#I remember trying to not look at him at the gig we technically met at bc I was immediately like oh no he's way too hot and clearly a dork | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

dutchvanwinkle · 2 years ago

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Mr Van der Linde Pt. 6 - Dutch x Reader

This chapter is pretty heavy, with an exploration into grief and mental disorders. I’ve provided more of my thought process at the end as I don’t want to spoil the plot up here, but it’s there if you want to take a look beforehand!

As always - here's the ao3 link.

Summary: Dutch takes you on a minibreak and finally opens up about himself and his past.

Word count: 5,532

Content warnings: smut, discussions around mental health

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Since his visit at the start of term, Dutch had made a point of calling you to catch up at least once a week. He wasn’t the texting type and preferred to hear about your days rather than read about them, which was rather sweet, except you had to keep your voice down if he called you while you were in your flat – just in case.

After repeatedly trying to arrange a weekend to see you with no success, one day he sent you a message to keep three of the days a couple of weeks before Christmas free when he knew you’d be finished with lectures for the term.

Fast-forward to then, he’d picked you up and driven the two of you to a small cottage he’d rented in the countryside a few hours away for the two of you to have some alone time together.

The place was beautiful, quaint, and with enough local amenities to keep you busy. Although, you didn’t have much time to explore, since as soon as you’d entered and dropped your bags, Dutch attached his lips to yours and had you bent over the kitchen counter for an apt reuniting. I’ve missed you he’d said into your hair once finished, and opened up the opportunity for you to try the shower together.

“I was thinking,” he said, sipping at his coffee as he caught up with the evening news on the old boxy television once you were both squeaky clean, “we stay in for food tonight, rest up, and go out to eat tomorrow?”

“Sounds good,” you agreed, lifting the blanket from the back of the sofa and joining Dutch on it, draping it over the two of you and sighing contently once you were nestled into his side, the crackling fire swiftly warming the room. It was scary how easy it was to just be like this with him, but you couldn't bring yourself to question it. “Where’s there to eat around here?”

“Uh,” Dutch pulled out his phone and scrolled around on maps, “there’s not much. A café and a pub, both relatively close to here.”

“Either will do,” you yawned, resting your head on his shoulder. “I still can’t believe you arranged this.”

“Well, I knew you couldn’t weasel your way out of it if we had something booked.”

“I don’t weasel my way out of anything -”

“No?” Dutch interrupted, raising his brows at you, “assignments popping up out of nowhere, extra shifts at work, a gig you forgot you had tickets for, none of those ring a bell?”

You grumbled into the fabric of his shirt. “All valid excuses.”

“Whatever you say, miss,” he chuckled light-heartedly. “I believe, anyway, this is a cause for celebration,” he stood, making his way into the kitchen and returning with two glasses and a bottle of fancy champagne.

“Where the hell did you hide that? And what are we celebrating?”

“I believe,” he opened the champagne on the small coffee table in front of you and poured out a glass. “You’re now halfway through your time at university, correct?”

“Sort of,” you took the glass from him, “technically, it’s not halfway until after these exams. Close enough, though.”

“And,” he sat beside you, his own glass in hand, “it’s been a year since you and I met.”

“It has?”

“There or thereabouts. You came over just before Christmas.”

“Oh yeah,” you tilted your head, recalling the first time you saw Dutch casually lying on his sofa. “So it has.”

“I can’t believe you don’t remember,” Dutch scoffed, swilling the champagne around his glass.

“Aw,” you said patronisingly, “I didn’t realise you’d been counting. Do you have a journal filled with my initials and hearts, too?”

Dutch narrowed his gaze, a stern breath out of his nose. “I’m trying to be romantic.”

You smirked, clinking your glass against his and have a swig. “To romance.”

With a scoff, Dutch leaned over to place his glass on the table. “Last time I do anything nice for you -”

“What are you doing?” you gasped, picking his glass up and shunting it into his hand.

“What?”

“Drink it! It’s seven years of bad sex if you toast without having a drink afterwards.”

“You know that from experience?”

“Just drink it,” you tapped the bottom of the glass reprimandingly, and he did as you asked.

“I didn’t have you down as the superstitious type,” he put his arm around you, amusement lighting up his face.

You leaned into him all the same. “I’m not, exactly. But I don’t want to take the risk. I’m quite a fan of our sex.”

“As am I,” he agreed, taking another sip. “Are you glad your first semester is over?”

“I will be when the exams finish. But by that point, it’ll be second semester and I’ll have to do it all over again,” you responded begrudgingly.

“How’s John getting along? He doesn’t tell me much.”

“He’s fine,” you shrugged, not wanting to be the middleman between the two.

Dutch let out a sigh and stretched his back. “I should’ve known you’d be no help on that front.”

“I am not getting involved,” you laughed. “If you want to know how he’s doing, ask him yourself. Plus, I’d rather not be reminded that he’s your son.”

“Can’t run from the truth, darlin’,” he mused, and the two of you took another sip.

“I’m not running. I’m just ignoring it.”

“How’s that different?”

“Because I said so,” you shrugged, shifting slightly to look around the room. “I like it here.”

Dutch glanced around too. “We’ll do it again sometime.”

The statement hinted at a future, the thought of which had been ruminating around your head as of late. You pushed it back, not wanting to divulge away from the relaxed atmosphere in the room. Instead, you snuggled up to Dutch and sat for a while until your conversation was filled with more yawns than words, at which point you turned in for the night.

Waking up laid on Dutch’s chest wasn’t something you were used to yet, but it was something you enjoyed greatly. So much so, that once you’d awoken the next morning, you remained in your position and didn’t check if he was awake, wanting to savour the comfort and warmth he provided.

That was, until he shifted, and you heard him pull something from the draw, then a lid coming off. You peeked upwards, finding Dutch taking a swig of water and screwing the lid back on a bottle of pills that he hastily put back in the drawer.

“What are those?” you asked, leaning up on your elbow to look over at his nightstand.

Dutch tensed, slowly shifting his eyes to meet yours before swallowing down the tablet. He looked like he’d been caught in a questionable act, the expression on his face one you’d never seen there before.

Shame.

You put a hand on his arm, a minor attempt at soothing whatever worry had been prodded awake in his mind. “What is it?”

“I - they’re -” he began, looking back at his glass of water and sighing deeply. “I suppose you had to find out sooner or later.”

“Find what out?” you sat up, facing him as concern began brewing in your mind. “Dutch, are you okay?”

“Yes, yeah, I’m fine. They’re just,” he leaned back against the headboard, decompressing as his panic turned into acceptance. “They’re mood stabilisers.”

“Oh,” you responded, glad to hear that none of the worst-case scenarios in your head were true. You wanted to know more, but this was clearly a sensitive topic for him. “Do you want to tell me about it?”

He looked at you with mild surprise, blinking a few times to glance down at his hands which he was wringing together. You placed your palm over them. “I don’t necessarily want to, but it’s about time you knew about it.”

You nodded, allowing him to go at his own pace, your heart wrenching at how raw and exposed he was for the first time since you’d met him. This certainly wasn’t what you’d expected from this weekend.

“Not now. How about we go on a walk after breakfast? It’s a lovely part of the country,” he gestured out the window, hopeful.

“I’d like that.”

The two of you spoiled yourself with breakfast at a local café, idle chatter and comfortable silences accompanying your meal. Part of you wished you could go for a nap but walking it off was the more sensible option. Besides, you didn’t think letting Dutch hold that extra weight on his shoulders for any longer than necessary was a good idea.

You walked from the local village to a nearby trail, with open fields and sky that stretched out for miles. You’d gotten lucky with the weather, despite not being hot, the sun was out and made for a nice addition to the scenery. After only a few steps, Dutch casually took your hand in his and the two of you began the walk.

“I’ve been on them for years,” Dutch’s opening sentence was soft, as though he’d been deep in thought about how to begin the conversation.

“Have they helped?” The question felt like a silly one, you doubted he’d take them if they didn’t, but you weren’t sure what to ask at this moment, or whether you were to ask anything at all.

“Yeah. A lot.” He sounded almost glum.

“That’s good.”

“Was Arthur who got me on them in the first place.”

You hummed in acknowledgement, feeling for a boundary you didn’t want to cross. “What are you like without them? If you don’t mind me asking.”

“No, it’s fine.” Out of the corner of your eye, you noticed him glance at you and felt reassured. “Uh, I think Arthur’s word for it was ‘unreasonable’. Though I think he was being nice, to placate me.”

“On account of your unreasonableness.”

“Exactly.”

The silence extended, and you enjoyed the singsong of birds nearby while you waited for him to find his next words.

“Arthur... he’s put up with a lot. A lot more than the other two. I half wonder how he still tolerates me.”

“By put up with, do you mean with regards to you specifically?” you pried gently, hoping you weren’t putting words in his mouth.

“Unfortunately. After Ann -” Dutch stopped, giving you a sharp look at the realisation this was the first time he’d mentioned his late wife.

“You can talk about Annabelle,” you reassured him, “I’d like to hear about her.”

He nodded, relieved. “After she - Annabelle, passed away, I guess I sort of changed. Well, John doesn’t agree with that, but -”

“Agree with what?” you asked, unsure what he was referring to.

Dutch sighed, visibly uncomfortable but with a lingering desire to continue his explanation. “John reckons I was always this way. Just that the circumstance brought it out,” he looked to the ground at the stones shifting beneath his steps, and you ran your thumb over his hand that was still clasped around yours. “Sorry, I’m not making much sense.”

Hearing him speak without an air of self-assurance was almost jarring, as though no matter how hard he tried to plan out the words there just wasn't a good way to say them. “It’s okay. Why don’t you go back to Annabelle’s passing?”

“Right, good idea.” Dutch paused for an extended moment, ordering his thoughts. “I was so angry. That’s what I remember the most – just pure rage. She was a good person, and then she was gone.”

You chewed on your lip, wondering if it was your place to ask but decided it might help you understand Dutch that little bit more. “How did it happen?”

“She got sick.” That was all Dutch said, and that was all you needed to know. “We had a home, a good life, a family. Then it was just me, with these kids and I didn’t know the first thing about how to bring them up. Arthur was a teenager, poor Tilly just a toddler.”

“But you’d brought them up until that point?”

Dutch nodded diplomatically. “I suppose. Annabelle did all the tough bits, though, as most mothers do. But it wasn’t just that. The worst part was that I -” he trailed off, looking across the horizon and unable to hide the pain on his face. “I didn’t want to.”

Your brows knitted together. “Bring them up?”

“I just remember them wanting to... go away. I was heartbroken, I didn’t want to deal with their broken hearts too. It sounds awful, doesn’t it?” he looked at you, eyes sad and riddled with guilt.

“Grief’s a funny thing.”

A short, humourless laugh left Dutch and he turned his attention back to the scenery ahead. “Arthur,” his voice cracked on the name, “perceptive as he is, ended up doing a large part of that job for me. Mainly because I let him.” The pair of you took a few more steps, allowing the silence to dilute the tense air building around Dutch. “I resented him for it.”

“Why?” you asked gently.

“The kid was a better man than me. He’d lost his mother, and he had it in him to support his siblings. I just felt weak, almost like they’d -” he swallowed, his jaw ticking, “like they’d be better off if I wasn’t there.”

“Oh, Dutch -”

“Don’t,” he warned, not meeting your gaze, “it’s not sympathy I deserve.”

While you didn't completely agree with that statement, you opted for doing as he asked and kept quiet on that front.

“After a while, I got paranoid. I thought Arthur was trying to replace me, and I started to accuse him of it in not-so-many words. One night, Arthur did something he’d never done before.”

“What?”

“He shouted at me. Yelled at me. At that moment it was like seeing my own rage reflected, as he whittled off everything he hated about me. I was speechless. And at that moment, I hated him too.” Dutch’s face hardened with the memory, and he consciously shook it away. “The next day, Hosea – you remember him? I’m not sure you’ve met.”

“I remember,” you nodded. Dutch’s best friend, the one he worked with. You’d never spoken with him, but you were sure you’d seen him at the barbeque back in summer.

“Well, he came around. Sat me down with Arthur and they had an... intervention of sorts. He was more of a father to Arthur than I was at that time, and I hadn’t even noticed just how much he’d been there, taking the kids out and such. But I trust Hosea, always have.” For the first time in this conversation, Dutch’s eyes misted up, but he blinked it away. “He told me I needed to get help, and I did. I couldn’t have done it without him and Arthur.”

You walked some more, Dutch’s hand comfortably intertwined with yours. “Shit,” you huffed, wishing you had better words to articulate your thoughts. “I - that’s a lot. I’m sorry.”

“Why are you sorry?” he asked.

“I’m sorry you had to go through that. It mustn’t have been easy, accepting you need help and then seeing it through to this point.”

He looked at you, still a little puzzled.

“You’ve come a long way,” you shrugged, and Dutch’s face softened as though viewing his progress as an achievement wasn’t something he often did. That didn't surprise you, for as hard as could be on his kids he was noticeably harder on himself. “I didn’t know Annabelle, but I like to think she’d be proud of you for it.”

Dutch nodded, again looking at the countryside ahead and when his lip quivered you stopped walking, turning towards him and he mirrored your actions. You brought a hand up to the side of his face, running a thumb under his eye to catch one of his less-stubborn tears. “You’re very understanding,” his voice was weak as it carried the words, an odd thing to hear from such a proud, strong man.

There wasn’t much you could say, really. John had never mentioned anything about this, and your initial thoughts about their perfect family life were far from the truth. Their money wasn’t enough to save Annabelle, work through their grief, or avoid the inevitable trauma that followed. The life they had was built from the ground up on a rocky foundation, and it told you a lot about Dutch to know what he’d worked through to get to this point. You wrapped your arms around his waist and embraced him, the two of you remaining like that for a short time before continuing the walk, a much lighter atmosphere surrounding you for the rest of its duration.

After the walk, the two of you were hungry enough to go out for dinner earlier than planned, and promptly returned to the cottage once fed.

“What did you do with the rest of that champagne?” you called into the kitchen, fiddling with the cardigan you’d draped over your shoulders.

“I stuck it in the fridge with a spoon in the opening. Should be okay – do you want some more?” Dutch called back.

“Well,” you shifted on the arm of the sofa you were perched on, “I was thinking we could give that hot tub a whirl.”

A comical pause of silence preluded Dutch appearing in the doorway, eyebrows raising when he was met with you in your bikini. A half-smile inched onto his face, and he licked his lips absentmindedly. “You are full of good ideas,” he leaned up against the doorframe, his voice dropping in pitch. “You don’t think it’ll be cold?”

“Not in the hot tub,” you shrugged. “I’ll go figure out how to turn it on.” With that, you stood and walked away, smirking at the lack of movement on Dutch’s part.

Eventually, he pulled himself together and you were already relaxed in the warm water when he came outside, in his own shorts with the champagne in hand. The smile he couldn’t keep off his face was contagious as he placed the drink down and stepped into the water to sit opposite you.

He did look undeniably cute surrounded by bubbles.

Once he’d poured a glass, he handed it over and you held it up expectantly, waiting for his toast.

“Oh no, you were rather critical of my toast yesterday,” he said amusedly, pouring his own glass. “If you want one, you do it.”

You smiled surreptitiously, tilting your head while you thought. Once one came to mind, you flicked your gaze to his and cleared your throat. “To plentiful sex.”

Dutch tipped his head back as he laughed, eyes shining when they met yours. “Well, the gods of toasting do seem to have a lot of power in determining sexual relations, it seems, so that is fitting.”

With a nod of agreement, you extended your arm out and Dutch tapped his glass against yours. He made a show of retaining eye contact while you both took a sip. You jolted when something came into contact with your foot, but relaxed upon the realisation that it was just Dutch’s own foot inching towards you. Your body grew warmer at the insinuation, now heating up from the inside as well the outside thanks to the steamy water. He crept further up your shin, over your knee and up your inner thigh, then paused. He shunted his foot upwards, knocking your glass of champagne and did a good job of spilling it down your front.

“Dutch,” you cried in a half-laugh, sitting up straight and shivering at the cool alcohol on your skin.

The man just laughed, but soon leaned over onto your side of the tub. “Don’t worry,” he rumbled, taking your glass and setting it down along with his, “I’ve got it.” With that, he brought his head to your chest and licked the champagne from your cleavage, all the way up to your neck. Your shock swiftly moulded into arousal, sighing softly and arching into his touch.

“You’re a bastard,” you said despite yourself, but even that came out all breathy.

“You love it,” he said against your skin, continuing to clear it of the spilt champagne. “Besides,” he lifted his head, “it’d be unfair not to test that toast of yours.”

“Unfair?” you repeated, running one of his damp curls between your fingers, “unfair on who, exactly?”

“Me, you, the toast gods...” he said in-between pecks to your chest, trailing down to venture between your breasts once again.

Your fingertips ran into his scalp, spurring him on. “Well, we can’t have that.”

Dutch kissed along your clavicle then brought his face to yours. “I admire your fairness.”

After sighing out a laugh you pecked his lips, and one turned to two which turned to many. He tasted of champagne, and you wrapped your arms around his neck, his hands moving behind your back to untie your bikini. Without breaking the chain of kisses, you made a joint effort to remove it and he instantly found your breasts, caressing them in his hands.

You moved your fingers through his hair to hold the back of his head, keeping his lips pressed onto yours. Dutch brought his hand to your face, reciprocating your desire until the kiss broke and you brought a palm up to his cheek, the pair of you catching your breath and observing each other as day turned to night. “Are you sure we can do this in here?” you asked.

“I don’t think I’ll be able to survive the wait to do it anywhere else,” Dutch huffed and that was more reasoning than you needed; you weren’t sure you’d survive it yourself. You encouraged him to sit where he was previously and straddled him, the warm water sloshing around your bodies.

Dutch hummed as his palms felt their way up your thigh and you angled yourself so that his cock was pressed against you in just the right place between your combined swimwear. His fingers trailed around, squeezing your ass then trailing further still to press over your cunt. Thankfully, he couldn’t tease you for how wet you were this time.

Your whine in response was likely enough for him to figure it out anyway, and he deftly moved your bikini bottoms to the side so he could slide a finger in, and you clenched around it, searching for more.

“That’s it,” he cooed, voice thick and breaths short. You ground your clit onto him while he pumped his finger, soon after adding a second. It was greedy, but you always wanted more when it came to this man. His other hand brushed up your flank to reach your breast, running his thumb over your nipple as he intently watched the pleasure spread over your face. “You truly are magnificent.”

You tutted, lightly pinching his shoulder. “Hush.”

He shook his head with a smile. “Never.”

Reaching down to remove his shorts, he lifted his hips to assist, and you decided you might as well go completely bare too. After untying your bottoms, you flung them over the side with his shorts and immediately ground onto his length. Dutch whimpered weakly as you lined up and slowly sunk down onto him.

“Oh my,” Dutch breathed and held your hips in his hands, keeping your crotch anchored to his while your walls fluttered around him and got used to the feeling. His body was growing familiar, a thing you anticipated but admired all the same just as you had the first time you’d become intertwined.

You shifted your knees and pressed your torso into his, a gentle hand on his neck to persuade him to look up at you. He did, and with a stifled sigh, you pressed your lips to his. Dutch was oddly pliant, allowing your tongue in and following your lead as you explored his mouth. Experimentally, you raised your hips some and sunk back down, finding a tender rhythm that made him dig his fingernails into your flesh.

While the air was cold, the two of you were burning hot. Manoeuvring yourself up and down Dutch’s length allowed for a measure of control you hadn’t had previously, and the quiet praise he repeated as you moved told you all you needed to know about his thoughts on the matter. His thighs twitched occasionally, him fighting the urge to pound into you and rush to the finish.

Leaning back from him, you took in the sight of his steamy, soaked skin, the pink flush that resided there and the defined curls, some of which fell forward onto his face. He was drinking you in, too, your wet skin and exposed nipples, along with the lust-filled expression on your face as your lips parted and eyes grew heavy. The angle allowed for a repeated pressure over the sensitive spot in your walls, and you dropped your head back with a moan as the intensity increased with each thrust.

“Dutch,” you whispered into the evening air, thoroughly and contently filled with him.

“I know, darlin’,” he agreed, enamoured with the view of you falling apart right on his lap.

Dutch’s muscles, highlighted thanks to the blanket of water covering his form, grew taut with the strength of which he clung to you. He squeezed your thighs, dragging his fingernails over your skin and his carnal need flashed dangerously over his eyes. With a growl, you found yourself losing the rhythm you’d built as Dutch forced his own, pulling you down onto him at a much more brutal pace.

You cried out, Dutch hissing through his teeth as his features scrunched. “Oh, yes,” he said approvingly, “I finally get to hear your pretty song.”

The more noise you let spill from your mouth, the harder Dutch gripped your flesh and used your body for his enjoyment, the two of you slippery and still yearning for more. You wanted it so bad it hurt, your abdomen burning up as his cock fucked you further and further into a state of euphoria. It was just you and him, able to be animals of your own accord, nobody around to tell you it was wrong or immoral.

But that was why you liked it. This older, mature man saw the value in you, grew almost obsessive at the thought of your body and the back and forth in your mind slowed every time he showed you just what you did to him. You clouded his judgement; you were worth the risk. You had him panting, pulling your body to his as he claimed all that you were. He had the same effect on you, you supposed.

Dutch shifted in his seat, digging his feet into the bottom of the tub to try and get further in, to fuck you harder, deeper. “Fuck, darlin’ -” he moaned, tailing off almost into a whimper. “Oh my, my girl. You feel so good. So good.”

His babbling praise filled your ears, seeped into your skin and fed your very soul. Making him lose his well-practised control only heightened your lust. You whined, feeling over the flexing muscle of his shoulders and holding on for dear life. At this rate, you wouldn’t be surprised if you floated right up into the stars above.

“Shit, I can’t -” he grunted strenuously, “I’m gonna, sweetheart, I’m gonna -”

And he did, pulling you as far down onto his cock as he could and dropping his head to your chest, his thighs twitching beneath you as he filled your pussy to the brim. You cradled his jaw, laboured breaths leaving the pair of you as he looked up with those dark eyes of his. He tutted at himself, muttering an apology and you chuckled as he brought his thumb to your clit, rubbing across it and pressing down at just the right moment.

His teeth attacked your neck, and you knew he’d leave a mark but screw it – regardless of anything you couldn’t deny that you were his. It felt too good, his cock and his fingers and his lips exploring every avenue of your body. “Come, darlin’,” he said lowly, his voice hoarse, “let me feel you come on my cock. That’s it. Good girl, come on -”

Your toes curled and your eyes tightened shut at the feeling that shot through you, a hot wave of shock that buzzed into your appendages. With a moan of relief, you dropped your forehead to press against his, still feeling the after-effects of your orgasm. “That was so -”

Dutch hummed in agreement, and you were glad he understood.

Tenseness turned to relaxation as you melted into him, and your body felt weaker and more fucked-out than it ever had. Dutch’s big arms wrapped around you when you rested your head on his shoulder, and you could happily fall asleep right there – even if it did mean you’d look like a prune come morning.

“I think someone’s ready for bed.”

“Oh no,” you yawned, “I’m full of energy.”

Dutch snickered, and you groaned when he shifted, but he shushed you gently. “Just sit there for five seconds, darlin’.”

You did, begrudgingly, and watched him step out of the hot tub and find his shorts from the floor, pulling them up before turning off the hot tub. Then he reached in and took you in his arms, cradling you as though you were his most prized possession. It was a fair trade, and you wrapped your arms around your neck as he walked into the house and carried you into the bedroom.

“Now, tell me, you don’t exactly want to get this bed all wet, do you?” you raised your brows at him suggestively, and he shook his head in mild disapproval. “Bad girl. You know that’s not what I meant.”

“No,” you gave in, “I don’t.”

“Right. So, I’m gonna stand you up here, wipe us both down with a towel, and then we’ll get comfy. Deal?”

“Deal,” you parroted, leaning in to press your lips to his.

Dutch followed up on his end of the bargain, gently dragging the soft towel over your skin. You climbed into bed while he dried himself. He changed into some dry, charcoal grey shorts and glanced over to you. “Would you like your pyjamas?”

Your answer was a shake of your head, and his expression grew pleased. “Good. I’ll just be a second.”

He left to lock the doors and turn out the lights and then returned to climb in beside you, immediately pulling you into his chest and you wrapped your leg over his, attempting to get as close as you could.

“You’re a special girl,” he hummed into your hair, and it was the last thing you remembered hearing before drifting off.

This must’ve been on record for the most showers you’d ever taken in a weekend. Dutch had the expected reaction come morning to your nude form lying half-on him, and you didn’t blame nor begrudge him for it. The two of you were squeaky clean once again by the time you sat down for late breakfast Dutch had insisted on cooking for you.

“I wish we could stay here,” you said melancholily, leaning back in your chair and taking a swig of orange juice to wash down your food.

“Don’t tempt me,” Dutch agreed, resting his open palm on the table.

You placed yours over it and offered him a bittersweet smile, the unfairly quick passing of time feeling almost like a robbery of sorts. Here, you'd been away from your troubles and stress at university, and you'd been able to just be with him without worrying about who'll hear you. It was just what you'd needed. “Thanks for bringing me.”

“Of course. Fancy enjoying the view for the last few hours?”

With a nod you stood, and Dutch led you outside, taking a seat on the bench facing the outstretched scenery and you took a sit on his lap in turn. He lit a cigarette and you relaxed into him, glancing up at the hard line of his jaw while he pressed the smoke to his mouth.

It was so cliché, but god did he look hot while he smoked.

“I was wondering,” he began, “why don’t the lot of you live in the same flat?”

“We were meant to. But because I didn’t let the accommodation office know, nobody did.”

“You really are the good girl of the group.”

“Hardly,” you huffed, gesturing a hand to him.

“Touché,” he smirked around his next drag. “Will you next year?”

“Yeah, either merge our flats or rent a house. Whichever is cheapest.”

Dutch hummed. “That’s pretty close quarters.”

“Mhm. So you won’t be able to sneak into my room should you decide to come up again.”

With a laugh, Dutch gently ran his hand up and down your back. “I won’t need to if you agree to spend the odd weekend with me.”

“I will,” you relented.

“Promise?” he asked, and you pecked his cheek.

“Promise.”

End Note: Lemme preface this by saying I am not a professional on psychiatry or anything related to it, however, a common opinion about Dutch in the fandom is that he suffers with BPD or something similar. I agree, to the end that I had a family member with it and with a bit of extra research the symptoms do line up with Dutch’s personality. With this being a modern AU, I wanted to delve into how his life could’ve differed with the advancement of medicine and knowledge. That being said, I only have the internet to guide me so I apologise if any part of it seems inaccurate - please correct me if that’s the case! For that reason, I didn’t want to go too deep into it and be irresponsible, but I do love picking this man’s brain apart and it felt wrong not to address it at least a little. I’m not entirely sure how common it is for people with BPD or similar illnesses to reach a level of self-awareness like he does here, but I know it is possible in some cases, and with Dutch being rich it makes sense that he’d at least be able to get access to decent treatment. What we do know from R* is that Dutch struggled with being suicidal (if you haven’t played RDR1 or at least watched the scenes he’s in I highly recommend it) and it ties in well with his circumstance so again I wanted to touch on it.

#dutch van der linde x reader #dutch van der linde x f!reader #dutch van der linde #dutch x reader #rdr2 fanfic #rdr2 #fanfiction #my stuff

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dreamsister81 · 2 years ago

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"I think it was in '93 that Jeff came to our house for Christmas. My wife, our two young boys, and Jeff. He shows up a couple of hours late in the afternoon wearing a top hat and a fur coat. It was the first appearance of the fur coat; he had just purchased it. I think he had just gotten some money from Sony. He bought a top hat and this fur coat. I think the left sleeve was held together by safety pins. He appeared at our front door. Our sons Nick and Ben were one and three years old at this time. He was leaving later that day to England to visit people, visit some friends. He showed up at our house carrying an open, half-used Christmas basket which he had gotten for a gift from Columbia Records. This was his offering to the Christmas festivities at our house that day. There was a Christmas tree and he put the open basket, with half of the stuff in it eaten, under the Christmas tree, which I thought was really nice. He was sharing his booty. And I thought that was very sweet. That was just a great day, a lot of lying on the floor playing with the kids. He exhibited something that day which I had never seen before. It's late in the afternoon, now the television is on and Warner Brothers' Looney Tunes and Merrie Melodies cartoons were on and my three-year-old son was sitting on the couch. All of a sudden Jeff got up and stood next to the television, just to the side of it. He was word-for-word miming these cartoons, and these are some maniacal music and maniacal songs with extremely complicated rhythms to the soundtracks and the pratfalls. He knew every beat and every word. My son Nick, who always spoke very well, he kept looking at Jeff, and looking at the TV and looking at me, and this went on for a couple of minutes and Nick finally went, 'Dad, how is he doing that?!' And I said, 'I don't know, Nick. I don't know...Just sit down and watch him.'"-Steve Berkowitz from A Wished For Song

"Somewhere I might have a video. My sons Nick and Ben, are four and two, says Steve Berkowitz. "They would watch Silly Symphonies and Merry Melodies while Mom and Dad made dinner. Jeff was over, lying on the couch watching these cartoons with the kids, and then, all of a sudden, he is standing next to the television and mouthing all the words and music of the cartoons and acting them out and being silly. Nick looks at me and says, 'Daddy, why does he know that?'

"'I don't know why Nick, just watch him...'-from Jeff Buckley: From Hallelujah To The Last Goodbye

"We first met while he was staying with a friend in London during the Christmas holidays in 1992, at what was once the Dome cafe on the corner of Kings Road in London. He was a fairly penniless musician at the time, so I bought him lunch. The first meeting was almost like going on a blind date, not romantically, but we got on so well immediately. He wasn’t the most gregarious person, but we clicked and connected: we were similar ages and were both just starting out. I think we were in the cafe for about four hours.

"During that first meeting, he said to me that he’d never want to play an arena, and if I expected to make any money off him, I was talking to the wrong person. He loved playing small rooms, which is why when we met he laid down the gauntlet for me to find tiny venues for him to play. I remember him saying to me that when people are talking in a venue he would try to use their noise to become part of the song, so the whole thing would blend together. But the reality is that nobody ever did talk at his gigs. They were completely silent. People would listen and watch with their mouths open half the time."-Emma Banks of Creative Artists Agency, and Jeff’s UK live agent, via The Guardian, 8 Mar, 2016 (I believe the year was actually 1993, not 92 due to Berkowitz's anecdote above, Jeff was still with Rebecca Moore in 92 and naturally would've spent the holidays with her-though technically they could've sent him as a matter of business, but still, 92 would've been a bit too soon after he'd been signed, and it obviously makes more sense he'd go to London to meet with Emma that year as he was due to return in March of 94.)

Just before this trip, he had been to England for a week over the New Year, to visit Elizabeth Fraser, the singer with Cocteau Twins, whose voice, he told me, stopped him in his tracks. "It sounds like light," he said.-Dave Lory, from Jeff Buckley: From Hallelujah To The Last Goodbye (the trip mentioned would've been in January, 94, the start of the Sin-é solo tour) 📷 Merri Cyr/Nicola Dill

#jeff buckley #mylove #supremebeing #favorite #music #merry christmas

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jumblejen · 2 years ago

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We Were Always Going to End Up Together - Ch 15

Suptober 22, Day 15: Smoke

On AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/42237885/chapters/112204855

(Or read from the beginning: https://archiveofourown.org/works/42237885/chapters/106051008)

“You said Sam disapproved of Benny’s job?” Cas asked. He was watching Dean get dressed while sitting on his bed. They had decided it would be easier if Cas met Dean at his place and then they could go together to meet Sam and Eileen at the Roadhouse. Dean was trying to decide what to wear and Cas had been perfectly noncommittal about the options Dean held up. Dean was beginning to think Cas had forgotten they had someplace to go and was just enjoying ogling Dean shirtless.

“Yeah. He worked a bunch of part time gigs. Worked in a lot of kitchens, some pickup construction jobs when the local outfits needed an extra set of hands for the day. Sam’s always had white collar aspirations for both of us.”

“It seems like that was achieved.”

“I mean technically. I work a desk job, but Sam would prefer I was a bit more ambitious about corporate ladders.”

“Do you think it will bother him that I am unemployed?”

“Are you? I wondered about that. If he does, he’ll just have to deal with that on his own. Silently.”

“I’m not exactly unemployed.”

“Okay.”

“I’m surprised you haven’t asked more questions.”

“Well we kinda rushed the beginning of this thing and then we were having so much fun together. I only remembered I didn’t know when we weren’t together. And it doesn’t matter to me unless you’re crossing some serious ethical lines.”

“Like what?”

“Murder for hire? Intimidating old ladies into selling their property? TV evangelist?”

“I can assure you I am not doing any of those things.”

“Are you doing things that might be on that same sort of list?”

“No.”

“Well, that’s okay then.”

Cas sighed. “My dad died and left me money even though I hadn’t seen him since I was a teenager. I mostly live off of that. The corn maze thing…Gabriel did pay me fairly for the rental and my time. So I was employed in October.” “That sounds kinda nice. Not needing to work. When our dad died he mostly left us debts. Though I did get the impala, but that was before he passed.”

“Was it hard paying off the debts?”

“Sammy was in school still, so the timing wasn’t the best. I had finished my own degree with minimal debts, working way too many hours around all the schoolwork. I had been looking forward to getting Sammy covered and then Dad’s debts landed on top of me. It took me a few more years than I would have liked, but I paid off his debts and Sammy graduated without having to take out loans.”

“You paid for Sam’s schooling?”

“He got some big scholarships and had a work-study job, but I didn’t want him saddled with a bunch of debt so I just kept hustling to make up the difference. And all that’s in the past now anyway, so I’m down to working a typical 40 hours a week.”

“And Sam’s a lawyer?”

“Yup. He was always the one with the brains in the family.”

Cas frowned at that statement. “I think you are selling yourself short.”

“Yeah, well, wait ‘til you meet him.”

“Wear the purple one.”

“Yeah?”

“I like that one.”

“Alright.” Dean pulled on a black tshirt and then slipped on the purple plaid. The softness of Cas’ smile matched the softness of the flannel. “C’mere.” Dean pulled Cas to his feet and hugged him tight, kissing him softly. Cas kissed him back just as softly. Dean thought he could drown in those blue eyes.

Eventually they realized that they had better get going if they didn’t want to be late for meeting Sam. Dean tried not to worry about whether or not Sam was going to be judgmental. He ended up chattering at Cas for the entire trip, but Cas didn’t seem to mind, sitting there looking at Dean with a fond smile.

The Roadhouse wasn’t too crowded, which Dean hoped would lead to a relaxed evening for everyone. He hated that his palms were sweating as he opened the door for Cas (like a gentleman). It wasn’t hard to spot his brother’s tall frame folded up in a booth along the wall talking to Jo. Dean grabbed Cas’ hand and made his way determinedly towards his brother. Cas gave his hand another little squeeze in return.

Jo noticed them first and gave Dean a big hug as a greeting. He wasn’t entirely sure why he warranted that kind of affection when she whispered, “Dude, we gotta talk later,” into Dean’s ear.

“Hey Jo. This is my boyfriend Cas.”

Jo smiled even wider and shook Cas’ hand. “So glad you crazy kids worked it out.”

“Yeah, yeah. You’re hilarious.”

Jo sashayed off with an offhand remark about bringing drinks to the table in a minute.

Dean took a deep breath. “Hey Sammy. This is Cas.”

Awkwardly Sam leveraged himself out of the booth and held a hand out to Cas. “Good to finally meet you.”

Cas shook Sam’s hand firmly, “You too.”

“Where’s Eileen.”

Sam’s face lit up and Dean turned around to see Eileen headed their way, a smile lighting up her face.

“Hey Eileen. This is Cas.”

“Hi Cas,” Eileen said and signed. “Is it one S or two?”

To Dean’s surprise, Cas replied out loud as well as in sign, “One S. It’s a nickname. My name is Castiel.”

Dean could almost track the finger-spelling of Cas’ full name, but it was clear he was much better at this than Dean was. He definitely needed to practice more, especially since Eileen and his brother seemed fairly serious about each other. He should be able to sign if Eileen was going to become even more a part of the family than she already was.

“You can sign?” asked Sam after they all sat down.

“I learned in college and have made sure to keep up with it over the years.”

“Why?”

“Why what?”

“Why’d you learn?”

Cas tilted his head and squinted a bit as he responded, “To learn how to communicate with the deaf community?”

Dean glared at Sam. They hadn’t even gotten to personal topics and Sam was already treating Cas like some sort of interrogation subject instead of his brother’s boyfriend.

Thankfully, Eileen intervened, “I think it’s great.”

“Do you sign, Sam?” asked Cas evenly.

“I’m learning,” he said testily.

“That’s good,” answered Cas.

Dean got the feeling that Cas was going to take full advantage of being able to speak to Eileen without Sam necessarily understanding what they said.

Jo brought the drinks to the table, handing them around and taking everyone’s food order. Sam made a face at the burgers Cas and Dean ordered, haughtily ordering a salad with grilled chicken. He deflated a little when Eileen joined Cas and Dean on the side of burgers.

The conversation lightened as general getting to know you chit chat flowed, mostly covering Sam and his career, and Eileen and her career and how they met. Dean was happy to stick to interjected comments instead of being the focus of things. He had to admit, now that they were all together, Dean really enjoyed how well Cas seemed to fit here, like he was always supposed to be part of Dean’s life.

Of course it couldn’t last.

“So Dean said you two met at a haunted house?” Sam asked skeptically.

“Corn maze.”

“What?”

“It was a haunted corn maze.”

“Right, so did you scare him into asking you out.”

Dean was watching the pair of them like he was at a tennis match, although this seemed to be a much less friendly game.

“No, he abducted me.”

Dean had to try hard not to spray beer all over the table at the flat statement. He sputtered a response, but didn’t quite make words.

“What do you mean, he abducted you?”

“Sammy…”

“Dean grabbed part of my costume thinking it was his friend’s sleeve.”

“Then what happened?” asked Eileen, her eyes alight with good humor.

“We reached a quieter part of the maze and Dean turned around and saw I was not his friend at all and…”

“And that’s enough of that story!” interjected Dean.

Cas smiled and patted Dean’s leg under the table.

“So you were working at this maze.”

“Yes.”

“But it’s closed now.”

“Yes.”

“So are you off to be one of Santa’s elves?”

“No.”

Silence settled over the table. Dean could tell that Sam was trying to figure out how to ask what Cas did for work. He almost wished Sam would just ask, but if the way Eileen was staring at him meant anything, Dean guessed she had forewarned him not to make trouble about this.

“So Dean, do you think you’re going to get that promotion?”

Dean had to try very hard not to roll his eyes at Sam. Cas gave him another supportive squeeze. “Sammy, there’s no promotion.”

“But you’ve been in that job for years now. You have to keep looking for the next thing.”

“Why?” asked Cas in a quiet but steely voice.

“Why what?”

“Why does your brother need to do more than he already is?”

“Look, I know you haven’t known my brother that long, but he tends to ignore the bigger picture, doesn’t really have his shit together. I’m just helping him.”

“What bigger picture?”

“Dean can be…irresponsible. And then his family, I, have to clean up after him. This way I keep him on the straight and narrow…”

“Hopefully you at least noticed your brother isn’t straight.”

Sam blushed and stammered.

“And he seems to be living his life just fine. He has a home, a job, a car. And he seems very together.”

“For now,” muttered Sam.

Dean sat there as a very uncomfortable silence descended. He didn’t think he was that bad, and he was doing his best. But he liked his life the way it was. “Look, it’s fine. I’m still not going to try to manufacture a promotion opportunity where there isn’t one, but things are going well.”

“Dean, I just don’t want to see you settle for less. I promise.”

“I know Sammy. I know.”

The conversation moved on in a stilted unsatisfying way as the meal wound down. Cas was lost in his own thoughts and none of them seemed positive towards Sam. Eileen kept shooting pointed looks at Sam that he was clearly ignoring. Sam seemed perpetually on the cusp of starting an argument with Cas, or launching an interrogation. And Dean. Dean just wanted everyone to get along. The feeling that they were all meant to be together had not so much dissipated as cracked and shattered. It was times like this that Dean wished he smoked, just to have the excuse to leave the table and take a few minutes for himself. Not that he would abandon Cas.

Finally the meal ended, Dean paid the bill, goodbyes were said and Dean and Cas were again sitting outside the Roadhouse in the impala, minus the horny happy anticipation of the previous time.

“I’m sorry,” said Cas softly.

“For what?”

“I shouldn’t have been so direct with your brother.”

“You were fine. I wouldn’t want you to not be yourself. Defeats the point of you two meeting.”

“But you wanted this to go well.”

“Yeah, I did.” Dean sighed. “But there was always a chance it wouldn’t. And there’s always next time, right?”

“Can I ask you something?”

“Course you can, Cas.”

“Why do you let him talk about you that way?”

“What way?”

“Like you’re a screw up.”

Dean grinned without any warmth in it. “’Cause I am a screw up, Cas. Might not look at it from the outside, but…”

“But what?”

“Look, man. I dropped out of high school. Got my GED eventually. Got through an associate’s degree. Worked whatever jobs I could get, some of them less reputable than others. Had a lot of ugly bumps in the road romantically both before and after Benny. Some that ended up in legal trouble.”

“Dean…”

“No, look. Sammy never had any of that crap. And he just wants what’s best for me. To, you know, make something of my life. Trouble is, all I really knew I needed to do was take care of him. Now he’s grown and successful and even found an awesome woman to settle down with…not sure I know what my next move would even be.”

“I don’t think you need a next move.”

“No?”

“No.”

The silence in the car felt more gentle than it had just moments before. Dean just wanted to forget about the tension between Cas and Sam and have a little fun. “What if I wanna make my next move on you?”

“That was awful Dean.”

“Can’t help it.”

“Is this your way of changing the subject?”

Dean sat quietly for a moment. “Yeah it is.”

“Okay.”

“Do you want to come home with me?”

“You still want me to?”

“Definitely.”

Cas smiled and leaned over to kiss Dean on the cheek. “Then let’s go home.”

#destiel #suptober22 #fanfic #smoke #awkward family conversations #saileen

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carrotpiss · 2 years ago

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Oooouagh

#This is abt to be very cringe and embarrassing okay but I need to vent and I think all my friends are sick of me not shutting up abt this #Bc I christ its embarrassing #But anyway oh jeez am I bad at talking to boys oh jeez #R is really nice and funny and just chill to get along with-when im drunk #Minute were chatting sober I'm sweating bullets and it's the most awkward interaction on the planet #I hate I'm fully getting some big crush on a self described cishet tho even tho he's clearly curious at least about me like aouuuhh #This feels like such an L but fuck hes just. Really nice. And we have a ton in common #And fuck hes really hot #I remember trying to not look at him at the gig we technically met at bc I was immediately like oh no he's way too hot and clearly a dork #And that's like my kryptonite #I could tell he was semi trying to get my attention at that show but I was too busy trying to get Z lmao rip #crouch speaks #God dammit I just really wanna kiss him and its genuinely ruining my brain capacity

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the-case-book-of-fanfiction · 2 years ago

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Your Favorite's Here {pt. 3}

Ship: Eddie x fem!Henderson!reader

Summary: Eddie realizes how ridiculous it is to like a girl he's met once. He intends to change that—by meeting her again. And again. And again.

Word Count: 5,016

Warnings: fluff, suggestive ending, loving Eddie, friendly teasing, gentle kissing, brotherly disgust, consent is important to Eddie, no explicit smut (just really heavily implied with a lead up)

Note: After accidentally deleting this twice and having to rewrite it, then having technical issues with Tumblr, here it is! Part three is complete.

{part 1} // {part 2} // {part 3} // {part 4} // {part 5}*

*coming soon

☟ Continue below the fold ☟

Eddie didn't show up at Everett's on Thursday. You waited the entirety of your eleven hour shift for him to stroll through that door. You pictured him strutting in with his hands in his pockets and that adorably bashful smile on his face, searching you out from the other green-clad servers, but it didn't happen. Your heart sank when you locked the front door and went out the back to your car, with no sight of Eddie all day.

You heaved a sigh as you flopped into your car. You put your head back and closed your eyes. "It's only been a week. It's fine. He'll come by sometime soon."

Or you're imaging that he's as into you as you are him and Dustin is quite possibly yanking your chain and—

You groaned at the cynicism of your own thoughts and turned your car on. These were worries for tomorrow's you, not the you who had been on your feet all damn day and was awake only because of the caffeine you'd consumed for the past three hours. You'd get some sleep and think about Eddie's no-show tomorrow morning.

Besides, it wasn't like he'd promised he'd come back. It was just...wishful thinking.

~❊~

Eddie felt awful. He'd been hyping himself up to go see you at work on Thursday all week—only to remember he had to practice with the band for the gig the next day.

Eddie flicked his pencil aimlessly across the desk in Gareth's garage, where he'd been moping for the past twenty minutes while the band took a break.

"Oh, c'mon, man," Jeff said, offering him a bottle of water. "You'll see her. I doubt she expects you to show up right away."

"Yeah, yeah, I know, it's just...I wanted to go."

"You could go tomorrow, before the show?" Jeff suggested.

Eddie shook his head. "Nope. I'm at the shop, there's a busted up Chevy I gotta fix."

"Alright, tomorrow, after the show, we'll go again," Gareth promised. "You can tell her how much you hate us for stealing you away to practice and to perform all day today and tomorrow."

Eddie looked up from his pencil, trying to discern if Gareth was being sarcastic or not. "I don't hate you—"

"Yeah, we know," Gareth said. "Hurry up and drink your water. Keep those vocal chords rested so you can actually talk to your girl tomorrow night, alright?"

"She's not my girl yet," Eddie complained.

"Yet," Gareth said, poking his chest. Eddie blushed at the slipup and swatted his friend's hand away. He gulped down his water and picked up his guitar, muttering something about getting back to practice that one tricky spot in a song for their show tomorrow.

~❊~

When the show was over on Friday night, Eddie wasted no time hurrying out of the bar and kicking the band out of his van and into their houses, insisting he wanted to talk to you alone—despite Gareth's teasing that he would need moral support to even open his mouth.

He went home and took a shower, washing off caked-on makeup and sweat. He hated to admit it, but he was preening more than he ever had before for a girl.

Eddie looked at himself in the mirror for a few moments, with only a few hours to spare before Everett's closed, and pointed to himself. "Do not. Mess. This. Up," he said sternly to himself, then pushed his hair out of his eyes.

He did the same thing in his rearview mirror as he sat in his van outside of the restaurant, hyping himself up. "You got this you got this you got this you got this you got this," he muttered to himself as he got out and went up to the door. "You got this." He yanked the door open.

The hostess was the same as last time. "Back again so soon?" she asked with a smile. "And alone?"

Eddie smiled weakly. "I, uh...yeah. Yeah, I like th-the food here, and, um, it's a nice...atmosphere..." He trailed off, his cheeks growing warm. He shifted his weight from one foot to the other.

The hostess leaned in conspiratorially. "Don't worry, she's been looking forward to seeing you just as much."

Eddie's head snapped up, his breath catching in his throat. "She—she has? Y/N has?"

"Complained all last night that you didn't show. Come on—I'll sit you at one of her tables."

The hostess led him to a table for two near to the booth the band had been sat at. She passed him a menu. "She'll be over soon."

Smiling nervously, Eddie nodded and thanked her, taking the menu. He perused it briefly before hearing a small cough from next to him. He looked up.

And there you were, almost exactly the same as last time—but if he wasn't mistaken, you were wearing different rings and a different necklace. And your hair was a little different.

And, good God, you were smiling at him. A soft, happy smile, a smile that was mostly in the eyes than in the mouth.

"Hi," you said, and your voice was barely above a whisper.

"Hi," he repeated, just as hushed.

You pulled your lower lip between your teeth to bite back a larger smile. Eddie could hear his heartbeat in his ears. You took the time to stare at each other, as if trying to come to terms with the fact that the other was really there, before Eddie broke the silence.

"I like what you did with your hair."

Absentmindedly, you reached up to touch it. "You do? I mean—" You coughed, bringing your hand back to your pen and the checkbook. "What can I get for you, Eddie? Something...stronger than water, maybe?"

"Sure. Bring me whatever your favorite is."

You raised your eyebrows. "You want my favorite?"

"Someone's favorite drink says a lot about them," Eddie said.

"And do you want to know more about me?" you asked, though it wasn't really a question.

"Of course I do," he whispered.

Your lips twitched. Eddie realized he desperately wanted to see a full blown smile from you and really wished you'd stop trying to tamp them down.

"I'll be right back with your mystery drink," you said. "I'll barely be a second and then we can—" You stopped yourself with a cough. "And then I can take your order." You hurried to the bar, head down to hide some of the pink on your cheeks. He watched, his mouth falling slightly open when you glanced back at him, rubbing your neck with embarrassment.

Eddie really, really wanted to know what you'd been about to say.

~❊~

You nearly knocked over Eddie's drink twice while trying to make it. Your hands were trembling something terrible. He'd come alone to see you. He'd come alone to see you. The hostess, who was also a longtime friend of yours, had said he'd been looking forward to seeing you. So why did he look so composed and suave when you felt like the butterflies in your stomach were trying to fly up your throat?

"Get it together, girl," you told yourself, squeezing your hands into fists to calm yourself.

"He's here, then?" asked the other server under her breath, making a drink beside you behind the bar.

You nodded. "Table 218."

Both of you gazed across the restaurant to the table where Eddie sat, peering at the menu with a slowly growing smile on his face. He glanced toward the bar and did a double take at the sight of you watching him. You looked down quickly, then back up, only to see him give you a little wave. Shyly, you returned it.

"Oh, just date him," your coworker sighed.

"That's what I'm trying to do," you reminded her. You finished making the drink and placed it on a tray, heading for Eddie's table. You set the glass in front of him and tucked the tray under your arm. "Here you are, sir."

He raised his eyebrows. "We went from 'Eddie' to 'sir' in the span of five minutes, what did I do wrong?"

You giggled. "Absolutely nothing, Eddie."

The two of you shared a long glance. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw one of your other tables raise their hand for the check. You cleared your throat.

"Have you...have you decided anything to eat yet?"

"What time do you get off?"

You started to write his response down, then blinked, only just realizing by the time you had written what time do you g that that was not an item on the menu. You met his gaze as you slowly crossed it off and he— Oh, he giggled. It was a pure, genuine giggle. It was like bottled joy. It was the sweetest sound you'd ever heard.

"I don't think that's—"

Eddie grinned. "I'll go with your favorite thing on the menu."

Your face relaxed. "Is this another way to get to know me?"

"Well, I have to know where I can take you out to eat later, don't I?" he said with a sly smile.

Warmth flooded your body. You shuffled on your feet. "Are you willing to stay until midnight?"

He looked at his watch. "Oh, don't worry, I'll flirt with you long enough to stretch a thirty minute meal into an hour."

Your legs were wobbly as you walked to the other table to give them their check.

~❊~

"Well," said Eddie, turning to look at you in his passenger seat. "It's not as good as Everett's, but, uh... It's okay, right?"

You sipped the milkshake he had bought you with a grin. "It's perfect, Eddie."

It was just the two of you in his van, sitting in an empty parking lot at two in the morning, drinking milkshakes. It was by far the latest and most unconventional date you'd had, but you found yourself enjoying it. It was nice to sit in the quiet with Eddie.

"Really? I mean, it's great and all, that you like the stuff I like at my favorite drive-in, but I mean, you're used to, I dunno, better quality food, I guess? Like, Everett's is all—" He made a grand jazz gesture with his hands. "And this place isn't much better than The Hideout, which is so dingy of a bar they let a band of high school graduates be their Friday night entertainment—"

You settled your arm a little closer to his as you put your milkshake down. "Eddie," you said, serious, "I'm enjoying myself more than I have since I came back to Hawkins."

He whistled under his breath. "Wow. I don't think your brother would be happy to hear that."

You elbowed him. "Don't you dare tell him. Look, don't get me wrong, I love my brother. I have fun with my brother. But it's nice to have someone my age that I feel so comfortable with." You glanced at his hand, covered in all its rings. "You know, I think I've laughed more with you in one evening than I have with my coworkers all summer."

"I think you need funnier coworkers."

"I'll be happy with my coworkers as they are just as long as I have you," you said, stretching your pinky toward his. You both stared at anything but your hands as Eddie shifted his hand closer to yours. Your pinkies linked and your breath faltered.

"Y/N. Can I... Can I hold your hand?" The words came out slowly, as if he wasn't sure they were the right ones.

"Yes," you said, voice hushed.

Gently, he snuck his hand underneath yours and laced your fingers. You looked at him with a smile. He beamed at you, and you were amazed by how beautiful he was.

"Eddie?" His gaze didn't move off yours as he hummed an acknowledgement. "Can I lean on you?"

He beamed and gave you a quick nod. You leaned into him and nestled your head on his shoulder. He slowly dropped his head onto yours and you hummed in contentment. He giggled sweetly and you squeezed his hand.

You were practically buzzing with warmth and joy for the next few hours, even as you and Eddie giggled and complaining about the brain freezes you got from drinking your milkshakes too quickly.

It was nearly four in the morning by the time Eddie realized out of nowhere "Oh my God, I have to get you home before your mother kills us both and never lets you go out with me ever again." You unhappily extricated yourself from him, but your hand didn't leave his as he drove up your driveway and stopped at your front door.

Dustin's bedroom light was on. He stood silhouetted in the light for a moment before he disappeared, undoubtedly to run to the front door.

Eddie hopped out and rushed to your side, opening the door and helping you out of the van. "M'lady," he said with a wink. You giggled.

You turn toward Eddie where you stand on your front step. "Thanks, Eddie. For everything. It was absolutely wonderful."

"I had a great time," he admitted.

"When can we...do it again?" you asked, unashamed to ask.

He grinned. "Absolute—"

The door flew open. Dustin was behind it, staring at the two of you. "You're late!"

You sighed and said to Eddie, "Time's up."

"Hiya, Henderson," said Eddie, with a grin.

"Did you have to keep her so late?" he groaned. "I'm tired!"

"Did you have to wait up for me?" you retorted, poking him in the head. "Go to bed, Dusty, I'll be up in a sec."

He narrowed his eyes between you and Eddie. "You're lucky it's not a school night."

You rolled your eyes and pushed him away and watched him head toward his room.

"Well. I guess you should go inside before he kills us," Eddie sighed.

You slowly stepped into your house. "Yeah...I guess so." You watched him start to go and then yelped, "Eddie!"

He turned as you stepped back out and threw your arms around him. Almost without thinking, you pressed your lips to his cheek. His breath caught in his throat. "Did you just— You did. You...kissed me."

"Don't act so surprised," you breathed. "I've wanted to do that since I set eyes on you."

"Just that?"

"No," you admitted, "but that's for another time. Good night, Eddie."

"Night," he said, his mouth crooked into a smile. You waved as you shut the door behind you. You fell against it, giggling to yourself, and then traipsed into the bathroom to finally change out of your work clothes.

~❊~

A horn blared outside for the fifth time.

"I'M COMING!" Dustin yelled out the window, and you giggled. The last month of summer had arrived, which meant you'd upped your hours to make as much as you could before heading back to college. You had less time than before to see your not-quite-yet boyfriend, which meant the twice-a-week dates had been cut to a few minutes at a time on the days when Eddie drove Dustin somewhere.

Today was one of those days, and Dustin was running a little late. So you were hanging off the side of Eddie's door, one of his hands in both of yours.

"Someone's gotta teach that kid to be on time," Eddie sighed, his tone light.

"Says you," you teased. "How many times have you been late to pick me up for a date? Six?"

"No, it's four," he said. "I know because I always feel bad."

You lifted one hand to brush some of his hair out of his face. "You don't have to. I still love you."

The words were still new, and Eddie beamed like it was the first time he'd heard them. You had a feeling he always would. "You love me," he murmured. "I love you, too."

You leaned through the window to kiss him. The kiss was just slightly older than the "I love you"s—exactly 47 seconds older. The first time you and Eddie had kissed (romantically at a midnight picnic with candles in his trailer), he'd chased it first with an "I love you" and more kisses. You'd only been able to say it back when he finally pulled away to breathe.

Eddie slipped a hand behind your neck and cradled your head for stability. You gave a pleased hum and looped your arms around his neck, relying on him to keep you steady.

"EW!" Dustin yelled as he walked out the door to the sight of the two of you. "C'mon, man, that's my sister."

Eddie sighed as he pulled away. "First of all, this is kind of your fault. Second of all, shut up." He turned back to you and kissed you again, despite Dustin's continued criticisms from the passenger seat.

At last, you pulled back. "You're going to be late if you stay here much longer, Eddie Munson."

"You know, I don't care all that much anymore," he said, grinning lazily.

"I care," snapped Dustin.

You glanced over Eddie's shoulder. "You behave, Dusty." You pointed to Eddie. "You, too, mister."

"When have you known me to not behave?" asked Eddie.

"Troublemaker is your middle name, love," you reminded him. "Now get going. I don't want to hear from Steve again about how you two are always late to everything when Eddie drives."

Eddie looked mildly offended. "He says that?"

"Yes," you and your brother chorused.

Eddie glanced at the clock. "Hold tight, little Henderson, we're going twenty above the speed limit the whole way there."

"Don't die, please," you reminded him.

He looked at you with the softest gaze you'd ever seen. "C'mere," he said, pulling you close for one last kiss. Dustin pretended to vomit next to him.

"You can see me later," you mumbled against his mouth.

Eddie's eyebrows shot up. "You're not working?"

"For once, no. I've got the evening off."

"Can we go out?"

"Duh. Now go have fun with the guys. I'll be here when you get back." You kissed his cheek one last time and waved goodbye to them as he peeled out of your driveway and sped down the road.

~❊~

You knew the boys were back immediately, hearing them before you saw them. You paused the fifties rom-com you'd been watching and got off the couch. Before you could make it to the door, it burst open and in waltzed not just Dustin and Eddie but Dustin, Eddie, Steve, Mike, Lucas, and Will.

"I was not expecting this many of you in my house," you said, blinking at them all.

"Steve finally won a game of D&D! We have to celebrate!" Dustin said gleefully, jumping up and down next to him.

"Wow, guess he's a good sub player for Erica then, huh? Is she feeling better, Lucas?"

Lucas shrugged. "Yeah, but Mom still won't let her out of the house. I think she likes being pampered. They give her everything she wants. They never do that when I'm sick!"

You giggled and made your way into Eddie's arms as the other boys took their places on the couch. "How'd it go?"

Eddie kissed the side of your mouth. "It was a good end to the campaign. Ended perfectly."

"And now you're going to make an even more complex one for the next game, right?"

He grinned. "Oh, you know me so well, sweetheart."

The pet name went straight to your heart. You smiled as you kissed him. Your tongue brushed his and he melted into your arms, squeezing you tighter. You reached up to push his hair behind his ear and cup his jaw.

It was suspiciously quiet behind you.

You leaned your shoulder into Eddie's chest as you glanced behind you to see the others. They were collectively staring at the two of you.

"Mind your business," Steve said to them, prodding Lucas into turning around. Dustin sighed and picked up the remote. Mike and Will exchanged a glance before bursting into a fit of giggles.

Eddie tugged on your sleeve. "Should we, uh, get out of here?"

"Where to?"

"My...trailer?"

Realization hit you. "You mean..."

"Only if you're ready, I mean, I'd never do anything you don't want me to do—"

"Let's take this conversation away from a bunch of teenage boys," you suggested.

"Oh, uh, right." Eddie put his arm around you. "Hey, Steve! Keep an eye on the nerds, we're gonna go out for a while."

Steve grinned. "I got it all under control."

"Thanks, Steve! You're the best brother ever!" you called as you headed out the door.

"Hey!" whined Dustin.

"Adopted! Adopted brother! Not really adopted but you get my point!"

"Best babysitter!" Eddie corrected and slammed the door shut behind the two of you, before Steve could start complaining. You hopped in his van and turned to him, putting a hand over his before he could start it.

"Okay, okay, okay. Back to that conversation. Yes, I'm ready. Are you ready?"

"Yeah," he said, voice breathy. "I have everything we need, I think it'll go...it'll go smoothly. Um. But if you don't want to, we don't have to, I don't want you to feel pressured or anything—"

"Eddie."

"Hmm?"

"I want to."

Eddie started to grin. "Great. Great. Um. I'll, um." He got distracted as he started the van and slowly crept out of the driveway. "Drive us...there..."

You giggled and kissed his cheek. He held your hand the whole way there, then helped you out of the van. He pulled you close to his side on the way into the trailer.

"I...I don't want to just...jump right into it, if that's alright with you," he said. "Kinda wanna...I dunno, set the tone? Get in the mood?"

You kissed him and pulled him down next to you on the couch. "Movie?"

He visibly relaxed. "Good idea." He got up to put something on, then sat down next to you. You cuddled close to him, wrapping your arms around his waist like you always did for movie night. Eddie hummed appreciatively and played with your hair. It took you a moment to realize he'd put The Great Gatsby going.

You curled up next to him. "You know, my mom always watches this movie for the "hot guys" in it, but I don't find the appeal of any of them."

Eddie snorted. "That's because your taste in men is me."

"Yes, yes you are," you agreed, kissing him gently.

He cupped your face in his hands, pulling you close. He put your foreheads together. "How'd I get so lucky with you?"

"I could say the same thing," you whispered against his mouth. You kissed him slowly, lifting one hand to his jaw and wrapping the other arm around his waist. Eddie melted into your touch and your mouth, unable to stop a smile from crawling onto his face. He pushed one hand through your hair and broke the kiss to nuzzle into your neck. Despite the number of times you'd made out with him—even in front of other people—he always turned into an embarrassed, blushy, cuddly mess when it was just the two of you.

Eddie gently kissed the skin where your neck and shoulder met. "I love you so much," he mumbled into you, wrapping his arms around your waist.

You smoothed a hand over Eddie's unruly hair. "I love you, too, my darling." You took his chin and gently navigated his gaze toward yours. "My darling," you repeated, the moniker said at barely more than a mumble, but still he beamed like you'd declared in front of all of Hawkins that you had laid claim to the social outcast without a care in the world.

Eddie buried his head into your chest, hiding from everything but your affection.

"You still wanna wait a bit?" you asked, still rubbing a hand over his scalp. "Or...?"

"Wait," he said. "I'm not..." He laughed. "This is gonna sound weird, but I'm not entirely in the...the mood yet."

You pecked his cheek. "Let's watch Gatsby make a fool of himself, then. And you let me know when you're ready."

Eddie hummed and reached around on the couch to drag a blanket across the pair of you. He wrapped his arms around your waist and snuggled his head into your shoulder. You kissed the top of his head and pulled him closer to you, keeping your arms locked around his shoulders.

"Comfy?" you asked, as Nick's opening monologue began.

"Mhm," said Eddie. "Always with you."

You kissed his head again. "Oh, you beautiful sap."

You can feel him grin as he buries his head into you once more.

~❊~

Eddie had the worst possible timing, perhaps ever. The fight between Gatsby and Tom was breaking out when Eddie finally lifted his head from your chest and stared up at you. Despite your attention being on the movie, you noticed when Eddie pressed his lips to the column of your throat, more gentle than ever. Your eyes fluttered closed as he slowly moved up, using two fingers to tilt your head up. He kissed along your jaw, stopping before reaching your mouth. You sighed contentedly and opened your eyes as his lips left your skin.

"Why'd you stop?" you mumbled, reaching for him as he sat up.

"Need a better angle," he muttered, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. "I wanna see your face."

You cooed, taking one of his hands and lacing your fingers together. "My sweet boy," you murmured, nuzzling into him. He held you close to him for a few moments before he laid you back against the couch and kissed down your throat. Your breath caught as Eddie pressed a kiss in the hollow of your throat. "Eddie..."

Eddie pulled back, holding your face in a hand. "Let me love on you, sweetheart. Just a little."

"No protests from me," you sighed.

"Just tell me if you don't like something, okay?"

"Okay," you whispered, kissing his soft mouth once before he ducked down again.

He kissed your collarbones and glanced up at you as he gently pulled you closer to him. He kissed across your shoulders and moved slowly down your chest. He reached the low neckline of your shirt and looked up. He toyed with the hem of your shirt.

"Sweetheart?"

You nodded, knowing what he was asking. "I'm ready, love."

Eddie surged to his feet and hauled you up into his arms. You squeaked and hooked your legs around his waist. You kissed his throat and jaw the entire way to his bedroom, returning the sweet kisses he'd been giving you. He mumbled incoherently, but you thought you heard a few "thank you"s and "I love you"s in amongst the soft babbling.

He gently lowered you onto his bed, brushing some of your hair out of your eyes. He stared lovingly down at you, placing a gentle kiss to your lips. He left you to close his door, then reappeared above you, bracing himself on either side of your shoulders.

You reached up and ran a finger along his cheek. "Hi."

"Hi," he said. He smiled, that dreamy smile that was usually reserved for the times when he admired you when he thought you weren't looking. "I'm so in love with you. I fell in love with you the instant I saw you."

"Love," you cooed. You brought a hand behind his neck, coaxing him to your level. "I saw those pretty eyes and that sweet face and loved you."

Eddie's smile was a happy, bashful one as he pressed your foreheads together once again. "I'll love you forever."

"Forever," you agreed. "I love you, Eddie Munson."

His mouth connected to yours. You let your eyes flutter closed and revelled in the way his lips parted slowly, the way his tongue gently prodded your lips, the way he was still so slow and careful when you opened them for him, the way he painstakingly explored your mouth.

You let out a dejected noise the instant Eddie pulled away. "I'll be right back, sweetheart, just..." He gently put a hand on your side. "Can I...touch you?"

"Wherever you'd like," you whispered. "Just gentle. Slow."

"Gentle and slow," he repeated. "Got it."

His mouth returned to yours and his hands caressed you, his fingers circling every centimeter of skin. He slipped a hand underneath your shirt and met your gaze.

"You're okay," you promised, before he could even get the question out. "You can."

"I can take it off?"

You pecked his cheek. "Only if you let me take off yours, too," you teased and Eddie beamed. He let you pull his shirt from his shoulders, then helped you out of your own. He gazed at you with a sappy, pretty smile on his lips.

"Just gonna stare, pretty boy?" you asked.

"Nope," he promised, leaning back down. "Lie back for me. I'll take care of you, as best as I can." He kissed your stomach and took note of the way your breath hitched, both visibly and audibly. "I promise." His hand went to your hip. You nodded. As he hooked his fingers underneath your waistband, he repeated, "I promise."

"Just a second," you breathed, sitting up and reaching behind you for the clasp of your bra. Eddie reached behind to help you.

Three muffled shots startled the both of you. Your mind raced for a few seconds before you remembered—

"Well, I think Gatsby just got shot."

Eddie laughed. "Well, if that's not the worst timing—"

"Hey, you started this while Gatsby and Tom were arguing over who Daisy loves more and Daisy had her breakdown, so I could say you have the worst timing," you teased. You kissed his nose and he stared at you with heart-melting puppy eyes. "Hop to, love."

Eddie pulled your undergarments away from your body. "Don't rush me," he mumbled against the skin of your stomach as he kissed lower and lower. "I intend to take my time with you."

He sent you a mischievous grin.

☞ ❊ ☜

Stranger Things // Eddie Munson // Part 3 of 'Your Favorite's Here'

Taglist: {comment and let me know if you'd like to be added to the E.M. taglist!} @ohatropa @lilylilyyyyyy@spencestyles@r-royce@theshiresposts@kaitebugg03@the-chocoholic-writer@noiralei@kennedyraye@yourdailymemedelivery@squidscottjeans@cannonize @sebastianstvn

#eddie munson #corroded coffin #eddie x y/n #eddie munson x reader #eddie stranger things #au stranger things #part 3 #dustin henderson #waitress #part 3/5 #stranger things #joseph quinn #rockstar eddie munson #mechanic eddie

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movedtodykedvonte · 2 years ago

Text

Jack & Sammy Headcanons

Okay so like if Jack said not to Joeys offer I 100% believe Sammy would’ve thrown Joey to catch up with Jack walking out the door.

Met when they were in their late and mid teens

Sammy is the younger one by 4 years but everyone thinks Jack’s younger cause he’s more laid back

Jack offered Sammy a place to live after finding out this really talented kids was couch hopping (he was too young to be rented to but lacked the social skills to ask any band members to be a roommate)

If asked Sammy insists that he moved in cause Jack needed some order in his life but was actually just super grateful to sleep on a bed between gigs

Jack is more protective of Sammy due to Sammy being a bit more “eccentric” and it’s easier to play into those and take advantage of him

Sammy is the more creative one while Jack is more technical actually, though this only applies to their craft

Jack is like Sammy’s social guidebook as Sammy doesn’t get how to talk to people outside of work or music stuff

Sammy returns the favor by being Jack’s fire (Jack gets upset but he’s an avoider, Sammy will bite)

Adhd and autism solidarity

They shared an office before Jack relocated to the sewers. Sammy was very hurt by this but let Jack have his space

Taught Jack the the violin after Jack mused about being able to still accompany Sammy when he was resting his voice

Sammy doesn’t like pickles, Jack eats the pickles off his whopper (Jack also hates pickles)

Most of there fights are about how each overstep unintentionally

Sammy doesn’t like that Jack is always straightforward with him or brings him into social settings he knows Sammy won’t be 100% comfy/knowledgeable in (bad at parties and galas, not a showboat like Jack)

Jack gets frustrated when Sammy gets closed off and nippy with either him or people that are just trying to help. Wants Sammy to understand to get better with people he has to be uncomfy sometimes.

Sammy doesn’t like to be 100% alone rather be left alone with people around, Jack luckily understands this

Sammy never learned to cook so that’s Jacks job (sam can make like pasta and eggs)

Sammy cheats on the chore chart cause he hates doing the dishes, Jack let’s him

Bi and Gay solidarity

Are so close they have like tells when each other are getting tired, upset or nervous about something

Jack starts readjusting his hat a lot and puts a hand on Sammy’s shoulder Sammy literally just shuffles closer and closer into Jack until he’s practically on top of him (literally pushes my partner until we are out the door)

Sammy doesn’t sing a lot as it calls too much attention on him, of all the studio Jack’s the only one with the bragging rights of hearing his voice (team Sammy would’ve been a killer Alice Angel /j)

Jack didn’t talk to Sammy for a week after Sammy said he was being a distraction cause that’s like the biggest Sammy insult there is

When Jack disappeared Sammy spent a lot of his after hours looking through the studio and scouring the tunnels despite the dangers

Felt guilty cause he was involved with Joey, knew what was going on and didn’t tell Jack which could’ve prevented him from going missing

Became way more irritated and mean after Jack was gone, people pretended not to notice a change (unspoken rule was to not mention Jack and Joey knew better than to suggest hiring another lyricist)

The ink along with other things promised Sammy it’d bring Jack back if he listened

After the ink sometimes Sammy tries to carry Jack back up to their office so he can chill in the pool outside the door, sadly he’s too heavy/slippery

They remember each other and Sammy gives Jack a pass on being a heretic

Sings a lot more in the ink for Jack as Jack can no longer do so

Sammy hangs out on level 2 despite the village cause he still like to be by himself but not alone, Jack still understands

They deserved better. Shout out to these two ill functioning music men

#do some of these imply jammy? yes #do i ship it?#also yes #but I still like it keep it inconclusive #jack fain #sammy lawerence #bendy and the dark revival #batim #bendy and the ink machine #batdr #batim headcanons #jammy <3 #my tag for the good jammy ship #saw someone call it coffecake #which is also much better #coffeecake

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wonderlandleighleigh · 3 years ago

Note

joel finds out ab midge and lenny and joel acts like joel

(giving this one an M rating for some of Joel's saucier thoughts lol)

His parents have a New Years Eve party at their house in Queens, and Midge shows up at eleven o'clock with a date.

"Sorry I'm so late! I had a gig," she says, kissing her parents, and saying hello to Joel's parents and Mei and the other guests Shirley had roped into this thing.

The date hangs back. Tall and good-looking. Dark-haired.

"Mama, Papa, you remember Lenny." Midge says, smiling hopefully.

No fucking way.

No.

Joel's ex-wife has brought Lenny fucking Bruce as her New Years date.

How the fuck-what the fuck-

"Lenny!" Abe cries. He sounds so friendly. "Good to see you more on your feet than last time."

"Yes, thank you," Lenny says, having the good sense to look sheepish. "That was a very confusing morning, but I've finally recovered."

How the fuck does Abe know Lenny Bruce?

"Lenny and I were arrested together one time," Abe supplies without prompting, and Moishe looks deeply impressed.

"Why don't I get you kids some drinks," Shirley offers before flitting off.

Lenny gets dragged into a conversation with Abe and Moishe and Joel can only stare in deep, deep shock.

Lenny and Midge.

Midge and Lenny.

How long has this even been going on?

"How are the kids?" Midge asks him, and he stares at her as if she is a completely and utter stranger.

Midge looks gorgeous, of course. Black dress and perfect make-up. Her hair is a little out of place from the snow (unless his ex-wife was making out in the back of a cab with Lenny Fucking Bruce), but otherwise she looks as beautiful as ever.

"Hello?" Midge asks, concerned. "Earth to Joel Maisel."

"What?"

"Our children?" Midge asks. "They still exist, correct?"

"They're upstairs," Mei provides, stepping over. "Asleep."

Midge smiles gratefully. "Thank you. I think Joel died or something."

Mei snaps in his face, and he wrinkles his nose.

"I'm not dead!"

"If he were, he'd make a very interesting case study for my classes," Mei says. "How was your show, Midge?"

"It went really well!" Midge beams.

Does she smile that way for Lenny Bruce?

What else does she do for Lenny Bruce?

That thing with her tongue, where she-

"Drinks!" Shirley calls, shaking Joel far, far away from that thought.

Midge takes her. "Thank you."

"So how long have you and Lenny been together?" Mei asks. "He's handsome."

Joel turns to stare at his girlfriend. The traitor.

"A month?" Midge ponders, before turning to the man himself. "You! When did this whole thing start?"

"You and me?" Lenny asks. "I don't know. Back of the police cruiser, Steve Allen or Miami?"

They're speaking an entirely other language, and Joel feels his head spin a little. They speaking the language of a couple who knows each other far too well.

"Officially about a month," Midge supplies. "But we've been dancing around it since earlier this year when we met up in Miami."

Joel's mind goes haywire at all of this, and before he can stop himself, he's grabbing Midge by the arm, dragging her into the empty kitchen.

"Ow. Joel."

"Lenny fucking Bruce?"

"Joel-"

"You're dating Lenny fucking Bruce? You brought Lenny fucking Bruce to my parents home?"

Midge takes a breath, and lets him get all of this out of his system. She doesn't try to fight, she doesn't try to explain herself. Technically, Joel knows she doesn't have to. He's with Mei, and they're not together, but he just can't stop the anxiety train.

"What the hell, Midge? Why'd it have to be him, huh? You couldn't find some other other coworker to fuck?"

"Oh, wow," Midge says, taking a step back.

"You had to go for the guy I actually idolized. Go fucking figure."

Lenny steps in then, putting himself between them. "Far be it from me to stick my nose where it doesn't belong-"

"It doesn't belong," Joel snaps. "We were having a conversation."

Lenny thinks about that, and then turns to Midge. "Were you having a conversation, or was he just berating you for doing something he doesn't like very much?"

"Door number two," Midge says quietly. "But I got this. Go let my father talk your ear off, and I'll be in in a minute."

"You're sure," Lenny checks. "Because he's short. I could probably stuff him into a garbage can or something."

Joel sees red, but holds himself back from taking a swing at the guy.

"That's very tempting, but I'm sure," Midge says. "Go."

Lenny nods, eyes Joel one more time, and then steps back out, leaving them alone once more.

"Okay," Midge says softly once he's gone. "However you feel about Lenny? For now at least, he and I are together. So that's something you're going to have to deal with. No, I did not 'go for him' because of you. He and I met, and we've known each other for a couple of years, and things...happened. So we decided to try something more formal, which is why I brought him tonight."

"But-"

"This is my life," she cuts him off. "Mine. You stopped getting a say in it when you left. You left, Joel, and the consequences of that choice is still the same. Namely that you have to sit back and watch me live and maybe even fall in love with someone else."

They stand there in silence for a long moment, and Joel can't meet her eyes.

"Do you love him?" he asks.

Midge shrugs. "I'm still thinking about it. Maybe."

They leave it at that, both of them going back into the living room, and Midge steps over to Lenny, sitting down next to him silently. Joel watches him take her hand as he keeps talking to Abe.

He watches them the entire night, much to Mei's annoyance, and eventually, as he's leaving the bathroom, catches them standing by a deserted window, watching the snow together. Lenny's arms are wrapped around Midge, and they're talking quietly.

"Seemed like a pretty bad fight."

"It's just Joel," Midge sighs softly. "I'm okay."

"You know, we coulda just gone to another club, rung in the new year with a bunch of drunks," Lenny offers. "Skipped this."

"We had to rip the band-aid off at some point," Midge shrugs.

"Well," Lenny says, kissing her temple. "Happy fucking new year."

She laughs softly. "Happy fucking new year, Lenny."

Joel grits his teeth. It's definitely love.

#fic #au #tmmm #Midge/Lenny #Joel why

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loveelle · 4 years ago

Text

Winners and Losers

Luke Patterson x Reader

Request by Anon: Luke x reader?? Two rival singers make a bet “who can get the other to fall in love first” by acting like a couple... too bad they realize there both in too deep.

A/N: Thank you for your request! I hope I did alright with it? I kind of strayed a little at some parts, but then I remembered that I had a request to write and brought it back, so I hope you enjoy. Please send me more requests and some feedback?

WC: 4K

---

“Y/N!”

You jolted in your seat, spilling your cereal all down the front of your shirt as you sat up alert. “What?!” you groaned, pulling your now soaked shirt away from your body. Alex walked closer to you as he laughed, clutching his stomach. You glared at him. “You’re not funny Alex.” Grumbling, you picked up your now empty cereal bowl, frowning at the mess of your favorite cereal now spilled on the floor. “We live here together. You’re cleaning that up.”

Alex scoffed. “No, I’m not.” He smirked, falling on the couch and hugging your pillow. With a sigh you retreated to the kitchen, putting away your dishes and grabbing the cleaning supplies. You ignored Alex as you cleaned up.

“What do you want?”

“Why aren’t you ready?” he asked and your expressions turned quizzical.

“Ready for what?” you asked him, moving towards your room as he followed, keeping on your heels and arriving at your closet before you could.

Alex groaned, grabbing your favorite top off a hanger and tossing it at you. It hit your face as you pulled it away, trying to throw him a glare but he was already turning around, leaning his head against the wall for you to change in peace. “You promised you’d come to see me perform tonight, remember?”

“Crap.” You whispered out, pulling your wet shirt off and putting on the new one. “I mean, I totally remembered.” You told Alex, tapping his shoulder. He rolled his eyes at you and turned around to lean back on the wall. “Give me 5 minutes and I’ll be out.”

“You got it.” He said, leaving you to grab all the things for tonight. Alex had invited you almost a week ago to watch him perform at the Hollywood Ghost Club, a new gig he got thanks to his boyfriend. You were excited for him, knowing how much this opportunity meant to your best friend. As soon as you were done getting your things you walked back out to the living room, seeing Alex flipping through the channels on the TV. “Finally!” he huffed out, pretending to be more upset than he actually was. You faked a smile at him, locking your arms as you left your house.

“Hotdog!” Willie yelled as Alex and you walked into the club. He was talking to the club owner as Alex waved at him, a small blush on his cheeks and you elbowed him playfully in the side. Willie jogged your way, giving Alex a hug and you let them have their moment, glancing around the club. “Hey Y/N.” Willie said, giving you a much shorter hug than he gave Alex.

“This place is awesome, Willie.”

“I forgot this is your first time here, I’m glad you could come.”

“I couldn’t pass up on the chance to see this guy perform.” You offered Alex a smile but he was busy looking at Willie and Willie at him. You took that as your moment to leave. “Well, I’ll leave you in capable hands.” You patted Alex’s back, pushing him towards Willie as you ducked out of there, looking about the tables.

There were quite a few that were already full, couples and friends sharing conversations as you walked past. You were about to take an empty table before your eyes landed on a particular one in the front where a pair of boys sat and you smirked to yourself, walking slowly their way.

“Is this where the talent sits?” you broke the already made conversation as you slid into the empty chair. Luke and Reggie’s head snapped your way, Reggie with a grin and Luke whose face fell when he saw you.

“What are you doing here, Y/N?” He asked, crossing his arms in front of him.

You smiled at him and gestured to his sleeves. “I see we’re still going with the sleeveless look?” you joked, earning a small laugh out of Reggie who quieted after the look Luke sent him. “Come on Patterson, you know I wouldn’t miss Alex performing.”

“I meant here, at our table.”

“Oh!” you clapped your hands together, picking up a menu that was laying in front of you. “Well, that’s just for fun.” You smirked, avoiding looking at him.

Luke and you had an interesting relationship. You both have known each other for years, not nearly as long as you knew Alex but still a long time. You two considered yourselves rivals, two different artists signed with two different labels. Most people wouldn’t have such a competitive relationship, but you couldn’t help admit it was quite fun knowing you could get under Luke’s skin like no one else. You prided yourself on it.

Luke and Reggie continued their conversation, talking about the club as Reggie let you joined in. The conversation started normal, but it soon turned to Luke and you smart mouthing each other as Reggie watched on amused.

“You two are crazy.” Reggie murmured under his breath and laughed. You and Luke stopped your argument, looking at Reggie who was busying eating.

“We’re not crazy.” You countered.

Reggie met your gaze, quirking a brow at you. “Oh yeah, sure you’re not.” He agreed. Your jaw fell and you shared a look at Luke, seeing him in the same state. “I don’t know how you two do it, but you’re only ever crazy with each other.”

You didn’t have a counter for him this time, neither did Luke because the truth was Reggie’s right. You were only like that with Luke, you couldn’t explain it.

Luckily you didn’t have to because Caleb Covington, the club owner, walked on stage with his showgirls. You sighed, crossing your arms and falling back into your chair as you listened to Caleb talk. Alex, as well as the rest of the musicians, took the stage. He shot you a look, seeing you with Luke and Reggie but you just smiled at him and watched as the show began.

Alex was killing it, just like he always did as you cheered him on nodding your head along and singing under breath to Caleb’s song. You turned your head, prepared to see Reggie and Luke enjoying the music as well but when you looked at Luke you quickly noticed he was rather distracted by one of the dancers who made their way into the audience.

You laughed, pulling his attention off the girl and onto you as he clenched his jaw and let his brows furrow. “What’s up with you?” he asked as you shrugged.

“Nothing.” You turned back to Alex with a smile on your face. Luke scoffed, obviously not believing you as he scooted closer to hear you.

“No, tell me.”

You bit your lip, looking back at him in amusement. “Your friend is on stage playing the drums and you’re looking at the girls?” you quipped. Luke stuttered as he took in what you were saying, getting defensive as you laughed again. “It’s okay Luke, I get it.”

“Get what?” You looked at him for a minute, watching him squirm under your gaze as you slowly smiled. “I don’t like that look.” He groaned out, narrowing his eyes as you leaned forwards on the table, coming close to him and putting your hand under your chin.

“You gonna talk to her afterward? Work that,” you gestured your hand towards his face, “Luke charm of yours?”

He pushed your hand out of his face, holding it against the table as he sat forward as well. “What Luke charm would that be?”

Letting out a chuckle you looked around the room, seeing several people looking at the two of you with starstruck expressions. “Come on Patterson, you’re not oblivious. You’re famous, girls swoon at the sight of you.” Luke glanced down to the table, at your hands still technically touching as he hid a smile. “If you asked that girl on a date, she’d say yes.”

He met your eyes again, a small glint in his as you pulled your hand away slowly. “What makes you think I want to ask her out?”

“Why wouldn’t you?”

“She’s not my type.”

“You have a type?” your cocky remark was met with an eye roll as Luke couldn’t stop smiling.

“Do you?” He countered and you shook your head.

“Since when we’re we talking about me?”

Luke shrugged, taking a sip of the drink in front of him and avoiding looking at you. “We weren’t, but at least the girl would fall in love with me.” He knew he was most likely wrong, but the satisfaction the sentence brought him made up for it.

However, the laugh you let out and the way you threw your head back made him narrow his eyes. “Oh please.”

“You don’t think I could?”

“I wouldn’t subject that poor girl to that torture.”

“Fine, but I bet I could make you fall in love with me.” The air left your lungs at his words. You didn’t have a response to that, no comeback or remark.

If you had to guess, you probably looked like the physical embodiment of a loading screen. “W-what?”

“I bet I could make you fall in love with me.” He repeated as if it was the simplest idea ever.

You looked to Reggie, seeing him no longer paying attention to the show but of you and Luke. Your eyes widened slightly at him, asking him silently for any idea what to do but he put his hands up, not letting himself get involved.

You cleared your throat. “And why would I subject myself to that torture?” you took a sip of your drink quickly, hoping it can calm the sudden bout of nerves hitting you.

It was Luke’s turn to laugh. “Well, how about an actual bet? Whoever can get the other to fall in love first wins.”

Reggie who was still fascinated by the event unfolding in front of him choked on his drink. You both looked at him, Luke patting his back as you tried to focus on helping him but you could get Luke’s deal out of your head. You didn’t know why he offered the bet, but you weren’t the type of person to turn one down.

The music in the club ended as the three of you were brought back to the real reason you were here tonight, Alex. He stood up, holding his drumsticks in the air as he smiled brightly. You cheered for him, clapping and hooting as Luke and Reggie did the same. As Alex began leaving the stage, you turned to Luke and stuck out your hand.

“You’re on.”

---

“You did what?” Alex’s voice boomed from your living room as you grabbed two bottles of water from the kitchen, heading back to him.

“It’s just a bet, Alex. Nothing to get worried about.” You tossed him the bottle. Alex shook his head at you, shocked you’d even take Luke up on something like this.

“What do you get out of it?” You took a sip of your water, trying to think.

“I don’t know, the knowledge that I win?” He glared at you, unimpressed with your answer. “I don’t know, Alex!” your laugh was defensive and you knew it.

“What if,” Alex began and turned his body to face you, “What if you agreed to this because you possibly might have feelings for Luke?” You blinked several times and stared at him, trying to piece how he managed to get there. Leaning forward you pressed the back of your hand against his forehead. “What are you doing?”

“I’m trying to see if you have a fever because I think you might be delusional.” He rolled his eyes, pushing his hand out of his face, and stood up.

“I’m serious.”

“Yeah, so am I. Are you feeling okay?” Alex threw his arms in the air and started pacing, something you’ve learned in the years living with him that he wasn’t going to stop any time soon. You settled into the couch, pulling out your phone and starting to scroll through Instagram before you saw a notification pop up.

@LukePatterson tagged you in a photo

“What the?” you muttered and clicked on the notification. Alex moved behind you to look as you saw a photo of you tonight smiling and in the caption was a heart. “What is he doing?” you whispered and Alex was behind you laughing, having to leave the room from laughing so hard.

You pulled up Luke’s contact immediately and pressed call. It rang twice before he picked up. “Hello there.”

“What was that post?”

You could hear him laugh through the call. “Part one of making you fall in love with me. Figured it would probably be a good idea to be a couple, don’t you think?”

“Why didn’t you talk to me about that first? I mean Luke, I have a career to think about. You have a career to think about! You can’t just drop relationship announcements like that, especially if they’re not real!” You ran a hand through your hair letting out a little sigh at the end. Luke was silent and your stomach sank, you knew he was just trying to win the bet, not trying to put a dent in your careers. You both might be rivals in the public’s eyes, but Luke wouldn’t do that. “Besides,” you said to break the silence, “Posting a picture when I look like that is only going to make me fall in love with myself, Patterson.”

Luke laughed again and you felt calmer knowing he wasn’t cursing himself out in his head. “Touché Y/L/N.” he muttered and you barely heard it over the phone. “Hey, tomorrow be ready at noon.”

“What for?”

“Our date.” You expected more from him, an explanation or what this date entailed but all you heard was the call ending as you pulled the phone from your ear.

You had to admit, the smile that tugged your lips was hard to ignore but you did. Heading back to Instagram, you found yourself on Luke’s post again, leaving a like and a heart emoji in the comments before seeing lots of Luke’s fans had left comments.

Most of them were surprised by the pairing as they should be, a few of them thought it was a joke, and a couple comments sprinkled in believed it to be a career move and fake- a way to combine two of the hottest new singer-songwriters. You groaned at them but had to admit, they were kind of right. It wasn’t a career move, but it was 100% fake.

However, you couldn’t pull your eyes away from the support you and Luke got, something you never thought you’d receive. It was overwhelming, to say the least. You turned your phone off, sitting in the silence of the living room before a text came through from Luke.

Goodnight ♥

You laughed to yourself as you realized goodnight and possibly good morning texts were going to be his move. Smart move Patterson.

You sent one back.

---

The constant sound of your alarm pulled you awake, much to your detest as you turned it off and yawned. It had been a week since you and Luke made that bet. 7 days of good morning and goodnight texts, some of which you had managed to send first, surprising Luke. You went on a couple of dates if you could call them that, to cafes, the beach, even a double date with Alex and Willie. Luke had been pulling out all the stops and you had to admit, you were impressed.

The only hard part about this week was you were in the middle of recording some songs and it had been non-stop in the recording studio all day, the last couple of days being the longest. Luke noticed, of course, seeing how you were extra tired texting and would just facetime him instead when you were making dinner. Neither of you knew what to talk about at the beginning of the week, but as time went on it became easier and more second nature.

You opened your door to a dark apartment as you got back from the studio today, much later than you were planning, but home nonetheless. “Alex?” you called out for your housemate only to see a note taped to the wall telling you he was spending the night with Willie. You sighed and dropped your bag on the floor when your phone rang.

You let out a whine, not wanting to deal with talking to anyone as you pulled it out. Luke’s name and picture lit up your phone as you hesitated a moment before answering the facetime call. “Wow, you look beat.” Luke said as soon as you answered.

You glared at him through the screen. “Thanks. That’s just what every girl wants to hear after a long day.”

He snickered at you but offered a sad smile as he laid back on his bed, resting his head on his bent arm. “You just get home?” he asked and you nodded, shrugging your coat off. “How’d it go?”

“Same as every other day, but we’re closer to finishing recording.”

Luke smiled again, watching you through the phone screen as you put away all your things. “What are your plans tonight?” he asked and you shrugged.

“Eh, probably watch a movie and fall asleep while watching said movie.”

“Alex going to join you?”

You shook your head and propped your phone up in the kitchen. “He’s at Willie’s for the night.” Luke went silent as you moved to grab a cup and fill it up with water. You glanced back to him, seeing him thinking and looking off-camera. “Luke?”

“Give me 15 minutes.” He said before ending the call. You stood there confused, staring at the black screen of your phone.

“Okay then.” You muttered to yourself, pocketing your phone and getting ready for your solo movie night. You changed into your pajamas and curled up in your blanket on the couch, flipping through your movie choices as someone knocked on your door.

You furrowed your brows, trying to figure out who would come over this late and the only person you could think of was Alex. Your feet padded against the ground softly as you approached the door. “Did you forget your key again? I’d thought you’d be gone the rest of the night.” You called through the door as you unlocked it, pulling it open to be met with a smiling Luke.

“Not Alex.” He said and pushed past you.

“Come in, I guess.” you joked as you turned around, seeing him jumping over your couch to lay on it. “What are you doing here, Luke?”

He grinned up at you. “It’s date night.” You put your hands on your hips, pursing your lips at him. “So, what are we watching?” You relented, falling back on your spot as Luke controlled the remote, flipping through the movies until he found one that interested both of you.

It started playing as you cuddled into your blanket, throwing a glance to look at Luke whose arm was draped over the side of the couch. You kept staring at him as an idea popped into your head. Scooting closer to him, you settled into his side and covered both of you with the blanket. Luke glanced down at you, freezing at your contact before relaxing and pulling you closer. He tried to focus on the movie again, but he couldn’t stop looking at you. The side of your face was illuminated with TV light and every few seconds he saw the hint of a smile on your face as something funny happens on screen. Realizing he was smiling himself at the sight of you, he put his eyes on the screen and refused to look away, not even when he felt you fall asleep on him.

You woke up hours later to warmth underneath you, an arm around your waist pulling you close as your eyes widened. Carefully, you turned your head to see Luke asleep with his head resting on the couch. He looked comfy and he felt soft and you couldn’t help but admit that the sight caused your heart to flutter. You hated yourself for it, but you shifted and buried yourself in Luke’s side, falling asleep again in his comfort.

---

Things seemed to escalate from that night Luke accidentally spent at yours. You began to rely on him more, spending most of your nights now watching movies and cuddling on the couch. The next morning however you’d always curse yourself out, remembering that this all started as a bet of who could fall in love and you would rather give up your music career than admit you were losing this bet. It had been a month. A month of Luke and you trying to make each other fall in love as well as convincing the public you were dating.

The public however seemed to love it. Reggie took it upon himself to post on your or Luke’s Instagram any time he caught you both being overly couple-y. You wouldn’t tell anyone, but any time he did you’d watch the videos he’d post over and over again, thinking what if it was real.

You didn’t know Luke was going through the same dilemma. After the night you fell asleep on him, he couldn’t stop thinking about you and he didn’t want to admit it either, but he was starting to think he might actually lose this bet.

The two of you were supposed to have what you considered your millionth date today at the Hollywood Ghost Club, right where it all started. Alex was playing again, as well as Julie, who you hadn’t seen in forever.

Luke and you showed up together, seeing a lot of fans taking your photos as you smiled at each other, never quite used to the attention. Sitting at the same table as the first day you were here, you sat closer to Luke, giving room for Reggie, Flynn, and Nick to join you. You all chatted like old friends, hating the fact that it had been so long since you spoke with everyone’s busy schedule. Not even noticing Luke’s arm draped over your shoulder, you were mid-conversation with Flynn as Caleb begun.

Cheers went through the crowd as the music started and you watched your friends perform. You were enjoying the show before your eyes caught sight of blue feathers moving in the audience, making you turn your head to see none other than the same girl Luke had been looking at before the bet was made. Your stomach dropped as your stare snapped back to the stage, trying not to let yourself overthink. Luke’s arm felt heavy on your shoulders as you slowly looked over to him. His eyes, however, were already on you.

The music in the club seemed to fade in your ears as Luke held your gaze. It was at that moment that Luke realized something he should’ve long ago. “I lost.” His eyes flickered down to your lips as you gasped, not expecting Luke’s declaration. Luke grew worried as you stayed silent. You licked your lips, trying to figure out what to say. He let out a shaky breath, pulling his arm off your shoulders. “I-I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said-“

“I lost too.” You cut him off before cupping his check and pressing your lips to his. Luke kissed back immediately, his eyes closing and his hands pulling you closer. You melted against him and your heart was beating fast as your free hand tangled in his hair before you pulled back.

With your eyes looking into each other’s, your cheeks heated up as the crowd started clapping at the performances end. You laughed at yourself, avoiding the smirking looks of your friends when you cheered for Alex and Julie who despite being on stage, didn’t miss your kiss.

The cheering died down as you leaned into Luke’s side, seeing Reggie look pleased with the both of you. “So I take it you both lost.” He asked, tugging on his leather jacket out of amusement.

You and Luke shared a look before he addressed Reggie. “I’m dating her.” He said and your smile returned. “I think I win.”

#Luke Patterson x Reader #Luke Patterson imagine #Luke Patterson #Julie and the Phantoms #Julie and the Phantoms imagine #Julie and the Phantoms fanfiction #Jatp x reader #Jatp imagine #Jatp #Julie and the Phantoms x reader

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yourlocalfictionalenthusiast · 3 years ago

Text

IN LIFE, IN DEATH...

PART SEVEN

:Masterlist:

Warnings: none, I think :)

A/N: ahh we’re getting dangerously close to Unsaid Emily territory, folks. Also idk if I’ve said this before but feedback is always welcomed and appreciated! <3

“This isn’t gonna work.”

You said as you watched the boys practice their apology song for Julie for the dozenth time. Alex just glared at you in response as he crouched behind Luke, and you tried to contain your laughter as the side gate clicked open and Julie walked into the studio.

Reggie immediately burst into song and Luke followed, then Alex popped out from behind Luke’s back. Once the song was over, Julie stared at them with a blank expression.

“In case you missed it,” Reggie said. “We’re really sorry.”

Julie sighed. “Yeah, I got that part.”

“Look, it wasn’t okay that we flaked on the dance,” Luke explained. “We know we let you down.”

“Yeah, we never wanted to disappoint you.” Alex said. “You’re the best thing that happened to us since we became ghosts.”

“In hopes that you’ll rejoin the band,” Luke pulled the poster out from behind his back. “We booked a new gig.”

Julie didn’t say anything as she ran her fingers across the paper. You could tell that she was still upset by the way she kept her eyes trained on it.

Reggie cleared his throat. “It’s a mind-blowing, life-changing gig.”

“There’s going to be all kinds of managers there. All we gotta do is blow their minds and we’ll be living the dream.”

“So this is important to you, huh?” Julie said, finally looking up at them. “Like the dance was important to me?”

Alex stepped forward. “We know we messed up.”

“But we need you in the band.” Luke finished and Julie rolled her eyes.

“Of course you do. Because without me, no one would be able to see you play.” Julie said, turning to Luke. “I thought the music we were making was special, but you’re too obsessed with your past to even care.”

“I do care!” Luke insisted. “We have a chance at greatness. I don’t want it to slip away from us again.”

“So then why did you bail on me and (Y/n) to get back at Trevor?” Julie crossed her arms as Luke stared at her with sad eyes. “I’ll tell you why. Because the only thing you care about is yourself.”

Luke glued his eyes to his shoes and Julie whirled around and marched back towards the house with the flyer still clutched in her fist.

“Luke-” You stepped towards him but he phased away, leaving the studio clouded in sadness.

“Where do you think he’s going?” Reggie asked.

“Where do you think?” Alex sighed. “Remember what today is?”

Even though Luke had never really cared about birthdays, you knew that his eighteenth was one he had been looking forward to all his life. Your heart broke for him when you realized that this was the way he would have to spend it.

You tugged his old jacket over your shoulders and looked towards the house. “We need to tell her.”

“About his mom?” Alex asked and you nodded.

“He can’t spend his birthday like this.”

Alex and Reggie both looked a little hesitant but nodded, following your lead as you poofed into the Molina’s living room.

Julie was on the couch, pouring over a textbook. She didn’t even look up when you all phased in front of her.

“Hey.” Alex approached her carefully. “Got a second?”

Julie kept her focus on the book and you sat next to her, using your best pleading look. “Julie, please.”

She finally looked up at you. “(Y/n), I already told you, I can’t be in the band.”

“I know.” You said. “But just, listen to us for a second, okay?”

Julie closed her book and set it on the table before looking at you all expectantly.

“Luke isn’t as selfish as you think.” Alex said and Reggie nodded in agreement.

“You remember that song in his journal? About Emily?” You asked and Julie’s eyebrows furrowed. “We wanna show you who it’s about.”

The Patterson house was almost exactly like you remembered it.

Dozens of memories swirled around in your mind as you walked up the pathway to the patio and crouched behind a chair. You could see Emily and Mitch in the window, Emily blinking tears out of her eyes as she frosted a triple chocolate fudge cake, Luke’s favorite.

And as if that wasn’t enough to break your heart, Luke sat on the counter with his head propped up against his knees.

“Emily is his mom?” Julie asked, her voice light.

“Yeah, he comes here a lot.” Alex said. “He thinks we don’t know, but we’ve been following him.”

You close your eyes as a pit of guilt opens in your stomach. You had been so wrapped up in your stupid feelings that you didn’t notice how much Luke was hurting.

“All he does is sit and watch them.” Reggie explained. “They don’t do much though.”

“They’re eating cake. That’s something.” Julie said.

“It’s a birthday cake.” You managed, avoiding everyone’s eyes as their heads snapped towards you. “For him.”

“And it’s even harder for him ‘cause he left on bad terms.” Alex said. “His parents didn’t want their seventeen year old in a rock band. So he ran away.”

You watched as Mitch lit a candle in the center of the cake and gripped Emily’s hand across the table. Luke leaned forward and blew it out immediately, making them share a look of confusion.

“That’s why Luke was so mad.” Reggie twisted his fingers. “If Trevor gave him credit for the songs, then they would’ve known that it was all worth it.”

“That his dreams were worth chasing.” You finished, another wave of guilt washed over you. You hadn’t been thinking about Luke’s parents when you fought with him about the old songs, and now you wished you could take everything back and haunt the hell out of Bobby.

Emily and Mitch blew out the candle again and Luke sank back into his chair, staring at his parents as tears streamed down his face. Julie sniffled next to you and more than ever, you wished you could hug your friend.

Alex stood up. “We all know how much it hurts when someone who should’ve had your back completely lets you down. We never meant to make you feel like that.”

“We love our band, and Luke does too.” Reggie said. “Please give us another chance.”

Julie took one last look into the window before she nodded. “Okay.”

You all shared sad smiles and you cleared your throat. “Well, then I think we have a gig to rehearse for.”

As you walked back into the studio, you couldn’t stop thinking about your fight with Luke.

How it must’ve felt for him to feel like you weren’t on his side when he was just trying to make his parents proud. You had been so caught up in your feelings of him ignoring you and being late to the dance that you didn’t stop to think about how he was feeling.

“Actually, guys,” You walked over to the couch and shrugged Luke’s old jacket on your shoulders. “Start without me. There’s something I have to do.”

“Oh?” Alex teased. “I wonder what?”

“And if it has anything to do with our birthday boy.” Reggie finished, wiggling his eyebrows.

“Do you guys want to die again?” You said and they both raised their hands in surrender. “I’ll be back soon.”

They just smirked at you knowingly as you felt yourself poof away into your old bedroom.

It was exactly the way you had left it.

Old pictures and countless band posters plastered all over your walls, a messy bed, and clothes everywhere. It was like time had been frozen in here, and as you looked around, it almost felt like you were alive again.

Like at any minute, your mom would walk in and kiss your cheek. Or there would be a soft knock at your window and it would be Luke sneaking over for movie night.

But then reality came crashing back in when you looked over to your dresser and you spotted the thing you had come for.

It was a small, dirty shoebox covered in faded stickers. You were thankful that your mom must’ve recognized it as something important and didn’t throw it away. No doubt she remembered helping you dig it up in 1995, just days before the Orpheum show.

You looked down and smiled at the words carved on the surface of the lid in Luke’s handwriting,

Luke and (Y/n)’s Time Capsule!

Open on 18th birthday :)

You snorted, realizing his writing was exactly the same as when he was six. You wiped the surface of the box off with your sleeve and tucked it under your arm. Technically, you weren’t meant to open this until you were eighteen, but also, you were technically dead, so you figured your six year old self would forgive you.

With one last look at your old bedroom, you poofed away from your house and into the studio’s loft where you quickly tucked the shoebox behind an old guitar case before making your way down the ladder.

Julie’s voice floated through the air and you joined in, taking your spot next to her on the piano bench. She gave you a teasing look and you jokingly glared at her as the song ended and Luke suddenly phased into the chair across from you.

“Julie?” He asked, stunned. “What made you come back?”

“I realized that music is important to all of us.” Julie shrugged. “We’ve already lost so much, we can’t lose this too.”

Luke nodded, a trace of a smile on his face. “Thanks.”

“Oh, and happy birthday, by the way.” She said and Luke smiled as he grabbed his guitar. “Let’s go from the pre-chorus.”

Alex started the countdown.”1...2...3...4!”

You looked over at Luke, expecting him to be looking down at his guitar as he played but his eyes met yours. He winked as he came closer to sing with you, making you laugh. As he stopped in front of the piano, you realized that while it sucked, being a little distant from Luke had it’s advantages.

At least then, you didn’t have to pretend that every little thing he did made your heart skip a beat.

“Knock, knock.” You called out from behind Julie’s bedroom door, pulling Reggie’s arm back from inside the room.

“Come in.” She said and you all walked through the door.

“What are you still doing up here?” Luke asked when he saw her snuggled up in her bed. “We go on in like twenty minutes.”

Julie sighed. “I lied to my dad so I’m stuck in here all night.”

“But we were just at the venue.” Alex said. “It was packed with people and managers. It’s kinda crazy.”

“My aunt is right downstairs.” Julie crossed her arms. “There’s no way I can get past her.”

Luke scoffed as he walked over to the window and pulled it open. “Well, it’s a good thing that you’re not taking the stairs.”

Julie’s jaw dropped, looking at you all with wide eyes. “I can’t sneak out!”

You sat down on the bed across from her. “C’mon, Molina. Live a little.”

Her eyes went back and forth between you and the boys hesitantly but she eventually gave in with a mischievous glint in her eye. “Okay. Let’s do this.”

By the time you all got to the venue, it was even more packed than before.

Every table was full and you could tell by their clothes that they were definitely in the music business. Your attention was pulled to the stage when upbeat music started playing as Carrie started to sing.

You turned to talk to Julie but then there was a bright flash on stage and Alex landed in the middle of the dancers. Julie looked around confused, but you just laughed as he followed Carrie around the stage and copied her moves.

You laughed and cheered for him. “Woo! Go, Alex!”

As the song ended, he posed and bowed before poofing back to your group with a pink tint on his cheeks. “I was just doing that for you guys.”

Reggie snickered. “Uh-huh. You can stop smiling now.”

Julie watched Carrie leave the stage with a conflicted look on her face. “I’m not gonna lie, that was pretty good.”

Flynn nodded. “Yeah, I kinda forgot why I hate her so much.”

As if on cue, Carrie came strutting off stage and laughed as she looked Flynn and Julie over. “Hey, girls. Isn’t past your bedtime?”

“Now I remember.” Flynn said with a stiff smile.

Carrie looked over at Julie. “If you’re looking for Nick, he didn’t come.”

More than ever, you wished someone could see you purely so you could give her the finger. Being a jerk for no reason was bad enough, but taunting Julie about Nick was unfair.

“Actually, that’s not why I’m here.” Julie said as she took a step closer.

On the stage, the accouncer spoke into the mic. “Alright, looks like we have one more act tonight. ‘Julie and The Fat Ones’.”

Carrie and her group laughed and you turned to Luke, dropping your voice to a whisper.

“Okay, I know it’s not the right time. But I totally told you that would happen.” You teased, thinking back to that morning when you filled out the sheet and Luke insisted that his handwriting would be legible enough.

Luke scrunched his nose at you. “Shut up.”

You snorted as Julie walked up to the stage and sat in her spot behind the piano. She put her mic in the holder and took a deep breath. “It’s actually ‘Julie and The Phantoms’.”

When the crowd quieted down, Julie started to play the opening. The gentle piano bored some people and you watched as they turned back to their conversations. But then Julie started to sing and caught everyone’s attention.

“Hearts on fire,

We’re no liars,

So we say what we want to say.

I’m awakened,

No more fakin’

So we push all our fears away,”

You felt yourself getting more excited as it came closer to your cue. You hadn’t played for this many people since you died, and even though you were a little nervous, you were filled with a need to perform again.

“Don’t know if I’ll make it cause I’m falling down under,

Close my eyes and feel my chest beating like thunder,

I wanna fly, come alive,

Watch me shine!”

You all appeared on the stage and if people weren’t paying attention before, they definitely were now. You heard shocked gasps over the music and smiled, grabbing your mic and joining in on the chorus.

“I got a spark in me,

Hands up if you can see,

And you’re a part of me,

Hands up if you’re with me,

Now till eternity,

Hands up if you believe,

Been so long and now

We’re finally free.”

You watched as Luke walked over to Alex’s drum set, playing along with Reggie as you and Julie made it to the front of the stage.

“We’re all bright now,

What a sight now,

Coming out like we’re fireworks,

Marching on proud,

Turn it up loud,

‘Cause now we know what we’re worth,”

Luke settled back behind his spot and smirked, his hair falling in his eyes as he shook his head to the beat. You kept your eyes on him as he played, and Luke winked at you in response. Even though you hadn’t done it in forever, your on-stage flirting game was like muscle memory.

Before you knew it, the bridge came and Luke abandoned his microphone to share yours. You took it off the stand and leaned towards him. Behind you, Julie dropped out and your and Luke’s voices filled the venue.

“I got a spark in me,” You sang and Luke echoed your words.

“And you’re a part of me,

A part of me,

Now till eternity,

Been so long and now we’re finally free!”

Just like every other time you sang with Luke, the air disappeared from your lungs and someone hit the pause button on the world. Luke’s eyes never left yours and your skin tingled under his intense stare. You lightly shoved his chest and winked back at him as he went back to his microphone.

The bright lights flashed as Julie’s high note rang out and the song ended. The crowd instantly erupted in cheers and almost everyone gave a standing ovation as you bowed and phased away, making another wave of gasps and cheers run through the crowd.

You landed next to the coffee bar on the far side of the room and instantly saw Teddy, who was leaning on the edge of the counter with a smirk on his face.

“What, you’re stalking me now?” You joked.

“It was a complete coincidence, Gorgeous.” Teddy came closer and nudged your shoulder. “But a great one. Why didn’t you tell me that you could sing like that?”

“Like you’d believe me If I did.” You said as you laughed, still a little breathless from the performance. You could feel your friend's eyes on your back and you turned around. Alex and Reggie were standing there awkwardly while Luke crossed his arms.

“Ah, the famous bandmates.” Teddy smirked. “You guys were great.”

“Thanks.” Luke smiled stiffly at him before turning to you and gesturing over where Julie was talking to her dad. “Sorry to interrupt, but (Y/n), we should really go check on Julie.”

You tried to ignore the way that he was already wanting to get back to Julie made your heart sink into your shoes but you nodded and turned back to Teddy with an apologetic smile. “Bye, Teddy.”

You turned to leave but Teddy’s hand came up to grip your wrist. “Hey, uh, come to the diner tomorrow. There’s something I want to tell you.”

“Something bad?” You asked and Teddy sighed.

“I’ll tell you tomorrow. I promise.”

“Okay.” Despite the pit of worry in your stomach, for some reason, you trusted Teddy. “See you then.”

After you watched as Julie got steered out the doors by her dad, you phased into her room and waited for them to get back.

You couldn’t help but feel a little guilty. Sure, it was all of your idea to sneak her out, but you definitely encouraged her and now she was in trouble. As you waited, you looked around her room, admiring all the pictures and colors.

There were little paper butterflies hanging from the ceiling and you went to touch one, but then the door swung open and Julie came in.

She yelped but relaxed as soon as she realized it was you.

“I’m sorry.” You said. “I didn’t mean to scare you, or get you in trouble tonight.”

Julie shook her head. “Hey, it was my choice to sneak out. Besides, I’m not in trouble. I mean, I have to focus more on school and stuff but I’m staying in the band.”

“Thank god. I definitely couldn’t go back to a band of all boys.” You joked and Julie laughed before wiggling her eyebrows.

“Speaking of boys, don’t you have one to go give a birthday present to?”

“I wanted to make sure you were okay first.” You said.

“Thank you, (Y/n). But I’m good.” Julie smiled warmly. “Now go get your boy.”

“He’s not my boy.” You protested but Julie just rolled her eyes and threw a pillow through your torso. “Hey!”

Julie laughed as she picked up another pillow. “Get out of here or else I’ll do it again.”

“Okay, okay!” You giggled as you poofed away.

You landed in the middle of the studio and frowned when you realized that it was empty. You assumed that Alex was probably out looking for Willie and Reggie was probably with Ray or Carlos, but Luke was usually hanging around the studio this late.

“Hey.” A voice called out from behind you and you whipped around to find Luke leaning against the railing of the loft.

“Hi.” You cleared your throat. “You okay?”

Luke nodded and gestured to the empty air next to him, and with a flash, you poofed to his side. You could tell that he was still thinking about his parents from the way that his eyes lingered on the studio doors and the guilt you felt earlier returned in full-force. You wanted to say something, do something to make him smile.

“I got you something.” You said, trying to put on a bright smile as you crossed the loft and pulled the box from its hiding spot. “You probably don’t even remember this thing, but we did say we were gonna open it when we turned eighteen.”

Luke knitted his eyebrows in confusion but a look of realization flashed across his face when you handed it to him. Just like you were hoping for, he instantly brightened as he read the carvings on the top of the lid.

“Oh my god...” He said. “I can’t believe you dug this up.”

For some reason, you didn’t want to tell him that you really dug it up twenty five years ago back when you stopped being friends. It seemed almost too sentimental, and after finally getting Luke back, you didn’t want to scare him away again.

“All it took was an hour, and technically some property damage if you count my mom’s rose bushes.”

It wasn’t technically a lie, but it wasn’t the whole truth either.

Luke threw his head back as he laughed. “Oof, be thankful that you’re already dead or else she would’ve killed you.”

You snorted as you gestured from him to open the box. He carefully pulled the lid off and slid a little closer to you so you could both see inside. There were some random drawings and toys, but what caught your eye was a box of crayons in the corner.

“Wait,” You gasped as you picked them up. “Are these the crayons?”

“The ones that you stole from me on the first day of second grade?” Luke said, tucking his bottom lip between his teeth to keep from laughing. “Yeah.”

“Excuse you, they were mine to begin with.” You reminded him with a raised eyebrow.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” Luke smirked.

You cleared your throat as you stepped away from the railing and faced Luke.

“Hey, I just wanted to say that I’m sorry for not listening to you about Bobby. I just got so caught in up in memories of how we all used to be and stuff that-”

“(Y/n), hey,” Luke chuckled lightly as he reached over and grabbed your hand, the gesture immediately stopping your ranting. “Don’t be sorry. You were right. I mean, I’ll always be bummed that our old music is gone, but a friend helped me realize that we should focus on the future.”

He gently squeezed your hand and you laughed. “This friend of yours sounds pretty smart.”

Luke hummed. “The smartest.”

You could feel his calloused fingers on the back of your hand and it felt so familiar and warm. For once, the silence between you wasn’t uncomfortable or awkward.

“Thank you, (Y/n).” Luke said, his voice barely above a whisper.

You took a deep breath before responding with a soft smile. “Happy birthday, Lu.”

September 1994

“Sweetie, your shift is over.”

Cece said with a raised eyebrow as she watched you pour creamer and sugar packets into cups of coffee.

“I know and I know that I shouldn’t be behind the counter when I’m not working.” You smiled up at her before placing the coffee pot into its holder, practically shaking with excitement. “But I have band news and the boys will be here any second.”

You put lids on the drinks and set them on the counter just as the bell on the door chimed and Alex and Luke strolled in, followed by Bobby and Reggie.

“Okay, what was so important that you had to wake me up and drag me down here?” Alex complained as soon as he saw you.

“It’s barely ten, Al. When did you turn eighty?” You teased as you handed him a paper cup of cocoa. Alex just grumbled at you under his breath as they all sat down in front of you. “I’m sorry for interrupting your beauty sleep, but this couldn’t wait.”

“We’re listening.” Reggie said as he grabbed his coffee.

“Okay, so you remember that guy who saw us play at the beach a little while ago?” You asked and they all nodded. “Well, I called him and it turns out that he owns a club downtown.”

“Wait.” Luke perked up and Bobby leaned forward in his chair. “A club club?”

You nodded. “And he wants us to play there every weekend next month.”

Alex choked on his cocoa. “The whole month?!”

You nodded again and there was a minute of stunned silence as they all exchanged looks. You smirked as you took a sip of your coffee.

“Oh, and also, he knows the owner of the Orpheum. Apparently they used to go to college together or something. And he said that if we impress him next month, that he could maybe pull a few strings.”

There was another moment of silence before Bobby turned to you with a serious look on his face. “(Y/n), I could kiss you right now.”

“Gross.” You scrunched your nose and the rest of the boys laughed.

Luke, who had been bouncing in his seat a minute ago, suddenly looked serious as he jumped up and grabbed Bobby’s shoulder. “C’mon, Casanova. I’m starving.”

Bobby rolled his eyes but followed Luke over to the counter and started scanning the menu. Reggie whistled quietly, making you frown in confusion.

“What?” You asked.

“I think Lukey boy is a little jealous.” Reggie said and Alex hummed in agreement.

“What?” You asked. “He’s definitely not. But even if he was, it’s just Bobby. There’s nothing to be jealous about.”

“That doesn’t matter when you’re in love.” Reggie sang and you cleared your throat.

“I’m gonna give you three seconds, Reginald.” You warned and Reggie scoffed, but then got wide-eyed when you started counting.

“Uh-oh.” Alex snickered and Reggie scrambled to get up from his chair and run across the diner just as you got to three. You caught up with him in seconds and jumped on his back, making him sigh in defeat.

But before you could brag about winning, Reggie suddenly bolted towards Luke and Bobby with you still on his back. The action caused a surprised laugh to bubble out of you making Bobby look at the two of you in confusion.

“What did Reggie do now?” He asked.

“All I said was that (Y/n)’s in lo-” Reggie started but you quickly slapped your hand over his mouth.

“Nothing!” You said quickly.

Once everyone got their food, you all sat down and started scribbling ideas for the setlists. You could hardly focus with all the excitement coursing through your veins. Ever since the day you formed Sunset Curve, you dreamed of playing at the Orpheum with your best friends and you were finally almost there.

You looked across the table and smiled at Luke, knowing that he was thinking the same exact thing from the way he was beaming back at you. You just had to impress one club owner, and you could live out your dreams.

Together.

In Life, In Death Taglist:

@ifilwtmfc @instabull @wanniiieeee @tenaciousperfectionunknown @charliegillespiewife @merceret @itismeasmolpotato @lilostif16 @dangerouslyclose @iainttakingshitfromnobody @givemebooksorgivemedeath @sunsetcurvedotmp3 @askgeoff @mayleenicole5676 @puppy11148

JATP Taglist:

@caitsymichelle13

Let me know if you want to be added!

#luke patterson #luke patterson imagine #luke patterson x reader #Reggie Peters #Alex Mercer #julie molina #jatp fanfic

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mercurysnitch · 4 years ago

Text

1976 Guitar (200 follower celebration)

Summary: An Australian runaway walks into a London pub... and finds herself having a drink with the one and only Roger Taylor.

A/N: As promised, my little celebration piece. I actually started this after I hit 150 followers, but I put it aside because I wanted to work on other things, and then decided to keep it for my next follower milestone. Which ended up taking a lot longer than I was anticipating, but hey, we got here in the end.

Just fyi for clarity, the reader here is Australian, but living in London after finishing journalism training. Yes, even in the 70s London was full of runaway Aussies. But it must have seemed a lot further away in the days before instant messaging and video chat and free phone calls over the internet.

Title is from a Skyhooks song, recorded well after the 70s, incidentally. The bits in italics are lyrics from the song. This isn’t a song fic, and I honestly can’t remember why this is set in 1976 (I think it just sort of popped into my head like that) but those particular lyrics seemed quite fitting.

Warnings: Drinking, light swearing

*********************************************************

...one night I met a girl at the Sebel bar

And she taught me how to play that 1976 guitar

London, 1976

You decided you liked English pubs soon after you moved to London. They were cosier than the airy places you were used to back home, and the clientele were a lot less rough. Most of the time.

Your favourite pub was your local, just around the corner from your poky little second-floor flat. Decent food, good drinks, and interesting people. The bands playing on Saturday nights were always worth a listen too. Tonight, though, was a weeknight, which meant you were there for a stiff drink and maybe a nice greasy pub meal.

You hardly looked at the bartender as you flopped onto a stool. He floated over almost instantly anyway. "What can I get yer?" "Whiskey please" you ordered, attempting to be polite but mostly sounding tired. The barman smiled. "Coming up." It was fairly empty in the pub, so he returned with your drink almost immediately. You smiled gratefully and wasted no time taking your first sip. But you'd barely swallowed it, still dealing with the afterburn, when you heard a huff of surprise from a neighbouring stool.

You turned in the direction of the noise to discover the source: a youngish bloke with shaggy, pale blonde hair and big blue eyes. He looked strangely familiar, but you couldn't think where you recognised him from. If you weren't so annoyed you would've been taken aback by how attractive he was. Instead you glared at him. "What's your problem, mate?" He flashed you an annoyingly pretty smile. "Nothing. Just don't see many girls drinking whiskey like that." "Like what?" you shot back. "Like they do it all the time. Suits you, though." He flashed the smile again, and you felt your anger ebbing away.

Seeing the smile again seemed to jolt your memory. "Fucking hell," you gasped, "you're Roger-" "Don't say it" Roger hissed, cutting off your exclamation. "You'll tell the whole pub and then I won't get a moment's peace all night." You immediately looked downcast. "Sorry." Roger smiled reassuringly. "It's alright."

You eyed Roger curiously. "So tell me, what's the drummer from Queen doing in a place like this?" He broke into a cheeky grin. "I could ask you the same question" he said flirtatiously. "I've had a very long day and I live around the corner" you told him. "What about you?" "We used to play here, in the early days" he explained. "I always liked the atmosphere, and the people are always… interesting."

Suddenly you noticed him eyeing you up with curiosity. "I like your accent but I don't recognise it. Where're you from?" he asked casually. "Australia" you told him cheerfully. You noticed his expression fall slightly. "Not from Sunbury, I hope" he joked. You grinned cheekily. "Melbourne, actually. But I don’t blame you for not liking Sunbury." Roger was shocked. "You know about that?" You nodded. "I was there. It was a great day, actually, for me at least." Suddenly you smiled. "Anyway, whoever thought booking Queen to play at Sunbury was a good idea clearly knew nothing about bloody Sunbury. Or Australians, frankly." Roger smiled grimly at the memory. "God that was a shit gig. Might be the worst reception we've ever had." "If it makes you feel any better I enjoyed your set" you told him softly. "Queen's just a bit too sophisticated for most Aussies, I think." "But not you?" he asked, smiling. "But not me" you agreed.

"So what brought you to London anyway?" Roger asked. "I got sick of Australia" you told him. "It's so… behind, culturally. Anyone who's a serious artist or writer or whatever buggers off to London or somewhere first chance they get. So when you're still there you feel so far away from everything, it really feels like you're at the arse-end of the world sometimes." Roger grinned. "Arse-end of the world. I like that" he mused. "But I don't think you've come to the other side of the world just because you thought Australia was boring." You stared at him crossly. "Oh yeah? Why d'you reckon I'm here then?" you asked, challenging him with a look. "I think you ran away from something" Roger declared softly. "As far away as it was possible to get, just about."

You stared at him in shock. Now you thought about it, he wasn't exactly wrong. Suddenly your expression darkened. "Well, I suppose I'm running away from my mother and her bloody expectations of how I should live my own bloody life" you grumbled. He quirked an eyebrow. "Expectations?" "She wants me to be like her" you explained. "Find a nice bloke with a ‘suitable’ job, get married, buy a house, pop out a few kids, be a bloody housewife for the rest of my days."

"And you don't want that" Roger said quietly. He understood how it felt to choose a life different from the one your parents wanted for you. "No, I bloody well don't" you agreed. "I want to achieve things with my life, have a proper career." Your mother had told you several times that there was no point trying to advance in your job since you were just going to quit when you got married anyway. The recent feminist revolutions seemed to have entirely passed her by, but then Australian society in general did have a tendency to run a bit behind on things like that.

Roger's gravelly voice pulled you out of your thoughts. "And what might that career be?" You smiled. "I'm a music journalist. Well, I'm a researcher right now, but I'm trying to freelance a bit on the side." Roger nearly laughed. "Y'know, most music writers seem not to like us for some reason" he observed wryly. "But I get the impression you might be an exception." You grinned. “Wouldn’t you like to know.” "Maybe I would" Roger quipped.

You both drank quietly for a while, Roger gazing at you curiously. "Y'know, you never did tell me what's driven you to drink on a Wednesday night" he commented, casually as could be. "You really want to know?" you asked incredulously. Roger nodded. "Wouldn't ask if I didn't, love." You sighed. "Well, I was supposed to have a date last night, but he stood me up, which was just a delightful way to spend an evening" you said, your voice dripping with sarcasm. "Then this morning my boss was even more of an arsehole than usual, and I found out my article that was supposed to be published next week got pulled from the issue, so god knows if it'll ever see the light of day now. And then when I got home the disappearing date had the nerve to ring with a pathetic excuse that I'm almost certain he made up, and apparently he was blind to the possibility I wouldn’t want to reschedule the date he missed until I spelled it out to him."

Roger winced in sympathy. "Christ, that is a shitty day." “Well, it seems to have improved since I got here” you observed, flashing a sly smile. Suddenly he grinned, not bothering to be subtle about eyeing you up again, almost appraisingly this time. “You know, I could make it even better, if you’re interested” he said smoothly. You cocked an eyebrow in interest. “Oh, really? And how exactly would you do that?” “Have dinner with you” he replied, not missing a beat.

You blinked, shocked. “You want to-to what, take me out to dinner? Why?” “You seem interesting” Roger said, shrugging. “Besides, I like having company when I’m out, being alone’s not as fun.” You had to agree with him there. “So is it a date, then?” you asked, still a little uncertain about the turn your evening was taking. Roger smiled cheekily. “If you want it to be” he said. He seemed nonchalant, but you thought you detected a flicker of uncertainty under the rock-star swagger. You grinned. “You know what, bugger it. Take me on a dinner date, Roger.”

******

There were some decisions in your life you would live to regret, but going on that first impulsive date with Roger wasn’t one of them. One date very quickly became many, and before you knew it Roger was a fixture in your life. Well, as much as a touring rock star could be, anyway. You found it oddly satisfying writing a postcard telling your mother you were going out with a shaggy-haired rock’n’roll drummer, knowing he was almost the complete opposite of the sort of person she wanted you to pair up with. You’d also finally managed to get an article published in the paper, but, predictably, your mother’s response to your postcard entirely neglected that achievement in favour of detailing every reason she thought you should leave Roger and return home immediately. None of them really held much weight, and the suggestion your actions would damage your reputation back home was in your view rather forcefully disproven by the enormous quantity of messages you received from both friends and relatives congratulating you on both the article and your choice of boyfriend.

You did eventually find the things your mother wanted for you with Roger, in a way. Technically you never actually got legally married, but you were deeply committed to each other. And you did end up with the big house and the family of your own, alongside a flourishing career in rock journalism. It wasn’t always easy, juggling everything and getting people to take you seriously as a journalist, but you wouldn’t have it any other way. Sometimes, just sometimes, you were just a tiny bit grateful for that shitty day in 1976.

In '74 we got tight, in '75 we starred

Then we learned to play that 1976 guitar

**************************

A/N: I don’t think there’s too many Australianisms in here, but feel free to ask if you’re confused!

Taglist: (as always let me know if you want to be added/removed/think you should be on here but aren’t - it’s been so long some tags have changed since I added them) @wandering-at-midnight @royal-avengers @trumanjo @ohmygoditsanthonyedwardstark @itsametaphorbriansblog @wineandwanderings @simplyvictoria-93 @kotoamor @j1224 @florenceivy @jennyggggrrr @mercurycrowley

#roger taylor x reader #roger taylor fic #roger taylor imagine #queen fic #queen imagine #ben hardy x reader

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free-pancakes · 4 years ago

Text

Kiss the Drummer

Summary: a LeviHan Jazz!AU

Levi, a talented trumpet player famous in the jazz clubs of New York, is struggling with his instrument and feels burnt out—he wonders if he chose the right path in life.

The bassist of his quintet, an old friend named Erwin, invites a quirky new drummer to play with them, who brings a new spark into Levi’s life.

Notes: Drum "chops” describe a drummer's technical ability, including a large vocabulary of licks, and how freely they express themselves on the instrument. BPM = beats per minute Songs: Giant Steps - John Coltrane

sorry this AU fic is pure self-indulgence and has become much longer than originally intended lol

crossposted to AO3

CHAPTER 1

He licked his lips and pushed them readily against the smooth, silver mouthpiece, ready to hit the first note of the song, Giant Steps. He suppressed his desire to grumble at yet another fast swing tune.

He stared out into the audience, peering at the people sitting around the tables of the club. Their faces were slightly lit from the reflection of the stage lights, wearing expressions of both excitement and anticipation. “Just another night of the same old thing,” Levi thought to himself, letting out a soft, exasperated sigh, one only he could hear. His stance conveyed confidence, but his eyes spelled apathy.

He heard snaps on 2 and 4 marking their starting tempo at 289 bpm and Levi quickly puffed warm air into his trumpet.

“One… two… one two three four—“

——

Levi wiped down his trumpet, carefully cleaning the beautiful brass after yet another great performance. He gently placed it in his case, and looked up at himself in the dressing room mirror. He stared blankly at his reflection, noting the tinge of purple beneath his eyes—he knew his body was aching for sleep. It had been restless upon restless night for the past year or so, and he wasn’t completely sure why. He looked down at his trumpet case with both affection and disdain. Maybe... he just wasn’t meant to do this for this long.

He didn’t hate playing, but the truth was, he had simply been good at it all of his life. Quite gifted at it, one would say, and thus he passively let it lead him to success. It was just what it was. He was good at jazz, he was good at trumpet. Naturally he studied it at a top university for jazz performance and joined this famous quintet, and naturally he worked hard to improve his skills. But as any routine would, practice and rehearsals became monotonous, grunt work.

While lost in thought, his eyes trailed over to his small, neat pile of math textbooks at the edge of the dresser.

If anything, he did enjoy jazz theory. It was just math, anyway—circle of fifths, cadence patterns, fancy scales—it all just added up and broke down for any message or feeling you wanted to convey with a melody for your solo, and those tools were simply available in your brain to make it happen—tools to play some straight dirty solos that make you smirk satisfactorily when listening. To Levi, it just made sense, to a lot of other people, he was called “genius”. But after years and years of this, he was burning out and he was quite aware of that. He felt like he was losing his edge, and he was just a machine clunking out music most nights of the week. Again he thought, maybe he just wasn’t meant to do this forever. But what else would pay the bills?

Shaking his head, he let his jumbled thoughts fall away momentarily. He picked up a textbook, and leafed through the pages. He clicked open a ballpoint pen and began adding to his lesson plan for one of his students, a young girl named Sasha. Honestly, she seemed utterly hopeless with math at times, but he was determined to help her at least pass her algebra class. Her little friend Connie on the other hand…well that’s a story for another day, he thought, and chuckled softly to himself. If anything, he did enjoy his side job as a math tutor for the local school system. He didn’t really need the extra pocket money, but something compelled him to keep up with it.

As he jotted down notes, muffled noise of cheering and commotion rocked against the door. Tonight’s gig was Nile’s last performance with them, as he was moving out to the west coast to play with another group and accept a teaching position somewhere out there. Levi didn’t care much for his drumming or his personality for that matter, so he wasn’t particularly sad to see him go, nor was he keen on joining the celebration out in the bar. He yawned and continued finish up writing his lesson plan, as he knew he’d probably have to drive his drunk colleagues home.

——

“Levi! I’m gonna miss you buddy!” Nile exclaimed as he aggressively ruffled Levi’s hair, causing the cowlick he spent every morning trying to gel down to stick straight up embarrassingly at the top of his head. “Yeah, yeah, yeah… good luck Nile.” He shoved him and Mike into a cab, as they lived in the same apartment complex. He turned back into the bar to Erwin smiling drunkenly and Nanaba knocked out cold, sleeping soundly as she sat with her head down on a table. Levi grumbled and picked up Nanaba’s saxophone case to haul into the trunk of his car. He returned to pick up Nanaba and carried her on his back, and Erwin walked with them to Levi’s car.

“Hey Levi, Our new drummer is flying in tomorrow. I told her I’d come and pick her up from the airport at 7am.”

Levi looked Erwin up and down with a look of disgust. “In that sorry state, Eyebrows? Tch, go sleep off the hangover tonight, I can go to the airport. What’s her name and what does she look like?”

“Her name’s Hange. She has messy brown hair usually worn up in a ponytail, wears tortoise clubmaster glasses and well… honestly you can’t miss her, I’m sure you’ll find her right away.”

“Okay. So why’d we need to bring in a completely new drummer anyway? Couldn’t we have just brought in Moblit?”

“Ah you know his style doesn’t fit ours as well, plus he’s doing well with his band right now. Don’t worry, Hange and I played together all 4 years of college together, she’s got chops. Plus, I think Hange will probably bring in the change we need. Your playing’s gone a bit stale... hasn’t it, Levi?”

“Stale?! Pfft you’re just drunk,” Levi muttered, irritated as Erwin raised his eyebrows at him. They arrived at their apartment complex and Levi begrudgingly unlocked the car doors, gently woke Nanaba, and the three of them walked up to their floor. Erwin fumbled with his keys, and Levi snatched it out of his hands, frustrated at how long it was taking him. Erwin chuckled, and Levi scrunched up his nose at the stench of alcohol in his breath. As soon as the door opened, Nanaba immediately ran to the bathroom, retching into the toilet.

“I got her,” Erwin laughed. “Go to bed, Levi, you’re the one getting up early. Flight info’s next to the door.”

Levi nodded, turned into his room, and plopped down on the bed. He stared at the ceiling, and wondered how much longer he’d keep playing, or more like, how soon he’d quit. If this Hange person was as annoying as Nile, well… he probably wouldn’t hold out much longer.

——

Levi stood with his hands in his pockets, eyes peeled for this Hange person. He looked at his watch—“Maybe she was still waiting on her luggage,” he thought. He walked over to the small cafe to his left, and waited in line, squinting for any decent teas on the menu. Before he could decide, he suddenly heard a small yelp, and something shoved right into his chest, feeling piping hot coffee running down his white, longsleeve shirt. Before he could yell obscenities at the moron who just ruined one of his favorite shirts, he was met with frantic apologizes.

“I’m so so sorry! Oh my goodness it was a complete accident, can I get you a drink to make up for it? Man I am so clumsy...oh! Maybe you can wear one of my shirts I have here, free of charge! Or I could just—“

He looked up in the middle of incessant rambling to see the culprit—a tall brunette, hair messily tied up in a bun, wearing tortoise clubmaster glasses, and a bright yellow coat.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Levi thought to himself. He looked down to see a large black cymbal case and a stick bag with yarn mallets and drumsticks poking out of it.

—I could just buy you a new shirt! Oh, how bout—“

Levi was livid—this clown was potentially going to be playing gigs with them over the next year? The coffee stained fabric was sticking uncomfortably to his skin and he felt the biggest headache coming on—all this pain just from one person. He reached up and gently placed his hand over her mouth to physically stop her chattering.

“Is your name, Hange?”

She nodded, Levi’s hand still covering her mouth.

“You’re Erwin’s friend?”

She nodded again, her eyes lighting up at the name, Levi feeling her lips forming a smile under his palm.

“Okay, I’m taking you back to our apartment.”

Levi reached for her bags to carry them, but was interrupted.

“Wait—the least I can do is give you the extra shirt I have in my backpack so you can change out of your soiled one,” she said softly. She reached in her bag, and pulled out the shirt and Levi felt his eye twitch in annoyance at the words printed on its front. He sighed, and debated sitting in his wet shirt, but it seemed like he didn’t have much choice—he’d have to wear it.

——

Levi blinked his eyes open. He felt oddly rested, but one thing was strange—he was sitting up, and he felt something unusually heavy on his shoulder.

“What the—“

He looked to the side and saw a mess of brown hair immediately to his right, heard the soft sound of snoring, and felt… something wet on his arm? He looked down and grimaced. “Drool. She’s drooling. On my goddamn arm.”

He looked around for some kind of napkin. He didn’t remember falling asleep, let alone letting this absolute stranger curl up against him. How in the world did he let his guard down this far?

He stared blankly at Hange and thought, “What a mess—what was Erwin thinking? We’ve known each other for less than 5 hours, and she seems to have already made herself right at home. I haven’t even confirmed whether she was good enough to play with us, yet.” He tried to shift out from underneath Hange, but before he could wriggle is way out—

“Kiss the drummer?”

Erwin and Nanaba stood before Levi, both with hair in a complete mess, having just woken up from sleeping off their hangovers. Smirking and holding back laughter, they stared at the scene—Levi wearing an oversized t-shirt with the words “Kiss the Drummer” in bold letters plastered across his chest, along with Hange sleeping quite cozily on his shoulder, her glasses held gently between his fingers. Levi tried covering up the words and scowled at his two friends.

“Laugh it up,” he muttered. “What is this, Erwin? She’s clearly made herself at home already—and we haven’t even gotten to play together yet.”

“Relax, Levi, she’s a great musician. And look, she likes you!”

Levi grimaced at Hange draped over his shoulder.

“Hmph, I still have to hear her play and have my opinion considered. We all get a vote yknow…”

Over their hushed voices, Hange shifted groggily towards all of them and rubbed her eyes. “Erwin?”

Hange’s eyes lit up immediately in recognition, shoving Levi back further into the couch as she jumped up to wrap Erwin in her embrace, excited to finally be reunited with her friend after so many years.

After a few minutes of catching up, Erwin smiled brightly. “Yes, we can take you around the city a bit. Rehearsal’s not til this evening anyway—we did have a gig lined up last minute for the middle of this week if you were comfortable with that, Hange.”

“Of course I’d be down to do that! I—“

“Oi. Like I said, we still vote if you get to play with our group officially. Don’t be late to rehearsal tonight.” Levi then slowly stood up and walked quietly towards his room.

“Don’t mind him, he’s just being strict about our technical audition policy,’ Erwin reassured. He and Nanaba quickly darted for their rooms to ready themselves to take Hange sightseeing for a little while and introduce her to the city, leaving her standing alone in the middle of their living room. Her eyes trailed after Levi, curious about his calm yet sad energy. She felt that she saw through that aura, noticing every little kind gesture he made towards her from the time they met at the airport to the moment they fell asleep on the couch. Hange was determined to get him to show that side of himself a little more. As he turned to grab the door behind him, she smiled at him, and was quickly met with a scowl and the slam of his bedroom door in her face. Seemed it might take some more effort to get through to him than she originally thought.

#levihan #levihan fanfiction #levihan fanfic #levi ackerman #hange zoe #hanji zoe #lol idk what this but here ya go #inspired by the movie Soul and because i miss playing drums

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maladaptiv3 · 4 years ago

Text

Good Fit

((couldn’t decide which picture I liked better))

Content: request from anon - “Could I request meeting Colson for the first time through Pete? Like knowing Pete since before and meeting Colson at a party hosted by Pete and getting along right away?”

Warnings: Smut!! Swearing!!

Word Count: 3,168 (I got carried away)

*original content by colsonbakes*

You had grown up on the east coast but recently relocated to Los Angeles for a publishing job. Fortunately, every few weeks or so, you would find yourself back in your old stomping grounds to meet with the executives of the New York offices. Whenever you touched down in New York, you would make it a point to catch up with Pete. You had known Pete for a while; you two met when you were working as a publishing assistant for Vogue. You two remained close friends, even after you left for LA. The weekend you happened to be in town was the same night as the premiere party he was hosting for his new movie, Big Time Adolescence. Your meeting had ended early on that Thursday afternoon and you met Pete for dinner. You checked out of your hotel and decided to stay with Pete for the rest of the weekend. You were looking forward to seeing him, but you knew that this party was his perfect opportunity to try and set you up with one of his friends, again. You appreciated his efforts but despite the fact he was one of your closest friends, he had the worst grasp on the type of guy you usually go for. It wasn’t long into after-dinner cocktails that he floated the idea of a setup, “If you come to the party, I have the perfect guy to set you up with.” You rolled your eyes, “When are you gonna stop trying to set me up with your friends, Pete? It’s never a good fit.” He laughed as the waiter dropped off another round of drinks, “This one will be a good fit.” You just shook your head in disbelief, “I find that hard to believe.”

The party wasn’t until Saturday and that gave you an extra day to lounge around Pete’s place. It was a day of relaxation that you were looking forward to. You spent the morning sleeping in and most of your day reading some potential pieces for publication. Even though it was technically working, it relaxed you to read some new authors. Pete had been out all day finishing a press junket before the release of the film. You liked how quiet his place was and even took advantage of the steam shower he rarely let you use. You ordered some takeout and ended up falling asleep on the couch while watching some Netflix. It wasn’t until the late hours of the night that Pete stumbled through the door, startling you. He half-whispered, half-yelled, “Shit, didn’t mean to wake you. I gotta get my beauty rest for tomorrow.” He managed to make it to his room and you locked the front door behind him, “See you in the morning, Sleeping Beauty.”

The next morning you were woken up by the sun coming in from the blinds that you had forgotten to close the night before. You liked being woken up by the sun, but you were hoping to get a little bit of extra sleep before your long night. You weren’t quite used to going to parties and staying out late, you were more used to book readings and wine while networking. You made your way to the kitchen and started a pot of coffee, you always needed a cup in the morning and you knew Pete would probably need one after the night he had. You heard his door creak a bit as he rounded the corner to the kitchen. You handed him his cup of coffee, “You don’t look as bad as I thought you were going to this morning.” He groaned and rubbed his temple, “I’m getting too old to party like that.” You laughed a little as your toast popped out of the toaster, “Does that mean I don’t have to stay out until four in the morning with you tonight?” He began to head back to his room, “Not a chance, the car will be here at 9:30.”

It wasn’t long before 9:30 rolled around and you were struggling to figure out which pair of shoes to wear with your slightly too short black dress. You settled with a pair of black red-bottoms, you couldn’t help but throw on an all-black outfit every time you had a doubt about what to wear. The little black dress was extremely out of your comfort zone, but you had to admit that you looked good and felt confident in it. You and Pete found your way into the black town car and were off to the party. The party wasn’t very far from Pete’s place and you were a bit nervous to walk in. Sometimes Pete’s crowd was a little intimidating, you had such a mundane life compared to theirs and you were often worried that you couldn’t keep up. Pete could sense your hesitation as he waited for you to get out of the car. He offered his hand, “Come on, it’ll be fine.” You took his hand and he helped you up, “Just don’t leave me completely alone to fend for myself.” He winked, “Oh you won’t be alone, I have a friend for you remember?” You groaned and waited for Pete to finish his red carpet appearance.

You walked into the venue and the music was bouncing off the walls. There was so much going on, you couldn’t really figure out what was louder; the music pumping out of the speakers or the voices and laugher of those in attendance. You followed Pete for a few minutes while he introduced you to new people and you caught up with some familiar faces. You had run into an old co-worker from Vogue and decided to spend a good hour catching up with her while Pete went off and entertained his friends. You were just finishing your second drink when your friend tapped the top of your hand, “Don’t look now, but Pete is heading this way with a gorgeous, tall blonde.” You giggled as the alcohol coursed through my veins, “I love gorgeous, tall blonde men.”

You felt Pete tap your shoulder, “Hey, I have someone I want you to meet.” You turned around and were immediately enamored by the stranger’s piercing baby blues. He offered his hand to shake, “I’m Colson. Pete’s told me so much about you. I guess he like really wants us to get together, dude is nuts.” He was wearing a sleeveless red suit that showed off his perfect and completely tatted arms. You took his hand in yours, “Hi, yeah. Hi.” God, what had gotten into you, you were never stunned speechless, especially not by a man, but something about Colson was so intoxicating, even after just meeting him. He noticed your empty cup, “How about I go get us another round of drinks and we ditch Pete?” You smiled back at him, “I like that idea.” He cleared your empty glass off the table, “What are you drinking?” You tucked your hair behind your ear, “A vodka soda with lime would be great.” He beamed, “Coming right up.”

You turned back to Pete, “Not bad.” Pete was pleased with himself, “See, I told you this one would be a good fit.” “We’ve only just met, don’t get ahead of yourself.” He sarcastically shook his head, “You were kind of a nervous mess back there, I think I did pretty well.” You put your hand over your eyes, “Oh God, was it really that bad? Was I super noticeable? I could barely get a word out.” Pete laughed, “It was pretty obvious, but I think Colson was into it. Oh, look he’s coming back.” You felt like a deer in the headlights. He handed you your drink and you nodded back, “Thanks.” He took a slow sip from his whiskey, “It was my pleasure.” The four of you were still awkwardly standing there until you gestured to your friend and Pete, “Why don’t you guys go get yourselves another drink?” Pete grabbed his glass off the table and your friend followed suit, “Okay, yeah, we get it. I can take a hint.”

Colson broke the silence between the two of you, “So, how do you know Pete? You guys seem like super close friends.” You cleared your throat after taking a sip of your drink, “Yeah, we are close. He’s been such a great friend. I actually met him while I was working for Vogue.” He leaned closer to you. You weren’t sure if it was to hear you over the clinking and laughing or as an excuse to just be in closer proximity to you. His tone was quizzical, “Was working for Vogue? What happened?” You appreciated how interested he seemed, “Oh, nothing bad. I relocated to LA for a publishing gig, I’m just here for the weekend.” His face lit up, “No way! I live out in LA too, I was just here for the press tour and premiere.” You mused, “Small world...” He moved a few inches closer to you, “I guess I know why Pete wanted us to meet so bad.” You swallowed hard as his cologne and warmth overwhelmed your senses, “Yeah, I guess so.”

Before you knew it, Pete found you and Colson still talking at the same table, “I’m gonna head out, I got an early morning.” You looked at the time and didn’t even realize it was already after one in the morning, “What? You’re going home before me.” “I know, it’s unbelievable, right?” He and Colson said their goodbyes and he pulled you aside for a minute, “Are you coming home tonight?” You playfully gasped at what he was insinuating, “Hey, I am not that kind of girl. Of course, I am.” He gave you a quick hug and mentioned that the doorman would have the spare key to his place.

You and Colson spent the next half hour or so finishing your drinks and watching the party dwindle. He leaned over and pressed his lips to your ear, “Do you wanna get out of here?” The alcohol coursing through your veins made your skin feel like it was on fire and his lips burned your ear. All you could think about was running your fingers through his blonde locks and sinking your teeth into his collarbone. You nodded, “Yes.” He took you by the hand and you followed closely behind him, trying your best to hide from the flashing lights of the peering cameras. He opened the car door for you and made sure you got in safely before climbing in after you. The second he closed the door and you took notice of the purposefully dark windows, something inside of you just took over. Your head was resting on the back of the seat and you peered over at Colson, his eyes were already fixed on yours. You crashed your lips into his and he pulled you onto his lap so that you were straddling him. His hands had a tight grip on your hips and you were both breathing heavily after finally giving in to the urges you had for hours.

He moved his way down to your neck and your breath hitched as you tried to defend your case, “You know, I don’t usually do this.” He spoke between kisses, “I’ll let it slide this time. Your place or mine?” “Mine.” Your eyes shot open and you pushed his shoulders back with the sudden realization that you were staying with Pete. You slightly sat back onto his thighs, “Fuck, I totally forgot I was staying with Pete.” He leaned up to kiss you again, “Perfect, his place his closer than my hotel anyways.” He shouted Pete’s streets at the driver with a please and thank you. You hungrily reconnected your lips as thoughts of Pete finding you in bed with his best friend flooded your mind. It was clear that was the least of Colson’s worries, but you weren’t so sure you wanted to give Pete that satisfaction. On the other hand, how badly you wanted Colson outweighed any other negative you could muster up.

The car came to an abrupt stop and you two untangled from each other in an attempt to gracefully exit the backseat of the car. Colson made sure to thank the driver before he drove off. You entered the building and walked up to the doorman, “Hi, Pete told me that was going to leave the extra key for me.” The doorman pulled the key out, “Yeah, I just gotta see some ID.” Colson was grabbing at you as you struggled with your wallet, “No problem.” You took the key from the doorman and thanked him before heading to the elevator. Pete lived on the top floor and Colson took advantage of the longer than usual elevator ride. Your back hit the cold wall of the elevator as your arms wrapped around his neck, your plump lips working in unison. The elevator reached Pete’s floor with a ding and you promptly exited into the hallway. You found yourself pressed up against the wall outside of Pete’s apartment while Colson held you in place, pressing one of his hands into your hip while the other was firmly planted on the wall above your head. You slightly pushed his chest to stop and catch your breath, “Someone’s gonna see us.” He nipped at your neck, “Fuck ‘em.” You began to fumble with Pete’s lock as you shushed Colson, beckoning him to not make a sound as you clumsily made your way to the guest room.

You finally found your way through Pete’s dark apartment and slowly and quietly closed the bedroom door. You turned around to find Colson sitting on the bed taking off his shoes. You sat down on the bed next to him. He placed his hand on your thigh and gave it a soft squeeze. You took his hand in yours and pressed a kiss to his palm, “You have nice hands.” He pressed a light kiss to your swollen lips, “You have nice lips.” You stood in front of him and slipped off your heels, his hands settled on your waist as you began to unbutton the front his shirt. You slipped his shirt and vest off him and his toned, colorful chest was mesmerizing. You turned around, “Can you unzip me?” You moved your hair out of the way as his hands fumbled with your zipper and then he slowly pulled it down. You turned back around to face him, your arms still clutching your dress to your body. Colson pulled you into him and tucked your hair behind your ear, kissing you.

Your actions were slow and calculated, nothing like the lust that led to this moment. You let your dress fall, climbing on top of him. He deepened the kiss as you tugged on the waistband of his red suit pants. You unbuttoned and unzipped them as he took the initiative to wiggle out of them. The only thing that was separating you two was the thin material of his Calvin Kleins. You could feel him hardening beneath you as his hands explored every inch of your exposed skin. You palmed him through his briefs, desperate for what was underneath. He sat up taking you with him and reached to the floor, searching for his wallet. You wrapped your arms around his neck to steady yourself, “What are you looking for?” He finally found his wallet, “Condom.” You pressed your lips to his, “Good call.”

He shifted so that he was now hovering above you. All you could think about was wrapping your legs around his waist and digging your heels into him, so you did. He mused to himself, “Someone’s eager.” You whimpered bashfully. Colson steadied himself using the headboard and slowly pushed into you. You had been craving this feeling since the moment you laid eyes on him. His hips began to move rhythmically as he crashed his lips onto yours, moaning into your mouth. He released his grip from the headboard and his fingers met your core. You tightly squeezed his arm that was now fisting the sheets beneath you. You could fill warmth spreading through your veins as you tingled in anticipation of what was coming. Your hips bucked into his as you felt your high nearing, profanities spilling too loudly from your lips. Colson shoved his fingers into your mouth to silence you, as not to wake anyone. His thrusts were soon jagged with abandon as he fell apart right in front of your eyes. He collapsed on top of you and then moved to your side, pressing a kiss to your flushed forehead, “Fuck.” You pushed his damp hair off his forehead and his eyes almost twinkled in the soft moonlight, “Pete was right, you are a good fit.”

The next morning, you woke before Colson. You weren’t sure what time it was, but the sun was already out and you could hear honking cars on the street below your window. Colson’s hair was unkempt and sticking out in every which way on the pillow. Soft snores left his lips and his chest moved up and down. You couldn’t help but smile as you admired him. You could hear Pete making coffee from the kitchen and figured you would sneak out there before he came in here to find you in bed with Colson. You pulled on a hoodie and your PJ shorts and slowly snuck out of the guest room. Pete was leaning against the counter, almost like he was waiting for you to come out of the room, “Someone got home late last night.” You poured yourself a cup of coffee, “Oh yeah, I had a great time meeting Colson. He was nice to talk to.” Pete raised his eyebrows, “You know, he’s supposed to come over later.” You almost spit out the hot liquid that coated your tongue, “I look forward to seeing him.” Pete took a seat on the couch, “What did you guys end up doing after the party?” You took a seat opposite him, “We just talked.” Pete had a look on his face like he knew something, “I see, I see…” You heard the bedroom door open and muttered under your breath, “Shit.” Colson pressed a kiss to the top of your head, “Morning.” He looked over at Pete, “Morning, Pete.” Pete took a sip of his coffee, “Have a good night, Colson?” He shook his head yes. You sat there not really knowing what to do. Colson took a seat next to you pulling your legs into his lap. You all sat there in a weird silence until Pete broke it, “You guys are really bad at sneaking into apartments.” You buried your face into Colson’s neck in embarrassment, “Oh no. I am never going to live this down.” Colson let out a bellowing laugh, “In all fairness, she did tell you she was going to come home last night.”

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#mgk smut #mgk x reader #mgk imagine #mgk fanfic #mgk #machine gun kelly #machine gun kelly x reader #machine gun kelly fanfic #machine gun kelly writing #colson baker smut #machine gun kelly smut #smut #colson baker #colson x reader #colson baker imagine #imagine #blurb #request #estxx

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kinksvt · 4 years ago

Text

behind closed doors (m)

requested

→ pairing: actor!mingyu x actress!reader

♕ summary: you and mingyu have a secret relationship and before he leaves for two weeks, you both decide to tie the knot.

✱ genre: celebrity au

✱ warnings: cursing, humor? (i tried), slow sex, angst at some parts

✱ word count: 5.9k

You knew that being in the movie industry would not be easy. You knew you had to work and sacrifice many things to avoid scandals, drama and rumors. So when you and Mingyu met on a set of a movie that your agent recommended, you had no idea what was to come.

The movie's plot included two characters—you and Mingyu—sent back in time to "save the world." You and Mingyu are friends in the movie but slowly fall for each other during the quest. You both shared a few kisses in some scenes in the movie and that was it. Yeah, maybe the storyline was a bit cliche but, a gig is a gig, you always thought.

Over the course of a few months, outside of your roles, you and Mingyu got close due to rehearsing and making sure it all went as planned. Closer than you would've guessed. You've heard of costars falling for each other during the filming of a movie and end up dating in real life to be admired by everyone? Well, unfortunately, this wasn't the case for you. Your agent, Seungcheol, did not like the idea of you dating in your career. He said that it might distract and hold you back from getting certain roles for future parts. You tried to tell him that it wouldn't change anything but Seungcheol didn't listen. He just waved you off and answered a phone call outside of the room.

And that's how you ended up in the situation now. Since the filming for you and Mingyu's movie ended, you haven't been able to score any parts that involved him as the lead as well. Not even a substitute role either. You enjoyed working with Mingyu, even if you didn't consider it working and more like just having fun with him while in character. He was an amazing actor and he was so passionate as well. You've heard many actors and actresses that's worked with him compliment on how dedicated he is in roles and how serious he takes his career.

Everyone loves Mingyu, he's handsome, funny, sweet, tall and not to mention, well built. Who wouldn't fall for him at his feet? But, what no one knew was that you and Mingyu have been seeing each other on the low. After those months of working with each other, texting and getting to know each other truly, you developed feelings and so did he luckily. He asked you out and, though you wished you could date freely, you two dated in private. It was still something though, even if you couldn't hold his hand out in public or even be seen in public—it was still nice to know that he cared for you and wanted to be with only you.

It had been six and a half months since he asked you out and what a wonderful six and a half months it had been. Six—and a half—months of pure and utter affection and dates at home that involved binge watching movies and shows, ordering out and spending as much time as you both could with your busy schedules. Including tonight.

Tonight was one of the few nights that you and Mingyu were available this month and of course, he called you and asked you to come on over. Both of you were initially cuddling on the couch, watching a random show that you put on when he put his hand on your thigh, accidentally sparking something inside of you that you've been dying to push down since the moment you laid eyes on him.

You guys have kissed, plenty of times and during those times there's been plenty of moments where it escalated to the point of almost having sex. Although neither of you both were virgins, you both were somewhat afraid of "sealing the deal." You knew at least that if you were to have sex with Mingyu, it would be hard to let him go eventually, like you knew you would one day. Mingyu knew if you guys were to have sex, he'd fall harder for you and wouldn't want to leave you. But at this moment, both of you didn't care.

You ended up on Mingyu's lap, the blanket that covered the both of you tossed to the side and the movie long forgotten. Mingyu's hands wandered all over your back, moving down south to grip your ass, making you moan into his mouth. Your hips subconsciously began to grind on him, making him moan into your mouth. The only sounds that were present in the room was the sound of your mixed heavy breathing and the television on low.

"Y/N," Mingyu panted as his cock began to get hard under your movements.

You whined against his lips, feeling yourself get wet at the friction. Mingyu broke the kiss, kissing your neck and nipping only slightly at the skin, knowing that if you suddenly showed up with a hickey, the press would get suspicious. "Mingyu," you spoke softly.

He stopped his movements, "Yeah?" he replied. He was sweaty, his hair sticking to his forehead and cheeks flushed.

You wanted to have sex with him. At this point you didn't care about the consequences or the possible feelings that you might have hurt. You just needed him then and there or else you felt like you'd explode. "I think I'm r-"

Ring ring!

Are you fucking kidding me?

Mingyu groaned as you felt disappointed. You got up off of Mingyu's lap and let him answer his phone which laid face up on the table. "Hello?" He said when he picked up, mouthing an I'm sorry to you. You sat quietly, listening to Mingyu's responses and also straining to listen to who was on the other line. "Oh, hey Jeonghan. What's up?" He spoke nonchalantly as if you two weren't dry fucking on his couch.

Jeonghan was Mingyu's agent who—to put it nicely—wasn't the biggest fan of you. He knew that you two had a thing and when he confronted you about it, he made you stop speaking with him. Of course you didn't listen to him, sticking it to the man. You couldn't help yourself, trying to cut ties with Mingyu for the better of your career. But every time you tried, you imagined his sad little face in your mind and didn't have the heart to really end it.

"Really?" Mingyu got up suddenly, visibly excited. He glanced at you and his face dropped. "Okay. Friday? This Friday? That's too soon." You were on the edge of your seat, curious to know what was happening. "But- Jeonghan- I," Mingyu sighed, "Okay. Alright, thank you. Yes Jeonghan I am thankful. Yeah, I'll talk to you later. Okay, bye." You looked at him, waiting for him to talk to you.

"Jeonghan got me a role."

...

After hearing those words, you felt something in your heart. Mingyu would be gone for, God knows how long and you were—to say the least—devastated. You wouldn't see him, feel him, touch or hear him for whatever many months and it upset you. He would be leaving this Friday, only—technically—two more days. Two days to spend as much time with him as you can. That night you wanted to seal the deal. To hell with your fear of it because in reality, you were already in deep with Mingyu. You cared about him and you knew he cared about you too. But not yet. You wanted it to be meaningful.

You picked the absolute fanciest hotel you could find and were pleasantly pleased to find a private house for you and Mingyu, for two nights. You got there before nightfall, just before 6 o'clock, giving yourself time to set up and build up your confidence. When you entered the house, it was breathtaking. You knew Mingyu was going to love it.

The house was secluded, overlooking the mountains and the Pacific ocean. It was huge, beautiful wooden floors, the most expensive decorations and up to date appliances. Two master bedrooms, both with gorgeous bathrooms that made you wish you could stay in forever.

"It's that nice?" Mingyu's voice echoed throughout the living room as you had him on speaker.

"Yes, it's more than nice, it's amazing. You're seriously gonna freak out when you get here." You smiled at the thought of Mingyu's reaction. You can already see his eyes sparkling with his pearly white canines showing.

"Well, I'm only about an hour-ish away according to my GPS."

"Okay, drive safe for me. Come here in one piece."

"I will, Mom."

You groaned at his words, earning a laugh from him.

...

"Ho-ly shit, Y/N, you were right." Mingyu said right after you had opened the door. The sun set by the time he arrived and it made everything look so much more beautiful. Mingyu looked all around, taking his jacket and shoes off, setting the small bag he packed on the floor.

"I told you," you replied, giggling. You showed him around, every room making his eyes grow wider and wider. After Mingyu came to his senses, the sound of his nose sniffing filled your ears. "Y/N, you didn't." He turned to you, his eyebrows furrowing together while he pouted.

You winced jokingly, "I did."

"You made dinner for me?" Mingyu looked at you, pouting even harder that it made his lower lip ache.

"For us. I just wanted to do something nice for the two of us. You know," you trailed off. "Before you go." You said sadly.

Mingyu cooed and grabbed your hand, pulling you into his arms. "You're such a sweetheart, Y/N."

You sighed in his chest, "Just wanna make our last few moments a little special."

...

After Mingyu arrived, you served him his food and you both sat on the luxurious and quite comfy couch and ate together. You found a show to put on and you two cuddled. You glanced at the microwave that read 9:46. Mingyu had his arms behind his head while you laid on his chest, your left arm wrapped around his torso. Without looking at him, you called out his name. "Mingyu?"

"Yeah baby?" He looked down at you—well, the top of your head actually.

You paused for a second, thinking over what you wanted to say. "You remember what happened yesterday?"

At this moment, you sat up to look at Mingyu in the eyes. "Which part exactly?"

"When we were making out, I was gonna tell you something." You played with your fingers, nervous that you were ready but Mingyu wouldn't be. You didn't want Mingyu to feel pressured to have sex with you. He nodded his head slowly, waiting for you to continue. "I was going to tell you, that," you took a deep breath, "I'm ready."

Mingyu tilted his head a bit, "Ready for?"

"Sex. I, uh, I want to have sex with you. B-But if you don't want to that's fine! I don't want to if you don't want to."

He scoffed and sat up to grab your hands. "I thought you'd never be ready." You furrowed your eyebrows. "No! I didn't mean it like that! I meant," You stared at him, allowing him to dig his little hole. "Like, I meant- I thought that I was the only one ready and I was like, just, waiting.. for you."

You stayed quiet, internally giggling at his nervous state. "I know what you meant, goof." You leaned in and gave him a kiss on the lips. Standing up, you held out your hand for him to grab. He looked at you curiously but took your hand anyway. You led him through the house, into the main bedroom.

The room was filled with soft lighting—thanks to the candles that you lit beforehand and you bought a few rose petals to scatter on the floor around the bed, just to make it a little more cheesy. "Oooh," Mingyu said as you two walked entered and he admired your handiwork.

You laughed and turned back around to face Mingyu. He pulled you closer to him, connecting his lips to yours. Your face began to heat up, flustered at the situation. His tongue glided over yours as his hands rested on your waist. Your hand gripped the back of his neck while you stood on your tippy toes.

The kiss got hot quickly and you weren't sure if it was because you two were finally going to have sex, or if it was the romantic scenery that made you want to dive right in.

Mingyu began walking you backwards toward the foot of the bed. Your legs hit the edge and you pulled away from Mingyu, noting how cute he looked while his face was flushed. You smiled shyly at him as you hesitantly hooked your fingers under your shirt, pulling it over your head. Mingyu's face seemed to grow more pink, as he carefully watched your every move. He was trapped in a trance as more and more of your skin was exposed to his fortunate eyes. He always thought you were perfect but he didn't think you were this perfect. His eyes raked over every curve, dip and wonder of your now bra-clad torso. "You're so beautiful Y/N." Mingyu said quietly, a smile forming on his face.

You avoided his eyes, looking at the ground in shyness. "Oh stop," you replied jokingly.

Mingyu followed your actions and took his own shirt off. You knew Mingyu was built and despite seeing him shirtless plenty of times during a few of his previous movies, it felt more personal. Sure, he's shown his body on screen but seeing it in front of you, in a way that only he wanted to show you made you feel special. You were also in a daze as your eyes traveled over his defined abs and bicep muscles. "You're beautiful too," you said mindlessly.

He laughed at how adorable you were. Mingyu walked closer to you, grabbing your hand and sitting on the bed while you stood standing. He pulled you down gently, reconnecting your lips. He backed up on the bed to rest against the pillows and you ended up sitting on his lap, running your fingers through his hair, lightly tugging when you felt that addictive feeling down south.

Mingyu's tongue ran over yours, making sure no inch of your mouth went untouched. Both of your moans merged together, the air in the room slowly becoming hot. Your hips instinctively began shifting underneath Mingyu's, receiving a whine from him. He moaned, "Fuck, keep doing that, baby." Your clit pulsated at Mingyu's voice—he sounded so hot yet so cute at the same time. Mingyu's hair began to stick to his forehead, sweat quickly building up on the both of you. You halted your movements to unbutton the pants Mingyu wore, following your own afterwards.

Mingyu's cock strained against his underwear, giving you a clear outline of what you've been only dreaming about seeing since you two started dating. You definitely underestimated him though. Lost in your thoughts, Mingyu noticed you spaced out, basically drooling over his crotch. "Are you enjoying yourself, Y/N?"

You snapped out of it, your cheeks heating up from embarrassment. "Sorry.." you whispered.

"Your underwear is cute." He pointed. Your underwear were red with a black bow at the top. He messed with the bow You rolled your eyes playfully, ignoring him. Mingyu leaned up and pulled you down with him, kissing you once again. Your heat came in contact with his cock, making the both of you moan. Mingyu's hips instinctively bucked up, rubbing against you in a way that had your clit beating harshly and arousal building.

The kiss was sensual and soft, yet also rough at the same time, due to the both of you waiting for this moment for as long as you both could remember. In the past, you and Mingyu shared some heated experiences with one another before, but nothing at all like this before. The getaway, the room, the warm lighting that shined against both of your faces made the two of you stop and smile.

"I know this might not be a good time- you know, since you're leaving but, I'm really glad that you asked me out." You confessed to Mingyu.

Mingyu awed at your words, giving you a slight pout. "Well, I'm really glad that you didn't reject me."

You laughed, looking down and back up at him. "How could I ever even think of rejecting you?"

He shrugged, "I don't know, maybe you thought I was ugly."

Scoffing, you gave him a bewildered look. "Ugly?" You said, a bit too loud for your own liking. "Who could possibly think you're ugly?"

Mingyu winced. "I know a few haters that could tell you otherwise."

You rolled your eyes and leaned down to give him a kiss on the cheek. "You're perfect to me, Mingyu." He smiled shyly up at you, avoiding your eyes. "Whaat? It's true, baby. You are perfect."

He shook his head, disagreeing with you. "There's so many other guys out there that could treat you so much better than me. I'm going to leave you for weeks, maybe even months in just a few days." He said in a sad voice.

Leaning down, you gave Mingyu another kiss on the cheek, rubbing your thumb on his cheekbone softly. "Mingyu, I don't care if you leave me for a year. I'm always going to have the same feelings for you."

Mingyu's eyes began to water, guilt settling in the entirety of his heart. Mingyu thinks that he might love you, but he's afraid if he says it out loud, it'll ruin everything. He knows his feelings for you are strong but he didn't know that they were strong enough to make him consider turning down the role Jeonghan got for him in order to stay close to you. It scared him.

"We can do long distance. We can Facetime whenever you have the chance or call or text. Whatever it takes. I just know that I can wait for you." Your own eyes began to tear up, your heart aching at the sight of Mingyu beginning to cry.

"I just-" he paused for a second, looking up at the ceiling as a tear slips down his cheek. You wiped to off, waiting for him to finish. "I don't know, I don't want you to wait all this time for me and give you false hope that the production time won't extend or whatever. I don't know, Y/N. I don't want to hurt you accidentally or whatever because I love you and I want you to be happy and-"

"Wait, wait. What?" Your thumb stopped caressing his cheek, and you sat up straight. "You what?" Your heart felt like it stopped, or maybe that's the loud thumping you hear in your ears.

Mingyu looked puzzled, "I want you to be happy?"

Your heart began beating faster. "Y-You-you love me?"

"Oh fuck." Mingyu mumbled, covering his mouth with one of his hands. He wanted to slap himself. He just said that he didn't want to say he loved you because it would ruin everything and now he did and you're probably freaked out and a million thoughts began racing in Mingyu's mind. He wanted to literally slap himself so hard right then and there.

"Mingyu-"

"Don't say it. I know that you don't feel the same way. I'm sorry, I didn't even mean to say it. I don't know why that came ou-"

You shut him up with a kiss, a deep, soft kiss that took his breath away. Which was what you were going for. After breaking the kiss, you paused for a second. "If it came out that easily, then that must mean that it has to be true."

"Y/N, I'm really sorry. I didn't want to say this then leave for who knows how long."

You shook your head, letting the fact that Mingyu actually loves you settle in. "I think I feel the same way."

"You know you don't have to say that if it isn't true. I didn't say it for you to say it back." Mingyu looked really sad and you knew that what he said wasn't how you really felt.

"I do though. I don't know for certain but I do believe that the love for you is there, Mingyu. Trust me, okay?" You gave him a small smile, making him smile back.

Mingyu nodded his head and rubbed your arm softly. "Okay. Do you still want to do this, baby?"

"Of course, why wouldn't I?"

He sniffled, wiping his eyes. "Well, I kinda just cried and shit so I wasn't sure if that turned you off or anything."

You laughed as you caressed his cheek lovingly. "You didn't. I'm glad we had that moment." Sighing, you reached behind your back, unhooking your bra. "Now, can we continue?"

Mingyu's eyes dropped to your chest, "Yes ma'am." He grabbed you and pushed you backwards, attacking your neck.

You moaned as he licked your neck, dragging his teeth against it since he couldn't mark you officially. He kissed from one side to the next and moved down to your collarbones.

Mingyu kissed and licked his way to the valley between your breasts, sucking a small hickey right beside your nipple. "I hope you don't have any roles that involve you being braless anytime soon." He said, making you laugh. Mingyu's lips were soft against your skin, giving you goosebumps as he reached your stomach, going down further and further before stopping above your underwear. Glancing up at you, he looked at you curiously.

"Please," you whined.

Mingyu smirked as his fingers slipped under the band of your underwear. Before pulling them down, he kissed your clothed clit and dragged them down your legs. You shyed away from him, hiding yourself. Mingyu moved his hands onto your knees, "You're beautiful, Y/N."

You pouted, his slightly cold hands making you shiver lightly. Mingyu placed his hands on your thighs, spreading you open slowly. Your breathing got deeper, the knowledge of how much you're exposed to him making you throb. Mingyu took note of the way your wetness shined from the candlelight, edging him to finally taste you.

His tongue flattened against your pussy, making sure he got every drop of your arousal. You let out a whine, as his tongue flicked your clit. "Fuck, you taste so good baby." Mingyu's lips latched onto your clit, sucking gently while swirling his tongue around it.

Your back arched off the bed while your hands tangled in his hair, pushing his face closer to your pussy. He took his right hand and used one of his fingers to slowly push inside you. You bit your lip as your walls clenched around his finger. "So warm too." Quickly taking his finger out, he scooted up close to your face, "Say 'ah,'" he said, opening up his own mouth for you to mimic.

Obeying his order, your mouth dropped open and you stuck your tongue out a bit. Mingyu pressed two of his fingers on your tongue. You closed your mouth around them, sucking on them and looking into Mingyu's mouth. "If you don't stop that I'm gonna have to put my dick in you right now."

"Do it then." You challenged as he pulled his fingers out of your mouth. Honestly, you wanted this to move along already. You were aching to have Mingyu inside of you, on the edge of begging for it.

"Really? You want to?" His eyebrows raised up as he held up his saliva covered fingers.

Giggling, you nodded your head. Mingyu laughed nervously, "W-Well okay then." His back smacked onto the bed, lifting his hips up to take off his underwear a little too eagerly. You started laughing as he struggled slightly. While he did, you stretched over to the nightstand on the side of the bed, grabbing a pack of condoms you placed there before his arrival.

Opening the pack, you noticed Mingyu's underwear were off and you stared for a moment. A breathy "wow" left your lips before you realized. His confidence peaked a little bit but didn't let it show. "Thank you," he smiled and grabbed the condom from your fingers. He opened the condom, pinching the top and rolling it down his length. You watched his movements carefully, admiring him in all his glory. Your eyes traveled up to his eyes, seeing his concentration and you felt your heart beat at the sight.

You laid down on the bed, in front of Mingyu who began positioning himself. He took a deep breath, "Ready?" You nodded your head and closed your eyes. He held his cock in his hand and slowly pushed into you. You winced and Mingyu groaned, both of you not used to this feeling. Mingyu was a bit thicker and you felt yourself stretch to his girth. Your walls clung onto Mingyu, making him feel like he was in heaven. "Tell me when," he grunted. You took in the sight of him inbetween your legs, his hair sticking to his forehead slightly and cheeks a light pink hue. Mingyu looked at you suddenly, "What did you just do?"

You looked at him, clueless as to what he was talking about. "Huh?"

Mingyu chuckled, licking his lips. "Your, uh," he scratched his head. "You kinda clenched around me."

Your eyes widened a bit, not even knowing you did so. "Oh," you said quietly.

"I'm not complaining though! I-It felt good actually," Mingyu admitted.

When you knew you were ready you told him and closed your eyes. Mingyu mouthed an okay, moving his length almost all the way out of you before pushing back in. You gasped, eyes popping back open as you seen his mouth drop open and a quiet moan leaving his pink lips. Grabbing the back of Mingyu's neck, you pulled him closer to kiss him. Mingyu developed a steady pace—slow yet forceful at the same time.

"Mingyu," you purred in his mouth. His cock hit the sweetest spots of you when he pushed himself the furthest he could go.

His tongue swirled around yours, caressing it lovingly and making your insides fill with butterflies. "Y/N," he breathed sensually.

The kiss broke, but Mingyu kept himself close to you. His forehead touched yours, resting it gently on you as his hips kept the pace. Mingyu's hips ground into yours tenderly, making you see stars. You looked into Mingyu's eyes, "I love you."

Mingyu smiled, brushing a piece of hair out of your face and holding your cheek. "I love you too, Y/N."

After saying that, Mingyu picked up his speed. Both of you moaned, drunk off the way the two of you made each other feel. Mingyu's cock felt warm in you and your walls hugged him in a way that you knew you'd miss when he left. At the thought, you wrapped your legs around Mingyu's lower half, wanting him to be as close to you as possible before he would be gone.

Mingyu laid on his forearms that were right next to the sides of your head. His breath mingled with yours, making your head spin slightly as his lips brushed your own. Your hand rested on his jaw, admiring his facial expressions. He moaned, feeling your pussy pulse around his cock. "You must really be whipped for me because every time you look at me, your downtown gets affected in a way."

You smacked his face gently, "Shut up, dork."

"No you." He said desperately, his hips going faster and faster. You whined while Mingyu placed his head in the crook of your neck. His breath tickling your collarbones as he moaned into your skin. "Fuck, Y/N," he rasped.

Your arms hugged his shoulders, fingers tangling in his hair as you felt your orgasm building. "O-Oh my god, f-fuck," you stuttered. You swallowed harshly, broken moans slipping past your lips.

Mingyu grunted, his own orgasm building quickly alongside yours. "God, you feel so, so good, Y/N fuck." He moved away from your neck to kiss you again. His teeth caught your bottom lip, making you giggle.

Mingyu swallowed your high pitched moans, as you felt yourself get closer and closer to the edge. Your fingernails raked down his back, making him growl in your mouth. "Do that again," he mumbled against your lips.

You repeated your actions, your fingernails scratching red marks down his shoulder blades. "Shit, I'm close. Mingyu," you pleaded.

"M-Me too," he whimpered.

You slipped your hand between the two of you, rubbing your clit messily to edge yourself closer.

"That's hot," Mingyu chuckled as you rolled your eyes at him.

"I'm almost there," your walls began pulsing around Mingyu quickly.

Both of your moans got higher and higher until waves of pleasure washed over you two. Mingyu's hips halted as he came into the condom while he grunted softly. Your walls clenched around his length as your back arched off the bed. You collapsed back on the bed, your clit beating in a rhythm that you felt in your toes.

Mingyu sighed, pulling out of you gently as you mewled. He took the condom off of himself, careful to make sure nothing spilled out. Mingyu searched for the trashcan before looking back at you. You laughed, checking out his butt before pointing to the bathroom. He waddled his way into the room, flipping the switch on and tossing the contraceptive in the bin. Mingyu walked back in the bedroom, running his fingers through his damp hair.

You smirked, looking him up and down. "You know, you're really sexy, Gyu."

He waved you off, bending over to grab his and yours underwear. You gave him a wolf whistle and he covered his butt with his boxers before throwing your panties in your face and tossing your bra at you as well. Both of you laughed as you slipped your undergarments on and you put your bra on. Mingyu plopped back on the bed next to your right side. You and Mingyu stared at the ceiling, knowing that his indefinite leave will be even harder now.

After a long moment of silent staring, you spoke up. "If you find someone else, I don't want you to hold back."

Mingyu shifted his head to look at you. "What?"

A tear slipped past your eye. You turned your head to look at Mingyu as well. "I don't want to hold you back, Mingyu."

"But Y/N-" "No," you interrupted him. "You're an amazing guy, Mingyu. And I know that I'm not going to forget us or this night or any other nights we spent together. But Jeonghan doesn't approve of us. What if he wants you to be with someone else?"

Mingyu then turned his whole body towards you, laying his head on his hands. "I don't care what he wants. If it comes down to it, I'll tell him about us. I love you, Y/N. I want you and only you."

More tears began to fall, slipping out of the corner of your eyes. "I can't affect any of your decisions when it comes to your career though, Mingyu."

"Y/N, please. I can't lose you. Please just, let's give this a try? Please, just don't give up yet. I know we can do this." He cradled your cheek, wiping your tears away with his thumb. "Please," he begged.

You saw his eyes water, a tear forming before it slipped down the bridge of his nose and landing on the pillow. Taking a moment, you thought about what he asked. Could you really make this work? Will this make Mingyu deny roles that will keep him away from you longer? Was it selfish to want to make it work? Was it selfish that you wanted him to stay? Yes, but you knew you couldn't do that. "Okay," you whispered.

...

The next morning, you and Mingyu woke up in each other's arms. The two of you got up from bed, yawning and walking to the main room. You made breakfast while Mingyu helped in any way he could. He stopped you midway to finish and served you before himself. The day consisted of lounging around, watching tv, napping and making small meals whenever either of you got hungry.

The day after, you packed your things while Mingyu cleaned up and made sure everything looked the way it did when you got there. After you and Mingyu finished, you both stood in front of the doorway, taking in the last moments you'd be able to spend next to each other. You faced him. "I'm going to miss you so much."

He nodded his head, facing you as well. "Me too."

Both of you started tearing up before he pulled you in for a hug. His arms held your head, hugging you in a way you'll desperately miss when you wish he was there while he's away. You sobbed in his arms, muffling most of the noise in his shirt. Mingyu's tears fell in your hair—which he tried brushing off sneakily but failing. You laughed, pulling away and shaking your hair.

It was time.

You stood and looked at him one last time. You couldn't even go to the airport to say goodbye. Not only because of Jeonghan but because of paparazzi and fansites. "I love you, Gyu."

Mingyu pressed his lips together, his eyes glossed over from his tears as more shed down his cheeks. "I love you too, Y/N."

"Call me when you land?" You grabbed his hand and held it for a bit.

He nodded, picking up his bag with his unoccupied hand. He opened the door, and looked back at you. His hand slowly pulled from yours, a pout forming on his face. Mingyu's warmth left your palm as he looked away from you and began leaving the rental.

...

The whole ride back home, you cried your eyes out. Before getting back, you put on some black sunglasses, hopefully hiding your puffy eyes. You entered your house, already missing Mingyu's presence.

The rest of your day, you spent watching tv alone. At night, you got on your laptop, checking Twitter and seeing Mingyu's name trending.

Actor Kim Mingyu seen boarding plane with tear-filled eyes. What could possibly be breaking the 23 year old's poor heart?

You scrolled down the tag, seeing fansite photos and seeing how sad he looked. You got your phone out, sending him a message.

[11:19 pm] You: Hey babe. I seen the airport photos, I miss you and I love you. I hope you landed safe <3

You clicked your phone off and scrolled through a few more photos before heading to bed. He must've been too busy to call you.

...

Ring ring!

A phone call woke you up at the crack of dawn. You answered as fast as you could. "Hello?" You croaked, your morning voice definitely worse from all the bawling yesterday.

"Hey baby, I'm so sorry I didn't call yesterday."

You smiled at Mingyu's voice. "Hey, it's okay."

a/n: yerrr finally posted after ten years, hope u all enjoyed! <3 i feel like this wasn’t super interesting at all so feedback would be appreciated :(

#seventeen smut #seventeen imagine #seventeen scenario #mingyu smut #mingyu imagine #mingyu scenario #mingyu #kim mingyu #seventeen

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rpf-bat · 4 years ago

Text

Rocking Out Just For The Dead

Pairing: Frank Iero x Male!Reader

Genre: Romance, Drama

Summary: Requested by @kpopchangedmylifesstuff. You’re playing Download Festival 2007 with your band, Paramore. My Chemical Romance are headlining the festival. After your set, Frank invites you onto his tour bus, for a friendly battle of Guitar Hero 2. But, when the hanging out turns into something more, your bandmate, Josh Farro, threatens to destroy whatever you and Frank have.

You found yourself in Donington, England, playing your band’s brand new single, “Misery Business.” Okay - technically, Paramore wasn’t your band. You’d had no part in composing their new album, which would be dropping at the end of the week. But, their rhythm guitarist, Hunter, had recently quit, to go get married. Your longtime friend, Hayley, had called you up, and asked you to fill in for him, and you had jumped at the chance.

You had done this once before. Paramore’s bassist, Jeremy, had randomly quit in 2005 - right before the start of Warped Tour. You weren’t sure what had caused him to leave, but you played bass and guitar equally well, so Hayley had asked you to join her and the Farro brothers on tour. You had the time of your life that summer. You had been eighteen then, and had felt more than a little star-struck, when you met people in “bigger” bands.

Now twenty, you thought yourself older and wiser. You were determined to be a professional this time around. No petty fights with your bandmates. No acting like a fanboy around the guys playing the Main Stage. Download Festival - the final stop on their Europe tour - was going to go off without a hitch, dammit!

Jeremy, now back in the band, stood to the left of you on the stage. Josh, the guitarist, was on your right. You tried your best to keep your guitar playing in sync with them, as Hayley belted out the final chorus:

Whoa, I never meant to brag

But I got him where I want him now.

Whoa, it was never my intention to brag

To steal it all away from you now.

But God does it feel so good,

'Cause I got him where I want him now.

And if you could then you know you would.

'Cause God it just feels so...

It just feels so good…

Zach played the final drum beat, bringing the song to a close. The crowd cheered. You took Hayley’s hand, and took a bow. She grinned at you, before addressing the crowd.

“THANK YOU, DONINGTON!” she bellowed into the mic. “YOU’VE BEEN AN AMAZING CROWD! GOOD NIGHT!”

“It’s not really ‘night’ yet, you know,” you laughed, as you and the rest of the band walked off the stage. The sun hadn’t even set yet.

“Yeah, I know,” Hayley sighed. “They put us on this super early time slot.”

“Because nobody knows who we are,” Josh pointed out.

“Yeah, the headliners get the later time slots, because they’re more famous,” Jeremy nodded.

“Well, I think the crowd loved us,” Zach smiled optimistically.

“He’s right,” you agreed. “Hal, I think you really killed it out there!”

“Thanks,” your friend smiled, brushing her sweat-soaked orange hair out of her eyes. “I really appreciate you coming on this tour with us, Y/N. I know it was really short notice.”

“Wouldn’t have missed it for the world,” you smiled back.

“I thought your guitar playing was great tonight, man,” Jeremy complimented you. “A perfect grand finale.”

“Thanks, dude,” you beamed, as you grabbed a water bottle. These summer shows were way too humid.

“I don’t know about that,” Josh mumbled, as he wiped his face with a towel.

“What do you mean, you don’t know?” you frowned, setting your water bottle down.

“I thought your timing was off during ‘Emergency’,” Josh said critically.

“Oh….I’m sorry,” you frowned. “I tried to keep up with you…..”

“You should’ve tried harder,” Josh snapped, walking away from you, back towards the bus.

Wow, you blinked. What’s his deal?

The elder Farro brother had been needlessly rude to you, since the tour began. You honestly had no idea what you had done to get under his skin. But, you knew better, than to pick a fight with him. Zach was his brother, and Hayley was his girlfriend. You were just an outsider - a temporary, touring member of the band.

“Are you coming back to the bus with us, dude?” Zach asked, snapping you out of the thoughts you had gotten lost in.

“.....Nah,” you shook your head. “I think I’m gonna, um, walk around for a bit.”

“Oh,” Hayley frowned. “Okay. See you later, Y/N.”

You were pretty sure that she hadn’t heard what Josh had said. You saw no reason to tell her. It would just be starting drama.

She seemed oblivious to a lot of the tension between you and Josh. He was always on his best behavior, when he knew she was paying attention. But, if it came down to it, you doubted she would side with her guy friend, over her boyfriend.

It doesn’t even matter, you told yourself. This is the last show of the tour. On Monday, I’ll be heading home to Nashville. He won’t be my problem anymore.

You began wandering aimlessly around the festival grounds, with no real destination in mind.

‘Hey!” a voice called out to you.

You looked up, and saw a face you recognized - Frank Iero.

You had met him on Warped Tour, two years ago. His band, My Chemical Romance, had been headliners, playing the main stage. Tonight, they were headlining this festival, too. His band had gotten even more famous after the release of The Black Parade.

“Hey!” you greeted.

“Remember me?” Frank grinned. “I know it’s been a while.”

“How could I forget?” you chuckled. Your heart had been racing the first time you met him backstage, but he had just shook hands with you, like the difference between your bands, was no big deal. You’d had to remind yourself that you were there to play a gig, not ask for an autograph.

“How have you been, Frank?”, you asked, trying to play it cool.

“I’ve been good, Y/N,” Frank smiled. “How about you?”

Oh my god, you gulped. He remembers my name.

“I-I’ve been great,” you stammered, hoping he couldn’t tell you were blushing.

“I watched your set earlier,” Frank said cheerfully. “You were really good, dude.”

“I-I was?!” you gasped. “You don’t think I was playing too slow, or….?”

“Huh?” Frank blinked, confused. “No, you were amazing, bro. Your whole band was.”

Ha, you thought. Suck it, Josh.

“Thank you,” you said politely. “I’m probably going to go check out your band’s set, later, too.”

“We’ve still got a couple hours before we go onstage,” Frank shrugged. “Since your band already played, you’re free for the rest of the day, right?”

“Um, yeah,” you nodded, willing yourself to stop thinking gay thoughts about his new haircut. How did he get even better-looking after Revenge era? This is not even fair.

“We have a PlayStation on our bus,” Frank revealed. “I was wondering if you’d like to play some video games with Mikey and I, for a little while?”

“Oh, sure!” you accepted his offer, trying not to sound too eager. You remembered playing a Donkey Kong bongos game with Mikey a couple years back. You’d lost pretty quickly, and he’d gone to find Zach, hoping that the drummer of the group would give him more of a challenge. You were determined to look less lame this time.

You followed Frank to My Chemical Romance’s tour bus. He opened the door for you, and you followed him in. Mikey sat on the couch, holding a game controller.

“Hey, Mikey,” Frank greeted. “You remember Y/N, right? From Paramore?”

“Oh, hi, Y/N,” Mikey smiled. “Long time, no see, man!”

“No kidding,” you laughed. “How have you been, dude?”

“Pretty good,” Mikey replied. “The new record’s doing pretty well.”

This was perhaps the understatement of the year. The Black Parade had sold more copies in its first week, than Three Cheers For Sweet Revenge, had sold in two years. You weren’t sure if your own band would ever have that level of success.

“I bought a copy,” you confessed. “The day it came out.”

“Aw, thanks, bro, we appreciate the support,” Mikey smiled, sounding shockingly humble.

“When’s the new Paramore record coming out?’ Frank asked.

“June 12th,” you replied.

“Oh, wow, so in four days,” Frank realized.

“Yeah,” you nodded. “But, um, I didn’t help compose it.” You were just a touring member - not a full part of the band, as he was in his.

“I’m still gonna buy it,” Frank shrugged.

“Thanks,” you said awkwardly.

“So,” Mikey cleared his throat, “you’re gonna play Guitar Hero 2 with us, right, Y/N?”

“He just finished playing half an hour of guitar onstage,” Frank laughed. “You think he wants to play more?”

“I don’t mind sharpening my skills some more,” you shrugged.

“Whoa, you’re dedicated,” Mikey said, impressed.

Nah, you thought. I just wanna prove that Josh is wrong about my playing being shitty.

“Here,” Frank said, handing you the guitar-shaped controller. He pulled up the game menu, with the full list of songs. “We can do any track you want.”

“You’re going to play against me, in two-player mode?” you realized.

“Yeah,” Frank smirked. “What’s the matter? You scared of a little challenge?”

“No way,” you smiled slyly. “I bet I can take you.”

“Oh, wanna bet?” Frank raised an eyebrow. “Name the song. I’ll show you what I’ve got.”

“How about this one?” you decided, making a selection on the screen.

“Um, Y/N…..” Mikey’s eyes widened. “That’s ‘Dead’.”

“So what?” you smirked.

“So, that’s our song,” Mikey pointed out.

“I know what it is,” you said certainly.

“Wait, Y/N, are you serious?” Frank stared, mouth open in shock. “Of all the songs in the game, you want to challenge me with that one? The one I fucking wrote?”

“What’s the matter?” you asked, staring boldly into his hazel eyes. “You scared I’ll beat you at your own game?”

“As if,” Frank snorted. “I’ll tell you what, Y/N. If you can actually play ‘Dead’, better than the guy who plays it for a living, I’ll give you one of my fuckin’ guitars.”

“Seriously?” Mikey gaped. “You’d give one of those away?”

“He’s not gonna win, dude,” Frank said, with an air of certainty.

“You wanna bet?” you challenged.

“Okay, it’s a bet,” Frank decided.

“If I lose, you can have my guitar,” you wagered. Unlike him, you only had one. But, the tour was over, you considered. It wasn’t like you were going to need it again in the immediate future.

“It’s a deal,” Frank nodded, extending his hand to you. You shook on it.

“Well, this is going to be interesting,” Mikey said warily, as he handed Frank the second controller.

“What level do you want to play on?” Frank asked.

“Expert, of course,” you grinned. “We’re professionals.”

“Alright,” Frank grinned. “Just don’t come crying to me when you lose.”

“You’ll be the one crying when you have to give up your guitar, Iero,” you bantered, feeling cocky. You played Guitar Hero with Jeremy and Josh all the time, and you never lost. It always seemed to drive Josh fucking crazy.

He hit START, and an animated guitarist in a top hat waddled onto the screen. You heard Gerard’s vocals begin the song with a scream.

And if your heart stops beating

I'll be here wondering

Did you get what you deserve?

The ending of your life

And if you get to heaven

I'll be here waiting, babe

Did you get what you deserve?

You focused on the fret buttons on your controller. Your Rock Meter started at yellow, but the dial quickly went up to green. You didn’t miss any notes, but, of course, neither did Frank.

And if your life won’t wait, then your heart can’t take this….

You glanced at Frank. He waggled his eyes at you suggestively. You reddened. If he was trying to throw you off your game, he was succeeding. You told yourself sternly to focus. Then, the chorus kicked in.

Have you heard the news that you're dead?

No one ever had much nice to say

I think they never liked you anyway

Oh, take me from the hospital bed

Wouldn't it be grand? It ain't exactly what you planned

And wouldn't it be great if we were dead?

“Fuck!” you swore. You’d forgotten how fast this part was. Frank’s fingers were, of course, dancing over the “strings” with no problem. You knew you had to catch up to him.

You noticed your Star Power meter was almost full, so you waited for just the right moment.

Tongue-tied and, oh, so squeamish

You never fell in love

Did you get what you deserve?

The ending of your life

And if you get to heaven

I'll be here waiting, babe

Did you get what you deserve?

Just before the second chorus kicked in, you titled the neck of your guitar upwards, activating your Star Power. This meant you would get a quadruple bonus for whatever points you earned. You gave it your all on the chorus, and watched your score go up and up.

“Whoa!” Frank gasped, seemingly thrown off. To your surprise, he missed a note.

“Oh, man,” Mikey groaned, from his spectator spot on the couch.

It was still a pretty close match, when you got to the bridge. But, by the time you got to the outro, Frank seemed to be sweating. As Gerard’s prerecorded voice sang his final “la-la-la”s, the outcome became certain to you.

If life ain’t just a joke, then, why am I dead?

Oh, dead!

PLAYER ONE WINS!, read the screen, in bright, flashing letters. You realized, panting, that you were player one.

“I….I did it?” you gasped.

“Holy shit,” Frank gasped, dropping his controller in shock. “He actually won.”

He sank down onto the couch, like he couldn’t believe it.

“Are you….mad?” you frowned, wondering if you should have talked less trash.

“No, that was amazing!” Frank praised you. “I wasn’t expecting that at all.”

Despite your bravado, you hadn’t really been expecting to win, either. Whatever confidence you’d lost when Josh critiqued you, had been regained tenfold. Mikey gave you a slow clap.

“Well, a bet’s a bet,” Frank said finally, standing up, and walking to the other end of the bus.

“Where are you going?” you blinked.

“Getting this for you,” Frank smiled, handing you a gorgeous, white Epiphone guitar.

“Frank, you don’t have to….” you gasped.

“No, I’m a man of my word,” Frank insisted. “I’ll even help you carry it back to your bus.”

“You serious?” you asked, incredulous.

“Hey, man, you earned it,” Frank shrugged. He put the guitar in its case, and then put the case on his back. “Let’s go.”

“Thanks for hanging out with us, Y/N,” Mikey waved. “That showdown was pretty fun to watch.”

“See ya, Mikey,” you waved back. “Thanks for having me.”

You still couldn’t believe this had happened. They seemed so much cooler than you.

Frank was quiet at first, as you walked back to the Paramore bus. You felt awkward, unsure what to say to him.

“So,” he asked, “do you think that your bandmates are gonna be impressed, when they see the guitar you won?”

“I’m sure Hayley will,” you replied. “Josh….maybe not.”

“Why not?” Frank asked. “He’s the lead guitarist of your band. Wouldn’t that make him more impressed?”

“I don’t know,” you sighed. “I feel like he’s never impressed with anything I do.”

“What’s his beef with you?” Frank asked, looking annoyed on your behalf.

“I’m not sure,” you confessed. “Maybe it’s because he’s super Christian.”

“And you’re…..not Christian?” Frank guessed.

“And I’m gay,” you confessed.

“.....Oh.” Frank stopped in his tracks for a minute, seemingly taken aback by this.

Your face went red. Fuck. Maybe you shouldn’t have said that out loud.

“Do you, umm…..do you mind that?” you asked nervously.

“Pfft,” Frank scoffed. “Dude. You think I ‘mind’ gay guys? Have you missed the part, where I’ve spent half this tour, making out with Gerard, in front of thousands of people?”

“Are you and Gerard…..together?” you asked uncertainly.

“Oh, no,” Frank shook his head quickly. “I’m totally single.”

Your heart began to beat more quickly, as you noticed he said I’m single - not I’m straight. Were you reading him wrong? You wondered if you had the balls to make a move.

This is the last night of the tour, you told yourself. If I don’t say something right now, I won’t get another chance.

“Frank….”, you said, taking a deep breath, and telling yourself to man up. “I, um, I think you’re really cute.”

“Really?” Frank said, stepping closer to you. You felt the hot metal door of the bus against your back. “Y/N, I think you’re pretty cute, too.”

“Y-you do?” you breathed, your cheeks going hot as he leaned in. Was this real life? Or had the June heat made you start hallucinating?

“I do,” Frank smirked. “How about you give me my guitar back, and I give you a kiss instead?”

“Sounds like we have a deal,” you purred, and grabbed him by the collar, pulling him into a kiss hotter than the summer sun. He responded, eagerly, pressing you harder up against the door as his tongue found its way into your mouth. You moaned….

But, just then, you were launched violently forward, as the door swung open behind you. You and Frank hit the ground, as Josh came storming out of the bus.

“You guys are disgusting!” he growled.

“Dude, what’s your problem?!” Frank demanded, getting up, and brushing the dirt off his pants. He gave you his hand, and helped you up out of the grass.

“My problem is the display of perversion, that you two are putting on, in front of God and everybody!” Josh cried. “Do you have to do that in front of my bus?!”

“You think we’re perverts?” you gasped, shocked and hurt by his words.

“All gay men are perverts,” Josh sneered. “What kind of image are you setting for the band? A lot of our fans are Christian. They won’t buy our new record, if they see you behaving like this, Y/N!”

“Not every Christian is a homophobic piece of shit like you,” Frank snapped, putting himself between you and the irate guitarist.

“What did you just call me, you nancy boy?!” Josh hissed, and threw a punch in Frank’s direction.

Frank caught the punch in his hand. “I called you a piece of shit!” he repeated, before throwing a punch of his own. Unlike Josh’s, it connected, sending your homophobic bandmate down into the dirt.

“You’re gonna pay for that, Iero!” Josh yelled, wiping the blood from his nose. He tried to get up, but never made it off the ground, as Frank kicked him in the ribs.

“Frank, stop!” you cried. “That’s enough!”

“No, it’s not!” Frank said angrily. “You said it yourself, right, Y/N? This guy has been being a dick to you all summer, just because of your sexuality! That’s bullshit!”

He aimed another kick in Josh’s direction. You were surprised, how defensive Frank had become of you, despite knowing you for such a short time.

“What the hell is going on here?!” cried a familiar voice. You turned, and saw Zach approaching the bus, with Hayley close behind him.

“Hal and I leave for two seconds to go get snacks, and some asshole starts beating up my brother?!” Zach gasped.

“Josh, oh my god, are you okay?” Hayley gasped, running over to check out her boyfriend’s nosebleed.

“He’s not an asshole,” you explained. “Guys, this is Frank, from My Chemical Romance.”

“I don’t care what band he’s from,” Zach said angrily. “Why is he kicking Josh?”

“Because Josh called me a pervert,” you explained.

“A pervert?” Hayley repeated. “Why would he say something like that?”

“I said it, because this freak had his tongue down Y/N’s throat!” Josh explained.

“Wait, what?” Hayley blinked.

“We, um, yeah, we were kissing,” you admitted, embarrassed.

“You, um…..you like to kiss guys?” Zach asked awkwardly.

“Um, yeah,” you said, feeling uncomfortable. You had never come out to him. You knew he was a devout Christian, too, and had assumed he would hold the same views as his brother.

“That doesn’t make you a pervert,” Zach said, surprising you.

“But, what will the fans think?!” Josh demanded.

“Some of our fans are gay, too,” Hayley pointed out. “And there’s nothing wrong with it. I can’t believe you would call Y/N names, just for something like that.”

“Yeah, Josh, I’m really disappointed in you,” Zach frowned. You were stunned. You never expected him to take your side.

“You don’t think that what he and Frank are doing is a sin?” Josh asked.

“I think God loves everyone,” Zach said plainly. “And only He can judge Y/N. I’m not going to.”

“You guys can’t be serious!” Josh gaped.

“I’m seriously reconsidering your position in this band,” Hayley said, narrowing her eyes. “And in this relationship.”

“What? Babe….come on,” Josh pleaded. “Y-you wouldn’t dump me, and fire me, just because of this stupid fruit…..”

“Call him a fruit one more time,” Frank snarled. “See what happens, pal.”

“Frank, it’s okay,” you said, putting a hand on his shoulder. “I have my band on my side now, and that makes….all the difference.”

You were touched by their support. You had stayed silent this whole time, because you didn’t think you would have it.

“Y/N, I’m sorry that my brother treated you like this,” Zach said quietly. “I want you to know, I support you, and your boyfriend.”

“He’s not my boyfriend,” you shook your head. “We just kissed for the first time today, and….”

“I could be your boyfriend,” Frank said softly. “If you want me to.”

“Wait, what?”

“Do you want me to?” Frank asked, smirking at you.

“I….I’m supposed to be going home to Tennessee soon,” you hesitated. “And you live in New Jersey, so….”

“I’m in the most famous band in the world,” Frank said smugly. “I have a private jet that can take me wherever you are.”

“......Oh,” you blushed.

“So,” Frank repeated, leaning in closer again, “do you want me to be your boyfriend, Y/N?”

“....Yes,” you breathed. “Yes, I do.”

You pulled him into another kiss, not caring that the rest of your band was watching. Or how much it pissed Josh off. The tour was ending, but your once-in-a-lifetime romance was just beginning.

#frank iero x reader #male reader #frank iero imagine #fuck Josh Farro's homophobic bitch ass #homophobia tw

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natromanxoff · 4 years ago

Text

I am sure many of you have already read this one but here are some parts from Ash Alexander’s Queen journey for those who haven’t!

“...At some point in early At some point in early 1983 on a visit to Jacky at the QFC, John Deacon wondered into the office. He came into the basement office and said hello as Jacky introduced me, sat down and spent a little time reading through press clippings. He could easily have slipped away back upstairs, but the fact that he stayed was a nice touch.

Another fan club letter arrived with good news. In Another fan club letter arrived with good news. In November 1983, fan club members were invited to help in a video for the new single 'Radio Ga Ga' at Shepperton Studios. Again, my Mum stepped up and drove me down for the day. I took the day off school and had just turned 14. We arrived at the studio and were ushered into a huge hanger where we were kitted out with white body suits and then sprayed with a light grey stripe on each arm - even now I’m not sure what the spray paint was for as you can’t see it in the video. When we had all been prepared, we were taken into an adjoining hanger and were greeted by the band and an initial play through of the song. The rest of the day was spent clapping as you’ll see in the video. I wound up in the front row, opposite Brian. If you look closely and you know what you’re looking for, you can see me!

In between takes, I approached John Deacon who was surprisingly on his own. I remember trying to remain calm as I approached him. I didn’t mention our brief meeting, I asked him how to get a job in recording studios and that I was interested in pursuing a career as a sound engineer. He was really helpful and took time to explain the usual route.

On 22, March 1984 at Limehouse Studios in London’s docklands, the video for ‘I Want To Break Free’ was filmed, again with the help of fan club members. I went along with my brother Andrew. The set was a big dark staircase that we all stood on. We were given black bodysuits this time that were sprouted with hello paint on the arms. We also wore a hard hat with a head lamp attached to it. The band were set in the middle of us all. After all the filming, we returned to the main building where we said hello to Roger. He’d come out to say thanks. Later, waiting for a cab down in reception, Freddie glided down the staircase and past us with his entourage. I remember wanting to get up and say thanks, but the opportunity was missed.

...20th April 1992. My friend Chesney Hawkes was managed by Trinifold. They also managed The Who. He invited me along to the Freddie Mercury Tribute gig at Wembley. Roger Daltry was appearing and Ches had a spare ticket. He only had one backstage pass though. This was overcome by him befriending the chap on the security door. Ches came out to meet me with his pass. He returned on his own and got in. I confidently flashed my pass and entered the Hard Rock tented area. Ches beckoned me over from the other side of the room. He was signing autographs for a lady, her two children and an older lady was with them. He introduce me to them saying I was a huge Queen fan. ‘This is Freddie’s mother' he whispered to me. I remember saying to her that I wish we’d met under different circumstances and how deeply sorry I was about her loss and how incredibly proud she should be. I often wonder about her.

...In Spring 1993, I was in front office. It was well after midnight and I’d left a s session for a little break. As usual, I took a look in the studio diary to see what was coming up. I flicked through the weeks and came upon an booking entry “Studio 3 - QUEEN” for 2 weeks that was pencilled in. There was no further info than that. I put my initials next to the booking thinking there would be a rational explanation as to what the booking really was. I soon found myself on a 2 week session with Queen.My diary from 1993 is lost, so I have only a mental note as to when & what songs were touched upon at this initial stage of 'Made In Heaven'. We started taking delivery of various multitrack tapes on varied formats. These were then transferred to digital 48 track tapes for future work. Roger & John were alone on these sessions as Brian was touring in Japan. I remember Roger being rather dismissive of Brian being unavailable, much like a brother sledging his sibling would do, with a slightly jealous edge but genuine at the same time.

...Over the 2 week session, Roger would suggest we went out for dinner. We had 3 or 4 meals out at a local Italian restaurant. Even now I laugh at jumping into the back of Roger’s Merc and the four of us driving down Abbey Road to the restaurant. It was owned by an Italian lady that would force you to smell her ‘wonderful mushrooms’ from a jar, which she made Roger do. On our initial meal she told Roger he looked familiar. ‘I know you’, she said. ‘Where have I seen you before?’ ‘Well, I’m in a band and we’ve been on TV before.’ Roger replied. John seemed calm with his lack of recognition. ‘What group do you play for?’ she asked. ‘I’m the drummer in a rock n roll band called Queen’ he replied. ‘No - I don’t hear of this band’ …We finished our food and the bill was called for. It showed up. John took it and asked Roger if he should use the Queen card to pay for it or his own card.

Roger’s drum kit arriving half way through the first week of sessions was a surprise for Noel Harris (the engineer) & me. We expected the sessions to be playing back tapes and working through the various formats to find possible material to be worked on at a later date. Noel was unfamiliar with the room in studio 3 and asked my opinion where to set the kit up and what microphones I would use. Eventually he left me to it. The kit was positioned and I mic’d it up that evening. John had his red Fender bass DI’d (no amp was used) and sat with us in the control room. I doubt these recordings made it through to the final mixes, it’s nice to think that they did.

...Tuesday 5th September

During the afternoon Brian’s guitar and a Vox AC30 appeared in the studio, brought in by Pete Malandrone. We were to do guitar overdubs on ‘You Don't Fool Me’. David asked me to put two Shure 421 microphones pointing into the back of the speaker cabinet. We did have two SM57’s on the front but these weren’t used in the recording.

I had to do a recall of the mix, which meant noting all of the studio outboard settings so we could get back to the mix and finish it off.

We had a technical problem with the Sony 3348 tape machine and eventually had it swapped for a new one. Brian clearly wasn’t aware we weren’t ready for him. I was half way through telling him and Jim Beach jumped in and finished off my explanation. Brian got really cross with him and slammed an empty coffee mug down on the studio table. Later Brian was so apologetic for his outburst. He must have told Jim he was sorry 4 times. As I type this I note it was Freddie’s birthday.

Brian slipped on his guitar that was linked to his amp with one lead. No pedals. His sound was instant and we were soon ready to record. He stood in front of the console in the control facing David & me.

Brian had an idea of what he wanted to play. The guitar riff had already been recorded. The solo guitar is what was added. Brian used a scrap of paper that he drew a map of dots on. Not like musical notation but his own short hand. It reminded me of being at the 'Radio Ga Ga' video shoot 13 years earlier. I was the same distance from Brian as I was then, but the scenario was beyond my imagination.

...Friday 8th September

Day Off - I may have met Pete Malandron at the Sun Inn in Barnes this afternoon. The QIFC was based round the corner at the time & Brian had a house there too, although I'm not sure he lived there at the time. I was with a friend and Pete joined us in the pub. He sat near the window and kept looking out of it. I asked what he was looking at and he replied "I always get worried when I'm out with Brian's guitar. It's in the boot of the car you see." He stayed for one drink and decided it was time to leave.

...One of the evenings of this second week, George Michael came to visit. There was a strong possibility that he would sing on one of the songs. Roger, John, Brian, David, George & I sat chatting in the control room. One of the conversations moved onto the Beatles and their current 'best of' release. I think Brian suggested that it was a bad idea releasing all their old material and I piped up that the fans would buy it regardless, much like the scenario Queen were about to face with the imminent release of the album. There was a deathly hush as I realised what I was saying. I wasn’t being at all derogatory. I was helped out of the hole I was digging by George who agreed with me and we moved on. No one actually spoke about doing a vocal. After George left the studio that evening, Roger was clear that he wasn’t keen on the idea.After looking through the Vintage Car garage across the road from the studio one afternoon, Roger saw a black Cadillack convertible that he quite liked. The following morning he came into the studio and said ‘Don’t tell Jim, but I bought the car.’ It was £80, 000.

Brian asked me if had been involved in the Abbey Road Sessions. Perhaps he’d seen my name on the tape boxes. I said that I was. Immediately he made a phone call. I didn’t hear all that he said, but I knew it was about a special thanks on the album credits. The following morning, after the artwork had been finalised, Roger came in and said ‘morning Aardvark’. Because the special thanks were alphabetic, I was on top of the list. It wasn’t until I bought a copy of the album and saw my name on it that I finally took on board that I had actually achieved one of my dreams.”

#queen #queen band #roger taylor #brian may #john deacon

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