#honestly can’t wait for tommy to make him speechless again

[cjlouwho]

Ooooh, CJ, what bad decision is Buck gonna make in the name of bisexual love?

There’s always more people to maim, Sarah, and Buck looks just about ready to do it in some of those stills we saw 😆

[pedrospatch]

mya, i am speechless. but i am going to try to put into words how much i fell in love with this fic and with the universe you’ve created.

the first half, when she’s getting ready, when she goes to meet her escort, when it’s TOMMY, i just knew sometning was up and let me tell you, the tension you created was so damn good that i felt my chest so tight the entire time until Joel finally showed up. and then when he did show up, i was waiting for him to tell her but the fact that reader is just so used to this intense world and she KNEW was exactly what i’d expect out of a mafia world. idk if that makes sense lol but it just fit the bill is what i’m trying to say.

Joel being the one to tell her versus ANYONE else speaks volumes to the dynamic between the two long before Talk and honestly when we got a look into her fear of being alone, my heart broke for her sm 🥺

also can i just say how much i fucking adored the way you characterized Tommy?! especially in the present day, like yes his mafia, but you kept some charming boyishness to him and i just loved him haha

oh god Joel being away for so much longer than he said, i don’t know how she didn’t just lose her fucking mind. and then he returned and then you proceeded to break my heart a little bit (but that’s okay feel free to do it again bc it’s so good) as an audience we have an idea WHY Joel is doing this but putting ourselves in reader’s shoes? i am on team reader and don’t blame her at all for the way she reacted and for running away.

i love this i can’t wait for the next installment and the prequel 🤍

Foreigner’s God | A Joel Miller Mafia AU (Chapter Two)

NOTE: This is a follow up to TALK, A Joel Miller Mafia AU. It is not advised to read as a stand alone.

Pairing: Mafia!Joel x afab!reader

Summary: The morning after your unexpected night with Joel, you reflect on a substantial moment between the two of you while awaiting his safe return.

Warnings/tags: MDNI. Mentions of death and murder. Depictions of anxiety and grief. Foul language. Platonic Tommy Miller x Reader. Age gap (reader is 25, Joel is 40). Sexual references. Heavy angst. Joel and reader being goddamn idiots.

Word count: 7.5k

a/n: well, here she is. yet again, this would not be happening with out the continuous support of my jfc gals. incredibly special shoutout to @dinsdjrn for all the time taken out of their day to assist me in finishing this chapter, and to @cupofjoel for consistently listening to me babble about this story and always offering to read parts i am unsure of. you are gems. i understand the lack of smut may be disappointing, but pls realize, part one was initially only supposed to be a one shot. things change when stories become series!

chapter one. | series masterlist. | chapter three.

❝ She feels no control of her body,

she feels no safety in my arms.

I’ve no language left to say it,

but all I do is quake to her.

Breaking if I try to convey it,

the broken love I make to her. ❞

- Foreigner’s God, Hozier.

3 MONTHS EARLIER.

You loved to dress up.

The plethora of events your fathers line of work required you to attend was seemingly never ending, and while they often resulted in evenings of dull conversation with less than interesting men, the preparation that went into dolling yourself up beforehand was a meticulous event. Especially when a certain brown eyed gentleman was guaranteed to be in attendance.

Yes, you loved to dress up.

Loved to dress up for Joel Miller.

The attention he graced you with nowadays had become a sort of heroin to you. Always decadent, inviting you to dance, or fetching you a fresh flute of champagne. Sometimes he would save you from those less than interesting conversations, graciously interrupting whatever elderly guest was talking your ear off — to which they happily excused, for who were they to deny Mr. Miller access to whatever he wanted whenever he pleased? — and looping his arm with yours, whispering as he whisked you away to safety.

“Don’t worry darlin’, you’re stuck with me now.”

What a fantastic place to be. It’s all you could think about, all you could breathe for while you finished the final touches of your elegant ensemble. The sweetheart neckline of the black gown complimented your chest, fabric taut to your skin, accentuating your curves in all the deliciously right places.

Your father had promised when he left that morning to send a driver for you. This time, it was a charity auction. A good way to keep the Clan in good graces with the people. Besides, with their influx of money, some of it needed to be spent to avoid suspicion.

You were spritzing your wrists with perfume when the knock came down below. After your mothers passing, your father had moved you both into a two story condo. The home you called your childhood too much to bear, and far too much space to occupy for just two people. It was better this way; distancing yourselves from a painful past in hopes of a brighter future.

Your heels clicked down the wooden steps, taking one last peek in the foyer mirror before eagerly answering the door. You had expected to see Marco, the short and stout dark headed man who had been your fathers loyal mode of transport since Joel deemed it unsafe for him to travel alone. He had taken your life into his protection time and time again, much like all of Joel’s men did. You knew that if it was someone he trusted, you could trust them too.

But your gleeful expression was quickly replaced by confusion upon opening the door, for outside its confines stood Tommy Miller. He was dressed in a fashion that suggested he was also on his way to the event, but wore a countenance that assured whatever he was here for took precedence. Wordlessly, your eyes flitted behind him to see the group of four other clan members lingering on your front steps. Like a herd of tamed bulls.

Your stomach twisted into a knot.

“Tommy,” you expelled, shoulders slouching in what manifested as disappointment. “I wasn’t expecting you. What’s…what’s going on?” You raised a brow at him, watching his face contort into an array of trepidation.

“I know, hun. I’m sorry. Change of plans for the evening. Mind if we come in?” You knew you didn’t have much of a choice. No order was a fluke, especially if one of the Miller bothers were involved. Nodding dutifully, you stepped out of the way, holding the door open for the group of men to file in.

The silent lingering had you frustrated as you closed the door, flitting your eyes between the group, most of whom refused to meet your eye-line. You turned to Tommy with furrowed brows, a nausea beginning to settle deep inside of you. Something was wrong. You could sense it, feel it. The anticipation of it was nearly too much to bear.

“Tommy,” you bit, earning his attention. His hands were shoved in the pockets of his slacks. “What is going on?”

Secrecy was a gift to the world you lived in. Loyalty was a trait you were taught as honorable from a young age, and since then, you had never questioned the integrity of the empire your father fought to maintain. You were a family in ways, bonded by the inexplicable nature to protect and support. Tommy knew that. And you wondered if that’s the reason his voice trembled the slightest bit when he spoke.

“Listen, honey,” he started, his voice low and calculated. You could tell he was holding back. Your mind didn’t even know what scenario to run to when he said his next words. “Somethin’s uh…somethin’s happened.”

You gave him a look that suggested frustration, placing a hand on your hip and an arch to your brow. “Alright…and what would that be?” You were certainly running late by now, wondering if this change of plans entailed you missing the event all together. You frowned selfishly at the thought of losing the opportunity to have Joel by your side all night, unaware of the storm that was brewing beyond the doors of your home.

Tommy gave you a sympathetic look, and you noted the exchange of glances between the men that accompanied him. It made your teeth grit. You hated being the only person in the room out of the loop. It’s why you had told your father you wouldn’t be joining him for clan meetings anymore; they always made you sit outside the parlor while they chatted, brewing with both curiosity and annoyance. Secrecy was a gift. But it was also the most maddening part of the lifestyle.

“I was only told to make sure’ya didn’t leave,” Tommy explained, and by the apologetic look in his eyes, you knew that he was aware that wasn’t an answer you would have an easy time accepting.

You scoffed at him, shaking your head as if it was the most ridiculous response he could have said. “And just who exactly told you to keep me here? I don’t like being held up in my own house, Tommy,” you bit at him, but he remained calmed. He had always been a bit more rational than the rest.

“I understand,” he said, tilting his head at you cautiously. “But we’ve got some…sensitive matters to discuss, and he didn’t want me to-”

You had no time to inquire about the he in question when another knock came to the front door. Tommy barked a come in before you had the chance to protest otherwise. Your mouth closed just as quickly as it opened when the door swung open, the brooding frame that dipped through the entryway nearly knocking the wind out of your lungs. Your hands fell from your hips, body yielding to the sheer panic that began to settle in your bones.

“Joel,” you breathed when he walked through the door frame, focusing his eyes on you. Frustration melted into pure terror at that moment. You couldn’t even allow yourself to admire his gelled curls or dashing suit; the unsettling nature of his arrival taking precedence. It was true, you had seen Joel more often these last few years than ever before. But never like this. In your fathers space without his presence, seeking you out on his own volition.

He closed the door carefully behind him, exchanging a look with Tommy, somewhat winded in the way he spoke. “Can y’all give us a moment?” he muttered, to which Tommy provided a curt nod, gesturing his hand for the other men to follow him out of the foyer, towards the adjacent common room.

As their footsteps fizzled out, Joel returned his attention towards you, yet, his eyes were on the floor. He took calculated steps, and you felt your chest tightening with an unspoken terror.

“What’s going on?” A repeated question, but barely a whisper. Unsure if you were prepared for the answer that followed.

Joel stopped his tracks a few feet before you, looking at you with hooded eyes and a hung head. There was an exhaustion to his face, one that you had always noted, but now seemed deeply personal.

“Darlin’, why don’t you sit down?”

No endearing name in the world could have persuaded you to react positively to his suggestion. You scoffed in disbelief, taking a few steps back away from him. This wasn’t like Joel. He didn’t bullshit, he didn’t have time to beat around the bush. You had seen it time and time again, a ruthless hand dealt to those that wronged him. But here he was, cradling you like glass, assuming you may break.

You had always been treated by him as an equal, something that was lacking in this moment, and you couldn’t bear to accept it.

“I don’t want to fucking sit down, Joel. I want to know what the hell is going on?” Nobody could get away with such a tone in front of Joel Miller.

Nobody except you.

And maybe, a part of you knew that.

He gritted his teeth, clearly putting his most patient foot forward. You got the impression being challenged wasn’t a task he dealt with often. He lifted a hand, bringing it to the coarse hair on his cheeks and scratching at it. Something you knew he often did when he was overwhelmed. “I don’t—I don’t know any good way to say this, darlin’. I really, really don’t,” he muttered, a foreign defeat in his tone. And when he looked to you then, the vulnerability in his sorrow filled eyes was enough to have your head spinning.

You felt the air leave your chest. Blinking at him rapidly, you took a few more miscalculated steps back, as if the distance would change the outcome. You only spoke once your back hit the wall.

"Who?" One question that held the weight of the entire world. You would look back on this moment one day, and you would recall that buried in the confines of your subconscious, you knew. You knew the reason Tommy was sent to wrangle you into one place. You knew the reason Joel wanted to be the one to speak with you. You knew what he wanted to speak with you about, as there was nothing more dire amongst the unrelated family than losing one of their own. This was damage control, and you were soon to be broken pieces in the fallout.

Joel took a long moment, his teeth sinking into his bottom lip, his brows pulled melancholic over his dark eyes. Maybe, his voice even wavered a little. "They were leavin' the port. I— the whole thing wasn't s'posed to take more than twenty minutes. Next thing I know, I'm gettin' calls about a hijack and—”

The details wouldn't do any good. You figured Joel deciphered that much by the look on your face, trembling lips and wide eyes peering into his very soul. He drew in a long breath, only to release it as a defeated sigh.

"I'm so sorry."

The scream left your throat before you even had a chance to acknowledge it was there. A wail of burning hot agony that sent you to the ground, sliding back against the wall, losing feeling in your limbs. The world around you morphed into a blur of white noise and tears. You didn't know how you got there, but mere seconds passed before you collapsed against Joel's chest. He fell to his knees before you, catching you in your grief. The thundering sound of footsteps echoed from the living room; you couldn't hear the words he said, but you saw the distorted outline of Tommy's troubled face as he hovered over you and Joel. Voices turned into static, suddenly vividly aware of the beating of your heart against your chest and the pattern of your breathing that grew uneven the more you became aware of it.

"Joel, she's gonna send herself into a fuckin' panic like that."

"Goddamnit, Tommy. I know, okay. Just - just go, just give us some space."

"What're we gonna do with her?"

"Kinda fuckin' question s'that? Take your men and get out, m'stayin' here. I'll call you when…"

You would've hurled to the floor if it wasn't for the stability of Joel. No matter how deep your nails stung his skin, he let you cling to him, wet face cradled in the crook of his elbow as you sobbed incoherent strings of agony. This was it. This was the moment you became truly alone, a fear so grand it had haunted you your entire life before it finally manifested before you. Who were you? Every success and comfort you had ever experienced in your life was dealt by the hand of your fathers achievements. How would you sustain, provide any sort of sense for yourself in this world? A world you only navigated by the guidance and protection of others. Maybe your biggest fear wasn’t being alone, but being abandoned by the only people you had ever known as secure. 

What use would the Millers have for you now? 

You weren’t sure if you recalled the rest of that evening correctly, but you knew through its entirety, Joel was with you. He was carrying you in his arms from your hurdle on the floor, guiding you up the stairs and into your bedroom. He sat you at the edge of the mattress, kneeling between your knees as you held your face between your hands, hunched over and only stable by the way he gripped your biceps tenderly to keep you upright. He undid the clasp of your heels, gingerly taking them off your feet. You weren’t sure how long it took you to register any words he had said to you, but Joel remained patient, despite the glint of vengeance behind his eyes. 

He helped you to your feet when you were ready, leading you towards the bathroom. He sat outside the door the entire time you undressed and willed yourself into a scalding shower, the sound of your wails echoing off the tiled walls. You managed to get yourself into your t-shirt and underwear before the internal pain overcame you again, and you were gripping at the wall, only for your vision to blur and your body to sink back to the floor. Joel must have heard ruckus from beyond the wall, for he was through the door in an instant, finding refuge on the floor with you. This time, he didn’t need to pull you to him. You crawled into his lap willingly, wrapping your arms around his neck and squeezing onto him for dear life. He wrapped you up into him, flushing you to his chest with strong, safe arms. The sensation of his body providing some relief to the way yours ached. 

He placed a chaste kiss on your temple, burying his face into your damp hair. Your sputtering cries rattled you against him, but Joel held you steady and never let go. 

“Listen to me,” he whispered, delicately rocking your bodies to a steady, subtle back and forth. He could read you so acutely, providing the exact comfort you needed. “M’gonna find who did this, darlin’.” 

Fatigue was beginning to consume you, the array of emotions you felt suddenly an overwhelming wall you were endlessly crashing into. Grief. Sadness. Anger. Wrath. 

“And when I do—” 

But even in your state of debilitating anguish, you didn’t miss Joel’s vow to you. The very first promise. 

“I will kill them.” 

PRESENT DAY.

When you wake up in his bed, he isn’t there. But the smell of him is.

Your body aches as you stretch out onto the mattress, the sun soaking through the curtains warms your naked skin, limbs tangled messily around the sheets. It takes your eyes a moment to open themselves and adjust to the stinging light, a vast contrast to the dark clouds that haunted the horizon just hours ago.

And when you feel the dull throb pulsing between your legs, you’re quickly reminded of the events that took place beneath those clouded skies.

You cannot help the anguish that washes over you. An emptiness so profound, emotion stings at your eyes again. When you sit up, you survey the mess around you. Your nightgown, robe, and panties along with Joel’s sweatpants are still splayed mindlessly across the room.

And yet, it feels so empty without him.

You don’t sit long, swiftly flopping back against the pillows. This time, you bury your face in the one he had been occupying. Breathing deeply through your nose until your throat is stinging and tears grace your cheeks. You are unable to pinpoint the catalyst for your crying, something you think you have done more in the last three months than your entire life. 

At first, there is a sense of catharsis: the lingering thrill of the evening's endeavors have you on a staggering high. Imprinted on your mind is the look in his eyes just before he kissed you, the skim of his fingertips against your skin, and how attentive he was to your every need. You had never before experienced a man intimately the way you did Joel Miller, and now that you’ve had him, you are not sure you will be able to let him go. Which ultimately leads you into the next misfortune —

How is any of this supposed to work? Sure, Joel has been more than accommodating to you during your time within his walls, but that does not mean he plans on keeping you around forever. 

“You have no idea how long I’ve wanted you like this, darlin.’” 

His words are a never ending echo, a sliver of hope. What good would dwelling on any of the uncertainty do now when you could not even speak with him? Joel may be many things, but he has never been unfair with you. Regardless of his feelings towards your predicament, he would surely offer you a conversation. At least that is what you convince yourself of, forcing yourself up and out of the bed with one last deep inhale of his pillowcase. 

After garnering your things and wrapping your robe around yourself, you manage your way down the top floor corridor sight unseen. The clock in the hallway reads 8:23, and you wonder just how early Joel slipped away from you. Though, you try not to think about it too hard. The reminder of his absence, oblivious to where he is, sending a recurring pang of restlessness through your gut. You lock yourself safely in his bedroom, not a speck out of place from where you left it last night. However, there is one thing different. 

When you flip on the bathroom light, you gasp softly at the reflection in the mirror. Aside from the inevitable nest of hair and bags of sleep under your eyes, you are taken aback at the sight of yourself. Flushed cheeks and swollen lips, your eyes study the discernable welts littering your neck and outline of your collarbone. Most of them are a faint sort of pink tone, but a few splotch in deep hues of purple and blue. You lift an unsteady hand to run the tips of your finger over a particularly dark spot at the base of your throat, wincing ever so slightly at the tenderness. You had not even realized while it was happening how carnal your desires manifested, the marks left behind an elongated reminder, sparking vivid memories of the night prior. 

You will cherish every one of them until he returns. 

There is a newfound confidence to the way you carry yourself that morning. So much so that after your shower, you make a beeline for Joel’s closet, finding one of his sweaters that will best cover your chest and neck to adorn for the day. Warm and gray, you relish in the way it engulfs you, flooded by his aroma. The only drug that could curb your fraying nerves. You pick a pair of your own sweatpants, taking your time to comb through your damp hair and braiding it out of your face before you descend the stairs. You have no plans to leave the estate anytime soon, but as the evening's recollection flows back to you, you do recall the intended presence of another that just may help you get more answers to Joel’s whereabouts. 

If there is one place you can count on finding Tommy Miller at this time of morning, it is in the kitchen with a plate full of food. 

When you reach the first floor, rounding the corner from the hallway into the kitchen, you bite back the smirk on your face to find your assumptions correct. Peering up from the counter with a mouthful of sausage, you are gifted with a cheeky grin from the younger Miller brother. 

“Well, well, well,” Tommy tsks after swallowing, swiveling in the barstool at the countertop to face you. “Look who finally decided to wake the hell up.” 

You roll your eyes at his pestering, but contentedly walk towards him and accept his grizzly embrace. There is a comfort in Tommy Miller. Different than that of Joel, but soothing nonetheless. When he pulls away from you, you notice the minor shift in his eyes, an eruption of fragility. 

“How you holdin’ up?” The question is vague and sincere, but you know it is in reference to one thing and one thing only. The last time you saw Tommy in person had been the evening of the charity event, when he showed up to your now sold condo just before Joel arrived with the news of your father. 

You offer him a shrug, wrapping your arms around yourself and teetering from one foot to the other. “I’ve…I’ve been good, yeah. Doing good.” You nod along with your words, wondering just who you are trying to convince. “I haven’t really, uh, gotten out much since everything but—” another shrug. Useless, useless girl. “I’m hoping that can change sooner rather than later.” 

Tommy takes another bite of his food, gesturing at you with his fork. “You take all the time you need to regroup, ya hear me?” He raises his brows at you, displaying earnestness. You know he means well, everyone in the group who has taken the time to acknowledge your grief does. But it does little to reduce the ever growing shame of being incapable of taking care of yourself. 

Your eyes flit carefully around the room then. It is a rare occurance to have the common spaces alone with one of the Miller brothers. Normally, a lower rank of man would be present, or the grounds chef preparing their next meal, other hired workers serving an obscene amount of whiskey or cigarettes whenever necessary. Cleaning crews. Deliveries. A place of this size takes careful attention to detail. You hardly left the upper levels without imperative cause, but today, you decide it is best to take advantage of the silence. 

You round the counter, standing in front of Tommy who has wasted no time diving back into his breakfast, trying your best to be inconspicuous. “Did, um—” you clear your throat, tapping your fingertips against the granite countertops. “Did Joel mention when he may be back?” 

The way Tommy looks at you then has your stomach flipping and warmth pooling in your cheeks. At first, he is merely peering up at you through hooded eyes, chewing slowly as he deciphers the curiosity on your face. But then, you notice the way his gaze travels over your torso, and you have to bite hard on the inside of your cheek to avoid a reaction. It’s not like bringing Joel into conversation is anything new, but you know Tommy is no fool. He knows you know he’s no fool. You both know that is not your sweatshirt. Please, God, let this neckline be high enough. You’re too afraid to adjust the collar, knowing that if any of your special marks are peeking through, you would be feeding him a dead giveaway. 

“Said a few days,” Tommy finally picks up, wiping his mouth with his napkin. You release the breath you had been holding, thankful for whatever reason he gave himself to not question your unusually disheveled nature this morning. “But to be honest with you, I never really know what that means.” 

Neither do you. All you have left to cling onto are his promises. 

But suddenly, a few days turns into a week. A week into two, and you are left without answers only to be drowning in more questions. The most unbearable part is the lack of information. Tommy remains readily available at the estate, and on the occasion you weasel your way into crossing his path, he only offers you the same, ambiguous answers: We’re looking into it. Don’t worry too much, honey. Why don’t you go get some rest, and I’ll check in later?

You resign yourself to the guest room most nights, unable to endure the constant reminders of him in the room you had been inhabiting for months. His room. Each day, your mind grows increasingly distraught, morbid scenarios playing out vividly, so much so that you think you may convince yourself he is already dead before you even have any concrete evidence to assume there is any truth to the idea. Stir crazy is an understatement. 

On day thirteen, you cannot even begin to decipher what time it is anymore. Your body perpetually curled into a ball at the center of the mattress, blank eyes staring mindlessly out the window. You had not left the room in days, and while Tommy attempts to be as attentive as possible, you get the idea he simply is not as suave in handling such fragility. Joel would know exactly what to do. Instead of prying, the younger Miller orders the rest of his men and staff to provide you with ample space, leaving your meals outside the doorway, sliding slips of paper under the door with any vital notices or information. They seldom come. 

And just when you think you may be able to impose yourself into some sort of slumber, the lack of sleep the weeks provided a detriment to your overall condition, the commotion begins outside your window. 

You startle to attention with a gasp, propping up from your half daze to pinpoint where the noise is coming from. First, it is an array of voices that begin as chatter and evolve into shouting. They are quickly accompanied by footsteps pattering down the front steps, followed by the sound of tires screeching against the gravel. Your heart sinks into your stomach. 

You cannot think, cannot breathe as you scramble from the confines of the sheets, senselessly dragging on whatever articles of clothing are splayed around you in the room to give yourself some sort of modesty as you hurdle towards the window. You are unable to categorize every thought, every worry that plagues you as you anticipate the scene below. Your hands tremble as you fumble with the lock on the balcony, sliding the door open with fervor and padding eagerly towards the edge. Your eyes take a moment to adjust to the sudden influx of light, but then, you are watching Tommy bolt down the front steps towards the large black SUV in the drive. His own shouting mixes with that of the other men that litter out behind him as he slams his hands against the front bumper, ordering the driver to open the back doors. You hold your breath, unsure of who or what would step out, what condition they would be in, if it is even worth getting your hopes up. 

The tears of relief are instant upon Joel stepping out from the back passenger side. 

You brace yourself against the rail of the balcony, feeling the knot in your stomach grow into an overwhelming wave of nausea. As if you had been holding every bit of yourself inside only for it to tumble over in a mixture of contrasting anger and reprieve. He’s here. He’s alive. He’s in one piece, save for the busted lip and black eye you guarantee have a much deeper story than what was intended to be a “quick trip” to Texas.  

“I’m fine. I’m fine, okay?” You can make out his rushed reassurance upon the onslaught of Tommy’s questioning. A herd of men surrounding Joel Miller is not an uncommon sight, but to be sharing in their experience of alleviation is a newfound feeling. A sense of comradery, a sense of family that perhaps you had neglected since your fathers passing. 

And then it happens, drawn like magnets. He is peering up at the building, his eyes almost immediately finding you on the balcony. You feel the air suck out of you again, and as much as you want to defy his gaze, you cannot bring yourself to let it go. The wounds that coated your insides slowly begin their descent into absolution. You spot the all too familiar look of shame in his eyes, more focused on you than the rush of men around him impatient for answers. Your chin begins to wobble, and before you allow him any of  your tears, you rip yourself from the ledge, scurrying back into the security of the bedroom. 

You’re pacing rapidly, struggling to catch an even breathing pattern as you try to rationalize every emotion you have felt in the last two weeks. Of course, there isn't enough time. Not enough time to process the grief you had been reliving all over again at the thought of losing someone else so soon. Not enough time to process the disgust you inevitably discovered you felt after Joel fucked you and promised to return only to disappear for weeks. Not enough time to prepare yourself to face him, which comes sooner rather than later, and you wonder just how long you have been terrorizing the room with your uneven steps before the knock comes to the door. 

You freeze. You don’t speak. Instead, you eye the wooden door with a pained expression. There is no escaping who is beyond it, and you are not left guessing long. He waits three beats, and then, ever so slowly, opens the door with a soft creak. And when he does, he doesn’t move either. Firmly planted in the doorway, somber eyes looking at you with what you can only assume is reluctance and fear. 

Up close, the damage to his face looks worse than it did down below. You want so badly to run to him, soothe away the pain with your lips, demand he tell you who inflicted such suffering, and insist on retribution. Just like you know he would do for you. 

But you don’t. You can’t. The disappointment for his lack of consideration for you is far too grand to set aside. He must know you are awaiting his move, for he releases the door handle, taking in a large breath and clearing his throat. 

“Hi, darlin.’” 

You wonder how your face must look to him; jaw slightly slack in shock of such a mundane greeting, trembling lower lip, and brows pulled together in indiscrete distaste. Your hands shake at your sides as you fight the urge to rip your hair out. 

You wait until you're certain your voice won't completely falter before you speak. “Where the fuck have you been?” you rasp, wasting little time in pressing on fresh wounds. 

Joel’s eyes fall from you then, looking to the ground, full of guilt. He brings one of his hands up to run across his face, wincing when his thumbs grazes the sensitive skin around his left eye. He looks exhausted. 

“Listen, darlin’, I’m–” 

“No! Fuck, Joel–!” your voice raises an octave, feet carrying you forward in a strut of defiance until you are standing your ground just a few feet in front of him, hot tears brimming on your waterline. “I don’t wanna hear some – some pathetic excuse you think I need to hear because I’m too fragile!” There is a grit to your voice you are certain he has never heard, the reminisce of betrayal. “I want to know where the fuck you’ve been, what on earth you have been doing, and why you lied to me about how long it would be!” 

He takes it. Your shouting, your anger, he takes it, and he doesn’t shy away from it landing on him. He does not silence you in fear that someone may hear, or call you irrational. He does not interrupt you or condemn you for not giving him the chance to explain himself; you’re unsure whether or not you have the forgiveness to even allow him to explain himself. He licks his lips slowly, opening his mouth to speak before shutting it, eyes still unable to meet you. His silence is deafening, and you feel the familiar surge of panic in your gut. 

Your patience runs thin. “Joel!” you shout at him, and he has no choice but to snap his attention back up to you, nostrils flaring and lips pressed into a hardline. 

“Fuck,” he grits through his teeth, swinging an arm behind him to shut the door, this time a solid slam, before he is stalking towards you. You let him. Holding your ground as he towers over you. You scowl up at him, doing your best to keep your emotions at bay. “I wasn’t in Texas, alright? I was…I was just a few hours south.” 

Oh. 

You shake your head up at him, slowly. “You lied to me.” You are unable to decide which instinct is more prevalent, rage or betrayal. Perhaps they are two sides of the same coin. You had always known Joel Miller was a man of many trades, inevitably using tactics that were less than orthodox in nature to get what he wanted. Never once did you imagine you would be a part of that stratagem. 

“Yes,” he said carefully, like he is treading water. He doesn’t deny it, and gosh, does it sting. “Yes, I did.”

“Why?” 

It is the next logical question, but he still sighs like the weight of it is debilitating. “‘Cause…’cause I knew if I told’ya where I was goin’, you wouldn’t like it.” 

You scoff out an incredulous laugh, folding your arms over your chest. “Oh, so you thought a quick fuck and walking out on us for two weeks without any contact was a better alternative?” You regret the venom words as soon as you say them. They’re unfair, but then again, so was the way Joel left you. “You promised me. You looked me in the eyes and promised you would be back in just a few days. You knew how much I trusted you, how much I needed you to tell me the truth.” You could see his own retaliation brewing behind his eyes, and yet, nothing could have prepared you for the words that come next. 

“I got a lead on the man that killed your father.” 

That shut you up. Slowly, your arms fall from your chest, taut features lowering in bewilderment. Joel studies you for a moment, and you think he must see the calm wash over you because his own features soften knowingly. He takes another step towards you, and again, you let him, feeling the daze of his proximity you had been craving for weeks. You had always known there was a chance this moment would come, but now that it is here, you realize you had done very little to prepare for it. 

“I tracked him down for three days,” he begins to explain, thankful for him filling the silence as you are unable to find the right words. “Whoever he’s with noticed I was around, ‘cause they sent some little fucker to take me out.” He ran the tip of his tongue over his split lip then, indicating the injuries origin. 

Guilt. It consumes you. Of course, Joel notices the shift; he is more in tune to you than any person you have ever met. His hands are on you then, coming up to carefully cradle your cheeks. You know you should protest, push him and his hands off of you, but you cannot find the strength. Their warm embrace is a familiar luxury, and instead, you are peering up at him with melancholic eyes, feeling the weight of the lump in your throat grow again. 

“I thought,” you start softly, blinking up at him. “I thought maybe you didn't come back because you – you regretted —” You can’t bring yourself to finish your sentence. You feel foolish; a foolish little girl who is too caught up in the sorrows of her own life to see into the lives of others, projecting your own grief onto those around you. “— or something, something much worse—”

“No,” he cuts you off earnestly, and you sigh when he lets his own eyes shut and leans his forehead against yours. You try to match his breathing. Time and time again over the last three months, Joel has watched you come undone. Terrorized by a panic that could only be linked to loss. He knows your triggers, the tell-tale signs of anxiety he would try his best to soothe you from.

“No, darlin’. I’m right here. M’alright, all in one piece,” he reassures gently. That fear in your gut is replaced by relief, and you cannot help yourself from allowing your hands to reach for him, seeking a stronghold in the collar of his shirt. “And I don’t regret a thing.” You are inundated by the whole of him again, weeks of anguish replaced with unyielding warmth and familiarity. You want to bathe yourself in him, ask him for forgiveness for your harsh words, kiss away his pain, and equally thank and scold him for putting himself in harms way for you. Because that is what this lie really was, wasn’t it? A means of taking care of you, no matter how many promises he had to break to do so. Perhaps not all of them could be prioritized, and you would learn to live with it. You could live with that if it meant having Joel. 

You give yourself grace, hoping that he may absolve your behavior, and grant yourself the desire of feeling him. You rise to your toes, letting your own eyes fall closed, focusing on the mix of your breathing. But just as you are about to let yourself consume him and cross the threshold of the unspoken, you feel Joel grow rigid. His hands stop your face from inching any closer, peeling himself away from you, and with it, your eyes open, confusion replacing the momentary ease. 

“Darlin’, we – we can’t.” 

You’re not sure you hear him correctly. Loosening your grip on his shirt, you gawk up at him. “But – but you just said that –” 

“I know,” he cuts you off again, and when you find his eyes, you are taken aback to see the blatant reservation. Like he is struggling, fighting against giving into you in the way he did so easily just weeks prior. The shift hurdles into your chest with the weight of a thousand bricks. 

“I don’t understand,” you whisper, taking a step back from him. 

His hands flex mid air before dropping to his sides, and he is looking at you like the burden of his thoughts could crumble you into pieces. You aren’t sure how much more of that feeling you can take. He inhales another deep breath, pursing his lips. “Darlin,’ this–” he gestures in between the two of you. “This ain’t a good idea.” 

You know Joel is analytical. Calculated. Often never making a decision without an acute amount of thought. But fuck, you had no idea he could be so goddamn stupid. 

Now it’s your turn to stare at him, study him. For a moment, the realization of what he said did not register. You have half a mind to laugh right in his face; there was no way his mind could have changed so drastically without even seeing you for two weeks, right? No possibility that he would end whatever is blossoming in between the two of you, a festering flower that had craved the chance to bloom for years, without even providing a reason as to why. Other than the sudden decision that this isn’t a good idea. 

But then, you see it. The sincerity. The promise he seems to have already made to himself. Your face falls before you are furrowing your brows at him in disbelief, instinctively taking two more paces back to which he follows with one forward. 

“I promise you, that night really was one of the best—”

“No.” You raise a hand, stopping him. You wouldn’t entertain another one of his false promises. “You’ve…you’ve made yourself clear enough, Joel.” He wants you. Just not enough to fight for you. Not enough to problem solve when things get tough, and you would not be the girl who reduced herself to begging a man to stay, searching for an explanation to his decision that he did not even have the decency to give you in the first place. You wouldn't do it. 

Your whole life, you have lived on the outside of this circle. A circle that swore their lives to protect you while always keeping you at an arm's length — Joel had been the first one to let you straddle that threshold, inviting you into a deeper part of him and his world with uniquely open arms. He made you feel special. 

But perhaps you had misread his intentions, after all. Joel didn’t need to die to abandon you, he just had to be a fucking coward. The thought makes you sick.

You wrap your arms around yourself, hoping the pressure will soothe your ever growing nerves. You don’t look at him, tilting your detached gaze onto the floor just past his feet. “Can you just go, please?” you croak at him, and you are certain he can see the way your bottom lip returns to its tremble. You chew harshly on the inside of your bottom lip. No, he doesn’t get to see you cry this time. 

He doesn’t move at first, lingering between you and the door, a palpable tension filling the space. You hear him inhale as if he will grace you with even more disappointing words, but he spares you the blunder, muttering a barely audible alright before shuffling back the way he came. There wouldn’t be any more discussion about it, and just as quickly as you had felt a semblance of belonging, you are back to utter loneliness. 

You wait until the door latches shut and the sound of his footsteps are long gone before you force yourself to the edge of the bed, sitting down with your head hanging in your hands, panting heavy breaths. You can feel your heart pounding painfully fast against your chest, a wave of dizziness overtaking you and sending you back against the mattress. You yank the sheets over you, surrounding yourself in them, as if you could sink into them and never have to return to disheartening reality. You bury your face as far as it will go into the pillows before releasing the blood curdling scream from the back of your throat. 

This had not been how you imagined your reunion to go; dreams of being wrapped up in his strong, protective arms, peppered with desperate kisses, unafraid of who may see. You imagined he would have swept you away to his room, promising you he would tell you everything about his travels just as soon as he could have you to himself again. And you would have obliged. Happily. Content to be left in the dark of the details in his endeavors if it meant the opportunity to feel his skin against yours again. 

You know you aren’t thinking straight, but the sting of abandonment is too much to bear, eminently so that you are not thinking twice about grabbing one of the duffle bags from the closet and filling it to the brim with your necessary belongings. You are not sure you can handle another moment within these walls. Through sobs and sniffles, you wait until night falls over the grounds, bracing your ear against the door to listen to any signs of movement. And when you feel certain the majority of the estate's inhabitants are fast asleep, you make your descent down the stairs towards the back doors, giving one last look behind you before you escape into the daunting night. 

song inspo:

tag list: @casa-boiardi @dinsdjrn @scarletsloveletter @subconsciouscollapse @thetriumphantpanda@mommasnakesss@cupofjoel@tightjeansjavi@sinsofsummers @morning-star-joy@whichwitchwanda@prettyangelsthings @nostalxgic @aphterthoughtt @drewharrisonwriter @scroogles @ilovepedro@rosaliedepp@gintheginger @escapingjunex @lizlil@sanscas @fifia-writes@evylzzz @koshkaj-blog @mxtokko @pedrosaidsheispunk @dins-riduur-anthe @sakuralikestars @spookyprofessorknightflap @therealmrspascal

[morganaspendragonss]

holly's august extravaganza day 17: you and me (moving through this world as a two-man team)

for both my incredible birthday twin jenny (@laelipoo) and a little bit for myself! i hope you are having a wonderful, wonderful day and i wish you all the love in the world. i'm so glad we became friends and i cannot tell you how glad i am for our conversations 🥰🥰🥰

many, many, many thanks to jenny as well for helping me out with the plot!

ao3 | 3.1k | firefighter carlos, hurt/comfort, pining, developing relationship, major character injury (two of them 😌)

TK does not have a crush on the 126's latest hire.

Carlos Reyes: an Austin local, an incredible firefighter, and—objectively speaking—the most beautiful man TK has ever laid eyes on. Which is, in fact, the entire point; TK has eyes and, yes, he will use them to sneak a look or two when he’s suddenly sharing space with a man who looks like a Greek god.

That does not mean he has a crush, Paul.

(and, sure, maybe he does sometimes dream about how soft Carlos’s lips look and the soft blush he gets when he laughs and those little flecks of gold in his eyes, but he’s only human)

(how TK knows about the gold in Carlos’s eyes is none of anybody’s business)

The thing about Carlos Reyes is that he isn’t only stupidly hot; he’s also just plain nice. TK can’t even make up a flimsy excuse to keep his distance. Carlos is, quite literally, perfect.

He shares recipes and book recommendations with Paul, he spars with Marjan, he discusses superheroes with Mateo, and Judd has had nothing but good things to say since before Carlos even joined them. Apparently they’d worked together a lot before the explosion, when Carlos was with the 116, and he’s ‘one of the best damn firefighters’ Judd has ever seen.

He even makes time to hang with the paramedics, which...isn’t a new development, exactly. But it is recent, and TK is willing to bet they’d still be pretty divided if Tim hadn’t suddenly transferred back to Maryland and he hadn’t taken the leap to be a full paramedic.

Even after that… His friends were hardly going to abandon him after he switched, but Nancy had still only been semi-included at best. She’d called him out about it during their first week working together, but fixing it had been a slow process.

Until Carlos came along, that is. Excluding Judd, they all regularly hang out at his place now, and Nancy’s inclusion had never even been a question. Safe to say, Carlos has charmed everyone in the firehouse, including both captains, and the worst part is, he doesn’t seem to realise he’s doing it.

He’s perfect, from his freakishly toned body to his infuriatingly sweet personality to his incredible skills in the field, and TK does not have a crush, goddammit!

One morning about three weeks after Carlos’s arrival, TK is greeted in the firehouse by the sound of a long, beautiful laugh coming from the kitchen. Three weeks is an embarrassingly short amount of time to admit that he’s memorised everything about him, but he instantly recognises the noise as coming from Carlos, even if he can’t see him yet.

He saunters into the kitchen, where Carlos is standing with Paul, and leans up against the counter. “Hey.”

“Hey.” Carlos turns with a winning smile and holds out a steaming mug of coffee, clearly freshly made even though TK only got in two minutes ago.

He blinks. “How—” Then, taking in the slight pinkness to Carlos’s cheeks, “Are you seriously offering me your own coffee, Reyes?”

Carlos shrugs, forcing the mug into TK’s hands. “I only just made it so technically it belongs to anyone, and I can always make another,” he says. “Besides, you look like you could use it more than me.”

His grin has TK narrowing his eyes and stubbornly refusing to drink even though Carlos is right—he really, really needs it.

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d say that was an insult.”

“Who says you do know better?”

TK splutters, momentarily left speechless in the face of Carlos’s smile and the twinkle in those goddamn eyes. He turns to Paul for help, but Paul...has disappeared. Huh. TK honestly hadn't noticed him go.

He shakes his head and looks back to Carlos, only to be stunned silent again by the way his smile has softened into something else, something more.

TK’s heart skips a beat or two and he swallows, staring down into Carlos’s coffee. “Whatever, Reyes,” he mutters.

It was too late for a witty comeback anyway.

Carlos’s laugh follows him out of the kitchen, and TK wonders when, exactly, he let himself fall this far.

*

“Earth to TK? Hello?”

TK is rudely snapped back to reality by one Nancy Gillian’s hand waving violently in his face. He scowls at her, to which she responds with an eye roll.

“Stop drooling over your man and come help me with inventory.”

“I’m not drooling,” TK argues, following her over to the rig. “And he’s not my man.”

“Right,” Nancy drawls, folding her arms over her chest as she leans against the ambulance. “So you’re just going to deny that weird energy around you two that makes the rest of us feel like we’re creeping on something?”

“Exactly.” TK nods emphatically, then frowns. “Wait, what?”

Nancy casts her eyes heavenward. “You know,” she says, “you’re a lot of things, Strand, but I hadn’t pegged you for oblivious.”

TK’s next words are reflexive, said without thought for the consequences—the story of his life, really.

“I’m not oblivious!”

The grin spreading over Nancy’s face rams home just how much he’s fucked up with those three words. TK drops his head in his hands and groans, unable and unwilling to look Nancy in the eye.

“Not a word,” he warns, which Nancy appears to respect, for now. TK is well aware that there will be words—several of them—later, whether he wants them or not.

The thing is, he really isn’t oblivious. He knows perfectly well what Nancy is talking about and he has often fantasised about all the things he’d do to Carlos given half a chance. TK likes Carlos, way more than just in the physical sense, and he’s pretty sure that Carlos likes him right back. It would be so easy to start something between them and, god, TK wants to. He just… He can’t.

One year—that’s what he promised himself back in New York. One year on his own to sort his head out and figure out how he fits back into the world after the overdose. Granted, his sobriety anniversary is only a couple of months away now, but he refuses to give up on his promise, especially when he’s so close.

Maybe in a couple months, if Carlos hasn’t gotten bored of something that’s clearly going nowhere.

But not now.

*

“He did not ask me out!”

“He totally did, dude, and you know it. You want to say yes, I can tell.”

“No, I don’t. I—”

“Children,” Tommy interrupts from the back of the ambulance. They’re heading to a callout, and Nancy has not let up the entire way about something TK is certain never actually happened. “Either of you want to enlighten me on what the argument is about this time?”

“TK’s too chicken to go out with Carlos,” Nancy jumps in, before TK can stop her.

“I am not!” he protests. “Plus, he wasn’t asking me out, he said we should go over to his place for dinner sometime, which Carlos does all the time. So there.”

“Strand, you are not this dense,” Nancy snarks, probably rolling her eyes. “His exact words were, ‘You should come over sometime’.”

“We were all there! It was obviously the plural you.”

“Oh my god—”

“Alright!” Tommy sighs wearily. “Nancy, can we keep from provoking TK until we’re back at the firehouse and he’s no longer driving?”

“Ha!” TK exclaims, but Tommy’s not done.

“TK, if I weren’t your captain, I’d be telling you that Nancy is right and you should pull your head out of your ass before it’s too late, understand?”

Now it’s Nancy’s turn to be triumphant as TK struggles to form a coherent response. Thankfully, he’s saved from further torment by them finally pulling up at the scene—a warehouse where one of the workers had become trapped after parts of the upper level walkway had broken and fallen. Apparently, the falling metal had caused some of the machinery to malfunction, turning the call from simple to beyond complicated in a matter of minutes.

“TK, grab your turnout gear and your bag; I’m sending you in with them,” Tommy informs him as soon as they’re out of the rig. “Normally, we’d just talk the firefighters through it over radio, but given your training it’ll be quicker and safer for you to deal with our patient.”

TK grins; he’s missed the adrenaline rush of running into emergencies more than he can say. “Got it, Cap.”

“Maybe try and look a little less happy about a serious injury, too.”

“Copy that.”

*

The noise when they enter the warehouse is deafening, an ugly screeching cutting right through TK’s skull.

“Shouldn’t they have shut the machines off?” he shouts, fighting to be heard.

“Apparently they can’t,” Judd calls back. “Something wrong with the control panel, I don’t know exactly what.”

TK groans—just what they need. The sound is lost in the din, but Carlos still looks over and gives him a sympathetic grin, shrugging in a ‘what can you do’ motion. TK can’t help but grin back, the mere sight of Carlos easing the annoyance he feels and the headache already beginning to build behind his eyes.

Their patient, when they reach him, is pinned under a large, heavy-looking sheet of metal. He’s bleeding from a gash on his temple and his skin is worryingly pale, to the extent that TK can tell even from a distance. He jogs to the patient’s side and kneels down, pressing his fingers against his neck.

“Cap, I have a pulse,” he reports into his radio after a few seconds. “But he’s unconscious with a head wound, and I think there are probably injuries I can’t see yet. Possible spinal damage, but I can’t tell until we’ve got this metal off him.”

“Copy that,” Captain Vega says. “Get ready to run a line; he’s gonna need it as soon as he’s free.”

TK nods and moves to secure a c-collar around his neck. “We need to cut this thing off of him,” he says, addressing the team. “Quickly, but carefully.”

Judd steps forward, brandishing the saw. He hands TK a couple of spare turnouts and kneels on the patient’s other side. “Couple of you need to cover him, and yourselves.”

TK doesn’t even have to ask before Carlos appears next to him, taking one of the turnouts from him. He smiles gratefully before arranging himself to provide maximum protection to all three of them as Judd starts working on the metal. The vibrations from the saw are unpleasant, and TK dreads to think what effect it’s having on the already unstable machinery, but it’s the only option they have to get their patient free.

Fortunately, everything seems to go off without a hitch, and soon the team are able to remove the metal. TK immediately gets to work, feeling for any damage. As he suspected, there’s a pretty large gash on the man’s leg which is bleeding badly, though thankfully it seems to have missed any arteries. He also seems to have a broken wrist, but he should heal.

TK quickly wraps his leg, then gets Carlos and Judd to help move him onto the spine board. It feels like, for once, the call has gone as smoothly as possible, and TK allows himself a breath of relief as they prep to get the guy outside to the ambulance.

Naturally, that’s when everything goes to hell.

The machine closest to them lets out a threatening groan and shudders before there’s a loud roar and it explodes. On instinct, TK folds himself over the patient as shrapnel rains down on them, and he sees Carlos doing the same in his periphery.

The downpour seems to last forever, but eventually it slows and comes to a stop. TK cautiously lifts his head, his heart pounding, and sags in relief as it seems that the worst is over.

They need to get out of here, now.

He stands, a brief stab of pain running through his back—probably because of his awkward position over the patient—and turns to Carlos, reaching to offer him a hand up.

Only to see Carlos’s face tight with agony, and then the cause—a jagged piece of shrapnel running right through his hand.

“Carlos,” TK breathes, horrified. Carlos looks up at him, his breathing carefully measured and his eyes wide, and TK drops back to his knees, reaching out for him. “It’s okay, I’ve got you, don’t worry.”

Carlos swallows and nods, his eyes squeezing tight. TK’s heart rate skyrockets, and he’s barely able to keep his cool as he signals to the others to get their first patient out of the warehouse.

“Cap, the team are bringing him out, but we have a problem.”

“Talk to me, Strand, what’s going on?”

“It—It’s Carlos.” TK breathes out shakily and takes a moment to steady himself before continuing, “It’s not serious, but some of the machinery broke apart and some shrapnel impaled his hand. I’ve got to stabilise the shard before we come out to you.”

“Alright, but hurry. I don’t want you guys in there for longer than necessary.”

“Copy.”

Stabilising the shrapnel with rolls of gauze and wrapping Carlos’s hand should be a matter of course—it’s an easy process that TK could probably do in his sleep. But this is Carlos, so his damn hands won’t stop shaking and he almost fumbles and drops his supplies.

He manages though, and soon he’s helping Carlos up, instructing him to hold his injured hand above his heart. Carlos sends him a wobbly smile, which ends up turning out to be more of a grimace, but it’s a comfort nonetheless. Things could have gone so much worse today; TK could have even lost him, and he would have never been able to—

But that’s not important. Carlos is okay, or he will be, and they still have plenty of time to figure out whatever this is between them.

Everything will be okay.

TK’s back and side twinge again as they make their way out, but he brushes it off, too focused on getting Carlos to the hospital as fast as possible. Tommy shakes her head as they make their way over, her eyebrows raised despite the concern clearly in her expression.

“Never a peaceful moment with you, Strand, is it?” she asks dryly, hissing as she inspects Carlos’s wound.

“In my defence, Cap,” he says, more at ease now that they’re safe, “it’s not me who’s injured this time.”

Tommy hums, then directs Carlos into the back of the rig, jumping in after him. “Get back here, TK. Nancy’s driving.”

She has a teasing look in her eyes that instantly makes TK suspicious, but he moves to comply, shrugging off his turnout coat as he does. The movement hurts, which is weird, but he thinks nothing of it.

At least, until Tommy’s eyes go wide and she stands from her seat, holding her hands out towards him. “TK, do not move,” she instructs, her eyes firmly fixed on his right side.

TK frowns, then follows her gaze down, and— Oh.

His grey undershirt is stained with blood, and it’s difficult to miss the large piece of metal sticking out of his side. He has no idea how he missed it, but now that he knows, the pain slams into him full force, causing him to stagger.

“Oh,” he gasps, eloquently.

Then, his legs buckle and the world goes black.

*

TK wakes up to a steady beeping sound, which only exacerbates his pounding headache. He groans, scrunching his face up, before slowly peeling his eyes open, almost slamming them shut again after getting an eyeful of obnoxiously bright fluorescents.

“You’re awake,” a voice says, sounding surprised, then the lights suddenly dim, the room lit by the gentle glow of a lamp. TK sighs in relief and shifts to look at his saviour.

It’s Carlos.

“You… You’re here,” TK states, confused. His gaze drifts down Carlos’s body and lands on the white bandages around his hand, the memories of the warehouse suddenly hitting him all at once. “Shit, you— How are you?”

Carlos shakes his head and comes to sit in the chair by TK’s bed. “I can’t believe you’re the one asking me that.”

“I’m a paramedic, it’s my job.”

“Not when you’re the one in the hospital bed,” Carlos counters, sighing. “If you must know, I’m fine. They gave me some pretty good drugs, so…” He shrugs, and TK can’t help but laugh, which proves to be a very bad idea.

His side lights up, an unnecessary reminder that TK is very much not on the good drugs, and he moans softly, slowly settling back in the bed. “I hate you,” he mumbles, eyes closed.

“You love me,” Carlos says, and TK’s heart seizes in his chest.

The silence after his words is deafening, so TK forces himself to crack his eyes open enough to look at him. Carlos is frozen in his chair, biting his lip hard, and he looks like he either wants to bolt or be swallowed by the earth.

TK thinks he should probably be feeling the same. They’ve been dancing around this issue for weeks now, and he’d thought he had it under control. That he could last that little bit longer until his one year was up; that he could ignore these feelings that have been steadily growing since he first laid eyes on Carlos.

It was a hopeless endeavour; he recognises that now. TK remembers the fear he felt when Carlos was injured back at the warehouse, the desperation for him to be better, and now with his own injury…

He could have lost this chance before he ever got it, and TK isn’t about to let it slip through his fingers now. He reaches out and takes Carlos’s good hand, startling him into meeting TK’s eyes.

“Yeah,” TK whispers, just loud enough for Carlos to hear him. “I think I do.”

The smile Carlos gives him lights up the room, and he doesn’t waste any time in leaning down to kiss TK. And it’s… It’s everything TK had hoped and imagined it would be and more. It’s soft and sweet and gentle and perfect, and he never wants it to end.

But end it does, though Carlos doesn’t go far. TK smiles at him, squeezing his hand with all the strength he can muster.

“That’s a yes, by the way,” he says.

Carlos frowns. “What?”

TK’s smile widens and he flicks his eyebrows at Carlos. “To dinner. Or were you not asking me out after all?”

Carlos huffs a laugh, and the look in his eyes when they lock back onto TK’s melts his heart and makes his entire chest ache. “Does Friday work for you?”

He nods, tugging Carlos down for another kiss. “It’s a date.”

[mickmarstookmyheart]

More Espresso, Less Despresso

Part: 2/?

Pairing: Mick Mars X Reader

Summary: Mick tells you the truth about his job and you meet the band in their natural habitat.

Many days have passed, many cups of coffee were consumed, and fewer books were read as you have always had a company at the café. But you didn't mind. Mick was your best friend there, well, the only one, though you didn't even search for others.

"So, Mick, what are your plans for the next week?" You asked walking next to him in the park. Your scarf half covering your face which you were grateful for since you could feel the cold in your bones.

"Well..." This was the moment. This was the perfect timing to tell you that he was a musician. A guitarist who traveled from stadium to the other and never settled down for more than a few days. A rockstar whom chicks wanted but not in the way Mick would love to. "There is something I need to tell you, (Y/N)." He shoved his hands in his pockets.

"Then, I will listen." You said glancing at him.

"Come, let's sit down." He gestured toward the bench nearby and you both sat down on the rather chilly bench. "So, I don't know how to say it."

"Honestly. What you truly think. Just say it." You placed your hand on his shoulder.

"I'm happy. I'm happy that I finally find someone with who I can talk, share my thoughts, and have a decent conversation. I would go to the café and spend time together for eternity but unfortunately, it's impossible." He sighed. "I'm a rockstar, (Y/N), and the band goes on the next stop tomorrow. I'm so sorry."

You shook your head and chuckled. "So, this was the reason you were so nervous about it? Come on, Mick. I've always known that you are an artist. You talk about music like I talk about books; with so much passion." You turned to him to be able to look in his eyes.

"What? Are you telling me that you knew from the beginning?" He asked arching a brow making you giggle.

"Yes, Sherlock. For fucks sake, have you looked in the mirror? Long black hair, leather jacket and pants, the way your fingers drum to the beat, and an unbelievable wide knowledge of music." You were hoping deep down that he wasn't a big star. You hid your disappointment and tried to cheer him as he was feeling blue and you just couldn't bear it. Seeing him like this just broke your heart, thus you behaved as if everything was cool, but it wasn't.

"Alright, Watson. I'm impressed." He snickered. He couldn't believe you paid so much attention to him, he was sure he didn't deserve it. After all the wrong decisions he made, all the wrong things he did, it seemed a miracle to have a good friend like you. "Then, you are not mad, right?"

"Of course not, you silly. Though I would've appreciated it to tell me, I thought it was your business. You would've told me at the right time." You were playing with the end of your scarf. You felt your heart ached, tears desperately wanted to come but you didn't let them. You needed to keep your happiness for him because if he would see you like a wreck, he wouldn't be able to leave you there without feeling guilty.

"I wanted to, truly, but I was afraid...I was scared that you would run away." He glanced up and tried to scan every detail of your face so later when he needed he would be able to recall it.

"Why would I do that? Believe it or not, I also like rock music. And the fact that I read books doesn't mean that I'm pure as a unicorn or something. I read books during the day and I'm a serial killer at the night. This is a good glamour you know." You said with the most serious face could.

"What?" Mick's eyes widened. He looked he believed the whole thing. It looked like you could lie pretty well.

"Why is it so hard to believe?" You huffed crossing your arms to make your story more believable.

"I don't know, maybe that the shine in your eyes or your calm temper." You couldn't hold it back anymore and you burst into laughter. Tears running down your cheek but this time from happiness. He was the reason for both your sadness and happiness. "Why are you laughing now? Oh, you liar..." He snapped playfully but then laughed along with you. After you could properly breathe again and calmed down you rose from the bench and kept walking.

"And how long will the tour be?" You asked, already feeling a knot in your stomach. You didn't want to lose him, you just got him.

"Months. Too much if you ask me. I don't know how I will bear my bandmates' stupidity. I will lose my sense if I can't talk with you." He said making you blush.

"I'm sure there are others who are a bit smarter than your friends." You shrugged. You hated the idea that he finds someone special. Someone with the same mind, taste, and thinking. You wanted to be the only one, even if it felt selfish.

"No, I don't think so." He snickered shaking his head. "You are my soulmate, (Y/N) and no one can replace you." He bumped into you playfully. You gasped internally. He spoke like he was reading your mind and it was creepy. Maybe, he was truly your soulmate. "By the way, the guys keep nagging me where I am all day, and since now you know about them...would you like to meet them? Also, I will understand if you don't want to." He rubbed the back of his head thinking it wasn't really a good idea after all.

"Hell yes. It would be a pleasure." You smiled and tugged a lock of hair behind your ear.

∆

"You can still run away. There is still a chance to have a better life without meeting those bastards. You wouldn't miss a thing."

"Mick, calm down. I totally want this." You were standing in front of the studio's entrance.

"Then don't blame me later." He murmured and opened the door for you. You stepped in and as you turned in the corner you just had to follow the voices. If you had to name the voices you would've called it chaos. Screaming, glass breaking. You took a deep breath and opened the door to see the chaos. You froze and were shocked from the sight. One of them was bumping his head on the drums, the other was doing drugs and the third man was throwing knives on the wall. Mick stood behind you and grabbed your wrist. "Let's go, (Y/N). They are not in their best shape."

"But we walked so damn much. Too much for nothing." You sighed.

"Alright then. Go grab something to eat or drink and I will scold them down until you come back, okay?"

"Deal." You nodded and headed towards the bistro next to the studio while Mick felt the urge to beat the shit out of his bandmates. While reading the menu you were wondering how he is able to get through the tours while keeping his sanity. Then pictures flooded your mind. Memories you desperately wanted to forget but it seemed they became core memories. You had experiences with both drugs and alcohol and you felt their effect on your own skin, though you weren't the one who consumed them. You thought if you move from that place, maybe the memories will fade.

"Ma'am, what can I get you?" A waitress asked standing behind the counter.

"Five from that one." You pointed at the table above her head and bit after she handed you the bag with your order. When you got back the building where you left the band, you grabbed the door handle it didn't turn. "Are you fucking kidding me?" You cursed still trying to open the door before kicking in it angrily.

"Hey, what that poor door did to you?" A man inquired searching in his pockets.

"Sorry. It just doesn't open and I really would like to go in." You said tilting your head toward the entrance.

"Then, try with this one." He winked and handed you the key which you took gladly and opened the door with it. "Thanks, man!"

"It's nothing, kid. By the way, who are you exactly and why do you want to go in?" He asked while he held the door for you letting you go first. You thanked with a nod and made your way to the studio.

"I'm (Y/N). Umm, Mick brought me here..." You raised a brow.

"Wait. The (Y/N)?" His eyes were wide and he was pointing at you.

"Yeah, I guess." You murmured now having a clue.

"Well then nice to finally meet you. I thought we would never meet you." He gave you the biggest smile you ever saw.

"Mick told you about me?" You were in shock. You didn't assume he told about you. Not that you minded. It felt good that you were important to him.

"He couldn't shut his mouth for a second! By the way, I'm Doc. Their manager." He held his hand to shake it.

"It's a pleasure." You smiled and opened the door cautiously. You didn't know what to expect after what you had seen earlier, but it wasn't this. All of them were reading a magazine?! And were sitting with crossed legs on the sofa.

"What the..." Doc peeked over your shoulder as you didn't move an inch. His mouth dropped and was speechless, which you could say about yourself, too. "Are you okay, guys?"

"Yeah, Doc, thanks for asking." The blondie said not glancing up from the magazine he was reading.

"Mick...what exactly did you do them?" You inquired in confusion, considering, the room was hell a few minutes earlier.

"Nothing." He simply said closing the magazine, placing it on the coffee table, and walked over to you. He stood beside you and cleared his throat. "Guys, this is (Y/N). (Y/N) this is Vince, Tommy, and Nikki." They smiled and nodded when they heard their names. "And I see you have already met with Doc."

"Nice to meet you guys." You waved your hand. "Umm, I brought some food..for you if you are interested..." You muttered swinging the bag in front of you. Tommy literally jumped up from the couch and took the bag from your hand opening and smelling it.

"It smells rad, dude." He yelled picking one of the boxes.

"I already love you, (Y/N)." Vince rose from the couch stealing the bag from the drummer.

After everyone chose their boxes, you all find a place to sit and were consuming the food in silence. You were sitting on the arm of the sofa balancing yourself. You leaned to Mick whispering in his ear.

"Seriously, what did you do?" You asked gesturing toward the guys.

"I have my own ways." He smirked making you curious as hell.∆

Taglist: @leatherandheels @littlemisscare-all @safari-karrot @crazyrockrlady 💕💕

(feel free to message me or comment if you wanted to be tagged 💕)

[justimagineitblog]

“You Used To Love Me” Michael Gray Fan Fiction - Chapter 6

A/N: hehehe here we gooo... chapter six!!!

Just a side note - I don’t want this Chapter to encourage women fighting or blaming the other woman for a mans behaviour - I believe in women sticking together! However, this chapter does contain some toxic female behaviour that we as humans fall into from time to time, that I do not condone ! 

I hope you enjoy my loves xx

I fiddle with my hands, bouncing my leg nervously in my chair as we wait for Michael and Gina to arrive to the meeting. They have no idea I’m going to be here. And honestly, I kind of wish I wasn’t here right now either. Tommy, Arthur and Polly all sit around the table as well, trying also act like they’re not nervous.

I couldn’t care less about what Gina might say. Or do. I just can’t stand to see Michael.

But before I have the opportunity to completely back out of this, the door knob turns and the both of them enter through the door. I jolt with shock in my seat, as my nerves are on high alert. Anything would set me off right now. They stall in the hall way first, as Michael takes off Gina’s coat. As I notice my heart rate elevating, I also notice that I’m staring at them.

God what do I do? Where am I supposed to look?

Michael walks into the room first before Gina, taking his hat of and looks up to greet everyone. His eyes shoot to me immediately. They widen. He stops dead in his tracks, like he’s just run into an invisible wall. He looks so pale that I could have sworn I physically saw the blood drain from his face. Hell, I’m sure mine’s not much different.

I will never get used to seeing him like this. Seeing us like this. Together in a room and not being greeting each other with a smile and a kiss, but instead with silent stares and tension that you could cut with a knife. This isn’t us. This will never be normal. No matter how much I am around him, this will always feel completely wrong. I have to face it; I feel completely wrong being in this world without him by my side.

I’m distracted from my thoughts when from behind the collar of his shirt I see him swallow, hard.

That is not like Michael. I know him. No matter how much he may feel like a stranger now, I still know him inside and out. And I know he has a poker face to kill. Under pressure, Michael is cold. Calm. Collected. He has to be in this business. But right now, I can see every single micro expression.

Why would he be acting like this if he hates me? If he truly doesn’t care for me anymore, if he doesn’t love me, then how come every time he see’s me he looks like a nervous school boy?

What is going on in your head, Michael Gray?

The painful silence of the room is bursted like a bubble when Gina walks into the room behind Michael.

And just like her husband, she freezes in her tracks. But unlike him, she doesn’t stand there speechless. Her face distorts into a scowl immediately as she eyes me up and down with disgust.

“What is she doing here?” she asks, not to dissimilar from a snake hissing.

I scoff, shaking my head. You’ve gotta hand it to her, she’s got some fucking balls. More balls than Michael.

“Trust me, I’m not thrilled about it either sweetheart” I reply, forcing a tight smile at her.

“Take a seat, Gina” Polly warns Gina, her voice harsh.

She keeps her eyes glued on me like a hawk, as Michael quickly launches into action and pulls out a chair for her and him to sit down at the table.

“Isabelle” Tommy begins, emphasising my name “Is here to work for us again, for the family” he emphasises “since thats what she is”

Gina’s mouth shoots open immediately, ready to interject. As if she has the right to speak up in a family meeting anyway. She’s hardly family. A ring doesn’t make you family.

“I’m not done,” Tommy growls, and Gina blinks rapidly. Not used to being told no, I assume.

“I don’t give a damn what anyone here thinks about this decision. I don’t give a damn about whatever has gone on here. If you’re as smart a business man as you want us to treat you as Michael, than I would think you can look past you and your wifes own personal… demands… to see that this is what the business needs. This isn’t about what you need. This is about the business” Tommy stops, letting it soak in “And she’s the best at what she does. The best we’ve ever had working for Shelby Limited. You can’t deny that, Michael. And we need her back. We need you back, Izzy”

There’s silence. Not that I expected Gina and Michael to be jumping for joy. I don’t dare look at Michael. I don’t want to see the look on his face. So I keep my eyes glued to the table.

“Now if anyone wants to speak, then speak. Gina, I’m sure you have something to say” Tommy scoffs as he sticks a cigarette in his mouth “Whatever you have to say, get it of your chest now. Because from this point forward, I won’t hear a word of it”

Tommy looks over at me, signalling me to speak. I shake my head at Tommy. He knows I have nothing to say to Michael. To Gina. To anyone.

I wait nervously as Tommy nods, turning his attention to Michael. But Michael doesn’t speak either.

When no one speaks, a baffled Gina begins to scoff and huff. Upset that she’s not getting her way I suppose. What do they call that? A tantrum?

“So that’s it? We don’t get to vote on this? Isn’t that what happens at these family meetings” She throws her hands up in the air before bringing them back down to slap the table.

I look up ever so slightly to see Tommy shaking his head, rubbing it in irritation at Gina squawking at him in her American accent.

To my left I spot Arthur, who is stifling a laugh as he takes a swig of his drink. A woman like Gina isn’t common around here- the way she carries on like it’s her god given right-  I’m sure Arthur thinks the circus has come to town.

“This isn’t a voting matter” Tommy says, his voice firm “This is final”

But of course, Gina won’t take no for an answer. She turns her fit of anger towards Michael.

“Michael?” She begins, her voice high and shrill as she glares at him in bewilderment “Baby you’re not going to say anything? You know how this… how she… makes me feel” She hisses in his ear.

You’ve got yourself in trouble here haven’t you, Michael.

It’s a double edged sword, this is. And he knows it. I see him staring, paralysed, in the corner of my eyes. If he does stand up for Gina everyone in this room will think he’s completely brainwashed this time, they will never take his word about the business. But if he doesn’t speak up, he’s going to feel Gina’s wrath and it’s not pretty. And who knows what consequences that might hold for everyone. She already seems to have Michael strung up like her very own puppet. I’m betting he would do anything to appease an angry Gina. Maybe that’s how he got into this mess in the first place. One big old tantrum and the only way to suffice her rage was marriage? Of course I don’t know. But it doesn’t seem that unrealistic now that I’m learning more about this wicked woman he is married to.

Her demands at Michael drone on, and I can see the tension from Arthur, Polly and Tommy growing rapidly.

Tommy is about to explode. Jaw clenched tight, he glares at Michael, waiting impatiently for him to pull Gina back into line. Polly looks like she’s about to take a hand across Gina’s face.  If this gets out of control, the fall out would be horrific. Gina may force Michael to cut ties with the family completely. Never see us again.

Finally, I look at Michael, who I’m shocked to find is already staring at me. Eyes widened, panicked, and screaming. He looks desperate for someone to say something. Before he does.

“Gina” I shout suddenly, almost taken aback by my own voice. But I remain steady, strong. I’ve opened my mouth now. I cannot back down. This needs to stop. Everyone’s heads shoot towards me, including Gina’s. She stares at me. Eyes wide open. Lips pursed tightly. I realise we’ve actually never spoken before. If I’m lucky this will be one of very few times I have to converse with such a horrid woman. I can feel Michael’s eyes burning into my like hot beams. I can’t imagine the back flips his stomach is doing waiting for what I might say. Actually, I can imagine. That’s exactly how he made me feel the day he came to visit me in my apartment. Good. I hope it hurts just as badly as it did for me. I turn in my seat, facing Gina head on.

“You want to live here, right? In your big house in the country? With your husband? Lot’s of kids? Well I promise you, that I will make this company enough money for you to buy your precious mansion 5 times over. Because despite your conspiracy, I have no desire to ruin your marriage. So just let me do my job, and I’ll stay out of your way while I do it. Deal?”

“Like I would take your word” she grills me “I know what your agenda is here”

I momentarily flicker my eyes towards Michael, and watch his move uncomfortably in his seat. Squirming.

“Actually my agenda was to be anywhere but here. I was abiding by you and your husbands demands. Gladly. But here we are”

“So you’re telling me I have to believe you’re just here to work? Seriously?”

“What do you think I have to gain from this, Gina?”

“Everything” she replies, and that word guts me. Everything. I thought I had everything. But my everything is hers now.

“I already lost that” I say, shaking my head. Without needing specifics, she know’s exactly what I’m talking about. I lost my everything to her.

Gina stares at me, her jaw clenching like she has many words she would like to say to me right now, but she never speaks.

Because she knows I’m right. And if she is as smart as she is cunning and calculating, then she is realising that her mouth should stay shut.

She folds her arms across her chest, then sits back in her seat.

“Michael? Anything to add?” Tommy pushes him to speak.

“It’s whats best for the business” his voice is low and gruff.

Gina’s head shoots towards him, and her face twists into a look I’ve never seen before. She is absolutely fuming.

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me” She exclaims “Are you serious right now Michael?”

He doesn’t dare reply.

“I think he’s serious, sweetheart” Polly says, when Michael doesn’t speak.

With a huff she stands abruptly, shoving her chair back.

“Don’t you see it? She is jealous! She’s here to worm her way in between us and ruin our marriage-“

“Gina that is enough!” Michael’s voice booms through the room as he shouts at his wife.

Michael never raises his voice. He certainly never raised it at me. Not even once. And rarely at anyone else. He always said he thought people only yelled to overcompensate. That fact that she pushed him to that point, speaks volumes. But his yelling isn’t the only thing that shocks me. The realisation soon sets in that he just… defended me….

Everyone’s eyes are glued to Gina as her neck grows into a bright red, followed quickly by her cheeks blushing violently.

She spins on her heels rapidly, storming out of the room. We listen as she snatches her coat of the hanger and blazes out the front door, slamming it behind her with rage.

Michael rubs the back of his neck, his head hanging in defeat and embarrassment.

“Michael, I’m sorry-“ I breathe, feeling horrible. This is all my fault. I should never have come here.

He stands to leave, straightening his tie and his collar nervously before he looks over at me.

“No, I’m sorry Izzy” he shakes his head at me, his voice quiet. Our eyes lock, once again. He holds my gaze this time. He looks… tired. Completely exhausted. He leaves the room, and soon after we hear him leave through the front door.

I stare in his direction. Frozen. Why was he… defending me? Why was he going against Gina for my sake? And I’m terrified. Terrified of the consequences and punishment he will suffer from for doing so.

“Are you okay?” I hear Polly ask, and I nod my head, but I don’t mean it. I’m just in autopilot. I couldn’t be more confused. The way he looked at me… his face shrouded in shame, regret, exhaustion, defeat, sorrow, guilt. All of those and a million others that would take me hours to comb through and differentiate.

Now I know what they meant. Tommy, Polly and Arthur. When they talked about something not being quite right. About something hiding behind his eyes. That he is different with Gina…

Does Michael still have feelings for me? He used to. All of that love, that bond, cannot just disappear. Maybe I haven’t lost him. Not completely. Maybe my Michael is still there… But what is he hiding?

Does Michael still love me?

TAGLIST

@shadow-of-wonder

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@maiabiovillage

[the--blackdahlia]

It’s So Easy (And Other Lies) Chapter 16

Title: It’s So Easy (And Other Lies) Chapter 16

Summary: Stevie Adler likes Duff McKagan. She has for a while now, but she is convinced Duff doesn’t like her that way. Duff likes Stevie, but so does their new bandmate Axl Rose.

Chapter Warnings: Language, fluff, some big confessions

AN: Thank you for all the feedback!

Two Months Later

“Look at my little girl!” Deanna Adler said as she watched Stevie’s hair be done and the veil pinned into it. Stevie was looking in the mirror as the stylist pinned the flower crown veil into her blonde hair. It was Tommy’s suggestion that she do that, and honestly, she really liked it.

“Mom, stop,” Stevie laughed. She glanced over at Tommy, who was indeed getting his nails painted. Fingers and toes. “How you doing over there T-Bone?” Tommy had a big smile on his face as he looked over at the bride.

“I feel so pampered!” He laughed. “I like the color you chose Rocket Queen.”

“Rocket Queen?” Deanna asked, looking at her daughter with a raised eyebrow.

“Long story,” Stevie shook her head. “Do you think Duff’s gonna like it?” She looked over at her dress. It almost glowed in the sunlight coming in through the window.

“I think he’s going to like taking it off of you,” Tommy pointed out.

“Thomas!” Stevie shook her head. “Mom, ignore him. He’s an idiot.”

“But I’m your favorite idiot!” Tommy teased.

“Actually, I think her favorite idiot is Duff,” Deanna laughed.

“Mom! Not you too!” Stevie sighed.

“What? I joke around too,” Deanna shrugged. “God, you look so beautiful.” She smiled fondly at her daughter. “I had a feeling that McKagan boy was going to be your one the day you brought him to meet me. It was the 4th of July, wasn’t it?”

“Yes mom,” Stevie smiled. She looked over at Tommy, who has a questioning look on his face. “I brought him with us up to the observatory to watch the fireworks.”

“That’s so cute!” Tommy told her. “But how did you two meet? I don’t think you’ve ever told me this story.”

“Slash put an ad in the paper that we needed a bassist for our band Road Crew,” Stevie explained. “And he called and we agreed to meet at a restaurant. Because technically we weren’t old enough to get in the bars.”

“Not that that ever stopped you,” Deanna muttered. Stevie rolled her eyes.

“Anyway, Slash and I were waiting and thought he stood us up when this giant man walked in with a long coat and spiked, blue hair,” Stevie laughed. “I thought he was seven feet tall or something, because he was wearing those thick boots like you guys would wear. And he was so shy, but super sweet. We hit it off right away, and might have annoyed Slash with as much as we talked to each other. He moved in with Slash and I when were in a two bedroom hole, because he didn’t have anywhere else to stay, and eventually, we found a nice three bedroom. Well, nice by the strip standards.”

“Can’t be any worse than the place Nikki, Vince, and I shared,” Tommy told her. “That place had be be torn down by the time we were done with it.”

“Yeah it wasn’t quite that bad,” Stevie shook her head. “I might have snuck into a party there once.” Stevie winked at him.

“You did not?” Tommy laughed.

“She was, and still is, a wild child,” Deanna pointed out. Stevie shot a glare at her mom before turning her attention back to Tommy.

“Anyway, I think I fell in love with Duff at that 4th of July,” Stevie admitted. “And that year, he took me to Christmas at his house. And I barely had any money. And I made him this god awful braided bracelet that he won’t freaking take off.”

“He loves it,” Tommy pointed out. He had seen that bracelet. Duff never took it off for anything.

“Okay sweetie, I think you’re ready to get in your dress,” Deanna told her daughter. “Tommy, we’ll see you in a little while.”

“Oh, I don’t get to watch the Rocket Queen change?” Tommy asked, wiggling his eyebrows.

“Want me to get Nikki in here?” Stevie countered.

“No, I’ll behave,” Tommy sighed. Stevie smiled and followed her mom out the door.

“Seriously, why does he call you Rocket Queen?” Deanna asked.

“You really don’t want to know,” Stevie laughed. They headed to the main bridal room to get Stevie into her dress.

She had been unable to find one that she loved, so Vince and Mick pulled some strings to help her out. She had found a black dress she had liked, so they took the dress and her measurements to their wardrobe department at Elektra, and a few weeks later, a wet dress was delivered to the drummer. It was longer than the black one, which she had wanted, but it fit just as well as the black one had.

As Deanna helped zip her up, Stevie looked at herself in the mirror. She ran her hands over the dress.

“Do you think he’ll like it?” Stevie asked. 

“Who? Duff?” Deanna asked. Stevie nodded. “Sweetie, he’s not marrying you for the dress. He’s marrying you because he loves you.”

“What if he realizes he doesn’t love me after he marries me?” She asked softly.

“Not every marriage turns out like Michael Coletti and mine,” Deanna told her. “When I look at you two, I know it’s going to last. You’re going to be Mrs. McKagan for a long, long time.” Stevie smiled some.

“I’ll still use Stevie Adler as the stage name,” Stevie told her. “Duff and I already talked about that.”

“See, you’re already communicating,” Deanna smiled at her daughter. “That’s a good start.” 

****

“Dude, you’re getting married,” Slash laughed as him and Duff got their tuxes on. Izzy was already ready, sitting in a chair, watching as Axl got ready. “Even though, if you ask me, it’s just making it official, because you two have been married for years now.”

“I just can’t wait,” Duff had a smile on his face as he messed with his hair. “Do you guys think she’ll like the song?”

“You could burp her the alphabet and she’d love it,” Izzy pointed out. Duff and Slash both laughed. Nikki knocked on the door before coming in.

“What’s so funny?” Nikki asked. “Maybe the fact that you’re missing your bow tie?” Nikki held up the item and Duff looked in the mirror. Sure enough, he was missing his bow tie. “Should’ve had me be your best man. Slash is slacking.”

“I barely slept last night,” Slash shook his head. “I hung out with Stevie since Tommy’s her maid of honor.” Nikki shook his head and handed Duff his tie. “Speaking of that, I’m going to go check on her and see how she’s doing.” He slipped out as Vince and Mick came in, wanting to see how Duff looked all dressed up.

“Looking good man,” Vince laughed, not making eye contact with Izzy and Izzy was fine with it. They had gotten into a fight earlier in the year over something Vince’s wife had told Vince, and Izzy really didn’t want to bring it up again.

“I’ve never seen this many rock stars in tuxes before,” Mick shook his head with a chuckle. Vince walked over to Axl, who was finishing up getting ready.

“Always the bridesmaid, never the bride, right Rose?” He teased. Axl glared at him.

“I’m going to go grab a smoke before it starts,” He announced, walking out. Izzy sighed and turned to look out the window. Vince just shrugged.

“Must be in a mood or something,” Vince laughed. “He’ll miss out on the pre wedding shots.”

“Oh god, not that again,” Mick groaned. “I barely remember Tommy’s first marriage with the pre wedding shots.”

“We...did we do shots with Heather?” Vince looked at Nikki.

“No, I think he means that one he was married to for a month,” Nikki pointed out.

“Wait, what?” Vince asked. “You guys are pulling my leg, right?” Nikki and Mick just laughed, leaving Duff and Izzy to look at each other and shrug.

****

There was a knock on the door as Deanna and Stevie finished up getting ready. Stevie excepted it to be Tommy, trying to catch a peek of her in the nude, but when Deanna went to it, Slash was standing there.

“Is she decent?” Slash asked with a laugh, not that it really mattered if she wasn’t or not. Deanna smiled and opened the door for him to come in. Slash stopped when he saw Stevie. “Oh wow.”

“You’ve already seen me in it once,” Stevie laughed.

“Yeah but this is different,” He smiled at her, taking a step closer. He had been there when she got to try on the dress that the Motley boys had gotten for her. She looked beautiful then, she looked stunning now. “Duff’s gonna be speechless.”

“I’ll be right back,” Deanna told them, stepping out to go check on a few things. Stevie watched her leave and sighed some.

“Do you think he’ll really like it?” Stevie asked. She was so worried about what Duff was going to think when he saw her. She didn’t wear dresses often and she felt weird in it, which meant she probably looked weird too.

“If he doesn’t, I’m kicking his ass,” Slash laughed. He stood there, watching as she rechecked herself in the mirror again. “You know, you’re six months older than me, but I always saw you as my little sister.”

“Slash…” Stevie turned to look at her longtime friend.

“And I just want you to know that even though we’re not sharing a shoebox anymore, pulling our change to buy a couple cans of soup, you’ll always be my sister. And even when you’re living in Seattle, if you need me, I’ll be right there.”

“Slash, you’re gonna make my makeup run,” Stevie dabbed at her eyes. Slash pulled her to him and hugged her.

“Love you Stevie,” He told her.

“Love you too,” Stevie sniffled. Slash pulled back and smiled. Deanna came back then.

“Axl’s waiting out in the hallway for you,” Deanna reported with a smile on her face. “Izzy’s got the music ready to go.” They had decided that they wanted a small, intimate wedding. Her and Duff each had one person in their wedding party, and the only guests were Duff’s large family, Stevie’s mom, and Motley Crue. Stevie had told Duff that they always were performing for a crowd with Guns n’ Roses, that she didn’t want their wedding to feel like another concert. And he completely agreed with her. Axl was taking place of Stevie’s dad, and Izzy was in charge of the music. They had everyone that they wanted to be at the wedding there.

That being said, the reception was going to be at the Rainbow, and they had invited people to that party.

“Ready?” Slash asked Stevie. She smiled and nodded, making sure she had everything on.

“Very.” Slash smiled at her and held the door open for her and Deanna. Axl was waiting out in the hallway in a tux. He looked up as the three of them walked out.

“Hey Red,” Stevie laughed. “How do I look?”

“Amazing,” He told her, pushing off the wall to walk to her.

“I’ll see you out there sweetie,” Deanna told her daughter, kissing her cheek. Her and Slash headed towards the ceremony room, leaving Axl and Stevie in the hallway.

“You looked amazing,” Axl told her. “Duff’s a lucky guy.”

“You’re just saying that,” She laughed a little.

“Stevie, I…” Axl was going to confess it all to her. He was going to tell her he had been in love with her for awhile now. He was going to get it all off his chest before she walked down the aisle. But something stopped him. And that something was Tommy Lee.

“Hey dudes, it’s time,” He smiled. “You look good Rocket Queen!”

“Gee, thanks T-Bone,” Stevie laughed and shook her head. Tommy went bouncing down the hallway towards the hall. Stevie turned back to look at Axl. “What were you saying Red?”

“I was saying...let’s get you to your groom Popcorn.” He had recently started calling her Popcorn, since she bounced around like a piece of popcorn that was being cooked. He offered his arm to her, which she took.

“Think you can convince Tommy to start calling me that?” Stevie laughed. “He keeps calling me Rocket Queen.”

“I mean, you know that you and Duff aren’t exactly quiet, right?” Axl laughed a bit. Stevie was mortified. “Come on, your prince awaits you.”

Axl walked Stevie down the aisle. When Duff turned to see her, his breath was taken away. He had seen her in a dress before, but this was different. She looked stunning as she walked towards him. Izzy watched from where he was seated with the organ, his heart fluttering some. 

“I told you that you could pull off a flower crown,” Duff finally whispered when Axl gave Stevie to Duff. Stevie smiled at him, blushing softly.

The ceremony was beautiful, a combination of Jewish and Catholic aspects to cover both their upbringing. Everyone in attendance cheered when Stevie and Duff said their “I Do’s” and finally kissed. Duff couldn’t stop the smile that was on his face as he looked at his wife, cupping her face gently.

“I love you so much,” He told her as they headed back down the aisle, hand in hand. Axl watched them with hurt in his eyes.

“I love you too Duff,” Stevie waved to everyone as they headed towards the car that was going to take them over to the Rainbow. Duff kissed her deeply as they climbed in. Duff was driving, Stevie in the passenger seat.

“Come on Mrs. McKagan,” Duff smirked. “We have a party waiting for us.”

****

The Rainbow was full of excitement as the reception got started. There was music and food. A table was covered with presents from the various musicians, family, and friends who had been invited. Stevie and Duff danced together while everyone watched.

“You look so beautiful,” Duff told her as they moved around the dance floor. “But, I can’t wait until later. Because I think that dress will look amazing on our bedroom floor.”

“Oh, you think so?” She asked, looking up into his eyes. Duff smirked.

“I know so,” He leaned down and pressed a kiss to her lips.

While Stevie and Duff were dancing, Izzy took a deep breath and made his way over to Axl, who was sitting at a table, sipping a drink. Izzy stood at the table, clearing his throat, causing Axl to look up at him.

“What’s up?” Axl asked, trying to look anywhere but at the dance floor.

“Can we talk in private?” Izzy asked, shifting from one foot to the other. Axl risked a glance at Duff and Stevie before he nodded and followed the guitarist out of the man room into a hallway. Izzy was visibly nervous, and Axl could just stare.

“So, what is it?” Axl asked. Izzy took a deep breath.

“I know you’re upset about today,” Izzy told him. 

“Oh, c’mon Iz. I’m fine,” Axl shook his head.

“I know you’re just saying that Axl,” Izzy was getting more nervous.

“Okay, well what were you going to say?” Axl asked. “Just spit it out already.”

“I’m in love with you,” Izzy said bluntly. Axl laughed a bit.

“I know man. I love you too. You're like my brother.”

“No, I mean...I love you,” Izzy watched Axl’s face as he registered what was being said. Izzy took a step back, just in case Axl’s knee jerk reaction was to punch him.

“I...what?” Axl asked. “I mean, we’re both straight and…” Izzy shook his head. “Come on man, I’ve known you since we were kids. You’re straight.”

“No I’m not,” Izzy told him. “We grew up in fucking Republican country. A gay kid in the 70’s? I would’ve got the shit beat out of mean and strung up in downtown Lafayette.”

“What do you want me to do with this?” Axl asked.

“I...nothing.” Izzy shook his head. “I don’t know why I said anything.” He ducked back into the party, leaving Axl standing there, wondering what the hell just happened. It took him a moment to cipher through everything. Izzy was gay? And he liked Axl? He shook his head and headed back into the party, where the dance was coming to an end. He didn’t see Izzy anywhere, and maybe that was a good thing.

After the dance, they cut the cake. Everyone had food and drinks, and there was dancing going on. Stevie made her rounds, talking and laughing with people, when Nikki came up to her.

“Sorry guys, I’ve gotta steal the bride,” Nikki told the people she was talking to. Stevie frowned as he led her back towards the stage area.

“What’s going on?” she asked.

“Someone has a gift for you,” He told her, leading her to a chair centered in the middle of the cleared out dance floor. Stevie was confused as she sat down. Then she looked up at the stage and saw Duff, Izzy, and Slash standing there with acoustic guitars in hand. Axl stood in the back of the room, watching Izzy at a distance.

“Hey babe,” Duff smiled at Stevie. “I wanted to give this to you. We’ve been working on it for a bit and well, I hope it explains it all.” He nodded at Izzy and Slash. They started to strum their guitars as Duff stood in front of the mic.

♪You're my flower, you're my road

That I try to stay up on

Even when things, they go wrong

You stay there with me

You don't stay for what I do

The sleepless nights I drug you through

When I say things I don't mean to

You stay there with me

You uncovered this outlaw soul

You should've gone, baby, long ago

But you shined a light where it was dark

On my wasted heart

When I flew, you pulled me down

When I crashed, you were the ground

Where my bones are scattered all around

You stayed with me

You uncovered this outlaw soul

You should've gone, baby, long ago

But you shined a light where it was dark

On this wasted heart

My wasted heart needed healing

And you saved it for me

I've got a new start, rest your eyes

In time, these days will say what I never could

You stayed with me

You uncovered this outlaw soul

Should've gone, baby, long ago

But you shined a light where it was dark

Oh, you uncovered this outlaw soul

Should've gone, baby, long ago

But you shined a light where it was dark

On this wasted heart♫

“Duff,” Stevie whispered, tears streaming down her face. Duff sat the guitar down and jumped off the stage, going to her and holding her close to him. “That was beautiful.”

“It’s everything I’ve wanted to say to you for years,” He told her, brushing a tear off her face. “Bet your glad you went with the waterproof mascara, aren’t you?” He laughed a little bit.

“You just think you’re so funny, don’t you?” Stevie smiled up at him.

“I know I’m funny,” He leaned down and kissed her, the whole party cheering. Izzy put his guitar down and got off the stage as Stevie and Duff went off to socialize. He was half tempted to leave, when someone grabbed his shoulder.

“Stradlin,” Vince growled. “We need to fucking talk without your bodyguard around.”

“Vince…” Izzy turned to look at the blond. “I didn’t hit Sharise man. I didn’t even talk to her outside of saying hi. Just leave me alone.” He went to leave but Vince pulled him back.

“And why the hell should I believe you?” Vince asked.

“Because Sharise is a woman,” Izzy told him. “And I’m gay.” Vince's eyes widened and he let go of Izzy. “So if you’re gonna hit me, you might want to go talk to Axl. Because I think he wants to hit me too.”

“No, I don’t want to hit you,” Vince’s voice was soft and understanding. “Does anyone else know?”

“I, uh, Stevie and Duff know,” Izzy nodded. “Stevie was the first person I told, and she helped me tell Duff. I’m sure Slash and Dizzy know. I just told Axl and...he didn’t take it well.”

“Fucking hell,” Vince shook his head. “Why the fuck did you let me hit you at the awards show? Why didn’t you tell me then?”

“I wasn’t ready to come out in front of all of MTV’s cameras,” Izzy told Vince. “It might be the 90’s, but a lot of people are still stuck in the fucking 50’s. I already hate myself enough as it is for not just being fucking normal.”

“Hey! No. You don’t hate yourself for this. You can’t control this,” Vince grabbed his arms so Izzy was turned to look him in the eye. “You can hate yourself after a night of heavy drinking, or eating way too many chili dogs. Hell, you can hate yourself for your fashion choices. But you never, ever, hate yourself for this.”

“Vince…”

“No. I know what you’re going through, okay? If anyone says shit to you, you tell me and I’ll have two six-foot children and a literal demon there in a heartbeat. Do you understand?”

“Yeah…” Izzy nodded. “I’m gonna head out though. I’m still afraid Axl’s gonna hit me. I want to give him some time to calm down.” Vince let go of him and nodded.

“Call if you need anything. And I mean anything,” Vince told the guitarist. Izzy nodded and took his leave then.

“Hey, you seen Izzy?” Slash asked. “Stevie wanted to dance with him.”

“He...he had a headache. I told him to go home and relax,” Vince told Slash.

“Oh, I hope he’s okay,” Slash turned to go let Stevie know. Vince sighed.

“You and me both kid,” Vince headed over to a group of people to grab a drink and mingle.

Soon, the reception was over and the honeymoon could begin. The McKagan’s were going to Hawaii for a couple weeks, just the two of them. Princess Peach was going to be staying with Slash and his snakes, but Slash promised Tommy he could take the dog whenever he wanted.

Duff kept an arm wrapped around Stevie as they waited to board their plane hours after the party was over. He kept placing kisses on her whenever he could, making her laugh.

“Duff, why do you keep doing that?” She laughed.

“I want to get a million kisses in with my wife,” He told her. “And I’m never going to get tired of saying that.” He laughed. Stevie just kept smiling.

Forever Tags: @anathewierdo​ @dekahg​ @marvel-af-imagines​ @feelmyroarrrr​ @nanie5​ @imboredsueme​ @gemini0410​ @aiaranradnay​ @babypink224221​ @mogarukes​ @xxwarhawk​ @sandlee44​ @shatteredabby​ @caswinchester2000​ @supernaturalwincestsblog​ @lauravic​ @mrsambroserollinsacklesmgk​ @teller258316​ @horrorpxnk​ @tommyleeownsme​ @marvelismylifffe​ @mrslogansixxpixx​

Guns n Roses Tags: @duffshairdye​ @slashscowboyboots​ @hauntedapricoteggsclam​ @bitter-13-suite​ @arianareirg​ @lucyboytom​ @ozzy-dumbass-of-darkness​

It’s So Easy Tags: @str4nge-haze​ @viralwolf02​

[envision-fandom]

Christmas Suprise

Thomas Sangster Fanfiction

Couple: Reader x Thomas

Rating: Cute/fluff

You have been dating Thomas for a while now and you had both just taken another step in your relationship when he had asked you to move in with him. You had never felt happier and with Christmas right around the corner you were ecstatic that you would be spending it with the one you love. Christmas was your favourite holiday and you had already prepared everything from decorations to food and even a perfect gift you were sure Thomas would love. As you were decorating the tree you hear the front door being unlocked, signalling that Thomas was home from work "Baby i'm home, where are you?" 

"I'm in here!" you call back. 

"Wow you've really made our apartment look festive, I can't believe you were able to do this all by yourself! Sorry I wasn't able to be around to help." 

"It's okay Tommy I know how stressful work is and I love Christmas so it's no bother" He comes up behind you and wraps his arms around your waist. 

"You're the best girlfriend anyone could ever ask for" he says as he nuzzles his face into your neck "So what does my gorgeous girlfriend want for Christmas this year?" 

You had no reason to think over Thomas's question, as you already knew exactly what you wanted. You turned to face him and smiled at his adorable face "All I want for Christmas is you!" 

He chuckles at your request "But baby you've already got me" 

You smile back at him, snuggling into his chest "I know! Then I don't need anything because everything I've ever wanted is right here in front of me" You look back up into his eyes and he pulls you into a tender kiss and you knew in your heart this is the happiest you have ever felt.

Time skip- Christmas eve. 

You had been preparing most of the Christmas dinner, to be sure it was ready for the next day, making it easier to cook. You had moved all of your presents under the tree and had just gotten out of the shower and into your new comfy Christmas pyjamas ready for a night of cuddles and watching films with Thomas. You sat on the sofa, flicking through the Christmas films on Netflix waiting for Thomas to come home from work. He was a little late, but you didn't mind as you knew how stressful his job was and being a famous actor wasn't easy. You settled on watching Love Actually, it had always been your favourite Christmas film and you loved admiring Thomas and how cute he was as a child. You got to thinking about how cute yours and Thomas's children would be, hoping that they would look a lot like him, as he was so damn adorable. Your phone started to ring, startling you and interrupting your fantasy about your future life with Thomas. It was an unknown number "Hello?" 

"Hey babe, it's just me. I'm really sorry, I know I promised you that i'd be home for Christmas but work is really hectic and they won't let me leave! I'm so sorry love please don't be mad at me?" 

Your mood instantly changed and your previous smile faltered "Are you sure there's no way for you to come home?" you inquired, desperate to not have to spend Christmas alone.

"Yeah love, i'm really sorry, I promise i'll make it up to you!" 

You didn't want to make a scene or cause Thomas to feel guilty, so you played it off as no big deal "Okay sure, it's no problem. Don't work too hard." 

"Okay baby, i'll ring you later, I've got to go. I love you, bye." He ended the call and you were left sitting there, in your apartment feeling empty and alone. Tears began streaming down your face, as the reality that you wouldn't be able to spend your favourite holiday with the one you love sunk in. You made your way upstairs and curled up under the cold covers of your vacant bed, missing the loving touch of your boyfriend.

You woke up the next day, feeling even crappier than the night before. You had overslept and it was already 1 o'clock. You decided to ring up your parents to see if you could head over to theirs earlier, seeing as you had no other plans for the day. You began to get yourself ready, wearing your new red silk underwear and red velvet dress, trying to get into the Christmas spirit, but ending up feeling even more depressed knowing you couldn't show it off to Thomas- the person you had bought it all for. You finished up your makeup and headed out the door, not bothering to glance over at the unopened presents under the tree, knowing full well that it would only worsen your mood. After several hours of drinking and celebrating with your family, you decided it was time to head home- although you weren't too pleased to go back to your vacant apartment, you didn't want to intrude on your parents plans. Each step you took towards your apartment door, caused your heart to ache, knowing that you would once again be left alone. You sighed before opening the door, not bearing to face the dark emptiness of your apartment, but you were instantly taken aback by what you saw. A full Christmas dinner was sat on the dinning table, waiting to be eaten. Candles were placed all around the apartment and a trail of rose petals led to the bedroom. You walked further into the apartment, anticipating what you had yet to see. This was the greatest surprise of all. Thomas was sat under the Christmas tree, a ribbon placed on top of his head, wearing nothing but santa boxers and fluffy socks "Merry Christmas!" he cheered. 

Tears started flowing down your cheeks and Thomas's grin instantly faltered, a look of concern plastered on his face "Love what's wrong?" He made his way towards you.

"Nothing's wrong. This is perfect! But how can you be here? I thought you had work?!" You playfully hit him on the arm. 

"I did, but I knew I couldn't leave you alone on Christmas, especially when I promised you that I would be your gift. He smirks at you and leads you over to the dinning room “you hungry?”

“Starving!” You grin at him, finally filled with festive cheer.

After an amazing Christmas dinner, cooked by your very talented boyfriend, you made your way over to the tree to open the presents. Thomas’s reaction to the limited edition model millennium falcon you managed to snag him was priceless. You had never seen such shock and amazement on his face before, which causes you to giggle. Just as you finished unwrapping your last gift off Thomas, you look up to hug him, thanking him for such amazing gifts but instantly stop in your tracks. You were not expecting this and you were left completely speechless and frozen in place, unaware if you were dreaming or if what you were seeing was reality. 

Thomas was knelt down on one knee, a small silver box in his hand, which contained the most spectacular, breathtaking ring inside. You blinked a couple of times, to be sure this was truly happening. Thomas takes a deep breathe, before looking into your eyes, a serious expression on his face.

“Y/N, you have made me the happiest man in the world. I have nothing but amazing memories of our time together and I cherish each and every one of them. I honestly can not imagine my life without you and I hope that you feel the same. So I guess what i’m saying is... Will you do me the honor of becoming my wife?”

You take a moment to process what has just happened, still too shocked to be able to function. You realised how long you were taking to answer when Thomas shifted uncomfortably, a worried look in his eye. 

You jumped on him, pushing him to the ground and straddling him, wrapping your arms around his neck “Oh my gosh Tommy of course! 1 million times Yes!!” He pulls you into a tender kiss, both of you smiling uncontrollably. You both finally pull away and he places the ring on your finger. It fit perfectly and looked even more beautiful now it was on your finger. 

“Now how about we make this Christmas even more special by heading to the bedroom for your last surprise” Thomas smirks at you, a lustful glint in his eye. 

“That sounds perfect, Mr.Sangster”  

He picks you up bridal style and walks towards the bedroom “This way Mrs.Sangster” 

You blush at the use of the name and smile in content. Christmas really was your favourite holiday season. 

Note: I hope you guys liked it! I wrote this really quickly because I totally forgot I promised to do a Christmas special, so don’t hate on it too much. Once again I’d just like to say how much I appreciate all the support, i love you guys so much (you da best!) and also I just wanted to wish you all MERRY CHRISTMAS!!!!! <3

[peakyblinders1919]

The One Pt. 2

gif by @bonniebird

Michael looked at the clock, then the door, then the clock again. 10:30 and you hadn’t barged into his office yet to distract him? Something must be off, he thought to himself. He sighed heavily, pushing away from his desk to stand up. He ran his hand through his hair. Even when you weren’t here to distract him, you were distracting him. He left the work waiting for him on the desk as he walked through the place to Tommy’s office, knocking and letting himself in.

“Make it quick Michael.” Tommy said in a raspy voice, a cigarette in one hand and pen in the other, obviously very busy.

“Yeah, uh, I was just wondering if Y/N’s around, I…I got a question for her about the books this week?”

Tommy looked up from his important work, studying Michael through a veil of smoke. “She telephoned earlier, something about her grandmother. Won't be in for a few days." He explained non-chalantly, getting back to his work when he finished.

"Well is everything alright?" Michael asked a little too worriedly.

"Didn't ask. Not my business." Michael contemplated his answer for a minute. Sure, his cousin was cold and deceiving, but he actually had a heart and this wasn't like him. There was that one time he paid off the family of the boy who'd gotten killed on their behalf. He was ready to leave, annoyed and confused by it all when he decided not to.

"It is your business by the way, she's your fucking employee. Might be nice to know."

"You have feelings for her?" He said without missing a beat, his head shooting up from the paperwork on his desk again.

"Y/N's one of my best friends sorry if I give a shit." Michael said, still fuming, ready to storm out but Tommy wasn't phased by his outburst.

"I see the way you look at her." Michael didn't say anything, folding into himself. "You can't hide it. It's the same way I looked at Grace."

Michael, speechless, dropped into the seat. "I didn't think it was that obvious."

"Don't worry, it's not. But she's a great girl."

"She fucking is huh? Smart, funny, beautiful..."

"So what are you waiting for?"

"I don't want to ruin our friendship."

"Michael, why do you think she's always coming into your office?" He hesitated to answer because he didn't know the answer, but also couldn't actually say the truth; because she was checking to see if he was awake. Tommy's sigh caught his attention again, looking to him for advice. He rummaged in his desk, pulled out a piece of paper and slid it to the boy. "This is her Grandma's address. Go visit her, she could use a friend to talk to. You didn't actually think I didn't give a shit?" Tommy asked, leaning back and blowing out smoke confidently, proud in what he'd just done.

"Thanks Tom." Michael said, walking out the door ready to go find you and return as more than friends.

"So tell me more..." Your grandmothers words were interrupted by her sputtering coughs consuming her body and making her shake. You waited for it to pass and when it did you handed her a glass of water, then sat on the chair next to her with your tea clasped firmly in your hands. “Tell me more about this Michael."

Even in the comfort of your Grandma’s home you blushed at the thought of thinking about Michael as anything more than your friend. But recently you hadn’t been able to stop thinking about him that way. From the moment you saw him in Tommy’s office you were smitten. It was those green eyes.

“He’s my best friend grandma. We work closely together though, so I don’t know…”

She drank some water before another bought of coughs hit her. You watched her shiver in the process, getting up to wrap her in a blanket. You hated seeing her this way, and it was unfortunate to say, but it was the only way you could spend time with her these days. Your job was becoming increasingly demanding.

“Come on, get to the juicy stuff…what’s he look like.”

“Grandma!” You asked appalled.

“What.”

“Alright. He’s absolutely gorgeous Grandma. He’s got the most breathtaking green eyes that just draw you in and brown hair and a nice smile, when he decides to show it. And he’s educated, hardworking, stubborn as hell too but you get used to it. Still, he’s very caring, loves his family… and I’m rambling aren’t I?” You said once you saw your Grandma’s goofy grin.

“It sounds like someone’s in love.”

“I am not. If anything I have a little crush on him, but he’s my best friend. What we have right now is good, it’s not complicated. We just hang out and have a good time and I don’t want to make it complicated.”

“Seems like it might be worth it to find out.” You smiled at her, putting your hand on her cold, skinny one by her side. You thanked her for listening and got up to plant a kiss on her forehead. You headed to the kitchen to start making dinner for her when the doorbell rang.

“You expecting company Grandma?” You asked as you walked back through the room towards the door, wiping your hands on your apron. “Invited some friends over for a crazy party?” She laughed, which turned into coughing and you opened the door, not ready for what was standing behind it.

“Michael!” You explained shocked to see him standing at your Grandmother’s doorstep, miles and miles from home, with a bouquet of flowers. He just showed that rare smile of his and after a moment of letting the shock settle you lunged forward, embracing him in a hug. You tried not to hold on too long, to take in his scent or anything as he wrapped his free arm around you. You forced yourself apart then, looking at him still a bit of disbelief on your face. “What are you doing here?”

“Well, I knew the second you didn’t barge into my office something was wrong. I bought this for your Grandma.” He said, indicating the flowers in his hand.

“Come in, please.” You said, talking the flowers from him and setting them up in water in the kitchen, but not before being stopped by your Grandma.

“Ohh, you were right. He is handsome. And he likes you.”

“Grandma stop it.” You whispered, hoping he didn’t hear any of it.

You continued into the kitchen. Somehow, you heard him say hello to your Grandma and her start asking him countless of questions over the fast beating of your heart.

“Ya ever killed anyone?” You heard the frail little women’s voice ask and rushed back in, setting the flowers next on the windowsill.

“Grandma… you can’t just ask people that.”

“But if you work with him…” She glanced at him sideways before trying to lean forward and whisper, “he must be one of those gangsters, and they have bloody hands.”

“Yes Grandma, you’re right, but it doesn’t really matter, now does it?” You glanced at Michael, throwing him an apologetic look but he didn’t look phased by her.

“It most certainly does, I wanna know your in safe hands.” You gasped at her words, shaking your head and hiding it in your hands, looking back up at Michael and mouthing ‘unbelievable’ to him.

“Ok Grandma, I think it’s time for you to rest.” You said, getting up to move her. She was saying goodbye, going up to Michael and looking at him, hard. He stood in her gaze uncomfortably, but played along. And when you turned your back for one second to get her bed ready, you barely overheard Michael reassure her he was always carrying and ready to kill anyone who wanted to hurt you. You smiled to yourself and put her to bed, returning to the kitchen to see Michael leaning against the counter smoking a cigarette.

“Sorry about that. She’s getting worse.” You explained without getting too emotional. “Do I even have to ask?” You said then, turning to look at him. He leaned on the counter, one hand deep in his pocket, the other bringing the cigarette back to his lips as he raised an eyebrow at you questioningly.

“Should I bother making tea or should I just pour the whisky?”

He chuckled. “I think you need it more than me.”

You bent down, retrieving the bottle you stashed away and pouring to heavy glasses. You crossed one arm as you stood next to him, looking at the liquid. “To…blissful ignorance.” He looked at you again but clanked glasses all the same as you sipped.

“You didn’t have to come.” You said after a long moment of silence. You said it but you didn’t mean it. It was good to see him. You eventually sat down at the little table, having a smoke he offered you to accompany your drink.

“I know but I wanted to. I wanted to make sure everything was ok.”

“Yeah, she’s doing fine.” You said, staring at the falling ashes as you tapped the cigarette into the tray.

“Sure, but what about you?”

“What about me?” You asked, your head popping up to meet his green eyes.

“How are you doing?”

“Honestly, fucking awful. I hate seeing her like this, you know. She’s not in a lot of pain but I can’t imagine what it must feel like to know you going to die soon and there isn’t much you can do about it.”

He changed his position, the chair squeaking as he leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table so he was closer to you. “It doesn’t seem to be affecting her much.”

“Well, that’s the other thing. Maybe she doesn’t really know she’s going and when it happens that’ll be it. And I don’t know which is worse. Either way she’s gonna be gone and I’m not ready-” your voice caught in your throat as a sob dared to take over. You were now talking to the ceiling, hoping it’d keep the tears from coming, but you were looking at a blurred sky. “I’m not ready to let her go Michael. But I’m glad I got to spend her last few days with her.”

And with that you broke down, and Michael was there to force your from your seat. Nothing more was said then as you wrapped your arms around him, your head comfortable on his chest as he rubbed your back comfortably.

“This. This is why I came.”

“Thank you.” You said with a last sniffle as the tears started to subside. You pulled away, groaning loudly and wiping your face dry. “Uh, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to cry all over you.”

“It’s fine. I didn’t really like this suit anyway.” He said, making you laugh.

“Me neither.” You admitted, causing him to make a face. “Thank you for coming. I’m really glad you did.” You said, both of you sitting again, smoking to calm the nerves. “Man, did you ever think this is where we’d be when you were sitting in Tommy’s office and I came in like a mad woman?”

“Definitely not.” A smiled rested on your face, content in the moment now as the sun was setting, the smell of carnations filling the room as you sat across from your best friend, who you loved. Time was ticking by in silence, but it didn’t bother you until looked at Michael again. He was staring off into the distance, the look on his face that usually means something’s bothering him.

“Hey,” you said, lightly nudging him. “What’s wrong?”

He huffed loudly then, throwing the rest of his drink down and slamming it on the table. “I can’t fucking do this anymore. Tommy was right.”

“Tommy? What are you talking about?”

“Y/N, you’re my best friend, you have been for fucking a year and a half but I can’t be just your friend anymore.”

“What..what are you saying?” You said, afraid of losing him.

He sighed and you watched him fighting with himself to say what he needed to. “Now might not be the best time to tel you but I have to. I like you.”

“Yeah, I like you too, what’s the problem?”

“No, I like you. I want to be more than your friend.”

“Wait, really?”

“Yes,” he sighed. “I’ve had a crush on you since you walked into the office rambling about numbers.”

“Well, that’s good because I had a crush on you the moment I looked into those green eyes of yours.”

“Fuck, I knew it.”

“You did not.” You said, nudging him again, but then staying there, close to him.

“So, are we doing this?” He asked, also liking the feeling of you close to him, your back resting against his chest, blowing smoke out as he waited for your answer.

“I think we have to. For my Grandma. It’s her dying wish.” You said, turning to look up at him. He smiled at your laugh, agreeing with you.

“Ok, we’ll do it but only for your Grandma.” You sealed the deal with a kiss, leaning forward to taste that sweetness you’d been dreaming off. After the feeling washed over you, you pulled apart, staring deep into his eyes.

“Can I tell you something?” You whispered.

“Of course.”

“You’re the one I’ve been missing.”

“Jesus. Just because I actually like you doesn’t mean you can just say shitty puns all the time.”

“Sorry, I couldn’t resist.” You said, apologizing with another kiss.

possible part three? let me know

also the bolded part is the cheesy line. get it. cause she always forget to carry the one...

[peakyxshelby]

Wait for me.

Part 1

A/N: sorry nothing too extreme happened just wait for part 3 

The days after your fight with Tommy, you didn’t leave your house. You didn’t take calls and you ignored anyone that came to the door. You needed time to get your head together to figure out a life that didn’t involve Tommy. You had noticed the men across the street that didn’t move the same place day in and day out. They were definitely there by order of Tommy and it was getting frustrating seeing them every time you looked out the window it was a constant reminder of the bastard. You stared out the window as the man stared back a switch flipped inside you. You grabbed your jacket before storming out of your house and across the street to the man who had been staring.

“Go on then fuck off back to Tommy! I know it's him that sent you and I swear to god if you don’t leave right now I will shoot you in the fucking face!”

“Miss. I don’t know what you’re talking about.” “I swear to fuck!” You lowered your voice pulling out a gun and holding it to the man's face. “Tell Tommy to leave me the fuck alone, now GO!” The man nodded and quickly walked away down the street leaving you standing with a crowd watching you. You sighed and made you way back into the house deciding it was time to get back to life. You got changed into fresh clothes and was brushing her hair when there was a knock on the door.

“Pol?” You asked confused when she just let yourself into your house.

“I’m so sorry (Y/N),” She hugged you tightly. “Things have been chaotic. Tommy’s practically disappeared, the boys are up to their wits end with you not there to do the papers.” You sighed heavily letting yourself drop down into the chair beneath you. Pol sat opposite you looking at you with genuine sadness in her eyes. “Killing his men isn’t going to make this easier though remember,” She said lightly trying to make a joke out of the situation.

“It’s not his right to have eyes on me 24/7 anymore. Bloody arse hole sends random men to stand outside my house staring at me, I know fine I’ll be followed as soon as I leave this house as well. I want to live my own life now and I don’t want Thomas fucking Shelby to be part of it in any way.”

“The men are for your protection, you know that. You haven’t been without Shelby protection since you met him when you were just kids. I’ll try to speak to him, you know when he comes out of bloody hiding. Can’t promise anything you know as well as I do that Tommy does as Tommy pleases.”

“Well, I know that all too well.”

“He had the eyes on you because he cares about you, doesn’t want to see you hurt.”

“Cares about me? You really think he cares about me, Pol?” You scoffed almost laughing at what she was trying to tell you.

“Aw come off it (Y/N) the boy has worshiped the ground you walk on since you were teenagers. I don’t know what she’s put in his head but it’s obviously got him worked up. I’m sure he’ll be running back here soon enough.”

“He loves her Pol. He’s happy.”

“He isn’t happy, he thinks he is.” You gave her a look before pulling yourself to your feet.

“You say Tommy had disappeared?” She nodded back. “Arthur at the offices?”

“Should be why?”

“Come on.” You say cheerfully grabbing your coat and making your way out the door.

“Arthur!” You say as you make your way into the offices. He looks relieved to see you.

“You coming back to work?” He asks hopefully, you could see he was tired. Over his shoulder was a poor girl drowning in paperwork and looking ridiculously confused.

“No, I actually came for a reference.” Arturs face returned to being stern.

“Yeah no problem, it has to be signed off by Tommy before it's eligible and fuck knows where he is so it might take a few days.”

”Yeah, that’s no problem.”

“Listen (Y/N) I’m really sorry about all that.”

“Don’t be. Not your fault.” He tried to pull out a smile but you still saw the guilt in his eyes.

It had been a week since you had asked Arthur to write a reference for you but you still hadn’t got it. You’d seen him a couple times down the Garrison and he assured you that it had been done was probably sitting on Tommy’s desk amongst a pile of other shite he has to catch up on after his hiatus.

“I need it bad, Can’t afford to pay rent if I can’t get a job.”

“I’ll remind him of it, none of us have really dared mention your name since you know it all kicked off.”

“He still there?”

“Should be,” Arthur said while looking at his pocket watch. “He has loads to be doing.”

“I’ll see you later,” You smile as you get up and head down the street to the Shelby offices.

“Tommy!” You shout scanning the place as you let yourself in.

“What the fuck is she doing here?” You heard graces muffled voice shouting at Tommy in rage when she heard you. You rolled your eyes slightly, you were truly sick of this. Tommy moved his head out of his office into the hallway. He furrowed his brow as he made his way to you closing the office door behind him leaving a yapping Grace.

“ You need to leave,” he says coldly.

“I didn’t come for a chat Tommy I need my…”

”Will you please leave now’s not a good time.”

“Ok but…”

“I’ll come and speak to you soon but now isn’t a good time.”

“Tommy I need…”

“Niamh Please!” He cut you off again as you stood in front of him speechless.

YOu turn around on your heels and head back for the door as he sighed.

“I’ll come find you!” He calls softly after you.

“I wouldn’t bother,” You hiss back, slamming the door behind you as you left.

You raced back to your flat, head spinning as you tried to calm down. You rested your head against the wall and closed your eyes for a moment in hopes that nothing would be spinning when you opened them. In the tiny moment, you had closed your eyes you remember the phone call you had recently had with your cousins from London.

**

“Sometimes I think I should move down to London, I have family there and there are more jobs.”

“I could get you a job! My boyfriend works at this bakery and they're looking for a new secretary. You're good with books aren’t you.”

“Oh, Trish I could never really leave this place my whole life is here.”

“You mean Tommy’s there.”

**

“Hello?”

“Hey Trish, it’s (Y/N)!”

“And what do I owe this pleasure?” She laughed down the phone excited to hear from her cousin.

“I’m coming to London.”

“What? When?”

“Tomorrow, is that job still available?”

“I don’t know, I’ll ask.”

“Right I’ll see you tomorrow.” Before she could say anything else you were packing your bags, filling them up with as much as you can. You rang your mum who came over and helped you. She often spoke of London, saying she wishes she never left. After you had most things sorted and money out for your train ticket you decided to phone Pol.

“Hello, Pol it’s me!”

“Everything OK?”

“Yeah, well, I just wanted to let you know I’m moving.”

“Moving to where? your place is nice. Though it’s lovely.”

“London.”

“Lon… what” You can’t move to London!”

“That’s the thing Pol I can! I have a job lined up and family there. This was all the kick up the arse I needed to just let myself get out of this place. You could hear her sigh down the phone, she loved you like one of her own and didn't particularly want to see you pack up and leave.

“We could get you work, you know so you don’t have to leave.”

“Yeah, how? No one wants to take me on since I gave my boss a black eye. My last boss won't even sign a damn reference for me after firing me for no good reason. This is what I need away from Tommy. You know it’s best for both of us.”

“I know. I’ll miss you you know, our Ada is in London have you let her know yet?”

“Not yet.”

“And I want to know where you’re staying and working, and what your new number is OK? Can’t get rid of me that quick.”

You arrived at the train station by yourself bags in hand. You were a little early but you honestly couldn’t get out of that flat fast enough. You sat on the bench watching the gray smoke that settled over Small Heath move slightly with the wind.

“(Y/N)!”You heard a voice shout through panting. You turned around to see Tommy running up to the platform. “What do you think you’re doing?”

“Tommy? What the hell are you doing here?”

“Look you don’t have to leave,” he struggles to say handing you the signed reference. You look down at his hand taking it from him slowly. It all finally hit you that you were really leaving. You could feel a lump form in your throat as you stared down at the paper.

“You know that’s not why I’m leaving Tommy.”

“It’s not safe in London.”

“It’s not safe here either.”

“Don’t go,” He pleaded.

“Why not? Only not want me leaving because you can't have me stalked and held in my room like some sort of hostage? Because you won’t be able to know what's going on with every second of my life?” You spat angrily remembering the last few weeks of hell.

“No…”

“Then why?” He stayed silent, he couldn't look at you. His eyes darted around the place focusing on anything but you, this moment lasted a lifetime as your train pulled up beside you. “Good bye Thomas.” With that, you stepped on the train and headed to your new life.

It had been three months since you’d left for London. You managed to find yourself a new place and went to work in the bakery as soon as you arrived. You had been around the Shelby’s for too long and you knew that the boss Mr. Solomons was a gangster, the bakery actually being a disguise for rum and other dealings. He trusted you to an extent when it came to a business but you pretty much stayed out of each other's way. You had no contact with Tommy since you left, even though he danced into your thoughts a couple times a day. Polly, however, rang you once a day, for the most part, you and Ada had become a lot closer since she didn’t live too far away and Arthur and John phoned occasionally. You liked your new life. You knew London was good for you but your heart still pined for small heath. Everything was going well. But then one day your nightmare had caught up with you. You froze when you saw the tall figure you used to know shadowed by the light of the sun as he entered  L the bakery. He was like a ghost from your past. You spun around and dashed down the corridor as quickly as you could banging into Mr. Solomons as you ran.

“You alright love?”

“Yeah ehm sorry, Mr. Solomons I just need to… I uh feel unwell.”

“For fuck sake call me Alfie,” he grunted before moving off past you leaving you to stand in the darkness behind a pillar. You struggled to catch your breath as you heard the familiar voice. You saw the door of Alfie's office closed as you dashed to the front door waving at Ollie as you left and heading straight to Ada’s. She didn’t mention her brother being in town what were you going to do if he found out where you worked? Lots of questions played on your mind. You banged hard on Ada's door and when she answered you knew something was up. You could tell by the look on her face.

“(Y/N) She’s here,” Ada whispered.

“Shit.” you say realising that she meant Grace, you go to turn around when you heard Grace's voice.

“Ah it’s nice to see you,” she smiled. “Are you coming in?”

After half an hour of awkward small talk with the three of you, baby Karl started to cry giving Ada her ticket out. You looked at her pleadingly practically begging her to say. She mouthed ‘sorry’ as she headed away.

“Listen,” Grace started as the door behind Ada closed. “I’m sorry,” you said nothing. You just stared at her blankly you didn’t know what to say.

“Oh, nice.” was all you managed.

“It’s just, You know… Tommy still loved you.” You almost choke on your tea when she said it spluttering everywhere. “Oh come on you know he did, and honestly I think he still does. I was jealous but losing you broke his heart.”

“He loves you Grace.”

“Maybe, but I know that he still loves you whatever he tries to say. I can see it in his eyes when people speak of you. When he looks at you, it’s like he’s never seen anything quite like it. He’s never looked at me that way. That’s all I wanted you to know, I thought if you left then maybe he’d look at me that way.”

[killer-barnes]

Love Is Complicated

Tom Holland x reader

Request: Yes

Summary: The Reader confesses about their want to fall in love and ends up having an emotional conversation with Tom, their best friend, during movie day.

Word Count: 1,949

Warnings: Language, fluff, err… emotional romance, love confessions, (let me know if I missed any pls).

A/N: Alright, guys. I know it’s been a while, but I just haven’t been in the mood to write and have been in a funk recently. But I pushed this out somehow with my definite lack of experience. It’s raining and it’s calming me, so maybe that’s why. I’m sorry to the anon that requested this. This is probably not what you wanted. :// I’ll stop rambling. Enjoy!

Love.

It’s something that most people want or desire in life.

It’s something that brings a smile to someone’s face or gives them a sheer moment of pure joy and happiness.

But, it’s something that you didn’t have.

Why?

Because love is complicated.

Not that you were a total romantic or anything, you just enjoyed the thought of falling in love.

Having never been in a relationship, you didn’t know what it felt like to be in that situation and it was something you were always wanting and waiting for.

But it never came your way, which gave you the impression that it would never happen.

That was until you met your best friend, Tom.

Your interest in love began around your teen ages and escalated as you grew older, especially with you vast array of romantic films and TV shows.

You would always say to your friends that you “hated” them.

But in reality, instead of going out with them one night, you decided to watch some random, cheesy romantic movie, which ended with an empty carton of ice cream and a load of tissues scattered around your apartment.

Of course no one found out, but your longing for love never ceased.

It left you with an empty heart.

It wasn’t something you could tell your best friend, Tom, about.

Not because he was a boy, but because he was your best friend/crush.

However, he knows nothing about the crush and you try desperately to keep it that way.

Until one day, you slipped up as you two were hanging out around his place.

You were going over to Tom’s to hang out as you both usually did and watched random ass movies that were on the TV.

It didn’t matter what they were of, you both just enjoyed making fun of the horrible films that people decided to play for the whole world to see.

But today was different.

Tom decided it would be fun to surprise you with a movie of his choice, which left you in a ball of nervousness.

Fuck…

I swear if it’s a love story I’m going to flip my shit.

You thought, silently cursing yourself as you walk up the steps to Tom’s apartment.

Arriving to the door, you calm yourself, and knock in an appropriate manner waiting patiently for your best friend to open the door,

Hearing a muffled “coming,” you nervously hide your shaky hands into the sleeve of your sweatshirt as the door abruptly opens, revealing a bright, soft, tousled haired, Tom.

“Hey, Y/N! Ready for movie day?! I’ve got all the goods. Snacks, blankets, drinks, you know the whole ordeal,” he exclaims, walking into the apartment while pointing to the items he listed off.

“You bet! So, w-what surprise movie are we watching?” you ask with slight raise of sound in your voice.

Turning to look at you with a wicked grin, Tom replies, “you’ll see…”

Nervously taking a glance towards him, you head towards the couch.

Well, this could go several ways.

Either some lame ass action movie with too much CGI.

Or

Some random romantic movie that makes me bawl my eyes out.

In other words, this should be fun.

After setting up Tom’s couch in a comfortable way with his never ending supply of blankets and pillows, you look towards the kitchen seeing him struggle to bring everything over.

“You gonna help or just watch me struggle, love?”

Blushing at the pet name, you snarkily reply, “meh, you seem to be doing juuuust fine, Tommy. Besides, I found the perfect spot.”

“Oh, c’mon! That’s my favorite spot, Y/N! And unless you want to eat your popcorn off the floor, you should help your best friend out. Please!” Tom whines, struggling to hold the items in his lanky hands.

Sighing dramatically, you get up from your spot.

“Alright, don’t get your panties in a twist, I’m coming.”

“Panties?”

“Hey, I ain’t one to judge. Just assumed from your girly attitude.”

Tom scoffs, while trying to cover a laugh.

“Alright, weirdo. Let’s go watch the movie.”

Covering the TV screen so he can hide the surprise movie, you roll your eyes at his dorkiness.

Once the movie begins, Tom races back towards where you’re seated, and snuggles into your side, as he does at every movie day.

You smile down at him as your gaze returns to the screen lighting up the dark apartment.

However, you freeze in your seat as the title appears across the screen.

Perks of Being a Wallflower

Well, fuck me.

You’ve seen this particular one several times, alone of course, but it always seemed to get to you.

You just wanted to fall in love and be like Emma Watson as she finally gets together with Charlie (even though she leaves for college at the end, but that’s not the point).

You felt as though you related to her situation.

She pushes her true desires and wants away, instead of facing them full on, like finally realizing how much of a wonderful, kind, and sweet person Charlie is.

He can love her more than any of those other boys combined.

It was most definitely a tearjerker in your book.

Your thoughts were interrupted by Tom waving his hand in front of your dazed face.

“Hey, Y/N? Earth to Y/N?”

“O-Oh, sorry. Just thinking,” you reply sheepishly pushing your thoughts of love aside.

With a smile tugging his features, he replies, “you’re going to love it.”

Chuckling at his remarks, you turn your attention back to the screen nervously controlling your rapidly beating heart.

Yeah, because I’ve already seen it.

When it came to hiding your feelings towards Tom, you were pretty good at it.

You didn’t want to damage the relationship you guys have had for god knows how long.

It means way more than your want to “fall in love.”

He probably thinks it’s pathetic anyways, especially since he picked this movie.

It was one of your favorites, but he didn’t need to know that detail.

Half way through the movie, Tom hasn’t said a word.

You’ve seen it several times, but every time, you felt so many new emotions.

For Tom, he felt connected to Charlie in a sense.

He’s been trying so hard to give you signals that he wants to be with you, but he gets nothing in return.

Tom feels rejected, but even though he’s been in love with you since the beginning, he doesn’t want to risk the relationship.

But at the same time, if he does nothing, someone might snatch you up instead.

He knows he could treat you right, more than that one ‘hot guy’ that seems to be bothering you at your day job at the cafe down the street.

That’s why he wanted to surprise you with this movie.

He wanted to make his move.

However, he didn’t realize that you felt the same and the movie was influencing your feelings, which were hard to control once you fully took into account the amount of romance appearing on the screen.

It was coming to that one particular scene that always makes you cry.

Charlie and Sam are sitting in her room on the last night before she leaves for college and they are discussing about love and why Charlie never got together with Sam.

It’s something that you think about with Tom a lot.

You didn’t want to rip him apart, but at the same time, not being able to fall in love, or better yet, express that love, was ripping you, instead.

The one line that really sets off the tears begins as Charlie explains to Sam, “well… we accept the love we think we deserve.”

Tears are slowly cascading down your cheeks, as you try your best to hold in your sobs.

Tom doesn’t seem to notice until he hears a sniffle come from your end of the snuggling mess you two are absorbed in.

You feel Tom’s worried gaze, which causes you to panic internally.

FUCK!

He heard me, didn’t he?

Oh, shit.

I’ve been compromised.

Abort!

Abor-

Your tormenting thoughts are cut off by Tom’s soothing voice and touch against your arm.

“Y/N, are you okay? I-I, I honestly didn’t know it was going to be like this. Well, sort of, but not to make you cry?”

Quickly wiping away your tears as if you were never crying you face his direction, “what? No, I’m fine, Tom! It’s just some allergies going around, y’kno-”

Seeing right through your lies, Tom pleads with his eyes for you to tell him the truth.

Taking a breath and letting out a sigh, you mumble, “I just want to fall in love.”

“W-What?”

Pausing for a few seconds, you gather your words.

“I-I mean, I just want to be in a relationship where the love is endless, as if every time we see each other, we fall in love all over again. I-It’s just, fuck. All of these romantic movies I’ve been watching ever since I was a teen taught me what it was like to fall in love, but in reality… it’s nothing like that. I feel discouraged, I-I, I feel like I already have fallen, but they probably don’t want to be with someone like me. Look at me, I’m a mess. I-”

You were interrupted by Tom grabbing your hand and grazing his thumb peacefully over your knuckles sending you an overwhelming sense of calmness.

“Falling in love can take its time, believe me. I’ve been waiting for a while to courage up the confidence to ask someone I’ve been dying to love. They’ve been there for me through thick and thin, especially through my tough film days, I-I mean, I just, I understand, you, love. Love can be so fucking complicated and confusing that sometimes, you just want to push it away and never worry about it again.”

You’re left speechless as you feel Tom’s breath reach your face.

“But I can’t stand it anymore. I need them to know.”

Gazing into his eyes, you reply, “then let them know. What’s the worst that could hap-”

“I’m in love with you, Y/N.”

Your breath is caught in your throat as you take in his words.

“Y-Y-You are in love with me?”

“Ever since the beginning, but you’ve meant too much for me to risk it. I-I just can’t handle it anymore. Hearing you think about love makes me want to be with you even more. I didn’t realize how cheesy you really are, but I guess you kept that part hidden for a reason, hmm?”

Embarrassingly chuckling, you nod, adding, “I didn’t want what we have to be ruined. I realized that I-I’ve fallen in love with you, but I kept pushing it down and those romantic fucking movies didn’t help the situation at all. You just mean so damn much to me and I-”

Your voice got caught in your throat as you felt tears welling up in your already puffy eyes.

You feel Tom’s caring eyes take in your sensitive state, as he places a tender finger against your skin to shed your erupting tears.

“And I-I love you.”

You see Tom’s eyes slowly well up with tears as he absorbs those deepening words.

Chuckling with a sense of longing in his voice he replies, “you have no idea how long I’ve wanted to hear that. I love you, Y/N. Forever and always.”

Closing your eyes and placing a delicate kiss on the surface of his plump lips, you whisper taking a sigh of relief and serenity, “forever and always.”

A/N: God, I’m sorry guys. This is a load of shit. Seriously, I have no idea what’s going on. I’m sorry if this doesn’t make any sense. Maybe today is just not my day. Anyways, feedback is appreciated. Thanks for reading.

[cafecitowriter]

Heartstrings (Lin-Manuel Miranda x Reader)

A/N: So this one is based off a request that I unfortunately can’t find (sorry omg). That being said, it ended up changing a lot from what the request actually was. I’m not sure if I’m completely satisfied with it, but hey, here it is!

Summary: You’re asked to be a part of the Hamilton orchestra, and then some. Of course, that means spending a bit of quality time with one Lin-Manuel Miranda

Word Count: 2,918

Masterlist 

You made your way downtown, your violin in hand. You hummed to yourself to calm your nerves. It wouldn’t do well to look as anxious as you felt on your first day of work.

You were to be in the orchestra for a show called Hamilton. You were still in shock as to how you got asked to be a part of a show whose intentions were to go off-Broadway just freshly out of university. Sure, you had been playing several instruments since the age of 5, and had attended Juilliard, but you thought there would be a lot more of the clichéd “starving artist” period before you would make anything remotely big. Not that you were complaining, of course.

You just had to work harder not to fuck this up.

A friend of yours had been recently in touch with a man named Alex Lacamoire, who was working on Hamilton. Upon being asked if there were any openings for the orchestra, Alex had said that there was still a lot of work to be done before an orchestra could even be incorporated, but if they had anyone in mind he would definitely give them a shot. Not even a week later you had had a one-on-one audition with the great man of music himself.

…

“It’s nice too meet you, Y/N,” Alex said upon greeting you.

“You too,” you smiled brightly and shook his hand.

“So for this audition, you’re gonna play some things, and then we’ll jam out. However, before we begin, I’m just curious, and please answer honestly, tell me what music is to you.”

The question had caught you off-guard. You were expecting to play for the man, maybe talk about your previous experience at most. You took a moment to think it through.

“Music to me is… is the soul of the world. It bends to what we will it to bend to. Its different genres give us endless potential to create and can be used for different purposes. It’s this… this unique force that can lend itself to creation, to healing, to love, to destruction, and so many other things. Without music, we couldn’t convey so much of what we do. It forces us to listen and to understand and to empathize. Without it, expression would be so stifled and limited. Music makes us as humans better. It enhances and enriches our lives.”

Alex looked at you for a solid few moments and you held your breath. You had gotten a bit carried away with yourself, but upon seeing a smile grow on Alex’s face, you figured your honest answer hadn’t been half bad.

Alex then led you through a few simple songs that you had to cold read, to which you played on your violin. Then he challenged you to play by ear and match him as he played on piano. After a few melodies of those, he told you that you could continue playing the same notes he was, or you could get creative. Deciding on the latter, you two began what could have resembled a casual jam session had this not been an audition. After playing a few different melodies, he gave you a curious look.

“That was an interesting choice for the last one.”

“Well I chose to compliment and not overpower. I felt that I only really needed to come in at the end of each section, therefore highlighting the beginning and giving the piano more importance. Music is about give, take and balance, and knowing when to highlight certain sections and instruments in order to create the most impact.”

Alex couldn’t hold back his grin, which gave you hope.

“Well spoken… Y/N, out of curiosity, how many instruments do you play?”

“Um, well violin, viola, piano, cello, guitar, flute, and clarinet. So seven. Oh! But I’ve learned a little bit on the trumpet too, so I can manage fairly well if I practise a song enough.”

“Y/N, how would you like to be a part of Hamilton?”

…

You were stunned at the offer, but accepted readily. What was even better, Alex had not only offered you a part in the orchestra, but also a part on the creative team. He told you that you looked at music differently than most people that he knew. You could listen to something and see what it needed to be the best version of itself, depending on what the intent was. It was exactly what Hamilton needed, and he would love to have you on the team.

Alex, or Lac, as he told you to call him, explained to you what his role as the Music Director was. He then went on to tell you that after getting permission from their Production Manager to do so, he was searching for an Assistant Musical Director to shadow him and assist him so that he could spend more time with his wife and newborn child, while still being able to work on Hamilton. In other words, he wanted you to be the right-hand to the right-hand man.

This was why you were on your way to what he had called a “Cabinet Meeting” with himself, director Tommy Kail, and the mind behind its conception, Lin-Manuel Miranda. You had heard of In the Heights, and in fact loved it. You loved the infusion of both salsa, hip-hop and rap being incorporated into a musical. Lin and Lac were geniuses, in your opinion. Now you had the incredible opportunity to work alongside them. You really didn’t want to fuck this up.

You took a breath before you entered the building and looked for the right room. You heard voices close by, and peering in, you found Lac standing with two other men by a piano, so you walked in quietly. Noticing your arrival, Lac waved you over.

“Hey! Y/N, this is Tommy and Lin,” he said as you shook their hands respectively.

“Guys, this is Y/N, and she is incredible,” he grinned at you.

You let out a small laugh, the tension you had been holding slowly releasing.

“Wow now that is the best introduction I’ve ever gotten.”

“Well you deserve it,” Lac said, grinning.

“So you’re the illustrious Y/N we’ve heard so much about,” Lin said with a smile. “I must say, the only thing Lac didn’t tell us about you was how beautiful you are.”

He then took your hand and kissed it. You felt your face burn with a blush and you remained speechless. Tommy hit Lin upside the head, breaking the moment as Lac laughed.

“You know that’s not what I meant by, ‘you need to practice being more of a flirt so you can characterize Alexander better,” Tommy said with a playful roll of his eyes.

“In all fairness, Tommy, you didn’t give me parameters on who I was allowed and not allowed to flirt with,” he joked.

You then realized that he hadn’t let go of your hand and you blushed a little bit. Lin seemed to notice the same thing you had, and gave your hand an extra squeeze before letting it go.

The rest of the meeting went by in a blur. Everyone caught you up to speed on where the script was at, giving you a copy, including sheet music for the existing songs. More than once your eyes held Lin’s gaze for just a fraction of a second more than what was considered appropriate, resulting in your fumbling responses, to which Lin only smiled fondly at you.

The meeting ended with the promise of attending the next day’s rehearsal to sign your contract, meet the cast and get a feel for what the process was like. Lac and Tommy left fairly quickly soon afterward, leaving you and Lin to pack up your things.

“You know I’m really glad you’re joining our team, Y/N,” Lin said enthusiastically, to which you smiled brightly at him.

“I am too. I mean I was glad to get any job, but knowing that I get to work with the genius behind In the Heights still has me pinching myself to make sure it isn’t a dream.”

“You’re a ‘Heights’ fan?” Lin looked at you with a curious expression.

“Are you kidding me? You incorporated so many different genres that are thought to be unconventional for musical theatre into a musical, and not only that, don’t even get me started on how well it all blended. Like it just flows, you know? There was so much attention to detail, like creating a melody with things like Usnavi’s celebratory rap in “It Won’t Be Long Now”. At a glance, it can seem very separate but it’s all just distinct beats that are repeated in sequence but emphasized, and the flow was created due to the stress on the rhymes, which are accented by the Spanish words most notably. But yeah - yeah, sorry, I didn’t mean to get carried away…” you trailed off, feeling a faint blush creep up on your cheeks as you realized Lin had been staring at you dumbfounded.

“Hey don’t apologize! Never say you’re sorry for getting passionate about things,” Lin said earnestly, grabbing your hand and giving it a squeeze. “And if I’m being honest,” he continued. “I could listen to you talk about music all day.”

“Well, we’re gonna be spending the next few months, if not more, together, so be careful what you wish for, because that’s exactly what you’re gonna be getting.”

“I can’t wait,” he grinned genuinely at you.

…

When you joined the next day’s rehearsal and signed the contract you couldn’t get the smile off your face. Lin had caught you off guard by greeting you with a hug the moment you set down your violin. You giggled as he literally picked you up off your feet. When he placed you back on the ground again, you had immediately been bombarded by the cast introducing themselves to you. Throughout the greetings and occasional hugs (some of them were very affectionate, you could tell), Lin had stayed by your side, watching you with a tender expression on his face, unknown to you of course. You were struck by the fact that everyone had been so kind to you, and it made you even more excited to be working at Hamilton.

Throughout the rehearsal you stayed quiet, wanting to observe the dynamic that the company had already created in order so that you wouldn’t disrupt it. Counteracting that, of course was Lin, who would jump at any chance to include you in discussions or conversations. By the time the lunch break had rolled around, you felt like you were part of the team.

“Y/N, you have to play us something!” Jasmine grinned at you when she saw that you had perched yourself on the piano bench, as though you were in your natural habitat.

You blushed at her words.

“Oh I don’t know…”

“Awe come on Y/N!” Oak pleaded.

“You know they won’t let up until you actually do it,” Lin added with a hopeful grin.

“I don’t know…”

“What if I sing along?” Lin suggested

“What is this, Glee?” you retorted, causing him to laugh.

You couldn’t help but think to yourself how you would love to hear that sound more often.

“Okay then, smartass, we’ll play a duet on the piano instead,” Lin said as he sat beside you.

Since it was clear that you weren’t getting out of this, you rolled your eyes playfully at him.

“Fine, but remember, you asked for it.”

You could feel Lin smiling widely as you began to play. After a few seconds, he joined in with his melody. You didn’t know how long you played for since you always had a tendency to get lost in music when you played. You tried not to focus on how well you two had been playing together, as though you had always been improvising piano duets with him. Letting your instincts take over, you allowed your eyes to close as you continued to play along with Lin.

After what you assumed to be another minute, perhaps two or three, you realized that Lin was no longer playing with you. You opened your eyes and stopped playing abruptly, only to be startled when everyone began clapping, causing you to blush under all the attention.

“Y/N that was so good!” Jasmine exclaimed cheerfully.

“Oh, you know, it was nothing. Besides, I had a great duet partner,” you smiled at Lin, hoping to take some of the attention off of yourself.

“No way. The last two minutes were all you, and they were two minutes of pure beauty,” he said, reaching up to brush a stray hair away from your face and tuck it behind your ear.

“Although,” he continued in a quieter tone than before, “I believe that with you, every moment is beautiful.”

The cast’s “ooooohs” and subsequent commentary fell on your deaf ears as you took in Lin’s adoring gaze.

…

“No.”

Lac played another melody on the piano, and you sighed.

“No,” you both said in unison.

You had been working on Hamilton for just over two months, and were currently in one of the rehearsal rooms with Lac trying to perfect one of the songs that Lin had sent you.

“There’s just something missing,” Lac said.

“I know, and I’m determined to get it right before Lin gets here.”

“You know it’s not like you need to prove yourself,” Lac said, a knowing look on his face.

“I know… I just - I want to-”

“Make him proud?”

You could practically hear Lac’s smile in his voice and you blushed.

“Well I mean… Yeah…”

“If you ask me, he feels more than pride when he thinks of you,” Lac winked at you and you furrowed your eyebrows in confusion.

“What do you mean?”

Before Lac could respond, you heard Lin’s voice as he approached.

“Hello, hello, hello! Now what are we cooking today? I mean, besides you, Y/N, because you look smoking,” he winked and you let out a laugh.

Lin had taken to flirting with you consistently since the day you met, claiming that he still needed to master Hamilton’s flirtatiousness.

“You know I think I’ve heard better pick up lines than that,” you retorted.

“I’ve definitely heard better ones,” Lac said with a roll of his eyes as he discreetly hid the music you were just working on in favour of the ones for the song you had finished an hour ago.

You and Lin smiled at each other for a few moments before you looked away, clearing your throat as you realized you had been staring for just a moment too long.

“So, this is what Y/N and I came up with for The Story of Tonight,” Lac spoke up when neither of you said anything else.

Lac began to play the sequence, and you joined in on your violin. The only real thing you did was to add some more violin to the melody, but otherwise you had left it untouched. However, Lin looked at you with such caring and happy eyes that you couldn’t help but blush under his gaze, forcing yourself to focus harder on the task at hand. When you and Lac finished, Lin was grinning at you.

“That was incredible!”

“Thanks. I mean, we didn’t even do much to it-”

“But you added what it needed for it to be the best it could be,” Lin assured you.

You smiled at him and found yourself lost in his eyes. The moment was lost when Lac cleared his throat, startling you both.

“Right. Yeah. Okay. So um, anyway, Lac wrote up the new sheet music for this song,” you managed to say, even though your mind was clouded by thoughts of Lin and his gorgeous eyes.

“Of course he did. You know, I’d be so lost without him,” Lin grinned.

“You’re not wrong,” Lac replied. “Though now you do have Y/N as a contingency plan should anything ever happen to me,” he smirked.

“Nah, she’s more than a contingency plan,” he said softly.

You blushed and smiled at him.

“You know a bit more practise, and you may just have this flirting thing down,” you teased.

As Lin let out a laugh that was more melodic than any music you had ever heard, you realized that you were really getting in too deep.

“Yeah well the day that happens is the day I finally manage to sweep you off your feet,” he said with a wink, causing you to giggle.

“You’re ridiculous,” you replied.

Of course he wasn’t being serious. This is just how your friendship was with Lin. He would flirt, you would get flustered, and you would both laugh about how silly it all was. After all, it’s not like he would ever feel the same way toward you as you felt about him.

“Ridiculously smooth, you mean.”

“In your dreams,” you teased.

“Duh. But in my dreams you’re the one who’s telling me that.”

You couldn’t help but relish in the way that Lin reached for your hand and kissed it. You thought to yourself that you really didn’t mind being in so deep. After all, it’s not like you could dig your way out at this point.

If you were being honest, you really didn’t want to.

Besides, when had a little celebrity crush ever hurt anyone?