#when they get so focused on the flash band they forget to pay attention to what their themes are doing

[spoofymcgee]

i just finished watching the power of three and. i didn't like it.

don't get me wrong, it has plenty of delightful moments. it showcases beautifully just how impatient 11 is, just how unwilling to stop moving and running. it's strange how he still feels so fresh and new half a season from the end of his run.

kate is, obviously, incredible and i would die for her, and the sweet little moments between her and the doctor, the doctor and rory, the kitchen scene with rory and amy, all of those were lovely.

but this episode feels like it's designed to hurt you, to set up the devastation of the next one. i haven't seen it yet, but i know what happens and.

i don't mind that it's there to make the next episode hurt. i don't even mind how unsubtle it is about that–this doctor's run i think has a very serious problem of talking so much about the themes and how cool it is rather than showing them, but that's another post, and i can set that aside.

what i do mind is that. there's no point. it's a big, flashy, dramatic, horrible sendoff for the ponds, when approximately three seconds ago they were ready to retire from travelling, to be normal. and then, totally against everything they'd been doing and saying, they went back. for really no apparent reason other than they suddenly want to when there's no setup for that.

and i think it's for two reasons.

the first one is that this whole run has no fucking clue what self-restraint and consent and respect for other people's boundaries are. you can see that in so many places–from the beginning, how the doctor doesn't give amy a chance to change out of her nightgown, the way she kisses him and keeps doing it even though he's trying to get away, the way they have her choose and commit to rory and then turn around and make rory weirdly possessive towards her, as if without him stopping her she would go and do who knows what with the doctor (who. isn't interested? stranger in a strange land much?) the weird bit where the doctor keeps asking rory if he can hug amy, and not asking amy. right up until the end–amy's chosen rory so many times now, and she has to prove herself again and never stop proving that she'll choose him over the doctor, despite that they're married, despite that she picked him. the story won't stop punishing her for being interested in someone other than him at the beginning.

and that's just off the top of my head. this whole run has basically no clue what consent is, and is operating on a very outdated understanding of boundaries.

so what follows is that the ponds can't choose to walk away. the doctor will keep running towards them, they can't choose to leave because we think the doctor doesn't have the ability to respect that boundary, so they have to want to stay, because otherwise. well, he wants them to stay. needs them to stay. he can't let them move on. but the doctor is the good guy, so we can't go there. so the ponds have to be put permanently out of his reach, because we don't know what self-restraint and respect for others is.

which is just fucking uncomfortable.

the second reason is why i think the power of three is mean.

and that's because it's for the shock value. it's for the flash, it's because we can't let people have a happy ending, a quiet exit in this show. they need to go out with a bang, they need to be ripped away from the doctor, it needs to be dramatic and tear-jerking and what does it matter if this is telling a sound, good story so long as we can keep it loud enough to keep people's attention?

because the story being told here is that traveling with the doctor is an addiction. you either kick it or it eats up your whole life and then itself and you're left with nothing. travelling with the doctor is something that chews you up and spits you out and kills you and steals you out of your life and won't let you go back. only the doctor needs someone with him, doesn't he? isn't that what we've talked about so much? what happens to the doctor, to the universe, when the doctor goes alone?

so that leaves us with an endless parade of people marching to their doom to protect the universe from the doctor and who he becomes without them. which is a story that fits, technically. the minotaur in the maze, snapping up innocent people and emptying them out and filling them with prayer and waiting for it to all end. the doctor in his box, sweeping people out of their lives and filling them with adventure and wonder and sacrificing them to stop himself from going mad.

and i hate that story. i hate it so much. i hate it if it's on purpose and i hate it more if it's by accident, if they stumbled into that by having a flashy no-substance exit for amy and rory.

it's every take i hate on the doctor, it's the antithesis to the first message amy's arc had to say: the doctor is ancient and the doctor is alone and the doctor is kind. the doctor doesn't let other people keep hurting when he can stop it, even when it makes him not the doctor, even when it's the worst thing he's ever done.

just. i wish amy and rory had been allowed to be normal, like they wanted. i wish the doctor could have dropped in on them occasionally for dinner, or stayed away if he couldn't. i wish that they could have had a happy ending instead of a bittersweet one that leaves a sour taste in the back of my throat when i think about it for too long.

#eleventh doctor #amy pond #rory williams #doctor who #the power of three #the angels take manhattan #analysis #nuwho #it just makes me angry when people are lazy about what story they're telling #when they get so focused on the flash band they forget to pay attention to what their themes are doing #and you end up with this

[howyouloveyourdragon]

ᴊᴇꜱꜱɪᴇ (ᴊᴀᴄᴇ)'ꜱ ɢɪʀʟ ᴘᴀʀᴛ ɪɪɪ

modern au jessie's girl masterlist

warnings: none that i know of but let me know if there are :) pronouns: she/her summary: someone wins the competition but with every winner there's a loser. word-count: 1,643  A/N: this part focuses less on aemond this time but i hope you all still enjoy it, i've been neglecting the other boys too much and thank you to everybody who has been voting in the polls, they have been very helpful <3

Aegon struggles to pretend the words don't hit him as Helaena reprimands him. It's times like this that he remembers they all came from the same sharp mother. So he protects his facade and tightens the muscles of his face and shoves past Daeron to the dance floor. There's only ever one person who makes him feel better after a scolding. He huffs as he dismisses the people congratulating him on the performance and the girls who pretend to be interested in him only to soak up attention though he supposes he does the same. Eventually his gaze pans across the bar and he finds you giggling with two of your friends. He sighs in relief. Oh fuck you have that cute little smile again. He thinks and instantly starts toward you. Your friend notices him and says something in your ear, the next band has come onstage and their set is so loud it's practically making his ears bleed. His heart almost stops when you spin around and light up at the sight of him. You squeal and throw your arms around him. Aegon chuckles and twirls you both. You laugh lightly and he already softens, forgetting Helaena's earful. "You were great!" You shout at him and his grin turns to beaming. "Thanks." he returns and glances over at you. "I know I told you already but you look fucking great." His compliment sends your eyes to roll and shove him playfully. "Keep that up and you'll lose your gaggle of admirers." Your tease catches him off guard and he barks out an anxious laugh. "You wouldn't want them to think I was your girlfriend." The scrunch of your nose makes his shoulders tense though he knows you are joking, the words almost shiver through his ears. He nods and thankfully you become too occupied by the music again to pay too much attention.

He itches to talk to you again but his pale eyes connect with those of his sister and a flash of guilt shoots through him. Aegon clears his throat. "Have you talked with Aemond yet?" He asks you, you strain to hear him over the music. Your eyes light up and you grasp his hands in sudden remembrance. "No but please tell him I'm looking for him if you see him cause oh my god that song!" You exclaim, his heart twinges again. Aegon doesn't know whether it's in attraction or pain. He selfishly shrugs even though he knows perfectly well where his brother is. "Course." He lies fluently. "Would..." His words have to be forced from between his teeth. He's never nervous when he's with you, why is he so fucking nervous? It feels like there's a god damn golf ball in his throat. He chickens out. Like Usual, he sighs. "I'm gonna get a drink." You nod and give him a quick hug before he slips away cursing himself. Aegon's figure reaches the bar and sighs, settling himself on a stool. He mutters and waves at the man behind the bar who starts promptly pouring him a glass. Aegon groans when his youngest brother's familiar presence drops on the stool beside him. "You're an idiot." Daeron announces with an amused expression. "Like everytime you do something stupid I'm like 'thank god, he can't top this' and then you do something like this and I'm like 'oh yeah, he can'." Daeron develops a curl in his lip and his brother knows it's ironically to make him feel better by joking about their unfortunate situation but all it does is irritate him. Aegon rolls his eyes and then glares. "The more you talk the more I think I'm in hell. Do you ever stop talking?" He snaps. "You might deserve to be after tonight." Daeron remarks. Aegon gives him a swat on his arm childishly and drowns once more in the drink before him.

There's an odd pause but neither feels uncomfortable. "He will forgive you, you know." Daeron eventually says and Aegon sighs. "I don't think he will." He murmurs, eyes tracking you in the crowd. Daeron bites his lip. "He will." "And how do you know that?" "He's Aemond." "Exactly, when has he ever forgiven anyone?" "He always forgives you." Aegon scoffs at the very idea. "No he doesn't, not really. He only pretends to for mum's sake and besides...I've never, well–" Aegon grumbles before words fail him. He feels that horrible feeling of his throat closing up again. "I've never done anything to do with her before. He's different about that kind of thing. Different about her. Hell, I didn't even know he had feelings before they met." Daeron snorts and then shifts in discomfort and finally looks over at you too. "So are you." He comments and nudges him gently. "Different around her. We know how you feel about her, we all know how you feel about her. Subtlety has never been your place, stupid." Aegon grits his teeth and tenses his shoulders. "Shut up." "Hm, I don't think I will." Aegon fakes a gag. "Don't hum that's Aemond's thing."

You laugh as your friend twirls you around. "Stop, I'm gonna throw up." You beam. As Jacaerys walks toward you, his grin broadens at your glow. He sneaks up behind you and drops his hands to settle on your waist. You shriek in surprise and jump before craning your neck to see him. You soften and smile. He kisses your temple and tugs your back flush to his chest. Your friend rolls their eyes and wrinkles their nose. "You're so gross." She whines. You shrug and can't beat the smile off your face. "You were amazing out there tonight." You beam up at him. His heart stutters and a blush builds on his cheeks. "Yeah?" He asks, grinning dopily. You nod. "I'm glad you think so." He leans over to kiss your cheek this time. Aegon watches and swallows around the lump in his throat. This time he looks at Daeron and shakes his head. Your hands reach up to entangle your fingers awkwardly in Jace's hair. His eyelids flutter closed and he murmurs softly. "Probably wouldn't have done it if you didn't push me to." You lean your head back on his shoulder, his arms climbing to enlace your fingers together and bring them down around you both. "Baela doesn't take no for an answer usually." You prod him with your nose. He snorts. "Just take the compliment." Jace argues but his words are still gentle, his fingers still soft. You shrug, smile growing.

Unfortunately your moment gets cut short by the announcer and both your heads snap to look at the stage, clenching each other's hands in anticipation. "The winner..." He mumbles, unblinking as he stares at the announcer. "And so, the winner of 2023 King's Gate Best Bands competition is...The Blacks!" The audience releases loud cheers and Jace gasps, holding tight around you. He beams and kisses your cheek as Cregan slaps a hand on his back, cheering as well. As the band starts to ascend the stage, Jace tugs your hand to join them even when you protest weakly, smiling as he insists. Back at the bar Aegon hardens his gaze and draws a sharp bitter smile. The hot pink light reflects against the shine of your hair and he tries not to let his eyes linger on the mark on your neck just barely visible. Jace snakes an arm around your waist and squeezes as his bandmates celebrate around you. Eventually he is handed the mic. "I just wanted to say thanks to everyone who voted tonight and an extra special thank you to Y/n who of course is the reason for our number." He looks at you with a glow warm enough to melt the sun. You can almost hear the throb of his heart through the fabric of his shirt. "You mean more to me than you'll ever know." Jace breathes, surrendering the microphone to Baela who clears her throat while he leans in to kiss your temple. A chorus of 'aw's and hollers spread through the venue and Aegon rolls his eyes before slamming his glass into Daeron's chest, not caring as it splashes over the both of them. He stands and much like their other brother, storms from the scene.

As you descend the stage again, Jacaerys doesn't stray his arm from around you. Instead, he clears his throat as the bar begins to empty. "Addam and Alyn are holding some get-together, I was–well, I was wondering if maybe you'd–" Baela interrupts him, wrapping her arms around your neck and grinning mischievously. "He wants you to go with us. Him specifically." With that she winks and lets Helaena tug her away, both of them giggling. He sighs but starts to smile as he looks up at you through his curly locks. This is possibly the only time you have ever seen him look bashful of all things. "Not how I wanted to ask you." Jace chuckles and stands in front of you, linking your hands together with entwined fingers. You curl your lip into your mouth in an attempt to bite back a smirk. "Oh yeah?" You ask, raising a teasing brow. You break away your hands so they can slip up his arms, his breath growing more shallow as you wrap them around his neck. You tilt your head in the most playful way you can manage despite your racing heartbeat. "Then try again." Jacaerys breaks into a smile and takes a step forward, bringing your already close bodies even nearer. "Will you go to the afterparty with me?" He asks, staring into your eyes and growing gentle in your embrace. You nod softly and lean until your noses rub against one another. "Yes."

Taglist: @joliettes@f4ll-for-you @lavendermayonese @schniiipsel @minttea07

#jessie's girl ff #modern au #modern band au #modern hotd #modern hotd au #modern jacaerys #modern jacaerys velaryon #modern jace velaryon #modern aemond #modern aemond targaryen #modern aegon targaryen #modern aegon ii targaryen #modern jacaerys velaryon x reader #jacaerys velaryon x reader #aemond targaryen x reader #jace velaryon x reader #aemond x reader #modern!aemond x reader #modern!jacaerys x reader #modern!aegon x reader #band au #modern!jacaerys velaryon x reader #modern!jace velaryoon x reader #modern!aegon targaryen x reader #modern!aemond targaryen x reader #hotd fic #house of the dragon fic #jace's girl ff #modern aegon ii targaryen x reader #modern aegon ii x reader

[mrs-gucci]

𝐡𝐚𝐥𝐟𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞

𝘌𝘥𝘥𝘪𝘦 𝘔𝘶𝘯𝘴𝘰𝘯 𝘹 𝘧𝘦𝘮 𝘙𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳

warnings. smut!!, cheerleader!reader (of age), some cafeteria scene dialogue (so maybe a teensy spoiler?), semi-public sex, secret hookup, quickie, unprotected sex, dirty talk, light degradation, light spanking, no use of ‘Y/N’.

word count: 1.5k

|| 𝖊𝖉𝖉𝖎𝖊 𝖒𝖚𝖓𝖘𝖔𝖓 𝖒𝖆𝖘𝖙𝖊𝖗𝖑𝖎𝖘𝖙 ||

“But as long as you’re into band...or science...or parties...”

You look over as the familiar voice of Eddie Munson makes its way to your ears. He’s standing on the table and sneering over at the basketball boys and cheerleaders. Why does he always have to make such a scene?

“Or a game where you toss balls into laundry baskets...or shake your pom poms for guys to go to college...”

His eyes flicker to you when he says that, the faintest of smirks tugging at his mouth. He knows exactly what he’s doing. Your cheeks warm and you look down, picking at what’s left of your chicken salad.

Jason stands up quickly, glaring at the third year senior. “You want something, freak?”

He does the devil pose, fingers mimicking horns on the side of his head while his tongue sticks out, very similar to the devil on his shirt. His friends at the table chuckle and he lowers his hands, eyes still on Jason. He looks at you one more time as he turns to walk back down the table, flashing a cocky grin.

You swallow harshly, shifting in your seat. The way he looked at you, flashed you that cocky grin...damn. He doesn’t even know what he’s doing to you. 

Or maybe he does.

***

“Push ‘em back, defense! Push ‘em back!”

You wear a sweet smile, shaking your poms in sync with the rest of the girls. No one’s paying attention to the cheers, they never do. But you enjoy doing it, regardless.

Although tonight, you can’t help but feel that you’re being watched. You look around the crowd, searching for the set of eyes that may be responsible. 

Sure enough, standing in the gymnasium doorway, is Eddie ‘the freak’ Munson. His eyes don’t leave you, not even when you look over and meet his gaze. You know that look, you know it all too well.

He pulls out what looks like a scrap piece of loose leaf between his two fingers, casually bending over to drop it in your cheer bag, which just so happened to be the one closest to the door.

You’re so caught up in watching his every move that you forget you’re supposed to be cheering. A hand on your shoulder yanks you from your momentary Eddie trance and you turn to look back at your friend.

“You okay?”

“Yeah, yeah, of course.” You smile, looking back over at the door. It’s empty. You sigh, picking the cheer up again. As much as you try to stay focused, your eyes continue to dart over to your cheer bag, where the note is. You really want to know what it says.

Halftime finally comes and you all but sprint over to the bag and grab the note, reading Eddie’s scratchy handwriting.

Come to Hellfire at halftime.

A simple message, but one that sends goosebumps down your arms and legs. You’re quick to head down the hall and peek into the drama room, where Eddie’s sitting on his large throne-like chair at the head of the table. He’s completely alone in the room.

You step in the room and close the door behind you. Just as you’re getting ready to take a step towards him--

“Lock the door.”

Swallowing harshly, you turn back to lock it. Then you walk towards the throne, approaching him slowly. He watches your every move.

“How much time do we have?” His voice is low and somewhat husky.

You stand between his spread legs, looking down at him.  “Twenty, give or take.”

He hums, smoothing his hands over your thighs, reaching around to squeeze your ass under your skirt. You hum in response, smiling softly as he takes the hem of your cheer skirt between his teeth, pulling it out a bit before letting it slap back against your stomach. “Good thing I only need ten minutes to destroy you with my cock.”

“Eddie--” He suddenly yanks you down onto his lap and you gasp, hands quickly finding his thick mane of permed hair. “Jesus.”

“Mm. I can’t get enough of you, beautiful. Love this perfect little ass in this fucking cheer skirt. Love the little noises you make when I’m inside you. Love watching my dick pound the queen of Hawkins High.” His lips pepper your neck in wet, open-mouthed kisses as he talks.

You whimper softly, reaching down to start undoing his jeans. You love this, the secret hookup with Eddie ‘the freak’ Munson, more than you care to admit. And not just because it’s risky and a bit scandalous, but also because he’s incredibly good at fucking you. 

His jaw clenches when you pull him out of his jeans, grunting softly at the feeling of your hand on his hard cock. You give him a few pumps while he pushes your panties to the side, fingers lazily stroking your clit. His hips thrust up against your motions, lips connecting to yours.

“C’mon, baby. Let me get in that perfect little cunt.” he shudders at his own words, dribbles of precum leaking down the head. “Wanna watch you fuck yourself on my dick.”

Well, he certainly doesn’t have to ask twice and before he knows it, he’s balls deep in your wet walls. You both gasp softly in-sync, reveling in the feeling for a moment before you ride him, starting nice and slow but quickly speeding up.

“Shit you’re so goddamn tight -- ohhh -- I’m always stretching you open baby,” he breathes. “Gonna make me fuckin’ bust if you keep gripping my cock like this, fucking s-slut.”

“Fu-uu-uuuuck,” you moan quietly, head tipping back. “Mmm...mmm...”

“God, yes. That’s soooo good, little one. Keep going just like this, k-keep -- mmm -- this up.” his eyes flutter shut, resting his head on the back of the throne. 

You do as he says, keeping your quick pace on top of him. His hands eventually come up and knead your breasts over your uniform, smirking every time you gasp or whine or whimper.

Just to tease him a bit, you slow back down as soon as you feel his hips start to buck. He growls, quickly grabbing your hips and rutting up into you relentlessly, breathing heavy on the side of your neck. 

“Trying to tease me, are you?” he chuckles breathily, landing a quick smack on your ass. “Not tonight, princess. ‘m too wound up for that shit.”

You gasp, fingernails digging into his clothed shoulders. You love it when he takes control, uses you for his pleasure. “O-Oh shit, ohh fuck, ahhh...”

“Mmm, keep making those pretty noises for me. Drives me wild, baby, y-you know what you’re doing.”

It doesn’t take long for you to approach climax, jaw slacking and eyebrows knitting in the center of your forehead. He groans shakily, giving your ass another quick smack before suddenly picking you up and all but throwing you onto the D&D table, knocking the game pieces all over the place.

“There we go,” he pushes your legs together and rests them on his shoulder, pounding into you as hard as he can manage. “Loooook at you, queen of Hawkins High, so fucking ruined for my cock. Mmm -- letting me fuck you in the drama room, so desperate for it I gotta rail you on my g-goddamn D&D table."

You’re moaning and gasping breathily as the table’s legs groan, forcefully being rocked back and forth with Eddie’s hips. You can barely form words, so lost in your pleasure, so close to your orgasm.

“G-Gonna -- ohhhh -- gonna cum!” you manage, eyes rolling back in your head.

His hand grabs your wrists and pins them above your head, grunting in your ear as his hips work even faster. “Yeah? C’mon then, c-cum on my dick. Show me how much you love and appreciate my cock fucking y-you.”

You bury your face against him, slightly muffling the cry you let out as you cum all over him. Your hips buck and your insides grip him like a vice, which quickly sends Eddie over the edge as well. 

He manages to pull out just in time, groaning and grunting as his spend paints your thighs and folds. His hand continues stroking until he’s totally spent, then he falls back on the chair, body limp.

“Mmm, fuck...” you’re panting as you slide down off the table onto shaky legs, smoothing out your skirt and fixing yourself as best you can. You look at him with a small, dopey smile. “Did we make it in time?”

Eddie looks down at his watch after tucking himself away, chuckling softly. “Just under ten minutes. Right on time, little one.”

“Good, good.” you nod.

“Do you, uh...” he gestures to your thighs. “Need something to clean up with? Would hate for you to get in trouble cause of me.”

You lean down so that you’re eye-level with the dungeon master. 

“I like it when I’ve got you dripping down my thighs.” you whisper, then give him a quick, feather-light kiss before walking out with a little extra sway in your hips.

He shivers, grunting softly with a small smirk on his face. God...where have you been all his life?

#mrs gucci #stranger things #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things 4 #eddie munson #eddie stranger things #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x female reader #joe quinn #joseph quinn

[sammygvfslut]

i like you a latte | s. kiszka

Summary: Words cannot espresso how much you mean to Sammy Kiszka.

Word Count: 2.3k

A/N: Hey besties!!! this is my first ever sam fic, and i really hope you guys enjoy it! it’s super cheesy so beware of some tooth-rotting fluff ahead. any and all feedback is appreciated <3

Loud chattering and the sounds of espresso machines hissing and whistling filled the cafe. Every few seconds or so when a new customer walked in, a soft ringing above the door rang. Glancing at the clock, you sighed as it read 7am. Way too early for your liking. You wished to be back in bed under the covers with your cat Joey snuggling. Plus, the cold weather made it even harder for you to get out of bed every morning. Damn you, winter.

“Good morning.” A voice said suddenly, startling you as you slightly jumped. “Whoops, didn’t mean to scare you there for a sec.”

Turning around at the voice, your heart fluttered and a smile pulled at the corners of your lips. “G-Good morning, Sam! Nope, didn’t scare me at all. I was just uh...focusing very hard and you caught me off guard.”

A chuckle rumbled from his chest, his own lips curving and flashing that beautiful grin. God, he made you melt. You took a quick chance to admire his appearance for the day, luscious brown locks pulled back into a low bun with a few stray pieces framing his face, and he wore a slightly oversized brown grandpa looking sweater. He exuded true fall energy today and all you wanted to do was snuggle with him watching a movie while sipping on hot chocolate. “Right. Focusing on what exactly? Staring at the register?”  

“S-Sure. Yes, the register.” Totally not him instead. “Um, I realized it turned off right now and my mind blanked to turn it back on.”

Sam placed a hand on your shoulder as he laughed, his touch leaving a wave of goosebumps to rise out of your skin. “You’re so cute. I’ll leave you to that then, but if you need help trying to get the register to turn back on again, let me know.” And with that, he sent you a wink and turned on his heel away to start on the customers orders.

Alright, alright. So maybe early shifts weren’t as bad as you thought thanks to your insanely charming co-worker. Sam and you had been working together for the past year, and almost instantly you started falling for him. He welcomed you with open arms and he was a great help when it came to your training. Your co-workers were nice too, but Sam took that extra step in making sure you were comfortable with what you were doing. If you made a mistake and were freaking out about it, he somehow knew the way to calm you down. He was too precious and good for this cruel world. And most of all, out of your league too.

With his dashing looks and amazing personality, you just knew there was no way he’d ever feel the same about you. Except, any time you’d voice that thought to any of your friends at work, they’d tell you you’re crazy and that he likes you too. Apparently they caught on to the signs more than you did, which wasn’t a shocker considering that you’d have no clue if a guy was interested in you unless he blatantly confessed. So, trying to figure out hints was completely pointless for you.

“Uh oh, she’s deep in thought,” one of your friends/co-workers, Danny, teased. He also happened to be Sam’s best friend, and current band mate since the pair are in a band with Sam’s older twin brothers. “I bet I can guess what, or who you were thinking about.”

“Don’t even say it,” you warned with a finger, “He’s literally four feet away from us—”

“So?” Danny rolled her eyes with his arms folded. “Why don’t you just tell him how you feel? Come on, it’s been almost a year now. What’s the worst that can happen if you confess?”

“He can hear me.” You stared blankly at him, shaking your head. “Absolutely not though, Danny. I will not embarrass myself from the humiliation I’d have to face from his rejection.”

Danny groaned frustratedly, placing his hands on both your shoulders and shaking them. “You’re so hopeless! Y/N, how many times do the guys and I have to tell you he likes you too!” He raised his voice a little louder than necessary which accidentally caught the attention of almost everyone in the cafe. Sam included unfortunately. Danny’s eyes widened, silently cursing under his breath. “Carry on, everyone.”

As much as you hated to admit it, Danny wasn’t lying when he mentioned about the guys agreeing that Sam likes you too. Every time you came over Josh’s apartment and Sam was there he’d find any little excuse to have his arm around you or teasing you constantly. You’d shake it off that he was just treating you like a friend would, but of course the guys would disagree with you.

“We’ll finish this conversation later,” Danny told you sternly, “But for now, and don’t make it obvious, but Sam’s looking at you.” A mischievous grin spread across his face as he winked and stepped to the next register before greeting a new customer and taking their order.

Heart pounding out of your chest, you slowly looked over your shoulder in Sam’s direction. You saw his head quickly turn and finish off the drink in front of him. Your cheeks burned at this and tried taking deep, slow breaths to calm yourself down. Didn’t work much, but as a new customer waved and told you their order, your breathing turned back to normal.

On the other end of the counter, Sam was currently freaking the hell out from what he heard a few minutes ago between you and Danny. He didn’t mean to, but he also wasn’t that far from either of you. Plus, Danny wasn’t the best at keeping his voice low. He had a strong feeling he knew you were talking about him, and for that reason alone he overflowed the cup he was pouring into and made a mess. He cursed under his breath and wiped his hands on his apron, shaking his head.

You caught sight of this and rushed to his side, grabbing a cloth from under the sink and started wiping the sticky counter. Sam was certain his cheeks were tomato red from his embarrassment, making a complete fool of himself for not paying attention to what he was doing. More so focusing on your conversation and your damn smile from earlier. You weren’t the only one here with a crush.

“T-Thanks, Y/N.” Sam chuckled nervously, throwing the cup in the trash and tossing the drink pitcher he held in the sink. “I’m normally not this much of a dumbass.”

“I’m not too sure about that one, Kiszka.” You teased lightly with a grin. “It happens, don’t worry,” you assured. “I’m just glad it was cold tea you spilled and not steaming coffee. I’d hate for you to get a third degree burn. That happened to me once, don’t recommend it.”

“Didn’t I drive you to the hospital for that?” he asked. “I think that might’ve happened a few months ago.”

Your eyes widened at the memory. “Oh shit, you’re right. God, I’m still so sorry I had to drag you into that.”

Sam shook his head, lips curving and cheeks no longer flushed. “For the hundredth time, stop apologizing about that, Y/N. You know you can count on me for anything, so of course I didn’t mind driving you to the hospital. I remember even blasting some ABBA on the way over there so you’d have something else to focus on instead of the pain you endured.”

You smiled at the memory. “Didn’t we also go out for ice cream afterwards?”

He nodded, lightly rubbing his arm. “Yeah, it was a lot of fun. I mean, I always have fun when I’m with you.”

Your breath caught in your throat at his last few words, blinking slowly. “O-Oh.”

Oh? That’s all you have to say? Nice one, Y/N.

Sam’s heart dropped. Fuck. Maybe you weren’t talking about him after all. Maybe it was Danny or one of his brothers that you had a crush on and he was mistaken about it. He wanted nothing more than for the ground to swallow him whole right about now. Being anywhere but here sounded splendid to him.

“Y-Y/N, I—“

“Ihavefunwhenimwithyoutoo,” you muttered all too quickly, and poor Sam barely even understood what you said. He didn’t have the chance to ask you to repeat yourself because you quickly walked away to the back and he was left with a tug at his chest, frowning.

Within the next few days after Sam’s tea spill, literally, things between you and him became...awkward. Something went off in him to become even more clumsy than normal and forget everything he’s ever known when you’re near him. He’d get flustered, stuttering a lot, messing up orders, dropping dishes, and nearly tripping all the time. He hated it so much and wished he could just muster up the courage and apologize for being such an idiot and confess his feelings to you. Even during your hangouts with the guys, Sam and you wouldn’t interact as much and honestly you were well aware you were being super childish and immature about the situation. Sam did too, and he needed to snap the fuck out of it.

The next few days at work Sam would ignore Danny’s little side comments about his immaturity and continued working in silence. For the rest of his shift he didn’t talk much to anyone other than the customers. He wanted to talk to you when he had the chance, but then he’d quickly back out and walk the opposite direction.

He couldn’t figure out why it was so futile for him to just grow a sack and tell you he likes you. He’d never gone through this struggle before. Then again, as cheesy as it sounded, the other girls he’d asked out in the past couldn’t compare to you. Never in a million years, and maybe he was too afraid that he didn’t deserve someone as amazing as you.

Nearing closing that same day, it was only you, Sam, and Danny. The flow of customers died down and not many people came in towards the end of the night which you were grateful for. It finally gave you the chance to relax a bit and start cleaning things up ahead of time so you wouldn’t have to stay after. Joey and a nice warm bath were waiting for you at home.

While Sam decided on working the register and you and Danny would clean, he grabbed your arm and led you into the back.

“What are you two still doing not dating each other or talking?! It’s been way too long now, Y/N. And since it’s only us three tonight, you have no other choice. Come on, I know you can’t take this any longer, and he can’t either. I can take over the register for a bit while you and him talk.”

You chewed on your bottom lip, contemplating his offering. As incredibly thankful as you were for his help, you were also scared shitless of the possible outcome. Perhaps it was finally time though that you say fuck it and say what you needed to. You couldn’t go on for any longer to keep your feelings bottled up inside. Maybe, just maybe he might feel the same way, and by God you hoped that would be the case.

Inhaling, you nodded slowly and made your way back to where you were. Your eyes searched for Sam and saw he was busy making a drink, except there was no one else here besides you, him and Danny. It could’ve been a drink for him, so you shrugged this off and went towards the sink to start washing the dishes.

A few moments later, Sam cleared his throat from behind you. “H-Hey Y/N, so um, I know the créme brûlée latte is your favorite, and I thought I’d make you one. You seemed really stressed and busy today and I wanted to try to cheer you up. I hope that’s okay.”

Your heart swelled at his generosity and your cheeks burned as you felt his gaze burning into you, his palms soaking from nervousness. “Sam, you didn’t have to do that for me.”

He shrugged casually, a small smile on his lips and his cheeks tinted a light pink. “It’s okay, I wanted to. And I uh, tried my best on the art. Hope you like it.”

Raising a brow, your gaze dropped on your cup and your eyes widened as you saw what he was referring to. A small coffee cup with the words I like you a latte around it.

“It’s true,” Sam chewed on his bottom lip while running his fingers through his hair. “I really like you Y/N, and I’m so sorry for acting like such an idiot these last few days around you. I don’t know what came over me, and I’m sorry that I didn’t talk to you much either.”

Setting your cup on the counter, you took a step closer to him and cupped his cheek, rubbing your thumb softly against his soft skin. “You don’t have to apologize for anything, Sam. I’m sorry for not talking to you too, as well as for making a fool of myself. I tend to do that around someone I like.”

Finally, the realization dawned on Sam as a wide grin pulled at his lips. “Glad we’re on the same boat.”

“I-Is it alright if I kiss you?” he asked shyly, his eyes sparkling as he looked at you.

You giggled. “You don’t even have to ask, loverboy.” You playfully rolled your eyes and cupped his other cheek before connecting his lips with yours.

A smirk pulled at Danny’s lips as he glanced at the two of you, shaking his head. Josh and Jake owed him $20 now. 

It was about damn time that Sam and you finally espresso’d your love for each other. 

tagging these lovely folks bc they helped inspired me and their work is amazing <3 @godlygreta​ / @flowervanfleet​ / @dharma-divine​

#sam kiszka imagine #sam kiszka x reader #greta van fic #greta van fleet #sam kiszka

[everyhowlmarksthedead]

forced landing.

Gif credits to the author.

FRANCISCO ‘CATFISH’ MORALES.

TRIPLE FRONTIER | USEFUL LINKS.

❝ words: about 1.2k.

❝ summary: watching the sunrise doesn't go as you expected.

❝ a / n: according to Google, Triple Frontier was filmed in Hawaii. don't forget to comment and reblog if you liked it, i'd really appreciate it!

“Baby… Hey, baby”.

The soft whispers fall onto your ear being wrapped by two strong arms that squeeze you gently, as a pair of lips spread sweet short kisses all over the right side of your face.

“Amor, wake up”.

You grunt sleepy hiding in the gap between his neck and his shoulder, tangling your fingers in his brown curly hair, causing Frankie to giggle with that kind of laugh you'd kill for.

“C'mon, we gotta go”.

“It's still dark outside”. You whine wanting to continue sleeping under his firm grip.

“I know, but I wanna show you somethin'. C'mon, baby… I'm gonna make some coffee. Take a shower and get ready”.

As soon as he pulls himself away from you, you can't help but sob disappointed, sinking your face into the pillow to drown there another grunt before laying your eyes on your boyfriend dressed with a pair of dark pants and a mahogany shirt opened over a white t-shirt. Needless to say, he has already his favorite Standard cap on and his Timberland camel boots leading his steps downstairs. It should be illegal to look this good.

It's almost seven in the morning when you reach the airport, driving directly to the private runway where a Cessna Skycatcher is waiting for you. Turning at Frankie, who is focused on the road yet, you pucker your lips containing a joyful smile. He always knows how to surprise you and make getting up early worthwhile.

As usual, your boyfriend checks and makes sure that your headphones and your microphone are on point and working, before opening the door for you and helping you to jump in. Once everything is settled up, he starts to touch some buttons over his head before pulling back and to the left a lever to turn on the motor and the blades of the helicopter. There's nothing that Frankie can love more than flying with you by his copilot. You have the same adventure spirit he has, complimenting him to perfection. Following him on any crazy journey.

It's dawning over Hawaii when you reach the clear sky, fascinated with the views in front of your eyes. The sun seems like it is resurfacing from the blue dark sea, creating an orangey-pink horizon that has you totally captivated.

“This is Pilot from Cessna, four, six, one, to Launch Control, you copy me?”

Tilting your head to Frankie, watching him pressing a brown button close to your kneel, you can't help but raise an eyebrow quickly being pushed to reality when you don't have any response from the air-traffic controllers. You can see Frankie frowning, pretending he's not worried or confused. Actually, he's an experimented pilot, what could go wrong?

“Launch Control, this is Francisco Morales from Cessna, four, six, one. We're getting height, you copy that?”

He waits for a couple of seconds, clicking his tongue and closing his eyes for a second. You don't know too much about his job, but you know very well that he can't continue the flight without permission, or knowing if any plane is close. Turning the control wheel to the left to come back, much to his regret. Hearing him cursing in Spanish, the aircraft's wings stagger in the maneuver.

“Mierda”. He growls when a non-stop beep sounds flashing a red light over your heads.

You're losing height and the plane is about to dive.

“Fra— Frankie, what's goin'on?”

“Stay calm, baby. Stay calm”. He says squeezing your thigh for a second. “Listen, I need you to take the manual. It's possible we have to land in the sea”.

“No, no, no, no… You have to be fucking kidding me!”

“Baby, breathe”.

You're freaking out with your heart racing and your fingers shaking. He continues trying to contact the Launch Control, while you do your best to find the manual under your seat, bowing down as much as you can.

“Page two. Open it up on page two”.

You swallow heavily, scared like never before. It's not a question of trust, it's that you're too young to die.

“Don't panic, baby, okay? Just read me the manual”.

“Forced landing?” You babble about to cry, sniffing through your nose.

“Yeah”.

Frankie has never told you about his forced landings to not worry you, so you're guessing it's not his first time by the calm he's keeping. Or maybe he's just a pretender and he's more frightened than you are.

“Verify flight ring engagement?” You're reading automatically, without thinking or focusing on the words you're uttering.

“Got it”. He nods his head.

“Initiate Engagement Process, follow steps eleven to fourteen”.

“Okay, got it”.

“Fuel Selector Valve… check?”

“Wait, we're getting some response”. Frankie whispers, pretending to pay attention to something through the headphones.

“You're lying”. You reply breathlessly because no one is talking from the Launch Control, not being able to control the anxiety installing within your chest as you continue losing height. “The Pil—”.

You can't finish the sentence, as you have read what's next. Your eyes now are filled with other kinds of tears.

“Go on, baby, I need you to keep reading”.

“The Pilot in Comm— Command… God, I hate you so much, Frankie”. Cleaning your tears with the back of his hand, you wave it after to have some air. “The Pilot in Command will love the passenger forever”.

“Check”. Your boyfriend replies, turning at you for a second with a funny smile curving his lips. “Keep going, amor”.

“Will you marry the Pilot in Command?”

You can't help but leave the manual on your lap, while Frankie stabilizes the flight, covering your face with both hands breaking into a silent cry. A minute ago you were about to die and now you're about to get engaged. Feeling a tender kiss on your temple, you look at him running into a red velvet box opened with a gold ring on it. The small diamond on top of it shines with the dawn, causing you to laugh at the same time the tears fall from your eyes.

“I ha— hate you”. You chuckle cleaning again your cheeks and drying your hands in your t-shirt before taking the piece of jewelry.

Frankie watches you putting it in your finger, pouting straight to him, as his chest is swollen with pride and happiness. You cup his face onto your palms and crash your lips on his, peppering them once and once —until he gets too distracted and the aircraft makes a sharp move to the left.

“I'm… fucking done, Frankie! Land the damn plane!” You scream, panicking again, causing him to laugh loudly, having much more fun than he expected. “Jesus Christ… I'm not gonna fly with you ever in my life again, I swear it!”

Your hands now are firmly gripping your seat, as if in case of a falling to the ocean this could help you. What a clown.

“Hey, you…” Your now future husband claims your attention grabbing your hand, bringing it to his mouth to kiss the back of it. “I love you, Mrs. Morales”.

GENERAL TAG LIST: @mayans-sauce @peoniarose @destynelseclipsa @band-psycho @myakai13 @petlaufeyson @-im-fantastic- @horsesandwolvesaremyanimals @rocketqueen @rosieposie0624 @ellyseveronica @Jessprins13 @diaryofkali @ravenmoore14 @starrynite7114 @kenbechillin @miahelen @monkeyluver4546 @sheeshgivemeabreak @jadesamhart @rawrlittlepanda-95 @megapeacelovemusic-blog @katsav17

TRIPLE FRONTIER: @phoenixhalliwell @goldielocks2004 @pedritomando @spideysimpossiblegirl @im-an-adult-ish

FRANKIE MORALES: @agirllovespancakes

#francisco catfish morales #francisco 'catfish' morales #frankie catfish morales #frankie morales x you #frankie morales x reader #francisco morales #frankie morales #triple frontier imagine #triple frontier fanfiction #triple frontier #pedro pascal imagine #pedro pascal x you #pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal x y/n #pedro pascal fluff

[ddullahan]

hadestown au 1

HI SO My anxiety has been through the fuckin roof for the past few weeks and in a fit of stress I deleted the first look of the bees hadestown au that I posted a few weeks ago. I’m feeling much better now and I wanted to repost it because I really am super excited about it >< Anyway, second verse, maybe same as the first, here we go! ---------------- it’s an old song As all tales begin, there comes a moment of question. The precipice we all stand at, toes hanging over the edge, eager to take the plunge. The question, different for every eye and ear turned to the story, starts as a feeling. It buoys us through the long swathes of paragraphs ahead. It seeps into our minds, and pushes us off the edge. We have that moment of freefall. Of realisation. We have to trust in something to catch us. Like most fairy tales, it begins with once upon a time. There laid a railroad track.   If you've ever heard the rails sing on a good, windy day, you'd know the sound sticks to the back of your mind. There to stay until the dark of night, when it creeps up to whisper wanderlust into your bones. The song of the rails is a low and resonant thing, humming into the willows scattered along the railroad sides. They used to say the rails were the Fates groaning in your ears. Urging you along. Waiting in anticipation for the train to come to call. Waiting for the story to start its freefall. The metal likes to wail beneath blackened wheels on hot, summer days. Days much like the one in which our story begins. Once upon a time - Metal chatters under the weight of an ancient, scorch-marked train. Decorated with blacked out windows. Panes of glass soot-stained, like they’d been brushed with fire one too many times. Coal smoke bursts from its chimney with a grudge, flooding the gray skies in the type of black smog that you can taste in the back of your mouth, long after the train’s disappeared. It was painted white once, a long, long time ago. A gift from the boss man down below for his flowering wife; but it’s one of those gifts you shove in the back of your drawer. One of those things that you spend your nights lying awake in bed, thinking in guilty chords. The train still runs, but the old white sides are now black and cold. Like the panting of dogs on the skin of your heels, the wind still blows hot behind it. The only thing it tows are souls to their final destination, but it won't take you if you ain't got the gold to board. It’s a fact almost everyone knows. ‘Cause the old legends say the road to hell could lead you out of poverty, but you gotta pay the toll to get that good money. The wind cracks and snaps after the train; sends the short ribbons of inky black hair whipping. Snapping into the brown-skinned face of a hungry young woman.   Blake Belladonna’s eyes glint like knives with a debt to pay, and her steps are sure footed against the rolling rocks under her boots. She wears a weathered bag slung over her shoulder, and a once-warm leather duster now worn to shit and hole-y. She seems small among the billowing willows and smoggy skies. She doesn't know where she's going or how she got to the railroad at all - but she knows how to turn her collar against the wind. And she knows how to run.   Metal shrieks, pulling her eyes up like a hand to the chin. She’s left to watch as the ruined, black omen of a train screams past a small, dilapidated station. It’s the only structure for miles. The cicadas are screaming along to the wailing of the tracks in a symphony, until the locomotive vanishes over the curve of a distant hill. The station's dry, mud-caked windows send silt drifting to cracked, rotting floorboards. The coke-bottle thick panes rattle angrily in their fragile frames, and then come to find their peace once more. Damn this is a dump, the young woman thinks, approaching the station. But it'll have to do. The sun's rays sink into her skull and turn her warm brown skin hot to the touch. It's far too hot for April. Stepping into the shade is an immediate relief, until the hot wind kicks up again. It blasts in her face as if to remind her it's there. As if she could ever forget. She's used to the way it whispers starvation in her ears. She throws the door open and escapes from the wind; stumbles her way into the empty station. Small and dusty like it’d been forgotten, filled with only two benches facing each other and a single door hiding behind them in the gloom. There's a sign on the door that reads "End o  th  line Caf ". Faintly, she can hear music behind it. Blake doesn't hesitate, and heads for the door. The knob breaks off in her hand, but it feels familiar and solid so she pockets it and heads inside. Follows the hallway and the pull of her feet to the music. The walls grow darker and thicker with polished wood. Her steps don't seem to echo and the music has since paused. The quiet starts to make her anxious. She doesn't like dark hallways. She's dreamt of them enough for a lifetime. The further she goes, the more her unease starts to grow and the more she starts to wonder if she's been here before. It's ridiculous, really. This is the farthest south she'd ever gone. Or was she in the east? Her anxious heart speeds up for a reason she can't see, and it's like her feet already know where to go. The hallway turns suddenly and she finds herself standing at the rim of an amphitheater of sorts. The music fades back in. There's a band jamming to soft jazz in the stands, people crowded and conversing at tiny tables scattered about the flat floor at the bottom. There's a man at a piano playing a diddy, there's a flicker of gold in the kitchen beyond. It's alive in a way that she hadn't seen in a long time, and she finds her feet eager to join the dancing 'round the tables below. She takes a step and nearly runs into another woman, decked out in a crisp white and red suit. She’s older, maybe late thirties or mid forties - has this eternally kind, yet melancholy smile. Her features are fair, but tired. Her black hair is pulled back like Blake’s, but tipped with red like the ends had been dipped in paint. Blake apologises immediately - "E-excuse me, sorry," and starts picking her way down to the tables. "No worries dear," She hears faintly behind her, the older woman's face already blurred from her memory. She blinks and suddenly she’s on the bottom floor, with the movers and shakers rattling cups with their stomping jive. She wants to move with them, but she's already reaching for an empty chair, like her hand was following its own storyline. The flash of gold catches her attention again. Her feet slip into a shallow groove in the floor, and she is rooted. Something crashes, and her eyes follow the clattering sharp shards of porcelain. One piece with purple trim bounces off a brown boot. She notices a hole near the big toe. Blake looks up, and her heart decides to freefall.   All the way across the floor stands a young woman in an apron. A bucket of newly broken dishes lay at her feet.   Her eyes are so pale and pretty they have their own orbit amidst the aging lights above. Her blonde hair ripples into liquid gold, twisted messily into a bun. Broad shoulders are cinched into position with suspenders and there's an off-white shirt rolled up to her elbows, the hem tucked into a pair of trousers. The skin of her strong forearms are tanned and riddled with freckles, spreading constellations all the way up her neck and across the gradual slope of her nose.   Oh, there's something familiar about all of this. Blake feels it in her bones. There’s something familiar in the ‘o’ of her startled mouth. Something about the empty hands she hovers, still holding an imaginary bucket of plates. She's got those sharp lilac eyes pinned on something in front of her.   It's a jolt to realise she's staring right at Blake. Though suddenly, that older woman in the white and red suit sweeps by that freckled face, and it's with a smile and a wave that their staring contest ends. No one claims the victory as the spell breaks. The older woman asks something that Blake can't hear, but she knows her voice is soft and sweet. Her feet move like she’s skating on air, and Blake decides to focus on that. She focuses on that instead of the heartbeat in her chest. She doesn’t think about how her pulse no longer feels like it belongs to herself. The golden woman nods stiffly and turns. Follows the gliding woman to the back of the house, and Blake is left with a heart migrating into her throat. The hungry young woman quickly tears her gaze away, uproots her feet from the grooves in the floor, and sits at the table she'd claimed. Her skin feels clammy. Her body is buzzing. She shrugs off her bag and coat, then pulls her bag into her lap. As if there was anything in there worth protecting. It could be minutes, it could be hours. She's really not sure, when a shadow falls over her table, and the sight aches like an old friend. A bottle of some fizzy drink is set gently before her, the bottle cap rattling towards her side of the table. Sunflower Pop, it reads. She looks up. The poor young woman, with her liquid gold locks wrapped in a messy topknot, stares right back. They're both struck speechless.   If there was ever a moment where destiny fills the lungs, it was then. Anticipation strings itself between their ribs, the cords like telephone wires humming their universal tune. I found you. I found you. I found you. But neither of them say a word to each other. The anticipation feels closer to a noose than a cup-and-string, the longer they spend breathing in the other's presence. The hungry young woman with hair black as night, just couldn't look away. Couldn't make her voice work right. The gold haired woman's jaw seems to work, but there was still no sound to be heard. Eventually the woman just turns around and walks away, toddling and tripping like her knees were unsteady. Blake sits where she left her, feeling much more than sympathy. She feels like her chair would collapse with her if she tried to follow. And again, there are voices whispering in the back of her mind. The wind already found her inside this place, its voices groaning and hollow. It always finds her, and she knows. She knows it always will. But as her slender fingers wrap around the neck of the bottle left on her table, Blake tastes the fizz and hums. Feels the crackle of carbonation all across her skin as she tracks the tall blonde with her eyes. The wind doesn’t feel like a whip in this vibrant, lively place. That has to count for something. Maybe she should stick around, just for one day. Maybe she would stick around and wait for the band to play.

#rwby hadestown au #rwby fanfiction #bumbleby #bumbleby hadestown au #yang xiao long #blake belladonna #i'm still waiting to finish the whole thing before posting it on ao3 #but the more i reread it #the more excited i am #i fucking love this au #thank y'all for your patience T.T #and thank you yangsbandana #for encouraging me to post it again i appreciate you v much T.T #rwby

[lifeofkaze]

When Stars Ignite - Chapter 3

HPHM Rockstar AU

A/N:

General Warning: This whole fic has a general warning of being NSFW / 18+. We will give specific warnings for every chapter in itself, but several adult themes will be more or less present in every chapter, may it be explicitly or in mention. These include sexual topics, drug abuse, (ab)use of alcohol, smoking and a whole lot of cursing.

Specific Warning: Mentions of alcohol, mentions of NSFW content, suggestive NSFW content

~~~

Find the masterpost here, the previous chapter here and the next one here. The songs featured before every chapter can be found on this pretty badass playlist here.

~~~

This work is a collaboration with @the-al-chemist

Taglist: @slytherindisaster @carewyncromwell @night-rhea

Chapter 3: Dirty Little Secret

I’ll keep you my dirty little secret

Don’t tell anyone or you’ll be just another regret

Hope that you can keep it

My dirty little secret

~ The All-American Rejects - Dirty Little Secret ~

All three girls watched as Orion left the private area of the nightclub, two of them looking confused, one of them trying her hardest not to laugh.

“What’s got into him all of a sudden?” Merula asked, looking baffled.

“Seems like Jameson’s show rattled the poor guy alright,” Skye cackled.

Lizzie joined into her laughter. “As if. I don’t think anything could shake him, let alone me.”

She hid her smirk by taking a sip of her cocktail.

The next fifteen minutes felt like an eternity to Lizzie. She passed the time by listening to Skye and Merula’s chit chat, sipping her drink and nodding from time to time. She had to fight the urge to bounce her foot in impatience and not glance at her watch repeatedly. Not quite succeeding, Lizzie caught herself tapping her finger against her glass to the beat of the music; she willed herself to stop.

When she had finally finished her drink, she rose from her seat, stretched her already aching back and smiled at her remaining two friends.

“I’m afraid Orion had a point earlier, I always forget how exhausting playing a full show is,” she yawned and reached for her bag. “I’ll get a cab back home to get some sleep in.”

“Alright, let us just finish our drinks and we’re ready to go,” Skye said immediately, but Lizzie could tell she wanted to stay for a little longer; she always did.

“No, it’s alright, go and have some fun. Once we’re out of London there won’t be much time for that anymore.”

Skye scowled at her. “You sure? Not that keen on you going back all by yourself.”

Merula rolled her eyes. “Just let her go, if she wants to. If she gets kidnapped, no one can chew their captor’s ear off with that awful cheeriness like her. We’ll have her back in no time.”

Usually she would have shot back at Merula but right now Lizzie was glad she was playing into her hands. She was buzzing to get out of the nightclub, so when Skye tried to speak up again, she just shook her head.

“I’ll be fine. I’ll text you once I’m back, alright?”

Without giving Skye another chance to reply, she smiled at both of them, turned around and walked towards the exit.

The cool air of the summer night felt wonderful compared to the stuffiness of the packed nightclub as Lizzie stepped outside. She buried her hands in the pockets of her leather jacket and bowed her head as she passed the group of photographers always present in front of high profile establishments like this.

It was her luck that they cared more for soap stars and minor starlets stumbling home on the arm of a football player than one relatively sober person leaving all on her own. It was only a few clicks and flashes she had to make her way through before the mob had already focused on the next familiar face emerging from the doors behind her. She just hoped she had waited long enough for no one to make the connection.

Checking the message on her phone telling her where to go, she quickly walked a few steps away from the crowd until she reached the entrance to a small side street. Turning her head, Lizzie made sure no one was watching her before she stepped into the darkness of the alley. Anyone still in possession of half of their senses would have told her to stick to the main street, but Lizzie knew where she was going.

A smile stole onto her face as she walked towards the figure stepping out of the shadows.

“What the hell took you so long?”

Ignoring his question, Lizzie sped up her steps until she had reached Orion, grabbing him by his jacket and pulling him towards her. Her lips crashed onto his and his arms immediately went around her as he kissed her with the same desperate hunger she was feeling herself.

She buried her hands in his dark hair and sighed against his mouth as she felt his hands wandering over the curve of her waistline before his fingers hooked through the loops of her jeans.

“So fierce tonight,” she chuckled as they broke apart for a moment. Both of them were breathing heavily, Orion’s skin feeling hot to her touch. There was a fire burning inside his eyes that made her shudder.

“You did keep me waiting,” he murmured into her ear. His breath ghosting over the sensitive skin of her neck was giving her goosebumps all over and he knew that full well.

“I couldn’t really down my drink in one go and run after you, could I? Your fault you left so early.”

She would have loved to go straight after him but that would have been way too suspicious; their little affair - if one could even call it that - was a secret both of them very much intended to keep from the others.

“After that show you’ve given? What did you expect?”

She had to laugh at his words, her eyes twinkling with promise as they found his. Her finger traced the line of his jaw, the stubble of his beard biting into her fingertip.

“I knew you’d love it.”

She rose onto her tiptoes to reach his ear as she whispered, “Want me to remind you what else my tongue can do?”

“I don’t think I’m the only one eager for that.”

Despite herself, Lizzie’s breath hitched and she bit her bottom lip as she felt Orion’s hands travel downwards from her waist. He stopped over the back pockets of her trousers, squeezing her bum as he captured her lips in another searing kiss.

Her head spun for a moment, dizzy from exhaustion, alcohol and Orion’s touch. She had to will herself to break away from him again, this time taking a step back out of his reach.

“Come on then,” she purred, twirling a strand of her hair around her finger as she looked him up and down, “What are you waiting for?”

But Orion knew how to play her game as well. Mirroring her grin, he simply walked past her in the direction of the main street, not sparing so much as another look. He passed so closely that he was almost brushing against her; the electricity between them was palpable and Lizzie felt her mouth go dry as she watched him from behind.

Orion waited a moment before motioning for her to follow him when he was sure no one would pay any attention to them.

While they were waiting for their cab, not being able to touch Orion when all she wanted was to feel his lips on her skin almost killed Lizzie; judging from his tensed shoulders and nervous fingers drumming against his leg during their ride home, that feeling was mutual.

It was no use, though; as long as they were in public, there was nothing they could do. Making out in the alley with a bunch of reporters around the corner had already been a hell of a risk.

The drive to Orion’s place in Nottinghill felt like an eternity; by the time they had finally reached his flat, Lizzie’s skin was positively tingling. Not being quick enough for her taste, she plucked the key from his hand and unlocked the door herself before stepping into the dark hallway first.

She turned around in the doorframe, shooting him a cocky smile over her shoulder.

“Are you coming? I think I promised you a show.”

***

The pale sunlight of the early morning seeped into the room from the skylight above Orion’s bed. Falling onto Lizzie’s face, it made her stir in her sleep, slowly waking her up from her dream. She tried holding on to it for a moment longer, but it drifted out of her grasp as her body was waking up until it was completely out of reach.

Sighing wistfully, Lizzie turned around and propped herself up onto her elbows. Her lips curved into a smile as her eyes fell onto Orion, who was still sleeping next to her. He was lying on his stomach with his face buried in the fluffy white pillows, his breath deep and even.

Now, in the light of the new day, Lizzie could see the bright red scratches running over his shoulder blades. She blushed a little; maybe she had gone a little overboard in the heat of the moment.

The sight of Orion’s maltreated back made the memories of last night return to her. The thought of his rough fingertips exploring every inch of her body, the sweet bite of his unshaved cheek against the inside of her thighs sent a pleasant shiver down her spine even now. The way she had relished the feeling of his skin against hers as he had coaxed wave after wave of pleasure from her body made her realise how starved she had been for his touch.

It almost surprised Lizzie how quickly sleeping with Orion had become her favourite way of winding down after a show. The sex was fantastic and the fact that no one knew what they were doing was only adding to the excitement. They were aware that it was one of the band’s most important rules they were breaking time and time again: No meddling with the other members. According to Ethan, getting involved with each other could cause nothing but trouble.

However, Lizzie was enjoying their time together way too much to just give up on it like that; free from any form of commitment, it was a bonus to their friendship neither of them wanted to miss. She could definitely confirm that Orion’s fingers weren’t only nimble when it came to playing the guitar.

Without really thinking about it, Lizzie reached out towards him. Her fingers were tracing the lines of the tattoo covering the whole of his back, from the now slightly scratched eagle wings spanning from shoulder to shoulder, down to the woven circle of the dreamcatcher the eagle was carrying in its claws. Her fingers tiptoed lightly over the pattern, joining up the beads worked into the web. Orion had told her that each of them represented a memory dear to him; she noticed he had some new ones added since the last time she had seen it.

Some of the inked feathers flowing down from the circle past beneath the eagle’s tail were new to her as well. Her fingers were wandering over them, dancing across his lower back.

Completely consumed by what she was doing, Lizzie hadn’t noticed Orion waking up. She jumped as he spoke to her, her eyes flying towards his face.

“What are you doing?”

Orion’s head was turned towards her, his eyes still closed, but a cheeky smile was playing around his lips.

Lizzie was spared an answer when he opened his eyes to look at her. “I’m surprised you’re still here.”

Realising how his words must have sounded, his smile turned softer as he closed his eyes again. “Don’t stop though.”

Setting her hand onto his back again, Lizzie let her fingers wander up his spine. She lightly tapped them to a rhythm only she could hear and noticed the tiny shiver running through him when she brushed them downwards again, her fingernails grazing his skin ever so gently.

“You never stay the whole night when we’re touring,” Orion murmured sleepily.

Lizzie hummed in response, not taking her eyes off the beautiful picture painted on his skin.

“I missed this,” she murmured under her breath, more to herself than to him.

“I missed you.”

Caught by surprise at his words, her movements stopped abruptly. Orion’s eyes were soft as he watched her, taking in his shirt hanging loose on her body. Her open hair was still a tangled mess from last night

“Why would you say that?” Lizzie laughed, trying to mask her being caught unaware with a poke to his ribcage.

Orion laughed along and evaded her by rolling onto his side. He quickly caught her wrist and held it away from him. A grin formed on his face as he shrugged.

“Because it’s true; nothing relaxes me more than you do.”

Lizzie snorted. “Is that so?”

With a laugh, he let go of her hand and let himself fall back into the pillows. “Do I look not relaxed to you?”

“If anything, you look overly smug to me,” Lizzie shot back.

She grabbed her pillow and hit him with it before quickly jumping off the bed to get out of his reach. She searched her jacket that was among the pile of clothes littering the floor for her phone and a hair tie, all the while feeling Orion’s eyes on her.

When Lizzie had found what she had been looking for, she tied her unbrushed hair back and straightened up again. Unlocking her phone, she quickly scrolled through her messages.

Out of the corner of her eye she saw Orion getting up as well, stretching his back.

“Come to think of it, I might have overestimated how balanced my body is this morning,” Lizzie heard him complain, “my muscles hurt like hell.”

She didn’t even bother looking up from her phone. “Tell me about it.”

Orion finally caught her attention when he stepped closely behind her. “I could do something about that, you know.”

Lizzie had to stifle a sigh when he gently began rubbing the tension from her shoulders, knowing exactly where her tight spots were; he had developed a knack for this she had come to appreciate.

Enjoying his touch for a moment longer, Lizzie pulled herself together and shook his hands off. She turned around, holding her phone up for him to see.

“Forget it, I have a breakfast date.”

“With Charlie, I presume?”

“Charlie is busy interviewing that new pyro guy.”

Orion tilted his head. “Who else then? Someone I need to be jealous of?”

Lizzie chuckled at the notion. “Only if you consider Skye as competition. But we both know you’re not the jealous type,” she shrugged. “And why would you be, anyway?”

She started gathering her strewn about things. “In any case, I need to get ready. I could really use a hot shower.”

Looking down at herself, still dressed in Orion’s shirt, she plucked at the collar and chuckled. “You’ll get this back another time.”

She turned to leave but didn’t make it far. Orion’s arms closed around her from behind, his lips nuzzling against the exposed skin of her neck. “Your wish and mine don’t necessarily rule each other out.”

Goosebumps were spreading all over her skin at his touch but she pulled herself together and broke free of his embrace.

“Tempting, but no. I can’t really show up at Skye’s place wearing last night’s outfit or, even better, your shirt.”

Her smile turned into a smirk as she looked him up and down, taking in his bronzed skin, lean but still muscular build and tousled black hair, regretting her decision already. “I might take you up on that massage later, though.”

She tried to leave a second time before she could change her mind, but Orion caught her wrist, pulling her back towards him.

“Do I get a kiss?”

Lizzie was already smiling; she had anticipated the question. He always asked it before she left, and her answer was the same every time. “You already got much more than that.”

She took a step back towards him, rose to her tiptoes and kissed him on the cheek. “Maybe next time.”

Orion laughed as he finally let her go. “I’ll get my kiss one day.”

Lizzie dipped her head back as she laughed and turned towards the door. “We’ll see about that.”

#hphm #harry potter hogwarts mystery #hphm au #rockstar au #orion amari #lizzie jameson #when stars ignite #besties collaborate

[spine-buster]

The President Wears Prada (William Nylander) | Chapter 25

A/N: So this chapter begins the first mention of COVID-19 for the story.  I know it’s not much but I did want to put a little disclaimer because I know it was a traumatic event for many people, especially those who were affected by it personally.  We will obviously get deeper into it as the story progresses in the next chapters (judging by the date...it’s time!) 

Also, no @’ing me about what happens here with a certain someone.

March 2nd, 2020

Aberdeen Bloom was paying attention to the news at the airport.

“While the first case of what epidemiologists are referring to as COVID-19 was recorded in Toronto on January 25th, the novel coronavirus is still baffling some scientists in terms of its symptoms.  They range from severe in some, to completely asymptomatic in others.  While there are currently less than twenty cases in Toronto thus far, Ontario health officials have recorded three news cases today.  One is a man in his 60s who returned on a flight from Egypt, while the other two are women in their 60s and 70s returning on a flight from Egypt.  Public health officials are encouraging individuals to wash their hands frequently and exercise caution whenever and wherever possible.”

“Want some hand sanitizer?” John asked from beside her.  He was laid out in the chair beside her while her knees were against her chest.

She nodded, leaving her bag of pretzels in her lap before she extended her hand and he squirted some Purell onto her hand.  John always had everything readily available – hand sanitizer, band aids, healthy granola bars, breath mints – she was sure he probably had a spare hair elastic in his backpack too, and a full surgery kit for all she knew.  She rubbed the sanitizer in between her hands.  “What do you think about all this?” she asked, motioning towards the TV monitor.

John shrugged.  “I’m a bit nervous about it,” he admitted.  “I know that Aryne is taking some extra precautions with Jace.  A lot of her friends from Queen’s ended up going to med school so she’s friends with a lot of doctors and listening to their advice.”

“I guess we should all be.”

“Wouldn’t hurt, right?” John asked rhetorically.  “Better safe than sorry.  What do you think about it?”

Aberdeen pursed her lips slightly.  “I have no clue.  Science goes way above my head.  But if doctors and epidemiologists are going to tell me to do something – or not do something – so I don’t get sick, I’m going to do it – or not do it – whatever.”

“Atta girl,” John smiled.  “Just listen to the experts.”

“That’s why I listen to you about hockey,” she winked.

He laughed out loud.  “You butter me up too much.  What are you looking for?  A granola bar?  You already have pretzels.”

“Not everything with me has to do with food.”

“Really?”

She pinched him.

***

March 5th, 2020

It was 24 Celsius in Los Angeles, and Aberdeen was loving it.  Though the Leafs had suffered a bit of an embarrassing loss to San Jose the night before, today the team had a day off before they had back to back games against the Kings and Ducks.  Some of them were going shopping on Rodeo Drive (Auston, Frederik), and some were visiting old friends since being traded (Kyle, Jack), but most were doing exactly what Aberdeen wanted to do: going to the beach.

They decided on Malibu Beach.  It was only a thirty minute drive from the hotel, so Aberdeen put on her bathing suit and packed herself in a car with John, Jason, and Justin Holl.  William, Rasmus, Kappy, and Pierre followed in another, with Tyson and Mitch tagging along in the last car too.  It may not have been super-hot to Californians, but for sun-starved Canadians, it would do.  The sun was out, there wasn’t a cloud in the sky, and she was going to tan the entire afternoon.  She would take advantage of it as much as possible.

As she helped set up the blankets and beach towels, she watched as Mitch and Tyson already stripped down to their bathing suits and ran into the ocean together.  Pierre was setting up some Bluetooth speakers and John was passing around the sunscreen.  The visual of these men rubbing sunscreen across their abs made Aberdeen’s heart flutter – but then the image of them having to slather sunscreen all over each other’s backs brought her back down to earth.  She chuckled to herself and shook her head.

“Aberdeen, sunscreen!” John tossed the bottle towards her.  She caught it and stripped down to her tankini before squirting some onto her legs and arms, making sure to cover herself thoroughly.  She could tell William was watching but trying not to make it seem like he was.  Jason took care of her back.  

The guys did their own thing while Aberdeen read her book and tanned.  She could hear them screaming every now and then and watched as they gave each other piggyback rides and splashed water at each other like they were a peewee hockey team on a weekend tournament.  Every now and again someone would come back to the blankets and beach towels to relax, but soon enough, they were back in the ocean, being loud and obnoxious but happy, happy boys.

“Whatcha reading?” Tyson asked as he walked towards her, wet from the salt water and sand sticking to his legs.  She flashed the book at him – Milkman by Anna Burns – and he squinted his eyes to see it properly in the sunlight.  “Is it about milk?” he asked.

She shorted.  She remembered back to when she was reading Women Talking by Miriam Toews and William asked “Do women talk in it?” like a smartass.  “It’s about a woman in what’s very obviously Belfast coming of age during the Troubles.  I thought it might give me some more insight into what my mom grew up in.”

“Is it any good?  Was it as good as the one you were reading last week on the plane?  Normal Girls or whatever it was?”

Aberdeen giggled.  “Normal People, you mean?  No, it’s not as good as that.  Fuck, I loved that book.”

“I know.  You wouldn’t shut up about it!” he joked, wiping his body off.  From behind him, Aberdeen could see John making his way towards them.  William was still off in the ocean, throwing a football between him, Pierre, and Mitch.  “Think you can teach Mitch how to read?”

Aberdeen smiled.  “I can certainly try.”

As if on cue, Mitch’s booming voice was heard.  “Hey T-Bear!  Get over here!” he yelled, putting everything he had into his throw of the football so it reached Tyson, who caught it expertly.

“See ya later, Aberdeen,” he said before running off, throwing the football towards Pierre who had to dive into the water to catch it.

Instead of focusing on the water cascading down Pierre’s abs or the sunlight hitting William’s broad shoulders perfectly, making him look like some Norse god, she focused her attention on John.  “You feeling good?” she asked.

“The best,” he nodded, wiping himself off before lying the towel down again and sitting on it, bringing his knees up and wrapping his arms around them.  “You’ve already gotten some colour,” he commented.

“Thank God,” she said, looking down at her arms.  “The winter has made me so pale.  It’s a bummer I didn’t get my dad’s skin tone.  My sister and brother got lucky with that.”

“You took after the Scottish side?” he asked.  Aberdeen nodded.  “I get it,” he said.  “Aryne can’t tan either.  She burns too easily.”

“Wonder if the Swedes are going to look like tomatoes in a couple of hours,” she said, nodding her head towards them.  “Imagine they’re on TV and beet red?  I might get fired for not slathering sunscreen on you guys or not telling you to put on some hats.”

John laughed out loud, choosing to lean back on his elbows.  “I don’t know about that, Aberdeen.  Something tells me you’ll be around for a long time if certain people have anything to say about it – well, until you want to leave, that is.”

Aberdeen’s body stiffened slightly at his words.  “Wh…what do you mean?” she asked.  

“Ah, nothing serious, Aberdeen.  Don’t worry,” he said, shaking his head.  With the silence between them, Aberdeen thought he may have dropped it, but he didn’t.  He was just preparing to articulate what he wanted to say.  “It’s not just Brendan liking you, you know.  We know William has, like, the biggest crush on you, okay?  We’re all adults here,” he said to her shock.  “It’s cute, but we all know it’s harmless.”

“It is harmless,” she stressed.

“I know, Aberdeen.  Don’t worry.”

“Don’t for a second forget that you’re all Toronto Maple Leafs,” she said.  “Every job in this organization is a dream job for someone and you guys forget that some people spend their entire lives, their entire careers, building up their resumes waiting to get hired by this organization.  Nobody would ever, ever, under any circumstances, want to do anything to fuck it up, because once you’re done here, there’s nowhere else to go.”

“I knooooow, I know.  I’m just ribbing you like we rib him about it,” he smiled.  He was so jovial about it all that Aberdeen calmed down a bit.  He wasn’t trying to get to the bottom of something like he was when he and Morgan asked her about Ethan – he was just being good-humoured.  A human, not a captain of a hockey team.  Maybe her overreaction was a bit much but she needed to remain guarded and vigilant about it if ever, and whenever the guys brought it up.  “He looks at you googly-eyed all the time even though he knows nothing’s ever gonna happen.  I’m pretty sure he’d cry whenever you leave.”

Aberdeen snorted.  Cry from joy, probably, because that would mean they could actually touch each other in public.  “He told you that?  That nothing is ever gonna happen?”

John nodded his head.  “Well, nothing’s ever gonna happen as long as you work here,” he clarified.  “But don’t tell him I told you.  He kind of figures and we all know it’s a lost cause as long as you’re working here.”

Aberdeen nodded, deciding not to say anything as she looked out into the distance.  The boys were still throwing the football, and Justin was attempting a yoga pose on the beach.  She picked up her book and buried her head in it.

***

Adrian Kempe, a Swedish friend of William’s, recommended a taco restaurant in Malibu for the group to have dinner.  It wasn’t a far drive from where they were on the beach, so at around six in the evening, they shook the sand off the towels and packed them back in the cars and headed to Café Habana.  Aberdeen was in the car with John, Jason, and Justin again.  

When they arrived at the restaurant, she looked out the backseat window to see Kappy making a beeline towards someone.  The girl, Aberdeen soon noticed, was Saylor.  She figured Saylor was here for another modelling gig, though Aberdeen did find it somewhat amusing that Saylor always popped up in cities or areas with…well, shall we say distractions.  She was in New York.  Las Vegas.  Aberdeen knew she’d been to Florida.  Now she was in LA.  Saylor didn’t go Columbus or Colorado.  

“Hiiiiiiiiiiiiiii,” Saylor squealed as she saw Willy, wrapping her arms around him and squeezing him.  “Surrrrrpriiiiise!”

“Surprise,” he smirked, but Aberdeen could tell he wasn’t as excited as she was.  “Here for some modelling?”

“Who wouldn’t want to come down to LA to model?  I just came from a shoot,” she said, now focusing her attention on Aberdeen.  “Hey girl!” she squealed again.  

“Hi Saylor,” she smiled.

“I’m so glad I won’t be the only girl here tonight,” she smirked.  “The boys can get so boring sometimes.”

“Aberdeen’s used to it by now,” Jason piped in.  “She’s only been travelling with us since September.”

The group moved towards the restaurant and were seated in the back patio at a long table.  Aberdeen was squished in between Jason and John, and directly across from her sat Willy, Pierre to his right and Saylor to his left.  Saylor and Kasperi didn’t even have to sit down to ask the waiter and waitress attending to them if they had oysters.  They didn’t.  With one quick look at the menu, and a disproportionately long discussion requiring everybody’s calculators to be out to determine how many orders of tacos were required for everybody to have three tacos each (much to Aberdeen’s entertainment), the group ordered four orders of every taco variation (and there were five of them) on the menu, along with some sides of baby broccoli, sautéed zucchini, and French fries.  As a dining group of 11, it should have been more than enough food.  She felt bad for the chefs, but knew the food would be amazing.  She saw it being brought to a table near them and it looked delectable.  

While Aberdeen maintained professionalism at all times when she was in front of the guys, when the tacos came, that professionalism waned.  She made sure to grab the four tacos she was guaranteed and wanted and piled them onto her plate.  They looked delicious.  Even as she bit into her first one, she moaned audibly at the taste, making the guys around her laugh.  Willy eyed her as she did so, taking a bite out of his own.

“So what have you been up to?” Saylor asked Aberdeen as she crunched on a French fry.  “Kappy told me it was your birthday?”

“It was!  I turned 22.”

“Ohmigod, I remember my 22nd birthday.  We went to the rooftop bar at the Bowery Hotel in New York City,” Saylor said.  Aberdeen knew it would be something ultra-luxurious because that was the only way Saylor seemed to roll.  “What did you end up doing?”

“Oh, a bunch of friends and I just got a booth and bottle service at a club.  Nothing as fancy as that,” Aberdeen answered.  

“How many were you?”

“I’d say about twenty.”

Saylor’s eyes bulged a bit.  “When you get older, your friend group gets soooo small,” she said, her tone making it seem like she was the all-knowledgeable big sister bestowing wise knowledge upon Aberdeen.  Saylor was only a year older than her.  If it was Jen, Aryne, or Bee giving this advice, fine – but not Saylor.  “My friend group is so small now.  All the drama that goes on between people is just so tiring, you know?  Less people, less drama.”

Aberdeen didn’t want to be rude, so she nodded her head.  “I can get that.  These are all people I’ve known since high school and throughout university, though.  We’ve already been friends for a long time.”

“And you’re still friends with them?” Saylor asked.

Aberdeen nodded her head.  Before she could say anything else, John piped up.  “I think that’s a testament to your character more so than anything, Aberdeen.”

“But it could also speak to, like, the way people are,” Saylor went on.  Aberdeen indulged her, looking at her so she would continue.  “Like, when I was in high school – my family is from Lake Forest, and I went to Lake Forest Academy – I found out this one friend was talking behind my back and I totally ditched her.  But then we ended up at the same college, and it was really weird for a while, but then we ended up becoming friends!”

Aberdeen didn’t know what point she was trying to make.  Neither did anybody else listening, judging by the looks on their faces.  “That’s good you were able to turn the relationship around,” she commented, not knowing what else to say.

Saylor looked very proud of herself.  “Besides that, what else have you been up to?  Are you still just, like, Brendan’s assistant?”

Aberdeen bit her tongue to smile curtly.  “Just.”

“And a great one at that,” Jason said before stuffing his mouth with a taco.

“I guess that’s enough for you,” Saylor commented.

Aberdeen almost dropped her taco.  So did Jason.  Willy was looking in between them.  She didn’t know how to respond at this point and not sound rude when Saylor’s rudeness was so blatantly obvious.  Aberdeen still wasn’t sure whether or not Saylor actually had the capacity to be underhanded.  She was starting to err on the side of Saylor knowing exactly what she was saying to people but saying it in such a way and with such a tone that everyone thought she was just dumb and didn’t know better.  Aberdeen began to believe Saylor did know better, and her act wasn’t fooling Aberdeen anymore.  It made her reconsider what Saylor said to her in New York about her nose.  “It’s actually not enough for me, but it’s what’s paying the bills right now and I’m not going to discuss career aspirations at the dinner table in front of people who are technically my colleagues and who don’t want to see me leave anytime soon.”

“But you can’t be in a job you hate just because it pays the bills!” she said like some dreamer.  “You need to go out there and be creative!  Cultivate!  Be artistic!  Design!  Sometimes the best opportunities come when you just drop everything, quit your job, and start hustling as you do what you love!”

Aberdeen felt her blood begin to boil.  She tried to remain calm.  “One – I never said I hated my job.  I love this job and I love the people I work with,” she clarified.  “Two – that’s a bit easy to say for someone with family money who grew up in Lake Forest and went to a private school.  I have rent to pay.  Bills – groceries, my cell phone, internet, stuff for my cat – I can’t just up and quit my job with a steady income to hustle and be creative when I have a shit ton of responsibilities.”

“I’m sure your parents would help you if it’s your dream and it’s something you really wanted to do.”

“No, they wouldn’t,” Aberdeen deadpanned.  “My parents have their own shit to deal with.  My mom would kick my ass if I was that stupid.  I mean, my parents are immigrants, so that goes without saying.  They don’t owe me a dollar, and I would never ask them for it.  I would never do that to them.”

“What about your grandparents?”

Aberdeen could feel John, Jason, Pierre, and Willy deflate at the question.  It was almost comical.  “I think you’re missing the point, Saylor,” Jason said nicely.  “Aberdeen is already hustling to get to an end-goal of writing.  This job is actually helping her get to that goal.”

“Writing?” Saylor questioned.  “I thought for sure you wanted to, like, work in sports or broadcasting or something.  Writing, then?  That makes sense, I guess.  Better for you to stick behind the cameras.”

Aberdeen wondered if everybody else could hear what Saylor was saying too.  She felt like she was in the twilight zone or something.  It confirmed to her that Saylor knew exactly what she was saying.  “Yeah, I guess.  Kind of how it’s better for you to be in front of the cameras because you thrive on attention.”

“Yes!  Modelling is all about getting attention and hype around your brand,” she smiled sincerely, so happy that the topic was back on her and her modelling.  She didn’t get the subtle dig at her…extracurricular activities that took up more of people’s attention than any work or collaborations or modelling she’d done.  “I’m working so hard to build mine now, which is why I’m in LA having meetings and doing more collabs.”

“Is modelling enough for you?” Jason asked.

Aberdeen almost spit out her water, but Willy beat her to it.  She saw Saylor’s face light up even more.  “Oh my God, yes.  I looove modelling.  I’m soooo into the creative aspect of it and building my brand.”

“That��s great, Saylor,” Aberdeen smiled.  “I’m really glad that it’s working out for you considering how much you love it.”

“Thanks, girl,” she winked.  “It’s hard because the industry is so saturated these days.  I mean we were talking about this in New York.  Every girl with an iPhone, some makeup, and good angles thinks she’s a model.  It really takes someone creative like me to stand out.  Someone with a unique look and a unique brand,” she went on.  “Like your nose, you know?  It’s big.  Huge.  We talked about that.  You could get a nose job, or you could work with it.  Most would get a nose job.”  

Jason was ready for Aberdeen to snap.  So was John.  So was Pierre.  But William knew better.  When he saw Aberdeen smile, close-mouthed, just a hint of a coy grin playing on her face, he knew better.  “I have a Virginia Woolf nose,” Aberdeen said.  “It reminds me of how much I want to become a writer and not a model.”

***

“I feel like I just watched a WWE match on pay-per-view,” Aberdeen overheard Justin say to Jason in a low voice as they trailed behind her in the parking lot (he sat beside Jason during the meal and had heard everything, but even if he hadn’t sat beside him, Aberdeen had a feeling he still would have heard).  After the tacos were eaten, everybody decided to call it a night and go back to the hotel – well, mostly everyone.  Saylor wanted to go out for drinks somewhere else in Malibu.  Everybody else politely declined.

“Yeah, except it was pretty one-sided,” Jason said in an equally low voice.  “It’s like Aberdeen was Stone Cold Steve Austin and Saylor was the poor jobber her stunnered every Monday night.”

“You picked up on the nose comment too, right?  I mean she was basically telling Aberdeen to get a nose job?” Justin asked.

“Yup,” Jason popped the P sound.  

“I thought I was going crazy when I heard it.”

“Yeah, me too.  But from what I’ve heard from Jen I didn’t expect more from her.”

“It’s good that Aberdeen is mature.  I think if it were me at 22, I would have lunged across the table,” Justin commented.

***

“Who’s Virginia Woolf?”

Aberdeen was lying naked in her hotel bed, tits out, with William lying by her side after he’d fucked her, and that was the question he asked.  Aberdeen smiled.  She loved William and she knew him – she really did, at least she liked to think – but sometimes she didn’t understand how his brain worked.  She knew she liked to call him “Head Empty”, but sometimes she wasn’t so sure.  He clearly had thoughts.  He just brought them up at weird times.  “She was a writer in the early 1900s,” she answered, laughing slightly.

“And you want to be like her?”

She shook her head.  “I’d like my writing to be like her writing.”

“Why don’t you want to be like her?”

“She filled her pockets with rocks and committed suicide by drowning herself in the river behind her home,” she said, looking over at him.  His face was blank, processing the information, and she smiled wider.  “Maybe if my writing was like hers, I’d actually get published in Toronto Life or something.”

“You’ll never know if you don’t try.”

Her smile faded.  She hadn’t told him yet.  She’d wanted to keep it to herself for as long as possible because she didn’t want to burden him with the news.  “I did try.  I sent in one of my personal essays and they rejected it.  They sent me the email on my birthday.”

William remained silent.  He saw the look on Aberdeen’s face and knew that she felt embarrassed and disappointed – in herself, in her writing.  He wrapped an arm around her and propped himself up on his elbow so he could look down at her.  “Minskatt…”

“Don’t, Willy.  You’re going to make me cry.”

“No,” he shook his head, not accepting what she was saying.  “After the Carolina game you told me I needed to talk more and that you’d listen.  Well, you need to talk now and I’ll listen,” he said.  “Talk to me, minskatt.  I’m listening.”

Tears welled in her eyes, and it wasn’t because of her writing getting rejected anymore.  It was because of the man hovering over her.  His head may by empty, but Aberdeen was sure his heart was full of gold.  She didn’t know how she got so lucky.  She didn’t know how he was hers.  “I just don’t know how much more rejection I can take,” she whispered.  “I try and I try and I write and I write and I read so I can write better and nothing is working.  Nothing,” her voice was shaky.  “I just want an editor to read my writing and say ‘This is what I’ve been looking for all along.’  But that hasn’t happened yet.  And I’m scared it’s never going to happen.”

“It’ll happen one day, minskatt.  I promise you,” William encouraged as he tightened his grip around her with his one arm.  “You’re so talented.  Your dreams are going to come true and you’re going to look back and wonder why you ever doubted yourself.”

“Do you doubt me?” she asked suddenly.

“No,” William said without hesitation.  “Not for a second.”

Aberdeen stayed silent, bringing a hand up to wipe the few tears that had fallen down the side of her face.  She rested it on William’s forearm draped across her body.  “When I get like this, all my insecurities come out.  About my future, about everything.  Maybe I was never destined to be a writer.  Maybe I was destined to be a personal assistant or a bank teller.  Maybe I was destined just to be normal girl with a big nose and nothing special.”

“How can you say you’re nothing special when you’re my treasure?” he asked, burying his face in the crook of her neck and placing a light kiss there.  She couldn’t help but smile, and he smiled at the fact he made her smile.  “That has to count for something, right minskatt?” he stressed the word.

She nodded.  “It counts for everything.”  She looked directly into his baby blues, barely blinking.  “The second I leave here I’m going to plant the biggest kiss on your lips, Willy.  You have absolutely no idea.”

That caused William to laugh out loud before he bent down and gave her a quick kiss.  “Not if I beat you to it,” he said.

“You won’t.  Trust me.  God, I can hardly wait,” she said.  “I still don’t know why you keep waiting for me.”

“Are you listening?” he asked.

“Mhm.”

“I wait for you because I love you.  Because I love everything about you.”

“Even my big nose?”

“My favourite part of you,” he kissed the tip of it.  She could have cried again.  “It’s what makes you you.  I wouldn’t have you any other way.”

When she craned her neck to kiss him, she made sure to wrap her arms around his body and pull him close, wanting to feel his body on top of hers.  He got the hint, and stuck his tongue down her throat, and they kissed until he was hard again.  Though he hadn’t expected a second round, he was more than willing to partake.  He even made sure to bring extra condoms.  He always did now – since Valentine’s Day.  He had them everywhere: in his wallet, in his suitcase, in his shoe.  “I love you minskatt,” he mumbled against her lips.

She didn’t respond at first.  But when she did, it was with something he wasn’t expecting.  “Tell me how you want me.”

He froze for a brief second, the previous conversation they were just having still fresh in his mind.  “What?”

“Do you want me from behind?  On top?” she asked in a breathy voice.

He groaned.  “On top.”  

They switched positions so he was lying on his back.  Aberdeen climbed on top of him.  “Willy?” she asked.  “Can we…can we try something different?”

He nodded quickly.  “What is it, Aberdeen?”

“Can we…” she began, almost a bit embarrassed.  “Can I try reverse cowgirl?”

William couldn’t help but smile.  “Of course,” he said, gripping at her hips.  

“D’you have another condom?”

“My back pocket.”

She dismounted him, leaning over the bed to grab his pants on the floor and retrieve the packet.  When she straddled him again, she did it so her back was to his face.  He could feel her pump him a few times before she rolled on the condom, and he sighed at the feeling.  She looked over her shoulder at him.  “I love you, Willy.”

“I love you too,” he said, his hands back on her hips.  He helped her lower herself onto him, the both of the moaning at the feeling.  He loved watching himself disappear inside of her.  He noticed she wasn’t moving yet.  “You okay?” he asked.  

Aberdeen nodded her head.  “It feels so good,” she said.  “I’ve never…you know…”

“It’s okay,” he said, understanding what she wasn’t saying.  He couldn’t believe that her previous sexual partners were so selfish that they never let her explore what she liked or what she could possibly like or positions she could do.  He shuddered at the thought of her potentially asking and being turned down.  It made him angry just thinking about it.  He didn’t want her to be that way with him.  He wanted her to be completely open.  “Do what you feel comfortable with, minskatt.”

She began rolling her hips back and forth.  William groaned in response, and he could feel Aberdeen’s hands grip his thighs and her nails dig in slightly.  As she rocked herself on his cock, she began to moan, gasping out anytime William would buck his hips slightly.  He had to admit he liked the view, but what he liked even more was that she was enjoying herself on top of him, doing what she wanted.  

“Willy?” she asked suddenly.  She looked over her shoulder at him again.  She looked so innocent and he knew that she meant to do it, and he almost exploded right then and there as she bat her eyelashes at him.  “Can you…can you come up here?”

He did as he was told, pushing himself up and wrapping his arms around her body.  He kissed her back and dragged his lips along her skin to her shoulder and neck.  “What is it, minskatt?” he asked.

“What if I wanted to try more?”

If it was possible, William felt even hotter.  The sound of her voice saying those words was…indescribable.  “What do you mean?”

“You just make me feel so good.  I’ve never had anybody make me feel this way.  I feel so comfortable with you,” she said.  “You…I feel safe to try things with you.  Things I couldn’t try with other guys.”

He knew what she was getting at.  He placed a tender kiss on her shoulder.  “What do you want to try?” he asked.  She remained silent, wondering if she should have even said anything.  “Don’t be ashamed, minskatt.  What do you want me to do?”

She hesitated.  “D’you…can you pinch my nipples?”

He smiled because it was such a simple request.  He brought his hands up and cupped her breasts, pinching her nipples between his thumb and index fingers.  He felt her sharp intake of breath and her head leaned back into his shoulder.  He could tell by her reaction that she wanted more.  “What else?” he asked, biting down on her skin near her shoulder.  “What are you not telling me?”

“That,” she stressed.  He didn’t know what she meant.  “The bite.  You—You can fuck me, Willy.  I want you to fuck me.  You can be rougher with me.  I think I’ll like it.”

When William heard those words and how she emphasized them, he wanted to make sure.  Needed to make sure.  The first time they had sex it was a good old-fashioned hookup.  The second time they had sex they’d made love.  In subsequent times since, it was mostly making love, if only because they had waited so long to finally be together and that was what they wanted to “release” – love.  But now, with those words being said, he knew Aberdeen was ready to take the next step.  She was willing to go further.  She trusted him to go further with her, and only wanted to do it with him.  “Yeah?” he asked.

“Yeah,” she nodded.  “I trust you.  Fuck me, Willy.”

He pinched her nipples again, harder this time, and she gasped.  He started to move his hips too, moving inside of her, and she began to moan again.  Without warning, he fell back down on the bed, bringing her with him so her back was flush against his chest, though her knees were still bent and he was still in her.  This was definitely a new position for her, judging by her reaction – a quick “oh fuck” escaping her lips.  He heard her breathing get heavier as she felt one of his hands snake down from her breasts and on to her clit.  “Willy…” she moaned out.  

He started pounding into her, using his athletic physique to be able to so with such force in a new angle she’d never felt before.  Her moans fuelled him, and the moans changed to slight whimpers when he started rubbing at her clit.  “Fuck, Willy…” she managed to get out.

But he wasn’t done.  At least he didn’t want to be done.  His other hand, still pinching her nipple, moved up to her neck.  “Willy,” she mewled, bringing her own hand up and placing it over his.

“Is that okay?” he whispered into her ear.  He wasn’t applying any pressure – it was just sort of there – but that was apparently enough for her.  He wouldn’t have felt comfortable going further, anyway, at least without her verbalizing something.

“Yes Willy, fuck,” she arched her back.  “Fuck me.  Fuck me harder.”

He increased his pace.  Her cries let him know that even with those simple actions, she was feeling pleasure.  She was liking it.  She was getting what she wanted from him.  That was the only thing he wanted.  “I want you to cum all over my cock, Aberdeen,” he growled into her ear.  She didn’t answer, but when she arched her back again, he felt her walls tighten around his cock and he knew she was done.  He let himself find his release too, groaning in pleasure as her body writhed on top of his.  He didn’t stop rubbing her clit until her hand went over his to stop him.  Her body went still as he slipped out of her and she fell to his side, trying to regain her breath.  

After a couple of minutes, she curled around to face him.  “I know that was probably really tame but it was new for me.”

William shook his head.  He didn’t want her to feel nervous about anything.  “Baby steps,” he kissed her.  

“No guy has ever, like…asked what I like in the bedroom,” she admitted.  “So I couldn’t explore things.  Well I didn’t feel comfortable exploring things.  But I know I can with you.”

William nodded his head.  “Don’t worry, minskatt.  We can start slow.  No need to rush.  You can tell me what you like and where you’re willing to go.”

“You too.”

“Hmm?”

“You tell me what you like and where you’re willing to go, and I’ll go there with you too.”

He nodded his head, smiling.  “I love you.”

“I love you too.  More than anything.”

#william nylander #william nylander imagine #william nylander fic #william nylander fan fic #toronto maple leafs #toronto maple leafs imagine #toronto maple leafs fic #toronto maple leafs fan fic #william nylander blurb #toronto maple leafs blurb #nhl #nhl imagine #nhl fic #nhl fan fic #nhl blurb #hockey #hockey imagine #hockey fic #hockey fan fic #hockey blurb #the president wears prada series

[pinkhairedlily]

Chapter 7 - Student Council President Sakura

SCPS AO3 | PREVIOUS CHAPTER

Sakura went to her shift a little bit giddier than usual for a variety of reasons despite the busy holiday season; it was nearing Christmas after all. The first one – having finally tied with Sasuke in their recent exams, and the second – the approval of her personal project. There was also a third reason, but she was unresolved of what to feel.

Kakashi met with her alone after their monthly council meeting. It was the usual talk, the heavy administrative concerns they do not bother other council members with, reminders about problematic behaviors among the student body or personal problems that faculty or students were plagued with that needed intervention. He said an apology just as she reached the door.

“Sakura?” Kakashi asked, turning in his chair.

She looked back at him with a neutral expression. While she knew she wasn’t overtly passive aggressive in her actions, he might have noticed a change in her cheerful disposition towards him. Her clumped fingers anxiously fidgeted with the rubber band on her wrist, his rubber band that she didn’t use anymore to tie her hair. “Yes, sensei?”

“Were you offended with what I said during the school trip?” he asked, but his expression already seemed to know the answer.

Her eyes downcast, she turned the knob of the door, knowing that she was free to leave without replying, but as the door stayed ajar, she decided to come clean. “Yes.”

“I thought as much. I’m aware that I belittled you like a child. Your money is yours to spend however you want. Please know that I only have good intentions with what I’ve done,” her sensei told her. “But isn’t it also unfair for you to shoulder that much problem? I’m a paid employee and before that, I am your adviser. I have a responsibility just as much as you do. Next time you are presented with that, learn to ask for help.”

Sakura didn’t see the expression he had on his face. She was too flustered to compose a comeback and she can only settle for a meek nod before shooting out of the room like her tail was on fire.

“Girlie!” Her coworker’s voice brought her back to reality – a reality of a long queue of customers waiting for their to-go coffees, mini-cakes, and boxes of pastries to share with loved ones in this cold night while she’ll be likely stuck in shift well past beyond midnight, tolerating the café uniform, the itch of her black weave on her scalp, and the heavy makeup she wore for tonight. She flashed an apologetic (yet charming) smile to the other person, and they gave her a thumbs up.

The queue has thinned out by eleven, to be replaced soon by stragglers hoping to catch a last dose of caffeine pump. She stretched her neck and stifled a yawn, forgetting to say Welcome to a customer that walked through their doors.

“Your sweetest drink please and a half dozen of hazelnut cookies,” the customer said. “Thanks, Sakura.”

She almost broke her already strained neck when she raised it up quickly to meet the owner of the voice. No gel blonde hair Naruto with black circles under his eyes. Rookie MVP looked shit as hell.

She barely formed an excuse in her head when he waved his hand in front of her. “You can drop the act with me. I already knew the week you got discharged from the hospital. I just passed by after dinner with the team when I saw a girl manning the cashier with the same band-aid on her nose which I gave you a day before.” Naruto grinned at her in the off chance that it would reassure her.

“Will this be to-go?” Sakura asked as she busied herself with Naruto’s order, unsettled with her carelessness. At the back of her mind, she was yet to answer herself why she was adamant to use a disguise while working.

“For here. Apartment’s kinda bare during these times.”

As what she expected, Naruto was still seated when they were about to close, and ironically, he chose the corner table with no windows, contrary to what his other friend would have chosen. Like those usual nights with Sasuke, she slid in front of him, her disguise gone.

“Let’s go see the amusement park tomorrow?” It was as if she saw sadness being lifted from his shoulders the way they transitioned from slouching to an alert stance.

She found then that Naruto was always that person that found happiness at the simplest things.

--------------------------------

“A horror house!” Naruto pointed at the very moment they stepped inside the park. He somehow absorbed his captain’s fashion persona, undercut prominent with his baseball cap, loose plain black shirt, and gray cargo pants.

“All right. Treat me if we reach the other end with you clinging to my arm,” Sakura teased. She was dressed in a mauve smocked crop top with high rise flared jeans and platform white sneakers that allowed her to reach Naruto’s shoulders. She wondered if her getup was too much what with the number of heads that turned her way as she littered in the entrance earlier.

Sasuke begged off through their group chat, saying he was unavailable. He was yet to explain that group hug last time, but he was evasive every time Naruto brought it up while she simply cannot find the right timing.

She guessed she was still taken aback by how warm his hold felt like. If she was right, whatever defenses he had around them were toppled down by himself that day. But what triggered it – she’d probably never know.

Naruto placed a fist on his chest. “This is one bet I’ll never lose.”

And he lost – spectacularly. His baseball cap was long gone thanks to a zombie who panicked when he almost punched it. He was also hyperventilating and sweating out of his wits, his throat may have gone hoarse by now with all his screaming inside.

Sakura cannot get rid of the long string of laughter that bubbled. “Come on, let’s cool off for a while.”

To help calm Naruto down, they had to line up with all the other kids in the merry-go-round, then off to paddle a swan boat on a manmade lake. She went all out in the shooting range and won Naruto a frog plushie while he blitzed through the basketball hoops, sneering at the kids beside him who were waiting for their turns.

They capped off the afternoon with a ride on the ferris wheel. They sat opposite each other, and Sakura suddenly felt queasy. She remembered she was apparently acrophobic, and so she focused instead on Naruto who was still in awe of the scenery. The park had a busy crowd today – it was the holiday season after all and families, friends, and lovers were up and about. She just hoped Naruto didn’t catch on yet.

“So why are you stuck with me instead of your family, Sakura?”

Ah he caught on. “They’re busy,” she simply replied. “Besides I’ll see them later in the evening.”

Naruto smiled at her, a smile that knew she was hiding more but he chose not to prod further. Sakura silently conveyed her thanks.

“I don’t know how to thank you. I was really in a slump when we lost, but this day made me recharge my drive and gave me a newfound resolve. You, Pres, is the first to hear it!”

Sakura can only grin, urging him to go on.

“I will bring our school team to the nationals and we will win.”

Sakura clapped her hands and gave him a thumbs up. “Of course, you will. I know you’ll do it.”

“I just wish I told Captain Haru before he left town for vacation.” Naruto slid lower in his seat. “Apparently, he and Hinata broke up. You’re friends with both of them, right?”

Sakura shook her head, shock at the news. She had an inkling from her previous conversation with Haru, but she didn’t expect it would come this early. “I am, but I haven’t really heard from both parties lately.”

“Well, Hinata’s father offered an athletic scholarship to Cap, but he turned it down, saying he was undeserving, and it might just be because of Hinata’s prodding.”

If she recalled correctly, Hiashi Hyuuga was the chair of the Sports Council that spanned all districts of their state. She could see why Haru was angry and disappointed enough to break it off with Hinata. “But they were so good together. Did he ever tell you how they first met?”

Naruto rubbed his hands together and leaned forward. “Do tell please!”

“There was a student exchange of some sort and Hinata ended up in our class for a month. Of course, she was the takane no hana and this immediately gathered a bandwagon group of shallow admirers. Haru, oh Haru, he found pretty people depth-less, but he was the class representative that time – “

“And you were?”

“Of course, a student council president. But wait pay attention Naruto!”

“Okay I am paying attention! But you really are an overachiever!”

“Yeah and what about it!” Sakura almost chuckled in exasperation. “So anyway, he had to escort Hinata back and forth at the school gates because of the unreasonable crowd. He would ask her random things, but most especially on archery since he was so bad at it. And they found a common ground and the topics expanded beyond the arrow and bow. The guy had the nerve to cover it up from me at first, saying they’re fake dating and it was just an arrangement to keep creeps at bay.” She sighed, suddenly saddened by the breakup. “I thought it would last forever.”

“But Hinata never introduced him to her family, did she?” Naruto asked. “Because Cap also told me that when Hiashi called him up for the offer, he didn’t know he was the boyfriend, he was simply a person her friend referred.”

Oh Haru. You must have known what family you were entering when you loved her.

“Hey? Time to get down,” the operator said. Their turn was already finished.

As they walked to the gates, Naruto asked her. “Love is too scary. You’ll never know if you’ll end up hurt or happy despite everything. Besides, can you even say it’ll be worth fighting for?”

Sakura’s fingers immediately went to the rubber band on her wrist, “It’s always a mix of everything, all the good and the bad, and somehow it’s all convoluted into one hodgepodge of memories that will be a part of you forever. It’s your decision what you want to do with it, and in between all of those, you’ll know. Like one big realization in your head that lights up like fireworks and splayed in big capital letters.”

Her eyes met Naruto’s gaze and his eyes slightly widened at her response.

“I talk vague, don’t I?”

“Not at all,” he replied.

--------------------------------

January couldn’t come fast enough, and Itachi was out of the country just as quickly as he entered his apartment unannounced on Christmas Eve. A holiday break, he said, but if he wasn’t annoyingly checking up on him in the evenings, he was otherwise holed up in his hotel. The truth was, he had a conference and a simultaneous workshop with the state hospital. Sasuke was just a side trip, an obligation that his brother didn’t want to take care of.

He could have told him about Naruto and Sakura and how he now knew all the technicalities of baseball because of the former and that he can consider calling them as friends, but their brotherly bond was too frayed to bridge all of those thoughts.

It was a week before the start of the spring term, and he found himself re-reading Naruto’s texts over and over again.

Grumpy.

So how was your date?

AHHHHH SO IT WAS A DATE. I NOW FEEL SO SHY.

Idiot.

SHE LOOKED SO BEAUTIFUL IN HER GETUP.

Yeah as if you two didn’t already spam the group chat with your pictures.

HEY AT LEAST WE EDITED YOU IN.

Why are you typing in all caps? Your phone broken?

GRUMPPPPPPYYYYY. Grumpy, I have something to tell you. I think I like Sakura – not the ‘like’ like others have for her. It just came to me, like fireworks in big capital letters. I LIKE HER.

Sasuke wasn’t able to reply. He didn’t know what to reply or what to feel, really. These recent nights, his mind only brought him to the first moment he saw her in the café, and there was an unfamiliar pang he couldn’t name.

Then, suddenly he was in front of her in the café itself, ordering an iced americano and bruschetta with tomato and basil. Her eyes lit up in recognition; today she wore her black hair in low pigtails and a light dab of tint on her cheeks and lips.

She sat across him when it was her break time, cheery and still in disguise, the winter cold making the blush even more prominent. “I’m gonna bounce some ideas to you.”

Sasuke kept mum, relishing the sacred combination of tomato and basil in his mouth, but let his stare level with hers.

“The school board approved my personal project. I proposed to set up a mental health committee since our infirmary – get this – and guidance office don’t actually have a psychiatrist. The school will be asking a medical professional to come in for monthly guidance counseling and will be an official partner for outpatient concerns.” With her face on her palm, she leaned forward, seemingly surveying Sasuke’s minute expressions.

“That’s tricky,” he remarked. “How will you encourage them though?”

“I think just the mere availability and accessibility of it is enough to encourage students.”

“Hmm.” He took a sip of his coffee.

“Aren’t you gonna ask me why I did it?”

Sasuke knew that he already broke his resolve to remain uninvolved in the remaining years of his life here in this town. He knew that sometime ago, the walls he built up since the accident broke down in the constant presence of her and the blonde idiot. But in spite of, he knew that there was another layer of wall that withstood the recent onslaught. Unfortunately, something has started to leak from its crevices. Something that made him understand the overwhelming emotions that raged behind such walls.

He missed having her all to himself, like a little secret, a safe abode he could always retreat to – her with her black hair and makeup, her with her bouts of vulnerabilities laid out in front of him in rare moments, her with her emerald eyes and tufts of rose hair that peak from the weave, her in this table in front of him and the world outside divided by a glass window.

If he could name it, it was a feeling of loss, a loss he stole and a loss he never had the privilege of feeling in the first place.

“Because you’re a good person and you always think of others,” Sasuke started, still holding her gaze. “And I think you want it because you might need it more.”

Sakura was the first to break off. She soon excused herself and resumed her shift. By the time Sasuke finished his coffee and bread, it was almost closing time. His words may have struck a chord so he decided not to wait for her. Maybe he’ll talk it through with her next time, if she allowed him to. He was almost out of the doors when the new pair of customers passed by.

A glint of silver hair.

“Oh, hello there Sakura.”

And a brunette on his arm.

Sasuke never saw color drain as quickly as the blush did from Sakura’s face.

AO3 LINK | NEXT CHAPTER | CHAPTER 8

#SCPS #student council president sakura #sasusaku #narusaku #kakasaku #uchiha sasuke #haruno sakura #uzumaki naruto #hatake kakashi #team 7 #lots of narusaku in this one hihi

[hp-imagines-07]

Who Better Than The Love Of My Life?

Sirius Black x Fem!Ravenclaw!Reader

Universe: Harry Potter; The Marauders era

Type: lil angst but really fluff

Summary: being Sirius' best friend isn't easy, but it just get worse when [y/n] fall for him and keeps thinking if they could ever be more then just friends...

Request: YES|no - "Hey sweets! I was wondering if you could do a young!Sirius X reader with 14, 21, 10, 41 please? If possible, could you put y/n in Ravenclaw? Thanks so much for creating such lovely reading material ❤️" @approved-by-dentists | Thank you so much for all the love and i'm so sorry it took so long...

Prompts: 

10 - "I can't do THIS anymore."

14 - "Why are you awake?" "I could ask you the same."

21 - "When was the last time that you slept?"

41 - "We never were just friends, and you know it." "I know it, but you deserve someone better than me."

Warnings: cursing, kiss maybe and a lot of arguments.....

Song: xxx

Word Count: 4.5K

Posted: 2nd of September 2020

A/N: i am so proud of how it ended, i thought that it wouldn't be as good as i wanted it to be, but i fell for sirius and i don't wan to get up anymore, so yeah (don't forget to read the bonus........) and thats a daffodil if you don't know

My Others Accounts: @imagines-07 (Principal Account) | @mcu-imagines-07 (Marvel Comics Universe) | @stit-imagines-07 (Stranger Things & IT) | @obx-imagines-07 (Outer Banks) | @cm-imagines-07​ (Criminal Minds)

MY MASTERLIST

"Why Potions Class is so hard?" You said and sighed, while dropping your head at your book, making Remus just roll his eyes at the way that you were being as dramatic as Sirius. Oh, this boy was so tired of you two making such a scene by nothing.

"It's not that hard. You just have to pay attention!" Remus said the last part a little louder and everyone at the library looked at the two of you, Moony just smiled trying to act normal and pretend that he wasn't feeling his cheeks becoming warmer by being embarrassed.

"I am paying attention, but I just can't understand." You said already giving up and closing your book. Anything was supposed to be so hard to understand, you're a Ravenclaw, you thought that you would understand everything and explain it to the others just like everyone else from the same house as yours, not the other way...

Remus opened his mouth to answer you and probably make you continue to study anyway, but before he could say anything, a pair of hands covered his mouth and another one covered your eyes, while Peter just sat at the other side of the table with a bored expression by Sirius and James' idea.

"Who am I?" A voice asked behind you, but it was obvious that it was Sirius trying to use a deeper voice and you would have rolled your eyes if it wasn't for his hands stopping you.

"I don't know, probably Wormtail..." You said and heard someone sitting at the chair between you and Remus and you just knew that it was Prongs, and Sirius sighed behind you. He took his hands out of your eyes, letting you see again the not so lightly library and your friends rolling their eyes to Sirius' reaction. It was obvious that you were trying to mess with him, and looked like you got it.

"You knew that it was me." Padfoot said while sitting at the chair at your right. You smiled at him and Sirius felt his knees going weak with your beautiful and radiant smile.

Moony asked something to all of you and before you knew, your Potions' book had been already forgotten and you five were chatting about one of the unbelievable gossips going around Hogwarts.

"You really think that this girl is pregnant?" James asked with furrowed eyebrows, looking at you, that just giggled at him and the rest of the Marauders by believing at all of those rumours. But you were too focused on James and Peter arguing if it's true or not, that you didn't notice Sirius bringing his chair closer to yours and putting his arm around your shoulders.

It felt natural, it was like his arm was supposed to be around your shoulders every moment, it was like you were made for it... Sirius' touch was warm against your cold skin and his scent was the best one.

You tried to act normal because he does it - and a lot of other things that are related to physical touch - a lot of times, but since the girls noticed the different way you acted and asked for you if you had feelings about Padfoot a few weeks ago five to be more specific, you couldn't help but also notice that recently you were feeling weird things around him... All the cliche feeling that you had read so many times at a few of your favourite books like butterflies at your stomach, cold and sweaty hands, loud and fast heartbeat, dry throat, warm and red cheeks... You were starting to feel so much of those stupid feelings that you started to involuntary act weird when he's that close to you.

And it all would feel just normal and ordinary if he felt it too when you were together, but how could you know if he felt anything? 

Before you could stop yourself from daydreaming about it, your mind takes you to a universe where you and Sirius were together, where he felt the same about you and you or he had the guts to tell each other about your true feelings - doesn't matter who did first... At this universe, you could call Sirius yours, you didn't need to hide any of those stupid feelings around anyone. Flashes of his arms around your waist, while your back is pressed against his chest, with tangled legs at the grass, just looking at the sky full of stars, passed through your mind, just like the ones where you could feel his body next to yours, with his arm around your shoulder, while flirting with you in front of some boy that was trying to take you to his dorm... You could even feel his kisses on your neck, cheek, lips or anywhere else.

Moments where he called you his girlfriend, and you called him your boyfriend.

"[y/n]?" You blinked a few times and shook your head to send all of your unintentional thoughts to the back of your mind - where they should stay and never get out -, with the hand that was passing in front of your eyes, trying to get your attention.

As you looked around, you noticed that all of your friends were staring at you with confused expressions and all of his foreheads frowned. "What are you thinking about, sunshine?" Padfoot asked you and you turned your head to his direction, feeling various goosebumps going up and down your body with his strong gaze focused on you and no one else - something inside of you even could tell that if someone fell in front of you, he wouldn't even flinch his eyes from yours. The way his arm around your shoulders made his face stay so close to yours, caused you the neediest to kiss him at this exact moment, with all of your friends watching, in the middle of the silent library... 

But you knew that it would be worse for you. He didn't feel that same way about you, he just sees you as his best friend and nothing more than this. And if your heartbeat wasn't so loud and strong in your ears, you would be able to listen to the way your heart started to break in various pieces just with your thoughts. 

You couldn't stay here any second more, you just needed to be able to breathe and organize your mind, you just needed to be alone, you just needed to cry without anyone seeing, you just needed to freak out by yourself while hugging your pillow from your favourite muggle band... You had to be far from anyone, especially Sirius Black.

So, you got up from your seat as fast as you could without passing out, and just ran out of the library as fast as your legs could take you and with everyone looking at you by the sound that your chair did when you got up, the sound of your shoes frenetically tapping against the floor, the voices of your friends calling for you and the fact that you left everything behind (being one of the people that most care books to anywhere you go).

You just stopped when your eyes met the entrance of the Forbidden Forest and then you finally noticed the way that you ran all around Hogwarts to be away from your own best friend. 'What's wrong with me?'

You took this time to breathe a little bit, then started to walk inside the forest. You had been here plenty of times before, just walking around and feeling the cold wind with the all the shadows from the trees, both hitting your body in harmony and union. This never felt so great as now. You feet started to drag you through the trees and as the first shadow got to you, you felt your tense body become way more relaxed. Your thoughts that were running around your head making you go crazy, were completely forgotten, until-

"[y/n]! Wait!" The known voice coming from behind you followed by several footsteps, made you stop on your tracks and turn around, seeing the last person you wanted to see at the moment. "What happened there?" Sirius asked and he felt his heart ache with the vision of your red face with tears running down your face.

"I'm sorry, Pads. I can't talk right now..." You whispered and you even thought that he would be able to listen to your weak and low voice, but you noticed that he had heard you when he just shook his head and tried to walk closer to you, completely ignoring what you just said, because he knows how you always try to hide what you are feeling to anyone. "Please, just leave me alone."

Black took a heavy breath so he could try to control his thoughts and try to connect them to his body, so he wouldn't do something that his heart was screaming at him to do. Sirius' mind was telling him to just go away and let you have the space you were asking for, but his heart was saying that he should go there and hug you, just hold you and confess his feelings to you... But he couldn't.

"Can you just tell me what's wrong? I want to help you!" 

"It's nothing, Sirius." He felt his heart ache by how you just called him. "Just let me be." Your voice was starting to raise with your anger by him not listening to you, and you knew pretty well that the unique one more stubborn than you, it's him.

"I won't just walk away. I won't let you alone right now." Padfoot whispered with a weak voice. All he ever wanted to do was to help you, but you never let him do anything for you, like right now.

"Why?" You screamed.

"Because I love you!" He screamed back and your eyes just watered more than before. Your lip started to shake, your eyes were burning more than ever, your throat became a huge knot, you felt your nose becoming warmer, and the tears starting to run down your already wet face.

"See?" You screamed back, with your voice ruined by the run and all the crying. "That's the problem. I can't do THIS anymore." Your heart was burning, aching, breaking... everything together, but you couldn't pay attention to it right now.

"What are you talking about?" Sirius just started to scream with you, he couldn't understand what was happening and what got you so upset. And if you weren't with a broken heart, a stubborn Sirius and crying, you could've had noticed how his strong accent got so hot at this sentence.

"Me and you." Your voice failed and you couldn't feel more embarrassed to confess your feeling for him in this way. "I'm sorry. I just can't be around you anymore." And you left.

-

Sirius' eyelids wouldn't close for anything in this world.

He was feeling so tired, but he was trying to sleep since '9:28 PM', by his clock. He turned around again and looked again at the clock beside his bed.

'2:52 AM'

An involuntary groan got out of his throat, while he turned to the other side of the bed, probably for the thousandth time this night. But it didn't matter what he did to sleep - he tried everything literally everything - but nothing seemed to word. So he gave up.

Carefully and without doing a single noise, he got out of his bed and started to draggle himself downstairs. As he got to the common room, he saw that anyone was there, but even with all this 'homey' and warm feeling coming from the couch in front of the little fire, Sirius couldn't catch himself to sit there and watch the different ways the fire can be, just like the other nights.

His feet started to take him out of there, and it even seemed like he was in some kind of a trance, because he just noticed where he was when his eyes saw one of the secret passages to Hogsmeade. But this was one of the most far from the Gryffindor Tower, it's on the other side of the castle. Yeah, looked like he walked all the way here.

His eyes flinched away from the door of the passage as he heard a few light footsteps, or he thought he heard because Sirius looked at everywhere around him and everything he saw was the dark corridors of Hogwarts. And then, he focused on the portrait in front of him, it was a beautiful flower, a daffodil, your favourite.

"Pads, what are you doing? Why are you awake?" A voice came from behind Sirius and, if he didn't know the voice, he would've cursed himself by having forgotten his wand at his dorm.

"I could ask you the same, Prongs." Black turned around and saw his best friend, actually just his face and neck, the rest was covered by his invisible coat. But he noticed the fingers of his right hand holding the map, explaining what he was doing here, at the same moment as Padfoot, at this hour.

"I got anxious about the match against Ravenclaw next week." James said and dropped his head a little bit to the side, silently asking for his best friend the same question, but Sirius just rolled his eyes as an answer. And that was when James noticed the dark bags under Sirius' eyes. "Wow, mate. When was the last time you slept?" Prongs asked and even chuckled a bit, but stopped at the second he saw that Sirius wasn't laughing with him. And by Black's guilty facial expression, he knew pretty well the answer to his question. "Wait, you're telling me you haven't slept since the fight you had with [y/n]?"

"Of course, James! I'm in love with her, how do you want to sleep knowing that I was the one who caused her pain?" Padfoot said a little bit louder, which made James shush him and sight.

"But it's been a week." Potter whispered to his best friend and letting pass the first time that Sirius told him that he loved anyone, with a face full of concern and sympathy.

"So what?"

"You have to talk to her, mate." James just shook his head while giving his advice to Sirius. But both of them knew that that was the thought that was haunting him by the past days.

"No, I don't." Sirius answered and Prongs felt like he could kill his best friend right now (but if he did it, Sirius would never talk to her). "And she doesn't want to talk to me, anyway." Pads finished and it was James' time to roll his eyes by the childish of Black.

"But you love her!" James said louder than he should and looked around to see if any professors or prefects were around to catch the two of them out of bed at this time. But as Sirius opened his mouth to fight with him about it, Potter didn't lose even a second to interrupt any bullshit that was going to come out of Black's mouth. "And don't even try to deny it, because you just said it."

Padfoot sighed, defeated and said the first thing that came on his mind. "But that's why I'm struggling!" His head was starting to hurt by the intense argument and he knew what was coming next. Sirius knew James was right about everything.

"So talk to her! You won't struggle anymore."

-

James' words have been passing around Sirius mind since the day he first said them, three days ago.

'So talk to her! You won't struggle anymore.'

Black has been wanting to talk to you since then, but he doesn't seem to be able to create the courage to go and talk to you. And he couldn't feel more stupid. He's the unique one from the hole Black family to be sorted into Gryffindor, and the Sorting Hat doesn't make mistakes, does it?

Well, he would have time to think about it at detention.

Sirius opened the door, seeing an empty Transfiguration classroom 'perfect, more time alone with my fucking stupid thoughts' and saw Professor McGonagall writing something in a few papers while sitting at her desk. "Hey, Minnie." Sirius said and the professor looked at him with a hard glare by the nickname.

"Hello, Mr Black." She said and pointed at one of the tables, silently saying to Sirius sit. "We'll just wait a second until the other student gets here, so I'll tell you both what to do." Sirius frowned his eyebrows with her sentence.

"There's someone else coming today? Who would it be, Minnie?" He asked and by the look she gave him, Sirius knew that she wouldn't tell him who it was. "Well, what they did to have to pleasure to spend two hours with me?" The professor just looked at the door, probably thinking that it would make the lucky person walk through it, but it didn't actually happen.

"She shouldn't have stayed until too late studying at the library." That was that Minerva said and her gaze still didn't flinch from the door. As Sirius was looking at the professor, he got too lost on the thoughts of how she could wear the same clothes every day - like, does she has a lot of clothes that look the same, or does she wash the same cloth every day and wear those at the next day? - that he just noticed that the door had opened and the person had walked in already when McGonagall moved. "You're finally here, Mrs. [y/l/n]."

Wait-

"I'm so sorry, Minnie. A first-year stopped me on the way here, he was lost and needed help to find our common room, but it's kinda far from here..." Your soft voice echoed through the almost empty classroom. They were pretty sure that you would start to babble about the reason you were late, but when the professor pointed to the chair next to Sirius, you stopped to talk. Maybe it was because you knew that explaining yourself wouldn't be something really important for McGonagall, or it was because you noticed Sirius.

His eyelids were swollen, with dark and deep bags under his eyes, his hair messier then the usual, a paler look on his face, but he was still so handsome. 

A knot formed at your throat with the sight of him so close to you - because those days you were avoiding him, but you still noticed him from afar - and you gulped it while taking deep breaths. You were refusing yourself to cry alone at your dorm, you wouldn't cry or show any weakness near to anyone else that could notice and comment about it. You sat at the chair beside Sirius, but your eyes didn't flinch to any single part of him.

"So, you two stay here, I have more things to take care of, and I'll be right back." Minerva said and started to walk out of the class. Sirius looked at you and your confused expression (was so cute) matched with his, but before the professor went out of the classroom, she looked behind and saw the two of you looking at her. "Just do a few essays, I don't know. Just don't make anything that could give you more detentions." And then she left. But not before locking the door behind her.

"Great." You whispered with your voice full of sarcasm and you hoped that Sirius haven't heard you. 

"[y/n]." Sirius called your name and looked at you, that was taking your things out of your backpack. He wasn't surprised that you would finish the essays you weren't able to finish the day before, but you were surprised with the way your name rolled easily against his tongue and lips. You even had to think about something else so your body wouldn't get shivers all around it. "Can we talk?" He asked and you continued to ignore him. But Sirius doesn't give up easily. "I really need to talk to you, sunshine." Sirius tried to grab your attention again with the nickname he used to call you before all of the chaos that you created.

"Detention is not to talk, Sirius." You whispered and he just huffed at your words, he knew you were going to say some bullshit to try to not talk to him about whatever you were feeling, but he really needed to have this conversation with you, even if he was the only one talking and you listening. "We're supposed to do essays or whatever, but not to talk." Your sassy tone was better than Sirius had ever seen it and if it wasn't for him in another situation, he would be so proud of you learning all he taught you over the years being friends. "If you want to talk, look me at any other place at school, I don't care."

"That's the point! I can't find you anywhere." Sirius was starting to get mad at the way you weren't listening to him or even caring about what he wanted/needed to say to you. "And I'm gonna talk, even if you don't say anything" He said and got up from his chair, that fell back with the abruptly that Sirius got out of it and did a horrible noise at the before quiet classroom, but his harsh movements grabbed your attention and you finally looked at him. "Can't you see that I feel the same way about you?" He said loudly and it almost looked like the whole air was taken away from your lungs.

But you needed to be sure about what feelings he was talking about, you couldn't just act because of a sentence that could have multiple ways to be understood, but you just wanted one of them. "You don't even know how I feel, how can you feel the same?"

"So, tell me." Sirius said softly and stared hard at your eyes, you even though he could see your hole soul from the stare he was giving you and your body trembled under his gaze. "Tell me how you feel."

You don't even know why, how, when or anything, but you just got up and stared back at him, with angry tears starting to blur your vision - sometimes you just wanted to end the way you were so sensible, even about little arguments like this one. "You wanna know how I feel?" You asked at him, with a frowned forehead and closed hands to try to control yourself and not cry in front of him again. "Well, I fell for you." Your voice wasn't on the way you had dreamed that it would be while saying those exact words to Sirius, but you found out you don't have any control over the future so, what can you do? "I fell so hard, that I didn't know who I was anymore. All I cared was about you and the way I could make you happy if we were together. But we never were." Your voice started harsh but it was becoming softer with the seconds you talked. "And it broke me."

"We were never just friends and you know it." Sirius said you felt your heart ache. You knew his words were true, he knew his words were true, your friends knew his words were true, fuck, the hole Hogwarts knew his words were true, and that's what hurt the most. Because even if you were never just friends, whatever the two of you were, never passed from it. You were friends, always.

"I know it, but it was always like this, and neither way you deserve someone better than me." Your voice becomes just a little whisper that no one would be able to hear if it wasn't for the empty class. But Sirius ignored your words and walked to you before you could think of anything else or try to walk away from him, his hands were holding your hips and you couldn't move away from his chest pressed against yours (even if you actually wanted to).

"So, enlighten me." Sirius whispered and his breathe was hitting against your face, with his lips brushing against yours while he talked. "Who better than the love of my life?" His smirk was so big, but you couldn't focus on his beautiful teeth, all you were looking at was his grey eyes. Sirius got afraid that you would walk away from him or break his heart as he had broken yours, but he knew you were going anywhere when you smiled at him, giggling at his words.

Your hands went to the back of his neck and brought his face closer to yours, selling your lips in the most passionate kiss you had ever thought and Sirius could just dream of. You didn't need words to show for each other how you were happy in the arms of each other. It was even being hard to kiss with the smile that fought to appear on your face - by being finally able to run your hands through his soft hair - and on his - by holding your body so close to him that all the times he needed someone to hold him like this, were filled.

Neither of you knew how long you were kissing but you were becoming exhausted with your lungs screaming for you to stop, but you didn't want to, so you just broke the kiss. You were both breathing heavily, but your arms, legs, hands or anything else moved. You and Sirius stayed like this, with your foreheads together, your hands lost on his hair and his arms around your waist, just feeling each other this close, for a while. But you didn't care.

You finally had him. You could call him, yours and he could call you, his.

☀︎︎☀︎︎☀︎︎☀︎︎☀︎︎

+ bonus:

McGonagall, James, Remus, Peter, Lily, Alice and Marlene were watching by the magic mug that Minerva left at the classroom, so they could see what was happening.

"Are they going to kiss?" James asked, for what felt like the millionth time, when Sirius got closer to [y/n] and everyone shushed him, seeing Sirius walk forward and kiss you.

They all cheered seeing them kissing and when they got apart smiling, they all knew the plan had worked. Marlene was even crying for her friend that finally told Padfoot about her feelings and James couldn't stop smiling while looking at his friends happier than ever together.

"I can't believe your plan worked, Minnie." Lily said and everyone nodded at the professor, that was smiling just like them.

"As I already told you, I'm pretty good at getting couples together..." Minerva said and winked at the students that laughed at her and looked at their friends again through the magic spot on the Black Lake that gave them a perfect vision of what was happening on the classroom.

They were so proud that their friends and students we together and happy.

☽☾☽☾☽☾☽☾☽☾☽☾☽☾☽☾☽☾

Taglist:

@cheapglitter​ @weasleysmuch @missmulti​ @writtenbypics @littlemaladaptivedaydreamer​ @dralf0yy​ @buff-bork @rd155 @seppys-return-to-madness​ @luciferedits​ @old-soul-young-mind​ @pxtrickhxckstettxr @sleep-i-ness​ @marauderswhisperer​ @liberty01 @gweaslvy​ @weasleytwins-41 @siriuslysirius07 @turtlepad​ @ilovewinter101​ @monimillion​ @simonsbluee​ @smokey102​ @yourlevanter​ @aberette13​ @yourbloodyqueen​ @loverboyreid​ @eeshea @susceptible-but-siriusexual​

#Sirius Black #sirius black x reader #sirius black imagine #sirius black x you #sirius black x y/n #James Potter #james potter imagine #james potter x reader #james potter x you #Remus Lupin #remus lupin x reader #james & peter & remus & sirius #peter pettigrew #peter pettigrew x reader #Harry Potter #harry potter x reader #harry potter imagine #hp marauders #HP #the marauders #the marauders era #marauders fic #marauders era #ben barnes #ben barnes x reader #padfoot #padfoot x reader #padfoot x you

[saylors-universe]

All Hands on Deck, one

Rowaelin Cruise Vacation AU

Masterlist here

rowaelin cruise ship vacation AU

word count: 1661

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

"You did WHAT!" Aelin screams over the phone. If she wasnʻt currently visiting her cousin in Terrasen, she would be in Elide and Manonʻs apartment, conducting this band meeting. But of course the Gods deemed her worthy of divine punishment – for what, she has no clue.

"Come on Ae,” Elide pleads over the call, "think of it as an engagement gift for Lorcan and I."

"Okay one, I planned on getting YOU something, not that dick boyfriend of yours. And two, this is a job, not a present,” Aelin hisses. Remembering that she hadnʻt yet congratulated Elide on the very recent news.

Elide had grown up with Aelin and Aedion, pretty much being adopted into the family as another cousin. Aelin had witnessed all of the trials Elide had endured – maybe she was cursed by the Gods too.

"Fiance. Heʻs my dick fiance now,” Elide interrupts her train of thought, "and I donʻt know what happened with you two but heʻs honestly the sweetest and most caring guy ever,” getting cut off by Aelinʻs cackle on the other end of the line.

"To you maybe,” Aelin snorts, “god, if only you had gone to our high school Elide. Lorcan was such an ass to me and -," she caught herself, choking on his name.

"Rowan?" Elide blurts out, trying to fill the awkward silence.

"Ye- how did y-," Aelin snaps, somewhat defensive. She knew Elide didnʻt understand the painful memories that came with that certain name.

"Lorcan told me about you guys,” Elide corroborates, “you know he resented you two for what you guys had,”

Ha! Aelin thought to herself, Lorcan, jealous? That doesnʻt excuse the asshole personality of his.

“he told me he had finally found that kind of love with me, and thatʻs when he knew I was the one and started planning the proposal." Aelin was happy for Elide, genuinely, and it is because of her love for the plainly beautiful brunette that she tolerates the prick.

Lorcan envied our relationship?

Quick memories of a silver head past love of hers crossed her mind without permission. Midnight drives where theyʻd sing songs theyʻd wrote for each other, a summer class trip across Europe where they shared their first "I love youʻs" in the late, romanticly lantern-lit streets of Rome. As quickly as they came, she banished them once again.

"Anyways," Elide continues, "itʻs a vacation, with only a few gigs. I mean weʻd only need to perform a couple of nights and the rest of the time is ours...

Plus, I managed to get the cruise director to upgrade our rooms for a small cut in our pay.”

She was met with silence, "Come on Aelin, Lys and Manon have already started packing,” Elide begs.

It was a great deal Aelin had to admit. A 21-day cruise trip, not only was it technically free for them, but they would actually be paid doing what they love - performing. She could see it now - Queenʻs Court live from the Great Seas.

They were a fairly new band but had already made some traction, making a name for themselves and enjoying the love from their wild fanbase. It would be nice to get away for a little while, Aelin contemplates. She canʻt remember the last time she did something crazy fun with her girls, besides their small concerts. It couldnʻt hurt.

"Alright, fine," she concedes. She doesnʻt quite know why she had been so hostile and reluctant to this great opportunity. It may have something to do with how she had always been the one to spring the surprise master plan on her friends, finally on the receiving end of it felt weird. "but you know I get seasick."

"Weʻll get you some of those seasickness patches,” Elide counters just as Lysandra snags the phone.

“Hey bitch,” their term of endearment, “is my hot ass boyfriend there with you?”

“Yeah one sec,” Aelin answers then pulls the phone away from her face to yell to her cousin in the other room. “AEDION, LYS AND I ARE HAVING PHONE SEX!”

Her twin of a cousin suddenly appears, putting the phone on speaker and taking a seat next to her on his living room couch. “Trying to steal my girlfriend are you?” He teases, sticking out his tongue to Aelin. “Whatʻs up baby?”

“Aedion weʻre going on a trip, a romantic cruise vacation, and before you say no, I already talked to Darrow and blackmailed him into giving you a month on leave,” Lysandra reveals over the phone. Aelinʻs fairly handsome cousin raises a brow in question to her, “so I expect to see both of you packed and ready at Wendlyn port at the end of the week,” Lys demands.

“Yes maʻam,” Aedion complies. The poor man was so whipped by the dazzling woman, he would follow her to the depths of hell. Aelin was glad they found eachother, they both deserve to be happy.

“Good. I just got new thongs today that I want to show you. Ooh! And we can try those new posit-,” Lys continues not realizing that she is on speaker. Aelin, suddenly feeling very uncomfortable, looks over to see Aedionʻs reddened cheeks and wide eyes.

“HERE. Iʻm still here!” Aelin gawks before she overhears any more of this intimate and awkward conversation. “Get a room you two.”

Lysandra chuckles, “how about a romantic cabin suite. Gosh Iʻm so excited, this is going to be so much fun,” Lysandra beams. And just like that Queenʻs Court packed their bags and instruments, preparing to embark on this new adventure.

——————————————————————————

Something had to be wrong, Lorcan never calls band meetings. Rowan internally reviewed every conversation heʻs had with the rigid bandmate of his to determine a possible source of this abrupt meeting. He recalled that Lorcan had just recently proposed to his girlfriend that he never talks about, is it possible for it to have gone awry? If so, why would he feel the need to share it with the band, heʻs normally super private? No, something else had to be wrong. Rowan got situated on the couch, across from the twins, Fenrys and Connal, perplexed by the expression on the standing drumerʻs face.

Was that a smirk? Rowan had never seen Lorcanʻs genuine smile in all the years he had known him. It had been hard enough to get the man to talk about his personal life, let alone express his feelings. Itʻs a miracle that somehow this girlfriend of his had cracked through his thick walls.

"Alright boys," Lorcan opens, "I got us a gig."

"Uh- isnʻt that Gavrielʻs job" the normally quiet Connal pitches in.

And from the rare, conspicuous grin on Lorcanʻs face, Rowan deduced that their booking agent Gavriel was just recently informed of this sudden plan of Lorcan's and took care of all the details himself.

"What is it?" the other twin, Fenrys, chimes in.

"A tour ... overseas. Really itʻs actually 3 weeks of vacation, on a cruise, and a few nights of shows,” Lorcan tells the group, “the cruise line hasnʻt been getting as much traffic as they normally do so they thought a popular band for entertainment would bring in some audience."

For Lorcan, not only was this input very abnormal, but also pretty genius. Not only would it be like their normal concerts with the generous pay, ambitious audience, and regular groupies that followed them anywhere - but they also would get a few weeks of vacation and free food. It would be nice to travel again and get out of Doranelle for a little bit, Rowan imagined.

"3 weeks of hot chicks in bikinis, music, AND alcohol,” Fenrys smiled, “thatʻs all you had to say,” as he looks to the remaining bandmates, “weʻre in.”

"Well hold on a minute,” Rowan interjects, “whatʻs the catch?"

"No catch really, except weʻre not the only entertainment. We trade off nights with Elideʻs band. You see, weʻre planning this whole thing as an engagement/honeymoon trip because of both our tour schedules."

Rowan has never seen Lorcan this content and happy in all their years of friendship. Itʻs nice to see how much heʻs changed from their high school days. Godʻs Lorcan used to be such an ass to him and -. Before he knew what was happening images of her perfect blonde hair, strikingly beautiful turquoise gold eyes flashed across his mind. The sound of her laugh rung through his brain - the first time he heard that laugh he completely lost himself to her. Catching himself – he buried those memories deep down and focused his attention back on their current band meeting.

“Elideʻs in a band?” Fenrys inquired. Lorcan didnʻt share much about his girlfriend – now fiance I guess – he had always been very private about his life, even back during high school.

“Yeah, the Queenʻs Court, theyʻre pretty good, from what Iʻve heard so far – itʻs just El and a couple of her girlfriends” – like Aelin Galanthynius, Lorcan thought to himself.

Lorcan had worked hard to block his youth from memory, completely forgetting about his high school years. That was until Elide introduced him to her bandmates, and he was confronted by the very Aelin Galanthynius he bullied during school. He regrets all of his torment towards her now, but while not knowing if Aelin would be able to forgive him, he makes an effort to be civil towards the blonde nusiance, for Elideʻs sake.

“Sweet, a battle of the bands, you boys up for a little competition?” Fenrys proposes to the group, the three men just shrug. Taking the hint, Fenrys continues, “So what do you say boys? Will The Cadre take stage on the open seas? All in favor say ʻayʻ”

“Ay” “Ay” “I planned this fucking thing so obviously,”

After a few soft chuckles, Lorcan nods, “Then itʻs settled. See you boys at the docks,” as he ushers off quickly to his fiance in Wendlyn.

.......................

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[theawesomeally]

Before We Met (Preview)

Prologue

In a world inhabited by mythic creatures, love was commonplace several millennia ago, though difficult to master. After his training advances over the decades, his powers became obsolete and were largely discarded.

[The camera zooms in on the city and two blazing specks of light dash all over the place as one shoots lasers at the other. We then see an enemy aircraft flying throughout while it's chasing a young man, who is running from the pursuer. We see full closeups of a guy in his craft and Rocky as he runs. The scene freezes after an explosion with Rocky barely missing it.]

[voice over]

Through the years I have been known by many names. Marshmallow, The Furry Lover, The Daredevil, Frisky Two Times and then The amazing Ryan Reynolds. But to most, I am Rocky, the awesome one!

[Some other women, leaning across the wall, and Rocky getting his shades from his pocket. Put it onto his eyes. While he puts his hoodie onto his shoulders. Rocky was dressed like a gentleman, but he fought with honor or dignity and pulled at the knot into his tie. Females are not meant to grab his attention, and if it does. To be fair, he heard most of what he'd said up to this point. The parts that weren't of his interest, anyway.

Okay, maybe that wasn't much]

His sigh is heavy with exasperation,

"Can you keep your dick in your pants at the gala?"

Grab his phone from his pocket, automatically switching it out of Bluetooth mode, and bring his earphone up to his ear.

I will never forget you, Margarita. [The female stops and cringe after hearing the name. His blue prominent eyes were not well adapted to winking. They were rather of the sort that closes solemnly in slumber with majestic effect.

Rocky pretend to consider as Rocky step out of the car and button his tux jacket. "Hmm."

"Nice wheels, sir," the valet says, unconcerned that he was on the phone. Rocky pull out his wallet and flash a fifty-dollar bill. "Take care of her and this is yours."

"Yes, Mr. Rocky."

"I mean, Rosa. Uh...sorry. I think maybe I should go.???." She wrapped her arms over her chest and shook her head with a smirk curved across her face. Rocky grinned and raised an ironical finger in salute Rocky starts backing away. "You can't get away with it." the security guard muttered, holding out one hand. He was moving very slowly, thinking Rocky was the enemy or something. Blinks at her as a farewell, but glance with a smug as he sees the vampire's ring. Mind was so wrapped up in thought that he didn't notice the familiar vampire standing behind him. A vampire with bad breath psycho. "Hey, come on, dickie! You're trashing public property here!" He is thinking about how he had to sneaked up onto the roof and is currently standing a few feet behind him.

Rocky then gently slides the ring off the vampire's finger using his katana.

Light glinted off a myriad of his Katana and the vampire ring. Spray from the dust to blew up into his face, but sweat more than seawater moistened his palms as he gripped the eagle. His eyes were as blue while the vampires eyes were cold as the stormy weather.

"Hey, it's Gale calling," says Rocky called over his shoulder to one nefarious vampire. "Love the shiny suit. Really brings out the sex trafficker in your eyes." Rocky had commented, half jokingly and straight up confident, how that guy would have been considered handsome - if he ever bothered to smile.

Cut to a shot of a cliff.

A grim expression again carved itself into the soldier's face as he gazed up at the jeering vampires, their bodies smeared with blood, upon the cliff tops. Even the most cowardly of tribes in Gaul would fancy its chances from such advantageous ground, one being was mused. The sound of their jeers was occasionally accompanied by the high pitched swish of an arrow, as the odd archer tried his luck. Invariably the missile would zip harmlessly into the sea, or at best a thud could be heard as it struck as a human shield or the solid surface of the earth.

Cut back to the fighting scene. Rocky is skewering a guy with his swords, and kicks the vampire in the chest, sending him back down and puts his sword away. The guy gasp and starts fighting with Rocky. This continues for awhile until Rocky get's away again. Using two fingers he salute the vampire as a goodbye.

Making a soft chuckle. He flicks the vampire ring up into the air. It comes back down and lands into one of the streets, causing his background to explode. The shards of fire fell in slow motion behind him.

He is consumed in the explosion, as his body can be seen flying off the ground, flipping off the camera as it goes. "Oh, fuck." Rocky mutter under his breath. "Oh, I'm sorry." A small apology leaving his lips with a smirk.

"That will teach you, not to mess with me," A familiar voiced ask, up righting his head as he walk over the circles and appeared in front of him,

(narrator)

So, I know what you're thinking. Why is that incredibly handsome guy being chased by a madman with a huge shiny fangs from the Civil War?

[The scene freezes after an explosion sending Rocky flying off the ground from the ground. After the dust settles, leaving Rocky lying unconscious on the ground.]

This guy's got the right idea. Well, to be honest, it feels like I've been the captain of my whole life. Is this too much? Am I going too fast? It's kind of what I do--You know what? Let's back up.

[We see the whole fight going in reverse as well as frames of future clips for a split second each time, one passes as Rocky mimics a rewind sound effect] Cut to close-up of Rocky gets up to his feet. Cut to him sitting on the side of the gable roof at night. Wondering how long it would be before he saw the city again. He had been born with a wandering heart, and he embraced adventure, unafraid to face the dangers often presented by journeys into unknown places. Leaving civilization behind for the wilds of the frozen north, legs dangling over the side as he listens to his Walkman next to him playing 'Shoop.' Rocky was vaguely singing along, making hand gestures along with the lyrics, but he was focused on his own drawing, while listening to the music and coloring a picture with crayons. We see that the picture he's drawing is him shooting the vampire in the head, he was doing it with some crayons he had with him.

It was fun to see that getting shot in the head, even if it was just a crayon drawing. He'd never soon change it to a reality. And then turned his head and stared directly at the camera, or the person reading, or just whoever balls happened to be paying a lot of attention to him.

Wha- Oh! Oh, hello. I know, right? Who's balls did I have to snap to get my very own story? I can't tell you, but it does rhyme with dick. And let me tell you; he's got a nice pair of fucking underwear, he finished in an Swedish accent.

They'd get that joke, right?

Anyway, I got places to be, a kiss in the ass to fix, and - oh! hot weird vampire to kill.

He watched eagerly as the flashes of light began to appear below him – lots of rippers were a very dramatic little shit, after all – we're panning quickly towards the edge of the roof he was sitting on. Now having an appointment to keep, Rocky was quick to get onto edge of the roof and, in one fluid motion, opens a music playlist called Tunes of Anarchy on his Walkman, and the song "Where Evil Grows" by The Poppy Family stays playing in the background as he jumped off the roof, landing in one of the coolest bar in Mystic Falls. It seemed that they had been drinking peacefully, listening to 'Angel of the Morning,' but when Rocky landed and that's when their peaceful night was over.

They look around for which they finally see as Rocky stands at a wooden doorway wearing a cowboy hat, black sunglasses, and red a white hoodie as he opens a music playlist called Tunes of Anarchy on his Walkman. Opens up and the door swings open and the music resumes with people dancing and lights flashing as he goes inside the bar.

Nothing.

Absolutely positively not a fucking thing.

First one person turned, noticing him. Then more followed, until the whole patron was hushed, waiting. Everyone was watching, the same bewildered look on all of their faces. Eyebrows raised and narrowed eyes, etc. God, for months he'd played this moment over and over inside his mind. It most definitely never turned out like this. Whatever this was.

As he walks up to the bar. The room was narrow and about 90 feet deep. Light did manage to worm its way into the establishment, though. It seeped through the windows scattered along the walls, and through the gaps in the door between its wooden panels. A bar on the left at the front, then some upholstered horseshoe benches, then a cluster of freestanding tables on what, on other nights, might have been a dance floor. Then the stage, with the band on it. The band looked as if it had been put together by accident after a misfiling incident at a talent agency. The bass player was a stout old black guy in a suit with a vest. He was plucking away at an upright bass fiddle. The drummer could have been his uncle. He was a big old guy sprawled comfortably behind a small, simple kit. The singer was also a harmonica player and was older than the bass player and younger than the drummer and bigger than either one.

The guitarist was completely different. He was young and white and small. Maybe 20, maybe 5-foot-6, maybe 130 pounds. He had a fancy blue guitar wired to a crisp new amplifier and together the instrument and the electronics made sharp sounds full of space and echoes. The amp must have been turned up to 11. The sound was incredibly loud. It was as if the air in the room was locked solid. It had no more capacity for volume. But the music was good. The three black guys were old pros, and the white kid knew all the notes, and when and how and in what order to play them. He was wearing a red T-shirt and black pants and white tennis shoes. He had a very serious expression on his face. He looked foreign. Maybe Russian.

I watched them for a minute, and then I looked away. My name is Rocky, and once I was the most wanted man, with heavy emphasis on the past tense. I have been out nearly as long as I was in. But old habits die hard. I had stepped into the bar the same way I always step anywhere, which is carefully. One-thirty in the morning. I had ridden the train to West and walked south on Sixth Avenue and made the left turn on San Francisco bar and checked the sidewalks. I wanted music, but not the kind that drives large numbers of patrons outside to smoke.

His attention was taken away from patrons. It was at that point that he saw the young beautiful woman alone at her table, Her name tag read Katy, and her shirt clung tightly around her chest. Her hands worked quickly and gracefully with the bottles as she poured them another and took the empty's away.

I watched her in the gaudy, reflected light, with the music shrieking and pounding all around me. The two guys watched her. Her bodyguard watched her. She watched the guitarist. He was concentrating hard, key changes and choruses, but from time to time he would lift his head and smile, mostly at the glory of being up on the stage, but twice directly at the girl. The first of those smiles was shy, and the second was a little wider.

What met my eyes was a beautiful girl with golden hair and a bright smile that melted my heart. She was blond and blue-eyed, American woman who have a glow, and a smoothness complexion. She lives in New York, singing, listening to a band, and I was in love with her angelic voice. That was clear. There I was, a guy further back in the room, stood in the room staring at her. I was 6ft tall, wide man with a white hoodie and a black leather jacket under a hoodie. She was part of the reason I was here with her back in a city when we were at the age of 19 or less.

It wasn't the kind of glossy place that had a policy about dating rich girls, either for or against. Some call it a gold digger, and I guessed they had looked at her and her minder and made a snap decision against trouble and in favor of tips.

The part of her gaze that wasn't wary was filled with adoration, and it was all aimed in his direction. She was rich. She was alone at a table near the stage and she had a pile of A.T.M fresh twenties in front of her and she was paying for each new bottle with one of them and she wasn't asking for change.

She was a waitress and I loved her.

The woman stood up. She butted the lip of her table with her thighs and shuffled out from behind it and headed for the counter in back. I got there first. The sound from the band howled through it. The ladies' room was halfway down. The men's room was all the way at the end. Rocky leaned on the wall and scanned the room. As Rocky watched her walk in and squeeze through the crowd and she sat down on the bar stool, 1 feet away from him.

"Hey, Raoul, look what this kid dragged in. Oh, wait! That is the guy!," but they didn't hear. Too much noise. He caught them by the elbows, one in each hand. They spun around, as if ready to fight, but then they stopped. Fortunately for him, the first two who approached her were quick to heed her dismissal. She wasn't there to mingle with huge ass in leather jackets. She was just there to grab a drink and relax and pretty sure she made that pretty clear when she shot the first couple of idiots down.

The third guy, however, wasn't ready to take no for an answer.

"How about you let me buy you a drink, sweetheart?"

Their sex appeal eyes pried upon their eyes from the television screen above the bar and looked at the newcomer. With his hair greased back and one-size-too-big biker jacket on, the guy looked like prime wife-beater material. Perfect. Just what they needed to interrupt his evening.

"Thanks, but I'm good," she said curtly, gesturing to the beer bottle in front of her.

"That's it? You're gonna chug that shitty beer and call it a night? Come on, let me get you a real drink."

She scoffed. "What? Like those idiots you got over there?" she glanced past him at the table where he and a couple of his friends had been sitting.

"It's a warm-up. Trust me, honey, we're just getting started over there. You should join us."

She wanted to roll her eyes. "Like I said, I'm good."

She made the move to turn away and focus her attention back on the football game on the television when the guy grabbed her by the arm.

"What the hell's your problem?" This guy gripped her arm tightly, this guy's face practically scrunched up in a beastly snarl. "I don't like to be ignored, y'know?"

She yanked her arm out of his grip and stood up to face him directly. She knew pretty damn well where the conversation was headed and sure as hell were not about to get in a bar fight with their ass glued to the seat.

Before she could open her mouth, a familiar voice spoke up from behind her.

By hearing it and raising their head to turn to his voice, her smile grew a tad wider, recognizing the voice immediately. They simply looked so annoyed, at least much more than usual. His lips pulled into a tight frown, while their eyes narrowed, eyebrows furrowed, back hunched over slightly if you'd look hard enough. Yep, those guys are just being grumpy as usual, but seemingly much more grumpy, except with their eyes laced with the slightest bit of concern. For herself, most likely.

The said person stopped, and looked over their shoulder to the voice. She put on a mellow look close to her usual one. Confrontation- unnecessary confrontation- was not exactly his thing. He tended to avoid fights like these. He could hold his ground better than most, but he preferred to keep out of the brawls and spats that others got involved in.

A voice caught his ear, she sounded like she needed help, despite the overconfident tone the stranger used. "Look, I don't wanna interrupt, but is this guy bothering you?" he looks up at her and says greeted casually, as casual as someone could be hanging for dear life. She looked up at me, startled that he was there. "I'm sorry. Did I scare you up?" he softly asked, when she turned to get a good look at the stranger in his handsome voice. She wasn't expecting the sight she was met with. A pair of piercing blue eyes smiled over her, puffing out her cheeks childishly when she looked at him. After she looked to her right to find Rocky taking his place beside her. Her pinkish lips turned up in a small smile as she ducked her head briefly with a laugh before tucking her hair behind her ear, "No, you did not," she said. He couldn't keep the amusement out of his voice. She turned her head to look at him, catching his gaze with her own. He gave a small smile, stroking her hair softly with his index. "So, What exactly are you doing here?" she said softly, trying to maintain an even tone of voice.

"Oh you know, I was just passing through the neighborhood when I thought I caught a whiff of filthy human garbage coming from this place," he said,

"And sure enough here I am."

Desire pools dark and deadly in his groin. Gaze up at her, releasing her lip. Katy flush a deep crimson in her cheeks, and he runs his index finger down her cheek before handing her the headphones. "I'd like to kiss you, too, but you won't let me down, are you?." Rocky asked her. Besides, he's pulled the straps so tight he can barely move.

Amused smile on his lips, he's wearing his enigmatic half smile. He glances down at her, light blue-gray eyes alive, he glances up when she looks at his way and their eyes lock. And in that brief moment, she was paralyzed, staring at the impossibly handsome man who gazes at her with some unfathomable emotion. His gaze hot, burning into her, as they lost for a moment staring at each other.

It's there in the air between them, that electricity. It's palpable. He can almost taste it, pulsing between them, drawing them together.

"Oh my," she gasps as she basks briefly in the intensity of this visceral, primal attraction. The two men stood back, saying nothing, but looking at him with hard eyes.

Katy had, somehow, stammered out some sort of reply that must have made her look insane. Coby, hearing her, had come over to check on her and had ended up having her go make Rocky's a drink while they chatted. Ever since that first meeting, though, Katy had completely fallen for Rocky. There was something about his smile, or maybe it was his eyes? Whatever it was, it made Katy's entire body feel light as a feather.

To be continued....

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[starlightinhumanform]

On Your Parade

Fandom: Sanders Sides

Ship: Romantic Moxiety 

Summary: Patton was ecstatic when his best friend excepted an invitation to go out on a date with him. Nothing could bring him down- not even his roommate running off for the weekend with his car. But when he nearly loses Virgil, reality throws things back into perspective.

Warnings (in order of strength): Description of Car Accident/Wreckage, Mild Injury, No one dies but there is some discussion of death. Please tell me if there’s anything I need to add.  Genre: Hurt/Comfort, Angst, Fluff, Human (College) AU

 A/N: Writing this was like trying to move into someone’s apartment while they broke up with me. I kept showing up with my little cardboard box of plot and this story would just frown and tell me things weren’t working out between us. Patton’s characterization is something I struggle with a lot and one of reasons I wanted to write this was to challenge myself (I hope I got it right!!). That being said... I’m very proud to have finished it and I hope you all enjoy! Love you all 🖤✨

Ao3 Link    Fic Masterpost    Fic Request Info

Patton smoothed the creases out of his shirt for the thousandth time, gripping the hem at the bottom. He tried not to glance out the window again, but his eyes kept drifting that way.

Outside, the dusty asphalt that ran in front of his apartment building was darkening as a light drizzle began falling. But the street remained empty. A car drove past; and kept driving until Patton couldn’t see it anymore.

He couldn’t decide if the buzz jumping around inside of him was excitement or anxiety. Maybe it was both. He just needed to find something to do, something to distract him. There was no reason for him to be this amped up. He needed to calm down, act normal, be cool-

And he was staring out the window again. The street was still empty. Still no Virgil.

Maybe it made sense for Patton to be so jumpy. After all, this was their first date. But they had known each other for years. They had met in their first class of their freshmen year. Two mutually lost children amongst a hoard of what appeared to be competent adults, they had clung to each other- and hadn’t let go since. Patton had lost count of the coffee shop study sessions, late-night Denny’s raids, and art gallery visits they had taken together. To anybody else, they had dating for the past three years.

But no, because it had taken Patton a year to realize why he blushed when Virgil waved at him across the street or why he was filled with so much pride when he was able to make Virgil laugh, or why getting a text from him was somehow better than getting an email saying class was cancelled. Then it had taken him another two years to get the courage to say anything.

Patton wanted everything to be perfect. He wanted Virgil to be dazzled, but most importantly, he wanted Virgil to have a good time. There was nothing Patton liked more than to see that smile break across Virgil’s face like a California sun after a week of rain.

Unfortunately, things were already off to a not-so-perfect start. The weather had been gloomy for the past week and didn’t show any sign of clearing up. It didn’t help that Patton’s housemate had randomly decided that she needed to take a road trip in their shared car. (Patton had never regretted anything more than his decision to share a car. The split payment was hardly worth the prevailing smell of sage and vegan pizza in his only vehicle). That meant Virgil had to pick up Patton- on the date that Patton was taking him out on.

Ugh. The whole thing was messy and somewhat awkward and not at all what Patton had pictured. But Virgil had been happy to go along with the whole thing, adorably bouncing on the balls of his feet. Patton was still in shock that Virgil had even said yes. He definitely hadn’t wrapped his head around how happy Virgil had seemed, excited even about picking Patton up.

Patton flopped backwards onto his bed and squeezed the nearest pillow to his chest. Thinking about Virgil- about his crooked grin, the way his eyes looked nearly violet in sunlight, the way he was always trying to introduce Patton to obscure bands, how his laugh seemed to come from somewhere deep in his chest and bubble up so that when he laughed it was like he was laughing with his whole being, just everything about him- made warmth well up inside of Patton. It was bright and it made his chest feel tight and the only thing he could do was grin and kick the back of his heels against his mattress. Patton was notorious for crying over anything remotely cute and he was supposed to keep his composure around Virgil? Ridiculous.

Patton lay there for a minute- or two or three, smiling so hard his face hurt. So maybe he was an actual adult who did adult things like pay bills and do laundry and buy vegetables; he still got flustered as easily as one of the blushing dames from the old movies Virgil liked to critique.

Patton checked his phone for the time. Virgil had agreed to be at his house at 5:00; it was 4:57. That gave Patton exactly three minutes to get himself together. It probably wasn’t going to happen but he had to give it a try. He was so scared to come off too strong and scare Virgil away. After all, Virgil didn’t even know Patton liked him that way until a week ago.

He sat up and took a deep breath. Two minutes. Just be normal- he’d been holding that act for years, he could keep it up for just a little while longer.

A minute ticked by, and then another, and then five or ten more and then roughly an entire geological eon on top of that. Patton found himself flat on his stomach on his bed, staring at his phone like if he really focused on the screen in front of him, he could ignore the worry that was quickly growing in his chest.

Another car rumbled by his window and Patton jumped up. Still no sign of Virgil and it was 5:15- far later than Patton had ever seen Virgil arrive to something they had agreed upon. Virgil had a reputation for showing up to things exceptionally early (he had gained infamy amongst professors for being the only student who had ever shown up to an eight a.m. class twenty minutes before it began) and Patton couldn’t clamp down on the doubt that was rising up inside of him.

Virgil didn’t forget things. He would worry and procrastinate and claim he forgot things- but it wasn’t something that actually happened. If Virgil was late, that meant he didn’t want to be there. Patton abandoned staring at his phone and began picking at the edges of his cuticles. It was something Virgil always got on his case about, but Virgil wasn’t there at the moment to say anything. What if he didn’t actually want to go out with Patton? What if he hadn’t actually been that happy and Patton had just imagined it all? What if he had just said yes to be nice? What if this had all been a mistake and their friendship would never be the same again?

Patton glanced back down at his phone. He wished he could call Virgil; he wanted to hear his voice, he wanted to say I’m so so sorry for messing up everything we had and I want to take it all back. I would eat all my words if it meant we could just be friends again. But no. Because Virgil hated talking on the phone. Because it would only make things worse. Because it was too late and he couldn’t possibly fix everything now.

Hey, he did say yes, though. And Virgil rarely lies. The immortally optimistic portion of Patton’s thoughts tried to show him a glimmer of hope. For once, it held some logic. Patton had rarely seen Virgil lie- the stress of keeping a story running and his worries of people finding out usually outweighed what he could gain from lying. Anyways, he wouldn’t lie about something this big. Would he?

Patton’s eyes had glazed over, far too focused on all of the thoughts swarming through his head to actually be able to see anything around him. His attention was brought snapping back to reality as his phone buzzed to life, flashing Virgil’s name.

He fumbled to answer quickly, hoping his voice didn’t sound squeaky as it scrambled out of his mouth like an overly-excited puppy, “Hey!”

“Can you come pick me up?” Virgil’s voice was rough and forced; he pushed the words out so quickly Patton could barely understand what he was saying.

“Wait, what? What’s going on? I don’t have a car remember-“

“There was an accident.”

The world dissolved into white noise. Patton couldn’t see anything, all of his senses cut off. His blood was rushing in his ears but he could feel it pounding all the way to his fingertips. He couldn’t remember how to breathe; he could only focus on the heavy rasps coming from Virgil across the speaker.

Suddenly time rushed back into place and all of Patton’s fear with it, “What happened? Are you ok? Did anyone get hurt? Who did it?”

“I- I just, I don’t- I think-“ Virgil stuttered out his words, breathless.

A sick heaviness settled into the pit of Patton’s stomach. He shouldn’t be the one freaking out right now, he couldn’t be- Virgil needed him.

Patton sighed, cutting off Virgil who still hadn’t managed to complete a sentence. He tried to keep his voice as low and level as he could despite the urge he was getting to run out of the house and find Virgil as fast as he could, “No, no. I’m sorry. It’ll be ok. I just need to know where you are and I’ll come get you.”

“It was- no, wait. Except then-“

“Virge. Street names. That’s all I need. Don’t worry about anything else.”

“Right. Sorry. Uh-,” For a second Patton couldn’t hear anything from the speakers except muffled footsteps, “Garnet. Garnet Street. And Maple.”

Patton just blinked for a moment, “But that’s just a few streets down from me. I’ll be there in just a second. Just- hang in there, ok?”

He didn’t wait for a reply. By the time it had probably taken Virgil to realize he had hung up, Patton was already pounding down the stairs. He ran out the door without a second thought, dismal weather forgotten as he sprinted off the porch and down the street.

Raindrops splattered against his bare arms and his breath steamed as it collided with the cool air around him. He didn’t notice and he didn’t care. His mind was completely occupied as he tried to remember how the local roads were stitched together. Under normal circumstances, he knew them as well as the veins that wove through his hand (probably better because while he did spend a good amount of time walking around, it had been quite a while seen he had memorized the back of his hand).

He heard the wreckage before he saw it. Or rather, the lack of sound. There were no birds, no crows cawing their dislike of the rain. Just the heavy silence of fog and the tick of cooling metal.

Patton slowed to a walk. He didn’t want to turn the corner. He was so scared of what he would find. His ears strained to pick up Virgil’s voice, but he couldn’t hear him at all. Patton knew Virgil was alive- he knew, he had just been on the phone with him- but he couldn’t shake the feeling that something was going to be horribly wrong. The thought of Virgil being hurt pushed him back into a sprint.

The scene was a mess. The twisted hood of Virgil’s car lay at the top of the street, a good hundred feet from the actual vehicle. The front was crushed like an aluminum can someone had decided to step on. Patton couldn’t tell if the clouds rising from it were smoke or steam or maybe a combination of both.

Patton didn’t know he could run so quickly- one moment he was somewhere by the top of the street and the next he was in the middle of the wreckage, flying past patches of broken glass and twisted metal that reached towards the sky like demented sunflowers. Patton couldn’t stop if he wanted to.

Virgil was hunched over on the curb; his knees tucked to his chest, his head hung, and his hands clasped over his bent neck. Patton couldn’t see his eyes but he could bet they were squeezed shut, just trying to block out the world around him.

Patton was a very careful person. All of his usual gentle hesitation was thrown out the window. He could hear the glass crunching beneath his feet, but he felt nothing of the shards digging into his shoe soles. The fumes of the wreckage fell heavily into his lung but he didn’t notice the burn it left with every inhale.

As Patton’s feet pounded closer, Virgil curled deeper into his knees. His head sunk down until his face was completely hidden. He clamped his hands over his neck like he was try to wait out an earthquake. Pure terror shrouded Virgil and it made Patton’s insides boil.

Patton sat down and rubbed his hand over Virgil’s back; he could feel how tense his entire body was beneath his hoodie. He hated the way Virgil flinched under his touch, “Virgil, it’s me, it’s Patton. Can I give you a hug?”

Virgil didn’t answer with words, instead just barreling into Patton’s side. He wrapped his arm’s around Patton’s waist in a vice-grip and buried his head in Patton’s chest. Patton could feel Virgil’s chest brushing steadily against his own and only then realized how out of breath he was.

Patton wrapped his arms around Virgil’s shoulders and squeezed as tight as he could without risking some sort of collateral damage. It was grounding- feeling Virgil in his grasp, the tiny movements he made pressed against his chest, his hands gripping at the material of Patton’s shirt. It made everything feel real again; it was like the entire world had lost gravity but holding onto Virgil, Patton could at least get his feet on the ground.

The ringing faded from his ears, leaving nothing but the persistent sounds of rain to take its place. The street was dead and only the clouds could gaze down on their huddled forms. Virgil was shaking against his side but Patton couldn’t tell if he was crying or shivering.

He sat without saying anything for a few moments, clinging to Virgil just as tight as Virgil squeezed around him. He didn’t want to let go, still just trying to convince himself that Virgil was there, that he was ok.

An eerie calm fell over the scene. The lack of cars driving past made it seems like the entire world had paused around them. The rain fell in a consistent drizzle- it wasn’t even drops, simply a blanket that coated everything in a gloomy haze. It could have been five in the morning or three in the afternoon or even a completely different planet and Patton wouldn’t have been able to tell.

Virgil shifted against him, “Hey.”

Patton looked down, ready to respond but froze when he saw Virgil’s face. A cut arched over his left eyebrow, a streak of blood running all the way down to the dark shadow beneath his eyes, “Virgil, oh my god?! Are you ok? How did that happen?”

Virgil shrugged and broke away from Patton’s stare, “I got into a car accident. Shit like that happens. I probably hit my head on the wheel or something.”

“Yeah but are you ok?” If Virgil was going to be overly casual, then Patton would just have to substitute as his self preservation instincts.

“I’m fine, really. It looks worse than it actually is.”

Patton pursed his lips. It was obvious Virgil didn’t really want to talk about it, “Well, ok... are you hurt anywhere else?”

“I think I got kinda bruised on my chest from the seatbelt but it’ll be fine. It could have been a lot worse.”

Virgil’s hollow voice sent chills down Patton’s spine. His words made him tighten his grip around Virgil again as he was reminded just how lucky he was to be able to hold him at all.

Patton was still trying to get his feet on the ground but he realized with a start that Virgil was miles away. Virgil could have died. No wonder he sounded hollow, his mind was probably trying to run away from the memory of what had happened as fast as he possibly could.

Patton began rubbing his hand rhythmically across Virgil’s shoulders. Despite the chaos around them, that at least felt somewhat familiar. Virgil said Patton could help him calm down better than anyone else- something about how he drew his attention from all the thoughts in his head back to his physical form. Patton prayed he could help in the only way he knew how to.

Virgil stared out across the wreckage. His eyes were glassy and filled with clouds to rival the gray hanging in the sky.

“They ran the stop sign,” His voice reached down from somewhere in the storm.

“T-boned my car. Their front bumper hit my passenger side,” He was a thousand miles away.

Patton brushed his hand up and down along the vertical stripes of Virgil’s plaid sweatshirt, trying to follow the beats of his breathing.

“Then they just kept driving,” A hundred miles, “I don’t get how really- their car couldn’t have been much better off than mine.”

Patton just wished he could do more. He didn’t know what to do and all he did know was that it wasn’t enough. He wanted to reverse all of time just to stop Virgil from getting hurt.

“It was crazy. I don’t even know how to explain it. It was like being on a roller coaster, except there’s no tracks and you have no idea where it’s going or when it’s going to stop or if it’s ever actually going to stop,” Ten miles- tops. His voice was quickly deteriorating, weakening with every foot he fell closer to the surface of the planet.

Patton could feel Virgil shaking in his arms. He felt so small and Patton wished he could protect him from every ugly, horrible thing in this stupid world. Virgil didn’t deserve this.

Virgil hit the surface of the planet with a shudder, chocking on his words as they tumbled out of his mouth, “I just- I kept thinking- and about- but I couldn’t do- I just wanted and-“

Virgil froze suddenly, the silence shocking after his stream of broken words. Patton wasn’t sure if it was better or worse until Virgil slumped forward, sobs wracking his body. It was quiet except for the hiccuping gasps the escaped Virgil and Patton could say decisively that this was so much worse than any incoherent ramble.

Patton ran his hand through Virgil’s hair, keeping the other arm tucked snugly around Virgil’s side. He winced as his fingers hit the sticky dampness in his bangs that could only be blood. He kept shushing him gently, but he wasn’t actually sure who he was telling to be quiet. It wasn’t that he wanted Virgil to be quiet; he just wanted the rest of the world to stop for a moment.

They sat there for what could have been anywhere between a minute and a week, seconds drawn out between Virgil’s stuttering breaths.

Virgil shifted suddenly, raising his head and turning his knees to face Patton. His eyes were red and still filled with tears. His face was flushed but the cut still stood out; it burned a dark burgundy as the blood dried and a bruise bloomed out around it. It was nearly painful to look at. It felt like Patton’s heart was being squeezed in a giant fist and no matter what he did, he couldn’t escape that suffocating pressure. He was still so angry- angrier than he had felt in years and to the point it was almost surprising.

“I’m sorry,” Virgil’s voice was small and cracked between the words.

Patton could feel his eyebrows scrunching together, “Why would you have a single thing to be sorry for?”

Virgil hung his head, arms balanced on his knees so Patton couldn’t quite see his face, “I don’t know... this was supposed to be our first date and I ruined it.”

Patton wasn’t sure how to respond. He could feel his heart shattering at Virgil’s words, glass shards cutting through his chest. A tiny incredulous laugh crawled its way up Patton’s throat. Or maybe it had fallen from his dizzy head. Either way, it landed in his mouth, mixing bitterly with the coppery taste of adrenaline.

He shook his head, “No, Virge. Please don’t be sorry. This isn’t your fault. Besides, I’m just glad that you’re ok.”

“But-“

“But nothing. I’m happy just to be able to hold you,” Patton tried to convey his sincerity, pushing his gratefulness into every word and hoping Virgil would hear it.

Virgil scooted closer and leaned his head against Patton’s chest. Patton tucked his chin over Virgil’s head, happy to feel Virgil’s breathing steadying out into its regular pattern. The gasps were replaced with only the occasional sniffle.

“So, where were you going to take me?”

“What?”

“Where were you going to take me?” Virgil repeated the question, “You know, for our date?”

Patton’s lips twitched up into a smile, “That’s a surprise.”

Virgil gave a huff of a laugh, “It’s not exactly like we’re going to go now.”

Patton rolled the question around in his head, “Yeah, but we could try again sometime; First Date, Take Two. I mean, if that’s something you would like to do.”

“Why wouldn’t I want to do that?” Virgil sounded genuinely confused.

“It’s just that... I thought that maybe,” Patton sighed, “Maybe you didn’t actually want to go out with me and that I had kinda ruined our friendship.”

Virgil moved so he could face Patton directly, “You really thought I didn’t mean it when I said yes?”

Patton tried not squirm but the usual butterflies in his stomach had transformed into snakes, “It’s not that I didn’t believe you, I just wondered-“

Virgil interrupted with a laugh but Patton couldn’t figure out what was so funny. His eyes narrowed as they studied Patton’s face, trying to find something but what exactly, Patton had no clue.

“God, you big dummy,” Virgil chuckled again and Patton felt something in his chest crumble. He didn’t want to hear the next words, he just wanted to implode in on himself and never face the world again, “I love you. I have for years. I know this might be kind of weird to say, seeing as we haven’t even had our first date but I’ve known you for what feels like forever and you’re my best friend and when you said you liked me as more of a friend I was so surprised but-“

“You love me?” Patton cut off Virgil’s ramble. Those were not the words he had been expecting.

Virgil wrung his hands in his lap, “Yeah. Is that ok?”

“Virgil, honey, I-“ Patton tried to stutter out all of the things he was feeling but it just wasn’t possible. He took a deep breath, letting his body relax for the first time in he-didn’t-know-how-long. He let himself simply dissolve into the warmth that was taking over all of his systems, “I love you too.”

Patton wasn’t really sure what happened next. He was leaning forward and Virgil was leaning forward and suddenly their lips were pressed together. His eyes fluttered close as he melted further towards Virgil. It was gentle and warm despite the drizzle that continued to coat them. Patton could feel Virgil’s eyelashes brush against his cheek; they were damp and nearly as soft his mouth.

Virgil pulled away, “Uh, was that ok too?”

“I think that was a little more than ok,” Patton hoped his voice wasn’t as weak as it sounded to his own ears.

Virgil let his head fall back against Patton’s chest which- from the inside- felt like a furnace left on too long, “Ow!”

Patton immediately jumped at Virgil’s expression of pain, “What’s wrong?”

“I hit my cut on your chest. It’s fine.”

As much as Patton wished he could stay in that moment, he knew it couldn’t last forever, “We should get you to the hospital; you might be worse off than you think.

Virgil whined as Patton stood up but accepted the hand up. His legs shook as he tried to put weight on them. It took him a moment to gain his balance, placing a bit more of his weight on Patton than was probably necessary as he leaned his shoulder, “How are we going to get there?”

“I’ll drive you.”

“Uh, Patton?”

“Yeah?”

“You don’t have a car, remember?”

“Oh.”

If you want to be added to my Sanders Sides fic taglist just send me an ask or reply to this post :p 

~ @phan-fander @abi-beehive @fandomfan315 ~

#moxiety #moxiety fluff #moxiety angst #romantic moxiety #moxiety fic #moxiety human au #moxiety fanfic #moxiety fanfiction #patton x virgil #virgil x patton #moxiety hurt/comfort #sanders sides #sanders sides fanfiction #sanders sides fic #sanders sides human au #sanders sides college au #ts patton #ts virgil #starlight writes

[lovely-van2]

red - van mccann

how about I change? how about you look at me the same?  how about I change? how about you love me again?

warnings: language, a little smut

word count: 4k+

notes: okay here’s a red songfic no one asked for lol but honestly it’s my favorite thing i’ve written so far. i’ll be working on requests after this and plz feel free to send any in that you have! enjoy :))

“Can he do what I do for you?”

That one phrase slipped from his mouth so carelessly, breathing the words out into the air and through the phone without a second thought. 

“Van,” you whispered. “You have to stop. I… I can’t keep doing this.” 

He sighed into the phone. “Baby, he’s not good enough for you. You know that.”

You closed your eyes, pulling the sheets from your bed over your head as if you could protect yourself this way. “He is, though. He’s safe and comfortable and things are just… easy with him. A lot easier than they were with you.” 

“How many times do you want me to apologize?” he asked, his voice raspier than ever. “I’m sorry. So fucking sorry. I’ll change for you, do whatever you want me to do.”

“It doesn’t matter, Van,” you replied softly. After he didn’t respond for a moment, you hung up. He’d probably call again, just like he always did, but you knew you shouldn’t give in. You couldn’t. 

Things with Van had always been messy and complicated and downright painful. You had dated on and off for a long time, over the span of a couple years. Things started off great - you’d met in that pub, both a little too drunk, eyes frozen on each other from across the room until Van finally approached you with that smirk. In the beginning, you couldn’t keep your hands off of each other like a couple of prepubescent teens. You were nearly inseparable for months and there was just so much passion. You followed him around as he performed at random pubs and small venues that slowly turned into bigger gigs. 

You fell downright, can’t sleep, pray-to-God-he-never-leaves-you in love with him. But with that much emotion comes trouble. 

You started to fight constantly, seeming to argue over anything at all times. Why are you never home? Why can’t you leave me the fuck alone? You’d scream back and forth for hours until he’d slam the door, leaving you behind in tears only to go off and drown out his feelings with alcohol or drugs or whatever else he picked as a coping mechanism. You’d sit at home and cry and cry, vowing to yourself that no matter what he did or what he said, you’d end things with him for good. He was too chaotic, too emotional, too unstable. 

But you couldn’t. He’d come back to you, always, full of convincing apologies (he did have a way with words) and armed with flowers and heart-shaped balloons. He’d get down on his knees and beg if he had to, telling you he loved you and wanted to marry you and goddamn it, I’ll give you everything.

Everyone always told you that it wouldn’t work out, especially when things for the band started picking up and he had to leave for tours or to record. Your mother said he was too immature, that he needed a real job. You’d wave them all off with a laugh, saying that none of it mattered. You loved each other too much for anything to mess that up. 

Except when he was gone, things got even tougher. You wouldn’t hear from him for days on end, leaving you sitting at home in a panic, calling his bandmates just to make sure he was okay. Van never was one to use his phone much but he’d promised before leaving that he’d call you every night. 

He tended to break a lot of his promises. 

When you did speak on the phone, it usually ended in a fight. You’d ask him why he never called you back, how could he go days without talking to you? Do you even care about me? He’d sigh, saying he was a goddamn rockstar and had a lot of shit going on but of course I fucking love you. You’d tell him to lay off the drinking if he loved you so much, which just pissed him off more. I don’t need this, y’know, he’d spit at you, being sure to throw in your face how countless girls came up to him at the end of each show, begging him to come back to their hotel rooms for the night. 

There were good moments too, though. Like when he’d leave the tour a night early, take a different flight than the rest of the boys just to surprise you at home. He held you so tight at night, fingers memorizing every detail of your body, sure he would lose you if he loosened his grip. He’d cook you breakfast in the mornings, grab your hand and spin you around the kitchen, singing in your ear as you danced. He hid little notes around your apartment, listing all the reasons he loved you, so you could find them when he left you for months on end and feel a little closer to him. He was everything you needed.

Then the cycle would start back up again - screaming matches, tears, another breakup that turned into makeup sex so good it was almost worth it. Almost. 

In the end, you knew you had to let him go. There were a lot of highs with him - you loved him more than you knew people were capable of loving. You adored him, worshipped him, for so long because you didn’t know how a person like Van could be real. His head was so full of stars - fucking galaxies, even. He was goddamn filled to the brim with love, giving any he could to the people cared about, especially you.

But the man who wrote you songs about his love for you, singing you to sleep at night with them and stroking your hair, was the same man who told you he hated you and wished he’d never met you, that you’d ruined his life as soon as you stepped into it.

When you ended things for good, he’d stormed out of course. Told you to ‘fuck off’ and that he was happy it was finally over, he was free. 

Within a few hours, he was knocking on your door, begging you to take him back. When he realized that you were actually serious this time - his little tricks and gifts wouldn’t work anymore, you really meant it - he cried in front of you for the first time. He stood in your doorway and sobbed, tears streaming down his cheeks like a faucet, bent over, face in his hands until you had to force him out, shutting the door in his face and shutting him out of your life. You wept with him through the door, your heart aching for him on the other side of it. But you knew that all of the hurt, the instability, the constant breakups and overwhelming emotions were too much. 

Your friends were all too pleased when you told them you’d broken up. Most didn’t even comfort you, just told you that Van had always been a piece of shit and you could do better. Within a few months, they were trying to set you up. You knew you weren’t close to being ready - you needed time to yourself, time to get over him. Van wasn’t exactly someone you could just forget about without a second thought. Your sister urged you to just stay single for a while and learn to be okay on your own. 

But they were relentless. You ended up finally agreeing to go on a date with one of your best friends’ neighbors just to get them off your back. 

Will was sweet. He was nervous, hand shaking as he took a sip of his drink. You laughed at his jokes politely, thanked him when he pulled your chair out for you. He was smart, already graduated and working at some big law firm. He told you all about how he was looking to buy a house and wanted to fill it with a wife and kids someday. You found it all very endearing. He was stable, secure, put-together. He kissed you on the cheek when he dropped you off, told you he had a great time. He wanted to see you again. 

So you agreed to go on another date with him. You went to a movie this time and of course, he paid for the tickets, opened the door for you, and offered to buy you popcorn. He even held your hand for most of it. 

Your friends asked about Will and you’d laugh, say he was nice but you didn’t think it would go anywhere. They’d all roll their eyes. “He’s perfect for you, don’t you get it?” 

Was he?

After your third date, you invited him into your apartment. He was respectful, telling you he didn’t want to move too fast or rush you into anything. You cuddled on the couch and shared your first kiss. It was so easy with him. You were never nervous around him, never afraid to say the wrong thing and set him off. 

He told you that he liked you and wanted to be with you. It caught you off-guard - you’d never dealt with someone who was so open with their feelings. You were a little wary at first but you agreed, figured some stability might just be what you needed. 

Will always called you when he said he would, introduced you to his parents, sent you flowers for no reason. He was perfect. You were lucky to have someone so reliable, so caring and you knew this - but you couldn’t help but feel like something was missing, something you couldn’t put your finger on. 

“Tired, babe?” he’d asked you one night as you laid on his chest, dozing off during the movie you were watching. 

“Mhm,” you mumbled. It was Friday night and you’d had a long, stressful week at work. You hadn’t slept properly in days and now that it was the weekend, you were glad you got to relax a little. Takeout, wine, and a movie was perfect. 

“I think I’m actually gonna head home,” he said, stroking his thumb across your shoulder. “I gotta pick up my parents by six tomorrow.”

“Oh, yeah, I forgot about that,” you replied with a yawn. Will lived about twenty minutes away from you, which meant he’d have to drive even further to the airport in the morning if he stayed the night. 

He slid out from under you carefully, giving you a sweet kiss and said goodnight. You finished off your glass of wine after he left and flopped back on the couch, focusing back in on the movie. You realized you hadn’t been paying much attention so you had to rewind it. 

You jumped when your phone started buzzing. “Jesus,” you muttered. You fished it out from the blankets and your stomach dropped when you saw the name flash across the screen.

Van. 

You hadn’t heard from him since you’d broken up months ago. He’d never called you or texted you or even shown up again at your door like you assumed he would. It was good and it let you heal a little easier. But now here he was, calling you out of the blue. 

Your heart was pounding. You knew you shouldn’t answer it. There was no need. It was nearly midnight and you should just let it keep ringing and go to bed, fully forget about him like you’d been trying to do.

You answered it after one more ring. “Hello?” 

“Love.” His voice traveled through the phone so smoothly, wrapping around you like a thick blanket on a cold day. 

Your breath hitched in your throat. “Why are you calling me?” you whispered. 

There was a lot of noise on his end, music and people shouting. His response was barely audible. “Missed you, of course.” 

You sat there waiting for more, phone pressed up against your ear, heart racing. “It’s been six months, Van.”

He sighed into the phone. “God, I've waited so long just to hear you say my name.”

You could tell by the way his words formed, like he was speaking in cursive, that he was drunk. 

You cleared your throat. “Is something wrong? Do you actually have a reason to be calling me?”

“Don’t be so serious, love,” he chuckled. “Can’t we just talk?”

“No, we can’t,” you replied shortly. You licked your lips before you spoke again. “I think I should go.”

“No, no, please don’t,” he replied quickly, his tone shifting. “I just… I need to apologize. I’m sorry for everything, love. I fucked up and I know that. I treated you badly. But I want you back. I haven’t stopped thinking about this shit since we broke up. I need to feel you,” he breathed into the phone. 

You exhaled shakily. “Van. I’m with someone else.” 

He didn’t say anything for so long you thought he’d hung up. But then you heard him cough and after a moment, he spoke. “You’re serious?” 

“Yeah. We’ve been together for a couple months now.”

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.” This time he hung up, leaving you sitting alone on your couch, jaw dropped and mind racing. 

Over the next few days, you tried not to think about the phone call. Tried to force the memories that were resurfacing down into that private spot in the back of your brain reserved just for him. You’d spent so long pushing those thoughts back but it was hard to stop them now. 

After a week, you broke down. You looked him up to see what he’d been doing since you’d broken up. You scoured the internet, reading every article that talked about Catfish being the next big rock group, watching every live performance you could. You were entranced by his stage presence, thrashing around on his guitar the same way he’d done when you saw him play for the first time at that tiny pub, years ago. 

You’d seen him play so many venues throughout his career but watching videos of him online now that he wasn’t yours brought you right back to the memory of twenty year-old Van, so naive, head full of dreams to become famous enough to play with the likes of The Killers or The Strokes. 

Of course, you’d always known he would take those seemingly impossible desires and crush them with ease. He had such a strong love for music and for performing and he was just so fucking talented that you were never surprised when he’d called you up to tell you some exciting news about the arenas they would be playing that seemed to just get larger and larger each time. 

You realized that since you’d last seen him, he’d only become more successful. Within those few months, they’d released the album he’d been working so hard on while you were still together. You read reviews and everyone loved it. No surprise there. You wouldn’t let yourself listen to it even though you wanted to so desperately. It would only make things worse. 

The hole in your chest that opened up after you’d ended things with him was growing a little each day and there was nothing you could do about it.

It didn’t help that Van started to call you regularly. Every couple of weeks, like clockwork, he’d call you, always while he was drinking. And every time you tried to just ignore it - but you never could. 

At first, he kept it innocent enough. He’d always say he missed you but then he’d ask you how you were doing, wanting to know about work, your family. He’d jump into stories about the new album and all the interviews and traveling he’d been doing, words slurring together so beautifully. 

Then he started to push his boundaries. His voice would get so low and raspy as he told you how he missed your hands, your body, your mouth. You’d lick your lips, eyes fluttering shut as he whispered all the things he wanted to do to you over the phone. 

You knew it was wrong. You knew that you weren’t being faithful to Will. But you just couldn’t fucking let go. 

“Can he touch you like I can?” he rasped into the phone one night as you were curled up in bed, tucked under the covers. 

Whenever he spoke like this, you tried your best not to say anything back. You figured maybe then it wouldn’t be considered cheating (but you knew it still was). 

“Bet he can’t even make you cum.”

“Van!” you half-squealed, half-scolded in surprise. He chuckled at your response, the flick of his lighter audible. 

“Am I wrong, sweetheart?”

You cleared your throat, curling your toes and trying to make yourself less fucking turned on. “I can’t keep talking to you,” you muttered after a moment. “It’s not fair to Will. I’m serious, Van. This… whatever the fuck you’re doing, it needs to end now.”

He took a deep breath. “Just let me see you and show you what you’ve been missing. Then I’ll leave you alone if you want.” 

“No, Van. I can’t do that. I don’t want to talk to you anymore, okay? Don’t bother calling me anymore. I’m done with whatever this is.” 

After this, he did stop calling you, thankfully. You felt guilty about the whole situation, so you focused all of your energy on Will, being the one to surprise him with gifts and send him those endlessly long sweet texts he loved so much. He could tell you were acting a little different - you never were one for all that sappy shit - but he soaked it up with no questions asked. 

“So what are you up to tonight?” Will asked you over the phone one Saturday night. You were digging through your closet, looking for that certain dress that was nowhere to be found.

“I’m meeting up with my sister and her boyfriend, they’re staying at a friend’s in town and I haven’t seen her in a while.” 

“That sounds great. I gotta go, Dad’s calling me but have fun, love.” 

You hated it when he called you love but you never had the heart to tell him. 

“Fuck’s sake,” you muttered under your breath as you stepped into the bar later. It was crowded, full of obviously underage people, little room for you to weave your way to the bar. You scanned the room until you saw your sister, Emily. 

She waved at you excitedly from a booth, a huge grin across her face. “Hey!” she said as you hugged her tight. 

“I’ve missed you so much,” she said with a pout as you slid in the booth across from her and her boyfriend, Oliver. 

“God, I know. It’s been too fucking long.” 

You chatted for a long time, Oliver continuously feeding you alcohol, like usual. 

“So how’s Will? We’re both dying to meet him,” Oliver said, taking a sip of his beer. 

“Good, yeah. He’s got some family stuff going on so he’s actually been out of town for a bit. But you’ll definitely have to meet him soon.” 

Emily smiled at you, leaning her head on Oliver’s shoulder. “And you’re doing okay still, after the whole Van thing?” she asked, her voice lowering. 

Emily was the only person who understood your perspective from your whole relationship with Van. They always got along really well and she liked him a lot. She’d comforted you as best as she could through your breakup while she was out of the country. 

“Yeah, I’m alright. It’s been close to a year, so y’know. Moved on and everything.” She nodded, giving you a look of clear disbelief that you ignored. 

“Speak of the devil.” You furrowed your eyebrows, turning to look at where her gaze was fixed. 

There he was, walking through the door in that ratty old leather jacket, his head tilted back in a laugh. 

“Jesus Christ. Why me?” you muttered, sinking down in your seat. 

“Do you wanna go?” Emily asked.

You shook your head. “No, it’s fine. Everywhere else is gonna be packed right now. I’ll just ignore him.”

And you tried your best to do just that but when he leaned up against the jukebox right in your peripheral vision, it was hard not to notice him. You hadn’t seen him in person in nearly a year and God, he looked good. You glanced at him occasionally, hoping he wouldn’t notice as you ran your eyes up and down his body. He looked taller somehow, older, his hair a little longer and pushed back off his face. 

You snuck another look at him, and this time he was staring right back at you. You knocked over your drink, spilling the last bit on the table in front of you. “Oh, shit,” you muttered. Oliver laughed, grabbing you some napkins to help wipe it up. 

“Very smooth,” Emily said with a chuckle. 

After a minute, you glanced at him again. He was still staring at you, a little smirk playing on his lips this time. You tore your gaze away from him, trying to focus back in on what Emily and Oliver were teasing each other about. 

You didn’t even have to turn your head to know his eyes were fixed on you still, burning a hole in the back of your head. You shifted around in your seat, finishing your drink and trying to pretend he didn’t exist. “Should we do a shot?” you asked with a grin.

By midnight, you were tipsy. Emily and Oliver bid you adieu, only having to walk a short distance to where they were staying, leaving you to go the bathroom before you called yourself a cab. You squeezed through the crowd, relieved when you finally stumbled outside. 

You looked around at the alley, a little disoriented. You realized you must’ve gone out the wrong door when you heard his voice. 

“Hey.” You turned and there he was, leaning against the brick and smoking a cigarette. You turned to go back inside when his voice stopped you. “Don’t go. Please.” 

You stepped toward him, crossing your arms. “What do you want, Van?”

He finished his cigarette and lit another with the end of the first, exhaling without taking it out of his mouth.

“Guess you didn’t come looking for me, then?”

You shook your head quickly. “No. I was trying to go home but I’ve never been here before and I went out the wrong fucking door and now I’m here with you,” you whined, kicking some dirt in front of you. 

“Bit drunk, are you?” 

You rolled your eyes, leaning your side on the building so you were facing him. “So what if I am? Learned it from you.”

He cleared his throat, taking a long drag of his cigarette. “I don’t drink as much anymore, y’know. Cut down a lot. Quit drugs too, just a little smoking here and there.” 

You raised your eyebrows at him. “And I’m supposed to believe that?” 

“I’ve changed, love,” he replied softly. “Changed because of you.” 

He inched closer to you, close enough that you could see the bags under his eyes and the stubble forming on his chin. 

You looked at the ground, trying so hard to push away the thoughts that invaded your head. Here he was, standing before you after all this time. He was real and alive and so much more than the ghost you’d been living with for the past year. Your head was spinning, the alcohol only adding to the situation. You felt sick to your stomach. 

“Hey,” he whispered, bringing his thumb and forefinger to your chin, tilting your head up and forcing you to stare right back at him. He looked so sad, his eyes empty, tongue swiping over his bottom lip. “I wish you’d look at me the same.” 

“What do you want from me, Van? We’re not good together. You know that.”

He shook his head quickly. “Things’ll be different now, love. I promise.”

“A promise from you doesn’t mean anything.” 

He ran a hand down his face. “I’m sorry,” he murmured. He reached forward, grabbing your hand. Tears formed at the corners of his eyes, forcing him to blink them away quickly. 

Your voice shook. “I’m sorry too. But it doesn’t matter anymore.” 

“It does matter. It does matter because I can’t do this without you anymore. I fucking need you.”

And he was kissing you and suddenly you were nineteen again, his hands traveling everywhere they could, pushing you against the brick wall. You gripped his shirt, knotting it in your hands as you kissed him back, pulling him tight against you. Everything about him was so familiar, his calloused hands against your hips, the smell of his shampoo, the taste of his tongue. You were like putty in his hands. A low noise came from his throat and God, you needed him closer.

You felt like the wind had been knocked out of you but you didn’t care. It was Van after all, Van pressed up against you exactly the way you’d dreamed of in the back of your mind for the past year. 

You kissed in the alley and in the back of the cab and didn’t stop until you had to pull away to unlock your front door. You tossed your keys on the ground, dragging him into your bedroom, hands slipping under his shirt. “Love what you’ve done with the place,” he mumbled, looking around your room as you kissed his neck.

The weight of him on top of you was just as you’d remembered. This is what you’d been missing, you realized. His fingers running down your spine, over your hips, around your neck, relearning every dip and curve of your body. Like he could have ever forgotten. 

“Fucking beautiful. Perfect,” he mumbled against your skin. 

You curled your toes, head tilted back, just like that, Van.

He was everywhere, right where you needed without even asking him. He was showing you what he could do for you, how he could take care of you - this is how it could be forever, if you’d let him. 

You arched your back, letting obscene sounds slip from your mouth, his fingers bruising your hips, fuck, you feel so good. 

Tears pricked at your eyes when he whispered that he loved you in your ear. 

You laid your head on his chest as you both caught your breath, his arms wrapped tightly around you. You closed your eyes, focusing hard on the way his chest rose and fell, how his lips felt against your forehead, every part of him against you. You never wanted to forget it. 

He moved your hair off your shoulder, ghosting his fingers along your collarbones, up and down your arm. “You don’t know how happy I was when I saw you tonight,” he said after a moment. 

“I was clearly surprised, knocking my drink over and all,” you replied, attempting a smile. 

He laughed softly, bringing your hand to his lips to press soft kisses against your knuckles. “Honestly, though, love. Been so lost without you. I’ve changed a lot but I realized none of it mattered if I didn’t have you.”

Your breath hitched in your throat and you closed your eyes. You thought of the very first time you kissed so many years ago, fumbling hands and teeth clinking together. You thought of the first time you made love, fingers interlaced and hushed voices. You thought of the first time he told you he wanted you to have his children, when he said he couldn’t believe how lucky he was that he’d get to spend the rest of his life with you. 

You thought of all of this as a lump formed in your throat, refusing to go away no matter how hard you swallowed. You thought of the fights and the drinking and the hours you’d cried over him, the overwhelming emotion that was like a goddamn tidal wave with him, always pulling you back in. 

“How ‘bout you love me again?” Van whispered, tilting your head up and bringing his mouth to yours. 

Two words. Two words was all it took to break his heart all over again. 

“I can’t.”

#vanfic #catb fanfic #van mccann fanfic #van mccann #catb #my fic #songfic #catfish and the bottlemen #van x reader #fanfic #van mccann fanfiction

[athela-3]

mankai company: cyberpunk

I never asked for this. But that’s just how ideas work, ain't it? One minute you’re mindlessly going through the daily grind, and the next moment it hits ya like a sucker punch to the gut. Then your mind’s racing, and you think: Why not? Whaddaya have to lose? You’ve rambled your way through semi-coherent flashes of inspiration before. Why should this one be different?

Note: everyone is aged up, oh, let’s say at least five years. Also, long post is long. I’m not joking. The page break is there for a reason.

Mankai Company is a modest-sized corporation specialising in biotechnology and cybernetics. But operating beneath its public face is a semi-covert band of mercs, private eyes, and fixers called Kaga Solutions, fully-equipped to navigate the mean city streets on command. Their founder and CEO, Yukio Tachibana, has recently disappeared; as per his express wishes, the company leadership is transferred to his estranged daughter, Izumi. 

Izumi Tachibana: the new CEO, more experienced in programming than in biotech, she wants to lead Mankai in a new direction focused on augmented reality and fluid human-machine interfacing, while also investigating her father's disappearance with its covert Kaga operatives.

Isuke Matsukawa: Yukio's—and now Izumi's—personal assistant who also handles most of the day-to-day finances, a seemingly bumbling man with hidden talents. He has more connections than you'd expect, and his loyalty is bone-deep.

Yuzo Kashima: a major shareholder in the company whose investments helped Yukio jump-start his dream into reality. Initially skeptical of Izumi's direction, he slowly grows to believe in her vision, even if he's still brutally honest about many things. He's aware of Kaga and the hidden side of Mankai, and is implied to have once partaken in it more personally.

Tetsuro Iwai: the local hardware genius. If you need something built, he'll figure out how to do it in record time. He's happy to work with the old boss' daughter, even if her ideas can stretch him to his limits sometimes.

Ken Sakoda: nobody's really sure what his official job is. He's just always there, usually appearing out of nowhere to do whatever Sakyo asks him to (there's rumours of a personalised cloaking device). This ranges from coffee runs to, ah, semi-legal inventory procurement.

Kamekichi: a robot parrot Yukio personally built as a pet project. Originally a prototype for robotic therapy animals, his code gave birth to his own emergent sassy personality.

Sakuya Sakuma: head of Engineering, what he lacks in experience he makes up in talent and dedication. Has politely declined playing a more active role in Kaga's assignments, declaring his current job to already be his dream job anyhow.

Masumi Usui: a tech prodigy, a quick learner who's always keen to impress Izumi for reasons which may not be strictly professional. Built his own memory implants from scratch, and is always willing to help with Kaga if ever asked.

Tsuzuru Minagi: the top dog when it comes to programming and software. Tends to overwork himself, especially at crunch time, but he writes top-notch code that leave Mankai's competitors scratching their heads. Also helps oversee and plan Kaga's missions, especially when it comes to concocting cover stories and identities.

Itaru Chigasaki: yet another punch-clock worker whose only skills lie in testing and bugfixing… or so he'd have you believe. In reality, he's one of Kaga's most reliable operatives, using his salaryman persona to relieve suspicion and gain people's trust. By the time his targets notice the "GG EZ" hacked onto every screen, it's too late.

Citron: another Kaga operative, people see him and think he's the expat office worker who struggles to string a coherent sentence together, so they don't always pay attention to what they say around him. Big mistake. If he can't evade you in conversation, then he'll evade you the traditional way and vanish seemingly into thin air.

Chikage Utsuki: formerly Itaru's senior at their old job, who followed him to Mankai for reasons of his own. He does minor coding for them now, but his primary focus is on being a field agent for Kaga, where his charm and covert investigative skills really come into play.

Tenma Sumeragi: a former child actor, now the company's face, appearing in advertisements and endorsements. He's great at both presenting Mankai's personable, human-interest agenda and selling Kaga's sharp professionalism to potential clients.

Yuki Rurikawa: hired fresh out of university, his sharp sense of aesthetics led Izumi to trust him with practically all of their product design. Every concept has to have his seal of approval before moving to the production stage. He also handles disguises for Kaga's operations.

Muku Sakisaka: formerly slated to compete in the Olympics before an accident, he now provides another public face for Mankai alongside Tenma. He writes a good deal of the company's promotional material, and has a strong sense of what would affect their clients.

Misumi Ikaruga: officially, he tests the more physical cybernetics, such as Sakuya's impact-dampeners or Tasuku's mountain-climbing legs; his videos performing literally superhuman parkour feats often end up as promotional material. Under the table, he's Kaga's go-to operative for situations requiring speed and agility.

Kazunari Miyoshi: head of the PR department, in charge of keeping their public image in the positive while also keeping Kaga’s activities mostly out of attention. He keeps everyone in the loop with current affairs, often feeding intel to his old friend Tsuzuru for planning.

Kumon Hyodo: baseball's new rising star, he started doing sponsorship and endorsement deals after Muku and Juza introduced him to Izumi. He's enthusiastic about working with them and often helps coming up with ideas for reaching into the sports demographic.

Banri Settsu: a bio-augmentation enthusiast and grey hat hacker, he once breached Mankai's firewalls basically out of boredom; when Izumi tracked him down, she decided to offer him a job in her cybersecurity division, and he agreed. Of course, as soon as he hears about Kaga, he all but jumps into it headlong.

Juza Hyodo: wanted to be a cop as a kid; that was before the city's corrupt police force disenchanted him of the idea. His cousin Muku convinced him to work for Mankai, so he thought he'd give the corporate samurai gig a chance. His earnest dedication quickly wins him a spot on Kaga, as do his excellent combat skills.

Taichi Nanao: initially a mole from Godza, sent to tear Kaga apart from within, he went turncoat within months and is now their primary source on Godza's methods and internal affairs. He balances quick and dirty combat tactics with his boyish charm and knack at appearing harmless.

Omi Fushimi: former military, honourably discharged after a terrorist attack took out his best friend and left him heavily injured. Now he works for Mankai as head of security, with a bit of unofficial HR thrown in there. Unlike the rest of Akigumi, he isn't part of Kaga, as he believes his focus should be on keeping the company safe and secure.

Sakyo Furuichi: head of Kaga, and its oldest member still on active duty. These days he mostly sticks to mission control, but occasionally lends support on the field if he deems it necessary. His sharp mind and eye for patterns makes him particularly good at planning missions, exit strategies, and backup plans.

Azami Izumida: the son of a yakuza boss who decided to leave the family business behind to strike out on his own, he still keeps a number of his old underworld contacts. Officially an intern, he's also eager to get into fieldwork with Kaga, putting his years of swordsmanship lessons to use.

Tsumugi Tsukioka: head of biotech, his research on how cranial implants can be used to treat sleep disorders turned him—and Mankai—into a household name. He infrequently lends a hand to Kaga by developing and fine-tuning their cybernetics.

Tasuku Takato: a former member of Godza, he quit his job to work for Mankai instead, and is now a valued member of their biotech team. He specialises in developing prosthetics for their more athletic clients, and like Tsumugi, focuses on his R&D most of the time.

Hisoka Mikage: formerly working for a similar fixer/PMC group, a near-fatal neuro-implant malfunction caused him to forget everything that happened since its installation. As Mankai found him, removed the bad implant, and nursed him back to health, he thought it's just apt to repay the debt by working for them. One of Kaga's most well-rounded operatives, he is strongest in stealth and wetwork.

Homare Arisugawa: an eccentric professor to his core; his studies range from urban to agrarian, sprawling across fields and topics, but his passion project lies in developing ocular implants that can read micro-expressions on the fly, allowing its owner to identify and record people's emotional reactions easily.

Azuma Yukishiro: the face of the biotech divison, he works closely with Mankai's clients to help them find the perfect cybernetics for their personal needs. He also often gleans information and gossip from his endless well of unsuspecting acquaintances and old contacts, passing them on to Kaga for their missions.

Guy: a friend of Citron's from his homeland; extensively cybernetically augmented after a major accident years ago, he claims to be more machine than human by this point. Ostensibly Homare's research assistant, he is a field agent for Kaga, equally skilled in hacking as he is in hand-to-hand combat.

#a3! #a3! au #mankai x kaga #that's what imma call it #not gonna tag everyone bc hoo boy #a3! act! addict! actors! #it started from an icon #then a header #then a whole bloody au #also #in which azami is kinda genji shimada #hisoka owes inspiration from morgan yu #guy and omi bears the adam jensen legacy #and homare's backstory has a random mordin solus reference #don't mind me explaining my own jokes lol #ari's stuff

[fourmisfitz]

Breakthru: Part 3 (Roger Taylor x Reader)

Part One | Part Two

Warnings/Content: Swearing, Angst, etc... the whole shibang, really (but no smut... yet;)) (18+)

Words: 4k

A/N: I cried while writing this 🤗 Hope you enjoy, my lovelies! Please let me know what you thought! (Picture whichever Roger; I switch between seeing it as Ben!Roger and late 70s Rog) P.S. there will def be more than 4 parts to this series. Probably 6-7...

“Did we even pay for this?”

“Oh trust me, I’m paying for it alright.” You scoffed at yourself.

His fork clonked against the plate when his shoulders slumped.

“I meant the food.”

You knew that, but you couldn’t shake your unexpected encounter enough to give undivided attention to dinner right now. You timidly swirled your fork around a cluster of noodles as a barking dog outside echoed into the dining room.

“Right… then no.” You shoved the bite into your mouth, eyes eventually meeting Roger’s as your head remained bowed at your plate.

A huff crossed the table to your hand, carried by the frigid air blowing in through the window behind Roger.

“Okay I get that you’re giving me the cold shoulder for whatever reason, but could you at least clos-.”

“For whatever reason?!” He inquired.

You slumped back in your chair, already knowing you were in the wrong.

“How do you think it feels to be the middleman? And you taking stabs at yourself about how you’re “paying for it” is supposed to make me feel better, I suppose? Like I’m just some inconvenience?” Air quotes accented his irritation.

“No!” You spat. “I didn’t mean it like- but-”  You were growing more frustrated, Roger being the last person you wanted to pick a fight with right now, “you know, you’re acting like I invited him, Roger.” Your forearms dug into the edge of the table as you propped yourself forward.

Roger finished a gulp of his beer, his hand paving back his hair out of habit. His head shook as his scurried gaze avoided eye contact, brows furrowed. It’s what he did when he was focused, caring about the subject, but it came with impulsivity.

“Right, no- but you-”

“But I what, Roger? But I: invited him into this mess? I created this mess.” You watched his eyelashes flicker before meeting with yours. “But I: didn’t lie better to keep a suspecting husband out of the picture?- Who, need I remind you, has a reason to be suspicious and even more than that: furious?! Or, here we go-”

Roger pled your name to stop,

“but I: am the one who shouldn’t have cheated in the first place?...” You carried on. “I wasn’t happy, Roger, I-... things don’t always work out picture-perfect for every party, and i hate-” Your voice broke, “-that I’m hurting him- that we’re hurting him, because as much as it sucks, this is equally our problem now.” You shoved your rickety chair out from the table and stood up hastily, banging your knee into the edge as you did so, sobs threatening to escape.

He swallowed his expression before reaching behind him, the clack of the window lock making you jump slightly before collecting yourself and retreating to the kitchen, dishes in hand.

Roger sat, not sure what to do as he anxiously drummed his fingers until they fell out of rhythm when you returned to his chair. With something held by your hip, you reached out a patient hand. After a moment that felt like forever, he moulded his cautious, calloused hand with yours and you led him to the living room.

The leather cushions sank as both of your bodies fell into them. You brought the burgundy object to your lap and Roger squeezed your hand slightly when he recognized it. Scattered black letters that nearly spelled “A Royal Family” were glued to the fabric, a few missing. Of course, Roger had crossed out the family part months ago and wrote “pain in my ARSE” in Sharpie during a pointless fight between his bandmates; it made up for the absent letters.

“You still have it…” His marvelling voice was light.

“Of course; I basically slaved over it for a week.”

He offered an airy laugh as his fingers ghosted over the cover gently.

You flicked through a few pages, crinkled from beer stains and remnants of other unidentified things, collecting your memories with the band. It illustrated you being a friend to all of them, before this “love” triangle formed.

The first instalment was from the second time you met Queen, because the first interaction had you too nervous to introduce your Polaroid camera. Another photo showed Roger pinching your cheeks with one hand, your smile still evidently bright even in the pufferfish lips you wore as your eyes squeezed shut. Also pictured: Freddie in a hospital gown holding a thumbs up while Roger pouted beside him…

Roger let out a deep, throaty laugh, “Do you remember that?” the ink in the image pooled a ring around his indicative finger as pressed into it - the time he had shoved his drum kit off the risers and a heavier floor tom fumbled down onto Freddies foot. Freddie had laughed between his exclaims of pain so Roger wouldn’t feel as bad, cracking jokes and teasing him, perfectly in-tune with his nature.

You snorted, “How could I forget? You screamed siren sounds the whole drive to the hospital, and then some!”  Roger returned a light laugh and rubbed the back of his neck before moving the album onto his lap for closer inspection.

It was all there, all your memories before this messy situation were captured over the past few years in this book. Of course, some had become more tainted memories than others; the photo of Brian kissing your cheek in the studio and your eyes gleaming brighter than the flash ever could. You couldn't remember what had happened before the shutter clicked, but maybe that was from intentional practice to forget. The time you tripped over some amp chords Freddie had left exposed even after countless requests from Brian to tidy it up - in the photo was you on the carpet, right knee all bloodied up as Freddie hugged you, though his passion translated into more of a choke hold. Johns hand was visible, cleaning the wound, and Brian looked scoldingly at Freddie in the background. You didn’t remember much, but behind the camera, Roger was the one who made you smile enough to stop the tears that were still apparent on your cheeks.

“I like this one.” Roger pointed at a corner photo you missed amongst the others crowding the page.

“Why?” You laughed, embarassed.

“Because it was the first time I saw you so… free.” He placed his palm over your aching knee, instantly making the throbbing go away. There you were, in a convertible with the band, your bum on the rim of the side window, only legs inside the car as your arms outstretched behind you and the wind blew your hair every which way.

“I remember you had been going on and on… and ON and ON-” He teased, rocking his head for emphasis.

“Okay, okay!” You felt a bit of that heavy ladening weight dissipate with your laughs.

“-honestly, love, I don’t even know what it was you were saying: you spoke so fast… but seeing you so carefree and in your element speaking pure passion about some song and how music can make us feel-... well it made me think-…” He ogled at the photo some more.

“Made you think what, Rog?”

“...I knew right then, I wanted to be with you.”

You felt the corners of your lips pinch dimples into your cheeks as you kissed his warm cheek and his grip tightened on your knee.

“You’re not an inconvenience, Roger...” you watched the side of his face as he looked up at you.

“You’re the best thing that has ever happened to me.” You corrected.

He smiled bigger than you’d seen in a while, and he started playfully attacking your entire face with a bundle of quick kisses all over, pulling giggles from you.

At that moment, just when you began enjoying your night again, your phone vibrated from your back pocket. You groaned and dropped your head in response.

“You know I think we should just throw our phones away.” Rogers eyes remained grazing the photos.

“Deaky.” You confirmed, earning an intrigued look from him.

Answering hesitantly, you listened as his soft voice spoke your name worriedly over the line.

“Everything alright, John?”

Roger watched your mouth open several times to speak, but no words came out until you finally put John at ease with, “Alright- yeah, I’ll- I’ll go check it out, okay?”

“What was that about?”

“I have to go check something…”

Roger blinked.

“John’s worried about Brian; says he’s down at The Crooked Frame and he’s well-through a round of shots to himself. He didn’t care for anything he had to say and wants me to try to get him to go home.”

Roger nodded and you pecked his forehead goodbye.

“I love you.” Roger whispered. You levelled your eyes with his, “I love you too.” and kissed his lips properly before grabbing your jacket and keys.

On your drive over, you didn’t know what to expect. All you knew was that in over a year, Brian hadn’t had anything stronger than a pint or two, and he definitely wasn’t one to drink alone.

~

“Sweetheart, turn it down, you’re gonna blow the speakers!” His voice crescendoed in equal amusement and caution as his long fingers turned down the volume knob.

“Hey! I like that song!” You poked his arm as the wind took over for surround sound, only faint echoes of Tom Petty ringing throughout the car.

His laugh was deep and delightful.

“I love that song, but I don’t love false auto repair quotes.”

You returned the chuckle and shook your head in admiration. Smiling contently at him now, you rested your chin upon your fist, propped up by your elbow on the center console.

“Do you know what else I love?” He yelled over the rippling wind, pushing his long locks out of his face with one hand.

“My singing voice?” You turned the volume back up to full.

“Hey, watch it!” He went to reposition it when you interrupted his motion by clasping your fingers with his.

“C’mon, babe- sing it with me…- Tryin’ she, had one little promise, she was gonna keep!” You bellowed the lyrics at the top of your lungs, not a care in the world if you were off key.

He shook his head and unable to resist, joined in on the fun.

“Oh yeah! All right!” Your voices collided in unison, drowning out the stereos guiding voice.

He pointed a finger at you in cue.

“Take it easy baby!” You tried to match the throaty melody in the original song, your torso swaying with passion.

“Make it last-” “Make it last all ni-ight!” You each sang your respective parts and after a moment he redestined the volume back to static.

“I love you.” He finished.

And you looked at him like he held all the power in the world. Your heart caught up to the speed of his car and it felt like everything had been aligned at that moment. Your breath hitched in your chest for awhile until you realized you weren’t dreaming and should probably say something.

“Aww, I love you too, Bri!” And you threw your denim jacket-clad arms around his neck, feeling everything, all at once.

He let go of a breath and took another one in that could finally reach the pit of his lungs in relief. You withdrew your arms and instead hugged his arm. Brian glanced at your head on his shoulder, and turning back to the road, he smiled to himself and kissed your hair.

You closed your eyes at the gesture and squeezed his arm with both hands in appreciation. He loved you; he said it, and you felt the same. And it was almost irrevocable. Almost.

He turned the volume back up once and for all.

“She was, an American girl!” You both sang along again, the song ringing throughout the car again.

♫ He crept back in her memory

God it's so painful ♫

~

The bar wasn’t a ghost town, but it wasn’t exactly bustling on a tuesday night, either. Brian wasn’t hard to miss, sitting at a desolate counter where the female behind it was tending to old men strewn along the stools. You made your way over, the men ogling at you like you were meat. One of them even squeezed your ass as you made your way to him, prompting you to shoot the man a look and flinch away.

“Pretty dodgy place to be spending your Tuesday, don’t you think?” You offered.

Brians sweaty curls were glued to his face as he slugged back the second shot of what must have been his second round.

He wreaked of body odor and a variety of musky liquor.

You took a controlled breath in and tried again.

“This seat taken?” You asked lightly, only to be answered with a slow look that could only be described as a glare. He looked down at the stool silently, back at you, then shrugged as his eyes returned to the shots waiting to be gulped.

You sat down and when the bartender asked if you could use a quick fix, tequila it was. You figured you would be here awhile.

“Have you seen John, tonight?”

He just shrugged and mumbled.

You leaned the side of your head on your propped palm, facing him.

“Well he’s seen you, and we’re worried.” You prodded.

“Bull.” He croaked, reaching for the third shot.

You covered the shot before he could grasp it.

“You can’t just drink away the night, you know. I know you’re hurting, but-” You took a confirming gaze around the room, a thick musty layer of smokey fog glazing the air. Scattered coughs and clinks of pints between men with their pants too low echoed throughout. “-but we’ve gotta get you home, Bri.”

You reached out to take his arm, but he swatted you away, pure offense lacing his long face, all the way to his clenched jaw. You watched on timidly.

He dipped his head back again and slammed that third glass down, clattering against the rest, not earning a single head turn.

“Home? Is that so?” He scoffed. “Yippee, I get to go home to a warm cozy bed, to my wife, and- oh no- that’s Roger who’s pulled that straw, isn’t it?”

You tried to keep calm even though it was becoming more obvious that this wasn’t going to be pretty in the slightest.

“Brian, don’t be mad at Roger-”

He didn’t stop you, but when he looked at you you realized you didn’t even know how to continue your sentence.

You twiddled your fingers and starting faking interest in your cuticles.

“I want to kiss you.” He finally chirped.

Your hands began to shake beneath your gaze, then you met your eyes to his. Yours grew glossy first.

“Brian,”

“I want to kiss you and shove you against a wall and fall asleep with you cradled in my arms, against my chest-”  Brian took your wrist rather aggressively and pressed your palm to his sweaty chest. “-where you’re safe.” You could feel his heart beating fast enough to put him into cardiac arrest beneath his button-up.

You swallowed your shaky breath and glanced from your hand to his worrisome eyes.

“I love you.” You spoke softly.

His eyebrows allowed some space to come between them. Hope, until:

“But-”

“Don’t say but,”

You drew in another breath, and you began to feel the alcohol bubble in the pit of your stomach. That- or brians words sank like an anchor that would always be instilled in you.

“Alright... I love you, and,” You retracted your hand to your side, “You’re not my safehouse, anymore.” You stood up from your stool and dove your arm under the strap of your purse; it was time to go.

Brian grabbed your shoulder like a warning as you pivoted away from the bar, trying to shake his words into your veins.

“Well you either love me, and you feel that-”  but all you felt was a growing numbing sensation from the tequila settling in. “-or you don’t feel anything at all, and that’s why you’re able to do this.” His voice croaked on the last few syllables.

Ultimatums didn’t make the choice any easier, and you were well invested into your decision by now.

His eyes pierced you with a stern, desperate gaze, practically burning a hole in your face.

You wanted to tell him so many things in this moment; how it’s more complicated than whether you do, or you don’t. How you’ll always have a spot for him in your heart, but you have more love for Roger, because he was there when Brian wasn’t. You didn’t just wake up one day and hate him in a heartbeat, after one fight. It was small at first - things you would have shaken off on their own, but then everything piled up, one after the other, and over time it bottled up and overflowed out of you. You were coming home and leaving your 9-5 for a 24/7. You had your transgressions to be burdened with for how you dealt with things, but he drove you away. You wanted to say so many things to Brian, but all that came out when you took his quivering jaw into your hands was:

“You are an epic person, Brian, but you’re not my person anymore.”

You bowed your head and went to leave again when he added,

“What am I supposed to do then? You’ve got part of me inside you.”

You looked back, caught off-guard by his words.

“’n case you’ve forgot...” He added. “Or are you running away from that, also?”

As those last few words left his lips, slurred from boozing away his sorrows, you heard the bell of the tavern door chime. Had you not known it was Roger from his white jacket swallowing your peripherals, it wouldn’t have caught your attention.

Brians swallowed hard. “Right.” He smacked his empty shot glass on the counter and stood up messily, earning some preventative arms from you, just in case, only to be returned with a stern flexed hand dismissing your caution. “I see your person’s arrived.”

Roger watched, trying to guage the situation and determine a safe distance, hovering by the door.

You looked between the both of them, Brian sitting back down and already moving onto his next shot. You huffed and held up a waiting finger to Roger before retreating to the bathroom.

While you were gone, Roger took the liberty of trying to get on Brians level, or at least remind him that his liver hasn’t taken that much booze in too long.

“Come for a pity party?” Brian quipped, brows raised into his hairline.

“Look it’s time to go, Bri. I’ve called a cab, just let me help you u-”

“Fuck off.”

“Easy...” Roger lowered his voice, “Look mate, I know you’re upset, but I can’t watch you ruin yourself and run this any deeper-”

“Oh, you don’t know shit! And quit the high and mighty strut like you have no part in my ruining.” Brians eyes practically bulged out of his skull.

Rogers breaths kept to his nose as they became more heated, his pursed lips containing himself.

“You’re a homewrecker, and you’re a right twat.”

Brian was getting well up in Rogers face now, only making him grow more agitated by the second. Roger averted his eyes for a second, but Brian made sure to revert that with a prompting shove.

“Brian, you’re pissed drunk. You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Oh I think I know quite enough.”

“Alright,” Roger readjusted his shirt with a shrugging motion, “Fine, have at it - rip into me. I hurt you, I know that...” Brian watched on. “But she needed you. You pushed her away. I-” His index finger repeatedly stabbed his own chest, “won’t be blamed for being there for someone who needed somebody.”

“If she really needed me - if she really didn’t feel heard, she would have spoken up. She knows she can come to me with anything.”

“You sure about that?”

“Quite.”

“Willing to bet your life on it?” Roger pressed.

“Everything alright?” The bartender chirped, her expression appearing more annoyed than her tone, a lousy attempt to diffuse the situation.

Without either of them breaking eye contact, Roger nodded.

“Yeah. Was Just leaving, as a matter of fact.” Roger added, realizing he was only feeding the flame as he went leave before things got too ugly.

“Hey-!” But he was yanked back when Brian clenched a fistful of his jacket.

“You don’t get to just walk away.”

“I’m not walking away from you, Brian. But this-” Roger glared at the cluster of shot glasses, some spilling onto the floor, the receipt of them trailing down Brians chest. “isn’t you.”

“Oh so you know everything now, huh?”

“You’re right sloshed, just quit, and get in the cab, and we’ll talk later-”

“you know how my wife smells?”

“C’mon mate-”

“You know how my wife’s hands feel.” Brian took a step closer, really getting into rogers face, now.

Rogers only response was his nostrils flaring with anger and forced restraint, trying with all his might to contain himself and walk away.

“You know how my wife-” his nose was practically aligned with rogers, “tastes.” he growled.

You walked out after hearing some commotion, in time to see the aftermath of what followed a fist colliding with a nose, blood weaving into the spilled booze on the floor.

You gasped and threw yourself between them, screaming at them to stop. You took the hand of the fallen and yanked him back to his feet, spinning around to block them off.

“Do I need to call the cops? Or have you got your wives under control?” The bartenders raspy voice hollered.

“This is ridiculous.” You spat, looking between them, while one of them literally spat a bloody mess out of their mouth and the others chest heaved.

“C’mon, that cabs going to leave soon.”

You got in the backseat and instructed the driver with a huff, rubbing your eyes in exhaustion. You looked down at your growing bump and placed a palm to it as it kicked, tears pricking your eyes and you bit your lip to contain your rising sobs.

“I’m sorry.” He offered, placing a hand on your forearm.

“Me too.” And with that, you lifted your hands from your bump and habitually began wringing out your fingers.

You looked over to him, a dishevelled mess. You took his bloodied hand, uncurled his fingers, and as your tears fell into his palm you searched his eyes. You hunted for hate, because all of this would be a lot easier if he hated you, but all that came up to the surface was an ache. You placed your hand in his, wrapping your hands around it.

“Here we are!” The impatient taxi driver announced your address, and you withdrew your hands from his, unbuckled your seatbelt, and paid the driver.

“Wait-” He tried to call, but his voice barely rose above a croak.

“This is for him too, please make sure he gets inside.”

He pled your name softly, “Wait,”

You offered him a glance, waiting.

“C’mon, are you going or aren’t ya?” The driver grew more aggravated and you could tell caring about the passengers well being wasn’t exactly something money could buy.

You looked out the window at Rogers flat, then back to a speechless Brian, then waved the driver off, changing your mind.

Once you stumbled upstairs into your shared flat, you retrieved a washcloth from the linen closet, soaked it with warm water, and after you finally got Brian to quiet down from his guilty mumbles blaming himself, you pulled the duvet over him and pat his head with the cloth.

“’m sorry I did this. I pushed you away, I caused all of this. I’ll change- I’ll change myself for you, Y/N, I swear-!”

“Shhhh-shh-shhh...” You moved a clump of dampened curls out of his eyes as he gulped, looking between your eyes, his growing more heavy. “This isn’t on you, and I don’t want you to change.” You bowed your head and placed a kiss on his forehead.

He closed his tired eyes, and you rubbed your thumb soothingly over his cheek and temples for a moment, watching him doze off in seconds.

You placed something on your nightstand before crawling back up to him in bed and pressing another chaste kiss to his cool skin. “Things will feel whole again some day...”

And in the morning when he woke up, he didn’t find you in bed with him, but instead, a note.

He reached over and yanked the paper through half-asleep eyes, water spilling over from the glass you left him, as well as a clanging sound eliciting from something hitting it.

It rang throughout his ears as he read the words you left for him.

“I will always care about you, but right now, I can’t find my love for you. I should’ve done this awhile ago, and I’m sorry I didn’t sooner.”

Without peeling his stark eyes from the scrap paper, he outstretched his other arm and slammed his palm down on the source of the noise at the nightstand, and to his face, he lifted up the ring he put on your finger nearly a year ago.

♫ Something that's so close

And still so far out of reach ♫

#almost a plot twist #i like confusing the povs hehe #im like m night shy but for fics hehe #roger x reader #roger taylor x reader #roger taylor #ben!roger #ben hardy!roger taylor #roger taylor series #fic #imagine #series #breakthru #part 3 #four misfits #misfitsfics #Queen #band #fic rec #requested #brian may x reader #prompt #angst #fluff #smut #sad #cute #roger taylor x you #blonde #safe