#I mean let Daniel seat warm like he did for Oscar
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If Liam don’t get that seat in 2024 I hope he finds another team some joke if he wins the super formula and doesn’t get that AT seat and then the RB seat
#Liam deserves that seat so much more#I mean let Daniel seat warm like he did for Oscar#but fuck off giving him that seat for 2024#rambles
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Hiiii! I love this series and can you write where Amira and Dominik Szoboszlai (He's so fine🤭) go on a date and paparazzi was stalking them or something and Carlos and the grid go crazy and go on protective mode. After that every time she wants to go out someone has to go with her
Hi loves! I hope you enjoy reading my writings. My requests are always open.
-XoXo
The Szoboszlai case
Charles couldn't believe it. He had his phone in his hands, a picture of Amira and Dominik Szoboslai open on his Instagram. The two of them at lunch. Her, wearing a pretty blue of the shoulder summer top with shorts. Her hair done in beautiful summer waves. A light make up, that highlights her warm chocolate brown eyes. A content smile resting on her face. And then there was him, with his stupid smirk. And stupid hair. And his stupid hand resting on her perfect arm. How. Dare. He?!
When Charles first arrived at the conference room, he found himself alone. Seeking a moment of respite from the impending chaos of the Ferrari garage, he pulled out his phone. Instagram beckoned, and he hoped to catch glimpses of his beautiful girlfriend or their pretty babygirl. But fate had other plans.
Suddenly, Charles’s screen flooded with images of Amira Sainz sharing dinner with that infuriating footsy player. His mind raced, emotions colliding like race cars on a tight circuit. The room, once empty, now teemed with drivers, FIA employees, and officials. Max, seated next to Charles, leaned in. “Charlie, mate, are you alright?” he asked, concern etching his features. The other drivers followed suit, their collective gaze fixated on Charles. Carlos chimed in, “Yeah, Lord Percival. You look really pale.” The chorus of agreement echoed around him, a symphony of curiosity and worry.
When Charles remained silent, Lewis laid a comforting hand on his shoulder. “Charles, hey buddy. Talk to us. You’re kind of scaring us.” Encouraged by Lewis’s words, Charles turned his phone toward the others. The room erupted with various reactions. Carlos looked as though he’d seen a ghost, while Mad Max made his first appearance in five years. Pierre let out a blood-curdling “Nooooo,” Alex and George scrambled to catch a fainting Lando, and even Yuki dropped his Dino nuggets—a sure sign of shock.
After five tension-filled minutes, Daniel broke the silence. “We can’t let anything happen. This can’t turn into something,” he began. “Hell, boys, we won’t let a stupid football—” “Um, you mean soccer,” Logan interjected. “Shut up, Logan,” Max retorted. Daniel continued, carefully navigating Carlos’s presence, “Steal our … friend.”
Carlos, lost in his own world, grappled with the image of his perfect baby sister spending precious time with a stupid football player—someone who didn’t even play for Real Madrid. How could she? So imagine Carlos’s surprise when he was suddenly slapped across the face. All eyes turned to Charles. “Sorry. Are you with us again?” No one—not even the nice lady tending her Greek garden in Italy—expected the kind Monegasque to snap Carlos out of his panic with a resounding slap. “Always, Percival,” Carlos reassured. While the other drivers still reeled from the unexpected incident, the two Ferrari boys had already begun plotting how to keep Amira away from Domi—no, from Szoboszlai. (He didn’t deserve to be called by his first name.)
And boy, planning, they did.
The drivers constructed a kind of timetable for spending time with her. For example, Oscar would have the honor of spending every Monday dinner with her, from 5 p.m. to 10 p.m. George, on the other hand, would enjoy Wednesday mornings in her company—a fact he promptly shared with Carmen, who was more than delighted. Kika and Pierre were allowed Thursday lunchtime visits. The two of them had initially hoped for overnight stays, but Carlos put his foot down. The mere thought of them manipulating their way into sharing a bed with her… Well, Carlos didn’t even want to entertain that idea.
During Qualifying, Red Bull had the privilege of calling her their VIP guest. The race would be watched in the Ferrari garage, with her seated between their cousin and their Papá—or perhaps cuddled up between Rebecca and Alex.
So imagine Baby!Sainz’s surprise when she returned from her lunch with Dominik, who had been so friendly as to gift her a Versace necklace. She was immediately surrounded by Alex and Fernando. And the revelation that the two of them were friends? Well, that was a twist she hadn’t seen coming.
So everyday she would spend every hour of every day with either a driver, a wag, or both of them. And for some reason, Pierre and Kika always insisted on taking a shower during Thursdays lunch time. Together. But who was she to deny the princess treatment from them.
And Dominik?……. I'm sorry, who?
#formula 1#baby!sainz!sister#carlos sainz x sister!reader#charles leclerc x alexandra saint mleux x reader#charles leclerc x reader#max verstappen x reader#lando norris x reader#oscar piastri x reader#daniel riccardo x reader#lewis hamilton x reader#george russel x carmen mundt x reader#george russell x reader#alex albon x reader#fernando alonso x reader#pierre gasly x reader#yuki tsunoda x reader#dominik szoboszlai x reader
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Icehockey!oscar is making my head hurt today so i have to keep you waiting for now :/ In the meantime i have something kind of crack-ish for you (if that is something for you)
Do not ask me how we got here, i cannot think that far BUT imagine youre in some way affiliated/friends with the drivers and you all are at some kind of gala. After getting out of the hotel shower, you find a little gift on your bed (how did it get here? Who was in here?). You open it to find a lil pair of vibrating panties in it… without the remote. Dont ask me why but you decide to obey the note that came with it and wear it to the gala.
The evening goes on and you forget about them until they turn on. After collecting yourself and assuring your wellbeing to your conversation partners, you decide you have to find out who has the remote and makes a mess out of you. Eyeing drivers, over analysing how someone looks at you, ruling out suspects, etc. all while trying to be discrete.
Kind of like a whodunnit mystery with smut instead of murder.
Was ist lando? Could it have been estie bestie? Or Lewis? Maybe Max? What if its more than one person and they pass the remote around? Will you ever find out?
🫀
i’ll wait as long as u need <3
this idea is sooo sexy im obsessed. love love love the idea of it being multiple drivers passing the remote around because it throws her off the trail. like a scavenger hunt.
she tries to stay seated while looking around to see who’s controlling the toy but not be able to find majority of the drivers, so she decides to walk around the room while the setting is on low. within a few steps it’s cranked up and she’s trying not to collapse to her knees and sob. they keep changing the speed of the vibrations every few feet, and she’s frantically searching for drivers around the room, looking for one that has their hand in their pocket to use the remote.
imagine her bumping into charles and stuttering out an apology, wondering if he’s the one who’s been teasing her. he’s so concerned when he sees her flushed cheeks and she rests a shaky hand on chest to steady herself. he’d take her hand and ask if she’s okay and she’s just like, “yeah yep! no problem here, just a little warm.” he offers to take her our for fresh air or get her a cold drink and she writes charles off the list of possibilities because he acted so concerned, there’s no way he could know what has her flustered.
she would definitely think it’s daniel when she sees him watching her and she approaches and asks him to tone it down, and he innocently says, “this is only my second drink, what do you mean tone it down?” and she’s thinks, okay not danny he has no clue what i’m talking about. she apologizes and he asks if she’s okay and she’s like, yes of course, why wouldn’t i be? takes him off the list because he’s clueless
finding max sometime after that, he seeks her out and asks her to dance and she gives in because the pulses are on low and if it gets cranked up she knows it’s not him, if it stays the same, high chance it’s him. she presses herself close to him and relies on his support through the dance, resting her head on his shoulder and getting lost in the feeling of his hands on her body. she’s almost fully convinced it’s him by the end of the song, and when they part ways and she’s walking away the controls shoot up and she almost loses balance in her heels, but he catches her with both hands and teases her for being clumsy. she asks if it’s him and he plays the innocent act too, asking if who is him? scratches him off the list, but lets him guide her over to a chair and fetch her some water. she doesn’t know if he slipped his hand into his pocket and cranked it up as soon as she started walking away from him or if another driver was watching and playing with her.
she’s so confused by who could have sent her the gift, her mind wandering to the drivers she hasn’t seen yet, passively wondering if the two mclaren drivers are working together to avoid getting caught by her, or even max and daniel maybe? could it be someone who she would never suspect like lewis or even someone like esteban who she thinks is too respectful to ever sneak into a girls room and leave a pair of vibrating panties for her to wear out to a highly publicized gala.
i can see her finding out when she’s back at the hotel after hours of teasing and she’s getting herself off and there’s a knock at the door. when she opens it, the driver(s) would tell her that he’s disappointed he didn’t find her tonight, and she’s like, “well you found me, didn’t you? now, are you going to finish what you started or?”
or maybe she goes to the bathroom because she’s about to cum and he follows her and takes care of her in the bathroom and they leave together ??
there are so many possibilities
#ask#🫀anon#what do i even tag this under#slutty aus#that will work i think#anything that is ab multiple drivers im gonna tag slutty aus#why not
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Did you sort out your beef with pacrim au? I'm soooooo excited for ch1!! 🧡 and how many chapters do you think it will be?
hiiiiii!!! im still beefing with it a little to be honest but i think im gonna have to just publish it soon either way hashsahash theres just a lot of exposition in the first two chapters and it was kind of pissing me off? i dont think theres any way around it tho in this situation, so im just gonna let it sit for a few days before i do the final proofread and see if it's really that clunky or if ive just been looking at it for too long. it means i can spend that time trying to get ahead on the rest of it, so it's all good <3 its lookin kind of long rn. 10 chapters and an epilogue?
idk if ive posted this already? but
“The thing about it,” Max is saying, “is it’s just dirty leaf water until you have a really good one, I think. I went my whole life without drinking it, I loved it while I was there, and now that I’m here it’s like, why even bother with it. I know it will just taste like grass.”
He’s sprawled across the battered sofa in Charles’ office that Charles sleeps on sometimes, the window cracked open above him to let the sounds of the waves filter through. With one hand, he gestures along to his own words; with the other he squeezes Charles’ rubber band ball in his fist, over and over.
“There is a lot of good tea in the world, Max,” Charles points out. He’s seated at his desk, trying desperately to get some work done, no thanks to Max and his unending monologue about anything and everything. Max is a lot more interesting than the data sheets currently clogging his inbox, but Charles would be loathe to let him know that—especially when Max probably already knows anyway.
Max lets out a dubious noise that sounds a bit like a sheep and throws the ball, narrowly catching it before it lands on his own nose. “Not in Australia, mate, it’s not the same type.”
“How do you know? Have you tried it?”
“Daniel told me that. He said it’s better in Japan. It’s like how I only like the sushi in Japan because it’s of course better there.”
Charles tears his eyes away from his holoscreen to point a pen in Max’s direction. “That’s not true, you were just trying it with my tastes this time. Of course you like it now.”
“It’s definitely better in Japan,” Max says with a laugh.
“Well, yes, I am sure. But you like it now because I like it.”
“That’s not true.”
“Of course it’s true. You hate fish. You always have,” Charles insists. “The only fish you like is the kind I like too. Obviously it is not a coincidence.”
Max grins at the ceiling, tossing the rubber band ball again. “Who says you didn’t get it from me, then?”
Charles splutters. “I did not,” he protests. “The only things I got from you were pork cravings and rock lyrics, you tasteless—”
Two raps sound against his doorframe, and then Ollie’s face is appearing in the gap. “Is now a bad time?” he asks softly, then blanches when he sees Max laying across the couch, still tossing the rubber band ball around.
For some reason Max grins even wider.
“No, come in, Ollie,” Charles says. He pushes his glasses up, rubbing the pressure point between his eyebrows. “What is it?”
The sheaf of papers in Ollie’s hands apparently forgotten, he takes a crisp step toward Max. “Commander, sir.”
“He’s off duty,” Charles tells him. “Actually, he’s not even supposed to be in here.”
“You can just call me Max,” Max says, ignoring him. “Nice to meet you. Ollie, was it?”
“Yes, sir, Oliver Bearman. I’m a cadet with the Faenza Academy.”
“Faenza,” Max repeats, shooting Charles a warm look. Charles ignores him.
Ollie hesitates, shooting Charles a look. “It’s…well, it’s an honor. Charles, Oscar thinks he found the issue with Item 46.”
Charles grimaces. “Ah.”
“What’s item 46?” Max pipes up.
“Confidential,” Charles says with an eye roll.
“Even to me?”
“Yes, even to you.” Switching to Dutch, he adds, “I’ll come find you tomorrow. We should spar.”
“Fine,” Max answers. He gets to his feet, brushing imaginary dust off his jeans before tossing the rubber band ball back onto Charles’ desk. It knocks his cup of pens over; Charles glares. “You owe me lunch. I haven’t forgotten. I want Thai food.”
“Not Bangkok Bistro. We went last week.”
“Fine, somewhere else, but I want pad see ew. Ollie,” he adds in English, “lovely to meet you.”
“Thank you. You too, sir.”
“Don’t let Charles give you any shit, okay?” And then he slips around the doorway and is gone before Charles can even come up with a suitable insult.
#writing tag#pacrim au#the era of this fic where charles is working in the lab is SOOO important to meeeeee
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Like Everybody Else - daniel seavey imagine
a/n: I hope you like this, i didn’t want to make it too sad lol. Also, kinda random but how many of you use :), :( or :/ in texts? cos I do. Let me know what you think.
Song: Lennon Stella, Like Everybody Else
Run fast, run away, run straight into the loneliness
It isn't only home I miss
“How's tour?” Y/n asked excitedly, taking a seat on the cushioned floor next to Anna.
Daniel smiled gently, “It’s...great.” Daniel spoke gingerly. “It would be so much better if you were with me” He continued easily.
“Aww, Dani” Y/n’s cheeks flushed bright pink at his sweet words, and she giggled timidly.
“Aww, you two are just the cutest” Anna said sarcastically as she rolled her eyes. Him and Y/n chuckled lightly on opposite ends of the FaceTime call.
“How are you two doing then?” Daniel asked with a tight smile.
“We’re doing great! Keri’s gonna take us snowboarding tomorrow with your family!” Y/n spoke positively. Daniel’s eyes lingered fondly on Y/n’s. He happily relished in the feeling of love that played in her toothy smile and soft gaze.
Daniel’s blurry, muddled mind cleared as memories of past family adventures emerged at the sight of innocent kids playing in the distant snow from out the window. The snow fell as gracefully as feathers.
Daniel turned back to his phone after what seemed like ages. “That’s great. I’m glad you’re having so much fun.” He said quietly. “I miss you guys so much.” He breathed, his voice slightly wavering. The girls didn’t notice the slight sadness etched in his voice. He rushed to end the call, not wanting to fall apart in front of them. “I gotta go. I love you guys!” He rushed out before hanging up. He tossed his phone to the edge of his bunk and set his face in his hands morosely.
Like the night all my friends got together
Heard about it afterwards
Didn't think was gunna hurt so much
Daniel trudged out of the interview room tiredly. His bandmates followed close behind with faces full of energy and voices dripping in excitement. The boys’ brand-new freedom allowed for tons of new adventures in the unexplored town and while the other guys almost sprinted out of the building, Daniel wanted nothing more than to be alone with his thoughts. He pulled out his phone from his back pocket and tapped Y/n’s name on messages nearly unknowingly, like it was muscle memory. “Daniel, come on, we’re waiting outside.” Jonah called gently from a few paces away. Daniel lifted his gaze and let a small smile play on his lips as he spoke. “Yeah, just a sec.”
“Hi” He typed quickly, shuffling his feet slowly toward the elevator. His screen illuminated after a few seconds.
“Hey:)” Y/n responded. Daniel’s tense body relaxed at the simple message from his girlfriend, and he let the corners of his lips pull upwards to form a faint smile.
“What you up to?” He continued. A moment later he received a photo from Y/n and opened his hesitantly. The image loaded to reveal Y/n with a couple other friends of theirs. The dark atmosphere sparked his memory and he remembered Oscar’s birthday party. Their happy faces shone bright even in the nearly non-existent light of the club. Daniel’s smile faltered at the sight of them and he couldn’t help but feel a great amount of envy swallow his mood. He wanted them to be happy, but he wanted to be happy too.
“Daniel,” Jonah whispered sharply again. It was only at that moment that Daniel realised he had barely moved from his initial spot, and he chuckled lightly at his friend’s serious expression. He jogged over. “What’s got you so glum?” Jonah asked teasingly as they headed into the empty elevator. He turned back to see Daniel truthfully upset and his expression quickly broke. “What’s up, man?” He asked earnestly, setting a comforting hand on Daniel’s back.
“Y/n...and the others...” Daniel said simply, dropping his gaze to his pink sneakers.
Jonah looked a little bewildered. He narrowed his eyes, “What? What do you mean? Did they do something?” He rushed out.
“D-don’t worry about it.” Daniel dismissed with a gentle shrug. He averted his gaze to the sign above the door and watched it light up silently as they reached their floor.
Why if I'm doin' so well
Did I build a wall between me and the world?
Daniel was sitting up on his bunk bed, leaning against his single pillow with his legs stretched out and ankles crossed lightly. He was still dressed in his outfit - too tired of even changing into something comfier. He stared blankly at his Instagram timeline on his phone, scrolling mindlessly through photos etched with fun and adventure. The high, creaking noise of the door swinging open shot Daniel out of his faint trance, and he looked up expectantly.
“Hey, the guys and I are going out to dinner? Wanna come?” Zach asked, making his way further into the narrow hallway of the tour bus. Daniel shook his head lightly.
“Nah it’s fine” He muttered as casually as he could. He felt a swell of emotion wash over him unexpectedly.
“You sure? You said no last week as well.” Zach asked, peeking a brow at the boy across from him.
“Yep” Daniel said quickly, swallowing back the lump in his throat. He pulled a tight smile, trying to ignore the uneasy feeling in his stomach. Zach nodded gently, turning away towards the door, but just before he came to it, he looked over his shoulder one last time to Daniel. He let his eyes linger on his downcast eyes lit up by the screen in front of him before walking forwards and shutting the door behind him.
Daniel sighed in relief and dragged his palm over his face tiredly. He kicked off his shoes and watched them drop carelessly on the floor. He tugged the throw blanket at the foot of his bed closer and pulled it right up to his chin tightly, letting his eyes linger to the dark night sky aglow with city lights. He glanced at his cheery bandmates sauntering out of the bus and onto the footpaths with nothing but joy in their step. Daniel wanted to feel like them too, more than they could ever comprehend.
Been drilled in my head forever, be better, turns out
I'm just like everybody else
Daniel burnt the midnight oil often. He usually found daytime band rehearsals too overwhelming to focus. His gentle piano playing broke the serene silence of the night, coaxing a beautiful, soothing melody until it was interrupted by the wrong note, caused by the slip of his finger. Daniel huffed deeply, resting his head aggressively on the keys in annoyance. It produced a muddled sequence of notes and Daniel felt the vibrations buzz through his head. He lifted his head, slouching back on the bench. He finally felt a great swell of anxiety drown his mind. The previous, harsh critiques from Randy reverberated in his head continuously and he couldn’t get his mind to stop spinning with self-doubt.
Daniel sighed deeply. He bit his lip in an attempt to stop his frustrated tears from pouring down his face. He looked around the empty and gloomy rehearsal room and let it all go. He hid his face in his hands tiredly while he cried. The dull ache in his heart was all he could think about, but he merely let himself feel the pain he thought he deserved. A few long minutes later, when Daniel thought he’d cried all the tears left in him, Daniel lifted himself up stiffly from the piano. He rubbed his temples gently before flipping the sheet music to the next page and continuing.
Don't even go near a mirror, it’ll kill ya
Trust me, you don't wanna see yourself
“Guys” A crew member came back into the dressing room. “You’ve got three minutes.” He reminded before rushing out into the hallway again. Daniel turned back to the mirror as he adjusted the cuffs of his dress shirt again.
“Does this look alright to you?” He turned to Jack, pointing to his black and white suit.
“Yeah,” Jack laughed lightly. “It’s fire...for the five - hundredth time” He joked, “why?”
“Oh, I don’t know.” Daniel started, glaring over his shoulder to Jack again. “Maybe it’s ‘cause we’re going to a red-carpet event.” He said nervously.
“Don’t sweat it, dude. We’ll be fine.” Jack reassured.
Daniel nodded. His gaze persisted on the smudged, full length mirror standing in front of him. In truth, it wasn’t just his appearance he was worried about. It was also his talent. The thought of being in the presence of A list celebrities and artists he greatly admired sent everlasting shivers down Daniel’s spine.
Fuck the noise, It's too late, It's the choices
Now I don't even wanna be someone
“Dani.” Jack called gently from across the table. “Daniel.” He said blankly after a moment.
“Daniel.” Zach’s hand slammed hard on the table causing a loud thump to echo through Daniel’s whirling mind and he looked up from his downcast gaze to his bandmates cluelessly. “It’s your turn” Zach said, gesturing to the Monopoly board set on the table.
The dim light of the lamp casted a warm glow to the lounge room. Daniel sat lazily with his legs tossed on the coffee table. Daniel’s face broke into a soft smile. “Oh right. Sorry.” He chuckled. He leaned over, picked up the dice in one hand and rolled it.
“You okay, man?” Corbyn inquired honestly, eyes flickering to Daniel.
“Yeah...you haven’t really…been here tonight.” Jonah asked carefully. His face was brimming with concern. Daniel’s gentle smile faltered, and his eyes wandered nervously before landing on his bandmates again.
“Y-yeah, yeah. I’m just tired.” He shrugged hesitantly, “don’t worry,” he added. He dropped his gaze back to the board and rested his chin in his hands.
That's nice, champagne, what a shame, It doesn't work on me
So don't go wastin' your money
Everybody in this room is too hard, too pretty, I'm tired
I just wanna be nobody
Daniel sat awkwardly at a circular table in the fancy, high end restaurant. The cacophony of polite chatter and clattering of fine cutlery filled his ears and he could barely focus on his own table’s conversation. “Daniel.” The sound of his name being called had Daniel diverting his stare to the older man opposite him. His sharp, strong features only complemented his staid personality.
“Yes.” Daniel spoke as elegantly as he could. He tried not to let his nervousness peak through his calm facade and he wiped his slightly dampened forehead with the back of his hand.
“Your managers over here tell me you’re quite the song writer.” He stated the faintest hint of a smile present on his lips. Daniel’s face flushed with nervousness. He cleared his throat with a slight chuckle and dropped his fork onto his plate.
“I try my best.” He grinned. “But yea...I really enjoy it.” He finished shyly. He washed down the tension flooding his body with a sip of his champagne.
The older man glared at Daniel before honestly saying, “you know, this opportunity is extremely selective. We only pick one applicant a year.” Daniel glanced at him expectantly, trying to ignore the tightening twist of his stomach. “There are many artists that enjoy writing.” He finished.
“I understand-” Daniel tried but he was interrupted.
“He’s a great writer, take it from me” Randy intervened swiftly. He shot a glare to Daniel before leaning his elbows on the table to converse gravely with the other man. Daniel reluctantly focused back on his nearly full plate - he barely ate because of his anxiety. He shoved a forkful of food into his mouth.
What made me think I was special? I'm not special
Turns out I'm like everybody else
This song sounds exactly like 5SOS
They are just a like 1D
Their music sounds the same
Daniel typically took criticism with grace and modestly, but this time was different. The rims of his eyes were red from glaring at Instagram comments under his music announcement post for almost one hour straight. His fingers readily hovered over the word ‘reply’, prepared to sincerely explain how different his band’s songs were and how much work went into producing them.
In the back of his mind, Daniel couldn’t help but believe their hurtful words. He set down his phone on the floor to the side in an effort to stop his mind from whirling out of control. He drew up his knees in embarrassment and hid his face against them tiredly. He let his anxiety-stricken face relax and tears flowed gently down his face.
#daniel seavey#daniel seavey imagines#daniel seavey fanfic#why don't we#why dont we imagines#why dont we fanfic#zach herron#corbyn besson#jack avery#jonah marais#the ending's a bit lazy lol
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“WANNABE.” T.H. Imagine.
And what if after years of chasing each other like a cat and mouse, you and Tom started to wonder if you wanna be something else in each other's life?
A/N: I am posting a one shot after weeks of writer's block. I hope you like it. It's 9:30 pm in Peru and it's still April 28, so it's still my birthday! Give it a try. Pleaseeeeee! And yes, I borrowed a scene from Mean Girls (Because I loveeee that movie)
“Hello God, it's me again, (y/n). What's up? I know we haven't talked much lately, but, hey, listen, I have a favor to ask you- I have behaved well, I haven’t gotten drunk at any crazy party of any Hollywood star and I haven't accepted drugs, ever: I'm afraid my grandmother will appear in my room as a ghost and pull my blankets in the middle of the night, plus, I haven't make out with any Stone-cold Hollywood hottie, and trust me, I've had more than one chance. Anyway, about the favor–”
"Yes, but (y/n)'s grandfather invited us to his birthday party..."
Tom's voice startles you and cuts off your internal dialogue, turning you back to the reality.
It’s 6 am. The sun shines in the clear sky, and you are on a flight back to England in a luxury privet jet that is about to arrive at the airport, while Haz, Harry, Tom and you are sitting in comfortable velvety seats, with the view of morning sky on your left side.
The exciting memory of your last recording still seemed to run through your veins, too exciting to let you sleep. Because that was the end, the goodbye after incredible months. All your efforts from the past months were hidden behind that last performance that looked like a fantasy, except for the kiss, ugh, you had to erase it from your mind. But now, you're going back home, ready to take a break away from the set-up bridge and blue and green backgrounds, away from the makeup artists who gave your face the final touches of the magic of Hollywood, far from the suit of a superhero who had just won her last battle and who got the cute boy, Peter Parker.
But not far away from Tom Holland.
Because evil takes a human form in Tom Holland, your lifelong neighbor.
How do you even begin to explain Tom Ho– Stop, people say that if you pronounce his name 3 times a curse falls on you.
But fans say Tom Holland is flawless, you heard his curly hair is insured for 10,000 dollars, his favorite movie is “Spider-man Homecoming”, duh, and very soon, “far from home”. One time he met Robert Downey Jr. in his own village and he started hyperventilating, and once he threw a fan's phone on the floor and she said it was awesome.
"Please don't tell me you're going to his birthday party." You complain, because you can't help it.
"Would that bother you that much, darling?" Tom smiles, tilting his head back so that his tender smile fits perfectly with his tender face. “Then of course I will go. Also, your grandfather still has the hope his granddaughter would get a man like me.”
"Ew. Why would my dear grandfather want me to be with someone who enjoys keeping a frog in his mouth?" You ask, earning yourself an Oscar for best actress with the innocence you exude and the seriousness you manage to put on your face, even when Tom's eyes narrow from the attack you just launched, while, enjoying the show, his friend and his younger brother laughs, shaking heads with a familiar expression on their faces because of the familiar discussion between you and him that happens, every two or three days. "Seriously, Tom, give the poor Henry a break."
"Henry?" Tom asks with real confusion, his accent thick, while the other male voices ask it in a collective whisper too.
"I named your frog Henry, hope it doesn't bother you." And you laugh, victorious to feel how Tom exhales the air through his nose.
“Seriously, (y/n), when will you confess that you are in love with me? You don't have to be so shy, darling.” Tom laughs too, using his finger to tap your nose, because he knows perfectly well that you don't like that, just as you don't like being called darling anymore. “Ray is a wise man, you should listen to your grandfather."
"Yes, if you like skinny ones."
"I'm not skinny. I have the perfect body.” Tom defends himself.
"For now, but in a couple of years you will named your big belly as your dad does after drinking with mine." You laugh like a little girl because you love Dom, because he's warm and funny, because he loves his wife and children, and because of how funny he is when he and your dad have had too much alcohol, like the time they started a cartwheel contest in the middle of the street. "Who's there? It's Dom Junior.”
"Shut up! My dad is still sexy!” A heavy silence falls over the small place as everyone looks at Tom with furrowed brows and true confusion, but that's when he realizes the choice of words he used to refer to his dad. "That's not what I meant!"
You raise your hands in a sign of peace, your gaze avoiding his as you stop yourself from laughing and mocking him.
"That's so wrong, Tom." Harry says, with a certain bittersweet taste on the tip of his tongue. "Now because of you I won't be able to see dad's belly the same way."
Harry and Haz chuckle at Dom's expense.
But when the jet landed smoothly on the headlight-lit runway in the early hours of the morning, the heavy hours from the past months feels now as if they weighed the same as a feather, pain and exhausting sleepless nights disappeared in the blink of an eye, and now, there is no oceans that could make you feel far away, because in the end, you always came back home.
"Besides..." You say to finish that conversation, your backpack on your shoulder before making the victory path towards the stairs to get off the plane. "I would like a boyfriend who can grow a mustache, not like the failed attempt on your face. Thank you very much."
"Hey!" Tom frowns as you pass him by, and his voice rises even higher than it already is. "My doctor says it's just a hormone problem."
"Damn, bro..." Harry laughs as he puts an arm around Tom's shoulder, giving him a brotherly hug before walking out to the car waiting outside. “(Y/n) will be hard to catch, you know? But try it, maybe you will make it in this century."
Harry laughs, and then, walks out of the plane.
"What does that mean?" Tom asks Harrison, who is still waiting by his side.
"I think he meant that you are in love with (y/n), but you haven't noticed it yet."
Harrison chuckles, but after patting Tom on the back, he rushes to place a hand on his best friend's shoulder to stop him.
“Hey, mate… you, uh…” Tom's eyes soften, almost to the point where his brown eyes resembled the gaze of a little 5-year-old boy, sad, and lost. “You haven't told anyone why we came back, right?”
“Of course not.” Harrison says, and his gaze smiles just like his lips. “Don’t worry about anything, okay? We are home, you are home. You can take the time you need to rest.”
Tom nods, unsure, but tries to be strong as they both get off the plane.
The gray autumn clouds hang with invisible strings in the sky as Tom Holland, actor, handsome, wealthy, and the loneliest person in the world, releases a deep breath that is lost among the sounds of the world, because his world is no longer sparkling or velvety thanks to the cameras or a red carpet, and while his new movie is a box office hit that never in his best dreams he would have imagined, something wasn't right for him.
That’s why he is back home.
The car ride is silent as some sleep, except you and Tom, because your eyes seem to recognize the streets you grew up in, because your hearts recognize your home. But for Tom, he recalls tilting his body to the left and a camera captured his best actor pose a week ago, but since then, his body has felt null, as if floating in the air and no longer responding to his orders. He was crystal clear, but a few people seemed to see clearly through him. Tom tries to convince himself that the tickling in his hands is his body's response to tiredness and not his anxiety, because he suffers it too, but he feels that something is eating his soul.
"Are you okay, Tom?"
Among a sea of people, Tom Holland has always pretended to be an interesting person, but now, he takes a deep breath and looks at you, nervous, lost in the middle of that huge world, but you, looking back at him gives him peace, because he doesn’t feel alone anymore.
What did you think? That someone is interested in knowing if you are really okay? Of course they care, right?
“Of course, darling.” Tom smiles, as if in a snap of fingers, everything is fine.
But there, he catches a movement of yours.
You tilt your head to the side, like his beloved Tessa when she is curious about something, but he doesn't say it out loud because you would take it the wrong way, but the movement in slow motion worthy of a Hollywood scene and the serenity of your gaze makes Tom hold his breath, that breath that previously didn't fit his chest with so many problems that he carried inside.
But suddenly he can breathe again, finally.
“Okay.”
The minutes pass until the car stops on a street that you two recognize perfectly. When everyone is out, the car leaves, but because your favorite boys are about to leave, too, you hug everyone as the promise to celebrate Harrison's birthday next week hangs in the air. You love them so much, because they are beautiful people who helped you to save yourself from the storms of doubts and fears, each of them in their own charming way, and for that, you were grateful.
"My friend Danielle is coming so I would like you to meet her, Haz." You chuckle adorably before leaving, noting that Harrison's smile is as real as his desire to meet her.
"I'm looking forward to it, darling."
"Wait, why he can call you darling?" Tom says, and for a second, you see a sparkle in the brightness of his eyes, but as the door of his house opens and his beloved Tessa runs to receive him, the confusion disperses like the morning haze.
"There she is the only darling you will ever get, Thomas."
And the moment you turn around, because the door of your house opens too, you lose sight of Tom's honest smile and the question that he hides behind his sweet eyes. Was he in love with you all this time without realizing it? And what if he wanna be your boyfriend?
Oh, right. The favor that you were going to ask God for? To get you a boyfriend, a cute one, a hot one... maybe like Tom. Weird, isn't it?
Tag list: @galaxies-of-the-heart
#tom holland imagine#tom holland fanfic#tom holland fluff#tom holland spiderman#tom holland#tom holland x reader#tom holland x you#tom holland x y/n
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The Night Comes Down || Brian May x fem!Reader x Roger Taylor
summary || one of the first rules you’d ever made with brian, your friends-with-benefits, eight months ago, was that anyone could back out of the arrangement at any time, for whatever reason, and then everything would go back to normal. back to how it was. and that’s fine. you have no problem with that. you’re fine. you’re so fine. it’s... fine.
rating || no smut, but some implied explicit content. warning: there is a brief scene where reader is being heavily pressured into kissing someone at a party.
word count || 9.7k
author’s notes || all good things must come to an end! so i’ve been working on this series for over a year. how did that even happen?? anyway yes this is the end of the try series. no it’s not a happy ending. i debated back and forth for a long time whether to end the series or not, but it felt too weird not to. and i couldn’t figure out any reasonable ‘happy’ way for it to end. a big big big thank you to everyone who’s stuck with me for this entire journey, or part of this journey, or even if you’re just tuning in now - thank you! and if you’re still somehow invested in this little ’verse after all this time, don’t abandon me just yet 👀 p.s. i think i’ve ironed out most of the timeline issues but don’t look too closely. this series is not my proudest in terms of continuity
masterlist
tag list: @the-huttslayer @scorpiogemini @redspecialty @supersonicfreddie @killer-queen-xo @a-night-at-the-0pera @rogerscupboard
Part of you had known it was inevitable. Another part of you liked to pretend that it wasn’t. But it was.
It still felt like it had come out of nowhere, though.
Brian was watching you cautiously, adjusting the grip on his laptop and workbook. “Did you… want to say anything, or…?”
“Um…” You blinked a couple times, and shook your head. “Uh, no, I’m just… surprised?”
“I feel like I’ve mentioned her a few times,” Brian said.
“Once or twice, maybe,” you said. “I didn’t know that you and her…”
“Yeah.” Brian scratched the back of his neck. “Yeah, we hooked up, like, two weeks ago, and then again a few nights ago, and we’ve been talking every day, so.”
“Oh.” It sounded twisted, wonky, but you forced a smile onto your face, wondering why you felt so… uncomfortable hearing about this. “That’s great. And you like her?”
“Yeah, I really do,” Brian said, and his voice sounded warm, and he had a little smile on his face, and something ugly and strange twisted in your gut. “And I want to take her on an actual date, but obviously, I’d feel a bit weird about it if I still had, y’know. A, uh, side arrangement. But you’re all right?”
“Of course,” you said brightly. Side arrangement. “Yeah, why wouldn’t I be? That’s great, Brian, really. I’m – really glad you’ve found someone.”
“It’s been a while, that’s for sure,” Brian said with a chuckle.
“Are you going to tell Rog?”
Brian frowned a little. “Um, no, I don’t think that’s necessary. I never had – anything with him. And he’s already met Dani, so.”
“Oh!” Ah, Christ, that had sounded dreadful, even to your own ears. “Where– Where’d he meet her?”
“The other day.” Brian gave you a sheepish smile. “The morning after. She ran into him in the kitchen.”
You pushed a strained laugh out of you. “Oh, right, yeah, great.”
Brian chuckled as well. “Yeah, it was a little awkward, but what can you do, right?”
You swallowed, and nodded. Your face hurt from smiling.
“You’ll love her,” Brian said. “She’s wonderful. She’s so smart, and funny, and she’s so pretty. I mean, so pretty. Absolutely beautiful. Completely knocked my socks off when I first saw her. Can’t believe she fancies me.”
“Great,” you said. You were saying great too much. “She sounds–” Don’t. “–so great.”
“She is.” Brian beamed. “You’ll have to meet her soon.”
“I’m sure I will,” you said.
“Yeah, I’m sure,” Brian said. He sighed happily. “Well, I should head off.”
“Yeah, course,” you said. “Me too.”
“I’ll message you,” Brian said. “We can arrange a dinner at the flat or something.”
“Can’t wait!”
Brian smiled, nodded in satisfaction, and then said, “All right, see you later.”
“Bye!” You turned around and hurried away, in the opposite direction you needed to go.
Hmm. Huh. Right. Okay. So. Brian just. He just.
You went to the food court and sat down at the first available seat you could find.
You took out your phone and immediately went to message Veronica.
Brian just
Your thumbs paused.
He just what? He just found someone he wanted to date, and ended his arrangement with you. On paper, not that big of a deal. It was part of the unwritten contract of it all: any person was allowed to end things for whatever reason, and there would be no consequences. A rule you had written yourself, all those months ago.
Side arrangement. Side piece. Dirty secret. Not as good as the real thing. Not as funny or smart or pretty or wonderful or beautiful as Danielle.
You froze. Whoa, where had that come from?
You weren’t jealous. You couldn’t have been jealous. You’d never wanted to date Brian. You still didn’t want to date Brian. You didn’t have a crush on him, and you never had. Brian didn’t break up with you.
So what the everloving fuck was going on in your head right now?
You put your phone away. Nope, you couldn’t go crying to Veronica for no damn reason. This had always been bound to happen, and now it had, so you just needed an hour or so to process it, and then things would be fine. You’d go back to normal.
-
Your idea of ‘normal’ seemed to greatly differ from Brian’s.
You didn’t hear from him for a week. Whereas before you’d talked every other day, he went almost totally radio silent. Every meme or message you sent was either seen and ignored, or responded to with a vague Haha or a thumbs-up.
You met up with Roger on your usual catch-up night, but you hadn’t gotten very far into anything before he stopped and said, “You’re not really feeling it, are you?”
You made a face. “Sorry.”
“It’s fine.” He passed your shirt to you, and he fetched his from the floor and slipped it on. “So… Brian has a date tomorrow night.”
You frowned. “He does?”
Roger nodded. “Yeah, he didn’t tell you about it?”
You looked down at your hands. “Um, no. He didn’t. I haven’t heard much from him, actually. After he… ended… things.”
“Whoa,” Roger said, climbing onto the bed. “Wait, really? With you?”
You nodded, and suddenly felt your throat close over. But you were not going to fucking cry about it, Jesus Christ. You swallowed it down, and gave Roger a mild look of interest. “Yeah. I didn’t even know he liked Dani, and then I ran into him at uni last week, and he just sort of said, ‘Hey, while I’m here,’ and then that was it. But I didn’t know the date was tomorrow night. He didn’t tell me.”
“I’m sure he was just distracted,” Roger said. “He gets like that with a girl he likes.” He shook his head. “Damn, he must be serious about her.”
“Yeah, must be.”
Roger paused, and then said, “Are you… okay?”
You shrugged. “Yeah, of course I am. Why wouldn’t I be?”
“I dunno, it’s a pretty big… thing to have ended.”
“No, I’m fine,” you said lightly, giving him a smile. “We’re still friends. And I’ve still got you, right?”
“Yeah,” Roger said, although he didn’t sound entirely convinced.
“Yeah. So I’m good.” You sighed, willing away all the gross mess of emotions you were feeling. “I’m not really feeling going all the way, but making out sounds good, if you’re down.”
Luckily, that immediately distracted Roger, and he didn’t ask any further questions. And you poured everything you had into your kisses, hoping it would distract you, too.
-
You were hoping things would settle down for you, emotionally, over the next two weeks or so.
But that didn’t happen. Everything grew to be so much worse. Exponentially. You didn’t know whether you hated Brian, or Dani, or hated them as a couple, or if you just hated yourself. You couldn’t bear to be in the same room as the two of them, and you hadn’t spoken more than ten words to Dani. The thought of trying to be friends with her turned your stomach. She wasn’t particularly annoying, and she wasn’t a bad person in any way, but just something about her face and her voice and her fucking presence in your life just infuriated you.
You couldn’t get the idea out of your head that she looked like a mouse. Or a rat. Small pointy nose, big dark eyes, slight buck teeth. She was curvy, and at least a foot shorter than Brian, although it was hard to tell with the heels and platforms she always wore. Her hair was browny-blonde and long and thick, and she wore it slicked back in a pony, like Ariana Grande. Her ears glittered with delicate piercings. She liked to draw on freckles.
She was pretty. For a rat.
You did your best to hide how you felt about her. You thought you should’ve gotten a freaking Oscar for how well you hid it. At least from Brian. On the rare occasion that Dani wasn’t by his side, you let him talk about her, and did your best to seem encouraging.
There was a part of you – a bigger part than you wanted to admit – that believed they were going to break up soon enough. Then things could go back to normal, and this weird hiccup could be forgotten.
But they didn’t break up. They stayed together.
And so you ended up ranting about it all to Veronica. You knew you were really going on about it, and somehow you kept finding things to say about the situation when you knew there was nothing really more to say. Veronica listened, to a degree. But her advice was sensible and responsible and mature and you really didn’t feel like being any of those things. You wanted to throw a goddamn tantrum.
So you turned to Roger. Thank God for his high sex drive.
He wasn’t completely clueless. You had an air of desperation about you that you knew he could sense, and knowing that was almost enough to make you draw away from him, too.
Almost. But he always took such good care of you. It was selfish to keep asking him to meet up, but you felt like you would explode if you didn’t.
About a month after Brian and Dani had started dating, you and Roger were making out on the couch. It was rough, as sex frequently had been these past few weeks, and Roger’s grip on your waist was bruising as you rocked against him. Things were moments away from moving to the bedroom, when the front door opened unexpectedly.
You quickly looked up, a deer in headlights, and your stomach dropped.
“Oh, sorry,” Brian mumbled, ducking his head.
“No, it’s fine,” you said, and you’d tried to go for nonchalant, but your voice came out too sharp.
Roger tilted his head back. “Hi.”
“Hi,” Brian said. You watched as he kicked his shoes off and chucked his keys on the kitchen table.
“Sorry,” he said again, shooting you a quick glance. “I’ll just, uh…”
He hurried to his room.
There you were, looking already thoroughly debauched, on his couch, in Roger’s lap, and Brian had just ducked his head and ran.
You stared after him, your heart twisting around itself. He hadn’t even… He didn’t…
Once, he would have taken one look at you and pounced on you. He would’ve begged to kiss you, would’ve torn your clothes off.
Now, he acted like he’d walked in on Roger having a one-night stand with some girl he’d picked up at a bar. He acted like he’d never even been attracted to you at all.
Was it really so easy for him to move on? Were you really that forgettable?
“You all right?” Roger asked, his thumb touching your bottom lip.
You snapped to look at him. Shit, how much had you let on? “Yeah,” you said with a smile. “Just lost in my thoughts, nothing important.”
“You sure?” Roger asked.
You bit your lip and nodded. “Mm-hm. How about you take me to your room and fuck all those stupid little thoughts out of me?”
Roger paused for a moment, like he wanted to say something more, but your tongue darted out, lapping at the pad of his thumb, and you kept your eyes on his as you licked his thumb into your mouth. You watched, half excited, half relieved, as his eyes glazed over, his gaze fixated on your lips around his thumb.
It sickened you to even think about it, but you definitely had a little voice in the back of your head that hoped Brian could hear Roger fucking you.
-
“We should hang out,” you said to Brian. Just over a month, now. Final exams were breathing down everyone’s necks. It didn’t help your situation. “I feel like I never get to see you anymore. You’re with your girlfriend all the time.”
You’d run into him at uni. That was almost the only way you got to see him these days. And he no longer hugged you hello or goodbye, just kept a firm, amicable amount of distance between you.
He didn’t often look you in the eye these days, either. He shifted about whenever you talked, like he wanted to be somewhere else.
“Mm, yeah, maybe,” he said.
You swallowed down the hurt. “How about a movie night? Or we could just hang out, just the two of us.”
“Um.” Brian scratched his nose. “I’m pretty busy at the moment. Maybe we could do a group thing? That’d be fun. Me and Dani, John and Veronica, you and Rog.”
You frowned. “Me and Rog?”
“Yeah.”
“We’re not together.”
Brian shrugged. “I just thought– Well, I think it’d be nice. You two suit each other.”
“We don’t want to be a couple, Brian. What are you on about?”
“I just think it’d be good for you, that’s all. Being in a relationship is, well, really nice, and I think maybe you and Rog should at least give it a go.”
You were gobsmacked. You wanted to throw something, yell a stern reminder of, Hey, are you fucking stupid? Do you not remember the past eight months of our lives where you seemed perfectly content to not be in a relationship? Remember how many times the two of us were hounded by our friends about dating? You fucking hypocrite.
But you didn’t say any of that. There was an unspoken rule that neither of you ever brought up your old arrangement. It was as if it had never existed.
Most of the time, it seemed like Brian wished it hadn’t. Like it was some embarrassing secret.
“Well, we don’t want that, so you can mind your own business,” you said. “And where does Freddie fit into your little equation, anyway?”
Brian shrugged again. “He could bring a date along as well, I don’t know.”
“We’re not going on a– a quadruple date. Jesus.”
“Just an idea,” Brian muttered.
“You can still hang out with friends without your girlfriend, you know.”
Brian sighed. “Okay. Well.”
You sighed as well, gathering yourself. You tried again. “What about a party, or something? We haven’t been to a party in forever.”
Brian hesitated. “Well, one of Dani’s friends is having a party this weekend.”
Not exactly what you’d meant. “Maybe a little group of us could go?” you suggested. “If Dani’s all right with it? That could be fun.”
Brian nodded to himself. “Yeah,” he said mildly. “Yeah, that could work. I’ll ask her.”
“Great,” you said with a smile that you most certainly had to force onto your face. You began making a quick retreat, not waiting for him to formulate an excuse. “Text me, okay?”
“Yep,” he said, and you could tell he was already forgetting about it completely.
But, to your surprise, that weekend, you got a text from him. Dani said it’s all right if you and the others want to come along.
Your lip curled. It hardly sounded like Brian wanted any of you there. great, you replied. pres at yours?
I’ll actually be having pres at Lachlan’s, Brian sent. He’s one of Dani’s friends. But I’ll send you the details of the party and I’ll see you there.
But no one else wanted to come.
“No thanks,” Roger grumbled. “I’ve met some of Dani’s friends. They’re all complete wankers.”
“But I don’t want to go alone,” you whined.
“Ask Freddie. He’s always down for a good time.”
-
I can’t darling, Freddie texted. work early the next day. they said if I turn up hung-over or still drunk one more time they’ll fire me
u don’t have to get that drunk, you replied hopefully. just drink a bit and then go home early
then what would be the point of going lol?? Freddie sent.
-
“Sorry,” Veronica said. “Studying.”
You sulked. “You can’t afford to take a break just for a couple hours?”
“No. And, honestly, I don’t want to enable whatever thing you’re going through right now. I think getting drunk around Brian would be a bad idea.”
“I’ll be fine,” you said. “I just want an excuse to hang out as friends, okay? That’s all. It’s not enabling, it’s supporting.”
Veronica made a sound that told you she disagreed. You huffed and gave up. What did she know, anyway?
-
“Hey, Dea–”
“I’m not going to that party tonight,” John cut in smoothly, not even looking up from his textbook.
“But–”
“I’d rather sever my own foot.” He glanced up at you, giving you an apologetic half-smile. “Sorry. I just can’t stand being around Brian and Dani. They’re insufferable.”
At least that you could agree with.
-
everyone else is busy, you texted Brian. You bit your lip, debating whether to ask, but, damn it, fuck it all – can I come to lachlan’s pres and go with u guys?
It took him two hours to reply. Yeah, sure.
You felt sick. This was a bad idea.
It was by far too much trouble for what it was worth to get to Lachlan’s. You were terrified of turning up before Brian and Dani, so you arrived two and a half hours after when you were meant to be there.
That was better. It was easier to rock up when everyone was already pissed.
And they were very much pissed. Lachlan answered the door. He was tall and stocky, with brown hair and blue eyes. The sort of guy who looked like he’d played some kind of contact sport in high school, probably football, but now didn’t have a regular training schedule, and so was slowly losing the muscle he’d once had, replacing it with beer and burgers. The sort of guy who’d lose all of his hair by the time he was thirty-five, and get married so he’d have someone to get his beers for him when he was watching the game with the boys. The sort of guy who wanted kids because he liked the thought of telling people he had a couple of boys, rather than actually wanting to be a father.
Or maybe you were making a snap-judgement.
You introduced yourself, and he gave you a lopsided, skeezy grin, letting you into his place. “You here all on your own?” he asked.
Your shoulders tensed. “No,” you said. “I’m a friend of Brian’s. Dani’s new boyfriend.”
“Oh, yeah, sure, I know that. But you don’t have anyone to bring along with you?”
“Not tonight,” you said vaguely. “Busy schedules. Finals aren’t too far away, and all that.”
“Yeah, sick,” Lachlan said, looking you up and down. “Well.” He gestured with his beer to the crowd. “Make yourself at home.” He shot you another grin that made your hands grow clammy. “I’m glad Dani brought you along. Can’t wait to get to know you.”
You gave him an uneasy smile in return, and frantically looked for Brian and Dani. You found them – Dani was sitting on Brian’s lap, yuck – and fled from Lachlan.
“Hi,” you said.
“Oh, hey,” Brian said, and you could tell right off the bat he’d had a bit to drink already. His hand was splayed over Dani’s thigh, holding her to him, and you couldn’t bear to look at it. “Thought you weren’t gonna come.”
“I’m just late,” you said. “Hello, Dani.”
She gave you a polite smile, but didn’t try to engage in conversation.
Brian didn’t even notice. He squeezed Dani a little bit closer. “Well, you gonna drink?” he said.
Yes. Yes, you were. You held up your plastic bottle filled with Sprite and too much vodka. “Yep.”
Brian gave you a thumbs-up.
Dani turned to him. “Just need to go to the bathroom, baby,” she murmured, tapping his hand.
“All right, baby,” Brian murmured back, and you only just stopped yourself from making a face. The word baby sounded clunky, uncomfortable coming from Brian. “Be careful.”
Dani leant in for a kiss, and you turned away, uncapping your bottle and taking a decent swig, grimacing at the burn.
Brian didn’t like pet names. You knew he didn’t like pet names. And yet this ‘baby’ thing had sprung out of nowhere, and it drove you up the fucking wall.
You listened until the sound of Dani’s heels against the floorboards faded before you spoke. “‘Be careful’,” you muttered.
“What?” Brian said.
“She’s just walking to the toilet,” you said. “Not like she’s gonna get assaulted on the way.”
Brian looked mildly annoyed. “I just don’t want her to trip and fall over and hurt herself. She’s a lightweight, and she’s wearing heels. I’m just… trying to be a good boyfriend.”
You sighed. “Yeah, okay,” you said, not wanting to hear a word of it. You took another hefty swig of your drink. “I think I’ll, um, join the rest of the party.”
So much for hanging out with Brian. You wanted to be near him, wanted to talk to him, but you couldn’t bear it for more than five minutes.
You knew what it was – you wanted to talk to him how you used to. But you couldn’t do that anymore. Instead you had some weird, watered-down version of the Brian you knew.
You joined in half-heartedly with a few drinking games, but quickly discovered that you weren’t really in the mood for getting smashed anyway.
Brian and Dani stayed in their own little corner, giggling and whispering with each other, kissing and cuddling and being generally disgusting.
-
You didn’t even think they’d bother coming to the actual party. But they did, and the group of fifteen or so people in Lachlan’s sharehouse all staggered along the street for about ten minutes to get to the main event.
You’d managed to get along well enough with some of the girls, and Lachlan wouldn’t leave you alone, so you had no choice but to socialise. Which was good, in a way, because you lost Dani and Brian as soon as you walked into the party.
Not that you particularly liked the girls you were talking to. Everyone just had such a weird vibe, like they weren’t sure if they could be bothered to talk to you, but also felt obliged to make you feel welcome. They kept bursting into laughter and you had no idea why, and no one bothered to explain the jokes. But then they complimented your outfit and asked you how your day had been, and they listened with encouraging nods and wide eyes of interest when you answered. Until someone said something that they found more interesting, and then they turned away from you when you were halfway through a sentence. It was off-putting, to say the least; you couldn’t seem to find your footing.
Lachlan, however, was the icing on the cake. The sour, out-of-date icing on the stale cake. He flirted with you incessantly, either not picking up your clear signals that you weren’t interested, or just ignoring them. The others weren’t helping, either, egging the two of you on. A whole lot of wink-wink-nudge-nudge that you were not enjoying at all.
You should’ve just gone home. You didn’t know why you didn’t just leave.
But, for some reason, you stayed. Maybe you hoped that Brian would see your discomfort and come and talk to you – not that you’d seen him for the past hour – or that this strange group of people would want to talk with their friend Dani, and you’d be able to swoop in and catch up with Brian without Dani hanging around awkwardly.
Whatever it was, it was a stupid reason.
And then came truth or dare.
You didn’t want to play, but you were roped into it regardless. There was a rule, you found out, that you were allowed to back out of one truth or dare, and you had to drink if you did so – but only the once, so you had to choose wisely. Someone dared you to show everyone what underwear you were wearing.
Needless to say, you drank instead.
You could tell that no one was very impressed with any of the dares or questions you came up with, even though your friendship group loved your questions and dares. This group seemed to like the brainless shit – if it was gross, or sexual, or nasty in any way, they were all over it. Barely anyone chose ‘truth’.
Then it was Lachlan’s turn, and he turned to you. He grinned, and your stomach sank to the floor. “Dare you to kiss me,” he drawled, and the crowd gasped and ooh’d dramatically.
You didn’t even hesitate to snatch up your cider, but Lachlan quickly said, “You’ve already drunk, you can’t do it twice.”
“Well, I’m doing it twice,” you snapped, and took a swig.
You received jeers and boos for that, and Gina, the girl beside you, took your beer from your hand and said, “You can’t do that!”
“You gotta kiss me, that’s the rules,” Lachlan said above the sounds of everyone else.
“I don’t want to,” you said, your voice wavering.
“You have to,” said Savannah. “You have to, you have to, it’s the rules.”
“Come on,” said – whatever her fucking name was. “Stop being such a pussy, just get it over with.”
Lachlan was starting to look a bit pissed off by now. “Fucking hell, just come and kiss me,” he said. “Don’t be a bitch about it.”
Your heart was pounding in your chest, and you could feel your hands starting to shake. “Jesus – no, all right? I don’t want to,” you snapped.
The room felt too loud, too stuffy, too overwhelming.
“Lachlan, just think of something else,” you said.
“Okay, fine, whatever,” Gina complained. “Just do something else.”
“No, I gave you a dare already,” Lachlan said sourly. “It’s not even that big of a deal, like, I don’t even know what the problem is.”
“If she doesn’t want to-”
“That’s the fucking rules,” Lachlan said, throwing his hands in the air like you were the one being unreasonable. “Is that not the fucking rules? Goddamn.”
“Okay, then just kiss him already,” said whatever-the-fuck-her-name-was, waving you over. “Whatever, just hurry up.”
“I’m fucking bored with this shit already,” Savannah said. “Just kiss him or don’t kiss him, whatever. God, this party sucks.”
“It doesn’t suck, she’s just being a bitch,” Lachlan protested.
“Don’t call me a bitch,” you said.
“I’m just teasing,” Lachlan said, crawling over to you. You shrunk away from him, your heart beating like a cantering horse, and he grabbed your wrist. “One kiss, c’mon,” he said, his voice light and friendly, like you were happy to play along.
But you weren’t happy to play along. You didn’t know if everyone was too drunk to notice your obvious discomfort, or they didn’t care, but this was crossing the goddamn line.
“Fuck off, Lachlan,” you said, trying to pull your wrist back. You’d wanted your voice to be tough, to be assertive, but it was small and weak, and then Lachlan leant in for a kiss.
You turned your face away. “Lachlan–”
“Just fucking kiss me, for God’s sake, woman,” Lachlan growled, and grabbed your face with his other hand.
You pushed his hand away, and, without thinking, blurted out the one word that your panicked brain told you would stop everything in its tracks: “Nickleback.”
“What?” Lachlan said, and, good fucking God, of course that wouldn’t work, you were such a fucking idiot, and now you had no back-up plan, nothing else to do, and that word was supposed to stop things, why wasn’t it stopping things–
But then Lachlan was gone, and you felt a hand grab your other wrist and yank you up from the floor, and you unthinkingly leant into the body the hand belonged to as you were led from the room and into a bedroom, and the noise around you became muffled as the door closed behind you.
Then Brian was setting you down on the bed and sitting beside you. In an ideal world, he would have wrapped his arms around you and you would’ve been able to breathe again, like in a movie, but instead there was an awkward amount of space between you as he gingerly asked, “Are you all right?”
You barely even snuck a glance at him. You were humiliated by what had just happened, humiliated by needing him to rescue you, humiliated by your desperate craving for his touch, his comfort. You stared at the floor, curling in on yourself, and you nodded silently. Your hands still shook from adrenaline, and you could hear your heartbeat in your ears.
Brian sighed. “I’m sorry about them. I didn’t know…”
You shook your head. “It’s fine,” you mumbled.
Brian said nothing for a while, and then he reached over and patted you on the back. So achingly unfamiliar, and you felt your shoulders grow even more hunched than they already were. You didn’t think he’d ever touched you like that. Like you were a complete stranger.
You ducked your head, squeezing your eyes shut. Don’t you dare fucking cry.
There was a soft knock on the door, and Brian said, “Yeah?”
You glanced up to see Dani poke her head in, and you quickly looked away again. “Hey, baby,” she said.
Your stomach crawled.
“Is everything okay?”
“Yeah, it’s fine,” Brian said.
“All right,” Dani said. You could feel her hovering awkwardly.
Brian said your name, catching your attention, and then said, “I’ll just… let you have some time to yourself, all right?”
You said nothing. You did nothing. And Brian stood up and left the room, closing the door behind him.
“What happened?” came Dani’s voice from just outside the door.
“Lachlan was harassing her,” Brian said.
“They were just playing,” Dani said. “They’re all drunk, it’s just truth or dare.”
“No, I know, but…”
“You didn’t have to run in there like there was a fire and pull her out of there like that. Everyone’s going to ask me what that was all about. Where did that come from?”
Your ears were straining to hear Brian’s response.
“I… I just knew she needed to get out,” he said eventually.
“She could have left if she was uncomfortable.”
“She gets really anxious sometimes, she just freezes.”
You realised, then, that he must’ve heard you say ‘Nickleback’. He must have heard it and immediately known that something was wrong.
You groaned quietly to yourself, covering your face with your hands. Your ex-friend-with-benefits had heard you yell out your old safeword in the middle of a party, and had felt obliged to rush in like a knight in shining armour to swoop you to safety. Jesus Christ.
“She’s an adult, baby,” Dani said. “I’m sure she was fine.” You heard someone sigh. “It’s sweet that you guys are friends, but you don’t have to…”
“What?”
“Look out for her that much.”
“What do you mean? She’s my friend.”
Dani was silent for a while. “Did you guys used to…?”
The air was sucked from the room. Your ears strained to hear every word.
“What?” Brian said, clearly thrown.
“Did you used to date? It just seems like…”
“No,” Brian said quickly. “No, we never dated.”
“You’re not lying to me?”
“No, baby. I promise you, we never dated.”
You grimaced.
Someone sighed again. “Okay,” Dani said. “Good. The last thing I’d want is for you to be friends with an ex.”
Brian chuckled. It sounded forced. “Yeah, of course.”
“I’m glad we agree. Gimme a kissy?”
You could’ve thrown up right then and there. A kissy?
You could hear them murmuring to each other, and Dani’s voice had a particular whiny, baby-talk tone to it that made you want to ‘accidentally’ open the door into the both of them. But then they left, and you were even more alone than before, and you lay down on the bed and curled into a ball, feeling sorry for yourself.
It was time to go home.
-
By the grace of God himself, Brian offered to wait outside with you, sitting beside you on the kerb, while you called a ride home. Dani stayed inside with her friends.
“I’m sorry about… what happened,” Brian said, and you went still as a statue.
“What do you mean?” you said softly.
“Lachlan, and all of that.”
You let out a breath. “Oh,” you said. “Yeah, that. It’s fine.”
Silence. It wriggled under your skin like cockroaches.
You wanted to touch Brian. You wanted him to touch you. You wanted Roger there, too. You wanted them to want you, like they used to. You wanted to be allowed to want them like they used to love.
But Roger wasn’t there. And Brian barely was, either.
“Brian?” Dani called from the front door.
Brian twisted around. “Yeah, I’m here.”
“Oh, okay. Just checking everything’s good.”
“Yeah, we’re fine. Still waiting for the car.”
“Okay. See you inside.”
“Yep.”
“Miss you, baby.”
Brian chuckled. “Miss you too.”
You waited until Brian had turned back around to face the road, and then blurted out, “Why do you let her call you that? You hate pet names.”
Brian frowned, looking to you. “What?”
“Pet names. You hate them.”
“I don’t hate them,” he said.
“You don’t like them, at least.”
“According to who?”
“According to you,” you said. “You told me. And you never–” You never called me anything but my name when we were fucking. “You never said you liked them.”
“Well, I do,” Brian said. “And why do you care, anyway?”
“I just think it’s weird,” you said, and you were aiming for casual but you knew you sounded brash. “You don’t sound like yourself.”
“I’ve never had a girlfriend the whole time we’ve known each other,” Brian said. “You don’t know what I’m like when I’m in a relationship.”
“You shouldn’t change who you are when you’re in a relationship,” you said. “That doesn’t make sense.”
“I’m not changing who I am,” Brian said, his face pinched. “What has gotten into you?”
“Nothing,” you said harshly. “I just think you’re lying to yourself. You don’t like calling her baby, and you don’t like being called baby, and I just think it’s weird that you wouldn’t just say that.”
“Well, I just think it’s weird you think you have the right to comment on my relationship,” Brian said. “I like calling her baby. And I like it when she calls me baby.”
“But you don’t,” you insisted. “I can hear it in your voice.”
“What?” Brian exclaimed. “What the fuck are you on about?”
“I know you, okay?” you snapped. “I know you far better than she does. And I know you don’t like pet names, but you won’t tell her for some reason.”
“I won’t tell her because I like them,” Brian said. “And she knows me, too, you know.”
“She’s known you for, like, two months! Less than!” you said. “That’s nothing.”
“Why…” Brian floundered. “There isn’t some – time limit on these things. You can’t judge if someone knows someone better just by how long…”
“I just don’t get it,” you said. “Maybe that’s my fault, but I don’t get how someone can just walk into your life and suddenly they’re the most important person you’ve ever met when you’ve only known them for five minutes.”
“You’ve clearly never fallen in love,” Brian said snootily.
“Oh, fuck off,” you scoffed. “You’re not in love with her.”
“How would you know?”
“You’ve only been dating a couple weeks! Come on, Brian. You can call each other baby all you like, but I know you.”
“I like pet names,” Brian said, his voice hard. “I just never called you one because, in case you’ve forgotten, you were never my fucking girlfriend. So, for the love of God, can you stop acting like a jealous ex.”
It was like a stab to the gut and a twist of the knife all at the same time. All you could do was sit in stunned silence.
Brian looked at you, almost like he was waiting for a response, and when he never received one, he sighed, stood, and left.
Your chin wobbled, your vision blurred, and you scrabbled for your phone in your handbag.
-
Roger opened the door. “Hey–”
You leapt onto him, kissing him furiously. He stumbled, but kept his balance, one arm curling around your waist and the other groping for the door, pushing it closed. You spun him around and backed him up, pressing him against the door, and ducked your head to suck at his neck, palming at him through his sweatpants.
Roger jumped. “Oh, God, okay,” he said with a surprised laugh. “You’re really…”
You nodded, and captured his lips again, nipping at his bottom lip. “I want you so bad,” you breathed. “I want you to fuck me hard, Daddy, please.”
You didn’t wait for him to reply, and kissed him. You slipped your hands into his underwear, and he tensed underneath you, surprised again.
You needed him to fuck you, to bruise you, to bite you. To make you feel wanted, needed. To mark you up, to make you scream, to make it hurt. You needed it so badly that your hands shook.
Roger put a hand to your collarbones, and you thought he was going to choke you, but instead he pushed you back, just enough to stare into your face.
“Are you sure you want to call me Daddy?” he asked unsurely. “You seem a little…”
“What?” you said.
“Not yourself,” Roger said. “Are you– Have you been drinking?”
“The fuck does that mean?” you said. “I just really need you to fuck me hard, does that not sound like me?”
“I don’t–”
“Roger,” you cut in sharply, and then quickly softened your tone into something whinier, needier, more enticing. “Daddy. I want you. Please.”
Roger’s frown never disappeared. “I don’t want you to call me Daddy,” he said.
You blinked, taken aback. “Um, okay,” you said. You could still work with that. “No Daddy.” You went to kiss him again, but he held you away.
You resisted huffing in frustration. “Roger…”
“This is about Brian, isn’t it?” he said.
“What?” you said. “No. Why would it be about Brian? I want you.”
“You’re drunk and upset and jealous, and you want me to fuck you how he used to fuck you, because you miss it.”
A slap to the face would’ve hurt less. Your hands fell limp at your sides. “What?”
“Is that not what’s happening right now?” Roger said, his hands dropping as well. “Is that not why you’re over? You went to that party, got yourself all worked up and upset, and now you want to be fucked how Brian used to fuck you?”
You blinked. “N– No,” you said, and you meant it, but the more Roger said it, the more you thought that maybe he was right, and you hadn’t even realised.
“Because it’s what it feels like,” Roger said. “It feels like I’m just an outlet for you. It’s not even about you and me anymore, it’s about you and him.”
Oh my God. You hated to admit it, but he was right. You covered your mouth with your hands, horrified at yourself. “Fuck, Roger, I…”
“I’m ending the arrangement between us,” he said simply. “It’s not fun anymore, and it’s definitely not healthy. You need time to… I don’t even know. But you need time, and I don’t really feel like being collateral damage. Especially not with end-of-year exams literally just around the corner.”
No. No, no, no, fuck, not this, anything but this.
“No, Rog, please, I’m sorry,” you said. “I wasn’t thinking, I– I can’t–” You felt tears welling up in your eyes. “Please. I…”
Roger sighed, and pulled you into a hug. You clutched onto him, and, finally, cried. “Jesus Christ,” he murmured sympathetically, stroking your hair. “This whole thing has really messed you up, hasn’t it?”
“I c– can’t lose you t– too,” you sobbed into his shirt.
“You’re not losing me. We’re still friends. It just… won’t be with the benefits anymore. For now, at least. Maybe forever, I don’t know. See how things go. But I’m never going to stop being friends with you.”
Your body shook as you cried, and Roger rubbed your back, letting you ruin his shirt.
-
The Bee Movie played on the TV, but your heart wasn’t in it. You leant against Roger, a cup of tea in your hands, and one in his. You were exhausted from crying, and you almost found yourself nodding off. Normally there was nothing more fun than enjoying the trials and tribulations of Barry B. Benson with Roger, but now not even casual bestiality was enough to cheer you up.
Roger didn’t say much, either. You had no idea what he was thinking, although you were pretty sure he wasn’t really watching the movie, just staring at the screen.
“I’m sorry,” you said, your voice breaking a little.
Roger sighed. “It’s okay,” he said, giving you a soft, sad smile. “I know you’re going through a tough time right now.”
“I don’t even understand why,” you said, your bottom lip trembling. Not again. “I never liked him like that, not ever. I know I never liked him like that. I didn’t want to go out on dates with him, or be his girlfriend, or any of that. So I don’t get why it – hurts so much.”
“Your thing went on for a really long time,” Roger reasoned. “And now it’s gone. I can’t blame you. I…” He bit his lip. “I… kinda miss it too, to be honest.”
You frowned at him in confusion. “You miss… Brian?”
“I miss…” Roger took a sip of his tea. “I miss the dynamic, I suppose. We actually got a lot closer because of it. And it was fun, you know? Especially the threesomes, those were really fun.”
You managed a tired laugh.
“It was just nice to have… a thing, that was ours,” Roger said. “Us three, I don’t know. This thing that was ours. I don’t know if that makes sense.”
“No, it does,” you said. You paused, and then said, “You and Brian aren’t as close now?”
Roger shrugged a shoulder. “Not… really?” he said unsurely. “We haven’t really hung out a lot recently. I mean, we’ve been studying a lot, so I haven’t really seen much of anyone as of late, but, like, for a while, me and Brian hung out a whole lot, just the two of us. Guess you end up feeling closer when you have to talk about your feelings all the time. And when you see each other naked every so often.” He shot you a smile, and you smiled back. “But now it’s sort of in a weird place. I mean, none of us have seen him a lot, he’s just with Dani all day and night. Which makes sense, they’re in their honeymoon phase. But I do miss… that.”
You nodded in understanding. “It doesn’t even feel like he wants to be around me,” you said in a small voice. “Like I’m not even friends with him anymore.”
“You are,” Roger assured you. “You just… both have to learn how to be… normal friends again.”
“And us too,” you added.
Roger blinked, but nodded. “Yeah,” he said. “Yeah, us, too.”
You didn’t want to say it, you knew you shouldn’t say it, but the alcohol had loosened your tongue: “You gonna miss me?”
Roger’s eyes widened for a moment, and then he took a big breath in and out, shaking his head. “Damn,” he muttered.
“Sorry, ignore me,” you mumbled. “I’m just being sad and pathetic.”
“You’re not sad and pathetic,” Roger said. “But I’m not gonna miss you, you’ll still be around.”
“You know what I mean,” you said.
“Yeah, I know,” Roger said. He sighed again. “I don’t think… it would be good for either of us if I answered that.”
You said nothing. It felt like Roger wanted to say more, but he didn’t.
“But…” You looked to him, and he looked to you. “Can we still be friends like before?” you asked him. “I mean, just – with Brian, he won’t even hug me hello or goodbye, he barely looks at me, he doesn’t want to be near me, I just–” You shook your head. “I couldn’t stand it if you did that, too. Can we at least just be friends?”
Roger nodded. “Of course,” he said.
“Yes?”
“Yes, of course,” he said again. “I promise you, okay? I like hugs just as much as you do.”
You nodded, reassured. “Thank you.”
Roger threw his arm around you and gave you a squeeze, then took his arm back.
A month and a bit ago, he would’ve left his arm there, around your shoulders. You would’ve pressed closer into him. Probably eventually would’ve lifted your head to kiss his neck, or maybe your hands – or his hands – would’ve gone wandering.
But a squeeze was something, at least, and you were grateful for it. You told yourself you were grateful for it.
-
Three-ish months later
The air was just starting to cool, and, for the first time in a while, you pulled on a jacket.
It had been a while since you’d seen your flat. You’d gone home for the summer – not for the whole time, you still had rent to pay and you didn’t want to waste it, but for a few weeks – which had been a welcomed change of scenery.
After how your previous semester of uni had ended, the last thing you’d wanted was to hang around the flat.
It had been an uncomfortable summer. The mid-year break, last year, you hadn’t gone home. You’d told your parents it was because of the rent thing, but in reality, it had mostly been about Roger and Brian. A month off uni, and your flatmate Lucy had gone home for the break, meaning you had a free house? That had been a wild couple of weeks.
You shook your head. Stop, you reprimanded yourself. It did you no good to reminisce. You’d had an entire summer to sort things out for yourself, to reset, and it was a bad idea to let yourself slip. You’d barely spoken to Roger or Brian all summer, just to give yourself some space.
You’d missed them. A lot. Maybe cried once or twice. Maybe more. But that was only for you to know.
You doubted that they’d missed you.
The thought still felt like a stab to the gut, and you squeezed your eyes shut, shaking your head at yourself. Stop it. Stop.
There was a knock on the front door, and you were momentarily surprised – but you knew it was Veronica. You took a moment to get your thoughts together, then hurried to the door to let her in.
She greeted you with a joyous cry of your name and a warm hug. “It’s been so long!”
The two of you rocked from foot to foot, and you breathed in her familiar smell. You hadn’t seen her since before Christmas.
When the hug eventually ended, Veronica sighed happily. “Can’t believe I’ve missed you,” she said, and you laughed, giving her a backhand slap on the arm.
“Cow,” you said.
“So you’ve kept the same place?”
“Yep,” you said.
“Lucy still your flatmate?”
“Yeah. It works well, so.”
“No, no, she’s lovely,” Veronica said with a nod. “Did she want to come to drinks tonight?”
You glanced towards Lucy’s room instinctively, even though you knew she wasn’t in there. “She’s not coming back until Wednesday, I think.”
“Ah, well, answers that question.” Veronica gave you a smile. You could tell there was a question on the tip of her tongue, and you just stood there, waiting for her to ask it.
She sighed again, resigned. She knew she’d been sprung. “I wasn’t going to ask. I– I wasn’t sure if I should.”
“I’m okay,” you said. “I’m fine.”
Veronica squinted at you unsurely, like she wanted to press you for further information, but wasn’t sure if it was a good idea. “Fine?”
“It’s been a bit rough, but I’m okay,” you said.
You’d tell her the truth soon enough. You had no willpower when it came to Veronica. But you weren’t in the mood for a whole conversation right now.
“So you’re all right for tonight?”
You rolled your eyes. “Am I capable of getting drinks with my friends? Yes, I think so.”
“Even though Dani will be there?”
“Brian and Dani have been dating for, like, five months now – and don’t say it like that. Brian isn’t my ex.”
“Roger’s dating someone,” Veronica blurted.
Your heart leapt into your throat. Stop. “Oh?” you said, and it sounded warped and wonky. “Since when? Good for him. Have you met her?”
“Once,” Veronica said. “Just last week, when I dropped by the flat. Her name is–” She let out a laugh. “Actually, this is really funny. Her name is Freddy.”
You laughed. “What?” you squawked. “Freddy?”
“Freddy with a Y,” Veronica said. “Roger made that very clear when I met her. As if that changes anything.”
“God, I bet that’s confusing in bed,” you said.
“Yeah, well, I’m guessing the ‘with a Y’ part makes all the difference for Roger.”
“Freddy,” you mused. “What’s it short for?”
“No idea. But she’s not as hot as you are.”
You shot Veronica a mock glare. “Roger isn’t my ex either.”
“Still,” Veronica said lightly. She hesitated, and then said, “Have you spoken to either of them recently?”
“No, not really,” you said, as casually as you could muster. “Look, Ron, could we just… table this conversation for later? I’m not really up to it.”
“Yeah, of course,” Veronica said, waving a hand. “Sorry, sorry, I’ll keep my nose out of it. Let’s just go. Are you ready?”
You took a steadying breath. “So ready,” you said, hoping you sounded more confident than you felt.
-
Arriving at the local pub felt like coming home. The smell of beer, the roar of conversation, the bundles of people crowded around tables. The floor was sticky, there weren’t enough places to sit, and the prices up on the chalkboard on the wall were far too high.
You scrunched your nose. Coming home sucked.
“I forgot how much I hate this place,” you yelled into Veronica’s ear. “We need to find somewhere less popular, Jesus.”
“I know,” Veronica said. “I’ve mentioned it to John; he thinks the same.”
“Next time.”
“Yeah, next time.”
You said that every time.
Veronica corroborated her instructional texts from John with the view in front of her in order to find everyone else. They were tucked away in a corner booth, crammed into the space.
You’d had enough trouble as it was, trying to fit everyone into a booth. You couldn’t even imagine how you were going to make it work with two new people in the group.
Veronica took your hand and gave it a reassuring squeeze as you neared the table.
There was John, at the end of the booth, facing you – his eyes lit up when he spotted Veronica, and began shifting over to make room for her beside him. At the end of the table, on a chair, was Freddie. He noticed John’s line of sight, and he turned to you, his smile wide.
You couldn’t really see the others. Just the back of Brian’s head. But that was hard to miss.
Freddie stood up to give you a warm hug as Veronica tossed around a few ‘hello’s and slid in next to John. “Darling!” Freddie said. “I haven’t seen you all break.”
“I know, I’m sorry,” you said.
Freddie waved you off. “It’s fine,” he said. “I understand.” He glanced towards the other occupants of the booth.
“Don’t start,” you muttered, and Freddie gave your arm a swift pat.
“Speaking of which,” he said, turning. “Roger, Brian, you remember our dear friend, I’m sure?”
You resisted elbowing Freddie in the side, giving Brian and Roger tight smiles.
At the same time, your eyes landed on Dani and her browny blonde Ariana Grande ponytail and her mouse face and her curvy body pressed into Brian’s side. And beside Roger, tucked under his arm, was a blonde, tanned girl. Blue eyes, like Roger, but hers were light, strikingly so, and a perfect full face of make-up. Her brows were dark and bold, and her lips looked pouty and soft.
‘Not as hot as you were’ your arse. This girl looked like she modelled in her spare time.
Your jaw clenched. You resisted dragging Veronica away by her ear and having a word with her.
Stop it. Stop it.
“This is Freddy,” Freddie said.
“With a Y,” Roger added quickly.
“Yes, with a Y,” Freddie said dryly. “Roger’s new flame.”
“Hi,” Freddy said with a smile. Her teeth were very white. She lifted a well-manicured hand to fiddle with the silver chain around her neck.
You could see the discolouration on her knuckles. Well, at least you knew her tan wasn’t real. That was something. Wasn’t it?
No. It wasn’t. She looked incredible anyway. Didn’t even matter that she was wearing fake tan. What a stupid thing to think.
You introduced yourself.
There was a pause where no one really knew what to say next.
“Hi, by the way,” John said.
Relieved, you gave him a smile. “Hi, John, how are you?”
“Not too bad. Do you want to find a chair?”
God bless John Deacon. “Let me help you,” Freddie said, and you both began wandering through the crowd together, knowing there was no way in hell you’d be able to find a chair.
“How are you?” Freddie asked. “Actually, sod the fucking chair, let’s get a drink.”
“Sounds superb,” you said.
“Try again,” Freddie said when you’d gotten in line. “How are you?”
“Fine,” you said. “And you?”
“Good, fine,” Freddie said. “Lonely. I want a boyfriend. Everyone else is in a godforsaken relationship, so I only think it’s reasonable. Look at me, the token lonely, single homosexual in a group of straight people. Right out of an early 2000s chick flick. I may as well start wearing skinny scarves and a vest and talk about how much I love shopping. Do you think I’m sassy enough?”
“Stop it,” you said. “If you start wearing skinny scarves, I’ll strangle you with one.”
“If I start wearing skinny scarves, I’d practically be begging you to,” Freddie muttered.
“I’m sorry you’re lonely,” you said. “I could be your wingwoman, if you like. We could go out together.”
Freddie gave you a smile. “Yeah, I’d like that,” he said. His eyes scanned the chalkboard, as did yours, but it was more habit than anything else. “What did you get up to during the break?”
“Slept,” you said, and Freddie chuckled, nodding in agreement.
“Ate too much,” he added.
“Yep, that too,” you said with a laugh. “Never left the house.”
“Except to buy more booze.”
“Or take the bins out.”
Freddie laughed. “Isn’t summer wonderful.”
“Oh, it’s just perfect,” you said, and it came out so bitter, with such a sneer in your tone, that Freddie cracked up. A few heads turned, but they usually did, with Freddie.
“Did you stay here or go home?” you asked.
“Both,” Freddie said. “Mostly here, though. Just wanted to see the family for a while, but I’m far more comfortable here.”
You nodded.
“Did you talk to Brian and Roger much?” Freddie said.
You shook your head. “No.”
That was all.
“Well, shit,” Freddie said. “That’s all just completely fucked, then?”
“It’s fine,” you said. You reached the front of the line, and went to order. Freddie followed you.
You ordered a cider, then Freddie ordered a pint. “What do you think of Freddy with a Y?” Freddie asked as the bartender poured your drinks.
“I’ve barely met her,” you said. “Didn’t know she existed until Ron told me just before we left mine.”
“Jesus,” Freddie said. “You really haven’t spoken to them.”
“No,” you said. “And Roger doesn’t post much on social media, either, so. And Brian posts far too much, so I know way too much about him and Dani for my liking, which is wonderful.”
“I’m sorry,” Freddie said. “God, I’m sorry it’s all gone to shit, I really am. That’s miserable, darling.”
“It’s fine,” you said. The bartender set your drinks in front of you, and you and Freddie collected them, weaving your way back to the table.
“Did you… get around to dating much?” Freddie asked.
“Wasn’t in the mood,” you said.
Freddie said nothing. Message received.
You arrived back at the booth. While you’d gotten a drink, you hadn’t solved the seating problem.
You bunched up next to Veronica. It wasn’t comfortable, but it wasn’t unbearable.
You met Brian’s eyes across the table. He gave you a warm smile. It hurt. You hated that it hurt. “I haven’t said hi yet,” he said, like you hadn’t just gone three months without seeing or speaking to each other. “How you going?”
“Good, good,” you said, and took a swig of cider. “You?”
“Yeah, great. Get up to much?”
“Not really. Did you?”
“Not too much,” Brian said. “Dani and I took a little trip south. That was nice, wasn’t it, baby?”
“So nice,” Dani said with a cheeky, knowing little grin at Brian.
He shook his head at her, and she giggled, then reached up for a quick kiss.
You knew about the little trip south. Everybody knew about the little trip south. Brian had waxed poetry about it on Instagram for every single day they were away. “So lots of sex, then,” you said.
Veronica choked on her water, and Roger burst out laughing.
You hadn’t realised he’d been listening to the conversation.
Dani’s face was turning tomato-red, and she hid her face behind her hand. Brian managed a good-natured chuckle, albeit a slightly forced one, and you could tell he was rubbing Dani’s knee under the table.
“What, what was the joke?” Freddie said immediately.
“Nothing,” you said, and turned to Roger. “So, Freddy, with a Y, how did you and Roger meet?”
“Bumble,” Freddy said, unabashed. “About a month ago?”
“Yeah, about that,” Roger said.
“Yeah, Ron said,” you said. “That’s nice.”
“So there’s…” Roger licked his bottom lip. “There’s no one you’ve got your eye on, then?”
“No,” you said, uncomfortable. Why would anyone want you? You were messy, you were too much. You were demanding. You were easily replaced.
You took a sip of cider. Stop.
It had been three months, for God’s sake. Three months of no contact, and still you were left with an ugly, twisted feeling in the pit of your stomach after everything that had happened.
None of it had even mattered. You’d always known it had had an expiration date. You were just…
You hated feeling like this.
“Hey,” Veronica said suddenly, raising her glass of water. “Let’s make a toast, shall we? To the new year. To– to passing our classes, and to ramen, and to… fresh starts.”
Everyone raised their glasses, saying something along the lines of cheers, and began clinking their glasses together. You took a moment longer, but joined in.
Veronica met your eyes to clink her glass to yours. “Fresh starts,” she said with a small smile.
You couldn’t quite say it back, so you smiled and nodded, then took a sip of your cider.
You could feel Brian’s and Roger’s eyes on you. You pretended to be interested in something happening across the room.
God, you couldn’t wait for this chapter of your life to be nothing but a bad dream.
#try series#try verse#my writing#queen fanfiction#roger taylor x reader#brian may x reader#rpf#angst
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