#This man will be turning on a radio for 40 years and still be hearing songs about himself
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Songs Moz says he wrote about Johnny:
-Angel, Angel Down We Go Together
Meanwhile, all the songs that I think are actually about Johnny, or in some way referring to him:
-Hand In Glove (1983)
-No, it's not like any other love. This one is different, because it's us.
-So, hand in glove I stake my claim. I'll fight to the last breath. If they dare touch a hair on your head, I'll fight to the last breath. For the good life is out there somewhere. So stay on my arm, you little charmer, but I know my luck too well. Yes, I know my luck too well. And I'll probably never see you again.
-Reel Around The Fountain (1983)
-Fifteen minutes with you. Well, I wouldn't say no. Oh, people said that you were virtually dead, and they were so wrong.
-I dreamt about you last night, and I fell out of bed twice. You can pin and mount me like a butterfly, but, "Take me to the haven of your bed" was something that you never said. Two lumps, please. You're the bee's knees but so am I.
-What Difference Does It Make? (1982)
-All men have secrets and here is mine. So let it be known. For we have been through hell and high tide. I think I can rely on you, and yet you start to recoil. Heavy words are so lightly thrown, but still I'd leap in front of a flying bullet for you.
-But now you know the truth about me. You won't see me anymore. Well, I'm still fond of you.
-But I'm still fond of you. Oh, my sacred one.
-Miserable Lie (Linder/Johnny) (1982)
-I know I need hardly say how much I love your casual way. Oh, but please put your tongue away. A little higher and we're well away. The dark nights are drawing in, and your humor is as black as them. I look at yours, you laugh at mine, and "love" is just a miserable lie. You have destroyed my flower-like life. Not once - twice. You have corrupt my innocent mind. Not once - twice.
-This Charming Man (1983)
-When in this charming car. This charming man.
-Why pamper life's complexity when the leather runs smooth on the passenger seat?
-This man said, "It's gruesome that someone so handsome should care."
-These Things Take Time (1982)
-Mine eyes have seen the glory of the sacred wunderkind.
-But I can't believe that you'd ever care, and this is why you will never care.
-I'm spellbound, but a woman divides, and the hills are alive with celibate cries. But you know where you came from, you know where you're going, and you know where you belong. You said I was ill and you were not wrong.
-The alcoholic afternoons when we sat in your room - they meant more to me than any than any living thing on earth. It had more worth than any living thing on earth. Vivid and in your prime. You will leave me behind.
-Handsome Devil (1982)
-You ask me the time, but I sense something more. And I would like to give what I think you're asking for.
-You handsome devil. Oh, you handsome devil. Let me get my hands on your mammary glands, and let me get your head on the conjugal bed.
-I crack the whip, and you skip, but you deserve it. And when we're in your scholarly room, who will swallow whom?
-Please Please Please Let Me Get What I Want (1984)
-So for once in my life let me get what I want. Lord knows it would be the last time.
-That Joke Isn't Funny Anymore (1984)
-Park the car at the side of the road. You should know time's tide will smother you - and I will too. When you laugh about people who feel so very lonely their only desire is to die - well, I'm afraid it doesn't make me smile.
-It was dark as I drove the point home, and on cold leather seats - well, it suddenly struck me. I just might die with a smile on my face after all.
-Well I Wonder (1983/1984)
-Do you hear me when you sleep? I hoarsely cry.
-Do you see me when we pass? I half-die.
-Please keep me in mind.
-I Know It's Over (1985)
-I know it's over - still I cling. I don't know where else I can go
-Sad veiled bride, please be happy. Handsome groom, give her room. Loud, loutish lover, treat her kindly. Though she needs you more than she loves you.
-I know it's over, and it never really began, but in my heart it was so real. And you even spoke to me, and said: "If you're so funny then why are you on your own tonight? And if you're so clever then why are you on your own tonight? If you're so very entertaining then why are you on your own tonight? If you're so very good-looking why do you sleep alone tonight?"
-Love is natural and real, but not for you, my love. Not tonight, my love. Love is natural and real, but not for such as you and I, my love.
-Never Had No One Ever (1985)
-Now I'm outside your house - I'm alone. And I'm outside your house. I hate to intrude.
-The Boy with the Thorn in His Side (1985)
-How can they look into my eyes, and still they don't believe me? How can they hear me say those words - still they don't believe me? And if they don't believe me now will they ever believe me?
-How can they see the love in our eyes, and still they don't believe us? And after all this time they don't want to believe us. And if they don't believe us now will they ever believe us?
-There Is a Light That Never Goes Out (1985)
-Driving in your car. I never, never want to go home. Because I haven't got one anymore.
-Driving in your car. Please don't drop me home.
-And if a double-decker bus crashes into us - to die by your side is such a heavenly way to die. And if a ten ton truck kills the both of us - to die by your side...well, the pleasure, the privilege is mine.
-Take me out tonight. Take me anywhere, I don't care. And in the darkened underpass I thought, "Oh God, my chance has come at last." But then a strange fear gripped me, and I just couldn't ask.
-Stretch Out and Wait (1985)
-All the lies that you make up...what's at the back of your mind? Your face I can see, and it's desperately kind - but what's at the back of your mind?
-Amid concrete and clay, and general decay, nature must still find a way. So ignore all the codes of the day. Let your juvenile impulses sway...God, how sex implores you to let yourself lose yourself.
-Stretch out and wait. Let your puny body lie down. As we lie, you say...stretch out and...
-Shakespeare's Sister (1985)
-But I'm going to meet the one I love. So, please don't stand in my way, because I'm going to meet the one I love.
-I can smile about it now, but at the time it was terrible.
-Sweet and Tender Hooligan (1986)
-He said that he'd never, never do it again, and of course he won't - not until the next time.
-Would you look into those motherly eyes? I love you for you, my love, you, my love.
-Is It Really So Strange? (1986)
-And I can't help the way I feel. You can kick me, and you can punch me, and you can break my face, but you won't change the way I feel. 'Cause I love you.
-Is it really so strange? I say no, you say yes - and you will change your mind.
-London (1986)
-Smoke lingers 'round your fingers. Train a-heave on to Euston. Do you think you've made the right decision this time?
-You left your girlfriend on the platform with this really ragged notion that you'll return, but she knows that when he goes, he really goes. And do you think you've made the right decision this time?
-Ask (1986)
-So if there's something you'd like to try...Ask me, I won't say no, how could I?
-Because if it's not love then it's the bomb...that will bring us together
-Nature is a language, can't you read?
-I Started Something I Couldn't Finish (1987)
-The lanes were silent. There was nothing, no one, nothing around for miles. I doused our friendly venture with a hard-faced, three-word gesture.
-I started something, I forced you to a zone - and you were clearly never meant to go. Hair brushed and parted, typical me...I started something, and now I'm not too sure.
-I grabbed you by guilded beams. That's what tradition means. And I doused another venture with a gesture that was absolutely vile.
-Stop Me If You Think You've Heard This One Before (1987)
-Nothing's changed. I still love you, oh, I still love you...only slightly, only slightly less than I used to, my love.
-Who said I'd lied to her? Who said I'd lied, because I never...
-Last Night I Dreamt That Somebody Loved Me (1987)
-Last night I dreamt that somebody loved me. No hope, no harm. Just another false alarm.
-Last night I felt real arms around me. No hope, no harm. Just another false alarm.
-I Won't Share You (1987)
-I won't share you, no. I won't share you. With the drive and ambition. The zeal I feel, this is my time.
-Life tends to come and go. That's okay...as long as you know.
-I'll see you somewhere. I'll see you sometime, darling.
-I Keep Mine Hidden (1987)
-Hate, love and war force emotions to the fore, but not for me of course, of course. I keep mine hidden.
-But it's so easy for you...because you let yours flail into public view.
-The lies are so easy for you, because you let yours slide into public view.
-Alsatian Cousin (1987)
-Were you and he lovers? And would you say so if you were?
-A note upon his desk. "P.S. Bring Me Home And Have Me!" Leather elbows on a tweed coat -is that the best you can do? So came his reply: "But on the desk is where I want you."
-Angel, Angel Down We Go Together (1987)
-Angel, angel. Don't take your life tonight. I know they take, and that they take in turn. And they give you nothing real for yourself in return, but when they've used you and they've broken you, and wasted all your money, and cast your shell aside - and when they've bought you and they've sold you, and they've billed you for the pleasure, and they've made your parents cry. I will be here, oh, believe me. I will be here, believe me. Angel, don't take your life. Some people have got no pride. They do not understand the urgency of life. But I love you more than life
-Late Night, Maudlin Street (1987)
-Love at first sight. May sound trite, but it's true, you know. I could list the details of everything you ever wore, or said, or how you stood that day.
-Truly I do love you. Oh, truly I do love you.
-When I sleep with that picture of you framed beside my bed...Oh, it's childish and it's silly, but I think it's you in my room by the bed. Yes, I told you it was silly, and I know I took strange pills, but I never meant to hurt you. Oh, truly I love you.
-The last bus I missed to Maudlin Street. So, he drove me home in the van, complaining, "Women only like me for my mind..."
-And so we crept through the park. No, I cannot steal a pair of jeans off a clothesline for you...but you without clothes. Oh, I could not keep a straight face. Me, without clothes? Well, a nation turns its back and gags.
-Oh, truly I do love you...wherever you are.
-Suedehead (1987)
-Why do you come here? And why, why do you hang around? I'm so sorry...Why do you come here when you know it makes things hard for me? ...Why do you telephone? And why send me silly notes? I'm so sorry.
-You had to sneak into my room just to read my diary. "It was just to see, just to see." All the things you knew I'd written about you. Oh, so many illustrations. But I'm so very sickened. I am so sickened now...Oh, it was a good lay, good lay.
-Break Up the Family (1987)
-The strange logic in your clumsiest line - it stayed emblazoned on my mind. You say, break up the family, and let's begin to live our lives.
-Yes, you found love, but you weren't at peace with your life. Home late, full of hate. Despise the ties that bind.
-I Don't Mind If You Forget Me (1987)
-I don't mind - I don't mind if you forget me.
-So now you send me your hardened 'regards' when once you'd send me 'Love.' Sincerely I must tell you your mild 'best wishes' - they make me suspicious.
-The pressure to change, to move on was strange, and very strong. So this is why I tell you - I really do understand. Bye bye.
-Rejection is one thing, but rejection from a fool is cruel.
-I Know Very Well How I Got My Name (1987)
-A child in a curious phase. A man with sullen ways. I know very well how I got my name. You think you were my first love. You think you were my first love, but you're wrong. You were the only one. Who's come and gone.
-Treat Me Like a Human Being (1987)
-It's hard, but try...for once, just for once...Leave all your hate behind you. It's still all so strange and obscene for you to look and see one who is real and who feels life.
-Three words could change my life. So once, just for once...let the night pass with ease, son. Treat me like a human being. I'd like to know how this feels.
-Three words could change my life, yet you treat me like you never care.
-Happy Lovers at Last United (1988)
-Happy lovers, back together, and I do feel proud. Happy lovers, reunited, and I do feel proud now. I'm not the type to boast as you know, though it was me who brought them back together. He is so kind, and she is so clever, but they don't want me now, hanging around.
-I rang to her to explain of how he really wants to see you again. I said more or less the same thing to him too, which wasn't true. And now they walk, hand in hand, all is planned, by the silent glance I believe, that only lovers share. And I'm proud to have done something good for once. And she is so kind, and he's so clever, but they don't need me now, hanging around.
-Will Never Marry (1988)
-For whether you stay, or you stray, an inbuilt guilt that catches up with you - and as it comes around to your place at 5 a.m., wakes you up, and it laughs in your face.
-He Knows I'd Love to See Him (1989)
-He knows, he knows, or...I think he does. 'Cause when I lived in the arse of the world...he knows, he knows. He knows I'd love to see him happy, or as close as is allowed.
-Oh, my name still conjures up deadly deeds, and a bad taste in the mouth.
-He doesn't know ...
-Yes, I Am Blind (1989)
-Love's young dream. I'm the one who shocked you. I'm the one who stopped you, 'cause in my sorry way I love you.
-Love's young dream...aren't you sorry for what you've done? Well, you're not the only one, and in my sorry way I love you.
-Yes, I am blind, but I do see evil people prosper over the likes of you and me always.
-Oh Phoney (1989)
-May this lovely letter reach its destination...if only. Question one is why do you pretend that you like me? Oh Phoney. See how the outside contradicts what's inside.
-Who can make Hitler seem like a bus conductor? You do, oh Phoney you do. You sing a lovely song to a scale, and the words spell out my name. Oh Phoney. But then you kick me down below, 'cause you know it won't show. How could you?
-King Leer (1990)
-Your boyfriend, he went down on one knee...Well, could it be he's only got one knee?
-Your boyfriend, he has the gift of the gab, or, could it be...the gift of the grab?
-Your boyfriend, he has displayed to me more than just a real hint of cruelty.
-Found Found Found (1990)
-Found, found, found...someone who's worth it in this murkiness. Someone who's never seeming to be scheming...(Oh, but if I'd never found)...I do believe that the more you give your love, and I do believe that the more you give your trust...the more you're bound to lose. (Oh, but if I'd never found)...Somebody who wants to be who wants to be with me...all the time.
-The Loop (1990)
-I just want to say I haven't been away. I'm still right here, where I always was. So one day, if you're bored by all means call. Because you can do...but only if you want to. I just want to say I haven't been away. I am still right here, where I always was. So one day, when you're bored by all means call. Because you can do...but you might not get through.
-Seasick, Yet Still Docked (1992)
-Wish I knew the way to reach the one I love. There is no way. Wish I had the charm to attract the one I love, but you see, I've got no charm.
-Tonight I've consumed much more than I can hold. Oh, this is very clear to you. And you can tell I have never really loved. You can tell by the way I sleep all day, and all of my life no one gave me anything...My love is as sharp as a needle in your eye. You must be such a fool to pass me by.
-I Know It's Gonna Happen Someday (1992)
-My love, wherever you are, whatever you are - don't lose faith. I know it's gonna happen someday to you. Please wait...
-You say that the day just never arrives, and it's never seemed so far away. Still, I know it's gonna happen someday to you.
-Tomorrow (1992)
-All I ask of you is one thing that you never do - would you put your arms around me? I won't tell anyone. Tomorrow...does it have to come?
- And what must come before. Oh, the pain in my arms. Oh, the pain in my legs. Oh, my shiftless body. Tomorrow. It's surely nearer now. You don't think I'll make it. I never said I wanted to - well, did I?
-All I ask of you is would you tell me that you love me. Tell me, tell me that you love me. Ah, I know you don't mean it.
-I'd Love To (1993)
-Again I lay awake, and I cried because of waste. I'd love to, but only with you...Oh, time is gonna wipe us out. There, I've said it loud and clear so that you will hear. There's no one in view. Just you...and time will never wipe you out. Now I've had enough. I've had more than could be my rightful share of nights I can't bear. How can it be fair? Time must wipe them out. So, again, I lay awake in a trance. Oh, I just want my chance, but only with you...that's all...
-Spring-Heeled Jim (1993)
-Spring-heeled Jim lives to love. Now kissing with his mouth full, and his eyes on some other fool. So many women - his head should be spinning. Ah, but no!
-Spring-heeled Jim slurs the words: "There's no need to be so knowing. Take life at five times your average speed, like I do."
-Billy Budd (1993)
-Say, Billy Budd. So you think that you should? Everyone's laughing! Since I took up with you. Things have been bad. Yeah, but now it's twelve years on. Now it's twelve years on. Yes, and I took up with you.
-Yes, and it's all because of us. Oh, and what was in our eyes...I said, Billy Budd I would happily lose both of my legs...I would lose both of my legs if it meant you could be free.
-Hold On to Your Friends (1993)
-A bond of trust has been abused. Something of value may be lost. Give up your job. Squander your cash - be rash. Just hold on to your friends. There are more than enough to fight and oppose. Why waste good time fighting the people you like? Who will fall defending your name?
-But now you only call me when you're feeling depressed. When you feel happy I'm so far from your mind. My patience is stretched. My loyalty vexed.
-Be mad, be rash. Smoke and explode. Sell all of your clothes. Just bear in mind: Oh, there just might come a time when you need some friends.
-Speedway (1993) (Johnny/Issues with the NME)
-And when you slam down the hammer can you see it in your heart? All of the rumors...keeping me grounded. I never said, I never said that they were completely unfounded.
-So when you slam down the hammer can you see it in your heart? Can you delve so low? And when you're standing on my fingers can you see it in your heart? And when you try to break my spirit it won't work, because there's nothing left to break...anymore.
-You won't sleep until the earth that wants me finally has me. Oh you've done it now. You won't rest. Until the hearse that becomes me finally takes me...And you won't smile until my loving mouth is shut good and proper. Forever.
-And all those lies, written lies, twisted lies. Well, they weren't lies. They weren't lies...I never said...I could have mentioned your name. I could have dragged you in. Guilt by implication. By association. I've always been true to you in my own strange way. I've always been true to you in my own sick way. I'll always stay true to you.
-You Must Please Remember (1994)
-A small boy, big ideas. You must please remember. A long road, with no turn-off. Oh, you must remember. Caught in your headlights like a frightened animal. You must remember. Someone cries twice nightly. Of course, I do remember. Someone cries, and you think quite rightly so, but you refuse to remember.
-Low-lights and long nights. I try hard to not remember. And you - too beautiful. I can't look. I've done so very many stupid things. It's too late.
-Honey, You Know Where To Find Me (1994)
-Honey, I'm not gonna cry for the things that never occurred. So do not remind me. Happy to be as I was in the first place. Honey you know where to find me...Kicking away from the mundane everyday. The envy is beyond me. I'm not gonna pine for the things that can never be mine. Do not expect me to. I'm happy to be who I was in the first place.
-Whatever Happens I Love You (1994)
-Names, secret names, but never in my favour. But when all is said and done - it's you I love. Cold loving prose. We stole each other's clothes, but when all is said and done - it's you I love. Yes, yes, yes, oh, yes. (Note: Moz often sings this as 'we wore each other's clothes')
-Fights for rights. Everyone's oh so quick with advice, and when they've all said their piece - it's still you I love. Now just like then...yes, yes. No, yes, yes, yes, yes, yes.
-You Should Have Been Nice to Me (Jake?/Johnny) (1994/1995)
-You could have told me at the right time. You could have introduced me proudly. Never need to have to kiss me. Never need to ever touch me, but you should have been nice to me. It would have been so easy. And on the moments when I was down you could have been there. You could have once just spoke in favor. You'd never need to ever touch me. But you should have been nice to me...It wouldn't cost you money. And on the moments when I fell down - not for you to say, oh, I told you so. You could have waited...
-Trouble Loves Me (1996/1997)
-Trouble loves me. Trouble needs me. Two things more than you do, or would attempt to. So, console me. Otherwise, hold me. Just when it seems like everything's evened out, and the balance seems serene...
-Trouble loves me. Walks beside me. To chide me. Not to guide me. It's still much more than you'll do.
-Go to waste in the wrong arms. Still running 'round. Trouble loves me. Seeks and finds me. To charlatanize me, which is only as it should be. Oh, please fulfill me. Otherwise, kill me.
-Then at midnight I can't get you out of my head. A disenchanted taste...still running 'round.
-Heir Apparent (1996/1997)
-It's all changed. You were there. Departing, starting a trek I had once took. With that "no-one's gonna stop me when I feel this way" look.
-You think it's so easy, I tell you - it isn't. But you may change minds with your winning smile.
-So I tried to make my way back to the station. You were still there, gleaming and leaving. Wide-eyed and awestruck, saying "How can anybody hate me if I love them first off?"
-Heir apparent. You say that you want it, I'm sure that you'll get it. They'll seduce your heart, and then they'll slap your arse.
-The Edges Are No Longer Parallel (1997)
-All of the things you said...so meaningful. They are all so suddenly meaningless. And the looks you gave...so meaningful. They are all so suddenly meaningless.
-My only mistake is I keep hoping...
-I Like You (Jake/Johnny) (2000-2002)
-Something in you caused me to take a new tact with you. You were going through something I had just about scraped through. Why do you think I let you get away with the things you say to me? Could it be I like you? It's so shameful of me - I like you. No one I ever knew or have spoken to resembles you. This is good or bad all depending on my general mood.
-Magistrates who spend their lives hiding their mistakes - they look at you and I, and envy makes them cry. Envy makes them cry. Forces of containment. They shove their fat faces into mine. You and I just smile, because we're thinking the same line.
-You're not right in the head, and nor am I, and this is why...you're not right in the head, and nor am I, and this is why...this is why I like you.
-Let Me Kiss You (Jake?/Johnny?) (2000-2002)
-There's a place in the sun for anyone who has the will to chase one. And I think I've found mine...so close your eyes. And think of someone you physically admire, and let me kiss you.
-Say, would you let me cry, on your shoulder. I've heard that you'll will try anything twice. (Note: Moz often sings this as 'you'll try anyone twice')
-But then you open your eyes, and you see someone that you physically despise. But my heart is open. My heart is open to you.
-Friday Mourning (2004)
-For years, I warned you. Through tears, I told you.
-This dawn raid soon put paid to all the things I'd whispered to you at night time. And I will never stand naked in front of you, or if I do, it won't be for a long time. Look once to me, look once to me - then look away. Look once to me, then look away.
-The Never-Played Symphonies (2004)
-I can't see those who tried to love me, or those who felt they understood me. And I can't see those who very patiently put up with me. All I can see are the never-laid, or the never played symphonies.
-You were one, you meant to be one. And you jumped into my face and laughed and kissed me on the cheek. And then were gone forever. Not quite.
-You were one, you knew you were one. And you slid right through my fingers. No, not literally, but metaphorically. And now you're all I see as the light fades.
-I Am Two People (2004)
-I love you. It's murder. I am two people. One you know, but don't like. The other one you don't know, but you don't want to.
-I love you. It's pointless. In my soul if I live or die this life.
-I have two faces. One of which you know. The other one, for your sake, I never would show. It's just because I love you. I cannot bear to be around you, and if only one or the other of us would drop down dead.
-You Have Killed Me (2005)
-Pasolini is me. 'Accattone' you'll be. I entered nothing and nothing entered me 'til you came with the key. And you did your best, but as I live and breathe - you have killed me.
-And there is no point saying this again - there is no point saying this again, but I forgive you, I forgive you. Always I do forgive you.
-Life is a Pigsty (2005)
-And once again I turn to you. Once again, I do. I turn to you.
-Life is a pigsty. And if you don't know this then what do you know? Every second of my life I only live for you. And you can shoot me, and you can throw me off a train. I still maintain...
-I can't reach you. I can't reach you. I can't reach you anymore. Can you please stop time? Can you stop the pain? I feel too cold. And now I feel too warm again. Can you stop this pain? Can you stop this pain? Even now in the final hour of my life I'm falling in love again...again.
-I Just Want to See the Boy Happy (2005)
-I want to see the boy happy with some hope in his pale eyes. Is that too much to ask?
-I want to see the boy happy with his arms around his first love. Is that too much to ask? Before I die I have one final dream. For my own life I don't care anything. And I just want to...I want to see this boy happy. Why is this such a bad thing?
-To Me You Are A Work of Art (Jake?/Johnny?) (2005)
-I see the world. It makes me puke. But then I look at you and know that somewhere there's a someone who can soothe me.
-To me you are a work of art. And I would give you my heart - that's if I had one.
-Black Cloud (2007)
-The one I love is standing near. The one I love is everywhere. I can woo you. I can amuse you, but there is nothing I can do to make you mine. Black cloud, black cloud. The one I love roosts in the mind. Can snap this spell, or increase hell. I can chase you, and I can catch you, but there is nothing I can do to make you mine.
-I play the game of favorites now. I can, I must. I will, I do. I can please you, or I can freeze you out, but there is nothing I can do to make you mine. Black cloud, black cloud, black cloud...I can choke myself to please you, and I can sink much lower than usual. But there's nothing I can do to make you mine.
-Sorry Doesn't Help (2007)
-Sorries pour out of you. All wide-eyed simple smiles. Certain to see you through like a QC full of fake humility. You say: "Oh, please forgive..." You say: "Oh, live and let live..." But sorry doesn't help us, and sorry will not save us, and sorry will not bring my teen years back to me any time soon. Forced back, it springs right out. Seasoned, you have no doubts. You lied about the lies that you told - which is the full extent of what being you is all about.
-Sorry will not bring my love into my arms as far as I know...
-Sorry is just a word you find so easy to say...So you say it anyway. Sorry doesn't help us. Sorry won't protect us. Sorry won't undo all the good gone wrong, my love.
-I'm Ok By Myself (2007)
-Now this might surprise you, but I find I'm ok by myself. And I don't need you, or your morality to save me.
-Now this might disturb you, but I find I'm ok by myself, and I don't need you or your benevolence to make sense.
-After all these years I find I'm ok by myself. And I don't need you, or your homespun philosophy. No, no, no, no...This might make you throw up in your bed: I'm ok by myself! And I don't need you, and I never have, I never have.
-Forgive Someone (2010-2014)
-Use a weapon of words, or a fight with your fists. But can you forgive someone? Stand your ground and persist, and be the last one to blink - but can you forgive someone? And if you do...I'll run to you. Betray you? With a word? I would slit my own throat first of all, I will. The black peat of the hills...when I was still ill. See this mess and forgive someone, and then recall if you can...how all this even began.
-Our truth will die with me. Our truth will die with me...Shorts and supports and faulty shower heads. At track and field we dreamt of our beds. In the bleachers you sit with your legs spread, smiling: "Here's one thing you'll never have." Our truth will die with me.
-Home is a Question Mark (written 2003, released 2017)
-I hug the land but nothing more, because I haven't met you. I've wined and I've dined with every bogus music mogul. No sign of you.
-I have been brave. Deep in every shaven cave. None were you.
-If I ever find home...if I get there, would you meet me? Wrap your legs around my face just to greet me.
-My Love, I'd Do Anything for You (possibly?) (2017)
-My love, I'd do anything for you. Society's hell. You need me just like I need you.
-You know me well. My love, I'd do anything for you.
-We all go our own ways, separately in the same direction, and here am I every night of my life always missing someone. I'd like to be rotted out just before I become aware of the pain. The more I wish in my heart for someone less likely they come.
-Never Again Will I Be A Twin (2017) (Possibly?)
-Never again will I be a twin. The operation went well, but the patient died. Never again will there be a smile to wipe off my face once it's too much. In a twin-like realm, in the plastic arts of falling in love, what a joke that was. What a joke that was.
-Darling, I Hug A Pillow (2020)
-Darling, I hug a pillow in absence of you. Darling, I hug a pillow to replace your face. Loving you is a trauma no one else should face, or sit still for. Why can't you give me some physical love?
-Darling, you will cry for me in the years to come. In the hope of a moment that cannot return...thankfully. Why can't you bring figs all pulpy and moist? Roasted in passion and salty in voice? No longer keeping a secret of your secret place.
#And some songs I just can't pin down#Like I'm still not sure on You're Gonna Need Someone On Your Side#Or Dear God Please Help Me#Anyways#Moz out here like I will make my obsession with this man my whole career#This man will be turning on a radio for 40 years and still be hearing songs about himself#What a vibe#And then just think about songs we have titles of but no final lyric#The song titled Angie#Or the song titled I Don't Want Us to Finish#How much has this man written about his boyfriend#And then the entirety of List of the Lost#Good gosh#Marrissey
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Unexpected Snow
Pairing: Frank Castle x fem!reader
Summery: When you try to hide from a heavy snowstorm in a motel, you find out that all the rooms are taken. Frank offers you his room, but you can’t let him sleep in his truck. You get him into your room and into your bed 👀
Warnings: explicit (minors dni!!!), big age gap (reader is 21, Frank in in his late 40’s), pet names (Sweetheart, sweet girl, good girl, pretty girl), no use of y/n, alcohol consumption, harassment (not from Frank), smut, oral (m & f receiving), unprotected piv (be smart friendsss), little bit of praise kink, little bit of degradation kink, dirty talk, creampie.
Author’s note: alright I really wanted to participate in the Beardthalbash thing. So I wrote this. I hope you guys like it. If you do, please let me know with a note and if you really like it, please reblog. You’ll make my day and it’s completely freeee.
Disclaimer: English is not my first language + I kind of wrote this pretty quickly because of the Beardthalbash deadline. Don’t hate me for any mistakes ✌🏼
Masterlist
“Why?!” You yell out angrily, slamming your steering wheel and accidentally pressing the horn. “Oh shit..” You sink lower into your seat and wave a little apology at the car beside you. The lady on the radio continues talking. She goes on about the upcoming snowstorm and you really start to realize that you won’t make it to your destination. “Why today..” You whine to yourself.
After living with your alcoholic mother, and all the different men she brought in your life over the years, you finally decided that it was time for you to leave. You packed your bags, got into your car, closed your eyes and pointed your finger somewhere on your map to pick a location for you to start a new life.
You’ve been driving for a few hours now and the weather is getting worse and worse. You can feel your car struggling against the wind and the road surface slowly turns white with the snow that’s falling. Your wipers are working overtime and the windows fog over. “Fucking hell.” You mutter and turn off the radio, you’re done with the slight tone of panic in the weather reporter’s voice.
A few miles ago you saw a sign that said there was a motel nearby and you sigh in relieve when you see the exit towards it. “Lets just hope this only lasts ‘till the morning..” You say as you drive onto the parking lot. It is fully packed, but you find a spot. It’s not exactly near the entrance, but you take it. You get out of the car and are immediately hit by a gust of snowy wind. You run over to the reception and quickly get inside.
There’s a line of people, all trying to get a room and you quietly join the queue. It doesn’t take long before it’s your turn and you reach into your bag for your money. “One single room please..” You say while you look.
“I’m sorry ma’am but we’re fully booked for the night.” The lady behind the counter tells you. “There’s another motel a couple of miles away. If you want, I can call them to see if they still have a room?”
“W-what?” You ask frowning. You look out of the window, the weather has gotten even worse and there’s no way you can safely drive any further. “You have nothing?” You ask, slightly panicking.
“I’m afraid so..” She answers.
“Can stay with me, pretty thing..” You hear a voice drawl behind you. You turn around and see a man smirking at you. You take in his appearance and your stomach turns at the idea of having to sleep with him to have a place to stay. He must be in his sixties, his blonde-grayish hair sticks to his forehead and his mustache turned yellow under his nose due to years of smoking. There’s stains on the flannel that’s way to tight around his beer belly. “Got room for you in my bed, I mean..” He adds as his watery eyes glide over your body.
“N-no thank you.” You say nervously, deciding that it’s not worth it.
“Oh come on, Princess, can’t go out in weather like that..” He says nodding towards the window. He walks closer to you and you’re overwhelmed by the smell of sweat, stale beer and ashtray. It brings you back to all the times your mother’s boyfriends would try to get handsy with you. “Promise I’m not a serial killer.” He says laughing and displaying his yellow teeth.
“N-no, I’m good, really..” You say again and he reaches out to touch your face but you back away.
“She said no, asshole.” A voice behind you barks. You turn around and see a big, attractive looking man. Dark hair, dark eyes, well groomed beard. He radiates danger, but for some reason he makes you feel safe. “Leave her alone.”
“And who the fuck are you?” The creep asks him. “Who are you to decide what I should do. Keep it to yourself and let me have my fun with this one.” He adds and tries to reach out for your waist this time.
Your savior grabs his wrist and turns it, making him cry out in pain. “Go to your room and leave the girl alone.” He says, his voice a whispered growl.
“Ah ah ah, okey okey!” He says trying to free his arm. Once he succeeds he holds up his hands. “Alright. She’s all yours man. Not worth the fucking trouble.” He says, looking you up and down as he walks away.
You wrap your arms around yourself, feeling dirty with how looked at you and spoke about you. “Thanks..” You say looking at the floor.
“Here. Take my room.” He says and hands you a key.
You frown. “W-what? But where are you gonna-“
“Slept in worse conditions. I’ll be fine.” He says. “Take the keys, kid.”
“I’m not a kid.” You say looking up at him. Not really sure why it bothers you.
He huffs a laugh and smirks a little at your stubbornness. “Just take the keys and be safe, okey?”
“We can-“ You start. “We can share the room.” You say taking in his appearance and not minding his company.. “I’m not comfortable with letting you drive in this weather either.”
“I’m not driving, I’ll just crash in my truck.” He says. “I’ll be okey ki-, sweetheart. Trust me.”
You smile a little at how he caught himself when he was gonna call you kid again. “But-“
“Go.” He presses. “Get your stuff before the weather gets even worse and I’m not even gonna let you get back to your car.” He smirks teasingly.
“O-okey, thanks a lot, ehh..”
“Frank.”
“Thanks a lot, Frank.” You smile and take the keys from him, quickly shoving a fifty dollar bill in his hand for the costs of the room.
“You don’t need t-“ He starts, looking at the money.
“You will take it.” You cut him off and you quickly walk away before he can say something else.
You hold your hands above your head to shield you from the snow while you run to your car. It does absolutely nothing to protect you, but there’s not really a better option available at the moment.
Luckily you fit al your belongings in a single suitcase and a backpack, so you don’t have to haul a lot of luggage. You grab your stuff and run as best as you can towards the rooms. The wheels on your cheap suitcase have trouble with the speed and the think layer of snow that has formed on the floor. You quickly look at the worn leather tag that’s attached to the key. “23..” You mutter the room number. The room in front of you has a big 18 on the door. You follow the wall to your left. “19.. 20.. 21..” You mutter to yourself as you pass the doors. The sound of a car door slamming closed catches your attention and you look over to the parking lot. It’s the guy who gave you his room. Frank. You squint your eyes to look inside his truck and see how he’s wrapped himself in a blanket. You bite your lip, feeling guilty and hold up your hand in a mixture of greeting, thanking and apologizing. He waves back and juts his chin in the direction of your room, telling you without words, to go inside.
You rush inside and look around. It’s a bit dated with the terrible green and orange wallpaper and worn out wooden furniture, but it’s nice and warm which is the only important thing for the night. You look around, but there’s not much to see. A bed, a tv, a desk with a chair and thank god, a minibar. You open the door to the bathroom, and peer inside. “Fucking hell..” You laugh through your nose when you see the puke green shower cabin. “Who would choose that..?”
You decide that going to bed early will make it feel like the time goes faster so that you can hopefully be on your way again before you know it. You fish some clean underwear and a big t-shirt from your suitcase to sleep in and head into the bathroom for a shower.
The hot water feels good on your skin and it’s the first time today that you relax a little bit. Your mind drifts to Frank in his truck and you really feel guilty. He helped you out big time and now he’s out there in the cold. You figure you could at least invite him in for a beer or something. If he really doesn’t want to share the room, he can always go back to his truck after that. You turn off the shower and quickly dry and dress yourself.
You peek through the curtains and see that he’s still awake, reading some book. You bite your lip and wave to get his attention, but he doesn’t notice you. “Fuck..” You mutter to yourself and move to open the door. “Frank!” You yell, shivering from the cold. Goosebumps forming on your bare legs. “Frank!”
He looks up and his eyes widen. He rolls down his window. “What the hell are you doing?!” He yells. “Go inside!”
“Come in here!” You yell back. “Warm up a bit, h-have a beer, take a sh-shower, whatever.. Y-you can go back to sleep in your truck after, j-just come in for a while.” You say shivering. “W-won’t take no f-for an answer.”
“Fucking hell..” He curses, wiping a hand over his face in annoyance and quickly gets from the car. “Alright, alright. Just go inside!” He says while he grabs a duffel bag from the backseat.
You smile to yourself, happy to get what you want and you quickly get inside, leaving the door open for him.
“What’s wrong with you.” He growls when he gets inside and quickly closes the door behind him.
“Felt guilty.” You answer shrugging as you sit down on the edge of the bed.
“Gotta be more careful with people if you’re gonna be traveling alone, little girl.” He says and drops his bag on the floor. “Don’t even know me.”
You pout a little, knowing that he’s right. “You gave me your room instead of offering to share like that creep.” You justify your actions. “Guess that makes you a good man, right?”
He huffs as if he doesn’t really agree with you.
“So…” You say skeptically. “Are you like.. Gonna kill me or something?”
He laughs quietly. “No, Sweetheart, you’re good.”
“Good. And I won’t kill you, so that’s settled then.” You say. “And I’m not a little girl by the way, I’m 21.”
He laughs. “Alright, I’m sorry.” He says holding up his hands in a mock excuse.
“There’s towels in the bathroom.” You say while you get up to look in the mini fridge. “The water is nice. And here..” You say when you open the fridge. “Here we have some beers, some nuts and some chocolates.”
“You don’t have to do this.” He says. “I’m fine in my truck.”
“Stop it. I’m not letting you stay out there.” You say, leaving no room for discussion.
“Alright.” He says, rubbing his neck. He grabs his bag and takes some clothes out to bring into the bathroom.
You grab yourself a beer and lie down on the lumpy bed. “Let’s see what the weather is gonna do..” You mutter to yourself while turning on the tv.
“Conditions are getting worse and worse outside and it does not look like this storm is going to settle anytime soon. Specialists are calling it the worst snow storm in years. You’re advised to stay inside and-“ The weather lady gets cut off by a shirtless Frank who opens the bathroom door.
Your mouth drops open at the sight of his ripped body, he slicks his wet hair back and water drips from his beard onto his chest. You rasp your throat and look away. “‘M sorry, didn’t think to bring one to the bathroom.” He says as he grabs a tank top and pulls it over his head.
You’re suddenly very aware of your lack of pants. Sure the t-shirt you’re wearing is big enough to be called a dress, but it still only reaches your mid thigh. “I can, eh, I can put on pants if you-“
“Don’t worry about it.” He says while taking a beer from the fridge. He grabs the chair, sitting down on it with his legs spread. “‘S your room, should wear what you want, right.”
You nod towards the tv, changing the subject of your clothing, or the lack thereof, to the weather reporter. “Says it might be the worst storm in like.. Ever..” You say. “Well, maybe not ever.. But in years.”
“-cold temperatures like this can be deadly, so please be careful and stay inside if possible.” The weather lady continues on the tv.
“See. It’s dangerous out there. Think it would be considered murder if I let you sleep out there in your truck and you die tonight?”
“Nahh..” Frank says smirking. “Sooo.. What’s the deal with you? You running from something or towards something?” He asks waving a hand at your luggage.
“Who says I’m running?” You ask biting your lip.
Frank raises his eyebrows and tilts his head, telling you it’s pretty obvious without words.
You sigh and look away. “From something I guess.. I don’t know, just.. Just need a fresh start, you know?”
“Hmm.” He nods in understanding. “Get that..”
“What about y-“ You start but you’re interrupted by a loud knocking on the door. “The fuck..” You mumble nervously and you pull your legs up to your chest.
There’s another loud knock and you see Frank grabbing a gun from his bag. “Wha-? W-why do you have that?” You whisper yell.
Frank places his finger against his lips to tell you to shut up and he walks to the door. “Hey Princes!” You hear the slurred voice of the creep from before and another loud knock on the door. Frank’s body visibly relaxes, he places the gun in his waistband on his back and he yanks open the door.
“The fuck did I tell you, huh?” He growls.
“Y-you?” He asks confused. He sounds very drunk. “Saw the -hic- saw the girl go in here..”
“Get the fuck out of here.” Frank says angrily. “Now.”
Seeing Frank protect you like that kind of turns you on. And the way the muscles of his shoulders and back flex as he tenses in anger when the guy doesn’t leave straight away. Fuck.. The beer and that fact that you haven’t gotten any action in a while also don’t help.
“If you wanna live, you go to your room now and you don’t come out till the morning.” Frank rasps in a low voice.
You should be scared of this stranger with a gun, threatening someone’s life, but you’re not.
“Alright.. Jesus..” You hear the guy slur and you’re guessing he walks away.
“Yeah, that’s right..” Frank rasps before closing the door, placing the gun on the desk and sitting down again. You watch his Adam’s apple bob as he takes a sip of his beer and you squeeze your thighs together.
“T-thanks. Don’t know what I’d do if you weren’t here.” You say. “Good thing I got you in here, huh?” You add, smiling and winking playfully. Maybe even flirtatiously.
“Yeah yeah..” He huffs a laugh.
“First you save me by giving me your room and then you help me get a creep away from that room..” You say getting on your knees on the edge of the bed and looking up at him through your lashes. You’re pretty sure your nipples are showing through your shirt. “How can I ever repay you..?”
“How can ya-?” He looks off to the side, licks his lips and looks back at you. “Listen, Sweetheart.. You don’t have to do this. ‘S not why I helped you.”
“I know I don’t have to..” You say and you bite your lip, looking at his crotch. You think the bulge has grown a little already.
“Y-you already gave me money for the room and let me use your shower..” You can tell he’s getting a little nervous.
“Huh.. That’s right..” You say smirking at the realization. “Maybe.. Maybe you should thanks me then..” You’ve never been this forward in your life, but you kind of like it. There’s no going back now and you lift your t-shirt over your head.
“Fuck..” Frank growls softly as he takes in your appearance. The only thing covering you is a tiny black thong. “Sweetheart..” He pleads a little, but he gets up and walks your way. He places two fingers under your chin and pushes your head back, making sure you look up at him. “You sure?”
“Please..” You say panting.
He growls a little and moves his hands to your bare tits. “These are perfect..” He says as he squeezes them a little before rolling the hard nipples between his fingers.
You moan softly and arch your back, pushing against his hands. “F-feels good.”
“Yeah?” He asks as he leans forward and sucks one hard little peak into his mouth.
“Yesss..” You moan louder as you feel his warm tongue slide over your skin. He bites gently and your eyes roll back in your head. “Fuckkk..” His beard scratches against your skin, but it only adds to the pleasure.
“Like that, little girl?” He asks.
“Not a little-“
“Yeah y’are.. A bad little girl.. Seducing men over twice her age..” He mumbles against your skin as he kisses his way to your other nipple. Giving it the same attention as the first one.
“Oh fuck..” You whine, your belly clenching at his words. “Don’t usually.. I.. I’m a good girl..” You pant.
He gets up and pulls the tank top over his head. “Good girl, huh? That right?”
You nod, looking up at him through your lashes.
He slowly undoes the strings of his shorts. “Gonna show me how good of a girl y’are, hm?”
You swallow thickly. “Y-yes..” You say nervously and move back on the bed so you can lean forward on your elbows, your face level with his crotch. “P-please..”
He growls and pushes the shorts down together with his boxers. A big, rock hard cock springs free. It’s thick and veiny with a nice, large, pre cum leaking head. Your mouth waters and you moan loudly. “So big..” You whine and take him in your hand. “Fuck..” You swallow thickly as your feel that he’s too big to wrap your finger around the shaft.
“You can handle it though, right, Sweetheart?” He teases and gently lays his hand on the back of your head tangling his fingers in your hair.
“Gonna try..” You say while you start stroking him. You look up at him while you stick out your tongue and lick the pre cum from his tip, lightly tonguing the little slit before swirling your tongue all around the head.
“F-fuck..” He hisses.
You contemplate if you should tease a little more, but you’re too inpatient. You smile up at him and slowly let him slide into your mouth. Your lips stretch tightly around his girth and you moan.
“That’s it.. That’s a good girl..” He groans as you take him as deep as you can, until he pushes against your throat.
You moan and your eyes roll back in your head at his words. You’ve never been with anyone who talked to you like this and you really like it.
You start sucking him slow and deep, letting your saliva drip down his shaft. You stroke the part that doesn’t fit in your mouth with one hand and gently fondle his balls with the other. The muscles in his stomach clench and his hips buck forward. The movement pushes his cock against your throat and you gag. “Fuck ‘m sorry.. Been a while..”
You smile around him and moan. “Oh you like that, huh?” He asks and he thrusts deep into your mouth. You gag again. Your eyes roll back and you moan. You love the way he takes control, the way he uses your mouth, your throat, for his pleasure. “Yeahh.. See, just a dirty, bad little girl.. Want me to fuck your face, hm?”
You try to say yes with his cock in your mouth, but all that comes out is some gurgles, so you nod. He growls and starts thrusting. “That’s it.. Take that fucking cock..”
You gag and choke. Your eyes are watery as you look up at him and you’ve never been more turned on in your life. Never been this wet.
“Gonna make me cum like that..” He groans. His hand tightens in your hair and he pulls out.
“Hmmmm.” You protest and you try to keep him in, but let go with a pop.
You pout and he chuckles. “I was supposed to be thanking you, remember?” He asks, gently stroking himself.
“Y’are..” You say, your voice a bit hoarse. “Think I’m doing this for you?” You tease smirking. “No.. This is for me.. And now I want my treat..” You add and open your mouth, sticking out your tongue.
He laughs through his nose and shakes his head in disbelieve. “Gonna take a minute before I can go again if I do that. ‘M not 18 anymore, Sweetheart.”
“Don’t care..” You say. “Please..” You add before sucking him back in your mouth hungrily.
Frank growls loudly. Rambling while you determinedly suck him off, stroking what you can’t fit in your mouth. “Fuck.. You want it, Sweetheart? Want my cum? Such a good girl.. Yeah, don’t stop.. Sweet girl.. Fuckkkk!”
Thick, hot cum coats your tongue and squirts against the back of your throat. You moan and swallow everything. Fuck that was hot.. You slowly and gently suck a little more, trying to get every last drop without overstimulating him. “F-fucking hell..” He groans softly. You let his softening member slide from your mouth and smile up at him proudly. He smiles back at you lazily, showing the crow’s feet next to his eyes, and caresses your cheek. “That was amazing..” He pants. He immediately looks more light and relaxed.
“Yeah?” You tease, biting your lip and getting up, sitting back on your heels.
“Yeah..” He says and he almost sounds a little shy. “Your turn now..” He says as he gets on the bed and guides you on your back with him on top of you. He gently grabs your jaw and leans in to kiss you. The scratching of his beard against your chin and cheeks is pleasant in contrast with his soft lips. His tongue darts out and flicks over your bottom lip, silently asking to let him in. You open your mouth and your tongues dance together in a passionate kiss. His free hand moves between your bodies to your dripping center and he growls. “Oh, Sweetheart.. You’re soaking..” He mutters against your lips
You buck your hips into his hand. “P-please..” You pant. You need more.. A lot more..
“Did sucking me off make you this wet, Sweetheart?” He teases a little.
You don’t answer, just moan.
“Can I take these off?” He asks playing with the hem of your panties.
“Please..” You say. You’re the shy one now.
l
He sits up, hooks his thumbs in the lacy fabric and you lift your hips, so he can slide them down your legs. He throws them on the floor. “Open up, pretty girl..” He says and he slides his hand from your knees to the insides of your thighs spreading you open for him. He growls loudly. “Such a pretty pussy.. Wanna taste you, Sweetheart.. You want that? Want my tongue, sweet girl?”
“Y-yes, Frank.. Please.. Need it so badddd..” The last word is dragged out as he slowly slides his flat tongue through the full length of your slit. “Holy shit..” You moan.
He growls loudly. “Hmmmm.. You taste so good..” He slides his tongue through your lips a few more times, pushing it inside of you a couple of times, before swirling it around your clit. His tongue soft, warm and wet against your sensitive skin.
“Ooh, Frank! Fuck! Y-your good at that!” Your hips buck and he holds you down, growling. He slowly pushes two fingers inside you and sucks your clit into his mouth. “Holy.. Fuck!” He hooks his fingers inside you, massaging the spongy skin at your front wall while sucking and licking on your clit. You see stars. “Frank I’m gonna.. Please don’t stop! I’m gonna..” You fist your hand in his hair, holding on for dear life.
“Do it..” He hums against your skin. “Cum on my tongue..”
You cry out loudly as you explode. “Yessss!! Oh fuck!”
“Hmmm..” He growls as he laps up your juices. “Good girl.. Good girl.. Fuck I need to be inside you..”
“Yess.. Need you.. Please..” You pant and you try to pull him up at his shoulders. He moves over you, forearms on either side of your head, caging you in and kisses you again, hungrily. You taste yourself in his mouth and the hairs from his beard are wet with your slick.
He’s hard again and you can feel him against your groin. He moves his hand between your body’s and aligns himself with your opening. “Ready, Sweetheart?” He asks looking into your eyes.
“Yes.. Give it to me..” You pant.
“Eyes on me.” He says and slowly but surely sinks inside of you. “Fuck..” He hisses. “So tight..”
Your mouth falls open. “Oh Frank..” You moan. “So big.. So good..”
He slowly starts fucking you. His jaw is slack and he looks at you like he’s in awe. “Please, kiss me..” You moan and he happily obliges. It’s amazing and it feels like the two of you have known each other since forever.
“You feel so good..” He growls against your lips and speeds up his thrusts, making you cry out a little. “This okey?” He asks between kisses and he moves his hand between your bodies to rub your clit.
“M-more.. Harder, please..” You moan.
“Yeah?” He asks, lifting up his head to look you in the eyes. You nod and he nods back before speeding up his thrusts even more, properly pounding you now. You can feel him slamming against your cervix and it feels absolutely amazing.
“Oh F-Frank! Fuck!” You cry out loudly. You can feel yourself nearing another orgasm. “Please don’t stop! Don’t stop!”
He growls. “Gonna cum for me? Gonna cum on my cock?!” He asks never slowing his pace.
“Yes!! Oh Frank!!!” You squeeze your thighs around him tightly and lose yourself in your orgasm. “Yessss!!”
“Fuck! Wh-where d’you want it?” He pants, his voice sounds strained.
“I-Inside! Please! I’m on birth control.. Please I want it inside me! Please Frank, please cum for me!” You beg, moaning.
His breath hitches in his throat. “Oh you’re perfect.. S-so perfect.. Fucking fill you up.. T-take it!” He pushes inside of you as deep as he can and stills as he cums, growling loudly. “Yessss!!”
He collapses on top of you and you just lie there, both panting. “Can’t breathe.” You say after a while. He chuckles and rolls next to you, pulling you into his arms.
“That was..” He mutters.
“Yeah it was.” You say.
“‘M not going back to my truck.” He says looking at you, smirking.
You laugh. “I’m glad.” You say and you cuddle into his chest.
You don’t know what tomorrow will bring and if the snow will be gone, but you don’t want to think about that now. Right now, you just want to enjoy the warmth and safety from this amazing man.
#frank castle x reader#frank castle x you#frank castle smut#beardthalbash#beardthalbash2023#the punisher#the punisher x you#the punisher x reader#the punisher smut#fanfic
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Radio Free Bucky - Bucky x Fem!OC
Pairing: Bucky x OC (in progress)
Warnings: Fluff, mild angst, casual swearing, smut in later chapters
Series Summary: A bunch of interrelated of fluffy ficlets about Bucky and Penelope. Strangers in the night, tenuously connected by the past, finding their way together a little at a time.
Chapter Summary: In which Bucky has a birthday and someone unexpected knows about it.
It was his birthday, but he’d kept the proceedings low key. Dinner with Sam and his family, some cake, before retiring to the fixer-upper he’d bought not far from their family homestead so he had a place to stay in Delacroix that wasn’t the front room couch when he came down. That’s really all he had the mental and emotional space for these days.
The soft patter of rain on the roof and windows droned in the background as he worked on the birdhouse Sarah had asked him to. Sam’s sister was a sweetheart, very unlike her brother, and he had no problem giving in to any and all requests from her and her boys. They did love them some Uncle Bucky.
A memory of a warm summer afternoon on the bayou made him smile as Chet Baker’s smooth voice crooned about falling in love too easily, just a shade louder than the downpour. As much as Sam gave him shit for it, Bucky liked what he liked, and he wasn’t ashamed. It was good music.
He’d found this satellite radio station one day online, looking for god knows what now, but it had been a revelation. A whole channel devoted to 40’s music, and it was like the universe was giving him a bit of comfort after kicking the hell out of him for so long.
The soulful trumpet at the end of the song faded into the gathering shadows in his workshop.
“That was Chet Baker on vocals and trumpet there, and I think that might be my favorite song of his. It’s ten past eight here on the east coast, and this is 40s Junction.”
Just hearing her voice made Bucky smile. It was warm, knowing, with a spark of humor that made him wonder if her actual smile was as nice as what he pictured in his head. And, to be fair, he’d pictured her a bit.
This woman, the only female DJ at the station near as he could tell, was a nightly companion as he worked on his projects and unwound at the end of the day. Hearing tiny snippets of her life, and how joyfully she related to the music that was clearly way too old to be current for her, made him feel a little less alone in the world. It was an unusual feeling and he’d started to enjoy it.
“Now, I know I promised you all I’d get to some Ella Fitzgerald this hour, but…” she trailed off and he turned his head to look at his phone like he expected to see her there, with a mischievous grin. “I wanted to take a moment to share something with you all. Today’s a special day in my family. It’s a tradition my Pawpaw started way back in 1945.
“I’m sure you all have guessed by now that he’s the reason I’m here with you, five nights a week from four to midnight. He was my best friend growing up and I miss him terribly.
He served in the Army in Italy, with the 107th Infantry Regiment.” Bucky carefully set his work aside as his fingers went numb.
“You history buffs probably recognize the unit, but for those that don't, that’s Captain America’s outfit, and my grandfather was Gabe Jones, one of the original Howling Commandos.
“Today is March 10th, the birthday of one of my Pawpaw’s fallen comrades in arms, Bucky Barnes. For years, on this day, he’d raise a glass and tell us about the man who saved his life more than once. A man who gave him a reason to go on, to keep fighting, even when all seemed hopeless. Whose death marked his young life indelibly. You get the picture.
“He’d raise a glass and ask us to remember the fallen and their families, and to help those still around us carry on. After the Blip, I’m sure a lot of us can relate to those sentiments.” Her sigh held paragraphs he didn’t need a translation for.
“Anyway, long story short, it feels weird to say that Bucky isn’t dead, as Pawpaw informed us, but I’m celebrating his day just the same. I’d like to think he’s having a good 107th birthday, out there, somewhere.
“As for me, I raise a glass to him, and all the boys who served.” She paused and he could faintly make out the sounds of ice cubes hitting glass. “And with an extra sip for those who didn’t make it home. Happy Birthday, Sergeant Barnes, wherever you are. Now, here’s Ella, serving up some Black Coffee.”
Bucky’s gasp when the music kicked back in told him that at some point he’d lost air, and even though he was breaking currently, the lump in his throat was throttling him slowly. Of all the things… so many thoughts in his head, fragments of memories, imaginings. Abandoning his workbench entirely, he shuffled across the room to toss himself down onto the couch in the now mostly-dark.
He could see Gabe’s face in his mind like it was yesterday. Easy smile, quick wit, brilliant mind. Gabriel Jones had been a good man, and it warmed Bucky’s heart to know he’d gone on to come home, have a family, and that he kept the joy in his life.
The tender affection in her voice when she spoke of her grandfather said more than any words could ever. That was the true measure of a man, the love of those left behind.
There was a voice in his head, one that sounded annoyingly like Dr. Rainor’s, whispering that he was well-remembered by those he’d left behind too, and that meant something. To them, to the world. It was a voice quickly snuffed out by the knowledge that while that may have been true at the time, a whole encyclopedia of lifetimes had transpired between then and now, and his worthiness of that sentiment, no matter how well-intended, well… it was more worn than not.
Still, it warmed his heart a little to know that he was thought of fondly, and by his DJ-crush of all people, even if it was a strange coincidence. How could it not? He may have still been getting used to this time, but having that moment, that connection no matter how brief, felt like a much-needed hug in a world that has offered him precious little in the way of comfort.
For a second, he could just close his eyes in the gathering darkness and let the music and rain rhythm wash over him, like a baptism of time, washing him clean once more. For a second, he could just… be. And it was enough
#fanfiction#avengers fanfic#bucky barnes fanfiction#bucky barnes#avengers fanfiction#bucky fanfic#bucky barnes smut#bucky barnes fic#bucky barnes fluff#bucky barnes imagine#bucky fluff#bucky imagine#james buchanan barnes#james buchanan bucky barnes#james bucky buchanan barnes
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I’m dying at the thought of you taking prompts again! May I please request some sexy role play with Flip or Clyde being your sexy but cheesy yard worker? Maybe stripping off his sweaty shirt while he trims the trees or something. He could double as a cabana boy and help you with sunscreen in all those hard to reach places too. Please and thank you 🖤🖤🖤
“Goddamn it’s hot out.” You groan by the pool, your ear trained for the response you’re hoping to elicit from your husband.
To your dismay, all you can hear is the sound of the lawn mower, and duh, you think, of course he couldn’t hear you. Not when he has those hideous headphones on anyway. Flip had decided to take the landscaping extremely seriously this year, which has been as charming as it is annoying. It seems like whenever you want to lounge by the pool with some good food and the radio, he’s trimming the grass.
You had prepared for this though, and decided to play a little game that you like to call how naked can I get before Flip notices? Normally by the time your tits are out, the game is over and he’s got his hands all over you, but you have a feeling this time around may require more work.
“I said,” You shout, untying your coverup and dragging the lounge chair to better face the sun, “It’s hot out here.”
Damn, no dice, you think as Flip doesn’t so much as look your way. No matter, you’re determined.
When you lie out on the chaise, clad in the smallest bikini you could possible find (it didn’t matter that it didn’t fit, in fact that was for the better), you are sure to crank the radio up. It’s right at the tail end of the 70s, and the top 40 station is playing all the upbeat summer time jams that you were hoping it would.
Those headphones do their damn job though, and Flip is still completely oblivious. He can’t mow the lawn forever, can he? You tug on the strings of your bikini, your top half completely exposed to the elements. The sun is hot on your skin, and you have a bottle of SPF to your side, but even after sitting up and posing yourself so that your tits are basically staring this man down, he still hasn’t noticed.
“You’ve gotta be fuckin’ kidding.” You chuckle to yourself, sighing as you resort to your last ditch effort.
The bikini bottom falls away from your body and you get comfortable on your stomach, your back and bare ass offering him up his final opportunity. If he doesn’t get his hot sweaty self over to you in the next thirty seconds...
The thought leaves your mind the second a solar eclipse leaves you in shadow, and you grin, knowing you’ve won.
“Is there something I can do for you, ma’am?” Flip asks, physically turning you back over on the chaise, his big head blocking the sunlight so you don’t have to squint directly up into it. You have a cheesy smile as you get comfortable, your arms draped over the back of the lounge chair, him completely clothed and you completely nude.
“You can get those smelly clothes away from me, or else my husband might know what we get up to.” You raise an eyebrow at him, a challenge. His eyes twinkle and his mouth ticks up in a sly grin.
“The husband, where is he off to this time? Business trip? Golfing with the guys?” Shucking the shirt off of his body, Flip picks up the game easily. He’s so good at improv, has to be because of his job. You like to think you’re helping him hone his skills.
“I don’t know,” You shrug playfully, running your hands over his strong stomach. He’s not an invincible moronic twenty-something anymore, like he was when you first met him. He’s covered in scars and he’s gained some weight in all the right places, gained some muscle too. It’s delicious, the way his gold chain swings in your face. “But you’re here. Are you going to show me a good time?”
“I’ll never disappoint you,” He lowers himself onto you, kissing his hot wet mouth all across your face and throat, making his way down to your chest. He kisses your breasts and grasps at your sides, and you can feel him filling out in his short short shorts.
“You’ve got an hour until he’s back,” You moan, knowing that Flip always takes on the challenge of seeing how many times he can make you come when you play these games, “Let’s see just how satisfied you’ll make me.”
He grabs you and chucks you over his shoulder in a fireman carry then, you laughing from the way your stomach flips upside down. He leaves the radio on in the backyard as he carries you up the stairs and to the master bedroom -- needing some sort of noise to cover up the volume he will undoubtedly coax out of you.
#flip zimmerman#flip zimmerman x reader#flip zimmerman x you#adcu#adam driver fanfic#sorry theres like no good summertime gifs of him lmao#thank you dear anon!!
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Another Cover Up (Part 3)
Fandom: The Boys
Pairing: Soldier Boy x Fem!Reader
Summary: After Herogasm, Butcher, Hughie and Soldier Boy realise they might need more reinforcements. After doing more research, they discover the woman who was also injected with Compound V alongside Soldier Boy back in the 40’s. Everyone also thought she was KIA that day at Nicaragua. But if Soldier Boy was still alive… maybe she was too?
If you DO wish to be tagged for future updates, please let me know.
Tags: @msbadgirl @queenofspades20 @mimzy1994 @erinnkenobi @goldngguk @ateliefloresdaprimavera @roseblue373 @acarboni21 @sexyvixen7
Chapter Warnings: language, mentions of past trauma, nothing specific but implied sexual assault by a family member
A reminder: this story will not be entirely canon to the show.
Series Masterlist
You were sitting on the wiry mattress of Legend's guest bedroom he had given you to use. Hughie was sitting on the other side of the room, looking at something on his handheld device. He had called it a phone, but it wasn't like any phone you'd seen.
You guess this was something you had to get used to now. How advanced the world had gotten in the nearly forty years you were locked away... you'd been able to easily adjust throughout the years before Russia, but that was because you were living through it. You never woke up one day and everything suddenly changed, it was always gradual...
But Hughie... He was a nice boy, you'd decided. Honest and caring. He kept making sure you had what you needed, happy to talk but understood when to shut up... most of the time... but he was easy to be around. He never seemed to have a hidden agenda, which was always refreshing for a telepath.
Since coming back, you'd not had the best control of your powers. Being able to read a person's mind was easy, but before Russia you'd learnt to switch it off in a way. Only go into a person's mind if you chose to. But you'd been hearing everyone's thoughts and it was a painful migraine the past two days. So not all thoughts were clear to you, it felt like a hundred radio stations competing with each other. It was easier if you were seperate from everyone, or just one on one. You were however, quickly picking up some old tricks of the trade and able to turn it off when you focused hard enough.
He tried his best to not be judgemental. But with Ben... You've always understood that would be difficult for anyone.
Ben was... an acquired taste... and even then he was difficult to read. At least to those who didn't know him like you did. He always came across as this macho man's man. He'd kill you for saying it out loud, but he seemed more and more like his cunt of a father when he was like this. Someone he himself despised...
He's always played an unapologetically, gruff, ready to kill you, misogynistic man, but you knew he was never like that. Not really.
"Y/N, can I ask you a question?" Hughie asks, looking up from his phone.
"You just did." You respond curtly.
Listen, he may have been a nice kid, but that didn't mean you trusted him. Your headache didn't help either. So you weren't trusting of your abilities a hundred percent to accurately read people yet.
"Oh um..." he fumbled.
"Oh for fucks sake, what's your question?"
"Was Soldier Boy... Ben...," he corrects himself. He'd learnt very quickly you hated referring to your childhood best friend by his Supe handle. "Was he always so...?" He trails off unsure.
"So much of an Asshole?" You offer.
Hughie looks at you, as if to say he didn't want to be the one to say it, but you were right on the money.
"Pretty much yeah... after the V." You add.
"Not before?" He asks slightly confused.
You smile sadly.
"No... before Vought, before the labs, before the power and all the bullshit fame that came along with it... Ben was actually one of the nicest guys you'd ever meet."
You don't have to hear Hughie's thoughts to know he struggled believing it.
"Kid... you're scrawny and way more soft toned, but... you kinda remind me of him when we were kids..." you see a mixture of astonishment and offence on his face, causing you to break out in a belly laugh. "That wasn't meant to be offensive at all, Hughie!"
"I just, erm..."
"You can't see it, I know." You chuckle. "Ben plays his part pretty well... one could say too well." Your voice changes. "So fucking well he started to believe it himself..."
"How did you guys meet? They always said, 'Soldier Boy and Vivid have been friends since they were kids', but... I never really believed the true story."
"Let me guess; you were told we grew up on the streets of South Philadelphia and our father's worked together and mother's cooked together. Both had loving and supportive parents. Got each other through the tough times?" He nods. "You're a smart boy."
"Always seemed too perfect."
"It wasn't entirely wrong." Hughie raises his brows. "We grew up in South Philly, and we got each other through the tough times. But our parents hated each other." You chuckle. "Fuck, one time my father threw a brick through their front window. Our parents never wanted us to see each other, because growing up in the 1920's and 30's, girls and boys didn't play together. His father said it made Ben seem like a fairy, and I was a slut. Well... both our parents said that..."
"But they were your parents..."
"Hughie..." you scoff, "not everyone has great parents... ours were some of the worst." Your tone changes to one of sadness once again.
"We met when were seven." You find yourself willing to open up. "He was in a fight with this... tall and chubby twelve year old boy. Ben was holding his own, which was pretty impressive. But his father used to beat into him a lot. And when it wasn't him, it was his mother. So he had to learn pretty young how to block a punch. But this fucking kid... he got Ben onto the ground, was just... going for him. Pummelling into his face, his stomach.
But he kept breathing, he kept blocking. Got a few good hits in himself until the boy lifted him a bit and slammed his head into the pavement. He went to grab this baseball bat... I don't know why I thought I could do it, but I couldn't see this kid get hurt anymore, not when he was so dazed and now I know, concussed. But I ran in and snatched the bat from his hand, and I just started... hitting him with it."
"Wow..." Hughie breathed out, a look of awe on his face.
"I mean, I didn't get out unscathed, he was able to give me a shiner, but I just remember screaming at him... 'Leave him alone! Leave him alone!' And I kept swinging that bat. Eventually hit him in the head and he got knocked out. Headmaster finally came out and saw this seven year old girl standing over two boys with a bat in her hand. Concluded I'd done it to both and starting yanking me to his office to get the cane.
Ben, all concussed and shit, got himself up and started tripping his way after us, saying I was only sticking up for him. Headmaster claimed he was lying, so took the both of us for a caning. That was when we became best friends."
"That's really sweet actually." Hughie said with a soft smile.
"Yeah... we went through a lot together." You said with a far away look on your eyes.
"What about your parents?" He asks.
You looked at Hughie, and something told you it was okay to share your story with him.
"My mother was a bitch, and my father was a bastard." You say coldly. "Both our parents were strict Irish Catholics... my father... well he was never a friendly man, but he got too friendly with me... if you will..." you say, flashbacks of your father hovering over you in the dead of night.
"Y/N..." Hughie's voice is full or sympathy, his thoughts clouded with that and anger as he reads between the lines of what I'm saying.
"You know it happens a lot more than you'd think." You mutter, Hughie remains silent, letting you work your way through it as he notices your eyes beginning to water. "It took about a year of friendship before Ben or I would sneak into each other's rooms. Whenever we did, it was the safest I ever felt. Was in his arms. One time, I was coming back into my bedroom window and I found my father sitting on the end of my bed with the broom in his hand."
You swallowed as your throat tightened even more.
"He beat me black and blue... broke the broom... broke my arm... I was sixteen at the time. Ben had left school and was working in a factory, but he used to always pick me up from school. When I wasn't there for him to walk me home the next day, he snuck into my room that night. Saw my father and saw me, bruised and bleeding... so he killed him."
There's a heavy silence for a moment as Hughie processes the information.
"What about your mother? Did she know?"
I scoff scornfully. "Oh yeah. She fucking knew. She was glad it wasn't just her anymore." You go to grab a cigarette, quickly lighting it and taking a long drag.
"So what happened...?" Hughie prodded gently, wondering about the police.
"We ran away." You blow out the smoke from your lungs. "Lied about our ages. Ben joined the army, I joined nursing school. World War Two broke out, eventually the States joined and they found Ben to be experimented on. We wrote letters every day to each other and eventually my head nurse came to me and said I was to report to a General who had me be experimented on too. Ben had said he wouldn't do it unless I would and he was their only remaining candidate. So they did as he asked. And the rest is history."
There was a knock on the door, before Ben's broad shoulders filled the doorway as he makes his way into the room.
"What are you two doing in-" he cuts himself off as he looks between the two of you, seeing sadness and the sole tear on your face. He shoots an angry look at Hughie. "What are you doing?" His voice changes to one of anger directed at Hughie. He knew the only other time you cried was when you spoke of your parents.
"I uh-" Hughie struggles to find a way to say anything before you speak up.
"We were just talking, Ben." You say sternly, looking up to him. "Give the kid a break." You send a message to him.
Ben looks at you, seeing that you’re serious.
"Butcher got some food." He grunts out, giving Hughie a warning look before walking back out the door.
Hughie audibly swallows, but not controlling his thoughts.
"You can't always help who you fall in love with, kid." You sigh heavily. He looks at you, shame on his face at being caught out. "Pfft, please... you're the not the only one who thinks he's a piece of shit. Trust me... he can be. He prefers people to think it... sometimes even I wish I didn't care for him considering what he's done to me, but... I'll always remember that seven year old boy." You take the last drag of the cigarette, wishing it was something stronger, before you put it out in the ash tray.
"I'm just not... used to how volatile he can be." Hughie says.
"Yeah... it takes some getting used to. But deep down... he's a big softy." You shrug softly.
"You've never been more with him?" He asks softly, knowing Ben has supe hearing. "More than friends?"
You look up at him, knowing the sadness was filling your face. You lick your lips, a tick you picked up from Ben when you were young.
"No. I've never told him how I feel." You swallow once again.
"He's pretty blind for a Supe." He offers gently as a way to cheer you up. His sweetness kind of works on you.
"Thanks, kid." You say as you walk over and pat him on the shoulder. He gives you a small smile. "You're one of the good ones. I hope you and Annie can work it out."
His face quickly morphs into one of shock. "How di-"
You cut him off with a tap to your temple and a grin on your face. "Remember?"
~~~~~~~~
"What other leads do we have on Mindstorm?" Butcher posed the question to the group around the dining table, but was clearly aimed at Ben and yourself.
"I know he bought some cabins back '81." Ben answers around a mouthful of burger.
"Cabins?" Butcher clarifies.
"Yeah, Mindstorm was always pretty paranoid." You say. "Wanted safe houses"
"Do you know any of the locations?" Hughie asked, pulling his phone across the table to him.
"I know a few in the state. He was starting locally." You said, eyeing him tapping away at his phone with his thumbs with slight confusion.
"I never understood why he bothered telling us locations. It's like the dumb fuck never understood the point of a safe house." Ben snickers. "But he only gave me a few in surrounding states."
"Let me get a pen, I'll write them down." You offer as you move to get up to search for a pad and pen.
"No need, Y/N." You look at Hughie, knowing it'd be hard for him to remember all the locations. He only wiggles his phone at you. "I'm writing it in a note on my phone."
You can't help the slight widening of your eyes in that same confusion from earlier before looking at Ben. You don't know what for... support in knowing you don't understand what is happening maybe?
"You're what?" You finally voice your confusion.
"Technology has come a long way, Y/N/N. They got GPS, internet, weefee, blue toes. All kinds of crap." Ben says with a very clear sense of self confidence.
You look at him even more confused.
"You made those words up." You narrow your eyes at him.
"I did not. Hughie, tell her." Ben gestures to you.
"I mean.. he got them half right..." Ben glares him. "Wifi and Bluetooth, but yeah, he's right. Technology has come a long way."
Ben and you give Butcher and Hughie the locations you can remember, before deciding Butcher would go out tomorrow and start scouting.
"Do you care for some company, Butcher?" You ask.
You don't expect a positive response, but just put out the idea because you didn't want to spend another day in the house where Ben was screwing Legend's staff. Luckily for you, Butcher doesn't disappoint.
"Um..." he looks to Hughie, seeing a small hopeful look on his face. "Yeah... yeah a'right."
"Leave bright and early?" You suggest.
"Sounds good to me, love."
Part 4
#the boys#soldier boy x fem!reader#soft soldier boy#soldier boy x reader#the boys fanfiction#soldier boy fanfiction#fanfic#the boys tv
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Project 1952: Day 60 Round Up!
First, here are some stats from days 31-60:
TV: I watched 72 episodes of TV, and 19 different shows. The total for all sixty days is- 129 episodes, 39 different shows!
Radio: I listened to 78 episodes, and 25 different shows. The total for all sixty days is 156 episodes, 37 different shows.
Film: I watched 30 films, 31 if you count the Westinghouse sales film Ellis in Freedomland. In total over the last 60 days, I've watched 59 films.
Magazines: I read 13 magazines, 7 different titles
Books: Still zero. I’m going to postpone reading books until after the project ends. For any kind of life balance, I just can’t do it right now. I don’t have the time. When I did project 1939, I only had radio to listen to/watch besides films. Now, with the addition of TV, it’s just too much.
Awards!
Best TV show: Of the new ones I’ve seen since day 31, it's gotta be What’s My Line? I look forward to every episode I watch.
Best Radio show: Again, counting only the new ones since day 31- The Chase. Honorable mention: NBC’s coverage of the Democratic National Convention.
Best Film: High Noon. Honorable Mention: Europa 51.
Best Magazine: Good Housekeeping
Worst Film: There haven’t been any atrocities like there were in the first 30 days, but I would say Son of Paleface and What Price Glory? are the two worst/least entertaining films on my list.
Worst TV: Maybe Guiding Light or Gangbusters?
Worst Radio: Honestly, I don’t know if I’ve listened to any new shows that are all that bad.
Surprises and Trends!
Biggest surprises about specific shows/episodes:
Esther Williams! I unexpectedly fell totally in love with her. She’s got it all- she's gorgeous, talented, and she’s got this certain grace and dignity about her. I also find her speaking voice soothing.
I could listen to 3 ½ hours of radio coverage of a political convention and be utterly riveted. Never would have guessed that!
The movie The Girl in White really surprised me. I expected it to be a saccharine melodrama, but it turned into a thrilling riveting story about a pioneering female doctor. It's the kind of movie that sticks with you so much, you tell your friends and family about it.
Biggest overall surprises/trends:
Vintage puzzles! I didn’t think I’d be able to find any reasonably priced puzzles from the 40s or 50s, but I have. Those Tuco puzzles are a joy to work with- the pieces are so thick and satisfying, and the colors are vibrant.
A Jello mold obsession re-occurring! But now that I’ve been sick, I can’t even look at most Jello molds without wanting to retch. Literally. I don’t know how many I can make from here on out.
I didn’t expect to get so wrapped up in the political landscape of 1952. It’s been fascinating to see the way both parties have changed in the last 71 years. Republicans boasting about their progressive ideas? Democrats fighting with segregationist racists within their own party? It’s trippy, man.
Unsurprisingly, the horrible way men talk to women has continued unabated.
The East Asian racism in media has toned down somewhat in what I’ve seen from day 31-60. It’s still disgustingly there, but it’s not nearly as ubiquitous as it was the first 30 days. I have no idea why- it could even be just random chance.
The group of people this time that have been the victims of the most overt racism are the Native Americans. All the sorry old stereotypes have been there, with a heaping dose of dehumanization.
Racism against African Americans has been more overt in these last 30 days. I’ve seen several of those stereotypes of stupid or childish black porters, elevator operators, servants, etc. It has surprised me just how awful the portrayals are. It’s everything you think of when you hear the name Stepin Fetchit or Butterfly McQueen. Even on The Beulah Show, which I think was created with good intentions, it’s noticeably bad.
There has continued to be almost no hint of gayness anywhere. This time, there was one “sissy” comedic role with undertones of queerness, but that’s literally been it. There was also an ad in the back of a magazine (in the cheap ads section) for some Gold Medal paperbacks, one of which was a lesbian pulp novel. It again gave hints as to what it was about, but it didn’t come out and actually say it.
Stuffed green olives! Apparently stuffed green olives were considered fancy haute cuisine by middle class folk, cause they put them in everything! In all the worst most stomach-churning places you can imagine! With salmon and celery soup! With mac and cheese! In lemon Jello with grapefruit! With a pineapple lime Jello dessert! It’s insane.
This project is getting to be hard. I didn’t expect to struggle so much to keep going, or even consider throwing in the towel. I’m not going to quit now, while I’m 2/3 of the way there, but this is a challenge in every sense! Being sick for a week and a half now has not helped, either, I know.
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Stick Shift
Summary: Rick thinks he freeing Y/n. Y/n thinks she's the problem.
Tags: Angst, No comfort, Age Difference, Reader is 25 Rick is in in 40.
A/n: This was when I was on my Walking Dead kick. Finally got it edited.
But today I drove through the suburbs
Crying 'cause you weren't around
You pulled into the post-apocalyptic suburbs; in a separate car than what Glenn and you left in. Your earlier pride of find and driving said care was gone. Now in it place was a numb type of sadness. It was stupid. You know that. Getting worked up over the fact you were driving a stick shift. All on your own. But Rick. Your boyfriend; ex-boyfriend now. He had been the one to teach you how to drive a stick shift. Before Virginia. When the group was still in the prison. When you were both still happy.
“Come on,” his southern drawl was clear as day. You let out a puff of air. Head pushing against the headrest. “This was your idea. You gotta confess something.” You started to hate that you suggested this game, but the drive was so damn long. You didn’t have the radio to help distract you. No, it was just you, Rick, and a long stretch of Georgia backroad. The former sheriff’s right hand shifted off the steering wheel. Moving carefully as not to catch your attention. You were still racking your brain for a secret to tell. Then a yelp left your mouth. You jumped in your seat making the older man laugh. Hand retreated to the wheel.
“That’s what you get for taking so long pumpkin.” He grinned; eyes shifted from the road onto you. A hint of playfulness in those ocean blue eyes.
“I was thinking of something!” You shot back making him chuckle before looking back to the road.
“There’s gotta be something you have never told anyone.”
“Well,” you hummed. Readjusting in your seat. “I don’t know if this would count because I’ve never told this to anyone in the group.”
“I’ll count it.” He glances at you quickly, still smiling. Which makes you smile.
“Alright. I don’t know how to drive a stick shift.” You feel the jerk was the car spot. Rick looked at you as if you just told him the undead are all gone. Eye full of disbelief.
“You’re joking.” He speaks after a beat and you shake your head. Nope, you couldn’t drive a stick to save your life. And with how the world was it just might. Rick took off his seatbelt as you questioned just what he was doing. “I’m gonna teach you how to drive stick. You might need it.”
“We are on a run.”
“Yep and this is the perfect time. Now get into the driver’s seat.”
Slowly you parked next to Glenn. Killing the engine you got out as Glenn moved over to your vehicle. He smiled at you. Today was a good day. Got more food, medicine, and another car. The possibilities for cars were endless. Used for parts. Set up at protection. Used as traps. Daryl Dixon the town resident mechanic would have a field day with this car.
“I’m gonna check in with Rick,” Glenn says. You see him playing with his wedding band. Maggie’s baby bump had started to show and Glenn didn’t like being away for too long. Patting his shoulder you speak.
“Go see Maggie and your baby.” You slammed the driver’s side door shut. The dark-haired man stares at you. Willing to argue with you on this.
“Really it’s-” You raised your hand stopping him.
“If you don’t go check up on Maggie. I will and I’ll tell her how you screamed like a girl.” His eyes widen at the threat.
“I didn’t know a group of bats would be in there!” He defended himself only making you grin at him. You both head away from the parking area. Back towards the stretch of cookie-cutter homes. You nudge his shoulder with yours.
“First it’s a colony of bats. Second, not only was the scream funny, so was your face.” You teased him. Glenn shoved your shoulder playfully. Before mumbling that he was going to check in with his wife. Leaving you with the task of checking in with the community’s newly appointed leader Rick.
Jogging onto his porch you knocked on the door. Eyes looking everywhere but the door until it opened. Sadly it wasn’t the male you were looking for. Carl greeted you with a soft smile. The bandages that once covered his right eye socket had been replaced with a custom-made eyepatch.
“Ahoy captain.” You tease the teenager who rolled his remaining eye. “Your dad here? Just checking in since Glenn and I got back.”
“Nope. Haven’t seen him since this morning.” Carl tells you, making you nodded. “When I see him…” He trails off because he knows you will just hunt his dad down. “I don’t know where he is.” He's lying. You know it. He knows that you know. But you just nod and quickly thank him. Tell him to kiss his sister for you before turning off the porch.
And you're probably with that blonde girl
Who always made me doubt
She's so much older than me
She's everything I'm insecure about
You know where Rick Grimes is. Feet carrying you down the still blood-stained street. Streets that just weeks ago were covered with the undead. You wave kindly to the people passing by. It is a mix of your group, older residents, and new people. You still feel out of place. Maybe you always will. Maybe you won't. You wonder quietly to yourself. A nice distraction. Because if you thought about where you were going. Where you had to go. You might just break. So you let your mind wander. Let your feet carry you to the destination. Everything seemed to be on autopilot. Until your using the knocker of the baby blue house. Her house.
“We should end this,” Rick says matter-of-factly. You stopped brushing your hair to look at him. He’s not facing you. Back facing you as he pulled his jeans on.
“What?” Maybe you misheard him. Maybe it was your ear playing a trick on you. Because Rick couldn’t be breaking up with you right now.
“We should break up.” He rephrases. The words take the air from your lungs. Your mouth opened to say words that your mind can’t even come up with. The silence in the room grew by the seconds. It finally became too much for the man as he turned to face you. Jeans zipped up but not buttoned. Belt lay next to his shirt on the bed but his eyes fell on you instead.
“Say something.” He requested of you softly. That same soft voice that he used when he said he loved you. Tears that formed in your eyes finally fell as you blinked. Once. Twice. Three times. Before you looked him in the eyes.
“Is it me? Did I do something wrong?” Getting shot was nothing compared to your question to him. Because he knew you honestly thought you did something wrong. You always doubted yourself. But you were perfect. So goddamn perfect. And amazing. And young.
“No sweetheart. It’s just…” He stops himself from going over to embrace you. Tell you to forget about it. Because this has to happen. You're 24. His 39. Even if the group. His and your family were ok with it. He heard the whispers around town. The other weren’t as supportive.
“I think we should end this. We had an amazing run. And you're young. You’re gonna find someone else that will love you more than I ever could.” He breaks his own heart with his words. Because he doesn’t want you to find someone else. He wants to be with you until the end. When and where ever the end was. But you deserve better. You deserve someone around your age. Not an old man with two children like him.
“I…” you stare at him. Cheeks strained with tears he caused. “I don’t want someone else.” You grab the comforter. It gets balled up as you tighten your grip on the fabric. Your mind running over everything you had done in the last weeks to get to the point. You had snapped at him a few days back because of Jessie Anderson. The blonde woman in her thirties that lived up the street. You didn’t hear what they were talking but her body language told you everything. She was flirting with Rick. And either he didn’t notice or didn’t care. Doubt played in your mind the whole day after seeing the interaction. Because Jessie was around Rick’s age. And you weren’t. You didn’t really have any life experience before the world ended. So it made sense if Rick preferred a woman his own age. As opposed to you, a 24-year-old kid in his eyes.
“I can get you a brownstone to stay in.” He said. Brushing off your comment. Which broke your heart even more.
The door opened showing the blonde that lived there. A smile and questioning look on her face.
“Is Rick here?” You asked, watching as she turned her head and yelling the man’s name into the home. He comes out from the kitchen; questioning who it was. The question dying in his throat when he saw it was you. Jessie excused herself leaving you and Rick alone. The former sheriff stepped onto the porch, closing the door behind him.
“Hey,” he gives you a tight-lipped smile. Which you return.
“Just came to tell you Glenn and I are back.”
“Right,” he nods. “You guys went on a run. Get anything good?” You nodded before listing off some of the supplies you got. Including the stick shift car. You heard him chuckle. Looking into his eyes you saw that same playfulness as the day he first forced you to drive a stick.
“You didn’t flood the engine this time right?” He teased and you scoffed, punching him in the shoulder.
“I was amazing.” You boasted. The older man stared at you and you swear you heard a quiet. ‘Ya, you are.’
“You don’t mind if I asked Glenn?” You roll your eyes but smile.
“Go ahead. He's gonna tell you the same thing.” He nodded. Hand going on his hips. You watch as he licks his lips. Your breath hitching as you feel your stomach twisting in knots. “I should go. Need a shower desperately.” You don’t wait for him to say goodbye or stop you. You're off the porch and down the road heading home in a few steps.
And all my friends are tired
Of hearing how much I miss you, but
I kinda feel sorry for them
'Cause they'll never know you the way that I do
Maggie can’t drink. But that doesn’t mean you and Sasha can’t. Sasha, Abraham, and Rosita had come back later in the day from another run. They had been the unlucky ones not finding much of anything. But Sasha apparently found some top-tier booze in a rundown bar. The trio split it up between them. So here you were. Snacking on fresh strawberries drinking booze that would have been at least $100 for a bottle; straight out of the bottle. The three of you resting against the metal wall that protected the town from the nasty world outside.
“So,” Maggie started as she threw a strawberry stem into a bowl filled with them. “Heard someone talk with Rick.” Sasha and her eyes went to you as you grabbed the glass bottle of auburn liquid. Taking a healthy swig you felt the burn as it went down. You were far too sober to be talking about this. Talking about him. Because no one in the group knew why you guys ended it. Just one day you were a happy couple and the next you were packing up and moving into your own brownstone. Sasha took the bottle from you, making you whine. As you tried to reach for it but the former firefighter held it out of reach. Her hand on your chest also keeping you away from it.
“You can get some when you tell us what happened.” She landed down the rule and it makes you groan as you move to lay against the wall. You don't want to talk about it. You just want to wallow and let the scar form on your heart in peace.
A crack of thunder sends the trio onto the back porch of Maggie’s home. Lucky for you guys because moments after; the dark clouds opened up letting down heavy droplets that ping off the porch’s roof. Sasha is distracted by the rain. Asking Maggie if the crops will be ok. Allowing you to snatch the bottle from her hand and take another big glug. The bottle is half gone now. And honestly so are you. The alcohol works fast as your brain starts to go fuzzy. Sasha takes the bottle back slightly annoyed. But it clear the break-up has been hard. So she lets it go.
“You got your drink.” She says putting the cap back on and sitting it to the side out of your reach. “Now tell us what happened.”
“I don’t know.” You sob. You weren’t normally an emotional drunk. But with everything going on with Rick. Tonight you were.
And I know we weren't perfect
But I've never felt this way for no one, oh
And I just can't imagine how you could be so okay, now that I'm gone
Maggie held you as you drunkenly cried. Sasha joined you on the other side, rubbing your back. You finally opened up about your breakup with Rick a month ago. You weren’t sure how much they understood because of the loud rain and your blubbering. But either way, they consoled you. Trying to help the only way they could. And the only way they knew how. Simply being there. Because for a month you kept this end. Kept this to yourself. So those outside of the group saw you were fine. The break-up didn’t seem to affect you. You carried on with work. Talked with Rick when it was needed. You acted fine.
But the group knew it. Of course, they knew. It was an act. Because they saw how you were breaking. How you had a longing in your eyes when the cowboy boots-wearing man walked by. The smile that rarely reached your lips. You were faking so much of your joy because your heart was broken.
“I just don’t get how he is so ok. Did I mean nothing?” The two women share a look at your question. Because they also know that Rick isn’t ok. Like you, he is acting. Because he is the leader and can’t break down. But the man isn’t ok. They don’t say that. Rick was the one that ended it. That was on him.
“I don’t know,” Maggie says softly as you rest your head onto her shoulder. “I wish I had the answer for you. But only Rick does.”
Red lights, stop signs
I still see your face in the white cars, front yards
Can't drive past the places we used to go to
'Cause I still fuckin' love you, babe
The street lights are now on. It’s still raining when you tell Maggie you were going home. Sasha and her try to get you to stay the night. Or at least until the rain lets up. But the rain isn't letting up. It was so heavy you could barely see a few steps in front of you. But you step off the back porch and disappear down the alleyway of the lined-up homes. You walk. Just walk because you don’t want to go home just yet. If you go home you’ll be lonely. And you don’t want that. Because for a month you have been lonely in that damn brownstone. Rick wasn’t lonely. He was with Jessie. His arms wrapped around her body. Damn your brain. Just because you didn’t want to be lonely didn’t mean you wanted to think about them together.
The rain started to ease up as you found yourself passing Rick’s house. The lights upstairs were on. As you quickly looked away from the cookie-cutter home. A shiver ran through you and shoved your hands into your soaked jean pockets. Maybe now was a good time to head home. You haven’t even turned when you heard your name being shouted over the rain. Looking back at Rick’s home you see him rushing off the porch and over to you. His dark brown jacket acting as an umbrella. He puts it mostly over you shielding you from the rain.
“What are you doing out here? You're going to get sick.” He frets because he knows how likely that is. Because after the rainstorm when the group was on the trek through Virginia you had gotten sick. “Come on.” He orders and you walk with him toward his house.
Sidewalks we crossed
I still hear your voice in the traffic, we're laughing
Over all the noise
You smile at him lightly as he places a cup of peppermint tea in your hand; you're favorite. You're in one of his white t-shirt and pajama pants. Your hair, no longer wet from the rain but a hot shower. The alcohol is still in your system. How much you don’t know.
“What were you doing walking in the rain?” He questioned taking the seat next to you. His own cup of tea in his hand.
“Was drinking with Sasha and Maggie.” You look towards him as his eyebrows knit together as the mention of Maggie and drinking. “Maggie was moderating us. She wasn’t drinking, come on. She knows better.” Rick nods bowing his head because he does know better to think that about Maggie. But his time as a cop taught him that some people just don’t care. Not about themselves. Not about others. And sure as hell not about kids.
“Where did you get the booze from? Daryl?” You snort at him before blowing on your tea taking a careful sip. Sitting the cup down you look back towards him.
“I ain’t no rat officer.” He chuckles. You both do. A little inside joke between you both. And then the silence fell. The awkward uncertain silence of two people who didn’t know what to say next. You chew on the inside of your cheek as you stare into the tea. Rain still going strong outside, trapping on the roof of your former home. Rick shifts beside you clearing his throat.
“Judy trying to walk.” It makes you smile a bit.
“That’s good. Soon she’ll be running over you and Carl.” The older man chuckles nodding in agreement but you don’t see it. Head still bowed. Turning your mug as you watch the tea shift with each motion.
“Seeing anyone?” He was trying to keep the conversation going. But there had to be another question to ask that wasn’t this. You still answer it by shaking your head.
“No. But you seemed to have moved on.” It has some bite to you. You're bitter. Of course, you are. The man you were in love with. Seemed to easily move on after he ended it. You lift the ceramic mug and take a huge glug of your tea. The warmth fills you but it’s not enough.
“Ya. Jessie, she’s…” He doesn’t know what to say. Jessie is ok. Good to have around. Doesn’t make him feel as empty. But she is just not you. All her touches. All her kisses. They feel off and he knows why. Because the hands touching him aren’t yours. Neither are the lips that kiss him. But Rick is stubborn. Even if it hurts you both, he knows you need better. You deserve the world and he just can’t give it to you.
“She’s perfect.” You looked at him. Sadness, rooted so deeply in your eyes. He wants to pull you into him. Tell you that he is sorry. That he will end it with Jessie. Come back to you. And try to make all of this right. But he already drew his line in the sand and he won’t cross it. Because the moment he touches you he knows it will be his undoing.
“She has her flaws. No one is perfect.” Except for you. He wants to add. He hears a quiet 'ya' then it silence once again.
God, I'm so blue, know we're through
But I still fuckin' love you, babe
You were gone when Rick woke up. His clothes lay on the guest bed since you were dried. He wondered just when you left. He wondered if you slept at all. Because he didn’t. Knowing you were in the house but not in his arms. He was restless the whole night. He sighs. Picking clothes up. It was sad that he hoped this wouldn’t be the last time. But it most likely was going to be the only time. Because how often are you going to walk in the rain drunk? He takes the clothes to the laundry room. Before he throws the shirt in the basket he lifts it to his nose. Inhaling the flowery body wash scent from when you shower last night. You must found where he hid the body wash you left behind.
“Hey, dad!” Carl called out from the kitchen forcing Rick to dump the clothes in the basket. Entering the kitchen he smiled at his son. Judith was already in her high chair waiting for breakfast. Carl stood at the counter. The box of peppermint tea in his hands. Shit. He meant to put that up. Carl’s eye shifts from the box towards the sink. Where the mugs from last night sat unwashed. Then the young man turns to his father.
“Y/n was here wasn’t she?” He questioned but it was really a statement. It is the only reason for this tea to be out with two mugs in the sink.
“Ya,” He replied, moving towards his son and taking the box of tea from his hand. The young man sighed watching his father place the tea on a high shelf so only he could get to it.
“Why?” Carl asked.
“It was raining-”
“No,” he cut his father off. “Why did you break up with her?”
“Carl,” Rick sighed. As he pinched the bridge of his nose. If he didn’t want to have this conversation with Daryl or Michonne. He sure as hell didn’t want it with his son. But like Rick the young survivor was stubborn. He stepped into his father's past every time he tried to move around him.
“Carl,” Rick warns but the boy isn’t back down.
“No. You were happy with Y/n. Happier than I have ever seen you. Even with mom. Even before all of this.” The boy gestures at nothing but Rick knows what he means by that. Because he didn’t want to admit it. But his and Lori’s relationship was at rock bottom before the world ended.
“So why? What happened?” Carl pressed, making Rick sigh. He wondered. Only for a second. If Michonne had put Carl up to his. But he shook that from his head. Michonne won’t do that. This is purely Carl. Because Carl loves you so much. The both of you had apparently clicked before Rick had gotten to the quarry. And that bond only grew over time.
“It’s complicated, Carl. Now please,” Rick needed him to down the subject. And the young boy seemed to understand but is still pissed. He turns from his father. Feet carrying the young boy towards the door. “Where are you going?” He called out.
“Out!” And the slamming door let Rick know that Carl was gone. He sighed.
He knew everyone would move on. You would. Carl would. He would. In the far future, all of this will be just a bad memory. But right now. In the present, it hurt so fucking bad. Tears leaked from his eyes as he sucked in air. He did it to himself. He deserved this pain. And if he could he would take your pain. Allow you to be happy. To find love in someone else better than him. Because you're one of the good things in this ugly world.
I know we weren't perfect but I've never felt this way for no one
#walking dead#walking dead imagine#walking dead x reader#rick grimes#rick grimes x you#rick grimes x reader#rick grimes x y/n#rick grimes angst
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slow dancing in the night
→ Pairing. Taehyung x reader
→ Genre. established relationship, fluff, slice of life, model!taehyung, model!reader, taehyung missed you a lot, he is starving (his words not mine), gets a bit hot by the last 40 lines, mentions of oral (f) so I guess this counts as mature content, implied smut, making out (kinda), there is a bit of swearing
→ Summary. what could possibly be better than coming home after a long day of work to someone you love and missed a lot ?
→ Word count. 3.2k (!!!)
→ because I wrote this over a year ago when I still didn't know what I was doing with my writing, I had to go through a deep process of editing and re-writing before posting it. This might not be my best work but it's still a fic that I really really like :,)
→ song rec. slow dancing in the dark, Joji// still with you, Jungkook
Fridays have always been exhausting days for both you and your boyfriend, especially on runways weeks. As models, you were put under a lot of pressure.
Pressure to be perfect, to smile but never smile too much, to look good, to not fall on stage.
Falling has to be the most tragic thing that can happen to your carreer as a model, the hungry stares of thousands of photographers and reporters ready to share the latest news to the press.
Yeah, it was exhausting.
This week was no exception... or maybe it was since, this time, you were the only one working until late.
It’s four in the morning and you’re already on your way out - kind of running late, oBviOusLy - quietly wishing your boyfriend a good day.
He is not working today.
That lucky bastard.
He gets to enjoy his free day in bed, lazing around, while you work your ass off all day. He mumbles something that you assume is a sort of goodbye. He is still asleep.
You look at him one last time before leaving the room and smile. He looks so peaceful.
You still remember the day you met, by pure luck even though you both call that fate. That was 5 years ago, when you just debuted your career as a model and were not that comfortable around high heels.
Okay no. Let’s be real.
You hated wearing them because you couldn’t walk in heels higher than 5 cm.
It’s still a wonder how you managed to make it in the first place.
Were you wearing flat shoes for the audition ? Damn you really must’ve done an impression on the judges if they made you pass without the heels try-on.
Your first day at the agency was chaotic to say the least. Your manager made you walk around the building, to visit she said. She made you wear heels. HEELS. That devilish person.
But, thank to that, you got to meet Taehyung. Your eyes landed on him as you were visiting the lounge and couldn’t tear them away from his figure. The poor man had to witness you fall down because you weren’t watching your steps anymore.
I mean.
Who could blame you ??
That was Kim frEaking Taehyung
!!!
He even came to help you get back on your feet and asked if you were alright, kind of amused.
It’s not everyday you see someone falling down in here, let alone a newbie
Let’s be honest, you were so embarrassed.
First day of work and you’re already failing falling.
That night when you came home, you spent the night wearing heels and prayed really hard you’d never have to face him again. After all, the building was big enough and there were enough workers that you could avoid Taehyung easily
If only
The NeXt day, you were told that you had a couple shooting, with none other that Kim Taehyung.
GreaT
He would occasionally tease you about your fall and check on you to see if everything was alright. He watched you carefully as you were walking around with heels.
From up close he looked even more handsome.... :)
After this day, you started talking with Taehyung more and more. He introduced you to everyone around the agency. You met outside of work, got to know each other. You both became regally good friends but there was something lingering in the air, in the way you’d look at each other or stood so close to him after a couple glasses of wine that you could breathe his air.
So what was bound to happen happened and you went from friends a to lovers without really noticing it.
He was still your best friend...somehow
Eventually, you took things to the next level and moved in together... maybe a half and a year ago or so ? You’ve never been happier in your life
And, well, you’d actually be happier if you could spend the day with boyfriend instead of running around trying to find god knows which accessories you need for the rehearsal.
8 in the morning is noT a time to be doing cardio.
Especially while wearing heels
Become a model they said, it’ll be fun they said
“Y/n! Come here please I need you to try on this dress before you go!” Your personal stylist calls “I made sure to fix it yesterday so it’d be a perfect fit for the show”
You stop your tracks and go to her “make this quick i have to go get changed before 9 otherwise I’m screwed. Why did they even decide to do the rehearsals so early today ?” You sigh, frustrated, and put on the dress she’s handing you “thank you”
“Okayyy...it looks great. Gold looks amazing on you.” She smoothes the dress and gives an approving nod, visibly satisfied ; “You’ll look perfect for the Grand Finale. Oh god it’s already 8:30 you better go before Mr.Kim throws a fit because you’re late”
You both giggle ; “thank you for fixing the dress Naeun, see you later today. Well, probably tonight. Byeeee”
The rehearsal seems to never end. You’re squeezed in dozens of different outfits, gorgeous for sure but sO tight. Mr. Kim, the one who organised the runway, is such a perfectionist that you have to re-do some things multiple times before he’s satisfied. One time the lighting isn’t right, the other the models are walking too fast, not on beat and so on.
Everyone hates him for that but he always makes the best shows so you just follow.
After multiple tries, the rehearsal finally comes to an end. It’s already 4PM. You barely get time to breathe and go pee before you’re back into the ‘running-around-to-find-my-dress-and-fix-my-makeup-oh-god-i-gotta-be-on-stage’ crazy mess.
Walking on the runway feels amazing, running backstage is terrible.
It’s so hot and small back there you can hardly move around well.
It takes 2 hours for the whole fashion show to be over, one more for pictures outside the catwalk and chat with reporters. Since you’re kind of a famous model now, you get invited to the afterparty and spend few extra hours interacting with some celebrities that attended the show. Other models were invited and you’re happy to see familiar faces amongst them. Jimin, an old colleague and friend of yours, comes your way and compliments you. You chat with him for a while before deciding you’ve had enough for the day and leave the party. A few more people greet you on your way out.
A taxi takes you back to you company, where you left your stuff in the morning. You spend an extra thirty minutes getting rid of your heavy makeup and striping off that gorgeous but awfully tight golden dress you’ve been wearing ever since the end of the runway.
Now, you can FinaLLy go home. yassssss
It’s almost 12am when you leave the agency and climb into yet another taxi. The ride is quiet, background music playing over the car’s radio, and you take some time to look at what you were gifted for your performance : fancy makeup products, accessories, pieces of clothing-but not those from the runway, you sadly never get to keep those. Being kinda famous has its perks :,)
You then decide it’s time to warn Taehyung you’ll arrive soon and send him a few texts. As if he was waiting for them, he instantly replies saying he’ll be waiting for you and proceeds to spam you with heart emojis. Sometimes, it looks like this man just discovered what emojis were and is trying to use them as much as possible. What a child…
It’s way past midnight when you finally step into your duplex and the first thing you notice is that the place is way too quiet.
Maybe Tae went back to sleep, who knows, it’s super late after all…
:(
You remove shoes and jacket and drop your bags in the entrance before going further and you call out quietly “anyone here? Tae, you sleeping?”
There is a faint glow from the tv on your right but the sound has been muted.
Weird…
“Taehyung ?" You call one last time
Suddenly, two strong arms wrap themselves around your waist and you’re pulled into someone’s chest. You gasp, almost scream, but soften up when you feel the warmth on your back
“Hi baby” a deep voice says in your ear, sending chills down your spine “I missed you”
You turn around and are very pleased to see a handsome face and a warm exposed chest your boyfriend smiling at you.
“Mhm, missed you too” You wrap your arms around him and rest your head against his chest, happy to hear his heartbeat. Taehyung places his head atop of yours and gently strokes your hair. You tighten your grasp around him and hum.
Few seconds later, he lifts your chin up and gently lays a kiss on your lips.
“How are you doing?” He asks, his right hand cupping your cheek. The warmth of it is comforting.
“Exhausted, but you know how it goes” You shrug and he smiles
“Not too tired for dinner ? I could cook something if you want”
“Mhm... let me just go shower and put something else on” You sadly let go of him
“Sure, go ahead” he whispers and you give him a kiss before regretfully tearing yourself away from him.
You walk up the stairs to your bedroom, where you find the bed undone. You smile, Taehyung never really liked making the bed and, very honestly, neither did you. You slump onto the mattress and bury your face into the pillows, inhaling his scent. Lavender. Relaxing. Just like he is.
After a warm shower, you find a t-shirt Taehyung left on a chair in the room and wear it. It’s big enough to reach your thighs and, if you were more energised, you’d probably stay like this. You grab large pants and put them on.
Once again, you smell lavender all around you.
When you’re back in the living area, you see Taehyung busying himself in the kitchen. He hears your steps and his eyes find yours as a smile appears on his face when he notices that you’re wearing his shirt
“My shirt looks better on you than it’d ever do on me” He teases, his gaze longing on your frame.
“maybe I should keep it then” you smile and ask ; ”Do you need any help?”
“no no no no no, you’ve worked enough already. Go and have some rest. I'll call you when everything’s ready okay?”
Too tired to argue on this anyways -and thankful for the given rest-, you go lay down on the couch, your body oriented to let you look at Taehyung.
As he hums and moves to the chill music that was playing in the background, you start to detail his beautiful figure. From the curl of his dark hair (which you knoW are so so soft to the touch) to his beautiful profile and his nose you love so much down to his broad shoulder and then his tanned abs you see from time to time when the opened shirt of his pyjama moves according to his steps.
oH! Let’s not forget his perfect hands gripping at the pan’s handle while he cooks… vegetables? Something like that yeah.
Taehyung is giving his best into what he’s cooking. Vegetables with rice, that’s the only thing he could do quickly.
Quickly as in less than half an hour, unlike his friend Namjoon who’d take this time just to cook the rice.
The music he put earlier is slowly starting to bore him. After washing his hands, he reaches out for his phone and plays a different playlist. It’s one you name yourself when the two of you were still friends (aka not dating yet). “Taetae fm” because you once joked he should have his own broadcasting channel on the radio. He’d always criticise the music playing so why not have his own channel 👀
“You know Y/n, I actually watched the fashion show live this afternoon. I mean, of course you know because I always do that haha. Anyways, you really were the highlight of the runway tonight. And I’m not saying this in a biased point of view. Okay I might be a bit biased as your boyfriend but I swear that it’s true!! You literally shone back there, especially in that gold dress you were wearing and even the audience was impressed by your looks maybe you didn’t see it on stage but some cameras filmed their reactions and everyone was looking at you. Really, you were so gorge-oh” Taehyung looks at you and smile fondly “Of course you’re asleep, baby”
He lets his phone aside and checks the now cooked food before making his way to the couch. There’s a blanket on the sofa, he covers you with it, scared you might get cold. Taehyung put a loose strand of hair behind your ear and places a kiss on your chin.
You slowly open your eyes and find yourself face to face with him. You both smile.
“Hi there beautiful” He whispers
“what time is it? Did I sleep until the morning?” You’re scared of having slept through the entire nap without realising
“almost 1:20am, I just finished cooking. I thought you might be cold so I went to cover you with the blanket. You should go enjoy the food while it’s still hot, imma go to the toilet”
You nod as an answer and watch him leave upstairs. Getting up from the warmth of the couch is the hardest part so you keep the soft blanket draped around your shoulders and walk towards the kitchen. You grab two bowls and two pairs of chopsticks that you place on the counter along with glasses and a bottle of water.
You then go take care of the rice and the vegetables, which you mix in the pan. The song playing changes and your favourite nighttime tune starts.
“I don’t want a friend, I want my life in two” you sing along
“Waiting to get there, waiting for you” Taehyung’s voice startles you as he grabs your wrists and pulls your back close to him. You smile as he makes the both of you dance slowly. You put his arms around you so it’s like he’s hugging you from the back. You swing around for a little while, enjoying the close proximity as you both softly hum the song, making your body vibrate against each other, moving in perfect coordination.
“I love you” he whispers in your ear and then kisses it, sending chills down your spine, before lifting one of your arm up to make you turn so that you’re now facing him “did my baby sleep well?” You nod as you place your arms around his waist, paying attention to go under the shirt so you’re touching as much skin as possible.
Taehyung chuckles before asking you in that same, chill-sending, low deep voice ; “Still hungry? Because I’m starving”
If you didn’t just wake up, you would’ve definitely caught that lust in his eyes and also the fact that this wasn’t as innocent as it seemed.
As an answer, your stomach growls pretty loudly, making Taehyung laugh . “I’ll take that as a yes. Sit down, princess. Let me take care of you”
You do as he says, jumping on a stool, detailing all of his moves. You only realise how hungry you actually were when you start eating. Rice with vegetables has never tastes better. You eat everything in less than 5 minutes when you’d usually take your time to finish your plate.
“Damn, that was a well needed dinner! Thank you Tae” you mess a bit with his soft locks
“Imagine me who was waiting for you all evening!! I was hungry too” He pouts.
“Oh come on, I was working today. Cardio in heels isn’t the best way to wake up, let alone spend the whole day standing in tight clothes. When I think you has a day off… pfff. I saw the bed, I’m sure you stayed there all day, you lazyyyyyyyyy ass.”
He mumbles some gibberish and you giggle, knowing that you're right. He looks away, crossing his arms and obviously sulking. You leave your stool and stand behind him, wrapping your arms around his neck. You leave a few kisses on his cheek and neck
“- Don’t be such a babyy. You know I love you.
- You do?
- of course, you dummy” you bop his nose "Sooo, what do we have for desert?
- You. Uh I mean!! Yoghurt, fruits, cakes, fruits…anything” he clears his throat
“Great! What do you prefer?” You open the fridge
“ I’d very happily eat you out honestly but an apple sounds good”
“Oh sur- wait whaT!?” You snap your head to him, eyes wide open
what did he sayyyyyyyy?????
whaT am I even supposed to say noW oh my goddddd
You close the fridge’s door, suddenly not so yogurt-hungry.
There’s a sudden silence between the two of you, only disturbed by the music still playing in the background.
“Mhm? What is it?” He turns around to face you, asking so innocently “did I say something wrong ?”
This man knows what he is doing for sure. Has he ever been that straightforward before ?
Taehyung stands and closes the distance between your bodies, now towering over you.
He lowers himself slightly to speak in your ear “what is it baby? Mhm?” You feel his smile on your cheek when he lays a kiss on it “what happened to my all proud and fierce y/n who was so confident telling me I was being lazy all day, huh? Tell me” He lays another kiss on your temple
OkaY
now he’s being a tease
Great
1 A.M. fluffy and bare chested teaser Taehyung
gReAT
Anyhow, it’s a good turn on.
Really.good.freaking.turn.on
Being tired and turned on was definitely not a good mix for you. You could feel the heat rising in your body and hear your heart pounding in your ears.
“Tae…”
He laughs gently seeing you silently begging for more, brushing your face with his lips, teasing another kiss.
“Tsk tsk, you gotta speak darling, I cannot guess”
You should calm down and go to sleep, it’s 1am and you have work tomorrow you should definitely-
“Fuck-“ You sigh and grab his face, sealing your lips together while closing your eyes.
It doesn’t take long for that kiss to turn into a heated make out session.
You grab and pull some of his dark curls while his hands travels under his your shirt.
You break the kiss just a second to catch your breath.
“Have i ever told you you have the perfect body?” Taehyung asks
“Did I ever tell you how perfect you are??” You reply
He laughs, deep raspy laugh.
You’re too tired for this
And because you’re tired, you’re even more horny :D
Taehyung puts his hands behind your thighs and you jump, locking your legs around his waist, hands still in his hair, lips against his while carries you to the bedroom.
He leaves your lips to travel down your jaw and then collarbone. You throw your head back.
Taehyung gently lays you on the mattress of your king sized bed and makes it his personal mission to pleasure you tonight.
#taehyung fics#taehyung fanfic#kim taehyung au#taehyung fluff#bts fanfic#taehyung#taehyung ff#fluff#implied smut#model taehyung#bts fics#taehyung oneshot#taehyung one shots#taehyung one-shots#taehyung smut#kim taehyung x reader#taehyung au#it's 2am what am I doing#slow dancing in the night
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Clumsy
Summary: Serendipity, it’s the only way Steve can describe it. His ma was right: he’d always been slow.
Pairing: Steve Rogers/Reader
A/N: Fluff with a tiny sprinkle of Steve angst because I love one sad boi. Written for @wkemeup‘s 4K Challenge like an entire year ago!! I’m so sorry, Kas!! The prompt was Bright Eyes’ “First Day of My Life”. 2.8k words.
It was supposed to rain.
Thunderclaps rolled in the distance all morning. Moisture hung heavy in the air and the earth smelled like wet already--- salty, thick, sweet. The app on his phone blinked gray clouds straight across the screen. Seventy-three degrees and a nine-five percent chance of precipitation. Winds NE 20 miles per hour.
But at 2:30 in the afternoon when Steve slides into the car, it’s clear and blue.
So he figures it’s coincidence and poor meteorology when the engine quietly rumbles to life. He fixes the collar of his shirt, checks for hotels around the midway point, and sends an uneasy look to the empty passenger seat.
Then, he makes his way to where you are.
-
The two-lane country road stretches on. Winding and curving, pitch-black and howling with wind and wildlife. Bugs splatter on the windshield and he mechanically sprays a bit of fluid, wiping them off, the squeaks giving his radio a bit of rhythm in all this late-night talk. It’ll be another half hour before he gets to the hotel and he’s still wrestling with himself if he should even break.
No reason to now. He can drive all night. No reason to other than his pride.
“So what is it?”
There’s an imprint in the seat. An outline of a warm body folding soft creases in the leather. Late night talk radio fizzles out, and he’s tired, so he can’t get too upset at his brain for seeing the shape even though it’s been months since anyone’s sat there.
He chances a look over, then quickly back ahead because sure—the sedan is small, but this tiny strip of pavement feels even smaller. Too right and he’ll careen into the woods, too left and if another car’s coming around the bend Steve would roll out alive, but he’d be the only one.
He looks again.
Legs folded. Bare feet. Ankles crossed on the dash. Casually sitting with one hand on your phone and the other one behind your head, face lit incandescent by the screen. It was the first time he’d been alone with you after New York; he remembers this.
You hadn’t even given a glance sideways at him, still fixed on the screen, thumb sliding up and focused on mission details in a perfect picture of indifference.
“Your whole thing. Mister Red-White-and-Broody, most eligible bachelor in all of America—which, by the way, is so far up your ass all fifty states might as well be coming out of your mouth—”
“Stop it.”
“Okay, Rogers.” A smirk. His last name slipping between your lips like military title. “Fine, you’re all gilded in the front, suffering in the back. So—” You turned finally, pulled your feet back and tucked them under your body, “What is it?”
Steve pretended to think, left hand clenching a fraction tighter on the wheel, feeling its strength beneath his grip. His face remained impassive and dedicated forward, turning the seconds in his head, counting down the appropriate time for his reply.
It was a game, certainly. Your assertion, your poise, hand propping up your head—all of it. Your entire being was a foil to one Steven Grant Rogers and he was strapped with you for half a week. Already the car ride was beginning to foreshadow what was quickly seeming to be a long assignment.
“It’s my job—”
“So weak.”
“I’m busy—”
“Are you even trying to lie?”
You were known to do this: lay out a path of questions that only gave your company the pretense of a genuine conversation. You’d lead them like a wrangler leading horses to water, knowing they wouldn’t drink, but giving them just enough time to stare at their own reflection in the pool before you’d yank the harness elsewhere.
It was always a short path, but what you lacked in subtlety you made up for with honesty.
Agitated, Steve snapped before he could rein himself back in.
“What are you, my psychologist?” Horse.
“You don’t have one. You are the only Avengers Tower resident who has run off every psychologist on Stark’s payroll. So--” a twist of your torso, your back pressed up against the door handle as you stared at the outline of his side profile. Wrangler.
The question dangled in front of his gritted teeth. The answer he’d known long ago was behind two perfect calcium rows, pressed up, trying to find its way through the cracks.
What’s your thing? We fought together. We live together. We suffered a cataclysmic event in the form of aliens together---so why doesn’t anybody know you?
You leaned forward, body tilting until it almost touched your former footrest. Your head sloped to find his face and when he flicked his eyes sharply to yours, Steve knew it wasn’t sharp enough.
“You don’t want to be vulnerable.”
You’d led him through the brief route of your inquisition and had seen all you cared to see. Your voice bounced off the window when you closed your eyes and turned away.
“Steve,” you sighed, mouth going to the side in a smile. “Vulnerability is clumsy, but it’s the only thing worth anything.”
He had thought: No, it isn’t. He’d spent too long being vulnerable already, and he couldn’t afford it again. Twenty years of a miserable half-life and seventy years of sleep and suddenly the world was new and different and strange. Coming back into his body was new and different and strange but it was the body that afforded him invulnerability.
Mostly, anyway.
Steve decided, then, at least he could make up for that lump of mortality—that lump of weakness—with performance.
So, he became the blacksmith to his feeble Brooklyn boy heart. Forged carbon steel, gold-plated, immaculately polished like his own shield at press conferences. Smoothed himself into a monumental display of impeccable posturing and hid the boy away where no one could reach him. Let him go back to sleep, too. Frozen in a time long passed, long forgotten.
He wasn’t Steve Rogers anymore because no one knew Steve Rogers anymore; it was the only way he could carry on. Didn’t you know?
No, he supposed, you didn’t.
On the ride back you surrendered yourself to the backseat, laying down in the most comfortable position the sedan would allow, and chatted his ear off the entire ride home. Called him Steve and looked at him through the rearview mirror. Eyes met eyes, and yours crinkled at the edges with some secret knowledge.
By the end of it, all he could think about was how he didn’t mind the conversation and that his first name even sounded a little nice coming out of your mouth.
You shimmer in the passenger side until your hair hangs a little longer. His brown leather jacket is around your shoulders. A stretch of your arms. A stretch of your lips. Months passed and Rogers befell the man you knew during the Manhattan Crisis while he became Steve.
Steve on missions and in the field—On your six, Steve! Keep up, old boy. Steve at the tower and Steve in the gym— don’t touch my weights, Steve, you’ll throw your back out.
Steve getting the door and pouring the whiskey and letting you wear his jacket when you were cold. Finding you across rooms at parties because there was an easiness to your presence that calmed the crowd. Shooting pool and watching movies. Up late and out late and laughing until the early hours.
He was Steve, your friend, because he finally allowed himself to have a friend.
You change. Shimmer again until your hair is pulled back from your swollen face. A hospital gown crinkled around your shoulders. Asleep, cold. Too close to death, too close to him. He couldn’t even sit by your bedside, only standing by the door, shuffling from one wall to the other and watched the monitors with a too-loud and static-filled brain.
He was hesitantly Steve when you stepped too close to him on the balcony nights later, hand precariously hovering over that fragile boy heart, finally pressing down on it, feeling his delicate pulse thawing and crawling towards you. Tipsy smile and you tasted like whiskey and easy joy.
The kiss was clumsy, like you’d said. Vulnerability threw him back to the 40’s, all gangly limbed and ill, his lungs malfunctioning, his breath smothered in his mouth. He stumbled, but the banister held him up.
You didn’t mind that his knees felt boneless. You chalked it up to too much drink, but the touch of your still-bruised cheek abruptly burned down his throat—warm and smooth and cataclysmic until he caught sight of the way you winced as his hand cupped your tender face. Steve stepped back, then, and apologized for what he said should have never happened.
There was a small quiver from your shoulder before you quietly went back inside.
He cursed himself on the balcony. Cursed letting it all happen in the first place. Captain Rogers watched your retreating steps, burying the spark and the fire. And the boy must have cried in his ice-block coffin when he buried him again, too.
“Don’t look at me like that.” God, he’s going crazy. Poor night-vision and an addled brain causing him to scold an empty seat. “You stopped talking to me.”
His grip on the steering wheel tightens the way it does when you’re too deep in his head and he can’t get you out. Days without hearing from you smeared together in careful steps of a cagey dance. Comments always presented as half-truths—riddles he struggled to deconstruct. Breadcrumbs never leaving enough of a trail to lead him anywhere. He wants the harness back. Wants back your confident hand.
“You could have said something.” Steve scoffs, because you always had something to say. “Anything. You could have said anything. We were—friends.”
And hell, doesn’t that sound stupid out loud? Maybe it’s best that he’s got nothing but infinity beyond the sedan’s glaring brights and a million thoughts of unsaid words. It’s all useless, anyway. Best that he can get it all out now, talking to your ghost. It keeps all his thoughts in his head and keeps him from yelling every time he sees you not-looking, not-smiling, not-talking to him.
Steve flicks the wipers on again. Shuts off the radio. Shuts off the navigation. Takes the car off cruise-control to give himself something to do. He’ll stop overnight, after all.
Suddenly then, in the distance, two glowing eyes greet him steadily. Measured paces, in a firm and crisp trajectory, growing closer and closer. Glaring and vivid, beating the monotonous grind of nighttime out of him. His pinky moves, and his high beams flip to low beams, white giving way to yellow and the glistening road signs and tree-shadows in the distance slowly diminish.
Bleached spectral glaring of leaves and road signs soften ochre and brown, indigo dark. For a fleeting moment, even Steve’s enhanced eyes feel half-blind again as he readjusts to the pitch-black night barely lit. The car coming toward him does the same, highs blinking low and they pass each other in quiet understanding. In blind trust on the dark road, dependent on each other’s good faith to see it through.
He thinks of Sarah Rogers in a tiny Brooklyn kitchen, floral wallpaper yellowed and peeling behind her. One hand on an apron-clad hip, cooking interrupted by her son stumbling in dripping blood down his shirt, her other hand clenched around a wet kitchen rag.
“Steven Grant Rogers! Oh—wretched! What else can I say,” she’d sigh as she pressed it to his nose, “You do whatever you please, anyhow. You just put this on your face—and don’t think it’ll get you out of doing the dishes, either.”
“But—” he’d attempt.
She’d put up her hand, “Lord have mercy on any young woman that’ll have you. May she have your poor mother’s patient heart.”
His ma always called him slow. A dolt through and through. Quick to temper, but laborious to do much else. Common sense always took its sweet time-- took the long path home to get to Steve Rogers. In seventy-odd years, he hasn’t changed.
Better than coincidence and better than poor meteorology. Serendipity. It’s the only way he can describe it.
Like finding a crumpled up twenty in his pocket—or in his case, a five—enough then for a week’s worth of meals. Like having that nightmare— the one right before the plane crashes and instead of going down with it, he wakes up. Like expecting to drive five hours through a storm and stopping overnight, but instead it’s clear and blue as far as he can see.
The rush, the relief, the deafening joy that shuts everything else up and out.
Sarah Rogers was right: he’d always been slow.
So he careens back onto the highway from the service road, steadying his foot on the pedal and flies about fifteen miles faster than the speed limit says he should. The car is vibrating to a thrilled beat inside his chest. Steve can’t help smiling.
-
It was supposed to rain. All the way to the next mid-morning but the sky parts a brilliant orange sunrise and he nearly sprints to the door. He doesn’t wait for it to open all the way before he barrels in. A sliver of parting wood is enough, and Steve throws it wide with his enormous shoulders, kicking it shut firmly with his boot.
The imprint of your body on the couch is still warm—you, halfway across the room in alarm—real and even warmer when Steve gathers you into his arms. He’s been awake for over 24 hours, talking to himself, talking to your hallucination, so he apologizes when his teeth click against yours in a frantic kiss.
“Rogers--!”
You pull away, dazed, a little bit pissed off, but you cow the swirl of emotions into professionalism. “What are you—you’re not supposed to be here until late—did you drive through--”
“Steve,” he interrupts, “Steve.”
He’s so tired of the long road. Can’t stand another second of maneuvering in the dark down winding paths or broken streetlight avenues you’re not at the end of so he keeps his next phrase short: “I really like you.”
You raise your brow and brush the back of your knuckles over your lips, the light from the balcony streaming over your face. His hand tenderly brushes your cheek, the same one he touched all those months ago and you blink in surprise. Quick, calculating movements even as you lean gently into his touch.
“Steve…” you say slowly before your mouth pinches together in a poor attempt to hide the smirk threatening to surface. “You drove all night to… ask me to call you Steve.”
“Well,” he shrugs, “And the mission.”
“Right, the mission. The debrief didn’t mention that it required a lot of… kissing.”
“It came up recently; I haven’t adjusted the file yet.” He grins at your rolling eyes, your swollen lips peeling back to reveal a joyful display of teeth at his stubborn defiance.
“Took you long enough,” you mumble.
You place your hand over his chest, over his heart.
You kiss him and Steve hears himself sighing into your mouth. His cheeks flush with embarrassment, but you’re not letting go, and he presses his lips to yours a little slower, a little firmer, learning the ways you like to feel him there.
“Steve,” you breathe, and it paints him in the most galvanized care. “Steve,” you say again, and his eyes slip shut, like he’s being laid to rest. And maybe he is. Finally weary of lugging around all his armor, all his pretense.
The boy emerges, thawing toward his name held sweetly in your mouth.
He fumbles with his awkward limbs—a newly birthed foal trying to find its footing—but you’re patient and enduring. He takes in his trembling body—knobby knees and gangly elbows. Inept gait still learning how to be. He takes the sights—white casting over the balcony. You, even brighter.
It was supposed to rain, but you link your fingers through his, leading him toward the open doors, smiling against a backdrop of sherbet swirls. He stumbles, but you’ve got him. A few short steps, just a few more, and Steve kisses you again in the sunbathed daybreak, resurrected and anew.
#marvel#fanfiction#steve rogers#steve rogers x reader#reader insert#steve rogers x you#steve x reader#steve x you#steve rogers imagines#fluff#angst
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Pop Songs
Summary: Shitty pop music is a comfort in the No Man’s Land.
a/n: New Year, new characters. Here is my attempt in writing Oracle Babs. This is set during No Man’s Land so her characterization is Pre New 52.
warnings: references to violence and possible me and Babs wanting to murder reader
The clock tower hummed in a concerto of electricity and sparks, circuitry and wires fanned out on the floor like spilled gore. Smoke weaves through the air as you work with a soldering tool one of Babs's agents found for you and left at the base of the clock tower. Walking up and down 40 floors was no cakewalk but it was worth it given how much easier it is working with it. As a bonus, they found the correct transistor and now you can finally repair the radio. It had been out for a week and honestly, you missed the crackling from the radio.
You flatten your back against the wheel of Bab's chair, the non-hot part of the soldering tool between your teeth. You hear Babs chuckle behind you and your chest flutters and your cheeks heat.
You elbow the chair lightly and Babs rolls her eyes turning back to the computer. Still nothing from Batman.
You glance at the screen and wonder what emails from Batman would look like. Does he sign it with a bat? You've never met the guy personally and you honestly don't want to. You like your nose intact but if Babs would let you, you'd like to lodge a formal complaint with some strong words. You know he's not the authority over the rats in the city but you're not exactly sure who is and he's the closest to who you think would be. The point is you're very tired of repairing wires.
You listen to the clack of keys clashing with the hiss of the soldering tool, the rhythm lulling your nerves to ease. It was a quiet day in No Man's Land. Rare which makes it even more unnerving. Probably why you agreed very readily to helping Babs repair her radio despite having to sneak past approximately two gangs and 4 rabid raccoons.
"Have you found Doritos?" Babs asks.
"Dunno, did you find Batman?"
"Clearly, one of us has better priorities."
"And the other one has more realistic expectations."
"Which one is which?"
"Batman is clearly more feasible than Doritos."
Babs blows a breath between her teeth but the smile on her face is infectious and you swallow hard to keep the heat from your skin. You look back down at the radio and smile down at it. Babs ruffles your hair and you all but swat her away.
After another round of keystrokes, Babs looks back down at your hunched form. She leans in, playing with your hair. Her fingers thread through your lock, gently weaving through the strand. The pressure and movement are soothing, if not a little distracting. You let your eyes slide shut for half a second, feeling the tips of her fingers graze over the nape of your neck in warm broken lines. "(Y/n), I could just get someone to find a new radio."
"And give poor Cass more work?" That and no excuse to stay near you.
"Cass will work something out," she chuckles.
"I almost have it," you whine, soldering one last wire in. Her fingers feel nice on your skin. What you don't know is that Babs is tracing over the scar radiating from your back. It branches and coursed out like tree branches. You never explained what happened but Babs knows it's from an encounter with one of the gangs, the LoBoyz or the Street Demons.
The fizz of the soldering iron is replaced with the crackle of music as it streams out the radio. It's something poppy and 80s or something in that neighborhood. You let out a little noise of triumph and turn to her with a big goofy smile. Babs smiles back softly, her heart bubbling with warmth.
The tune glitters in the dim room. You two let the music writhe and smoke in the air, the crackle of static adding to the texture of the music. The bubbly beats worm through you. Babs taps to the beat. The wretched lyrics making you both laugh and sing like teenagers high on adrenaline. You're pretty sure you've both gone insane.
"Shit, you're still terrible at singing," Babs laughs at you. She curls in on herself, the laughter making her stomach hurt. You slap her arm. "You're even worse!"
"Am not!" She shoves playfully.
"Babs, no one is worse than you. Period."
Babs snorts, her nose scrunching and showing off her freckles.
"Damn, I can't believe I'd miss shitty music," you squeal.
Babs licks her lips. "You wouldn't need to if you—"left when you had the chance. She bites her lip watching the high fade from your features. The creases of laughter on your face smooth over with confusion then wrinkles as her unspoken words sink in.
Your eyes lower to the radio in your lap. "I wanted to keep you company ‘til the storm blows over," you flicker your gaze up. "Besides, I wanna be the first one to take you out on a date when the restaurants open again. If— If you want."
Babs stares at you with an unreadable and you want to hurl yourself out the window in the next three seconds. She buries her face in her hands, her face and ears turning a shade of red brighter than her hair. It's cute and you almost forget your own embarrassment.
"You're such a dork," she sighs. "How do I keep attracting dorks?"
"Like calls to like?"
"Oh don't talk to me about physics right now."
"But we are talking about attraction," you grin, your confidence building, "besides, that was chemistry which we have. "
"God, you're just as bad as Dick," she groans, unable to hide her smile.
"You say that like I wouldn't take it as a compliment," you laugh, resting your cheek against the armrest of her chair. "Besides, like I said before you're worse, Ms. I'll-just-leave-notes-in-people's-things-like-a-middle-schooler."
Babs face crunches and it's your turn to snigger. She looks so cute when she hates you. She straightens up and looks down at you like she's going to break your nose. You laugh even harder.
"Ok, so you don't like them," she huffs.
The color and laughter fade from your face. "Well, I didn't say that. Babs, c'mon."
She hums, not listening to you, trundling away from you.
You give her that big puppy look and oh god, she has a type. She sighs. "Fine and also yes, when we get out of this, you're allowed to treat me to the fanciest restaurant. No holding back. Deal?"
The smile on her face grows as the kinetic energy from your own sparks through the air and tugs at her lips. You cheer silently, letting the stupid pop song play on in the background, the chorus swelling along with your heart.
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Bad Timing I
A/N: This is you and your ex, (Detective) Harry, winding up in each other’s lives again after a traumatic event in your life. I’ve had this idea in my notes app for like a year, and I just decided to go for it this week! It’s a little all over the place as I set it up but I think the next part will go a lot better if you can stick with it (and I appreciate you if you can <3).
Warnings: Violence (guns), PTSD?
Part 1 / (.5) / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4
------------------------------------------
I had booked Thursday and Friday off in advance. I made sure my e-mails were forwarded, my clients were told I wouldn't be in, and any internal matters were allocated to my assistant. It was going to be a relaxing long weekend where I could have a homemade meal for once and watch Netflix all day. I was my branch’s youngest director and even though it was a fulfilling job, I hadn't had a day off since I got the position four months ago.
This was probably why, at 9am, I get a call from my assistant. One of our bigger clients was refusing to discuss his loan terms with anyone and wanted to speak to me directly.
"Tell him I'm not in Adam, you shouldn't even be calling me-I have the bloody day off."
"Yess but he said he's coming in at 10 and if you're not here he's switching banks for his personal and business accounts." Adam stuttered. “If you lose this client H-”
"Jesus," I look at my outfit and the time-I barely had any time to make it to the bank; it took me 40 minutes just to get to work. "I'll be there-distract him if I'm late. Oh! Ask about his daughter's new private school!"
I rush to my room and apply minimal makeup, pull back my y/h/c hair and throw on my black cigarette pants and a blazer. I'm halfway down the lift when I realise I was still in my t-shirt. "Shite," I mutter. I button the blazer and put my scarf around my neck so it's covered. That was decent enough for my day off.
I arrive breathless and sweaty 5 minutes early to the bank despite the cool weather. Might have seemed like a win if that wasn’t when everything went downhill. Just as I walk up to the side door, waving at Adam who was walking out to greet me, a crash from the entrance startles me.
"Hands up!” A loud voice booms from behind me. “Don't touch a fucking thing!" I turn, seeing Adam’s shocked expression, just in time to be shoved to the floor by four people dressed all in black, and wearing celebrity masks. In all my time working here, I’d never been part of a bank heist and some part of me is frozen, mind blank. I wasn’t even supposed to be here!
"I said to put your hands up!" The one with a Brad Pitt face points the gun around the room as people scramble for cover. I inch backwards to the counter as I watch them manhandle the customers and pull our bankers to the floor. I release a breath, trying to snap out of the shock I seemed to be in. The base of a column digs into my back and I focus on that to ground myself, scanning each robber, and where my employees were. Adam has his hands on his head, the closest one to me. I try to catch his eye to reassure him but he’s squeezing them tight. I didn’t blame him, Brad Pitt stands over him menacingly. I look to the customers, they weren’t trying to be smart--that was good. I’d watched enough TV to know that was never a smart move.
Just as I think that, from the corner of my eye, I catch Cole, one of our guards reach for his gun. A loud shot echoes through the small space and I swivel my head trying to see what's happened while making sure everyone was okay. The thief wearing a Kanye West mask, manning the front entrance of the bank, had shot Cole in the arm and he was bleeding all over the floor. My first instinct is to help him but I'm yanked back down before I make it a step.
"We’re not missing the next person who moves a muscle. I want you all to drop your phones in the middle! No. Fucking. Funny business." The thief who shot Cole points his gun to all of us and it takes all of me to not hyperventilate. I hear a few people crying but I don't dare look. Instead, I watch on as David Beckham drags Cole to the side and ties his hands behind him. I can see by the wincing that they didn’t care whether they twisted his arms too hard. This wasn’t a petty robbery, they were hardcore.
"Who has the passcode to the vault?" Brad Pitt asks as one of his friends goes around zip tying everybody's hands behind them. When nobody answers he shoves the gun in Adam’s face and I let out a sob. What did we do to deserve this?
"Me," I choke out. “Don’t hurt him, I have the passcode. I know it.”
"You?" The man asks. "You better not be lying bitch or you'll be joining your friend there."
I nod as he pulls me up by the arm and uses my scarf to tie my hands. I try to stay calm, the only way I could get through this before the police arrived was to keep my calm. Everything in me is screaming to do something--fight, scream, swear, cry, but I keep my mouth shut and follow Brad Pitt and the joker to the back. I'm led at gunpoint to the vault and they untie me so I can put in the code and my thumbprint. The one in a Joker mask presses her gun into my back and I know the least of my worries was a bruise but that was the only thing I could focus on.
She shoves me forward when I pause, hovering my finger over the finger pad, in the distance I hear sirens. Please let us all be okay, I pray.
"Don’t be a fucking hero, let’s go!" The female behind me yells in my ear and I rush to press my thumb.
As soon as I finish the procedure, I feel an explosion like fireworks against the side of my head and everything goes dark.
H POV:
I walked into the station around 10, just having come back from a nearby escalated domestic call. It wasn’t the craziest thing I’ve ever been involved in at 10am on a Thursday morning.
"Harry, there seems to be some sort of commotion near Holborn, the director wants you in his office." Serena, the receptionist tells me gravely. I don’t even consider the street, assuming it would be another criminal to go after. But when I go into the office, we get the rundown: there was a robbery happening at the HSBC. That’s when I understand the gravity of the situation.
"We’ve sent a few men right now, they seemed to be armed so proceed with caution." He warns. I had been on the force for over four years; I moved rank fast and knew how to handle myself so the warning was mostly for the junior constables. But my heart thuds violently in my chest when I think about the possibility...no. I had to focus. But I can’t help but try her cell on our way to the scene. When it continues to ring, my thoughts go to the worse place possible. I know I hadn’t spoken to her in nearly a year, like she wanted, but if anything happened to her, I wouldn’t be able to forgive myself.
When we arrive at the scene, the thieves are still inside. I make sure nobody makes any moves, following protocol, and trying to gauge the exact situation inside. But before I could give orders, a man holding up his zip-tied hands shuffles out of the building. I notice the terror on his face and the fact that he's not armed.
"Down!" I say. The restless energy building up inside of me makes every move feel frantic.
"They left out the back! They left!" The man's shaky voice reaches our ears. I gesture a few of the officers to head around back and radio in the update.
"Get his statement, be sensitive,” I snap at the closest officer before I take a few of my officers indoors. The scene inside only reminds me why I do what I do, there's glass on the floor, phones in a pile and bullets littering the floor. Everyone looks shocked, people are crying, and a man in the corner is bleeding profusely.I scan all their faces but I don’t see her. I pray that she might have taken the day off today or something, even though I knew she rarely every did. Where was she?
"Medical," I order. I face the crowd, "You're all alright, If everyone can slowly get up and follow Officer McGregor out, we'll see that your belongings are returned to you and collect statements later. You’re all alright now."
"Sir," a bloke off to the side steps forward from the group getting up. "Our manager was taken to the back...we're not sure how she is, she hasn't come out...”
I reassure the crowd she should be fine. I didn't want them to see me panic, not to mention if we had any casualty the press outside were going to bombard this crowd with insensitive questions and I really wanted to keep this on the low. I was considered young for a DCI and any screw up meant I took it twice as hard. And I didn’t know if I could behave normally if I didn’t find her in any way except breathing. I put on my brave face.
I get an officer to stand by and venture cautiously into the back, spotting an open vault. I hurry into the area when I spot her, laying motionless on the floor.
“Y/N,” I rush forward, skidding on my knees to check on her. “Pleasepleaseplease.” I put my fingers to her pulse and nearly shout in relief. She was alive! I send a thanks out into the universe, to whoever was watching over her. “Y/N! Y/N, can you hear me?”
Her eyes flutter under her lids. I turn her gently onto her back, she was wearing a Green Day t-shirt under a smart jacket and trousers--that was unlike her. She always dressed very smart. I gently remove her short strands off her face to reveal a nasty bruise on the side of her head. I try to stifle my heartbeat; it scared me seeing her like this. I’m about to call my officer but her long lashes flutter and suddenly she's looking at me, dazed.
"Y/N! Are you alright?" I inquire. She blinks, and then again, her eyebrows drawn together as she stares at me. I try again, “Y/N, answer me please! Are you alright?”
"I...do I...bloody look alright? Where did they go?" She snaps out of her daze and tries to sit up but her hand goes to her head which must be throbbing. I place a hand on her back so she doesn't fall back down.
"Oh thank god,” I sigh in relief, she could talk. She was alright. “Th-they’'ve managed to escape. We'll deal with that. You were knocked unconscious so we should get you checked-”
"Those bastards," she snarls. I bite back a chuckle as I help her up. She pushes me away as soon as she's on her feet. "I wasn't even supposed to bloody be here today you know that? It was my day off and....Jesus.” She clutches her forehead. “How's everyone else? Chris? Adam?"
"Everyone is fine, your guard’s being taken to hospital. Everyone else is untouched, we need to have you checked out though." I am mesmerized, as always, by her ability to talk about ten things at once.
“What the hell are you doing here?”
“It’s my case, I guess,” I tell her, expecting the question. She scowls. “I’ll have to ask you some questions later, but Y/N we need to have your head checked.”
“I’m sure you’d like that,” she mumbles.
“You’re proving by the second that you’re quite alright but we’ve got to get you to a medic anyway,” I gesture forward so she can walk ahead of me. I didn’t want her falling or anything. The constable at the door watches her walk out and eyes me warily.
"She need her statement taken chief?"
"I'll take her down to the station myself--she's hurt." I dismiss the officer and follow Y/N out. I wanted to keep an eye on her right now. “Can I help you walk?”
“My legs are working fine,” she snarls whilst clutching her forehead.
Your POV:
I could not believe today's turn of events. I was supposed to have a relaxing day off but instead, I’m rushed to work so I could be held up by thieves, forced to help them rob my branch, only to be mildly concussed. And the person on the case is none other than my ex-husband Harry Styles.
The only thing going for me is that I don't cry easily (or i would be a sniffling mess right now). And Harry was the last person I wanted to cry in front of although he’s seen me at much worse. I push aside those memories, ignoring his lingering eyes and try to walk ahead of him.
I cover up my shaking hands by stuffing them under the blanket I'm wrapped in when Harry leads me to the ambulance. He stays to the side while the medic goes through a questionnaire and informs me on what I need to know about being mildly concussed. All I could think about is the feeling of a gun pressed to the small of back, the chill of it through fabric.
"Miss?" The medic asks.
"Sorry, I got it. Yes. Thank you."
"I asked how you got here?" The medic begins to look concerned. Shit. I did not want more attention.
"I...meant I got what you were saying. Sorry, I rode the tube in."
"Great. You can ride with me to the station," Harry says from the side. I avoid his gaze but I have to agree. There was no way I was taking the tube during a time like this. I had a concussion.
So I'm sat in the back whilst Harry drives with his partner. I catch Harry glancing in the rear-view more often than he should and when we make eye contact, he gives me a reassuring smile. But sitting in the back of the car, I feel like the metal tip of a gun still keeps my spine straight. My lungs feel like they're not expanding large enough for air and I clutch the seatbelt strapping me in. I try to name all the countries I could remember--a coping technique I’d used since I was a kid to try and distract myself.
"You alright miss?" The other officer sounds concerned.
"Yeah," I choke out. "Just a little stuffy back here."
"Oh ‘m sorry," Harry opens the back window and I greedily gulp the fresh air coming in. My panic subsides and I settle back into the seat.
*
"And that's all you remember?" Harry sits on the desk chair next to me even though his own seat remains empty behind the desk.
"Exactly as I've told you, like, 20 times Harry."
It was now two hours later; I'd sat waiting for an hour before receiving my phone only to find multiple calls from the bank’s higher-ups. After dealing with them, I had to wait another half hour before finally being interviewed. I proceeded to drink two cups of bad coffee while giving every detail of what I remember, their masks, and so on. Every time I said something that could help, Harry would backtrack and I would explain it three different ways. It was frustrating and the repetition kicked my anxiety up so that I was on the edge of a breakdown. I grip the arms of the chair and respond to Harry. "Listen, alright, why would I not be telling you the full story? Of course that's all I bloody remember! It's not like I had an out-of-body experience and I saw them leave through the back door.”
"I'm sorry Y/N, it's just routine." Harry keeps a straight face on. "We have a few suspicions we're trying to corroborate by interviewing everyone involved. I promise I’m just being thorough-"
"Yeah yeah alright, you sound like you're reading from a bloody manual," I pinch the bridge of my nose and sigh into the silence. When Harry doesn't say anything, I look up to see him watching me with an amused expression.
"What?" I ask, annoyed.
"It’s been a while...I forgot how charming you can be.”
“What can I say, you bring it out in me.”
"Very interesting outfit by the way," he takes my snark in stride, gesturing to my outfit with his pen instead. I cross my arms in front of me. He's still got the stupid expression on his face, it looks unchanged from the one he used to give me once upon a time. When he found something I did funny but in a loveable way; the feelings that surface are almost unbearable.
"Don’t judge my outfit, I had to rush to work for our client meet-oh shit." I pull out my phone and check my email but there's nothing from the client. Probably avoiding the shit show. I notice the time, with all the time I’d wasted today I may as well not have taken the day off at all.
"So you weren't meant to be at work today except for this client? Bad timing isn’t it." Harry reads to himself from his notes. I stare at him, wishing I could burn a hole into his skull to see if he really had a brain in there.
"I've told you this five times before, Harry. You're literally reading from your notes. If you're just going to ask the same questions over and over I’m sure you can find the answers in there and I can go home."
"Right but something doesn't add up, I just want to make sure I have all the details."
"Do I have to be here to watch you do your mental maths?" I wasn't very nice when anxiety and frustration became my base emotions. But Harry knew that.
He looks at me, eyebrows raised at my snark. "I'm sure that you want to get to the bottom of this just as much as I do-"
"But that's not my job," I remind him. "That's yours. I've done mine, and I'd really just like to go home." My voice cracks, and I feel a rush of embarrassment.
"How about I drop you off home? I can walk through the day with you once more during the drive?”
He looks at me expectantly, “I’d rather stab myself in the eye.”
"Best not to with the concussion,” Harry pushes my buttons, and I’m kind of surprised. The last time we saw each other he’d been accommodating to my anger but he was pushing back today. Like he used to when we were together when he riled me up simply because he found it amusing.
When I scowl though, he gets serious. “Y/N, just let me give you a ride home and we can talk more.”
I didn’t want to stand around arguing, I was tired, so I just agree. He smiles, his dimples making a pretty appearance. Damn him.
H POV:
I’m surprised she agrees to ride home with me. I knew Y/N had a stubborn streak and giving in to my offer was new. She’d made it clear last time we saw each other that she wanted nothing to do with me. I was also curious to know where she lived, I’d only been to her office once since we’d split. And that was usually to drop off papers.
She actually answers my questions on the drive, albeit they’re one word answers, but she gives me space to talk out some theories I had. But she also disagrees with most of them, pointing out their flaws. The comfortable back-and-forth between us is bittersweet. This was why we were married once upon a time. We worked well together; after all, we’d been friends for years before dating the other. It was the friendship I missed the most when I thought about us.
When we drive up to her address, it’s a townhome in a decent part of the city. Her promotion clearly had its perks.
I leap out of the car to open her door before she could but she beats me to it, scowling at me as she realises what I was trying to do.
“So you live here?” I try to ease into a conversation, get her to open up, ask her how she was doing. But she looks at me like I’d asked a stupid question, waving her keys.
“You’re kind of dense for a detective,” she says when I raise an eyebrow. “Don’t look so shocked.”
“Forget I asked,” getting personal was useless.
“Done.” She always manages to get the last word. She climbs her steps but I follow her up. She eyes me as she finds the correct one on her key ring. “What?”
“I just-have you got anyone living with you?”
“What’s that got to do with the case?” She asks, her defenses going up.
“You’re concussed, it’s best you have someone with you for the next 24 hours like the med-”
“I’ll be fine Harry,” her sharp edges soften but still, she only opens her door wide enough to step through. I can barely see anything behind her except for a hall.
“You shouldn’t be alone,” I try again.
“Nice of you to care,” the way she says it implies a deeper meaning, one that borders on a dangerous topic.
“I’m serious Y/N, this--a concussion’s no joke. And it was traumatic what you went through you really shouldn’t-”
“I’ve been on my own for a while now, I’ll be okay.” There she goes having the last word again. I raise my hands and back off.
“If you say so. I’ll...head back to the station but if you need anything, well, you know how to reach me.”
She nods, closing the door softly behind her. I sigh, it was a whirlwind last few hours but I was just grateful Y/N was going to be okay. I know she hated me, but I still cared about her. It was hard not to. We’d known each other for over a decade, and even though I hurt her in our past, and she might not agree with me, I cared. Caring about her didn’t have an on/off switch. I only wanted her to be okay. Maybe even happy.
Y POV:
I go through the motions for the rest of the afternoon, mostly I sit zoned out in front of the window while the morning plays like a loop in my head. Something about having your life hang in the balance of a stranger’s pointer finger made it feel so fragile. It unraveled me, and I can’t focus on anything. I just keep feeling the gun on my back, and smashing against the side of my head.
I keep my head iced, and avoid screens except to send out a couple emails and to call my sister after 8 voice messages that progresses from panic after hearing the news to annoyance as I don’t respond. When she finds out Harry’s on the case she swears.
“That bastard,” I can see her face in my mind, the one where she pursues her lips like mum used to. “You should report him, conflict of interest right? It’s traumatic enough what you’ve been through, you poor thing. I was just talking to Lewis and he said I should come down to stay with you this weekend-”
“That’s really alright,” I nip the idea in the bud. I loved my sister dearly but she was an overly anxious person and I don’t think that would be helpful for me right now. “It’s just a mild concussion, the medic said I should be cleared after 24 hours so it would only be a hassle for you to come down here.”
“Alright,” she says grudgingly. “But you say the word and I’m on the first train out. And I’ll give that ex of yours an earful if he’s anywhere near you again.”
I smile at my sister’s overprotective nature, “I appreciate the offer, but I think I can manage that fine on my own.”
“That you can,” she laughs.
But when I put down the phone, the silence creeps in again. And normally I loved the quiet but like a broken record player, the voices and sounds from this morning continue to play in a loop in the silence.
I give up after 7 and start preparing for bed. But a call interrupts my nightly routine.
“Y/N,” it’s Harry. “It’s me, Harry.”
“I do have call display,” I say dryly.
“Right, I...wasn’t expecting you to pick up.”
“Is this about the case?” I was hoping he was calling to say the bastards were caught.
“Oh...not exactly. I was wondering if you’ve fed yourself. I’m in your area for work, it’s my last call. I thought I could bring you some takeout or...?”
“I was about to get ready for bed.” I reply.
“Oh. That’s early? Have you had dinner?”
I think about the pathetic cheese toast I’d managed to make. My stomach growls thinking about food, I didn’t seem to have an appetite until he’s said something. “Fine, only if you’re in my area.”
Surely, not even 10 minutes go by and by doorbell rings. Harry stands outside with a takeout bag, his pressed shirt from this morning is more rumpled with a few buttons undone.
“I parked on the street--is that alright?”
“I guess? You’re just here to drop this off.” I shrug.
“Actually I uh, I thought I’d keep you some company.”
“I...” I don’t know if I should be offended. “I don’t need company. I only agreed to the takeout.”
“I’m part of the package,” he hides the bag behind him, a smug smile on his face. I roll my eyes, it was too late to do this with him.
So I leave the door open and head inside, tightening my robe around me. Harry was part of my past and having him here, in the place I’d built myself back again, feels wrong. This was where I’d shed the identity of being a divorcee before 30, and here he was. When I turn to see why he was so quiet, I find him scanning my gallery wall and smiling at the pictures.
“Hey, I’m on here,” he points to a small group picture.
“Don’t flatter yourself,” I walk back to him to get the food. “I just looked good there.”
It was a shot from my sister’s wedding, Harry and I with the newlyweds. It was taken a few weeks before we’d made us official actually--moving from friends to lovers was maybe one of the bigger mistake I’d made in life. Another was agreeing to marry him.
“I look pretty good too,” he leans in closer. I ignore him and take the cartons of Chinese out and grab cutlery. He joins me, I hand him a beer and take a sparkling water for myself. “How’ve you been feeling?”
“Okay,” I shrug. “Just sorting through it all. Trying to avoid screens, all that.”
“That’s good,” he steals a chicken from the container I’m dumping into my plate. I eye him but he just grins, chewed food between his cheeks. I let it slide. “So you’re not supposed to sleep with a concussion or something?”
I sigh, “That’s not true, I only have a mild concussion!”
“Well I’m not a bloody doctor!”
“Thank god for that.”
“You’ll never stop doing that will you?” He rubs his chopsticks together and attempts to eat with him. “Always so snarky.”
“I can’t help it,” I continue to watch him fail with his chopsticks and pick up a fork. “It sustains me.”
“You should try being nice for once.”
“Tried it once, didn’t work out well for me. So...here I am.”
I was being passive, I knew that. He knew that with the way he eyes me over his food. He keeps quiet though, knowing there was nothing he could say in this moment to make a difference. We eat in silence until he receives a call and he leaves to take it. I clean up so by the time he gets back I’ve just loaded the dishwasher.
“I know the sleep thing’s not true for you,” Harry says as he approaches. “But I think I should stay here overnight. Just to make sure you’re-”
“No,” I cross my arms. “There’s no reason for you to stay the night Harry. I don’t need you here.”
“It’s for your peace of mind-”
“It’s for your peace of mind Harry. And frankly, I don’t care about your peace of mind. I don’t want you sleeping over, I’m not comfortable with that.”
“Y/N, c’mon! It’s not a big deal. It’s not like we didn’t sleep in the same bed for years--I’ll be sleeping on the couch! You’re not in your best shape and it’s just for a night, it’ll be like I’m not even here.”
“Don’t you have a girlfriend or something to go home to?” I ask. He shifts his gaze and shakes his head.
“Nope, my bachelor pad just me. I’ll be out of your hair in the morning.”
I dry my hands and watch him, he wasn’t going to take no for an answer. I knew him well enough to recognise the wide stance, shoulders back, and jut of his chin. He wasn’t backing down.
“I don’t want to hear you, Not even a peep. I’ll make up the couch but this is the one and only time you’re wearing me down, you’re lucky I’m not in the mood to argue-”
“Promise,” he holds his hand up to his chest, a grin on his face knowing he won.
I leave him with a comfortable setup and head up to my own room. There was a spare upstairs but I don’t think I could handle him sleeping next door to me. It was weird how in just one day I’d seen more of him than I had in the last couple years and now he was sleeping in my living room like we were okay. Not like he wasn’t the man who’d broken my trust, and my heart.
As I lay awake in bed, unable to sleep as the day replays in my head, another set of memories infiltrates my mind and keeps me from sleeping. The story of Harry and I, the naive beginning, eventful middle, and heartbreaking end. My mind repeats its history and I don’t fall asleep for hours. When sleep finally comes, my dreams are haunted by the same memories.
#harry styles#harry styles x reader#harry styles fluff#harry styles angst#harry styles fic#harry styles fanfic#harry styles imagine#fic#writingsfromhome#au#detective!harry#dci!harry#harry styles series#this is quite diff from what I usually write#hence leaving it for months#but we just started a stricter lockdown#so why the heck not#amirite#😔#tw: ptsd#also don't forget acab but also#enjoy detective H#🤪
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What a Shift (I can't believe I got to write another one omg?)
(Imagine 2)
Summary: “D'you know how hard it was to keep my cool when I got the call and saw you at the end of it?”
Warning: DUI accidents, mentions of drugs, EMT stuff
I apologize for any errors (English isn't my first language and all my works are not beta-read) and the inaccuracy (I tried my best to research as much as I can). I also use gifs to only show what is happening (actions, gestures, etc.) and not to show the physical appearance, etc. of the reader. Feedback is very welcome, let me know where and how I can improve <3
~
"Lord give me patience or an untraceable handgun." You murmured under your breath while slowly making circles with your fingers on your temple, all the while putting pressure as the headache grew.
You were thankful that it was your turn to be behind the wheel and not the one hopping out of the vehicle to scan the area for the caller, you watched as your partner turned her head from left to right before leaning to the device on her shoulder to radio in your dispatcher and inform them of your current status.
You already had a hunch that it was a prank call from the start when your dispatcher spoke to both of you while on the way to the location they received the call from. You haven’t heard of anyone using a telephone booth in years, let alone aware of any telephone booths still existing in New York in this day and age!
'We already rang them back three times but there was no answer.' They said, their voice static through the radio. ‘But the caller did request an ambulance.'
‘If you wouldn’t mind having a quick drive-by, see if anything’s going on?’ They added before ending the call.
"Well, that stinks - literally.” The door opened, hands on her hips and brows that were furrowed to meet in the middle of her forehead - the look of disappointment and annoyance that mirrored yours. “What a bunch of assholes - an absolute waste of time.” She huffed some more before climbing back in.
“Tell me about it.” You answered with a frustrated sigh before turning to your side and reaching for the latch of your seatbelt and buckling it back. “Can’t believe some kids would think it’s fun to do this.”
“If they don’t use their heads, they better give it away, then.” Monica shook her head while clicking her tongue, already buckling her seatbelt and leaning back on her seat. “They’re costing us money.”
“They’re costing us lives.” You almost exclaimed as you started the engine, shifting the gear stick and letting the ambulance move away from the prank caller’s location. “Do they not realize that we could have been saving lives, responding elsewhere?”
“Right?” Monica agreed, both of your moods already declining and it wasn’t even halfway through your 12-hour shift.
“They got a special place in hell.” She said just before the monitor in the middle of the dashboard beeped, alerting the two of you of another emergency.
“Oh, lookie here,” Monica said, her spirits suddenly perked up as she sat up more attentively to see what it could be this time.
“What is it?” You asked as you turned on the sirens along with the flashing blue and red lights on top of the ambulance, occasionally honking at cars that won’t move out of the way.
“Vehicular accident involving a sedan and a motorcycle,” Monica spoke the information out loud to you as you continued your drive to the location, following the route that was sent to your ambulance’s GPS. “According to them, the sedan was beating a bunch of red lights before t-boning the motorcyclist.”
“Ouch,” you reacted, your face wincing at the visualization your brain brought up in your head.
“Hello, ladies.” You heard Darcy, your dispatcher, again through the radio. “Cops are already on the scene; we’ve also called for EMT backup.”
“Apparently, the sedan caused more damage as we speak.” She added.
“What’s gotten into the person?” You asked, more to yourself than to Monica and Darcy.
“Police said that the driver of the sedan was DUI, but we’re still waiting on their final reports,” Darcy answered.
“Alright, thank you, Darcy. We’re already around the corner.” You informed her before ending the call.
Just up ahead, you saw similar blue and red lights flashing on top of at least 3 police cars. Some of the officers on site were already guiding and rerouting other cars that were driving in the direction the accident took place.
Unbuckling your belt and stepping out, you opened the side of the ambulance and handed over Monica’s EMT bag, and slung yours on your shoulder before meeting with the police officer who was walking up to you.
Your eyes were already scanning the premises trying to decipher each person, be it the officers, the victims, or some nosy people who were standing on the side to watch.
“The motorcyclist took most of the brunt-” the officer was almost panting as he spoke, most likely out of breath from the adrenaline and exhaustion of chasing down the suspect. “-before hitting the front of an SUV.”
“Where’s the motorcyclist?” You asked as you neared the crowd that was huddling around to get a good look at the scene.
“Right this way.” The officer parted the crowd as more of his colleagues tried to corral the people away. “Seated by the curb - male, in his 30s.”
“And the SUV?” Monica asked.
“A family of four - 2 adults, both in their 40s, and 2 minors.” The officer informed.
“Okay, I’ll take the one with the kids,” Monica glanced your way before asking the officer to lead her to them, leaving you to take care of the t-boned motorcyclist.
Your eyes scanned for the man the officer was describing and sure enough, you found him seated at the farthest edge of the scene away from the onlookers.
“Well, I’ll be damned.” You spoke, a smile almost showing with your hands on your hips as you walked up to him. “And here I thought the Winter Soldier was indestructible.”
At the sound of your voice, Bucky almost snapped his neck at how fast he looked up. The worry lines on his forehead disappearing, the anxious heavy feeling in his chest was already replaced by a light skip in his heart, and felt little flutters in his stomach at the familiar face he was seeing.
“I’m glad you find my pain amusing, doll,” Bucky said, almost chuckling but wincing at the pain he felt on his side.
You ignored the tingling feeling in your stomach at the pet name before you gave a small comforting smile as you dropped your bag to the side, kneeling in front of him to assess his situation.
“Does Steve know?” You asked as you took your little flashlight from the breast pocket of your uniform, already laughing internally at the mother hen-like personality Captain America has for his best friend when he finds out what happened to him.
“He already beat you to it.” Bucky smiled, nodding his head to the side before looking back at you, his blue eyes giving a little sparkle - you weren’t sure if it was the noontime sun or something else that did it.
Looking at the direction he gestured to, you saw Steve already conversing with some of the police officers, his eyes would travel back to the person who caused all of this from time to time before glaring at the man.
“If looks could kill,” you chuckled at his remark.
“Okay, can you look ahead, Buck?” You requested before clicking the small flashlight and pointing it at Bucky’s eyes; inspecting their reaction, the light stubble on his jaw tickling the skin of your gloved palm as you steadied his head.
“You know, you shouldn’t have gotten up right away.” You informed him before clicking the flashlight off and tucking it back in the pocket, satisfied with the eyes' reaction to the light. “Can you feel this?”
You started to tap on his upper right arm and down to his forearm then to his fingers.
“I’m fine,” Bucky replied before answering a yes to your question.
“How ‘bout this?” You then started to tap on the side of his thighs and the rest of his leg. Again, he answered a yes.
“Were you wearing your helmet?” You asked again, now putting your attention in inspecting his head.
“I was,” he answered, gesturing to the now broken helmet just a few feet from his Harley that was laying on its side.
You were glad that he wore it today knowing that sometimes, the veteran in front of you would purposefully forget his headgear, reasoning that wherever he was headed to was nearby. Your hand brushed back the locks that fell on his forehead, did the same on the sides and the back of his head, inspecting if there were any bumps or cuts.
“Can you wiggle your toes for me?” You asked before looking down at his sock-covered feet, his toes doing as you say. You then heard him mumble something along the lines of ‘You’re starting to sound like Steve.’
“Okay, no cuts here and I can’t feel any bumps either,” you hummed to yourself as you continued to part some of his hair. “Do you know what day it is to-”
“Y/N, I swear I’m f-” You can hear the annoyance in Bucky’s voice as he reached for your wrists to stop your hands from trying to look for any more bumps in his head and push you away, you knew he hated being coddled but it was protocol and logical that you check everything.
“You’re hurt.” You told him. “You shouldn’t have moved, it could’ve caused you much more serious damage, y’know.”
He only sighed, knowing that you were right from all the stories you’ve told them of your past experiences and encounters working as part of the EMT team.
“Okay,” you say more to yourself, satisfied that he still has feelings in his limbs and that his helmet protected his head and face. Getting the alcohol-soaked pads, you carefully cleaned the scapes, cuts, and nicks that littered his right cheek and neck. “I saw you winced earlier, where’d the sedan hit you?”
“Right side, feels more like an ache,” Bucky replied looking back at you before trying to shrug off his leather jacket much to your dismay with the movement he was doing while injured. “I’m guessing it’s a broken rib.”
He ignored your nagging and protests to stop moving and that you had scissors to cut the fabric of his shirt but he proceeded to lift the clothing anyway from his troubled side; you can instantly see a bruise was starting to form there.
“Why are you so hard-headed,” you mumbled.
“You still love me for it, don’t you?” He teased, the glimmer in his blue eyes still present.
“Okay, can you rate your pain for me from 1-10?” You asked, ignoring his teasing remark as you tried to gently press on to the area he was having trouble with and looking at his face to gauge a reaction, the blue eyes rather hypnotizing as he looked back at you.
With the sudden feeling of warmth on your cheeks, you looked back down on your hands and ignored the unexpected feeling of closeness between the two of you. You heard him clear his throat as you continued to probe the right side of his torso, trying to feel for any bumps or sunken parts that might confirm his hunch.
When you heard him hiss as your fingers touched a tender part just below his second to the last rib, you looked up.
“That’s an 8.” He panted, his face contorting in pain. “I guess the serum’s taking its sweet time to work.”
Bucky groaned from the ache as you helped him pull his shirt down before taking notes with the pen and clipboard beside you, making sure to be as detailed as Helen wanted the medical finds to be.
“Isn’t that a bit too much, Y/N?” Bucky asked, looking down at the clipboard you were writing on beside him. “And how’d you know some of the information there when I haven’t even told them to you yet.”
“Bucky, I know.” You answered with a little laugh as you looked back up at him and caught Bucky with one brow up and a smirk playing on his lips.
“You stalking me now, doll?”
You rolled your eyes before you heard someone jogging in your direction making both you and Bucky look up to who it was.
“Y/N?” Steve called, almost surprised to see you here. “I didn’t know you were on duty today.”
“Hey, Steve.” You greeted before standing up and letting him envelop you in a side hug.
“EMT reshuffled their schedules, so here I am.” You answered with a smile. “I’m glad that Monica and I got the call. At least now I can directly send these to Helen.”
You waved the clipboard in your hand before kneeling back down to put it back in your bag.
“I’m guessing you can stand up?” You asked Bucky, seeing that in the past he would protest and whine against being wheeled in a stretcher or wheelchair no matter how much persuasion.
“Yeah, I’m good.” He answered before Steve crouched down to his left and looped an arm around his friend’s torso, careful not to touch the tender spot on the right.
You did the same on the other side, careful that you don’t hit the alleged broken rib.
“Okay, one, two-” Steve counted before the both of you hoisted Bucky up and waited for him to adjust his footing.
Slowly walking to the ambulance, you managed to make him sit on the steps of the vehicle.
“So what’s the verdict, doc?” Steve asked as he sat beside his friend. Two pairs of blue eyes looked at you and waited for your answer.
“Bucky’s hunch might be right, one or two broken ribs on his right,” You started as you looked back down on the list on your clipboard.
“There also might be bruising on his right leg, I saw him react earlier.”
You looked at Bucky pointedly as if to tell him that you were eagle-eyed and he can’t hide anything from you.
“What did the cops say about the person driving the sedan?” You asked, tucking the clipboard under your armpit before getting the blood pressure monitor and latching it to Bucky’s arm.
You busied yourself in doing all the basic necessary checkups as you listened to Steve.
“The punk was high and drunk.” He answered with a click of his tongue, Bucky shaking his head too at the gathered information. “They don’t know how the guy drove for so long before finally hitting-” He gestured to Bucky.
“What’ll they do with him?” Bucky asked.
“Put him behind bars, that’s for sure; they said that they’ll also do an investigation on who sold it to him,” Steve informed.
“At least now he’s being dealt with, and hopefully he won’t lead the NYPD in another car chase.” You said before instructing Bucky to sit further on the step and excusing Steve off of his comfortable seat beside his friend to reach for the small oxygen tank and mask.
“Would you mind holding this for me?” You asked Steve as you handed him the small tank.
Fiddling with the equipment, you managed to turn it on and set it at the right amount.
“Here, put this on.” You carefully stretched the garter over Bucky’s head and placed the mask on his face, covering his nose and mouth.
“I already saw you were having difficulty breathing - this might help.”
“You can put it down now,” you told Steve nonchalantly before putting on your stethoscope and gesturing for Bucky to lean forward so you can reach his back.
“I have to check again so this may be a little bit cold.” You warned.
“I can handle it,” Bucky spoke before you lifted his shirt to listen, taking your time on each side to try and hear for anything that may result in further damage.
As you squinted your eyes in concentration, you stiffened at the sudden cool and warm hands on your hips. You tried to ignore it but the sudden feeling of thumbs running smooth comforting circles on your stomach made you draw back and stand with your own hands reaching for his and placing them on his lap.
“Oh, c’mon, Buck. Seriously?” Steve groaned. “I don’t take you for the PDA type.”
“Quit it, Bucky. I’m trying to listen.” You warned at the same time.
Bucky only rolled his eyes at both of your scoldings knowing that the two of you were not as serious before you went back to listening to his breathing.
After a few minutes, you removed your stethoscope and hung it around your neck before leaning to your right shoulder.
“Monica, it’s Y/N. I might need to bring the motorcyclist to Helen.” You radioed your partner. “Suspected broken rib, the patient is already having difficulty in breathing.”
“Copy, Y/N. I’m still assisting the family with our backup EMT. We’ll meet you back at the base.” The static voice of Monica was heard over the radio before you went ahead and called for Helen.
After arriving at the Tower where Dr. Cho instructed you to bring the injured Avenger, you and Steve managed to persuade - it was more of a threat, really - Bucky to be escorted in a wheelchair to Helen’s floor that contained the cradle - this way, he won’t exert much effort and tire himself out and lose oxygen.
As you waited for Steve to return with the wheelchair, you busied yourself by prepping your EMT bag to take with you before you heard Bucky clear his throat.
“What’s wrong?” Your instinct to check on your patient suddenly activated as you turned around from the inside of the ambulance and dropping everything on the makeshift table before you stepped out and stand in front of Bucky.
Scanning for any signs or sources for his discomfort from head to toe and finding none, you looked back up at him. “Do you feel any pain?”
“Nothing’s wrong, Y/N,” Bucky reassured, his eyes looking down on your hand.
There was a moment of silence before he spoke again.
“Married?”
“Yeah,” You replied, relieved that he wasn’t in pain before looking down on the gold band on your ring finger with a smile. “You?”
“Taken, as well.” He answered, looking down at his own golden band - a stark contrast on the darker vibranium color of his arm.
“Wife’s probably going to get mad when she finds out what happened.” He started.
“How come? Wouldn’t she be worried?” You asked as you crossed your arms over your chest, curious why the missus will be more mad than worried.
“She’ll be mad when she finds out I stained my shirt. You know, blood stains are hard to remove.” He answered, his lips pursed as if trying to hold back his laughter.
There was a quiet pause before a deafening smack echoed in the garage.
“You bet your ass I’m mad at you, Barnes!” You almost growled, not really caring at the moment that Bucky was your patient. “Just wait until my shift is over.”
“Ow!” He groaned and tried to soothe the already warm stinging pain radiating on his right arm with his left hand. “What was that for?”
“Do you know how hard it was to keep my cool when I got the call and saw you at the end of it?” You were still not over at the sight you saw him in - seated on the curb looking defeated and in pain, the tears you were holding back almost an hour ago were starting to fill the rims of your eyes.
Gone was the hurt and annoyance that Bucky felt at the unexpected smack you gave him as his face softened at the sight of you, he could only offer you a reassuring smile before his hands reached for yours and pulled you to him.
Enveloping you in a tight hug, you tried to breathe in and normalize your heartbeat. You were sure that Bucky could hear it as his head was against your chest, your chin on top of his head.
“I hope what happened finally convinces you to never leave your helmet at home.” Your voice a little muffled as you spoke against his hair, you looked up trying to fight back the tears that were threatening to spill at the sudden imagination of what might have happened if he did forget his helmet at home.
“I promise-” he spoke as he pushed away from you to look you in the eye, “- I won’t leave it anymore.”
The contrast of hot and cold gave you a sense of comfort as he cupped your face in his hands before pulling you down to him, planting a kiss on your forehead, then your nose and lastly placing a chaste kiss on your lips.
“Ah!” Bucky groaned again, pulling away from the sudden insult of a pinch to his left side.
“I’m still mad at you.” You glared before giving him another peck on the lips.
~
Did not expect it to be that long, tbh. Hope you liked it!
#bucky barnes#bucky barnes imagine#bucky barnes imagines#marvel#marvel imagine#marvel imagines#sebastian stan#sebastian stan imagines#tfatws#winter soldier#winter soldier imagine#winter soldier imagines#bucky barnes x reader#reader insert#sebastian stan imagine#bucky barnes x y/n#james buchanan barnes#james bucky barnes#the falcon and the winter soldier bts#the falcon and the winter soldier
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Queen live at Forest National in Brussels, Belgium - August 24, 1984
Some parts of the Hammer To Fall promo video were filmed during this show - the camera was filming the audience reactions during TYMD, Radio Ga Ga and Hammer To Fall. On the next day 20 fans from the Dutch fan club were invited to come again to the filming of the promo video.
At the gig, the band asked the audience to return the following day for the shoot. However, most likely assuming it was all a joke, the vast majority stayed away; in fact only a dozen fans turned up. Undeterred, the shoot went ahead anyway, with the band's performance that day interspersed with footage shot the previous night.
(x)
This is the first show of The Works tour.
According to the July '89 issue of Record Collector, Queen ran through about 40 songs during rehearsals. This list of songs rehearsed that didn't end up in the setlist comes from someone who worked on the tour:
Great King Rat (longer version), Brighton Rock (full song), I'm In Love With My Car, Sweet Lady, White Man, We Will Rock You (fast), Play The Game, Need Your Loving Tonight, Put Out The Fire, Las Palabras de Amor, Life Is Real (both Freddie solo piano and Freddie/Brian acoustic duet versions)
The keyboardist for this tour (and also the '86 Magic tour) is session musician Spike Edney. He would also lend some vocals to many songs and play rhythm guitar in Hammer To Fall. He and Roger Taylor would form a band called "The Cross" in 1987 which spawned three albums, and he would return to Queen in the 21st century to play on the tours with Paul Rodgers and Adam Lambert.
Spike was recruited in a very informal way by a Queen associate. He went to Munich for their first rehearsal in early August, wound up partying for most of the first night, and missed the first day's rehearsal. It later transpired that everyone else had. He recalls, "The next day, we all managed to get to it eventually, to the first rehearsal, and all the gear was set up. The stage was huge, and I thought "Oh well, here we go then" and we got to the first song , and what I'd forgotten was that they hadn't actually played together for two years. So they said, OK, let's try one of the new songs, I think it was Radio Ga Ga, and we started playing it, and course, I knew it, I'd been studying it for weeks. You know, 1,2,3,4 and we start and we get about a minute into the song and the whole thing collapses. And they all look at each other, you know, very sheepishly, and they say, "Anyone know how it goes?" and I say "well, actually, I know. I know how it goes" and they said "Ah". And so I started showing them the chords and everything and Fred looked at me and said "You don't know the words, do you?" and "Well, yeah I do actually" so then they all came round the piano and we spent the whole day just going through songs, and I thought, "I'm gonna be all right here, this'll be OK"!"
The show started very late, as the band were still doing soundcheck when they were supposed to go on. Apparently over the previous week there were few occasions when all four band members actually showed up for rehearsal. Many songs (likely those listed above) never made the setlist, and soundcheck was an extensive cramming session, particularly for the older material that they hadn't played in years.
Roger Taylor later reflected that this European tour was one of his favourites, and many fans cite the early Works setlist as their favourite ever played by the band. Three medleys are now played, two of which have revived many old songs: Killer Queen, Seven Seas Of Rhye, Keep Yourself Alive, Liar, Stone Cold Crazy and Great King Rat. Staying Power from Hot Space returns to the set, as does Sheer Heart Attack from News Of The World. Only half of Staying Power is played, and it runs into Dragon Attack, followed by an improvisation running into a more compact version of Now I'm Here compared to previous tours.
Many people who attended shows on this tour recall Queen having a very heavy sound, especially on songs like Liar and Stone Cold Crazy. By 1984 they had gained a reputation as being one of the best live rock acts in the business.
Six songs from The Works are performed each night, and the introduction tape is from the album track "Machines". After the heavy G chords are heard on the tape twice, the band walk on stage in the darkness to play the chords the third time, which leads into the brand new "Tear It Up". This is yet another effective opening to a Queen show, something they would perfect time and time again.
I Want To Break Free is performed each night in 1984-85 as the first encore, with Freddie coming on stage sporting a pair of huge plastic breasts under a pink shirt. Part way through the song, he would remove the breasts and twirl them around for a while before finally throwing them into the audience. Some souvenir! As a result of this gag, Another One Bites The Dust has been moved from the encore to be earlier in the set.
This tour showcases an incredible lighting rig and an overall setup mimics the movie Metropolis, from which scenes were used for the promo video of Radio Ga Ga last year. The huge wheels behind the stage (modelled after the ones on The Works album cover) rotate at mostly random times - usually because they are turned manually by various crew members such as Roger's tech Chris "Crystal" Taylor whenever they have a free moment (Freddie Mercury's assistant Peter Freestone told the tale in 2021):
“Yeah, I mean Rio was… amazing. The feeling from that crowd… you know, something like 350,000 people. Oh, you can’t beat that. And when you’re flying in a helicopter over that crowd, it was stunning. But the thing is, I know this sounds really, really stupid but [laughs]… one thing I will always, always remember from that tour was, remember, in the back of the stage you had these wheels that turned every now and then, not constantly but just every now and then. That was because there was… the guy looking after Roger’s drums and me who actually turned those wheels. And there was no set cue or anything that, “Oh, it has to start on this bar, on this song.” No, it was when he wasn’t doing anything and I wasn’t doing anything, we’d say “Ok, let’s go and do it.” And we turned the wheels for a couple of minutes and then left them alone. He had then to do something for Roger and I would just sit there like I always did. And then you’d go back and you’d turn the wheels, like a hamster. We were like hamsters…”
However, a crew member who worked on the tour recalls otherwise: "I do know local crew members were used on the UK shows and certainly (a number of) European gigs. The other thing is that Radio Ga Ga had a set piece with the cogs and lighting, using low ambient lighting and strobes to emphasise mechanical motion of the cogs during the instrumental break. Would Roger Taylor be happy with no one covering him/his kit during a show? Possibly Peter Freestone is remembering production rehearsals when any spare bodies might have been asked to operate the cogs?"
During vocal improvisations on this tour, Freddie would often include bits of "Foolin' Around" and "Living On My Own" from his pending first solo album, which he had been working on during this period.
Freddie now plays a Telecaster for Crazy Little Thing Called Love. It would remain like this through the Magic tour.
The band no longer bring a gong with them on the road. Roger now does a cymbal roll at the end of Bohemian Rhapsody.
A fan recalls hearing the band running through Tear It Up whilst queuing up to enter the venue.
Freddie's voice is in superb shape for this show, but it will quickly weaken as the tour progresses. As incredible as Freddie Mercury was, he certainly did not take care of his voice at times, especially in the mid-80s. After a couple years of heavy smoking, Freddie's voice now sounds a lot deeper and raspier overall.
Before It's A Hard Life, Freddie says, "I think tonight we're gonna do songs from just about every album that we've ever made. You heard some very early stuff from the first album. Right now I think we're gonna do something very new, and we'll see what you think of it."
Freddie does a vocal exchange with the audience before Staying Power, singing "Get Down Make Love" and "Gimme Some Lovin" a few times. The band would improvise bits of the latter a couple times in 1986.
This is the only show on the entire Works tour where Roger plays regular acoustic drums on Another One Bites The Dust (before which Freddie teases the audience with a bit of Mustapha). For the rest of the tour, he'd play electronic drums. He'd also integrate the electronic drum kit into a few other songs, like at the beginning of Hammer To Fall, where one might argue that his sounds don't appropriately complement the guitar to create the intense, heavy sound.
The band sound very tight on this opening night of the tour, with the only exception being the rough transition from Stone Cold Crazy to Great King Rat. The keyboard and guitar solos are integrated together for the first few shows of the tour, during which Brian plays a few bits from Machines. Spike Edney uses his vocoder (a Roland VP-330) for the "machines" and "back to humans" lines heard throughout the tour during this spot (he would use his vocoder for the "radio" lines in Radio Ga Ga as well). After this segment, Brian then gets a few minutes to play on his own as usual.
Parts of the promo video for Hammer To Fall were filmed during this show. Claims from some (even official) sources state that Freddie invited the audience back for (what would actually be "additional") filming the following day aren't true. Here is all that Freddie had to say before the song: "This next song we're gonna use in our next video. So everybody just go mad and maybe later you'll see one of you guys inside the video one day. Oh, just go crazy, take your clothes off. It's called Hammer To Fall." After the song, he simply says, "Good night, you guys!" as that was the last song of the set.
Here is a fan's recollection: "On the night of the gig, there was a camera mounted on an arm that would swing over the front rows of the audience during a few songs. These audience shots were taken during Tie Your Mother Down, Radio Ga Ga, and Hammer To Fall itself. I guess they also had a camera up in the box at the back of the hall [as there are a few shots of both the audience and the band]. I don't remember any cameras onstage during the gig - just the one mounted on the arm."
The Dutch fan club invited only about twenty of its members to attend the video shoot the next day. They were instructed by a roadie to sit quietly on a chair and not to move or approach the band members. After a few hours, Brian came over and had a chat with them, checking to see if they were enjoying themselves and if they were hungry. He then promptly ordered them some take-out!
A minute of Tie Your Mother Down from this show was later broadcast on the Belgian TV station "RTBF" (x) (x). An audience-shot video allegedly exists as well, containing five songs.
After years of speculation, the existence of more footage from this show was proven when bits of it were included in the promo video for Let Me In Your Heart Again in 2014. About 30 seconds of Somebody To Love (largely crowd shots) were seen. There is, however, no accompanying audio. (x)
The first photo is from the autumn 1984 Queen fan club magazine. Brian is seen with a watchful eye over the proceedings. Tour manager Gerry Stickells and his wife are also in the shot.
Pics 2 through 6 were submitted by Alessio Rizzitelli, and the seventh pic was taken by Dave Matkin.
(x)
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(Stills from the "All the Time in the World" episode of Tales of Tomorrow. A mysterious woman arrives with a strange bracelet and wants a man to rob a museum with it...)
Day 39- TV and Radio:
TV:
Tales of Tomorrow, season one, episode 37, “All the Time in the World,” June 13th, 1952.
Westinghouse Studio One, season 4, episode 40, “International Incident,” June 16th, 1952.
Radio:
The Whistler, “Last Message,” June 15th, 1952.
The Bob Hope Show, “Roy Rogers and Dale Evans,” June 10th, 1952.
Suspense, “Concerto for Killer and Eyewitnesses,” June 9th, 1952.
The Chase, “Terminate Professor Kolchek,” June 15th, 1952.
Radio’s Best Plays, “On Borrowed Time,” June 15th, 1952.
Tales of Tomorrow was the indisputable highlight today. A man meets a woman who sets down $100,000 in cash in front of him (about $1.2 million today) and asks him to steal priceless paintings from a famous art museum. But he will be in no danger- she gives him an odd bracelet that speeds up time so much within a 5 foot radius of him, that the rest of the world can’t even see him. Things only get more complicated from there, and it was quite a ride.
The Chase wins the award for most ridiculous moralizing with a blind spot. Today’s show took place in the Soviet Union, and every single little thing ended up being about how America was the greatest country on earth. At one point a man who had Western sympathies was telling someone how much better things were in America. He said the Americans had rightfully joked that equality does exist in the USSR, just that “some people are more equal than others.” Unlike America, where true equality existed. In 1952. Yes, the America where the segregated lynching Jim Crow South was turning into a powder-keg. The America only a handful of years past Japanese internment camps. The America that had just integrated professional baseball and the army, to much dissent. The America where a Chinese-American man could not movie to the suburbs because the white people signed a petition to keep him out. The America where interracial marriage was still mostly illegal. Etc. Etc. It was just surreal to hear an American say with a straight face, “We’ve got real equality here!”
...and now a word from today’s best sponsor: Chesterfield Cigarettes! Sound off! Sound off! For Chesterfield! Chesterfield cigarettes are the first and only ones to name all of their ingredients! And the list is so detailed! 1) the world’s best tobaccos, 2) costly pure moistening agents like natural sweeteners and glycerol, which “are totally safe for use in the mouth!” 3) The highest purity cigarette papers! Wow, how transparent they’re being! Nothing about the nicotine content, of course. And Chesterfield has “the best ingredients, the best manufacturing, and the best research.” Their research is the best that money can buy! It’s 100% bought!
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photocard.
synopsis : in which your best friend gives you the biggest gift that’s he’s always kept to himself on the day of christmas. ( collab w/ @hanflix ) ♡
pairing : minho x reader
themes : romcom & fluff.
word count : 3k
christmas eve.
you shuffled around in your bed, a pout decorating your pink-tinted lips as you brought the blanket closer to your face.
your mouth escaped a sigh one too many times now, and the only thought circulating in your mind was that your best friend in the entire world forgot it was christmas, a holiday you’d always without a stop celebrate together.
your mouth flees another sigh, it wasn’t a big deal that he forgot christmas considering he’s on tour in a completely different country while you returned from your work with the sweet wishes from your coworkers.
your best friend, lee minho, no, not the actor, is from the worldwide famous band, stray kids. it was only normal for him to be travelling way too many times during the years due to his schedule, but he always made time for you even on the busiest of days.
you’ve been friends for more than fifteen years, starting from middle school all the time now. the two of you shared everything, from your very firsts to seeing each other be successful.
you were truly happy at the fact that you two were still best of friends despite him being a literal singer who barely has time to take a seat.
and you love him for that, his personality, the whole tsundere facade, sarcasm and constant chaotic behaviour that made you laugh even on your worst days. on top of that his looks, especially his sharp eyes that you loved to gaze into and the way he always looks like a model when he’s doing the most basic chores.
so being lonely in your apartment, well both of your apartment as he’s over most of the times, was normal. but today felt colder than usual, the apartment quiet with the occasional sounds coming from the heater you placed in front of you.
just the mere thought of him sent your heart fluttering especially when you’ve got an unrequited love for him, being friends for fifteen years and one of us not having feelings for each other sounded absurd.
that’s impossible, that’s what you thought at first but then you started seeing minho in a different light. the way you’d look at him changed and the way your thoughts were constantly crowded by him finally made you realize that yes, you are indeed in love with minho.
your eyes gazing the sky outside, courtesy of the apartment window being able to showcase the city up top. the snow had already started to fall, it was a white christmas, you could see the christmas lights hanging and glowing, tall skyscrapers advertising their christmas spirit by showcasing a lights show of red and green with the occasional appearance of santa.
you could very barely hear the christmas bells from the street market below, but the piano music in the background that you specifically chose was louder.
you rolled over to face the window and buried yourself in one of minho’s black hoodies and the blanket, your eyes tired from the work and feeling droopy as if they’ll shut down any minute.
your thoughts wandering to minho who must be on stage performing his heart out, getting the adrenaline from his fans who he cherished the most. you smiled nonetheless, his face flashing in your mind.
minho on the other had just landed home, he wasn’t exactly supposed to be taking the uber back to your place considering one of the concerts was in both your hometown and he’s supposed to be with the members practicing for it.
he bids goodbye to his friends who cheered and whistled loudly at him yelling “good luck! call us if it works out your way!”
throwing them a playful glare he makes his way to the uber, pulling up his mask and adjusting the jacket around him as the cold december night wind lingered through.
he excitedly tells the address to the man driving not before stopping by a local bakery to grab your favourite cake and snacks, he makes sure to get both of his and your favourite colours along with a cartoon candle that reminded him of you.
he smiles at the bag in his hand before sitting back down in the uber before being driven to your apartment complex.
he sprints up to the building with the plastic bag containing food and cake in one hand while the other held his suitcase, while another bag over his shoulders.
he huffs and puffs out harshly as he tugs the mask down, bowing to the apartment building guard respectfully who only laughed and waved, knowing him and the number of times he’s visited before opening the door to the complex building and immediately being swarmed by the heat.
he glances around and a wide smile graces his face, he loves chirstmas, just because it’s your favourite holiday. he loves seeing you getting all giddy about decorating the tree and when he wraps you in wrapping paper while hearing you scream his name.
he’s sure that you did a great job decorating the entire apartment this year too, although a pity he couldn’t join you this year.
he shakes his head and makes his way to the elevator, pressing the top floor button before entering it. he jumps on his feet back and forth slightly, excited yet scared to see you after a while especially when he’s got something extremely important to say.
when the elevator dings, he practically sprints out of the elevator and makes his way to your shared apartment. but pauses before he could make noise, he takes a swift look at his wrist and checks the time.
11:40 pm.
“she’ll be sleeping, only got twenty minutes left,” he whispers to himself, taking the spare key out and slowly and quietly unlocking the door, not wanting you to know he’s here.
he takes his shoes off and pads his socked feet quietly on the wooden floor until stepping on the comfy carpet. he slowly unravels the window blinding and glances at the city being covered in snow, a smile on his face he looks at the clock again and panic comes over him.
he slowly but quickly takes the cake box out and places it neatly on the table, he grabs plates and puts the dishes beside the cake and then finally places the candles on the surface in a matter of seconds before lighting the candles up.
he has the radio set up for the perfect soft christmas music that echoes in the background, smiling to himself he lets out a sigh of relief and stands up, quietly making his way towards your bedroom even though he feels as if he wants to scream and jump on you.
slowly opening the door, he peeks his head in and his eyes settle on your sleeping form. a warm smile tugs on his lips but he pauses before opening the door.
his heartbeat increases and his stomach churns at what he’s about to do, he’s afraid that you’ll be upset and it’ll ruin everything between you two but he opens the door wider and makes his way towards you.
his lips curve up into a smile when he notices that you’re wearing his hoodie, your cheeks squished together with a blush to them as you slept away.
he contemplates for a second to either jump on you and surprise you awake or to scream and wake you up and then surprise you. laughing he chooses to peacefully wake you up, he takes a seat next to you and pats your warmer cheeks with his colder hands.
“(y/n), wake up,” he mumbles softly and you stir in your sleep, he smiles and caresses your cheek softly.
“(y/n) wake up or i’ll leave, ” he says again but this time closer to your face, you groan and reluctantly flutter open your eyes to look at whatever called out to you.
once your irises focus on the setting they immediately widened, a bright smile on your face as you jump in utter surprise. “minho,” you say groggily.
“what the heck are you doing here!” you let out and he pulls you in a warm hug, whining in your hold as you let out a chuckle.
he taps your head softly, “it’s christmas you idiot and you’re here sleeping,” he says, rocking you back and forth in the hug and you smile against him.
“well, if my best friend isn’t beside me,” you pause and push him away, “how will i celebrate it?” and examine his stunning face.
his eyes turn into crescents and he shows off his infamous smile that has butterflies aviating in your stomach.
before he’s about to pull you over his shoulder you stop him, “but min, aren’t you supposed to be with the guys? what about your tour?”
he chuckles and pulls you up, “you forgot the last concert is here, so i came straight to you so we both can celebrate christmas together,” he says, grabbing your hands and pulling you off the bed.
you groan and he chuckles, “now, c’mon it’s almost christmas.”
you follow him into your living room only to stop beside him, he grins widely when he looks at your shocked face and you find yourself tearing up and he panics immediately.
“w-what’s wrong?” he says, cupping your face looking at you in worry, but you only let out a chuckle and punch his shoulder.
“god, you’re going to make me emo today,” you say and walk past him to admire the living room. eyeing the small cake lit on the centre table with your favourite food around it, your stomach grumbles and you take a seat on the floor.
minho who’s been on pause for the past few seconds jolts out and walks over to take a seat beside you.
your eyes gaze over the table and then back to minho who’s weirdly fidgety, you look at him in confusion. “what’s got you so fidgety?” you ask and he shoots his head at you, wide eyes staring into yours.
he clears his throat harshly before dramatically placing his elbow on the table, cradling his face on his palm.
“nothing,” he gulps at your stare, you look at him a second longer before reaching behind him.
he swears he’s about to have a heart attack, it’s not like you’ve never come closer to him. you’ve hugged on multiple occasions and even sat beside each other with no feelings but for the past few years, all of that has changed.
his breath hitched in his throats and he swears to god that he hear his heart thumping in his ears, he then thanks the almighty when you pull away but only curses internally at your killer smile.
you extend your hand to minho, the one holding your present for him, wrapped neatly in a red box with a golden ribbon right in the centrepiece.
he crosses his eyebrows in confusion, “what is this?” he asks before taking it from your hands, you glance behind him to look at the time.
11:54 pm.
“it’s my christmas present to you,” you reply, pointing behind, “it’s almost time anyway’s so i thought i should give it right now.”
you smile when he takes it from your hands while eyeing you, he chucks open the gift and immediately gasps.
“you did not,” he exclaims, pulling out the very thing he wanted from the beginning of the year.
you grinned, “i did,” watching his eyes sparkle brightly that fastened your heartbeat.
he smiles and places the box beside him before clearing his throat and dramatically bringing out a green bag from behind him, he shoves it to your chest and looks away, a blush coating his cheeks.
you coo in excitement and dismantle the bag, going past the number of fluffy papers to finally grasp the rectangular object. your eyes widen at what you’re holding and scream, minho flinching in the process.
“minho you’re insane!” you say, absolutely blown away by the present he’s given you.
“y-you don’t like it?” he stutters out, afraid that you might not like it even after all the consultations from his group members who said, “simple is sexy.” and so he listened.
“are you kidding me? you got me one of your albums and you think i won’t like it?” you joke, patting his shoulder repeatedly at the excitement as you hurriedly discarded the plastic layering.
he watches your face contort into various expressions and feels his heart sped up as you flip through the pages.
you squeal at every photo and point at how ridiculous minho looked, even though he didn’t.
“oh, hyunjin is so hot,” you say and he immediately snaps his head at you.
“what did you say?” he asks, and you stick your tongue out at him playfully.
as you flip the pages and admire every single one of them, you find yourself staring at the ones with minho longer than the rest. when realizing you’ve been staring at it for seconds you quickly flip the pages, getting excited about the photo card you’ll pull.
minho’s internally screaming, knowing you’re one page away from the photo card, he feels himself starting to sweat, heart wrenching and he looks everywhere but you.
it’s not just a plain old photo card, instead, it’s a special one, the one he specifically designed for you after begging one of the staff members to create on extra print of it, and placed it at the side to give it to you at the perfect time.
you flip the next page and squeal at the photo, “hey! look it’s you, what a coincidence!” you say, picking it up to give it a look.
“what a coincidence,” he mumbles under his breath.
you flip the card and took the time to read whatever auto-generated thing he wrote but to your surprise, it’s something completely different from the past ones.
this one however has your heartbeat increasing, you lift your head to look at minho who’s been eyeing you in curiously.
you open your mouth but nothing comes out, instead, you hear your heartbeat thumping loudly. “a-are you serious?” you ask and he swallows, nodding hesitatingly.
“read it out loud,” he says and you shift to look at the card.
“(y/n), for the past few years, i’ve come to completely fall in love with you.” you pause to suck in a breath. “so this christmas, i wanted to ask you if you’d date me?”
you lift your eyes to look at him who’s scared out of his wits, water starts to brim along your waterline when he starts to speak.
“for the past few years, the way i looked at you changed, you’ve never invaded my mind so much till now,” he stops himself as his head slowly bows down.
“i’ve grown to love you differently,” he says and you place a hand on your mouth. “(y/n), you’re probably the first person i liked outside my members,” he chuckles dryly.
“so i wanted you to th-“
you stop him by lifting his head and pressing your lips to his, he lets out a surprised yelp and you cup his cheeks. he closes his eyes and kisses you back softly, smiling against your lips.
when you pull back, “i love you too, you dummy,” you say with a smile, breathing heavily while glancing in his eyes.
“not just as a friend, but more than that.” you smile before closing the distance between you two again, losing yourself in a sweet yet chaste kiss once again.
this time he pulls back with the brightest smile you’ve seen in a while, “i need to tell the guys, they must be waiting for my call.”
you gasp, “you all knew? and only told me now?”
he doesn’t respond but grins widely, fishing out his phone from his pockets to speed dial the rest who were waiting in their living room, settled on the couch waiting impatiently for the one special call.
once the call goes through they quickly answer it and put it on a video call, minho grabs your waist and pulls you down to sit in between his legs.
you smile shyly, the blush hitting your skim different today. your eyes meet the impatient eyes of the seven boys huddling over each other and you hear minho chuckle lowly in your ear.
“they’ve been waiting,” he whispers and you shoot your eyebrows up.
“how long?” you ask, and he finds himself smiling, “ever since debut.”
even before you could reply, the guys on the other side immediately start screaming at the sight of you two, shaking the camera violently while you and minho laugh at their absurdness.
chan, who seems the only normal one at the moment takes the phone with a big smile. “so? what’s the news?” he asks, his dimples showing and eyebrows wiggling.
you feel the blood shoot up to your cheeks when minho places his chin on your shoulder, “it’s a success.” he says and the other line goes insane once again.
one of them singing ‘my house’ teasingly, the other’s yelling and screaming in excitement and you watch them with wide eyes as if they’ve never witnessed a couple.
you turn your face to minho’s, “are they ok-“ before you could even complete your sentence he takes the chance to press his lips on yours and you find yourself melting under his touch, smiling against his lips.
“oh, eww!” you hear the other’s groan in disgust, making you and minho chuckle at their reactions as he pulls you closer to him.
you glance at the snow falling outside and a smile laces on your lips, burying yourself more into your now boyfriends hold you think about the past christmases with him, but this one takes the cake for being the best with the best present, the photo card.
oh, and of course, your best friend turned boyfriend.
#my first time writing for skz so please eXcUse Me#look this was last minute#collabs with rue#pls spare me#stray kids#minho#lee know#skz fluff#skz soft hours#lee know fluff#lee know x reader#minho imagines#minho scenarios#lee know scenarios#stray kids smut#stray kids soft imagines#stray kids soft hours
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