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fandomwriterstuff · 3 years

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Getaway Car

Another plot-filled Rick Flag fic from me! I might add another chapter if this goes over well so let me know your thoughts!

~2.2k words

Rated T

You're the Suicide Squad's getaway driver and you're got a serious crush on their commanding officer, Rick Flag.

You were what one might call a liability in the operation. You weren’t a soldier under Amanda Waller’s thumb, and you weren’t a prisoner that she could threaten. You were purely there for the thrill at first. But you kept coming back for him. Rick Flag. The commanding officer of your dreams, a real hero. You weren’t sure if you idolized him or wanted to fuck him. Maybe it was a bit of both.

But as you sat in the car and eyed up the team sprinting out of the building, you skipped to your getaway song - Brianstorm by Arctic Monkeys - and revved the engine.

“Punch it, Baby!” Harley cackled as the three prisoners (plus Rick) slammed themselves into your vehicle.

You didn’t need to be told twice.

You thought it over as you narrowly evaded enemy trucks and sped down a dirt road. You were technically working for the law, so they shouldn’t need a getaway car, but they always were getting themselves into tight spots so you supposed it made sense.

It was a few minutes of beating drums, wild guitar solos, and Harley’s cackles as the playlist continued (House of the Rising Sun by the Animals came on just as you dared to slow down). You finally looked over to your right, and raised an eyebrow.

“You doing alright, Colonel?” You took stock of the dark, wet blood covering the left side of his face and the way he was cradling his right fist.

“Never better, darlin,” he offered you a signature smirk and you gave a nod before turning back to the road. You were on a main stretch now, paved and full of other vehicles. You’d likely lost your pursuers but it was your job to get away from them, so you kept an eye on the horizon behind you.

“How you always seem to be in the right place at the right time blows my mind, kid,” Boomer huffed a relieved laugh from the backseat.

“That’s sort of my job,” you replied in kind, smirking into the rearview mirror as you pulled onto the highway that would take you straight back to Belle Reve.

“You don’t talk about your job much though, I noticed,” he pushed and you rolled your eyes. You didn’t talk about yourself, and you didn’t talk about how you got into the getaway business.

“I like to have an air of mystery,” you caught the amused smile Rick tried to hide and brushed your hair back out of your eyes.

“What I’m wonderin,” he continued as if you hadn’t spoken, his accent coming through as he leaned forward through the gap between you and Rick. “Is how a pretty young thing like you got involved with a cold hearted bitch like Amanda Waller.”

You tightened your grip on the wheel (hopefully imperceptibly), and offered a light smile over to him.

“We’ve all got a past, Boomerang Man. Mine didn’t land me in prison, but I’m still here working for you weirdos,” you laughed and signaled your exit towards the Louisiana based metahuman prison.

“I’ll get your story some day, sweet cheeks, you’ll see,” he leaned back as you showed your identification to the guard and pulled into the penitentiary.

After you let the three prisoners off at their dropoff location (like a bunch of kindergarteners going to school), you pulled up to the employee parking area.

“You sure you’re alright?” You were quieter this time, worriedly glancing over at Rick again now that you were alone.

“Don’t you go worrying about me, pretty girl,” he pulled out all the stops with the cute pet name and the thousand megawatt smile, eyes warm and inviting. You were a goner, and you immediately dropped the subject. “I’ll see you in the debrief room,” you sighed after he’d closed the door and pulled the vehicle into your spot.

Another day, another debrief with that fucking psychopath Waller.

You smoothed down your jeans and t-shirt, you might work for the (wo)man, but you weren’t about to dress like a stuck up business person, or like a prison guard. You were too young for that bullshit.

“Baby,” Amanda Waller greeted you as you passed her into the meeting room. You hid your smirk, as you always did, when you took your seat. You’d forged all of your documentation upon taking this job, knowing that you didn’t want this woman knowing anything about your personal life. She didn’t know your real name, hell, she might not even know that Baby was your pseudonym. You sort of felt bad that you hadn’t ever told Rick your name, but you couldn’t risk it.

The debrief was a mess. You’d gotten out with the information the team went in for, but two out of the four of them were injured. Including the Colonel.

“Seems like the only person doing their job here is the fucking chauffer,” Waller spat before turning her eyes on a still-bloodied Rick Flag. “You can do better than this,” she spoke quietly before walking out. The others emptied out, leaving you leaning back in your chair, cotton candy pink Barbie™ t-shirt nearly glowing in the fluorescent lighting.

“I think you’re going to give her an aneurysm. She doesn’t know your identity and you don’t follow the dress code,” Rick had his eyes closed at the end of the long table, but he somehow knew you were alone in there together. You bit your lip. So she knew ‘Baby’ was a pseudonym. Good to know.

“She can’t get rid of me, she needs me,” you shrugged, nonchalant, but this was the wrong answer and you knew it immediately. You’d been working with Rick long enough to see the telltale signs of stress. Tightened shoulders, biceps bulging in his uniform, that vein struggling at his throat.

“You should be out there living your life, Baby,” his eyes shot open, darker than you’d ever seen them. “You shouldn’t be working yourself to death for Amanda Waller. Not like me and these guys. You don’t have a reason to be here,” you looked down, picking at the skull ring on your middle finger. You did have a reason. You were addicted to the feeling of being near Rick. You were obsessed with the way he spoke to you, the way he leaned in close when he was joking around with you, the way his eyes lit up when you made him laugh.

“I’m not about to tell you my life story in an audio and visually recorded meeting room,” you finally spoke, tone harsher than you intended. You stood, turned away from him and towards the door, your voice carrying as you exited. “You’re gonna have to buy me a drink if you want to get anything out of me.”

You didn’t look back to see the slack-jawed look on his face as you sauntered out of the debrief room.

You were in the deep swamp lands of Central Florida this time. Not your favorite place to be. You were blasting the air conditioning in the car as Stick Up by grandson blasted through the car stereo, your favorite angry song to listen to. This wasn’t a job you wanted to be on, but you had a contract and you were making money, and you got to work with Rick again, so it was alright. But it was a new team. Harley was out of jail and Boomer was injured from a prison fight. They were the two people you normally worked with other than Rick.

You had a gut feeling that something was going to go down, but you didn’t know what.

“Start the car!” one of the new members shouted and you frowned. The car was on already. But whatever, you shifted into Drive and waited for Rick and Co. to make it to the car. Only it was just the one guy. He hopped into the backseat and stared at you with wide eyes.

“What are you doing, get us out of here!” He was shouting but you aggressively put the car into Park.

“Where’s Rick? Where’s the rest of the team?”

“Dude, get us out of here!” The man was clearly panicking, and you glanced over at the building the team were supposed to infiltrate, biting your lip.

“Baby, why aren’t you moving?” Waller asked in your ear.

“It’s just the circus freak dude, no Rick, and no team members,” you replied calmly. “What are my orders?”

“Get us out!” The circus freak dude in question (you didn’t bother to ask his name), was bemoaning your existence from the backseat and you snapped. You jerked the center console open and pulled out your gun, pointing it back at him.

“Shut your mouth, or I’ll shut you up myself,” you put all of your fear, rage, and contempt into your glare, staring down the psycho prisoner just enough to put the fear of a woman into him, and he backed down.

“Colonel Flag is alive in there, but he’s the last one. Get in there, pick him up, and get out,” you grinned, shark-like at Waller’s voice. You could do that. You revved the engine, put the car into Drive, and hauled ass towards the building. You tuned out the moaning and wailing from the backseat and flicked the switch that activated your enhanced shields. With that in place, you drove straight towards the brick building at full speed. You could do this. You could do this. You hyped yourself up and didn’t flinch when the car made impact with the wall, immediately breaking through and skidding into a large open room. You looked around, assessing the group of men with guns pointing towards a closed door. Rick must be in there. You flipped another switch, this one with a gun sticker above it, and pulled at the steering wheel to aim the guns that came out of the front of the car. When all of the men finally turned towards you, you opened fire on them.

You’d killed for Waller before, usually by hitting people with the car, and while this was thrilling, you’d never had to actually use a gun on someone before. When they were all down, you pulled the car up, trying to ignore the crunching of bodies under the tires and opened the passenger side window.

“Get in the fucking car, Flag,” you screeched, and the door creaked the tiniest bit open. Rick peeked his head out, looked around for a hot second before locking eyes with you, and walked over before putting his ass in the passenger seat.

“I didn’t know the car had a gun in it,” he muttered, scratching at the back of his neck.

“Oh she has several,” the circus dude piped up from the back, and Rick side eyed you before promptly yelling at the other for leaving him behind. You took that as your cue to get the fuck out of there.

“You haven’t said anything in two hours,” Rick finally said as you entered Louisiana. He’d been on the phone with Waller for a while and then writing his debrief up on his phone.

“I’ve never shot anyone before. It’s a tad stressful,” you didn’t let on how nerve-wracking it had been to think you’d lost him, but you especially didn’t let on how freaked out you were about opening fire on a group of over a dozen men. You shrugged and kept your eyes on the road. He nodded in understanding. You didn’t want to talk about it. You appreciated his silence. When you finally dropped the circus dude off you had about six minutes before making it back to Rick’s dropoff.

“Baby?” He asked as you slowed down for a stop sign. You hummed in question, but he put his hand over yours, and you kept your foot on the brake as he shifted the car into park. You looked over at him, a frown on your face until he reached out and cupped your jaw with one calloused palm. His thumb brushed over your bottom lip and it felt like time wasn’t passing anymore.

“Thank you for coming back for me,” he murmured, and damn you thought he might kiss you. He didn’t, though. He tucked a stray piece of hand behind your ear, the feel of his fingertips caressing your neck made you shiver, and he smirked at the sight. It suddenly dawned on you.

He knew exactly what he did to you. He knew exactly how he was making you feel. That turned you the fuck on. He was teasing you.

“I think I’d like to take you out for that drink tonight, darlin. Maybe you’ll give me a good story. Maybe I’ll finally get your name,” he was so close to you, and god but you wanted to kiss him. But as you leaned in, he leaned back with a growing grin.

“Who knows, maybe you’ll get what you want, too,” he whispered before sitting back in his seat. “I’ll grab you after the debrief,” and that was him dismissing your advances until a later time. So, you put the car into Drive and pulled up to his drop off location. Luckily it had taken all day to get back to Belle Reve, so you’d only have to wait for the debrief to be over and it would be around eight at night. You’d finally get a drink with Rick tonight. You smiled to yourself as you pulled the car into your spot. Things would be changing.

#rick flag imagine #rick flag x you #rick flag imagines #rick flag x reader #rick flag #rick flag x female reader #baby driver inspired #dceu fanfiction #rick flag fanfic #rick flag fanfiction #rick flag dc #the suicide squad #getaway car

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nicknellie · 4 years

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@millie-andrews-rose requested: Alex gets put with a bully on a paired project, so Willie goes with him when they work on it to help him stay calm. Willie and the boy bond over skateboarding and Alex gets jealous, causing an argument between them. The boy then apologises to Alex for being so awful. Alex and Willie make up and it ends with their first “I love you”s. (This was edited/simplified just to make it shorter.)

This is the longest oneshot I’ve ever written and I absolutely love it. I really hope I’ve done you proud, especially since this was such a great prompt! Thanks!

And It’s Not My Fault

Alex adored projects. He loved having something big to focus on, a goal to work towards, something to keep him preoccupied. Any big time-consuming task was a lot of fun for him whether it was a five-thousand-piece jigsaw puzzle or work for school worth a large part of his grade. There was, however, a single word that could be placed before the ‘project’ that would instantly transform it from Alex’s dream to his worst nightmare.

The word wasn’t ‘group’ as it would be for a lot of people. Alex liked group projects almost as much as he liked solo projects. Group projects were what he did with Julie, Luke, and Reggie almost every day, jamming in the studio and working towards having a complete set list in time for an upcoming gig. Group projects were what he occasionally did with Carrie and the girls of Dirty Candi when he would assist them with some choreography. Group projects were even tolerable with people Alex didn’t know well because he knew how they were supposed to work and usually he could convince everyone to do their fair share. So group projects were fine.

The word the ruined any chance of Alex having fun was ‘paired’.

Paired projects were the worst type of project. They always spelled trouble and Alex had never got a decent grade on one in his whole school career. It never felt like his fault, but when he thought about it he was the common denominator in every nightmare paired project scenario, so he had long ago decided that there must be something about paired projects that he was simply doing wrong.

Maybe it was that he wasn’t good one-on-one. Alex had always functioned better in groups (albeit small ones that couldn’t be overwhelming) and being face to face with just one person could be stressful. It was fine if it was a friend, and more than fine if it was his boyfriend, but when alone with a stranger Alex found himself running out of things to say and having nowhere to turn when the awkward silences set in. Or if he didn’t run out of things to say he would eventually say the wrong thing and that would start an entirely new alarm bell ringing in his mind as he panicked about accidentally being offensive. Overall, conversations without his emotional support band could be frustrating at best and somewhat dangerous at worst.

Perhaps it was true that Alex was the link in all these situations, but what he had always failed to consider was the fact that he had never been paired in a project with somebody who was actually willing to try and do well, which perhaps was a more prominent reason he’d never received a decent grade.

Alex had been having a good day. He was feeling bright for no reason in particular – needlessly optimistic days like this were his favourite, even though they usually were followed by needlessly pessimistic days as all those bad feelings caught up with him at once. Still, by now Alex had learnt to clutch that senseless joy while it was there and relish it before it was gone.

The joy was gone by noon.

“Alright, class,” Ms Osbourne said, clapping her hands to gain the class’s attention.

Alex hated his English classes. While he was good at English and rather enjoyed the subject itself, his class was rowdy and unruly and made it difficult to concentrate, while Ms Osbourne was a teacher so strict that if someone so much as thought about breaking a rule she would be able to sniff it out like a dog – but her bark was worse than her bite, and while she would shout an unnatural amount she rarely doled out punishments. The combination made for a lesson that was purely people shouting and no work being done.

The class quieted to a steady hum of chatter which was usually as silent as Ms Osbourne could get it. She smiled, though it didn’t reach her eyes, and continued. “Seeing as the end of the semester is coming up, I’m going to be setting you a project that will be worth forty percent of your grade. Essentially, it’s your final exam on our study of Macbeth.”

Alex perked up a little. He had been assigned projects for a lot of classes, but English projects were always the most enjoyable – they involved a lot of writing, which most people hated, but Alex found therapeutic; the only downside was that the source material was usually dreadfully dull. Still, Alex suddenly found himself looking forward to it.

And then she had to go and ruin it.

“I will tell you your assigned partners at the end of the lesson.”

Alex felt himself deflate and heaved a sigh. It had been too good to be true. Now he was going to be stuck on some boring project with a random student from his awful English class because he had no friends in this lesson and it was going to be horrible. It was all he could do to not let his head fall onto the table and scream in furious defeat.

It was on his mind all lesson. Who he was going to be with, what specific things the project would be on, how he could get out of it. His mind was buzzing with questions, building up energy that released itself by making his leg bounce up and down. Several times he found himself tapping out a rhythm on the table like it was his drumkit, his bouncing leg acting as if it was pounding the bass drum, and he had to force himself to stop and actually pay attention to the lesson.

The end came painfully slowly. The school bell rang and most of the students were up out of their seats immediately, ready to leave.

“Hang on,” Ms Osbourne yelled. “Everyone sit back down! I need to tell you your partners for the upcoming project.”

Alex listened attentively as she reeled off a list of names. Most people let out an annoyed groan when they found out they weren’t with a friend, and there was the occasional excited, “Yay!”

Alex knew he wouldn’t be one of the ones celebrating.

“Alex Mercer,” Ms Osbourne said eventually, pushing her glasses further up her tiny nose. “Your partner is Harry Reynolds.”

“Oh god,” Alex murmured. He felt his stomach squirm just as somebody kicked the back of his chair so hard that he jolted forward and nearly whacked his face on the table. The person laughed a moment later, obnoxiously loud, begging for retaliation – Alex didn’t dare turn around to look at them.

He knew already that it was Harry Reynolds sat behind him who had kicked his chair. His project partner, and possibly the worst person in the class that it could have been. For reasons unknown to Alex, Harry had always had it out for him. In middle school he had pushed Alex down a flight of stairs and he had landed unceremoniously in a trash can – Harry had started calling him Bin Boy and the nickname had stuck for a year afterwards; Harry was the only one who used it anymore though. Since then, Harry had just been a general jerk towards him, and upon hearing that they were going to be partners, Alex’s whole body told him to run.

Run where? Alex thought. This wasn’t a problem he could run from. Besides, Harry could probably run faster.

“Looks like it’s you and me, Bin Boy,” came Harry’s voice from behind. “I’m sure we’ll have loads of fun.”

Ms Osbourne finally finished listing pairs and then announced, “These partners are non-negotiable. I will not indulge any requests to switch for any reason. Life isn’t fair, sometimes we have to work with people we don’t like. Get used to it. Now go on, you’re already late for your next class.”

Alex wasn’t usually one to ignore instructions, but as the rest of the class filed out into the hallway he remained behind. He didn’t know what he was planning to say to Ms Osbourne, but he desperately needed to find a way out of the project, or at least switch partners.

“Go on, Alex,” Ms Osbourne said, “you’re going to be late.”

He swallowed thickly and said, “Miss, I was just wondering about the proj–”

“You’re not swapping partners,” she returned sternly. “I’ve already said this. I won’t make any allowances.”

“But, Miss, I can’t work with him,” Alex protested. She raised her eyebrows and started walking around the room, putting sheets on each table for her next class. Alex followed her as she went. “He hates me! It’s going to be awful.”

“Well, maybe the two of you can use this as a way to bond and get to know each other better, hm?”

“Miss, please,” Alex said, his desperation finally rearing its ugly head in his voice. He could feel his legs shaking and his hands wringing themselves together and his head tingling in a way he couldn’t describe, and finally he broke. “He has it out for me and I don’t even know why! He’s been awful to me ever since we were kids, he tries to pick fights with me, he calls me names. Last year he chased me around the field with a baseball bat for a whole PE lesson! If I have to work with him I’ll just end up panicking – or dead, that’s also a possibility – and the project will go terribly and I’ll fail the class. Please can I just work by myself?”

Ms Osbourne’s expression softened as she look at Alex over her glasses. For a moment, Alex’s hopes were raised just that tiny bit – maybe he had got through to her, maybe she would see sense.

But then her face turned to stone again.

“No,” she spat. “What you can do is figure out with Harry when the two of you are going to work on this project and how you’re going to go about it. And you can get to your next class.” She turned away with a cold air of finality. Alex could have sworn he actually felt chills.

Without a word, Alex heaved his bag onto his shoulder and made his way out of the classroom, crushed and dejected. He stared down at his feet as he walked and tried not to think about what the next few weeks could have in store for him.

Lunch couldn’t have come sooner. After what felt like an eternity, Alex finally made his way down to the cafeteria to meet up with his friends. If there was any one thing that was guaranteed to cheer Alex up when he was in a bad mood, it was the good company of his band and his boyfriend.

The rest of the group was already sat at their usual table when Alex arrived in the cafeteria; just seeing them laughing and joking together put the tiniest hint of a smile of his face. He headed over to them, but was stopped in his tracks by somebody stood in front of him – it was Harry Reynolds.

The boy had his arms crossed over his massive chest and was leering down at Alex with an expression of disgust. Alex tried to look past him at his friends, to get their attention, to ask for help, but they hadn’t seen him. Instead, he forced himself to look up into Harry’s brutish face and try not to squirm.

“Partners, huh?” Harry grunted. “I’m failing English so you’ll need to get us a good grade.”

“That’s the plan,” Alex said, willing his voice not to shake. It wasn’t that he was too frightened or intimidated by Harry, it was just the fact that he really didn’t feel like getting chucked in a bin today. One wrong move and he could consider that a real possibility.

“Be at my place on Saturday at one. Bring all your notes – I don’t have any.”

“I can’t do Saturday,” Alex told him, shoving his hands in his pockets. “I have band practise.”

Harry took a step closer. Alex couldn’t move back – his feet were rooted to the spot. “You think I care about your dopey little band practise? You’ll be there. That’s that.”

Alex swallowed, nodded hurriedly, and finally forced himself to take a step back so that he wasn’t chest to chest with Harry. “I’ll be there,” he echoed, still nodding.

Harry snarled, condescendingly patted Alex on the head, and walked off. Alex took a moment to collect himself, to breathe, to remind himself that he was okay and he wasn’t hurt, that Harry hadn’t done anything. He steadied himself and kept walking towards his friends, trying to mask the worry on his face.

Of course, he failed miserably.

The moment Alex sat down in his usual space between Willie and Luke, Willie took his hand, watching him with concern. “Hey,” Willie said gently, “what’s up?”

Julie, Luke, and Reggie immediately stopped their conversation, turning to face Alex and Willie. Alex hated the way they were looking at him, like he’d break if they dropped him, but it wasn’t like he could ask them to stop caring – instead, he looked at each of them, trying and failing to give them a reassuring smile before he spoke.

“Nothing,” Alex said, “nothing, it’s just… just this project for English.”

Luke sighed dramatically. “Has your class got that stupid Shakespeare assignment too? I get it, bro, it’s totally pointless–”

“No,” Alex interrupted quietly. “No, that’s not it. Well, kind of. Yeah, we’ve got the Shakespeare assignment but that’s not… not the problem.”

“What is it?” Willie prompted gently when Alex didn’t continue.

Alex shrugged. “It’s stupid.”

Julie leaned over the table and grasped Alex’s other hand. “Alex, your feelings are not stupid.”

She smiled warmly. Funny things happened when Julie smiled – when she did it to Luke, it wasn’t uncommon for him to literally trip over himself; when she did it to Reggie, it made him smile in return for hours on end; and when she did it to Alex, it gave him such overwhelming confidence that for a moment or two he could truly do anything.

“It’s just that we were assigned partners and I got stuck with Harry Reynolds,” he admitted, clutching Willie and Julie’s hands tighter. “It’s nothing and I shouldn’t be worried but–”

“It’s not nothing,” Willie said. Alex couldn’t quite read his expression – it looked to be something between sympathy and outrage. “That guy is the worst. Did you talk to your teacher about it?”

Alex nodded gravely. “She wouldn’t let me switch.”

“How much did you tell her?” Willie asked.

“What I thought would have been enough,” he replied, shrugging like it was nothing. “But it wasn’t.”

“She should be fired for that,” Reggie interjected. Everyone turned to look at him. “I’m just saying – if by ‘enough’ you mean that you told her what a jerk he’s been to you then she should follow that up and treat it like an issue instead of making you work with him.”

What would have been wise words were ruined slightly by the fact that Reggie spoke them around a mouthful of pizza.

“Reggie’s right,” Julie said, “she’s definitely in the wrong here.”

“I know that,” Alex told them, because he did, that much was obvious. “But it’s a little late for that now. I’m stuck with him.”

Willie clutched his hand tighter, threaded their fingers together. Alex leaned to the side, rested his head on Willie’s shoulder. Julie let go of his hand and Willie immediately picked it up – he smiled a little at both of them.

“I know saying it’s all going to be okay won’t help,” Willie whispered to him, “but you’ve got to try and believe that it will. And if it isn’t, I am just one call away. If you need anything – I mean anything – you call me and I will be there. Okay?”

Alex’s tense muscles relaxed the tiniest bit. “Okay,” he muttered back. “That’s okay.”

Willie kissed the top of his head and a fraction of Alex’s anxiety lifted. Willie would be there when he needed him no matter what. That was something he could always count on.

Luke hadn’t been happy when Alex had called him early on Saturday morning to tell him he wouldn’t be coming to band practise that day. He had given Alex a half-hour-long earful about how they had a gig coming up in a few days’ time and they needed to be rehearsing like crazy. It hadn’t been pleasant for Alex in the slightest, but at least it had been a welcome distraction from the other thing on his mind, the reason he had had to cancel band practise in the first place.

It was the day he was supposed to go to Harry’s house to work on their project. Alex had hardly slept the night before – he had lay awake in bed for hours, tossing and turning, trying to empty his mind and relax, but sleep just wouldn’t come. At half past two he had crept downstairs and made a batch of brownies using a recipe of his grandmother’s. At the time he’d thought that maybe he could use them to placate Harry once he got to his house, but he’d accidentally ended up stress-eating the entire batch instead.

He felt sick, but couldn’t tell if it was the brownies or the anxiety. Probably an unhealthy mix of both, he decided.

But he had passed the first hurdle and he told himself to be proud of that – he had arrived outside Harry’s house. It was a small bungalow on a road that led nowhere and Alex was struck by how normal it looked. It didn’t look like the sort of place somebody like Harry Reynolds should have lived; Harry was larger than life, tall and brooding, moody and mean – this house looked as if its occupants sold flowers and rescued kittens in their spare time.

Despite the outward appearances of the house, Alex was almost certain that he was in the right place. The front window seemed to show Harry’s bedroom because through it Alex could see innumerable trophies, all for different sporting events; a large stack of magazines (Alex was sure he could already guess what each contained); and a small enclosure that looked to Alex unbearably similar to a tank that might house a snake or a spider or any other creature that Alex would have preferred stayed thousands of miles away from him where it belonged.

He could not make himself walk into the house.

He had been trying for almost fifteen minutes and had walked past the house almost thirty times. He had counted his steps and was somewhere near eight thousand. His mind was racing, shooting through a hundred anxieties before Alex had the chance to dwell on any of them – maybe that was for the best. But it didn’t help the fact that he could not force his legs to walk in the direction of the door.

The worries stopping him weren’t even big ones like ‘What if he tries to hurt me?’ which Alex stressed over every time he interacted with Harry. It was the little things and the impossible things pricking the back of his mind like needles: What if he doesn’t answer the door? What if nobody’s home? What if I’m at the wrong house? What if he’s changed his mind? What if I got the wrong day? What if I got the wrong time? What if he’s not actually my project partner? What if… What if… What if…

What if I call Willie?

Alex blessed his brain for having its first sensible thought that day. He fished his phone out his pocket and called Willie, who picked up after one ring.

“Hey,” Willie said, “what’s up, hotdog?”

“I, um… I’m at Harry’s house. I can’t go inside.”

“Why not?” Willie asked. “Is the door locked? Are they out?”

Alex shook his head although Willie couldn’t see him. “No. I don’t think so. It’s just… I… I can’t do it.”

“What do you mean you can’t do it?” Willie asked patiently.

“I can’t go inside,” Alex repeated. With his free hand, he tugged at the strap of his fanny pack, fiddling with the buckle where it lay over his chest. “I can’t go up to the door. I’ve been trying for, like, twenty minutes and every time I try my head starts buzzing and my legs go numb and I’m starting to feel really sick now because I ate an entire batch of brownies meant for at least ten people and I can’t do this–”

“Okay,” Willie interrupted. “It’s okay. You’re okay. Breathe, Alex. Remember the breathing exercises we went over? Breathe in for four and out for six. Come on, hotdog, you’ve got this.”

Alex did as he said, taking great shuddering breaths of bitter air and releasing them slowly. Willie kept talking him through it, slowly, softly, kindly, and after about ten minutes Alex felt refreshed. Not necessarily worry-free, but his mind had cleared a little bit.

“Okay,” Willie said. “That was great, well done. Can you give me this guy’s address?”

Alex gave it to him.

“Luckily for you, that’s just down the road from where I am right now,” Willie said, chipper. Alex could hear the smile in his voice and it almost made him smile himself. Almost. “I’ll be there in a minute. I’ll go inside with you, if that’s what you want?”

Alex breathed a haggard, relieved sigh. “Yes. Please. If you don’t mind. Thank you, Willie.”

Willie gave a small chuckle. “Any time, hotdog. You know I’d do anything for you. I’ll see you in a minute.”

And he hung up.

Alex waited, still doing his breathing exercises, but didn’t need to wait long. Hardly five minutes later, Willie rolled up (literally – he was on his skateboard) and gave him a bright smile. Alex didn’t hesitate before lurching forward and pulling him into a hug.

“Thank you, Willie,” he whispered. “I really appreciate it.”

Willie’s response was simply to hug him tighter.

Together, hands clasped tightly between them, Willie with his board tucked under his arm, they made their way up to the bungalow’s front door. Alex swallowed, steeled himself, and then firmly knocked on the door. When nobody answered it in the first five seconds, Alex told Willie, “This is a bad idea,” and tried to turn away to leave.

However, Willie just pulled him back and a moment later the door opened. On the threshold of the house was Harry, staring down at Alex and Willie. Something about him wasn’t quite as nightmarish as it was at school, yet at the same time Alex was much more afraid. He held Willie’s hand tighter.

Harry nodded in Willie’s direction. “Who’s this, Bin Boy? You brought your boyfriend?”

“Actually, yeah,” Willie said, speaking for Alex. He was glad – his throat felt thick and he didn’t think he could have summoned up any words if he tried. “I’m Willie. I’ve heard about you.”

Harry raised an eyebrow. “Yeah? What?”

“Just a few things,” Willie said nonchalantly. “Nothing important. Anyway, I was in the neighbourhood and Alex and I are set to hang out when he’s done here anyway so I thought I’d come along. Is that alright with you?”

“It’s fine,” Harry returned with a shrug. Then his eyes landed on something and his entire expression changed. Alex didn’t think he’d ever seen Harry look like this before. Could it have been what he thought it was: excitement? “Bro! You skate?”

Willie lifted his board half-heartedly. “This isn’t just for decoration.”

Harry grinned, clapping Willie on the shoulder so hard that his hand dropped from Alex’s. “Dude, that’s sick, I do too. Come on, get inside, man.”

Harry headed back into the house and Willie followed him. Alex took a moment to wonder what the hell that had been, then took a deep breath and hurried after them. When he caught up with Willie he grabbed his hand again. Willie just smiled bemusedly up at him.

Harry led them to his bedroom and beckoned them towards his desk.

“Come look at this,” Harry said. “I had a photo taken with Tony Hawk last year!”

Alex perched himself right on the edge of the bed awkwardly as Willie went over to inspect the framed photo.

“Are you sure that’s Tony Hawk?” Willie asked. “Doesn’t look like him.”

Harry shook his head. “You’ve got to imagine he’s holding a skateboard, then you’ll see it.”

Alex watched Willie squint at the photo for a moment or two longer, then he gasped and, to Alex’s horror, began to smile. “Oh, wait… yeah, kinda. That’s awesome, dude!”

“Yeah! Anyway, how long have you been skating for?”

As Willie answered, Alex zoned out of the conversation. Ordinarily, he loved listening to Willie talk about skating – he lit up whenever he explained a new trick he’d learnt, and seeing him flush with pride after he demonstrated it perfectly to Alex always made him feel giddy – but it just wasn’t the same listening to him chat with Harry Reynolds of all people. Alex didn’t even know who that Tony Hawk guy was and it didn’t seem like anyone was about to bother explaining it to him. He would never have admitted it, but listening to Willie talk to Harry was almost annoying.

He busied himself by looking around the room, getting a glimpse at what the real Harry Reynolds was like. At school, Harry was the classic, early-2000s movie jock, on every sports team the school had to offer, constantly bragging about his luck with girls, and picking on people smaller than him (which, because Harry was built like a tree trunk, was pretty much everyone). His room reflected it too; there were even more trophies than Alex had seen through the window, most for football or, unexpectedly, karate, and the walls were plastered in posters displaying buff men and weirdly specific motivational quotes. Only now did Alex notice the skateboards stuck on the wall and the stack of helmets by his bed, as well as several skating posters directly above them.

He turned back to Willie and Harry just in time to hear Willie laugh. Properly laugh, loud and genuine. Willie only laughed like that with his friends and it hearing it in Harry’s room stirred an uneasy feeling in the pit of Alex’s stomach.

“What’s so funny?” he asked, trying to smile.

Willie waved him off. “Don’t worry, hotdog, just a skating joke.”

Harry snickered, shaking his head. “Pretty freaking funny though.”

“Oh,” Alex said. He tried for a laugh but it was the least genuine noise he had ever made – judging by the look Harry sent him, it had been obvious how fake it was to him too. Alex cleared his throat awkwardly. “Shouldn’t we get on with our work? We’re already running behind schedule.”

Harry rolled his eyes. “Shut it, Bin Boy, we’re having a conversation here. You start if you want, I’ll join you whenever.”

Alex sent a look to Willie, eyes wide and pleading. Willie frowned, looking conflicted, but then shrugged.

Willie and Alex didn’t fight often, but Alex wouldn’t have minded giving Willie a piece of his mind right then and there.

He didn’t though. He sighed, shuffled back on the bed so that he could have more room and lean on the mattress, and he started working on the project. It wasn’t too difficult, just an analysis on the themes of Macbeth, something they had gone over in class a hundred times; still, Alex would have appreciated some help, seeing as this was a paired project and he didn’t exactly want to do the whole thing alone.

But it was fine. He kept telling himself that it was completely and utterly fine. But every so often Willie or Harry would laugh or suddenly shout, and the abrupt noise would startle Alex. The third time that happened he accidentally jogged his highlighter so it zigzagged all over his painstakingly neat paragraph on King James I. He gripped his pen so hard that the plastic almost cracked, and set about writing the whole thing again on a new piece of paper.

Alex didn’t know how long he had been working for, but he did know that it had been a hell of a long time and Harry still hadn’t made any effort to help him. He had copied up all his notes on the supernatural, women, ambition, and the Great Chain of Being, all the while Harry had sat there with Willie, not doing anything.

The strange thing was, Alex found himself more angry at Willie than he was at Harry.

Eventually, he checked the time, his hand aching. It was almost five o’clock, which meant he had been working alone for about four hours solidly. He had done pretty much half of the project in that time and was nearing his breaking point – he thought that if he left now he could catch the tail end of band practise and take his frustration out on his drumkit.

Gathering his notes and all his work, Alex said, “I’m going to head out.”

Willie checked the clock on Harry’s desk and then set about clipping his helmet on. “Yeah, we should get going. This was fun, though, man. It was nice to talk to a fellow skater for once.”

“I hear you, dude,” Harry returned. They fist-bumped and Alex physically cringed. “Catch you later.”

Alex didn’t say goodbye, just saw himself out. He didn’t wait for Willie. He simply walked, trying to get out of the house and as far away as possible in as little time as he could. Alex could hear Willie shouting for him to wait up but he didn’t stop.

He felt Willie grab his hand and pull him to a halt, but pulled his hand from Willie’s grasp.

“What’s up with you?” Willie asked, seeming truly bewildered. “I thought that was alright back there, it was relaxed, not stressful. Are you still feeling anxious?”

Alex didn’t answer his question and instead he said with much more venom than he had intended, “What the hell was that?”

Willie looked taken aback. Alex almost felt bad. Almost.

“What was what?”

“In there!” Alex yelled, pointing in the direction of Harry’s house. “You talking to him like you’re best friends! That guy is a jerk, you know that, Willie, so why were you laughing and joking with him as if he’s the nicest guy in the world?”

Willie didn’t look impressed. “Sorry, I was under the impression you wanted me there. I was talking to him to distract from you. That’s what you wanted, right? You were nervous about going so you wanted my help to take the pressure off you. I was helping you, Alex, because that was what you asked me to do!”

“Not like that,” Alex protested. “You weren’t supposed to bond with him, leave me out completely so that I had to do all the work by myself and listen to you two talk about skateboards and… Toby Eagle, or whoever that guy was!”

“It was Tony Hawk. And it’s not my fault that Harry likes skateboarding,” Willie shot back. “It’s also not my fault that I enjoyed talking to someone who shares that interest for once. You listen and you pretend to know what I’m talking about, but it isn’t the same.”

“It didn’t have to be him!”

“Actually, given the circumstances, it did. And like I said – it got the attention off you, so I don’t see why you’re complaining.”

Alex felt his temper rising with each sentence. He never got this upset at Willie, this was a complete first. Sure, they had argued like any couple would, but he had never felt any real anger towards his boyfriend. It frightened him, and that fright stopped him from seeing any sense, taking a step back, calming himself down.

“I didn’t want you to do it like that,” he said, as if it was obvious. It was obvious to Alex – why wasn’t it obvious to Willie?

“I can’t read your mind, Alex,” Willie shouted, pointing at himself. “I don’t know what’s going on in your head!”

“You should know!”

“I don’t! It could be anything! I don’t think you realise that when it comes to you and your anxiety, I’m pretty much flying as blind as you are. Sure, I’ve done my research and I can handle it, but I never know what’s going to trigger you and set you off like earlier today. I may seem prepared, but I don’t know what you’re thinking and I don’t know what you’re going to worry about most. It is not my fault that sometimes I might not handle it in the best way. I’m trying my hardest, Alex.”

“You aren’t the one who has to go through the panic attacks and the constant worry, are you?” Alex seethed.

Willie shrugged. “No, I’m not. But I still worry about you all the time because I don’t know what’s going to set you off.”

“It’s not my fault I have anxiety,” Alex yelled.

“I never said it was! But it’s not my fault either – I dropped everything just to come and help you today and all you’re doing is throwing it right back in my face and arguing with me for helping you out! It’s not my fault that you can’t do these easy things and that you need me to hold your hand all the time!”

Alex froze. Willie did too. The words were out there, they’d been spoken without hesitation. They hung between the two of them like a toxic cloud, as both of them slowly realised the weight those words had held.

Willie broke the silence, reaching out his hand to Alex, trying to bridge that gap between them that had widened impossibly in the last ten seconds. “Alex, I am so sorry, I didn’t mean t–”

Alex stepped back, out of reach from Willie. Willie flinched and he withdrew his hand, instead crossing his arms and rubbing circles by his elbow with his thumb. It was a nervous tick Alex only ever saw when Willie was really stressed out. Normally he would have tried to soothe him, calm him down, but all he could hear were Willie’s words echoing back and forth through his mind.

It’s not my fault that you can’t do these easy things and that you need me to hold your hand all the time!

Alex schooled his features to careful neutrality, not betraying any emotion. It wasn’t hard, seeing as he wasn’t feeling much at that moment anyway, just a cold detachment.

“I heard you,” Alex said quietly. He couldn’t look Willie in the eye. “I heard exactly what you said. I know what you meant.”

“Then you’ve got to know that I wasn’t trying to–”

“I know what you meant,” he repeated. “I’m going back to band practise. I don’t think you should come and watch today.”

He shook his head and, turning on his heel, walked away. He didn’t hear Willie’s footsteps following him this time.

Band practise had helped calm Alex down with a mixture of wrestling his drumkit and talking things out with Julie, Luke, and Reggie. They had all seemed utterly shocked that Willie would say anything like that, but Alex wasn’t so surprised. After all, things like this were what he worried about – being left alone, being disliked by the people he cared for most, being a nuisance, being abandoned. Deep down in the pit of his worst anxieties, he had been worried that something like this could have happened.

He just had never thought it would have come from Willie.

While band helped him calm down, it didn’t help cheer him up. He regretted even bringing the argument up in the first place – if he had ignored his feelings (which Julie had bluntly explained to him were jealousy) then he could have avoided the whole argument. Instead of lying in his cold bed, unable to sleep that night, he could have been curled up with Willie on the couch in the studio, warm and cosy because Willie was like a human radiator.

He knew that neither of them had been fair on each other. He could see Willie’s side of the argument once he had calmed down. But he knew that what he had said was equally valid and he couldn’t get past the scorn in Willie’s voice when he’d said those damning words.

He didn’t hear from Willie all throughout Sunday and didn’t make any moves to contact him himself either. If he did, he had no clue where he would have even begun. Perhaps an apology – but where was he supposed to take the conversation from there?

So Sunday was silent.

Alex was slightly dreading school on Monday, but he wasn’t about to ruin his high grades by not showing up, especially this close to the end of the semester. Grudgingly, he headed to school and went straight to his first lesson, which just so happened to be the lesson from Hell: English.

He arrived there before the rest of the class, including Ms Osbourne, which meant he had time to dwell on his thoughts alone. He probably wasn’t going to fail this class – despite Saturday having been a nightmare, he had managed to get a lot of good work done on the project and it would be of a very high quality when he finally got it finished. But he still had more work to do and he knew that he really ought to do it with Harry. Absently, he pondered whether or not to bring Willie next time he needed to go to Harry’s house.

Talk of the devil, Alex thought as the classroom door swung open and none other than Harry himself sauntered in. He looked at Alex sat there alone, the only other person in the room, and grunted, coming to sit beside him.

Alex didn’t have the energy to be scared of Harry Reynolds today.

“I’ve been looking for you, Mercer,” Harry said conversationally.

“Oh, joy,” Alex deadpanned. Harry looked surprised, probably because Alex wasn’t cowering in fear, but he shrugged it off.

“I wanted to talk to you,” he continued. “I just wanted to say that your boyfriend, that Willie guy, he’s really cool. I mean, the way he was talking about skating the other day – I don’t know if you realise it, man, but he has a real shot at going pro.”

“I know,” Alex spat. “He’s my boyfriend, of course I know. Maybe I don’t skate but I still listen to him. And I know him better than you do.”

Harry held up a hand. “Woah, calm down, Bin B– uh. Alex. I’m just trying to say the guy is really cool and you’re really lucky to have him. And also… talking to him the other day, he said– well, you weren’t listening, were you?”

Alex shook his head.

“We did stop talking about skating at some point, you know,” Harry told him. “Willie was telling me how awesome you are and, you know, explaining why he likes you so much. And I guess it made me realise that I’ve kind of been a jerk to you for a long time – I mean, he literally told me so. He told me to stop being such a douchebag to you.”

Alex grunted. “He’s right. You should stop. It sucks.”

Harry nodded. “I wanted to apologise for it, I guess. I’m sorry for being so nasty to you. I think it’s just because I was young and dumb and I didn’t realise it was hurting you at first, then it just stuck. I kind of always thought it was friendly too – I didn’t think you minded. I thought it was banter.”

“It wasn’t,” Alex said, meeting his eyes. “It never was. I’m terrified of you, you’ve made my life a misery. Thanks for the apology, but it’s no excuse.”

“I know that,” he admitted. “But I just wanted to explain why. I’m going to try my best to be a better guy from now on. It won’t make up for everything I’ve done in the past, but can you give me a chance to get this right?”

Alex considered. Somehow, Harry seemed completely serious. His expression was slightly pleading and he looked a little awkward and uncomfortable to be asking this of Alex, but it seemed real.

So he nodded.

“Fine. Thank you.”

Harry clapped him on the back. “No worries, dude. And, uh… this might not be my place to ask, but are you okay? You look down.”

Alex shrugged. “I had an argument with Willie after we left your place the other day. I’ve not spoken to him since.”

“Was it my fault?” Harry asked.

“Kinda,” Alex told him, shrugging again. “I just… I didn’t like how friendly you two seemed. After everything you’ve done to me in the past, watching him get along with you like it was nothing made me a little mad.”

“Sorry, bro,” Harry said, scratching the back of his neck. “I’m not into him or anything, so you’ve got nothing to worry about there – plus, he’s crazy about you, so even if someone else did like him they’d be out of luck. I just wanted to talk with someone about skating for once, none of my friends are into it.”

“Willie said the same thing,” Alex admitted.

Harry nodded awkwardly. “I don’t have any say in your relationship, but honestly I’m kind of invested in it now and I think you guys should talk it out. I’d hate to think I played some part if you ended up breaking up over this.”

“I don’t want to break up with him,” Alex objected, horrified. The thought of breaking up with Willie, losing him forever, made him feel sick to the stomach.

The rest of the class began filing into the classroom. Harry stood up, shrugged, and then clapped Alex on the shoulder.

“Go talk to him, then.”

Alex, for the first time in his life, took the advice Harry had given him and decided to take that first, absolutely terrifying step towards fixing the break between himself and Willie. If he knew his boyfriend (and he did) then Willie would have gone to the skatepark straight after school, so that was where Alex headed too.

Sure enough, Alex found Willie at the skatepark, sat at the top of the highest ramp. Every now and then, someone on a board would do a trick nail-bitingly close to Willie’s face, but he didn’t flinch even once. He was staring off into the peachy sunset, seemingly lost in his thoughts. Alex climbed up there and sat himself down next to him.

“Is this seat taken?” he asked uneasily.

Willie startled and turned to Alex, caught unawares. “Alex! I thought you–”

Willie didn’t get to finish his sentence because Alex pulled him into a tight, bone-crushing, fierce hug, pouring every last ounce of love and regret into it. He felt Willie hug back with equal force and buried his face into Willie’s long hair. This, he knew, was how it was supposed to be – Alex and Willie, boyfriends who care far too much about each other, not Alex and Willie, boyfriends on the edge of a break-up.

Eventually, Alex withdrew himself and let Willie go mostly, still keeping a tight clutch on his upper arms.

“I am so sorry,” he said, breathless. “I’m sorry for everything I said and for starting the argument and for everything that happened that day.”

Willie shook his head. “Don’t. I’m sorry, I should have realised how talking to Harry like that would have made you feel. It was dumb of me, and I shouldn’t have said such hurtful things to you, and–”

“I get it,” Alex said breezily, “I’m a lot to deal with.”

Desperately, Willie said, “But that’s not what I meant! I can’t explain what I was trying to say, but I wouldn’t change anything about you or our relationship for the world. You mean the everything to me, Alex, and I never want to do something to jeopardise what we have ever again. I’d do anything to take back what I said to you that day.”

Alex pulled him back into the hug, needing to be close to him. “It wasn’t just you. It was both of us. And Harry. But we’ve all apologised now, even him, so we can put this whole thing behind us.”

Willie pulled back, surprised. “He apologised?”

“Yeah,” Alex said, nodding. “Because of you. He said you were going on about how amazing I am and he realised he’d been a jerk.”

Willie blushed the tiniest bit, and playfully punched Alex’s arm. “Well, you are amazing. You’re more than amazing. You’re a miracle and I’m lucky to have you.”

Smiling, Alex cupped Willie’s cheek and gently pulled him in for a kiss. It was soft, slow, and Alex felt like they were glowing, bright and warm and happy. They kissed until every unspoken word had been said, until the last of the orange sunset had ebbed away into night-time blue, until streetlights cast an amber glow across the skatepark, in which they were the only ones left. Alex felt like he was finally at peace, with himself and with Willie.

He pulled back and rested his forehead against Willie’s. “I’m lucky to have you too. I can’t even begin to understand what good luck brought you to me.”

Willie moved back slightly, shuffled further away until he was only holding Alex’s hands, until that was the only point where they touched. Alex missed his warmth.

“Sorry,” Willie giggled, smile bright. “I wanted to be able to look you in the eyes for this.”

“For what?” Alex asked.

Willie’s smile softened. “I love you, Alex. And I’m pretty sure I always will.”

Alex’s heart stopped. It was the first time he’d ever heard those words out loud. Sure, he had felt them in every little action from Willie in all the time they’d been together – he had felt his love in the way he cared for him when he was sick, in the way he bundled himself up in Alex’s hoodies, in the way he played with Alex’s hair, in the way he brought him back from the edge when he was anxious, in the way he devoted every part of himself to Alex.

He had loved Willie in return too, in the little ways – how he listened to Willie talk about skating and watched him practise, how he brushed and braided Willie’s hair to relax them both, how he danced with Willie whenever he wanted because he simply couldn’t say no, how he wrote songs that only Willie would ever hear, how he listened to Willie talk nonsense in his sleep on those nights they slept at the studio together.

But he too had never said the words out loud.

He pulled Willie in for another kiss, brief but burning, and then held his hands again. Willie was right – this was something Alex wanted to look in his eyes for.

“I love you, too, Willie. I’ll never stop.”

131 notes · View notes

chaoslaura · 4 years

Text

Tchaikovsky or Led Zeppelin (or both?)

Ballet!Reggie Fluff with his friends

Warnings: None

Word count: 2,693

„Hand on the bar, chin up, shoulders down, stomach in, looking straight ahead. Don’t forget to straighten your inner leg at all times, most important before you go into relevé. Toni, leave you heel flat on the floor. What kind of arm movement is that supposed to display, Marcus?” Mrs. Petrow gave a few tututut noises while going around the room, inspecting every student, attentive for every minimalistic mistake.

‘The arm is not round enough, point the foot more, pay attention to where the little toe points, the gaze follows the arm.’ Every little detail was observed by Mrs. Petrow and nothing escaped her even with twenty students scattered around the room. She found something to complain about with everyone, like every lesson, every week, for years. You get the notion. When she reached Reggie, she merely put her index finger under his chin und lifted it up a bit, otherwise saying nothing and Reggie felt proud he didn’t make a mistake for once. Rare occurrence.

Clapping her hands once, the dance teacher signalled the end of the exercise “You all have to focus more, the performance must be perfect, but in the current state you’re all in I would never let you on stage.” Mrs. Petrow was as kind as always, never holding back with her dissatisfaction, Reggie sighed.

“Now to the grand battement jeté, hurry up. And one and two and three.” With every jeté she clapped her hands in sync with the piano music. Reggie loathed this exercise, his leg wouldn’t comply with going higher, no matter how often Reggie trained, and he knew his teacher wasn’t satisfied either.

After their exercises on the bar they would go over to routines in the middle of the room, alone or pairing up with the girls. Pirouettes were Reggie’s passion. He could spin and turn around the room and would never stop when his head wouldn’t complain at one point, getting dizzy and his vision turning with the room. But there was something so deeply connecting him with the music, how his body would sway with the rhythm, letting it fill his mind. He could follow the moves with his eyes closed, concentrating on every little muscle, the emotions flowing through him to the tips of his fingers.

But today they would train for their performance in pas de deux and Reggie looked out for his partner Toni. She came over with a smile on her lips, ready to gossip about their teacher when she wasn’t looking. It was their favourite activity to pass the time and a way to get rid of the stress. Mrs. Petrow would be lecturing them for their giggling in no time. Too much fun wasn’t allowed withing these walls. It was a tragic story and their faces had to portray that too, each little smile was out of place.

But with Toni he didn’t mind. She was as goofy as him outside of practice and they had gotten along really good since the beginning when he started dancing at age 7 and she was 8. Now he was 17 and still going.

For their teacher’s sake both of them pushed their jokes to the back of their minds and got to their start position. Reggie always loved how the men were playing an essential part as a supporting role for the women and weren’t in the spotlight for once unless they had a solo, but they could never reach the level of gracefulness female ballet dancers achieved.

So, he picked Toni up with his hands on her waist and lifted her up, her legs straight while she moved her arms around in a precise manner. Letting her down again he twirled her once before she got into an attitude. When she was on her point shoes, she protruded him just two inches, but she never stopped teasing him about it since he hit his last growth spurt and would never catch up with her again. (Him and Luke had gotten in enough fights over their heights he didn’t need another person teasing him about it.)

When they were finally allowed to leave, his white shirt clung to his skin, sweat running down his back. His muscles were tired and riding his bicycle seemed like an impossible task. His body was all mushy from the stretches but at least he had a pause for two days before the cycle began again.

Changing into his street clothes and packing his shirt, tights, and ballet slippers into his bag, he met with Toni at the entrance again, they were always waiting for each other for a quick chat.

“You feel like grabbing a bite? Training put a hole in my stomach, I was afraid Mrs. Petrow would hear it grumbling and scold me for it, for making the act unbelievable.” Toni asked him, her own bag slung over her shoulder.

Reggie shook his head, regretting his last minute made plans. “Well, I would love to, but I also have practice with the band in a minute. No time, sorry.”

Toni gave him a bewildered look. “Now? After training? Sometimes I wonder how you fit everything under your hat. Must be a pretty big one. No wonder you like cowboy hats.” As everyone else of his friends Toni picked up his passion for Country pretty early but never made fun of him because of that. Might be another reason why he liked her so much.

“There should really be a cowboy themed ballet. Imagine a magical story between a cowboy and his beloved horse, going on an adventure together, maybe meeting a woman along the way but in the end he realizes that his one true love is his freedom and his horse.”

Toni let out a loud laugh, holding her stomach and laid a hand on Reggie’s shoulder, squeezing it shortly. She was clearly amused. “You watched Brokeback Mountain one too many times I would say.”

Reggie gave a scandalized look. “I said freedom not men. Don’t read between the lines where there is nothing to be found.” He scoffed once again but he knew Toni was just making fun of him.

Taking her hand back from his shoulder, she instead pulled him into a hug as a goodbye. “Well then, have fun tonight, say hello to the boys and Julie for me, haven’t seen them in a while.”

Reggie put his arms around Toni’s waist and gave a last squeeze before letting loose. “I’ll bring them to the premier if they want to or not. They’re in debt after the accident at the pier and I will use this favour to drag them to the show.”

“Can’t wait. Bye Reg, I really have to go now or my stomach will eat itself.” As on cue a grumbling was heard, and Toni clutched at her tummy before continuing in a dramatic voice “See, it’s too late. I will die a horrible death, tell Alex that I always appreciated his advices, and Bobby’s dating tips, Julie is just amazing and has great style, and most importantly tell Luke he’s a dumbass.”

Reggie chuckled at the last comment. “Will do, but what’s with me? Don’t say I wasn’t important enough to get a last goodbye. I never let you fall when I held you, you should appreciate that” A pout decorated Reggie’s face and he was ready to sulk at such injustice.

“Oh thanks Reggie, really. Thank you for not harming me, the bare minimum. You won’t get a thanks for that and now go before your boys start searching for you.”

“Alright, kiss a meatball sub for me. “ With a last wave Reggie turned around and walked in the opposite direction, he wasn’t entirely sure if he locked his bike over there, or maybe around the corner? Oh thank god, there it was, he was in no condition to walk to their studio or how Alex would call it ‘a rundown garage at best’.

The wind that passed him as he paddled down the road, cooled down his flushed skin, and left him feeling more alive than half an hour ago. The lights at the garage were already on when Reggie turned into the driveway, leaning his bike against the wall and grabbing his bag. Luckily for him his bass had found a permanent residency at the studio, the thought of having to drag it around too, no thanks, his arm muscles were aching enough.

He opened the creaking door to reveal his four bandmates standing around the room, doing various things. Luke looked up from his notebook, what else would he be doing.

“Toni said I should tell you you’re a dumbass Luke.” Reggie said as a greeting and slumped down on the couch, feeling the soft material and sighed at how comfortable it was.

Luke sputtered and gave him a confused and questioning look, coming over and joining him on the couch, instantly crossing his arms and started pouting. “What did I do?”

Luke seemed really upset and Reggie felt sorry for saying it like that. “Luke, it was a joke! You know how Toni is, we were just joking around.”

Luke had gone from sad back to upbeat in a second and stood up again to retrieve his notebook, a pencil was still clamped behind his ear. “Oh good, and I thought I forgot something I did.”

“Wouldn’t be the first time.” Ales smiled sweetly at Luke from where he was already seated behind his drum kit, giving a snickering Julie a bro fist, who was always in to drag Luke. It was their little game. How everyone else but them could see how much it counted as flirting was astonishing, but well, what could they do besides follow the play?

“Back to Toni. How’s it going with her?” Bobby asked then, repeatingly raising his eyebrows in a seemingly suggesting manner, a lopsided grin plastered on his face.

“What do you mean?” Reggie was seriously confused at that question. “She’s fine if that is what you wanted to know.”

Alex groaned in the background. There was oblivious Reggie again, how they knew and loved him. Luke sprung in, helping Bobby out. “What Bobby wanted to know is if you finally made a move on Toni. You know, like asking her out on a date?”

Reggie’s mouth popped open. He had never been thinking about going on a date with Toni, not even considering it. That concept was weird, they were just really good friends. “Why would I ask her out? She’s just a friend.” He said so.

Julie put the mic she had been holding until now into the stand and turned to Reggie. “First of all, you know each other for 10 years. Second, you two have the same personality and interests, you two fit so good together. When she’s around, your happiness is bouncing off the balls, much like Luke after a gig. And to wrap it up, she looks gorgeous, you love her style, you said so yourself.” Great, now Julie had conspired against him too.

Reggie raised an eyebrow, was that it? “And? We all share interests, we’re in a band together, and Luke and I have known each other since we’re 10 and I can say with confidence that you all look good, but have I asked any of you out yet? No. So why would I do that with Toni?”

“I’m honoured for being called good-looking.” Alex said. “But Reggie, if you don’t want to you don’t have to ask Toni out. We just thought you two really liked each other, we thought it was obvious, sorry.” Reggie couldn’t stay mad long at Alex; he was just too sweet. He sighed, stood up from the couch and doubled over, stretching his knees. It was never a good idea to sit down after training.

“I will never get over how flexible you are.” Reggie looked up and saw Bobby staring at him with amazement.

Reggie grinned at the hidden compliment. “If you wouldn’t skip PE all the time, you might get there one day.”

Julie hollered, satisfied with where this was going. “Yes, call him out for what he is, a lazy pazy, abandoning us in gym hell.”

Luke meanwhile stopped scribbling in his book again and gave an annoyed expression. “Guys, we said no school talk during band time.” There was nothing new with Luke’s hate of school. For him it was just another distraction in his music career, another way to waste precious song writing time.

Reggie stretched his arms a last time, rolling his shoulder blades, and made a beeline for his bass. He loved practice time with his friends, but he was ready for this day to be over, but hoped it wasn’t too obvious. Not that his friends got the impression he didn’t like spending time with them. Luke picked up on his exhaustion though.

“Why you seem so tired today? You look like you’re done with the day and it’s only 8.”

Reggie wasn’t sure if that was a serious question and needed a second. “You can try giving your everything in ballet with Mrs. Petrow for two and a half hours and see how fresh you’re looking afterwards.”

Luke’s eyes got soft again. “Sorry, didn’t know you had practice beforehand.” He apologized and then as another thought crossed his mind “- Wait, didn’t you were at practice two days ago?”

“I have practice on Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays. It has always been like this before a performance.” How could Luke had never catch up on that?

“What?? You’re training three days a week on top of schoolwork and band practice almost every day a week?” Bobby let out like it was implausible, showing the same baffled look as Luke.

Reggie was looking between the two. “Yeah?” He wasn’t sure what they wanted him to say.

All four seemed impressed at that and Alex sympathetic smile greeted him when Reggie looked his way. “When you’re tired, we can call it off for today and just watch a movie or something.” He proposed and everyone else agreed, even Luke, who pushed them the hardest.

Reggie was quick to jump on that opportunity and before someone else could chime in with ideas he picked up a DVD from his Star Wars collection, hearing a collective groaning behind him, but he didn’t care. It was his feel-good escape.

Bobby tousled his hair when he walked past him where the TV sat and laughed at Reggie’s disgruntled look. “You don’t look as threatening as you want, you’re just too cute.” Fantastic, just what he liked to hear. Pulling his hair back again that had fallen in his face from Bobby’s action, Alex called out to him.

“Hey Reg, do a pair of spins to the TV.”

Reggie didn’t need to be told twice before he started turning to where he wanted to go, fixating a point on the wall, his leg going into a passé on every turn. Landing in perfect position in front of the older telly, he gave his audience one bow and got applause in return, eliciting a smile from him.

When they were all seated on a pile of cushions and surrounded with blankets, a cuddling mess on the floor, Reggie remembered what he wanted to ask them. “Hey, would you like to come to the premier? It’s in two weeks. It’s okay if you have plans already, it’s not as important, I wouldn’t be mad, I just wan-“

Alex hand was placed on his arm, interrupting his nervous rambling. “Of course we’ll come Reg. Right guys?” The other three were quick to agree and Reggie beamed at them.

“I’ll sit front row and whistle every time you come on stage.” Luke added. Reggie was not keen on finding out if Luke was serious and made a mental note to place Luke in the back of the venue.

When the credits scrolled down on the screen later, Reggie was already fast asleep, laying between his friends, who just pulled the blanked higher on him and tried to be as silent as possible while chatting quietly.

#Julie and the Phantoms #jatp #jatp fic #reggie peters #luke patterson #alex mercer #bobby wilson #julie molina #mine #my fic

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notanacousticsetcal · 4 years

Text

girl crush (lrh) - chapter one

request - nope! but my requests are now open.

summary - luke is 19 and 5sos is at the top of their game. daisy harlow is a solo artist becoming more popular by the day. daisy and luke “date” for publicity but some real feelings start to spark during their forced time together. the only problem? luke has a girlfriend.

warnings - brief mention of an abusive father, not great relationship with her mom either, mentions of lonliness and she’s just kind of in pain? some anxiety.

word count - 1.7k

a/n - i’m planning on making this long so it might permanently move to wattpad for updating but i’ll let y’all know. also, its not clarified in this chapter but daisy’s mom is native hawaiian (polynesian).

My platform boots clack against the hardwood floors as I make my way to the stool perched center stage, a microphone resting expectantly atop it. I mentally curse myself for not touching my manicure up before the show as I stare anxiously down at my chipped nailpolish. I ring my fingers out before grabbing the mic and sitting down. I cross my legs and get comfortable as I wait for the musicians to get situated around me. It’s so quiet, you can hear the quiet chatter among bystanders in the hall. I stare at the ground uncomfortably. No matter how many times I perform, every single time without fail my hands shake and my mind races with the what-ifs. What if I mess up the lyrics and the band can’t follow me? What if I don’t take enough breaths and get all choked up? What if my voice cracks? What if I can’t hit the high notes? But once the melancholy guitar kicks in, I’m whisked away in the same chords I strummed that night on my apartment floor. The notes were a lot more choppy when I was playing them, my teary eyes obstructing my view.

“Trying not to hold dear to my safety.”

My hands shake. I think about my father’s face twisting in anger. I wondered what I had done this time. It was always something. That house was never a home. It was sewn together by my screams and my father’s bitter resentment. Things built on fragility crumble quickly.

“Prisoner to my miracles, save me.”

I’m transported back to those stupid commercials. My mother dragged me all around Hollywood, passing me script after script. ‘Chin up, tamarii,’ she would say. ‘Smile big for the men in suits.’ When she found out I could sing, I was never allowed to close my mouth again. Whatever made her money. Whatever got her away from my father. At whatever cost to me.

“From the roof that I built myself, gave me.”

The day she left, so did I. Do you grieve for someone who is supposed to put you above all else? Whose job it is to keep you safe, but who fails? I left and I didn’t spare a second glance to that rickety old house. The last one on the right with the peeling yellow siding and splintered red door. The one that kept me safe and dry from the storms outside, but never the storms inside me. Or the storms inside my father.

Everything I have now, I made myself. My mom took every cent she used me for with her, but she couldn’t take my music. And she didn’t take me.

“Only thing that I didn’t want more of was the feeling I couldn’t escape it.”

Physically, I would never have to see them again. So why wouldn’t they leave me alone? Not even my thoughts were safe.

“Waiting tables at a minute complaining that the phone would start ringing.”

Six months ago, I was waiting tables at Rico’s wondering when I could support myself doing what I love. Part of me wishes I could go back to the simplicity. I’ve never felt more alone than I do now.

“But lately, my soul’s looking for a better way to deal with all the little changes that keep freaking me out. Wouldn’t hurt to figure out a better way of imitating so I don’t let me down. Sitting in the middle of a city with a million strangers and it's getting too loud.”

I let my voice express the emotion I’m feeling. Living in LA on my own has been a lot lonelier and colder than I expected. And what if this whole thing doesn’t work out? What if by tomorrow nobody likes me anymore? But above all, the person I’m most worried about disappointing is myself. Maybe because I’m all I have left.

“Wouldn't hurt to figure out a better way of imitating so I don’t let me down.

So I don’t let me down.

Got no time to be overthinking. Can’t let thoughts in my head beat the demons that wanna drive me away for believing in the things that I was so sure of.

Had to lie, end the fight, be my savior.

Emphasizing the light to my failures ‘cause it's not black or white in its nature.

When the plane lands I’m still looking for a better way to deal with all the little changes that keep freaking me out.

Wouldn’t hurt to figure out a better way of imitating so I don’t let me down. Sitting in the middle of a city with a million strangers and it's getting too loud.

Wouldn’t hurt to figure out a better way of imitating so I don’t let me down…

Cause I keep thinking when the sun gets better, I’ll be dancing on my fears from yesterday…

And no, I can’t keep thinking when the sun gets better, I’ll be dancing on my fears from yesterday. Cause I’m still looking for a better way to deal with all the little changes that keep freaking me out.

Wouldn’t hurt to figure out a better way of imitating.

So I don’t let me down.”

The last note carries for a moment more as I open my eyes to the small crowd in front of me. They applaud loudly, turning off the flashlights I didn’t notice they had on. I smile as they cheer, laughing at their unexpected enthusiastic nature. With that, the band begins to pack up and I stand to shake their hands, mine no longer trembling but instead, steady as a rock.

I walk off stage, reveling slightly in this short burst of confidence I get after performing. I’m led to a back room with TVs tuned in to the show. A commercial for OxyClean is playing. I miss Billy Mays. My manager is sitting on the couch with some middle aged man with a scruffy beard and a baseball cap. Once I catch her eye, she waves me over excitedly. “Daisy! Babes, come here. Got some exciting news.” Mariah pats a spot on the sofa next to her and I sit on the plush red material.

“What’s up?” I ask hesitantly. I love Mariah to death -- the woman treats me like her own -- but she can be a little out there. I’ve had to turn down her extravagant ideas on more than one occasion. Once, she wanted me to perform while hooked into a harness, flying over the fans. Sounds more like something Gaga would do (and rock it), but it's just not me.

Her signature red velvet lipstick is painted pristinely across her lips, per usual. She smiles warmly at me. “This kind man is Mr. Wilson. He’s the manager of a band called 5 Seconds of Summer! I’m sure you’ve heard of them, right doll?” She blinks at me expectantly and I smile politely.

“Of course. I’ve heard some of their stuff. They’re great.” Mariah giggles excitedly.

“I’m so glad you think that, Daisy. Jack and I -- excuse me -- Mr. Wilson and I have been talking for a few weeks now about maybe arranging something between you.” Her expression turns nervous.

“What do you mean? Like a collaboration? Well, their stuff tends to have more of a punk edge, but--” Mariah cuts in, waving her hands dismissively.

“No, no, not a collaboration. Though that might not be a bad idea for the future,” Mariah raises her brows, nudging Mr. Wilson with her shoulder. “We were thinking something more like hanging out with them. Particularly… the lead singer Luke.” She looks apprehensive, like she suspects I might not like this suggestion.

“By hangout… you don’t mean as friends. Do you?” My tone is extremely unamused. I begin to stand, sick of Mariah’s insane ideas. “Mariah, I can’t deal with--” Mariah tugs me back down by my sleeve.

“Daisy, please hear us out,” she pleads. “You won’t have to even see him in private. Everything will be for the paps. For publicity. Both you and the 5sos boys are releasing new music and… well, Mr. Wilson and I have an inkling that this little stunt might be really good for sales.” Mariah nudges me suggestively and places a hand on my knee. “Look, sweetie. I know this isn’t your kind of thing, but you know Mama Riah is always looking out for you. It’ll only be a 2 month thing. A little fling!” I gasp audibly and push Mariah’s hand off my knee.

I shake my head. “2 months? I thought we were talking a few pictures together max! Mariah, I love you but you’re insane.”

“Daisy, please think about this. 2 months of your life. That’s it. We’ll make it look like you're an item, but short and sweet. We’ll make the break up messy. Lots of news coverage just in time for your new single and the boys’ new album. It's genius!” She grabs both of my shoulders, shaking me with every syllable. I sigh, defeated. She was really fighting for this. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad. A few extra sales for a couple months with some random boy. Sounds manageable.

Mariah could see me mulling it over in my head. Her shoulders tensed, awaiting my response. “Alright, alright. I’ll do it.” She squeals in excitement, throwing her arms around me and pulling me into a tight hug. I struggled to breathe through her poofy curls and choke a little on her intoxicating fruity perfume. She pulls away and takes my face between her hands, careful not to claw me with her long, red nails. “This is gonna be fantastic, Daisy, you just wait.” She gives one more excited squeal and turns to Mr. Wilson. While they chat excitedly, I slump back into the soft, velvet couch, losing myself in the oversized cushions.

The show came back from commercial break and I watch as the next musical guests take the stage. A boy with multicolored fringe straps a guitar over his body while the boy behind him sits himself at the drum kit. Another boy with dark hair walks out with a bass hanging from his shoulders. The last boy to take the stage makes his way up to the mic stand, pulling a pick from it. He slings his guitar comfortably over his shoulders and turns to converse with his bandmates. That blonde is Luke Hemmings.

Boy, am I in for it because he is gorgeous.

#luke hemmings #luke hemmings imagine #luke hemmings fluff #luke hemmings imagines #luke hemmings x reader #luke #5sos #5sos fanfic #5sos imagines #5sos x reader #5sos x you #calum 5sos #5 seconds of summer #5 seconds of smut #5 second of summer imagines #calum 5 seconds of summer #luke 5 seconds of summer #michael clifford #ashton 5sos

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nightcoremoon · 4 years

Text

here's some controversy that has nothing to do with social issues.

a lot of people hate the band five finger death punch. saying those words provoked a visceral response in half the people reading this, and a "who?" in the other half. they're a groove metal band; similar to slipknot, mudvayne, disturbed, all that remains, system of a down, korn, and killswitch engage. they're one of those really controversial bands that are hated because they're ~not real metal~ by dumbshits who think that NWOBHM is the only valid metal genre. even though england ruined metal and punk but that's a conbfetsation for another day.

now, if you just don't like metal, that's fine. I don't expect everyone to like every genre. so obviously you won't like them, or any band in the genre. obviously. and these are not the people who are being targeted with this post. no, this goes to those who love metallica, ozzy, megadeth, slayer, pantera, testament, opeth, tool, manowar, meshuggah, children of bodom, cannibal corpse, fear factory, mercyful fate: this is to the people who love metal. now, I say this as one of us, but metalheads are one of the most judgmental groups of people in history. and frequently I find that metalheads make the same remarks in regards to their opinions on five finger death punch.

they do nothing but covers. they just yell and cuss. forty year old men with teenage angst. bad musicianship. they look stupid. they fuck their sisters and daughters. they sold out to the military. they're gay. they do too many ballads. they're redneck bait. they're toxic masculinity and macho personified. they rely on guest stars to carry their songs. they're talentless hacks.

these are all complaints I've heard multiple times from multiple people. and frankly I'm sick of it. I'm sick of hearing the bullshit complaints rather than the ACTUAL REASONS why they aren't the best band in the world. which I'll go through now.

they have an overreliance on breakdowns as if they were a post-hardcore band but they're not. breaking benjamin also skirts the line between post-grunge metal and post-hardcore and have many breakdowns, but the difference is that BB's breakdowns have math rock roots and use different patterns that syncopate well. five finger's breakdowns are... eighth notes. it's the difference between, say, black veil brides- who have excellent syncopated breakdowns- and as I lay dying, who have shitty and boring breakdowns. the only difference is that AILD has blast beats (and is fronted by an abusive asshole), and five finger has... ivan growling threats or whatever because they think that it sounds cool to have metal blaring while he says shit like "you wanna disrespect me? I will slap you so fucking hard you'll feel like you kissed a freight train, fuck you," or "if there was ever a time for you to back the fuck up it's right fuckin here and right fuckin now" or "it's not the size of the dog in the fight it's the size of the fight in the dog," or "in the end we're all just chalk lines on the concrete, drawn only to be washed away; in the time that I've been given, I am what I am", etc, all preceding screams. and no these are not exaggerations, these are literally exact quotes. there's also one that plays radio chatter from the military while he goes "hut hut oorah", which is different slightly. and in any case, they have done nearly a hundred different solos over their career, there is NO REASON for them to have such a ridiculous amount of breakdowns. they rival memphis may fire in that regard, but MMF actually has great breakdowns. churko is a metal producer, NOT a hardcore producer, and they sound empty when you strip out the vocals.

sometimes they will overuse a chorus, and hit the pop music pitfalls of having a song that's over half chorus. I'm sure they did this so the label would be happy with singles because the music industry is a commercialized garbage fire and holding it against the artists would be so fucking stupid especially since tool (the best metal band in existence) fucking said it best, "all you know about me is what I sold you, I sold out long before you ever knew my name, I sold my soul to make a record, dipshit, then you bought one; I've got some advice for you little buddy, before you point your finger you should know that I'm the man and if I'm the man then he's he man and you're the man as well so you can take that fucking finger and shove it up your ass". translation; the fact that you know a band at all means that they sold out to even exist in the first place because that's what selling out is. so even this complaint I have that sometimes they have repeated chorus is more of a complaint about a music industry which dumbs things down to sell radioplay to the lowest common denominator, which EVERY SINGLE ARTIST IS GUILTY OF. so moving on.

sometimes they'll have songs which are fairly simple from a harmonic/mechanical standpoint. opening verse chorus verse chorus solo bridge chorus chorus ending. verse goes some mix of eighth and quarter notes and rests in 4:4, solo is just the vocal line of the chorus, bass and drums are nonexistent and only serve to be a melodic backbone, and the music only exists to serve the lyrics... oh wait I can make the exact same arguments about metallica, rage against the machine, pantera, disturbed, and a hundred other bands. those guys aren't hated as much as five finger. hmm. wonder why.

the lyrics are often angsty. namely that they deal with honor, government corruption, mental illness, we live in a society, religious corruption, abandonment issues, recovering from toxic relationships, hey wait a minute these are all just insanely common topics for metal songs!

they usually play in the same key- wait shit every band has a favored key.

they do a lot of covers- wait shit they have literally more ALBUMS than covers.

(yeah that's weird to me too, but they only did a new level by pantera, from out of nowhere by faith no more, bad company by bad company, mama said knock you out by LL cool J, house of the rising sun by the animals, gone away by offspring, and blue on black by kenny wayne shepard... that's 7. they have 8 albums now.)

so shut the fuck up forever about the cover songs. metallica and the deftones and a perfect circle all had fucking cover ALBUMS, van halen only has a career because of the kinks, and every single rock band in the world is just ripping off the beatles, pink floyd, black sabbath, the who, led zeppelin, and cream. pick a legitimate reason to hate on a band, hypocrite.

alright what else...

"they're gay"

I'm not gonna dignify that with a response.

"they suck"

so does your favorite band. boom roasted.

"they're bad at music"

I'd like to see you do better then.

"they sold out to the military"

no they support the veterans and the troops; they fucking hate the military if you pay any attention at all. they believe in the good parts of the military that the government pays half our taxes to make us believe. you're not better than anyone else just because you see through one specific piece of propaganda because odds are you're blinded by another dozen. they write songs about how war is hell and how when vets come home they should be treated better. and anyway when you're in the dog eat dog world of the music industry hey guess what you need a market to sell to or else it's back to baskin robbins. I don't blame them for one second. if I had the option of endorsing cops to pay my bills you bet your ass I'll fly a blue lives matter flag and sell my soul to make money, and then donate shit to the black lives matter movement. flying a flag is worthless if I can do actual good with the money that those dumbasses send in. and name better irony than fighting to abolish a group that pays me to do it go on I'll wait.

"you're just a fanboy"

a) it's fangirl but metal elitists don't give a shit about the LGBTQ and b) just because I like a band doesn't in any way diminish the validity of my statements and any bias I might have is easily countered by whatever bias you might have and c) they're not even my favorite band you idiot I just think there's way worse out there just like I think it's unfair to say nickelback is the worst band in existence when drunk mom rock like hinder buckcherry savingabel and kidrock exists, and limp bizkit is standing right there, and d) they're not even the worst groove metal band, just look at fucking lamb of god, and e) if I was a fangirl I wouldn't have pointed out the flaws you fucking brainless troglodyte, and f) even if they were my favorite band in the world it doesn't matter if you think they suck because music taste is subjective anyway you goddamn moron. those guys write their own music, play their own music, perform their own music, and they love their fanbase more than most other bands. andrew biersack and kellin quinn and pepper keenan and glenn danzig and liam gallagher and axl rose and van halen and ted nugent and kurt cobain HATE their fans, or at least are huge fucking assholes. but not five finger. jeremy played until he literally broke his back; he's as devoted as phil collins, and if he made like atreyu and sang while drumming he'd be singing from a wheelchair, or like dave grohl when he broke his leg right in the middle of a concert, went to the hospital and got set and put in a cast, THEN CAME RIGHT BACK TO THE FUCKING SHOW AND PLAYED GUITAR AND SANG IN A CAST AND WHEELCHAIR. oh but wait, people say phil collins and dave grohl suck too, and turn around and suck mustaine's dick even though he's the biggest asshole in thrash metal behind tom araya and drunk james hetfield. point being, just because x doesn't like y doesn't diminish z's opinion.

"the singer fucked his daughter lol lol his grandchild is his son too lol lol his daughter is his wife lol lol it's funny because rednecks and incest lol lol" he's from colorado not alabama you dumb motherfuckers, and all the lol incest in georgia jokes are rooted in good ol yankee classism. also the guitarist is hungarian so the american redneck jokes don't even fuckin work. shut the hell up, you have all of the intellectual capacity of a common bog leech.

you can dislike the band. you can say you don't like it. you can say that you'd rather listen to different music. that's fine! that's okay! listen to justin bieber if you like him, listen to taylor swift if you like her, listen to new kids on the block if you want! I don't care! but stop expressing your opinions that you stole from someone else as fact. all you're doing is meme bandwagoning so you can find a community because you don't have the social skills necessary to meet people through the things you love so instead you try to pull serotonin out of making other people feel as miserable as you do.

with that being said, fuck all of the annoying dudebro douchebags who listen to the band and show 5FDP next to the confederate flag, blue lives matter flag, don't tread on me flag, punisher skull, trump sticker, and the crossed assault rifles on the back of your truck. you're all shit for reasons other than your music taste.

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mirkwoodshewolf · 5 years

Text

You can do better than that; Ben Hardy!Roger Taylor x reader

*Author’s note*

Alrighty my dears, this one was a bit of a challenge because apparently I don’t do well with ‘play hard to get’ so I apologize in advance if some of the dialogue or writing is too cringy but I tried my best cause I got too deep into this fic. So I hope to the anon who wanted this request ends up happy with the result and I thank you for being sooo patient with me :) Not really any big warnings just swearing, mentions of being played, but there’s mostly fluff.

_______________________________________________________

*March 1st, 1971*

It wasn’t easy but I managed it. Making the big jump from moving out of my home country of America to here in England was tough and of course the homesickness hit after the first couple of weeks but somehow I managed. I knew I needed to be here in Britain because it had so much more potential for me than America ever did.

That is of course when my noisy neighbor isn’t banging away at what sounds like a drumkit at the early stages of the night. I never really got to meet them because for the past several weeks, I’ve been trying to get interviews for some record companies so that one day I can become the first ever female record producer since I’ve had an ear for talent. But until then I’m stuck with two jobs in order to pay the bills, by day I work as a waitress at a nearby restaurant then twice a week by nightfall I work at a local bar—or I guess I should call it a pub since that’s what they call it here in England, as a bartender near the University.

I had just gotten in from a seriously long shift at the restaurant since one of my coworkers thought I would be the perfect candidate for covering for him while he takes his girlfriend out on holiday for their anniversary or some shit. So 12 long hours instead of my usual 9hr has made me not only exhausted but irritated and hangry.

After finding me some cookies to chow down on, I collapsed onto my bed, not even bothering changing out of my uniform and tried to sleep. Just when I thought I could finally fall into a deep sleep; my noisy neighbor once again began banging on those blasted drums.

“That’s it! I can’t take this anymore!” I got out of my bed and left my apartment and went over next door. I banged on the door to give this guy a piece of my mind. Because for the past few days they would be drumming till the but crack of dawn which made it impossible for me to try and go to sleep, especially when I would have a double shift to work at. I banged my fist to the door and cried out, “Hey! Open this damn door right now!! I’ve got just a couple things to say to you yah bastard!!”

The door opened and standing there was a cute—okay handsome man around my age maybe a year or two older with long blonde hair that went past his shoulders, and he had the bluest blue eyes.

*Roger’s POV*

I was practicing my solo for Brian’s new song ‘Keep yourself alive’. I’ve been trying to perfect this solo for weeks now and just the other day I managed to get the solo to the point where I was happy with it. After practicing it a few times around, I knew the crowd was going to like this.

But as I was practicing, I heard several hard knocks at my door and I heard a female voice say.

“Hey! Open this damn door right now!! I’ve got just a couple things to say to you yah bastard!!” I set my drumsticks down and hurried over to the door and opened it. But I was shocked to see that such a beautiful woman was standing before me. Her long (h/c) hair gently waved past her shoulders, she wore a waitress uniform that looked like she worked at “Bill’s coffee shop”.

It then also occurred to me that she also served as a bartender at the pub where my band plays. I’ve always admired her from a far but never once got the balls to go over and say hello, well now it looks like I get the chance to do it now.

*My POV*

As I kept staring at this guy, it suddenly hit me that he was the drummer for that band that performs at the pub I work at. I think their name was Smile?

“May I help you?” I snapped out of my daze and said.

“Yes I would like to file a complaint.”

“Ahh I see, and what may I ask is the complaint in regard to?” he said with a grin as he leaned against the door.

“The noise. You do realize it’s 12:30 in the morning and some of us are trying to sleep.”

“My apologizes love.”

“Listen buddy. It’s late, I’m tired and all I want to do is fall asleep. So can you please try to keep the noise down. I don’t want to come back here and argue at this point.”

“I’ll try. Though I hope you don’t mind me asking, you’re not from around here are you?” he asked me.

“No I moved here a few weeks ago from America.”

“Ahh an American girl.”

“Yeah now I got to get back to sleep so can we please put this discussion to an end?” I snapped not wanting to get into a discussion about this when I had to be up by 6am for my 7:30 shift tomorrow.

“Alright love, I promise I’ll keep it down.”

“Thank you.” I then headed back into my apartment and fell right back asleep.

*Roger’s POV*

As I watched the cute girl go back into her apartment, I knew that now I had to talk to her at my next gig. Maybe I would suede her to go on a date with me.

*My POV*

A few days later it was now my double shift at the bar. I was getting drinks for people when the band soon came up and following the curly-haired guitarist was my noisy neighbor.

“Hello everybody, we’ve got—we’ve got a few fresh faces here. This is John Deacon our new bass player. And our new lead singer Freddie Buls-Bulsara. Freddie Bulsara.” I then took notice of the long haired bass player and the new lead singer who didn’t look like he was from Britain, he looked Middle eastern, maybe from India or something. But there was just something about him that looked right about him.

“That’s right.” The lead singer nodded.

“And of course Roger, biggest member of them all.” The guitarist spoke into the mic and I could hear a girl cry out.

“Hi Roger!” Some of the students cheered and that’s when Freddie spoke into the mic.

“Hello, all you beautiful people.” Of course one asshole had to be a racist as he cried out.

“Where’s Tim!? Who’s the Pakkie?” I rolled my eyes. See it was people like this that made me leave America, especially when you live in the Southern states, it was even worse. Some of the crowd agreed with the guy and that’s when the band began playing their set.

Freddie seemed to struggle with the microphone stand and I cringed as it made that horrible feedback sound. I hide my face for him until he finally just broke the mic off of it’s stand and the song began. I’ll admit hearing them all play together and Freddie’s voice, it was—unlike anything I’ve ever heard from any band. I bopped my head along to the song and kept my eyes on a certain drummer, without having him notice of course as I kept serving the drinks.

The band kept playing for about another hour or so, and I’ll also say that Freddie the new lead singer has made everyone in the room feel important, it was like he was reaching out to everyone in the audience, no matter who they were and made them feel important, even I felt that pull and would sometimes drift away from the bar and just stand amongst the crowd (which didn’t make my boss happy).

After the show I was cleaning up the bar when I heard a familiar voice say.

“So what did you think?” I stopped mid-cleaning and turned to see my neighbor leaning against the counter and I said.

“The band or are you just asking about you?”

“A little bit of both.” He smiled as he leaned further in towards me. “I saw you watching me.”

“How do you know I wasn’t looking at your lead singer?”

“Please love, if you were you’re head would’ve been moving around too much, you stayed standard right on me.” I rolled my eyes and said.

“You have quite an imagination.”

“Only when it involves you.” He said. Okay I get what he’s doing. He’s trying to smooth talk me, charm me and woo me till he gets his way with me. I grinned and leaned towards him and said.

“You know what?”

“What?” he said as he leaned closer towards me. I decided to toy with him a bit placing my hand on his bicep which was pretty buffed probably from years of drumming but I tossed the thought out of my head as I continued.

“You should come back later when you’ve learned a better pickup line.” His grin vanished as he looked like a kicked puppy as I leaned away from her and continued my work.

“So southern girls have a more fight to them, I like that in a woman. I find respect in that.” He said as he came around toward me.

“I hope you’re not trying to insult me.”

“Not at all, just making conversation. How long have you been here in London?”

“A couple weeks now. I only just started working here last week.”

“Does my southern bell have a name?” I looked up at him and he just looked at me with a gentle tilt of his head, like a golden retriever puppy.

“Why so keen on knowing my name?”

“I just figured since we’re neighbors and all, and since I was so rude as to not notice it before and not give you a proper British welcome, I would like to know the name of the cute neighbor next door.” I tried to hide my blush as I said.

“(Y/n) (l/n).”

“That’s a beautiful name, I’m Roger. Roger Taylor.” He said as he extended his hand out for me to take. Even though I was playing hard to get, it’d be rude if I denied a handshake so I took his hand, but instead of a handshake, Roger kissed my knuckles and I swore I felt my heart skip a beat, but of course I wasn’t going to tell him that.

A couple years went by and in 1973, I finally heard back from EMI about a position for their company, however the downside was that I was nothing more than a secretary to the main producer Ray Foster. So that meant just organizing papers, getting the coffee, boring stuff, never really get to touch anything music related, unless its passing him the records.

I was currently going through some papers at the front desk outside Ray’s office when I got buzzed in and the boss’s voice soon spoke up.

“(L/n), John’s bringing in my new signing band coming in today, make sure they’re all present before bringing them up to my office.”

“Right away sir, I’ll send them up once they’ve arrived.” I got up from my desk and walked towards the elevator and pressed the down button.

“Hold the elevator!” I held it and in walked in my good friend Mikaela. Now as I’ve stated before, I despised racism so when most of the people at EMI mostly the men never gave Mikaela the light of day, I decided to reach out my hand in friendship.

Since we’re both women in the workforce we might as well stick together.

“Thank you (y/n).��

“Anytime Mimi, so what have you got to do.”

“Gotta get these checks mailed out, how about you?”

“Boss man wants me to bring up a new band that EMI has signed up with.”

“Any idea who they are?”

“No idea, but they must be good if Ray signs them up, or if they come straight from John Reid himself.”

“Really?” I nodded as I hummed. Soon the elevator dinged as we reached the ground floor and as we walked out she said, “So we still on for our Happy hour?”

“Absolutely. After the week I’ve been having, I deserve a few drinks.”

“Alright, see you Thursday night.”

“Will do, pick you up at 7?” She nodded and then we went our separate ways. As I walked along the lobby I saw John Reid sitting at the lobby with a group of familiar boys. “Oh god, tell me this isn’t happening.” I muttered to myself.

Because amongst those boys was none other than Roger. Ever since the pub performance all those years ago, every day whenever he could whether it was at the pub or even when we would pass each other in the lobby or the hallway, he’d try to flirt with me trying to make me swoon like every other girl he’s screwed around with.

Of course every chance I turned down all his pickups and advances and now it seems like I’ll never escape from him. But not wanting to risk getting fired for keeping Mr. Foster waiting, I sucked it up and approached Mr. Reid.

“Mr. Reid.” He turned to look at me and I said, “I’m (y/n) (l/n). Mr. Foster’s assistant I was sent down to collect you and the band.”

“Ahh yes Miss (y/n).” He stood up from the chair and the two of us shook hands with each other. “Pleasure to meet you, I’d like to introduce you to Queen, EMI’s new signup.” I waved to the boys and that’s when Freddie spoke up.

“Wait, weren’t you a bartender at the pub near the University?”

“Yeah I was.”

“Oh darling you have got some explaining to do because this boy would not shut up when you had left the pub! Could not get him to stop talking about you.” Freddie spoke as he pointed to Roger.

“It was sickening.” Piped in John Deacon.

“Bugger off the lot of you.” Roger muttered.

“Alright enough you four, now then let’s not keep Ray waiting any longer, we’re ready to meet him when you are Miss (l/n).”

“Right this way gentlemen.” As we headed toward the elevator, my attention turned to Roger.

So he’s been talking about me huh? Never did I think he’d still be on me even to his bandmates. He’s definitely persistent I’ll give him that, but at this point I’m just not looking for a relationship at the moment.

Once we reached Mr. Foster’s office, he allowed me to come in saying that it was important that I stay for one big announcement that involved me. At first I thought it would have to do something of a promotion, like finally being able to work the controls of the booth but instead I got the news that I would be Queen’s assistant, which meant I had to check in on them day to day along with some guy named Paul Prenter.

My heart dropped but I swear I thought I saw Roger’s face perk up as he turned toward me.

“Sir are—are you sure I’m capable of doing something like this? I mean surely Queen doesn’t need two assistance……”

“I think it would be a wonderful idea.” Exclaimed Freddie.

“I surely wouldn’t mind it.” Brian soon spoke up.

“It’d be nice to have better company than these lot all the time.” John Deacon spoke up.

“In fact—she can be my personal assistant.” Roger piped in. Oh hell no.

“Seems the band agrees. You start tomorrow Miss (l/n).” John Reid said. Internally I was deflated more than anything of what I was hearing but I knew better than to cause a scene as I said.

“Can’t wait.” But it was spoken with a hint of sarcasm.

A few months go by and if I’m being honest, it wasn’t half bad being with the boys. I got to know them as they truly were and they were a bunch of really cool guys. John or as I’ve been allowed to call him, Deacy with his knowledge of electrical engineering, Brian’s love for astrophysics as well as animal rights especially for badgers, hedgehogs and foxes, Freddie I envy him because he’s given me such beautiful sketches and I wish I could draw half as good as he can.

And of course there’s Roger. Who continues to try and flirt with me but thanks to Deacy and Brian I can get back at him due to his major of being a dentist. But I’ll admit one thing, Roger does have his moments when he’s not trying to be Casanova like this one time when I was helping the boys get ready to preform on Top the Pops for their newest hit song ‘Killer Queen.’

I was with Deacy adjusting his jacket. Once I saw it was good enough I said.

“Alright, you’re all set.”

“Thanks (y/n), we’d be lost without you.”

“Oh stop it. Save that for Veronica.” Besides Fred, Deacy’s opened up more to me when it comes to relationship and lately he’s been seeing this girl named Veronica and I’ve wanted to hear every single detail of how they met and how each date has gone. Sometimes I even give him advice on how to act around her since poor baby he’s so terrible shy when it comes to dating, especially since he’s told me he really, really likes her.

“Sometimes I wish I hadn’t told you about her.”

“Oh come on then who would you go to for advice?”

“Touché, you make a good point.”

“Listen chaps it is going to be playback. Lip-sync is all that is required.” One of the BBC producers spoke up.

“We do know how to play our instruments.” Roger spoke up.

“You want me to lip-sync?” Freddie spoke up as he got in the producer’s face which made him back up just a bit but still hold his ground.

“I just don’t understand why we simply can’t perform live?” asked Brian.

“The audience will never know the difference.”

“We’ll know the bloody difference.”

“This is the BBC that’s how things are done around here. Don’t be a nuisance.” He then walked away.

“Well then you lads will have to make sure no one can tell if you’re faking it.”

“The way things are done here. We’re bolly old chap.” Roger mocked the producer as Brian then mocked out in a posh, snotty tone.

“This is the BBC.”

“I’m relieved.” Deacy spoke up.

“Yeah you would be.” Brian muttered.

“Like perfect performance.”

“Oi (y/n) if you’re done playing groupie get off the stage, they’re about to start filming!” Paul cried out. I turned towards him almost about to snap back a retort at him when Roger beat me to it.

“Prenter! You outta look into the mirror and say that to yourself, cause if anyone here is the groupie it’s you yah wanker!” At that comeback I actually laughed softly at the insult he gave to Paul. He turned his attention toward me and he bragged, “A smile and a laugh. Guess I’m getting close huh?”

“Please Taylor. One chivalrous deed doesn’t suede me to admit anything.”

“But I still managed to get you to smile, I count that as a win.” I rolled my eyes at him and said as I got off the stage.

“Just play your fake drums drummer boy.” And even though it was beyond my control, a light blush came across my face.

Even with it being a ‘fake’ performance, the boys gave it their all and the song became a huge hit, especially in Japan where the boys did their tour there. Then there was the tour of America which the album ‘Sheer Heart Attack’ hit the charts back home.

I told the guys about my hometown and they tried to convince me to let them see my home but I told them that we had too tight a schedule but next time when there was time, I would show them where I grew up.

Now came time for another album to be recorded and after getting the approval from Foster about the new idea that Freddie had for the ‘A Night at the Opera’, we were on our way to a nice secluded recording studio out in Wales by the summer of 1975.

A few days after getting settled in, I was walking along the outside of the fields, having flashbacks of my grandparent’s farm when I heard a piano playing inside the studio. I walked in and I saw Deacy playing an electric piano and I could hear him softly mutter to himself.

I leaned by the door and kept quiet so that I wouldn’t disturb him as he kept muttering the lyrics and writing them down. Even though Deacy’s always said he’s not a singer, I can’t help but admire what he was humming and muttering to himself. I guess he must’ve seen me because next thing he did, he jumped up startled.

“Sorry, but you don’t have to stop on my account.”

“Just how much did you hear?”

“Heard about enough. It’s beautiful Deacy.” I walked inside the studio and sat down beside him and said, “What’s it called?”

“‘You’re my best friend’. I wrote it for Veronica.”

“Awww.” I awed as I placed my hand over my heart.

“But I doubt the lads will want to play it. Not really rock and roll enough for them for what I imagine it to be.”

“Don’t say that. Maybe they will, hell you play this for Fred and he’ll be on your side and make it go on the album.”

“Thanks (y/n).”

“Plus I know that once Veronica hears this, she’ll fall even deeper in love with you.”

“Oh come off it….”

“I’m serious. Sure some people think it’s cliché and maybe corny but to some girls that just proves a guy really cares about a woman. Especially if that guys a talented songwriter like you.” I said as I sat down beside him and playfully shoved his shoulder with mine.

“I just—wanted to do something for her. I know I haven’t been the best boyfriend to her, especially being away from her this long. I just want her to know that I’m always thinking of her.”

“And she will.” I sighed deeply.

“Okay what’s on your mind?”

“What do you mean?”

“No one sighs like that unless there’s something bothering them, so c’mon out with it. You’re always getting me to spill my guts, now it’s your turn missy.” I playfully scowled at him but caved in because I can never say no to Deacy’s adorable face so I said.

“Okay, there’s—actually it’s been going through my head for the past few years now. I mean I don’t know whether it’s this place, being away from the city but I……” my heart raced and my palms felt sweaty as I finally muttered, “I—I think I love Roger.” Deacy remained silent before finally saying.

“About bloody time you said it.”

“What now?”

“(Y/n) no offense love but you’re not as discreet as you think you are. There’s been so much sexual tension between you two that it’s unbelievable about how thick it is.”

“Well I can’t just get up and tell him how I feel?”

“He’s been trying so hard to get with you since day one, even before we met you last year he’d always talk about the cute neighbor next door to him. Why can’t you just put the poor boy out of his misery.”

“There’s…..there’s more to it than that.” I said solemnly as I fiddled with my nails. Deacy’s eyes became concerned and he said.

“He didn’t do anything wrong to you, did he?”

“No it’s just—” I sighed heavily and said as I fully turned to face him, “Okay, you know how I told you guys the reason why I moved to America was because of the problems going on?” he nodded and I said, “Well—what I’m about to tell you, I’ve never told anyone else, so you have to promise me you won’t tell a soul. Not even Veronica.”

“You know you don’t have to tell me,”

“I know but—I’ve been holding it in for so long, and you’re the most trustworthy person I know. So promise me Deacy.”

“Cross my heart and hope to die.” I sighed deeply and said.

“Okay. Back in college I…..I once knew a guy that was exactly like Roger. He loved to flirt and give out pickup lines. He wasn’t bad looking either, dark brown hair and green eyes. Well, one day during a break in class he came up to me and started flirting with me. And not having a boyfriend before, I—I fell for the pickup lines and the flirtation and soon we started dating.”

“And then he cheated on you?” Deacy asked. I scoffed out a laugh and said.

“I wish, what happened was way worse.”

“Oh god he—he didn’t……”

“No, no not that worse. Don’t worry Deacy.” He sighed with relief for a brief second before listening once more, “Well we dated for about a year and a half and it was our anniversary so I decided to make him some cookies. I went up to the frat boy house he was in and just before I knocked on the door, I heard him and his friends talking.” I trailed off as tears filled my eyes.

I tried to keep them in as I looked up and laughed out icily as I continued,

“Apparently they were all having a contest to see who could get the biggest loser on campus…..and he won. My picture was plastered everywhere all over campus. He stopped talking to me and turned on me by calling me ‘desperate’ and ‘naïve’ for not seeing it earlier. He never loved me; I was nothing but a joke to him.”

“Oh (y/n).”

“The entire student body was against me. So much so that I had to drop out of college and I had to move here. Because even when I wasn’t in school, the teasing and harassment still happened whenever I was out in public. So I moved here where no one knew who I was.” I felt Deacy wrap his arms around me as he lent his shoulder for me to cry on. “Since then, I’ve vowed to close my heart to any flirting or any guy that would try to hurt me again…..and knowing Roger with his groupies I—”

“I get it. What that bastard did was unforgiveable and I can understand where you’re coming from. But you do know that not all guys are like him, right?”

“Of course I do. You, Bri and Fred are the proof of that. Sometimes Rog is also in there but, I’m just—afraid that, even if I do admit to him my real feelings for him……”

“I know. Sometimes Rog can be—a bit much, but when he sets his mind to something he won’t ever stop. No matter who or what gets in his way. Like remember the day you got the stomach flu?” I nodded recalling when he came over and helped take care of me, “Well you may not have known this, but we were in the middle of recording with Reid checking in on us. He actually fought to try and leave just so he could take care of you.”

“He seriously did that? He—he just told me you guys were rehearsing, not recording.”

“Well we were. He may not seem to want to appear soft on most days, but when it comes to you, he’ll drop anything just to make sure you’re okay.” I softly smiled and wiped away my tears and said as I separated from him.

“Thanks for listening Deacy, you’re the best.”

“I know.” He said with a shrug. Before grinning cheekily and chuckled softly which made me chuckle.

“Now you promise not to say anything to the guys?”

“Say what?” He had this twinkle in his eye that told me that he was only playing and I smiled and thanked him once more before leaving the studio to tell him that I needed to get dinner started if the guys were gonna eat on time before they dove too deep into the recording and they end up missing another meal.

About a week later I was sitting outside on the porch swing looking out into the field. It was a nice cool summer day after all the rain we’ve been having the last three days so it was a nice change of scenery weather wise.

“May I join you?” I turned around and there stood Roger.

“I don’t mind.” He then sat himself down just a couple inches away from me on the swing.

“I’ll admit I at first didn’t like this place but it’s growing on me.”

“That’s the thing with you city boys, you just don’t get it.”

“And what would you know country girl?”

“My grandparents owned a farm down in Arkansas. I used to always visit them every summer and Christmas before they both died.”

“I’m so sorry for your loss (y/n).”

“It’s fine. It was over 10 years ago when they died, but I appreciate it Rog.” The two of us sat there for awhile softly swinging on the swing until I finally broke the silence, “Hey Roger,” he turned to me and I said, “I—I’m sorry.”

“For what?”

“Well ever since I moved here, I feel like I haven’t been all that nice to you. And I…..I just want to make sure that you’re not mad or anything.”

“No, no in fact, I wanted to come out here and apologize for some of the things I’ve said to you. It wasn’t right of me to just flirt with you right out of the blue. Also I apologize for keeping you up all night with my drums.”

“That apology I can accept.” We both softly chuckled and I said.

“So do—do you think we can start over?”

“I’d like that. I’m Roger Taylor, nice to meet you new neighbor.” I smiled at him and said as we both shook hands with each other.

“(Y/n) (l/n).” With the hatchet buried and a new bond forged, I thought it was safe to say that Roger and I were now starting a new relationship.

We stayed outside for a good while when I finally turned around to look at him and just like the night we first met, my heart raced at seeing his blonde hair shine like the sun. It was like if Adonis and an angel had a baby, then Roger Taylor would be the end result of their bond. As he turned toward me, I quickly looked back out toward the field and I heard him softly laugh.

“I saw that.”

“You’re so full of it Taylor.” The two of us softly laughed and I broke the silence, “But you are right earlier. This view, this place it’s just so beautiful. I’d love to live in a place like this. No noise from the city, perfect view of the sunrise and sunset. And nothing but greenery for miles and miles ahead.”

“You know I’d be willing to buy you a house like that.” I turned to him and we looked at each other.

“I can’t ask that of you.”

“Why not?”

“Well the well earned money is yours, and I’d rather not take what you and the boys have worked so hard to get.”

“And I can do whatever I want with it, and if I want to buy a country house for a dear friend of mine, then I’ll do it.” I smiled softly and said.

“Thanks Rog, I appreciate it.” I then felt his fingertips softly touch mine and I looked straight into his blue eyes and he looked back at mine.

“(Y/n) I—I know I’ve been hounding you for years on the subject, but that’s because I—I’ve never really known how else to talk to a girl. I know you must think of me as some pigheaded flirt but—I just never knew how else to talk to you. So I…..I hope I don’t ruin this newly formed friendship by say that…..I like you. I really, really, really like you (y/n). These past few years with you have just been…..a blessing to me. And—god now I’ve gone and fucked this up hadn’t—”

I stopped his rambling by placing my lips against his. I felt his right hand go to my waist while his left cupped the side of my face as we deepened the kiss. I slowly lifted my hand and allowed my fingers to comb through his soft blonde hair, we gave each other a couple more pecks and I said.

“Congrats Taylor, you finally got me the right way.”

“You mean—”

“Truthfully I’ve had a crush on you since the night we met.”

“So I was right?” he teased.

“Now don’t go getting a big head drama queen. I just….Can you promise me something Roger?”

“Anything.”

“I—Can we please just take this one day at a time? Back home there was something that really hurt me, I’d rather not talk about it to you just yet, cause I feel like I won’t be able to be stable as I say it.”

“I won’t pressure you for anything (y/n). We can take this as slow as you want.”

“Also, I know how you are with your hookups with groupies. I—I just need to know that you won’t cheat on me or break my heart.”

“I promise (y/n). The only girl I want hanging around my arm is you. I wouldn’t be this persistent if I didn’t want anything more than a hookup with you.” I leaned my head against his shoulder and he wrapped his arms around me and I felt him kiss the side of my head. “I love you so much (y/n).”

“I love you too Roger.”

#bohemian rhapsody #bohemian rhapsody movie #bohemian rhapsody imagines #bohemian rhapsody x reader #roger taylor #roger taylor x reader #ben hardy!roger taylor #ben hardy #ben hardy!roger taylor x reader #ben hardy imagine #ben hardy imagines #roger taylor imagine #roger taylor imagines #ben hardy!roger taylor imagine #ben hardy!roger taylor imagines #john deacon #freddie mercury #brian may #bohemian rhapsody imagine

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queenmaracasandlove · 5 years

Text

You’re My Best (Sex) Friend - Roger Taylor x F!Reader - Part III (Smut)

Word Count: +3700 (sorry...)

Summary: Roger and Y/N are friends with benefits. This is perfectly fine until love comes around. Can be read as Roger x F!Reader or Ben!Roger x F!Reader

Warnings: Unprotected sex (you know the deal...), alcohol, swearing

A/N: I used to love this chapter and now I’m not too sure ahah... Please tell me what you think about it. Thank you all for the support!

Part I Part II Part IV Part V

MASTERLIST

Permanent Taglist: @reedusteinrambles

It was such a special night, such a special moment. Queen was finally out there, becoming a legend in the British musical landscape. Their newest album A Night at the Opera was already platinum only a few weeks after its release and that was the last night of the European leg of their tour. It was even more special because it was recorded by the BBC and was taking place on Christmas Eve. Nothing in the world could have prevented Y/N from attending this concert.

She had not been able to come to the concerts that Queen had been playing in England’s capital earlier that month because of work but she was here tonight. She was still living in Roger’s flat but when he had came back to London for those few dates she had prefered to stay at the hotel where she was still working. She did not want to just cross paths with him for ten minutes every morning and she still has things to figure out. Y/N was still working in the hotel even though she had finally been casted in a little production but she wanted to earn as much money as she could before the end of the tour. She was extremely grateful but she did not want to ask for more than necessary and wanted to move out before the end of March.

The gig was absolutely amazing. Y/N was overjoyed and full of pride. She could not believe they were killing it so much. They were all owning that stage and the connection with the audience was breathtaking. She felt very special being able to call all those musicians her friends. She was so happy to see them from backstage, smiling every time one of them would look in her direction. She was not alone, she was surrounded by managements, few family members and friends. But now she was between Veronica and Mary and that felt weird. Because she was not one of their girlfriends even less so a wife.

These few weeks in Roger’s flat, away from him had been enough for her to reflect on the situation and to come to terms with fact that she was madly in love with Roger Taylor. She had suspected it for quite a while but never wanted to admit it. Still, as she was surrounded by his stuff, sleeping in his clothes and missing him that much there was no way to deny it. That scared her quite a bit. Because he was first and foremost one her best friend, not many people had supported her the way he did and he knew so much about her and she was terrified by her feelings.

He was so handsome behind his drums, making it look so easy with his falsettos and his blond hair, being the only one not wearing white. The concert was close to an end and Y/N’s heart was racing like mad. She had not talked to him for so long. There had been phone calls but her voice had not betrayed her, yet. Roger calling while he was on tour was unusual, at least that often. They had this little habit to keep each other updated on their lives when they could not talk face to face but it was now once a week. She had also received flowers on the first night of her show and even though the card was signed “Queen” she knew he had been the one planning it. Although she did not want to admit it she wished all those signs meant the feelings were mutual.

She had arrived right on time and had only got the time to say hello while Roger was offstage during Brian’s solo. Thankfully he had to say hi to everybody quickly and hadn’t pay too much attention to her. She had no idea how this night was going to end but she hoped more than anything that her feelings would not interfere with their friendship and behaviour.

Y/N could hear the crowd screaming their names (and Roger’s was shouted more than once) as they bowed one last time. She could not stop herself from clapping her hands or smiling, she was so proud. Roger was completely full of adrenaline because of the show. He went straight towards Y/N and took her in his arms.

“Rog’ it’s disgusting you’re so sweaty” she said, internally enjoying this as much as she could

“That was amazing right?”

“Much more than that” she smiled

And just like that he kissed her. His naked torso against her chest. It was so brief and yet both of their body had been electrified. Roger hadn’t been able to fight against this urge in him. Before they were able to say anything, Freddie’s arm was around Roger’s shoulder as he dragged him somewhere else backstage. They were about to throw a big party, it was Christmas Eve after all and they had to celebrate this incredible night.

Roger glanced at Y/N one last time before he was too far. He was so scared to have ruin everything, he was always so impulsive. He was completely obsessed by Y/N and he had been for so long now. He needed to call her every time he could, hearing her voice and making sure she was doing fine. Roger had had to face the truth too, literally because every time he had slept with a girl during the tour he would always end up picturing Y/N’s face in front of him. So he had stop, because it wasn’t fair for them and because the only thing that could make him get off was imagining Y/N naked in his bedsheets back in London. He wanted more than her body though, because that he already had in a way, no he wanted her, entirely. Because he loved her.

There were so many people, so much alcohol and other things but all felt so alive. Everybody wanted to congratulate the band for their success and the amazing show they had pulled of so it had been impossible for Y/N and Roger to talk. They looked at each other from time to time, making sure that the other was still there, in the corner of the room.

‘So, how are you?” Mary asked Y/N, stopping her from daydreaming

Mary and Y/N knew each other quite well even though they were not extremely close. They usually spent a lot of time together one the days they both attended the band’s rehearsal or parties. They liked each other’s company because they both had the same admiration and respect for the boys. Mary had been kind enough to give Y/N’s discount on new clothes for her to go to her auditions and they had gone for a cup of tea a few weeks ago.

“I’m great thanks. The play was great and I’ve taken on a new project starting in January”

“That’s amazing ! I’m so happy things are finally going great for you. You deserve it so much”

“Thank you Mary, I really appreciate it. And you? How is it going?”

She wanted to ask her about her relationship with Freddie but she didn’t. She had always felt that deep connection between them but still, she knew that something was not right, especially lately. Nevertheless she was determined to be supportive of her friends’ choices no matter what.

“Oh, it’s alright you know. I’m still working and Freddie’s on tour so I’m pretty much alone all the time. Well I have the cats but...”

Y/N could see real sadness in Mary’s eyes. She had been engaged to Freddie for a few years now and it was already they’re third tour as Queen.

“That must be hard for you” Y/N said

“Oh you know… I guess you don’t really have the choice when you’re in love with a rockstar. And if you’re in love that doesn’t really matter” she replied

Y/N looked at Roger, in the corner of the room, joking with a guy she did not know, his ridiculous wig still on his head. Would she ever be able to do the same? In the event of anything serious happening between her and Roger, would she be able to spend months without him? Was her love for him strong enough for that kind of thing? She suddenly realised how stupid it was to think about things like this and yet there had been that kiss between them.

Mary was not stupid. She could see what was going on right under her nose. She would have never believed that Roger and Y/N could be an item when they had first met a few years ago but now it was obvious. The way they had become close could be seen as unconventional but it did not lessen the genuine relationship that had flourished from it. But Mary was also aware of how hard it was to be the partner of a member of the band…

“It makes it easier to know how happy he is when he’s doing what he loved you know. I think it’s just the beginning and that’s all he’s ever wished for” she carried on “when he calls and he tells me how much fun they’re having. When I see the crowds shouting his name. That’s amazing”

“I… Yes I guess so” was all Y/N was able to reply “Let’s have another drink shall we?”

She was already quite tipsy but her brain was about to explode and she needed to find relief somewhere. All that Mary had just said was true. The blond had no intention to create such questioning in Y/N, on the contrary. But all she could think about was the hypothetical life she could have with Roger, how it was just the beginning of a long life of success and months on the road. What did she have to offer that would make him want to go home to her. She remembered what he had said about being ‘happy at home”, not the kind of life he wanted or at least that was how she interpreted his words.

She was in a middle of possessing her thoughts, finishing her glass and pouring herself another one when she noticed someone in front of her.

“I’m sorry I could not come and talk to you earlier” he said with his raspy voice, “I’m so happy you’re here. At least you’re enjoying the little party” Roger said looking at the drink in her hand

His top was still opened and sober was not the best way to describe him right now. He was looking at Y/N as if she was the most delicious piece of cake in the whole world. Y/N was immediately turned on by his gaze and shivered as he put an arm around her waist.

“I’ve missed you Roger” she said

“I’ve fucking missed you too” he whispered in her ear

He had drunk because he wanted to celebrate but also because he was afraid. Scared of how he would behave with Y/N, one of the reasons he had avoided her for so long, but now that the alcohol was rushing through his veins he could not be away from her any longer. His mouth was still next to Y/N’s head and he gently kissed her neck. He wasn’t doing anything wrong after all. They were friends with benefits and it would not be the first time that he would behave this way with her, at least on the surface.

“I want you babe”

“Then just fuck me Rog”

She was now looking at him right in the eyes, as turned on as he was. Without saying any more he grabbed her hand and led her through the hallway to an empty room. As soon as the door was closed their lips smashed against each other. It was more than sexual desire, it was passion. Their tongue were playful and so were their hands. It didn’t take long for Y/N to unbutton Roger’s pants and put her hand inside it, teasing his shaft over the fabric of his underwear.

“Fuck Y/N. You’re really in a hurry aren’t you?”

“I just want you so bad”

They had both agreed with themselves that tonight was not the night to confess but at least they could express their feelings in a way that would not betray them. Roger had now pressed Y/N against the wall. She let go of his pants so she could take off her dress, she wanted to feel his skin against hers. She needed the touch and she wasn’t disappointed. Roger was now kissing every little inch of her body as if he worshiped it. She wasn’t used to that kind of softness with him and that made her go crazier.

He went down on his knees, this time he was facing her clothed core and he immediately saw that she was dripping. A smirk appeared on his face he slowly made the little piece of clothing go down on her legs. Y/N was now completely naked in front of him as he kissed her pussy.

“Open your legs for me love”

She obeyed, moaning in anticipation, letting out a little cry when she felt his tongue lick her slit. At first he just played a little, building up the tension but not providing much pleasure until he frankly pressed his tongue against her clit. Roger made sure he found exactly the right spot before playing with it. The pleasure was to much for Y/N and she felt her knees were about to fail her.

“Rog’, I can’t…”

The drummer looked around him. The room was full of flight cases so he grabbed Y/N’s legs, holding her tight and put her onto the closest one trying not to be brutal in the rush.

“Fuck, you look so hot”

She was there, right in front of him, her legs spread and her look begging for more and it made him feel invincible. He wanted to finish his work and so he did, inserting two fingers inside Y/N before kissing her. He looked at her while moving his fingers, reading on her face the moment he would find the perfect spot and knew he had when she gasped. He started playing with it as she arched her back. Her legs were starting to shake.

“Roger, that’s so fucking good” she cried

“Say my name again love”

Right now he felt so powerful hearing his name coming out of her mouth. It was him who made her feel this way and even if he wanted more it was good enough for now.

“Roger, please” she begged

“Come on, one more time” he asked as her legs began to shake

“ROGER” she screamed as she reached her high

She was out of breath and he felt her juices pouring around his fingers. She looked so beautiful and he wanted to tell her how he felt but he could not. He was afraid to ruin everything. In the madness that was his life right now she was the constant. He needed her and he could not afford to risk everything. And it wasn’t the moment to think about that, he had business to finish. He had dreamt about being inside her for weeks and he could not wait any longer.

“Are you ready for round two?” he asked

She nodded, biting her lips in anticipation while opening her legs for him. He placed himself in front of her going in just with the tip, teasing her. She would not last long so he wanted to take his time. He went inside her and slowly started thrusting. He leaned in to kiss her as she bit his lower lips. She was already close, tightening around his cock. He started rubbing her clit. They were so close, what they were sharing at this moment had nothing to do with all their previous encounters. They were expressing all that was kept inside and it became more intense every second. Y/N’s nails were deep into Roger’s skin as he thrust deeper into her, growling.

“Cum for babe” he said

She indeed came for the second time of the night, letting out a scream. He kept thrusting into her until she was completely done. She had not felt so good for what felt like forever. He knew she would not let him down as she straighten herself up. She wanted his lips, his perfect lips. She knew she would not be able to feel them once this would be over because it would mean something else and it would not have been right. She kissed him passionately, her fingers in his blond hair before going down on his torso and then onto his erected member. She started pumping, their tongue still playing with each other. She could hear some growls escaping from his mouth.

She eventually broke the kiss and went down on her knees. She started to lick the tip of his shaft still pumping with her right hand.

“Fuck Y/N, let me cum in your mouth please”

She complied, she started to suck his length, going faster and faster and taking it deeper and deeper. The hips of the drummer helping her to find the right pace, suddenly stopping as she felt his fluids pouring into her mouth. She swallowed before getting back on her feet. They kissed one last that time, their naked bodies boiling and attracted to one another. And eventually they parted. They had so many things to say but so many reasons why not to say them at this very moment so they did not.

That was it. They silently picked up their clothes, not sure about what to do next. Usually they would go on with whatever they had to do, have a little chat maybe but the tension was palpable even after what happened. Y/N was waiting for Roger to put his pants back on and she noticed what was around his neck.

“Lovely necklace” she said

“Yeah, I bought it on the advice of a person with great taste” knowing that it was her during their afternoon in Camden

“We should probably join the others before they leave the place and we’re stuck here”

Although she secretly wished it would be the case. She would love to spend hours with him, just so they could talk although she knew deep inside that he would become mad and unbearable in less than an hour. He agreed, nodding. He would have like to hold hands but he was sure she would not want to, she had said yes for sex, not for a relationship, at least for now.

They went back to where the party which was in full swing, nobody noticing they were back because nobody had paid attention to the fact that they were gone. They got some drinks and looked at each other before they started talking, as if there was nothing more natural in the world. Everything they had wanted to tell each other, the little anecdotes about life on tour, she told him all about her new job, the little part she had played and she how was to join this new production where she would have a singing role. The phone calls were more regular but they were always very short and they did not have the time to talk about all those things. Roger pointed at some people around the room, most of them wrecked as he explained what their job was on tour. They were so happy for each other, so happy to spend this moment together and sharing.

The night went on with everybody dancing and partying. Freddie was all over the place while Veronica and John left before anyone else. Brian was completely wrecked in a corner and Y/N was laughing out loud because of Roger’s silliness. She started to dance with Freddie, Roger’s wig on her head and feeling happier than ever. At some point she fell next to Roger on one couch, completely exhausted and he took her hand into his. They were so drunk they did not notice and stayed this way for a bit, looking at the mess around them.

But time came for the night to end, he would go back to his family for Christmas day and stay there until he had to leave for North America. They were on their way to go, Roger’s arm around Y/N’s waist as they were waving to say goodbye to everybody.

“Here you are my man. That was amazing!” said one of the roadie

“Thank you” Roger answered

“I bet you’re excited about going back to the U.S right? I hope you kept the numbers of your lovely ladies that kept you busy last time. Not that you can’t find new ones eh” he winked before leaving the room

Y/N was looking at the floor, taking in what she had just heard. There was nothing wrong with it really, nothing she didn’t know and nothing Roger wasn’t entitled to do. But it hurt. Because for a moment she had thought that tonight had been special but it was not. They were just having fun and that was it, she was lucky enough to call him a friend, she could not ask for more.

Roger wanted to say something, to tell Y/N that it was not true and that he did not want to sleep with anyone but her. That he wanted her to wait for him and that as soon as he’d be back he would made her the happiest girl in the world if she agreed to be his girlfriend. But he realised how unfair that was. He could not ask her that, leaving her with just a kiss and a promise, only coming back months later. She was finally fulfilling her dream and he could not be not be an obstacle to that in any way. He would wait, until the end of the tour, and then he would properly asked her on date. He did not want to get ahead of himself and make to many projects. It needed to stay focused on the tour, this could be dealt with later.

“Happy Christmas Roger” she simply said as they were waiting for a taxi

“Happy Christmas Y/N” he replied, hugging her

They went back to the flat together, and slept in each other’s arms without saying anything, without questioning if it was good or wrong, too drunk and too tired, enjoying the warmth of their bodies intertwined.

#queenmaracasandlove #queen #queen smut #queen imagines #roger taylor #ben!roger x reader #roger x reader #roger taylor smut #ben!roger imagine #You're my best (sex) friend #queen fiction #bohemian rhapsody #borhap #bohrhap

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pleasurextreasure · 6 years

Text

❜ musical aid

genre: nurse reader x rockstar jongdae fluff!

words: 1.6k

warnings: not proof-read! the video of my inspiration of jongdae’s solo stage, might give you major jongdae feels. you have been warned.

Prompt: jongdae has a little incident off stage while you’re the nurse at a music festival

a/n: admin kiki called for a war so now she’s getting one, be glad it’s not sehun ➶admin lele

Music festivals weren’t really your thing, but when you were offered over time you couldn’t resist the offer. You would be inside a tent, away from the sun and people, but would still have to suffer the heat.

So instead of having on a nurse uniform like you would usually would you sported a pair of vans, ripped jeans and a red t-shirt that had the words medic written across it.

You could hear the loud screams from the crowd, as the band would be playing in less than ten minutes and their excitement couldn’t be contained. You on the other head put your sunglasses on top of your head as the sun was starting to set, not having a need for them anymore.

Exiting the small tent you were currently sat in, you stood by the entrance looking at the crowd of people who were way too closely compact as they reminded you of molecules.

The cheers got louder making your ears start to hurt from the frequency of the screaming. Still staying put you glanced at the stage, but not being able to see anything besides the outline of a few boys.

Hearing the guitar come to life a loud cry could be heard from the fans, and instead of staying to watch the concert you were called back into your tent by a coworker to assist them with a sprained ankle a girl no older than seventeen.

Screams were soon heard as you heard the guitar and the drums stopped playing signalling the end of the show. In relief you let out a sigh as you sat on a fold up chair, knowing only a half hour was left of the concert and you could soon get to bed.

As it was close to the end of the night, there was only two nurses other than you who were still on shift but they seemed to have disappeared when you weren’t looking leaving you to stay alone.

The fake lighting that lit up the tent showed the presence of a boy who was entering the tent with his hand held up to his forehead. You glanced at him and motioned for him to take a seat as you saw blood leaking from under his hand.

As he removed his hand you saw he had a big gash on the left side of his face, and his brown highlighted hair has a few strands sticking to his sweat covered forehead.

Putting on a pair of gloves you decided to take note of the rest of his outfit. He wore a Rolling Stones muscle shirt, and ripped black jeans as you couldn’t help but take notice of his biceps that seemed to be popping out.

“How did this happen?” You asked him as you removed the loose strands of hair from his cut and placing an cotton pad filled with alcohol on his burn making him hiss.

“I hit myself with a drumstick.” He said making you look down at his facial expression that clearly held embarrassment.

“So you were the drummer.” You asked making his eyes follow your body movements, as you were throwing away the bloody cotton pad.

Your fingers ran over your equipment looking for a tube of neosporin, to make the cut heal faster. You squeezed some out on your pointer finger as you squatted down to be at face level with the boy in front of you. Gently you placed your fingers above the cut and rubbed in the gel like cream making him wince at the application.

“No I’m actually the lead singer, I just was attempting to copy my bandmate.” He said after you finished placing the cream on his forehead.

“Do you want a band aid or can I trust you not to touch your forehead.” You asked while going to grab for a band aid anyway.

“I don’t know if the band aid will stick to my forehead since I’m kind of sweaty. Sorry about that by the way.” He said as he stood and towered over you.

“It’s fine don’t worry about it.” You spoke handing him the band aid in case he’d need it later.

“I’m performing the last song it would be nice if you came to watch.” His words sounded more like a question than an offer as he took the band aid from you.

You nodded your head in agreement as he turned his back and walked away from you. You noticed his back muscles were very prominent through the back of his shirt, making you want to scream and throw a new shirt at him from the heart attack he was about to give you.

As you heard a guitar riff go off, you exited the tent stood behind the crowd that grew smaller. You were now closer to the stage then you would’ve been if you stood behind the crowd before as people were trying to leave before others to get to bed.

“Alright this is the last song of the night.” The boy who you had fixed in the tent yelled out as the drums started and the group started there last song.

At this point you weren’t even focused on the music that was being played. You were more interested in the lead singer who was singing his heart out. You took note of the little things, like the tattoo that peeked out from his shirt and how every time he hit a high note his neck vein would pop out.

He couldn’t seem to stay in the same place as he moved from one side of the stage to another. His back bending at the high notes that were too intense and the way he’d move his head to the side.

The embarrassed boy from inside the tent couldn’t be the same boy that was up on stage at this very moment. They were two different people and you couldn’t figure out which one you were more attracted to.

“I just wanted to thank everyone who came here to see us perform today.” He started off his voice seemed strained from all the singing he had just done.

As you were packing up your things to leave, you heard a cough from behind you making you whip around. Your eyes met the boy from earlier, that stood looking at the ground as his foot made patterns in the dirt.

“I was wondering if you’d like to go grab a drink from earlier.” He asked while his eyes stood on the ground.

“If I could get your name, then maybe.” You said with a playful tone.

“Jongdae.” He spoke with his voice still slightly strained making it sound deeper, and you wanting to dig yourself a hole in this ground right now.

“Y/n.” You spoke as you moved closer towards him.

You were walking towards him until you ended up tripping over the unleveled ground and falling to the ground. Embarrassingly standing up to your feet Jongdae looked at you and your scraped knee and guided you to sit down so he could clean you up.

He followed the same steps you did earlier as you watched him and his concentration. He was being so gentle not to hurt you in anyway, while getting the band aid you gave him earlier out of his pocket and put it on your knee.

“I guess I did need the band aid.” He said with a cheeky grin.

You walked into the small bar as it was the only place opened at this hour and thanked Jongdae for holding the door open for you. Sitting at a booth Jongdae went over to get drinks as you stood staring at the slightly tattered seats.

Your attention was soon brought to the small squeal you heard as you noticed a few girls giddily jumping up and down at something. Thinking they were just drunk you were brought back to stare at the table until you heard Jongdae’s voice call out.

“Alright I’ll take a picture with you.” You could hear the tiredness in his voice as he was trying not to show it.

Your attention was drawn to him instead of the other girls immediately. Noticing how his fingers played with the ring on his middle finger as the girl kissed his cheek. Each girl thanked him after as he brought both drinks from the bar and placed them down on the booth.

“You’re quite the catch.” You said as you took a sip from your drink, as he chuckled a little bit.

Soon your conversation escalated as you went from talking about your favorite bands to fighting over which dog breed was superior. The bar was now at closing time as Jongdae had called a taxi that both of you sat in the back of.

“And all of a sudden I woke up covered in some weird oil and smelling like a garden, as Sehun told me he wanted to try a skin mask he saw on Pinterest.” He finished his story that made you laugh as the taxi came to a stop and you realized it was your house.

“Thank you for tonight Jongdae, I really enjoyed it.” You said as you went to exit the taxi as he held you back lightly.

“Here.” He said as he handed you some kind of ticket.

“Come to the festival again tomorrow, but instead of a nurse come as my date.” He spoke with his hand still on your wrist.

“We’ll see.” You said teasingly as you placed a small kiss on his cheek before leaving the taxi and one of the most attractive people you ever met.

#exo #jongdae #chen #rockstar chen #chen scenarios #exo scenarios #kpop #kpop senarios #kpop reactions #kpop moodboard #sehun #xiumin #suho #kai #chanyeol

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classic-rock-roller · 6 years

Text

1. You’re hanging out with Bonham and Arin and Danny at lunch during the filming of the power hour. You’re talking about supporting small artists when Danny says, “Me and Arin found this really cool artist the other day, they’re not very well known, but they covered video game stuff and some stuff they say are covers but I’ve never heard them before. Here, I’ll show you.” He pulls it up, and it’s Bonham’s old YouTube channel of cover songs from before you knew each other. How do you and her react to seeing it, and what do Danny and Arin say after you tell them? Me: oh that was Bons before we became a band. Dan and Arin: What?! Bons: yeah that's actually how we met partially 2. Kevin and Bonham are still fighting, and one day, Kevin calls her a talentless hack who got lucky. Before anyone else can say anything, you hear her say, “If you’re not careful I’m gonna beat the jew outta you, boy.” How do you, Erik, Linus, and Sean respond? Erik and Sean: fight, fight, fight!!! Linus: ...idiots Me: Ok, that's enough you both need time to cool off and Kevin stop being a fucking jackass 3. Bonham got bored one day so she decided to color her hair. She shows up to rehearsal with a blonde sunburst on top of her dark hair, and says, “What do you think?” Sean is the first one to respond, and he says, “I don’t like it, change it back.” How do you, Kevin, and the rest of your band respond? Me: I like it. Linus: it looks good Erik is in the bathroom Kevin: I think it looks good too 4. You’re hanging out with Kevin one day and Bonham is upstairs sleeping. After a while you hear a muffled, “Shit!” come from upstairs. Soon, she comes down the stairs, frantically saying, “I’m late, I’m late, I’m–Oh fuck!” followed by a wooden sounding crunch. You turn and see that in her haste, she broke through the center of one of your stairs. How do the two of you respond? Me: Are you ok?! Kevin: Great going, Bons 5. You’ve been hanging out with the grumps more often lately, and Danny has taken to giving you and Bonham nicknames. He calls you Lovely and he calls her a Delicious Treat. One day Bonham asks him how he came up with them. How does he respond, and what do you, Bonham, and Arin say in response? Danny: Well, BabyCarrot is Lovely and Bonham is a delicious treat. We both blush Arin: That doesn't explain anything. 6. Bonham has been drinking more lately, and one day she’s drunk while at your house. Mal asks you and Kevin, “What’s wrong with auntie Bons?” Kevin says, “Well buddy, lately she’s been drinking too much silly juice and it’s making her do different things.” Before he can respond, Bonham shouts from across the room, “Fuck you Kevin. And it’s not silly juice it’s necessary juice.” How do you, Kevin, and Mal respond? Mal goes up to Bons and goes, "Auntie Bons, please don't drink anymore silly juice. I don't like you like this. It scares me." Kevin: Yeah, Bons, you're scaring my kid. Me: Do it for Mal, please Bons. 7. You come in to rehearsal one day with Kevin to find the boys in the studio and Bonham handcuffed to a desk. “How’d you get like that?” You ask. “Nevermind that, can you get me out of here?” Kevin sets to work on picking the lock and says, “You always seem to get handcuffed to stuff when Sean’s around.” She responds with, “Shut up if it weren’t for handcuffs I’d still be a virgin.” The boys are coming into the booth just as she says that. How do you, Sean, Kevin, Erik, and Linus respond? Sean and Erik: What?! Linus: What did we just walk in to? Me: That's very concerning Kevin: How did that happen? 8. Bonham’s noodling around one day in the studio with you and QR for your collaboration when she starts to play Clarinet Candy (available on request). When she pauses, Kevin says, “Jesus those are some fast notes.” She smiles and says, “I got the fastest tongue in the West. That came out wrong.” How do you, Kevin, Carlos, Rudy, and Frankie respond? Kevin and Frankie are laughing. Carlos: Want to put that tongue to good use? Me: Carlos! Rudy: Carlos, don't be a creep. 9. You’re on the set of Game Grumps with Bonham one day waiting for the final cut before uploading when Arin and Danny ask you, “Have you ever played fire truck?” You tell them no and they both get excited. “This’ll be funny, Shelby hasn’t either.” They sit each of you down in chairs, and Arin kneels in front of you while Danny kneels in front of her. “Alright,” Arin explains. “This is how it works.” He puts a hand on your ankle, and Danny does the same to Shelby. “Our hands are the fire trucks, and your legs are the streets. When you want us to stop, you say red light. Got it?” You both say yes, so they both slowly begin moving their hands up your legs. Arin gets just above your knee when you say red light. He giggles a little before saying “Fire trucks don’t stop for red lights.” and keeps moving his hand. How do you react? How does Shelby react to the game? What do the Grumps say when you’re done? Me: If you don't take your hand off my thigh right now I'm kicking you in the jewels. Arin jumps up and pouts before saying, "You're no fun." Bons makes it a little longer but then accidentally kicks Danny. While Danny is on the floor he goes, "...this may not have been our best idea." 10. You and Bonham Meet Kevin and Rudy in the studio one day and Kevin looks to be in distress. “What’s wrong, man? I haven’t seen you this devastated since I told you Candy Land isn’t a real country.” Bonham says. How do they respond, and what’s the cause of the distress? Me: Really Kevin He thought I was super pissed at him over something. 11. You and Kevin and Sean are hanging out one day and Bonham’s got music going. A nice bass solo comes in and she says, “I’m always a slut for a kickass rock and roll bass line.” “Is that why you’re such a virgin at songwriting?” Kevin asks. How do you, Bonham, and Sean respond? Bons: I will punch you in the face and not regret it. Sean: Hah, nice one Me: Kevin, don't be an ass. 12. You’re dating Duff since you and Kevin broke up a while back, and you two are on a date one day. You’re having a ncie time when you see Bonham walk in. She walks over and says hi. “What are you dong here man? You wanna join us?” Duff says. “Oh, no thanks, I’m actually meeting somebody here.” she says. He asks who she’s meeting but just at that moment, Kevin walks up and says, “Hey babe.” before kissing her. Turns out that’s who she’s meeting. Duff suspects he’s doing this just to try to get to you. How do you and Duff react, and what do all four of you say when the kiss breaks? We both smile and I go, "Good for you guys! I hope you have a good date. Bons I'll see you at home you gotta tell me all about it." Kevin blinks and Bons goes, "I told you your idiotic plan wouldn't work. Now I have to go home to wash my mouth out with soap. Blegh." She leaves Kevin standing there with a bright red face looking stupid. 13. In the studio for your collab with QR, Kevin keeps picking on Bonham’s sax part. “You need more vibrato, you sound automated.” he keeps telling her. At one point she looks at him and says, “You want vibrato? I’ll give you fucking vibrato.” She takes a breath, and as she plays her note she shakes her instrument, producing a disgustingly shaky sound out of anger. How does Kevin respond, and what do you and the rest of QR say? Kevin: Well...not that. Me: My ears Rudy: Jesus Randy: You alright there, babe? Drew: Jesus I think you blew out my ear drum. 14. After Rudy and Bonham break up, Sean is antsier than usual during rehearsal; so much so that you pull him aside and ask him about it. Instead of telling you why he’s antsy, he says, “I need to ask you something, as my friend and as my boss. I want to date Bonham, but I know that that’s fucked with your lineup in the past. I want to know if you’ll give me permission to. I’m not leaving the band, whatever happens.” What do you tell him? How does he respond? Me: I don't think that's a good idea. You work together and you're also ten years younger than her. Sean: I respect your decision and won't pursue a relationship with Bonham but age is just a number you know. -------------------- 1. You and your singer let Tommy, Nikki, and Vince stay with you guys after they were evicted from their apartment. One day, you and your singer come back to find burned footprints in the carpet and you find Nikki standing in the middle of your singer's bedroom with his thigh high boots on fire and Tommy and Vince looking at him. "Jesus fucking Christ!" Your singer screams, she goes to get the fire extinguisher and Nikki steps closer to her records. She screams, "Step away from the records." Before blasting him with the fire extinguisher. "What the fuck were the three of you doing? Why are there burned footprints on our carpet?" You ask. How do Tommy, Nikki, and Vince respond and what do you and your singer say? 2. Your singer has been debating about dying we hair for weeks. She finally does it and when she comes out to you and Kevin before she drys it kevin goes, "Did the dye even take to your hair?" How do you and your singer respond? 3. Your singer comes to a rehearsal for you and your joint tour with Crüe. She brings along this guy and she introduces him as Mick. "This is Mick. He's a good friend." She then introduces him to you guys and she stops at Mick and says "And this is Mick Mars. He is where you got your nickname from." How do you, Mick, Tommy, Nikki, and Vince respond? 4. Your manager thought it would be a great idea to put you on one of those tidying shows for publicity. The lady comes to help you clean and she makes a beeline for you and your singer's records in the living room and starts talking about pairing them down. Your singer says, "If you lay a hand on our records I will fucking cut you. Don't fucking touch them." How do you and the cleaning lady respond? 5. You and Kevin are at a bar. Your singer is with you and Kevin has a huge crush on her (but he hasn't asked her out yet). You just roll your eyes and say, "Go talk to her." He gives you a look and goes, "Are you crazy? "I can't talk to her. She's got that "don't fuck with me" attitude all over her." Your singer comes over and goes, "Who had "don't fuck with me" all over them?" How do you and Kevin respond? 6. You and your singer are on a public plane with Crüe to get to one of your concerts. All of a sudden you hear Panama by Van Halen playing over the speakers and David Lee Roth comes walking down the plane aisle like Jesus and Michael, Alex, and Eddie are close behind them. Your singer runs to Nikki next to her and goes, "Jesus are they full of themselves. We came on like normal people." She says this loud enough for David to hear. How does David respond and what do you, Nikki, your singer, Mick say? 7. You, Sean, Kevin, and Rudy are helping your singer's family set up for her aunts memorial. You're looking through pictures to put in frames when Rudy pulls out a photo of her and her cousin and says, "Aww you looked so adorable as a little kid." Sean pulls it out of Rudy's hand and looks at it before saying, "If you think playing tug of war like a dog is adorable." How do you, your singer, Kevin, and Rudy respond? 8. You and Rudy are helping your singer clean out your and her kitchen and Rudy is rifling through some junk drawers. He pulls out an old zippo lighter and asks her, "Why do you have an old, rusty zippo lighter? It's junk." Your singer grabs it from him and goes, "Don't throw it out! It was my aunt's and it reminds me of her." How do you and Rudy respond? 9. You and your band are taking a break from recording and Sean has his laptop out. All of a sudden he says, "People ship our band weirdly." When you ask what he means, he turns his computer towards you and your singer and you find a detailed orgy fic of your band. How do you, your singer, Erik, and Linus respond? 10. You and your singer are in line with Kevin at a famous soup kitchen in New York. The owner is called the soup nazi but you have no idea why. Your singer goes to order and she's about to say something and she stumbles over the soup. The chef slams his soup spoon on the counter and screams, "No soup for you!" How do you, Kevin, and your singer respond? 11. You, Sean, and Kevin are sitting on the couch watching a movie when your singer storms into the living room, throws a box at Sean and goes, "Stop hiding your coke in a fucking candy box, Sean. I don't want my kids eating it. If I find that you haven't kicked the coke habit by the new year, the band is putting you in rehab. Because this is getting ridiculous." How do you, Sean, and Kevin respond? 12. Your band ends up putting Sean into rehab and on the first group therapy session you can tell Sean has a lot of resentment towards your singer. How does the therapy session go and what do you, your singer, Erik, Linus, and Kevin say to Sean about his drug use? @osbournebemydaddy Your turn Bons :)

#tag war #tag game

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audreysmusicaljourney · 3 years

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Album #112: Elton John “Goodbye Yellow Brick Road” (1973)

I have definitely heard of this album, but I don’t think I have ever listened to it before.

The opening track “Funeral for a Friend/Love Lies Bleeding” has an unexpected electronic sound mashed up with a piano/rock track I like the slower part of the instrumental intro to this track when it is just the piano. John’s vocals are good on this track; I like the background vocals as well. “Candle in the Wind” is a beautiful tribute to Marilyn Monroe. The first version of this song that I ever heard was the 1997 tribute to Princess Diana, but I like the original version better. John’s vocals are incredibly genuine on this track. “Bennie and the Jets” is a classic rock track. I like the variations with John’s vocals as well as the piano solo at the middle of this track. His falsetto works! I never realized that there were whistles on this track, which gives it more of a live sound.

“Goodbye Yellow Brick Road” is a nice piano ballad. The bridges are beautiful with the vocals harmonizing with the strings arrangement. I love the title of the track “This Song Has No Title.” Who knew that John had that kind of silliness in him? It’s a good track I have never heard before. I like the determinedness with which John sings on “Grey Seal.” It has a good rock sound. It sounds like something that would be part of a rock opera. I have never heard “Jamaica Jerk-off” before, but John actually does pretty well with the reggae genre of music. To me, Elton John and Billy Joel sound a lot alike. This is especially true on the track “I’ve Seen That Movie Too.” There’s a lot of soul from John on this track.

“Sweet Painted Lady” also sounds like something that could be by Billy Joel. It sounds like “Vienna” with the accordion. The vocals on “The Ballad of Danny Bailey (1909-34)” saunter along in time with the piano and guitars. This is definitely a ‘70s rock song. I like the piano solon on this track. There is some major attitude from John on “Dirty Little Girl,” but the lyrics don’t fool me. John would never force a woman to be washed against her will, no matter how long it’s been since she’s had a bath. There’s a grittier sound to the track “All the Girls Love Alice.” The guitar on this track sounds like what you would hear from ‘00s alternative rock before it transitions to an electronic funk sound. I like the inclusion of a female background chorus on this track as well.

“Your Sister Can’t Twist (But She Can Rock ‘n Roll)” has a psychedelic rock vibe with vocal harmonies that seem inspired by the Beach Boys. It’s a fun track. I know the track “Saturday Night’s Alright for Fighting.” It has a really good rock sound. The guitar rhythm is familiar and the drums keep the groove going. There is a strength to John’s vocals on this track. There’s a slight country vibe to “Roy Rogers,” but I don’t hate it. It’s more of a ballad than a country song in my opinion. Now “Social Disease” is a country song with the banjo and John’s honky-tonk-esque vocals. I do like the use of the saxophone to give it more of a jazz sound over the piano. “Harmony” is a nice closing track.

Rating: 8/10

How I Listened: Spotify

Takeaway: Elton John is insanely talented, but a few of these tracks were just “Ehhh.” My mind is still blown that he had a reggae song, and that he did so well with that sound. Makes sense since that genre was killing it in the ‘70s, but that was entirely unexpected.

#rs500albums #nowspinning #nowstreaming

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sending-the-message · 7 years

Text

A New meaning to Drink Myself to Death by JamesonKeystrokes

“You got time for a story, friend?”

Why not? I was already drinking alone at noon on Halloween. Feeling sorry for myself, again. I looked over at the man, it was dark in the bar and the hoodie pulled over his head made it impossible to see his face. For I knew he was a regular. I was the stranger here. Not him. I’m getting ahead of myself though.

Three hours earlier I had woken up to my phone ringing.

“You’re on your way… right?” My best friend Matt spoke from the other line of the phone. Not even bothering with the pleasantries.

“Yeah, yeah man, I’m making great time.” I responded, trying to sound like he didn’t just wake me up, causing my unforgiving hangover to kick into hyper drive.

“Nick, you asshole. You’re still sleeping! Come on, dude!” When you knew someone for 20 of the 25 years you were alive, it was hard to lie to them.

I sat up and grabbed the bottle of water on my nightstand, cracking it open and chugging almost the entire thing- drunk me must have been looking out- with a audible exhale. I stood up, giving myself a second for my equilibrium to gain some stability. Matt was waiting for me to respond, patiently.

“I’m up and will be out the door in no time at all.” I responded, walking into the small bathroom in my small apartment right smack in the middle of nowhere northern Maine.

“I already told everyone you’re coming, so you can not bail now, I don’t care how busy you are at work.”

“No, man. I’ll be there I’m actually looking forward to it. It’ll be nice to see everyone. Not looking forward to the drive though.” I had a seven-hour drive ahead of me to make it back to Connecticut.

“It’ll all be worth it, this party is going to be insane. Trust me.”

“See you soon.” Matt hung up and I jumped in the shower, letting the cold water wake me up.

Over a half year ago, my company relocated me to oversee the opening of a new location. It was supposed to be for six months, but there I was eight months and counting later. Stuck in a boring town, in a small apartment, in the middle of the woods with nothing around me but forest. There was a small center of town that consisted of a grocery store, a bar, and a movie theater that closed years ago.

Sadly, the bar was the only other place I had gone when I wasn’t sulking at home. I had made some “friends” at work but none of them invited their boss to hangout if it wasn’t a work event, especially when more ninety percent of them were older than me. Nope, to them I was just some kid who was cool enough to talk to in the office but nothing more than that.

I quickly packed a bag, loaded up my car and started the trek back home. My phone was flooding with texts of friends that were actually excited to see me. I smiled and responded, I was starting to get pumped up now that I was en route… until I hit the dead stop traffic. Not even half way home and I was sitting bumper to bumper. Slowly crawling a mile in just over an hour I decided to get off the next exit and grab some lunch and maybe a beer to kill some time. Hopefully the traffic would let up.

I drove through what looked like a ghost town for twenty minutes until I saw the small shack stuck in the corner of a dirt road. The small red building looked like an old barn that was remodeled into a bar. “The Canteen” had a few cars in the parking lot… and I use that term lightly seeing as it was just a dirt road.

Hey man, dead stop traffic, running behind. Don’t get too wasted before I make it home.

I sent Matt text, he replied that he wouldn’t as I was walking into the bar. It was fairly normal on the inside. A few booths, a pool table in back, a jukebox on the wall that was playing some twangy blues guitar solo from whatever song the patrons had put on and a bar shoved in the center of the barn. There was a bartender standing oddly stiff behind it, already staring at me as soon as I walked in with a wide smile on his old weathered face.

Besides the two of us there was one man sitting at the bar, a few girls in a booth in back and a man playing pool by himself in back. I took a seat at the bar right across from where the tender was standing. He looked over at me, moving just his neck and not his whole body. I quickly decided to just order a beer and leave. I was feeling very uncomfortable.

“What’ll it be?” He asked.

“Just a bottle of beer, whatever’s cold. I’m not picky.”

He shook his head and turned to the fridge in back almost mechanically. He slapped a bottle of Budweiser in front of me and said “on the house.” I looked at him quizzically. This place had to be hurting for money, I didn’t think they could even afford to give away a free beer.

“You sure?”

He just nodded his head and turned around talking to the other man at the bar. They both looked over at me. Like a wolf the man looked over at me and stood up quickly. I stood my ground and didn't book it for the front door... like I had wanted to. The second a wolf could smell fear, you were already dead. He sat down next to me.

“You got time for a story, friend?”

"I really should be going soon." I responded taking my last sip of beer. The man held up two fingers and two shot glasses were filled with whiskey and slid in front of us.

"This one's on me. Now you have to listen, you don't want to be rude." I looked at the alcohol in front of me. He picked up his shot glass and held it in front of me, waiting for me to cheers with him. "Take the shot, friend."

Fuck it. One shot wasn't going to kill me. Plus the man was a little smaller and looked frail. If he wanted to attack me I was almost positive that I could take him. I was no stranger to a fight. Although I hadn't been in a good scrap in years. I cheers him and took the shot. It burned going down.

"You're in the game now, friend." He held up two more fingers and two more shots were slid in front of us.

"No thanks, I have a long drive and really need to take off." I started to stand up and he put his hand on my arm.

I looked down and grimaced. The skin was rotted and decaying, like the man had been dead for years but someone forgot to tell him. I shot out of the chair, pushing his hand from my arm. He took off his hood and his face matched. The skin was rotted and I could actually see his jaw bone on one side. He laughed.

"That... thats one hell of a Halloween costume." I stuttered.

"That won't do you any good here." He gestured to the beer bottled I was clutching in my hand. I hadn't even realized that I grabbed it. "Sit down. Let me tell you my story."

"Fuck this." I turned around to sprint to my car, I hadn't noticed that the bar had been filled behind me. I scanned the room, they all stood, staring at me. Like my new friend, they too were all rotting.

I sat back down, I had absolutely no idea what to do or how to handle this. Defeated, I sat down, took my second shot and waited to hear what the man had to say. He laughed a laugh that sounded like he had smoked a carton of cigarettes a day since he was 12. He sat back down and took his shot. Two more were lined up, I was starting to sense a pattern.

"Name's Jon, Jon Krester. As you can probably see... I am dead, well, maybe dead isn't the word, but I have been here for a long, long time." He held up his glass.

I, seeing as there was a great chance I was about to be murdered, raised mine as well and drank. If I was going to die, may as well be drunk. Wasn't everyday you get drink with a dead man.

"I'm losing my fucking mind, huh? Is this a joke?" I said, this time holding up my fingers ordering two more. Jon drummed on the bar and laughed again.

"I like you! Out of all the others..." he signaled to all the dead men behind me, "you may actually be my favorite."

We took the shots. I had some sort of tolerance but I was hungover and had an empty stomach. I was feeling it.

"See, here's the deal kid. A long time ago, back when I was fully alive, I used to own this here establishment. I didn't much care for the money, I was a collector of stories and trinkets. That was my vice. If a man came through and wanted to drink but had no coin that was alright by me. As long as he had something to offer, weather it be something interesting or even a intriguing story." Another round of shots.

"I don't have much to offer in that department, Jon but I do have money." I said.

"No, no, no, it's far to late for that. At least for me. See one Halloween night, the bar was particularly dead... no pun intended. A man strolled in, a man I had seen before many times, he always brought me in something cool. He leaned over the bar he said to me, 'Jon, what if I told you that you could live on in this bar forever, collecting tales and trinkets until the end of time?' Naturally I needed whatever it was he was offering... I was a stupid man back then." Another round of shots. I was tipsy and on the fine line of being drunk.

"This is unbelievable." I pulled the phone out of my pocket. You guessed it, no service. Jon grabbed the phone and put it on the bar top.

"He reached in his bag and in his hand he held up a golden bottle. In this bottle was a never ending supply of whiskey... a special whiskey. When I drink it, I gain the life of the person drinking with me." He nodded at me, I looked at the shot glass. "Way too late to turn back now. The only way you get to walk out of this bar, friend, is by outdrinking me." He slammed back the shot.

"You've got to be shitting me. Come on, how do I outdrink a dead man? No offense but it seems like you have sort of an unfair advantage." I took my shot, if I was already in the game, I guess I would try and win.

"Have you not been listening? I am not dead. I am immortal... well so far at least." Another shot.

"So, all I have to do is outdrink you, a man who has built up a 200 year tolerance to booze? Welp, good thing I've been in a depressive slump these past 8 months." I laughed and took the shot and ordered another taking it down too.

"That's the spirit! What's your name? We have a long night ahead of us."

"Nick." I took another shot, the more drunk I became, the less fearful I was. Liquid courage.

As the night went on and the shots kept on flowing, Jon continued to tell me about all the men he had bested over the years. I knew I should be terrified I knew I should be begging for my life. However, the more I drank of the whiskey, the less I seemed to care about anything at all. We traded stories about drunken benders and debauchery.

The more I talked to Jon, the more I forgot that he was trying to steal my life and would almost more than likely be the cause of my death. My only saving grace was that I was literally drinking for my life. Somewhere between arm wrestling and that game.... where you stab between each others fingers.... you know what I'm taking about, I had enough. I hopped over the bar, grabbed the bottle of whiskey and started chugging it.

"No! You fucking idiot!" Jon yelled. He jumped over the bar and hit me harder than I had ever been hit in my entire life. Even with a half gallon of whiskey in my system it hurt. I fell to the ground and wiped the blood from my nose. I was slow to recover. "Why did you have to go and do that? I was actually enjoying this." he growled and kicked me in the stomach.

I tried to stand up but a boot came down colliding with my face. I was out cold. I had no idea how long I was asleep for but I awoke to the sound of my phone ringing next to me. I opened my eyes, I was lying on my side, a line of puke in front of me. I stood up rubbing my head. My nose was swollen and there was a cut under my right eye.

The bar was... actually not a bar at all anymore. It was just a big empty barn. My head was spinning and I hunched over and threw up again. Putting the phone to my ear Matt was on the other line.

"How's the traffic, you almost here?"

"What... what fucking time is it?" I asked, more confused than I had ever been in my entire life.

"Are you drunk? You can't be serious... you texted me a fucking hour ago about pulling off for food." He yelled.

"No, I'm... I'm not, I'm on my way I was just zoning out. I'll call you back."

I sprinted out of the barn. The dirt road was just a vacant as it was when I had walked in. My car was the only car in the middle of the road. I got in and turned it on, taking a deep breath. Having no doubt in my mind that what just happened was real. I looked on my passengers seat, there was a bar tab receipt.

"Ya got balls, kid. In the years I have been doing this no one has ever went for the bottle. You win this round but I promise you this... I will see you again. Until next time. Jon."

I looked in my rear view mirror and he was staring right back at me. When I turned around, he was gone. I skidded away from the barn leaving dirt and dust behind. It was going to be one hell of a Halloween night.

#reddit #nosleep #scary #story

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multifandomimaginethings · 7 years

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“Halloween” Stiles Stilinski Imagine

“Ugh why did they have to make her hair so complicated.” You whine as you keep pausing and unpausing the hair tutorial playing on your computer.

“Just make sure it looks perfect, we need to make these outfits look legit.” The voice replies through the phone speaker.

“Stiles, your lucky I’m even doing this, do not test me.” You warn.

“I’m just saying this has to be the best Halloween ever and because you love me and would- Ok I can sense your death stare through the phone I’m going to stop talking.” He rushes out, god this boy talks fast.

“Good idea.” You laugh.

“So your coming to my shmmmhshsh?” You say as you place a bobby pin between your teeth as you try to roll the plait in circles.

“I got none of that.” Stiles stated and you groan and reluctantly take the pin out of your mouth and let your hair drop.

“I said, your coming to my house at eight right?” You ask.

“Oh yeah eight, yep.” He confirms.

“Ok babe I’m gonna go.” You say. “Ok, I’m serious I can not wait I have been counting down the days and you are going to look so-” He rambles. “Stiles!” You laugh. “Yeah?” “I love you and goodbye.” You giggle. “I love you too but-” You hang up on him and shake your head as you continue to try and get your hair to stay in position. Oh god how did I let myself get talked into this.

“Ok I have an idea what we can go as!” Stiles says excitedly as he types quickly into google imagines.

“Oh god what?” You ask. “Batman and Robin! Obviously I would be Batman-”

“Your kidding right? First off I am not going as a dude and secondly and most importantly I am not going as a side kick! I’m way above that babe.” You argue flopping down on his bed. “You’ve got a point, ok what about..” He says deep in thought as he sits down next to me. “I know! Han Solo and Princess Leia, you can wear that really hot gold bikini- ow!” He yells as you smack him around the head.

“Alright I deserved that.” He admits rubbing his head.

“Ok what about, oh I know!” He says then his eyes widen as a light bulb goes off.

He rushes over to his closet and fumbles around with his back to me. He turns around with a Darth Vader mask on. “Luke I am your father.” He says in a deep voice causing me to giggle. “That’s cute but no.” You say seriously. He quickly rips off the mask chucking it somewhere, “Luke, your father I am?” He says desperately. “You are not going as Yoda, Stiles.” I giggle and he moans in annoyance and flops down next to me.

He keeps listing ideas off and I continue to say no as I fall back onto the bed and stare up at the ceiling declining all of them. “Ok what about Luke Skywalker and Princess Leia?” He asks as I feel the bed dip and I feel his body heat as he lies down next to me. “No, they’re brother and sister and we are dating, true they didn’t know they were twins when they kissed but it’s still really weird and I could not bring myself to kiss you in those costumes.” You sigh.

You feel Stiles turn his body on his side to face you and you glance over to see him smiling at you. “What?” You ask turning to face him. “Nothing it’s just your so hot when you talk nerd to me.” He smirks. You giggle and lean over gently placing a kiss on his mouth. You shuffle over so your resting your head on his chest and he happily snakes his arm around you bringing your leg over his so your bodies become entangled.

“You created this nerd.” You joke as you gently trace the lines of his plaid shirt. “I know.” He says smugly.

“Look can’t we just, go as Mario and Princess Peach or something?” You ask biting your lip to resist from smiling to spoil the joke. You look up to see him death staring you. “Are you freaking joking? Please tell me your joking or I swear-” “Relax babe, I was kidding.” You laugh as he rolls his eyes and lets his head rest back on the pillow.

“Ok I will go as Princess Leia but-” You say giving him a pointed look as his eyes light up. “Only if I wear the white dress.” You say and he grins. “Deal babe.” He smirks bringing your head up for another kiss.

You sigh adjusting your hair one more time as you look in the mirror. Yep definitely needs another coat of hairspray. You grab the can and apply as much as you can before your eyes start to water. You spin around in the mirror picking at the white material, you stumble around and groan. You could barely walk in these ridiculously high boots.

You hear the doorbell ring and you grin. You slowly make your way down the stairs gripping onto the railing. You call out a good bye to your parents and you swing open the door and immediately let out a snort of laughter at Stiles. God he was a dork. His eyes widen at the sight of you and his jaw literally drops.

“Holy shit you look- I mean you look- like really hot.” He admits causing you to go a crimson red. “That was definitely not in the movie.” He says referring to the slit in your dress exposing your skin right up to your middle left thigh leaving your knee high boot on display. “I know I’m sorry, but this was the only one they had-” “Are you kidding, do not apologize you look amazing.” He breathes.

“Why thank you Mr Solo, you don’t look to bad yourself.” You smirk. “Your majesty.” He bows jokingly. “Would such a beautiful princess like yourself do me the honor of escorting me around the streets as we knock on doors for candy?” He asks extending his arm for you to loop your arm through.

“Well since Chewbaccas not here I guess you’ll have to do.” You tease sliding your arm through his as you walk out of your front yard. “Ah yes Chewie my faithful companion…” He begins causing you to giggle.

You had been out for an hour now and so far it had been way more fun than expected. Even though most of the people out where like half your age you and Stiles didn’t mind. He kept asking you if you wanted to bail and head to Lydia’s annual Halloween party but you insisted you didn’t care, you would rather watch Stiles act like an adorable child than be pressed against sweaty bodies for hours.

“Stiles!” You say pulling on his sleeve. “What.” He says looking back at where you were staring. Once he spots what you were indicating, you both look at each other smirking and nod together. “He’s home alone, Melissa is out on a shift and he told me he was going to study instead of going to the party.” Stiles adds as you both speed walk towards Scott’s house.

You grab his hand in yours and ring the door bell rocking on the balls of your feet as you hear his footsteps running down the stairs.

“I’m sorry I’m out of-”

“Trick or Treat!” You and Stiles both scream causing him to jump.

“Jesus Christ, *yn*, stiles? What the hell are you guys doing?” He asks his face full of pure confusion. “It’s Halloween.” Stiles states. “Duh.” You add.

“Yeah but why aren’t you at Lydia’s party, oh yeah ok just.. come on in.” He continues as Stiles leads you past Scott as he continues to ramble.

“We went trick or treating.” Stiles grins stopping once he’s insider and swiveling around. “Thoughts?” He asks gesturing at our costumes.

“Uh, good….” Scott trails off.

“You don’t know who we are do you?” Stiles questions.

“Yeah of course I do! Uh you guys are from um Star… Trek?” He winces and I internally cringe. Bad mistake. “Star Trek, S-star Trek.” Stiles says letting out a loud harsh laugh.

“Oh god here we go.” You mumble rubbing your temples.

“It’s Star Wars man! Oh my god how many have I told you to watch those movies! They are pure freaking art Scott! It’s literally a blessing to sit and watch those movies! Jesus what’s next, you’ll be telling me Anakin and Luke are brothers? Or the correct chronological order is movies one, two, three, four, five, six and not four, five, six, one, two, three?” He says forcing out another bound of stressful laughs.

“Why wouldn’t it be one, two, three, four, five, six?” Scott asks glancing at me. Oh those adorable brown eyes aren’t going to save you this time Scotty.

“Oh god it hurts, it physically hurts.” Stiles says dramatically as he clutches at his heart.

“Stiles don’t you think your being a tiny bit over dramatic, I mean they’re just some stupid movies.” Scott says attempting to lighten the mood.

“Oh you’ve really done it now Scotty.” I sigh shaking my head as I watch Stiles turn slowly to Scott. “S-stupid movies? Stupid movies! That’s funny Scott, hilarious.” He says. “Quick question, will it still be as funny after I beat you over the head with this a couple hundred times?” Stiles asks as he pulls out his fake light saber. Oh god.

Stiles begins to run at Scott and I shove myself infront of him. “Stop!” You yell. You were about to get up both of them when an idea came to you. Probably your best one yet. One that definitely benefited you.

“I have an idea how we can settle this.” You smirk.

“Wait so what are we doing again?” Scott asks as he watches you move the coffee table out of the way. “Simple. You and Stiles are going to have a duel.” I say grabbing Stiles’s light saber from him and mine out of its holder on my hip. “Now who wants-” “I shots blue.” Stiles calls snatching it out of my hand causing me to roll my eyes.

“Ok,” I say as I sit down on the couch, a perfect seat to witness the entertainment. “If Scott wins he gets all the candy we collected tonight.” I say pointing out our two over flowing bags as they both stand on either sides of the carpet. “What do I get if I win?” Stiles asks. “Me.” You smirk sending him a playful wink. I watch him as the grip on his light saber tightens, now he had something to fight for. “How do you determine who wins?” Scott asks. “When the other one surrenders.” You say in a mock evil tone drumming your fingers together, Stiles had rubbed off on you way too much.

“And remember Scott no wolf powers.” You warn and he sighs and nods.

“Ok, let the duel begin!” You yell.

For a while both fidgeted, slowly edging towards eachother. Stiles was the first to launch at Scott, out of nowhere he wacks him on the arm. And then chaos ins-sued. Both boys were stumbling around just barely missing things, it was a miracle nothing was broken. Every now and then one would get a good wack in but it was pretty evenly matched. And it was the most entertaining thing you had ever seen. You were in complete stitches as you watched the two idiots dodge each other and fumble around, of course you were filming all of it.

Eventually you noticed Stiles beginning to tire, and you knew Scott was always going to win. You really didn’t want him to, even though it was all in good fun you knew Stiles always felt so inadequate compared to Scott like ‘the sidekick’. You’d tried convincing him that he was the brains and was like the glue holding everyone together but he had trouble believing it. He needed to win this, and the only way that was going to happen was with your help.

You watch as the boys begin to walk towards you, Scott walking backwards with his back to you. Ever so slightly you subtly stick your boot covered foot behind his ankles and as he took a step he tripped over and landed on his back. Stiles yells in triumph as he knocks his light saber out of his hands and points his own at Scott’s face. “I surrender!” Scott laughs putting his hands up.

You giggle as you watch Stiles face light up in pure joy, how is it possible to be so hot and cute at the same time? You march up to him and grab his face roughly kissing him. You hear his light saber drop to the ground, as he begins to react wrapping his arms around you.

You pull away breathless and he eventually opens his eyes in shock.

“What was that for?” He asks in confusion.

“Well my daring rescuer had to be rewarded.” You smirk and his face lit up in a goofy smile.

“I did what I had to do Princess.” He jokes causing you to giggle.

“Oh Han, kiss me, please kiss me!” You fake gasp dramatically placing your hand on your forehead like in the movies. “With pleasure.” He smirks pulling you closer to him and smashing his lips to yours. You run your hands through his hair as you deepen the kiss, ignoring Scott’s awkward cough.

“Well I’m going to go and get some water.” He mumbles.

You moan lightly as Stiles squeezes your sides gently, as he bites down on your lower lip as you get more and more into the kiss.

“Oh my god you guys are still making out seriously! No get out! Stiles go fulfill your weird Star Wars kink, freaking fantasy shit somewhere else!” You hear Scott groan. Stiles breaks away from the kiss only to scoop you up bridal style causing you to squeal.

“Of course Scott, we’ll just vacate to your front porch and continue to make out there.” He says sending you a wink before carrying you towards the door, the candy and light sabers forgotten. “That’s not what I meant can’t you guys just- And your making out again.” He sighs as he stops at his front door to see Stiles seated on his deck chair with you on his lap kissing.

“Alright I give up, happy Halloween you freaks.” He sighs shutting the door behind him.

Stiles pulls away from your mouth and you whine in annoyance trying to pull his head back down again. “You know I was thinking for next year we could dress up as-”

“Oh my god shut up and kiss me you dork.” You giggle cutting him off and pressing your lips to his again.

Best. Halloween. Ever.

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