#neil mccormick x reader

[its-my-little-dumpster-fire]

This is where the Dumpsterflames are kindled.

Billy Russo   

.......... (The Punisher, 2017-2019)

Caspian X     

.......... (Prince Caspian, 2008, Voyage of the Dawn Treader, 2010)

John Whittaker     

.......... (Easy Virtue, 2008)

Josh Sawyer    

.......... (Locked In, 2010)

Logan Delos    

.......... (Westworld, 2016)

Neil McCormick     

.......... (Killing Bono, 2011)

Ryan Brenner    

.......... (Jackie & Ryan, 2014)

Samuel Adams     

.......... (Sons of Liberty, 2015)

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E  V  E  N  T  S

MYSTERY DRABBLE EVENT

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F U N K O P O P C U S T O M S

[miss-kittys-magical-library]

I Want To Break Free

(Ivan Mccormick x Reader)

Word Count- 860

Warnings- A bit of spice and angst, tentative masturbation (m!receiving), loads of making out

A/N- You and your lips only want what’s best for Ivan. Lovely @070188 requested kissing prompts: 7. passionate kisses, 14. kissing each other breathless and 29. hushed conversation in-between kisses

You hid back in the shadows until you saw the band pass by. Neil with his stupid Tommy Lee rip-off hair and a smug smile on his face while Gloria hung off his arm. You could admit that even though he stifled Ivan, he made your sister deliriously happy. She even started talking about marriage of all things. You rolled your eyes heavily at the thought.

Lost in your thoughts you almost let Ivan slip away. You reached out from the dark for his waist so you could tug him towards you. He spun around. The minor panic behind his eyes turned easily to desire.

Ivan scooped you up in his arms so that you stood on your tiptoes. His hands ran down your back and ass. He squeezed playfully. You squealed with delight before you slid your own into his back pockets to pull his hips into yours.

Carnal instinct took over, and Ivan started to grind into you. Your mouths inches apart but never touching as your exhaled breaths he inhaled. The air escaping from him was heavy and warm. Something took over and you bent to lick the sweat that beaded along his collarbone.

Ivan moaned as your lips trailed up his neck and over his chin. He opened his mouth and swallowed your tongue when you pushed it deep inside. He sucked on it briefly before he exchanged the favor. You consumed it, your fingers flew through undoing the button and zipper of his tight jeans. They dove inside to seize his fully formed erection.

“Wait.. wait..” he gasped, breathless.

There was another whimper of pleasure as you caressed him. Your free hand twisted up in that mane of hair. The grip tightened both places at the same time you slammed your mouth into his once more. There was a noise between surprise and acceptance as you held the back of his head in place. Your lips and tongues struggled to outdo one another.

“Why are we hiding?” Ivan broke away from you again. His hands running over your back and ass. They were like fire as they moved under your shirt. Your skin set ablaze by his touch.

Your eyes stared solely at those lips. Ivan’s swollen and chapped lips as he spoke. You rushed forward to devour them. The air caught in his lungs while you sucked at those lips. Made them swell and pulsate like his member in your grip. Just the tip of your tongue darted out to taste them and a hint of copper. One of you had started to bleed.

Ivan remembered himself and pushed you back. Your face delicately in his palms placed on your cheeks. You were forced to look at him. Those eyes that bore holes into your soul. His crooked nose and crooked tooth and crooked grin with the dimples made a smile spread across your face. He was breathless while he waited for your answer.

You sighed, clung to his leather jacket now. Leaning into his chest you spoke, “I just don’t want Gloria getting the impression we like, double date. Plus I like having you to myself.”

You let your own hands travel up his sides and stomach. Ivan noticeably trembled with desire.

“Ye make out like we’re something dirty,” he sweetly kissed your forehead.

“It’s exciting! Makes my lips quake, if you know what I mean.” You straddled his knee. “Sexy badass rockstar all those slaggy girls want, but I’m the one going home with you at night,” you whispered in his ear before nipping at it. “Ivan The Adorable.”

“Crikey ye can’t call me that and a bloody badass in one sentence.” Ivan was clearly annoyed. “I’m not adorable, and I’m more than Neil’s little brother.”

You kissed the pout that formed. Your tongue meshed and battled with him again. He fought back heroically, overtaking you. It caught you off guard. Ivan elicited both a moan and another squeal from somewhere deep inside of you.

“I know you’re not just the little brother,” you said without looking away from his mouth. “That’s why I got you a meeting with Paul McGuinness.”

Ivan bent to kiss your neck as you were talking but stopped dead in his tracks. “Pauly McGuinns from school? That Neil grew up wit? U2’s manager? Ye taking the piss?!”

“One and the same. He and Hammond think you’re so much better solo. Why would I fuck with you, Ive? We all know Neil is holding you back.”

Ivan backed away from you. His lip quivered for another reason. “Not this shite again. I told ye, Y/N he’s my BROTHER. Look how far he’s brought me. Just took the long way round I suppose.”

“Sure. One missed rent away from having to suck Karl’s dick for cash. Even GLORIA thinks you’re meant for better shit.”

“Fuck. You.”

“Ivan!”

“He’s my BLOOD. I told you that. You’re just some chick I like t’fuck, but Neil. He wouldn’t betray me. Get it through your head, y/n. I’m not doing it t’him.”

Then Ivan turned and was gone. Your cheeks flushed with fury because you knew he would regret that belief one day. You just weren’t going to stick around for the fallout.

Tag list: @070188 @magic-multicolored-miracle @neuroticpuppy @ghouls-buddy @firstpersonnarrator @elliethesuperfruitlover @nightmonsters @duck-noises @bisexualnathanyoung @forenschik @frogs--are--bitches @super-unpredictable98 @vonkimmeren @falloutby @maerenee930 @the-freckled-luba @emelieislasheehan @messengeronthemoon

[aghoulishtale]

Drunk Words Are Sober Thoughts

Ivan McCormick x Reader // Killing Bono 

Request: “he likes the reader and gets drunk and accidentally tells them and in the morning he’s all embarrassed but then everything goes well” for anonymous

Word Count: 1.2k  Warnings: Alcohol and drug usage 

[gif]

Blinking against the light, you attempted to sit up but something heavy was weighing on your chest, holding you down. You looked down, seeing Ivan’s head on you using you as a pillow as he lay on his stomach, his feet hanging over the side of the bed still in the boots he had worn to the party last night. While you felt a twinge of a hangover starting, you knew he was going to feel ten times worse than you. He had already been out of it, having drunk and taken who knows how many drugs by the time you had even arrived, barely able to stand up straight and spending the rest of the night using you to keep himself up. While his body seemed to shut down when inebriated, his mind apparently went into overdrive, words spewing out a mile a minute. If you ever needed Ivan to tell you something he wasn’t meant to, all you needed to do was give him a couple drinks and he would tell you everything, and last night he told you a lot. 

Carefully, you shuffled out from under him, replacing your body with a pile of pillows. He only stirred slightly, but he remained asleep, his mouth hanging open as he snored lightly, the thick eyeliner he had been wearing now smeared across the side of his face and glitter clung to the curls that were somehow even messier than they usually were. You found it tempting to run your hands through them, to feel the soft curls wrap around your fingers while you watched him peacefully sleep. Even in this state, you thought he was one of the most beautiful people you had ever met, affection filling you as you admired him, his words from the night before playing on your mind. Realising it would probably be awkward if he woke to you standing over him and staring at him, you left the room in search of painkillers. You managed to find some paracetamol in the kitchen, quickly swallowing a couple before taking the rest, along with a fresh glass of water, back to Ivan’s room. 

He slept for another hour, finally traipsing out of his room to find you curled up on the old second hand sofa they had recently acquired, one of the only pieces of furniture in the large room, and reading a newspaper that had to be at least a week old. You were in one of his t-shirts, a blanket covering your lower half. He had also gotten changed, the make-up and glitter gone, his hair damp and sticking to his forehead from where he had just gotten out of the shower, though even water couldn’t weigh down the curls. 

“Morning.” He greeted gruffly, dropping onto the other side of the sofa. 

“Afternoon.” You replied. “It’s 2pm.” You dropped the newspaper on the floor, pulling your knees to your chest as you sat facing him. You wanted to bring up last night, desperate to find out if what he had said was true, to know that he had meant it and it wasn’t just the alcohol and drugs talking. “How’re you feeling?” 

“Rough.” He answered. “You?”

“Oh, I’m good. I was too busy looking after you to drink too much.” You teased, jabbing your finger into his arm. 

“Sorry.” He stared down at his hands, his eyebrows drawn down and frowning as he flicked at his nail. You could tell he wanted to say something, so you rested your chin on top of your knees as you waited for him to say it. He opened his mouth, sucking in a breath as his eyes quickly flicked to you and back to his hands. “Did I say anything last night?” He finally asked. You felt your heart jump; this is what you had been waiting for. “It’s just, usually when I drink I talk a lot. Gets me in trouble a lot.”

“I know.” You chuckled. You had witnessed it a couple times since you had befriended the McCormick brothers, though usually it was Neil on the receiving end of Ivan’s drunken confessions and they weren’t always the nicest. Last month he had accused him of ruining his career, saying he would’ve been better off with Bono and U2, leading to them not speaking for two days before silently making up in that way that brothers do; nothing actually discussed but everything forgiven anyway. 

“I didn’t say anything to hurt anyone, did I?” He looked at you hesitantly, concern written on his face. 

“No, you didn’t. You said a lot, but nothing bad.” You reassured him.  

“And what exactly did I say?”

“Oh, y’know.” You shrugged, taking some enjoyment in the way he nervously squirmed in his seat, waiting for the answer. “Just that I’m the funniest, smartest, prettiest person you have ever met and that you don’t understand how you got so lucky to have me in your life.” He squeezed his eyes shut as he grimaced. 

“I did?”

“Yep.” He hid his face in his hands, but you weren’t done. “You also might have mentioned that you’re in love with me.” You bit your lip as he peaked at you through his fingers. 

“Oh god.” He groaned. 

“Ivan.” You pulled his hands away from his face, forcing him to look at you as you built up the courage to ask the question that had been eating at you since he had said. “Is it true? Are you in love with me?” His lips parted as though he was going to say something, but nothing came out. You held his gaze, his eyes searching yours looking for the right answer, his breathing deepening ever so slightly, but you still noticed. You had a feeling that if you put your hand on his chest, you would feel his heart beating as quickly and as hard as yours, and it was all the answer you needed. You surged forward, hearing him gasp as your lips landed on his. He kissed you back instantly, his hand cupping your cheek. When he pulled away, you thought he was going to say something, but he pulled you back in instead. He didn’t need to speak to confirm it, making you feel the answer in the way he kissed you, the kiss quickly getting more intense as you both poured everything into it, desperate to show each other how you felt. The weeks of subtle glances and light touches, of hours of conversation and being the first person the other noticed when they walked into a room, all going into this kiss. You were the one to finally pull away, resting your forehead against his and you both fought to breath. Though your eyes were still closed, you knew he was smiling too. His hand still warm on your cheek, you placed yours over it, intertwining your fingers. 

“I love you.” He whispered, lifting his head from yours to look at your face, his eyes a darker green than you were used to, filled with a mix of love and lust. 

“I love you, too.” You whispered back. He stood, pulling you up with him, his eyes trailing down your body as the blanket fell away from you, your bare legs on show. He bit his tongue as he grinned, pulling you back to his room, and you followed him eagerly.

Taglist: @bisexualnathanyoung​ @misskittysmagicportal​ @nightingale-rose​ @forenschik​ @love-is-dirty-baby​

[say-writes-sometimes]

Will you play it for me?

Ivan McCormick x Reader

Word Count: 850

Tags: fluffy fluff

Warnings: none at all, it's safe folks ;)

a/n: You catch Ivan playing a beautiful song and he teaches you how to play it on his guitar

You entered the open space of the warehouse, its dusty sent filling your senses. You could hear Ivan pulling on his guitar strings playing a beautiful little melody, singing softly along with lyrics you couldn't quite make out yet. The moment you stepped in sight the sounds stopped and Ivan looked up at you with a loving smile.

"Can you keep playing for me, Ivan? I like the sound of you playing.", You softly broke the new silence that lied apon the two you. Steps patting lightly against the hardwood floor towards him.

"Come 'ere baby, I can show you how to play if you'd like me to", Ivan grabbed you by the hoops of your jeans and pulled you gently towards where he sat on the warehouse floor.

You got to know Ivan and Neil through Gloria after she hit it off with Neil. She thought Ivan and you would make a cute pair so she introduced you. And to your surprise, she was absolutely right. You quickly fell in love with the way his hair curled and he smiled when he gently plucked at the guitar strings. The two of you started to spent more time together until you were inseparable.

Now you found yourself sitting comfortably in his lap, your back leaning against his toned, warm chest, guitar in your hands.

Ivan's hands brushed the lost strands of hair that had fallen in front of your eyes gently behind your ears. His arms circled around you, which you were more than contend with because the cold air in the warehouse was getting to you.

You felt his puffed breath warm on your neck as his hands slipped over your own.

Carefully Ivan positioned the fingers of your left hand over the strings, explaining softly which frets you needed to hold to play a specific note. Though you were barely listening, his scent almost overwhelming you. He consumed your senses so much that you weren't able to listen to his soothing voice.

Ivan positioned the pick he had nearby between your right forefinger and thumb. His hand still covering yours. He started strumming your hand along the guitar strings gently, whispering softly into you ear explaining what you had to do.

The sweet melody flooded the room as you slipped into a world with only you and him in it. The cold of the warehouse floor evaporated and you wouldn't want to be anywhere else.

The song he was teaching you was simple and soon you began to get the hang of it. Ivan's hands never left yours but you were taking more and more control of your movements. Getting lost in him and the music you were strumming absentmindedly, miraculously hitting the right notes. You slowly realised you played the song he played when you first entered the room.

"Are you writing this for the band then?", You whispered softly, afraid the atmosphere around you will shatter if you spoke to loudly.

"No, I am writing it for you", he whispered into your ear.

This brought a pink tint to your cheeks and a goofy smile to your lips.

"Will you play it for me?"

"But it's not done yet", you heard the smile in his words as he leaned down and softly kissed the crook of your neck.

"Please I want to hear it. Ivan, please", you playfully begged him. His lyrics were always beautiful but he was too shy to suggest them to the band and he simply wanted to keep them personal. Ivan was contend with leaving the bright spotlight to Neil.

"[y/n]",he dragged out, "you just gotta be patient, love"

His gentle assault on your neck moved to your jawline, the guitar long forgotten. You leaned your had back on his shoulder, tilting your head to the side to give him more room to explore your skin.

Ivan left little marks on your skin and when he reached your cheek, you turned your head to meet his lips with yours. It was a soft kiss filled with emotion, conveying more than most words could ever express.

You turned in his warm embrace now facing him. Your foreheads rested against the other as you breathed. For a moment you just stayed in this position but soon you felt his hands tighten around your back, pulling you onto him. Now chest against chest, your knees on either side of his legs, Ivan leaned back in again, this time more fiercely. You shifted on his lap causing him to groan into your mouth, you used that opportunity to slip your tongue between his teeth. Your hands found the ends of his soft curls, pulling them not quite hard enough to hurt him but the sounds you eclicted from him only spurred you on.

"[y/n], if we don't stop now, I don't think I can contain myself much longer"

"Well. Neil and Gloria are gonna be gone for a while longer, we have the whole place to ourselves.", you smirked mischiefly, re-connecting your lips hastily.

[its-my-little-dumpster-fire]

Some Kind of Loving ( i n t r o )

Neil McCormick x Reader, 1.5k

A/N: I just love this lil disaster and I want to have more fun imagining him with crazy hair and tight pants and getting into all sorts of mischief. Plus I don’t see any Neil content out here. In the words of another great Neil, “This is one small fic for the dumpster fire and one giant leap for Fandom.” Too far. ok.

Summary: You’re itchin’ to join a band. The McCormick brothers are itchin’ to start one. And also. Other itches?

“Get out while you can,” Ivan called from his seat at the head of the table.

“Well, the band has spoken...” you huffed a breath, cocking one shoulder in a tight shrug as you spun, literally, on your heel to exit the office space.

“No no no no,” Neil’s comically long legs nearly buckled as he scampered around the long conference room table in an attempt to chase you out the door. The room behind you echoed with the collision of a rolling chair and the carpeted floor. Turning slightly at the ruckus, Neil McCormick was skidding the last few inches and placing himself directly in your line of vision. “I-I-don’t listen to him,” his words came out in a huff, like he was catching his breath. “Ivan isn’t the band,” he scoffed with a crooked smile, squinting his eyes and lifting his shoulder as if it were so commonplace. Neil leaned in conspiratorially, one hand clutching the glass door jamb at his side and anchoring him to the conference room while his face was creeping toward yours. It wasn’t a bad face. Not bad at all. “In reality, I hold a lot of the cards here,” he grinned and you couldn’t help smiling along with him. Clearly the elder McCormick brother, yet when he smiled like that he looked barely old enough to drive let alone rent out offices like this. “The frontman always gets what he wants,” Neil winked and licked his lips.

“Like hell!” You heard Ivan’s voice practically squeaking from behind the glass as it rose in defiance. The shorter brother with curls and kind eyes appeared in the doorway next to Neil shooting you an apologetic glance as he began berating his brother. They argued like...brothers and for a moment you were certain they’d forgotten all about your presence, reverting back to some version of themselves whose mother would take each by the ear until the bickering crumbled into pained whines and moans of repentance. “Neil! You can’t just be making this call-“

“We have space for a talented young thing such as yourself,” Neil smiled at you, completely ignoring his brother’s protest. “You’re hired!”

“We can’t afford it!” Ivan screeched awkwardly, trying to keep his voice low, despite being just an arm’s length from you.

Unlike his brother, Neil was now propped up against the door frame, with his arms crossed and that damned smile directly at you. “Yet,” he clarified with the confidence that made you want to believe every word he said. The gospel according to Neil McCormick was a road lined with minimal dues to pay and maximum payouts for a band without so much as name for themselves. “Stick with us,” he assured you, “and you’ll be big.”

“Neil,” Ivan ground out his brothers name through gritted teeth and you assumed, correctly, that this was a common occurrence for them.

When Neil caught your uneasy glances in his brother’s direction, he caught the little McCormick’s face in his palm and gave him a gentle shove out of the conversation. “Don’t listen to him,” he assured you. “My brother’s always been a bit of a, of a Doubtin’ Simon.”

“Thomas,” you corrected him, with a questioning quirk of your eyebrow.

“No, Ivan,” Neil tilted his head over his shoulder in his brother’s direction. Caught between Neil’s knuckles, Ivan stopped resisting the hand on his face long enough to roll his eyes and you laughed with him. Neil took it as a good sign and joined in, still unawares of his slip. Willful ignorance or genuine mistake, it didn’t matter. The McCormick Brothers were a crack and being a part of their lives, their success (if Neil had anything to do with it), seemed like just the thing you needed. “So you’re in?” Neil asked, needing no clarification as he read the growing smile on your lips. “You’re gonna do it,” he said, not asked, as his own grin was drawing you in even more. “I knew it! Great news, yeah?” He was practically bouncing on the balls of his feet when Ivan finally broke free from his brother’s grip and even the younger one was starting to let a flicker of excitement take over the moment.

A series of strange and pointed looked passed between the young men so quick, you’d missed all but the last, in which Ivan cleared his throat and turned to address you directly. He’d let Neil do most of the talking so far and you found it odd of him to jump in now.

“So, anyways...we have this gig. It’s next week and we should probably be ready to go for it…” he pointed out, nodding as if trying to shake the hair out of his eyes, but the dark curls were spiraled so tight that his young and eager face was clear of obstruction.

“I have a keyboard,” you offered up quickly, still wanting to appear professional. “When do you boys intend to practice next?”

“As soon as possible!” Neil piped up excitedly. “For the gig, of course.”

“Of course,” you nodded, digging through your bag for anything you could write on. You pulled out a stick of gum and unwrapped it, folding the yellow piece against your tongue, so you could write your phone number on the white paper. Neil’s eyes were wide, while Ivan took the number from your hand. The older McCormick spun quickly to snatch the paper back, looking at it, before tucking it into his own pocket. “So this gig..?”

Neil relayed the details. Location, time, the networking genius it took to secure the slot in the first place. He looked and sounded proud of himself. Without knowing him for longer than thirty minutes, you couldn’t help but join him in the feeling. Something about him got to you. The eager magnetism with which he spoke was pulling you into the fantasy. As much as you wanted to be in a band that found success, you found yourself wanting it even more for Neil. He clearly belong on a stage. He deserved to be seen, everything about him begged for it. And if you could be a part of that dream being realized, you were in.

“You should invite your fella,” Neil added at the end of his spiel. His eyes were inviting, but his smirk faltered momentarily. For a split second, you thought that maybe there was more to Neil McCormick than just the cocky exterior.

“I didn’t say anything about a fella, did I?” you asked, tucking your lips between your teeth to reign in the grin that threatened to break out.

“No,” Neil said without trying to hide his pleasure at all. “You didn’t.”

Ivan checked the clock on the wall and started to usher both you and Neil out the door. “Time’s up!” He said quickly, wasting no time as he mashed his thumb into the big round button next to the elevator across the hall.

“What’s going on?” You asked and Neil’s arm was around your waist in no time, pulling you into the shiny metal box with him as soon as the doors opened up.

He leaned in again, though this time it was leaning forward as he’d positioned himself just behind your shoulder. “The company’s lunch hour is just about ending,” he winked and gestured back to the glass walls of a conference room that you should have assumed were not theirs. It was far swankier than any other band you’d interviewed with and clearly was still too fancy for the McCormick boys as you realized that none of you were supposed to be there.

When the doors opened, a rotund security guard was eyeing you three with a squinted and suspicious expression.

“I hope you like to run,” Ivan sighed, just before he took off through the lobby of the building.

Neil’s hand slid across your lower back and down your forearm until it found yours and clasped it tight.

“Let the fun begin,” you shrugged, before running through the glass doors and down the busy street, away from the scandalized group of church ladies you’d barreled through, away from the bellowing of a security guard, away from the pervasive thoughts that you’d never get to play the music you really wanted to. With Neil’s hand tightening around yours as he bobbed and weaved to keep up with his brother, the possibilities of what you were running toward seemed endless. And exciting, you decided as the three of you ducked into an alleyway to catch your breath and laugh. Very exciting, you decided, as Neil didn’t immediately pull his hand away.

[its-my-little-dumpster-fire]

Some Kind of Loving

Some kind of loving || locks your heart behind a brick wall || Some kind of loving || is no kind of loving at all

intro

[heloisedaphnebrightmore]

Ben Barnes and Characters Masterlist by Heloise Daphne Brightmore

Masterlists | Fanfiction recommendations

If you enjoy my stories, please consider donating and supporting me on Ko-fi. <3

Ben Barnes Masterlist

One shots / Mini series / Series

Billy Russo Masterlist

One shots / Mini series / Series

© All rights reserved ® of the Ben Barnes stories. 

© All rights reserved ® in regards to my characters and their behaviours and personality. I, however do not own the rights to the gifs and photos presented in the book and any of the characters and story line matching the original script of The Punisher by Netflix, Gerry Conway, John Romita Sr., Ross Andru and Marvel.

[aghoulishtale]

Rain in the Jealousy

Ivan McCormick x Reader // Killing Bono 

Request: “something about Ivan McCormick? something like he's jealous of his brother” for anonymous  and  Request: “Ivan McCormick fic where him and y/n are best friends who are crushing on each other and they get caught in the rain and end up kissing” for anonymous 

Word Count: 1.6k  Warnings: Swearing 

[gif]

“I think it’s going to rain,” you observed, looking up at the dark clouds that were passing over you. 

“Are you even listening to me?” Ivan moaned, nudging you with his elbow from his place sat next to you. 

“Yeah of course!” you argued. He watched you expectantly, chestnut curls moving across his forehead in the wind, and you realised that you were meant to be answering a question. “No, I wasn’t,” you admitted, receiving an over emphasised eye roll from your best friend.  

“y/n!” he complained. “Are you coming to the gig tonight?” 

“Oh. Of course I am. I’d never miss a chance to see my boy in action,” you teased, squeezing his cheek, knowing that he hated when you did that. He pulled your arm away from his face, fixing you with an angry glare, though you could tell he didn’t mean it, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. 

“You can’t be doing that when I’m a famous rockstar.” 

“Why? Worried it’ll ruin your image? Make all your groupie girls jealous?” you joked, going for his cheek again when he grabbed your hand, holding it away from his face. 

“I won’t have any if they think I’m taken, Neil will get them all.” You pulled your hand away from his, looking out to the sea in front of you. You hated the feeling you got whenever he talked about other girls, how it felt harder to breathe, and knotted your stomach, even if you were the one to bring it up.  

“Well, Neil is the hot one,” you muttered, finding his scoff a little satisfying. Of course you didn’t actually believe this. Sure, Neil was attractive, but he wasn’t Ivan, with his wild curls, and big, emerald eyes, and an infectious smile that never failed to make you feel better. You weren’t sure when exactly these feelings had started, maybe they had always been there, but you knew better than to air them, having him as just a friend outweighing the risk of losing him completely. 

“I think you’re right, it’s definitely going to rain. We should go.” Ivan broke the silence that had fallen over you, jumping down off the wall where you were sat, offering out his hand to help you down. Accepting it, you jumped, dusting off your jeans and following Ivan back towards the street where you both lived. During the walk back, you only discussed what the plans for the evening were, the stiffness of the conversation making you feel uneasy. Up until recently, it was rare that Ivan didn’t have anything to say, your conversations flowing easily, and you desperately wished you could read his mind and figure out what had changed in the last few months that had led to him holding back around you. 

“I guess I’ll see you tonight then,” you said as you reached your house, standing at the end of the drive, debating whether you should just ask him about it. 

“Yep,” he responded, nodding before crossing the street to his own house. Sighing, you dragged your feet up the drive, glancing over your shoulder to see Ivan disappearing into his house without giving you a second look. 

--- 

You were slightly late to the gig, walking in during The Undertakers second song. The rain you had predicted earlier came not long after you had gotten home and had been pouring relentlessly ever since, leaving you completely soaked and uncomfortable in the crowded room. You were able to get close enough for Ivan to spot you were there, receiving a warm smile as he played, the hat you had thought you’d convinced him not to wear balanced on top of his head. Returning the smile, you made your way to the back of the room to escape the crowd while you waited for them to finish their set. 

Their performance was not great, the band still in its early days, but you could tell that the brothers were having the time of their lives up there, and seeing Ivan so happy warmed you, making it worth the effort it had taken you to get there. When they left the stage, the next band, also made up of others you had gone to school with, took their place and began their performance, but your focus remained on the crowd, waiting to spot the two boys. 

“y/n!” you heard, turning to find Neil making his way through the crowd towards you, Ivan nowhere to be seen. 

“Neil! You were great,” you tell him, returning the hug he had pulled you into as he reached you. 

“Ah, we’ll get better.”

“Where’s Ivan?” you asked, shouting over the band. 

“He went to get some drinks, he’ll be back in a minute.” With not much more to discuss, he turned to watch the band perform. Beyond Ivan, the two of you had little in common, and your conversations never seemed to last very long. 

“They’re quite good,” you told him, finding yourself enjoying the music more than you had expected to. 

“They’re fine," he shrugged, “nothing special.” He pulled his gaze away from the stage to further prove his disinterest. 

“I dunno. I think they’ve got something.” The look on Neil’s face, a mixture of disappointment and anger, made you feel a little guilty for saying it, and you were about to apologise, assure him that they had something too, when he interrupted you. 

“Hang on, y/n,” he reached out, his thumb gently wiping underneath your eye, and you looked at him confused. “You had glitter on you. Would’ve hurt if that got in your eye,” he explained, showing you his thumb. A pair of pint glasses being slammed onto the ledge next to where you were standing startled you, turning to find Ivan storming off into the crowd without saying a word to either of you. 

“What’s wrong with him?” Neil asked, and you shrugged in response. You watched him as he joined a group of girls who were dancing, his eyes meeting yours as he began to dance with one of them, his body barely inches away from hers. You knew he was doing it to get to you, his eyes flicking back to you every few seconds to make sure you were still watching. 

“I’m going home,” you tell Neil, ignoring his questions as you pushed your way to the exit. The street was silent, the heavy door slamming shut behind you and blocking out the music and shouting from inside, the rain still falling and helping to cool your anger. You took in a deep breath, fighting back the tears that threatened to fall, refusing to let yourself get upset over him doing something so small, something that he has every right to do because, after all, he wasn’t your boyfriend. You started walking down the street with no plan as to how to get home, shivering as the rain continued to soak through your already wet clothes. 

“y/n, wait!” you heard Ivan shout, the street filled with the music once again until the door swung shut, and then the only noises were your shoes as you walked down the street, and Ivan’s as he chased after you. 

“Where are you going?” he asked, grabbing your arm and forcing you to face him. 

“I’m going home.” You pulled your arm out of his grasp, the rain covering your skin allowing it to easily slip away. 

“You can’t go yet.” 

“Why not? You want me to stay just so that I can just stand and watch you dance with other girls?” you shouted, louder than you had planned. 

“No, because it’s dark and I have to make sure you get home alright,” he shouted back. 

“Oh, such a gentleman.” 

“Well, someone has to be, and unfortunately for you, it’s not going to be Neil,” he scoffed as he said his brother’s name. “You’re being a bit of a hypocrite getting annoyed at me flirting with another girl when that’s exactly what you were doing with Neil!” 

“I wasn’t flirting with Neil,” you retaliated, making no effort to hide the disgust from your voice. 

“I saw you! The way he was touching your face and stuff.” 

“He was wiping away some glitter.” 

“Oh, sure, that’s completely innocent.” 

“Yes it is! Jesus, Ivan, I don’t want to date your brother. I can barely hold a conversation with him.” You could feel the anger stirring in your chest, pushing the words out. “It’s you I like, ya bleedin’ idiot. I didn’t come all this way, getting completely drenched and making an absolute twat of myself on the bus, for any other reason than because you asked me to. I definitely didn’t come to see your crappy band for the music, because let’s be real Ivan, you’re a bit shite, and I certainly didn’t come for Ne-” You were cut of by Ivan’s mouth crashing on to yours, the force almost causing you to stumble back if it hadn’t had been for his hands clutching your upper arms as he pulled you towards him. You stared up at him in shock when he pulled back, his eyes searching your face, water running down his as it dripped from the curls that were beginning to stick to his forehead. You reached out to push them back, wiping a raindrop as it rolled down his cheek, pulling him back down to kiss you again. He moved his hands from your arms, one cupping the back of your neck, the other on your back, gently pushing you closer. This time when he pulled away, he rested his forehead against yours, and even though you both had your eyes closed, you could picture his smile. You stood for some time, holding each other close, enjoying being able to kiss him just as you had imagined doing for years, until the cutting chill became too much, and you made your way back into the building to enjoy the rest of the evening together.

[aghoulishtale]

Blackout

Ivan McCormick x Reader // Killing Bono 

and they were roommates, no.1

Prompt: There is a blackout in the whole building and now we stumble through our apartment, trying to find some candles. Word Count: 829  Warnings: none 

[gif]

At this point, you had basically moved in with the McCormick’s. You hadn’t been back to your flat since you had auditioned, and quickly been accepted, to join their band. It had been two months of song writing, rehearsals, and plenty of rejections. The whole band was now sat around the small heater, the central heating having gone off days ago due to no one paying the bills, and all band related discussions had been abandoned as everyone’s spirits died. You were pressed against Ivan, desperately using him for warmth as you were wrapped in the same blanket. The pair of you had quickly grown close and you were beginning to regret agreeing to Neil’s rule of no inter-band relationships, something Neil felt the need to remind you of every time he saw you and Ivan alone together. Not that anything ever happened between you, Ivan would never disobey his brother, whether out of respect or fear you weren’t quite sure, and you were too grateful to be there to risk getting kicked out.

The discussion had turned to the small group of girls that had been showing up to all of your shows, Neil excited that you were starting to get some fans, ignoring the fact that they didn’t care about the music at all; they just wanted to sleep with him. Not interested in the conversation, you rested your head on Ivan’s shoulder, knowing it would annoy Neil, closing your eyes and letting yourself start to drift off.

“Ivan! I thought you paid the electric bill.” Neil’s sudden exclamation startled you awake, but when you opened your eyes you were met with darkness.

“I did!” Ivan argued.

“Well, obviously not.” You felt Ivan stiffen, fighting back the urge to argue with his brother. “Where did you put the candles?”

“I didn’t put them anywhere, you had them last.”

“No I didn’t.”

“Ye- whatever, let’s just look for them.” You lifted your head from his shoulder as he stood, letting the blanket drop away from him, and you instantly missed the warmth of his body. Wrapping the blanket around yourself tighter, you stood to go fumble around in the dark in search of candles.

You had found your way into the kitchen, searching through draws, hoping that all the knives had been put back into their proper places, when someone walked into you. You grabbed onto the counter, the other person holding onto the blanket, helping to keep you upright.

“I’m sorry.” They said, and you instantly recognised the voice to be Ivan’s.

“It’s okay.”

“y/n?” He whispered.

“Yes?” You whispered back, a little confused as to why he was suddenly whispering but going along with it. His hands moved from where he had been clutching onto the blanket up to your face. You closed your eyes when you felt his fingers getting close to going in them as he ran them over your face, as if searching for something.

“What are you doing?” You asked him, the end of the sentence coming out a little funny as his fingers found your lips. He didn’t respond, instead you felt him move closer, and then his lips replaced his fingers. The surprise caused you to instinctively move your head back, immediately regretting it as you heard Ivan sigh.

“Wait.” You held his hands on your face to prevent him from moving them. “Do it again.”

This time you kissed him back straight away, threading your fingers into the curls that you had always admired. They were getting quite long now, partly because Ivan had decided he wanted them to be, and partly because no one could actually afford a haircut right now. His right hand still on your cheek, his left moved to your back, gently encouraging you to step backwards until you hit the counter, and he deepened the kiss. As his tongue found yours you fought back a moan, not wanting to give away what was happening.

“Any luck?” The sound of Neil’s voice, fortunately placing him on the other side of the apartment, startled you both, quickly pulling apart. His question was met with a series of no’s, until Ivan opened the cupboard above your head, reaching in to feel for what was inside.

“Got them!” He shouted back to his brother. “But no matches.”

“Uhhhh.” Neil complained, and everyone went back to searching, minus you, who was still pinned to the counter, and Ivan, who’s hand returned to your cheek, once again pulling you back in for another kiss.

“To be continued.” He whispered, his breath on your ear sending a shiver through you. He reached back into the cupboard where he had found the candles and he stepped away from you.

“Ah, never mind, got them.” He called, lighting a match. In the light of the small flame, you could see him smirking at you, the devilish look making your stomach flip. Neil was going to be so mad, but it was absolutely worth it.

[its-my-little-dumpster-fire]

Someone requesting more NEIL?!?!

I can get behind this. You got it dude

Some Kind of Loving

Some kind of loving || locks your heart behind a brick wall || Some kind of loving || is no kind of loving at all

intro

[songtoyou]

This was cute. Neil may be annoying at times (from what I saw in the movie), but he means well. I like how you expand your writing to the different characters Ben has played.

Some Kind of Loving ( i n t r o )

Neil McCormick x Reader, 1.5k

A/N: I just love this lil disaster and I want to have more fun imagining him with crazy hair and tight pants and getting into all sorts of mischief. Plus I don’t see any Neil content out here. In the words of another great Neil, “This is one small fic for the dumpster fire and one giant leap for Fandom.” Too far. ok.

Summary: You’re itchin’ to join a band. The McCormick brothers are itchin’ to start one. And also. Other itches?

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