#i loooove his messy grown beard

[mehh141]

Joe “Bear” Graves |Six s2ep2

Im not gonna lie, he’s kinda hot when he’s angry

[glamrockmonarch]

I loooove your blog and your little imagines!! I see your requests are open, and I’m not sure if you write anything longer, but if you wrote something a little angsty for BrianxReader with inspo from “Sail Away Sweet Sister” I would die on the spot

A/N: have been meaning to write a full series based on this song (like sooooo sososo SO bad!) , but I don’t know man… anyway, I hope you enjoy this short piece! 

You watched the band come back from the stage into their dressing room. It had been too long since the last time you saw your brother and his bandmates.

Your studies swept you away from England as you studied natural wildlife in Greymouth, New Zealand on a scholarship you could not pass on.

It had been years, you heard of Roger’s success with his band and had your family send you their records but once you set foot back in England and now hearing the roar of the crowd you were made fully aware of how successful and famous his band actually was. Queen was huge. The boys were taking over the scene, and there you were at last.

Wearing a dark black pair of flared velvet pants and a white blouse, your almost new high heels still felt rough from lack of use, but you felt that you looked your best when you were comfortable.

Your breathing became irregular once you heard the voices coming from the hallway, Miami had helped you and your mother set this up so you could meet again and surprise your brother. And he was shocked when he entered the room, laughing and joking with Freddie as his eyes landed on you.

Your figure was so foreign to him now. Although you had sent photos, it was obvious that you were no longer the child that left the nest almost 5 years prior. He looked different too, his hair and his face…you were taken aback, somehow you felt he looked more than just five years older. 

Regardless of his sweaty figure, you opened your arms at him, excited to catch up and recover the connection you had and that couldn’t be fed through the mail. 

“Hey, stranger!” You pushed your dirty blond locks away from your face by tucking them behind your ears.

Roger pushed his palms against Deaky’s chest and left him to catch his bloody drumsticks when he rushed to wrap his arms around you.

“Y/N! Monkey!” He picked you up and spun you around. “Oh, I missed you.”

When your older brother put you down he stared at your face and held your hands in his sore ones.

“You look so…so different, Y/N!”

You giggled at this and brought your hand to his bleached hair, it was shorter than you remember it being before. Leaving London in 76, you guessed some things were bound to change. 

“You’re one to talk!” You mocked him, a hint of a kiwi accent coming through.

Roger rolled his eyes and put his arm around your shoulders, he pulled you to his side and kissed the top of your head as he faced his bandmates.

“I don’t think you remember Y/N,” he started, “she is my youngest sister, the one who actually went to school.”

“So not all Taylor’s are lost!” Deaky teased your brother.

As everyone came to say hi, you noticed Brian’s hand shaking when he took yours.

In fact, Brian remembered you. Back in the Smile days, you would sneak out of your parents’ home to go see Roger play. The only reason why you were ever even allowed inside the bars was that you were related to the drummer. Your fighting at the end of the night would be massive, messy, and even Brian has to admit hurtfully. Back then you were nothing but a child, at 14 you were still finding your place in the world…but now…

As Brian spoke to you he realised you did not just look like a woman, you were a young one now! His eyes kept going between your eyes to your lips, and to your cleavage. He couldn’t help it, last time he saw you, you were a little more than a child.

And Brian had always had something about him that made your heartbeat speed up, and your face become warm. 

As the night progressed you could see your brother getting more comfortable with sharing about his life with you. Now you were more grown up and he assumed you had a bit more experience, he did not mind talking about his ways with women.

“But I thought you had a girlfriend?” You muttered.

You shook your head and felt Roger’s arms shaking you by the shoulders.

“Tell us, Miss Kiwi, did you break too many hearts when you left?”

You blushed at your Brother’s question, as a matter of fact, you had to break up with your boyfriend before leaving. The young man insisted on marrying you, he wanted you to stay but you couldn’t just do that…you had your family to go back to! A whole life back in England.

“I guess…” you joked.

Roger cheered at this and clung his drink with yours.

“Wouldn’t be a Taylor if you didn’t!”

At the end of the night you were supposed to go home with Roger but of course, he was lost in the crowd with some girl. Already tired and bored with the amount of socialising required from you tonight, you looked for one of Roger’s friends to help. The easiest one to find was Brian due to his tall skinny figure. Finding him you tapped him on the shoulder as he leant on the bar talking to some girls.

The pair of blondes gave you daggers when Brian turned over his shoulder to see you.

You have a similar expression of discomfort to the one Roger has; your brows knitted together with doe eyes sunken and a slight pout on your lips that formed a straight line.

“Y/N, what is it?” Brian leant down so he could listen to you clearly.

“I…I think Rog is with a girl, and I need a ride home-well…to a hotel now, I guess.”

You waited for Brian’s response, he frowned and turned to the girls.

“Excuse me,” he apologised to them and turned to you, he placed his hand on your arm and pulled you away softly. “I thought you were staying with Rog.”

“I was!” You shrugged as you approached the entrance. “But he is with some girl…”

“You can stay at my place tonight.” Brian blinked a few times in a second. “No need to make it weird between siblings in the morning.”

You thanked him, grabbing his hand and squeezing it with a large smile on your face. After you both picked up your coats, you made your way out of the venue and Brian walked with you to his car, both of you surrounded by a small herd of bodyguards. You were surprised by the big changes since the days of playing in bars and getting beers as payment. 

You talked about your lives the past couple of years and chatted all the way to his place. You turned a little in the comfortable cream-coloured seat and watched Brian’s profile illuminated by the street lights. 

“What do you mean “you could really see the stars”? You can see them here just fine! Well, with proper equipment…”

You laughed at Brian’s outrage and explained to him that the shore was quiet and you had the chance of spending many nights there.

“Must have been lonely.” Brian pulled up in front of his house.

“Oh, I was rarely alone! My boyfriend was quite adventurous, he liked to tag along…”

“Well, don’t tell Roger that!”

You stepped out of Brian’s car and went inside his house once he opened the door for you.

“Well, it’s a lot better than that tiny apartment you used to rent! You lot have made it big, I see!” You scanned the house as you came in and watched Brian close the door and lock it, dropping his keys on a table near the entrance.

“You like this? Oh, you should see Freddie’s place!”

You smiled and chuckled, only imagining what things Freddie might actually have in his home. With that you turned and looked at Brian, it felt almost like it was the first time that night. Without the sound of music blasting in the background or a crowd around you; you could see that Brian looked less boyish now, he had grown up as your brother had. As all of you had. His jaw seemed stronger, covered in the shade of a beard, and his nose even longer, but his eyes remained gentle.

You pushed your hair behind your ears and looked away from him once you realised you had been staring and heard him call out your name wondering what you were thinking from across the hall.

“Nothing, nothing…” you covered your mouth with your hand. “Uhm…should I take the couch?”

Brian smiled and laughed at you, shaking his head.

“Of course not!” He patted your arm and made you follow him. “You can get the bed, my treat! Wait-“ he paused and smiled at the ground blinking repeatedly “that didn’t sound right… Sorry.”

You smiled and bit your lip, in secret you fed your childish crush on your older brother’s guitarist friend.

“I wouldn’t mind it honestly.” You blurted out before the words could be processed by your brain.

To cover it up a bit you laughed, but shut up, cursing at yourself in silence.

Brian led you to his room and walked in before you, he put out a shirt and some shorts for you to borrow, taking his own pyjamas before saying goodnight.

Although Brian had seen you in pictures Roger sometimes showed him, he hadn’t expected you would no longer be making silly jokes and commenting on things such as the colour of his socks. Answering back with flirtatious comments, swaying your hips as you walked with confidence, standing up straight to face anyone and everyone who came to talk to you. Yes, you were a lady alright; and still, you were his best friend’s little sister.

“Goodnight, I’ll be in the living room.” He announced, “in case you need anything.”

“I can take the sofa, really, I don’t mind.” You stopped him, grabbing his wrist.

His gaze fell on your tanned hand around his paler wrist, your lips parted as if you wanted to say something but you stopped yourself and waited for his eyes to come up to meet your e/c eyes. Once they did, you saw the same thing you had seen in his hazel eyes many years before when you confessed your feelings for him before accepting the scholarship. He had said he loved you “as a little sister” and that it would never change. It broke your young naive heart, but it also helped shape you into the person you became during the years you spent away.

“Goodnight,” Brian repeated.

You sighed and turned to him, placing a kiss on his cheek, for which he leant down.

It was after you changed and put your clothes on a neat pile of folded garments on the counter in his bathroom that you got under the covers of his comfortable bed. Trying to fall asleep you could not help but feel annoyed at how much you wanted to speak to Brian.

You huffed and turned on your side. He was still attractive and smart and sweet…and you were still Roger’s little sister. You groaned turning on your other side.

Brian had been so nice to that young 17 year old you, he encouraged you to study whatever you liked when Roger was too busy being the centre of attention. The talented drummer and amazing back-up singer. 

You remembered Brian’s words.

“I am flattered, and don’t get me wrong Y/N: I love you…just not the way you think you love me. You’re too young for that. And even if you weren’t, you must take the scholarship! It’ll be wonderful for you.”

You kicked the covers off and sat at the edge of the bed for a minute before calming down and wandering through the dark hallway. The only audible thing was the sound of your bare feet stepping on his cold marble floor.

“Bri?” Your voice came out soft and quiet.

You heard him hum in response and wrapped your arms around your own body at the sound, gentle and surprised. Brian sat up.

“What is it?” He cleaned his eyes from sleep and watched you.

In front of him, you were standing in his shirt and shorts looking nothing less than adorable. He gave you a toothy grin.

You came to stand closer to him, he had to throw his head back to see you as you stepped between his knees. With a soft smile, you reached in order to touch his nose with your index finger, dragging it along his cheek towards his ear and then back to his jaw.

“Brian, do you remember what you said to me before I left?”

He did. He had been thinking about it since he spotted you tonight.

“Has anything changed since?” You combed his curls with your fingers.

Brian smiled and grabbed your wrist, pulling your hand into his. You noticed his fingers are calloused. He kissed your open palm as he used to do when you were younger and staying over at his and the band’s place for tea instead of going back home to finish your homework.

“Everything changed.” He admitted. “You were not meant to come back.” 

You leant down and Brian’s nose grazed yours, his arms wrapped around your middle. 

“But I did.” You replied in a whisper.

For a moment it looked like you saying it was a relief to Brian. He turned his face against yours and pressed his nose against your cheek. You knew at that moment that it was both of you who had secretly remained hopeful that you would come back and that the feelings would be mutual. Now you did not know what to say, so you slid your hands out of his hair and cupped his cheeks, pulling him away only for a brief moment before you tried to kiss his lips. 

“Don’t….” Brian pulled away, regretting it in a matter of seconds. “Y/N,k you are still Y/N!”

Your hands fell off of him and you took a step back. He did not want you, he did not see you the way you saw him and it was wrong for you to keep feeding all of these idiotic feelings for a man who was so clearly not into you. 

“Still little, right? Forget it.” 

You rushed to leave him, running back to his bedroom feeling the sting of tears coming up your throat and threaten to come out. It seemed now like being a third wheel would have been a much better option.

[smolfangirl]

You should take it as a compliment and think about the consequence

I am super tired so here are the basics: The title is a little mix from Taylor Swift’s “Gorgeous”, the whole OS is not proofread and I want to thank @silveranchor for helping me figure the plot out and @huffletiika especially for Gastón’s opinion on Matteo’s appearance. Also, the basic idea comes from this post.

Matteo Balsano was mainly three things.

First, good-looking. The kind that filled Luna with rage and gave her the desire to melt into a puddle at his feet as soon as she set eyes on him. The kind with soft brown curls and chocolate eyes, along with a smile bright enough to count as a hazard. (Not for her eyes, but for her heart.)

Second, a snob. A true chico fresa. Damn, his attitude raised all flags, it crossed lines she never even knew existed. It made her lose her mind when he smirked at her, raised eyebrow and all, with this sophisticated audacity. Worse enough, he knew exactly she fought against windmills when she tried to ignore him or compete against this level of smugness.

But the worst? The worst thing was it also made him so much more attractive.

Lastly, and least, Matteo was not hers.

Luna had grown used to that. To the rush of blood and flustered cheeks and tight feelings in her chest. To the many, many daydreams involving him. She harvested these ideas as if they were precious seeds in her own little secret garden. These seeds never turned into anything, she knew that, they’d always died at the light of reality. Except for this one drunk night, but alcohol – no matter how sweet it tasted – killed plants, and this one dreamy plant was no difference.

Months after this incident, she stole a quick glance at him when he entered the room and turned away again. She chuckled at his comments and threw him off with a single sentence. In boring classes at university, she let her mind wander to a universe where he wanted her as much as she did. And it was enough to keep her happy.

Luna considered it a lucky coincidence that she saw him before training started. Running late, he hurried to his locker to put his skates on, hair slightly messy and breaths that came out as little pants. He barely noticed her. She, however, did. She noticed the glasses he threw into his backpack without a care, the way his hand ruffled through his curls in a rushed attempt to fix them and she noticed the stubbles on his cheeks, creating an illusion of shadows that hadn’t been there before.

It looked the hottest.

Her heart stopped for a moment. Then, the adrenaline pulsed through her veins like she went on a rollercoaster, but she forced herself to stay put until Matteo left again.

By the time she reached the rink, she felt stable enough to not swoon at his view.

“So”, Yam sat next to Luna on the bleachers, an expectant glimpse in her eyes that both confused and scared her. Training had been over long enough for the others to disappear, and Luna only wanted to send Matteo the song of their choreography like she’d promised.

“So what?”, she asked, attention still on the phone. The curiosity in Yam’s voice made her careful, and she’d learned the advantages of creating a quick distraction.

“How did you like Matteo’s beard?”

Luna huffed. “I wouldn’t call it a beard just because he didn’t shave for once.” Obviously, Yam refused to let this topic go yet. This girl showed a persistence that gave her songs their greatness and her designed outfits their beauty, but right now, it only gave Luna cold sweats. “I’ve seen the way you looked at him. Jim too, actually, I’m sure everyone saw it except for your chico fresa.”

“Well, he does look good with it”, Luna admitted, although it felt like the biggest understatement. Matteo didn’t look good, he looked gorgeous. As if he starred in a perfect romance movie, with a perfect girl and a perfect happy ending. Every time their eyes met during skating, Luna wished she was brave enough to lean forward and run his hand across his jaw, to explore the feeling the stubbles would give her.

Her hand clenched around her phone. By the stars, she wanted to shout at him for daring to be so stunning. For stealing her heart and her mind and her sanity.

“Just good?”, Yam countered.

“Ugh, okay, Matteo’s too much to handle”, her hand only increased its grip on her screen, a little more and she’d get a cramp, but she rambled on, overwhelmed by the hurricane inside her. “If he keeps growing it, I think I’d have to fuck him, someone needs to stop him from being so… so pretty.”

Yam stared at her. Chin pushed back a bit, shoulders straight and eyes solely focused on Luna as if she had told her a disturbing secret. Then, her expression softened, and she leaned against Luna’s shoulder. “You’re in deep, huh?”

Luna sighed. “Too deep. He just talks to me and my brain fries. At least he told me he has to study for his final exam, so I won’t see him the next days. I have no idea how I’d survive this beard phase otherwise.”  

“Luna’s in loooove”, Yam teased, a laugh so loud on her lips that she immediately got shushed. “Shh! Don’t scream this around, okay? If you tell anyone…”

“He might hear it and end your suffering?”

“Oh boy, I will never tell you anything ever again.”

16:05

1 audio message from Chica delivery

“If he keeps growing it, I think I’d have to fuck him, someone needs to stop him –“

Message received 16:05

Message played 16:18

It was way into the evening. Luna finished her assignments, read some parts of her class lecture and now laid on her bed, bra off and leggings on. The day ran through her head, classes, lunch in the university cafeteria, training, stubbles. Stubbles.

Matteo. The song!

Pausing the movie on her laptop, Luna jumped up to grab her phone. No missed messages, which surprised her. Usually, if she forgot something, Matteo wouldn’t let her live. (This cockiness. No wonder he managed to mess with her so well, he was a natural.)

That’s when she saw the voice message.

16:05, that was after training. But she felt certain she hadn’t send it to him over her embarrassing meltdown in front of Yam.

Frowning, she pressed Play. A few seconds later, pure horror filled her whole body.

22:25

1 message from Chica delivery

This voice message was an accident, I’m really sorry, I have no idea how this happened

Message received 22:26

Message read 22:33

The idiot didn’t answer.

He read her apology, and half an hour later, he still made no attempt at replying. No ‘It’s okay, don’t worry’, no teasing. Not even teasing!

Just silence in which Luna discovered her personal hell.

With every second that passed without a reply, she found herself closer to the edge. The ground under her feet crumbled away and the painful realization hit her that soon she’d be falling, no safety net attached, no control.

At least she hadn’t said his name – Luna had checked the audio multiple times. Hearing these words out of her mouth shocked herself, she didn’t dare to imagine Matteo’s reaction to them. How bad did it have to be that he didn’t text her, not even to ask who she was talking about?

Oh no.

Matteo was as smart as he was pretty. It was simply a matter of time until he figured it out.

If he hadn’t already.

By now, their friendship probably already belonged to the past.

“Ah, I see your shaver is still missing. Or do you still have no time to use it?”

“Cut it, I need your opinion on something important.” Matteo walked into the apartment of his best friend, not giving a single damn about how rude he might sound. This was an emergency, had been for two days, and he almost failed his exam because of this.  

“Is it about this dead animal in your face? Or whatever it is”, Gastón grinned. Matteo settled on sending him an annoyed look before he let himself fall onto the couch. “Just kidding”, his best friend said, “It really suits you, you look even more handsome than usual.”

“Thank you.” It sounded hoarse, the lack of sleep took its toll after all, besides he wasn’t really interested in what anyone thought about his beard. Except for one person.

“Okay, why do you need my help?” Gastón sat down. Instead of explaining, Matteo decided to just play the voice message. He still searched for the right answer, and Luna hadn’t texted him either, maybe too embarrassed, maybe even over this little incident already. Anyway, it was easy to find the message.

“If he keeps growing it, I think I’d have to fuck him, someone needs to stop him –“

Despite all the times Matteo listened to Luna’s voice, to her words, they caused a shiver on his spine. He never heard her talk like this before. Never. Call him naïve, he never thought she’d be capable of talking like this. After all, she was sweet little Luna, his little ray of sunshine.

Over and over again he pondered over the meaning of this. His head felt worn out from studying and internally arguing whether she meant him or not, the sleep deprivation didn’t help either. He needed Gastón to reach a conclusion.

“Why again did you two only made out once?”, said boy asked as a hint of annoyance slipped into his tone. “Oh, right, because you are like lesbian sheep incapable of making a move.”

For a painfully long moment, Matteo wondered if he a) fell asleep and ended up in a weird dream that felt way too realistic or b) Gastón went nuts in the few days they hadn’t seen each other.

“What?”

“I’m saying, don’t be a lesbian sheep! Make a move!” (He settled on option B.)

Matteo stared at his phone, the chat with Luna still open. His mind flew back, to this afternoon. They hadn’t talked much, less even compared to how much time they usually spent in each other’s company. And with a sense of shame he admitted to himself that he never considered it an option for her to be into someone. Someone that wasn’t him.

He put his phone away. “What if she’s not talking about me? I mean, it could be just wishful thinking.”

Gastón frowned, his usual expression when he disagreed with Matteo, and this time, Matteo couldn’t blame him. For Gastón, this seemed to be crystal-clear, there was no room on the picture in his mind for a cloud of doubts. “Even if it is, one look at you like this and she will jump you.”

“Dude.”

“I’m just saying!”

She made peace with herself.

Matteo had an important exam, and the last one of this semester at that, of course he didn’t answer. He simply was too busy.

That’s what she told herself, and if doubt tore these excuses apart, she slowly accepted the inevitable death of her dignity.

It was early Saturday morning, she watched Netflix in her pajamas and with enough ice cream for breakfast to freeze her brain. It was a good morning - until someone rang at her door.

It wasn’t just someone. When she opened the door, she found Matteo himself in front of her. With a three-day beard.

She couldn’t help but stare.

“… Fuck.” Although she never meant to, the word slipped. Her cheeks heated up, and she condemned herself for not putting a bra on before opening, or at least a bathrobe. Compared to him, in perfectly fitting jeans and a light blue shirt, she felt too vulnerable, naked.

Matteo raised one eyebrow, his face the picture-perfect definition of smugness and his voice carrying his question in a mix of sweetness and confidence that made her shiver. “Fuck you or fuck me, which one is it, Luna?”

She stepped back, arms crossed in front of her chest. His eyes followed her movement and she really, really wished she would have gotten dressed. It got worse when the space between them decreased as he closed the door behind him and walked in, only stopping at what wasn’t even an arm length in front of her. (Not even half an arm length.)

“No – nothing”, she whispered.

Her brain went through a short-circuit pretty much the moment she saw him – the ice cream freeze gave her the rest – and she both admired and hated Matteo for keeping his cool at the same time she was about to lose all self-control and jump him.

“Are you sure?”, he wanted to know, “Because from what I heard, and I quote…” She interrupted him before a single word she said in that awful record could leave his mouth. “Come on, I told you it was an accident!” A sigh hushed past her lips, it sounded too heavy for someone as young and cheerful as Luna. “I knew you’d be a fresa about it, I knew it, you are just unbelievable and I didn’t even tell you I was talking about you –“

For the second time this week, she froze. Blinked. Looked away only to steal a glimpse at him.

He grinned.

She looked away again. Her face felt hot, she’d bet he could cook an egg on her forehead now if he was hungry. Matteo looked hungry, sort of.

But not for eggs. Or anything else to be found in a kitchen.

He leaned in. His breath tickled her skin, he glanced down at her lips and at the same time she met his eyes, her knees began trembling. Before she could fall, his arms secured her, holding her. Instantly, she wrapped her own arms around his neck, almost casually stroking his jawline in the process.

It felt better than she ever imagined.

Her back hit something hard, the door, but it didn’t matter, because Matteo’s lips hovered over hers, too close to back away anytime soon.

Luna closed her eyes.

She didn’t daydream about being more than just a friend to him anymore.