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the-bau-quinjet · 4 years ago

Text

Tolerate It

Summary: Reader struggles with feeling like Hotch is growing distant.

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x gn!Reader

Category: fluff/angst

Warnings: the reader has thoughts/feelings of inadequacy

Word Count: 3200+

Notes: This is my entry for @railmereid‘s 2k writing challenge! It was inspired by Taylor Swift’s song tolerate it! I think there’s only one direct quote (I’m begging for footnotes in the story of your life).

You met Aaron on accident. It could be said that a lot of people are met on accident, and that’s just how people meet other people. But with Aaron it felt different. It felt as though every little thing that went wrong that day lead you to the accident that would introduce Aaron Hotchner into your life.

After the shit show that was today, all you want to do is get home and sleep. Maybe also eat dinner, but honestly even food is on the backburner of your mind right now.

Your drive home from work was the first uneventful thing to happen all day, a necessary moment of peace. You made it into your apartment without any trouble, swiftly moving to change into your fluffiest pajamas and sleep.

The second your head hit your pillow, the fire alarm sounded. The blaring alarm screeched in your ears as you groaned. You forced yourself out of bed to comply with the alarm. Without thinking, you put on your slippers, grabbed your keys, and walked out the front door.

Once you made it to the street, you turned to see the building really was on fire. It looked contained to one patio, but it was big enough for you to give up your plans of sleep. Instead, you chose to turn on your heel and walk down the street to escape the crowd.

You didn’t have a plan as to where you were going. You just wanted it to be quiet. Before long, you found yourself in a park. Looking around, you spotted an empty bench. Perfect. You can just sit, enjoy the quiet of the park for however long it takes to fix the fire issue.

You start trekking toward the bench, now walking with a purpose, when you notice a man chasing his child. The child laughs loudly, joy so clear on his face. The man smiles at him, still running behind him.

His smile is so infectious, it has its own magnetic force pulling you towards him. Switching directions from the bench, you are now walking toward the grassy area they are playing in, not looking at your surroundings. You’re so captivated by the happiness on display in front of you, you don’t notice the change in terrain.

You end up tripping on a rock, falling and tumbling down the slight decline to land in a heap at the feet of the very man whose smile distracted you.

To make matters worse, he was not stationary. No, that would have been to simple. He was, in fact, still chasing the child. So, rather than rolling to a stop and looking up at him, you rolled right into him, causing him to lose his balance and fall over you.

The two of you were a tangled mess of limbs piled on top of each other. Slowly, carefully the two of you separated, gingerly moving arms and legs to avoid further injury. Helping each other rise from the ground, you were both speechless, equal parts amused and horrified at what just happened.

“Are you okay?”

You jumped at the sudden intrusion that brought you back to reality. Spinning around, you realized it was the child.

It took you an embarrassing amount of time to form a response. “Oh, um... yes I’m okay. Thank you.” Turning back to the man, you finally realized what just happened. “Oh my god. I’m so sorry! Are you okay?”

He chuckled, a small smirk appearing on his face before he replied, “Yeah, I’m fine.”

“Oh, good.” Your relief was short lived as you realized what you were wearing and how you were dressed. “Please tell me you didn’t see me roll all the way down the hill?” You cringed at the thought.

“I could say it, but it wouldn’t be very honest.” Again, a small laugh left his lips.

“Do you think we could pretend?” You took a deep breath as he quirked his eyebrow. “Ya know, that I didn’t just make a complete fool of myself?”

“But that’s not true! Daddy said when something’s not true it’s a lie and lies are bad.” The boy chimed in again, earning a chuckle from both adults. You bent down to talk to him.

“You are absolutely right, lying is bad.” You nodded along with him, matching his serious expression.

He took in your expression, as if judging the sincerity of your statement. Slowly, a smile began to form as if he was glad you agreed with him. “Do you want to play tag with us?”

Looking from him to his father, you took the slight smile and nod of his head as an invitation to accept his offer. “I would love to.”

That series of accidents led you to where you are now, though. A year and a half later you are sitting in your shared home, watching Aaron Hotchner do paperwork for what feels like the millionth night in a row. More realistically, it is the ninth night in a row, but you’re feeling lonely and dramatic. Those nine nights have been spread out over the past month, interrupted by nights he spends away from home.

You yearn to be closer to him. All it would take is for you to cross the room, but it feels as though the distance from the couch you are lounging on to the desk he is working at is too far, like there is some impassible divide preventing you from interrupting him.

So you just keep watching. It has been 36 minutes since you started your observing. If he sticks to his pattern, he’ll pause in nine minutes to stretch, giving him the opportunity to notice your eyes on him. You’re hopeful that this time he’ll smile when he sees you.

So you wait. You watch him read. You notice the way his head dips just a bit lower as he tries to focus tired eyes on the smudged handwriting of a fellow agent. You notice how his hand squeezes the pen tighter than before, turning the once smooth glide of ink across the page into rushed, jagged strokes of letters. You notice the barely there wince as he flips the page, the result of the familiar feeling of a paper cut he’s grown all too used to. You notice everything he does. Which is why you’re not surprised when he speaks.

“You’re staring.”

Glancing at your phone, you note the time. Nine minutes later. Right on schedule. The smile you hoped for is noticeably missing, replaced by a curious tilt of his head.

“I’m basking in your presence.”

If he wanted to, he could figure out how lonely and dramatic you are feeling. But with the majority of his energy still directed towards the many reports on his desk, he only notices the surface level. Tired, slightly miffed, but enjoying that he is home.

There was once a time when he would have noticed it all though. A time when he noticed everything about you, sometimes before you had even noticed it about yourself. You’ve learned how to hide it though, to save him the energy that would be expended to profile you.

“You should consider a new career path. Comedy could really be for you.”

His deadpan joke doesn’t surprise you, but him rising from his desk chair does. For a minute, you expect him to come to you. To attempt to cross the impassible divide you’ve built in your head. Instead, he turns into the kitchen. He pauses at the island, drinking from the glass he never brings to his desk to prevent anything from ruining his files.

When he returns to his desk, squandering any lingering hope that he may have been done for the night, you rise. Unwilling to do what you had hoped of him, you turn away from his desk and move toward the stairs. Just before you lose sight of him, you turn back.

“Don’t forget to sleep tonight.”

Your tone is soft, emphasizing your concern to cover up the lingering loneliness.

“I’ll be up soon.”

You respond with a slight nod of your head, another thing unnoticed by Aaron as his eyes never left the files.

You flitter through the second level as you complete your routine to prepare yourself to sleep for the night.

You can’t help but notice the cold sheets on the empty side of the bed as you wait for Aaron, knowing you’ll likely be asleep before he comes to bed.

You’re surprised to wake up the next morning with Aaron still in bed next to you. You watch his chest rise and fall with the steady in and out of his breath. His face is fully relaxed, a sight you so rarely get to see.

You’re not sure how long you watch him sleep, but you notice when his rhythmic breathing changes pattern indicating he’s waking up. His eyes flutter open slowly, allowing you to see the exact moment he notices you.

“You’re staring again.”

The smile you are still hoping for is again absent from his face, too used to the frown that has taken over his features near permanently for the past month.

“I’m still basking in your presence.”

You notice the beginnings of a grin forming on his face. The twinkle in his eyes. The slight twitch of his lips. It’s nearly there when the moment is interrupted by the distinct, shrill ringtone indicating a call from the bureau.

You watch as he sits up to answer the phone with his typical “Hotchner”. If you hadn’t spent the last year noticing everything you could about the man, you would doubt that he had been asleep less than three minutes ago.

His brows furrow, his body leaning forward to sit a little straighter as he takes in the information from whoever is on the other end of the phone. His eyes trace the pattern of your comforter, up until he throws the blanket off of himself to rise to his feet. He’s changing into his suit before hanging up. Without even hearing his responses, you can tell where this is headed.

After he hangs up, you speak before he has the chance.

“I take it you won’t be here for dinner with my parents tonight? I’ll try to reschedule it.”

The question should express your loneliness, but you do well to hide the full truth. It’s easy to sound understanding because you are. You do understand, which is why you never plan to tell him how you feel.

The grim expression is enough for you to know you’re right, you don’t need the verbal confirmation. You nod your head, a smile on your face that doesn’t meet your eyes as he walks out of your bedroom.

While Aaron was away, you did everything you could to keep yourself busy outside of your typical 9 to 5 workday. Aside from the typical reading, cleaning, and TV watching you normally do you; you successfully navigated another conversation with your parents about why it was necessary to reschedule dinner a second time and played action figures with Jack, always in agreement about how his daddy is a hero.

Every night you found yourself staring at the door, hoping it would swing open and reveal him on the other side. Every night you grew less hopeful and more discouraged than the one previous.

Five days after he left, Aaron returned to your shared home. Despite the late hour, you waited for him on the couch. Knowing he probably hadn’t eaten dinner, you kept some food warm for him.

When the door swung open, you were in front of it in seconds. You pulled him into a hug, one he was too exhausted to reciprocate, and kissed his cheek.

Moving farther into the house, he dropped his files on his desk swiftly turning to head upstairs.

“I kept dinner warm for you.”

Your words stalled him at the bottom of the stairs. He turned around slowly, barely looking at you.

“I actually ate with the team tonight.”

His words hit you like a bus, but you turned to hide it. He didn’t eat with the team often, so you never blamed him when he stayed with them a bit longer than usual.

“Oh, okay. I’ll just put it in a container for tomorrow then. Did you want to talk about the case?”

You’ve always been willing to help him carry the weight of his job, but you’ve been trying harder to get him to open up this past month. Typically he brushes you off, tells you he’s fine, and then buries himself in paperwork.

He surprised you this time. Maybe he could tell you were upset, or maybe he was just too far in his head. Either way, rather than continuing on his path up the stairs, he moved to sit in the kitchen while you put the food away.

You listened as he ranted about the local officers withholding information about the case. You listened as he complained about the poor weather. You listened to every word, slowly washing and drying the dishes until they were sparkling. You listened until you were practically asleep, leaning against the sink. You didn’t dare to interrupt in fear he would shut down again. Or maybe it was you shutting down, but that’s a thought for another time.

When he finished talking, he rose from his chair, too worked up to sleep now, he sat down at his desk.

You watched, noticing everything you could.

Your weeks repeated much the same for the next few months. Your loneliness morphed into something new with each night you spent watching Aaron work.

It’s one such night when everything changes. You were trying to watch him work, but your thoughts drifted away from his actions as you lost yourself in your memories.

The first case Aaron went on after you moved in with him and Jack was the hardest for you. After a straight week of seeing him so often around the house, it felt like a slap in the face to come home and not have him there. Somehow you made it through, and you were clingier than usual when he came home.

He noticed how it affected you. That was before you started hiding your feelings from him. He told you he thought about you in every spare moment. That he wanted to solve the case even more than usual just so he could come home to see you even just a few minutes sooner.

He calmed all of your fears, protecting you from your own intrusive thoughts about holding him back when he was working.

You couldn’t help but think about every time he recognized how you were feeling and did what he could to help. How he would reassure you that he wanted to be with you, bringing you little key chains or stuffed animals from the cities he travelled to. How he would smile when he saw you. Where was that man now?

You thought back to the first day you met Aaron. It was like he saved you from a terrible day, bringing a smile to your face after hours upon hours of crap.

“Do you think we could pretend?” You laugh lightly to yourself at the memory of Jack telling you not to lie. Not realizing you spoke the words out loud, you’re surprised to hear Aaron from across the room.

“Pretend what?” The confusion is clear in his voice and the furrow of his brows.

“Hmm? Oh, um. I was just thinking about the first day we met.” Tears begin to brim your eyes as you think about how much everything has seemed to change. “And how you became my whole world and now I feel like I’m begging for footnotes in the story of your life.” The tears are now freely falling down your face.

Aaron looks even more confused now. “What?” He’s frozen at his desk, pen in hand, reports on the surface in front of him.

“I’m so sorry. I just feel like I’m taking up so much of your time and you have such important things to do! God, I’m so selfish. I’ve tried so hard to hide it though, so you can focus on people who actually need your help.” The panic in your voice grows as you speak, along with the tears falling from your eyes.

“Y/N...” Suddenly, Aaron is on his feet, easily crossing the imaginary divide you’ve built in between the couch and his desk. He slows down, moving gently as he pulls you into him on the couch, moving your legs across his lap so he could pull you into his chest. “Sweetheart, you could never take up too much of my time.” He speaks slowly, so as not to start another round of sobbing.

“What?” Your confusion is clearly communicated with the one word question, but you’re on a roll with your feelings so why stop now. “Are you saying it’s all in my head? Bu-, but, but you’ve been so busy every time you’ve been home! I’ve barely seen you, and I’ve tried so hard to not let it bother me because I know how important what you do is! I do, I understand it all so much. I could never be mad at you for working so hard. I just feel like you’re tolerating me being here when you have so many more important things to do.”

Now breathless, your rant ends with more tears forming in your eyes. Aaron is quick to wipe them away as they fall. “You’re right. I have been busy.” His voice is full of concern and regret as he thinks about the past few months. “But please don’t ever doubt for a second that you are the most important thing in the world to me.” He pauses for a second before continuing. “Well, other than Jack.” This earns him a slight chuckle from you before you reply.

“Jack is the most important to me too.” Your clear your throat, hesitant to voice your next question. “You’re not mad at me?”

Aaron looks so taken aback, you would laugh if you weren’t so nervous. “I could never be mad at you. Especially not for having completely valid feelings. I’m so sorry I haven’t been as present as I should’ve been. I love you so much, Y/N. More than I could ever put into words, and I will be doing a better job of showing you just how much you mean to me from now on.” There’s a slight edge to his voice, as though he’s annoyed with himself for you feeling this way. “Please, don’t ever hide your feelings from me. I never want to lose you.” His own voice is cracking, slight tears in his eyes at the idea of you not being in his life.

“I promise.” You lean up to kiss him, trying to convey just how much you’ve missed him.

“Let’s go to bed.” He lifts you up from the couch, carrying you toward the stairs.

You shriek, clinging to him even more. “It’s only 9:15!” You laugh at his antics. “What about your reports?”

“I have more important things to do right now.” He smirks at you, quickly moving into the bedroom to show you just how much he cares about you.

permanent tag list:

@mac99martin @goldeng1rl8 @measure-in-pain

#renswritingchallenge #aaron hotch hotchner #aaron hotch x reader #aaron hotchner angst #aaron hotchner fluff #Criminal Minds #criminal minds x reader #hotch x reader

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snarkwriteswrasslin · 4 years ago

Text

15.12, le tits now, trent baretta

Title: le tits now ( let it snow wrapping paper used wrongly, ftw.)

Theme: Wrapping paper

Fandom / Character(s):Trent Baretta, AEW

Warnings: It’s flirtatious and a little comedy. Oh and definitely over the top fluffy. That’s p. much it.

Word Count: uhhh... roughly 2k.

This is my entry to @champbucks 12 Days Of Christmas Challenge for the day.Listen.. I was shown a picture by my bb @schizoauthoress that I immediately took and ran with. So.. thank them for the inspo. The wrapping paper is supposed to say let it snow, but instead, it’s wrapped horribly enough that it reads le tits now. Annnyway. I went full on sexy rom com funny with this, so I really hope ya’ll like it? I had way too much fun writing it.

BTW>. i made the banner thing. No stealing.

Tagging:

@kyleoreillysknee

@rampagewriting

@writertoo18

@thatnerdwriter

@wrestlingismyguiltypleasure

@chasingeverybreakingwave

@waywardwrestlewritingwaif

@sassymox

@champbucks

@hungmanhorsecarriage

@wardl0w

@ryantaylorgirl

@dilfmoxley

@hotyeehawman

@gabbynorth98

@bec0m

@irish-newzealand-idian-dutch

@daddyslittlevillain

[ about page | masterlist | tag list ]

The baseball cap was being passed around Catering and for the most part, I ignored it. Only vaguely noticed it. Hell, if I’m being honest, I was only halfway listening to Brandi Rhodes as she explained the ‘rules’ that went along with Secret Santa.

Kris leaned in and elbowed me, whispering with a soft laugh, “I hope I get OC.”

“I don’t care who I get as long as it’s not Hager. Because I can’t punch him in the dick and call it a present to humanity.” I mumbled, shrugging lazily as I scrolled Twitter.

More to the point, I may or may not have been scrolling Trent’s Twitter… For the fourth time that day. As soon as Kris caught onto it, she smiled and teased quietly, “But you’d really like it if you got Trent’s name.. Right?”

“I mean.. I wouldn’t exactly complain.” I answered Kris, putting down my phone and looking up at her, laughing softly. I could feel someone staring at me but I didn’t bother turning around. It was probably Hager again, being gross.. Again.

The baseball cap made it’s way to our table. Kris went first, pulling out a slip of paper.

“Ooh.”

“What’s ooh? Did you get OC?” I asked, teasing a little.

“No, actually.” Kris was giving me this smug little smirk. I pretty well knew she wasn’t going to tell me just yet. And it didn’t really bother me.

I eyed the baseball cap. “Well, here goes nothing. Please baby Jesus in the manger, don’t be Hager. Don’t be Hager..” I reached in and grabbed at two slips, letting the first one settle back in the hat and pulling out the second. I opened it, eyes scrolling over the writing on the page.

“Oh thank god. It’s not Hager.” I may or may not have said it a little too loud, because at the table behind us, I heard Chuck Taylor start snickering, immediately launching into an impersonation of Hager that prompted me to turn and laugh as I nodded and gave him the thumbs up.

“You have to sound dumb as a brick next time though, Chuckie.. Man’s as dumb as a brick.”

“Noted, darlin. Who did you two get, huh?” Chuck asked Kris and I.

“We’re not supposed to tell! That ruins the whole surprise!” Kris’ eyes went wide. I laughed and shook my head. I nodded my head subtly towards Kris when she was preoccupied and Chuck smirked, leaning in to whisper, “Just shove her in a room with Orange. Pretty sure it’ll make both their Christmas real jolly.”

“Noted, Chucky boy.”

Knowing that Chuck was one of exactly 3 people who kind of knew about my little crush on Trent, I leaned in a second later and whispered, “Any idea who got Trent’s name?”

Chuck shrugged but he waited and leaned across the aisle when everybody else was occupied or talking and muttered quietly, “If I find out, I’ll send ‘em your way.”

“Yeah, that’d be great. I got Kris, but I’ve already got her a present or two.” I explained. And honestly, after that I totally forgot about the whole thing.

XXX

“Who did you get, man?” Chuck asked the question because Trent was.. In deep thought mode and hadn’t been listening to at least the last ten minutes of the conversation currently going on around him. The question was enough to pull Trent out of his deep thought and Trent chuckled, raising his hips so that he could dig around in the pockets of his jeans to find the slip of paper he’d drawn earlier that night in Catering when they all drew names.

Chuck took the slip and looked at it, promptly chuckling.

“So you’re going for it, huh?”

“Mhm. Was there any doubt though, Chuckie?”

“Good. Good, man.”

Orange spoke up from the back. “I got Trent.”

Trent chuckled.

“Thinkin about tradin though. Found something I wanted to get Kris.”

Chuck rubbed his chin thoughtfully and filed away what Orange revealed for later. Maybe he’d run into his friend again later, when he didn’t have Trent and Orange hanging around.

Orange eyed Chuck and asked, “Who’d you get?”

“Stunt. I’ll get the kid some guitar strings and a few picks or something. That’ll be a damn breeze.”

“Excuse me, did you say you were trading my name, Orange? I thought we were buds.” Trent pretended to pout and Orange rubbed his chin, smirking as he shrugged. He sank back against the backseat and dragged his fingers through his hair. “We are. Just thought it was time I did something.”

“Yeah, same thing with me. I get it, man.” Trent explained. And he smirked to himself, because he had more than a few ideas just how he could go about what he had in mind.

XXX

I’d just stepped into the hotel lobby when an arm shot out from behind the christmas tree tucked away in the corner. I’d been just about to start swinging when I realized it was Chuckie.

“Dude, what the hell?”

“I have news.”

“Yeah?” I eyed him, wondering what the hell was up. When he explained that he knew who’d gotten Trent’s name and that this person might be willing to trade, especially if I had Kris’ name… I nodded, smirking and giving Chuck a high five. “Take me to this person. Let’s do this. I’m ready for things to… Finally come out.”

Chuck gave me this smirk that gave me the distinct feeling that there was more that he wasn’t saying, but instead of pressing him for it, I chose to follow along. We wound up by the vending machines and while I waited and Chuck texted whoever he was telling me about just a second or two ago, I got myself some junk food and a few sodas for the night, promptly popping the top on a wild cherry Pepsi and taking myself a seat on the floor, my back to the machine.

About a minute later, Orange Cassidy appeared, leaning lazily in the doorway, smirking as he rubbed his chin. “She’s the one, huh?” and he went quiet again, as if he were in thought. “You have Kris’ name?”

“I do, yeah. I already got her presents that I want to give her… Hey, wait… Are you looking for her name specifically?” I flashed Orange a teasing grin and he shrugged, answering with a quiet “Maybe.”

I dug around, producing the slip of paper, holding it out. Orange dug the slip of paper with Trent’s name on it out of his jacket pocket, but before he handed it over, he gave a teasing smirk. “At least you’re cool.”

“I,uh.. Thanks I think?” I dragged my hand through my hair and gave a soft laugh and as we switched names, I asked, “This stays between us… Right?”

“Definitely. See ya around. Chuck, Trent’s looking for you.” Orange nodded towards the check in desk. After another second or two of Chuck teasing me and saying that he should have known I had a thing for Trent because apparently I wasn’t as good at hiding it as I thought I was, Chuck and Orange left, leaving me sitting there to finish off my Pepsi in silence as I waited on the line at the check in desk to die down just a little.

And as I did that, I scoured a few shopping sites, trying to settle on what exactly I wanted to get Trent for Christmas, while mumbling to myself audibly, “I should just show up on the night we’re to meet up face to face in a big red bow…”

From behind me, I heard Kris giggle.

“So you did get Trent…” Kris mused, flopping down to sit beside me. I smiled and nodded. There was absolutely no way I was going to ruin the whole surprise where Orange willingly trading around til he wound up with her name was concerned, so for now, I saw no need in mentioning that I’d traded.

“It might be a little cold for your idea just now.” Kris cautioned and I gave a laugh, shrugging it off. “It was just a thought. I think I’m gonna get him a gag gift the first night.. Something that’ll make him blush.. Oooooh.. Hey.. do you feel like going to that adult store in town with me in the morning before we hit the gym?”

“What are you gonna do?”

“Massage oils. And a new neck pillow for flights. He gets the worst tension in his neck I’ve noticed..”

“Flavored massage oils?” Kris taunted, poking her tongue out at me.

I pretended to be shocked and gaped at her. “I.. Never said that… I mean, not exactly...”

“I know how your mind works, A.” Kris teased me gently and I gulped, blushing a little over how well she managed to call me out just now. “That is an idea to file away for the future… I mean.. If this all doesn’t backfire in my face.” I pulled myself off of the floor that I’d been sitting inappropriately on, and I reached out, grabbing for the heels I’d pretty much abandoned upon entering the building.

“Still think those new stilettos were good for tonight?” Kris was teasing me again and I laughed it off as I debated on whether I actually wanted to put them back on and have my feet screaming at me in sheer agony.

I quickly decided that no, no I did not feel up to that tonight.

“They made my ass in these jeans look amazing, so yeah. Yeah I do, Kris.” I taunted, making her laugh and shake her head as she remarked, “Opposites attract is definitely true in your case, huh?”

“God, yes.. And speaking of opposites, there he is now..”

I stared like a helpless idiot as Trent walked past with Orange and Chuck flanking him. Chuck managed to look back and catch me staring, holding up two fingers. To anybody else that would’ve been a peace sign. But to me, that was a reminder.

I had two nights until I was face to face with Trent, revealing myself and probably, everything I felt for the guy.

XXX

“You’re actually giving her the present.. Wrapped like that.” Chuck was trying his best to hold in laughter. Almost failing miserably, but he was trying. Trent eyed the box he held in his hand and smirked at Chuck, nodding. “I am, why? What the hell is wrong with my mom’s leftover wrapping paper, huh?”

,, for starters you wrapped it so bad it reads le tits now, but hey.. You do you, buddy.” Chuck could’ve said it, but what Trent was doing was a huge deal. It was something Trent probably should’ve done a while ago, as opposed to just keeping his feelings to himself and going above and beyond to kind of keep his distance from the girl in question unless they had to interact.

Because yeah.. While all the quiet staring and the pining going on was cute as hell between the two, it was getting to a point where the sexual tension was so heavy that literally everyone around them was suffering for it also.

“Tonights night one, man.”

“That it is, Chuck.” Trent took a long and deep breath, almost as if he were centering himself. He waited until no one was looking and made his way into Catering, over to the decorated tree that sat on top of a table in the back already loaded down with presents.

And when he knew the coast was clear, he stuck the box on the nearest pile and quickly, he walked out of catering.

XXX

Everybody was already crowded into Catering when Kris and I made our way into the room and found a seat close to the door. I let the stilettos on my feet hit the floor with a soft thud and tugged my hair free. The blazer I’d been wearing that evening to conduct my two backstage interviews was sitting on the tabletop in front of me, right next to my travel bag.

Britt named herself Santa for the night, so she was calling out names. I was talking quietly to Kris, only half listening for my own to be called.

We were trying to anticipate who we might have gotten. I was trying to resist the urge to tell Kris that Orange had gotten her name. I was more than a little excited for her because just the sheer joy that she had over having managed to get his name was enough to make me truly happy.

I wasn’t terribly worried about who might have gotten my name, because the important thing here was that I’d taken steps to make sure I wound up with Trent’s name. That I was finally doing something I should’ve done months ago.

Britt must have called my name more than a time or two, because I looked up to find Brandi standing over me, trying not to double over laughing as she held out a hastily wrapped gift.

The wrapping paper caught my eye immediately. Whoever wrapped it had chosen wrapping paper that was pretty.. Shiny and sparkly, with silver snowflakes and pale blue lettering. The bow tied on the package somehow did not fit the packaging itself, but honestly, I just couldn’t stop staring at the way Let It Snow was turned into Le TitS now because of the way my Secret Santa had hastily wrapped the box.

I swallowed hard, getting a bit of a sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach because at this point, I was at least 90 percent sure that the wrapping paper itself was a clue of some sort.

“Le TitS now, huh? Hager, are you the secret santa? Because if you’re behind this, man.. I can personally assure you, you dumb fucking Okie, you are.. Not even on the bottom of the very short list of men I’d willingly show my tits to.” I mumbled aloud.

“Well? Are you at least going to open it?” Kris asked from beside me. Brandi was watching expectantly too and under the pressure, I tore into the gift after neatly removing the way the bow had been tied so pretty and so carefully.

I wanted to keep that.

“Ooh, you’re gonna keep the bow, right?”

“It’s beautiful, Fuck yes.” I answered Kris as I gaped at the black velvet box in my hand. The other hand raised, catching in dark waves and tousling as my mouth opened and closed. “This is.. Okay.. Let me breathe here, I…”

I was at a complete and total loss for words suddenly.

And when I opened the box and spied the silver necklace with a shooting star pendant that I’d probably made 3 trips past a certain jewelry store in the mall in town just to stare at it…

Jake Hager spoke up from behind me.

“If you want, darlin. I can fasten it.”

“Ew, no! Fuck right off, you dumb Okie. Oh and if you’re the one who got me this, thanks but… This is as far as it goes, Hager. You’re not, nor will you ever be… Seeing any tits.”

Jake gave me a blank look and shrugged, wandering off. Kris was trying not to die laughing from beside me, as were Chuck,Trent and Orange from the table across from ours. I turned to Kris and held it out carefully. “Will you put it on? You’re probably the one other person I trust to do it without trying to cop a feel at this rate.”

“Except the guy you wish would cop a feel.” Kris muttered, making me gaze briefly at Trent, watching as he opened the tiffany blue and white wrapped gift box that contained what I’d gotten him.

When I saw the way his eyes lit up, I let out a ragged breath. Somehow, I got the feeling that he’d enjoy the controller. And the neck massager pillow that he was putting around his neck already, a goofy grin playing at his lips as he sank back against the booth and muttered aloud, “Nobody talk to me. I’m takin a nap.”

I couldn’t resist saying something.

“It’s.. heated, I think? There’s a little button on the back to turn on the heat. I..”

,, you absolute goof, what the fuck are you doing, A?” my mind shrieked as soon as the words left my mouth. I covered quickly, the words tumbling out of my mouth almost breathlessly as Trent’s eyes fluttered open and locked on me intently. When he licked his lips while still staring, I had to cross my legs under the table.

“It does, huh? Awesome.” Trent flashed me that cocky grin and I wanted to melt. If I thought forming words was a bit of a struggle before, compared to now, it seemed so much easier.

“Yeah.. I uhh.. I have a pink one.” I finally managed to stammer, going back to my own conversation and gushing over the necklace sitting around my neck out loud and excitedly with Kris.

I mean, it wasn’t a lie. I did have a pink one exactly like it. And a red one. And I’d actually said a lot more than usual to him tonight. Without stammering or saying the wrong thing entirely like I tended to on occasion.

XXX

“Did you see her face light up?” Trent was still on cloud 9 after watching her open the secret Santa gift earlier in the night. Now he was texting his mother to see if the gift he’d gotten her for the last night of the gift exchange had shown up yet.

Chuck spoke up, chuckling. “Was funny as hell when she told Hager he didn’t stand a chance in hell, man. And then when he tried to sneak up on her under that mistletoe that Brandi put up earlier, her threatening him with her shoe.”

Trent chuckled, even though his jaw set firmly and he grumbled. Right after Jake had tried pulling that stunt, he’d gotten the guy off to himself and quickly told him if he caught him attempting it again, he was going to take him outside.

Lucky for Jake, Chuck and Orange managed to get between the two. Because Trent was personally beyond fed up of the disgusting way that Jake behaved around her all the time. She shouldn’t have to threaten the guy with mase or a knee to the nuts to make him leave her alone.

No woman should.

“You know.. You could’ve done it, man. You could’ve snuck up on her.” Chuck teased his best friend as he glanced over at him.

“I’m saving that for tomorrow, Chuck. I have a plan, remember?”

“Says the man who wrapped the gift so that it read ‘le tits now’.” Orange chuckled from the backseat.

Chuck and Orange burst into laughter and Trent grumbled, smiling and laughing as he flipped them both off. “Yeah, well neither of you saw to point it out either.”

“I assumed you could read the damn packaging? My bad, Trenty.”

“I was just too caught up in getting to the arena and giving it to her, man. You know I’ve been waiting to do this a while!” Trent groaned as he let his head fall back against the headrest behind it and laughed.

“Maybe you should just let Sue wrap it this time, huh?”

“That’s not entirely a bad idea.” Trent chuckled as he said it, texting his mom to ask if she’d mind wrapping the present for him when it finally got to her place the next morning.

“She knew it said that too?” he grumbled aloud a few seconds later when his eyes scanned his mother’s response text.

[ mama bear ] I wanted to tell you before you left but you were so excited…

[ mama bear ] Did she like the necklace, son? I thought it was beautiful…

[ trentylocks] She loved it, mom. Was excited, doing that cute thing where she talks loud and giggles a lot, talking with her hands. Just wish me luck for tomorrow, please? I’m gonna need it.

[ trentylocks ] She loved the bow you tied just as much, by the way. ;) She kept it. When I saw her leaving the arena, she had it tied around her wrist.

[ trentylocks] Did you still want me to invite her over for dinner?

[ mama bear] You talk so much about her, of course! I have to meet her. Make sure she’s sweet enough for my baby.

[ mama bear ] I see you, trying to get her brownie points. But I’m glad she liked the bow. Says a lot about her that she kept it.

Trent slipped his phone back into his pocket and started to nod off, awakening when Chuck cleared his throat and asked aloud, “So what did you get her for tomorrow night?”

Trent smirked. “For the actual present, I got her a photo album. Because remember that time we were in the airport and her luggage burst? And the pictures inside it went everywhere?”

“Awww, for a cranky jerk, you can be sweet sometimes, Trenty.”

“Look who’s talkin, bigger cranky jerk. I also got her an actual warm blanket. Because she’s always walking around with that fuzzy pink thin one draped around her like she’s cold as hell. And roses. But I’m not givin’ her those until we’re face to face.”

“You giant sap.” Chuck teased his best friend as he grinned. “If it helps, man.. I don’t think you have to worry about tomorrow night going south. I think things might surprise you with how they turn out.”

“Oh you do, huh? What are you now, a psychic, Taylor?” Trent asked, giving Chuck a raised brow, wondering why he got the feeling that Chuck definitely knew more than he was saying.

“No, I just know how to read that particular girl, Beretta.” Chuck smirked, not even having to look over to know that Trent was giving him a dirty look at the reminder that Chuck had become friends with her first.

XXX

[ dad] Well, how did the secret santa go, sweetpea?

[dad] did this Trent like his present?

I smiled as I read the texts from my dad while standing in line to check into the hotel. After a second or two, I answered.

[sweetpea] He did! I’m glad I took your advice and didn’t try to go overboard. Now it leaves the romantic part for tomorrow night. Thank you, sir!

[sweet pea] remember that necklace I told you I was thinking about getting myself? The one like mama’s? I don’t have to… apparently, my secret santa knew somehow that I liked it and got it for me?

[ sweet pea ] But the way they wrapped the present, oh my god. I nearly died laughing.

[dad] you should call around. Find a restaurant. Your mama.. She liked cozy candlelit dinners. Just a thought.

[ dad] they did, huh? That’s good! Be careful driving to the hotel, sweetpea. The news said snow for your area tonight.

[sweetpea] Night, daddy. Don’t stay up all night watching the news or Blue Bloods. Go to bed, sir.

I put my phone away and at the tap on my shoulder, I turned. I found myself body to body with Jake Hager. I raised a brow and bit my lip, stepping away from him as quickly as possible. “What’s up?”

His eyes settled on the necklace and he chuckled. “Do you really think I’d have bought you that cheap lookin crap if I were the guy, princess?”

I glared and started to turn around, rolling my eyes. But Jake produced roses from behind his back. I eyed the roses and him and laughed as I shook my head no. “Life pro tip, Jacob.. Save the flowers for your actual girlfriend? Stop wasting your time with me. I have an ideal man and you sir, are not it. And you never will be.”

“Yeah? How about given a guy a chance?”

A throat cleared from behind us and a look around Jake revealed Trent standing there, muscular arms folded over his chest as he smirked at Jake.

“Do you have a fucking hearing problem, Hager? Or are you really that damn dense? She’s told you a thousand times to get bent by now.”

Somehow, in the midst of all this, I wound up right between Trent and Jake.. with my back pressed right against Trent’s chest. I gulped and tried like hell to hold myself together, but it just wasn’t working.

“Hey, whoa.. Can we just not, boys? Please?” I knew Jake would ignore me because he always does, so when I asked the question, I chose to turn.. Body to body with Trent.. And lock eyes with him, biting my lip and giving him my best pleading look.

Because holy hell, is it awkward when people make a scene like this.

Trent was glaring, tensing up all over. But at my question, he seemed to un-tense just slightly, tearing his eyes off of Jake to gaze down at me. “Yeah. He’s not fucking worth it anyway.”

“Exactly, Trent.” I muttered quietly, swallowing hard because I was lost in deep brown eyes and I knew it. And I couldn’t pull myself away from him, either.

The clerk’s throat cleared and gingerly, I managed to finally break gazes with him and stepped back, pouting before I turned to face the front and check into the hotel.

XXX

“You ready for this, man? Tonight is the big night.”

Trent chuckled, nodding. “It is. My mom came by earlier and dropped this off. Already wrapped.”

“You got the roses right, buddy?”

“Mhm. Over there.” Trent nodded to a dozen long stemmed red roses. Almost the same vibrant red as the lipstick she always wore.

He smoothed a hand over his hair and eyed the stupid jacket he was wearing. “This is a bit much.”

“It kind of is, man. A isn’t.. She’s not into male model types, man. Just dress comfortable.” Chuck shrugged as he chuckled. Trent took off the jacket and tossed it lazily at the second bed in the room and after he grabbed his key, he started out the door.

“I won’t wait up for you, man.”

Trent paused and gave him a laugh and shrug as he stepped out and into the hallway.

On the surface, he seemed calm, but on the inside?

An actual nervous wreck.

He knew she liked the presents she’d unwrapped in Catering earlier in the night, she hadn’t been without the blanket that he’d gotten her to unwrap there for the duration of the show. And as soon as she’d opened the photo album, she got the softest smile on her face, trailing her fingers over the cover.

She’d looked around the room and then gone back to whispering to Kris. But he’d managed to over hear her say that she knew it wasn’t Hager, because Hager had the emotional depth of a teaspoon and never would’ve thought to get her something as thoughtful as an actual photo album as opposed to her just tossing her photos in her luggage every time she went on the road.

Trent took a deep breath and made himself focus as he stood waiting on the elevator, goofy grin on his face.

He was meeting her at the town square because there was this huge christmas tree there and he liked the way her eyes lit up every time she saw it. It felt like time dragged at a hellish and slow pace from the time he was out in the parking lot, waiting on the Uber he’d called, to the time that Uber was pulling to a stop at the little park.

When he got out, he caught sight of her, approaching from the opposite direction. So he hung back, watched her walking past as he worked on getting himself reasonably pulled together and mentally prepared to reveal himself to her.

He let her settle in on the bench closest to the lit up tree and after a few deep breaths, he stepped out, roses in hand, clearing his throat.

XXX

[galaxybae] well? Is anyone there?

[galaxybae] are you sure this dress I borrowed was a good idea for tonight, A? I feel so damn naked right now…

[galaxybae] answer your texts woman.

[brunettebarbiedoll] not yet.. What about on your end? See anybody familiar?

I typed in the response to her first text and briefly, because i felt the sensation of being stared at intently, almost to the point of literal eye-fucking… It had my thighs clenching. It had me sitting up, alert and looking around, then pouting when I didn’t see anyone right away. I wandered over to the lit Christmas tree, a soft smile coming as the warm twinkle of soft white lights shined on me.

I felt good about tonight. Tonight’s secret santa gifts had pretty much blown my fear and theory that Hager was my secret Santa out of the water because Hager lacked the emotional depth and the practicality to pick out the gifts that my secret Santa had chosen for me.

At the thought, I snuggled tighter into my jacket, wishing I’d lugged the oversized plush winter white throw blanket along with me for both warmth and the comfort it made me feel.. As if I were being wrapped in a warm embrace whenever I had it wrapped around me.

And it didn’t go amiss by me that it smelled familiar somehow. Like a cologne I’d smelled somewhere, on more than one occasion.

And that thought further had me giving a soft and sappy smile over the thought of the gift. My fingers drifted upward, lingering at the shooting star charm that hung from the necklace that had been my gift the night before.

And I realized that I still hadn’t answered Kris’ two other texts. I sighed and looked around again, still seeing nobody around and yet, still feeling as if I were being visually fucked somehow.

Not in bad way though. Just… hungry, maybe.

,, it’s just the frenzy you’ve got yourself worked up into.”

I eyed my watch. I hoped my secret Santa showed themselves soon, because I still had to get through revealing myself to Trent.

And boy, was I ever a bundle of raw nerves over it.

[brunettebarbiedoll] Still nobody. I guess my secret Santa is gonna remain a secret? Either way, I’m kind of starting to get really nervous because I still have to wait on Trent to get here and reveal myself.

[galaxybae] Don’t you dare leave!

[galaxybae] Oh.. Oh.. i.. I think my person is here. Gotta go, bye!

I smiled to myself and put the phone away just as I felt my eyes being covered with something and then felt myself being turned around, what felt like flower stems being placed into my hands. I caught a whiff of the same cologne that I’d smelled on the blanket earlier and I swallowed hard. “Hey, no fair. You’re supposed to reveal yourself, sir.” I managed to get the words out as my body brushed against hardened muscle when I was pulled closer. So much closer. And arms wrapped around my waist.

I gaped as the fabric that had been placed over my eyes was lowered and it gave way to me standing body to body with Trent. Who was staring down at me intently, this soft smirk playing at his lips.

“Trent?”

“Mhm.” he chuckled quietly, a hand moving from it’s resting spot across my lower back to drag through thick dark hair.

I couldn’t help the fit of giggles that came. He eyed me with a brow raised and when my giggle fit finally died away, I explained with a teasing smile, “I was supposed to be meeting you here to reveal myself to you.”

His eyes widened and he chuckled. “Vanilla massage oil, hm?”

“In my defense, you always seem tense?” I bit my lip as I laughed softly. I was melting into him, awestruck at the realization that my forehead hit almost perfectly at the center of his chest. He used his grip on my body to pull me up a little and I wrapped my legs around his waist, making him laugh as our mouths brushed against each other clumsily.

“Was it an offer though, hmm?” Trent questioned, licking his lips as his eyes locked on my mouth.

“Possibly. I mean, I am pretty good at massages...” I teased, daring to trace the outline of his mouth with my tongue. Which only had him tangling a hand in the hair at the back of my hair and pulling my mouth against his completely.

The kiss broke and we pulled apart. I climbed out of his arms and leaned against him, raising to tiptoe to press another kiss against his lips as I muttered, “Are you hungry, Trent?”

“I could eat, yeah.. Why?”

“Well, there’s this cozy little place about a block away, I.. Kind of thought that maybe if things went okay when I had to meet you here, I’d ask you if you wanted to go with me?”

He grinned and slipped an arm around me, pulling me into his side as we made our way down the sidewalk.

“Did you wrap the first present the way you did intentionally?”

“No, I didn’t actually.” Trent answered, giving a sheepish laugh. “Did you think I did?”

“Well, when I thought was Hager, I didn’t think it was a stretch to imagine that yeah, he’d purposely done it. For the record.. If you wanted to see my tits, all you had to do was ask.” I teased, not stopping to think how suggestive what I said actually sounded until it left my mouth and I saw Trent’s jaw drop, and a flash of hunger flash in his eyes as he leaned down and muttered against the shell of my ear, “Ya know… I might actually take you up on that, doll.”

#12daysofchristmas #12 days of christmas #trent beretta imagine #trent beretta fanfiction #trent beretta fanfic #trent beretta imagines #trent beretta one shot #my writing; trent beretta #my fics; trent beretta #my oneshots; trent beretta

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queen-of-deans-booty · 5 years ago

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Sympathy for the Devil: Part One

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Word Count: 2,195

Warnings: typical supernatural violence, language, angst, blood, you know the usual

Author’s Note: first episode of season 5! let me know what you think!

I do not own anything from Supernatural. All credit goes to their respective owners. Any and all comments on these are appreciated. I really want to hear what you guys think about this one!

Feedback is the glue that holds my writing together.

Tags at the bottom

This is it. This is the moment you’ve been waiting for. It didn’t matter who started what or what they did, what’s done is done. Now, it was up to you to try and fix it.

“Come on!” Dean yells.

He takes yours and Sam’s hands and pulls you away from the shining sigil. You turn away from the center of the room to escape this inevitable trap. However, as soon as you reach the door, it slams shut and locks. Both brothers reach for the door, but you gently push them out of the way to do it yourself.

“Let me!” you exclaim and get in front of them.

Your hands start to glow bright blue, and you place them on the door so that your magic can work through the kinks to get it unlocked. The rooms starts to get brighter, and you try to work harder to get out. If not, then the light will become too bright to focus on anything. Lucifer is coming whether you like it or not, and you’d rather be out of the room before he makes his appearance.

As the light gets brighter, a high-pitched noise starts ringing. It starts off barely audible before kicking up a few notches. The noise reminds you of when angels talk since it’s getting to be unbearable to listen to. You want to continue to open the door, but it’s too loud and bright to focus on it. You take your hands away from the door and place them over your ears. You close your eyes tightly as if that’ll block out the bright light.

Suddenly, things happen so fast, you don’t know what’s going on. One minute it’s bright and loud, the next it’s dark and quiet. You open your eyes only to see you’re on a plane. It’s full of people who don’t seem to notice that there are three extra people on board with them. You don’t know how you got here or what happened, but you’re thanking whoever for doing so. You’re sitting by the window with Sam next to you and Dean on the aisle seat.

“What the fuck just happened?” you ask in confusion.

“I don’t know,” Sam shrugs.

“Folks,” the pilot says over the intercom, “quick word from the flight deck. We're just passing over Ilchester, then to Ellicott City where we’ll make our initial descent into Baltimore—”

“Ilchester? Weren't we just there?” the older brother spoke over him.

“—so, if you’d like to stretch your legs, now would be a good time to—holy shit!”

The plane is knocked off course as a column of light shot into the sky. You look out the window to see the church you three were just in. The light shines brightly from it, and you have a feeling it’s all because Lucifer is finally free from his cage. The stewardess walking down the aisle is knocked to her feet, and that’s when people start to panic. The plane jerks to the right, and the oxygen masks shoot down from the ceiling.

You don’t even have to think about this next part because you’re the only one who can save everyone on board. Your hands shoot out on both sides of you, and your eyes turn bright blue. A forcefield ejects from your palms and circles around the plane. It’s enough to protect it and everyone inside just in case the plane crashes. You may not have been able to take care of Lucifer, but you can save everyone on board.

You’re really not in the mood to have people dying on you.

Before the plane even touched the ground, the pilot was able to get it back on track. You let him take care of the rest of the flight, and because you didn’t have any mode of transportation, you took care of finding something that will take you back to the last place you were at before the big fight.

Finding a car was easy, hotwiring it was even easier, but now that you got some silence, it wasn’t easy to process what the hell just happened. Sam trusted a demon, he let her manipulate him, he killed Lilith, and Lucifer escaped his cage. You don’t know how your dad, Castiel, or even Chuck are doing, so the only thing you can do is pray for the best.

“Governor O'Malley urges it's very unlikely an abandoned convent would be a target for terrorists, either foreign or homegrown,” a radio personality says.

“Change the station, please,” you whisper quietly from the back.

Sam happily reaches to the radio to switch the station. However, every station that he stops on, they all are talking about the same thing. The church is all that everyone can talk about. He finally turns the radio off completely, which leaves the underlying question of what started this all.

“Guys look—”

“Don’t say anything,” the older brother interrupts the younger one. “It's okay. We just got to keep our heads down and hash this out, alright?”

“Yeah, okay,” Sam sighs.

“First things first, how did we end up on that plane?” you ask.

“Angels, maybe? I mean, you know, beaming us out of harm's way?” Sam theorizes.

“It doesn’t matter because t's the least of our worries. We need to find Cas,” Dean sighs.

“I hope they’re alright,” you whisper to yourself as your mind fills with concerned thoughts of the angel and the prophet.

The last place you three were at is Chuck’s house, so it’s the logical reason that you would look there first. Even before getting to the house, you knew that what you would find wouldn’t be good. As soon as Dean pulls up to his house, your fears are confirmed. The outside looks fine, but one of the windows has its curtains drawn. The place just looks like a wasteland from what you can see.

You don’t wait for Dean to stop the car before you’re exiting it. You run up the steps and yank open the front door. All the furniture is turned over or broken, there are multiple holes in the wall, the TV is burnt to a crisp, and papers are scattered across the floor. The brothers manage to catch up to you, and they slow down when they realize the state the house is in.

There is no sign of Castiel or Chuck.

You take a few steps towards the kitchen when you hear a quiet noise. It’s the noise one would make if they’re trying not to be caught. If anyone was in this house, you want to be the one who has the upper hand. You have to be quiet if you’re going to scare them away. The next step you take hits a creaky board, and that sounds like it’s coming from a loudspeaker. Whoever is in this house took it as a sign to start attacking.

The person jumps out from their spot and swings something at your head. Instincts took over, and you use your magic to deflect the attack. The item goes flying through the air, only to stick on the wall. Who would use a toilet plunger as a weapon? You look at the intruder, and instead of feeling scared or panicked, you’re relieved to see such a familiar face.

“Y/N, Sam, Dean?” Chuck asks in shock. “So, you’re okay?”

“Why wouldn’t we be okay?” you chuckle nervously.

“My last vision made me think that,” he directs his next sentence to the tallest man, “you went, like full-on Vader. Your body temperature was one-fifty, and your heart rate was two hundred. Your eyes were black.”

“Your eyes were black?” Dean asks Sam accusingly.

“I didn’t know,” Sam sighs after a moment of silence.

“Where’s Castiel?”

“He's dead or gone. The archangel smote the shit out of him. I'm sorry,” Chuck informs.

The thought of Castiel dying to protect you and the brothers is enough to bring down your spirits. He shouldn’t have suffered for someone like you.

“You're sure? I mean maybe he just vanished into the light or something,” you try to have hope.

“Oh, no. He, like, exploded. Like a water balloon of chunky soup,” the prophet shudders.

“You got a—”

Sam points to his own left ear to indicate that Chuck had something in the same exact spot. He reaches up to feel around for the foreign object until his fingers brushed over it. He pulls the item away from his head to see what it is. When he realizes what it is, his face goes a little green.

“Oh. Oh, god. Is that a molar? Do I have a molar in my hair? This has been a really stressful day.”

“Cas, you stupid bastard,” Dean mutters.

“Stupid? He was trying to help us,” you say.

“Yeah, exactly,” he scoffs.

“So, what now?” Sam asks.

If angels put you on the plane, that means they know where you are. They know Sam killed Lilith and raised Lucifer, they know all about Castiel and Raphael protecting Chuck, so they must know about you and Dean. You made a deal that you’d play your parts, so now that Lucifer’s free, they will be coming after you. If you’re going to survive an army of them, then having the sigil that casts away angels might come in handy.

You rush into the kitchen to retrieve a knife since the sigil has to be made with human blood. Without giving an explanation, you start to carve your hand to use your blood. Your magic will help make the pain go away and make this whole process much easier.

“What the hell are you doing?” Dean asks.

“I have a feeling we’ll be seeing some angels. I think it’s best if we have one of those banishing sigils, don’t you think?” you explain.

You use the blood from your hand to create the sigil on the sliding door that separated the living room and the kitchen. You had to make a few more cuts to get more blood, but you were done with the sigil soon enough. After discarding the knife, you slid the door out of sight so that the angels won’t know it’s there upon first arriving.

“Oh shit,” Chuck flinches.

“What is it?”

“I can feel them.”

“Thought we'd find you three here,” Zachariah says from behind you. You turn to see him and two other angels with him. “Playtime's over, Dean and Y/N. Time to come with us.”

“You just keep your distance, asshole,” you growl.

“You’re upset.”

“Yeah, a little. You sons of bitches jump-started judgment day!” Dean yells.

“Maybe we let it happen. But we didn't start anything,” he points to Sam with a wink, “right, Sammy? You had a chance to stop your brother, and you couldn't. So, let's not quibble over who started what. Let's just say it was all our faults and move on. Because like it or not, it's the Apocalypse, and we're back on the same team again.”

“Is that so?” you inquire and cross your arms.

“You three want to kill the devil. We want you three to kill the devil. It's... synergy.”

“And we’re supposed to just trust you? Hell to the fucking no.”

“This isn't a game, Y/N. Lucifer is powerful in ways that defy description. We need to strike now, hard and fast before he finds his vessel.”

“His vessel? Lucifer needs a meat suit?” Sam asks.

“He is an angel. Them's the rules, and when he touches down, we're talking Four Horsemen, red oceans, and fiery skies—all of the greatest hits. You three can stop him, but you need our help.”

“You listen to me, you two-faced douche,” Dean glares. He takes a few steps to the angels, but you stop him by putting your arm out in front of his chest. That wouldn’t be a smart move. “After what you did, I don't want jack shit from you!”

“You listen to me, boy! You think you can rebel against us? As Lucifer did?” Zachariah yells. His eyes flit around the room before landing on your bleeding hand. You could have healed yourself easily, but you want him to know just what you’re up to. It’ll make for a more dramatic exit. “You’re bleeding.”

“Oh, yeah. It’s a little insurance policy in case you pricks showed up,” you grin.

You pull on the sliding door, and the sigil is revealed to the angels.

“No!” Zachariah yells and lurches for you.

Before he can come within breathing distance from you, you slap your hand in the middle of the sigil. The angels vanish in a bright light, and you know you’re free for right now. If you’re going to figure out a way to fight the devil, you’ll need something to hide yourself away from the angels.

“I learned that from my friend Castiel, you son of a bitch,” you yell to the sky.

“This sucks ass,” Chuck groans.

Now that you have some room to breathe, it’s time to come up with a game plan—or a plan that involves you not getting killed.

Wanna get tagged? Add yourself to this document! If your tag doesn’t work, find out why!

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adrenaline-roulette · 5 years ago

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Fic ideas that I don’t know if I should continue

Well howdy there folks, so here’s the thing, I’m looking through my saved documents and have found a few fics that I’ve started (And by started I mean, I’ve written like 1 page max for each one) For one reason or another, I never got around to continuing them, and reading over them again now, I’m not sure if I should. I’ll post what I have bellow, but I would really love to know if anyone out there would be interested in reading these?

If you are interested and would like to be tagged in the eventually finished product, just let me know 😊

Soulmate Fic. Pairing: Joe Mazzello x Reader

Have you found your soulmate yet? If not, don’t panic, they’re out there somewhere! There have been cases of people not finding their soulmate until they turn sixty! But how do you know if you have found, the one? While scientists are still unable to explain exactly how this occurs, the moment you are in close proximity to your soulmate, you are able to hear them whenever they sing. But keep in mind, it is only when they sing, not when they listen to music!

**********

“If it hadn't been for Cotton-Eye Joe I'd been married a long time ago Where did you come from, where did you go? Where did you come from, Cotton-Eye Joe?”

The moment you first hear your soulmate’s voice singing in your head, you practically had a heart attack. Okay, so not quite, but you did find yourself quite flustered. So much so, that the egg you were in the midst of cracking for the cake you were making, ended up with the egg itself in the trash, while the shell was deposited into the cake mix. “Bloody fucking fuckety fuck!” You hiss, as you scoop the cracked shell out of the flour mix. This was certainly not how you had imagined your first encounter with your soulmate would go. You always heard about couples who had cute first interactions! Like one of them was singing old show tunes, or something of the likes. But oh no, what do you get? God damned Cotton Eye Joe.

You hear a door slam in the apartment, followed but feet pounding down the corridor. “I heard swearing, is everything alright?” Your best friend Ben appears in the kitchen entry, his green eyes scanning the room for any signs of injury.

“I’m fine, don’t stress.” You smile softly, the frown which had enveloped your features only moments ago, quickly vanishing as you take in Ben’s worried expression.

He nods, blonde curls swaying over his forehead. “Alright, if you’re sure Y/N, because I’m more than happy for you to borrow my oven, but I’m not alright with you injuring yourself in my home!”

“Duly noted. Thank you Benjamin.” You poke your tongue out at him, before turning back to the recipe, scanning over the paper for the next step. Ben had been more than willing for you to borrow his oven for the afternoon, the baking bug had bitten you, but you had recently found yourself without a functioning oven, which is how you found yourself stood in his apartment now, baking a monstrosity of a chocolate cake, complete with four layers.

Ben slides up next to you, leaning his back against the kitchen counter, looking over at you quizzically. “No, but really, what was the swearing all about?”

You shrug half-heartedly, keeping your eyes focused on the mundane task of whisking the ingredients together. “It was nothing, just heard something surprising is all.”

Ben nods, and for a split second you truly believe he will drop the subject, but you sadly have no such luck. “As in, you heard something surprising on the radio, or you heard something surprising in your head….”

Turning in his direction, you shoot a glare his way, hoping it would convey your desire for him to no longer pursue his line of questioning. “Y/N Y/L/N, I swear to any and all higher powers, if you mean to tell me that you just heard your soulmate while standing in my fucking kitchen, I will murder you!”

Your silence seems to be answer enough, and Ben lets out a screech, before planting his large hands over your shoulders, and pushing you towards the front door. “Ben! What to hell are you doing?” You squawk, as he marches you out of his apartment, and down the three flights of stairs that lead to the main entrance. “Seriously Ben, the oven is still on, you shouldn’t leave an oven unattended!”

Ben ignores you, removing one hand from your shoulder, for just long enough to open the double glass doors, before pushing you out and onto the street. “You will stand out here singing, until your soulmate finds you.”

Your mouth hangs open, as you turn to look at the triumphant grin on your best friend’s face. He genuinely looks proud of this plan he has come up with, and it worries you that he doesn’t seem to recognise the many, MANY flaws in this plan. “So what, I’m just supposed to stand out here for the rest of my life then? Ben your apartment is on a bloody main road! Whoever it was, was probably just driving past!”

“Well here’s a good way to figure that out, can you still hear singing?”

You stop dead in your tracks, scowling at the blonde. You had been so preoccupied with being physically dragged outside, that you had stopped paying any attention to the song playing in your head. “Well, the song’s changed.” You mutter, listening to the chorus of the Phantom of the Opera theme. You had to give your soulmate credit where it was due, whoever they were, they could certainly carry a tune. Though perhaps opera wasn’t their strong suit….

“I promise to put everything for your cake in the fridge alright? You can finish it off later on, but for now, I don’t want to see you back in my apartment for at least the next hour alright?”

---

Getting caught in the rain after work. Pairing: Roger Taylor x Reader

The phone rings, once, twice, three times. Neither you nor your fellow receptionist feel the desire to answer the incoming call, both of you knowing what the person on the other end of the line is after. It’s always the same, a patient will call up, desperate the see a Doctor immediately, paying no mind to the fact that they have just called on a Monday morning, three hours after the GP clinic had opened. You couldn’t count how many times you had been yelled at today by patients who couldn’t get their way.

“I got the last one.” Jean smirks, gesturing to the incoming call with a pen.

“Oh, I didn’t realise we were keeping tally of how many calls we had answered today.” You grin back, swivelling in your chair to face the phone. Despite the constantly ringing phones, there had been an unexpected, but not unwanted lull in patients these past ten minutes, allowing yourself and Jean to take a bit of a breather from the chaos the morning had brought with it.

“Good morning, general practitioners’ clinic, Y/N speaking.” You greet, as you pick up the receiver, a friendly smile pasted over your lips. Rule one of working in a Doctor’s clinic, always speak with a smile in your voice.

“I’m dying.” A soft melodic voice wails through the line, causing you to pause mid-sentence. You would recognise that voice anywhere, whether you necessarily wanted to or not.

“Mister Taylor, I can assure you, you are not dying.” Jean turns to face you, raising a knowing eyebrow. She had played witness to what she called, yours and Mister Taylor’s ‘flirting’ for months now.

“And how do you know that?”

“Well, according to you Mister Taylor-“

“It’s Roger.”

“Sorry, Roger. According to you, you have been dying for the past week and a half. Either you had better hurry up and die, or recover immediately.”

The line goes silent for a moment, and you almost think that perhaps Roger had hung up. “Do you talk to all your patients like this?”

“No, only you.”

“Oh, well I’m honoured then.” There’s a soft laugh that breaks through Roger’s voice, and you can almost picture the cocky grin he’s sporting. He thinks he’s won, he always does. You know exactly how this conversation will end, it’s the same way your conversations have always ended. “So, will you let me take you out sometime soon? There’s a new pub that’s opened up on main, looks like it’s a little less dodgy than some of the others around.”

You pull the phone away from your lips to groan.

---

John Deacon has a new room-mate who doesn’t understand that paying the drums late at night is NOT socially acceptable. Pairing: Roger Taylor x Reader

You press your face into your pillow with almost too much force, just escaping from bruising your nose, while your hands clamp down over your ears, a second pillow arched over the back of your head, the sides pressed firmly against the shell of your ear. Three weeks this had been going on, for three whole weeks, you found yourself attempting to fall asleep every night, with a pile of pillows threatening to suffocate you. Why, you may be asking? Well for three weeks straight, your usually quiet next-door neighbour had had someone staying with him, and that someone had clearly decided bringing a drum kit with him, was a phenomenal idea! Of course, you wouldn’t mind the drumming if it occurred during the day, but for some reason, this person had decided the ideal time to practise, was from ten in the evening onwards. Surely you couldn’t be the only one in your apartment building who had an issue with the late night percussionist? Though maybe they were all the same as you, unsure how to approach the subject of asking them to stop? You had known John Deacon for a few months now, he had moved in back in July, and you had had a few fleeting conversations with the gentle man, mostly when you happened to cross paths while collecting mail, or taking out the garbage. during those chats, he never seemed like the type of person to condone such ungodly behaviour. Though you suppose, looks can be deceiving. So, after three weeks and two days of only sleeping for close to three hours a night, you decided to finally take matters into your own hands. By writing a well worded letter.

“Dear Mr John Deacon’s housemate. If you could please refrain from playing your drums in the evening, during the time period where most people are attempting to sleep, that would be greatly appreciated. While I have no issues with your drumming in general, I do have an issue with you practising so late in the day. Perhaps you would consider playing in the afternoon instead, whilst most occupants of this apartment building, are at work? Kind regards, Y/N.”

You smile triumphantly down at the letter, folding it neatly before placing it into an envelope, leaving it unsealed, then resting it on your kitchen counter, you would drop it off on your way to work. Curling up back on your bed, you turn a pointed glare towards your bedroom wall, the thin plaster being all that separated you from the obnoxious drummer. “One way or another, I will make you stop drumming.” You grumble, before returning to your original position, of being buried beneath your pillows.

By the time your alarm clock sprang to life, you had managed to squeeze in another two hours of sleep, which made for a record four and a half hours of sleep for the night! You groan, as you pull yourself out from the comfort of your bed, scrubbing your palms over your face. As you pad into the bathroom, you scarcely want to look at yourself in the mirror, the bags beneath your eyes having grown progressively darker these past few weeks. Even your workmates had begun to notice how sleep deprived you were, you’re typically cheerful demeanour was being drowned out by your constant yawning, and continuous coffee consumption. You make quick work of getting ready for the day, throwing your hair up into a bun at the crown of your head, before applying a light coverage of makeup, just enough to try and hide the purple shadows of your eyes. It does little to help, and as the fluorescent light of your bathroom shines down on you, it occurs to you that you like just a tad corpse like. “Sexist dead girl there is…” You smirk, as you swipe a red lipstick across you lower lip.

Back in your bedroom, you rummage through your closet for a clean shirt and skirt, before making a mental note to do laundry when you get home. Hopping on the spot, you simultaneously kick on one of your brown heels, whilst also buttoning up the pale pink blouse you had chosen for the day. You swap legs for the other shoe, as you tuck your shirt into your cream coloured skirt, fastening the zipper, before adjusting the waist band so the decorative brown buttons sat at your hips. Finally, after a couple of minutes of searching, you retrieve your purse from under your bed, frowning at yourself for placing it in such an awkward place.

Your shoes click against the tiled floor of your kitchen as you contemplate making a cup of coffee before leaving for the day, glancing up at the clock hung high on the wall, you realise you don’t have the time, and dart towards the front door. You skid to a stop just before the front door swings shut, holding your hand out to keep the door open, as you use your free hand to rummage through your purse, ensuring your key was there. It wouldn’t be the first time you had allowed the door to shut, with your key on the complete opposite side of where you needed it to be, just last week you had allowed this to happen while you went grocery shopping. It had ended up being a hard lesson learned, not to mention expensive, once the locksmith had made his appearance.

Upon finding your key safely hidden at the bottom of your bag, you turn towards your neighbour, marching the short distance to his apartment. Stopping in front of John’s door, you tighten your grip on the envelope in your right hand. Perhaps half an hour or so ago, you had heard the door slam shut, but you had no way of knowing if both occupants had left, or just one. You contemplate knocking, to hand the letter to whoever may be inside, but quickly think better of it, and slip the think envelope between the door and the doorframe, either someone would find it when they arrived home, of it would fall to the floor in front of whoever opened the door from inside the apartment. With a spring in your step, you made your way downstairs, and out to the street walking towards the Doctor’s clinic where you worked. A smile tugging at your lips, as you imagined a peaceful night, with absolutely no drumming.

*****

A deep frown had settled over Roger’s brow, as he held the letter between fisted hands, sitting at the dining table inside Deaky’s apartment. “What the fuck is this?” He snarled, as he read, then reread the letter. He payed little mind to the front door opening, an only bothered to look up when he heard John’s voice break the silence which had filled the room.

“Looks like a letter Rog.” Deaky smirks, as he kicked his shoes off by the door, before folding his arms across his chest and looking at the fuming drummer. “What’s going on?”

Roger tore his gaze away from the neat script he had been staring at for a solid twenty minutes, focusing now on his flatmate. “Nothing, it’s nothing Deaky. Don’t worry about it.” He finally sighed out, folding the letter back into the envelope, and pushing away from the table. He could vaguely recall John mentioning someone who lived in the building by your name, but he hadn’t actually met you, which made the letter you had sent, cut just the little bit more. You had said you didn’t mind his drumming, yet you didn’t want to hear it? Why not! Roger though of himself as a bloody good drummer! Anyone should feel honoured to hear him play, especially for free! “Hey, do you know where Y/N lives?” He called over his shoulder, as he made is way towards the sofa, where he had left his music journal and pencil.

John raised a curious eyebrow, has he moved around the kitchen, setting about to put together some cheese on toast. “Uh yeah, she lives next door, to the right. Why?” It wasn’t like Roger to ask where a woman lived, typically he found that sort of information out for himself.

“No reason, just heard the name around while I was checking for mail today, and realised I didn’t know here is all.”

John narrowed his eyes into a glare, which went unnoticed by Roger, as he began to scribble away in his journal. Roger hadn’t collected the mail today, he had…. Deciding it best to not question Roger’s motives, John continued around the kitchen, the only noises to be heard throughout the apartment were those of the frying pan heating up on the stove, and Roger’s fast moving pencil over paper.

“Deaky, I’m just ducking out for a few minutes, I’ll be back yeah?” Roger didn’t wait for a reply, before darting out into the hall, the paper he had been writing on, folded into quarters. Turning right, just as John had said, Roger steps up to what assumes must be your door. Just as you had done mere hours earlier, he slips the folded paper between the door and door frame.

---

Roger endeavours to sleep with a woman from every country before his 30th birthday. However the woman he picks from France proves to be more of a challenge than originally expected. Pairing: Roger Taylor x Reader

The dingy patchwork sofa bounced precariously as Freddie flopped onto it, pressing himself firmly in between Roger and Brian who had originally been the sole occupants of the sofa. The knitted blanket that was draped over the back slides to the ground, as its resting place is disturbed by the jostling lead singer. Finally, Freddie settles himself, crossing one leg over his knee, and turning his attention entirely on Roger. “How’s your body count looking these days?”

Roger flicks the ash off the end of his cigarette, before taking another drag, blowing the smoke up towards the sky. “Are we talking fucks, or murders?” He asks casually. John peers over at his band mates from his seat on the armchair, frowning somewhat at Roger’s response.

Brian smirks gently, shaking his head at the blonde’s antics, while Freddie lifts an eyebrow up at him. “For interests’ sake, let’s say both…” He finally decides, lighting a smoke between his lips, breathing in deeply.

“25, 67.” He states simply, stretching his legs out on the rug beneath the sofa, digging his toes into the soft material. This time, John’s expression changes from that of mild interest, to one of pure intrigue, a smirk forming over his lips.

“I can’t tell if that’s an unusually high number of murders or strangely low number of fucks.” Brian teases, reaching his arm around Freddie to punch Roger’s shoulder playfully.

Roger rolls his eyes, taking another long drag from his dwindling cigarette. “One of those numbers will be going up this weekend too.”

Freddie squints at the drummer, as he assesses which number they were currently discussing. Deciding to give the blonde the benefit of the doubt, he figured he was about raise his ‘fuck’ number, rather than ‘murder’ number. “And do tell dear Roger, who is the lucky lady to be?”

John lets out a loud chuckle, causing the three men to look over at him, all with equal questioning looks adorning their features. “Oh don’t look at me like that. Especially you Rog, I know damned well who you’re talking about!”

A pair of piercing blue eyes squint at John from across the room, the bassist grinning at the drummer. “Just to make sure we’re on the same page, who are you talking about Deaky?”

John rolls his eyes, before begrudgingly pushing himself up and out of the armchair he had made himself comfortable in, strutting his way over to the back of the rehearsal studio. Pinned to the far wall is a world map, currently with pins stuck all across Europe, signifying where Queen would be next touring. “If my suspicions are correct, I believe Roger will be taking a bit of a drive across the border tonight.” John grins wickedly, gesturing with his index finger to France

---

Song fic - Jet Lag by Simple plan Pairing: Roger Taylor x Reader (Could easily be changed to another Queen member if that what y’all would like to see!)

You collapse on your bed, sinking into the plush blankets, and massive pile of decorative pillows, it had been a long, and lonely week. It felt as if the standard five-day work week you had just endured, had been going on for at least a month. Though according to the red crosses on your calendar, it really was Friday the 1st, and not in fact Friday the 29th like it felt. The lonely part stemmed from the lack of company in your apartment over this past week, your boyfriend/ partner in crime, Roger Taylor was currently on tour with the rest of Queen, somewhere in Australia. While he had been away, your old school friend had come to stay while you had the house to yourself, but she had left for a business trip on Monday leaving you once again alone. You settle yourself more comfortably against your pillows, tilting your head back and to the side, keeping your eyes on the phone on your bedside table, just waiting for it to ring. Any minute now, you knew it would ring, and the anticipation of who would be calling had your heart racing.

The cool metal of Roger’s watch lay in your palm, and you clasped your fingers around the gold, circular face, rubbing your thumb gently against the glass. Just as you go to glance down at the time, the phone lets out a shrill ring. Once, twice, there isn’t a third. You dart your arm out quickly, and pick up the receiver, a wide grin spreading over your lips, showing off all your teeth. “Hello…” You ask softly with a bated breath.

“Y/N? Hi luv.” Roger’s smooth voice sends chills down your spine, goose bumps appearing over your arms.

“What time is it where you are?”

“I’m in Sydney currently, and it is 9:15am. How about you?”

“6:15pm here, I just got home from work.”

“God, trying to figure out these time zones is making me crazy.”

“Hey, at least we’re doing better than at the beginning of the week. You were saying good morning, when it was midnight!”

“I just hate the thought of you alone. Five more days then I’ll be home.”

As if on cue, a rotund tortoiseshell cat leaps onto the end of the bed, purring loudly as she rubbed up against your toes. “I wouldn’t exactly say I’m alone. Misty just joined me, I think she misses you too.”

You can hear Roger’s smile through the phone, and you grin softly yourself. Misty had been a rather unexpected addition to your household. One of Freddie’s cats had escaped his home one afternoon and had gone missing for an entire night. She returned the next day, and soon after, Freddie found himself a grandfather, and having to re-home five kittens. Never one to turn a stray away, you had leapt at the chance of adopting the kitten.

---

John Deacon forgets the bass line to Under Pressure, but who is the cause of his forgetfulness? Pairing: John Deacon x Reader

Miami found himself with four identical faces of shock staring at him as he stood in the recording studio, none of the band members were blinking, he wasn’t even entirely sure they were breathing either to be honest.

“I’m sorry, you’re going to have to repeat that darling.” Freddie was the first to break the silence, lifting a quizzical eyebrow at the manager before him.

Miami shook his head, an exasperated huff escaping his lips. “I said, David Bowie wants to record with you lot, he’ll be dropping by the studio in a week with some suggestions of his own, and I think it would be a good idea if you lot try to come up with something too.” He was met with more staring, and frankly it was becoming rather off putting. “Would you rather I call him back and say you don’t want to record with him?”

“No!” The four men shouted at once, no longer the statues they had been before.

“What we mean is, we would hate for you to disturb Mr Bowie, and would love to record with him.” John pipes up, ever the diplomat.

Brian nods along in agreement, while Roger and Freddie quickly begin discussing what it would be like to meet David. “We’ll come up some lyrics and tunes to show him.” Brian offers, grinning at their manager. It does little to reassure Miami, though all he can do is hope they don’t show up empty handed when Bowie arrives.

“I could do a massive drum solo halfway through the song.” Roger declares, waving his arms around like a crazed man. It was obvious to John that Roger was unimpressed with the album they were currently recording, though he couldn’t help but think that one drum solo wasn’t quite enough to get him to stop bitching about the other songs. “Or a bongo solo! Everyone likes bongo’s, right?”

“Darling, I refuse to have bongos on this song.” Freddie interjects, and John can’t help but grin as Roger’s face falls, he looks like a sulking child, which is more or less what he currently is.

“How do you know Bowie doesn’t like bongos?”

“Roger, shut up about the bongos.” John groans, as he turns on his heel to collect his bass where he had left it near one of the amps. It was one thing to listen to Roger complain, it was another to listen to him complain while not doing anything productive. John’s fingers slide over the strings of his bass, plucking a few chords at random as he closes his eyes, trying to picture a rhythm of some sort. There had been a few chords playing around in his head lately, though he hadn’t gotten the chance to play them as of yet.

‘Dun dun dun dadada dun’ his bass echoes the notes, as he plays them on repeat, bobbing his head along to the jazzy beat. The tune seemed to bleed into his soul as he played, and he soon found himself lost in the music. It was a simple rhythm, only a few chords, but he felt it had potential.

“That’s really good Deaky.” Brian grins, coming over to stand beside him, watching John’s fingers play across the strings. Freddie joins soon after, holding one of Roger’s drumsticks in his left hand. A smile plays across his lips, hidden behind his bushy moustache.

“It certainly has potential.” He offers, as he snaps his fingers on the second and fourth beat. Brian does the same, and soon Roger is joining in on his kick drum. “Next step, come up with a lyric.” Freddie chuckles, as John places his bass back down, a smug smile on his lips.

“Wait, you guys think this is actually decent?” He asks stunned, his eyebrows creasing together, waiting for someone to start laughing, and to state it was all just a joke.

“Really John, if we can get the lyrics down, then I want to show this to Bowie.” Freddie grins broadly, as he returns his stolen drumstick to its rightful owner.

“I’m with Fred, just imagine having David, and Freddie’s voices singing along with that bass line, it’ll be an instant hit!” Brian supplies with an equally large smile. John takes a moment to take in what his bandmates were telling him, they truly liked what he had come up with, even if it was rather simple.

“I have one condition.” He declares, folding his arms across his chest. “And it isn’t negotiable.” All eyes are on him again, awaiting his next words in anticipation. “There will be absolutely no bongos on this song!”

“Fuck you Deacon!” Roger cries in outrage, throwing his drumstick with acute precision towards John’s head. Luckily, John knew what to expect from Roger these days, and easily stepped out of his firing line.

“If we agree with John, do we run the risk of having the drums thrown at us?” Brian chuckles quietly to Freddie, who instantly looks fearfully towards the drum kit.

“How about we go get some lunch?” Freddie sings out, waltzing his way towards the doors to the studio. Roger mutters under his breath as he follows him out, John can’t quite hear what he’s saying, though he’s sure it’s about bongos. Brian leaves next, and John takes up the rear. Freddie leads the group for a few minutes, in search of somewhere for lunch, they pass by their go to pub, with Freddie insisting he knew of somewhere far better and that it was just around the corner.

*********

Just around the corner turned out to mean a twenty-minute walk, which had Roger grumbling the entire way.

“Just turn back if you’re going to complain the whole time.” Brian groans, which only increases Roger’s complaining. It was starting to grate on John’s nerves, he often forgot just how petulant the man could be.

“I’m gonna head-“ He began, before being interrupted by Freddie’s loud declaration of them having arrived at their destination.

“Go on, get in you’ll love this place!” Freddie grins, as he ushers the three others inside. The entire front wall of the café is windows, allowing the midday sun to stream in, warming everyone up on the cold winter’s day. Wooden chairs, with patchwork cushions sit nestled among wooden tables, each with a different mosaic design on top. The floor is covered in mismatched rugs, some more faded than others, but overall giving the café a warm and inviting feel. A young woman, with flaming red ringlets smiles brightly at the group, picking up four leather bound menus.

“Good afternoon! Will you be dining with us today?” She asks sweetly, her eyes falling on Roger almost instantly. “Roger Taylor, I don’t know if I should let you in. Y/N wouldn’t want you here.”

Roger has the decency to blush at her words, ducking his head low, allowing his hair to flop over his forehead. “Is Y/N here today?”

The hostess frowns, placing a hand on her hip. “Of course she’s here! She owns the bloody place!”

Roger gulps, shuffling his feet on the floor awkwardly. “We can go somewhere else, it’s not a problem.” John suggests, shrugging his shoulders slightly. They were all hungry, but there were other places to eat. Plus, he wasn’t entirely sure he wanted to know what Roger had done to the owner, knowing him, probably a one-night stand or something of the likes.

The hostess frowns once more, before sighing. “Follow me, I’ll tell Y/N that you’re here Roger.” She instructs as she leads them all to a four-seater table, placing the menus down in the centre before walking to the bar. Roger buries his head in one of the menus, ignoring the outside world as best he can. The few patrons of the café stare and whisper, pointing to the band. Nothing they weren’t used to at this stage of fame, though they could go without it some days, especially when trying to get a bite to eat.

John, Brian and Freddie each take a quick glance at their menus, before looking between one another, all of them with the same question running through their minds. “Roger Darling, what did you do to the owner of this fine establishment?” Freddie finally asks.

He looks up from his menu, biting his lower lip nervously, if it weren’t for the fact there was a strict no smoking sign on the entrance, John was sure Roger would be rolling a cigarette instead. “Oh, you know. She’s just another one of my college conquests is all.”

“Conquest my ass! You can shove that excuse up your ass Taylor.” You grumble, as you stand beside the table, glaring solely at the blonde man before you. You turn your attention to the other men at the table, you weren’t ignorant, you knew who they were, you had kept track of what Roger was up to over the years, it was hard not to, given how much publicity Queen got. “I knew this idiot in college, while he was studying to be a dentist still. I complained to him I had a toothache once, so he decided to punch me square in the jaw, in an effort to remove the painful tooth. He took out one of my bloody molars, which was great expect for the fact that it was a canine that hurt!” You grumble, taking out a notepad and pen to take their orders. “Then, he runs off with you lot, and never returns, leaving me with the dental bill!”

Roger has his head resting against the table now, Freddie and Brain are laughing, and John isn’t sure whether to kick Roger for his idiocy or to comfort the woman. He had spent the time she was telling her tale, to study her. She was beautiful, a quiet subdued sort of beauty, that really shone through when she was passionate about something, just as she was now. “I told you I was drunk at the time, you said it was fine for me to take a look at your mouth!” Roger protested loudly.

“There is a difference between taking a look at my mouth, and punching me!” You cry out, before lowering your voice, not wanting to cause a scene in front of your patrons. You take a deep breath in, before plastering a smile on your lips, brushing your hair behind your ear. “Welcome to The Hideout, what can I get you today?”

John grinned up at you, finding your ability to jump between casual and professional rather impressive. You caught his eye and winked, as you tapped your pen against your notepad, awaiting the band’s orders.

Freddie is the first to speak, smiling up at you. “Could we get a large margarita pizza to share please darling? And, four pints of whatever you have on tap please?”

You raise an eyebrow at Roger, who was attempting to make a fort out of the menus on the table. “I’ll get you three beers. I don’t trust blondie over here to drink.” You smirk, before it turns into a smile directed at John.

“Hey! Why don’t I get to drink!”

Brian chuckles quietly, before gesturing to the menu fort. “It may have something to do with your inability to behave like an adult.” He shrugs, curly hair bouncing over his shoulders as he does so.

---

For everything else that I’ve written, feel fee to check out my MASTERLIST You’ll find a heap of Queen, BohRhap, 6 Underground, Labyrinth and Night at the museum!

#roger taylor fanfic #joe mazzello fanfic #john deacon fanfic #roger taylor #joe mazzello #John Deacon #ben hardy #Brian May #freddie mercury #fanfiction #queen band fanfiction #soulmate fanfic #fanfic ideas #fan fiction suggestions

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ella-se-vuelve-loca · 5 years ago

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Masquerade Ball | Whoever You Want

HELLOOOO I’M HERE AGAIN WRITING ANOTHER SMUT BC MY HOE ASS NEEDS SOMETHING TO QUENCH MY THIRST LMAOOOO

Warnings: SMUT, PUBLIC SEX, NOT SUITABLE FOR YOUNG AND INNOCENT EYES (+18)

I really hope this isn’t shit lmao I’m still new at this sksksks

Masterlist

Wanna be tagged in future fics?

“Hello um excuse me, but I couldn’t help but notice you this evening.” I looked to my left and noticed a very handsome man stand before me. As cheesy as it sounds, his face looked like it was carved by the Gods. Wow. Before I could even reply, he continued. “At a masquerade ball, there always seems to be someone who catches your eye but, you appear to be something different.” I raised my eyebrow and smiled. “Is that so?” He nodded.

“I haven’t been able to stop watching you all night. I hope that’s not too forward to say, but you are looking simply exquisite.” I felt my cheeks tingle with heat as he complimented me. “I didn’t get your name. Mr...?” He just chuckled and came a little closer to me, though I didn’t quite notice because my focus was on his eyes, that were just so captivating. “I would introduce myself, but that does kind of defeat the purpose of the masquerade ball, don’t you think?” I glanced down at a moment, and looked back up at his gorgeous features. “Don’t you want to break the rules, just for tonight? I would like to know who I’m speaking with.”

“At these type of masquerade balls, well, let’s just say that people don’t always concern themselves with names anyway.” I brought a strand of my hair and placed it behind my ear. “Oh..” It became quiet between us until he broke the silence. “So, mi amor, you are looking simply phenomenal tonight.” I smiled at him. “Well, you aren’t looking so bad either.”

“I would like to invite you to walk with me. In the garden maybe?” I bit my lip and felt nervousness and excitement start to slowly creep up on me. “What are we going to do?” He glanced up and down my body quickly before answering. “Well,” he smiled, “just for a simple walk.” I turned and looked at everyone in the room. They all shared the same look in their eyes.

“I may have an ulterior motive, but then again so does everyone else indulging in their little carnal pleasures. I don’t think that really exactly matters. I don’t think they’ll notice us slipping off. After all, at these sorts of parties it’s almost expected.” Turning my attention back at him, I noticed him waiting for me.

“Come.” He held out his hand for me to take. “Walk with me.” I was in some sort of trance as I felt myself nod and take his hand with my own, as we made our way outside. “Are you enjoying yourself here tonight?” He chuckled and glanced down at me. “Yes, I am. I hope that you’re having a good time as well.” I nodded. “Indeed, I am.” We continued to walk until we reached a rail as we leaned against it. “Fantastic food and drink.. excellent company and the festivities are excellent, as to be expected.” Well, he is quite the flirt. His eyes drifted to the window.

“Look, you can see them from here.” I turned and peeked to where he was looking at. “All those people inside, enjoying themselves. Stating their passions... giving into the lust that overtakes them. All those respectable people. By day.. lawyers, doctors, accountants and by night..” I felt him come close to me where I could feel his hard-on press against me. “Simply by adorning a mask, they turn into these primal beasts with no other motivation than to simply fuck.” I felt my body stiffen as he slowly moved my hair away from my shoulder and placed a soft kiss.

“So what about you princesa? Did you come here to... indulge?” I slowly turned to look at him, and he gave me a small smile after confirming what he saw. “I can see that look in your eye, and it gives me all the answer that I need.” He continued to leave small kisses on my shoulder as his hands traveled up and down my waist. “I did say I came here with an ulterior motive. I don’t think it was hidden very well, do you?” I shook my head leaned my head towards the side to give him more access. He kissed his way up my neck and whispered in my ear. “Turn around, put your hands on the rail and spread your legs.”

I stood shocked for a moment. I looked up at him as he nodded his head towards the rail, indicating that I follow his instructions. I turned so my back was towards him, placed my palms on the rail and spread my legs for him. Just like he said. I could feel him crouch down and run his fingers up my leg. “What beautiful thighs you have... and your lingerie is simply devine.” I felt goosebumps run through my body.

“I can feel you trembling at my touch, mi amor. I do hope that you’re not.. nervous.” He slowly brought his body back up and pressed my back to his front. “See, I too am one of those primal beasts you see inside. However, my passions run a little more controlled.” I felt my throat become dry as I tried to find my voice. His fingers ran up and down my arms as I heard him whisper in my ear. “Now... I’m going to have you. I’m going to take you and claim you for tonight.” His kisses below my ear playfully bites on my earlobe.

“This is your last opportunity. Do you want me to stop?” I shook my head and felt his smile against my neck. “I didn’t think so.” I heard him unbuckle his pants and lift my dress up above my waist. I felt his dick press against my entrance and slowly pushed inside of me. Holy shit... he’s so big.

“Now I can feel how wet you are...” He started to thrust into me at a slow pace, letting me get used to his size. Soft moans escaped our lips as I closed my eyes. This feels so good.

“Aaahh mi amor... now I understand exactly why I was so enthralled by you. Because the feel of you around me.. mmm es increíble.” I was so lost in the moment that I had completely forgotten who I was for a second. “And I can sense exactly how much you’re enjoying this as well.” The sound of skin slapping together and soft moans were all I could hear in this very moment. Nothing else matter in this moment of time except me and my mystery man.

“I can feel your body just clenching around me.. aahhh..” My hands gripped onto the rail tighter and arched my back slightly. “Ooohh f - fuck..” I moaned out. “I imagine that when you picked out that lingerie this evening, you knew exactly what you were getting yourself into.” He’s right, I have to be honest. I was asking for this and now I'm getting it.

“Look at them inside... they came here with one thing on their mind. To fuck, just like we are.” He leaned closer to me and kissed the back of my shoulder. I could only answer him back with moans. “I can see the hairs on your neck stand up.. mmm it makes me want to sink my teeth into your neck and mark you as mine as I burry myself inside of you.” He left a small trail of hickies as his thrusts started to become a little sloppy. I felt his breath against my body as he shuddered and moaned out. “I can feel myself getting close.. mmm.. I wanna f - finish inside of you, but I don’t want this to end right now.”

All coherent thoughts left my brain as I felt myself getting closer. “Aaahh this feels too good.” His panting became heavier. “I don’t.. know h- how much lo - longer I can hold my.. s - self.. aahh..” His hands on my waist gripped tighter as he came inside of me. “I can’t hold back mi amor... fuck..” I felt my entire body shake as my orgasm washed over me.

“I feel like my legs will give away beneath me.” He joked. He pulled out and we stood there trying to catch our breath. Did we actually just fuck outside? “Let us.. let us compose ourselves before we head back inside.” I turned my body towards him as he leaned down and captured my lips with his. “I must say, it has been a most pleasurable experience. I trust, you feel the same amor?” I brought my hands up to the back of his neck and brought him down to kiss his soft lips once again. “Yes. I most certainly do.”

“Now, may I offer you my arm and escort you back inside?” I took his arm without hesitation as we walked back inside. Before the end of the night, he had slipped me a piece of paper that read...

“I enjoyed tonight. I hope to meet up with you again soon. x” and left his number at the very bottom. I’ll be sure to take up that offer.

AAANNDDD MY SECOND SMUT EVER IS NOW COMPLETE LMAOOO

I HOPE Y’ALL ENJOYED! PLEASE BE SURE TO LIKE/COMMENT AND REBLOG IF YOU LIKE IT SLKNASNXS;A IM SORRY IF ITS SHIT LMAO

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wolfpawn · 5 years ago

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I Hate You, I Love You, Chapter 9

Chapter Summary - Taylor's little plan comes to fruition, leading to Tom and Benedict coming to verbal blows.Danielle becomes distressed at what is done, but Benedict comes up with a little plan to help everything.

Previous Chapter

Rating - Mature (some chapters contain smut)

Triggers - references to Tom Hiddleston’s work with the #MeToo Movement. That chapter will be tagged accordingly.

authors Note - I have been working on this for the last 3 years, it is currently 180+ chapters long. This will be updated daily, so long as I can get time to do so, obviously.

If you wish to be tagged, please let me know.

tags: @sweetkingdomstarlight-blog @jessibelle-nerdy-mum @nonsensicalobsessions @damalseer

The source stated that the pictures shown are clearly visible within Diana Hiddleston’s Suffolk home; and that she will happily show them and more to any who visit. The source also stated however, that to be told some of the A-list actor’s more embarrassing secrets, such as the time he ran stark naked, at eight years of age through a family get together because he cousin dared him to, takes years of earning the family’s trust and planting the idea that such stories in no way interest a person.

Tom stared at the small online article, which was very little writing and mostly photographs, all of him and his sisters as children, all personal ones that he knew his mother kept as cherished memories, and a few pictures of his mother’s living room and hallway. He shook with anger; he knew who the article was referencing as the ‘source’. The Jones’ that lived down from his mother were good at giving friendly salutes, but nothing more and the Kaleka’s were polite, but they were too young to really bother with his mother, both of them were the one age with him; that left only one person, one that he knew did know those stories, since he was dying of mortification as his mother relayed them to her in the living room one afternoon in his presence; Danielle. Taylor had been right all along, Danielle had been simply biding her time until she could strike and make some money for herself.

Picking up his phone, he went to call Luke to deal with it, and to see what he could do about getting Danielle sorted with an NDA. It was then he realised he had a missed call, so calling his voicemail; he put his ear up to it. It was Benedict, much to his surprise, and going by his message, he had seen the piece. Feeling somewhat vindicated, Tom pressed the callback button.

“Tom.” Benedict’s voice seemed somewhat relieved at the other side of the phone. “I am glad you called back.”

“I get it, you were wrong, she had everyone fooled,” Tom stated sympathetically.

“What?”

“Danielle, her big piece she is after giving the tabloids. Taylor said it would happen, and she was right.”

“Danielle, no you got it all wrong Tom, I was talking to her there a minute ago, Taylor was threatening her.”

“They’ve never even spoken, so that’s bullshit.” Tom dismissed. “Are you actually defending her?”

“Danielle? No, I’m not, because there’s nothing to defend. I have no idea what you are even on about.”

“She sold off a story to the papers, pictures from within my mum’s home; stories about me.”

“Are they really personal?”

“Not really, but she is probably saving them for next.”

“Tom, seriously, she knows some of your more personal stuff, she would not tell a little and not tell that, it’s not her, whoever your leak is, it’s not Danielle.”

“And you know this for sure?”

“Well, no, but I really doubt it, she is not the kind.”

“Are you fucking her?” Tom accused.

There was silence on the other side of the line for a moment. “Excuse me?”

“Are you fucking her? You seem really defensive of her.”

“Are you shitting me, Tom, I have a wife and kid and you are asking me if I am shagging your mother’s neighbour? A woman that lives three hours away? What the hell is going on in your head?”

“Well, you seemed all too cosy going into her house before, and you were talking to her earlier.”

“She’s…”

“What, turning up near you? That’s a bit convenient, isn’t it? Be careful or you will be next.”

“Tom, are you actually listening to yourself, you know Danielle would never fuck a married man, and I damn well would never fuck a woman that is not my wife.” Benedict snapped. “I came on to tell you to watch out for your little sweetheart, but it’s clear she’s screwed you up already, I hope she’s worth it, I really do.”

With that, the line went dead, leaving Tom staring at it angrily before tossing it onto the couch. He rubbed his hands over his face and sighed. Anytime of late that Elle’s name came up in any conversation, it was immediately followed by anger and arguments. His phone went off, telling him he had a text, so he walked over and read it.

Taylor – I told you, OMG I told you.

He did not know what to say back, so he tossed it down on the couch again, before crashing down beside it and wondering what he could do.

Benedict looked at the phone, shaking in anger at what Tom was insinuating.

“Did I actually hear that right?” Sophie asked from beside him, holding Christopher’s hands as he tried to walk a few steps.

“Apparently I am shagging his mother’s neighbour, just a heads up.”

“Nice of you to tell me,” Sophie replied jokingly.

“If it is any consolation, I didn’t know myself until a moment ago.”

Sophie scoffed. “Was that the paramedic I saw you and Will taking to?”

“Yep.”

“She’s pretty.”

“She is, I suppose, I have a wife so I would not be looking.” He grinned back. “Apparently, she’s taken anyway; I heard her on the phone yesterday to a guy, Paul, setting up a date.”

“That’ll put the brakes on any relationship you two are secretly having.” Sophie laughed.

“It is highly inappropriate of her to do so when we are supposed to be having a somewhat interesting, illicit and albeit highly false affair. God; that is the most insulting thing I have ever heard from a supposed friend, and honestly, I am not sure who it is more insulting to.”

“I’m not sure,” Sophie admitted, leaning in as Benedict placed his arm around her. “What are you going to do?”

“Danielle is on set again this evening, I might see her there.”

“At least it did not name her.”

“Yet.”

“Do you think she knows?”

“How can she not? God this is ridiculous. What is going on Sophie?”

Sophie shook her head slightly. “I have no idea, Tom is so…”

“Before this, I would have said, level-headed, intelligent and calm, but now…now it’s like there is something that has clicked off in his head, I feel like shaking him to get him to wake up again. He really thinks she did this.”

“Could she have?”

“Well, anyone can do anything, but would it be her nature; from what I have seen, no, I really don’t think she did, she seemed too hurt by everything that has happened, but not in a malicious manner.”

“Well, perhaps tonight will bring more of it to light.” She smiled. *

“Are you alright?” Benedict asked, looking at the paramedic in front of him.

It turned out, Danielle did not know about the article, she always avoided celebrity pages, thinking them to be unbearable at best. When Benedict began to talk to her about the piece, she genuinely had no clue as to what he was referencing, and when he showed her, she shook with horror at what it implied.

“It’s me, they are talking about me, as though I did this. Like I told them.” Tears began to form in her eyes. “I never…I would never…”

“I know.” Benedict gave her a hug. “She told you she would get you, and this is her revenge.”

“If Diana…”

“If Diana believes this then I will eat my Sherlock Holmes hat.” Danielle gave a laugh that was half a sob. “She is trying to get you to be forced away from the family, it is an effective method, I’ll grant her that.”

“I…How can I prove it is not me, Emma is one of my greatest friends and Diana…I cannot lose her, she is the only one I can really talk to since my mum…”

Benedict did not know very much of Danielle’s circumstances, he only recognised her accent as one of the Irish ones he had worked around before, so he established from that she was Irish, that and a few pictures he had seen in her home of Irish landscapes, but the manner which she spoke told him, that at the very least, her mother had passed away. “Diana has always seen through her too, you said that yourself, no one thinking clearly would think it is you, you have to believe that.”

“But even if they do, there will always be a slight niggling feeling in the back of their mind that perhaps I am not as trustworthy as they thought.”

“Is there anything I can do to help?”

“Not unless you can prove it was her.”

“I really wish I could.” He smiled sadly; before he furrowed his brow. “Perhaps.”

“What?”

“I have a little idea.”

“There’s nothing you can do about this.”

“Yes, I can.”

“I am really scared about this, what if it backfires on you?”

Benedict gave her warm smile. “I’m a big boy, I can handle myself. Besides, it will be harmless really, nothing that can do any harm. Just get on with your job in stopping us from killing ourselves here and don’t concern yourself about it.”

“Thank you, though I don’t know why you are so concerned with helping me, but I glad you are.”

“I want my good friend to see sense, as do you. I know we are not well acquainted, but our concern for him is enough for this to work.”

“I really hope you are right.”

When Danielle left, Benedict took out his phone and scrolled down, pressing call when he got to Tom’s number. At first, he thought it was going to ring out, but in the end, the other actor answered. “Yes?” it was curt and somewhat angry.

“Are you free on Thursday?” Benedict asked.

“I am in LA on Thursday,” Tom responded bluntly.

“I know, so am I, Sophie and I would love to actually see you face to face for a change, maybe talk?”

“I dunno.”

“Tom, please, there has been so much going on recently, I would actually like to see my friend, my real friend, Tom, remember that guy, smart, well educated, funny.”

“You forgot dashing.” There was a light playfulness to Tom’s tone Benedict had not heard in months.

“Yeah, that’s the idiot, how about we grab lunch then, perhaps, if she is around, actually meet Taylor?”

Tom remained quiet for a moment. “You want to meet her?”

“Yes, I mean, clearly she means a lot to you, so surely, as your friend, it makes sense for us to meet.”

“What about your defending Danielle?”

“Look, I am not going to go too much into that right now.”

“What does that mean?”

“Well, I sort of got talking to her, and now I am worried…”

“That she will sell something on you? Fuck, you too? Was it anything serious?”

“No, just random stuff, but you know me, I don’t like certain parts of my personal life public.”

“Yes, I know. It’s nothing to do with the small guy, is it?”

“No, thankfully.”

“Was she alone with him for even a minute? You and Sophie have worked really hard to keep the camera off him.”

Benedict was forced to bite his lip from retorting in reference to Tom allowing a camera be shoved in his niece’s face as he accused his hardworking, good neighbour of photographing Christopher to sell his pictures. “No, well for a moment to go to the bathroom.”

“Shit. We will meet Thursday so, we can discuss it then.”

“And Taylor?”

“She is more famous than we are, she knows what it is like, she has her own things to be thinking about, she won’t say anything.”

“Perfect.” Benedict prayed his conniving smile would not alter his tone over the phone and rise Tom’s suspicions. “Until then man, usual spot?”

“See you then.” Tom’s tone was upbeat. “And Ben, great to actually be talking to you again.”

As Benedict hung up the phone, he looked at it, praying that Tom would not hate him for what he was about to do to save his friend from the worst mistake of his life.

#I Hate you I Love You #chapter 9 #tom hiddleston #tom hiddleston fic

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queerchoicesblog · 5 years ago

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Lost Cause (OH, Aurora & F!MC Friendship, Harper & Aurora)

So I finally wrote a fic about the Emery doctors since I strongly doubt we will get a chance to see this in the original book. Yet I feel like a scene like this should have been part of the story, after what we learned about them over the past few chapters. Set before Ch. 16 on the eve of MC (Meredith Valentine)’s hearing and containing references to my Aurora & F!MC friendship fic, this fanfic deals with a (much needed) confrontation between Aurora and Harper.

Pretty angsty and hopefully bittersweet, as I headcanon them as close in the past: that affection isn’t gone, but things are different now when they’re both doctors at Edenbrook hospital. And a few misunderstandings cloud their minds, even though they speak from the heart out of care. It was tough to write, but I hope I stayed in character! I’d like to think that after this talk, there will be a new beginning for their relationship. Hope you like it!

Word Count: 2800+

Perma Tag: @brightpinkpeppercorn @melodyofgraves @abunchofbadchoices @bhavf @bbaba-yagaa @kennaxval @strangerofbraidwood @crazypeanat

OH Tag: @bubblygothzombie @emeryharper

_________________________

Harper was going through the papers of Dr. Valentine's hearing, sipping a coffee on her couch when her doorbell rang. It was a bit late for a friend stopping by and she wasn't expecting anyone, not the night before a hearing. She stood, groaning, hoping that it wasn't Ethan on the other side of the door. Or even worse, Declan. That creep would be perfectly capable to throw a stunt like that.

But it was none of them. When she opened the door, it was...

"Aurora?"

"Hi...Harper" her niece greeted her, shifting uncomfortably.

"Hi but what...what are you doing here? It’s late?"

"Can I come in?"

Harper looked at her for a moment, before resolving to set aside and let her in.

"I made coffee, do you want some?"

"Yes, why not? I can't sleep anyway"

They both walked to the kitchen.

"How come? What's troubling you?" she inquired, handing her a mug of black coffee.

Aurora took it and a displeased expression curled her lips. She diverted her eyes and muttered:

"As if it's hard to guess"

Harper inhaled sharply and grimaced.

"Rory, please tell me you're not here for tomorrow's hearing"

Aurora met her gaze and looked at her right in the eye, determination in her eyes.

"What if I am?"

"You perfectly know that I can't share any detail nor allow any kind of interference-"

"I know that"

"Then why you're here?" Harper sighed.

Aurora didn't divert her gaze but kept quiet for a moment, searching for the right words to articulate her thoughts.

"When I mess up or do something wrong you, Dr. Mirani, Dad or whoever else don't miss the chance to let me know that I made a mistake. Well, that's why I'm here tonight. You made a mistake. More than just one maybe"

Harper crossed her arms and stiffened. She had already had the most unpleasant phone call with Declan earlier that day, another scolding was exactly what she needed, she thought.

"Because I called the hearing?"

"Yeah, for instance"

"Believe it or not, Dr. Valentine herself asked me to call it. She came to my office, confessed to be the one who injected the unapproved serum to Mrs. Martinez and asked me to call an ethical hearing" Harper shuttered her jaw.

"What?" Aurora gaped, genuinely surprised. She was in the dark of that detail.

"She stated that she wants to stand up for what she believes it's right, to pick her battle. And she wanted a chance to defend her choice at an ethics hearing which I allowed her. But I guess it's easier to put the blame on me, right? The only one who broke the rules is Dr. Valentine, I'm just following the protocol. And for the record, since she confessed me her doing, I wasn't even-"

Aurora had stopped listening to her. She repeated the words of her aunt into her head.

"My God, she did it...she did it for real"

Harper gave her a quizzical look. Aurora met her gaze again.

"That's one more reason why Valentine must win the hearing!"

"Wait wait...it's not that easy, girl. We're not in one of those medical dramas on TV. I must admit I was impressed by her courage too but-"

"Name me one intern, an intern not even a senior doctor, who would do the same? Who has ever done the same?" Aurora challenged her.

Harper opened her mouth to say something but nothing came.

"See? Maybe not even you would have done it!"

Harper sighed.

"Rory..."

"Surely not a single one of those one brain cell interns of that stupid competition you put on!"

"That's not stupid! It-" Harper protested but she was cut short by her niece.

"Maybe it was not in your head but it's utterly stupid! None of them took it seriously. Or better too seriously! But in the wrong way! It's just like high school or worse kindergarten all over again" Aurora groaned. "People only want to win and can't care less for their actual patients. Take Olsen, number two of your ranking, for instance: the other day I heard him say to a kid complaining about pain to toughen up and stop whining cause he couldn't possibly be that much in pain. And it's not the only one I heard saying stuff like that! I got lucky that my surname is Emery but someone's heavily sabotaged Valentine since she got to the top!"

Harper immediately reminisced the pager accident and the talk she had with Dr. Valentine in her office.

"Sabotaged?"

"Yes, with the pager, stolen charts and things like that. Because she was on top!"

Harper pinched her nose.

"That's ridiculous and very serious at the same time. That's not just a petty prank, this is crossing a line and putting our patients in a bad position too. Do you have evidence?"

"No, I don't. I just know, everybody knows"

"That's no good news though. With pieces of evidence, I could have started an investigation. I don't tolerate this in my hospital, under my watch"

"Still, it's partly your doing: if you hadn't come up with that brilliant idea of yours!"

"I did what I thought was right, Rory. And I would do it twice because I believe it is the right thing. Even if there are clearly interns that are utterly immature and don't understand the huge opportunity I gave you all. Because that's what it is. But is that a reason not to do the right thing? That fellowship could be the start of a great career, it's an opportunity none of the doctors I know had when we were in your place. But I cannot hand it to any of you just like that: I must know that you have what it takes to earn it. Even if it means pushing you to the limit. I don't regret it, I'm just disappointed to hear some of the interns are so unworthy of even entering medical school as they have no maturity nor ethics"

Aurora exhaled loudly, taking a sip of her coffee.

"Whatever, it doesn't change the fact that Valentine's career is on the line now"

"Actions have consequences and she made her choice" Harper winced.

"And you made yours"

Harper's gaze hardened as she registered the implications.

"And what's this supposed to mean? What Valentine did was reckless and the charges she's gonna face are very serious!"

"And what about Teresa? Didn't you care for her? Or was that just a lie you told to yourself?"

A flash of fury crossed Harper's gaze as she slammed her own mug on the kitchen counter.

"That's enough, Aurora! Enough! What do you think you know about Teresa? About Teresa and me? You have no right to talk to me like that! So do me a favor and stop assuming things about you as most do lately, and on that note stop assuming the worst about me!"

She paused and took a deep breath to cool off. When she spoke again there was a hint of sadness in her voice.

"Is that what you really think of me?"

Aurora diverted her eyes.

"All I'm saying is...you're so obsessed with rules. I know it's a Chief job but I think that a good doctor knows when to make certain calls if you get what I mean. That's what makes them a good doctor, not just another doctor"

"And I'm clearly not a good doctor while Valentine is, that's what you're saying, right?"

Harper was now looking her right in the eye, waiting for her answer.

"From where I stand, Mrs. Martinez case is so complex and there are so many ethical implications...I don't know if it's right to charge Valentine for her doing. Yes, she broke the rules but Teresa got to live her few days outside the hospital"

"Aurora, I'm glad she got to leave the hospital at last too but that injection could have killed her, for what we know. I was about to read the result of the autopsy but I hope you understand that the scenario you're using to support your admirable defense of your partner is just one of many. The brightest one. The one you're ignoring is way darker and far less pleasant"

Aurora considered her words.

"But what if sometimes there are some risks to take? Like you have to do whatever it-"

"Whatever it takes" Harper repeated mechanically, exhaling loudly in frustration. "Did you talk to Ramsey too?"

"No, but from what I've heard at least Dr. Rams-"

"Ramsey, Ramsey, Ramsey. Always Ramsey! Hundreds of talented professionals at Edenbrook and who's everyone swooning over? Ethan! Because he's so tormented, so compassionate with patients: the knight in shining armor of Edenbrook"

Harper shook her head.

"Do you know what wondrous Ethan did? He quitted! And I've covered for him so far to avoid rumors and chaos! I tried to make him reason and come back to work but no! Drowning your sorrows in a bottle of scotch is way better than fighting back, because yes, Aurora, that's what he's doing right now! And he even stopped answering my calls, anyone's calls! So I'm asking you: is that what you call a good doctor? He is one of the best residents in the diagnostics team and yet he chose alcohol instead. He quitted without giving a damn about the consequences: who's gonna cover his role? Did he say if he's done permanently or not? No, and in the meantime, I have a hole in the diagnostics team with him and Naveen gone and one brilliant doctor less. A doctor who could have helped significantly during the E.R. emergency and every single day, if only he picked up a phone because people don't stop getting sick or hurt when we're down. Everybody hurts, everybody grieves their losses but it's not a good reason to act like that. From where I stand, this is part of the Oath too"

"I didn't know about Dr. Ramsey..." Aurora commented, lowering her gaze.

"Nobody does yet people always assume the best about him" Harper commented sharply.

A tense silence fell into the room. Aurora was the first to speak.

"I didn't mean to say you're a bad doctor. I..I just miss you being you, I guess"

"What do you mean?"

"When you weren't Chief. When you were just my aunt surgeon"

"I'm always the same, Rory"

Harper's voice imperceptibly softened as she tried to reach for her niece's hand but Aurora shook her head, grimacing.

"No, you're not. Stop lying to yourself"

Harper looked taken aback by her last statement so she continued.

"This is not you and you know it, deep inside. You're frozen, stuck...scared maybe? What were you thinking when you signed up for this position? When you were an intern like me, when you were a surgeon, you were happier. Try and tell me I'm wrong! I remember the look on your face, the light in your eyes when you were appointed Head of Neurosurgery. Your dream came true, that's what you said. Then one day you gave it away to do what? Administration. And become this Chief who enforces rules at any given occasion. But that dignified smile you have on at work is not the one I remember from back then. Was it even worth it? Being a Chief?"

Harper did her best to conceal the pang of pain she felt in her chest as her niece spoke.

"Rory, time changes things...years of experience changes your perspective..."

As she stopped, unable to find other arguments, not ready to tell the truth, Aurora sighed.

"You know what's funny? I don't think I've ever told but when I decided to apply to med school, it wasn't only because of an aptitude test. It was a tough decision but I did it because...I wanted to be like you one day"

Harper met her gaze, visibly surprised and touched.

"Maybe not a neurosurgeon but a confident, badass female doctor just like you. You were so passionate about your work. When you talked about it, it was so inspiring, nothing like mom and dad speeches. You made it sound the best thing in the world, even if it was just an ordinary appendicectomy. And when I visited you at work...gosh, you were a force of nature! And your colleagues I talked to as I waited for you to end an operation were enthusiastic about you. So when at my college admission interview they asked me who was my inspiration I said your name"

"You...you never told me"

"No. But you know what? Seeing you now, I think I would change my answer"

This time Harper diverted her eyes under the blow of Aurora's delusion.

"I understand" she whispered.

Aurora grimaced, looking at her aunt who was now giving her her shoulders pretending to wash her mug. Noticing how her last few words hurt her, she spoke again, her tone gentler this time:

"I...I saw the pile of the newest surgery journals on your desk. Aunt, you miss it. You miss practice. You should go back to it: you're a...good doctor. You can still be a good doctor."

"It's not that simple, Rory. I cannot exactly quit like Ramsey did. That's not who I am, since you mentioned it. And even if I quit, I cannot walk into-"

"No, you're right. You're so stubborn when you want. I knew it was a lost cause trying to talk with you"

Aurora placed her mug on the counter too and stood.

"Just for your information, tomorrow I'm not gonna stop by your office at the end of my shift. I'll go straight home and find answers on my own"

Harper turned. Her face looked more exhausted now.

"Okay, as you wish"

"Just like that?" Aurora asked, taken by surprise.

"Yes, you don't need me to find out the solution to your cases. You never did."

"Then why you grilled me for hours?"

"Because you're so insecure, Rory. You keep second-guessing yourself and it backfires"

"Oh and here I thought the reason why you put all that pressure on me was that you were trying to live through me the doctor life you cannot live anymore since you become an administrator"

"What?"

"Yeah, you heard me. And I hate it as much as you hate being the Chief away from the O.R."

"This is what you think?" Harper asked, wincing.

"Honestly I cannot find another logical explanation but it ends now. This is my life and I want to live it on my own terms. I'm not you, aunt. And if you're so frustrated by how you miss practice, go back to it and don't take it over me"

Harper frowned, hugging herself.

"I wasn't trying to take it over you and I'm not...frustrated, as you said. I was just trying to mentor you. Pushing you to excel because I know you can excel, you have it in you. But I didn't mean to hurt you and make you feel like that. I'm sorry I did, truly sorry and I won't do it again" she sighed before recollecting herself. "But you’re right. It's your life and you get to live it on your own terms. Just know that it works for me too. And this is the life I choose now"

"But you're not happy" Aurora noted.

"I appreciate your concern but I'm good with it" Harper said, closing off again.

Aurora gave her a long look then frowned.

"It's a lost cause, right? This conversation is a lost cause, isn't it?"

"I'm afraid so" Harper confirmed, pressing her lips together.

The young Emery nodded and without looking back to her aunt, moved towards the door. She stopped right in front of it and sighed.

"I took the subway train with Valentine, after the E.R. emergency. That night she was the only person who treated me kindly. And you know what she said about the competition? That she doesn't care if she wins or not, cause that was never the point. She said that she wanted to believe you would make the right call. That she trusted you to choose the intern who would best benefit the hospital and the patients. If it wasn't her, it's okay, she said. Then she added: I share this with you because I know you think that way too. And she was right"

Aurora sighed.

"I don't want to interfere. I'm talking as Rory, not Dr. Emery junior when I say...I do really hope Dr. Valentine wins the fellowship. She's the best partner and the best intern, both on a personal and professional level. If she loses her license tomorrow, well then this competition is a total farçe and I'm not sure I would keep playing along. It would be such a loss for Edenbrook and medicine in general"

"Rory..."

"See you tomorrow, Harper" Aurora sighed before opening the door and disappearing out of view.

#open heart #aurora emery #harper emery #aurora emery & f!mc friendship #playchoices #choices fanfic

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spiderofthenight-blog · 6 years ago

Note

Can you please write a story where the reader is famous (a celebrity) and Peter is a huge fan of hers! And one day, she found her wandering around queens... the rest is up to you!

Before I get started @yandereaffections has a yandere!P.P x famous reader, so I’m sorry if this has any similarities, it was not my intention. Also I recommend you go check out their stuff, it’s all phenomenal

WARNING: there is some non-con stuff near the end so beware

So let’s say you’re an up and coming singer/songwriter and your career has been skyrocketing lately

You had the basic music artist backstory, found a passion for guitar and singing when you were small, started writing in middle school, started combining those two hobbies together soon after

For about four years you worked in your parents garage trying to get your career to lift off, and thankfully one day you did a gig at some big party and got noticed

By more than one person

While that night you did get noticed by some big hot shot company and sign up for a record label

You also got noticed by one Peter Benjamin Parker

And from the moment he heard your voice he fell in love

He didn’t get to speak to you that night but did manage to track you down on Instagram

And since then he followed your every move

He always knew where you were playing and what you were doing

Unfortunately for him all his attempts at ‘bumping into you’ in person were unsuccessful

He always seemed to miss you by a millisecond

And although it was frustrating, he kept his patience

You’d come to him when the time was right

So he stuck to commenting on every post you made on insta and tagging you in everything he put online

On one occasion you even replied to one of his comments on a post you made and he didn’t stop smiling for weeks

So let’s say it’s been about two years since he saw you perform at that party that kick-started your career and your finally going on a proper tour

Imagine Peter’s excitement when you announce the dates and you’re performing a concert not five blocks from where he lives!

So of course he bought front row tickets

When the night rolled around Peter was beside himself with nerves, he was going to see you up close and in the flesh

Possibly even talk to you if he got the chance

Peter shows up to the arena hours early, and once he’s seated he almost can’t contain his excitement

He’s overwhelmed with joy and love when you first step out on stage

Good god you’re even more beautiful in real life, the photos online are nothing compared to what he sees before him now

And of course he knew every single lyric, possibly better than you yourself

It feels like he blinked and the show was over and everyone was being asked to leave

He’d be lying if he said he didn’t cry at least once

As the herd of people is being ushered out the door he manages to sneak backstage and finds your dressing room unnoticed

You hear a knock on your dressing room door and yell to whoever is there that it’s open, that they can come in

You assumed it was probably your manager or someone similar so you got quite the fright when you saw someone you didn’t recognise walk through the door

If he was being honest with himself Peter didn’t actually think he’d get this far and any kind of speech he might’ve had prepared was lost on his tongue when he saw you, standing feet in front of him wearing a lot less clothing than he expected you to have on

He stared at you in awe as you grabbed a robe from the back of a chair and wrapped it around your perfect body

He can’t get over how gorgeous you are

‘Can I help you?’ you asked him when he didn’t say anything for a long while

‘oh , uh- hi, yeah I- I’m Peter, Peter Parker’ he managed to stutter out

‘How can I help you, Peter?’ you saying his name aloud seemed to snap him out of his nervous mindset and he suddenly found his confidence

And it showed, you could see him practically inflate, he puffed his chest out and squared his shoulders

He turned away for a brief moment and you heard the door lock before he turned back to you and smiling almost too kindly

And suddenly the buzz you had from ending a perfect performance turned into the adrenaline of how-do-I-get-out-of-this

‘Your music is phenomenal’ he spoke in a breathy voice, taking steps towards you

For each step he took towards you, you took one away from him

All the while you glanced around the room to find your phone to call for security, but his gaze found what you were looking for moments before you did and he snatched it from the tabletop before you even knew what he was doing

‘Please, sir, I’m going to have to ask you to leave. You’re not allowed to be in here’ you spoke to him calmly, even though you were starting to panic

He looked at you confused, ‘but you invited me in? I knocked on the door and you told me to come in’

Of all the things he could’ve said, you certainly weren’t expecting that

During the short confrontation you hadn’t noticed Peter had managed to back you into a corner

He strolled the rest of the way to you and grabbed you around the back, pulling you into a bone-crushing hug

As you were struggling to get out of his grasp you heard him sniff your hair deeply and felt him bury his nose behind your ear, and place one hand between your shoulder blades while keeping the other on your lower back to stop your squirming

‘You played exceptionally well tonight, y/n’ he complimented while relaxing into you, your body staying tense against his fully relaxed form

‘Please let me go’ you asked him, not prepared for this situation at all

He either didn’t hear you or chose to ignore you because his grip suddenly dropped from your lower back to dip under the back of your robe and smooth over the bumps of your ass

He then picked you up just under your butt so suddenly and with such strength that you had no choice but to wrap your legs around his waist and hold onto his shoulders

He carried you over to the desk that was covered in products, papers, and who knows what else

Peter cleared a spot to place you by shoving your stuff on the floor and as he set you down on the counter he ran a line of wet sucking kisses up your throat and ground his core straight onto yours

You finally managed to stabilise yourself enough to put your hands on his chest and shove the large man off of you

Peter, not expecting you to shove him, stumbled back so you took your chance and made a break for the door

You shook the handle before getting it unlocked and you ran down the corridor to find a member of security

Just as you were about to run into a room full of people, Peter caught up to you and grabbed you from behind, you wasted no hesitation on yelling for help and soon enough a pile of security men got Peter away from you

It took three men to hold him back

As another member of security led you away making sure you were okay you could hear peter calling out about his love for you,

about how he knew you were destined to be together

About how nothing, not even jail, could stop him from making you his

I hope you don’t mind that I changed it slightly:)

#yandere peter parker #yandere peter parker x reader #yandere #peter parker x reader

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i-choose-liam · 6 years ago

Text

April Come She Will - A TRR AU fanfic

Summary: What if Liam was a commoner, unburdened with propriety and a horde of duties towards an entire country? What if he was born with the freedom he so longed for, and could go for the woman he wanted without a care in the world? If he was free to pursue his passions and desires, what kind of a lover and man he would be? An Alternate Universe fic set in the USA, where Liam, a commoner, meets and falls for a writer, April.

A/N: I hadn’t envisioned this to be a story about friendship, but it’s turning out to be so. And I can’t say I mind. There will be romance, of course (come on, it’s me who’s writing this), and it will be a sort of slow burn in Liam and April’s case. God, I hate those. But writing this is fun! Let me know what you think of this chapter. Thanks!

Tag list: If I have forgotten to put anyone’s url here, please remind me. And if you want off the tag list, all you have to do is let me know. Thanks! @kennaxval @thatspicegirlssong @lizzybeth1986 @bowful @indescribablechoices @femmeshep @zaffrenotes @hopefulmoonobject

Book: The Royal Romance

Pairing: Liam x Original Female Character

Rating: T

Characters: Liam, Hana Lee, Maxwell Beaumont, Drake Walker, Original characters, and an adorable golden retriever named Sir Arthur.

Chapter 1: Belle of the Boulevard

Chapter 2: Friends

Chapter 3: Hey Tomorrow

Normally, Drake wouldn't have bothered making fancy breakfast for his two friends. But they had been let down after yet another apartment hunt. Since they were both sleeping the disappointment off, Drake supposed he could make something nice to cheer them up. He was in a pretty good mood... before Maxwell burst into the kitchen with his morning mofo energy. "Drake!" He sighed. "What?" "You're not going to believe what I'm about to tell you!" "Your pigeon buddy won't come to the window anymore?" Maxwell said, "I saw Buckbeak just a while ago. But that's not what I am talking about" Drake put away the broken eggshells, asking, "What are you talking about?" Maxwell said, sounding dystopian, "April is not on any social media" "So?" That appalled Maxwell. He exclaimed, "So it's weird and unnatural!" Drake said, "Hey. I'm not on any social media either" "Exactly my point!" He turned to give Maxwell a reproachful look, but the man was rambling. "I didn't even know her last name until yesterday. But then I picked up Liam's Kindle last night and I saw he was reading lesbian erotica. I was like, um... okay. Whatever rocks your boat. Then I saw the writer's name - April Costas! That's why Liam was reading erotica! So I did a little digging of my own. She's not on any social media sites. Doesn't that bother you?" Drake gently pushed him aside, reaching for powdered sugar. He said, "What bothers me is that you two spent your night snooping on a girl. I can understand Liam doing it, he likes her. But you are being you again" Maxwell grinned, "Sparkling and joyful?" "Nosy and annoying"

Liam came into the kitchen, greeting them both with a "good morning". He asked Drake, "Need any help with breakfast?" "No, I got it. You and the Daily Mail here can sit at the table" Maxwell received a sympathetic smile from Liam. He sat down next to him, not quite meeting Liam in the eye. "Why are you name-calling him this early in the morning?", Liam asked Drake. He replied, "Why don't you ask him?" "Maxwell?" Maxwell fidgeted with his fingers, replying, "Well, I... I googled April last night" "Okay?" "She's not on any social media" "I didn't know that" Maxwell asked, "You're not mad at me?" Liam smiled, "Why would I be mad? You can google whoever you want" Drake set two plates before them on the table, saying, "If you two ladies are done having a heart to heart, eat up" The plates were piled with golden French toast, with powdered sugar sprinkled on top. Maxwell's face lit up at the sight of the food. "Yum!", he said. Liam smiled at that reaction and turned to Drake, "Thank you, Drake. This is rather nice of you" "Don't get used to it", Drake smiled. Liam cut a piece of toast for himself. His fork and knife were met with some resistance. 'Strange' He had to apply a little pressure to slice the supposedly soft and fluffy toast. Before putting the morsel in his mouth, he glanced at Maxwell. Maxwell gave him a pained look, his jaws moving around the food in his mouth, like giant cogs on an industrial machine. Liam threw caution to the wind and put the piece of French toast in his own mouth. It was... chewy and bland. But he didn't complain. Next to him, Maxwell whispered, "My teeth are starting to hurt" "Sshh" Sadly for them, they hadn't noticed Drake glaring at them from next to the kitchen stove. He scowled. "What? My food isn't fancy enough for you two freeloaders?" They immediately disagreed. Liam said, "No, no. It's lovely" Maxwell nodded, "Yeah. Really... edible" Drake watched him carefully for a moment before turning back to the stove again. Maxwell whispered, "Where's Sir Arthur? He must be hungry" Liam whispered back, "You're not feeding my dog this. Eat" Drake returned to the table, with French toast piled high in two more plates. Maxwell and Liam gave him their best grateful smiles.

***

April dabbed at her mouth with a paper napkin, having just made clean work of her empanadas. Her agent sat across from her in the red chair, matching the theme of the deli. She ignored their piercingly observant gaze and looked around for a waiter. 'Maybe I can get those little pita wraps' Joel said, their voice crisp as cold water, "You're stress-eating again" April made a face. "I'm not!", she said. "Come on, April. Is it really going to be that difficult for you to maintain a social media presence? All writers have to do that" "I know they do. I am just not..." They said, "Comfortable putting my life details out there for everyone to see - heard that before. I'm not asking you to post nudes. Just... maybe one tweet, one pic, one status update every other day" "But Joel..." "Listen", they leaned forward, the cuffs of their coat sleeves revealing slender wrists, "When I take Porcelain Palace to my contacts in Hollywood, they are going to be like, "April who?". You are virtually non-existent. And your silly website where you review people's fanfiction doesn't count" April leaned back in her chair, folding her arms over her chest. Joel went on, despite the look on her face. "This business is as much about image as it is about storytelling. I told you that when you hired me" They gave April a nurturing smile. "I just don't want your work to be sidetracked in Hollywood. Porcelain Palace deserves to be made into a movie. We need that movie in our time. And I am not going to stop until that happens. Are you?" She mumbled, "No" "We agree then. You will sign up on the sites I just emailed you, and start posting" "Urgh" "Don't be dramatic. And stop stuffing your face. You're going to look like a rikishi soon if you keep at this" "I eat what I want. And I already got my 10k footsteps in today, all right?" "Good", Joel placed some dollar bills on the table and got up, buttoning their coat jacket, "I'll see you in exactly one week. Call me if you need me" "Yeah. Thanks" "Anything for my favourite person" Joel leaned over and planted a kiss on the top of her head. April smirked. "Want to tell Shirin you called me that?" They gave her a stunning grin, walking away, "That's the beauty of being in a mature poly relationship. I don't have to worry about jealousy. Good day, April" She raised her hand in half a wave, sighing, and dropping it the moment Joel was out of sight.

Her social skills had been a big joke since kindergarten. Her mistrust of people in general, coupled with a strong sense of privacy, kept her shielded from the allure of "social sharing". But Joel was trying to create an image for her, and they knew what they were talking about. Problem was - it made April feel hungry again. Her phone buzzed. She saw who the text was from and smiled in surprise. 'Hello, April! Not sure if you remember, but you saved me from a horrendous date at the Whiskey Duck? It's Hana' April quickly texted back. 'Of course I remember. It's great to hear from you! How have you been?' She sat in the small deli during lunch hours, typing away letters and emojis to a welcome distraction.

***

Drake was losing to Maxwell in that stupid kart game when his phone buzzed. He ignored it, but it only buzzed again. "Pause", he said. Maxwell grinned, "Nuh-uh. I'm winning" Drake thought he had no option but to end the race. He swore as Maxwell beat him by a hair's breadth. Ignoring his friend's victory break-dance, he checked his phone. 'What the fuck?' He was part of some chat called Whiskey Ducks. The first text had been from a number he didn't know. 'Hi guys, it's Hana! I just thought this would be a fun and convenient way for me to talk to you all at once :D' The next text was from another unfamiliar number. 'Hello. April here. :)' Drake was still making sense of the thing when a third text was sent in the group. This number he did recognise. 'Yoohoo! Its so great to be able to talk to my friends together! Viva la technology! ^_^' The text was followed by a gif of the Minions hugging and saying "Buddies". "Maxwell!" He nearly jumped on hearing his name. "What?" Drake frowned, showing him the phone screen, "What the hell am I doing in a group text?" Maxwell defended himself, "Hana wanted me to add you and Liam" "IN A GROUP TEX..." The door to Drake's apartment swung open and Liam came in. He closed the door behind him, giving the guys a nod. "Hey", he said. Maxwell quickly turned his attention to Liam. He asked, "How did it go?" "It is affordable, if you don't mind living with rats" "Wait. Cute rats or the creepy ones?" Liam sighed, "Maxwell" He deposited himself on the couch between Drake and Maxwell, much to the latter's relief. Drake was complaining within seconds of Liam's butt hitting the couch. "Look what your precious buddy did. He added us to a group text" "Keep your calm..." "What do you mean 'keep your calm'? He didn't even ask us!" Liam pinched the bridge of his nose, muttering, "I wasn't talking to you" Maxwell took that as encouragement to speak up. He said, "There's no harm done. Hana just wanted to invite all of us to Coney Island" Drake said, "I don't want to go to stupid Coney Island. And how did you get Hana's number anyway?" Maxwell revealed with a happy smile, "I added her on pinterest. She has the coolest boards. Especially her food board. Oh my god"

Liam pulled out his phone from the pocket of his jeans, rubbing his sore temples. The apartment hunt and the current state of his job were enough to fill his head with worry. Drake and Maxwell's constant bickering was just the cherry on top of a steaming pile of crap. "You always do this!" "And you always give me hell about it!" They fought, one on each side of Liam. He could feel a headache coming on. But his entire facial expression transformed on seeing who else was in the group chat. Hana said, 'I wanted to invite you all to Coney Island with me. As a thank you for that evening. It will be super fun, I promise!' April replied, 'You don't have to thank us' 'But I really want to! And it's not like I have any friends in New York to enjoy Coney Island with :3 ' April is typing... 'When do you want to go?' Liam smiled. April was such a knight in shining armour. 'How about tomorrow?', Hana suggested. Maxwell is typing... 'Tomorrow's good for meee! I have nothing to do tomorrow' Liam was surprised to see - Drake is typing... 'Like everyday' Maxwell replied with a sad puppy face gif. April is typing... 'Is it okay if I bring my friend Jenna along?' 'Sure! The more, the merrier', Hana said. Reading Jenna's name, both Liam and Maxwell turned to look at Drake. He tried to seem nonchalant, "What?" Liam shrugged. "Just wondering if you can make it tomorrow. You have a thriving business to attend to, you know. Unlike me and Maxwell, who have nothing to do everyday" "Yeah!", Maxwell grinned. Drake glared at Liam, saying, "Why do you always take his side? I'm your best friend!" Maxwell objected to that. "Hey! We are all best friends!" Their phones buzzed again. Hana asked, 'So guys? Does tomorrow afternoon work for you?' Maxwell replied with an enthusiastic yes. Drake replied, 'Ok' Liam had his eyes on April's name in the group text as he typed, 'Can't wait'

#king liam #hana lee #maxwell beaumont #drake walker #trr fanfiction #trr #the royal romance #trr au #liam x oc #liam x april #fanfiction #playchoices

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female-overlord-3 · 7 years ago

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A Simple Text

Me being productive and super inspired wrote another Love, Simon/ SVTHSA fic. Earlier meeting in the books guys so book spoilers. AO3 tags pretty much explains why I wrote it. Thank you so much to @imawriteriwrite and @bluemoon-golden for both looking it over and being my beta’s! Love you both. This is fluff and might lead to more (read: yes there’s gonna be more if this writing streak continues)!

*updated 4/1/18 at 4am cause I realized I put the pre-beta’d version. Oops!

An early meeting AU because someone just wanted their best friend happy. What if Simon saw Bram leaving the Elliott Smith shirt?

They stare at each other frozen. Simon doesn’t know what to think. Bram doesn’t know what to think. It’s like the universe stopped just for this moment to signify how important it is, how life changing this one simple moment is.

It was just a simple text to grab a textbook.

Si man please grab my Math textbook? I left it in Abb’s locker like an absolute moron and it had all my notes! Please please please Simon I will love you forever! -Nick

So here he is standing just a few feet from his and Abby’s locker because Nick asked since Simon was nearby and needed some air. Bram is standing in front of his locker with a plastic bag looped through the handle of a locker staring wide eyed at him, his hands frozen writing something on a piece of paper against the locker. Simon’s locker.

At first Simon doesn’t know what Bram is doing until he sees something white poking out from the bag. ‘No this isn’t-’ His thoughts are racing and he takes a step forward shattering the moment. Like the star athlete he is, Bram bolts the opposite way, pen, paper and bag forgotten as he disappears down the hall. Completely at a loss Simon just stands there in utter shock until his eyes turn back to the bag on his locker. Slowly, he makes his way over and hesitates before removing the bag and peaking inside.

It’s a jersey cotton t-shirt with a logo from Elliott Smith’s Figure Eight. He looks down at it in complete awe then his eyes the paper and pen laying on the floor. It’s blue green construction paper and written on it is a finished note.

I’m assuming Elliott understood that you would have made it to his shows if you could have.

Simon stands frozen again as his brain tries to stop imploding. It’s Blue, Bram is Blue. Cute, adorable, quiet, shy Bram is Blue. Some things are starting to click like as he stares at the perfectly straight print on the note, those times Bram blushed at him, the comment about how being straight or white as the default is annoying, Bram who had his birthday after MLK day which means 118 is January 18th his birthday and Green from Greenfeld. God he’s an absolute oblivious idiot!

Putting the note in the bag Simon turns around to walk back to his car on shaky legs. Somehow he drives himself home without crashing into something, makes it upstairs to his room without trouble, then falls face first on his bed still in disbelief. Shouldn’t he be doing something? Why is he just laying here, doing nothing while the guy he’s in love with is out there and so close?

No Blue needs space. He needs time and he must be as shocked or at least freaked out about being found out and- oh god there was a reason he was there so late with the school pretty much dead. He didn’t want to be seen, for people to know he left the shirt. Pulling the shirt out and tossing the bag behind him to get rid of later, Simon holds it in front of him just just stare at it again. It’s just a t-shirt, some fabric with a bands logo and it shouldn’t mean so much but holy shit it does. This shirt means the world to him after the decreasing messages from Blue which was horrible, and especially after the last one Simon sent getting no reply.

Groaning he buries his face into it hoping maybe he can smother himself with it in frustration. No he can’t do that now with such a special shirt and a very special someone out there. Simon takes a deep breath then lifts his face from the shirt only to feel something stiff when his hands move the shirt. Spreading out so the shirt lays flat, he lifts the neck to see inside and there’s another piece of Blue Green construction paper. It’s a note with the same perfect print.

P.S. I love the way you smile like you don’t realize you’re doing it. I love your perpetual bed head. I love the way you hold eye contact a moment longer than you need to. And I love your moon-grey eyes. So if you think i’m not attracted to you, Simon, you’re crazy.

Below the script is a phone number and Simon doesn’t know whether to text or call the number right now or just wait because he is really lightheaded and feels like he’s going to pass out. His heart is beating like crazy, whole body buzzing with warm tingles while a smile so big breaks across his face, cheeks aching because he knows who Blue is and Blue gave him his number.

They need to talk, to figure everything out and- and he needs to tell this stupidly cute and frustrating guy how much he loves him too.

Now the big question: how?

Bram runs, he runs and runs until he’s back on the field where Garrett is waiting for him to take him home. Garrett is smiling at him until he sees the panicked look on his face, concern replacing the excitement. “Bram you okay man?”

Panting he just stares at his best friend and for some reason the question makes him laugh. God is he okay, ya if what just happened is as okay as their new president. No he’s actually horrible and terrified because the person he’s in love with now knows who he is, that he’s Blue and everything is ruined because he’s going to lose this amazing guy. His laugh turns a bit hysterical for a second before he has to catch his breath again, his legs turned to jelly so he stumbles and lets himself drop on to the grass so he can just lay in his back and hope for lightning to hit him or the ground to swallow him up.

Once his breathing is something close to normal he lets out a long sigh and closes his eyes. “I- I’m not sure. I don’t think so.”

He hears Garrett’s feet walking over and sit next to him, just being there as silent support. “I hope you get to okay.” He finally commented as they sit there for a bit longer before silently standing and walk to Garrett's car to head home.

Bram thanks Garrett for the ride and it’s only once he’s in his room lying on his bed, that he starts actually thinking about what happened.

Now Simon knows who he is. Now Simon has is number. Oh god now Simon has his number and the notes he left!

Bram wants to just die already or maybe he can stay in his room forever. He doesn’t know how to feel about this. He’s both horrified this happened but also a little excited. Of course the horror overrides the excitement but now Simon knows who he is, that he’s Blue.

What should he do now? Bram asks himself. Should he email him? Wait to see if Simon uses his number? Wait til tomorrow? He doesn’t want to because honestly right now all of that seems terrifying and now he’s starting to get nauseous.

Taking a bit to think about it, waiting til tomorrow sounds the best for right now. If he loses Simon then he loses Simon. If he gets some form of reply about the shirt or who he is… he’ll cross that bridge if it ever happens.

He gladly let’s sleep take him so today can be behind him.

Nick, Leah, and Abby are all settled in the basement at Simon’s after Simon begged and pleaded with his friends to help him so he spilled his verbal guts to them about Blue and eventually Martin. Nick finally caved and told Simon that he actually didn’t leave his textbook. He didn’t say who asked him to do it but that all he had to do was get Simon back on campus and to his locker as soon as possible. For some reason that just makes Simon feel worse.

It takes a literal stranger to make him see who Blue was. Simon was so stuck on all the wrong clues and his stupid crush on Cal to see what was literally right in front of him.

Sinking to the floor Simon just lets out a loud sigh before he looks at Nick with morose eyes. “Tell whoever that is thank you and that i’m a colossal idiot.” Nick just grins at him as he nudges his best friend with his foot. “Ya I will but first we gotta get your guy back!”

Leah and Abby grab his arms to pull him up and bring everyone into a group hug.

Once the questions and teasing was done, the crazy hopeful plan they all come up with is ready to be set into motion.

If everything goes well, Simon reluctantly agrees to go to this restaurant place Abby insists they should celebrate at but he remains firm on Bram only coming if he's comfortable doing so. Leah seems hesitant on joining but she concedes when Simon asks her to be his moral support. If she doesn’t like the place then they’ll take her home.

God Simon hopes this works.

Bram drives to school in an almost numb mood. He goes through the motions of parking and heading to his locker but the realization of Nick standing at it catches his attention. “Hey Nick.” He greets him a bit confused. Nick isn’t usually this early and he’s almost always with Abby, Leah or Simon in the morning.

“Morning Bram!” Nick beams at him before seeming to remember why he’s there. His smile turns a little sheepish but doesn’t fall as he brings out something from behind him.

It’s a piece of paper and a large case of Halloween themed Oreo's.

Bram blinks at it before his tired brain makes everything click, his eyes go a little wide as they flick back and forth from Nick to the Oreo's.

“Um ya so ‘you know who’ is really really sorry but also a complete idiot. He- I mean they also say that he hopes this is romantic as hell.”

Bram takes the offered items, or well he supposes they’re gifts now, a little shocked at what’s happening before his eyes go down to the paper in Simon’s script decorated with soccer balls and his shirt number, to read it. It’s a letter.

Dear Blue,

I am a complete ass and i’m so sorry for being such an idiot. This is a very hopeful apology, the first out of three. I should have put all the damn clues together way sooner but of course i’m still dense and can’t seem to apply actual logic to these types of things. I guess you make me illogical. Leah and Abby punched me when Nick told me with a very disappointed face your full name was Abraham. I also realize that i’m even more of a moron and what 118 means.

I still meant what I said about the last email. You’ve become my best friend and I still want to keep you but this goes however you want it to go. We can go back to emailing and not knowing each other’s real identities or by some miracle you can accept these poor attempts at a romantic gesture. Abby has my next apology.

-Love, Simon.

Bram can’t seem to breathe as he rereads the paper again then one more time to make sure he’s not actually dreaming. His eyes cautiously peer up to Nick who’s still smiling as he leans with his back against the lockers.

Nick just shrugs. “I think I know why Garrett sent me a text now.” He gives Bram a pat on the shoulder before wishing him good luck and heading to his own locker.

Left standing there Bram kind of wants to sink to the floor into a puddle because of course Simon would want to do something like this. Taking a deep breath he tries to calm all these whirling emotions and head to first period, the paper folded and tucked into his bag while he puts the Oreo's in his locker. Guess he just has to wait for Abby now.

He doesn’t catch her until the passing period between second and third. Her face lights up when she spots him and with determination she makes her way to him.

“Hey Bram! We’re heading out to eat after rehearsal. Join us if you want to, I was told not to pressure you so i’m going to just give you these and be on my way. Garrett is tagging along so just find him. Again a serious idiot who is willing to grovel. Leah will be at lunch.” She gives his shoulders a gentle squeeze when Bram’s eyes widen in fear. “Hey simple and quiet. No one is going to know unless you want them to okay.” She reassures him and it actually helps. “Thanks.” She hands him a CD case and another paper, this one decorated with music notes, lyrics to some songs, and the Elliott Smiths shirt. He takes them quickly and gives Abby a small smile before dashing to his next class.

Settled in his seat Bram finally looks over the CD case to see a list of songs, all their shared favorites, and the letter which he’s extremely tempted to read so he asks to go to the bathroom to do so away from prying eyes.

Dear Blue,

Music has always helped me calm down and find some semblance of peace. I added all the songs we’ve mentioned and a couple of new ones I think you might like. If you haven’t noticed all the awesome art is thanks to Leah and before you freak out about them knowing, they swore on WAHO that they’d never say a word. I think they’re all more protective of you than me right now which is a given since I did some very shitty things to warrant it. It’s because of them I was able to think of this very sappy and romantic apology. They’ll have your back just like they have mine. I’m honestly really nervous right now and hope you somehow forgive me.

I want you to know I did hope it was you because I call you cute Bram in my head but of course Simon Logic made me think you were straight. God i’m so dense and clueless for someone who’s supposed to be in Hufflepuff. I won’t see you at Lunch because of rehearsals but that’s where apology number 3 is with Leah. I hope it makes you laugh but it might make you blush. I didn’t tell you you’re cute when you blush did I? Well you are and again i’m sorry. I hope I see you after rehearsal.

-Love, Simon.

Bram is a mess of emotions during fourth and he starts to get a bit nauseous the sooner the clock ticks to lunch time. He doesn’t know what he’s feeling right now but he’s does know he’s forgiven Simon since apology number one. The second and whatever the following apology is just cements how much he really does love this stupid boy and his determination to express how truly sorry he is.

He returns to class and tries to stop the smile off his face, folding then placing the letter with the other before trying and slowly failing to pay attention in class. When the bell rings to signal it’s lunch Bram’s hands are shaking and he can feel his heart go a mile a minute. It’s almost like he’s on autopilot as he makes his way to the cafeteria but stops just at the doors that lead inside. His eyes see Leah and Garrett at their table with Morgan and Anna who are off to the side. The former two are chatting away as they watch something on a phone while Garrett and Leah are talking about something huddled together. He can spy an orange packet and another letter which is the only thing that propels him to start walking towards the table.

He hovers a bit before moving to sit next to Garrett. He’s greeted with an arm slung around his shoulder and a small smile from Leah. “Garrett’s lucky that I didn’t punch him for what he did.” The comment makes Garrett freeze as he turns to give his best friend his version of puppy dog eyes. “I didn’t do anything besides send a random text man. I just- I just want you to be happy Bram.” He confessed and who could stay mad at that? He does punch Garrett’s arm lightly before turning his attention back to Leah.

For some reason he’s back to being shy again, the words coming out soft and hesitant.

“So you… umm. You have something for me?” The words are all mumbled together but she seems to hear him clearly as she passes him a packet of Reese's that has a folded note on it and the last letter. This one is Harry Potter themed with lightning bolts, the houses, a small drawing of the castle, owls, and a snitch. “You’re an amazing artist Leah.” The comment makes Leah blush as she gives him another quick smile before digging into her lunch. Garrett and her respectfully scoot down the bench to give him some small form of privacy. Bram really appreciates it.

As much as he wants to read the letter, the small note on the Reese’s is what he reads first.

It does make him blush and laugh, a short chuckle he tries to cover with his hand but both Leah and Garrett snap their head to look at him in awe. They’re both burning with curiosity but can’t get over the shock of hearing him laugh.

Leah’s voice has a touch of wonder when she says, “I think that’s the first time i’ve ever heard you laugh.” Garrett just stares at him with a shocked smile. “Same” His voice is as almost a whisper like he doesn’t realize he said it.

The whole thing makes Bram blush harder as covers his face with one hand and pushes the Reese’s with the note open towards them.

It reads: Oreo’s are still better than sex but like always you’re the exception. Here are your sub-par Reese’s.

Bram quickly leaves them with his gifts in hand as they start laughing, the phrase ‘what a dork’ and ‘omg’ the last thing he hears before he’s out of the cafeteria and walking to his car. He wants total and complete privacy when he reads the last letter so what better place than his car.

Dear Blue,

So i’m now freaking out and still nervous. I think this is what you must have felt like when you were sure i’d actually be intelligent and start figuring out all the clues you left. This is horrible. I think i’m actually getting nauseous (yes i’m using that word now) but i’m still also trying to stay hopeful that you don’t just trash all of these letters or not show up after.

I’ll be honest and say i’d be really sad but if that was what you wanted then i’d just have to suck it up and take the hit. I hope you like the Reese’s and the note. It took me almost 8 times to write the word sex, hell it took me a good 5 minutes to write it here. I sorta wish I didn’t have rehearsal so I could be there to see if you did blush or laugh. I think I might die if I hear your actual laugh though but i’m pretty sure it would be worth it. I’m getting a little tired of saying that i’m sorry because I feel like it’s kind of being overused so here’s another crack at trying to be romantic. Je suis désolé mon cher Bleu. Je t'en supplie, pardonne-moi.

-Love, Simon.

Nothing. Bram’s brain crashed and he’s drawing up a blank, just a blank nothing. The only thing stopping him from going to find Simon right now is class and that Simon is rehearsing. Also the still lingering fear of coming out to people he doesn’t actually know aka fellow students. Garrett was fine. His parents were fine. Leah, Nick, and Abby are fine too but it’s still so new and frightening.

Bram also selfishly wants to keep the emails and what’s going on with Simon mainly between them, keep this private intimate thing they have just for a little bit longer. He can make himself wait till the end of school.

Simon cannot make it to the end of rehearsals. He’s literally dying and the fond but annoyed look Abby keeps shooting him doesn’t help. It’s not his fault he keeps zoning out okay, he’s trying his best with everything that’s going on right now.

Finally they get the dismissal from Ms. Albright to go and it takes everything in Simon to not just run out and find Leah or Nick or be brave and go to Bram first. Abby hooks their arms together and it helps ground him just enough to calm down and change. She also makes sure he keeps the make-up on this time.

Once they’ve changed out of costume and start making their way to the parking lot, all his nerves and fears start coming back the closer they get. Simon keeps switching back from keeping his eyes on the ground and searching the crowd of people.

He tries not to be devastated when he only sees Nick and Leah at his car. Abby squeezes his hand in apology.

Nick and Leah seem to notice them and Nick all but sprints towards them as he tackles them in a hug. Leah catches up and sees the faces both Abby and him are making. She groans and nudges Nick. “Don’t you have something for him?” “Oh right!” He digs into his pocket to pull out a folded piece of blue paper and pushes it into Simon’s hand. “He would be here but well- just read the note man i’m sure he’ll explain.”

Unfolding the paper Simon reads the same perfect script and just seeing it lets him breathe again.

Dear Jacques,

Reese’s are not sub-par. I have no idea how I’m going to actually talk to you in person, it was just so much easier by email and even now writing it down. I need to talk to my mom first about going out but I know she’ll let me since I would be Garrett's ride. I also might need just a little bit more time before I actually see you, but I do want to see you again. The only thing stopping me from doing so at Lunch was that you were rehearsing and i’m honestly not sure what I would have done or said. I also hoped that you were Jacques.

As for all the apologies, I forgave you pretty much at the start of the first letter. The two that followed just cemented it and made me miss you even more. I’ll see you soon.

-Love, Bram.

P.S. No I don’t want things to go back to the way they were. I think i’m ready for a little bit of change.

P.P.S. Is it bad I do still want to keep you to myself via our emails? I don’t want to hide if this, us, becomes a thing but I still want to keep this private intimate thing we have. Does this make sense?

Simon covers his face with the note and he feels like it might melt off.

Bram wants to see him. Bram forgave him. His plan wasn’t a total fail and Bram doesn’t hate him. They’re going to see each other!

“Oh my god I need to change!” is the first thing that comes out of his mouth as he leaves his friends to jog to his car. He drops his keys twice and almost hits the car next to him when he opens the door.

A hand grabs his arm and steers him to the passenger side. “I’ll drive Si, you just sit and- i don’t know breathe? Maybe put that away for safekeeping.” Abby taps the blue paper that’s currently crushed against Simon’s chest and he quickly lays it across the dashboard to smooth it out. “I- yes. Smart. I just- help me?” Everyone kindly laughs at the strange voice he’s using and easily pile in so they can head to the Spier's residence. Simon needs to pick up a shirt.

It’s a gay bar/restaurant and now Simon wants to die for a whole new different reason.

“Abby really?” He bemoans as they head inside and if Bram doesn’t join them he would totally understand.

She just smirks at him and pushes him through the door. “Why not? We should celebrate for finishing rehearsal and you not being an idiot. Also just think,” she tilts her head so only he can hear “i’m sure you want to hold hands and sit next to each other.” Simon’s face is now permanently red. For life. Why are they friends.

“Maybe.” He mumbles a little excited at the possibility of it but he’s still concerned for Bram. He’s not sure how he’ll feel about all of this. “I just- i’m worried this might be too much for him.”

“I think he’ll be fine.” A soft voice answers him.

Simon spins around so fast he crashes into Nick and then almost stumbles back into Abby. Leah just sighs and rests a hand on his shoulder to steady him. “We’re being shown to our table now guys.”

Simon stands with his hands covering his face and all Bram can think about is how adorable he is right now. The others follow the hostess while he and Simon hang back near the waiting area.

Bram has no idea how but he crosses the few steps between them and stands right next to him, close enough that their shoulders brush together. A small gasp escapes from Simon and now Bram is the one blushing.

“Hi.” Simon squeaks out and gathers as much courage as he can to lift his head and look at Bram. Somehow it’s harder for him look away now.

A small smile greets him and after all this time Bram can finally stare into those moon-grey eyes. “Hi.” he answers and presses their arms together. “We should- um I think-” Simon sends him a smile, understanding what Bram’s trying to say. “Join the others? Ya.” He nudges their shoulders and takes a step before pausing and ducking his head. “I’m really glad you came Bram.” He takes a shaky breath before adding, “And that it’s you.”

Bram didn’t realize how much hearing Simon say his name all hopeful and softly would affect him. He thinks he could listen to only that for the rest of his life. “I’m glad it’s you too Simon.”

Their hands brush as they walk to join the others, grinning so wide it hurts. Of course their friends make sure to save them a spot so they sit together.

Even though this place is supposed to be a safe place for them, they keep their hands under the table. Both feeling brave they sit pressed together and slowly link their pinkies together.

Garrett ordered for Bram and Leah ordered for Simon so now they just wait for their food arrives.

Of course out of their entire group Abby and Garrett are bouncing in their seats trying their best to let their mutual friends be.

Simon and Bram share a look then shrug.

“Out with it before you both explode.”

Both Abby and Garrett take in a long breath of air before firing off questions one after the other.

“How long has this been going on!”

“Did Spier grovel enough?”

“Simon how can you call yourself a Hufflepuff after this?”

“What did you think about the plan Bram?”

“We have your backs okay, you know that right?”

“Spier I will murder you if you hurt my best friend.”

“Ditto Si, sorry but I'm still annoyed at you.”

“True but we’re all going to make Addison’s ass grass right?”

Leah, Nick, and Abby agreed and then the conversation turned to how they’d make Martin pay for what he did.

Simon gets a little weird about that because he still doesn’t know if he wants to deal with that situation. He closes in on himself just a little but when he says, “Hey it’s- i’m fine about the Martin thing okay. I just don’t want to deal with it anymore so can we just leave it?” Bram looks around to everyone who’s frowning at Simon and then it clicks for him. He didn’t realize anything could make him that angry ever. Bram turns to Simon and gives him a firm questioning look that Simon answers with a meek nod.

“If I see him I might punch him.” Bram says it with such certainty because it’s an actual fact.

Leah flicks a tiny paper ball at Simon. “I call dibs after you.” Simon slowly lifts his head to look at Leah, their eyes having a silent conversation before she grins. “You may have fucked up Si and we’re all still a little mad about it, but what Martin did was cruel and it shouldn’t have happened.” She kicks her feet against his under the table before smirking. “Now I want to know what that Reese’s note was about.”

Bram laughs at the suggested look Garrett gives them and Simon buries his face into his shoulder.

This time it’s Abby and Nick who stare at Bram because again they’ve never heard him laugh before and Nick’s on a team with him.

“It’s just easier to be brave when you don’t know who the other person is.” Bram admits. Now his and Simon’s hands are laced together, he gives it a light squeeze and gets one back.

Simon lets out a rather loud sigh that’s met by everyone awwing at him. He’s never been more thankful for a waiter to arrive with food.

It’s maybe a little bit after that Simon realizes he still has his face pressed into Bram’s shoulder. He moves to pull away but Bram’s hand tightens in his, their eyes meet and they both seem to understand what the other’s trying to say. They’ve slipped so easily into this, being near each other and face to face, the fear and anxiety of how they’d make this work all gone.

It’s the best meal either of them have ever had.

It’s after they’ve paid their bill and are hanging out near their cars, that Abby and Garrett realize their questions were never answered.

Simon and Bram share a fond look as they think about how all of this started.

“You guys remember that anonymous post?”

“Omg it was Bram!” Leah gushed.

Bram gives them all a sheepish smile. “One of the most terrifying actions of my life. I’m glad I did it.” They’re in public but that’s not stopping them from standing just a little too close. “I’m glad I emailed you.”

“I’m glad I sent Nick that text!” Garrett winks at them.

“Oh great. Our own personal cupid.” Simon’s drawls. Bram and him give Garrett a flat look.

He holds his hands up in surrender but keeps smiling. “I felt bad at first but I no longer regret it okay. You guys are freaking glowing.”

“Did you like all the sappy gifts?”Abby asks. Her arm is hooked through both Leah and Nicks, who also want to know.

Bram shrugs. “They were alright.” His voice is monotone and Simon gives him a blinding grin as everyone else groans at them. Bram can’t stop the smile that spreads across his face as he looks to Simon. “Well more than alright. Actually really freaking perfect. Of course you’d go all out.”

Simon’s voice goes soft as he just stares at Bram. “I had to.”

“Damn that was sweet.” Abby whispers, breaking their small moment.

They slowly settle into silence and enjoy this bonding moment where they’re all just highschool kids hanging out enjoying life.

A pensive look crosses Nicks face but he looks hesitant to share what's on his mind.

Simon has a feeling he knows so he gives him a small smile. “So… what are you guys going to do now?” Abby and Garrett frown at him but Nick’s dejected face makes them sigh in understanding.

Bram thought he’d be more worried about that question, the big ‘what now’ but he’s not, or well he is but now it seems a little easier to handle. He knows there’s going to be some things that are unavoidable, that they’ll face some hate but he has so much more support now and he does feel a lot better with not having to keep such a big secret anymore.

Simon has already had to deal with some of the backlash of coming out but he can’t be mad because it’s been pretty tame so far and there’ll always be people who just won’t understand or accept it. He’s out now and it’s like he can breathe so much better . His only worry is for Bram and what he’ll want to do but there’s that tiny part of him that hopes they can be together, go on dates and possibly be boyfriends.

“We’ll figure it out, talk about it.” Bram voices. “I already told Simon that I think i’m ready for a little change and I think I got pretty lucky to end up with my long time crush.”

Simon’s eyes go wide at that new bit of information. “I’m the cute guy that you can’t talk to!” He whispers and hides his face in his hands. “Why am I an oblivious idiot?”

“Well at least you’re going to be my oblivious idiot.” Bram blushes when he says it but he keeps his eyes on said adorable oblivious idiot. He’s just incredibly happy right now.

Simon is just- he’s so happy he doesn’t know what to do with himself. “I don’t deserve you.” he bemoans. “Oh I- I never thanked you for the shirt.”

Leah snorts. “The one you kept under your pillow? Also the one you’re wearing?”

“Betrayed!”

“Shut up you’re just sappy.”

Their laughter is interrupted by a phone chiming, of course, everyone checking theirs to see who’s it is. It’s Abby’s, a text from her mom wanting to know when she’ll be home.

“Well guess it’s getting pretty late guys. Ready to head home?”

Everyone reluctantly agrees because there is a thing called school they have tomorrow and all of them are still underage to stay out past curfew.

Simon and Bram linger a bit, not wanting to leave each other just yet.

“I’ll uh text you when I get home? I- I have your number now so we can do that and only if you want to-” Bram chews on his lip as he looks around before bringing Simon into a quick hug. “I’ll be waiting.”

They part and get into their respective cars, grinning like fools the whole drive home.

#love simon #My writing #fic #spierfeld #Simon vs The Homo Sapiens Agenda spoilers #spoilers #Simon Spier #Bram Greenfeld #svthsa #love you shay #love you maud

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boss-the-goofball · 7 years ago

Text

Poor Unfortunate Souls

So I decided to write a thing for a Dadvid/Gwenvid “Little Mermaid AU” because I got the song “Poor Unfortunate Souls” stuck in my head after reading it from good ol’ @directium ‘s playlist for her “Daniel’s Descension AU” (the list of songs Gwen gives Daniel to listen to)

Please please please please PLEASE do NOT tag this as Max///vid. Thank you.

In any case, hope you enjoy this little self-indulgent piece. (Also whoever actually made this AU please come forward so I can tag you properly and give proper credit!)

“Listen, David. Are you sure about this?” Gwen asked, her dark eyes holding concern as she looked around. It felt like something was watching the both of them, waiting patiently with a hungry gaze. The sound of something slithering caused her to shiver, though she mostly blamed it on the cold temperature of the cave they were swimming in.

“I mean, what if he’s just really sick? Neptune knows what kind of ailments humans could catch. If it’s anything like what Harrison caught last month then he could be down for weeks,” She continued, setting a gentle hand on David’s shoulder.

David shook his head. “I’m sorry, but he hasn’t been at the docks recently and I’m really worried. What if the people who abandoned him decided to come back and take him to a new place just to abandon him again? Or what if he got kidnapped by even worse people? Or even-” he rambled, bringing his webbed hands through his hair as he started tugging at it.

Seeing her mate in distress, Gwen pursed her lips with pure concern. Normally David is really happy and a literal ball of sunshine, but now. Now he is a ball of stress, all over a human child whom they met only months ago.

She set both of her hands on David’s shoulders, letting out a soft clicking noise as she circled her thumb over the tattoo on his shoulder blade; black and simple that formed the symbol of the royal family, a symbol their human friend called a pine tree, whatever that is.

“Listen, David. We have enough magic accumulated to turn him into one of us, I am sure the royal family will grant you temporary legs so you can go see how things are going. There is no need to do anything risky,” she tried to reason.

David slowly relaxed, turning to stare at Gwen with his soft green eyes that reminded Gwen of seaweed. “It will take too long to get approval from the royal family. It could take months, maybe even a year and I can’t afford to let him suffer any longer. He is my son and I will not let this go on for any longer,” he said, voice filled with determination.

Gwen opened her mouth, about to try and convince David to consider a different option, but laughter filled the cave. She closed her mouth and looked around, not seeing anything.

“Oh good heavens, where have my manners gone?” A deep voice filled the cave. “Why, I forgot to light the area. Please excuse the mess you are about to see, why I was not expecting any company,” the voice continued, just as the cave lit up.

David and Gwen both brought hands to cover their eyes at the bright light, but when they were able to adjust they were shocked to find various waterproof scrolls just floating all over the place, shelves with all sorts of bottles and waterproof books, and even a cauldron that looked to be bubbling and almost overflowing into the very room they were in.

What surprised them most of all, was how the cave appeared to have actually been bleached of any and all potential color.

“Please, make yourselves at home while I clean up. Oh, would you care for some refreshments?” The voice asked, owner soon showing himself.

Gwen couldn’t help but shiver. This man looked like a washed out version of her mate, pale blonde hair in the exact same style, same nose, even same face shape as David. It was unnerving, and had he have the exact same tail then she probably would have fainted.

However, this man did not have a tail. Instead, he had eight white tendrils that were all reaching out to grab some of the stray papers along with his other arms.

“Er, no thank you,” Gwen said, looking at David and giving him a look that asked ‘Are you sure this is a good idea? I am getting some really bad vibes off of this guy.’

David shook his head. “No, we actually came here for a favor. See, I’m worried about this human boy my mate and I met a while ago,” he began, his hands now resting beside his green tail. He gave a sigh, looking down at the floor of the cave. “We were wondering if...if you would be willing to temporarily turn one of us human so we can check on this boy.”

“Oh you poor unfortunate souls,” the man practically sang, making his way closer towards the two merfolk. He tilted his head to the side, neck cracking eerily, as a tendril shoved Gwen aside so he could focus on David. “Apologies, sometimes these things have a mind of their own. You two may call me Daniel, and I understand your plight. I shall help you, but it always comes at a price,” Daniel chuckled softly to himself as he went to humming.

“David, this is not a good idea,” Gwen warned, her dark purple tail lashing out at a tendril that moved a little too close for her own comfort.

“Gwen, he is one of the last sea witches who can cast this spell in a timely manner,” David whispered. “What is your price?” he asked, staring Daniel down.

Daniel gave another chuckle, opening some books and scrolls before finding the right spell. “Well, the spell will last three days and you would have to give up your voice for the legs. If you do not return to the water in three days, then I am afraid your transformation will become permanent,” he explained, grabbing a blank parchment and writing up a contract. “Now we also have to deal with some legal proceedings, so your king can’t say what we’re doing is against his laws…” he started to ramble.

“But this whole thing is against our king’s laws! Listen David, this whole thing is too sketchy and very dangerous. Frankly, I don’t fucking trust this guy,” Gwen remarked, narrowing her eyes at Daniel with pure suspicion.

“Please watch your language,” Both David and Daniel said simultaneously. They looked at each other, David giving a very bright grin while Daniel held a wide grin that was more unnerving to Gwen.

“Well, you could stick with me. I like to make my price known and clear, or you could go to the other sea witch. A real devil of the sea, then again he has his eye on the king who imprisoned him. Why, I hear he wants him as a mate and would probably use your plight to bring himself closer to said king,” Daniel chuckled darkly to himself.

“He takes advantage of poor unfortunate souls such as yourselves. He might even want to claim your souls for his collection, putting them in pain. In need,” he continued to hum, leering at the two merfolk as his tendrils wrapped themselves around their waists and brought them closer to him. “Why, compared to him I’m a saint. Helping those in need, and for a fair price.”

David shook his head, eyes completely wide as he looked at Gwen. He then looked at Daniel once more. “Please tell me the details of the contract,” he finally said after a few moments.

“Excellent choice! Now,” Daniel began, unfurling the contract as he held a pen out to David. “In exchange for your voice, I will give you legs for three days. Before the sun sets on the final day, you must return to the sea lest you remain human forever. Now I also require a fee of my own. I need a suitable offering for my gods, which I will collect after your deadline. Do we have a deal?”

David took one last look at Gwen, noticing the worried look she gave. As he took the pen, he gave a nod. “Deal,” he said, singing the contract and watching as it rolled up and went into Daniel’s hand.

“Wonderful!” Daniel cheered, clapping a couple tendrils together as he went towards the bubbling cauldron and began putting in various ingredients. “Now, I need you to start singing for me,” he said with a purr.

As soon as they were released, Gwen swam over and embraced David. “You don’t have to do this. We can find another way,” she tried to reason one last time.

“Trust me Gwen, it will be fine,” David whispered, giving her a gentle kiss on the cheek as he turned towards the cauldron. He then opened his mouth and began to sing, closing his eyes and going louder with encouragement from Daniel.

Soon David could no longer feel anything come from his throat, and yet he could still hear his voice. When he opened his eyes, he could see a small glowing ball float towards Daniel as the sea witch went and put said ball into a jar.

When he went to ask something, David went wide eyed as not a single sound came out.

“Alright, now we just have to,” Daniel began to murmur, dipping a hand into the potion before cupping some of the liquid and pouring it into the jar. After putting a cork on it, he shook the jar and then tossed it at David. “There you go. Just head to the surface and drink this, you will have your legs then. Good luck!” He cheerfully said, giving both merfolk a wave as they swam out of his lair.

Gwen shot one last glare of suspicion at Daniel as she swam out with David. She then gave a sigh and set a hand on her mate’s shoulder. “Are you sure you want to go through with this? It isn’t too late. We can take this to our king and he can help us,” she offered.

David shook his head, looking up to the surface. He opened his mouth to try and tell Gwen, but he seemingly forgot that he gave up his voice. He looked to his mate and gave a smile before mouthing to her.

For Max.

#bosswrites #campcamp #cc david #cc gwen #cc daniel #the little mermaid au #dadvid #gwenvid #established gwenvid #merfolk #mermaid #merman #i had way too much fun with this #un-edited #please do not tag this as max///vid

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redvsvblue · 7 years ago

Note

Your writing is awesome. Any fun shipping involving Michael and Ryan in an Airport related AU? (Based off that list you reblogged)

Hey, anon, anon, you’re awesome. :-P. That being said, uh, this…became less of a prompt and more of an entire fic. I’m sorry if it’s not what you wanted! (I chose ‘we have the same luggage and didn’t check the tags before we left so i’m calling you to exchange suitcases (and you also had some interesting things in your bag so i’m excited to meet you) au’ from the list!)

Thank you for prompting, though! I do hope you like it!

The phone rings awayand Michael holds it between ear and shoulder as he scratches hischin with a yawn. Late morning sunlight splashes over his livingroom, over the plush rug and the stale sofas he hasn’t sat on in aweek.

Michael lowers hisbowl of cereal to the table to flip over the rubbery luggage tagagain, rubbing his thumb over the brand name and drifting over thename messily scrawled in under the plastic covering.

The phone connectsand Michael snaps to attention, listening carefully to the silence onthe other end.

“Hello?”

“…Yeah?” Ascratchy voice replies, thick with sleep. And probably jetlag,whoops.

“Ryan?”

“…Is this Jack?”

“Uh, no, this is –I’m Michael. We, uh, we seem to have the wrong luggage.”

“Yeah, I figuredthat out when I saw the Amiibos. Give me a second.”

–

“So, you livein Austin too. Thank god you weren’t connecting.”

“Yeah,thankfully.”

“…I gottaask, what’s with the knives?”

“They’re –for a friend.”

“A friend?”

“Shut up.”

“And what’swith the makeup?”

“Okay, that’sdefinitely for afriend.”

Michael waitspatiently in the window seat at Starbucks, scrolling idly through hisphone as he waits for this Ryanto show up with his luggage.

“GavinDipshit Free?” Someone asks, tearing Michael from his screen as helooks up to see – well, who must presumably be Ryan,a charming smile and a polite hand extended and Michael’s suitcaseby his legs.

“It’sfor his birthday,” Michael says, grinning back as he shakes Ryan’shand and gestures for him to sit across. Ryanlaughs lightly and rolls his suitcase over under the table –Michael pushes Ryan’s over, and with their own luggage safelytucked next to their legs, they start up a mild conversation. Afterall, Michael does have somequestions.

“Thepotpourri was a nice touch,” Ryan says.

“Yeah,well, I’m not gonna let my dirty socks stink it up, that’s justgross.”

“Iappreciated it. Sorry I couldn’t return the favour.”

“Nah,you were fine. The body glitter is a little questionable, though, Imean, what are you, a stripper? Entertainer?”

Michaelshoots him a teasing little smile and Ryan laughs, shaking his head.

“No,uh, I was at a – convention. With a friend.” Ryan’s eyes driftover to Michael’s forearm and seem to light up a touch, his smilegrowing wider when he speaks. “The one over in Vegas? Theypremiered Far - “

“FarCry, yeah!” Michael says at the same time. “So, cosplayer?”

Ryanlifts one shoulder in a lazy shrug.

“Myfriend’s more into it than me,” he says. “At least, she putsway more effort in. The glitter was for her Overwatch day.”

“Whatwas yours?”

“Booker.From – Bioshock - “ Ryan grins when Michael starts eagerlynodding along, leaning forward on his elbows.

“Well,you gotta show me pictures now,” he says.

“I– eh, they’re not great,”Ryan says, pulling out his phone nonetheless. “Although Meg did doa pretty great Elizabeth.” He leans in a little to whisperdramatically as he opens his phone. “The photographer, however, alittle overpriced,I think.”

“Aw,dude, I know photography people!” Michael exclaims, hunching overRyan’s phone when he brings up the photos to show him. “Oh, thoseare good, yeah, shereally is a great Elizabeth.” He glances up at Ryan a little slyly.“And you’re a great Booker.”

Ryanclears his throat and flushes the faintest pink, murmuring his thanksas Michael zooms in on details.

“Didyou make the costumes?” He asks.

“Ah,no, that’s more Meg’s deal.”

“Dude,listen, next time you need a photographer, hit me up, I know a fewpeople,” Michael says, turning the phone back around. “I mean,Gavin’s all over that shit.”

“GavinDipshit Free?”

“Theone and only.”

Michaelbreaks into friendly laughter and Ryan shares it, pocketing his phoneand shifting a little in his seat.

“Hey,uh, listen, let me get you coffee and you can tell me more about yourcrushed snowglobes?” Ryan asks, something hesitant in his tone.

“Yeah,yeah, that’d be – great,” Michael says, and Ryan’s pleasedlittle smile is incrediblyendearing. God, it’s only been half an hour and Michael’s alreadythoroughly impressed with the man.

“Hey,wait,” Michael says, catching Ryan’s arm before he walks past. “Idon’t know your last name.”

“Haywood,”Ryan says, turning to shake Michael’s hand again. “Ryan Haywood.”

“Jones.Michael Jones,” Michaelreplies, clasping his hand to Ryan’s and grinning at the littlefirm shake Ryan gives.

–

“Ithought you weren’t supposed to be back until tomorrow,” Ryansays as he pulls his bag off the carousel – checks the tag andshows Michael to prove it.

“Eh,there was a snowstorm comin’,” Michael says, shoving his hands inhis pockets and shivering a little in the chill of the airport.“Bumped all our flights either earlier or later. Figured I’drather lose a day on hotel fees than getting stuck in Jersey foranother week.”

Ryanhums in agreement and pushes his beanie up out of his eyes, pullingup the handleon his suitcase to lean against it as he waits with Michael.

“Convention?”Michael asks. Ryan nods.

“Meetanyone interesting?” Michael teases, has done ever since he foundout Ryan has a penchant – ormore of a habit - ofaccidentally flirtingwith people.

“…notthere,” Ryan says, giving him a strange glance. Michaelignores the little skip in his heartbeat and nods, carefully watchingthe conveyor belt for his bag.

Itrattles up to them and Michael lunges for it, wrestling it off thebelt with exaggerated grunts as Ryan laughs behind him, steadying himwith a hand on his shoulder asMichael yanks the handleup.

They’reonly barely out of customs when something jumps Michael from behind,sending him stumbling forward a few steps and shouting an irritated“Gavin!” when he identifies who exactly is squeaking in his ear.

“Gavin,you fuck, I just got off a plane!” Michael yells, laughing anywaywhen Gavin slides off his back to come around his front, practicallybouncing on his feet in excitement.

“Michaelboi!” He exclaims, fiddling with a slim, wrapped gift in his handsand ecstatically presenting it to Michael. “Happy birthday!”

“It’syour birthday?” Ryan asks as Michael accepts the gift.

“Isthis Ryan? LovelyRyan?” Gavin asks cheekily – Michael hisses out a noand Gavin only grins wider, giving Ryan a quick once-over and holdinghis hand out to shake.

“I’veheard a lot about you,” Gavin says calmly. Michael glares at him.

Heknows too much. Michael’s going to have to snap his neck.

“Anyway,boi, didn’t want you to miss out on your birthday!” Gavin says.Michael smiles and tears openthe paper – and his jaw drops open, much to Gavin’s cleardelight.

“Holyshit, Gav!” Hebreathes, ripping the rest of the paper away and stuffing itcarelessly into his pocket as he flips over the copy of Far Cry, thenew one that came out only a month ago, just before he met Ryan. “Ican’t believe you got this for me!”

“Yeah,well, Jeremy can’t, either,” Gavin replies, tapping the cover.“It’s from him as well, but only if you let him play with you.”

“JesusChrist, thanks, Gavin,” Michael says, staring at the cover indisbelief. “…feel kinda bad for ruining your snowglobes now.”

“Nah,it’s fine! They were top! Worked great in the hammer smashin’video.”

“The– hammer…smashing?” Ryan asks, and Gavin turns to tell him allabout his slo-mo channel andMichael drools over the game.

Ryanends up sharing their taxi home, deep in a playful argument withGavin that only gets more ridiculous the longer the night goes on.

–

“’ello?”

“Ryan?”

“Michael,”Ryan says cheerfully, something rustling in his background. “What’sup?”

“I– think I have something of yours,” Michael says, slowly turningthe envelope over in his hand. “It’sa – con ticket?”

“Nope,that’s yours,” Ryan says. He briefly pulls the phone away tocroon something to his dog.

“Mine?”

“Meghad an extra,” Ryan says lightly. “Said I could give it towhoever I wanted.”

“Areyou – serious?” Michael asks. Ryan goes silent for a moment.

“Thoughtit would be a good first date,” Ryan says. “If you – wanted itto be that. We can just go as friends, it’s okay - “

“Thecoffee wasn’t our first?” Michael jokes, his heart squeezing upin his chest and Ryan’s bright, happy laugh doesn’t help.

“Seconddate, then,” Ryan concedes. “Youin?”

“I– yeah, yeah, I’m in.”

–

Michaelcurses loudly when he reads the tag on the bag he picked up andglances sadly back at the customs gate, at the strict security guardskeeping a rigid eye on the people. Ryan’sstill in the air right now, a fuck-up with the seating chart andoverbooking meaning he got the next flight but his luggage got thisone – and Michael’s a tired, travel-weary idiot who forgot tocheck the tag.

Atleast this time it’s not as bad – Ryan should be over in a fewhours, but until then Michael’s stuck with his stuff inan unfamiliar hotel in an unfamiliar city with no more clothes thanthe ones on his back.

Michael’sphone rings hours later, while he’s flipping carelessly through TVchannels and seriouslyconsidering raiding the con snacks he knows Ryan has in his bag.

“Hey,”he says, putting it on speakerphone and muting the TV.

“Propertyof Michael Jones,” Ryan reads out. “Austin, Texas.”

“Yeah,shut up, okay, so I got the wrong bag,” Michael grumbles. Ryanlaughs and car horns honk behind him.

“Youshould really be more careful about this,” Ryan teases. “Or get adifferent bag.”

“Youget a different bag!”

–

Michael’scostume is only loosely a cosplay, some scraps he put together tomake a semi-decent modern Link sort of thing – Ryan assures himit’s plenty fine, but when Michael sees Meg’s Zelda heimmediately realises he’s way out of his depth.

Still,he walks into that damn convention centre with a BJ Blazkowicz Ryanon his right and an Ocarina Zelda on his left, and determinednot to fuck up their costumes somehow.

It’samazing. It’s goddamn amazing and Ryan and Meg hit up all the gamebooths with him and the overpriced stalls – they split up for a fewpanels, Meg finds her other friends and splits for lunch while Ryanleads Michael outside to get some air and refuel, pulling snacks outof his hefty jacket with a grin and setting his guns aside to pullout some bottles of water.

“Ohgod thank you,”Michael gasps, cracking one open and downing half of it in one go asRyan chuckles beside him, tearing open the fruit snacks and tippingthem into his mouth without touching his grimed-up gloves.

Theyconverse quietly against the warm railing, basking in the sun andsharing snacks as they laugh and talk – at one point Michael inchescloser and Ryan twists a little to face him better and Michael’sheart does backflipswhen Ryan smiles at him.

“What’veyou got planned next, big guy?” Michael asks, a bottle danglingfrom his fingers as Ryan shrugs and looks him over.

“Inthe next hour or in the next minute?” He asks.

“Youplan to the minute?”

“Somethings.” Ryan’s eyes drop to Michael’s lips and – oh– oh, that’s whathe means. Michael nervously licks his lips and Ryan’s cheeks flushthat familiar faint pink again when Michael steps even closer, barelyany space between them.

“Sowhat is your plan for the next minute?” Michael asks, tilting hishead.

Inresponse, Ryan simply cups his jaw and leans in for a gentle kiss,softly pressing their lips together and then a little harder whenMichael sighs against him, butterflies dancing in his chest at thesimple, electric touchof Ryan’s mouth.

Ryanhums contentedly and Michael places a hand on his neck to encouragehim closer, captivated by theslow way Ryan sinks into him, the easy way his lips move andMichael’s just aboutto open his mouth -

Acamera shutter goes off and startles them into each other, Ryan’sforehead bashing against Michael’s and Michael’s nose rubbed inthe makeupped grime on Ryan’s cheek.

Michaelsprings apart to snap at the assholephotographer and finds it none other than hisasshole photographer, with that stupid happy grin and that stupidexpensive camera and –

“Gavinwhat the fuck are you doing here?!”

“Meginvited me,” he says simply, tongue poking out between his lips.

“Didyou know about this?” Michael asks, whirling on an awfullysheepish Ryan.

“Maybe,”he allows. “He was –going to take pictures later, for us.”

Michaelsquints at him.

“Ididn’t know he’d do this!”Ryan protests, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

“It’sa good photo, though,” Gavin adds, stepping forward to showMichael. “’S sweet.”

“Youasshole,” Michaelmutters, grabbing the camera to turn the screen towards him. Fuck,it is a good photo.Fuck Gavin and his fuckingamazing photography skills.

“Asshole,”Michael murmurs again, more reluctantly, and Ryan peers over hisshoulder to study the picture.

“It’sgood,” Ryan says, glancing up at Gavin. “Great shot.”

“Thanks,Ryan,” Gavin chirps, grinningsmugly at Michael. “See? He’snice.”

“HeyRyan, stop encouraging dipshit.”

“Oi!”

–

“Hey.”

“Hey,what’s up?”

“Eh,nothing much, just callin’. How’reyou?”

“Yeah,yeah, I’m okay. Thanks for Friday, by the way, it was really fun.”

“Yeah,it was for – me, too. Thanks for letting me stay over.”

“I,uh – of course. Yeah.”

“SorryI stole your shirt.”

“Bringit back next time and we’re even.”

“…justbring it back?”

“Wearit.”

“Thatsounds like the Ryan I know.” A pause. “Oh, yeah, actually, I didcall to say something.”

“Hm?”

“Igot a new bag.”

“I– really?”

“Yeah,it’s bright fuckin’ red, can’t be missed.”

“I,uh, I got a new one, too.”

“Ohyeah? What colour?”

“…red.”

“Ryan.”

“No,wait, wait – what brand is yours?”

“It’sAL, it’s the, uh, the AL All-day large - “

“ -large compartment storage case?”

“Michael?”

“…”

“Michael?”

“Areyou telling me we got the same fucking bag,Ryan goddamn Haywood?!”

“Greatminds think alike?”

“Thesame fucking bag?!”

#ragehappy #myan #fanfic #mine #my myan #prompt reply

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thetimetravellinggaybar · 7 years ago

Text

Chapter Ten: The Round Up

As the officer and his entourage were travelling towards the bar, some of its inhabitants were getting acquainted. They had chosen an extremely lucky time as the group of fairly modern female writers and the ancient Greek women were all present, and had just become aware of the others’ presence.

Sappho and Arete were chatting with beer and observing the coming and goings in the bar. Simone de Beauvoir overheard this and, as would be expected, was rather surprise at hearing this tongue being used conversationally.

“Virginia,” she whispered, leaning close. “Are those two speaking ancient Greek, do you think?”

“Oh, I couldn’t say. I know only a few words.”

“Of course, I remember. You were never offered the institutional schooling, your education was your father’s library... very inspiring.”

“I must say it is a little unnerving that you know such things without me telling you,” giggled Virginia. “I am like an artifact to you.”

“You are Providence, my lady,” smiled Simone, with an exaggerated tip of her head. “You are a miracle. Now, I am certain that those two are speaking Greek - we must go find out who they are. After you, I absolutely refuse to take anything for granted.”

Grabbing Virginia by the hand, Simone led her over to the bar.

“Excuse me. My name is Simone de Beauvoir. Who might you be?” asked Simone, in rusty classicist’s Greek.

Sappho and Arete were extremely surprised at hearing someone speaking their language. The only people they had heard speaking their tongue were Oscar and the three greek men: Achilles, Patroculus and Diogenes.

“Delighted to meet you,” replied Sappho. “My name is Sappho, of Lesbos, and this is the lovely Arete of Cyrene. Your knowledge of our language seems a rare thing in these parts. But you are not Greek. Are you a local?”

Simone was speechless, agape. She shook her head.

“What is it, Simone?” Virginia whispered, noticing her disarray. “Who is she?”

“Sappho,” breathed Simone. And suddenly a wide smile spread like sunlight across her face; she laughed in disbelief. “Sappho of Lesbos.”

Virginia’s eyes widened, and she turned to Sappho in amazement.

“And who are you?” the Greek poetess asked, a smile tugging at her lips.

Virginia looked at her blankly.

“Her name is Virginia,” filled in Simone. “She speaks no Greek.”

Sappho nodded. “And where are you two from?”

Simone, at a loss for a way to describe the concept of France in ancient Greek, paused for a moment. “Gaul,” she said at last. “And…” she glanced at Virginia. “And a nearby island.”

“Oh! You are from an island as well!” Sappho laughed. “We must stay together. To be born on an island is always to risk solitude, don’t you think? Oh - my apologies - I had forgotten you didn’t speak Greek - ” she turned to Simone - “you could translate?”

Simone nodded, and translated what she had understood. Virginia smiled warmly. “Tell her I love her poetry, will you?”

Simone translated, and Sappho smiled. “What year are you from? How far through the years has my work survived?”

Simone did some quick mental arithmetic. “About 2400 years of 365 days, and probably longer.”

Virginia looked at Simone questioningly. Simone quickly translated. “I'm sure her- your- reputation has gone even further than us. I believe some of the women here are from an era after my own, we could investigate.” she suggested.

Virginia looked over the crowd and caught Marsha P. Johnson’s gaze, beckoning her over. Marsha approached curiously.

“Hello Virginia. It still feels really weird talking to you, you died four years before I was born.” she said.

“Well this will seem even more peculiar,” started Virginia excitedly, “Meet Sappho of Lesbos.”

The three women smiled as Marsha’s jaw dropped in amazement. “Really? You mean? Seriously?” Marsha saw Simone translating and understood how they were communicating. “Well a classical education does help… Can you say hi, and that I… love her work.”

Simone took a little bit more time to explain the situation, “This is Marsha P Johnson. She is far more of a commoner than I am, and younger, but still knows all about you. She fought for,” Simone stalled. Never in her extremely formal education had she learnt how to say gay, homosexual or lesbian. “for the rights of men who love men and women who love women and…” she also didn't have a word for transgender. “Women with men's bodies and men with women's bodies.”

Sappho looked at them in confusion. “How so? How has she fought?”

Simone translated this into English; she and Marsha exchanged a glance.

“Should we tell her about it?” Marsha asked in a whisper. “Stonewall?”

Simone nodded. “I’ll do my best.” She then started with the most accurate retelling that her vocabulary would allow. “An enforcer of law came into a… wine house and arrested her because she would not reveal her genitalia, which I don’t believe correspond to her manner of dressing. She fought back.”

Sappho stared at Simone, then at Marsha, in shock and horror. “An official asked to see... that? And she got arrested when she refused? How terrible has the world become… Please tell me it is not that bad in other lands.”

Simone shook her head, “Other countries would have put her to death.”

Sappho looked like she was going to add something, but at that point the officer burst into the room and it silenced.

“Right, is everyone looking at me? Can you all hear me? I’m looking for anyone hear who thinks they’re in the wrong decade or century. Anyone who feels out of place in this time?”

At this point, Alan Turing, Siegfried Sassoon, Wilfred Owen, Frida Kahlo, Rosa Luxemburg, Virginia Woolf, Simone De Beauvoir, Sappho, Arete and Kristina, as well as Erin and Tina, stepped forward, accompanied by a loose assembly of gangly nineteen-year-olds in classic rock tees too much black eyeliner. Erin and Tina looked at the group and laughed.

“He means people who were born in the wrong decade, you sure that applies to you?” asked Erin.

The teens nodded blandly; Erin shrugged and turned back to Kristina.

“Is this everyone? The ones who don’t speak English - Greeks? Some of you? I think? Is that all under control?” He caught a nod from Simone. “Great. Now, listen, I don’t know how much you’ve already figured out, but there’s some stuff I need to tell you all. I’m gonna need you to cooperate. I’ve arrested four of you already, and that’s enough for me, thank you very much. Is there - are you - is someone translating for whoever needs it?” A second nod from Simone. “Perfect. So. You’ve all just sort of… well, turned up, and it’s all very unexpected, and nobody’s really sure what to do with you. That’s pretty much clear to you all?”

A nod from the assortment of punk-rock teens had Erin laughing as the officer went on.

“You’re probably all pretty disorientated, why don’t we step outside so I can talk about integration. I’ve contacted a job club, and they’ve been very helpful and gotten a large number of offers. I’ll show you everything, and get you registered in the government once we’ve gotten to my office.”

The pile of young adults looked at each other unsure, but tagged along anyway. Most could do with a hand finding a job anyway. Erin glanced back at them, but they still seemed to think they were in the right place, so she shrugged and left them to it.

When the last members of the group had trailed into the police station, the officer sighed, sat down at his desk, and dug out a pile of paperwork.

“Now, I checked this with the mayor and she says the system uses your birthday to identify you and to give you an age so I suggest that you fill it in with the real day and month of your birth, then take your age away from this year - 2017 - and write that down. Other than that, stick to the truth. We’re not sure how this is going to work, but it’s worth a try, right?”

A murmur - “Two thousand-... did you hear that?” - went through the room, but most of the group set to work without much question, too overwhelmed by their new surroundings to question the decision. The modern teens stood around awkwardly, wondering what was going on, but too intrigued to leave just yet.

The officer turned to them after handing out papers to everyone in the room.

“Are you - you all speak English, right? - did you change your clothes since you got here? Where’s all that makeup from? I thought you were all, like, eighteenth-century intellectuals or whatever.”

“What?” asked one of them. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Can you tell me when you were born?”

“I didn’t do anything! You’ve got the wrong guy, officer!”

“Don’t worry,” the officer laughed. “I’m not trying to arrest you. The thing is, for the last couple days, we’ve had a bit of an issue at that bar back there. Some freaky sci-fi time-travel thing -” he stopped, and sighed - “I know I sound like I’m batshit insane, but I swear to God, yesterday I had to arrest William bloody Shakespeare, so I figured I had to do something before it all got way, way out of hand. I guess that’s new information to you?”

The teens nodded.

“We could, like, help, though,” one of them added.

“Can we meet Shakespeare?”

“Are those people in, like, togas - are they, like, actual Greeks?”

“Greece is a country, Harold,” came the sarcastic reply.

“You know what I mean.”

The officer interrupted them. “Hey, I just thought of something. Do any of you have extra beds at home? None of these people have any real money on them, and they’ll need papers before we can find them serious jobs. We can’t afford to keep them all at the motel forever.”

There were a few volunteers. Some knew people who might be able to help. The officer went on: “I’m going to need to check in with you in a couple of days to see how it’s going. How about Saturday? Show up here whenever?”

Erin broke in. “I don’t think we’ll be able to make it for Saturday. Pride is all day long, and I’ve got a space saved for the float I’ve been working on.”

“Oh my god,” cut in Tina. “Oh… my god. Pride. Erin, these people have never been to pride.”

Erin’s eyes lit up. “This is going to be incredible.”

“How’s the float going? Is there still time for some changes? I just had the coolest idea,” Tina gushed. “It’s gonna be the best parade you’ve ever seen.”

“Oh,” Erin laughed, eyes wide with excitement. “Oh, absolutely. I might need some help, but...” she turned to look at Kristina. “I don’t think we’re really lacking volunteers, if you know what I mean. My house at eight tomorrow? We’ll need all the time we have.”

The idea of the project was explained to the roomful of historical figures, along with a quick overview of the concept of pride and a gesture-filled description of a parade float. It didn’t take much to convince them to participate.

#timetravellinggaybar #virginia woolf #Simone de Beauvoir #Sappho #Arete of Cyrene #pride #gay writers #lgbt history #Collaborative Novel #writing #sci fi & fantasy #time travel #king kristina of sweden

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fireemblemfemslash · 7 years ago

Text

The Spoils (Fanfic Olivia x Cherche)

Wrote this a while ago for a prompt on the FE amino and thought I’d share it with you guys ^^ hope you enjoy!

XxX

“So don’t forget to use that beautiful smile of yours.” Inigo instructed, pulling his mother’s hair back into its usual thick, trademark ponytail. Olivia giggled slightly, a blush caused by elation dusting her cheeks.

“Yes Inigo.” She smiled as he placed her typical white and golden band on her head. Sitting up, she examined the delicate makeup that decorated her face (too much would hide her natural beauty apparently) in the bathroom mirror and satisfied with her and Inigo’s work, rose to see herself in the full length mirror. The look was, admittedly, rather old fashioned but still captured her evident beauty.

“That’s right. Not too formal but winningly so at the same time. I’ve raised you well Mum.” He laughed, watching Olivia gaze at herself in the mirror nerves and pride both sparking instantaneously. She wore a relatively low cut red dress, which deliberately hugged her hips tightly. To her embarrassment it was also a low cut, showing off her unimpressive cleavage slightly. Over that, Inigo had given her a jacket a fitting jacket to wear, one she could slip off quickly if need be. On her feet were a pair of cutesy heels, a little too high for her liking. Inigo grinned, pulling her hair back slightly and held up the small plaits that mirrored his mother’s face.

“Inigo…”

“Just remember what I told you and this date should go exactly to plan.” He giggled turning her towards him and kissed her forehead. “Don’t worry Mum. You look beautiful.”

Olivia looked at her son, her strong, proud, flirtatious son then smiled. “I love you.” He kissed her forehead lightly again.

“Come on, the carriage is outside to carry the beautiful princess away.” He took her hand, leading her to the doorway then handed her her purse. “Wait, breathmint?” Olivia paused, rustling through her bag.

“I have some.” She giggled, shaking the packet in front of him. Nodding thankfully he opened the door and waved to the cab driver outside.

“Knock ‘em dead.” He grinned, kissing her cheek before watching her run to the sleek black car.

XxX

The second Olivia stepped out of the cab, she knew she’d made a huge mistake. The dress no longer looked as well fitting and beautiful as before, instead it squeezed her too tight, forcing her to take raspy breaths and her heart to beat faster. The dress seemed to be embodying her nerves.

The speed date was based in a seedy looking hotel. The lobby was painted a dark leather red with a circular, wooden information desk

“And who might you be?” A man with a full suit stood in front of her, his hands politely tucked behind his back.

“Oh! Sorry I’m just so nervous, I didn’t notice you. I’m here for the speed date?” She stuttered unsure as to whether she should shake his hand or leave him be.

“Excellent! Now before we get you started, please tell me your name and details.” He nodded, handing her a small sheet and a name tag. Her eyes widened at the sight of them as she tried to take deep breaths. It was fine. He guided her to a seat in the lobby where she was instructed to write down her details, date of birth, mobile number those sort of things.

However the question she was truly unprepared for was the last.

'What do you look for in a partner?’

She froze. Immediately who she thought of was Lon'qu. Strong, handsome, perfect Lon'qu. Of course she could never put any of that down, especially not after the… Incident. Sighing slightly, she gripped the pen and wrote the following words.

'Anything.’

She smiled at the answer. For some reason it filled her heart with a soft pride, like the light that beans through the cracks in clouds, bright, beautiful and surprising. Her response was wistful, romantic. Folding the paper she handed it to the man, smiling brilliantly.

“Please enter here. Since you are rather early, I wish for you to be seated.” The man pushed open the doors. Inside was row upon row of small tables, each with a small rose as a centrepiece and two seats on opposite sides of each one. Already one of the tables was occupied by a single person. Olivia ran over to take the seat next to them.

And there sat what Olivia believed to be the 100% perfect woman. Simply sat there next to her, smiling in welcome.

She had long, floaty pink hair and soft, velvety brown eyes. Her makeup was intricate and on point, highlighting her ornate features perfectly. Her poise was so graceful and sophisticated Olivia could hardly believe she was at this speed dating event. Surely she could pick her men from the street, simply choosing the one that took her fancy.

“Hello there.” Olivia’s gaze snapped back to the woman’s face, her face going bright red at the attention that had been given to her. She was smiling and looking in her direction.

“O-oh… I didn’t see you there!” What had Inigo said to do if ever an occasion like this occurred?

“My name is Cherche. Please, relax it is merely us who are here.” Cherche said, her smile soft and reassuring, inviting conversation.

“Sorry.. Where are my manners?! My name is O-Olivia… It’s a pleasure to meet you.” She stuttered, clenching her hands under the table.

“Haha… That is a truly beautiful name.” Cherche replied. And then suddenly, without warning, she leaned down to take her bag and went over to Olivia’s table. Olivia couldn’t contain the blush that raged on her cheeks due to the action.

“Wha-What are you doing?” Olivia gasped, her hands taking the skirt of her dress. They weren’t meant to be the ones on a date!

“Well seeing as we’re both the only ones here I thought we might as well talk.” She stated, smiling implicitly. Then, held her hand out for Olivia to take. She did so, shaking Cherche’s hand a little too enthusiastically.

“God, I’m so nervous! I’m really sorry…” Their hands parted and her sk returned under the table to fiddle with the hem of her dress. Suddenly, she felt a pair of hands in her own. She looked up.

“So am I.”

The earnestness written on Cherche’s face almost made Olivia cry. A goddess was relating to her! Her blush deepened, covering her entire face. Why couldn’t she keep these types of things under control? The thought only heated her, forcing her to blush twice as much. Eventually she settled into simply stating into the woman’s eyes. Suddenly a large creak broke their concentration and both of them whipped their heads around to see a group of people move to the tables.

“It seems we’ve been interrupted.” Cherche said, giving Olivia’s hand a tight squeeze before lifting herself from her chair. “I’d better get back to my seat… I’ll see you around.”

“Yes! I mean yes…” Olivia giggled, a smile on her lips.

The next few hours of dating were all nerve racking and unnecessary to Olivia. Each time she’d meet a desperate man or woman who were either nervous like her or vulgar and she dared say mildly terrifying. Every once in a while she stole glances at Cherche however she was never given a second thought in return. She was simply speaking casually to whoever came to her table. Nothing to it. So why was she feeling so jealous?!

Finally it was over. Sighing, Olivia pushed her chair under the table and walked to the crowded lobby. The same man who’d brought her in handed her a sheet of paper asking how it went, were the facilities acceptable and all these predictable questions. When reaching the final question however, she was profoundly stumped.

'Who caught your interest the most?’

Olivia moved her head to look around. And there Cherche was, beautiful and made up. Inigo had explained to her that confidence was needed for these kind of things.

Cherche turned towards her and her heart stopped. Cherche smiled and get heart melted. Cherche touched her arm lightly and her body dissolved. For the second time she gripped her pen tightly and bravely wrote down the single word.

'Cherche’

After folding the paper she went to the man quickly, placing into his hands and thanking him hurriedly left.

XxX

“I’m meant to get a call from the person if we both each other’s names down.”

“I know that. So… Did anyone catch your fancy?” Inigo grinned, laying down a mug of coffee for his mother onto the table. A blush soon flushed her cheeks.

“There was this one person…” She whispered, blowing on the coffee to cool it. Inigo’s grin widened as he took a sip of his.

“Spill!” He laughed, placing his cup down and leaning forward slightly.

“I’d rather not, hot coffee hurts when it’s hot…” Olivia joked, waving off his irritated frown. “Her name’s Cherche…”

“Oh so it’s a girl?” Inigo beamed, resting his head on his hand playfully.

“Uhuh… She’s really beautiful too and she seemed really nice… I really, really like her.” Olivia said, smiling at the memory of the woman.

“What did she look like?” Inigo grinned, taking another sip of his coffee.

“Well she had this gorgeous long pink hair, not like min but straight and darker… And her eyes were so pretty they looked to friendly and open.” She sighed. A ring from her phone interrupted the continuation of Cherche’s description. Hurriedly, she grabbed it pressing the answer button. She turned to see Inigo give her an exaggerated thumbs up and giggled at the sight.

“Hello? This is Olivia speaking.”

“Excellent! We counted up all the replies to the questions and it turns out we’ve found you a match.” Olivia gasped. Cherche had put her name down too?

“Are you sure you’re not mistaken?” She stuttered, holding the phone with both hands.

“No, I can assure you that you’ve been matched.”

“You mean Cherche wrote my name down too?” She gulped, pressing the phone against her ear with a fierce force.

“That is correct Miss. She’d like to meet you tomorrow. Would you like her details so you may speak further on this subject?”

“Yes!! I mean, yes please…” Inigo nodded to her, standing up and moving to hug her.

“Alright then. Just write these down…”

Olivia couldn’t get a pen fast enough. Soon all Cherche’s disclosed details were down on a small piece of paper.

“Thank you so much! Oh I can’t wait!” Olivia giggled, hugging Inigo back as she spoke into the phone.

“Great! Good to hear that we managed make a compatible match.”

“Oh you did! Thank you!” She hanged up, grabbing hold of Inigo and giggling happily. “I’m so happy!!”

“I know you are Mum. So when’s the date?” He smiled, taking the paper.

“Tomorrow at that cafe near the river. We’ve been together a couple of times.” She said, snuggling into the crook of his neck.

“Well you’d better get some sleep. Big day tomorrow Mum.” He smiled, pulling away and bringing her to her bedroom.

“Thank you Inigo… What would I do without you?” She sighed, flipping onto her bed.

“I don’t know Mum.” He beamed, leaning down to kiss her forehead. “Night.”

“Goodnight Inigo. Love you!” She called after him. After shutting the door she cuddled her pillow, her cheeks aflame. Tomorrow really was a big day.

“I can’t wait to see you again Cherche…”

XxX

[[ Submission provided by @artisticthearies. ]]

Thank you so so much for sharing your wonderful fic with us, it was incredibly sweet and I couldn’t stop grinning the whole way through! 💛

-Mod Sumia

#submission #writing #fe13 #cherche #olivia #mod sumia #THIS IS SO WONDERFUL thank you so much again i enjoyed this immensely!!#we're always happy to receive submissions ! this made my night to read it's so sweet

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