#brian may x reader fluff

[imeternallylove]

Don't grow up, it's a trap - Brian May; Prologue

Pairing: Brian May x Reader

Warning: none

Word: approx 1.3k

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Chapters index

prologue | part one | part two | part three | part four | part five | part six | part seven | part eight | part night | part ten | epilogue

If he knew he had grown up this way.

Perhaps it was preferable to be a youngster who knew nothing except eating, playing, and napping.

People beings grow up in many civilizations. Some are born under a lucky star and are unaware that there is a demon named afflictive and wounded existing in this universe. However, certain persons who were raised. No, it should be called 'lived on their own' 一will have a higher level of immunity than others.

That does not imply their goodness. But it was an essential weapon for survival when facing tough times; it was intended just for anybody like him who lived below the poverty line. It kept on threatening his life, shattering every piece of his bone and cruelly smashing them to the ground. Despite being awake, it seemed like a terror nightmare that he couldn't wake up from.

'Brian May' is an uncommon boy. However, it isn't actually noteworthy. It sounds tricky, doesn't it? But that was his life after his parents' disappearance due to debt, while the whole town was during the world war.

The boy recalled the hectic circumstances at home throughout that extended period of time, and how they remained to be that way, over and over. He nearly lost sight of the definition of happiness and the proper way to smile or laugh.

Delicious food was once the thing on each evening dinner table, but that is starting to change. There were just grilled potatoes obtainable lately, and the soup was given as a side dish to enhance the flavour of the tasteless potatoes that had to be consumed all in one bowl, for the whole family.

He heard his parents arguing constantly, and headphones ended up being his best buddy by default. However, that is not nearly as unpleasant as hearing the creditors' relentless pounding on the door, who appear prepared to burst in at any moment if they are serious about it.

Only in the closet could sixteen-year-old Brian give a hug to his younger sister. With her head pressed against his chest, he protected her even though he was conscious that he wouldn't be able to stop the door from breaking in. After their parents made the decision to disappear without a trace since they had creditors pursuing them. From that moment on, Brian's biggest duty towards his younger sister has been to be strong for her, even when it meant leaving only tears on her cheeks.

Yes, he understands that his parents weren't abandoning him or his younger sister. Nevertheless, it seems that things happened this way because they had to leave this environment. Because his parents are unaware of how creditors would make demands for money if they were there. Which was probably worse than the hammering at the house door, which scared the hell out of him and his sister and made them afraid to leave.

A sixteen-year-old boy whose sole pursuits in life are music and education. To continue living his realities, he had to give go of his fantasies. Give up on the band, put the handmade guitar in the cupboard, and start working a part-time job after school.

For a young boy who had never experienced hardship before, he was unsure about what to do with the remaining money and where it would take him and his sister. However, it was lucky that the uncle next door, who was a neighbour, constantly prepared meals for him. And thus, day by day, he and his sister lived. 'Betty May' is still quite young. Brian does not want his younger sister to have to worry about this. But he had no idea what to do. Because additional money is insufficient, he will soon have to pay tuition. He is unlikely to be able to provide for himself and his younger sister financially. However, requesting a loan from a neighbour, like Uncle David, would be excessive.

Brian sensed he was in trouble. However, seeking assistance from others should be done in moderation.

Humans have a tendency to do dumb things when they feel hopeless. Yes, Brian feels this is the case. When he sat looking at the square screen with his hands on the keyboard in a computer lesson, his friend from the computer science department was overjoyed to show him it was a prototype. He looked like he suffered from a lack of sleep while learning how to use with.

The sixteen-year-old boy stared at it for a moment before writing the tragic tales of his own life on a blank page, and thanks to his highest grade at Imperial College, he had the kind privilege of receiving a tiny article published in the newspapers for the entire city of London, which has at least three million readers per day.

Brian couldn't recall what he had written, and he didn't want to. It might be filled with disappointment in life, what he was excellent at, or the whole agony that has been suppressed in his heart. Asking for help in vain and not knowing whether anyone will respond with a boy who has no idea who they are and no interest in life.

But it wasn't too horrible. When God told him to believe in, 'the miracles' one more time.

Not long afterward, the professor contacted him to schedule an appointment. He said that someone had seen his letter in the newspapers and offered to help with schooling and monthly expenditures, even if it was a small amount. So he asked Brian if he still needed lend a hand in helping, because here was his opportunity.

The boy was dumbfounded by what he had heard. He was thinking about hitting himself in the face once to make sure he wasn't hallucinating. Is it truly feasible for somebody to reach out and support kids who do not know who they are? Brian sat calmly for quite some time, and his professor was silent, indicating that Brian, his student, wanted to concentrate.

Brian was still half believing and half unbelieving. It wasn't until he received a cheque with credit to cash at the bank, along with a huge shopping bag with a pair of black and light brown suit-and-tie sets and black leather shoes. He noticed a pair of freshly released flower pattern shift dresses for ladies in other bags, as well as maroon Mary-Jane heels, with a short message and charming calligraphy expressing delight in him and Betty, which the tall boy could guess was from whom.

The boy finally discovered the world wasn't all devils around him. Who were these people? How did the benefactors who saved his and his sister's lives appear? The boy was confident that they were angels. The boy vividly recalls the emotion of the first moment; even the corners of his eyes turned blazing red and his younger sister had to hold and soothe him.

Brian returned to see his professor the next day, this time wearing a new pair of gleaming black leather shoes. After staying up all night wondering, 'Why are the benefactors so kind?', he was keen to find out who the wonderful person was who rescued him and his sister from the demon hordes. Why did they decide to help? Because even if the entire world is full of lack of thoroughness, and depth of character and he is much too young to confront it, that person seems not to be concerned whether the message he has written is a falsehood or real.

As his professor consultant was done with some papers, he smiled softly as he informed his student. "Her name is Y/N..."

Brian fails to control himself; he gasps suddenly with his mouth open and barely knows how to breathe, just because he eventually discovered their name, noㅡ her name.

"Miss Y/L/N. Y/N Y/L/N."

oh hi

[noralia20]

Unsaid... (Brian May)

Words count : 12k

Sum up : You never really talked about your family. But after a traggic event, everything comes back to you and you have no choice but to explode and tell your lover.

London, 1979. The city bustled with energy and a sense of renewal, the air crisp with the promise of winter. The streets were adorned with twinkling lights, shop windows displaying festive cheer, and a gentle snowfall added a touch of magic to the scene. Despite the chill, your heart was warm, brimming with a joy that surpassed anything you had ever known.

You had been dating Brian May, the iconic guitarist of Queen, for the past six years. It felt surreal sometimes, but it was your reality—a beautiful one at that. Brian was the love of your life, a beacon of light in your otherwise tumultuous past. Your relationship was a sanctuary, a place where love, trust, and mutual respect flourished. You shared everything with him, your dreams, your fears, your daily musings. Well, almost everything.

There was one part of your life that remained untouched by Brian's understanding gaze—your past. It was a shadowy place, filled with hurt and memories you had no desire to revisit. You had never spoken of it, and somehow, Brian knew not to pry. He respected your boundaries, and for that, you loved him even more.

This winter was special. Queen had just released "Don't Stop Me Now," a song that quickly climbed the charts and became a new anthem for many. The boys were ecstatic, their hard work paying off in spades. The success called for a celebration, a moment to bask in their achievement and let loose. For once, Brian wasn't consumed by tours, recording sessions, or interviews. He was taking a well-deserved break, choosing to spend his time with friends, family, and most importantly, you.

To celebrate the success of 'Don't Stop Me Now', you all decided to gather at Fred's house for a relaxed evening. The prospect filled you with happiness, especially since it meant spending time with Veronica and Dominique. Perhaps Mary would be there too, given her amicable terms with Freddie. As you stood in front of the mirror, attempting to tame your hair, Brian waited patiently for you, ready to head out.

Winter always held a bittersweet place in your heart. While it brought the joy of the holidays and moments like these with friends, it also reminded you of colder times spent alongside your family. One particular night stood out, etched in your memory like a scar that hadn't quite healed.

You remembered the biting chill creeping through the cracks of the walls, the frost painting intricate patterns on the windowpanes. It was a night filled with tension, the kind that freezes the air and stills the breath. Your family, wrapped in their own turmoil, seemed distant and unreachable. That night, words were left unspoken, wounds left unattended, and you found yourself retreating into a cocoon of solitude, seeking warmth where there was little to be found.

As you adjusted your hair in the mirror, a pang of longing mixed with apprehension washed over you. Winter had a way of stirring up buried emotions, reminding you of what you had left behind and what you had chosen to keep hidden. Yet, in Brian's reassuring presence and the anticipation of a cozy gathering at Fred's, there was a glimmer of hope, a chance to thaw the icy memories that still haunted you.

With a deep breath, you turned away from the mirror, meeting Brian's gaze with a soft smile. He reached out, his hand finding yours, a silent understanding passing between you. Tonight, amidst the warmth of friends and the glow of shared success, you hoped to forge new memories that would overshadow the chill of winters past.

"Hey, ready to go?" Brian asked softly, his smile revealing those endearing little fangs you had come to love. When you first met, he had been insecure about them, but over time, you helped him learn to embrace and accept every part of himself.

You took a few steps closer, leaning up to plant a kiss on his cheek, a gesture that required a bit of effort given his towering height of 1.87 meters. "As always. Let's go before Fred scolds us and we never hear the end of it," you teased lightly.

Brian chuckled quietly, knowing all too well the playful antics of his friend Fred. With a gentle squeeze of your hand, he led the way out the door, the promise of a warm gathering and cherished company awaiting you both at Fred's house.

During the drive, Brian was enthusiastically explaining the intricate process of creating music. His eyes sparkled with passion as he spoke, and you couldn't help but feel an overwhelming sense of pride for him. Yet, despite your efforts to stay engaged, your mind kept wandering, and then a flashback hit you like a truck.

"Luke, you can't just live off this!" The living room was filled with screams and shouts, a cacophony of frustration and desperation echoing through the small space. It was a cold February night, the kind that seeped into your bones and stayed there. The flickering candlelight cast long, dancing shadows on the walls, turning the scene into a surreal, almost dreamlike tableau.

Your throat burned from the relentless screaming and arguing, the words spilling out like an unstoppable torrent. This wasn't what you had envisioned when you and your brother escaped, hoping for a new life. The promise of a fresh start had seemed so tantalizingly close, yet here you were, caught in the same cycle of conflict.

"You don't understand, Y/N! It's only the beginning. We can make really good money," Luke pleaded, desperation lacing his voice as he stepped into the living room. But you were too blinded by anger to hear the hope in his words, too consumed by your own frustration to recognize his struggle.

"Oh, now I don’t understand? What I do understand is that you just dropped out of university, sold my car, and all of that for what? To buy a stupid guitar because Mr. Luke is in a band now," you mocked, your voice dripping with sarcasm. Luke's face flushed with frustration, his jaw tightening as he struggled to keep his composure.

"Where’s this going, Luke?" you continued, your tone sharp and unyielding. He opened his mouth to respond, but you cut him off. "Let me tell you where this is going. Nowhere. Right into the wall. This… music isn’t bringing you anywhere."

Luke’s fists clenched at his sides, the tension radiating from him as he listened to your harsh words. His eyes flashed with a mix of anger and helplessness, but you were too consumed by your own fury to notice.

"This isn’t what I had pictured when I told you we should run away from the house," you pressed on, your voice trembling with emotion. "We agreed that we would work through it together."

Luke seemed to shrink before you, his shoulders sagging under the weight of your accusations. "And we are—" he began, but you cut him off again.

"No, we're not," you snapped. "What you just did was a selfish move, Luke. It was about you and not us. If it was about us, you wouldn’t have thrown your studies away."

He looked utterly defeated, the spark of hope that had fueled his dreams now dimmed by your relentless onslaught.

"And have you ever cared about what I wanted?" he mumbled from behind you, his voice barely audible but loaded with emotion.

Those words sent you over the edge. Without thinking, you turned around and struck him across the face. Luke stumbled back, his hand flying to his cheek in disbelief. The shock in his eyes mirrored the immediate regret that washed over you.

"Luke, I'm so sor—"

"You're just like Dad," he interrupted, his voice cold and final. The words cut deeper than any physical blow. Grabbing his bag and guitar, he shoved past you.

"Luke, wait!" you cried, desperation seeping into your voice. But he was already heading for the main door.

You ran after him, ignoring the icy bite of the pavement beneath your bare feet. The cold air stung your lungs, but all you could think about was stopping him. Luke was already on his bike, pedaling furiously down the alley.

"No, no, no!" you screamed, pushing yourself to run faster. But he was too quick. As he turned onto the main street, you tripped, falling hard onto the cold ground. Pain shot through your knees and palms, but you barely noticed. Your eyes were locked on Luke as he continued to roll away without looking back.

You lay there, helpless and heartbroken, watching him disappear into the distance. The realization of what you'd done settled over you like a heavy blanket, suffocating and inescapable. Tears blurred your vision as you begged him to stay, your voice hoarse and desperate.

“Y/N... Y/N?” Brian's soothing, soft voice called you back to reality. You blinked, momentarily disoriented, and turned your head to the side. Brian was looking at you with concern from the driver’s seat, the glow of the red light casting a soft hue across his face.

“O-Oh, sorry. What were you saying?” you asked, your voice still a bit shaky as you tried to reorient yourself to the present.

Brian studied you carefully, his eyes searching yours for any sign of what had been troubling you. He repeated himself, speaking slowly and deliberately, “I was saying: I hope the song will work out.”

You forced a smile, pushing the dark memories back into the recesses of your mind. “Of course it will. You guys are legends. I’ve heard the song multiple times, and I’m sure it’ll be timeless.”

Brian smiled at your answer, but the uncertainty in his eyes lingered. He could sense something was off, though he chose not to press the issue. Instead, he reached over and gave your hand a reassuring squeeze.

Brian knew it happened quite often during this time of the year. You seemed always absent, a part of you perpetually searching for something or someone to appear. When you walked the streets, your eyes would scan the crowds reflexively, as if expecting a familiar face to emerge from the sea of strangers. At shows, backstage, you'd often find yourself studying the audience, your gaze lingering on each person as if waiting for one specific figure to materialize.

There were nights when Brian would find you awake, staring out the living room window with a cold cup of tea forgotten in your hands. Your eyes would wander, filled with a quiet yearning that spoke of an absence you couldn’t quite place. It was as if your very soul was looking, longing for something or someone that wasn’t there.

Brian had noticed this pattern over the years. As winter set in, your demeanor would change, and you became more introspective, more distant. But he never pressed you about it, respecting the boundaries you had set. He understood that there was a part of your past you weren't ready to share, a shadow that came alive with the cold.

He tried to offer comfort in small ways—through a gentle touch, a comforting word, or just being there when you needed him. He wanted to be your anchor, your safe harbor during these turbulent times. And he hoped that one day, you would feel ready to share that hidden part of yourself with him.

As winter melted into spring, Brian watched the change in you. The somber cloud that hung over you during the colder months would lift, and the vibrant, joyful person he loved would reemerge. Life would go on as always, the shadows of the past retreating once more into the background.

Brian finally parked the car in front of Freddie’s house. As you reached for the door handle, his warm hand and long fingers gently stopped you. Confusion flickered across your face as you turned to look at him, only to see a sight you hated: worry etched into his expression. You despised causing concern, especially for someone as dear to your heart as Brian. And then he asked the question that made your heart squeeze even tighter.

"Are you okay?" His voice was gentle, his concern palpable.

The simplicity of those words carried a weight you struggled to bear. Of course, you should be okay. Why wouldn't you be? Because you hadn’t seen your brother in seven years? Because he seemed to despise you, echoing the rift with the rest of your family? Because, in a way, you felt like an orphan now? But no, you couldn’t burden Brian with those thoughts. He deserved your strength, not your vulnerabilities.

You forced a small smile, hoping it would reassure him. "Yes, I'm fine. Don't worry," you replied, the words tasting bitter on your tongue. "The weather tires me lately," you added as an excuse, hoping to deflect his concern.

Brian took a moment to study you with his hazel eyes, his gaze lingering on your face as you attempted to reach for the door handle again. The concern in his expression was evident, and it made your breath catch in your throat. You knew he could sense when something was amiss, and the thought of burdening him with your inner turmoil weighed heavily on you.

"But... would you tell me if you weren't?" he asked quietly, his voice gentle but tinged with worry.

The question hung in the air, heavy with unspoken implications. Truth be told, you knew you wouldn't tell him. Not because you didn't trust him—Brian was indeed the person you trusted most—but because you couldn't bear to see the hurt and helplessness in his eyes. It was easier to pretend everything was fine, to shield him from your own pain.

"Of course I would," you replied softly, mustering a smile that felt brittle on your lips. "You're the person I trust most."

It wasn't a complete lie. You did trust Brian with your heart, but there were depths within you that even he hadn't fully explored. There were wounds you carried silently, scars from a past that still haunted you. And while Brian had seen glimpses of your struggles, you couldn't bring yourself to burden him with the full weight of your pain.

"Let's go?" you suggested, hoping to shift the focus away from the tension that hung between you.

Brian nodded slowly, releasing your hand with a reluctant squeeze. His eyes held a mix of understanding and lingering concern, but he respected your choice not to delve deeper. Together, you walked towards Freddie’s house, the soft glow of warmth and laughter beckoning from within.

You looked at Brian as he paused at the door, a loving smile spreading across his face before he rang the bell. As you stood beside him, he draped an arm around your waist, drawing you close with a gentle pull. Your heart fluttered at his touch, and you couldn't help but suppress a giddy smile as you looked up at him.

Brian returned your gaze with warmth and affection, his hazel eyes sparkling. Leaning in, he kissed you sweetly, the moment filled with tenderness and a shared intimacy. Just as the kiss deepened, the door swung open, revealing a grinning Freddie.

You both pulled apart abruptly, caught in a moment that felt both exhilarating and slightly embarrassing. Freddie’s teasing raised eyebrow only added to the amusement of the situation. "Well, hello to you too, darlings," Freddie greeted with a mischievous twinkle in his eye, clearly enjoying the sight before him.

You felt your cheeks warm with a blush, feeling momentarily like a teenager caught in a secret moment. Quickly regaining your composure, you took a step forward and greeted Freddie properly. "Hello, Freddie," you said with a smile, trying to ignore the lingering warmth of Brian's touch and the playful glint in Freddie's eyes.

Freddie hugged you back warmly, his voice low as he whispered teasingly in your ear. "If you two really can't keep your hands off each other, remember I have a spare room upstairs. Just don't be too loud for the kids."

Your eyes widened in surprise, and your cheeks flushed crimson, a blush that could rival a traffic signal. You turned to Freddie, pretending to be outraged, and playfully hit his arm. "Freddie!" you exclaimed in mock indignation, though the playful grin tugged at your lips.

Brian, standing beside you, looked between you and Freddie with a mixture of confusion and amusement. He chuckled softly, clearly catching on to the good-natured banter between you and Freddie.

"Oh, but you must be freezing! Come on in!" Freddie said warmly, guiding you both inside.

The immediate sounds of laughter greeted your ears, a lively mix of adults and children enjoying themselves. You shrugged off your coat, hanging it neatly by the door before following Freddie towards the living room.

You hadn’t even had a chance to introduce yourself properly before a small figure came running over to hug your legs. It was Robert, John and Veronica’s lively three-year-old son. Not far behind him toddled Michael, who had just turned one. The sight of their innocent joy brought an immediate smile to your face.

"Hey, bud! It's nice to see you too!" you exclaimed warmly, kneeling down to greet Robert. He squealed with delight and threw his arms around you in a tight hug. You laughed, feeling Brian’s amused gaze on you as he watched the interaction.

Brian joined in the fun, bending down to Robert's level. "Hey, Rob, how's it going?" he asked with a grin.

Robert glanced up at Brian, his face lighting up. "Uncle Fred was ranting that you two were always late," he declared with all the seriousness a three-year-old could muster.

You chuckled at Freddie’s antics, knowing exactly the kind of playful teasing he was capable of. "Robert Deacon! You little traitor," Freddie boomed in a mock deep voice, tickling the boy’s sides playfully.

Robert giggled uncontrollably, squirming in Freddie’s grasp. The room filled with laughter, the playful banter easing any lingering tension.

"You have quite the spy network here, Freddie," you teased, standing up and brushing off your knees. Freddie grinned mischievously. "Always good to have informants," he quipped, earning a playful swat on the arm from Brian.

Together, you and Brian finally made your way over to the group seated on the couches. Mary was already there, chatting animatedly with John and Veronica, who were nestled comfortably with their children nearby. The Deacons were also present, leaving only Dominique and Roger yet to arrive.

"I see we're not the only ones late," Brian remarked, drawing the attention of your friends. They greeted you warmly, and you ushered Veronica to sit back down, considering she was now five months pregnant with baby number three.

In the background, the TV played the news quietly, a mundane backdrop to the lively gathering. John, ever the curious one, leaned forward slightly and asked with a hint of teasing, "What took you guys so long?"

Brian glanced at you with a mischievous glint in his eyes before answering, "Well, Y/N here wasn't satisfied with her hair."

You rolled your eyes playfully. "Says you! You spent an hour in the bathroom taming yours, Mister May," you retorted, your tone teasing and light-hearted.

Laughter rippled through the room at your banter, the familiar sound of friends enjoying each other’s company filling the air. The tension from earlier melted away, replaced by the warmth of shared jokes and affectionate teasing.

Mary leaned forward with a smile, pouring Brian a glass of wine and teasingly adding, "Someone's got to keep up appearances." Brian mockingly feigned offense, raising his hands in mock surrender. "Guilty as charged," he admitted with a grin, earning another round of chuckles from the group.

As you all chatted and caught up, the atmosphere was relaxed and filled with camaraderie. Finally, Roger and Dominique arrived, their presence adding to the lively energy of the gathering. Roger, ever the epitome of cool in his leather jacket and sunglasses, grinned as he greeted everyone.

Roger's casual demeanor earned him a playful scolding from Freddie about their tardiness, to which Roger responded with a nonchalant shrug and a wink.

With everyone now assembled, the dynamics of the group fell into place seamlessly. Roger and Freddie bantered back and forth, their teasing laced with fondness and familiarity. Brian played the role of the calm mediator, injecting humor when needed to diffuse any escalating jokes. John observed the interactions with a quiet amusement, occasionally chiming in with his own dry wit.

Amidst the cheerful chaos, Dominique caught your eye and gestured discreetly towards the garden. Understanding her silent invitation, you quietly excused yourself along with Mary, Veronica, and Dominique, slipping out of the lively room and into the calm of the garden.

Outside, the air was crisp and cool, a refreshing contrast to the warmth of the crowded room. You found a secluded corner of the garden, away from prying eyes and eavesdropping ears. Surrounded by the soft glow of garden lights, you exchanged knowing glances with the other women.

In the peaceful solitude of the garden, surrounded by the quiet rustling of leaves and the gentle glow of garden lights, the conversation turned to more personal matters. Mary's voice carried genuine concern as she asked, "So, what's on your mind?"

Veronica smiled warmly, her hand tenderly resting on her growing belly as she sighed softly. "I just needed a moment away from the noise," she admitted, her expression softening with a hint of relief. "And to catch up with you all."

Dominique nodded in agreement, her thoughtful gaze scanning the garden as she spoke quietly. "It's good to have these moments," she reflected. "To remind ourselves of what's important."

You felt a surge of gratitude for these women, for their understanding and unwavering support in both the joyful and challenging moments of life. As you exhaled into the chilly night air, you added, "I think it's important for the boys. They're constantly together. But they also have us, and we're all in this together, you know."

Mary and Dominique nodded in understanding, their expressions reflecting solidarity and empathy.

Turning her attention to Veronica, Mary gently asked, "So, Veronica, are you feeling alright?" Her eyes drifted to Veronica's hand brushing over her bump.

Veronica's face lit up with a radiant smile. "Never been better," she replied warmly. "I hope it's a girl. John would love a girl, though he would never admit it, frankly."

You couldn't help but smile at the thought. "John would be such a daddy's girl," Dominique added with a chuckle, imagining the stoic John softened by the love of a daughter.

As the conversation continued, you felt a sense of peace settle over you. Here, in the quiet embrace of friendship and shared moments, surrounded by the supportive presence of these remarkable women, you knew that whatever the future held, you would face it together.

Veronica's playful comment about weddings and babies nudged the conversation into more personal territory. She winked at Dominique and you, her warmth and teasing nature filling the air.

"You know Rog, he loves freedom too much for now. But trust me, I'm working on it," Veronica added with a knowing smile.

You chuckled nervously, feeling a slight tension knotting in your stomach. The idea of starting a family had always been a complicated topic for you, especially given your own tumultuous past. What if Brian wanted children one day? Could you give him that future he might dream of, or would your uncertainties hold you both back?

"Me?" you replied, forcing a smile. "You know me, Veronica. I can't even picture what I'm going to eat for dinner. So, I'll just let the future come when it's ready."

Your attempt at humor masked the deeper concerns swirling inside you. Veronica's next question, however, cut through the light-hearted banter and struck a chord.

"But are you ready for the commitment, Y/N? Because I see how Brian looks at you. It's as serious as it was years ago," Veronica pressed gently, her tone thoughtful and sincere.

You glanced over at Brian, who was engrossed in conversation with Roger and John, his expression animated and relaxed. The love and adoration in his eyes were unmistakable, and a warmth spread through your chest at the sight of him.

"I... I think so," you replied softly, your voice wavering slightly. "Brian means everything to me, Veronica. I just... I want to make sure I can give him everything he deserves." Dominique placed a comforting hand on your arm, her gaze filled with understanding. "Y/N, it's okay to have doubts. It's okay to take your time," she reassured you gently.

Mary nodded in agreement, her voice kind but firm. "Just remember, whatever path you choose, we're all here for you. Brian loves you, and that's what matters." Veronica smiled warmly, her eyes reflecting unwavering support. "You'll figure it out, Y/N. And when you do, we'll be here to celebrate with you."

After a while of chatting in the garden, you all returned inside the house, only to find that the boys were no longer in the living room. Instead, the sound of their voices drifted from the kitchen. Curious, you and the other women exchanged glances and quietly followed the sound.

As you approached the kitchen, you could hear snippets of their conversation. "What about Bri, meet the family to finally ask her hand?" Roger's voice came through clearly, causing you all to freeze in place just outside the doorway. Fortunately, none of you had entered the room yet, and it seemed the boys hadn't noticed your arrival either.

"What an ungraceful way to speak of a proposal," Freddie remarked with a hint of mock seriousness. Brian hadn't spoken yet, but his silence spoke volumes despite his usual easygoing nature. You felt a flutter of nervousness mixed with excitement in your chest.

"Come on, Bri, don't be shy. We all know how much you love her. You were already planning on marrying her before you even asked her out," John reassured Brian, his voice gentle and supportive.

Inside, your heart skipped a beat. You leaned in slightly, trying to catch every word, your emotions swirling with a mixture of surprise and joy. It was both overwhelming and heartwarming to hear them discussing such a significant step.

Mary glanced at you with a knowing smile, her eyes filled with understanding and encouragement. Dominique squeezed your hand gently, silently conveying her support.

Veronica leaned closer, her voice barely above a whisper as she murmured, "Looks like our boys are planning something big." You nodded slowly, unable to tear your gaze away from the kitchen door.

As you stood outside the kitchen, listening to Brian's heartfelt words about your relationship and the hurdles he faced, your emotions threatened to overwhelm you. His voice, tinged with a mix of longing and frustration, cut through you like a knife. You had carefully guarded the painful memories of your past, shielding them from Brian and everyone else. The thought that your reluctance to open up was causing him such anguish tore at your heart.

"I know I do, but like Rog said, I want to meet her family and she’s so closed to the subject," Brian confessed, his voice laden with vulnerability. You felt a pang of guilt knowing that your avoidance of discussing your family history had put him in this position.

"Still?" Roger's surprised exclamation echoed in the kitchen. It dawned on you that Brian had likely confided in his friends about his desire to take the next step in your relationship, a step that involved meeting your family.

"I mean, I know she’s uncomfortable talking about it. But I... I thought that after so many years, she would open up," Brian continued, his disappointment palpable in his tone. The weight of his words settled heavily on your shoulders, filling you with a profound sense of remorse.

"That hurts like shit, you know? It’s like she’s not on the same page as me. That makes me doubt when I should propose," Brian admitted, his words piercing straight to your core. The realization that your silence was causing Brian pain left you feeling utterly helpless.

The girls exchanged apologetic glances, understanding the depth of your turmoil. Mary placed a comforting hand on your arm, her eyes filled with sympathy. Dominique squeezed your hand gently, offering silent support.

Inside the kitchen, the conversation continued, oblivious to the turmoil it had caused you. You struggled to find the right words, the knot in your throat constricting your ability to respond. How could you explain the scars of your past, the reasons behind your reluctance, without reopening old wounds?

In that moment, surrounded by the loving concern of your friends and the distant murmur of Brian's conflicted thoughts, you felt torn apart. You wanted nothing more than to ease Brian's pain, to reassure him of your love and commitment. Yet, the fear of reliving past traumas held you back, trapping you in a cycle of silence and guilt.

The girls understood you just wanted the moment to end as you stared into space. So Dominique faked a laugh and entered with Veronica playing along as if they had heard nothing from before. The weight of Brian's words lingered heavily in your mind as you re-entered the kitchen with Mary's supportive squeeze. Dominique and Veronica seamlessly shifted the conversation, their easy banter providing a welcome distraction from the emotional turmoil you were grappling with.

You took a deep breath, steeling yourself before approaching Brian. Despite wanting to show affection, you kept a safe distance, planting a quick kiss on his cheek. His confusion was evident, but he played along, perhaps sensing your need for space.

As the group chatted, your thoughts continued to drift back to the conversation you overheard earlier. The pain of your family's betrayal and the scars it left were raw and unyielding. You couldn't help but feel like your trauma was casting a shadow over your present happiness, threatening to rob you of the love and joy you found with Brian.

Your brother's face flashed in your mind once more. You wondered how he was doing, whether he had found peace or was still haunted by the past like you were. The longing to reconcile, to apologize and seek forgiveness, gnawed at your heart. If only you could have one more chance to make things right, to hold him close and say the words you never had the courage to say before.

Lost in your thoughts, you struggled to stay present in the conversation. Brian's concerned gaze occasionally flickered towards you, his expression reflecting his confusion and concern. You knew he sensed something was amiss, but you couldn't find the words to explain the storm raging inside you.

The kitchen buzzed with laughter and conversation, but for you, it felt like you were drowning in a sea of unresolved emotions and regrets. You wanted to break free from the grip of your past, to heal and move forward with Brian by your side. But the wounds were deep, and the fear of confronting them seemed insurmountable.

Brian's concerned touch on your hand brought you back from the tumultuous thoughts that had been plaguing you. With effort, you managed to muster a half-smile and gently squeeze his hand in reassurance before refocusing on the light-hearted debate about the gender of the future Deacon.

As the evening progressed, you found yourself in the living room once more, the comfortable ambiance and the gentle buzz of champagne providing a temporary respite from your inner turmoil. You sipped on your second glass, enjoying the warmth it brought to your head without crossing the line into intoxication.

Despite the jovial atmosphere around you, the conversation from earlier continued to replay in your mind like a broken record. The weight of Brian's unspoken concerns and your own unresolved emotions pressed down on you, urging you to seek solace in a familiar but unwise habit.

Excusing yourself quietly, you slipped outside onto the porch, craving the solitary comfort of a cigarette. You had fought hard to overcome this vice, but tonight, the familiar ritual offered a brief escape from the complexities of your emotions. Wrapped in your coat against the winter chill, you lit up, inhaling deeply as wisps of smoke curled into the cold night air.

The rhythmic rise and fall of your breaths matched the soft glow of the cigarette's ember, a fleeting moment of calm amidst the storm raging inside you. Each exhale carried with it a mix of regret and relief, the nicotine temporarily soothing the ache in your chest.

As you stood there, gazing out into the quiet night, you felt a pang of guilt for indulging in something you had worked so hard to leave behind. Yet, part of you knew that tonight was different, that sometimes coping meant returning to old comforts, if only for a fleeting moment.

The porch offered a sanctuary of solitude, a space where you could gather your thoughts away from the prying eyes and well-meaning concerns of your friends. The cigarette burned down slowly between your fingers, each passing moment bringing a sense of clarity and a renewed determination to face the challenges ahead.

"I though you wanted to quit." As Brian joined you on the porch, his presence brought a mix of comfort and tension. You sensed his disapproval as he mentioned your effort to quit smoking, a habit he had always disliked but never openly criticized. His concern for your well-being was evident in his voice, though tempered with an understanding that tonight was different.

"Yeah, well, I was feeling like letting go for tonight," you responded defensively, taking a seat on the porch stairs. The soft glow of the cigarette illuminated the space between you, casting shadows that mirrored the conflict within.

Brian sat beside you, his gaze fixed on your profile as you avoided meeting his eyes. His concern deepened as he observed your distant demeanor throughout the evening, a stark contrast to your usual closeness.

"What's been up with you all night? You seem distant with me. It's unlike you," Brian gently probed, his voice carrying a note of hurt beneath the worry. The weight of his words struck a nerve, reminding you of the emotional distance you had inadvertently created.

You scoffed bitterly, your gaze drifting to the night sky that seemed devoid of stars. "Well, a lot of things are unlike me since you don't seem to know me," you retorted, the words escaping before you could soften their impact. The bitterness in your tone cut through the chilly air, leaving an uncomfortable silence in its wake.

Brian's expression shifted from concern to confusion, then to a trace of hurt as your words sank in. The accusation in your statement caught him off guard, and a frown creased his features. "What do you mean by that?" he asked softly, his voice tinged with a mixture of disbelief and concern.

You let out a frustrated huff, feeling the weight of the evening's revelations and the unresolved tension pressing down on you. "You should know," you replied, your voice betraying a hint of vulnerability beneath the bitterness. "After all, we're not on the same page."

His eyes widened in realization, a flicker of defensiveness coloring his tone. "You heard earlier. You eavesdropped on our conversation?" Brian's voice held a note of accusation, his own hurt surfacing as he processed the breach of privacy.

The air between you grew heavy with unspoken words and unaddressed emotions. You knew you had crossed a line, yet the words had spilled out in a moment of raw emotion and frustration.

The tension between you and Brian escalated quickly as the weight of unspoken words hung heavily in the air. His initial shock at your revelation about overhearing their conversation morphed into frustration, evident in the way he stood tall before you, his frustration palpable.

"Oh hush, we did not. We just arrived at the exact moment you said you weren’t sure about ever asking me to marry you," you countered, your voice tinged with a mix of defiance and hurt. Snuffing out the cigarette, you tossed it aside, trying to rein in your emotions as Brian spoke of wanting to meet your family properly before proposing."Just because I haven’t met your family. I want to do things properly and ask for your hand," Brian insisted, his tone a blend of determination and exasperation.You shook your head adamantly, cutting him off before he could delve further into a topic that struck a raw nerve.

"Stop right there. I don’t want to talk about it," you stated firmly, your eyes meeting his with a mixture of defiance and vulnerability.Brian, frustrated and at his wit's end, rose to his full height, towering over you. "You’re always so closed about that subject. For fuck’s sake, y/n, I’m your boyfriend! Not a stranger!" His voice carried a note of pleading, laced with the sting of feeling shut out from a part of your life.Feeling the heat of the argument rising within you, you stood your ground, matching his intensity with your own. "I fucking know that! But maybe if you considered my feelings, then you would understand that topic is sensitive," you shot back, your voice rising with each word. Brian raised his hands in frustration, his usually composed demeanor showing cracks under the weight of the unresolved issue. His hair danced in the wind, a visual echo of the storm brewing between you. "I understand, I always try to understand. But I can’t walk on eggshells every time I speak about your family if you don’t at least explain why!" His words were a plea for clarity, a plea to bridge the gap that had widened between you over the years.

“Well I don’t want to explain because I don’t trust you and myself.” The weight of your words hung heavy in the air, leaving a palpable tension between you and Brian. The hurt that flashed across his face cut deep, a stark reminder of the damage your unguarded words had caused. You immediately regretted pushing him away with such harsh honesty, knowing you had crossed a line from which there was no easy return.

"I'm sorry, I shouldn’t have…" you began, but Brian had already turned away, his silence a clear indication that he needed space. His terse suggestion to go back inside echoed in your ears, leaving you to follow him quietly, your head bowed with remorse.

As you reentered the house, the atmosphere felt strained, the group's lingering glances and hushed tones revealing their awareness of the argument. Brian settled into a seat, choosing a spot as far from you as possible, his body language closed off and distant. It was clear he needed time to process, and perhaps to heal from the wounds your words had inflicted.

Feeling the weight of guilt and regret, you tried to refocus on the conversation swirling around you, attempting to engage despite the emotional turmoil brewing inside. The effort felt futile, each attempt at normalcy overshadowed by the tension that hung in the air.

Just as you struggled to find your footing amidst the group, Robert approached you with a bright smile, clutching one of his favorite toys. His resemblance to John in that moment melted some of the heaviness in your heart. His innocent joy and the simplicity of his gesture offered a brief respite from the complex emotions swirling around you.

You knelt down to his level, returning his smile with a gentleness that belied the turmoil within. "Hey buddy, what have you got there?" you asked, allowing yourself to be momentarily distracted by the warmth and innocence of the child's presence.

Robert eagerly showed you his toy, his enthusiasm contagious even in the midst of the strained atmosphere. For a fleeting moment, you set aside the weight of the argument and the uncertainty that loomed over your relationship with Brian. Instead, you focused on the simple joy of connecting with a child who knew nothing of adult complexities.

As Brian watched you laughing with Robert, unaware of his gaze, John caught his friend's contemplative expression. Leaning closer, he offered a comforting perspective on the complexities of love and the weight of unresolved pasts.

"Love and the past are complicated. But that doesn’t make them worth less in our eyes," John reassured Brian, his voice carrying the wisdom of someone who had weathered his own storms. "One day she’ll come around when you least expect it."

Brian listened intently, absorbing John's words with a mix of hope and uncertainty. "But what should I do then?" he asked, his voice tinged with a hint of desperation.

John shrugged gently, a knowing smile playing on his lips. "Love her, as simple as it seems unreal. Just be patient, everything will be fine."

Brian nodded thoughtfully, his gaze alternating between John's reassuring presence and you, still engrossed in playful banter with Robert. Despite the turmoil of emotions swirling within him, Brian found a measure of solace in John's words. He understood that rushing or forcing the issue would only push you further away. Instead, he resolved to continue loving you, giving you the time and space you needed to confront your past on your own terms.

Meanwhile, Freddie interrupted the poignant moment by enlisting Roger to fetch a bottle of champagne from the kitchen. Roger, ever the reluctant participant in domestic tasks, grumbled under his breath but complied nonetheless. With a dramatic roll of his eyes, he headed off to locate the requested bottle, muttering about being the group's designated errand boy.

Robert's excitement over the fire truck on TV momentarily distracted you from the tense atmosphere in the room. Smiling at him, you pointed at the screen and remarked, "Yeah bud, just like your toy." His eyes widened with fascination as he watched the flashing lights, oblivious to the weight of the conversation that had just transpired.

Turning your attention back to the television, you noticed everyone in the room had also become captivated by the breaking news. John reached for the remote and increased the volume, the urgency in the reporter's voice drawing everyone's attention.

"...it seems to be one of the most violent episodes that has happened in years in London," the reporter's voice echoed through the room. "The night took a bitter turn for those students who only came to enjoy a gig at the Orpheum in west London. Two hundred of them were here to watch a few bands but mostly one: Sunset Curve."

The mention of the band's name sent an unexpected pang through your heart. Sunset Curve — a name you hadn't heard in years, yet it carried a weight of memories and emotions you had long tried to bury. Brian noticed the change in your demeanor, his concern evident as he glanced at you from across the room.

As the news report unfolded with chilling details, your friends murmured in disbelief, their voices a backdrop to the tragic events described. The room filled with a heavy silence as the reporter's words pierced through the air, each sentence delivering a devastating blow.

“On these images you can see the remnants of the Orpheum after that tragic event. Around 9pm, as the band was in the middle of their song, 24-year-old Chriss Klain entered the bar and started to shoot aimlessly though the crowd.”

The words hung in the air like a shroud of despair, the gravity of the situation sinking in deeper with each passing moment. Your heart pounded in your chest as the reporter continued, each word dragging you further into a nightmare you desperately wished wasn't real.

“It’s to be trusted that the man was highly intoxicated. A few people were hurt and the police counts three dead already. Two young ladies from the crowd and the lead guitarist of the band: Luke Patterson.”

The world seemed to come to a standstill as the name echoed in your mind — Luke Patterson. Your brother. The lead guitarist of Sunset Curve. It felt unreal, a cruel twist of fate that shattered everything you thought you knew.

In that moment, time ceased to exist. Your thoughts whirled, grappling with the sudden and incomprehensible loss. You clung to a desperate hope that it was all a mistake, a terrible mix-up that would soon be corrected. But as images of your brother flashed on the screen, reality crashed down around you like a tidal wave.

Everything you had built, everything you hoped for, crumbled in an instant. The pain was raw, engulfing you in a sea of disbelief and sorrow. Your mind struggled to process the magnitude of what had just been revealed, unable to reconcile the vibrant memories of your brother with the horrific news unfolding before you.

As the reporter's voice continued, detailing Luke's role in the band and the tragic loss, your mind swirled with memories and regrets. The ache in your chest intensified, a physical manifestation of the pain that gripped your heart. Around you, the group began to discuss the horrific event, their voices distant and muted against the overwhelming weight of your grief.

"It was a horrific event," someone murmured, their words barely registering as the reality of Luke's absence settled like a heavy fog. The thought that you would never again have the chance to apologize, to reconcile with your brother, tore at your soul. He was gone, and with him went any hope of healing the wounds of the past.

Images of Luke flashed through your mind — his infectious laughter, his mischievous grin, the way he always looked up to you despite everything. He had been your baby brother, someone you were supposed to protect, yet your own pain and anger had driven a wedge between you. Now, those wounds felt irreparable, a gaping chasm that stretched beyond reach.

"The young man, only 26, was the writer and leader of the band. He wrote their most famous hit: 'Unsaid N/n,'" the reporter's voice continued, each word tightening the knot in your throat. "N/n" — the nickname Luke had given you when he was just a toddler, a playful twist on your name that had stuck throughout the years. The mention of the song he had penned brought forth a flood of memories, memories you struggled to contain.

Suddenly, the familiar melody of "Unsaid N/n" filled the room, its haunting notes weaving through the air. It was his creation, his voice immortalized in the music that now surrounded you.

Tears streamed down your cheeks uncontrollably as the music played, each note a painful reminder of the loss you couldn't comprehend. The melody that once brought joy and comfort now echoed with grief and shattered dreams. In that moment, the weight of your guilt and sorrow overwhelmed you, paralyzing your senses and drowning you in a sea of regret.

As the room buzzed with discussions and condolences, you felt detached, as if trapped in a nightmare from which you couldn't wake. The memories of Luke flooded your mind — his laughter, his antics, the moments shared and the moments lost. He was supposed to be here, alive and well, not a name on a news report, not a haunting melody on a television screen.

Through tear-blurred vision, you saw Robert trying to get your attention, his innocent voice lost in the cacophony of emotions crashing within you. Part of you wanted to respond, to comfort the child who looked up to you, but another part couldn't bear to face the pain any longer.

"No, it's not true," you whispered to yourself, the words barely audible amidst the chaos in your mind. "He's not gone. He can't be gone." Denial and disbelief clawed at your heart, refusing to accept the harsh reality that Luke was no longer with you.

With trembling steps, you rose from your seat, the weight of guilt and failure heavy on your shoulders. Every fiber of your being screamed for escape, for solitude away from the suffocating grief that surrounded you. You couldn't bear to hear his voice, his music, not when it only amplified the emptiness in your soul.

You made your way towards the exit, your movements mechanical, driven by an overwhelming need to flee. The room blurred around you as tears continued to fall, your chest tight with anguish and regret. Each step away from the sorrowful symphony playing on the television was a step towards numbness, towards a darkness where the pain might dull, if only for a moment.

In that moment of shattered despair, you felt like a failure in every role you cherished — as a person, as a lover, as a big sister. Guilt gnawed at your conscience, accusing you of failing Luke when he needed you most. The ache in your heart was unbearable, the void left by his absence echoing with the memories of what could have been.

As you moved towards the exit, your vision blurred with tears and your mind clouded with grief. The weight of the tragedy and the guilt of unresolved conflicts with Luke bore down on you like a heavy shroud. Each step felt like an eternity, a desperate attempt to escape the haunting melody that played on the television.

Just as you reached the threshold, Roger's voice cut through the haze surrounding you. His concerned tone pierced through the din of the room, but it was as though his words were underwater, distant and muffled. He stood in your path, blocking the way out, his eyes searching yours for any sign of comprehension.

"Y/n, are you okay?" His voice reverberated in your ears, but it struggled to penetrate the fog that enveloped your thoughts. The bottle of champagne he had found lay forgotten on the side as he cautiously reached out towards you, sensing your unstable state.

You tried to respond, to reassure him that you were fine, but your body betrayed you. Waves of dizziness washed over you, the room spinning relentlessly. Roger's concerned face appeared doubled, and the lights overhead seemed unbearably bright, adding to your disorientation.

Your breathing grew ragged, shallow gasps escaping your lips as your legs wavered beneath you. It felt as though you were on a boat in a tumultuous sea, unable to find your footing. The voices around you melded into a distant hum, indistinct and surreal.

Then, as if in slow motion, you began to sway uncontrollably. Your knees buckled, and you started to fall to the side, towards the unforgiving floor. Panic surged through you, but before you could hit the ground, Roger's reflexes kicked in. He moved swiftly, his strong arms catching the side of your head, preventing a harsh impact.

"Y/n!" His voice was urgent now, filled with alarm as he held you steady. The room seemed to tilt around you, sounds echoing strangely in your ears. You struggled to focus, to grasp onto any semblance of stability amidst the chaos swirling within you.

Roger's voice sounded distant as if coming from the end of a tunnel. The room spun around you, colors blending into a dizzying whirlpool of confusion and anguish. Your body felt weightless and heavy at the same time, limbs unresponsive as if disconnected from your will. The world tilted dangerously, threatening to plunge you into darkness.

The last thing you registered before slipping into unconsciousness was the sound of Roger's panicked voice calling your name, his hands catching you just in time to prevent a harsh impact with the ground. His urgency echoed in your ears as your vision blurred and faded, swallowed by the overwhelming tide of emotions and the crushing weight of grief.

In that fleeting moment between awareness and oblivion, you felt a strange sense of relief. Relief from the pain, relief from the suffocating sorrow that had gripped your heart moments ago. It was a fleeting respite from the unbearable truth of Luke's absence, a moment of fleeting peace in the tumultuous storm of your emotions.

As darkness claimed you, the world slipped away, leaving behind a void where thoughts and memories swirled like distant echoes. The echoes of Luke's laughter, of shared moments and unspoken words, lingered in the recesses of your mind, haunting yet comforting in their familiarity.

And as you drifted into unconsciousness, a single thought lingered — a hope, fragile and flickering, that somewhere beyond the veil of darkness, Luke's spirit still lingered, watching over you with the love and warmth that transcended life and death.

The room fell silent, all eyes now on the unfolding scene. Concern etched deeply into Brian's features as he rushed to your side, followed closely by Mary and Veronica. Dominique hovered nearby, her hands clasped in worry as she exchanged a frantic glance with Freddie. Roger's grip was steady as he held you upright, his voice a mix of urgency and reassurance. "Stay with me, Y/n. Can you hear me?" His words were urgent yet gentle, trying to anchor you in the midst of your overwhelming turmoil. You weren’t conscious anymore, your body all limp in his hold which made Brian’s heart twitch in panic. Through the haze, Brian's voice cut through, filled with concern and determination. "Let's get her to the couch," he suggested, his hands moving to support you alongside Roger's. Together, they guided you back into the living room, where they eased you gently onto the couch amidst a flurry of worried murmurs.

Mary knelt beside you, her touch light yet comforting as she checked on you. "She looks in shock, lift her legs up," she instructed softly, her voice a soothing anchor in the chaos. Veronica hovered nearby, her hand resting protectively on her belly as she exchanged worried glances with the others. Freddie appeared with a glass of water, which Brian held and splashed some on your face. "Wake up, my love," he urged gently, his hazel eyes searching yours with deep concern. Hoping the cool water would bring you back and provide a fleeting sense of clarity.

The atmosphere was thick with tension as everyone watched Brian's increasingly frantic attempts to rouse you. He shook you more violently, his voice growing desperate. "Y/n, please wake up. You're scaring me," he implored, his hands trembling as he tried to elicit any response from your unresponsive body.

John knelt beside you, checking your pulse and breathing. "She's breathing fine," he reassured, though the calmness in his voice couldn't mask the underlying worry. Despite this, Brian's panic only deepened, his calls becoming more urgent. "Y/n, please, you need to wake up," he repeated, his voice cracking with fear and desperation.

Freddie, unable to bear the sight any longer, sprang into action. "I'll go call an ambulance," he announced, his tone decisive as he hurried out of the room to get his phone. The urgency in his steps mirrored the collective anxiety gripping everyone present.

Mary continued to hold your hand, her grip firm yet gentle. "Come on, Y/n, we're here. You can do this," she whispered softly, trying to provide comfort and hope in the midst of the growing panic.

Veronica and Dominique exchanged worried glances, their concern palpable. Roger stood close by, ready to assist in any way he could, his usual confident demeanor replaced by a somber seriousness.

Brian's heart pounded as he held onto you, willing you to wake up with every fiber of his being. The moments stretched into an agonizing eternity, each second filled with the silent prayers and hopes of your friends surrounding you.

Just as Freddie was about to exit the room, Brian spoke up in a cracked voice. "Come on, Y/n," Brian whispered, his voice breaking. "Come back to me, please." His eyes never left your face, searching for any flicker of consciousness. The worry etched into his features was mirrored by everyone in the room, each silently praying for your return to awareness.

Finally, there was a faint stir. Your eyelids fluttered slightly, and a soft moan escaped your lips. The room collectively held its breath, the tiny movement a beacon of hope amidst the darkness. "That's it," Brian encouraged, his voice trembling with relief and continued worry. "Come on, you can do it." Slowly, your eyes began to open, the world coming back into focus. The faces around you were a blur of concern and relief, their voices blending into a chorus of reassurances and gentle urgings. Mary squeezed your hand gently, her eyes brimming with tears of relief. Veronica exhaled deeply, her hand resting on her belly, while Roger let out a small, shaky laugh of relief. As you blinked and looked around, Brian's tear-filled eyes met yours, and he let out a shaky breath. "Thank God," he whispered, his voice choked with emotion. "You're okay."

Brian's hands cradled your face gently, his thumbs brushing away the tears that had started to fall from your eyes. "You scared me," he admitted softly, his voice raw with emotion. "I thought I lost you." His eyes were filled with a depth of concern and love that only added to the weight of the moment.

Freddie, standing just behind Brian, exhaled deeply and gave a small nod, his usual flamboyance replaced with a rare look of genuine concern. "Welcome back, darling," he said softly, his voice unusually gentle.

John, still kneeling beside you, gave your shoulder a reassuring squeeze. "You gave us quite a scare," he said, his tone only being sincerity.

The room, which had been filled with tension and worry, now began to relax, the collective sigh of relief almost tangible. The atmosphere started to lighten as your friends saw signs of your recovery. However, as the moments passed, the earlier events that had driven you to the edge started to resurface in your mind, bringing back a flood of memories and emotions.

Without warning, you violently sat up, provoking a concert of disapproving sounds from everyone around you. "Whoa, take it easy!" Roger exclaimed, his hands hovering near you, ready to steady you if needed.

Brian immediately tried to push you back down gently, his concern evident in his every move. "You need to rest," he urged, his voice a mix of worry and insistence.

But you swatted his hands away, your own hands trembling as you spoke. "Please don’t touch me—" The words got stuck in your throat, choked off by the sobs that were beginning to rise. Everything came back all at once: the news report, the image of your brother, the unbearable grief and guilt. It was as if a dam had broken inside you, releasing a torrent of emotions too powerful to contain.

The room was filled with an overwhelming sense of concern as they watched you spiral into a panic attack. Your breaths came in rapid, shallow gasps, and your eyes darted around the room as if searching for an escape from the suffocating fear.

Brian, noticing the signs of your escalating panic, reached out once more, his hands trembling slightly. "Y/n, look at me," he said, his voice a mixture of urgency and tenderness. "Focus on my voice. You're safe here. Just breathe with me, okay? In and out, nice and slow."

Freddie, sensing the gravity of the situation, crouched down beside you, his usually flamboyant demeanor replaced with a calm, grounding presence. "Darling, we're all here for you," he said softly. "Just listen to Brian and breathe. You've got this."

Roger, still kneeling by your side, gently placed his hand on your shoulder, offering a steady anchor in the storm of your emotions. "You're not alone," he reassured you, his voice steady. "We're right here with you."

Mary, Veronica, and Dominique exchanged worried glances, their eyes reflecting the shared concern of the group. They moved a bit closer, forming a protective circle around you, their presence a silent yet powerful reminder that you were surrounded by people who cared deeply for you.

John, trying to reassure little Robert and Michael, knelt down to their level, speaking in soothing tones to keep them calm amid the tension. His eyes, however, never strayed far from you, his concern evident.

As you struggled to catch your breath, the room felt like it was closing in on you, the walls pressing closer and closer. Your chest tightened, and a sense of dread threatened to engulf you completely. You felt trapped, unable to escape the overwhelming fear and grief.

Brian, still focused on you, started to take slow, exaggerated breaths, hoping you would mirror his actions. "In through the nose, out through the mouth," he instructed gently, his eyes locked onto yours. "You're doing great. Just keep breathing with me."

Freddie nodded, his gaze unwavering. "One breath at a time, love," he said encouragingly. "We're all here for you."

Gradually, their calm and steady presence began to pierce through the fog of your panic. You found yourself starting to match Brian's breathing, each inhale and exhale becoming a little more controlled. The tightness in your chest began to ease, and the room started to come back into focus.

With each breath, you felt a bit more grounded, the overwhelming tide of emotions slowly receding. The faces of your friends, filled with concern and love, reminded you that you were not alone in this moment of darkness.

Brian continued to hold your hand, his grip warm and reassuring. "That's it," he murmured softly. "You're doing great. Just keep breathing."

As your breathing steadied, the reality of the situation began to sink in. The grief and pain were still there, but they were no longer threatening to consume you entirely.

Once your breathing calmed down, the weight of the world seemed to press on your shoulders. You collapsed into Brian's chest, the sobs wracking your body uncontrollably. "It's my fault," you repeated between gasps, the words heavy with anguish. The rest of your friends, still unsure of the cause of your distress, exchanged concerned glances, their worry deepening.

Brian held you close, his arms wrapped around you protectively, as he tried to soothe you. "Love, what is it?" he asked gently, his voice trembling with concern. "If I had held him back, he would still be alive. It's all my fault. He was right. I'm just like Dad..." You spiraled deeper into despair, and Brian's grip on your shoulders tightened gently, trying to anchor you.

"Y/n, what are you talking about?" Brian's voice was tender, his own tears matching yours as he witnessed your heartbreak unfold. Tears streamed down your face, and in all the six years of your relationship, he had never seen you so shattered.

"Luke..." you managed to choke out, your voice barely above a whisper. Brian's expression softened in understanding. "The guitarist who just died," he said softly, realization dawning on him. His heart ached for you, knowing the pain you were going through. He held you tighter, letting you cry out the grief that threatened to consume you.

“What about him?” you asked, shaking your head as tears continued to stream down your face. “He’s not named Luke Patterson. His real name is L/n. He’s... he was my baby brother.”

Brian froze, his eyes widening in shock as the weight of your words settled in. His arms tightened around you instinctively, pulling you closer in a protective embrace. “Oh my god, Y/n,” he murmured softly, his voice filled with sorrow and disbelief. “I had no idea. I’m so sorry.”

The room fell into a stunned silence, each of your friends processing the revelation with heavy hearts. John, Freddie, Roger, Mary, Veronica, and Dominique exchanged somber glances, their expressions reflecting deep sympathy for your loss.

“You couldn’t have known, Y/n. None of us could,” Brian reassured you, his voice gentle yet firm. He held you close, offering silent support as you struggled with the weight of your grief.

“I need to go see him, Brian,” you whispered urgently, your voice trembling with a mixture of desperation and determination. You needed closure, to confront the reality of your brother’s passing and find a way to reconcile the guilt that weighed heavily on your heart.

Brian nodded solemnly, understanding the urgency in your voice. “Of course,” he said softly, brushing a tear from your cheek. “We’ll go together.”

The rest of the night felt like a haze, blurred by grief and shock. Roger drove you and Dominique to the hospital in silence, the weight of the situation heavy in the air. The waiting room was a blur of sterile white walls and anxious faces. When they finally brought you in to identify him, your heart shattered into a million pieces.

Your cries echoed through the morgue as you saw him lying there, pale and cold. You reached out, touching his hand as if hoping he would wake up, as if it were all a terrible nightmare. But there was no response, just the harsh reality of his lifeless body. The wound through his chest was a cruel testament to the violence that had taken him away from you.

In that moment, part of you wished he would sit up and scold you for disturbing his sleep, for waking him up from some silly dream. But deep down, you knew that would never happen. He was gone, and you would never see his vibrant blue eyes open again.

That night felt like the longest of your life. Brian stayed by your side through it all, his comforting presence a lifeline amidst the overwhelming grief. Finally, in the quiet hours of the morning, you found the strength to share everything with him. You spoke of the abusive household you both endured, how you had run away together to escape the pain, and the fateful night he disappeared after a heated argument.

You poured out your guilt, your sorrow, and every raw emotion that had been buried deep within you for years. Brian listened, holding you close, offering words of comfort and understanding. His love and support gave you the courage to confront the painful memories and begin the long journey toward healing.

As the sun rose on that tragic night, you held onto Brian tightly, knowing that despite the pain, you were not alone anymore. Together, you faced the darkness of your past and began to navigate a future where healing and hope could eventually replace the overwhelming grief.

The rain fell steadily, casting a somber atmosphere over the cemetery as the mourners slowly dispersed. You remained standing in front of Luke's grave, the wet earth underfoot and the gray sky above mirroring the heaviness in your heart. The flowers and photos around the grave were a testament to the love and impact Luke had left behind, even in the moments you weren't there for him.

Luke's bandmates had approached you with the offer to buy the rights to "Unsaid N/n," but you declined. Deep down, you knew Luke wouldn't have wanted his personal message to you turned into a commercial endeavor. You found solace in the lyrics, the last words he wanted to say to you—a silent apology that you now cherished, even though you never had the chance to hear it from him.

Your friends, respectful of your grief, stood a distance behind you, offering silent support. Amidst the grayness, you noticed a figure in the distance. It had been a decade, but you instantly recognized him—the man who had inflicted so much pain on you and Luke, the man who had shattered your family and your sense of security.

He stood under an umbrella, watching you quietly, and then nodded in your direction. The gesture felt like a cruel mockery of the agony he had caused. You turned your head away, refusing to acknowledge him or give him the satisfaction of seeing your pain

"I love you, Luke, and I always will. I'm sorry I couldn't protect you from the world. I'm sorry I couldn't give you the life you deserved," you whispered, your words carried away by the falling rain. Silent tears streamed down your face, mixing with the raindrops, unnoticed.

Lost in grief, you hadn't realized you had let go of your umbrella until a small hand grabbed yours. Looking down, you saw Robert standing beside you, holding out his own little umbrella, trying to shield you from the rain. His innocent gesture touched your heart, and you crouched down to his level, managing a small, tearful smile. "Thank you, buddy," you said softly, taking his umbrella as he ran back to his parents, leaving you alone again with your thoughts.

Brian appeared beside you, his expression soft and understanding as he watched you silently. He didn't say anything at first, respecting your moment of grief. The rain continued to fall steadily around you, creating a gentle backdrop to the heavy emotions that weighed on your heart.

After a few moments, Brian reached out and gently squeezed your shoulder, offering comfort through his touch. "He was lucky to have you as his sister," Brian said softly, his voice barely audible over the sound of raindrops hitting the umbrella. "You did everything you could."

You nodded, grateful for his presence and understanding. "I just wish I could have done more," you whispered, your voice catching with emotion. Brian pulled you into a gentle embrace, holding you close as you let yourself lean against him, seeking solace in his warmth and strength.

"You gave him love," Brian murmured against your hair, his arms steady around you. "That's the most important thing."

You held onto Brian tightly, finding comfort in his words and his presence. Together, you stood there in the rain, surrounded by the memories of Luke and the support of your loved ones, finding a small measure of peace amidst the storm of emotions.

Brian held you tightly, his heart breaking as he watched you spiral into despair. "Shh, love, it's not your fault," he whispered, his voice steady despite his own turmoil. "You are nothing like your dad. You're kind and loving. Please, just breathe and tell me what happened."

The rest of your friends exchanged worried glances, feeling the weight of your pain without fully understanding its depth. They stayed close, their presence a silent support as you continued to unravel.

With trembling hands, you clung to Brian's shirt, the fabric dampening with your tears. "Luke," you choked out, the name a jagged shard in your throat. "He was my brother. My baby brother, Brian."

"It's all my fault," you repeated, the words a mantra of guilt. "I should have protected him. I should have been there. But I pushed him away."

Brian gently lifted your chin, forcing you to meet his gaze. "Listen to me, Y/n," he said firmly, his voice filled with unwavering conviction. "You are not responsible for what happened. You did not cause this. You did everything you could with the love and care you had."

Freddie stepped closer, his usual flamboyance replaced with a rare, quiet empathy. "He's right, darling," he said softly. "We all have our regrets, but blaming yourself won't bring him back. You have to find a way to forgive yourself."

Roger nodded, his expression solemn. "You loved him, that's what matters. And I bet he knew that."

Mary, Veronica, and Dominique gathered around, each offering a touch of reassurance and understanding. Their words mingled with the falling rain, a gentle chorus of support that surrounded you in your darkest moment.

Together, your friends formed a circle of solace, reminding you of the love and strength you still had despite the devastating loss. Brian held you close, his embrace a lifeline amidst the storm of grief, promising to stand by you as you navigated the painful journey ahead.

And life went on, the earth kept spinning, and gradually, the pain began to soothe. The ache in your heart remained, but with each passing day, it became more bearable. One thing remained steadfast amid the sorrow: your love for Brian and the memory of Luke. Nothing could change the past, but you were determined not to let it define your future. You clung to the lessons learned from Luke's tragic departure, vowing to cherish every moment and to honor his memory in every way possible.

As time passed, you found solace in Brian's unwavering support and the comforting presence of your friends. They stood by you through the darkest moments, offering understanding and empathy without judgment. Their love became a source of strength, helping you heal and slowly rebuild the shattered pieces of your heart.

In the quiet moments, you often found yourself listening to Luke's favorite song, "Unsaid N/n," the lyrics a poignant reminder of his spirit and the bond you shared. Each note carried a bittersweet melody, weaving through your memories and filling the void he left behind.

Looking toward the future, you held onto a quiet hope. Perhaps one day, there would be a Luke May who would carry on Luke's legacy, honoring his uncle in ways you had dreamed of. You envisioned a future where his memory would be celebrated, where his spirit would live on through the love and stories shared by those who knew him.

And as you gazed into Brian's eyes, seeing the depth of his love and understanding, you knew that together, you could face whatever challenges lay ahead. With him by your side, you found the strength to embrace life again, cherishing each moment and carrying Luke's memory in your heart forever.

[rogertaylorshbb]

"a hooker? god no!" Roger Taylor fanfic {part 1}

hey! so I'm so so sorry I haven't written a fanfic in 11 days. I've decided to write this one, it may not be amazing, but its what I can do for now till I have more time!!

You were ecstatic that your friend brought you queens studio. you met violet a week ago. you had met in a bar and got to talking. she was more mature then you and had been around, you were only 21 while she was 29.

you both walked into the front of the studio. Roger sat at a table, a cigarette hanging between his fingers near an ash tray while he was staring at a magazine.

"oh my god....is that the drummer?" you gasped in excitement kind of jumping and giggling. "yes, that's roger" she sighed nonchalantly. "anyway I'm gonna go, 5 minutes, stay here" she pointed a finger at you and walked away leaving you alone. "wait...no- you cant just leave me here!" you shouted as she walked away.

shouting out to violet caught rogers attention. you saw his confused and disturbed face as he lifted his head up from his magazine. he looked at you in confusion cocking his head to the side. "hi" you raised your hand. you stood there awkwardly as he looked you up and down.

"hey" he sighed leaning back in his seat. you smiled which he did not return. "you can come sit here if you want" he nodded his head over to the seat next to him.

you walked over and sat down. you were nervous as fuck! you didn't know what to say, you had to remind yourself to breath. "are you violets friend?" he questioned crossing his legs. "uh yea" you smiled and put your head down.

"hm, so are you a fan?"

"oh yea, your music is awesome!" you shook your head yes. he smirked at you. 'thank you". he moved a bit closer to you. "so would you like a drink?". "oh- I don't drink"

"ah, gotcha" he nodded.

he then moved closer to you. "so, do you wanna go somewhere more private?" he raised an eyebrow. you furrowed your brows at him. "huh?"

"well...shouldn't we go somewhere more private?" he chuckled like it was the obvious thing to do. "why...anyway violet will be back any second". he chuckled even more. "hard to get..hm".

"what? what do you mean 'hard to get'" you exclaimed. he furrowed his brows but smiled. "c'mon enough with the games" he grabbed your hand and stood up. you forcefully pushed his hand away.

"what games?".

"your- wait- your not a....."

"a hooker? god no!" you shouted.

"oh- oh my god! I'm so sorry, I just thought..."

"Jesus no, I'm just a fan" you shook her head.

so that's all I'm gonna write for this part, sorry if its short!! hope you like the storyline though!

[i-should-be-doing-alright]

So I have a few Fics on the go ATM, I’m trying desperately to finish them all, hopefully my 90s Bri one will be done soon then I can focus on my teacher!Bri first chapter. I’m already at like 5.3k, and I’ve not even got to the smut yet, just pure seduction. Anyways.

[kassiekole22]

Joy Ride

𖤐⭒𖤐⭒𖤐⭒𖤐⭒𖤐⭒𖤐⭒𖤐⭒𖤐⭒𖤐⭒𖤐⭒𖤐⭒𖤐⭒𖤐⭒𖤐⭒𖤐⭒𖤐⭒𖤐⭒𖤐⭒𖤐

𖤐⭒𖤐⭒𖤐⭒𖤐⭒𖤐⭒𖤐⭒𖤐⭒𖤐⭒𖤐⭒𖤐⭒𖤐⭒𖤐⭒𖤐⭒𖤐⭒𖤐⭒𖤐⭒𖤐⭒𖤐⭒𖤐

Pairing: Brian O'Conner X Fem!Reader

Description: Brian finds you walking home late one night and offers you a ride, which turns into a night-long joy ride around Miami.

Warnings: Fluff, Speeding, Friends Or Future Lovers? (You Decide)

Word Count: 2.2k

A/N: Sooooo, I watched 2 Fast 2 Furious for the first time a around a month ago and this guy has been on my mind ever since. I have always really loved Paul Walker so this was bound to happen eventually. 😂 I don't know if I plan to write more for him or if this will just be a one time thing, but I have been working on this fic for quite some time now and I'm happy to finally be posting it. More to come from other beloved characters soon! Enjoy the fic and if you want more Brian O'Conner fics in the future, let me know in the comments or inbox! 🖤 (Also did any of you get the reference in the name? 👀)

Main MasterList: 🖤

Kassie's Angels: @mornandil, @lorebite.

(If you want to be added to the taglist, let me know in the comments! 🖤)

𖤐⭒𖤐⭒𖤐⭒𖤐⭒𖤐⭒𖤐⭒𖤐⭒𖤐⭒𖤐⭒𖤐⭒𖤐⭒𖤐⭒𖤐⭒𖤐⭒𖤐⭒𖤐⭒𖤐⭒𖤐⭒𖤐

2002

The air is pretty cool for a night in Miami, but I don't mind. I walk with my hands in the pockets of my hoodie, protecting them from the slight chill. It's nothing too intense, but I haven't been used to being in cooler temperatures for awhile now.

I walk quickly down the sidewalk as a few cars pass from time to time. The sounds of their engines make my fingers and feet tingle a little, my body missing the feeling of the steering wheel gripped in my fingers and the gas pedal under my foot.

I wrecked pretty badly during my last race, resulting in my car becoming too banged up to drive. Most street racers have other cars to fall back on. Unfortunately for me, my girl was all I had. Now I'm left to walk on foot until I can get enough money to fix her.

The ambiance in the street is pretty calm until I hear the familiar rumble of a very specific engine approaching my side. To my surprise, that iconic silver and blue Nissan Skyline pulls up, slowing down to drive at my walking speed. But the slick paint job or glowing underbody isn't what makes it difficult to look away. The driver is none other than the man who beat me in my last race, Brian O'Conner.

I'm met with a kind smile as he rolls down his windows, his bright blue eyes glancing up at me from the shadows of the interior. There is just something about that man that draws me in. I could never tell what exactly it was, but it pulled me in his direction like a bee to a flower every time I was in the same location as him.

"Ey, need a ride?" He queries in a rasied voice, nearly shouting over the Skyline's growl.

Though it's tempting, I don't want to throw a wrench in any plans he may have. Knowing him, he has another street race or date to get to at this hour. So, despite the aching pain in my feet that is screaming in protest, I respond casually, "Nah, man. I'm good. Home's not too far away anyway, y'know?"

Even though it wouldn't take him too long, it would be pretty pointless to drive only a couple blocks anyway. He takes a mere second to let my words sink in and find an answer, his eyes hopeful as they are taken off the road and landing on me once more.

"We don't gotta take you home. The night's still—" He checks his watch, and his eyes widen slightly as he realizes the time. "—Well, middle-aged, but that don't gotta stop the fun."

I can't contain a faint chuckle at his dumb joke, rolling my eyes as I do so. The next thing I know, my feet are subconsciously coming to a stop, and he gently lays on the brakes. His car is also stopping right beside where I now stand, but the engine still purrs softly to alert all of its consciousness.

"Ah, c'mon, girl. Let's live a little, eh?" He flashes me that dangerous half-smirk that beckons me forward into mischief. It now dawns on me that he might not have the intention of taking me home, which is intriguing in a way.

I contemplate my options for a moment. The only thing waiting for me at home is a couple bottles of beer and some cold pizza left in the fridge from the night prior. It seems like I've been spending most of my time alone lately. Maybe it would be good to spend some time in good company.

"Alright," I give in with a subtle but still noticeable sigh, backing down in my mental debate.

He reaches across and opens the passenger door for me as I round the car, its headlights illuminating me for a brief moment as I cross in front of the bumper before hoping into the seat offered to me. It felt weird being in the left seat and not having a steering wheel before me. I could never get used to those foreign imported cars. 

But regardless, it sure is a beauty. The leather interior smells oddly fresh and calming, with a faint hint of exhaust filtering through the open windows. It's clear he just cleaned her up. Brian was always the type to take care of his rides.

I pull the seatbelt across my chest and lock it in securely, mentally preparing myself for the wild ride I know damn well he is about to take me on. He looks at me and flashes me that cocky yet proud smile as he revvs the engine for only a moment before taking off into the night.

With windows down and speed carrying us, I feel like I'm floating on air. The soft breeze I felt only moments ago is now a fast wind in my hair, and the soft ambiance of the nightlife in Miami is now disturbed by a machine growl.

I glance over at him, and it's as if time slows for just a minute as I take in how happy he is. He's a simple man. He doesn't need the fancy things in life, just a fast car to make the corners of his lips part into that iconic grin I have grown to love.

"Wanna get fuckin' nuts?" He asks me, his voice taking me out of my thoughts and putting me back into reality. That's when I notice that mischievous look in his ocean blue eyes, their pupils blown wide with adrenaline.

Hm... Blue and full of adrenaline, like the blood pumping in our veins.

"What?" I blurt out, not fully comprehending what he is asking, until my gaze wanders down to where his thumbs hovers over the nitro buttons.

I look at the road ahead, seeing that it is completely barren of all life, and I can't help but smirk at the thought of what he is suggesting. It's a dangerous game—playing with speed in such a way—but a thrilling one, for sure.

Taking my eyes off the road ahead to look back at him, I notice the hopeful glint once again in his eyes, only pushing my thought process toward wanting to comply. So without a second breath, I cheer, "Fuck yeah!"

With a simple click of two buttons at once, we are off like a rocket in space. Suddenly, the street lights look like comets, and the lines on the road are just blurs of colors. It's oddly beautiful in a way, and I marvel at how it ignites my soul with such a unique feeling, which I can't possibly seek from anything else. My fingers dig into the sides of my seat as my heart pounds against my ribcage like thunder, both overwhelmed but thirsty for more of this intoxicating rush.

Though Brian only lets this last for a moment, just seconds passed that will remain with me for an eternity. We laugh as the car slows to a semi-normal speed again. My smile is so wide, I can feel my face begin to hurt.

But I don't care. I am just so high on the thrill that my mind is lost in a cloudy space of euphoria. It's crazy how the night went from a quiet walk home to taking a joy ride with one of my rivals, but I wouldn't have it any other way.

Once our laughter dies down, the soft purr of the engine is the only thing heard yet again as we both seemingly get lost in our own thoughts. What is he thinking? I wish I knew. The only thing on my mind is how happy I am. It isn't until a couple minutes later that he speaks his mind, taking a deep breath before his lips finally form the words he has been pondering.

"We should do this more often," he suggests in that nonchalant tone he carries quite regularly for someone with such excitement in his life. "Y'know, hang out outside the racing world? You're a cool girl."

I can't repress how my smile softens for a moment at his words as my eyes flick over in his direction while a million responses filter through my mind. This guy is a legend—a local celebrity, if you will. To have this opportunity is an honor. However, I don't necessarily get the vibe of entitlement from him. Instead, his atmosphere reflects something else—something friendly and inviting.

"And you're a cool guy. I'd love to hang with you more often." I reply, trying to sound chill but coming off way more sincere than intended. Though he doesn't seem to mind, in fact, he seems to be pleased with my response.

The next thing I know, he is pulling into a public beach. Its sands are abandoned by any human life due to the lateness of time, though the footprints of the visitors that day still remain like ghosts of the past, their memories carved in the sand until they get washed away by the waves.

He locks the car in park, unhooks his seatbelt, and gets out. I watch through the windshield as he rounds the side of it to rest back on the hood. My eyes study him as he lifts himself to sit on the hood, not once looking back to see if I leave the car as well. It's almost as if he expects me to.

So to fulfill his silent expectations, I swing my door open and hop out after freeing myself from my seatbelt, nearly stumbling as the ground is unexpectedly unsteady where I stand. My feet sink into the sand, and I'm grateful I chose to wear boots tonight over anything else.

Once out of my sticky situation, I take a moment to appreciate the freshness in the air—the sweet smell of the ocean before me for just a second. After approaching him, I rest beside him on the hood, watching the waves crash before us. It reminds me that life is quite like the sea. It's unpredictable, a little scary at times, but beautiful in many unique ways. I release a soft breath, my body relaxing in this calming moment.

"I remember the first time I saw you pull up in that black Trans Am to the race. Fuckin' engine and bass on your stereo roaring over the sound of the crowd." He chuckles while he reminisces about old memories.

"Buni," I correct him as I smile fondly, thinking about the beauty that's currently under a tarp in my garage, just waiting to be repaired and set free on the road once again.

"Yeah, Buni." He parrots me in an almost teasing way. I know he finds the fact that I named my car ridiculous, but I can see it in his eyes that it amuses him all the same. "You're something else, (L/N). A damn good racer, though."

My heart flutters at the compliment, and I feel my cheeks heat up with this familiar warmth that only he ignites in me best. The soft breeze blows through my hair as I think of a reply, running through my strains like an angel's fingertips. But it's not the breeze nor the location that has me in such a calm and joyful state.

I continue to study him—the way his blonde curls blow in the breeze, the corners of his lips turning up ever so slightly to show his contentment, his biceps flexing ever so slightly as he crosses his arms over his chest. It amazes me how all the different shades of blue in his iris reflect the scene before us. It's like I could literally drown in them each time I gaze into them to admire their beauty.

"Yeah? You and your Skyline ain't so bad either." I finally quip with a small bit of sarcasm dripping from my tone after forcing myself out of where my mind has disappeared to for a short time. He smiles softly at my words, because it's evident how I really feel about him. He knows, and I know that, but I don't really care anymore.

We talk until sunrise and watch as the black sky fades into orange and pink, blending with the stars to make them barely visible. Though they are out of sight, I know they still shine brightly above us, like angels waiting for us in heaven. It's quite special—maybe even magical.

The sea reflects the morning sun as it rises from the horizon, its golden rays shining upon us as we remain on the hood of the car. It's just us out here in our own little world. If I learned anything from last night, it's not the place that makes a moment special, but the person you share it with.

I don't know where this road will take us. I know it will be a long one—with plenty of traffic and bumps ahead—but the ride will be an enjoyable one with a new friend in the seat next to me as we speed through it all. And if we happen to get separated some point along the way, I know in my heart that I'll see him again.

𖤐⭒𖤐⭒𖤐⭒𖤐⭒𖤐⭒𖤐⭒𖤐⭒𖤐⭒𖤐⭒𖤐⭒𖤐⭒𖤐⭒𖤐⭒𖤐⭒𖤐⭒𖤐⭒𖤐⭒𖤐⭒𖤐

[starchants]

HIGH SPEED AND FULL THROTTLE

poly!fast-team x female!reader ; the team comes home.

word count — 629.

themes + warnings ; nothing but adorable fluff <3

author’s note — i’ve always kinda wondered what it would be like in a poly relationship with everyone of the crew so here is a small lil drabble about it! now to specify since i know some may bring up dom and mia being siblings, yes they are siblings and NO they are not in a relationship they simply share the reader along with their friends and NO they aren’t ever near each other in intimate moments either, i know that isn’t discussed here but i wanted to clarify that as well AND i can do a whole list of headcanons if anyone is interested <3!

support mention ; if you feel like supporting, a nice ‘like’ will suffice on my blog, i know some writers love to ask nicely if you could reblog or comment etc. yet on my blog (no hate towards them as everyone likes appreciation in different ways), but if you’d like to reblog or comment feel free after all this is a safe space for any fan-individual to have fun :’)

masterlist

the growling rumble of numerous cars surrounded the block causing the woman to grin softly to herself as she continued humming along to the voice of reba mcentire that swept through the kitchen. the warming smell of lemon pepper seasoned chicken, homemade mashed potatoes, fresh corn on the cob, and the cinnamon from the apple pie that had been finishing up baking in the oven had flooded through the kitchen of the toretto home. the grin stayed upon the woman’s lips as she moved around the kitchen to grab down the plates for the dinner before she moved towards the silverware drawer and grabbed some prior to heading out the back door, setting up everyone’s spots at the outside table as she heard the shared laughter reaching towards the front door.

“babe?” both dominic and brian had called out in sync as they entered first and couldn’t find their beloved girlfriend who usually greeted them at the door. mia chuckled softly as she took a sniff of the air and knew the woman was probably setting up for dinner, leading to her and letty rushing towards the kitchen in order to beat the boys to the greeting kisses. tej and roman were quick to realize what the girls were doing and quickly rushed after them leaving dom, brian, and han shaking their head and laughing at the antics of those four.

the trio soon found themselves in the kitchen with the rest of the crew who were trying to help y/n plate the food onto safe to carry dishes and help her carry them outside to the backyard table. “there y’all are! y’all had me worried!” y/n exclaimed with a wide grin and made her way through the crowd of her lovers towards the trio who willingly awaited her arrival kisses and gentle fussing checkovers to ensure that they weren’t hurt. “we’re alright sweetheart, don’t worry your pretty little head over that.” han replied while placing a gentle kiss upon her forehead making the woman gleefully giggle at her man’s actions. the h/c woman was quick to grab at brian’s hand and hold it gently in hers as she quietly with a grin on her face dragged him out the back door of the house with her. dominic and han were quick to follow the pair outside and notice that the rest of the lovable idiots were passing around the drinks that were in the nearby cooler.

“alright which one of y’all wanna say grace?” the woman questioned as roman pulled out her chair as she went to move to do it herself while letting go of brian’s hand as he went to grab himself a drink. she sat down between roman and tej with mia and brian next to the pair of them and letty with dominic and han across from them. y/n found herself filled with so much love in this moment as she watched her lovers all glance at each other and childishly point fingers at each other trying to get the others to say grace.

she simply grasped her hands together and started grace for the lot of them over the dinner that she lovingly prepared for her hungry law-unbinding loves of her life. this time though they all had their heads bowed and only y/n had her eyes shut, all of them stared at her as they all silently wondered how she did it. how did she find the time, energy, and love in her heart to love and provide for them all the very best that she could without any hesistation whatsoever? their beloved girlfriend deserved to be pampered and spoiled after tonight’s dinner and they were going to do just that — just like they always do.

[evermoresversion]

LIAR, BRIAN O'CONNER.

A/N I just watched fast and furious 1 for the first time and oh my god i fell more in love with this beautiful human being.

PAIRING Brian O'Conner x Fem!Reader

TW/TAGS Angsty, betrayal but fluff at the end.

SUMMARY You find out that Brian was an undercover cop who was only investigating you and your family but he really fell for you.

REQUESTS ARE OPEN | BRIAN'S MASTERLIST | MASTERLIST

The Torettos and Letty had met you at a race, Dom and Letty both liked your driving so you competed against her.

When you won and she was about to give you her car keys you told her to keep it, deciding that you were fine that way, so Dom decided he wanted you on his team.

You worked at the Toretto's store and coincidentally over time a blonde with blue eyes came daily for his tuna sandwich.

A horrible sandwich, by the way. Nobody liked the tuna there, Vince's words, not yours.

Mia realizing this, once Brian left after finishing the sandwich, smiled knowingly.

"He likes you." She decreed approaching you, you decided to play dumb like you didn't know what she was talking about.

"What? I don't think so." you denied turning over the magazine you were reading, she took it out of your hands.

"It's more than clear, I mean, have you seen yourself? You're super hot." she added and you denied smiling.

"Maybe it's another reason why he come to eat those horrible sandwiches." you winced at the thought of the first and last time you tried them.

"They're disgusting." both laughed agreeing. "But seriously, he likes you, at least he's attracted to you."

You sighed without saying anything, biting the inside of your cheek.

"Is Mia right?" you thought.

A few days had passed in which Brian had officially joined the team, when he went to the first barbecue that y'all organized every Sunday.

You both sent each other some meaningful looks. He couldn't stop looking at you, and you avoided his gaze out of embarrassment, but with a smile on your lips that let him know that you noticed his looks.

While the boys were watching a movie, you and Mia took care of the dishes even though you insisted that you could alone.

When Brian entered the kitchen Mia looked at you and nudged your shoulder covertly.

And you looked at her trying to tell her to calm down.

"May I help you with something?" He asked more than anything looking at you, and Mia took the opportunity to leave you both alone.

"Yes, actually I have a headache, good night y/n, good night Brian."

"Bye." you murmured going back to washing the dishes.

"Where I come from who cooks doesn't clean." He mentioned and came over to your side, drying the dishes after you washed them.

"I really enjoy doing it." you nodded without looking at him.

"You know what I don't enjoy?" he asked looking directly at you, you hummed to keep him talking. "that you never look me in the eye."

"What? That's not true." You denied, still without looking at him.

"Then do it, look at me." he ordered, and you put your shame aside to do it.

But it didn't last long because shame returned and you looked away, with a smile on your lips.

"See?! You can't do it." he mocked and when you finished washing the dishes you threw a rag in his face.

"It's just that you're too handsome." You said and quickly regretted it, where was your shame now?

"Handsome?" your face was literally a tomato. But that didn't stop him from walking up to you, tucking a lock of your hair behind your ear, and looked at you in the most beautiful way you've ever been looked at in your life. "Then you are gorgeous."

His ocean blue eyes looked into yours and honestly you could drown and die happily.

He leaned towards your face, and a little brush of lips made you join your lips in a kiss that was slow at first, but it became more passionate when he put his hand on the back of your neck to hold you in place.

A few minutes later they separated with a smile on their lips and continued cleaning.

At the end of the day you ended up kissing him and with a pending date.

The whole team was in the Desert Race. It was night and Dom asked you to help them and the others to steal some trucks that had waited too long to do it.

"I feel like something is going to go wrong." you murmured biting your lip anxiously and Letty nodded agreeing with you.

"We shouldn't be doing this without Jesse."

Dom asked you to calm down and so y'all went to start the mission.

The hours passed and you reached the trucks. And it all went horribly wrong.

Vince ended up with a shotgun wound to the abdomen, his arm totally bruised, and Letty was thrown off the road, causing her car to crash.

When Brian and Mia arrived to help y'all, Letty was in Leon's car.

You were next to Vince, on the side of the road. Brian reached for his phone to call an ambulance or something.

But his words left you stunned.

He was a cop. And he hid that from you.

He lied to you.

He looked at you with his blue eyes, hoping you weren't angry or upset with him.

But what you felt was beyond that.

When the call ended you got up to get away from there.

And he followed you.

"y/n! wait."

"What for? So that you continue lying to me?" you faced him, looking into his eyes.

"I'm sorry." I was going to take your hand but you took it away denying.

"You're just a liar." You declared looking at him with tears in your eyes thinking that probably everything he had told you that he felt for you was also a lie.

And he answered you as if he was reading your thoughts.

"Everything I told you, my feelings for you are true." he confessed taking one of your cheeks. "Please believe me."

You denied at first, unable to look at him, but he raised your face by the chin, bringing his face closer to yours. He stopped long enough for you to pull away, but when you didn't, he kissed you.

Just like your first kiss.

And even if you wanted to avoid it you couldn't, you were totally and irrevocably in love with Brian O'Conner.

disclaimer ── evermoresversion © 2023.

[littlespace-imagines]

Hii! Could you do a poly Masky and Hoodie x little reader fluff? 😋

I absolutely love that you write nonsexual littlespace! I may or may not have read multiple fics, multiple times from you 😊

Cg!Masky x little!reader x Cg!Hoodie

Contains: fluff, established relationships, poly!Tim and Hoodie x reader, Tim had a hard time and needs some care, reader gets woken up by these two idiots.

“Scoot ‘em over.”

“No, we can’t they’ll wake up.”

“So what? They’ll fall back to sleep.”

“Dammit, Tim, it’ll take forever to get em back to sleep!” The small argument woke you up more than if the men had just moved you, you rubbed your eyes and them flutter open. The room was still dark, save for a burning candle on the nightstand. The familiar masked men standing there still arguing as you sat up.

“Daddy? Papa? You’re home?” You mutter sleepily, Hoodies gloved hands are the first to ruffle your hair as press a kiss to the side of your head.

“Sure am, pretty. We are home.” Brian replied, shooting a glare to the white-masked clad man who moved to rub his temples.

“Scoot over, baby.” Tim said softly and you obliged, giving them enough space to sit on the bed. They each tugged off their respective masks and Brian reached over and ran a hand through Tim’s hair the stressed man clearly relaxing a bit at the reassuring contact. Tim turned to look at you, tugging his gloves off as his hand instantly sought the soft flesh of your cheeks. Desperate to feel you and remind himself he’s home. He’s free of the operator even for just seconds.

Brian is already moving, changing into pajamas and fluffing the pillows. The two men had a difficult mission, the kind where they wondered if there was any end to the hell they lived in, but the fact you were here waiting to cuddle between them it reassured them they were doing something right. To have your love, your trust, your dependence obviously meant there was still something left of their souls and hearts.

Tim doesn’t remember changing but you saw how Brian helped him, you saw Brian whisper sweet things in his ear as he helped Tim lay down, you instantly cuddled into his side bringing Tim back in pilot of his body, a weary smile crossing his face.

“You guys think I can sleep in the middle tonight?” Tim asks, you and Brian both look at him.

“Tim, you don’t even gotta ask.” Brain says and you nod, you can feel Tim’s body relax and he nods.

“Just checking.” He mumbles and you lay your head on his shoulder.

“I just… need my loves.” He mumbles, a kiss pressing into your forehead as Brian slides into bed, receiving his forehead kiss with a hum. Brian throws one of his firm arms over the both of you, guiding you all into a laying position.

“And your loves need you, Tim.” Brian mumbled into the other man’s hair, he felt you nod into Tim’s shoulder.

“Goodnight Daddy, Goodnight Papa, love you both.” You mumbled sleepily.

“Sweet dreams, sweetie, love you so much.”

“G’night baby. I love you too.”

You hear before Brian blows out the candle, the room washing dark with only the sound of your breathing filling it until you all drift to sleep cuddled up.

[johnlennonswifey]

Since I haven’t been posting, I’ve decided I’ll make a little list of some of my favorite fics!!

🎸= All time fav

——

THE BEATLES-

John Lennon

70s!John x Reader 🎸

Mustache John x Reader

Paul McCartney

Paul x Reader (love letter) 🎸

Paul x Reader (Part 2 of 2)

George Harrison

Jealous!George x Reader 🎸(literally my fav fic ever)

Comfort!George x Reader

George x Reader (somewhat Friends to lovers?)

Ringo Starr

Teddy Boy!Ringo x Reader

Ringo x Assistant!Reader

Ringo x Reader (fluffy)

Ringo x Reader (Married, dinner with parents)🎸

QUEEN-

Roger Taylor

Roger x Reader (childhood friends to lovers)🎸

Roger x Reader (fluff)

Roger x Reader (fluff and more,(Roger gets hurt)) 🎸

John Deacon

John x Reader (John is readers handyman, I love this fic with all my heart pls read it)🎸

John x Reader (Series, 6/10 parts are out, I definitely recommend reading)🎸

Brian May

Brian x Reader (fluff)

Brian x Reader (Queen becomes a Hit)🎸

Brian x Reader (fluff)

Blurbs-

Beatles Blurb

[sister-lucifer]

Hiya, hope you're having a pog day <3

I wanted to make a request if possible (also if you're comfortable with it, if not, feel free to ignore this ask!! no worries)

nsfw headcanons for Hoodie and Masky with a trans masc s/o (with top surgery scars)

Masky + Hoodie w/ a trans masc partner who has top surgery scars 

Masky + Hoodie x Reader (separately) 

Genre: Fluff + NSFW, headcanons 

Content/warnings: There’s a lot of talk of reader’s body but it’s all positive, Tim is insecure about his scars, chest + tummy kisses, tooth rotting fluff AND some soft romantic NSFW 😌 

Like my writing? I take requests! NSFW or SFW for any fandoms in my bio (request rules + masterlist in pinned post)!

Also, please reblog! it’s free, takes two seconds, and really helps me out 

Feedback is encouraged and appreciated:)

Not fully proofread! Let me know if you see any errors!

A/N: Sorry if you wanted like…hardcore nasty NSFW, this is really sweet 😔 

Tim Wright/Masky 

Although I don’t personally headcanon Tim as trans (though i definitely enjoy trans tim content 👌😋), he certainly has his fair share of scars 

They’re mostly on his arms and hands

Some are from fights, others are from miscellaneous accidents, some have been there as long as he can remember and he’s not even sure where they came from

But theres one thing he knows for sure:

He HATES when people point them out 

He can’t really explain it, he just hates having attention drawn to them 

You may not feel the same way, but even if you say you don’t mind he’ll be careful not to point them out 

That’s not to say you won’t catch him staring when he thinks you’re not looking, though 

The scars just look so…natural, on you 

Like they’ve always been there 

He forgets that they’re scars, really 

He’s not sure why he feels so different about scars on you than he does on him 

The longer he’s with you the less he notices your scars anymore 

And the less he notices his own too 

Over time he becomes less insecure about them as he watches you not only live with but accept and maybe even embrace your scars 

And there’s something he loves about being able to run his hand down your bare chest, the marks on his hand matching with your scars 

Especially when he finds you in bed with him, climbing on top of him and straddling his lap 

He cant stop himself from reaching out and pulling your shirt off, his large hands splaying out over your torso as he admires you, feeling your heartbeat thump behind your ribs 

If your position allows him to see your chest, don’t be surprised if he can’t pull his eyes away 

He’s not very talkative during sex, but he’s always sure to remind you how handsome you are 

He knows sex can sometimes trigger dysphoria, and he doesn’t want you to forget that you’re his sweet boy, forever and always

You can thank him for the praise by taking one of his scarred hands and pressing a soft kiss to it, a silent reassurance that his feelings about you are not unrequited 

Brian Thomas/Hoodie 

Brian, on the other hand, is very vocal about how attractive he finds your scars 

Although he’s got a few of his own, they’re generally not very noticeable 

And even if someone did point them out, he’d simply laugh them off 

So he feels comfortable telling you how much he loves your scars 

They’re a reminder of how strong you are, he says 

It’s not easy embracing your true trans self in this world, and you should wear your scars with pride 

He’s got an artistic streak, so don’t be surprised if he asks to draw on them 

He may even suggest getting a cool tattoo to emphasize them! 

Like barbed wire or a flower chain or something 

But if you don’t want that, he’s perfectly content simply being allowed to run his fingers over your scars 

He’ll often absentmindedly begin tracing them whenever you’re laying together, sometimes not even realizing he’s doing it 

He loves to kiss your chest too 

He’s a romantic type, what can I say 🤷 

He just loves to give your scars all the gentle attention they deserve, he can’t help it 

Don’t be surprised if his hands find your scars as if they have a mind of their own, always wandering to your chest whenever you’re standing at the counter or sitting on the couch with him 

And don’t be surprised if those wandering hands lead to more than just gentle touches 

If you allow him his way during sex, he’ll always insist on having you on your back 

He’ll pay extra attention to your chest, and i don’t just mean your scars (although they certainly aren’t ignored) 

He’s much more vocal than Tim, a constant stream of praises and reassurances spilling from his mouth and he drones on and on about how handsome you are and how lucky he is to have such a beautiful boy like you to take care of 

You’re an absolute beauty to him, and he’s going to make sure he tells you every chance he gets  

Brian Thomas: The Dysphoria Miracle Cure 

[the-s1lly-corner]

Creepypasta Masterlist Vol. 4

It's that time again! The previous masterlist is full, if not nearly full! But I have some news to share! Now that I'm writing romantic for a few characters, they will now be given their own sections in the masterlist! Hooray! There will still be an other section for characters, whether me not writing romantic for them or them not being very popular! As per usual you can find the other creepypasta volumes in my pinned under the masterlist section! you can also find the rules there so if youre interested, give them a read! do note that as of the day im writing this (5/24/24), i work on a queue system so be aware it may take a while for your request to become public! you can always ask what day to expect it! with all that being said! p.s. if you're ever unsure for what creepypastas i will write for, just ask! putting it out there though that i do not write for offender, julius, or clockwork (clockwork is just personal stuff for me, as far as im aware there isnt much problematic with her or the creator) (dont quote me on that though, because i dont keep up with the creators all that much AS OF AUGUST 29TH THIS LIST IS COMPLETE

Multi

Various crps x sculptor reader

Various x reader who does horror pod costs

Pocky w/ various crps

Various x streamer reader

Various crushing on the reader 1/2

Various crushing on the reader 2/2

Ej, masky,hoodie x picky eater reader

Sleepover at slender mansion

various crps x reader with moles and freckles

various x reader who has leg pains

various x reader who struggles with self care

slenderman and lj x reader who sleeps a lot

various x reader who has anxiety

ej and nina x reader who has psoriasis

petnames remake

various x slasher fan!reader

ticci toby, masky, and tim getting comfort from the reader

masky and hoodie when their child gets hurt protecting them

ej and ticci toby x ballerina!reader

calling various crps pretty boy

various crps w/ reader who struggles with self care 2

masky and hoodie x pregnant reader

various x caseoh!reader

leaving lipstick marks on them 1/2

Making a pillow fort w/ various

leaving lipstick marks on them 2/2

drawing each other 1/2

drawing each other 2/2

ej and brian x oblivious reader

giving lj masky and splendor kisses before going out

carrying/being carried when injured (jeff, masky, toby, lj)

giving various crps flowers

getting them treats (slender, nina, lj, bloody painter)

kissing ninas, bloody painters, and maskys scars

various x reader who cant cook

putting your hands in the pockets when youre cold

various crps x reader who can take their head off

various x picky eater!reader

kissing jane and nina

various x injured reader who doesnt realize theyre injured

laughing jack eyeless jack and puppeteer celebrating the readers birthday after its forgotten

masky hoodie and ticci toby x lactose intolerant reader

LJ, masky, hoodie x reader who has a sweet tooth

jeff nina and hoodie x bimbo!reader

dancing w/ slender splendor and bloody painter

Slenderman

x angel reader

x male immortal reader

i n p (angst alphabet)

y t ♥ (fluff alphabet)

Splendorman

n s x fluff alphabet

Laughing Jack

body swap prompt

X scene reader

X mime reader

X reader who dyes their hair a lot

X reader with curly hair

x reader who is clingy and has abandonment issues

accidentally making sensitive reader cry

x ball jointed doll reader

x bubbly trad goth reader

Eyeless Jack

X cute reader who likes sweets

X vampire reader

X reader who dresses in menhera/yami kawaii

x popular!fem!reader (human/collage au/pre monster jack)

x demon reader who eats raw animals

saving him from the cult and life after

w y s (fluff alphabet)

x reader who has father issues

x reader who is a professional figure skater

x sick reader

x ftm reader w/ dysphoria

boo, haunted house, and snacks (fall prompts)

Jeff the Killer

Platonic jeff x teen reader

X slasher fan reader

z d r (fluff alphabet)

w e y (fluff alphabet)

k j z (fluff alphabet)

Ticci Toby

X mom friend reader

reuniting with him

r y l (fluff alphabet)

v x i (fluff alphabet)

toby x fem!reader except youre both oblivious

scary movie, haunted house, and wrapped up prompts

c s w (fluff alphabet)

Masky

X fem lead singer reader

Hoodie

Puppeteer

Pup x reader who has abandonment issues

j p x (fluff alphabet)

Other

Nina x reader who reads fanfics

ben drowned x reader playing animal crossing together (platonic)

ben drowned x reader who hates him

platonic ben x older sibling figure reader

bloody painter x pregnant reader

c f h w/ bloody painter (fluff alphabet)

bloody painter x reader who has a small eye

s u v w/ ben (platonic alphabet)

kissing bloody painter after the first date

[wandamaxim0f]

Brian 'Otis' Zvonecek one-shot — Peace

Words: 1.2k

Otis x Female reader

TW: the tiniest bit of angst and lots of fluff! Also: pregnancy, anxiety, mentions of panic attacks

A/N: finally dared to post this one! I really like how it ended up, but please keep in mind english is not my first language so there may be some mistakes. I wrote this one with Peace by Taylor Swift in mind, enjoy!

Taglist: @winchesterszvonecek

And you know that I'd (...) give you my wild, give you a child

Your hands were shaking as you went to grab your cup of freshly brewed tea, the chamomile smell soothing you before you could even take a sip. You did your best to focus on the way the tea tasted, and how the warmth went through your mouth and down your throat, really trying to keep yourself grounded and not give into the panic attack that you felt around the corner.

Silly panic attack. You felt the clink of your wedding band against the beige cup. Your wedding ring, of all things. You two were married, and had been for almost a full year. Turning your head, you found the fridge with all of its magnets and notes. Some were sweet and loving, both in your handwriting and his, knowing some days one left for shift without seeing the other.

“I love you”; “Stay safe”; “Come home to me” were some of the messages the both of you had left, a reminder you had someone waiting for you after your shift at the Intelligence Unit, and he had someone waiting for him after his shift at firehouse 51.

A photo from your wedding day caught your eye. You two were married. He wouldn't leave. He wouldn't step back. He had literally signed up for this. He had scribbled down his signature on a paper that was securely put away on a folder full of important documents, and he had vowed to love you until death do you part.

The door opening startled you, even when you had woken up early to talk to him. Not that you could really sleep, anxiety keeping you awake and turning and tossing in the bed sheets; the smell that came from his shirt that you were wearing doing nothing to calm down your mind.

“Baby” called Otis, as soon as he closed the door and saw you sitting down at the kitchen island. He knew something was going on. Usually, on your days off, he would just get home and find you asleep in bed, not drinking tea in the kitchen.

Immediately, he dropped his bag and his arms found your figure, pulling you into his warm embrace and stepping in between your legs, holding you to his chest as his hands caressed your back in the way only he knew how.

“Are you okay?” he asked, already knowing you weren’t, by the way you clung to him, embracing his body with your arms and legs, and let out a shaky breath against his chest. Still, he gave you the choice to not speak about what had you up on your day off, not until you were ready.

You split from his hug, knowing you wouldn't speak if you found refuge between his strong arms. “We need to talk” you said, finding his now worried brown eyes.

Otis swallowed audibly, and a neutral expression took over his face, trying to hide the fact he was terrified. Were you going to leave him? Was your marriage over? Or did it still stand a chance? Had he messed up? Forgotten a date? Forgotten your birthday? Valentine's? Anniversary? He quickly crossed those options, your anniversary was still a month away, he already had the reservations for the weekend getaway done, and your birthday had been three months ago, he had gotten you that necklace you liked. And February was still away, so there was no chance he had forgotten Valentine’s.

“I’m sorry” he blurted out, his heart shattering at the idea of letting you down, of disappointing you “I don’t know what I did, but I will make it up to you. Please don’t leave me” he was not above begging, not when it may make the difference between you staying in his life or giving up on your marriage. Not when you were the single best thing that had ever happened to him.

Your heart melted into your chest, and tears gathered in your eyes. His forced neutral expression switched into a worried one when a tear escaped your right eye, and his thumb was quick to catch it. Whatever it was, it could not be good if you were this distraught. He had seen you in some of your worst moments, and he could count on one hand the times he had witnessed such distress in your pretty eyes.

“Babe?” he called, preparing himself to beg you to talk to him if it came down to it. You were worried, and he wanted, he needed to help you out.

“I’m pregnant” you whispered, your voice so low, Otis thought he had misheard you.

“You... what?” He exhaled, trying as hard to not let his hand find your lower abdomen, since he wasn’t sure you were happy.

Sure, the two of you had discussed starting a family, but that conversation had been held ages ago, at the early stages of your relationship. He remembered you saying you wanted to have kids, and how that was a deal breaker to you; and he remembered getting home and pestering Joe about how he had found the one.

Had you not seen his small smile, you would've freaked out. But he was smiling, and his eyes were shining with tears, so that was a good sign, right?

“I’m pregnant” you repeated, louder this time, and allowing your own hand to find your nonexistent bump.

Otis let out a high pitched scream, before hugging you tightly. His arms pulled you closer and out of the kitchen stool, picking you up and spinning you around the living area, excitement washing over him. Finally, he put you down, and his hands cradled your face, whipping away any tears.

“We’re having a baby” he whispered, happiness dripping from his words, before he started peppering your face with kisses.

“We’re having a baby” you repeated, giggling at his affection, your hands now holding his biceps.

You couldn’t understand how you could’ve been that panicked, your husband wanted desperately to be a father, but only with you. Now you let yourself feel the happiness that you had put away on a cage in your heart, and the world felt more colorful than ever.

The next morning, as you untangled from your still asleep husband, you made your way to the kitchen to get some breakfast. A new note on the fridge caught your eye, and butterflies came alive in your stomach.

Last night, Otis and you had sat down and tried to guess an estimated date in which your baby would join you, a date he had scribbled down on a piece of paper before adding “Best day ever”. Next to it, a note he must've put up while you headed towards the bedroom “Get on desk duty”.

Years ago, the idea of desk duty would’ve killed you, hating the idea of being away from the action and the adrenaline it provided, but now you were beyond happy to spend your whole day at the district.

“You two were leaving without saying goodbye?” Otis’s sleepy voice called out as he walked into the kitchen. Without saying another word, he sank to his knees and kissed your abdomen “Leaving without saying goodbye to your dad is actually kind of rude. Guess your momma and I will have to teach you some manners once you’re out of there, bub” he spoke, his hands firm on your hips.

You laughed, a hand coming to caress his hair, and he looked at you with nothing but adoration and love shining in his eyes. How could you have been so worried? You would be okay. The three of you would be okay.

[rogertaylorshbb]

"its a kind of magic" Roger Taylor fanfic

This wonderful fanfic idea was requested by @missbohemianqueen [sorry if it seems rushed or if there is any mistakes!]

So far the whole month has been a range of excitement for you. Just last week you and Roger had gotten engaged, him proposing in a fancy restaurant, and just after that you got offered a new job position. 

Everything seemed to be perfect but one thing, you and Roger seemed to have no alone time. He would be recording queens albums, doing music videos and you would be at work. 

You sat in your office swirling around in your wheely chair with a pen dangling in your mouth. “Hello ms.y/l/n” your boss's voice bombed suddenly

You jumped a little and quickly straightened up your posture,taking the pen out of your mouth and rolling to move to your desk which you were far away from.

“How may I help you?” you said trying to sound as professional as possible. Your boss rolled his eyes “you're allowed to leave early today” he stated. Your eyebrows furrowed and you got worried “your- your cutting my hours?”.

“No” he tutted “there's an event, im sending everyone home early”. You sighed in relief nodding your head. 

You walked out of your work building holding your bag while your white heels made a loud and sharp click clack sound along the street. 

You walked over to your car rummaging for your keys. Normally you leave work at 5 and it was only 1. 

You scratched the top of your head wondering what to do, that's when the perfect idea popped into your head.

"Why not go over to the music video queen is recording”. You smiled and started your car. 

You walked out of your car into the filming studio. As straight as you walked in you saw a bunch of people. Some holding cameras, doing lighting, doing makeup, setting tables up, really just a bunch of stressed people running around. 

You stood there confused since no one looked familiar. As you started to turn on your heel trying to find someone you did know a random guy started walking up to you waving from far away. 

The random guy was wearing a newsboy hat, a long coat, and looked dirty. You didn't get a good look at him and instantly started to power walk away awkwardly putting your head down. He caught up to you, placing his hand on your shoulder. You turned around, whipping your shoulder out of his hand “hello?” you asked, but your confused face slipped away and turned into a smile. It was roger.  

“It's just me,” he laughed. “Oh- i didn't even recognize you” you mumbled embarrassingly. 

“Why are you- dressed- like…that” you cocked your head to the side looking him up and down. 

“I'm playing a homeless person….what? You don't like it?” he grinned. You shook your head “they put dust all over your face!”. “It's not permanent,” Roger laughed assuredly. 

You followed Roger to a table behind the filming crew that was full of drinks and food. Deacy and brian were there picking at the food, and Freddie was chugging water. “y/ns here!” Roger called out. “Oh what a nice surprise!” Freddie cheered, coming over to hug you. 

You hugged him back and chuckled. You saw brian and deacy come up to you too, “hello y/n” deacy smiled with food still in his mouth, and brian gave you a small hug “did you get off of work early” he questioned. You nodded “there was an event. 

“AY ENOUGH CHIT CHAT” the director called out “BRIAN AND JOHN CMON” the director waved his hands to signal John and brian over. They both rolled their eyes finishing off their drinks before shuffling away. “Well, I should be off now,” Freddie huffed. “Noooo stay” you frowned. “y/n as much as I wish, I don't have any scenes left and frankly my throat hurts like a bitch, I should get some rest- I'll be back later and we can all get some drinks' ' ' he smiled, hugging you goodbye.

After, Roger grabbed your wrist slightly signalling you to follow him. You walked behind him as he led you into the room with all the props. “You guys have a lot of props” you chuckled looking around.

“Shh, we aren't allowed to be back here” he whispered with a smirk. “Then why are we here-” you whispered before you were cut off by roger jumping back hiding behind a wall. 

You both laughed trying to hide away from the crew. “Ok coast is clear '' you said peeking behind the wall.

You both ran into a corner with furniture props. You propped yourself on top of a desk and Roger hummed, sliding his hands to your waist. As his smug face got closer to yours He started to kiss you slowly as you flicked off his hat so your hands could grab at his hair. 

The kiss got more passionate and aggressive as he started to unbutton your shirt. “Wait” you laughed, pulling back. “Won't they hear?”. “Not if you can control your moaning” he teased leaning back into the kiss.

He eventually got your t-shirt off by throwing it to the side, unclipping your bra in the process. Roger let his hands roam your upper body as he laid small kisses along your collarbone. You wrapped your hands around his back trying to get closer before you frustratingly threw his coat off him. You hurryingly slid your skirt and underwear off making roger grin with satisfaction as he pulled his pants down to his ankles. He wrapped his hand around your stomach roughly pulling you closer to him. 

He gently let his fingertips feel your clit before he lined himself up to fuck you. “You okay?” he questioned seeing the worried look on your face. “Yea, just- what if we get caught” you sighed. “Would you like to stop?” he looked at you with his sincere blue eyes. You shook your head reassuring him. 

He slowly began to enter you, you bit hard down on your lower lip trying to be quiet. Once he thrusted into you, you gasped loudly putting a hand over your mouth. Roger rubbed his hand on the side of your waist “shh, don't want anyone to hear you” he whispered. You nodded as he thrusted into you again this time harder. Your whole body is filled with chivers and an intense feeling to scream his name. “Fuck roger, this- fuck” you moaned as quiet as you could.

“I know, I know, just try to be as quiet as you can” he cooed, running his fingers through your hair. 

Everytime he thrusted in you making you lose sense of reality all you could do was grasp his skin and pull at his hair.

As you breathed heavily into his neck you felt your body getting closer and closer to reaching your orgasm. “Keep- going” your shaking voice trembled. He went faster and faster, his hands pulling you closer to him, you tugged at his hair as you gasped from your release. 

“Fuck- y/n- jesus” Roger groaned quietly  following his release. You both stayed close to each other, trying to regain your strength. 

“I love you,” Roger whispered, placing hair behind your ear. You looked into his eyes seeing his toothy smile. “I love you too”.

@knxfesup @sarcastic-sourwolf @missbohemianqueen

[mvltisstuff]

Eddie Diaz coma fic if possible? The reader gets shot like eddie in 4x14 and ends up in a coma. Lots of angst, heartbreak if possibly but also fluff too please. 🩶

hold on to me - e.d

summary: request :)

eddie diaz x reader

gif from @agentoutofdiaz

a/n: guys i def just ate my history final up and left no crumbs, enjoy this request 🤌🤌

the gunshot passed right through y/n’s stomach. the massive bang had ricocheted throughout the street and off the buildings, every crouching down as an instinct to the echoing noise. she immediately felt the impact it had right in the center of her abdomen. she brought her hand slowly down, pulling it away to see the overwhelming amount of blood on her fingers. she brought her head back up weakly, before falling onto the concrete.

eddie was held back by buck, who yanked him under a wall. he watched as his girlfriend was thrown to the stained ground, the blood pouring out of her. this couldn’t be a mistake, it was a perfect shot. she was saving someone’s life, and an evil person wanted to take hers. eddie thought he was dreaming. he thought he would be shaken awake by y/n and she would be next to him without a bullet inside of her.

eddie was screaming her name over and over again, and she heard every single time. she wanted to respond, but the blood gurgling in her mouth made it near impossible. she turned her head on the ground to look at her boyfriend. he was laying on the ground, looking directly at her.

he couldn’t contain himself anymore, he had to get out there and save her. “y/n!” he yelled. “hey, y/n?” he pulled her head up as her breathing slowed down. “come here, come help me!” he shouted at his coworkers, who came piling over and putting her into the truck. eddie sat by her head, cradling it gently. a part of him wanted her to pass out, to not have to feel this pain anymore. when she finally lost consciousness from the strain, he panicked as he still wanted to see her eyes, completely contradicting his earlier thought. buck had been applying pressure to the wound, switching out the cloths multiple times as they were drenched with y/n’s blood.

he carried her out of the truck, yelling at the doctors to help her. they took her and placed her on a gurney, turning her on her side. “y/n y/l/n, female, GSW to the abdomen, severe bleeding, may have hit a major organ but pulse is steady. wasn’t through and through, bullets still in here,” he spat out rapidly at the mob of nurses and doctors. as she was wheeled away, the tears in eddie’s eyes were reappearing, dripping down his face. buck had pulled him into an embrace, trying to erase the violent sight in front of him. the constant reminder was the her very own blood on their uniforms.

y/n woke up in her old apartment in her home city, still recalling the smell and feeling of her old rooms. she stretched out of bed, looking around. the confusion in her head was very abnormal. she moved to LA years ago, and her lease was up. she knew this place like the back of her hand, one of her first places that she was able to escape from home. her home life wasn’t bad, but certainly not memorable.

she heard a knock on her door, stepping out of the room to pull it open. in front of her stood her siblings behind her parents. “hi, sweetie!” her mother exclaims. y/n doesn’t recognize the change in attitude.

“hey, mom, what are you all doing here?”

“we had lunch plans, remember? it’s ok if you forgot, you’re under a lot of pressure.”

“w-we did? i mean since i’m visiting from LA?”

“visiting? from california! how hard did you hit your head?” her mom laughs, walking into the apartment, her brother and sister following in with her father.

she sat down on the couch slowly, feeling awkward at how kind her parents were being. she picked up the glass of water on the table next to her. “did something happen?”

“no, just coming to see you and brian, where is he?”

“brian?”

“your…fiancé?” y/n chokes on her water, wiping it off her face.

“my what?” she asks.

“honey, now you’re really scaring me.”

“i’m not engaged, who the hell is brian? where’s eddie?”

“y/n, eddie left, remember?” y/n remains silent. she knows eddie would never leave her. he’s been left before, and he could never put that weight on someone’s shoulders.

back in the hospital, eddie sits with a recovering y/n. her waist was wrapped with a bandage, several IV’s in her arms pumping the drugs into her system. the tube in her throat was forcing the air into her lungs, being unable to do it alone.

a coma. the state of deep unconsciousness. the state that lasts for an unknown amount of time. eddie has heard the words thousands of times being a paramedic. but it doesn’t feel the same when someone you love has been purposely separated from her body.

he wondered what she was thinking, or even if she knew he was there. “i, um,” he starts, stuttering. “i don’t know if you’re there, completely, but you are coming back. i know you are, because you have to. there are too many people relying on you, y/n. i need you to survive or i don’t know if i’ll be able to. so i’m begging you, for the sake of how much i love you, please wake up,” he looks back at her sleeping figure, figuring it’s no use. he just sits in the chair, staring at her condition and the monitors.

“no, eddie wouldn’t leave me, i live in los angeles and i am a firefighter,” y/n speaks harshly to her parents.

“c’mon, y/n. what kind of crazy dream did you have?” her brother says, shoving his face full of food. “i think you need to go back to bed.”

“shut up,” she tells him. “i am not where im supposed to be.” she didn’t say the one detail that gave it away. the one that she’s well aware of. her parents have never been that nice to her, at least not as much as they are in this reality. she kind of loves it, but certainly not as much as eddie. “i am a firefighter,” the memories of the previous day came back to her, the images flashing in her eyes before they faded away again. “i… i was hurt.”

suddenly, y/n has convinced her parents to take her to the psych ward. almost, but they bring her to the ER instead. she must’ve hit her head or something, but y/n knows she is not supposed to be here.

she sits on the bed, her mother in the chair next to her. she looks around, trying to figure out a way to escape. “mom, can you get me some water, please?”

“of course, sweetie. i’ll be back.” she leaves a kiss on her forehead and exiting to get her daughter a drink. y/n takes her opportunity to leave. not the hospital, but the ER is not where she can be. she sprints around, desperately looking for a sign of herself. she goes the the ORs, the regular rooms, and finally she stops in the ICU. she looks in each of the rooms, every single one being dark and empty until she comes across one in particular.

her frail body lay in the bed, with the muffled sounds of doctors speaking and beeping. she looked so weak, and watching herself not be able to fight back against the storm broke every part of her. she stands in front of the doors before hearing a voice behind her. the same voice she fell in love with years ago, and the one that saved her heart and stole it like a thief. y/n whips around at the quick sound of her name. “do you think you should be there?” the duplicate of eddie says.

“why am i here, and not there?”

“because that wound on your body is not the only thing that needs to be healed. you’ve imagined a perfect world. and this is death, y/n.”

“why are you here?”

“i’m your imagination. because if you go back, you don’t know what’s going to happen in a few years. that’s the point of this.”

“because i don’t know if you’ll be there?”

“because you want to be loved forever. and there’s a guarantee at this place,” eddie explains. y/n looks at him calmly, but confusion is written all over her face.

“you love me. i know you do. you said you would forever, and you don’t here. why are you even talking to me? why are there no dead people or something?”

eddie steps closer to her, looking down into her eyes as she stares back at herself. “you want to be loved by these people. why do you think i’m just showing up now?”

“don’t play this game with me, diaz. i do not know why i’m here or why you are here because nothing makes any sense!”

“you said the answer yourself. you know, you know,” he repeats. y/n is scared. she’s a fearless person, but dealing with this alternate life has shown her a whole new side. the world is an uncertain place and no one knows what’s on the other side until you get there. once you’re on that side, there is no going back. that’s it.

the repetition of something she knows runs through her frightened mind at a hundred miles an hour. from the moment she entered that fire station and saw his beautiful face looking at her. she knew she’d be loved. over and over again, he’d told her. and it was enough.

what felt like minutes to y/n was a week to eddie. a week of the prolonged unconsciousness from y/n with no signs of living other than her steady heartbeat. the doctors said it was a good sign, but until eddie saw her eyes again, he didn’t believe it. he’s not one to take something for granted, but if he’d known he would never see her mesmerizing irises again, he would’ve never looked away.

the team of surgeons and interns had piled back into the room, attempting to remove the tube. eddie’s stomach ached from the anxiety of this being her last shot. it was now or never, and he despised that he couldn’t control it. if the tube is removed and she takes a breath on her own, there is a high likelihood that she’ll wake up in the next few hours.

eddie prays to any god that might listen to him, begging, almost on his hands and knees that he will be able to hold her again. when the harsh rise of her chest puffs up, eddie’s own drops. he releases the breath and all his pain, sending it away with her coma.

after the dark clouds rolled over, the sun of y/n’s smile came out. she was giggling and happy, and no one would think that she was just in the condition she was in. the doctors have finally cleared her to go home, no longer needing medical supervision and observation. she was regaining strength at an impressive rate which was optimistic to eddie. several visits from christopher and carla, along with her co-workers had happened over the week of her spell. eddie helped her gather her stuff, still needing help to lift things and stand. the second she tries to stand on her own, eddie is there in the speed of light.

“hey, hey, don’t stand up yet,” he says, walking over to the straining woman on the hospital bed. “if you push yourself it’ll be worse.”

“i’ll be ok, eddie,” she says a little passive-aggressively. eddie knows how hard the recovery stage can be, especially when you have a lot of people nagging you about it. she loves to work more than anything. it’s her mission to save people and make the worst day of their life as easy as it can be. y/n’s clearly frustrated with herself and her situation, but she never wants to make eddie feel bad about his good intentions. “shit, i’m sorry.”

“amor, i told you not to apologize. this trauma is yours to carry, and it sucks. i just want to make this easier for you.”

“i just, i saw you and my whole family. in my… coma,” she cringes at the word. “they loved me, eddie. they really cared instead of putting on a face. i considered staying. but you had, um,” eddie places a reassuring arm around her shoulder, silently letting her know it’s ok to say what’s on her mind. “you left me and i had no clue.”

“god, you know i would never do that, right?”

“i do, it just felt so real. the way you looked at me in that reality and how couldn’t say you loved me hurt so bad and i had to come back to you.”

“i love you, so much,” eddie touches his forehead to hers. “i would never, ever leave you. i couldn’t imagine my life without you when you were sleeping.”

eddie looks into her eyes. he takes in every speck of color, and the movement of her pupils. his hands wander across her body before pulling her in, helping her get a sense that he is real. the knowledge that he is not going anywhere away from her until their last breath.

[swmzq]

MASTERLIST

(requests are open)

footballers

-joão félix

-paulo dybala Juno

-pablo gavi

-ferran torres please, please, please

-pedri gonzález

-fermín lopez

-sergio ramos

-jude bellingham

-ruben dias

-neymar jr

-kylian mbappe

-others

celebrities

-taylor swift Good luck,babe!

-chappell roan

-zendaya

-glen powell

-drew starkey

-lana del rey

-austin butler

-cillian murphy

-jacob elordi

-timothée chalamet

-80s roger taylor

-80s brian may

-others

characters

-borhap!roger taylor

-tyler owens

-borhap!john deacon

-eric(a quiet place: day one)

-neil lewis

-felix catton

-oliver quick

-others

what I’ll write

-smut

-fluff

-angst

-fem x fem

-fem x male

-gn!reader x oc

-headcanons

-fics

-drabbles

-love triangles

what I don’t write

-oc x oc

-homophobia

-threesome (I have nothing against it but I’m just not good at writing smut like this)

-incest

-racism

-rape

-piss kink

-etc



that’s it bye for now!

[another-bryk-in-the-wall]

Coast (Brian May x f!reader)

i am being cringe fail and writing rpf cause my brain is empty but my heart is full of love for the space poodle.

please enjoy. or don't. i'm not the police.

warning: tooth rotting fluff, rpf

words: 1000

*

“That’s it. I have enough. Pack your things, love, we are gonna drive out.”

Two days ago, Brian had come home from yet another exhausting trip. This time the band had to venture to New York for discussion of new songs, new albums, new tours, new this, new that… Everything new, produce this, do that, and not a single ‘thank you’ was muttered for making the company millions in revenue. They didn’t even book the band some fancy hotel rooms. No no no, they had to save money too. And the worst for Brian? The city. The light pollution was so bad, he couldn’t even see the night sky from his tiny balcony. The whole city smelt like weed, alcohol and piss mixed with vomit. Everyone at the subway stations looked like they’d rather throw themselves on the rails than spend another day in the office. Charming.

To put it short, Brian was pissed when he came back home.

A mutual friend who owned a bit of land an hour and a half away from London was called, arrangements were made quickly, and before you knew it, you were on the road with a stressed Brian. He needed nature so badly, longing for it after only seeing concrete and asphalt these past few weeks. His ears were longing for the songs of the birds early in the morning, maybe even getting woken up by a rooster. His nose was longing for something different than the stench of the city. His eyes were longing for a bright green landscape. But most of all, he was longing for you.

Thankfully the weather forecast seemed good, unusually good for England. On the way to the cabin, it didn’t rain a single drop, the only sound heard was the singing of Brian to the songs on the radio.

At this moment, you mean everything

You in that dress, oh my thoughts I confess

Verge on dirty

“Look Brian, if you have some needs, you have to speak them out loud.”, you couldn’t help yourself, teasing your love next to you. A smile spread over his face and he just had to laugh. Everything you said and did made him so happy. The rose coloured glasses hadn’t gone away, even after so many years.

“Not here, not in the car! Imagine someone sees us and takes a picture!”, Brian faked shock, but you both knew you were even wilder when Queen wasn’t that big. So many fucks in bar bathrooms, behind bars, whenever a few minutes of passion fit into his busy schedule. One time you even did it in a studio, but never again after Freddie complained about the wet spot he accidentally sat on. Oh no, you had spilt your coke before, you had quickly apologized and got a towel to clean the seat. For whatever reason, Freddie believed you. Roger’s quirked eyebrow and his elbow into Brian’s side spoke of a different chain of thought. John was just disappointed, but that was nothing new with the antics you two pulled from time to time.

“You got a point there.”

*

From the cabin, you were able to hear the sea, a sound Brian had missed just as much. Unpacking and getting to know the place you were in, you both were pleasantly surprised. The cabin consisted of one main room, a kitchen, a bathroom and a bedroom. And a small conservatory, big enough to dine in, with a small couch facing the sea.  It was enough for you, enough to calm down and relax. Enough to get away from the craziness that is your life.

After a quick errand run into the nearest town, evening drew close. Together you had cooked a pasta dish Brian loved, some creamy sauce with broccoli and even more herbs. Dinner was served in the conservatory, the stars as witness to how good the pasta tasted.

“Love…”, Brian started halfway through the previously silent meal, piquing her attention, “Could you imagine living like this? Out in the countryside, around us barely anything but nature? Maybe own a few animals?”

You thought for a moment, imagining yourself in this situation. Brian was looking after the sheep you had bought together, bleating heard from all over. For whatever reason he was shirtless and sweaty as he commanded the herd, making sure they were safe and sound. Oh,  dominant, shirtless, sweaty man, even better, YOUR man…

“Earth to (Y/N), Earth to (Y/N), are you still here?”, Brian’s laughter ripped you out of your thoughts, joining him in his laughter.

“Sorry, I just imagined you as a hot farmer!” “Hot farmer! You think that’s something I could pull off?”

“Of course! Brian, my dear, you would make a brilliant farmer! Even better than what Paul McCartney did back in the 70s.”

“Hmmm…maybe? Who knows…”

“And if you suck at farming, we’ll dye your hair white and put you into the stable with the sheep. It’s not like there’d be much of a difference.”

“Hey!”

*

The morning sun tickled your nose, shining through the cracks of the curtains. Despite having two blankets, Brian managed to ditch his own and got under yours, his arms wrapped around your middle. He was a human radiator, spreading warmth and comfort no matter where you were. You smiled at the feeling of pure love spreading through your body and moved into his touch, your body melting against his. It felt as if you were made for each other in every possible sense. The familiar feeling of Brian next to you could calm every bad thought, as they didn’t matter as long as you were with him. The familiarity of him was something you longed and missed so much when he was on tour or whatever trip they had to do for the band, yet there was something exciting and new whenever he came back. Every tour brought something new out of him, something new that you were excited to find and figure out. If this trip was the same? You had yet to discover.