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marvelfansince08love · 4 years ago

Text

The Pleasure is all mine - Chapter 4

Word Count: 4366

Pairing: Lou Miller x Fem!Reader

Setting: You will just have to read ;)

Warnings: Softest chapter so far tbh, Lou being a gentlewoman

A/N: It’s finally here! I kept deleting and adding things and it was a big mess. I have a love/hate relationship for this chapter, I hope you enjoy it, my loves! Thank you @canarypoint for helping me with the grammar/punctuation you the real MVP.

This is the longest chapter I have ever written!😂

Y/F/T - Your favourite topping

Your comments/feedback gives me life! 💛

Tags: @waitingfortheendtocome @redcrete @5aftermidnight @iamheartless @deadly-darling @gaylorrds @smuttty

I do not own the gif below!🖤

Chapter 4

Warmth surrounds me in my light slumber as my eyes slowly adjust to the light of day. A heavy weight lies across my waist, wrapped around me like a vice. Light air tickles the side of my neck, making me shiver. I look over to see Lou fast asleep, her face relaxed and content, clear of her signature black eyeliner and mascara, making her look younger. I smile gently at the sight of her.

How can I be falling this fast for a woman I barely know?

An unsettling feeling lies in the pit of my stomach, thinking about how I've easily let this woman sweep me up off my feet and into a world so alien to me, yet I don't want to run away from it, away from her.

"I can practically hear your thoughts swirling around in that beautiful head of yours, love," the deep tired voice next to me says with a teasing smirk. Her eyes open, showing me those crystal blue eyes.

I blush a deep red and bury my face into the soft pillow that smells of Lou and smile at her.

"Good morning to you too, sleepyhead."

She groans and tightens her arm around me, bringing me closer to her. Her lips press gently to my cheek before whispering:

"What were you thinking about?"

"You... me."

"What about you and me? No wait, let me guess. You were thinking about; what a hot couple we would make and that Lou is the luckiest woman in the world to have gotten the attention of the most beautiful creature in the world."

"Are you calling me vain?" I outrage mockingly.

"I thought I was complimenting you," she teases right back, grinning.

I giggle and rest my head on her shoulder, my fingers thread through hers. We both continue to joke back and forth before being interrupted by a loud knock on the door. We both spring apart at the interruption just as the door opens slightly with messy brown curls peaking through the gap; Rose's wide eyes stare at us as she stumbles over her words.

"I'm..uh.. terribly sorry to interrupt but I just thought I'd let you know that me and Tammy are taking Debbie to be checked over," the Irish woman says, rather quickly, might I add. I feel Lou relax next to me, pulling me closer again.

"Thanks Rose, text me later with an update and if you need anything, I mean anything, let me know okay," Lou says watching in amusement as Rose tries to keep her eyes on anything that isn't us. I smile gently as if to try and ease her uneasiness, feeling slightly awkward for her. I take in my attire that consists of Lou's oversized band tee and her in a barely buttoned checkered shirt and with us giggling around in bed, probably sounded worse on the other side of that door.

"Right, yes, yes of course. We'll see you later Lou, it was lovely to meet you, Y/N."

"Yeah you too Rose, thank you for your help last night," her head tilts slightly, her eyes slightly wide as she shakes her head.

"Oh no, no it was all you last night, dear. We were merely assisting, you are the real hero," she says sincerely before smiling lightly and leaving the room.

I blush at the compliment, not used to such praise. Sure, the job I do is rewarding and I get many thanks but coming from Lou's friend hits differently.

Maybe because you want Lou's friends to approve of you and also want to get into her pants.

I hear Lou chuckle next to me before she kisses my shoulder and rolls away from me to stand. My eyes are instantly drawn to her smooth, long legs. I bite my lip remembering that she only has a pair of panties on underneath that long shirt.

"Eyes up here, sweetheart," her head turning slightly as she looks at me over her shoulder and winks.

"I'll be downstairs making us breakfast, you go shower, love. The fresh towels are on the side by the shower."

"Is that your way of politely telling me I smell, Miller?" I tease.

She smirks cheekily at me before saying:

"I didn't want to say anything but- oof hey!" She whines playfully as she holds the pillow that I just threw in her direction, hitting her square in the face.

"No pancakes for you then," she sulks, pouting at me before winking and dashing out of the room.

***

Once showered and dressed into my jeans and one of Lou's band tees I make my way downstairs. From the bottom step, I stand and watch Lou move fluidly around the open space; pan in hand. 'Friday I'm In Love' plays softly in the background. I feel my lip twitch slightly before forming a wide smile; smittened.

Lou seems to sense my presence and spins around to look at me.

"Take a sit love and watch as I make the best pancakes that you will ever taste in your entire life."

I practically skip my way over to her, feeling rather giddy; loving this carefree, playful side of Lou Miller. Once I take a seat Lou places a plate full of pancakes with Y/F/T and a cup of coffee.

"Wait, you have Y/F/T too! I knew I liked you for a reason!" I cheekily say before taking a bite of the delicious breakfast.

"Oh? Here I thought it was my charm and good looks," she grins while also taking a bite of her pancakes, sitting opposite me at the countertop.

"Nah, it was that cute little white bandana you wore with that white chef's tunic. That had me swooning," I tease while taking a sip of my coffee.

"Oh so you like a woman in uniform huh? That's interesting," she glances up as if thinking about the information she's been given.

"Mmm, oh yes."

"That's funny because I kinda like a woman in a uniform... more specifically a nurses one," her eyes check me out before she leans over and stabs her fork into my pancakes and takes a bite while winking cheekily at me.

"In your dreams, Miller."

"No you're right... that kind of role play should only be allowed after we've at least been dating for 3 months, at least."

I choke on my coffee and Lou rushes around the countertop to pat my back, her brows pinched with concern.

"Shit, Y/N, I was only messing around. You okay love? Do you want some water?"

"No, I'm okay thanks and it's okay. I just wasn't expecting that response," I say feeling embarrassed for panicking.

She was just messing around, Y/N. No need to think too much into it.

"So now that I know that you're okay and we are kinda on the topic... how would you feel about going on that date...with me, today?" Her smile is wide, beaming at me.

"Hmm I'll have to get back to you on that. I am after all a very busy woman," my face serious as I pretend to think about it, mumbling about fake appointments. From the corner of my eye I see Lou lean against the countertop next to me, her arms crossed with a small grin on her face; knowing what I'm doing.

"Damn, that's a shame because I really like you and would hate to miss out on treating you to a proper date."

I think I've melted to the floor. Is it hot in here?

"Well in that case, how could I refuse such an offer."

"Okay great! So how about I drop you back at your apartment and let you rest for most of the day and pick you up at 6.30? You must still be exhausted after the day/night you've had, even though I love seeing you in my kitchen wearing my clothes."

"That sounds perfect," with matching grins we both take a sip of from our coffees.

I'm going on a date with Lou Freaking Miller!

***

"Okay, do I go for the black jeans and green silk top with the spaghetti straps and heels or do I wear these with this black dress?" I turn to Rachel wearing my black dress with thin straps while holding my emerald green silk top. My room is filled with crumpled clothes with small gaps of flooring still showing.

"Okay so the fact that you aren't putting that black dress on is a crime. The jeans and top is nice but that dress shows off your curves more and your ass, girl she is gonna die seeing you wear that," she exclaims while lounging lazily on my bed. After Lou dropped me back at my apartment and gave me a swift kiss to the cheek, promising to pick me up later on. I instantly called Rachel over in desperate need for help and encouragement.

"But she won't even tell me where the date is taking place! I can't just show up in this and then we end up on the back of her bike-”

"Which is totally hot by the way, how have you not jumped her bones?"

"Because I'm trying to respect both of our boundaries and I completely forgot the other thing," we both laugh at my failed attempt at covering up my lame excuses.

"Okay so I've decided to go for the black jeans and top!" I decide, happy with my decision. Rachel huffs slightly in defeat before agreeing that it would be the most appropriate.

"Besides if you don't take a jacket maybe she will give you hers?" She says with a dreamy look. I throw one of my old shirts at her while laughing at her ridiculousness.

"Okay romcom, now that the outfit has been chosen, want to help me with my hair and make up?"

She grins.

This is gonna be interesting.

***

Once Rachel had gone full MUA, I make my final touches with my watch and rings before turning back to her.

"So what do you think?" As I bring my curls around to my front letting them bounce lightly.

"You look amazing! She won't be able to keep her hands off of you!" She exclaims clasping her hands together. I blush at the thought of Lou's arm around me this morning in her bed; but I keep those thoughts to myself.

"That's it my work here is done, I shall leave you to it, girl. Text me all the details later... and I mean alll of it," and with a quick wink she rushes out of the door leaving me red in the face.

That girl...

My thoughts are interrupted by the sound of Harry Styles’ Adore You. I quickly grab my phone and see Lou's name eliminate my screen.

"How did you manage to change my ringtone? I really have to talk to nine-ball about privacy," I tease only feeling slightly annoyed at the intrusion.

After we all settled around Debbie last night I was able to fully introduce myself to the other woman present. Nine-ball was probably the most interesting character I've ever met, who knew someone so unassuming could be so brilliant and sharp-minded.

"Sorry I just couldn't help myself... that seems to happen a lot lately with you."

I grin wide before replying:

"So this date... am I allowed a hint, I gotta find the appropriate footwear if we are to go anywhere."

"Look outside," I turn around and face the window; standing by the bottom step of my apartment building is Lou. I bite my lip while scanning her attire; tight leather pants with a purple silk shirt that shows off some of her chest, giving me a great view of her cleavage and a dark grey long coat hanging over her forearm. I grin stupidly before grabbing my coat and running to the door.

"Well aren't you a sight for sore eyes," I say, making my way down the steps, I stop on the last step so we are eye level. Lou chuckles softly before tucking a piece of hair behind my ear and cupping the side of my face, her eyes staring straight into mine.

"And you look like a beautiful goddess... you scrub up well, love," before leaning forward and placing a gentle kiss to the side of my mouth. I instantly worry my bottom lip trying to stop myself from smiling like an idiot.

She steps back and bends her elbow slightly indicating for me to put my arm through it. I link my arm through the awaiting gap and fall into step beside her. As I go to question our next location, Lou stirs me across the street towards a dark grey RS6 Avant Audi. I turn and raise a questioning eyebrow.

"I thought you were a motorcycle kinda woman."

"Oh, I am but I thought this would be more appropriate, didn't want you to get too windswept," she winks before opening the door on my side, gesturing for me to climb in. She walks to the other side and slides into the car making herself comfortable.

"You ready?"

"Always," with matching grins we weave through the traffic of the streets of New York.

Once parked up in a quieter area, Lou helps me out of the car by offering her hand.

"Are you always this charming?"

"Depends on who you ask," I laugh, enjoying her cheeky side more and more.

"I've never been around this area before," I take in the scattered fairy lights between each lamppost and garden bushes surrounding the entrance, a sign with swirling letters reading "Alessandro's" on the front of the building.

"It's a pretty hidden spot around here, a nice place to get away from all the bright lights and loud noises of the city," Lou states, her hand comes to rest on my lower back as she escorts me through the door.

A small plump woman stands by the hosting stand, her beaming smile showing her crows feet around her emerald eyes. She immediately walks over and pulls Lou into a bone crushing hug, I hear Lou chuckle at the woman's enthusiasm before whispering into her ear in a language I'm unfamiliar with. The woman gasps and pulls away before turning to look at me, her mouth still slightly open.

"Oh where are my manners, I'm Camilla the owner alongside my Husband Alessandro. Oh what a beautiful girl, ey! You did a good job with this one, Tesoro!"

I grin as I watch Lou's cheeks slowly turn into a light shade of pink.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Camilla. I'm Y/N. You have a beautiful restaurant, you and your husband must be very proud!" She reaches for my hands and presses a light kiss in each of my palms before clasping them in between her own.

"Beautiful and polite! I like her already. Please come, come I have the best table for you both," she quickly leads the way as Lou finds her place back at my side, her hand placed one again against my back before trailing behind Camilla.

Once seated and with the promise of having the best homemade Italian wine delivered to the table we are left alone, a candle illuminating both our faces. Her crystal blue eyes sparkle above the soft glow of the candle, a soft smile settling onto her face.

"I'm sorry for Camilla, she can become very excited over meeting new people, especially someone who I take an interest in, clearly."

"Oh and does that happen a lot?" I tease only feeling a slight bit of jealousy at the idea. Her face grows serious as she reaches for my hand across the table, her thumb brushing along the back of my skin.

"Never actually, you're the first person I've ever brought here... romantically at least."

Well shit!

"Oh," I blush and bite my lip trying to hide my smug smile. She winks before giving my hand a squeeze and settling back into her chair, just as Camilla arrives with a bottle of white wine.

"Ah, my lovely ladies! Here is your wine, are you ready to order or would you like a few more minutes?"

I panic slightly looking briefly at my menu that is mostly in Italian. My eyes meet Lou's as she gestures to the menu.

"May I order for us both? Is there anything you don't like?"

"I will eat most things and I'm not allergic to anything," she grins and nods in acknowledgement. Lou turns her head towards Camilla and reels off our order in fluent Italian her voice deep and rich.

As if I needed any more reason to crush on this woman.

"Ah excellent choice, Mia ragazza! I'll get right on that, ladies enjoy your wine," with a beaming smile Camilla glides away towards the kitchen.

"So how do you know Camilla?"

She grins softly, her eyes almost glazed over reliving the memory.

"I moved out to America at an early age. I didn't know anyone and making friends wasn't my strongest qualities. One night I stumbled across this place on a walk, they were both standing by the window and must have seen me looking at the place. Alessandro came out and introduced himself to me, I ended up telling him how I was interested in owning a catering company but did I know the first thing about that, fuck no. I had all this money from running small cons around the area but nothing to really invest into. Alessandro was ecstatic to find someone who he could pass his knowledge onto, you see they never had any children off their own, so they both kind of took me under their wing. Showed me things way beyond cooking and business, they are much a part of my family as those seven women are," her lip twitches softly at the thought. I grin slightly before lifting my glass indicating a toast.

"Here's to making new friends."

She laughs at my teasing remark before tapping my glass with hers.

"To new friends."

Once our food has been eaten and our stomachs are full, we exchange stories with tears streaming from the laughter:

"So Constance then decided it was a good idea to attach the rope to the back of the car while she stood on a skateboard. Nine-ball drove down the steep road and we all just watched in horror as Constance let go of the rope and came flying down the street almost getting run over before landing on a stack of mattresses that were outside a store!"

I snort at the ridiculous story and Lou giggles the wine getting to us both making us slightly tipsy.

"Okay my darling girl, I'm afraid we are closing," Camilla regretfully says while placing a hand on Lou's shoulder. My eyes widen as I look at the time.

It's almost 10pm!

"I'm sorry for holding you up mamma Cam! Thank you for the lovely food as always," Lou gushes while squeezing the hand that rests upon her shoulder.

"Anything for you sweet girl! Now go and take this lovely woman somewhere nice, maybe the gardens at the back, ey?"

Lou rolls her eyes in good nature while looking at me and mouthing "insufferable."

I giggle quietly before reaching for my bag.

"Um, what are you doing?"

"Come on Lou we can half it," her head is already shaking at my suggestion and the gasp that comes out of Camilla's mouth clearly shows her agreement with Lou.

"You will do no such thing, my darling. You put that purse away, now! Lou knows her manners we taught her well," her scolding faint as her pride for Lou sweeps in dominating her chasting.

"She's right, Y/N, I'm paying," I pout slightly as Camilla nods her head in agreement before turning to fetch our coats. I lock eyes with Lou from across the table, they seem to soften once they fall down to see my pouting lips.

"You keep pouting like that I'm gonna have to break my first date rule," her voice suddenly huskier laced with lust. I bite my lip in anticipation and mainly to tease her further.

"What rule might that be," I say innocently. She grins devilishly before standing from her chair and making her way over to me and whispers in my ear:

"To not take you to bed," I gasp softly at her boldness, my cheeks glowing red... or is that from the wine.

Before I could say a witty comeback Camilla is practically skipping her way over, coats in hand.

"Here are your coats, my sweet girls. Lou be safe and take care of her okay, she's a keeper and Y/N darling don't me a stranger, ey. Come visit Mamma Cam, she could use the company," her eyes moving to Lou in a teasing accusation.

"Hey! I visit as much as I can Mamma," Camilla places both hands on either side of Lou's face and pats gently with a soft smile.

"I know you do, Ragazza dolce. You stay safe now you hear! Enjoy the rest of your evening ladies," she beams and waves at us as we go to turn and leave. We see Alessandro, Camilla's husband pop his head over the kitchen door.

"Lou! The arches, Neonata!" Before he winks and turns back towards the kitchen.

I pinch my eyebrows in confusion but before I have time to question, Lou is escorting me out of the restaurant and onto the quiet street, arm around my waist. Once on the street Lou reluctantly removes her arm and already I miss the warmth. Her hand gently brushes against mine, I quickly lace my fingers through hers wanting to be touching her. Her skin is soft and warm and a bask in the feeling of it.

"So where to now?"

She smiles.

***

The trees swayed back and forth around us as we walked hand in hand down the path, of the dimly lit park. My mind wandering back to the last few hours spent with this blonde goddess, a small smile appearing on my face. I feel a gentle squeeze around my hand and look up to see Lou staring at me with a soft grin.

"So how much of New York have you seen?"

"A lot actually! Almost all of the tourist spots have been checked off my list now!"

She chuckles lightly at my enthusiasm, amused.

"That's great but I think we can do better than that," she says before leading me around the corner and towards an open underbridge. I look over to her in confusion.

What could be so interesting under that bridge.

Once we walk closer and under it I realise why:

The arches.

The low arches and curve of the domed ceiling run low under the bridge, the light of the moon hitting the arches perfectly, making the tiles shine ever so brightly in the moonlight. I gasp lightly in astonishment.

"Lou, this is beautiful," my eyes taking it all in.

"Yeah, it sure is," she replies, I can see from the corner of my eye that she isn't talking about the arches. I blush under the moonlight before turning my attention to the walls.

"This place is beautiful but why are we here?" Without saying a word, Lou takes my hand and walks me towards one of the corners of the arches.

"Turn and face the wall and listen, love," I raise an eyebrow but remain silent. She chuckles quietly before whispering "Trust me," and steps away, heading towards the opposite side of the archway and turning her back to me. Its quiet for a moment before:

"Pancakes," I gasp slightly and quickly turn around at the sound but become quickly confused as Lou is still standing facing the other way, her shoulders shaking slightly.

"But how... that sounded like you were right next to me, it was so loud and clear," she turns then and smirks softly before replying:

"The domed ceiling with the height of the arches helps sound to travel and follow the arches around. That way when I speak from this side, you are able to hear me so clearly on the other side of it. There's one similar at Grand Central Station but I thought this place would be quieter," she shrugs, her cheeks tinting a slight pink colour.

Can she get anymore perfect.

"Lou, I love it truly. This is amazing," I smile wide in excitement before turning back to the wall and whispering

"Vodka."

"A woman after my own heart."

I giggle at that.

"So do you take all your ‘new friends’ here because this is definitely a babe magnet location."

"Only you, love. I seem to be doing a lot of firsts this evening."

I grin wide and I know she is too.

"Well I love it. You really are something else Lou Miller," she chuckles quietly and then silence. I get ready to turn around to see if she's still there before I hear the softest voice next to my ear:

"With you I feel like I have a childish crush, that's quickly growing up."

My heart flutters at her confession and I lean my head gently against the cool tile.

"I also have a confession... me too."

Before I can say anything else, I feel an arm wrap around me and spin me gently around, pulling me flushed against her. Leaning her forehead against mine she whispers gently into the open air:

"I so badly want to kiss you right now."

"Then do it."

Lou leans forward and presses her soft pale lips against mine, gently at first before brushing them along my pink lips and leaning forward to kiss them hard. My arms snake their way around her neck to help deepen the kiss, I feel Lou's hands brush gently down my waist and over to my ass, squeezing gently pulling me to her, as if afraid I might disappear. Her tongue skims across my bottom lip making me gasp slightly; granting her access, both fighting for dominance. I pull back slightly, rather breathless before whispering:

"Take me home."

#lou miller x reader #lou miller #oceans 8 #cate blanchett #female!reader #debbie ocean #sarah paulson #My Story #pure fluff

177 notes · View notes

exhaustedfander · 4 years ago

Note

Okay uhhh I‘m not good at giving requests. How about prinxiety and them seeing each other again after a long time! Or sth like that.😅

I had three sperate ideas for this one, but this is the one I settled on. Here’s a fluffy little human au. I’d love to hear what you think!

a03 link

materpost link

word count: 1,638

The Best Gift

Virgil rocks on his heels, glancing at his phone. According to Roman’s text, his plane landed about fifteen minutes ago. He’d be outside to greet him any moment now, and that in itself fills Virgil with more joy than he’d felt in a while.

Roman does what he could to avoid performing in shows too far away from home. He’s always scouring for gigs in the area, or at least not too terribly far away, not exactly eager to spend long periods away from his emo nightmare. However, sometimes there are roles that Roman can’t shy away from, as much as he hates the idea of leaving Virgil, and this had been one of those times.

It isn’t as though Virgil doesn’t understand; dating a traveling actor, his boyfriend actually traveling, sometimes, isn’t something that can really come from a surprise. More than that, Virgil’s incredibly supportive of his partner. Roman’s a hell of an actor and he knows it. He deserves to grace every stage that will have him, larger ones, especially. But that doesn’t make the time apart any less difficult.

Sure, they call each other a ton, Roman insists on Facetiming nightly, and they keep in touch as best they can. But it’s never any easier, facing that empty bed at the end of the day. It can be a lot to handle, realizing audiences of strangers are being graced with Roman’s presence while Virgil is home alone eating Ramen Noodles and sulking.

It’s not as though Roman is Virgil’s entire world – he’s damn close, though. Virgil has friends he loves spending time with. He works as a freelance artist, so holing himself up at home is usually more fun than depressing, painting all day long. But god, he misses Roman when he’s away. Maybe more than he’s willing to admit, sometimes.

Three months has got to be the longest they’ve spent apart since they’ve been dating, at least as far as Virgil can remember. The gig was a role of a lifetime, Roman would’ve had to be sufficiently stupid not to take it, but it wasn’t easy on the couple. Virgil flew up to see one of Roman’s shows, and that was great, but it made going back home all the more challenging. Roman’s been gone so long, Virgil’s aching to see him, and any minute now, he’s gonna get to.

Virgil can certainly think of worse ways to spend a birthday.

“Virgil?” Virgil swivels around, grinning ear-to-ear when he sees Roman walking his way, suitcase in tow. Virgil practically sprints toward him, immediately pulled into a firm embrace the moment they make contact.

“My love, my angel, mi amour,” Roman drawls, dramatic as ever but Virgil can’t find it in himself to be irritated with him, “I missed you!” Roman gets on his tiptoes (Virgil would be lying if he said he hadn’t always found their height difference adorable) pressing their lips together soundly. If they weren’t in public, Virgil would want nothing more than to keep kissing Roman for eternity, but alas.

“I missed you too, dork,” Virgil says with an unshakable grin as they pull apart, though his hand quickly finds Roman’s free-one as they walk towards the taxis, the sound of Roman’s luggage wheeling behind them. “How’s the jet lag?”

“Absolutely abysmal,” Roman declares, and Virgil’s fairly sure he’s being a little dramatic, if such a thing is even possible, “Can we have a quiet day at home? I want nothing more than to lay on the couch with you and watch Disney movies, and continue to declare my undying love for you.” Virgil snorts.

“Aw, you poor baby,” he says, only half-sarcastically, “Sure, babe. Whatever you want. Sound good to me.”

The two talk of their missed time together in the cab, Virgil telling him of some of the new pieces he’s been working on and Roman filling him in on how the play went.

“That’s the last far-away show I do for a while,” Roman says once they’ve arrived home, flopping down on the couch, “God, it’s good to be home with you.”

“That’d be nice,” Virgil admits, sitting beside Roman, which quickly turns to settling into his lap, Roman’s fingers threaded in his hair, “Not – not that you can’t do shows wherever. I get it.”

“Hey, I mean it,” Roman says, voice edging on seriousness, “I’ve missed you terribly. I’ve missed us. I loved doing the show, and I met some very wonderful people, but very little compares to you, my love.” Virgil laughs lightly as Roman presses a kiss to his lips, firm and overwhelmingly loving.

“Jesus, you’ve managed to get even sappier than usual.”

“Absence makes the heart grow fonder, darling,” Roman says, “And, also, shut up! You love it.” Virgil glares playfully at his boyfriend.

“And what if I do?”

“And you looove me,” Roman says, drawling out the ‘o’ as far as it’ll stretch. Virgil rolls his eyes, but his expression betrays nothing but fondness. “Yeah, I do. I really fucking love you, Ro.”

“More than angsty emo bands?”

“Well… let’s not go that far.” Roman squawks in offense.

“You wound me!” Virgil laughs again, the sound far more content than he’s felt in the last few months, his arms winding around his boyfriend so that he’s lying against his chest.

“I’m teasing and you know it,” Virgil says, kissing Roman once more as if to further his point, or maybe just because he’s really missed kissing him, “I missed you like crazy.”

“One of my co-stars flirted with me; would you believe that?” Virgil hums in place of a response, lost in the feeling of embracing Roman against for the first time in what feels like forever. “I have you as my lock screen, and I talk of you constantly. Also, where in the world did she get the impression I had the slightest interest in women?!” Virgil snorts at that.

“Must’ve been an off-day for her if she was delusional enough to think you were straight, or bi, or anything that isn’t insanely gay.”

“I know, right!”

Virgil’s missed this so much. Their playful back-and-forth, innocuous teasing, cuddling on the couch and basking in each other's company. As far as he’s concerned, he’d like to keep holding onto Roman like this and never, ever let him go. Virgil can’t recall when he’d become such a fucking sap, but there’s no changing it now. He’s just gonna have to live with it, and he really doesn’t mind the thought of that.

They watch Disney movies as discussed, Virgil critiquing and pointing out plot-holes all the while (Virgil, everyone knows Beauty and the Beast is a little problematic, and frankly, I don’t want to hear it!) He can tell the long flight really wore Roman out, so he decides not to comment about the fact that it’s his birthday, instead putting all of his focus on being together again.

That is until Virgil comes out of the bathroom some hours later, having just gotten ready for bed, and finding Roman sitting on their bed with a sullen expression.

“Whoa, hey, Roman, what’s the matter?” He asks, quickly sitting beside his partner.

“I’m a terrible boyfriend.” Virgil blinks. What the fuck?

“What? No, you’re not. What the hell are you talking about?”

“Your birthday,” Roman supplies, sounding gut-wrenchingly guilty, “I forgot your birthday!”

Oh. Virgil had kinda forgotten himself, too caught up in having Roman by his side once more. He glances at the clock.

“It’s not midnight yet,” he says, “You didn’t forget. Just remembered a little late.” Roman buries his face in his hands.

“I didn’t get you anything! I didn’t wish you happy birthday! I-I’m terrible, you must hate me!” Virgil sighs, settling a hand on Roman’s shoulder.

“Roman…”

“I’m sorry,” Roman mumbles weakly, embarrassedly.

“Hey, it’s okay. I don’t hate you.” Roman peaks up from his hands, daring to make eye-contact.

“You… you don’t?”

“Jesus Christ, of course not! I love you, you idiot. It’s just a birthday, I’m gonna have more of those, you know. It’s kind of this annual thing.”

“But- but I didn’t –.”

“It’s fine, babe. Seriously, I kinda forgot, too. Having you home again is gift enough, as it is. I can’t think of a better present than that.”

“I’ll make it up to you.” Virgil shakes his head, planting a kiss to Roman’s cheek.

“No need. There’s nothing to make up for. You look ready to pass out right now, as it is. I’m not mad at you for forgetting; you’ve been so fucking busy for the last couple of months, and you had a long-ass plane ride today. You’re permitted a little forgetfulness, okay?” Roman sighs as he slides into bed with Virgil and shuts out the light, his head resting on his boyfriend’s shoulder.

“I’m taking you to dinner tomorrow.” Virgil lets out a sigh.

“You don’t have to –.”

“I want to,” Roman insists, “It’s the least I can do since you’re being so gracious.”

“What, were you expecting me to force you to the couch, or something?” Roman pauses. “Roman?”

“…Maybe.” Virgil can’t help but bark out a laugh.

“Are you kidding me? After all those nights without you, I’m not letting you go anywhere.” To make sure things are crystal-clear, he tightens his hold on Roman, pressing a kiss into his hair.

“That’s good because I really wasn’t looking forward to it.”

“You’re such a dramatic doofus. Lucky that you’re so cute,” Virgil says, feeling Roman begin to go lax with exhaustion.

“Mm, love you, Virgey,” Roman mumbles sleepily.

“I love you too, Ro.”

“Happy birthday…,” Roman says before sleep greets him and he drifts off. Virgil shuts his eyes, contentment washing over him as, too, welcomes slumber.

Despite Roman’s insistent apology, Virgil still can’t think of a better birthday present.

=+=

Taglist:

@nadiestar

@unoriginalgayboyalex

Please let me know if you wanna be added to my taglist! I’d be happy to add you!

#prinxiety #romantic prinxiety #human au #fluff #so much fluff #I like to write them soft #their dynamic is just so #*chefs kiss*#SO good #Roman Sanders #Virgil Sanders #request #exhaustedfander writes #exhaustedfander

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buckyscrystalqueen · 4 years ago

Text

A Christmas Gift: Part 1

Pairings: Bucky x Reader

Warnings: Swearing

Word Count: 5,050

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“What about him?” Steve asked as he and his friends stood outside an empty U-Haul in New Jersey, waiting to find the perfect person for their next YouTube video. Tony shook his head as he scanned the lot full of early Christmas shoppers, locating a woman a few spots down and a row over that was looking between three or four different pieces of paper and a cell phone that had a kids pink unicorn sticker upside down and sideways on the back in a rust covered car.

“Them?” Sam asked as he gestured to a couple coming down the row they were in, but Tony shook his head as he glanced at an older model car seat in the back.

“Her.” He said simply as he gestured to you as you wiped tears off your face and ran your fingers through your hair to hold your slowly shaking head. “I know that look. I know that desperation… She’s the one.”

“I’ll go talk to her.” Bucky said as he put out his cigarette and took one of Tony’s YouTube channel cards from his ‘boss’.

“I’m coming, too.” Tony said as he pushed off the side of the truck and headed over with Bucky, who was usually responsible for the main camera work since he wasn’t a fan of being in front of it. You startled and looked over at the two men when they knocked before cranking down your window with a shake of your head.

“I’m sorry, I’m not leaving yet…”

“No, we’re looking to help you.” Bucky said gently as he leaned on the hood of your car to see you while Tony crouched down beside the window.

“Who you shopping for, sweetheart?” He asked softly.

“My daughter.” You sighed as you shook your head and glanced at her wish list. “Lord, my little girl, and her big hopes and dreams.” You looked back over at him and shook your head as you showed them the list. “She’s trying to bankrupt me asking for a pony, and an iPad, and cell phone, and some fancy expensive doll… And she’s only four, so I’m in for a world of hurt from here.”

“Just her?” Tony clarified, which made you startle the slightest bit.

“Just… her. I’m sorry, what did you say your name was?”

“Tony.” He laughed as he took the business card from Bucky and handed it to you. “Tony Stark. I’m a YouTuber. My camera guy, Bucky.”

“OK…”

“We’re shooting a video today, and we want to make someone’s Christmas a little more special, and you are that person.”

“Wait… what?!”

“But here’s the problem. Target never lets us film in their store long without kicking us out, and… well I rented this U Haul and while we could shop in Wal Mart, I don’t think it’s gunna fill that truck, and that’s what I need to do. So I think we’re gunna have to take it into the city.”

“Oh, no.” You said with a shake of your head. “No, I can’t let you do that. I can get a few things…”

“And I feel the need to be Santa Claus today.” He interrupted. “Please? I can’t promise a pony, but I can promise to make this Christmas a special one for your daughter. So, as long as you don’t mind, Bucky’s going to ride with you so your parking in the city, and your gas there and back is paid for, and he can get some back ground information so we know where we’re going once we’re there.”

“And so we know you actually go to the city so we’re not just standing around waiting.” Bucky laughed. You sighed and shook your head as you set the list down on your lap.

“You really don’t have to do this.”

“We know.” You looked between the two of them and over at the U Haul with a shake of your head.

“I’m not gunna end up a statistic on the five o’clock news, right?”

“No, we promise.” Bucky said. “I keep telling him we need to approach these videos a little different, but no one listens to the camera man.” You smiled and nodded your head as you started to clear off your passenger seat.

“OK, fine. But I will put up a fight. And I have to make a stop first if I’m leaving Jersey. I have to pick up a few things for my side job and that store will close before we get back.”

“Alright, we’ll follow you.” Tony said as he stood up and gestured for his friend to get in. “Don’t go kidnapping my camera man, you hear?”

“Pretty sure I should be the one concerned with that.” You laughed as you moved your purse and papers off the seat beside you, and put your seatbelt on. “Just know, I have pepper spray.”

“Oh, I would so prefer if you keep that exactly where it is, and not spray it anywhere near me.“ Bucky requested as he got into your little five speed rust bucket and moved the seat back so his long legs would fit. “I’ve been sprayed with pepper spray by my ex, who is the solid definition of crazy, and it’s not pleasant. Wait for this SUV.” You nodded and slowed down on the other side of the white vehicle, while Bucky pulled an old, bent notebook out of his pocket. “OK first, your name?”

“(Y/N).” He nodded and wrote out your name, repeating it back to you in one long, monotone note that made you smile.

“OK, and baby girl’s name and age.”

“Anna Lee. And she is four going on sixteen.”

“Anna Lee.” He said with a nod and a glance over at you. “I like that. Is it a family name?”

“No, it’s from a song, actually. Ever heard of The Band?”

“Which band?”

“No, the band is called, The Band. Here, listen.” He nodded and look ever at you as you grabbed a mix CD from the visor and put it in the player. You skipped to the track you were looking for as you pulled into the next shopping mall parking lot. “Please don’t steal my car, I’ll be right back.”

“Nope, I wanna see, too.” He said as he unbuckled and glanced over at the SUV that pulled in beside you. “What is this place?”

“It’s a crystal store.” You said as you grabbed your purse and a reusable shopping bag. “I make jewelry when Anna Lee goes to bed. Mala beads, necklaces, bracelets, rings, and earrings. I make candles, too. And usually I sell them here.”

“Namaste!” Your best friend, Wanda called out before glancing over her shoulder to see who it was. “Oooo girl! Who is this… why do you have a camera crew?”

“Wrong place, wrong time, apparently.” You sighed as you kissed Wanda’s cheek. “I’ll explain later. I need two things. One, I need to pick up my stuff, and two, I need you to relieve the baby sitter when you close because I’ll apparently be in the city until God only knows.”

“Wait, what is going on?” She asked as two of Tony’s guys flirted with Natasha, the woman that worked at the register.

“Some YouTube thing.” You said with a swipe of your hand. “Can you pick up Annie?”

“I can pick up Annie.” She said with a nod as she gestured for you to follow her to the back room. “Just don’t be gone all night, galavanting in the city. And you better check in every half hour so I don’t have to obsess over thoughts that you are dead on the side of the road or sold into sex slavery or something.”

“I highly doubt that these guys are going to sell me into sex slavery.” You huffed as you peeked into the large box with your name on it. “Please tell me you found the rhodochrosite beads.”

“Girl, who do you think I am?!” She laughed as she pulled open the top. “The list of holiday requests…”

“Oh, damn it.” You sighed as you glanced at the list of products she had sold in her store that she needed wire wrapped. “I’m never going to sleep again.”

“I’m sorry, hunny. I can still come over and help…”

“No, it’s fine.” You sighed as you put the beads in your hand back in the box and the list on top of it. “I’ll do it. I’ve done it every other year, I’ll do it again this year.”

“That’a girl.” She cheered as you picked up the box with a grunt.

“I’ll see you tonight. Bring the invoice and… fuck it, take her to McDonalds. Just leave the receipt on the table and I’ll pay you tonight, love.” She nodded and agreed as she held open the back door to help you. You said good bye to her and Natasha and smiled at one of Tony’s guys who was holding open the main door for you. Bucky grabbed the trunk for you and took the box from your hands, distracting you from the large bag one of the guys was carrying out of the store. You headed back around to the drivers side with a heavy sigh and sat back in your chair.

“OK, so let’s get back to Anna Lee. Just follow the SUV.” Bucky said as he got back in your car and pulled out his notebook again.

“OK, do you know how much I hate all of this?” You asked as you looked through your papers to pull Annie’s list out of your bank statements.

“OK, I’m guessing this is pony.”

“The first one? Yea, that’s pony.” You laughed as you glanced over at the list. “Then iPad and iPhone are next, then coloring books, and new crayons. Then what’s the next one?”

“Name? Nama? Maybe…”

“Nanea.” You laughed. “She’s the cute, Hawaiian, 1940’s, Junior Citizens Service Corps American Girl doll out of the catalog that my lovely mother signed me up for that I can’t seem to unsubscribe from since Annie has fallin’ in love with these hundred dollar dolls… I was going to try to pass the Target version off but I know that wouldn’t work.”

“So iPad and American girl.” Bucky said as he texted Steve the first two things. “What’s this last thing?”

“A man friend for mommy.” You sighed as you reached out and took the list from him. “Was on the list last year, and it’s what she’s wished for the last two birthdays. My little girl.” You sighed as you looked at the list at a red light. “I don’t deserve her.”

“She sounds like an angel.”

“She is.” You said as you carefully folded the list back up to put in her baby book with the year before’s. “Sweetest, most patient kid ever. She comes to work so I can keep my costs down, and she just sits with her toy of the day or a coloring book on the bus and plays quietly, or sits in the doorway of the room I’m cleaning and watches her show or a movie on my phone, or reads her books. For a four year old, she is an absolute gift from God.”

“What else does she like?”

“She loves to read, and practice her counting, numbers, and letters, and she’s pretty advanced for her age, which is nice. She loves Disney, and her massive collection of stuffed animals. She likes playing with the Legos my mom gave her from when I was a child, which is about as motherly as my mother can be toward her only grandchild because God forbid her daughter have a daughter out of wedlock… Do you smoke?” You looked over at him as he continued to write, but he nodded his head and leaned back to grab his cigarettes.

“Bad habit.” He said as he held out his back to you before you could open the one you secretly kept in your door.

“You’re telling me.” You agreed as you took his lighter from him and lit your cigarette. “I don’t smoke much other than one with my coffee, one after I drop my school bus off in the morning and in the afternoon, and one after I tuck Annie in. And every once in a blue moon when I’m running errands without her, I have one.”

“Yea, I wish I could live off five a day.” Bucky said as you both cranked open your windows a crack. “My friends are all idiots that stress me out and I don’t need that kinda stress in my life. Already got enough. So I smoke.”

“What’s your stress from? Bad girlfriend?”

“No girlfriend, but we’re not here to talk about me, we’re here to talk about you.” You huffed and stuck your tongue out at him. “What else does she like?” You sighed and shrugged.

“She colors a lot. Not a fan of being outside but that’s probably because I live in a bad neighborhood. She plays games on my phone. She likes Mommy’s crystals. I don’t know, she’s just a regular kid.”

“And what about you?” Bucky asked as he pulled out his phone and took pictures of his notes to pass along to Steve.

“What about me?”

“What do you like to do?” You scoffed around your smoke and shook your head at him.

“I lost the ability to do anything for myself when I got pregnant.” You told him with a glance over at him. “Every dime I have goes to that little girl. She gets all the new clothes, all the new toys, all the new games. She wants Frozen shaped Mac’n’Cheese or name brand Gushers, she’s gunna get it, and I’m going to survive with holes in my bra straps another day because they still work to pay for her to have her snack. I work three jobs for her, from way before sun up to way after sun down and live in the smallest apartment known to man kind because the rent was cheap. She is my world.

So my interest right now include mermaids, and fairies, and unicorns. And my days off are spent in a kiddy pool on my pathetic excuse for a patio playing mermaids, or playing tea party and dress up, or watching Doc McStuffins for the hundredth time because Annie wants to be a doctor right now. Either that or a mermaid or a crystal witch hippie like me. And I wouldn’t have it any other way. Because she is my little girl.” Bucky studied the side of your face as you took the last drag of your cigarette and tossed the butt out the window. “Stop looking at me like that.”

“What about her father? If you don’t mind me asking.”

“Prison. Found out I was pregnant, and he went into a bank, pretended to rob it, and shot a man that worked there just so he didn’t have to pay child support. Jokes on him.” You said with a smirk as you looked over at him. “He still has to pay in federal lock up. Unless he pulls whatever kind of stunt he’s pulling now so that he’s in solitary and not working to make sure his support doesn’t go through to try and ruin Christmas and her birthday like he has since she was born. Asshole.”

“God, you just have your work cut out for you, don’t you?” You nodded your head and glanced down as your mix CD started over, reminding you about your daughter.

“This is how I came up with Anna Lee.” You said as you found the track again and turned it up so he wouldn’t ask anymore questions about you on the drive. As he listened, Bucky pulled out his phone to text Tony directly to let him know that he had picked the right person for his Christmas video give away. He relayed everything you had told him, picking out even more details about your daughter than you had given originally, and about your lifestyle. Because the video wasn’t just about making Christmas for a kid, it was about making Christmas special for an entire family.

“I’m from Nazareth.” You said at the end of the song as you slowed to pay the toll. You glanced over at him as Bucky handed you a twenty, and continued. “Pennsylvania. My parents still live there. I get my love of 60’s music from my dad. The Band was one of his favorites. I knew when I was a child that if I had a little girl, she’d be named Anna Lee because of that line of someone staying to keep Anna Lee company. Just didn’t know as a kid what that meant, but I still fell in love with the name all the same.”

“It’s a beautiful name.” Bucky said as he took his change back from you. “Not one you hear every day.”

“I like that about it, too.”

“Just stay behind the SUV. You don’t have to wait for the U Haul.” You nodded and changed gears to speed up to keep up with the other driver. Driving through the busy streets always made you a little nervous, and the Christmas crowd made that even worse, but thankfully, you didn’t have far to go before you were parking in an above ground lot behind the SUV and next to an empty double spot the U Haul was able to fit in.

“We’ve had these spots reserved for a week.” Your passenger said to you before you even asked the question. “So, we need you to have Anna Lee’s list in hand.” You nodded your head and pulled out the list that would go in a baby box in your closet for her after today. You got out after him and locked the doors, while the little group collected behind the U Haul to introduce themselves and go over the game plan they had been making.

“So this is how it’s going to play out.” Tony said as he showed you a walking map on his phone with pins in places you were going to go. “We’re going to go in a giant circle. But most of us are not going to come back after each trip. We have fold up carts that we’ll put the bags in, and then Clint, and Bruce will run it all back to the U Haul where Scott will be hanging out, keeping an eye on it, since we’re going to be spending a lot of money and people are extra sticky fingered around the holidays.”

“OK.” You said as you glanced over at Bucky as he held out a mic pack for you.

“Needs to clip to your collar on the inside or on your jacket if you don’t plan on taking it off, line goes under your shirt, and the battery fits in your back pocket or it can clip to the back of your jeans.” You nodded your head and turned around to feed the mic up your shirt to your collar as Tony continued.

“Now, I usually do this ‘anonymously’ by supposedly grabbing people off the street, but I have to have people consent to being filmed on film for legal reasons before I can even begin, and I need them to be mic-ed up for that. Which is what we’re doing here. But once that’s done, what we’re gunna have you do is walk about half way down the block while I do my intro. And Bruce will give you the signal to walk toward me. When you pass me, be looking at Anna Lee’s list, and act startled when I get your attention. I may jump in front of you, I may grab your arm. It kinda just happens. And I apologize in advance. Just please don’t scream. It draws a lot of attention and it doesn’t look good.”

“I won’t scream.” You giggled with a shake of your head as you got Annie’s list out.

“Perfect. Now, I need you to confirm to the camera that you are OK with being on camera, in those words. Not just yes or OK, or sure…”

“I am OK with being filmed for Tony Stark’s YouTube channel and his Christmas video. No matter how much I oppose having money spent on me…”

“OK, that’s not what I wanted.” Tony laughed as Bucky smirked at you behind his camera. “But it will work. Now, one last thing. Some stores have an issue with our bigger camera, but I have Wade, our unofficial, smooth talking, ’legal guy’ that talks to managers. Try to stay close, and keep your back more to walls so that other people are not on camera. And if the big camera gets kicked out, we switch to much more subtle little ones. Just so you know what’s going on. And we’re starting with the American Girl store.”

“We also film everything and do a lot of editing so don’t worry about swearing or having to redo takes.” Bucky said as he leaned the camera away from his face a bit. “And I’ll let you know if there’s audio issues so don’t worry about the microphone and the cord.”

“Alright, we ready?” Steve asked as he clipped his mic pack to his belt. You nodded and took a deep breath as you purposely unwrapped your scarf to keep it away from the mic and followed the group down to the street. With Annie’s list in hand, you did what you were told and walked down the block to wait for the signal. You knew what was coming but your hands still shook.

“Stupid.” You mumbled when Bruce gave you the signal. You took a deep breath and carefully stepped around Bucky where Bruce was pointing so that you were passing by Tony where you needed to be.

“Miss! Hey, whoa, whoa, whoa.” Tony said as he gently took your shaking arm and turned you back around so you were facing the camera. “Hi, I have a very important question for you. Who made this Santa list for you today?”

“Oh. My daughter, Anna Lee.”

“Anna Lee. Well my name is Tony Stark. I rented a U Haul truck this year and we’re doing a Christmas video shopping spree for one lucky child this year where we fill the truck with toys for them. And a list written to Santa in glitter crayon on pink paper with stickers to boot, screams special little girl.”

“What?! No, you can’t…”

“Well Santa told me that this was the list I was looking for.” Tony interrupted with a smile, glad you were playing along. “It’s been decided by the spirit of Christmas. So what’s first on the list?” He asked as he looked at the list with you.

“Well Annie really wants an American Girl doll so that’s where I was headed first.”

“Then American Girl it is!” Tony said as he smiled over at you before looking at the camera. “Let’s fill this U Haul for Annie!” Tony stood there long enough to get a thumbs up from Bucky before turning toward you with a smile and handing you back the list. “You did good.”

“Thanks.” You said with a small smile as Bucky came up next to you as Tony looked at his app.

“Just so you know, the microphone picks up your voice even if your not in front of the camera and records it… and I can hear it all in my headset. Which is also very stupid.” Your face flushed red as he held the camera by his side and followed the rest of the group down the street.

“Oh my God, I’m so sorry.”

“Relax.” He laughed. “We can edit it out in post. No big deal. Just be mindful, OK?” With one more apology, the group turned the corner and grabbed a pair of taxis to head a few blocks uptown to stop number one. You got the quick run down on how you were supposed to enter, but that was it instruction wise. You headed through the door of one of the flagship American Girl Place stores, and couldn’t help but smile that you were standing in a store that you had wanted to see since you were a child and got your own doll.

“So which doll does Annie have her heart set on?” Tony asked as he moved you and himself just enough so that you were out of the way and in front of a wall.

“Oh, that would be Nanea. She’s…”

“First one to find Nanea without disrupting the mom’s gets a thousand dollars.” Tony said with a smirk. His friends took off a brisk walk and you glanced over at Tony. “You’re in on that too.” He said as he gestured to the store.

“Oh boys. If this is how the day is going to go, you’re in for a world of hurt.”

“Follow her.” Tony said as he pushed Bucky in the direction you went. You beelined through the crowd, past Sam and Steve who didn’t realize that Nanea wasn’t a WellieWisher doll and were searching the boxes, Bruce, who was trying to go through boxes in a round about with a bunch of other moms and girls, and Scott, who looked completely lost trying to find some kind of sign to point him in the right direction. Being a mother, and a frequent reader of the magazine, you knew exactly what you were looking for. You headed upstairs, slowed along the side wall in the middle display of all of the dolls that were sold in the historic line, before very gently reaching up to grab a box on the bottom of the third round display in.

“Found it.” You said softly as you smiled at the doll that was going to make your daughter’s whole world. Tears welled in your eyes as Bucky lowered his camera to just watch you for a moment before shooting a text to the group that the doll had been found and where and putting the camera back up on his shoulder.

“She’s a lucky girl.” He said softly, making you look up at him as you hugged the box to your chest.

“I remember opening this box when I was a little girl. It was magical. And now I get to make it magical for her, too.” You looked at him and not the camera and smiled softly. “Thank you for doing this.”

“So who are these other dolls? They all have stories, right?” Steve asked as he looked around at the section you were in.

“They do.” You said as you held the doll to your chest. “I know some of them. Julie is a hippie who stands up for girl’s rights, Melody stands up for the civil rights movement, Nanea survived Pearl Harbor, Kit was Great Depression, Samantha is an orphan, Rebecca is Jewish, Addy escaped slavery, Kaya is a Native American, Josefina lived in 1800’s New Mexico, and Maryellen lives in a time of conformity in the 50’s and she just wants to stand out. Then you have Joss who is deaf in one ear, Blair the chef, decorator, farmer, etcetera, and lastly my personal favorite, Luciana, the aspiring astronaut. Wow, I know all of them.”

“You know a lot about these dolls.” Steve said as Tony stood next to Bucky, just watching.

“I do. I had a doll when I was younger, Molly, World War II. I loved the lessons that these dolls taught, and I love that they are still teaching girls about our history. And they all have clothes and props and stuff to help reinforce those stories. Like I had a little chalk board and work books, and a desk for Molly. It’s really cute.”

“Well then obviously, Annie needs them all.”

“What?!” You snapped as you whipped around to Tony, who was smiling as if he didn’t just drop a bomb.

“One of everything the doll has.” He told his friends, who scattered across the room to grab a doll and all the accessories they had in their section. “Pay attention to the little boxes!”

“No. No, you really don’t have to do that.” You tried as he looked at Nanea’s shelves and grabbed her clothes and accessories packs.

“You agreed to this, sweetheart.” Tony said in a sing song voice as he grabbed a couple shopping bags from a woman and started to fill them. “We’re doing this for Anne…”

“Anna Lee.” You and Bucky corrected at the same time.

“Anna Lee.” Tony repeated as if committing her full name to memory. “Look, they’re historic so she can learn. And besides that, you have to look at it this way. I know we’re not gunna be able to fill a 26 foot U Haul today. I knew that going into it. But thanks to money that I get from my followers, and money that comes from selling sweaters and t-shirts, and shit, I know I have roughly one million dollars to spend on Anna Lee. And in order to get more content to be able to do this for someone else, I need to go all out. And I need you to participate as well.” You nodded your head as his friends started putting their finds in the shopping bags, and Tony gently pushed your shoulder. “Make it fun! Enjoy spoiling your kid. Just pretend you won the lottery and spend my money. Because you kinda did.”

“OK, OK.” You sighed as you took two shopping bags from him with a scowled smile. “Fine. They make furniture, clothes, pets, and accessories, too. And other dolls for younger kids, and ones that you can find to look like your kid…”

“Well then lead the way.” Steve said with a smile as the guys picked up the first round of bags. You looked over at Bucky with a heavy sigh, and he gave you a smile and a small nod.

“You got this.” With a roll of your eyes, you lead the pack of boys around, picking out and assisting them on picking the best pieces the store had.

Part 2

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky x reader #A Christmas Gift

19 notes · View notes

mayaliyah · 4 years ago

Text

Sweet Melody || Self-Para

When: March 10th, 2021

Where: Vanessa’s apartment

Featuring: Trixie Belle, Vanessa Maldette, & Nova Kang

Warnings: Brief mentions of abuse, sexual assault, drugs, alcohol

Description: Who knew that the turbulent love life of one friend could inspire a break up song?

Inspiration: Sweet Melody - Little Mix

It was another fitting for La Playa costumes and rather than being at Vanessa’s studio, it was Maya and Trixie at Vanessa’s luxurious penthouse…both girls still couldn’t get enough of being in shock and awe as they were getting fitted for their outfits. Well, at least Trixie and Nova were. Maya, on the other hand, had a melody stuck in her head. This often happened, and she was on the verge of a breakthrough. Nova was too busy admiring herself in the luxurious mirror as she playfully beat boxed and then turned once she heard Trixie’s voice.

“Uh oh, she’s spacey again,” Trixie pointed out with an eyebrow wiggle.

“Another smash hit on the way, Maya?” Nessa added with a grin.

She kept humming the melody as she adjusted her top a little as she looked in the mirror with a curious look.

“Maya?” Nessa called out once more.

“It looks amazing, Ness, sorry! The melody’s just trapped in my head,” She sighed, shaking her head.

“Right, well, I need you three to head into the closet again and pick out one more outfit for fitting, I don’t know…both of you don’t look completely comfortable or satisfied with it,” The brunette called out.

Both Trixie and Maya exchanged a look. She knew them far too well. Nova on the other hand...was a wild card. As the three of them wandered back to grab their outfits, a clear bag caught her eye. It was the most beautiful, dazzling white dress that she had ever seen, with sewn in crystals and…she was pretty sure the tulle and lace would last for days.

“Nova,” Trixie called out with a warning look.

“What?”

“We don’t talk about it, okay?” Maya responded with a hushed voice.

“Wait, why? Is that the infamous Queen V wedding dress?!” Maya whispered harshly, but Vanessa, had pretty good hearing and sighed, dramatically. Trixie groaned, shaking her head.

“Oh, Trix, don’t fret. I’m not upset about that old thing, but I do need to pick out the diamonds and burn it…eventually,” She pointed out with a sigh. “But yes, it was the wedding dress that never came to fruition. Although, I’d have to say, I dodged a major bullet,” She chuckled.

“Oh?”

“Well, let’s just say, I’ve dodged…several. Most of my exes were just utter trash…maybe with the exception of one, but even then, it’s like…a repeating song that goes on and on, heartbreak, after heartbreak.”

“Wait wait wait! Stop! Nessa, wait, this is going to sound outlandish, but…can you tell me this story?” Maya asked.

Both Trixie and Nessa exchanged a bewildered look and Nessa sighed, taking a seat on the cushion as Trixie took a seat on the ground. Meanwhile, Maya fished her phone out from her cleavage and pulled up the notes app as did Nova.

“Let’s see, first there was Nick. Sweet as could be, he was my first, in many things but our relationship was a secret because his twin sister, my best friend, forbade me to date him. But…I’d always get jealous when other girls looked his way and, I couldn’t help it. It also didn’t help in the beginning I had a crush on my best friend…let’s just say it ended tragically, then both of them moved back to London and I never saw them again.”

“Jeez…” Maya sighed.

“Damn, why be a hater cause your sibling’s happy? I’m so glad I’m an only child, like dead ass.”

“Then there was Alex. God, he was, gorgeous, another sweet guy, a bit timid, shy, but a glorious singer…although I was not a fan of his cover of whatever song he made, but the words were sweet…until I discovered he had a crush on one of my best friends, and then that was the end of that.”

“God, Nessa, I’m so sorry,” Maya shook her head.

“It gets worse,” Both her and Trixie chimed in.

“Steven, a rowdy, rebellious guy. Loved surfing, and all things Hawaiian, he grew up in Hawaii, actually, and I thought, wow, I could actually love this guy…but the partying and the abuse, and oh, did I mention he tried to knock me up? That was fun.”

Maya was practically speechless at the time and continued jotting down what came to mind.

“Then…came Lucian,” Nessa sighed. “He was supposed to be the one. He was there practically through the majority of my exes, with the exception of Nick. He was my best friend, we confided in each other. We dated for three bloody years and talked about our engagement to the point he even suggested I started designing my wedding dress. He spoke the sweetest words and did everything right, but d’you know what did him in? One of my friends, the night we got drunk, I told her that I was afraid he’d get bored of me and just walk away…and she told him and he got so bloody angry and broke up with me—ON MY FUCKING BIRTHDAY!” She practically shouted the last part out, her face was flushed with redness over her face.

“Woo…” Nova whistled out.

“Ness…maybe you should…” Trixie began.

“It’s fine, Trixie. This actually feels quite cathartic,” She chuckled. “Did I mention he left me for my supposed best friend?”

“I hope he rots,” Nova called out.

Maya sighed, shaking her head as she tried piecing together the puzzle, that were lyrics. Mostly bits and pieces that she had.

“At the end, came Scout, it was a short fling, but he spoke sweet nothing’s in my ear and made me feel like I was human…but the sweet nothings were just that, sweet, and nothing. Shelby…she was my first girlfriend, actually, but, a bit possessive and power hungry, so there’s that,” She shrugged.

“Okay, I think I might have something from this,” Maya called out. “Nessa, by the way, I’ve heard you sing before and the melody you hummed to…that’s the melody stuck in my head,” She called out.

“Which one?” Nessa asked curiously.

“The do-do-do-do,” Maya said. “Can you try that out for me?

Nessa chuckled, “That little thing? I dunno where it’s from!”

“Just try it, please?” Maya pleaded.

“Alright, um…Doo-doo, doo-doo-doo-doo

Doo-roo-doo-doo, doo-roo-doo-roo. Doo-doo, doo-doo-doo-doo

Doo-roo-doo-doo, doo-roo-doo-roo.”

“So here’s what I got,” Maya began and then sang, “In a whole other life, there was this boy that I knew. He made me feel like a woman, we were young and silly fools,”

Trixie giggled, knowing exactly who that was.

“Wait wait wait, I’m not done!” Maya chuckled and then sang, “Anyway he was in a band, wrote love songs about me. I wasn’t crazy ‘bout the words, but the melodies were sweet, went something like—“ She paused and then Nessa chimed in with

“Doo-doo, doo-doo-doo-doo

Doo-roo-doo-doo, doo-roo-doo-roo. Doo-doo, doo-doo-doo-doo

Doo-roo-doo-doo, doo-roo-doo-roo.”

“Alright, so then Nova, can you volunteer that velvety voice of yours for just these lines?”

Nova laughed, shaking her head, “Damn, butter me up and call my voice velvety.”

“I promise, just once,” She chuckled as she slid over her phone. “Same tempo as the first verse.”

“Every time we’d go dancing, I’d see his straying eyes. Gave him too many chances, push my keys too many times. Anyway, he’d start acting up, and I’d be on my way to leave, but I stopped in my tracks, when I heard this melody and it went like,”

Trixie then chimed in repeating Nessa’s previous verse with a smile, the two girls harmonizing over each other.

“Okay, so then the next part is the chorus, and I was thinking like—“ Maya began to sing, “He used to sing me, sweet melodies. He played me, made me believe, it was real love. Sang me, sweet melodies, but the day he did me wrong, the song couldn’t go on and on—“

“Ooh, what if we repeat it as a unit?” Trixie offered.

“Yes, perfect!”

“He used to sing me, sweet melodies. He played me, made me believe, it was real life. Sang me, sweet melodies, but the day he did me wrong, the song couldn’t go on and on, and on,” The trio sang in unison, perfectly harmonizing with each other.

“So the next verse, Trixie, I want you to do next,” Maya pointed out and Nessa handed her the phone. “Remember, same tempo as before.”

“Let’s see…” Trixie took a look and then sang out, “He would lie, he would cheat, over syncopated beats. I was just his tiny dancer, he had control of my feet. Yes, when he came along, that’s when I lost a groove. There was no song in the world to sing along or make me move. Something-something like—“

Then Maya repeated the previous melody with Nessa randomly making an echoing sound and Trixie ad-libbing.

“Okay, Nessa! I see you getting into it!” She teased.

Nessa rolled her eyes and shook her head. “I’m doing this for a cause!”

“The chorus goes again, but there’s one part that Nessa, you just did, and I want you to do that, Trixie, what I want you to do the melody.”

Both girls nodded and did as they were told repeating the melody, with Nessa echoing Trixie’s voice as best as she could.

“Now, Nessa…would you oppose singing that ad-lib again and continue to do so while Nova follows me into the next chorus?”

Nessa looked over at Maya and shrugged. “Eh, I don’t see why not,” She grinned and followed Nova and Maya’s lead with Trixie chiming in to harmonize.

Nova did the next chorus with Maya running in right next to her and hit a rather impressive high note. To which Trixie playfully saw it as a challenge and hit her own high note as they continued the chorus together and ended the song.

“Oh…I think we just made magic…OVER NESSA’S OWN RELATIONSHIP,” Trixie squealed excitedly.

“Maya…Nova...Trixie…was I just set up?” Nessa added as she eyed at them suspiciously.

“Maybe…but you don’t have to perform if you don’t want to…” Maya made a face.

“I am not set out to be a performer, but you know, I would appreciate writing credits,” She winked.

“Obviously, you inspired this amazing song!—Now we just have to clean up the vocals and we could actually record it on my laptop and then I could go to the studio and get it cleaned up a little further?” She suggested with a big grin.

“I—let’s at least change out of our outfits first!” Trixie said, completely starry eyed and excited.

“Seriously because I can’t be grooving in this for more than like two hours,” Nova teased.

“I’m manifesting this as a number one hit, I’m saying this right now!” Maya called out as she ran to grab her laptop, rather than change her outfit.

#sp

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therainroguefanfiction · 4 years ago

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⁂ Gold Cup (Jeno Lee)

Genre: Comedy, Fluff, AU, School, Crossover, Romance ☁

Word Count: 2,939 ☁

Pairing: Reader x Jeno ☁

World: NCT ft. Super Junior, F(x), Nu’est ☁

Author’s Note: I am trash for sports anime and I was so fucking passionate about writing this, I didn’t even want to play WoW, I just wanted to work on this. I should also note that I only know the basics of Football, so if I got something wrong, don’t sue me. Trust me, you won’t get anything but a bunch of grumpy cats. Also, I’ve never even THOUGHT about Jeno before (because damn you Chenle), but writing this made me so happy like you don’t understand and now I kind of like Jeno a bit more??

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You groaned as you got your math test back, receiving yet another bad grade. Academics had never been your strong suit and you honestly had no interest in it, either. Your strong point was Athletics and you were damn good at any sport you happened to be in the mood for. Throughout your school years, you had bounced from sport to sport, thoroughly enjoying each one. You didn’t find your love until you entered high school and joined the American Football team. It was just the kind of rough-and-tough adrenaline rush you craved. In middle school, you skated by on grades that just passed over the required number needed to pass and it didn’t affect your sports, but things were more strict in high school. If you didn’t start getting your grades up, you would be benched and disallowed from playing in any games. The thought made you want to slam your head against your desk.

Jaemin turned in his seat, sporting a frown. “You failed again, didn’t you?”

“I plead the fifth.”

“This isn’t the USA, idiot.” He sighed, plucking the test from your hand. “Coach is gonna be pissed when he sees this.”

“I know~” You threw your head back, staring at the white ceiling above. “What am I gonna do?”

“You could always ask Mark to tutor you.”

“Yeah, right, as if that boy doesn’t have enough to do.” You rolled your eyes. “Not only is he student council president, he’s also part of the drama club, music club, taking AP classes and he’s the captain of band.”

“What about Jeno?” He smirked, “He’s the second smartest kid in our class.”

Your lips pursed at the idea and you resisted the urge to kick him. Jaemin knew about your crush on Jeno and didn’t waste an opportunity to tease you about it. You glanced to the front of the room where Jeno sat, talking to a pretty girl with a cute smile.

“You don’t have many options, Y/N.” His voice was serious now as he rested his cheek in his palm. “The tournament is right around the corner and we don’t stand a chance without you. And I know you don’t want to miss this opportunity. It’s hyung’s last chance to take the cup before he graduates.”

As much as it pained you to admit it, you knew Jaemin was right. Dongho, the team captain, was in his last year of high school. His dream has always been to win the gold cup, and this would be his last chance. He was the best captain you’ve ever had and you wanted him to reach his dream, even if it meant you had to be a bit uncomfortable to do it.

Jaemin watched you curiously as you stood up, grabbing your test before approaching Jeno. The girl was gone and he was in the middle of putting away his books.

“Hey,”

He looked up at you in surprise, his cheeks growing warm. Was he dreaming? He was sure he was dreaming. “Yes?”

“Are you tutoring?”

He nodded, re-adjusting his glasses. “Do you know someone that needs help?”

“Yeah…” you rubbed the back of your head with a sigh, showing him your failed test. “If I don’t get my grades up, I’m going to be kicked off the team. I… need your help.”

His heart was beating rapidly in his chest and he bit back a smile at your words. You, the popular athlete that every sports team wanted, was asking him for help. You, the person he’s had a crush on since grade school, said that you needed him. He was ecstatic. “Um, I have time after school. Is that good?”

“I have practice… but I can skip.” You glanced at Jaemin and he raised a brow curiously, too far away to hear the conversation.

He quickly shook his head. “No, it’s okay! I can wait until practice is over.”

“Are you sure?” You questioned, meeting his eyes. It made your heart speed up.

“I’m positive.” He wouldn’t admit that he loved watching you play and silently cheering you on.

You smiled at him, “Thanks.”

“You’re welcome,”

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Your body rammed into Jaehyo’s as he tried to run past you with the ball, failing as you tackled him to the ground.

“Nice tackle!” Coach Heechul cheered from the sidelines.

You gave Jaehyo a smirk as you high fived Jaemin.

“Do you have to be so rough?” Jaehyo teased, slapping your shoulder.

“What can I say? I was born strong~”

“And humble,” he stuck his tongue out at you.

“Look who’s here,”Jaemin nodded to the stands and you glanced up, seeing Jeno settling down on the metal. He chose a spot off to the side, away from the cheering boys and girls that had crushes on the team. He had pulled out his notebook. “Jeez, he even studies when school ends.”

“It’s called homework,” Jaehyo ruffled the boy’s hair. “Is he your friend?”

“Y/N has a crush on hi – ”

You jabbed him in the gut, effectively shutting him up as he glared at you.

“No way. You? Having a crush on someone? Is hell freezing over?” He chuckled, now ruffling your hair.

“Come on, I’m human too ya know.” You frowned, shoving his hand away.

“True… but you’ve only ever been focused on sports.”

“What’s this?!” Amber snuck up behind you, pinching your cheek. “Is our little Y/N growing up??”

“God, you guys are annoying.” You grumbled, now shoving her hand away.

“Aww, don’t be embarrassed. It’s a natural part of life!” She wrapped her arms around you, pulling you into a tight hug.

“I’m not embarrassed.”

“Then why are you blushing?” Jaemin interjected. The other two sniggered at the comment.

“Ugh!” You pushed her away and stomped away from the three, feeling annoyed at their prying. You caught Jeno’s eye and he smiled, waving shyly. You smiled despite yourself, glancing at the coach. “Coach, can I leave early?”

He scowled at you, putting his hands on his hips. “Just because you’re the ace doesn’t mean you can skip practice.”

You rolled your eyes at his attitude. “I’m not skipping practice. I’m asking if I can leave early.”

“Reason?”

“…my tutor is here.”

“Tutor?” He paused before lashing out, smacking you in the head with the papers in his hand. “Yah, you failed another test, didn’t you?!”

“Does it matter?” You rubbed your head, avoiding his next strike. “I’ve got a tutor, so I’m working on it!”

He sighed heavily, “Dismissed. You better have your grades up next test or else.”

“Yes, sir~” You sent him a mock salute before rushing away, avoiding his attack. Jeno was looking down at his notebook when you approached the stands. “Oi,”

His gaze snapped up, looking at you in surprise.

“I’m gonna go get changed and then we can study.”

“What about practice?” He looked at your team in worry.

“This is more important. Besides, I got in some practice before you got here.” When he nodded, you headed off for the locker room. Since your team was coed, there were two separate locker rooms for the boys and girls. You took a few minutes debating on if you should take a shower first but ultimately decided not to keep him waiting.

As you were heading for the door, you noticed a tree-shaped air freshener hanging against the AC unit. You glanced around before snatching it, tying it to the inside of your shirt. Hopefully, it was stronger than your sweat.

You rushed outside, purposely ignoring the smug smirk your teammates were sending your way. “Let’s go,” You spoke quickly, not stopping as you walked past. He already had his things put away, so he didn’t hesitate to follow you. “Where to?”

Jeno grasped the strap of his bag with both hands. “The library is closed. We can sit in the courtyard? It’s not too hot today.”

“Sure,” you murmured. The courtyard itself was quite large, separating the gate and the school building. Several round benches and matching tables were scattered around the area, most hidden from the sky under large oak trees. In the center sat a tall fountain with crystal clear water – the centerpiece was the school’s mascot, Paly the badger.

You chose the most shaded table, plopping down on the stone. Jeno sat beside you since the table was too wide for him to reach across to teach you.

He started to pull out his books and notes. “What is your worst subject?”

You scratched your cheek. “Er, all of them?”

He laughed softly. “Okay, what subject do you hate most? And no saying all of them!” Jeno stopped you when you opened your mouth, effectively silencing you. Your reaction made him laugh again.

“Math, I guess? I’m not good with numbers.”

“We’ll start there, then. May I have your test?”

You dug into your bag, grabbing the ball of paper and smoothing it out. You gave him a sheepish smile, “I uh, needed more room…”

Jeno bit his lip to hide his smile, nodding. Despite being crumpled and torn in a few places, he was able to see the questions and answers. For the next hour and a half, the two of you sat there going over each of your tests.

He was brilliant at explaining things in a way that you could understand and he was patient when you didn’t get something right away. He took the time to write out a fake test and had you answer the questions. You had no confidence in your answers, but you did better than normal. It was far from an A, but at least you didn’t fail.

“Damn,” you breathed out, staring at the red C- he had written on the top of the paper. “Maybe you should teach the class instead.”

His cheeks lit up at the compliment. “Ah, no, I’m not that smart.”

“Excuse me?” You scoffed, staring him down. “You just raised my grade from a D- to a C- in less than two hours. You’re a genius.”

He smiled softly, looking down at his notebook. “Thank you. That means a lot coming from you.”

“What?”

“Ah, nothing!” Jeno mentally slapped himself for saying that out loud. You sat in silence for several minutes.

“Hey, Jeno. Our first game of the tournament is in ten days.” You paused, thinking over your words. “You should come. If you want to, I mean.”

“Sure! I’d love to.” You both shared a smile as the wind lightly danced around you.

“By the way…” He shifted, thinking over his words. “You don’t have to wear air fresheners. You smell fine.”

Your face flushed. “Right…”

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Jeno continued to tutor you every day after school even after the tournament began. With his help, you were maintaining a C+, B- average. In the process, the two of you had gotten a lot closer to one another.

Your team breezed through the first two rounds of the tournament, nearly losing the third round to last year’s champions, but you managed to pull it off with a score of 24 to 20. Round four was easy, but round five was evenly matched, neither team wanting to give. It went into overtime, but you managed to score the touchdown that won the game.

Your team had made it to the finals. One more game and you would take the gold cup for Dongho.

Your team gathered in the locker room on the day of the match. Jeno was standing next to you against the lockers.

“I can’t believe we did it,” Dongho looked at his teammates, eyes sparkling with tears. “We’ve worked our butts off. We didn’t get here through a fluke or by luck. We earned this! We… We…” His tears overflowed as the words caught in his throat. Amber hugged him while the coach patted his shoulder, also tearing up. “We will win the gold cup!”

“Yeah!” The team chorused, whooping and hollering in excitement.

You sniffled, cursing yourself for being so sensitive. Jeno smiled at you softly, pulling a small tissue pack from his back and handing it to you. “I’m not crying, I’m just having an allergic reaction okay.”

“I understand,” he responded softly, unable to hide his smile. You cared so much for your captain and your team – he admired you for that.

“Let’s get out there and prove that we didn’t get here on luck!” Dongho yelled. The team cheered, grabbing their helmets and filing out.

You handed the pack back, rolling your shoulders. “Jeno?”

“Hmm?”

You looked him dead in the eye, determination set in stone. “Watch me. I’ll win the gold cup for this team, for Dongho… for you.”

He couldn’t look away from your gaze, nor could he form words. Instead, he simply nodded, watching as you left the room.

The game was long, easily going into overtime. They were strong, seeming to knock you down as soon as you scored a point. Most of their players towered over your own teammates and you briefly wondered if they were on steroids because of how huge they were. Their tackles were sharp like spears, leaving your body bruised and sore, but you never gave up.

The clock ticked down.

There was less than a minute left of overtime and if you didn’t score a touchdown now, you would lose. You pushed your legs to run faster as you headed for the end zone, the ball tucked tightly against your body. You nearly tripped trying to avoid their tackles, but you stayed on your feet and kept pushing. The feeling in your legs was long gone, your body reaching its limit, but you had to keep pushing. You couldn’t let it end like this. You just couldn’t.

One of their linebackers appeared beside you and you couldn’t react in time. Your eyes snapped shut, waiting for the sharp impact but it never came.

Jaemin managed to block him, using all of his strength. “GO, Y/N!”

His scream gave you a boost of energy and surged forward, making the decision to dive. As you slid across the grass, it seemed as if time slowed down. Blood pumped in your ears and all you could hear was your heavy breathing. The screams of fans and your teammates were hazy and undistinguishable over the sound of your own heart. Why were you sliding so slow?

‘I’m slowing down. Please, just a little more!’ Time froze as you made it into the end zone. Seconds later, you felt yourself being smothered by the other team, a hoarse cry passing your lips as they knocked the air out of you. The piercing sound of the whistle greeted your ears followed by, “TOUCHDOWN!”

Time returned to normal, the screams of fans filling the air.

“Get off Y/N!”

“Move you brutes!”

“If you’re gonna cry, do it somewhere other than on our running back!”

The weight was lifted off you and you sucked in air. Jaehyo and Dongho helped you up, making sure you were alive and nothing was broken before they squished you in a tight hug.

Amber laughed at your face, “You just got your breath back and now they’re taking it again.”

“Help,” you wheezed, reaching out for Jaemin who was fighting back tears. He grabbed your hand but didn’t attempt to help.

“I’m so.. I’m so..” Dongho sobbed, squeezing you tighter.

“We did it,” Jaehyo cried.

“Break it up!” Heechul smacked the two with his papers, but it did little with their helmets on. “We need Y/N to win the cup next year!” It took some effort, but he finally managed to pry you away from the two sobbing boys, helping you towards the bench.

Your entire body was screaming, having been pushed past its limit, but you were so happy that you didn’t care.

“Y/N!” Jeno came running out of the stands, throwing his arms around your neck. His grip was warm and protective, not nearly as tight as your teammates’ had been. He didn’t care about the sweat seeping into his clothes. “I’m so proud of you. You were amazing!”

“We all were,” you breathed in his scent, a mixture of new textbook and mint. It invaded your senses. “I told you I was would win for you, Jeno.”

He pulled back, looking you in the eyes. “I… I made a promise to myself. I told myself that if you won, I would tell you…”

“Tell me what?” You had an idea of what that something was, but you wanted to hear it.

“Y/N, I – ”

“CHEERS!” Amber and Jaemin screamed, dumping the contents of the drink cooler on Jeno’s head. Jaehyo and Dongho did the same to Heechul.

Your body twitched in annoyance as you glared at the pair. “Oi, you ruined the moment you jerks!”

“Oh, were you finally going to confess?” Amber wiggled her eyebrows suggestively and you threw the closest thing at her – it was a towel and did no damage.

Muttering under your breath, you dug around in your bag to find your varsity jacket. It was a bit windy that day and you knew he didn’t have a change of clothes. He smiled at you sheepishly, cheeks turning dark as you handed it to him. You were similar in size, so it fit him snugly, filling his senses with the smell of pine and dirt.

“Jeno, I like you and want you to be my boyfriend.”

He pouted at you. “I wanted to confess first.”

You chuckled, “Just kiss me already.”

Without hesitation, Jeno’s lips found your own as his arms wrapped protectively around your body.

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📜 Read more by checking out my masterlist 📜

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mccoys-killer-queen · 5 years ago

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This Week’s Playlist (2/14)

Not sure how I got hooked on this idea- but this week I’ll be focusing entirely on 70s songs (and next week I’ll do 80s). Disclaimer: I’m not saying these are my favorite songs of the 70s (believe me that would be WAYYY too hard to narrow down), I’m just filling this week’s list strictly with songs released in the 70s.

I’ve also created a spotify playlist made up of all the songs I’ve used on playlists! I’ll update it every week (before I even post the playlist, so if you check at the right time the songs will be there!)

1.) London Calling- The Clash (1979) I like to define this song as the song that started my descent into classic rock. When I was in 7th grade I had this music teacher who would always play pop music of the late 20th century for class. This song was one of the first songs she showed us, and it became a trademark of the class. We used to get this song played at dances and stuff- so there’s a lot of middle school memory there. Guess we all wanted to be punks- and this is a great boppy song just for that.

2.) All Right Now- Free (1970) Am I being typical for picking this song...? Perhaps (because honestly, at least where I’m from, this is the only Free song anyone knows... yikes. It’s overused in media sometimes imo). But that doesn’t meant it’s not great! It’s got everything! An epic guitar riff that frames the lyrics, a sick beat, funny rhymes, a killer musical interlude with bangin piano and a guitar solo- all while being undeniably CHILL. This one of those chill summer songs to me; the kind you listen to on a hot, quiet, and sunny car ride through the country with the windows down while wearing sunglasses. That’s just the aesthetic I’ve always associated with this song.

3.) Rock’n Me- Steve Miller Band (1976) Just try not to bop. I dare you. This is a real dance-a-little-in-your-seat song with a GREAT, smooth flow to it. Killer rhymes and a fast, subtle beat you can’t avoid even if you try. Steve Miller Band is one of my favorite groups of the 70s and I wish they got more appreciation in general. I could’ve picked so many of their songs already for these playlists, but this one stood out to me this week because I feel like it’s very recognizable (I always heard this song as a kid and I feel like maybe some people on here did too). It’s so damn catchy that it’ll just stick with you, so listen and get ready for an earworm. Also a great road trip song.

4.) Once Bitten, Twice Shy- Ian Hunter (1975) No, this isn’t Great White!! This is the song we all know and love but this one’s the original! I feel like I need to educate anyone who’ll listen about this! *scoff* god, now I can see why Joe Elliott’s always shoving Ian Hunter in everyone’s faces- because he’s worth it! Maybe I’m a little biased, but I personally prefer this version over Great White’s for a bunch of different reasons. For one thing, I think this version focuses more on telling the story rather than trying to make the music over the top. The instrumentals of this one ROCK, but the way it’s constructed with the lyrics makes the story more understandable- essentially, it’s just more raw, and I like the raw sound to it, but that’s just me. You all probably know how the song goes at this point, but after listening to this version you’ll see just how much of it Great White changed. You take it upon yourself to decipher the meaning of the lyrics ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) I think we all know what “rock and roll” means at this point...

5.) Lovin’, Touchin’, Squeezin’- Journey (1979) I don’t like to acknowledge Valentine’s Day, nor was I going to mention it in any way on this playlist- but let me tell you a story: last year on VD, I was driving home from school, and this song came on the radio. Then it hit me- I had completely forgotten about ANTI-Valentine’s Day songs! This is a PERFECT example of one. It tells of an unfaithful someone who gets bitten in the ass by someone else’s unfaithfulness. Talk about a SICK burn! This has gotta be my favorite Journey song as well. It’s like a flash-fiction song; telling a huge story while barely saying anything at all. My favorite part of this song by far is how each instrument has a crystal clear part, and you can very easily pick out each one. The intro of this song is just excellent. You can clearly hear the bass, drums, guitars, and piano all introduced in different ways. It’s just a gorgeous song through and through, and those 189 “na”s at the end just tie it all together (and yes, I counted). You’ll have all the words down before you know it.

6.) You’re All I’ve Got Tonight- The Cars (1978) Like I said last week, The Cars are one of the perfect combos of rock and pop. If you think about it, this one can be another anti-Valentine’s Day song. The lyrics have a sloppy and desperate feel to them- kinda like the speaker is drunk and throwing themselves at someone because they’re that desperate. “I don’t care if you hurt me some more, I don’t care if you even the score”- like oof man, you just sound desperate. This song is a banger in every way and let’s face it- the keyboard at the chorus is just the absolute best part. Strong points for these guys are always keyboards and guitars. It’s got this rock hard chill 80s vibe to it (despite it being a 70s song- new wave, you know), you’ll feel that you need to be doing something cool while listening to it.

7.) Rock and Roll- Led Zeppelin (1971) It’s so cliche of me to use this I know I know I KNOW- but can you blame me? On Sunday in a record booth at the market I found an original Zeppelin IV and I feel like this song has been following me all week because of it. This is unarguably one the most recognizable and famous rock songs of all time- because it was so expertly crafted in every way imaginable- just like everything else Zeppelin’s ever done. It’s ALWAYS the drums that do it for me in this song. l That filler at the end is- without question- the best part of the whole song. Bonzo just KILLS it. Overall, it’s a short-ish song that uses its time extremely well; it’s like all four of them went “let’s maximize every single element that goes into a bop, and make a song like that”. In some ways, this song is objectively perfect. If you want pure rock and roll in all its glory- what better song to choose than Rock and Roll itself?

8.) Keep Yourself Alive- Queen (1973) Another objectively perfect rock and roll song with a killer drum solo. I’m super biased towards Queen- but I cannot believe I never heard of this song until I was prepping my brain to see Bohemian Rhapsody! Honestly, who thinks it’s okay to keep this hidden? It’s the leading song off of their very first album- so this is almost like the song that INVENTED Queen fans! It’s a Brian May baby- and hell yeah does it show. I think everyone needs to know this song for artistic and historical reasons. It’s pure, power rock Queen through and through- despite being one of the earliest of their songs.

9.) Cum On Feel the Noize- Slade (1973) NO, it’s not Quiet Riot!! This is the song we all know and love but this one’s the original!! Again, I feel like I need to educate anyone who’ll listen about this! I get so angry sometimes that Quiet Riot gets all the credit for songs like this one and Mama Weer All Crazee now. Slade was super popular in England in the 70s- ahead of their time for sure but definitely one with the glam rock movement- but not as big in America. I never knew these guys existed until about five years ago and damn I felt like I had to be blind before learning that. Just listen to this song and then I think the sound of it’ll make a lot more sense, like “oh yeah- Quiet Riot’s version kinda DOES sound like it could be a glam rock song from the early 70s!” Just goes to show what geniuses these guys were, because their songs can be both glam rock AND heavy metal and work either way. Once you hear this version, though, I believe there’s no going back.

10.) Roll With the Changes- REO Speedwagon (1978) This was my favorite song for a few months when I was 16- it’s absolutely EPIC. The speaker is bursting at the seams with accepting a new found moral understanding of how they feel about trying to please or win over an apparent lover. They come to the conclusion that the other person just needs to keep on “rolling with the changes” and that they’ll be there for them whenever they decide to accept that perspective. The KEYBOARD is to D I E F O R GUYS. Neal Doughty is a motherfucking SAINT- and SO IS GARY RICHRATH. This song sounds like it’s the finale of a musical or something! Possibly the biggest bop REO has ever created. It’s a groovy, extremely poetic, fast, theatrical, very slightly operatic rock and roll song and I’d highly recommend this to any person on the planet I love it that much. It’s lovable in every possible way.

#the clash #free #steve miller band #ian hunter #journey #the cars #led zeppelin #queen #slade #reo speedwagon #weekly playlists #raydio gaga

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spooky-raccoon · 5 years ago

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Road Trip (Part 10)

Rufo X Female Reader

Part 10 to Road Trip

Back to Reader’s Perspective

Tag List: @booklover2929 @the-clown-crypt @chii2blog

I woke up that morning with the memories of the night before playing over in my mind. The way Rufo eyed me as he approached the bed. How he took the remote from me and changed it to a music station, one that was playing oldies. He had grabbed my hand and we danced a little to the music. No words between the two of us and I felt we didn’t need them. Even when he had me pinned down to the bed there were no words but the sounds that filled the room. I had to blink hard and shake my head before sitting up. I could feel my cheeks heated with the blush that was sure to be bright on them. That’s when I realized Rufo wasn’t lying beside me.

I got up from the bed and made my way to the bathroom thinking maybe he was just getting ready for a shower. Though when I saw the bathroom was empty my heart started to sink. I went back to the main room and that’s when I saw the note on the desk. I took it in hand and sat down on the bed to read it.

“(Y/N),

I hate to leave like this but it’s what’s best. Go on and enjoy yourself and the rest of your vacation. Thanks for letting me tag along for as long as you would let me. Thanks for the memories and good times doll.

And just remember, gray skies are gonna clear up.

Rufo the Clown”

I sat there for I don’t remember how long until the knock on the door from room service startled me, telling me it was about time for me to get going. Even packing up and leaving in my car felt like a blur. He had left some time in the night when I was deep in sleep. Probably knew I would have asked him to stay and tell him that things would be alright. All I could do was sigh to myself and try to think of what next was on my agenda before the clown had joined. Before I found myself attached in some way.

I decided to go to the circus that we had planned to go to together. I’m sure he wouldn’t be there and it would help get my mind off of things by having some fun. I managed to find decent parking and bought my wrist band so I could freely enjoy everything the circus had to offer.

The rides were the typical rides you would find at a travelling circus and I admit I rode the Tilt A Whirl and Scrambler more times than I could count. I even managed to go on the Ferris Wheel alone even though I could feel my heartbeat pounding hard in my chest when I was at the very top all alone. The view was worth it though as I looked out the tree lines and hills in the far-off distance. I even managed to get a good couple of pictures before the descent back down.

I made it to the big top show just in time to get a good seat close to the front amongst the sea of people. The show was splendid, and I joined in on the clapping and cheering of the crowd after each act. I didn’t even notice the gaze of the tall brown-haired man who looked ever so plain in the crowd. Heck, I didn’t even notice as he was getting closer behind me when the large group of folk were guided out of the tent so they could once again enjoy the festivities outside. Though when he grabbed me that’s when he finally got my attention.

“Evening cupcake. I hope you enjoyed the show because we have some place we need to go.” His grip got painfully tight as he shoved me into his body as he made his way through the crowd. I don’t even think my feet touched the ground much.

“Let go of me!” I shouted and even though I was loud enough for several people to hear me, none of them looked at me. “Let me fucking go!” I screamed again and tried to jerk away. It always most worked but his grip was too tight and ready.

“Now, now, don’t want to ruin everyone else’s day. That would be rude cupcake. Though, there is one person I need to see you like this.” As I squirmed I saw him scanning around and then he grinned. I didn’t really like that smile of his.

“I said let me go!” I kept trying to jerk my body away again despite the pain in my arms from his hold. It almost felt like I was about to break my own bones to get out of his grip and I damn well would if that’s what I needed to happen.

Though when I looked up to see if anyone was looking I noticed one person. Rufo looking as human as ever. He was looking right at me and at Crowley. That’s when I saw the eyes in his skull sink and his skin start to tear away.

“(Y/N)! Crowley! Let her go! She’s got nothing to do with us!” I could hear the change in his voice from how it normally sounded to a dry growl as if his vocal cords were becoming taut.

“And now we make our exit.” There had been a sea of people between us and I managed to get an arm free as I reached out to Rufo.

It didn’t matter though as the people cleared away for Crowley and seemed to move in front of Rufo which didn’t end too well as they were shoved away or worse. Tears welled up in my eyes as Rufo got further and further away and eventually my arm drooped down. Crowley didn’t speak as he got me into a car, tying up my hands though still made sure I was comfortable in the back seat of my car. All I could feel was my heart aching the further we drove away.

My eyes stayed looking out the window and watching how the road twist and turned. I didn’t have a clue where were going and I doubt Crowley would give me an answer. Though I didn’t need to wait long as he pulled off to a dirt road which my car didn’t like too much with all the bumps, but it made due as we approached a small wooden cabin tucked away in the trees.

“Almost done (Y/N). Don’t you worry.” Crowley finally spoke just before getting out of the car. He came around and got me out so we could trudge our way into the little cabin.

It looked as if he had been staying here for about a day. There were some kerosene lanterns lit and the furniture that was there seemed to have always been there with an almost decaying appearance. Laying out on a starting to rot tabletop was a brief case and inside was a various things like chalk, crystals, and vials filled with questionable liquid. He had me seated on one of the sturdier chairs.

“Now, sit there and be good for me cupcake.” He tied my ankles to the chair, and finally he fashioned a rope around my torso to keep my arms pinned to my sides.

“Why are you doing this to me Crowley?” My eyes followed him as he went back to the table and he grabbed a piece of chalk from it.

“It’s not necessarily a you thing. It’s a more of him thing.” He jutted his head toward the door that we came in as he turned. “Him and I have been fighting each other for quite some time.” He moved to the center and got to work drawing a large circle and various symbols. “You see cupcake, I’m very old. Much older than you can probably imagine. I’m under certain rules and obligation to get rid of evil things. Especially when they get under my skin and make me itch.” His eyes stared into mine and that damned smile of his was back. “And he’s like the damn chicken pox.”

I didn’t say anything more as I watched him finish up. He wiped his hands on a rag which he tossed onto the table along with his supplies. He paced around the room for a bit, peaking out the window now and again.

“What makes you think he’s going to know where I am? That’s he’s going to come for me?” My leg was bouncing, well what it could with my legs tied to the chair. “I’m not much of a prize.”

“You say that but that’s not what I see.” He turned his attention to me. “He doesn’t put up with many people and put up is a strong phrase. Most of the humans he comes in contact with end up dead.” He strolled over to me and leaned over so he could get in my face. “And you two seem to have gotten rather close.” As he said that his eyes flicked over me and there was that smile that sent chills through my body. “So that makes you pretty special, cupcake.”

“We just had a lot in common. That’s all.” I tried to look away, but I could still feel his eyes staring into me. If I could fidget more in my seat, I would have. “At least I’d like to think we did.”

“Well, you have some time to think about all those things in common cupcake. It’s gonna take some time for him to find us since there were some dead-end roads on the way here that he’s gonna have to figure out for himself. So kick back, relax. Take a load off.” Crowley had a jokester smile as he stood back up and grabbed a chair for himself at the table.

So I sat there, staring at the door. Thoughts flooded my mind as I imagined Rufo trying to find me. If he was. From the window I could see some clouds over the trees roll by and all I could think of was the storms these past few days. How Rufo took it upon himself to comfort me, to distract me what ways he could. The way he looked at me with those icy blue eyes. How he held me tight to his side as we watched rerun after rerun of Cops in some hotel in the middle of nowhere. The way he looked at me during our few moments of passion followed by his lingering touches throughout the day. Hell, how he even murdered someone to keep me safe. It had honestly been one of the most enjoyable times in my life in so long.

It was that moment when I decided that I would do anything for Rufo.

#rufo #rufo the clown #rufo the clown fanfic #rufo fanfic #rufo the clown x reader #rufo the clown x female reader #rufo x reader #rufo x female reader #rufo: road trip #rufo: road trip part 10 #rufo the clown: road trip #rufo the clown: road trip part 10 #jonathan crowley #james a moore #smile no more #one bad week

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ohblackdiamond · 5 years ago

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careening (bruce/paul, pg-13)

"There’s no—casting couch for a bunch of has-beens. No magic bullet. You can push and promote however you wanna, but if they don’t play it, it doesn’t fucking matter.” Struggling with Gene's indifference towards the band, Paul takes Bruce out to dinner after a recording session.

Notes: For @lillianastras who I believe requested Bruce/Paul a long, long time ago. My only wish is that it was cuter.

“careening”

by Ruriruri

we measure our gains out in luck and coincidence lanterns to turn back the night and put our defeats down to chance or experience and try once again for the light –al stewart, “a man for all seasons”

“What do you mean, you’re not coming?”

Bruce looked at Eric, who shook his head dully, but didn’t say a word. As soon as Paul’s back was turned, he ran his finger in front of his neck. Bruce nodded.

“We can’t just cancel for today. We paid for the studio space already. We—I don’t fucking care, Gene. I don’t. No. You’re not—you’re not listening to me.” An exhale. Paul had the phone cord wrapped around his fist, was pacing back and forth. “The hell does that matter? You still think you’re gonna be some big star?”

Bruce had thought things were improving between them. That long break after the last tour should’ve done them some good. He’d mentioned it to Eric a few months back, after a shoot. Eric, weirdly cynical, had just shrugged.

“Gene wants to get a finger in a bunch of pies at once.” He’d looked off somewhere, past Bruce and past the room itself, not really wistful, and not really condemning, and took a swig of water. “Paul doesn’t like taking chances. Which is kinda funny, I mean, music’s such a… such a big risk in the first place. But I guess it’s the only chance he ever took.”

“What about you?” Bruce had asked, and Eric had laughed, a little.

“Well, my chance didn’t get me there half as fast, but maybe I’m better off for it.” He’d paused, pulling something out of his hair. A rhinestone that must’ve fallen off his outfit during the photoshoot earlier. He squinted at it, then he flicked it to the floor. “I don’t want anything bigger than I have. The fame bit, the glamor bit… it’s crap, Bruce, you know it, I know it—but they—they don’t know it. And they’re not gonna ever figure it out.”

It was a hell of a thing to say while drinking a bottle of Evian. It was also a hell of thing to tell a guy who’d known both of them, in the periphery, before KISS was even a band. But Bruce knew Eric was sincere. He couldn’t help himself. That it-factor, star power, whatever, that could spin pretense into reality for two hours at a time—it wasn’t in Eric any more than it was in Bruce. And that was fine, that was fine, except that it meant they never had any leverage. It forced them both into hours spent sitting through Paul and Gene’s arguments, paid to spectate, paid to shut up and do their jobs. Like right now. Paul was in particularly bitter form this afternoon, Queens accent getting stronger with every sentence. Bruce could picture Gene on the other line, unemotional at first, all-business, gradually devolving into defensive protests as Paul kept on.

“Oh, don’t start. Don’t start. I don’t wanna hear it. Personal? No, it’s not personal, it’s just my fucking livelihood and our fucking band—why the hell would I be upset? Yeah. Yeah, why the hell not. You didn’t even write the shit you mailed in—” and Paul cut himself off. Bruce could feel his gaze on him. It made him stop—despite Eric shaking his head earlier, he’d been trying to leave the room.

Something in Paul’s gaze seemed like it faltered. Maybe some residual piece of shame. He took the phone from his ear, cupping the receiver in his palm.

“I’m almost done, Bruce. Don’t leave yet.” And then, quieter still, without raising the receiver to listen in again, he hung up. Not with the slam Bruce had heard at least five times just during their time in this studio. Just set it down almost timidly, as if it were a piece of crystal instead of plastic. As if he were giving up. It was another few tense seconds before he spoke again. “Three-fourths of the band, that’s seventy-five percent. That’s still a passing grade, right?”

Eric nodded. Bruce repeated the gesture, added a quick “yeah” that didn’t seem to bolster Paul any. Paul still managed a faint twitch of a smile.

“C’mon.”

It wasn’t much of a recording session. Paul messed around on the guitar a bit, going back and forth on some lyrics. Eric was too enthusiastic on the drum fills, trying to make up for the tension in the studio, still heavy as L.A. smog in the air. It seemed like it just pissed off Paul further, but for once, he kept all snippy comments to himself.

Bruce just played when he was told, the chords as easy and rote as folding clothes. He knew Paul was looking for that sound—that one melody to bring it all back. That confidence behind a sure-fire hit. Bruce didn’t know what that feeling was like, but it must have been something else, or Paul wouldn’t still be chasing it ten years later. Gold record sales and MTV video rotations didn’t matter like Billboard bullets. Proof of success wasn’t in the tape deck—just in sold-out stadiums and constant radio play.

And Bruce couldn’t kid himself, really. There was no way this album would even get a top-40 single, no matter the press or the songs or the guitar work. No amount of effort could court a burnt-out audience. The old KISS Army had long since devolved into a bunch of twenty-somethings more interested in the stock market than heavy metal. Gene understood that. Paul didn’t.

Paul cut the session about half an hour short. Eric ducked out quickly, just a fluffy mess of curls rushing out the door, and after awhile, Bruce found himself nearly alone in the studio, with just Paul standing there, watching him pack up his guitar. Bruce raised his head, expecting a goodbye and getting a question, sudden and a little edgy, instead.

“How long’ve you been in KISS now?”

He didn’t have to think about it.

“Three years.”

“Three years? Three years and I haven’t ever taken you out to dinner. Jesus. Well. We’ll fix that.” Paul got up, putting his own guitar, one of them, back in its case. “I haven’t had a bite all day. What do you like, Bruce?”

“I’m not picky.”

“Then I’ll be picky. There’s a sushi place a couple miles from here. I’ll drive us over.”

And that was it. Ten minutes later, he was in the passenger’s seat of Paul’s car. Paul fidgeted, stuck in a CD (“the damn things skip as bad as a record, I should’ve got the tape player”). For all his interview claims of not listening to other bands, Bruce knew better. He had Slippery When Wet in there, was tapping his fingers against the wheel to the beat. Always on the lookout for a hook to riff off of, or a turn of phrase to peel away. Something dirty and distinctive. Emulating the other bands wasn’t getting them any airplay, but God, were they all trying.

“They say Mick Jagger’s putting out another solo album this year.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.” Paul nodded, turning up the volume. He was always doing that. When Bruce had first joined KISS, Gene had pulled him to the side one day, told him, quietly, that Paul needed to stand or sit beside him during interviews and T.V. appearances. Bruce had thought that was the oddest bit of micromanaging he’d ever heard of, telling him where to stand, or where not to stand. It had taken him awhile—probably half that tour—to really figure out why. Paul’s hearing wasn’t great, and it made his nerves worse. Particularly when there was more than one interviewer, more than one voice he had to focus on. He depended on Gene’s oddly gentle conspiracy, Gene’s automatic willingness to stand next to him and repeat any question for him, to even get out there, as if Bruce or Eric couldn’t have done the same.

“If it does well enough, he might cut out.” Paul said it almost like a dare. Still on about Jagger. Bruce raised his head.

“Of the Stones? I don’t think he would.”

“No, out of the Commodores. Of course the Stones.”

Bruce flinched slightly. He felt Paul’s glance on him, brief and almost softer, heard him clear his throat.

“Sorry. You don’t think he’d leave? Why not?”

“Because he can’t. There’s the money, but… he couldn’t cut out of being one of the Stones, not even if he wanted to.”

“You’re real naïve, Bruce. It’s cute.” Paul skipped the next song on the CD, then, once he’d surveyed the deck, he pushed another button. The CD swapped out with a humming sound, and after a second, Bob Seger came rasping through the speakers. Paul went silent then, except for that slight rap of his fingers against the steering wheel.

Bruce didn’t push for more conversation. Something mild about the weather, maybe, but that was about it. Paul was an oddly adept driver; Bruce had known that beforehand, but being in the car with him cemented it. He threaded through the traffic as adroitly as the cabbie he hadn’t been in fifteen years. Pulled in to the restaurant, a restaurant that didn’t look as luxurious as Bruce had expected.

He knew, three years in, that the flush of fame was more than half a put-on, that pretense was the name of the game, but he was still surprised. Paul and Gene kept a tight fist on KISS’ image, made sure the Playboy playmates and the rented mansions were all the public got a glimpse at. Even tried to keep him and Eric from really seeing what was behind the scenes. The money situation, the tour situation, like the two of them couldn’t count the empty seats from their vantage points onstage. But the put-ons had continued anyway. When they’d had sit-down dinners as a band, depending on the area, Paul and Gene would do their best to go somewhere classy, somewhere the right people would be. Not someplace like this.

He was surprised when Paul stepped out ahead of him and opened the restaurant door for him. Less surprised at the flash of recognition from the hostess, and the hasty way she led them both to a table.

“You come here often, Paul?”

“I’m just a good tipper.”

They sat down. The waitress awkwardly tried to pull back their chairs for them. Bruce cocked his head at that, but let her. She passed out the menus, rattling off the evening’s specials as if she wasn’t used to giving them, taking furtive glances at Bruce that Paul didn’t seem to notice, handing back the menu after barely looking at it.

“I’ll have a Long Island iced tea,” he said, “and he’ll take—Bruce, what do you want?”

“Coke is fine.”

“Are you sure?” Paul paused. “I probably won’t have half of it, if you’re worried about my driving—"

“I’m sure.”

“All right. … Go ahead and start me off on the spicy yellowtail roll, I think.” Paul said it so conversationally that Bruce thought he was still talking to him and not the waitress, at first. It didn’t help that he wasn’t quite looking her in the face, just turned vaguely in her direction. Antsy. The busboy darted over, passed out their glasses of water and a small saucer of lemon slices—Paul must’ve come down here more than once or twice.

It felt odd. The whole thing felt a little off-kilter, as if the tenseness from the studio had lingered like a shot of novocaine in his system. As if there was something—something everyone else was expecting. Bruce gave the waitress a second to scribble the order down before adding his.

“I’ll have a California roll.”

“Damn, you’re really breaking the bank here,” Paul said dryly.

“Nah, just kosher.” It was the first joke he’d even tried to go for since getting in the car, but Paul seemed to appreciate it. Enough to smile.

“I won’t tell. In fact, I might have one myself.” Paul took one of the lemon slices, squeezing it into his glass of water before dropping it in, shoving it down to the bottom with his straw. “Can’t get any farther from yeshiva than Hollywood, can you?”

“There’s always San Francisco.”

“You’re pretty funny when you try, Bruce.” Paul sipped at his water. “Did you go?”

“Go where?”

“To yeshiva.”

Bruce peeled the paper off his straw, shaking his head.

“Nah. Bob did. I wasn’t that interested.”

“Me, either. Hell, I didn’t even have my bar mitzvah. How’s Bob doing these days?”

Bob wasn’t a topic Bruce expected Paul to broach on his own. He blinked, then nodded, answering after a swallow of water.

“He’s good. Still touring with Meat Loaf.”

“Good.” Paul toyed with his straw. “If… if he gets a break, tell me. I’d like to catch up.”

Bob probably didn’t want to catch up. With him, the resentment simmered deep under the surface, probing its way up at regular intervals that only Bruce ever had to deal with. Fifteen years of it. Awhile back, Bruce had gone on a tour of Mount Kilauea, over in Hawaii. The guides had let them walk nearer to the lava flows than Bruce ever thought they would, and one guy almost lost his shoe from taking a second to step on the stuff. That was how Bob was. Volatility that seemed harmless right up until it set you on fire.

“Well, he’s on that world tour now, he’s pretty busy.”

“Yeah.” The corner of Paul’s mouth quirked up faintly as the waitress returned with their drinks. He was looking at her now—he kept looking at her past when she left their table—a wry expression on his face that Bruce couldn’t quite figure out. It wasn’t interest. She wasn’t Paul’s type; not blonde and not beautiful. Just a regular girl with an irregular patron. “I know.”

“I think he’s got a month off in July,” Bruce finally offered.

“Cool. Let me know?”

“Sure.”

Not a whole lot they could talk about that Bruce could see. Bob hadn’t ghosted a track for KISS in five years or so, and with Bruce around, he wouldn’t need to. Maybe Paul was just feeling sentimental, wanting to visit somebody that had been his friend. He didn’t exactly have a surplus of those.

Bruce sipped at his Coke, but Paul was already downing his drink like it was water after a marathon. Strange to watch. Bruce had never seen Paul take more than a single glass of wine at a party. New Year’s saw him more sober than most nursing home residents. Another absence out of Gene shouldn’t have been enough to change that.

“You probably think I’m a prick,” Paul said out of nowhere, waving his hand before Bruce could respond. “It’s fine, everybody does.”

“I don’t.”

“Jesus, Bruce, we’re having dinner, not discussing your contract. You can say I’m a prick if you want to. It won’t hurt my feelings.”

“I think you’re under a lot of pressure right now.”

“Is that what Eric told you to say?”

“No, I’m just—things seem like they’re getting to you.”

“Then it’s that obvious.” Paul laughed. “It’s so obvious you’re calling me out on it.”

“Paul, I’m not calling you out—”

“You are. That’s fine.” The Long Island iced tea was already halfway gone. Bruce hadn’t had more than three swallows of his soda. Paul shifted. “Hell, it’s kind of refreshing. I didn’t think you had it in you.”

“I’m not trying to—” Bruce started, but Paul continued before he could even finish the thought.

“I like it, all right, Bruce? Nobody but Gene’ll even try to tell me off anymore. And he doesn’t care enough to bother.” Paul only paused to take a long gulp of his drink. “Tell me what I should do. Tell me how to calm down.”

Bruce hesitated. His palm felt like wood against the side of his glass of Coke. He’d seen this before out of Paul. Not particularly often, and almost never toward him. That weird, calculated lashing out. It made him feel like a frog in the hands of a biology major. The amount of evisceration didn’t matter; he’d be dead no matter what.

“I don’t know. Look, man, your business is your business.”

Surprisingly, Paul went silent at that. His brow was furrowed, but he didn’t look angry or put-out. He didn’t look much of anything. The waitress came by with their sushi rolls, but Bruce only took the chopsticks in his hand and broke them apart, waiting for Paul to answer, or change the subject, watching him drain the last of his drink and order another without much of a pause.

“My business is your business, there’s the problem. Yours and Eric’s and Gene’s and—and Peter’s, isn’t that a laugh? His share of KISS hasn’t expired yet. God. I’ve been paying his rent for seven fucking years. Serve him right if the new album didn’t sell one copy.”

That was news to Bruce. He tried not to react visibly.

“You don’t mean that.”

“You sure I don’t? A quarter of zero’s still zero.”

“You want the album to do well. So do I. So does everybody involved.”

“It’s not gonna do well. Y’know what me and Gene did? We fucked ourselves over. We threw out everybody that we thought was trying to—to steer the ship out from under us. We stacked the deck so full of yes-men that we couldn’t see past our own asses.” Paul exhaled. “You… you’re never gonna tell me my lyrics are shit. You’re never gonna tell me I’m making a goddamn fool of myself out there onstage. I wish you would. I wish for one minute somebody would tell me exactly—”

“Do you really want someone to hurt you that bad?” Bruce said it softly. His throat felt like wet cardboard. Paul’s gaze—vaguely on his face, nowhere near his eyes, ever— dropped straight down to his drink, his fingers twitching before grasping his empty glass again, as if to steady himself.

“I’d beg them for it. If it’d get KISS back on top again, I-I’d let anyone do whatever they wanted.” Paul finally seemed to notice his plate of sushi. He picked one of the rolls up, slipping it into his mouth. He didn’t speak again until he’d finished swallowing. “Course, that’s not how the music industry works. There’s no—casting couch for a bunch of has-beens. No magic bullet. You can push and promote however you wanna, but if they don’t play it, it doesn’t fucking matter.”

Bruce didn’t know how to answer that. The silence spread like the cigarette smoke from a few tables over. He took in the scent, thinking of barrooms and ballrooms, thinking of KKB’s sad little shows when he was a teenager. The way the three of him would go out there for a handful of people, certain it’d work out, because it was working out for his older brother’s buddies. Because they were on tour, only Bruce didn’t know back then that tour was full of pubic lice and moldy boots, only Bruce didn’t know back then that tour nearly ended only a couple months in. He’d only scratched the surface. He hadn’t understood.

Paul’s second drink was set on the table, the drained glass disappearing like a magician’s feeblest trick. The waitress shot both of them a questioning look, one Paul ignored, taking his first swallow. Three shots worth of alcohol in a single glass of that shit. Three shots on an almost empty stomach. Bruce didn’t want to look at Paul right now. Instead, he looked over at the girl, wanting, strangely, to speak to her, to ask her what her expression was for, what she knew that he didn’t. It seemed—it seemed, strangely, like he ought to know, like everyone else knew—but she was back to the other patrons once she’d refilled Bruce’s glass.

“It isn’t even just about being on top anymore. It isn’t about the—the ego trip the way it used to be. I don’t give a damn these days if anybody recognizes me on the street or not.”

Bruce doubted that. He doubted that intensely. He’d seen Paul peering out the tour bus windows after they were in the hotel parking lots too many times. He knew he was always hoping for the old throng of autograph seekers and groupies. Gene, too. Even Eric, in scattered, abashed moments, would talk about the Australian and European tours back in ’80, the utter insanity of it (“so many girls I could’ve made it with, but I didn’t know any better—I thought they couldn’t want me, man, they had to be wanting somebody else”). Paul could still pick any girl he wanted out of the crowd, have a roadie bring her backstage. He still did it most nights. But the adulation had disappeared before Bruce ever arrived at the scene.

“If I could get a hit… if KISS could fill a couple stadiums, just a couple… then it’d be all right. I’d feel okay. God, who knows, maybe Gene would even show up to record again, you think?”

“He’ll be back anyway, Paul.”

“He won’t. He thinks we’re finished.” He was working on that second glass, almost as enthusiastically as the first. “Ace was mailing in his guitar parts just before he quit. But at least they were his. Gene’s throwing me songs he bought off the nearest wannabe writer on the street. And I sucked it up like an idiot at first because I thought he was gonna come back anytime, say he was sorry, get back to how it was. Instead he lets me handle everything, album after album. He gets credit for the successes like he even showed up. And he blows off the failures ’cause he’s got plenty of other bands he’s managing. Never mind his own.” An exhale. “He doesn’t give a damn anymore.”

“I think he does.”

Paul’s expression changed at that. The cynical cast to his features, the tight way he was holding his jaw, all that shifted, flickered, and for a bare, odd second Bruce could almost see the twenty-year-old Bob had brought over to their parents’ apartment and introduced as Gene’s friend. Then Paul shook his head and the moment disappeared.

“You don’t need to prop me up like that. It’s okay. I can’t give him what he wants, I need to cut my losses and quit trying.”

“Paul, listen, you’re not looking at this right. Gene’s not—”

“You don’t know how Gene is. I could be as understanding as Mother Theresa and he’d still be blowing me off.” Paul paused, drink midway to his lips. “I’m sorry. Am I ever gonna let you talk, Bruce? I can’t afford two therapy bills.”

Bruce shrugged.

“I don’t mind.”

“You’ve got a lot to say and I don’t ever let you say it. Not on MTV or the interviews… God, I act like we don’t all sleep in the same crappy hotels.”

“I don’t really like interviews, it’s fine.”

“Bruce, I’m trying to apologize.”

Bruce’s free hand went to the back of his neck, rubbing awkwardly, before resting back on the table.

“I know what you hired me to do. I’m not expecting anything else.”

“Maybe you deserve it.” Paul’s hand was on the table, fingers curled inches from Bruce’s own. “I like writing songs with you. I never… I didn’t write any with Ace, and Vinnie, well…” He shrugged. “It feels good. It feels real good.”

“I like it, too. It’s fun.”

“It makes me think it’s ’76. Like I’ll turn around and find Bob Ezrin snorting a mountain of coke in the office. And—and Ace and Peter, too, looking like they used to. I can fucking see Ace’s card deck. And Gene’d be right there, leaning up against the music stand—I can fool myself pretty good, when I want.”

“Look,” Bruce said, rubbing his chopsticks together with his finger and thumb, the sound soft, dry, “look, I honestly think things might be turning around.”

“They won’t turn eleven years around. I can’t fool myself that much.” Paul’s expression darkened back up, and he reached for his drink again. More than half of it was gone now. The side of his boot brushed against Bruce’s ankle for a brief moment before pulling back. “My accountant told me to stop sending my parents so much money. Like I was a kid spending all his allowance. I’ve cut so many expenses I’m down to a fucking one-bedroom apartment.”

Bruce’s gaze dropped to the untouched California roll on his plate, and the chopsticks in his hand. Paul laughed again.

“Go for it. It’s fine.”

“I wasn’t really that hungry.”

“Your check’s gonna clear with or without the sushi. Trust me.”

“Paul—”

“In fact…” Paul trailed, pulling his own plate forward, “that’s not how you eat sushi, anyway. When we went to Japan in ’77… we went out to this real authentic restaurant, supposedly. The sushi chef came out there and our guide, she’d translate everything he said… he said you don’t eat it with chopsticks, you eat it with your hands. ’Cause it was fast food, before Americans turned it into something it wasn’t.” Paul paused, picking up the second roll on his plate. “This used to be their version of a fucking hamburger, can you believe that?”

“That’s interesting,” Bruce said, and he meant it, but Paul’s expression got a little deflated.

“It’s not interesting, it’s awful. Like the hula girls in Hawaii. Every-everything turned into a commodity. You gonna eat that roll, Bruce?”

“Yeah, I’ll—”

“One bite.” Paul popped his own into his mouth to demonstrate. A few seconds of chewing, a swallow, and then he continued. “Course, you didn’t get the real stuff, so maybe it doesn’t matter, but…” He waved the waitress back over, absently. “Get him a rainbow roll, would you? Thanks.”

“Paul, c’mon—”

“If you don’t eat it, I will.” Paul said. His eyes looked a little sharper now, a little more intent. Bruce set down his chopsticks, picked up one of the small California rolls on his plate. The rice was sticky and cold against his fingers. He stuck it in his mouth, not bothering with the smear of soy sauce on the dish. The taste of surimi and cream cheese burst onto his tongue, neither excellent nor terrible, just there, competently mediocre. He reached for the next one, almost mechanically, but Paul’s hand was there already, closing over the roll before he could.

“Not real crab, I know,” he said, quietly, “but maybe it’ll taste better this way.” And then Paul had the roll in his palm, extended towards his face like an offering.

“Paul—”

“Go on, Bruce.”

Bruce reached for the roll. He meant to pick it up out of Paul’s hand, but something stopped him. Not Paul, not exactly. Paul didn’t curl up his hand or push it out further or say another word. Maybe it was pity, that bastard child of all emotions, that made Bruce just tip the sushi a little closer with his fingers as he ate it from Paul’s palm. One bite. His tongue didn’t get anywhere near Paul’s skin. But Paul seemed to relax at that. He was starting to smile again, mouth wavering like wind-tossed stalks of wheat in a field. The pads of his fingers brushed up against Bruce’s almost delicately, before he withdrew his hand.

“How was it?”

“Good. It was good.”

“Good.” Paul took another piece of his own sushi, dipping it lightly into the soy sauce. “Want to try some of mine?”

“I—no, that’s fine.”

“You don’t have to worry. Nobody here is gonna bother us.” Paul started in again, conversationally. “Are you shy, Bruce?”

“No. I’ll just finish what I’ve got.” Two pieces left. The waitress hadn’t returned with the rainbow roll yet. Bruce hesitated; for an insane moment he felt like he should add a thank you, but he cut himself off with another swallow of sushi. Across from him, Paul just shrugged and popped his own piece in his mouth, following it up by downing a little more of his drink.

“You are shy. That’s all right. I am, too.”

“Paul—”

“It’s cool.” Paul reached his hand across the table, resting it on top of Bruce’s, running his fingers up and down his wrist. His face was faintly flushed. “I mean, to be honest, it sucks, being shy in a rock band, but—it’s cool, I get it, if you’d rather in private—”

Bruce drew his hand back belatedly. Slowly, not wanting to startle Paul, whose expression barely faltered at all.

“I don’t think so.”

“Bruce—”

“You’ve had too much to make an offer like that.”

“I’d make it sober,” Paul said. Deprived of Bruce’s hand, he shifted forward. A second and Bruce felt the side of Paul’s boot against his ankle again. “You’re a good guy, I always liked you.”

“Paul, no.”

“I did. I always did. You…you’re reliable, you listen, you’re easy on the eyes—Bruce, it’s not—if you’re worried about your job, don’t be, this doesn’t need to—be anything, it’s just—”

“No.”

“Bruce, please.”

“No.” The wet cardboard feeling in his throat was back again. He could feel Paul’s eyes on him, not sharp anymore but suddenly desperate instead, his mouth tight as a steel trap. He should’ve stopped him. Shouldn’t have let him keep on and on. He’d never have gotten to this point then. He’d never peel back this much of himself, like the soft insides of a crab, weak and exposed. Bruce never should have let him do it.

He shifted his foot and stood up.

“Give me your keys. I’ll take you to the hotel.”

“I’m not—”

The waitress arrived with that second plate of sushi. This time she wasn’t looking at them at all. Something caught deep in Bruce’s throat then, something dark that he didn’t want to place or name for sure.

“Bruce, please.” Now Paul was standing, leaning one hand heavily against the table. A step, hand sliding to the edge of the table, and he was in front of Bruce, his other hand clamping around his shirt. Bruce could smell the cologne in his hair, the alcohol on his breath. “It—if you’d just stay with me—"

“Paul, let me have your keys.”

Paul pulled them out. Fumbled with his wallet. Bruce shook his head, taking the keys but nothing else, putting a couple bills from his pocket on the table before Paul could try to argue. He felt Paul press in against him, push his mouth sloppily against his neck, but that was all. No other come-ons or protests. Nothing. He shifted easily after, let Bruce walk him to the car, to the hotel, to his room, even. Bruce didn’t give the keys back until after that hotel door was unlocked and Paul was inside. He was tempted to hold onto them, even then—but Paul’s expression was faltering so badly that he didn’t want to strip any last piece of pride from him. He’d had sense enough to let Bruce drive. Surely he’d have sense enough to stay in his room.

Paul’s fingers closed around the keys for only a few seconds. Bruce watched as he dropped them on the dresser and stumbled to the bed, peeling off his boots, head bent and turned away from him.

“Go on. Would you go on, Bruce? I got it from here.”

Bruce hesitated at the door.

“Go on.”

Every reassurance he could make sounded hollow even in his brain. Even the ones from that afternoon. He couldn’t ease a burden he didn’t have the means to lift.

He turned the knob and left without a word.

He didn’t see Paul again until their next recording session. He’d left an apology on Bruce’s hotel answering machine, and a written one under his door, his cursive cramped and uneven, but he didn’t say a word. Bruce didn’t expect him to.

Gene was there at the studio, surprisingly, indifferent, with a copy of Variety open on his lap and a Pepsi in hand instead of his bass most of the session. Paul looked more sunken in than ever, vying for his attention, fooling around and playing riffs nearly twenty years old (“that’s how it goes, Gene, right, do you remember—‘My Uncle is a Raft,’ that’s the first song you ever—“) instead of laying down tracks.

It’s crap, Bruce. They don’t know it. They’re never gonna figure it out. That was what Eric had said, and maybe it was true, but maybe it wasn’t. And maybe he could do something, now that he’d seen past the last desperate bits of glamor Paul had left to offer.

Paul left before he did. Bruce watched him crank his car from where he stood outside the recording studio, the taillights glinting to life, and then the faint sound of the radio before he sped away. Mick Jagger blaring out “Just Another Night.”

Eric ducked out soon after, his ’79 Porsche like an artifact backing out of the parking lot. Gene’s chauffeur was already waiting, engine idling. Gene had the magazine under his arm. Bruce reached over on impulse, briefly grasping his forearm.

“Hey, Gene.”

“Bruce?” Gene looked up at him. “You need anything?”

“Could you do something for me?”

“You need a lift? You don’t have to ask—”

“I don’t need a lift.” His taxi had pulled up. He could picture the meter running, numbers spinning up like years, the inverse of the Billboard charts. “It’s not really for me, anyway. It’s for Paul.”

“What about him?”

“Be kinder to him. That’s all.”

Bruce expected Gene to protest. Give out the old lines he trotted out every interview, we’re like brothers and it’s like a marriage, tired and overplayed even five years ago. Instead, Gene hesitated.

“Bruce, you don’t understand.”

“No, but I’ve got a good idea.” The cab driver was looking at him, staring impatiently. Just a five-mile ride back to the hotel, a five-mile ride that’d take forty-five minutes, easy, this time of day. “You keep on hurting somebody and they’re never going to forget it. Whether this album’s a hit or not. Whether KISS ends up back in stadiums or back in ballrooms. That’s it. That’s all, Gene.”

He didn’t wait on an answer, just walked over to the cab. Gene clapped his shoulder on the way, and for a second, Bruce almost thought he’d say something, or follow him to the cab, something. But he just saw the brief shift of Gene’s expression the second before he shut the passenger door, the faint tightening of Gene’s mouth as he walked past the cab and to his own car, dropping the magazine to the pavement as he stepped inside. Bruce watched the car’s back wheels run it over, and then the cab’s, the pages fluttering on the pavement, nothing but vapid gloss against concrete.

#kiss the band #kiss fanfiction #paul stanley #bruce kulick #paul stanley x bruce kulick

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