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morganaspendragonss · 3 years ago

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dancing on the edge of something new

huge thanks to alice ( @reyeslonestar ) for letting me talk this through with her at midnight when it was causing me huge trouble 🥰

five dances in tk and carlos’s life

ao3 | 2.3k | @911fluffweek day 3: getting together // dancing

TK looks over when Carlos slides off the hood of the Camaro, his hand trailing after him until he’s forced to let go. Carlos is smiling almost shyly, shifting from one foot to the other, and TK can’t help but smile back, propping himself up on his elbows.

“Carlos?” he prompts, confusion growing as no explanation is forthcoming. “Everything okay?”

“Yeah, of course. I just, uh…” He bites his lip, then takes a decisive step forward and holds out a hand, cocking a brow suggestively. “Wanna dance?”

TK laughs. “Seriously?” he asks, but he’s already sitting up and placing his hand in Carlos’s, allowing him to pull him off the car and to his feet.

“Well”—Carlos shrugs, yanking TK close and smiling at the oof he makes when their chests collide—“it’s how we began, isn’t it? I figured, if we’re starting again, then it feels only right, no?”

TK stares, stuck dumb, unable to do anything but follow Carlos’s lead as his arms slip around his waist, guiding them into a gentle sway. He rests his own hands on Carlos’s chest, the realisation that he gets to do this now—gets to touch Carlos and be with him like this—hitting him all over again. To think he almost threw it all away… Well, none of that matters anymore. What matters is that they’re here, dancing in a field with no music save for the shuffle of their feet in the grass and the occasional bird or cricket, like a pair of lovesick idiots in a romcom.

And he’s never been happier.

He slides his hands up until his arms are resting loosely around Carlos’s shoulders, fingers playing with the stray curls at the nape of his neck. He stares into those familiar brown eyes, so full of warmth and light, Carlos cast in the beautiful glow of the Northern Lights above them, and TK feels an intense feeling take root in his chest. It’s not love—not yet—but it will be.

He can’t imagine not falling in love with Carlos Reyes.

ii.

The club lights strobe around them, bathing the room alternately in lurid colours and strange shadows. The place is packed, the doors practically straining on their hinges, but the only thing TK is aware of is Carlos’s body moving against his own, their movements perfectly in sync with each other.

It’s been a while since they were last about to do this, to come out and just let loose for the night. In fact, TK thinks the last time might have been when they were out with Paul what seems like a lifetime ago; so much has changed since, and TK feels like a completely different person to who he was back then.

He and Carlos have officially been together for a few months now, but it’s like the universe has been working to stop them from actually being able to enjoy it. They’ve managed to squeeze in some dates here and there, but between the shooting, the solar storm, TK’s medical leave, and weeks of opposing shifts, getting a moment to themselves has been difficult.

But now, finally, they have one. And TK is going to milk it for all it’s worth.

He turns slightly in Carlos’s grasp, his head tilting up to catch his lips in a searing kiss. Carlos grips TK’s hips tighter, pulling them flush against his own as he deepens the kiss, and TK gasps, a sharp thrill shooting down his spine.

The night stretches out blissfully in front of them, the knowledge that this isn’t just a fling that will end with the cold light of dawn making it all the sweeter. It’s still a little surreal, even now, but it also feels so damn right.

TK’s heart hammers in time with the music and he sinks into Carlos’s hold, losing himself in his heat.

iii.

It’s not that TK never felt at home at the condo. The opposite in fact; Carlos’s place had been home even before he could officially call it his, and he feels the loss of it keenly. The thing is, though, even after he’d fully moved in, it had been a struggle to think of it as theirs.

It had been home, sure, but it had also been Carlos’s place.

Carlos had found it a little funny, and it had taken several slip-ups on TK’s part and just as many gentle corrections on his for TK to get used to our dining room, and our bedroom, and our house.

And then—well. Just as he’d started to get used to it, it was all gone. Ashes. It hurt, deeply, but TK knew that it was his turn to be the one to lean on, to let Carlos be the one to set the pace. Carlos had lived there for years, after all, and what was TK’s month compared to that?

Really, anywhere that Carlos is would be home, but this—holding the keys to a house they’d picked out together, a house they’d signed the lease for together, a house they’d picked the furnishings for together—feels like coming home.

He hates that it was the condo burning down that got them to this stage, but TK can’t stop a grin from emerging on his face as he slips his key into the lock.

He finds Carlos in the kitchen, humming and shimmying to a song playing from the speakers. To his credit, TK really does try to bite back his laughter, but he can’t quite manage it, letting out a loud snort which has Carlos stopping in his tracks, flushing a deep red.

“I see the unpacking’s going well,” he says, walking over to the kitchen counter and leaning a hip against it.

“It was, actually,” Carlos defends, still blushing. “I didn’t realise you’d be back this soon.”

TK shakes his head; as adorable as Carlos’s embarrassment is, he needs to let him know he’s not making fun. “You can relax, babe. You know I always love seeing you move those hips.”

“Mmm, don’t I know it.” Carlos leans in and kisses him, lingering a moment before pulling back, a wide smirk on his face. “How about you help me finish unpacking here and we’ll see about showing you more of that hip action later?”

TK grumbles, but does as he’s told, the two of them falling into a comfortable rhythm as they work to getting their house in order. It’s ended up being the perfect blend of their different styles, which probably shouldn’t work together, but somehow do, and TK loves it here. They both do, he knows—nothing will ever replace what they lost in the fire, but being able to build a home together is beyond special.

He keeps sneaking glances at Carlos as the afternoon goes on—sue him, his boyfriend is built like a Greek god—and TK smiles when he realises Carlos has started dancing again. He probably doesn’t even realise he’s doing it, which makes the whole thing so much better.

TK watches for a while, then walks up to Carlos and taps him on the shoulder. “Mind if I cut in?” he asks, gesturing to the wooden spoons he was twirling around.

There’s a brief moment of confusion, before Carlos’s eyes light up with realisation. He barely wastes a second in tossing the spoons aside (though, it’s more like a careful placement in the correct drawer) and grabs TK by the hand, sending him into a literal spin.

TK laughs, taking a moment to right himself after the sudden movement caused him to stumble inelegantly. Neither of them are in time with the music as they dance around the kitchen, carefully avoiding the boxes still scattered around, but it’s not important.

For the first time in his life, TK feels fully, completely at home. It’s not a feeling he wants to let go of.

iv.

“I think they were expecting something slower,” TK murmurs, burying a laugh in Carlos’s neck. Their guests are all wearing expressions with varying degrees of shock, and he can’t really blame them—he’s pretty sure the last thing anyone expects to hear during a first dance at a wedding is a country song. “I still can’t believe you even remember it.”

Carlos shrugs. “I still can’t believe you don’t. It is our song, after all.”

TK rolls his eyes, remembering their first conversation on this topic months ago, back when they were still sorting out all the wedding minutiae.

“‘Our’ song, babe?” he’d said, raising a skeptical eyebrow. “Why, because we danced to it for five minutes before leaving to get off in the bathroom?”

“Exactly,” Carlos had replied, his tone so serious that TK wasn’t sure whether he was joking or not. He’d rolled his eyes and lightly shoved at TK’s shoulder. “No, babe. Because it was the first time we danced together on the night that we met. That’s special, right, even if it did only last five minutes?”

TK hadn’t exactly been able to argue that one, and he has to admit now that it was a pretty good choice. If only to see the way Judd almost choked on his champagne in surprise when the song started.

It’s a little untraditional and, if he’s being honest, TK had never thought that one day he would be getting married in Texas on his new husband’s family ranch, with their first dance being to a ‘cowboy song’, as he’d once called it, much to Carlos’s horror. But he and Carlos have never been ones for tradition, and TK wouldn’t have it any other way.

“It’s perfect,” he admits, his eyes never leaving Carlos’s. He stops the dance, not caring that the song is still playing, and steps closer, pressing their bodies together. Everything else fades into the background as he leans up and kisses Carlos, barely moving when they break apart. “I love you, Husband.”

Carlos’s face lights up in a grin that could rival the sun in its brightness. “I love you too, Husband.”

Music is floating through the door when TK gets home, and it’s enough to alleviate the weight he’s been carrying all day. It’s not that it had been a bad shift per se (though, when your standards for a good day are ‘nobody dies’, your view tends to get a bit skewed) but it had been long and tiring, and he’d missed his family desperately.

Sometimes, he still can’t believe this is really his life. But Ana, now three, has been living with them for a year already, and TK can’t imagine their home without her anymore. She’d been a blessing, coming into their lives after years of fighting to get on adoption registers, right when they were beginning to despair of ever managing it.

They did, though, and now TK gets to come home to scenes like this.

Scenes like Ana standing on Carlos’s toes as he guides her slowly around the room in a basic dance. TK watches for a moment before getting his phone out and hitting record; he’ll be damned if he misses the opportunity to get this on film.

Carlos, having heard him enter, rolls his eyes when he sees what TK’s doing, but flashes him a quick smile before returning his focus to Ana. She hasn’t noticed TK’s entrance, her face scrunched up in deep concentration as she grips onto Carlos’s hands as tight as she possibly can.

When the music ends, Ana claps her hands and giggles. TK takes the moment to make his presence known, dropping to his knees and holding his arms out. She barrels into him, almost knocking him over, and presses her face into his chest, her tiny hands creating creases in his uniform shirt.

“Hi, sweetheart,” TK murmurs, dropping a kiss in her hair. He gently detaches her from him and manoeuvers them until she’s sitting in his lap. “Looks like you guys were having fun while I was at work.”

She nods enthusiastically. “Papa was teaching me to dance! Abuela showed me photos when I was with her and Abuelo and I wanted to be just like her!”

“Abuela got out the photo albums again, huh?”

Ana nods again. “Of her… Her…” She frowns and looks up at Carlos.

“Her china poblana dresses,” Carlos says softly, smiling as Ana grins and points at him.

TK laughs and draws his daughter into a hug, rocking them gently, his gaze going up to Carlos. “Well, from what I saw, you were dancing even better than Papa,” he says, smirking as Carlos gasps in mock offence. He looks back down at Ana, tapping on the back of her hand. “You know,” he starts, smiling, “I think I might need some dancing lessons too. Think you can teach me?”

Ana lights up and immediately gets to her feet, as if she’d been waiting for him to ask. She grabs TK’s hand and pulls him up, leading him to where Carlos must have cleared a space for them earlier. The music begins to play again and TK lets his daughter take charge, playfully sticking his tongue out at Carlos when he laughs at TK getting firmly told off for putting his foot in the wrong place.

At some point, Carlos joins the dance, the three of them stepping and bouncing around the front room. Ana’s laughter fills the house, shrieking with delight when Carlos sweeps her from the floor and wraps both her and TK in his arms. TK leans his head on his husband’s shoulder, a hand placed on their daughter’s back, and breathes out slowly, all the exhaustion from earlier forgotten.

At last, he’s home.

#911fluffweek #911 lone star #911 lone star fic #tarlos #tarlos fic #tk strand #carlos reyes #lone star #911ls #fanfiction #my fanfiction #writing #my writing #userjillian #tuserjamie #userkimmy #tuserpaige #reyeslonestartag #tuserjenny

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creativeashproductions · 4 years ago

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Songbird Shenanigans // Charlie Gillespie

IN WHICH: The reader will routinely sneak away from her band/hotel to continue her tour shenanigans in parking garages. A way for the young star to return to the stupid years where the concert venue was a car and the mic was the steering wheel. As each city comes and goes with the tour, one thing never changes, driving to parking garages to scream songs at the top of your lungs.

Warnings: Swearing, Mamma Mia songs (oops), and fluff

Words: 4.0k (with lyrics included)

A/N: There’s something endearing about Charlie randomly going a stranger in a duet and dance without a care. This was loosely inspired by the chaotic live they did when Jeremy and Charlie stayed at Owen’s place. I loved Charlie’s tropical shirt giving Animal Crossing vibes.

TO BE TAGGED SEND AN INBOX/ASK PLEASE!

Masterlist

A moment you had desired for a while finally came around in Oklahoma City during the free day between the two concerts. The pure quiet away from the interviews, photoshoots and demanding life of a musician. Yet despite wanting this time, you definitely felt bored, which only meant one thing.

A new video for your followers as you had done since the beginning of your successful career. Back before, you had the prominent following you had; now you would travel singing in your car, and then one video got viral. That elevated your following until you had signed a record deal with your brand new agent.

A series was then born of driving at night to the parking lots and garages in the city you temporarily visited. You'd park and sing any suggested songs from a previous video for an hour to see if a fan could find you. It was a fun game you had developed.

Y/N Y/L/N: Another installment of Songbird Shenanigans. From 9pm to 10:30pm, I'll be somewhere in Oklahoma City. Come find me for the prize!

Your agent both hated and loved the series as it brought attention to your career and songs but also was a hazard during the tour. The risk of losing your voice made your agent nervous, but the positives outweigh the negatives.

"What song are you doing?" Maddie asked from her chair in your hotel suite with a ratty book in her hand. Her rich dark hair pulled up in a high bun with a few pieces of bangs pulled down to hang free.

You didn't know if you could do what you do if you didn't have Maddie by your side as your singing partner and chief stylist. Maddie also always knew without looking on social media when you had a new installment coming.

"My most requested video is Train Wreck by-"

"James Arthur." Maddie snickered with her grey eyes pinned to the page she was reading faithfully. The book had seen better days, but it was her absolute favourite one by far and one of the only physical books she had.

"Somehow forgot you had it on repeat for a week straight." You snorted, shoving a hat on your head for warmth. A plain black coat pulled over your arms that matched the warm boots you had chosen, "I'll send you my location."

Maddie waved on hand in response, having known the routine since you first started this fun series. It allowed you a bit of your old life when the concerts you performed was solely in your car with the steering wheel as the microphone.

Judy, your agent, was sitting in the lobby with her binder surrounding her when she looked with a sigh. Without a word, she tossed the keys to the rented car she knew you'd need, so in each city, she rented one. A smile of gratitude shared before you were out the door with your hood up.

"Be careful!" Judy exclaimed just as the sliding doors closed behind you, sending you out in the cold night.

Almost instantly, your cheeks turned a light pink in the cold winter air, even if the walk to the war was short. As requested, the car was a newer model but one that would blend in with other city cars. It made finding you harder, but the windows couldn't be tinted.

"Here's to hoping I get a place with good acoustics." You muttered, starting the hatchback vehicle. Despite the cold winter weather, the road conditions were surprisingly okay, but then again, you were from a small town. Roads were shit in general.

You didn't bother playing music as you used the drive to find a parking garage and warm up your throat. Your vocal coach would have your head if you didn't warm-up, and then Judy would kill you even more.

You lucked out in a parking garage to a building that seemed to be a renovated warehouse with insanely cool windows. The metal was a dark shamrock green with a multitude of small rectangular glass between the metal. The panes swung open upwards in a fascinating design.

"Perfect." You muttered, signalling to turn into the parking garage that was easily accessed and without any trespassing signs. It was desolate, with cars parked here and there in the stalls.

A bright orange Subaru definitely took the cake as the most 'flashy' vehicle among the more nondescript ones. Not that it caught your attention when you lowered your windows marginally while simultaneously clipping the phone onto the dash. Immediately you double-checked for any apparent signs to your location before declaring it safe; with a tap of your finger, your Instagram live began.

"Welcome to another part of our Songbird Shenanigans. This time I'm in Oklahoma City for a two-day concert. The most requested song is Train Wreck by James Arthur."

Laying in the silence

Waiting for the sirens

Signs, any signs I'm alive still

I don't wanna lose it

I'm not getting through this

Hey, should I pray? should I pray

A natural instinct of closing your eyes as you got more into the music occurred. Your voice belted into the garage beautifully. Tons of comments appeared in the insta live chat of both supportive and haters.

username3: I suggested this song!!!

username88: Your voice goes perfectly with the song.

The song came to an end quicker than you would have liked since it was definitely one of your favourites to sing.

Unchain the reactions, I'm not ready to die, not yet

Pull me out of the train wreck

Pull me out, pull me out, pull me out

No action was helped back from taking a swig of water from the reusable bottle you had brought along. Your eyes scoured the comments for more suggestions or things that stuck out.

"Why don't you include hints in the Songbirds?” You read out from the comment section with a smile barely held back, "Why would I? You all know that my windows are often down, and even the most unoriginal locations have tells. There's been a few people that have found me."

Username13: I think I know where you are (insert heart emoji)

↳Username63: username13 where?! How do you know?

↳Username13: jatp is streaming all day and the guys are in a car. Same background

Your eyes read the short but interesting conversation between the two different accounts on something called jatp? Whatever that was.

"Any other requests?" You asked, scrolling through the suggestions, "Sing something from jatp? I'm sorry, guys, but I have no clue what that is? Is it a movie? OH! It's a show. My bad."

The comment section was flooded, "Okay! Let me look up the lyrics and the melody!"

Three males: a blonde and two brunettes, walked between the rows of both occupied and unoccupied parking spots. The blonde wearing a black t-shirt with BEANS written across the chest and the brunette with short slicked-back hair crowded the middle guy. All three pairs of eyes watched the iPhone stream the television series.

"I call shotgun!" Owen spoke as the car in question came into view, "We gotta Livestream in the car again!"

"Your neighbour sucks, man." Charlie groaned, nudging Jeremy to unlock the car when the older man hesitated.

"If we're going live in the car, we should cover your license plate," Jeremy suggested to a resounding agreement.

Charlie drove an obscenely vibrant coloured car that could be picked out quickly, so he didn't need any help in broadcasting his location. Owen grabbed the book from the passenger seat to angle it to lean against the plate.

"Done!" Owen called, racing back to climb into the car with his friends. The blonde-haired man bounced in his seat as the owner of the vehicle set up the screen.

In seconds, the streaming went from the app on the phone to the car's built-in screen to the boys' delight. In a moment of what some may call brilliance and others stupidity Owen went live on Instagram with Charlie joining him swiftly.

"Do you rem-"

Username76: Songbird chose a shitty location.

↳Username 39: Or we just got a Hail Mary hint

"Who is Songbird?" Charlie questioned, leaning closer to his friends in the front, catching a few comments.

The comments were mixed among other unrelated ones, but all had Songbird, Shenanigans or both words. The mystery was so intriguing the boys turned down the show to scour the comments for tidbits.

"Wait? Do you hear that?" Jeremy questioned, scanning the parking garage with his blue, green eyes. Soon his head was sticking out the window, "Someone is singing here."

Jeremy's hand turned the key of the car, "Is that-"

"Oh, no." Owen groaned, seeing that specific light appear in Charlie's eyes just as it did each time one of the songs came on. His pink beanie slid around his long blonde locks.

The two guys watched as the second oldest in their group did some kind of shimmy after pushing his phone to Jeremy. Jeremy's hand scrambled to get a grip on the phone as Charlie delved into his love for these songs. Sharing a look, Jeremy and Owen followed the Canadian to a car with a girl singing in the open hatchback car.

(Italics is you! Italics and bold is Charlie and you! Just bold is Charlie!)

When you were lonely, you needed a man.

Someone to lean on, well I understand

It's only natural

But why did it have to be me?

Your eyes remained shut as you neared the middle of the first verse. You completely stopped when a voice joined. Your e/c eyes met the twinkling brown of a handsome guy with the best voice you'd heard in a long time.

Nights can be empty, and nights can be cold

So you were looking for someone to hold

That's only natural

But why did it have to be me?

Your lips parted in a grin as you grabbed the hand being offered to be pulled out of the car; on your way, your hand nudged your phone. Your phone was in a mount attached to the roof of the hatch. When you followed the stranger, the phone turned in perfect view. Your free hand turned to hover over your forehead, legs bending to feign a swoon.

I was so lonesome, I was blue

I couldn't help it, it had to be you and I

Always thought you knew the reason why

Charlie beamed playing being shot by the arrow you pretended to shoot with a grin planted on your own lips. Charlie's hand flirted with your hip as you sashayed around his body from his left to his right. Hand grabbing a first full of his white with light teal with light pink design to tug him chest to chest.

I only wanted a little love affair

Now I can see you are beginning to care

But baby, believe me

It's better to forget me

In turn, Charlie grabbed your wrist to twirl you into his arms straight into an impressive dip with the toe of your shoe pointed to the far wall. Your fingers just barely caressing the rough paved lot.

"I'm Charlie," Charlie murmured during the instrumental between the chorus and the second verse. Your eyes scanned his features with an expression you would later be glad was hidden from the lighting in the garage.

"Y/N." You breathed, clutching his shoulders still low in the dip, hoping subconsciously that your breath was still fresh.

"Wanna finish this?" Charlie spoke, searching your eyes with his own; up close, you could see his eyes were a mixture of colours. You only nodded before he continued singing to the music.

Men are the toys in the game that you play

When you get tired, you throw them away

That's only natural

But why did it have to be me?

"Are you seeing this?" Jeremy whispered to Owen as they watched Charlie literally sweep a stranger off her feet. Owen could only nod as Charlie went into the next verse, still dancing as if he was in Mamma Mia 2.

Falling in love with a woman like you

Happens so quickly, there's nothing to do

It's only natural

But why did it have to be me?

Charlie spun you back away from his body in a graceful twirl your choreographer would be incredibly proud of. The moves you made somehow made sense, with the movements matching the spontaneous duet-er.

I was so lonesome, I was blue

I couldn't help it, it had to be you and I

Always thought you knew the reason why

Once more in his arms dancing, he dipped you once more as you finished the end of the last chorus breathing heavily. The two strangers staring intensely into each other's eyes with an intense look that had tensions in the parking garage.

I only wanted a little love affair

Now I can see you are beginning to care

But baby, believe me

It's better to forget me

"Intense." Owen chuckled as Charlie raised you back onto your feet with a matching grin to yours, "Oh! Look at the comments!"

Username24: Holy shit! They ooze chemistry!!

↳Username9: lol, okay Alex.

"You aren't a viewer, are you?" You breathlessly laughed, taking a step away from Charlie as the music faded away.

The equally breathless spontaneous performing partner laughed as well, "I heard the song and hoped for the best."

"Are you Songbird?" Came a voice from a few feet away. Behind the once upon a time stranger stood two males approaching slowly.

"Oh!" You gasped, turning on your heel to see where your phone was pointing, "Well, that's convenient! One moment."

Jeremy and Owen flanked Charlie as you repositioned the phone at the moment with practised precision. You kept the three people out of the shot for privacy reasons.

"There is about ten minutes away from the end of this installment being over. For the first time since we started this series, I had a duet." You playfully laughed, looking over at the trio, "It's completely up to my sudden partner, but would you like to meet your audience?"

Charlie simply shrugged, "Sure. They've seen you be serenaded by a stranger."

A short laugh came from the three individuals around Charlie as he moved into the camera frame with a large smile. As soon as he was in sight, the comment section went nuts, furthering when Owen and Jeremy came into view.

Username1: DREAM COME TRUE

↳Username4: omg jatp in Songbird Shenanigans?? Life accomplished.

You couldn't hold back the snort at the comments you could read quickly as they disappeared after new ones. The three guys couldn't help but chuckle as well.

"I've never seen these guys before. If you could introduce yourselves." You asked the three guests, to which each sent a reassuring smile to your hesitance.

"I'm Charlie Gillespie, and these are my friends Owen Joyner and Jeremy Shada." Charlie took the liberty of introducing both his friends and himself. His heart fluttered at the adorable smile that had appeared on your pretty face.

"I'm afraid this concludes this edition of Songbird." You apologized to the camera as the time passed the allotted hour and a half. The comments turned sad before most of them started sending questions, "I'll let you know when I do another edition! Bye for now!"

Your finger clicked the end button firstly before clicking the save button for when you would upload it to your account later.

"Thank you for doing that. I'm Y/N." You chuckled, shaking hands with Jeremy and Owen, who each grinned back, "So what brought you guys to the parking garage with three phones and a live-action Animal Crossing shirt?"

Amusement was found on all four young adults in the parking garage, pinning a gaze at the material. You had to admit you kinda adored the shirt, or maybe the person wearing it was the reason.

"We're trying to get Julie and the Phantoms to number one again." Owen offered as he displayed the live still going on his phone.

"That's a tv series. That was the second song I did on the live before Charlie joined the little concert." You told the boys all the while aware that thousands of people watched from the phone still streaming.

"The phone's about to die." Owen piped up, catching the single decimal number broadcasting the percentage. Without any prompting, he ended the live to save it solely for the little performance Charlie did.

"Did you save it?" Jeremy asked, lifting on his tiptoes to check the phone Owen had commanded for the last half hour. Like Owen, Jeremy wanted to save it solely for the stellar performance.

"So, how'd this series start?" Charlie questioned, pushing his hands into his pockets, ignoring the subtle glances of his best friend.

"I needed an escape from touring so many cities. It's reminiscent of the days before I was discovered. When my audience was the dials in my car and my family." You half-smiled, recalling all the times you had simply driven around to sing.

"You're a musician?"

"I am. I'm currently on tour for my second album. Every second or third city I'm performing in, I take the rented car to parking lots or garages to sing. I always have a prize for the fans that find me."

"Could I get your number?" Charlie hesitantly questioned. His features twisting with the manipulation of nerves.

His palms had gone clammy enough to inconspicuously wipe them on his legs; this version of Charlie was unfamiliar. Owen and Jeremy had only ever seen him as this bundle of joy and energy, not to say he didn't have his low days, instead of nervous. Owen slipped his fingers behind his back to cross them. He hoped his Canadian friend would get it.

"You don't leak mine, and I won't leak yours." Your e/c eyes twinkled with the brush of Charlie's warm fingers on your own. The new contact waiting for his information, "Maybe we can meet up with each other?"

"I'd love that."

Madison Square Garden, New York City, New York, Unspecified Date

The sounds of screams and heavy instruments blocked by the unique in-ears explicitly made for your ears alone. You'd heaved, catching a breath after such an energetic song you'd just performed for the sold-out venue. You just jogged to the side for a chug of water as your band switched instruments.

"Are you having fun tonight!" You asked the crowd who had fought tooth and nail for tickets. The crowd screamed back louder than before.

Selling out MSG for completely insane even after touring the country with your band three times. It was still a little jarring, going from a nobody with untapped potential to selling out concerts and very successful albums, in all honesty.

"That's what I like to hear!" You beamed, pushing a strand of your unruly hair away from your face. Your eyes momentarily cast to the side stage with the equipment hiding the crew, "I have a surprise for you. A couple years ago, I had a spontaneous duet partner during one of Songbird Shenanigans. I'd like to invite my fiance Charlie out here."

The crowd went nuts as Charlie wandered towards you from the side of the stage away from Owen, Jeremy and Madison. Charlie's hazel eyes scoured the oceans of your e/c eyes he got to wake up to each morning. Mostly when Julie and the Phantoms had been offered to open for you; to be frank, it was more of an unspoken co-headlining.

"Can we tell?" You asked, keeping the mic covered and away from your body. Your body bounced, waiting for the smile from him.

Charlie nodded, accepting the guitar from one of the crew members. It was a song you had written a few months back. Charlie had memorized the entire piece with the deep adoration he felt for it.

The couple perched on the bar stools brought to the middle of the stage with a secret smile. One that only they and their immediate family understood.

Three months ago, you had sat Charlie down in your home to play him a little song that changed everything.

Charlie placed the last bag of groceries on the counter when he felt arms wrap around his midsection. He immediately knew that it was you welcoming him home from a very short trip to the store. In a swift move, he had manoeuvred you to sit on the counter while he scooched himself between your legs.

"Hi." Charlie breathed, rising to press a kiss against the smooth skin of your cheek, leaving heat in its wake.

"I want your opinion on a song." You burst out, unable to refrain from showing him a song you had been secretly working on. The French Canadian was beyond intrigued by the sudden announcement from his fiance.

"Oh?"

"Come." You coaxed the man from the kitchen to the designated music room filled with instruments of all kinds—even a recent addition of a recording booth in the corner with high-end equipment.

You bypassed everything for the grand piano you didn't play as often as you wished to be able to. Your fingers brushed the ivory keys for a mere second before you began playing the melody.

I, I have known love before

I thought it would no more

Take on a new direction

Still, strange as it seems to be

It's truly new to me

That affection

The smile that grew across Charlie's expressive face was uncapturable from the best of the best; he adored your voice. He had a personal ringtone you had explicitly done for him a few months into the relationship.

I, I don't know what you do

You make me think that you

Will change my life forever

I, I'll always want you near

Give up on you, my dear

I will never

You thrill me, you delight me

You please me, you excite me

You're all that

I've been yearning for

I love you, I adore you

I lay my life before you

I only want you more and more

And finally it seems

My lonely days are through

I've been waiting for you

Charlie's frown, however, faltered as your face ever so slightly paled with trepidation coating your pretty irises. Your voice even quivered with nerves he'd never heard before, but it made sense from the third verse started.

I'll carry you all the way

And you will choose the day

When you're prepared to greet me

I'll be a good mum, I swear

You'll see how much I care

When you meet me

You finished the song with the last note drawn out ever so softly, freezing as the room went quiet once more. This song was definitely vulnerable and personal; you felt naked under Charlie's silent stare.

"You're really?" Charlie breathlessly chuckled, his wide eyes screaming disbelief.

After a few years together with an engagement ring on both of your fingers after you had both proposed to each other, with the relationship very serious, you two had decided to stop contraceptives and let everyone happen if it was too happen.

"Yeah." You laughed as he swept you off the bench into his arms, "We have little Birdie to prepare for."

"I love you so damn much." Charlie choked out, spinning the two of you around in his arms. The smile never fading as he drank in the special moment of learning you had created a life together.

PRESENT

"With the impending arrival of our child, I will be taking a break to prepare. Even though I wouldn't be performing, I will still do Songbird Shenanigans. I'll just have to up my game on staying as hidden as possible." You informed the audience as the song came to an end.

Next thing you knew, you couldn't discern between the crowd and your friends now on stage screaming. You were able to feel Charlie's hand on your barely-there baby bump and his lips pressed against your temple.

Tag List (PLEASE SEND AN INBOX TO BE ADDED! I CANNOT GUARANTEE YOU WILL BE ON THE LIST VIA POST COMMENTS!)

@safehavenmuse @siennanoelle01 @whiterose291 @mell-bell @blackhood5sos @ficrecsideblog @ifilwtmfc @deadpoolgirl23 @crappy-unicorn @sunsetcurve-h @elioelioeli0 @lovesanimals @popcrone818 @lolychu @deepsleepnat @tenaciousperfectionunknown @aunicornmademedoit @just-a-writer-here @simp4reggie @faithiebrock01 @overlyhypedup @differentsoulrascalsalad @aesthetic-lyss @versaceapa @carleywhittaker @lostgirl219 @itsalexx21 @elllaoo4 @merxxleighann @mediocremunge @fantomlovesjuke4ever @dpaccione @oswin05 @kaylinfayezink @aberette13 @faithie-brock-gillespie01 @eharvey0218 @overlyhypedup @benstormy @auriandthepussicats @sarcasticsagittarius1998 @whothefuckstolemykeds @siriuswvrld @princessvader15 @xoxbloodreinaxox @heimdoodle @joshy-obx @lovesanimals @oopsiedoopsie23 @am3l1a-24 @flying-solo-without-you @jaskiers-sweetkiss @lostrandomfangirln @must-be-a-weasley-92 @jatp-holland @ilikealotofpeople-younotsomuch @dxlanhxlland @dasexydevitt13 @ifilwtmfc @arianagrandes-things @kinda-really-lost @marinettepotterandplagg @ssprayberrythings @morgandamrose @thedarkqueenofavalon @zukoshonourr @crybabyddl @spooky-season-bitch @kcd15 @morganayennefertyrell @magnet-girl @all-in-fangirl @kinda-really-lost @tenaciousperfectionunknown @badwolf00593 @blowakissbabe @talksoprettyjjx @thesweetestsinner @kaitieskidmore1 @writerinlearning @aiofheavenandhell @sageellsworth05 @link-102 @thesweetestsinner @merceret @imsydneywalker @sunsetcurvej @nicoledawson5604 @merceret @kexrtiz @biqherosix @lukewearingbeanies @dangersolns @soverignparker

#charlie gillespie imagines #charlie gillespie fanfiction #charlie gillespie x reader #jatp fanfic #luke patterson imagines #charlie gillespie #luke patterson #charlie gillespie imagine #caitsy and ash productions

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kireiwoo · 3 years ago

Text

[4:01pm] # kang yeosang.

“i spy something... blue!” you scoff at yeosang’s clue, aggressively motioning with your vacant hand to the scenery surrounding you. he’s laid beside you on a colourful plastic pool chair on the boardwalk, entertained by the amusing affairs happening by the crystal blue waters. you take a brief swig from your non-alcoholic, lime-infused champagne, relishing the fizz of the dried cranberries that bubble from the bottom of the flute. the drink was surprisingly cheap for such a well-made concoction; but then again, the bartender was relatively flirty anyways. yeosang clears his throat; “listen y/n, the hints i can give you are literally limited to your colour coordination.”

he gulps down the remainder of his pinkish shirley temple, tossing the lemon garnish in the now-melted ice pool. “it’s just that it’s the middle of summer and we’re at a beach,” you inform. he mocks you with his adorable lisp, frowning after you glare at him while sucking your bottom lip between rows of white. “you’d think that there’s a lot of blue things around.” you finish, but your conditioning is a farce, because yeosang simply takes out his phone and scrolls through his social media boredly, seemingly waiting for you to begin listing things that’re blue.

“fine. is it the beach? the sky? is it that little kid’s swimming gear? what about the ice cream parlor down the street?” you make a point to emphasize the sheer amount of things that his object could feasibly be. his eyebrows perk, dark brown hair falling into his eyes like warm chocolate as they blend with his light amber irises. he perches a hand under the curve of his chin, nodding interestedly for you to continue, but when you simply stare blankly, his expression slackens into one of pure boredom.

“it’s none of those things but i appreciate your effort,” he says, smiling gently, “but the blue thing is your mood! why are you so... cranky?” a pout etches it’s way onto your face as you gaze longingly towards the clear water, a look of desire simmering in your face. you aren’t offended by his conjecture, and in fact, you found it quite thoughtful that he paid attention to the cues of your attitude. yeosang switches his eyes from your glum mannered countenance to the location of which you were staring; the ocean. unfortunately, his innocent obliviousness impeded him from discovering the cause of your distress, but he had some semblance of an idea as to why.

“is there someone you miss...?” you snort at his assumption, arduously denying it. he blushes and nods, clearing his throat and musing about what it could be. you wanted to swim! the entire reason you decided on a beach for your day off was to swim, not stay seated at some scratched up recliner with snobby drinks and games from your childhood—all you wanted was to splash in the water with yeosang, enjoying the freedom and the coolness of the liquid against your waist and skin. tired of his incorrect guessing, you tell yeosang about your inhibitions, watching his face contort into confusion before blatant understanding.

“why didn’t you just say so?” he asks, laughing while you peek intrusively at his unconcerned posture. you stopped yourself from immediately padding straight into the water when you’d initially arrived because you didn’t want to embarrass or annoy yeosang, seeing as his disposition is influenced and shaped by how many obstacles he has to overcome, but this whole time he was completely fine with it?

“that creepy bartender’s been staring at you ever since we sat down—i was gonna ask you to swim after we finished our drinks; didn’t wanna waste them.” you blanch at his words and struggle with not swivelling to confront the supposed assailant, but yeosang’s calm demeanour ultimately lets you know that he has this under control. quickly chugging the rest of your drink, you shiver at the burn of the minuscule sparkling pint, shaking your shoulders before sitting up in readiness.

yeosang giggles at your elation, setting his own cup on the tropical fruit-tray used for when occupants were done with their drinks. he loves seeing your unconcealed delirium, thriving off the adrenaline of the moment—as someone considerably calm, he loves the dynamic of lazy unconcern and optimum restlessness; it adds a touch of authenticity into your relationship. cracking his fists and standing to stretch, yeosang smirks as you follow in tandem, jumping on your feet childishly as if eagerly desirious to swim, and with a competitive lip-bite and dopamine flooding through his head, he utters a sentence that kickstarts the fun of today.

“last one to the beach is a rotten egg!” and with that he takes off, leaving you to stalk behind him in almost shocking synchronization. earlier you were playing a pleasantly tedious game of i-spy with your adoring, sarcastically goading boyfriend, hoping arduously and desperately for some sort of respite to the game. your insides twisted with each second spent sitting on the uncomfortably hot and scratchy pool chair, the drink in your hand pruning your mood into a ball of concealed disappointment. but kang yeosang understood your qualms with a simple, nondescript complaint. he didn’t fiddle with your muddled mindset, nor tease you ruthlessly for wanting something so comprehensively juvenile. instead, he ran to the blue waters with you, hoping to ignite some of the childish naivety in his tryst; but the only petulant innocence found was in your puppy-love for him, hopelessly enamoured by this awfully sardonic, gorgeous and kind man.

the same one you were about to beat to the beach.

#ateez smut #ateez angst #ateez fluff #ateez scenarios #ateez x reader #ateez timestamp #ateez crack #ateez oneshot #80’s!#yeosang fluff #yeosang angst #yeosang smut #yeosang oneshot #yeosang scenarios #yeosang blurb #yeosang drabble #kys : yeoyeo.#@ficscafe

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one-boring-person · 4 years ago

Note

Dumb request but. Uncle Bob gets jealous bc someone hits on thee reader. (It's a funny idea tbh. Also change your name. you're not boring!! you're absolutely awesome!!)

Hehe, thanks for the compliment!😂💛 I loved this idea, so I hope you like this!😊❤💛

Total Strangers.

T-800/Uncle Bob x reader

Warnings: some bad language, some light sexual implications

Masterlist

The terminator goes stiff almost as soon as we enter the store, the unusual behaviour making me lift an eyebrow at him, looking over his perfect posture in curiosity. His imposing frame easily stands out amongst the other shoppers around us, but his new discomfort puts me on edge, aware of his ability to determine and assess threats before I even know they're a problem. With this in mind, I place a hand on the cyborg's arm, looking up into his face in confusion.

"Everything alright?" I ask him, meeting his emotionless stare as he turns it on me.

"Yes." He replies bluntly, still not having quite grasped the balance between using relative information and speaking as briefly as is necessary.

"You sure? You're very tense." I probe, heading further into the shop with him, going to the section I need.

"I am positive." The terminator responds, following me, his eyes scanning the aisles as we move, the careful turn of his head still not quite natural yet, still a little automated.

"If you say so." I roll my eyes at his answers, choosing to ignore his obvious tenseness and start rifling through the racks of clothes, needing to find something to replace a couple of my old shirts.

"I did." Uncle Bob intones, standing over me, his large build hovering over me like a worried mother might fuss over her child.

It's not long before I get fed up with his presence so close to me, the terminator watching my every move, the precision in his gaze making me antsy. He shadows me around, staring at the people around us until they hastily walk away, his unnerving glare usually quite welcoming, though today it is just irritating me. After ten minutes or so, I turn to him, a small scowl etched into my face.

"Can you drop the hostile act? There's no need for it." I tell him, looking him in the eye.

"I am not sure what you mean." The T-800 frowns, cocking his head, a habit he picked up from me a few weeks ago. Usually, I find it flattering, cute, almost. But now it annoys me.

"I mean you need to stop acting like my bodyguard. It's totally safe here! You don't need to scare people off when they come within five metres of us." I clarify, gesturing to the area around us.

"Why? There is a possibility they may pose a threat to you. It is my objective to keep you safe." Bob recites, face going blank again.

Sighing in exasperation, I briefly close my eyes, pinching the bridge of my nose frustratedly.

"There isn't any threat, Bob. We're fine, ok?" I try to reassure him, "Just back off a bit, yeah?"

Frowning again, the cyborg nods and steps back, standing by a display of mannequins, his body going still, almost as if trying to blend in with them. Letting out a breath, I turn back to the racks and continue browsing the items there, picking out a shirt and inspecting it, my head cocked to the side, a frown playing at my expression as I consider it.

"Not your colour." A voice behind me suddenly speaks up.

Frowning properly now, I turn to face the newcomer, lowering the shirt as I give them a once-over, checking for any danger they may pose. Finding none, I relax slightly as the red-head smiles at me, showing me he means no harm, his blue eyes straying over my form with no particular subtlety.

"Oh? And what makes you say that?" I reply guardedly, my body moving to face him properly.

The guy shrugs, grinning at me.

"I don't think it will work with your hair, that's all." He tells me, coming to stand beside me, picking out another shirt from the rack, "This, on the other hand…"

Eyeing the garment, I lift an eyebrow as I realise he is right, though I'm far too stubborn to admit it, so I simply place the original shirt back and start moving away.

"Aw, come on! Please don't be like that! I'm only trying to help." The guy follows after me, dropping the shirt and catching up to me.

"I don't take clothing advice from total strangers." I inform him, trying to ignore him as I flick through some more clothes, jackets this time.

"Ah, well in that case, I'm Caleb." The guy offers his hand to me, still smiling, a glint of mischief in his eye.

Glancing at him, I don't react, waiting for him to drop his hand. After a moment, he does, only to instantly pick something off the rack.

"This looks like it would suit you. Wanna try it on?" He looks me over again, holding out the jacket to me.

"Not really."

"Aw, why not?" Caleb pouts, shoulders slumping slightly.

"I told you, I don't take clothing advice from total strangers." I try not to roll my eyes, picking out a different jacket entirely.

"Hey, you know my name. I'm not a total stranger." The smirk is back on his face as he says this.

"You have known her for exactly four minutes and forty-eight seconds. You are a stranger to her." A familiar voice interrupts us, the monotone sounding words muchly appreciated now.

Holding back a smile of relief, I feel my eyes flick up over Caleb's shoulder to meet the hard blue ones staring at the guy's head. The terminator stands over us, his imposing body easily dwarfing both of us, his expression blank, though his jaw looks oddly clenched, something I've never seen him do. Caleb turns to face the cyborg, his expression falling.

"Who the hell are you?!" He bites out, the words flat as he eyes over the much larger newcomer.

"That is not relevant information for me to disclose." Bob replies evenly, staring the guy down, "Now leave. You are not wanted here."

"Fuck no, I got here first. Wait your turn, asshole." Caleb snaps at him, though his tone is a little shaky.

"You are not needed here. Leave." The cyborg intones, disregarding the previous statement.

"How do you know I'm not needed? Think you are?" The redhead snorts, "As if."

"Your presence is very clearly not welcome. She has reciprocated none of your advances, and has been blunt with you to deter you. You have ignored all of this and have continued to pester her for no reason. You are not wanted or needed, so leave." Bob begins, clearly wanting to say more, though he stops at a look from me.

"I'm not going anywhere, and you can't make me." Caleb folds his arms, planting himself in place.

Brow twitching, Bob steps forwards, moving as if to grab the smaller man, hand already outstretched, only stopping when I intervene.

"No, Bob, it's fine. He's not worth it." I stop him, ignoring Caleb's somewhat triumphant look.

Bob halts, staring the other man down, a scowl starting to creep onto his face, staying in place for a good minute, before he finally moves, reaching out to pull me into his body, marching the two of us from the shop. Goosebumps spread out along my skin where he's touched me, the hand at my waist heavy but not unwelcome, the feeling of his hard body pressed into mine making me swallow tightly. We go straight to the car, leaving no room for conversation until we get there, at which point he breaks away.

"What was all that about?" I ask him, confused by his actions, "I mean, I'm grateful that you stepped in, but you didn't have to-"

I'm cut off by the feeling of his large hands on my waist again, yanking me into his muscular body, pressing me flush against his hips. Surprised, I barely register what is happening as he smashes his lips into mine, kissing me roughly, his tongue already slipping out to trace along my lower lip as I gasp into the kiss. My eyes widen momentarily, only to fall closed as I relax into the kiss, my hands coming up to run through his hair, pushing myself closer to him, his muscles right under my touch. The terminator steps forwards, shoving me up onto the hood of the car, still kissing me, his mouth ravaging mine hungrily as his hands start to move, pushing up my shirt to caress my back, one slipping down to grip my ass, tightening around me as he presses his chest tighter against mine. Moaning, I arch my chest into him, allowing him to slip his tongue into my mouth, the synthetic muscle exploring and roaming everywhere it can reach, only pulling back when I tap his arm, needing to breathe.

Heads staying close together, we stare at each other, our breaths mingling with each exhale, his hands still rubbing over my skin. It's only when a wolf whistle from somewhere nearby sounds that I remember exactly where we are. Eyes widening, I pull back further and look around, noticing the group of men walking past, three of them waving and jeering at us, leaving my neck exposed to Bob. Instantly, his mouth attaches to the skin there, sucking a mark onto my pulse point almost immediately, his tongue smoothing over the area, followed by a wet kiss.

Trying not to moan too loudly, I gently push him off, already craving his touch again.

"Not here, Bob. It's not appropriate." I gasp out, lightly running a hand down his face.

"I apologise. I was unable to withhold myself." He replies, helping me down off the car, adjusting my clothes for me.

Lifting an eyebrow, I smile at him in curiosity.

He simply smirks, having learnt the action from John, doing his impression of a shrug and helping me into the car.

#terminator judgement day #terminator 2 #terminator imagine #terminator #t 800 #arnold schwarzenegger

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sp00kworm · 4 years ago

Text

SIREN (A Monster Metal Band)

Chapter 1 - Meeting the Band

Pairings: Various Monsters x Reader

---

“And today we have some very, very special guests with us in the studio!” The radio-announcer cooed over the microphone, into the silence of your tense apartment. You turned up the volume, clutching the pillow in your lap and your phone in the other. “With us today we have the up and coming band SIREN!” He roared as the microphones turned on for the men and they laughed over the stereo. You clutched your pillow tighter as the interview started for real.

“Here in the studio with us today we have the entirety of the band line-up. Vocalist, Zadok. Lead guitarist, Duncan. Rhythm guitarist, Senoz. Bassist, Blagden. And our favourite drummer, Khadba!” They thanked the announcer with a chorus of gentle laughter, and you readied the dial up number, knowing exactly where the interview was going.

“So, we all know that you guys are performing in our city in a few days’ time. I’m sure every fan listening is excited for the show! You have some real reputation, guys, truly.” The announcer laughed with them before he started with the questions, “So, Zadok, rumour is that you’ve been recording some new vocals with famous artist Lady Conch?”

Zadok’s gentle laughter hummed through your speakers, “It’s an ongoing project, but she’s a lovely woman. We’ve worked together before and I’ve appeared in her solo work before. It’s hard to find male Mers for her music so we’re basically friends at this point.”

“Interesting!” The announcer hummed, “I never thought that would be an issue for merfolk in music, but you learn something new every day!” He continued, “Duncan! How about that new guitar deal you and Senoz have with Irontars?”

Duncan huffed over the microphone before Senoz laughed and started the explanation, “We have a new deal with specific models around our specific tastes. Duncan has a very uhh…” Senoz clicked and cackled, his voice echoing strangely, “Dark taste. It looks like a very big axe. I went for a slicker look but it’s a lot of flames.” He cackled.

“We’re a metal band, Senoz. I can go as dark as I like.” Duncan said gruffly before adding, “I like my guitars like I like my partners.” He purred, “Sharp and a bit insane.”

The announcer laughed it off before continuing on through the last question, “Here I have an interesting question from a fan for Blagden! They asked just how it is on tour while catering to such a very specific diet?”

Blagden hissed before answering, “Bicorn diets aren’t that hard to get. Mostly meat. But I can eat everything other people can. Zadok and I go fishing when we’re at the coastal cities. Fresh is better but no.” He leaned into the microphone, “I don’t have to eat people’s husbands.” He huffed and you heard the sound of hooves clacking against the floor as he settled back into his seat.

“A good revelation, thank you for answering.” The announcer added as he reached his final question, “Khadba, our favourite new addition. Before this, the band ran on hired drummers for each tour, so, how does it feel being a permanent member with this new album?”

Khadba coughed awkwardly, “It’s been a ride, but I’d say that the music is much, uh…” He stuttered for a moment, “The music is much more personal with me I’d say. I’ve had a long time to get to grips with the music in recording and even before this I was a fan of the guy’s work.”

Blagden growled, “He’s a fucking liar. He practically told us our tempo was garbage. Zadok hired him on the spot after one sound test!”

Duncan roared with great laughter, “It was a time. I’ve never had someone tear my work to pieces so well!”

The announcer laughed with them before he went back to the audience, “Now, let’s play a song from the new album! This one is called Deep Dark featuring some very special vocals from your deep-sea merman, Zadok.”

“You’re too kind.” Zadok hummed before the voices cut out and the song blended into being, beginning with that could only be described as merfolk speak. You relaxed gently against the cushions as the gentle bubbling voice rang out. You looked at your coffee table and snatched up the latest issue of Metal Talks, admiring the front. There was a glossy latest picture of the band on the magazine. Zadok’s white eyes were close to the camera lens, his white skin glowing with purple bioluminescence as he opened his mouth full of sharp long teeth for the camera. Duncan was perched in the back with his axe guitar gripped in one hand, his body covered in black fur. Duncan was the largest member, a giant black, curly haired Minotaur with curly tresses that hung between his two great ivory coloured horns, covering his great green eyes. Senoz was a grey skinned demon, his four, blue eyes glinting with mischief as he too posed with his guitar, decked in skin-tight leather and heavy metal cuffs, his three tails poised up behind him. Blagden, the Bicorn was truly petrifying with his black thoroughbred, sleek fur rippled and his great mouth open to expose his predator teeth. You traced a finger over his dual black, unicorn horns and the curling pair of ram horns behind his ears, admiring his great shaggy mane. Khadba was placed in the back, his arms crossed and drumsticks in one hand. His moss coloured skin and grey steel eyes were intimidating, his face and ears littered with piercings to match the gruff look on his face. You admired the tattoos over his arms depicting burning skulls and giant demons before the song drew to a close.

“After that zinger we’re back in the studio with SIREN!” The announcer called and you readied yourself as the bit you had been waiting for finally arrived, “And now, we get to the part you’ve all been waiting for, the giveaway.” He hummed, “Today, from the charitable guys here, we will be giving away an exclusive early entry ticket and backstage pass for the gig!” The guys hooted in the studio before going quiet as the man shuffled his papers, “The question is…” You felt your heartbeat in your chest as you listened with bated breath, “How long is Duncan’s guitar solo in the song ‘Burn’?” He quickly read out the number for the call lines.

“You know, I don’t even remember how long that solo is.” Duncan huffed before grumbling.

Senoz cackled, “I know!” He jeered before Duncan snorted hotly at him.

“The lines are open! Get those guesses in!”

You tapped the call button and prayed to all that was good in the world that you would get through with your guess. It was the longest solo in the band’s discography. You knew you had a chance.

The phone was quickly busy in the studio and you listened to the hold music with your bottom lip between your teeth, worrying at the skin as person after person guessed, and was met with the loud siren. Incorrect. Fifteen people in a row guessed it incorrectly. You were in with a chance.

“And now we have another guess on the line! Tell us your name sweetheart!” The announcer said. Suddenly, you realised that he was speaking in your ear as well.

“Uhm… Oh gosh…” You stuttered your name and listened to announcer.

“Now, let’s have your guess. How long is Duncan’s guitar solo in the song ‘Burn’?” He tapped the countdown effect.

“Good luck, darling.” Zadok’s lilting voice tickled your ear.

You took a deep breath before replying, “The solo is one minute and forty-seconds long.”

Silence. You felt your heartbeat in your stomach.

“CORRECT!”

“Fuck me. I didn’t even come close and it’s my solo. Well done.” Duncan hummed down the microphone as the rest of the band laughed and chuckled behind him.

“You’ve won the backstage pass and early entry ticket!” The announcer cheered before you were quickly snapped onto the line for your address and name for the premium postage and for the band’s team to know who you were. Your mouth hung open before you quickly coughed and started to try and rattle off your address to the woman, brain frazzled and still in disbelief.

“What?!” Tom shouted from behind the bar, “You won?!” He howled in disbelief, before he slammed his fists against the countertop, “I’ll give you the money for the other ticket!” He begged, “I wanna go and you have a spare ticket now!” The brown-haired werewolf grinned with pointed teeth before clutching his hands together, “Please!” He begged again, “I’ll get on my knees for it!”

“Tom, please just chill out!” You begged with a laugh as you tucked your bag away under the bar, “You give me the money and I’ll give you my standard ticket, stop freaking out!” You promised as you struggled to tie your apron behind your back.

“Here. Let me give you a hand.” Tom tugged the ties tightly and deftly tied a knot around your waist before he let you turn back around and stroked at his beard with a clawed hand. It was a sign he was close to the full-moon and his shift, “How about we meet for a drink then before?” He asked, deep brown eyes glinting.

“No can do! The backstage stuff starts super early and I don’t want to be drunk and meet them all. The last thing I want to do is embarrass myself.” You lamented, “Do you remember when we saw Clutch after their show?”

Tom barked a great, gruff laugh at the memory of the gig you had gone to when you were both younger, “Of course I do! How could I ever forget?” He teased, “You went flying over Rakesh’s tail!” He chuckled and wiped a glass down, “Your face met the concrete, after you cracked his ass on the way down.”

“Oh great, I’m glad you got a laugh out of it!” You bumped your hip against him with a scowl before tugging at the tail poking through the back of his jeans, “I wasn’t laughing! He nearly tore me apart!” You huffed, “Such a highly strung dude…” s

“You’re telling me!” Tom huffed, “I nearly had to shift and throw him off!” He tapped the top of his arm, “He got in that bite, which hurt like a motherfucker for three weeks, by the way.” He stuck his long tongue out at you and scratched at his brown curly hair, his hairy arms exposed out of the rolled sleeves of his shirt.

“Boo hoo.” You joked, “You’re big enough to punch a Naga, so I’m sure you can take the consequences of it.” With a smile you took out a new bottle of whiskey for the premium top shelf brands, “But again, thank you, I might have ended up in a mess without you there…well and security.” You hummed as you sorted the shelves, stood on top of the stool.

“Be careful.” Tom grumbled as he went past you, “We don’t want you spanking a customer on the way down.” He joked.

“Fuck off, Tom.” You snarked back at him.

The ticket arrived the next day, and you rushed from your sofa when the delivery man knocked on the door, keen to sign for them and stash them away for the show. The postman jumped as you slammed the door open and turned his pad towards you with the parcel in one hand. After signing he handed you the thick, padded envelope and then nodded, quick to leave you to your ticket and pass. You grinned and stashed them in your lockable drawer before gushing to Tom over the phone. The night of the show came slowly. You had to work up until the day, and every shift had felt like it had taken an eon. Everything was slow and long, but finally the day arrived. Your instructions were to arrive about two hours before the main opening time, where the venue staff would greet you and take you through to the backstage. You were allowed to see the backstage operations before meeting the band you were far too obsessed with. At least, you reasoned, you weren’t like the fans stealing hair. You’d seen a lot of horror stories online. You admired the band members and you wished you could explain it without sounding very small and sad.

The concert hall was giant. It was an arena which accepted shows of all kinds. You looked up as you walked inside the doors to the ticket booth. There was security everywhere. A pair of Orc security guards watched you curiously as you smiled at the venue staff and showed them the personalised pass. It was pictures with a picture of the band on hard plastic, like a credit card.

The woman behind the desk grinned, “Boys! You’ve got someone to show around!” She wiggled her finger at the two security guards and watched them huff before she collected her clipboard and handed you a printed tote, “That’s for your merchandise choice. Now, if you’d like to come this way these two handsome Orcs will show you to the backstage.” She cooed.

“Hey. I’m Frank. This is Droz.” The elder Orc shook your hand, his greying hair tied back in a long traditional braid. He was the typical soft green colour but Droz was a charcoal grey, his eyes red and his tusks large and more prominent. Droz was studded and pierced in most places, his hair cut short and styled into a wicked hawk down the middle of his head. He nodded at you but didn’t say anything.

“Ignore him. He’s quiet.” Frank cackled before shoving his elbow into Droz’s gut and opening the door for you towards the main stage area, “Comes with being part Gargoyle.” He snarked at Droz. The other male tailed behind the two of you but opened the rail for you to go behind the barrier.

“This is the way you’ll come out to watch the show later as well.” Frank added as he showed you through the curtains.

Your heart slammed against your ribs as you clutched at your pass over your chest, holding it tightly, like a life line, as Frank showed you past the curtain and into the mess of road crew and wiring.

A heavy hand laid itself on your shoulder, “They’re good guys.” Droz rumbled behind you, “Don’t be nervous.”

You huffed awkwardly, “That’s easy to say but hard to put into practice.”

Droz shrugged, “I know but it’s good to hear it.”

“That’s the longest sentence I’ve ever heard you say, Droz.” Frank joked as he navigated through the roadcrew and made it into the back area of the venue. There was a very long corridor in the back with the dining area, small kitchen and shower room with areas for both the crew and band to chill out. You looked at the dingy hallway and felt your anxiety skyrocket.

“No need for the fright. They’re all in the lounge area waiting for you, all dolled up and pretty.” Frank chuckled before opening the door halfway down the left side of the corridor. He opened the door, and you hid behind Droz before daring to peer inside.

The entire band went quiet as Frank slammed the door against the wall. Duncan’s forest green eye peered through the curls of his hair between his horns and he grinned with flat teeth as Zadok and Senoz span around quickly.

“Can you put your tails away you freak?” Zadok smacked at Senoz’s ass as the demon grinned, crazed, his four eyes blinking in pairs as he slinked closer to catch a glimpse of you. Droz rolled his eyes and shoved you into the room before offering a shrug and closing the door, leaving you with Frank and the band.

“This is our cute little winner I take it?” Senoz purred as he took your hand and bowed, pressing it to the hot skin of his forehead as Zadok battled against the tails twisting and smacking to greet you.

“Yep. This is the lucky one.” Frank confirmed, “Play nice, hm? You need to get the photoshoot and autographs out of the way and give away the merch.” He clicked a pen and snapped it against his itinerary before waving himself out of the door.

“We always play nice.” Zadok’s low timbre vibrated as his gills flipped and shut tight against his neck. The singer was dressed in sheer fabric, the netting showing his torso off, and tight leather trousers. He offered you his white scaled hand, “A pleasure to meet you. I’m going to assume we don’t have to introduce ourselves, but for the sake of politeness, I am Zadok.” He shook your hand and smiled, white eyes and teeth exposed as his skin rippled with a deep blue light, “As for the rest of these hooligans then. Senoz is the drooling idiot next to you.”

“Rude as fuck.” Senoz snapped at the smaller male, blue eyes burning before he went back to sit next to Duncan, squeezed in on the sofa next to the Minotaur. The rhythm guitarist was dressed in a leather waist coat and tight trousers, his tails punched through a great hole in the back.

“Duncan, the man behind the longest guitar solo in our history.” He joked as Duncan flipped his hair back between his horns and waved once, uncrossing his hooves off the table and placing them on the floor. He was dressed only in a pair of leather trousers with a thick, pair of suspenders over his shoulders, showing off the piercings in his nipples.

“A pleasure.” Duncan nodded and flicked his tail at Senoz and his wiggling.

“Over in the armchair is Khadba. He’s warming up his arms so forgive him if he doesn’t wave.”

Khadba nodded his head at you but didn’t say anything as he drummed his sticks on a warm up pad, heavy arm muscles straining against the simple band shirt and his cargo shorts hiding very little of his legs, decorated with chains and bones.

“And last but not least, Blagden.” The Bicorn snorted at you but waved one hand before he kicked at Khadba’s stand and hissed at the Orc’s anger. His mass of flowing silks swayed with him as he reached to prune at his hair.

“Fuck off, Blag. I’ll put you through the chair.” Khadba growled as he tossed his great black braid down his back, the rings in his hair clicking. The Bicorn tugged at his tusks and the Orc was quick to kick Blagden’s backwards knee, grinning at the pain he had caused.

“Its lovely to meet you all.” You croaked before uttering your name and trying your best to smile without freaking out.

“You have a cute name.” Senoz purred as Duncan’s eye peered through his curtain of hair.

Duncan huffed at him, “Can you please stop laying it on so thick. No one wants to sleep with you.”

“That wasn’t my intention.” Senoz grinned at you, “But if you’re down, sweet thing, I can show you what all my mouths can do.” He purred before Zadok clawed at his scalp and threw the Demon’s head back towards Duncan.

“Keep yourself in line.” Zadok warned, “This is a fan. The media is watching.” His bioluminescence burned into an angrier looking pink before he smiled at you with long, thin sharp pointed teeth.

“He’s right, as always.” Blagden’s black eyes fixed on you before he held up a purse mirror to groom his hair around his horns, “How about we have a drink and a chat, hm?” The Bicorn reached for a beer on the table and threw his long face back to drink the great bottle, pouring it past his sharp teeth.

“What do you drink?” Khadba asked quietly as he stood up, placing his sticks on top of his padded stool.

You took a deep breath as Duncan made space for you to sit, “Something strong, please.” You begged quietly.

Zadok gave a great, hissing laugh at you and he took hold of his own drink, “Just a bit nervous, huh?” He asked gently as he sat in one of the armchairs.

You let out a sigh, “I’m shitting myself.” You confessed, “You guys are my favourite band and I just… Everything I want to say sounds super lame and I don’t want to fuck this up.”

Duncan eyed you, “You’re not goin’ to fuck it up, sweetheart.” He snorted, the ring in his nose bouncing as he spread his furry arms over the back of the seat, “We’re not exactly prim or proper.” He rolled his green eyes and scratched at the base of one of his horns.

“Especially not Duncan. He comes from a farm.” Senoz cackled, the noise echoing mysteriously in his body.

“I’ll puncture your other arse cheek.” Duncan thumped at the demon, “Farm work is the reason I don’t look like a twiggy mother fucker.”

“Boys. We have a guest.” Zadok scolded them both with a hiss, the bony fins on his head flaring.

“Here.” Khadba placed a Vodka and mixer in front of you, “To take the edge off.” He smiled before returning to his seat with a large Orcish mead.

“Thank you.” You smiled and took a drink before realizing just how strong it was, “Maybe only the one for me.” You joked.

“So, on to the actual part of this contest win!” Senoz clapped and Zadok reached for the list itinerary with a curse.

“Merchandise?” He asked the room.

Duncan stood up, his curly hair rippling down his back as the sofa bounced back into shape, relieved of his weight, “They put it back here.” He rumbled as he opened a big box labelled ‘exclusive’ and peered inside. He pulled free a shirt before huffing, “How about you come choose, eh?” He left it open and moved aside for you to squeeze in and look.

“Holy shit. This is exclusive Fanclub stuff!” You cursed as you pulled free the shirt, lanyard, and various stickers. You looked at the pin badges before there was another item that caught your eye, “They made plushies?!” You cooed as you dragged free the soft plush of Duncan.

“When the fuck did they make that?” He looked at you and laughed, a great bark of one breath before he shrugged and pulled his hair from his eyes, “Fine just take it. Before I change my mind. You want one of each of the rest too?”

“Please. Oh gosh, thank you so much.” You let Duncan dump the rest of the items in your bag.

“Where’s the plushies of the rest of us?” Senoz whined as he peered into the box, “No way there’s only Duncan!?” He hissed, “Bull shit.”

“Too bad, Senoz. You’re not kid friendly enough.” Blagden hissed at him as he took great pleasure in peering at what else they had to do, “Picture as well.” His talon tapped the list and Zadok nodded before he shouted for Frank.

“Behaving?” Frank asked as he walked in, “Or are you calling me in to drag Blagden off someone?” He chuckled before Zadok leaned back and tapped the clipboard.

“We need the photographer.” The merman smiled.

Frank nodded, “Sure. I’ll go and grab him. Best get situated. He’ll not want to be in here long.” Frank closed the door behind him with a click and you took another calming breath before you tucked away your bag and chugged the rest of your drink in an effort to calm yourself down.

“Don’t make yourself sick!” Khadba chuckled as he tucked his braids back over his shoulder.

“That’s not a good look on a photo.” Senoz teased before walking around you and looking at your outfit.

“Mate. Stop it. It’s concerning.” Duncan pulled him into the sofa and smacked his hoof against the Demon’s leg.

“Now then,” Zadok smiled, “What sort of poses are you wanting. Obviously we can’t do anything sexual or which could injure us.”

Blagden chortled before purring, “I don’t think that’s what Lady Conch had to say last time you saw her.” The guys shook their heads, “I heard you two through the walls.”

“Enough, Blagden.” Khadba sneered, “Fan in the room.” He punched the Bicorn none too gently, “Remember your fucking manners.”

“Uhm.” You tried to ignore the fury on Zadok’s face, “I would just like a big group photo if that’s okay? Maybe with you guys all crowded around and me in the middle. Maybe we could do some funny back to back things?” You asked quietly to the three men around you.

“Sure thing.” Zadok smiled thinly, “Duncan will have to crouch big style.” He teased.

“Not my fault you’re all fucking tiny.” The Minotaur clicked his tongue.

“I suppose it isn’t.” Zadok looked down at the list in his lap before humming, “This has been kind of lame…” He clicked his fingers, “How about single portraits with each of us too? We’ll sign each.” He smiled.

“How about you actually talk to ‘em huh?” Senoz shook his head and smiled, touching a tip of a horn before he offered his hand, “What do you do for a living?”

You swallowed, “I just work in a bar.” Awkwardly, you continued, “Me and Tom, my friend, we always go and see shows like these and dream about having a rock bar. The place we work is this trucker place. The music is decent, but it gets rowdy.” You laughed, “But its purely luck I won this…” You hung your head, “I’m glad I did…You guys are my heroes. I listened to everything. Anything new from when you first supported Howl. It was just so pretty and hard! Amazing!” You gushed, “All your music has got me through some hard stuff and I just felt like I should tell you all that.”

“Here.” Khadba stood over you, offering a tissue, “You’re crying.” He hushed you.

“I’ve never heard anyone talk about our stuff like that.” Duncan wrapped a warm arm around you and gave you a squeeze as Zadok sat in silence.

“I’m glad it makes you happy.” Blagden offered from across the room.

Senoz nodded, “Music is the soul. If it helps you heal, then that’s good enough for all of us.” He patted your head and you wiped at your makeup before blubbering.

“Thank you for listening to us.” Zadok whispered, his fins flattening against his skin, “To know my work makes you feel such things. That is enough for me to continue to sing.” He touched your hand with his cool fingers before Frank opened the door with the photographer.

“You alright sweetheart?” He asked with a glare at the band.

“Yeah.” You sniffled, “I’m alright!” With a smile you stood up and binned the tissue, “I think I know exactly what kind of photo I want to have!”

The photographer pinched his nose and peered over the top of his sunglasses, “I haven’t got all day, you know.” He lisped a little and you noticed the red eyes. He was a vampire, “I have to set up with the media.”

“Come on.” Duncan barked a laugh again as he led you over to the backdrop set up in the corner.

“Are you sure you’ll be okay?” Frank asked as he helped you hop over the barrier to stand right in the centre stage. You were ready, having left your bad with Frank and Droz in the back, your new shirt pulled on after peeing. You were set for an awesome night. Before Frank could ask you another question, Khadba appeared from behind the curtain with a plastic cup in hand.

He waved once as he strode over, his rings and chains clinking before he offered you the cup, “A drink. On me.” The Orc nodded and smiled, revealing the silver rings around the base of his tusks, “I was easier on the Vodka.” He promised as he left you with Frank, “Have a good time, alright?”

“Thank you, and I will, I promise.” You shouted with a smile as he headed back behind the curtain, “You can go as well, Frank. I’ll be fine! People will be heading inside soon, and I know you have some checks to do.” You smiled, “Thank you for looking after me. You’ve been wonderful.”

“You’re very welcome.” He grinned with a nod, “Now you be careful. They’re no doubt going to get very rowdy.” He wagged his finger before disappearing behind the curtain. You nursed your drink for a few moments more before the curtain twitched again and Blagden appeared.

His black eyes quickly caught sight of you, and he huffed before offering you a small, plastic case, “Don’t burst your eardrums, cutie.” He tossed you the purple case, “Its going to get loud.” He made a horns sign at you before sauntering away, his heavy hooves clicking as his slick black fur disappeared back behind the curtains. You opened the case and looked at the industrial earplugs before smiling and slipping them into your pocket for the gig. The doors slammed open behind you, and you braced yourself for the onslaught of people as you texted Tom to elbow his way to the front.

Tom shouted your name as he made his way close and you were quick to snag him by the shirt and pull him into the gap next to you. The werewolf was far less monstrous today. His eyes were still bright and orange, but he was not sporting his tail and snout.

“That crowd right there was a nightmare.” He sighed with relief as he laid his forearms on the banister and shuddered, “How was the meet?” Tom teased as he tugged his unruly hair backwards, “Did you suck face?”

“Absolutely not!” You smacked at his arm, “I had a bit of a cry, we had loads of pictures and I hung out with possibly the coolest band ever.”

“Oh, so just the normal then?” Tom snarked, “That sounds amazing. Sounds like you had fun.”

“Here look!” You showed him your phone and grinned clicking on the camera album, “They’re all very sweet.” The pictures were very safe. Zardok had his arm around you, his fingers up in the sign of the devil. Duncan was looming over the back of you with a monstrous glare. Senoz covered your eyes and opened up his mouth in a scarily wide grin. Khadba’s was a little awkward but he was smiling softly as you held his drumsticks with a smile. Blagden had you pose back to back with him, his snout tossed in the air like a regal pony.

Tom gave you a smile, “Honestly, I’m really happy for you…Though I am jealous Duncan isn’t cold in only suspenders and trousers.”

“Tom he is covered in curly fur!” You laughed as you slipped your phone away, “You’re the same when you shift!”

The werewolf hummed, “But would I wear leather suspenders? I think not.” He snapped his fingers at you before looking at the empty drink in your hand, “They’ve fed you alcohol? Lord save us all.” Tom mocked a prayer before you elbowed his side.

“Khadba gave me one!” Tom went cross-eyed to look at your one finger held up to his nose, “I’ve had two in total and that’s it. I promise.”

“Maybe I needed to word my warning a little more strongly.” He tutted before laughing at you, “You’re dangerous with one. Let’s see how you manage two making you do stupid things.”

“I’ll be fine, Tom. Stop being such a mother hen.” You joked before taking a sharp breath as the room was plunged into pitch black.

“I hope you brought your wig.” Tom teased next to your ear, “Because we’re about to get our hair fucking singed off.”

The darkness made the fans in the arena roar with joy and you grinned as the support act appeared on the stage, guitars held up for the audience to see.

“Well, maybe not just yet.” Tom lamented before readying himself at the front for the show.

The support band were excellent, and you cheered at the front after their performance, already sweating and far too hot. Tom grinned before going to fetch you both a drink. He returned with cold plastic cups.

“Water, I promise.” He clinked his plastic cup with your own and pulled his hair back away from his face as you looked at the stagehands drop a great sheet cover over the stage. It was dark and they worked by torchlight to set up for SIREN.

“I’m so excited.” You cooed, “I never thought I’d see this…”

“Come on, don’t get all gooey on me.” Tom chuckled and grinned with sharp canines as he shrugged his flannel off to expose his own band shirt, “I’m excited as well. This is going to be insane!” He laughed, “So much better than their support show.” He looked wistfully at the stage and downed the rest of his drink just as the lights snapped off. The crowd roared behind you and you threw your cup over the barrier as you bounded against it and peered up as something was placed in the centre of the stage behind the sheer purple curtain.

There was a rumble over the speakers before the purple sheet dripped down to the floor. There was a pitch-black tank in the centre of the stage. A great hissing noise blended into something close to a whale song before white light lit up the water. The crystal-clear water held Zadok. His white skin glowed with burning purple light as he twisted in the water, a microphone taped to his chest and throat as his eyes opened, pure white. His mouth opened to reveal clear needle-like teeth as he released another great bellowing noise into the dark room. It was silent otherwise, except for Zadok’s haunting song. You peered into the water as he twisted and released a series of clicks as water began to slosh and crash in the speakers. The merman’s claws and webbed hands reached out of the water before he pulled himself free of the water and slid into the darkness of the stage, his bioluminescence lighting his path as he let out a gentle noise and merged into a soft human sounding lilt. Your mouth hung open in awe as he stood at the front of the stage, humming before he opened his mouth wide.

“And now we stand. Silent. Darkness.” There was a pause before his eyes flashed and he hissed, “THE COLD DARK WATER.”

Suddenly, the spotlights flashed as Khadba’s cymbals crashed and the guitars roared three chords together. Blagden’s bass rumbled on in the background as the guitar rolled with a lilting scale and Zadok continued to sing centre stage, dripping water from his skin as he kneeled at the front of the stage, glowing brilliantly as the lights died and flashed once more with another thunderous crash and guitar strum. There was silence before the guitars wailed and the song truly began and you looked up as the crowd roared, listening to the beginnings of the chorus eagerly before the water crashing started again and Zadok’s haunting melody reverberated around the stadium. Tom jumped with a cheer next to you as the song grew into a thunderous noise like water crashing against the cliffs, and you watched Zadok fall to his knees as the storm calmed and the water settled. He settled down and hummed into the microphone as he finished the gentle ending. The guitars faded as the spotlights went off one by one and you grinned as the water trickled and dropped to a stop. The crowd cheered and you smiled as the lights came on properly to reveal the band.

“Are you motherfuckers ready for some mind-blowing music?!” Zadok screamed at the audience as Duncan’s guitar gently plodded onwards with an intermediate tune. Blagden sauntered over to him, his bass rumbling as he grinned and the two of them stood back to back as Zadok introduced the next song.

“Now this one is an oldie. A very old song named Blood.” He purred before Senoz grinned and started the introduction riffs.

“AND NOW ITS TIME TO BURN!” Zadok howled into the microphone sometime later. Duncan thudded to the front of the stage, slick with sweat, his curly hair tossing left and right as he slammed one hoof on top of the box and slapped at his bare chest. The crowd cheered as both Senoz and Duncan started the song. With a huff and a toss of his head, Duncan launched himself into the solo, his finger dancing over the frets as he felt the music in his legs, stomping on top of the box as Zadok headbanged towards the others, growling low into the microphone occasionally as Duncan’s fingers tore down the frets in another feat of speed. You screamed at the front as he ducked low, his hair flying over the top of his horns as he continued into a reverb before throwing the plectrum down to you with a wink and a great shake of his head, his fur rippling as he stomped his way over to Senoz to continue the song. You held the plectrum tightly to your chest. In the middle of the show you watched Senoz and Blagden butt heads in the middle of the stage, their horns rammed together as the song blurred into the next, stomping and kicking at each other’s legs as they battled each other in how fast they could strum their way up and down the necks of their guitars. Khadba interrupted their duel with a crashing solo, his tattooed arms bulging with overworked muscles as he spun his stick between beats, sweating in the heat of the spotlights. The crowd roared at the solos and screamed with Zadok until it was the end of the show, and the band stood to take the applause, sweating, panting and smiling as the crowd clapped and cheered.

Tom grinned at the end of the show, his eyes wild with happiness as you both stood still, waiting for the rest of the crowd to filter out of the hall. You smiled at the stage as the crew were quick to start cleaning up.

“That was insane.” He huffed, his shirt tucked into his jeans as he wiped at the sweat on his chest, “Where’s all your stuff?” Tom asked with curious, half-shifted yellow eyes, snorting softly with the excitement of the gig still burning his nerves.

You smiled and pointed to the curtain, “Backstage. I think Droz will have them. He’s security. We might have to wait a little bit to see him though.”

“Oh, getting in with the security as well I see!” Tom teased, “Who’s that waving at you? Through the curtain there.” He pointed again and you squinted at the grey hand.

“That’ll be Droz.” You whispered as the last few stragglers collected stray plectrums and setlists before it was just the two of you. Tom shrunk away as the intimidating frame of the Orc hybrid came into view. He held you bag in his hand and you smiled brightly, tired and sweaty from the gig.

“Thank you, Droz, you’re a lifesaver.” Gently, he handed you your bag, appraising Tom with a curious red eye.

“Your welcome. It was nice having you.” Droz grumbled, spinning the ring in his nose before he gave you a wave, “I’ll tell Frank you got off safe. Be careful on the way home.”

“Thank you!” You shouted as he disappeared into the back.

“So, are all of the band that ripped, or just him?” Tom joked as you shouldered your merchandise.

“Says you! Come on. Let’s get home. I think this was enough excitement for anyone, my heads ready to explode.”

“Never have I felt so exhausted.” You groaned in your seat as you sat down in the café near your apartment. The city was at least quiet by the time you woke up today. It was around ten, and most people were at work. You waited, half asleep, for the server to dump your coffee on your table with your meal and hummed quietly as your phone vibrated.

‘I hope you didn’t end up with one of the hotties from last night at home!’

You scowled at Tom’s message.

‘Fuck off. I’m tired and you’re not helping.’

He pinged your phone a few more times and you ignored it as your food and coffee was placed before you.

“Thank you.” You smiled and turned in your seat to look around. That was when you saw the one person you didn’t expect to see.

---

Chapter 2 - Duncan

Chapter 3- Zadok

Chapter 4- Senoz

Chapter 5 - Blagden

Chapter 6- Khadba

378 notes · View notes

anika-ann · 4 years ago

Text

The Winter Tale (S.R.)

(Of Snowflakes, Hard Fallings and Soft Landings)

Pairing: Steve Rogers x fem!reader Word Count: 3900

Summary:

Scoring a date with Steve Rogers is not easy. One’s gotta be patient.

Fall might blend into winter before you get to go out with him, but know one thing; Steve Rogers makes things worth your while.

Warnings: swearing and tooth-rotting fluff (no really, it’s strong with this one, and it’s me saying that, so...)

A/N: Sequel to The Fall Tale, works as a standalone too I guess

The Fall Tale (previous one-shot)

💙❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️🤍❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️💙

Fall was reluctantly letting winter take over, as it usually happened towards the end of November, and you were still painfully single. Technically at least, because you yet had Steve Rogers to take you out on your first date.

How was that possible? Glad you asked. It was because fate was a bitch, to put it eloquently. Steve had got your number with almost a scout’s-honour promise to call you soon, and then he didn’t. He lied. Like a liar.

To be fair, after three days of you being mad at the embodiment of truth and justice for all, Steve Rogers did call you, awfully apologetic and sounding truly regretful and either he was that good of a liar who even hired foreigners to be his alibi, or he really was on a market somewhere in Eastern Europe, catching his breath in a middle of a mission.

Being angry with him got considerably harder after that, especially since two days later, you read about a major showdown in his supposed current location and saw a brief footage of him protecting innocent civilians.

Because Steve damn Rogers just had to get more perfect.

The thing was, right after that mission, there was another one, this time lasting twelve full days. You were incredibly pissed at the circumstances – and maybe a little bit angry with Steve too – but mostly mad at the circumstances that didn’t want you to get romantically involved any time soon.

Sure, you could have just told Steve off, bid him goodbye and find someone else, but you couldn’t.

Because Steve tried his best to stay in contact whenever time and safety measures allowed it, texting, calling and on one precious occasion, even facetiming. And once he relaxed a bit – which seemed to be always happening rather soon into the communication, allegedly because you made him feel like a normal guy – Steve could be an entirely nice guy and you couldn’t make yourself let go.

Steve Rogers was kind, charming, witty, which was a cocktail you would never say no to, but on top of that, he was panties-dropping gorgeous. So even if the chances were that eventually, after the date actually happened, you might only end up like friends due to the immense distance between your league and his, you would feel like an idiot if you didn’t try to make it work, hence waiting for him to have a damn day off.

And you didn’t regret it; the date was totally worth the wait.

Yes, the weather sucked, so your clothes was perfectly damp just like your hair just from walking from your door to the cab due to the wildly swirling snowflakes, but Steve held the car door open for you, standing right there in the cold just to be a gentleman for you. He also reluctantly took your hand once inside the cab and even dropped a shy kiss on its back, his demeanour and bright blues reminding you exactly why you had been patient.

The restaurant was nice but not too fancy, which didn’t prevent Steve from opening doors for you, pulling out your chair, letting you order first and generally doing swoon-worthy things that made you feel both touched and aroused. The less posh environment didn’t make either of you feel bad for laughing and being entirely unsubtle, as the conversation varied from light to serious, laughter blending into chuckles and need to touch each other’s warmth for comfort. There was teasing, there was touching, there were unexpectedly dropped lines that made your heart flutter and there was inevitable falling deeper into the pit labelled ‘adoring Steve Rogers.’

“You really are going for the whole shebang tonight, aren’t you?” you teased him lightly when he helped you put on your coat and informed you that he made a reservation to a cinema.

The blush that crept up his neck caused you to feel even giddier than before. The wine you had both ordered might have not affected his brain as he had told you, but it had definitely coloured his cheeks rosy – and yet, now they grew even hotter.

“I mean, we don’t have to-- I don’t-“

You took his hand and squeezed, which shut him up effectively, his expression puzzled and hesitant.

“I would love to spent more time with you, Steve,” you assured him and he smiled sweetly as the cold air from outside caressed your face.

Your breath caught in your chest at the sight you were offered. Yes, New York never lasted long as a winter wonderland, but right now? Now it seemed almost magical as the freshly fallen snow proudly displayed its silvery white.

“Is the reservation paid?” you blurted out, your head snapping to Steve’s only to see disapproval on his face.

“I don’t want you to worry about that-“

“Not an answer.”

“… it’s not,” Steve replied, frowning a bit. “I wasn’t sure how long we would need for the dinner or if you’d even like to go. So… you don’t? Want to go?”

You wondered how Steve did not see the child-lie enthusiasm radiating off you with how perceptive he appeared to be so far. He missed it altogether, apparently, because he sounded disappointed.

It dawned to you that he didn’t get many chances to just go and see a movie and you instantly felt bad for rejecting something he kept his hoped up for.

You couldn’t have Steve sad, even if he was barely showing it. Not to mention that he had been treating you almost like a princess, you sure as hell wouldn’t treat him like you were the evil queen.

“Well, if you really do want to go, we can…”

He only shrugged his broad shoulders, charming a small smile for you.

“It’s up to you. I can cancel the reservation if you have something else in mind. Whatever to keep that beautiful smile on your face,” he offered and your stomach actually flipped as butterflies filled it for the hundredth time that day.

That was your thought exactly about him, but nope, of course he beat you to it and on top dropping a line like that, he was the embodiment of perfection when delivering it.

Steve looked so hot and adorable at the same time that you had to fight yourself not to jump to his arms and kiss him senseless. Pink plush lips, slightly red cheeks, gorgeous blue with a drop of green of his eyes twinkling and he wore such a kind expression that it made your heart simultaneously weep and race.

He kept complimenting you so effortlessly and was so considerate the whole evening too and you weren’t sure how much more you could take before you forgone all self-control and pinned him to the nearest wall; or casually confessed your undying love for him.

“Steven, you are a dangerous man. You should wear a damn warning,” you grumbled insetad, smiling so widely your mouth might actually tear.

He pursed his lips a bit, head tilted to side a fraction, looking like a confused kicked puppy.

Jesus, Steve, stop it or I’ll have to kiss you and I want you to kiss me, so please, be considerate of my lack of self-restraint.

“What did I do?”

“You’re being annoyingly perfect-“ oh now he was frowning hard, “-not like annoying annoying, but—you know. Just… I have a hard time believing this is actually happening. I really like you, Steve Rogers.”

The lines of his forehead smoothened out at your admission, his expression softening as did his gaze.

He helped you put on your gloves, fingers skimming over the first bare and then clothed skin tenderly, small sad smile playing in the corner of his lips.

His eyes met yours, the twinkle in his eyes you which already learned to love dimming. “Well, I did sort of make you wait for almost a month. Not so perfect. No warning needed.”

You had to physically fight yourself so you wouldn’t snort unattractively at the remark; yeah, the said waiting did nothing to protect your heart now. Sadly, your brain-to-mouth wasn’t fully functioning, still letting out more than it was appropriate for a first date.

“Steve, even with that, you’re making it very hard not to fall for you.”

Well, shit. The first admission had been playful. This one sounded pretty clingy. Now he was about to run off and think you a crazy girl-

But Steve didn’t. His face lit up with gratitude and affection and then a smirk found its way to his lips.

“That’s good to know. But I happen to recall a particular moment when you have already fallen-“

A surprised exasperated laughter erupted from your throat, and you actually had to gasp to gather both air and your wits. That little sh-

You yanked your hands free from his, raising your index finger towards his face.

“You know what, forget it, I’m taking it back!” you exclaimed, taking a pointed step back as Steve chuckled. “You are not perfect, you are a jerk and I think I should go home-“

“No, no wait-“ He reached out for you, but you took another step away, squinting at him playfully.

“I wanted to walk with you in the park, taking in the romantic sight of clean New York snow, but you know what? I don’t think I wanna anymore-“

Steve made a lunge for you and grabbed your hands, raising it to his face to drop kisses on your gloves- well, damn, now you regretted that he had so kindly put them on you.

“No, wait, doll, let’s walk. Unless you’re going to be cold-“

“There are some thermal microfibres in those tights or whatever, I won’t be,” you grumbled and he beamed as you unwittingly showed him that you weren’t really mad even despite his little-shit display earlier.

You said won’t be not wouldn’t have been and Steve appeared to be entirely content with you yielding so easily.

Well, damn it, it was really hard to keep up with Steve’s wits and humour; you loved it.

“Very well then. May I offer you a walk in the park, ma’am?” he said, holding out his elbow in invitation – the one farther from the road, of course, gentleman – and you chuckled, unable to help yourself.

“It was my idea, you know. Also, depends – are you going to be a jerk?”

“You wound me, miss,” he clutched at his chest theatrically, but definitely tugged you a bit closer when you slipped your arm through the loop of his own just in case you were about to change your mind when another of his jokes inevitably arrived.

“Sure I am.”

You barely made few steps without a word, when his gaze fixed on your face for long enough for you to get nervous.

“…what is it?”

He smiled, gently tugging at your joined arms, and looked you dead in the eye. “I really like you too.”

Oh. Oh. Okay. Where did all the oxygen go? And when did your heart started pounding so loudly in your chest?

“And for the record, I find it impossible not to fall for you.”

You lowered your gaze under the intensity of his, watching your feet walking in tandem as your cheeks burned and your head spun.

“A friggin’ warning,” you muttered under your breath darkly, drawing a breathy chuckle from Steve, followed by his ‘I mean it.’

Truth was, a warning wouldn’t have helped, probably. Because Steve Rogers was impossible not to fall for; but he was definitely worth it.

💙❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️🤍❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️💙

You weren’t sure what possessed you; must have been the wine, lowering your inhibitions.

Once again, you couldn’t contain your child-like behaviour.

One moment, you were walking in the park, dim street lights causing the snow glow brighter, fluffy and pure, as not many people were here to disturb the peace. Even the city fell almost silent in the first snow’s honour, as if grateful for the good two inches it was given.

The next moment, you freed yourself of Steve’s warm hold and hurried from the path to gather enough of the wet delight to make a snowball – and hit the pole nearby streetlamp with a surprising precision.

You turned to Steve with a grin, finding him mirroring your expression and clapping, a sound muffle by his own thin gloves.

“Very good aim. I’m impressed,” he assured you and you curtsey for him like the child you were and went to try again.

Before you could finish making a perfect ammunition, three balls hit the very same pole in quick succession, causing you to gasp and swiftly turn to Steve – who winked at you with a shit-eating grin on his face.

It was a justified display of smugness, because he stood almost ten feet behind you, the distance from which he hit the pole actually impressive.

Wow.

“Show-off,” you called out silently, drawing a shrug from him. You went to try your aim again to settle the unofficial score and whined when you missed. “Okay, you win, Rogers.”

Steve, on the other hand, continued his strike and hit three more; you noticed him bending for more snow, making a quick and very dumb decision as an idea popped up in your mind.

As he was busy showing off his skills, you got your own two bullets ready and shot-- one of them did hit your target, which just happened to be Steve’s chest.

His mouth formed a theatrical ‘o’ and you couldn’t but double over in laughter despite missing with your next attempt.

“You didn’t!” he gasped, clearly genuinely shocked that you in fact had hit him with a snowball. “Now you’ll get it!”

In hindsight, you should have known that it was like waving a red cloth in front of a bull; you should have realized that Steve would take it as a challenge to a snowball fight.

And it was very obvious from the start that you stood no chance, even if he was blatantly holding back as you tried and failed to hide behind a bench, behind a tree and anything in your reach, your and his laughter carrying through the park as if you were damn children, both of you. You hadn’t felt so alive in years.

Steve however stepped up his game upon you hitting a point of him so high that some of the snow clearly got behind the collar of his coat. The hiss he let out and the flames in his eyes when they met yours after your perfect hit made you run away with all you got, your heart thumping in your ribcage frantically as you knew all too well that there was no escaping a supersoldier.

You tried and failed to speed up as you heard him closing in; perhaps it would be much easier to catch your breath to run faster if you weren’t laughing at the expression of pure shock that had been on Steve’s face when the snow tickled the sensitive skin of his neck.

A yelp escaped you as he grabbed you a tackled you to the ground, spinning you to he would take the brunt of the impact and only then he rolled you over – trapping you against the cold wet ground, making you squirm at the biting sensation on your own neck.

“No! No, Steeeeve,” you whined miserably, but your cheeks were hurting from the laughter and he was a solid mass on top of you to keep you warm, so you didn’t have any reason to complain. You in fact enjoyed the feeling and the intimacy of it a little too much, considering that this was still only your first date.

How? You felt like you knew him for months now; it was like having an unfairly handsome best friend you not-so-secretly had a crush on.

“You brought this upon yourself,” Steve exclaimed, grinning down at you and for the first time, it dawned to you that not only his torso way lying on you and that his hands were caging your head as he tried not to crush you with his weight, but also his gorgeous face with his tempting lips were in dangerous proximity to yours.

Dangerous to him – if he wasn’t careful, he might get kissed very soon.

You stared up at him, lost in the beautiful colour of his eyes and you were only mildly ashamed to find your gaze wandering down to his red lips.

“I—I suppose,” you whispered as your laughter died down, your breathing still heavy and only growing heavier with each second spent mesmerized by Steve’s face so close to yours.

“You suppose right,” he whispered back, voice slightly hoarser than a moment ago, his gaze roaming your face with intensity that had your heart stumbling in your chest. “This is a nice trip down the memory lane.”

“I-uhm… I remember it being the other way around.”

A smile grazed his mouth, still so damn tempting and you really found yourself barely noticing the snow melting into your clothes when—him.

“You complaining?”

You smiled right back when he lowered his head a fraction, so so painfully close you would barely have to move to finally taste his lips.

“Well, the snow is cold, but-- you know how it is… I had worse things happen to me than having a handsome fella land on me.”

Steve chuckled, the vibrations of his chest sending liquid fire through your veins, especially when his eyes seemed to brighten despite the dilatation of his pupils.

“You remember that, huh?”

“You kidding?” you mused quietly, wondering if Steve decided to torture you; if he wasn’t about to kiss you in the next thirty seconds, you might actually combust. His gaze was now more on your mouth than anywhere else and if you were honest, you might have been trembling with anticipation a bit. “That was the line, Steve. I thought you were so smooth.”

An inch. One damn inch, if not less of a distance remained between his lips and yours, practically touching, his radiating warmth and begging for yours to lick at their sweetness.

And yet, Steve still spoke, words you could almost taste: “What do you think now?”

“I think that I’d really like you to kiss me.”

This time, his lips brushed yours, a soundless ‘kay’ tickling deliciously, your eyelids fluttering shut.

Your hands automatically gripped the lapels of his coat, using them as leverage when he withdrew, giving you space to breathe and process what happened. Too bad you didn’t want to, you needed more right in that moment; you tugged at the fabric, chasing after his lips and lifting your head without even opening your eyes.

You could feel his smile as he kissed you again, lingering this time, a tender dance of lips, parted a fraction to breathe in each other’s air. Your head was spinning, your tummy tingly and you truly felt like you could fly, not even ashamed if Steve was grinning at your eagerness – he seemed pretty board on with continuing to kiss you too.

So you smiled back, happy to let him take the lead as long as he stayed-

A discontent hum rambled in your throat when Steve retreated again, even if he caressed your icy-cold nose with his, dropping a kiss there too to warm it up.

You met his eyes, heavy lidded, misted with emotion and you found yourself smiling wider.

“Can’t have you catch a cold, doll,” he rasped and before you realized what was happening, before you could as much as frown in confusion, a silent yelp left your throat as Steve rolled you over again, one arm secured around your waist, keeping you on top of him.

You might not be lying on the snow anymore, but your wet back was exposed to the cold night air now, which wasn’t much any better.

But you were too busy to care, because Steve lost one glove, cupping your cheek for a better angle and he sank his lips into yours again, causing you to see and feel the stars.

💙❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️🤍❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️💙

If Steve walked you all the back to your apartment and you invited him in to dry off, only for him to end up spending the night, well, no one needed to know – even if you kept each other warm with nothing but tea and cuddling under the covers.

Whether things got a little more spicy than sweet in the morning… that was only for the two of you to know.

Either way, you decided that while the fall, early or late, had its serious downsides… you were willing to put up with it, because it had brought someone as amazing as Steve into your life.

Which got even more handy when you ended up catching cold from your snowy adventures.

💙❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️BONUS❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️💙

Blissfully wrapped in each other, not you nor Steve (which was more of a wonder) noticed two pairs of eyes focused on you and your shenanigans in the snow. Neither of you heard Bucky sigh under his breath either as he lowered the night-vision binoculars.

“Thank God, I thought for a minute that the punk wasn’t going to go for it,” he muttered under his breath, handing the device to his field partner.

Sam took one glance through the binoculars before rising his hand for a high five, which Bucky instantly complied with.

“With the way they eye-fucked in the restaurant, I would have to rip him a new one if he didn’t,” Sam stated.

“You’d have to get in the line behind me,” Bucky retorted, but grinned, truly happy for his friend.

“More like get ready for being ripped a new one,” a voice behind them opposed, causing both soldiers to nearly jump out their skin in surprise – and literally jump to their feet in fright, ready to face their enemy.

Their enemy seemed harmless to an untrained eye: the one and only Black Widow, watching them with her arms crossed on her chest and a raised eyebrow.

“We knew you were there,” Sam blurted out instinctively, earning an eyeroll from the redhead.

“Sure you did,” she scoffed and nodded in the direction of the pair still rolling over in snow in the distance. “Now that you know that Rogers still got some game, you going to stop stalking him or do I have to keep an eye on you?”

“Please. You were just curious as we were, otherwise you wouldn’t be here,” Bucky smirked and Natasha shrugged with one shoulder dismissively.

“Maybe. Maybe I just wanted to make sure you wouldn’t crash their date to ‘help’,” she said, taking care to make air quotes with the last word. “Now let’s get out of here. If you really want to help, you can start looking up some chicken soup recipes to cure her inevitable sniffles.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Bucky replied dutifully with only an edge of irony, while trying hard to remember the recipe for the soup Mrs. Rogers or his ma used to cook back in the day when the always sickly Steve Rogers refused to take normal (disgusting) medicine.

The thought of Steve not being on the receiving end of that treatment and instead being the caretaker had his lips curl up in a smile.

💙❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️🤍❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️💙

S.R. masterlist

💙❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️🤍❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️💙

Thank you for reading!

I don’t often write sequels to one-shots when asked, but inspiration struck this time (I went to a wedding and caught very mushy feelings). I hope you enjoyed. Don’t sent me your dentist bills, you’ve been warned.

222 notes · View notes

outerbankslut · 4 years ago

Text

Childhood Friends... Pope Heyward

Summary • You have been in love with Pope Heyward since you first met him when you were younger. But there’s one or two problems. Or so you think. He doesn’t like you. Does he?

Warnings • Swearing. Underage drinking.

Word Count • 3.3k (Imagine)

Masterlist

(GIF isn’t mine, let me know if it’s yours)

AT EIGHT YEARS old you first met Pope Heyward. The concept of Outer Banks at such a young age seemed like a dream for you. Never ending beaches. Hot weather practically all the time. Surfing and swimming at your beck and call. It was a stark change from living in Minnesota.

The house you moved into was a small two story house next to one almost identical. And the day you had moved in a boy came knocking at the door. He seemed around your age and held a pie dish in his hands seemingly quite nervous. Your parents were upstairs unpacking so you opened the door hoping maybe you could make a friend.

"My mum made me bring this pie for you since we’re neighbours, here you go." He kept his eyes trained on the ground then handing you the pie and scurrying back home before you could even take a breath. Your face dropped as he ran off but you felt determined to make him a friend, after all you were neighbours so how hard could it be since you'd see him almost all the time.

A few days later your mum wanted to buy some groceries rather than living off of takeaway food for any longer and opted for going to Heywards shop. Which ended up being your neighbours store.

You wandered through the store while your mum chatted with Heyward and eventually stumbled upon the boy who ran away sitting on the floor and reading a comic.

"Spider-Man's really cool." You had said sitting down next to him as his head snapping to the side suddenly looking from his marvel comic to you. It was a surprise he didn't get whiplash.

"Really? I think so too." The boy gushed about the hero while you sat listening. Then your mum called you from the front of the store and you pouted, sad you could hang out with your new friend any longer.

Then the next thing you knew the eight year old boy was dragging you both to your feet and taking you to the candy area. He handed you a chocolate bar with a cheeky grin. "Don't tell my dad."

You nodded and giggled before rushing off to your mum and looking back at your new friend happily. Your parents invited the Heywards around for weekly dinners and alternated between houses becoming good family friends which only strengthened you and Popes friendship.

After that began it was an almost daily thing for you to hang out. You and Pope were attached by the hip. You went on your bikes together. Even took kids surfing lessons together. Though Pope practically already knew how to surf since he was raised on the water.

As you grew older you would do your homework together with the Heyward boy often helping you with the subjects you struggled in while you helped him with the things he struggled with.

Eventually you offered to help with the shop to pass time and hang out with your friend and at this point the Heywards were like family to you.

When you were both ten years old Pope had the idea to make a tree house. And though not the best considering it ended up just a rickety platform balancing on branches with ladders either side of it, it still worked. The tree overhung both houses back gardens with its trunk positioned just on the edge of your garden.

You met two more goofs that year. JJ and John B. The two Js was what you called them at first. You became fast friends with their long hanging bond similar to yours with pope. You fit like a lock and a key together. However you never showed the Pogues the treehouse, it was just you and Popes little space.

You spent a lot of time up there just staring up at the stars of reading. Pope liked to talk about all his hopes and dreams while you were there and you listened.

"Y/N, do you think I’ll be able to get into a good college. Like for forensic pathology." He asked as you laid on the 'treehouse' could you even call it that.

"Pope you are the smartest person I know. So it's unlikely that you won't get into anywhere you want."

"I know it's just—I don't think my dad can afford it so I'll need to get a scholarship. There'll be be hundreds of people competing for it. I'm just a drop in the ocean to them." He ranted and you could hear the stress in his voice. This wasn't something someone as smart and determined as Pope should have to stress about was all you thought. He deserved so much while people who deserved so much less got fed with a silver spoon up in figure eight.

"They'd be dumb not to let you in. I don’t see how you wouldn’t. I have faith in you but I will also do whatever it takes to get you in. I'll pay for your tuition myself if I have to. Or I'll find some dirt on the dean and—"

"I'd rather not have my acceptance be a product of your blackmailing ways Y/N but thankyou and I'm not letting you pay for my tuition." He laughed. It was the melodic sound that rung in your ears that made you smile and turn your head away from the stars and towards him. The small lights you had hanging from the tree branches were bouncing off of his beautiful chestnut skin. His eyes were a shade of dark honey brown that simmered in the light. He was amazing in every single way.

Your fourteen year old self was starting to realise what you had been oblivious to the whole time. You would do anything for Pope. He was your ride or die. And you hoped you were his.

However when Kiara came in was when things went weird between you and Pope. She waltzed in in all her kook glory looking like a goddess. So of course you couldn't blame the boys when suddenly all their attention was on her and her beautiful brown wavy hair or golden cocoa skin that glimmered in the sunlight. You couldn't figure out whether she was just born lucky with amazing genetics or whether she was a vampire like from Twilight. Either way, Pope Heyward fell and he fell hard that year. At work he always spoke about her and it was slowly killing you inside. Every time he mentioned it you swore you heard your heart break and crack into more pieces.

You wished you could tell him. But you would be putting your friendship on the line. It would be selfish to tell him when he clearly wasn’t interested.

Instead of moping over an unattainable crush you attempted to move on. And to everyone’s surprise started flirting back with JJ. He was always shooting his shot like he did with Kie and tourons at keggers but normally you never flirted back. You thought somehow within your skewed logic it would work and you would be over Pope. Like the saying fake it till you make it. But it just bought your thoughts back to how it wasn’t Pope.

The Heyward boy started to pay more attention to it. He got a weird feeling in his stomach everytime he saw you laughing at JJs jokes and not his or just talking to each other. He stared every time you flipped your long glossy hair over your shoulder and looked flawless or would saunter off back into the chateau for a drink.

His interest turned from anyone to you within a second of a word coming from you pink lips. But you had convinced yourself he wasn't interested and you were oblivious to his newfound feelings. And so he stayed blind as he had been before to yours.

"HEY WHAT’RE YOU doing over here, lil red." JJs nickname had originated from the fact that red was your favourite colour. You had even dressed up as little red riding hood one year for Halloween which sparked the full nickname. It was sweet but in no way anything more than a friendly nickname. Although Pope begged to differ. You sat leaning against the wooden poll on the wooden floor of the dock. Your arms wrapped around your legs pulling them close to your chest giving you a sense of comfort as you stared at the sunset across the marsh.

You turned to the blond sending him a small smile before turning back to the sinking blends of fluorescent pink and oranges blurring into one beautiful mess in the sky. "Watching the sunset."

"Mind if I watch too?" He asked settling down beside you and resting his arms on his knees. You nodded. It turned away from the sky.

You heard the laugh of Pope from behind you and turned this time you turned away to look seeing Pope laughing with Kie that just sparked jealousy in your stomach. He looked so happy with her.

"So what's the deal with that?" JJ asked from beside you and you turned to him confusion splattering on your features which were orange from the light hitting of the setting sun.

"What are you talking about?"

"I'm talking about the long glances, more like stares really and when you tell a joke you always look to Pope first. You look at him like he's the best thing in the world. Not to mention you randomly starting to flirt with me. I'm a professional ladies man. I notice these things. You’re not interested in me, it’s Pope." He blurted out and you sat rubbing a hand over your face with a sigh.

"I don’t do any of that." JJ have you a look which you shrugged at. “Look I—I did, but I don’t anymore.”

“You sure about that?” JJ kept his stare on you as you shuffled uncomfortably before sighing.

“I just wish he could just like me back, but he never will he’ll always like Kie and I don’t wanna be jealous of them cause then I’ll be a terrible friend but... I can’t help it.”

“Lil red, I know you might not believe me but I think Pope does like you. A lot. I’ve seen the way he looks at you. It’s not just some friendly look.” He places his hand on your shoulder rubbing it softly and you send him a tight lipped smile.

“Maybe he does, I doubt it though. And people say girls are complicated. You boys are just as complicated.” You teased bumping his shoulder as he let go of yours. “But anyway we’re forgetting about the most important rule ever. No pogue on pogue macking.”

JJ snorted shaking his head. “Don’t bring up that bullshit rule. I know that if anyone of you showed interest in me it would be out of the window.”

“I’m not particularly a rule breaker unlike you.”

“Rules are made to broken but you’re just boring Lil Red.” You gasped and turned to your friend.

“No I am not. Take it back.” You glared at him jokingly.

“What’re you gonna do?”

You raised your eyebrows and then pushed the boy off the dock thinking you’d suceeded for a slip second until he grabbed your shoulders and pulled you in too.

Pope watched the two of you laughing and talking for a while without you realising and then he saw you both fall in the water together laughing and looking like you belonged together. He shook his head slightly as he looked back to Kie who stared with worried eyes.

“You okay Pope?”

“Yeah, yeah I’m fine just thinking.” Kie nodded going back to talking to John B until a shout erupts and they both turned to see JJ and you in the water. Pope was already looking.

“Lil red what the fuck?” He laughed shaking off his hair while you rung your own out still looking amazing to Pope.

“You said I was boring.” You shrugged chuckling and then screeching as you were pushed back under the water.

“I’m honestly surprised they’re not together yet.” Kie laughed looking at the two other boys beside her.

“You think they like each other?” Pope asked worry pinched in his eyebrows. It was one thing for him to think it but for Kie to confirm his thoughts made his stomach churn.

“Well yeah, I mean look at them.”

Pope was looking at them. And he saw it clear as day. You and him were never going to happen.

You breathed heavily as you and JJ walked up the steps to the docks. “Hey I know what we can do to help get your mind off of Pope for a night.”

“What?”

“A kegger.”

THE PARTY HAD started two hours ago and was roaring with teens, kooks and Pogues alike hung together for one night filled with truce, beer and weed.

He had left you a few minutes before to pursue a girl of course while you sat around a bonfire staring at the embers that floated into the midnight sky. But you were still thinking about him. He was stuck in your thoughts like superglue. You'd hoped that maybe alcohol would help loosen you up and get you out of your head but being alone and drunk made it worse.

Pope stood by Kie as you sat at the fire by yourself. Now was his chance to tell you and maybe you would like him back but if you didn't then maybe it would be less embarrassing since you were drunk. However he was not drunk since he abstained from the beer despite the multitudes of parties they had. He was the designated driver type.

"I'm gonna go over to Y/N." Kiara nodded before she continued talking to a random boy that sat next to her.

He walked across the sand catching your attention as you snapped your head up to see him heading your way.

"Hey Pope."

You were surprised he left Kie.

"You looked a little lonely so I'm giving you company."

"Oh Thankyou. My saviour." You said jokingly. Taking a swig of beer you examined the boys face. It twitched with nerves as he sat next to you and fiddled with his fingers.

He looked up at you with a small smile. “Y/N, I—”

“God, girls around here really have a good left hook.” JJ groaned holding his face sitting down next to you on the log interrupting Pope who he hadn’t noticed.

Then JJ looked up to see Pope sitting there awkwardly and you almost laughing at the fact that he got punched by a girl which never happened before. “Oh shit sorry I didn’t realise...”

“Realise what?” You asked shaking your head cluelessly before you dragged yourself up. “I need another drink.”

JJ tried to stop you but before he knew it you were at the keg with him following after.

“Uh, Lil red, I think Pope might’ve been about to tell you he liked you.”

“Wait, what? Really?” You almost dropped your beer as your hands went slack in shock but you quickly gripped it tight swallowing some. Pope stared into as you had walked away from him with JJ following. Of course he was going after you because like Kie said, they liked each other. He wanted to see if he could forget, so he did something he would probably regret.

“I’m pretty sure I mean he looked like he was going to. I really need to talk to him...” The blond trailed off as he stared at something behind him.

“What is it?” You were about to turn around until JJ held your shoulders in place until your shoved them off and saw what you never wanted to see.

Pope was kissing a girl. Not Kie though. It was just a random girl who he was kissing. Your eyes burned with tears as you turned to JJ scoffing.

“Yeah he definitely likes me doesn’t he.” You choked back a sob shoving the beer into JJs hand and running off into the trees.

Pope has pulled away just in time to see it and instant regret filled his stomach.

“Pope, buddy, what did you do?” JJ asked softly as Pope looked at his walking away from the random girl who looked taken aback.

“I’m so sorry.” He apologised and she rolled her eyes walking off. “I don’t know what was going through my head, one second I was at the fire the next I was kissing a random girl.”

“Look, bro, just go find her and explain everything.”

“Yeah, I’ll—I’ll do that.”

You had walked the farthest you could from the party, still bare foot since your shoes were in the van and John B had the keys. You were leaning against a tree trunk when you decided to go to the one place that would comfort you most despite reminding you of him.

You went straight home taking 20 minutes to walk down the cold desolate roads that were dark by this time. The first thing you did was get ice cream from the freezer before making your way to the tree house and wrapping yourself in the blankets befor leaning against one of the many pillows stored there. You listened to the gentle breeze above rustling the leaves of the blooming trees and the crickets in the distance and felt the gentle swaying of the platform beneath you.

This was your comfort place. It was the only place you felt like this since it was where you created all your favourite memories with Pope Heyward. The unattainable boy who had always been by your side.

By the time Pope made it home it was completely dark but he knew exactly where you would be. He made his way to his backyard and saw your small figure and made his way up. You sat up quickly and almost burst into more tears after seeing him.

"Y/N..."

"Pope what are you doing here?" You asked as he climbed up the ladder.

"I came to check up on you..." He sighs and sits down next to you. "And I came to say that that kiss was a big mistake."

"Why—what?" You looked at the boy in confusion.

"I like you. I know we've been best friends forever and I hope this doesn't make it weird but that's the truth. I kissed the girl to see if I could forget about you which in hindsight was really stupid. And you probably hate me."

You looked at him with glossy eyes and smiled.

"Yeah that was stupid if you thought you could get over me.” You laughed which died down when you turned to him looking more serious. “But I don’t hate you. It’s not like we were dating.”

“I was thinking...we could change that.” Pope tells you and you raise your eyebrows, a growing smile on your face.

“Hmm okay. Date. This friday. On the beach. You and me?" You asked and his eyes lit up feeling slightly surprised at the forwardness.

"Isn't it supposed to be me asking you out?" He asked teasingly.

"It's the twenty first century pope get with it."

"Of course. And I would love to go on a date with you.”

“Good.” He then jumped on top of you in all your blankets and you let out a shriek. “Oh my god, Pope are you trying to simultaneously give me a heart attack and break this thing?”

“Not really, but if it happens then oh well.” He feigned nonchalance for a second breaking into a grin as you slapped his arm.

“Watch it mister. Or I’ll reconsider that date.”

“Okay, I’m sorry Y/N.”

You sighed contently as he wrapped you up in his arms, both of you under the blankets and the stars. You could definitely get used to this.

Note • In honor of simping for Pope and jd day, year, decade and century i’ve written this cause he’s a cutie and I love him. This was kinda anticlimatic but 🤷‍♀️

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maladaptive-ninja-returns · 5 years ago

Text

The Bad Guy (2)

Bucky x fem!Reader

The Fallen Soldier

Theme: It’s a good day in New York City for Bucky Barnes, who seems to feel right at home till his morning is disrupted by a bad guy. Maybe New York isn’t the same place after all. Now he has teamed up with the Bad Guy to fight the good fight. But this Bad Guy is bringing things on his surface he never knew he had

Chapter warnings: swearing. so much swearing. dumb assholes.

A/N: @writing-prompt-s once gave a prompt last year that stuck with me…I don’t remember the exact wordings but it had something to do with the reader/writer being the villain having a crush on the hero, always finding excuses (or crimes) to meet them. One day they are getting their ass beat and you decide to jump in and save the day. This one is same but with a liiiiiiiitle twist

Word Count: I get one good day and look at me taking out a chapter after another. What is the reason behind this good mood? Spending time with fam? Posting ITA? Them sexy sexy reactions? Good sleep? Meds? Maybe all of them!!

MASTERLIST in bio, love. Tags are open

The mansion up the hill overlooking those city lights was packed with people in their expensive swimwear right and left. Butts were swinging to loud beats, crystal glasses filled with alcohol and unwanted drugs clinked around the six thousand square feet of area. Skinny babes and naked dudes smoked and snorted by the pool while some made out in the pool, around the tennis court upstairs in the balcony; basically any place they could find. Guards stood by the openings in the front and back- well, definitely away from the booze-redden crowd running horny for those black-clad abs and standing there in silence and sharp observation- making sure no intruders or unwanted objects entered the place.

People coming in and wobbling out threw greetings at a slick-looking man sitting on the rooftop making some colourful drinks with the drugs in a sophisticated palette kept on a clear glass coffee table right next to where the multiple not!y/h/c girls- five to be specific- sat surrounding him. None of these ladies looked above twenty-five. But everyone looked like they were all up over that golden-haired broad jaw guy- who could have a name like Chad or Hunter- just for the pills.

“Looky here chicks,” his deep voice with a crustiness to it announced with the cocktail glasses raised for his company to take, “this is how you get to feel a new high. One of these and you will have the night of your life. Uh...scratch that, the second-best night of your life because later on, I’m going to fuck each one of you raw.”

The women hooted while forcing to keep those smiles when he looked away, clearly uncomfortable with that man. One of them was trying her best not to sneeze from all that heavy cologne he was wearing.

“How long do we have to do this Katie? I better be paid well for this,” the not!y/h/c sitting at the other end whispered to her girlfriend.

“I don’t know Samantha,” Katie muttered through her teeth that were all smiles for the man, “just keep going till he tires himself out.”

“Ugh, I have to submit my thesis tomorrow. I hate this guy! Fucking him was not a part of our deal. I wanna go home before I kill this man!” she grunted to her teeth before doing a one-eighty on her expression when he raised his glass at her and winked with his tongue out and wiggling. Samantha wanted to cry but she kept telling herself she was doing it for her tuition fee.

Downstairs, in the driveway, a woman dressed in a golden shimmy dress under a chinchilla fur overcoat and Impera Louboutin walked towards the entrance. Her red acrylic nails played with her hair while the other handheld an LV bag. Those cat-like movements stopped only when the bodyguards stopped her at the door. “Identification,” the grey-eyed Caucasian questioned.

This not!y/h/c wore red-rimmed groupie shades tinted black even in the night. Her lips red, and so were those huge danglers that clinked whenever her head moved or even tilted. She peeked over her shades at the boys and their toys stopping her from going in. The boys saw golden lenses checking them out and waited patiently for her to say something.

Sighing, she raised her bag and gestured the men to look into it.

The boys looked at the bag and then each other. “What’s in it?”

She dropped her head back and groaned lightly. “My identification,” she answered, almost singing it like a stereotypical white teen tired of the drama surrounding her.

The boys opened the zip and raised their brows at the stuff they saw inside. Leather whip, handcuffs, feather, candles, cable ties, ropes, anal beads and strap ons.

Trying to keep a straight face, they zipped the bag back up and handed it back to her before opening the door. “He’s on the rooftop.”

The woman smirked with those wet red lips at them. While walking in with those swishing hips, she grazed that bulge in the pants of the one standing to her right, making him flinch before going back to his position- but not without a smile on that seemingly uncrackable face.

The woman’s smile disappeared the moment she entered the room, her lips turning into the hues of disgust till she found a glass tumbler filled with scotch and dunked her hand in it till she was sure she had got everything off. Wiping it clean with a napkin, she moved through the crowd of stoned youngsters roaming about half-naked, dancing to Sasha Sloan’s ‘At Least I Look Cool’. Grabbing a bottle of whiskey from next to two girls making out in the kitchen, she walked out towards the poolside, howling like a wolf to blend in. Within no time, everyone else there howled like her, getting more into the spirit.

“Haha..oh you all are such fucked up dolts,” she muttered under her breath, dancing her way to the stairs leading to the rooftop.

The wind was adding to the pep in her steps, her skin loving the cold waves over all that makeup. There were two guards standing as security at two ends, looking down at the party. Rest of the crowd was those college girls dressed as elite strippers trying to hog the man’s attention as much as they. All except Katie.

“Ooh, what do we have here,” the man whistled at the woman entering the scene with the sexy saunter.

“Hi Hunter,” she sang in a low, almost sweet poison laden voice, keeping the bag down on the coffee table, “I’m your birthday present. From your best bud.”

The fur coat was dropped down to reveal the gold sequin dress held tight around her with only two thin straps going around her shoulder. All eyes went to the smooth hairless baby-like skin shining under those dim lights around them. Tattoos covered the arms and the back- intricate works inked in black, some phrases etched in Kanji on one arm while some not so popular gangster signs on the other. The back seemed to carry the face of some strange creatures along with Kanji scripting the borders.

The shades were thrown away to reveal her face to Hunter, who was already feeling the tightness in his pants. “So, Hunter-” she opened the bag to take out the rope, making that bad boy’s pupil dilate in excitement- “what’s it gonna be. Full public display or a private show?”

“Everybody out!” He was already shouting, flailing hands at security to walk away. “What the fuck you lookin’ at,” he yelled at the girls, making them jump and scrammed.

“Oh thank God,” Katie said under her breath.

“You’re welcome,” the woman threw in her direction, making Katie feel her lungs tighten at the suggestive wink she got from her before she ran down the stairs.

Hunter jumped up and down the couch in anticipation, grunting at the woman. “Come on, you crazy bitch. Come to daddy.”

The women smirked at Hunter, walking across the table to close the distance between the two of them, opening the cork to the whiskey with her teeth and spitting it away somewhere in the dark. “Open your mouth,” she ordered.

A slap echoed through the air when he didn’t obey. His grunts of pleasure followed next and before you know it, he was looking up at her like a needy puppy. The whiskey went down his tongue, burning his tongue and throat till he had to shut his mouth and spill it out.

“Open up!”

And he did. Again. Once she was satisfied, she threw the bottle away. Some sort of ruckus could be heard downstairs but Hunter didn’t care. His guys could handle it.

The rope came next. Wrapped around his neck and gradually tied securely with a knot. The excitement in Hunter’s pants was already showing. The more she tightened the rope, the more he shivered with pleasure.

“You have been very naughty, Hunter. Very, very naughty.”

Hunter nodded in submission. “Yes. Oh God, yes. I have been so naughty. Punish me, you cunt. Slap the bad outta me,” he growled.

She yanked the rope towards herself, nearly making him fall on the concrete floor. “Follow me on your fours, you bad dog.”

And he did. His hands and knees were scraped by the rugged tiles underneath but he did not care. Soon both of them were at the edge, the glass railing looking down at the lit-up pool.

“Get on the other side of the glass,” she commanded.

“What?”

Even with those golden lenses that were clearly fake, she looked menacing. Without uttering another word- to not get on her bad side because she had his balls in her hands- Hunter pulled up his leg to move on the other side, right on the edge.

“Good boy,” she purred and lifted a corner of her lip. Wrapping the rope around her arm, she got out of her Louboutins, feeling a lot more relaxed than before. “Now,” she sighed while cracking the knots in her neck, “let’s get started.”

Hunter never saw her foot coming to kick him right in his gut, pushing him back, nearly making him miss his footing, his instincts grabbing at the rope within seconds while a high pitched scream left his lungs that got mistaken for another howl wave downstairs.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?!” He yelled at her. Unfortunately for him, no one downstairs could listen to his cries over the loud music reverberating throughout the house. The security was nowhere to be seen downstairs. Just a bunch of drunk bastards enjoying the booze and drugs.

“Where’s your boss?” she asked with a dead expression. No emotions reached her eyes as she held Hunter’s life in her hand her one foot resting on the glass while she watched the man cry tears of desperation.

“Where. Is. Your. Boss?”

“I ain’t telling you shi-”

Her fingers loosened the hold on the rope, making him scream and cry huge tears. “HE’S COMING TO TOWN THIS THURSDAY. PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE DON’T LET ME FALL. PLEASE I’LL GIVE YOU MONEY. I’LL GIVE YOU DRUGS. DON’T LET ME FALL OH MY GOD!!!”

“How many girls did you sell in your life, Hunter?”

He shook his head, hanging onto the roop around his neck with his dear life. “No, please no,” he whimpered repeatedly to the point all you could hear were squeals. After some time they were gone too.

“How many?”

“I...I *hic* I didn’t c-count af-after three hundred. I’m sorry. Please let me go.”

“Hmm,” she twitched her jaw while wrapping the rope around her arm again, reducing the distancing between them.

Hunter seemed to find his breaths back, his face swollen with all the crying and yelling. “Was your boss gonna buy the painting that was supposed to be stolen from the gallery?”

Hunter nodded. Those damn tears still didn’t stop. But now the tears were not the only thing leaking from his body.

“Do you know what I hate more than my periods?”

He didn’t ask. He was just trying not to puke his guts out.

“I hate the scums who get rich off other’s bodies. Do you know who that includes? Hmm? You do? You.”

The punch landed on his throat and the rope was dropped. Like a theatrical representation of Adagio for Violin and Orchestra in E major by Mozart, Hunter kept falling down, his hands still flailing in the air to catch hold of something, anything while she looked at the view till she was sure he was down in the pool, splashing the water everywhere. People hurled cheers and salutes while that man tried to catch hold of his senses for his life. She turned away, picked up her shoes, her fur, and her bag, and walked towards the open fireplace to dump the latter into the fire pit. The fire ate it up like a beast hungry for more. Walking away, she jumped over the railing to land on the edge of the estate, strutting straight into the forest barefoot, not stopping till a familiar SUV was visible at the road down the hill amongst multiple high-end cars parked in front of the mansion. The lights turned on the moment she came into view. The door was unlocked for her to climb in and sit in the front on the passenger side.

A security personnel ran by the car. “Hunter’s been attacked! Some bitch threw him off the roof. Code blue! Code blue! Everybody on the grounds now!” his walkie talkie crackled as he ran towards the mansion.

“This is NOT how we’re supposed to work!”

The street lights revealed the new handsome face and those black luscious hair on the driver’s side. Those blue eyes were clearly not impressed by your work, those hands already working around the wheel to make the engine come to life and get the hell out of here.

James Buchanan Barnes rode the car out like nobody’s business in the darkness of the night with one incredible ‘bitch who killed a man from the mafia’.

“Yeah, I brought my stealth suit for nothing,” Scott called out from the back.

The smile on those red lips broadened. With a yank of the hands, the luscious curls came off- revealing them to be a wig all this time- exposing the one who carried out the information extraction.

It was you. You were the ‘bitch’.

The lenses came off too. So did the acrylics.

“I’m just getting started, my darlings,” you stated.

“You should not have gone in alone. And what was this, a disguise?” He asked, pointed at everything that was not you.

“This, my guy-” you peeled off the false nose and cheek paddings- “was my way of cheating face recognition. You should try it sometimes too, Sergeant Barnes. You could’ve really used it when you killed those important faces in New York.”

Bucky was left speechless at the reveal. “Oh sweetheart, I do my homework. Just ‘cause I’m not on the other side with those so-called heroes I won’t do my research?”

“You must’ve been quite the college student,” Scott quipped.

“Top ten of my class,” you acknowledged, doing a hi-five with him without looking.

“I have to say, Barnes, I am disappointed that I didn’t get to see the Winter Soldier. Maybe on our next mission?”

Bucky could see from the corner of his eyes your tongue licking your lips in anticipation while checking him out without any filter. He could feel his hands tighten on the steering wheel. That gaze did something to him. Every. Single. Time.

“The Winter Soldier’s dead,” he commented, “along with all the evil he did,”

“Hmm,” you pouted, looking ahead at the road, “too bad. Would’ve have loved to take him on a ride. Summer in the streets-” you clicked your tongue- “winter in the sheets.”

“...I’m gonna put my earphones on,” Scott muttered and slid into his seat, away from whatever was going on between the two of you.

Bucky adjusted himself where he sat. “Wh-ahem- what are those tattoos on your...uhh skin?”

“Oh, these?” you were easily distracted, “these are just temporary inks. This one is my favourite opening from the anime Naruto. This is the name of the guy I had a crush on from the same anime. On my back are names of all the fav characters from One Piece with what I think is their Patronus.”

Silence.

She is a nerd. Bucky’s inner voice whacked him in the head. Speak for yourself, number one fan of Captain America.

“Now back to you,” you continued, “Mr back from the dead and evil.”

Come, on Buck! You are a ladies man! You should be all up in her business by now. What is wrong with you?!

“It’s okay,” your voice broke his anxious thoughts, “we won’t do anything against your will. I’m all for consent.”

You rested your cheek on the headrest while continuing to stare at him. “There is nothing sexier than having permission to do all the things you want me to do,” you declared softly.

And just like the teasing notes of the violin, the former winter soldier felt himself falling for the villain once again.

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eddie-boii · 5 years ago

Text

Never Let You Go (part 9/14)

Fic info: Both Eddie and Stan live because I do what I want. Multichapter.

Rating: Teen and up (may change). Language.

Pairings: Reddie, Benverly.

Ao3 link: here

Summary: The Losers prepare for a wedding. Here’s some fluff before the wedding happens. In this house, we love and appreciate Audra and Patty.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14

Richie awoke to a pillow slapping his head and a pleasant greeting of “Wake up, fuck-face!”

“Good morning to you too, sunshine,” Richie groaned, rolling over in bed and burying his face deeper into his warm pillow so as to ignore the tiny hypochondriac man currently trying to force him out of bed. A brief glance at the window told him it had snowed overnight, and he’d much rather stay in his cosy bed than venture out there.

“Come on, asshole, today’s the big day!” Eddie said, pulling the sheets off of Richie magician-style before immediately releasing a sound not-unlike one of those rubber chicken dogs toys and clapping his hands over his eyes. “Where the fuck are your clothes?!”

“Why the fuck would I wear clothes when I was supposed to be sleeping alone?!” Richie said, finally dragging himself out of bed to slip on a dressing gown and smirking slightly at Eddie’s red face.

“Are you decent yet?”

“Morally?” said Richie. “Hard to say.”

“Do you have clothes on, dipshit?”

Richie rolled his eyes. “Yes, Eduardo, you can look again without gagging.”

“Why would I gag?” said Eddie, finally lowering his hands, and Richie swallowed the urge to make a blowjob joke.

“So what brings you here this morning, my dear spaghetti?”

Eddie scowled at the nickname. “Maybe because this is my fucking assigned room, jerk-off.” When Richie raised an eyebrow at him, he rolled his eyes. “Bev kicked me out and your presence is requested to help the bride prepare for her special day,” he explained, fluttering his fingers about sarcastically as though disgusted by the romantic notion of it all.

“Well why didn’t you just say, spaghetti-bear?” said Richie. “You mind giving me some privacy while I shower and get dressed first? Unless you wanna get all steamy with me?” he added with a wink, grinning when Eddie’s face flushed red once more even while he wore that adorable scowl.

“Whatever, asshole, I’m going to help Ben get ready.” He retrieved one of his many suitcases - the one containing his suit - and made his exit, leaving Richie to get ready for the day.

Nobody could say Richie didn’t make an effort to look nice; he’d had a haircut a few days ago, and now he actually shaved and put on deodorant after his shower before putting on his fanciest outfit: jeans and a tuxedo t-shirt.

“Don’t all fawn over me at once, ladies,” he declared as he flung open the door to Bev’s room to find Stan, Patty and Audra all fussing over Beverly’s hair and makeup.

“Nope,” said Stan, taking one look at him. “You are not wearing that, no fucking way.”

“Bev said I could wear whatever I wanted!” Richie protested as Beverly tried valiantly to hide her grimace.

Stan gave him a deadpan look. He walked over to a suitcase and pulled a suit bag from it, shoving into Richie’s arms. “Go change.”

“Why do you have this?” said Richie, frowning down at the bag. It was black and opaque so he couldn’t see what the garment it held looked like.

“Because I knew you’d try to pull some shit,” said Stanley. “Go. Change.”

“No offence, Staniel,” said Richie, eying Stan’s bird-patterned tie, “but I don’t trust your fashion taste.”

“I picked it especially for you,” said Stan, and shook his head when Richie looked even more apprehensive. “You’ll like it, trust me.”

Richie wasn’t convinced but went into the en suite to change anyway. As soon as he unzipped the bag, he grinned. He’d never doubt Stan again.

“Now you’ll really have to try not to fawn over me, ladies!” said Richie, grinning widely as he stepped back out of the bathroom all decked out in a suit, except this one wasn’t boring and black like all the ones he had to wear to red carpet events that he hated so much; this one was colourful and patterned with bright flowers all over, not unlike his favourite Hawaiian shirts. The shirt underneath was black, but Richie didn’t care as it made sure the whole look wasn’t too over-the-top. He looked pretty hot if he did say so himself. “You really outdid yourself, Stan-the-man!” he said, pulling Stan into a tight hug.

“You’re welcome, Trashmouth,” Stan laughed. “Patty helped me pick it out,” he added, and Richie gave Patty a big hug too, momentarily distracting her from doing up Bev’s hair.

“You actually look really handsome,” said Bev, looking him up and down.

“You sound surprised,” said Richie, feigning offence.

“More handsome than usual,” Bev rectified. “That nightmare outfit actually suits you.”

“It does scream Richie, doesn’t it?” said Stan.

“Alright, I think we’re done here, hon,” said Audra as she made a final sweep of blusher across Bev’s cheekbone. “You want any makeup doing, Richie?”

Richie blinked at her, momentarily caught off guard. He joked about that sort of thing a lot - a way to detract attention from the fact that he really was a huge ‘fairy’ like his school bullies always said - but Audra seemed completely serious. Richie hadn’t really considered actually indulging in feminine things now that he was out and proud without making it a joke.

“Uh,” he said, “what kind of makeup?”

Audra tapped her chin thoughtfully. “I reckon you’d look really hot with some eyeliner and painted nails.”

“Careful you don’t make Eddie have a fit,” Stan murmured, and Bev snorted as Richie shot them both a glare.

Audra didn’t seem to hear as she was too busy retrieving a bag containing about a hundred little bottles of nail varnish. “Wanna pick a colour?” she said, passing Richie the bag.

Richie perched on the edge of the bed and shuffled through all the bottles, marvelling at just how many colours there were. He contemplated picking a pink that matched some of the flowers on his suit, but decided to play it safe and pulled out a plain black instead.

Audra took the bottle off him and sat beside him on the bed, pulling his hand into her lap. She filed down the jagged edges first - courtesy of a nail-biting habit Richie had never managed to get rid of despite his mother’s wishes - then opened the bottle carefully. Richie stayed perfectly still, watching the little brush sweep over his nails one by one.

“Wow, you actually got Richie to shut up and stay still,” said Stan. “We should’ve made you an honorary Loser sooner.”

Richie flipped him off with his free hand but was careful not to move the one Audra was working on.

“It’s part of my charm,” Audra said simply, not looking up from what she was doing.

“All done, Bev!” said Patty from across the room, and Richie looked up to see the finished result of Bev’s makeover.

Her makeup was done to perfection thanks to Audra and her movie-star expertise; her eyeshadow blended expertly across her lids and the colour bringing out the green in her eyes, her eyeliner perfectly neat and even on each side, her cheekbones highlighted expertly and her lips painted a pretty pink. And her hair was flawless, pulled back in a loose bun bordered by a braid that had been woven around little silver flowers, wavy strands of amber locks falling free to frame her face.

“You look gorgeous, Bev,” said Richie.

“Thanks, sweetie,” said Bev, smiling at her reflection in the mirror. “And thank you, girls, you did amazing.”

“You’re welcome, honey,” said Patty, smiling softly. “You make such a beautiful bride.”

“Yeah, I’m only, like, ninety per cent jealous right now,” said Audra and Bev laughed. “Alright, handsome, don’t touch anything while that dries,” she said to Richie as she finished painting the last nail. “Now, let me see what I can do about eyeliner.”

“Ooh, I think your hair might be long enough to braid,” said Patty, coming over. “Can I?”

“Suddenly I’m eight again and acting like a doll for my sister and her stupid friends,” said Richie, but he didn’t protest as Patty grabbed a brush and some hair ties.

“You love it,” said Bev and Richie just stuck his tongue out at her.

Stan had to run off to take a phone call before Richie’s makeover was complete. He stood in front of the mirror admiring Patty and Audra’s handy work. Thankfully, Patty hadn’t gone too overboard with the braiding, and Richie didn’t match a certain photo his mom had on her fridge depicting him with about twenty bunches and bows in his hair and glittery eyeshadow all over his face. This look was far more subtle.

“You look like a Viking-emo-hippy,” said Bev. “It shouldn’t work but it does.”

“I look hot as fuck,” said Richie humbly.

“Twenty-bucks says Eddie pops a boner,” Bev whispered not-so-subtly to Audra.

“You’re on.”

“Will you please stop with the fucking bets,” said Richie. “Or at least let me in on them, I bet I could make big money.”

“You wish, sunshine,” said Bev.

Stan reentered the room a moment later, a frown creasing his face. It must have been serious because he didn’t even look twice at Richie’s makeover.

“Uh, Beverly, don’t freak out, but we have a problem.”

“Oh no,” said Bev, paling instantly. “What is it?”

“There’s been a lot of snow overnight and the minister can’t make it,” said Stan.

Beverly stared at him. “What?” she cried, her voice cracking with panic as she grasped Richie’s arm for support and Patty rubbed her back comfortingly. “We can’t have a wedding without a minister!”

“Bev, it’s going to be fine,” said Stan, holding out his hands giving her a calming look. “I can perform the wedding, my father made sure I was ordained.”

“But we’re not Jewish,” said Bev, still far from calm. “Can you still do it? Is that going to be a problem?”

“I’m not a Rabbi, it’ll be fine,” said Stan and Beverly gave a great sigh of relief before rushing into his arms and giving him a tight hug.

“Oh, thank you, thank you, thank you,” she said emphatically before pulling away so as not to smudge her makeup. “Oh no, but who will walk down the aisle with Mike?”

“Don’t worry, babe,” said Richie. “Your man has two hands.”

“God, this wedding is just getting further and further away from traditional,” sighed Bev.

“Did you expect anything less?” said Stan.

“Good point.”

“You better get going, babe,” said Audra after checking her watch. “You don’t wanna be late.”

“We’ll see you at the second ceremony,” said Patty. She hugged Bev then gave Stan a quick peck on the lips. “Good luck.”

“You’ll be fine,” said Audra, giving Bev’s hand a reassuring squeeze. “That is one good-looking hunk you’ve snagged yourself.”

“And so respectful,” sighed Patty dreamily.

“I’m standing right here,” said Stan.

Patty soft smile turned into a grin, her eyes glinting mischievously. “No one can beat my man’s sweet little behind,” she replied, reaching her arms around her husband. He yelped suddenly, his face turning red, and Richie realised she’d pinched his ass. He couldn’t blame her.

He gasped dramatically. “You married a girl with a wild side, Stanley!”

Stan shot him a glare but Patty winked at him.

“Oh, he’s got wild side too.”

“Patty!” Stan squawked, and Patty giggled, reaching up to kiss his nose.

”See you later,” she said, then she linked her arm with Audra’s and the two made their way out of the room.

Stanley was still blushing and Richie nudged him playfully. “Man, I really wish I’d been at your wedding.”

Stan rolled his eyes at him but then looked at the ground, his smile falling slightly. “Me too,” he said softly.

Beverly moved forward and took his hand, squeezing it gently. “We’re all together for this wedding at least.”

“Yeah,” said Stan, looking up at her and smiling. “You ready?”

Bev returned his smile a little shakily, wringing her hands together. “As I’ll ever be,” she replied.

They all bundled into thick winter coats, obscuring most of their outfits for the time being.

“We’re really doing this outside?” said Richie, eying the garden through the frost-flecked window which had become a winter wonderland overnight.

“For the aesthetic,” said Bev, giving him puppy-dog eyes. “And for me.”

“Ugh, fine,” said Richie.

“Shouldn’t take long,” said Stan. “Then we’ve got the second ceremony inside where its warm.

“Can’t wait,” said Richie. “This better be fucking spectacular in the meantime.”

“I hope so,” said Bev. She stepped between them and took their hands. Richie squeezed her hand and she squeezed back, smiling up at him, nervous but… Excited. Really excited.

“You’re about to marry Ben,” Richie whispered, and Beverly nodded, unable to speak, but her eyes were bright and glistening.

The words still didn’t feel quite real. Everything that had happened, everything they’d been through, and here they were. Alive. Two of his best friends in the world getting married. Only a year ago, weddings to him were just boring events he attended for the benefit of the press. Just turn up, smile, eat the free cake and leave. But he hadn’t had real friends back then, or at least, he hadn’t remembered them. He’d spent twenty-seven years with a pit in his chest he couldn’t seem to fill and no idea how it had gotten there. But now, standing here holding Beverly’s hand with Stan, preparing to go meet the others, he felt whole again. Finally. He may not have remembered the Losers for those twenty-seven years, but he’d missed them so much more than they could ever know. They were more than just friends to him; they were soulmates, all of them. Their absence had left a huge gap in his life, but now they were back, and he was never letting them go.

Beverly sucked in a deep breath and let it out slowly. She squeezed the hands of both the men either side of her tightly, drew her shoulder’s back, and they all turned as one to face the door.

“Ok,” she said. “I’m ready.”

Richie smiled down at her. “Alright,” he said. “Let’s go get you married.”

Previous Next

#it chapter 2 #it chapter two #reddie #benverly #it 2017 #stephen king #richie tozier #eddie kaspbrak #stanley uris #beverly marsh #fic #writing #fluff #fanfic #fix it #EB writes

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malereader-inserts · 6 years ago

Text

Someone To You

Fandom: Avengers Pairing: Loki x Male!Reader Summary: Loki’s got a big fat crush, Thor plays cupid’s arrow Word Count: 1,696 A/n: Haven’t wrote for Loki for awhile so here he is!

If only Loki could wrap his hands around Thor’s throat and murder him, that would be splendid in Loki’s eyes.

However, the God of Mischief was currently trying to avoid you and his brother, he should have known better not to trust Thor with personal matters such as his huge and growing crush on you. The sweetest and too-good-for-this-world mortal, the avenger that lives without drama.

Loki didn’t know what it was about you that made him swoon like a little girl, but perhaps it was the way you were strangely accepting of his new title of some sort anti-hero, or how you would give him hugs and how oddly affectionate you were for a man in such a horrid world.

Or, how you came into his life when he least expected it and taught him that not everyone is the same.

Nevertheless, Loki was head over heels for you.

And, he wanted to be someone to you.

At first, he was good at hiding it. As you were the one of the few that welcomed him, he tended to stay close by, trying to actually know you - so having an excuse to hang around you was no problem for him. He got to see you make horrible jokes and explain Earth to him, he knows a lot but he can still be a little clueless.

Then, suddenly, spending time with you got too much for him. His chest would tighten when you would smile at him or he would fumble over his words when you talked to him, but played it off so smoothly that you barely take notice of his nervous exterior.

“Want to go for lunch, Loki?”

It wasn’t a date, it was a simple question. You and Peter hang out all the time, you and Thor go to the arcade when you were free and you drag Steve to bowling and those weren’t dates. You were a nice guy trying to ask a niceish God for food.

Loki was unable to form words just nods and smiles before turning his attention back to the book. You seemed unphased at his offish behaviour.

“Cool, maybe we can do something after that!”

That was the time that Thor found out that Loki had a massive crush on you. Thor, who was present in the room when you asked Loki to go out to lunch with you, was watching his brother very closely.

Loki was always up his own arse, a lot of confidence and attitude yet you somehow rendered him useless. So, when you had walked out of the room Thor was up in Loki’s business.

“Don’t you have someone else to bother? Like Banner?”

But Thor simply grins, “I know something and I would like to share with you.”

“Do I get bonus points if I act like I care?” Loki responded dryly, looking up from his book. He sighs and lightly pushed the blond-haired God back.

“You would if I told you it’s about you,” Thor teased, typical brotherly behaviour, “You like (Y/n).”

Loki looked startled, then there was no emotion expressed as he tried to conceal his embarrassment. But, Thor stood up straight with a victory smile planted on his face as he crossed his arms over his chest.

“I do not blame you, brother, (Y/n) is quite the man - strong, handsome, loyal, loving-”

“Sounds like you’re the one with the crush, Thor,” Loki monotony replied, but Thor rolls his eyes, “Besides, he’s a mortal, he cannot compare to me.”

“You’re right,” Thor nodded, “He’s beyond what you are.”

“Thor you are not the God of Love, you are the God of Thunder.”

“I could say the same for you Loki, you are the God of Mischief, not the God of being a lovesick fool.”

Thor was met with a glare from Loki, Loki was met with a toothy grin. Loki sometimes wonders why he managed to tolerate his brother or why he was stuck with Thor as the adoptive brother. He wonders if Thor was actually the adopted one, after meeting Hela, and Odin had been telling lies to everyone.

“I can handle my own problems, Thor, thank you very much.”

Thor shakes his head, side to side with a roll of the eye to accompany the sass. Loki looked disgusted.

“I do not want to be part of your stupid plan.”

“That’s good because you’re not.”

Suddenly, Loki was shoved out of the doorway into you. You looked startled, not expecting to be attacked by Loki at the kitchen doorway. He stood up straight as he fixed his suit as you raised an eyebrow at him.

“Hello,”

“My apologies for landing on you, I forget Thor has a heavy arm.” Loki smiles as you finally understood that Loki was shoved by Thor.

“Ah, well don’t play too rough boys,” You commented, there was a slight tease at the end of your words, “Hey, I’m going out later for some more food - wanna join me?”

“Me?” Loki asked, also coming off offended, his hand on his chest as you stifled a grin.

“Yes, you, there’s no one else in the room.”

Loki looked over his shoulder to mention Thor probably lurking in the darkness of the doorway, But, when he stared at your (e/c) eyes with some sort of happiness, his shoulders relaxed.

“Very well then, I will accompany you.”

Next time, Thor tried to set you and Loki was when you were trying to find a suit that was going to fitting for Pepper’s and Tony’s wedding. It was requested that as one of Tony’s groomsmen you had to wear a burgundy suit so when you had time you went to Tony’s tailor and got yourself measured.

You were the few of the lucky men to be at Tony’s side. Whilst Tony preferred Thor and Loki in the crowd, he didn’t mind that the two gods accompanied you to get the final fitting.

“Loki thinks you look good, (Y/n),” Thor beams as Loki hits his brother behind your back.

“Really?” You wondered, pressing down the material, “Very comfy, not too big on me, no?”

“Of course not,” Loki quickly responded before Thor said something stupid on his behalf, “It complements you very well, (Y/n), Stark has picked a good colour for his wedding.”

“Hmh,” You nodded, staring at yourself in the mirror.

“Loki thinks you have a nice butt,” Thor announced as Loki snapped his head to his brother, he had to hold back from attacking him.

You paused as you processed what Thor had just said. You snorted to yourself amused, Loki turned his attention to you and found you quietly chuckling to yourself.

“It does look nice in this suit!”

As of now, Loki was actively avoiding you and Thor since that incident and the wedding, which was happening right now. A number of Thor’s meddling had happened in the in between, Loki had a rough few weeks.

Somehow at the reception, Thor had announced that Loki had a growing crush that was probably bigger than the God’s ego (Not specific since both Thor and Loki have high respects to themselves).

Loki had seen your face look surprised before turning your head to find Loki in the crowd of people. Loki was thankful that he was dressed for a funeral because at that exact moment he couldn’t wait to stab Thor with a fork, also dressed in black was easier to blend in when the room was dimly lit and disco lights were the only source of brightness.

“Alright, calling all the couples to the dance floor!” The DJ declared, “Or grab that lucky person you want to dance with.”

Loki scoffed, humans and there obsession with being in love. He had noticed that Wanda and Vision were dancing to the slow music, Peter and the girl he invited to the wedding were poorly swaying to the music.

Scott was dancing with Hope, they were very happy at the moment that Loki didn’t notice you sneaking up to him.

“Wanna dance?” You questioned, making the God jump, “I know it’s not like dancing back home for you but if you follow my lead I think you’ll be just fine.”

“I don’t like following,” He responded, but you bumped shoulders.

“Tough luck sunshine, cupid over there won’t stop harassing us until we get ourselves sorted.”

“I think I will live, he’s been on my case since I was brought home. I can last a couple more years,” Loki responded.

“You’re very oblivious, you know?” You casually moved the conversation along, “You’re the only one I invited to run errands with me, you’re the only one I ask to join me for lunch.”

“Am I?” Loki looked taken aback, “What about Steve and the bowling alley?”

“He sucks, he wanted to prove to Buck he was better so he asked me to come along and give him some pointers behind Buck’s back.”

“Okay, what about you and Thor at the arcade-”

“He wanted to get this massive teddy bear at the shop for the tickets, he needed 400 tickets so he dragged me to help him.”

“And that Parker boy-”

“Giving him dating advice, I’m the next youngest so he can always come to me with problems.”

“Oh-”

“Yeah oh,” You ended it flatly, your hands in your pants pocket as you noticed the song changed to another slow rhythm, “So, would you like to dance?”

Loki looked at you, you had finally looked at him. There was a soft smile gracing your lips, there was no evident emotion to see if you were tricking him, nothing but genuine emotion. It was funny that the trickster was afraid of being tricked.

You held out your left hand out to him, he stares at it for a moment, his mind raced thinking what it was like to be touched by you, how soft your hands were going to be. But, an upwards curve appeared on his lips when he realises he didn’t need to think and wonder about it.

Grabbing your hand, you smile at the response.

“It would be my pleasure to dance with you, (Y/n).”

#Loki Laufeyson #loki x male!reader #x male reader #loki laufeyson imagine #Avengers #avenger imagines #avengers imagine

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errantknightess · 6 years ago

Text

Flavour of the day

Pairing: none // gen chocobros

Word count: 1,800

Summary: The saddest thing about Altissia is that the ice cream melts too fast

[Read on AO3]

The mild oceanic climate of Altissia was a lie. A merciless advertising scam, if Prompto were to be completely honest. They had maybe four hours in the morning before the temperature spiked way out of a tolerable range, and they never managed to drag Noct out of bed early enough to use that time. Now, a little past noon, the open bridges and plazas turned into a frying pan. Those smooth white walls might have looked like sculpted from snow, but up close they were almost scalding. Even the gentle breeze lifting from the canals didn’t help much. Prompto squinted at the waves lapping lazily at the sides of a passing gondola. What a heartless monster could build a city right on the water and then ban swimming?

“Guys, I think I’m dying,” he whined.

“If you can still think, surely it can’t be that bad.” Ignis’s voice was light and even, as if he hadn’t just climbed up and down a dozen flights of stairs under the blistering sun. Somehow, he still looked fresh as a daisy in his impeccable button-up; he barely rolled up his sleeves.

“Seriously!” Prompto wheezed, flopping against the bannister and flinching away just as quickly when the stone burned his bare arm. “Let’s find some shade before we all drop from heatstroke.”

Gladio snorted. He, at least, had the decency to sweat a bit.

“You climbed an active volcano and you can’t handle a little sun?”

“Easy for you to say, big guy. You’re not even wearing a shirt!”

“You can lose yours, too. Who’s stopping you?”

“No way, man!” Prompto tugged at his vest, flapping the thick denim in a vain attempt to fan himself with it. “This is my style. I can’t just ditch it!”

“If you say so.” Gladio clapped him on the back and walked past, into yet another sunlit street. Prompto followed him closely, trying to stay in the patch of shadow he cast and not be too obvious about it. Up ahead, Noct was already checking out his third fishing spot that day. This time, thank the gods, it was shaded.

“Dude, tell me this is a good place. I wanna stay here forever.” Prompto plopped down next to him, sprawling flat and boneless across the pier. The chilly paving against his skin was just about the best feeling ever. “Ugh, I feel like I’ve been cuddling with Ifrit.”

Noct nudged him with his foot, eyes never leaving the greenish depth before them.

“You okay?”

“I’ll live.” With a sigh, Prompto rolled over on his stomach to face the graceful buildings lining the other bank. The tall towers and colonnades piercing the clear blue sky shone like beacons, beckoning. Usually, watching Noct fish could get pretty boring – but not here. He could never get enough of those sights.

The camera appeared in his hands as soon as he thought of it, pure instinct at this point. He snapped a few shots right from where he sat, catching the whole waterfront panorama bit by bit. The sun was high, drawing deep shadows around the edges of carved facades and casting sparks off the rippling waves below. It hurt his eyes even through the viewfinder. With a flick of his hand, Prompto dismissed the camera back to the Armiger, but stayed on the lookout, drinking in the views all around.

Behind his back, the street opened into a small square, packed with people and bursting with colours. He spotted Ignis not far away, checking out some paintings at one of the stalls along the wall. Prompto’s eyes swept over the booths, over flowers and souvenirs – and stopped at something much more interesting.

“Hey, Noct!” he called, tapping his friend on the shin to get his attention. “Look!”

Noct didn’t look. Didn’t even look like he heard him. But Gladio did, and that was good enough.

“What is it?” he asked, in a tone that suggested anything would be better than sitting there and watching Noct lose the staring contest with the Cygillan Sea Bass. Prompto perked up, sending him a grateful glance behind their prince’s back.

“Over there.” He pointed to a stand at the far end, a little green cart with a glass lid and a sign that made his overheated heart sing with joy.

“Gelato?” Gladio peered at the letters with a thoughtful frown. “Might not be a bad idea. Hey, princess! Want some ice cream?”

Miraculously, Noct looked up at last, putting his rod away in a flash of blue light.

“Sure,” he said.

Prompto missed the shade as soon as they left the pier, but the closer they got to the cart, the more he became sure it was worth it. The mere sight of the overflowing tubs sparkling with frost on the edges made him feel cooler already.

“What have we here?” Ignis joined them in three quick strides, his eyes sharp as he studied the glass case.

“The ultimate Altissian dessert!” The nice older lady at the counter lit up with pride. “The same original recipe for over eighty years, in twenty three unique flavours. Care to get some, boys?”

“We gotta try, right?” Prompto looked pleadingly at his friends, even though the answer was obvious.

“Of course!” Ignis put on a small smile, the closest equivalent to giddy in his body language. “It would be a shame not to taste the local cuisine when the opportunity arises.”

The vendor gave him a little nod, clearly pleased to meet a fellow enthusiast of the craft. “What would you like, then?”

“The Veldorian wine sounds good.” Gladio looked up from the list on the display and dug in his pocket for loose change. “It says here it’s made with real wine, that true?”

“That’s right!” The vendor beamed at him as she handed him the cone. “Great choice, it’s one of our most popular flavours. What’s next?”

“Some of these seem rather unconventional.” Ignis tapped his chin, and it was plain to see he could barely keep himself from making notes right on the spot. “I’m feeling adventurous. Perhaps… Chocolate chili, please.”

Prompto whistled, camera at the ready. No way he could miss that expression.

“Whoa, Iggy! How’s that supposed to cool you down?”

The vendor smiled a knowing smile and passed Ignis his heaping scoop.

“Oh, it will do the job just fine, dear. And for you?”

“Man…” He could go cross-eyed looking at this rainbow of flavours. “So many choices… I have to think! Okay, okay, okay, ummm… Ulwaat berries?”

“Here you are.” And wow, that cone really deserved a photo, but Prompto was too afraid he’d drop it to risk maneuvering with the camera. He’d just have to treasure this memory forever in his mind.

“It’s so hard to decide, right?” He turned to Noct, stepping aside to make room for him in front of the display – but Noct didn’t even spare it a glance.

“Yeah,” he grunted and gave the vendor a slanted smile. “I don’t know. Surprise me.”

“Very well.” The vendor seemed surprised too, but she piled a generous scoop from a tub on the far end. “I hope you enjoy!”

Enjoy didn’t even start to describe it. As they weaved through the crowd, trying not to smear their precious treats onto passing people, Prompto felt closer to heaven with every second. Altissian gelato was so much better than the ice pops he’d had before – thick and creamy, and didn’t taste like licking the freezer door. There were even whole berries in it, too, bursting on his tongue like tiny bombs of vibrant flavour.

“This wine really packs a punch,” Gladio muttered, a praise he hardly ever doled out during training.

“Hope it doesn’t go to your head,” Prompto chuckled.

“No way. I’m not a lightweight like you to get drunk on a scoop of ice cream.”

“I dunno, dude. As our friend Dino would say, it’s a real big scoop.”

“Enough,” Gladio groaned and bit into his ice cream as if he wanted to freeze that pun out of his brain. Beside him, Ignis winced with abject horror.

“Have mercy, Gladio, this is no way to eat that.”

“What? This?” Gladio took another bite, looking him straight in the eye. Ignis squirmed, his face a perfect blend of misery and discomfort.

“Honestly. How can you stand doing this? Do try to savour it a little. Your teeth will thank you as well.”

Gladio’s teeth sank into the scoop again, unperturbed. “It’s faster this way.”

“Positively barbaric,” Ignis sighed fondly and reached to wipe a dollop of ice cream off Gladio’s nose. Gladio huffed, but didn’t stop him.

“What can I do, it’s good stuff.” He shrugged. “I’m not gonna wait for it to melt all over me like Prince Snoozy over here.”

Prompto glanced over to Noct, just in time to see a fat drop of ice cream slowly roll down the side of his cone.

“Watch out, Noct! You’re leaking!”

“Where?” Noct tipped his cone dangerously, and Prompto’s stomach twisted with fear for all that poor, beautiful ice cream.

“No, the other side! The other!”

“Don’t see it.”

“Dude.” Giving up, Prompto swooped in and licked the dripping bit before it could make a mess. Noct stared at him, barely restraining a smile.

“Gross,” he said flatly.

“Nah, it’s pretty good.” Prompto quickly turned back to his own cone to save it from sharing the same fate. “What is it, mango?”

“No idea.” Noct shrugged. “Didn’t see what she gave me.”

“I should taste it for you.” Gladio nudged him on the shoulder. “You know, just in case. It’s my duty as your Shield. Who knows what’s in it, right?”

Noct quickly moved his cone away from him.

“I’m halfway done with it already. Bit late for that.”

“Better safe than sorry.” Gladio leaned over and took a solid lick of Noct’s ice cream. “Hmmm, this is good. Hey, Iggy, give it a try!”

“I’m quite all right with my own, thank you.”

“No, Ignis, you should totally try it!” Prompto goaded, immediately catching on to that impish glint in Gladio’s eye. “Maybe you can figure out what flavour it is!”

“Yeah, and maybe it will inspire you for some new recipe.”

“You guys are horrible,” Noct decided, protectively stuffing half of his cone into his mouth.

“But that’s why you love us.” Prompto summoned his camera, mindless of the berry goop trickling over his fingers. He clicked the shutter button time and again, capturing Noct’s indignant face full of ice cream, Ignis stealing a lick from Gladio, all four of them with colourful smears over their smiles. They came out a bit blurry, with the blazing Altissian sun behind their backs, but it didn’t matter. Those were still some of the best shots he’d ever taken.

#ffxv #final fantasy xv #fanfiction #I gotta write more gen so my friends can actually read it

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stansbirdjigsaw · 7 years ago

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Snow day - a shitty reddie oneshot

(Heck I’m rlly sorry I don’t know how to make a post ‘read more’ so I’m just gonna have to post this whole thing here!! Sorry there’s so much text!)

Eddie was cold. Cold, and pissed off. He’d been supposed to meet Richie outside his house about half an hour ago, but the glasses-wearing loser was nowhere to be seen. It was an especially cold December morning, and Eddie was dressed like an eskimo, his thick fluffy parka layered over about three jumpers. He had his pink leg warmers on too, underneath his brown winter boots that were rimmed with fur. With his hat and scarf on and his hood up, one could almost mistake him for a girl. He hadn’t grown much since the age of thirteen; he was still tiny and skinny and feminine looking, which he hated, mainly because Richie was always teasing him for it. He supposed it didn’t help that he liked to wear girly clothes sometimes, but god damn it he loved the colour pink.

Finally, after what felt like forever, Richie appeared from around the corner, donned in a ragged army jacket, torn jeans and greying doc marten boots. He couldn’t look more like a hobo if he tried, but Richie simply claimed his look was “punk”. His cheeks were flushed pink and his nose was red and shining, like Rudolph.

“Eds!” Richie called out, running towards his friend. Eddie’s eyes widened and he took a step back, desperate to avoid making contact with the lanky trash mouth and his moth-eaten looking clothes. But the icey sidewalk was not in his favour, as he felt his feet slip from underneath him suddenly.

Eddie made a noise that sounded bizarrely like a cross between a velociraptor and a cat giving birth. He flailed his arms and felt himself slipping, his feet losing contact with the ground.

This was it, he thought. He was going to die, aged eighteen, the last sight he’d witnessed being that god damned trashmouth.

But funnily enough, that same god damned trashmouth was the one who came to his rescue, sweeping over surprisingly fast and catching him before he fell. “Holy shit Edward, you tryin’ do die?” Richie snorted, his arms around the smaller boy’s waist. Eddie tried to struggle away, but Richie kept a hold of him, only pulling back to ruffle his hair.

“You’re such a fuckin asshole Richie.” Eddie huffed, rolling his eyes and stepping even further back from the other. “You’re lucky the other guys put up with you, because if it was up to me I’d kick you out the club.” Eddie huffed, only partly meaning what he said.

“Wow Eds, that’s pretty harsh. And that’s the thanks I get for saving your life? Fine then.” He pushed Eddie suddenly, causing him to stumble, falling backwards and landing on his ass in the snow.

“R-Richie!” Eddie gasped, shivering. “I can’t believe you just fucking did that! I hate you!” Eddie lunged for Richie’s ankles, pulling him down besides him with a loud smack.

“MotherFUCKER!” Richie exclaimed as he hit the concrete, the snow only partly covering it. “Jesus Eds, you’re crazy!”

“You pushed me first, asshole!” Eddie crossed his arms in annoyance, not even attempting to stand up. He knew he’d only slip again, or worse, get pulled back down by Richie.

“Um, yeah, only because you were being a dick.” Richie stuck his tongue out, pulling Eddie towards him. The boy was shivering like a chihuahua, face painfully red.

“Eddie-Spaghetti, you’re so cold.” Richie frowned. “C’mere.” He pulled Eddie into his lap, pressing their foreheads together. Eddie resisted at first, but dang, Richie was pretty warm, and his lap was comfortable....

His thoughts were interrupted by a small kiss pressed to his lips. Richie tasted like bubblegum and soda. It would’ve been overly sweet, if it wasn’t for the taste of cigarettes that also blended in t his taste. Eddie kissed him back, hesitantly at first, but with more force once Richie ran a hand through his hair, tugging on it a little. Eddie let out a small moan, moving his hips against Richie in approval. The two weren’t dating, per say, but they did have a somewhat frequent habit of making out spontaneously, and ending up at each other’s houses, more specifically in their beds.

“You wanna go back to mine? My parents aren’t home~” Richie wiggled his eyebrows.

“Your parents are never home, dumbass.” Eddie rolled his eyes, but gave the other a small nod. “But okay. Only if we can have hot chocolate.”

“I only have chocolate. But I’m pretty hot, so I guess that makes up for it?” Richie winked, getting up before pulling Eddie to his feet. Eddie just sighed, taking the loser’s hand and dragging him down the street to his house. They loved each other really.

#reddie #fic #fanfic #richie tozier #eddie kasprak #it movie #it 2017 #losers club #finn wolfhard #ship #jack grazer #oneshot

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featherymalignancy · 7 years ago

Photo

You Are My Nothing: A Clace Angstfest

summary: Clary is a sophomore coping with the death of her mother. Jace poses a student to report her movements back to the anxious Council, who is desperate to find out if she is a pawn in her father's game. Despite the their directive that he not make contact, Jace develops a fascination with her that blossoms into something which threatens to destroy them both

tags: @keladrym99thefangirl @urbisie

link to part previous chapters: Part I

If you enjoy, please reblog!

Part II:

Clary stood in her cramped and overly-decorated dorm room, a curling wand in one hand in a cheap vodka cranberry in the other. Wincing, she took an ambitious swallow of the latter before setting it down and turning back to the mirror just someone knocked at the door.

"Who is it?" she called, glancing nervously down at the drink on her desk with the wand still wound in her coppery hair.

"Residence Life. The gig is up, Fray. Come out slowly with your hands up."

"It's open, Simon," Maia called in a bored voice for her bed, taking a sip of her own horrid drink before passing it to her girlfriend Jordan, who lay on the bed next to her.

"Do you have it?" Clary said excitedly when Simon entered, grinning.

"I have it," he affirmed. "Do you want to see?"

"Of course!" she said, setting down the wand and extending her hand.

Simon reached into his back pocket and drew out an id, handing it to her.

"Eric and I already tried ours and they work. This year is going to be so money."

Clary looked down at the Arizona driver's license with her own name and picture on it before her eyes slid to the birthdate.

"Twenty five?" she said, laughing. "No one is going to believe I'm twenty five!"

"With the right outfit they will," Jordan said.

"With the right outfit they won't care," Maia amended, tossing a lace bodysuit onto Clary's bed, which was already littering with clothes and bits of jewelry. "Wear this."

Clary held it up, and Simon laughed before being silenced by her glare.

"You're joking, right?" she said, though she was already turning to the mirror and holding it up.

"You have small tits," Maia said, taking the lollypop she'd been sucking on out of her mouth before taking a hearty swig of her watermelon vodka drink. "You'll be fine!"

"What do you think?" Clary said, turning to Simon. "Too much?"

"No," Simon protested. "Don't do 't treat me like your gay best friend. You know I have no idea."

"I found that comment offensive," Maia said lightly, smirk widening when Simon stuttered.

"It's hot, Fray," she continued. "C'mon, live a little!"

"I won't be living at all if my stepdad ever catches me wearing something like this," she said, imagining Luke's disapproving frown.

"Well good thing he doesn't party in the Village, then," Jordan said, and Maia laughed.

"The colour is nice," Simon added lamely, and Jordan and Maia both laughed again.

"Well done, Queer Eye! Now get out here so Clary can change."

Simon rolled his eyes. Clary and Maia had been roommates for a year now, and he was accustomed to, if not totally accepting of, being treated like this.

"We're leaving in ten minutes," he said. "Please tell me you'll be ready by then."

"She will be if you stop distracting her," Jordan pointed out, and Simon rolled his eyes and left, letting the door click shut behind him.

Clary tossed the id onto her purse before stripping off her leggings, tee-shirt, and bra and taking the jumpsuit Maia had given her.

"So any hot guys you like this year?" Maia asked as Clary shimmied into the bodysuit. "You love life is so tragic."

"Or how about hot girls?" Jordan added.

"You two are the hottest girls I'll ever need," Clary said, struggling into high waisted jeans now. She had to admit it did look good.

"That's sweet," Maia said. "But evasive. Give us the dirt, Fray."

Clary considered, turning back to the mirror to finish curling her hair.

"Hot guys? Of course. Hot guys I like? No."

"I think I'm too gay to understand the distinction," Jordan admitted. "What's the difference? They'll all just meat sacks anyway; honestly, how anyone could want to date a man, I'll never understand."

"Someday I'll explain it to you," Maia offered, patting her hand and making Jordan frown. She and Maia had been dating seriously for a while now, but before Jordan, Maia had mostly dated guys, and she contended that she fell in love with personalities, not body parts. "And you're still evading the question, Clary."

Clary rolled her eyes, giving her curls and artful tousle before stepping into thick heeled booties.

"I mean of course there are tons of attractive guys around, just none I'm specifically interested in. For instance, there is fratstar Adonis in my—"

"Adonis!" Maia interrupted saucily. "Tell us more!"

"Nothing to tell," Clary said. "He's literally always staring at me, but he hasn't said a single word to me all semester."

"Creepy," Jordan said, as if Clary's anecdote had somehow confirmed her theory about the male sex being worthless.

"Annoying," Clary amended. "It's surprisingly hard to focus when someone is always looking at you."

"Maybe he's just shy," Maia pointed out, and Clary gave a bitter laugh

"He's not."

"How do you know? You've never even spoken to him."

"He has that look," Clary said in explanation.

"Look?" Jordan and Maia asked, both rising and finishing their drinks now.

"You know, 'I'm a Ferrari, wanna take me for a spin?'"

Maia laughed and Jordan gagged.

"Today, Fray!" Simon called through the door, and Maia laughed again.

"Keep your panties on, Lewis, we're coming!"

"Finally, we get to have some fun," Isabelle said. "Which one?"

She held up two equally skimpy dresses.

"You went out last night," Alec pointed out in a sour voice. "And who cares? Let's just go already."

"Technically it's Jace's turn to babysit her, so if you're going to be a pill about it, you can go without me."

Jace gave a snort of amusement as she huffed past Alec and stalked back to her own small bedroom.

"And you?" Alec demanded, whirling on Jace.

"I'm ready," Jace said, catching sight of his reflection and admiring himself in it. "I'm always ready."

"Not you, too," Alec said in a growl as Jace ran a hand through his pomaded hair, assuring it was still all perfectly in place.

"Iz is right, you know," Jace said. "It's not good to be this wound up all the time."

Alec rolled his shoulders in irritation.

"Let's just focus on the mission."

"I doubt the Circle is going to be lying in wait at a college dive. And look on the bright side: if they are, you'll probably get to stab someone."

Jace tossed Alec a small dagger he tucked into the interior pocket of his leather jacket. They'd be instructed not to wear gear and to cover their marks while they were undercover, but even directives from the Clave hadn't been enough to get Alec out of black.

"Why don't you relax a little, hm?" Jace asked, bracing Alec's shoulder and giving a manly but affectionate squeeze.

Alec's eyes glittered as they met Jace's, and he quickly shrugged out of his touch.

"Today, Iz," he called instead, using the opportunity to turn away from Jace. "Please."

As if on cue, Isabelle's door swung open to reveal she'd donned a new outfit, which was little more than a bustier and hot pants.

Alec groaned, eliciting a grin from Isabelle.

"Love me as I am, brother darling," she purred, raising her eyebrows at Jace and making him laugh.

"We ready?" he asked, slipping into a slim bomber jacket.

"What's got you so excited?" Isabelle asked, and Jace laughed off her keen observation.

"I'm just ready for a drink."

"We shouldn't be drin—"

"Oh enough already, Alec!" Isabelle snapped. "Besides, we're supposed to be blending in, remember?"

They arrived at Artica Bar in Midtown about five minutes later, all three looking around for Clarissa. It was a sleek pub on the East side about fifteen minutes by train from the Village, but it was famous among NYU students for being lax about ids, and had quickly become the year's hot spot. A hypnotic pop song was blaring when they entered the crowded space, and the worn oak floorboards were already slick with cheap beer.

Jace grit his teeth, knowing it would ruin the leather of his new chukka boots. It was annoying enough that he had to constantly dress like a Mundane; he preferred not to look like a slob as well.

They were surrounded be a sea of nubile girls and fresh-faced guys, all of whom eyed each other hungrily. Jace's eyes flitted over the banquet with minimal interest. There were some beautiful girls here, no denying it, but it was nothing he hadn't seen and had a million times already. Besides, he was a hunter, born and bred, and it was the pursuit he craved. Except for Isabelle, there had never been a girl he'd liked better after getting to know her, and she was like his sister, so that didn't even really count.

The rest, whatever substance lay beyond the winning, wasn't meant for him. Jace's father had meticulously broken and reforged him, hammering away weakness the way a smith hammered impurities from hot steel. It was this temperance than had made him the warrior he was, but he'd been irreparably damaged in the making, and to love, to be loved in return, was something he'd never experience. That was just as well; from what he could see, love only ever caused blindness and pain, anyhow. Besides, as far as consolation prizes went, sex without feelings felt like a pretty decent one to Jace.

"Do you see her yet?" Isabelle asked, craning her neck.

"No," Alec said. "How do you know she'll be here?"

"I overheard her—"

Jace wasn't listening. Instead, he watched a buxom brunette walk by and found himself errantly wondering how good it would feel to bury his face in her pillowy chest. Jace was all about a stacked upper half. She noticed him looking and flashed a coy smile, but before he could return the gesture, someone stomped on his foot. hard.

"Focus, J, c'mon!" Isabelle demanded.

"I am!' he protested, wincing slightly. "That doesn't mean I can't enjoy the scenery. You're acting like you just walked into a Circle meeting. No, worse than that; you're acting like Alec."

Alec scowled at this use of his name as an insult before turning his back to Jace.

"There she is."

Alec gestured, and Jace had to clench his jaw to keep it from hanging open. She wore a lace bodysuit cut the the breastbone, which hugged her slim frame and gave the suggestion of cleavage where there wouldn't have been otherwise. The purplish-gray of it looked good against her creamy skin and copper hair. She was wearing high waisted jean trousers on the bottom, and Jace found himself fighting the almost unconscious urge to squeeze her shapely little arse. If he'd thought she was attractive in leggings and loose sweaters, she'd become distractingly so now.

"Stop staring, Jace!" Isabelle said, trying to elbow him in the ribs this time. However, he was too quick, and he snapped her wrists into vices as they mock grappled.

"Cut it out, you two," Alec said in warning, surreptitiously drawing his stele and placing a hearing rune on his hand so he could hear Clary's conversation with the tall stranger next to her.

"Oh relax, Alec, she's just talking to a boy." Isabelle glanced over. "A cute boy."

"What are they saying?" Jace asked, forcing his voice to sound almost bored. In reality, he felt an annoying prick at watching them.

"Don't be jealous," Isabelle said in a sing-song voice, and he flashed her a foul hand gesture.

"Here," Alec said, annoyed at their banter. He handed Jace the stele, who copied the rune.

"I like your hair," the tall boy was saying.

Clarissa pushed some of it behind her ear, but it wasn't a nervous gesture; for a 19 year old, she had a refreshing self-assurity about her. No, if anything, she was trying to keep her curls out of his reach.

"Thanks," she said simply.

"Is it natural?" the boy pressed, and Jace fought not roll his eyes. In his experience, Mundane men had the worst pick-up lines.

"Yes," she said, sounding a touch annoyed.

"I don't believe you," he flirted back, either missing or choosing to ignore her tone. "You might have to prove it."

Clary wrinkled her nose in confusion.

"Ignore him, Clary," a dark-skinned girl cut in. Jace recognised her from the files as Maia Roberts, the roommate. "He's asking if the carpet match the drapes." She turned and gave the boy a look so sour it could have curdled milk. "Pro tip, Shakespeare: next time you try and woo a girl, leave her pubic hair out of it."

At this Clarissa—no, Clary, Jace corrected himself mentally—gave the boy an equally disgusted faced before stalking off after Maia.

"Wow, these Mundy guys are so charming," Alec said in a dry voice to Isabelle. "I can see why you like them so much."

She rolled her eyes. Clary was now on the far side of the lower bar, talking animatedly to Simon Lewis. She'd gone out of range of the small rune, and Jace was sorely tempted to use another even knowing they weren't discussing anything important. He found, with surprise, that he was suddenly somewhat desperate to talk to her himself. Maybe it was the bodypsuit—he was a guy, after all—or maybe it was the confidence and self-possesion she'd shown in turning down that clown who'd just hit on her, Jace didn't know. All he did know was that the Clave and it's rule could go sit on a stele, because he was done playing the perimetre; he had to go in.

"Now that she's all settled in with the Mundy boyfriend," he said in feigned disinterest. "Let's sit down and have a drink. What do you want? I'll buy the first round."

"French 75," Isabelle said, and Jace rolled his eyes. "Iz, this isn't a cocktail bar."

"Fine," she huffed, momentarily distracted as a well-muscled black man walked by. "A rum and coke, then."

"Alec?"

"Just water."

"Rum and coke and a vodka soda," Jace said with purpose, making Alec groan. "Be right back."

Jace gracefully descended the stairs towards the lower bar as Isabelle and Alec retreated to a booth at the other end of the space. Jace caught sight of Clary easily, and suppressed a grin when he say she was at the bar, alone. Arcing behind her, he casually pushed forwards, positioned himself half a foot or so behind her, and braced for impact.

Clary handed the bartender a ten and waved off charge as he handed her a gin and tonic. She took a grateful sip before turning and bumping into someone solid, sloshing some of her drink on his leather boots.

"I'm so sorry—" she began as she looked up, but the words died as she glanced at his face. "It's you."

She stared up the blonde from Art History, trying to ignore how much sexier he seemed now that she was a little drunk. He flashed her an easy, winning grin.

"I didn't realise you were looking for me, otherwise I'd have come sooner."

She pursed her lips. He had a low, smooth voice touched by just the slighest accent, like someone who'd been born abroad and raised in The States.

"Thats not what I mean," she said quickly. "I just—we have a class together."

The grin widened, his teeth almost blinding against his tan skin.

"Do we?" he queried politely, and she folded her arms across her chest, getting annoyed now. She noticed his eyes flick down to cleavage (or lack thereof) momentarily. She felt herself grow more annoyed when the gesture send a jolt of warmth to her stomach.

"You know we do," she bit out. "You're always staring at me."

He laughed to indicate she'd caught him in a lie, and she couldn't decide if the sound was alluring or irritating.

"That's kind of an ugly word, isn't it?" he said, amber eyes dancing across her face. "How about 'observing'?"

She met his flirtatious gaze with a hard one of her own.

"Alright, busted," he admitted, voice undulating slightly with the accent; her mother was from England, so Clary was very attuned to accents. "Look, it's a boring class, and I like those cartoons you draw. You're very talented."

She laughed despite herself.

"It's not that boring!"

He gave her knowing look, and she unexpectedly laughed harder.

"Oh come on. 'the difference between Venetian and Tuscan painting can be simplified in two words: colorito v. disegno'," he said in imitation of their haggard professor, making her laugh a third time. "Besides," he continued. "The only way to learn about the Renaissance Masters is to see their works in situ."

"I guess I wouldn't know," Clary admitted. "I've never been out of the country."

The boy grinned, and there was something heady and dangerous in his eyes that made Clary want to tip forward into them.

"Then maybe it's time someone showed you the world."

She didn't want to give any ground to a line like that, but the way he'd said it, as if it were simply a fact and not an innuendo, was oddly powerful. However, unwilling to give him the satisfaction of knowing it had worked, she simply laughed instead.

"Shining, shimmering, splendid?" she shot back in what she hoped was a coy voice.

His brows knit together as he smiled in confusion.

"Sorry?"

This made her laugh. She thought everyone knew that line.

"I just mean, you basically just invited me to Europe with you, but I don't even know your name yet."

At this, his eyes glittered.

"Jace," he said, extending a slender hand. She glanced at it, the square nails neatly trimmed and the fingers unadorned, saved for a cignet ring on his index finger. It was an incongruous with the rest of his sleek look—the dark fitted jeans, the distractingly tight white t-shirt, and black suede bomber jacket—but it oddly suited him.

"Clary," she replied, sliding her hand into his. As she did, an electric bolt shot up her arm, and she had to bit back a yelp of surprise. She could feel like buzzing in her fingertips even as they let go, and it was giving her a pleasant head rush.

"Lovely to meet you, Clary," he said, eyes glittering again. Jesus, he was just so attractive. She suddenly found herself hoping with abandon that he was thinking the same thing about her. She opened her mouth to say something and salvage what remained of her pride when someone bumped into Jace from behind, sending him flying into Clary.

The drink Clary seemed to have forgotten she'd been holding splashed in rather fantastic fashion down her front as Jace fell into her, and he tried not to stare as the tonic soaked the thin material, clinging to her chest. He looked quickly away as he shred his own jacket for her to wear, but he couldn't deny a stirring in his lizard brain at seeing her pert nipples peaked through the fabric.

"I'm so sorry," he fumbled with uncharacteristic awkwardness. "Here."

"It's not your fault," she assured him, setting down the empty glass. "No, it's fine, I don't want to steal your jacket."

"Please, I insist," he said, still unsure where do look.

"I guess I don't really have a choice," she conceded with a laugh, taking the coat from him and sliding her arms through. "Thanks."

He watched her inhale the scent of it when she thought he wasn't looking, and it made his stomach tighten pleasantly.

"Now you have an excuse to sit next to me on Monday," he said, raising his eyebrows. "Clever girl."

"Me?" she laughed, readjusting the jacket. "You're the one who tripped!"

"I didn't trip," he said haughtily. "I never trip."

"Are you saying you did this on purpose, then?" she said in flirtatious challenge, jade eyes more storm-tossed in the low light of the bar.

"Clarissa, I would never," he said, and there was more yearning in his tone that he'd thought himself capable of, escalating the tension from playful to something languid and more dangerous.

"I should go," she said, though not sounding particularly enthusiastic about the prospect. "This shirt isn't mine, so—"

"Of course," he said, flashing what he hoped was a easy, careless grin. "See you Monday."

She smiled, and there was something in it that made Jace want to give everything up and live as a Mundane beside her.

"Nice to meet you."

She disappeared towards the washroom, at which point Jace turned to find the asshole who'd bumped him. Maybe he'd punch him in the face; it'd been an age since he'd had a proper fight. However, when he turned, it was to find a familiar figure standing behind him. Alec's expression was stony.

"Really?"

previous chapter

#clace #clary fray #clary fairchild #jace wayland #jace herondale #shadowhunters #nephilim #sebastian morgenstern #clebastian #jonathan hero #jonathan morgenstern #valentine morgenstern #jocelyn fairchild #alec lightwood #isabelle lightwood #the mortal instruments #cassandra clare

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poetic-sinema · 4 years ago

Text

Semblance: Eight

A/N: It is a number of years later when Lou Taenaka encounters her former guitar instructor. He is still as calm and collected, but the semblance of attraction is undeniable.

A Myles Kennedy student/teacher fanfic.

Warnings: It’s trash

Words: 1292

“Where were you last night?” I turned to Eric; he had his arms crossed over his chest, his eyes still intently staring at the book on his lap. He’d ignored me since I met him at the gates, greeting me with nothing more than a glance and refused to take off his headphones while we waited together in silence. If this was anything, it was progress.

“Have you decided to talk to me, now?” I asked, my tone teasing. He didn’t take to my demeanor too well as he glared down at me.

I opted to shrug down back into my seat rather than meet his biting gaze and continued, “An old friend was in town and she’d ask me to join her drinking. I promise, I wanted to call you to inform you, but by the time I’d gotten to her place I’d made the mistake of forgetting about it.”

I was blatantly lying through my teeth mostly due to knowing that he’d probably make a full report back to both James and Bran in addition to probably exiling me to Cold Shoulder Island if I’d told the truth. He was one of those guys who’d believed that other guys probably just wanted to hurt his little sister. Bran included when it came to his real little sister. Letting him know that I was with a female companion was pretty much doing him much more of a favor than it was me.

“I’m sorry.” I apologized, looking to him.

Eric sighed, his shoulders relaxing for the first time in the three hours we were flying, “You know why we worry about you,” He reasoned, resting the palm of his hands on the back of my head like I was a child. As an older brother himself, Eric was an expert at making one feel guiltier for making him upset than the average person. It was possibly the only trait he inherited from Bran that made me despise him.

“Look,” I said, gathering my head in my hands, “I’m 24. I’m turning 25 in a couple of months. I’ve grown up; I’m no longer 16 anymore. Don’t you think that I have, to a certain degree, more control over myself?”

“You know that’s not what we mean when we do this, Lou.”

“Yeah, but what happened, happened,” Eric tensed up again as I raised my voice, “I went back to school, I studied harder, hell, I’ve been managing my own a damn shop for what has been three years now. I’m no longer that person, but it feels like I’m being smothered with worry-“

I caught myself, realizing how much of a child I was being. If anything, I should have been thankful for their constant worry. I wouldn’t have had to go through my twenties without the push that my brothers gave me, Eric included.

“Fuck, man,” I sighed, wiping my face clean of frustration, “I’m sorry.”

Eric lifted the armrest that separated us and pulled me to him, “Don’t be.”

The thing I love about Korean weddings, all three that I had been included in anyway, was that older Korean women were the most welcoming bunch that you could meet. They were so family oriented that there isn’t even an air of awkwardness, you can blend in almost immediately.

Most of the women in the family had gathered in the Moon household in preparation for the wedding. They were all equally divided into purposes; one group darting about giving the bridal room a final spring clean before the big day whilst the others gathered into a circle in the living room, one half making Korean dumplings and the other making kimchi. Eric seemed to be the lone ranger in this house; his mum had him stay back before to assist (i.e. bully) them before he could escape her grasp. His father had been luckier.

“So how’s the bakery doing?” Mrs. Moon asked, taking the bit of dumpling I’d previously folded and doing it over. It seems that my skills in this kitchen was doing more harm than good.

“It’s doing well, not exactly streaming in with customers, but we’re holding up. We’ve found a lot of regulars who work around the area so they drop in for morning coffee and a baguette, but most of the other customers seem to stem from tourists.” I explained, “Should I really be doing this?”

“Darling, you’ve wanted to do this all your life, but if it has come to a point where you don’t find passion in it anymore, then I say leave it,” She said, making a gesture with her hands, “It’s gonna kill you rock solid if you continue.”

“I was actually talking about the mandu,” I grinned, holding up what could have only been a deformed dumpling on the tips of my fingers, “But, okay, that gives a perspective.”

“Oh sweetheart.” She sighed, taking away my lone prize. Korean food was a next level of intricate, one I thought I’d mastered by the end of the six years I stayed in Korea, but apparently not.

“Gramma!” We could almost hear the smile on Eric’s face as he bellowed from down the hall.

After a quick rustling of footsteps, he appeared in front of us and announced, “Guys, it’s Gramma!”

The old woman toddled behind him, taking slow steps as she ascended upon her grandchild and smacked him across the head, “Yah, help me with my things.”

Grandma Moon was a constant appearance in our lives when Eric was in school. Since his parents were constantly busy with work, they could, at most, have visited him twice in a school year. And thus Grandma Moon came in replacement, bearing gifts of all kinds, and fed me silly whenever my parents had her over.

“Look at you now, you’ve grown!” She exclaimed as I got up to greet her. Her age seemed to show when she walked, but the robustness in her voice made up for all else. She was a character, this woman.

“Aigoo, it must have been almost a year since I last saw you.” She said, setting down her things in front of her and made herself comfortable next to me. Eric parked himself in the space in front of us uncovering the many things she’d brought over and like a child given candy, he seemed amazed at all the things he saw.

“We can use some of these fabrics for the bridal room.” Grandma Moon suggested, holding up rolled up pieces of multi coloured cloth between her fingers to show to her daughter.

“I like this one.” Eric pointed to the paisley pattern in ivory in front of him.

“Then you should find yourself a wife and we can decorate your room in that.” Grandma teased.

I snickered as he playfully glared at me.

“I refuse to have this conversation,” He complained, “Lou, it’s getting late, I better send you back to the hotel.”

“No,” I refused, “I wanna watch your grandma make fun of you longer.”

Eric didn’t take too kindly to my words, snarling at me as I laughed, putting my head down on grandma’s shoulder. My own grandmother died long before I was born so I’d always treated Grandma Moon like my own – she was the epitome of a strong woman, and all I had wanted to do when I was younger was to grow old like her.

“Let her stay,” Grandma patted me on the head as I stuck out my tongue to the older man, “Maybe then she would stay forever.”

I had never seen Eric flush so red before in the entire time that I’d known him, but tonight bears a first. He recovered quickly though, and snorted, “She wishes.”

#Semblance a fanfiction

0 notes

tellywoodtrash · 7 years ago

Text

ishqbaaz/dbo 29.05.17 lb

plain text version here.

om stop glaring at my girl. don’t make me yank your tiny ponytail. 😠😠😠

husband wife hug ke alaawa aur bhi bohut kuch karte hai, woh bhi kabhi kiya karo!!!!!! che mahine se hug pe hi suiii atki hui hai tumhari, pfffft. 😒😒😒

but i’m dying @ how he keeps going back for hugs and encouraging her to hug him so that “they can see it’s normal!” ugh, this adorable asshole. 😭😭😭

yeah ok who died and made you the foremost expert on marriage and relationships, shivaay? 🙄🙄🙄

apni shaadi toh theek se sambhali nahi jaa rahi, dusron ko gyaan deta phir raha hai. 😑😑😑

lmaoooooo the boys are scared of anika’s cooking after her paneer fiasco. 😂😂😂😂

ek packet maggi ke liye ITNAAAAAA excitement aur drama. pffft. 🙄🙄🙄

goddamnit, just merge the fucking shows into one already. i need shivaay and gauri to be able to hang outtttt everydayyyy. 😩😩😩

lmaoooo ok, the girls are GOING for it. aw man, i miss rudra. he’d have been on theirrrrr teammmm. 😊😊😊

let om go back to dbo, but can we have gauri here please? pleaseee???? i need to see her to be here with anika and shivaayyyy. 👸🏽👸🏽👸🏽

i am kinda side-eyeing buamaa’s saccharine love for these two now that she mightttt be shady. 😐😐😐

OUFF SOMEONE CHOOSE SOMETHING. 😒😒😒

cause of death: shivaay waking up and feeling around for anika on the bed, before even opening his eyes. 💀💀💀

god, that kurta and his fluffy hair makes him look absolutely delicious. i could spread him on toast and just NOM. 😍😍😍

such a cute top she’s wearing, but ugh, this weird table cloth kinda crap on top of it is ruining everything. 😣😣😣

please shivaay, you’re the un-jhel-able one here. do i need to remind you how many women ran out on your ass on your wedding day? 😑😑😑

TELL HIM, GIRLLLLLLL. 😚😚😚

YAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! 🙌🏽🙌🏽🙌🏽

like, romance and all is fine, but in scenes like this, i can’t help but think of the morning breath situation. ok i’ll stfu and just enjoy the sexy. 🤐🤐🤐

“toh jaao na, anika.”

hahahahahha, fuck me. 😧😧😧

here lies tellywoodtrash, killed by the sexiest fucking whisper i’ve ever heard in my not-so-short life. in lieu of flowers, please buy my cat some cat food instead, thanks. 😽😽😽

OMG JUST FUCKING KISS HIM GIRL, LOOK AT HIM ALL SEXY AND SLEEP RUFFLED AND HOARSE VOICED. HONESTLY, WHAT ARE YOU EVEN MADE OF!?!?!? 😲😲😲

ok the fuck, she has to wear that in the evening, asshole. will you iron it for her? yeah i didn’t thinkkkkk so. ok sorry, i’ll stfu again and try to enjoy the sexy. 🤐🤐🤐

anika really seems into his sexy clothes throwing though. maybe she doesn’t hate ironing as much as i do. 😕😕😕

"mat likhwana. biwi toh phir bhi meri hi rahogi.”

this cocky bastardddddddd. 😯😯😯

snort. narcissist. 😆😆😆

but omggggg his adorableeeeeeeee smileeeeeee. 😍😍😍

ugh, they’re so fucking cute, i can’t. i just can’t. let me just savourrrrrrrrr these moments, knowing the shitstorm that is comingggg. 😫😫😫

OUFF NO I DON’T CARE ABOUT RONDHU GIRL. GO BACK TO BADE BHAIYYA AND BHAUJAIIII BEING SEXY. 😑😑😑

lol maaaan, their love story is so fucking contriveddd. 🙄🙄🙄

whyyyyyyy is she always cryinggggggggggg? like, girl, come on. 😒😒😒

rudy boy, honestly, i thought you had smoother moves than THIS. like... this is BS desi stalker “do you wanna make frandship with me” shit. 😟😟😟

OK YES YOU HAVE RIPPED OFF ALL OF HUM DIL DE CHUKE SANAM IN THESE 3 MINUTES. STOP ALREADY. 😒😒😒

ohhhhh god noooooooo, return of thisssssss horrible outfit. i haaaaate that stupid collar. 😫😫😫

god pinkyyyyy. you’re the worsttttt. 😡😡😡

no the mehendi colour is contingent on HUSBAND’s pyaar actually. so fuck off pinky. 😤😤😤

siiiiiiiiiiigh. my poor girl. sach bol bhi nahi sakti is mummeh ke bete ko, jhoot bhi nahi bol sakti. *hugs her* 😔😔😔

“mehendi mein mera hi naam likhwaana.”

achcha hua tumne bol diya. nahi toh padosi ka naam likhwaane jaa rahi thi. 😂😂😂

“sirf hum dono hi ek dusre ko jhel sakte hai.”

truth. you’re both freaks. please let the rest of us normals live. 😌😌😌

aw, his little eyebrow raise. ugh. nakuul is killing me today man. 😍😍😍

also killing me, in a not good way? his fucking sherwani. like it’s bad enough i had to watch him wear this once, BUT TWICE?????? the fuck. 😑😑😑

oh anika, you naive fooool. just murder the old bat already. 😠😠😠

lol does the chai have glucose biscuit in it today or not? 😋😋😋

not. 😂😂😂

ugh fuckkkkkkkk you om. now does she have to taste test every fucking drink she brings you? 😒😒😒

god, what an asshole. GIRL COULD YOU JUST LEAVEEEEEEEEE HISSSS ASSSSSSSS????? 😣😣😣

waaaah, kameeni bhi idhar colour coordinated hai. 😌😌😌

ohhhhh great, another zabardasti ki shaadi. 😠😠😠

HE’S THE FUCKING ACP!!!! HOW THE FUCK IS HE GONNA FORCE HER INTO MARRYING????? LIKE??? 😯😯😯

er... what? what gang? 🤔🤔🤔

ppl with guns crashing wedding and shooting in the air, classic UP wedding. 😊😊😊

LMAO GOGGLE GANG HAHAHAHAHA 😂😂😂😂😂

ohhh goggle gang dude, you messed with the wrongggggggg cry baby. 😎😎😎

ugh. pinkyyyyyyyyy. 😠😠😠

but acid would form a separate layer when poured on oil and it’d be really obvious????? 🤔🤔🤔

dulhe ki behen has new clothes, dulhan is still wearing puraane kapde from her husband’s wedding to some other chick. best. 😒😒😒

LMFAO WHAT THE FUCK EVEN, BHAVYA???? 😂😂😂

uske upar this CRAZY KIYA RE ka soundtrack. the cherry on top of the WTF sundae that is this scene. 😆😆😆

ouff rudra, you’re suchhhh a loser. 🙄🙄🙄

it’s ridiculous to see om all happy happy like this in some scenes, when he doesn’t want these ceremonies to be carried out. like... character consistency please???? 😐😐😐

ugh, we’re entering the #drama portion of the night. do i absolutely haaaave to watch? can’t i just watch the first 20 minutes again??? 😩😩😩

... can shivaay have ONE normal mehendi function in his life without the damn thing being spiked with acid? 😣😣😣

okaaaaaaaaaaay, abrupttttt scene change. 😶😶😶

YO THIS GIRL LEGIT LOOKS LIKE AMRAPALI. 😯😯😯

lmaooooooooooooo anika’s CUT THE BS face. 😂😂😂

ouff this whole BS is so predictable. pinky will accuse anika of fucking with the mehendi. and a whole lot of yelling and trying to make shivaay pick a side. ughhhhhhhhh. 😑😑😑

yupppppp. 🙄🙄🙄

WAIT. RATHORE. ACP RATHORE. was she the one who was supposed to originally investigate that case from eons ago, and ranveer came instead??? 😯😯😯

also - wow. three names, woh bhi rajput. she’s a 4 Lions Hero. 😏😏😏

yes ok you’re a badass and all, but i still don’t think you’re right for my rudy boy. 😐😐😐

aaaaaaaand we’re off with the nightly #OberoiSlam 😒😒😒

prinku, can you ever be anything but THE FUCKING WORST? CAN YOU AT LEAST FUCKING TRY? gawdddddd. jab bolna hota hai, tab toh mooh nahi kholti. kholti hai toh aise chutiyape ke liye. 😠😠😠

ohhhhhh hoooooo, so much yelllling. 😫😫😫

shivaay, dude, it’s time to look into expanding the business abroad. just take the wife and fucking go live somewhere else for a few years, thanks. 😌😌😌

om’s face is screaming “thank god i live in the alternate universe. i can’t take this shit on a daily basis.” 😂😂😂

BRO THE SCENE CHANGES ARE SO FUCKING ABRUPT; I WAS LIKE WHAT THE F IS THE FUCKING POLICE DOING HERE FOR THIS MEHENDI WAALA ISSUE. 😟😟😟

ouffffffff not feeling this stupid love story at all. if anything, this badass lady cop deserves someone smarter than rudra? 😗😗😗

same, girl. same. #theseDogsAintShit 🙄🙄🙄

ohhhhhh great. from a good acp, to this lameass one who is the worst. at everything. 😒😒😒

WHEN THE FUCK ARE PPL GOING TO STOP BEING ABLE TO WALTZ INTO THIS HOUSE AS THEY PLEASE????? WHERE THE F IS KHANNA? 😡😡😡

her nose looks back to normal now. dude i don’t get it. 🤔🤔🤔

also, they’re already in the middle of one ‘kid in-law’ crisis right now. take a number and wait your turn, bro. 😝😝😝

ohhhhhhhhhh boy. what mission? what are they going to use him for? he’s an OBEROI. not really the most low key dude you can just blend into the crowds with. 😕😕😕

oufffffffff yahan pe yeh khatam nahi hua? 🙄🙄🙄

goddddddd. why can’t my girl catch a fucking break? she was so fucking excited for her mehendi. 😭😭😭

you’re consoling the wrong fucking personnnn, shivaay. he doesn’t even WANT the rasm to happen. 😑😑😑

om having to do shivaay’s emotional labour, aaaaaah it’s just like the old days! 😊😊😊

goddddd ranveeeeeeeer you’re such a fucking psychoooooo. FUCKING LET GO OF HER. 😡😡😡

COZ SHE’S A DECENT FUCKING HUMAN BEING WHO HATES UNNECESSARY BLOODSHED, YOU ASSHOLE. 😤😤😤

don’t fall for it prinku. DON’T FUCKING FALL FOR IT. 😩😩😩

WHAT IS WITH THIS FUCKING UNIVERSE AND JUST... LIKE THIS IS NOT HOW MARRIAGE WORKS, YOU ASSHOLES, ON A PURELY LEGAL STANDPOINT (LET’S NOT EVEN GO INTO THE EMOTIONAL), THIS IS NOT HOW IT WORKS!!!! 😫😫😫

OH THANK GOD FOR SHIVAAY!!!!!!!!!!!!!! 🙏🏽🙏🏽🙏🏽🙏🏽🙏🏽🙏🏽

YAAAAAAAS. BEAT THE SNOT OUT OF HIM SHIVAAY!!!!! 👏🏽👏🏽👏🏽

WHY THE FUCK ARE YOU NOT HELPING, OM? 😒😒😒

i mean, yes good, hold prinku back. that’s a form of helping too, i guess. i’d prefer if you used your sculptor guns to sculpt him a new face tho. 😗😗😗

lmao, all i gotta say to gauri is welcome to the fam, girl!!!!! 😂😂😂

anika, can you just STFU???? why do you keep talking crap when it’s not the time???? let him deal with his stupidass never-learns-her-goddamn-lesson sister as he sees fit. 😑😑😑

OH NO, PINKY KAMEENI TEAM UP. OH NO OH NO OH NO! 😟😟😟

and omg yaaaaaaaaas, finally, tender!Omkara channeling his best ASR with the choodiyaan. 😊😊😊

#ishqbaaz #ishqbaaaz #dil bole oberoi #dil boley oberoi #ib episode liveblogs #dbo episode liveblogs #episode liveblogs #290517 ib lb

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