#rob stage manager

[rcdempticn]

peyton is basically an oc of an oc at this point , she's soo far removed from the original material its almost alarming

#me ? making it so she becomes a singer later on ? exploring music in the decade and socital response to performers ? YES #AND IM SOOO EXCITED #her just having this dream through the years to be on stage and perform and provide some light... <3 #in 1911 amma have it so her manager is a fucking moron and goes to mexico even with the climbing tensions #and she's like 'um. no?' and they get robbed on the side of the road and split up. maybe by dutch's bitchboys for funni #and peyton goes back to her outlaw roots to find her people and it creates a fun dynamic #i already have a lil drabble / side mission tha thappens with her #idk im so excited #shes just a lil guy :(

[flowersandbigteeth]

Looking for a saucy medieval tradition to weave into your historical romances? Have no fear, foot-of-the-gallows marriage is here! Basically, if a man was about to be hanged and a woman stepped forward and said “I will marry this man!” he was spared because it was was seen as like “oh, she’ll rehabilitate him so we don’t have to kill him.” Now, I heard this from tiktok, so I could be wrong, and it could just be a folk tale or something that rarely happened in actuality. Either way, it’s a cool troupe I think more people should use (and I myself will be using). I think it would work really well with Orcs and Elves!

This is such an intriguing idea! I had to try it. If you end up writing it, tag me, if you are comfortable! I'd love to see what you do with it ^_^

I keep getting Orc ideas, and I can't resist them *feral invasive Orc thoughts* （￣ ｗ￣）Ψ

Orc (Saber) x GN elf reader

Word Count: 6K

TW: discussion of hanging, bad mother, sfw Orc fluff, a bit of melancholy with a happy ending, nonsexual mention of private body parts in the context of bathing

“Goodness, what’s this all about?” you grumbled, clutching your basket closer to you as you made your way through the crowd. 

The stench of rotten vegetables and too many people lingered in the air. 

“It’s a hanging,” a helpful imp beamed, hopping on his tiptoes to see over the crowd. Why people gathered all around to watch someone die, you had no idea, but more importantly, the crowd was blocking your path home. Industrious vendors selling ale and popcorn wove through the throng to collect what coins they could from the event. In the capital, everyone had a hustle, and few left the chance to make some money at the table. 

“Out of the way!” You shouted, shouldering whoever was unlucky enough to be in your way. 

The voice of the city guardsman who was reading off a list of offenses to the crowd drowned yours out, but with a few well-placed shoves, you managed to make it to the front. You were looking around, trying to figure out how to get across the plaza, when you glanced up to see a familiar face. 

“It’s you!” you blurted as your eyes locked with the brilliant chartreuse irises of the Orc standing on the gallows. 

He gave you a wan smile, lifting his tied hands to wave at you. His straight nose was up in the air as if all the rabble around him should be fortunate to have the privilege of watching him die. The thick olive locs you remembered being long had been roughly chopped short around his ears. Still, even dressed in an ill-fitting prison jumpsuit, he had a regal air about him. His barrel chest was puffed, strong muscles peaking between the frayed fabric. 

“Fifty counts of robbery…25 counts of counterfeiting gold coins…seven counts of horse theft…”

The Orc you’d met before’s name was Saber. He’d helped you get your broken cart into town one rainy afternoon…, and then he’d also stolen your necklace, which you’d realized after he’d disappeared. 

“As per the King’s edict, If any citizen pledges to save this soul from the gallows by way of marriage, please step forth.” 

Though he was handsome, no one raised their hands to save him. Instead, they all booed. Judging by the rotten vegetables hurled at him, he seemed to have robbed almost everyone in the capital. 

“Aye!” you shouted, hiking up your pants to pull yourself onto the stage. 

The guardsmen’s eyebrows shot up when you’d straightened yourself.

“I’ll marry the sorry bastard.” 

“Are you sure? He’ll most likely rob you and run off. He’s better off dead.” 

“I have business with this one,” you informed him, snapping your fingers. “Come on then. Let’s get this over with.” 

The guardsman shrugged and jerked the noose off of his neck, a little disappointed. The crowd wasn’t happy either, hurling insults along with their vegetables. 

“Quiet! Quiet!” the guardsman shouted after shoving Saber forward for the “ceremony.”

He took a deep breath, jerking a notebook out of his pocket.

“Alright,” he began, snorting. “State your name for the record.” 

“(Y/N).”

“Lovely elven name,” he murmured as he jotted it down. “Now then, do you (Y/N) take this here, criminal, Saber Wintermaple to be your lawfully wedded husband?” 

You gave him a sharp nod. 

“I do.” 

He swung a lazy eye at Saber. 

“Do you Saber Wintermaple, take this kind elf to be your betrothed?” 

He gave you a bright smile. 

“I do.” 

The guardsman snapped the book closed, shoving Saber towards you. 

“I hereby declare you two duly betrothed under the King’s law. This Orc is your problem now, citizen. You’d better keep him out of trouble, or you’ll be up here next to him!”

He handed you the thick rope looped around the binding, keeping Saber’s hands tied, and waved you two off. The audience, bored without bloodshed, had already started dispersing, making it easy for you to tug Saber towards the road leading to the forest. 

“I didn’t know I made such a pleasant impression,” Saber said cheerfully, following you out of town.

You whirled around and jammed a finger in his face. 

“I wouldn’t describe it as pleasant. You owe me a gold necklace! Give it back, or you can work off the coin you owe me!” 

He chuckled.

“I’m fresh out of coins, little elf.” 

He scratched his chin and looked up, thinking. 

“I’m pretty sure I lost that necklace in a game of dice.” 

He shrugged. 

“You lost my only possession of any value in a game of dice?” 

You scrubbed your hand over your face, counting back from ten so you didn’t explode.  

“Maybe I should have let you die.”

Frowning, you looked over him from toe to head. 

“At least you look strong enough. I’m sure I can find something useful for you to do!” 

You stopped where the two of you stood in the middle of the trail and pulled a small charm from your basket. 

“I was going to use this on my coin purse since there was a thief on the loose, but it’s probably better applied to you!” 

You looped the charm around his neck, closing your eyes to whisper the spell. A gust of spirit wind, fluffed your hair as the magic twirled around Saber. When you opened your eyes again, there was a blue thread linking the two of you that only you could see. 

“What was that?” he asked, narrowing his eyes on you. 

“It’s a binding spell, so you can’t run off with my stuff again,” you explained.

His eyebrows jumped, and he tugged at the little talisman around his neck. 

“It won’t come off.” 

You nodded proudly. 

“Exactly.”

He took a moment to examine you carefully, tapping his chin again. 

“Interesting,” he murmured.  

“What? What does that mean?” 

He smiled and shrugged.

“Lead the way, spouse.” 

You sighed, turning and pulling him through the bumpy trail in the woods to your little home. When you’d fled your homeland to the Capital, you’d been lucky to find an abandoned cottage outside the city walls. It wasn’t massive, with only the basic living quarters, but it must have at some point belonged to someone’s Saber’s size, as the door and counters were much too high. You’d spent much of the money you earned selling charms and ointments, buying stools and ladders to reach things. 

“You poor thing,” Saber sighed as you passed through the magic barrier you’d cast to keep your home hidden from bandits.

“You don’t need to patronize me,” you huffed. “You’re the one almost hanged and run out of town.” 

He ignored you, looking around. 

“I feel kind of bad for stealing your necklace now that I’ve seen where you live. This place is a mess.” 

You examined your home, trying to see it through his eyes. Every available surface was covered in books, alchemy equipment, or ingredients. Even the chairs were covered in cast-off scrolls, books, or charms. 

“It’d be nice to have a workshop,” you admitted. “But that’s much too expensive.”

You straightened your slumping shoulders and lifted your chin. 

“No matter, you won’t be spending much time sitting down. I’ve got loads of things that need doing.” 

He gave you a sharp nod and held out his hands. 

“You’ll have to untie me if you want me to work.” 

Pulling a small blade from your basket, you sawed through the thick binding. Free to move as he pleased, he wrung his stiff wrists as he perused your living room. Occasionally he would pick something up, then put it down again, finally crouching to examine a bucket filled with water. 

“What are you doing?” 

He peered up at the leak in the roof that was letting rainwater drip through. 

“This needs fixing, or the roof will rot out.”

Pushing off of his knees, he turned to you. 

“How long have you been living alone?” 

You blushed, embarrassed. 

“I dunno, my whole life, I guess. The elven town where I came from didn’t have an orphanage or anything, so when I was old enough, I took off toward the capital. It took a while to get here…but here I am. I thought there would be more…I don’t know…opportunity here.” 

“How has that worked out for you? Living in a house clearly not meant for you and marrying a man on the gallows.” 

You gave him an indignant snuff. 

“At least I’m not a thief!” 

He chuckled, leaning against a bookshelf, rolling a gold coin on his knuckles. Your eyes narrowed on it, and you reached in your pocket to find you’d been relieved of your day’s earnings. 

“Hey! You stole that!” 

He laughed, revealing straight white teeth, and jingled the other coins in his pocket. 

“Don’t worry, I can’t get away with it, right?” 

You sucked in a deep annoyed breath. 

“I have things to do. Make yourself useful and chop some wood. It’s going to be cold when the sun sets.” 

“Whatever you say, spouse,” he replied, giving you a sarcastic salute as you dropped your basket and hurried to the kitchen to get started on dinner. 

What had you been thinking marrying a criminal? You paused for a moment, eyes growing misty. You didn’t really think he still had your necklace, did you? You let out a sigh just short of a sob. Were you really that lonely? Maybe it hurt that he’d been so kind to you, just to trick you. You should have been happy to see him hanged, yet the lingering magic that followed all elves had whispered that you ought to save him. 

But why? You weren’t in any position to support a husband. Though you’d instructed yourself on the knowledge of various potions and charms, you weren’t the only one. The city was teaming with Academy-bred alchemists who far surpassed your skill. They had access to rare ingredients and an army of assistants. You had to scrape out a living selling your wares far cheaper than the competition even to get noticed at the market. Hustling day to day, you certainly didn’t have the time or money to pretty yourself up to find a partner. 

“Stupid, stupid, stupid,” you grumbled, returning to chopping tubers for soup. 

A thick THWACK, drew your eyes out the kitchen window to Saber splitting logs across the lawn. He’d divested himself of his ratty shirt, and every thick muscle was on display as he lifted the ax over his head and dropped it down again. The logs felt apart like they were nothing more than twigs under his might. 

Your eye focused on the dark, wet slashes across his shoulder blades where his jailors had beaten him. He must have felt your eyes on him because he glanced up and waved. Blushing, you hurriedly pulled the curtains, returning to your task. 

Unable to get his injuries out of your mind, you felt bad for making him chop wood while he was hurt. When you’d plopped the tubers into your cooking pot, you gathered up some healing and numbing salves, making your way out the door. 

“Need something?” he asked, looking up from his task. 

“Sit down,” you barked. 

A thick eyebrow rose, and he tipped his head. 

“Why? Planning on lobbing my head off?” 

You wrinkled your nose at him. 

“No, of course not! You’re massive. How would I even go about burying your body? I can’t have a rotting corpse stinking up the place. Just sit!” 

He leaned his axe against the stump he was using to brace the wood and sat down on it. You dug in your basket, pulling out some cleanser to clean the wounds. Beside the big ugly gashes, Saber’s skin was a smooth, pretty green, the planes of his muscles sharp and defined. The first brush of your hand on his back made him jump. 

“S-sorry,” you muttered.

“‘Ts fine. Just not used to people touching me. Go on.” 

You spread the thick gel you used carefully over each angry line. 

“What do you mean? You’ve never had a partner before me?” 

He paused for a moment before he jerked his head. 

“I had a girlfriend once, but she left me.” 

“Why?” 

“Some noble offered her his hand and well…I couldn’t compete.”

He sighed. 

“She was happy to keep me on as her side piece, but I’ve got too much of an ego to be someone’s toy.” 

Your eyebrows jumped at his candor, but you just hummed, plastering clean wraps to his skin so the wounds could heal. His skin was warm under your fingers, making the tips tingle. When you were done, you found yourself tipping forward on your toes to peck the back of his neck. When you’d realized what you’d done, your ears burned, and you coughed loudly. 

“Sorry, ah…sorry,” you muttered, unsure what to say. “You’re…ah…going to have to sleep on your stomach, so you don’t make these worse.” 

He swiveled around to look at you, smiling. 

“Thanks, doc!”

“I’m not a doctor.” 

He shrugged. 

“What’s the difference?” 

“Ten years of special-”

You shook your head, realizing he was teasing you.

“I think that’s enough wood for tonight. Come inside. Dinner’s almost ready.” 

He grinned at you, his stomach grumbling, as he scooped up some of the wood he’d cut and tucked it under one arm. You wondered how much they let him eat in prison, worried he was starving. 

“What’d my sweet little spouse cook for me?” he asked. 

“Just some sweet potato soup. It’s not gourmet.” 

He frowned. 

“No meat?” 

You blinked at him. 

“You have all the money I made today in your pocket. How can I afford meat with those few coins?” 

He nodded, appearing to be thinking through the problem thoroughly. 

When you returned inside, you dipped the two of you bowls of soup, filling his twice as much as yours. You assured yourself it was because he couldn’t work without proper nutrition, not because you liked him. 

“So how far does this magic thingie let me go?” he asked as you sat down at the table. 

“Why, trying to run off?” 

He smirked. 

“No, why would I want to run away from you?” 

He chewed on a big spoonful of sweet potatoes before he continued. 

“I’ve got a cute little spouse who makes me dinner and kisses my cuts.” 

Your cheeks blew up in flames, and you choked on a mouthful of soup. You tried to retain your composure by quickly wiping your mouth with a napkin. 

“A couple of miles in any direction.” 

“Wow, didn’t think you’d give me such a long leash.” 

You shrugged. 

“I can’t be right at your side every minute.” 

He gave you the biggest puppy dog eyes you’d ever seen. 

“You don’t want me by your side every minute of the day?” 

Unsure if he was joking or not, you jerked your spoon at his soup. 

“Let’s…stop talking for a while. Eat up. You’ll need your strength.” 

While the two of you ate quietly, you did your best to keep your eyes on your bowl. Every time you happened to glance up, he was watching you with an odd smile on his face. Almost like satisfaction. 

You were relieved when you finally finished and could turn your back on him to rinse the dishes. 

“You can take the bed if you want,” you called over your shoulder as you stood on your tip toes to return the bowls to the cabinet. As your arm stretched, Saber appeared behind you, plucking the dishes out of your hand and easily placing them where they were supposed to go. 

“Where are you going to sleep?” he asked, extending a hand to help you off of the little ladder you were perched on. 

“There’s a couch in the living room.” 

He wrinkled his nose. 

“It’s covered in stuff.” 

You shrugged, trying to hurry past him. 

“I’ll clean it up.”

You found your feet swinging in the air as he picked you up and tossed you over his shoulder. 

“Wh-what are you doing?” 

“My spouse is not sleeping on the sofa. I never thought I’d have a spouse, so I’ve got to take proper care of you.” 

He patted your butt for emphasis. 

“Are you crazy?” you snapped, only not banging on his back with your fists because he was injured. “We can’t sleep together! We just met!” 

Your body bounced on his shoulder as he chuckled. 

“You weren’t concerned with that when you insisted on marrying me!” 

“They were going to kill you!” 

He flopped you down on your bed, caging you in with his big arms. His head dipped to drag the tip of his nose along the length of your neck. 

“So you do like me!” he whispered into your skin. 

“I do not,” you huffed, pushing his chest.

Though your muscles did nothing to move him, he rose so you could scoot out across the bed. You quickly scrambled into the bathroom to change into your pajamas. 

When you came back out, Saber was slipping off his pants. 

“What are you doing now?” You gasped, cheeks heating at the sight of the thick shaft hanging between his legs.  

He glanced up, a slight smirk on his face as he folded his clothes. 

“I can't sleep in these prison clothes. I'll get the sheets all dirty!” 

You sighed, rubbing your eyes. He was right. He was filthy from sleeping on dirty straw in prison. 

“Come on,” you said, flicking two fingers at him. “You need a bath. You’re probably covered in fleas! 

Fortunately, your house came equipped with one large enough to fit Saber’s big body. With a flick of your fingers, the tub was filled, and with a few whispers of a spell, the water was hot. 

“Get in,” you said. 

Making himself comfortable, he looked back at you over his shoulder, an eyebrow raised. 

“You tryin’ to watch? Naughty little elf!” 

You let out a long sigh. 

“No, I’m just going to ensure you don’t get your bandages wet, or it will all have been a waste. Supplies are expensive,” you huffed, picking up the sponge. “Now, sit still!”

Saber smirked but let you lift each of his arms as you scrubbed him. 

“So how did your old girlfriend take it when you decided you wouldn’t be your affair partner?”

He glanced at you, eyes ever thoughtful. His long look brought heat to your cheeks. 

“Sorry, you don’t have to answer that.” 

He shrugged, his jaw tightening. 

“She was rather smug. She spent her whole life wishing to elevate herself.” 

A long sigh slipped past his lips. 

“I could never make her happy. I lied, cheated, stole; whatever I could do…but she looked down her nose at all of it.”

Your mouth fell open. 

“I’m…I’m sorry. You don’t have to…”

He waved a thick hand, his warm palm gently landing on your head and lightly ruffling your hair. 

“Think nothing of it. It’s kind of nice to get it off my chest.” 

“So that’s why you're a crook? To make her happy?”

He smirked. 

“I was a crook. Now I’m a married man. I can’t get into trouble. I have a spouse who relies on me.” 

He pinched your chin. 

“Prison was difficult enough without knowing I was missing out on such a cute little face. Now, it would crush me.” 

Your cheeks burned even hotter, and you jerked your head away, grabbing the nearest towel and tossing it to him. 

“Careful, don’t jostle your bandages,” you wheezed before making your escape. “Whoever lived here before left some clothes in the chest by the door. They ought to fit.” 

You were so busy slowing your beating heart that you blew out the lantern and slid into your bed without thinking Saber would soon follow. You squeezed your eyes shut, trying to feign sleep, when you heard his heavy footsteps approach. He paused for a moment, doing Goddess knows what, before he carefully laid down next to you. 

The mattress dipped under his weight, and your body slid into his. You heard him draw in a sharp breath as your warm forms pressed together. 

“Mind your wounds. Make sure you sleep on your side,” you whispered into the darkness. 

You felt him adjust slightly, and then a heavy arm draped over your waist. Despite yourself, it was warm and the weight felt nice. Comforting. Now that he’d used your soap, he smelled like home. His breath brushed the hairs on your neck and another arm slid underneath you to use as a pillow. You would have pulled away, but you’d never slept so close to someone before. 

Living on the street for most of your life, left you with scars. You didn’t realize how deep they’d cut you until Saber’s large body curled around yours. You felt safe. 

When you woke the next morning, the bed next to you was empty. Your heart thumped heavily in your chest, wondering where he’d gone. Had it all been a dream? 

The pile of dirty prison clothes folded and placed on top of a chest proved that it had not. 

Breathing slowly, in the meditation you’d taught yourself, you stretched your awareness out, reaching for the blue thread. Saber was half a mile from you. You wondered what he could possibly be doing. 

“Orc things, probably,” you muttered, making your way to the bathroom to clean yourself up. 

It wasn’t like he could run off; there was nothing in that direction but trees. Through the window, you could see the sun up over the tree line, telling you that you’d slept much later than usual. 

Usually, you’d have left at sunrise to sell your wares in the Capital market, but it was far too late now. Instead, you grabbed an apple from the kitchen and started fussing with your alchemy materials. Now that Saber was living with you, you were sure you needed to straighten up so he didn’t break something. 

Walking across the room, you automatically skipped around the bucket on the floor; only the bucket was gone. You frowned, but looking at the ceiling, someone had replaced one of the boards with a fresh one. Had Saber done that while you were sleeping? 

You huffed, returning to straightening your books. At least he’s putting himself to work. 

You were trying to remember the order in which a pair of books written in ancient elven were arranged alphabetically when the bell above your door jingled. 

Since your home was hidden with magic, the bell told you someone was nearby. It was a charm you rarely used. No one had any reason to look for you. The most it had rung was when you ordered a special cauldron or tomb and happened to have the cash to have it delivered. 

Curious if a traveler was lost, you put your books down and wandered outside. 

“Morning, spouse!” 

Saber’s voice made you jump when he appeared hauling a deer on his shoulders. 

“What’s that?” 

He shrugged the creature off of his shoulders. 

“Meat!” he announced proudly. 

You nodded at him, your eyes catching on his bare chest, glazed with a sheen of sweat. 

“Where are you off to?” he asked. 

“Someone is here,” you murmured, forcing your gaze from the sharp planes of his muscles to continue down the path. 

A shadow draped over you, and you glanced up to see him looming. 

“What are you doing?” 

“I’m going with you. It could be someone dangerous.” 

You shook your head but continued on your way with him in tow. 

“Helloooo? Helllloooo?” 

A female voice was screaming through the trees. When you rounded the bend, your eyes landed on an expensive carriage and a beautiful fairy shouting at the top of her lungs.  Her pink hair fell in glittering curls around her shoulders, and matching wings emerged from her back.

“Damn it! Saber! Where the fuck are you?” 

“Can I help you?” you asked as you stepped through your magic barrier. 

Her eyes narrowed, but not on you. She looked directly behind you. 

“Saber! There you are!” 

She grinned, fluttering her winds and flying past you. Irritation immediately pricked your heart as the woman threw her arms around him. Turning around, you found him looking at her with wide eyes. 

“Melody…what are you doing here? How did you find me?” 

“I’m here to see you, of course. I heard you were going to be hung, but an elf saved you! I asked around the market and was told you’d been taken here. I was so worried!” 

When she cupped his chin with her delicate hand, you crossed your arms, eyes narrowing. 

“Not someone. Me.” you interjected. 

You marched towards Saber and grabbed him by the arm. 

“Saber is my husband. Who are you?” 

She wrinkled her nose at you, ignoring your question. Her hand slid down Saber’s chest despite you. 

“Is there someplace we can talk? Privately?” 

Saber’s shocked face tightened. 

“I don’t think that’s an appropriate ask in front of my spouse, Melody.” 

She scoffed. 

“You’ve been married…what? 8 hours? Saber, I think I more than deserve a little of your time. Especially as the mother of your child.” 

Your jaw dropped, and your hand pulled away from Saber. It was true, you’d only known him for a few hours, but a child was something he ought to have mentioned. 

His brow drew, looking between you and her. 

“What child?” 

She huffed, frowning at you. 

“Fine…If you must do this, this way.” 

She turned to the carriage and yelled. 

“Nora, bring the baby!” 

A maid climbed out of the carriage holding a small whimpering bundle. You gasped as the woman presented Saber with a little green newborn. 

Saber’s eyes popped, his mouth opening and closing as the maid pressed the child into his hands. 

“This…he…is mine?” 

Melody nodded. 

“Yes, and it’s time for you to take responsibility.” 

He glanced up at her. 

“You want to get back together?” 

She let out a cruel but trilling laugh. 

“Oh heavens no. I need you to take him. Dante hasn’t seen him yet. He thinks I’ve delivered his child. I had the maids tell him I was recovering for the past month so I could sneak him out. If he finds out I’ve been carrying your baby this whole time, he’ll throw me out on the street!” 

Anger roiled under your skin. 

“So what baby are you going to present to him?” you demanded. 

She snorted as if that were a foolish question. 

“I’ll get a baby from the slums. Plenty of mothers would happily give their child the life of a Lord’s son without question.”

She fluttered her iridescent wings. 

“It only need be a fairy child.” 

You could see the pain and confusion settle on Saber’s face. Stepping between the two of them, you gently pried the bundle out of Saber’s hands, looking at his cute little button nose and glossy baby curls. 

“Of course, we will take him, but on one condition.” 

She glanced at you. 

“What do you want? Money?”

You let out a tight chuff. 

“No. We never want to see you again. If he is our baby, he is ours. Don’t think you can change your mind and come running back here looking for him or Saber. The second you step foot in your carriage, this child and my husband are dead to you.” 

Her eyes jerked to Saber. 

“Saber. You can’t mean that. Of course, I want to see you…Dante, however, can’t know. You understand, don't you? This is everything we've dreamed about! You ought to support me!"

You scoffed, rolling your eyes.

"I grew up in the gutter, too," you hissed. "But I'd never treat someone the way you have treated my husband. He is too good for you and I won't tolerate you buzzing around us like a nasty fly."

She glared at you.

"He's my child! You're just jealous Saber and I have history!"

Saber's jaw locked, and he put his arm around you, giving her a disgusted grimace. 

“Have you named him?” he asked. 

She looked contrite but lifted her chin. 

“I…ah…it didn’t occur to me...” 

He nodded and glanced down at you, holding his child. 

“Then…I agree with (Y/N). You’ll never know his name. You’ll never see him grow. You’ll never return to ruin our peace.” 

“But Saber-” 

“Don’t say my husband’s name, either.” you snapped. “You thought you’d come here and drop all of your responsibilities in his lap and then keep stringing him along as a toy? It’s not going to work like that. You have your family, and we have ours.” 

You jerked your chin at her. 

“Make your choice. Either leave the child or be prepared to explain to your husband who he belongs to. Those are the only options.”

Her pretty face contorted into an ugly, wrinkled mask, and she lifted her skirt to turn on her heels. 

“Fine! It’s not like I want the child of a thief anyway!”  

Snapping at her maid, she hovered back to her carriage, and they disappeared down the road in a cloud of dust. You smiled down at the little baby, who’d managed to sleep through the drama. 

“Saber, I know I shouldn’t have spoken for you…I just- He deserves better than to grow up with the knowledge his mother believes him to be less than. Can you imagine him living as her secret? Sneaking around to hide him? If she passed him in the street, she’d ignore him to preserve her status. He’d be heartbroken. I won’t let that happen. I hope I didn’t overstep, but I’m not sorry for it.” 

He dropped to his knees, eyes wet, and pushed his head into your shoulder. His big arms wrapped around your waist, squeezing you tight.

“You said just the right thing,” he murmured, then turned his head to look at his son. “What should we name him?” 

You smiled at him. 

“Let’s talk it over over lunch.” 

The two of you walked back down the path together, both having a hard time keeping your gaze off the baby. He wriggled in his sleep, making you both see hearts.

“Maybe we should move,” you murmured. “Just to be sure…and to give him a fresh start.” 

He looked down at you. 

“You won’t miss this place?” 

You sighed. 

“No…this is just a house. We have a family now. He should grow up in a happy little town, not the capital…we’ll have to save for a few months, but I think we can do it.” 

“We don’t have to save. I have plenty of money.” 

You froze in your tracks, looking up at him.

“What? I thought you said you were broke?” 

He smiled down at you. 

“I meant I didn't have any coin on me. I didn’t just piss all of my ill-gotten gains away. I hid them. Follow me.” 

He tugged the two of you into the forest, walking quite a ways until you reached an oddly placed rock. Saber crouched down and uprooted a bush with a stiff jerk. Then he cleared the soil away, revealing a wooden chest. He turned the little dial a few ways until it clicked, and the chest opened with a creak. Your eyes widened at the hundreds of gold coins piled inside. He casually tugged the gold he’d lifted from you out of his pocket and tossed it inside with a metallic clink. 

“I think we can buy a nice place with this.” 

You were still completely confused. He rummaged around in the coins, producing the gold necklace he’d stolen. Standing, he fastened it around your neck with the nimble fingers of a thief.

“I thought you lost it gambling?” 

He shrugged. 

“I lied.” 

“Why did you keep it?” 

He gave you a long look.

“I’m not sure, to be honest. Something told me not to sell it.” 

“But…what about the rest? I thought you gave it all to Melody?” 

“I tried to…we grew up in the capital, in the same slums she wants to buy a baby from. It wasn’t ever about what I could provide her. She wanted to erase her past. She wanted a title…to be a lady, to be able to lift her nose at the very people she grew up with.

I started saving after she failed at her first attempt at seducing some highborn. At the time, I had this romantic dream that I could surprise her with a big house, start a business, and be the Lord she wanted so badly…but… as time passed, I realized I was already tainted in her eyes. She wanted the right blood attached to her money. It took me too long to be ready to pull away. Dante was the nail in the coffin, so to speak.” 

He tugged the chest from the ground, hauling it onto his shoulder before leading you back through the forest.  

“Even though I knew I wasn’t enough…I foolishly still loved her. I was a mess when he proposed. That’s why I got caught. I went on a bender that lasted most of a year…Fortunately, I never touched this. Maybe I held out hope since Melody still entertained my attention…but I got sloppy and ended up in jail.” 

His gaze dropped to the baby. 

“If it weren’t for you, I wouldn't have ever known about him. Anything could have happened to him if you hadn’t-”

He choked a bit, a couple of tears slipping down his cheek. You didn’t push him to finish his sentence. You knew what he was trying to say. 

“What about Arel?” you asked. 

“Arel? That sounds like an Elvin name.” 

You smiled at the little baby’s chubby cheeks. 

“It is…it means ‘treasure’.” 

He stopped, bending down to examine his son more closely. The baby’s eyes opened, and you saw that they were the same pretty chartreuse as his father’s. The two of them looked at one another in awe. 

“I like Arel,” he said, brushing a thick finger over his cheek. 

Arel’s big eyes grew wet, and he started to croon. 

Shock and worry bloomed on Saber’s face. 

“Is he okay?” 

“I think he’s hungry. I have some goat milk at home.” 

Saber straightened, and you had to almost jog to keep up with him, the two of you hurrying home to start your life as a family.

#orc fluff #orc husband #x reader #orc x reader #elf #monster boyfriend #monster romance #monster x reader #sweet asks #monster fluff #fantasy fluff #fantasy romance #fantasy #x gn reder #orc x gn reader #gender neutral reader #gender neutral y/n #fluff #elf fluff #orc fic #orc romance #my ocs <3 #monster lover #my ocs #my oc character #original character #sfw monster fluff #sfw romance #sfw fluff

[xtra7s]

Could you do an enemies to lovers smut for Renee rapp? I can't find anything like it for this woman, and it's been sitting in the back of my brain for WEEKS🤣

𝐁𝐫𝐨𝐚𝐝𝐰𝐚𝐲 𝐑𝐞𝐮𝐧𝐢𝐨𝐧

Pairing: Renee Rapp x gn!reader

Sypnosis: Renee and Y/N, past broadway rivals, meet again at a party.

Content: Renee Rapp x gn!reader, fingering, cunnilingus, alcohol

Word Count: 2.7k

a/n: sorry there isnt much enemy to lover action, im completely writer blocked and I hope you enjoy. Not proofread

masterlist

The room pulsed with energy, and at the center of it all, Renee Rapp held court. Her laughter rang out like a melody, drawing attention from all corners of the glamorous party. Suddenly, a familiar figure appeared in the crowd, and the atmosphere shifted. Y/N, now 23, stood there, an unspoken challenge in their gaze.

"Well, well, if it isn't Y/N," Renee smirked, her eyes narrowing playfully. "Thought you'd be off somewhere trying to steal the spotlight again."

Y/N chuckled, unfazed by Renee's jab. "You know me, always craving the attention you seem to think you deserve."

The tension between them crackled like electricity, the memories of their past rivalry bubbling to the surface. They exchanged pleasantries with false smiles, each word laced with underlying competition.

"Still riding on that role you stole from me, Rapp?" Y/N quipped, a sly grin playing on their lips.

Renee leaned in, her tone dripping with sarcasm. "Oh, please. I didn't steal it; I earned it. Unlike some people who rely on sympathy and mediocre talent."

The banter continued, their words cutting deeper with each exchange. It was as if the years had melted away, and they were back on the Broadway stage, fighting for the same spotlight. The party became a battleground, and every smile, every gesture, was a carefully calculated move in their ongoing verbal duel.

The party raged on, the music pulsating through the crowded room. As the night wore on, the competitive banter between Renee Rapp and Y/N took an unexpected turn. Glasses clinked, inhibitions faded, and the tension transformed into a different kind of electricity.

"Admit it, Y/N," Renee slurred playfully, leaning in closer. "You always secretly admired my talent. It's okay; I get it."

Y/N's eyes sparkled with mischief as they responded, "Oh, please. I only admired how you managed to talk your way into roles you had no business getting."

Laughter erupted between them, a shared understanding weaving through the alcohol-induced haze. The lines between rivalry and attraction blurred as they engaged in a tipsy dance of words and glances.

Somewhere in the midst of the chaos, they found themselves in a quieter corner, away from the prying eyes of the party. The air was thick with laughter and a lingering tension that seemed to pull them closer.

"I'll have you know," Renee began, her tone low and teasing, "I could still outshine you on any stage, even in this state."

Y/N chuckled, the sound rich and warm. "Challenge accepted, Rapp. But first, can we agree that we were both robbed of that role we fought over?"

Renee's eyes softened, and she nodded, a shared nostalgia washing over them. "Yeah, maybe we were both deserving. Broadway politics can be brutal."

As the night deepened, the flirtatious banter continued, their words becoming increasingly laced with innuendo. The competitive edge now carried a hint of something more, a mutual attraction that had been buried beneath years of rivalry.

"I have to admit," Y/N admitted, their gaze locking with Renee's, "you clean up well when you're not trying to sabotage my career."

Renee smirked, leaning in even closer. "Maybe I should sabotage something else instead."

The playful banter took a more seductive turn, and the air became charged with a different kind of energy. It was as if the years of rivalry had paved the way for a newfound connection – one that went beyond the stage and into the realm of shared secrets and stolen glances.

The raucous sounds of the party faded into a distant hum as Renee Rapp and Y/N slipped away, finding refuge in the dimly lit hallway leading to the bathroom. Y/N shot a mischievous smile at Renee, a glint of playfulness in their eyes.

"I need a moment to touch up my makeup," Y/N said, their voice low and suggestive.

Renee raised an eyebrow, a smirk playing on her lips. "Well, I'm not one to let someone go to the bathroom alone, especially if they might be up to something."

Y/N chuckled, leading the way into the bathroom. The air was charged with anticipation, and the fluorescent lights flickered overhead as they entered the small space. Y/N turned to face the mirror, pretending to focus on their makeup, but their eyes locked with Renee's in the reflection.

"You know," Y/N teased, their voice a sultry whisper, "I never thought I'd find myself in a bathroom with you. The stuff of dreams, really."

Renee chuckled, closing the distance between them. "Dreams do come true, especially when you least expect them."

As Y/N applied lipstick, Renee couldn't resist the temptation. She gently turned Y/N around, their eyes locking with an intensity that sent shivers down both their spines. The playful banter had shifted into a charged moment of unspoken desire.

Renee, with a smirk that conveyed both confidence and mischief, pushed Y/N gently against the bathroom wall. Y/N's breath caught, their heartbeat echoing in the confined space. The flirtatious tension reached its peak as Renee leaned in, her lips dangerously close to Y/N's ear.

"You talk a big game, Y/N," Renee whispered, her warm breath sending shivers down Y/N's spine. "But I wonder if you can handle me."

Before Y/N could respond, Renee closed the remaining distance, capturing Y/N's lips in a passionate kiss. The bathroom seemed to fade away, and all that remained was the electric connection between them. Y/N responded eagerly, their hands finding their way to Renee's jaw, as Renee holds their waist.

The kiss was a blend of years of rivalry, newfound attraction, and the intoxication of the night. The world outside the bathroom ceased to exist as Renee and Y/N lost themselves in the heat of the moment.

As they finally pulled away, breathless and flushed, the playful banter had transformed into a silent understanding. The bathroom had become a secret haven for a connection that went beyond the stage, leaving both Renee and Y/N wondering what the encore of this unexpected night would bring.

The remnants of their passionate kiss lingered in the air as Renee and Y/N pulled away, their eyes locking in a shared moment of realization. A playful grin played on Renee's lips as she looked into Y/N's eyes.

"Feisty," Renee remarked, her voice low and teasing. "But I have a feeling the night is just getting started. How about we continue this at my place, hm?"

Y/N's heart raced at the suggestion, a mix of excitement and curiosity dancing in their eyes. "And why should I be inclined to go, Rapp?"

Renee leaned in, her breath warm against Y/N's ear. "My place isn't too far from here. It's quieter, and we can continue our little encore without any interruptions."

A sly smile tugged at Y/N's lips. "Should I be concerned?"

Renee chuckled, her fingers lightly tracing Y/N's jawline. "Only if you can't handle a little adventure. Besides, it's just a short cab ride away. What do you say?"

Y/N hesitated for a moment, the magnetic pull between them undeniable. "Lead the way, Rapp. Let's see what kind of encore you have in mind."

As they exited the bathroom, the party continued to buzz around them, oblivious to the clandestine connection that had formed. Renee intertwined her fingers with Y/N's, leading them through the crowd with an air of confidence. The night held the promise of something unpredictable, and neither of them could resist the allure of what awaited at Renee's house.

Outside, the city lights shimmered, casting a romantic glow on the streets. Renee hailed a cab, and as they slid into the backseat, the anticipation grew. The ride was filled with stolen glances and the lingering heat of their earlier encounter.

Arriving at Renee's apartment, the door closed behind them, sealing the promise of a night filled with passion and shared secrets. As they stepped into the dimly lit space, the chemistry between Renee and Y/N ignited once again, setting the stage for an encore that would be remembered long after the final curtain fell.

As soon as the door closed behind them, Renee couldn't resist the temptation any longer. She pressed Y/N against it, her hands sliding up their waist and pulling them closer. Y/N let out a gasp, their hands gripping onto Renee's shoulders as they looked up at her with hunger in their eyes.

Renee kissed down their neck, nibbling on the sensitive skin and earning a moan from Y/N's lips. She had always been fascinated by the way someone's reactions could change when she kissed different spots on their body.

"Bedroom" Renee murmured, pulling Y/N by her right hand to Renee's bedroom. Renee pushed Y/N gently onto her bed, their bodies sinking into the soft mattress. She climbed on top of them, her lips never leaving their skin as she kissed and nipped along their jawline, down their neck, and across their collarbone.

Y/N's hands roamed up Renee's back, pulling her closer as they let out soft moans. The room was filled with the sound of their heavy breathing and the occasional gasp as Renee's lips found new spots to explore.

Renee's hands slid under Y/N's shirt, her fingers trailing over their skin and eliciting shivers from Y/N's body. She leaned in to capture Y/N's lips in a deep kiss, their tongues dancing together in perfect rhythm.

As the kiss intensified, Renee's hand traveled lower until she reached the waistband of Y/N's pants. She paused for a moment, silently asking for permission before continuing. Y/N responded by arching into her touch and pulling her even closer.

Their clothes were soon discarded in a frenzy of passion, each touch sending sparks through their bodies. They explored each other with an urgency that couldn't be contained any longer.

With each passing moment, the intensity between Renee and Y/N only grew stronger. They were lost in each other, their bodies moving together in a perfect rhythm.

Renee's lips trailed down Y/N's chest, leaving a trail of kisses and bites along the way. She stopped to pay special attention to their breasts, kneading them roughly as she attached her lips to one of Y/N's nipples.

Y/N let out a gasp, their hands gripping onto Renee's hair as they arched into her touch. The sensation was overwhelming, causing them to moan loudly and lose themselves in the pleasure.

As Renee continued to lavish attention on Y/N's body, her hand traveled down between their legs. She ran a finger through Y/N's folds, teasing them with gentle strokes before delving deeper.

Y/N's hips bucked against her hand, their breath coming in short gasps as they became lost in pleasure. Renee slipped two fingers into them, increasing the pressure and speed until Y/N was writhing beneath her.

The room was filled with the sounds of their moans and heavy breathing as they moved together in perfect harmony. Renee knew exactly how to touch Y/N to drive them wild, and she took great pleasure in doing so.

Their eyes met for a moment before Y/N leaned down to capture Renee's lips in a passionate kiss. Their bodies moved together with a newfound urgency, both desperate for release.

Renee moved Y/N up the bed with no resistance from them. She trailed kisses and gentle bites down their body until she reached their thighs. Gently, she hiked their legs up onto her shoulders, exposing them completely to her.

Y/N let out a gasp as Renee's lips found a particularly sensitive spot on their inner thigh, sending shivers through their body. They could feel the heat building between their legs as Renee continued to leave a trail of kisses and bites along their thighs.

Without warning, Renee's tongue darted out and flicked over Y/N's clit, causing them to cry out in pleasure. She continued to work her tongue expertly on Y/N's most sensitive area, alternating between soft licks and hard sucking motions.

Y/N's hands gripped onto the sheets as waves of pleasure washed over them. They were completely at Renee's mercy, lost in the sensations coursing through their body.

As Renee continued to pleasure Y/N with her mouth, her hand slipped upwards to find its way inside of them once again. She worked her fingers in perfect rhythm with her tongue, driving Y/N closer and closer to the edge.

With one final thrust of her fingers and a flick of her tongue, Renee brought Y/N over the edge into a mind-blowing orgasm. They cried out in ecstasy as they rode out the waves of pleasure coursing through their body.

Renee didn't stop there though. She continued to kiss and lick at Y/N's sensitive areas, prolonging their pleasure until they couldn't take it anymore.

Finally, when Y/N was spent and breathless from their release, Renee made her way back up their body to capture their lips in a deep kiss once again. Their bodies were still humming with energy as they kissed each other passionately.

Renee's body was still humming with pleasure from Y/N's expert touch, but she couldn't resist the invitation in their words. "Let me make you feel good, Renee," they murmured, their voice filled with desire.

With a lazy smile, Renee shifted over to give Y/N more space on the bed. She watched as they trailed a hand down her naked body, causing shivers to run down her spine.

Their lips found hers in a sloppy kiss as their hand continued its journey downwards. Renee gasped into their mouth as their fingers brushed against her sensitive skin.

Without hesitation, Y/N slipped their hand between Renee's legs, finding her wet and ready for them. They rubbed her clit gently before slipping a finger inside of her. Renee moaned into the kiss as pleasure shot through her body. They knew exactly how to touch her, and she could feel herself getting lost in the sensations.

Their kiss became more urgent as Y/N added another finger, thrusting them in and out of her with perfect rhythm. She could feel the heat building within her once again, and she knew it wouldn't be long before she reached the edge.

Y/N broke the kiss and looked into Renee's eyes with a mischievous grin. "Do you want me to make you cum baby?" they murmured against Y/N's lips.

Renee let out a pathetic yes, unable to form any sentences as pleasure consumed her body. Y/N leaned down to capture one of their nipples in their mouth, sucking on it gently while their fingers continued to work their magic between her legs.

It didn't take long before Renee was crying out in pleasure, waves of ecstasy washing over her body. She clung onto Y/N tightly as she rode out the intense orgasm that had been building within her.

As Renee came down from her high, she pulled Y/N up to her level and captured their lips in a passionate but lazy kiss. She could taste herself on their lips and it only added to the feeling of intimacy between them.

Renee reached over to grab a discarded blanket from the floor and pulled it over them, covering their naked bodies. She held Y/N close to her, enjoying the warmth and closeness.

"God, that was amazing," Y/N murmured against her lips, still catching their breath.

Renee smiled and brushed a strand of hair out of Y/N's face. "You were amazing," she whispered back.

They fell into a comfortable silence, content with just being in each other's arms. Renee couldn't remember the last time she had felt so relaxed.

Eventually, they drifted off into a peaceful sleep, their limbs intertwined and breathing in sync.

#renee rapp #renee rapp x reader #the sex lives of college girls #leighton murray #leighton murray x reader #lgbtq #mean girls #regina george x reader #wlw #lesbian

[blackopals-world]

Crowley: I scheduled this parent-teacher conference to be frank with all of you. I somehow expected that the next generation you produced would be better then the fathers you chose to procreate with. But somehow you each managed to compound what was wrong with both of you to create hellspawns. Now let's go down the list of each offender. Starting with the Trappola twins, Jojo and Koko. They shattered the very same chandelier his parents did.

Jester!Yuu: (giggling) They are usually so well behaved. Please don't hold it against them.

Crowley: Baishan, the raccoon has singlehandedly robbed the entirety of Octavinelle.

Chef!Yuu:(smiling cheerfully) He's just like his father. I've been trying to get him to use his cooking knowledge to work at the lounge.

Crowley: Nuru unleashed a plague of fleas after not being chosen as head of the Spelldrive team.

Vet!Yuu: I don't condone his behavior. He's competitive like Leona but that is no excuse. We will talk to him. But the fleas are lab-raised and don't carry illnesses.

Crowley: Violetta Ashengrotto is currently running an illegal gambling ring somewhere on campus and I still can't find where she is hiding it. I can't even punish her for it without evidence.

Marine Biologist:(dressed like an Italian mob wife) What I'm hearing is that she is being accused without evidence. My little pearl is innocent.

Crowley: Molly Schoenheit, set fire to the stage after challenging the LeBlanche girl during the regional talent show.

Gardener!Yuu: I blame the stagehands and the promoter. They were told explicitly to keep the girls away from each other. But her father gave her a good earful after what happened, after raising her allowance behind my back. She can't go to that concert anymore though.

Crowley: Regent Hunt is a duplicate of his father. He's been spotted stalking students.

Special Forces!Yuu: Spotted?! He is in big trouble! No son of mine would be spotted during a mission! His father would be aghast to hear this.

Crowley: Neo Shroud despite not being the recluse his father was has chosen a path of being a criminal. I know he's the one extorting me not this shadow hacktivist organization. He has my credit cards, social security number and I know he's the one running that parody account of me on social media.

Otaku!Yuu: Prove it.

Crowley: (sigh) And then there is Merlyn...do I even need to say anything? Honestly, I fully expected better from you. You married Floyd! Of all people him?! I wish I objected sooner.

Nurse!Yuu: My son is...a curious sort.

Crowley: He's a hazard to society. He starts fights just so he can patch people up.

Nurse!Yuu: Like I said he just wants to learn more about biology.

Crowley: I just wish your children were a little less troublesome. Was that too much to hope for?

#yuuniverse #special forces!yuu #jester!yuu #chef!yuu #vet!yuu #marine biologist!yuu #nurse!yuu #ace trappola x reader #otaku!yuu #gardener!yuu #vil shoenheit x reader #idia shroud x reader #ruggie x reader #rook hunt x reader #leona kingsholar x reader #azul ashengrotto x reader #twisted wonderland incorrect quotes #twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #twst dire crowley #twst oc #twisted wonderland oc

[eldritch-thrumming]

imagine: it’s been years since Eddie and Steve have seen each other. Eddie still keeps in touch with the Party, with Robin and Nancy and Jonathan and Argyle, but for whatever reason, neither him nor Steve have made a massive effort to stay in touch. Eddie can’t help but feel like he maybe had missed out on something, that he’d been too quick to leave, too quick to write it off as unimportant, meaningless, a fleeting crush. It’s okay. It’s fine now.

Because Eddie has the life he’s always dreamed of. He travels the world, gets paid to play his guitar in front of crowds that scream his lyrics back at him, dates celebrities, and sees things he couldn’t have even imagined back in that Hawkins trailer park. He doesn’t regret much. He can’t, when everything has led him here.

He’s just released his third studio album and it’s been a commercial and critical success. He’d tried something a little different with this project, something a little outside his comfort zone. He’s never been known for his love songs, but he couldn’t help himself this time. He just had so much he’d never had the chance to say until now.

Eddie loves the Grammys. It’s a fun night, full of fellow musicians who care deeply about what they do. He’ll never get used to being in the same place as his idols, the voices he used to listen to when he’d dream of getting the hell out of small-time, small town Indiana.

He’s got a date on his arm this year, a handsome actor who’d just had a film premier in Venice. Eddie loves the attention, knows the fans are speculating about which songs on the new album are about Rob and their relationship. It’s not hard to act like they’re in love; Rob is beautiful, tanned and golden and smiling big for the cameras. It’s easy to fuel the rumors, to make eyes at each other like they think no one is looking. Eddie lives for this kind of thing, loves to put on a show. He kisses Rob right there on the red carpet, like he doesn’t care who’s watching them, like he just can’t help himself.

He’s up for a whole bunch of awards tonight. Album of the Year, Song of the Year, Best Metal Performance…. Eddie’s skin is buzzing, a dull thrum of excitement just under the surface.

Halfway through the ceremony, Eddie wins his first award for his performance in Las Vegas earlier in the year on tour promoting the new album. He doesn’t have a speech prepared, hadn’t wanted to jinx anything by over-preparing, and now he’s nervous he’ll forget someone and not have another chance to tell the world how he’s gotten here.

Eddie’s smiling big when he takes the stage. His face feels stretched, his cheeks hurting. He feels like his body can’t hold all his excitement inside him, all the feelings of love and amazement that threaten to burst through his skin.

He thanks Wayne and the Party first, clutching his trophy in his sweaty fist. They’re the ones that really got him here, the ones that made him believe he was worth saving. The ones that made all this possible.

Then he thanks his management. His agents and producers and tour managers, all the people that make the logistics of touring possible, that give him the ability to do what he loves.

There’s one last person to thank. His PR team had told both him and Rob to lean into the relationship, to embrace the spectacle, and there was nothing Eddie loved more than performing for a captive audience. He looks out into the crowd and finds Rob smiling up at him from his seat. He looks perfect, tan and beautiful, and it reminds Eddie of someone he used to know.

“And to the man who’s inspired every song on this album,” he feels his lips spread into another smile, sees the camera from the corner of his eye and imagines how goofy he must look on screen. He wonders who might be watching, if the person he’s been thinking about for the last ten years even knows he’s winning an award right now. “Stevie baby, thank you, darling.”

There are confused grumbles from the crowd and for just a second, Eddie doesn’t understand. But then he glances at where Rob sits in the crowd, his smile plastic and forced, and he realizes what he’s said. The wrong name. The name of a ghost. The name of a person who only exists for him in his memories.

Eddie’s legs feel numb. His chest starts to ache and his hands feel hollow. Horror spreads through him as he hears the music start to play. The presenters gently usher him backstage, push him toward the darkness, away from the cameras. He stands there out of sight for several moments, frozen, rooted to the spot he’s been left in, before a familiar figure steps into his eye-line.

“Eddie,” Rob says, sounding both surprised and irritated. “What the fuck?”

the question pounds my head, what’s a lifetime of achievement if i pushed you to the edge but you were too polite to leave me? do you miss the rogue that coaxed you into paradise and left you there? will you forgive my soul when you’re too wise to trust me but too old to care?

part one

#coney island inspired Steddie #steddie #steddie fic #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie fanfiction #steddie fanfic #sorry to everyone who commented on the other one asking to be tagged I’m on my phone!!!!!! #i literally am writing these on my phone so pls forgive me #famous Eddie in a PR relationship truther

[dduane]

From the Writing Advice dep't: A complicated ask, a serial answer (part 1)

Every now and then I get an ask in the box that's complex enough that it has to be taken apart and answered in pieces. Also, sometimes I get queries in that are painful enough (in varying ways) that I elect not to attribute them when answering. This one is both.

I read the ask (and reread it, and rereread it, four or five or six times after it came in, and a bunch more times while I was on my back this week being sick), and gradually came to realize that for it to be properly handled I had no choice but to break it into pieces for best management.

There are three main strands to the issues this ask brings up: motivation, growth as a writer, and coping with or succeeding despite the current state of the publishing industry.

So let's dig in. Here's the first part of the ask:

I know there's no One True Path, but I'm struggling with this, and I'm sure others are too, so I'll just ask it. I want to make a career out of writing, but with shrinking attention spans and so much content to mindlessly consume, how do you keep the motivation to write? My friends get mad at me for getting discouraged when not even they read my writing. They get mad and say, "write for yourself, not for the validation!"

Welp. (sigh)

First of all, I think your friends are absolutely right. But we'll come back to that.

You have to understand that as far as the Search for Motivation goes, I'm probably Spiders DD, the outlier who seriously should not have been counted. I have been motivated to write stuff pretty much nonstop since I was eight, and did my first novel in crayon in a school notebook. (It was one of the thick notebooks. The ones with the black and white marbled covers. Most of you who come of US schools know the kind.)

So I'm really the wrong person to be asking about this, especially since it's now nearly the Year of our (Wood!) Dragon 4722, which would make me nearly, uh, six Years of the Dragon old. And being of such age, and a career midlist genre writer, I have the same source of motivation as the vast majority of my similarly-aged colleagues: the need to write or starve. (There's an Irish saying perfectly descriptive of my situation: "Too old to dig ditches and too scared to rob banks." That's my situation exactly. There's nothing left for me to do but to write.) :)

...Anyway, it's kind of amazing how that kind of motivation'll focus your intention, and help you keep it in place, once you're been working with it for a while.

At the beginning of a career, though, things can look a lot different as you start getting a handle on exactly what it is you like to write and why you like writing it. And having another job to keep you afloat while you find your way is seriously a very good idea if you can manage it.

It sounds very much to me as if you're still in the early "finding your way" stages. This is a place that a lot of writers pass through, so don't be concerned. It's rare for sudden perfect motivation-to-write to crystallize out of nothing. And never forget, the word itself is based on old Latin roots for movement, and provokes the question, "Yeah, okay, but which way?" Movement without intended direction tends to turn into a lot of unfocused flailing, which looks good on Kermit, but not so much on the rest of us.

(inserting a cut here, because honestly, this is gonna go on a bit)

So you need to sit down and start asking questions—and answering them—so you can draw some kind of map. "I want to make a career out of writing"? Fine. What kind of writing? Fiction? Nonfiction? If fiction, what kind? What do you like to read? Why? Is that something you'd like to write? Why? Why not? If there's something else you'd rather be writing—what else? And why?

The more you ask the questions and answer them—"Keep asking the next question," Ted Sturgeon never used to stop saying—and the further along your investigations get, the more likely you are (as you get close to the answers that matter) to start getting the itch to write something, something in particular. This process may take a while, and the itch may take a good while to manifest. Don't be alarmed by that. The old saying is that the fire from Heaven won't descend until you've built the altar for it. And it may take a while piling the rocks up into the right shape. Don't hurry. If this is something you intend to spend a lifetime on, make sure the foundations are sound. The time taken will be worth it.

And BTW, do you intend that kind of length of commitment? If you're not sure, that's fine. But there's no one else to ask at this point who can give you meaningful answers. This is the time to get into it. Work out what "having a career in writing" looks like for you. Then start investigating to see whether your conception has any foundation in reality as a kind of lifestyle you actually have decent odds on achieving. (Again, I'm an outlier here. I'd been writing for pleasure for a long time before I had the good fortune to befriend an actual career writer, examine his habits [and those of other writers in the LA area] at close range, and realize that this line-of-work choice was actually something that could be successfully pulled off by mere mortals.) After investigation, this is a call that only you can make.

But anyway. Once you've started experiencing the kind of motivation that comes of increased certainty about what you want to do and why, you'll find you're way less concerned about sourcing or supporting it externally. It tends to fuel itself. (As once it does descend, the fire from Heaven is tenacious stuff: more Greek than otherwise.)

But also: trying to designate outsourced exterior stimulants for motivation is a bad idea. The reason's simple: one day you'll need them and they won't be there. Conditions will have changed, or the outside-of-you sources into the hands of which you've resigned your motivational agency may not be available for one reason or another, temporarily or permanently... and then where are you? The concept's a nonstarter. If your motivation's acting up, you need to be looking inward, not outward, for ways to kickstart it. This is one of the most personal parts of the writing process. You need to own it.

(And yeah, even career writers' motivation slips sometimes: annoying career things happen, cyclic lows cut in at a bad time, you name it. Most of us work out ways to jar the motivation back into correct operation when it acts up. But for such corrections to work you must first know what it's like to generate or mine yours yourself... and you're still working on that. The methods you find to generate motivation toward doing the Work will also assist you in diagnosing it when it goes south, and putting it right again.)

Also: (sighing) Please let your friends off the hook as regards reading your material, and feedback. Your motivation to write should not be dependent on their feedback, and it's not a good idea to try to make friends feel responsible for keeping you on the creative track. Chief among reasons for this: they may not feel themselves up to the task of giving you the writing support you're apparently asking them for—possibly because they simply don't feel competent to. (This is where we could get into how I had to stop @petermorwood from rewriting his third novel for the third time due to conflicting notes from friends... but let's leave that for later.) At best you're possibly making your friends deeply uncomfortable. At worst, the pressure may damage the friendships.

Tl:dr; our friends may love us dearly, but that doesn't make them competent editors. If you're online, so are many writers' groups who'll welcome a new member who needs advice. Wait till you've got more data and clarity on your motivational issues, and then start shopping around for assistance that seems friendly and trustworthy.

And finally (for the moment), about other people's attention spans:

It'd be good if you can start training yourself away from the habit of worrying about those. For one thing, there's absolutely nothing you can do about them. You might as well worry about the 11-year sunspot cycle. The attention-span issue is just one more distraction from things you should usefully be thinking about. But also: A lot of what we hear about that situation strikes me as fearmongering (as, IIRC, it was supposed to cause the downfall of western civilization around the time I started writing for Scooby-Doo).

If you look around, you'll see that loads of people are willing to spend HUGE amounts of their attention on stuff they love. (I mean, have you been on AO3 lately? And we're just talking about free stuff, there. Lots of other people will do the same for traditionally published work, given the chance and the money.) Your job is to get on with writing, start putting what you're doing out there where people will have a chance to fall in love with it, and then deal with the consequences.

More of this next time. (And please bear with me, as I'm still not up to best operating speed after the last week's illness. I'll get to everything else you sent me, I promise.)

HTH!

#writing advice #masked ask #is that a term? #it is now #motivation in writing #motivational issues

[wolfjackle-creates]

Answer My Call Chapter 2 Part 2

Happy WIP Wednesday! So last week, we had a tie between Bring Me Home and Answer My Call. The tie breaker didn't come in until Monday after I'd already finished the entire Bring Me Home chapter and half the Answer My Call one.

So y'all will be getting two fic upates today then I'm going to sleep. I'm tired after a full day of work with a call out. XP

If you want a say in next week's update, vote in the poll!

Story Summary: Jazz, Sam, and Tucker manage to help Danny escape the GIW, but they can't follow him and are under too much surveillance to communicate with each other. Sam snuck Danny a phone as he ran and Jazz sends him a text every day, hoping to hear he is all right. But he's not the one getting the texts.

Jason was away for several months on a mission with the Outlaws. When he finally returns home, he is surprised to find dozens of messages from an unknown number begging a Danny to tell her he's okay. Looks like there's not going to be a break between missions this time around.

Chapter 1: AO3 (user locked), Tumblr

Chapter 2: Part 1

Word Count: 1.3k

-----

After the performances—an odd mix where the main band yielded the stage to a poet or an accordionist when they needed a break—Jazz and Todd continued to mingle.

Jazz waited until about fifteen minutes had passed before reaching into her bag to search for her phone. “Todd!” she cried.

“Jazz? What’s wrong?”

“I can’t find my phone! Shit, what time is it?”

Todd pulled out his. “Eleven fifty. Did you have it when we arrived?”

“I don’t know! I haven’t checked it. Where could it have gone?”

One of the other attendees broke into the conversation. “Lost your phone? What does it look like? We can help you look.” She was a woman in her forties or fifties. Next to her was another woman who nodded her agreement.

“Thank you, that’d be great.” It didn’t take much effort to bring tears to her eyes—all she had to do was remember that Danny was still missing. “It’s a Samsung in an unfortunately standard black case. The lock screen has picture of and my brother. My name’s Jazz, by the way. And this is Todd.”

“I’m Mel and this is my wife Jayden. I’m sure we’ll find your phone soon enough.” Then, in a voice loud enough to cut through the chatter, “Oi! Anyone see an unattended phone lying around? Jazz here misplaced hers?”

Even Mel, though, had to admit defeat after half an hour of searching through the entire apartment yielded nothing.

Jazz sat down on the floor and let herself cry. “And by now we’ve missed the last train. I’m sorry, Todd. What a disaster.”

“Hey, no. None of that, now. Tonight’s been a blast. This sucks for sure, but I can get us an uber or something—”

“How far are you kids going?” asked Jayden.

“Too far,” cried Jazz. “I live out of the city. Parked at Alewife and took the red line in.”

Jayden winced. “Well, we parked nearby. Is there somewhere close we can drive you?”

Jazz blinked up at them. “You’d do that?” She turned to Todd. “I just want to go to sleep. Is there a motel nearby we could stay at?”

Todd pulled out his phone and searched. “Looks like there’s a Holiday inn just down the street or a La Quinta that’s a little cheaper just a bit further out.” He smiled ruefully at the women who’d been helping them. “If you could get us to either place, we’d be more than grateful.”

One of the residents, an older man named Rob, took a seat next to them. “Hey, kiddo. What’s your email? We can contact you if anyone finds it.”

Jazz smiled at him gratefully and gave it. If it wasn’t so necessary, she’d feel bad for lying to and worrying all these people. But they were in so much danger. To the women, she said, “Would the La Quinta be too far out of the way? If I end up having to get a new phone, I’d like to save as much money as possible. Thank God I still have my wallet.”

“Sweetie, it’s totally fine,” assured Mel. “We’d take you all the way home if we didn’t live on the opposite side of the city.”

“Thank you, but that’s really okay. I just want to go to bed and worry about it tomorrow.”

“Come on, dear.” Mel reached out a hand to help Jazz up. “Let’s get you cleaned up then we’ll be on our way.”

Jazz thanked Rob for his help before Mel led her towards the bathroom with an arm around her shoulder.

Less than forty minutes later, Todd and Jazz were alone in a hotel room together. She pulled the blinds shut and finally let herself relax.

When she turned back to the room, Todd was looking at her with one eyebrow raised. “Want to explain to me what all of”—he threw out his hands—“that was about?”

Jazz glared back at him. “You didn’t tell me you died! Damn it, if I’d known in advance—!” she cut herself off and took a deep breath. “Never mind. What’s done is done.”

Todd was deadly still. “How do you know that?”

Jazz threw her hands in the air. “It’s obvious to anyone who knows how to tell. Including the Guys in White who I told you are dangerous to ghosts and liminals! I had plans for what I’d say when they found us, but those won’t work if you’re dead!”

“Wait.” Todd held up his hands. “You’re saying I can be persecuted under those Anti-Ecto acts?”

“Yes! You’re more ghostly than me, and I am watched every minute of every day.”

Todd narrowed his eyes and stared at her for a moment before asking, “Have you heard of Lazarus Water or had any dealings with the League of Assassins?”

“No! I have no idea what you’re talking about. Quit changing the subject. My brother is the only thing that matters and you and Red Robin promised to help me find him.”

“That’s what I’m trying to do!” Jason’s eyes flashed green, and Jazz glared right back at him. “The League of Assassins are the ones who brought me back to life with Lazarus Water. I need to know if you and your brother are mixed up with them because that would change our approach. If it’s a rogue government agency, that’s one thing. If it’s also the league, we’ve got a whole set of other problems.”

Jazz sat down heavily on one of the bed. “Oh. Sorry, I didn’t— It’s been a long few months. After a long few years.”

Todd sat down across from her and nodded for her to continue. “Tell me what happened.”

“It started three years ago. My parents, they’re ghost hunters. Been building weapons to detect and hunt ghosts since before I was born. But three years ago is when they finally finished their life’s work: the ghost portal. Only it didn’t work at first. Then my brother Danny and his friends decided to be stupid. They went to check it out. I wasn’t there and the three of them don’t talk about it, but something happened down there that day.

“My brother died and the portal was working. Only, he didn’t die all the way. He became half-ghost, half-human. And that would have been bad enough, but with the portal open, ghosts came through from the Infinite Realms, sometimes called the Ghost Zone by humans. Some were benign, but many of them came to cause problems or hurt people. Danny stopped them.”

Todd held up a hand to stop her. “Your brother became a supehero? How didn’t the Justice League hear about this? How old was he?”

Jazz shrugged. “I don’t know about the Justice League. It could be that no one ever contacted them. It could be they didn’t believe us. And it could be that no one cared. Danny felt responsible though, since it was his fault the portal turned on. And he was the only one with the ability to stop the ghosts, so…” She held up her hands in a what-can-you-do gesture.

Todd closed his eyes and let out a careful breath. “I can guarantee you the JL didn’t know about your town. A fourteen-year-old would never have been left alone to monitor an interdimensional portal if we had.”

Jazz had no idea what she thought of that. Danny had done it all alone. So finding out he could have had help? She shook her head. What-ifs were a waste of time. “Well, he did. But the government didn’t like that a ghost was the main defense against ghosts. So the Ghost Investigation Ward, more commonly called the Guys in White or GIW was formed. At first, they were as incompetent as any other ghost hunter. But they didn’t stay that way.”

“What happened to your brother, Jazz?” asked Todd.

-----

Next

Sorry to end it there. But it's the right length and I need to go to bed. XP

Hope you enjoy!

I no longer do tag lists, but please check out the Subscription Post if you want notifications when I update.

Not much to say about this one. When I went to the event at this location, my friend and I very nearly missed the last train. It was pulling into the station as we entered. If we'd been 2 or 3 minutes later, we would've been stranded so far from my car, I don't even want to know what that uber or cab would've cost.

Luckily Jazz and Jason had a few good Samaritans nearby.

Next up: We learn more about what happened to Danny!

#dpxdc #answer my call #wrong number au #jazz fenton #jason todd #eventual anger management ship #emotions are running high #and jazz is Stressed™️ #but they can finally talk #and be safe about it

[nolita-fairytale]

don’t want to walk alone | carmen ‘carmy' berzatto | chapter three: september

summary: the moment we've all be waiting for: you and carmy get married.

warnings: swearing, eventual smut, lots of tooth rotting fluff, marriage, no use of y/n, second person pov, she/her pronouns

wc: 7.1k

listen to: the official don't want to walk alone playlist. there is SO much music in this chapter, so per the playlist, it starts with 'it takes two' and ends with 'love story.'

a/n: ok so this chapter was a behemoth to write and i am in fact in love with it. it's taken me days, really weeks, to get what i wanted out of it and i still feel like i could've gone deeper. however, i'm also kind of just happy to have this out in the world and give these two the wedding they wanted me to give them. each moment was curated and thought out, down to the music selection so this chapter is really just a product of me stewing on this idea for quite a bit of time. this is a part of my make my heart surrender universe so check out the masterlist if you haven't read the series! next up? their long weekend at the langham where we really get carmy x reader and moments for just them. please let me know if you'd like to be added or removed from the taglist.

part two | masterlist | part four

“It takes two to make a thing go riiiiight.”

You never pictured the night before your wedding like this, you think to yourself, as you listen to Fak sing, to the best of his ability in a somewhat-decent falsetto, along to the 90s hip hop classic. 

Hell, you’re not sure you really ever pictured your wedding, but as you sit, surrounded by the people you love, you can’t see it going any other way than this. You watch as Richie rallies up as many people as he can for shots of Mallort, recounting that infamous morning at Ceres – a story he’s told over and over again, yet still manages to tell as animated and boisterously as the first time you heard it. 

You groan as you watch Richie successfully convince Gary to take a shot with him, Gary’s face twisting into a look of disgust in response to the foul taste of the Chicago liquor, as Sugar reminds him that he should know better by now. 

Carmy gives your knee a squeeze while simultaneously brushing off Richie’s attempt at shoving a shot in his direction. You laugh, a warm feeling filling you to the brim (could be the beer, could be being surrounded by your people), while Sydney jumps right into her best Rob Base impression. 

It just so happens that your continuously put-off ‘let’s shoot for next month’ karaoke plans with a few staff members from The Bear coincided with plans to go out with friends before the wedding, which is how you’ve found yourself here. 

After a lovely dinner at The Bear, your parents went back to the hotel for the night, insisting that you two go and have your fun. And as much as you would’ve loved to have brought your mother-who-has-a-doctorate-in-music-theory to karaoke night, she much preferred a good night’s sleep. 

The crowded bar claps enthusiastically as Fak and Sydney wrap up their song, finishing their truly-made-up-only-for-comedy dance moves. You giggle, exchanging another glance with Carmy, as your friends take their bows, before shuffling off of the stage. 

You hear the loud boom of the emcee’s voice through the microphone as he says:

“And up next we got… Tina!”

“Let’s go, T!” you shout through hands crowded around your mouth, in an effort to increase your volume of sound. 

Carmy cheers, clapping his hands together as Richie enthusiastically chants Tina’s name while Tina makes her way to the stage. 

“This is gonna be good,” Sugar nudges you, from where you are, seated in between the Berzatto siblings. 

You nod your head in agreement before settling in a little closer to Carmy. 

“The queen, herself,” Sydney remarks, gesturing towards the stage as she and Fak both return to your table. Sydney pulls up a chair next to where you and Carmy sit while Fak joins Richie on the other side of it. “And the ONLY act that could follow our exceptional performance.” 

“Well, exactly,” you agree, playfully. 

You exchange a laugh with Syd, while Carmy playfully rolls his eyes at the two of you. 

The crowded bar room goes quiet as soon as Tina reaches the stage, smiling nervously as she grabs the mic. 

“This one goes out to our favorite Jeffrey. And his lady Jeff,” she begins, earning a round of cheers and hollers from the group you’re with. Tina blows a kiss you and Carmy’s way, before nodding at the emcee to begin. 

“I love you guys.”

You hear the beginning notes of the iconic Etta James tune, gasping in anticipation of her song:

“at last my love has come along my lonely days are over and life is like a song.”

You sigh in admiration, a hand over your heart as Tina continues to sing. Her voice is powerful, soulful – perfect for the song, really – as she continues into the second verse. 

“at last the skies above are blue my heart was wrapped up in clover the night I looked at you.”

This time, it’s Carmy who steals a glance your way, his mind taken back to that fateful night at a bar in Hell’s Kitchen, when he spilled his drink on you so many years ago. You’re entranced, enchanted, with Tina’s performance, and he thinks to himself, that maybe this is the best it’s ever going to get: being here with you, getting to love you, on the cusp of promising you ‘forever’ tomorrow. 

Never had he expected that you’d make it this far. You’d always been so much cooler than him – well-liked, talented, funny – in and out of the kitchen, that he had no idea how the hell he was supposed to talk to you without vomiting all over your shoes out of nerves. 

He can remember that night so vividly: standing there in the restroom of the bar he can barely remember the name of, while you stood across from him with the kind of glare on your face he swore could kill him. But you didn’t, and after many attempts to push you away, you asked him to be your friend, deeming it the day that started it all – a friendship that would teeter the line of friendship and something more, one that would bloom into the greatest love he’s ever known. As much as he hates to give Nate fucking Walker any kind of credit, he’ll the be first in line to say he’s glad the jagoff pushed him into you, setting it all in motion. 

You can see that Carmy’s become distracted, lost in thought as the song finishes, something behind your favorite pair of blue eyes as the entire bar ignites into a huge round of celebratory claps for Tina’s performance. 

You look up over at him, setting your beer bottle down on the table before leaning over to whisper in his ear.

“I can hear you thinkin’ over there, Berzatto,” you tease him quietly, pulling him from his trip down memory lane. “It’s only the night before the biggest day of your life. Relax.”

Carmy rolls his eyes playfully in response, but before he can properly respond to your jab, the emcee has begun introducing the next karaoke singers to the stage. 

“Alright. Looks like I’ve got uh… three singers here this time,” the emcee says, his voice cutting sharply through the crowd of remaining cheers. “Let’s welcome Sydney back to the stage with… Sugar and… the bride to be!” 

“What!?” you exclaim, your eyes wide with surprise as Sydney jumps to her feet.  

“But I didn’t-,” you begin to protest, as Sugar pulls you to your feet, tugging on your arm. 

“Oh there’s no way in hell we’re letting you sit this one out,” Sugar orders you, as Sydney rushes to your side, ushering you towards the stage. 

“Yeah this was your idea!” Sydney simultaneously reminds you. 

“Babe! Help!” you call out to Carmy, only to be met with a shrug and a look that says ‘don’t think I could if I tried.’ 

“Oh, he’s in on this,” Sydney adds, which does explain why he didn’t even attempt to help you when your friends began dragging you out of your chair. “So don’t even think about asking him for help.”

“Wh-? But I don’t even know what we’re singing!” you continue to protest, looking from Sugar to Sydney as they push you onto the stage with them. 

“Trust,” Sydney reassures you, her face serious, while Nat slides a sash over you (one you’ve refused to wear all night) that has the word, ‘BRIDE’ printed over it in huge gold lettering. You groan, sending a glare in Nat’s direction, even though you know it’s all in good fun. 

You hear Richie shout, while Fak and Marcus clap loudly, and Carmy laughs, shouting words of encouragement your way. 

You know there’s no use in putting up a fight, especially since this was your idea anyways, as you begrudgingly take one of the three wireless mics. Before you can ask once more, what the hell Syd and Nat signed the three of you up to sing, a distinct slide of piano keys comes in, lighting up the karaoke screen in front of you. 

You grin immediately, in recognition, and to your two best friend’s delight, as they smile too, raising the mics to your lips to sing:

“friday night and the lights are low looking out for a place to go where they play the right music getting in the swing you come to look for a king.”

You laugh as your friends point towards Carmy on the last line. The three of you continue to sing the next part with reckless abandon, and all is forgiven. 

You could care less about how the three of them conspired against you to get you up here. All that matters now is that you’re here, singing one of your favorite songs with your best friends, grooving and dancing to the ABBA classic, as you prepare to marry your best friend. 

“you can dance you can jive having the time of your life ooh, see that girl watch that scene digging the dancing queen.”

"what good is love without any strings?" dayglow, 'close to me'

“Baby.”

Carmy groans in response, as soon as he hears the low hum of your voice. 

“Good morning,” you say, a soft smile on your face as you watch him begin to blink his eyes open. 

Carmy turns his head towards you, and he can’t believe he gets to wake up to this – to you – every single day. 

“Hey,” he says back, a soft smile spreading across his lips. “Good Morning, sweetheart.” 

“Guess what?” you ask him with the kind of glee and anticipation as a kid on Christmas morning. 

“Hmm?” he hums, as you smooth a hand over his chest, your body pressed against his side as you look at your soon-to-be husband. 

“We’re getting married today,” you grin, a giddiness that bubbles inside of you. 

“‘S that so?” he mumbles, playfully. 

“Uh huh,” you nod with a chuckle, this time playing along. “Don’t tell me you forgot.”

Instead of replying with words, Carmy swiftly wraps an arm around you, before flipping you so that you’re the one on your back this time. You let out of a shriek and a laugh as he leans down, pressing a gentle kiss to your lips before adding:

“How could I ever?”

You shrug casually, “Weeeelll…. you just have so much going on up there.” You reach up to where Carmy hovers above you, brushing a golden curl out of his eyes as you continue your little dance. 

“You know, between the restaurant and all that time spent being a genius,” you joke, bantering with Carmy. “Don’t know how you have the time to remember silly little things like wedding dates and what not.”

“You’re ridiculous,” Carmy laughs, shaking his head incredulously, before pressing another kiss, this one much deeper to your lips again. 

And this time, as he pulls away, he gives you one of those languid looks that pierces right through your soul replying much more seriously this time with:

“I could never forget you.”

The way he says it with such conviction takes your breath away, and you know that Carmy means it. The double meaning isn’t lost on him either. 

It’s one of the reasons he called you all those years ago to come teach Marcus; it’s why you ended up in Chicago:

Because as much as he tried, as damn good at compartmentalizing as he’d always been, he really could never forget you. Carmy shakes his head once more, a playful smile on his face as he leans down to kiss you again, wondering when the hell he got this fuckin’ sentimental. As he places his mouth over yours, you’re more than happy to switch gears into doing this dance for a little longer. 

 Carmy traces light shapes against your skin, his mouth pouring love into yours with every kiss, with every drag of his tongue. You gasp as he grinds his hips into yours, making it clear where he’d like this all to go. You pull away, only for a moment, giggling cheekily. 

“Babe, I-,” you begin to protest, as Carmy chuckles, continuing to kiss you with zero intention of stopping “We… we’re going to be late.” This time, you feel his hands snake underneath the t-shirt you’ve been sleeping in, sending chills down your spine. 

“And-, Carm-, I-, I have to do my hair for-, … and what about-, my parents, they’ll-,” you stammer through, your thoughts becoming all kinds of disorganized with the way Carmy’s lips move against your neck this time. 

“I’ll be quick,” he answers with an aplomb you didn’t know he had in him. 

“I don’t know if that’s the flex you think it is,” you tease him as his hands begin to cup your breasts, your body responding with an involuntary arch of your back. 

“How fast I can make you come? I think it might be?” he murmurs against your lips, cockily.  

“Carmy,” you moan, as he begins to pull your t-shirt up higher, making it incredibly difficult to think of your to-do list for much longer. 

“Oh fuck it,” you sigh, deciding that, perhaps there’s no harm in getting the honeymoon started a little early anyways. 

“That’s my girl,” Carmy whispers against you, grinning like a Cheshire cat as you surrender to him. 

And he’s right about this too. 

How fast he can make you cum deserves all kinds of bragging rights, awards – a Nobel Peace prize, even – and you’re not sure why you thought getting a head start on doing your hair would’ve been the better idea in the first place. You spend the morning in the arms of the man you plan to spend forever with as he writes love letters, promises to give you the world, declarations of adoration with the pleasure he brings you. And besides, you’re not running all that behind on time anyways – something you realize, as the two of you get out of the shower (a round two, really). 

It takes a little longer than expected – mostly due to the fact that you and Carmy can’t seem to keep your hands off of each other – but against all odds, the two of you pull up to the courthouse right on time. 

It’s a sight for sore eyes: you, running hand in hand with your husband-to-be in a white, halter-cut wedding dress while Carmy follows along, in a classic black suit – no tie around the neck – as the two of you hurry into the courthouse. 

Sure, you could’ve tried to get here early – saved a little time and stress – but where’s the fun in that?

The two of you approach your families, hand in hand, to the sounds of your heels clicking against the marble floors of City Hall. The actual ceremony at City Hall, you’d both decided, would be family only. 

Since you weren’t making a huge deal of it, you viewed this part as necessary paperwork, while the party itself could function as the ceremony and reception. But as soon as you see the look on your parents’ faces, you know this is more than just a few signed papers. You watch as their faces change, from impatient, waiting, eager, to in awe and emotional as you walk towards them. 

You hear Ava shout your name, immediately dropping her dad’s hand as she runs towards you. 

“Ava!!” you exclaim, bending down in your heels and white dress to scoop her up into a hug. You spin her around, just for a moment, before setting her back down on the floor. 

“You look like a princess,” she says, completely in awe, her eyes wide as she looks up at you. 

“You look like a princess, sweetie,” you reply, before giving her another hug. “And you know I can’t wait to hear your song, right?” 

“I picked the best one,” she grins, proudly. 

“I’m sure you did,” you reply confidently, with a playful wink. 

“Oh-ho! Pay up, Rick,” Sugar mutters smugly, to Richie, as Carmy busies himself with greeting both of your parents.

Richie groans, muttering something profane as he not-so-discreetly hands Nat a $20 bill, earning a quizzical look from both of your parents that travels from Carmy and then to you. 

“Sorry,” Richie apologizes, this time directing this one towards your parents as he holds up both hands, respectfully bowing his head. 

You send a playful glare Richie’s way, earning a sardonic laugh from Natalie, as you push right past him and over to your parents. 

“Oh sweetie,” your mom gasps, pulling you in for a tight squeeze. 

“Hi, Mom,” you grin, as you hug her. “Dad!”

“My God, honey, you look beautiful,” your dad says, as it’s his turn next. You hug your dad, exchanging a few words about the morning, asking how they slept, how the hotel is, as your mom and Carmy hug it out. 

This time, he turns his attention towards Carmy, so you release him, letting the two of them have their moment. 

Taking your chance, while your parents are otherwise distracted, you make your way over to where Sugar and Richie stand. 

“What? You guys were betting on whether or not we’d be late?” you ask Sugar, an eyebrow quirked in Richie’s direction. 

“Listen,” Sugar sighs, cupping your face in her hands, endearingly. “You and Carm are nothing if not consistent.” You exchange a laugh with your almost-sister-in-law because you know she’s right. “And for the record, I bet that you’d be-.”

“Just in time!” the judge says, as he approaches the six of you, slipping his judge robe over his shoulders, black leather fold pressed against his chest. “You guys ready to get started?”

Carmy looks over at you, as if he’s waiting for you to take the lead here, and you nod, before the both of you turn back to the judge. 

“Yes.” 

“Great,” he smiles, clapping his hands together once. “Then let’s get you two married!”

"sooner or later, you'll find yourself right where you were, on the corner went looking for her, she had somethin' to tell you, she can't quite remember, but wait for a second, it always comes back to her, you always come back to her." -- the japanese house, 'morning pages'

And after dotting all appropriate i’s and crossing all necessary t’s, with one signed marriage license later, you, Carmy, your parents, Richie and Ava, Sugar, and Judge Thompson find yourself on the green roof of City Hall. 

Carmy stands across you, his hands in yours, offering you a lifetime with one look from the most expressive blue orbs you’ve ever found yourself in. 

“If you’d like to say something, if you prepared any vows… now would be the time,” Judge Thompson says, offering you and Carmy both the space to do so. 

“Oh I think we-,” you begin, ready to decline the opportunity since you figured you’d save it for the reception. 

“Actually uh, yeah. Can we?” Carmen interjects, sending you a look of reassurance. 

“Of course,” Judge Thompson nods, giving you and Carmy the floor. 

“Carm, I didn’t prepare anything for-,” you begin, but he’s quick to put your mind and heart at ease and he interjects with:

“It’s okay. I did.”

“Oh.”

You hadn’t expected this, since you both agreed you’d save any kind of speeches that may or may not happen today during the reception. But as Carmy’s palms grow clammier, a nervous look in his eyes as he searches for the words he’s practiced over the last few days, it becomes clear that he’s been planning this. 

“As you know… I’m not always great with words,” he begins, almost apologetically, letting out a small laugh as he looks to Richie for reassurance. In turn, Richie gives Carmy a sympathetic nod, and you’re practically melting over the fact that he probably asked Richie for help with this. 

Let it rip.

 “I just uh-,” Carmy stammers, because he really, really wants to get this right. “Well, I’ll keep it brief.” He takes a breath, letting all of his nerves out on the exhale before beginning again. 

Let it rip, buddy.

“I have loved you for so long – I think maybe since the day you brought me soup after I uh… you know, spilled my drink on you,” he states, earning the sweetest laugh from you, your friends, and family that came to witness. 

“-- so I promise to love you for even longer, for forever. You changed my life.”

You exhale, trying your best not to cry right here and now, thankful for the mysterious powers of waterproof mascara. 

“Jeez, no pressure,” you joke, dryly, before taking another breath, this time approaching your words with much more seriousness.

“Carmen. I’m so happy… that I changed your life,” you begin, cheekily, earning a laugh from your witnesses once more. “Because you changed mine. And I promise to love you forever.” 

‘I love you,’ Carmy mouths to you, before nodding towards the judge to signal that you’re both done with your vows. 

“Alright then,” Judge Thompson smiles, looking from you and then to Carmen, before uttering the question that will change the course of your life forever. 

“I do,” Carmy replies, his voice even, sure, ready. 

Natalie steps up this time, handing Carmy your ring, and you watch, teary eyed and full hearted as he slides it onto your left ring finger. 

“And do you take Carmen Anthony Berzatto to be your lawfully wedded husband?” Judge Thompson repeats the question, this time for you to answer. 

“Yeah, why the hell not?” you reply, earning a groan from your mother and a playful chuckle from your father. 

“Yes. I do.” 

At Richie’s encouragement, it’s Ava this time who steps up, handing you Carmy’s ring, with the sweetest most excited smile on her face as she looks from you to Carmy. You thank her, before returning your attention to Carmy once more. His eyes search your face, and there’s something so soft, so genuine in them that you think you’re going to cry as you help him put on his new piece of jewelry as well. 

“Then by the power vested in me by the State of Illinois, I now pronounce you, husband and wife,” Judge Thompson concludes, contently.

“Should we-, do we kiss?” Carmy asks, looking from you to Judge Thompson. 

“I’m just a civil servant but you may, yes,” he answers lightheartedly. 

“Let’s go for it,” you shrug, taking a step towards Carmy. 

Instead of answering, he smiles, stepping towards you before planting one on you in front of your friends and family that were invited to this brief ceremony. 

While Sugar claps gleefully, Richie claps along muttering a ‘get a room,’ while you remind Carmy to keep it PG enough for your parents. You giggle, slowly pulling away from the kiss that begins the rest of your life with the man that you love. 

“We did it, baby. We’re married,” you chuckle, in disbelief. 

“Finally,” Carmy sighs, and you can see his smile from his lips to the crinkles in the corners of his eyes. 

It doesn’t take long for your mom to usher both you and Carmy over to a spot in the garden she thinks will be best for pictures, just as the photographer arrives. She wasn’t wrong when she insisted you hire one, that you’d want to remember this day for the rest of your life. The photographer, who is incredibly talented, gets the shots needed up here in the garden, then downstairs, and outside, before you’re all off to Sugar’s place for the reception. 

As you and Carmy sit in the car, having taken a separate one than your parents, you’re giddy with anticipation. 

It’s all so surreal. 

Never in his life did Carmy picture it ever getting this good, but as he looks over at you, your head resting on his shoulder, he presses a kiss to the top of your head, smiling to himself. 

“We did it, sweet girl. We’re married,” he says, repeating your words from earlier. 

“Yeah,” you grin, lifting your head off of his shoulder. 

“We are, Bear.”

"give your heart and soul to me, and life will always be la vie en rose."

“No, Sugar! That’s not supposed to go out yet. Everything’s goin’ out family style. Let’s just take out the apps for-,” Carmy exclaims, stressed over the execution of your wedding reception-slash-brunch, because he just can’t help himself. 

“Fuckin’ Christ, Bear!” she snaps at her brother. “Will you calm down and let us handle this?” 

“I just want everything to-,” Carmy begins, his face blushing a shade darker. 

“To go right. We know. And we know we’re just taking out apps, alright? Everyone else is outside, and everyone’s having a good time so just… relax,” she suggests, her tone serious because she’s just about to kick Carmy out of the kitchen. 

Carmy shifts nervously, hyper-fixating on the happenings of the kitchen, his eyes tracking the movements of one of his caterer, Derek’s, sous chefs. It’s almost as if he needs to give himself a distraction as he asks, blankly:

“Do you uh… you think Mom is actually gonna show?”

Sugar pauses, the question throwing her. 

“I… I don’t know. I called her yesterday. She never picked up. What do you think?” she replies, her voice quiet. 

With your encouragement, you and Carmy had sent his mother an invitation to the brunch, only it’s been Sugar who’s followed up with her. 

“We did what we needed to and if she doesn’t come, then she doesn’t come. I’m not pushin’ it,” Carmy had explained, justifying his actions, or rather, lack there of, to you. 

She’s doubtful, but Nat can’t help the tiny glimmer of hope she has in her heart that Donna might show, even if she knows it’s unrealistic. In fact, her mom had barely been interested in stopping by as of late, ever since she’d told the Berzatto matriarch that she was pregnant. She keeps telling herself that it doesn’t matter – that it’s probably better if Donna doesn’t show – but it doesn’t help ease the disappointment she feels about the situation as a whole. 

“Doubt it, honestly. Never even got an RSVP so,” Carmy shrugs, his eyes following one of the caterers as the woman plates a few Hors d'oeuvres on a large serving platter. 

Before Sugar can say anything else about their mom, Carmy’s impulse takes over as he opens his mouth to give feedback to one of Derek’s assistants. 

“Carmy!” she snaps, blocking his pathway with her body, before repeating one more time:

“Let. Us. Handle this.”

“I mean, are any of us actually surprised, Nat?” Sydney adds, as soon as she enters the kitchen from where she’s been outside in the backyard, in search of another plate to bring out. “He’s a control freak! We know this!”

“I-,” Carmy starts, knowing it’s no use protesting, as both Sugar and Syd begin guiding him out of the kitchen and into the living room. 

“C’mon, Carm. Why don’t you go see what your wife is up to?” Sydney suggests, emphasizing your new title, earning a snicker from Natalie. 

“Who’s wife? This wife?” you ask, as soon as your feet hit the bottom of the staircase. 

“Woah,” is all Carmy says. He can’t help but stare, gawking at you in your new dress. 

You’ve changed out of your near-floor length wedding dress into a sleeveless white blazer dress that’s much more friendly to hanging out with your friends and family outside, kept your hair the same, and put on one of those super stay red lipsticks that you’re eager to put through its paces. 

It’s as if time stops when he sees you, and Sugar and Syd both notice, using this time to retreat back to their duties. The only thing that can break his focus right now is the way that you let a carefree laugh fly from your lips, as soon as you see that Natalie’s using the future baby’s baby gate that Nat must’ve purchased early, to officially block Carmy from coming back to the kitchen. 

“What?” Carmy asks, only to be met with a gesture towards what Natalie is doing. 

He frowns, immediately seeing the baby gate his sister has put up. 

“You know, I’m not a baby,” he pouts at his sister. 

“Then stop acting like one!” she parries right back, before disappearing into the kitchen to help out your caterer. 

Quick to console your husband, you wrap your arms around your neck, pressing a gentle kiss to his lips. 

“They’re only trying to make sure we have a good time, Bear,” you offer, sympathetically, only to be met with a heavy sigh because you know it feels near-impossible for him not to be in the kitchen. 

“You trust Derek right?” you ask this time, referring to the caterer that Carmy hand-picked for your wedding. 

“Yeah,” he nods. 

“Okay. Then let’s go out there. Make our grand entrance,” you suggest, a playful smile on your lips. 

“Yeah,” Carmy nods again, this time a little more sure about taking a step away from what’s happening inside the kitchen. You take his hand, leading him towards the back door that opens up to the backyard. 

You’re truly amazed at what everyone involved has been able to do this morning, while you and Carmy were off at the courthouse getting married. Long tables pushed together and covered with tablecloths function as the main attraction of the you-and-Carmy-wedding-reception-brunch, filled with ceramic plates, printed menus, apps on serving platters, taper candles and flowers in all kinds of little to big vases. 

The minute the two of you enter the backyard area that’s been transformed into a wedding venue, you’re met with cheers, ooo’s and aaaaah’s, claps, and congratulations by your friends and family. 

“Sugar really knocked this out of the park,” Carmy says, in awe as he takes in the scene. “Okay, fine. I’ll just have to trust, I guess.”

You nod, happy to hear the confidence in his voice as you agree, “That’s my guy!”

There’s a banner that hangs across a much smaller table, the one that holds the stunning wedding cake Marcus has made for you that reads, Congratulations, Mr. and Mrs. Berzatto.

“See? I told you I couldn’t wait to be Mrs. Berzatto,” you joke with Carmy, as the two of you walk hand in hand towards the table. 

“I think I like the sound of that more than I should,” Carmy smirks, a glimmer in his eyes that says ‘I can’t wait to get you alone.’

“Can’t wait for you to show me later,” you wink, referring to the long weekend you plan on spending with Carmy as a pre-honeymoon. “C’mon. We should probably go say hello.” 

“So… you two married now or what?” Marcus asks, as soon as the two of you approach the table. 

You hold up your left hand, showing off your new ring, earning grins and more cheers from your friends and family. 

“That’s what I’m talking about!” he celebrates, while Tina simultaneously and enthusiastically cries out: “Congratulations, babies!”

The plan is to divine and conquer. While you chat with Gary, Carmy lets himself become enveloped in Tina’s arms and praise, as the two of you make your way down the table saying hello to your guests: your parents, Marcus, Tina, Ebra, Fak, Gary, a few others from the restaurant, while. 

Carmy’s glad you decided to keep this wedding small: close friends and family only, because he’s not sure he could’ve done any more of this. It’s just close friends from the restaurant and your parents. You’d even decided earlier that this weekend would be chill enough that you’d celebrate with Maya and Liz a few months later when you and Carmy stop in New York before the official honeymoon, planning another celebration with your New York people for later. 

Besides, you don’t mind celebrating you and Carmy a few more times, after all. 

Finally, you’re both able to settle into the empty chairs seated right next to your parents in the middle of the table labeled ‘bride’ and ‘groom.’ It’s a Saturday well spent, being celebrated by some of your favorite people in the world on a day you made a promise to your favorite person in the world. It doesn’t take long for everyone in the kitchen to join you at the table: Sugar, Richie, Sydney, and Pete, and once the meal is served, family style, you’re pulling up chairs and insisting that Derek and his team join you as well. 

The menu is perfect, and you can see why Carmy’s been trying to get this guy to come work for him for so long. Next to Carmy’s, this carbonara might be your second favorite carbonara on the planet. After all the eating, drinking, and merry-making, it’s Richie who steps up to start the speeches, gently tapping a butter knife against a champagne glass as he stands at the table. 

“Can I get everyone’s attention?” he asks, his voice loud. Richie raises his champagne glass as he begins his speech with:

“Now as the best man and this Bobby Flay-motherfucker's cousin, I think I earn the right to kick this thing off, eh?” earning a laugh from everyone around the table. 

“To Carmy and his much, much better half,” he continues, earning a laugh from everyone around the table. Your mom squeezes your hand under the table, and out of the corner of your eye you can see Sydney nudging Carmy softly as Richie addresses you. 

“You once made me $150 richer.” You laugh, exchanging a look with your now-husband, as you fondly remember the day you returned to Chicago, only to learn that the entire restaurant staff of The Bear had been betting, not on if, but on when you’d return.

“You see, we all took bets – all of us – that you were comin’ back after that first week you spent here in Chicago, and you know why? I think it was obvious to any jagoff with a pair of eyes that what you and Cousin had was something special – something not to be missed, or overlooked, or skipped over. And thank God you two idiots woke up and figured it out yourselves. You did good, cousin. And I know your brother would’ve wanted to be here for this. I love you, man. I love you both.”

“To this very special day, and to the rest of your lives. Cheers.”

“Cheers!” everyone repeats, raising their glasses, clinking in celebration. 

The upside to having a small wedding party is having a small wedding party, and the downside is that everyone who feels the need to get in a word does so. While Ebraheim waxes on about love as a metaphor, Marcus keeps his toast short, leading to the cutting of your wedding cake:

Vanilla bean cake, with a clementine curd, a swiss meringue buttercream, decorated with delicate flowers, citrus, and dollops of curd to finish. 

Richie slips out with Pete momentarily, earning a few quizzical looks from both Carmy and Nat as she gets up from the table to make sure they’re not trading punches in the driveway. It’s not till Richie returns with Pete, carrying a rented little karaoke machine for Ava. Hand in hand, you watch as Natalie guides Ava up and out of her chair, and over to the head of the table, handing her the microphone. 

“You ready, sweetheart?” she asks, earning a confident nod from Ava. 

The beginning of the famous Taylor Swift begins to play, and you and Carmy exchange a knowing look as she begins to sing along. 

“we were both young when i first saw you i close my eyes and the flashback starts i'm standin' there on a balcony in summer air.”

As Natalie and Pete watch on, Pete hugs his wife close to her, tears in his eyes as he whispers: 

“This is going to be us very, very soon.” 

“Yeah,” Nat nods, holding back her own tears as she notices how proud Richie looks, and how happy Ava seems to be. 

It’s not that she wants Donna here. Realistically, she knows that it would be a nightmare, most likely descending into drama and chaos from the minute she walked in, but she can’t believe that her own mother didn’t come to her son’s wedding. She shouldn’t be surprised, but it hurts more than she imagined, doing this, watching Carmy get married, having this baby with Pete, all without her. 

Ava finishes her Taylor Swing song to a resounding and enthusiastic round of applause. Marcus cheers her on while you and Carmy share a soft, chaste kiss, welcoming Ava with open arms as she runs towards you. 

“That was so good, baby,” Richie exclaims, when it’s his turn to scoop Ava up into his arms as you get out of your seat. Allowing Richie to sit next to Carmy while the two gush over her performance, you get up, eager to help put the karaoke machine away. 

As she watches, Nat reminds herself that this is what family looks like – this is the family she wants for her baby – even if it means something, someones, are missing.

And it’s as if she can’t hold back her tears anymore, excusing herself as she jerks her body away from Pete’s grasp, hurrying back inside so as not to cause a scene. 

“What just-?” Pete begins. 

“I’ll go,” you assure him, having witnessed the whole interaction. “I-, it’s not you, Pete. I’ll go.”

It doesn’t take you long to find Nat, though she’s not where you expected her to be, having run all the way upstairs when you find her sitting on the floor of the baby’s nursery – one you helped paint and get ready over a month ago. 

“Hey, everything alright?” you ask, as you gently push the door open. 

“Yeah, no, I’m fine,” she sniffles, wiping tears out of her eyes as she realizes she’s no longer alone. 

“Nat, what… what’s going on?” you ask her, joining her on the floor. 

But it seems as if your question only makes it worse as her face crumbles once more, beginning to cry. 

“Oh no! I-, Nat, sweetie, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean it even worse.”

“No, no, you didn’t. It’s just these… stupid pregnancy hormones!” she exclaims, frustratedly, earning a small laugh from the both of you. 

She takes a beat, and then a breath, and then finally, she feels ready to tell you. 

“It’s Mom,” she admits, even though she really doesn’t want it to be. “I just can’t believe she didn’t show. It’s stupid, I know.” 

You nod in understanding, before scooting a little closer to her, “It’s not stupid! And I’m sorry. For the both of you, really. Carmy doesn’t want to talk about it but, I know he’s some combination of relieved and disappointed too.” 

Sugar sighs, “Yeah that uh, that sums it up pretty well. About anything involving Mom these days.” 

Nat takes another breath, and another beat, because she knows she’s safe to share this with you. 

“I just… I’ve just been thinking a lot… with the baby and everything. About family. About motherhood. I mean, your parents are so great and I-. I’m just sad for us, you know?”

“I’m sad for you too,” you empathize, rubbing soothing circles on her back, before leaning back on both of your hands instead. 

“God, I’m so sorry. It’s your wedding day and I’m causing all the drama,” Nat begins to apologize. 

“Oh, you have nothing to be sorry for!” you interrupt her, quick to dismiss any notion of that. “You lent us your house and put together all of this in your backyard on top of accompanying us to the courthouse! You have nothing to apologize for.”

Sugar nods slowly, processing what you’ve just said, realizing that you and Pete have been such big role models of unconditional love for her. 

“Wanna know what I think?” you ask, your voice a little more optimistic this time. 

“What’s up?” she asks back, stealing a glance your way. 

“I think… that now that I’m a Berzatto… and with your little Bear on the way,” you begin, painting her the picture. “We’ve got a whole new chance to write a new chapter for the Berzattos.” 

She looks your way once more, because these are the words she didn’t know she needed to hear. 

“And with that… we can make this… make our families anything we want them to be filled with love, and joy, and-, well, only a little drama because you know, you guys are… you. But… Sug. This can all start with us, you know?”

“You really think so?” she asks you, a hopeful look in her eyes. 

“Yeah,” you answer, confidently. 

She nods slowly once more, almost as if she’s letting herself believe them. 

“Thank you. For checking in on me. For… this,” she says softly, sniffling again. 

“That’s what sisters are for,” you repeat her words back to her, one’s that she’s said to you time and time again. 

“We should probably get back out there,” Sugar suggests, sitting up a little taller this time. 

“Yeeeaaaaahhhhh,” you sigh, disappointedly, this time making a joke as you continue with: “We don’t want to start any rumors about us running away together. 

Nat snorts with laughter, thanking you for always making her laugh, as you stand up, making your way to your feet. You hold out your hands, helping Nat up to hers this time, before the two of you head back downstairs. 

“Hey,” Carmy says, as soon as he sees the two of you. “Pete said you disappeared.”

“We were just talking about some stuff,” you reply, sharing a look with Sugar before releasing her hand. 

“I’ll leave the two of you to it,” she says, before slipping out through the back door. 

“Everything okay?” Carmy asks, his brow knitted together in concern. 

You nod, “Yeah, she’s alright. How’re you doing?”

“Today? I’m the luckiest man in the world,” he replies, a smile on his lips that makes you melt. 

“Damn right you are,” you reply, pressing your lips against his. 

It’s a private moment for just you two, where you can kiss him like you want to, and you have to admit that the lipstick holds up. Wrapping your arms around his neck as his hands go to your waist, you propose a grand idea to your husband:

“Now that cake has been cut… what do you say… we spend a little more time with our guests, say our goodbyes… then we get our honeymoon started early? Think uh… our room at the Langham should be ready by now.”

“Thought we already did that this morning,” Carmy smirks, kissing you again. 

You giggle, leaning your forehead against his, “You know what I mean, jerk.” 

Carmy scoffs, shaking his head incredulously as he feigns hurt, “Married for a few hours and you’re already insulting me.” Instead of adding anything else, he simply pulls you in closer by your hips murmuring against your lips:

“Alright then, Mrs. Berzatto. Then let’s go say goodbye to our guests.”

“it's a love story, baby, just say, "yes" – taylor swift, ‘love story’

#the bear hulu #the bear fx #carmen berzatto x you #carmy x oc #jeremy allen white #carmen 'carmy' berzatto #carmy berzatto x reader #carmen berzatto x reader #carmy berzatto headcanon #the bear headcanon #carmy berzatto imagines #carmy berzatto fluff #comfort and chaos #still into you #make my heart surrender #dont want to walk alone #the bear fanfiction #carmy berzatto #carmen berzatto #carmy x you #carmy x reader

[angeldreamsoffanfic]

based loosely around this song from måneskin - enjoy lovies!

-

“AND THE WINNER IS… CORRODED COFFIN!”

Steve Harrington can’t help but holler as the band is announced, his hand being squeezed tightly by Robin Buckley- who lets out her own squeal that could pierce a person’s ears. The two roommates clink their champagne glasses together, hearing their cellphones buzz from wherever they had set them for the moment.

“Fuck, just- shit I’m not supposed to curse up here, huh?” Eddie’s voice is low as he stood on the stage, surrounded by the entire band. The expletives are mainly blipped out for the television version; but Steve couldn’t help but laugh as the audience laughed in real time.

“He’s such a doofus,” Robin fondly teased, eyes bright as she crowded Steve closer. Steve let his eyes dart down to watch Robin curl her legs up under herself, as she dips herself to rest against Steve’s side.

Gareth, Jeff, and Grant all look fondly towards Eddie— all with different varying stages of just pure exasperation written across their faces.

“Anyway-” Eddie drags the word out, holding up his spare hand as the other cradles the award to his hip. The crowd simmers and Eddie shook his head for a second, before dropping his hand to curl back around the microphone. “We thank everyone for this, this’ll be our fourth year in the making of winning this thing, and that’s not a thing we take for granted.”

Gareth stepped up next, and Eddie stepped away with a fond smile on his face. Steve couldn’t help but furrow his brow as both he and Robin leaned forward. That hadn’t been the start of the speech that Eddie had read him just a few days prior over FaceTime.

“Dingus? What’s going on?” Robin asked softly, her nails digging tiny half moons into the palm of Steve’s hand.

“I have no fucking idea, Robs-”

“We have so many people to thank, but we want to focus specifically on the people who helped make this happen.” Gareth’s voice is soft, and Steve knows in the back of his mind that this clip will inevitably make it onto one of the TikToks that Robin insisted (forced) he watch.

“We, however, want to really extend a thank you to our record label.” Jeff spoke up next, his eyes almost glinting as he took his space in front of the microphone.

“Supersonic Records has been a ride to work with and we’re thankful for the opportunity.” Grant droned, voice monotone as he bent his head to speak into the microphone.

He then stepped back, and Eddie was back in the place at the microphone. The rest of the band flanked him, with Grant easily pulling the award out of his hands.

“Which… is why we fucking quit.” Eddie has the microphone in his hands, and Steve let out a small punched out noise at the firmness that is bleeding heavy over Eddie’s words. “Fuck our contract, fuck you Supersonic Records.”

“If I can’t be with my boyfriend in front of this fucking world, there isn’t a point anymore.” Their isn’t time to bleep out Eddie’s curse word, and Eddie bares his teeth as he holds the microphone close to his lips. “Yeah, that’s right folks- not only do I have a boyfriend, Supersonic wanted to hide it from all of you.”

“And we’re done being their pawns,” Gareth is grinning as he leaned into Eddie’s space, and both Jeff and Grant let out loud whoops as the audience cheers loudly along.

Eddie leers then, all teeth and gums as he stared straight into the camera. Steve felt something sink and burn low in his gut, even as Robin let out a squeal from right next to him.

Eddie has the microphone pressed against his lips, and Steve swore if he was any closer- static would be the only thing that came over the amplifiers. His brown doe-eyes are rimmed in a careful swipe of black liner, and he drops his left lid into a quick wink.

The camera zoomed in, just as Eddie made sure to point right toward it.

“Steve Harrington, I bought a plane ticket… and I am coming home to fuck the shit out of you.”

The show manages to bleep the swear in time.

Somewhere deeper in the apartment Steve and Robin are in, he can hear their phones go crazier.

Steve can’t find it in himself to be annoyed either.

#angeldreamsoffanfic #steddie #steddie ficlet #steddie fanfic #rockstar!eddie munson #platonic stobin #corroded coffin #they end up trending on twitter after this #steve has a twitter but doesn’t really understand how to use it #eddie posts two photos on twitter a day later when fans demand updates #the first: eddie and steve hugging in the airport #the second: a mirror photo showing off how scratched up his back is #steve has eddie show him how to retweet it #twitter breaks

[itsscromp]

Had fnaf idea in my head ever since seeing the movie. Was trying to find people who were doing fnaf movies ideas and remembered I'd seen your ask box! Love your works btw

So I had this idea of night guard! Reader whose terrified of the animatronics and try not to get too close to them. But needs the money. And one night someone tries to break into the pizzeria and the animatronics protect them from being hurt/mugged

If your asks aren't open then feel free to ignore this, ♥️

FNAF animatronics x reader

Oohhhh yes yes yes, I love this idea very much anon. I swear this movie has reawakened my childhood. Word count:943

You were incredibly strapped for cash, The last job barely kept you afloat, you weren't able to pay your rent or afford your groceries. you were running out of options really fast. Heading to your career's councillor Steve Raglan. He said that there may be a job for you.

A security guard at the old pizzeria, but the place was abandoned. why would you be offered a job like that ??. He stated that the owner was just not ready to let it go yet. Not to mention, they had those creepy ass animatronics... There was just something about them that sent shudders up your spine. Maybe it was how life-sized they looked or the way they moved... its just... *shudders*

But right now you didn't have any choice, so you took the job. Your first shift was the next night, 12 a.m. on the dot. You entered the pizzeria and looked around, it was very retro. Save for the dust everywhere. You then noticed the stages on the far end. Was it where... they were housed.

"Keep walking keep walking...." You said to yourself, But for one reason or another, your feet kept walking to the stage. Your hand reached the curtain as you pulled it back, turning on your flashlight and got scared when the first face you saw was bonnie the bunny.

"Nope, not having it"

You rushed to the office immediately, not wanting to look at them one bit.

Once in your office you switched on the power, the pizzeria now buzzing with life as if it was never changed one bit. Switching on the camera's the first thing you saw was the animatronics again, this time two more you didn't see. Chica the chicken and Freddy Fazbear.

You also noticed another stage nearby, but the curtains were closed with the sign 'Out of order' on the front. Whatever that was behind their, you didn't want to find out.

Over a couple of nights, when you entered for work. You rushed straight to your office, not wanting to even look at them. God why did you have to be scared of animatronics ??.

Spying the camera's again, you just saw the same stuff as last time, but what the camera's didn't pick up was the back.

"Come on hurry up !!" A person in a hood said.

"I'm trying man !!" Another said as they tried to pick at the lock of the roller door before managing to unlock it.

"Alright, you know what to do"

The two entered the pizzeria with the malicious intent of robbing the place. the cameras picked them up near the supply closet. You quickly got up and investigated.

"Who's there ?? Come on out right now" You shouted.

"Shit, run !!!" They immediately bolted, you began to rush for them.

"HEY !!!!"

You ran after them leading back to the main area of the pizzeria, where you were met with a chair to the face, knocking you over to the floor as you were instantly jumped on, one with their foot on your arm holding it as well.

"Piss off and leave us be, or you'll get what's coming, kid !!!" He warned as the other began to search you for your wallet, phone and car keys.

"Get off !!!' You tried to squirm out but this only increased the pressure on your arm, threatening to break. "Gaah !!"

"Got their keys, come on !!" the thief said as he got up and turned to the entrance, only to be met by a large figure... It's eyes glowing red. It was Freddy Fazbear.

"What the he..." Before he could even say a full sentence, Freddy quickly turned the tables. Grabbing his arm and breaking it, Making him fall over. screaming in pain.

"Th/n !!" His accomplice shouted as he tried to help him only to be met with a sharp pain in his ankle. What looked like a cupcake which was a part of Chica's set was biting him, Even it and Chica's eyes were glowing red. You scrambled to the corner watching the madness ensue in such confusion. How were the animatronics moving on their damn own !!!, Someone had to be controlling them. But how could they if you were the only damn one here !!

Two more animatronics emerged, Bonnie and one that came from the Out of order stage, It looked like it spent a lot of time inside there from how damaged its body was. The fox animatronic then slashed one thief across the back with its hook, drawing blood. Letting out a blood curling scream as they immediately retreated.

You were scared. Fully and petrifying scared, Seeing what they were capable of, You hid your face from them. Completely frozen in fear. But what you didn't expect was Freddy's hand gently as a feather placed on your shoulder, almost in a way comforting you.

You started to hesitantly look up at them all, Their eyes all no longer red. Back to their natural colours. They all gave you a comforting look.

"Your... You're not going to hurt me ??" You asked them all cautiously.

Bonnie closed his eyes and shook his shoulders as if he was giggling, In a way saying "No we won't hurt you".

Freddy helped you up and gently brought you in for a hug. You couldn't help but smile at them, Wrapping your arms around his body.

"Thank you guys"

The others gave you a cute look Like they just met a new best friend for their little group. And that is what it exactly was. Maybe they weren't so bad after all...

Part 2 ??

Taglist: @callofdudes @fun-k-board @gooptoshi

#platonic #reader insert #fnaf movie #five nights at freddy's movie #five nights at freddy's #Freddy fazbear #Chica the chicken #Bonnie the bunnie #Foxy the pirate #fnaf x reader #fazgang x reaer

[jackles010378]

Saturday night special

(Jensen Ackles x you)

When Jensen over hears you singing, he works out a way to get to sing with you in front of a live crowd......

Y/n stood amidst the chaos that was the aftermath of yet another supernatural convention. As always, she found herself tasked with the duty of cleaning up the mess left behind by the boisterous crowd. Armed with a trash bag and a broom, she went about her work. But this time, something was different.

Lost in her own world of melodies, Y/n had her trusty headphones on, with her favorite tunes blasting through them. She was singing along to the music, oblivious to the world around her. Her voice resonated through the empty halls as she danced, completely absorbed in the joy of the music.

Unbeknownst to her, Jensen Ackles her favourite actor had returned to the convention center to retrieve his wallet he had absentmindedly left in the green room. As he approached the door to the green room, he heard a voice that captivated him. He followed the sound, drawn to the angelic tones that filled the air.

Peeking through the slightly ajar door, Jensen was stunned to find Y/n there, sweeping the floor while pouring her heart into the lyrics. Unable to tear his gaze away, he marveled at the raw emotion in her voice. It was a moment of vulnerability that struck a chord in his own heart. She was singing one of his band's songs, "Ain't no tellin" if he could hear it right. He stood there, continuing to watch through the gap in the door as she finished the song,

Knowin' you see me

When I'm 'round the way

Just remember

It'll be alright

And if it's only

Stealing another day

Well then find another time along the way

And ask yourself

Who are you holding onto now?

Oh, who are you holding onto now?

Tell me, who are you holding onto now?

Oh, who are you holding onto now?

Oh, who are you holding onto now?

(There ain't no tellin' no)

Oh, who are you holding onto now?

(There ain't no tellin' no)

Oh, who are you holding onto now?

(There ain't no tellin' no)

Who are you holding onto now?

Ohh yeah

There ain't no tellin' no

Far away

Every night and every day.....

Jensen let the door close slowly and softly so you wouldn't hear it and pulled his phone out of his pocket. Dialling a number as he walked away the person the other end answered "hey Cliff, I'm gonna need you to do some detective work for me" he said with the biggest smile on his face.

The following night, during the highly anticipated Saturday night concert, Jensen whispered to his co-star and friend, Rob Benedict. A mischievous smile played on his lips as he shared his desire to sing with Y/n. Rob's eyes twinkled with excitement as he agreed to help set up the surprise performance.

As the concert reached its peak, Rob made an announcement to the crowd, his voice filled with anticipation. "Ladies and gentlemen, we have a special treat for you tonight. Our very own Jensen Ackles will be gracing the stage with a special guest!"

Y/n, who had been enjoying the concert from the sidelines, felt a mixture of surprise and nervousness as she realized all eyes were on her. Y/n was never usually allowed to watch the concerts, with her just being a cleaner she never had the same perks as the other staff that were around to help, but tonight her manager asked for her to be present in the main hall just in case of any mishaps. She felt a gentle tap on her shoulder and turned to find Rob smiling mischievously, pointing towards Jensen who stood on stage, microphone in hand.

Her heart raced in her chest as Jensen extended his hand, his eyes filled with a glimmer of hope. A shy smile adorned Y/n's face as she mustered the courage to take his hand. With a mix of elation and trepidation, she found herself walking towards the stage, feeling the weight of the crowd's anticipation.

As the lights dimmed and the spotlight shone upon them, Y/n and Jensen shared a moment. The beginning chords of Shallow echoed throughout the room as y/n recognised the song. As small smile graced her lips as this was a favourite of hers. She stood in awe, watching as Jensen sang.

Realising it was her turn she took a deep breath. The crowd went silent as her voice filled the room, bouncing off the walls. The entire room fell silent as she sang, Jensen standing by her side listening to her as if it was the first time he had heard her. Thinking back to the moment he stumbled upon her first time round. He thanked himself for leaving his wallet in the green room that night.

The chemistry between them was electric, their voices resonating through the venue, captivating the hearts of everyone present.

In that enchanting moment, Y/n's shyness melted away, replaced by an overwhelming sense of joy. She realized that sometimes, it's in the moments of vulnerability that our true talents shine brightest. The crowd erupted in applause, their voices melding with Y/n and Jensen's, creating an atmosphere of pure magic.

From that night on, Y/n embraced her musical talents with newfound confidence. Her collaboration with Jensen became the stuff of legends, their duets continuing to captivate supernatural conventions for years to come. Jensen would always see if she was available to sing with him when he returned and she'd always say yes.

As she stepped off that stage that night, she knew that sometimes, the most extraordinary moments in life happen when we let go of your fears and take a leap of faith.

TAGLIST: @k-slla @cevansbaby-dove @kaleldobrev @janineb86 @deans-daydream @alternativeprincess94 @nescavaneck

#jensen ackles #dean winchester #supernatural #jackles #jensen ross ackles #spn cast #soldier boy #deanwinchtser #jensen ackles gifs #beau arlen #jensen ackles x reader #jensen ackles imagine #jensen ackles fanfiction #jensen ackles fic #jensen ackles fluff #jensen ackles x female!reader #jensen ackles x y/n #jensen ackles x you #jensen x you #jen

[sourwolf-sterek32]

Idiotic Hero

Summary: Nikki Sixx chooses a random fan from the crowd to come on stage and it happens to be you. But what happens when a person with a knife pushes through security and runs straight towards you both?

Pairings: Nikki Sixx x Reader, Mötley Crüe & Reader

Word Count: 3.9k

Warnings- language, blood, serious injury, mentions of past drug & alcohol abuse

Part 1

The World Tour: Mötley Crüe and Def Leppard.

It was actually happening. Eight years since Mötley Crüe's 'final tour' in 2015 and they were back performing live not just in front of crowds on a stage but in front of tens of thousands of fans in stadiums all across the world.

You couldn't stop pinching yourself as you leant against the barricade in the front row of their concert. How you even managed to get such great tickets was a question you still couldn't answer but you were so incredibly happy.

Growing up your father raised you on rock music. Mötley Crüe, Aerosmith, AC/DC, Guns 'N Roses, Bon Jovi, Alice Cooper, the list was basically infinite.

There was no shortage of rock music in your childhood house. Your father was the one who introduced you to Mötley Crüe, but little five-year-old you had no idea how far your obsession and hyper-fixation with this band would go.

From listening to Girls Girls Girls in the back of your father's truck on the way to school to blasting Kickstart My Heart many years later while driving home from your dead-end job. Mötley Crüe was your favourite band. As a child you enjoyed their music, blissfully unaware of the meaning behind some of their songs as you shouted the lyrics from the backseat. But despite liking their music at a young age, you never became a full-on fan or Crüehead until you were older.

Now, you understood the meaning behind their songs and lyrics... some quite questionable (yes, I'm looking at you All In The Name Of...) but they were still great songs that resonated deeply within you. Now you were older you were able to properly appreciate the music. Most of Mötley Crüe's songs were close to your heart. Afraid and Home Sweet Home more so than any others.

Being able to see them live in person was something you were still struggling to comprehend. Even now as you stood in front of the barricade staring at the empty stage in front of you waiting for the concert to start, it was still unimaginable. It felt as if you were dreaming. And you feared that your alarm clock would wake you up any minute. But that annoying ringtone never rang, instead loud emergency buzzing started as the large screens either side of the stage lit up with the words;

'NATIONAL ALERT Primary Entry Point System Issued an Emergency Action Notification'

If you hadn't been so obsessed with this band, you might have been worried reading those words and hearing the emergency alarm. But you had already seen YouTube videos of their World Tour concerts and knew the show was about to get wild. Literally.

The guitar intro for Wild Side started shortly after and you stood there mouth agape in awe as John 5, Mötley's new guitarist, appeared out of nowhere shredding on his guitar.

Many hated John 5 simply because of the fact he was standing where Mick Mars used to be. And yeah, you understood that. Mick Mars is an absolute beast with a guitar, but John 5 was a damn good guitarist too. From playing with Rob Zombie and Marilyn Manson, John 5 had the experience and the skill to continue on Mick's legacy with Mötley Crüe. And he was proving that right before your eyes.

Suddenly drums joined in with the guitar and your head snapped to the left in shock to find Tommy Lee sitting behind his drum kit. You had been so focused on John 5 in his long white coat you didn't even notice Tommy sneaking up on stage and by the screams coming from the mass crowd behind you, nobody else did either.

Then Nikki Sixx and Vince Neil rushed out from the side onto the stage, and you began screaming in pure happiness with the crowd.

This was real.

Mötley Crüe were here. They were right in front of you.

Holy fucking shit.

It was actually happening.

Your internal freak out was cut short when Vince began to scream those first words and suddenly everything else around you faded away as you got sucked into the music.

All your life issues and problems outside of this stadium vanished. All the stress and pressure from work, gone. Nothing else mattered in this moment as you stared at the band, at the four men on stage who meant everything to you.

"How you guys doing tonight?!" Vince shouted through the microphone after finishing Wild Side and Shout At The Devil. Hewalked up to the front of the stage staring out at the crowd who all cheered and screamed in response. "Now tell me, who likes to listen to the old shit?"

The crowd went ballistic and you right along with them as you screamed up at Vince who was smirking at the fans. Vince Neil was a showman. He loved performing and putting on a show for everyone. This was what he was born to do and even now at 62 years of age, he was still rocking it.

"How about something from the first album?" He asked and the crowd cheered so loudly it hurt your ears and Vince grinned turning back to his bandmates. "Let's do it!"

John 5 suddenly unleashed on his guitar, Tommy joining in with his drums and you grinned ear to ear recognising Too Fast For Love instantly.

Don't Go Away Mad Live Wire Looks That Kill The Dirt

Song after song and you were in pure bliss listening to them play while screaming along with Vince to the words. And when Tommy sat down behind the piano that got wheeled onto stage, tears were burning in your eyes before the song even started.

Home Sweet Home.

This song meant so much to you. After moving out of home young for your career and living over eight hours away from your friends and family this song hit you harder than any other.

You knew there was a chance you'd tear up during this song, but after the first few words "you know I'm a dreamer" you were done for. Silent tears trickled down your face as you sung the words that meant so much to you.

Nikki walked around the back of the piano patting Tommy's shoulder before he stood at the edge of stage right in front of you. His eyes scanned over the crowd in amazement. Even after 40+ years of touring you could tell that Nikki never took this for granted as he stared out at his fans in genuine happiness.

"But my heart's of gold I had to run away high So I wouldn't come home low"

Nikki placed his hand over his inner elbow while Vince sang which only made you cry harder knowing all about his battle with heroin that had killed him back in 1987. You briefly thought back to his book The Heroin Diaries and all the pain and suffering inside those pages. Nikki had been through so much shit yet overcame his drug and alcohol addictions and was now living his best life. 22 years sober. You were so incredibly proud of him.

Suddenly, as if Nikki could somehow sense your thoughts his head turned, and his beautiful smoky eyes locked with yours.

"Take me to your heart." You sang in tune with Vince as Nikki placed his hand over his heart while maintaining eye contact.

You continued to sing the lyrics. Nikkis smile widening with each word. Tears were still trickling down your face, but you didn't wipe them away as you sang, and he eventually turned his attention away leaving you standing there feeling breathless.

Now that your eyes weren't locked with the bassist you took a moment to turn and look at the crowd yourself. Lights from phones illuminated the entire stadium. You stood there with wide eyes watching all the lights going round and round in tune with the beat while Vince sung his heart out.

After Home Sweet Home they got into Smokin' In The Boys Room. It was amazing.

As they continued through the songs, you occasionally caught Nikki looking at you. Sometimes briefly, just one flash of his beautiful smoky eyes before he was looking away again. But sometimes he'd hold your gaze for a few moments while he strummed away on his bass, and you sang the words to each and every song with so much passion and enthusiasm.

Nikki probably thought you were crazy. You knew every word to every song and hell, you were even sporting his signature black war stripes on your cheeks that matched his own identically.

"I wanna introduce you to somebody who's up here." Vince suddenly said through the microphone. "He's my brother. He's a badass. And he's a bass player. Give it up for Mr. Nikki Sixx!" Vince shouted pointing at the bassist in question who began walking to the front of the stage his bass no longer strapped around his shoulder.

Nikki and Vince fist bumped as they walked past each other. The singer disappeared off stage for a drink break with the rest of the band leaving Nikki alone on stage as he walked up to the microphone pole.

"Well, how the fuck are you guys doing?" Nikki called out speaking for the first time. "Anyone wanna come up here on stage with me?"

Your heart thundered in your chest like a drum as Nikki's eyes scanned the crowd before locking with yours. Then your heart quite literally stopped and all you could do was stare right back at him as he pointed at you and curled his finger up in a come here motion.

"Get that beautiful girl up here." Nikki ordered his gaze holding yours for a moment before he turned back to the rest of the crowd and continued to talk about the tour.

If someone held a gun to your head and told you to repeat what Nikki was now talking about. You'd be dead because you were not listening to a word the bassist was saying anymore as blood rushed in your ears. All you could focus on was the security guard walking over to you as you shakily began climbing over the barricade.

The guard helped you over safely before guiding you around to the side of stage and pointed at the stairs without a word.

Wait, were you meant to just walk up the stairs onto the stage? Did Nikki want you up there now? Oh, God you were panicking and overthinking this.

"I saw you singing every word to every song. Come up here." Nikki's voice cut through your internal panic as he appeared at the top of the stairs and held his hand out towards you.

Sucking in a deep breath trying to calm your nerves, you took Nikki's hand and climbed onto stage. And holy fuck there were a lot of people in that crowd. It was a never-ending sea of fans packed into the stadium and all of them were staring at you and Nikki.

"It's okay. Don't be nervous, sweetheart." Nikki whispered lowering the microphone so nobody else could hear him. "What's your name?"

"Y/N."

He smiled, "pretty name. It suits you."

You couldn't stop the small smile from spreading across your face at his compliment as you ducked your head feeling your cheeks blushing.

"It's fans like you guys that make all this possible." Nikki began to say into the microphone before he wrapped his arm around your shoulders and pulled you into his side. "And if you'll have us, we will be back soon I promise you that!"

The crowd erupted in applause and screams causing you to flinch not expecting it. Nikki's arm tightened around you ever so slightly noticing your reaction. He continued to talk to the crowd while holding you against his side. You allowed yourself to relax in his hold and leant into his touch getting memorised by his musky cologne.

It was hard to believe Nikki Sixx was 64. He still ran around on stage with his bass like he did back in the 80s. Well, maybe not as much. Nikki did used to drink Jack Daniels straight from the bottle and roll around on stage back in the day. His beard and hair were obviously dyed now, but he looked damn good for his age. The thick muscular arm holding onto you was enough proof to say that Nikki Sixx aged like fine wine. He was only getting better and better as the years passed.

"I have a very important question for you." Nikki began to say, and you tilted your head up surprised to find him looking right back at you.

Oh, he wasn't talking to the crowd anymore. He was talking straight to you.

His face was so close to yours you could smell a hint of mint on his breath. It was strangely refreshing.

You bit your lip nervously and nodded staring into his beautiful sea green eyes awaiting his question anxiously.

"What song would you like us to play next? It's your choice."

Oh my God.

The crowd all started shouting song names that you couldn't quite decipher as you held Nikki's gaze. He was smirking like he could see you suddenly panicking because despite the fact that you knew every single one of their songs from all the albums, you were coming up blank.

Nothing.

Not one song title was coming to mind.

"Give us a song we haven't played in years!" A familiar voice called out causing the crowd to cheer.

You glanced over your shoulder to find Tommy Lee strolling back onto stage with his drum sticks in his hands. God, he had aged like fine wine too.

Then Vince Neil and John 5 began to make their way back on the stage. Hell, all of Mötley Crüe had aged like fine wine, who were you kidding? John 5 was younger than the others but still looked fantastic in his 50s. Vince always copped so much hate on social media due to his weight gain, but fuck those haters because Vince Neil looked damn good for his age. And he had lost a significant amount of weight since their last tour back in 2015.

Mötley Crüe's good looks were not helping your sudden internal freak out though as you turned your head back to Nikki who was smiling at you like he knew what was running through your head.

"Afraid from Generation Swine or Knock 'Em Dead Kid from Too Fast For Love. You can pick which one you like better." You hurriedly answered the second your brain decided to actually function.

You were honoured to be able to choose the next song, but was worried that you'd pick a song the guys wouldn't like or a song that you couldn't remember very well. At least this way the four of them could decide which one they wanted to play themselves.

Nikki grinned, "I knew I picked you for a reason. You're clearly a fan. I like you."

Hearing those words coming from Nikki Sixx himself was something you didn't know you needed to hear. Your heart fluttered as you smiled at him but didn't dare trust yourself to speak fearing you'd either stutter your words and make a fool of yourself or just start bawling your eyes out from happiness.

"Fuck yeah! You have no idea how many people just pick the popular songs. It's boring." Vince's voice piped up through his own microphone.

"Why don't we play both?" John suggested.

Nikki glanced back down at you and opened his mouth to speak but then the crowd suddenly started shouting snapping his attention away from you abruptly.

The shouting from the crowd didn't sound right though. And by the way Nikki's body had turned tense on alert beside you, you knew something was wrong.

The fans in the crowd closest to the stage were all yelling and pointing at something behind you. Nikki quickly turned, his arm slipping from your shoulder as you spun around and that's when you saw the stranger running on stage.

Vince and John quickly backed away while security swarmed the area frantically trying to climb up onto the stage to stop the unknown man. Nikki raised his arm in front of your body almost protectively as the man turned towards you both with a crazed look in his eye.

Suddenly, he bolted straight towards you. But he wasn't looking at you. His wide eyes were zeroed in on one thing and one thing only, Nikki Sixx.

Security were hot on his tail. But the man was fast. Too fast. Then, he reached into his jacket pocket, and you saw a flash of a silver blade.

In a split second you realised two things; one, security weren't going to stop this crazy man in time and two, he had a knife and he was heading straight for Nikki.

Without thinking you pushed the bassist to the side not expecting your own sudden strength as Nikki fell off the side of the stage. But you didn't have time to worry if he was okay or not because the next thing you knew the crazy man crashed straight into you instead of his intended target.

You stumbled back a few steps at the impact but managed to keep your feet before shoving him off you. That was all the time security needed before they grabbed the crazy man who instantly started thrashing like a wild animal in their grip.

The crowd around you had turned eerily silent as they watched security struggling to contain the intruder. More guards jumped onto the stage to assist and eventually the group of them managed to get the man under control and began escorting him off stage.

Your heartbeat was skyrocketing. Body shaking with adrenaline as you breathed heavily watching the man still trying to fight the guards.

Wait, Nikki.

As if on cue, the bassist appeared out of nowhere after lifting himself up the side of the stage with a grunt before limping over to you. Guilt instantly washed over you because he was favouring his right foot and it clearly hurt.

"I'm so sorry. Are you okay?" You hurriedly questioned rushing over to him on instinct as you looked down at his boot worriedly.

"Am I okay? Are you?" He questioned in shock his eyes raking over your body looking for any signs of injury.

But then his face drained of all colour and his eyes paused over your midsection and widen into saucers.

You frowned and followed his line of sight and had to do a double take when you saw the knife sticking out your lower abdomen.

The man stabbed you.

How the hell did you not notice that?

Suddenly, it was as if a switch had been flipped and the adrenaline soaring through your veins began to subside and that's when the pain started. White hot pain radiated through your body like a fire burning from within.

"Oh fuck." Nikki swore under his breath.

Without thinking, you reached down with shaky fingers and grabbed the handle of the knife.

"Wait, don't-"

You yanked the blade out before Nikki could finish that sentence.

It hurt. You needed to get it out. But that did nothing to stop the pain though. If anything, it hurt more causing you to cry out as the blade slipped from your now bloodied fingers and fell to the floor of the stage.

Blood began to pour from the open wound like a dam bursting. Oh, that was a bad idea. That was a really bad idea.

You quickly covered the wound with your hand knowing you needed to keep pressure on it to slow the bleeding, but warm red liquid was already oozing out from between your fingers, staining your shirt and dripping down your pants.

The crowd was silent as the thousands of fans watched on in pure shock. Mötley Crüe concerts were never quiet. Even between songs the crowd were up and around cheering and screaming, but not tonight. Nobody moved. Nobody dared to speak as they all stared at you in the middle of the stage.

Everything around you started to turn blurry as you took a staggering step back. Your legs buckling from underneath you but before you hit the ground, Nikki's strong hands were on you. Gently he eased your body down onto the floor moving slowly not wanting to hurt you further as he laid you down.

Suddenly his hands were removing yours from the wound so he could take in the damage but clearly didn't like what he saw as he cursed under his breath. His hands quickly pressed down against the stab wound on your stomach causing you to whimper at the pain it caused.

"I know. I know. I'm sorry. I need to keep pressure on it. I'm sorry." Nikki apologised, his sea green eyes filled with so much panic as he looked over his shoulder. "We need a medic!"

"We need a medic on stage!" Vince's voice repeated through a microphone loudly.

Nikki frantically pulled out the bandana from his back pocket and bundled it up before pressing the material against the wound. But the once blue and white fabric soon turned a dark crimson.

"Shit. Shit. Where's the medic?!" Nikki shouted desperately.

Vince suddenly appeared over his shoulder unsure what was going on but when he saw all the blood his face paled. The singer frantically ripped off his scarf and knelt beside Nikki pressing it down against the blood-soaked bandana causing you to wince at the pain.

"Fuck. What happened? Did he stab her?" Vince questioned taking in all the blood.

"He wanted to stab me. But she stopped him." Nikki muttered angrily through gritted teeth. "Where's the fucking medic?"

You glanced to the side just in time to see John 5 dropping his guitar and running off stage to find a medic as Tommy sprinted over but froze when he realised what was happening.

"I'm sorry." You said, your voice barely above a whisper.

"Shh. It's okay, save your energy. You're gonna be fine, okay? You're gonna be fine." Nikki reassured, but you weren't sure if he was trying to reassure you or himself.

"Get that fucking camera out of here!" Tommy's voice boomed in the background somewhere, but everything was starting to spin as your eyes fluttered shut.

"Hey. No, no, no, wake up. Y/N, sweetheart, open your eyes." Nikkis voice begged before a hand suddenly cupped the side of your face and you forced your eyes open to find Nikki's panicked green one's looking straight at you. "Stay awake, you hear me? Stay awake."

"Sixx, it's not stopping." Vince warned grimacing at the now blood-soaked scarf he was still using as a makeshift bandage over the wound.

"Damnit." Nikki hissed, pushing his hand down harder in attempt to stem the blood flow causing you to groan in agony. "Sorry. Sorry. I know it hurts. I'm sorry."

"Just hold on a little longer, kid." Vince instructed while frantically looking around for the medic.

"There-there are worst ways to die." You winced, your tired eyes flicking between Nikki and Vince before Tommy dropped to his knees on your other side. His shaking hands hovered over your stomach not sure what to do to help as he stared at you helplessly terrified. "Dying with... with Mötley Crüe by my side ain't a bad way to-to go out."

"No." Nikki shook his head. "You're not dying. Not on my watch."

"It's okay." You whispered, his bloodied hand still cupping your face.

"It's not okay. Nothing about this is okay. Fuck! You shouldn't have pushed me out the way-"

"It doesn't hurt anymore. It's okay." Your voice was becoming weaker as you struggled to keep your eyes open.

"Shit." Vince swore knowing that was bad.

The guys all looked around at each other their fearful panicked expressions matching. They didn't know what else to do and you were fading fast.

"Over here!" John 5 shouted sprinting back onto the stage with two paramedics hot on his tail. "She was stabbed and- fuck, that's a lot of blood."

The last thing you saw was Tommy and Vince trying to pull Nikki away from you as paramedics rushed over before everything faded into darkness.

-

Next Chapter

MASTERLIST pinned to profile If anyone wants to be tagged just let me know

A/N: I am writing this purely for myself and if anyone else happens to read and like it, then that's a bonus. The first part of this fic was based on my own personal experience during their concert last year but obviously everything after going on stage is completely made up.

If I was the girl he asked to go on stage I would either just start crying or pass out... maybe both.

#nikki sixx #motley crue #motley crue x reader #motley crue fanfiction #tommy lee #vince neil #john 5 #nikki sixx x reader #nikki sixx fanfiction #tommy lee x reader #tommy lee fanfic #pov #imagine #fanfic #80s rock #80s music #glam rock

[shares-a-vest]

This post isn't me stopping myself from screaming Beyonce was robbed.

also inspired by THIS post that got me thinking about Steddie at the Grammys.

AU where Steve Harrington is at the Grammys, just a smaller indie artist who finds himself nominated for Best Rock Album. He's in the same category as Corroded Coffin, a metal band who similarly, aren't expected to win. The favourite is some younger group who are basically just pop with a bit of an edge. Plus they've all been shoved at tables that certainly aren't the main attraction, away from centre stage and constant camera pans.

Steve's "date" is his best friend Robin, and every question (okay, the few questions he got) on the red carpet were about her. And they just laughed and fumbled their way through answers that never technically answered if they are dating or not.

There's a commercial break in the ceremony, so a lot of people are mingling. It's pretty crowded and loud and Steve is starting to feel overwhelmed... And his category is up soon. Oh god, what if he wins...

"Great album, man," someone says as a hand claps on his shoulder.

Robin makes some kind of excited squee noise and Steve feels her fumble around at her feet.

"I'm going for more drinks!" she practically shouts in his ear, leaving it ringing.

Before Steve can turn around she disappears.

"Your girlfriend knows it's table service, right?" the voice offers.

Steve finally turns around to find the lead singer of Corroded Coffin saying before him, smiling. He's dressed in leather pants with a sheer black top under his jacket, exposing a chest tattoo. He looks completely different to the wild performance he gave about half an hour ago, screaming and trashing about on stage and not sending Steve's heart racing.

He must be staring because the Hot Lead Singer of Corroded Coffin furrows his brow.

"Oh, um," Steve stutters, clutching his place card in his hands once again. It's completely tattered now from fiddling with it most of the night.

"First time here?" the man asks, quickly moving behind him to sit in Robin's vacated seat.

"Yeah," Steve replies. "It's a lot."

The man laughs, fluttering his eyelashes as he props an arm on the table, exposing ring-adorned fingers. Gosh, he's pretty.

"It makes for a pretty cool date night."

"Oh, Rob - Robin!" Steve chokes and awkwardly thumbs behind him. "She's not my girlfriend."

The man nods, looking him over. Steve blushes and scrambles to add, "Your performance was great."

"Felt like we were asked to perform to appease rock fans, really," he shrugs. "It's all overproduced garbage now. Not you though!"

He places a hand on Steve's knee at that last point.

"Thanks," Steve huffs, bashful as he ignores the panic reaching every inch of his being.

"Name's Eddie," Eddie clarifies.

"Steve!" he... announces?

What was that? Can he actually be not this, right now...

He's saved by the bell as the event announcer informs the audience of the return from the commercial break and begins listing the next categories. Eddie squeezes Steve's thigh.

"Talk later," he smiles, before darting back to his table.

Neither Steve nor Corroded Coffin win. As predicted, it's the pop/not-really-rock group. Steve nods his way through condolences at his table, including his manager and Robin who had far too higher expectations.

As soon as the winners leave the stage, the overhead announcer informs of yet another commercial break. And before Steve knows it, Eddie is back, crouching down beside him and placing his hand over his.

"Tough luck, Steve," he says, although he doesn't look at least a bit disappointed. "Wanna go to the afterparty with me?"

Steve looks to Robin for approval.

"Yes," she says through gritted teeth, kicking him hard under the table.

He closes his eyes and winces at the pain. Does she really need to be this kind of a wingman at the goddamn Grammys?

"Sure," he says to Eddie, wincing again because he's sounding way too casual (and he might also be bracing himself for another kick).

"Great!" Eddie beams and leans in, close enough to whisper. "We're gonna have some fun."

#i didnt just come home from a swim to find out harry won album of the year #im being so fiiine about it #steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie au #steddie headcanon #corroded coffin #steddie ficlet #lilys ficlets

[sunflowerskies00]

bet my heart, part 1

this moon's gonna turn into daylight

series masterlist

Flying was possibly my least favorite thing in the entire world. This was unfortunate because as someone who was on tour and had to travel by plane all the time- it’s an awful thing to dislike. If I had it my way it would be a tour bus or car everywhere. However, my best friend had just been named captain of his professional hockey team, which meant I needed to be in Canada. So I got off the stage in Miami and was currently on a flight to Vancouver so I could be there to celebrate with Quinn and make fun of him during his photos, as a best friend should.

The nice part about being one of the biggest names in music? Private jet. The only thing that made flying tolerable. My manager had insisted on sending security with me so poor Rob had to come with, but I had insisted on getting him the nicest hotel possible. I was staying at Quinn’s, and I had already informed Rob I would call him if I needed him but I didn’t need him to follow me around all weekend. I’d be fine. I knew he'd be following me around anyways, it's a 'safety concern' for me to not have at least one person around.

~*~

I have the car drop me off at Quinn’s before taking Rob to his hotel and making a promise to Rob that I'd send him a text when I was safe and inside. I head straight up to Quinn’s apartment and before I can raise my fist to knock the door swings open. He wraps his arms around me and pulls me into a hug. 

“Hey S,” he swings me in a circle. 

“Missed you Quinny,” I mumble into his shoulder. 

“I missed you too,” he puts my feet back on the ground. “How did you convince the minions to give you time off?” He asks. The “minions” is how Quinn refers to my team of people. 

“I said that I needed a break from the studio and that I was coming to Vancouver to see you, no arguments,” I shrug. “How’s the fam?” I ask, walking into his living room and plopping onto the couch. 

“Everyone’s good, my mom and dad are coming to visit in a couple of weeks I think.”

“I miss Ellen and Jim, and Michigan,” I sigh. “And people not knowing who I am wherever I go.” Quinn pulls me into a side hug, my head falling onto his shoulder. 

“You have a break this summer right?” He asks. “A long one?” 

“Yeah, I decided on no touring and no recording for the whole summer, June through September are going to be work-free, well sort of, writing still has to happen, I'm supposed to release an album this fall."

“Come to Michigan,” he says. I glance over at him, raising an eyebrow. I always went to Michigan so I was confused. “I know you normally come for a couple of weeks, but come for your entire break. You're less cranky and frustrated when you're there.”

“Sure Quinny,” I agree, ignoring the part of that statement where he called me cranky and frustrated. I yawn and it’s not lost on me when I snuggle farther into his shoulder.

#quinn hughes #quinn hughes imagine #quinn hughes fic #vancover canucks #jack hughes #luke hughes #nhl imagine #nhl hockey #trevor zegras #cole caufield #quinn hughes x oc

[dimensionzero]

so anyway if y'all've got an insatiable craving after atsv, here's some spiderverse fics that deserve some love!

gotta start with Spiders' Night Out! by Chaos_and_Sparkles, my favourite of the rapidly forming pavitr-and-hobie-rob-the-british-museum genre --- in this one, their master plan drags the Spot along for the ride and it's great

courage (never forgotten) by stars_and_scars1 is an interesting character study on miles during atsv. I'm very intrigued by the writing style. it might go well with Look at me, falling fast by umwelt, gwen's POV of her visit with miles, which manages to be extremely funny and kind of heartbreaking at the same time.

speaking of gwen, State of Grace by Fichistory is gwen's POV of itsv, and I love her and miles in this one, I will be imagining it as her inner monologue every time I rewatch itsv after this. I'm also obsessed with how 14Passionz describes earth-65's mood-ring watercolour style throughout ink pallette, a great fic to cry about over gwen and her dad. and rounding out my gwen recs is the mark of a true spider-man by joshriku, in which gwen crowd-sources the meaning of being spider-man and has a conversation with peter b about, y'know. the elephant in the room.

if you're in the mood for a laugh, please read restorative justice by Nanashi07, the one where miles decides to rehabilitate miguel using restorative justice techniques while gwen and hobie heckle them and peter b cackles from the sidelines. for a slightly angstier post-atsv fic, there's also i only see you in the city light by yukla, in which miles has struggles and hobie is a bro. and you can find yet more post-atsv fics with the run run fast as you can series by Quillium (speaking of Quillium, they've also got equifinality, in which prowler!miles gets forcibly befriended by spider-man. while trying to murder him. it's complicated.); my favourite of the series has to be pavitr prabhakar and being spider-man, a character study that addresses how pav must feel over his friends knowing about canon events and not telling him in a way that feels very true to his character.

speaking of pavitr, Chaos_and_Sparkles is also writing a character study/speculative backstory for him in One Must Imagine Sisyphus Happy, which starts off very sweet and funny and halfway through takes a deep dive into angst. if you want sweet and funny all the way through, try na dekhi koi aisi girl by whatcaniwriteinthis, a pavitr/gayatri meet-cute. Who wants to punch a fascist? by I_have_hella_nice_abbs is a different kind of sweet and funny with noir and hobie bonding, three guesses how--- I like noir's internal monologue in this one a lot. and speaking of hobie, my favourite fic centred around him has to be Teenage Anarchist by gender_bender08, a character study that runs from his recruitment into spider-society to his exit-stage-center from atsv. it does both hobie and his relationships really really well.

and lastly, this is technically an older one but I can't make a spiderverse fic rec and not recommend Spider-Man Is Dead (Long Live Spider-Man) by aetataureate, it's a series of character studies on ripeter, gwen, peter b, and miles during itsv and it's insane how few hits it has for being some of my favourite pieces of writing in anything ever. anyway that's all for now, have fun y'all

#posting fic recs to subliminally encourage other people to also post their fic recs #across the spiderverse #across the spiderverse spoilers #gwen stacy #miles morales #pavitr prabhakar #hobie brown #peter b parker

[in-hav3n]

 ✮ 𝓘𝐢𝐫𝐬𝐭 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 - 𝐋𝐞𝐭 𝐦𝐞 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐰 𝐲𝐨𝐮

❘❘ The reader is younger than James.

Fifth show, Sweden. On this beautiful sunny warm afternoon, you were doing the same gestures for the tenth time. You didn't mind. You loved to feel useful for people and you loved this new job you got. Being a roadie on Metallica tour was an unexpected turn in your professional career but still, it was the most interesting job you've ever done and you enjoyed every minute of it.

James, Kirk, Lars and Rob were rehearsing, testing the mics as well as their instruments, walking around the stage in their comfortable clothes whilst the Met crew was working to settle everything. You were sticking the sheets of schedules and setlist at every post at the right place for the staff and settled all kind of stuffs they'd need for tomorrow's gig.

Walking around in comfortable clothes too - no need to wear black outfit like for a gig ; plus the day was particularly hot, you decided to wear a black top and a jeans skirt - you were listening with one ear as doing your tasks, sometimes whispering some lyrics or moving your head on the rhythm. Not paying attention to what was happening around you, you were busy on fixing something under the stage when you heard James calling you.

"Are there some guitar picks down there (X/Y)?", he asked you, recognizing you at your hair color.

Normally roadie would never had any contacts with the band but you were introduced in the Met crew by Lars' drum's technician so you had some kind of special place. Plus you were doing your job, not complaining or trying to become friend with the band, like others did before. But that didn't stop the guys from being naturally kind with everyone and since you were "part of the family", they tried to get to know you a bit more than with any other roadie.

You looked up at him and your heart started to beat faster. You nodded at him and quickly went to give him one. Standing on your tiptoes, you leaned over the big stage to give it to him. James kneeled down, chuckling as he noticed you had to do that to be able to reach him. Your fingers connected for a moment and you let out a discreet gasp. He took the picks and smiled at you. "Thanks sweetheart". You managed to mumble a "you're welcome" and stood petrified for a while, looking at him going back to the stage center. He was rehearsing "Creeping death" riffs, focusing on his play as smoking his cigar. Even with just a brown short, a "Bastardane" shirt and a cow-boy hat, he was gorgeous.

Here were your big secret. You were craving for James Hetfield and it wasn't right. He was 59 and you were much younger. Plus he might had someone since he divorced last year but you didn't know, you weren't in the confidence and it was none of your business. But still, you couldn't stop dreaming of him, day and night. You knew nothing would ever happen and never you'll do something to seduce him or something. That would be very inappropriate. You just enjoyed the fact that you could sneak around him and took any opportunity you had to look at him or admired him from far away. That was already enough.

Later, you came back inside the backstages, your duty around the stage finished for the day. Since you had nothing else to do, an assistant asked you to put bottles of water inside the guys backstage's rooms, in case they'd need it for tomorrow. You accepted and quickly did this new task. The guys were still rehearsing at the moment so they would never know you had came inside their private areas. But the assistant knew and trust you enough to do it.

You started with Kirk's, Rob's and then you arrived in James'. You came in and a strong smell of cigar smoke and male perfume hit your nose. You chuckled. No surprise. You put the bottles in the mini fridge, not really paying attention to the mess all around, until you notice to sheets who were supposed to be stuck on the wall. It was the schedule and setlist again. The person who did it didn't do his job properly. You sighed and quickly went out to search what was necessary to put it on again. 2 mins later, you were back, on a chair to fix it in a good level so you were sure the sheets won't be unhooked and fall again. But impossible to take some tape. You were fighting with it, cursing until you heard footsteps coming and a door closing. You quickly turned around and your eyes landed on James.

"Oh I'm sorry...I was just..", you mumbled, showing him the duct tape. You felt completely ridiculous like this, in his backstage room, standing on a chair but you were just doing your job. James took a drag of his cigar with a nod and sympathetic smile.

"It's okay, keep doing your job. I'm just searching for something", he said with a nice tone as searching some things in his bag. You gulped and went back to your task, trying to focus but it was hard. He was just a meter away from you and you could feel the smell of his cigar from where you were standing. You finally managed to took some tape, put the duct on the chair and stood on your tiptoes to fix it. You didn't see the duct falling on the ground but James did. He looked over and put his cigar in the ashtray on the coffee table. He kneeled down to grab it and as he looked up to give it to you, he noticed he had an interesting view from here. He could see under your skirt and a cocky smile appeared on the corner of his lips. Interesting, he thought. Very interesting.

He got up and stood next to you, handing you the duct. You saw nothing until your peripheral vision noticed it and you slightly jumped of surprise and nearly lost your balance. You didn't hear him coming closer. James chuckled at your reaction and placed one hand on your hips, the other on your lower back to prevent you from falling. "It's just me sweetheart. Relax", he said with a smile. You thanked him, your cheeks soon flushing hard when you realized where his hand were. You managed to place the paper and turned over to face him.

"I-Is that good over there for you?", you asked him, showing him the paper placed on the wall.

"All good. Thank you. Now get down before hurting yourself", he said with a kind tone. You chuckled to him with a shy smile and accepted his hand to got down carefully from the chair. You didn't know if it was the weather but you felt a sudden heat radiating inside your body and you realized that it was James touches and kind gesture towards you that provoked it. It was completely insane.

Once on your feet, you stood face to face with him and you realized that he was closer than you expected him to be. You could smelled his masculine perfume mixed with smoke and it was enchanting. James looked over at you with his piercing blue icy eyes and it was really intimidating. You gulped and opened slightly your mouth to get some air cause it started to be difficult to breathe.

"Did you enjoy the show earlier ?". You assumed he was talking about the rehearsals so you replied honestly.

"Oh, yes, I did !". He nodded.

"Did you enjoy the music ?"

"Yes I did". Why was he asking you these questions ? You didn't understand but you kept answering.

"Did you enjoy watching...me?". You were about to reply positively again until you realized his question. You opened your mouth and immediately flushed harder. You got caught.

James relished of the effect he had on you and smiled. Of course he had noticed the way you were looking at him and it started to get his curiosity at the second show. Then he started to play with it, with his gestures, his attitude even with words, calling you "honey" or "sweetheart" to see your reaction and it pleased him a lot. But he never had the chance to be alone with you until today and he really wanted to enjoy every minute of it.

"I-I'm...I shouldn't..I'm sorry", you mumbled, your face all red and your glance fixed on the ground. You felt ridiculous, ashamed. You thought you were discreet when it was about watching him from afar and you were all wrong. Silly you. Now what will he think about you? You had been betrayed by your eyes and emotions...

James chuckled and raised up your head with his finger under your chin. Your eyes locking with his blue ones. "Don't be sorry sweetheart…" he said low, almost like a whisper as he came closer. Naturally, you stepped back, your back hitting soon the wall behind you. Breathing was becoming difficult and you were wondering if it was a dream or reality. "I like it actually", he confessed and put his left hand on the wall, next to your head, to lean on it. You were locked and trapped, like a prey. But god, you liked it. A sudden heat and strong pulsed inside your womanhood when you realized what he just confessed. This was insane. He liked it ? Does that mean that...? You couldn't believe it.

"I-I don't understand... Why me?", you found the courage to ask him.

He grinned with a cocky face before taking your hand in his. He was still delighting of the power he had over you.

"Let me show you", then he placed your hand on his crotch, where you could immediately felt his bulge. You gasped when you felt him becoming harder at your touch. Exactly like you dreamed it. Your eyes opened wild and looked at him. James leaned to speak lower near your ear.

"See? You feel it baby? This is what I feel when I see you looking at me…". The nickname and his revelation were enough to make your legs trembled. Thank god, you had a good support with the wall behind you. He nodded, like if he wanted to convince you even more of it.

"I know you want this too. I saw it in your eyes before and I see it now. I bet you're completely wet under this pretty little skirt". You bite your lips and rubbed your legs together, the desire you were feeling right now becoming painful. But still you've never been so aroused in your life and it was dangerously pleasant.

James noticed your moves and chuckled. He was so damn proud of himself. He took back your hand and kissed it.

"Meet me tonight. 5th floor." You nodded, not leaving his hypnotizing gaze. He smiled, gently stroked your cheek, took off his cowboy hat to place it on your head before leaving.

"Tonight sweet girl...", he said again with a wink before disappearing. And this is how James Hetfield left you in his backstage room, with a soaked wet panties and a heart beating fast. Rehearsals turned into an unexpected temptation...and you couldn't wait to taste it.

#james hetfield #papa het #james hetfield x reader #current james #first try #hope you'll like it! #can't believe I wrote this omg #but I needed to get this out of my head #now I'm going to work on other idea and requests I got #I can't waiit #idea 1