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mrallnight57-blog · 3 years ago

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The Crystal of Mordokia

Chapter 6

Gothic Mirror stood on the second floor, above the stage watching the Punk Rockers, and other members of the Gothic Lights prepare for tonight's event. Suddenly he felt a tap on his shoulder.

Gothic Mirror didn't like being touched, especially by those he felt were inferior. He slowly turned to the man touching his shoulder, and gave him a stare that showed he greatly disapproved of the man's actions.

The man tapping his shoulder was one of the Punk Rockers. Gothic Mirror noticed that the name on his jacket said Spin Doctor. When Gothic Mirror began staring at him. The man immediately put his hands up to try and show, he was not there to cause him any trouble.

"Hey... uh Gothic Mirror was it? I'm not here to start any trouble... I.. I'm just here to ask a couple of questions."

Gothic Mirror just stared at Spin Doctor in silence. Spin Doctor looked away, and began scratching his head. It was at this point Gothic Mirror realized he needed to say something, or the complete moron was just going to keep standing there, and not say anything. So Gothic Mirror broke his silence. "What? What do you feel you need to ask me?"

"Oh... uh... thanks." Spin Doctor smiled. He was happy he finally got permission to speak. "So The Disciples aren't going to be playing there music until midnight tonight. What are your plans until then?"

Gothic Mirror seemed confused by the question. "What do you mean?"

Spin Doctor began to elaborate. "Well, you don't have any food, also I imagine there probably not going to be any music until the band plays. So I was wondering what you had planned."

Gothic Mirror stood there puzzled for a moment. "Well I rarely plan events like this."

Spin Doctor scratched his head again. "Wait. You're a leader of a new religion, and you don't plan events for your followers."

Gothic Mirror began to get offended. "I'm a very busy man, and I depend on others to get the message out!"

Spin Doctor backed away. "Dude! I'm trying to help you out here. Look, before I joined the Punk Rockers, I was a dj. Let me get the boys to go out and get some food, and I'll go back to our hide out, and get my music."

Suddenly Gothic Mirror noticed Mr. Tucker and some teenagers enter the room below. Gothic Mirror then turned back to Spin Doctor. "Okay. Do what you think is best. I have business to tend to."

"Cool." Spin Doctor smiled. "What kind of music you want. Rock, heavy metal, alternative. I also got some rap and hip hop."

Gothic Mirror reached out with both hands, and grabbed Spin Doctor by his jacket. "Heavy metal and alternative is fine, but heaven help you if you play any rap or hip hop in this building! If you do, I will have you pissing your pants, and hiding under your bed for the rest of your life!"

Spin Doctor was shaking. He swallowed hard. "O..okay, well, I will not grab those cds then."

Gothic Mirror let him go. "Good. Now begone with you." Gothic Mirror began walking towards the stairs, so he could greet Mr. Tucker.

"Oh yeah! One more thing." Spin Doctor had called out to Gothic Mirror.

Gothic Mirror was getting agitated. He turned to Spin Doctor and yelled. "What!?!"

At that moment Gothic Mirror could hear Mr. Tucker telling his guest. "Don't be afraid. Our leader is actually a very kind man."

Gothic Mirror felt a rush of embarrassment come over him. Normally he could keep his cool, but the stress of the event, and the inoance of being bothered, got the best of him.

Spin Doctor took a deep breath, and very quickly said, " I just wanted you to know that Rolo was preparing The Disciples dressing room. So that when they got here, they would be comfortable."

Gothic Mirror was trying to calm down. "Excellent. Tell Rolo thank you for putting me in contact with them." Gothic Mirror then turned, and made his way down the stairs.

Once Gothic Mirror got down stairs, he began making his way to Mr.Tucker and his students. Once Mr. Tucker spotted him. Mr. Tucker began walking towards him to greet him. "Master it is so great to see you. It's been quite sometime since last we saw each other.

Gothic Mirror rolled his eyes, they had actually saw each other that morning, during the break at the government lab. In fact the break in had caused Tucker to be late for work.

Gothic Mirror gave a faint laugh. He was pretending to be happy to see Tucker, but truth be told, he could care less about him, or anyone else for that matter. People were just tools to him, and the moment they lost their usefulness, he throw them out, or dispose of them.

Gothic Mirror looked over at the students. "I see you brought some fine re...cruits." Gothic Mirror trailed off for a second, because one of the students took him by surprise.

Gothic Mirror stared at Franklin. He was a little confused by why someone like him would be here. "An African American?"

Franklin's eyes widen. It was at this point he noticed Gothic Mirror staring a hole through him, and all he could think was. Oh shit! This guy is racist. After a few seconds of awkward silence. Franklin decided to say something. "Um... you can just say black."

Gothic Mirror gave an awkward laugh, he realized he was freaking the boy out. He also didn't want the boy to think he was racist. Truth be told Gothic Mirror wasn't racist at all, because he hated everyone equally.

Gothic Mirror smiled at Franklin. "I do want to say, and I mean no disrespect, and I want you to know all is welcome here. I was just taken off guard, because..." Gothic Mirror paused trying to think of a polite way to say what he wanted to say.

Franklin finally intervened. "I think you're trying to say, you never met a black person interested in the a cult.

"Exactly!" Gothic Mirror smiled.

"It's cool man." Franklin said with a smile. "You see, my boy Matt and I have been friends since kindergarten, and when he started getting into it. I sort of got into it too. I actually hear that shit all the time, my parents hate that I'm into it. They were hoping I would get into basketball, or football instead. So I'm use to people being shocked, that this is what I'm into."

Gothic Mirror turned to Matt. "Ah so you're the one who has brought this group together. You must be a very wise young man."

Suddenly Gothic Mirror heard one of the young ladies clear her throat. "Actually I'm the one who brought us together."

Gothic Mirror stared at the young woman, and under his breath muttered. "Of course it was a woman who brought them together." Gothic Mirror hated young people. Even though he himself was only twenty nine. He felt that he was more wise and mature than people three times his age. Most young people were rude and felt intitled. Which was the biggest reason why he didn't want to deal with them, but he needed them to spread his message.

He also currently wasn't very fond of woman and girls. This was for an entirely different reason, which he didn't want to think about it at this moment.

Gothic Mirror turned to the young woman who spoke. "And you are?"

"Samantha!" The girl extended her hand.

Gothic Mirror stared at her hand for a second before reaching out and gently grabbing the tips of her fingers, giving it one shake and letting it go."

Samantha looked at her hand to make sure nothing nasty was on. Normally guys couldn't wait to touch her hand, or some part of her body, but for some reason, this guy seemed to want nothing to do with her. For a second she thought. Maybe this guy is gay.

Mr. Tucker approached Gothic Mirror and put his arm around him. Gothic Mirror stared coldly at Mr.Tucker as to tell him, that he did not want him to touch him. Mr. Tucker seem to ignore the que, and began whispering in his ear. While pointing at the tallest member of the group. Which happen to be Tim.

"Look at this young man over here. He be perfect for... Mr. Tucker paused. Then nodded towards Tim. "The plan."

Gothic Mirror smiled. "Ahh, yes this lad would be perfect."

This got both Tim and Katey's attention. Mr. Tucker turned to them and said, "Tim tell our wonderful leader about your time playing football."

Tim was taken a back by the inquiry, and didn't understand why his time in football mattered. "Well, I was middle line backer last year, and I did it, was because my parents forced me. I actually hate football."

Gothic Mirror removed Mr. Tucker's arm from around his shoulder, and stepped towards Tim. "Yes. I agree. Football is a barbaric sport, but seeing that you are a powerful young man. We could definitely use someone like you."

Katey was beginning feel uncomfortable, while Samantha fully confirmed to herself, that, yup the man was gay. Katey didn't like how these older men were talking about, and looking at her Timmy. In fact Mr. Tucker just freaked her out in general, and his so called Master, seemed like a scum bag. Katey just couldn't stay silent for any longer. "Hey! Aren't you guys suppose to be showing us a Demon!?!"

Gothic Mirror and Mr. Tucker looked at each other and laughed. Gothic Mirror then turned back to Katey. "The Demon is not set to appear until after the concert."

Katey folded her arms. "You know. I'm starting to think you guys are full of shit!"

Gothic Mirror smiled, then began walking towards Katey. Katey's friends began urging her to calm down. Tim even said, "Babe, be quite. You are going to fuck things up." But before anyone else could say anything. Gothic Mirror was in front of Katey.

Gothic Mirror smiled, and placed a finger on Katey's temple. She tried to back away, but for some reason she couldn't move. It was like her body completely froze.

Gothic Mirror leaned in close to Katey and whispered. "You want to see a Demon. I'm going to show you a Demon.

#horror #supernatural #super hero #my writing

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trillian-anders · 5 years ago

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true love

pairing: bucky barnes x reader

warnings: fluff && smut, bucky being a cheeky little shit and soft boy

word count: 2.7k

description: stripper au; bucky is a tease and honestly just such a gooey romantic. just a little snapshot.

A strip club before hours. Inside you’d find the dancers stretching, practicing new routines and a loop of the same song over and over again until they were satisfied or being forced to move onto something else. The servers are wiping down tables, setting up for bachelorette parties and straightening the chairs around the main stage. The host was cleaning the mirrors and the front door with Windex, knowing that they would just be covered with prints from hands and fingers an hour into the night.

The bar was being stocked, backup bottles. Fruit was being cut and sangria being prepped. Gallons of it. The clientele loved sangria. The cocktail of the night, special for the bride to be prepped for the bachelorette party, paid for in advance by the bottle. A sugar bomb of midori sour and vodka, cherries and club soda. Neon green and toxic, it made you gag just mixing it together.

It was the same thing every night. Another bachelorette party, another batch mixed drink, another stack of ones ready to be switched out for bigger bills the clients needed to break in order to stuff those dollar bills in the g-string of one of the many handsome performers that would take the stage tonight.

A destination strip club under the same corporation that owned Magic Mike, just on the east coast. It would be busy. But you and the other three bartenders were ready, the money was good here. Too good for you to ever consider leaving. And since the clientele was made in its entirety women and gay men, you felt safe working there. No sleazy guy on his sixth bud lite wanting to grab your ass as you cleaned up after his spilled beer. Granted some of the clients were still hellish, but you’d take not getting groped over being sexually harassed by bar patrons any day.

The lights would drop low soon, music pumping through the speakers as the DJ finishes setting up his booth. The endless grind from 8pm to 3am that would leave you ready for some diner food and bed.

“Boys!” You call, “What do you want?” Allowed a start of work drink, you called to the men standing on the stage.

“Anything you wanna give me sugar.” You glare at the first man to respond, his cheeky grin knowing how much you hated it when he called you sugar, how patronizing.

“Okay, everyone but Bucky,” You laugh, “What do you want?” The man in question slipping off the stage to walk over and help distribute shots.

“Why are you always so mean to me?” Pouting and arms crossed on the bar. You roll your eyes pouring the requests of green tea shots across the board. And an extra-large one for you and your favorite performer.

“Why are you always so annoying?” A rebuttal. But he loved it. He always does. Your shot glass clinking against his, tapping on the bar top and shot back in two.

“I love you.” He hums, stealing a kiss. The tip of his tongue brushing your bottom lip softly before pulling away and setting his shot glass in yours.

“I love you too.” A shared grin. “Have fun tonight.”

“Oh I will.” He’s cheeky, but it’s a part of him that you found so endearing.

A story you’re sure you’d tell the grandkids, how you met him in the first place. Back when you first started working here. He’d already been performing for a while. Back when you were waiting tables and having to deal with the sloppy drunk clients without a buffer of service bar in between.

Truly romantic how he’d been grinding himself against a woman in a bridal sash and giving you the same cheeky grin that he gives you now. You watched him grip himself through the silk thong and tripped and spilled your tray over a table and all the clients sitting there. An order to go get some air and you cried in the alley behind the building thinking that you were going to get fired and when his set was finished he came looking for you.

“They’re not going to fire you,” He soothed, pulling you into his arms, “You’re gonna be just fine.” You choked out nasty sobs into his chest, the thin zip hoodie he was wearing doing nothing to disguise the firm bare flesh underneath, you maybe pretended to have the need to be held a little longer than you actually did.

That incident was something he carefully held over your head to this day, a funny jab, especially after a night of seeing stars and loud moans. The paint chipped and wall worn where the headboard slammed into it. He wouldn’t paint over it as a matter of pride. A story of his sexual prowess and ability to bend you in half and make you cum so hard that you blackout or cry split on his dick.

He’d convinced you to go back into the club after you calmed down, he bought you a drink after the shift had ended, and then ate you out on his couch after you’d had pancakes at the diner below his apartment. And you’d been in love ever since.

That sick, ooey-gooey, no you hang up kind of love.

“You guys are so gross.” Nat bumped her hip against yours, grabbing the remaining shot glasses and sitting them in the dishwasher. You laugh.

The night began with body paint and blacklights. A steady pump of bass as each performer took the stage, they made their rounds around the room. Back curtains closing for private dances. The bar was full and service bar was popping, the tickets endless. The tip jar stuffed full. A good night. As bachelorette parties often were. They would take up a nice little section, the rest of the walk-ins and birthday parties, etc. taking up the rest of the space.

You could feel his eyes on you, the little games he liked to play at work. He knew you would look at him. The way he danced on stage, sinking down to let someone stick a dollar on his hip. The way he grabbed himself to the squeals of women.

The fucking tease, tugging his lip and meeting your eye. A playful smirk. Watching you shake a drink.

The first time he played this game was the day after he made you cum on his tongue, then his fingers, then his cock. Twice. As you wait tables, he would give you that little smirk, the grind of his hips, a brush against you as you walked around him with your tray. A playful tug on your skirt.

It would end with his back on the wood floor of his apartment, hands gripping your hips hard enough to bruise while you rode yourself to orgasm. Knees red and sore. And continue after eating a snack on his kitchen floor, your back now on the linoleum and your knees pressed to your chest while you dug your fingernails into his biceps and down his back. Something hastily fixed with concealer for his next performance.

Your friends outside of work didn’t quite understand how you could deal. “How could you be okay with him grinding himself over other people all night?” But you knew one thing more than anything else,

Bucky Barnes was such a simp.

He fucking loved you. And you knew it. He would never let you forget it. Bucky Barnes was the most affectionate, needy, clingy, I would die for you and all you have to do is ask kind of guy. He was the kind of guy to tell you that he missed you when you just went to the store. The kind of guy that would hop in the shower with you just because he wanted to wash your hair.

“I’m not worried.” You would laugh, “Not in the slightest.” And you knew you didn’t have to be. If the way he would hop up on your bar and tug on your hair mid dance was anything to say, him stuffing bills into your bra while you let a girl do a body shot out of his belly button. You didn’t care as much as those dollars and groping hands on his thick thighs you loved to ride would be paying your rent later.

These clients may be groping him now, but later on it’s your thighs that his head will be between.

It’s their money that will be sitting on your living room floor while both of you unwrinkled the freshly washed money. Their money you would use to buy groceries and pay for your portion of the family vacation you were going on in a few months with the Barnes clan.

The shift ends and you’re left cleaning up. With three other pairs of hands it’s quick work, but burning the ice takes a minute, long enough for Bucky to already be sitting down in front of the bar and sorting your tips out for you, sipping on an after shift drink the two of you were sharing.

“We going to Norma’s?” As the other men sunk down behind the bar, a few waving their goodbyes on their way out the door.

“Sam.” Bucky looked at his friend, “We go to Norma’s every night and every night you ask if we are going.”

“It’s because he likes that waitress.” Nat grinned, flipping the dishwasher on to run the bar mats. A glare from Sam,

“I love that waitress.” The bumbling idiot fawned over her and always tipped her $50 on his $8 patty melt. A shared laugh,

“You’ve asked her out, how many times now?” Steve, thankful for the leftover sangria in front of him, took a sip.

“Just like four, five maybe.” Bucky lifted the pint glass, salt lining the rim and a few granules left on his bottom lip. “This margarita is good sweetheart.” A recipe you found online, something new you’d wanted to try. You hum, taking a sip and nodding. “She doesn’t like you.” Directed at Sam. “You need to stop making her job so difficult, you’re a creep.”

“Am I a creep?” Sam looks between you and Nat. The two of you sharing a look and nodding.

“No one wants to get hit on while they’re working.” You laugh, “That’s all.” He huffs, leaning against the back of the bar stool.

“You guys got any of that neon shit left?” The last little bit of the bachelorette slosh at the bottom of the Cambro. Poured in a glass for him with an apologetic smile.

“I already burned the ice.” He muscled it down.

Bucky’s hand in your back pocket with you tucked into his side you entered the familiar diner and slipped into your usual booth, a playful squeeze to your ass before you sunk down next to each other. Sam, Nat, and Steve across.

His hand settles on your thigh as the waitress Sam was in love with brought over two pitchers of water and glasses, more to make her job easier because these boys were thirsty at the end of the night after performing for hours on end.

A minute later she’d return with a couple sodas and take the order. Sam looking dutifully down at his phone and trying to avoid her eyes.

“You can act like a normal person.” You laugh, our leg going across Bucky’s thigh. “You’re acting like even more of a weirdo.”

“Just relax.” Nat’s hand smoothed over Sam’s arm and he lets out a deep breath. “Don’t be weird.” Easier said than done, he took the fact that you told him not to flirt with her as erasing his whole personality.

“You’ve ruined him.” Steve sipped his water, “The both of you.” A pout to stern Dad-Steve, and he rolled his eyes with a smirk, leaning against the booth and throwing an arm over the back. “He’ll never be able to perform again.”

“Fuck all of you.” Sam glared as peals of laughter broke out at the table. A shift as you felt Bucky’s fingers play with the hem of your shorts. Dipping under a little bit. Your hand slips down and grabs his, pulling his hand away with a playful glare.

“Stop.” Whispered between you as Sam pretended to cry and Nat seemed about done with it.

“I wanna play.” A kiss on your lips. You shake your head and roll your eyes, directing your attention back to your friends.

“Later.”

Later would find him on his back lips red bitten and swollen from kissing as you yank his jeans down his legs, leaving him in just his briefs, the hard outline of his cock pressing against them. Your shorts and panties tugged down your legs, crawling over him to hover over his face. His arms wrapping around your thighs and bringing you down to his mouth.

The grind of your hips on his tongue and the rough stubble burning your thighs. Those moans vibrating against your clit, panting moans coming from your mouth as you grip the headboard and find the friction your need to cum. Working out your aftershocks on his tongue.

A shift of position would find your back against the mattress, your legs over his arms and hooked into his elbows, the blunt head of his cock circling your entrance with the teasing roll of his hips. His mouth against yours, sucking on your tongue and tugging your bottom lip between his teeth.

He starts off slow. A gasp into his mouth as he bottoms out, the tip of him brushing your cervix before he pulls almost all the way out, playing with short and fast thrusts against your g-spot. This was his major source of pride, having you drooling and stupid with lust under him, eyes rolling and nails digging into his back, clawing at his biceps, twisted in the sheets by your head while he rolls one of your nipples on his tongue.

The headboard slamming as you gush around his cock, the signal he needs to start thrusting in deeper to chase his own pleasure. Leaning back onto his heels and pressing your legs together, wrapping his arm around them and laying a kiss to your ankle. His red mouth panting as his hips slapped against yours. Your fingers dipping between your bodies to slap against your clit a couple times, the pleasure being too much. He pushes your hand out of the way, hand laying over your mons and thumb pressing against your clit, moving in tight circles.

“So fucking good for me baby.” A pant against your calf. “One more.” A groan, “Just one more.” You sob from the over-sensitivity as he brought you to one more orgasm, the towel laid out on the bed being put to good use as you squirt on his cock. His hips not relenting until you feel him cum, your legs shaking on his shoulders.

A kiss to your ankles. His hands massaging your legs as you come down. He lays himself on top of you, shifting your legs to wrap around his waist as he meets your lips once, twice, soft, “I love you.” And then with his head on your chest. You reason in that moment, and in every moment, that he was the best thing that ever happened to you.

Finding the club was the best thing that ever happened to you.

“You’re just so handsome.” Your hand on your fist, resting your elbow on the table, looking at him in admiration.

He grins around the lip of his coffee cup and softly massages your foot that was in his lap. The morning found you in the same diner as the night previous, enjoying what would be lunch for other people, but breakfast for the two of you.

“You’re just so beautiful.” His hand meeting yours on the table, a soft squeeze. “I love you.” Bringing his hand to your lips,

“I love you too.”

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes #sebastian stan #steve rogers #captain america #sam wilson #natasha romanov #tfatws #the falcon and the winter soldier

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cupidmarwani-archive · 5 years ago

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Somebody, Please (Tell Me No)

Summary: After the outbreak, Crockett goes on a bender.

Warnings: Drinking, Drugs, Unhealthy Coping, Sexual Assault Mention

WC: ~3.4k

The first thing Crockett does when he’s able to go home is sleep. After a 36 hour shift periodically interrupted with cat naps, he’s too exhausted even for his usual methods of relaxation. He sleeps, dreamless and exhausted, for about eighteen hours before his brain recovers enough to gift him with memories of what he saw on the worst shift of his life. He’s seen a lot, as a trauma surgeon, but this is different. The way the patients looked. The smell. He’ll never forget the smell. But the most potent memory is of getting all the way down to the bone on that man’s arm, and realizing he couldn’t save it. The sound of the bone saw grinds against his memory until he sits up in a cold sweat, gasping for breath and still gagging on the smell.

It takes a few long minutes for his breathing to even out and his brain to register faintly sweet fragrance of his humidifier. Normally it bothers him, but now he’s so grateful for something to focus on that’s real. He’s grateful for Goodwin giving him the next couple days to recover- she said she knew how hard on him it was, that he got hit by this a lot harder than the others. When he checks his phone, the date and time tell him he’s still got another day and a half to do whatever he needs. And it’s late afternoon already as well. Not too early, not too late. The perfect time to get started.

He gets ready faster than usual, but still meticulous because he has a system, a plan, a way he likes to do this in order to stop everything from hurting quite as badly by the time he crawls back to his own bed and passes out. A shower, hot and speedy. Dark jeans he has to wiggle into. Hair gelled artfully messy, something his college roommates affectionately called ‘sex hair.’ A tee shirt that’s comfortable and breathable, but tight enough to get attention. And just for the effect, he puts the slightest rim of makeup around his eyes. It’s not enough to be noticeable to most people, but it’s enough to make his eyes pop. In low lights, a drink in hand, he’ll get the attention he needs.

First stop is the gay bar a few blocks away. This early, it’s pretty empty, but Crockett just needs to start his buzz and eventually find someone who’ll take care of him for the night. Hopefully somebody with paper tabs in plastic baggies, or a joint they might share in a back alley. He looks good when he smokes, he knows, and when it makes his thoughts haze, he stops caring about whose hand is sliding up his shirt.

Just like he thought, there’s just the bartender and a handful of patrons nursing their beers. One, young and brunette, has glitter on his cheekbones. He, too, must be pregaming. And he reminds Crockett of the kid who lost his arm, as he drinks through a martini Crockett can practically smell from here, so much so that he worries he’s seeing things until the bartender clears his throat.

“The usual, Doctor?”

A little rum and coke doesn’t feel like enough. Even as a starter. He shakes his head and scans the extensive shelf. “Give me whatever’s strong.”

Thankfully, there are no questions demanding answers. Just a short wait and a little row of vodka shots because he’s familiar here, and when he needs something sharp, they deliver. One by one, he throws them back. They burn like antiseptic in his throat. Five down the hatch, and people begin to filter in. It’s a Friday night, he realizes, which means it’ll be busy, and he shouldn’t have to worry too hard about finding a way to party.

“So I don’t forget,” he says, and hands over his card to charge for the liquor. He doesn’t care about the price.

Once he gets his card back and pockets it, he allots himself five minutes in the bathroom before he starts asking around. The local dealers know him, but the unknowns often have the better stuff. And to get the best, he has to look the best, so he checks to see what the drinks have done for him other than start the warmth in his blood in the cracked mirror.

His cheeks are flushed up and his eyes glassy. Even with the makeup and the dewy glow of just tipsy, there are heavy shadows betraying his exhaustion. Not pretty enough. He needs lowlights, a way for them all to just focus on his silhouette, and then he’ll be alright. He’ll be alright. But when he shuts his eyes he sees the dead tissue and, for a moment, he smells it again and covers his mouth and nose on instinct.

It really fucked him up.

But he has to go back out, and the floor is just beginning to fill out with bodies to music, humming to life with the DJ’s arrival over the playlist that had been on shuffle. This is easy. He knows how to do this. Crockett pushes his way into the gathering crowd and lets the music wash over him, heavy like his body after five shots. He’s built up a tolerance over time, but this is enough to push him towards what he needs. Music, bodies, sweat. He knows when dinnertime comes because things get more crowded, and different people dance with him for moments at a time. They aren’t who he seeks, but there’s a small high to be found in being wanted as well.

The fifth, or maybe sixth, person to grab his waist and dance with him, make circles with their hips against his body to tell him what they want and ask him for more, has what he needs. He’ll give it to them, but not before he can focus on them and not his life. He needs to be high first. Their hands are familiar, a little rough when they trace his ribs, and their lips are soft against his neck. Part of him wants to demand bruises. Maybe he’ll ask later.

“I’ve got something for you,” his dance partner says. Low voice. Warm breath. Crockett shivers. “Help me out, and I’ll help you.”

Crockett nods and lets himself be led off the floor, toward the back alley where they won’t be bothered. It’s not that he doesn’t have the money, but he likes this better because it doesn’t make him feel as guilty. The relationship becomes mutual, and there’s something relaxing about not needing to make the choices, not having to be in control. Cold gravel, sharp, digs into his knees. Hands tangle in his hair. All before he even gets a zipper undone. He’s more intoxicated than he’d usually be for this, but no one minds. Sloppy or precise, he’s good at this, and it’s a good exchange for the E he’ll be given.

“Open your mouth.”

He does. And he shuts his eyes. And he relaxes his muscles. This helps, this makes him hurt a little less from work destroying him for hours on end. When he gags, it’s not like he did in the hospital, but because he’s so good that someone can’t help wanting more from him- but of course, once it happens, they’re careful not to hurt him again. Gentle and rough at the same time. Fast thrusts into his mouth, a tennis shoe pressed down against his crotch to give him something to chase his own relief on, are different from the hand on his face, stroking his cheek softly and wiping away stray tears. All he has to do is sit here and give in, and when it’s over, he swallows like a good boy and gets a kiss for his trouble.

His legs are weak like jelly, but he keeps his balance as he’s told again, “Open your mouth for me, baby,” and he sticks out his tongue for the little piece of paper to be placed on it delicately. It tastes like nothing. The fingers that drop it taste like sweat. Crockett shuts his eyes and hums, savors the slow dissolve and anticipates what it’ll feel like before long.

“Thank you.”

Another kiss, uncoordinated, and he’s let back inside to get lost again in dancing. More partners, more drinks bought for him by faces he doesn’t remember. It’s blurry, for a while, and he only vaguely registers some things. At one point, he’s pretty sure he has his hand down someone’s pants. At another, somebody holds his face and gives him water. The rest doesn’t seep through the high, including the way work burned him. Not once, in the high, does he think about it, until it starts to fade and his head begins to ache. He needs more.

Crockett feels sticky, drenched in sweat, as he looks around for his dealer again. Nowhere near that he can find. That means a different man, a different choice. He doesn’t mind, but it’s annoying. He finds a face at the bar who looks useful, and sits next to them. Not a word out of his mouth before they wrap an arm around his waste and promise him they’ve got him, he’s in for the night of his life.

So he winds up with a group of men, just as high and desperate as he, wandering down the street to a real club where there’s no pretense of coming to unleash daily stresses. It’s for partying. It’s for them. These new friends of him share a round of shots and get busy. Disappearing with other guests, smoking off to the side. One of them is doing cocaine, and Crockett decides, it’s been a while since he snorted some coke. That’ll certainly help take the edge off this all.

He saunters up to the group and buys himself a small baggy, pours it on the table and cuts neat rows to take in with a rolled bill. It hurts, but the sensations is dulled by his inebriation and he doesn’t notice his nose bleeding until somebody hands him a tissue. He’s alive. He’s here. He’s real. And the night is just as blistering as his blood speeding through his veins, as frantic as the beating of his heart, as frisky as the stranger who gets him up against a wall and tells him he’s beautiful. Beautiful, and worth bringing home to rest in a new bed and get busier than allowed even at a place like this.

Even if he wanted to, he wouldn’t be able to say no. Crockett can’t say no when he goes out like this because then he would have to deal with all the responsibilities he’s trying so desperately to escape. So he says yes, and in the cab ride he shuts his eyes and revels in the touch he’s allowed. Bites along his throat, bruises waiting to happen. A soft hand in his boxers, stroking him and reigniting the pleasure he left in wait after he blew his dealer earlier.

He comes on the car ride. And the man next to him hesitates, but Crockett pulls him into a kiss and promises this won’t spoil the fun just as the cab rolls to a stop. And it’s accepted as an answer, so he stumbles in accompaniment into a nice building, into an elevator where he’s once again pressed to a wall and made to feel good. As he gives back too, proves he can do something right.

They make it into the apartment, luxurious and open and pretty and smelling like linen air freshener. Crockett loves this. He’s got time left on his high, and someone to pass the time with who’s already helping him get out of his clothes. Cool air on his skin, freeing him from overheating, which he suddenly realizes had been happening. He sighs and returns the favor. They’re both stripped down, skin to skin, as Crockett’s carried to a bed and dropped so he bounces and a little laugh bubbles out. Kisses. Affection. Intimacy. He’s wanted and appreciated and everything is going to be okay.

Soft sheets underneath him, he can’t stop touching even as the man who the bed belongs to touches him. His thighs and his hips, his dick. Everything is wet and warm and fast and it’s over so soon, but lasts so long. Crockett’s mouth is dry and he’s tired, he’s tired, but he’s taken care of and there’s hands on his waist when his high crashes.

There’s still a dick in him when he wakes up a few hours later to use the bathroom. His head is pounding, and he winces as he extricates himself from bed. It��s not just his head that hurts, but his ass and various other parts of his body. In the harsh, painful lights of the master bath, he can see the mess of his body. Bruises and scrapes. Some are obvious in origin- his knees from blowing his dealer in an ally, his hips from the man asleep not far. But others are a question. Little marks on his wrists, one on his leg. He squints at his arms.

Taking a piss is more important than figuring that out, and he’s dying to get back to sleep, so he takes care of that and washes his hands with fragrant bar soap. Again, the marks get his attention. They’re a problem for not-hungover-Crockett, he decides.

He stumbles back toward the bedroom, but doesn’t make it. He remembers falling. His head hurting more. And then nothing.

Nothing stays nothing until he wakes up again, in a much more familiar place this time. These blue walls are home in a bad way, and as he slowly takes stock of himself, he figures out exactly why he’s here. Nothing hurts anymore, because of the slow painkiller drip and saline draining into an IV his arm. His head feels a little like cotton, metaphorically and physically when he reaches up to touch it. Something happened. He doesn’t know how he got here, and he definitely doesn’t want to be. There hasn’t been time to process what he went through via liquor and a couple nights out, and he doesn’t want them to see him after one of his rougher nights.

He tries to swing his legs over the edge of the bed, but his body feels so heavy. He gives up after a second and fumbles around for the call button. If he’s here, he might as well find out how. Crockett hates when patients press it more than once. But he’s irritated, and out of it, and wants answers, so he grabs it and keeps hitting it until April comes in, holding a tablet and looking some mix between concerned and unimpressed.

“Glad to see you’re awake,” she says, and it’s too loud.

“Shh,” he says, and his voice is hoarse. “Lights?”

She turns them off for him and comes to the edge of his bed. There’s that worry on her face, and he has the urge to tell her to lighten up, but it’s too much effort. Crockett presses a hand against his head like it’ll help and takes a slow breath.

“Why’m I here?”

April glances away. Then pulls up a file on her tablet. “You were dropped off outside the hospital at about four in the morning with a head injury, completely passed out. Your tox screen showed MDMA, cocaine, and a .13 BAC. And…”

The tox screen doesn’t surprise him. But it probably does everyone else. “Out with it, Nurse Sexton.”

“We did an exam to see if you had any more injuries and…” she clears her throat, “we believe that you may have been sexually assaulted, so when you’re feeling up to it, the police would like to-”

He holds up a hand and she stops talking. Silence, blissful. He wants to sleep some more, and maybe up the dosage on those painkillers so he can sleep the rest of the hangover away. Not talk about her assumptions, or worse, get the cops involved with his not-so-legal extracurriculars.

“Crockett.”

“Listen. I don’t know how I got here, but I do know that nothing like that happened to me.”

“How can you be sure?”

His memories are hazy. Soft sheets. Soft hands. “I had consensual sex. People are gay, Nurse Sexton, just because I like to-”

“Okay, okay.” She laughs a little, but her face stays serious. “But the reason we think that someone hurt you are these bruises.” April takes his hand to hold it up, show off the bruise on his wrist that has started to look like a handprint. “And your tox screen.”

“Everything I took, I knew what I was taking.”

“And the bruises? How you got hurt?”

He presses his lips together and looks away. He doesn’t want to admit that he doesn’t know, and deal with all the fallout. So he pulls his hand away from her and shuts his eyes. “My head hurts, can you give me a little more medicine?”

“I’ll have to ask Lanik. He’s been looking after you.”

She leaves him, with no extra way to dull the sharp pain in his chest and the promise of another interrogation from the head of trauma. He’s about to be fired, probably, and maybe this failure will kill him. With his eyes shut, he can still see that patient’s arm. Everything he wanted to forget. He presses his face into his hands and fights back stinging tears.

Soft rapping against the wall tells him he’s got company. It’s followed by a weight on the edge of the thin mattress. “April said you wanted more painkillers.”

“Are you gonna give them to me?”

“Why do you want them?”

Crockett peeks out from behind his hands and taps his fingers against his temple. “My head hurts. I might have a concussion, Dr. Lanik.”

Lanik shakes his head and puts a hand on Crockett’s leg. He cut into that part of a fourteen year old girl’s leg the other day, and she almost died on his table. He should check on her while he’s here, but the mere thought makes him want to vomit. All he can think about is the way the tissue looked. Smelled. Sounded.

“We did a pretty thorough workup, and we put together some pieces.”

“Okay?”

He doesn’t know what the point of this is. But he hurts and he wants to forget and they’re clearly not about to release him to get fucked up and taken care of the way needs any time soon. So where’s this going? Are they going to tell him that he has the infection? His whole body is kind of numb, but that always happens after a bender and with the painkillers they’ve given him. And he saw his own wrist. It was fine. He’s terrified of what this could be.

“I know this wasn’t a one-time thing,” Lanik says. That same face April gave him blooms on his face. “Between your labs, and a couple comments you’ve made to other doctors, and nurses- it’s clear you have a problem.”

“My problem is that my head hurts.”

Lanik is still touching him. It isn’t soothing like it was from so many last night. Instead, he wants to scream and jump out of bed and get out of this God-forsaken hospital and the horrors contained within it.

“I’m not giving you more painkillers,” Lanik says firmly. And he has the nerve to set a handful of pamphlets on Crockett’s legs with ugly stock photos of beaches and blonde women. “I am giving you a couple weeks off. Get clean, Crockett. Please.”

“Fuck you,” Crockett answers.

Instead of arguing, Lanik leaves. Draws the curtains. Keeps the lights off. And Crockett is left in the dark room with rehab advertisements in his lap, exhaustion heavy in his bones, and painful bits and pieces of the night before. He doesn’t know what happened last night. He never does, but this is the first time something really bad may have happened, because he apparently hit his head hard enough for a concussion and doesn’t remember how.

The wrong memories vanish, and the wrong ones remain.

He pushes the pamphlets onto the floor like it’ll make them vanish, and attempts to sink back into sleep.

#crockett marcel #chicago med #one chicago #one chicago crossover #mine #fic #angst #alcohol //#drugs //#rape //

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artisticestheticreads · 6 years ago

Text

CRYING OUT FOR ME

DISCLAIMER: This is an one shot of Erik Stevens and Black Reader. This contains angst, fluff and a little soft boy Erik. Enjoy. PLEASE LISTEN TO CRYING OUT FOR ME BY MARIO.

ERIK ‘KILLMONGER’ STEVENS X BLACK READER

It was 2007, Oakland, California and Erik ‘Killmonger’ Stevens was about twenty four years old. He had baby dreads that you had done for him since he practically begged you and it was time for his weekly twist and line up. You were the type of stylist that every one in the hood came to. You gave amateur prices but your work was at a professional level. You opened the door to see him in jeans, navy blue tee and some converse as you wore a green and black track jacket with skinny jeans and your house slippers with your hair in fed in French braids.

“What up, E”, you said with a huge smile. He picked you up and gave you a big hug. “What up, baby girl? You ready to bless my shit?” You tussled his hair and said “shiiiit, ima need more than hair gel and oils for your ol’ peanut head. Lemme get my holy water.” You walked off like you were serious but he pulled you back by your belt loop as he sat on your nice maroon couch. You stood behind him by your end table with his back to the arm rest. He turned on the TV to see that Love Jones was playing.

“Aye, Y/N. This yo shit”, he said with a straight face. You smiled as you started. He was telling you about his “appointment” with from Ashley down the street. “She do got a fat ass. Especially when she got those sundresses on”, you said imagining her round ATL peach bottom at attention. Even though, you had a whole boyfriend and you were no where near gay, you still checked females out..especially with Erik. Erik chuckled at your remark and said “hell yeah. But, of course, you know I had to wrap my shit up because she get tossed around more than Mac and cheese on Christmas Day and I like my dick as it is, ya feel me? But yeah, so I’m tryna clap the fuck outta her cheeks but she running and shit so I held her ass down. Yooooo, but Y/N this chick got the ugliest fucking moan. She sound like one of them white hoes in porn and shit. My shit got mad soft, yo. No lie.” You laughed with your head back with a snort that your man hated but Erik loved.

“Damn, I can’t breath. Thanks for the laugh, E. I honestly needed that it.” He looked to you with stitched brows and asked “what’s poppin’, princess?” You saw his eyes as said “it’s Bryan. We got in a huge argument again.” You were finishing up the last dread and his line up. Erik rolled his eyes in annoyance with the petty arguments with your “man”. You went to wash your hands as he put on his du rag and made himself more comfortable. “What his bitch ass crying about now, girl?” You plopped down on the couch with two bottle Arizona watermelon drinks, with chips and subs you made for y’all. “Man, get this. This nigga over here complaining about you and shit.” Y’all sipped y’all drinks at the same time without knowing and placed them on your coffee table with a quiet burp from both.“The fuck is my name in his mouth for, Y/N?!? He betta check his self before I break his fucking neck.” You giggled and added “he tryna put shit in my head.”

“Like what?”

Y’all bit into your sandwiches and you said “he tryna tell me you was checking me out when was all together for the game.” You grabbed the remote and switched the channel to ESPN to see the highlights. Erik stopped from biting into his sub and looked at you. “Why he say that?” You leaned back with your arms on the back of the couch and said “something about you looking at me like you tried to fuck or something when we was all hugged up apparently.” You laughed and then he thought to him self.

He was sitting on the couch of your boyfriend’s house with you and all y’all guys friends watching the cowboys game. You wore a baby blue body suit with the ice Jordans and he wore a matching shirt with tan cargo shorts and his matching Jordans y’all got together on Black Friday. The Cowboys were about to make a touch down as y’all stood up, cheering. When they did, you all hopped up with joy and you jumped in E’s arms. He pressed y’all chests together as you wrapped your arms around his neck and legs around his waist. You held him tight then you landed on your feet to chest bump him and do y’all handshake; Bryan watched from the kitchen. When you all calmed down, you sat next to each other with his arm around your neck and your head on his shoulder as y’all high fived.

After that, you noticed the pitcher of beer half empty and also the bowl of tortilla chips and guacamole. “Oh shit, we out”, you said as you looked to the table then the TV as there was a commercial going on. You smiled to Bryan and kissed his cheek before getting up gathering everything to fill up. You straightened out your body suit as you stood straight. You side walk passed Erik and he watched you with loving eyes. He grabbed your wrist and asked “can you get me a sprite from the fridge, little momma?” You smiled and said “of course, boo daddy.” You and your friends all laughed, except for Bryan, who didn’t get the inside joke. But that’s a story for another day. You kissed his forehead and he used the palm of his left hand to touch the small of your back; Bryan wasn’t very fond of that affection between you two.

Erik looked at you with your eyes on the TV and watched as you got up to take y’all plates in the kitchen to wash. “Can you believe that shit, E? Bryan tripping, right?” You was met with silence but when you turned around he was standing right behind you, extremely close. “Why you want this punk ass nigga anyways, Y/N? You not happy wit him so why not try us out?” He held you close by the hips as his dark brown eyes softened. “Erik, what are you talking about?”

“Lemme take you away from him, come on. You not dumb so why be with him, huh?” You looked away from him and as he tried to caress your cheek, you smacked at his hand and walked away. “Erik, where the fuck is this coming?” He walked behind you on your heels and pulled on the loop of your pants. “Y/N, why you with him, hm? He accuses you of cheating all the time when you are the most faithful personI know. He probably fucking some other bitch while you here wit me” he said. You looked up at him with your brows stitched together and arms folded. “Erik, I love him, aight? He was my first everything.” He stepped back and said “not your first everything... remember? When we were middle school and we played truth or dare with DJ and nem. He dared us to kiss. I remember what you wore and everything. You had on the peach Baby Phat crop top with those flared jeans and some Keds. You had your hair in those cornrows with your baby hairs on point because if they weren’t you would spend hours until they were. When we kissed, your lips tasted like Cherry smucker chapstick and they were so soft. I bet they still are. I still can’t get over those lips” as he grazed the bottom one with his right thumb. You were in a daze to the point you never noticed he got closer, inches away from your lips. You pushed him and spat “E, we only kissed because it was a fucking dare. YOU really think I would have done that if it wasn’t ?!?!?!?!? AND BESIDES YOU FUCK OTHER BITCHES ON THE SIDE SO HOW I KNOW YOU GONNA BE FAITHFUL, HUH?!?!”

“BRYAN CAN’T LOVE YOU LIKE I DO, Y/N!!!!! YOU KNOW THAT SHIT, GIRL!!! HE TREAT YOU LIKE YOU ARE SHIT! WHY CAN’T YOU SEE THAT?!?!?! DAMN I THOUGHT YOU WERE SMARTER THAN THIS!!!!” He yelled as he was in your face, nostrils flared and everything. You felt a tear run down your cheek but turned fast enough to wipe it off as you went to open the door looking at him. “I think you should leave, Erik”. He looked at you, at the ground then slowly lifted his head up to see you with folded arms. He walked up to you but you looked away trying your hardest to not look into those beautiful eyes. He stood in the doorway and wiped your cheek saying “Y/N, I can’t stand seeing you unhappy with a no shit ass nigga so we might always not be friends anymore. I’m sorry, baby girl but I can’t stand to see my girl being played like that.” When you looked up to him, he kissed your forehead and left. You stood speechless as you closed the door. You had tears down your face.

A week had passed and you were at Bryan’s, watching TV for Movie Night. You wore a black tee that smelt like Erik just to remember him by along with some booty shorts he bought you when you were at Venice Beach. Bryan held you close and kissed your cheek, asking “everything okay?” You nodded and remained silent until you both heard Mario’s Crying Out For Me coming from outside. “Who is that blasting that music” Bryan asked. You ignored it until you heard “Y/N Y/L/N.” You stood with an arched brow and opened the door to see Erik leaning on his car that had that song on full blast. He wore an all black sweat suit you bought him. “BABY GIRL, come on. Listen to your heart. It’s crying out for me, Y/N. Please, princess. I know I ain’t got the money like he do. I live check to check but I can give you so much more. I wanna give you the world. I swear you aren’t just another notch in my belt. You are my everything. I can’t see myself with anyone but you, Y/N. Please give me a chance and I’ll show you, I’m not some fuck nigga like Bryan. I am in love with you, Y/N. I always been. Let a real nigga have you. I wanna make you happy, baby please. Lemme save you”, he said with tears coming down as he walked slowly to the locked gate.

Bryan stood beside you trying to hold your hand but you looked at his hand in yours and yanked it away with your eyes still on Erik. “E” you yelled as you walked away from Bryan, towards him and he said “wassup” with that damn smirk you loved so much. You ran to the gate, opening it and jumping in his arms with your lips making love to one another. He held you so tight you two could’ve been conjoined twins. “Damn, softer than I remembered. I wonder what else is softer”, he said with a squeeze of your behind making you laugh and snort in shock. “Better than Ashley’s” you asked and he said “girl, waaaay better.” He lifted you up with your legs around his waist, hand full of your behind and tongue in your mouth. “Aye, Y/N...what about me” Bryan said and like clockwork without separating, you both lifted a hand up and flicked him off. When he slammed the door, you both laughed and he said “I love you, princess.” You tussled his locks and said “I love you more, my prince.”

𝟚𝟘𝟙𝟠

“And that is how mommy and daddy got together”,

you said as you sat between the twin sized beds of your own set of five year old twin prince and princess.

“And what happened next, momma”,

Erik the Second asked. You looked to his beautiful almond skin, dark eyes and a cut like his father’s but his dreads were really long.

“Well, my prince. Daddy was so in love with momma that he soon proposed like months later”.

Nyla smiled big with cocoa brown skin and said

“really?”

You nodded and said

“yeah. I was and will always be a queen.”

You heard

“mommy made daddy get on a knee and propose. The king didn’t have a choice as usual.”

You looked to Erik who long dreads were braided back and wore a pair of silk pajama pants with a white v-neck showing his scars. You tucked your twists behind your ears and said

“negro, don’t lie to my babies.”

“Man, Y/N. Look, kids. If the Queen ain’t happy, then nobody can be.” You nodded and said “true. Daddy knows better.” Nyla looked at her baba holding her stuffed black panther with a gold chain close and asked “do you love momma, baba?” He walked in with folded arms, sat on your prince’s bed and looked to you as he said “more than anything and anyone in this world.” You smiled and looked at Nyla with a wink when you sat on her bed. Soon, the kids, fell sound asleep as you two stood, tucking them in and showering their little faces with kisses. You and Erik held each other’s hands as y’all walked to your shared bedroom. “So, did the king make the queen happy today”, he asked with his arm around your shoulder. You looked up to him and said “eh, could have been better.”

“Oh yeah?” He stood in front of you and looked up and down at the outfit that matched with his but you had on silk shorts instead. You poked his chest and said “yeah.” You smiled big biting into your lip and in one swift motion, he picked you up and put you on his big, broad shoulder. “E, you betta not drop me.” He smacked your butt and said “Y/N, I ain’t no weak nigga but this pull out game is about to be hella weak because how you lookin’ in these shorts...sheesh. I hope the kids ready for another brother or sister.” You both laughed, you with a snort of course, as he took y’all to your master bedroom and closed the door that read:

“𝕬𝖑𝖑 𝕳𝖆𝖎𝖑 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝕶𝖎𝖓𝖌 𝖆𝖓𝖉 𝕼𝖚𝖊𝖊𝖓”.

@muse-of-mbaku @im5ftbutmythroat66 @chaneajoyyy @melanin-samii@theunsweetenedtruth @doux-ciel @unicornluvin8765 @vikkidc @wakandantings @thadelightfulone @mzamethystp @simbiann @tropicalsun10 @babydoll756 @notoriouslynay @vminax @quinsly @pinkdemolition @quietstorm-73 @chaoticcashfancroissant @bugngiz @chocolatedippedinhoney @yafavcocoa @lostgalaxies

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wolfbane37 · 6 years ago

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``Seriously guys, I tell you guys the other day that I'm playing for the other team and you drag me to the first gay club you guys see?'' Raph grumbles softly, a heavy blush powdering his cheeks as his brother, Mikey and his boyfriend, Leonardo, drag him to the front of the line of a gay dance club, the gentle thrum of the bass ringing in everyone's ears. Leo's brother, Donatello, had also joined him with his girlfriend April, they both chuckling at the hothead's embarrassment.

``Of course bro!! You gotta get a boyfriend'', Mikey grinned wide at him, pushing him inside.

``Relax, before you know it, you'll be getting laid by you're new boyfriend by midnight tonight'', Donnie commented as he gently tucks in Raph's white tank top into his pants to accentuate his muscular body, despite the inflexibility of his shell.

The hot head grumbles and stumbles inside, eyes widening at the sight of all the guys dancing and grinding together. Raph grumbles softly, blushing hard and goes over to the bar, shoving off the two sets of lovebird and getting himself a beer. Just then, the lights in the club and the music shifted dramatically, all the men dancing on the floor chatting excitedly as a stage brightens up.

``Alright gentlemen!! You know what time it is!! Lets give a warm welcome to the Sexy Beasts of the Night!'' the DJ announces over the intercom as three grown men, all half naked saunter onto stage, their silhouettes standing out from the light.

A steady beat of music starts to thrum into the air, as one of the guys steps forth, his hips swaying to the beat. Raph's eyes adjusted to the light and he saw that the man was a hybrid of a lizard and a turtle. The impressive combination of the two species giving him luscious green skin that encased practical muscles exceptionally. He was wearing soft blue jeans that were tight around his hips but left plenty of room for the imagination bellow the waste line. His v-muscles standing out with his abs because the fine line of scutes that lines his chest. His shell was small, barely noticeable on his back. His hands were hugged tight to some black, finger-less gloves, defining his four fingers nicely. The next thing to stand out was his long, yet slim tail that sway with hips. Finally, covered by a tight fedora, his head was lined nicely with raven, silk like hair that accented his crimson eyes.

Raph couldn't help but appreciate that his body was also generously covered in tattoos of various types, somehow accenting his muscle tone more. But what stood out more about this man was his voice, because as soon as he was well in front of the other two men that were with him, he started dancing in time with the music and singing.

``Its going down, I'm yelling timber,

You better move, You better dance.

Let's make tonight, You won't remember,

I'll be the one, You won't forget.''

The trio danced in time with one another, each putting one their own little show to all the surrounding men, their body's screaming energy and sex with every move. Raph had to swallow a very big lump in his throat as they started to join the crowd on the dance floor. The lead singer danced with grace but sexuality, grinding against his fellow dancers and some of the customers there that night as well.

Raph caught a heavenly fragrance, no doubt from the same lead singer. With just the inhale alone, Raph was fully aroused and so wanted to meet the male, unable to take his eyes off the moving muscles before him.

``You best not get your hopes up, boy. Luca rarely see's anyone that doesn't pique his interests, and that's coming from personal experience'', said the rabbit bartender behind him, having been watching the hot head get swooned off his feet from the performers.

``Luca.....'' Raph murmurs softly, not really paying attention to the bartender, too absorbed in the performance to really pay attention.

Almost as soon as that song ended, another began with the same sexual feeling to it, but not beating around the bush with the lyrics. Again, the lead singer takes the initiative to start the song.

``She got a body like an hour glass, But I can give it to you all the time,

She got a booty like a Cadillac, But I can send you into overdrive.

(You've been waiting for that......Step on up swing your bat)

See anybody could be bad to you, you need a good boy to blow your mind, yeah''

They danced in time with the lyrics, the lead singer turning to the bar this time, seeming to catch Raph's gaze for a moment. His eyes seemed to envelope Raph in a heated gaze, making Raph swallow visibly, actually kinda intimidated by the predatory look in the male's eyes. The singer snickers and saunters over to Raph, singing proudly.

``She might've let you hold her hand in school, But I'm a show you how to graduate,

No, I don't need to hear you talk the talk, Just come and show me what your momma gave yah~''

Luca pressed right up against Raph and seemed to give him a personal performance, the crowd whistling with delight at the sight, Leo and Mikey off to the side laughing loudly. Donnie and April couldn't help go all fangirls at the sight, hoping Raph gets the shot. Luca smirks wider, getting the look of cat having caught a mouse. He slides back slowly only after he shoves his fedora into Raph's face, the crowd shouting louder now, some excited and other sound somehow extremely jealous.

``Well, I'll be damned......Looks like Luca's interested......'' the bartender almost murmured to himself.

That seemed to snap Raph out of his trance of watching the young dancer to turn to the bartender.

``What does this mean?''

``Means you stick around tonight and you can talk to young Luca'', the bartender chuckles at Raph while sliding him another beer. ``On the house, you're gonna need it.''

Raph's eyes widen and he grins wide at the thought of talking to Luca. He hums softly to himself, taking a slow inhale of the fedora, finding the natural musk of the young male along with faint scents of peppermint and cinnamon. Raph chuckles and slides the hat on just as he was swamped with his friends.

Raph smirked up at the dancers as they continued their performance, Luca keeping eye contact with Raph through the entire thing. Finally, the last song plays out and the dancers end right in the middle of a giant swarm. All the men in the entire joint was squishing against the dancers to hug, touch and pay the dancers for the performances by shoving money in all the places they could reach, in Luca's case was his waist band. More than once, a hand lingered too long or to close to his more intimate spots, making him flush and start to leave to get out of the seeking hands back stage followed by his back up singers and dancers.

Snorting his amusement, Raph orders another drink and waits patiently for the lead dancer to return on his own.

About thirty minutes later, after sending his friends home on their own so he could have some alone time with the young dancer, Raph was drinking the foam slowly off his cold beer when he felt a warm body press against his back, leaning over him to talk to the bartender.

``Hey barkeep!! Four shots of tequila for me and my friend here!'' a smooth voice shouted, the scent of cinnamon catching in Raph's nostrils.

Looking over his shoulder, Raph came face to face with the charming young singer, having a small scent of soap, his hair still damp from obvious signs of a shower. He wore a dark red t-shirt and similar jeans as before and now he held a small toothpick between his lips, looking slightly chewed on. Luca catches his eyes with a charming entrancement and sits right beside him as the bartender sets out the four shots between the two.

``So handsome, whats a place like you doing in a stud like this?'' he says softly, gazing fondly at Raph with a slightly predatory gaze.

Raph couldn't help but snort at the poor pick up line, setting his empty glass aside to grab a lime and a shot. ``My friends insisted I see some action on my second day out of the closet.''

``Wha? First day out as a gay man? Dear lord, the pressure is on then for good impressions. I guess the bad pick up line was not a good idea'', the young male's flushed up in embarrassment as he mimicked Raph's action and grabbing a lime and a shot for himself. In unison, they drink the shot and limes together, both cringing at the burn and sourness, laughing happily.

``That's ok. Cheesy pick up line help make this more relaxing. I'm glad to find that I'm someone's taste anyhow. I'm not sure how many people are actually into mutant turtles'', Raph joked as he work the second shot down, grinning softly.

``Probably the same amount that think a salamander/turtle hybrid is sexy and easy to play with'', Luca joked back, downing his last shot easily, nudging Raph playfully.

``Sounds rough.''

``You have no idea. Anyhow, where are your friends? I wanna thank whoever brought in the eye candy.'' Luca turned and looked through the crowd to see anyone that would know Raph.

``Don't bother, they left a few minutes ago under my request to let me relax and actually enjoy being hit on by other men'', the hot head chuckles and moved to order a new drink.

``So your alone now?! Oh hell no, barkeep! A bottle of Fireball Whiskey, a bottle of Bailey's caramel and two shot glasses please!!'' Luca slaps a couple of $20's on the counter to pay and tip the bartender as he pulls out the bottles. Snatching up the bottles, Luca motions Raph to follow him. Raph shrugs and grabs the shot glasses and follows Luca through the crowd to a guarded door.

``Hey Darling, can I just......?'' Luca sets a bottle to the side and slowly takes the tie off one of the body guards, grinning wide when the guard's cheek get a powder color on his cheeks but his expression remains neutral as he opens the door for Luca. ``Thanks Doll!! Common...'' Luca giggles giddily and drags Raph into the back, Raph blushing at how Luca looks from behind.

They slowly approach a door that was open slightly. Pushing in the hot head, Luca slides the tie on the doorknob and follows Raph in, shutting and locking the door. Turning in, the singer sets the bottles down and takes the shot glasses.

``To have a perfect evening here, you have to have my absolute favorite and the public special French Toast shot. One part Fireball and one part Bailey's......'' he murmurs softly as he pours the drinks, his tail flicking from side to side as he focuses before he turns and offers Raph the shot.

Studying the creamy liquid skeptically, Raph glanced at Luca curiously to see him down his shot with complete ease. Shrugging, Raph down's his as well. Eyes widen in shock as the burn in his throat his cooled by cream, the combination tasting exactly like liquid french toast with the burn of alcohol.

``What the shell??!! That was french toast!!''

``I told you!'' Luca laughed at his reaction and turned to make two more shots before handing him his glass again, the singer's cheeks flushing slightly from the alcohol. Together, they downed more and more of the liquid breakfast treat before Luca was laughing his ass off and Raph was chuckling humorously, only mildly drunk when the singer was slammed drunk.

``C-can I tell you......*snort* that I've never d-drunk with `nother person from here `fore? *hic* Like, I've drank here `fore but I've never go'en this drunk `fore'', Luca giggled as he sloshed his drink against Raph after tipping over and landing on his side, laughing loudly at the spill.

``And why is that? Don't hang out with that many people?'' Raph chuckled as he helps Luca sit on the couch properly, ignoring the spill on his tank for now.

``I don't like people......people are so clingy and needy....They don't ask what Luca wants....I feel safe with you, even though I just met you'' the singer snorted and leaned against Raph as his words slurred. ``You smell really good~''

Flushing at the compliment, Raph scratched at his cheek sheepishly and smiles at the small lizard. ``You smell good too. Like cinnamon.''

``That's because of these.''

Sluggishly, Luca fished through his pants and pulled out a small box containing toothpicks. The label said tea tree therapy toothpicks, cinnamon flavored.

``Trying to quick smoking.....'', the drunk slurred tiredly, glaring at the picks before pulling one out and slips it between his soft lips, the strong scent of cinnamon radiating off the pick and his breath into Raph nose.

``That might be a good idea'', the hot head chuckled softly, blushing hard at the smell. Shivering slightly, he starts to pull away, noticing that Luca was starting to doze.

``Where are you goin'?''

``I'm calling it a night. You are very drunk and should sleep it off'', Raph chuckled softly at the drunk that tried to stay awake.

``W-wait.....'' Luca groaned and rolled off the couch, falling onto the floor with a grunt. He slowly starts to get up, groaning weakly as he crawls over to a desk, giving a Raph a great view of his ass and muscled thighs. Reaching onto the desk blindly, Luca feels around before wrapping his fingers around a sharpie and slowly stands up, shakily walking over to Raph.

Swallowing thickly, Luca grabs Raph's arm and yanks it towards him, scribbling on his hand in barely legible handwriting his name and number. ``I have two more shows this *hic* week, and then I'm free for the weekend. Call me, Raphael.''

Eyes wide at what just happened, all Raph could do was nod, watching as Luca grins a dopey drunk smile before collapsing on the couch, the marker falling out of his grasp and rolling uselessly onto the floor. Shaking his head at the graceless fall, the hot head stands and adjust the sleeping hybrid into a more comfortable position, throwing a blanket over his back and slides a pillow under his head. Snatching up the marker, Raph decides to write his name and number onto Luca's hand as well to help him remember the night before slipping out the door and flicking off the light.

Chuckling to himself, Raph slowly saunters out of the dance studio, humming one of the tunes that Luca sang earlier that evening......

``.......Let's make tonight you won't remember........I'll be the one you won't forget......''

XXXX

This is part of a series I've written with more stunning art work. Let me know what you guys think and I'll post more here. Also, the art is by @yukarishii

#tmnt raphael #tmnt mikey #tmnt donatello #tmnt 2003 #tmnt #tmnt leonardo #tmnt april #occharacter #singer&thebeast

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mickeyanders-blog · 7 years ago

Text

DANCIN IN THE STREET | MIMES

WHO: Mickey Anderson & James St. James WHAT: Mickey and James go to Scandals. WHERE: Scandals & Anderson Home. WHEN: Sunday May 14th. (Completed) WARNINGS: None!

Mickey-Last Sunday at 10:22 PM

Mickey had to admit they were more than a little surprised to see that James was going to come to Scandals. Usually people tried to avoid the place like the plague but Michael enjoyed staying with the other misfits. It seemed as though James was having a shitty night as well, and they were hoping somehow they would cheer each other up. They only had about two sips of their margarita when they spotted the boy with the bright blue hair. "Hey!" Mickey sang with a big grin, quickly pulling him in before the security at the door could really question him about his age. "Wow, you must really be feeling shit if you came all the way here." they joked with a big smile as they pushed their long curls back from their face. "C'mon let's get you something to drink we've got thirty minutes to get trashed before karaoke."

James-Last Sunday at 10:46 PM

James walked in, not wearing his usual smile but a melancholy frown instead. "I do feel shitty, but that's neither here or there. I'm here to forget about that." He didn't have a fake ID or anything, but somehow got in. Maybe the shadows of his curls made him look older. Or perhaps it was his expression. Did they even try to card him? "Yeah, what's good?"

Mickey-Last Sunday at 10:52 PM

Mickey, always being the overly touchy type took his hand in theirs and lead him to the bar, squeezing at his hand. "Mm, I have a strawberry frozen margarita. Which is nice because I am...smol and I can't drink a lot." they said honestly, finally letting go of him as they climbed onto the seat with a hum. "I didn't realize how tall you were. Everyone makes me feel like a shrimp though. My only solace is that I'm taller than Daniel Radcliffe." they shrugged, taking another sip of their drink, mostly so they would shut up for once.

James-Last Sunday at 10:57 PM

"I don't mind small guys. As far as I know, my family has always been full of tall people. My mom's six feet tall, so." He shrugged and ordered a strawberry margarita, figuring that it may be better for him. "Daniel Radcliffe is cute, so there's that." He grabbed his drink as soon as it was slid to him. They really didn't card here, did they? Taking a sip, he was taken aback by the taste of alcohol before the sweetness of the strawberry mixture took over. He downed it quickly.

Mickey-Last Sunday at 11:01 PM

"Well I'm glad you don't mind me." Mickey teased with a waggle of their eyebrows. "That's really cool though. Everyone in my family is pretty short. My oldest brother is the tallest but even he's not that big. I'm the tiniest though, I think it's because I drink a lot of caffeine and I've smoked the occassional cigarette." they explained with a shrug as they drank their own, almost snorting at how he chugged it. "Liked it, huh?" they asked with a cheesy smile before ordering another for each of them. "I got this by the way." they smiled. "So do you wanna talk about anything or just purposefully ignore it all because I am up for either."

James-Last Sunday at 11:14 PM

"Maybe. Genetics are a bit weird. Yeah, I don't mind you. It's hard to find a guy much taller unless we're going for someone really tall." He chuckled, watching as they ordered another drink. He was going to need it to forget the week and now the weekend. "I generally take good care of myself, usually. Today is an exception. Yeah, I like it." His eyes meet Mickey's for a moment before he shook his head. "Too much drama. I'd rather have a night to forget."

Mickey-Last Sunday at 11:21 PM

Mickey hummed as James said he didn't want to talk about it. They watched James' blue eyes for a long moment, reaching out to gently push back some of his hair. "Agreed. A night to forget sounds amazing, right?" they asked before pulling away. "God sorry? I'm so touchy. Big Italian family that's sort of all we do." they smiled as they swirled their drink some. "Anyway, I think....we should sing dancing in the streets. We've got Jagger, we've got Bowie. I could find trench coats if you want." they teased.

James-Last Sunday at 11:26 PM

"It does. I just want to let go just one time." He chuckled before downing the other drink just as quickly, noticing how the other sipped. "Don't worry about being touchy. I'm usually pretty affectionate once I get to know someone." James rested his elbow against the bar as he watched carefully. He perked up at the mention of Dancing In The Streets. "Let's do it. Let's break out those 80s dad moves."(edited)

Mickey-Last Sunday at 11:38 PM

Mickey nodded at him. "Just once." they agreed with a soft smile, as they moved to sit criss cross on the stool though it was actually quite uncomfortable. "Well hopefully we'll get to know one another, then. I mean I'm really looking forward to becoming your dog's best friend." Michael chuckled, offering a big smile. They swore they could see his whole face light up. "Fuck yeah. I'm glad you said yes because I already signed us up." they giggled excitedly. "I think we have ten minutes left though." they chuckled taking a minute to finish their drink.

James-Last Sunday at 11:43 PM

James watched yet again and opted for water once the bartender came back around. He didn't want to ruin his vocal chords for karaoke. Of course, he wasn't sure how everything worked with alcohol. This was his first time drinking, let alone being at the club. "Luna is everyone's best friend. She'll love you, I promise." He smiled at just seeing their smile. It was a cute smile, and now his mind was wandering. "Oh, good. I'm glad I wasn't drafted or anything." He teased, sipping at the water.

Mickey-Last Sunday at 11:55 PM

Mickey chuckled at him, nodding quickly. "Aw, I love it. I hope Nico likes you too. She's really nice but you know. She's a lady, and sometimes she's iffy about guys." they laughed and shrugged. "Your smile is cute." they complimented next, the alcohol causing them to feel a little more than flustered. With most people they'd be more blunt, or be focusing on trying to get into his pants, but this was different. They both needed comfort and companionship, and that's what they were focusing on. "Oh my God, shut up." they joked with a laugh before finally they got up, their curls bouncing all over as they did so. "Alright giant, you have to help me push through the bears to get to the stage." they winked.

James-Last Sunday at 11:59 PM

"If it helps, I wasn't born a guy." James blurted out a bit earlier than he normally would have, and hoped Mickey was too distracted by the surroundings to even catch it. "Thanks, so is yours." He bit the inside of his bottom lip. He knew this was a side effect of the alcohol. James was a lot more guarded than this usually. His face was read from the compliment and watching as they got up and winked. "That, I can do." He got up with a smile and put his arm around his new friend's shoulders.May 14, 2018

Mickey-Yesterday at 12:03 AM

"Oh shit really?" Mickey asked with a big smile. They reached out to poke at his cheek. "You pass amazingly. Really you do. Jesus, I wish I knew there was someone else trans at the school before." they chuckled before grinning again. "Don't be flirting now." they hummed, teasing him as they got up from the seats. They happily followed besides him as they made their way up to the stage. Mickey happily greeted the DJ with a kiss on the cheeks. "I come and sing all the time even though I'm tone deaf." they chirped to James with a big smile, hanging over one of the shitty microphones to him. "Sorry in advance for your ears." they teased with their tongue out.

James-Yesterday at 12:07 AM

"I went to Carmel up until this year, so it's probably that.. and the fact that you never come to school. I kind of helps that I kind of looked like Jesse a little beforehand, probably. Also, I've been on T since the ripe old age of thirteen." He explained as they made their way to the stage and took the microphone. "I don't exactly care that you're tone deaf. Honestly, that's refreshing. I spend my days around people who can sing." He teased back.

Mickey-Yesterday at 12:11 AM

"Ah yeah that does actually make sense." Mickey laughed again. They couldn't help they were a giddy drunk. "Thirteen? Wow, your mom must be really supportive, that's awesome. I've...I've definitely thought about estrogen but man I dunno. I'm not a girl, but I'm not a boy it's just tough." they chuckled. "You do look like Jesse though. Cuter though. For sure." they reminded him, patting gently at his forearm. "Well, I'm gonna make you feel really good tonight then, St. James." they said with a waggle of their brows before they nodded for the music to start, smiling hugely back to James as it began.

James-Yesterday at 12:21 AM

"Mom was really supportive. She still is. So is Jesse. He's been my biggest supporter with the transition, I must say. Twins know best. There's nothing wrong with estrogen if you want it, but it's a bitch. I know from experience." he laughed and shrugged. "Why do you think I'm cuter? Is it the blue hair? The fact that I'm gay? Go ahead, make me feel good. It'll be nice to know I won't be pitchy." Another laugh as he waited through the into and the song began.

Mickey-Yesterday at 12:27 AM

"Aw that's super awesome. B has always been pretty supportive parents not so much, but I'm strong." They shrugged with a big smile. "Yeah? Yeah. I'm sure it really is." they laughed in returned. "Mm, I dunno. You volunteer at the SPCA, your hair is very nice, and you just seem....softer in your mannerisms and personality." they explained. "Plus we talked about Rammstein." they added, bumping their hip against his. Now, Mickey may not have been a performer besides cheerleading, but they took karaoke very seriously. And though they weren't the best at staying on pitch, Mickey was happy enough to be on beat as they began.

James-Yesterday at 12:46 AM

He listened closely, nodding every now and again to let Mickey knew he was listening. It felt nice to be complimented and be called cute, even if he doubted that he would ever be cute in his own mind. James had never done karaoke before, but he knew from watching that he would need to watch the screen and stay on beat, which was something he easily did throughout the song while trying to do his best Bowie moves from the video.

Mickey-Yesterday at 12:49 AM

Mickey only faltered to sing their part as they noticed James' dancing. They happily joined in, dancing as stupidly as possible. Until finally the song ended. Two out of the three patrons clapped and for Mickey that was enough. They smirked and handed over the microphone. "You're really good." they sang, leaning onto their toes just so that he could hear them over the club's music that started again. "Wanna show me some more of those moves?" they asked, meeting his blue eyes again as they stayed leaning up close. They even debated trying to kiss him for a moment but thankfully talked themself out of it.

James-Yesterday at 1:00 AM

The applause wasn't what James was usually used to, but he then reminded himself that he wasn't performing with Vocal Adrenaline, or even New Directions for that matter. He was in a nightclub on a Sunday night. He admired Mickey's enthusiasm as he followed suite and handed over his own microphone. "Am I?" James laughed. "Why not? I'm sure you're dying to see more of my sick 80s dad dance moves."(edited)

Mickey-Yesterday at 1:06 AM

"You are really good! Stop questioning my compliments you buttface." Mickey snorted, sticking their tongue out at him again as they climbed back off of the stage, already debating singing again. "Fuck yeah I am! You still have to see mine." they giggled again. Feeling playful they began dancing. While they could actually dance, they instead decided to break out some of their painfully bad moves, enjoying just playing around and having fun with James for the moment.

James-Yesterday at 1:10 AM

"I'll question all compliments until they are proven." James teased as he started to dance with the Anderson twin. "Not bad. We really are Bowie and Jagger with out sick 80s dad moves." He joked, giggling loudly. James could dance as well. After all, he had to have some sort of talent given his background; but he chose to pull out some equally bad dance moves on his own. All he wanted to do was have fun tonight. He seemed to be accomplishing his goal.(edited)

Mickey-Yesterday at 1:20 AM

Mickey swore they could feel everything slow down as the pair took their turns showing off the worst moves they could, but as the music slowed a little they laughed and instead moved in closer, not even leaving a second for the awkwardness to come over them. "sorry this is just happening now." they shrugged, smirking as they drunkenly tossed their arms around his neck. "i'll never understand why gay bars decide to play soft songs." they smiled as they danced against him. "Guess this is better than me trying to grind on you though, right?" they asked, hoping he'd wrap his arms around them too. "So....what's your favorite movie?"

James-Yesterday at 1:31 AM

"No worries. It's just a slow song. It always happens. Probably to give the party boys a bit of a break, or allow the couples an intimate moment or something. I'll never understand social cues. Well, I've.. never been grinded on, so I don't know what would be better or worse. But I like this." He chuckled and gently wrapped his arms around their waist. This was the way to do a slow dance, right? At the question, there was no hesitation. James gave Mickey a big smile. "The Man Who Fell To Earth and Labyrinth. I can't decide which one I like more."

Mickey-Yesterday at 1:34 AM

"Well since we are King and Queen I guess it's alright." Mickey joked with a big smile, as they easily moved with him. They had a few slow dances but they had to admit this was the least awkward of them all. Sure that wasn't saying a lot but they were more than comfortable spinning some with him. "I like this too. We'll see if you like grinding after." they chuckled. They found themself instinctually snuggling up some when the arms wrapped around their waist. "Oh, I loved Bowie's hair in Man Who Fell. Never seen it but I remember the orange." they chuckled, tilting their head up to watch him. "I've never seen Labyrinth either. Sad, I know. I was always freaked out by puppets when I was younger though."(edited)

James-Yesterday at 1:43 AM

"We're also Heroes. Just for one day." James returned the smile and continued to sway. He couldn't help to laugh at the second mention of grinding and slid one of his hands up to their back while feeling himself being snuggled up to. One arm stayed around their waist. He wanted Mickey to feel safe. That was his instinct. "I had my hair that color once. I've been debating going back to it for a while, but I like the blue." He shrugged. "We can get out of here and watch one of them if you want. Though, admittedly, Labyrinth is easier to find online. I'm not really wanting to go home and get my copy of it."

Mickey-Yesterday at 1:48 AM

Mickey found themself humming as James' hand moved up their back. It was a far cry from being felt up on the dancefloor, but Michael definitely liked it a lot more. "I like the blue too. But I think you could pull off just about anything." they shrugged. "I had blonde hair for a while, which was pretty cool, but I guess I didn't like looking so different from Blaine." they laughed. At the offer of getting out of their they raised a brow before quickly nodding. "Uh, yeah. Yes. Yeah I'd totally love that." they agreed with a nod, thanking god the lights of the bar were covering how much the question made them blush. "But don't make fun of me if anything freaks me out." they chuckled, gently letting their arms fall from his neck, being sure to rub down his arms on the way. "We can go to mine." they hummed. Though they never ever really went home themself, they figured it'd be easy enough to sneak into the basement for the movie room.

James-Yesterday at 10:53 AM

"I've pulled off at least four colors this year. Blue is my favorite so far because how it fades. Some of the blue dyes fade and look pretty cool." He chuckled and nodded. "I was like that for a while. I just had to look identical to Jesse, no matter what. Then, I reinvented myself, and dyed my hair. I can always go back to brown at any time, and I'll always have a similar face." James explained as he gently took their hands after feeling them run down his arms. "Okay, good. I know my brother told me he had plans and not to come home."

Mickey-Yesterday at 12:39 PM

"I really like the blue on you too. You're seriously giving me some inspo. I bet I could pull off hot pink. That'd be cool." they laughed, the big smile still present on their face. Feeling drunk they happily they leaned into him, squeezing at his hands once he took them. "Yeah, that's true. I dunno. B and I are weird. I mean last year was probably the first time I spent time away from him." they started before shaking their head. "Sorry. Weird twin stuff, you get it." they smiled, changing the subject as they finally pulled away to lead him towards the door, keeping right by his side. "Yeah you can even sleep over if you want. Not to be weird or anything, just because it's already one AM." they shrugged. "And I mean, I can't judge you for anything as long you don't judge me for my moomoo because I for sure wear a moomoo to bed." they waggled their brows again.

James-Yesterday at 1:01 PM

"I think you could pull off hot pink. You should honestly try it some time, even if it's just a few streaks here and there. I hear you loud and clear on that weird twin stuff. Jesse and I are in each other's heads more than we like to admit." He followed closely so he didn't get lost in the club. "Okay. That's awesome. I don't think anyone would appreciate me showing up at one in the morning banging on the door because I forgot my key." He motioned toward his vespa with a grin. "Just let me know where you live, okay? I am horrible with directions."

Mickey-Yesterday at 1:14 PM

"I probably could. I'll show you pictures of the blonde later. Maybe I'll do it. You could convince me." They laughed and nodded quickly. "Right? It's fucking weird. We fought today so it was great. I guess I needed the good time too." they shrugged, smiling up at him. " But we're gonna go watch Labryinth and not think about how weird today was and it's gonna be great." they winked before stopping short as they saw the vespa. "Oh God you were serious." they giggled, bumping their forehead against his arm. "Should you be drinking and driving your scooter, St. James?" they asked, smiling cheekily up at him. "Alright let's go, we're on Pine St."

James-Yesterday at 2:29 PM

"I have to see photos of the blonde or it didn't happen. Yeah, let's not think about the blgeneral weirdness of today. Or even this entire week." He looked over at Mickey. "Oh come on, Anderson. You didn't think I was going to bring Jesse's car to this place, did you? Yeah, I'm fine to drive it. Promise." James winked and got on the scooter, handing the helmet to them.

Mickey-Yesterday at 2:33 PM

Mickey had to giggle as they watched him get on the vespa. "If I die....this is gonna be hilarious." they smirked as they carefully climbed onto the back, glad their shorts didn't ride up too much as they climbed on behind him, and pulled on the helmet, letting out a laugh again. "Alright, let's get going." they smirked, as they wrapped their arms tightly around his middle, holding on tight as he started it up. \

James-Yesterday at 3:31 PM

"If we're about to die, I'm going to shout about this being Jackass, and you can't stop me." James grinned as he felt Mickey's arms tightly around him. He took off as soon as he was told to get going. The drive wasn't too long, and soon they we at the Anderson house, where he parked and shut off the scooter. He took his helmet off and looked over his shoulder at Mickey. "Is this the right place?"

Mickey-Yesterday at 4:28 PM

"I will accept that. But I'm Johnny Knoxville." Mickey chuckled as they held on. Honestly they were pretty surprised at how fast it went. Considering Mickey usually walked to Scandals, it went by pretty quick before they were peeling off their helmet as well. "Yeah, this is it." they smiled to him. "I think riding home from Scandals with you on this vespa was possibly the gayest thing I've done in my life. I'm glad you were part of it." they teased him as they carefully climbed off, stumbling only a little bit. "Oh thank God no parents are home." they cheered as they climbed up the stairs to the front porch, getting out their keys. "Uh we have wine coolers, or capri suns, and I could grab cookies." they rambled, trying to whisper as they finally pushed their way into the house.

James-Yesterday at 5:32 PM

"Of course it's the gayest thing you've ever done. We're the king and queen." He laughed and carefully climbed off of the scooter. "That's good, at least I think." Another chuckle as he grabbed his bag and followed them to the front porch. "Okay, I don't even know what wine coolers are, but cookies sound great." James kept his voice to a whisper as he followed. "Just point me in the direction of the basement, and I will get set up."

Mickey-Yesterday at 5:39 PM

Mickey chuckled and moved to the door of the basement, opening it for James, and turning on the lights for him. “I’m actually gonna get changed too, do you need me to bring you pajamas? Uh... I’m sure I have something that’ll fit you, I promise.” they asked as they gently leaned against the door. “And then I’ll grab the rest of the stuff and... yeah i’ll be right down.” they offered, unable to stop how flustered and flushed they felt as they watched him.

James-Yesterday at 5:43 PM

"I'm probably going to need pajamas, thanks." James smiled at him and headed down into the basement, thanking his sober self for bringing his external hard drive so that he didn't have to try and fumble with finding the movie on the internet. "Okay. I'll be right here getting the movie ready." He had already plugged the hard drive in and was working with the television. "I'll warn you, though. I have a tendency to sing through this movie."

Mickey-Yesterday at 5:48 PM

Mickey laughed and shook their head at him as they headed upstairs. They spent a little too long deciding what pajamas to wear, before deciding on an oversized shirt, and some booty shorts, before they next moved to raid coopers room for pajamas. Finally they grabbed the six pack of wine coolers and as much food as they could fit in their hands before making their way down the stairs, the v-neck already hanging off their shoulder. “I am very excited to see you sing through this.” they slurred some as they carefully set everything down, and held out the PJs. “Oh so, there’s a bathroom over there, but you know, I’d be happy to watch you strip as well, your choice.” they shrugged with a grin as they flopped back on the comfy couch already opening another drink.

James-Yesterday at 6:03 PM

"Are you now? I think the alcohol messed with my voice, but I'll try my best." James smiled as he picked up his pajamas. "Not yet. I'm a little self conscious. No one has ever seen me change." He laughed as he made his way to the bathroom. It wasn't long until he came back out and put the clothes he wore to the club back into his bag. He made his way over to the couch and sat, giving Mickey a smile and pushing play.

Mickey-Yesterday at 6:11 PM

"Pft, you're fine. Maybe a lil scratchy, but who isn't?" Mickey teased with a big smile, as they sipped the drink, nodding as he responded. "I was just teasing you. Take your time get comfy I will be right here waiting." they chirped with a big smile. They understood, really they did. As confident a person as Mickey was, they really could only change in front of someone they'd slept with or girls. To them there was something more intimate in changing than most of the sex they'd had. They smiled back as he came out, distracting them from their thoughts. "I'm glad they fit, I think you're even taller than my older brother." they chuckled, moving to rest their cheek on his shoulder as the movie started.

James-Yesterday at 6:48 PM

"I love your short family, though. You and Blaine are the cutest." He teased and reached for one of the drinks and a cookie. Were these cookies vegan? Honestly, James was so hungry and drunk that he didn't really care. He opened up the wine cooler and shifted in his seat, trying to make sure he was comfortable in his binder. A grin appeared on his face while they lay his head on his shoulder and softly started to sing along with the opening song.

Mickey-Yesterday at 7:17 PM

"Excuse me, I am the cutest." Mickey teased as they watched him for a moment, while they curled up. They had to admit the puppets were still pretty terrifying. "Wow Bowie looks good. His dick must be huge." They giggled drunkenly. Soon the one wine cooler turned into three and they were all cuddled up to him. They did their best not to talk through the whole thing. Which turned out to be pretty easy since they ended up focusing a lot more on James than the movie. "This is really good." they whispered as the ball scene began, their fingers reaching up again to stroke at his cheek gently.

James-Yesterday at 9:14 PM

James laughed and nodded. "According to a biography I read, he actually was pretty sizable." His wine coolers turned from one to three as well, and he found himself with his arms completely around them. He looked down with a soft grin when he was told the movie was good. "I'm glad you like it. I was worried for a moment."

Mickey-Yesterday at 9:17 PM

"No, no need to be worried." They giggled, glancing back to the screen quickly. "Who couldn't like Bowie?" they asked, looking back to him. A softer smile came over their lips as the music started, their eyes locking with his for a moment. Feeling a sudden burst of confidence, or perhaps the whisper of Bowies past to just do it, they let their eyes fall shut and leaned in to kiss his lips. Their hand stayed splayed over James' cheek, mostly to hold him close as they dragged out the initial peck.

James-Yesterday at 10:05 PM

"I don't think I could be with anyone who didn't at least respect Bowie." James smiled and watched him. His eyes closed when he was kissed. Part of him wanted to pull away and go home, but mostly, he wanted to stay. He put his hand over theirs and gently kissed them in return.(edited)

Mickey-Yesterday at 10:15 PM

Mickey hummed softly when they felt James returning the kiss. They playfully sucked at his lower lip before puling back and bumping their nose against his. “I’m sorry, was that weird? I just.... I dunno I felt like I had to.” they chuckled nervously

James-Yesterday at 11:03 PM

James breathed out a moment and shook his head. "No, that wasn't weird. That was actually pretty nice. Was it Bowie?" He asked with a playful grin.

Mickey-Yesterday at 11:08 PM

Mickey grinned when he agreed it wasn't weird. "Pretty nice? Do me a favor and add that to my yelp?" they laughed before nodding. "Yeah sorry I just...needed to make out with Bowie and you're the closest thing." they hummed again, giving him a few more quick kisses. "Sorry your lips are really nice." they murmured, pressing a kiss to his cheek next before they sat back completely, their tan cheeks a bright red. "You... you can kiss me whenever, just so you know." they chirped.

James-Yesterday at 11:52 PM

"I will once I'm sober enough to open the app." He teased. "No, it's okay. I'm honored to be the closest thing to Bowie. When I met Rachel, I was actually singing Life On Mars? in a full Bowie getup." James spoke softly, running a thumb over Mickey's cheek before leaning in and kissing them again.May 15, 2018

Mickey-Today at 12:28 AM

Mickey laughed at the thought of James all dressed up. "That's cute. Then I'd be trying to sit on your face though, so it's probably for the best you look like this." they giggled, before smiling as he took his turn leaning in. Feeling playful they parted their lips, instead giving him open mouthed kisses as they scooted a little closer to his side of the couch while the song continued in the background. If it were up to them, they'd want to spend the rest of the morning just like this.

James-Today at 12:45 AM

"Maybe it is, I guess. That would have been one hell of a first impression, though." James laughed and shook his head. He was a bit surprised when they parted their lips, but went along with it. After a bit, James decided to pull back as he was feeling himself get sleepy. With a small yawn, he wrapped both arms around them once more.

Mickey-Today at 12:56 AM

Mickey hummed when James finally pulled away but instead wrapped them up. Their head easily lulled back to his shoulder, while their hands blindly pulled a throw blanket from the back of the couch, tossing it over the pair. "Are you comfy here? If not we could find a bed." they murmured, already sounding half asleep as they grew increasingly comfortable against the other's side. "Mm, or I could leave you alone, you must wanna take off your binder." they murmured. They weren't going to bring it up, but they felt bad after accidentally touching it a few times curing the movie.

James-Today at 1:35 AM

"I'm perfectly fine here." James ran his hand along Mickey's back gently and slowly. "You don't have to leave me here unless you want to go to your bed. I'm not going to get mad if you do. I understand." He smiled, eyes starting to close just a little. "I've been in this thing longer. It's not ideal, but I can manage. Don't worry about me. I'll be fine."

Mickey-Today at 1:51 AM

Mickey hummed happily as they felt the hand rubbing at their back. "No, no. I'm more comfy here. You're comfy and you smell good." they mumbled already sounding half asleep. Without thinking twice about it they rested their head on his flattened chest, smiling at the sound of his heart beat. "Okay just take care of yourself." they added tiredly as they wrapped their arms around him as well. "I'm tiny so just move me however you need to to be comfy." the laughed with their eyes closed.

James-Today at 2:00 AM

"Okay. As long as you're sure." James shifted just a little so that his legs were comfortable. "I will. I promise." His voice was strained with fatigue while he brought a hand up to run his fingers through their curls.

Mickey-Today at 2:02 AM

Mickey pressed a sweet kiss to James' wrist before they finally allowed themself to fall asleep, half laying on top of James, but they were more than comfortable there with him. They happily fell asleep as Labyrinth finished quietly in the background.

#para #001 #d:james

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ancientbooshartifacts · 5 years ago

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One Night at the Onion

Author: ThirstyRobot

Year: 2010

Rating: R

Pairing: Vince Noir/Ned Smanks

"Vince Noir, right?" Ned's not actually sure. Up close he looks older, and his head being normal-sized isn't helping anything either, and it might just be that Jones bloke that came by the office to get Ashcroft's stuff. "Yeah?" Vince only glances up for a second and then goes back to stirring the straw around in his drink. "I saw you at that Black Tubes gig, yeah? Juarez fucking Mexico, mate. How the fuck did you do that thing with your head? Well lost." Now Vince looks up properly. He seems to consider Ned for a moment and then smiles this smile that makes him look like he's just come up with something wicked. "Can't have everyone going round doing it, can I?" "Right, yeah. Like copyright or something?" "Yeah, something." Vince pours the rest of his drink down his throat and jerks his head towards the front of the club, where the DJ (in a gorilla suit, no fucking less) is coming back from his set break. "You dance?" "Is that back in?" Vince laughs. "What, dancing?" "The straight-on-straight gay thing." Ned sort of hopes it is. It may be all the vodka, but Vince is really pretty when he laughs. "Sounds like a load of bollocks to me. Anyway," he says, and stumbles off the stool to wrap an arm round Ned's waist, "I'm always in." This is the guy who defied maths and shit last week, with a stunt not even Nathan Barley's been able to duplicate, so Ned's inclined to believe him. Also, his hair smells really good. "Yeah, you're well in," Ned says, but it's swallowed up by a pounding thrum of techno-bhangra and they're swallowed up by the dance floor. Vince dances like he's having the best fuck of his life, pretty much. Ned would never dance like this. It doesn't look ironic, but maybe that's why it's cool. And it clearly is cool--he can see girls snapping photos on their mobiles and fanning their faces. So yeah, fuck it. He holds onto Vince's grinding hips (narrower and thinner than Rufus's, not that he ever danced with Rufus) and grinds right back and lets himself like the way Vince's fringe plasters itself to his forehead when he starts to work up a sweat (strawberries and sweets, not Lynx and the-fuckin'-shower's-fucked-again-yeah, but the rasp of cheek stubble against his neck when Vince writhes closer is the same). A man in a horrible blue safari suit comes and brings them drinks, so they don't even have to pause for trips to the bar. Ned's glasses slip down his nose, which makes Vince cackle and whisper-shout hot and damp against his ear that he looks like a drunk librarian. "I've always wanted to do a librarian," Ned answers back just for an excuse to say something, strands of strawberry-sweat hair clinging to his lips. "That what this is for?" Vince asks, and pushes a skinny hip very deliberately against the hard-on Ned was (maybe) hoping had gone unnoticed. Ned swallows. "Yeah, I--" "'Cause I think it's for me." Vince shoves a hand between them (fuck, this is going to be on two hundred girls' FriendFaces tomorrow, but that's cool, right?) and squeezes Ned's cock through his jeans (somehow he can't picture Rufus slapping him on the back when Jonatton bestows finger-applause at the morning meeting). "Yeah, maybe," Ned says, or more sort of gasps because Vince's hand is hot and surprisingly strong and is still there rubbing away right on rhythm with the music that they're still technically dancing to even though it really feels like he's just humping Vince's hand at this point. Kissing makes sense, right? Kissing's what you do here? But when Ned tries, Vince turns his face aside and Ned gets his neck, which isn't all bad, and Vince doesn't seem to mind Ned sucking the sweat off his skin (it just tastes like sweat, and some kind of soapy flowery something that's probably whatever smells like strawberries, and his neck's smooth all the way up to the hard angle of his jaw, no whiskery spots under his chin). "This one for a stupid ballbag," says the DJ (that's well Einstein, actually talking like a gorilla), and something about sailors starts playing. Vince stops dancing (he keeps his hand on Ned's crotch, though) and looks up. He doesn't look like he's having the time of his life anymore. "Let's get out of here, yeah?" Ned nods and lets Vince lead him away. 'Out of here' turns out to be the alley behind the club, where Vince shoves him up against the bricks and just stares at him for a second, like the kid in that thing who's caught whatever it was he was after but doesn't know what to do with it now he's got it. It might've been in a book. "Alright?" Ned asks. It sounds a bit stupid. Vince mutters something that might be 'fuck it' and kisses Ned, pissed-sloppy and something-to-prove rough, post-fucking-Watershed dirty kissing that makes Ned groan and grab Vince's arse. He has to bend his knees and spread his feet wider to get his groin up against Vince's (he's not a scientist or anything, but he's pretty sure wrapping his legs around Vince's waist like he wants to would make them fall over), which Vince appreciates if the way he suddenly attacks Ned's neck with his teeth is anything to go by (but not the spot behind his ear that turns his knees to jelly, which is surely just as well). "'m I gonna fuck you?" Vince slurs against Ned's collarbone. And fuck, fucking? Actual cock in his actual arse? Ned tenses. The way Vince smirks up at him has no right to be that...cute. "You wanna suck me off, then? 'Cause I'm--" "Yeah," Ned says. That, he can do. That, he knows can do the hell out of, especially once he's turned them round kneels eye to eye--well it hasn't got eyes, that'd be well wrong--with the bulge in Vince's painted-on jeans. Vince has to help him in the end to undo the belt and flies, and wriggle his hips to work the trousers far down enough for Ned to even get his hand in. It's not weird. A cock's a cock. They all work more or less the same. Still, Ned can't help noticing that Vince's cock is longer but thinner than he's what, used to? Was he used to Rufus's cock? That's thirty-seven kinds of a fucking wrong turn, and if there's a different taste to the drops of precome that hit his tongue or a different texture to the edge of Vince's foreskin, he doesn't think about it. What he does think about is Vince grabbing rough fistfuls of his hair and moaning like some kind of porno, and Ned knows enough to know (and has drunk enough not to care) that Vince's offer didn't include a return of the favour, so he gets a hand in his own pants and doesn't, doesn't think of stupid laughs or expect to be bright-eyed smiled at and kissed like a girl at the end of this. He just listens to the porno soundtrack and concentrates on getting off and looks up at Vince with his eyes closed and his careful hair gone all wild, and yeah, it's no fucking wonder everyone was snapping photos, and he's lucky, right? Vince doesn't warn him, just moans out, "Fuck, Howard," and comes in a hot choking spasm that Ned only manages to swallow out of reflex, and he decides he really doesn't want to go all the way home with sticky cold come-pants, so he just gets up when Vince is done. It seems to be only the wall holding Vince up, and when he opens his eyes they're unfocused and bleary and electric blue. "Sorry," Vince says with a slack smile. "Who's Howard?" Vince focuses, blinks. Even in the dim grungey light Ned can tell his cheeks have gone pinker. "I...thought you said your name was Howard." "I never said, mate." "Oh. Right." Vince's eyes close again. "You alright to get home?" Ned should just fuck off, because fuck it and fuck all this, but there's something about Vince that makes it seem wrong to just leave him here. "Yeah." Vince sighs and fumbles his jeans back into a state that won't get him arrested, which was good timing because the back door bangs open to admit some sort of Middle Eastern dwarf in a turban. He glares at Ned and then says, "C'mon, Vince. Bollo's packing up." "A'right, Naboo," Vince says (or something like it), and staggers over to the little man, who ushers him back into the club. Ned doesn't follow, just heads out to the street. "Well no way," he mutters to himself as he walks, but at the left-or-right point where he could either queue up at the taxi rank to go home or turn a couple of corners to Rufus's place, he leaves the taxis to the screeching hen party falling out of their tops. That's definitely not a flying carpet he sees against the moon as he turns the second corner, and the moon definitely doesn't wink.

#the mighty boosh #mighty boosh #boosh #nathan barley #Vince Noir #Ned Smanks #vince noir/ned smanks #howince #Naboo #naboo the enigma #bollo #Howard Moon #Ned Smanks/Rufus Onslatt

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mrkrychek · 7 years ago

Text

Brighter than the sun (Part 3)

Waited a little bit longer to update even though I’ve already written that part a while ago. So please let me now your thoughts of this.

Here you find the last part

Warning: some cuteness but also a lot of heart breaking

Word count: 2282

Part: 3/?

Translation:

Доброе утро (Dobroye utro) - Good morning

Спасибо (Spasibo) - Thank you

Удачи (Udachi) - Good luck

Time passed by faster as you liked to. Today was your final exam and actually you weren't really ready for it. Mentally. You were scared to fail even though you knew that you know all the stuff you need to know. You anxiety made you unable to eat properly for two days now. And sleep was something you haven't had in a week. You felt like a mess and you probably also looked like one. But you needed to to you best because you wanted to be the best. You needed to pass this exam. But your friends were just like you. Everyone was a wrack. Everyone of your friends except for one.

Of course Pavel wasn't like anyone. He was just in his second year so he'd just have his normal finals. But he'd been your friend for almost two years now. And gosh he was such a good friend and always a sunshine in your life. You became really close pretty fast. There had been days when he followed you around like a little puppy and never stopped talking. Sometimes it had been hard to get along with him and his carelessness. But he got your heart.

You were on your way to the auditorium where the final exams were held by your own. Needed at least a little bit silence before it. But there was someone who wasn't aware of your wish. A certain Russian boy was shouting your name and running to you. A little smile came on your lips. Of course he would come here even if you'd told him not to do so.

“(Y/N)! Доброе утро (Dobroye utro)!“ He came to a stop right before you, a little bit out of breath and his looks a little bit messy. But his smile was bright as the morning sun.

“Доброе утро (Dobroye utro), Pavel!” you said trying to hide the nervousness in your voice. “What are you doing here so early?”

“I'we vanted to see you before your exam. To vish you luck!” He took your hand and put something in there. As you took a look you saw a little matryoshka lying in your hand. “Zis is for you. Should giwe you luck!” You just stared at the wooden figure. Never have someone gave you anything as a lucky charm. And especially had no guy ever gave you anything. You just figured that you were a lucky girl to call Pavel your friend, probably even your best male friend. The girl who would end up marrying him would call herself the luckiest girl in universe.

“Thank you so much Pavel. Спасибо (Spasibo)! This is really cute! I guess now nothing can go wrong, doesn't it?” You started laughing a little bit and ran a hand through his hair to make it even messier. “Really..thank you kid. But I have to leave now otherwise I would be late. See you later!”

“Удачи (Udachi)“ With one last smile you continued your way to your exam. In your hand this little matryoshka, your lucky charm for everything now on.

Your exam had been not that bad as you thought it would be. You were confident that you would pass it. In just a few days you would know it for sure and hopefully you would also be assigned to a space ship and start off working. But you would still have to wait for this to happen and today – well today was the day you would get wasted pretty much and party with your friends and classmates and pretty much everyone who wanted to join.

“Damn where are my fucking earrings?” you heard your roommate shouting while she was walking through your little dorm. In the meanwhile you tried to put at least some make up on. You've never been much of a girly girl when it came to make up. Usually you wore non except maybe for some mascara and if you felt like it some lip gloss. But you felt like being some extra pretty tonight. Not like you needed make up for getting attention and being attractive. But hey why not?

“Have you been looking in the dresser next to my bed? Last time you put them there?”

“Nah I'm fine just found them...in the fridge....how did they get there?” You started laughing. Hannah was sometimes a little bit messy but you loved her. So after you finished your make up you came out of the bathroom and walked to your wardrobe and looked for something to ware.

“I would go for the blue dress! It looks good on you and it matches your eyes perfectly!” Hannah said while putting her earrings on.

“You're sure?” You took the dress out and hold it right in front of you and looked into the mirror. “And it makes me look sexy.”

“Keith will like it.” You had to grin because she was right he would like it very much.

“Then the blue one it is!” Quickly you put it on and looked at your best friend. “Ready to party and get drunk?”

“Definitely and maybe get me this cute guy from second year. You know this blonde one. The one who had every girl on campus.”

“Everyone except you and me obviously!” Both of you started laughing. “But go and get him. Don't want him.”

So you both got off your room and to the meeting point of your little party. You'd planned a little party on the biggest green area the campus had. Some classmates had agreed to get drinks, some others would got food and one guy was actually good in doing music so he'd agreed on being the DJ for the night. It sounded like it would be an awesome night and you were so ready to make it your night.

When you arrived there were already a lot cadets were already there and a few seemed already pretty drunk. Hannah dragged you immediately to both of your friends who were standing at the bar.

“Hey guys, we're here” she said and grabbed some drinks to gave you one of it. Both of you exed them before greeting the others properly. And you were right about Keith liking your dress.

Everyone around you was so relieved that the finals were over. They were all stressed out over the past weeks barely slept like you because no one wanted to fail the final finals. No one wanted to have another year – if it wasn't really necessary. But tonight no one cared if they'd made it or not. Tonight was about having fun and getting drunk and forget the last weeks.

You were already on your best way of being totally drunk but wasn't that the plan for tonight? So you got yourself and two of your classmates on the dance floor at some point and swayed you hips to the rhythm of the old Earth music – pretty old stuff from the 21st century but it was still good. Your eyes were closed while you let the music guide your body. There were no actual lyrics with this song but you felt the feeling that it was spreading with every beat. Man, the people of the 21st century knew how to make music an you bet that they had had the time of their lives at parties. It was when someone grabbed your hand that you snapped out of your trance. You looked down to your hand, wandering along the arm of the hand which hold yours, until you reached the face of it's owner an to looked into this bright face of your favorite Russian.

“Pavel!” you said with a smile on your face bending a little down to hug him. Did he just grew bigger since the last time you'd hugged him? He seemed smaller the last time. Kids are growing so fast so it could be possible. And actually you didn't care because you were already too drunk to do so. “Are you having fun here? But don't get too drunk...because you're actually not allowed to drink anything....you're still underaged....actually I don't know if it is okay for you being here at all...it's well over bedtime...” Okay when did you got so overprotective over him? Not like you were his mother or big sister. God, lucky you were neither of it.

“No, no I'm fine” he said and just smiled for a moment. Then his smile just died and he looked very seriously. You've never seen him that serious like now. No matter what he'd always been smiling. “I...uhm...do you hawe a moment...I need to talk to you...alone...” Okay that sounded very serious and you were very concerned about him so you nodded and let him take you away from the speakers and the people to a bench far enough that you still could see the party but the noises weren't disturbing you. So you sat down next to him looked very worried.

“What's wrong Pasha?” You've never used this nickname for him before even though he'd always asked you to do so.

“I...I zink I'm...I'm in love viz...someone...” He was sitting right next to you but it was hard to understand him even the music was far away. But he spoke so quietly plus the alcohol made it a little bit harder for you to hear.

“Do I have to punch someone for you? Does she still have I boyfriend I need to get rid off for you? Did she hurt you and I need to punch her? Is she from your class? Or is she from another one? Oh gosh...or is it a guy? If you're gay I'm totally fine with it...you know my little brother's best friend is gay and I love this boy. And you're my best friend...I would never reject you because you are gay or so...” You took a deep breath. Sometimes when you were drunk you forgot to breath and talking quite too much.

“No...no I'm not gay...” he said, waving with his hands but still not looking at you. And whether it was the alcohol or your really saw his hands shaking a little bit. You took a closer look at him. He looked sad and confused and desperate. Never have you seen him like that. His feelings for her had to be really deep already if they made him look like that.

“Hey...okay...what's wrong, Pasha? Being in love should make you happy not sad...” Now he took a deep breath or maybe too an he slowly turned his head to look at you. You had to swallow hard when he looked you in the eyes. The sprinkle which was usually always there was gone and all you could see was the desperation in them. “Did she...rejected you?” He shook his head but kept his eyes looked to yours. “What's the matter then? Have you already told her about your feelings? No you didn't right? And that's the matter, isn't it?” It was like you and him switched places because usually it was him talking so much and you the one who barely speaks.

“No...no I hawen't...because...I'm afraid...”

“Afraid of what?” You saw him swallowing hard and taking a deeper breath than before. And now you were sure that he was shaking. His whole body was shaking as he tried to get himself together to find courage to speak of his mind.

“I'm afraid of....losing her...because she is...my best friend....” This was when it hit you right into your stomach. Now it was your breath that was missing. Anxiety took away you breath, made you feel sick all of sudden. Everything around you began to spin around and the alcohol was definitely not the only reason for it. You knew that Pavel just had one friend here on campus, one truly friend, his best friend and it was you. He was in love with you and you haven't seen it. How long did you already lived with it? How long did he already planned to tell you but found never the right moment?

You nearly jumped off the bench. A little bit too fast because everything around you started to spin around even more but you kept it together. Then you took a few steps backwards, staring at this little boy and seeing his little heart breaking into pieces.

“I'm so-sorry....I...I can't....” You immediately turned around and started running. You nearly fell sometimes but you kept yourself on your feet. Tears forced their way up into your eyes but you swallowed them away. No you wouldn't cry now. Not because you broke the heart of your best friend just because he fell in love with you.

And then you nearly fell on the ground as you stumbled over a bigger stone you haven't seen. But someone grabbed you in a firm grip and kept you just centimeters away from ground. You were lifted up again on your feet. The person looked at you worried while asking you if you were alright. No of course you were not but you wouldn't say that out loud. Your heart hurt because you hurt someone else you really liked. And you wanted to forget this pain. So either you would get even more drunk and risk to wake up in hospital because of alcohol poisoning or you would just let yourself get fucked so hard that you would forget everything. And the person in front of you seemed like the right person to do so. So your decision was made.

#brighter than the sun #Pavel Chekov #pavel chekov/reader #pavel chekov x reader #chekov/reader #star trek #star trek aos #fanfiction #reader insert

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helenpowers · 8 years ago

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Drag the Boundaries

“It’s just makeup, it’s not going to bite you.”

“Are you sure mom won’t recognize me?”

“If I do my job right, then yes; and I always do my job right.”

“Okay, because she will be there tonight, you know.”

“Yes, I know.”

August takes a deep breath and let out the air with a whoosh. He is staring at his reflection in the mirror. Baron has spread out a collection of makeup on the dresser and he is going through different hues of foundation, trying to find one in his collection that will match August’s tone.

Settling on a bottle, he squirts the thick liquid onto the back of his hand and grabs a sponge to start blending it into August’s skin. “You can change your mind at any time,” Baron reminds him, “you don’t have to do this if you don’t want to.”

“No, I want to.” August’s response is rushed. This is what he’d wanted since the first time he saw Baron perform. He isn’t going to back out now when he’s so close.

In the mirror he can see the reflection of Baron’s bed. The covers are neatly made, but the bed itself is a mess. Wigs and clothes and makeup are spread across it haphazardly, covering its surface so thoroughly that the blankets can’t even be seen.

“Stop thumping your leg,” Baron says, pushing August’s leg down gently. He hadn’t even realized that he’d been doing it. “If you’re going to be like this, I’m going to turn you away from the mirror.”

“Maybe that would be a good idea,” August spins his chair around. A part of him is excited to see what he will look like, but he also doesn’t want to see the transformation happen.

“Okay, close your eyes.”

August follows his instructions and the world goes black. He loses sense of time. He can’t tell if it’s been minutes or hours when Baron finally lets him open his eyes again.

“One of the cool things about wigs,” Baron says as he flips through the pile of hair covering his bed, “you get to pick your hair colour, and if you don’t like it then you take it off and try a new one.”

“I’ve always wanted to be a red head,” August mutters.

“Red it is.”

Baron spends time lining up the wig properly and gluing down the lace-front.

“Do you want to pick out your clothes, or shall I?”

“I don’t know; I just want people to believe it.”

“So me, then.” Baron cracks a grin and pulls out a corset. “This is going to be your new best friend.”

By the time Baron finishes, August can barely breathe. The corset is tied so tightly that his ribs creak when he inhales. It doesn’t feel healthy, but he doesn’t care. He finally gets to see the end result. He turns around to face the mirror again.

“Holy shit. I’m hot.”

“Damn straight, you are. Did you expect anything less?”

“I actually look like a woman.”

“Give me half an hour to get ready myself. Then we can head out to the bar,” Baron says, waving around a makeup brush. It took hours to get August into full drag, so he doubts that Baron can get himself done in such a short amount of time, but half an hour passes and both of the boys are ready.

They walk to the bar down the street together and it’s the first instance of August feeling uncomfortable. Everyone is staring at him, or at least that is what it feels like. Baron just keeps walking, his needle-point heels clacking against the sidewalk with each step that he takes. He is the picture of confidence with his hips swaying from side to side, winking and pursing his lips at every man or woman who happens to make eye contact with him. He is in his element.

“Do you usually walk to the bar in full drag?” August asks,

“No. Usually I get ready there.”

“Then why didn’t we do that?” Baron can see that August isn’t feeling super comfortable. He gives him a light pat on the shoulder.

“Don’t worry. Tonight is just about us having a good time.”

The bar is dark. It’s late and the patrons are already several drinks deep into their evenings. The tables have all been set up around a long stage that goes through the center of the room. The only lights in the whole place are facing the stage, lighting it up in an array of fluorescent colours. A Carrie Underwood song is blasting while a drag queen lip-syncs on stage.

“Okay, I have to go backstage. My set starts soon. Stay out here, get a feel for it. I set up your slot to be after mine.” Baron relays all of this information quickly before running through a door next to the bar. August sits on one of the bar stools and orders a drink to calm his nerves.

Carrie Underwood stops playing and the queen makes her way through the audience, collecting tips from between the fingers of young women having bachelorette parties and men who have gotten too drunk to care about implications.

The lights spin and collect over the center of the stage as a voice comes over the loudspeaker.

“Ladies and gentlemen, we now welcome to the stage a crowd favorite. A long-time performer; The Baroness!”

The audience goes wild as Baron takes the stage and August claps loudly along with them. A set comprised of numbers from Broadway musicals starts up and Baron is immediately in character.

This. This is what August has been waiting for. This is what inspired him in the first place. Baron is so good at his job. He and the audience both have a fantastic time while he’s on stage. Hell, he’s managed to pay his rent off of the tips he makes at this place before. There are people in the audience who go to their university, some of them share classes with the two boys, but they cheer just as loud as the others.

The stool to August’s left spins as someone sits in it. He glances out of the corner of his eye and finds his mother sitting next to him, calling for the bartender’s attention. She’s all done up for her friend’s bachelorette party, her hair down and curled, her makeup done, and a form fitting dress. She could give runway models a run for their money when she looks like this, she’s so beautiful.

His mom turns towards him, and he quickly swivels on the stool so that he is facing away from her. He doesn’t want to risk her recognizing him, not yet. He wants to at least get on stage before that happens. August hears a shuffling sound and then the distinct click-clack of heels walking away. When he turns back, she is gone.

Baron’s set is getting close to ending so August heads towards the door that he had gone through earlier. It brings him to a small backstage section with a couple of chairs, mirrors, and bars to hang clothing up. Several of the drag queens who perform regularly at the bar are there, peeling off eyelashes and kicking off their too-tall heels. Several of them turn to look at August when he walks through the door.

“You must be the friend of The Baroness?” One of them asks as they stand to shake August’s hand. He is still in full drag, glitter raining down from him as he moves. “She did an amazing job. You look flawless.”

“Thank you.” August is taken aback by how friendly everyone is. All of them stand to shake his hand and welcome him backstage. They offer him a seat and bring him bottles of water, saying that he’ll want to hydrate before he goes on stage. The vibe in there is different than it was in the audience. These people are all friends and they respect what each of them does on the stage. They’re a little family. Baron had tried to explain that to August once, but he hadn’t understood it at the time.

The stage door opens and Baron comes in, sweat dripping off of him. One of the other queens throws him an icy bottle of water, which Baron uncaps and chugs down in moments. He works hard on that stage.

“It’s your turn,” Baron says when he finishes his bottle. “I’ve already given your mix to the DJ, and the announcer knows your stage name. You’re all set.”

Not for the first time that night, August gets nervous. His knees are shaking as he walks in his heels towards the door. He places a hand on the handle and listens for his cue.

“Now coming to the stage, we have a newcomer! It’s her first time performing, not just on this stage, but in general, so everyone treat her well tonight. Put your hands together and welcome Sister Augustine!”

Before he can second guess himself, he puts pressure onto the handle and the door swings open. He walks into the pool of light that is waiting for him on stage and he takes a moment to look around. There are people that he knows in the audience and he can see their faces. He can see the look of surprise on them.

He can see his mother’s face drop, her mouth hanging open in horrified surprise. He tries not to let it bother him as the music starts. The first song of his set comes on, an upbeat pop number that gets some of the crowd clapping along, but before he can truly get started, he is interrupted.

“August, what the hell do you think you are doing?” His mother shouts over the music. She has made her way to the front of the stage and is standing almost directly in front of him. He ignores her and continues to perform the song, although he can’t pull up as much excitement as he had before. He’s nervous about what is going to happen.

“You listen to me, young man! Get down from there right now!” Everyone in the bar is staring at her instead of watching the show. Slowly August stops dancing, his lip-sync becomes less enthusiastic.

This is exactly what he had been worried about earlier, when Baron was doing his makeup. He knew that his mom wouldn’t take kindly to it.

Feeling tears welling up in his eyes, he backs himself off the stage. The music is cut off and the MC waits for instructions. August storms through the back stage area, past all of the other drag queens, past Baron. He doesn’t even look at them, he’s too concentrated on what is happening out in the audience. He walks through the door that leads back to the bar and he finds his mother waiting there for him, arms crossed over her chest, eyebrows furrowed.

“Well? Are you gay, then?” She asks.

“What?” August didn’t expect that to be the first question that she asks.

“This is all because of that Baron boy, isn’t it? I saw him on stage too. Did he do this to you? Turn you into this?”

The tears that have been threatening to overflow since his mother interrupted stop just as quickly as they came on. All he can feel is the complete and utter shock that has smacked him across the face.

“Baron did nothing except help me get ready. I came to this decision on my own. I just thought that it looked like fun and I wanted to try it out.”

“Are you sure you didn’t catch anything from him?”

“Homosexuality isn’t something you can catch, mom! It’s something that you’re born with.”

“I don’t believe that.”

“And I don’t believe how callous you’re acting!” His face is red with anger, all of it centered around his need to defend his friend. Baron, who has done absolutely nothing wrong, doesn’t deserve this. He never knew that his mother felt this way towards him, that she harbored such terrible, homophobic feelings towards him. She’s done well with hiding it until now.

“I think you need to come home, right now,” she says, pointing her finger towards the floor to emphasize her statement.

“And I think you need to leave,” August replies, his voice quiet. His mother looks at him in shock, unable to believe what she is hearing.

“If you get back up on that stage, you don’t have a home to come back to,” she threatens, the words coming from between clenched teeth.

“That’s fine,” he says with a shrug of his shoulders, “I’ll find somewhere else to stay,” he sounds so calm compared to his mother, but he’s just given up. He can see that he isn’t going to be able to convince his mother of anything. She’s always been hard headed, stubborn. August takes more after his father that way, more flexible, more understanding. More willing to accept that they may not be right, but he knows that he is this time.

Leaving his mother with her mouth hanging open, August walks backstage. The entire crew of drag queens is still there, all of them pale and upset looking. August makes eye contact with Baron and can see that he’s been crying. There is silence while August walks up to him, uncertainty so tangible that it could be cut with a butter knife.

“Can I stay with you for a few days?” August asks.

“Of course, you can stay as long as you would like,” Baron responds without missing a beat. “What happened?”

“Nothing.”

“She kicked you out, didn’t she?” His voice wavers and there are more tears welling up in his eyes.

“Yes.”

“I’m sorry,” Barons wails, covering his face with his hands and sobbing. He’s going to ruin his makeup that he worked so hard on.

“There’s nothing to be sorry about. This isn’t your fault.”

“Isn’t it?”

“No, of course not. It’s hers for not being able to understand. And for being so closed minded. Nothing you or I can do can possibly change that.”

“Still…” Baron trails off and August can tell that he’s still beating himself up about it.

“How long to I have left of my slot?” August asks, changing the subject.

Baron looks at him in confusion, checks the clock above the stage door. “About ten minutes, why?”

“Good. I still have some time to make some tip money. I need to be able to pay some of the rent at least.” He winks and walks out the door. His mother is no longer in the crowd, but the people who are left cheer for him.

The lights go down, the MC starts up the music again, and August performs.

#short story #creative writing #my writing #tumblr writing community #am writing #amwriting #writeblr #drag queen #fluff #contemporary #mywriting

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silverfoxsofy · 8 years ago

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Your Love, Here (AU) CHAPTER 3!

I zip up my jacket, and wrap my arms around myself. Fuck, it's really cold out right now. It's already 9:50pm, I'm still early, but ten more minutes is all I need till I can walk up to the library and act as if I'd just gotten here. Is 10 on the dot too desperate? I wonder if I should wait 20 minutes instead. It's freezing though, and I'm sure he wouldn't mind? Would I look more nonchalant if I show up late? Or would I look like an ass? After all we're just going to a pub it's not as if I formally asked him on a date... I wonder how he'd feel about that? Wait.. is he even gay? What if he thinks this is just friendly? Well.. technically it is... but... WAIT what if he's not gay? Did I get the wrong vibes? Fuck... should I go home? God dammit no I should take this chance! I should- "In?" A voice interrupts my melodramatic thoughts. I look to the side, and see Ezra poking his head out the door. "Would you like to come in? It's freezing" he gives me a concerned look, and my flushed face and I nod back to him. "I'm just about to lock up for the night, you mind waiting a bit?" He asks, giving me another warm smile. "Not at all" I whisper back, trying hard to cover my embarrassment. While I'm standing by the door, I watch as he quickly and quietly organizes a few books, reaching up and placing them on the shelves. His hair keeps falling over his face, and I can't help but stare when he tucks it behind his ear. How beautiful can one human being be? Just then, he accidentally drops a book, and I immediately walk toward him to pick it up. Almost simultaneously, he bends down to retrieve it as well, and our hands touch at the same time. We don't pull back, instead looking up at each other. I can see his freckles a lot clearer now, my heart skipping a few beats. He smirks and picks up the book to place it back on the shelf. "Alright that'll do, let's get going then!" He says, and walk out the magnificent library. *** On the way to the pub, which is in walking distance, Ezra shows me a few other shops along the way, explaining things like how they came to be, or why they're still even open. Once we get the pub, we're greeted by a completely different atmosphere than I expected. Contrast to the quiet and peaceful nature of the town, the pubs loud music and happily drunk people dancing resemble exactly to the kind of environment I'd see in the city. There are people our age here, women downing shots by the bar, men and women grinding on each other to the beat of the music in the middle of the floor. The DJ isn't half bad, and as Ezra and I go to sit down at some of the stools at the bar, I quickly notice a couple to my right, making out in the corner. Ezra and I are already past a few shots, and the longer we stay here the more I notice the night is getting livelier by the hour. According to Ezra, this pub is just about one of the few places in this town and few neighboring ones where people get to let loose. And according to Ezra we picked a good night to come too, because this kind of thing is rare to happen. The alcohol hasn't set in for neither of us, which makes me glad, I can finally talk to him. But as much courage as I summed up to ask him out, he initiates a conversation first. Again, Ezra's the one asking all the questions, about school, about the books I read, which leads to the topic or horror, which leads to which movies we like, which leads to Ezra suggesting we watch a horror movie together sometime, which leads to us talking about conspiracy theories, which leads to us making fun of conspiracy theorists, which makes Ezra laugh, a lot, which makes me die. Finally, I feel at ease, although the alcohol still hasn't set in. We down a few more shots, and I can now feel a slightly good buzz going, plus, I've made Ezra laugh a few times, seeing him show his teeth during a laughing fit is probably the greatest thing.. Somehow, throughout the night, I've managed to ask Ezra about himself more, poking and prodding as much as I can. "HAHAHA Jesus Christ what a fucker" he exclaims loudly, laughing while I finish telling him about the time I got into a huge bar fight in the city. I don't know if it's cause he's drunk, but I think Ezra being vulgar like this is pretty damn funny. This... is going so well... He looks up at me, wiping away a tear caused by laughing too hard no doubt, and smirks childishly. He grabs my hand and pulls me off the bar stool into the dancing crowd. "Hey wait.. what if..." I whisper at him, starting to pull my hand away. The music is so loud I'm sure he couldn't hear me. "No one will notice" he says, smirking playfully, and just like that he pulls me onto the dance floor and starts moving sensually to the rhythm of the beat. I stare at him, gawking. He's right no one is noticing, but how could they not? This fucking guy is so... sexy?!?! I quickly follow him and move along right with him. Back in the city, id been to a few gay bars, but moving along to the music with Ezra like this, my hands on his hips, looking at me like... like he's asking me to... is something I'm completely new to. The dark room and flashing colorful lights are making me feel more drunk than I actually am, but I can't complain. Looking at Ezra sway amongst all the movement and noise, as if he's in his element, I want this view to stay in my mind forever. He's beautiful, he's funny, a bit of an ass when he's inebriated, but gentle, and I'm here with him now.. The beats drop one by one, and the crowded room roars with laughter and sound. I'm enjoying myself, moving my body and jumping to the waves of sound flooding the room. Just then, Ezra grabs my hand, and pulls me in closer. Dancing closer to my body, touching me when switching up his movements. His arms are crawling up around my shoulders, and he's laughing and smiling in my face. He's so drunk it's hilarious. I can't help but be drawn into it as well. He looks up at me, with huge, pleading eyes... and kisses me. My body freezes for only a moment, did Ezra really kiss me? So he IS gay??? FUCK YES! I look down at the beautiful man, face red as can be, and kiss him back. Fuck.. *** Ezra closes his front door behind him, fumbling to lock it. He turns around to look at me, a gives me a sensual smirk. "I, *hiccup* really like you hehe" he stumbles closer to me. Whoa. I grab onto his face, this man is older than me, but a drunk Ezra is by far the cutest thing I've ever come across. "You're so hot man... *hiccup* I... wanted to fuck you... in your room... *hiccup* on that day we met at your *hiccup* house." He chokes out, half laughing. He leans in on me, and I fall atop his stairs. He crawls on top of me... and I can feel my entire body flush. Is this actually happening right now? "I... *hiccup* saw.. your yaoi... haha..." I blush crimson, fuck. This little fucker! Right then and there, he kisses me, gently, and places two hands on my chest. The kiss deepens, and I grab onto his waist. I slide my hands up and down his hips and waist, lifting his shirt slightly. I feel up his chest, and lightly play with his nipples. I've read tons of yaoi, so please PLEASE god let it come to good use tonight! As my fingers lightly pinch his nipples, a small groan slips out of his mouth, and he begins to grind on my hips. His hands travel up my neck to the nape of my hair, and I feel a slight tug. The kiss breaks, the both of us silently gasping for air. He looks into my eyes, and starts crawling down my body, to my crotch. Fuuuuuuck. He gets on his his knees a few steps down, and runs his hands down my body to the belt on my jeans. With slightly shaky hands, he unbuckles them, and pulls out my half hard dick. The feel of his hands while strokes my now very sensitive cock is amazing, and I gasp loudly as I feel his hot, wet mouth surprise attack it. He bobs his head up and down, sucking with gentle force , and licking the tip of my dick just before taking it whole down his throat. I shudder at the sensation, he's really good at it... Just then, he gets up for a moment, head still bobbing up and down my dick, and quickly removes his pants. He lifts his face up, and spits on two of his fingers... fuck is going to... While returning to the motions from before, I watch as he struggles a bit to put a finger, then eventually two inside of him, wincing here and there. It's all so surreal but if he keeps going on like this.. I'll cum before he gets a chance to enjoy himself... He gets up slowly, and just before moving again, he looks at my dick, and spits on it. The action itself surprises me, but turns me on so much I feel myself quiver as I watch him crawl up on my lap. He straddles himself, and looks at me, with a gentle warm smile, but I can clearly see the lust behind it. Slowly but surely, he places himself on top of my already dripping cock, and sucks me up whole. We stay this way for a while, and I hear him breathing deeply, trying to get use to my shape. I look up at him, and caress his face, flashing his a blushing yet reassuring smile. He shyly smiles back. "You're so fucking huge give me minute" I laugh loudly and watch him blush and giggle, god he's adorable. He shushes me, and giggles even more, hiccuping, causing him to squeeze me. So tight... "Alright.. " he looks so determined. Finally, he starts moving up and down, and the immense pleasure sends electric waves throughout my body. God... he's so tight I really hope I don't cum soon... I look up at him through half shut eyes, and he's already throwing his head back, gasping at the sensations. He starts moving faster, grasping my shoulders, moaning louder and louder while he rides me. I hold on tightly to his hips, sliding my hands up to his face. I move my fingers towards his lips, placing fingers inside his mouth. He licks them in response, and I lose it. I grab onto his hips again, and sit up, this time thrusting into him, faster and faster as his moans increase. We're both panting in a cloud of hot breathe, my mind and body feel like they're on a cloud. My grip on his ass is so tight, he shows no signs of falling over while he puts his arms over his face, practically yelling in ecstasy at this point. "S-Sam!" He shouts, while he arches his back, cumming right onto my stomach. I thrust hard a few more times and cum deeply inside of him, leaning my head onto his chest.

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brallonsin · 8 years ago

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http://beeisatthedisco.livejournal.com/892.html

Chapter two: Burn Down The Disco At streetlamps hour on a very boring Saturday, Dallon and I decide to leave our tiny apartment. I lock the door behind us and follow him a couple of blocks to a new bar he’s been raving about. It’s only just opened and he thinks that one day it’s going to have a guest list to get in, so we should make ourselves known there, apparently. We walk beneath the moonlight, it’s there, very lightly, mostly hidden by the bright lights of New York City below it but I can still make out the moon if I look hard enough. “Holy smokes, you’re gonna love it here, Brendon, I went with Spence and Gabe last night and it rocked. There were cute guys on the bar making these amazing cocktails I’ve never even heard of and every one there seemed so… cool and gosh, Brendon, we might meet some famous people, it’s gonna be the new hot spot, oh, I love New York!” He’s babbling but it’s cute, I smile up at him, so tall and enthusiastic and he’s throwing his long limbs around as he speaks. He’s right, too, New York is so different to Utah, our hometown. Utah is so closed minded and hateful and… stubborn. New York is open, beautiful and understanding. New York has never punished him for loving men. Not yet. The bouncer on the door nods at Dallon, recognising him from last night and it is a new club, after all. The smell of perfume, aftershave and sweat hits us before the smoke machine does as we walk in, it clouds over the both of us and all I can see is Dallon Weekes’s big stupid grin poking out the top of the smoke. I hum in approval at the choice of music as Morrisseys voice drones over the speakers. ‘Burn down the disco Hang the blessed DJ Because the music that they constantly play Says nothing to me about my life’ “Brendon, hermaso!” an excited voice comes as Gabriel Saporta’s long arms pull me into them, he’s stupidly tall too and my nose hits his chest in our embrace. He always throws Spanish words into english sentences, he thinks it makes him sound more interesting. I hug him back, giving him a small smile and backing back against the bar, knowing not to be too friendly with Gabe or he will try and take me home again. Or to the toilets, that’s happened before too. “Shit…” He’s suddenly distracted, I turn around to inspect why his eyes have now turned to saucers and oh. Oh. Mine are saucers now too. The boy from work is there, right there and dang… he’s in another fancy suit but looks more relaxed, hair combed perfectly into a quiff and rolling a cigarette in his fingers, at least I think it’s a cigarette. No girl this time. That’s too bad. I’m grinning. And wait, does Gabe know him? “Who is it?” I press, Dallon and Spencer have turned to look now too, not that he’d notice, too involved in conversation with another freakishly tall man that has pretty girl hair and sharp cheekbones.  “Who is it?! That’s Ryan Ross, the Ryan Ross… he owns most of New York! Oh! This is probably his club, look at him, he owns this place for sure. Oh, don’t look at him like that Urie, he’d chew you up and spit you out. Rumour has it he dates who he wants, when he wants and people disappear when he’s done with them…” I roll my eyes because great, another big ego in a world of egotistical maniacs. No thank you. He’s pretty too, it’s a shame. “I’m getting a drink…” I review the cocktail menu briefly before ordering myself an old fashioned. I take out my wallet to pay before I hear a voice in my ear. “I’ve got it, pretty, put your money away…” The voice is velvety and smooth, low but without being gravelly and I melt. I haven’t gotten laid in a while so I smile and accept it, putting my wallet in my pocket before turning around to thank the kind stranger. “Thank you, I’m… oh.” My throat feels dry as I look up into Ryan’s eyes, so that’s what they look like. Shit. He should never wear sunglasses. It should be a crime. The bartender passes my drink to Ryan and he doesn’t have to pay for it. Maybe he does own the joint. He’s even more beautiful unclose and I’ve forgotten how to speak. God, Brendon, play it cool, he’s just another asshole who thinks he can get anyone, Gabe even said it. Don’t let him get you. “Your name is… oh? Mine is Ryan.” Ryan grins, clearly amused as he passes me my drink and crosses his arms over. A stunned silence surrounds our friend group and I look from Gabe to Dallon to Spencer with wide eyes for help but I’m just met with shrugs and shaking heads, great, they’re all intimated too. “No… uh. It’s Brendon.” I correct, fixing my shirt and pulling it lower because he smells good and he’s too close and my pants feel tight. Of course they find him intimidating, he has that air around him, he’s not as tall as all of my weirdly tall friends but he’s tall enough and he stands proud. He licks his lips. I’m fucked. “I know that. Saw it on your name tag today. You work in that lingerie store for the discount?” He smirks and he’s eating me up with his eyes. I don’t know if he’s mocking me or if he’s getting off to imagining me in tiny lace panties. His look is dark and it could be either. Or both. Suddenly the tall man I saw him with earlier walks out from the bathrooms, throwing his arms around Ryan and I hold back a disapproving glare as he kisses his beautiful, chiseled cheek. Gabe wolf whistles at him, looking him up and down and within a second Ryan is in my friends face, fists tight.  “Dont. William is mine and one more derogatory noise from your mouth around him and you’re out. You here me? Out from here and every other gay bar in the area. And you won’t be back.” He all but snarls as he pulls away, tugging Will with him as they walk to the VIP area, he turns back to give me a little grin. What a fucking mindfuck. “Asshole…” Gabe whispers, too quiet for anyone except us to hear as he watches Ryan and William walk up the stairs to the VIP area and slip into one of the booths, a curtain covering them. Gabe’s pride is clearly knocked but he gets over it, chanting ‘shots’ and clapping to the music, soon distracted by a pretty shot boy carrying alcohol on a tray and handing them out. I take one. It burns. I use the drink Ryan got me to chase it. * * * 3am. We’re singing and swaying and I can’t get him out of my mind. I want to dislike him with everything in me but I can’t. I’m just intrigued, I want to know more. His honey-coloured eyes burn into my brain and shit, I don’t think I’ll ever rid the memory of them. He was wearing eyeliner, it made him look even more feminine which is really sexy combined with that arrogant, masculine persona he carries. The glow of neon is hurting my eyes in the best way when I tell my friends I’m going to the bathroom and I’ll be right back. I don’t realise that I’m being followed. I don’t need the toilet, I’m just a sweaty dude right now and I need to dab my face, I grab some tissues and pat them over my skin, looking at myself in the mirror. Another body presses behind me and I freeze. The face that hooks over my shoulder is familiar and some large hands are holding my hips.  “Fancy seeing you here…” I gulp, eyes meeting Ryan’s gorgeous honey dripped ones in the mirror. Kill me now. I can’t take this. He’s watching his hands work over my hips and he seems to like the sight. I want him to bend me over the sink and fuck me right in front of the large mirror, right here, where anyone could walk in and catch us. I wonder if he could even get in trouble for that, by the sounds he couldn’t get in trouble for anything. Apparently he can because he immediately lets go of my hips and backs off when he hears the door open and he gives me a look that says ‘maybe next time…’ before slipping away again. He always slips away. I walk back out and Dallon's grinning at me when I come over to them.  “He’s the guy, isn’t he? The one you won’t stop talking about. Golly, B, you’re like a lovesick puppy around him… don’t let him hurt you, okay? I don’t wanna have to pick up any pieces…” I cut his babbling off with a sharp tone. “I’m not! I don’t care about Ryan fuckin’ Ross and his too good for everyone attitude. I’m not going to be another tick on his “to do” list.” I sigh, rubbing his arm as I didn’t mean to shout. I just. I’m not. I’m not easy and I can’t be bought with drinks and sexy looks. “Sorry. Maybe we should go.” I don’t want to, the more drunk I get, the more I want to stay and gaze at Ryan but when I see him with his tongue down Williams throat and begin to imagine that it’s me… I decide that leaving probably was the better idea. We walk. Stumble… home.

#ryden #ryan ross #brendon urie #dallon weekes #fanfiction

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brallonsin · 8 years ago

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Velveteen Ships

Chapter 2:

At streetlamps hour on a very boring Saturday, Dallon and I decide to leave our tiny apartment. I lock the door behind us and follow him a couple of blocks to a new bar he’s been raving about. It’s only just opened and he thinks that one day it’s going to have a guest list to get in, so we should make ourselves known there, apparently. We walk beneath the moonlight, it’s there, very lightly, mostly hidden by the bright lights of New York City below it but I can still make out the moon if I look hard enough. “Holy smokes, you’re gonna love it here, Brendon, I went with Spence and Gabe last night and it rocked. There were cute guys on the bar making these amazing cocktails I’ve never even heard of and every one there seemed so… cool and gosh, Brendon, we might meet some famous people, it’s gonna be the new hot spot, oh, I love New York!” He’s babbling but it’s cute, I smile up at him, so tall and enthusiastic and he’s throwing his long limbs around as he speaks. He’s right, too, New York is so different to Utah, our hometown. Utah is so closed minded and hateful and… stubborn. New York is open, beautiful and understanding. New York has never punished him for loving men. Not yet. The bouncer on the door nods at Dallon, recognising him from last night and it is a new club, after all. The smell of perfume, aftershave and sweat hits us before the smoke machine does as we walk in, it clouds over the both of us and all I can see is Dallon Weekes’s big stupid grin poking out the top of the smoke. I hum in approval at the choice of music as Morrisseys voice drones over the speakers. ‘Burn down the disco Hang the blessed DJ Because the music that they constantly play Says nothing to me about my life’ “Brendon, hermaso!” an excited voice comes as Gabriel Saporta’s long arms pull me into them, he’s stupidly tall too and my nose hits his chest in our embrace. He always throws Spanish words into english sentences, he thinks it makes him sound more interesting. I hug him back, giving him a small smile and backing back against the bar, knowing not to be too friendly with Gabe or he will try and take me home again. Or to the toilets, that’s happened before too. “Shit…” He’s suddenly distracted, I turn around to inspect why his eyes have now turned to saucers and oh. Oh. Mine are saucers now too. The boy from work is there, right there and dang… he’s in another fancy suit but looks more relaxed, hair combed perfectly into a quiff and rolling a cigarette in his fingers, at least I think it’s a cigarette. No girl this time. That’s too bad. I’m grinning. And wait, does Gabe know him? “Who is it?” I press, Dallon and Spencer have turned to look now too, not that he’d notice, too involved in conversation with another freakishly tall man that has pretty girl hair and sharp cheekbones.  “Who is it?! That’s Ryan Ross, the Ryan Ross… he owns most of New York! Oh! This is probably his club, look at him, he owns this place for sure. Oh, don’t look at him like that Urie, he’d chew you up and spit you out. Rumour has it he dates who he wants, when he wants and people disappear when he’s done with them…” I roll my eyes because great, another big ego in a world of egotistical maniacs. No thank you. He’s pretty too, it’s a shame. “I’m getting a drink…” I review the cocktail menu briefly before ordering myself an old fashioned. I take out my wallet to pay before I hear a voice in my ear. “I’ve got it, pretty, put your money away…” The voice is velvety and smooth, low but without being gravelly and I melt. I haven’t gotten laid in a while so I smile and accept it, putting my wallet in my pocket before turning around to thank the kind stranger. “Thank you, I’m… oh.” My throat feels dry as I look up into Ryan’s eyes, so that’s what they look like. Shit. He should never wear sunglasses. It should be a crime. The bartender passes my drink to Ryan and he doesn’t have to pay for it. Maybe he does own the joint. He’s even more beautiful unclose and I’ve forgotten how to speak. God, Brendon, play it cool, he’s just another asshole who thinks he can get anyone, Gabe even said it. Don’t let him get you. “Your name is… oh? Mine is Ryan.” Ryan grins, clearly amused as he passes me my drink and crosses his arms over. A stunned silence surrounds our friend group and I look from Gabe to Dallon to Spencer with wide eyes for help but I’m just met with shrugs and shaking heads, great, they’re all intimated too. “No… uh. It’s Brendon.” I correct, fixing my shirt and pulling it lower because he smells good and he’s too close and my pants feel tight. Of course they find him intimidating, he has that air around him, he’s not as tall as all of my weirdly tall friends but he’s tall enough and he stands proud. He licks his lips. I’m fucked. “I know that. Saw it on your name tag today. You work in that lingerie store for the discount?” He smirks and he’s eating me up with his eyes. I don’t know if he’s mocking me or if he’s getting off to imagining me in tiny lace panties. His look is dark and it could be either. Or both. Suddenly the tall man I saw him with earlier walks out from the bathrooms, throwing his arms around Ryan and I hold back a disapproving glare as he kisses his beautiful, chiseled cheek. Gabe wolf whistles at him, looking him up and down and within a second Ryan is in my friends face, fists tight.  “Dont. William is mine and one more derogatory noise from your mouth around him and you’re out. You here me? Out from here and every other gay bar in the area. And you won’t be back.” He all but snarls as he pulls away, tugging Will with him as they walk to the VIP area, he turns back to give me a little grin. What a fucking mindfuck. “Asshole…” Gabe whispers, too quiet for anyone except us to hear as he watches Ryan and William walk up the stairs to the VIP area and slip into one of the booths, a curtain covering them. Gabe’s pride is clearly knocked but he gets over it, chanting ‘shots’ and clapping to the music, soon distracted by a pretty shot boy carrying alcohol on a tray and handing them out. I take one. It burns. I use the drink Ryan got me to chase it. * * * 3am. We’re singing and swaying and I can’t get him out of my mind. I want to dislike him with everything in me but I can’t. I’m just intrigued, I want to know more. His honey-coloured eyes burn into my brain and shit, I don’t think I’ll ever rid the memory of them. He was wearing eyeliner, it made him look even more feminine which is really sexy combined with that arrogant, masculine persona he carries. The glow of neon is hurting my eyes in the best way when I tell my friends I’m going to the bathroom and I’ll be right back. I don’t realise that I’m being followed. I don’t need the toilet, I’m just a sweaty dude right now and I need to dab my face, I grab some tissues and pat them over my skin, looking at myself in the mirror. Another body presses behind me and I freeze. The face that hooks over my shoulder is familiar and some large hands are holding my hips.  “Fancy seeing you here…” I gulp, eyes meeting Ryan’s gorgeous honey dripped ones in the mirror. Kill me now. I can’t take this. He’s watching his hands work over my hips and he seems to like the sight. I want him to bend me over the sink and fuck me right in front of the large mirror, right here, where anyone could walk in and catch us. I wonder if he could even get in trouble for that, by the sounds he couldn’t get in trouble for anything. Apparently he can because he immediately lets go of my hips and backs off when he hears the door open and he gives me a look that says ‘maybe next time…’ before slipping away again. He always slips away. I walk back out and Dallon's grinning at me when I come over to them.  “He’s the guy, isn’t he? The one you won’t stop talking about. Golly, B, you’re like a lovesick puppy around him… don’t let him hurt you, okay? I don’t wanna have to pick up any pieces…” I cut his babbling off with a sharp tone. “I’m not! I don’t care about Ryan fuckin’ Ross and his too good for everyone attitude. I’m not going to be another tick on his “to do” list.” I sigh, rubbing his arm as I didn’t mean to shout. I just. I’m not. I’m not easy and I can’t be bought with drinks and sexy looks. “Sorry. Maybe we should go.” I don’t want to, the more drunk I get, the more I want to stay and gaze at Ryan but when I see him with his tongue down Williams throat and begin to imagine that it’s me… I decide that leaving probably was the better idea. We walk. Stumble… home.

#ryden #brallon #brendon urie #dallon weekes #fanfiction #ryan ross #patd #velveteen ships

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