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fangirl-ramblings · 3 years

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Pairing: Charles Smith x Female Readee

Word Count: 3222

Summary: Love is in the air around camp, but has Cupid's arrow somehow missed you and Charles?

Notes: The fluffiest of fluff, Reader POV / Charles POV

This @rdr-secret-cupid gift is for one of my favourite people - @12timetraveler. My sincere apologies for this Valentine's / birthday present being so late, but hopefully it's well worth the wait 😘

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Cupid's Arrow

Reader's POV

14th Feb 1899

You looked around to see Dutch sitting in his tent, whispering sweet nothings to Miss O'Shea while Sean was trying his hardest to win over Karen, whose icy demeanour was starting to thaw with each passing drink he was plying her with. Hell, even John had had a little too much to drink and summoned the courage to pick a small posy of flowers and present them to Abigail as a small Valentine's gift.

You liked seeing the camp happy like this, all relaxed in each other's company; the likes of Javier and Tilly sitting next to each other as the former strummed on his guitar and filled the air with a sweet melody, or young Mary-Beth, enjoying the latest romance novel she acquired, only to tear her eyes away from the page to gaze lovingly towards an oblivious Arthur before continuing her story.

And while Micah's grumbling about it "not bein' right, someone like him talkin' to a fiiinnnne woman like her," as he watched young Lenny saying something to make Jenny giggle from across the way, was enough to for everybody to tell him to shut up, it certainly wasn't enough to dampen the mood around the place.

It was even nice to see Miss Grimshaw laugh and smile as she joined the older camp members in their reminiscences about previous Valentine's days with their own past loves, soon followed by raucous singing of filthy songs but as you took your makeshift seat of a crate at the poker table, you couldn’t but help feel Cupid’s arrow had struck everyone and somehow bypassed you.

You had secretly hoped that Charles would have joined in with the party, but the minute Dutch wound up his gramophone Charles had disappeared into the woods to take his position on guard duty.

While you'd taken many opportunities to try to make conversation and try to get to know him better over the last few months, you still found him to be a man of few words - but you liked that about him. The camp was full enough of loud-mouthed characters like Sean and Uncle that any moment you found yourself sitting in a comfortable silence with Mr. Smith was bliss.

As the night drew on and more and more alcohol was heartly consumed by all, you felt your eyes growing heavy and couldn’t summon the energy to sing along with the lyrics of “The Louisville Maid”.

"Well as fun as this is, I'm gonna call it a night," you announced to your campmates, knowing full well that nobody was really listening. You sighed as they were caught up in their merriment and headed towards your tent… only to walk straight into Charles.

"Whoa, careful there," he told you, giving you a small smile as he placed those big, strong hands of his upon your arms to help stop you from falling over on the spot.

Your face burned as you felt your face grow redder and with each passing second as you enjoyed his gentle but firm touch, causing you to look away to avoid staring into those beautiful, deep brown eyes of his. You hoped that he thought your flushed appearance was a result of all the alcohol running through your veins and not the thought currently running through your mind; what it would be like if he suddenly dipped and kissed you with a fervent passion?

"Sorry Charles, I… I… I hadn't realised you'd finished your shift already. Want a drink?"

"I'm okay, thank you, I was gonna try and get some sleep… and I think you should too - big day tomorrow isn't it?" Your brow furrowed as you tried to rack your brain. Had you arranged to go on a job and completely forgot? Charles watched you, with a confused look. "Oh, I thought you'd mentioned the other day that it was your birthday? Maybe I got it wrong?"

"Oh my word, yes it is," you gasped in wonderment, "I can't believe you remembered."

"Guess I just have a good memory for special occasions," he grinned, brushing a loose hair from your face without thinking, making you weak at the knees.

He cleared his throat and moved his hand away. "Well we best both go get some shut eye before the sun comes up. Good night and sweet dreams."

You watched him walk to his tent, before heading to your own. Still smiling to yourself, you drew the flaps shut and fell on the cot, relieving that brief moment you just had with Charles over and over as you closed your eyes and let sleep wash over you.

15th Feb 1899

As the sun beamed through the gaps of your tent, you woke up to a very different camp atmosphere compared to the night before. It was eerily quiet; with everybody still in bed, sleeping off the hangovers they'd given themselves at the party.

Deciding to make the most of having a quiet camp all to yourself, you sat yourself up and stretched - your muscles and joints aching in a way that made you laugh. Another year older today and your body was certainly reminding you of that fact with all the aches and pains you suddenly started feeling.

A part of you doubted anybody else would be able to remember that today was your birthday but you smiled as you saw Mary-Beth hadn't forgotten; she'd wrapped a romance novel with one of her ribbons and left it on your trunk. Next to it was a little handwritten note from her, wishing you a very happy birthday and how "the way the heroine in this story reminds me of how you act around Charles, maybe if you read it you'll end up with your true love too. x"

You playfully rolled your eyes; ever the romantic, Mary-Beth had seen you gazing at Charles one day and decided you were destined to be together.

Pulling on some fresh clothes, you stepped outside and made your way towards the coffee pot, presuming nobody would have thought to wash it out and prepare it ready for the morning. Yet, to your surprise, you lifted it up to find it freshly brewed and still piping hot.

“I figured everybody would be wanting some when they woke up,” Charles chuckled, walking behind you carrying some logs for the campfire.

“I’d say; seems they all had a lot to celebrate,” you laughed, pouring yourself a cup. “You want one?” you asked, offering Charles the filled mug currently in your hand.

“I’m okay thanks, I had one before I made a start on tidying the place up.”

“Oh trust me, I wouldn’t worry too much about that today - Grimshaw will have such a headache, she'll be far more focused on getting all the quieter jobs done," you giggled knowing from previous experience how badly Susan seemed to suffer from next morning hangovers.

He carefully placed the chopped wood next to the campfire before turning his attention back to you. "Oh I bet," he grinned, his eyes twinkling. "Actually, I have an idea that might help keep camp running smoothly and stop people grumbling.'

"Oh?" Curiosity had gotten the best of you and you were intrigued to know what he was thinking.

"I saw supplies were running low and was thinking of doing some hunting later… a good hearty stew might be what the others need to recover," rushing his words out before casting his eyes to the ground. "I, erm… I was wondering if you wanted to join me?"

"What? Because I'm the only other person sober enough to safely use a weapon right now?" you teased.

"That's one reason, but I'd also like some good company."

You stood gobsmacked as he turned away from you, quickly making his way over to Taima, pulling something from her saddle.

"I… I'd like to spend time with you too, but I'm afraid my pistol is no good for hunting." You hung your head in disappointment, mentally kicking yourself that this could be your one chance to be alone with the man you'd admired for all these months - and you've lost it because you never took the time to invest in decent hunting equipment.

"I can help you with that," Charles told you, pulling out an ornate looking bow and handing it to you. "I made it… for your birthday."

"For me?" Shocked by his act of kindness, you traced your fingers over each of the detail engravings that ran along each of the limbs, tears starting to cloud your vision. "This is beautiful, but are you sure you mean to give this to me?"

"Of course… a beautiful bow for a beautiful lady.” A sudden flash of fear crossed Charles’ eyes as he realised what he had just said, his body tensing.

"You… think I'm beautiful?" Your eyes looking deep into his, searching for the truth.

He nodded. "The most beautiful creature I have ever laid eyes on… I'm sorry, I didn't mean to put you on the spot like that. If it's too awkward, we can just forget the hunting…"

He stopped mid-sentence as you kissed his cheek, his body relaxing as he realised he hadn't made a mistake in telling you.

"It's not awkward at all, I've liked you for a long time but I could never work out if the feeling is mutual." You gently thumbed his cheek, "Let's go on this hunting trip and talk about this in private shall we?" You suggested as you signaled for Charles to see what you could see.

Stood behind him was a small audience of John and Mary-Beth, both of whom were grinning over to you both.

Charles playfully rolled his eyes and walked you away from their gaze.

"Sounds like a good idea, wanna head out now?"

"Lead the way Mr. Smith." You held out your hand and he gladly took hold.

"Oh wait, you'll need some of these too" he reached back into his saddle to hand you a bunch of arrows… only to be confused as he heard you laughing.

"What's so funny?" Charles asked, trying to read your expression.

"Nothing… just looks like Cupid's arrows found me after all."

Charles' POV

14th Feb 1899

“I’ll take over here if you want,” John grumbled, clutching his face as he approached where Charles was currently taking up guard duty in the wooded area on the outskirts of camp. “I reckon my Valentine's night is as good as over.”

Charles turned to face his campmate, the moonlight showing a fresh red looking handprint across John's cheek. "You blew it with Abigail then?"

"Yep, I pushed my luck just a little too much," John chuckled lightly, "But I'm sure I'll survive. Go on, you go enjoy yourself… I saw [y/n] looking all lonesome up there, she could probably do with some company."

John waggled his eyebrows as Charles pretended to scowl; alcohol had given him loose lips one night and he had ended up confiding in Arthur and John about his feelings about the camp lady he'd taken a shine to. But he couldn’t hold the expression for long as a smile crept over his lips he thought about you.

"I'll probably just get some shut-eye instead, but I have been busy making this for her." He lifted up a beautiful bow that was resting against a nearby trunk. "It's her birthday tomorrow and she mentioned once she'd be interested in learning to hunt properly."

"You're a big old softie, ain't you Charles Smith?" John chuckled. "Well, I'm sure she'll appreciate the thought."

“Don’t you go ruining my reputation, John,” he laughed, making his way to the clearing where all the gang's horses grazed peacefully.

Taima looked up, nickering as she saw her owner nearby.

“Just a passing visit for now girl, but we can go out on a ride tomorrow,” he whispered to her, stroking her neck as she nuzzled against him. “In the meantime, I want you to keep this safe for me.” Charles lifted his saddle onto the hitching post that Taima was attached to, and carefully placed the bow into the holster on it. She watched her owner with curiosity, her ears pricking up as heard Charles rummaging in his saddlebag to retrieve an apple to reward his trusted Appaloosa for her loyalty.

The music was still playing as he walked back into camp, only this time it was Pearson’s accordion and Uncle’s banjo that filled the air as Miss Grimshaw sang a bawdy song. It was clear that the party wasn't ending anytime soon, but that wasn't going to stop Charles from trying to get some sleep. Heading towards his tent, he found himself looking around for a quick glance of his heart's desire, only for you to crash straight into him.

"Whoa, careful there," he told you, gently placing his hands upon your arms to help stop you from falling over on the spot. He could have swore he felt a jolt of electricity flowing through his veins as his skin touched yours.

"Sorry Charles, I… I… I hadn't realised you'd finished your shift already. Want a drink?"

"I'm okay thank you, I was gonna try and get some sleep… and I think you should too - big day tomorrow isn't it?" A flash of confusion crossed your face and Charles began to doubt himself. "Oh, I thought you'd mentioned the other day that it was your birthday? Maybe I got it wrong?"

"Oh my word, yes it is," you gasped in wonderment. "I can't believe you remembered."

"Guess I just have a good memory for special occasions," he grinned, brushing a loose hair from your face without thinking, before catching himself and moving his hand away.

Not really wanting the moment to be over but knowing he must tear himself away lest he stay admiring you all night, he cleared his throat.

"Well we best both go get some shut eye before the sun comes up. Good night and sweet dreams."

Making the short walk back to his own tent, his heart soared as he thought back over your reaction to him remembering your birthday. Now he couldn’t wait to see how you would react to your present.

Settling on his bed roll, he watched you draw your tent closed before allowing himself finally sleep and dream of you.

Charles found himself waking at the crack of dawn, just as the last few stragglers were stumbling towards their bedrolls . Realising he could effectively have the tranquillity of camp to himself, he gladly jumped up and set about getting ready for a new day.

Firstly he made his way over to Pearson’s wagon to grab a few coffee beans and started brewing a fresh pot. Noticing the meat supplies were running dangerously low, Charles made a mental note to go out hunting later and wondered if this could be the ideal opportunity to ask the birthday girl to join him.

While he waited for that certain someone to wake up, he had already stoked the fires back to life and disposed of the empty bottles that were scattered all around camp before finally enjoying a short break with a fresh cup of coffee.

It wasn't until he had made a start on chopping wood he had heard footsteps behind him and smiled to himself as he looked over to see [y/n] making her way over to the coffee pot.

“I figured everybody would be wanting some when they woke up,” Charles chuckled, walking up to her with an armful of logs for the campfire.

“I’d say; seems they all had a lot to celebrate,” she laughed in that sweet way that made Charles’ feel all warm inside as she poured a cup. “You want one?” asking as she offered the mug in her hand towards him.

“I’m okay thanks, I had one before I made a start on tidying the place up," he explained, walking over towards where the chopped wood was to be stored.

“Oh trust me, I wouldn’t worry too much about that today - Grimshaw will have such a headache, she'll be far more focused on getting all the quieter jobs done,"

Charles chuckled as he carefully placed the firewood down before realising this was his chance and turned his attention back to you.

"Oh I bet," grinning with a twinkle in his eyes. "Actually, I have an idea that might help keep camp running smoothly and stop people grumbling.'

"Oh?" you asked, tilting your head with curiosity.

He had noticed in the past that each time you asked a question about something that had piqued your interest, you would often tilt your head in this way and found it utterly adorable.

"I was thinking of doing some hunting later… a good hearty stew might be what the others need to recover," Charles rushed his words out before looking away bashfully. "I, erm… I was wondering if you wanted to join me?"

"What? Because I'm the only other person sober enough to safely use a weapon right now?" she smirked, and he felt his insides flip-flop. She was so damn beautiful.

"That's one reason, but I'd also like some good company," he told her, quickly turning to go fetch the bow from Taima’s saddle.

"I… I'd like to enjoy your company too, but I'm afraid my pistol is no good for hunting." She lowered her head in what seemed to be disappointment.

"I can help you with that," Charles told her, carefully placing the bow in her hands. "I made it….for your birthday."

"For me?" He watched as she traced her fingers over the engravings he spent so much time on, hoping the tears brimming in her eyes were because she was overjoyed. "This is beautiful… but are you sure it's for me?"

"Of course… a beautiful bow for a beautiful lady.” He kicked himself inwardly for saying it aloud,

"You… think I'm beautiful?" Your eyes looking deep into his, searching for the truth.

He nodded. "The most beautiful creature I have ever laid eyes on… I'm sorry, I didn't mean to put you on the spot like that. If it's too awkward, we can just forget the hunting…"

He stopped mid-sentence as you kissed his cheek. The feeling of embarrassment replaced by one feeling like he could soar into the sky right now.

"It's not awkward at all, I've liked you for a long time but I could never work out if the feeling is mutual." Gently thumbing his cheek, you suggested, "Let's go on this hunting trip and talk about this in private shall we?"

He followed your gaze to see Mary-Beth and John grinning at you both as they stood by their tents.

Playfully rolling his eyes, Charles guided you away from their gaze.

"Sounds like a good idea, wanna head out now?"

"Lead the way Mr. Smith." You held out your hand and he gladly took hold.

"Oh wait, you'll need some of these too" he reached back into his saddle to hand you a bunch of arrows… only to be confused as he heard you laughing.

"What's so funny?" Charles asked, hoping thewhole entire moment wasn't a set up so camp could make fun of him

"Nothing… just looks like Cupid's arrows found me after all"

#fangirl writes #charles smith x f!reader #charles smith x female reader #rdr2 fanfic #rdr secret cupid 2021 #fluff

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iamdunn · 3 years

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Miraculous Flash Forward Part 16: Familiar Enemies

A Miraculous Fan-Fic

Written By

AJ Dunn

It had been years since the four of them had done this, it made them all feel like children again as they walked around Paris looking for Andre. The sun was beginning to descend casting hues of pink and orange across the blue sky.

“It’s the most romantic time of day.” Marinette said. “I bet we’ll find him by the Seine.”

“I agree, Andre never could miss a romantic opportunity.” Alya agreed. Nino took her hand as they ran like children towards the bridge. This was where the Liberty used to dock all the time. Adrien remembered when all of their friends would gather on this bank to eat Andre’s ice cream and listen to Kitty Section. He had always wanted it to be Marinette that he shared an ice cream with, but she always denied having feelings for him, no matter how hard he fished for it. He smiled down at her as they waited behind Nino and Alya to get their ice cream for the first time.

“Uhh… Marinette, what a vision of perfection, and Young Adrien is a man fit for her protection…” His face seems more delighted to see them together than pretty much anyone else. “Mint for his emerald starre, Black Cherry for the beautiful lives you will share, Your love is as destined as the stars astuc upon the sea. You two were always meant to be.” he handed Adrien the cone as Marinette and Alya giggled. They sat down by the Seine for old times sake as they reminisced.

“Wait, you finally proposed?” Nino wasn’t quiet. “Did she say yes?”

“Well, no, she kinda just babbled for a few minutes until I just kissed her and that was the end of it.” Adrien looked at her cheeks now flushed then spooned a bite of ice cream into her mouth.

“Do you guys hear that?” Alya said as everyone quieted to listen. There was music playing nearby, band music. They all stood up and headed down the bank of the Seine until they found the source.

“The Liberty.” they all shouted in unison as they ran towards it. The gangplank was up and they could see their old friends playing. Luka and Julek on guitars. Ivan on the drums. Mylene, and Zoe, seated on actual seats rather than box’s. There were two small square tables now on the deck with four chairs each. Mylene and Zoe were seated at one table. The song came to an abrupt end as Adrien crossed the gangplank with Marinette’s hand in his. They were following Alya and Nino, but when the song ended it was the moment Luka’s eyes caught Adriens.

“It’s about time.” Luka set his guitar down and ran to the couple. He threw his arms around Adrien’s neck pulling him tight into a hug. They were nearly the same height but Luka was still rather thin compared to the musculature tone of Adriens chest and shoulders. “I knew you two were roommates, and there had been rumors that you were more.” he said as he pulled away. The turned his attention to Marinette giving her a hug, stooping to reach her shoulders.

“Adrien...Adrien...Adrien.” the band called to him urging him to join them on stage. Adrien blushed as he pulled out a seat for Marinette. Alya and Nino sat down at the empty table with Marinette. Zoe and Mylene moved their chairs and pushed the two tables together so they could all sit together. Adrien stepped up to the keyboard.

“I haven’t played in so long.” He confessed. “But uh, can you guys do this.” he hit a few notes mimicking a tune for a song.

“Bad Romance, hell yeah.” Luka said.

“I don’t know the words to that one.” Rose said, as she was the main singer.

“Let me handle this one.” Adrien smiled. He looked over at Marinette. She hadn’t been listening so he started playing out the tune. The audience stopped talking and watched. The upbeat music took over as Adrien began to sing the lyrics. Juleka almost missed her beat as she was caught off guard. Rose stood quietly listening to him before she too began to sing, didn’t know all of the lyrics, but she knew the harmony.

“Adrien, I always knew you a lot more rock & roll and a lot less piano solo.” Luka smiled. “Another one?” Adrien smiled at Marinette who’s eyes locked on his. Adrien nodded. Adrien started playing a tune, Luka recognized it and began playing along with Juleka as Ivan stilled his drums to watch.

Adrien's voice rose up as he sang a song that often played in his mind when he was with Marinette. It was Perfect, by Ed Sheeran. The crowd awed as the words slipped softly from his lips as he played his eyes lost in hers. He watched her face glow. Her hands folded together under her chin. He almost lost his words as her eyes twinkled with the love he felt for her. When the line about having children came, she blushed and turned her eyes away. He hadn’t gone that far with her, not yet. He wanted to, so badly it hurt, but he was holding on to the one thing he had never given anyone, he wouldn’t give it away that easily and he was sure she had never experienced it either.

The night out on the town had been a well needed break from the twins. They were spending the night with Tom & Sabine, in Marinette’s old bedroom. They were happy to get to bake cookies and Tom was excited to teach them. Adrien mused over what it would be like to have grandchildren and this was his trial run.

Adrien and Marinette made transformed into Cat and Ladybug for a high rise tour of the city. A means to get back to the people they used to be. This time, as they ran from rooftop to rooftop with Adrien’s cat puns and jests, Marinette returned his jokes with snarky playful comments in response. Adrien was happy she had stopped shutting down his playful side and let herself enjoy it. The one hesitancy he had to let her have all of him, was her inability to accept all of him. He had worried that she only saw the sunshine boy that his father had made him out to be, and that she wouldn’t accept him for who he really was.

“I hope you can love this side of me,” He said as he collided with her in mid-air. He hung by one arm suspended under a street lamp as he clung to her with the other. “Because this is who I truly am. Not that.” He looked up to see an old poster of him from his modeling days sprawled out on a street advert. It was from his fragrance commercial. Suddenly and before their eyes, the images changed to photos from the days his father made him pose with Lila. She was kissing him, but he never kissed her on the lips. A pink heart was around their faces as the close up showed them locked in a loving embrace.

“What the…” Adrien lost his grip on the lamp post as he and Ladybug slipped to the street below.

“Adrien.” Marinette said, staring at the image. “You and Lila?”

“I never have,” he said angrily. “This is fake. But how.” Ladybug swung her yo-yo angrily at the poster knowing that vandalism was a crime didn’t change the ache in her heart. The image dissolved into smoke and an image of Kitty Section took it’s place.

“A mirage.” Ladybug said.

“Vulpina?”

“But how, Hawk Moth was the only way she could receive her powers.” Ladybug thought for a second. “Trixx.” She called Alya,

“Do you have Trixx, are you still wearing your…”

“Slow down girl, yeah of course. Why?” Ladybug sighed and told her about the mirage. They heard a maniacal laugh coming from the rooftops and quickly descended, letting her phone call go. They scout the town until they saw her coming towards them. It was Rena Rouge.

“I came as quickly as I could.” Rena said. “Where…” they could hear the laughter again coming from an adjacent rooftop.

“You will never be as powerful as me, Rena Rouge.” The voice came from the supervillain Vulpin.

“You’re just a bad copy from an old book.’ Cat yelled back. The three stood on the rooftop ready for whatever she would send their way.

“Hawk Moth will give me any power I want,” She sang into the air.

“Hawk Moth?” the three said together. In an instant, the maniac was gone. She was just another illusion. The three separated, agreeing to meet up later to discuss what just happened.

“Felix?” Marinette asked as they sat on the couch in his room. “I hate to think he is Hawk Moth, but…”

“It fits. I mean he was the last one to have the broach, he disappeared before the end of the tempest battle, and…”

“He’s been missing ever since.” Marinette finished.

“I uh, had someone make up the next room for you…”

“OH…” Marinette folded an arm over her chest draping her hand on her shoulder. “Okay.”

“I mean, you said…” Adrien scratched the back of his neck for a minute as he stood up looking at his childhood bed. They had slept together before, but it wasn’t a regular thing. He stripped off his t-shirt and tossed it on the floor. Looking back down at her as she sat on the couch. Her face slowly turned up as her eyes traced the lines on his belly to the lines on his chest. Her face glowed brightly until they locked eyes.

“Well?” He offered her his hand. She took it as she stood up. He guided her to his bed. He pulled back the blankets on the side she normally slept on and pulled her to it laying her down. They had already put on their pajamas, however, he liked to sleep with as little on as possible when he slept alone. However, with her in his bed, he didn’t trust his own self-control without a few layers between them.

She clung to his hand as he stood at the side of the bed. He dove over her making the bed bounce. She giggled as he playful rolled around messing up the blankets. She scruffed his wild blond hair before he straightened himself laying his head on the pillow only centimeters from her face.

“Silly Kitty.” Marinette rolled to her side and faced him.

“I hope this doesn’t BUG you.” he played.

“You’re imPAWsible.” she giggled. He loved it when she used cat puns. He kissed her lips as his hand weaved through her hair. He pulled her into him as her hands wrapped around his waist, throwing one leg over him. She maneuvered her body till he was on his back with her straddling him. He shuddered as he felt her warmth on him. Her kiss, hungry for his.

His hands held her at her hips as her chest lay flatly on his, her hands now in his hair. Oh, if only he had his Cat suit on. It enhanced all of his senses and was the kind of protection he needed right now to give him the resolve to not go too far. He twitched his fingers into her sides tickling her in hopes of breaking this hold, knowing he didn’t have the will to stop it. She began to squirm on him. Her hips moving from side to side as they rubbed on his…. He gasped. Had he known she would move like that he would have thought twice about it.

“Adrien.” She stopped to look at his face. She must have seen the look on his face as she settled down putting all of her weight onto his hips. Suddenly she shot up on her knees lifting her weight from him. He gripped her hips so she wouldn’t go too far.

“Shh.” He brought one hand up to her face cupping it gently before bringing it to meet him. Their lips locked again as she settled herself back down to his hips. Her face had brightened to a red he had never seen before and it broke him, he didn’t think he had the will to stop. Suddenly there was a noise at the window. They both jumped from bed to see what it was. The light in the bedroom blocked out the view of the darkened city outside. Adrien ran to the switch, turning the light off. There was a figure standing on the rooftop across the street, someone was watching them. They ran to the window but the figure ran from the rooftop.

Marinette sat on the bed shivering. Adrien put his arm around her trying to comfort her.

“Someone was watching us.” She squeaked embarrassed at the compromising position they had been seen in. “Were they taking pictures?” That is certainly what the sound was, a camera click without a flash. Adrien often kept the window open but he closed it and set the lock. He noticed something attached to the window. A note. Attached to a suction dart clung to the window.

‘Enjoy what you have now

Before I take it all

YOU WILL BE MINE!

“What is it?” Marinette asked from the bed. He handed her the note. She dropped it the instant her eyes saw the words. A shriek left her mouth. “Do you think it was meant for you or me?” Adrien looked back at the window.

“If it was Vuplina.” He paused.

“Then it was meant for you.” Marinette finished. “Lila has always wanted you, and would do anything to get rid of her competition.”

“What do you say? We check out the room across the hall, the windows there are less visible to outsiders.” He took her hand and led her across the hall.

Marinette left the house before Adrien woke up. She had spent all morning searching the internet for someone. Alix wasn’t in France anymore, in fact she was participating in extreme sports in Florida. Marinette pulled out the horse miraculous and merged it with Tikki. She used a portal to plop herself into Alix’s bedroom. She was still asleep but at least she was alone. Pegabug woke her up. Alix sat up rubbing her eyes trying to make out the figure before her.

“Is it time?” Alix asked as she sat up.

“I think it is, Someone has the Butterfly Miraculous, and now Vulpina is back.” Alix was suddenly awake. She remembered how much chaos the illusionist caused especially during Heros day. “I think you will know when to use this.” She handed her the pocket watch then went over the instructions for how to use the Kwami’s power after introducing her to Fluff again.

“Should I come back to Paris?” Alix asked.

“I think you will be fine, better safe to keep your distance, just monitor everything from here.” Pegabug then made another portal. Good thing she had built up the strength to use her power more than once before needing to recharge. She returned to the manor and found Adrien standing in front of her.

“Did you give Alix the bunny?” He asked. Pegabug released her transformation and nodded. “Good, we need to call Luka.” He said picking up his phone.

“NO, we need to call EVERYONE.” Marinette said. “NO one but us can know about Alix. and only because you have known as long as I have that she would one day be Bunnyx.” Adrien called Luka while Marinette and Alya. They were calling a team meeting at the one place Lila didn’t know about. The Barge.

The band was playing by the time Adrien and Marinette arrived. They had to stop by the bakery to make sure the girls weren’t causing too much trouble. Luka, Juleka, Rose and Ivan jammed out a beat as Mylene, Zoe, Alya, Nino, Max, Kim, and Kagami, sat at the tables. The music died down as the band set their instruments aside.

“Shall we all go downstairs.” Luka walked everyone inside. The Living room area was large enough for the whole group with a large sectional style couch wrapping around the wall leaving a large enough area for the band to practice if they chose too. Everyone but Marinette and Adrien sat down.

“We have an announcement to make.” Adrien started, his arm around Marinette’s shoulders. “We are getting married.”

“Finally.” the whole group said together as they all began to mutter amongst themselves about how long it had taken for them to finally see the moon through the stars. Something that was so obvious, that everyone else seemed to know but they were always too blinded by the stars to see it. Adrien could feel the heat in his cheeks as a shy smile spread on his face. He was still kicking himself for being so oblivious of Marinette in high school. He knew she liked him, but thought it was only his model status and her desire to become a designer, nothing more. She never thought she was good enough for him.

“That isn’t the only news.” the crowd hushed as Marinette spoke up. “Mylene wasn’t the first of us to receive the Mullo, the mouse miraculous, I was.” Marinette confessed. Alya, Luka and Adrien were the only ones to know the truth of this group. So keeping Ladybugs secret was imperative.

“And I am Aspik, I held Sass before Luka did.” He said with a shy smirk. “I wasn’t very good at it, but I am close friends with Chat, we play video games together and…”

“Talk about how horrible the rich boy's life is together?” Luka jokes. “You rich boys were probably skiing in the Alps.”

“Wait, Cat Noir is rich?” Ivan asked.

“Richer than I am.” Adrien confessed scratching the back of his neck.

“Ladybug and Cat Noir found us this morning, they had followed a suspicious person to our window. Where they found this.” Marinette helped up the note.

“So it was Vulpina.” Alya said. The group began to mutter worried about the illusions that nearly ruined everything for everyone.

“Who is Vulpina anyway?” Kim asked.

“Lila.” Marinette said. “The master of Lies and illusions.” Shock fell on the faces of the group. They had all believed her lies and coddled her even against Marinette who they all agreed was the most honest of them all.

“We will all stand together again.” Luka stood up putting his fist into the center of the room. Zoe and Juleka joined him. Kim, who was always up for a competition, was next. Soon everyone stepped in as Adrien and Marinette refrained. “Get in here.” Luka smiled knowingly at them. They added their fists to the bump.

#miraculous fandom #ladynoir #miraculous chat noir #adrienette #miraculous ladybug #marichat #miraculous world #felix graham de vanily #adrien agreste #Adrien Graham De Vanily #vulpina #hawk moth #miraculous luka #luka couffaine #rose x juleka #king monkey #purple tigress

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sareyen · 4 years

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X-Pressions of the Heart: A Boyband AU (Part 3/3)

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Chapter 3

It was a week later, but the morning began very much the same as it had every other morning since Charles and Erik slept together.

Erik woke up first, immediately rolling over onto his side and reaching his long limbs out to curl around the bundle of heat he knew was sleeping in the bed next to him. Hands met smooth skin that smelled like soap and fabric softener, warmed by the blanket and so, so cuddly.

Erik let out a content sigh, burying his face in the dip of Charles’s spine, breathing him in. The younger man was still asleep, chest rising and falling as he lay on his side, one arm under his head.

Knowing that it was still too early to awaken since Charles’s alarm hadn’t gone off yet, Erik let himself sink into Charles’s heat, closing his eyes as he languidly nuzzled at Charles’s back, like a cat rubbing up against his owner’s leg.

It was as Erik was beginning to doze off again that Charles woke up with a soft chuckle, reaching down to clasp Erik’s hand that hung across his waist.

“Mm, you feel like you’re very comfortable there,” Charles said, voice croaky from sleep. Erik laughed into the slope of Charles’s upper back, kissing his skin there. Charles brought Erik’s hand up to his mouth to kiss it, before adjusting himself in Erik’s loose embrace to face him. “Good morning.”

“Morning,” Erik replied, kissing Charles’s red mouth, before pulling back. “Coffee?”

“Ugh, yes please. I’m going to need two if I’m going to get through the stage rehearsals today. You really wrung me out last night,” Charles said, scrunching up his face as he yawned, flopping back on the bed as Erik climbed out of it. Charles did not hide the way he stared at Erik’s nude ass as he pulled out a fresh pair of briefs from a drawer in Charles’s wardrobe, Erik turning around and rolling his eyes.

“How your fans actually believe that you’re an innocent man is beyond me,” Erik said, walking back over the bed to lean over and kiss Charles again, before leaving to make the two of them some coffee.

Charles spent a few more minutes in bed just checking messages on his phone, replying to Moira’s “just making sure you’re awake, rehearsal at 9, remember” text and responding to some more messages from Raven, one of which was link to a very interesting article that made Charles grin. Charles read over the article quickly and screenshotted some key bits before rolling out of bed as well. Like Erik, Charles pulled on some underwear, but also an oversized and fluffy knit jumper which hung just below the swell of his ample ass, sleeves long and falling over his hands.

Erik was stirring Charles’s usual (blasphemous) order of vanilla syrup, caramel and cream into his pastel tie-dye mug, and was about to squirt the customary cone of whipped cream on top of it when Charles entered the kitchen. The singer looped his arms around Erik’s middle and squeezed him tight. Erik just hummed, smiling at the weight pressed against his back, fluffy and warm.

“Your mug of sugar,” Erik said, handing Charles the steaming hot cup with an affectionate eye roll, taking a sip out of his plain black coffee.

“You made my mug of sugar perfectly, thank you,” Charles said after taking a sip, licking at the whipped cream before kicking open the fridge with his foot, peering inside and not finding much at all. “Ugh, I’m running out of food. I’ll have to go grocery shopping sometime. I hate grocery shopping.”

“Only because people keep recognising you when you try to buy lube,” Erik said, Charles scrunching up his nose.

“Which is why you should buy the lube, darling.”

“Oh, sure,” Erik said, snorting. “Because God forbid your fans find out that you have sex.”

Charles laughed at that, pulling out his phone to show Erik the article he had screenshot just moments before, the German’s eyes narrowing as he read it, before his mouth broke out into a wide, toothy grin.

It showed a pretty blurry photo of Charles wearing a cap and glasses but not much else to hide his identity grabbing onto someone’s arm with a wide grin. The other person’s face was obscured by some shelving, but it was obvious that it was a man from his tall, muscular build.

“They’re calling you my ‘mystery boyfriend’,” Charles giggled, stepping closer to Erik to drag him into a sugary kiss, holding his diabetic concoction out of the way. “People are also saying that you turned me gay, apparently.”

“Not how it works,” Erik scoffed against Charles’s mouth, the singer just laughing.

“Hm, they’re not far from the truth, actually,” Charles said, grinning slyly. Erik raised a brow, Charles leaning into his arms, burying his face in Erik’s neck.

“I only really understood that I also liked guys when I saw your Azazel interview 8 years ago,” Charles said, chuckling in the crook of Erik’s neck, the older man’s arms coming around him.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” Charles echoed, closing his eyes and relishing the feel of Erik’s arms around him. “You were just so hot in that video, Erik. I couldn’t help myself.”

***

Erik was sitting in the audience area near the front of the stage as Charles and the rest of X-Boys worked out their marks on the concert stage. It was a large stadium, the stage a sleek black colour and spread out into the standing audience in a large X shape. The twisting light backdrop was fitted with many large TV screens that would project close ups of the band members’ faces.

As they practised the dance to ‘Sweet Love’, Charles would often wink at Erik, maintaining eye contact whenever he could, seeming to dance for Erik and Erik alone. When Charles was singing about Sweet Love and rolling his hips like that just for Erik, the journalist found that he could stomach the terrible lyrics. He would deny that his heart clenched every Charles would mouth ‘you’re my sweet love’ with a salacious wink though, squirming where he sat on a wobbling fold-out chair.

It really shouldn’t have been so… mesmerising. The song was still terrible, the lyrics still horrible, but somehow seeing Charles dancing and singing to Erik like he meant every ‘you’re my sweet love, your sweet love sustains me’, and Erik couldn’t help but smile like a fool, showing too many teeth.

When Charles broke formation on the stage, everyone else were confused, stopping mid-dance to look at Charles. The sound guy, Bobby, was also extremely confused, hand moving to stop the music. However, when he saw that Charles was still moving to the music, he just shrugged and gestured for the lighting man to focus on Charles.

Moira looked on with exasperation, head dropping into her hands as she mumbled ‘And here we go’. Hank tilted his head to the side, lost. Alex raised a brow and leaned back on his heels, curious. Darwin smiled a little, nodding his head in appreciation. Sean, on the other hand, was grateful to be given a break so he could have a snack.

“You’re my sweet love, darling,” Charles sang, Erik snorting when the man changed ‘baby’ to ‘darling’ like the cheesy thing he is, sauntering over to the edge of the stage and wiggling his finger at Erik, smirk on his lips. “Come here darling and give me your sweet love.”

Erik got up from his chair, rolling his eyes but walking towards Charles, the wiggle of his finger tugging on a string tethered to his chest and pulling him into the singer’s gravity. When Erik reached the edge of the stage, Charles dipped down low, dragging his index finger up Erik’s chin.

“You’re sweeter than melted chocolate and lemon drop candy,” Charles continued, wiggling his hips dirtily, and suddenly the boyband stage turned into a strip club platform. All Charles would need was a pole and less clothes to complete the look, and everyone people were definitely whispering around them, but Erik didn’t care. He didn’t care at all when Charles leaned down to nip at Erik’s mouth, quickly and teasingly. The moment he did so, the stadium erupted with a mixture of excited gasps and loud cheers, Charles grinning cheekily. The touch only lasted a moment because Charles stood up again to spin before dropping his ass low again, this time fisting the front of Erik’s shirt firmly, planting a wet and sticky kiss on Erik’s mouth.

“Mhmm, sweeter than melted chocolate and lemon drop candy,” Charles murmured against his mouth, the contact broken when Erik burst out with an endeared (but also mildly horrified because the line was so bad) laugh.

“Terrible,” Erik snorted, Charles pulling back with an indignant remark that was rendered obsolete when Erik shook his head and pulled Charles back down. The singer giggled, dropping himself so his legs hung over the edge of the stage, Erik nestled between them, and let the journalist kiss him in full view of everyone filthily, reminiscent of their morning make-out session that left them running a little late to rehearsals.

The supportive cheers and enthusiastic wolf-whistles were suddenly cut short when someone shouted “Cut the fucking music!”, Bobby scrabbling to pull back the sound dials. Everyone turned to the source of the noise, including Charles and Erik who both look mildly put-off at having to pull their mouths off each other. Shaw, the epicentre of the loud noise, stormed across the stage while waving an iPad around wildly in his hand, eyes locked on Charles.

“What,” Shaw spat, “is the meaning of this?!” The man’s face was red as he stomped his way towards Charles and Erik, soon dragging the back of Charles’s plain T-shirt with his arms and wrenching him up. Charles yelped as the fabric snagged his neck, wincing in pain when he was hauled up to his feet. Erik glared daggers at Shaw, growling and grabbing at the edge of the stage to haul himself up and drag Shaw by the neck of his black silk shirt.

“Get your fucking hands off him,” Erik warned, voice low; he sounded relatively calm, but there was a dangerous quality to his voice that made the stage workers, lighting crew and sound people widen their eyes and scuttle off.

Shaw whirled to Erik, shoving a meaty finger into his chest, so hard that it would probably bruise. Erik didn’t back down though, shoving Shaw’s chest back, lips pulled back in a snarl. When Shaw stumbled back, Erik moved himself to stand between him and Charles, shielding the smaller man behind him. Erik felt a little better when Charles grabbed onto the back of his shirt, hand smoothing over his lower back comfortingly.

“You…” Shaw seethed, looking like he was about to slam the iPad over Erik’s head for a moment, before deciding that Erik’s taller and slightly broader stature was disadvantageous to him, instead just shoving the screen at Erik’s face. “You’re to blame as well, you bastard. Care to fucking explain this?!”

The screen showed a similar article to the one Charles had been sent by Raven that morning, and when Charles recognised some of the pictures he laughed, peering around Erik’s side with bright eyes.

“Oh, Erik! Look, there are some other photos. Those angles are much more flattering, my left side has always been better than my right. You look rather dashing too, it’s almost unfair. So photogenic,” Charles gushed, smiling up at Erik, who just scoffed.

“You don’t have a bad side, Charles,” Erik said, Charles looking at him fondly, before winking.

“Of course not, darling. My right side it good, it’s only that my left is even better.”

“So humble,” Erik said, returning Charles’s smile with one of his own. The two were about to kiss, ignoring Shaw completely, when the man screeched again.

“This is unbelievable! You two will fuck up everything I’ve worked for!” Shaw roared. “I will not let X-Boys be ruined by a pair of fucking homos!”

“And what are you going to do about it? If you’re going to get me to break up with Erik, I will not,” Charles asked, nose scrunching up at Shaw’s blatant homophobia, hand tightening at Erik’s back. Charles’s words tickled Erik’s heart, but the warm feeling was stunted by Shaw’s disgusting rampage. Instead, Erik mirrored Charles’s affronted expression, looking at Shaw like he was rotten garbage stinking up the entire stage.

“I can fire you, Xavier!” Shaw threatened, wiggling his finger at the two men. “I made you, Charles! I own you! You would never have become what you are without me! You’re choosing your boyfriend over me, over your fame, your success. You’re nothing without me!”

“Sure, fire me the week before our world tour starts. That would be great for your business,” Charles said, voice flat as he glared at Shaw. His blue eyes that were usually liquid oceans languidly rolling with waves under the sun had hardened to arctic shards of ice.

Shaw gnashed his teeth together, finger shaking at Charles but seemingly unable to find the words, Charles’s use of the word business a slap to the face.

“Xavier you… I will not let you ruin this! I will not have a fag in my band, and don’t you go thinking that I actually need you! I can fire your little homo ass and you would never even-” Shaw continued, but was stopped when the opening beat of ‘Love Me, Hate Me’ started to blare from the surrounding speakers, drowning out his voice. Everyone jumped at the sudden noise, looking up to the sound booth where Alex and Darwin were.

“What is the meaning of-” Shaw screamed, but was cut off when Alex spoke, still hooked up to his microphone, voice carrying across the stage.

“If you’re going to start firing people because of their sexual orientation, you won’t have much of a band, Shaw,” Alex said, Darwin chuckling beside him.

“What?” Shaw asked, eyes narrowing as his hands balled into shaking fists of rage at his sides.

“Hands up if you’re not straight!” Alex shouted through the microphone, immediately raising his hand. Darwin laughed beside him, hand going up as well, Shaw’s mouth dropping open as his eyes widened to saucers. Charles grinned, raising his hand and moving to stand beside Erik, linking his free hand with the journalist’s.

Shaw saw his life (and paycheck) flashing before his eyes, immediately turning to Hank and Sean who were still on the stage.

Hank slowly raised his hand, cheeks a little red but giving Charles a small, supportive smile. Sean was a little confused, looking at his band mates who were all raising their hands for some reason, joining in even though he had no idea what was going on.

“So, there you have it,” Charles chirped happily, wiggling his fingers in the air. “Now, I’m sure that, uh, you don’t want your lucrative little business to suffer because you no longer have any employees, Shaw. And I also don’t think you want us to sue you for unfair dismissal either…”

“And I definitely don’t think you want the video to be released on the internet,” Alex called out from the sound booth, down towards the side of the stage, where Moira was filming everything on her phone. Shaw paled, everything he had said in the past five minutes replaying over and over in his head.

“Erik, you don’t happen to have any journalist friends who would be interested in a story about a record boss who abuses his employees and discriminates based on sexual orientation, do you?” Charles asked the man beside him, who made a show of thinking carefully, nodding with his eyes locked onto Shaw’s.

“I have a few contacts… I’m sure TMZ would be interested too, though,” Erik said, Charles humming.

“Oh, yes, I’m sure! I wonder what would happen if they managed to get a hold of the video…”

Shaw’s face flashed red and white, the man pointing his fingers uselessly at all of the band members, Erik and Moira, before stomping his way back out looking like a toddler not getting what he wanted after a dramatic temper tantrum.

Everyone stared after the man who was, still, their boss. Erik glared at him all the way until he disappeared backstage, before turning to Charles.

“I really do have some contacts, you know,” he told Charles seriously, the singer just letting out a breathy laugh, kissing the corner of his mouth.

“I’m sure you do,” Charles said, his band mates returning from the sound booth and heading towards him.

“What do we do now, Charles? Did we just… blackmail Shaw? Is that what just happened?” Moira asked, heading over from the wings of the stage, looking a little worried as she fiddled with her phone.

“Well, first we should contact the authorities, a lawyer, and probably the COO,” Charles said, smirking. “Mr Quested might be interested to know that his boss has been a very naughty boy, and that he could be in for a little promotion.”

“How devious, Charles,” Darwin laughed, patting the older man on the shoulder.

“Janos has always been a lot nicer than Shaw, and he honestly gets pushed around by the bastard as much as everyone else does,” Alex quipped, Sean and Hank nodding in agreement.

“So things will be alright?” Moira asked, brow still creased with worry.

“They will be,” Charles assured her, the boys around him all smiling at their manager. “If anything, under new management, things will be more than just alright.”

***

Things were alright – better than alright, even. Sure, the next few days were tumultuous, with a power struggle erupting within Hellfire Records which escalated into a public ousting of a large player in the music industry. Shaw’s fall from grace had been dramatic, fiery and very, very well-covered by the press.

‘X-Boys’, ‘Hellfire Records’ and ‘Charles Xavier gay’ were all trending topics leading up to the start of the world tour in LA. The video of Shaw abusing Charles with homophobic slurs and threatening to fire him had ended up on the internet, Shaw immediately coming under fire by not only Charles Xavier and X-Boys fans, but also other members of the public and the music industry.

Fans tweeted and made posts screaming their support for their boys, other celebrities condemned Shaw’s words and praised Charles for his strength and bravery in the face of such hatred, while the LGBTQ community and their supporters all rallied behind Charles and his boyfriend, who had been revealed to be none other than harsh music journalist Erik Lehnsherr.

Of course, there were some haters – the homophobic bigots and keyboard warriors were given new ammunition and jumped out of the woodwork when the news story broke. Charles, who has had the voices of the public shouting in his ear since his audition on X Factor tuned them out with practised ease, but Erik was not so successful. Erik couldn’t care less about comments about himself, but when he read comments calling his Charles a ‘fag’ and other derogatory names, the older man saw red.

Erik was only stopped from unleashing an online tirade by Charles closing the screen of his laptop, pushing it off his lap and replacing it with himself – it turned out that Erik was an even more passionate lover in bed when he was riled up, much to Charles’s delight.

Despite the haters, the #CHERIK, #X-BOYS4EVA and #X-PRESSLOVENOTHATE tags were popular everywhere online, and only bolstered the hype for the beginning of X-Boys’ tour. The new CEO of Hellfire Records, Janos Quested, held a press conference to inform everyone that the company was under new management, and that the new Hellfire Records would support its artists no matter what.

With such public focus on the group, it was only natural that the media and paparazzi only became more eager to follow the members around, particularly Charles. People wondered about his sexuality, about whether he had been hiding it, or if this was all just a media ploy; Charles didn’t say anything, just smiled coyly for the cameras and thanked fans for all the support.

Like with the online comments, while Charles was used to the scrutiny, Erik was not; Erik was not unheard of, but as a journalist whose claim to fame was the written word, people knew of his name and prose but not much else. Now, his face was almost as famous as Charles’s.

Erik wouldn’t say he was comfortable about it – he was a more solitary man by nature, and he had lashed out at the throng of reporters and camera-wielding fiends that cloyed around him suffocatingly, shouting “Tell us about your relationship with Charles Xavier!” and “How long and you and Charles Xavier been dating?!” whenever they caught sight of him. Erik had yelled right back, telling them all to ‘fuck right off and leave him and Charles in peace’, glaring at cameras as he did so. If looks could shatter lenses, everyone was sure that no paparazzo would be left unscathed.

“How are you still able to smile at them when they constantly attack you like a pack of rabid dogs?” Erik grumbled, spent and a little sticky and lying on top of a boneless Charles Xavier, words muffled into the man’s chest. Charles laughed, kissing Erik softly on his head before beginning to card his fingers through Erik’s hair.

“I learnt to block them out, I suppose – learnt to shield my mind from them,” Charles said, hand pausing their soothing ministrations in Erik’s hair, making the man let out a noise of reproach at the ceased movements. Charles let out a short laugh again, his fingers resuming their comforting movements, before sighing.

“Erik…” Charles started, biting his lip. His lover let out a throaty noise to show that he was listening and not asleep (though two rounds of hot sex plus Charles’s calming fingers were very close to sending him off).

“Hm?”

“You don’t regret this, do you?” Charles asked, hesitantly. Erik frowned at Charles’s words, the man’s fingers pausing in his hair again.

“What makes you say that?” Erik asked, before freezing and pushing himself up onto his elbows to look at Charles seriously. “Do you regret it?”

“God, no!” Charles said quickly, shaking his head as Erik let out another throaty noise, flopping back down, appeased.

“Good. Because I don’t either,” Erik said, kissing Charles’s bare chest.

“You didn’t sign up for all… this, though,” Charles said, voice glum. “I like being surrounded by people, I like being social. I knew what I was getting into when I chose this career. But I’ve seen how you look when the paparazzi swarm around you. You don’t like that kind of attention, and I feel bad that, because of me, you have to-”

“Charles, shut up,” Erik said, rolling his eyes and shifting himself to pepper kisses against Charles’s stomach, working his way up his abs and chest as he spoke. Charles’s breath hitched. “I know where you’re going with this, and it’s stupid. Yes, I’m a music reporter and I’m not a celebrity, but I have hung around enough celebrities and been in the business long enough to know what it entails. Yes, the… publicity sucks, and I want to run over those reporters that camped in front of my shitty apartment complex the other day, but in the end it’s all worth it, because I get you. You’re worth it, Charles. So, just shut up and let me hold you.”

But the time Erik finished, his kisses had reached Charles’s lips, lingering there for a long while. When he pulled back, Charles’s eyes were a little watery, and his kiss-bitten lips curled in an awed, affectionate smile that radiated with the purest happiness.

“Has anyone ever told you that you are ridiculously sweet?” Charles asked, Erik snorting.

“No,” Erik replied, pecking Charles’s lips again. “I’m only sweet to you.”

“Like melted chocolate and lemon drop candy,” Charles mused, and Erik groaned, kissing the man again just to stop him from reciting those ghastly lyrics again.

“Charles, shut up.”

***

Erik stood with Moira to the side of the stage, out of the view of the audience but in a position that allowed them to watch the opening night of the X-Boys X-pression tour. Erik found himself smiling and tapping his foot to the beat of ‘Love Me, Hate Me’ as he watched Charles perform; under the stage lights and the screaming of fans, all of the members performed with more energy and passion than they had in rehearsals. The unabashed joy on Charles’s face as he performed for his fans warmed Erik’s heart.

It was obvious that Charles loved what he did. Sure, the songs he sang were terrible and his sparkling costume chafed in unmentionable places, but Charles was happy. He projected that happiness all over the stage, his smile wide and eyes brighter than the stage lights. Erik may not like the band’s music, but from the screams and tears of adoration from the crowd, Erik didn’t think that it was all bad. Music, in the end, existed to make people feel things, to inspire and captivate. Even though Erik knew that Charles could do more, sing songs like Paralysed that meant more, Charles was already doing something good – making people happy.

Erik could understand their fans a bit better now, he felt. Even if he still thought that ‘Sweet Love’ was the shittiest song of the 21st Century.

The final note of ‘Love Me, Hate Me’ played and the crowd went wild. Erik knew after sitting in on rehearsals that the climax and final song of the concert, ‘Sweet Love’, was up next (which was hilarious to Erik, since ‘Love Me, Hate Me’ essentially described his feelings for the song in question). Love Charles, hate the song.

“Thank you LA!” Sean shouted, the crowd responding with more screams. Alex and Hank smiled at their fans lining up closed at the X-shaped extensions from the stage, leaning down to high-five them as they walked back to the main portion of the stage.

“You have been a fantastic audience on our opening night,” Darwin said into his microphone, the big TV screen behind him showing a close-up of his handsome face, which turned to look at his band mates, who all smiled back at him.

“We’ve been saving the best until last,” Alex said as the fans began screaming again, the chorus of female voices chanting ‘Sweet Love, Sweet Love!’, making the X-Boys laugh. “You got it!”

“But first,” Hank said, voice soft as some stage hands began wheeling a grand piano onto the stage, four members of the X-Boys stepping out of the way while Charles stepped forward. Erik frowned at the movements on the stage – there hadn’t been any of this at any of the rehearsals, and Erik had gone to the final one just yesterday.

Charles turned to look at Erik with a smile then, hair sweaty after dancing, cheeks red with exertion and moisture making his shirt cling to his back a little – and he was absolutely beautiful. The camera focused on his face, blue eyes impossibly bright on the big TV screen.

“As you all know, a lot of things have happened over the past week,” Charles said, the crowd screaming ‘We love you Charles!’. The singer smiled at that, blowing a kiss towards the crowd, some girls reaching forwards like they could catch it. “Thank you! Thank you, for all of your well-wishes, for all of your support, and for your never-ending love! It means a lot to me, more than you all know.” The crowd aww’d at Charles’s words as the man began to walk to the piano that had been deposited in the middle. All of the lights focused on Charles, the other X-Boys disappearing into the shadowy background.

“Now, we’ve saved ‘Sweet Love’ for last, but before we get to that, I have to get something off my chest first,” Charles said, turning away from the crowd to look at Erik again. “You see, you have all shown me so much love, and I was inspired. You all know that, very recently, I’ve met someone, someone that is very important to me.”

The crowd roared to life, the TV screen showing the curve of Charles’s mouth, the warmth in his eyes. Erik was speechless, unable to look away from Charles, heart hammering.

Oh G’tt.

“I’ve written lots of songs before, some of them silly like ‘MSG and Me’, and other heavy like ‘Paralysed’. I’ve written songs that no one has heard but the walls of my shower, and some that I’ve left unfinished. Those unfinished songs, you see, all had one similarity,” Charles said, the crowd quietening, reeled in by Charles’s voice, which softened.

Charles was no longer speaking to stadium full of people, nor to a camera. No, under the spotlight, everything else faded away – everything except Erik. It was him that Charles was speaking to now, him and no one else.

“I could never finish those songs because, well, they were all love songs,” Charles said, letting out a laugh. “I could never finish them because I didn’t know what it was like to love someone. At least, not until now.”

“Fuck,” Erik said, unable to say anything else, his mind a storm of ‘G’tt, Charles, you cheesy bastard, fuck, he’s so beautiful, I love him, fuck, how the heck does he exist’.

“Now, someone has shown me what it’s like to love, and I was able to finish writing a love song for the first time,” Charles said, smiling at Erik as he stepped backwards, before slowly seating himself at the piano. He pulled off the microphone taped to the side of his face, and adjusted the one in the stand hovering next to the piano.

“This is that song,” Charles said, the crowd screaming while Erik covered his mouth, not sure what to do with the feelings about to overflow inside him. On the TV screen, Charles’s fingers could be seen pressing against the keys gently, piano music wafting through the stadium. As his fingers moved through the introduction of the song, Charles kept speaking.

“I know I talk a lot, but there are some things that are hard for even me to say with words,” Charles said, smiling. “So, I put them all into this song. I hope you understand.”

‘I do,’ Erik answered silently as he watched, enraptured.

“This song is dedicated to the person I love,” Charles said, Erik choking. “It’s called ‘Not Alone When I’m With You.”

Charles was silent, letting his fingers glide across the keys. His chest swelled as he took in a breath for one beat, two beats, three beats.

Then he sang.

And Erik almost collapsed under the weight of his love.

‘Your magnetic field, you drew me in, I saw you when I was adrift, In a sea all alone, I didn’t even know what I was looking for, Until I saw you, and felt your mind, You glowed so bright, a beacon in the nothingness, You pulled me ashore, and kept me warm, Your words, oh, your words, You whispered them but I could hear clear, Straight into my mind, you opened up, Made me feel like I’d never felt before, And darling, no matter what happens, If the world is against us, even if we’re worlds apart, I’ll find you, I want to be by your side, Because you made me realise that I’m not alone, Because I’m not, not when I’m with you.’

When Charles finished singing, the piano fading out as his hands slipped from its keys, everything was silent; the crowd were stunned into noiselessness, tears streaming down their faces as they watched completely slack-jawed. The song was beautiful, and was awash with all of the colours of Charles’s heart – it was more honest than anything the X-Boys had released before, and held emotion that ‘Sweet Love’ could only aspire to behold. It was honest because it was Charles’s heart. Charles’s heart spoke directly to Erik’s heart, which stopped in his chest as Charles stood up and walked over to him.

The camera followed the singer as the crowd was pulled from their stupor when Charles rose, the stadium beginning to fill with the sound of applause and cheers.

Charles didn’t hear anything, though, as he walked off stage and threw himself at Erik, kissing him with as much passion as he had put into the song, and then some.

“I hope you understand,” Charles murmured against Erik’s lips, the journalist letting out a wrecked noise and pulling him in closer. ‘Just how much I love you. That I want to be with you, no matter what.’

“I understand,” Erik whispered, voice thick. ‘We want the same thing.’

‘We do,’ Charles thought, as the other four members of X-Boys rushed back onto the stage, Alex shouting that it was time for the grand finale.

Charles and Erik parted from their embrace when Sean called out “Charles, stop making out with your boyfriend! It’s ‘Sweet Love’ time, but not that kind of sweet love!” The crowd were delighted at that comment, screaming as Charles laughed, kissing Erik again before grinning.

“I’ll be right back,” Charles vowed, heading back towards the stage, but looking over his shoulder to give Erik a mischievous smile. “Don’t hesitate to sing along, darling. I know this is your favourite song.”

“Shut up, Charles,” Erik said, though his voice was far too rough with emotion, and much too fond.

‘Sweet Love’ was a perfect end to a perfect concert – the crowd went wild, X-Boys smiled throughout the whole performance, and even Erik found himself thinking -

‘Your sweet love sustains me too, Schatz’.

***

X-BOY’S CHARLES XAVIER: AN IN-DEPTH AND INTIMATE LOOK INTO THE SINGER THAT HAS CAPTURED HEARTS AROUND THE WORLD, AND MUCH, MUCH CLOSER TO HOME

…Charles Xavier smiled at me, curling up on his couch in his navy silk pyjamas and his favourite baby-blue cardigan, which I told him was a shade lighter than his eyes. He laughed at that, swatting my arm and telling me that ‘there better be a question in there, darling’.

I assured him there was just one more question, and he nodded, waiting expectantly, eagerly.

What does the future hold for you, now that the X-Pression Tour has ended? Is this going to be a new chapter in your life? Or a whole new novel?

The ‘Paralysed’, ‘Not Alone When I’m With You’ and ‘Mind Reader’ singer quirked up his eyebrow, the same way he does when he is amused by an interesting move in an afternoon game of chess.

“That’s technically three questions,” he replied, before falling into silence and thinking carefully, like he always did. The oldest X-Boys member always contemplated questions seriously and with care.

“It is hard to predict the future. Some may have that gift, but unfortunately, I do not. I can tell you about some of the things I want for my future, however.”

The singer smiled again, and I urged him to continue.

“Firstly, I would like some black forest cake and a cup of tea – sometime in the near future, preferably. Then, I think I would like to take a short break; travelling the world on tour was wonderful, but it is always unfortunate that we don’t get to enjoy seeing the cities we visit as much as we would like. I would like to maybe visit Germany, for reasons I’m sure you would know.”

I did.

“The new CEO of Hellfire Records has given us time to recuperate after the tour, but we have been discussing taking X-Boys into a new direction stylistically. We’d like to explore new genres, since we ourselves are constantly evolving. We would like to show our fans different sides of ourselves. I’d be interested in writing some new work for a future album, but that is sometime far into the future. For now, though, I would like to relax and spend some time cuddling my boyfriend, so I think this is a good place to end the interview.”

Charles Xavier turned off my recorder at this point, so I couldn’t write about what happened after. What I can say, though, is that I am very interested to see what Charles Xavier and the X-Boys deliver in the future.

Whatever it is, I am sure that it will be far better than the train wreck that was X-Pressions and that musical sludge called ‘Sweet Love’.

***

“Your love letter to your boy is trending,” Emma chuckled as she passed by Erik’s office, the journalist pausing in the review he was writing for some indie artist’s debut EP.

“My work always does well, Emma,” Erik said, feigning casualness, though his heart leapt at the news. Then, he realised what Emma said. “And it wasn’t a ‘love letter’. How many times do I have to tell you that?”

“It reads like a love letter to me, sugar,” Emma said, clearing her throat. “You mentioned his eyes every second sentence, and you basically ended your piece by unsubtly bragging that you two fucked after you finished interview.”

“I said we cuddled!” Erik retorted, Emma raising a brow.

“And we’re supposed to believe that you only cuddled? Please, sugar. Charles’s fans may be young, but even they weren’t fooled. And when you mentioned chess, was that a euphemism for something? Some secret kink?”

“Fuck off,” Erik grumbled, glaring at his boss who just chuckled. “Anyway, you need to hold up your end of the deal, Emma.”

“What deal?”

“Don’t be a bitch,” Erik grunted, eyes narrowed. “I wrote your piece on X-Boys. Technically I wrote two, because I also wrote that one about Charles. So, hold up your end of the bargain, or so help me-”

“Ah, ‘The Photo’,” Emma said, clicking her manicured fingers. “Already done, sugar. You can check, if you want.” Emma threw her phone to Erik, and he quickly checked to make sure she had deleted The Photo.

“And your computer? Laptop? Hard drives?”

“All deleted too,” Emma said. “You have my word, Erik. You know I always uphold my end of a deal.”

“Yes, after you blackmail people into accepting them in the first place,” Erik replied hotly, getting up from his chair to get ready to head home from work. “But yeah, if you said you deleted them, you deleted them.” Emma smiled sweetly at Erik, and that look made him pause, one arm through a sleeve in his jacket. “What, Emma?”

“Oh, nothing, sugar,” Emma said, waving her hand as she continued to smile, looking far to amused for whatever was on her mind to be ‘nothing’.

“Emma, what did you do?” Erik pressed, his boss laughing.

“Relax, Erik. I kept my end of the bargain. Do stop frowning like that or your wrinkles will make you look like a middle-aged perv compared to your jailbait-looking boyfriend,” Emma said, walking out of Erik’s office when he flipped her off, grabbing his bag and heading back to Charles’s place.

It had taken a while, but Erik and Charles had worked out how to evade the press for the most part; it helped that Charles’s apartment complex housed many celebrities and people in the public eye, meaning that security there was quite rigid. Charles had managed to get Erik exempt from all of those security checks, and now he could just directly enter the secure underground carpark and head up to Charles’s penthouse without fuss.

When Erik reached Charles’s place, the door opened before he could even get his own key out, Charles tumbling into him and kissing him desperately. Erik was shocked for a moment, catching Charles as they both stumbled, before kissing back just as eagerly, albeit confused.

“I’m home?” Erik asked breathlessly when Charles fisted the front of his shirt, pulling him inside and beginning to suck on Erik’s neck, hands fumbling with the journalist’s shirt. Erik’s cock sprung to life immediately, helping Charles pull his shirt off him, stepping forward to back Charles into the wall, the man moaning as Erik slipped his thigh between Charles’s legs.

“I’m not complaining…” Erik panted as Charles continued to suck at his neck, collar bones and chest, fingers fumbling to undo Erik’s belt, the clanging of the metal making Erik lick his lips. “But did something happen?”

Charles detached his lips from Erik’s skin now to laugh, lowering himself onto his knees to look up at Erik. For a moment, Erik felt the world stop turning; it was just him and Charles, his breath knocked out by the sheer blueness of the man’s eyes and the way he gazed up at Erik like the older man was the world.

“Yeah, I saw something earlier today, while you were at work,” Charles said, sliding Erik’s belt out, throwing it to the ground and working at Erik’s fly, hands brushing across the bulge of Erik’s erect cock.

“Oh?”

“Mhmm,” Charles said, corner of his mouth lifting. “Yeah, I saw something, and fuck, did it make me horny. You were so fucking hot, Erik. I couldn’t wait for you to come home the moment I saw it, and I’ve been hard ever since but I didn’t want to touch myself, not until you came home.”

Erik startled at that, hand flying to grab Charles’s, which were about to pull his pants down. Charles whined, looking up at Erik needily, but the man just stared down at him.

“Charles, what exactly did you see today?” Erik asked, Emma’s suspicious smile coming to mind.

She wouldn’t have…

Charles smiled a little wider, tugging himself from Erik to crawl over to the coffee table where his phone sat. He hurried back on his knees, flipping the screen around to show Erik exactly what he had seen, and it was something Erik had seen many, many times before but pretended did not exist.

It was The Photo.

The one from Erik’s college days, when Emma had forced him to dress in drag after he lost a bet; bright red bob, tight spaghetti strap blue sequin minidress, black boots, full make up.

Erik knew never to bet against Emma that night.

And now, even though Emma had technically kept up her end of the bargain by deleting The Photo from all of her devices, he knew to never trust her again.

Because she sent The Photo to Charles, who was now smiling up at him hungrily with the mortifying picture in his palms.

Charles must’ve seen the panic in Erik’s eyes, because he laughed, turning his phone off and tossing it onto the couch, hands tugging at Erik’s pants eagerly once again.

“Darling, there’s nothing to be embarrassed about. You were beautiful,” Charles assured him, taking Erik’s cock into his hands, still smiling that sugar-sweet smile that tasted like melted chocolate and lemon drop candy. “I’ll show you how beautiful I think you are, right now.”

When Charles wrapped those red lips around him, Erik found that he didn’t care about The Photo any more.

Not one bit.

***

Sometime in the future…

Like usual, Erik woke up obscenely early and instinctively rolled over to try and snuggle Charles, a morning routine he indulged himself with every day. It was barely light outside, but strangely, the bed beside him was empty and cold. Erik frowned, opening his eyes and squinting in the dark.

Charles’s side of the bed look like it hadn’t been slept in at all, and Erik sighed. The journalist had gone to bed earlier that night, Charles pressing a kiss to his cheek and sending him off to sleep without him because he had been struck by a sudden burst of inspiration at around midnight. It appeared that he didn’t end up going to sleep at all, something that happened every now and then.

Erik pulled himself out of bed, the cold sting of the morning air making his skin prickle with goosebumps. Pulling on a discarded jumper and grey sweatpants from a velvet armchair in the corner of their large bedroom, Erik padded through their palatial house in Beverly Hills, heading down the stairs and straight to Charles’s music studio.

Erik held himself carefully to try and avoid making too much noise, eyes scanning the room for his husband. He found him quickly, the lump of blankets under the grand piano a familiar sight, surrounded by some paper with music notes scribbled across them. Erik’s heart squeezed with affection, quietly walking over to the man who was curled up beneath the piano swathed in blankets, sleeping on the plush rug.

Charles was snuffling a little, making relaxed breathy noises, and Erik smiled. The journalist dropped to his knees to crouch beneath the piano too, pushing some of Charles’s slightly overgrown hair from his closed eyes. The sleeping man was so tired after almost pulling an all-nighter that he barely stirred, just mumbling something incoherent under his breath. Charles subconsciously nuzzled his face towards Erik’s warm palm, making the man chuckle softly.

“Good morning, Liebling,” Erik whispered, another part of his usual morning routine. Even though Charles couldn’t hear it, Erik felt like he needed to say it, softly pressing a kiss to Charles’s forehead.

It has been almost 14 years since Charles and Erik met, almost 10 since they got married, and just over 8 years since X-Boys disbanded, much to the sadness of now-20-something-year-olds everywhere. Even though the group themselves were no more (only reuniting for the occasional charity concert every now and then), the individual members were very active.

Alex had become a successful solo act, known for his sex-appeal and progressive lyrics. Darwin transitioned into the smooth jazz scene like he had always wanted, while Sean became a permanent fixture on broadway. Hank, in the end, decided that performing was not what he wanted to pursue, and ended up working alongside Charles in the record company they co-owned.

Charles was the CEO of Graymalkin Sound, and Hank was his right-hand-man and COO. Their company was relatively small compared to all of the large record labels in LA, but due to the reputations of both Charles and Hank, their company had done well for themselves in the handful of years they’ve been active.

It also helped that the two had a good eye for talent. One of their artists was Scott Summers, their ex-band mate Alex Summer’s younger brother, who was a handsome crooner with a sensual and smooth voice. Jean Grey, his girlfriend, was this generation’s Pop Diva, with a voice that was powerful and vibrant. Her debut album, Phoenix, had topped billboard charts for multiple weeks straight. There was also Ororo Munroe, who went by the stage name ‘Storm’ – a youthful soul singer with an abundance of natural talent.

Though Charles was officially the CEO of Graymalkin Sound, Hank was in control of most of the business affairs, while Charles focused on the music. Charles wrote most of the songs for his artists, while also occasionally writing scores for films, such as the successful action movie ‘First Class’.

While Charles’s career had changed in a drastic direction, Erik’s hadn’t. Erik still worked for Brotherhood of Music alongside Emma. Since it was common knowledge that the terrifying journalist Erik Lehnsherr was head-over-heels in love with ex-boyband member Charles Xavier, lots of his interviewees had thought that he wouldn’t be as critical about their work. But they were wrong, and even though he was happily married and in love, Erik still wrote scathing and brutally honest reviews – so, now he was just known as the prickly journalist that is only nice to Charles Xavier and Charles Xavier only.

Crawling back out from under the grand piano, Erik walked over to the computer, which was only in sleep mode. Giving the mouse a nudge, Erik settled into Charles’s comfortable chair, taking a curious look at the product of Charles’s inspiration and his need to tire himself out so badly.

It was a mostly finished song, titled ‘TOP SECRET SONG FOR ‘THE’ DAY! SUPER TOP SECRET! DO NOT PEEK! FOR CHARLES’S EYES AND EARS ONLY! NAME PENDING!’

Erik snorted quietly at his husband’s intermediary song title, glancing at Charles, who was still lightly snoring under the piano. Putting on Charles’s headphones, Erik sneakily pressed play.

There was a light piano melody, something Charles was well-known for, in a soft, soothing melody that sounded like a caress.

And then Charles’s voice, just speaking, and still as lovely as it was when he was only 24.

‘This is a little song I wrote for you, Erik. You are the love of my life, and nothing makes me happier than being able to live by your side. Happy 10th Anniversary, darling.’

Erik smiled, heart full, and pulled off the headphones, stopping the recorded song from playing any further.

Their anniversary was tomorrow, and Erik could wait.

He had forever with Charles, after all.

-The End-

#cherik #charles xavier #erik lehnsherr #xmen #xmen fic #x-men #boy band au #james mcavoy #michael fassbender #ao3 #ao3 fanfic

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undertaleowl · 5 years

Note

so i saw awhile ago that you would do him but you just needed to research a little, so take as much time as you need for this, but could you write g paps if he caught his s/o singing and they had an absolutely gorgeous voice?

Aww, this is adorable! I know I say that about a lot of my asks, but all that means is that you all are amazing at thinking of such sweet asks. One-shot under the cut, honey! Sorry this took so long. I smiled like a lovesick fool the entire time I was writing this, holy cow. Song referred to in this one-shot is called “On the Radio” by Regina Spektor. You can listen to it here → https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1sX9Oicbr-Q

AO3 Link here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17482211/chapters/42475082

WC: 1,470

On the Radio

He was coming home from another night at the lab, and he was annoyed. His brother was more obnoxious than usual, making far more snide and snarky comments than what he himself had deemed necessary. Papyrus knew that the remarks were more centered around the fact that their research so far had been more inconclusive than what they were hoping for. So, it was no wonder that both of them were a little more than on edge. All he wanted to do was get home, hope the research sorted itself out in his absence, and relax, hopefully with you in his arms. He really hoped that you hadn’t stayed up waiting for him.

He sent a quick text message to you that said he was on his way home. Even if you were asleep, it made him feel better to know that everyone was on the same wavelength about situations. He was thrilled to see the bus arriving just as he walked to the stop. Once you had found out that he couldn’t use as much magic as many other monsters, you made him promise not to teleport as much.

“But dearest, do you know how many germs there are on a single bus seat? How much bacteria repopulate every second on the grime of public transportation?” he had tried to cajole. You simply had raised an eyebrow at him.

“You’re a monster, you’re not infected by germs. Monster ailments are more personal and are transferred from soul to soul rather than through human germs,” you had retorted. In that one instance, he cursed himself for rambling to you about the intricacies of the average monster’s inner workings.

“However,” he thought to himself, trying to cheer himself up, “The bus is never full at this hour, and the movement of the bus is rather useful for thinking.”

The clouds hiding the moon and the muffled thunder indicated that some rain was on the way, so he was actually thankful for the bus that he used to detest. He got on the bus and saw only one other person, who was snoozing in the back of the bus. He sat in the middle, to observe the human in the back and to see any potential people entering the bus from the front. The bus driver, a girl in her mid-twenties with wavy, dirty blonde pixie cut, and large round-rimmed glasses switched the radio station.

“Is this station okay with you?” she asked, pointing at Papyrus in her rear-view mirror. He nodded, ambivalent. It’s not that he minded the music. It seemed soothing enough, nothing like the ruckus of noise that his brother liked to listen to when he worked. Papyrus didn’t really like music while he worked, but in an atmosphere like a bus, the distraction from the grunginess of the vehicle was welcome. After a few minutes of the first song, the second song began. A calming but still upbeat plucking of the violin echoed throughout the bus, almost matching up with the rain drops.

A piano joined in with the violin plucks. The jumping in puddles feeling in the music changed to a stick barely altering the course of a river, smooth but still rhythmic.

“Ah, ah, ah-ah-ah-ah. Ah, ah, ah-ah,” the lady’s breathy voice sang in a crisp staccato. As the rain started, so did the beginning of lyrics.

This is how it worksIt feels a little worseThan when we drove our hearseRight through that screaming crowd…

He didn’t know why, but the song vaguely reminded him of you. He was methodical and reserved, a gentleman scientist. You, compared to him at least, were more unpredictable, spontaneous. When you had wanted to go out for dinner one night, he was startled.

“Did you not make reservations?” he had asked. You laughed.

“No. Most of the restaurants that do reservations are too fancy for what I was thinking. What kind of food do you feel like?”

He had never done that before meeting you. Go to wherever to do whatever you were feeling at the moment. It was…

Uncomfortable.

Troubling.

Worrying.

Beautiful.

Exhilarating.

Fun.

He didn’t know how you did it, but for someone who liked planning everything, he sure did like being spontaneous with you. The song was bubbly and switched from controlled to spontaneous, just like you and him. The sway of the bus and the pitter-patter of the rain added a sense of welcomed ambiance to the song, and despite everything at work, he felt content.

All too soon, even before the song was over, his stop came up. He smiled at the driver. “Have a good night. Thank you.”

The driver looked surprised at his thanks, but she gave him a smile in return.

“Good night to you too, sir.” She let him off and he walked for about twenty seconds before entering his apartment building. After so fondly reminiscing about you on the bus, he was even more eager than before to hold you close.

When he opened the apartment door, he was pleasantly surprised to hear the same station that had been playing on the bus echo through the apartment. Only, the voice sounded…different. Not a bad different. This voice was more clear, strong, and less breathy than the voice on the bus, sounding like a clarinet chorus rather than a flute soloist. He felt his strange soul thrum faster when he heard the first voice through the second voice when the volume of the song decreased. Was that…?

Quickly but quietly, he went over to your living room area. You were skimming over a magazine while lounging on the couch, singing almost absent-mindedly, and there was no doubt that the heavenly noise was coming from you. The second refrain’s climax began and all he could do was smile like a fool.

Oh, by the stars and galaxies above, you were perfect, weren’t you?

This is how it worksYou’re young until you’re notYou love until you don’tYou try until you can’tYou laugh until you cryYou cry until you laughAnd everyone must breatheUntil their dying breath~!

He rushed into the living room and kissed the crown of your head for as long as he could without seeming creepy. You craned your neck backwards to smile up at him.

“Hey. Glad you’re home. You worked a little later than usual tonight,” you said quietly, as to not disturb your probably snoozing neighbors. You puckered your lips slightly to invite your boyfriend to kiss you, and he did so happily as the song ended.

“Thank you for the concert, dearest. I am a very fortunate skeleton to have been your audience,” he commented. You smiled bashfully, and he had to restrain himself from sighing like a lovestruck high-schooler when he saw a delicate blush dust over your cheeks.

“Oh, you heard that, huh? Sometimes singing makes the place feel less empty when you aren’t here,” you explained sheepishly. He chuckled and came around the couch, and he offered his hand, almost seeming like he was bowing, like the gentlemanly skeleton he was. You took it, and you let out a squeak when he pulled you into another kiss, this one full of nothing but pure adoration.

“Just when I thought that I couldn’t be any luckier,” he said as he pulled away reluctantly. You chuckled, honestly a little shocked by his sudden spontaneity.

“You…really liked me singing that much?”

“Absolutely,” he replied, not even missing a beat. “Especially because I was listening to this song on the bus, and the entire time I listened to it, I thought of you,” he admitted. You brightened.

“You were listening to this station on the bus?” you asked, amused laughter in your voice. “You were reminded of me?” You laughed again. “And this entire time, I was thinking of you!”

Papyrus felt his soul swell as he stepped closer to you. “You know, in science, they say that coincidences are highly unlikely?”

You smirked and stepped closer to your boyfriend. “Oh yeah? How unlikely?”

He didn’t know what you did to him, but Papyrus smirked right back at you, suddenly filled with a sort of carefree recklessness that he had only seen you exhibit. “As unlikely as this, dearest.” He picked you up bridal-style and kissed you again. Seeing the pleased shock in your eyes made him chuckle. When he finally pulled away, you giggled weakly, a little breathless.

“I guess we really are on the same wavelength, in more ways than one,” you retorted as you kissed his cheek bone, the scientific reference and the kiss making him beam like he had just won a Nobel Prize.

And to think, your mutual happiness and romance of tonight’s events had started with a song on the radio.

#undertale imagines #undertale #g papyrus #singing #one shot

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buckitybarnes · 6 years

Text

Street Star: Bucky x Reader

Summary: Anon:“Hey lovely! I was wondering if you could do a request where the reader is a street singer and one day Bucky hears her and starts coming by every day because he is falling for her. And one day, she finally talks to him? Thank you, darl!”

Warnings/Themes: Fluff!! Profanity/humor. Mentions of prostitutes (It’s Vegas, fam).

Author’s Note: More fluff to prepare you for your death in Infinity War. Speaking of which, this will be my last upload for a few weeks (because, like I said, I’ll be dead). See you guys when I see you! And wish me luck watching this film.

Has not been checked for fluency errors/mistakes.

Song lyrics used are as follows: “Dead Sea” - The lumineers. “Let You Go” - Mahcine gun Kelly. “Can I be Him” - James Arthur.

Y/N = Your Name

Permanent:

@chamongangae @lovely-geek @glimmering-darling-dolly @badassbaker @geeksareunique @cameronskywalker @dottirose @httpmcrvel @ludwigs-a-monster @itstribute12 @iminlovewithasuperboy @not-reptilian @blacwings-and-bucky-barnes @thefridgeismybestie @whileinparis @part-time-patronus @lionheo04 @hottrashformarvel @buckybarnesappreciationsociety

Music is food for the soul.

Bucky scoffed at that saying. It reminds him of Shakespeare and that guy? Well, Bucky thought he was a real phony.

Music was nice and all, but it was silly to think anything more of it.

Oh, how he was wrong.

It starts off on a Monday night.

There’s a month-long intel mission he’s assigned to in Las Vegas, Nevada. At first, the flashy lights and raunchy showgirls overwhelmed him. He’d be embarrassed to admit how many times he flinched when a solicitor tried to shove a card into his hands. By now, his pockets were full of them. For some reason, he felt a little bad throwing them away. These guys worked hard after all.

Still, he hopes no one sees the cards.

It would be difficult to explain the prostitutes on there.

He exhales, tucking yet another “business” card into his coat pocket. It’s chilly tonight, and he decided to walk the streets for the hell of it.

It was a weekday, meaning he won’t be bombarded by a crowd of drunkards.

His eyes wander the Vegas strip as he saunters through, offering a shy smile to a few passerbys. Living statues occasionally catch his eye and a pink Cadillac zooms past. He raises an eyebrow in amusement when a group of girls stick their heads out the window to tell him that he looks pretty.

And then he hears you.

“I stood alone, upon the platform in vain

The puerto ricans they were playing me salsa in the rain

With open doors and manual locks

In fast food parking lots

I headed west, I was a man on the move

New York had lied to me, I needed the truth.”

His feet carry him across the street. The front of the ARIA hotel glimmers brightly, enveloping you in blue light. He swears that you look like an angel. It matches your voice.

“Oh, I need somebody, needed someone I could trust

I don't gamble, but if I did I would bet on us”

He can feel your emotions project through your voice. It was absolutely breathtaking.

You were sad and lonely. He can feel it and he can empathize.

Despite the small audience that you’ve gathered, your eyes focus elsewhere, your mind lost to a world far away.

He listens in a daze, standing before you in front of the crowd. He maps out your face, remembering every little detail. It’s instinct by now. He’s had to memorize people just in case they came back to haunt him in the future. It’s different with you, however.

He takes his time.

His watch vibrates, breaking him out of his ogling. It was time to head back to his room for mission prep. “Fuck,” he murmurs to himself, disappointed that he can’t watch the rest of your performance.

He reaches into his back pocket, pulling out a $5 bill, and tosses it into your guitar case. He can feel his heart skip as soon as you turn towards him. You nod in appreciation and give him the biggest smile as you strum and sing.

He shakily sighs and returns the kind expression.

He hopes to see you again.

It’s his luck that he finds you the next night at the same exact spot.

It may be apart of his imagination, but he swears that you light up with recognition as he approaches the crowd. He grins lightly, shoving his hands in his pockets to listen in on your singing.

It’s a bigger group tonight and he has to squeeze himself into the middle to see. You’re with a guy, who raps his part after you sing a chorus.

“Since you left, I've been holding onto a memory

Since you walked out that door, yeah

And you said I changed and you're so damn sick of me

You're not mine anymore, 2 3 4-”

The crowd bursts into cheers as the man next to you begins.

“Ayy, I still remember what you wore on the first night

Still remember how that black dress had your curves right

Still remember smokin' just to calm my nerves

'Til you had to leave and grabbed your purse, I grabbed first.”

Bucky can’t help himself but chuckle. He claps along when you gesture towards the crowd, pumping your fist in the air along with the beat. It’s absolutely adorable how much you’re into your performance.

When you reach the end, everyone (including Bucky) applauds enthusiastically.

He’s one of the last to leave, still standing awestruck by the mere sight of you.

“Hey, Pal. You’re gonna catch a fly with your mouth open like that,” you call out, gesturing towards your own lips.

He jumps a bit in shock, red creeping up his skin as he closes his mouth. “S-sorry, I just- You’re really good,” he replied, scratching the back of his neck in embarrassment.

Your eyes grow bright with pride and joy. “Well, thank you! And thank you for coming back!”

“W-wait, you remember me from last night?” He feels stupid about the excitement in his voice. He’s never acted so flustered before.

“Of course I do! How could I forget such a handsome face?”

You bite back a giggle when you practically see his mind short-circuit. He’s a blushing mess as he looks anywhere but towards you.

“You- uh- geez.”

Fortunately, for him, his watch saves his ass. It rattles around his wrist, signaling that it’s time to depart yet again.

“I’m sorry, I gotta go.”

“It’s okay, me too.”

You turn and begin packing your bags but still feel his presence behind you. Normally, you’d be wary about lingering strangers, but this man didn’t seem like the rest of those sleazebags trying to get you into their beds.

“Something you need...uhh….?” You’re at a loss for words, looking up at him.

“Bucky,” he responds.

“Bucky.” You smile at the sound of it. It’s a funny name, you’d have to admit, but who are you to judge?

You offer him your own and he seems to relax quite a bit. Remembering why he was still standing around, he quickly fishes into his pocket and offers the money to you. “I wish I could give you more, but I left the rest at the hotel.”

When you cock an eyebrow, he begins to panic. “Thank you, but I don’t have any use for those,” you tease. He looks down in confusion and internally screams.

He’s accidentally pulled out a prostitution card. A lady with pasties on her breasts peeks out from the spaces between his fingers.

Oh my god, he’s going to die.

“Jesus- I’m so sorry! I thought I pulled out a ten!”

He tosses the card behind him and makes sure that he pulls out the right thing from his pocket. He drops his gaze as he tries to hand you the money. “I’m such a dumbass,” he grumbles to himself.

You let out a surprised laugh. You put your whole heart into it, genuinely amused at his antics. Accepting the money with a gracious smile, you shrug your shoulder. “See you around?”

“Tomorrow night?” he asks hopefully, stomping down the earlier sheepishness.

“Tomorrow night,” you confirm, patting his metal shoulder. He flinches for a second but then his muscles relax at your touch. “And you don’t have to give me so much, Bucky. A dollar is more than enough,” you assure.

For the next couple of weeks, Bucky walks the strip every night. And every night, he spots you in the same corner, entertaining a lovely crowd.

By this point, he’s completely enamored with you and he’s not sure why.

Clearly, you were just an ordinary street-performer, right?

Wrong.

You wear your heart on your sleeve every time you sing. He realizes that you choose specific songs that match how you were feeling or what you went through. It was like a secret code that only he noticed.

You never really cared what others thought about you. Some nights there was one audience member, other nights, there were about twenty. Either way, you still perform.

He wonders if you even do it for the money. At one point, he saw a homeless man stand in front of you, listening intently and clapping away. When you were finished, he apologized for not having any cash to give, but he wanted to thank her for making his day just a little brighter. As soon as you noticed the dirty backpack over his shoulders and the cardboard sign sticking out of it, you shake your head with a smile, telling him it’s more than alright. You thanked him for being there to listen and donated almost the entirety of what you earned that day.

That’s when Bucky knew that you were pure and beautiful on the inside and out.

When he rounds the corner on a Sunday night, you immediately wave at him mid-song, grinning widely. You don’t break your strumming, but you make sure to address him out loud despite the others around you. “Glad you could make it tonight,” you say.

It was meant to tease him. He’s seen you so often now.

“Wouldn’t miss it for the world,” he murmurs back.

You silently appreciate the crinkle of the skin near his eyes when he smiles and the dimples that come out of hiding beneath his tired expression.

“I heard there was someone but I know he don't deserve you

If you were mine I'd never let anyone hurt you, no, no

I wanna dry those tears, kiss those lips

It's all that I've been thinking about

'Cause a light came on when I heard that song and I want you to sing it again-”

Bucky’s breath hitches in his throat.

You’re making eye contact with him as you sing those words. Were you directing a message towards him or was this just for show?

He doesn’t even notice the crowd glancing between the both of you, holding back their ‘aaw’s and endearing laughter.

Clearly, there was something there.

“I swear that every word you sing, you wrote them for me

Like it was a private show, but I know you never saw me

When the lights come on and I'm on my own

Will you be there to sing it again?

Could I be the one you talk about in all your stories?”

Bucky Barnes swore that music is nothing more than a distraction to the ears.

You’ve taught him the opposite.

It’s more than that.

Music is the food of love. It can break the soul just as much as it can fix it. He feels himself healing from you, even if your conversations were short and he barely knew you at all.

He feels your kindness seep into his skin to show him that the world isn’t bad at all. He just had to be open to learning how to be happy. It was worth the risk. Even the little things like a blue sky or your beautiful smile can lift him up.

Bucky Barnes feels like he’s in love with you.

“Can I be the one

Can I be the one

Oh, can I, can I be him?”

As you pack up, he’s standing beside you. “You were wonderful tonight,” he says. It comes out softer than usual. His warm gaze never falters.

“Thank you, Bucky.” You zip up your case and stand tall, hands on your hips patiently.

As soon as Bucky reaches into his pockets, you stop him with a hand in the air. “If you keep giving me tens or twenties, Buck, you’re gonna be a broke man. Unless, of course, you’re a lucky gambler.” He can’t help but chortle in response, rolling his eyes. He doesn’t want to tell you that he had his ass handed to him at poker two hours ago.

“But you deserve it, if not more,” he argues.

You rock back and forth on your heels in contemplation. “Tell you what,” you start.

“Since you insist on spending so much money on me, why don’t you treat me to coffee or something? Or is it technically me treating you?”

Coffee.

In his mind, it sounds like a date.

What a dream come true.

“You don’t want dinner or something instead?” He bites his bottom lip, trying not to be so nervous. It’s been awhile since he’s gone out with anyone.

“I’m scamming you. I’d like our first date to be cheap so next time I can bribe you into taking me to a Gordon Ramsey restaurant,” you joke, grinning wickedly.

Bucky stumbles over his words, clearly affected by the notion of a ‘next time.’

When his watch vibrates, he groans to himself. He forgot about his stupid mission. What was he supposed to tell you now?

“Duty calls,” you say, pointing to his wrist. “We can go on your day off.”

“How’d you-” he scowls in confusion.

“Bucky Barnes, the man with the coolest metal-arm in town. How could I not recognize you?”

When he stiffens at your mention of his arm, you gently place a hand on it. He holds his breath, only for you to pat it in reassurance. “You’ve been my niece's favorite hero since she was five. She used to pull me to the TV all the time just to see your face. I kind of fell in love with you.”

It’s your turn to blush. “I mean- that sounds so creepy, don’t take that the wrong way. It’s not like I was stalking you- Geez, I should’ve told you I knew earlier. You must think I’m a real dork!”

He purses his lips, trying his best not to snicker at this revelation.

“Nah, it makes me more confident in asking you out, now that I know you’re so in love with me.”

“Oh my god. You shut your face, lover-boy. I see you running downhill just to come find me every night. Tell me you’re not in love with me too.”

“I can’t. It’d be a lie if I told you I wasn’t.”

In front of the hotel, he finds you absolutely beautiful. You shyly tuck a strand behind your ear as you talk to him.

The city lights have nothing on you. Your bright eyes and toothy grin blows him away.

He carries your guitar case for you, offering to walk you back home before he heads out on his mission. He watches you skip and twirl around to talk to him. Occasionally, he pulls you to the side to avoid a collision between you and a passerby.

Your bubbly chit-chat takes some weight off of him.

This was his little piece of happiness. You’re his little Street Star.

You are a sign from the universe telling him:

Stay.

#Bucky Barnes #james bucky barnes #bucky x reader #reader insert #reader imagine #captain america #the winter soldier #the avengers #mcu #marvel #wolf writes #fluff #oneshot #writing #fanfic

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thejokersenigma · 7 years

Text

Deadly Voice Part 10

Hi guys - sorry this chapter is sooo long. I’ve been working and reworking it for a while now - but I’m finally just going to give up and post it so I apologise if its not great!

I hope you guys enjoy anyway - oh I am also on AO3 and Fanfic.net under a similar name if anyone would rather read it on there!

Thank you all for following me as well by the way - all comments are welcome and I’d love to chat or answer questions if anyone has any!

Masterlist

It was nearly a week later when I saw the Joker again; he was in his usual booth as I looked out into the crowd from the stage preforming my usual set. He was in black trousers and a white shirt with the top of his pale chest exposed to the air and decorated with golden chains.

Tonight was different to the usual though. He usually kept his gaze on me causing me to squirm, but tonight he didn’t look at me throughout the entire performance. Tonight, his attention was between his phone and the scantly glad waitresses that floated amongst the tables.

I could feel my heart drop at this and I cursed myself silently – why should I care? This should be a welcome relief from his usual behaviour. I tried to keep my head clear and carry on with my set but soon felt something stir in my stomach as I saw him look at a cocktail waitress in a particularly revealing dress – I could practically hear him purr. How could I be jealous of that girl? It was ridiculous - why would I want a murderous psycho looking at me like that?! Yes I couldn’t deny that he was handsome in a rather unusual way and he had a way of talking which could charm anyone – but he was also someone who didn’t care about anything or anyone, could kill without blinking and who would give gifts like live guns and bullets! His insanity was clearly rubbing off on me.

The rest of my performance I kept my eyes away from the back row of booths and I made myself focus solely on my songs, not noticing that my music became more and more like ballads.

As my set finished I left the stage only to be caught by Mr Grimms waiting for me in the wings.

“Hey [L/N]! I need you for the next set.” He called after me as I moved away to get changed.

“What?” I spun around confused – I was done for the night.

“I’ve had my dancer call off tonight and I know you have a background in it.” He stated.

“Yeah from 5 years ago – I haven’t done it since!” I told him.

“That’s more than anyone else has here!” He retorted. “Here!” He handed me a small dress. I held it up and marvelled at the small amount of material

“I won’t fit in that!” He raised one eyebrow at me and before I could say anything he had turned and walked away. I knew there was no use following him.

“Errr!” I huffed in exasperation - could tonight get any worse?!

I made my way to the dressing rooms with my tiny piece of fabric. Once I finally managed to squirm into the dress I looked at myself in the mirror. I could hardly recognise myself, it was a deep green fabric which wrapped around my neck and finished mid-thigh. It clung to every curve of my body and hid nothing – it was good thing I had been so low on food recently really.

After digging in the bottom of my dressing room wardrobe I found a pair of matching colour heels and then headed back to the stage, trying to stay out of sight for as long as possible and constantly pulling my skirt down paranoid.

“Hey [L/N] – hear your my dancer for the night!” chirped Ryan who stood backstage tuning a guitar. He was the singer in a band Penguin hired for Friday and Saturday nights ever since the music line up had changed.

“Yeah – that’s me.” I said unenthusiastically giving him a grimace of a smile.

“Are we really that terrible?” He laughed raising an eyebrow at my expression.

“Sorry – no it’s just this dress is a tad… revealing.” I said searching for the best word to sum up my chronic embarrassment.

“You look beautiful – doesn’t she boys?” He called off his shoulder at the rest of the band who were also tuning guitars and fiddling with other electronic equipment. His response was a chorus of ‘yeahs’ and a wolf whistle from the drummer. Ryan raised both his eyebrows at me this time with a look that said ‘see?’

“Aww cheers.” I said laughing but feeling my cheeks go hot.

“Now let’s go do this!” Ryan rallied before striding up onto the stage with confidence.

I waited for the band to file on behind him and I followed quietly behind them, stopping just out of sight behind the side curtain. I stood awkwardly fiddling with the hem of my dress as they set up their instruments and microphones.

Eventually they were ready and the drum beat started. As Ryan began to sing he gave me a slight hand signal and I nervously headed onto the stage. I knew this song quite well and I moved to the beat, trying to ignore the audience before me, focusing solely on Ryan who I liked and felt comfortable around. I made sure to move right to the lyrics Ryan sang, sauntering away, spinning and moving my hips to the changes in tone to the lyrics. By the time the song was over I could feel my insecurities beginning to slip.

“Ready for the next one?!” Shouted Ryan to the audience and then glanced at me. I gave him a slight nod and a small smile. He grinned at me and signalled for the band to start the next song.

As the songs kept going and I moved more and more I could feel myself letting go and caring less – gone were my thoughts of the gun in my room, gone were the memories of the night before, gone were my feelings of the Jokers lust filled eyes staring at waitresses.

Before I knew it the bands last song began. It had a deeper beat and sexier, more sensual tone to it, so I decided to have some fun. I swung my hips and swayed to music, sliding my hands up and down my body. I strode up to Ryan and he played along with my game until we were grinning at each other. I leaned into him and began to move my hands around him slightly and, though I kept my movements looking flirtatious, I never did anything inappropriate. I kept contact on him as I moved around him before striding off, in time to the lyrics, down the stage like a catwalk. As I reached the end of the stage I spun and dropped down to a squat before slowly rising up back up again.

I probably looked like an idiot pretending to be a stripper, but it was just me and the guys in my head and I was happy for a laugh at my idiotic moves. Finally, I strode back to Ryan and swung into him provocatively, grinding against him like I had seen some of the dancers do at the old club. I heard the last chords of the song and ended my game by flicking my hair back and leaning into Ryan to kiss his cheek.

“Thanks Ryan.” I whispered into his ear.

“Anytime – I mean it.” He murmured back and winked at me. I giggled in my still out-of-it state at his obvious hint.

I soon fell back to reality when a round of applause broke out to the band. I walked off the stage now truly feeling my embarrassment and the warmth of my skin no longing just being due to my dancing. Oh my God, what did I just do in front of everyone?! I really need a drink… I headed toward the bar fanning myself with my hand to try to cool my glowing face.

I sat myself down on a stool at the bar and ordered myself a cocktail. I took a long sip and twirled my straw between my fingers watching the rest of the club life. It was rare that I actually got to have a look out at the club when it was open and busy. I watch the couples at the tables, the huddles of girls giggling and grinding on the dance floor shooting flirtatious looks at the groups of guys chatting pick up strategies and meeting the girl’s eyes.

As I scanned the room I couldn’t help but let my eyes wander to his familiar pale face. He was facing me, watching with thunder in his eyes and I quickly glanced away and turned my attention back to my drink. I could still feel his eyes boring into me so I flicked my hair from over my shoulder so that it fell over my cheek and hid my face. I swallowed thickly. What had I done to deserve that look? Why was he so furious – deal gone south? Someone get his drink wrong? I didn’t know, and didn’t want to know, and certainly didn’t want his anger directed at me.

I felt a tap on my shoulder. My head shot up – I had been too deep in thought to notice anyone walk up behind me. I turned to see Johnny stood over me.

“Sorry Miss [L/N] – he is asking for you.” He muttered and he truly did seem sorry for his boss’s behaviour. I glanced around Johnny at the Joker. He met my eyes and raised his pale hand, beckoning me over with a finger. I shook my head at him defiantly – I was not a puppet to boss around.

“Sorry Johnny – I am not here for his convenience.” I stated, though not taking my eyes off the green haired gangsta. I heard Johnny sigh at the fact I wasn’t going easy.

The Joker raised a non-existent eyebrow at my response and, though the club was loud with music and voices, I could practically hear him growl from across the room. He reached into his jacket and pulled out his purple gun before lazily throwing his arm over the back of his chair aiming his gun into the next booth and at the nearest person.

I sighed and rolled my eyes. Of course. I wouldn’t put it past him to pull the trigger if I refused so I abandoned my drink on the bar, slid off my stall and wove my way through the crowd pulling my dress down self-consciously.

As he saw me moving towards him he lowered his gun and gave me a wide grin. “Hello gorgeous,” he greeted eyeing me up and down in my dress as I stopped next to his booth. Now I was closer I could see the start of his muscles through the open part of his shirt and I could feel the blush on my cheeks. “Did you enjoy yourself up there darling?” He raised his invisible eyebrows and his eyes looked dangerous. I presumed he was referring to my dancing previously.

“Yes I did.” I stated simply, not understanding his problem. His grin dropped slightly and he growled dangerously. I looked at him confused.

“Sit.” He demanded his eyes not leaving my face.

“No thank you.” I muttered not moving.

“Don’t push me honey.” He growled shooting me with a deadly glare and fiddling with his gun on top of the table. I sighed at his threat and perched myself on the edge of the booth cushion. He raised one invisible eyebrow but didn’t say anything this time.

“Tell me sweetie, didn’t you like my present?” he asked innocently. His sudden mood swing took me back but I composed myself.

“You certainly have a unique idea of idea of what classes as a present.” I muttered dropping my eyes.

“Speak up sweetie you have such as lovely voice.” He purred showing me his wide grin again and his metal grill shone in the light emitted from lamp on the table. I shot him a dark look knowing full well he had heard me. “And here I thought you’d appreciate it.”

“Why? Why would you think that?!” I blurted out.

His eyes widen slightly at my outburst. “Careful.” He warned lowly. “Anger looks goooood on you babe.” He purred. “But don’t take it out on me.” He said innocently placing his hand on his bare chest.

“Not take it out on you?! You are the reason I am angry!” I cried.

“Is it really?” He pouted, teasing me. “What have I done that so bad?”

I couldn’t hold it back anymore – the idea that he didn’t think he was the reason just made me lose it.

What haven’t you done?! It’s all your mood swings! Your flirting and then threatening! Your staring! Your constant presence so I can never relax! The fact that I don’t know if you want to kill me or talk to me! Your weird dangerous presents! And the fact that I killed two people for you and you didn’t even thank me for it!”

“Bingo!” he cried out “We have a winner!” his red lips spreading into a menacing smile across his face.

I was confused and remained silent. “How did you justify it to yourself?” He questioned me, his eyes studying me.

“Excuse me?”

“People who don’t kill for a business – boring people – they have this thing of having to justify why they killed a person.” He explained slightly annoyed, as if normal people were the dullest people in the world. “So tell me what was yours?”

I didn’t say anything. He was right – I had justified it to myself, but why should I tell him. It wasn’t any of his business.

“Pretty, pretty, pretty….” He whispered at me but his icy eyes flashed dangerously.

“It’s not your business.” I muttered at him.

“Most people I can understand,” he said as if he didn’t hear me,” They usually have to kill for a reason – blackmail, money, lust…” he trialled off at me suggestively his eyes seemed to flash with something. “But I can’t see yours. So come on tell me pleeeasssseee.” He whined.

“I didn’t want your blood on my hands.” I admitted.

“But you were happy with the other two guy’s blood?” He questioned his face lighting up with delight at my obvious overlook. I stayed silent. He was right – why was his life any better than the other men’s? Why had I not even given a thought to the lives I was destroying? They may have done illegal things too, but I highly doubted the two of them combined had done as many illegal things or killed as many people as the Joker.

I looked away out to the stage where the next band, a jazz band, had begun to play. It was getting late now and I needed to get to bed.

“Ahh doll look at me…” he drawled. I didn’t move. He growled and slammed his hands on the table as he shoved himself up and across the booth in one fluid movement and grabbed my face pulling me up so I was inches from his. “I’ve let you get away with a lot tonight sugar, dancing with that boy, yelling at me, not looking me in the eye, but I think you need to learn some respect.” He snarled and I winced as his hand tightened on my chin and his fingers dug into my cheek.

Suddenly his grip was gone from my face and his hand slapped across my face. The shock, more than the force, caused my head to fly to the right and I stumbled catching myself on the booth cushions.

My cheek stung and I had to blink back tears as I looked up at him. He pulled his jacket straight but kept his head down, I wasn’t sure if he was trying to compose himself or if he felt bad. Hell of course he didn’t feel bad.

That was it. I wasn’t here to be teased, ridiculed and bruised. It was late and I was going to bed. I stood up abruptly and went to swiftly turn away but he shot his arm out and caught me.

He kept his head down, not looking me. “You’re not leaving me are you?” he murmured without looking up.

“I don’t want to be anywhere near you.” I snapped at him

“Ah doll your hurting me right here!” his mood changing instantly again, he was suddenly looking at me again, grinning insanely at me, pointing at his shoulder.

“I’m hurting you in your shoulder?” I demanded angrily.

“Oh I’m sorry” he let out his signature laugh, “– where’s a heart supposed to be? Here?” He gestured to his crotch, winked at me and continued to laugh loudly. He seemed to have snapped completely. His usual self was clearly only a small layer of his craziness. The slap seemed to have triggered something in him and released his true insanity.

“Oh no wait, it’s here!” he exclaimed still laughing manically and pointing at his jacket sleeve. “Because that’s where yours is baby!” he grinned maliciously.

“In your dreams!” I spat in shock at his mad behaviour.

“Some nights yeah,” he mocked, “but only because the reality inspires me!”

“Your- your…” I stuttered not knowing how I felt or how to describe him.

“‘Your’, ‘Your’,” he mimicked in a high pitch voice. “Come on sweetie – use your deadly little voice.” He purred.

But I didn’t. Instead I withdrew the arm he wasn’t gripping and didn’t hold back as I swung around to slap him in the face. I didn’t look to see what damage I had done I just ran as fast as I could up to my flat and locked the door behind me before collapsing in gasps and sobs against my front door.

#joker x reader #joker fanfic #fanfic #deadly voice #deadly voice part 10 #x reader #reader #joker #violence #johnny frost

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