#the ladies are allowed to have six packs though. guys need to go drink some water and eat a burger

[studebakerhearse]

Defined six pack action hero idealism is tired we need more superheroes built like shotputters

#the ladies are allowed to have six packs though. guys need to go drink some water and eat a burger #actually all of you drink water and eat a burger you cannot kick asses depriving yourself cmaaaahn #rozzie rambles

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Duplicitous

Warnings: noncon/dubcon elements (rough sex, oral, cuckolding), deception.

This is dark!Loki and ft. some Steve and explicit. 18+ only.

Summary: Loki is new to the team but receives a cool welcome from those at the Avengers compound. Assigned to complete his orientation, you try to start anew with the former villain of New York.

Note: Still working on Omerta and From Eden. Tbh, the last week has been a tough one mentally but I’m working on that. I’ve also been all over the place helping my mother get settled after moving to town. Whatever, life is life. Thanks to all your wonderful people.

Leave some feedback, like and reblog if you can <3

It was a long morning. Much of it had been spent with Tony and as any other meeting with the man, it swung between amiability and antagonism. It was easy to guess why he was agitated as he was determined to thrust the crux of his displeasure upon you. Tony was never one to just roll over and he held a grudge well, but he wasn’t heartless and Thor was one of his best. 

It was only unfortunate that the Asgardian had deemed himself a package deal. If his home was to be Earth, it wouldn’t be his brother’s too. Loki was different now, he sought redemption, to right his wrongs. It was a hard sell but the god was relentless and as usual, he prevailed.

“I want you to make this hell,” Tony’s words echoed in your head as you flipped through the workplace standards binder. “You are going to go through this with a fine tooth comb until that jackass can’t take anymore.”

These things were never easy. Going over protocol, safety regulations, workplace behaviour and etiquette. Usually you did your best to condense it all to make it more palatable; as much for you as the new hires. Now Tony wanted you to torture this man via dry ordinances as he wasn’t allowed to do so physically. The boss wouldn’t sign off until he was sure Loki suffered, though you were just as certain Tony had no plans to sign off on anything.

You checked the clock, it was almost noon already. You’d set up the conference room for your first session. The binders and files stacked neatly on one end as you sat in the middle. 

You rose and looked through the transparent wall. Pepper’s heels raced by as she hurried to Tony’s office with her phone at her ear. The usual chaos of the tower.

You stepped out into the hall and made your way to the kitchen and popped a capsule in the machine before you found a mug. You added water to the machine and listened to the whir as it spat orange pekoe from its nozzle. You hated the little pods of leaves but you didn’t have time to wait on the kettle. You added a touch of milk and checked your watch before you stole one of the scones left in the box Pepper had strolled in with that morning.

You cradled the crummy scone in a paper towel and as you neared the conference room, you found a broad pair of shoulders awaiting you. You had still not grown used to Thor’s lack of hair. Loki’s dark head appeared just on the other side of him and your dread sank into your stomach.

“Hey,” You approached. “Just in time.”

“My lady!” Thor boomed as he turned to greet you. “How are you?”

“Well, and you?” You couldn’t help but smile. “How is the city treating you so far?”

“We have seen many things,” He announced. “Many delicious foods.”

Loki was silent, his eyes dull as he resisted rolling them at his brother. 

“And are you doing more exploring today?” You wondered.

“Eh, I gotta see Tony but I figured I’d see Loki in for his first day,” He lowered his voice. “I told him to behave.”

“I can hear you,” Loki grumbled.

“Yes, well you already know I told you to behave,” Thor said. “So… behave.”

“Yes, mother,” Loki replied snidely.

Thor huffed and shook his head.

“I fear I’ve set him into a mood already,” Thor said. “I apologize.”

Loki blinked in exasperation but said nothing.

“Well, I guess we should begin and you should see Tony sooner than later,” You offered. “He called for the jet so he might not be here much longer.”

“Thank you,” Thor clapped your shoulder. “I promise, he has changed.”

You nodded and gave a weak smile. Thor left you and you turned to Loki. He stared at you a moment then his eyes drifted to the transparent door.

“Allow me,” He pushed the door inward and stepped inside to let you past. 

You looked down at your full hands and thanked him as you entered. You set your mug and scone down but didn’t touch them. You had hoped to enjoy them before his arrival but for once, Thor was timely. Or perhaps that was Loki’s doing. He seemed the more stringent of the two.

“Loki,” You waved to the chair across from you. “Nice to meet you.”

“Again,” He neared slowly and grabbed the back of the chair. “Did you forget?”

“A brief meeting, yes,” You said. “But I’ve been told you weren’t yourself.”

He sat carefully and leaned an elbow on the arm of the chair.

“I remember it though,” He assured you.

“I tend to remember other events that day a little more clearly,” You countered. 

“Mmm,” His brow twitched. “Yes, you Midgardians do cling to the more extreme details of my last visit.”

You wanted to scoff. Your last meeting had very nearly killed you. As creatures flew upon strange machines outside the windows of Stark Tower and buildings were decimated, you had caught a piece of shrapnel as one of the invaders crashed through the windows. You still wore the scar across your side; still remembered the god behind Tony’s bar, lecturing you upon your inferiority.

“This is a new start,” You slid a binder over to him. “Though not an exciting one.”

His fingers tapped on the blue cover as you opened your own and took a sip of your tea. 

“What is this?” He opened his slowly.

“The rules,” You answered. “Combat regulations, mission protocol, office standards… the fun stuff.”

“And did my brother have to sit through this tripe?” He asked.

“Your brother didn’t try to invade New York,” You said sharply. “And Tony likes him.”

“Ah, Stark,” He smirked. “Of course.”

“Did you want a tea? Anything to drink?” You asked.

His eyes flicked up and he considered you. “Very kind, but I’d rather we just begin.”

“Right,” You looked down and took a breath. “Probably best.”

🐍

The clock at the end of the room read past six. You yawned and rubbed your eyes. All the little quizzes and evaluations Tony had tacked on were taking a lot longer than you expected. Loki looked just as uninterested though he read along all the same and had yet to falter. 

You sniffed and leaned back in your chair. 

“Ready to call it a day?” You asked.

“Up to you,” He said coolly. “To be honest, it has been slightly preferable to my brother’s grating presence. Slightly.”

“He’s not that bad,” You chuckled.

“He’s not your brother,” Loki countered. “Have you ever had the pleasure of eating with him? It’s disgusting.”

You held back another laugh and shook your head. Your eyes caught a figure on the other side of the clear wall. Steve squinted through and pointed at Loki with a tilt of his head. You blinked and shrugged. Loki noticed and glanced over his shoulder.

“Ah,” He slowly turned back. “The golden avenger has returned.”

“Well…” You tapped your fingers on the table. “I am, uh, late.”

“Late?” He raised his brows.

Steve went to the door and opened it carefully.

“Sorry to interrupt,” He poked his head in. But I’ve been, uh…” He looked at Loki warily. “Texting you.”

“We were just finishing up,” You assured him. 

“Hello, Captain,” Loki pivoted his chair.

“Steve,” The other man corrected. “Thanks.”

“Ah,” Loki’s mouth twitched and he looked between the two of you. He stood up and turned back to you. “I didn’t realise. I shall see myself out.”

“We’ll pick this up tomorrow. Same time,” You said. 

“I look forward to it,” He said dryly.

Loki took the black jacket he’d slung over the back of his chair halfway through your session and nodded at Steve as he slipped past him. He strode along the wall and offered a two finger wave before he disappeared. Steve watched him with hands on his hips.

“What--”

“You haven’t talked to Tony?”

“I didn’t think he was serious,” Steve turned to you. “He didn’t--”

“Oh, you guys need to calm down,” You rolled your eyes. “He was perfectly… tame.”

You pulled out your phone and saw several notifications from Steve, along with a few emails. One was marked with a red exclamation which deemed it urgent and you opened it up. You glossed through it quickly.

“Steve,” You looked up. “You didn’t?--”

“It was Bucky too,” He said evasively. “We were just doing our job.”

“You collapsed a bridge,” You frowned. “Why is it always you?”

“No casualties,” He pleaded.

“Only me,” You scowled. “I’ll be buried in the paperwork.”

He lowered his chin guiltily. He neared shyly as you packed up your bag.

“How can I ever make it up to you?” He touched your arm.

You narrowed your eyes at him as you collected your mug and half-eaten scone.

“Cheesecake?” He smiled. 

“You can’t buy me with dessert,” You brushed past him and he followed you out into the hall.

“Really?” He said. “I know you like a little whip cream on top.” You entered the kitchen and rinsed out the cup and placed it in the rack. “But… we could try it on something else.”

You faced him and fought not to smirk. You shook your head.

“So the cheesecake is… foreplay?”

“Part of it,” He got closer and his hand settled on your hip. 

“Hmm,” You hummed as his lips hovered over yours. “Strawberry cheesecake?”

“My favourite,” He purred and kissed you. 

🐍

The next day, you found Loki waiting in the conference room. You had spent your morning trying to clean up after the super soldiers. You pushed through the clear door and rounded the table as you greeted Loki.

“You’re early,” You said as you took your seat. The binders were as they had been the day before.

“All the better to get this over with,” He said as you sat and rolled your chair closer to the table.

“You know, I am starting to think it would be a lot easier if you and Tony just had it out,” You opened the binder. “Well, easier for me.”

Loki snickered and flipped through his own binder.

“You and the golden boy,” He ventured as you found the right page. “Adorable.”

You glanced up at him and furrowed your brow. You cleared your throat and looked back to the pages.

“So, we were going over required training.” You said.

“Is that allowed in your little Midgardian handbook?” He prodded.

“We will cover that,” You assured him. “Not that I think you need to worry about it.”

“Hmm, no,” He mused. “I wouldn’t.”

You sat back and sighed.

“It might be easier if you at least tried to make friends here,” You said. 

“Friends?” He lifted a brow. “Who should I start with? Stark? Oh, I’m sure he’d be open to a little reconciliation. Or maybe Rogers? Hmm? He really seems the forgiving type. Or that little redhead thing? She seems peaceable.”

“You could begin with me,” You offered. “I’m not here to provoke you.”

He blinked and shifted in his chair.

“Have I been unkind?” He wondered.

“Not exactly,” You answered. “But not everything needs to be a… snipe.”

He considered you and his hand spread over the binder.

“It wasn’t meant to be,” He said evenly. “I bear you no hostility, though perhaps I do owe you an apology.”

“Apology?” You echoed.

“Regardless of the circumstance, I said what I said that day, it was cruel and there is no excuse,” He said. “You were wounded and I would have watched you die. It might have been a different version of me, but it was me. I apologise.”

“You don’t have to--” You touched your side without thinking. “Thank you.”

“And I will do my best to withhold my contempt. You do not deserve it.”

You were a bit shocked by his candour. You pressed your lips together and straightened the binder in front of you.

“That’s a good start,” You said. “So, now that’s cleared up…”

“What page was it?” He nodded and looked to his binder. He leaned it against the edge of the table as his eyes roved over the tight font. 

🐍

The rest of the week went much the same. However, Tony’s plan to chip away at Loki seemed not to be working as your patience wore away and the Asgardian remained ever stoic. He was almost amused as he humoured your Midgardian codes. 

Your weekend was well earned but didn’t allow for much rest. Steve was due to leave again that week so you had to squeeze what time you could out of him. It could be a couple days, or a week, or two. He could never really say and you never expected him to. You knew how it was when you got into the relationship.

All the while, you tried to catch up on the work delayed by Tony’s pointless ploy to drive Loki out. You hated that he had chosen you for this though you doubted he’d trust any other to do so.

On Monday, Loki was late. You were surprised. He had always been annoyingly early. You texted Steve and he replied with a heart emoji. The door whisked open and had your phone face down on the table. Loki sat heavily across from you, a scrape across his forehead and a split in his lip. His cheek was slightly swollen beneath his eye but he seemed barely fazed by his injuries.

“Oh my god,” You said. “What happened to you?”

“Training,” He smiled and hissed as the gesture pulled at the cut. “My brother… got a bit carried away.”

“And how does he look?”

“To the detriment of my pride, better than I do,” He said. “I did try to restrain myself, though my tongue does not obey me as well as my body.”

“Let me get you some ice,” You stood.

“Really, I’m fine.” He insisted.

“You’re bleeding.” You said as blood began to trickle from the split in his lip.

“I thought I’d stemmed it,” He reached up. “Forgive my lateness.”

“That’s the last thing I’m worried about,” You scoffed. “One second.”

You went to the kitchen and grabbed an ice pack from the freezer and the first aid kit from beneath the counter. You returned to Loki and set your wares down. You flipped open the metal box and grabbed an alcohol wipe.

“Did you clean the cuts at least?” You asked.

“I can handle it,” He assured you.

“Sorry, sorry,” You flicked the packet. “I sound just like my mother right now.”

“I do appreciate it though.” 

He took the little paper packet and tore it open. He blindly wiped the cut along his hairline and that on his lip. You offered him some gauze and he thanked you before he pressed it to his lip. When the blood slowed, he grabbed the ice pack and held it to his cheek.

He stood and you quickly backed away as he tossed his mess in the bin. You packed up the kit as he sat again.

“Thank you,” He said again and you pushed aside the metal box.

“You know, it’s not too uncommon to have a bloody lip here,” You rounded the table and sat across from him. “You good though?”

“Very,” He said with a slight smirk. “I have been anticipating this section most fervently.” He opened the file before him. “Office etiquette. I suppose I am sorely lacking in that.”

You almost laughed at his quip. He wasn’t so cold as that first day and you no longer saw the villainous invader before you. You saw someone wildly out of place. For a moment, you felt bad for him. The glimmer in his eyes quickly smothered it and you wondered for a moment. This was Loki; he could more than handle himself.

🐍

Steve showed up only a couple hours later and waved at you through the glass. He had his bag. He was leaving. You tried not to stutter as you continued reading through the clauses before you and Loki seemed barely bothered by your momentary lapse. You swept a paper out of another folder.

“So, another pop quiz,” You said sourly. “While you fill that out, I’ll just excuse myself for a moment.”

“Very well,” He accepted and played with the pen. 

“Ten minutes.” You promised as you stood and slid the paper to him.

He nodded and looked dully at the sheet. You hurried around the table and out into the hall. Steve retreated and you followed so you could not be seen through the transparent wall.

“Going?” You asked glumly.

“I shouldn’t be long. It’s an easy in and out.” He rubbed your arm.

“Oh? And who’s going with you?” You asked.

“Um, Sam,” He said.

“Ha, sure, easy,” You kidded. 

“And what about him?” Steve nodded to the conference room. “How long’s this gonna take?”

“Well, with all Tony’s bookmarks, probably the rest of my life,” You grumbled.

“Gee,” He frowned. “I don’t envy you.”

“Rub it in,” You huffed. “I’ll miss you.”

“You too,” He leaned in to kiss you.

Your lips met and you grabbed onto his shoulder. You wanted to kiss him forever just to make him stay. But he had to go and you had to get back to work.

“While interoffice relationships are permitted so long as the proper legal protocol is followed, open displays of affection are prohibited as they are unprofessional and unseemly in the workplace and may lead to discomfort of others.” Loki’s voice cut through the air.

You pulled away from Steve and looked to him aghast. You heard Steve sigh and he hitched his duffle up on his arm. Loki held up the paper and grinned.

“Sorry to interrupt but I finished and… well, I think I’ve learned a lot,” He taunted.

“Apparently,” You turned back to Steve as he glared at Loki. “Sorry, I gotta go but… let me know when you can that you’re safe.”

“Of course,” He tore his eyes from Loki. “I love you.”

“You too,” You patted his chest. “See ya.”

“Yeah,” He shook his head and shot Loki one last sneer. “Bye.”

You watched Steve go and turned back to Loki. You hid your irritation and neared to take his paper.

“Thanks,” You said as you swept back into the conference room.

You sat and checked his work. Perfect, as ever. You were certain he didn’t care about any of this but he never wavered. You added it to the pile and looked up at him. He leaned back in his chair coolly.

“Did I pass, teacher?” He teased.

“Why did you do that?” You asked.

“Just practicing my learning,” He smirked.

You shook your head at him and flipped the page.

“Moving on,” You said.

“Must be difficult. Being apart so much.”

“We don’t have to talk about it,” You said. “It’s personal.”

“Apologies,” He said. “I was only attempting small talk.”

“It’s okay,” You said. “I just… to be quite honest, I’m cursing Tony as much as you probably are.”

🐍

Another week of tedium and you were ready to tap out. And you were further irritated that Loki showed no sign of distress. He was just as cool as ever as you went through the ridiculous mandates. Just as irksome as you glanced at your phone between sections. His curious, almost taunting eyes, lit up along with your screen.

But you kept on and on Friday, you let him leave a full twenty minutes early. You stayed another hour as you caught up on the rest of your workload. You barely made a dent but you just wanted to go home and hide in bed. Your empty bed. You hoped Steve would return soon.

You yawned as you drove to your building. Your fatigue mounted as you rode the elevator to your floor and neared the door of your condo. It was unlocked. You hesitated and pushed inside. You blinked as you looked around. The lamp in the living room was on but no other light shone and nothing seemed out of place.

You stepped further inside as you dug your hand into your purse and clutched the can hidden in its depths. Another light came from your bedroom door and you carefully crept down the hall in your heels to peek inside. You pulled out the can and screamed as a shadow appeared in the doorway.

You didn’t have a chance to spray the mace as it was batted out of your hand and the surprised chuckle eased your fears. Steve grabbed your arms as he steadied you. He was freshly showered and smelled of his sandalwood soap. He wore only the pair of old grey sweats with the hole in the knee. You shook your head at yourself and smiled.

“When did you get back?” You asked.

“About an hour ago. Didn’t think I’d beat you home but I had to try,” His hands slipped from your arms and he embraced you. “You miss me?”

“Did you miss me?” You countered.

“Of course,” He bent and kissed your lips, rocking you slightly. He pulled away and lifted a brow. “You look tired. Too tired?”

You giggled and hit his chest. He released you and slid your purse from your arm.

“Don’t worry, I can do all the work,” He offered. “You just get… comfortable.”

He backed away and set your bag on his dresser. You glanced at the chair where you usually put it and shrugged. You stepped out of your shoes and tucked them down beside the dresser. You stood and removed your blazer. Steve moved slowly to the bed and dropped down on his stomach as he watched you, his head cradled in his hand.

You felt like blushing. He hadn’t been like this in a while. The last few times he returned, he’d been tired; quiet. You gave him his space and he came to you after a while. You knew he needed the chance to decompress but sometimes it felt like he thought your time without him was easier. That your job was easier.

You unbuttoned your blouse and tossed it over the chair, shimmied out of your trousers and let them wrinkle on the seat. Your back ached from sitting all day in the chair and your muscles were tense from weeks sitting across from Loki. He was easier to deal with but that little glimmer of paranoia remained.

You unhooked your bra and swung it around before you let it fly across the room. You laughed as Steve hummed and you teasing pushed your fingers under the elastic of your panties. You paused and gave him a cheeky look. He groaned and perked up.

“You need help?” He asked.

“Well, not with these,” You shoved the panties down your thighs and they fell to your feet. “But I wouldn’t mind a nice massage. My back is killing me.”

“Hmm,” He sat up. His pants did little to hide his impatience. “I could do a massage.”

He patted the bed as he shuffled back to the edge. You went to the bed and climbed up. You eased yourself down onto the mattress, your face nestled between the pillows as you sighed. His hand brushed your leg and ran up to squeeze your ass. He urged your legs apart and moved between them.

“You’re tense,” He said as he pushed his hands over your ass and up your back. His fingers traced the scar along your side and lingered there. It was always so sensitive and made you shiver.

“It’s been a long week,” You turned your head to speak.

“Oh yeah?” He wondered. “He… giving you a hard time?”

“Not really but… I don’t wanna think about work.”

“Then don’t,” He ran his thumbs along your shoulder blades and drew a groan from you. 

You turned back to the pillows and stretched your arms up around your head. His hands kept moving, firm, attentive, magic. Your voice got louder and louder as he found the knots and the little aches perfectly. It was rare for him to be so thorough. Often he was thinking so much about what came next, he barely glossed across your flesh.

He gripped your hips and you felt his breath on your skin. He laid a trail of kisses along your back; lower, lower, lower. He dragged his lips over your ass and nibbled your thigh, then your other. He urged your pelvis up and you obliged. You bent your legs just a little to support yourself, your head buried in the pillows.

He got down on his elbows as he pushed his head between your legs and slid his tongue along your folds. He gently began to lap and your thighs began to tingle. The flick of his tongue grew more deliberate as he brought his hand up to tease your clit. He poked your entrance with his tongue and hummed.

Your fingers closed around the duvet and you lifted your head. You whined as you felt the pressure building. You breathed through your teeth and your entire body shook. You were surprised by your orgasm, how quickly it swelled and crashed. Your thighs quivered and you bit down on the corner of the pillow as you came.

He kept on and you whimpered. Your voice floated around you as your entire being buzzed. His purrs sent a shiver along your spine as his tongue kept on. Then you heard your name. A hollow tone. Confused, familiar.

The warmth of Steve’s mouth left your cunt and you turned. Frantic you stared at the man in the doorway of your bedroom. You looked between him and the identical figure kneeling on the end of the bed. What the fuck?

The Steve in the doorway stormed the other. They met at the end of the bed and you were almost crushed beneath them as you backed up against the headboard. Scared, you watched them tussle until they rolled onto the floor with a crash. The grunts were startlingly similar.

You crawled across the bed and looked down at the struggle. The panic brewed in your chest. You hopped off and grabbed the naked Steve’s shoulder.

“Get off! What’s going on?!” You pulled and found yourself flung back. 

You tried to grab him again and found yourself drawn back by an invisible force around your neck. You were dragged back to the bed, almost choking as the blankets wrinkled beneath you as you tried to latch onto them. You stopped at the headboard and felt along your throat, a searing pain in your palm as the unearthly bound tightened.

You kicked out and the sounds of struggle seemed to fade. You heard Steve groan and watched the naked one stand. He went to the chair and dumped your clothes from it. He carried it to the end of the bed and lifted the other onto the seat. Eerie green lights wrapped around his wrists and ankles, a thicker one snaked around his throat and his lashes fluttered as he tried to blink away his daze.

“What--” 

As the naked Steve turned to you, his blond hair darkened to black and his broad shoulders shrunk, a slightly slimmer and taller figure before you. You wriggled and tried to pull at the restraint at your throat once more. You hissed as your hands burned terribly and rescinded them.

“Why?” You kicked your legs and they were stilled by the same odd green glow. “Loki! Stop.”

“Stop? Why, dear…” He turned and slapped Steve’s cheek. Steve shook his head and his blue eyes seemed to focus. “...you were just starting to have fun.”

“Leave him alone,” You tried to get up but were drawn back even more. Your arms were forced out and your ankles tugged further apart. “Loki!”

“Oh, I love to hear my name on your lips,” He purred as he came closer. 

He drew a slow circle in the air and your body turned so your head was at the foot of the bed. He knelt and turned your head as he pressed his lips to yours. He devoured you as he pushed his tongue into your mouth.

“Loki!” Steve barked and you heard the chair creak slightly before he cried out. “Lo-ki!” His voice was strained. “Don’t touch--”

Steve’s shouts fizzled out as Loki drew away. You were flipped sharply onto your stomach and you squealed as your head spun. Loki climbed up swiftly and straddled your ass. He ran his hands over your back and squeezed your shoulders. 

He leaned over you and grabbed a handful of your hair. He lifted your head so your eyes met Steve’s. 

“You want to hate me, Rogers, but you haven’t any reason,” He taunted. “So let me give you one.”

“What do you think Thor will do when he finds out? Tony will--”

“You can tell my brother but he’s forgiven me worse and Tony, well, he could have an unfortunate accident in that lab of his,” Loki slithered. “Or maybe this darling little toy might break before I’m done with her. Pity.”

“You--”

“Would.” Loki insisted as he dropped your head and sat back. He hit the back of your head roughly. “This isn’t love, Rogers. It’s not even a crush. This is just… fun.” His fingers crept down your back as he slid back. “Oh, wouldn’t it be a scandal; the golden avenger murders his own lover. Even if it was an accident, well, that serum of yours… dangerous stuff.”

“No one would believe--” Steve choked before he could finish.

“You think I couldn’t make them? What reason do I have to frame you? And it would be easy enough to stage it all.” Loki preened as he poked between your legs. He rubbed your folds as he spoke. “What they believe hardly matters if she’s gone, eh, Rogers?”

You croaked as the force squeezed your neck and you flailed as you gulped for breath. 

“Stop! Stop!” Steve pleaded. The pressure relented and you coughed and gasped. “Loki, please… don’t hurt her.”

“Oh, I never intended to hurt her,” Loki shoved his fingers inside you and you whimpered. “In fact, quite the opposite. Weren’t you having fun, darling?” You closed your eyes and he pinched your thigh. “Darling?”

“Y-yes,” You murmured into the mattress. “Please--”

“Shhh, you don’t have to beg,” He keened. “But I do love to hear it.”

He pushed his legs between yours as he continued to finger you. You could hear Steve’s heavy, angry breaths. Your own were shallow and frantic. Loki spread his fingers and you felt another prod at your entrance. He held you open as he slipped in; two fingers still in you as his cock stretched your walls. 

He impaled you and pulled his fingers out. He sighed as he wiggled his pelvis and lifted your ass. He got even deep as his hands grasped your hips. You sniffled as you fought the heat behind your eyes.

“I’m sorry,” Steve uttered. You heard the chair wobble but still again as he let out an agonized growl.

“No,” You gulped. “I’m sorry. I didn’t--”

Loki pulled back and slammed into you. You squeaked and he did it again.

“You can have your little reunion when I’m done,” He thrust so hard the bed jolted with each tilt of his hips. “Oh, look at her. She’s shaking again.”

He sped up, a little at a time, until he was hammering into you. You ached from his relentless rhythm and tugged against the bonds. He bent over you and hooked his arms under your shoulders and pulled you up. He bounced you against him, your thighs draped over his as he worked your body.

You bit your lips and turned your head. You couldn’t look at Steve.

“He can’t look away,” Loki whispered in your ear. “I made sure of it.”

You whined as he continued to use you. His hand slid down to your clit as his other arm wrapped around your chest. He pounded into you from below as he began to rub. You felt the same sudden rise. The same irresistible tickle. You gritted your teeth and moaned.

You let out a pathetic sob as you came. Your entire body convulsed and you pushed your head back against Loki’s shoulder. His breath glossed over your cheek and he bent to press his lips to your flesh. He nuzzled further down and bit into your neck. He snarled as he thrust into you hard and deep.

He shuddered as his hips spasmed and he rocked through his orgasm. He came inside you, a sickly flood of warmth. Your arms were kept suspended to either side of you as you struggled to get away from him. You hung your head and squeezed your eyes shut.

He pulled out and let you fall forward. You caught your breath and slowly moved your hand to your throat. You raised yourself shakily and looked to Steve. His eyes were glassy, his lips parted, his face pale.

“Steve,” You reached out to him. 

As you made to climb off the bed, you flew back to the mattress, flat on your back. Loki strode around the bed as he snickered. He pushed his long hair away from his face.

“Now, now, you don’t think that’s it, darling.” He licked his lips as he came to the end of the bed and stood between you and Steve. “We have two weeks to make up for. Two. Grueling. Weeks.”

#loki #Steve Rogers #dark loki #dark!loki #loki x reader #steve rogers x reader #dark loki x reader #dark!loki x reader #fic #one shot #marvel #mcu #dark fic #dark!fic #oneshot

[all-you-need-is-paul-mccartney]

Across the Universe II (Paul McCartney x Female!Reader)

Find Part One Here

A/N: I just checked chapter 1 and I literally put it up over a year ago. Shit. I just wrote a part 2, and finally got ahold of a computer to post it. I hope you's enjoy it. my last chapter had like... 20 likes altogether, so hopefully this chapter will draw some readers in.

Summary: Paul makes it to the Princeton campus where he not only reunites with his cousin Vick, but he meets a fellow stoner named Max. From there, the boys indulge in some Ivy League Hospitality.

WARNINGS: Drinking, swearing, smoking psychoactive substances (Cannabis), just dumb college guys doing dumb college shit. also, it's probably got mistakes bc I suck at revising

This is just a statement clearing up that none of these characters are mine except for Vick. Everyone else belongs to those who were involved in and/or collaborated with Julie Taymor in making the Across The Universe film (2007)

I'll rate this one a T seeing as the substance use isn't THAT bad.

"Vick Hoffner?"

"Try across the way, man. I think there's a Vick of sorts there."

Paul simply nodded at the stranger before turning on his heel and making a beeline to the next apartment, his hands fiddling with his useless book of contacts.

What was the point of giving me your number if you won't even pick up the phone?

He sighed, and rubbed his eyes tiredly with the palm of his hand. He'd been hitchhiking for two days just to get to the Princeton Campus, and then a few hours going through the closest rented apartments to locate him.

This was apartment number 9.

And it was nearing one AM.

Paul rapped weakly at the door, silently concluding that this would be the last place to check before finding somewhere to sleep until the next morning.

The door swung open, and Paul was face-to-face with this college kid who seemed to be about his age. He had unkempt blonde hair that curled around his ears, patchy stubble, and big blue eyes hazed over with the red assault of cannabis in his system.

Despite this, and the nearly empty beer bottle in his hand, the guy looked like he was keeping it together pretty well.

Paul cleared his throat, and raised an eyebrow. "... Vick Hoffner?"

"Nah, man. He's out at the moment gettin' drinks," the guy paused, and looked at Paul for a moment.

"Hey, hold on, you're not... Vick's cousin, are you?"

"Would it be an issue?" Paul asked sarcastically, to which the other guy responded after a laugh, "Nah. I just can't wait for him to get back and find out you got the better looks."

Paul just rolled his eyes, a smile on his lips. "Probably don't matter. He's the brains n' so is me brother. 'S what really matters; though I take pride in this thing." Paul pointed teasingly at his face.

The other guy smiled, pulling two cigarettes from behind his ear. He offered one to Paul, and he claimed the other. He lit the both of their cigs, and they each took a long drag after Paul scanned the apartment hallway for any angry tenants who happened to be against smoking indoors.

"So... does Vick's "pretty boy" cousin have a name?"

Paul nodded like the fact that he had a name was astounding information, but he smiled genuinely before bringing the cigarette back to his lips. "It's Paul."

"Max," The blond shoved his hand out, and the boys shook hands firmly. Max eyed Paul again."Where's that accent from, Paul?"

"Same place as me," Paul answered as he shoved his free hand in his pocket, blowing out smoke a moment after. "Liverpool."

"But why come to America?" Max gestured Paul into the apartment as he spoke, closing the door behind them. "Kill someone? Were you on the run from the cops? FBI?"

"'Sounds like you'd be one to know 'bout all of that." The boys took a seat on the couch in the centre of the room as their cigarettes slowly burned away as they chatted.

"Hey, hey, I've barely ever been in trouble with the cops, but I have pissed off every professor in Princeton, and have broken several campus windows."

" 'nd... you're proud of it?"

"I'm an adrenaline junkie, what can I say? Smashed nearly forty five windows and despite being Princeton's number one vandalidm suspect, I'm still not expelled. Y'know why?" Paul leaned in a little, enough to catch the dank scent of weed, and Max lowered his voice. "... because they can never prove it's me."

" 'nd why is that?"

The answer to Paul's question burst right through the apartment door.

"There's three more of us, and it could be any of them!" One of which, Paul could surprisingly recognize.

"Vick. Long time no see," Paul rose to his feet, and Vick, who'd set a six-pack of beer on the coffee table between them, greeted his cousin with a friendly hug and some "how are you"s.

Despite being an intelligent young man, Paul noticed that Vick behaved a little less like how he used to: polite, conservative, and proper. It was suspected that his behaviour changed because his newfound freedom at Uni allowed him to experience and access things that he would have been otherwise restricted from when he was younger.

Booze was one of them.

Dope was another.

In fact, he wordlessly cracked open a beer for Paul, and handed it to him like he'd asked for a drink in the first place.

Paul wasn't a huge drinker. It was never a vice of his, or anything like that either. He got shitfaced every once in a while for fun.

But when he brought that aluminum can up to his lips, Paul would never have guessed that it would have led to the night it did.

Five minutes after Vick and his buddies returned, Max brought out the roach Paul suspected he was sucking on before he got there.

With enthusiastic cheers from around the room, Max lit the sucker up, took a nice drag from the hot remainders of the joint, and passed it on to Paul.

Paul looked at the roach, almost as if he was confused. No one had asked him if he'd ever smoked before, but Max and the others yelled hurriedly over top of one another, instructing for Paul to suck in quickly and hold the smoke in for as long as he could.

It resulted in a coughing fit, and encouraging pats on the back from the other guys. Vick ended up taking the roach next, and Max reached out across the table.

"Have another one of these, my friend," he slid over another beer after cracking it open just moments before, despite the fact that Paul wasn't quite finished his first drink.

"Y'know, the more you cough, the higher you get? Pretty fucking sick. Like a win-win, man. You don't cough: You're high. You cough: You're super high."

As time went on, and Paul nursed his second drink more responsibly than the first one, things, ironically, started making less and less sense to him.

At one point, he was talking to the guy sitting across from him, and he just stopped talking for a whole ten seconds before turning to Max and asking "what the fuck was I just talking about?"

"Who fucking knows." The blond's shoulders shook as he tried suppressing his laughs, but eventually Paul just burst out into laughs and uncontrollable tears.

And everyone followed suit.

He had absolutely no idea how he got there, or how long he'd been there for, but sitting before Paul were now two empty Tankards. A waitress just set down another to him, and collected the table's empty glasses.

They were in a bar.

Max sat beside Paul as he watched Vick spectate the other two guys play pool.

For the life of him, Paul couldn't remember those guys' names, despite knowing he was told multiple times in the last few hours. To be fair, being drunk and stoned is a perfectly reasonable explanation as to how one forgets another's name. He supposed it didn't exactly matter, anyways.

"So, you got any hot sisters abroad I should know about?" Paul gave Max a funny look  but it may have been because it took so long for Paul's brain to register what had been asked.

"... No. Do you?"

"I've got two younger sisters; one's eight, and the older one's a little on the uglier side," though he didn't say it, Max's little smile indicated to Paul that he was joking about the last comment.

Paul and Max watched the boys play pool a little longer until the eight ball was pocketed.

"Wanna play?" Paul's head snapped to his left, and he nodded at Max's offer.

The other guys traded off, and Vick continued spectating. Max made the first break, and Paul watched as the cue ball rolled right into one of the pockets. Well, it seemed to have been only him to notice, because Max's eyes were instead trained on a brunette woman passing the two.

She looked over her shoulder to wink at Max, and rather than gouging his reaction, she simply walked off and took a seat alone in the corner of the bar.

"Do you believe in love at first sight, McCartney?"

"Well, I'm sure that it 'appens all the time. Never 'appened to me, personally."

"You just need to find the right one, my friend.." Max trailed off again, eyes still locked on the bird in the corner. He was slowly inching from the table and toward her. Max eventually just set the cue on the table and completely abandoned their game to talk to this girl, who flashed him a flirty smile with her bright white teeth and painted lips.

Paul watched Max amusedly, taking a swig from his beer and memorizing the moves Max was putting on his lady friend, who was clearly enjoying his company.

Maybe Paul wanted to get better at approaching certain women. He knew how to flirt, and be charming. It's not like he'd never had girlfriends. He'd had his fair share of girls in his teenage years, and he had Molly now back in Liverpool.

But Paul, at this moment, in his crossfaded brain, realized that he didn't want to attract the women he had been anymore. Just from her visual appearance, and how she was reacting to Max's charming flirts, Paul could sense an airiness to her personality. She was always smiling, inching closer, initiating physical contact by nudging his hand with her own, the list goes on.

Hell, even on her happiest days, Molly would be reluctant to kiss Paul, but he'd excuse her behaviour because she was just a regularly bitchy person who hated public displays of affection.

Or hardly any affection at all, it seemed.

Needless to say, Max returned to the table five minutes later with a phone number and a big red lipstick stain on his cheek. So to celebrate, the gang decided to go golfing.

"Here she is, Window Way," Max introduced Paul to the roof of their apartment building. The other boys started giggling at the name "Window Way". Each guy had their own club, Max held a bag of golf balls, and Vick carried another six pack.

Max set his things down and took in the crisp night air as Vick opened yet another beer for each of the boys. Max took a can for him, and one for Paul, and proceeded to show his new buddy just why he called it "Window Way".

"A Driver will send a ball..." Max pointed his arm straight out in front of him, his finger pointing right towards the windows of the Princeton Campus library.

"...Straight towards the school," Paul finished. He turned to look at Max. "You guys do this every night?"

"Paul, I do this all day. I barely go to class anymore."

"Hey, Max! You tee first!" One of the nameless guys called out to them. Max brandished the widest of grins before rushing to grab his club, a ball, and a green tee from his pocket. "Hey, Paulie, wanna help me out by holding my tee up?"

"Well, how'd I do that without gettin' hit?"

The other boys started laughing again, and Paul was genuinely confused until he found himself lying on his back seconds later, and the bottom of the tee between his lips, which only got heavier when Max set the ball down onto it.

If he were sober in this moment, Paul would not have been this comfortable with someone swinging a golf club full force towards his head and then trust their judgement regardless of their in intoxicity that they'd hit their target...

It was a good thing Max had been doing this for a long time, because wow, did that ball ever fly.

Paul watched in stoned disbelief as the ball soared far off into the distance and over the roof of the library. And while no one had seen it, they certainly heard the shatter from the other side of the building.

And that's when all five boys ran away from administration retired back to their room to light up a new joint Vick had also brought home as a surprise. They all sat around and lazily talked to one another about how crazy Max's shot was, and while some of them were falling in and out of sleep, Max insisted they all stay up to watch the sky change colour from the courtyard.

Paul didn't know how he stayed up any longer than he did, but he pulled through like a trooper, and they all watched the sky change as they lay down in the fallen leaves. But as soon as they all came back to their room for a final time, Paul dragged himself in exhaustion to the living room chair to sit, but he just slipped out of it onto the floor, and that's when his body decided to turn off on its own.

The other guys dropped to the ground or onto the furniture like dead flies, and within ten seconds of the door closing, the room was quiet.

And it stayed like that for nearly ten hours.

Paul woke up that evening with a raging headache and multiple trips to the bathroom to be sick, but now three things were certain for him: He definitely had one hell of a time, he definitely wanted to hang out with Max a lot more, and that evening Paul definitely got by with a little help from his new friends.

------------------------------------------------------

A/A/N: alrighty, if this chapter doesn't do too too bad, I'll see about continuing this story. I've got chapter 3 pretty much done as well, I'm just in the midst of revising it. If you want more, by all means, PLEASE let me know!

#across the universe #paul mccartney #the beatles #paul mccartney x reader #macca #george harrison #john lennon #ringo starr

[coldflasher]

Title: don’t threaten me with a good time Chapters: 1/1 Length: 7.7k Fandom: The Flash (TV 2014) Rating: Gen Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Minor/Background Relationships: Cisco Ramon/Kamilla Hwang, Barry Allen/Iris West Characters: Barry Allen, Cisco Ramon, Kamilla Hwang, Caitlin Snow, Killer Frost, Iris West, Leonard Snart, Original Male Characters Additional Tags: Alcohol, Drunken Shenanigans, Bisexual Barry Allen, The Flash 7x12 Good-bye Vibrations.

Kamilla leaned forwards to read the front page. “The Barry Allen Drunkenness Scale.” Bemused, she looked up. “What’s this? “This,” said Cisco, “is the result of a great deal of research and a number of hard-earned lessons.” He pulled up a chair and sat beside her, pulling the folder towards them. “There are eight stages of Drunk Barry, each one with a varying level of severity. It begins with stage one.”

Inspired by the Santiago Drunkenness Scale from Brooklyn-99. Team Flash are throwing a party to celebrate Kamilla and Cisco’s departure from Central City, and Kamilla wants to make sure they go out with a bang. But with great power comes great responsibility, and sometimes responsibility means making sure your friend doesn’t break the sound barrier by doing the worm at Mach 2.

Read on AO3

@dctvgen​ (i hope this is okay!! didn’t really use any prompts but i had this one saved up and seemed like a good time to post it, lmk it’s not suitable!!)

Life came at you fast. After seven years being besties with a speedster, working to save the world, Cisco knew that to be true in more ways than one. But apparently despite everything he’d seen, it still had the capacity to surprise on him.

One minute the thought of leaving Central City had been a vague, abstract thought – a ‘what-if’ or a ‘maybe’ he dwelled upon whenever yet another crisis announced itself with a shower of broken glass raining into his Vibeuccino, or when he’d compared the news in Central City, which was all doom and gloom and murderous metas, to somewhere nice and peaceful like Keystone, where the biggest news story of the day was some kid winning the national Spelling Bee Championship. Then the job offer came in, and Kamilla had tested the waters with wanting to leave – and now their stuff was all packed and in boxes, he had a start date at ARGUS, and what had been a daydream was now a very clear reality. He’d hung up the gloves, said a final goodbye to Vibe.

It was the other goodbyes that were going to be the hard part.

“It just feels weird, you know?” he said, pausing in the middle of hanging bunting from the corner of the cortex. “We’re saying goodbye to everyone we know. This has been my life for almost eight years now. Team Flash are my family. It feels weird to celebrate leaving all that behind.”

“Don’t think of it as a celebration of what we’re leaving behind,” said Kamilla, who was sat at the desk, partway through ordering pizza. “Think of it as a celebration of everything we’ve accomplished. Making friends and building inventions and saving the world! I know it’s difficult and change can be scary, but it doesn’t have to be. We’ve done amazing things, and I think it’s important to honour that.”

Cisco sighed as he successfully stuck the flags to the wall. He climbed down from the table he was stood on and joined her at the desk in his usual chair, pushing himself back and forth with his foot. “You’re right,” he said. “You’re always right. I’m not getting cold feet, I promise. I’m excited. We’re going to make this work. We’ve done amazing things, and we’re going to do even more. Together.”

Kamilla beamed. “That’s the spirit.” She held out her hand for a fist-bump.

Grinning, Cisco returned it. “You’re such a dork.”

“Which is exactly why you love me,” Kamilla countered, with a few final clicks and a flourish as she placed the pizza order. She consulted the list on her phone. “Okay, so we’ve got the cake, the decorations, the drinks, and the pizza is in transit. There’s just one more thing we need.”

She slid past him and made her way towards the small metallic fridge tucked away in the corner. Kamilla typed in the passcode 05-20-80 – the release date of The Empire Strikes Back – and the fridge unlocked with a clunk, revealing two test tube holders – one containing a single emergency vial of Velocity IX, and another that held eight tubes of liquid a few shades lighter than blood.

Cisco glanced over, bemused. “Babe, did you stash your Kraft beers in my security fridge? Because that seems a little excessive.”

Kamilla eased the second rack of tubes off the shelf like a tray of freshly baked cookies out of the oven. “No, I’m just getting a couple of vials of 500 proof for Barry. I didn’t want him to feel left out of the festivities.”

Cisco had met a lot of speedsters in his time, but in that moment he was pretty sure he moved faster than any of them as he sprinted across the room to intercept. Startled, Kamilla jerked back and the test tubes clinked together like champagne glasses mid-toast.

“Sorry, can we just back up a little bit – you’re what now?” said Cisco.

“I’m grabbing some drinks for Barry,” Kamilla repeated slowly. “This is his special speedster booze, right?”

“Uh, yeah,” Cisco said nervously. “It is, but…”

“But…?” Kamilla prompted.

“Listen,” he said, hands up in a pacifying gesture. “It’s not that I don’t trust you, but that is a highly controlled substance and it’s really in everyone’s best interests if you put it back.”

Kamilla grew wide-eyed. “Why? Is it dangerous?”

“I mean, if any normal person drank it, it’d pretty much liquidize their insides, but that’s not the problem.”

As he spoke, Cisco headed over to the shelf on the wall, ran his fingers along the various binders tucked onto the shelf, and pulled one off. Cisco carried it over to the table, pushed aside the keyboard and laid the folder flat in front of her.

“The problem,” he said, flipping it open, “is this.”

Kamilla leaned forwards to read the front page. “The Barry Allen Drunkenness Scale.” Bemused, she looked up. “What’s this?”

“This,” said Cisco, “is the result of a great deal of research and a number of hard-earned lessons.” He picked up the metal test tube rack and returned it to the fridge, his fingers flying across the buttons to input the code before he slid the vials back into place. “It’s also the reason why this stuff doesn’t leave the lab except in dire emergencies, including but not limited to break-ups, deaths and severe metahuman disasters.” Decisively, he closed the fridge and it locked again with a clunk and a beep.

“I don’t understand.”

“That’s because you are fortunate enough to have never before encountered an inebriated Barry Allen,” said Cisco. “Let me walk you through it.” He pulled up a chair and sat beside her, pulling the folder towards them. “There are nine stages of Drunk Barry, each one with a varying level of severity. It starts with stage one.”

 1 DRINK BARRY: A LITTLE CLINGY

One of Barry’s many wonderful qualities is his propensity for affection. Unimpeded by the bounds of modern-day toxic masculinity, 1 Drink Barry generously bestows physical affection on everyone he encounters. To put it plainly: he’s a hugger.

Standing outside Barry and Iris’ front door, Cisco checked his watch.

Usually at this time of night, he’d be hanging out in the cortex watching the red dot darting around on the monitor as Barry did a lap of the city, or in his lab tinkering with some new invention. Tonight, though, was different. They’d all agreed work was off-limits – time to take a hard-earned break. Cisco had been looking forward to it all week, but he guessed the rest of Team Flash didn’t share his enthusiasm, because they were late. That wasn’t like Caitlin at all. Shrugging, he lifted his hand to knock.

The click of heels made him turn just in time to see Caitlin bouncing up the stairs in her heels. “Hi, I’m here! Sorry I’m late; Frost and I couldn’t agree on an outfit.” She leaned in. “Did you bring the, uh…”

Cisco slid a silver flask out of his pocket slightly. “Sure did.”

“Then I guess we’re ready to go!”

“Damn right. …Ladies first?”

Caitlin knocked. They waited, listening to the rattle of six locks being unfastened one at a time, until the door opened to reveal Iris standing on the threshold wearing a tight red dress and a leather jacket.

Cisco whistled. “Damn. You look good.”

“You’re not so bad yourself,” said Iris as she stepped back from the door to allow them entry. “Barry will be down in a second, he got held up at work, so he’s a little behind –”

There was a whoosh and a crackle of lightning, and Barry skidded to a stop beside her with windswept hair and a grin. “Here! Hey, guys.”

“Oh. Famous last words.” Iris reached for her purse and swung it onto her shoulder. “Well I’m also running late, so I’d better get going. You guys have fun! And try to stay out of trouble, okay?”

“I’m afraid we can’t make any promises, cos everybody knows there ain’t no party like a Team Flash party!” said Cisco. “You sure you don’t wanna come with us? It’s gonna be one hell of a night.”

“Thank you, but I’m going out with a couple of the girls from CCPN tonight, so… rain check?”

“I’ll hold you to it,” Cisco warned.

“You’d better.” She rested her hand on Barry’s arm. “I’ll see you later, okay? I love you.”

“I love you too,” said Barry, and he leaned in for a kiss.

“Boo! Get a room!” Cisco hollered.

Iris rolled her eyes fondly. “Goodbye, Cisco,” she said, and headed out.

Cisco sighed. “And then there were three.” He looked from Barry to Caitlin and back again, stretching out on the sofa. “Okay, drinks!” He headed into the kitchen and returned with a bottle of wine in one hand and three glasses in the other.

“Uh, isn’t the drinking supposed to start after you leave the house?” asked Caitlin.

“Only if you’re an amateur! You always have a drink or two before going out on the town. It’s financially savvy.”

“Thanks, but I’ll pass,” said Barry when Cisco offered him a glass. “No use wasting perfectly good alcohol when it doesn’t even touch the sides.”

“That,” said Cisco, “is why you’ll be drinking this.” He pulled out a silver flask from inside the breast pocket of his blazer. “I call it 500 Proof 2,” he said, and held it dramatically aloft like Frodo holding the one ring.

Caitlin wrinkled her nose. “Really?” she said.

“The name’s a work in progress,” he admitted. “But the drink itself…” He kissed the flask. “She’s ready to go.”

Barry eyed the flask warily. “I don’t know…”

“Oh, come on, you’ve earned it. The city can manage without the Flash for one night. Go on, live a little.” When Barry continued to look skeptical, Cisco started to chant. “Barry, Barry, Barry–”

Grinning, Caitlin joined in. Barry endured it for all of thirty seconds before he rolled his eyes and snatched the flask. Caitlin and Cisco both cheered.

“That’s what I’m talking about!” said Cisco.

He splashed wine into his and Caitlin’s glasses, and passed one to her. She took it with a twinkle in her eye.

“All right, Team Flash!” Cisco whooped, and they clinked their glasses against Barry’s flask before they all drank.

Barry pulled a face. “Jesus! That’s – that’s potent.” He coughed, eyes watering.

“You’re welcome,” said Cisco. “We made a couple of tweaks to the formula. It should stay in your system longer instead of just burning off in thirty seconds flat like the first batch.”

“It tastes like rocket fuel!”

“Don’t worry about it. It’ll put some hairs on your chest,” Cisco said dismissively.

“You can say that again,” muttered Barry, massaging his chest.

“Speaking of hairs on your chest,” said Caitlin, curling up comfortably in her seat. “Did they grow back yet?”

“Not entirely,” admitted Barry. “It’s sort of a peach fuzz.”

“That’ll teach you not to get so close to my experiments,” said Cisco.

“Maybe it’ll teach you to label them better,” said Caitlin.

“Really? Don’t do me like that!”

“Sorry, it’s true.”

This triggered a bout of good-natured bickering as they debated the results of some of Cisco’s more disastrous experiments. Before long they were all laughing, loosened up by the drinks. Barry, who was perched on the arm of Caitlin’s chair, leaned against her.

“I love you guys, you know that?”

“We love you too, Barr – ooof! Oh. Okay,” said Caitlin, bewildered. Barry had slid off the arm of the chair and squeezed up next to her, taking up half the chair like a Great Dane still trying to sit in its owner’s lap.

“Look at him, he’s getting tipsy already,” Cisco teased.

“Shhh.” Barry rested his head contentedly on Caitlin’s shoulder. Amused, she patted his knee.

Cisco downed the rest of his drink. “All right, let’s get this show on the road.”

He offered Caitlin his hand – only to have Barry grab it instead. Then he grabbed Caitlin’s hand too.

“Oh, we’re holding hands?” said Cisco. “Is that a thing we do now?”

“It is when we’re running,” Barry said, grinning.

Caitlin’s eyes widened. “Oh. No, no, no runni–”

The rest of her sentence was lost to the wind.

 2 DRINK BARRY: KINDA CLUMSY

When Barry became a speedster, he gained a massive boost in motor functions, including enhanced reflexes that have massively improved his coordination. Prior to this transformation, his ability to walk unhindered across a flat surface was roughly equal to that of Bella Swan from Twilight. Two-Drink Barry is harmless, but he must be kept at a safe distance from breakable objects.

 Okay, so travelling at super speed sucked – Cisco would stick to breaches from now on, than you very much – but he had to admit it had its advantages. They’d beaten the evening rush by minutes and found themselves a table, where they had been comfortably situated for the past half hour. Since then the bar had filled rapidly, and now they were surrounded by people. Glasses clinked, bodies gyrated. All around them was laughter and the throb of music; he could feel the buzz of the bass against his elbows where they rested on the table.

“This is nice, isn’t it?” asked Caitlin. “No monsters, no metahumans… just the three of us having a few quiet drinks.”

“Don’t jinx it,” Cisco said darkly. “Also, I don’t know that the ‘drinks’ part is entirely accurate. The fastest man alive is about to lose his title. Where the hell is he?” Barry had offered to get the next round, but that was ten minutes ago and they hadn’t seen him since. Frowning, Cisco and scanned the room.

Just as he had started to get concerned, the crowd parted and Barry appeared with three glasses in his hands.

“It’s about time! What took you?”

“I’m so sorry,” said Barry. “I got held up at the bar, there was a huge li–”

Whatever he’d been about to say next was cut off as he abruptly tripped over his own feet.

All three drinks spilled everywhere. Lightning flickered as he lurched forwards to try and intercept, and he managed to right the glasses, but not before the majority of their contents had ended up all over the table.

Cisco’s plastic cup floated across the tabletop in a puddle of dismally fizzing coke, which dripped steadily into his lap. Caitlin looked down at her soaked sweater, hands held up in shock. Her eyes flared white.

“This,” snarled Frost, “is a cashmere sweater.”

Barry’s eyes were wide. “Oh my God, guys, I am so sorry.”

With a jerk of her head, Caitlin regained control. “It’s fine,” she said, then winced, presumably in response to whatever Frost snarled in the back of her head. “Really. It happens to the best of us.” She pulled the sopping wet fabric away from her with a grimace. “Um… does anyone have a tissue?”

“Let me get some paper towels!” said Barry.

Cisco reached out to stop him. “Actually, Barr, maybe you should –”

But it was too late: Barry had already turned around and crashed into a guy going in the opposite direction, who slopped beer all over himself. Cisco winced sympathetically.

“I’m sorry!” Barry said, while the guy glared and shook his wet hands.

“Maybe you should take a seat,” said Cisco.

Still apologising profusely, Barry sank onto his stool and shrank in on himself, nursing what was left of his drink while Caitlin went to get something to clear up the mess.

“So I guess those adjustments we made to the 500 proof are working, huh?” Cisco said with a smirk.

“Oh, they’re working,” said Barry. “Speaking of which, can I get a top-up?”

“Are you sure that’s a good idea?” Caitlin asked, returning with a wad of paper towels. She started to mop up the table.

“What? Oh, yeah, I’m fine. I’m not even buzzed, seriously. Tipsy at best. Come on, hit me.” He waved at his drink.

Cisco and Caitlin exchanged looks. There was a slight flush to Barry’s cheeks, and his eyes were a little brighter than usual, but other than that he seemed stable.

“I have wanted to study how the speedforce interacts with alcohol,” Caitlin admitted. “Metabolic processes aside, I am interested to measure the effects.”

“What the hell,” Cisco said. He unscrewed the cap of the flask and tipped it in to Barry’s glass, pouring a generous measure. “Knock yourself out.”

Barry beamed and picked up his drink. “Cheers,” he said, and they all clinked their half empty glasses.

 Three Drink Barry: Barry Dance-Pants

This Barry is able to flawlessly replicate the choreography for every single Britney Spears music video unprompted. So far we have been unable to determine where he acquired this information.

They all agreed that it was best if Cisco got the next round. He didn’t retrieve the next lot of drinks any faster than Barry had – if anything, he was slower; people kept shoving in front of him every time he got close to the bar – but at least the glasses stayed upright this time. When he returned to the table, though, Caitlin was alone.

“Where’d Barry go?”

Caitlin frowned. “I thought he was with you.”

“Nope.” He passed her drink over to her.

Caitlin worried at her lower lip.

“Hey, don’t stress,” said Cisco. “Barry’s a big boy, he can take care of himself.”

“I don’t know. He’s been gone a while, and he wasn’t exactly steady on his feet. He might hurt himself.”

“Good thing we have a doctor on call,” said Cisco, sipping his drink.

“That’s not funny. Seriously, I’m worried about him. I’m not sure he should be left unsupervised.”

She had a point. Speed and immense clumsiness wasn’t a great combination – they’d learned that the hard way. Cisco downed the rest of his drink with a grimace. “All right, let’s go look for him.”

They got up and headed out onto the dancefloor. The music was so loud that the entire room vibrated, Britney Spears’ Womanizer throbbing through the room. Caitlin pulled back and made a face as she almost inhaled a mouthful of some stranger’s coarse blonde hair. She batted it away like cobwebs.

“Ugh. Remind me why we decided to come out on the busiest night of the week?”

“Seemed like a good idea at the time,” muttered Cisco, craning his neck. “Man, I can’t see him anywhere. It’s like playing Where’s Wally? Hey – hey, excuse me! Can I just squeeze – guys?” He attempted to slide past a knot of people, only to give up with a frustrated sigh. “Jesus, it’s like talking to a brick wall. What the hell are they looking at?”

Caitlin stood on her toes. “It looks like...” She stopped. “Oh, no.”

“What?”

She grabbed his arm and steered him through the crowd, using him as a battering ram to force her way through. Eventually, breathless and sweaty, they made it to the outskirts of the dancefloor, where Cisco finally got a good look at exactly what had captivated everyone’s attention.  

Barry was in the middle of the dancefloor, tearing it up. He strutted up and down, squatted and slut-dropped before he arched his back and pumped his hips forward in several lewd thrusts. The crowd cheered.

“Oh my God,” said Caitlin.

“He is killing it!” Cisco cupped his hands around his mouth and yelled, “Yes, Barry!”

Barry winked and blew a kiss, rolling over to air-hump the ground with an alarming level of enthusiasm.

“Should we maybe go over there?” asked Caitlin.

“In a second,” said Cisco. He held his phone up, pressed record and zoomed in on Barry’s gyrating body, careful to keep his face in shot. “I wanna get this for posterity’s sake.”

“Cisco!” Caitlin scolded, and reached out to cover the camera.

Cisco jerked the phone out of reach. “You are aware that his ringtone for you is still thirty seconds of you butchering Summer Lovin’?”

Caitlin pursed her lips. “On second thoughts,” she said. “I hope you’re getting this in HD.”

Cisco grinned and went back to recording.

*

“Okay, that’s a little embarrassing,” Kamilla conceded.

“That? That was iconic,” corrected Cisco. “The man has moves. I swear he was a professional dancer in another life. I still have that video; I’ll show you later if you ask me nicely…”

“I’ll hold you to it. But none of this explains why this stuff has to be so rigorously controlled. I mean, being clumsy, affectionate, kinda sloppy, tearing it up on the dancefloor… that sounds like pretty standard drunk behaviour.”

“The first three drinks aren’t the problem,” Cisco said darkly. “It’s what comes after that you have to worry about. See, drunk Barry is insatiable. One drink is never enough. Once he’s had a taste of that sweet, sweet 500 proof concentrated speedster juice, he won’t rest until he’s had more. And while he may be an icon, three-drink Barry soon gives way to…”

 FOUR-DRINK BARRY: LOUD BARRY.

Barry Allen is a hero in every sense of the word. Time and time again he has sacrificed everything for the noble goal of making the world a better place. Barry doesn't save lives for the glory or the recognition; he does it because it's the right thing to do. But four-drink Barry… he thinks a little recognition might be nice.

 The final chords of Womanizer faded out into a sea of applause. Beaming from ear to ear, Barry took a series of bows, flapping his hand as if to say, ‘oh, stop it!’ After a few more moments of thoroughly enjoying the spotlight, he disengaged from his loving admirers and headed back towards Cisco and Caitlin and slid breathlessly back into the booth. His sweaty hair stuck to his forehead.

“Where did that come from?” Cisco asked, impressed.

Barry shrugged. “I’m full of surprises.”

“Clearly. I think you just earned yourself another drink!”

Cisco handed him the flask, and Barry clinked it cheerfully against Cisco’s beer bottle before he tipped it back and swallowed with a grimace. His eyes watered.

“Damn. That never goes down any easier.”

“Well it is just concentrated alcohol,” Caitlin reminded him. “Speaking of which…” She pulled her testing kit out of her purse. “Four drinks should be more than enough to start showing some side-effects. Let me take a quick blood sample.” Before Barry could object, she stabbed a lancet into his finger.

“Ow!” Barry put his finger in his mouth and sucked on it.

“Everything okay there?”

They all turned. A blond man in a grey t-shirt stood a short distance away, looking at them in concern.

“What? Oh, yeah, I’m good. Just hurt my finger.” He held it up ruefully.

Blondie moved closer. “Well it’s your lucky night: I’m a nurse. Why don’t you let me take a look?”

Cisco plastered on a smile. “That’s real nice of you, but our friend here is actually a doctor, so –”

Barry held out his hand, overriding Cisco’s objections. Blondie took it and examined it, tracing his palm with the tip of his finger. Cisco rolled his eyes hard and took another swallow of his drink.

“I was just watching you out on the dancefloor,” Blondie said. “Those were some impressive moves.”

“Oh, it was nothing,” Barry said modestly.

“No, it was definitely something. If I busted out a routine like that I’d be laid up for a week. What’s your secret?”

“Funny you should say that, cos…” Barry leaned in and said impishly, “I’m actually the Flash.”

Cisco choked on his drink. It went straight up his nose; his sinuses were on fire. He coughed hard, eyes watering.

“Are you okay, man?” the stranger asked concernedly.

“Great,” Cisco managed.

Satisfied, Blondie’s attention returned to Barry. “Well, I think your finger’s okay.” His thumb pressed against the inside of Barry’s wrist and his forehead creased slightly. “Your pulse is pretty fast, though.”

“Is it?” Barry said, resting his chin on his hand. “I hadn’t noticed.”

Caitlin rolled her eyes.

Blondie released him, but he showed no signs of leaving. He looked Barry appraisingly up and down. “So you’re the Flash, huh?”

“Yep,” Barry said. His eyes twinkled. “Fastest man alive.”

“Mm. Maybe we’ll have to test that.”

At this point, Cisco decided, enough was enough. He slapped Barry on the back hard enough to make him stagger and complain, “Ow!”

“Ha!” he said. “This guy. He’s a kidder, right? A real riot. Hey, uh, Barry, can I talk to you for a second?”

Before Barry could object, Cisco had grabbed him by the back of the shirt and pulled him out of the main bar area into the corridor, where there was a line of people waiting for the bathroom. Out here it was cooler and while he could still feel the throb of the music through the sticky soles of his sneakers, at least he could hear himself think.

“Dude,” he said. “Seriously? What the hell?”

“Oh, come on. It’s just a little harmless flirting. Iris and I, we have an agreement–”

“I’m not talking about the flirting! You can’t just –” Cisco stopped and made himself take a very deep breath before he lowered his voice. “You can’t just tell people you’re the freaking Flash!”

Barry gave a slow, confused blink. “But I am the Flash.”

He didn’t say it quietly. Several heads turned their way.

Cisco gave an uncomfortable laugh and rolled his eyes, before darting them at Barry like, ‘this guy, am I right?’ After a moment, the bystanders lost interest and went back to their conversation, and Cisco lowered his voice. “I know that, Barry, but it’s a secret, remember?”

“A secret?” Barry’s eyes widened and he clapped his hands over his mouth. “Oh! Right, I forgot. I’m sorry.”

“You know what? It’s all good. Just a little misunderstanding. But uh, let’s keep that one under wraps from now on, okay? Lips…” He mimed zipping up his mouth.

Barry nodded dutifully. “Got it.”

“Okay.” Cisco exhaled heavily. Jesus. Babysitting a drunken speedster was hard work.

Barry patted him on the shoulder. “M’gonna go to the bathroom. I’ll be back in…” He held up two fingers. “Two seconds.”

“You’d better be. And remember –” He made the zipping motion again.

Barry imitated it, pretending to lock his mouth up and tossed away the imaginary key. Then he went to join the queue.

Feeling like he’d just aged a decade, Cisco made his way back to their booth. Mercifully, Blondie had gone to chat up some twink at the bar. Cisco sank back onto his stool and buried his head in his hands.

Caitlin, who was squeezing a few droplets of Barry’s blood onto a testing strip, made a sympathetic sound. “Not having a good time, huh?”

“I’d be having a great time if Black Canary over there could quit singing about his secret identity for five freaking minutes.” Cisco snatched the silver flask off the table and screwed the cap back on with a sharp twist. “We’re cutting him off right now, before we get into any more trouble.”

“Oh, come on, cut him a little slack. He doesn’t exactly get to let loose very often.”

“There’s letting loose and then there’s whatever the hell this is.” Cisco shook his head. “It’s like –”

A high-pitched shriek cut him off, and Cisco grimaced as it rang throughout the room. Everyone turned to the source of the commotion – and Cisco’s heart sank. Barry stood on the stage, fumbling with the microphone stand.

“Is this thing on?”

“Oh God,” said Caitlin.

Cisco launched himself at the stage, fighting through the crowd. As he did, Barry continued to ramble into the mic.

“Hi. My name’s Barry, Barry Allen, and I just wanted to say something real quick. Because I love this city. It’s like… my favourite city. And I love all of you. Especially you.” He pointed unsteadily at someone in the crowd and gave a clumsy wink. “Anyway, I’m gonna tell you a secret while I’m here. You guys can keep a secret, right? Shhh!” He put his fingers on his lips. “See, I’m not supposed to tell you this, but…” He leaned in so close that his lips brushed against the mic. “I’m the Fla –”

Just in time, Cisco jerked the mic away from him. “Flaaa–ha! Okay, that’s quite enough of that. I think my buddy here needs some air.  Come on, Barry, let’s go.”

Luckily, Barry didn’t resist. He whooshed cheerfully as Cisco shunted him back to their booth and into his seat, then lolled sideways against Caitlin, who – with reflexes well-honed from constantly grabbing flying paperwork – managed to save her testing kit from being swept off the table.

Barry giggled. “I’m fast,” he said.

“Okay,” Cisco said resignedly. He turned to Caitlin. “Got any better ideas?”

She shrugged. “Pray that six-drink Barry is a little more tight-lipped?”

It sounded like a terrible idea. But when had that ever stopped them? With a shake of his head, Cisco withdrew the flask from his pocket.

“Hold on.” Caitlin’s voice had dropped an octave, and silver began to creep down from the roots of her hair. “I wanna see this,” said Frost. “It’s gonna be a total shitshow.”

Unfortunately, Cisco suspected she was right. He splashed more alcohol into Barry’s glass. “Here you go, big guy. Drink up.”

Barry looked down at his drink and frowned. “Can I get ice in this?”

Frost passed her hand over the glass and a chunk of ice dropped to the bottom with a clink.

“Awesome,” Barry said, and downed it.

“Oh God,” said Cisco. “We are so gonna regret this.”

 *

“Okay,” said Kamilla, looking up from the binder. “I think I’m kinda starting to see the problem. But we won’t have that issue tonight. Everyone at this party knows Barry’s the Flash.”

“Listen,” said Cisco. “Four-drink Flash is a cake-walk. The worst is yet to come.” He flipped the page. “Let me introduce you to five-drink Flash.”

*

 5 DRINK BARRY: THERAPIST BARRY

Five-drink Barry got a little too invested in Iris’ Intro to Psychology textbook in college. He’s all heart, zero clinical training.

Leonard Snart lay back on his bunk in Iron Heights, one leg resting lazily over the other, flipping through a nudie magazine. At least, that was how it appeared from outside the cell. Tucked between the pages was a blueprint of the prison, which his sister had smuggled in during her last visit. The bed creaked as he shifted his weight.

One of the guards struck the bars with his baton. Len glanced up.

“Snart. Get your ass out here. We’ve got a phone call for you.”

“Who from?” Lisa didn’t usually call so soon after a visit, and Mick never called at all; the signal on the Waverider was terrible.

“What do you think I am, your PA? Just get your ass out here.”

Interest well and truly piqued, Len tossed his magazine aside, careful to make sure the blueprint stayed safely tucked between his pages as he crossed the cell and waited for the door to be unlocked. Given his status as a high security prisoner, the guard cuffed him before leading him to the payphone booth in the reception area, the walls marked with grease stains and graffiti. With some difficulty, Len picked up the phone.

“Hello, this is Leonard Snart speaking. How may I be of service?”

The quality of the call wasn’t great. He could hear the throb of music, people talking and shrieking and laughing in the background.

Then a familiar voice said, “Snart? Is that you?”

Len’s forehead creased. “Barry?”

“Shmart. Snart.” Barry cleared his throat. “Hi. Are you okay?”

“…Peachy.” Len flicked a glance over his shoulder. The two prison guards stood watching him with folded arms and distinctly unimpressed expressions. “Can I ask if this is a business or a personal call? Because this isn’t exactly a secure line.”

“I just –” A loud, deep burp echoed down the line. “Wanted to check in n’ make sure you’re doin’ okay.”

“What?”

“Because I wanted you to know,” Barry said, his voice thick and indistinct, “that it’s okay not to be okay, you know? You shouldn’t bottle up your emotions. You gotta let ‘em out, you know? After everything you’ve been through with Lewis, I just wanted you to know that if you ever needed to talk…” He choked up, before recovering. “I’ll be here.”

“Barry, are you drunk?” Len said incredulously.

“See, there you go again, changing the subject. Have you ever noticed that you often use de… def… deflection as a way to avoid talking about difficult subjects?”

“I’m hanging up now,” said Len.

“No, no, no, no, wait! Wait!” Barry said urgently. “You need to talk about what bothers you. Don’t just bottle it up. Your emotions are a beautiful thing. Emotions are what make us–”

“Barry?” came another muffled voice on the other end of the line. “Who are you talking to?”

“No one,” Barry said immediately.

“Barry, give me the phone.”

“No.”

“Just give me the god damn –”

The sound of static and scuffles crackled down the line, and Len grimaced, lifting his head as far away from the speaker as he could to keep from being deafened. Over the commotion and the continued music blasting in the background, he could hear Barry shouting.

“You can be anything you want to be! Your past does not define you!”

“Okay,” said Len, and went to put the phone down.

“Wait!” said Barry. “Before you go, do you have a number for King Shark? Because I wanted to check in and make sure he’s doing okay. I know he looks scary, but underneath that slimy exterior he has the heart of a –”

Len rolled his eyes and hung up.

*

Sober Barry was a seasoned fighter, with speed, agility and hard-won experience on his side. Fortunately for Cisco, however, Drunk Barry’s combat skills comprised of slapping and some half-hearted attempts to bite, which meant that he was able to wrestle the phone away from him fairly easily. As he hung up, he glanced at the caller ID and blanched.

“Seriously? You’re making phone calls to Iron Heights? Are you gonna tell all the bad guys your secret identity too?” He held Barry’s phone up. “You know what? I’m keeping this; you clearly can’t be trusted.”

“My phone!” Barry said, and made a pathetic grab for it.

“Nope. Not happening, pal.” Cisco tucked it into his back pocket.

Barry pouted.

“Hey, don’t give me that look. I’m going to give it back later, I promise. I just need you to sober up first.”

“Okay,” Barry said sorrowfully. His bottom lip started to tremble.

“Oh, no,” Cisco said. “Not the lip – oh God, Barr, you’re breaking my heart here.”

“What’s happening?” asked Frost, returning to the table with two more beers, frost creeping down the side of the bottles. She gave a disinterested look at Barry, who was staring at the table with tears brimming in his eyes. He sniffed hard.

“Uh-oh,” said Cisco. “Six-drink Barry must be…”

 SIX-DRINK BARRY: SAD BARRY

Shortly after his fifth drink, Barry loses his well-honed ability to repress and crumbles under the weight of well over a decade of trauma. In times of crisis, he can be medicated with chicken wings or, in a pinch, large servings of Ben and Jerry’s ice cream.

 Cisco turned to Frost for help, but she inched away, rapidly shaking her head. Great, thought Cisco. Super helpful. He rubbed Barry’s back tentatively.

“Hey, Barry. You doing okay there, bud?”

Barry looked up. “I just got off the phone with Snart. He’s having a really hard time, you know? I mean, some people just can’t catch a break. He had a crappy abusive drunk for a father; he practically raised his sister. In and out of juvie, never graduated high school – and in spite of all of that, he comes up with these brilliant heists – like seriously impressive – and then the Flash comes in and totally ruins every single one of them. I mean, come on. The guy’s gotta make a living somehow, am I right?”

“Uh,” said Cisco.

“I always said to him, you can do better.” He poked Cisco clumsily in the chest to emphasize each word. “You have what it takes to be a hero. So the guy joins the Legends, becomes a hero, and then he freaking dies in an explosion. Kaboom! And then he comes back, returns to Central City to start over, robs one lousy bank and gets thrown straight back in prison. How is that fair?”

“Jail time seems like a fairly reasonable consequence for grand larceny,” said Frost.

“It’s just a bad habit,” Barry said forlornly. “He deserves help and compassion, not a prison cell. Do you know what it’s like in Iron Heights? The food is terrible. My Dad spend a decade in there and he always said…”

He trailed off. For a moment Cisco thought he’d gone into a trance, as he stared down at the table, forehead slightly creased. Then he saw the haunted look in Barry’s eyes. The face of a man who had seen terrible things.

They needed a distraction. Luckily, Cisco had just the thing. “You know what?” he said. “Maybe the food in prison isn’t great, but you know what’s awesome? The food you can get delivered right here. Nice, starchy, alcohol-absorbing food. Let’s look at a take-out menu and see what we’ve got.” He pulled up JustEat on his phone. “We could get you a pizza… maybe some fries… a couple of burgers; that sounds–”

“Chicken wings,” Barry said distantly.

They both turned to look at him.

“Chicken wings?” said Frost sceptically.

“Chicken wings,” Barry insisted.

“Okay!” said Cisco. “We’ll get chicken wings.” He added one portion to the basket. Then took another look at Barry’s face and hit the plus button several times. “Lots… and lots… of chicken wings.” He locked the phone. “Okay, food should be with us in a couple of minutes. So what now?”

“More drinks!” Barry said.

“No! No more –”

It was too late; there was a crackle of lightning and then the flask slammed back down onto the tabletop.

Cisco closed his eyes in defeat.

 8 Drink Barry is a Michelin-star chef

Sober Barry’s cooking is average at best, but 8 drink Barry reveals a deep inner passion for the culinary arts.

It was a little past two am when a breach opened at the top of the stairwell, pulsing and flickering with pale blue light. Frost and Cisco staggered out of it, each holding one of Barry’s arms to keep him from escaping.

“Okay, almost there,” said Cisco. “You’re doing a great job. Can you let us in?”

Barry patted himself clumsily down until he found his keys and tried to open the first lock. He kept missing the keyhole. After his third attempt, Barry sighed and collapsed forwards, head resting against the wood panelling. Then he started vibrating.

Cisco suddenly realised what he was trying to do. “No, no wait, don’t–”

There was a buzzing sensation, a sickening lurch, and then all three of them fell straight through the front door.

Frost gave a full-body shudder and released her hold on Barry’s shirt to rub her arms.

“Never do that again! It makes my skin crawl.”

“I feel like we should have a rule about phasing under the influence,” Cisco muttered.

Together, they managed to get Barry onto the couch, where he lay blinking up at them, floppy as a rag doll, barbecue sauce smeared down his chin. More of the wings had ended up on his face than in his mouth, but Cisco hoped the restorative properties would kick in soon.

“Hey, Sad Flash. How’re you holding up?”

“I’m hungry,” Barry said. He clawed his way to a standing position. “Gonna make food.” Yellow light blazed as he sprinted into the kitchen.

Frost turned to Cisco. “He’s still hungry? He had like, eight servings of chicken wings!”

“Just go with it,” Cisco muttered, and then the alarming sounds of crashes and bangs came from the kitchen. “Barry? Do you need some help in there?”

Lightning crackled erratically as Barry sped around the room. Within seconds, every available surface was strewn with culinary equipment: a chopping board; a stained knife; various ingredients. A knife flashed as he rapidly diced an onion and swept it into the pan too fast for the eye to follow, and then the burner came on with a click and a whoosh. Oil sizzled as Barry dropped a steak into the pan. He grabbed a wine bottle off the side, yanked the cork out with his teeth and spat it across the room; it missed Frost by inches, and she recoiled in disgust. Barry sniffed the wine, and after a moment of consideration, he sloshed a generous amount into the pan. Flames leapt skyward, and Barry expertly tamped them down.

“Uh… what are you doing?” said Cisco.

Barry flipped the steak with a flick of his wrist. “Cooking.”

“Yeah, I can see that, but I thought you were going to make pasta, or fries, you know – normal drunk people food, not –” Cisco inhaled. “What even is that?”

“Braised steak in a red wine sauce, with asparagus on the side,” Barry said.

“…Right,” said Cisco. “Sorry I asked.”

*

“That doesn’t sound so bad,” said Kamilla.

“It isn’t,” said Cisco. “It’s goddamn awesome. The problem with 8-Drink Barry is that hot on his heels is –”

*

9 DRINK BARRY – SLEEPY BARRY.

On the night the particle accelerator exploded, Barry went into a coma and remained unconscious for nine months. During that time, his score on the Glasgow Coma Scale was a 5. Rumour has it that nine-drink Barry scored even lower than that.

 “This is the worst night out I’ve ever been on in my life, and I share a body with Caitlin. Her idea of fun is wearing hideous pyjamas and watching documentaries on Hulu,” Frost hissed.

They stood on the doorstep laden with plastic bags while Cisco searched through the assortment of keys Barry had given him, trying to find the one for the first lock. “Look,” he said, inserting one into the lock with a crunch, “I know it hasn’t exactly been smooth sailing, but hopefully he’ll have got the rest of it out of his system while we were out breaching to every grocery store in the city.”

“Right, because Gordon Ramsay in there had to have…” Frost slid the bottle of wine out of the grocery bag. “Whatever the hell this is. Chateau Belair Mona–whatever. As if a hundred-and-fifty-dollar bottle is going to taste any different than the fifteen-dollar fifty bottle from the liquor store.” She rolled her eyes. “What the hell is he even going to do with it?”

“To be honest, as long as he doesn’t drink it I could care less what he does with it. Just keep him distracted for long enough to get some more food inside of him and make sure any breakable objects are out of reach before he gets down to the two-drink level.” He shook the keys in frustration. “Jesus, how many keys do they have?”

“I still don’t see why we had to–” Frost paused and narrowed her eyes. She sniffed sharply. “Is something burning?”

They looked down. Thick grey smoke billowed out from underneath the kitchen door.

Seconds later, the door burst off its hinges in a cloud of icy fog.

Inside the loft was total chaos. Barry slumped at the kitchen table, dead to the world, his hand still loosely clasped around the flask of speedster booze. A small puddle of drool on the table shone in the firelight. Behind him, his frying pan lay abandoned on the range, smoking violently while flames leapt towards the ceiling.

The piercing shriek of the smoke alarm tore through the room. Frost blasted the frying pan with a thick stream of ice and cold energy crackled from her palms, barely making a difference in the temperature of the room. Cisco grabbed a damp tea towel off the side and beat at the flames, trying frantically to extinguish the blaze. Behind them, Barry didn’t so much as twitch, his snores drowned out by the alarm.

*

“Okay, I think I get the gist,” said Kamilla, looking up from the folder. “No-booze Barry is the way to go.” She hesitated. “But just out of morbid curiosity, what about nine-drink Barry?”

“Unchartered territory,” Cisco said darkly. “We figured eight drinks was enough.”  He closed the folder conclusively. “So yeah, it sucks that Barry can’t drink with us, but with great power comes great responsibility. And sometimes responsibility means making sure your friend doesn’t accidentally break the sound barrier by doing the worm at Mach 2.”

Cisco went to slide the folder back onto the shelf. As he did so, his gaze caught a framed photo on the countertop. He paused and picked it up, smiling sadly. It was a picture of himself, Caitlin, Barry and Thawne – or Wells, as they’d believed back then – from the early days. They all looked so young, grinning at the camera, hair tousled where Barry had sped out from behind the phone before the shutter clicked. His chest ached.

Kamilla put a hand on his arm. “You’re going to miss them, aren’t you?”

“Always.” He put the photo down. “But we gotta keep moving forward. Speaking of which, it is beyond uncool to be late to your own party, so we’d better get shaking.” He held out his arm. “Ready?”

“You go,” said Kamilla. “I just have a few last-minute things to take care of. I’ll catch up.”

“Okay.” Cisco kissed her on the cheek and slipped out of the room.

Kamilla glanced over her shoulder, bit her lower lip. Then her gaze slid over to the fridge.

Tiptoeing across the room, she approached the container and input the code again. Her hair tossed as she glanced over her shoulder to make sure that no one was watching. Then she slid out a single blood red vial and tucked it into her purse.

Just in case.

#DCTVGenPrideMonth #the flash fanfiction #my fics

[afriendlyblackhottie]

Ransom Drysdale Must Die (Chapter One)

Summary: Ransom Drysdale is a serial cheater. The only way to get him to pay for what he’s done is for him to die. Or at least be extremely humiliated. As long as you don’t fall for him.

Pairings: Eventual Ransom Drysdale x black!reader, Ransom Drysdale x Multiple OC’s

Warnings: Swearing. Eventual smut.

(Author’s Note: I was watching John Tucker must die and it made me think of my favorite sweater wearing murder daddy.)

Tags: @night-of-the-living-shred​

Word Count: 2.0k

It's not that you were invisible. You preferred to think of it as keeping a low profile. Growing up, you didn't really have a choice but to keep things to yourself. What was the point of trusting people if all you were going to do was leave? You couldn't make friends or keep them if you'd be moving in another four to six months anyway. Not that it was your choice.

It started at a really young age. Technically before you were even born. Your mom had been a teen parent. Your dad didn't stick around which was all you knew about him. It didn't take long for you to get used to the myriad of men walking in and out of your life. Then you got used to seeing your mom, your only constant, getting treated like garbage over and over and over.

She never had an issue with dating. It was them sticking around that was apparently tricky. The problem is that when it would happen the same thing always happened. She'd binge on chocolate. Use you as a shoulder to cry on. Then you'd be moving to flee into the next city. It was kind of fucked up.

While she cried over the hundredth guy your nose was either buried in a book or painting which had been your only escape. You never wanted to judge your mom. She didn't deserve to always have her heartbroken. But, you also didn't deserve having a mom that wanted to pack up at the first sign of trouble. She didn't seem to get that.

As an adult, you promised yourself that you would find one place and stick to it. It might have hurt your mom a little to watch you go, but she understood that you had to go away for college and stuff. Which is how you ended up in Boston. You kind of remember living in Boston once back in the day. You liked the winters surprisingly and the way the trees looked in the fall. You remembered being happy which is why it sucked so much to leave.

You’d gotten your degree, but finding a job had been difficult. Which is how you ended up working at this country club. Though you could live without all the snobby rich people being total assholes, at least they tipped well. You mostly waitress in the clubhouse where it was usually the older crowd and the families that sucked up to them for the inheritance.

It was also how you first noticed him. Hugh Ransom Drysdale. From the moment you laid eyes on him you could tell he was dangerous. Just like those men, your mother would fall for that would inevitably break her heart. That same air of arrogance hanging over him like a cloud, except much better looking with a trust fund to go along with it.

He insisted everyone in the clubhouse call him Hugh. Which according to everyone is what he insists the help call him. God, he's a fucking asshole.

You remember the first time you talked to him. He was so enchanting. It was annoying. He was like Gaston come to life. Just as handsome, just as charming, just as scummy. Sure he made those white polos he wore to play golf look like he'd just stepped off a shoot for GQ. His gaze was enough to make any woman swoon. Even you as much as you hated to admit it.

It'd been one of the few times you'd worked at the bar. Someone had called out and being the new girl you were told to take their spot. "Sweetheart, be useful and get me a bourbon," he'd said in this rude tone.

"Not even a please?" You muttered under your breath as you turned your back to get a glass.

"What was that?" He asked, with a quirk in his eyebrow.

You kissed your teeth before turning back to him,  "Excuse me?" You plastered a sweet smile on your face.

"You got something to say? Say it." He challenged.

You shook your head. "I didn't... I didn't say anything."

He chuckled. "Okay, lo-"

Your jaw dropped as you put your hand on your chest. "Oh my god, Sir, if you're already drunk I can't serve you. You'd be a liability."

"That's a big word. Did they teach you that in community college?" The glare in his eye was intense and you couldn't help it as a smile spread across your face.

"Actually I think I learned it from where you get your trust fund."

You were surprised when he laughed. But, not that little sarcastic chuckle. Like an actual laugh. "Usually I'd call the manager over and enjoy them firing you in front of me, but lucky for you I'm in a good mood and kind of enjoying this. Now get me my bourbon."

"One bourbon coming up." You shrugged.

You talked with him for the rest of your shift surprisingly. The conversation going from hostile to surprisingly pleasant. He’d told you about some issue he’d been having with his grandfather that he hadn’t told the rest of his family he laughed at the idea of them finding out. Said he couldn’t wait to see the look on their faces when they found out everything was going to the nurse.

It was the trashy rich people drama that you craved.

“I know there’s gonna be a lot of bullshit when they find out they aren’t getting that house,” he’d scoffed, looking up at you from his drink.

“I’d be pissed too,” you replied. “I’m sure that house looks like a museum. I’d love to see it.”

“It’s insane.” He nodded. “Imagine like a horror museum with one of those escape rooms.”

You laughed. “So like plastic spiders? Cobwebs? Ghosts!” What a turn around this had been from the initial conversation the two of you were having.

“Not at all,” he said laughing. “It’s more like everything he’s ever thought for his novels, he just adds to his home. Like he needs the visualization. He has a secret window and a chair with knives. It’s insane.”

“That actually sounds pretty cool. Your grandpa sounds like a pretty cool guy, you must admire him a lot.”

“I mean... yeah, but I’d never tell him that.”

“Why not?” You asked with a chuckle.

“It’s complicated,” he answered, before bringing his glass up to his lips. “Like, I love him, but....”

“No. I get it.” Of course, you did. Your mom was a complicated figure in your life, but you could never not love her.

“I’ve done a lot of shit.” He shrugged. “So, I think it’s mutual.”

“At least his house sounds interesting. Like a work of art. I’m kind of a sucker for art.”

“Do you paint? Draw? Doodle on an iPad.” The way he smiled up at you, you would have never guessed that he was the giant asshole everyone made him out to be. There was this softness there even if it was hiding under his arrogant exterior.

You chuckled. “I paint. Though I do partake in the doodling on iPads.”

“I’d love to see your work sometime,” he said. “Do you sell?”

“I haven’t,” you replied. “But, I’m open to it. I guess. I’d show you now, but I’m not allowed to have my phone on the floor.”

“Oh so I’m not worth risking being fired for, I get it,” he joked, shaking his head as if he was offended.

You laughed, tilting your head back. “I know right. I’m already risking it by even talking to you. Harrington is so strict.”

There was this squint on his face as he kind of looked you up and down. It felt like he was studying you and it made you feel like you were under a microscope. “You’ve got a cute laugh you know that?”

No. Don’t give in. You had to tell yourself. You didn’t want to get involved with anyone you’d have to workaround. Besides, it was Ransom Drysdale. You’d just seen him with a woman yesterday. “Thank you,” you brushed him off. “Can I get you another drink?”

He sighed, checking the time on his phone. “As much as I’d love to stay and chat. I have to get going. Maybe I’ll stop by soon so we can talk again. Maybe show me some of your work?”

“Sure.”

He’d left you a forty dollar tip. You were not expecting that.

You’d left work that night feeling pretty good. Not that you were expecting him to fall in love with you or anything. Or for anything to happen at all. It was just a nice encounter with the guy everyone was obsessed with here. Besides you promised yourself you’d never, ever fall into the same trap as Mom had.

It’s not that you didn’t date. You were picky, though. The few relationships you’d had were okay, but you didn’t want to get hurt so you never wanted to get in too deeply.

Then the next day you had come to work, he’d walked in with Marissa on his arm. That stopped any and all thoughts you may have had. It was during that lull between when they'd stopped serving breakfast and brought out the lunch menus. You weren’t surprised that a man like Hugh Ransom Drysdale would be dating a woman like Marissa Clermont. She was exactly the type of woman men like him go for. You know a model IT girl type of deal.

It wasn’t just because he’d been dating Marissa. Of course not. It was because the day before you he’d just come in with Amber Taylor. The daughter of a retired Boston Celtics player. Also, a beautiful woman (also a model you think) who clearly didn’t know her boyfriend was two-timing her.

“Fascinating isn’t it?” Your co-worker, Britt, interrupted your thoughts as she’d come back from taking their drink order. Her arms were crossed as she tried to not make it too obvious that was she looking over at them. “He comes in here with different women and none of them have any idea.”

You frowned as you saw him whispering in her ear, making her giggle, probably telling her the same thing he told Amber just yesterday. “Yeah, I see that,” you replied. “How does he get away with it?”

“Ladies! Back to work!” Harrington, your manager, barked towards the both of you which made the both of you scurry off before she even had the chance to answer. You didn’t even get to talk to her because her shift was over soon then you were off the next day. You weren’t even sure why you cared so much.

When you got back to work it was during that lull time. Ransom was there of course with a different woman. Chloe Daniels. A blonde that had been the sole heir to her husband’s entire fortune no matter how much his ex wife or adult children tried to fight it. You were happy you got to witness the drama for that.

“He messes around with girls that don’t talk to each other,” Britt was finally able to explain. “So, they never find out. At least, that’s what the story around here is.”

“Wow he has a whole system worked out...” you crinkle your nose. Ugh what a fucking pig.  Just like your mother and those douchebags she dated.

“I mean, I kind of get it,” Britt said. “He’s hot. I might put up with being treated like trash for that much. Hell, I’ve put up being treated like trash for much less.”

You held in the laugh you wanted to let out as you could see Harrington lurking around, waiting to say something to the two of you. He never missed his chance to give out orders.

For as long as the couple sat through you couldn’t stop staring. Britt was right. It was fascinating.

#ransom drysdale #ransom thrombey x you #ransom x y/n #ransom drysdale x reader #ransom drysdale x black!reader #ransom drysdale x poc!reader #chris evans #chris evans x reader #chris evans x poc!reader #chris evans x black!reader

[meowdymista]

Van der Driscoll Pt 2

Arthur Morgan x Fem!Reader

You guys asked for more. Again, it is not perfect, BUT I accidentally wrote so much with so many perfect cut off points... Instead of smashing it in one post, I’m going to hit you up with Part 3 Saturday 9am GMT just coz

Word count: 1540

Warnings: Violence, abuse

Part One & Masterlist

Part Three

He stiffens at that, his eyes darkening introspectively. "Heidi?"

Hysteria bubbles in your chest. "You don't know her name? You don’t even-!” A laugh erupts from your throat. “How do you act so high and mighty when you don’t even know her name?"

"Y/N-"

"She wouldn’t have been there if it weren't for me! And then I went ahead and slept with her killer!"

"I weren't on that ferry-"

"But you stayed knowing what he had done!" You choke as the sobs finally overcome you. "You stayed with him and I stayed with Colm and… I thought you made it better, but this is so so much worse."

Arthur swears, reaching for you before retracting his hand hesitantly. "I'm sorry- if I'd have known…"

"You'd what? Leave them?" You try to scoff but the corners of your mouth are dragging too far towards your chin. “You have that luxury?”

He sighs, defeated. “You ain’t been in the game as long as I have. Sometimes things get messy.”

“Messy is a pile of lawmen. Messy is a couple of horses being lost.”

“I wasn’t there - things go wrong-”

“A job gone wrong is loss without a payday - it was a fucking massacre, Arthur! It was indiscriminate slaughter!”

“I’m sorry, ok? We’re all sorry about what happened!” He flicks the reins as if determined to leave the gang behind. “Nobody knows why, but everything blew up and bodies started hitting the deck. You ain’t the only one that lost family on that damn ferry - we lost more people than we have done in years. We tried to tell him it didn’t feel right- but no one ever imagined that...”

He trails off, his chin low, eyes only seeing the road ahead.  You shake your head, wanting nothing more than to curl up and cry, but the bonds are unforgiving so you stay as you are, looking anywhere but at the driver besides you.

Hours pass in silence. You catch him worrying in your peripherals occasionally, but it does nothing to help the ache in your chest nor the overwhelming exhaustion that has burrowed its way into your bone marrow.

Balancing a cigarette between his lips, he strikes a match on the bottom of his boot. When it’s lit, he offers it to you but you turn your head further away. 

“I’ve been smoking a lot lately,” he mutters, smoke curling from his lips. “I’m starting to doubt whether I’m breathing you in or smoking you out.” He throws you another glance, his eyes sad under the rim of his hat as he takes another deep drag. You close your eyes, trying to ignore the pain that ripples in his words.

“Didn’t expect to see you out here!”

Your stomach flutters as the familiar face grunts its way into view. He stretches his legs out, leaning back on his arms that have crossed over your own. Officially seated, he gives you a dazzling smile that makes you melt.

“Can a lady not enjoy some peace and quiet in this town?”

He chuckles, setting the worn gambler’s hat aside as he lights a smoke. “Surprised you’d want to.”

You nudge him playfully, accepting the proffered tobacco with fixed eye contact. You inhale the same air he’s blowing into the misty morning, trying not to let the blush creep up your neck. “What brings you back to Valentine? Outta supplies already?”

He rolls his eyes. “I wish.” You cock a flirtatious eyebrow, but he shakes his head, suddenly serious. “Where were you last week? I made the trip especially.”

“I was… visiting friends,” you lie.

“D’your friends know about me?”

“Do yours?”

His fingers caress your hand as he takes back the cigarette. “Touché.”

“What would you have done if it had been the other way round?” he asks eventually. “If you and Colm’s boys came into our camp… What would you have done?”

“I kill men - not women.” You open your eyes to meet his brooding gaze. “I… can’t imagine I’d have done well when I learned about the boy neither.”

“If they weren’t there?”

You swallow the lump in your throat as he looks away. “I wouldn’t have had a choice.”

“There’s always a choice,” he says lowly. “Is that what you tell yourself?” Your laugh is damp.

“This life…”

“Is shit.” You scoff as his lips thin. “We don’t go into it because we want to. The only reason we stick with it is because we’ve made too many enemies to go clean.”

“C’mon, it ain’t all bad-”

“Everything about us is fucked because we got caught in the crosshairs.” His mouth twists, your own disappointment reflected in his slouched shoulders. “You made me feel like… like all this mess was happening for a reason, but now…” Your voice breaks. “Even if I got away from Colm, you won’t leave Dutch. You wouldn’t have taken me back there if you could’ve. Everything is just… fucked.”

"How's your side?” he enquires gently.

"Least of my worries,” you mutter. You haven’t been able to sleep properly for weeks now, and when you do, your dreams are borderline hallucinogenic. The exhaustion has long since soaked into your bones, and now with your limbs bound for yet another unending hour, it wasn’t like the wound (or your broken tooth) were worthy of your concern.

Your giggles peeter out as you realise what he’s seeing. His eyes are soft and sad as his fingertips drink in the irregularities of your skin as gently as they can.

“Every one of them is a story,” you murmur, pulling his chin up and away from your body. “A story for another time.”

The corner of his lips tucks into his cheek. “Well, if we ain’t sharing secrets-” He leans back and pulls his shirt over his head in one swift tug. Your hands are small, pale and delicate against the muscles of his stomach. You comb them through the golden hair, trying not to linger on the silver scars that litter his body.

You wrap a hand around the back of his neck and pull him in, wordlessly thanking him. He responds firmly, his tongue tracing your lips as your bodies mould to one another. Despite your efforts, you realise with a sinking stomach that you have gone and fallen in love with him.

Graceful in defeat, you gorge yourself in this new emotion, allowing yourself to bask in the temporary bliss that is his company.

Dirt builds up behind your nails as you hiss back into the present moment.

“Done,” breathes Arthur, his fingers grazing the soft flesh of your hip as he cuts the thread. “I guess I should have guessed where all your stories came from. I didn’t mean to become one of them.”

You try to inspect the stitches yourself but they’re just out of your line of sight. Pulling down your shirt, you look around for the bedroll. Every string of every muscle is screaming for rest, no matter how temporary. As though reading your mind, Arthur tuts.

“You need to eat somethin’.”

“I’m not hungry.”

“You should be. When was the last time you ate?”

“I don’t know. I don’t care either."

He lights another cigarette as you crawl across the grass of your small camp and collapse just inside the tent. You barely close your eyes before the smell of tobacco wakes you again.

“Eat.”

You groan loudly. “What about you?”

“Forget about me.” A cigarette is pinched between his incisors as he begins to pack away the camp. “If you don’t start eatin’, I’m gonna have to do something we’ll both regret.”

The weight of your arms with the small spoon of soup is laughable. You force your mouth to meet it, your entire focus taken up by the menial task. You manage half a bowl before surrendering. Arthur is watching you over the back of his horse, the lines between his brows digging six feet into his head. He looks away quickly, his mouth still a thin line despite his efforts.

“We got another while to go yet.”

“Where are we going?” You watch him unpin the tent and fold it up.

“East.”

“East?” you repeat, laughing at how your ears have warped the sound. Your stomach sinks as you watch him purposely avoid you. “You handing me over?”

“What? No! O’course not, Y/N, I ain’t stupid.”

“Then… why east?” You watch him closely and notice his knee jittering despite his weight. “Where are you taking me?”

“You can’t stay here.”

“And you can’t let me go. If Colm catches me-”

“I won’t let him.”

“Then… what?” You swallow the lump in your throat. “I know you ain’t going to let me stay with you after what I said about Dutch.” Your weak laugh comes out breathless. “Arthur?”

“I’ll make sure you get out of here alright. I owe you that at least.”

“You don’t owe me anything,” you state as calmly as you can. “I’ll be fine.”

The shadows under his eyes are darker today. You can’t help but wonder how much longer he stayed awake after you passed out. “I won’t be able to forgive myself if something happens to you, Y/N. Let me have this.”

#rdr2 fanfic #rdr2 fic #red dead fic #red dead fanfic #arthur x female reader #Arthur Morgan x Female Reader #Arthur Morgan x Reader #arthur morgan #Arthur Morgan x O'Driscoll #MeowdyMista

[akimmito]

Heroes are made by the path they choose

First | Previous | AO3 | Next

Master List

Chapter 10

Richard Grayson never expected to meet someone who had an aura similar to Alfred's, but when he approached them after leaving the hotel and almost killed them with fright, he found that the existence of other like that was possible.

Hugo, as he presented himself, did them the favor of leading them to a house on the outskirts of Paris. Unlike Wayne Manor which is amazing to see, Lenoir Country House is like stepping into a magical garden worthy of being part of a movie set. Vines tangle in the wooden frames and arches forming a natural roof from which grapes hang, plus the rose bushes that cluster around. As they walk through what would be the totally green front garden, they begin to hear barking and, according to what they were seeing on social networks, Marie Lenoir's son has six dogs, two puppies and four adults, in addition to two cats (yes, they did their little research on the family and were able to see the only photograph of the boy, who has green eyes and a haunting resemblance to Bruce).

At the entrance of the house they are greeted by a gray-haired woman with a motherly gaze. She guides them through the small mansion to her employer's study, telling them some stories of the place's reform and how kind her boss is, letting the employees live in the house, in addition to informing them to be careful with the Animals that roam the house, can be very wild and are capable of knocking down adult men (he told the anecdote of Agatha rolling through the mud to Felix Graham de Vanily and Adrien Agreste at the same time).

Tim looks with interest at the scenery, everything is so… soft, warm and homey. The place is decently large, but it doesn't feel empty, not the way the mansion, even with everyone gathered, feels cold and lonely. In that house only three people are part of the Lenoir (if their observations are correct regarding Hugo).

As they walk down a hallway, they hear two different types of barking, but soon more join… until a black-haired boy pushes them aside as he runs, behind him come the four adult dogs and they manage to knock down Dick who had the unfortunate luck of not being moving in time, the two cubs pass over him.

A little subtly they hear the boyish childish laugh before crossing another hallway (although for Tim, it was more of an evil laugh).

"That boy, always doing his thing." The lady denies with a loving expression. "When I met him, he was very grumpy, he only gave us suspicious looks and observed us in everything we did, especially when we cooked. The first time he refused to eat something that had not been prepared by Miss Lenoir or Hugo, it was hard for him to trust us..."

"Looks like they had a rough start." Dick mentions curiously, wanting me to explain a little more about the boy. Marie has done a better job than Bruce keeping her son away from the media.

"I was, but I think it was worth it, he's a very special boy." She smiles and starts walking again, straight to the shrill noise of the dogs. They barely manage to hear the murmurs.

They enter the studio, a rather large and very elegant room in cream white and black. As they walk through the door, Marie looks up and drops the conversation she was having with her son, Damian turns and gives them a look of contempt, as if he really has something against them. Dick is openly confused by the boy's gaze.

"Welcome, Mr. Grayson and Mr. Drake." She smiles kindly and invites them to settle into the room, the dogs have already taken over a large part of the space. "Honey, why don't you take your friends out to play in the backyard?"

"They are very comfortable here, mother, besides, we have played all morning. We deserve a break. ”He responds politely and giving them another poisonous look, he sits on the black leather sofa (synthetic leather, of course) rising above them as the owner of the place.

Now Richard is much more confused, did they do something to offend the boy?

Tim is restless, the boy deliberately ran past his pack of dogs capable of taking down a Dick-sized man (maybe they could even knock someone like Jason or Bruce to the ground) and now he's subtly threatening them, maybe his older brother isn't I feel it as such, but Damian is drawing a line that if they cross, it will have consequences, and he doesn't want to imagine what that murderous-looking boy is capable of doing to them.

"Weren't you going to take measurements and ask what they want, mother?" Damian questions from her place, seeing that the three adults stood uneasily. Tim tries not to look in his direction, he has the feeling that he would smile darkly at him like a whole evil being.

"Sure..." She says and takes the tape measure from the desk and putting it on her shoulders, then picks up a pencil and her sketchbook. "So is it for an event or for everyday use?"

"Daily use, in my case". Dick responds as casually as he can, feeling the boy's gaze awkward. "Tim wants his suit for work."

"Comfort and elegance, I feel most of the time, but I need to be more than decent when executives decide to improvise a meeting." Tim looks around awkwardly. "It happens very frequently... and most are organized by Bruce"

Marie is aware of what Damian is doing, but doesn't understand the reasons, she has never had that behavior with a client and doubts that it's only because they are two men who border her age, there is something else and she's going to find out, these two men they mean something, her child only reacts to extremes when it comes to... his birth family. Well, mystery solved. Now, she will discover how to approach the issue.

She couldn't see the boy's reaction to his biological father's name, but ho gaze only intensified by throwing mental daggers at the younger of the two men, causing chills. Dick gives Damian a small look, yes, it's unsettling, but he's worried about the amount of contempt he has for them, he cannot even think about how sweet and pretty the designer is, because he's not blind and she's beautiful.

Damian takes out his phone and takes a subtle photograph that he sends to the chat he has with Felix, asking him to come help him intimidate those two men. She only receives a vague reply, but it's enough for him. Although his attention is slightly taken by the group chat, where he has the misfortune of being for being of all the members of the MT (official and unofficial) .. with a very subtle name and nobody don't want to tell him who was the genius who put it on, Although if he must guess, it must have been Kim. Between that and the ridiculous names, he's completely sure that it is his doing.

Marie spends the entire morning chatting with her two clients, Damian and her pack of dogs hang around the entire time. The two German Shepherds are very intimidating, especially Agatha whenever Richard leaned too closed to his mother.

Damian is not allowing his supposed brother to have even the slightest chance of becoming his alleged father. No, he prefers his mother's lover (whoever he is) a thousand times to anyone who is in any way related to his biological family.

----------

It's not the MT

The Antibiotic: Why wasn't told me the butterfly it was active?

Perfect Crime: Because, dear cousin, enough suffering is being married to the shrew.

Plasticine: Don’t invoke her, she’s worse than Satan.

Almost pretty: At least Satan is a good guy, he invited me for a few drinks when I went to Los Angeles with my mother.

Three balls: I signed him a comic, it's great.

Needle: I remember that day, he invited us to a trio

Dragon Tamer: I remind you that there is a child here.

Olive: Agreste, none warned you because they have the concentration capacity of a stick, that is, none.

Plasticine: And you?

Olive: I don't care enough to remember his existence.

The Antibiotic: At least you are sincere...

----------

At lunchtime, Felix arrives at the country house. The two clients are still there, after Damian left the room to go to the bathroom (he's still mad at his physiology for betraying him), Tim was more open about the details. Dick was also more relaxed and they even got into a little conversation around the stunts... until the boy returned.

Two things became clear to Dick: first, the boy has something against them, and second, he has a very heavy and intimidating presence. Very creepy if asked.

So, with everyone gathered in the dining room, it's almost a surprise to see Felix arrive carrying another puppy, Dick looks bitterly as the boy gets another dog, at least hde will not be there for when the puppy turns into a giant dog.

"Felix, what does this mean?"Marinette questions in dismay, none of her friends had given an animal to her son, most against her beacause allowing him to have so many pets (even though only Daphne lives in the apartment).

“A few nights ago I had an epiphany when I saw how a ridiculous suit was the solution to all our problems, so I decided to give Damian a Great Dane because… things can only be strange to a certain extent. "

"You're delusional." She wants to laugh at his logic, especially since he always seemed incredulous every time he saw a Lucky Charm, he always ended up talking to Tikki about it and ended the discussions regretting the loss of all logic (he gave up long ago time, but it seems that the last Akuma made him remember the strange things that it delivers).

"Anybody raves after that." Damian, take. ”The boy stands up to receive his new pet, showing a small and subtle smile when he takes the puppy in his arms. "I had a hard time getting it, I had to blackmail this friend of my mother who tried to sell it at exaggerated prices. "

Marinette gives him a warning look, refraining from saying what he did in front of her guests, can still save her family's reputation a bit after Damian nearly threatened them with kitchen knives (because the real weapons don't come out of the headquarters of the MT).

"Of course not, I made a deal, I can't reveal the circumstances of the deal." He smirks and  his gaze on Marinette's clients. "I'm sorry for my rudeness, I'm Felix Graham de Vanily."

"No problem, Richard Grayson." He gets up to shake hands and shake them, giving him a nice smile, Tim stays in his place and just introduces himself, looking at the blond man without being able to avoid that many expressions of the boy are reflected in him. Does Damian see him as his father figure? He's pleasant around him, although he has not seen how he acts in front of other people.

"Do you have lunch with us?" Marinette already knows the answer, but still asks for the employees to prepare another dish.

"Of course. "

"Does he have a name?" Damian asks after he has been stroking the puppy whose fur is completely black, who is happy to be cared for.

"No, you can put whatever you want and, for the love of all that is good, never ask my cousin about it again." Mariette smiles with amusement and settles again, although she knows that Damian will take a little longer to return to sit down.

"Pictso seems happy with his name." Damian says amused to see Felix's face contract, he enjoys teasing the adults around him (except his mother).

"It just shows that any creature that comes from my cousin has the same lousy taste as him."

"I thought that was established since he didn't accept that Chloe will start the divorce process." Marinette says simply as Margaret, Hugo's equivalent in the country house, comes in with the extra plate and places it right in front of Tim, at Damian's side of the seat.

Felix only teases and adjusts himself in his seat, Damian imitates him without releasing the puppy, ignoring Marinette's gaze.

"Damian."

"Only this time, mother, then he will be with his brothers." He responds, facing his mother, feeling Richard's gaze on him, making him uncomfortable because it's too soft for his taste.

What does he need to does to get those people out of his life forever?

--------

Damian @DamianLenoir

Titus is added to the family, his brothers adore him.

[Attached photo]

Chloe B. @BourgeoisQueen

@DamianLenoir Another one? Where do you get dogs so fast?

Marie L. @MarieLenoir

@DamianLenoir @BourgeoisQueen It was a gift from Felix.

Chloe B. @BourgeoisQueen

@DamianLenoir @MarieLenoir Tell me it's not related to the bottle of Château Cheval Blanc that he gave us all

Marc @MarcAC_twt

@DamianLenoir @BourgeoisQueen @MarieLenoir I think it is.

Nath @NathanielKC_twt

@DamianLenoir @BourgeoisQueen @MarieLenoir @MarcAC_twt I don't even dare to touch the bottle, why did he give us a damn 5,000 euros wine? I shouldn't have investigated...

Felix @GrahamV_Felix

@BourgeoisQueen @MarieLenoir @MarcAC_twt @NathanielKC_twt Say thanks, or didn't they teach you manners?

Nath @NathanielKC_twt

@BourgeoisQueen @MarieLenoir @MarcAC_twt @GrahamV_Felix I would be more grateful if I didn't feel that wine is worth more than all my art supplies

#dickinette #dick x marinette #maribat #ml x dc #mominette #Damian & Marinette

[not-a-christmas-tree]

i watched the dallas theater company les mis and here are my observations part TWO

i recently watched a modern adaptation of les mis from 2014! i took hella notes bc les mis being set in modern day has a LOT MORE than you would think! i just posted my act one notes, so here are the ones from act two. enjoy! :D

ACT TWO

(Building The Barricade)

oh javert,,,you and your red beret-scarf combo

everyone shakes hands the same way?? they all like. half bro hug. young people ig 🤷‍♀️ 

oh on my own is gonna hurt me huh

éponine has her hands up when she goes to take the letter to cosette that’s an interesting take

jvj looks so done lmao “really bruh just give me the letter i’ll give it to cosette it’s FINE”

omg first time i’ve ever seen éponine not take the money after the letter!! that actually makes so much sense bc she doesn’t take marius’ money when he asks her to find cosette’s house either. that,,,yes that’s good

the modern era begs the question... why didn’t marius just ask for cosette’s number?? i’d assume it’s just a thing that jvj doesn’t allow her to have a phone bc The Cops, but. maybe marius and cosette are the straight version of cottagecore lesbians they just write letters for ~The Aesthetic~

(On My Own)

i was right on my own was gonna hurt me

first time i’ve ever seen an éponine disguise where she actually passes as a boy lmao 

FINALLY A VERSION OF OMO WHERE ITS NOT JUST FORLORN SELF-CARESSING THANK YOU

surprisingly i have less notes here that’s fun i thought i’d have more

(Javert at the Barricades)

WOAHHHHH THEY DID NOT SKIMP ON BARRICADE SET PIECES THAT SHIT IS COOOOOL

oh the barricade scenes are already hitting too hard 

cops are in riot gear cops. are in. riot gear.

oh the javert spy thing that also hits funny because obviously

gavroche is armed with a bat i love you son

FULL VERSION OF LITTLE PEOPLE AT THE BARRICADE AYEEEEE

(A Little Fall Of Rain)

wait hold on why is marius not,,,singing to éponine on “why have you come back here?” he’s like. scolding someone,,, huh??

oh enj goes to help marius with ép!! and he calls over who i assume would be joly i STAN

MARIUS CRIES AFTER ÉP DIES KILL MEEEE

(The First Attack)

i like how jvj does the second confrontation here. he looks less angry and more like,,,compassionate and that MAKES SENSE bc yk. he’s telling javert he’s wrong but he’s not doing it out of spite he’s doing it bc this guy NEEDS to know what he does as a cop and realize that being a cop isn’t just enforcing rules, and it never was just that. 

i do love the exasperated “gO” from jvj that’s kinda great ngl

(Drink With Me)

i’m very sad that there won’t be any exr from these boys

v e r y sad here

i do see grantaire looking PRETTY sad though

bold of y’all to assume that the modern day amis would all be straight

okay i can tell that grantaire really is going hard on the Existential Singing like,,,sure he’s just standing there but like. damn bro

SO THERE A R E LADIES ON THE BARRICADE WHY TF ARENT THEY FIGHTING

BETTER SEE SOME CHANGE THERE

i just realized that the cockades are buttons that is the BEST

(Bring Him Home)

jvj actually looks kinda happy in BHH and tbh i kinda like it?? it’s only on the “he’s like the son i might have known” line but i like it

oh those vowels oh boy they TALL

(The Final Battle)

enjolras is for some reason, still angry...why...why bro....

the staging for gavroche’s death is INTERESTING bc he’s reaching up at the sniper on the tower. hm. i dont hate it

OH SOMEONE ON THE BARRICADE IS RECORDING I THINK!!! GOOD ADDITION!!

i can’t imagine how many blood packs they went through 

oh enjolras’s death okay so. he’s in a like. No Man’s Land almost, and the riot cops come in after him. it’s an interesting take because it almost mirrors the scene in the book, except obvs grantaire isn’t here. they also have an added scene after he dies where cops are checking out and using radios that is. that is EERIE.

jvj walks over to enjolras’s body 🥺

HE ALSO FUCKIN S C R E A M S WHEN HE SEES MARIUS ON THE GROUND GODDAMN MAN O U C H

thenardier steals combeferre’s glasses wow thanks for that added pain

thenardier and jvj have a mini fight oh that’s kinda cool hm

(Javert’s Soliliquy)

javert opens his soliloquy with some SPICY SADNESS OH B O Y he sounds broken already!! start strong!!

emotions go broken - anger - confusion? - mAJOR confusion - hopelessness 

javert can FLY! no legit he’s on ropes

(Turning)

turning is. turning is almost a funeral. 

OH THEYRE N U N S !

nuns are visiting the barricade 🥺 

OH DAMN “what’s the use of praying if there’s nobody who hears?” THAT CERTAINLY HAS WEIGHT NOW THAT THEY ARE N U N S

it has just occurred to me that people have been dead on the floor for like. a solid five minutes 

(Empty Chairs At Empty Tables)

“now my friends. are dead. and gone” he pauses like he’s realizing it just then oh OUCHIE

wait is marius,,,at the barricades? is he legit singing to his friends dead bodies? oh shit oh NO

OH N O OH NONONO THIS IS WORSE

THE BARRICADE BOYS RISE UP FROM THE FLOOR OH N O OUCH OUCH

they group up and salute him and wALK OFF NO OWWWW

*cosette and marius kiss* jvj: *COUGH COUGH*

marius and valjean’s lil conversation is interesting in the way valjean seems to ask marius “who am i?” rather than ask himself. he phrases it in a way that makes me think he’s like. quizzing marius lmao 

(The Wedding)

omg i think baby cosette and éponine are flower girls 🥺🥺

“go away thenardier” *madame mouths ‘dammit!’*

thenardier your boat shoes hurt me

madame: “get up! get up!” thenardier: “stop—STOP IT!” 

TWO GUYS ARE DANCING TOGETHER AND WAVE AT THENARDIER ON “this ones a queer, but what can you do”

yeah i think i found my new favorite thenardiers thank you dallas theater company

fantine sits on the bench when cosette comes by, cosette sits on bench next to her, and fantine tries to touch her but can’t 🥺

jvj just gave a hand-over-heart head nod to cosette but fantine gave it back i,,,ouch

ENJOLRAS AND GAVROCHE ARE WITH FANTINE AND ÉPONINE FOR JVJ’S DEATH

the chain gang is in the epilogue i repeat the cHAIN GANG IS IN THE EPILOGUE

the orchestra rests on the last “say do you hear the distant drums” and that was the coolest thing i’ve ever heard

that final harmony is MONEYYYY and i want to cry

OVERALL NOTES:

this javert has the most interesting interpretation because up until his FINAL SCENE he is the stone cold police officer, and he plays it SO WELL. like i have never been truly angry at a javert up until this guy, and whether that was because it was modern and resonates A LOT in 2020 or he just looks like a cop i want to punch, I DON’T KNOW but he plays it SO WELL and i love it so much!!

these thenardiers are the fucking BEST NGL they are the perfect mix of funny and cruel. madame t is also funny as HELL and i wish i had her talent lmao

i said it before but the police costumes in this show are. woosh. kudos to the costumer i took one look at those guys and was like “haha, no!.” vaguely related to that, i think this was the first time i nearly cried at Look Down like. the first song at the show, simply because of the convict getting the SHIT beat out of him on the floor. that hurt me and i hate that it is completely accurate to what happens in prisons today.

lovely ladies was,,,a LOT and tbh, i feel like it didn’t need to be. obviously it does show how horrible it is for sex workers, but that is why the music is there. the music and lyrics is there to tell what you don’t show visually. (though i do love the male prostitute lmao he took no shit)

i also said this before but the fact that there wasn’t bigger of a relationship between enjolras and grantaire kind of annoys me simply because they are revolutionaries in the present day. you can’t tell me that ALL OF THEM WERE STRAIGHT. with how many people i know now that identify under the queer and trans umbrella, and also how queer they are (to me) in the brick, the absence of any exr in a modern interpretation hurts a little.

in conclusion, this show was fucking FANTASTIC and even though i’m six years late, it still resonates hard given the time we live in today. i think i nearly screamed when i saw the cops in riot gear on the barricade because that is LITERALLY HAPPENING RIGHT NOW. this just reminds me how timeless the story of les mis is because you had to change LITERALLY NOTHING from the story to make it make sense in the modern age, and that is really the lesson you should learn from les mis; these things happen everywhere, and they need to be fixed. 

thank you for listening to my rambling, i am sure i forgot something because there was just so damn much but i hope you enjoyed otherwise! not-a christmas-tree out! :)

#les mis #les miserables #les amis #les amis de l'abc #dallas theater company #jean valjean #javert #fantine #cosette #marius #enjolras #grantaire

[adrenaline-roulette]

Four Eighths

Pairing: Four x Eight (Reader) Word count: 6K+ Warnings: Language, drinking, teasing, smut. I told you we would be getting to the smut, just gotta have some patience is all! *Disclaimer.  I’m so sorry there has been such a long break between chapters for this story. Some of you may be aware, I’m a healthcare worker, and with Covid-19 at the moment, work has gotten extremely intense and busy as of late. And I just haven’t had the chance to write as much as I would like too!

Catch up on Chapters One Two Three Four Five Six

Chapter Seven: Sex on the beach

The scent of Four’s mint toothpaste washes over you, the warmth of his breath caressing your lips. If either one of you were to lean in just slightly, your lips would touch, and heaven knows just how amazing that would feel! You can barely keep your eyes open, your lids fluttering on their own accord every few seconds. Slowly, as if he were doing it just to spite you, Four leans in, your already impossibly close lips now a mere hair width apart. It’s happening, he’s going to kiss you surely, you just know it! “You’re wasting the hot water.”

You blink your eyes open rapidly, pupils widening in shock at the words Four had just uttered. You had expected something sweet, maybe a term of endearment before the main event, but oh no, why would anything go your way?! “I beg your pardon?”

He’s grinning now, that damned infuriating cocky smirk that seems to be reserved solely for you. “I said, you’re wasting the hot water. You’re not the only one who will want a shower today.” He steps back from you, leaving the space he had occupied feeling cold and empty.

You can hear his words echoing around inside your skull but you can’t seem to quite understand them, your brain far too frazzled from the daydream it had conjured up. Soft lips locked with yours, fingers gripping curled blonde locks as your bodies press against the bathroom wall….. “Hot water?”  You sound like an idiot, and with the glazed far off look in your eyes, you certainly look the part too.

Four shakes his head, shaggy hair swaying as he does so, his sparkling eyes meeting yours one last time. He knows exactly what he’s doing to you, and he’s loving it. “Have a shower Eight.” He takes a few steps backwards, watching you intently before turning on the spot and marching out of the women’s bathroom.

You feel all the air leave your lungs the moment Four exits, your brain beginning to unscramble itself slowly. “That mother fu- I’ll kill him one day, I’ll bloody do it!” You mutter as you untangle your towel and step into the steady stream of water feeling the now lukewarm spray surround you. He was right though, not that you would admit it, the water was far less warm than it was when you had started, and it was only growing progressively colder.

*****  

“Are you guys actually taking me to a bar, or am I about to be murdered in the desert?” You hiss under your breath, turning a sideways glance to Five as she walked besides you. Ahead of you, bunched together were Four, One and Seven, and just behind you were Two and Three.

“Now why would I answer you truthfully?  If we were going to murder you, where would the fun be in having you know the plan?” Five smirks, patting you on the shoulder lightly, her nails scraping against the faded denim jacket you had hoisted on, on your way out of your trailer.

There’s no stopping your eyes rolling, a snort of a laugh breaking the silence which had settled over the ragtag group. Five grins at the sound just as the men ahead of you look behind themselves to see who had made the noise. Your hands fly up to your face, clasping over your mouth and nose, there’s no questioning who had snorted. “Real lady like Eight.” One grins, the look only broadening as a blush creeps up your face.

“Fuck you! I’m very dignified I’ll have you know!”

“Well clearly! I mean, with language like that I don’t see how there was ever any doubt?” Four jumps in, his eyes meeting yours instantly. His left hand it balled into a loose fist by his chin, with his thumb resting against his lower lip. The pose only causes your attention to be drawn to his lips once again, and if the gleam in his crystal eyes was anything to go off of, Four knows exactly what he was doing. Your mind is back in the bathroom, you can practically feel the steam of the shower surrounding you, and the heat is only slightly less than that of the heat you could feel from his body.

“Hey, to get to the bar you actually need to walk.” Five raises her brows at you, now a fair distance ahead of you, even Three and Two had surpassed you. Blinking rapidly, you look behind you to ensure that the couple had in fact walked past you, when had that happened? When had you stopped walking?

“Sorry, I – I actually have no excuse for that…” You shrug, power walking to catch up with Five once again. No one else seemed to have noticed your sudden inability to walk, or at the very least they all had the good grace to not mention it directly to you, which was perfectly fine by you, it meant that the silence which had fallen over the group allowed you time to plot. If this was how Four wanted to play things, then fine, so be it! Two can play at this game.

*****  

The bar was quite literally in the middle of nowhere, and despite the fact that you had driven past it on numerous occasions, you had never known it to be anything other than an old farmhouse. It certainly looked the part, but you had never seen it at night, and the appearance had changed entirely when you finally arrived. It appeared to be a popular spot for truckers to stop for a couple of rounds, before retiring to their trucks for the night, then starting their journey once again come daybreak. A large green neon sign sat in one of the windows, flashing ‘Open’ to any passersby, and you found after staring at the sign for too long you had begun to form a migraine.

“If you’re finished looking around, we can actually go inside.” Four was behind you, standing close enough that you could actually feel him pressed against your back, as his voice whispered against your ear.  The gentle breath of his voice was enough to cause your hair to tickle the shell of your ear as he spoke.

You turn on the spot, your resolve growing rapidly by the minute, he’s not the only one who can tease. The look of surprise on his face was almost enough to cause you to grin, but you school your features before he can catch on. Your tongue darts out to wet your lips, and you carefully monitor as Four’s eyes follow the motion intently, his eyes growing dark at the simple movement. “I was just about to head in. I’ll see you in there.”  You practically purr, making a show of moving just a fraction closer to him, so your chests were pressed together for just the briefest of moments. Moving away you swear your heart is about to leap out of your chest, given it was beating so rapidly. There’s a part of you that considers turning back to look at Four, but you think better of it, and considering you can’t hear him moving yet you can only assume he was struggling to process what had just happened. As if to add insult to injury, you add in just a little extra sway to your walk, your hips moving in an overtly sexual manner.

The interior of the bar was exactly how you would imagine, varying shades of brown bricks lined the walls halfway, meeting with gray corrugated steel before tapering off into chocolate brown skirting boards. The floor matched that of the skirting, but had obvious sun stains from where the hot desert sun had streaked in through the large windows. Sitting against the furthest wall was the bar itself, with shelves upon shelves packed with all assortments of liquor, and surrounding it were dark gray bar stools, with faded maroon cushions. A pool table sat in one corner, with a small congregation of people milling around, some with a pool cue, and others not. Hanging on the wall above the pool table was a decently sized television, which appeared to be airing the top ten touchdowns of the last decade. In the opposite corner was a jukebox which had definitely seen better days, though still managed to play a crackly version of 1985.  Small circular wooden tables were scattered around the bar, the chairs surrounding them were similar to those at the bar only the cushions were a navy-blue fabric. Finally, set up along the opposite wall to the bar were multiple booths, made of the same chocolate wood as the floor, and covered in maroon cushions.

Taking up one booth sat the Ghosts, all cramped together like a tin or sardines. On one side sat Two pressed up against the wall with Three beside her, and Seven on the edge. The opposite side had One against the wall, Five in the middle, and space for you to sit beside her. “Took you long enough, where have you been?” One smirked, peering at you from over the top of Five’s head.

You shrug lightly, dumping your small purse on the ground and sliding into the seat beside the Doctor. “Just looking around is all, I’ve never been here before remember.” You chew on your lower lip for a moment, opting to keep your next words silent, though it doesn’t stop you from thinking them –‘May never come back either, depending on how the mission goes.’

“Lay off, besides if you’d care to notice, Eight isn’t the only one who’s late to arrive.” Three chuckles, jerking his head towards the blonde who was striding over to your booth. Once stood at the head of the table, you watch carefully as his eyes passed over your group, irises growing dark as they fall and linger on you. You very nearly blush under his intense gaze, but your willpower holds up, and soon enough Four is averting his gaze from your heated one.

“Sorry mate, you’ll have to drag a chair over from another table.” Seven shrugs, drumming his calloused fingers against the sticky tabletop.

Four does as suggested, but not before making his complaints known. “We never used to have to bring extra chairs around, six people fit just fine at one booth.”  To the others, Four appeared totally serious in his grumbling, however you knew differently. As he walked over to another table, his shoulders remained slightly slumped, a sure way to know he was feeling comfortable and relaxed, if he were truly put out by the need of grabbing a chair, his entire body would’ve tensed up.

Once Four had situated the chair at the head of the table, two things happen. Thing one, his chair is closer to your side of the booth, and you realise that you only have to move your leg slightly to touch him, and thing two comes in the form of One making an announcement. “Who’s getting the first round then?”

Your eyes grow wide at his words, and they dart around at the others at the table frantically. No one seemed surprised like you, or if they are, they are far better at hiding it. “I – I didn’t bring any money with me….” You whisper to Five, who only smiles softly in response.

She turns her head to whisper her reply against your ear, and in the moment you look to Four, lifting one brow and smirking at the blonde. He can’t keep his eyes off you, and you suddenly realise that perhaps by taking control outside just before, you had turned him on more than initially intended. “Oh no, he doesn’t mean it like that. One always pays, we just all take it in turns of going up to the bar to order.”

You breathe an audible sigh of relief, brushing your hair back behind your ear as you do so. “I’ll go, if no one else will offer?” You smirk, already starting to stand from the booth, pressing both palms against the table to push yourself up.

One slides his card across the table, a move that would’ve looked undoubtedly cool if it weren’t for the fact that it got caught on a dried ring of soda on its way across to you. Resulting in Three picking the card up and passing it to you instead. “Does anyone have any orders in particular?”

“You get to order for the table, that’s one of the rules with these final briefing drinks. Whoever goes up to order, gets to decide on what we all drink. At least for that round.” Two smiles, the harsh lines around the corners of her lips softening for a moment. There’s no stopping the grin which slides across your lips, your eyes casting across the people you had begun to call your friends. Finally, they land on Four, who was doing an excellent job of pretending to be engrossed in a conversation with Seven. A plan was forming in your mind, a plan which if all went well, would result in Four doing practically anything for you.

Sliding away from the booth, you pocket One’s card, being sure to brush your arm against Four’s shoulder as you walk by him, heading over to the bar.  In the few short minutes you had been sat with the Ghosts, the bar had grown progressively busier, most tables now occupied, and a small crowd gathered around the bar itself. You wait patiently for your turn to order, grinning at the woman who serves you. “What can I get ya lovey?” She smiles, deep set lines around her eyes and mouth showing she seemed to have spent a great deal of her life smiling.

You know exactly what to order, and the woman nods her head, brunette ponytail swinging behind her, as she turns to work on your order.  When the drinks are finished, she sets them down on a black plastic circular tray. “You guys going to be ordering a lot tonight?”

“Hm? Oh, yeah we’re going to be here for a pretty long time I think.”

“Keep the tray then, just bring it up each time you order so we can use it again for ya.” She grins at you, picking up the card reader from bellow the bar and handing it to you, where you tap One’s card and await the ‘beep’ of approval.  “Enjoy sweetie!”

You can’t help but return the woman’s infectious smile, awkwardly picking up the tray and balancing it over both hands. The tray was full with three different sizes of glasses, had you gone slightly overboard with the first round of drinks? Maybe… But to be fair, whenever you would go out with your friends when you were alive, they used to always complain that you ordered boring drinks for the first round. Arriving back at the booth, you stand beside Four, bending over to place the tray on the table. Perhaps you were being over the top with your blatant teasing, but when your hip brushes against the side of his torso and you feel his entire body stiffen against you, you know you’re doing the right thing… Or at the very least, the fun thing!

“Fuck yeah! Look at you little Miss life and soul of the party!” Three cheers, clapping his hands together twice as the conversations at the table fall silent, all eyes watching as you distribute the drinks. Seven shots of tequila are passed around, until one rests before everyone, then comes the main event. A glass of Kraken rum and coke for yourself, two glasses of Wild Turkey American Honey on ice each for One and Seven. Corona with lemon for Three and one with lime for Two, and a glass of Malibu on ice for Five. And finally, the piece de resistance, one sex on the beach for Four.

Four stares at the peach coloured cocktail, the slice of orange, and maraschino cherry seeming to mock him from their decorative position. “I- uh… What?”

“Don’t be shy Padme! We all know how much you like peach flavoured things! And besides, you mentioned a while ago that you’d never tried sex on the beach, and well, you’re missing out…” Your voice grew low as you sat back down, and you pay no mind to everyone’s eyes watching you and Four’s interaction.

“I don’t believe cocktails were the topic of that particular conversation…” He whispers, biting down on his lower lip, as his eyes gloss over.

There’s no use in saying anything else, words were pointless at this stage, you had Four exactly where you wanted him. His mind was somewhere far away from the bar, likely somewhere on a beach… Once settled back down, you smile to yourself, turning your attention to the others at the table as Four remains silent. “What shall we drink to?”

The others do a good job at pretending they hadn’t witnessed what has transpired between you two, though you were positive Five had some questions for you, though you knew she would pick what would likely be the most inconvenient time to ask them. “How about we drink to a good mission? Seems appropriate?” Seven offers, his eyes darting between the dazed Four, and the grinning you.

One nods his agreement as you pass him his card back, his head nodding in thanks as he pockets it. “Sounds like a good reason to drink to me!”

“As if you need a reason.” Three smirks, quirking his brows.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Children please, this is a public place. One of the few public places in the area we are still welcome in might I add. If you want to fight, save it for when we get back home. But just so you are both aware, I refuse to patch either of you up if you hurt yourselves!” Five warns, her deep brown eyes cast in a firm, almost maternal glare.

Both men stop their bickering, looking like scorned children. “So, to a successful mission then?” Two pipes up, raising her shot glass into the air.

Five other glasses rise into the air, all eyes turning to Four, who had not yet raised his glass. “Psst, Skywalker, we’re making a toast.” You mock whisper. The blonde blinks rapidly, shadowed eyes meetings yours as he reaches for his shot, before raising it up.

“Let us drink to a successful mission. Eight, I know we’ll get the Lushnick’s, I promise you we will!” Two nods, a half smile tugging the corner of her lips.

“To killing the Lushnick’s!” You chime in, keeping your voice low enough so only your group could hear you.

“To killing the Lushnick’s!” Six voices echo, before you all down your tequila shots.

*****

From the first round onwards, the joke of buying Four a sex on the beach had stuck, the only time he was allowed to drink anything different was when it was his turn to order, and he had returned with an Evan Williams over ice. It was adorable to see what he returned with for you, it was almost as if he was trying to get back at you by placing a fruit tingle on the table. The lilac and blue cocktail a stark contrast to the various glasses of whiskey which sat before the other Ghosts.  “Oh Four! How did you know?” You cooed, batting your lashes up at him.

“Know what?” His lips were parted in a perfect ‘o’, and the look of confusion on his features was to die for.

“That I love fruit tingles!” You lean forward, creeping your hand across the table so you could rest it over the top of his knuckles, clasping your fingers around his for a few seconds. “In fact, if it weren’t for a fruit tingle, I never would’ve gotten laid… Hmmm, James, now he was something special.”

Just as quickly as you had placed it there, you pull your hand away from Four, before anyone else at the table could notice. At this point however, you would hardly care if someone did mention your actions, they were having the desired effect on Four, and that was all that mattered. Four had barely been able to sit still from the moment you had first returned with the drinks, he would squirm in his seat, and flush whenever he caught your eyes lingering on him for longer than would usually be considered appropriate.

One returned with a new round of drinks a short while later, once again depositing the same cocktail before Four, who no longer wore a look of disgruntlement when he looked at the peach drink. In fact, he went straight for the straw, taking a deep drink immediately. A small smirk quirks your lips as you watch him, and beneath the table you rub your foot against his ankle, kicking your shoe off awkwardly to achieve a small amount of skin to skin contact. “So tell us Eight, how exactly did One find you?” Three asks, clasping his fingers together, and locking them under his chin.

Your eyes drag away from Four, casting across the table before finally settling on One, a wicked grin tugging at your lips. “Oh, I was robbing One’s bank account for a while. So basically, he hired me so I would stop stealing from him.” You shrug.

There’s an eerie silence which befalls the table, suddenly all eyes are focused on you with a great deal of interest. “Hold up, that was you who was draining his account?” Two gasps, her eyes shining bright with glee.

“Heh, yeah, it was! So now instead of stealing his money, he pays me to be here.”

“Eight, you’re my fucking hero!” Five squeals, wrapping one arm around you in a side hug.

“What? Why?” There’s no hiding the look of confusion which crosses you features at Five’s outburst.

Seven, as always was the voice of reason, his soothing voice carrying over the laughter which was chorusing over the table. “Do you have any idea how confused and upset One was? The entire time you were taking his money, he would write up on the board in the briefing room his bank balance each week. At first, it was only going down by a little bit, but then I guess you got a little too bold, because the next thing we know, One’s going around accusing us all of having stolen his card and buying useless shit!”

Now it’s your turn to laugh, bowing your head and resting your chin against the table. “I’ve said it once and I’ll say it again! In my defence, technically One’s dead! I didn’t think a dead man would miss his money!”

“Well this dead man, really missed his money.” One grins affectionately at you.

“So, you’re part of the team now so One can more or less babysit you, and stop you from taking any more money from him, is that right?” Three chuckles.

Your shoulders shrug half heartedly, as you slowly pick yourself up from the table. “I suppose so, not that that will necessarily stop me however.”

“Hey, what’s that supposed to mean?” One cries, sloshing the amber liquid in his glass as he places it back on the table with too much force.

Beneath the table, you drag your foot further up Four’s leg, your toes brushing against his calf as you go up. “Never you mind. What I spend your money on without your permission is between me and my online shopping.”

As the conversation returns around you, you focus back on Four. Perhaps it was the copious amounts of alcohol you had consumed which made you so bold, though you would never be positive. “Do you wanna see a neat trick?”

Four’s brows crease in the middle, and he tilts his head to the side. “What are you on about?”

“You heard me! Do. You. Want. To. See. A. Trick?” You repeat, punctuating each word with your foot climbing ever further up his leg, now resting against his thigh.

You watch him gulp, his adams apple bobbing as he once again stirs in his seat. There was a blush creeping steadily further up his neck, it had started somewhere beneath his collar, and was now nearing his chin. “Sure, what’ve you got for me love?” You can see him desperately trying to regain control over this situation, but nothing was working for him, he was entirely at your mercy.

Reaching forwards, you pluck the cherry out of his glass, popping the entire thing in your mouth, stem and all. You make quick work of eating the actual cherry, before working your tongue around the deep red stem. Four can’t keep his eyes off your mouth, that is until…. You slide down your seat until you are able to reach new areas with your foot. It’s a risky move, at any moment someone either at your table, or another patron of the bar could clock on to what you were doing. But you were feeling bold, and so far, Four hadn’t voiced any complaints. Your foot creeps higher, until your toes press gently against the bulge in his trousers, an audible groan slipping from his lips. You had never done anything like this before, and you were honestly not sure what you were supposed to do next.  However, with your little trick now complete, that at least brought you some time.

Slowly, you open your mouth, pressing your tongue out slightly and presenting a carefully knotted cherry stem. This time, Four’s gasp is loud enough for the entire table to hear. “Ungh….” The knotted stem along with the gentle caress of your foot, was enough to have Four about ready to jump the table to kiss you.

“You alright there mate?” Seven asks, a genuine look of worry crossing his features. While Five simply turns to you, a knowing look dancing through her eyes.

“Ugh, yeah. I’m fine.” Four stammers out, raising a hand to brush through his hair.

Seven nods his head, though he doesn’t look entirely convinced by Four’s strained answer. Beneath the table, Four creeps his hand down to his lap, carefully wrapping his fingers around your ankle, and helping to guide your foot.  He was doing little to lessen the ever growing bulge, but he was certainly bringing himself closer to release, which was all he could really think about now.

“Oh god, this is a bit of a depressing song don’t you think?” Two sighs as cat’s in the cradle auto plays on the jukebox

“I wouldn’t go that far. Sure it’s kinda sad, but it’s pretty good…” You shrug, allowing Four to use your foot as he saw fit bellow the tabletop.

“I’m with Eight on this one, it’s a classic.” Four agrees, though his voice is strained, and there’s a guttural quality to it.

“Thank you, see great minds think alike!” You giggle, your breath hitching in your throat as Four brushes his finger along the arch of your foot.

“Great minds, or young minds?” Three smirks across at One, who both chuckle.

Five folds her arms across her chest, watching you and Four intently, before turning her gaze to One, Two and Three. Seven remained team Switzerland, though Five would settle this once and for all. “It truly is an excellent song! Come on, this is the best part too!”

All eyes are suddenly on Five, who had closed her eyes and was swaying along to the song. “And the cat’s in the cradle and the silver spoon-”

You bite down on your lip, slowly sliding your foot out of Four’s lap and back do the floor. “Little boy blue and the man in the moon-” You join in with her.

Four shakes his head, whether it was in disappointment to the sudden lack of your contact, or the fact that all roads in his life had lead him up to this point, you would never know. He lifts one eyebrow, cocking his head to the left as he regards Seven with a half grin. “When you coming home Dad, I don’t know when-” Both men chorus in with you and Five, the four of you grinning broadly at each other.

With a defeated sigh, One, Two and Three finally give in, joining with you all for the end of the chorus. “But we’ll get together then. Yeah, you know we’ll have a good time then…”

There was something bitter sweet about singing all together, the niggling thought of what tomorrow would bring slowly worked its way to the forefront of your brain. Tomorrow you would have your final briefing, and then, it would be into the lions den for all of you. For all you know, you could be about to send everyone into a suicide mission. But for now, for now there was happiness, there was signing, and if the look in Four’s eyes had anything to say, there was also lust.

There was an odd silence which fell over the group now, almost as if no one quite knew where to go next, or how to continue on from what had just happened. Ever the lady, you stand abruptly from your seat, stripping off your denim jacket, and folding it onto your seat. “I’ll be back!” You declare too loudly, shuffling away from the table and making your way through the bar.

“Is Eight only wearing one shoe?” Seven queries, frowning at your lopsided walk across the bar.

Five peers under the table, spotting your other shoe by your purse. “She sure is!”

“I’m going to get some air, I’ll be back.” Four mumbles, pushing away from the table himself, before following the same path as you a few minutes later.

Behind the bar was a door which lead to a corridor, one you hadn’t notice on your first inspection of the building. Inside stood four doors, two for the male and female bathrooms respectively, one for the cleaner’s cupboard, and another leading to apparently nowhere, at least that was your assumption, given the lack of signage. You make your way into the bathroom, taking a few minutes to check yourself over in the mirror above the sinks.  Your hair and makeup had remained relatively pristine, though there was a wild look in your eyes, one you hadn’t seen there before. Shaking your head twice, you finish off in the bathroom, before stepping out into the corridor once again. You can’t help yourself; the idea of an unmarked door was just too good of an opportunity to pass up, you simply had to find out what was behind there.

Reaching out, you pull the door open, and suddenly you’re met with a gust of cool night air, the smell of rain filling the air around you. The sky however was perfectly clear, void of any clouds, and instead, covered in a blanket of sparkling stars. Mixed with the scent of rain, was something you hadn’t smelt since you had ‘died’, the smell of cigarette smoke. Casting your gaze around at the few outdoor tables and chairs, you spot a lone figure, the puff of smoke coming from them. Stepping closer, you easily spot who it was, even in the dull light of the moon his blonde curls were easily recognisable. “Oh, how ironic. Behind door four is Four!” You laugh way too loud, especially for how terrible the pun was. But in your drunken state, to you it was the funniest thing anyone had ever said!

Four turns to look over his shoulder, a broad grin slipping across his lips as he plucks the cigarette from between them, exhaling a deep puff of smoke. “You’re missing the party inside. I think one more round of shots, and we’ll be able to convince Three to perform karaoke.

Shaking your head no, you strut over to Four, the same hip swaying you had done on the way into the bar earlier, now far less sexy, a lot more drunk. However, you made it to your destination none the less. “I think I like the party out here better.” You purr against his ear, straddling his lap as you feel Four’s hands automatically come up to rest against your waist.

Immediately, you can feel what little control he had over himself come crumbling down. His cock is pressed against the front of his trousers once more, and you grin to yourself as you make a point of circling your hips against him gently. The groan that slips from his throat is entirely pornographic, and it leaves you aching for more. “Ei-Eight…”

“Yes Four?” You giggle, circling your hips twice slowly, and once firm causing the blondes eyes to roll back in their sockets, and his head to tilt backward.

Leaning forward, you trail your tongue along his exposed throat, using the tip to follow every line carefully, until you reach his chin. “Should I go further?” You whisper, your breath fanning across his lips, just as his had back in the bathroom. The bathroom, the snake… It all felt like such a long time ago now, though it had only been hours, and not the weeks it felt like.

“God yes… Don’t stop. Please, keep going.” Four whines, his lips parting into a pout, as you press your palms against his chest, fingers clutching into the fabric of his shirt.

A wicked smirk overtakes your features, and ever so slowly you pull away, using your grip on Four’s shirt to pull him up with you. “You know, I don’t think I will actually…” With that, you carefully peel yourself off his lap, straightening yourself up, and taking a few steps away from the panting man.  “You should take a few minutes to cool down before you join us inside again.” You giggle, before turning on your heel and flouncing back inside the bar.

*****

“Why do we always insist on walking?” Five whines from the back of the group, dragging her feet through the dust as she walks.

“Well how else are we s’posed to get home? UBER doesn’t service this far out.” Two mutters, her fingers locked with Three’s as they walk at a slow pace. No one would dare say anything about their blatant display if their relationship, the only person who would was One, but he was far too drunk to even notice.

“Well somebody could drive next time!” Five suggests, her voice growing less powerful and drowsier by the second.

You look over your shoulder to the Doctor who was only a small ways behind you. “And who do you suggest stays sober to drive? Surely not you, Miss watch me do eight shots of vodka in a row!”

“Well obviously not me! How about Four? He could drive!”

Four, who had been awfully quiet since your little encounter outside, turned to look back at Five, his lips quirking as if to respond, before thinking better of it. Instead, he turned to face the front once more, picking up his pace so to arrive at base faster.

After another ten or so minutes of trudging, you a eventually make it back to base in one piece, though your aching ad blistered feet beg to differ. “Good night everyone!” Five calls out, as she hangs out of her trailer door, with one foot planted on the stairs and the other on the ground.

“Go to bed you looney!” Seven grins, waving goodbye to her.

“Sweet dreams Five.” You smile, blowing her a kiss, to which she pretends to catch.

After that, Five closes the door behind her, the lights in her trailer all turning off almost immediately. Next, Two follows Three into his trailer, neither being subtle about what was about to happen in the slightest. One stumbles into his own trailer, just as Four and Seven do the same, leaving you to find your own.

Once safely inside, you strip off your jacket and shirt, shuffling around your drawers in search of some fresh pyjamas. The door to your trailer remained open, allowing the pleasant night air to clear out the musty old air which had accumulated there. Just as you find a night shirt, you hear a voice clear behind you.

Whirling around on the spot, your hands instantly ball into fists ready to strike, only lowering to your sides when you see Four standing by your mini bar fridge. “If you thought you would tease me like that all night, and not have this coming…. Oh baby, you’ve got another thing coming.

^^^^ I’m not going to say sorry for yet another cliffhanger... Besides, I think we all know where we’l be headed in chapter eight (If you’re expecting anything other than smut, you will be sadly mistaken)

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Chapter Eight now up!

#four x reader #four x eight #ben hardy fanfic #ben hardy four #ben hardy/ billy #hacker reader #billy four #6 underground fanfiction #6 underground one #6 underground two #6 underground three #6 underground four #6 underground five #6 underground seven #enemies to friends #friends to lovers #Smut #light smut

[arabellaaaas]

Favorite Worst Nightmare

Part 2: Knee socks

|An Alex Turner x Arabella Davis fanfiction series

Description: When two broken hearted meet, they try and hide their past. A story about two young adults whose pasts won't let them find happiness again in each other's arms right away.

Word Count: 1.8k

A/N: Hello, again! First of all, the gifs are not mine!! FULL CREDITS TO THE AMAZING OWNER. Thank you for the small amount of people that read my story and interacted with it. I hope you all trust me and read this chapter and wait for it to get even better! Have a wonderful day 💕

Everything went incredibly well for her. She just felt like going out to grab a breath of air and smoke a cigarette while escaping the crowd for a little. She loved being back in a room full of random people doing their own things. She missed dancing, singing, chatting with everyone, and having a good laugh with her friend. Speaking of her, she had found a guy she said "she really liked", but that's what she's saying about everyone. She seemed to have fun though, which was important since she tried so hard to convince the brunette to come with her. Arabella was looking over to her right at a group of friends that were drinking their beverages outside while singing the songs they are hearing from the inside of the bar. She smiled a little for herself so she doesn't look like a psychopath. Coming to think of it, she might have looked like one. She was sitting alone, leaning of the wall behind her, smoking while slowly moving her head on the rhythm she was hearing. She had three drinks already but she wasn't feeling dizzy or anything. Maybe just a little more lively. She saw another group entering the bar, trying to see if someone caught her eye. When she tried to breathe the smoke from her cigarette, she couldn't, realizing it went out. She tried to light it again, but her lighter decided that it was a perfect time to stop working. After a few tries, a hand holding a steel lighter reached out to her, helping her out. When the cigarette was finally lighted again, she looked up and saw a man standing in front of her. His hair stood out the most. It was a dark brown slicked back hair with a strand standing on his forehead. It reminded her of men in 1950. She also noticed his leather jacket that matched with his sunglasses in terms of feeling.

"Oh, thank you! Apparently my lighter decided it's time for her to betray me." she joked, smiling at him lightly. He gave off a mysterious vibe that intrigued her a little bit. He took off his glasses, revealing a pair of dark brown eyes that looked directly onto hers. "How come you are sitting here alone?" he isn't hesitating to ask right away, smirking. He also took his pack out of one of the pockets of his jacket and lighted one while still starring into the girl's eyes. "I'm the one who smokes so I have to come alone, I guess. Plus, I needed a little bit of air to cool my mind. But what about you. You came bt yourself as well, I see." He peeked at her knee socks thinking about how they made her look. He remembers seeing all the girls wearing them almost six years ago if not more. The fact that she still wore them to that day made him laugh inside of his head, coming to realize that she maybe doesn't really care about the trends, or maybe she is loving the old-fashioned look. He finally took a glance at her top, which was a silky one that embraced her body. "Well, my mates didn't want to lose the attention the chicks gave them so they decided not to come". "And you didn't get the attention or didn't care enough to stay there?" she asks putting one hand in her pocket and lifting her leg so it was then also leaning on the bright colored wall that was behind her. When looking at him, she could tell that he definitely gets a lot of attention from the girls in there. He was the type of man that most girls would have a crush on. The image he had really had an impact on ladies around since a lot of them were turning their heads over to him. He looked like he didn't care about a lot of things, but in a cool way, not an awful one. But you cannot ever tell how a person actually is by only the first glance.

"Do you think I look like I don't get enough attention?" He said amused. He was clearly joking around, she could tell by his tone. He was confident, something she was interested in. "I didn't say that. I was thinking that you are getting all the attention, I just wanted to talk to you a little more." "We could talk all night long if you want,..." he stopped and looked at her, giving her a hint that he wanted to get her name at the very least. "Arabella Davis" she swiftly completed his phrase, inhaling again. "Brilliant name, I love it. I am Alexander Turner, but you can call me Alex" he stretched his arm to grab her hand and softly kiss the back of it. He really was a gentleman, trying to impress her in an actual wonderful way. It did not even seem cheesy or faked, it was ~brilliant~. "If I may ask, are you from here? Your sense of style tells me you might not be from here." He asked, letting her hand go. She threw her now blown out cigarette to the closest trash can and then came closer to him, answering "I lived here my whole life actually. Why? Do I not dress pretty enough to catch your attention, Alexander?". Her tone was getting really flirty out of the blue. Even he was surprised. A moment ago she was the one joking, now she's flirting. It was really something Alex wanted to explore. As a first impression, he thought she really is someone full of surprises. "Actually, I like it. You're quite my type if I come to think of it." He also came closer to her, placing his hand on the wall, right by her head.

"Oh, you're just trying to flirt. There must be really something about me to come to your liking I guess." Her confidence was subtle but still strong. She hoped that Mr. Confident wanted to hop on the game she just started, and it happened. "There are some things, yeah. but I shall admit, the knee socks really got my attention." he smirks, lowering his voice a little. His voice was somewhere in between the husky type of voice and the clear, calm one. His tone, completed by his Sheffield accent made the brunette want to spend a few more minutes with him. The thing that probably every and each woman noticed about him is that he looks really carefree. He is someone you would most likely want to be around. He would phone someone in the middle of the night to go for a drive to New York, or just to go for some drinks. There's no existent person that could read Alexander Turner from their first contact. This man fools people into thinking they can tell the kind of person he is when in reality the only things they know are the ones he allows them to know. He considers it dangerous to open up to everyone, and he was right. To unveil your feelings to someone that doesn't unveil theirs is like walking yourself to heartbreak. That's why Alex preferred only opening up to people who felt like their plan was not to betray him. People often confuse him with a dark, cold, and miserable gal, when this is only the impression he is trying to pull off so that the rest of the world won't reach out to him. He was playing hard to get, but at the same time, he was well known for his flirting skills. He is one of a kind.

The corners of her mouth rose as he mentioned her piece of clothing she was most confident about. There was something about them that just made her feel so good about herself. For the first time in a while, Alex was actually interested in someone. She made him reach out to her without a second thought, without any trick or anything. Something about her was winking at him. He thought it might be the way she dresses, she stands out. But after a few more moments of chatting, it was her image that she built for herself. Also, her gestures were really subtle but you could tell she did not come here to find someone to shag. She came to have fun and flirt a little, making guys think about her for the next few weeks. He could tell she is not really the woman she is pretending to be. Behind the strong confidence she built up in her eyes, the actual scared teenager was hiding. Her sparkly marble grey eyes we're generally doing fine at hiding feelings, but it did not work for Alex. He figured out she went through a lot but she is the type of woman to firstly help the others before helping herself. Her hands were shaking on her cigarette as she was talking to him, and it was not because she felt intimidated in any way. Besides her psychical characteristics he was trying to learn about more, he noticed a lot of details in her appearance also. What really caught his eye were the freckles she tried to hide with her make-up but couldn't. Small light brown dots could be spotted seeking through her foundation. Her make up was not heavy, but it made a little bit of difference, of course. She had a really healthy posture also. She surely was shorted than him, but God did she make it look like it was not a big discrepancy between them. She stood in front of him with a puffed out chest like she never lost a war. 

"I think I, unfortunately, have to go back to my friend. I don't want to leave her with some random guy she just met," she said, waking him up from the little moment of analyzing he had. "Fair enough, but aren't you talking with some random guy as well?" he took his hand back, placing both in his pockets. "We could be more than just strangers," she says right before she left. She did not say anything other than that, neither did she wait for the man's reaction. There was still time for Alex to grab her number, but she was playing hard to get and he did not want to show off as a bold man. He kept on tracing her walking figure until he could not see her anymore. He shook his head, laughing for himself while lighting up another cigarette before going back to Matt and Miles. He kept on thinking of ways to get her numbers, coming to realize that he did not do that in a while. He shook his head again, realizing that these thoughts will probably be over soon. But that did not withhold him from trying to get past her hard-to-get image.

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

#alex turner #Alexander turner #arctic monkeys #arcticmonkeys #favourite worst nightmare #humbug #matt henders #miles kane #fanfiction #strangers #alex turner imagine #alex turner fanfiction #alex turner x reader #alex turner story #alex turner imaginez #alex turner gif #alex turner everything #pls read i put my soul into this #why'd you only call me when you're high #knee socks #alex turner love #alex turner x imagine #alex turner x story

[fortheloveoffanfic]

Lullaby

Keanu Reeves x Reader (A/n- After a one week, unforeseen hiatus, we’re back. Also, in retrospect, these two have been having a lot of sex, I'm not even sure if this is realistic. Welp.) (Chapter Summary- Keanu’s sister confronts him about his dealings with a certain young lady and Y/n returns to The Heather for an awkward reunion with her friends.)

Chapter1  Chapter2  Chapter3  Chapter4  Chapter5  Chapter6

Warnings- SMUT/NSFW (it’s at the end)

Chapter 7

After Y/n had hurriedly gotten into her dress and collected her stuff, she had nearly run out of Keanu’s suite, with barely a good bye. When she was gone, Keanu disappeared back into the bathroom, only remerging when he found a pair of sweat pants that he had left in there after his first night at the hotel. “So...” Karina began, observing him curiously as he shut the door behind him.

“So?” He feigned ignorance, hoping he could avoid a conversation on the matter. 

“So if you wanted to bring along your secret girlfriend, I don’t think mom would have minded. I mean, she looks really young. Like really, really-”

“I get it,” Keanu emphasized, pushing off from the wall that he was leaning on, rolling his eyes as Karina started fluffing the pillows, long deciding that it was probably the safest part of the bed to touch. She always had to be doing something with her hands whenever she was nervous, “And Y/n isn’t my girlfriend.”

“Well that makes more sense,” she returned, no hesitation in her tone.

Keanu’s brows knitted in confusion, “What the hell does that mean?” He frowned as he opened one of his suit cases, rummaging through it in search of a t-shirt.

“It just means that you’re not the kind of guy to date some kid,” she scoffed.

Keanu rolled his eyes again, “Y/n not a kid. She’s twenty-three.”

Karina huffed, chuckling quietly, “Compared to fifty-five, she’s a kid. Keke, she could be your kid.”

“First of all, don’t be gross. And second of all, she’s not my kid,” he explained, rolling his eyes, already exasperated.

Hitting the pillow as she set it down, “I just think that-” Karina gasped loudly, “Jesus, do you have torture chamber in here or something?”

“What?” Keanu scrunched his nose, finally producing plain grey t-shirt from his suitcase. When his sister didn’t answer, still staring at his back with a mix of horror and confusion, he moved to stand backwards in front of the mirror, craning his neck uncomfortably to see what she was seeing. Sure enough, there were angry red lines running the length of his back, “Oh,” he chuckled absently, “That’s-”

“Never mind,” Karina cringed, clearly disgusted at the mere thought, “I don’t want to know,” she shook her head, shuddering as Keanu started puling the t-shirt on over his head, “Look,” Karina sighed, “I don’t wanna be that sister that gets overly involved in her brother’s personal life, I just.....how are people gonna look at you if this gets out? How are people gonna look at her?” 

With a heavy sigh, Keanu sat on the bed, starting to put on a pair of running shoes, he really needed an out from that conversation and he wasn’t going to find one in that hotel room, “I’m going for a run, why don’t you tell mom I’ll meet you guys for lunch.”

Realizing that he wasn’t going to entertain the topic any further, Keanu’s sister just sighed, already on her way out, “Yeah, sure. Just be careful,” smiling tightly, she didn’t even wait for him to respond before pulling the door closed behind her and heading out. 

As Y/n approached the sleek black vessel bobbing idly in the water, she silently hoped that she could head straight to her room without having to interact with anyone. Though Keanu had offered a jacket or a scarf, something to cover up with, Y/n had been to flustered to wait for him to find one, opting to walk back hurriedly with her head down and sunglasses protecting her identity. 

Quickly, she jogged over the short iron ramp that bridged the space between the yacht and the dock. Thankfully, the poolside and living room was clear and Y/n was even a little shocked that there was no one there. Hurriedly she went up the stairs, relieved that thus far, she hadn’t had any run ins. Though, her relief short-lived when she bumped into Tracy, who was just coming out of one of the guest bedrooms, and not one that she was staying in, “Y/n!” She sighed loudly,pulling her into a hug, which was a bit alarming considering Tracy had never been a big hugger.

“Trace,” Y/n reciprocated, patting her back slowly, confused by the out of character display of affection, “Everything okay?”

“Yeah,” she sighed, pulling away awkwardly, “Where the hell were you? We’ve been looking for you!”

“In Matt’s room?” Y/n cocked a curious eyebrow, her gaze shifting between the door and a somewhat flustered Tracy. 

Clearing her throat, Tracy straightened her back, “What the hell happened to your neck?”

“I asked you a question first!” She frowned as they both tried to deflect semi-obvious, unspoken truths. 

Of course, Tracy was always better at getting straight to the point, “Yeah, well, I’m not the one who look like someone did a tour of Iraq on her neck. Besides, we’ve been calling.”

“It does not look that bad,” Y/n’s hands flew to her neck, “Look, just.....I was out, okay? And my phone died,” she managed, already turning to go up the second flight of stairs, "I need to go take a shower," Y/n huffed.

"Looks like you already took a shower," Tracy smirked, referring to her drying hair, "It was him, wasn't it?"

"Who?" Y/n turned, facing Tracy again, pretending not to know what she was talking about.

"Who?" She mocked, rolling her hazel eyes, "Come on, I'm not an idiot, Jill and company told me who they left you with yesterday," she teased, "And I used to be your roommate; I can tell your walk of shame from a mile away."

"Ugh," Y/n sighed, hanging her shoulders, "Fine. It was Keanu," she rolled her eyes.

Tracy joined her on the stairs, and slowly, they walked to Y/n's room. "Nice guy movie star did that?" She chuckled, almost as if she couldn't believe it and Y/n's cheeks took on a barely noticeable shade of pink, "I might have to get me some of that."

"No, you do not," Y/n deterred as they approached the double doors to her room. As the entered, Tracy immediately flopped onto Y/n's bed, still grinning wickedly.

"Then he must be really good; if you're not willing to let him go," Y/n just shook her head, going through her stuff in search of an outfit, "So, are you gonna see him again?"

"I don't know," she shrugged, dumping a sweater and a pair of faded blue capris onto the bed, "We didn't really talk about it."

"I can see that," Tracy hummed, “I’m surprised you came back if it was that good though.”

Getting a towel out of a near by closet, Y/n stopped, leaning against the wall, “Yeah, well, his sister caught us. Definitely not the best part of my morning.”

“No shit,” Tracy chuckled, laying back on the bed, staring up at the ceiling as she rubbed her arms up and down the sheets.

Still holding the towel, Y/n sat next to Tracy, “Since we’re on the topic of getting caught in awkward positions; what were you doing in Matt’s room?”

“Woah Y/n/n!” Tracy sat up, laughing loudly, “That was a stretch, wasn’t it? But if you must know...” she trailed off, looking to see if she could somehow get out of explaining why she was there. Tracy and Y/n had been friends for going on six years and they had both met Matt at a college frat party; and from the minute they were introduced, Tracy and Matt had been at odds, though everyone always teased them, saying that they fought like an old married couple. “I was just.....”

“You were just...?” Y/n encouraged, gesturing with her hand for Tracy to continue.

“I was just asking Matt if he had any sunscreen,” it didn’t even sound like Tracy believed what she was saying, “It turns out that he didn’t,” she scoffed, “That dumbass doesn’t know how dangerous UV rays are,” she grumbled, actively avoiding Y/n’s gaze.

“Okay, first of all, I don’t think Matt’s ever owned sunscreen, I mean, he’s Matt; he lives in New York and barely ever leaves his office. This might be the closest he’s been to a beach since college,” dropping the folded towel on her lap, Y/n folded her arms, “And I find it hard to believe that you forgot to pack sunscreen considering-”

Playfully, Tracy shoved Y/n into a standing position, expertly cutting her off, “You know, I just remembered; Amanda was saying something about asking the captain to take the boat out later, maybe you should go shower, put on this adorable-hickey hiding outfit and go tell her its a great idea! Go, go go!” Tracy encouraged, standing abruptly, “I’m just gonna.....call my attending, you know to, check in.”

“What are you gonna do? See if a implants at ten went as scheduled?” Y/n teased, smirking at Tracy’s erratic behavior.

“Yes! Laugh all you want, but a bad boob job is socially debilitating, and as a doctor, I have a duty to make sure that patients are comfortable and happy with their results,” already, Tracy was half out the door, “I’m going now,” she announced, pulling the door closed behind her, all but literally running away from their conversation. 

Confused, Y/n undressed and headed towards the bathroom, intent on freshening up in a way that showering with Keanu hadn't allowed.

Afterwards, Y/n took her time in getting dressed. The warm water and rubbing from her lufa had remedied some of the hickeys; some had faded and lighter ones were barely visible, but her loose turtleneck was still in order. She paired her outfit with a cute pair of oxfords, that had somehow made it into her suitcase, and then ran a brush through her damp hair.

When Y/n got to the poolside, everyone was there; Matt, Jillian and Tracy were lounging in the shade, chatting over drinks while Catherine and Amanda were in the pool. "Look who finally found their way back!" Amanda cheered from the water.

Rolling her eyes as she laughed quietly, Y/n plopped into a empty chair after grabbing a beer from the bar. "Isn't it a little warm for a sweater?" Jillian scrunched her nose.

"She's hiding her sex scars," Tracy interjected with a smirk.

"Sex scars?" Matt's brows knitted.

"They are not sex scars," Y/n sighed, taking a swing from her tinted bottle.

"Do you have clever word play on stock or something?" Jillian turned to Tracy.

Chuckling, Tracy took a bite out of a strawberry and as she swallowed, she returned, "It's a gift."

"I still wanna see Y/n's sex scars, whatever that is," Matt said and Tracy mumbled something about him being too dense to understand. Reaching to playfully tug on the neck of her sweater, Y/n lightly swatted at his hand, squealing when she failed to deter him. "Wow," he breathed.

Squinting her eyes, Jillian leaned forward, hampered by the little patio table that they were at, "Isn't that one too big to be a hickey?"

"Okay," Y/n shoved Matt's hand away, readjusting the collar of her top, "I don't wanna talk about this anymore."

"I have something we can talk about," Amanda said, coming up from the pool, using a towel of soak up most of the water before she slouched down in the wicker chair next to Y/n. Catherine wasn't to far behind, squeezing water out of her long blonde locks. "Let's have a party. Invite a bunch of people and take the boat out tonight. It'll be fun."

"Do we even know people to invite?" Y/n chimed in.

"Yeah, I wasn't aware that we had a Greek party crew," Tracy agreed.

"You weren't," Amanda pointed to Y/n, Matt and Tracy, "Because while Y/n was getting laid and you two were doing.......whatever you were doing," Amanda looked between them, "We were making friends."

Catherine hummed her agreement, "We met this awesome group at a club last night, said their down to party whenever we were ready. If we ask them and they bring their friends....."

"It'll be lots of fun," Jillian finished.

"Then what are we waiting for?" Y/n chortled, "Let's do it!"

Everyone cheered in excited agreement and they quickly started discussing specifics for the coming night. A quick word to someone from the staff ensured that the captain and the rest of the crew would know to prepare and as they moved on to discussing building up a a crowd, Catherine suddenly gasped, grabbing Y/n's hand from across the table, "You should invite Keanu!"

"You should!" Jillian agreed, "As a 'thank you' for fucking you senseless."

"I don't know," Y/n frowned, “What if that’s weird? I mean, his sister caught us and we didn’t talk about seeing each other again. Isn’t that like asking out your one night stand?”

“People do that all the time,” Catherine countered.

“Yeah,” Matt winced, passing a hand over his five o’clock shadow, “But then it’s not really a one-night stand anymore.”

“I think you should do it,” Amanda put her hand on Y/n’s shoulder, “But only if you want too.”

She wanted to, she really did. But Y/n didn’t want to overstep in thinking that just one wild night together meant that they would just start hanging out, “I do,” she sighed, “I just don’t want it to be weird you. I mean, how’s that gonna go?”

“Come on hun, the worst that can happen is that he says no,” Jillian folded her arms, eyes challenging, “But you won’t find out unless you try. So you should try.”

“Okay,” Y/n nodded, shifting uncomfortably in her chair as she tried to summon the resolve to make her way over to Keanu’s hotel.

“Now,” Jillian urged.

“Ugh,” Y/n stood reluctantly, knowing that they wouldn’t let it go until she went over there and came back successful. They really were good friends. pushy and overly-involved but still good and Y/n knew that they always meant well.

Three short knocks had Keanu pushing off the sofa, headed towards the door. He had had just returned from lunch with his family and had planned on spending the rest his afternoon with a book. It wasn’t exactly the a conventional vacation activity but his conversation with sister from earlier that day had left him in a less than favorable mood. Though, it only took pulling the front door open to change that, “Y/n,” he smiled, “I wasn’t expecting to see you.”

“Oh?” She beamed, taunting him, “I thought you were confident in your abilities,” Y/n winked, tilting her head to the side, regarding him through sparkling eyes.

Keanu scoffed humorously, leaning against the doorframe, “Nice sweater,” he mused, his gaze flickering over her body, even in loose clothing and with wind tousled hair, Y/n looked every bit one of the most desirable woman he had ever come across, “And I’m very confident,” Keanu leaned forward, close to her face, his lips centimeters away from her, “And those little sounds you made reminded me that I have every right to be.”

Y/n’s breath caught and before she could even think of  leaning forward to kiss Keanu, he was upright again, out of reach without effort. Flashes from the night before and even that morning barraged Y/n, bringing with it a distinct, rosy heat to her cheeks. Keanu had been so skilled at extracting everything from breathy moans to muddled praises. He knew just where to touch and how to do it and the mere thought of his hands on her body again was sending her into a heated frenzy, and, for some reason, him standing there in a t-shirt that stretched over his firm biceps and sweatpants didn’t really improve her situation.

Fighting to get herself under control, Y/n had to take a deep breath and drag her bottom lip between her teeth, “You really know how to get a reaction, don’t you?”

“I have my moments,” Keanu teased, “You know I’m happy to see you, but what are you really doing here?” He folded his arms and Y/n had to try to ignore how good he looked like that, shifting her weight from on leg to the other.

Y/n huffed quietly, “We’re having a party tonight, I want you to come.”

“Is this the kind of party where I have to wear a tux?”

“Jeans and a t-shirt will be fine. We’re at the private dock a half mile up, and we leave at nine,” Y/n had already started walking backwards down the hall, not giving him a chance to say ‘no’ or herself the opportunity to stay at his suite for longer than intended, “I’ll see you?”

“You’ll see me,” Keanu determined, watching her enter the elevator, his smile not fading even retreated back into his room.

Y/n stood amidst the large gathered crowd, music so loud that she could feel it throbbing in her chest and probably ruining her hearing. It was getting closer to nine, in fact, there was just ten minutes left in the hour and Keanu still hadn’t shown. Y/n was staring to think he wasn’t going to at all.

“Looking for someone?” A deep voice along with a hand on her arm startled Y/n, nearly making her spill beer on her dress.

“What?” She turned abruptly, smiling when she saw it was Keanu, “Oh! Uh....” Y/n trailed off definitely not willing to tell him that she had been awaiting his arrival, “No, well, yes,” she stuttered, racking her frozen brain for an appropriate excuse, “I was looking for someone to dance with.”

“Well now you’ve found someone,” Keanu beamed, relieving Y/n of her drink, discarding it on a near by table, “Come on,” he encouraged, pulling her closer to the center of the makeshift dance floor. 

Y/n took Keanu’s hand, only just taking in his outfit; black jeans with a grey t-shirt, black leather jacket and brown boots, “You look great!” Y/n’s voice combatted the volume of the music, almost losing it’s way to his ears.

“You look even better!” He returned, looking down at Y/n who was wearing a glittery, one shouldered mini dress, and her straightened hair fell, needle straight, over her bare shoulder “What did you do about....” he gestured to her neck area.

“Make-up,” Y/n answered, shimmying closer as Keanu’s hands slid down to stay secured on her hips, “Took an hour.”

“Sorry about that,” he chortled.

“No you’re not,” Y/n’s hands wound around Keanu’s neck, pressing her body to his.

“Eh, maybe you’re right,” he winked

Getting lost in the music was easy and Y/n’s dance moves slowly became more suggestive, with the sole intent of teasing Keanu. In response, his hands slid down her waist, around to her back, lingering on the curve of her behind. When Y/n turned in his embrace, Keanu roamed her body, his fingers almost electric as they brushed the exposed skin of her thigh just below the hem of her dress. Reaching backwards, she leant her head against his chest and urged his face closer to the back of her neck.

“Maybe we should go somewhere more private?” He suggested, his whisper a warm wave against her diamond-studded ear. 

Twisting her body and tangling her fingers in Keanu’s hair, Y/n pulled Keanu into a hot, brief kiss, “We should. Come on,” untangling from him, Y/n took Keanu’s hands, lacing her fingers with his, leading him inside, barely paying any mind to the few party-goers that had populated the living room. Though, from the minute they found themselves in a lonely, minute cubby between the stairs and the wall, Keanu’s lips were on hers, his hands slipping beneath the end of her dress, kneading and groping as she worked on the buckle of his belt.

“Where’s your room?” He breathed when they broke for air.

“Third floor,” Y/n returned her lips on Keanu’s neck as she shoved his jacket off.

Pushing her panties to the floor, Keanu slipped a couple digits into her slick folds, smiling as she moaned loudly, “That’s too far,” slowly he pumped between intervals spent rubbing her cilt, “Where else?” He urged.

Throwing her head back, Y/n almost hit it on the wall behind her, and she was having a hard time finding it hard to offer any comprehendible response. “Come on baby,” Keanu encouraged, slowing his movements.

Between moans a whines, Y/n finally managed, “Rear deck....through there.”

Wordlessly, Keanu hoisted Y/n up in his arms, her legs going around his waist, taking them through a near-by door that lead them back outside. Thankfully, the little sitting area with a circular with an unlit fireplace at the center had, thus far, remained untouched.

Walking backwards, Keanu sank into one of the stark white, cushioned love seats. Clumsily, Y/n undid his pants and he raised off the seat slightly to help when she shoved them down to his knees, along with his underwear.

Y/n's dress was bunched up at her waist and Keanu's fingers were sank into her soft skin. With her forehead pressed to his, Y/n reached between them; lining him up with her drenched entrance. Then, as she sank down on his arousal, the pair moaned in unison.

"Fuck," Keanu breathed, his breath fanning her face. Y/n's warmth cocooned Keanu perfectly and he took a minute to enjoy how she felt around him before roughly commanding, "Move babygirl."

Sighing as she leaned forward, Y/n's still clothed chest was pressed to Keanu's, and she buried her face in the side of his head as she struck up a leisurely pace. Keanu breathed her scent, all champagne and expensive perfume. Her hands moved from around his neck, traveling down his chest only to slip under his t-shirt. The coldness of Y/n's fingers sent shivers up Keanu's spine as they slid up to his shoulders.

As they moved, rough but in sync, neither of them noticed that the boat had long pulled away from the dock; clear skies affording anyone on board a clear view of gorgeous Greece glittering in the distance, the lovely city leading to mountains illuminated by the moon hanging above, keeping silent watch on the miscreants below. The chill of the night went mostly unnoticed too, with their actions and proximity offered the pair an incomparable warmth.

The thin heels of Y/n's stilettos dung into Keanu's thighs, any injury only prevented by the denim barrier. Eventually, Keanu's grip on Y/n's hip tightened as he led her into a faster pace. Moving one hand, he reached between them, rubbing her throbbing cilt encouragingly. Y/n’s breath shuddered as a result the added pleasure and her nails sank deeper into the flesh at his shoulders, “Fuck Keanu,” she moaned. 

As they moved, Y/n pressed her lips his, occasionally nibbling on Keanu’s bottom lip. Soon, the tension bubbling in the lowest pits of Y/n’s stomach were at a boil and she was close to bubbling over. Her body tensed and her breathing grew heavier, “Keanu......” she whimpered, eager for release, her eyes shut tight, “I’m close.”

With a throaty growl, Keanu’s hips bucked upwards to meet Y/n’s, “Me too,” he managed through gritted teeth.

Not long after, Y/n was finally bubbling over; garbled praises punctuated by loud breaths easily falling off her lips. A gush of wet warmth spilled out of her, coating their thighs and probably parts of their clothes.

The feeling of Y/n clenching around him was enough to bring on Keanu’s release buried deep inside her; low groans contained in his throat as he kissed her again, the base of his short nails digging into her firm ass.

Their heads lopped together at the sides but before Y/n and Keanu’s breathing could start slowing while she was still in his lap, noises at the closed screen door startled them into separating, pulling and tugging at their clothes. Y/n was still adjusting the hem of the dress, when out of the screen door, lip-locked and already half undressed, stumbled Matt and Tracy. 

“What the fuck?” She exclaimed, half amused, a bit mortified, though it was mostly because Keanu was still pulling his pants up, and extremely shocked.

Springing apart; Matt’s hand left its place of Tracy’s behind and she scrambled to start re-buttoning her blouse, breathing with wide eyes, “Fuck!”

******

Tagging- @baphomentwolf666 @a-really-bi-girl​l  @paanchu786​  @harrisongslimited​

#Keanu reeves #Keanu reeves x reader #Keanu reeves x you #john wick x reader #john wick x you #Keanu reeves fanfic #Keanu reeves fanfiction #john wick fanfic #john wick fanfiction #series #lullaby #Keanu reeves series #ff #fanfic #fanfiction #chapter 7 #john wick #john wick series

[killerqueenmachine]

Yoü and I - Roger Taylor x Reader

Pairing: Roger Taylor (Late 1970's) x Reader Words: 4927 (including song lyrics)

Prompt: Lady Gaga's song "Yoü and I"

Summary:  There's something about the chase - six whole years. After a brutal heartbreak six years ago you're finally eye to eye with your long lost love. Something about just knowing when it's right - I'd rather die, without you and I.

Warnings: Slightly angsty beginning, smoking, alcohol, fluff, a bunch of swearing, SMUT; fem!dom (blink and you'll miss it), fingering, unprotected sex, breeding kink, choking. Almost on the edge of being sappy.. Wow.   Note: The lyrics for the song is written in italics. I'm imagining this fic is going on in the late late 70's. This was supposed to be short and sweet but… I've never learned to stop and I was born with a very prominent 'too-much' gene. #notevensorryaboutit __________________

It's been a long time since I came around

Been a long time but I'm back in town

And this time I'm not leaving without you

"Have you heard Queen is coming to town?"

You glanced up at your friend, who was standing right in front of you. She knew very well how you felt about Queen. That particular band - or more precisely - the drummer from that particular band had you so whipped you felt like your life had been on standby the past six years. What was meant to be an innocent summer flirt turned into the biggest heartbreak you had ever had - and it was all your fault.

"Queen…" you repeated, voice barely louder than a whisper. Slowly you shifted your eyes back to the newspaper in front of you. Out of the corner of your eye you could see her smirk. She knew exactly what was going on in your mind. You had to see him. You needed him like you needed oxygen and even if he didn't feel the same way anymore, at least you could finally get closure.

When you met Roger six years ago, the two of you instantly hit it off. He was the exact type of guy you had been looking for. Intelligent, talented and slightly crazy. All you wanted was a quick shag and he made it very clear that it would be a one-time deal. None of you managed to keep those promises and your one-night stand turned into a date and then another date and then a vacation together. He didn't have a lot of money, but your family did and even though you wanted that to be a secret, you really wanted a nice get away with him. You flew to Nebraska to stay in your aunt's cottage. She had a wonderful little place in a quiet forest somewhere deep in Nebraska. For a whole week it was just you, Roger and an unhealthy amount of alcohol and cigarettes. And condoms.

Even though the two of you never officially called yourself a couple everyone around you saw you as one. To you he was Nebraska and to him you were New York or NY, occasionally even just 'baby doll'.

The honeymoon phase of your 'relationship' ended once you got back to London and Roger found out that Queen was going on a tour in America. There was no way you could join them - not even Freddie's girlfriend Mary or John's fiancée Veronica got to join them. That quickly became the end of your love story. Forced apart, both broken hearted. Or so you thought. Barely a week after Queen had left the UK all the papers were filled with Roger's promiscuous life and how he had one woman after the other slung across his lap.

"Hello? Are you in there?" Your friend lightly knocked you on the top of your head.

"Uh, yeah.. Sorry just going through some.. Memories" you shrugged.

"Thought so. Do you wanna go see them?... See him?" she asked quietly before handing you another cup of tea.

"I suppose" your voice was cold and hard, which was very unlike you. But you needed to see him.

A few weeks later the day was upon you. Queen was in town and you were mentally preparing to either get your man back or get your heart broken once and for all. You were there early with your friend which luckily resulted in you getting to the very front. Front and on the right. The concert was amazing - of course it was. Those four men were the most talented people you had ever known and seeing all of them again made you so happy. You had forgotten how good they made you feel - just seeing them have fun on stage was enough to knock the air out of you. At one point you got eye contact with Brian who quickly recognized you and flashed a toothy smile in your direction.

As the band prepared to perform their song "'39" all of them - including Roger - moved to the front of the stage. On his way down from the drum rises, Brian grabbed on to his arm and said something in his ear, which made him look in your direction - you could only imagine, that Brian had made him aware of your presence. Finally, his eyes caught yours and you could feel your cheeks redden. His jaw almost dropped, and he seemed to forget where he was and where he was going, which Brian quickly reminded him of.

As soon as the concert ended you saw Roger run off stage and before you even had the opportunity to move away with the crowd, a security-person came and asked you to stay back, "Roger Taylor's order". You bid your friend goodbye, even though she had offered to stay. Whatever was about to happen, needed to be between you and Roger.

You taste like whiskey when you kiss me, oh

I'd give anything again to be your baby doll

This time I'm not leaving without you

Once the whole crowd had faded out, the fence was pushed apart allowing you to enter the stage area. The security person followed you back stage where you saw Brian as the first person. A light gleam of sweat covered his skin and his white button up was opened all the way down. He was the actual definition of eye candy.

"(Y/N).. Wow. It's been so long - nice to see you!" he exclaimed and pulled you in for a sweaty hug. You laughed and wrapped your arms around him, squeezing him tight. If everything with Roger went wrong today, this might be the last chance you had to do this. The hug broke apart, but Brian let his right hand rest on your shoulder as you broke apart.

"Haven't seen you in like.."

"Six years.." you finished his sentence, feeling your heart get heavy again.

He pulled you in for another hug and gently rubbed your upper back.

"Roger is waiting for you. He's in the dressing room with Freddie right now, but he'll come out once he's do-"

Just as Brian was about to tell you, Roger opened the door to the dressing room. He looked like a prince. His hair wasn't as long as it was the last time you had seen him, but he looked so handsome. Once his eyes finally met yours again nothing else mattered. Fireworks went off in your stomach and your knees went weak. He was right there.

"Roger.." his name came out as almost a plea. A soft smile tugged on the corner of his lip as he made his way over to you.

"I missed you so much" he said, barely louder than a whisper as he swept you into a tight hug.

Your feet touched, as did your knees, thighs, hips, stomachs, chests and faces. The hug couldn't be tighter even if you tried and the possibility of the two of you falling over was horrifyingly big, but none of you cared.

You stood in silence for multiple minutes while the world just continued on around you. Roger had one arm wrapped tightly around your waist and the other one around your upper torso with his hand placed on your neck. Both your arms were slung around his neck pulling his head into your neck and you felt his steady breath blow against your collarbone, before he shyly pressed his lips against the skin on your collarbone.

"Nebraska" you whined feeling tears threaten to spill from your eyes.

It wasn't on purpose, that you had used his old nickname but in the heat of this very quiet and intimate moment you almost forgot that you had been apart for six years. You felt him chuckle against your skin and for the first time in a long time your hug broke apart.

"Do you want to go out for a drink maybe?" he asked softly. Something about those six years seemed to have made him softer than you could've ever imagined, but that might just have been because he was just as overwhelmed as you were.

"Could we maybe go to my place for a drink instead? I really just want to be alone with you" you admitted, looking up at him through your eyelashes. He flashed you a smile and nodded, grabbing your hand and pulling you into his chest.

"I'll just make sure that everything is packed up and inform the guys that I'm leaving"

You nodded and ghosted your lips over his, barely touching them yet still getting the faint taste of whisky and cigarettes. He gave your hand a slight squeeze before he let you go and turned around to check up on everything.

You say sit back down where you belong

In the corner of my bar with your high heels on

Sit back down on the couch where we made love the first time

And you said to me

Less than an hour later the two of you walked through the door of your flat. Roger toed off his shoes as you locked the door and turned around to take of your stilettoes.

"Don't" he said and grabbed onto your arm. You put your foot back down and shot him a questioning look.

"I like the way they look on you" he admitted and smirked at you.

You just laughed and shook your head. If all you had to do to keep him happy was to keep your stilettoes on you would do it in a heartbeat. Your hand ran up his back as you walked past him and into your living room that had a small bar up against one of the walls. He swiftly followed you and as you sat down on one of the bar chairs, Roger went behind the bar and pulled up two glasses pouring both of you an old-fashioned whiskey, complete with ice cubes, orange twist and cocktail cherries.

"I still regret it sometimes, you know" he said, taking a fair swig of the liquid.

"Regret it?"

"The tour"

"Nebra- Roger.. You shouldn't" you didn't know what to call him. Every fibre in your body wanted to call him Nebraska. Pretend that the past six years had been a bad dream and that nothing between you had changed. All you wanted to do was to jump his bones and have another of those magical nights that you had shared in the past.

"You can call me Nebraska, you know that baby doll" he smirked, walking around the bar. He placed his free hand on your knee, pushing them apart and standing between them. His hand went from your knee all the way up your thigh before he snaked it around your hip, firmly pulling you close to him.

"I can't help but imagine what would've happened to us, if I hadn't left you. If you could've been there with me." He said, drawing small patterns on your butt with his thumb.

"We would probably be married and at the rate we were going at it, we would probably have a few kids as well" you joked, taking another sip of your whiskey.

"Don't even say that" he hissed through gritted teeth.

"We both know it's true though" you stated once again.

"Don't…" he almost begged. This really seemed to hit a soft spot in him.

"I.. I know. But look how everything worked out for you even-" He slammed his drink on the top of the bar and firmly cupped your face before crashing his lips onto yours. His fast movements took you by surprise but a quick second later you closed your eyes and melted into his touch, kissing him back with the same intensity.

He gently bit your lower lip as the kiss broke and once you opened your eyes again, a slight chuckle left your now swollen lips.

"You got a bit of my lipstick on your face there" you laughed, tracing your thumb across his red tinted bottom lip.

You downed the rest of your whiskey and just as you swallowed, Roger took your now empty glass and placed it on the table before lifting you off your chair. Instinctively you wrapped your legs arounds his waist and your arms around his neck. Both his hands rested on your ass as he walked across the floor and threw you onto your old brown leather couch.

Something about this place,

Something 'bout lonely nights

And my lipstick on your face

Something, something about my cool Nebraska guy

Yeah, there's something about, baby, you and I

You were laying on the couch while Roger stood by your side with his gaze locked on you. His blue eyes had darkened, as had the whole feel of the room. Pure passion and need seemed to beam out of his eyes. He towered over you, while slowly unbuttoning his shirt. You finally kicked off your shoes and once Roger had finally rid himself of his shirt, you reached out your arm and made a slow 'come-hither' movement at him.

"I've.. Missed this" he softly spoke. His voice was way softer than you had imagined it would be at this point.

He sat down on the edge of the couch and you scooted over and sat up to make space for him. He slid back and rested his back against the back of the couch, and you moved back over to learn your head on his shoulder.

"You know.. I missed you too. But all those stories made it seem like you had gotten well over me" You said, pressing a soft kiss to his shoulder leaving yet another soft mark of your lipstick on his skin.

"Stories?"

"Uh.. Yeah. You were kinda all over the newspapers with all your uh.. Promiscuous adventures.. As soon as you had left to go to America" you sighed, reliving the utter heartbreak you had gone through, seeing all those pictures back then.

"I didn't.. Know that those stories made it ov-"

"Oh they did. I saw the pictures"

"Oh.. Listen, I just needed a fast way to get over you and it was so easy to pick up women and I-"

"Don't.. I don't need any excuses anymore. You're here now and that's all that matters."

You quickly rid yourself of your shirt, leaving you in your skirt and bra. While leaving a trail of wet kisses on Rogers bicep and neck your slowly crawled onto his lap, softly grinding against his crotch. The lipstick marks that you had left on his skin, fired you up even more. He was finally marked as yours again. Needy whimpers left his lips as you grinded down on him a little harder.

"You like that baby?" you purred against his ear, still grinding against him. At this very moment he was at your mercy - a thing that rarely happened. He nodded quickly, moving his hands up your thighs to grab onto your hips, steading you against him.

"Mmmh, keep making those pretty little noises for me" you said with a smirk. Your voice was sultry and sensual, which clearly had a strong effect on the blonde man underneath you. You grabbed his chin with your thumb and index finger and tilted his head up, so your eyes met. You had never seen him so needy and flustered before. You ghosted your lips over his before moving your hands down his bare chest and unbuttoned his trousers.

"Don't be a tease" he warned with a fragile voice, tightening his grip on your hips. You flashed him a playful smirk before getting out of his grip and sliding off his lap. He whimpered at the loss of contact, reaching his arms out to pull you back but you managed to back away just enough to be out of his reach.

"Can you take your trousers off for me, baby?" you purred reaching underneath your skirt and pulled of your panties, waving them in front of his face before leaning down and shoving them in the front pocket of his trouser. It didn't take him more than a few seconds to fly up from the soft couch and quickly pull his trousers down, before mindlessly kicking them off.

"Oh, you've started wearing underwear? Since when?" you laughed, softly tracing a fingertip over the black fabric that covered his visible boner.

He shook his head with a light laughter, grabbing your wrists to pull you close to him again.

"I missed this so much. No one has ever made me feel the way you do" he admitted, pressing a soft kiss to your collarbone before reaching his hands around your back and unclasped your bra, pulling it down your shoulders and throwing it away.

You were both a sight for sore eyes. Almost shivering with need and anticipation, you in only your skirt and Roger in only his briefs. You laced your fingers with his, pulling him in for a kiss where neither of you touched each other’s faces. Even though it had been six years since you had seen each other, everything felt natural between you. Like it was meant to be.

"How do I make you feel, baby?" you whispered against his lips. You felt him smirk before you pulled away, gently tugging him along with you, moving to your bedroom. He followed along, silently at first, but once you squeezed his hand, egging him to answer your question, he finally spilled his guts.

"Like… Like home. You make me feel like time is standing still and…" he started as the two of you entered your bedroom. He swiftly pulled you close to him again, slamming your chests together.

"You make me feel like life has a purpose and" he sighed softly before continuing.

"I know you've read the stories about me and even though I've been with a lot of women, you're the only one that have had the ability to make me feel loved. Truly loved." he pressed a soft kiss to your nose.

"And truth be told" he said before shaking his head with a smile plastered to his lips.

"I haven't been looking for someone who loved me - or someone I could love. It's always been you and I hoped and prayed that you would be here for me once I finally grew up and realized what I had with you. You always were my baby doll"

You felt the tears prick in your eyes. With every word he said you felt yourself falling harder and harder.

"I still love you, Nebraska. I'll give anything to be your baby doll again" you said with a shaky voice.

"Let me show you just how much I love you, baby doll" his voice was raspy and strained.

Something about the chase

Six whole years

I'm a New York woman born to run you down

Still want my lipstick all over your face

Something, something about

Just knowing when it's right

Before you got the chance to answer him he roughly pushed you onto your bed and you hit it hard making you bounce. He quickly crawled over you and grabbed both your wrists, pinning them above your head using only his left hand to hold them down. You bucked your hips up against his, desperate for his touch.

"Patience, baby" he purred, placing sloppy kisses down your neck, over your collarbone and down between your breasts. His free hand went to cup one of your boobs, gently massaging it before he flicked his tongue over your nipple. The feeling of his wet tongue and warm breath sent shivers down your spine and caused a soft whimper to emerge from your lips.

"You're so beautiful and those noises of yours are heavenly" He almost sounded like he was begging, even though you didn't really know what he was begging for. He was in complete control and could do anything he wanted to at this very moment. He removed his hand from your breast and scooted off you to sit beside you instead, giving him easier access to your core, while still holding your hands pinned to the mattress.

He pushed up your skirt and didn't waste another moment before running his skilled fingers over your throbbing core. You were already so wet for him which he quickly noticed.

"Well now baby, what's going on down here" he smirked, running his fingers up and down your slit.

"Don't tease me" you moaned through your stacked breath.

"I would nev-"

"Yes, you would"

"Yeah I would"

As the last word left his lips he slid a finger into you causing you to loudly gasp and wriggle to get your hands free from his grasp, but it didn't help. His cocky smirk was glued to his face as his finger slid in and out of you, he quickly added another and started picking up his pace, curling his fingers up against your g-spot. Every time his fingers went over that soft spot within you, you moaned softly and bucked your hips, closing your eyes to focus on the feeling that was going on between your legs.

"Plea- I'm so close" you murmured.

He placed a soft kiss to your temple and pressed his thumb against your clit. A loud gasp ripped from your body as your orgasm started to flush through you Your toes and fingers curled, thighs and biceps tensed, and your hips bucked up like mad, making your back curve like never before. Rogers name left your lips like a prayer. A hot, needy prayer.

"Fuck.." Roger moaned, finally letting go of your hands and his hand flew to his crotch. A big wet spot started to show on his underwear. Your body finally relaxed again, yet your breath was out of control.

You tilted your head over to look at Roger and quickly noticed the wet spot on his underwear, which caused you to smile softly at him. The pure post-orgasm bliss ran through your veins as you lifted you hand and ran it over this thigh.

"That hasn't happened to me since I was a bloody teenager" he laughed, clearly a little embarrassed. You smiled in response and batted your eyelashes a few times.

"It's okay Roger… But I'm going to need a round two, so you better get that under control" you teased, pushing yourself up on your elbows to get closer to him.

"It's hard to control yourself when you're lying there making all those pretty noises and.. Mh" he moaned as you ran your hand over his wet underwear.

"Let's get these off you, yeah?" you asked, gently tugging on the elastic band. He softly nodded and laid on his back to pull them off. You followed his lead and finally rid yourself of your skirt as well. Finally, you were naked together. You sat cross-legged on the bed and just looked at Rogers naked form as he was laying there in front of you. He was so beautiful. A light sheen of sweat covered his chest and neck which made him look even more heavenly than he normally did.

You ran your fingers over his collarbones and down his chest, softly pinching his hips.

"I've missed this" you said, feeling like you had repeated those exact words way too many times already. He didn't respond, instead he just softly kissed your hand before sitting up across from you. You leaned forward and pressed a kiss to his lips. A kiss that quickly deepened, signalling that another round of raw pleasure was coming. You broke the kiss and rested your head on his shoulder, wrapping your arms lazily around his waist.

"Ready for round 2?" you giggled into his neck, while drawing tiny circles on his bare skin.

"You bet'cha" he laughed and leaned against you so hard that you fell back on the bed, pulling him on top of you. You looked up at his beautiful hooded blue eyes and fell in love all over again. The light from the room made it look like he had a halo.

He crashed his lips onto yours, needier and more desperate than ever. You spread your legs a little further apart making room for Roger to settle between them. His hardening cock rubbed against your sensitive core, causing you to gasp once again. Roger caught your gasp in his mouth, as he initiated another feverish make-out session.

"Condom?" he asked between the kisses. Every ounce of logic had left your body at this point and for once in your life, you couldn't care less about being safe or responsible.

"Fuck it. I want you to fucking.. Just.. Take me. Raw. I don't fucking care, Roger. Just.." you didn't manage to finish your desperate rambling before you felt him snake his hand down to line his cock up with your entrance and with a buck of his hips he bottomed out in you, causing you to scream out in pleasure. He filled you up perfectly and the quick movement took you completely by surprise - luckily he had made you plenty wet before.

"I'm so sorry, I couldn't help myself" he apologized and placed a soft kiss on your nose, not moving his hips so you could calm down a little after the very abrupt start.

"Don't apologize - fuck me.. I want you to fuck me so fucking good"

He kissed you again and started moving his hips, slowly pulling out before pushing into you again. And again, and again. His pace as so steady, clearly exposing that he was a drummer.

"I. Fucking. Love. You." he moaned with a raspy voice every time he pushed in to you.

You wrapped your arms around his back, scratching some long and severe streaks down his back. You felt your orgasm start to boil up which caused you to quickly move one of your hands down between you and Roger's sweaty bodies to apply pressure to your clit. Rogers thrusts were starting to get sloppier, but knowing that he had already cum once, you knew he would be able to hold it off for a little longer.

"I'm close, Rog" you whispered against his lips before pressing a soft kiss onto them.

"Where do you want me to cum?" he asked, starting to sound a little hoarse.

"In me.. Fuck a baby into me, Rog" Those words made him throw his head back in a desperate whine.

"Don't say that.. We're not even..-"

"We've been waiting for long enough" you almost cried out, so close to your own orgasm that you couldn't even think straight.

Roger moved his hand to your neck and gently choked you before pressing another needy kiss to your swollen lips.

And with that, your orgasm hit you like truck. You arched your back and a noise, that could only be described as a primal scream or growl left your lips. You shut your eyes and your jaw dropped, while every single muscle in your entire body tensed up and stayed that way for longer than you had ever tried before. Your walls clenched around Rogers length which was the last drop he needed to follow your lead into his own orgasm. Robe after robe of thick cum shot into you and the air filled with the sound of Roger's needy and desperate grunts and moans.

A few moments later, everything went quiet and you softly opened your eyes again, to see Roger still above you. His head was hanging down between his arms, that had miraculously managed to keep him from falling on top of you. You moved your hand up to move his hair away from his sweaty forehead before you pressed a kiss onto it.

The softest sigh left his tired body as he finally pulled out of you and fell down on his back right next to you.

It's been a long time since I came around

Been a long time, but I'm back in town

And this time I'm not leaving without you

After laying in complete silence for a few seconds, Roger managed to shove himself off the bed to go fetch something to wipe you off with. There was nothing more disgusting than sleeping in a pit of cum.

Soon enough he shuffled back into your bed and pressed a kiss to your forehead.

"I'll never leave you again, baby. Never" he whispered against your cheek.

You were almost falling asleep but seeing Roger with his after-sex glow made your eyes gain a little extra energy. You pushed him softly, so he would lay down flat on the mattress. Shortly after you pressed a kiss to his temple, cheekbone, jaw and lastly his lips.

"I surely hope not" you lightly joked before laying down. You placed your head on his chest, getting calmed down by the soft sound of his heartbeat. You wrapped your arm around his waist and moved your hips so close to him, that your pubic bone was against his hipbone. He pushed his leg between yours and finally the two of you were as entangled as physics would allow you to be. He used the arm he had under your body to draw tiny drawings on your spine, while his other hand moved over and tilted your chin up, so he could kiss you one more time.

"This time I'm not leaving without you".

#roger taylor x reader #roger taylor fanfic #roger taylor smut #roger taylor fluff #roger taylor fanfiction #fan fiction #fan fic #my work #I'm not even sorry about this

[dalimoor]

So I went to the Pokémon Center

Yesterday me and my bestie @runeandmoon​ made the journey to the pop-up Pokémon Center in London. It was one heck of an emotional journey, but it was so worth it in the end. Because of how far away we live from London, and the horror stories about the queues, we had to set off at 5AM!

Blurry car selfie because I couldn’t hold the phone straight when we were moving, but hey. I don’t think we look bad for that time of the morning!

The time was 8:48 AM. We joined the queue, absolutely stunned that we’d got there before it had started snaking outside the shopping centre. But since the shop didn’t open till 12 PM, were in for a long wait.

Tragedy! Somewhere on the Tube, the Z-Crystal on my Mimikyu ita bag had got broken. How annoying! I had to bring my ita bag, though. I am the Mimikyu Superfan. I only really wanted the giant Mimikyu plush from the Pokémon Center. Would I get my prize? Only time would tell!

Queuing was boring, but we had some great conversations with cool people in the line in front of us. These two dudes were awesome people. Thanks for making the unbearable wait less unbearable, guys!

The girl and guy here were also pretty awesome. Especially when we started to edge forward ever so slightly and it got more and more busy. The queue was closed off at 11:31 AM, a full half hour before the shop even opened. I was glad we got in before that happened!

It was around here that some guy got caught queue-jumping and was thrown out by security. Wild. All in all, the security were all pretty cool, even though they were very keen to pack us in as tightly as possible. Every time the tiniest gap opened up in front, they’d hurry us forward. One guy was like ‘c’mon, move up. Don’t you want to get into the shop?’ Too soon.

The first appearance of Dapper Pikachu! I wasn’t near enough to get a proper photo. :(

There it is! The legends were true. The first glimpse of the Pokémon Center. It’s there, waaaaay in the back of the photo, You have to squint to see it, but it’s there!

Dapper Pikachu came out again. I still wasn’t in the right place to film or photograph him properly. But check out the guy desperate for a hug! As we were getting closer to the Pokémon Center itself, we needed all the joy we could get. The tweets were coming in thick and fast of everything that they were selling out of. London Pikachu crest pins sold out within the first 20 minutes of trade. Keeping my hopes up for my Mimikyu...

Playing Pogo kept me entertained for the majority of the queuing. During the wait, I got enough coins to buy the new Mimikyu backpack which I had to own.

@runeandmoon​ was playing Pogo to pass the time, too, and got this cutie for her trouble. Lucky!

The final furlong! 3:19 PM. Just shy of seven hours later, we’d made it.

We did it! We got inside! There was still a lot of stock, but the lion’s share of the exclusive stuff had already gone. No Londonchu hoodies, socks, plushies or pins. Shelves and shelves of Ludicolo, though. Who even wants Ludicolo? We did overhear a small boy being absolutely thrilled they had Alakazam plushies, though, which was really sweet. Every Pokémon must be someone’s fav.

But to my absolute dismay, there were no giant Mimikyu plushes left on the shelf. The only ones were already in other peoples’ baskets, waiting to be purchased. The staff said they had no more. I was devastated.

I’m smiling, but I’m about to cry here. It’s crazy, but I’d been up since 4:30 AM, queued for an ungodly amount of time and seeing other people with the one thing I wanted and couldn’t have was just too much.

But then. A miracle happened. Just as I was queuing to pay, a member of staff came out of a side door. They’d just had a delivery...

MY CHILD.

I absolutely bolted out of the till queue, elbowed past the people standing around the shelf that was being re-stocked and was like ‘I’M SORRY I NEED this’. I took one from the staff member and marched back to the till with my prize held high, shouting ‘WINNER WINNER CHICKEN DINNER’ because I was so sleep-deprived and a little bit insane at this point. But look how happy I am!

The staff in the store were all really friendly and doing their absolute best to make people happy. When I initially asked about Mimikyu stock, the guy who said they had none seemed genuinely gutted I’d missed out on my chosen item. The lady who eventually served me on the till was particularly sweet and clearly loved her job. Everyone was clearly trying their best and I’m not sure how they could have done anything better with the way things have been set up. The people working there can’t control the stock deliveries or do much more to deal with the huge, huge demand. The only thing they could do is put a time limit on how long you’re allowed to browse in the store, but I suppose that would be hard to police.   

The rest of my swag! Since a lot of the Dapper Pikachu stuff had sold out I had to get other things from what I initially wanted. I did want a crest pin for myself and a plush for a friend who had missed out on when he went, but neither were there. The only had one size left of these shirts, too. I hope it fits!

#TeamScorbunny.

How could I not? Scorbunny is super duper cute.

Was it worth it? Yes. It’s really weird how I don’t feel frustrated or upset about how long I queued. I did get a little bored, but not as much as I thought I would. I’m super happy I got my Mimikyu, so I guess that made it all worth it. Would do it again? Not this particular shop during the rest of its run, but a similar one in the future, sure. Because I’m apparently insane. I’d probably book a hotel the night before so I could go queue extra-extra early.

For anyone planning on going, I have some tips:

Get there as early as you can. The queue closes off well before the shop’s official closing time, often even before the shop opens. Unless you’re starting to queue at like 1 AM and you’re first in line, you’re generally looking at at least a six hour wait to get in. Basically, if you can’t get there early to mid-morning, don’t even bother.

Go with a friend. Company makes the wait so much better. Also, chat with the people in the queue around you. They’re stuck in the same situation, they’re Pokémon fans too and are probably cool people with interesting stories.

If you need the toilet, there ones near the queuing area. If you let security know, you’re able to leave the line to use the facilities. It’s even easier if you have the aforementioned friend to more easily keep your spot in line.

Bring snacks and drinks. It’s a long wait. You can slip out of the line to buy things, but the less you have to leave the line, the better. If it moves forward when you’re not in it, it’s easy to lose track of where you were.

Bring something to keep you entertained. Games console, phone, book, whatever. Again, it’s a long wait.

Watch the Twitter feed for the shop - they give a running update on stock levels, whether the queue is still open, etc.

And that was my crazy PokéCen adventure! Now I’m going to sleep for the next 3000 years.

#pokemon #pokemon center london #london pokemon center #mimikyu #pokemon mimikyu #dapper pikachu #london pikachu #scorbunny #pokemon scorbunny #hangingwithkayru #i love my mimikyu plush #it made everything worth it

[spooky-raccoon]

Road Trip (Part 4)

Rufo the Clown x Female Reader

Part 4 to Road Trip

Tag List: @trig-loves-clowning-around @rottenhearts-and-sharpteeth @booklover2929 @the-clown-crypt @alien-rat

        A couple hours passed and after a quick dinner we finally found a cozy looking hotel that seemed to be hidden away from the world.  We gathered our bags that we’d be needing for the night and made our way inside and up to the desk.  

        “Hello.  How can I help you two?”  The lady at the desk greeted us as we came in with a pleasant smile and her eyes read that she needed some more coffee.

         “Room for two please.”  Rufo leaned onto the counter, a simple smile on his face but perfect as well.  I made the mental note to not focus on his smile so much as I felt warmth on my cheeks from blushing.

         “Seems I only have one room left.  The honeymoon suite with the plushest California King bed and a lovely hot tub with top of the line jets and a lovely bubble function.” The woman beamed as she read off the information about the room.

        “Are there no rooms left with two beds?”  I raised a brow and the lady shook her head, giving an apology.

         “That’s fine.”  Rufo waved his hand in a dismissive manner so the lady would ignore my question.  “The little lady is just nervous about our little elopement.  Her parents weren’t too happy about it.”  He chuckled as he played off a lie and slipped an arm around my waist to pull me close to his side.  “We’re on our way to go to get hitched in secret so they can’t barge in and stop true love.”

         “Well, congratulations to you too and I hope for a bright future for the both of you.”  The lady grinned as she started putting some information in the computer after Rufo handed her cash.  “We’ll send a complimentary bottle of champagne for you to celebrate along an array of desserts.”

        “That’s splendid of you.  Thank you ma’am.  We appreciate it greatly.”  Rufo tucked his wallet back into the back pocket of his pants.

         “Thank you.”  I could feel myself feeling jittery from being help by Rufo and working on playing out the lie.  

         “Let’s get up to the room then doll.  I hear a hot tub calling our name.”  Rufo winked at me as he took the key from the lady then started to lead me down the hall where the room would be.  When we got into the room I let out a breath I hadn’t realized I was keeping in.  “Don’t forget to breath.”  Rufo laughed as he set his duffle bag and my suitcase to the side.  That’s when we got a good look at the room.

        It was definitely fancy.  The large bed had a beautiful velvet burgundy bedspread and there was even a little kitchen area that led to the hot tub in the corner. There was no couch and even the usual desk was smaller than most.  There were two televisions, one above the hot tub and one in front of the bed.

        “Well, looks like we may have to share a bed for the night.”  Rufo sighed as he looked around as he realized there wouldn’t even be much room for either one of us to lay on the floor.  “If that’s alright with you doll.”

        “I, uh, yeah that’s fine.  You take a side and I’ll take the other.”  I didn’t look at him and played it off as there was a knock on the door which got my attention.

        “I’ll get that.”  Rufo walked past me and made sure it was just the hotel worker with the bottle of champagne and dessert tray.  He slipped the guy a tip and rolled in the trolley.  “Whatcha say sweetie.”  Rufo winked at me as he grinned.  God, what a perfect smile.  “We can relax with some booze; some chocolate covered strawberries and live it up a little in a hot tub.  This is supposed to be a vacation for you after all.”  

        To be honest, it did sound nice to just unwind. This was a vacation after all like he said.  We took turns using the restroom to change into swimsuits that I was thankful to have packed and I stood nervously in the bathroom as I stared at myself.  My swimsuit wasn’t anything overly revealing but the high waist shorts highlighted the curve of my hips to my waist and my top did accentuate my breasts just a little.  The ruffles on the top gave a more flouncy and carefree vintage feel to it but having someone I didn’t know too well just yet see me in a bikini still nagged at me in the back of my head.  I could hear him popping the bottle of champagne then the clinks of glasses as he got the glasses set up to pour.

       “Come on, (Y/N).  I can’t drink this bottle all by myself.  Well, I could but that wouldn’t be any fun.”  I could hear him laugh to himself through the door.

        With a deep breath I gave myself a nod in the mirror and stepped on out.  He had his back to me when I had come out and he had a simple pair of blue swim trunks on that didn’t give too much away about his thighs.  They did look rather muscular though just like his calves.  I really had to stop staring at him during this trip.  He turned to hand me my glass and I watched as his eyes gave me a long look over, eyeing certain parts and I could feel my face heating up as I took the glass he offered me.  He had even gotten the hot tub ready which I gestured at.

        “Come on, Rufo.  Let’s get in and relax a little.”  I chuckled, playing off my nerves as I stepped into the water.

        “You look rather nice, (Y/N).”  He said matter-of-factly as he scooted the trolley over so we could easily reach the desserts.  He soon slipped into the water and found one of the seats in the hot tub.

        “I, uh, thank you, Rufo.”  I had remembered our little conversation from a couple days ago and kept any negative words to myself which he seemed pleased at.  He found the remote for the television and flipped through the channels and stopped on reruns of Cops.

        “Hope ya don’t mind doll.  It’s one of the few shows I don’t mind these days.”  Rufo leaned back in the seat and was sipping at his wine, grabbing a strawberry to eat.

        “Don’t mind at all Rufo.”  I took a strawberry for myself and I didn’t notice the way Rufo watched me as I ate it.

         Glasses were refilled a few times here and there; laughs were shared and soon the tray and bottle were both empty.  We were both pretty tipsy and making silly comments at the people being arrested on the show.  He had even scooted closer as we pointed and laughed.  Overall, I felt great.  Though it came time for bed as it was nearing midnight, and he helped me get out of the hot tub even if he was a little wobbly on his own legs as well. He was surprisingly strong for his frame as he picked me up out of it with such ease.  Though with the alcohol in me it maybe helped that I was more like a poseable ragdoll.  He even grabbed my sleeping clothes for me and guided me in the direction to the bathroom so I could change.  It took a little bit longer this time to dry off and change but I managed and came back out to see he was adjusting his pajama pants, guessing he had just put them on.

         “Come on doll.  Let’s get you to bed.  You drank quite a bit.”  He walked over to me, taking a few missteps here and there but he got me in the direction of the bed which I flopped on.  “That’s one way of doing it.”  He chuckled as he got in beside me.

        “Mmm Rufo?”  I rolled over, getting into a comfy spot.  He was grabbing the remote to put Cops back on the television in front of the bed.

         “Yes doll?”  He raised his brow, not looking at me as he looked for the right channel.

         “You’re very handsome.  Like, you have such pretty majestic flowing hair and a killer smile.  Like. Wow.  I just wanted you to know that.  Very stunning man.”  In my tipsy state I was a bit braver and words came out more freely than I would have liked.  A lot of the times I wish I wasn’t as brave but when the words came out of my lips I couldn’t stop that.

        “I, uh.”  This time Rufo was the one to stumble of this words and I swear I saw his cheeks blush up just a little bit.  “I’m just an old man (Y/N).  I’m nothing special.”  That’s when my brow furrowed, and I let out a loud enough huff that made him turn around with such a surprised look on his face.

         “Now you listen to me, mister.”  It took some effort to sit up and keep myself up, but I managed.  “So long as I am around you, you are not allowed to think bad about yourself.  Got it mister?”  I pointed a finger at him and before I could get an answer from him I flopped back down.  “Ain’t having such a handsome man with the most perfect damn smile I’ve ever seen in my whole little life put himself down.  That would just be ridiculous.  Fucking…. Ridiculous and so dumb.  So dumb.”  I propped myself up on an elbow, Rufo’s mouth was open to speak but I cut him off as more words just came out.  I didn’t even try to mentally stop myself at this point.  “I’d kill to have a man like you in my town that I could swoon over and hope I catch his attention.  Six foot something handsome son of a gun with a jaw sharp enough to cut a man with eyes so stunningly piercing to finish the job.  God damn, you have some stunning eyes.  Could get lose swimming in them or something like that.”  I somehow managed to run a hand through my hair despite my limb not feeling like it was all there.  I pointed at him again.  “Kill I say.” Another flop and I was back down. I could hear him chuckle.  “Don’t you dare laugh at me.  I’m being very, very, very serious right now.  So serious.  Like, you wouldn’t believe how fucking serious I am in this exact moment in time.”

         “Language doll.  And oh, I know you are.  I’ve seen the way you’ve stared at me.  I’ve got a keen eye.  Seen the way your cheeks get all pink and rosy if you stare at me too long and I catch ya.”  He slipped under the covers and I rolled onto my side to stare at him the best I could in the darkness of the room.  Thankfully the television helped illuminate where he was though he was a little fuzzy around the edges.  “But you wouldn’t want to get mixed up with the likes of me.”

         “Stop that.  I would say the same damn thing about myself.  I’m not a fun person.  I work all day at a dumb desk and you.  You get to go all around the world and see such pretty sights and see cool things.” He had rolled over now and I put a finger on his hairy chest.  “Kill, I say.”

        “You’d probably change your mind doll if you knew any better.”  He chuckled and shook his head.  “But I promise not to put myself down anymore as long as you’re around.  Pinky promise.”  He held out his pinky and I took it in mine.  It took a few tries, but I got it.  “Can’t have you coming after me all said and done.”  He grinned and soon his eyes closed so he could sleep.

        I followed suit but I woke up in the middle of the night after a worse nightmare than usual to find myself cuddled up to him. He had rolled onto his back at some point and here I was curled up to his side.  I was still feeling slightly buzzed, but I could see he was awake and paying attention to the show that was barely audible.  My heart thudded in my chest and my eyes widened as I realized it was his arm around me that I felt with his hand clasped on my shoulder.

         “Go back to sleep doll.  I’m just having trouble sleeping is all.”  He hadn’t even looked at me or away from the television.

         “I… I’m sorry, Rufo.”  I muttered and my face heated up in embarrassment and knowing I was in his arms.  I went to wiggle but his fingertips dug into my shoulder and I got the hint to stay put.

        “Just get some rest.”  He now turned his head to me, and I swear his eyes were almost glowing.  It was probably just the light from the television though.

          I nodded and closed my eyes again.  In my half-asleep state, I rolled over in his arms with a few seconds later he followed suit to spoon me with an arm under the pillows and his other arm draped over my side.  I fell back asleep to the sound of his snores softly going behind my ear. It was probably the best sleep I had ever had in a long time.

#rufo #rufo the clown #more love for rufo #rufo: road trip #rufo: road trip part 4 #rufo fanfic #rufo fanfiction #rufo the clown fanfic #rufo the clown fanfiction

[hesa-tramp]

that’s TRUMAN TSAI walking down the street, the TWENTY-SIX-year-old, who looks like JORDAN CONNOR. here in apple peak, they are the OWNER OF ONE MANS JUNK. some say he acts like TRAMP from LADY AND THE TRAMP since he can be CHARMING but also a little bit RECKLESS.

here i am, once again!!! lol hi guys it’s alyssa here again with my chaotic boi truman (idk maybe i’ll call him tru? kinda love it tbh)

BACKGROUND:

tru has no memory or any knowledge of his biological family, he was named and brought home by them when he was born, but not even a week later they had dropped him off at a fire station safe haven with no information but a note that read: truman matthew. we’re sorry.

his surname tsai is an assumed name 

he bounced around from foster family, to group home, to foster family, to group home for the entirety of his childhood, never finding anything that fit 

he never allowed himself to stay in one home for too long

when he aged out of the system at eighteen he found himself the most alone and lost he’d ever been, and yet the happiest he’d ever felt

he had nowhere to go and lived out of a duffle bag for months with the limited cash he had from odd jobs he’d done

tru didn’t know where he was headed when he started taking rides from truckers eastbound, but he found himself in maine and drawn to apple peak

he was nineteen by the time he arrived, and though he still had nowhere to live, he decided to stay in town

he was flitting between park benches for the night and working at granny’s diner during the day until he had enough money to get a small apartment with someone

***this would be a great former roommate connection if someone is down!

since then things have obviously changed, and tru eventually moved out on his own and started a whole ass business that he was excited for 

he loves one mans junk tbh even when he doesn’t need to be there, he is.

PERSONALITY

tbh definition of chaotic neutral

very good guy, but my god is he reckless

buuuut he knows he can get away with almost anything with most people with a smirk and a good line

super protective over his little pack of people, which stems from group homes where he’d try and take care of the younger kids as much as he could before he left

***also would be down for these connections

CONNECTIONS

former roommates

his small pack mates

employees

drinking buddy

chaotic bros™️

#curse:intro #ꜰᴏᴏᴛʟᴏᴏꜱᴇ ᴀɴᴅ ᴄᴏʟʟᴀʀ ꜰʀᴇᴇ ➢ musings

[samwrights]

The Game // [1]

Summary: Tom Holland, Harrison Osterfield, and Jacob Batalon started a game back when they first began filming Spider-Man: Homecoming—to sleep with as many different extras as possible before the movie premiered. Their current targets are the ladies of the band Navy Skies, a ragtag group of young adults that were blessed with the opportunity to play in the homecoming dance scene. Fed up with the boys’ sick game, Laura and Zendaya are taking bets on who gets their heart broken first.

Pairing: fuckboy!Tom x OC, fuckboy!Harrison x OC, fuckboy!Jacob x OC, hints of TomDaya

Words: 2643

Inspo: Kick It // Neck Deep

Disclaimer: Lyric graphics were created by me, y’all. I’m not saying don’t steal it cause they’re not that impressive tbh but like don’t steal them.

Life was a pretty simple concept. Some people really wanted to complicate things and find deeper meanings within it, but at the end of the day, all there really was to it was to ensure you were living your best life. Dream big, work hard, and don’t allow anybody to take that from you. At least, this was the mentality that Cameron Lucia had adopted at a young age. She never let things like friends and family keep her planted in one spot. If they were truly family, they would never hold Cam back from chasing her dreams.

Or best case scenario, they came with her wherever she went; entirely inspired from her nomadic, carefree spirit. That was the situation she was currently in, anyway. At the ripe age of twenty four, Cameron and three of her closest friends she had met at her day job ended up packing up with her and moving out of state. It wasn’t that far fetched, or so she believed. The four of them had formed a band on top of their friendship and collectively decided they were going to move closer towards the music scene in Nashville, Tennessee in hopes of getting their big break. But after long debates about cost of living and not wanting to lose their city charm, the four of them settled on living in a northern suburb just outside of Atlanta.

The four of them had been living in their spacious, two bedroom apartment for the last six months and were still loving every second of it. Cameron always thought it was funny that people assumed they would be tearing out each others hair being in a band, living, and working together. With all of their different personality harmonizing, she knew they would prove everybody wrong.

The youngest of the group was Malachi, or Mac as he preferred, was freshly twenty one. Though lazy, he was the star socialite of the bunch. His charisma made their lives easier when it came to booking shows and just being the go-to person to have a one on one talk with. Ruby was the second youngest, but also held a very mature composure due to growing up way too soon—taking on the role of ‘Momma Bear’. Her incredible work ethic helped put all of Cameron’s dreams into motion. Danielle, or Dani, was a mere week younger than Cam and always focused on getting shit done, but they never held her back from being the life of the party. Cam was clearly the dreamer—always comping up or collaborating with her group of friends on proposing new insane schemes.

Together they supported each other in any which way they could, whether it be financially or trying to rationalize whatever impossible dream came to Cameron’s mind. They always started off crazy, like when she started booking their band at every single bar that she could possibly find in downtown Atlanta. They always ended up working out in mysterious ways, like when booking agents and producers wanted to feature Navy Skies in an upcoming unknown film right here in Atlanta. They couldn’t pass the opportunity up.

That chance brought them to where they were today, sitting in make up getting their hair done for their brief cameo on this unknown film project. Cam, Ruby, and Dani did their own make up at their own request. Since Mac had a buzz cut and the girls were only getting their hair done, he took the liberty to get his make up done, enjoying getting pampered with the miniscule amount of make up they gave him. “It feels like a facial that I so desperately need.” He laughed, causing his friends to laugh with him.

The band was called to set, and they followed a stagehand down the hallway of the school they were filming in, and entered the gymnasium. Heads turned upon the group entering—everybody was dressed in semi-formal attire while a banner that read ‘Homecoming’ hung behind the stage. That explained why the outfit selection they were all given were all dresses and dress pants.

“So for you guys, we don’t need anything super directive.” The stagehand said. “Think of this as a recording session, we’ll ring an alarm when we need you to kill the sound completely.” He explained that the amplifiers were going to be kept to a minimum; just loud enough to be ambient noise but not enough to overpower any dialogue. They were only required to do a half hour set, and none of the band mates didn’t have to talk throughout the set as they normally would have for a show.

“Okay, cool. Let’s get set up.” Said Ruby as they got on stage and unloaded their instruments. Cam set up all the microphones while Dani assembled her drum kit, and Mac and Ruby tuned their bass and guitars respectively. The gymnasium was packed with unknown people pretending to be students. If anyone would have known any of them, it would have been Malachi. But the only one he had recognized in the crowd was Zendaya, which was enough to leave Mac the slightest bit starstruck.

The experience was actually pretty cool and almost felt like a real show to the band. The fake students bopped along and some even danced with each other. When cameras weren’t zoomed in on actors, whom Navy Skies assumed to be major characters of the film, said actors were dancing amongst themselves and just being goofy. Zendaya was swinging along with the people she had grown close to over the duration of them film—Harrison, Jacob, and Laura. “Hey, these guys are pretty good.” Z said as she danced with Harrison. The students in the crowd were yelling along and cheering on the band, nearly forgetting they were extras in a film. Jacob and Harrison were no exceptions to Navy Skies’ hypnotism as they paused their movements for a brief moment. Jacob nudged Harrison, a knowing look in his eyes with a devilish smirk on his lips.

“Who you calling dibs on, mate?” Haz asked, reciprocating his friends now wicked features.

“I like the little blonde one on drums.”

“Perfect, I’m digging the guitarist.” He said, staring at the girl with a curly pixie cut. Harrison’s eyes were immediately drawn to the tattoos that covered both arms from shoulder to wrist. Zendaya and Laura rolled both of their eyes.

“Are you guys playing your stupid game again?” Laura asked. The boys just grinned in affirmation. See, since the beginning of the filming Spider-Man: Homecoming, Jacob, Harrison, and Tom started an unnamed game to see which of them could sleep with the most extras from the set. Right now, Harrison was the front runner, despite being an extra himself.

“I’m going to laugh so hard when this stupid game blows up in your face.” Zendaya sneered, a sly grin on her face at the mere thought.

“How do you figure?” Jacob asked. “They’re extras, they’re here for like a day and then it’s like it never even happened.”

“One of you guys are going to fall for your flings, and then she’s going to find out she was just a part of some stupid game and hopefully she puts your asses in place.” Laura added, taking a firm stance with Zendaya that what they were doing was wrong on so many levels. “You guys need a reality check.”

“Nah, that won’t happen.” Both Harrison and Jacob said in unison, their eyes focused on their targets. No, it wouldn’t happen.

Navy skies finished their half hour set with the alarm buzzing within in the gymnasium, signaling that sounded needed to cease. After setting down their instruments, the band mates took a seat off the edge of their stage, taking a drink from the water bottles provided from the film crew. Each of them were panting slightly, covered in a thin film of sweat from having to continuously perform. “I think we sounded pretty great.” Cam said as she tried to catch her breath. The band talked amongst themselves, only pausing when they noticed the same stagehand from before walking up to them. Behind him stood Zendaya and the people she was dancing with earlier in the scene, plus one more that none of them recognized.

“Hey guys, everything sounded amazing! But the cast was wondering if you could play an encore show? We’ll make it worth your while.”

“Keep talkin’.” Dani said, immediately switching to hardball mode despite being the smallest member of the band.

“We were thinking of tossing you guys an extra grand?”

“What?! Hell yes!” Mac screeched before the band could discuss it. Which, in any other circumstance would have angered the girls, it weren’t for the fact that they just earned five grand off of a show that didn’t require them to put a down payment for the venue. There was no argument to even be had.

“I guess that’s a yes.” Cam laughed. “But can we get a couple minutes to cool off?”

“Oh yes, of course. Take a breather, you guys can go change back into your street clothes if you want. I’ll let you guys know when you go on and you can treat it like a real show this time—no cameras.” The stagehand walked away, leaving the band to head off in the direction of the dressing room they had used earlier to change back into more comfortable clothes.

While the cast waited by the stage, Harrison and Jacob got Tom up to speed, letting him know who claimed who so far. “I guess that leaves me with the singer, is it?” He asked, staring at the girl with incredibly long brunette hair as the band returned to the gymnasium. Even in a simple baseball tee and ripped jean shorts, the front woman’s tattoos were the most noticeable features about her. They covered every visible inch of her arms and hands, even up her neck. He wondered what other parts of her body were tattooed. Tom, unfortunately, had been filming a different scene and didn’t get to see the band play. But judging from Harrison and Jacob’s infatuation with them, they must have left some kind of impression. With a couple of strings being pulled, Tom was able to get them to put on an encore show.

The band returned to the stage, trading in their dresses for ripped jeans and solid tees and looking much more relaxed. The cast walked up towards the stage, Zendaya being the first to break the ice and introduced herself to the band. “Hey, guys. We just wanted to say how much we all loved hearing you guys play and hope you don’t mind that we asked the film crew to have you guys play an encore.” She said, gesturing to herself and Laura and the boys. “I’m Zendaya, and this is Laura.”

“Oh, party. Mac, I’m the bassist.” The only male member shook both of the ladies’ hands firmly.

“Ruby, guitar.” She gave a slight wave to everyone. Harrison’s mouth twitched with the slightest smile as his target introduced herself.

“Dani, drums.” The petite blonde gave an awkward wave.

“And I’m Cameron.” One by one, the boys learned their prey’s names. It was officially game on now.

“I’m Tom, lovely to meet you, darling. I play Spider-Man.” He held his hand out to Cam, awaiting for her to shake it. Instead, the band all looked at each other before letting out a collective laugh. Tom looked at them confusedly, retracting his still empty hand. “What’s so funny?”

“We’ve been trying to figure out what movie we were going to be in for the last month.” Ruby said, still chuckling. The collective group shared a laugh briefly. As they waited around for the encore show to start, the group chatted amongst themselves, the boys buttering up their marks while Mac, Z, and Laura hung out.

“So, Spider-Man, is it?” Cam asked, her natural teasing tone coming through as she spoke to Tom.  “How did you land that role?” He laughed, answering with charm that he usually reserved for interviews. Cam was nodding along, showing she was listening.

“How long have you lot been in a band?” Tom fired back, his British accent resurfacing as he pulled himself out of character for the day. He knew he needed to keep his questions as innocent as possible to earn the trust of his prey before he could corner her and go in for the kill. Though she had answered, he hadn’t quite heard it due to focusing on his own thoughts more than their conversation.

The stagehand came back, clipboard in hand along with four sealed envelopes that he distributed to each of them. “You all ready to go?” He asked, looking at Navy Skies. They all nodded before hopping back up from their seats on the stage, getting ready for round two. By now, all of the actors, main crew and extras, gathered around.

“Ready guys?” Cam asked into the microphone while looking at her band mates.

“Let’s kick it!” Malachi enthused, signaling their start to a newer alternative set list that they had been working on in recent months. Cheers amongst the crowd erupted as heavy, fast paced chords blared along the amplifiers—this time at full volume. The cast took immediate notice to their stage presence, seeing how Mac and Ruby were in six with little head bangs as Cameron walked the length of the stage. She crouching real low to be face to face with the front row that was made up of Laura, Harrison, Jacob, Zendaya, and Tom before walking up beside Ruby. As she wrapped an arm around her guitarist, harmonizing their siren song as they sang out their next verse.

Cameron took back center stage, opening her arms wide while her bassist and guitarist joined in for the last line. The final words lingered before rapidly moving onto their next song. It was no help that Zendaya and Laura were looking at the boys, each of them unknowingly jumping along to foreshadowing words.

“Do you think they’ve realized?” Laura asked, yelling into her friends ear to be heard over the music. Zendaya shook her head.

“Definitely not. These girls don’t even know them and they’re calling their shit out.”

“Wanna make a little wager?” Zendaya raised her eyebrows, giving Laura an intrigued smile. “I’m betting all of them are going to fall for their targets. Whoever loses has to be the one to tell the girls they’re just another name to add to their list.”

“I’m betting Harrison falls for his.” She replied with a deep set smirk on her lips. Honestly, it didn’t really matter who won this bet—Z was just excited to see someone break it to them that they couldn’t just run around doing this to poor, unsuspecting girls. They had learned to tune out Laura and herself after the game had been established.

“Harrison? He’s the one winning their stupid thing!” Laura said in disbelief.

“Well, let’s get real, Jacob’s girl seems like she would only go for a one night stand.” At Zendaya’s statement, their eyes turned to the drummer. “And I could see Harrison falling for a girl like her. He’s the only one who’s got a real chance of being heartbroken.” She said, discreetly pointing to Ruby.

“What about Tom?” Laura asked.

“Please, Tom may be a participant in this silly game, but he’s in dead last and he would never fall for a girl like that.” There was the slightest sneer in Z’s tone as they glanced at the lead singer. “Besides, we all know I’m the one he falls asleep with at night.”

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