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trustsalvatorewriting · 4 years

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crush culture || kendall knight - chapter one

Summary: In which Kendall Knight has a crush on a girl who plays the drums at a local cafe

Word Count: 2,356

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❝ you make me feel like a teenager in love, you make me feel like i'll be forever young❞

KENDALL GROANED AS HE HEARD A CRASH FROM OUTSIDE HIS BEDROOM, throwing a throw pillow over his head to block out the noises and lights. He'd had to go into the studio yesterday for nearly twelve hours trying to fulfill one of Gustavo's checklists, and about halfway through, he'd started developing a migraine. He'd shrugged it off the night before and tried to sleep it off, but it had somehow gotten worse overnight.

Thankfully, he would have the day off, as he'd managed to get a few harmonies done the day before. He reached toward his navy blue curtains and pulled them over the sunlight leaking in through his window, laying still as he waited for the noise in the apartment to die down.

It was moments like this that he longed for his life in Minnesota. While he was thankful that he'd been given such a privileged life in California, he knew that if he hadn't gone to the auditions with James six months ago, he would've been at the ice rink at the moment, practicing for a hockey scholarship. He wouldn't have learned the meaning of 'stress migraine,' and he definitely wouldn't have had to leave his apartment to get a decent cup of coffee.

When he finally forced himself out of bed, he was met with an empty coffee machine and an empty bag of ground coffee. Kendall all but slammed his head into the kitchen pantry, throwing the bag into the garbage disposal and reaching for his phone. In truth, he wasn't even completely sure where the nearest cafe was, but he remembered his mom mentioning that there was a small one at the hippie grocery store on Rosé.

'God, that's such a Hollywood name,' Kendall thought to himself as he ordered his taxi. Once it confirmed, he quickly changed into a hoodie and jeans, sliding his keys into his back pocket. He headed for the taxi the moment he saw it drive into the parking lot, only giving slight nods to his friends as he rushed to get his coffee.

Thankfully, the driver hadn't tried to start any conversations, allowing him to sit in the backseat in silence. He leaned his head against the window, shutting his eyes as he tried to block out the sunlight. It felt as though direct sunlight would set fire to the back of his eyes.

As the driver pulled into the front of the grocery store, Kendall winced at the slight jerking movement of the vehicle as it came to a halt. He handed a fifty dollar bill to the driver and stepped out, pulling his hoodie over his head as he stared at the oddly hippie grocery store, complete with plants hanging outside the building and a green-painted sign with the name 'Williams' painted in white letters.

Kendall lightly rolled his eyes at the California culture, making his way into the store and heading for the cafe area towards the back. It was a completely different atmosphere from the coffee places and grocery stores they'd had in Minnesota, and while he likely would've figured that out sooner, he'd spent the majority of his time in California stuffed in a recording studio.

As he approached the cafe, he noticed a few bookshelves towards the wall, filled with journals and cooking books, and whatever else California people liked to read. He walked toward the counter and noticed a short girl sitting behind the register, a dazed look on her face as she rhythmically tapped her fingers.

"Uh, hey, could I get a cup of coffee?" Kendall asked, pulling his hoodie off his head. He'd made a slight effort to brush out his hair, but had given up after a while and shoved it ebenath a gray beanie.

The girl snapped out of her thoughts and turned to face him, allowing him to get a view of her name tag: Emory. She smiled happily, soft brown eyes lighting up when she noticed him. "Hi! Welcome to William's Coffee House. What can I get you?"

An involuntary smile came to his face when he heard her voice, but it quickly faded away when his eyes drifted to the menu. He fumbled with his words as he scanned the list of coffees, complete with lattes and espressos -- and what the hell was a macchiato? Kendall rubbed the back of his neck, confusion painted across his ivory features. "Uh... the coffee... kind?"

Emory bit back a laugh and went through the buttons on the register. "I'll just get you a small black coffee, and you can add cream and sugar if you want."

"Thank you," He sighed. He reached to grab a twenty dollar bill from his pocket, but she pushed his hand away quickly. Kendall looked u, dark eyebrows knitted together in confusion.

"Don't even worry about it. It's on the house," She explained lightly, standing to go prepare his coffee. "You look like you've had a rough day."

"Is it that obvious?" Kendall questioned, tugging at the edges of his beanie so they covered his temples. They felt like they were going to explode.

She hesitated, reaching out to hand his coffee cup to him. She pursed her lips together, as if she were searching for the best words to tell him that he looked like he just crawled out from the garbage disposal. Emory winced at her own words as she said, "You're still cute."

Kendall might've blushed if it weren't for the tightening feeling on the right side of his head.

As he reached up to press his palms against his eyes, Emory questioned, "Do you have a migraine? I have Excedrin in my bag, if you want some. They're not crazy drugs or whatever."

"Excedrin?" He pulled his hands away from his eyes to find her holding out a small bottle of acetaminophen. She smiled lightly and placed it next to her coffee. "Thanks."

"No problem. I carry them around 'cause my brother and I get migraines a lot. One or two should be good depending on how bad it is," Emory advised. Kendall ignored her and shook three pills out of the bottle. "I mean, or you could do that."

The corner of his mouth twitched into a smile as he went to take the three excedrins and swallow them down with the hot coffee. He winced at the taste, setting it down.

"Didn't you say you wanted cream and sugar?" Emory questioned, pointing at the cup.

Kendall deadpanned at the sight of the cream and sugar, throwing his hand onto the desk. Emory giggled and took the cup from him, shaking in a little bit of each ingredient. Her laugh was high-pitched, similar to a cartoon character's. He lifted his head slightly. "Cute laugh."

Emory dropped the sugar packet into the cup. Her eyes widened and she quickly began preparing another cup. "I'm Emory."

"Kendall," He responded. "That's a... unique name."

"Thanks," She chuckled. "My Pops chose it. It's supposed to mean 'brave' or 'powerful' or something. I'm neither of those, which is why I'm working in a nearly empty café at eleven in the morning on a Friday."

"Three-day weekend," Kendall shrugged and took the cup from her. He smiled, his migraine already beginning to fade away.

She nodded and sat down in a stool behind the counter. Emory didn't have the nerve to tell him that her dads had named her other siblings 'Silas' and 'Andromeda.' She also didn't have the energy to explain that her dads had given her one mental health day per quarter, and she'd used it today so she could skip out on volleyball. She was only 5'2" which made serving the ball practically impossible.

For some reason, she'd wanted to impress him. She wasn't quite sure how to do that while she was sitting in a coffee apron, at the back of a grocery store, though. He was genuinely attractive -- the kind that you found on the cover of magazines and billboards. Complete with dirty blonde bangs, deep green eyes, and dimples. As dramatic as it sounded, Emory swore he would be the death of her.

Kendall stole glances at her as she cleaned up the suddenly messy counter, and pretended not to notice when she glanced back. He hadn't been able to meet a lot of people in Hollywood -- at least, no one outside of the Palm Woods. Gustavo and Kelly had kept him under lock and key in the studio. It had been somewhat justified, of course, considering they were working on an album; but there were times where he missed working at the grocery store in Minnesota. Times where he would've preferred to be playing hockey with his friends, as opposed to learning the same dance moves over and over again.

God, he felt privileged.

"So, skipping out on school, pretty boy?" Emory had said it without even glancing up, but he could hear the smile in her words.

"No, I, uh, have an off-day today," Kendall responded awkwardly. He wasn't sure how to explain that he'd completely forgotten about the essay he had to turn on by three o'clock today. "What about you?"

"My dads let me take the day off," Emory explained. She caught her words immediately and winced, waiting for the backlash or questions she would inevitably receive. Even in California, the LGBT capital of the world, there were somehow always questions.

"Dads, huh? What are their names?"

"Johan and Gerard," She said hesitantly. He would ask about her siblings now, or whether her mom had died, or where she was adopted from. She held her breath.

"That's cool."

'What the fuck?'

"Yeah, they're pretty great," Emory agreed, slightly confused but overall relieved by his reaction. He only gave her a calm look, implying that he was generally unbothered by the topic. She nodded in approval. "So, tell me about yourself, pretty boy."

"What do you wanna know?" Kendall asked, leaning back in his chair. "I'm from Minnesota; I really love hockey and music; and me and my sister Katie were raised by a single mom."

"What do you mean by 'you love music?'" Emory squinted her eyes lightly and sat down in the seat across from him, leaning forward. "Do you, like, play any instruments or are you one of those guys that listens to music and says they love it so they look really cool and pretentious?"

"I'm in a band with my best friends. I think I'm pretty into music," Kendall chuckled. "I play, like, the smallest amount of guitar; but I mostly sing."

"It's not a band of none of you play the instruments," Emory was quick to point out. "I'm in a small band with my foster sister, Evie. I play drums."

"You play drums?" Kendall snickered. "And that's not fair. We're mostly singers."

"Then you're a group, not a band," She shot back. "Yeah, I play drums. Is that hard to believe?"

"You're just so tiny," Kendall laughed. "I couldn't imagine that."

"Ever hears the phrase 'you're lucky you're cute?'" Emory questioned, to sing a sugar packet in his general direction. It hit the side of his flannel jacket, and she sighed internally. He was kind of making her eyes hurt at this point. She mentally went over all the reasons that it would be completely unethical for her to ask for his number, then all of the reasons that she would regret not asking for his number.

Unfortunately, she wasn't given the time to come to a balanced conclusion. Kendall's phone rang and he took it out of his pocket, sending Emory an apologetic look as he did so. The moment he answered it, his mood seemed to falter, and by the end of the call he'd practically slammed his head against the wooden counter.

"Uh, are you okay?" Emory questioned, lightly poking his shoulder as he hung up his phone.

"Nope. My producer is calling me into work today, after he promised me the day off yesterday!" He raised his voice and yelled at his phone, despite the fact that the caller had hung up already. He peeked at Emory from between his fingers. "I probably look really weird right now."

Emory nodded, her nose crinkling as she smiled down at him. "You do."

Kendall sighed and lifted his head, shoving his phone back into his pocket. He looked at Emory. "I should probably..."

"Yeah. I wouldn't want you to get fired or anything. A face like that deserves to have screaming girls chasing after it," Emory said. She regretted her words immediately, questioning whether she'd spoken proper English just then.

If Kendall noticed, he chose not to say anything about it. Instead, he went to stand and took a few paces away from the café. "I'll uh... I'll see you around?"

'Ask for his number. Ask for his number. Ask for his number.'

"Uh, yeah! You should visit again. I'll give you a discount on your coffee next time," Emory responded with a smile.

"Yeah, I will. Uh... thanks, Emmy," Kendall nodded at her, before his phone went off in his pocket again. He groaned and pulled it out, practically yelling into the phone. "I'm coming!"

Once he was out of sight, Emory groaned and laid her head down on the counter, covering her blushing face. She felt a hand on her shoulder and looked up to see Gerard, who was covered in flour and baking ingredients.

She sighed. "How much of that did you see?"

Gerard rubbed his daughter's back comfortingly. "You'll get better eventually, Emmy."

Emory deadpanned, letting out a sigh. The next time she would see him was on the cover of a magazine, being proclaimed the new teen heartthrob.

If she knew she would get Silas' flirting skills by spending so much time around him, she might've tried to get him kicked out of the house sooner.

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reggiemantleholdmyhand-tle · 3 years

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Anaïs Cunningham — accompanied by her bandmates Trevor, Jubilee, and Tex — moves to the Palm Woods in Los Angeles in pursuit of a record deal with Gustavo Rocque, who is looking to branch out from his usual bubblegum pop to rock music. All she wants is a shot to prove that she’s just as good — if not better — than Big Time Rush and their teeny-bopper music.

Nickname(s): A, Neece, Neecey

Pronouns: she/her

Career: Lead singer of Heartbreak Limbo

Love Interest: Kendall Knight

btr taglist: @hughstheforcelou (let me know if you’d like to be added!)

#oc: anaïs cunningham #btr #big time rush #big time rush oc #kendall knight x oc

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iit-s-kitty · 7 years

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Would anybody be interested in a Kendall/OC?

I'm talking about Kendall Knight the character, not the actor (god knows that RP fanfiction is where I draw the line), but yes, I have a few drafts of a Kendall/OC story after binge watching BTR this week. So please, if you're interested in it just like the post, and it'll tag you when it's posted.

#kendall knight #big time rush #Kendall imagines #Kendall knight imagines #Kendall knight imagine #big time rush imagine #big time rush imagines #BTR #big time rush fanfiction #fanficton #my fanficton #Kendall knight fanfiction #petta writes #oc #original female character #ofc #canon x oc #Kendall knight x oc #Kendall x oc

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raging-violets · 5 years

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For the OBSCENELY domestic starter sentence: "You actual shit, you started without me!?" for whoever you guys want haha

“You actual shit, you started without me!?”

“Sorry.” Kendall dropped his feet from the coffee table and reached for the remote. Flipping it in his hand, he pressed his thumb into the PAUSE button and the image on screen stilled. “It’s just previews. Thought I’d get a jump start on them.”

“I control everything, you know.”

“And you do a great job at it,” Kendall said with a sigh, dropping back onto the couch. Though, he didn’t consider it as controlling. Not so much, anyway. Who else would he expect to be his biggest supporter? She was always there to tell him to try one more time to beat his speed record on the ice, or to tell him to push himself when struggling with his dance moves.

“Who said you could out on that bloody shirt, anyway?”

Kendall looked down at the flannel he was wearing, frowning. It was kind of his signature look. Not so much “in” while in Los Angeles, but a normal staple of clothing in Minnesota. And he knew she loved it, too. His shirts always seemed to disappear from his closet and wind up in hers.

“Oh. My. God.” Riley stepped out of the bedroom, cradling a computer in the crook of her arm. Her fingers slid across the track pad, and she clicked furiously. “Stop. Stop. Stop!” Dropping on the couch next to Kendall, she swung her pigtails back behind her shoulder.

“I thought you liked this shirt,” he said to her,

Riley briefly looked over at him. “It’s red,” she said, turning back to her computer, “’course I love it. Brings out your eyes, too.” She shrugged her shoulder. “You know that’s my favorite part of you.”

“Yeah,” Kendall said slowly. “But, you were just saying–” He stopped in mid sentence, eyes widening when Riley growled, shaking her computer.

“What’s the point of telling your Sim to do something when it doesn’t listen?” she asked. “Aren’t you going to start the movie?”

“You were talking about your Sims?”

“Yeah.” Riley looked over at Kendall. “Think I was talking to you?”

“Well. Yeah.” Kendall crossed his arms over his chest. “I mean, you weren’t exactly wrong with everything else.” He lifted a finger in the air. “Except the shirt, I like this shirt.”

Lifting an eyebrow, Riley turned her computer screen to face him and Kendall made a face at the orange camouflage shirt a character that closely resembled him adorned.

“Yeah, that’s hideous.”

“It should be burned.” Riley smirked. “Along with that superhero outfit in the back of the closet.”

“Hey!” His eyebrows pulled towards each other and his frown deepened as they watched the character resembling Riley pointing and laughing behind the Kendall character’s back. “Not funny.”

“You should know better, yeah?” Riley asked with a snort. She rolled her head on her shoulders and smiled sweetly at Kendall, batting her eyelashes. “Reckon I’ve always insulted you to your face.”

“I love you, too,” Kendall said, in a tone that was half flat and half amusement. He pressed a kiss to her temple and started the movie. “That costume wasn’t that bad.”

Tag: @dancerdramatic14

[ Obscenely Domestic Starter | Ask Box ]

#darknightfrombeyond #answered ask #oc: riley jackson #riley jackson #kendall knight #kendall x riley #kiley #fd: big time rush #rhuben answered

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ghxst-heart · 3 years

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ᴡʜᴀᴛ ᴀᴍ ɪ ᴡʀɪᴛɪɴɢ?

A list of requests that I have received and am struggling to working on!

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✧─── ･｡ﾟ✧: *.✧ .* :✧. ───✧

‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎

ᴛᴇʟᴇᴠɪsɪᴏɴ sʜᴏᴡs

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𝟿-𝟷-𝟷

ɴᴏɴᴇ ᴀᴛ ᴛʜᴇ ᴍᴏᴍᴇɴᴛ ─ Please send in requests!

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ʙɪɢ ᴛɪᴍᴇ ʀᴜsʜ

ʙʀᴏᴋᴇɴ ɴᴏsᴇ ─ Fem!Reader, Romantic!Kendall Knight X Reader

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ʙᴏʏ ᴍᴇᴇᴛs ᴡᴏʀʟᴅ

ᴄᴜʀʀᴇɴᴛʟʏ ᴜɴᴛɪᴛʟᴇᴅ ─ GenderNeutral!Reader, AFAB!Reader Biracial!Reader, Pregnant!Reader, Romantic!Shawn Hunter X Reader

ᴄᴜʀʀᴇɴᴛʟʏ ᴜɴᴛɪᴛʟᴇᴅ ─ NSFW, Fem!Reader, Black!Reader, Romantic!Shawn Hunter X Reader

ᴄᴜʀʀᴇɴᴛʟʏ ᴜɴᴛɪᴛʟᴇᴅ ─ GenderNeutral!Reader, Crushing!Shawn Hunter X Reader

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ᴛʜᴇ ʙᴇᴛᴛᴇʀ ᴄᴏʀʏ ᴀɴᴅ ᴛᴏᴘᴀɴɢᴀ ─ GenderNeutral!Reader, MatthewsSibling!Reader, Romantic!Shawn Hunter X Reader, Familial!Maya Hart X Reader

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ᴅᴀɴᴄᴇ ᴀᴄᴀᴅᴇᴍʏ

ɴᴏɴᴇ ᴀᴛ ᴛʜᴇ ᴍᴏᴍᴇɴᴛ ─ Please send in requests!

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ᴇᴜᴘʜᴏʀɪᴀ

ɴᴏɴᴇ ᴀᴛ ᴛʜᴇ ᴍᴏᴍᴇɴᴛ ─ Please send in requests!

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ғᴇᴀʀ ᴛʜᴇ ᴡᴀʟᴋɪɴɢ ᴅᴇᴀᴅ

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ɢɪʀʟ ᴍᴇᴇᴛs ᴡᴏʀʟᴅ

ɴᴏᴛ ʟɪᴋᴇ ᴍɪᴅᴅʟᴇ sᴄʜᴏᴏʟ ─ GenderNeutral!Reader, Romantic!Lucas Friar X Reader

ɢʀᴏᴡɪɴɢ ᴜᴘ, ɢʀᴏᴡɪɴɢ ᴀᴘᴀʀᴛ ─ GenderNeutral!Reader, Romantic!Josh Mattews X Reader

ᴍᴏɴᴏᴘᴏʟʏ ─ GenderNeutral!Reader, Romantic!Josh Mattews X Reader

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ɢʟᴇᴇ

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ɢᴏᴏᴅ ʟᴜᴄᴋ ᴄʜᴀʀʟɪᴇ

ɴᴏɴᴇ ᴀᴛ ᴛʜᴇ ᴍᴏᴍᴇɴᴛ ─ Please send in requests!

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ɢᴏssɪᴘ ɢɪʀʟ

ᴄᴜʀʀᴇɴᴛʟʏ ᴜɴᴛɪᴛʟᴇᴅ ─ Masc!Reader, ClosetedLGBTQIA2S+!Reader, Crushing!Nate Archibald X Reader

ᴛʜᴇ ᴘʀɪɴᴄᴇss ᴀɴᴅ ᴛʜᴇ ᴘᴀᴜᴘᴇʀ ─ Fem!Reader, Romantic!Blair Waldorf X Reader

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ɪᴄᴀʀʟʏ

ɴᴏɴᴇ ᴀᴛ ᴛʜᴇ ᴍᴏᴍᴇɴᴛ ─ Please send in requests!

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ʟᴇɢᴀᴄɪᴇs

ᴄᴜʀʀᴇɴᴛʟʏ ᴜɴᴛɪᴛʟᴇᴅ ─ NSFW, GenderNeutral!Reader, AFAB!Reader, Biracial!Reader, Romantic!Rafael Waithe X Reader

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ᴍʏ ʙᴀʙʏsɪᴛᴛᴇʀ's ᴀ ᴠᴀᴍᴘɪʀᴇ

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ʟᴏsᴛ ɪɴ sᴛᴏʀʏʙʀᴏᴏᴋᴇ ─ Fem!Reader, Crushing!Felix X Reader

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ɴᴇᴠᴇʀʟᴀɴᴅ's sᴇᴄʀᴇᴛ: ᴀ sᴇʀɪᴇs ─ Fem!OC, EventualRomantic!Peter Pan X OC

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ᴘʀᴇᴛᴛʏ ʟɪᴛᴛʟᴇ ʟɪᴀʀs

ʜᴜᴍᴅʀᴜᴍ ─ GenderNeutral!Reader, Crushing!Toby Cavanaugh X Reader

ʙᴇʜɪɴᴅ ᴄʟᴏsᴇᴅ ᴅᴏᴏʀs ─ Fem!Reader, Romantic!Jason DiLaurentis X Reader

ᴏᴘᴘᴏsɪᴛᴇs ᴀᴛᴛʀᴀᴄᴛ ─ Fem!Reader, Curvy!Reader, Crushing!Lucas Gottesman X Reader

ᴘʟᴀʏᴛʜɪɴɢs ɴᴏ ᴍᴏʀᴇ ─ GenderNeutral!Reader, Platonic!Spencer Hastings X Reader

ᴄᴜʀʀᴇɴᴛʟʏ ᴜɴᴛɪᴛʟᴇᴅ ─ Fem!Reader, Crushing!Spencer Hastings X Reader

ᴄᴜʀʀᴇɴᴛʟʏ ᴜɴᴛɪᴛʟᴇᴅ ─ GenderNeutral!Reader, Platonic!Paige McCullers X Reader

ᴅᴇᴇᴘ ʙʀᴇᴀᴛʜs ─ NSFW, GenderNeutral!Reader, AFAB!Reader Romantic!Mike Montgomery X Reader

ᴏᴜᴛᴄᴀsᴛs ─ Fem!Reader, RadleyPatient!Reader, Liar!Reader, Crushing!Mike Montgomery X Reader

ᴅɪᴅ ʏᴏᴜ ɢᴇᴛ ʟᴏsᴛ? ─ Fem!Reader, Romantic!Mike Montgomery X Reader

ʀᴀɪɴʏ ᴅᴀʏs ─ Fem!Reader, Crushing!Caleb Rivers X Reader

ᴄᴜʀʀᴇɴᴛʟʏ ᴜɴᴛɪᴛʟᴇᴅ ─ Fem!Reader, Romantic!Mona Vanderwaal X Reader

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ʀᴇɪɢɴ

ᴡʜᴀᴛ ᴛʜᴇʏ ᴅᴏɴ'ᴛ ᴋɴᴏᴡ ─ Fem!Reader, Romantic!Mary Stuart X Reader

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ʀɪᴠᴇʀᴅᴀʟᴇ

ᴄᴜʀʀᴇɴᴛʟʏ ᴜɴᴛɪᴛʟᴇᴅ ─ GenderNeutral!Reader, Shy!Reader, Introvert!Reader, Poly!Choni X Reader

ᴜɴᴅᴇʀ ᴛʜᴇ sᴛᴀʀs ─ GenderNeutral!Reader, Crushing!Jason Blossom X Reader

ʙɪʀᴛʜᴅᴀʏ ʙʟᴜᴇs ─ Fem!Reader, Romantic!Fangs Fogarty X Reader

ᴛʜᴀᴛ ᴏɴᴇ ᴛᴀʏʟᴏʀ sᴡɪғᴛ sᴏɴɢ ─ GenderNeutral!Reader, Exes!Reggie Mantle X Reader

ᴄᴜʀʀᴇɴᴛʟʏ ᴜɴᴛɪᴛʟᴇᴅ ─ Fem!Reader, Romantic!Sweet Pea X Reader

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ᴛᴇᴇɴ ᴡᴏʟғ

ʏᴏᴜ ᴅᴏɴ'ᴛ ʜᴀᴠᴇ ᴍʏ ᴘᴇʀᴍɪssɪᴏɴ ─ Fem!Reader, Werewolf!Reader, Platonic!Allison Argent X Reader

ᴇʟᴇᴄᴛʀɪᴄ ʟᴏᴠᴇ ─ GenderNeutral!Reader, Crushing!Isaac Lahey X Reader

ᴄᴜʀʀᴇɴᴛʟʏ ᴜɴᴛɪᴛʟᴇᴅ ─ GenderNeutral!Reader, Romantic!Isaac Lahey X Reader

ᴄᴏɴsᴛᴇʟʟᴀᴛɪᴏɴs ─ GenderNeutral!Reader, Romantic!Stiles Stilinski X Reader

sʟɪᴘᴘɪɴɢ ᴛʜʀᴏᴜɢʜ ᴛʜᴇ ᴄʀᴀᴄᴋs ─ GenderNeutral!Reader, Romantic!Stiles Stilinski X Reader

ᴄᴜʀʀᴇɴᴛʟʏ ᴜɴᴛɪᴛʟᴇᴅ ─ Fem!Reader, Athletic!Reader, Crushing!Kira Yukimura X Reader, Platonic!Allison Argent X Reader

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ᴛʜᴇ ᴏʀɪɢɪɴᴀʟs

ᴋᴇᴇᴘɪɴɢ ᴛᴀʙs ─ GenderNeutral!Reader, Platonic!Hayley Marshall X Reader

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ᴛʜᴇ sᴜɪᴛᴇ ʟɪғᴇ ᴏɴ ᴅᴇᴄᴋ

ᴅᴀᴛɪɴɢ ᴄᴏᴅʏ ᴍᴀʀᴛɪɴ ᴡᴏᴜʟᴅ ɪɴᴄʟᴜᴅᴇ . . . ─ GenderNeutral!Reader, Romantic!Cody Martin X Reader

ғᴀʙᴜʟᴏᴜsʟʏ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛʀʏ ─ Romantic!London Tipton X Bailey Pickett

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ᴛʜᴇ ᴠᴀᴍᴘɪʀᴇ ᴅɪᴀʀɪᴇs

ғʟᴜ-ʟɪᴋᴇ sʏᴍᴘᴛᴏᴍs ─ GenderNeutral!Reader, Crushing!Kai Parker X Reader

ᴛᴇᴀᴍ ᴇᴅᴅɪᴇ ᴏʀ ᴛᴇᴀᴍ ᴊᴀᴄᴋ? ─ GenderNeutral!Reader, Platonic!Stefan Salvatore X Reader

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ᴛʜᴇ ᴡᴀʟᴋɪɴɢ ᴅᴇᴀᴅ

ʜᴏᴘᴇʟᴇssʟʏ ʜᴏᴘᴇғᴜʟ ─ GenderNeutral!Reader, Romantic!Andrea X Reader

ᴄᴜʀʀᴇɴᴛʟʏ ᴜɴᴛɪᴛʟᴇᴅ ─ NSFW, Fem!Reader, Romantic!Tara Chambler X Reader

sɴᴇᴀᴋ ᴀᴛᴛᴀᴄᴋ ─ Fem!Reader, GreeneSister!Reader, Familial!Maggie Greene X Reader

ᴄᴜʀʀᴇɴᴛʟʏ ᴜɴᴛɪᴛʟᴇᴅ ─ GenderNeutral!Reader, Romantic!Carl Grimes X Reader

ʜᴀᴘᴘɪʟʏ ᴇᴠᴇʀ ᴀғᴛᴇʀ (ᴛʜᴇ ᴀᴘᴏᴄᴀʟʏᴘsᴇ) ─ Fem!Reader, AFAB!Reader, Pregnant!Reader, Romantic!Carl Grimes X Reader

ɴᴏᴛ ʏᴏᴜʀ ʙᴀʙʏ ─ Fem!Reader, Exes!Shane Walsh X Reader

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ᴠɪᴄᴛᴏʀɪᴏᴜs

ᴄᴜʀʀᴇɴᴛʟʏ ᴜɴᴛɪᴛʟᴇᴅ ─ GenderNeutral!Reader, Edgy!Reader, TechCrew!Reader, Singer!Reader, Romantic!Andre Harris X Reader

ᴊᴇɴɴʏ ᴏʀ ᴊᴀᴅᴇ? ─ GenderNeutral!Reader, Crushing!Jade West X Reader

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ᴡɪᴢᴀʀᴅs ᴏғ ᴡᴀᴠᴇʀʟʏ ᴘʟᴀᴄᴇ

ᴄᴜʀʀᴇɴᴛʟʏ ᴜɴᴛɪᴛʟᴇᴅ ─ Romantic!Alex Russo X Mason Greyback

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ᴡᴏʟғʙʟᴏᴏᴅ

ᴄᴜʀʀᴇɴᴛʟʏ ᴜɴᴛɪᴛʟᴇᴅ ─ NSFW, Fem!Reader, AFAB!Reader, Wolfblood!Reader, Biracial!Reader, Pregnant!Reader, Romantic!Rhydian Morris X Reader

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･｡ﾟ✧: *.✧ .* :✧.

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ᴍᴏᴠɪᴇs

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ᴅɪsɴᴇʏ's ᴅᴇsᴄᴇɴᴅᴀɴᴛs

ᴄʜᴀʀᴍɪɴɢ ᴛʜᴇ ʙᴇᴀsᴛ ─ Fem!Reader, Reader is Ben's Twin Sister, Romantic!Chad Charming X Reader

ʟɪᴋᴇ ᴍᴏᴛʜᴇʀ, ʟɪᴋᴇ ᴅᴀᴜɢʜᴛᴇʀ ─ Fem!Reader, Reader is the Queen of Hearts' Daughter, Girly!Reader, Crushing!Carlos de Vil X Reader

ʙᴇᴀᴜᴛɪғᴜʟ sᴏᴜʟ ─ Fem!Reader, Blind!Reader, Romantic!Jay X Reader

ᴡᴏᴀʜ, ɴᴇʟʟʏ! ─ Fem!Reader, Romantic!Jay X Reader

ᴄᴜʀʀᴇɴᴛʟʏ ᴜɴᴛɪᴛʟᴇᴅ ─ Fem!Reader, Romantic!Jay X Reader

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ɢʀᴇᴀsᴇ

ɴᴏɴᴇ ᴀᴛ ᴛʜᴇ ᴍᴏᴍᴇɴᴛ ─ Please send in requests!

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ʜᴀʀʀʏ ᴘᴏᴛᴛᴇʀ

ᴀʀᴛᴇ ғᴀᴄᴛ ─ Fem!Reader, Hufflepuff!Reader, Romantic!Cedric Diggory X Reader

ᴘɪᴇᴄᴇ ʙʏ ᴘɪᴇᴄᴇ: ᴀ sᴇʀɪᴇs ─ GenderNeutral!Reader, Slytherin!Reader, GrangerSibling!Reader, EventualRomantic!Draco Malfoy X Reader

ɢᴀᴍᴇ ᴏғ ʟᴏᴠᴇ ─ GenderNeutral!Reader, Crushing!Cormac McLaggen X Reader

ᴋɪɴᴅʀᴇᴅ sᴏᴜʟs ─ GenderNeutral!Reader, Romantic!George Weasley X Reader

ʜᴇᴀʀᴛ ᴇʏᴇs ─ GenderNeutral!Reader, Crushing!Ron Weasley X Reader

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ʜɪɢʜ sᴄʜᴏᴏʟ ᴍᴜsɪᴄᴀʟ

ᴛʜᴇ ʙᴇᴛᴛᴇʀ ᴍᴏɴᴛᴇᴢ ─ Fem!Reader, MontezSister!Reader, Crushing!Sharpay Evans X Reader

sᴘʀɪɴɢ ʜᴀs sᴘʀᴜɴɢ ─ GenderNeutral!Reader, Romantic!Kelsi Nielsen X Reader

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ʟᴇᴍᴏɴᴀᴅᴇ ᴍᴏᴜᴛʜ

ᴄᴜʀʀᴇɴᴛʟʏ ᴜɴᴛɪᴛʟᴇᴅ ─ Fem!Reader, Crushing!Olivia White X Reader

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ɴᴏᴡ ʏᴏᴜ sᴇᴇ ᴍᴇ

ᴍᴀɢɪᴄ ᴍɪsᴛʟᴇᴛᴏᴇ ─ GenderNeutral!Reader, Platonic!Horsemen X Reader

ᴏɴ ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴋɴᴇᴇs ─ NSFW, GenderNeutral!Reader, AFAB!Reader, Dominant!Reader, Romantic!Jack Wilder X Reader

ᴄᴜʀʀᴇɴᴛʟʏ ᴜɴᴛɪᴛʟᴇᴅ ─ GenderNeutral!Reader, Romantic!Jack Wilder X Reader

‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎

ᴘɪᴛᴄʜ ᴘᴇʀғᴇᴄᴛ

ᴄᴜʀʀᴇɴᴛʟʏ ᴜɴᴛɪᴛʟᴇᴅ ─ GenderNeutral!Reader, Romantic!Cynthia-Rose Adams X Reader

ᴅᴀᴛɪɴɢ ᴛʜᴇ ʙᴇʟʟᴀs ᴄᴀᴘᴛᴀɪɴs ᴡᴏᴜʟᴅ ɪɴᴄʟᴜᴅᴇ . . . ─ GenderNeutral!Reader, Poly!Aubrey Posen X Chloe Beale X Reader

ᴄᴜʀʀᴇɴᴛʟʏ ᴜɴᴛɪᴛʟᴇᴅ ─ GenderNeutral!Reader, Romantic!Fat Amy X Reader

ᴅᴏᴡɴ ᴜɴᴅᴇʀ ─ Fem!Reader, MusicProducer!Reader, Singer!Reader, Reader is Fat Amy's cousin from Australia, Romantic!Emily Junk X Reader

ʜᴏɴᴇʏ ᴛᴇᴀ ─ GenderNeutral!Reader, Bellas!Reader Crushing!Aubrey Posen X Reader

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ᴛᴇᴇɴ ʙᴇᴀᴄʜ ᴍᴏᴠɪᴇ

ᴄᴜʀʀᴇɴᴛʟʏ ᴜɴᴛɪᴛʟᴇᴅ ─ Romantic!Brady X Butchy

ᴅᴀᴛɪɴɢ ʙʀᴀᴅʏ ᴡᴏᴜʟᴅ ɪɴᴄʟᴜᴅᴇ . . . ─ GenderNeutral!Reader, Romantic!Brady X Reader

ᴅᴀᴛɪɴɢ ʙᴜᴛᴄʜʏ ᴡᴏᴜʟᴅ ɪɴᴄʟᴜᴅᴇ . . . ─ GenderNeutral!Reader, Romantic!Butchy X Reader

ɢɪʀʟs ʟɪᴋᴇ ɢɪʀʟs ʟɪᴋᴇ ᴍᴇ ─ Fem!Reader, Crushing!Lela X Reader

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ᴛʜᴇ ᴄʜʀᴏɴɪᴄʟᴇs ᴏғ ɴᴀʀɴɪᴀ

ᴄᴜʀʀᴇɴᴛʟʏ ᴜɴᴛɪᴛʟᴇᴅ ─ Fem!Reader, Love Triangle with Edmund Pevensie, Caspian X, & Reader, Romantic!Edmund Pevensie X Reader, Romantic!Caspian X Reader

ғʟᴀᴛᴛᴇʀʏ ɢᴇᴛs ʏᴏᴜ ɴᴏᴡʜᴇʀᴇ ─ Fem!Reader, Romantic!Edmund Pevensie X Reader

ɴᴀʀɴɪᴀɴ ᴄʀᴜsʜᴇs ─ Fem!Reader, Crushing!Peter Pevensie X Reader

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ᴛʜᴇ ʜᴜɴɢᴇʀ ɢᴀᴍᴇs

sᴋɪᴛᴛɪsʜ ─ Fem!Reader, Crushing!Marvel X Reader

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ᴛʜᴇ ᴍᴀᴢᴇ ʀᴜɴɴᴇʀ

ғʀᴇᴇ ─ Fem!Reader, Romantic!Winston X Reader

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ᴛʜᴇ ᴛᴡɪʟɪɢʜᴛ sᴀɢᴀ

ᴄᴜʀʀᴇɴᴛʟʏ ᴜɴᴛɪᴛʟᴇᴅ ─ Fem!Reader, Vampire!Reader, Mates!Riley Biers X Reader

ᴅᴀᴛɪɴɢ ᴊᴀsᴘᴇʀ ʜᴀʟᴇ ᴡᴏᴜʟᴅ ɪɴᴄʟᴜᴅᴇ . . . ─ GenderNeutral!Reader, Romantic!Jasper Hale X Reader

ᴏᴜʀ ɴᴇᴡᴇsᴛ ᴠᴇɢᴇᴛᴀʀɪᴀɴ ─ Fem!Reader, NewbornVampire!Reader, Mates!Jasper Hale X Reader

sᴛᴇᴀᴋ ᴀɴᴅ ᴄᴏʙʙʟᴇʀ ─ GenderNeutral!Reader, Romantic!Charlie Swan X Reader

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✧─── ･｡ﾟ✧: *.✧ .* :✧. ───✧

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ᴜᴘᴅᴀᴛᴇᴅ ᴏɴ: August 5, 2022

*Listed in alphabetical order by the first letter of Series and then by first letter of the characters included in the imagines.

#imagines #fanfictions #imagine #in-progress #smut #fluff #what i'm writing #requests #requests are open!#love you all :)

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ceruleanmusings · 3 years

Text

First and Foremost

Fandom: Big Time Rush Pairing: James Diamond x Mickey Mason (OC) Word Count: 5.7k Summary: Mickey goes to cheer James up after a brutal verbal beating by Gustavo. Contents: mild flirting, teasing, show-standard humor, sadness Tag: @mystic-scripture @foxesandmagic @witchofinterest @perhapspearl @raging-violets @lareiism @ocfairygodmother @ocappreciationtag

The bright orange vinyl began sticking to his cheek, trapping his heavy sighs against his warm skin but James didn’t care. Why should he care? It wasn’t as if he had a modeling gig to run off to so the inevitable red line pressing into his cheek could stay. It wasn’t as if he had an acting gig to prepare for so he could continue to lay flopped on the couch, feet dangling off the edge, wrinkling his clothes. It wasn’t as if he had a solo moment in a song to rehearse for so he could let his throat roll an agonized vocalization around in his chest.

He'd left Rocque Records hours ago and yet he still heard Gustavo’s shouts echoing in his head: “Stop smiling like that, I hate it!”, “A garbage disposal has better timing than you!”, “I could replace you with a mop and it wouldn’t make any difference!”, and his favorite, “Okay, do it again, but this time, SING ACTUAL NOTES!”

Clearly, Gustavo was wrong. …He had way better hair than a mop so, actually, it would make a difference!

James uttered another body wrenching sigh.

It just wasn’t fair. He spent so much time rehearsing, getting his vocals warmed up, loosening his muscles to better execute dance moves. He put his all into being a pop star! Okay, sometimes he could get distracted by the lights and the glitz and glamor but who wouldn’t? Pretty people wanted to dress him, sculpt his hair, perfect his image (not that they had to do much on that front), have them joint their ranks, put him in the spotlight where he belonged. Why was it a bad thing? When it came down to it, he wanted this. He always wanted this!

Kendall, Carlos, and Logan didn’t get it. He loved his buds, but that didn’t mean he didn’t see their eye rolls, hear their scoffs, or feel their dismissive aside glances when he talked about a potential modelling job or how he was, in fact, the best person to lead a song (or sing the whole thing, why split hairs?), or when he shared his dream of buying a house to turn it into a personal salon/display museum for his bandanas. (It makes sense to keep it all in one place!)

All he was trying to do was make his dreams a reality. It wasn’t as if he was pushing his buds off a cliff to get there. It’d happen eventually. It was inevitable. (The recognition, not the cliff-pushing.) He had the face, he had the voice, he had the talent, he had the body, he had the face. He was born for this life. He was meant to be doing this!

But no one else seemed to notice.

Groaning, James turned onto his side, tucked his arm beneath his head and curled his knees up to his chest. If Katie were around, she’d point and laugh at him, maybe say he was being a big baby or some other phrase with big words he didn’t understand. Thankfully she, the guys, and Mama Knight were off at an LA Kings game. He’d been looking forward to the game for weeks but going didn’t appeal to him after the day he had. He’d taken enough hits to watch other people get tossed around like a ragdoll.

Sometime later he heard the distinct sound of someone climbing the stairs to get to the swirly slide entrance and yet he still didn’t move. Instead, he watched dust motes float and around the shafts of gold light seeping in through the blinds.

“Hey, it’s just me.” Ordinarily James would’ve jumped up at the sound of Mickey’s voice, double-checking his reflection in his lucky pocket mirror to ensure he was presentable and his muscles were at their peak. He couldn’t let her see him at anything other than his best. He was James Diamond! He didn’t do mediocre! This time, though, he stayed still, listening as she came down the swirly slide, the rubber on her docs tapping against the ground on her dismount. It was the only time she didn’t knock before entering. The door was always open, and people came and went as they pleased, but not Mickey. She made sure to knock every time. It was polite, she explained, looking at them all as if they’d been raised by wolves.

He mentally followed her footsteps—always with that cute little bounce to it—around the back of the couch heading to the island until she came into view. She dressed comfortably as always: dread locks pulled back into a half updo with gold rings and cuffs, her favorite cropped white *NSYNC hoodie depicting the image of their first album cover, dark skinny jeans, pale blue docs and a makeup-free face. She never wore makeup except for occasions where it called for it such as appearances, interviews, and photoshoots. James never thought she needed it.

“I’m just picking up my Tupp…er…ware…” He watched as Mickey’s eyebrows collided and she leaned to the side, peering at him as if she didn’t recognize him on the couch. He didn’t blame her; he was sure he wouldn’t recognize himself if he could see himself right now. “James? Are you okay?” she asked, taking a few steps closer, tucking a lock behind her ear.

James’ lips pushed out another sigh. “I’m sad,” he replied. No sense in hiding the obvious. His lower lip already dropped to a pout upon uttering the words and he couldn’t fight the wave washing over him, dragging his mood further (if that were possible).

Shoving her hands into the front of her pockets she approached. “’Cause of Gustavo?”

“Yeah.”

“And?”

He blinked. “That’s it.”

Her eyebrow arched. “No it’s not. I can see it all over your pretty face.” Sliding a hand out her pocket, she wiggled a pointed finger at him, motioning in circles around his face.

“Hmph. At least you think it’s pretty,” he mumbled.

She sat on the floor in front of the couch, turning her knees to the side, propping her elbow on the cushion and her cheek on her fist while turning to him. He looked back at her, taking in her freckle dotted nose. Her dark eyes squinted for a moment, mimicking the small pull to her mouth until they both relaxed. “What’s up? Besides the Gustavo part. I was wearing soundproof headphones while recording my bass lines today—I still heard him through it. And while that sucked, I know that’s not the only issue.”

“Maybe I just wanted to be alone.”

“James, you can’t go an elevator ride without needing someone to talk to.” Her mouth quirked in the corner, bolstering the tease to her words. He managed a small smile. “Speaking of which. Where are the guys?”

“They went to a Kings game.”

“Are you meeting them there?”

“I didn’t want to go.”

Her eyes widened, dark brown lighting to reflect her surprise. “You didn’t want to go to a King’s game?”

James twisted his mouth to the side, shrugging. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to go. Of course he wanted to go. Everything about hockey appealed to him: the crisp air filling his lungs, the crackling excitement plucking his energized nerves, the sharp snap of wood smacking against rubber, the scuffing of sharp blades on the ice, the cold adding a natural blush to his cheeks, the hot girls dressed in jerseys, the warm nacho cheese sliding down his throat, the way the bright lights lit him on his good side (both of them). But, even with the Kings and Ducks matchup, it wasn’t enough to get him off the couch.

“Well, what about hanging by the pool? It’s Golden Hour.” She reached out and poked his cheek. “Your favorite time of day.”

That was true. Nothing made his selfies better than the effect of a filter without actually having to use one. He thought about it for a second, shook his head, and sighed again. “I don’t feel like it.”

“Wow.” Her lashes fluttered due to her rapid blinking. A hum sounded behind her turned down mouth and she reached out, squeezing his knee. He felt a tug somewhere in the pit of his stomach at her touch, like a cork easing its way out of a bottle. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“No.” Silence. Then: “It just doesn’t make sense!” And it all came pouring out, the frustrations and grievances. Not just from that day but from the past year and a half, from the start of it all. How they didn’t want him, they wanted Kendall. How no matter how hard he tried it wasn’t good enough. How, even though he had the talent, and knew it in his bones, it didn’t match the “fire” they looked for. How he was dragged along to form a group in a business he’d always dreamed of being in. How he was constantly shuttled back and forth between his parents, passed along like a discarded accessory. How he was overlooked time and time again (which he still wasn’t even sure how that was possible with his height and face and style.) How he was dismissed and taken as being “dramatic” when he opted not to go to the Kings game.

It was that feeling, the want—or lack thereof—which kept him glued to the couch. It seemed everyone could direct it towards anyone and anything else but him. No one chose him. No one wanted him.

The entire time he spoke Mickey stayed quiet save for the occasional hums to accompany her head nods. By the end she offered up a clicking tsk and a welcomed, “Aww, dude, I’m sorry you had to deal with all that.” She looked at him and he looked right back, wondering for a minute if they were having some sort of staring contest until he got cross-eyed and had to blink. Her shoulders shook with a quiet laugh, lips curling upwards in the corners. Silence stretched between them. James’s eyes widened slightly, taking on a pointed look.

“Is that it?” James finally prompted.

“Is what it?”

“Is that all you have to say?”

“…Yeah.”

“You’re not going to tell me I’m being dramatic? You’re not going to give me some advice? You’re not going to give me some pep talk?”

Mickey snorted. “And what kind of advice could I give you? To just get over it?” James nodded rapidly. “You’re upset. Telling you to get over it won’t change that. Besides, I get it.”

“You do?”

“That feeling you have to work twice as hard just to get the recognition you feel you rightfully deserve only to be overlooked?” She let out a little bitter laugh, twisting the end of one of her dreads around her finger. “Yeah. I know that feeling a little too well; life made sure of it.” A second later her eyes widened and then squinted, as if seeing something in the distance. Her eyebrows furrowed and she clicked her tongue. In a flash, she got off the floor and James watched her make quick strides to the door, opening it with a flourish only to pull it shut behind her. He stared at the swinging jackets hanging off the key shaped holder, an incredulous expression popping onto his face.

“Well thanks for the talk, Mickey! I feel so much better!” James called out to the closed door. He rolled onto his back, unfurling his legs, staring up at the tall ceiling. Geeze, first Gustavo, then his buds, and now Mickey. He thought people cared about him but clearly he was wrong! Why did he even like her in the first place?

A knock sounded on the door. Uncurling himself, James sat up, head tilting in curiosity. A second later the door opened, and a sheepish Mickey stepped through it. “Forgot, I don’t need to knock for myself,” she muttered, rubbing her palms down the legs of her jeans.

Nevermind, she came back. He liked her again.

She drummed her fingers against her thighs and then headed for the kitchen. “I’m thirsty. Do you want a juice box?”

James’s head bobbed from side to side. Now that his chest didn’t feel as if it would cave in, it felt “Yeah, I could go for one.” She pulled one from the fridge and tossed it to him. He easily caught it with one hand as he swung his legs down from the couch, settling on the middle cushion facing the tv. He popped off the straw and stabbed it through the foil-covered hole on top. He didn’t pretend it was Gustavo’s face beneath the straw. Not at all. He took a long pull of the watermelon flavored drink and swallowed. It helped, but only a little.

He watched as Mickey closed the refrigerator and started opening and closing a few cabinets. She pulled a few bowls out of one and set them on the counter and then pulled open a few drawers, taking out measuring cups and spoons and knives.

“What are you doing?” he asked.

“Well, there’s really no point in bringing back Tupperware that’s empty is there?” She asked, eyebrows lifting. “It’s downright blasphemy.”

His stomach quivered at that. Food? She was making food? As much as a small part of him still wanted nachos from the Staples Center, he could trade it for whatever she made. If magic existed, she possessed it with how good her food turned out. Not that Mama Knight’s wasn’t a great cook herself, nothing beat her cheesy potato soup or Fishstick Fridays or her amazing snickerdoodles, Mickey just tended to make more on the dessert side. And while his body was a temple and he treated it right, sometimes the temple wanted a big fat slice of pie. To please the Gods. (Him, James was the God. No matter how much Logan disagreed, the peasant).

“What are you making? Can I have some?”

“It’s a surprise but sure. It’s gonna take me some time, though.”

James reeled in his pout and protest, as much as he hated having to wait history showed it tended to be worth it. Shifting off the couch, he opened the cabinet beneath the tv and looked at the array of DVDs staring back at him. He bypassed his usual go-tos—Die Hard, Bring it On, the Entourage series, Fast and Furious, Step Brothers, Zoolander, Marley & Me—stopping at the smaller cases on the end, holding white discs with Mama Knight’s handwriting scrawled over the surface depicting dates from a few years back. James shuffled through the cases as if they were a deck of cards, stopping on one he remembered from freshman year, near the end of the season.

The Meadowlark High Coyotes were 7-9; they needed to win at least four more games to make it to the playoffs before their season was cut short. They were down by three points at 4-6 against Willow Grove High’s Rams with ten minutes left. Kendall had been benched for fighting after getting his face smashed into the plexiglass on a breakaway (it was a cheap hit). Carlos was ejected for leaving goal to bum rush the player who executed the hit, trying to pants him. And Logan sat on the bench, his nose buried in his roster book, scribbling away, making notes for the coach to review after the game. That left him the lone wingman to turn the tide on a penalty shot and any scoring chance he obtained afterwards. Yes there was another wingman, but he may as well not have been on the ice with James taking the lead.

He popped it into the DVD player and fell back into the memory of the day, sank into the swell of cheers, the shrill whistles, the thudding beat of his heart in his ears, the rush as he glided over the ice, carrying the puck to the goal shot after shot after shot. And the chanting, oh the chanting, it may as well have been tattooed on his heart: Dia-mond, Dia-mond, Dia-mond! Only his stick slapping against the puck broke the cheering. Crack! Crack! Crack! James rushed the goal and sent the puck sailing through the air, nestling in the top right and left corners of the net, lighting the lamp. The crowd went wild. His team rushed the ice, lifting him up in the air as sirens and whistles went off.

James paused on the zoom on his face, the light in his eyes and the flush on his cheeks. Someone had yanked off his helmet so they could ruffle his sweaty hair, which still looked good compared to the others, thank you very much. (Helmet hair was not something he ever had to combat, he made sure of it.)

They won. They chose him and he won. When he was picked, they all succeeded. That was the point.

He scanned backwards, watching the play in reverse, pressed play, and watched their victory unfold. Again. And again. And again. Forward, back, forward, back. Shoot, score, repeat. Every watch brought back another shot of exhilaration, another round of satisfaction pulsing through his veins. Gustavo had drained that feeling right out of him.

“What’re you watching?” Mickey’s head hung next to his as she leaned over the back of the couch. “Is that you? Oh, you were all so teeny!”

James pouted. He wasn’t teeny. Yeah, he was a couple years younger than now and had a bit of a rounder face but all the days playing hockey he’d shed his childhood weight. And he’d hit his growth spurt, so he was already taller than the guys in their class. Despite the slight sting of the comment, he answered, “Freshman year hockey game. Against our rivals, the Rams.”

“Did you win?”

James scoffed. “Of course we did!” Big Time Rush didn’t lose. Once they all joined the team, they were a force to be reckoned with. “All thanks to me, even. Kendall and the guys were benched for ‘unsportsmanlike behavior’.” His finger quotes stabbed the air as he rolled his eyes.

“Why? What’d they do?”

“Watch.” Within a few seconds the scene unfolded again: Kendall on a breakaway, for all intents and purposes prime for a good shot. Then someone from the other team bashed into him, clearly committing a foul. Kendall bounced off the plexiglass as sharp whistles and booing jeers filled the air. Cheeks red, either due to the cold or anger, Kendall threw down his stick and gloves, whipped off his helmet, and charged for a Ram. He managed a hit on one before two Rams came up, grabbed him, threw him into the plexiglass again, and squished his face against it, dragging it from side to side. Mickey sucked a hissing breath in between her teeth, face scrunching up to a look of pain.

“That looked like it hurt.”

“Hurt worse when the guy wasn’t even called for it—the refs were from their town,” James explained at the look of disbelief crossing her face. “But I get the penalty shot and score more goals to clinch the win for us.”

“Bet that felt good.”

He shrugged. Good wasn’t the right word. Amazing wasn’t the right word. He didn’t think a word existed to properly encompass how that day felt. He paused the video and scanned it backwards again, his thumb hovering over the play button as his eyes took in their reflections on the tv screen. Namely how close she leaned to his head. Turning to her, he eyed her close-up profile. “If you wanted to kiss me, you could just say so,” James said with a flirtatious smile. Motioning to her with the remote he added, “You don’t have to come up with an excuse to get close.”

Her head tilted to the side, her studying him this time. “Would it make you feel better?”

He blinked. Uh…what? That wasn’t what she was supposed to say. That wasn’t how things went with them. He’d flirt, she’d rebuff him, he’d try again later. That’s how their friendship worked, among both agreeing blue was, in fact, a flavor (suck it, Logan!), her helping him with English homework while he helped her with vocal work, taking trips to the farmer’s market for fresh ingredients (her for her cooking, him for his organic, clean, homemade facial mask), and splitting the s’mores skillet at Fun Burger on his cheat day. Not that he didn’t like this turn of events, he wasn’t stupid. Okay, so he wasn’t the brightest bulb in the spotlight, but he wasn’t that stupid.

Still, he shook his head and pinched his arm to be sure this wasn’t some sort of dream, that she had, in fact, asked if kissing him would make him feel better. His fingers pressed into his skin and a pinch of pain shot up his arm. His eyes widened. He was definitely awake!

“Uh…sure?” He mentally admonished himself, hearing how unsure he sounded. Who talked like that? Not him, that’s for sure. He was much cooler than that. He cleared his throat, deepened his voice, turned his eyes to smolder, and said, “I mean, yeah. We could give it a shot.”

“Okay, close your eyes.”

He did as he was told, eyes slamming shut. James’ chest swelled and relaxed as he took in and let out a long breath. Not that he was nervous. He’d kissed plenty of girls before. Hell, once he’d kissed three girls in a half hour (thank you spin the bottle!) So this was nothing to worry about. No big deal. It’s just Mickey. Just the girl he’d been into for the past year. His palms sweating had nothing to do with it, that happened sometimes. Not a lot. Okay, never. Not when it came to kissing girls. So it had to be some sort of new medical condition he’d need to get looked at. Along with the shaking. And his heart thudding against his chest. He made a mental note to get that looked at too.

He felt her hovering in front of him, close enough for that strange sensation to itch and curl beneath his skin, anticipation cracking like a livewire. A strong swoop lurched in his stomach when she asked “Ready?”, so close he smelled something sweet on her breath. Vanilla? A lock of her hair brushed against the side of his face, sending a shot of something pleasant down his spine.

He nodded, swiping his tongue against his bottom lip. (Not too wet, not too dry. Couldn’t have her thinking his lips were like sandpaper.) Breath? He thought back. Last thing he ate were a few ants-on-a-log back at the studio. Peanut Butter wasn’t what he’d go with, but it would do in a pinch.

Okay. You’re James Diamond! You’re in a world-famous band! You have great hair! You have great style! You have great lips! They’re perfectly pouty and pink and fantastic. It’s just a kiss. You can do this. Annnd….go!

James leaned forward, pursing his lips. Something touched his lips. His eyebrows lowered. Huh, her lips were a lot colder than he’d imagined. Just as smooth, though. And a little…pointy? What? Before he could react, something gave way and shot between his teeth, heading to the back of his throat. He coughed, the object shooting forward, bouncing on his tongue.

His eyes popped open, granting him the sight of Mickey and her shit-eating grin. His tongue rolled the object around in his mouth, smooth on all sides except for one point. A rush of chocolate swarmed his taste buds. A Hersehey’s kiss. He blinked, staring up at her.

“Did the Earth move for ya, honey?” she asked sweetly, her soft southern accent igniting the teasing sparkle in her eyes.

“Very funny,” James grumbled, chewing the cold bit of chocolate into small pieces. It melted fast on his tongue. Pushing a hand through his hair, he flopped back against the couch, doing his best to avoid her gaze. But that smile, so bright and satisfied, drew him back in and he found his frown lifting upwards.

Still grinning, she dropped down on the couch next to him. He noticed the plate in her hands, the surface covered with an array of purple swirls and designs resting atop white sponge dotted with color.

Funfetti cupcakes. His favorite.

She was forgiven.

------

“She moves left, she moves right, she goes left again-oh! Fake out! She’s on a breakaway! There’s no one standing between her and the net! Will she make it?” With a lunge, Mickey slapped a pretzel rod against the Oreo in the middle of the table. James dropped to his knees, opening his mouth in time for the cookie to slide against the smooth surface, coast past his teeth, and land on his tongue. Goal! “She does! She scores! And the Missles are the table hockey champions of the world!” Throwing her arms into the air, Mickey danced a little victory jig, chomping the pretzel rod in her hand as if putting an exclamation point at the end of a sentence.

Chuckling, James chewed the Oreo. Ordinarily he would already be mentally preparing his routine at the gym the next day to counteract all the sugar he’d eaten but he could skip it for one day. Tossing his own pretzel rod onto the table—he wasn’t going to make an exception for sodium, not when bloat could set in—he stood, brushing any miniscule bit of dirt off his knees. “Why didn’t you go to the hockey game again?” he asked.

Mickey’s eyebrow arched and she waved her hand around the room, motioning to the table, the leftover cupcakes sitting on the kitchen counter, and Bring it On playing on the tv in the background “And miss out on all this fun?” She winked and took another bite of the pretzel rod. “Not a chance.”

James smiled, a rush of warmth spreading through him.

The door burst open; Carlos, Kendall, and Logan rushed in, hooting, and hollering, waving towels and hats in a flurry. Katie and Jennifer entered behind them, wearing identical expressions, half of amusement and half of wariness.

“Hey guys,” Mickey greeted them, walking around the table. “How was the game?” Her answer came as a wall of sound when Kendall, Carlos, and Logan screamed in her face. Blinking rapidly, she wiggled a finger in her ear as she leaned away from them. “That good, huh?”

“It was awesome!” Carlos shouted. “First the Ducks were in the lead and then the Kings caught up to them but then the Ducks were in the lead again! And during the ice cleanings Bailey and Wild Wing came out and got into a shootout. And then they played musical chairs which is silly, you know, because why would animals need to sit on chairs—ooh! Cupcakes!” Breaking off, he made a dashing dive for the kitchen counter.

“Those are mine!” James shouted, making Carlos freeze with a cupcake halfway to his mouth. A whimpering sound fell out of his mouth as he looked back and forth between James and the cupcake.

“Be nice, there’s enough for them to have one,” Mickey said, rubbing James’s arm. “Go ahead, Carlos.” She barely finished her sentence when Carlos stuffed it into his mouth, paper still attached.

“Dude.” Kendall bumped James on the arm with the back of his hand. “We had to keep Carlos from tackling Bailey the lion for thumping Wild Wing’s bill in the stands. Could’ve used you to hold him back.”

“Is that the only reason?” James asked.

Kendall scoffed. “Of course not! I had no one else to cringe with when they messed up the National Anthem. You weren’t there to list off every stat for the Kings or the Ducks—down to what conditioner they most likely used.” James pushed a laugh out of his nose. “After the game ended, they let us skate around for a bit. T’somethin’ I always dreamed about, skating one of the biggest NHL rinks. Wasn’t the same without my wingman there to catch my passes without fail.” He shoved his hands into his pockets. “We’re sorry we didn’t take your feelings seriously. Gustavo was rough on you today. We should’ve stayed with you, made sure you were okay.”

“You didn’t think I was being overdramatic?”

“Oh no, we totally did,” Kendall said, making James roll his eyes, “but halfway through the game I remembered that you get like that when it comes to things that are important to you. And it’s not fair for me, for us, to push that aside. So I’m sorry. We cool?” He extended his hand,

“We’re cool. You know I can’t stay mad at my bud,” James replied, clasping Kendall’s hand to pull him into a quick hug.

“And on that note, it’s time for me to go,” Mickey said, squeezing past them. Clutched in her hands were two Tupperware containers filled with cupcakes. “Are you feeling better?” Kendall’s eyes quickly ping-ponged between the two; he mumbled something about needing to polish his hockey puck and backed away.

James’ mind quickly scanned through a list of things he could say to keep her around a little longer. He came up with nothing. “I am, yeah,” James admitted. “Thanks for sticking around and keeping me company, Mickey.”

“Any time. If you ever want a rematch against the Missles, you know where to find me. We’ll be ready for you Diamondheads.” Leaning past James, she called out “see you, guys!” only to get distracted hand waves back from Kendall, Carlos, Logan, and Katie as they watched the game highlight on the news. She shrugged. “See ya, James,” she said, quickly tilting her fingers at him in a rippling wave.

He waved back, watching as she left the apartment. The door closed with a soft click. James turned on his heel only to stop in his tracks, noticing every pair of eyes in the room pointed on him. Eyebrows crinkling, his head tilted to the side. Usually he deserved attention, basked in it even, but he wasn’t sure what he did to get it this time. “What?” he finally asked.

“You were here with Mickey alone all afternoon,” Kendall said. “What happened?”

James shrugged, approaching the couch. “Nothing.”

“Nothing?”

“Nothing. We talked, watched some hockey, and messed around.”

“So you never hit on her?” Logan asked.

Kind of. “No, not really.” Hershey kiss substitutes didn’t count.

“Dude! This was your chance!” Carlos sprayed bits of uneaten cupcake out of his mouth as he shouted. Uttering a noise of disgust, Logan wiped the side of his face, shooting such a scathing look at Carlos it made him behind Katie. James laughed at the sight.

“Yeah, that’s not like you, James. Are you sure you’re feeling okay?” Kendall said.

“I’m feelin’ great, guys, really,” he assured them. “Gimmie another cupcake.” As he reached for the plate in Katie’s hand, he spotted something white under the pillow Kendall leaned against. He yanked it out with one strong pull. “Oh shoot,” he muttered. He got a series of asynchronous what?s answered him. “It’s Mickey’s sweatshirt. She forgot it.”

“Give it to her tomorrow. She’ll be at the studio,” Kendall pointed out.

James took in Kendall’s nonchalance with an incredulous shake of his head. He couldn’t do that. Well…he could but he couldn’t. Even if the built-in excuse for her to come back to the apartment was enticing, he wouldn’t feel right holding onto it. Not when he knew of her attachment to it, not just due to how soft and comfortable the sweatshirt was but to the band as well. When he thought about not having his Lucky Comb on him, even for a second, it sent shivers down his spine.

“No, I’ll just try and catch her at the elevator.” Clutching the sweatshirt tight in his hands, James dashed for the door. It barely opened far enough for him to fit through before he found himself out in the hall. He ran around a corner, nearly clipping it, slowing when he heard Mickeys’ voice.

“Thanks again for being so understanding. I know it was last minute…”

“Girl, it’s okay,” Jo said back. Hmm? James peered around the corner, spying Mickey and Jo standing in front of the elevator doors. She clutched a rolled-up script in her hand. “We can always go another day. It’s no big deal.”

“Thanks. James just looked so…defeated.” Mickey’s nose wrinkled. “It’s weird. I’ve never seen him like that before. I just…I didn’t want him to be alone.”

“I get it. I’m not going to be mad at you for being there for a friend,” Jo said, waving her hand in the air. “Buut…you’ll also be extra forgiven if I can have a cupcake.” Her eyebrows wiggled as she tapped a quick rhythm on the Tupperware lid.

Mickey laughed, popping the lid. “No problem.”

Jo eagerly dove for a cupcake, peeling the paper off halfway before taking a bite at the base of the treat. She brought a finger up to her mouth as she chewed, wiping away a stray smear of cream cheese frosting. “So…you must really like James to cancel going to that pie making class you’d been looking forward to for weeks.”

What!? James pressed his lips together, biting on them. The pulse of pain fell into sync with his rapid heartbeat. Jo’s lips curled in the corners and, beneath the hallway lighting, James swore he saw devil horns pop up on her head.

Mickey rolled her eyes. James squinted. Was that a blush on Mickey’s cheeks or a trick of the light? “Don’t even start with me, I gotta deal with all that at home.” The elevator dinged and the doors slid open. Mickey stepped backwards into the elevator, jabbing at a button with her elbow. “…And I don’t not like him. But don’t tell anyone that!”

Jo mimed zipping her lips. “Your secret’s safe with me.”

Swallowing the yelp fighting to shoot up his throat, James turned and headed back to 2J. He slipped into the apartment under the noise of aliens and troopers getting blown up in Biohazard 5 and Carlos’ jeers as he held his hand in front of Logan’s face.

“Did you catch her?” Kendall yelled over the noise, eyes glued to the tv.

“No, I missed her.” James made a beeline for the bedrooms, a soft smile sitting upon his lips. “I’ll see her tomorrow.”

#let me tell you i have a ball writing james' internal dialogue #james diamond #mickey mason #big time rush #big time rush oc #not beta read #my writings #mickames #first and foremost

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worstrper · 4 years

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stupid muselist

clark kent ( reeve films + kingdom come elseworlds )

davos seaworth ( a song of ice and fire )

gared tuttle ( telltale’s game of thrones )

homelander ( the boys tv series )

john doggett ( the x-files )

kendall knight ( big time rush )

maxwell lord ( dc extended universe )

reed strucker ( the gifted )

ren serizawa ( legendary pictures’ godzilla )

rip hunter ( dc’s legends of tomorrow )

rodrik forrester ( telltale’s game of thrones )

sam wilson ( marvel cinematic )

sunny ( into the badlands )

takeshi mimura ( OC ; bio here )

tony stark ( marvel cinematic - paramount films only* ) * tony’s characterisation will be consistent with IM1, IM2, avengers, and IM3 only, but i can adapt to the events of the disney MCU films as necessary.

i don’t have rules this whole blog is just a cosmic joke. just remember IC =/= OOC and we should be good to go. also this is a sideblog so i can’t follow people back byeeeeeeeeeeeeee

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smolbeandrabbles · 5 years

Text

OG Masterlist

All Reader Insert Unless Stated

Bloodline Danny Rayburn: Sway (Complete) Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4 / Part 5 / Part 6 / Part 7 / Part 8 / Part 9 / Part 10

Kiss Me Slowly / Sweet Spot

Glow / All I Want For Christmas (Holiday Fics)

--- Adore Harold: Cruel Summer / Magnets / The Next Best Australian Record / Illicit Affairs

Animal Kingdom Andrew ‘Pope’ Cody: Sirens / Fall Here / Flaws / Last Habit / Everybody Gonna Talk / Violet Skies / One Thing Right / 4 In The Morning / Trade Off / Innocence Begin Again (Request) ...Ready For It? - x OC Jealous Andrew / What Kind Of Boyfriend..? / How He Gets The Girl (Headcanons) Australia Emmett Dutton: When She Says Baby / Starlight / Living Proof / Hanging On DJ Got Us Fallin’ In Love (Modern!AU)

Baby It’s Cold Outside (Holiday Fic) Babyteeth Henry Finlay: You / Whisper Beautiful Kate Ned Kendall: Somewhere On A Beach / Play It Again

Come What May (Soulmate!AU) Black Sea Fraser: Quit Breaking Up With Me / Keep The Girl / Makin’ Waves / Hurry Baby / We Were Like Captain Marvel Talos / Director Keller: Science & Faith (Complete) - x OC Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4 / What I Never Knew I Always Wanted

Director Keller: Out Of Nowhere Girl (Discontinued) - x OC Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Still Don’t Let Me Forget / Breakfast in the Afternoon / When The Lights Go Out

364 Days To Go (Holiday Fic)

The Dark Knight Rises John Daggett: If I Didn’t Know Better / Nothing On But The Stars / Hungover in a Hotel Room Dress

Jay Arr

Darkest Hour George VI: How Did You Love (See sentence challenge below) (Platonic) Idiot Box Kev: Sober Saturday Night The King Henry IV: Hail To The King (Platonic) / Castle

Knowing Phil Beckman: End of the World This Kiss / Just Another Thing The Land of Steady Habits Anders Harris: Kiss You Paper Rings / Somebody to You

Marshmallow World (Holiday Fic) Lost River Dave: Speechless / Undisclosed Desires / Getaway Driver Mississippi Grind Gerry: Win Life / Double Rainbow

Somethin’ I’m Good At / You Kissed Me First Needle Detective Meares: Cheers To That / Don’t Call Me Angel The Outsider Ralph Anderson: Sure Be Cool If You Did / Bienvenue From Hell, Mon Amour / Made in the USA / Cold Night / I Could Not Ask For More / Thank you Muppets, No More Questions! / My Last Name Hold Me (In Your Arms) The Edges (request) Halfway Home / Control / How Not To - Shifter!Reader (Complete) Under The Weather (Holiday Fic)

Almost Maybes - x Jeannie (Book Canon)

The Place Beyond The Pines Robin Van Der Hook: Diamonds or Twine Part 1

Meet Up In The Middle Prime Mover Johnnie: End Up With You / My Oh My

Driving Home For Christmas (Holiday Fic)

Ready Player One Nolan Sorrento: Gioco Finito (Discontinued) - x OC Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4 Loser Like Me (Intern!Sorrento)

When The Wine Wears Off

Billion$ / The Other Side / Video Games / Money,Honey / Kiss Me Quiet (Requests)

Nolan Baby (Holiday Fic) Robin Hood (2018) Sheriff of Nottingham: Selfish (9/?) Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4 / Part 5 / Part 6 / Part 7 / Part 8 / Part 9

Young God Rogue One: A Star Wars Story Director Krennic: The First Time / The Hands I Hold

My Eyes / Champagne - x OC

Grace, Too (Request) I Think He Knows / Hero / Protector / I Know Places (Request Series - Complete)

Common Threads: Part 1 (StopMakingSensePodcast Collab AU) Secret Men’s Business Doug Peterson: Good Goodbyes

Slow West Payne: Nothing I’ve Ever Known Houston, We Got A Problem (Modern!AU) Spies in Disguise Killian / Tristan McFord: Mine / Blank Space / Feel Somethin’ / Glitter Makes People Happy / Fresh Start Fever

Penguin, James Penguin (Holiday Fic... kinda)

Dangerous Kind The Scientist - x OC Tangle Vince Kovac: The Honey / Back on Love / One Heart to Another / Chaser / Want to Want Me / Middle Distance Runner Love The Way You Love Me - x OC

Trespass Elias: Veritas / Spera Untogether Martin: Home Alone Tonight / Rumor (Track 1) Like You Say You Do / Get Even / Lover (Track 2)

I’ll Name The Dogs / Music (Track 3: Request Series) I’m a Girl (Request) Last Christmas (Holiday Fic) Vertical Limit Malcolm Bench: Yellin’ From The Rooftop / The Outdoor Type

Winter Night (Holiday Fic)

200 Follower Thank You! Multi-Mendo Preference - How They Propose

Request Challenges

7 Deadly Sins / 7 Heavenly Virtues (Complete)

Lust: Good Woman - Danny Rayburn x Reader Gluttony: Sugar - Nolan Sorrento x Reader Greed: Going ‘Round - Talos x Reader Sloth: Time Well Wasted - Anders Harris x Reader Wrath: Next Contestant - Director Krennic x Reader Envy: I Drive Your Truck - Robin Van Der Hook x Reader Pride: Favourite Scar - Andrew ‘Pope’ Cody x Reader

Chastity: All To Myself - Payne x Reader Temperance: Hide The Wine - Sheriff of Nottingham x Reader Charity: Most People Are Good - Captain Emmett Dutton x Reader Diligence: Moderation - Gerry x Reader Patience: Cross Me - Director Krennic x Reader Gratitude: This Is The First Thing / I Do Now - Director Krennic x Reader Humility: Almost Easy/Power & Control - Dave x Reader

100 Sentence Prompts Challenge (Complete) 2 & 94. Wide Awake - Orson Krennic x Reader 5, 18 & 31. How Did You Love - George VI & Reader (Platonic) 6. Stay Here Tonight - Gerry x Reader 15. Black Coffee - Nolan Sorrento x Reader 21. Faster Gun - Payne x Reader 27. Le Bien Qui Fait Mal - Dave x Reader 29. This Is What You Came For - Nolan Sorrento x Reader 42 & 84. Dare Ya - Gerry x Reader 43. Flatliner - Orson Krennic x Reader 47. Beat This Summer - Nolan Sorrento x Reader 65. Be Kind - Andrew ‘Pope’ Cody x Reader 72. When I See You Smile - Danny Rayburn x Reader 80. Trouble - Ralph Anderson & Reader (Platonic) 87. I Don’t Wanna Go To Bed - Director Keller x Reader 91. How Deep Is Your Love - Danny Rayburn x Reader 95. Try it On, Take it Off - Orson Krennic x Reader

---

Thank you for your Readership!

#Linzi Writes #Olderguysandcutiepies Masterlist #Masterlist #Smol Bean Drabbles

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joaquinwhorres · 3 years

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20 first lines

the marvelous @reggiemantleholdmyhand-tle tagged me and I'd like to tag @akabluekat + @hairringtonsteve since it involves re-reading more of your excellent writing.

Rules: List the first lines of your last 20 stories (if you have less than 20, just list them all!). See if there are any patterns. Choose your favorite opening line. Then tag 5 of your favorite authors!

Listed from most recent to least recent. I'm also only doing stories that have the potential of being series. They may be a one-shot right now, but they were written with more in mind. (* means WIP)

1. Bucky stood outside of the door, staring at the wreath of brightly colored fabric leaves, a small wooden sign hanging in the center with the words Give Thanks looping across it. - Blank Out (Bucky Barnes x Reader) // Meeting of Minds (Bucky Barnes x Mina Kaminski)

*2. Nora pinched the side of her thigh through her pocket - Post-Battle of Hogwarts AU (Lee Jordan x Nora Randolph)

3. Iris followed Pietro in through the back door, blowing it shut after her with a casual flick of her hand. - Playing House (Pietro Maximoff x Iris Tate, WandaVision)

4. Finals Week at Starfleet Academy was a glorious occasion. - Treacherous Waters (Leonard McCoy x Reader, AOS)

*5. It felt like her insides were collapsing. - Palm to Palm (Lee Jordan x Nora Randolph, Goblet of Fire)

*6. There was a ringing in her head. - Search and Recover (Bellamy Blake x Leta Cole - 100 AU)

*7. “You’re overreacting,” she said, punctuating the statement with a roll of her eyes. - Protective Custody (Diego Hargreeves x Francesca Vives-Soler)

8. They've been close since the academy. - The Dating Game (Diego Hargreeves x Reader)

*9. She knew from the minute she walked in to work that today was not going to be her day. - Under Covers (Clint Barton x Bobbi Morse)

10. The pounding on the door was seriously the last thing you needed right now. - Best of Friends (Bucky Barnes x Reader)

11. Being woken up by a Hufflepuff was undoubtedly the worst possible way to wake up. - The Fool (Fred Weasley x Wren Collings, Goblet of Fire)

*12. Her mother always warned her not to trust picket fences. - Picket Fences (Steve Rogers x Rosy Kovecky)

13. She had always known that the fieldwork would be hard—emotionally, academically, even physically. - Second Wind (Pietro Maximoff x Iris Tate, post-Age of Ultron)

14. Molly McKay rarely at breakfast at home. - Muscle Memory (Clint Barton x Molly McKay, post-Ultron)

15. Whenever she had pictured college, it always looked exactly like this. - Into the Rush (Kendall Knight x Autumn Mayes, Logan Mitchell x Jemima Yeung)

16. Nick Fury's secrets have secrets. - Parting Shot (Clint Barton x Molly McKay, post-Avengers)

*17. It started, as many of life's regrettable things do, during puberty. - Serious As They Come (Sirius Black x Florence Saise)

^ My favorite

* 18. “Don’t be mad,” Toni started, her fingers beginning to drum against the steering wheel. - Fresh Air (Sweet Pea x Reader, College AU)

19. You never had the luxury of a normal life. - Broken Wings (Billy Hargrove x Hopper!Reader)

20. If her friends ever got her to go to another party, it would be a miracle. - Careless Whisper (Steve Harrington x Reader)

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x oc #steve rogers x reader #lee jordan x oc #pietro maximoff x oc #leonard mccoy x reader #diego hargreeves x reader #diego hargreeves x oc #bellamy blake x oc #fred weasley x oc #clint barton x bobbi morse #kendall knight x oc #logan mitchell x oc #clint barton x oc #sirius black x oc #sweet pea x reader #billy hargrove x hopper!reader #steve harrington x reader #so many fics and only one of them on this list is finished

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joaquinwhorres · 6 years

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Into the Rush

Summary: You’ve been dreaming about your first college party since high school. But the asshole with the Eyebrows who’s apparently part of that teen boy band you never got into? Added bonus.

Pairing: Kendall Knight x Reader (slight Logan Mitchell x OC)

Word Count: 5,473

Author’s Note: I don’t even know what to say about it except for I’ve already have more, and I love Big Time Rush. P.S. If you mildly enjoy this, please message me or send an ask because I could use some validation.

Warnings: Underage drinking. Mentions of sex (between background characters)

There was nothing quite like being surrounded by a group of strangers.

Getting lost in the rowdiness of the crowd was exhilarating. You thrived on the energy, as if the rest of the time you weren't fully alive, weren't fully on.

The sentiment was cliche as shit, sure, but it didn't make the experience any less incredible.

And this party was fucking incredible.

A jolt of pain shot up your hand as your roommate tightened her grip, her fingers crushing yours with a surprising amount of force for someone of her stature.

If you had to guess, she didn't share your excitement.

You had only been here ten minutes, and it was already the second time she had caused you to lose feeling in the tips of your fingers.

"You ok?" you shouted back to her, wiggling your fingers in an effort to get her to relax her grip.

"I'm fine." She gave a fleeting, less than half-hearted smile, and you let your gaze narrow onto her. Her attention had already been pulled away though, eyes darting around the room as if she was cataloging every available exit and exactly what path she would need to take to get out.

"You're sure you're good to go back in there?" you gestured with your head to the living room which was even more crowded.

"Yeah," she nodded, and you looked at her for a second more before shoving your way past the other people swarming towards the kitchen island turned makeshift bar.

You paused as you reached the doorway to the living room, not just because too many people were coming into the kitchen and effectively blocking your way, but to enjoy the scene from the outside.

Whenever you had pictured college, it had always looked exactly like this.

Couples pressed against one another, hands roving and bodies colliding. Friends formed circles of various sizes to laugh and dance together and block out outsiders. Strangers stood feet apart, attempting to coax the other person to come closer, that they were worth it. The room was dotted with red solo cups and Keystone. You wanted in.

Unwilling to let another person bar your path, you spotted an opening and jumped towards it, tugging your roommate Behind you. A chorus of angry shouts followed behind you, but you couldn't give less of a shit even as your roommate mumbled apologies in your wake.

You pushed forward holding your cup ahead of you like a torch, guiding the pair of you through the crowd and closer to the makeshift stage a boy with dreadlocks was making his way through a Twenty One Pilots song.

You took a sip of your jungle juice, eyeing him up and letting your hips sway along, your roommate coming to stand next to you. While you should have expected parties in LA to be different from those in Philly, you hadn't considered the fact that people would take any opportunity to perform.

"This is great!" you shouted over to your roommate who stood, completely still, staring up at the performer. She jerked in surprise before turning to you.

"Yeah," she nodded again, and something about the motion hit you.

You furrowed your brow slightly, looking at her. "Is this your first party?" You tried to keep the incredulity out of your voice. Really, you did. But you could tell you failed as she flushed and looked away, her eyes landing on a couple that obviously couldn’t wait for a bedroom to open up. She turned an even brighter red and looked back at you. "Is it that obvious?" she mumbled, using her free hand to brush a lock of hair behind her ear. "You just need to relax a little," you shook your head with a smile.

She bit her lip, clutching her cup even tighter. You could have laughed at her. You did.

"Just start dancing. Have fun," you said, prying one of her hands off the cup and lacing it with yours, holding your hands up and forcing her to dance closer.

"I don't know," she protested, but the corner of her lips turned up a little bit and she began to twist.

"You don't know?" you echoed, before taking a long sip of your cup even as you continued to dance.

"I mean I want to have fun," she paused while you continued dancing. "I just…parties weren't really my thing…not that I didn't…I was busy in high school, and—"

"Hey," you laughed, shaking your head to stop her. "You don't need to make excuses, it's fine. Not everyone's a young delinquent like me." In all honesty, even though you had only met the girl twelve hours ago or so, you had been mildly surprised when she agreed to come out with you. She just had the "good girl" vibe about her. You attributed this to the fact that she had already bought all of her textbooks and had given you look of absolute terror when you walked into your room with four other girls from your floor.

Your roommate let out an exhale that could have been a relieved laugh. "Thanks. I promise I'm trying not to be so lame."

"I know I don't know you, but I have a feeling that you're totally not lame," you said, reassuringly. "But hey, cheers to your first party," you announced, holding out your cup. She tapped hers against yours, and both of you drank, you lifting your cup up completely and finishing half of your drink. She took a single small sip.

Baby steps.

It took half an hour for your roommate to relax enough to allow herself to dance.

It was another half hour before she would really dance with you.

For someone who didn't go out, you were shocked at how fluidly she was able to move–like the music was just a part of her, carrying her away from the crowded room and into another place completely.

For a little, you were convinced that she was just a lightweight and that the alcohol had kicked in and drowned out her worries. But when you chanced a glance into her cup, you couldn't help but notice that it was still two thirds full even though you were well into your second one.

As such, it was unsurprising that you really had to use the bathroom and she was completely fine.

"I'll come with you though," she offered, shouting over the new duo of girls who seemed to be trying to bring back pop punk.

You had opened your mouth to respond when your eyes fell over her shoulder, and you caught sight of a boy who stood a little ways back in the crowd. It wasn't so much that he was good looking—although he definitely was with his flattop and strong jaw and impressive taste in clothes–it was the look he was giving the back of your roommate's head. He stood slightly slack-jawed, his eyes glued to her even as someone waved a hand in front of his face.

Your gaze shifted back to your roommate who was looking expectantly at you. "Nah, it's fine," you waved a hand dismissively. "Just stay here so I can find you when I come back."

"Ok," she nodded hesitantly, and you turned to begin making your way to the back of the living room, towards the hallway that separated the bedrooms from the rest of the house.

The crowd was noticeably thinner back there, most seeming to prefer thronging the stage. So, as you made your way towards the closed door at the end of the hallway, you caught bits and pieces of people's conversations. You learned that Jay was here with that bitch Takiya and that Addison was wearing the same outfit here as she did to that party three weeks ago. As if no one would notice.

You rolled your eyes, taking a spot next to the boy who was already waiting next to the door. He glanced over to you out of the corner of his eye as he leaned his head back against the wall, staring up at the ceiling.

You returned the glance, eyes giving him a calculating once over. His blonde hair was swept up carelessly as if stuck that way from when he rolled out of bed, and he had the beginnings of a beard–more scruff than anything else. You couldn't decide if he was going for hipster or throwback to grunge with his dark jeans, black t-shirt, and open red plaid button up. Not bad.

You took a side step closer, and leaned back against the wall with him, waiting to see if he picked up a conversation.

He didn't.

You waited for a song and a half before you finally spoke up.

"This is the line for the bathroom, right? We're not just standing back here being a couple of antisocial hipsters?"

He snorted, looking over at you, and your eyes widened slightly as you got a good look at his face. It was objectively attractive. With his piercing gaze and the slightly bored look of someone who had nothing to prove. But his most noticeable feature–the surprisingly attractive one–were his dark, thick eyebrows. You had never found eyebrows attractive before, and you doubted you ever would after this moment. But still. Hot damn.

"Yeah." How he managed to pack so much derision into one word, you'd never know, but your body acted on instinct, your eyes rolling of their own accord.

"What?" he asked, pulling back a little to look at you.

"Sorry, that's just my natural reflex to a complete stranger giving me unnecessary amounts of sass."

"All I did was answer your question," he argued, his voice turning defensive.

"Yeah," you echoed his earlier tone, turning to look back out across the party and away from Eyebrows.

You hated it when cute boys turned out to be assholes.

Although you had to say that you were a little surprised he left it at that as opposed to insisting he win the confrontation. Instead, the two of you waited in silence song after song until the band finally announced that they were about to play their last song.

By this point, you were certain that if you had to wait another minute you were going to pee yourself. Right here and now.

"What is taking so long," you mumbled to yourself, Eyebrows startling a little as you walked past him to bang on the door.

"I would just wait." He sounded exasperated as he looked down at you. As if you had tried knocking on the door five times before and hadn’t just been waiting in silence for the past ten minutes.

“Yeah, not my thing,” you brushed him off, hitting your palm against the door. “Hey, come on, there are people out here waiting.”

There was no response, just the sound of the band moving into the chorus of "Stitches" which really was a better pop than punk song. “Hello?” you called, knocking again.

Again, nothing.

Your hand reached for the doorknob, and you felt it begin turn. "Did you seriously not even try to–" you were cut off mid-sentence as the door opened to reveal a couple int he middle of a moment. You pulled the door shut as quickly as possible as the boy behind you let out a bark of laughter.

"I told you to wait."

You glared back at him even as you banged on the door for the third time. "If it's taking this long, then you're not doing it right! There's a magical little spot that'll get it done, and if you can’t find it, stop taking up the bathroom and give up.”

The boy's eyes went wide and his mouth fell open.

You huffed. "I have to pee. I don’t have time for them to figure out erogenous zones.”

A high pitched moan and an uncomfortable guttural sound came through the door. A mutual feeling of revulsion swept through you both, and you had just recovered when the door behind you swung open and nearly nailed you in the back.

The couple shuffled past, Eyebrows following their progress with the ghost of disgust still on his face. You took the opportunity to slip into the bathroom.

"Hey!" he shouted quickly, throwing a hand onto the door to push it open.

"Yeah, I don't even know your name, so you're not coming in with me," you shook your head, pushing the door more closed. He flushed but didn't step away.

"I've been waiting for like twenty minutes. I have to go," he protested.

You winced sympathetically. "That really sucks," you commented before continuing to push the door closed. "Maybe next time you'll grow a pair and knock on the door." You put your full body weight against the door, finally hearing the telltale click and swiftly locking it before he could try to get in again.

He slapped his palm against the door. "Not cool!" his voice sounded through the wood. You just smiled as you reveled in your victory.

He honestly couldn't even complain that much. It took you all of four minutes to go to the bathroom, wash your hands, and unlock the door. "All yours," you announced, turning to the place where he had previously been standing, your eyes falling on two girls with obviously flat ironed blonde hair. Your brow furrowed as you quickly scanned the vicinity for him. He was nowhere in sight.

Confused, you headed back to your roommate, finding her in exactly the same spot you had left her.

And unfortunately alone.

"Hey!" she shouted over to you, handing back your cup of jungle juice. "Are you alright?"

"Yeah, why?"

"You've been gone a while," she commented, looking you over.

"I had to wait forever," you sighed, shaking your head a little. "There was a couple finishing up in the bathroom." You punctuated the sentence by taking a sip from your cup, watching as her face took on a look of disgust that almost rivaled Eyebrows'. You choked on your drink as you snorted.

"What?" she asked, defensively, and you shook your head, swallowing down your drink.

"Nothing, it was just the look on your face."

Her face morphed into something more unsure, and for a second you were left wondering if you said something wrong. It hit you that maybe you should have taken more time to get to know your new roommate. In your head, you had thought that getting drunk and hitting up your first college party together would be the perfect icebreaker. The alcohol would help ease the awkwardness of "get to know you" questions, and after a night of partying there was no way you'd come out without shared stories and inside jokes.

But looking at her, half a cup into her drink and still tenser than anyone else in this whole house, you were beginning to sense you had made a mistake.

"Talk to me, baby I'm going blind from this sweet-sweet craving, whoa-oh"

Your attention suddenly snapped to the new band up on the stage. "Holy shit," you swore, your eyes falling on the lead singer who was walking towards the crowd.

"Let's lose our minds and go fucking crazy Ah ya ya ya ya I keep on hoping we'll eat cake by the ocean."

You suddenly understood Eyebrows' desperation.

"That asshole can sing," you muttered, your eyes following him as he winked at a girl near the edge of the makeshift stage before turning around to sing with the boy who had been staring at your roommate.

It was your roommate's turn to look confused as her eyes flitted between you and Eyebrows and then back to you. "You don't know him? Them?" she corrected herself quickly.

"Should I?" you asked, drinking more of your jungle juice as you watched him move to stand next to a boy with tanned skin, wearing a blue and black striped t-shirt.

"That's Big Time Rush." Her voice sounded disbelieving as if there was no way on earth you wouldn't recognize Big Time Rush on sight.

"Oh," you shrugged, watching now as Eyebrows seemed to get lost in his own music, falling into perfectly synchronized dance steps with the other boys in the band.

"You've never heard of Big Time Rush?" she asked, looking at you as if you were crazy. You were starting to think you might be if she had heard of them and you hadn't.

"I mean, I knew they were a band, and I'd heard a few songs, but boy bands weren't really my thing."

"They had some pop hits," she defended so quickly that you took your eyes away from them long enough to smirk at her. She stumbled for the right words. "I–I mean. I'm just surprised they didn't play them at your parties."

"This wasn't the kind of music they played at my parties," you shook your head, looking back at the stage in time to see the brown-haired boy from the crowd catch sight of your roommate and stumble a step. You grinned as Eyebrows shot him a questioning look as the tall, thin fourth member subtly shook his head.

"So who's who?" you asked, stepping closer to her. "Like, who's that?" You pointed to the one who was attempting to brush off his mistake and get back into the song.

Your roommate flushed, "Um, that's Logan," she mumbled quickly. Before you could quiz her on the rest of their names or even ask why she was blushing so hard, the song ended and a familiar voice spoke over the mic.

"How we all doing tonight?" The crowd cheered in response, and you snorted, rolling your eyes. Why did every band insist on asking the audience how they were doing? As if between sets suddenly some emotional catastrophe had happened to the crowd.

"Better than you!" The words had left you before you really knew what you were doing, and your roommate's head snapped towards you.

Eyebrows looked out over the crowd as if trying to find the source of the voice before his eyes fell on you. You smirked and raised your eyebrows. To your surprise, he smirked as well.

"Just wait," he said, before pulling back to join the rest of the band. People in the crowd chuckled a little, as if unsure about what the appropriate response to the exchange was and waiting for him to move on. "It's gonna be a Big Night." There was a small cheer from the crowd at the announcement as the band launched into their next song, apparently an original since you didn't recognize it.

You listened to every song Big Time Rush played; from the covers to the originals which you vaguely remembered your gym teacher playing while he made you shoot baskets—probably in some misguided effort to be "hip."

The songs were pop-y and boy-band-y and you didn't particularly enjoy them, but the alcohol seemed to finally settle into you, a pleasant buzz coursing through your veins, urging you to dance along with the strangers who pressed in on you from all sides. And their songs were good for that.

You didn't leave the living room until the band did. Even then you waited another song before grabbing your roommate's hand and dragging her outside claiming that you needed some air.

And a third cup of jungle juice.

As you stepped out into the back patio, your eyes immediately fell onto large folding tables set up in the back where there seemed to be three different games of flip cup going on. A loud laugh and chants of "one more, one more, one more" caught your attention, and you turned to see a group of friends struggling to fit as many people as possible onto an old plaid sofa. The cheers as a twelfth person fit themselves on the couch almost drowned out the gentle strums of the acoustic guitar next to you.

"I love this song," your roommate murmured, turning to face the random dude with sunglasses and a man bun who was playing "Wonderwall" for a group of swaying girls. The two of you wandered over, and you were mostly successful at keeping your attention on him even when you noticed the four boys from Big Time Rush making their way outside and towards the flip cup table.

You were successful at ignoring them for the entirety of their first game, instead focusing on the guitar and the contents of your cup.

You only glanced over at them once during the second game when you heard someone scream "Just flip the fucking cup, Logan!" followed by an equally frantic "I am flipping!" and then shouts of victory.

It was when the opponents started begging Carter to stay for a redemption round that you finally broke and turned to completely face them. The sandyhaired muscular boy named Carter shook his head, scoffing at his friends as he allowed himself to be dragged away by a pretty brunette.

You were already halfway to the table before the boy with the backwards baseball cap (who had been trying the hardest to keep Carter there) looked out across the yard. "Yo, anyone want to play?"

"I'll play," you volunteered, jerking your head up as he looked over at you. You gave a small half smile at the sight of Eyebrows straightening up at the sight of you. Next to him, Logan's eyes shot over your shoulder. Your roommate must have followed you over.

"You know the rules?" the baseball cap boy asked.

"Yeah…I've been to a party before," you said flatly, taking Carter's old spot at the end of the table and across from the boy in the blue and black striped shirt. "And yes, I can drink," you added, finishing off the last of your jungle juice.

"You know you can't cheat your way to winning flip cup," Eyebrows said, moving down the table and shuffling the other boy out of the way.

"You can," you corrected, leaning forward towards him, letting your cup drop to the ground. "But I don't have to."

"We'll take her," baseball cap boy decided, as his teammate poured Keystone into the cups. "I'm Devin, by the way," he reached over, offering a hand, and you shook it.

"Y/N," you introduced.

You shook hands with Caleb and Drew before turning your attention to the other team.

"On the count of three?" Caleb asked the tall band member, who nodded. "One."

"Two–"

"You're going down," you mouthed to Eyebrows who shook his head.

"Three!" Caleb chorused with the competition, lifting his cup to his lips and chugging the beer. Caleb downed his first, but the other boy had a perfect first flip. Logan was up next, and was still struggling to flip his cup even after Drew successfully flipped his cup and Devin began drinking his beer. He finally landed it, allowing the next boy on his team to quickly catch up, racing against Devin to land his cup. Neither experienced much success as the rest of the teams cheered them on, you doing your best to keep from screaming at the kid you hardly knew. The next thing you knew, the boy across from you was drinking his cup, and Devin hadn't even managed a near success.

"Come on!" you shouted, and he flinched, the added force being exactly what was needed to land the cup. You threw your beer back easily, putting the cup on the edge of the table before you could even finish swallowing. You flipped the cup up and watched as it fell absolutely perfectly onto the table.

A second after Eyebrows'.

Both of his hands shot up into the air as his team high fived each other. "Celebrating a little early. You've still got three games to go," you remarked, piling your hair on top of your head and securing it with a hairtie.

"The hair's going up, she must be serious," Eyebrows teased, his teammates laughing as you narrowed your eyes at them.

"Let's just play."

You almost wished you hadn't insisted on playing the rest of the game.

Your team lost the second round. You somehow managed to pull the third round out of your ass. But the fourth round…

You had finished your cup and flipped it a solid ten seconds before Eyebrows could, only to have your team completely fall apart on you. You groaned as even Logan flipped his cup on the second try and Carlitos went on to win the game.

The band celebrated loudly as your team quietly slapped hands and murmured good game to each other before dispersing. Your roommate moved forward to stand next to you, unsure of why you hadn't left yet.

"So much for having a better night than me, huh?" Eyebrows turned to you, smirking.

"It's not my fault my team fucking sucked," you snapped, and he grinned.

"So it's your team's fault?" he asked, raising his eyebrows.

"If it had been just me, I would have won," you argued.

"Let's do it then," he challenged, leaning forward, his hands on the table.

"You're on."

"Y/N–" your roommate started, at the same time Logan looked to Eyebrows.

"I'm not playing another round," he shook his head.

"I'm hungry," Carlitos frowned.

"And James is already gone," Logan added, looking off to where the tall boy was leaning against the fence, talking to a girl.

"Fine, just one on one then," Eyebrows challenged.

"Same rules?" you asked.

"One round, winner takes all," he nodded.

"And what exactly does the winner take?" you asked cocking your head to the side.

"Winner's choice? Post-game?"

"Anything goes?"

"Anything." His smile was something between predatory and self-satisfied.

"Sounds like a deal," you agreed, mirroring his smile and ignoring the hovering presence of your roommate at your back.

"Logan, you pour," he ordered, and Logan shook his head but poured Keystone out into the eight cups, setting them before the two of you.

"Ready?" you asked, and the boy nodded. "One," you gripped the red solo cup in front of you, keeping your eyes locked on his.

"Two," he counted.

"Three!"

You tapped your cups against each other before downing the beer and racing to flip the cup. You got yours in one shot and moved to the second one where he caught up, finishing his third drink right as you finally landed your second. The two of you managed to get your third cups on the same try before you finally reached the last one. He finished his first by no more than a second, but it didn't matter as you watched his cup fall to the side and roll away from him. You flipped your cup…and missed. He set his cup back up, and you readied yours, launching it into the air with two fingers as he flipped his.

Your cup landed with a satisfying sound as you let out a scream of victory.

He ran his hands through this hair looking at his fallen cup and you threw back your head and laugh.

"Yes!" you cheered again, turning to your roommate, and she smiled back at you. The boy shook his head, coming out from behind the table.

"Good game," he offered a hand, and you shook it, your skin tingling at the contact–or maybe from the alcohol. Either way, the simple motion felt loose and heavy as the alcohol weighed down your limbs. "What'd you win?"

"I haven't decided yet," you said, crossing your arms and looking him up and down. "A part of me is seriously tempted to subject you to even more public humiliation." You bit your lip, considering this, and his eyes followed the gesture. "But then again, anything is on the table, and it's always nice to have a favor…" you trailed off.

"How about you think about it over a dance?"

"A dance?" you repeated, raising your eyebrows and pulling back a little.

"It's that thing when you move your body to music?" he explained, and you snorted.

"See, I feel like that's what you would have asked for if you won, aannnnd you lost, sooooo," you trailed off, shrugging.

"Sounds like you're afraid you can't keep up," he goaded.

"Please," you scoffed, dismissively. You paused, though, glancing to the side as you considered it, your eyes falling on your roommate. "I can't ditch my roommate," you shook your head, turning back to Eyebrows. "It's her first party," you added in a whisper. A little voice in the back of your head told you that this was probably not information you wanted to spread, and that you were probably a little too drunk to really take control of yourself. But fuck the little voice.

"That's your roommate?" he nodded in her direction, and you looked at her again. She giggled and looked down, her hair falling into her face and shielding her from Logan's view. He gave a small smile at her in return.

"She's safe with Logan," he said, confidently, looking back at you. "He's the last guy who'll ever try anything.

You side-eyed him. "And you?"

"I am a complete gentleman," he said, placing a hand over his heart, and you laughed at him.

"Alright gentleman, let's see if you can keep up," you agreed, taking his hand and dragging him into the living room.

You loved the way music felt when you were like this.

It was as if your blood was singing. The alcohol kept you from focusing on anything more than one thing at a time which meant you could give yourself entirely to the song. Let it take over your thoughts. Let it tell you how to move.

If you had to guess, the boy felt the same way. The way he rocked to the beat of Tove Lo's "Say It," his grip firm on your waist as his hips moved with yours. You would never admit it, but the boy could keep up.

"So, it's Y/N, right?" he asked, his breath hot on your ear, his scruff against your neck. You leaned further back into his grip, moving your body against his in time with the song.

"Yeah," you exhaled, turning your head so he could hear you. "What's your name?"

To his credit, he didn't seem shocked that you didn't recognize him from Big Time Rush. Instead, he leaned even closer and answered: "Kendall."

You expected for him to withdraw a little afterward, but he stayed close. So close you had a hard time focusing on the music as opposed to the feeling of his hands on your hip, his face close to yours. Your heart beat faster.

"You know, you're not as bad at dancing as you are at fflip cup," you slurred slightly. You felt the laugh reverberate through his chest as his exhale blew the wisps of hair that fell from your topknot.

"Speaking of which, any ideas?" he asked.

"Ideas?" You attempted to sift through your thoughts as quickly as possible, but you were finding it difficult to do so when the music was so good, and his grip tightened slightly on your hips.

"On what you win?"

You shifted slightly in his hold to look at him and found his face much closer to yours than you had anticipated. Maybe it was because you were leaning forward slightly, into him. "I ha—"

"Everybody out!" a voice bellowed as red and blue lights lit up the house. Kendall jerked back from you as if the jolt of panic that rushed through you shocked him as well.

"Oh fuck," you swore, quickly looking around the room as people swarmed towards the exits.

"Come on," he said, taking you by the hand and leading you towards the back door. He shoved people out of your way, ignoring their curses and angry shouts.

If it hadn't been for the situation, you might have laughed at how similar this was to the beginning of your night. And then it hit you.

"Where's my roommate? I need to find her–" you tripped, stumbling into Kendall's back, and he came to a stop.

"She's probably still outside," he assured, continuing the journey once more.

"We have to find her. We have to find to find her and Logan," you insisted.

"We have to go," Kendall corrected. "She'll get out too."

"No," you argued, pulling towards the flip cup tables as people streamed past you. "I promised—it's her first party and I said—,"

"Y/N," Kendall's grip tightened around your hand as he pulled you after him. "Let's go to my house. If she's with Logan, he probably took her there too. It's not far."

You looked up at him and his intense hazel eyes and took a breath in, even as the sick feeling of guilt swept over you. "Ok."

Tags: (y’all probably meant Stranger Things/Marvel stuff, but you’re on my everything list, so...) @upsidedownstevie @morgandakotaq @hairringtonsteve @kyloreneges

#big time rush #big time rush fic #kendall knight #kendall knight x reader #btr fic #btr #logan mitchell #logan mitchell x oc #rushers #rusher #kendall x reader #into the rush fic

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raging-violets · 3 years

Text

Big Time Rush: Small Talk | Ficlet | Katie Knight x Patrick Jackson (OC) / Patie

By: Rhuben

A/N: For Ethan; to keep your mind off things for a bit. Set during Season 2, Episode 25; “Big Time Contest”

Katie let out a sigh when the final beats of the song she was dancing to, ended. The smile on her face instantly dropped and she took a menacing step towards Bobby, who had been trying to reach her, the whole time.

Kendall, who spotted the charged look on his sister’s face, tightened his grip on the leash he had been using to hold Bobby back. Forget about letting him go the second the dance was over, the little brat was now his human shield.

“You!” Bobby’s demeanor immediately changed. With one syllable from Katie, he had gone from hyper-actively trying to reach her, to standing stock still, afraid to move. “Your dance is over, buster. I kept my end of the deal.” She jerked her thumb to the side. “Beat it!”

“But-”

“And go tell that reporter lady that you had an awesome day with Kendall, or I’ll shove all my gaming systems up your nose,” Katie warned, “sideways.” Bobby nodded vigorously and, feeling the slack that Kendall left in the rope, he took off running.

“Ow!” Kendall groaned, lifting his palms to his mouth. “Rope burn.” He started blowing on his hands. “Ow, ow, ow.”

“Serves you right,” Katie huffed.

“I’m sorr--”

“You better be,” Katie said, pointing a warning finger in Kendall’s face. His eyes widened, going cross as he kept his eyes on her finger. He had learned the hard way; her go to move as a baby was to poke him in the eyes. And he thought the hair pulling was bad. One corneal abrasion was all he needed to experience to know that Katie Knight was someone who was going to be able to hold her own. “I love you idiots, but that’s the last time I do something like that to save your behinds!”

“I love you, baby sister,” Kendall said with a fleeting smile. “I’ll never do that again. Promise.”

Katie crossed her arms over her chest, scrutinizing her older brother before she relaxed her posture, allowing a soft smile to grace her face. “Love you too, big brother,” she said. Then, turning on her heels, she finally made her way off the dance floor.

Dances were stupid, anyway. It wasn’t like she had ever looked forward to them back home in Minnesota. No one would even ask her, anyway. And she would have a better time at home playing her video games. Not even a magazine party was all it seemed cracked up to be. Not that she had entered any of those contests. Not a lot of them, anyway. Besides, it wasn’t like she was ever going to have her name drawn as a winner.

Katie Knight was not a winner. She had gotten a commercial job since moving out to Los Angeles, sure. But, nothing after that. And her plan for being the greatest talent manager in the world -- and future world domination -- wasn’t exactly working out for her at the moment. Hell, the only way she got a dance with a boy (a boy that drove her nuts), was through a bribe. Forget asking any guy for a dance. And forget about anyone asking her.

Katie’s gaze briefly shifted over towards Patrick; who sat in one of the many chairs lining the dance floor. His arms were crossed over his chest, legs stretched out, crossed at the ankles. Forget him, she reminded herself, no guy like him would ask you to dance, either. Not that she really liked dancing, anyway. Or even knew how to dance with a guy. She was more the “spend time at the punch bowl” type. The “I don’t know what to do with my hands” type

What better way to solve all those problems, then by hovering by the punch bowl?

“Is it any good?” The voice was so close to her

Katie went to turn, answer the question, and swallow all at the same time. Upon spotting Patrick standing so close to her, having to lean in to shout the question into her ear, she felt the punch catch in her throat, her muscles spasm, and then she was coughing it all back up. She scrambled for napkins, she was glad that the lights had been turned down a decent amount or her red cheeks would be on full display.

“Oh, geeze.” They both reached for the stack of napkins, her hand brushing across the back of his. She quickly jerked her hand back. She closed her eyes. Made a face.

At her clumsiness. At the fact that standing this close to a boy could make her lose her composure. She could intimidate people with her brash nature. How often had her mom told her that the kids may just be intimidated by her being so outspoken? Her direct attitude? Mrs. Knight had often reassured her that they weren’t negative traits to be had if she were to be a talent manager.

But, she wasn’t there, yet. So, was it a bad thing? Is that why she didn’t really have any friends?

“Here.” Patrick handed her the wad of napkins, his hand hovering for just a moment over the wet spot on her shirt before thrusting it more towards her chin. “Sorry.”

“It’s...sweet,” Katie managed to get out. She lifted her cup to her hide her mouth, as much of her red cheeks as possible. “I mean, the punch is sweet. This--” She grabbed the napkins from his hand, and circled the wet spot on her shirt with the wad. “This is ok. I mean, it’s ok.”

“Sooo, you and Bobby...?” He let the sentence hang in the air.

Katie rolled her eyes. “He promised Kendall and those other idiots to talk about how awesome of a day he had on his ‘date’ if I danced with him,” she replied. Patrick’s eyebrows shot up. Angling his head to the side, he looked around the dance floor, trying to locate the kid. A muscle in his jaw tightened, and Katie was reminded of earlier in the day, when Bobby had tried to kiss her:

“Ew, gross!” Katie had recoiled at Bobby’s brazen approach. As soon as Kendall had gone off to get smoothies, he had turned around and tried turning up the charm. As if bragging about his “guns” wasn’t bad enough. “What the heck, dude?”

“Oh, come on,” Bobby had said, the wide smile never leaving his face. “I know you like me.” He leaned forward, puckering his lips, squeezing his eyes shut. Katie took a giant step back, and Bobby stumbled forward, missing his target.

“Do that again, and I’ll punch you,” she had warned. Her heartbeat quickened in her chest. No one had ever taught her how to get out of a situation like this. Violence was usually her go to. “Just leave me alone. I didn’t even want to hang out with you in the first place!”

“Worth the risk,” Bobby had said with a shrug. He took another step forward and Katie jumped backwards, bumping into something behind her. She felt a pair of hands grab her arms, steadying her, then heard Patrick say from behind her, “She said to leave her alone. Beat it; before I beat you!"

"What? Is he your bodyguard or something?" Bobby had asked, crossing his arms over his chest.

Katie glanced up at Patrick (whom she realized was still holding her steady) who slowly blinked in Bobby's direction - his eyes narrowed slightly, face taught with annoyance. Jaw a straight line. He made a show of making a cracking sound with the gum he was slowly chewing. He looked down at Katie before releasing her, releasing a breath of air through his nose, stepping to the side and sliding his hands into his jeans pockets. Finally, he had opened his mouth and said, still looking at her, "Only when she wants me to be."

“Thanks, but I don’t need your help,” Katie had said to him, before turning back to Bobby and throwing a punch at him that landed on his

“Ow!” Bobby had groaned, grabbing his face. As he rubbed the sore spot, he smiled, impressed. “You’ve got an arm; Bobby likes!”

“Argh, get lost!” Katie had growled, throwing her hands into the air. Bobby looked back and forth between Katie and Patrick, opened his mouth, decided against whatever it was he was going to say, before rushing off, still rubbing his face. Katie pressed her lips together, turning towards Patrick. “Um, thanks.”

“You had it handled,” Patrick had said with a shrug and his lopsided smile. “I was just backing you up.” He then removed his game console from his back pocket. “Brought my game. Ready to play?”

“Sure!” Katie had replied.

Katie rolled her eyes, looking over at Bobby who was flailing around on the dance floor in his idea of dancing. “There is no me and Bobby,” she said. “I only agreed to this to help those idiots out. And it was just one dance. He signed a contract. Non-negotiable."

Patrick lifted one corner of his mouth into a teasing smirk. "Ok, then, d’you want to dance?” He then hit himself on the forehead with the palm of his hand. “Reckon I have to sign a contract myself, hey?"

"No!” Katie shouted the word louder than she intended to. Luckily the music was already so loud, it wasn’t jarring. “I mean, we can hang out. That's cool." She then lifted her fist and punched him on the arm. Friendly-like, of course.

“You have a nice right hook, by the way,” Patrick said with a chuckle, reaching for his own cup of punch.

"Thanks.” She pressed her lips together, rocking back on her heels. Silence fell over the two of them as they looked around at the other party-goers. “So, uh, nice party, huh?”

His nose wrinkled. “I mean, Gustavo contracted us to perform or whatever, but I only wanted to come to this thing because I knew you'd be here," he said, indicating her with his cup of punch.

"Oh.”

"Yeah, these magazine contest things aren't that much fun,” he explained. “It's just another thing you have to be 'on' for. Can’t really relax with all the bloody cameras around, either.”

“Oh.” Katie lifted her cup to her mouth, biting down on the rim. She closed her eyes at her repetition. She looked around the space, her eyes sweeping over Kendall who was having trouble getting close enough to Bobby (who was still flailing) to get his harness back on, to Carlos who seemed to be having a great time jump-dancing, with his two dates, to the Jacksons who were speaking with Pop Tiger reporters, then to James who was making his umpteenth time up to the chili dog counter. “Well, um, you want to just sit and...” “Talk” was the word that wanted to roll off her tongue, but she was at a loss for what topic to focus on. “And make fun of James all night?”

“Cool,” Patrick gave his lopsided smile. He motioned towards the empty seats lining the dance floor, and Katie stepped past him to claim a seat. He lowered himself into the seat next to her. Katie looked at him out of the corner of her eye. “I’ll make sure Bobby doesn’t try to break your contract, either.”

“Yeah, don’t leave me alone with him,” Katie warned, “Ev-er.”

Patrick put his hands up defensively. “No worries,” he promised.

“I mean it,” Katie said, “you have to take your bodyguard job seriously.” She laughed as she watched Patrick make a V with his index and middle fingers, pointing towards his eyes before he turned it out over the dance floor.

They shared a smile before simultaneously lifting their cups to their mouths to take another sip of punch.

#authored by: rhuben #ficlet #fd: big time rush #katie knight #oc: patrick jackson #big time contest #for ethan

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