. But you better believe I’m not just sitting here on my ass, twiddling my thumbs waiting for you to show back up. If you’re allowed to have a life outside of us, then so am I.”

“What if I don’t want a life outside of us?” he whispered, his eyes boring into yours. “What if I just want you?”

All of the fiery attitude you had seconds before faded until you stood before him more vulnerable than you had ever seemed. Swallowing, you murmured, “Then you just need to tell me that and I’m yours.”

There was a long pause as you gave him a chance to speak. But he couldn’t. He had stared down 1000-pound bulls and driven head first into some of the deadliest storms imaginable, however, none of that ever scared him as much as the depth of his feelings for you. Even now, the words sat on the tip of his tongue begging to be set free, yet try as he might, he couldn’t open his mouth to release them. You deserved more than someone who could only give themselves to you a few days a month, and he would rather disappoint you as a fling than as a boyfriend.

When he remained silent, you set your jaw, straightened your shoulders, and nodded. “Right. Well, until then…I guess I’ll see you the next time one of your storms blows you into town.”

You walked out of your office, slamming the door behind you.

“Tyler! T, be careful! You can’t just charge in there until we know it's safe!” Boone yelled, scrambling out of the truck after his best friend.

But Tyler barely heard him as he tore down the road, jumping over debris and dodging the wreckage of the once vibrant town. All he knew at that moment was that he needed to get to you—now. Nothing else mattered until he was holding you safely in his arms.

Everything that could have gone wrong today did. First, he had woken up with a hangover and a world of regret from how he handled the situation with you the night before. He wanted to tell you how he felt—he needed you to know—but he just couldn’t. Then you were gone and refused to speak to him the rest of the night. So he drank…a lot.

At first, the hangover didn’t seem like a big deal considering the storm he was chasing was only supposed to be an EF1, EF2 at the worst. Yet the moment he spotted it on the horizon, it was clear to Tyler that the storm was much bigger than that. Then, the storm changed paths, putting it on a direct course for town. Tyler had tried calling your phone and then the bar, knowing you’d be in by now getting everything ready for that night’s customers. But the call never went through. He was on the other side of the storm and couldn’t make it in time to try to warn you in person. Instead, he and the other Wranglers were forced to watch as the town that had become a safe haven for them on their chases was decimated.

The moment the storm had finished its destruction, he floored the gas and weaved in and out of debris as he tried to reach your bar. But eventually, he reached a point where even his modified, reinforced truck couldn’t make it through. So, he threw it into park and took off running even as Boone called after him.

He was just a block or two away but the utter devastation around him made it hard to maneuver. He felt horrible running past these places where he knew people may be trapped or in need of help, but nothing and no one mattered until he knew you were safe.

As he rounded the corner, he stumbled to an abrupt stop.

In the place where The Crooning Cowboy had stood the night before, there was nothing but a pile of rubble.

As Tyler’s legs almost gave out beneath him, the only thing that kept him standing was the near-impossible hope that you might still be alive under there somewhere. Waiting for someone to come to your rescue.

He surged forward, screaming your name as loudly as he could. When he reached what was left of the bar, he dropped to his knees and began digging through the debris. Broken glass from windows and bottles sliced his fingers and wrists, twisted nails stabbed into his palms, and splinters embedded themselves deep under his skin—yet none of that stopped Tyler from searching.

He dug and dug and dug and dug but there was no trace of you, alive or dead. The area he would have to cover in addition to how deep the layers of wreckage were made this a nearly impossible task. Without some sort of clue of where to look, there was no way he could find you in time.

Collapsing to the ground, Tyler buried his head in his hands as tears began to stream down his face. This couldn’t be happening. You couldn’t be gone. Not like this. Not after he shattered something that meant the world to him and he hadn’t had the chance to try to put it back together again.

How could that have been the last conversation he ever had with you? How was it possible he would never get to tell you how he really felt? What you really meant to him?

“...matter how they toss the dice, it had to be.”

Tyler’s head bolted up, tears still clinging to his eyelashes, making his vision blur. Was that…? Holding his breath, he closed his eyes and listened.

“The only one for me is you, and you for me. So happy together…”

“MC!”

Tyler was certain now. That was your voice singing your song—the only song you ever managed to get him on stage for. Your duet. You were calling out to him.

At the top of his lungs, Tyler shouted, “Sweetheart, keep singing! Please! Help me find you!”

For a moment, there is only silence. Then…

“I can’t see me lovin’ nobody but you for all my life…”

It was faint—not just from the distance or debris, the voice itself was weak—but Tyler heard it coming from off to his left. Nearly sobbing, he scrambled towards the sound.

“When you’re with me, baby, the skies will be blue for all my life…”

When he thought he was right above the sound of your voice, Tyler began to dig with everything in him. Glass, wood, and concrete were thrown to the side as he prayed to anyone who might hear him that he would reach you in time.

And then, he saw three fingers poking up through the rubble. Grabbing them, he squeezed them tightly and was flooded with relief when they squeezed back. After another few minutes of digging, his knuckles hit something wooden, and, with a start, he realized he had found your desk. When the storm hit, you must have hid under it for protection. His brilliant girl.

Finally, he moved a large slab of concrete and he saw your face, eyes blinking in the bright sunlight. There was a large gash on your forehead that was leaking blood, and you were covered in dust, but amazingly, you seemed relatively okay from what he could see.

When your eyes adjusted and you saw him, you let out a shaky chuckle. “Ty…you actually answered my call this time.”

Tears streaming down his face, Tyler grinned. “You know me. I wouldn’t miss our duet for the world.”

You smiled but then gasped in pain. Tyler’s face fell and he moved some more debris to try to get you out. As he worked, you muttered, “I don’t know what happened. One second everything was fine, the next, the building was falling down around me.”

“It’s okay now. You’re gonna be okay,” Tyler murmured as he continued to uncover your body.

A piece of debris laid across your chest and Tyler grabbed it to lift it off you—only to immediately recoil as his fingers touched something sticky and wet. Trembling, he looked down at his fingers to see dark, crimson blood coating them and dripping steadily from the tips.

Smiling sadly, you whispered, “I’m sorry. Piece of the stage broke off and went all the way through from my back. I knew it was over before I made it to the desk. But I had to try. I…I knew you’d look for me and I—I didn’t wanna be alone when it happens.”

Tyler’s tears of relief turned to tears of sorrow. Staring at your blood still coating his hand, he choked out, “MC…I…”

“It’s okay, Ty. You found me. You came through when I needed it most.” There was an odd peacefulness to your face as you stared at him, as if you truly had accepted what was about to happen.

But he hadn’t. There was so much he still wanted to say to you. So much he wanted to do. He had wasted so much time you could have spent together all because he was too scared to tell you how he felt.

“Ty?” His eyes darted to your face and he saw blood slowly dribbling from your lips. “I need you to know…after the night we had our first duet, I never wanted to sing with anyone else ever again.”

Tears streaming down his face, Tyler cupped your cheek in his hand. “I felt the same, sweetheart. I would have sung with you for the rest of my life. And only you. I’m…I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner. ”

You smiled as you leaned your head heavily into his palm. “I’m just glad you finally did.”

As your eyes fluttered closed, you whispered, “So happy together…how is the weather…… so happy together……. we’re happy toget……………”

In case anyone was wondering, their song is Happy Together by The Turtles

Tag List: @green-socks, @mayhem24-7forever, @nerdysuperchick, @ohtobeleah,

@blue-aconite, @hederasgarden, @writercole, @ryebecca, @slightly-psycho-multifan

@xoxabs88xox, @phoenixhalliwell, @superchatnoir07, @mysticalfuncollectorus

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sage-lights · 30 days ago

Text

this love’s possessing me

word count: 2085 Amanda unknowingly starts to tiptoe the line and now Angela wants all in. (as always, a huge thank you to @babychosen for being my sounding board and helping me workshop different ideas!)

Normally, Angela isn’t one to spend her Friday nights at a kitschy beach bar. It feels horribly cliche living in Los Angeles. But when Erin came barrelling into the office Monday morning raving about a small bar she found with Vida that past weekend, it undoubtedly piqued Angela’s interest. She’s gone out on the weekends with Erin enough times to know that her friends are particular about what she deems a place worth recommending to others.

Later that week, during their lunch break, the topic comes up again. Angela is sitting with Arasha, chatting idly about random topics when Arasha starts talking about how she went out a while ago with Fabian and Rowan.

“Are you talking about that tiny place in Venice?” Angela asks, holding a fork-full of food mid-air.

Arasha lights up, “Yeah, have you been?”

“No, but I think Erin’s been talking about the same place earlier this week.”

As if the sound of her name summoned her, Erin plops down at their table, “What about me?”

“Remember that beach bar you were telling us about? ‘Rash’s been too,” says Angela.

“Oh my god, no way!” Erin turns to Arasha, “What are you doing Friday night? You’ve gotta help me convince them to come.”

Arasha laughs, “Don’t worry, Tommy’s already in. He said, and I quote, ‘There’s no way that place is actually good, I’ve gotta go!’ And I’m pretty sure Court and Shayne will be down to come too!”

They look at Angela expectantly.

“Oh, um, I don’t know guys…”

“Come on! You’ve been so busy it’s been a while since you’ve had a night out with us,” pleads Erin.

Arasha nods, “It’ll be fun, I promise. The cocktails are cheap and not shitty. And I’m sure I can get Chanse to come with as well.”

“And it’s got karaoke,” Erin cheekily adds, her voice laced with a sing-songy quality.

In the same way Erin gets summoned by someone saying her name, Amanda is bound to appear the moment someone mentions karaoke.

“Karaoke where?” Doesn’t matter, I’m already in,” Amanda takes a seat right next to Angela. Almost like it’s on instinct, Amanda leans back and drapes her arm around Angela’s shoulders. “You’re coming too, right Ang?”

She groans, “Ugh, fine. Count me in.”

Which is how Angela found herself drinking sugary cocktails garnished with brightly colored paper umbrellas and a variety of tropical fruit slices. The bar was decked out in fairy lights and tiki decor.

Her friends were all scattered about the crowded space—Tommy and Chanse were chatting (more like flirting, if she was being honest) with the bartenders, Courtney and Arasha were waiting eagerly near the karaoke stage for their turn to sing a duet, and the rest of the group were talking and laughing loudly at a couple tables near the back.

Angela raises her glass to her lips and is disappointed to find she’s already finished her drink. There’s a pleasant buzz that courses through her, but it’s not prominent enough for her liking. If she’s going to let loose tonight, then she’s going to let loose.

Wandering over to the counter, she sidles up next to Tommy and Chanse, props her elbow to lean against the counter, and sets down her empty glass.

“Do you guys do a dirty martini here?” she asks.

Chanse rolls his eyes, “Of course they do, Ang. This is a bar.”

“I don’t know! What if they only do, like, tropical themed drinks here?”

Tommy snickers, “You’d think she snuck in here or something. It’s like she’s never been to a bar before.”

“Get off my back!” Angela faces the amused bartender, deciding to make him an ally if her friends are going to turn on her. “I’d like to personally apologize for any bullshit you’ve had to endure talking to my two idiot friends. They’re the absolute worst.”

“Hey!” Chanse yells indignantly.

The bartender chuckled, wiping condensation from his hands before reaching for her empty glass, “I’ll get you that dirty martini.”

“Thank you! Hey, do you want to be my new best friend? I’m currently taking applications to replace these two!” shouts Angela, to which Chanse slaps her arm, a little harder than he intended. He winces.

She pouts, “Ow, what the fuck?”

“Jesus Christ,” Tommy shakes his head lovingly, “you two are ridiculous.”

Angela opens her mouth, about to retort when she’s cut off by Amanda magically appearing to her right side.

“What are you guys going tucked away over here?”

“There was a really cute bartender that Angela just scared away,” Chanse tries to point subtly at the man now on the far side pouring the martini from a silver shaker.

Amanda sneaks a glance over Tommy’s shoulder, “Oh, he is cute!”

“Shhh! You’re being too obvious, Amanda!” scolds Chanse.

She ignores him, laughing. “So, who’s going home with his number?”

“Oh no, I’m too busy to date right now. Plus, he’s so not my type,” clarifies Tommy, “I’m just trying to wingman for Chanse tonight.”

“How’s it going? Have you guys gotten anywhere?” Amanda prods.

The boys launch straight into recounting every single second of their conversation with the bartender from the moment they said hello. Angela smiles and nods along, occasionally lobbing insults (that lacked any real fire behind them) at Chanse.

At some point during the conversion—Angela’s not entirely sure when it happened—Amanda snakes her hand around Angela’s waist and shifts her weight onto one leg, leaning further into Angela’s personal space. She’s close enough that Angela could feel the warmth radiating from her skin and the faint brush of Amanda’s breath against her neck.

It’s been happening more often recently. An arm slung around Angela’s shoulders, a hand on her waist, a caressing thumb over her knuckles. All these little touches that make Angela’s heart skip. Amanda has never been one to shy away from physical touch and the touches are innocent enough to be friendly, but they linger just long enough to make her hope for something more.

Not that Angela’s complaining. It’s just…interesting. In the dimly lit room and with her cheeks already flushed a little rosy from the alcohol, she’s just hoping no one will clock the way her body heats up more as Amanda slowly runs her fingers up and down her side.

This happened to be one of the rare nights Angela wore a crop top, giving Amanda’s hand direct contact with her skin. The touch of her fingers on Angela’s bare skin sent a jolt through her, like a live wire sparking with each stroke leaving her a little more breathless.

Angela swears there was something about the way Amanda is stroking her that made her feel even drunker.

“Hello? Earth to Angela!”

She blinks, registering Chanse’s waving hand in front of her face.

“Sorry, I must’ve zoned out for a second. What were you saying?”

“We’ve got to cut her off after this drink,” jokes Tommy, attempting to reach over and gingerly take Angela’s martini glass from her hand. She snatches her hand back.

“Guy, I’m fine. I swear. I’ve barely had anything to drink.”

“We’ll, as a first time drinker, you’ve got to take it slow,” Chanse mocks.

“Shut up!” Angela returns his earlier favor, and wacks his arm back.

“Okay, that actually hurt, bitch.”

“Your bitch count is at four today, bitch!”

“Whatever,” tsks Chanse before redirecting his attention back to the conversation they were previously having, leaving Angela glad that they didn’t keep questioning her about what she was thinking about.

Angela’s mind drifts again, her attention slowly returning when she feels something tickling her side. At first, she thought it was the tag of her shirt, so she wiggles around trying to slightly jostle it into a new position. But the prickling sensation travels lower and lower, and oh.

Amanda’s hand has made its way into the back pocket of her jeans. Amanda’s hand is in her pocket.

It’s not like Amanda is acting inappropriately (if anything about this situation can even be considered “appropriate”); she’s not squeezing Angela’s ass or anything. Her hand is just there. Firm, but not moving. Warm, undoubtedly noticeable, and, as much as Angela doesn’t want to admit it, comforting.

She looks up wide eyed, searching for some kind of acknowledgement in Amanda’s eyes. Luckily, Amanda catches Angela staring at her and it’s like this bubble that they’re in has burst because she suddenly realized exactly where her hand has wandered.

The moment that Angela feels Amanda try to pull away, she reaches behind her and holds Amanda’s hand there.

“Ang—,” Amanda begins.

Angela leans in slightly, her voice barely above a whisper, “I like it when you touch me like that.” The words come out before she can stop herself, a quiet confession buried under the noise of the bar.

Amanda stares, dazed. And blinks. Oh, she’s actually serious about this. Carefully, she slips her hand fully back into Angela’s pocket. Only then does Angela loosen her vice grip on her wrist.

Chanse is thankfully none the wiser, still babbling on about the bartender. Tommy, on the other hand, notices how stiff Amanda now seems. They lock eyes and he slowly lowers his gaze to where Amanda’s hand is buried.

He raises an eyebrow and mouths, “What’s going on?”

“I don’t know,” she replies silently, though she can tell that Tommy isn’t even a little bit convinced. He’s about to ask again, but Amanda shakes her head, telling him to drop it.

But, he doesn’t.

“I’ve been standing way too long. We should join everyone because I need to take a seat,” announces Tommy.

Chanse shrugs and follows, leaving Angela and Amanda alone in silence. They don’t say anything as Amanda removes her hand, and this time, Angela doesn’t stop her.

“Well, I should probably get going,” she mutters, rubbing the back of her neck, trying to ignore the lingering warmth of Amanda’s touch.

“Come say ‘bye’ to everyone at least?” Amanda asks, voice gentle, her eyes searching Angela’s face.

“Say ‘bye’ for me,” Angela pulls out her phone and taps the screen, “My UberEats is about to get to my house anyways.”

“Of course it is. I’ll walk you out.”

They stop by the curb, standing in the soft glow of a streetlamp, and Angela sighs. Outside, the night air hits Angela like a wave, cool and refreshing compared to the stuffy warmth inside.

It’s sobering, but not enough to dim the electric current between them. Her pulse quickens, heat blooming in her chest as she thinks about Amanda’s touch, her warmth, and before she can stop herself, the words spill out.

“You should come home with me,” her words slurred but sincere. It’s vulnerable, though there’s an obvious desire that burns in her eyes as well.

Amanda’s lips part as if she’s going to say yes, but she hesitates and sighs, “Angela…I want to. Trust me, I do. But…”

Angela frowns, confused, her heart sinking at the rejection. “But?”

Amanda strokes Angela’s cheek gently, her thumb brushing away a stray strand of hair. “You’ve been drinking, and I…I’m not sure what this all means yet.”

The words land heavily between them, leaving Angela speechless. Behind her, she hears a car pull up and hears the driver call her name.

Amanda presses a soft kiss to Angela’s forehead, her lips lingering just a moment longer than they should. The tenderness in the kiss tells Angela everything—there’s something there, but Amanda’s not ready to face it. The warmth of it lingers, though it only deepens the ache in Angela’s chest, the unanswered question of where they stand hanging heavy between them.

“Text me when you get home so I know you’re safe, okay?” she opens the door for Angela to climb in.

“Good night, ‘Manda.”

“Good night, honey.”

Through the window, Angela watches as Amanda grows smaller in the distance until it’s just a tiny shadow that walks back into the bar alone.

She turns to look out the window, catching one last glimpse of Amanda, her figure bathed in a soft glow. There’s something painfully beautiful about the sight, but it only makes Angela’s chest tighten.

As the car pulls away, Amanda grows smaller and smaller until she’s just a tiny shadow that walks back into the bar alone.

(About an hour later, Amanda checks her phone and sees a selfie of Angela and Spork sitting on her bed with a bowl of pasta in her lap. She smiles and double taps the image.)

#amanda lehan canto #angela giarratana #amangela #smosh #smosh rpf #smosh fanfiction #erin dougal #arasha lalani #tommy bowe #chanse mccrary

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thefatedthoughtofyou · 1 year ago

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So there's a 60s song. One of my favorites. I have several, but let's not focus on that. Its called Give Him A Great Big Kiss by The Shangri-Las, and everytime i hear it, it makes me think of steddie.

More so of Steve finding the song, probably in his mom's old record case. And he's always loved the song. But then he met Eddie. And it's meaning changed. His thoughts constantly drifting to Eddie when he hears it. And he starts singing it all goofy and love sick when he hears it now.

He and Robin work at a bar downtown, Eddie works at the mechanic shop around the corner. He comes in for early lunch a lot, and that's how they meet. They get along great. All of them do. Robin loves him to death. As far as she's concerned she gained another soulmate along side Steve. One who blabbers like her and they rant at each other constantly, Steve watching them fondly.

But he's also got it bad for Eddie. Obviously. And Robin knows this. Knows about the song. And the way Steve sings it all gooey and adoring and lost in thought.

After a few plays of the song she sings along with him, they duet they're hearts out when it comes on and the bar is empty. Usually right before they open. Both of them using mops, or bottles, or dishrags as microphones as they sing.

Eddie is pining too. He's got it so bad for Steve that he finds it hard to look at him sometimes. And Robin, drukenly one night, after Steve had fallen alseep in his chair beside the pool, had told Eddie to shoot his shot. That he'd sink it, or get a home run, or a touchdown, or some other sports term that neither of them really understood.

But everytime Eddie has tried to make a move, something comes up. They get interrupted. Every. Single. Time. Eddie had decided fate was against them and almost given up hope.

He'd had a plan today. Come to the bar for lunch before they opened, ask him, whether Robin was there or not. She'd been making it a point to not speak to them if it looked like they were talking about something important. Eddie knew it was pity for him. Was endlessly greatful.

But that was how he ended up at the bar. Ducking in the side entrance they left open for him. And he's about to burst in like normal, all loud enthusiasm to see his friends, but he hears Steve groaning about something, hears Robin laughing, hears his name, and it stops him, his hand pressed gently to the door.

"Uuugghhh my god. I'm useless. I was so good at this in school. I could ask anyone out. Like it was nothing." Steve grumbles, Eddie's stomach flutters, he pushed the door open, just a crack, can only see Robin where she's perched on the bar top, legs crossed.

"Maybe that's the problem." She shrugs, Eddie sees her drop her hand to the left, he bites his lip and carefully pushes the door a bit further. He has to stifle a laugh when he sees Steve, looking forlorn, head dropped onto the bar, Robin's hand petting at his hair absent-mindedly. He turns his head to look up at her and Eddie moves to the side a bit, hoping Steve doesn't notice him.

"Huh?" He huffs, glares up at her. She pats the side of his face a couple times and takes her hand back.

"You said you did it like it was nothing. Maybe this isn't nothing? With Eddie, I mean. Maybe it's... bigger. Better!" Her hands move in a flurry in front of her as she talks, Steve ducks away from them as he sits up on the stool properly.

"Better. ...elaborate?" He says slowly, his eyes on the ceiling, his face all screwed up the way Eddie loves, his concentration face, it would be Eddie's downfall one day.

Robin nods enthusiastically, plops her feet down onto the stool next to Steve.

"Well does it feel different? With Eddie? Than it did with all those other people?" She asks, looking down at him with an impossibly fond look.

Eddie watches Steve bite his lip, think for a long moment, his hand moves absent-mindedly to his stomach. Eddie mirrors him, his stomach fluttering as he watches. Feeling a bit guilty, but he can't look away. He can't move. He has to keep listening. Needs the courage, he tells himself. Steve nods.

"Yeah it does. It's different. He's different." Steve says, and he's got this dopey look on his face that Eddie's never seen. Robin nods, slides down off the bar, her butt replacing her feet as she holds Steve's knees tightly.

"Different then what? Then who?" Robin promtps, giving him a gentle squeeze.

"Different then everyone." Steve breathes it like a prayer and then immediately shoves his face into his hands with a groan as Robin makes a high pitched noise in her throat.

"You know what this needs don't you?" She asks, excitement coursing through her now. She's on her feet before Steve answers, bouncing out of veiw, toward the jukebox in the corner. Steve groans again and turns to follower her.

"Alcohol?" He asks, voice dry. Eddie hears Robin snort.

"Maybe after work. But right now what we need, is.... drum roll please." She draws out the please. Eddie watches Steve sit on the stool, watching her. He gives her nothing.

"I said drum roll!!" She shouts, and Steve grins, tapping his hands on the stool between his legs.

"Theeeeeee Eddie song!" She sings, and Eddie faintly hears the click of the Jukebox before a womans voice fills the air. Music kicking in after the first few words, Steve already bobbing along. Eddie's heart stutters in his chest. He knows this song. Has heard Steve humming it a few times. It's not a bad song. Eddie's open to things.

He watches Robin dance back into view as Steve starts mouthing the words, pretending to fight against it. But all Eddie can hear are the lyrics, as Steve really starts to get into it, taking Robin's hand and letting her pull him off his seat.

"Thick wavy hair. A little too long. All day loooong, he's singin his song." Steve starts to sway, and Eddie can't do it, they're moving out of view and he needs to see this. He ducks through the door quietly and sinks back to the back corner silently, both of them lost in the song as they dance. Robin chiming in now.

"Well, what color are his eyes?" She asks Steve, perfectly in sync with the song, they've clearly done this... a lot. Steve shrugs and counters,

"I don't know. He's always wearing shades." He sighs wistfully.

"Is he tall?" Robin asks, climbing back onto the bar, laying on her stomach, feet kicked up in the air.

"Well, I've got to look up." Steve stays out on the dining floor, dancing between the tables, swaying his hips.

"Yeah? Well I hear he's bad." Robin scrunches her face as she sings.

"Hmm. He's good bad. But he's not evil." Steve furrow his brow, 'thinking'.

"Tell me more. Tell me more." Robin sings, kicking her feet to the beat, chin in her hands as she grins at Steve. He does a fancy twirl and falls into a chair, dreamy look on his face as he continues.

"Big bulky sweaters, to match his eyes. Dirty fingernails, oh boy what a prize." He swoons a little, his head resting on his chin for a moment before he spins up out of the chair again, dancing towards Robin as he sings through the chorus again.

Eddie's breathing is fast now, his palms sweating as he watches and listenes to Steve sing about kissing him in the street, and loving and caring for him. Wanting to always be there for him. Eddie doesn't miss how fond he looks.

He's looked fond this entire time. Fond and... something else. Eddie's not sure there's a word for it. But he thinks 'longing' might be close. He wipes his palms on his grease stained jeans and moves foward, slowly, not wanting to draw attention, but he can't stay put any longer. Robin chimes in again, rolling onto her back dramatically, arms crossed over her chest.

"Is he a good dancer?"

"What do you mean is a good dancer?" Steve laughs into the line and Eddie's stomach flutters, he could watch Steve like this forever.

"Well how does he dance?" Robin sings, sitting up and facing Steve as he closes in on the stool in front of her, places his hands on it and practically sighs the last line.

"Close. Very, very, close."

The music fades. Robin singing the last of the 'oohs' gently as it does, both her and Steve smiling at each other. Eddie takes this moment to bump into a chair, sending it screeching a few inches across the floor, both of them flailing as they turn to look at him.

"Oh my god!" Robin yells, her hands clamping over her mouth. Steve is frozen as she looks between him and Eddie. Eddie raises one hand from his thigh, wobbles his hand in an awkward wave.

"Uhh... hey." He says, brilliantly. Steve's face is getting redder and redder as he stands there, and Eddie can see him tensing. About to bolt.

So he does something he's never been very good at. For Steve. He finds his bravery and walks right up to Steve, plants himself in front of him, hands landing on his shoulders harder than he meant too, but Steve doesn't flinch.

"Hey." Eddie breathes, his thumbs soothing over Steve's collarbones.

"You already said that." Steve says flatly, he's still staring at Eddie. Eddie's pretty sure he hasn't blinked since he hit the chair.

"Right. Yeah. Lemme try somethin else then." Eddie breathes, ducks forward, presses his lips gently to Steve's, feels Steve gasp against his lips and then feels his hands clamp down on his hips, hard.

It's a small kiss. Just a press of lips really, warm, and sweet, and gentle. But when Eddie pulls back, they're both breathless. Eddie vaguely hears Robin make that happy high pitched noise again, and clapping. And then any sounds from her are drowned out by the next song that clicks on, You Send Me by Sam Cooke. Eddie loves this song.

"You wanna dance?" He asks, brushes his nose against Steve's cheek, laughs when Steve follows him, trying to catch his lips again.

"I dunno. Are you a good dancer?" Steve asks, smirking at Eddie, though his eyes are shining and soft.

"What do you mean am I good dancer?" Eddie asks, feigning offense.

"Well... how do you dance?" Steve recites, sounding almost shy.

Eddie bites his lip, wraps his arm around Steve's waist, and pulls him tightly to his chest as he turns him further onto the dance floor, guiding them between tables with an out of character grace.

"Close. Very, very, close." Eddie breathes, his heart fluttering as Steve throws his head back and laughs, his arms circling Eddie's neck as they sway together, holding each other close as the music plays on.

#OKAY Y'ALL I AM SO STOKED ABOUT THIS FIC I HOPE YOU LIKE IT #I. GONNA POST IT AND THEN RUN AWAY AND MAYBE REPAINT MY NAILS AGAIN CUZ IM NERVOUS BUT EXCITED OKAY HERE WE GOOOOOO #steddie #steddie ficlet #steddie blurb #Fates Endless Inkwell #fei #steve x eddie #steve harrington x eddie munson #platonic stobin #platonic soulmates stobin #my writing #mine #my fic

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brights-place · 9 months ago

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do you mind doing a Branch x rock troll reader?

Branch dating an Rock troll! S/O

Pairings: Branch X Reader

Warnings: None

A/N: Sorry for the late post I've been kind of busy hon! anyways take the request! <33

- He met you when poppy introduced you to him since you were going to be helping him expand the structures of pop village - Branch would be confused at first when he realize he likes you - You slowly started to bond after awhile of hanging out and him learning about your genre as he told you about his back. - It's known pop Troll is extremely happy, strives happiness and seeks fun above all things which is so like them but its also true that they are prone to absolute panic when things go wrong, often overreacting in a comical way - But branch didn't have that atrribute well he had the panicking bit but the happy and fun part? that was... uhmmmm yeah no - Branch takes awhile to open up to you especially after well The Rock world tour - I mean come on! Barb was leading an world tour and all the crimes she has committed has changed his whole view of rock trolls though he is trying to welcome them slowly - This Dude Is Autism Coded you can’t change my mind! (I’m autistic) - Attempted world domination, Attempted cultural genocide, Hate crimes, Terrorism, Piracy, Malefic, War crimes, Crimes against trollkind, Mass invasion, Mass kidnapping, Serial grand larceny, Mass brainwashing, Unlawful imprisonment, Abuse of power, Conspiracy, Psychological abuse, Extortion, Minor arson, Assault and battery, Mass property destruction, Attempted mass slavery, Corruption, and Public endangerment! He has an whole list of crimes that were committed by barb

- Though after awhile of hanging around you he couldn’t help but feel relaxed and allowed you to touch stuff in his bunker

- He Let you meet Gary and you are the only one allowed to hold Gary and know everything about him. (Gary from trollstopia if you know)

- Branch enjoys how you listen to him when he rants about things

- You were so worried when he said he would drink his own sweat which you told him not too and is unhygienic

- After awhile he would notice subtle things about you and would learn more about you and your hobbies which poppy pointed out was kind of weird for branch since he never does that for other trolls a lot but him doing that for you? Poppy smirked - He fell for an ROCK TROLL! - This man was so confused and questioning himself as you were standing in front of him telling him about your new song that you wrote and were gonna preform with Petra, Romper and Rose - He was an pop troll... you were an rock troll you were different!

- Branch would listen to you about speaking about your genre and you listen about pop genre aswell - You two would do duet songs of rock songs and pop songs but if you could convince him to sing rock songs with you he would try... It turns out he’s good at it

- You teach him some Rock n Roll greetings and handshakes which he got used to

- He did the handshake infront of poppy doing the rock n roll greeting handshake with Riff and Barb who laughed and they told him where you were which made branch flustered

- Poppy stared at him with sparkling eyes squealing questioning if you two were dating which you weren’t… Yet!

- If Branch ever found something that would suite you for example some studded belts or leather braclets he would think of you and would buy it

- Whenever you meet up he would always have an gift that reminded him of you

- His love language is Acts of Service, Quality time and sometimes Gift giving

- Though he wouldn’t mind some affection from you since whenever you see him you hug him tightly

- Introvert X Extrovert type of bond!

- You are his opposite and that’s what he loves about you

- Your smile your laugh and yes you may be different genres but he loves you so much because of it.

- Your comfortable in your own shell and you help him to become comfortable with himself aswell!

- branch is thankful for you though you mainly come to his bunker then he comes to volcano rock city since he finds it hard to breathe due to well the lava and Asch along with the foggy presence

- Though he will visit if you can’t come if your sick or your doing an show

- He stared up at you when you were on stage signing while playing your guitar while maintaining eye contact with him

- After the show was done you rushed to him hugging him squealing excitedly glad he came to see your show

- He couldn’t help but stare at you with an spake in his eyes which you returned before leaning in kissing eachother with an smile on both your lips

- Barb coughed into your hand as you giggled while branch hid his face in your shoulder grumbling

- “Love you” Branch muttered as you smiled back “I love you too”

reblogs + comments are appreciated ⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡

©brights-place 2023 — do not repost on another platform, copy, translate or edit my works! if you fit my DNI list please don't interact!

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a-reader-and-a-writer-for-all · 26 days ago

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Happy Together