#I think Steven needs a raise for dealing with their bullshit | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

andysbubba · 5 years ago

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friends [ two ]

-> steve’s your best friend. you know damn well that won’t change. [ also you’re really stubborn in this au and steve has to deal with that ]

AKA two idiots in love but one doesn't want to admit it

link to chapter one | two | three | four |

𝐡𝐨𝐧𝐞𝐲'𝐬 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

10 years later, 2020

“How is it going with you two?” Bucky sips his coffee as he sits across you and Steve.

You raised an eyebrow at him. “What do you mean?”

“I would’ve expected a wedding invitation by now from both of you,” He looks at the two of you pointedly.

You choke on your latte and then glanced at Steve. “Seriously?”

Steve glances back at you and laughed, awkwardly rubbing the back of his neck.

Bucky bursts out in laughter. “Shit. That was priceless!”

“Oh shut up, Buck.” Steve rolls his eyes at his friend.

“Yeah, Barnes. We’re just friends,” You nudge Steve with your shoulder. “Right, Steve?”

Steve shrugs and nods, leaning in front and picking up a fork to cut into his slice of chicken pie. “Yeah,”

Jesus. What was that stinging pain in your heart?

Steve left for the washroom and it was just you and Bucky.

“Bitch move, Y/N.”

You look at Bucky cluelessly. “What did I do?”

“That guy is hopelessly in love with you and you just told him that you two are just friends.” He pointedly says.

You roll your eyes in reply. “You’re exaggerating. He’s not hopelessly in love with me, Buck.”

“Say that to his lost, sad, depressed puppy dog face whenever you get into a new relationship.” Bucky kicks your leg under the table.

“You’re just bullshitting now, Barnes.”

There was no way Bucky was right. Your mum’s told you the same thing, so did Steve’s parents. And then there was Natasha who said something along the lines too. Lets not forget Sam either.

Steve being in love with you? That’s just impossible.

“You shouldn’t deny the truth, Y/L/N.”

Steve walks back to the table. “Deny what?”

You turn to Steve in slight surprise before you quickly recovered. “Bucky was just saying some things about-”

“-About how you’ve been in love with Y/N since you were kids,” Bucky interrupts you.

Steve blushes immediately, the pink flowing up to his pale cheeks and he stuttered a little. “W-what?”

You step on Bucky’s toes with your boots and glare at him. His knee shoots up and hits the table as he groans in pain.

You turned to Steve and smiled kindly, “Nope, Bucky was just playing with you,”

Steve nods and settles back on the seat beside you.

You thought to yourself while the two guys chat about yesterday’s baseball game.

Steve gets sad when you get into a new relationship? And then he gets awkward when you say that you two are just friends.

Damn it, Bucky.

But Steve’s just being Steve. He’s always awkward... right?

“I’m not even kidding, Nat. Like seriously, Steve? Liking me?” You huff.

“Think about it this way,” She was lying on the couch, her legs resting on your lap. “He has a lot of flings and ex girlfriends. But why did none of them last long?”

You look down at her. “Because he hasn’t found the right person?”

Natasha shrugs. “That could be one. But you two already act like a couple.” She shifted and sits up straight, turning to you seriously. “He’s looking around for something he already has. Except, it isn’t official.”

You were meeting Natasha so you ended up leaving the guys earlier at the cafe. Apparently, they were planning on having some guys night with Sam.

You frown at Natasha. “We don’t act like a couple.”

Nat raised an eyebrow at you with a ‘really’ expression. “You cuddle, you know what each other like and dislikes, he spends money on you, you spend money on him and you sleep together on the same bed.”

“Isn’t that the norm for best friends?”

Tasha rolls her eyes. “You don’t see Sam kiss my forehead before he goes home or see Bucky buy me an iPad, now, do you?”

“I’ve known Steve since I was one.” You pointed out.

This topic was seriously making you think like crazy. You didn’t even know you acted like a couple with Steve. Like seriously???

“Valid point. But do you really think his exes give a shit about that when he helps you put on your coat and shit?”

“But-”

Natasha laughs at you, completely stopping your speech. “Denial is not a good look on you, sweetie.”

You sigh as Nat stands up and heads into the kitchen.

She comes back out with two bottles of beer. “Listen, Y/N. All I’m saying is, maybe you don’t see it but everyone around you sees what’s going on.” She settles beside you on the couch. “Your brain just functions at a slower rate than others.”

You gasp and smack her arm harshly. “Rude!”

Nat bursts out in laughter before calming down and snuggled into you. “Just, if it’s meant to be, it will happen someday. Forcing things will only make it worse.”

“Does he really sulk when I get into relationships?” You rest your head on top of Natasha’s.

“Yeap!”

You sigh again. “Okay then, why do my relationships not last long?”

“Because the intimacy you want with said partner is already something you share with Steve.” Nat stops and tried to think of a way to convey her thoughts. “Minus the kisses and sex.”

You sighed for what seemed like the nth time that day. “Alright lets change topics. How are your ballet lessons going?”

You had some guy named Jake over at your place a few days after your girls night with Nat. It was just a one night thing and he was already in the corridor outside your apartment when Steve appeared from the stairs, slightly breathless.

You see his face drop when he sees the guy standing outside your door. Wait- why have you never seen that before? It wasn’t the first time Steve came over while there was a guy at your apartment?

Fuckfuckfuck. Damn it, Bucky. And Natasha.

“Hey, Steve.” You turn to Jake, or was it Jacob? “Bye, Joseph.”

Said guy just looks at you in shock. “It’s John.”

“Yeah, potato, potahto.” You flashed him a grim smile before dragging Steve into your apartment and leaving the John in the corridor.

“I’ll make breakfast?” You ask Steve, already making your way to the kitchen.

He follows closely behind you. “I’ll help. What do you want?”

“Mom’s congee?”

Steve looks at you in shock. “You’re the best.”

“I know, Stevie.” You wink at him. “Just fry the chicken. And cut the onions, please, I beg you.”

“Yeah, yeah. Whatever.” Steve hurriedly washed his hand and took whatever he needed from the fridge.

“You wanna call the others to hang out?”

Steve shrugs, “Up to you. But you call. I just washed my hands.”

You took out your phone and shoot a text to the groupchat. The one with Sam, Nat and Bucky.

Y/N: congee day

Y/N: no beer no entry.

Sam: OOOO

Nat: beer and congee? seriously?

Y/N: hey, no one’s forcing you to come nat ??

Sam: there in an hour. with beer.

Bucky: is steve making his fried chiken

Y/N: yeah

Nat: fine i’ll be there with bucky in 20 mins

Y/N: bring gummy bears please thank you ily

Steve glanced down at his smartwatch at raised his brows at your last text.

“Gummy bears, really?”

“Gummy bears and beer is literally the best thing Stevie,” You snort, “But of course you wouldn’t know since you’re an old hag, Steven.”

Steve gasps, looking at you in shock. “Did you just-”

You smirk at him, casually walking to the fridge. “You know I did, Rogers.”

You looked inside the fridge, completely not noticing that Steve was already behind you.

You turn around after grabbing a can of Schwepps from the fridge. You jumped seeing Steve towering right behind you. “Jesus, Steve.”

“You wanna try that again?” He held his hands up on both sides of the fridge, eyes twinkling playfully.

You shake your head and pointed at him. “None of the food war crap. I had to clean up the mess the last time.”

Steve gazed down at you. “You better take it back if you don’t want a new mess to clean up.”

You took the time to look at him– really look at him.

Steve's hot, and goodlooking. You’ve already known that. But have you ever really looked at him?

How there’s that weird drain between his brows when he’s frowning, or how his chin is like a shade darker than the rest of his face. There’s a spot on his cheek and his forehead. You’ve never really noticed them before. His eyes always had a shine. The only time you saw it dull was at his dad’s funeral and then again when Sarah Rogers passed away about 4 years after. Your parents took him in straight afterwards.

Those blue eyes are always so intense. Whether he’s trying to get a thread into the needle or reading Paper Towns, Steve’s eyes are so goddamn intense. Like he’s trying to burn a hole through the pages of that stupid book.

“You’re staring,” He noted, even though his eyes were deeply staring into you too.

“You’re staring,” You dutifully told him in return.

“I’m looking,” You see his eyes glancing down to your lips quickly and then back into your eyes.

Your eyes shifted down to his lips too. You know how it feels firsthand. Plump and soft, and it feels so good against your own. The natural pink only compliments his pale skin.

It has never been this intense. He was staring into you and you were gazing into him. His body warmth completely overrides the cold air of the fridge behind you. And his presence was... present, huge. Was this what people called sexual tension?

Damn it, Bucky. And Natasha. And Sam. And your parents.

Fuck.

His gaze switched between your eyes and lips, leaning down slowly and hesitantly. You leaned in too, slowly going up on the tip of your toes.

You could feel his breath on your face.

“We shouldn’t,” You whispered lowly.

“I know,” Steve’s hand still shifted to your jaw, though and he's caressing very lightly.

Your hands trailed up and linked at the back of his neck, and you completely press your lips against his.

Fuck.

It has been at least a year since you’ve been this close to Steve. But this, this was just different.

Steve kisses you back, lips soft but a little rough. It reminds you perfectly of the first time you kissed him he kissed you.

There was a thought in the back of your mind about how this was possibly going to be awkward later. But, fuck. His lips feels too good to stop.

You pull away from him, just about an inch or two away from his lips. “Steve,”

He speaks lowly, “I swear if you tell me that we shouldn’t do this...”

“We shouldn’t.” You breathed deeply. “But we need to talk about this,”

“Talk about what?” His voice raises the slightest bit. “Talk about how I’ve been in lo-”

The doorbell rings.

And just like that, your moment broke.

Steve closed his eyes shut and clenched his teeth, before he completely pulls away from you and turned around.

“Go get the door. I’ll get started on the chicken.”

You listened, stepping out of the kitchen and to towards the door. Your mind was still processing what just happened. Was he about to say... But, Fuck.

Even if he did say it, you have no idea what you’d do.

Your hand curls around the door knob and you pushed it down and pulled the door open.

Nat and Bucky were on the other side, holding up bags and something that looks like 10 bags of gummy bears.

Not that you have any complaints.

“Your face looks weird. What happened?” Natasha brushes past you as she strides into your apartment, dropping her handbag on the dining table and then going into the kitchen.

“Yeah, you look weird. Why does the house seem so quiet?” Bucky asks next, pushing past you and going straight into the kitchen.

“Yeah, cause I just kissed Steve. Of course it’s gonna be like the fucking Kardashians’ house, ain’t it?” You mutter lowly under your breath, knowing damn well they can’t hear you.

“Hey, Steve,” Tasha sets the bags in the counter before she goes over and pecks Steve on his cheek. “You look weird too. What happened between you two?” She glances between you and Steve with a question mark on her face.

“Did you have sex?”

You turn to Bucky almost immediately. “No!”

“Alright, no need to get so defensive, Tiger. Did you kiss?”

The blush on Steve’s cheeks and the silence from you was a good enough answer for the both of then.

“Oh, so something did happen, huh?” Natasha teased, eyes glinting with some sort of evil.

“Shut up.” Steve grunts as he continues dipping small chicken cubes into flour and then into the egg mixture.

“Did you kiss his dick or just his mouth?”

You roll your eyes, stepping towards the sink to wash your hands, completely ignoring Bucky’s question.

You eyed Steve from your peripheral vision. He was silent too.

Well, fuck.

like comment reblog? i’ll love you forever

#steve rogers #steve rogers fic #Steven Grant Rogers #steverogers #steve rogers au #steve rogers angst #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers smut #steve rogers fluff #Steve Rogers #Marvel #Captain America #Chris Evans #Chris Evans x reader

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blazedgraysons · 4 years ago

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You're No Good - Ch. 2

C.J. Bennett is an overly ambitious student who dreams of shadowing her favorite author, Eli Jennings. The only thing standing in her way: Grayson Dolan.

warnings: this is a rough draft of a series i never finished. i'm posting the finished chapters before leaving this account. 🤍

part 1

If American Lit 1102 was C.J.’s personal hell, her job could at least be considered her own reprieve.

Sunnyside Vintage is an old shop off of Sunset, having been open for the last 30 years. It wasn’t the nicest of thrift stores — the clothes always have a weird mothball smell and everything is old - and not in the trendy way. C.J. loves it. The windows are huge, letting California sunlight wash the stucco walls gold, and the mannequins are always dressed straight out of the 70’s. The pay isn’t always great, but C.J. is allowed to take whatever she wants more than makes up for it in her eyes.

“I just don’t understand. I mean, Stevens has praised me this entire semester. She even told me personally he’s never had a student write as well as me nor pick up on the work as fast as I have. Wouldn’t that be qualities you’d want in an intern, Bea? Even Grayson Dolan would’ve been a better pick.” C.J. turns to her boss, angrily folding flared jeans.

Another reason C.J. loves Sunnyside — her boss, Beatrice “Bea” Walker. Once a glitzy soap star of the ’50’s, she retired with her husband and opened Sunnyside in the late 80’s. Despite being in her late-70s, she still holds on to the same glamour and charm that made her a household name a century prior.

“Maybe there was another reason. It could be something other then your application.” She croaks, lifting a pumpkin to place next to a costumed mannequin. As halloween rapidly approaches, the store was starting to transform to fit the fall season — hoping to draw in customers to purchase unique costumes for the holiday.

Before she can move to help Bea, the doors chime, signaling an entrance. Walking through with seemingly-glowing skin and a symphonic smile was Alexi, C.J.’s best friend and roommate. It’s hard to miss Alexi whenever she walks into a room — from her bleached-blue hair to eclectic style, she’s never been afraid to follow her own path, something C.J. has always admired. She walks straight to C.J., wrapping her in a loving embrace

“Are you okay? James told me what happened.” Alexi leaves an arm around her, and while C.J. knows it’s supposed to be comforting; all she can think about is how much she wants Alexi to leave. It’s one thing to rant to her elderly boss, someone who would love her in spite of her shortcomings and faults. But to know her own friend group has already heard about her misfortune, sending over someone to comfort and soothe, it was all just a little too pitiful for her to handle.

“Theta’s are throwing a party tonight. It’ll be the perfect pick-me-up, and you can forget all about Evans Jensen-“

“Eli Jennings” C.J. corrects.

“Whoever” Alexi rolls her eyes at the interruption, “is missing out on your incredible talent because of an idiotic professor’s incompetence. Everyone’s going and it won’t be the same without you, C.”

“As much as I would love that, Lex, I really just want to be alone tonight. Shitty beer, cheap Indian food, a sad movie so I don’t have to think about how these past four years have been a waste.”

“Not a waste, first of all. Look, I know that you’ve had this whole plan for your life since you popped out the womb, but shit happens, things change. This isn’t a failure, just think of it as a temporary setback. Plus, when life gives you lemons, you…” She trails off, waiting for C.J. to finish.

“Make lemonade?” She sighs.

“Use it to chase tequila.” Alexi giggles.

“I would go, but I have to close. Right, Bea?"

"Don't use me as an excuse. You should go, maybe find a boy to take home." Alexi makes a face at Beatrice's statement and C.J.'s face heats up.

“You’re going - no more buts. Wear something cute. Something that maybe doesn’t make if look like you were alive for Vietnam.” Alexi’s already leaving, kissing Beatrice lightly on the cheek on her way out.

This was how C.J. found herself standing outside the Theta Lambda frat house, October air chilling her through her jacket. She shifts her weight between her feet, surveying the small group around her. Alexi talks animatedly on the phone, asking for whoever to meet them out front.

A random person bumps into her, forcing her to spill the contents of her purse onto the dewey grass. C.J. groans, bending down to pick everything up while mentally thinking to herself all of the other things she could be doing right now.

A pair of dirty air forces steps in front of C.J. and she slowly looks up at the girl standing in front of her. She’s pretty, stunning actually. C.J. recognizes her immediately. Channing Williams - social chair of Rho Xi sorority and the key to all the best parties on campus. Dressed in a black romper and red velvet jacket, she’s everything C.J. isn’t and a quiet twinge of jealousy plucks her heart. ‘I bet she��s never lost out on an internship.’ she thinks bitterly.

“Sorry, do you know anyone?” Channing asks, voice soft and sweet with a clipboard in hand. C.J. looks at Alexi, waiting to hear her answer.

“Not really? I mean we know people, but we aren’t going to be on your clipboard or anything so if you could just let us slide through, I’m sure there’s someone here who could like vouch for us or something?” C.J. wants to slap her — not only did she drag her out in below-freezing weather, but she couldn’t even guarantee them a way inside.

“Well this is a greek-only party so unless you know anyone….” Channing trails off, not openly wanting to kick them out in front of so many people.

“That means no GDI’s.” C.J. didn’t even notice the miniature-sized freshman standing besides Channing. She clearly looks annoyed at the intrusion, keeping her from inside where everyone else is to deal with their little group. C.J. briefly wonders if the upturned stare is a requirement for Rho Xi or if that’s was just especially reserved for her.

“Geed’s?” Alexi repeats, raising an eyebrow.

“Goddamn independents. Y’know, not greek-affiliated.” At this point, C.J. is ready to call the whole night and retire in her bed when she see’s someone appear in between Channing.

“They’re cool, Chan. They’re with me.” Micayla Zhao enters, covered in glitter, sweat and what C.J. is almost sure to be a line of salt from a body shot. C.J. has always considered Micayla the only cool Rho Xi, having had multiple classes with her over the years. Micayla fit right in with their group: smart, beautiful and a wicked sense of humor.

Channing nods, seeming bored and just wanting to get back inside with everyone else. She does a quick finger tap with Micayla (sacred Rho Xi bullshit is what Alexi always calls it) and moving along the line.

“Are your sisters always that charming?” Micayla rolls her eyes, grabbing C.J. to move them through the house to the backyard. A huge bonfire is set up in the middle with a canopy near by for the designated drinking spot. She watches as Micayla confidently moves through the crowd, stopping from time to time to say hey to friends and classmates on the way.

“Most of the time. Look, they’re just possessive over tradition and the Rho-Theta party has always been major exclusive, Channing’s been fighting to make it open to outsiders.” Micayla yells over the thumping bass.

“Yeah, I’m sure they love all the GDI’s.” C.J. exaggerates her voice, pinching her nose to capture the nasally, valley accent Channing is almost famous for. Micayla stops, and had C.J. not been paying attention, she would’ve ran into her.

“Dude, you’re kind of being a bitch right now. Look, I get your bummed about your internship, but Channing wouldn't have let you in if she didn't want to. Would you rather be getting drunk, in your apartment alone?”

“Yeah, actually.” Micayla stares at C.J. for a second, looking like she’s about to bitch her out. As if Alexi can sense the fight forming, she grabs Micayla by the arm.

“Let’s go get a drink, you look like you need a drink in you.” They both walk towards the house, Alexi mouthing ‘Be Nice’ over her shoulder before disappearing completely. C.J. exhales, counting to 3 in her head before walking over to where drinks are set up.She fills up her solo cup, watching as the fizzy liquid moves closer and closer to the top. Before she can take a sip, someone bumps into her spilling half the drink over the side.

“Hey, watch it!” A thick Jersey accent exclaims, and C.J. groans, wondering if this night could get any worse.

“Bennett?”

Grayson appears in front of her, denim jacket over a black t-shirt and black jeans. She takes note of the dark spot growing on the front of his shirt, from where she spilt her drink.

“What’re you doing here?”

She simply shrugs, refilling the missing contents of her cup.“I didn’t know parties were your scene. I always imagined in your free time you’re in like a dark room, crying alone to Sylvia Plath novels.”

“Nice to know you think of me out of class, Grayson” C.J. takes a sip of her beer. She moves to walk away, hoping he would take it as an end of conversation.

"How'd you get in? Isn't this like Rho's only?" He asks, following her to the edge of the bonfire. She looks at him, watching as the light frames the features of his face.

"Couldn't I say the same about you? You're not a Theta." He just stares at her intensely until she relents, "Micayla Zhao got me in. Y'know her?"

"We had history together sophomore year. She helped me cheat on the midterms."

C.J. laughs shortly. "Sounds like her."

Grayson opens his mouth to speak again, but is cut off.

“As much as I’m enjoying this conversation, Grayson, don’t you have someone else to bother? Someone who, y’know, actually likes you?” If that comment bothered him, he didn’t show it, continuing talking to her as if they haven’t pissed each other off continuously for the past four years.

“What do you think about Michael Eichler getting the internship spot?” He asks. As if it wasn’t bad enough that she didn’t get the spot, now she has to sit and rub salt in the wound with her worst enemy.

“What’s there to think about? He got it, I didn’t. Fucking sucks.” He laughs, holding up his own drink.

“Cheers to that.” They both clink cups, and C.J. briefly wonders if the universe is still laughing at her.

"You know, that spot should've gone to one of us." He muses, watching the partygoers continue to stumble around them. He doesn't say anything after that, and she bites.

"Why should it have gone to one of us?"

"Well, think about it. We're both the top of our class, and I know for a fact Stevens has submitted your writing to collegiate magazines. There's no fucking way Michael fucking Eichler should've got that spot over one of us." C.J. pauses. She had known that Stevens appreciated her writing, but not enough to submit it anywhere. If what Grayson was saying was true, why hadn't she gotten the apprenticeship?

"Nothing I can really do about it now. He got the spot, I didn't. I guess I can become a second rate author now." She takes another sip, and Grayson snorts unattractively.

"I'm sure you'll be okay, Bennett. If Stevens like you, I'm sure there's another author dumb enough to want to publish your work too." She glares at him.

"And here I thought we were becoming friends."

"As if you actually would've wanted to become friends with me."

"Oh yeah, that's what I do in between my Sylvia Plath crying sessions. Desperately wish that Grayson Dolan would become my best friend." Sarcasm drips off every word and he looks at her before taking another long sip of his drink.

“You know you’re actually kinda cool, Bennett. When you’re not trying to bite my head off in the middle of lecture”

“Maybe if you didn’t have such shitty takes, I wouldn’t want too.” Whatever retort Grayson was planning falls from his lips when Channing appears by his side, tucking herself underneath his arm.

"Hey, Gray. I got you another drink." Two Coronas hang from her manicured hand, and he whispers inaudibly to her, giggling between the two of them. C.J. begins to feel awkward, and coughs uncomfortably.

“Oh, you’re the GDI from earlier,” Channing looks up at her half-lidded, dark eyelashes framing red-tinged brown eyes.

“Yeah, that’s me.” Channing shifts her weight, biting her lip and feeling like an intruder. "I didn't know you two knew each other?" C.J. supplies, feeling desperate for conversation

"Gray and I had math together freshman year, "They both stare at each other awkwardly, silent tension as they wait for the other to speak.

“So, I’m gonna go." She speaks.

“No, you don’t have to." Channing is already turned back to Grayson, looking like she wouldn't mind C.J.'s exit.

“No it’s fine” Neither Grayson nor Channing seem to protest anymore, and C.J. turns back to see her friends looking at her, both amused and curious at her interaction with the duo. She begins to walk towards them, feet and heart sinking with every step, not feeling any better about her current predicament.

“Hey Bennett,” She turns around to face Grayson. “Think about what I said. About the internship stuff” She just nods, and leaves the pair. The moment she reaches her initial group, Alexi pulls her towards them.

“You and Dolan were just talking and it didn't end in a screaming match. That’s new. What did he want?”

“Nothing. Just typical Grayson Dolan bullshit."Alexi looks like she doesn't believe her, and frankly C.J. doesn't believe herself. She thinks back to what Grayson said, about how they were the only real competition for the apprenticeship. Whatever he meant by that could be handled tomorrow.

"C’mon. Didn’t you say something earlier today about tequila shots?” She asks

“Atta, girl. That’s what I’m talking about.” She lets Alexi drag her away, sparing one last look at Grayson before entering the fraternity house.

#grayson dolan #grayson dolan series #grayson dolan smut #grayson dolan imagine #grayson dolan blurb #grayson dolan fluff #grayson dolan angst #grayson dolan x reader #grayson dolan x y/n #dolan twins #dolan twins series #dolan twins smut #dolan twins imagine #dolan twins blurb #dolan twins fluff #dolan twins angst #dolan twins x reader #dolan twins x y/n

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radramblog · 4 years ago

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Have a plan to kill everyone you meet- Fallout New Vegas Genocide run notes

For some reason, and I can’t say why, I’ve had a hankering to play through Fallout: New Vegas again. There’s always a few quests I haven’t beaten, I guess, 100%% achievement completion or not.

However, video essays on moral choices in video games have been part of my feed recently, and like many, apparently, I’m someone who usually tries to pick the goody two-shoes options. But NO MORE! In this hypothetical future playthrough I wanna try and fuck over every single person, and for once end up with Bad Karma at the end.

I’ve seen a few things online about people doing murder only runs of this game, but I don’t think anyone’s tried this particular undertaking. Specifically, I’m not just gunning to gun down everyone I see, I’m going out of my way to kill as many named characters as possible. Using the Fallout Wiki as a hitlist, everyone it is possible to kill will be killed.

The following are my notes about routing such a playthrough. I hope they’re entertaining enough! :p

New Vegas Genocide Mode

The following characters cannot be killed for any reason:

The Forecaster, Melody, Max, Stacey, Lindsay, Pete, and Hector are all children and as such are undamagable- I’m sure a mod exists but I’m not gonna go download that, I don’t wanna end up on a list.

Festus is a robot whom projectiles pass through and who takes no damage from physical attacks. Besides, his artificial intelligence is limited enough that are you really actually killing anything there?

Vendortron is in an impenetrable booth, and while I’m pretty sure you can glitch into its box, I’m also pretty sure he respawns anyway.

Yes Man can be killed as many times as I like, and I will, but he always respawns so even if you piss off/kill off other factions you still have a path to endgame.

The following characters are mutually exclusive- i.e. you can get one, but not the other.

Ranger Stevens and Cato Hostilius- The missions You’ll Know It When It Happens and Arizona Killer are about being on the opposite sides of an assassination attempt on the President of the NCR. Ranger Stevens only shows up if you’re trying to stop it, and Cato Hostilius is your contact for trying to cause it.

Gabban, Alerio, and Martina Groesbeck- This all comes back to Vulpes Inculta. Vulpes shows up in two events- in Nipton when you first arrive there, and in the Strip when you leave the Tops after confronting Benny. Gabban replaces Vulpes in Nipton if you kill him in the Strip, and Alerio replaces him if you kill him at Nipton. If you don’t kill him at either, he returns to the Fort where you can receive a quest from him involving Martina. To my knowledge, she doesn’t spawn without that quest. I do need to investigate if in theory you can get the quest from Vulpes before killing him and without visiting Nipton, letting you kill both him and Gabban.

The Big Problem: Reputation

There are four characters whom only show up in their faction’s respective safehouses, requiring a significant dedication to not murdering people to unlock. In addition, access to certain quests with named characters (e.g. I Fought the Law) requires not being hated by the relevant faction. As such, we can’t start wantonly killing people until a certain point.

This gets complicated when it comes to the main 2 factions, being the Legion and the NCR. Fortunately, however, after the first act of the main story, reputation with both gets wiped (by Vulpes/Alerio and Crocker), which we can manipulate pretty well. It makes sense to do the NCR first, as reputation with them is more relevant overall and often costs Legion reputation.

This is the route I’ve figured out for how to work around this issue, including every quest that spawns uniquely named characters for us to murder. DLCs and Companions are currently not included, but shouldn’t be too hard to figure out. Except maybe Joshua Graham.

Start the game as a male character (Legion won’t let you in the pit fights if you’re a woman bc they’re sexist) and take Wild Wasteland (necessary for one event).

��AVOID THE FOLLOWING LOCATIONS/QUESTS: NIPTON, anywhere with major Powder Ganger concentrations, Ghost Town Gunfight/Run Goodsprings Run, Boulder City Showdown. We’re trying to maintain relationships with the NCR, Powder Gangers, and Great Khans as long as possible.

(At some point get enough Sunset Sarsaparilla Star caps to get Malcom to show up)

Head to Primm, picking up Ed-E and beginning his quest. This quest needs to be continued at minimum until April Martimer spawns in Freeside.

Solve Primm’s deputy problem somehow so Layla spawns later.

Make way to Freeside/New Vegas, however necessary.

Donate medical aid to Julie Farkas, raising Followers of the Apocalypse fame, until access to the Followers Safehouse is granted.

Go to the Atomic Wrangler and get Debt Collector (spawns Caleb McCaffery)

After acquiring the Cannibal perk, proceed down Beyond the Beef by working with Mortimer until Carlyle spawns.

Get and complete Bye Bye Love, spawning Big and Little Beard, making sure to kill everyone involved after Joanna gives the quest How Little We Know (spawns Cachino)

Go to Camp McCarran, and acquire quests Dealing with Contreras (spawns Keller), There Stands the Grass (spawns Keely), and Silus Treatment (lets you into Silus). Suck up to the NCR until access Colonel Hsu lets you into the Ranger Safehouse.

Go to Jacobstown and proceed along Guess who I Saw Today until Norton shows up.

Go to North Vegas Square and get Someone to Watch Over Me, proceeding until Greasy Johnny spawns.

Go to the Great Khan Encampment to get Don’t Make a Beggar of me, spawning Tyrone.

Go to the NCRCF and proceed down I Fought the Law, then betray the Powder Gangers to get Sergeant Lee to spawn.

Go to Hidden Valley and start Still in the Dark, spawning Ranger Dobson and killing him. Complete the quest to gain access to the Brotherhood of Steel Safehouse.

Go confront Benny at the Tops, resetting negative reputation with the Legion and NCR.

Proceed to the Fort and start the Legion questline, making sure to complete Laurifer Gladiator and start The Finger of Suspicion.

Keep going down the Legion Questline, eventually reaching Arizona Killer- make sure to kill Cato after assassinating Kimball and Watson.

If Lucius hasn’t given access to the Legion Safehouse yet, do bullshit for the Legion until he does (e.g. give Aurelius NCR Dogtags)

Once access is granted, it is now safe to start killing everyone! Have fun.

After the blood of your enemies, friends, and strangers covers everything, proceed down the Wild Card route to the endgame, making sure to kill Yes Man after every conversation, so you can get to the Second Battle of Hoover Dam and murder Legate Lanius. Don’t let Yes Man kill Lee Oliver, do it yourself!

As the credits roll, use glitches/godmode to regain control so you can go behind the slideshow and kill Ron the Narrator.

Still during the credits, end it all the only way we know how- blow yourself up, killing the last named character available to kill.

Maybe consider using console commands to spawn in the 2 characters that were mutually exclusive just to kill them. Might as well.

#ramble #...ish?#video games #fallout new vegas #genocide run #man i dont want to kill veronica though

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twilightofthesandwiches · 5 years ago

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I believe Greg’s claims that his family situation was horrible. When a grown-up man feels like he has no other choice but to run away from his family (remember, Greg was, like, 20 when he left) and then has absolutely nothing good to say about them for years and years later - that’s an indictment of the parents, not the son. They forced him into activities that had nothing to do with his actual intersts (including wrestling which can be... very unpleasant when you’re not into it), and absolutely forbade him from anything associated with the thing he actually LIKED, music. They didn’t allow him to dress and look the way he wanted and not in a “I am not letting my toddler wear the same shirt for 20 days in a row way’, in a “your son is 18 and you are still forcing him to cut his hair the way YOU want it to look”. That’s bad, that’s really bad. Greg wasn’t just sick of a ‘boring, mundane life on the suburbs with too much meatloaf’, he was suffocated in a toxic household.

And I understand why Greg was upset and defensive when Steven started with his ‘maybe your parents had a point’ thing. It must hurt to hear your son, the only family you really have in this world, defend the family you ran away from. Steven’s not thinking totally straight, he accuses Greg of keeping him away from his grandparents but he saw the stacks of unopened letters - implying that Greg has TRIED to keep in contact with them but the DeMayos were the one who refused. He’s focusing on the image of normalcy and humanity that the DeMayos house represents, on school and friends and graduations and home-cooking and adorable spoon collections - and not on Greg feeling they could never accept him and that he had to hide his most treasured possessions from his parents.

But ALSO Greg should apologize to Steven and work to be a better parent. Steven wouldn’t have been happier under an upbringing as strict and overcontrolling as the DeMayos. But Greg’s only two options weren’t “toxic overbearing ‘normalcy’” and ‘living in a van and never going to school’ - he is at fault for going into the absolute extreme opposite of his own upbringing and prehaps of projecting his own desires over Steven’s needs. Steven has told him, quite clearly, that he is upset about growing up without a stable roof over his head, about missing out on school (which both an opportunity for his future and a chance to expand his peer group and make a lot more friends), about never going to a doctor’s (nobody could guess what effect Rose’s healing powers could have on Steven’s body! Steven really lucked out that he didn’t NEED to go to the Doc for most issues, but nobody could have guessed it!) and Greg’s response was just “Yeah, but what I had was worse!”. I understand why Greg’s instincts were to go on the defensive but he is the adult and the dad and Steven is his teenage son it’s Literally His Job to be the bigger person in the argument.

And just as I consider Greg’s seemingly 100% negative feelings about the DeMayos indictment enough that they were shitty parents, then I find Steven’s mixed feelings about Greg as an indictment that Greg’s parenting has been flawed. Steven is currently a very messed up teenager, and Greg is his dad; Steven’s healthy development and happiness is his responsibility! I understand why Greg Turned Up the Way That He Did considering his background, but he is at the very least complicit in many of the Shit That Fucked Steven’s Mental State to the point that it is today. Even if I accept the idea that Steven HAD to live off-the-grid due to being a Gem (and I don’t necessarily. Yeah, his mother is a Space Alien, but his dad is a US citizen and he was born on US soil, he can have a fucking Social Security Number), Greg could have... like... tried to find some sort of structured non-Gem activity that Steven might be intersted in (we’re not going Full DeMayo here) like an afterschool class or something to give Steven a chance to develop his nonmagical skills and bond with more children his age. Which would have lowered the amount of time Steven was stuck alone in the Beach House just waiting for the Gems to come back and allowed him to develop his interpersonal skills and create a bigger support network for himself... these are things that could have really helped Steven in the long-run!

Steven opened up to Greg about his issues (and we know how hard it is to Steven to actually open up!), and what Greg ended up offering to him was more about Greg than about Steven. The message of the “Mr. Universe” song is “you can be free! You can be anything!” and that was clearly so meaningful and touching to young Gregory DeMayo, but it is the exact opposite of what Steven Universe wanted and asked for - some sort of direction and stabillity. And it’s... not the worst mistake in the world for a parent to make, to try and give your kids what YOU want rather than what THEY want, especially when you are dealing with such a complex problem as Steven has. But when you realize the You solution isn’t working... you have to process that it’s not working because they are not You and they require a change is perspective and maaaaaybe they might feel a little hurt that you were projecting on them and might want an apology or at least an acknowledgement that that’s what you were doing and that you’re going to Not Do It now?

If you are a parent and you have a child who is as messed-up as Steven is right now, that is kinda your responsibility bcause your child is your responsibility. If you have a child that is mad at you, you should at least have the self-awareness to think about what you might have done wrong. If your child literally shouts at you something that basically means “the source of all of my problems is the fact that I am your son”, then... that at least requires some self-reflection. Steven said stuff that was Dumb and Wrong and Hurtful things in this car argument, that’s true. He WOULDN’T have been happy under the thumb of parents like the DeMayos, Greg probably was justified in cutting them off, it’s not his dad’s fault that he never meant his grandparents. But inside these dumb and hurtful things there is a kernel of real frustration and hurt. And instead of acknowledging that frustration; Showing some sort of regret for not being able to give Steven a more stable and ‘normal’ home life that he now desires, promising to do better in the future, even just a “sorry I messed up, I didn’t mean to mess you up”... Greg just acts like he ignores it completely.

If your child has an outburst that they was clearly ashamed of and was clearly Pretty Unhealthy, you can’t just say “I’m proud of you, you called me out on my bullshit. And if you do, you can at least, like... acknowledge that things you were called on in any way???? Rather than just make it about yourself and YOUR upbringing and how it was much worse, which... even if ya don’t mean it, comes off as just you ‘proving’ that your parenting style IS right, because, hey! You can tell me anything! While meanwhile your kid is processing that no, he can’t tell you anything, because you are not actually doing anything useful for me right now. When your child tells you that your parenting style was bad and harmful to them, you should not immediately go into the same old routines you always do right after that???

I fear that the whole experience might have made Steven’s question Greg’s love for him, that maybe now he sees Greg’s kind and accepting nature as insincere and just as an attempt to overcompensate for his own issues. Is Greg really proud of him or does he just say it because that’s what he’s ‘supposed’ to say? But I have no doubt that Greg loves and cares for Steven a whole lot and that he raised Steven the way that he did because he thought that was the best option possible and that... the whole situation is just hard for him. Steven is dealing with a lot of issues that he never outwardly displayed to his parental figures before and it’s hard for them to adjust and to know what the right solution is. And it’s just plain easier to try and fall into your regular parenting techniques that always seemed to work before (like giving your child more ice cream and telling them their emotions are valid), rather than try and totally dismantle your approach to parenting in one evening.

It’s important to remember that Greg’s probably not in the best place right now either. Just because I think it is Greg’s responsibility as the Dad to be the bigger person in the argument and see what part of Steven’s complaints are valid... doesn’t mean it’s not also a hard thing to do when he’s also bringing up memories of Greg’s abusive childhood and saying his parents might not be all that bad. That’s gotta make it hard for Greg to think rationally about Steven’s words. And that’s not factoring in the supernatural element in which Steven’s trauma gives him Scary Dangerous Powers and Greg is the squishest, most fragile part of Steven’s family.

But it’s still Greg’s responsibility to make Steven happy and healthy, and on that day, on “Mr. Universe”, he messed that up. And I believe Steven when he says that he messed that up before too. Greg’s not a bad person, but... an apology for the missteps of parenthood is what Steven needed at that moment and what Steven was hoping for, and Greg’s inabillity to deliever it was what caused the rift in their relationship most of all. I mean... The show literally spells that Steven needs to hear some sort of ‘I’m sorry’, not just from Greg, but from all of his parental figures! Remember how “Prickly Pair” ended???

Cactus Steven is a metaphor for Meat Steven, for Cactus Steven to find peace he had to hear Meat Steven acknowledge that he hasn’t been the best parent and that he’s sorry. And it’s no coincedence that Steven has very rarely heard his parental figures apologize to him and that it has yet to happen in SUF, my prediction is that it’s gonna play some sort of part in the finale and with Steven fixing his relationship with Greg and the CGs.

#steven universe #steven quartz universe #greg universe #mr. universe #Steven universe future #prickly pair

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xxisxxisxxis · 5 years ago

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Deleted Scenes: Gateway Drug

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"Hot Cement" -- 1988

I stare down at the scale past my pregnant belly, my eyes watering at the number the needle has fallen on.

I've been trying to convince my mind I'm obviously going to gain weight because I'm growing a freaking human being in me but my subconscious has been torturing me with this complex that I've "let myself go."

I step off the scale and kick it across the bathroom, turning to the mirror to wipe my tears, resting my hands on the counter, looking at my reflection.

"'Pregnancy makes you pretty' my ass." I grumble, my hair that decided to get shitty and the spots on my face that I've picked at from hormonal changes mocking me. Not to mention the permanent bags under my eyes and the fact my tits haven't gotten any bigger yet.

It looks weird to have a B-cup with a triple-Z stomach.

I'm glad Nikki's in rehab and not here to see me like this because he'd think twice about regretting screwing all those thin, tan, smooth skinned, big breasted strippers who could still see their freaking feet past their stomachs—or lack thereof.

I grab my boobs through my t-shirt before frowning and lifting it, making mental comparisons.

I've noticed a majority of the girls Nikki wrote about sleeping with in his diaries have at least d-cups.

"Hey, you okay? I heard a crash in here." Steven peeks his head in and I sigh, pulling my shirt back down.

"Yeah, Stevie." I assure him flatly.

"Are you sure? Ya don't sound sure." He replies.

"You're a guy...I need you to be honest with me about something." I say and he raises his brows and steps in.

"What's up?"

I look in the mirror again and take a breath.

"Do you think my boobs are a good size?"

He looks confused for a moment before asking, "is this a trick question?"

"No, I've just…well, Nikki's given me a lot of his diaries he's kept over the years for me to read through because I asked him how many women he's slept with while we've been together...there's not a shortage of women with bountiful loads of boob." I roll my eyes. "Trust me, I know, I've tracked down the ones he mentioned by name--just to see what they looked like. It's pathetic, I know, but none of them look like me." I state. "And maybe he just got bored because I wasn't woman-looking enough or whatever, I don't know...so I'm thinking if I go a couple sizes up it'll be a nice surprise for him or something." I suggest and Steven just stares at me. "...Or I'm a complete idiot."

"Viv, the itty-bitty-with-enormous-fake- knockers-type aren't the ones most guys actually wanna marry. They're just a good time and fun to sleep with." He explains with a shrug.

"I'm obviously not enough fun to sleep with anymore or he wouldn't have chased pussy elsewhere."

"You're obviously fun to sleep with or Duff wouldn't have gotten caught up and did enough damage to knock you up." He smiles a little, trying to cheer me up.

"Please, Duff was so in love with me, just getting a glance at the top of my foot was enough to make him blow." I reply and he chuckles. "He really appreciated me, you know." I add next. "It's just exhausting sitting with Nikki for two hours, just hearing him confess everything...everything showing me how unappreciative he was of me from the night we got married to the night he died, Steven."

"I know, babe."

"You know he wrote about sleeping with two different women in one night during one of my depressive episodes because I wasn't as enthusiastic to sleep with him as normal so I mainly just laid there and let him do whatever and it hurt his feelings." I tell him, my voice slightly shaky. "He didn't tell me it hurt him or made him feel less than--like he couldn't do his job right to get me in the mood--he just bottled it up and went elsewhere to get his satisfaction." I scoff, trying to push through wanting to cry.

"Viv, that's not your fault." Steven tells me. "It's not."

"I just...Stevie, I look at him sometimes and I just feel so much hate. Like, I used to stop myself from letting my resentment reach the point of hate--even when I'd tell him I hated him I didn't mean it because I wouldn't let myself mean it, but sometimes…I told him Monday that I was happy I was pregnant with Duff's baby and not his because I didn't want a child with a demon seed planted in it like he had planted in him."

Steven's face falls but he doesn't say a word.

"And that's fucked, I know it is, and God hasn't been happy with me about it because stupid crap keeps happening to me since I said it but just listening to him tell me everything, every woman, every drug, every date with Vanity…" I can't finish, having to sniffle and wipe the tears from my lashes. "...I could have a baby with every single one of you guys and I still don't think it would hurt him as much as he's hurt me."

"That's bullshit, Vivian." He defends Nikki. "I'm not saying what he did was okay but you know he's hurt like a motherfucker over this kid. And not being able to cope with it how he's used to coping with it is probably making it even harder on him because he's actually having to deal with it." He reminds me. "And it doesn't help that Duff--one of his friends--is the dad."

He has a point.

"I guess." I mumble, wiping my nose on the back of my hand before looking in the mirror again.

"And about the tit dilemma, those big implants can look hot as hell sometimes, but they always feel like fucking cement." He says and the corners of my mouth pull slightly upward as he steps closer to me. "So, yeah, the ability to actually do this," he grabs my boobs for a second and I laugh, his arms wrapping around me, hugging me to him, "without the fear of popping one is pretty damn good." He assures me, rocking me back and forth a little. "You're perfect how you look now, Viv, I promise." He adds. "And I know Nikki thinks so, too."

"Thanks, Steven." I breathe out, my eyes watering once more.

He just kisses my hair and gives me a bright smile in the mirror.

#gateway drug

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marwritesgood · 6 years ago

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Changes | S. Harrington

Pairing: Steve x Henderson!Reader

Timeframe: Season 3

Summary: When Dustin asks his sister to take him to Scoops Ahoy so he can see Steve, she knows it’s time to break the news to him.

masterlist

A/N: Send your requests in! I’m finishing Season 3 as we speak.

“Henderson! He’s back!”

When Dustin kept nagging me to drive him to Starcourt so he could see Steve for the first time since getting back from camp, I would have never anticipated the greeting they gave one another the minute Steve bursted through the doors.

“You got the job,” Dustin exclaimed, grinning happily. I knew he was disappointed about not reaching Suzie, and his friends not welcoming the way he wanted, so it was nice to see him happy again for a change.

“I got the job!” Steve laughed back, matching Dustin’s enthusiasm, something I had gotten mildly used to during our time together over the summer so far.

After the two exchanged a complex, yet extremely dorky handshake, I sighed and leaned against the counter. Robin and I shared an amused glance, before turning our attention back to the two boys who were giggling, for having completed their elaborate handshake which ended with them pretending to vomit. Classic.

“How many children are you friends with?” Robin asked from behind the register. I tried my best to stifle the urge to laugh, but Steve’s inability to respond to her question sent me reeling.

“Okay, alright,” he droned, acting like he didn’t appreciate mine and Robin’s amusement, however, his unfazed grin suggested otherwise. “Henderson, you look like you’re in need of some ice cream, yeah? On the house.”

“Alright,” Dustin cheered. I didn’t think it would be possible for his mood to improve even more, but ice cream has that kind of effect on people. “I could go for a banana split boat.”

“You got it,” Steve answered, before turning to me with a smirk. “I think I might need an extra set of hands though, since Robin’s working the counter-”

“Oh jeez,” Robin sighed, knowing exactly where he was going with this.

“Y/n? Could you gimme some help?”

“Suuure,” I answered, in my artificially sweet tone. I hadn’t broken the news to Dustin yet, that Steve and I were dating, and he was making it really difficult to hide with all of his smirks and side glances. “Dusty, go save us a table and we’ll bring it out to you, yeah?”

“Okay,” he answered, too overcome with joy and excitement to take note of anything weird in our behaviour. Thank goodness.

After Dustin began walking towards the closest empty table he could find, Steve took my hand and gently pulled me along as he hastily made his way to the back room of Ships Ahoy, making sure my little brother wasn’t looking.

“You haven’t told him yet, have you?”

“I tried to,” I said, trying to reason with him. We had agreed that I would tell Dustin about our relationship as soon as he got home from camp, but with his friends surprising him and him getting disappointed when he couldn’t reach Suzie, it got increasingly difficult to bring up. “But then Mike and El bailed on him, and he couldn’t get Suzie to reply so Lucas and Max still don’t believe she’s real, and I didn’t want to overwhelm him.”

“Babe, slow down,” Steve said softly, placing both of his hands on my shoulders and breathing deeply, so that I could follow.

“He was just really bummed out,” I explained. “And he was super excited to see you, and I didn’t wanna change that.”

“Okay, I get it. We’ll just tell him now. Together... After we give him the ice cream, yeah?” I nodded after chuckling lightly. “But, I gotta ask... Was he... The only one excited to come see me again?”

He didn’t wait a second, to pull me closer to him, and snaking his arms around my lower back. As he leaned in towards me, staring intently at my lips, I placed my hand on his shoulders and kept him from getting any closer.

“What are you doing? He can probably see our silhouettes.”

“Aw, c’mon,” he whined, frowning as he reluctantly leaned back. He still kept his around me, and gently tightened his grasp. “I haven’t seen you all week. Can’t I have just one kiss before we break your little brother’s heart?”

“Well I’ll be damned. Do my ears deceive me?” I gasped dramatically, before linking my fingers together behind his neck. “Have I been transported to an alternate dimension, or is the Steve Harrington actually begging?”

“You know what you do to me,” he leaned close and whispered in my ear. It was needless to say that, even after years of dealing with his bullshit, and almost an entire month of dealing with his whining, he still knew just what to say to make my heart jump.

“Tell you what,” I began, before slowing pulling away from Steve, who reluctantly released his grasp. “You help me get through breaking the news to Dustin, and I’ll consider ‘accidentally’ making my way over to your place after I drop him off at home. Deal?”

I hold my hand out for him to shake, the way we always would when making deals. A tradition that dates back to our time together in middle school. But, instead of shaking my hand, Steve takes hold of it, lifts it up, and kisses the back of it. Before I can react, he quickly turns towards the ice cream tubs, and begins assembling the banana split boat.

“You’re such a dork,” I laughed, before helping him with the toppings.

After we finished Dustin’s banana split, I held the door open for Steve so he could take it to the table where he sat. We had been in the back room for at least twenty minutes, but Dustin’s excitement remained unfazed. This both warmed my heart and brought me a strong feeling of unease.

“Hey Y/n,” Robin called out to me, as I followed Steve towards the table. When I turned to face her, she held out a cone with two scoops of my favourite flavour of ice cream. “For you... You look like you need it.”

“Angel, Robin,” I muttered, before eagerly taking the ice cream from her hands. “You are an angel. A whole fucking guardian one.”

She tipped her hat off, making me chuckle, before I turned to see Steve sitting with Dustin. I walked over to their table, and sat on the left side , so that Dustin was inbetween Steve and I. They were in the middle of a conversation about Suzie, Dustin’s girlfriend.

“No way,” Steve said, shaking his head at Dustin, who lifted a heaped spoonful of ice cream to his mouth. “Hotter than Phoebe Cates? No way.”

“What was that Steve?” I asked in annoyance, daring him to call another woman hot in front of me again. He quickly realised I was at the table too, and smiled cheekily at me. “Hm? Oh, nothing,” he answered.

“So do you really just get to eat as much of this as you want?”

Dustin was an easily mesmerised kid, I knew that better than anyone. The prospect of free unlimited food, however, was something he will forever be blown away by.

“Yeah, I mean sure,” Steve shrugged. “It’s not really a good idea for me, though. You know, ‘cause I gotta keep in shape for...”

I raised my eyebrows, and Robin did too from her spot all the way from behind the register. Was this really how he wanted to tell my little brother we were dating? Steven quickly noticed my expression of concern, and kept himself from finishing the sentence with my name.

“... the ladies.”

“The ladies?” Dustin repeated, amused by Steve’s response.

“Yeah, the ladies, Steve?” I repeated, in a more aggressive tone, with eyebrows still raised and eyes widened. Steve found my expression entertaining, and smiled playfully in response

“Yeah. The ladies,” he affirmed. “One girl in particular, actually. She’s about Y/n’s height. Works with Miss Byers at Melvald’s. I think you know her?”

“She sounds like a real catch,” I exclaimed, whilst smiling proudly.

“Ehh,” Steve muttered, tilting his head from side to side. I pretended to be angry, and glared playfully at him. He returned the favour. “She’s alright. Never lets me kiss her, though. And her family members are a little weird.”

“Is that so?” I asked dramatically, crossing my arms in an exaggerated manner.

“Oh yeah,” he answered, a bit too quickly for my likings. “She has this little brother-”

Before we could keep playing the little act we found ourselves playing, Dustin cut in. Only then did we realise how confused the poor kid must have been, and how horrible of a job we were doing in easing him into the news. Perhaps the bandaid approach was our only option.

“What’s going on? Am I missing something?”

“We... We have to tell you something,” Steve explained, before nodding towards me. Once Dustin turned to face me, I took a deep breath before beginning.

“Buddy,” I murmured, causing Dustin to immediately groan as though he were in excruciating pain. “What?”

“You only call me buddy when you tell me bad news,” he said, and just like that his expression was completely drained of all the joy and enthusiasm he was initially overflowed with after his reunion with Steve. “So, what is it this time? Are you moving away? Is Steve terminally ill? Did you two go on a date while I was away?”

I suppose for a kid who grew up playing DnD, we should have anticipated he would be great at figuring out what people are gonna do or say next. When Steve and I remained silent, Dustin’s jaw dropped.

“You guys went on a date while I was away?!”

“No,” Steve answered defensively, trying to get Dustin to calm down. “I’ve taken her out on at least 7 dates while you were away.”

I lifted my hand up to my face and sighed. Robin did the same, having been able to see and hear everything that was happening.

“WHAT?!”

“Dusty, calm down,” I said softly, placing my hand on his shoulder, less in an attempt to soothe him and more as a precautionary measure in case he stood up to do something.

“My sister, Steve?... Really? Of all the girls in this fucking town, you decide to go for my sister.”

“Hey,” I cried out in offence.

“Ugh, you know what I mean,” Dustin says, frustrated. “Why didn’t you guys tell me? Y/n, you sent me two whole letters while I was away... You didn’t think the fact that you and Steve were sucking faces is something important to note in?”

“I knew you’d react like this,” I explained calmly, trying to mellow down the mood of our conversation.

“Because everything is changing,” he cried. I glanced over at Steve briefly, and he looked just as gutted as I was. After taking yet another deep breath, I wrapped my arm around Dustin’s shoulder.

“Look, Dusty, I get that a lot of things are changing,” I began. “But change doesn’t always have to be a bad thing.”

“Yeah,” Steve chimed in. “And just because Y/n and I are- I don’t wanna say sucking faces.”

“Yeah, please don’t,” I warned.

“Just because we’re going out, doesn’t mean anything else is gonna change too,” he explained. “Y/n’s still gonna be your sister, and I’ll still be here for you whenever you need. If anything, things are changing for the better.”

I had to hand it to him. Steve would make a great mom.

“I guess it is pretty cool that you guys are sucking faces.”

“-Again, I do not like that phrase,” I muttered, making both of them chuckle.

“And I s’pose if anyone’s gonna date my sister, I’m glad it’s you, Steve, and not someone like... Like that guy you were talking about before- Matt Lewinsky.”

“Right?! That guy is so lame. Spent all of last season on the bench.”

“Okay, moving on,” I said, as I rolled my eyes. I had heard enough of Steve’s complaints about Lewinsky to last a lifetime. I was not about to sit and listen to another one. “Are you okay now, Dust? Are we good?”

“Yeah,” he sighed, before reaching for the rest of his banana split. “Just... Don’t... do couple stuff in front of me. I’m cool with you two dating, but that doesn’t mean I’m not weirded out by it.”

“So, you’re saying it’d be weird for you if I did this?”

As Dustin leaned over to finish his banana split, Steve stood up as much as he could, and leaned towards me, pecking my lips quickly, but long enough for my little brother to squirm. I giggled, both amused by Steve’s antics and relieved that our relationship was out in the open now.

“I finally got my fucking kiss,” Steve stated proudly, completely unbothered by how very visibly bothered Dustin was.

Deep down, we both knew the kid was happy that of all the teenagers falling in love this summer, his sister and the guy he looked up to did so with one another.

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demivampirew · 5 years ago

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So we meet again - part 3

Henry x Reader x Chris

Summary: A recent graduate recounters someone from her past with who things did not exactly ended up in great terms. She holds a grudge on him for that and still has unanswered questions about what happened.

You can find part 1 and 2 in the Masterlist

Triggers: cursing, drinking and mentions of dead relatives.

Finally, after a raw couple of months, you're luck was starting to change. You finished and published your book and it was a sensation among the academic community. Not much after lunch you received a call inviting you to a discution of your work held in Harvard University and the interviewer was not other than Steven Pinker himself - a cognitive psychologist, linguist, and popular science author. He is Johnstone Family Professor in the Department of Psychology at Harvard University. In fact, his point of view in the topic of language acquisition was something you talked about in your book. That was a great day in your career. You decided to go to the pub to celebrated with your friend Mark -he was the only friend you could celebrate good news with, since your other two friends were always busy, one with her shifts in the hospital and the other with her son. - Guess who is going to have a special event to talk about her work on Havard University? - you said smiling to your friend as you sat next to the bar. - Beyoncé? Not, I know the answer... Meryl! - Mark joked - Haha, pretty funny - you replied sarcastically. - Congrats, babe! - he cheered as he handed you a Guinness - Thanks, love. - you thanked him happily and drink the cold beer. - So, have you heard the news? - he asked you as he raised an eyebrow - What news? - you questioned confused - Superman broke up with blondie. - he informed amused - Oh. Well, bad for them I guess. - you replied trying to show how little you cared about your former friends - Do you want to know how I know they broke up? - Not really, but I have the feeling you will tell me anyway. - He was here yesterday and told me himself. He also wanted to talk to you, so he asked me to give you this. - Mark said as he handed you a piece of paper with a phone number on it. You grabbed the piece of paper and tore it up into tiny pieces and then gave it back to him. - Mark, sweetie, would you do me the favor of put this into the trash can? - you requested and he did as you told him, looking you as if you were crazy. - Oh, damn! Someone's pissed. - he pointed out. - Someone's tired of being a punchbag.- you implied - Everytime he shows up in my life, I end up crying and feeling awful. So I want him far away from me. If he comes back again, tell him I want him to fuck off and leave me alone. - you demanded and took another zip of your drink. - Ok. I'll do it - he promessed, looking at you afraid, like if you were a hungry tiger. - Changing the subject, will you help me plan a surprise birthday party for George? I could really use a hand. - Absolutely, count with me for anything you need, love.- you assured him. - This is for you - said Charlotte as she approached you from the other side of the bar, handing you another beer.- This is from the gentleman over there- pointed out the bartender, as she nodded in direction where the tables were and a young man was smiling at you as you took at look at him. You recognized him immediately; it was not other than Captain America. You grabbed the beer and raised it in a sign of thank you and started to drink it. He then stood up and started to walk towards you. He sat next to you on the bar and smiled at you. - I'm Chris.- he introduced himself, offering you his hand. - Y/N - you replied shooking his hand. - All drinks of this lovely lady are on me.- he said to Mark and Charlotte and the three of you burst on laughing and he look at everybody, confused, knowing that there was an inside joke he was missing. - Don't worry about it, all of her drinks are on the house.- Mark explained- She's part owner of the place. - Seriously? - he asked surprised, looking at you, smirking - Kind of.- you added - My uncle is the real owner. My father helped him built the place and after he passed, my sister and I inherit his part. But, my uncle is the real owner. - And one day, unless he decides to have kids, this will be yours.- Mark pointed out. - Apparenty that's what Uncle John wants.- you shrugged, like if it wasn't a big deal. - Impressive. - Chris exclaimed - More impressive is the fact that she's a start in the academic world. She's a genious.- your friend bragged on your behalf. - Oh, yeah? - the actor asked curious - Yes. She's a proffesor on the best college in London and also wrote a successfull book and now she's going to have an event throw in her honour at Harvard University. - Wow, it looks like I found a really smart woman.- he said smiling.- I really find that extremely attractive. - Do you want to know to know what I find attractive? - you asked with a seductive voice, getting closer to him. He had his eyes set on your lips as you talked. - Please do tell.- he replied - Iron Man. - you replied as you started laughing and he joined your laugh. - Haha, very funny.- he told you - Not only smart but also hilarious. - Well, who said that you can't be both? - you asked as you finish your beer. - Good point. I like your sense of humor. Will you like to entertain me so more with your cute jokes on somewhere more private? - I don't have sex when I drink.- you indicated him. - You're very direct, aren't you? - he laughed amused and you shrugged. - That was not my plan...at least not for tonight. - he explained and winked. - I was thinking more of a private conversation about your work and life and things you enjoy, while we have a good laugh with your incredible funny comments. - I'd love to do that. Another day, maybe? - you questioned as you saw your uncle come out from his office and approach you. - Absolutely. Will you like to have dinner with me tomorrow? - he questioned - Sure. - you replied - Here's her number.- interrupted Mark as he handed Chris a piece of paper with your phone number written on it. - Sweetie, do you need a ride home? - asked you your godfather. - Yes, please.- you prompted. Wait for me for a minute, please? - you requested - Sure. Mark, Charlotte, I'll see you tomorrow.- he said goodbye to his employees. - Bye, John- both bartenders saluted him. - Ok, so you text me and then we'll arenge everything, ok? - you told Chris. - I'll call you in the morning.-he promesed. - Alright.- you replied and say goodbye to everyone as you went to the door. In the ride home, you were looking through the window and smiling. - You seem pretty happy.- teased you your uncle and you laugh. - I am. Today I got a call from Harvard; they wanted me to talk in an event dedicated to my book and the host is not other than Steven Pinker.- you explained - I don't know who he is, but I'm pretty sure he's important, so congratulations.- he exclaimed, just as excited as you were. - He is. He's one of the people whose work I discuss in my book. - That's great, darling! - he said happy for you - Now tell me, is that the only reason you're smiling? - he said and gave you a quick look while raising an eyebrow and then set his eyes back on the road. - I saw you talk with Chris Evans. - I'm surprised you know who he is. - you replied amused - Hey, I'm only 47 and I love Marvel movies. Of course, I know who he is.- he reproached you laughing. - You're right, sorry. - you apologized. - So, I heard you're going out with him. - Yep. He asked me out to dinner tomorrow. - What about the other superhero? - he questioned and gave you another quick look to see your reaction. - What superhero? - you asked, pretending to be confused - You know who I'm talking about. - he called out your bullshit, he knew you were pretending not to know- Superman. - He's out of my life. He's been out of my life for a while. - you replied without smiling. - It seems like you're not out of his. He's been on the pub constantly in the last few weeks, always looking at the bar, my office and the entrance. I'm bet my life he was looking for you. - Maybe he's waiting for me to introduce him to another friend so he can date her.- you told bitterly. Your uncle decided not to comment on the subject anymore. After you got to your place, you went straight to the bathroom to take a quick shower before heading to bed, when you saw that you had a direct message on Instagram. It was from Henry. "Could we meet and talk, please? I really need to talk to you" he wrote. You looked at the message for a moment, and as you were about to reply, you remembered the whole situation with Tara, and that made you angry. So, instead of replying, you blocked him and left your phone as you entered the shower.

#henry cavill #chris evans #henry cavill x reader #chris evans x reader #henry x reader x chris #henry cavill fanfic #henry cavill fanfiction #chris evans fanfic #chris evans fanfiction #demivampirew #my gifs

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ubernoxa · 5 years ago

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The Token: A GNR FanFic

Chapter 5: Burnt Pastries and Coffee

Masterlist

Story Summary: Story inspired by the movie She’s the Man. A female Duff is tired of dealing with the bullshit of trying to make it on the strip as a female bassist. Did Michelle think it through as she chopped her hair? Nope. All she knew was that she wanted to make it on the strip. If she had to mascarade as a guy, so it shall be.

Chapter Summary: Izzy and Axl stop by Michelle’s work.

Tags: Taglist: @viralwolf02 @littlemisscare-all @smokeandmirrorz @aratbaby @slashscowboyboots

I have absolutely no desire to be at work this morning. My head hurt, my hand hurt, my arms hurt, hell EVERYTHING hurt. I popped my third aspirin of the morning into my mouth after dealing with an annoying customer who was complaining about how we were out of cherry danishes. It took every ounce of my will power to calmly tell her why we were sold out. Not only were the cherry danishes a very popular item, but we also stop making them at 10. Eventually she calmed down and made some comment how I should have gotten a better education to get a real job, but I digress. All I want to get across is that I should win some sort of acting award for smiling and not shoving a cherry pastry up her you know what.

“You know you’re only supposed to take one of those every 6 hours right?” I glared down my coworker wishing he would just leave me alone.

On top of the pain, my head was sweating because of the stupid wig. I felt like I had just gotten out of the shower and had yet to dry my hair. I wanted nothing more than my shift to finish, so I could take a shower.

I was grateful this morning when my coworker noticed my...hungover state and offered to run the register while I made the drinks. It was unconventional, but I defiantly appreciated it. I always looked forward to working with Derek during my shift. He was a nice guy, super easy to get along with. ..unless he was bugging you about the serving size for pain killers.

Any normal musician would smile and feel a sense of relief if a couple of her band mates came into the coffee shop, but I’m not what they call a normal musician. I felt my stomach tighten as the came in.

“Wow they just let anybody in here now,” an older woman said as I handed her the coffee she ordered.

“Well...we are open to the public, ma’am,” I replied before I returned to making the next order. I heard my coworker hide a snicker.

I watched the Indiana boys as they slowly made their way over to the pick up counter. Why were they here?

“Hey,” I ignored Axl at first. I didn’t want to give Derek the idea that I was friends with them because not too long ago I would constantly complain about them. ObViously my opinion of them has changed over the past days. I could feel Derek’s eyes wander towards me as I blended the smoothie I was making. When I heard Izzy raise his voice this time, I turned the blender on and blended the smoothie one last time.

I poured the smoothie out of the blender, turning around sending them a warm smile as if it was the first time I heard or saw them.

“Order for Tracy!” I cheered as I handed a girl no older than me her pink smoothie pulling her from the flirty eyes she was sending Axl and Izzy.

“Hey,” I stood at the counter smiling at the pair who were definitely out of their element.

“You guys look horribly out of place, you looking for Duff?” I asked trying to remember that Michelle didn’t like the Indiana boys.

“Nah, you guys dating or some shit?,” I let a laugh escape me as Axl finished talking.

I stood still and shook my head. “You think I’m his groupie?” Izzy sent me a look that meant one thing, careful. Did they really come down just to ask me that.

“Funny, Slash said the same thing last night,” I heard Axl say out loud. Why? I have no idea.

“Why you curious about Duff’s love life?” I tried to causally ask, but it definitely came out awkward.

“I’m more curious about the girl who gave us the free coffee.”

“Axl, don’t forget that’s the same girl who has definitely thrown a punch or two your way in the past,” I snapped back. It needed to sound hard. Duff..was was their band mate, friend even, but Michelle...she was the girl who had been in several fights with the pair.

“And yet..I don’t recall you every landing a punch,” I rolled my eyes as Axl spoke. I was in no mood for this.

“Did you guys come here to pick up chicks or something else. If you were coming for the girls, you definitely got their attention,” I asked as I tilted my head in the direction of the girls who hadn’t stopped looking at the pair.

“Didn’t notice,” Izzy cooly replied.

“Well, if you’re here to pick up a girl. You wouldn’t need to look far,” I gestured towards another table that had a few girls who were trying to discretely check out the pair, key word trying. The coffee shop was in a nicer part of town, and these rich girls had a thing for rockers. Something about the whole bad boys vide...at least that’s what I’ve been told.

“Come on Michie, we both know I don’t need to look for girls. Girls look for me,” he gently played with my fingers as he spoke. A small laugh escaped my lips.

I sent Izzy a ‘what the actual fuck’ look before he stepped forward.

“Thanks for the coffee, yesterday. It was the pick me up we all needed,” I thanked God that Izzy had decided to interrupt whatever conversation we were talking about.

“You should come to our next show. We’d love to have you there! Especially Duff, he seems to get a little red whenever we mention you,” Axl added.

So that was their reason for coming here? They wanted to invite me to their next gig? That was kind that they would do that for their band mate, but too bad that was never going to fucking happen.

“Sorry but I work nights,” I shrugged.

“You’re a coffee shop, who the hell buys coffee at night?” I stared Axl down as I felt like an idiot. How the hell did I not think the lie this far through.

“Yeah, we.....make the dough...and pastry stuff the night before! If you want the next time I work late I can give Duff a couple pastries for one of your practices,” I said praying he would buy into my answer. The offer of free food hopefully distracting him. Smooth, very smooth Michelle. I was mentally kicking myself.

“I’ll never turn down free food,” Axl flashed the first genuine smile he has ever sent in my direction when I was Michelle.

“You used to perform nights all the time, what happened,” I wanted to slap Izzy senseless when he opened his mouth and asked that question. He knew it was all a lie, so why was he pressing further. Did he enjoy watching me squirm?

“I got a recent promotion,” I cockily replied. It was such a blatant lie. I burnt half the pastries I made the other day. I was distracted by trying to figure out a line or two for a new Guns N’ Roses song. No way a promotion was in sight for me especially since I caused the pastry today’s shortage.

“Didn’t know you watched me perform...” I hadn’t meant to say that out loud, but the words came out of my mouth anyway.

“There probably isn’t a guy on the strip who hasn’t seen Pixie perform. Plus from what I’ve heard about you..,” Axl’s tone pissed me off as he spoke. How was he so infuriating?

“You guys weren’t bad,” Izzy interrupted Axl from digging his hole. Obviously it was an attempt to move on from Axl’s stupid comment.

“Thanks, I’ll take not bad,” I offered a half baked smile as I spoke.

“What did you make me again, yesterday? You know the coffee you gave Duff? It was good,” Axl leaned forward as he spoke.

“Cinnamon coffee, but if you’re looking to try something new I recommend the vanilla berry coffee. It’s not on the menu, but it’s a house special,” I shot Izzy a quick glance and I could tell he was hiding a smirk. He knew this wasn’t just any ordinary coffee, it was karma coffee. (As I like to call it)

“Sounds good! Can I have that?”

“Michelle, I pay you to make coffee and other drinks. If you want to keep your job I recommend you do your job,” I turned to my uncle and flashed him a quick smile and nod. It was clear my uncle knew this wasn’t a conversation about work.

“Axl, I know this whole coffee shop thing is probably new to you, but you gotta order at the register,” I teased before returning to work.

“You okay?” I turned to Derek who seems somewhat concerned.

“Besides this headache I’m good...why?” I quickly rebutted. What the hell was he trying to get at?

“I don’t know much about the Strip, but for the past months I have heard you bitch about Axl and Izzy. Why are you being so nice to them all of a sudden?”

“I’m not they’re just...associates that’s all,” Derek made no attempt to hide his eye roll as I spoke.

“They’re gonna order some weird shit, just written it down and I’ll make it. Also just charge their orders to me. You know I’ll pay it. I’m good for the money,” I said as I walked past Derek to get more cups.

“Yup just associates.” Derek mumbled under his breath.

——————-

“It should be Take me down to the paradise city where the girls are fat and got big tities,” the room bust into laughter as I shook my head at him. We had been working on a song back at the ‘hell house’ as Axl called it for the past couple of hours. I would be lying if I said any of us were sober.

“No,” was all I could muster. My speech was beyond stuttered and slurred as I spoke. It was slowly becoming harder and harder to keep my voice deep.

“Why not? I love me some big girls and titties,” Slash threw his hands up in defense.

“I like grass is green waaay better,” I said before I finished my fifth or sixth beer. No wait seventh.

“Duffles,”

“Slaaaaaaash,”

He then continued to sing take me down to the paradise city where the girls are fat and got big tities. I was about to give in, but Steven immediately jumped in.

“I agree with Duff on this one,” Steven said before taking another sip of his drink.

“Thank fuckin god,” I mumbled the words under my breath, but somehow Axl must have heard me.

“Thank god you joined the band,” Axl sent a smile his way.

I felt a little pride flow through my veins as Steven and Axl agreed with me. This was new, the feeling of comrodery. In the past if I said something in one of my previous bands I was immediately shot down or completely ignored. I could get used to this.

I could feel a smile plaster on my face as I leaned back into the couch. We continued to fiddle around with different cords and lyrics for the next hour not really accomplishing much. The song was pretty good, if I may say so in my non sober state, but it wasn’t ready yet. There was something missing and I couldn’t put my finger on it.

I almost jumped as I felt Izzy twirling my hair around his finger. I quickly snapped my head in his direction as he spoke to Axl. Was Izzy just doing this because he was drunk and knew I was a chick? I quickly looked around the room making sure not to draw attention to myself, and noticed that Izzy was either being incredibly discrete or everyone else was plastered. Maybe it was both?

“Looks like he’s out for the night,” Slash pointed towards Steven who earlier was passed out on the floor.

“Yeah,” he passed out like 20 minutes ago.

“Hey Slash,” I perked up as a couple girls came stumbling into the apartment. I couldn’t help but smile at Slash’s drunk girlfriend. She was sweet. If I met her as Michelle, I believe we would have been good friends. She came stumbling into the apartment with a couple of her friends, something that wasn’t incredibly uncommon. I watched as Axl quickly joined Slash heading to one of the shared closets that were setup as bedrooms. The last time Slash’s girlfriend stopped by with friends, they had made advances on me which Izzy immediately interrupted. I brought him a coffee the next day as a thank you.

“Do you want me to walk you home?” I perked my head up as he spoke.

“I’m a long ways away,” I let a giggle escape me as relaxed. Besides Steven who was clearly passed out, Izzy and I were the only two in the room.

“Stay the night then,” I giggled at his response before I finished my drink.

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sunriserose1023 · 5 years ago

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Another Try [3]

SUMMARY: He was supposed to return the Infinity Stones. He used them instead. WORD COUNT: 2063 PAIRING: Steve Rogers x Female Reader WARNINGS FOR THE SERIES: Language, canon divergent, timeline delineation, explicit sexual content, canon-typical situations/injuries, more warnings will be added/removed as the series progresses

“You want to tell me what the fuck that was about?”

Steve raised his eyebrows as he looked across the gym at his best friend. God, Bucky looked fantastic. He looked … healthy. His hair wasn’t as long as it once had been, but it wasn’t short like it had been in the Forties, either. Steve watched as Bucky gathered it into his hands, pulling a hair tie off his wrist and tying his hair into a bun. His left arm was shiny, not the dark vibranium arm he’d gotten in Wakanda before the snap, but the same arm he’d had during their tussle when he was the Winter Soldier. Steve felt a twinge of pain deep in his gut when he thought back to that, when they’d fought and Bucky had shot him multiple times before they’d fallen into the water.

He wondered if they’d even had that fight in this timeline. It didn’t seem that way; Bucky was too … free here. Too comfortable in the compound.

Maybe that meant … he didn’t kill Howard and Maria?

Steve shook his head, making a mental note to research that along with everything else later, and Bucky tossed his metal arm out towards the door.

“Why’d you kiss her?”

Steve shrugged his shoulders, walking towards the pull up bars.

“Why not?” “Why n—the fuck you mean, ‘why not?’ Steven.”

Steve used his arms to lift himself up, lowering his body before lifting himself up again, settling into a rhythm. Bucky shook his head, moving to stand in front of the bar, head bobbing as he watched Steve move up and down.

“Seriously, though. What the fuck, man?”

Steve gave an exasperated laugh, shaking his head, dropping to the ground. He’d lost count, anyway. He brushed his hands off, laughing again when Bucky gave his shoulder a shove, nodding at his best friend as he spoke.

“Do you want to kiss her?”

Bucky made a face.

“No!” “Then why does it matter?”

Bucky blinked.

“Because, Captain America, you don’t go around kissing dames like that. Especially not in front of the team.”

“Careful, Buck. Your ‘40s is slipping out.”

Bucky had always had a tendency to dip into ‘40s slang when he got going, something that clearly hadn’t changed and made Steve smile. Bucky narrowed his eyes, and Steve’s smile widened. He leaned over and gripped Bucky’s flesh shoulder.

“Have I somehow tarnished your view of me? Did that kiss scandalize you, Buck?” “Get off me.”

Steve laughed as Bucky wrenched away from him. Bucky shook his head as he spoke.

“It’s not my fault you put off that star-spangled virgin air. It’s just … weird. You don’t show affection like that.”

Steve nodded.

“Maybe I’m gonna start.” “Why? Did something happen while we were gone?”

Steve sighed, walking towards the free weights. Bucky followed him, sitting on one of the benches while Steve picked up a couple seventy-five pound weights. He started lifting them, shaking his head.

“Nothing happened. I just … got my thoughts in order. Gained some perspective, I guess.” “Perspective.”

Steve nodded, inhaling each time he curled the weight up, exhaling when he relaxed his arm.

“What the fuck kind of perspective are you talking about, Steve?”

Steve sighed, setting the weights aside. He turned to straddle the bench he was sitting on, facing Bucky.

“I like her. I’ve liked her for a long damn time, and I ain’t done nothin’ about it.” “Why not?” “Because, as you so eloquently put it before, I’m Captain fuckin’ America.”

He shrugged.

“Everyone expects me to be so goddamn patriotic and pure all the time, and I’m just tired of it. Tony’s got Pepper. Nat’s got Clint. You’ve got … whoever’s bed you’re bouncing in this week—“ “Hey!”

Steve ignored the self-righteous exclamation, continuing to speak.

“Why can’t I have someone, too?”

Bucky was quiet, and Steve finally dragged his eyes from the ground to his best friend. Bucky was studying him, gray-blue eyes the slightest bit stormy, shaking his head.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” “Yes.” “And nothing happened while we were gone?”

Nothing you need to know about, Steve thought. He shook his head.

“No.”

Bucky nodded, leaning back.

“So you just … want a girlfriend?” “Maybe. If she’ll have me.” “Don’t punch me. Do you really want a girlfriend or do you just need to get laid?”

Steve swung before he thought, Bucky easily catching his hand.

“I said don’t punch me!”

Steve narrowed his eyes and Bucky let go of his hand.

“I’m not trying to piss you off. I’m just genuinely curious. When was the last time you … ya know.” “We’re not having this conversation.” “Oh, come on!” “Nope. Not going there.”

Steve stood up, taking the weights back to their places, shaking his head as he started for the door. Bucky jogged after him.

“Has it at least been since you came out of the ice?” “Fuck you, Barnes!”

Bucky stopped in the middle of the floor, tossing his head back laughing when the door burst open and Sam, Clint, and Tony filed in. Steve raised an eyebrow and Sam stepped forward.

“Sorry, I held ‘em off as long as I could.”

Steve furrowed his brows, looking back to Bucky. Bucky shrugged, tossing out his metal hand.

“I didn’t get very far anyway. I’m stuck at does he want a girlfriend or does he just need to get laid?”

Tony’s eyes were on fire when he looked to Steve. Steve raised an eyebrow and Clint laid a hand to Tony’s chest.

“Easy.”

Steve stared at them and Clint sighed as he turned to face him.

“Look, as much as we’re dying to know what that was all about … some of us have a few … concerns.”

Steve raised his eyebrow again and Tony shook his head as he stepped forward.

“Not her. Go get any other woman on this planet, just not her.”

Clint sighed, muttering under his breath.

“Or we can just jump right in.”

Steve shook his head.

“What's going on?”

Tony stepped even closer.

“I get it. She’s gorgeous, she’s nice, she’s fun. But she … Steve we need her around here.” “What, you think I’m going to run her off?”

Tony didn’t answer, and Steve shook his head.

“I’m not going to fuck her and never call her again, Tony. I’m not—“ “Watch what you say next.” “Not cool.” “Don’t even go there.”

Steve closed his eyes and pressed his lips together at the chorus of voices that cut him off and overlapped. Steve sighed, looking them all in the eyes.

“I’m not in this just to get a quick lay. I’m not even thinking about me here. I don’t know why you’re all jumping all over me with the need to protect her, even though she’s probably stronger than all of us put together.”

The men exchanged glances, nodding in agreement. Steve shook his head.

“I’m not going to hurt her. I promise. I won’t run her off or put her in any danger. I just …”

I love her.

He swallowed, shaking his head again. Tony nodded, taking hold of the front of Steve’s shirt.

“If you hurt her, I will shove that shield places my father never intended it to be. Got it?”

Steve’s eyes widened and he nodded, biting the inside of his cheek to keep from smiling. Tony smoothed the shirt over Steve’s chest, patting it as he turned away. Clint cleared his throat, crossing his arms over his chest, lifting his chin to look Steve in the eyes.

“Ever had an arrow shot up your ass?”

Steve’s eyebrows raised and he shook his head. Clint nodded.

“Let’s keep it that way.”

Steve couldn’t stop the smile then, and Sam stepped up and gripped his shoulder, smiling at him.

“Just take care of her, alright?”

Steve nodded, and Bucky patted his back as he followed the rest of the men from the gym. Steve closed his eyes, lifting his head and letting out a long breath.

You paced around the conference room, shaking your head at every turn. Natasha was sitting in one of the chairs, feet propped up on the table, watching you with an amused look on her face. The two of you turned at the quiet knock on the door, and Wanda poked her head in.

“Jarvis said you wanted to see me?”

Natasha nodded.

“Come on in. Have a seat.” “What is going on?” “We’re just watching Y/N have a breakdown.” “I’m not having a breakdown.”

You muttered Russian curses under your breath and Natasha snorted as she rolled her eyes. She rolled her head to look at Wanda.

“We needed more estrogen in the room.”

Wanda slowly nodded, taking a seat a few chairs down from Natasha. You finally stopped pacing and turned to Natasha.

“Sex pollen.” “No.” “I’m putting off some pheromones only super soldiers are affected by.” “If that was true, Barnes would have jumped you long before now.” “Oh, good point.”

Natasha nodded, rolling her head to look at Wanda again.

“She got kissed by the Captain in front of God and everyone.” “Captain Rogers?”

Natasha nodded and Wanda sat up straighter. You groaned, shaking your head.

“There’s no … no. There has to be a reason.” “There is.”

You looked to Natasha and she shrugged.

“But you’re clearly looking for an explanation other than he wants to jump your bones.”

Yours and Wanda’s cheeks flushed and you shook your head.

“That’s not it.” “Then what is it? Because everything you’ve thrown out so far has been bullshit and you know it.”

You ground your teeth together as Wanda sank lower in her chair, a small smile playing at her lips as she watched you. Natasha uncrossed her ankles and spoke again.

“What’s so bad about that?”

You pushed a hand through your hair and sighed. You grabbed a chair and pulled it up to the table, sitting down across from Natasha.

“Nothing. Just … he doesn’t seem like that kind of guy.” “What kind?” “A one night stander.”

Wanda hummed and both women rolled to look at her. She shrugged her shoulders.

“Captain Rogers does not strike me as a …” “One and done kind of deal?”

Wanda nodded at Natasha, who looked back at you. You shrugged.

“He does seem monogamous. Long-term relationship monogamous.” “The wife and the picket fence and the two-point-five kids.”

Natasha nodded as she began swiveling her chair back and forth as Wanda looked at her hands, speaking softly.

“Would that be so bad?”

Natasha went still, following your lead and looking to Wanda. Wanda shrugged her shoulders and met your eyes.

“You don’t think it would be … enjoyable?”

Natasha looked to you with a wide smile on her face, a smile playing at Wanda’s lips as your cheeks flushed. Natasha giggled in her chair, going back to swiveling.

“Go talk to him. See what’s up with him and if it’s something that might be up with you. Or in—“

“Nat, don’t.”

She giggled again, and you shook your head. You let out a breath, laying a hand against your fluttery stomach. Wanda cleared her throat.

“Just to clarify, you want to see what is up with him or not?”

You swallowed, then nodded.

“I do.” “Why?”

You shrugged your shoulders.

“Because. Because he’s … kind. Smart. He’s funny, and he doesn’t really try to be. He’s a deep thinker, but he’s not above fighting dirty. He’s got such a sensitive soul, but he’s so strong and have you seen his arms? Or his face? Or—“

You stopped yourself, looking from a grinning Wanda to Nat, who looked very much like the cat that ate the canary. You felt your cheeks flush again and Natasha nodded, pulling her feet off the table and standing up.

“Go talk to him. And try not to fall into bed with him until he buys you dinner first.” “Screw you, Romanoff.” “No, no. It’s Rogers you want to screw. Not Romanoff.”

She cackled when you grabbed a pen off the table and threw it at her. She caught it in one hand on her way out the door, tossing it back to the table. You caught Wanda’s eye and she smiled at you, sliding back from the table and following Natasha out the door.

TAGS: @star-spangled-man-with-a-plan, @chonkychornes, @sarcasm-myfriend, @patzammit, @beardburnsupersoldiers, @sallyp-53, @moodymcu, @angrybirdcr, @bellaireland1981, @brittanymcsharry, @free-2bmee, @laneygthememequeen, @iwritesmutsandfluff, @captain-rogers-beard, @geeksareunique, @ivoryhazlewood, @alexxcorona113, @iluvsumbucky, @readermia, @buckmecaptain, @jennmurawski13, @emmandhercoffecrisp, @geekysimmerthings, @deidrashouseofpain, @idjitmonkey, @peaceinourtime82, @fallenoutofrose, @anika-ann, @superavengerpotterstar, @nerdgirljen, @thefanficfaerie, @adaliamalfoy, @rinthehufflepuff, @fallenoutofrose

#another try series #marvel fanfiction #mcu fanfiction #marvel reader insert #steve rogers x female reader #mcu reader insert #marvel au #mcu au #steve rogers fanfiction #avengers fanfiction #avengers reader insert #mcu

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athingthatwantsvirginia · 5 years ago

Text

Lily Briscoe, Remember?

PART TWENTY-SIX OF THE DO YOU SEE HER FACE? SERIES

Pairing: Jess Mariano x Original Character (Ella Stevens)

Warnings: drinking, smoking, plentiful pop culture references

Word Count: 3.7K

Summary: After a visit to a local bar, Ella catches up with Jess and spends a night in Philadelphia.

Twirling her cool water glass around and around on the grimy table, Ella smiled softly when a Strokes song came over the speakers. The bar was some hole-in-the-wall dive a few blocks down from the publishing house, still adorned with St. Patrick’s Day decorations although it was halfway through May. But Ella didn’t mind it. There weren’t rowdy swarms of college students or bachelorette parties. Instead, people in their late twenties sat around in black, square-framed glasses talking in buzzing tones. They had locally-made beer and a small, empty stage with just a stool, where independent artists played on the weekends. The air was salty with fries and early summer excitement. Matthew made conversation with her as Chris and Jess went up to order the drinks. Leaning back against the ripped vinyl booth, Ella listened intently as Matthew, sat across from her in a creaky wooden chair, told her about he and Chris meeting in high school.

“...so, we weren’t in the AV club or anything, but we definitely weren’t on the football team either-”

Chris led the way back to the table with a tray of beers and a hoot of satisfaction, Jess trailing behind his friend and rolling his eyes.

Stopping mid-sentence, Matthew turned to Chris and swiped a drink. Chris sat down beside him and was almost instantly chattering away. Matthew seemed kind, quiet, subdued. A good balance to Chris’s chaotic enthusiasm. Jess slid into the booth beside Ella, shrugging off his suit jacket, flushed in the stuffy air. Their upper arms touched, making her stomach do a flip. Even though it had been years since he lived at Luke’s, Jess still somehow had an aroma of pine.

“So,” Chris began, turning to Ella with a pointed look and a grin, “what do you do, Ella?”

“Oh, um, I’m a waitress.”

“And an artist,” Jess chimed in, taking a sip from his bottle.

Ella rolled her eyes and then shot him a teasing glare. “Not professionally. But I just graduated from Southern Connecticut State last week. Hopefully I won’t be filling sandwich orders my whole life.”

“You graduated already, Doogie?” Jess asked with a pleasant, surprised chuckle.

She shrugged. “Wasn’t too big a deal. I took summer classes and stuff.”

“What’s your major?” Matthew asked.

“Studio art,” she said. “Minor in history, though.”

Jess raised his brows, but said nothing. Apparently she hadn’t gone through only outward changes. He could smell her lavender perfume as he sipped on his cheap, watery beer. It was odd to see her in Keeley’s, a bar he’d frequented since arriving in Philadelphia. The feeling was not quite deja-vu, but his worlds were certainly colliding. In the back of his mind, he wondered where her necklace was, wondered where she was living. It was easy to feel like he knew her, maybe better than anyone, but they hadn’t spoken in so long. She could be married, for all he knew. Scanning her thin hands, he found no engagement or wedding rings. But an uneasiness still sat right under his skin, eager to be resolved.

Crossing his arms, elbows on the table, Chris leaned closer into the conversation. “That’s so cool! Do you have anything lined up? Seems like you should, considering how many people tried to buy your sketches today.”

She scoffed, continuing to turn her glass anxiously. A blush warmed her cheeks, and a nervous smile tugged at her lips as she averted her eyes down to the table. “Sort of. Grad school is where I’m headed now.”

“Really?” Jess chimed in. “Where?”

Clearing her throat, Ella raked a hand through her hair. Though Jess tilted his head at her, she refused to meet his gaze. “It’s funny, actually. I’ve still got some things to work out...but UPenn.”

“No way! That’s right down the road from us!” Chris exclaimed.

Ella’s smile widened marginally, and excitement rose in her chest. “Yeah, it’s weird. I had a few I was choosing between, and Penn reached out and...I only confirmed a couple weeks ago. A few days before I got your invitation in the mail. Since I was coming down here anyway, I scheduled my interview with the Dean for tomorrow.”

“Well, congrats,” Matthew said, raising his bottle.

“Thanks,” she replied, feeling slightly silly as she toasted her water against their beers.

Before another moment had passed, Chris got a page on his beeper. Apparently, the poet who had performed at the open house had left something of his behind and would need to be let in early the next morning. Matthew and Chris began commiserating amongst themselves about the performer, who was apparently less than a joy to work with. Biting on the inside of her cheek, Ella tried to suppress her smile. Too much joy made her nervous. It meant always waiting for the other shoe to drop. She’d had the odd mixture of anxiety and anticipation brewing in her stomach since opening Jess’s package. It was too much of a coincidence for her to be going to a school five minutes away from where Jess worked. Too perfect. She didn’t trust it.

Beside her, Jess was trying equally hard to hold in his emotions. She would be in Philly. Right down the road. She hadn’t been right down the road from him in what felt like forever. There were still so many unknowns. But he couldn’t help the swell of his heart. What were the chances? Plastering on a smug smirk, a mask to hide his exhilaration at her news, he nudged her gently with his elbow.

“So, you’re Philly bound?”

“Seems that way,” she said, nodding.

He hummed in acknowledgement, pausing to gaze at her for a moment. Freckles and Bette Davis eyes and a deep, raspy voice. So different but so familiar. She offered him a tiny smile, caught up in the moment. A swarm of pleasant butterflies fluttered in her stomach, and again, she wished they could kiss. Inside their private world, as they once had been.

“Y’know, I think it was fate,” Jess said, smirk growing. “Us both ending up here.”

She snorted a laugh and shook her head slightly. “Not all that idealist bullshit again, Mariano.”

“Hey, not everything changes,” Jess shrugged, taking another sip.

“Guess not,” she said quietly, a fond sparkle in her hazel eyes. “But I’d expect nothing less from a Hemingway fetishist.”

Jess rolled his eyes. “Whatever, Stevie Nicks.”

Instead of retorting, Ella snatched the beer sitting before Jess and took a long sip. Setting it down in front of him again, she winked and then began to hum along to Julian Casablancas’s lyrics.

. . .

“I’m serious. I was really planning on just getting a motel,” Ella insisted.

Shushing her, a finger on his lips, Chris shook his head. He stood in the tiny kitchen, rummaging through the rusty fridge for some drunk food. Matthew was tipsy, and had already retreated to his room. Chris, however, had managed to get absolutely wasted. They’d practically dragged him up the stairs in Truncheon to the apartment above, while he babbled loudly, complaining about his boyfriend being out of town for the open house. Now, as Jess and Ella argued about her sleeping in the apartment, he offered slurred interjections and cackles off to the side.

Jess, having only drunk two beers over the course of the day, rolled his eyes at his friend. “Go to bed, man.”

“Make me, Jess,” Chris replied jovially, retrieving a box of fried chicken from behind the half-and-half. Straightening up, he shot them both a smug grin and made for the bedroom he shared with Matthew. “Have fun, kids.”

“Good luck fighting that sweater off your head,” Ella quipped, not able to stop the words before they left her mouth. Chris, for all his exuberance, was wearing deceptively stuffy clothes. A button-up with a patterned sweater over it, khakis.

Again, Chris only laughed. “She’s feisty. Let’s keep her forever.”

Smiling thinly, Ella gave him the finger. He blew her a kiss before entering the dark room and shutting the door loudly behind him. Ella winced slightly. She knew Matthew was probably already asleep in one of the room’s twin beds.

Jess ran a hand down his face, standing amid the cluttered mess of their living room.

Ella turned back to Jess, crossing her arms over her chest as an amused crease formed between her brows. “How’d you end up living with them again?”

“Long story.”

“I would imagine.”

“He’s usually not quite so intolerable, but it’s been a big day,” Jess said apologetically. “And he’s still super pissed his boyfriend had to go outta town for work.”

Ella shrugged. “Hey, no problem. I like them. But, yes, it has been a big day. And I don’t want to keep you up any longer. So, why don’t I just stay at a motel?”

Shaking his head, Jess gestured for her to follow him and led the way to his bedroom. “Yeah, right. It’s past midnight. You can just crash with me. Not like we haven’t shared a bed before.”

A heavy sigh escaped her lips. “Are you sure? At least let me take the couch. I’ve been sleeping on one for two years, anyway.”

“At Lane’s?” Jess asked, switching on the ceiling light as they entered.

Surveying the bedroom, a smile immediately came to Ella’s lips. The living room was an absolute mess, but he’d managed to keep his own room decently clean. In the small space, he had only a queen-sized bed, pushed against the wall with the windows, and a dresser, on top of which his boombox sat. Piles of books and CDs littered the scratched wood floor, mostly in the free corners. A framed poster of Nietzche hung above his bed, and she burst out laughing when she saw it, before she could help herself.

“What?” Jess asked, brows furrowed.

She pointed to the poster, then bit down on her thumb nail to stifle her giggles. “Nothing, I’m just glad you’re becoming self-aware.”

He rolled his eyes playfully. “Already overstaying your welcome, Stevens. The bathroom’s the first door on the left when you walk into the apartment. You can get changed, brush your teeth, whatever.”

Nodding, Ella slipped off her shoes near the door and put down her heavy shoulder bag. It only took a minute of rifling through before she found the pajamas and toothbrush she’d packed for the short trip. Since she was little, she couldn’t fall asleep before brushing her teeth first. Clutching the supplies in her arms, she turned back to Jess. He’d taken off his suit jacket and tossed it down on the bed, was unclasping his watch and setting it down on the dresser. He looked so grown up in the yellowish overhead light, bright against the dark green walls.

“This is really okay with you, Jess?” she asked, sounding shyer than he’d ever heard.

“Yeah,” he replied, flashing her a reassuring smile. “What kind of host would I be otherwise?”

Smiling back, Ella nodded again. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

As she left the room, Jess let out a breath he didn’t know he’d been holding in and ran a hand over his mouth. He thought back to the night she’d let him sleep over, dragged him from the freezing back seat of his old car into her warm bedroom. It was the least he could do. Truly. But anxiety squeezed his insides tightly. He tried to shake it off. Ella herself had said he didn’t need to be nervous. He changed into some sweatpants and a t-shirt quickly, running his hands through his neat hair and turning it messy. When she returned, face washed and teeth brushed, he was just flicking on his bedside lamp and pulling back the blue comforter. He recognized the Bowie t-shirt she wore from some vague memory.

“No KISS shirt?” he asked.

She chuckled as she stuffed her dress and toothbrush into her bag near the door. “Oh, I never travel with that. Couldn’t bear for it to get lost.”

“Oh, right, my mistake,” Jess said. “You can turn out that switch, if you want.”

Ella turned off the overhead light, left only in the glow of his nightstand lamp. Before the nausea could overtake her, she powered through the shakiness of her hands and came to sit across from him. It didn’t need to be strange. She’d just gotten her best friend back. And they could sleep in the same bed as they had so many times before.

“Since I’m already taking advantage of your hospitality,” she began, eyeing the half-empty pack of Marlboros on the floor by the bed, “could I maybe borrow a cigarette?”

Smirking fondly, Jess nodded, reaching down to grab the pack and the lighter. He lit hers for her as she held it between her lips, and then his own. He cracked open the window and flicked ash out into the May midnight.

“What’s got you smoking?” he asked.

She sighed through her nose in white streams. “My interview with the Dean tomorrow. I mean, I’m already in. And they contacted me because of my portfolio. But, I don’t know. Anything could happen.”

“But it won’t,” Jess said. “It’ll be fine. You’re Lily Briscoe, remember?”

A weak smile crossed her face and she gave an unconvincing nod. Then, she looked back up at him curiously. “What about you? Still smoke as much as you did in high school?”

Jess shook his head. “No. Almost never. But I may have panicked about this whole open house thing last night.”

“Looked like it went great,” she said, tapping ash out the window, sitting cross-legged.

Shrugging, Jess leaned back against the wall behind his bed. “We’ll see what that lady from the paper writes.”

“Who cares what she thinks?” Ella asked.

“People who could spend their money here,” Jess answered, chuckling breathily.

Waving a dismissive hand, Ella took a final drag of her cigarette. She crushed it out on the windowsill, where she saw the small, circular remnants of smokes past, before throwing butt out the window into the dumpster below. “Maybe. Seems like you’ve got a pretty decent underground following already.”

“And you call me the idealist,” he said, shaking his head and tossing out his own cigarette.

She laughed lightly, following Jess’s lead as he closed his window again and got under the covers. Soon, they faced each other with their heads against Jess’s pillows. They smelled like him. After shutting off his lamp, Jess regarded Ella in the dim light. He felt like he’d stepped through a door into a memory or a dream.

“Speaking of Truncheon, tell me about the book,” she said quietly.

“Which book?”

“Your book, Sherlock,” she teased.

He sighed, swallowing dryly. “What do you want to know?”

“Everything,” she replied. “I mean, when did you write it? How did you write it? Did ever end up getting a computer, or-”

“Woah, Stevens,” he interrupted, snickering at her rapid-fire questions. “I started writing it when I was still in Stars Hollow.”

She furrowed her brows. “What?”

“Yeah. That notebook I came back for when I picked up my car? I sort of...started before I left. I took a break in California. But I started taking advantage of the library computers when I got back to New York.”

“So, it really was an On The Road thing.”

“Not quite so ambitious,” he said. “But, once I read that Stephen King book you got me...I just got started.”

“And you never told me?” she asked.

He only shrugged in response.

Ella shook her head slightly, watching him with furrowed brows. “Curiouser and curiouser, Mariano.”

“I wanted to surprise you with it.”

“Well, you did.” She thought she saw a flush rise to his cheeks, but couldn’t quite tell in the low light. Something indecipherable flashed across his eyes as he hesitated. She took the lead instead. “Hey Jess?”

“Hm?”

“I’m so fucking proud of you.”

Jess rolled his eyes, really blushing now. His face went scarlet, and he uttered a nervous chuckle. “Thanks, Daria.”

“Anytime, James Dean.”

Ignoring the flip of his stomach, Jess let the compliment roll off him like water and faced her earnestly. “Did you say you were still livin’ with Lane?”

She nodded. “Yeah. It was just...easier than getting my own place. A smaller chunk of the rent to pay. Especially with how many classes I was taking, and it was right across the street from Luke’s. At some point, we upgraded to a futon, so it was a little easier to sleep.”

Jess snorted. “I’m pretty sure you could fall asleep in the middle of a tornado, get transported to Oz, then back to Kansas, and wouldn’t wake up the whole time.”

“Be that as it may,” she said pointedly, “it was pretty okay. But Lane and Zach are getting married in a couple weeks. It would be time to move out even if it wasn’t for grad school.”

“Lane and Zach?” Jess asked, brows furrowed in surprise. “What about that Dave guy?”

Ella sighed softly. “He went to California for college. Eventually, they broke up. And she was on and off with Zach and...I don’t know. He’s not the worst guy. And I know there’s no talking her out of it, anyway.”

“People are gonna do what they’re gonna do,” Jess agreed, thinking back to his own mother’s last wedding.

“I’ll miss her, though. Without Lane, I would probably still have majored in history. Ended up teaching at Stars Hollow High.”

“No way.”

“I’m not so sure. But just seeing Lane play with the band all the time...she looked so happy. Even though she had no money and her mom was pissed at her. I thought maybe actually trying to do what you love wasn’t such a crazy idea,” she explained, voice husky and tired, but so lively.

It made Jess smile. “That’s great, Eleanor.”

She shrugged again and cleared her throat, wincing slightly. “Ugh, Jesus. Smoking is never worth it. I don’t think I’ve smoked since...since the last time we saw each other. The morning after you left.”

His face fell. There it was. Finally. “I’m sorry, Elle.”

“For what?” she asked dismissively. The past was past.

“For that night. Everything. I don’t know what I was thinking.”

“It’s okay, Jess.”

“Luke gave me this stupid self-help book and I read it and we kinda went to the wedding together and I got...mixed up.”

Smiling softly, Ella shifted in her spot to move a little closer to him. “I’m gonna need more details on that self-help book later.”

He uttered a self-conscious scoff.

“But, really Jess, it’s okay. I understand. And...I just...I wasn’t ready,” she said finally, struggling for her words. “After I moved out of my dad’s house...I still needed Lane. And Lorelai. And Luke. I always thought getting away would fix everything. But...I wasn’t ready for you.”

A sad smile tugged at his lips. “I don’t think I was ready for you, either.”

Breathing deeply, Ella let the moment pass between them. Forgiveness, maybe? On both sides? She wasn’t quite sure what it was, but she knew it made her feel calmer. Maybe ripping old wounds open was worth it if it meant they would finally get the chance to heal.

“I bet you started breaking hearts when you got here though. What with the starry-eyed starving artist thing you’ve got going on,” she said. She knew it was a flimsy attempt at being sly, but she just couldn’t bring herself to ask him outright. And he was letting her sleep in his bed. That was a positive sign. But she needed to know for sure.

He chuckled slightly and shook his head. “Not really. Turns out, people don’t flock to the guy with nothing but a shitty final draft and a duffel bag to his name.” Then, after a beat of silence, sirens blaring from somewhere off in the distance of the city, he spoke again. “What about you?”

The inquisitive, almost hopeful, tone in his voice made her heart skip a beat. “Nothing extraordinary. A couple dates. Guys. Girls. Never got anything to stick.”

“Hm.” Jess paused, watching Ella watch him.

The sound of the singing crickets mixed strangely with the murmur of the city, even in the early Monday morning hours. Ella tried to remember each detail of the present moment. Lying beside Jess in Philadelphia, preparing to go to grad school, finally out from under the thumbs of her father and Stars Hollow. And in love. She decided on it finally. Nothing had changed. She loved Jess as she had for so long, even if she had never truly realized it. Maybe she had, but was too scared to admit it. She thought back to the day he took her to the Met, riding back home in his car, nothing but the dark, empty highway around them. She’d almost said it then. But she hadn’t. Even then, though, she’d been completely his. All or nothing. Do or die.

Slowly, she brought her hand out from under the covers and placed it on his cheek. She stroked his stubbly skin with her thumb. The boy who’d turned into a man all on his own, who had always been so guarded and so kind. Who gave her a bed when she was drunk and bought her charcoals on Valentine’s Day and took her to museums and wrote books for her and hung her drawings on his wall. Who she had taken to a private movie and driven to the emergency room and kissed as an Interpol song played and brought in from the cold. The give and take which had always been there, making her feel safe. Easy. Home.

Taking a moment to close his eyes, Jess quieted all the thoughts screaming in his head.

“I missed you,” she whispered.

“I missed you too,” he replied, too overwhelmed to say much of anything else. He remembered the night on the bridge when they’d decided to try together. How the nerves had made his stomach churn. But she’d taken his hand in hers. She’d made the first move. And made his whole being feel calm. She had cared for him when he couldn’t care for himself. It made him feel like a teenager again. Her touch. Her voice. Her mind.

He wound his arm around her waist and brought her closer, hugging her tightly. They were silent and comfortable. Eventually, Ella’s breathing deepened and Jess felt her muscles relax, holding her. Outside, he could see the full moon reflecting light against a clear night sky. And he felt so content he could barely shut his eyes for a second, fearful of missing anything.

#jess mariano fanfiction #jess mariano oc #jess mariano imagines #jess mariano imagine #jess mariano #jess #mariano #gilmore girls fanfiction #gilmore girls oc #jess mariano au #gilmore girls au #gilmore girls imagines #gilmore girls imagine #gilmore #jess mariano x original character #jess mariano x oc #original character #original character stories

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jaxl-road · 6 years ago

Text

Better Watch Out

Motley Crue and Guns N Roses have a Secret Santa gift exchange. What could go wrong?

Pairings: Nikki/Tommy, Slash/Axl, Duff/Izzy

This beast is over 10,000 words long, just fyi -_-;

(Also on AO3)

~~~~~~~

“WHY are there so many people in our tiny ass apartment?” Nikki groaned, running a hand through his hair.

Axl scoffed, “You guys hold ragers in your ‘tiny ass apartment’ practically every night.”

“Yeah, but I’m usually wasted when that happens. Right now I’m sober.”

“That’s your own fault,” Duff smirked, taking a long sip from his water bottle that everyone was suddenly positive was not filled with water.

Nikki sighed as Tommy skipped over and patted him on the shoulder. Their dilapidated living room was packed full with the members of Motley Crue and Guns N’ Roses. It was late morning, which in Nikki’s opinion was way too early to be dealing with this many rockers in his apartment. Mick and Slash were sitting on the couch, the former looking annoyed and the latter looking calm and content (or in other words, high). Vince sat next to them on the back of the couch, glaring childishly at Axl who was sprawled across the armchair and looking far too at home in the blonde’s opinion. Izzy leaned against the back of the armchair, smirking in the direction of where Duff was standing, the bassist now casually holding his water bottle above his head while Steven tried in vain to snag it. Finally, still standing at the start of the hallway, Tommy threw an arm around Nikki’s shoulder to keep the dark haired man from returning to bed.

“Come on, Nikki, don’t be grumpy!”

“Have you met Nikki?”

“This is gonna be fun!” Tommy grinned, ignoring Slash’s comment, even as Nikki flipped the guitarist off. “Steven had the best idea, so I invited them all over!”

“Ah fuck, the drummers are responsible for this?” Mick leaned his head back dramatically to stare at the ceiling, “This is going to be more annoying than I thought.”

Steven laughed, moving to stand by Tommy and Nikki, “If by ‘annoying’, you mean FUN!”

“I do not.”

“Anyway,” Steven clapped his hands, “We’re gonna do a Secret Santa!”

There was a long pause as all eyes stared at the blonde drummer and processed his words.

Then they all started talking at once.

“What?” Nikki exclaimed.

“Oh Hell no,” Mick muttered.

“Oh Hell YES!” Slash countered.

“Presents? Presents!” Vince’s eyes lit up, “Gimme pretty things! Whoever gets me I have a list for you!”

“This is going to blow up spectacularly, and honestly I’m down for it,” Duff shrugged.

Izzy sighed and leaned his head on his hand, “See I’m torn. I want to watch the chaos, but I don’t want to be involved in the chaos. Dilemmas, dilemmas.”

Axl leaned back, letting his head hang over the arm of his seat. Narrowing his eyes, he pointed at Steven, “I will agree on ONE CONDITION.”

The attention of the room shifted to the red-head. Steven cocked his head curiously, “What?”

“We do this game on hard-mode.”

“I’m going to regret asking,” Mick sighed, “but what’s hard-mode?”

Crossing his arms, Axl answered firmly, “No giving drugs or alcohol as a gift.”

Immediately, there was a riot.

“Oh COME ON!”

“But I WANT drugs and alcohol!”

“These fuckers’ entire personality is based around drugs and alcohol, what the fuck else am I supposed to get them?”

“If I don’t get Vodka, Christmas is cancelled.”

“You can’t just-”

“Izzy, take Christmas away from Axl!”

“It’s cute you think I have any power over him.”

“Hey! HEY!” Tommy shouted, finally getting everyone’s attention and putting a stop to the bickering. “Look, I love drugs as much as the rest of you, but I have to admit, I think it’s a good idea,” he rolled his eyes when several people groaned in response, “It makes it more of a challenge!”

It took a bit of convincing, but eventually the group reluctantly conceded, Axl smirking victoriously. With the rockers appeased, Steven pulled a top hat out of seemingly nowhere.

Slash sat up straight and glared, “Hey! I’ve been looking for that!”

Ignoring him, Steven tossed about the small pieces of paper inside the hat, “Okay, we’ve got everyone’s names written down, so take one and pass it. And no peeking!” As the names got passed around, Steven continued, “So, I don’t think we need a price limit, cause we’re all pretty broke.”

“We know, but hey!” Vince muttered as he took the hat.

“How about we meet up for the exchange one week from today?”

“At your place, next time,” Nikki huffed.

Axl shrugged, “Whatever, fair enough.”

“Cool,” Nikki nodded, “Now get the fuck out of our apartment.”

~~~~~~~

Izzy would be the first to admit that he hadn’t been on board with the whole Secret Santa thing at first. He didn’t dislike Christmas or anything, but he wasn’t a hugely festive person either. So the idea of partaking in a theoretically light-hearted game with a group of hardrockers didn’t exactly appeal to him.

That is, until Duff came home the next day with an armful of Christmas lights.

“Woah,” Slash chuckled as the bassist walked past with strings of lights trailing behind him, “what, did you rob Whoville or something?”

Grinning, Duff opened his arms to let the mass of lights fall onto the ground in the middle of the living room, “I will neither confirm nor deny where I got these.”

“Fuck yeah, I didn’t think we were gonna decorate the place!” Steven smiled excitedly.

Shrugging, Duff looked away, a touch of embarrassment on his face, only noticeable if you were looking (and Izzy was always looking), “I dunno, I wasn’t planning to at first. I never really got into the holidays, even when I was younger. But since we’re doing the Secret Santa thing with the Crue, I figured, why not?”

He smiled so shyly, and Izzy’s heart fluttered.

That was when he realized that he’d been handed the perfect opportunity. Izzy had been crushing on the tall blonde for awhile now, much to Axl’s amusement and Izzy’s torment. But he’d be the first to admit that he wasn’t the best at expressing his feelings, and everytime he had Duff’s full attention he forgot every word he had ever practiced in front of the mirror and ended up chickening out and running away to get high (he’d also tried getting high first, but the results were the same).

So maybe, giving Duff a gift was the perfect way to try to confess his feelings; a way to help take some of the pressure off his words.

And watching Steven and Slash wrap the lights around Duff, seeing him twirl and laugh when they plugged them in, looking at the way the lights reflected in his eyes and illuminated his smile, Izzy knew he was going to need all the help he could get.

~~~~~

If Nikki was going to participate in this Secret Santa bullshit (and not even get any coke out of it) then he was going to fucking give a gift to Tommy and no one else. He had already been trying to psych himself up to do some sort of romantic holiday shit, but the game with the two bands provided a perfect opportunity. The only thing standing in his way was the name scrawled on the scrap of paper in his hand.

Izzy

Leaning heavily on the kitchen table, Nikki steeled himself for the trip he was about to make. It wasn’t like he could judge Guns N’ Roses for their living situation, given the squalor Motley Crue currently called a home, but it always felt weird seeing them by himself. He didn’t like being outnumbered.

But from what he could tell, neither Vince nor Mick had Tommy’s name (if they did, they’d be teasing him incessantly)(he still didn’t understand how his feelings managed to be so blatant to Vince and Mick while still going right over Tommy’s head). So that meant someone in the other band had his drummer’s name, and he was going to get it if it was the last thing he did.

~~~~~

It was weird for anyone to knock on their door when the sun was still out, Slash thought as he cautiously made his way to the entrance. Cracking the door open, wondering if any of the idiots he lived with had done anything worth a house visit from the cops lately, he was instead met with the wild black hair and smudged eyeliner of none other than the very person he was tasked with finding a gift for.

“Oh,” the guitarist blinked in surprise, opening the door wider, “What’s up Sixx? Wasn’t expecting you.”

“No one ever expects me. My presence is either surprising or disappointing, but never anticipated.”

Rolling his eyes, Slash moved aside to let the other man inside, “Yeah, yeah, whatever you drama queen.”

“I don’t think you can call me a drama queen in good faith when you live with fucking Axl.”

“You got me there,” he chuckled, “But seriously, what brings you to our humble Hell House?”

Sighing heavily, Nikki cut straight to the chase, “Did you get Tommy’s name for the Secret Santa?”

Slash raised an eyebrow, “I thought this thing was supposed to be, you know… secret?”

“Oh fuck off,” Nikki huffed, “No one in Crue has it, which means someone here does, and I fucking want it.”

“Why?”

“…Cause.”

“Ooooooh,” a slow grin spread on the guitarist’s face, “I get it.”

“Don’t-”

“You’ve got a cru~ush~” he sang teasingly.

“Shut up!” Nikki shoved him lightly, his cheeks reddening as he scowled.

Slash laughed, “Okay, okay, jeez! To be honest I assumed you guys were already a thing. Like, sometimes I can’t tell where one of you ends and the other begins. It’s super gross.” He gave an exaggerated shudder.

“Oh please, you and Axl are always fucking hanging off each other.”

Sputtering, Slash gaped, “We do not!”

Blinking, Nikki raised his eyebrows in surprise, “Holy shit. Don’t tell me you two aren’t actually a couple.”

“Keep your voice down, he’s in the other room!”

“Holy shit! And you were fucking with me about Tommy!”

“Shhhhhh!” Slash covered the bassist mouth with his hands, “Okay, alright, we’re both lovesick idiots. I’ll tell you who has Tommy’s name and then we can both never speak of this again, deal?”

Smirking, Nikki pushed his hands away, “Deal.”

Nodding, Slash crossed his arms, “I heard Axl complaining about having to shop for ‘fucking sunshine drummers’.”

“Let’s be real, that could mean Tommy or Steven,” Nikki pointed out.

Slash shrugged, “If it had been Steven he wouldn’t have kept his voice down.”

“You know what? That’s fair.” Nodding decisively, he turned to walk into the next room, “Thanks man.”

“Yeah, yeah…”

Turning the corner, Nikki found himself in a small, dingy kitchen, empty save for the red-headed singer sitting on the counter. He was kicking his legs back and forth, a mug in one hand and a book in his lap. He looked so peaceful and innocent, but Nikki knew better than to let his guard down around the little terror.

Point made when the singer’s head snapped up as he entered, “What the fuck are you doing here?”

“Good to see you too, Rose.”

Axl’s only response was to quirk an eyebrow, so Nikki sighed, “Look, I need a favor.”

That made Axl’s eyes light up in interest, “Oh?”

Yeah, Nikki was gonna be fucked. Asking Axl for a favor was like making a deal with the devil. But, well, desperate fucking times and all. “Yeah,” he glanced away, “I heard you got Tommy’s name for the Secret Santa. Is that true?”

“Maybe,” Axl drawled, placing his mug and book to the side so he could lean forward and give Nikki his full attention, “What of it?”

“I want to trade.”

“Hm,” the singer considered for a minute. Finally he jerked his head at the bassist, “Whose name did you get?”

“Izzy,” he replied, “He’s like, your best friend, right? So it’s perfect.”

Axl snorted, “I don’t like him that much.” He tilted his head side to side as he thought. Nikki held his breath, hoping to God that this could just be simple. But when Axl grinned slowly at him, he knew that he’d have no such luck.

“I’ll tell you what,” he offered, “I’ll give you Tommy, if you get me Slash.”

For a long minute, Nikki could only blink. Finally, he deadpanned, “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.” If he wasn’t certain that one or both of them would murder him on the spot, he’d just drag Slash in here right now and tell them to bang or whatever. But he was, in fact, certain that one or both of them would murder him on the spot. So.

“That’s my offer, take it or leave it,” Axl shrugged.

Goddamn pining idiots. “Ugh, fine!” Nikki threw his arms up in exasperation. He was pretty sure he knew who had Slash’s name, but it was going to be annoying as fuck.

Axl snickered as he stomped out of the house, shoving past Steven without a word. “What was that about?” The drummer questioned.

“Oh, you know,” Axl grinned, “just the holidays, bringing people together.”

~~~~~~

Izzy sighed from his spot outside the liquor store, pulling his jacket tighter around his body as he took a long drag from his cigarette. The slip of paper with Mick written on it weighed heavy in his pocket. He’d been eavesdropping on his bandmates, and as far as he could tell none of them had Duff’s name. The idea of trekking over to Motley Crue and asking one of them to trade made him wince.

Speak of the devil though. As he ground his cigarette under his heel, he saw a tall, curly haired drummer make his way over.

“Oh! Hey Izzy!” Tommy grinned, “Fancy meeting you here!”

“Yeah,” Izzy shrugged, “Just grabbing a couple things. Too lazy to go all the way to the market.”

“I know that feeling,” Tommy laughed.

Eyeing him carefully, Izzy tried to keep his voice casual as he asked impulsively, “So, how’s the Secret Santa shopping going?”

To his surprise, Tommy’s face fell a little, “Oh, it’s fine. I don’t really know what to get them though,” he rubbed the back of his neck and mumbled to himself, “I was kind of hoping to get a different bassist…”

No fucking way.

Izzy gaped for a moment. What were the odds? He never got this lucky! “You got Duff?” He blurted out.

“Ah, fuck, it’s supposed to be a secret,” Tommy floundered.

“No, no, it’s cool!” Izzy was quick to calm him, “You want Nikki’s name, right?”

“Yeah,” the drummer admitted. Then he lit up, “Do you have his name?”

“Well, no…” Izzy confessed, “But, I was hoping to get Duff. So maybe we could…?” He trailed off, looking at the taller man expectantly.

Looking at the drummer though you’d think Izzy just kicked his puppy, “I really want Nikki though. He like, never celebrated Christmas, and sometimes the holidays make him sad, and I don’t want him to be sad, so I just want to get him something special, y’know?”

Yes. Izzy did know, because he was in a very similar situation. Sighing, he pinched the bridge of his nose, “Right. Okay. If I can get Nikki’s name though, you’ll trade with me?”

Perking back up, Tommy nodded enthusiastically, “Absolutely, dude!”

Nodding firmly in response, Izzy agreed, “Alright. It’s a deal.”

~~~~~~~~

“Please?”

“No.”

“Please?”

“No!”

“Pleeeeeeease?”

“Jesus fucking Christ,” Mick slammed his magazine down, glaring at the bassist across from him, “Why the fuck do you want to trade so bad?”

“Because,” Nikki whined, “Why do you even care? You’re probably just going to get something generic no matter whose name you get.”

“It’s the principle of the matter,” Mick insisted.

“Come on, do you really want to deal with me annoying you over something that you couldn’t care less about? For that matter, do you really want me to bug you with all the bullshit details of why I need Slash’s name?”

“Fuck,” the guitarist muttered, even as he moved to rummage through his pockets, “I’ve been spending too much time around you crazy fuckers, ‘cause you’re starting to make sense.” He slapped the paper down, snatching the one Nikki offered in exchange, “You still owe me though.”

“Yeah, yeah, I’ll find some way to make it up to you,” Nikki grinned, jumping from his seat and running for the door, “Thanks, man!”

“Fuck you.”

~~~~~~~~

The club was packed, bodies pressing together and jumping to the beat of the loud, angry music. Slash sat at the bar with Duff and Axl, Steven and Izzy running late. Guns N Roses didn’t see Motley Crue perform too often, but apparently Nikki needed to meet up with Axl because of their Secret Santa bullshit, and the others tagged along out of habit. Slash figured it might give him some inspiration for what to get the bassist, anyway. The petty part of him wanted to tell him that directing him to Tommy’s name was his gift, but that felt cheap even for him.

But what the fuck did Nikki Sixx want, other than drugs and to fuck his drummer?

The crowd cheered loudly as the four rockers finished their set, making their way off stage as the next band began to set up. Axl chugged the rest of his drink, nodding at the others as he made his way towards the stage, presumably to meet up with Nikki. He and Duff chatted for a bit until the bassist was distracted by the bartender blatantly flirting. Slash rolled his eyes. He knew without a doubt that the tall blonde only had eyes for one person, but he was also the king of playing it up to get free drinks and, well, no one could fault him for that.

“Hey Slash!”

Turning at the sound of his name, he grinned as Tommy and Vince stumbled over to him, “Hey guys! Great show!”

“Thanks!”

“Hang on, I think I see a challenge,” Vince grinned deviously, abandoning Tommy and Slash in favor of competing with Duff for the bartender’s attention.

Slash snorted, shaking his head in amusement, “That’s not going to end well.”

Tommy laughed, swaying from alcohol or coke or both as he leaned against the bar and pushed sweaty curls out of his face, “Vince will be fine. If this doesn’t work out he’ll find another chick and be right as rain,” he waved his hand dismissively.

“Yeah, and I don’t think Duff will be heartbroken either.”

Sighing heavily, Tommy nodded, “Yeah, Duff’s a cool guy.” Biting his lip, he glanced away almost guiltily, “I feel bad for trying to trade his name away for the Santa thing…”

Slash blinked in surprise, “You got Duff?”

“Oh, Goddamn it!” Tommy exclaimed, “I am so bad at this fucking secret thing…”

Laughing, Slash patted his shoulder consolingly, “Hey man, it’s no biggie. Whose name are you trying to get, anyway?” He had a feeling he already knew.

Sure enough, Tommy sighed dreamily, “Nikki. He’s so great, y’know? And I just want to give him something special and nice so he knows I…. y’know,” he waved his hand vaguely.

Snorting, Slash reached into his pocket, “Oh, I know,” holding a hand out, Slash took pity on the kid. What could he say? The Terror Twins were fucking adorable. No matter how much he teased Nikki, he honestly didn’t mind helping them along.

Tommy blinked in confusion as he took Slash’s offering. When he saw what it was, his whole face lit up, smiling so wide it was practically blinding, “Dude! Seriously?!”

“Yup,” He motioned with his hand, and Tommy scrambled to give him his own paper, “Tidings of joy or whatever bullshit. Go get ‘em, tiger.”

“Seriously, dude, you’re the best!” Tommy wrapped the guitarist in a bone crushing hug, nearly knocking the wind out of him.

“Yeah, it’s cool, really, please, I can’t breath.”

~~~~~~~~~~

Izzy and Steven made it to the club during Motley Crue’s last song. Izzy had stopped by the house to change after working, finding Steven asleep on the couch. After shaking him awake (the drummer had completely forgotten about the group’s evening plans) they both made their way to the venue.

Despite snooping around, Izzy could not figure out who had Nikki’s name. He was starting to think someone from Crue must have it, or worse, Duff, which would make for an awkward affair if the blonde wanted to know why he wanted to trade. So he made up his mind to just grovel to the best of his ability and get Tommy to trade with him anyway.

The crowds, mixed with the loud music and the flashing lights made it hard to find anyone. Izzy and Steven eventually got separated, and he ran into Vince, who was too busy cozying up to a busty brunette to pay him much mind. For the first hour or so, he drifted around the floor, listening to the current band, occasionally snagging freebies from the rare fans who recognized him. Tired, and assuming that the Crue had already made their way back to their apartment for an afterparty, he made his way to the bar. As soon as he arrived, he flagged down the bartender and took two shots in quick succession, impatient to get a pleasant buzz going.

Looking across the bar, he finally found familiar faces. Duff was obviously well on his way to wasted, laughing at something with Axl, Slash, and Steven. Quickly slipping over to them, his bandmates greeted him enthusiastically.

“Izzy! We were wondering where you disappeared to!” Steven exclaimed.

“We missed you, buddy!” Duff grinned and slung an arm around Izzy’s waist and okay, screw Tommy, he wasn’t moving from this spot for the rest of the night. He pointedly ignored Axl’s knowing look and the conversation picked back up, the five friends laughing cheerfully and Duff’s hand warm on his hip.

He’d deal with the Secret Santa thing tomorrow.

~~~~~~~~~~

This was not supposed to be this hard.

Nikki had been wracking his brains on what to get Tommy. It needed to be something heartfelt, something Tommy would understand was supposed to be special, but still simple enough that he could give it to the drummer in front of the two bands. Ultimately, he decided that something homemade would be perfect- Tommy would lose his shit over Nikki putting actual time and effort into his gift.

That was how Nikki found himself in Motley Crue’s kitchen at 10am trying- and seriously, emphasis on trying- to bake cookies.

He had a limited window where he had the apartment to himself, and immediately took advantage of it. Baking supplies had been hidden in his room for the last day to keep the others from giving him shit or finding out his plan. The bag of chocolate chips had a recipe on the back, and Nikki could fucking read, so he figured it’d be easy.

The problem started when he realized that while he had purchased ingredients, he had forgotten to consider that their apartment was almost completely devoid of actual baking equipment. The biggest ‘bowl’ they had was an old metal pot, and he was forced to stir with a soup spoon.

Measuring was also tricky, since he hadn’t even thought about picking up measuring cups or anything. But hey, how hard could it be to eyeball it? They had cups, he could fill it halfway just fine.

Judging by the smoke coming out of the oven, it was not fine at all.

Sighing in frustration, Nikki scraped the paper thin and charred pastries into the sink. He had his fingers crossed for the next batch, saying a quick prayer to whoever was listening as he scooped them sloppily and slid them into the oven, not bothering to wait for the single sheet pan they owned to cool down.

He was standing impatiently in the middle of the kitchen when someone pounded on the door. Furrowing his brows, he didn’t know who to expect. People usually only knocked if they were there about a noise complaint, but the apartment was currently silent.

Opening the door, he was faced with a tired and hungover looking Izzy Stradlin.

The bassist had barely opened his mouth before Izzy was cutting him off, “I just need to talk to Tommy real quick.”

Raising an eyebrow, Nikki crossed his arms, “Why?”

“Because,” he ran a hand over his face, “Look, can I just-” he stopped suddenly, finally taking in the man in front of him, “Why the fuck are you covered in cocaine?”

Blinking in confusion, Nikki looked down at himself before sighing at the sight of his flour covered shirt, “It’s not cocaine. You know I’d never waste coke like this,” he gestured at himself.

“Then what-” Izzy paused again, this time his eyes widening as he glanced over Nikki’s shoulder, “-the FUCK is going on in your kitchen?!”

Spinning around, Nikki cursed loudly at the sight of black smoke wafting from the other room. Sprinting to the oven, he threw the door open, coughing when a wave of smoke billowed out. He snatched a dish towel and recklessly grabbed the tray of cookies, throwing the whole thing into the sink. Izzy, who had run up behind him, quickly reached over and flipped the faucet on, steam mixing with the smoke until the entire kitchen was in a haze.

Both rockers coughed and sputtered, waving their hands around their faces. “What the actual fuck, dude!” Izzy cried incredulously, “Were you cooking meth or something?”

Groaning, Nikki dropped his head onto the counter roughly, letting his hair hide the tears of frustration that threatened to well over, “I fucking wish.”

Glancing around the disaster zone of the kitchen, Izzy slowly pieced together what had happened, “Were you… baking?”

“Well I was trying!” Nikki shouted, tugging at his hair and still face down on the counter, “But I’m such a fuckup I can’t even do something as simple as make a fucking batch of fucking cookies without it literally going up in fucking flames!”

Okay, so Izzy definitely had not anticipated this when he came over. Hesitantly, he reached out to pat Nikki awkwardly on the back, “Um. There, there?” He glanced around helplessly, “Where the fuck is the rest of your band, maybe one of them could help with…”

“They’re not here right now,” Nikki finally straightened up, looking utterly miserable, “Vince is shacking up with whatever girl of the week he’s got, Mick is dealing with his ex, and Tommy’s at work.”

Izzy took a deep breath through his nose, trying to resist tearing his hair out, “Right. Okay, I’ll… make you a deal,” he grit out. How many fucking deals was he going to have to make this week?

“What?” Nikki mumbled.

“I’ll help you salvage your baking project if you tell me where Tommy works so I can fucking talk to him.”

“Really?” the bassist looked at him wide eyed and hopeful, “You’ll help? And not fucking tell anyone?” he tacked on with a glare.

“Yes, yes, whatever, let’s just do this so I can get out of here,” he looked around, “Where are your measuring cups?”

“Um…”

Izzy pinched the bridge of his nose. Lord have mercy.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Steven hummed to himself from his spot laying on the couch in their living room. In his pocket was a scrap of paper with Axl scrawled on it. The drummer wanted so badly to get him something good- the singer was his best friend! Well, okay so maybe he considered all the members of Guns N’ Roses his best friend. And okay, maybe there was room for him and Axl to be better friends, but that was why this Secret Santa gift was important! It was a chance for Steven to build their relationship a little more. The problem was, he had no idea what Axl would want. He’d been wracking his brain all morning, but nothing felt right.

At that moment, laughter rang out from the kitchen, light and carefree, “Hey! Get your own!” Steven could hear the smile in Axl’s voice.

Hopping to his feet, he peeked around the corner into the kitchen. Axl was indeed smiling, no matter how hard he tried to look annoyed. Slash was grinning widely as he held a mug of coffee just out of the red-head’s reach, “Sharing is caring, Sweetheart!”

Axl was pressed against the guitarist’s back, his chin resting on Slash’s shoulder as he stretched his arms out to try to reach the mug Slash held in front of him. When Slash finally broke away, rushing to take two large gulps of the coffee, Axl gasped in exaggerated offense, “You asshole! It’s not sharing if you don’t leave any for me!”

Slash laughed, “I’ll give you more of the next mug.”

“Oh no, you wanted my cup? Fine,” the singer rushed to the coffee maker, grabbing the entire pot and holding it to his chest, “But THIS is mine!”

“What! No way! I can’t survive on one cup of coffee!”

“Serves you right!” Axl ran out of the kitchen, shouting between childlike laughs as Slash chased after him, complaining loudly even as his face showed nothing but joy. Listening to the two musicians as their voices rang through the house, Steven was struck by inspiration, a grin spreading slowly across his face.

He knew what to get Axl for Christmas.

~~~~~~~~~~~

Tommy sighed as another stack of plates was placed next to him, grabbing the first one to start scraping off excess food. God, he couldn’t wait until Motley Crue started making enough that they could all quit their shitty jobs. Washing dishes all day wasn’t that bad, but it wasn’t how he wanted to spend his day, either. He tossed his head back, trying to get a strand of hair that had come loose from his ponytail out of his face, when he heard some sort of commotion out in the restaurant.

He didn’t think much of it at first, shitty customers weren’t that uncommon. But then the voices started getting closer.

“Sir, you cannot go back there-”

“I’ll just be a minute.”

“Sir, I’m going to have to ask you to leave-”

“Yeah, yeah, in a minute.”

The voices were right outside the door, and just as Tommy turned, Izzy Stradlin burst in, followed closely by one of the managers. The guitarist looked frazzled, his hair a wild mess, dark circles under his eyes, and what looked like some sort of batter smeared on his shirt.

“Tommy! Fucking finally,” Izzy muttered, steadfastly ignoring the manager that was still trying to talk to him.

“Izzy? What the Hell are you-”

“Look, I have no idea who has Nikki’s name. Can you please just switch with me? I’ll owe you one or whatever, just do this one favor for me.”

Blinking slowly, it took Tommy a moment to figure out what Izzy was talking about. When he finally caught up, he winced, “Oooooh fuck.” Izzy stared at him, the manager still standing to the side just watching. “Um,” Tommy shuffled awkwardly, “I actually….”

“What?”

Gulping nervously, Tommy finally spit it out, “I don’t have Duff’s name anymore.“

Silence stretched for a long minute, Izzy staring blankly while Tommy’s manager looked back and forth between them in confusion. Finally, Izzy slowly stalked forward and Tommy was pretty sure he was about to get murdered.

Izzy stopped just inches away from him, “Who does?”

~~~~~~~~~~

“Slash, I need you to make out with Axl.”

Sputtering, Slash practically spit out his water in surprise and dismay, “What? Why??”

Taking a deep breath, Steven explained, “Okay, so I got Axl for the Secret Santa, right?” Slash opened his mouth, but Steven barreled on before he could speak, “And I want to get him something good, cause I love the dude. And I couldn’t figure out what to get him, cause like, what does Axl even want? But then I realized, he wants you!” Grinning widely, Steven didn’t even register the deep shade of red blooming across Slash’s face, “I’m pretty sure he wants you more than anything. So for his gift I figured I’d get you to kiss him! So will you do it? Please?”

Swallowing thickly, Slash brought one hand up, pushing his hair to try to hide his flaming face, “I- Um- …Hang on, I need to process this.”

Thankfully, Steven was happy to stand patiently while Slash’s brain rebooted. Logically, the guitarist knew on some level that his feelings for the red-head were mutual. At least, he hoped. After all, who’s to say their flirtation wasn’t just a friendly joke to Axl? He’d always been too anxious about being rejected to make any sort of blatant move; to do anything that didn’t have some element of plausible deniability.

But… Nikki had thought that they were already a couple. And now Steven was saying Axl wanted him. And, well…

That had to mean something, right?

Inhaling deeply, Slash finally met Steven’s gaze, “Okay. So. I see what you’re saying. But our Secret Santa gifts are going to be exchanged in front of a group, and do you really think Axl would appreciate me kissing him in front of an audience?” Just saying it had Slash’s blush reigniting.

Steven’s face fell, “Oh, I hadn’t thought of that.”

“Yeah. But… why don’t we trade names? And I’ll, uh, kiss Axl after the gift exchanged,” Jesus Christ he felt like a middle schooler. Fucking Axl messing with his fucking emotions.

The drummer hummed in consideration, “… You’ll tell him I helped though? Because I still want you making out with him to be my gift to him.”

“Fucking Hell, yes I’ll let you take credit if everything works out, so just stop talking and give me his damn name!”

Laughing, Steven swapped paper with the guitarist, “My work here is done.”

~~~~~~~~~

Axl glared at nothing as he stalked down the street. He was a fucking idiot. Why had he gone to the trouble of getting Slash’s name for the Secret Santa when he didn’t even know what the fuck to get him? He knew the type of shit the guitarist liked, and so in theory getting him a gift shouldn’t be that hard. But he wanted to give the other man a gift that would say something. Something that would maybe help… push things forward.

Unless Slash didn’t actually like Axl that way. In which case Axl needed to be able to laugh and say he was overthinking it. Plausible deniability and all.

Sighing, he wandered into another shop. This one seemed mostly full of novelties and souvenirs for tourists. He drifted aimlessly, kicking himself for getting into this situation and debating about just trading Slash’s name away to someone. But just as he was turning to leave the store, eyes burning with hopelessness, something caught his eye.

Picking up the item, he considered it carefully. It wasn’t some intimate symbol or heartfelt offering, but that almost made it better. Just something simple that would make Slash laugh and maybe hint at something more. Smiling, he swallowed back the lingering nervousness long enough to place the item on the counter to buy it.

~~~~~~~~~~

Slash kneeled on the floor, rifling through the single drawer of the coffee table in the living room. He was pretty sure he’d seen a spool of thread in there at one point…

There was a bundle of fabric shoved under the guitarist’s mattress in his room which had been there for almost two months now. The pattern had jumped out at him when he had passed a small stand where an older woman had been selling various crafts and knick-knacks on the street. At the time, he’d had no idea what to do with it, even as he shoved some crumpled bills into the woman’s hands and snatched the fabric. But he knew that he would kick himself later if he didn’t get it.

Months later and sure enough, he was so glad he had. He only needed to do a little bit of simple stitching for what he had in mind, nothing he hadn’t helped his mom with a million times. Now if he could just find that thread…

Suddenly, the front door slammed open. Jumping in surprise, Slash turned to see a frazzled looking Izzy. He barely had a chance to even process what was happening before the other man was stalking towards him, his teeth clenched as he practically collapsed onto his knees next to him.

“Slash,” he ground out, “I know Tommy traded you Duff’s name and I need you to give it to me so I can buy that giraffe bastard a fucking Christmas gift, okay?”

Oh boy. “Um…” Slash would love to tease his bandmate for his crush, but the situation felt a bit… volatile. Gulping nervously as he looked into Izzy’s hard eyes, he admitted, “I actually don’t have Duff’s name. I traded it for-”

“WhAT?!”

In the blink of an eye, Izzy was standing, hands fisted in the front of Slash’s shirt. Slash squeaked in surprise as he was dragged off the floor until their faces were inches apart. “What do you mean you traded it??” Izzy shouted.

“Holy shit, man,” Slash stared wide-eyed at his band mate, stumbling to steady himself and gripping Izzy’s wrists uselessly, “I-”

“Who the FUCK did you trade it to?” Izzy actually shook him, his eyes manic as he tried to shake the information out of the other man, “Who has Duff’s name now??”

“Steven! I traded with Steven! Fuck!”

“What’s going on? I heard my name?”

The drummer didn’t know what to expect, especially after walking in on what looked like Izzy threatening Slash. But before he could process what was happening, Izzy’s eyes snapped to look at him. Steven felt like a deer in the headlights, and in mere seconds Izzy had opened his hands, letting Slash drop unceremoniously to the ground with a ‘thud’ and an ‘oof!’, before full on sprinting and tackling Steven to the floor.

Shrieking, the two musicians tumbled to the ground, Izzy grabbing Steven’s shirt as he pinned him down, “Steven I swear to fuck if you tell me you traded Duff’s name-”

“No, no, I have it! I have it!” Steven blurted out in a panic, scrambling to pull the paper from his pocket.

Snatching the name from his hand, Izzy released him, standing shakily as he looked down at paper, “Fucking finally,” he muttered to himself. He reached into his own pocket and carelessly let it drift down onto Steven’s chest before walking away, slamming the door to his bedroom behind him.

Steven and Slash stood shakily, eyeing the closed door warily.

“What… the fuck?” Steven breathed, turning wide eyes to Slash, who only threw his hands up defensively.

“Fuck dude, I have no fucking clue. This Secret Santa thing is driving everyone crazy.”

“Ah man, am I gonna be the only one with no one to make out with after this thing?” the drummer pouted, leaning down to pick up his new name assignment from where it had fallen onto the floor, “I mean, I guess I wouldn’t mind kissing Mick.”

Slash snorted, shaking his head in amusement. He froze when he noticed Steven seriously considering the paper in his hand, “Stevie, no. Do NOT kiss Mick. We all love the dude, but we wouldn’t find your body after.”

Rolling his eyes, Steven laughed, “Haha, Dude, I’m just kidding,” he glanced back down at the name, “…unless?”

“Steven NO!”

~~~~~~~

Opening the door quietly, Tommy glanced around the apartment. Seeing that the coast was clear, he quickly entered, cradling his gift carefully in his hand. The door to Nikki’s room was closed, music blasting from within, so Tommy was able to sneak past easily and slip into his own room.

He hoped that Nikki understood his gift. The bassist tried to shrug it off, scoffing whenever the subject came up, but Tommy could tell the holidays were hard for him. It hurt Tommy’s heart to see the other man struggle, and he wouldn’t even really talk about it. The most the drummer got was some drunken muttering on the nights Nikki got really fucked up, but never enough for him to really get it off his chest and feel better, so he always awoke the next morning just as melancholy and frustrated and distant.

Sighing, Tommy placed his gift gently on the table next to his bed. Maybe it was far fetched, but he loved Nikki. He just hoped his present would communicate that.

~~~~~~~

Izzy was collapsed face down on his mattress, the same spot he’d been in for the last hour. When this week had started, he had not anticipated having to go through so much trouble to get his crush’s name. But it would all be worth it when he gave him his gift and-

His eyes snapped open.

Oh fuck.

He hadn’t gotten Duff a fucking gift yet.

~~~~~~~~

Sighing in relief, Duff finally made it home after a hellish double-shift. All he wanted to do was crawl into bed and pass out. He had finished his gift for Steven a few days after they all drew names, and he felt confident the drummer would like his gift when he got it the next night. When he walked into the living room, he waved tiredly at Steven, who was smoking lazily on the couch.

“Hey man,” the drummer nodded at him.

“Hey,” Duff sat next to him, leaning his head back, “Any crazy plans for tonight?”

Steven shrugged, “Nah, I need to figure out what to do for the Secret Santa thing.”

Duff snorted, “You’ve had a week and you’re doing this the night before?”

“It’s not my fault!” Steven whined, “I had to switch names last second.” He crossed his arms with a huff, and before Duff could question what he was talking about, the drummer muttered, “Izzy must’ve gotten you something really good, he wanted your name really bad.”

There was a long stretch of silence.

When Steven finally looked up, he immediately straightened in his seat, eyes widening at the sight of Duff’s pale face, “Dude? What’s wrong, are you ok-”

“Izzy got me for the exchange?” the bassist asked weakly.

“Well, I mean, he does now? He pretty much forced me to give it to him and-”

Duff stood abruptly, Steven following after him with his hands out because honestly Duff looked a little like he was going to pass out, “Oh my God. Oh my God, Izzy is going to give me something. I don’t have anything for him!”

“That’s okay, it’s okay!” Steven desperately tried to soothe him, “You’re only supposed to give a gift to your assigned person, so-”

“No!” Duff’s fingers curled into his own hair, eyes wide and panicky, “Izzy is getting me a gift! He- he deliberately got my name and I don’t have anything for him! That is not okay!”

“Fuck, okay, Duff, just breathe, okay? Oh God, please don’t cry! Duff if you start crying then I’m gonna start crying!”

Just then, the front door opened. Axl blinked in surprise, eyes darting between Steven and Duff and immediately rushing forward in concern, “What the Hell is going on? Why do you both look like you’re going to cry? Do I need to punch someone??”

Duff covered his face with his hands, “I fucked up and now Izzy is going to fucking hate me!”

“No, he’s not!” Steven insisted, rubbing Duff’s back as he turned to Axl, “Izzy has Duff’s name for the Secret Santa and now Duff is freaking out because he doesn’t have a gift for Izzy.”

Axl furrowed his brow in confusion, “But if you don’t have Izzy’s name then you weren’t supposed to get him a gift?”

“Fuck that!” Duff cried, “It- it’s Izzy! I can’t take something from him without giving him something back! He’ll think I don’t care!” His chest was heaving, “Oh my God, I can’t breathe, he’s going to think I don’t care, I can’t breathe, I’m dying-”

Scrambling, Steven and Axl gently pushed Duff back onto the couch, sitting on either side of him, “Duff, Duff, don’t think about that right now, just breathe okay? In and out, just copy us,” Axl’s deep voice was soft and comforting, Steven’s hand on his back grounding him as the two musicians beside him took exaggerated breaths.

As air finally started to reach his lungs, Duff wiped at his face roughly, “Fuck. Sorry.”

“Hey, you’re fine dude,” Steven insisted, Axl nodding in agreement. They were both a little shaken- they knew that Duff could get anxious, and he’d told them that he had had panic attacks before, but they’d never witnessed one before. Still, they managed to keep it together while Duff calmed down.

“Okay, so I still say you have nothing to worry about,” Axl began, “but if it will help, I know Nikki had Izzy’s name to start.”

“And I know no one in the house has his name,” Steven added, “So it’s definitely with someone in the Crue!”

Nodding, Duff took another deep breath, “Okay. Okay, so I’ll just go over, and switch, and… and figure out something to give him… tomorrow…” he ran a hand over his face, “Fuck.”

“It’ll be fine, you’ve totally got this!” Steven encouraged.

“Right. Fuck, I’m wasting time, I need to go,” Standing, Duff took a few steps towards the front door before stopping, turning on his heel and rushing into the room he shared with Steven. He emerged moments later with a paper bag clutched in his hand.

“What’s that?” Steven asked.

“Nothing. See ya,” And with that, Duff was running out the door.

Turning slowly towards Axl, Steven bit his lip nervously, “Should we…?”

Sighing, the red-head stood, “Yeah, probably.” The two men quickly ran out the door after the bassist, following after him down the street. Because they were good fucking friends.

~~~~~~~~~

Slash returned home after making a run to the liquor store and found the house dark, empty, and quiet. He glanced around in confusion, raising his hands in dismay.

“Where the fuck is everybody?”

~~~~~~~~~

“Maybe speed it up just a little?”

“I think the issue is more with the key than the speed,” Mick argued. Tommy hummed in consideration while Nikki made a few notes in his notebook. Motley Crue was crammed in their usual corner of the apartment dedicated to their band practice.

“Well, let’s start with a key change and then see how we feel,” Nikki decided. The others nodded in agreement, but before they could start playing, they all jumped as someone started pounding on their door.

“NIKKI!” A voice yelled, “Nikki, let me in!!”

All eyes snapped to the bassist, “What the fuck did you do, Sixx?” Vince questioned accusingly.

“I didn’t do anything!” Nikki replied, huffing defensively.

The pounding at the door suddenly stopped, and the four rockers heard more voices from outside, “Jesus fuck, Duff, will you please calm down?”

“Should we do another breathing exercise?”

“I’m fucking FINE, I just-”

Finally, Nikki hesitantly opened the door, revealing three fifths of Guns N Roses standing on his doorstep. “Uuuuuh… hi?”

“Nikki!” Duff exclaimed with relief, “Do you know who has Izzy’s name for the Secret Santa?”

“Mother fucker.”

Mick’s voice was more resigned than annoyed, and Duff immediately gave him his attention, “Mick do you have it? Can you-”

“Yes, fuck, whatever, I don’t care!” the guitarist threw his arms in the air in exasperation.

Beaming, Duff quickly jogged over, swapping scraps of paper and also handing Mick the paper bag he had brought with him.

Raising an eyebrow, Mick looked at it suspiciously, “What’s this?”

“Oh, I already had a gift, so you can just give it to him instead.”

“Hell yeah, that makes my life easier.”

“It was the least I could do,” Duff shrugged.

“Great, this has been fun,” Vince rolled his eyes, “Now get out, we’re busy being a better band than you guys.”

“Excuse me?!” Axl stepped forward, fists clenched and ready to go, but Duff swiftly wrapped his arms around his waist and lifted him off the floor. “Hey!!” the singer struggled, arms still reaching out as if he could get a hit in from his current position.

Duff nodded at the four men, “Thanks again. See you guys tomorrow!”

Calling out their farewells, Vince snickered as Axl cried out “This isn’t over, asshole!” just as the door closed behind them.

Nikki shook his head, “I get the feeling that tomorrow is going to be interesting.”

~~~~~~~~~~

By the time the two bands piled into the living room of the Hell House, every single one of them was some level of buzzed. Slash and Steven had smoked a bit earlier in the evening, Nikki, Tommy, and Vince had done a few lines, and the drinks were flowing early. Duff didn’t even bother with pretense this time, a bottle of Vodka held loosely in his hand.

“Man, we should have decorated the apartment!” Tommy pouted as he admired the Christmas lights that had been tossed around and hung haphazardly in the living room, Duff smiling proudly from his seat. Axl, Izzy, Vince, and Steven were pressed close together on the couch, Mick taking the only chair, while the rest of the group sat on the floor. The coffee table was piled up with their shoddily wrapped gifts in the middle of their circle.

“Alright, who’s starting this thing?” Nikki questioned.

For a moment, everyone was silent, each person looking around and waiting for someone else to volunteer. “Oh for fucks sake,” Axl rolled his eyes, “Steven, this whole thing was your idea, so you get to start.”

“Sure!” Steven grinned widely, reaching into the pile to grab a paper bag with a very familiar shape, “Merry Christmas, Mick!”

“Hey, wait a sec-” Axl protested.

Opening the bag, no one was surprised to see the bottle of vodka inside. There was a chorus of complaints, Nikki slamming his hands on the coffee table, “Dude, we said no alcohol!”

But the drummer only smirked mischievously, “That’s the real gift,” he explained, “My present to Mick is saying ‘fuck it’ to the rules.”

The group went silent, all of them considering his words. “Damn,” Slash muttered, “That’s actually pretty good.”

Even Mick couldn’t hold back a small smirk, nodding in appreciation, “I dig it. Thanks, drummer,” he raised the bottle with a nod of thanks, and Steven pumped his fist in victory. Slash mentally sighed in relief that at least the drummer hadn’t tried to kiss the man.

“Let’s just go clockwise, now,” Tommy suggested, “So Mick, you’re up next!”

“Well, surprise, surprise,” the older man rolled his eyes, “I got Steven. So here,” he grabbed the bag Duff had given him the day before, pushing it into the blonde’s arms.

Opening the bad excitedly, Steven gasped in excitement. He pulled out a pair of drumsticks, the handles covered in dark swirls and designs which, upon closer observation, looked like they had been practically carved on with ballpoint pen. “These are awesome! Thanks, ‘Mick’,” he looked at the guitarist first, before smiling at Duff. Slash and Izzy exchanged silent glances. Neither understood the exchange, shrugging nonchalantly and ultimately deciding not to worry about it.

Slash was next, and he shyly tossed a light package wrapped in tissue paper into Axl lap, “I got Axl. Merry Christmas, dude.”

A subtle pink spread across Axl’s cheeks before he even opened the package, but it got even worse once he did. Folded inside was a bandana. Everyone knew it was one of Axl’s favorite accessories to wear, so it made sense as a gift, but what really made him pause was the pattern on it. The black fabric was covered with designs of golden snakes wrapped around dark red roses.

Swallowing thickly, Axl cleared his throat, doing his best to smile casually, “This is awesome, man,” he looked up to meet Slash’s eyes, “Thank you.”

Mick took a long drink from his vodka.

“Okay! Tommy, you’re next!” Slash slapped at the drummer’s arm, desperate to get the attention away from himself and the singer.

“Oh, yeah, right!” Tommy nervously lunged forward, to grab his gift. His present was in a paper grocery bag, which he held carefully by the handles as he placed it in Nikki’s lap next to him, “Here you go, buddy!”

Nikki blinked in surprise, his heart skipping a few beats as he looked down at the bag. Opening it up, his eyes widened as he saw what it was. Moving carefully to keep it upright, Nikki pulled out a small potted succulent. The bassist couldn’t help but let out a small, breathy laugh.

Tommy gave him roots. The fucking, sappy bastard.

“Thanks, man!” He slung an arm around the drummer’s shoulders, pulling him close to his side, “I fucking love it!” He shook his head a little, letting his bangs cover his eyes that he knew were getting glassy. “And hey, what are the odds, I got your name,” the entire room rolled their eyes, a few of them chuckling at the reality of what they’d all gotten themselves into. Meanwhile, Nikki grabbed a foil wrapped bundle and handed it to Tommy.

Peeling back the foil eagerly, Tommy gasped, “Cookies!!”

While they weren’t exactly prize-winning, with Izzy’s help Nikki managed to make the pastries both edible and at least somewhat visually appealing. As he happily shoved a cookie into his mouth, Tommy almost choked when he saw, near the bottom of the pile where no one else could see, one large cookie shaped like a heart.

“Thnn yu nnk! Ahveum!” Tommy’s words were practically unintelligible as he tried to speak with his mouth full, but Nikki understood, especially when the taller boy pulled him into a tight hug.

“Anytime, dude,” both of them were beaming, and even as Nikki called for Duff to take his turn, the terror twins kept their arms around each other.

Duff took a large gulp of his vodka before shakily reaching for his gift. It was small and flat, wrapped in magazine pages, and he couldn’t quite meet Izzy’s eyes as he held it out to him, “Here you go, Izzy. Um, merry Christmas.”

Taking the gift, Izzy could feel himself gaping. He hadn’t expected Duff to get him for the game. Tearing the paper, he found himself pulling out a loop of bass strings. As he looked at it though, he realized that the four strings had been carefully braided together. The braid was then carefully twisted around before being wrapped tightly with a thin metal wire to hold it together as an intricate bracelet.

Izzy couldn’t stop staring at it, “Dude,” he breathed out, “this is amazing. Did you make this?”

Duff was twisting his fingers together so hard it had to be painful, “Uh, yeah, I…”

Smiling, Izzy slipped the bracelet on, only taking his eyes off it for a moment to look at the bassist, “It’s amazing. Thank you.”

Returning the smile, Duff allowed himself to relax, if only a little, “Anytime. Uh, Axl, you’re up.”

Steeling himself, the singer kept his face neutral as he tossed a small plastic bag across the coffee table, “Merry Christmas, Slasher,” he smirked, putting all his effort into not showing his nervousness.

Slash didn’t know what to expect, but when he opened the bag and saw what was inside, he immediately burst into a grin and started laughing. Axl smiled in relief, while the rest of the group looked on in confusion. Finally, Slash pulled out a pair of heart shaped sunglasses with soft red lenses.

The group laughed along with him, “Oh my gosh, you got him rose-colored glasses? That’s amazing,” Izzy chuckled, bumping his shoulder against Axl’s.

“Heart eyes, motherfucker!” Tommy laughed.

As his laughter trailed off, Slash looked up at Axl, his smile soft and sincere, “Thank you, Axl. They’re perfect.”

Ducking his head, Axl smiled back shyly before clearing his throat and turning to Izzy, “Alright Stradlin, your turn.”

The smile dropped off of Izzy’s face, replaced by anxiety and uncertainty. But there was no going back now. He had to fucking commit to the plan. He picked up a small box and handed it over to the tall blonde bassist, “Right. Merry Christmas, Duff.”

Duff looked almost as nervous as Izzy did (Axl didn’t know whether he wanted to smack them or hug them). Opening the box, he blinked in surprise. Tilting his head curiously, he pulled out one of Izzy’s wristwatches. “Oh, cool. Thank you!” Across from him, Izzy took a deep breath and finally managed to force out what he’d been practicing in his head all day.

“If there’s no time like the present, then there’s no present like the time.”

Everyone’s eyes snapped to the guitarist, and he felt his face grow warm with the attention. Then, Duff snorted, slapping a hand over his mouth at the sound. But it was no use- within seconds he had dissolved into giggles. The rest of the room soon followed.

“Oh my God. Oh my GOD,” Axl laughed loudly, “You got him a fucking dad joke for Christmas!”

Even Mick was chuckling, and Tommy grinned at Steven, “I think Izzy beat you as far as metaphorical gifts go, dude.”

“I’m okay with that,” Steven giggled.

By the time they all calmed down, Duff had fallen back to lay on the floor, clutching the watch to his chest as his laughter finally tapered off, “Oh, Izzy, I love- I love it. Thank you,” he was smiling so wide his face hurt, and Izzy’s cheeks were still bright red, but he didn’t care. It was worth it.

“Wait…” Slash suddenly narrowed his eyes, “Hold on a sec…” Scanning the room, his jaw dropped, “Who the fuck got Vince??”

“I DID, BITCHES!” the Motley Crue font man stood dramatically, flipping his hair as he made his revelation.

“What the fuck?” Steven gaped, “Did you draw your own name?”

“You bet your ass I did.”

“Why didn’t you say anything??”

“Because I deserve nice things and who better to treat me to them than me?” he grinned pretentiously, “For this exchange I got myself an entirely new makeup kit and a new scarf, which is way better than-” suddenly, Vince pouted, “Hey!” he cried, clearly offended, “At least go into another room!”

The rest of the boys followed his gaze, quickly groaning when they found Nikki practically in Tommy’s lap as the two kissed passionately. Axl made fake gagging noises, while Mick just took a long, long drink from his Christmas Vodka.

“Alright, I think we all need some drinks,” Axl rolled his eyes as he stood, “You two better cool it before I get back or I'm pouring ice water over your heads.” Nikki flipped him off without even breaking away from the drummer.

As the red-head rushed out of the room, Slash stood abruptly, “I’ll go help!” He quickly hurried into the kitchen behind him.

“I’m definitely down to get fucked up, but I need a smoke first,” Izzy sighed. Hesitating, he offered almost shyly, “You want one, Duff?” He held his box of cigarettes out in offering.

With a small smile, Duff stood to follow him outside, “Yeah, sure.”

As they left, Steven looked between the door that closed behind them, the entryway to the kitchen, and the terror twins still making out on the floor in front of them. Quietly, he reached out to hold hands with both Mick and Vince.

The guitarist narrowed his eyes, and started to pull away, “Don’t-”

“Shhhhhh, Mick,” Vince grinned as he shushed him, sitting down directly on Steven’s lap, “It’s Christmas.”

“…Jesus Christ,” Mick let out a long sigh, glancing upwards for just a moment. But when Steven and Vince shifted over to make room for him, he moved to sit next to them on the couch, allowing Steven to continue holding his hand as they passed the bottle of vodka between them. And as much as Mick might try to deny it, none of them could keep a smile off their faces.

~~~~~~~~~

“So, there’s a second part to my gift.”

Axl jumped slightly when Slash’s spoke behind him. Turning to face him, he felt his cheeks burning again just thinking about the gifts they had given each other, “Oh?”

Slash nodded, tugging on a strand of hair shyly.

After a long pause, Axl tilted his head questioningly, “…So-” But right as he tried to speak, Slash finally gathered his courage and surged forward, wrapping his arms around Axl’s waist and kissing him deeply.

For a moment, the singer felt frozen in shock, but once his brain catches up and he convinces himself that this isn’t some hyperrealistic fever dream, he can’t help but melt into Slash’s arms, kissing back passionately. They’ve both waited so long for this moment that they can’t help but stay pressed together until they’re forced to break for air, both gasping deeply into each other’s mouths.

“…That was actually Steven’s Christmas gift to you.”

“WhAT??”

~~~~~~~~~~~~

The night air outside was brisk, but for two men who were raised outside of California it was pleasant. Duff and Izzy smoked quietly next to each other, standing in the dim glow of the only working light outside of the Hell House. With each drag of his cigarette, Izzy mentally worked himself up to just say something to Duff. Something, anything to even remotely explain his feelings.

But before he got a chance, Duff started rambling.

“Thank you again. For the gift, I mean. I mean the- not that the watch isn’t nice! I love it, honestly, but that joke man, I definitely didn’t see that coming. And I know sometimes my jokes are dumb, so I appreciate you… indulging me, or whatever,” he waved his hand vaguely, ducking his face in embarrassment, “It just, meant a lot to me. Which might seem weird, or dumb, but-”

Izzy interrupted him with a soft, gentle kiss that still managed to steal the breath from his lungs.

Pulling back, Izzy weaved a hand through Duff’s hair, cupping the back of his head lightly, “I love your jokes. And I love your smile, and your laugh, and your bass playing, and your singing, and… I fucking love you.”

“Oh,” Duff breathed quietly, his eyes wide with awe, “Thank God. Cause… I love you too.”

Laughing, Izzy didn’t have any more words to say. He simply pulled Duff down to kiss him softly again and again.

~~~~~~~~~~

Both bands got spectacularly wasted that night. They pooled their money and ordered five pizzas, and passed around bottles of nightrain and whiskey and vodka, and played music as loud as their speakers could go. Axl and Nikki started writing song lyrics on the walls, and Tommy and Steven drummed on every surface available including their bandmates. At first every kiss was met with groaning and gagging, but by the end of the night every kiss got a round of applause and drunken cheers. Steven even managed to steal a kiss from Mick without being punched in the face. Motley Crue ended up spending the night, half the group stumbling towards whatever mattresses were open, while the other half passed out on the floor of the living room.

Looking around at the group of rockers, Steven beamed happily.

“God bless us, every-”

Vince shoved a pillow into his face.

#my writing #Motley Crue #Guns n Roses #gnr #christmas fic #slaxl #terrorcest #duzzy

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