#someone buss on her face asking for her <3< /div> Explore tagged Tumblr posts

[s-4pphics]

ellie’s so pussy drunk when she gives head for the first time. literally a doll for use a blank useless bobble head with a flat tongue and the spirit.

her letting you guide her head wherever you need to so u can cum and give her the same <333

[ellecdc]

Hardass

Chef!Sirius Black x mixologist!reader who survive a shift from hell

part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 4 | part 5 | part 6 | part 7

CW: fem!reader, mention of alchohol/drinking, fluff.

comes from a request from @maladaptiveescapism: chef!sirius and mixologist!reader. sirius is a chef at a fancy restaurant and maybe a mishap happens with booking and reader has to keep the people sitting at the bar waiting for a seat and she does such a good job because she’s flirty and fun and trained for this. sirius who always has such a short temper (chefs, am I right) secretly worships her because she’s the one thing he can count on

Sirius was fuming, to say the least.

He loved his job; he really did. The kitchens were his sanctuary, and it was the first place he fled to when he ran away from home at only sixteen. 

Though he knew Effie and Fleamont would have helped with anything he needed (or even wanted, for that matter), he didn’t want to become a burden or take advantage of their kindness. So, he found a part time job in a small family owned restaurant as a dishwasher.

Washing dishes became bussing tables. Bussing tables became hosting. Hosting became serving. He went from a server to a line cook, until finally someone took him under their wing, and Sirius made a name for himself.

Now he was a successful chef working in a successful restaurant and he certainly had made a name for himself.

That name? Hardass.

But it took a certain intensity to run the kind of kitchen that Sirius did, and he expected nothing short of greatness from the kitchen staff.

Fortunately for Sirius, it was the restaurant manager’s fuck up that caused tonights issues.

Unfortunately for Sirius, that fucked everything up for his staff in the kitchen. 

“So, quick question for you Jeffery; did you pass year four maths?” Sirius asked earnestly, watching Jeffery shove his tongue in his cheek to avoid snapping back at the glowering chef in all his tattooed intensity. “Because last time I counted, we don’t have this many sodding tables!” He continued, pointing at the number of reservations scheduled for tonight.

“Uh oh.” You carefully called out as you walked in through the front door, in the process of shucking off your jacket as you made your way towards the bar. “Looks like you could use a drink, chef.” 

Sirius was almost mad at how much of the rage seemed to settle down into a simmer at the sight of you; he didn’t want to calm down, he wanted to ring Jeffery’s fucking neck out.

But Jeffery, the coward, had used your entrance as a means to fuck off from whatever circle of Sirius’ personal hell he’d been summoned from. 

“We’re overbooked tonight.” Sirius grumbled as he sat dejectedly at your bar; mirroring what likely most of your patrons looked like as they spent their weekday evenings with you.

“Shit luck.” you sighed commiseratingly as you poured two shots of vodka and slid one to him. “Here’s to working our sodding asses off then, hm?” You said with a smirk as you touched your glass to his and threw it back like a pro. 

And you had indeed been right; the two of you had worked your sodding asses off tonight. But the difference between the two of you was astounding.

Sirius spent most of his evening sweating, cursing, and - more embarrassingly - shouting at the poor servers looking for their orders that ‘clearly weren’t fucking ready yet, were they?!’. 

But not you. 

Alright, did he take the opportunity to run out the odd plate for the servers just to steal a glance at you? Sure. Sue him. And everytime he did, he’d pass the very busy bar which was always full of couples and groups waiting for a table to clear. None of them seemed to mind, however, as they watched you shake, throw, spin, catch bottles like it was an olympic sport; all with a smile on your face and mischief in your eyes. 

It was as if they were your captive audience and you were thriving on stage. 

Sirius wanted to stay and enjoy the show; but you were working your arse off, and Sirius should be too.

Sirius’ feet were killing him, which meant most of his staff’s feet were worse; his shoulders ached, his head was pounding, and his fingers were raw.

But they made it to the end of the shift; and he supposed that was all that mattered.

He brought out two plates of the restaurant’s famous (read: Sirius’ famous) pasta alla gricia.

You were no longer wearing your beaming smile and Sirius could now see some of the weight of the night in your shoulders and the way your hair was falling as you reorganised your bar.

“Think you can take a break?” He asked as he sat at your freshly cleared bar and placed one plate in front of him and one behind the bar for you.

You startled, which Sirius thought strange for someone who seemed so confident and assured every time he’d walked past your bar for the past almost year the two of you have worked here, but he didn’t comment on it.

“Oh my God.” You groaned appreciatively as you abandoned your task to take in the plate he’d prepared for you. “I’m starving; thank you!”

Sirius chuckled and suddenly felt shy, which he did not think suited him at all, but you were smiling at him like he was your personal angel on earth and he couldn’t help but return the gaze.

“Let me get you a drink?” You asked, but turned to start pouring him a glass of wine (perfectly suited for the dish, mind you) before he had a chance to answer. 

You placed both drinks on the bar and brought your plate around to sit on the stool beside Sirius.

The two of you ate in relative silence; allowing the stress and exhaustion from the shift to wash over you. 

“I think I made Chloe cry.” Sirius said finally, causing you to snort.

“You did.” You agreed quickly. “She came and helped me in the bar for a bit and Jeffery had to run her tables after that.”

Sirius barked a laugh as he took a sip of his wine. “I was wondering why that sod was in my kitchen. Well, I’m sorry to Chloe, but happy to have put Jeffery to work.”

Speaking of the devil; Jeffery came out front with his jacket on and a work bag slung over his shoulder. 

“I’m heading out now; are you two okay to close up?”

You smiled at him, but unfortunately for Jeffrey, Sirius responded first. “Yes we can close up.” He sneered. “We’re not new here Jeffery.”

“Thanks Jeffery, have a nice night.” You relented; giving Sirius a gentle kick in the shin.

The door shut behind the bastard and Sirius felt his shoulders relax. “I hate that sod.”

Thankfully, you only laughed at him.

“I think you hate everyone here.”

“That’s not true.” Sirius disagreed quickly.

“Well you certainly don’t like anyone here.”

“That’s not true either. I quite like you.” Sirius admitted, quickly hoping to god his cheeks didn’t flush at his impromptu admission. 

You hummed in acknowledgement with a cheeky smile on your lips. “Is that why you made me dinner? As a thanks for being the most tolerable coworker?”

“Most tolerable, certainly. Also for saving our arses tonight in the kitchen; I’m not sure how you managed to keep those folks so happy all evening.”

“Oh, that’s easy; get them drunk and steal desserts from the kitchen.”

“That’s where all my tiramisu was going?” Sirius asked in faux contempt.

You only smiled at him and shoved the last bite of your pasta in your mouth.

“You minx.” He continued, taking the now empty plates to the kitchen as you followed dutifully behind him with the glasses. 

“Get out of my kitchen.” Sirius joked, plucking the wine glasses from your hands as he moved to wash the dishes.

“I’d think not.” You argued. “I got a free meal; put me to work, chef.”

“First of all, it was not a free meal; you more than earned it after your performance tonight. Secondly, don’t call me chef.”

“Why not? You are a chef, aren’t you?” You teased as you leaned sideways against the counter to watch him work.

“Yes; but if you call me chef, what am I supposed to call you?”

Your eyebrows raised at that. “What do you mean ‘what are you supposed to call me’? My name is fine.”

“My name’s not chef.” He countered.

Your eyes narrowed challengingly at him. “What do you want to call me, Sirius?”

Mine?

“Haven’t decided yet.” He said instead, keeping his eyes on the dishes in his hands instead of meeting your gaze currently burning into the side of his head.

“Well…” You started, walking over to release some paper from the chit, and scribbling something out on it. “Why don’t you just call me…tomorrow?” You said, handing him the paper after he dried his hands on a teatowel.

Your number was scrawled out with a dainty little heart beside it.

Sirius looked back up at you to see you smiling shyly at him.

“I can assure you I will be.” He promised.

Your smile grew at that as you began walking backwards towards the backroom. 

“Have a nice night, Sirius.” You said before you exited the kitchen.

It was too late to wish him a nice night; he’d already had one.

[superhaught]

Sweetest Girl (Chapter Five)

Pairing: Regina George x Reader

Warning(s): continuation of angst but don't worry

Word Count: 2250, part 5/5

First ever fully finished fic if you can believe it

as per usual, @sapphicantics saw it first <3

Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4

Monday: the remainder of the day was a special kind of hell crafted just for you. 

When you left Regina in the bathroom, you sprinted straight outside to the courtyard and collapsed on the ground against a tree trunk and just sobbed. Full on shaking, head-in-hands, sobbed. If someone were there to ask you what was wrong, you wouldn’t know what to say. You were just… so overwhelmed. 

You didn’t even know when you got close enough to Regina that it hurt in your chest so bad to be… to be, what? In a fight with her? Was it even a fight? 

Everything you were feeling was a nightmare. 

You were confused but you were pissed at her for being confusing. And you were still trying to be nice and understanding but you were fucking hurt. You felt stupid for even allowing yourself to catch feelings for the mean girl. But you felt stupider for thinking that because Regina wasn’t mean. Not really.

So you just sobbed. You sobbed through your lunch hour and stopped yourself when the bell rang. You stood up, wiped your face with your sleeve, dusted your pants off, and went to class. There was nothing else to do right now, and you didn’t want this thing with Regina to ruin another class today. 

And even though you tried your best, you couldn’t focus through the end of the day. Suddenly, the final bell went off and you were being dismissed with no recollection of the past three hours worth of lectures. 

You walked home from school, taking the long way so that you could listen to fifteen more minutes worth of music and therefore, get fifteen more minutes without having to think. 

You didn’t see Regina again after your conversation in the bathroom. You were glad that she didn’t see you being a pathetic wreck over this. 

When Regina was left alone in the bathroom, she clenched her fists so hard that her manicure hurt her palms. She locked herself in a stall and punched the door after slamming in shut as tears stung the corners of her eyes. 

She took one deep breath. And then another. Trying desperately to calm herself. But it didn’t work. 

Nothing made sense. 

Regina knew, had known, for a long time, that she liked girls. But more importantly, she knew that she wasn’t supposed to. 

So her crush on Janis had to die along with their friendship. 

The tension with Cady was… well that was its own thing. Getting hit by a goddamn bus nipped that in the bud pretty quick.

She always got by pretending. She could date boys for a couple weeks at a time, perform the way she was supposed to, even have sex with them. It didn’t matter that she hated it as long as no one was the wiser. 

But you… 

You were different. 

She liked you. She really fucking liked you. And she also hated you for it. Because you were going to ruin her life. And she knew it. 

You were too fucking sweet. And too fucking perfect. And when she thought about it too hard, Regina would think stupid shit like “I’d rather get hit by three busses in rapid succession than lose that perfect, sweet, fucking infuriating girl.” 

Regina punched the bathroom stall door one more time to make herself cry because she needed to cry but she also needed an excuse to and so as the tears started to fall she took out one of those paper toilet seat covers and laid it down on the seat before sitting down and bawling. 

Twenty minutes later, Regina walked out of the stall and took her portable ice roller out of her purse, swiping it under her eyes a few times while sniffling. She cleaned her face and reapplied her makeup and then left school and took herself home early. 

Regina told her mom that she wasn’t feeling well, went straight to her bedroom, dry-swallowed her prescription naproxen, and went to sleep. 

Tuesday: you stuck to your routine to stay sane. 

You woke up at 5:30 and walked to school. You were able to get inside as soon as the doors were unlocked. You went to the weight room and worked out for ten minutes so that it wouldn’t look weird for you to use the showers, even though you were the only soul there at that hour. Then you went to the cafeteria to pick up your free breakfast. Couldn’t complain today, you always liked the cinnamon Texas toast. 

You ate, attended your early class, and then sat out front to read while your classmates rolled in before first period. 

Once again, you heard Regina’s Jeep before you saw it. You didn’t want to look up, but you did anyway. 

You watched her park her car but she didn’t get out. You watched Gretchen and Karen walk across the parking lot and tap on her window just to be apparently shooed away, because they came back looking like kicked puppies. 

You had to leave to get to class on time so you never saw Regina get out of her car and walk into the school. 

So you waited anxiously until chemistry, but she never showed. 

When class ended, you walked up to your teacher’s desk.

She looked up, “yes?” 

“I know you can’t actually answer this… but do you know why Regina wasn't in class today?” 

“I figured you’d have a better idea than me, why do you ask?” 

“I’m just worried about her.” 

Your teacher smiled, “then, I’d suggest you tell her that.” 

You nodded and left. Taking a deep breath, you took your phone out and sent a tentative text to Regina. 

Hey, you weren’t in class. You okay?

A few minutes passed but then she responded, had a meeting at the same time. Y? Miss me? 

You rolled your eyes and typed back, will you be in class tomorrow? Just wanna know how many lectures I’ll have to catch you up on. 

You’re sweet. But I’m very accomplished at chemistry now, remember? 

She sent a double text a moment later, I’ll probably make an appearance. 

Again, yours and Regina’s paths didn’t cross for the rest of the day. By the time you were leaving the building to go home, Regina’s parking space was already empty. 

You sighed and began your trek with plans to stop for groceries at the store on the way. 

After purchasing the cheapest loaf of white bread and as many cans as twenty dollars could buy. But before you checked out, you replaced one Hormel chili can with a Mountain Dew from the fridge in the check out aisle. 

Regina stuck it out for the whole day this time but she was first out of the parking lot when the day ended. Nothing could keep her in that building longer than she had to be right now. 

The only issue was that she didn’t want to go home either. 

Without thinking about it too much, Regina ended up putting her car in park in the same spot that she dropped you off that weekend.

She sighed and stretched her neck from one side to the other. She was sore from physical therapy earlier. 

After sitting there for twenty minutes cycling through radio stations all playing the same top forty songs, she realized that she didn’t know what she was doing there. She didn’t know what she would say to you if she saw you. She didn’t want to talk to you… really talk to you… until she had it all figured out.

Regina turned her car back on, pulled back onto the paved road and went home.

Wednesday: the next morning went like any other, with the exception of trudging to school in the pouring rain. 

The night prior, you ate poorly heated-up chili out of a paper bowl and wrote a note for Regina. It culminated to just a few sentences, but you chewed on the end of your pen like it was the most important essay you’d ever written. 

You hoped that it would make some kind of difference. 

You sped through the halls to get to chemistry a few minutes early and you placed the paper note on her seat with the can of Mountain Dew on top of it. 

You were seated by the time Regina came into the classroom. 

She went straight to her desk and set her tote down on the surface then picked up the Mountain Dew and looked over at you, her eyebrow raised. 

You gave her a nervous smile and mouthed “read the note.” 

She rolled her eyes but did as she was told, picking up the paper and then sitting down. 

Regina read: 

“I noticed smuggled Mountain Dews in your bedroom minifridge last time I was there, I assume you don’t usually get to indulge… peace offering? 

I’m sorry. I haven’t handled this right. Can we talk after class, please?” 

Regina tapped her nails on the side of the can and then glanced back over to you with a gentle smile. She nodded and mouthed back, “thank you.” 

Your knee bounced anxiously throughout the entire chem lecture. Once dismissed, you filed out of the classroom and found Regina waiting for you across the hall. 

“You’re fueling a bad habit, you know.” The blonde quipped. 

You smiled and nodded, but had a hard time meeting her eyes. You looked at the floor instead. 

“Hey,” Regina spoke softly, “I’m not going to bite.” 

You finally looked up at her, “I said things to you that I regret, I shouldn’t-“ 

“Are you seriously apologizing to me right now? I should be the one apologizing.” 

“You? Why?” 

Regina scoffed, “for everything that I did. For freaking out. For dragging you out of my house. And… for this…” 

You just stood there and gave her a confused expression. 

Regina sighed and looked down at her hands as she whispered, “I’m sorry… I don’t think I can do this… I don’t… I don’t want to hurt you anymore than I already have…” 

“Regina…” you instinctively stepped forward and reached for her hand but she pulled away from it. 

The blonde looked around the hall and saw curious eyes starting to fall on the both of you. 

You watched her hands begin to tremble before she clasped them together.  

“I can’t do this… please… please try to understand…” 

You looked around the hall, too. You saw the eyes of your classmates. Those scrutinizing eyes that had pegged you and Regina each as two completely different things before your ages even reached double digits. Eyes that belonged to people who decided that Regina would always be one way, and you would always be another. 

You took a deep breath in and looked at the blonde again, “I… I understand, Regina.” 

The blonde swallowed a pained sound in her throat and almost reached for you. Almost. She managed to choke out, “what can I do?” She was shaking and her eyes were watering. It broke you. 

You started to cry openly, letting the tears fall freely, and you shrugged, “I dunno, Gina… I just… I hope you take care of yourself, ‘kay?” You started to turn to walk away. You didn’t want Regina, or the entire school, to see you cry. You didn’t want to be in this for any longer. You didn’t want Regina George to have any more of a hold on you than she already did. 

“Wait!” 

You heard the blonde call out after you but you were already pushing the door to the exterior open. 

“Wait!” She called out again but the rain was drowning everything besides your own heartbeat out now. 

You didn’t stop until a hand closed around your wrist and halted you. 

Regina. She was there. Standing out in the rain with you. She grasped your wrist while rain drenched her perfect hair and began to melt her perfect makeup and wet her perfect clothes. 

Your classmates were pressed up against glass windows, watching like vultures while Regina George chased someone outside. 

You just stared at her. 

Regina sobbed and then laughed hysterically and shook her head, “I’ve been such a fucking idiot!” 

You continued to stare. You didn’t know what else to do with Regina holding your wrist and apparently losing it. 

She shook her head again, “you can’t just walk away… you can’t let me ruin this because you think it’s the noble thing to do… you should… you should be selfish…” 

“What are you saying?” 

Regina stepped a hair closer to you and lifted her free hand up, gently cradling your cheek in her palm, “I almost threw away the only person who’s actually given a shit about me… because I was scared… and you would have let it happen because you thought it’s what I wanted… because you’re too sweet for your own good… and because… I’m a liar… and I have spent… so long… caring about what other people think of me… I’m exhausted… I’m exhausted and I don’t care anymore… the only thing I want is to kiss you… please… please let me kiss you…” 

You slowly pulled your wrist out of her grasp, but not to pull away from her. You grabbed Regina George’s face in your hands and pulled her in and pressed your lips to hers. 

More importantly, Regina George wrapped her arms around you and kissed you back.

[ravenssilver]

I would adore if you could make an Aeon angst where he feels abandoned or like he’s not worth being in the ministry, and one of the ghouls (any of your choice) finds him and comforts him? You don’t have to if you don’t want too I’m just in love with your writing!!

ahh anon !! i will happily throw out some aeon/swiss hurt/comfort. you feed into my muse🫶���

here is me indulging in my favorite thing—aka 2.2k words of aeon feeling abandoned and swiss loving on him anyway🤍

cw: aeon being anxious, aeon has minor abandonment issues, minor panic attack

under the cut, if you please<3

Aeon was giddy after a particularly good ritual. He and Swiss seemed to have developed a pre-show ritual of practically being attached to each other’s hips and walking on stage together. He had hit every note perfectly and gotten to every cue, bouncing happily to the beat of the songs all the while. The audience had been fantastic and he had gotten at least five bat plushes thrown at him before bows, and he was sure some of the crew had picked up the rest.

Though, as Aeon took a quick shower to get all his sweat off, he thought about the other ghouls during the ritual.

Cirrus and Cumulus didn’t pay him any mind whenever he went over to them, Dewdrop seemed annoyed when Aeon was all over him during Absolution, Rain didn’t seem all that amused by the slides in Watcher, and Papa seemed actually upset when he had cut in front of him for his part in Year Zero.

Aeon frowned when he remembered how he had subconsciously given up on interacting with the band after Mary On a Cross when Papa didn’t even look at him when the song quieted down for a few measures.

And during Square Hammer, his final chance to maybe get an interaction, Aurora was play flirting with Swiss from across the stage when Aeon was meant to be on her platform.

Aeon hissed when he accidentally got soap in his eye, a frown etched on his face as he felt his heart aching with doubt in himself.

Did his packmates think he was annoying? Did Papa think he was annoying?

Maybe they’re just tired… Yeah, that had to be it. He didn’t remember doing anything wrong, much less annoying.

Aeon quickly finished up with his shower and changed into some clothes he had stolen from Swiss, grinning when he saw the slight bagginess of his pack mate’s clothes on him.

With a pep in his step due to his shower and how he now felt clean, Aeon happily left the dressing room and went to the parking lot where the buses were.

Though, as soon as he got outside he froze in his tracks.

The buses were gone.

A distressed sound left Aeon and be spun around in a circle as if the building behind him would’ve somehow turned into the tour buses. Aeon chuffed worriedly when he just saw the door he had come out of and went back inside, some of his glamor starting to slip as his thoughts spiraled.

They left him. They got on the busses and left him alone. He was stuck—trapped.

Abandoned.

A distressed whine left Aeon and he picked up the pace of his footsteps, desperate to find his pack or his Papa. Aeon felt like his throat was closing up, his ears pinned and twitching at every single noise he heard as his hands started to shake.

Much to his dismay, instead of someone he knew, Aeon ran into a member of the venue staff and he had hurt himself by quickly throwing up his glamor.

Aeon’s head pulsed with an intense ache as his eyes darted around, his glamoured nails clicking as he picked at them.

“Hey, are you alright?” The woman asked, her eyebrows furrowed as she placed her hand on Aeon’s shoulder. Aeon wanted to say yes, try to reassure her that he was fine when he so clearly wasn’t. But when his throat closed up even tighter, tears welled in his eyes and his shaking became a lot more obvious.

“Woah, it’s okay, breathe. Why aren’t you with everyone else out back? They’re leaving for the hotel in about five minutes,” The woman said, her eyebrows furrowed as she tried to get Aeon to calm down.

A tear fell from Aeon’s lash line when she told him that. He nodded and turned on his heel, rushing away from her as he went to the back of the venue.

Nobody had told him that there was a rest day after that nights ritual. Nobody had told him that they would be going to a hotel that night instead of getting back on the buses.

Aeon rushed outside, signing in relief when he saw Papa and the rest of his pack standing outside of a van. He wiped his eyes and face of tears, trying to cover up the panic in his scent that he knew was there.

“Ah, there you are,” Copia sighed when Aeon silently walked up next to Rain, huddled in on himself. “We’ve been waiting for you. Where have you been?” Copia asked, his eyes narrowed.

“I didn’t-“ Aeon went to respond, only for Copia to throw his hands up in the air and mumble annoyed Italian to himself as he went to make sure all their bags were ready to go to the hotel.

Another distressed sound left Aeon as he felt a pit form in his stomach. He looked down and pulled the hood of Swiss’ hoodie up over his head, hiding his face from his pack who weren’t paying attention anyway.

Aeon’s shoulders shook as he messed with the end of his sleeves, his body trembling with anxiety as his thoughts continued to spiral.

Look what you did, you made Papa mad. You held everyone up and now they’re all mad at you. You’re cutting off their resting time like a total idiot. How dumb do you have to be to not remember a schedule?

Aeon clambered into the van first as soon as the doors opened, wanting the front row seat closest to the window on the drivers side so nobody would see his tears.

He heard a low growl from Dew, as that was usually the fire ghoul’s spot, the annoyed sound only adding fuel to the dumpster fire that was Aeon’s brain.

He buckled and curled into himself, burying his face in his knees as his thoughts just went further and further down the spiral of self doubt and insecurity.

The next twenty minutes went by in a blur. One moment Aeon was curled up into himself on an uncomfortable seat—the next, Aeon was curled up on an uncomfortable hotel couch as he stared at the wall, tears slowly trailing down his face.

Aeon had fully unglamoured, his tail wrapped tightly around his ankle as his claws dragged along the discolored part of his face around his right eye. Waves and waves of distress rolled off of him as he whimpered every now and then.

They all hate you. You’re just a replacement for someone they all loved. A penny in the crater sized hole in their hearts where the prior quintessence ghoul was.

The better quintessence ghoul.

Aeon sobbed, closing his eyes and burying his face into the hoodie he had stolen from his favorite multi-ghoul.

He wasn’t Swiss’ favorite, though.

Aeon whined and immediately tore off Swiss’ hoodie and sweatpants, chucking the clothes across the hotel room, leaving him in his boxers.

Aeon snuffled and laid back down, curling up into himself even tighter as to fight off the chill of the unreasonably cold hotel room.

He wanted Swiss. Dewdrop, even.

He wanted to be warm. He wanted to be loved. Appreciated by the creatures he had around him everyday. Aeon loved the crowd’s praise, but he wanted his pack now. Even just one of them would suffice.

He wanted to know that they saw how hard he was trying. He wanted to know that they appreciated him for stepping into shoes that were far too big and running the miles anyway.

He just wanted to be seen.

“Stardust..?”

Aeon picked up his head and looked over at the door to his hotel room, his ear twitching as he heard Swiss’ voice.

“Hey… Aeon, you awake? C’mon, your scent changed, I know you hear me..” Swiss said, knocking on the door again.

Aeon looked over at the digital clock that was across the room, taking a moment to remember everything Mountain taught him about reading a clock.

It had been two hours since they got to the hotel.

“Bug? Can you come to the door?” Swiss spoke again, regaining Aeon’s attention.

Aeon scrambled up, not wanting to annoy Swiss even more than he thought he had. Aeon snatched the duvet on his bed and struggled to get it off the mattress due to the unnecessarily tight tucking of the bedding.

As soon as Aeon managed to get the duvet off the bed, he fell to the floor with a yelp due to how suddenly the tension released. The little quint scrambled back up to his feet and wrapped the duvet around his mostly bare body, ignoring the pain in his hip from the fall.

Aeon opened the door and peaked through, his lilac eyes staring up into Swiss’. The multi-ghoul quickly moved closer when he saw Aeon wasn’t glamoured.

And to Aeon’s dismay, that allowed Swiss to see the tear streaks on his face.

“Stardust, what’s wrong?” Swiss frowned, gently cupping Aeon’s cheek with his big hand. Aeon snuffled, choking back a sob as he leaned into Swiss’ hand.

Swiss frowned and crowded Aeon back into his room, closing the hotel door and locking it before he brought Aeon over to his bed and sat him down, pulling the duvet around tighter around the smaller ghoul’s body when he felt how cold it was in the room.

“Talk to me, Tommy, what’s wrong?” Swiss spoke softly, his eyebrows creased with worry as he brushed his thumb over the little quint’s cheekbone. Aeon’s bloodshot eyes hesitantly looked into Swiss’ as he sniffled again, wiping the snot away from his face with his wrist.

It was gross, but Swiss was far too concerned about Aeon’s tears to even notice his actions.

“I… I feel like you don’t like me. Like-“ Aeon sobbed softly and covered his face. “Like you’ve all been lying to me and that you don’t want me here…”

Swiss’ heart shattered.

“Oh, bug…” Swiss whispered as he swept Aeon up into his arms. It was all he could say at the moment, his own devastation rushing through him.

Swiss didn’t know what he or the pack had done to make Aeon feel this way, but he would kick himself for eternity because of it.

“You will always, always be wanted, Stardust. I know that if the others were here, they’d be all over you telling you the exact same thing.” Swiss whispered, holding Aeon close to his chest as the smaller ghoul sobbed out all his sudden and overwhelming emotions.

Swiss let Aeon cry, not once shushing him or trying to get him to stop crying. He didn’t want Aeon to feel like he was being a burden, so Swiss let him cry until he felt better.

“Swiss…?” Aeon whispered after about 10 or so minutes, seemingly shy. Swiss hummed and looked down at Aeon, staring into his lilac eyes with as much love and affection that he could muster. “I… can you get my clothes..? I threw them over there…” Aeon mumbled, pointing across the room.

“Of course, babybat, one second,” Swiss said immediately, gently setting Aeon back on the mattress and pressing a kiss to his forehead before rushing over to where Aeon had pointed.

Swiss picked up the dark gray hoodie and sweatpants, his eyebrows furrowing when he recognized the feel of the fabric.

“Are these mine?” Swiss asked, wondering if they were his favorite set that he had lost. Aeon shrunk into himself and nodded as Swiss walked over. “I took them a few months ago.. I’m sorry..” Aeon apologized, looking sad.

“Don’t be sorry,” Swiss smiled, shaking his head as he gently guided Aeon to unwrap himself of the duvet. Swiss mumbled a quiet: “watch your horns…” as he slipped the hoodie over Aeon’s head, smiling when he saw just how adorable the smaller ghoul looked in his clothes.

“The gray matches your skin better anyway,” Swiss shrugged with a grin, ruffling Aeon’s shaggy black hair and helping him into the sweatpants. Aeon chirruped softly and leaned into Swiss’ touch, a quiet little purr starting up in his chest as Swiss swept him off his feet.

Aeon laughed happily, a grin on his face as Swiss laid him down, his head resting on the pillows. Swiss re-situated the bedding and laid down next to Aeon after flicking off all the lights, nuzzling Aeon’s nose as they settled into the bed together.

“Feeling better…?” Swiss asked softly, brushing his thumb over Aeon’s cheekbone, his eyes taking in Aeon’s appearance in the darkness. Aeon thought for a moment before nodding slightly, only to shake his head.

Swiss frowned, cupping Aeon’s jaw with his big hand.

“Talk to me?”

Aeon sighed a bit before starting to explain.

“You made me feel better than I did.. but I.. I guess I’m still thinking about the others. You can only promise so much, y’know?” Aeon mumbled, sounding sad. Swiss’ frown deepened but Aeon was right.

From the quint’s point of view, Swiss’ words about the others were just as good as the lies his brain was feeding him.

“Do you want me to talk to them? Have them talk to you?” Swiss asked, wanting Aeon to feel at home in the pack. “Can I… um.. can I try to talk to them first?” Aeon asked, sounding nervous.

Swiss’ heart swelled and he nodded immediately.

“Of course you can, Stardust. I’ll let you go about this however you please….” Swiss whispered, kissing Aeon’s forehead between his horns.

Aeon purred and leaned into the kiss, cuddling up closer to Swiss.

“Thank you, Swiss.”

“Anytime, Stardust.”

[cherry1sblog]

PAIRING:Lee heeseung x fem!reader

GENRES:smut,fluff,bullying,alcohol,party,unprotected sex (rember to wrap your Willy so the out come won’t be silly🌝)

WARNINGS there is bullying in this heeseung is basically a dick to y/n and nothing in this story is real!!! This is fan fiction and the way I write about heeseung is not the way I portray him as he’s a person himself this is simply for entertainment only !!

SUMMARY:heeseung had always bullied you through your 3 years of Highschool but never let anyone touch you other then him and if he found out someone did that was the end of it you were basically marked as his toy that’s until the summer of your junior year you had enough you were done with him always making fun of you and you hated the fact that after all he did I to you you still adored him and liked him but it dosent matter cause you wanted to leave your senior year with a banger so you were no longer your nerdy self still smart asf obvi but appearance wise different you got contacts new clothes thank god you guys didn’t have a dress code and most importantly you spent all summer learning how to do your makeup……

(Word count :………)

//FIRST DAY OF SENIOR YEAR\\

You woke up that day at 4 in the morning all tho school didn’t start till 7:40 you had 3 hours to get ready for you first last day of senior year you showers blow dried your hair styled it put in your contacts and lastly did you makeup you were ready to go feeling a bit scared slightly pulling your skirt up more revealing more of your thighs but you didn’t care you were going to do this no matter what and no one can stop you not even Lee heeseung

Walking into school heads turning new faces old faces appearing but everyone seemed to stair at you looking some took out there phones and took photos asking if they knew who you were that upset you a little you went to this school for 3 years and people only saw yourself really only when you became “pretty” but still u were now super nervous now but your rember your main target Lee heeseung you clutched your purse and went straight to your classroom people Turing around seeing who entered you sat in a random seat next to a girl you’ve never seen she seemed super bubbly she was quiet a talker to “hello!!”you were shocked by her sudden loudness “oh…sorry…that must’ve been to loud “she lowers her voice you giggled “it’s okay why do you seem so excited tho”she turend to you with a big smile “well it’s my last year of Highschool and I get to meet new people so I’m really exited I Gusse “you just nodded an okay “oh I’m chu btw!” Ofc a cute girl with a cute name made sense “I’m y/n” you smiled at her “I’m guessing that this isn’t your first year “”nope I’ve gon sense freshman year here so I can tell you a lot about here if u want “she smiled brightly and hugged you you’ve never had a freind before so this was all knew “tysm!! Oh sorry is hugging now your thing”she looked at you but you didn’t know if the only freind you were sorta making would leave you if she found out but you trusted her “ah sorry I’m just not really used to having freinds or talking to people “she looked at you confused “your littlest drop dead gorgeous and no one can take there eyes off you” you giggled awkwardly “okay I’ll tell you I a secret up until my junior year I was a big nerd and I wanted a change so here’s the knew and improved me “you smiled happily until ofc someone had to walk in and ruin your fun lee heeseung

Your smile went down and chu noticed “what’s wrong y/n”he heard her say your name and wiped his head that way looking confused cause he didn’t notice you until chu said your name again “y/nnn can you hear me are you okay “ you let out a little cough rember not to break “yeah I’m okay sorry “and just as you were minding your busses heeseung came up to you “wow I really can believe it they park y/n dosent look like a nerd anymore “u just rolled your eyes at him “what do you want lee I’m not playing games with you anymore “he came close to your ear “just cause you changed dosent mean you aren’t my toy still isn’t that right doll”you didn’t know what to say he always caught your tongue “now go get me some snacks from the lunch room I’m hungry “he put 20 dollars on the desk expecting you to pick it up and run over there like always “no”you looked up at him and stood up took the money and threw it at him chu also seemingly upset “you know what heeseung if you want a stupid snack go get it your damn self “he seemed shocked a your response but started to smirk “right I’m sorry I wouldn’t want you running in that skirt you might wanna pull it down “chu getting ready to defend you but you didn’t need her to cause this is what you prepared for all summer “no I think it’s fine actually it’s ment to be like this but if you done being a dick you can go “everyone in the class stunned now not at the fact that you just told off they lee heeseung but at the fact that your the girl who used to do everyone’s homework that you were heeseung toy but just cause your not a nerd anymore dosent mean your not still off limits

//lunch time\\

By lunch time you already had 9 boys come to ask you for your insta and 12 girls ask what different makeup products you use or what you skin care was but those were the good things there were people saying you had gotten plastic surgery you did certain things just to get the money for your stuff people even said there was no way you were lee heeseungs little toy and if you wondering why they call you Lee heeseungs toy it’s cause he could pick at every part of you body and you did what he wanted he could slap you pull your hair push you and you still always did what he wanted you to do but he had made it every clear that you were only his to fuck with and no one eleses

You had saten down with chu to eat lunch her happily taking a bite of food made you happy you finally had a friend well let’s say a couple freinds you had met this boy really shy but nice named soobin and another boy who was more outgoing beomgyu they were also new and just transferred so your guises group was prefect but anyways you all were sitting down and enjoyed your food you were happy for once out of your Highschool life you finally had people you could go to the mall with have sleepovers go to party’s with but ofc like always you were knocked out of you thoughts by yet again heeseung he had just pushed a kid to the floor for getting him the wrong dumplings him jake and sunghoon walking away from the boy they had just scared heeseung walked passed you but Sunghoon said something and walked back to where you were “hey y/n” you looked up seeing as Sunghoon and Jake never really participated in heeseungs stupidness but they did have there fare share of “fun “with it “hey sunghoon”you said coldly”huh “he stuck his tongue threw his cheek “it really is you then HOWD you get so much hotter over summer I mean you were a cute girl but now your really js something eles “as he was about to start going closer heeseung pushed him away not to hard but just enough to make him stumble “what the hell do you think your doing “ “not like your ever gonna do anything plus she wouldn’t dare you even if you wanted we all know she’s your toy but she can speak for herself “ you saw heeseung clenching his fist but it made you angry how he thought he could control you “I told you everyone knows y/n is off limits “ “off limits to bully I’m not bullying her I’m simpling asking if she wants to go out sometime “ as heeseung was about to open his mouth you answerd “y-yes “they both looked stunned beomgyu soobin and chu having there mouths open wide “I would like to go out with you sometime “ “doll chose very wisely here “ “you don’t get to control me heeseung I’m done with your bull shit you can’t just walk all over me agian “ heeseung Just loooked at you with an expression you couldn’t understand “you heard her anyways y/n uh I’ll pick you up Saturday and 4:30 “you nodded your head smiling heesung had stormed off at that point.

//the next day\\

“Y/NN THERE YOU ARE “chu comes rushing to you sitting pulling out the chair and sitting in it she seemed to exited “yk chu sometimes I wonder if you on something “she just laughs “we’re not talking about that rn LOOK THO” she hands you her phone and it was a party ofc the boys were having as a welcome back to school like they did every year but you had never gone but this year you were definitely going no matter what even if you had to sneak out “holy shit the back to school party “”yeah it’s gonna be at jakes house tonight so we better go shopping after school “you both looked at eachother cause obviously you guys had no idea what to wear to a back to school party

//at the mall\\

“Ughhhhh y/n we’ve been to three dress shops already and you’ve liked non of them “she said dragging her feet with bags in her hands “look chu my dress it has to be different then something I would normally wear if I was the old me remember we’re gonna go out with a banger and If I were you I would go return the dress cause this dress shop is they best”as soon as you guys step into the dress shop chus mouth drops and gose to pick up a dress “Y/N YOU WERE SO RIGHT OMG “ you start to look for dresses to seeing witch one you like it came down to three dresses a white one simple and short but cute a blue one the had sparkles and a slimy black one with a diamond straps as soon as you came out in the blue one chu loved it it fit your body perfectly glitter on is and everything you would be shining with the lights they would have and you knew this was gonna be the one you got some simple black heels to for the dress witch you loved as you guys were leaving the store ofc you had to see heeseung and 6 of his guy freinds you were fucked “yooo hold up “Jake stops you and everyone is looking at you and chu”see what I tell you heeseung it was her and uh what’s your name”he looks at chu confused “o-oh I’m chu”he looked at her up and down “cute” your a bit nervous cause everyone still had there eyes on you normally you would just hide away but no you weren’t going to go down “my god can you fucking pervs look at something eles “heeseung grabed your had and took you into a hallway where others weren’t at “h-HEY let go of me “he released your arm and put u up agains the wall making you a bit flustered “doll see your starting to piss me off just cause you where this stupid shit only makes you look like a slut and you going out with Sunghoon lemme just tell you this if you wake up the next day and he’s gone don’t ever expect to hear from him again and this big mouth of yours needs to learn how to shut the fuck up “he let you go as you feel to the floor being in this position triggered something and you remembered

-flash back-

The three girls you were so afraid of had gotten done beating you leaving you on the rooftop heeseung had come out of the corner he was watching everything happen in coming up to you you looked up at him and your eyes got watery he grabed your face and looked at you “don’t cry it only makes you look pathetic”and he let go of your face and walked away later that day you found a bandage on you desk but didn’t know who put it there

-end of flash back-

“OMG Y/n”chu ran up to you finding you on the floor holding your chest “are you okay what happend did he hurt you are you crying “”I’m im fine chu ty “she helped you up and you guys left the mall you didn’t have time to cry and be sad you were going to this party no matter what like you said

//arriving at party\\

Soobin had picked you guys up all four of you guys going to the party as u guys got off people do what they do gossiping like there’s no tmrw anyways you walk thru the door being greeted by Sunoo even tho he was friends with the boys he wasn’t a complete jack ass “omg so glad you guys could make it” hugging u and chu and giving the boys a side hug “well um if u guys want drinks there in the kitchen and yeah pretty much just enjoy but go greet the boys if u want “ u guys nodded beomgyu chu and soobin going to say hi to there friends as you went alone to go get a drink “hey you guys want a drink “they all nodded saying a beer was good u walked into the kitchen seeing people make out drinking laughing and partying as this was your first party you didn’t imagine it to be exactly like the tv Highschool shows but hey you couldn’t complain walking up to the alcohol section seeing jay and sunghoon he waved at you as u came up to him “damn y/n you look amazing “Sunghoon said “thank you I didn’t exactly know if this was a good fit but now that I know you like it I’m guessing it was “sunghoon and jay scanning you from top to bottom “so uh y/n you want a drink “jay had asked “yeah just give me four beers “he nodded sunghoon pulling you by your waist and bending down to your ear a little “hey I just wanted to make sure you were okay yk after what happened”you felt an Aw because he actually cared you wispers back into his ear “yeah I’m fine I wasn’t gonne let him get to me “he smirked looking at you and gave u a kiss witch you were not prepared for but ofc someone was watching you the entire time and pushed him off you “what the fuck sunghoon”you could tell heeseung was mad but why what reasons did he have to be upset “oh hey heeseung”sunghoon smirked at him like as if he knew he wasn’t supposed to be doing what he just did “don’t fucking hey heeseung me what the fuck do you think your doing “ “I mean I thought it was pretty clear I was kissing her “hey you guys cmon don’t fight “jay stood beetween the boys “yeah cmon heeseung don’t sweat it we’re just having some fun “ those words hurt you you thought sunghoon liked you or were you really just there for his entertainment now?

You put your head down a bit upset and you saw heeseung smirking “what’s wrong doll I told you aren’t I right “ you were annoyed at heeseung at the fact he was right again but you felt embarrassed “shut the fuck up heeseung “ “dont be mad doll you guys were just having fun right “ in that moment it clicked to sunghoon the way he had said it and he felt bad “wait y/n that’s not how I mean it” u we’re gonna take this as your opportunity to get back at heeseung “you smiled at Sunghoon going up to him whispering in his ear leaving heeseung and jay curious “don’t worry I know we’re having fun but heeseung just ruined it so can you take me where we can have fun” you left sunghoon speechless the girl who always had to run errands for his bsf and who would always get picked on was now so bold and a bit flustered “u-uh yeah sure “ he grabed your arm guiding you to what you assumed was jakes guest room but as you looked back you could see a very annoyed heeseung

//15 min after entering the room\\

As you and sunghoon were making out his shirt already off and your dress guliding up to your hips sunghoon s hands placed on your thighs massaging them you were nervous but just as he was about to go under you stopped him “hoon wait um it’s my first time so I’m kinda scared”he just smiled at you “hey we don’t have to do it if you don’t want we can take things slow” maybe heeseung was wrong maybe he really did like you and you were gonna shove it in his face that you and his bsf were gonna be together “well do u js wanna watch a movie and cuddle” by this time you were ready to sleep so u agreed “yeah but um do you know if Jake has any clothes to borrow or I could js sleep in this I don’t wanna bother” he got you and went to a drawer in the room “scince we stay at jakes a lot we basically all have are own room heres my shirt “ he throws you a plain white tee but no pants so you look confused at him a bit “oh did you want like shorts or somthing sorry” he was about to go back but you stopped him “no like this is fine I actually prefer to sleep like this “ he just nodded and he went to change into something more comfortable but you didn’t expect him to come back with no shirt so you gasped seeing his pretty toned body “what?” He asks you just blush and shake your head as he smirks the rest of the night was fun but you fell asleep that night not thinking anything of it

//the next morning \\

Your eyes fluttered as you heard a knock on the door and seeing Jake come in the room made you panic and in that moment you wanted to die sunghoon still sleep until “YO WHAT THE FUCK SUNGHOON” and in that moment sunghoon woke up “nah dude I feel so betrayed you promised to help me clean but instead you got to fuck y/n “ and cause ofc everyone had heard jake yell Niki sunoo and heeseung came to the room and your eyes met heeseungs and you could see clearly he was upset “ Jake we didn’t fuck she just slept over “ “yk that’s hard to BELIEVE when she’s wearing your shirt and you have no shirt “ Jake had a point but it was the truth you guys really had not done anything “actually it wouldn’t be hard to believe sense y/n s a slut” you got up from the bed and threw the pillow at heeseung “you know heeseung just cause your a fucking whore dosent mean I am and I just borrowed his clothes you idiot so fuck off “ scince you had no shorts and just a shirt the boys just looked at you niki and sunoo deciding it was better to leave but heeseung was about to say something but sunghoon had cut him off “ hyung can you please just let this go “ and with that sunghoon just closed the door on them and locked it and in that moment you both realized you had school “ughhh we have school “ “we can always skip “ you quickly refused never once missing a day not wanting to hurt your perfect attendance “ cmon y/n don’t be such a nerd or are you still the old y/n?” You knew he was only saying that to persuade you but it did work “ I mean n-no I just um wouldn’t know what we would do “ sunghoon just shook his head at you “ we could just chill go to the mall do anything are you really that boring ?” Offended at his hitting him on his bicep “let’s just chill then “

//after schoo\\

After school normally the boys would all go to jakes house tk study play games shit like that witch they all did thinking that y/n would be gone by then but they were very wrong when they see y/n and sunghoon on the couch asleep “holy shit heeseung hyung is not gonna be happy” jungwon picked you up and ran with you on his back you being confused when jungwon locked his door and threw you on the bed “WHAT TH-“ jungwon covers your mouth muffling your yelling until you stoped “shut the fuck up unless you want to make heeseung hyung and sunghoon hyung hate eachother more right now “ honestly you couldn’t give a fuck less and if this made heeseung miserable then you had every reason not to care “ why should I care on fact I actually don’t mind going back ou-“ jungwon grabed your hand pinning you on the wall wtf is it with everyone pinning you on the wall “ look I know heeseung hyung did fucked up shit and I know it’s fucked up we didn’t do anything but we all grow from our mistakes and plus now your like hot so please just shut the fuck up and well stay in here”.

———————————————————————————-

Okay well I’m im just gonna leave this here I feel like I had y’all eating for too long I honestly thought I would be done with this by now but I went on a family vacation recently so I had no time but I’ll try to make the next part as quick as possible ty all sm for being patient

[kcalsforhim]

˖⋆࿐໋ thursday 19th of december

⋆˙⟡

can confirm : worst day of my life. i woke up and i told myself, ur so sick and genuinely didn’t sleep at all, today food is your fuel. it’s a sad reality im shameful i really am, but you have to understand i needed to get to college today

at 4:50 am i had breakfast, i took no photos because i felt such deep shame, i was calling with eli and i remember saying that my tray looked like i was in recovery cause of the volume. i wanna cry just thinking about it. i didn’t count cause i knew i would end it all

breakfast :

some leftovers from yesterday, less than yesterday though.

1 slices of bread with chicken meat on it, also had ketchup and mayo.

a banana, 2 lotus cookies, and some kind of other sweet cookie thing

maybe 10 g of paprika potato chips ?

it made me feel bad eating, i actually really didn’t want to. i got dressed 3x slower than usual, everything hurt so bad. soso bad. i tried zipping up my jacket when i left the house and i literally couldn’t and i was so mad it woke my dad up and he zipped it up for me sigh…

i went to school and i fell asleep in the train, haku called me awake tho. i walked so slow haku later told me it actually pissed him off but he knew it couldn’t be helped…

during college i didn’t do much, i coloured some of my animation cause my hands were too shaky to continue on lineart, it all hurt so bad. i watched rupauls drag race with haku, which was funny

i went home and when i was walking i literally felt so terrible , just as terrible as when i fasted for 70 hours or when i started doing 500 cal omad at START WEIGHT.. that was so bad lol

we went to the amazing oriental and i got 2 onigiri’s and a sweet roll thing. the pack had 2 of those so i gave haku one. eli sent me some money so i didn’t feel guilty spending the money lol

then i went home in the train, and afterwards i took the bus cause thank lord himself i already had 10k steps by then and i still did get extra steps cause my busses changed and now the bus that stops the closest to my house is still 10-15 mins away

got home exhausted tired and barely conscious sadly. i had a little autistic meltdown trying to get undressed i literally broke one of the buttons on my jacket mmm..

dinner :

1 tuna onigiri, 1 salmon onigiri, one vanilla cream sweet roll thing

the onigiri’s were so good ! i love eating it super cold it’s delicious. the sweet rolls were like, super fluffy like cloud bread and the cream was so sweeeeet and delicious

dinner 2 :

3 1/8’th slices of pepperoni pizza, 2 kinder bueno sticks

yeah so i only wanted to eat the last kinder bueno we had, it was going to be a long time since i would have those again, im not buying myself anything like that unless my parents or someone else buys it for me of THEIR will, i will not ask anyone for it. but my mom got a bit upset at me and told me she didn’t believe i had food and urged me to grab something so i did i dont know why i didn’t make a fuss

i should’ve flushed it, but i felt so disgustingly defeated.. so i just ate it. i thought “fuck it, i already fucked up enough, might as well eat fucking pizza at this point”

i fell asleep soon after eating that, makeup on, lashes on, contacts in… i woke up at 12 am feeling refreshed. i cleaned my face and took out my contacts and i watched reels until 2 am. i couldn’t stop sending haku reels and he literally said “go to sleep” and i was like ahaha… okaay… so i went to sleep

im kind of disappointed in myself, but i also can’t blame myself. the day before i totally overdid myself running a whole ass marathon and then not getting any sleep it was crazy. i don’t know what possessed me… but. it’s fine. days start fresh i guess.

only the last thigh picture was taken recently, the rest are all just recents, and the before pictures were all taken in the high 70 kgs… 75-79 kg range… it’s all so terrible…

cals : N.V.T but too many sigh

steps : 12.1 k

love her

⋆˙⟡

[quixoticall]

This Could Get Ugly Track 3: The Upside Down Tour

Summary: It's 1983 and The Downsides need another lead singer and you just happen to need a band--it's a perfect match. The only issue? You have to pretend to be in a relationship with your bandmate, Steve Harrington, but you can't help but be drawn to the band's broody guitar player.

pairing: s.h. x fem!reader, e.m. x fem!reader, j.b. x n.w.,

warnings: ANGST, drinking, drug use, some minor panic attacks, mention of serious illness and subsequent treatment (poor ill Will)

A/N: Hello! I want to say thank you to all of you for the lovely feedback! I know it's been a minute, but I've been extra busy because I had family visiting for the holiday! But we're back to regularly scheduled programming!

wc: 7.8k

MASTERLIST🎸

PLAY PREVIOUS TRACK 🎹

***

ARGYLE: The first day of tour was always like the first day of school and summer camp and vacation all put together but that very first tour was all of that times a thousand.

They had these buses that had the name of the band on one side and our faces on the other, man, like huge Argyle and Eddie and Nancy and everyone else, it was crazy. Jonathan bought his camera and he took photos of all of us next to our giant selves as the crew was loading up. I sent mine to my mom.

It was all good vibes at the beginning, everyone was so excited. Hopper even brought his kid. We didn’t know Hopper had a kid before that. We didn’t know a lot about Hopper, actually. But it was nice to have the kid around, kept us all on our best behaviors, well during the day anyway. 

*** 

February 1984, On the Road: Upside Down Tour

“There’s no way my jaw is that crooked, Robin come look at the angle of Big Steve's jaw, will ya?”

“Shut up, Steve, Jonathan’s taking my picture with Big Robin, have someone else  measure the angle of your jaw!”

Steve turns imploringly to you and you can’t help but indulge him.  

“Your jaw looks fine, Steve, very symmetrical.”

“Eddie, man, if you stand right there, and kinda lean this way, it looks like you’re eating yourself!”

“Ah, that’s sick, Byers come here and take a picture of me eating myself when you’re done with Buckley!”

“Hey, no fair, we were next!”

“Worry about fixing your crooked jaw first, man.”

 “You said my jaw looked fine,” Steve turned towards you, accusingly.

“Hmmm, let me take a closer look,” you say, teasingly taking Steve’s face in your hands and making a big show of moving your gaze between the giant, two-dimensional Steve and the real Steve in front of you. You tilt his head one way, and then the next a few times over, pretending to be deep in thought.

“It looks fine,” you finally say, “no more crooked than the real thing.”

You punctuate your statement with a light tap on his cheek and he grins at you before coming to a realization.

“Are you saying my jaw is crooked?”

He chases you around the tour buses until you are both out of breath and then when Jonathan comes up to you, camera in hand, and the two of you pose stop to strike a pose that mirrors your giant selves, turned towards in each other, lips slightly pursed, as if preparing for a kiss. That kiss of course, never comes. 

Things have been like this between you and Steve since the press tour, warmer, affectionate even, but with the understanding that there was no deeper meaning behind the affection. You were simply doing your job. 

When Hopper is finally able to wrangle everyone onto their respective busses, you are already behind schedule. His threats don’t have their usual impact though, because even he’s been infected with the band’s giddiness at being on the road. 

You think you even see him smile when he introduces his daughter, a soft-spoken girl named Jane who immediately asks everyone to call her El and looks about 15.

Something about Hopper feeling comfortable enough to have his daughter join the tour made you feel like there was a huge responsibility on your shoulders to be a good role model—a feeling you’d never really had before.

There was a lot about being on tour that was strange and foreign in a way that was specific to you, like bunking with Nancy and Robin on the tour bus.

“It’ll be like a slumber party!” Robin exclaimed. You could see Nancy’s eyes go wide behind her at this, almost as if she’s questioning what she’s gotten herself into. 

“I’ve never been to a slumber party,” you tell them, unsure if your reaction should be more like Robin’s or Nancy’s.

“Well, we are honored to be your first,” Robin says as she bounces off her bunk to sit next to you, looping an arm through yours and leaning her head on your shoulder.

***

EDDIE: The first stop of the tour was San Francisco—we got there two days before the show and checked into a hotel that was  nice as fuck—well, compared to what I was used to, anyways— and they gave us all our own rooms down the hall from one another. I remember asking Wheeler if that was what college was like and she just laughed and said, “Kinda, but it smelled way worse.”

Everyone was so happy to be there, even me. It was a far cry from Corroded Coffin, sure. But at the end of the day, I was making music and even though I wasn’t really that close to the rest of the band, they were good people. Everyone respected each other and partied just the right amount. Wheeler did a good job of keeping us in line. Plus, we were still so wide-eyed and bushy-tailed, we hadn’t really fallen into our new old habits by then.

***

Once in the hotel, Hopper handed out room assignments and he even looking a bit apologetic when he lets you and Steve know that, at label’s request, you and Steve were assigned connecting rooms. 

You didn’t have it in you to let the fact that Starcourt was controlling where you slept get to you and instead decide to try an enjoy where you are. 

Nancy, who was as much of an older sister to the group as she was to her real family, had organized an evening of sightseeing for the band around the city during your first night there.

Walking through downtown, you had a hard time taking in the sites because you were too preoccupied watching Eddie. Eddie, who, from what little you knew of his past, never had the opportunity to travel, was like a child, taking in the sights, pointing to anything of interest, and excitedly exclaiming, “Can you believe that shit?” to anyone within earshot, including El and Hopper.

“You watch your mouth around my fucking kid, Munson,” Hopper had told him.

The entire drive to the Golden Gate Bridge he just kept saying “Holy shit, holy shit, holy shit,” like he could genuinely not contain his excitement.

It was oddly endearing.

***

EDDIE: I know you know how fucking awesome the GGB  is.

***

February 4th, 1984, San Francisco, CA. The Upside Down Tour

The same lighthearted energy carried over to the next day’s soundcheck and until a few hours before the show when a cloud of nervous energy seemed to descend all at once.

The entire time you were in hair and makeup all you could think about was all the different ways the show could go wrong. Were you prepared enough? What if the audience was a dud? Could you keep them entertained for two hours? Each question wound you tighter and tighter until you could not think straight and by the time you were set to go backstage you had half-convinced yourself to call it all off. But you immediately sobered at the sight of the madness that had overtaken your bandmates backstage: Robin was pacing from one corner to the next, wringing her hands and muttering to herself in a language you weren’t completely sure was English; Jonathan and Nancy sat huddled together on the floor while Nancy recited the setlist over and over again like a prayer; Argyle was sitting by himself in a corner, tapping his drumsticks erratically against his knees with one hand while trying to braid his hair with the other; Eddie stood utterly stock still hold his guitar in front of him in an outstretched hand, talking to it like they were having a conversation; and worst of all, Steve was nowhere to be found. You looked around for Hopper, but he was also missing, so you went to the next best thing.

“Nancy, babe, look at me,” you say, kneeling next to her on the ground.

Her eyes bounce up to yours and in them, panic.

“Nancy,” you repeat her name again in a way that you hope is calming, “I know that you’re nervous, but I need you right now. Look around at the mess that everyone’s in. I need you to help me talk them down. I need you to make them believe it’s going to be fine. I need you to believe it’s going to be fine, okay? Because it will be. And because I can’t find Steve.” You say the last part low, in a meek attempt to mask the panic that is seeping into your tone. 

Nancy, who, as you had predicted, flourished in a crisis, hardens her jaw and narrows her eyes in focus.

“I’ll start with Jonathan and you go to Eddie, maybe we can get them to help us look for Steve in the bathrooms.”

You nod eagerly before making your way over to Eddie, who is still mid-conversation with his guitar. You approach slowly, careful not to spook him. 

“Hey, hello, I don’t mean to interrupt, but are you doing okay, Eddie?”

Eddie’s eyes snap to you like it’s the first time he’s noticed you were there.

“Who? Us? Yup, totally fine, just having a bit of a pep talk,” he says between haggard breaths. Where the hell is Hopper?

“Hm, yeah, see, the words that you’re saying and the way that you’re saying them lead me to believe that maybe you’re not fine,” you try to sound as gentle as you can when you say this and try not to flinch as Eddie turns to face you, his whole face taunt with fear.

“Well, it’s not like I’m not a total fraud and loser who completely blew it with his last band and is only part of this band because he sold his soul to an evil corporation that told the rest of you you had to let him play with you, right? Because then I would have reason to be nervous. Oh, wait—"

“Eddie,” you interrupt, reaching up to grasp his face in your hands, bringing him down to your eye level, “you’re being too hard on yourself right now, okay? You have earned your spot here just as much as anyone else in the band. You’re a great guitarist, and a great songwriter—almost as good as me—“ he lets out a breathless laugh”— and you’re gonna go on that stage tonight and be your usual talented self and blow their minds because you’re Eddie Fucking Munson, got it?”

“Got it,” he whispers, eyes blown wide, and at that moment you realize that you’re so close now your nose almost brushes up against his.

“Good,” you say, pealing your hands away from his face to fall at your sides.

“Now, do you want to do some deep breaths or do you think you’re good to go on?”

“I think I’m good,” he croaks out, still a bit out of focus, but much more mellow.

“Great. Now, can you please help us look for Steve? We can’t find him.”

“Steve?” Eddie repeats, eyes narrowing in confusion.

“Yeah, we can’t find him anywhere and everyone’s freaking out and Hopper’s not here either so Nancy and I were hoping you could help us by checking the bathrooms.”

“Right, Harrington, your boyfriend. The bathrooms, I’ll go check.”

You watch as he turns away and heads in the direction of the bathroom and try not to think about the way his shoulders dropped, the tiniest amount as he did.

Then, you turn your attention to the still-pacing Robin. “Robin, honey, can you please look at me?”

***

EDDIE: It was 20 minutes until the doors opened and Harrington was nowhere to be found. Jonathan and I checked all the bathrooms in the building and nothing. Finally, I got the bright idea to go out to the smoking area, not sure why, but, to my surprise there he was. I’m not going to lie, he looked a total mess: pacing back and forth, running his hands through his hair, muttering to himself.

I asked him what the hell he was doing there. He asked if he could bum a cigarette. I said, “Didn’t know you smoked, Harrington.” 

And he responded, “I don’t but the smell reminds me of my mom.” 

That’s when I knew the situation was grim—if someone shares information like that about a parent, unprovoked, they’re probably losing it. It was also at that point that I knew I was totally out of my depth. I had half a mind to turn around and go grab one of the girls or Jonathan, but I didn’t want him to run off on me again.

INTERVIEWER: So, what did you do?

EDDIE: I stayed and let him bum a cigarette. We stood there for a minute, smoking. The guy was coughing up a storm but he kept going. Harrington was always like that—just kept going no matter what. Eventually I just straight up asked him if he was nervous.

He responded with, “Theoretically, I’m not nervous at all, but in a much more, like real sense, I am shitting it, man.”

To this day, I don’t think he knows what the word ‘theoretical’ means.

I asked him what he had to be nervous about, it was just a show, and he was half of the reason people were there to see us, plus he was too talented to bomb. 

And then he looked at me with his big Harrington eyes and said, “I’m not worried about bombing I’m worried about everything else. Like, what if we get up there and we realize that everything we’ve given up, everything we’ve had to go through was for something mediocre and ordinary?”

I told him that was a stupid question and asked him what if it was the opposite. What if it was everything he had wanted? I mean he was halfway there already, right? He had the girl, the sold-out tour, it was only a matter of time before he had everything else he could’ve dreamed of. 

I thought I was being comforting but that only made him freak out more because then he said, “The more you have, the more you can lose and I don’t think I could handle losing any of this.” 

It took me a minute to respond because, I mean, on one hand, it was hard to sympathize with the guy who had everything I wanted and then some. On the other hand, though, I had been there. 

So, I told him about Chrissy and rehab and Corroded Coffin and that whole shit show.  Like a testimonial: “Local Fuck Up, Loses everything and somehow still keeps going!”  I didn’t hold back either, I told him how much it sucked to fall so far on your own.  I also told him that unlike me, he would never have to worry about that because he actually did have people looking out for him. That whole band was like his team, they wouldn’t let him fall like that, at least, not alone. 

Something I said must’ve resonated because he snapped out of it after that. We finished our cigarettes and we went inside. Right on time too, because Hopper was about to send out a manhunt for him. 

***

There were 10 minutes until the doors opened and Steve was still missing, and now, Eddie was gone too. Your mind flits to the possibility that you’ll have to go one without both of your key guitarists  but even just the thought of that is too much to stomach.

Meanwhile, Hopper is back and yelling at everyone in the vicinity. 

Robin, who’s at your side as the entire scene unfold, pulls in closer to whisper in your ear, “what if they ran away together?”

And just as you were getting ready to turn and ask her exactly what had possessed her to ask such a thing the two missing members of your band burst through the door harried, out of breath, and smelling of smoke, to come face-to-face with their furious manager.

Hopper dismisses Eddie with a wave of his hand and then turns his ire towards Steve. 

“Thank you,” you whisper to Eddie as he makes his way to your side. You reach down and give his hand an appreciative squeeze for good measure.

“No problem,” he responds thickly, “couldn’t leave a queen without her king.” Something about his tone makes you wince.

After Steve had been properly chastised by Hopper, the stage manager calls for places and everyone begins to disperse.

You’re making your way towards the stage when Steve reaches out for your hand. “Hey, sorry about that,” he starts, “nerves got to me, I guess.”

“ You know you could’ve talked to us, right? We were all nervous, too. We could’ve been nervous together. We’re supposed to be a team, aren’t we?”

Steve looks more ashamed now than he did when Hopper was yelling at him. 

“You’re right,” he says, “I promise to do better. You’ve got me and I’ve got you.” 

You smile back. 

“I’ve got you and you’ve got me.” 

And suddenly, the curtain rises. 

***

ARGYLE: That night in San Fran we were a mess  but then, you get us all on stage and it’s like none of that ever mattered. We were freaking rock stars, dude, and we were good too and I’m not just saying that because it was us— I would’ve been a fan even if I wasn’t in the band.

EDDIE: Yeah, we were all good, but what really brought people through the door was our lead singers. Them bouncing around on stage together, dancing and making eyes at each other—the audience loved it. They both knew how to play up to a crowd too. She would dance and move around the stage like a total natural—hot but not too hot, ya know? And Harrington had his cool guy act down pat. They were in total sync. It was like they belonged together. 

***

Walking down the stage steps, your head was abuzz with the excitement and satisfaction.

The band had done a great job, even better than during rehearsal and the audience’s energy was addicting. 

This had been what you were looking for all along.

Backstage, you had made sure to give each one of them a hug, even Hopper— as a congratulation, as a thank you, as an expression of disbelief that you were finally here. They all understood and they all returned the sentiment. For the first time it felt that you were all on equal footing as members of the band. For the first time, it felt like you belonged and that was worth celebrating. 

Eddie’s the last one off stage, and for a moment you debate hugging him. You’re not too sure if he’d return the gesture, given your history. But to your surprise, his arms are already open and you fall into them. And then, he did something surprises you even further:  he pulled you close, picks you up, and spins you around in his arms. 

***

ARGYLE: I’m pretty sure he smelled her hair before putting her down. 

***

February  28th,  1984, New Orleans, LA.  The Upside Down Tour

A few weeks into the tour,  Hopper pulls you and Eddie one morning while the rest of the band is off exploring the French Quarter.

“Hopper, can you do us a favor and let us know how long this’ll take? We’re supposed to get beg-nets with the gang today.”

“It’s pronounced ben-yays, Eddie,” you correct automatically as the two of you are ushered into the hotel room that doubled as your manager’s temporary office.

“Whatever it’s called, it’s fried dough with sugar and I refuse to miss that.”

“Can you two just sit down?” Hopper says exasperatedly motioning you two towards a couple of chairs that crowded his small, makeshift desk before sitting down himself and reaching for the phone. 

“I got them both here, Murray,” Hopper says gruffly as the crackle of the speakers fills the room.

Before Murray can fully greet you on the other line, Eddie interrupts. 

“Are we in trouble?”

“No. Should you be, Munson?“ 

“Murray, can we hurry this along? I’m taking my kid on a ghost tour.”

“Fine, fine, listen, kids, I just heard from Brenner and the Big Wigs—the rest of the tour is completely sold out which means that they want to start recording about five weeks after you get back from touring. This means we need songs by then and since you two wrote the best song on the last album, you’ve been promoted (with no pay) to main songwriters. So your homework is to get us at least 20 passable songs by the first week of July.”

“But we get back from tour in mid-June, Murray, that’s a really short turnaround time, don’t you think?” Your eyes dart to the other two in the room, to gauge their reactions.

Hopper shrugs, “Sometimes that’s just the way it is, kid.”

“Which is exactly why you two should start writing now while you’re on the road, trust me,” Murray’s voice crackles over the line.

You look at Eddie, who cocks an eyebrow at you as if he’s letting you know that it’s your call.

 “Okay, we’ll start writing as soon as possible,” you speak out loud.

“That’s what I like to hear! We can check back in once you get to LA.”

The three of you say your goodbyes and Hopper dismisses you and Eddie to join the others.

As the two of you walk down the hall towards the elevators, your mind is already bubbling over with ideas. This was your first big shot to do exactly what you’ve always wanted to do. This was more than just writing a few songs, it was about creating an album, and an image of where the band was going. This was huge.

***

EDDIE: To be honest I never really thought about my writing process. I would just pull out a notebook and a pen and start writing when I had something I thought was good—little bits here and there. She took everything so seriously though. The entire elevator ride down, she was talking my ear off about concepts and inspiration and “sonic vision”. Eventually, I just had to say, “Listen, why don’t we meet up in your hotel room after the show tonight and talk about it then?”

***

The rest of the day, it was like only part of your mind was present. The rest was floating around, thinking about what you wanted to write.

Of course, you had plenty of things written, but you weren’t sure if any of that would work. The next album needed to meet the rising momentum of the band’s popularity: it needed to be current but also true to where you were as a band. You needed to say the right things—and most importantly, you needed to say them in the right way.

Before you knew it, you were back in the hotel after soundcheck, freshly showered, standing in the threshold that connected Steve’s room to yours.

“Are you sure that’s how it’s  pronounced?” Steve's voice echoed from his bathroom, where he was brushing his teeth.

“I swear to you that it’s not pronounced Ee-too-fee, Steve. Why do you think the waiter laughed when you ordered?”

You come up behind him in the mirror running a brush through your still-wet hair.

“Because I’m naturally endearing and everything I say is charming,” he responds, catching your eye in the mirror.

“Whatever you say, Harrington.”

Before he can retort, a knock thunders through your room into his.

“Oh, that must be Eddie,” you say, turning on your heel to cross the threshold into your room.

“Munson?” Steve asks, befuddled.

“Yeah, he’s coming over to start writing some stuff. Murray’s on our case, remember?”

“Right, I just didn’t think you’d start tonight.”

You just shrug before disappearing into your room, “The sooner we get started, the sooner we finish.”

You don’t hear his response because you’re already at your door, swinging it open to reveal Eddie Munson standing in the hotel hallway, guitar case in one hand and beat-up notebook in the other.

“The Eagles?” He asked, eyeing the logon on the oversized t-shirt you wore.

You bristle as your fingers brush against your shirt suddenly self-conscious of the length.

His gaze follows the movement of your hand and then settles right where the hem of your shirt grazes your thigh.

It takes you a moment to find your voice. “What can I say? I’m a woman of taste.” 

***

EDDIE: I became an Eagles fan after that night. 

***

You lead Eddie into your hotel room and gesture towards the small sofa in the corner for him to set his things down.

Before joining him, you peek into Steve’s room to see him fully peering through the door. “Night, Steve,” you say with a gentle wave as you move to close the door.

“Night,” he says back softly, his eyes bouncing from your face to the room behind you where Eddie was setting up his things.

“Night, Munson,” he says finally, voice a bit tighter. 

“Goodnight Sweet Prince,” Eddie waves theatrically as you close the door between the two rooms and walk over to sit by his side.

“You two always leave the door open?” he asks, fiddling with his guitar strings.

The question makes you feel defensive.

“Um, no, not always, we just, say goodnight, sometimes we will talk about the shows a bit before. bed.”

Eddie quips an eyebrow at this but says nothing.

 “Should we get started then?”

***

EDDIE: That was my first time writing with her. That was my first time writing with anyone else, honestly. She asked me a lot of questions: about what themes I wanted to include; what concepts I thought would fit; if I had seen any movies that I thought could be good inspiration. It felt like a job interview.

I could tell that she’d been thinking a lot about this, maybe too much, actually. So, I told her that maybe we just needed to slow down a little bit, talk about what we had first, and then go from there. She agreed, but she still seemed pretty wound up, so I suggested we bust open the mini bar and we drank for a bit. I think we were both a little nervous to share our songs. It’s something kinda personal, to share your art with someone, ya know? And it’s always worse when it’s someone you know in your regular life—it’s like someone slices you open and takes a walk around your brain but then you have to see them the next day at work or whatever and you have to pretend they haven’t just taken a tour of the best and worst parts of you. 

And it wasn’t like we were particularly close back then, so there was some extra nerves there. Hence, the liquid courage. 

***

You and Eddie are about two (maybe three?) shooters in by the time you decide to get properly started.

Eddie volunteers his work for the two of you to go through first and you’re secretly grateful as he hands you his beat-up spiral notebook and you splay it across your lap to read over what he has. Eddie leans in to read too, and in doing so, his leg is flush against yours. He’s so close that his hair brushes against your cheek when he moves and you can smell him—earthy like pine and a tiny bit like menthol cigarettes.

You realize you might be a bit tipsier than you had thought because it takes extra effort to focus on the words in front of you.

His first few songs are good, but they don't match the vibe of the band.

"Too metal,” you say to him, pointing out the songs you’re referencing.

“Yeah, that makes sense, those were meant to be for my old band,” he responds.

You know enough about Eddie’s professional past to know that he used to be in a metal band before joining The Downsides and that it ended poorly, but not much else.

You flip through a few more pages before a few lines of lyrics catch your eye:

Don’t remember who I was then

Can’t keep straight where I was when

What’s my name? Where have I been?

Where did I start? Where does it end?

You’re the one thing I hold dear

The only thing that’s crystal clear

I live and die if you’re near

And all the scars disappears.

“This is something,” you hold the page up to Eddie.

He reads over the lines and grimaces.

“I wrote that right after I got out of rehab a few years ago. It didn’t really go anywhere...as you can see.”

This realization is sobering to hear. Mostly because it enlightens you to how little you know about your bandmate.  You spend a moment trying to categorize everything you know about Eddie and you come up sparse. You weren’t even entirely sure you knew how old he was. 

He seems to take your silence as you process this as judgment because you feel him scoot away, his face and body angled away from you.

You reach out and lay a hand on his arm, and he freezes.

“Thank you for sharing that with me,” you say slowly, before picking up his notebook again, this time with a newfound care.

“This,” you tap the lyrics, “doesn’t need to go anywhere. It can just stay here or wherever you want it to.”

***

EDDIE: It wasn’t the reaction I expected from her, but it was really nice to hear. 

***

You and Eddie flip through the rest of your respective songs, not really finding anything that both of you can agree on. There are a few stray lines that jump out from both your books but beyond that, there was nothing the two of you could agree on. It was pretty clear that you were both writing songs for artists that you no longer were. 

Right around the third hour together, you both decide to call it a night, but only under the condition that the next time you meet, you’ll both have come with something brand new written.

“Hey, thanks for coming,” you say, voice hushed as you usher Eddie to the door, “and thanks for letting me read your work.”

He just smiles in response, wide and beautiful and rare. 

“Don’t worry, princess, we’ll get there. This was just a test run,” he reminds you. 

You watch him make his way down the hall    Until he disappears but not before throwing one last, rare, smile your way.  

Once Eddie is gone, you all but drag yourself to your bed, yearning for that special hotel-pillow softness when you hear another knock. This time, from the door connecting your room to Steve’s. 

“Steve,” you pull the door open, “why are you awake? It’s like 4 AM.”

 “Can’t sleep,” he mumbles. “Can I hang out with you for a bit?”

His eyes are barely open and his hair is disheveled beyond belief. He looks young standing there in his worn-out pajama pants.

“Fine,” you say as you turn back into your room, “but I’m getting into bed because I’m tired.”

He follows you into your room and shuts the door behind him. You make a beeline for your bed to slide under the covers and Steve, meanwhile moves towards the couch.

“Why can’t you sleep, Steve?” you ask, burrowing into your duvet, eyes already closed. 

“I dunno, can’t stop thinking.”

“Thinking? You don’t need to be doing that.”

By the time he responds, you’re already asleep.

When you wake up the next morning, Steve is still there, asleep strewn across the tiny couch, hair even wilder than the night before.

***

ARGYLE: Tour life was the best life. A new city every night, the music was good, the crowds were crazy and the drugs were plentiful. And the parties! My dude, the parties! After every show we’d end the night at some bar or club with the band, the crew and more groupies than a dude could ever want. 

***

March 6th, 1984, Atlanta, GA. The Upside Down Tour

“You know, it’s not what you think.” Nancy’s voice can barely be heard over the sound of the thumping music of the basement bar that you’re in. 

“What?” You ask the keyboardist. 

She gestures subtly with a nod towards the corner that had been occupying your attention. Robin and Steve were huddled together in deep conversation, both leaning against the bar. A few spots away, Eddie sat with a pretty girl with locs. Over the last few minutes, you had watched as his hand made its way slowly up her thigh with an almost morbid sense of curiosity. 

Your eyes turn back to Nancy, unsure as to why she would weigh in on the flirtation between Eddie and the groupie. 

“Steve and Robin,” she elaborates, “I’ve seen you staring and I know what it looks like, but it’s not what you think. They’re close but just friends.”  

Oh. Steve and Robin. Right. 

“It doesn’t matter what they are and what I think of it, Nancy, because it’s none of my business,” you respond. 

She turns to face you, clearly ready to argue something back but you cut her off. 

“Where’s Jonathan? I haven’t seen him all night.” 

A grimace flashes across her face for brief moment, nearly imperceptible, but you catch it. 

”He’s back at the hotel room,” she replies tersely,  “on the phone with his mom. Will had another surgery today.” 

You wince. It was no secret that Jonathan‘s younger brother had fallen ill again. You had seen less and less of the bassist as the tour had progressed. He’d been spending any time that he wasn’t on stage trying to get ahold of his mom back home to ask about the progress of the youngest Byers boy.

You smile at Nancy in a way that you hope is reassuring and say, “Weren’t his chances of recovery high after his surgery, though?” 

Nancy exhaled deeply, “If everything goes well, then yes, chances of recovery are high.” 

She looks like she wants to say something more but cuts herself short. Her eyes float past you, to the newly appeared figure to your right. Steve. 

He smiles in greeting, his arm falling to graze in between your shoulder blades. His pupils are blown wide— a dead give away that he had partaken in whatever substance Argyle had been touting earlier in the evening.

Even high, he seemed to pick up on the serious mood between the two of you  and asks if everything is alright. You smile softly and nod, arm snaking around his back lightly. 

Nancy sighs in response. “We were just talking about Jonathan, actually I think I’m going to go check on him. Have a good night, you two,” she says and she looks at you and Steve, her eyes catching on the points where your bodies touch. 

As she pushes herself forward, ready to move towards the exit, Steve calls out after her.

The two of them lock eyes and they seem to be holding yet another silent conversation. While you can not decipher their secret language of raised eyebrows and scrunched noses, you can that they’re arguing about something and by the way their eyes keep bouncing to you, you can’t help but wonder if it’s you they’re arguing about and what you could’ve possible done to warrant that. 

Whatever their argument is about, it doesn’t seem to come to a resolution based on the way Nancy scoffs at Steve and rolls her eyes before bidding her final goodbye. 

“What was that all about?” You ask, when she’s finally out of sight.

“Nothing,” Steve says tightly, “Nance is trying to convince me she’s right about something that I knowshe’s wrong about and she won’t let it go.” 

This catches your attention. 

“Oh, yeah? And what possible could Nancy Wheeler be wrong about, pray tell,” you plea conspiratorially, turning fully to face him and drawing closer.

This leaves Steve gasping for words in a way that makes you wonder if he’s higher than you originally thought.

Before you can ask him if he’s alright, he  freezes as he spots something over your shoulder a weird expression taking over his face. You turn, following his line of sight to Robin locked in a very intimate embrace with the female bartender that was serving her and Steve earlier in the evening. The bartender leans upward to catch Robin’s lips and you hear Steve hiss, “Damn it,” under his breath. 

Of course, this must have been the thing that Steve and Nancy were arguing about. Steve and Robin must be in a fight. 

You scan back through your recent memories of them wondering if perhaps there had been signs of a growing rift that you may have missed but as far as you’d noticed things were normal between the two of them.

“Oh, Steve, I’m so sorry,” you sooth, finally turning back to face him.

“Don’t be, it’s only $50,” he dismisses with a wave of his hand. He must really be higher than you thought.

“What?” 

“The bet was only 50 bucks,” he explains, way too calm for someone who just saw the girl he’s in love with kissing another girl in a crowded bar. 

“I’m not sure I’m following,” you say slowly, before the realization dawns, “wait, is this some where sex thing the two of you do? Listen, as much as I like you both as friends and appreciate that you trust me with the details of your romantic relationship, we’re still, like, coworkers and I don’t really think I should be hearing what the two of you get up to intimately—“ 

“Woah, woah, woah, romantic relationship? Me and Robin are not in a romantic relationship and we definitely are not intimate in any sense of the word, and the fact that you think that makes me want to barf, actually. Why would you think that?” He asks, a wildness coloring his tone. 

“Well, you’re always together and you’re so close, and you’ve always been so secretive, sneaking around together and stuff,” you struggle to answer under his confused gaze. 

“No, we’re friends, capital ‘P’ platonic,” he explains, “always have been, always will.” He can clearly tell you’re still confused because he then begins to explain further, “ The bartender, and her have been flirting all night, but Robin was too chickenshit to make a move so I bet her $50 that she couldn’t get her phone number by the end of the night but it seems like she got more than just her phone number. Which I guess is a good thing because maybe now she’ll stop moping about that girl back in LA but it sucks that I’m out $50.” 

“Wait, Robin dates girls?” 

Steve winces, as if the realization of what he’s told you has just now hit him. 

“Sorry, that was not my information to reveal. Please, don’t mention it. Please. It’s not that Robin doesn’t trust you or like you it’s just that she’s trying to be extra careful about it. She doesn’t want it to get, you know, out out. Especially with all the new press we’re getting.”  

You nod back in understanding, “don’t worry, I won’t say anything. To anyone. I promise. I would never put Robin in that spot.” 

Relief immediately runs through Steve’s features.

“Although, if she wants to keep things under wraps,” you begin, glancing back to where Robin is still kissing the bartender, “maybe she doesn’t want to be making out with women in public?” 

Steve nods rapidly in response, “Yup, good call, we should take her back to the hotel.”

Rob proves to be a stubborn drunk, and it takes you and Steve about 20 minutes to cajole her out of the bartenders arms and into the back of a cab. 

She spend the entire ride back to the hotel going on and on about ”star-crossed  love” and the “malignant force is keeping her from her beloved disguising themselves as friends”. In response you simply nod along and  your hand up and down her back in a way that you hope is soothing. 

“At least you two have each other,” she says softly, patting your cheek as the cab slows to a stop in front of your downtown hotel.

Then, as she steps out onto  the sidewalk, her stance wavers and she leans in, essentially pinning you to the side of the cab. 

You think she might try to kiss you too, but instead she whispers, “Please be careful with his heart. Steve’s softer than you think, you know.”

*** 

It’s a joint effort between you and Steve to put Robin to bed. 

Makeup is gently removed, hair is pulled up, and pajamas put on, and a slumbering Robin is safely tucked into bed with a receipt with the bartender’s number and $50 bill placed on her nightstand, ready to greet her in the morning. 

“She’s gonna be so hung over tomorrow,” Steve remarks as the two of you amble down the hallway to your own rooms. 

“Does she always get like that when she drinks?” You ask. 

“What do you mean?”

“I don’t know, all, Shakespearean and nonsensical? She was saying all sorts of weird things back there. I think she even thought we were together. Which is actually kinda funny considering early tonight I thought the two of you were together,” you chuckle at the irony. 

Steve, however, looks distraught at this observation. Suddenly, he stops in front of your rooms and turns to you. 

“Is that why you’ve been acting so distant with me, because you thought I was with Robin?” 

You blush. 

“Partially, sure,” you stutter, “it’s hard to pretend to date your bandmate when you think he’s in love with your other bandmate. But, I also think it’s good that we maintain a healthy distance.” 

“Why?” 

The severity in his voice when he asks that takes you by surprise. 

“Well, because it helps us remember that none of it’s really,” you admit, carefully. 

You struggle to meet Steve’s eyes when you say this because, while it’s a fact that your relationship is a farce, speaking that out loud feels particularly cruel. 

You catch the movement of his throat as he swallows thickly but you can’t brave a look at his face. 

When he finally speaks, his voice is unsteady, “If there was no Starcourt and no contract and you and I were just two normal people, would you want us to be real?” 

He sounds so scared you can’t help but reach out for him, trying to offer some comfort. He accepts your small hand in both of his, thumbs grazing the back of your hand with much more gentleness than you’ve ever been offered. Than you think you deserve. 

You can’t help but meet his gaze then, and the way he looks at you, vulnerable and hopeful is nearly too much to bear. 

“I don’t know,” you begin, tears building at your lash line, because you truly don’t.  

You think back, in earnest, to all you’ve come to learn about one another and how easy it is to be around him. You think about the way you find comfort in his touch and he in yours. And you think about the two of you performing and how every time you’re on stage with him, it feels like there’s no one else but you and Steve. 

The shrill ding of the elevator brings you crashing down to reality, to the dingy hotel hallway and the beautiful boy in front of you with the pleading eyes. 

Footsteps and giggles make echo down the hall, coming closer. Both you and Steve turn towards the noise, temporarily forgetting your very serious conversation. 

Suddenly, Eddie appears around the corner, the pretty girl from bar on his heels. 

He stops abruptly at the sight of you and Steve. You turn your face in the other direction, quickly. You don’t want him to see you in this state, teary and distressed, especially not while he’s with this beautiful stranger, so you hide yourself against Steve’s chest. 

There’s a terse quiet that follows while you’re sure Eddie assesses the situation. 

You can tell by the way Steve gently curls his arm around your shoulder that the two of them must be having some weird silent  standoff. 

“Wait,” you hear Eddie’s companion shrill, “are you Steve Harrington and—“

“Yes, that’s them, sweetheart, in the flesh,” Eddie cuts her off and you can hear them start moving down the hallway again, “How about we give the lovebirds their privacy and you and I pick up where we left off in the cab?” 

You listen to their footsteps growing fainter and fainter and when you’re sure it’s just you and Steve, you pull yourself out of his embrace, to face him once again.

“What I want doesn’t matter, Steve,” you admit, sadly, “not when everyone is depending on us fulfilling our contract.” 

He sighs, “I don’t understand why we can’t fulfill the contract while being together? Wouldn’t we be more believable if we didn’t have to pretend? If it was actually real?”

He didn’t get it. 

“Maybe, but what if things go badly? What if we’re happy for a little while but then we realize we can’t stand each other? Then what? We either break up the band or we are forced to keep pretending just like we are now but this time, we hate each other? ” 

You think of your parents and how they lived separate lives for as long as you could remember, speaking to each other only when absolutely necessary. You’re sure they didn’t intend to hate each other at first. 

“What if we find out we really like each other?” He argues back gently, “what if things work out great and we’re happy?” 

You wouldn’t know how to do that. No one ever taught you how to love without it hurting. 

“No,” you say, sadly shaking your head, “someone will just end up getting hurt.” 

Steve clutches your hand tighter, one final supplication. “If someone has to get hurt, I’ll make sure it’s me.” 

Full tears are streaming down your face now as you gently pull your hand out of Steve’s grasp. 

“That’s what I’m afraid of,” you tell him, turning away from him while you still can, leaving him standing alone in the hall. 

PLAY NEXT TRACK

Taglist:

@rexorangecouny , @persophonekarter @mystargirl-interlude @brinleighsstuff @thegaysaretired @nothing2-see

[heartevent]

Ok picture you're me, recent OCD diagnosis, you love to smoke weed. So it's late at night, you're sitting on your little patio with your cat watching tiktoks, and you got one about the rumors of a night club serial killer in NYC. You're a bit anxious because you know some people who like to party in the city, but its nothing crazy and you're still enjoying your weed, until you get the worst fucking feeling you could possibly imagine. Like disgustingly terrible. All you could feel was "there is a serial killer here right now." You chalk it up to your weed and OCD flippin shit, but it's still weighing on you and getting worse. Then, you hear your neighbor call in their pet and you knew it was right then that you had to get you and your cat inside the house. You were fucking terrified. You get inside and lock the doors, and then chill out for the night. You forget about that moment.

Next day comes, and you're sitting outside with your mom talking about how your sister's bus schedule was weird, and the busses were running super late, and your mom reads you an email she just received, saying how the busses were late due to police activity in the area. You remember what came across your for you page and tell her about the serial killer rumor you read about last night, and she looks at you like you have two heads for mentioning that out of nowhere. You say that what she said about the police activity made you think of that, and she goes "Lets go on facebook to see what they're saying, oh look, people are asking about it! It's happening right down the street." She opens the comments. She paused. She looks at you with fear on her face. She informs you that less than a mile from your home, someone was murdered, dismembered, and stuffed into a suitcase. The body was discovered at about noon today. Article says someone near where the body was found heard a woman scream at 3:00am Sunday night. The body was likely placed at its spot when you were outside smoking the night before. There actually was a killer nearby. What would you do

[jewfrogs]

Heyo! Your posts about Greek myths not being fanfiction (excellently said ) but also that retelling have roots and reasons, how would you class the percy Jackson series, could it be fanfiction about the myths? And how would you class very loose retellings of myths, for example Uyllesse Dies At Dawn the album by The Mechanisms?

hello! that post seems so ancient to me, it’s wild that it’s going around again…..

i don’t disagree with anything i said, but i wish i’d drawn more on fan studies scholarship (remember that this is a subject of real, meaningful academic study!); nonetheless, what i wrote is similar to what seems to be the disciplinary consensus. the introduction to the fan fiction studies reader understands fanfiction as “historically situated in the last forty years, tending to respond to a specific form of media texts, and encompassing a specific amateur infrastructure for its creation, distribution, and reception.”[1] i would argue that these parameters are definitional, the pillars that make fanfic fanfic. i don’t believe fanfic can be fanfic without intention—that is, it’s not fanfic if you don’t know you’re writing fanfic.[2] ripping fanfic out of this framework deprives the form of meaning.

the works you mention are adaptations, which are another beast entirely.[3] linda hutcheon places adaptation alongside “imitation, allusion, parody, travesty, pastiche, and quotation as popular creative ways of deriving art from art”[4]—we might add fanfiction to this list. it is another way of deriving art from art, a way which happens within these “amateur infrastructures” of fan communities, which responds to a source with work inspired by and dependent on that source,[5] which is produced by and for fans and within fandom. fanfic occupies spaces that original fiction cannot. thus something cannot simultaneously be original fiction and fanfiction; they are mutually exclusive.[6]

re: greco-roman mythology specifically, i feel like we can safely say that this has been sufficiently absorbed into the social milieu as a “cultural universal”—to borrow a phrase from john djisenu[7]—that drawing on/responding to something so broad and ubiquitous is far distinct from writing a story about the characters and occurrences and settings of, say, one singular book series (with a single author, owner, publisher, etc.). classics are everywhere. classical adaptations, in various forms, far predate fanfic (and, in almost all of those forms, their aims and efforts are very, very different from fanfic). these are simply not the same. ask yourself: could someone post this on ao3? if not, it is not fanfic. rita dove would not post the darker face of the earth on ao3. it is not fanfic.

i appreciate your asking! have a delightful day! (footnotes under the cut)

[1] karen hellekson and kristina busse, the fan fiction studies reader (iowa city: university of iowa press, 2014): 7.

[2] i don’t mean this as any sort of moral maxim—people may write what we might call fanfic without knowing the word fanfic, such as a 7 year old writing a story where the my little ponies hang out with her, but overwhelmingly knowledge (and readership) of fanfic precedes production of fanfic. people who write fanfic are always aware that they are writing derivative, transformative fiction spun out of other fiction.

[3] with their own academic discipline! there is lots of literature in adaptation studies; as a sampler see thomas m. leitch (ed.), the oxford handbook of adaptation studies (oxford: oxford university press, 2017) and the oxford journal adaptation (started in 2008).

[4] linda hutcheon, “on the art of adaptation,” daedalus 133, no. 2 (2004): 109.

[5] this is not to diminish the artistic merit of fanfic, which can undoubtedly be beautiful and may be appreciated outside of its origins (i’ve read and loved my fair share of friends’ fic that i know nothing about), but it is naturally unable to stand alone; there is no fanfic if there is nothing to write fanfic about.

[6] this is why we see the phenomenon of “filing off the serial numbers” when people want to publish fanfic as original fiction; the work must be stripped of its nature and repainted to pass as something it is not. (this is also why that practice is only possible with fanfic that wasn’t very good to begin with—good fanfic is strongly rooted in its characters and canon [whether or not it is compliant with that canon].)

[7] john djisenu, “cross-cultural bonds between ancient greece and africa: implications of contemporary staging practices,” in lorna hardwick and carol gillespie (eds.), classics in post-colonial worlds (oxford: oxford university press, 2007): 72.

[michelleleewise]

Frozen Hearts

Pairing: Loki x Reader

Warnings: mentions of past trauma, swearing, self esteem issues, mentions of past abuse (somewhat graphic) self deprecating thoughts, insecurities, anxiety, mentions of blood and surgery.

Summary: you try to process the last couple days, as your past creeps up on you

Part 3-

====================================

You spent the next few days in your room, avoiding everyone. Matt had messaged you apologizing but you hadn't answered him. The look of pity on Loki's face replaying in your mind from the other night. You didn't need anyone feeling sorry for you. You rolled over looking at the clock seeing it was 3am, knowing everyone would be asleep or out you made your way to the kitchen, maybe some tea would help. You were headed back to your room, not paying attention when you ran into someone, the hot tea spilling all down your front. You gasped as it burt your skin while you tried to pull your shirt away. You looked up seeing Loki staring at you "dammit Loki, can't you watch where your going!" You yelled fanning your skin.

"I didn't see you, I didn't know anyone would be awake." He said. You huffed, fanning yourself with your shirt, you looked up to see Loki looking down. You followed his gaze to see your shirt had lifted revealing your scars. You panicked, pulling your shirt down and shoving past him. "Y/n." You heard him call behind you "screw off laufeyson." You called back slamming your door shut. You pulled your shirt off seeing your skin red and blotchy. "Shit" you said to yourself, grabbing a shirt heading to the bathroom. You jumped in the shower, closing your eyes as the memories flooded in.

4 years ago-

You got off the bus in New York. You were overwhelmed with how big everything was. You looked down at the address, confident you would find answers. A few busses later you were standing in front of an apartment building, it was huge and fancy, you hadn't seen anything like it. You walked in looking around at the high ceilings and large windows, you felt very out of place. "Can I help you miss?" Someone asked. You saw a man behind a desk so you smiled and walked over "Yes, I'm looking for Mr. and Mrs. Y/l/n." You said looking at him. "And who may I say you are?" He asked. "Oh, I'm y/n, their daughter." You smiled. He got on the phone, looking at you a few times before hanging up. "Miss, they said they don't have a daughter." He said as your face dropped. "What do you mean? I am there daughter." You said looking at the man. "Im sorry miss, but they said they don't. And I'm gonna need to ask you to leave." He said waving to the door. "Just, let me talk to them, please, I have no where else to go." You pleaded. "Miss, leave or I'll have to call the police."

You sighed and nodded before leaving. You waited outside hoping maybe they would leave and you could talk to them. You heard the doorman greet them as they came out so you ran up to them "I know you don't know me, but I'm y/n, your daughter, I came here to find you." You said looking at them. Your mother was wearing a long fancy dress with a fur wrapped around her shoulders and your father was In a fancy suit, they looked at you and scoffed "we don't have a daughter." The woman said looking down at you. "Yes, you do, the orphanage told me your names, I was able to find your address and here I am." You said with your arms out. They looked at eachother before the man spoke "we left you there for a reason, we don't want you, we never did, so why don't you go back." He said straightening his tie. "But, I came all this way." You said as your face fell. "I'm sure there's a shelter for people like you here somewhere." The woman said looking at you. You looked down as they walked off. You were completely alone in a large city with no money.

You pressed your forehead against the shower wall, feeling the tears building behind your eyelids. Remembering foster home after foster home you were shipped to

No wonder your parents left you, look at you...

No one will ever want you....

You'll never amount to anything, your useless....

Your only here because I'm paid to keep you....

The last foster family was the final straw. You had been place with them when you were 17, knowing one more year you would be free, you went with it and tried to stay out of the way. They had you sleeping in the basement, away from everyone else. Only allowed to come up for meals and go to school. Luckily the basement had a shower and toilet. You sat on your mattress on the floor, holding the paper with their address. Just one year, you could deal with that. Until the day that you foster mom came home and caught you upstairs. You snuck up every now and then when no one was home but she came home early. "What are you doing up here!? Your place is the basement!" She screamed at you. You tried to make it past her but she grabbed your hair, holding you in place. She dragged you to the basement door while you tried to release her grip on your hair. "No dinner tonight and I don't want to see you up here again!" She yelled and shoved you toward the stairs, you tripped falling all the way down.

You layed there for awhile before deciding you needed to leave. You got up and winced, pretty sure you had cracked a rib, but were determined to leave. You packed your backpack, seeing it was late you snuck upstairs, slowly opening the door. It was completely dark, so you snuck to the door, seeing your foster moms purse, you dug in it for her wallet, pocketing all the cash she had and headed to the bus station.

3 years ago-

You had been going shelter to shelter, trying to stay off the street. You had been on your own for while and knew the streets of New York aren't to be taken lightly. You ran to make it before they closed but as you got there the man said they were full and turned you away. You wandered the streets, trying to find a somewhat safe place to get some rest. You were walking down an alley trying to make it to the park when you heard footsteps behind you. Panic began to rise in you as you walked faster. The sooner you were in a lit area the better. "Hey you." You heard someone call but you you ignored it and walked faster. You heard them catching up so you started to run, you were almost out of the alley when someone grabbed your bag and yanked you back, landing you on your back.

You looked up to see three women and a man. "Give us your money" one said looking at you. "I don't have any." You said standing up. "Then give us the bag." Another said grabbing your bag. "No, that's everything I own." You said pulling away. "Give it to us or we'll take it." The guy said walking closer "no, just leave me alone." You said walking away but one of them grabbed you, spinning you around when you felt a sharp pain. You gasped, looking down seeing the knife in your lower abdomen. You looked up the girl holding the knife as she drug it across your skin cutting you open. You dropped to your knees as she released you. They grabbed your backpack and ran, leaving you alone and bleeding. You put your hand on your abdomen, slowly getting up making it to the end of the alley.

Your vision was blurry as someone grabbed you and said something you couldn't make out when you blacked out. You opened your eyes seeing lights passing over your head, hearing someone talking "there's too much damage, we need to take it out." You heard as you blacked out again. You weren't sure how much time passes before you woke up again. You looked around at the all white room when someone came in. The doctor you assumed told you what happened, and what they had to do. You cradled your stomach as the tears fell. "You don't have any insurance so we can keep you here a couple days, then we have to release you." He said getting up.

You got out of the shower, getting into your pajamas, looking again at the scars. A constant reminder of your weakness and inadequacy. You would never be normal, you would only ever be half a woman. You pulled your shirt down, climbing into bed. The look of pity Loki gave you replayed in your mind, you didn't want his sympathy or anyone else's.

@vbecker10 @lokisprettygirl22 @sinsandguilt @usagishira @cabingrlandrandomcrap @daggers-and-mischief @stupidthoughtsinwriting @catalina712 @kat-nee @mcufan72 @lokiprompts @123forgottherest @asgardianprincess1050 @midnights-ramblings @el-zef @froggiecky @sweetberry47

[rafecameronsbadussy]

Only You|| Surf’s Up (Ch. 1)

Summary: Reader wakes up to find herself in a typical predicament. She proceeds to join the pouges for some fun in the sun and surfs with a certain Maybank boy;).

Warnings: alcohol consumption

My work is not to be plagiarized.

A/n: Hello dears! I am so excited to bring this series to tumblr. I hope you will enjoy part one of Only You. I’m hoping I can get chapter two out by tomorrow <3.

—————

The Outer Banks, Paradise on Earth.

It's the sort of place where you either have two jobs or two houses. Two tribes one island.

There's figure eight, the rich side of the island. Home of the kooks. Guess where we don't live.

And then there's the south side, or "the cut". Home of the working class who make a living bussing tables, washing yachts, running charters. Natural habitat of drumroll please... the pouges.

There's JJ, my best friend since the third grade. He's about as local as they come. Latest in a long line of fishing, smuggling, vendetta holding, salt-lifers who made their living off the water. Best surfer I know, just don't tell him I said that.

Now there's Y/n. A pouge through and through.

Y/n and JJ have had a thing for each other for as long as anyone can remember. But they both keep... busy. When she's not batting her lashes, you'll find her raving about "real music", or how our society is going to implode because we're all too close-minded. She's definitely going somewhere, not far, but somewhere.

And there's Kiara, or Kie, as we call her. She's a rich kid, actually, foot in both worlds. And when she's not saving turtles, or listening to Marley, or getting a dolphin tattoo, she hangs out with us.

And there's Pope, the brains of the operation. Finalist for the Lucas T. Vanderhorst Merit Scholarship. And the smartest person I know. A little bit of a weirdo. He's a pouge, just like the rest of us.

So that’s my crew, and that’s me, John Booker Routledge.

—————

Y/n’s POV

Your eyes opened to an unfamiliar room, cluttered with clothes and sports paraphernalia.

"Shit," you mumble, slowly picking someone's arm off of you and slipping out of their bed. You turned away and started sliding on your half-wet bathing suit and clothes as quickly as possible, racking your brain for what happened last night.

"Hey," the guy grumbled, your face instinctively scrunched. Who is this mother fucker.

"Hey..." you whispered back, scrambling with your clothes and picking up your phone.

"Where are you going?" you slowly turn around at this.

"Breakfast," your eyes wandered around the room before discovering a sizable Tom Brady poster right above the bed that makes your eyes bulge.

"Come back to bed." Your eyes are drawn back as he grabs your arm and pulls you to sit on the bed.

"I will, hang on." You say squeezing his hand, smiling, and standing up. You tiptoe out of the house, thankfully making it out without confrontation.

Then a friendly brown van littered with stickers approaches from behind.

"No shit." You half-shout grinning. You hear John B and Kie whooping from inside.

"Woah Y/n, little early for a walk," JJ says. The Twinkie stops and Kie slides the back door open for you.

"You dirty girl." Kie teases.

"Haha very funny," you say smiling as you climb in and shut the door. You now recognize the area as Kie's neighborhood. The Twinkie begins moving once again, as you take your seat next to Kie.

"Shit Y/n, you're macking with kooks now." John B says from the driver's seat.

"I mean, gotta start networking to become a trophy wife early."

"That's what I'm sayin'," Kie adds, her hair blowing from the open windows

"Hey where's Pope?" you ask no one in particular.

"We're on our way over there now." John B replies.

"Ahh," you reply. Then, he and JJ start talking about fishing or some weird redneck shit.

"Sooo... how was it?" Kie questions grinning. You playfully roll your eyes and smile back.

"Who knows anymore, they all blend together."

"It looks like he liked it," she says, her smile still beaming, pointing to your neck. You pull out your phone to check.

"Oh my god." you start, "Men are literally feral, why am I getting marked like a piece of meat."

"He's gotta make sure you know you're his." her smile was stationary on her face.

"God."

"Come on baby, get back in bed and snuggle." she mocks, batting her lashes and pulling your arm.

"No because he basically said that," you respond, eyes widening. "That's not even the worst part. He had a Tom Brady poster above his bed."

"Noo," she replied, covering her mouth with her hand.

"Yeah," you respond, nodding.

"Girl,"

"Maybe this is my sign from the universe to stop hoeing around."

"Maybe,"

"Eh, I won't though." you and Kie laugh together. "What about you? I see the way you and a certain someone have been acting." you pester beaming from ear to ear.

"Shut your mouth," she says raising her eyebrows making you giggle more. She glances at the thankfully, still preoccupied boys, specifically the brunette. "You really can't talk, what about you and blondie?"

"We just flirt for fun. You on the other hand... I see the sly little kisses on the cheek. You're not as slick as you think Missy." you say, pointing an accusatory finger her way.

"You can kiss people on the cheek. Friends kiss each other on the cheek all the time."

"Oh really, when have you ever kissed me on the cheek."

"Uh-..." she starts.

"Exactly," you say, lowering your finger. She then pecks your cheek and your mouth hangs open, your hand flys to the distinct spot. You gasp lightly. "Wow,"

"Um-" a muddled, awkward Pope stands outside the open door of the van. You and Kie both burst into laughter.

—————

All the pouges and you lay sprawled out on the secluded beach, beer in hand. The sun is radiant and the waves crash against the shore.

"Do you think dogs can read minds?" JJ says from beside you on your towel.

"How drunk are you?" Pope asks from his beach chair.

"Maybe," you reply laying on your stomach with your head on your arms. "They're so smart."

"Yeah, smarter than me," JJ replies

"You know, you remind me of a Golden Retriever." you say turning back to look at him over your shoulder, "You're like pure lightheartedness."

"Roof, roof." JJ starts barking. You laugh and nudge him with your leg. "Wait, that's like the nicest thing anyone's ever said to me."

"Aww," you say sticking out your bottom lip a bit.

"Y'all are weird." John B says before taking a sip of his beer.

"You're just boring," you reply grinning at him, making him sarcastically roll his eyes.

"Wanna surf?" JJ asks you smiling.

"Who do you think I am." you grin as he grabs your hand to help you up. You take off your shorts and shirt and are met with an ogling boy. "Pick up your jaw blondie," you say, grinning.

"Just enjoying the view." His eyes drink you up and down and a smirk plays on his lips.

"Like what you see?"

"Mhm," he hums in content.

"Come on, dork," you say, putting a hand on his jaw to playfully turn his head to the side. You both jog off towards the crashing waves of the sparkling ocean with your boards. You take turns watching each other surf the waves and while watching him your mind begins to wander.

He surfs the wave effortlessly, his wet hair clings to his face, which is way more attractive than you'd like to admit. And his sparkling blue eyes mirror the hue of the ocean which makes him appear almost godlike. The sight in front of you brings you back to Kie's words. "What about you and blondie?".

Like you had already admitted you and JJ flirted, but you always assumed it was just flirting and nothing else. Now you were beginning to think it was more than that.

Nah no way it's just sexual attraction. I mean sure his smile felt like a beam of sunlight. And his embrace elicited fireworks in your chest. Not to mention every time you make eye contact you could swear your heart stops beating.

It's definitely just sexual.

[falcor-thee-luck-dragon]

Let Chaos Reign

Chapter 3- Don’t Provoke The Bear

Summary: After getting your shit rocked by the Avengers, you now wake up in a strange new place even more pissed off then you already were. Also that one pretty looking dark haired guy won’t leave you alone.

Warning: reader being chaotic, Bucky trying his best

Masterlist - Chapter 2

Eyes still closed you can feel a soft pressure holding you up, slowly parting your eyelids, you’re soon greeted by the sight of bright lights circling you overhead, though they remain unmoving. On further inspection, once you force yourself into a seated position, you take notice that you’re in some kind of flat spherical glass holding cell.

Blinking groggily, you look down to find your clothes are all still on your body, suddenly a pang of fear hits you at the thought of your mothers necklace. Reaching for it, you’re relieved to feel it’s still with you. Thanking whoever will listen for that bit of good fortune in this otherwise adverse predicament.

Shifting your gaze back to the current situation of the room, you’re able to see around to some sort of large cavernous lab area with a multitude of that armored man from earlier, though you can tell there is no vital life that stirs within them. Guards maybe? Decoys? You have no idea.

Suddenly your eyes catch movement from the left door, a dark skinned man in black clothing and a single patch over his left eye appears. “Good morning. I’m Director Fury.” He smiles with a friendly nod, arms clasped behind his back while he walks over to you, “Or should I say afternoon?”

Getting off the elevated bed, you wander towards the thick glass keeping you from him, “Where am I?”

Fury nods, “Better question you should be asking is how long you’ve been out for, cause damn, you can sleep.”

“What the hell does that mean?”

He chuckles knowingly, “I almost couldn’t believe it myself when the team told me. But wow, holding back both Vision and Wanda for as long as you did. I’m thoroughly impressed.” He boasts for you, genuinely fascinated by your daring feat.

Right, those two.

You frown, gaze hard set and intimidating, “Where the fuck am I?”

“Well for one, you’ve been out for a whole 15 hours since they found you unconscious but alive after getting blasted by Vision and Wanda. Weren’t sure if you were gonna make it, seems the universe has yet to take you out.”

Pursing your lips together in irritation, you glare through the glass at him, “Well I’m not exactly from here so....doesn’t matter. Tell me what this place is and where the fuck I am!”

He holds up his hands, “Alright no need to get heated.” Before clasping them behind his back as he begins pacing slowly back and forth in front of you, “You’ve created quit the stir since arriving in Ireland. My intelligence first received a message indicating a storm greater then a category four hurricane, which by our standards is pretty damn massive. Soon a fun little video of you throwing some busses around like rag dolls peaked my interest. And give or take a couple days, here you are.”

Giving him a deadpanned stare, you cross your arms, “The mystery of the century. Where am I?”

“Alright fine I won’t leave you in suspense, you’re in New York State. In a very secure and safe facility home to the Avengers. Nice place huh?” He smiles, dark eyes looking elsewhere as he gives a little once over of the room.

“I’m in a cell.”

“Yes. But it’s a clean cell.”

Suddenly you slam your left fist against the thick glass causing him to flinch, “You have no right to hold me here! Release me. Now.” You growl darkly, golden irises appearing to almost glow with your building vexation.

“Can’t do that.”

“Alright then, if that’s how it’s going to be. Then I’ll do it myself.”

A second later he’s genuinely startled as you cock your arm back before slamming it into the clear thick glass. With the power of bending the material and your people’s strength, the glass cracks into a fist sized area. Satisfied with this, you do it again and again before a voice startles you.

[Miss, please refrain from breaking that. Mr. Stark has requested that you stop immediately.]

“Agreed.” Says Fury as he hustles over to the far wall, bringing his arm up to his mouth, he speaks but you can’t tell what he’s saying. What nonsense is he even doing?

Ignoring both of them, you punch the glass a fourth time before the voice interrupts again. [Miss. Please suspend your advances. Mr. Stark is on his way.]

Halting your fist from punching a fifth time, you take a step back and bring yourself to the center. Positioning yourself in a fighters stance, legs slightly bent, arms held about 90 degrees; you thrust them forward causing the metal contraption to creak and whine in protest.

Holding your arms close to your body now, you make two tight fists before violently punching at the air; the metal holding in the glass slams forcefully against the far wall. Destroying a couple of those stoic armored sentinels in the process.

“What the fuck?!” Yelps Fury in surprise as he falls to the floor from the force of the impact, “Hey! You better stay right the fuck over there!” He warns while cowering in the corner, nothing to really threaten you with but his voice. That is until he pulls out a stunted black gun, like the ones you have seen on the Norwegian police. You ignore his threats anyways.

Taking your first steps out of the desolated cell feels almost euphoric, your body embraces how strong and dangerous you feel among this place and what has presented itself to you within her walls. A man and his words, a disembodied voice telling you to stop fighting your way to freedom. Ridiculous, they have no idea who you are.

You take a single step left when the man, Fury, shouts loudly, “Stay right there!” Your eyes find the gun held tightly within his grasp, “I will shoot!”

You don’t care for this shallow warning, there are things in this universe more important then a mortal mans fearful intimidation. Opening up your palm, the gun flies out of his hands while he gasps with a start, eyes wide and panicked as you turn the short nosed barrel towards him. Closing your fist, the gun combusts to nothing more then destroyed metal and hard plastic as it clatters to the floor.

He watches in disbelief as you then turn to your left before taking the first door that reads exit above it; you wander past a long hallway until you come across a door leading to a long flight of stairs to some floor with a sign reading - Parking Area - the door is obviously closed.

This is too easy, you think suspiciously, somethings not right.

Opening up the door, you’re greeted by a large cavernous glass and metal room holding a large black aircraft on the far end, a couple more vehicles parked in various areas spread about the place. And not a soul in sight.

Hustling along into the room, you’re able to reach the door on the other side, opening it, you cautiously stick your head out. Ahead of you is a large green yard stretching all the way back to a tree line with trees placed neatly along a road leading up to the facilities main entrance area.

To your far left is a large river, but still, you have no idea where New York is. This is all unfamiliar territory to you, so finding the Ancient One is going to be a tough fucking job.

Not seeing anyone, you take your first couple steps into the open. Soon you’ve made it halfway across the grass headed for the tree line before the sound of gravel crunching causes you to pause and turn around to face the intruder.

So close. The woods are right there.

Clenching your fists, you keep a defensive stance as you stare him down, this man is undoubtedly familiar. He’s dressed in boots, jeans, a pair of cloves for some reason, and a faded grey t-shirt that’s mostly covered by his forest green jacket, while his long dark hair is washed and sits handsomely around his face. Blue eyes staring at you apprehensively, “We’re not here to harm you.” Cautiously says the man in a soft tone of voice, hoping not to provoke you again.

“Then why was I just locked in a cell?”

He pauses for a moment, “Uh, okay, yeah that looks bad.”

“Precisely.

You turn to leave, yet his voice makes you stay, “You don’t have to be on your own you know. I don’t know what you’re looking for, or who....but doing it alone will only take longer. We could help you, if you want.” He suggests with the tiniest hint of a smile. You don’t trust him.

You look towards the lake before finding his gaze yet again, your golden eyes admittedly sadder as you softly answer him, “No one can help me.”

He takes a step forward, face softening, “I felt the same way once. Alone and confused, not sure where to go, no one to trust. Believe me, it sucked......so, I’m just hoping you’ll listen. That’s it.”

“Well, I don’t particularly like any of you. And so far you’ve all gotten in my way and fought me....I have no reason to trust a thing you say.”

He purses his lips together and nods, you’ve got him there, but nonetheless he takes another step forward, “Sorry about that.” He mutters while rubbing the back of his neck, “Uh, let me try and start over....I’m Bucky. And I am definitely not here to fight you. Promise.”

Eyeing him up suspiciously, you take a step back, “Y/N Lavpranthus..of Vanaheim.” You finally reveal, albeit with a smidge of apprehension, however you are not one to hold back your own name if someone is to speak freely theirs.

Bucky nods, incredibly grateful for your calm demeanor for the moment and this first bout of information given willingly by you, though he has not a single clue where Vanaheim is, this is progress. Good progress; perhaps the team was right to send him out first as their guinea pig against the big bad wolf.

Stupid in retrospect, but so far it’s appeared an effective strategy instead of Tony’s idea which was to have Vision and Wanda knock you out again. Not an efficient way to make friends who can throw busses around like its nothing but a bag of grapes...and all without even touching them.

Bucky reveals the flash of a smile as you slowly calm your once defensive stance, though you’re still wary of his true intentions, “Y/N.” Repeats Bucky with a genuine grin as he tests out your name on his tongue, “Never heard that one before, it’s beautiful.

Taken aback by his kindness and sincere compliment to your name, you finally let your guard down, “My mother gave that to me, it was her sisters name, though she died before I met her. Guess it doesn’t matter now...” He frowns as you share a dismal look with the ground, remembering the events that brought you here in the first place. 

Family.

Soon your anger rises once more as you think of your brother, that conniving piece of shit, “Bucky....I-I can’t stay here. I have to go, you wouldn’t understand. And I don’t want you to be involved....fuck....he probably already has scouts hunting for me.”

Bucky’s brows furrow in confusion, who would you be talking about he has no idea, “Y/N, no one could hurt you here, alright. This place is pretty damn guarded. I mean, we are the Avengers.”

Shaking your head you take a step backwards, “No, none of you understand how dangerous he is, I’m lucky he didn’t kill me when he had the chance.”

“Who tried to kill you?”

Finding his worried gaze once more, you back closer towards the woods, a knowingly loathsome look crossing your features as you frown, “My brother.” And with that do you make a swift exit into the trees, out of sight in an instant.

Bucky takes a hasty step forward before looking back at the base where all of the Avengers are watching from the windows, they collectively make a go-get-her motion with their hands, indicating that Y/N is now his problem.

Fantastic, he thinks sarcastically, half the team can fly and I’m going after a demigod with family problems.

——

Jumping over fallen trees and ragged roots alike, you’re swifter then a young leopard under the treetops, it’s admittedly incredibly freeing that you almost get lost in the rush of it all as your boots pound against the leafy ground.

Arms pumping you quickly along while you run deeper into the woods, you can’t remember the last time you’ve felt so free, though your fun soon comes to an abrupt halt when something hard latches onto both of your legs, instantly you begin falling towards the quickly approaching earth.

With lightening reflexes, your hands are thrusted outwards while you emit a blast of air that saves you from suffering brain damage or a bruised face. The wind aids your body in stabilizing itself once again; now standing with your lower legs tied collectively by some metal clasp, you quickly clap your hands together before focusing your release.

The metal clamps rip apart from off of your legs, freeing you in an instant, “What the fuck was that about?” You mutter to yourself when what would you know it, there’s Bucky standing not even twenty feet from you, an apologetic look on his annoyingly handsome face.

He raises his gloved hands into the air, “I’m sorry. I didn’t know how else to stop you...”

Shaking your head in disappointment, you take a step in his direction, “Bucky, you’re going to really wish you didn’t just do that.”

“Uh.” Is all he’s able to mutter before you send him flying backwards with the force of a small windstorm, you watch in amusement as he breaks some branches on his way to the ground.

“You really don’t like following orders now do you?” He hears you chuckle, “I like that. You’ve got a brave heart I’ll admit.” He watches as you walk into view, a knowing smirk adorning your beautiful otherworldly features, “Courage, it’s good. Even after what I did to you a couple days ago, you still came to speak with me when no one else dared, it’s valiant. You would be a noble warrior in my homeland.”

Bucky could have blushed if not for the stick poking uncomfortably into his back, “Thanks....you seem like...uh....an experienced...woman.” Mutters Bucky, mentally cringing at how unbelievably stupid that just sounded in comparison with how gloriously divine you are.

You snort, “Easy on the eyes and a skilled fighter. Guess conversation is too adept for even the likes of you.”

Bucky shows you a cheeky grin as he jumps to his feet, “Well....uh...you don’t really know me that well yet.”

You laugh at his weak flirting skills, “Too bad I’ve got elsewhere to be. I bet you’re fine company.”

“Right...right, yeah...” Mumbles Bucky with a nod, not really confident he’s gonna be able to sway you completely to his side, he just needs you to come back with him to the base. That’s it, well, in a calmly manner. “Uh...do you even know where you are?”

You open your mouth to speak but pause as you actually have not a single clue where you really are, brows furrowed you answer, “Upstate New York.” Your accent dripping strong with a tinge of uncertainty that greatly annoys you.

Bucky smiles, “Do you know where that is?”

“Well.....not completely but I’m willing to find out, elsewhere. I don’t need help, believe me.”

Bucky throws his hands up, “I believe you. It’s just....I don’t think you’re gonna find your brother without a little guidance here...”

“Don’t patronize me!” You snap angrily, eyes practically glowing gold as you fill with irritation; he’s trying to distract you from your goal, you don’t need any help from anyone. Your brother would never dare ask for such a thing if he was in your place, he probably would have killed this man in the facility yard without a second thought. “You’re all just prying little bastards, I have no business with any of you when my personal quandary is concerned!”

Clearly noticing he’s struck some kind of nerve, and remembering he’s been tasked with gathering as much information about you as possible while striving for the end goal of a truce. Bucky stupidly pressures you further, “Your brother can’t be that terrible, I mean.....what did he do?” Asks Bucky with a casual shrug, a sudden pang of fear flashing through his eyes as you send him a nasty glare.

You don’t even give him a moment to react before his forest green jacket is ablaze from your quick thrust of flame out of your fist, Bucky instantly yelps in surprise before swiftly throwing the burning fabric off of him before he catches fire himself. The jacket falls to a flaming heap on the forest floor, “What the hell?!” Yells Bucky, eyes wide at your incredibly abrupt act of hostility.

Whoosh!

And Bucky’s flat on his back with you right on top of him, kneeling down to meet his startled gaze, his breath hitches as you forcefully grab his stubbled jaw. Your eyes two golden coins of tempered rage, “You have no idea what he has done to me or my realm, you’re lucky I’m not like him or you’d be a burnt corpse adding to the ash of the universe. Pray you never meet him.” Your lip quivers in angered emotion as you lightly squeeze his jaw, “And if we meet again, I assure you someone will die.”

Bucky keeps still as stone as you finally release him from your admittedly powerful grasp, soon you rise to your full height, giving him one last conflicted look before sauntering off into the bushes.

He lets out a breath he didn’t know he had, chest rising heavily as the adrenaline rush of the fire and you touching him brings him back to reality. He’s on the ground in the woods and you’re absolutely no where to be seen. Soon he jumps to his feet and jogs in your direction until he reaches a gravel road leading back to the Avengers Facility.

You’re gone, just like a phantom in the shadows, gone.

Shaking his head in frustration, Bucky treks back to the base where Steve, Tony, and Natasha are waiting for him outside, all equally curious as to what the hell happened.

“Looks like you were unsuccessful, Barnes.” Quips Tony as Bucky throws him a dirty look.

“She’s...just.....complicated.” Mutters the tired Winter Soldier with a frown as they follow him to the front doors.

——

Bucky slouches comfortably into the back of the lounging rooms giant plush couch, a heating pad seated blissfully against his bruised back from all the times you knocked his ass to the ground today. Sam, Tony, Steve, and Natasha seated in various areas around the lounging room as they give him a break to rest.

Though the peace is soon broken by the sound of Tony’s irritating voice, “You at least get a name to hold against that psycho?”

Bucky throws him an annoyed glance, “She’s not a psycho, and her name is Y/N....I can’t remember her last name. It was something Middle Earth-like I don’t know.”

“Y/N?” Repeats Steve, “That’s different.”

Bucky’s face shifts to concentrated puzzlement, “Yeah, I know....it’s just, she said Y/N of Vanaheim or whatever that means....not sure but she’s definitely not from around here.”

“Really? What drew you to that final conclusion.” Jokes Sam as Bucky mutters an incomprehensible fuck off while the Falcon chuckles.

Natasha’s voice suddenly enters the conversation, “So she’s after her brother?”

Bucky nods, “Yep.”

“And doesn’t appear to know her way around this world either?”

“Yep.”

Natasha hums in thought as Sam speaks, “Damn. I wonder what happened to her before she got dumped into our world...”

Bucky suddenly sits up, “It’s just....she said some people are probably already after her, uh....her brothers guardsman I think?”

Steve takes a step forward, eye brows raised in interest, “Guardsmen?”

Tony nods, “Or are these some type of glorified assassins? I’m just putting this out there, but we really need to get this shit under control before she ends up destroying a building next. Or these, whoever is after her, decide to...oh I don’t know...kill some civilians while they’re at it.”

Bucky’s face shifts to puzzlement, “Dammit. It’s kinda my fault she ran off.” They all give him a varying amount of intrigued expressions as he sighs, “I was just trying to get more info out of her and then I talked about her brother and she set my jacket on fire, before throwing me to the ground and roughly grabbing my face to threaten me, she was really mad too.”

Sam smirks, “Did you enjoy it. Getting manhandled by a pretty lady in the woods?”

“Sam.” Mutters Steve like a disappointed father reprimanding his son.

“Come on Buck, it’s okay, you can tell us. Was it nice?”

Bucky throws him a deadly glare, “Actually it was, I felt very loved and comforted.” He quips, voice dripping in sarcasm before a more thoughtful expression crosses his features, “But she didn’t actually hurt me. I don’t know, she almost looked conflicted to leave....I don’t know it happened so fast.” He mumbles, closing his eyes as he falls back into the comfort of the couch.

“Well as much as I’m enjoying this time together with all of you...” Says Natasha, “We now have a person from an unknown world on the loose with incredible power and the means to use it as she wants. We all know where that can lead us.”

“With more collateral damage then what Ultron gave us.” Adds Tony, “Fortunately this time it won’t be my fault...like that makes a big difference I know. Still, she’s the Avengers newest problem now and we don’t have a damn clue where Miss. Anger Management is.”

“Uh, not exactly.” Starts Bucky as they all turn to look at him. Sam raises an intrigued brow, “What do you mean, not exactly?”

“I, well uh-when she was threatening me, well one of the times she was threatening me...I was able to plant a tracker on the inside of her one pocket. Then she pushed me into the grass and ran off into the woods, I couldn’t keep up even if I tried. She was just gone, but at least I was able to do that. It’s something.”

“Barnes.” Says Tony slowly, “And you’re just telling us this now? When we could have been sending some intelligence or agents or even ourselves out to find her.”

“Sorry but I was recovering from getting beaten up by a beautiful demigod to remember so soon,” Sasses Bucky, “but yeah, that aside, she’s got a tracker on her so all I’d need to do is pull it up on my phone and I’m good to go. Well, as long as she hasn’t found it yet.” 

“If it’s just like that, you’re sharing with the rest of the class.” Says Tony while he wanders over to the television mounted upon the wall, “I’m gonna have you link with the tv, I don’t wanna miss a second.”

With a dramatic sigh does the Winter Soldier lean over to grab the thin metal device from off of the coffee table in front of him while Tony flicks on the large tv screen. Once all is set correctly and synched up, the others watch on in curiosity as he scrolls around a bit before finding the app and clicking on it, a couple passwords are sent in and accepted when the screen then shows one option labeled -Unite_1P - between two white bars within a sea of black.

He taps the label and the screen changes to a view of North America resembling that of google maps, but the screen soon shifts to zoom in on a moving pin point in red that’s traveling a couple miles far northeast of the Bronx, where it appears that Y/N happens to be trekking through some forest heading downwards towards that designated part of New York City.

Steve’s eyes trail over the red pin point, “So that’s where Y/N is going?”

“Seems like it. And she hasn’t a damn clue where she’s actually going either.”

Sam keeps his gaze locked onto the map as well, “And what does she want exactly?”

 “She said something about finding her brother but that’s honestly it, I tried to help her but it was almost pointless. She’s on her own mission now, and no ones going to get in her way.”

Steve sighs, “That’s what I’m afraid of.”

“What?”

“Y/N. Someone getting in her way, someone just trying to lend a hand and she takes it the wrong way and then...”

“I know man, but I don’t think she’d do that to some innocent person. At least I don’t think she would.” Worries Bucky while everyone takes a moment to process and stare at the screen, red pin point still moving slowly towards New York City. The creak of wood is suddenly heard and all five Avengers turn their heads towards the abrupt noise of Director Fury who’s found himself a spot to stand in the large room.

“Unfortunately we don’t know that. And as the worlds mightiest heroes. It’s your collective duty to always assume the worst. She’s strong, has a goal, and appears able to get it if she tries hard enough. It’s admirable, and yes she’s no Loki...but she is a danger to Earth the less we know about her true intentions and the longer she’s out of our reach.” Explains Fury, “Barnes you’ve done incredibly well. But our apparent need for you has increased as well, so I suggest you smack on a band-aid because we’re going to have a nice civil conversation with her whether she wants it or not.”

“Me?”

“Yes you. You’re the only person she hasn’t tried to send a chunk of metal at, you got close, you got the information. We need you to do it again.”

Steve looks to Fury, “I don’t know if that’s a good idea. What if she...”

“I’ll do it.....” They all give Bucky a collective array of questionable facial expressions as he shrugs, “What? I think she’ll listen, maybe, okay I’m not one hundred percent sure if Y/N will hear me out. But I gotta try right? She’s conflicted inside, she’s hurt and alone....if I just have a moment, another moment, I think I could get to her. I think she’ll listen.”

Fury smiles as Steve lowers his gaze, “That’s what I like to hear Mr. Barnes. And don’t none of you worry alright. We’ll be close, at a safer distance of course, but close in case anything goes south. Now the day is still young and we have a demigod to find, I assume you all know what to do.”

Steve looks to the array of assembled heroes, “Suite up..well actually...just Bucky.”

The designated man of the hour rolls his eyes, “Yeah, yeah, I’m going.”

-

Tagged: @buckylokisimp @diegos-butt @minigranger @bibliophilewednesday @holyhumorliteraturelight @lilacs-lavender  @a-girl-who-loves-disney @bizarrebibitch @starkssnarks @vikingqueen28 @jmstz @thehornytitties @staygoldsquatchling02 @cleverzonkwombatsludge @mischiefmanaged71​ @noragracebrewer   @atomicpersonacheesecake  @thescarlettvvitch @shawnartmendes​

[carnationcreation]

Hey there, I love you and your work so so much!!

I was wondering if you could write a Mighty Ducks imagine, about your favorite duck-i just low key wanna know who your favorite is- that is set in the second movie where the reader is new to the team and it kinda starts off as them not liking each other to them kissing? If you need any more ideas I’d be happy to help!!

 TITLE: Pride (Adam Banks x reader)

✌🏻Masterlist Taglist, Requests, and Works in progress!

Request: Hey there, I love you and your work so so much!!I was wondering if you could write a Mighty Ducks imagine, about your favorite duck-i just low key wanna know who your favorite is- that is set in the second movie where the reader is new to the team and it kinda starts off as them not liking each other to them kissing? If you need any more ideas I’d be happy to help!!

Prompt/summary:  Adam finally has to admit to his pride after he’s injured.

Word Count: 1,298

Authors note: Set in D2! Also I had such a hard time picking cause I love Charlie, Adam, and Luis but I decided to go with my first boy crush from the films! For the vibes listen to Take Yours by Matthew Mole it’s so cute!

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

My laces were tied so tight I could feel the pressure right on top of my foot as I charged Julie in the goal, she barely caught the puck from my slapshot to the top right corner.

“Ugh, almost had it,” I groaned.

“Maybe one day (Y/l/n),” Julie said. I couldn’t see her face because of the goalie mask but I’m sure she had a shit-eating grin on.

I never thought I would make it here, representing my state for the US youth hockey team for the Junior Olympics. The day I got the call I almost passed out from the excitement and anxiety, and today I almost puked getting out of bed as I thought about how I needed to be on my best game if I wanted to make a good impression on the team I would be joining. 

I saw the whole team walk in, the green jersey was almost a threat. Something I could join but never truly be a part of. I felt that anxiety build up again when I saw they were watching me as I skated down the ice.

Tibbles began to introduce each of us giving us a chance to show off our best skill.

Julie went first, her speed and accuracy in goal made her a vital member to the team. If we were going to stand a chance against Iceland then we needed her.

“And that’s (Y/n) (Y/l/n), everyone calls her Sharpshooter though.”

“Why’s that?” Bombay asked.

“Just watch,” Tibbles nodded, “She’s the only person that’s been able to score on Gaffney.”

My heart raced as I skated quickly up to the goal, aiming on Julie’s stick side, right in the corner I knew she was weakest on.

“Cheap shot (Y/l/n)!” she yelled causing me to laugh as I threw my arms up in victory.

Tibbles waved me over.

“So what makes you so important?” Bombay asked me, “We have about 3 sharpshooters on my team. Why do we need you?”

I stood there in shock, not able to respond as I racked my brain for an answer, “I- well have any of your boys managed to score on Gaffney yet?”

“No, but they will be able to.”

“After how long? I’ve known Gaffney for maybe 30 minutes and I’m already scoring. From what I can tell your boys rely mostly on strength, put anyone up against me and I can show you how accurate I am.”

Bombay smirked, “I like this kid.”

I couldn’t help but smile as Tibbles let me skate back over to Gaffney.

“Look at the boys,” she smirked.

I gave her a confused look.

“Attractive, presumably single hockey players? Might be able to get ourselves a date.”

“Oh shut up,” I shoved her shoulder, “We should be thinking about Hockey, not getting some stupid guys to go out with us. Besides, dating a teammate would just be... weird.”

Julie rolled her eyes, “Oh whatever.”

I laughed and gave the team one final look. My eyes fell on two boys standing near the edge of the group, I assumed one, if not both, was the captain.

“Who’re those boys? Near the edge?”

Julie smirked, “Conway and Banks. The two star players.”

“Oh.”

“Who do you think is cuter?” 

I swallowed hard, “Honestly hard to tell. They both give off different vibes.”

“I thought you said dating a teammate would be ‘weird’“ Julie laughed.

“Listen,” I smiled, “I can look at the menu, I just won’t order.”

Julie let out a cackle and skated away.

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

The tension between the groups finally bubbled over and I was swept in by someone insulting Julie.

“She’s a lot better than you bus boy!” I yelled in the other goalies face.

“I’d block any of your shots any day (Y/l/n)!” he said.

“Wanna test that theory?” I said, apparently I had this fiery look in my eyes cause when Julie pulled me back I saw how terrified the goalie looked causing me to laugh.

Banks skated over, “You really think you’re hot shit huh?”

“Oh please,” I scoffed, “I know I’m hot shit. How many state titles have you one pretty boy?”

I mentally slapped myself. Pretty boy? Really? Best you could come up with?

Adam smirked, “I’d take you on anytime princess.”

“Bring it on.”

Eventually Bombay broke us all apart.

“Now we didn’t come here to fight! We came to play Hockey. We’re team USA. You represent your country!”

Julie and I giggled at the looks on the players faces. 

Adam turned to me, “SHH!”

I rolled my eyes in return.

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

After the first practice we all seemed to get along better. The girls all went out shopping together on the weekends leading to us getting close quick. Adam and I had a competition going of who could make the best trick shot, which Julie kept saying was ‘tension’. 

We finally made it to our game against Germany. The summer had seemed to go by in an instant and I knew after the championship I would have to be bussed right back home to Boringtown USA. 

I walked into the locker room after workouts, I stayed afterwards to work on my shot more. I turned the corner and saw Adam wrapping his wrist up, he winced.

“Adam?”

He jumped and looked up, “It’s not- (Y/n) don’t you dare tell coach.”

“What’d you do?”

Adam sighed, “In the last game, the dude that hooked my wrist with his stick. It’s just a little sore I promise-”

“Adam,” I said gently grabbing hist wrist to examine it, “You might’ve sprained it. If you keep playing on it it could get worse, you might not be able to play anymore.”

“It’s fine. I’ll get it checked out after the seasons over with.”

“That’s self destructive. You can’t set aside your pride for a minute just to get it looked at?” I knew to get him to see how ridiculous he was being I’d have to rile him up a little.

He scoffed, “I’m prideful? Have you even looked at yourself sharpshooter? You think you’re better than everyone and-”

“Adam this isn’t about me, or even you. It’s about the team. And if you have to get benched for longer than necessary just because you ignored an injury than that’s gonna be the whole teams problem.”

Adam sighed, “Fine. But I better not hear a word from you about it.”

“And on the topic of me being better than everyone, I’ve never thought that. I just didn’t feel like I fit in.”

“What are you talking about?” he said, “You fit in fine. You’re just constantly pushing yourself to where everyone feels like you’re full of it. A lot of people are jealous.”

“Jealous?” I cocked my head to the side.

“Yeah.”

I looked at him confused, “Of what?”

“Just- you’re constantly finding things to improve. You’re just the person who doesn’t realize just how good you are sometimes. To the point where it’s almost annoying. Yeah it’s like you think you’re better but at the same time you’re never the best. And it’s infuriating when all I can think about in practice is impressing you-”

“Impressing me?” I smile.

“I- uh. Yes. Impressing you.”

“Adam,” I chuckle, “Everyone on this team thinks you’re amazing. Myself included.”

“Amazing?”

“Yeah,” I chuckle. 

He stands up and walks over to stand in front of me, I look up into those bright blue eyes I could never seem to avoid. I gently grab his wrist, “Let’s go get this checked out by the trainer okay?”

“Okay,” he says as I started to lead him down the hallway, “And (Y/n)?”

I turned back to him.

He quickly leaned forward to press a quick kiss on my lips, “I think you’re pretty amazing too.”

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

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[winter-fox-queen]

Kisses Like Wine: Part 3

In honor of the new photo, I think I will post this now. :)

Warnings:  Nothing, the reader remains a blank canvass.  Might have cursing.

Summary:  The reader is working undercover where she things the next heist will be, while trying to figure out the Thief's ways…

Note:  There really are diamonds in all these colors!  I spent way too much time looking it up.

“Joe F. Gambrel and Co., how may I direct your call?”  I shifted in my seat a little.  The chair was not that uncomfortable, but I felt like I was definitely out of my comfort zone.  I listened to the person on the other side, put them on hold.  Started an email to my boss.  Took them off hold.  “I am so sorry.  Mr. Larsen is in a meeting, may I take a message?”  I typed the message in the email, hung up, hit send.

This was the shape of my day.  Take messages for my reprobate boss, who was never in the office, and try to look like someone else.  Act like someone else.

And, most of all, case the joint.  I wondered, briefly, if the Thief ever called his work that…casing the joint.  Probably not.  He did not look like someone who used twenties gangster slang.

As I wandered the office suite, I hoped I was not wasting my time.  I was working for a high end antiquities firm.  If you wanted something, they got it for you.  They did not have a lot of staff, and the bosses seemed to be out of the office more than not.  The floors directly below me were home to a large business dedicated to restoration.

I’d been studying, and I was ninety nine percent sure that this was the next place the Thief would break into.  The crown was — just a crown.  Pretty, historied. I suspect he took it because he could, not because he wanted it.  After all, it had been right there.

No.  He had come for the Star.  Almost a half a year prior, someone had stolen The Golden Queen.  And now, if I had guessed right, he would be coming for a incredibly rare, beautiful pink diamond called The Compass Rose.

I went and looked at it, not for the first time. At the top floor of the high rise, the company — and Keith Larsen — kept the Compass Rose on display in an act of hubris that was sure, if Greek Myth was any indication, to anger some God eventually.  It was in a huge room, the ceiling was all glass that arched up to a sharp point that was illuminated at night.  The floor was marble, the walls a warm sandstone.  Four benches, one on each side of the pillar that held the diamond’s display case.  One wall held a fountain and greenery, meant to look like a small, exotic waterfall.  The water trickled softly as I went as close to the case as I dared.  And there.  The largest pink diamond that had ever been discovered in Australia, glittering deep rose.  It was one of a kind.

My thief was collecting a full set.  There were three diamonds, including this one, in Midas’s Rainbow that the thief had not stolen.

He could have gone after one of the other ones.  I could be wrong.

But I wasn’t.  I couldn’t be. I had bribed my way in, under a new name with a perfectly wrought set of identification papers, even a credit card.  I dyed my hair and carefully applied my make up so that I made my face a little different.  So if I ran into him, he wouldn’t immediately know it was me.  It was not, probably the best plan, but my training consisted of books and watching Leverage.

I was staring at it too long, the security guard peeked in.

“Miss?”  The security guard peeked in.  Older man, with warm, friendly eyes and a lovely voice that seemed not to match his age.  We’d spoken a few times on my daily check of the diamond.  No one was allowed to be in the room too long, and he was gently reminding me it was time to go.

I went out the door, leaned against the wall next to him, and asked the question that I’d been asking myself for weeks, since I started working here.  “If you were going to steal the Compass Rose, how would you go about it?”

He stared at me for so long I thought he was going to go report me.  “That’s not a smart question to be asking, around here.”

“There’s no harm, though.”  I said.  His voice bothered me.  I wanted more, if I could listen to it a little longer…

He shook his head and didn’t speak.

“I’m sorry if I offended.”

He gave me a gentle smile, touched his ear and pointed to a corner of the room.  Then he shooed me towards the door.

Back at my desk I snuck out my steno notebook from its hiding place in a stack of unused notebooks in my desk drawer.  It was where I kept my plans.  Layout of the building.  Everything I learned.  Since my purse could get searched at any time, I only had it at work.  One steno pad looks like all the others, right?  Locked in my drawer, under a box of tampons.

The fountain has to be the way in. There needs to be a way to service the pipes behind the wall.

If I could break something in the fountain without getting caught, someone would have to fix it.  Someone would have to open the door or the hatch, and I’d know how to get in.

And the thief always liked distractions. But what kind of distraction would he manage to create?

My work day ended, I grabbed my purse, made sure my desk was locked, and started out.

“Honey?”  The first front desk receptionist called after me.

I smiled and crossed over.

“I just wanted to remind you, tomorrow they are bussing in a bunch of high school students to tour the floors so they can see what it takes to restore old art.”  She smiled at me.  “You’ll want to make sure to get here early before they get here…it’s going to be a madhouse.”

Cue distraction.

The next day I went to see the madhouse for myself.  I wanted to see the teachers.  Most were women.  I didn’t discount them completely, but I had a feeling he wouldn’t shave his mustache if he could avoid it.  There.  Curly, dark hair.  Tweed jacket with elbow patches.  What century did he think this was?  I followed him as he ushered bored looking kids, careful not to let me see his face.  Finally I went around a dented suit of armor and managed to get face to face with him.  “Hey!”  I said cheerfully.

It wasn’t him. Eyes too far apart, nose too small, just not him.

I apologized and walked off just as one of the teachers asked, brightly, “Can we see the Compass Rose?”

“Well.  There’s no reason why not.  The public are allowed to go in, but only one at a time, I think?” The woman who had gotten stuck showing the group around said.  I hid as quickly as I could, not wanting to be pulled into the conversation.

I walked back to my office, hoping no one had noticed I’d slipped out, to be sadly disappointed.  My boss was sitting on the corner of my desk.

“Where were you?”  He asked me.

“Just wanted to see what all the noise was about.”  Behind him, the lady security guard who switched on and off with the one I usually saw stood, looking that part angry, part unamused way only a security guard could.

“Open your desk.”

“What is this about?”

“The Compass Rose.  It’s gone.  I want to know if you have it.  You spent enough time looking for it…made jokes about stealing it.  So.  Did you?”

I unlocked the desk and the guard pushed me aside, dumping the contents on my desk.  I held my breath when she flipped through the notebooks, but they all were empty.

Empty.  Oh, no.

I let her paw through everything I owned.  Let her pat me down.  “Unless she swallowed it, sir, I don’t think she has it.”

“I didn’t swallow it!”  I let panic creep into my voice.  It was not hard.

I let them x-ray me.  I did.  I admit it.  The lab tech a few floors down gave me sympathetic looks as I stood there, shivering, in my gown.

And then I let them fire me.  The frustrating thing was the lack of knowledge.  They refused to let me know anything.  What happened?  How?  Why?  Was a playing card left behind?  I wanted to know.

But most of all I wanted to know where my notebook was.

Two days later as I packed up my apartment, I received a package.  My name…my alias, rather, in quotes.  Quotes.  I grabbed a letter opener and ripped it open with more force than I needed.  I suspected, already, who would be cheeky enough to put quotation marks around my fake name.

My notebook.

The last page, there was a five of diamonds tucked in like a book mark. The back of the card the same as the one I carried with me wherever I went.

Across the last page he’d written, “A five star card for a five star effort.  Not bad for your first try.  I wish I’d thought of the fountain.  That was clever, if a bit damp.”  A couple of crabbed notes along side my own.  Suggestions.  Not actual plans.  No, I’d need to catch him to find out how he did his theft, if he could be convinced to tell me even then.

I sat down, hard.  He knew where I was.  Where I lived.  Knew I had a steno notebook, knew I’d hide it because I could have my belongings searched.  How?  How did he learn so much about me?  I thought over the people I had met, since getting that job.

I imagined large hands carefully drawing things out of my purse, lining them up neatly on the marble of the entry way desk.  “Sorry about this, miss.”  The guard’s voice said, as he went through my things.  Large, but graceful hands.  A warm voice that bothered me because I’d heard it before.  The security guard.  He’d been guarding the damned diamond all along.

“Five star effort? Oh, I’ll show you.  I’ll show you.”

I worried about telling my family of my failure, then I realized.  He’d given me a clue.  The cheeky bastard had given me a clue.  Because one of the other diamonds was kept in a five star hotel overlooking the Rhine.

He was telling me that he was going to steal the Heart of the Rhine, a mossy green diamond worth millions.  Now, if only I could believe him.

Thank you to you lovely people for being on my tag list, if you want added or dropped just let me know.  <3

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[flightsoffandom]

Peer Pressure

Pairs: Aaron Hotchner x Reader (Future SugarDaddy!Hotch x SugarBaby!Reader)

Words: 6998

Summary: After a casual comment to your friends, an interesting opportunity falls into your lap. Curious to see where this opportunity leads, you go along with it. This odd string of events has a very intriguing outcome.

Warnings: None really, Peer pressure I guess (I mean it is the title of this chapter)

Notes: Left completely gender-neutral. Please feel free to send me any questions, comments, or suggestions about this fanfic because I’m kinda in new territory, so any feedback would be helpful and appreciated. <3 I found a gender-neutral term for Parent, so instead of using ‘Sugar Mommy’ or ‘Sugar Daddy' at one point, a character used the term ‘Sugar Renny’ (‘Renny’ is shorthand for ‘Rents’ which in turn is short for ‘Parents’). I will probably reuse the term in other fics because, honestly, I think it’s a hella cute term for a parent. Please know that I don’t support using some of the behavior displayed in this fanfic in real life. That being said, this is indeed FanFiction, and some of it was added for comic effect or whatever else. Don’t peer pressure your friends into doing something they don't need and/or want to do. You don't need to date someone ever or date consistently in order to be a fulfilled person <3

Beginning of Unconventional – Peer Pressure* – Second Date

Rossi sat utterly relaxed in the chair across from Hotch’s desk, “When is the last time you went on a date?” Rossi had been relentlessly questioning Hotch about his love life for the last fifteen to twenty minutes. Hotch groaned, “Is this really a good use of our time, Dave?” Rossi gave a very dramatic nod, “Yes. It is.” Hotch had been staring at the same paper, unable to get any work done, “I don’t have the time.” Rossi gave Hotch an unamused look. Prompting Hotch to add, “Finding someone who has a schedule that lines up with mine would be damn near impossible.” Rossi got a mischievous look on his face. A look that always meant he was up to something. Rossi smiled, “There are certain…” Rossi moves his hands as he speaks, “arrangements. People who are willing to spend time with you at the drop of a hat.” Aaron narrowed his eyes, watching Dave closely, “You’re not seriously suggesting a prostitute, are you?” Rossi laughs, “You are not that much of a lost cause… yet.” Rossi pulls out his phone and starts messaging someone. Aaron was more suspicious than curious, “Then what were you suggesting?” Rossi looks back up from his phone, “Something more in the sugar baby range of companionship.” Hotch’s eyes went wide, completely taken aback, “What?” Hotch pauses, thinking this was a joke. Rossi’s face, however, showed that he was serious about his suggestion.

   Hotch starts to protest, “How is tha-” Rossi interrupts him with the wave of his hand, “Now before you start throwing the rulebook around and get all dramatic about it. It’s not always money, Aaron.” Hotch scoffs. Rossi rolls his eyes, “So closed-minded. It can be gifts, opportunities, or connections.” Rossi looks at his phone again, “That’s something you will have to work out with them.” Hotch couldn’t believe what Ross was saying. Then Hotch realized how Rossi phased that last sentence, “Did you already set me up with someone?” Rossi nods, smirking, “I did. From what I have heard about them, you two would be a good match.” Hotch exhaustedly places his hand over his face, “You haven’t even met them yourself?” Rossi stands up, “I heard it from a reliable source.” Rossi grins at Hotch, “If it makes you feel better, I will be vetting them before I set up your official date.” Hotch wanted to protest to fight this, and Rossi could see that. So Rossi intervenes before anything could be said, “And don’t try to weasel out of it. I can make your life a living hell, and you know I will.” It was a half-hearted threat, one made between friends. That didn’t make the statement any less true, though. If Hotch didn’t agree to this now, he knew Rossi would find a way to trick him into it later. Maybe even getting the rest of the BAU involved. That sounded like a much bigger headache than just agreeing to it now. Hotch reasoned that he could always go to this date, meeting, whatever it was called, and then just never do a follow-up. So begrudgingly, Hotch pinched the bridge of his nose as he spoke, “Fine.” Rossi had an all too triumphant look on his face as he walked out of Hotch’s office.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

It hadn't been a good week for you. Between getting the news that the scholarship you had been relying on for college was ending, you had no financial backup plan. You had a decent job at a local restaurant, but one of the owner’s kids took over and cut the servers pay. It was that time of year for your apartment to increase rent prices. You have been looking for other jobs but didn’t have any luck. It just seemed to be one thing after another. All of these things weighed on your mind, stressing you out. Before all of that stress happened, you had agreed to go out with your friends tonight. And Oliva wasn't planning on letting weasel out of this so you could anxiously worry about things in your apartment all by yourself.

You wanted to be studying, or filling out applications, or anything but be at this bar right now. Oliva and Mason, two of your close friends, had different plans. The music was so loud you had to yell over it just to talk to anyone. It was so crowded that you felt claustrophobic. And to top it off, the three of you had been looking for a free place to sit for easily an hour. It was exhausting. Oliva tugged on one of your arms, “[Y/N] come on have some funnnnnnnn…” Mason pulled on your other arm, “You promised you would be fun tonight.” You sighed and rolled your eyes, “I agreed to this before I found out I will either have to drop out of school or pick up two more jobs.” Your two friends groaned. The pair finally finds a table, and the three of you jump on it before someone else takes it. Oliva spoke up first, giggling, “You know you could always get a job working with us.” Mason grins, “Being a sugar baby has a lot of perks. I haven’t had to worry about bills in like five years.” You roll your eyes, “I’m glad you guys are happy being sugar babies, but I really don’t think it's the right thing for me.” With the news your scholarship was ending, you had started seriously wondering if your friends were right, though. It seemed like a magic fix to all your problems. You sighed, “But maybe… let me see if I can figure something out, first.” Oliva and Mason were both busying texting away on their phones. Mason shook his head, “You can’t wait that long. It’s like a normal relationship. You gotta feel it out and see if it will work and then mutually agree to the arrangement details.” You dramatically let fold your arms onto the table before letting your head fall on top of your arms.

Oliva pats your back, “It’s alright. I got one lined up for you already.” You shoot back up, “What? I haven’t even officially agreed to it yet.” Oliva grins devilishly at you, “You said ‘officially,’ which means you have agreed. You just haven’t admitted it to yourself or said it out loud.” Mason flags down someone bussing drinks and orders you all a round. Oliva was right. You had basically mentally agreed to it already. You were nervous, though. This was not typically how you did things. You take a drink, “I don’t like being so dependent on someone.” These weren’t objections. They were more just worries you had. Mason laughs, “I mean in a way sure. But doesn’t marriage do the same thing? Married people become legally bound together by all sorts of documents from the marriage itself to houses, cars, or bank accounts.” Mason knocks his drink back and then shrugs, “I’ve never become legally bound to any Sugar Renny’s I’ve had.” He was making sense. You nod along as you drink, “Okay then… I honestly don’t see how it could make things worse.” Olive laughs, “Cheers to that. Now let’s have some fun.” You all gently clink your glasses together before going back to drinking.

After a few hours, Oliva jumps up, “You have to come with me now. We are gonna go meet someone.” You sit there startled, and Mason shoos you both, having his own plans for the night. You stare at Oliva, “How is this happening right now?” Oliva rolls her eyes like you're supposed to know, “Cause he is famous and a very busy man. He calls the shots.” She grabs your arm and starts tugging you through the crowds of people. You stumble behind her. Once you get out the door, you start asking questions, “Who even is he? Where are we meeting him?” Oliva looks around and pulls you towards a car that you’re assuming is an Uber, “So many questions can’t you just be spontaneous and trust me.” Oliva makes you get in the back of the car first, so you didn’t have a chance to run away. You glare at her as she slides in next to you, “I trust you just fine. It's the stranger I don’t trust. What if he is a serial killer or something?” Oliva starts chuckling, which quickly turns to full-out laughter like she knew something you didn’t. You narrow your eyes at her, “You are the worst.” Oliva confirms that the driver knows where to go. The place she stated was pretty upscale. Now you were nervous. You hadn’t dressed for a nicer venue, only wearing clothes for a casual night out. Oliva turns to you, “You might think I’m the worst, but clearly someone needs to intervene. When is the last time you went on a date?” You anxiously breathe in through your teeth, “There was…” Olive interrupts you knowing exactly who you were going to say, “That was YEARS ago. It’s been too long.” You sigh and try to relax, knowing arguing isn’t going to get you anywhere with Oliva.

The drive took some time, and you were getting more nervous, the closer you got to your destination. To try to calm yourself, you switch between messing with your hands and scrolling through your phone. When the vehicle finally stops, it startles you. Oliva gets out first. You closely follow behind her. At this point, you knew trying to sneak away was pointless. Plus, part of you was extremely curious about who this guy was and how this whole sugar baby thing would pan out. You could already see that this place was a higher class then you were used to. Oliva let go of your wrist when she deemed you trustworthy enough to just follow her on your own. You stayed close, feeling absolutely out of place. When the door opens, the smell of cigars and smoke rolls out. Luckily it wasn’t overwhelming, but it was definitely noticeable. Oliva worked her way through the crowd with ease as you trail behind her. Oliva weaves her way through like she has been here before, and she probably has. When she stops, you almost run into her. Oliva motions to a gentleman enjoying a cigar and a glass of what you assumed was alcohol.

The man was quite a bit older than you thought he would be. Not that Oliva had given you any sort of information to go off of. He had grey coming into both his hairline and facial hair. The man was dressed more casually than the posh masses that filled the rest of the building. Oliva said he was famous and you recognized him from something, but you weren’t sure what. He had a suave look about him, and he wasn’t bad looking, just not your type. Oliva walked up to the gentleman, “Davie!” She gave him a big hug, and the man hugged her back. Oliva pulled back, “Steve and I really had fun at the party last week.” This was one of those moments where Oliva got carried away. She was catching up with the nicely dressed gentleman, and you were wondering if you were actually supposed to be here for this. The man clears his throat to get Oliva to slow down, drawing your attention. The man finished his drink, looking overall, somewhat amused, “This is the friend you were telling me about?” He motions to you. Oliva nods, “Mhm, [Y/N]. They are new to all this stuff. I think they will be perfect for what you need.” You glared at Oliva as she talked about you like you weren’t there. Oliva doesn’t even seem to notice, “Which I think I will leave you two to discuss the details.” Your mouth drops open, “Liv!” Oliva turns to look at you, “What? You need to be more spontaneous. So I’m just going to throw you into the deep end of this. Love you, though.” She gives you a loving, albeit annoying pinch on the cheek. You grumble. Before you can stop her, Oliva bolts, quickly disappearing into a group of people.

You let out a long groan before remembering that the famous man was still standing near you. You turn to look at him, worriedly pressing your eyebrows together, “She is a bit of a mess.” Letting out a nervous chuckle as you finish your statement. The man laughs, “Since she skipped over proper introductions. I’m David Rossi.” As soon as he said his name, it clicked. You had seen some of his books. You think you might have even bought a few but just never got around to reading them. You still weren’t entirely sure what was going on, but you offered an apprehensive smile, “I’m [Y/N], but Oliva at least remembered that part.” David motions to the table for you to sit down. He seemed friendly, but between him being famous and Oliva completely underselling the whole ‘throwing you into the deep end’ thing, you were antsy and unsure of what was going on. David seems to catch onto this quickly, “You can relax, I’m not the person you’re being set up with. But I’m assuming Oliva didn’t mention that.” You do relax a bit, sighing as you nod, “She did fail to mention that and pretty much everything else about what is going on.” A waiter stops by handing David a new glass. David takes a drink, “I am here to make sure you're a good fit for a friend of mine.” You nod slowly, “What do you want to know?” David pulls out a small note pad, skimming it as he talks, “You're a senior in college. You have a job, but you're still having a money problem.” There wasn't a question in that it was all statements. David looks back up at you for a moment. You try to get a closer look at that note pad, “Did you take notes about me? How much did Oliva tell you?” David laughs, “I’m an author. What did you expect? I do my research.” You didn't know where to be disturbed or flattered that a celebrity was this involved in your love life. You didn’t get a chance to think about it too much. David spoke again, “Essentially, I know everything about you. Mostly just fact-checking. I wanted to gauge your personality in person.” You sigh and let your face fall into the palm of your hand, feeling slightly overwhelmed at the moment. Surprisingly David lets you take a minute to collect yourself, only starting his questions when you raise your head back up. David looks back over his notes, “You've never been involved in this sort of arrangement before?” You shake your head. He asks a few other questions, clearly trying to evaluate you the whole time. It wasn't too bad, but you get anxious that maybe you were giving the wrong answers. The stress was getting to you a little bit, and David could tell. He quickly asked the questions, giving you just enough time to respond before asking the next one. Finally, he asks his last questions, “Do you plan on making arrangements with multiple people?” Startled by the question, you respond with the first thing that comes to mind, “Ohh god, no. I’m fucking nervous enough about one person.” This was the first candid response that fell out of your mouth. Your eyes went wide when you realized that you said that much louder than you meant too. You try to collect yourself to give a more collected response, but David just starts laughing before you get a chance. David gives a pleased nod as he starts writing something down on a card, “I like you.”

David looked at you, “Now it's time for me to leave but, I think you’re a good fit. Here is the location, date, and time you will be meeting him.” David hands you a card. You choke out of surprise, “What? I don't get to see a picture of him or anything? No further details?” You cautiously take the card. David shrugs and laughs, “His name is Aaron, and that’s all I am giving you. Think of it as a game.” David tussles your hair, “Good luck, kiddo.” You try to stop him, but he is already gone. You were left sitting in the middle of the restaurant, just having spoken to a decently famous man who set you up to be his friend’s potential sugar baby. You had no idea how your life went from 0-100 this quickly. You were in shock. With everything you had been worrying about in your life, it was actually kind of nice worrying about something less serious like this whole Sugar Daddy situation for a change. Maybe you should treat this as a game of sorts like David said and just have some fun. What’s the worst that could happen. David Rossi, a famous author who caught criminals for a living, wouldn’t set you up with a dangerous person. Also, David thought you were good enough for his friend, so that felt like a compliment. You took a deep breath deciding to just go with the flow for a change. Looking down at the card David gave you. The date was scheduled for a week from now. Which gave you some time to figure out how you would go about this. You got on your phone and ordered an Uber to take you home.

You were nervous. It had been a long time since you went on a date. You had never gone anywhere as fancy as the restaurant you were meeting Aaron at, and you damn well couldn’t afford it. Part of you was glad you had a week to figure out what to wear. The other part of you didn’t like having a whole week to overthink everything. However, your life didn’t give you much of a chance to sit around and worry about your upcoming date. Your week was filled with you applying for any and every scholarship application you qualified for. Then there was work, which wasn’t paying anywhere near what they should have been. You applied to at least twenty places. They didn’t seem like they would pan out. You did have a few classes, but you had slowed down a bit on your course load while waiting to figure out what you would do financially. You couldn’t help but think your slight indecisiveness on picking a specific major was a small blessing because it helped keep costs down for the time being. The week just seemed like the perfect example of why having a Sugar Daddy would make your life so much easier.

The day of the date had arrived. You wanted to be there early, considering you would have to play a game of ‘Where’s Waldo’. Getting dressed in an outfit that you deemed nice enough to wear on this date. You stood in the mirror and readjusted your clothes over a dozen times. You patted your cheeks to try to help calm your nerves as you stared at your reflection. You took a deep breath and then finally left your apartment. You were about half an hour early. It seemed like a bit much, but you want to scope the place out before your date arrives. Also, hoping the extra time would help you chill out a bit. You walk into the restaurant already feeling your nerves going crazy. Stepping over to the side, wringing your hands as you looked around. The restaurant just seemed to have the typical groups of society's elite. Everything was bright and shiny. It made you not want to touch anything. There was expensive, breakable artwork scattered about, which made you want to stand still out of fear of breaking something. It wasn’t overly crowded, at least, so that was a small comfort. Your first scan of the room you didn’t notice anything that drew your attention. But you were also nervous enough that you were getting distracted by the wait staff scurrying about. So after you calmed down a bit more, you took a second scan of the room. It was just the same groups you noticed before until your eyes landed on a table off to the side with one lone man sitting there.

You didn’t know how you missed this table the first time you looked. The man seemed a bit older than you. He had dark hair and was dressed up, but not as much as the other people that littered the room. Even from a distance, you could seem that his brows were tightly knit together. Despite the scowl carved onto his face, he still looked very handsome. He looked like he didn’t want to be here. Something inside you told you he was the man you were here to meet. You willed your feet to move, trying to ignore the anxiety still building inside you. You walked over to the table. He had been handsome from a distance, but the closer you got, the more you realized just how attractive you found him. You also started to see how stiff he was sitting. He looked so serious. He intimidated you. You weren’t sure if you actually had the courage to talk to him. You had been staring for a while, and he was bound to notice any minute. Right as you were about to turn tail and run, that was the moment he decided to look in your direction. You froze in place, probably looking just like a deer in headlights. His eyes narrowed, and he started glaring at you. You swallowed hard and tried to speak, “H...Hello.” You sounded timider then you wanted to. Trying to steady your voice, you cleared your throat before you continued speaking, “Are you Aaron?” He studied your face, “Yes.” Once he finished analyzing you, his face softened slightly, “You must be, [Y/N] then” Aaron automatically stood up and reached out to shake your hand. You offered a smile before reaching out and returning the gesture. Your mind temporarily goes blank when you feel his calloused hand in yours. When the handshake was finished, you both sat down at the table. You train of thought slowly coming back to you.

You pulled nervously at your collar, trying to figure out how to proceed. Aaron was still stiff. The glare on his face hadn't gone away. It was utterly silent, and the tension at the table kept growing. It was so bad that when the waiter brought you both a glass of water, they didn't linger at the table to ask anything. In order to do something, you pick the menu up off the table, looking it over. As soon as you see the prices, however, your eyes go wide. You had a rule of thumb whenever you went on any date that you didn’t order anything you couldn’t pay for. Everything on this menu was completely out of your price range. You put the menu back down. Aaron takes notice and raises his eyebrow inquisitively. You gave a nervous chuckle, “I’m actually not that hungry.” You don't know why you felt the need to lie, but none the less you did. He narrowed his eyes at you, studying you again. You felt like he was trying to read you constantly. You couldn’t tell if it was because he didn’t like you or was suspicious, or maybe he still didn’t want to be here. Aaron pushed his menu to the side. His features softening as he has an almost apologetic look on his face, “I didn’t pick the place. Rossi did.” You let out a slight sigh of relief, “Good. I didn’t want to sound like an asshole and bring up that this place is a bit… much. I’m sure it’s nice, of course. Just not really my thing.” You chuckle nervously. For a split second, a ghost of a smile shows on Aaron’s face, “It’s not my kind of place either.” The tension and atmosphere made this feel like a business meeting, and you didn’t like it. The feeling bothered you so much that it prompted you to speak up, “Would you hate it if we went somewhere else then? This just feels so formal.” Aaron nods, “Where do you have in mind?” You can’t help but laugh as you get up from the table, “I have no idea. Some fresh air should help me start thinking straight.” You wait for him to stand up. You start walking away from the table, but suddenly you stop. This place was stressing you out more than you thought because you almost forgot. You dig into your pocket and pull out your wallet. It was a bit emptier than you would like, but that didn't stop you from pulling some money out of your wallet and leaving it on the table. Aaron watches you. You could tell what he was about to ask, or at least what he was wondering. So you answer before he has a chance to say anything, “I know we didn’t really order anything, but they still waited on us. They’ll have to clean the table and stuff as well. Plus, this place might be fancy, but wait staff usually don't get paid well.” You offer a smile before turning around and heading out of the restaurant.

As soon as you get outside, you can already feel yourself relaxing even more. As you take a deep breath of fresh air, you fully realize how much anxiety was fogging up your thoughts. You turn to Aaron and watch him walk out of the building. He still looks so rigid and uptight. This had scared you before, but now after watching him for a while, you concluded that this was just how he was. This realization is enough to boost your confidence a bit. You smile at him, “I know this local food truck.” You check your phone for the time quickly before putting it away, “They should be fairly close by.” Aaron watches you for a while. You couldn’t read his expression. It still just looked like a scowl. Once again, you found yourself questioning whether that was just how he was or if he didn’t like you. Your nerves get the better of you, so you started to backtrack, “That's only if you still want to get dinner… with me.” You pause for a second, not giving him time to answer, “It’s okay if you don’t want to.” You start chewing on the inside of your cheek. He motions for you to lead the way, “No, That sounds fine.” You smile and begin navigating the streets until you find where the food truck is customarily parked this time of night.

You stop when you reach your destination. There is a small line just because of the time of night, but the area isn't overly crowded. You already know what you want, but you motion Aaron to the extensive menu on the truck's side, “Once you figure out what you want, I can order for us.” You smile. Aaron gives you a stern nod. Part of you was surprised he didn’t slip away while you were leading him here. He didn’t exactly seem to be having a great time. Aaron seemed like the type who would be too nice to say he wasn’t enjoying himself, and he would just tough it out. Aaron finds what he wants and tells you. He makes a face, “Do you pay after you get the food then?” You tilt your head confused for a second, and then realize that he expects to pay because of the date's whole arrangement. Which you supposed that made sense, but you didn't feel right doing that to anyone. So in response, you just nod your head. Clearly, it was unconvincing because he narrowed his eyes at you. You slipped away and stood in line before he could say anything. What you didn't plan for was he decided to follow you and stood in line with you. You narrow your eyes at him, and he glances over at you out of the corner of his eye. Aaron’s eyes looked almost playful. You can't help but smile as you quietly ask him, “Are you challenging me to a bill race?” You could have sworn you had seen Aaron smirking before he spoke, “I don’t know what you're talking about.” He looked borderline happy, and it was a good look on him. You playfully scoff, “Good luck.”

You already had a plan, and you were going to beat Aaron at this pay race. You knew the people who ran this place, but you weren't going to reveal your secret weapon. You knew a card would be much faster to pay with, so you slipped it out of your wallet and into your hand while waiting in line. When you both got to the front of the line, you smiled when you saw Evie, the motherly woman who ran the food truck. She looked tired but smiled back at you, “The usual?” You nod happily, “Yes, please. But I’m adding his food to my order.” You tell Evie what Aaron had said he wanted. Evie presses the total and does what she always does and gives you a student discount. Evie turns her back to you, “I’m going to trust that you won't jump over the counter like you normally do because you have a guest.” You can feel Aaron giving you a look. You laugh nervously and glance at him, “It’s not as bad as she is making it sound.” Once Evie gets involved enough in cooking your food, you do what you always do. You hop up enough, so your front half is through the order window, and your fingers can press the buttons on the register. You could feel Aaron’s glare as he probably thought you were doing something immoral. You quickly remove the discount from your total, making sure you're paying full price, “You should know better than to trust me like that, Evie. I refuse to let you discount my food.” Evie whips around, glaring at you. You huff as you have to reach further to swipe your card and press the accept button before Evie can fix it. Evie smacks your arm in an annoyed fashion. You wince and drop out of the food truck's ordering window. Evie glares down at you, “You're a student… It's a student discount.” You shrug and smile at her, “Raise your prices, and I’ll think about letting you give me a discount, but currently, you're not charging enough, in my opinion.” Evie shakes her head at you before cracking a smile, rolling her eyes as she goes back to cooking, “You're lucky I like you.” You go to put your card away, “Thanks for putting up with me.” You know you didn't really have the extra money, but you didn’t want to worry about that right now, so ignoring your close to empty wallet, you pull out a few extra dollars. Waiting until Evie isn't looking so you can stick it in her tip jar. If she saw you doing that, you’d get yelled at again. Evie finished both of your meals. Before she hands them to you, she eyes the tip jar. You were predictable, so Evie knew to check every time you ordered food from her. Evie glared straight at you. You raise your hands defensively, and when Evie’s glare intensified, you did something fairly childish. You point at Aaron, not so discreetly motioning your head in his direction to blame him for the money that appeared in her tip jar. Evie shakes her head as she finally hands the food over.

You walk over to a table and sit down. Aaron sits across you with a smirk on his face, “Really? You tried to blame me?” He started to look like he was enjoying himself. You make a playfully guilty face, “You saw how she is.” You start laughing, not even able to keep the fake guilty look on your face. Aaron chuckles. You smile and add, “Plus, I couldn't let you win.” Aaron shakes his head in an amused manner. With that, both of you start eating dinner. When both of you finished eating, Aaron looked at his watch. He gets a conflicted look on his face, “It’s getting late.” It was pretty late, and you weren't sure what else you two could do on this date, but you were slightly disappointed that it had to end. You nod, “I guess it is…” You smile, “I had a great time, though.” Aaron nodded, “It did go a lot better than expected.” You were thinking of how to ask him if he wanted to do this again or if maybe you two should exchange numbers. Aaron seems to have read your thoughts. His eyebrows knitted together, “But… I don’t think we should do this again.” Your breath catches in your throat. You were surprised. You had thought it was going well after leaving the restaurant. You stumble over your words, “I...Uhh…Okay.” You were confused and wanted to ask what the issue was, but then part of you just blamed the circumstances of you both meeting. Aaron's frown sets further into his face, “You seem great…” You narrow your eyes waiting for him to continue. Aaron looks apologetic, “I’ve never been in a ‘situation’ like this. You must have better options waiting for you.” You couldn't help but laugh, “I've never done this before either.”

Now Aaron looked confused, “But you’re-” You interrupt him, “I casually agreed to it a week ago. That same night my friend dragged me to meet David.” Aaron scans your face, trying to read you, “You ‘casually agreed’ to be a sugar baby?” You had both been dancing around that topic all night, but he cut through the pretense quickly, seeming suspicious now. You press your lips into a straight line and let out a heavy sigh, “Absentminded might be a better term.” Aaron looked extremely skeptical, not accepting that as the full answer. You let out another sigh trying to figure out how to explain it, “I’ve been having some issues trying to pay-” You stop yourself, not wanting to get into that whole mess, “I’ve been having financial problems. My friend, Oliva, got tired of me complaining about it and ‘being a major bummer’. So she brought up becoming a sugar baby because that's what she and my other friend, Mason, do for a living.” You pause, taking a chance to look at Aaron’s face. His demeanor hasn’t budged at all. You felt like you were being interrogated, helping you understand the phrase ‘if looks could kill’. You swallow hard and continue, “She had brought it up a billion times before, but it didn’t seem like the thing for me. I hate being that dependent on people. Makes me feel weird. But the problem was weighing on me enough that I said ‘what the fuck, what's the worst that could happen.’” You roll your eyes, remembering the next part, “The next thing I know, Oliva is literally dragging me out of the place we were at talking about how she was taking me to meet someone famous about the whole sugar daddy thing. Once I met David, we had maybe a thirty-minute conversation before he gave me only your first name with where and when to meet for the date.” Aaron looks beyond annoyed. You thought he was annoyed at you until he let out a long sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose, “God damn it, Dave.” Aaron mumbled mostly under his breath. When he looked back up, his face had softened drastically, “He didn’t tell me anything either.” You offer a nervous smile, “Both our friends are assholes.” He nodded in agreement. You rub the back of your neck, “I never do anything like this. Oliva kinda just rushed me into it, but I figured, why not?” Aaron watches you, looking conflicted again.

You can’t help but fidget under his gaze. After a long pause, he finally says something, “What are you having financial problems with?” You tried to avoid the question, “It’s not that big of a deal.” He still waits for you to answer. When you keep avoiding both answering and eye contact, Aaron questions you, “Are you lying about having problems then? Because you were more than willing to spend money tonight.” You only shake your head in response, biting at the inside of your cheek as you stubbornly refuse to answer. Aaron further tried to provoke a reaction out of you, “So you're a liar then?” He phrased it as a question but made it sound like he already thought you were a liar. Which got under your skin a bit, so you quickly spat out, “I’m not lying.” Aaron stares you down, “Then answer the question.” Part of you was startled by the tone he was using, but the other part of you knew he was just trying to find out more about you. You sigh, “I… A few extra dollars isn't going to fix my financial problems.” You pause, hoping that he will accept that as an answer. Aaron did not, waiting for you to elaborate. Taking a deep breath before you finally cave, “There is an issue with my scholarship for school and with my place of employment.” This time you weren't trying to avoid answering the question, but you were trying to avoid sounding like you were guilting him or looking for sympathy. Aaron reads your expression and stops the slightly aggressive questioning. He offers you a small smile after a moment, “I’m going to give you my phone number. We can go on another date and discuss things further.” You open your mouth to speak, but you're too surprised to find the words right away. You minorly collect yourself, “You don't have to…” Aaron shakes his head, “I want to. Overall I had a nice time.” He pauses, looking right at you, “To be honest, I was unsure about this whole situation and about you.” He optimistically raises his eyebrows, “I’ve come to the conclusion that you're trustworthy. You seem like a good person. Even though it's a bit more unorthodox then I’m used to, I’m willing to see where this goes if you are.” You can’t help but smile as you enthusiastically nod, “Yes. I… I would like that very much.” You both exchanged phone numbers before getting up from the table. Aaron walks you back to the restaurant your date started at.

Aaron stops before going to his car, “Do you need a ride?” You laugh and shake your head, “Nah, I can just Uber back to my place” Aaron makes a face before rolling his eyes, “Come on. I’m giving you a ride.” He didn’t leave much room for debate, so you comply. You chuckle, getting into the passenger seat of his car, “Your bossy.” Aaron starts the car and laughs, “I have been told that before.” After that, there isn't a whole lot of talking during the car ride. Just you giving Aaron directions to your apartment. The first date tension and awkwardness is still there between you two, but you did feel safe around him. Considering you just met him, you didn't have a bad feeling about getting into his car. When Aaron gets closer to your apartment, his scowl comes back. You were curious, “What's wrong?” He glances at you, “This isn't the best neighborhood.” You couldn’t tell if he was being protective of you already, or it was just general gentlemanly behavior or maybe even a mixture of the two. You thought it was sweet, though. Aaron was right. It was kind of a bad part of town. You shrug, “I suppose. I don’t think about it all that much.” He glances over at you again, this time judgment in his eyes. You roll your eyes dramatically, “But I still make sure to pay attention… I’m not naive.” Most of the judgment leaves Aaron’s eyes, but he still seems on edge about the area. When he finally gets to your place, you hopped out of his car, “Thanks for the ride.” Right as you're about to close the car door, you hear the engine turning off, followed by Aaron saying, “Not so fast.” Aaron gets out of the car, walking over to you. You raise an eyebrow at him. Aaron replies without you having to say anything, “I’m not letting you walk to your front door all by yourself.” You start walking and chuckle, “I walk to my front door all the time by myself.” Aaron walks by your side, giving you a halfhearted glare. You chuckle, playfully nudging him with your shoulder, “Thanks though, it’s sweet.” This earns you a smile from Aaron, which in a contagious fashion, causes you to smile as well. You reach your door and pull out your keys to unlock it. As you open the door and step into your apartment, you have an odd realization that if this had been a date with someone closer to your age, you’d have to worry about them assuming they were invited into your apartment for ‘coffee’. However, Aaron’s motivation was legitimately about your safety. It was a nice change from other people you had dealt with. Getting another sudden boost of confidence, you turned around in your doorway to face Aaron, “Call me soon, okay?” Aaron smiles and nods, “Of course.” You smile back, “Goodnight, Aaron.” Aaron replies, “Goodnight, [Y/N].” He starts to walk away, and you close your door. As you locked the door and got ready for bed, you couldn't help but think about what a rollercoaster the last few hours had been.

Beginning of Unconventional – Peer Pressure* – Second Date

Tags: @joyofbebbanburg @withyoutilltheendofthismess @marvel-is-my-life-blog

[chandelier-s-notebook]

Doodlewash April 2021 prompt 18: Dragon

I made another AU. Because I don’t have enough of those I guess.

Also. I don’t really know how I feel about the pacing of this, and there is so much telling. It’s just a first draft, I need to sleep on it before I like it, but I don’t have time to do that. So while it’s fresh off the line, please enjoy this fic.

If anyone wants to be part of a taglist of this Dragon Rider AU, feel free to message me/send an ask/or mention it in reblogs.

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This was the best school fieldtrip ever. Ridiara Prep had taken its students to the Premier League Juniors’ Dragon Racing Finals.

The day’s races were not only for national championship spots, but it was also a school day – which meant that huge swaths of the stands were reserved for half price student tickets.

The Manbri National Junior’s Dragon Race Eventing had space for four jockeys from each of the sixteen districts. Even before the Finals the people of The Yaston District knew that two slots would to go Number 35 and Number 13, or as their names, Technoblade and Dream. It was just a toss up to see who slots three and four would go to.

Tommy, Tubbo, and Ranboo sat in a cluster about as far away from the action as you could get. Not my choice, no they’d much rather be pressed against the rails, leaning over the edge watching the events unfold. Unfortunately, the seats provided by Ridiara Prep where all the way in the back corner. And if they were going to be confined to the back-most section, then these boys were going to sit all the way in the back and be petty.

The air in the stadium was electric as school started pouring in from all over Yaston.

Tommy was a bored kind of excited. The kind where you sit still and do other things while the anticipation builds internally. The kind where you know what to expect, but the energy and the thrill gets you going.

Tubbo was to bouncy type of excited. The kind where you can’t stay still and can’t help but look around at everything.  The kind where you absorb the energy of everyone else in the room and let it out with your movement.

Ranboo was the talkative kind of excited. The kind where you can’t contain yourself; where you ramble on and on about the things on your mind. The kind where you know that you might be annoying everyone around you, but you don’t care.

At 10:50am the first fleet of four racers came onto the course. The crowd screamed. The racers flew their dragons into the cages. At 11am the jumbotron screen showed the gates fall down and the cages lower below the course as the jockeys shoot forward.

The dragons weaved around each other and the course. Six laps around, the first two to cross the finishing line on the last lap would move onto the next round.

The course had a simple winding fight path with straight-aways, sharp turns, and more rounded ones. There was also a lower and upper flight limit, the dragons could overtake each other by going around or over or under, but you had to catch up first.

There were sixteen racers in the Finals, which meant seven races over the course of the day. Technoblade and Dream were on opposite sides of the tournament bracket so it would be in the afternoon when they faced off – if neither of them choked on their way to qualification for the Nationals placement flight.

The crowd had just as much energy at the end of the day as the beginning. The Nationals team was going to be Number 35, Technoblade; Number 13, Dream; Number 54, Punz; and Number 3, Puffy. The final race of the day was simply to put them in the tournament brackets.

Ranboo and Tubbo were Technoblade fanboys. They were screaming for their favourite to win. Tommy was just as excited, but it was infinitely less obvious. He just didn’t express his joy, but he did have on a dopy smile the whole time, and his eyes narrowed when anyone overtook Technoblade.

The thing about the Juniors’ League was that it was the lowest age category with the over sixteen rules. And honestly the only difference between above sixteen and below sixteen was the saddle. Those under sixteen raced with a saddle, while those over had foot stapes attached to a harness wrapped where the saddle would sit on the dragons. Don’t worry, it wasn’t a hard shift when kid turned sixteen, they could start practicing with foot stapes at twelve, but racing rules changed at sixteen.

Techno had his reigns held tightly in his hands. Held perfectly so when his dragon pulled forward, he could lean back comfortably. So when he did turns he could shift is body weight easily from foot to foot. Techno’s hair had been braided and curled into a bun at the base of his skull, his roots where very brown as he hadn’t had the time to dye it back pink recently.

Unlike Techno, Puffy was leaned all the way forward. She held the reigns much closer to the bit and saw hunched over close to her dragon’s neck. She was concentrated and gave a little shout whenever she passed someone. Whether she was falling behind or pulling forward.

Dream was much the same as Techno, but his blond hair was cut pretty boy short. He held himself with confidence and seemed to be outwardly enjoying himself while staying super competitive.

Punz was leaned forwards as well. He pretty much stayed super competitive the whole time. He trades spots with the rest of them a few times. None of the four was ever clearly ahead.

In the end, the standing where: Techno, Puffy, Dream, Punz. The crowd blew up when they realized that Puffy got second, she was a fan favourite and it was always an event when either Dream or Techno were knocked down a placement. And neither where salty about it, so no one gave a shit. They gave cheers.

Then it was time to leave. There were only so many so many school busses and Ridiara Prep hadn’t managed to book the first wave, or the second, they were on the third wave of busses. So they had a lot of time to kill. And after the second wave of students left, the teachers let the kids run free.

Tommy had a plan. He was going to sneak into the dragon stalls and see the racers. Tubbo was all for this plan. Ranboo wasn’t.

But Ranboo did give in, in the end.

The three of them whispered to each other as they ran around and tried to find what they were looking for. And they did, Tubbo had found a map and they slipped past security. Of course once they were inside the dragon stables Ranboo warmed up to the idea.

“Can we go find Carl?”

“Carl? Technoblade’s dragon?” Tubbo asked. “Oh my god we could go find Technoblade’s dragon. Let’s go find him.”

“Come on!” Tommy bolted. “Let’s go find the red dragon.”

“Carl’s scarlet.”

“Fanboy much Ranboo.”

“Shut up Tommy.”

The three kids looked at every dragon they passed and named which racer they belonged to. They finally reached Carl’s stall.

Ranboo put his hand up for the dragon to sniff. Carl came closer and bonked Ranboo’s hand with his snout. Then Tubbo did the same. Tommy was keeping watch while the other two interacted with Technoblade’s dragon.

“Hey!” a voice called. “I don’t think you kids should be here.”

“Is that Dream?” Tubbo whispered.

“Yes,” Tommy whispered back. “Hey big man!” Tommy shouted to the third place winner. “I’m allowed to be here.”

“You are?” Dream humored him. “What about your friends? Are they allowed to be here?”

Tommy pointed to Tubbo, “He has plus one privileges, not sure about that guy though.”

Ranboo snorted. “Thanks man.”

Dream walked up behind them. “You kids should leave. Just go and I won’t call security. Also, Techno really doesn’t like people messing with his dragon.”

“It’s fine,” Tommy dismissed. “Carl loves me. Don’t you boy?”

Dream shot Tommy a strange look. Then there was thumbing from Carl’s stall, like he was waving his tail and there wasn’t enough space. Dream glanced at Carl. “Huh.”

“See?” Tommy in all his bravado put his hand through the bars on the door into the stall. Carl started rubbing his snout on Tommy’s palm. “We’re good man.”

“I will call security.”

“Do that.”

“Don’t do that.” Ranboo grabbed Tommy and started pulling him away. “We’ll be on our way. Sorry for breaking and entering.”

“Ranboo!” Tubbo scolded. “Don’t make it seem worse than it is. We didn’t break anything.”

“I believe you.”

“Good.”

“Tommy. Come on. We should really get back to the class.”

“Why? I’m just going home?”

“Yeah?” Tommy continued to shrug off Ranboo and play with Carl. “Who’s a good boy?”

Dream smiled softly at the exasperated and apologetic looks Tubbo and Ranboo were sending him. “I’m very sure that Technoblade doesn’t like when people mess with Carl.”

Tommy waved his free hand. “I’m not messing with him.”

“Messing with who?”

And that was went Tubbo and Ranboo froze. On the one hand; Technoblade, they were messing with his dragon and should apologize and dip. On the other hand; Technoblade, must fanboy.

Dream gestured to Tommy petting Carl with no regard for his safety.

“And?”

“And?” Dream gestured more expressively. “Kid petting your dragon?”

“And?”

“You don’t let me do that?”

Tommy turned around to stick his tongue out at Dream.

“You aren’t the kid?”

“But why can the kid? I let you interact with Spirit!”

“Carl’s not Spirit.”

“Obviously.”

“Techno can I ride with you home? I don’t want to take the bus.”

“Yeah sure,” Techno said without a first thought. “My dragon. I make the rules.”

“Did you just?”

Techno turned to the sound. “And you are?” he asked Tubbo.

“Uhm.”

“That’s Tubbo.”

“This is Tubbo?”

“Yeah. But of a bitch isn’t he?”

“No?”

“Other guy is Ranboo. My other friend.”

“Right.” Techno turned back to Tommy. “They coming over for dinner?”

“Can they? Will we all fit on Carl?”

“No. But I brought Andrew. He could probably fit all three of you. You’re all tiny.”

“Well Technoblade.” Tommy’s voice took on a bratty quality. “We’re only fourteen, that’s not super small Mr. nineteen.”

“Do you want to ride Andrew home or would you rather crawl back into the hole you came from and take the school bus on?” Techno deadpanned.

“Andrew.”

“Cool. Let’s go get him.” Techno kept walking down the corridor to Andrew’s stall a little further down.

“What just happened?” Ranboo asked, still processing a few sentences behind.

“Technoblade’s my older brother.”

“Wilbur’s your older brother,” Tubbo corrected.

“Wilbur has a twin.”

“Huh?”

“Come on. Let’s go. We get to ride Andrew home. I’ll drive, you two and just sit tight.” Tommy took both of his friends’ hands; he knew they wouldn’t be walking on their own for a few minutes more.

The racers were all tacking up their dragons for the return journey and the busses had yet to come for the third wave of school children. Tubbo and Ranboo settled themselves into Andrew’s saddle ina daze while Tommy strapped his feet in.

Dream was still following, pestering Techno about his little brother.

“Hey Toms. Do a few loops around the track while you wait for me.”

“Yessir!”

And they were off.

Tommy waved to the teacher before flying off into the skyways behind Techno. Just letting him know not to wait up for the three boys.