80s imagines and oneshots 💓💓

Paul Stanley #1

The loud, over-exaggerated rock music flooded the bar, making me flinch a little each time the drummer hit one of the drums, or the guitarist struck a string. The smoke from their show was getting to me, so I downed my fourth vodka of the night and walked outside, instantly feeling better at the rush of cold, crisp air.

I still heard the music through the walls as I sat contentedly on a bench outside. It wasn't that bad, and it was much better than the last band that performed-a boyband who were more like N-Sync than N-Sync, but weren't actually in-sync at all.

But this band, I liked them. They were different;their attitudes were so appealing and so intriguing. Especially one, though I didn't know anything about him, apart from the fact that he was wearing makeup with a star painted over his left eye. I jumped a little as a door slammed outside, and I came back to reality. The music had changed now, it was more like the not-N-Sync boys that were on before.

And then I spotted it:a figure.

Why are people out here when they should be in there? I decided to pretend not to notice, in order to avoid conversation, though it clearly didn't work. The next time I looked, the figure was walking towards me, not exactly quickly, although there was some power in his steps.

"Hi." I said loudly as the figure got closer, though it was still too dark for me to make them out.
"What's a pretty lady like yourself doin' out here all alone?" The figure was clearly male, I could see that now from his build. He seated himself next to me, the light from the street-lamp illuminating his facial features. I could see now who it was-the guitarist with the star.
"It got way too smokey in there, so I came outside. Yourself?" I asked, surprised at how calm I was keeping. He stifled a laugh and shrugged.
"The show's over and I'd rather be outside, alone, than with a room of sweaty people who I'm compelled to get pissed with. I'm not about that."
"You'd rather be alone? I suppose I'll go, then." I smiled, holding eye contact with him.
"I mean-not alone, but-"
"I was just messing with you. So, you're star-face, hm? I liked your performance, it was cute."
"It was cute? I'm in a rock band! I'm not meant to be cute!" he laughed abruptly and I couldn't help but laugh with him.
"No, I meant I thought you were-"

"Paul!"
Another figure stood at the door, leaning out ever so slightly.
"What, Gene? I'm busy!"
"We're going to the bar, you coming?"
"No, I'll stick around here." The man sat next to me called back.

"So, you're called Paul?" I asked.
"Paul Stanley, at your service." He put on a posh accent and pretended to take a hat off his head, which made me laugh.
"Y/n y/l/n. At your service." I stood up and pretended to curtsy, leaning slightly far. My nose practically touched with Paul's.

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We sat together talking for hours and hours, about anything that crossed our minds. I laughed more than I had in a while, and gradually got closer to Paul, even though I'd only just met him.

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"So, what was your favourite song?" Paul asked, as he stretched his arms out along the back of the bench, slightly leaning one arm on me.
"Uhm-" My breathing faltered as he did so, and I choked a little on my words.
"You alright?"
"I'm fine. It was probably the one where you sang, and you kept singing that one line 'I was made for loving you'."
"Does that not give the name away?" He laughed, and I facepalmed, giggling along with him.
"Do you want me to get you a drink of anything?"
"Um, can I get a Coke please? I mean, if you're getting a drink for yourself."
"Of course."

"Hey, can I tell you something?" Paul piped up, after we'd been sitting in a comfortable silence for a few minutes.
"Mhmm. Go ahead." I smiled, tilting my head a little in Paul's direction.
"You're gorgeous."
I choked on the Coke I'd just sipped and started coughing forcefully.
Paul sat forward in alarm and patted my back, in order to try and stop me from dying.
"I'm sorry." I said in a strained voice, smiling as best I could.
"I just don't see what took you by surprise." Paul said.
"What you said...Did you mean that?"
"Of course. What kick would I get out of lying about how beautiful you are?"
"I don't know, you clearly haven't met all zero of the men I've dated." I shrugged, and Paul wrapped an arm around me, pulling me close to him.
"Well, I've met myself, so if you're willing to try, we could change those statistics." He said quietly, and I bit my lip to conceal a grin.
"I'm willing." I replied, and within seconds, Paul had me on his lap, with his lips pressed against mine. He kissed me with force and affection, something I'd never experienced. I wrapped my arms around his neck and gasped as his lips trailed down my jaw and neck, his teeth grazing my skin slightly.
"Paul..."
"Do you want to go somewhere private?" He asked. His voice was different this time, it was lower. More serious, more sure.
"Where were you thinking?" I asked, trying to match the attitude he had.
"I was thinking...my house?" He raised an eyebrow and I smiled, biting my lip.
"Give me two minutes." He smiled, practically running towards the door he came out of.

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"Let's go!" His voice surprised me as I was sitting nonchalantly on the bench. His makeup was gone, and he was wearing regular clothes. He had a backpack slung on his back and a hand outstretched, there for me to take. I grabbed it and he led me to a large black car.
"Is this yours?" I asked in disbelief.
"It's mine." He smiled proudly. "Come on, get in or you'll freeze."

1036 words 🎉🎉

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