#if someone told me three months ago that i would open instagram to see videos and pics of dead people
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ten-ge · 1 year ago
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it's seriously disturbing how "normal" it has become to open social media and see pictures and videos of dead people..
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graneymar · 2 years ago
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#1. NEYMAR: Bitter taste
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SUMMARY: You and Neymar have been dating for only a few months when there were rumours about you being on vacation with your ex.
WARNINGS: angst
PAIRING: Neymar x female reader
Neymars POV:
Impossible. This can't be real. She would never do that. She loves me. I kept looking at the pictures and videos Y/N's ex posted on instagram a few days ago. She told me she'd be on vacation with her mother, but seemingly my fans knew better. They found recent pictures of her and her ex in Malta. I couldn't take my eyes off those pictures and stories. Pictures and videos of them at the beach together, clubbing, hugging, even kissing. Of course these images went viral instantly. Everyone was talking about how the "former playboy" Neymar Jr. got cheated on himself this time. Some people called it my karma, saying I deserved it. Others wished Y/N death in the comment section. But me? I felt nothing, pure emptiness. No emotions, no feelings. No sadness, no anger, nothing. Looking at her in these photos, I couldn't even recognize her as the woman I loved so much. She seemed so different. Her facial expressions, her gestures, her whole behavior. Who is she? Have I been really giving my all to someone I didn't actually know at the end of the day?
"Sinto muito irmão", Cris, one of my closest friends, texted me [I'm very sorry, bro]. Obviously he heard about the news already. I didn't even have the power or nerve to respond.
I was sitting outside on the terrace. It was about 8pm and Y/N was supposed to get here in about two hours. In those eight months we were together we have never been apart from each other for so long. We always managed to at least see each other at the weekends. Now she has been gone for three weeks and to be honest, I didn't even want her to come back. Thinking about how jealous she always used to be, how scared she was of losing me, and now it was her I saw in the arms of someone else.
I walked around the apartment, trying to find something to distract myself. The bottle of red wine I planned to drink with Y/N tonight caught my eye finally. Sinking into the couch I opened the bottle and couldn't stop myself from taking one sip after another. My family and friends called and texted me non-stop, reaching out to make sure I was alright, but I didn't want to talk to anyone. I switched my phone off and continued gazing at the TV that wasn't even on. All I saw was my reflection, sitting on the couch with a bottle of wine in my hands. Like a damn fool.
Soon enough, the second bottle was opened and I started feeling a little tipsy. No, I can't be here when she arrives. I can not stand looking or talking to her now. "Hey Kylian, what's up? Wanna go out tonight?", I called him after switching on my phone again, ignoring all the messages and missed calls. "Do you really think it’s a good idea to go out clubbing? Y/N will be there soon, you should probably talk it out", he replied.
"This is exactly what I don’t want and need. I've been sitting here overthinking it all for hours now. I need some distraction." It was clear to me that Kylian wasn't thrilled, but in the end, he agreed to get some drinks with me.
Y/Ns POV:
I could barely hold back a squeal of happiness the moment I opened the door to Neymars house. Three weeks without him felt like a year to me. I never thought I would miss someone so much.
Why are all the lights turned off? Weird. I expected him to wait for me, but didn't think of anything bad as I assumed he probably fell asleep on the couch, but no, he didn't. The only thing I saw were two empty bottles of red wine and a third one open. I laughed to myself "He really couldn’t wait and got drunk before I even arrived, hm?" Being sure that he already dozed off in the bedroom, I entered quietly, only to find the room empty. I slowly started worrying. Where the hell was he? What was going on? Is this another one of his stupid pranks? I tried to switch on my phone to see if he texted me anything, but the battery was dead. As I was looking for a charger, I noticed a little note at the side of my bed and picked it up.
I hope you had a great vacation with (your ex's name). Pack your stuff and be gone by tomorrow morning.
What the fuck? Where did this come from? My heart was racing, I started panicking. "Come on, come on, come on", I said as I tried to turn on my phone once more. A sigh of relief escaped my lips when I finally was able to type in my code. I tried calling Neymar, but as expected, he didn't pick up. After the probably 7th call I decided to check if he posted something on his instagram story, revealing where he would be or what he was doing. He didn’t post anything, but Kylian did. He was out with Neymar, in some kind of club. Suddenly I got a text from my best friend. "Uhm, why is (your ex's name) posting pictures of you two together? Aren’t these old?" What did he do? I knew he never liked seeing Neymar and me together, but making up rumours?! For what? Did he really think I'd go back to him after he tried to destroy my relationship?
I searched (your ex's name) up on instagram and was in shock. He indeed posted pictures and videos of us together in Malta from a year ago. I scrolled through the comments. Some people were making of Neymar, saying he deserved to get played after everything he has allegedly done to women. But most of them wished me death, stating they expected me to cheat, I am so fake, I never loved Neymar but his money and fame only.
The tears started rolling down my cheeks as I sat down on the bed. How could he ever think I would actually cheat on him? Didn’t I show how much I loved him? Wasn’t I doing enough for him and our relationship? Glancing at the note he wrote once more, I shook my head. I wouldn’t just leave him like this. Not for some stupid cheating rumours.
Neymars POV:
I decided to spend the night at Kylians house, giving Y/N the opportunity to leave before I'd get home. Normally, going out with friends and drinking always distracted me for at least a few hours, but it didn’t help me at all last night. Quite the opposite even. My eyes were still red and puffy from all the crying. My throat was burning due to the amount of alcohol I drank.
Entering the house I could still smell her fragrance. I took a deep breath, knowing this was the last time I would be "that" close to her. Looking around I realised there really wasn’t any of her belongings, meaning she most probably read the note and left like I told her to. "Oh shit", I whispered to myself as I entered the living room, seeing the bottles of wine that left a disgusting smell. As a consequence of the heavy drinking from last night, I couldn’t stand to smell any form of alcohol, so I decided to spend some minutes on the terrace. To my surprise, the door stood open. I stepped out and saw Y/N sitting on the bench, drinking coffee. "What are you doing here?", I harshly asked, "I told you to leave by the morning."
"And you really think I would just leave you like that?" Her eyes were as red and puffy as mine. She looked like she hasn’t slept the whole night. My heart would actually break seeing her cry, especially knowing I was the reason, but this time I didn't even care. "Well, you really should since I fucking told you to." The tears in her eyes were forming again as she looked away from me. "Have you at least packed your bags?", I asked her. She shook her head from left to right. "Then I'm going to do it for you", I said going inside.
"Neymar", Y/N shouted following me. I opened the door to her closet and started taking her stuff out. "Can you at least hear me out? I just want to explain it all to you." I looked at her in disbelief and laughed sarcastically. "I don't need an explanation. Everything I need to know, I saw."
"But it isn’t true Neymar, I didn’t cheat on you." I let out an annoyed moan. "You want to tell me these pictures are photoshopped? You met him by accident and then decided to spend your vacation with him so you wouldn’t get bored with your mom? Honestly, just drop it. I don’t wanna hear shit from you." Watching her breaking down in tears made me swallow very hard, but I couldn’t give in, not after her cheating on me with her ex. "The pictures and videos he posted are old. It was on his birthday, last year."
"Mhm, and it’s just a coincidence you've been there on his birthday again right?"
"Actually, yes. You know he lives there. The year I've been with him I was there all the time. I even thought of moving there. Trust me, I don't give a damn about him anymore. I just fell in love with the island." We remained silent for a moment, while I continued to throw her belongings into a random suitcase I found. "I don't know how to prove it to you, Ney. I deleted all those pictures as soon as we got together. I can’t even show you they’re old." No response from me. "He always wanted to tear us apart because he knew you were the real reason I left him."
"Congratulations to him. He succeeded", I coldly replied. She took out her phone and started scrolling, "Here." From the corner of my eye, I saw her holding her phone up. "Y/N, I don't want to see anything. I don't even care anymore. We're done."
"But this is undeniable proof that he is lying", her voice got louder, which made me raise an eyebrow at her. "Undenibale proof you say, huh?" I took the phone out of her hand and saw her instagram story archive. The same pictures and videos he posted a few days ago. My heart stopped for a second when I saw the date. Over a year ago. Not even able to look at her, I handed her her phone back. I couldn’t say a word, I felt so stupid. "But if you wish for me to leave, I will", she broke the silence, ripping her stuff out of my hand, "I just wanted to let you know that I would never cheat on you and if you still decide to go separate ways, it’s okay. Just please know that I really do love you and could never do anything to hurt you." I watched her filling the suitcase with her clothes. "And for your future relationships, you should really consider talking to your girlfriend first before leaving her without even giving her a chance to explain herself", she somehow managed to say inbetween her sobs. "Y/N, baby…" I softly hugged her from behind and turned her around. She buried her face in my chest and started crying even harder. "I'm so sorry. I can’t believe I even thought you would do that to me. He just made everything seem so legit and real." We just stood there, no one saying a word until she calmed down a little. "I love you Neymar, I love you so much. How could you even believe it for a second?" she spoke up.
"I didn’t at first, but… what would you think? I knew you were actually there and all of a sudden these photos appear on his instagram. And it’s not even a year ago that you broke up with him. I was scared you could possibly go back." Y/N finally looked up, staring right into my eyes. "I love you, you idiot", she said before pecking my lips quickly. "I love you too." I wiped away her tears with my thumb. "How about we'll take a nap, order food later and watch some movies? I think none of us really slept this night." She yawned as she nodded. "Sounds good to me."
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milflewis · 1 year ago
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Please do more of the Yukierre fake dating AU, I'm quite invested now. (I am from that "they're looking at us" one)
prev fic.
They come out at pretty much the same time. It wasn’t planned.
Or, well, Yuki’s wasn’t planned. Pierre’s was — months upon months of Pierre talking to Lewis over the phone, early in the morning, sun just peeking over the tops of buildings, having seen the way his smile lived in the lines on his face in between drivers briefings and race weekends, the rainbow flag on his helmet then saying to the world something more than allyship; weeks and weeks of video chats with Sebastian, who never had all the answers, whose career both with and not with Redbull was so completely different from Pierre’s but whose advice was hoarded all the same.
Pierre had told all his family; not one by one individually but group by group. Not that he wasn’t straight, not that he was bisexual, but that he was coming out as not straight, coming out as bisexual.
He had let Alpine know a working week — five business days — before he announced it. “Give them time to react, to prepare, to strategise pr amongst themselves,” Lewis had said, eyes kind. “But not enough for them to really worry, not enough for them to do anything.”
The paddock had exploded, the media having a field day.
When Lewis had come out two years earlier, six months before he retired, the racing world cracked wide open. For all that there had been speculation over the years, a lot of it slimy and disingenious, based on his clothes and his proud support of anyone other and the gentle way he moved through the paddock, sparkling from ears to nose to fingers, it had still come as a surprise to many.
Most of the drivers had stood by him — or at the very least, not stood against him. Fernando’s reaction had made Pierre stop, unsure on how he thought he’d respond but knowing that he wouldn’t have guessed this.
Lewis had only laughed when being faced with the clip of Fernando giving out; his first race win in over a decade outshone by Lewis’s announcement, “Stop asking me about Lewis and penises. Who cares. I won, he lost, did you not see me win?”
Pierre is sure that it wasn't a coincidence that Sebastian turned up at the race following Lewis's coming out.
His coming out video had 4, 452, 981 more views than his retirement announcement. Both broke the internet; Formula One once again seeping into mainstream media.
A handful more drivers stood with Pierre when he eventually came out, a perfectly planned instagram post with a caption that had been edited and edited and edited.
The buzz of it all was finally dying down - Pierre being asked more racing questions than not - when Yuki, exhilarated and giddy and pink-cheeked, sweat damp under his eyes, straight from his second race win with Mercedes, said, unthinking to an inane fluff question about the dating, "Hmm? Yes. I was seeing someone, very casual, but no longer. He couldn't keep up with all the flights and countries! I understood him."
Yuki had even laughed after, moving away quickly to join Ted, eager to talk about the race, his pr attaché left pale behind him.
A lot of people had expected Yuki to shrug it off, say how difficult it is to filter questions through two languages and back again, especially right out of the car, to do another oh, sorry, sorry, it's like when I called Pierre a boyfriend or girlfriend years ago haha. A slip of the tongue.
Yuki had not meant to say it, that Pierre knows. He's sure he had stewed over it for weeks, angry with himself, frustrated at something so stupid. Pierre could picture the shape of his jaw, the tilt of his chin.
Yuki hadn't laughed it off - not that Pierre had thought he would. Yuki had never been one to blink first, to call chicken when he was still in the race.
One month and three weeks. That was the gap between them. Seven weeks. Close enough for people to joke - and not joke - about how maybe they were connected.
And it would've been - a joke that is - if Yuki had rolled his eyes and laughed when asked, a race later. But instead, he had stared the camera down, face blank, team coat sipped up to his throat, and said, "I am here to talk about the car. Not who is in my bed."
Or maybe, if Pierre is being honest with himself, which is something he tries to do nowadays, it wasn't because of Yuki and his refusal to play along with the media, maybe it was how Pierre went bright red, choking on his straw, and a little wide-eyed, when he was asked. The way his voice broke on Yuki's name as he tried to answer was equally as damning.
Turns out, having two drivers, who have a history together that fans already adore, especially when only one of them is regularly at the front, date is great for viewership. And Mercedes had been gathering pro-LGBTQ+ whatever sponsorships for a while now since Lewis, so they stood firm behind Yuki and pushed and pushed and pushed until Alpine agreed.
(The blurry photos from last year's end of season party where Pierre is helping Yuki up, hands on his waist, head bent low, and Yuki is looking up, face turned towards Pierre, and it looks like it's more than it is, more than just two friends, didn't help.)
And so, they fake date. Which is - fine, Pierre supposes. Except for the part that he's been in love with Yuki since Alpha Tauri - known it since that first year in Alpine - and Yuki, well, Yuki doesn't love him back, now does he?
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biggest-stupidhead · 4 years ago
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more modern au levi x reader!! is it okay where reader makes petra jealous???
Just a reminder: WE DO NOT CONDONE PETRA SLANDER IN THIS HOUSE!!!
with that said, I will write this heavily focused on Petra to make it a lil angsty, hope you enjoy!
Summary: Petra watches her ex fall for another
Word Count: 1.7K
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It had been two long years since Petra and Levi ended things. It wasn’t messy but it was painful, she had seen it coming from a mile away. He had grown just as distant as he had been when they first met. Staying late at work, texting her dryly, and using terrible excuses. Although she had known it was coming, she still was a wreck when he actually ended things. She spent the months following the break up drinking wine and crashing at Oluo’s place regularly. After two years she was finally feeling better, dare she say, ready to get back into the dating scene? Or at least that’s what she thought, she was scrolling through her instagram feed when she stumbled across Hange’s page. It was someone’s birthday, someone she wasn’t familiar with. 
A woman with bight eyes and an even brighter smile was in the center of the group photo. On her right was Levi, who had an arm thrown casually over her shoulder, the faintest trace of a smile on his lips. Petra pinched the screen to zoom into Levi’s side, where she saw a feminine hand on his waist. She stared stupidly at the image. She shouldn’t feel jealous, she had no right. It had been two long years since the break up. But the picture only dredged up old memories of times when she would hold Levi that same way. When that smile was directed to her. She then turned her attention to the caption, which read: 
Happy Birthday (Y/n)! 24 never looked so good!
She then scrolled through the comments, many of them consisted of birthday wishes and support. She lost interest when she didn’t see Levi’s username and instead went back to the collection of photos, three of them in all. The group one that she assumed had just been taken, the second one was a picture of Hange and you on the beach, Petra felt a involuntary wave of self consciousness wash over her at the site of you in a swim suite. The final picture was the one that hurt the most though, it seemed to be a very old picture of you, maybe from your early years in college? You were sitting on a couch with younger versions of Hange, Erwin, Levi, and Moblit. Levi’s arm was casually thrown over your shoulders. Why had he never mentioned you before? Were you the reason that they broke up? No Levi had assured her that it wasn’t like that, said he wasn’t seeing anyone else. She tried to stop herself from going down that rabbit hole, but she couldn’t seem to. Before she really knew what she was doing, she had clicked on your profile which she was almost disappointed to find as public. This meant that there was nothing stopping her from judging every perfect image that was posted, and to her pleasant surprise, there was only one photo of you and Levi. The photo was posted the week prior, the two of you were hiking in the mountains, the dusty trial behind you. Your face was flushed from the exertion of the climb, Levi seemed cool as a cucumber, his face blank and void of emotion. She scrolled through the post and found a video, the sound of your shoes crunching and Levi talking behind you were clear as day. 
“I mean come on, who uses fucking Lipton? Have some god damn class.” Levi spat, as you snorted in amusement. Petra found herself chuckling along with you at Levi’s little rant. She felt a rogue tear slide down her cheek when you showed the phone to Levi, who’s face fell from being mildly animated to apathetic once more. You cackled as he swiped the phone and the video ended abruptly. It was so innocent, it was clear from the rest of your page that you were a private person, much like Levi. With little indication that you were dating him, it left her wanting to know more. More about the girl that had taken her place, had managed to worm her way into Levi’s heart of stone and make herself comfortable. As soon as these thoughts crowded into her head, she deleted instagram all together and powered her phone down, determined to wipe her memory of the images she had seen. 
__
The music was a nice distraction from the awkwardness that hung in the air. You had arrived uncharacteristically early to Hange’s party, and consequently meeting a whole group of people that you had never met before. The new people were about your age, three young men and one stunning young woman. It was early fall and Hange’s annual bonfire bash as you all had dubbed the event. Basically you lit a massive fire, when you were younger it was your past assignments from your pervious school year, then it became just regular old wood. You tapped your finger against the cool beer bottle as you leaned up against the counter, the men were laughing obnoxiously as they dropped the alcohol that they’d brought into one of the many coolers. The woman was looking at you almost nervously, she seemed extremely on edge, shifting her weight back and forth, eyes wandering around the room in a jittery manner. You frowned, wondering what was bothering her, but ultimately deciding that it was not really your business. Erwin shimmied behind you, his hands on your shoulders as he slide past you into the kitchen. You caught his arm, clinging to his familiar presence. 
“Erwin.” you hissed as he stooped to reach your level. 
“Who are these people?” you asked as you held his bicep firmly in your grasp. He pulled away and looked at you with a confused expression. 
“You mean Levi didn’t tell you?” He said slowly, clearly he was unsure if it was his place to speak on the relationship between Levi and these people. 
“No....” You said carefully, not wanting to make Erwin uncomfortable. 
“Oh well they used to work in the same department before Levi switched.” He said, he looked over to the men and motioned for them to come over, they ambled over with curious expressions. 
“What’s up Erwin?” the dark haired man asked as he looked between the two of you. 
“Just thought I’d ought to introduce you to (Y/n) here, she’s an old friend of ours from high school.” Erwin explained, his hand still comfortingly placed on your mid back. You waved shyly and smiled at all of them, including the girl. 
“Pleasure to meet you.” The blonde with a ponytail said, outstretching his hand to shake yours. 
“I’m Eld, this is Gunther, Oluo, and that fine young lady over there is Petra.” He said, pointing at all of them respectively. 
“It’s so nice to meet you guys!” you said sweetly as you struck up a conversation with Oluo about what they thought about the department that they worked in. It didn’t go unnoticed that Petra remained nearly silent, her amber eyes wide and a bit fearful. When the interns arrived, the men were quick to go help them carry in the alcohol that they brought, leaving you and Petra alone in the kitchen. You cocked your head at her as you poured some pretzels into a large bowl. The warm glow of the setting sun cast a halo over her head and you couldn’t help but voice your admiration for her. 
“You’re really pretty.” you gushed as she blushed at your words and turned to look at you with wide eyes. 
“So are you...” She returned the compliment and you smiled, feeling more at ease now that the two of you were alone. 
“So how long have you known Hange?” You asked conversationally as you crumpled up the bag and tossed it into the trash. 
“Hm let’s see...about four years now?” She responded with a bit of a wistful tone. 
“Really? I’m surprised we haven’t met sooner!” you chuckled as the two of you opened a bottle of wine and poured it into two large glasses. The two of you strolled out into the bark yard, where Hange and Moblit were chucking large pallets of wood onto the fire pit. You and Petra sat down in two lawn chairs watching as Hange and Moblit bickered over if it was safe enough to light the fire with gasoline. 
“I am too, you seem....like a really nice girl.” Petra said a bit downcast as she looked deeply into her wine. 
“So do you! We should grab breakfast ooo or maybe even brunch sometime!” You said excitedly and Petra sat there in awe, wondering if there was even a mean bone in your body. Or if you had any clue that she had dated Levi. 
“Yeah...this is kind of random but...are you dating Levi?” She blurted out, her face turning to look at you with a flushed expression. You nodded nonchalantly and took another sip of your wine. 
“Yeah we just started dating about a year ago.” You said with a shrug, Petra inhaled, readying herself for the next words that would either make or break the future relationship between the two of you. 
“Did...you know we dated?” she said, cringing when the words left her mouth. She sounded crazy and she knew it, but she felt obligated to clear the air between you before it got bad. 
“Hm I think he mentioned it once or twice, and Hange told me about you when you first started dating.” You said looking up thoughtfully, your tone held no malice or any sign of ill will. 
“You’re not...” 
“Insecure? Nah, and don’t take that like I’m being cocky! I just mean that...” 
“No, no let’s just not do this. I’m sorry for bringing it up. God I’m such a bitch.” Petra went to stand and you followed her, catching her wrist. 
“It’s alright really, I don’t care about what happened between you and Levi. It’s frankly none of my business, I just...wanna be friends with you.” you smiled at her sheepishly as she looked at you with wide eyes. 
“Oh” She managed to say dumbly. 
“That is if you want to be friends.” You said, letting go of her hand and giving her some space. 
“Yeah...I think that I’d like that very much.” Petra said with a bright smile. 
__
In honor of Women’s History month, I couldn’t bare to write something that was a stereotypical jealous ex, so I did the next best thing and wrote this more geared towards the reader and Petra bringing each other up instead of tearing one another down. As someone who was apart of the fandom back in like 2014 I am way too familiar with writers turning Petra into a psycho bitch, and I don’t like that. SO I hope that this is good enough to fit the prompt! 
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lilysdaydreams · 4 years ago
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The Artist and The Musician
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→  I do not claim to know corpse- therefore please don’t think that this is what he would actually act like, or that any details about his life are actually true. this is fiction.
→ Pairing: Corpse Husband X Fem!Reader
→ Genre: Fluff.
→ Words: 5.6k
→ Request:  Hey! It’s me again lmao I was curious maybe like sykunno or raes little sister (like 2 or 3 years younger) meets the group and her and corpse just click. How would either of them react to them hearing the news that their little sis is dating corpse and like they’ve moved in together and everything idk I thought it’d be cute💛
→ Warnings: Swearing.
→ Authors Note: Its been a hard couple of weeks and im really sorry that this took so long to be done but depression rlly hit me and I could barely move myself. I hope you enjoy this, and if you do, please comment some words of encouragement or feedback 💛
→  if you have some spare change , consider buying me a coffee.
You sighed as you finally dropped the last box in your new room, stretching to get rid of the pains in your back. Grabbing your phone, you moved over to Sykkunos room, knocking before sticking your head in.
"You want subway?" you asked when he looked up from the computer. He nodded with a quick smile, and as you closed the door behind you, you could hear him talking to the stream, letting them know that it was just his sister. Quickly ordering on Ubereats, you slumped on the sofa, closing your eyes and resting for a bit.
You had decided to move in with Sykkuno a month ago, the same week you'd decided to drop out of college. It wasn't something your parents were happy with, but after seeing how big your art and business had gotten, they had let you drop out. You'd dropped out and moved to LA, moving into an apartment with Sykkuno since he had to leave the OTV house. Sykkuno had moved in a week earlier which was why his room and computer was all set up. You'd only moved in today, spending a few weeks at home with your parents before leaving for LA. Stretching, you grabbed your phone, checking how long it would be until the food came, and then clicking on Instagram. Your most recent post was of this morning, a photo of you sitting on top of half the boxes in your room, throwing a peace sign at the camera. Sykkuno had taken it for you, the whole process taking 10 minutes cuz you made him take it at 45 different angles. Scrolling through the comments, you liked a few, replying to the ones by your best friends.
@selinaissss: "HOW DARE YOU LOOK THIS PERFECT AT 8 IN THE MORNING????"
→ @junefarie: i look like a racoon dont u dare
@onlyalyssa: "we need a house tour"
→ @junefarie: bitch I dont even have a bed yet
You grabbed the subway order when the bell rang, saying a quick thank you to the delivery man. You left yours on the table, and went to Sykkunos room, yelling "Sykkuno catch!" before throwing it at him, giggling as he leapt forward from his chair to catch it. Closing the door softly behind you, you jumped onto the couch, sitting cross-legged, grabbing your sketchbook and pencils from your backpack and setting them on your lap. It was time to wind down a bit.
~
It was a week later and you had unpacked fully, now focusing more on creating new pieces of art for a shop update. You were also working on some designs specifically for shirts and hoodies. Sykkuno found you in front of your computer, blanket wrapped around you and glasses perched on your nose as you emailed the manufacturer you were working with for the hoodies.
"Un, y/n?" he said hesitantly knocking on the door. You spun around in your chair, raising your eyebrows at him. "What's up?"
He walked in, sitting down gingerly on the edge of the bed and you got your water from the table, taking a sip as you wait for him to talk.
"I um- You know how I- I play Among Us right?" he asked, scratching his neck.
You hummed in response, urging him on with a nod. Sykkuno was almost never this nervous around you. Most of the time, you guys talked normally, joking and teasing each other. For him to be stuttering around you, he must have been extremely nervous.
"Well, you know Rae right? She um, she asked me to make a lobby," he said, standing up and pacing now. You furrowed your brows, confused as to where this was going.
He was explaining what a lobby was (which what the fuck, you watched his streams, of course you knew what a lobby was, why was he explaining that) when you cut him off, getting up and grabbing his shoulders to stop him.
"Hey, what's wrong?" you asked, holding his shoulders with both your hands.
He sighed and slumped into you, his head coming to a rest on your shoulder.
"Rae asked me to make a lobby and it's the first time I've ever made one and I'm really nervous about it. I've already invited people, but um I was wondering if you wanted to join as well? I- It would help me to have you there." he muttered, the words muffled as he spoke into your shoulder.
"Me?" you asked, a little shocked because you had never played among us before.
He nodded against your shoulder.
"Um sure!" you said, wrapping your arms around his middle, "It'll be fun!"
"And hey," you added on when he didn't say anything after that, "I can meet all your friends as well!"
He finally lifted his head a little, smiling as he muttered out a quick "Thanks y/n."
"However," you added, jumping back onto your seat and wiggling your eyebrows at him. "You have to buy me pizza for tonight's dinner."
He chuckled, grabbing his phone and already mutterng the order to himself as he opened up the ubereats app and walked out of the room.
You turned back to the laptop humming a tune under your breath. From interactions like this, most people would probably assume that you were older but the truth was that Sykkuno was 5 years older than you. Your roles were reversed and you were probably more protective over him than anyone else. Once in high school a girl had called him cute and asked him for his number only to write it on the bathroom walls. After the first three prank calls, you'd taken the phone from him yelling at anyone who called that if they called again, that you'd personally track them down and shove a dildo up their ass.
Both of you had always been close, but with the amount of bullying and teasing he got in high school, you'd got even closer, eventually becoming his best friend in a way. Seeing Sykkuno grow as a person, get new friends who were genuinely nice and kind made you the happiest person alive. When Sykkuno had first started streaming you'd been worried, scared that people online would say something mean. When he had first started streaming with other streamers and then met Lily and all his other friends, you had been anxious, worrying that they might only be putting up a friendly facade. You were also the happiest though when he grew even closer to them, when he smiled more, laughed more, talked more.
You had yet to meet or talk to any of his friends, mostly because you'd been in college, and the pandemic had made it harder. Maybe it was finally time.
~
The day came and you sat in your room, once again a blanket wrapped around you, glasses perched on your nose as you accepted the discord invite Sykkuno sent you.
"DO I GO IN THE CHAT THINGY?" you yelled to Sykkuno, hearing a "YES" before clicking on the voice chat.
You mumbled a "hello", wondering if your mic was on.
"Hey, yeah I can hear you y/n."
Breathing a sigh of relief, you logged into the game, smiling as you heard sykkuno introduce you to his chat. "Hi everyone," you said, feeling a bit weird only talking to a screen. You rubbed your hands, a little nervous to be doing this.
Just then someone else joined and before you could even speak another three people joined as well, all of them yelling hello as they joined.
"He- Hey guys, how's everyone doing?" started sykkuno.
"Im doing great oh my god, guess what guys, I'm-" started Rae, cutting herself off. "wait, whos um "ms snores a lot"?
You were a bit confused for a second, furrowing you eyebrows for a second before realising what had happened.
"SYKKUNO YOU ASSHOLE WHAT THE FUCK?" you yelled, staring at the name underneath the voice channel that you now realised belonged to you. You could hear Sykkunos laughter from the other room but you just spluttered indignantly. He was the one who had set up everything on your computer yesterday because technology was something that you rarely messed around with.
"Sykkunooo" you whined, when he kept laughing, "How the fuck do I change it now?"
"Um wait, sykkuno who is this?" asked Rae, the other three echoing her. You glanced at the names and from the voices figured out that it was Rae, Toast, Sean and Corpse in the lobby.
"Hey okay, so guys this is my sister, her names y/n and we recently moved in together, so I asked her to be in the lobby because... um.." he said stuttering at the end to find a reason.
"Because he wanted to embarrass me apparently!" you exclaimed, giving him a way out.
"Oh god, um - you can change it in settings, at the bottom near where your name is."
"Ahhh," you said finding it and then simply typing in your art business name.
"Its nice to meet everyone by the way," you started. "I've been watching your videos for ages so it almost fels like I already know you"
Raes voice started in your ears and you winced at the volume befoe turning it down a bit.
"I would love to say that Sykkuno has told us a lot about you, but the truth is that he keeps a lot of secrets and I didnt even know he had a sister, I AM SO SHOCKED RIGHT NOW"
You gasped. "Sykkuno what the fuck, you didn't even tell Rae?"
"You told me not to tell a lot of people!" he protested.
You heard someone saying "they're so different!' but you ignored it and kept talking.
"Yeah at the start! and on stream! I can't believe you never even said you had a sister." you spluttered out, followed by another gasp.
"Are you embarrassed of me?" you whispered dramatically.
"N-What no of course not!" he exclaimed, and you could also imagine how wide his eyes would have gotten.
You giggled before telling him that you were only joking.
"Um since sykkuno is embarrassed of me," you said jokingly, "I'll just tell you myself."
"I'm like five years younger than sykkuno, I'm a June baby, I do art, my star sign is cancer, I'm 5'4, I recently moved in with sykkuno, and my favourite colour is purple!"
"Oh is that why your username is junefarie? Because you were born in June?" asked Sean.
Before you could say yes, someone else cut in.
"Wait, junefarie?" asked corpse, "like the artist?"
Your eyes widened as you realised that he knew you. Sure you had quite a few followers, but you never expected any of Sykkunos friends to know you from there.
"Um yeah," you said letting out a shocked laugh, "I didnt expect anyone here to know about me."
"Dude, your art is fire!" he exclaimed, voice louder now. "I was honestly thinking of buying a piece soon, I've followed you for ages!"
"Wait, I wanna see as well." whined Rae, "Ima look you up, are you on Instagram?"
"Um," you said still shocked by the fact that somone this big knew you. "yeah I'm on instagram, its just junefarie." you said first replying to Rae, "Um corpse, thankyou so much! thats so nice of yo!"
"Um my art isn't that great yet," you chuckled, embarrassed by all the attention now. "I'm hoping to improve a lot more and I have a bunch of ideas for it as well. I'm hoping to work more now that I moved in with Sy."
"Oh my god, this is amazing," whispered Rae, Toast and Sean echoing her. You ducked your head even though no one could see you. Your cheeks were blazing hot and you pressed your hands to them to cool yourself down.
"Thankyou," you mumbled, not sure what to say.
Someone else entered the lobby, and said "hi" and you welcomed the source of distraction.
"Hi! I'm Sykkunos sister, y/n!" you said , wanting to move away from the topic of your art.
The reply of "sykkuno has a SISTER?" made everyone laugh, successfully moving the attention to Sykkuno and off your art. Finally Sykkuno started the game and you breathed as you lost yourself in the art of gaming.
"OH MY GOD!" yelled Rae as the game ended and everyone appeared in the lobby. "That was like amazing, Y/N I cant belive you pulled that off!"
She was talking about the last game where there was 50/50 between corpse and Sykkuno (because you refused to kill sykkuno when you were imposter) and you somehow managed to convince Sykkuno that it was Corpse.
"Honestly, neither can I!" you exclaimed back staring at your screen, eyes blurring the screen because of how tired you were.
"I can't believe Sykkuno," mumbled corpse. "I literally said I saw her vent and kill toast and Sykkuno was still like "hmmm, I don't think so."
Giggling at Sykkunos yell of "SHES MY SISTER" you yelled out a bye as everyone started leaving and then struggled to find a way to end the call.
"Wait, how do I end it," you muttered to yourself.
You jumped as Corpse talked, not expecting anyone to be there.
"You can see yoru name at the bottom left right? Its above that but a little to the right." he said chucling a little.
"Oh." you said, you cheeks heating up. You didnt know if it was because of him or because you were utterly useless with technology.
"Um thankyou," you said awkwardly.
"No problem."
You exited out of the call, a small smile at your lips.
Sykkunos friends were nice.
~
After the stream, your fanbase grew, and with it, the number of orders as well. For the next week, you were buried under orders, only leaving the house to go to the post office.
An Instagram post on @junefarie account: 
[ID: A photo of y/n and sykkuno standing in the middle of the living room, packages scattered everywhere. Y/n is hugging Sykkuno tight and Sykkuno is staring at the camera, a distressed look on his face.]
Caption: Thankyou so much for all my supporters and all the love shown to me. Sending out loads of orders and I cant wait for you gusy to get yours! Special thanks to @sykkuno for helping me send out orders. luv yu.
Comments: 
@Sykisacutie: best sibling duo!
@valkyrae: hope my order is in their as well.
→ I SCREAMED WHEN SY TOLD ME THAT WAS YOUR NAME.
@corpse_husband: sykkuno looks like he's accepted death.
→ @sykkuno: I would have welcomed death at that point
→ @corpse_husband @sykkuno: okay ill be honest, I would have welcomed death as well.
@ariesin: go best friend, go! we need to get together to paint soon !!
→ SOONNNNNN
~
You flopped onto your bed, every part of your body hurting. Carrying boxes filled with orders down the stairs had tired your whole body, which wasn't used to any exercise at all. That had taken practically the whole day and then you had to clean your room because the mess from the orders had barely left any room to move. You flung your hand to the side, grabbing your phone from the table and bringing it up to your face. The "1:02" was clearly visible on your screen and you unlocked the phone, heading to Twitter. Scrolling through your feed, you liked a few tweets from friends before gearing yourself up and moving to the messages. Ever since you'd played with Corpse, Sykkuno and everyone, you'd been getting a lot of messages. Most of them were just the streamers fans, asking you if you know them or telling you to take care of sykkuno. There were a few though that targeted you, telling you that your art sucked, that they didn't know why Corpse could like my art. You'd taken to deleting them before sleeping so that your inbox wouldn't get cluttered and you could still find any serious requests or messages from your followers. Therefore, you didn't really think anything of it when there was another message from someone with a Corpse icon and you clicked on it only to see the message and gasp, immediately sitting up in bed.
Corpse_Husband → Hey, I was wondering if I could work with you on something? I really love your art and was wanting to commission or collaborate for an album cover or some merch designs. Message me on this number cuz I barely see my dms.
Underneath was a number.
"Oh my god," you whispered, unsure as to what to do.
When you had decided to drop out of college, you had expected hard days. You had expected your normal orders and mostly just improving your art and marketing it more. You had expected long days and not much money in the bank account. You certainly had not expected the immense amount of orders you'd gotten. Along with that, the amount of love and support had taken you by surprise and you had spent the last night crying because of how much love you and your art were getting.
You had also not expected such a big opportunity just landing at your feet.
Quickly you clicked on the number, putting it in your contacts with the name Corpse and then writing a quick message.
"Hey I got your twitter dm! I've personally never done art for merch or album covers but I would love the opportunity!"
You bit your lip, confused as to whether that was enough before deciding it was fine and just sent it.
Your heart beat a little faster as you slumped back onto the bed.
~
@junefarie Instagram story:
[ID: A zoomed-in picture of a drawing, the only part that was visible was curly hair. The text read: "Working on something SO COOL"]
~
Your phone was ringing. Stuffing the rest of the pizza in your mouth, you swept your hand over the covers of your bed, trying to find it. With a muttered "aha", you grabbed it and swiped on the call before it ended. Pressing the phone to your ear, you mumbled a "hello", still chewing the pizza bite.
A low rapsy voice came out of the speaker, one that you definitely didn't expect. You choked on the pizza, coughing out pieces onto the bed.  Sure you guys had messaged each other a bit (you kinda had to because of the commission), but you hadn't expected him to call out of nowhere.
"Um I hope this isn't a bad time," he said when you didn't respond for a second. Of course, he didn't exactly know that hearing his voice so close to your ear had you frozen for a second.
"Um no," you replied, coughing slightly to clear your throat. "It's fine! What did you wanna talk about?"
"Oh, um I know you're already working on the commission and its looking great! I can't wait to work with the merch team to create something really cool with it, but um-" he broke off for a second sounding hesitant. "I really wanna get another commission done as well."
"Oh?" you said after a second when he didn't reply. "I'd be happy to do another one for you!"
"Uh yeah, but I'm afraid that I might be a bit late, You see I was wondering if it could be done before Christmas?"
You sucked in a breath as you counted the days in your mind.
"Hmm, it depends on how big it is tbh. There's still 2 weeks to go till Christmas so I could fit it in," you mumbled, biting your lip as you remembered the onslaught of orders you still had to send out.
"Well," he started and you smiled a little as the excitement crept into his voice. "You know that Sykkuno, Rae, Toast and me are called the 4 Amigops right? I kinda wanted a portrait of all 4 of us, in our um among us colors, and I basically wanted to print it out and send to each of them for Christmas."
"Aww, that sounds like such a good idea, I'm sure they'll all love it!" you smiled, thinking about how much Sykkuno would appreciate that.
"Uh thanks," he mumbled, "do you think you can get it done?"
"Sure!" you replied immediately. You did have a lot of orders, yes, but like, you could fit Corpse in. If you pulled a few all-nighters. "I'll send you the sketches soon okay?"
"Oh thank god, thankyu so much for this y/n, I really appreciate it. Youre one of my favourite artists and I'm really happy that I could finally commisison you after so long."
"So long?" you questioned. "Since when have you known about my art?"
There was a moment of silence and then "Um, around the time you still posted your sketches and stuff I guess?"
You furrowed your eyebrows thinking for a second before letting out a gasp.
"Corpse that was 4 years ago!"
"Oh really?"
"Yeah, oh my god, I cant believe you've seen those, I was so bad then!"
"No no, they were really good at that time as well! I was so shocked when Sykkuno told us you were his sister because like, I'd been following you for ages and I had absolutely no idea. You guys are like really different."
"Hah yah, Sykkunos so soft, and then there's me. An actual devil."
"Your usernames so different as well! I remember when I first saw a picture of you on your account and I was kind of shocked because based on the name junefarie, I was expecting someone very soft I guess but then you were literally the opposite and wearing actual devil horns."
"Oh god, that was one of the first few photos I posted of myself. that was on Halloween I think,", you took a deep breath still shocked that Corpse had known about you for that long,
"Yeah, I chose junefarie because...”
It was 2 hours later when Corpse said that he should probably be working on his music.
"Oh I'm so sorry," you apologized, "I didn't mean to keep you,"
"Oh no, I um, I liked talking to you."
Your breath caught for a moment and you smiled like a lunatic at your Pokémon covered bedsheets.
"I liked talking to you as well," you whispered out, heart sinking a little as you realized the call would be ending soon.
"Um, do you, maybe want to stay on call? like I'll just be writing and we can just chill?" he asked and you felt like your prayers had been answered.
"yes" you said quickly, not giving him a chance to back out.
He chuckled, and you fell in love a little.
Just a little.
~
You continued like that, calling each other every few days, talking so much and then at times, not talking at all, simply content with each others company.
He had even started facetiming you, the first time with a mask and then the second without it. You hadn't made a big deal about it, but the first time you saw him, you could barely breathe.
There were five days left until Christmas when you got the idea.
You were entirely not subtle about it, because, well to be honest, there wasn't a subtle bone in your body.
"Hey Corpse, do you like surprises?" you had asked, in the middle of colouring Raes hair (her hair was the last thing left before you could finally print the goddamn thing)
"It depends," he had murmured after a second, voice sending shivers down your spine like every time. Now whether that was because of his voice or because of him, you weren't entirely sure.
"on what?" you prodded when he refused to answer.
"On whether its a good one or a bad one" he had huffed out.
You had hummed, waited for a second and then blurted out that next question because you did not have a cent of patience.
"So what are you doing at Christmas?"
"Sleeping, if I can manage it," he replied, his voice taking on a sardonic tone, eyes flicking to you on the screen. The only thing he could see though was the top of your head because you had your iPad on the bed and were laying over it as you drew.
"Not with that attitude you aren't," you replied right back, making a small smile appear across his face.
"Hmmm, okay!" you said when he didn't reply.
He looked back over, eyebrows furrowed and mouth opening as he started to question you.
"Hey did you see the video I sent you?" you quickly asked distracting him from his question.
He would probably guess the surprise but that was okay. You only wanted to make a smile appear on his face. And honestly, for someone with anxiety, a small warning of a surprise was definitely needed.
~
It was Christmas day and you woke Sykkuno up at 6 in the morning with the promise that you'd buy him McDonald's. 30 minutes later, you were both in the car, yelling the lyrics to "All I want for Christmas" at the top of your lungs.
You had told sykkuno of your plan a few days ago and he had smiled at you with that stupid smile, agreeing with a small "alright."
You'd immediately realised that he knew. Even though you pretended otherwise, Sykkuno was the older one and the thing about older siblings was that they always knew.
They always knew.
So there you were, snacks loaded into your car, McDonald's fries practically everywhere, and a cake you had made in the backseat, on your way to Corpses house.
There was a lull in the music, and you were only 30 minutes away from his place, butterflies fluttering in your stomach when Sykkuno asked you a question.
"You like him right?" he murmured, head leaning against the window, eyes closed.
There was a moment of silence as you thought about what to say. Did you like Corpse? Of course, you liked Corpse! He was funny, he was nice, he made you feel like you were the only person that mattered and your heart beat faster than ever whenever he looked at you. Hell, that was through a screen, in real life, it would probably be even worse. So of course you liked him! The question was, did he like you back?
"Yeah," you answered Sykkuno, eyes straight on the road.
A second passed and then he smiled. "Good," he replied. and well. That was that. You sighed.
At least you had your brothers blessing.
~
Pulling into the apartment building, you breathed in, your heart beating a million times a second and the butterflies in your stomach had turned into snakes. Maybe, maybe this wasn't a good idea at all. I mean, you expected Corpse to get the hint but what if he didn't? and what if he didn't want you to come? Maybe you were being too quick. After all, It'd only been a month since you'd met.
These thoughts plagued your mind as you trudged up the stairs, turning to Sykkuno as you reached the door.
"Maybe we shouldn't have come," you whispered to him.
He looked at you, eyebrows high, "We just travelled two hours to get here. There's no way im going back without at least giving him the print."
"What if he doesn't want us to be here?" you hissed.
"Then we'll go away." he stated, "after we give him the print."
"But what if-"
Before you could even finish your sentence, the door opened and you both jumped, turning to face the person standing in the doorway.
You forced yourself to breathe as you finally saw him. It was him. Wearing a black beanie, half his hair spilling out the sides, stubble clear on his chin... it was him. At that moment, there was only one thought in your mind.
You were gonna marry this man.
"You suck at whispering," he said, and you huffed out a laugh, jumping onto him without even responding. You wrapped your arms around him, not letting go until Sykkuno cleared his throat from behind you.
You turned back immediately, grabbing the stuff in Sykkunos hands so he could greet Corpse too. As they awkwardly did their handshake/fistbump thing, you walked over to the couch behind them, putting down the print and the takeaway bags, and putting the cakebox down on the table.
You turned around to see them both standing there staring at you.
"Surprise?" you said when no one else spoke. That broke the ice a little and you grabbed the print from the couch thrusting it at Corpse.
"Open it. Open it. Open it." you mumbled, your heart beating fast as he carefully ripped the paper off. The smile that overtook his face made your heart immediately calm.
"It's beautiful," he whispered, eyes roaming everywhere, trying to take it all in. Clearing his throat, he nodded his head further into the apartment, mumbling that he was going to put it in the room, eyes still on the print as he walked there.
"You smile is gonna blind me," muttered Sykkuno.
"Oh shut up."
~
A few hours later, you stood in the kitchen, putting the leftover cake into Corpses fridge. You had all chilled, eating cake and the takeout that you and sykkuno had bought, laughing every few minutes. It felt like you were all on an adrenaline rush. You had facetimed Rae and Toast, Rae shrieking when she realised where you guys were. Sykkuno had just fallen into a nap, still tired from being wakened up so early, you assumed.
You leaned against the kitchen bench, smiling as Corpse walked in.
"Thankyou." he said as he came to a stop next to you, matching your position.
"For what?" you mused, even though you had a good enough idea.
"For the print. For coming here. For making my Christmas, a much happier affair than it has been my whole life." he stated, chuckling at the last point.
You turned your head sideways, and you didn't know what it was, but something about his face made you spurn into action. You grabbed his collar, pulled him down, and kissed him before he could even say anything. It would be too cliche to say that fireworks erupted. And if you were being honest they didn't. Instead, it felt like everything was finally right. You fit perfectly in his arms as they wrapped themselves around you, and you smiled into the kiss as he lifted you up, making you sit at the counter. You twirled the hair at the nape of his neck with your left hand, taking a deep breath in as you both slowed down and pulled away.
"Well," he whispered, "that was unexpected."
You raised a single eyebrow. Honesty you'd done a lot for this relationship. You just drove for nearly 3 hours! If he wanted it to progress, he was gonna have to say it himself.
"But not unwelcome," he continued when you didn't speak. A moment passed, where you could see that he was psyching himself up to say something. Finally, with a heaving sigh, he whispered  "Darling, would you do me the honour of being called yours?"
You melted right there.
A nod was all he needed before he grabbed your lips with his again, both of you giggling when he accidentally hit the side of your mouth instead of the lips.
The sound of a picture being taken filled the air, making you spring apart and swing your heads over to the doorway, which had sykkuno leaning against it, his phone in his hand.
"Thank god. Rae and Toast bet that you wouldn't confess until after Christmas, so now they both owe me 20 bucks." he said, now fiddling on the phone. "Dont worry Corpse, I'll add a circle over your face or something."
Your mouth dropped open as you stared at your brother.
"You bet on my love life?" you scoffed, still shocked.
At his nod though, you swung off the bench, marching until you were eye to eye to him.
"I want half the winnings."
Rolling his eyes, he turned back to the living room, jumping onto the sofa.
"C'mon, let's watch one more episode before heading back," he said and you jumped in next to him, patting the space next to you as Corpse came in behind you.
You grabbed Sykkunos hand and squeezed it, letting him know that you were grateful that he didn't make it such a big deal. Leaning your head on corpses shoulder, you smiled to yourself.
You'd have to leave in 30 minutes, to drive back to your parents and spend the rest of Christmas with them, leaving Corpse behind. And that made you a bit sad sure, but it couldn't overpower the feeling of pure happiness at being here. At giving him a happier Christmas. You smiled as he pressed a kiss to the top of your head.
Nothing could overpower this feeling of absolute happiness.
fin.
Corpse husband taglist:  @mythicalamphitrite @ramble-writes @atsumubabe @anxiouskat5646 @itssierramcquade @xaestheticalien @jotaroslightning @starstruckllamapuppy @gxldenskiez @shinyshimaagain @cavanana @fee-btheweeb (send an ask to be added!)
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lightsovermonaco · 4 years ago
Text
His Good Sweater: Chapter 11 (NSFW)
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Masterlist
IT’S THE MOMENT YOU’VE BEEN WAITING FOR BESTIES! Thanks as always to @acollectionofficsandshit I think I broke her with this chapter! She also found  the song for this chapter so special thanks for that as well ❤
Word Count: 7.6k
Recommended song: “The Man Who Can’t be Moved” by the Script
The steam of the shower cleanses your senses and washes away the sweat from your workout. Crisp September air rushes through the open window and raises goosebumps on your skin as you step out. You turn off the tap and wrap yourself in a fluffy towel in an attempt to ward off the chill. A glance at the clock tells you that you have a half hour to get ready before your date picks you up.
Peter was one of the few guys in your major that paid you any attention. Most of them tolerated you at best but it had never bothered you. You were independent enough that you could make it through class on your own and google what you didn’t understand afterward and learn it before the exam.
It had been fairly easy to fall in with Peter and a few others during the first few weeks of summer classes. What began with group study sessions and quickly developed into hanging out one on one with Peter on the weekends to go to coffee shops or play video games.
When Peter had asked you out two months ago, Pierre's voice nagged in the back of your head. He asked if you were ready to move on from him and if you could really forget him.
The simple answer was no, forgetting him was impossible. No matter how many years passed, he would always own a part of you. 
Peter was sweet and he cared about you but you were quickly realizing the bond you shared with him didn't run as deep as it had with Pierre. He started as your friend and you really didn't feel right letting it develop past that. Although you had agreed to that date and plenty more in the time since, it still didn’t feel like a relationship. You had to stop yourself from imagining someone else's arm around you when you lounged on the sofa or someone else's lips kissing you goodnight.
You slip into a form fitting red cocktail dress and sweep your hair over a shoulder, banishing the memory. The person staring back at you in the mirror is a stranger, a ghost of who you once were. You pull your lips into a smile nowhere near as bright as it was months ago.
A knock on your apartment door startles you from your trance. Peter holds a bouquet of flowers, a broad grin on his face. He was handsome in a traditional sense, with a sharp jawline and playful forest green eyes that promised a good time. He was adventurous; a night in wasn’t in the cards. Everything was an event with him and you didn’t mind the distractions one bit.
"You look amazing as always," he says, stepping inside and kissing your cheek. You sniff the flowers lightly. Daisies were some of your least favorite flowers but the gesture was too sweet to point that out.
"So do you," you respond, gaze sweeping from his scuffed wingtip shoes to his crisp blue button down shirt. Ocean blue, washed out against Peter's pale skin, but would have looked perfect on Pierre's golden complexion.
You had to stop thinking about him. You saw him everywhere. On more than one occasion, you dropped out of a conversation when you caught a glimpse of blond hair bobbing through a crowd or heard a laugh startlingly similar to his. You couldn’t escape the idea of him whether you liked it or not.
"Are you okay?" Peter asks, touching your elbow.
God, you were so far from okay. Your mind was a melted mess of memories of a blond Frenchman and all the broken promises between the pair of you. This was pointless. You were wasting your time with Peter. He was great and should have been everything you wanted but he just wasn't enough.
"I'm so sorry," you start, handing back the flowers. "I don't think this is going to work."
"Oh thank god," he says, shoulders drooping as he runs a hand through his hair. "I've been thinking the same thing, I just didn't want to be the one to say it." You both laugh, the tension ebbing from your frame.
"Don't get me wrong," he continues, "You're amazing. There's just no…"
"Spark," you finish. "Yeah, I agree. Friends?"
You stick out your hand and he shakes it firmly. "Sounds like a plan. No hard feelings. See you in class on Monday?"
"I'll be there."
You slip out of your heels with a sigh, glad you don't have to endure that form of torture any longer. For the first time in months, you allow yourself to scroll through Pierre's Instagram.
Instead of being flooded with personal pictures it had become mostly posed shoots.it was the kind of thing that seemed staged, like he was only posted because his PR team deemed it necessary.
As time went on the content became more and more clinical. He was giving fans less of an insight into his personal life and focusing on racing content. You knew he had probably thrown everything he had into the season in an attempt to move on and you couldn't blame him. 
If his Insta was to be believed, he had earned a handful of podiums in the four months since you had mostly lost interest in the sport. After Austin it had been nearly impossible to watch a full race and you had instead been getting your biased updates from Max, who conveniently left out all but the barest details of anyone’s race weekend but his own.
There was no point in trying to convince yourself you no longer felt anything for Pierre. Just scrolling through his page reignites the flame in your chest that had been burning far too dimly for far too long. 
Heart pounding, you double tap a photoset of him modeling for Alpha Tauri, the lighting accenting his eyes. Their distinct, rich blue had always been your weakness. 
Your fingers find their way to the charm at your throat. You hadn't taken it off once since the gala. It was pointless to deny the sway he still held over you all these months later. Maybe it was time you stopped pretending you were fine and finally give in to the pull. 
The past few months have given you plenty of time to reflect. The media would hound you like dogs but at least while you were in London they would leave your family alone. And really, enduring their scrutiny was a small price to pay if it meant loving Pierre.  
“I’m an idiot,” you mumble, pulling up his contact in your phone. Breaking up with him had been the dumbest decision of your life. You’d watched him from afar as he traveled from grand prix to grand prix, touring cities and sleeping everywhere except where he belonged: curled up next to you in your tiny London flat, whispering sweet nothings in your ear until you both fell asleep.
You couldn’t bear it any longer. Fuck what anyone would say. Nothing could be worse than knowing your soulmate was out there and you let him go.
Heart pounding, you type out a text. I miss you.
Shaking your head, you erase it. How are you? Seemed more appropriate.
"Here goes nothing," you murmur and hit send.
**********
 It started off as any other free Sunday did: Charles and Charlotte arriving at his apartment carrying snacks and beer which neither of them would tell their trainers about tomorrow and plopping in front of the television to watch the PSG match.
The trio roared at the screen at poor calls and yelled when a goal was scored, all completely lost in the sport.
Pierre absently registers his phone buzzing during the last few minutes of the match but ignores it. PSG comes out on top and he finally checks it, nearly choking on the pretzels he was eating.
How are you?
Pierre has to read it thrice before he’s convinced it’s real. 
"Holy fuck," he says softly, tipping the phone so Charles can see. 
"Told you mate." He takes Charlotte's hand and stands. Football match completely forgotten, Pierre lifts a hand in a wave as the couple leaves. His eyes are fixed on the screen as he tries to comprehend the gravity your words carry.
After months of waiting in agony and wondering if you still cared, you’d texted him.
He had no idea how he managed to keep his feet on the floor. He was completely weightless, reading your message over and over again until it sinks in.
He takes the three simple words as permission to finally delve back into your life, immediately scrolling through your instagram to catch up. He double taps every post save for the ones with you and some tall, handsome guy. His stomach twists. 
Fuck it. Even if you just wanted to catch up, he'd take it. If you told him you were with someone else and you were happy, he'd learn to live with it. He was starved of you and was prepared to beg for crumbs of your life.
I'm fine. You have time for a phone call?
It was a leap but he acknowledged and accepted the risks.
Yeah. That would be good.
You pick up on the second ring.
"Hey."
Pierre squeezes his eyes shut, pushing back the lump in his throat. Years of memories rush over him in the space of a breath. The shock in your voice when you found out he was a driver for the first time. Your smile and breathless laugh when you met him in the garage in Brazil after his first podium in Formula 1. The tentative glances he had thrown your way for months after he finally accepted that he had begun to fall for you. The way your velvet lips felt when he made a gamble and kissed you for the first time. The drunken lilt of your voice when you told him you loved him that night in London.
Before he can stop it the bad comes rushing back too. The memory of the terror on your face when he let it slip that you were together sends a chill through him. If there was one moment he could change, it wouldn’t be the time he fucked up and lost his seat at Red Bull. It would be to keep his damned mouth shut at that karting track and preserve the bliss of that day and tuck it away in a bulletproof case that he could pull out and look at whenever he wanted.
"Hey you," he manages, silently thanking whoever is listening that he keeps the tremble out of his voice. "Been awhile."
"Yeah," you say sheepishly. "Sorry about that."
"You don't have anything to apologize for," he says quickly. "You never need to apologize to me."
You were the last one that needed to apologize for anything. He should be the one beginning for forgiveness. It was his fault you’d panicked. He should have fought harder for you, proved that he could make it work and save you both from months of heartache. But then again, maybe you had moved on. He couldn’t expect you to wait for him forever.
He doesn’t realize he’s been silent for so long until you clear your throat. For the first time he can recall, the silence is thick and heavy with unspoken words. It had always been effortless, the stories and words flowing like a babbling brook between the two of you. Now the confessions on his tongue remain poised there, too terrified to give them the light of day. 
"How's your season been?" He’s thankful you break the quiet first but the question makes his stomach sink. 
"You haven't been watching?"
"Not really."
"Oh." It made sense that you would distance yourself from him and that was fine, but he couldn’t pretend it didn’t hurt. "It's been decent. Red Bull wants me to come to Milton for contract discussions this week, actually."
"You're moving back up?"
"Potentially." Horner had only called him earlier that week to discuss the potential of him returning to Red Bull next year. The informal agreement was that if he could make seventh in the championship in a midfield car, they would bump him back for the following season. 
It wasn’t a concrete guarantee- that’s why Horner wanted to speak with him in person. He had a year left in his contract and being in a Red Bull meant he would be able to prove his worth to other teams and potentially secure a world championship worthy seat at a team that actually appreciated his talent.
He draws a breath before continuing, "I'll be in London on Monday. You know- if you wanna get together."
You stay silent for a touch too long and he panics. It was too soon. He should have kept his mouth shut because now he’d driven you away again. “Nevermind, forget I said anything-"
"No," you interrupt, "no, I'd love to see you and catch up. I don't have classes on Tuesdays. Have any free time then?"
His eyes slide shut and he exhales. The flack he would undoubtedly catch for shuffling around a few interviews would be worth it to see you. "Yeah. I can swing by your apartment around seven?"
"Okay," you say, a touch of excitement lacing your voice. "I'll make myself presentable."
"I-" he stops himself before the words can slip past his lips. "I'll see you then."
*********
Pierre blows out a breath and adjusts his backpack. He stands at the threshold of your building, keys in hand, unsure if he should let himself in. The dilemma had kept him rooted to the spot for nearly ten minutes now, weighing the pros and cons of his options. 
“Hey you, blond fucker.” Pierre whips around and is met by Daniel’s girlfriend glaring up at him from the sidewalk. She tips her head to the side to study him. Apparently he wasn’t the only one that had to cancel plans to be here tonight. “You gonna grow a pair and go up there or just keep staring at the door all day?”
“I’m going,” he grumbles, “are you?”
“Oh, I was going to but clearly whatever you have planned is more important.” Her grin splits her face ear to ear. “About damn time she got ahold of you. I was getting sick of listening to her gripe about you twenty four seven.”
“Didn’t she tell you I was coming by? If you guys have plans I can come back later.”
She waves a hand and dismisses the offer. “Absolutely not. Go get your girl.”
“She’s not-” The glare she cuts him snatches the words from his mouth. She makes a shooing motion before setting off down the sidewalk, munching on whatever snacks were in her shopping bag.
Pierre shakes out his hands and tries to gather the courage to use his key. The hopeless romantic argued that you would expect him to use it because you would know he still had it. The rational side of him butts in to point out that it might catch you off guard if he showed up without warning. He settles on buzzing your unit, your answer fuzzy from the distortion.
"Pierre?"
Even with the warbly static in your voice, his name on your lips is the salvation he’s been dreaming about for months. "Yeah it's me."
"Don't you have a key?"
"I wasn't sure if I should use it."
You don't answer, instead letting the buzz of the electronic lock do the talking. He takes the stairs three at a time, barely winded by the time he reaches the third floor. He doesn't even have to knock, your door swinging open as he steps up. The sight of you knocks the breath from his lungs. 
It didn't matter that you were in a simple hoodie and jeans, feet bare and hair swept back in a low bun. You are the most beautiful person he's ever seen and after months apart he nearly falls to his knees then and there to beg for your forgiveness, to get lost in you until two souls became one and he never had to live another second apart from you.
"Are you gonna stand there or do you wanna come in?"
God, he had missed your teasing jabs. His fingers ache for contact with your soft skin and he curls them into a fist to resist the urge. “Coming in,” he says softly, purposefully brushing your arm as he skirts past you. Every inch of him sings from the barely there touch, his soul aching for more.
Just stepping foot into your quaint flat has the weight he had been carrying on his chest for months beginning to ease up. Nothing beat the elation of being back where he belonged, not even spraying champagne from the top step on a podium.
Determined not to scare you off before he could have a proper conversation with you, Pierre opts for falling into the same humor you had used earlier. The corners of his mouth twitch upward. "Is that takeout I smell?" 
You nod, your cheeks turning a pale pink. “I got you two orders of beef lo mein. I figured you might be hungry.”
As if summoned, his stomach growls. “Yeah. I haven’t eaten since breakfast."
“Figures,” you say, eyes glinting with mischief as you settle into the plush carpet and pull a takeout box towards you. "I got it from that place across town, the one you liked best." Pierre perches on the edge of the sofa and snags the plastic tray with his name on it, eyes never leaving yours.
Now that you were mere feet from him he found it increasingly difficult to deny himself the relief of kissing you here and now. He wanted to trace his thumb over your lips before replacing it with his own, to slot his mouth over yours until time was nothing and he was no one other than yours.
You clear your throat and drop his gaze first, sending him crashing back to reality. “So, ninth huh? Glad to see you cracked the top ten.”
Pierre scrunches his nose and spears a piece of broccoli. He was shit with chopsticks but you always got a kick out of him fumbling with them. “Not where I’d like to be but I’ll take it. Horner took notice obviously, but I’m not getting my hopes up.”
“I think an invitation to Milton Keynes is enough reason to hope," you say around a mouthful of sticky rice.
This interaction was reason to hope. The fact that you were once again on speaking terms, that things were finally returning to some semblance of normal, was enough for him to believe that one day everything would be back to how it was before. That maybe, just maybe, he could hold you in his arms again and fall asleep to the soundtrack of your heart beating in his ear. 
Remembering the guy from your instagram, he scans the room for any sign of a male companion. Finding none, he asks, “How’s your boyfriend?”
It probably would have been a good idea to go about this particular line of questioning with a bit more tact. Inquiring so blatantly betrayed his inner thoughts, laid all his cards on the table. He didn't have it in him to care, not when his world might be turned upside down by your answer.
“Oh, you mean Peter?” You sip your water, seemingly working up the courage to explain. Each moment that the silence dragged on it became more of a physical monster. Pierre could feel it growing until it threatened to sink his claws in him and drag him deeper into the pits of his insecurity.
“If that’s his name, yeah.” Pierre braces himself for whatever comes next, reminding himself to be happy for you no matter what you choose. It would take time but he could put aside what he still felt for you and learn to accept your choice if it meant staying in your life.
You shake your head. “He’s a friend from uni. He’s not my boyfriend. At least not anymore.”
“Oh,” he says, frowning down at his food to cover the way his heart skips. “But he was?”
He had expected you to move on, if he was being honest. No way in hell did you deserve to be as miserable as he had been since you'd left- you deserved all the happiness he couldn't seem to give you and more. And if someone else had been the one to grant you that happiness, he should thank them. 
“For a little while,” you say softly, like it would cushion the blow. “It didn’t feel right.”
He was familiar with that feeling. Nothing he did felt right after the break up. Just about the only thing that kept him sane was telling himself that you’d come to your senses sooner or later.
And now that he was here, his world was beginning to right itself.
“Earth to Pierre,” you say teasingly, waving a hand in front of his face.
“Sorry,” he says sheepishly. “I just- I’ve missed this,” he says, picking at his food.
“What, eating subpar takeout in my tiny apartment?” You laugh and stuff another bite in your mouth. God, you could be so oblivious. It was one of the many things he adored about you. 
“I do. I miss doing anything that involves you, actually.”
There it was. His heart laid bare before you for the second time, waiting to see how you would respond. You set down your chopsticks and wipe your lips. His eyes track their movement as you whisper, “I’ve missed you too.”
Four syllables and he melts. It takes all he has to keep himself from sobbing with relief. It was everything he had come here hoping to hear. He couldn’t endure this again, couldn’t lose you for a second time-
“Don’t say that unless you mean it,” he pleads, body thrumming with the need to wrap you in his arms. “Don’t put me through this again unless you’re here to stay.”
He wasn't strong enough to tell you to stop. He would let you wreck him and he would be completely powerless to stop it. He would welcome it if it meant you granting him a sliver of your time. It would ruin him for anyone else but he didn’t have it in him to turn you away.
You rise to your feet and pad around the low table until you’re standing knee to knee, his neck craned up to study your face. You just keep looking at him, the leash on his carefully controlled restraint slipping as he rambles, “Because I can’t take it if you leave me again, I won’t-”
You simply nod, as if that’s all the answer he should need. But it’s not enough. “Tell me,” he pleads. “Tell me you mean it.”
He didn’t care that he was begging. He didn’t care that you had reduced his normally impenetrably stoic mentality to a jumble of you. If he was being honest with himself, you were the light of his life, the reason he pushed so hard for results on track. Everything had gone black and white when you left and racing had been the only thing keeping him from falling apart at the seams. The need to make you proud still propelled him forward even if he'd had no idea if you still cared.
So no, he didn’t care at all that he was practically on his knees. He would grovel at your feet for his entire life if it meant you’d grant him one more day to be with you.
“I mean it,” you murmur and place a hand on his cheek. He draws a shaky breath, leaning into you. Home, home, home, his head screams, acutely aware of every square inch of contact between the two of you.
“I’ve had plenty of time to think about it, and I’ve finally come to terms with it- your lifestyle. If I love you, I have to accept it being public. I have to build myself a shelter to withstand the storm, but I’ll make it big enough for two.”
It takes everything in him to keep from crushing you to his chest and never letting go. He had to ask, had to be certain beyond the shadow of a doubt that it was forever. “Promise me you won’t leave again if things get hard. Promise me we’ll get through whatever they throw at us together.”
“I promise. I’m not afraid anymore,” you murmur. Pierre’s head falls forward to rest on your hip bone, your fingers threading in his hair. “Daniel’s girlfriend helped me see that it doesn’t matter what anyone says. You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me. I haven't been the same since I…”
“Neither have I.” His thumb winds under your shirt to sweep over your soft skin. “You’re safe with me, you know that right? I can protect you from whatever they say and you’re right, it doesn’t matter. The only thing that matters is this-” he finally lets himself look up at you- “what we have. I’ve never stopped loving you, not once.”
Your smile is soft and tentative as you climb into his lap. His hands slide up your sides to pull you closer, refusing to let an inch separate you now that you’d bridged the gap. “I promise I’m not going anywhere. I learned my lesson.”
You lean down to ghost your lips over his brow, his closed eyelids, his nose. He can feel himself reconstructing under your touch, that final piece of the puzzle clicking home after being lost for so long. “I promise that I’m yours until the last star falls from the sky.”
He had lost four months of time with you. He wouldn't allow another second to slip through his fingers. 
Anticipating his movements, you meet him halfway. Fireworks explode as his lips finally return home and his world is finally, finally righted. Your nails scratch lightly at the nape of his neck, drawing him impossibly closer as your body moulds against his. He had nearly forgotten how perfectly your curves fit against him after all this time. He was determined to memorize every mountain and valley of you by the night's end.
His hands grip your thighs and he stands. Your arms automatically wind around his neck to keep from falling. He carries you to the kitchen and sets you on the edge of the island, never breaking the kiss. Nothing mattered outside of this apartment; not his career, not any baseless gossip, nothing existed beyond the space where your skin met his.
Pierre pulls back long enough to remove his shirt. Your fingers dance over his skin, relearning the planes of his chest like you had all the time in the world. And you did; he would stay here as long as you let him, reveling in the way you drank up every inch of his body like it was the first time you’d seen it.
“I love you,” you say as he kisses along your jaw.
How many times had he dreamt of you whispering that to him the past four months? How many times had it echoed in his head before a race, taunting him? He could scarcely believe his mind wasn’t playing more tricks on him now. He had to be certain it was real.
“Say it again,” he breathes. “Please. Please, tell me again.”
“I love you,” you repeat, punctuating each word with a kiss. “I love you Pierre, my champion, my heart, my everything.”
Pierre groans against your mouth, knotting his fingers in your hair and tugging your head back to expose your throat. He nips at the soft skin, not caring that he was leaving a trail of tiny marks in his wake. His focus was entirely on the gasps he was dragging from you with each touch, your heels digging into his ass and begging for him to be closer.
"My sweet, kindhearted man," you continue breathlessly. He didn't know if the words were for your benefit or his. "My best friend. My one and only love."
In that moment, you could ask him to bring you a star from the midnight sky and he wouldn't stop until he found a way to make it happen. You could ask for his last dollar and he would hand it to you with a smile on his face, completely enthralled with the way his name sounds on your tongue, professing that you still wanted him as much as he wanted you.
You were his undoing.
“Off,” he growls, tugging at your sweatshirt. You obey instantly and fling it aside, neither of you caring when dishes clatter to the tile floor and undoubtedly break. Your jeans follow suit after he helps you slip out of them. He runs his fingers over the delicate black lace of your bra and panties and pauses to appreciate that you knew exactly where the night would lead.
His cock twitches as you reach between your bodies to run a knuckle over his clothed length. “Your turn.” You undo the button with practiced ease, taking your sweet time as his breath comes in ragged gasps. He’d had a taste of you and hadn’t forgotten how you’d felt around him. He needed you more than he needed the air he breathed, his desperation taking over as he swats your hand aside and strips off his jeans and boxers himself.
He drops to his knees and grips your thighs, pulling you forward until your center is inches from his face. The yelp that escapes you is intoxicating, your hands flying back to catch yourself. His teeth sink none too gently into the flesh of your thigh and he’s rewarded with a moan before he flicks his tongue over the hurt.
Your head falls back and Pierre places one of your legs over his shoulder. “Mon amour,” he purrs, garnering your attention. Your head lolls forward and he waits until you meet his gaze to speak again. “You know I love you, right?”
“I never doubted it,” you confirm, lips curling in a smile. “But why don’t you prove it to me again?”
He pulls your panties aside and blows lightly. You groan, thighs tensing under his fingers as your toes curl and he chuckles. “Sounds like a challenge.”
“Do you really want to tease me?”
“What I want,” he says sharply, “is to have you moaning my name until it's the only word you know.” His tongue flicks out to dance over your thigh, dangerously close to where he knows you want him. “What I want is to make up for lost time.” He rips through the thin lace of your panties and lets the ruined scraps fall to the floor.
“Those were expensive.”
“I’ll buy you new ones.”
He would buy you an entire lingerie store if he could rip every set of it off you. He didn’t care how much it costed, it was never too much when it came to you.
“What I want most, my love,” he murmurs, smiling when his hot breath curls over your dripping cunt and you squirm, “is to forget everything else and stay here forever.”
You cry out when his tongue finally flicks through your folds. Pierre hums approvingly at your reaction, one arm snaking up to pin your hips in place. He sucks lightly at your clit and your fingers tangle in his hair.
“P-Pierre,” you breathe. He pulls back and you whine at the loss of contact. He grins up at you, the wickedness of it dragging the moan from your lips that he was after. He was drunk on the sound, desperate to hear it again and again.
“There’s my good girl.” He runs his tongue flat over your sex, savoring the taste as you squirm under him. You let out a choked noise when he repeats the motion before fucking you with his tongue, his nose hitting your clit with each stroke.
He doesn’t miss the way your lip wobbles and Pierre knows you’re ready to cry with frustration. He decides he’s tortured you enough for now and relents, putting two fingers in his mouth to wet them before plunging them inside you.
His mouth is spelling his name on your clit a moment later, your walls already clamping down on his fingers as your orgasm nears. In the handful of times he’d taken you to bed, he had already learned that when your head rolls back like that and your breathing stops, you’re seconds away from climaxing. He doesn’t let up until you’re shaking beneath him, finally slowing to work you through your orgasm without making you hypersensitive.
“Baby,” you groan breathlessly. Pierre slowly withdraws his fingers and wipes them on his thigh before pressing a final, tender kiss to your center that makes you jump.
“Use my name,” he demands, uncoiling to his full height. He grips your wrist and hauls your boneless body up, wrapping his other arm around your shoulders to keep you upright.
“Pierre,” you murmur and he grinds his hips against you in approval. He captures your mouth with his, taking advantage of your hazy mind to lazily explore it. 
You hum into the kiss, managing to wrap your arms around his neck and pull him closer. Suddenly the column of your neck is all he can think about and he wraps a hand around it, squeezing with enough force that you pull back with a gasp.
“Too much?” He murmurs, lessening his grip. Your brows knit together and your lower lips juts out, begging for him to take it between his teeth. He leans in and gives in to the impulse as he swipes his thumb under your jaw.
“Tell me if you want my hand on your throat, my love. I need to hear you say it.”
“Please,” you say finally. Your eyes are cloudy when they meet his. “Keep it there.”
He shows his approval in the form of a light squeeze. You angle your hips up, nudging his cock with your center. You reach a hand down to wrap around his shaft and drag the head through your folds, teasing him as he had done to you. The grip on your throat tightens to a point bordering blissfully between pain and pleasure, both a warning and an order to continue. 
If you knew how close he was to flipping you on your stomach and slamming into you, you’d call him crazy. Or maybe you’d like it, judging by the way your head falls back as he rocks his hips and inches into you.
You both moan when he decides the time for restraint has passed and he slams into you. You lift your hips to meet his with every thrust, clearly missing this just as much as he had. God, he’d lost months of fucking you, of feeling you clench around him and writhe beneath him. If he could stay like this forever he would, his hand around your neck and cock splitting you open as he laps up your moans like sweet candy.
“I’m- Pierre,” you squeak out, and he knows you’re barreling towards your second orgasm of the night. He pulls you up by your neck until you’re eye to eye and forced to look at him.
“Come for me,” he whispers, slamming into you again and again. “Come on my cock mon amour and I might just cum inside you.”
His words are your undoing, pleasure rippling from you in waves as your mouth falls open in a silent plea. He grants you no clemency as your cunt twitches around him, instead following through on his promise and following your lead.
You pants mix with his own as he struggles to keep both of you upright, his knees turned to jelly. Your head rests on his shoulder and he presses a kiss to your temple, slowly pulling out of you. A pitiful whimper escapes your throat involuntarily.
“I know,” Pierre murmurs, reaching over to start the kitchen sink. He wets a clean cloth and runs it between your legs, still supporting you as he doesn’t trust that your legs won't give out if he doesn’t. When it’s clear you can barely form a coherent thought, he scoops you in his arms and carries you to your room. He nudges the bathroom door open with his hip and sets you on the vanity.
The absence of his body heat makes you shiver when he goes to turn on the shower, adjusting the knobs until he’s satisfied with the temperature. He gathers you in his arms and steps into the tub, your sigh audible as the warm water hits your skin.
“Can you stand?” he murmurs before kissing your temple. You nod against his chest and he sets you down, keeping his hands on your waist just in case. You’re thankful for it when your knees wobble, a hand flying out to steady yourself.
“I’m okay,” you say after a beat and grin up at him. “I can stand, promise.”
“That doesn’t mean I’m taking my hands off you,” he says, grinning right back. “At least not for long.” He reaches over your shoulder for the shampoo and gestures for you to turn around. You obey, tipping your head back to wet your hair. A blissful sigh escapes you when his fingers meet your scalp, the cherry blossom scent blooming in the air as he works it into a lather.
Taking care of you was just as satisfying as the sex was. He cherished the intimacy of taking this small burden from your shoulders. The seemingly simple task was one of deep seated trust and it proved to him that your love ran bone deep. There was a level of trust in you letting him wash you that he didn't want to have with anyone else. It was reserved for you and you alone.
“Close your eyes,” he warns before guiding your head back under the water for a rinse. He cups a hand to your forehead to keep the soap from your eyes. Your smile is soft but unrestrained as you lean further into him until your back is pressed to his chest.
You both stay silent as he runs the creamy conditioner through the ends of your hair. His hand cups your jaw and tips your head back for a lazy kiss before he rinses that too and cuts the tap.
Once you're wrapped in a fuzzy white towel he finally dries himself off, fighting off a chill. He doesn't realize you're watching him until he turns around and notices you standing in the doorway.
"What?"
You push off the wall and pad back to where he stands to wrap your arms around his middle. His thumb traces patterns on your shoulder, perfectly content to stand there dripping on the tile until morning. 
When it's clear you're lost in thought he speaks up. "What's on your mind?"
"When did you know you loved me?"
"Like the exact moment?" He asks, caught off guard. You nod against his chest.
"When you visited me in Milan last summer," he says a few heartbeats later. That night insisted on making guacamole at two in the morning and woke me up because you couldn't find a lime. You told me you couldn't sleep because it was all you could think about after you saw that couple at the cafe eating it."
"Why then?"
"Because I knew I didn't have a lime but I was fully prepared to knock on every door in the building to find you one. Because in that moment all that mattered was seeing your face light up when I handed it to you and knowing that it was me that made you smile like that. I knew then that I’d do anything for you."
It still amazed him how a lime of all things was the tipping point. In that moment, a lime was important to you and it so naturally became important to him. If anyone else had woken him from his deep sleep he would have grumbled and told them off. But you, seeing your face inches from his, the light from the hall casting a warm halo around your frame as you whispered his name, he hadn’t cared at all.
"But then I found the juice in the fridge," you recall and glance up at him.
"Yeah, you did. And you felt so bad for waking me up- you had no idea that I had already fallen so hard that I had to keep myself from shutting you up with a kiss.”
The easy admission seems to stir something in you and you rise up on your tiptoes to press your lips to his. “I knew that time you sent food to my dorm at midnight when I was pulling an all nighter. I was studying for my calculus final, remember?”
Pierre nods. “I was in Barcelona. You weren’t answering your phone so I sent a message with the takeout guy.” He had been wholly enamored with you at that point, having quickly learned that trying to keep his feelings buried deep was an option that would never work. So he leaned into it, letting little bits of it shine through in hopes that you might pick up on it.
Your laugh rumbles through him. “It was the most thoughtful thing anyone had ever done for me. I hadn’t eaten all day. I was too nervous.”
“Took us long enough to figure it out didn’t it?” He untangles himself from you and leads you to bed.
“I’m just glad we did eventually.” You let him guide you to the mattress while he stays standing and goes to your closet. He hunts for the shirt he wants to see you in, praying you hadn’t gotten rid of it. He finally finds it tucked back in the corner and pulls it out, the cobalt blue fabric a little faded from how often you’d worn it over the years.
“I remember that,” you say softly as he returns with it and slips it over your head. 
It was the first shirt he had ever gotten upon entering Formula 1 and somehow you had wound up snagging it from his closet while he cleaned up the mess in the kitchen during that same trip to Milan. He had choked on his guac when you reappeared wearing it, eyes lingering on the Torro Rosso logo on the chest and his name splayed across your back like a claiming.
"I don't have sweatpants for you anymore," you point out with an apologetic wince. "I got rid of them."
Pierre just shrugs and hands you the shirt. "I have a change of clothes in my backpack. I was planning on working out to blow off some steam if…"
He trails off and you nod in silent acknowledgement. He didn’t have to voice the thought, you were already in his head and knew exactly what he meant. Unable to help himself, he kisses your head just because he can before retrieving his bag from the kitchen. "I have something for you," he says and lets the towel around his waist drop.
You let out a low whistle and grin at him as your eyes slide over every inch of his body. He takes more time than necessary to pull out his shorts, appreciating your gaze. You're still watching him as he slips them on and brings his bag to you.
"Do you wanna see what I got you or are you gonna stare at me all night?"
"I think I'll stare."
Pierre rolls his eyes and chuckles, plopping down next to you. "Close your eyes and hold out your hands."
You do as he asks but not before cocking a brow at him. Knowing the sound of the package will give it away, he does his best to draw out the first item as quietly as he can. The second he sets it in your hands a smile splits your face. He'd tear down the energy station with his bare hands to keep that expression on your face.
"It's candy." Your eyes open and you gasp. "Laffy taffy? But you can only get this-"
"In the states," He finishes. “I got as much as the store had.” The chewy, fruity candy was your absolute favorite and every once in a while you craved it. His backpack was currently stuffed full of it and various other packages of sweets, having been collected at every gp he had been to since Austin.
You tear into the package and dig for a pink one. You hold it out to him triumphantly and somehow, it’s that simple gesture that makes him melt. “You like the strawberry ones don’t you?”
“Yes baby, I do.” He lets you pop the sweet in his mouth - Pyry would certainly not approve- and grins at you. “If you eat too many before bed you won’t be able to sleep.”
“It’s still early,” you point out but don’t hesitate to set the sweets aside and cuddle up to him when he lays back. “Got somewhere to be?”
“I have to be at Milton by eight,” he says, wrapping an arm around your middle. “But you’re coming with me.”
@seasidetom @flashcal @limp-wrist-max @sunshinesewis @lifeofzoemichael @ninuffi @perfectfantasies22 @lamboleglerg @ladyperceval @0forgottenparadise0 @evie-pr @avsensio @ninuffi @ricciartodododo​ 
If you have asked to be tagged in the past and I missed you I apologize! Just comment below and I’ll get you added for future updates. Thanks for reading ❤
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finishingflight · 2 years ago
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I think I wrote and rewrote my caption for my Instagram post with this video several times. When it comes to paragliding I often feel out of place with my own opinions and thoughts. So I feel more uncomfortable putting them out there. Instead I’m going to write it here.
In this moment I felt like I couldn’t get my heart rate to slow down. I was working on taking deep and slow breaths. I checked all my gear over and over. I almost backed out of launching. I’m glad I didn’t but I sure learned a lot about myself. I didn’t really relax and have my heart rate slow until I was standing with my feet on the ground in the valley below.
The Owens Valley has a valid reputation in the free flight community. It has big violent thermals, dust devils ripping across the valley where you land and plenty of turbulent conditions that requires a high level of expertise to navigate. When I was here two months ago, to watch a Hike and Fly race, one of the competitors broke his pelvis after some weird air caught his wing and it collapsed about 30-40’ off the ground. The way people talk about flying in the Owens borderlines between concern for people underestimating it and gate keeping.
In all reality though with research safe flying can be done for beginners and low hour pilots. Conditions are typically mellower in the morning or in the late afternoon when it’s cooler. Midday is when things get rowdy.
I had being the retrieve driver for three more experienced pilots on Saturday. All three talked about strong 8m/s climbs and sink, and their whole flight requiring active flying to keep their wings open and flying. Two reported having such strong surges that their wing ended up in front of them instead of over their heads. In comparison the strongest lift I have experienced is closer to 3-4m/s with an average being around 2m/s.
So when I got the opportunity to fly on Sunday I was apprehensive. Eric reassured me that I had the skills to fly the conditions and that if do fine. When I woke up I could feel the heat beating through the tent at 6:30a. Then everyone seemed slow moving so we didn’t get to launch until 10. Which was later than we had planned on. When we got there we found a bunch of Hang gliders setting up, covering the whole launch area except for a tiny area right at the edge. They were nice and tried to move out of our way but their wings are massive and need the space.
I could tell I had barely enough room to lay out my glider. I felt nervous about it. With a launch like that sometimes it’s hard to get the wing up because at the angle there isn’t much wind on the ground where the glider is, but stronger wind once it gets up. I was going to have to step back, off the edge and onto the steep slope to inflate and then try and not get plucked before turning and going. If anything went wrong I most likely was going to get my paraglider tangled up in someone’s hang glider. Which I didn’t want.
Yet the launch was beautiful. It felt solid and I was told it was a great looking launch. Normally I settle fast and relax once I’m in the air. This flight was not one of those. I immediately started climbing up in lift and didn’t have to search for it. Which normally I’d be thrilled in. But I found myself afraid to turn and thermal up. When I got out in front with a clear view of landing areas, I did force myself to start thermalling up telling myself I was being ridiculous.
Slowly I started being able to see a favorite hiking trail pop up, and lakes I was familiar with. Langley and Whitney were in clear view and I could see more and more the higher I got. Somewhere right below 13,000 I started feeling the effects of not drinking enough water over the past few days and ended up deciding to push out and follow the range down. I could have easily cruised around Whitney and other peaks but found myself still worried and afraid that some strong 8m/s thermal was lurking on a spine or peak. Since it was approaching 11am I decided it would be better to just land.
I had a nice decent and a great landing. I almost laughed at myself after touching the ground. I had been so stressed and nothing I had felt had been outside of my skill level. I had done my research and flew within my capabilities. I just really think that the words and fears of other pilots creeped into my head and took hold.
Next time I won’t be so worried about the looming fear and gatekeeping by the community. This isn’t saying I don’t have a crazy amount of respect and caution for flying this valley, because that will always be there. But next time I won’t be so worried about my morning flights before it gets too rowdy.
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alienaiver · 3 years ago
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Half the Battle, pt. 1
Kuroo Tetsurou x gn!reader
find part two here!
warnings: slight angst about childhood/parents fighting/divorce, one (1) bottle of wine is opened, someone is betrayed in Mario Party, NOT beta-read! apologize for any mistakes! (lmk if there’s any warnings i missed!)
wordcount: 5.5k
content: soulmate AU, mild angst, fluff, post-timeskip but slight canon divergence (i haven’t read the manga yet so this is loosely based off of their canon timeskip lives), gender neutral reader, reader is a video editor, reader is bad at eye contact but the details as to why are vague/up for interpretation!
notes: this was made for @gg9183 ​ ‘s wonderful birthday event, a soulmate collab! (go read the other wonderful works!) happy birthday once again, gray!! this was meant to be a 2k one shot but.... plans and inspiration changes sometimes, right? 🥺 so this ended up as a 5k part ONE lmfao i hope thats alright w u!!! part2 will be up asap, i promise!! i hope you enjoy this!!!! 
—————————
Not meeting his soulmate was fine, Kuroo often found himself thinking. The odds of finding your soulmate’s way too low to be realistic anyways, he supported the thought. It’s illogical to spend so much time fretting about it, he finally added for good measure.
Soulmates were a natural part of life, always had been. But with the big wide world filled with over seven billion people, meeting yours wasn’t completely unheard of. But given the powers of soulmates even existing, it wasn’t unrealistic to also believe that some kind of fate would pull you towards each other throughout your lives so that you would meet each other. Kuroo however, prided himself in not caring about soulmates. His life was rich enough. People explaining their feelings about “something being missing until they finally meet them” was incomprehensible to him.
Kuroo had lived for 29 years without being able to see color. And you know what? His life was damn well fulfilling enough. He had a beautiful apartment, an economy that flourished, an adorable cat named Cucumber and good people around him. What would he really need a soulmate for? He could ignore his friends comments on how wonderful the world was in color, if only he would just start looking for his soulmate, how much meaning it gave life. Just because the people in his closest circle had all magically met theirs – not to mention how many of them had already met in Goddamn high school, Kuroo scoffed and was always able to move on.
Even though a lot of people actively made eye contact with everyone they met, even people on the street, to make sure they would meet their soulmate, Kuroo kept his eyes down. He wasn’t insecure, come on, he was perfectly happy! He just didn’t need to be late for a meeting because he got eye contact with some stranger, you know?
His life was in perfect balance as is.. Until yesterday, of course. It had turned out there was mold in his apartment complex so they had to evict it for a month while a crew would go through everything to remove it. He didn’t want to go to his mother’s place, that was too far from his work, but he wasn’t in the mood for a hotel, that was way too expensive, so he turned to his best friend of many years with the biggest set of puppy eyes he could muster and the prospect of making every dinner while he lived there.
“Fine… but don’t get in the way,” was all Kenma had to say.
And so Kuroo spent his last weekend in his own apartment packing things down to make it accessible to the cleaning crew. Cucumber hated other cats with a passion so he couldn’t bring him to Kenma’s, where three cats already happily lived, so his mother would pick him up tomorrow afternoon.
__
He sat on his couch, scrolling his phone mindlessly with Cucumber on his lap who had been stressed with all the packing down, sensing something was up. He was being extra cuddly towards Kuroo who, honestly? Didn’t mind at all. He loved when Cucumber was in mood for cuddles, though it wasn’t very often. He had been told his cat was orange and while he didn’t have a measure for what that color actually looked like, he was happy with his gray cat.
His mother was supposed to arrive any minute now, so he should have gotten up and put the cat in his carrier but it was easier to get him in it if you had two pair of hands. He scrolled through Instagram, reaching a photo put up by Tsukishima of his soulmate, the light-haired manager of their high school volleyball club, with a tooth-eating grin on her face and proudly showing off a ring on her finger, the caption said, This smile makes me wanna brag. Kuroo could physically hear the provocative tone of his voice, knowing he was one of the first in his circle of friends to actually plan a wedding. Kuroo clicked his tongue with a smile on his face and double-tapped to like the picture.
He didn’t know if it was the combination of that post and the fact that his mother was on her way but memories of his parent’s wedding flooded his mind. For a lot of people, weddings felt obsolete in the face of the whole “you already got your soulmate and you know this” thing, so a lot of couples were happy not getting married but just being together. But there was also the benefits of marriage in the practical sense, so some people did anyways, some hosting parties, some not. His parents weren’t married when he came to, but after he turned five they decided to do it so he would be protected by both of them, in case of any emergency.
It had been a small wedding, only the closest family and friends but Kuroo was vivid, so excited about being part of that whole romantic ordeal, even helping his mom find a dress and everything. He had been a huge and important part of the wedding – if he did say so himself. Everyone had been glowing at the day, the food was delicious, there was laughter, song and cheers and everyone had brought so many presents – even some for little Tetsurou, who had been very excited about his new train tracks.
But when Kuroo was seven years old, it wasn’t as romantic anymore. His parents were fighting a lot, he wasn’t entirely sure why or about what because they would never tell him about it, no matter how much he asked. When he tried to listen in, the words he heard didn’t explain anything to him because even though they were yelling at each other, the important words were always whispered, as if they knew Kuroo was listening in.
When he was eight his mom had come into his room, hugged him and with tears in her eyes and said that they were going to move away.
“Where are we going?” he asked simply, no emotion to be read on his little face. He was exhausted from his parents being this way – they were soulmates, right? Why did they fight like that?
“To Tokyo, just you and me, my love.”
That’s when he met Kenma. He had been very closed-off and shy back when they met, he reminisced. He had been a regular kid when he was younger but the way his parents split up – his soulmate parents – had closed him off pretty bad, so it was a miracle he met Kenma and started opening up again.
Kuroo smiled to himself bitterly before scratching Cucumber’s ear. He supposed this was also why he wasn’t interested in his soulmate. So many people had romanticized the whole soulmate ideal so a lot of people forgot that relationships still took work, took effort and just because they were made for each other, didn’t necessarily guarantee that they would stay together. His mom and dad didn’t officially talk anymore, but when he asked his mom as a child whether or not she still saw color, she said that she did. He also found long letters in her bedroom when he was nine, letters from his dad, so he supposed they still talked together, though Kuroo wasn’t let in on it – nor was he particularly interested. And he definitely we wasn’t interested in ending up in a relationship with someone who would end up not wanting to put in the effort for the relationship to flourish.
After Cucumber had been picked up by his mom it was time to leave for Kenma’s place. He carried the last boxes of valuables down to his basement and locked them in before trekking down to the subway with his suitcase and sports bag.
_____
You were late for work, so you scrambled to pack your things. It was Wednesday afternoon and you were supposed to meet in at 3PM, because that was around the time that Kodzuken had planned to finish his recording, he told you yesterday. You were a video editor and had met Kenma through your old part-time job in his favorite convenience store quite a few years back, back when he had first bought his house when he was 24. You remembered talking to him about video games in the store since you also played some, and after a good while of polite customer service and talk about new games, you had started hanging out outside of work as well. When you had then told him you were actually a freelance video editor but just didn’t get many jobs, he had almost instantly hired you to do his YouTube videos for him and general editing and set-ups of his streams. I know video games, not recording equipment, he had told you so many years ago.
Your original thought had been wary, because working for a friend might get messy but Kenma cared a lot about keeping it professional when you were on the clock, which you appreciated very much. In his house, down by his game room, there was a room next door with screens and all the best editing software just for you to play with. Your pay was higher than average for such a “simple” but regular gig but when prompted about it, he simply shrugged and told you it wasn’t up for negotiation and no one was being treated unfair – and who were you to go against such a good pay for a job that you loved doing and wanted to do full-time? With Kenma being a famous streamer and gamer, he often made lots of different videos for various sites so your job hours resembled a nine to five job, easy, even if the hours were off from the more conventional jobs and you usually came in later in the day and sometimes finished off late in the evening – some of his videos had a time limit for a release date of a game, so there was also days where you were extremely busy and scrambling to get the video done right for a release of a game.
As you closed your bag and ran out the door towards the subway, you checked your phone for any updates. If he’d finished early, he would’ve texted you about it, so you put your phone in your pocket and hurried towards his house.
When you arrived you immediately rang the doorbell before catching your breath, you were used to Kenma spending a few minutes before reaching the door and opening it, so when the door opened almost instantly you took a step back before looking up. The one opening the door was taller than Kenma and in a loose dress shirt that was unbuttoned at the top - that’s all you saw before your eyes darted down to your feet.
“...Hi! I’m uh… Where’s Kenma?” was all you got out while fidgeting with your purse strap, it certainly wasn’t his boyfriend Hinata opening the door today.
“Oh, hey! You must be his video editor, right? He told me about you!” The man said, pointing to himself with his thumb,
“I’m Kuroo Tetsurou! Kenma’s childhood friend! Sorry to intrude, I’ll be living here for the next month, I promise not to get in your way!” As he finished his introduction, he moved aside so that you could enter. As you took off your shoes you heard Kenma’s feet shuffling towards you, “oh hey, welcome, you’re early,” Kenma said with his usual deadpan expression but you could clearly hear the teasing in his voice.
“At least I’m here now, right?” You smiled back, instantly relaxing at the sight of your boss and friend. You turned to Kuroo again, bowed and introduced yourself before taking off your coat and putting it on a hanger, while Kenma and the guy named Kuroo seemed to bicker a bit about whether or not Kuroo should answer the door while he lived there.
“I’ll go set it up, have you transferred the video files to the hard disk?” you asked Kenma as you moved towards ‘your’ office, sending Kuroo a polite smile while keeping your eyes on his neck.
Eye contact was hard for you, it always made you extremely uncomfortable and you didn’t really have any before you felt comfortable with the person. Your mother had often scolded you, saying you’d never find your soulmate at this rate, which you always acknowledged with a hum or a simple yes without starting a discussion.
You honestly weren’t sure whether or not you cared for a soulmate. Your biggest argument to wanting to find one was so that you could see colors, because it’d help your career. Kenma already had his soulmate, so he was the one deciding the color scheme for his videos and helped with the color-related editing, which worked fine as of now, but you would probably appreciate to be able to do it yourself. You had also spent some years coming to terms with your struggles with eye contact and accept that this was just how you functioned. If you missed your soulmate in a random supermarket thanks to it one day, well, you’d be none the wiser, so you felt sure you’d survive without one, but you also couldn’t deny that the sound of a soulmate sounded really nice and comforting. That someone out there existed to fit you, that you were born to love someone who was also meant to love you. You were sure that finding your soulmate wasn’t a dance on roses, it was sure to still be hard, frustrating and maybe even painful sometimes, but you also couldn’t just have all the good, there was a balance that was sure to exist within soulmates as well.
After hours of going through the raw footage from his video game play and slowly editing while watching it, you popped your shoulders and stretched your arms for a moment, yawning as you did so. Your hours were always a bit intense, but that couldn’t be helped when you had six hours of raw footage to work with. Looking at the clock you saw that it was 5.30PM which meant that soon Kenma would wake up from his pseudo-sleep (which was more like a nap in your opinion) to look at your process and ask what you wanted for dinner.
Soon after a soft knock was heard followed by the door opening slowly, Kenma standing in sweats and a hoodie with bags under his eyes, “do you like hotpot?” he asked, and you smiled at him, “sure, are you cooking tonight?” he yawned while he shook his head, “Kuroo is. He insists on a ‘fulfilling meal’, whatever that means.”
You giggled before beckoning Kenma in to see some of what you’ve done so far and making minor adjustments along the way. “Now, something smells delicious and I’m thirsty,” you stated after the two of you had talked a bit about the rest of the video’s plans. As you went towards the kitchen you could hear the sound of of a nameless tune being hummed, pans sizzling from something being cooked and kitchen utensils being used.
Inside, the table was already set with plates and prepared ingredients lying ready for the pot that Kuroo was just about to put on the table. It seemed he had made an endless supply of different side dishes and really put in a lot of work for it, so you looked really forward to eating it and it smelled delicious. You grabbed a glass from the set table and went to the sink to get some water and just as your hand reached it, Kuroo had extended his hand as well to the sink and you accidentally touched.
You both recoiled as if you had been burned and you couldn’t stop the gasp that accidentally left your lips. A feeling was rushing through your body you hadn’t experienced before and you immediately apologized to Kuroo and went back to the table, foregoing the water. You didn’t notice how Kuroo was frozen in place from when he touched you before Kenma called out to him and he immediately started moving again.
You ended up eating shortly after, Kuroo serving the food and talking animatedly about him and Kenma’s childhood, making you laugh quite a bit at their (or more, Kuroo’s) antics and their volleyball days. Kuroo was the type of person to make you relax in his presence and have fun which you didn’t even notice until you got home later that evening and really thought about what a great time you had had. You found yourself surprised by how easily you clicked with Kuroo, a total stranger. It must be his charm, you thought to yourself before going through your night routine. You had to come back tomorrow and finish work, after all. You estimated the video would take you a few more days to finish but that would end up fitting well with the weekend coming, so as you went to bed you felt yourself more relaxed than you had in a while.
_____
“What are they like?”
It was Friday and it seemed you had finished Kenma’s video and therefor you weren’t here for dinner – for the first time in a few days, which did let down Kuroo just a tiny bit. He had talked a lot with you during dinner preparations when you came out from the office and during dinner as well and while you did answer all his questions (which, he admitted, there were quite a few of them) and follow up with your own for him, it still felt… off… talking to you – and Kuroo didn’t like not knowing why. “What do you mean?” Kenma asked, taking another bite into his mouth.
Kenma swallowed a piece of meat before looking up at Kuroo who was stabbing his plate with his fork in what seemed like a useless purpose. He knew he was being a little weird but meeting you was weird, even though he had no reason to explain why.
“I mean, is this how they usually act?” He didn’t even know what that question meant or why he was even asking it, nothing made sense! But he had a desperate feeling that he needed to get to know you – he was afraid of what that implied and what suspicions he needed to hold onto, but he was sure it was his gut telling him you were dangerous for Kenma to be around – that had to be it! Kenma was his best friend, his childhood friend, it had to be a gut feeling meant to protect him!
“Who knows, they’re being more polite than usual, I think. But that makes sense,” Kenma replied calmly before adding, “I mean you are a stranger who’s really intent on being social with them over our dinners, they were a bit shy as well when I met them,”
Kuroo nodded and finally took a bite of his own food. He didn’t notice Kenma’s raised eyebrows or the questioning look that was sent his way, so Kenma decided to let the subject rest.
Not seeing you today felt weird to him too and he couldn’t help the irritation building up inside him – you had just met a few days ago and only in the evenings when he was done with work and ready to make dinner – and yet, the thought of you kept invading his mind. He had gotten through work today thinking you were going to be there for dinner so when he came home and found out you wouldn’t be there, the first seed of irritation had been planted – why was he suddenly looking so much forward to seeing you? Had it been like this yesterday too? Why was it suddenly important that you weren’t there? He ended up sitting in front of the laptop in the guest room for the rest of the evening, the document left open and completely untouched.
Kuroo, however, didn’t let the subject rest in his head for the rest of that evening. Hinata was in town, having time off after a big game yesterday so Kuroo was left to his own devices – which really wasn’t a problem considering he had to make the paperwork for a promotional deal for a meeting Monday morning that he had procrastinated making – which wasn’t like him at all, he usually never pushed assignments to last minute and he then realized the reason he wasn’t done yet was because he had spent so much time over the dinner table with Kenma and you, talking even after dinner had been done for a while. You always offered to help him with the clean-up so you also spent some time talking there, drifting off to various subjects far passing the cleaning duties and sitting down again with a glass of water.
He enjoyed your company, it felt... easy, somehow, the sensation that something was off was there but it didn’t really settle in his stomach until every time after you left, as if it was left to grow a bit from a small sensation to a problem, which worried him – Kuroo prided himself as an impeccable people-reader, he was captain for both the volleyball team in high school and college, he knew how to act around business relations so well because he could read them so flawlessly – so the feelings he got from you was unsettling and unreadable and it took some control away from him – and Kuroo always felt uneasy when he wasn’t in control.
____
Kuroo heard your name and almost got whiplash from how fast his head moved towards Kenma, “what?”
“I asked if we should invite them? To game night? Being three is a little annoying in Mario Party.”
“Oooh, that’s a good idea! I’d love to see them again!” Hinata happily exclaimed before taking another bite of the lasagna Kuroo had prepared tonight. It was Saturday and Kuroo had been in a daze the entire day, first at the office for a quick meeting with his boss about a potential partner he might be able to reel in soon and then doing his laundry at Kenma’s and continuing to try and make the stupid paperwork but ultimately failing before he had to make dinner.
“Isn’t it a bit late to invite someone? I mean, they could have plans already...” Kuroo tried, knowing what a pain it could be to be asked to something an hour before it happened and he didn’t want to let you go through that – that’s what he tried to tell himself, at least. In truth? He was a bit afraid of seeing you again, afraid of his potential reactions, since he had spent his entire Friday in a stupor just thinking about you. His thoughts didn’t mean much for Kenma and Hinata though, who was already texting you to ask.  “Oi, no phones at the table, have you parents taught you no manners?” Kuroo chided and Hinata immediately shrank back and apologized – Kuroo smirked, yea the Chibi-chan still had respect for his seniors. But he was quickly pulled back to thoughts about you by Kenma’s phone lighting up again, “they’ll be here in an hour. They’re asking if they should bring anything?” Kenma looked up to gauge Kuroo’s reaction, having noticed something about his friend had been off the past few days. He immediately made a funny grimace before turning it into a smile. “Yea, they can bring a bottle of white wine, if I have to beat you all at Mario Party, I would very much like to be a tiny bit buzzed,” Kuroo said, and Hinata looked at him with wide eyes, “you drink wine!? So grown up!” Hinata exclaimed, to which Kenma just muttered, “or just an old man…” Kuroo didn’t hear that though, too busy to fidget with his hands under the table, suddenly feeling nervous that you were showing up.
Hinata plopped down between Kuroo and you with a controller in hand, “I’m gonna beat you all in this Mario Kart!” to which you laughed loudly, “good luck since we’re playing Mario Party.”
“Huh? Is there a difference?” Hinata asked, making Kuroo belt out a loud laugh as well, holding his stomach, “you just told us you’d beat us but you don’t even know what we’re playing!” Kuroo couldn’t contain his laughter for a bit until he noticed how you were looking at him and instantly retracted his laugh, sitting up straight with a cough, and apologizing for being loud, which confused him to no end. He had never been self-conscious of his own laugh! He knew it could be obnoxious and loud, but he also liked it himself, and-
“That’s a really cute laugh.”
The comment earned you the stares of the century from the three other people in the room, with Kenma in genuine shock – he wouldn’t say he disliked Kuroo’s laugh, just that it was… special.
“Uhm… Uh. Thank you?” Kuroo could feel that his blush went all the way to his ears but he hoped that the light in the living room wasn’t bright enough to catch it. “Yeah uh! Sure! Mhm,” you awkwardly coughed a bit as well before reaching for your glass of wine.
You had brought a bottle of white wine for Kuroo on the promise that you’d get a glass too, saying he was your first friend who also liked wine. The word ‘friend’ had dumb-founded him and he’d just answered “you can have it all,” to which you had laughed and said it’s fine with half, you weirdo.
The game was about to begin but Kuroo was still sitting stuck on the fact that his laugh was cute – cute? Had anyone else found it cute before besides Bokuto and his mom? He wasn’t sure – he sure couldn’t pinpoint them right now anyways. He tried to shake it off and focus on the game, though quite a bit of time was spent explaining the rules to Hinata who apparently had thought they were just playing Mario Kart.
When you were 12 laps into it, it seemed that you were set to win with your four stars and 121 coins. Kenma was right behind you with three stars and Hinata and Kuroo had been left in the dust with zero stars. You had stolen Kuroo’s first (and only) star early in the game, so he was plotting his vengeance in quiet but was getting afraid that the game would end before he could do anything to you – but just as his hopes were at the smallest during the last round of the game, you were put in the same team as him in the last mini game.
Kuroo had a wide smirk when you cheered and said, “this’ll be easy then!” because no, it would not be easy for you. If he had to go down in order to take you down a notch, then so be it. He’d rather Kenma win than you did with stolen goods!
The last mini game was “Tow the Line” where two players were put in a sewing box shaped with nine dots as a grid and two players tied together with a string and the objective was to make the shape with the string as shown in the middle of screen. As soon as the whistle sounded, Kuroo lowered his hands and stopped using his controllers, all with a big grin on his lips.
“Kuroo, what the fuck! Get moving, we’ve started!” you yelled at him as Kenma and Hinata won the first round, signaling the next round began, Kuroo started whistling and looking away from the screen, to which you got up from your seat, “fine, I’ll just take your controller and do it myself!”
Kuroo put his arm with the controller behind him, “nah-ah-ah! You’re not winning this, fiend! That’s what you get for stealing my star!” He grinned up at you with his eyes closed as you stood with your hands on your hips, “come on man! I stole that star in the fourth round! Kenma stole a star from me as well!” you tried, “maybe he stole the one that was yours, who knows! Get over it so we can win!”
But as soon as you’d said that, the third round had just been won and you sighed and flopped down on your seat again, “not cool Kuroo, not cool. I’ll remember this!”
You both laughed as the game made ready to announce the winner, Kenma and Hinata entertained by your antics.
“You can’t avenge something that I avenged in the first place! I only did it because you did me wrong, you know!”
“You can’t use logic on me, it doesn’t apply!”
To no surprise, you won the entire game, even winning one of the two bonus stars given at the end of the game.
After the last sequence and a bow from you there was a quick break before you decided to play some Mario Kart for Hinata’s sake, since his argument was that he lost due it being Party instead. You played quite a few hours and after another toilet break you had switched places with Hinata so Kenma could cuddle up against him. You yawned, drinking the last of the wine in your glass and said, “I should head home, I have a friend coming over for lunch tomorrow.”
Hinata and Kenma both started to get up to say goodnight but you waved at them with a smile, “I can walk out myself, it’s fine!” But Kuroo had already gotten up from the couch as well, so you walked with him towards the hallway where you put on your shoes. There was a comfortable silence between the two of you, which Kuroo noted and scowled a bit - he might have only known you for less than a week but for some reason he felt like it had been a lot longer, like you were old friends – it felt strange, to be so close with a stranger. He didn’t know anything about you, really. He knew your name, your job and how you liked some of your vegetables and which meat was your favorite, he knew you also loved cats but didn’t have one (he couldn’t remember if he knew why) and he felt pretty sure he would recognize you in a crowded area – why it was so intense, he was unsure of, he hadn’t tried meeting someone this way before. It had also seemed like having this game night had made you considerably more relaxed in his presence, even joking around with him instead of being polite, which made Kuroo somewhat giddy, though it didn’t really make sense to him as to why.
“I hope you had fun,” Kuroo said awkwardly, as if he had been the host and scratched the back of his head.
“Yeah, I did! I’m sorry I stole your star, though,” you laughed, buttoning your jacket.
“Nah, no worries, as they say, all’s fair in love and war, right?”
You giggled and picked up your bag from the dresser while Kuroo opened up the door for you. As you exited, you turned around with a bright smile, “well, thanks for toni-”
Everything ended up a blur, too bright, too much, too noisy, too… colorful? Kuroo was still looking into your eyes as all that went through him, completely blindsided. As he took a proper look, he could see that you looked just as surprised as him, your eyes wide but still never leaving his either.
“Is… Is this? Are you? Is…” You asked after what felt like both days and milliseconds, I could stare at them so much longer, he thought to himself, the colors only making your face more clear to him. Had you really not had eye contact at all? Had you seen each other for several hours – more than a few times, without looking each other in the eyes at all? Kuroo was more baffled by this happening so late than the fact that it was happening.
He was about to say something, anything, when you promptly turned around, nervously yelling, “I-I uh, I gotta go! Goodbye!” as you hurried out of the driveway and down towards the subway.
“W-wait!” Kuroo belatedly and unhelpfully yelled out as you turned a corner, too late. You were gone. A hand was dragged down his face as a sigh left him, what the fuck had just happened? He obviously needed to talk to you about this, but he also needed to gather his thoughts about all of this, so he slowly closed the door and went back towards the living room, greeted by Hinata and Kenma who looked up at him curiously, “why did you yell?” Hinata asked with his head tilted.
“I think I just found my soulmate.”
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mrsalwayswrite · 4 years ago
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Singing in the Shower (Ragnarssons x Reader)
This is just a silly little one-shot that came to mind that I could not stop thinking about. It got a bit deeper than I planned but oops?
Also my first time writing a Ragnarssons x reader! Please let me know if I did all the brothers justice. Except Bjorn isn’t in here. So its just the sons of Aslaug. Sorry, Bjorn.  
Warnings: some brief mentions of abusive/unhealthy past relationships, reader has some insecurities, the brothers being the best roomies ever but also creepers, like one or two swear words, FLUFFY GOODNESS!!! 
Words: 3700
Tag List: @youbloodymadgenius​
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 (picture is from Pinterest. Not mine.)
The sound of laughter echoed around you even before leaving your bedroom. It was a Sunday night so that meant the Lothbrok brothers were all over. A tradition Ubbe started some months ago to make sure the four brothers stayed connected in each other's lives. Every Sunday evening, all of them would congregate in the three bedroom flat you shared with Ubbe and Hvitserk. They would order a stack of pizzas and enough beer to put a pub crawl to shame, and watch movies or play video games until the early morning hours. Only twice had fist fights broken out between Sigurd and Ivar with just a table and a lamp damaged in the process, so Ubbe called it a win. 
 It had only been about a year that you lived with Ubbe and Hvitserk. Sigurd chose to move in with a couple members of the band he played in. Aslaug vehemently refused to let Ivar move out due to his many medical needs that she claimed he could only receive proper attention for at home. In equal parts rebellion and to escape his mother’s suffocating attention, Ivar spent the majority of his free time and nights crashing on the couch at your shared flat. 
 At first, you were hesitant about living with the two brothers, having only known them through friends, but you decided to give it a chance. Within a couple of months, you found the strange dynamics of your shared space and your vastly different relationships with each of the brothers to feel eerily familiar….like being home. 
 Standing at your door, you listened to the brothers for a few moments, smiling broadly as you heard Hvitserk taunting Sigurd about how he was going to beat his ass if he threw another blue shell at him. Meanwhile Ivar was yelling something about the undeniable magic of Yoshi and his winning streak. They must be playing Mario Kart again. 
 It was nice to hear them all getting along. Normally Sunday nights you hung out with your boyfriend to give the brothers privacy, even though all of them repeatedly told you it was unnecessary. That was until last week. You had taken a selfie on your boyfriend's phone and went to set it as his background to surprise him….and found nude pictures of other girls and the dick pics he sent them back. Before you stormed out of his flat, you may have thrown his phone against the wall, pleased when the screen shattered just like your trust. Then you came home and cried to Hvitserk about how you were swearing off men and just wanted to be a spinster for the rest of your life. 
 Word must have spread between the brothers. For the rest of the week, they all offered their support in various ways. Sigurd texted you a few times to check on you and remind you that clearly you were better off without your ex. Ubbe gave you long hugs as if trying to soak the pain out of you, and made sure you were eating and getting out of bed. Hvitserk surprised you with a new sugary treat every day ranging from Oreos to ice cream to chocolate muffins; then you two would cuddle on the couch indulging yourselves while watching movies. Ivar threatened to beat up your now ex-boyfriend for making you cry and take pictures to send to those girls your ex had been texting. You made sure to shut Ivar's idea down quickly but pressed a quick kiss to his cheek and thanked him for offering. You hated your ex, that did not mean you wanted him dead. 
 You pushed away from your door and down the hallway. Popping your head around the corner, you saw the brothers in various positions in the living room, eyes all glued to the TV and the race happening on-screen. 
 "I'm gonna shower." You announced, receiving grunts of affirmations as they were too focused to fully acknowledge you. Smiling at their antics, you headed into the bathroom, shutting the door and starting the shower up. Once the water was at the perfect temperature, you stripped and jumped in. Of course, once the mixture of hot water and steam helped you relax, you started singing to yourself, letting the worries of the day fade away for just a moment as the words flowed from your lips and echoed off the shower stall walls like your own little stage. 
 Unbeknownst to you, as soon as the bathroom door shut and the sound of water running could be heard, the volume on the TV was muted. 
 Ivar, surprisingly, was the first one to overhear your singing. He had come over to crash for a few hours after his latest doctor appointment and to work on an assignment for a University class. The bathroom door somehow had not fully latched when you closed it, cracking open while you were in the shower….and you started singing. Ivar sat stunned on the couch at the voice slipping out of the bathroom like a siren's song. He remained there, transfixed as you sang some song he had never heard but he could feel in his chest. Once you stopped singing and the shower turned off, he quickly jumped up and hobbled over to silently shut the door, slightly embarrassed by the idea of you catching him listening in to your shower singing. 
 Later that day after you headed out to work, Ivar asked Ubbe and Hvitserk if they had heard you sing yet. Both of them denied ever hearing you sing. When asked if he knew anything, Sigurd was upset, having asked you on multiple nights to go to a karaoke bar with him and some friends. You always refused by saying you sounded Iike a beached whale. 
 Ubbe was next to overhear. He was walking by the bathroom on the way to the kitchen when he heard your voice drifting from underneath the bathroom door. Feeling like a creeper but curiosity winning out, he pressed his ear to the bathroom door to listen better. To say he had been shocked was an understatement. Sure, he had heard Ivar praise your voice, but he figured his youngest brother was exaggerating. It made him wonder why you never sang in front of others. 
 A silent pact was made between the brothers that they would never share the information of your singing with anyone outside the four of them….and whenever you jumped in the shower, whoever was the closest would go and crack the bathroom door open so they could hear you better. 
 This time was no different. 
 Sigurd was closest, so after Ubbe paused the game, he jumped up and silently cracked open the door so your beautiful voice could flow out. The game picked back up but remained on mute so they could hear you. The first song you serenaded them with was Walk Me Home by Pink. Apparently, one of your new favorites since you sang it so often. Next was Someone Like You by Adele. By the third song, the brothers had abandoned the game and were solely focused on you and the raw emotion bleeding from your voice. This time you started to sing Someone You Loved by Lewis Capaldi.  
 Ubbe spoke up, keeping his voice quiet just in case you could hear them, however unlikely. "Has she said anything about her ex lately?"
 "Not to me." Hvitserk answered first. "I thought she was doing fine."
 "Just because she's not crying all the time doesn't mean she's fine." Ivar retorted harshly, never removing his eyes from the direction of the bathroom. After a moment, he got up and hobbled towards the bathroom. 
 "Ivar…. Ivar, what are you doing?" Ubbe hissed but was ignored. 
 As quiet as possible, Ivar walked into the bathroom and sat on the toilet lid; your singing managed to cover the sounds of his movement. As he rolled his head to the side, it was to find his brothers had followed him with varying expressions ranging from concern to amusement. 
 Normally you did not spend so long in the shower but today you decided to spoil yourself. You had been doing well all week but this morning you were scrolling through your Instagram and happened to stumble upon a picture of your ex with a new girl, smiling happily and kissing at a restaurant…. the day after you broke up. And seeing them together felt like it ripped a tear into the slowly healing pieces of your heart. 
 Instead of going out like you planned to do, you laid in bed all-day binge-watching movies and feeling like an idiot. So in the shower you took extra time pampering yourself, using a deep conditioner in your hair, shaving everywhere and just letting the hot water cascade down your skin and loosen the tense muscles. 
 At this point you were feeling a little better and decided it was best not to waste any more water. You turned the water off, running your hands down your body to get as much excess water off, before you reached for your towel. Grabbing the plush towel hanging on the rack, you quickly dried your hair and wrapped the towel around your body before pulling the curtain back….
 Only to shriek as you realized you were not alone in the bathroom. 
 "What? What are you guys doing?" You demanded, eyes frantically darting between the four brothers.
 Ivar sat on the toilet lid; head tilted as he watched you with a peculiar expression on his face. Hvitserk leaned against the sink, eyes darting from your towel-clad body to the floor then back up. Ubbe and Sigurd stood in the doorway, both looking the least comfortable but still not moving. 
 "We, ah, we were…. well, we are concerned for you." Ubbe said, rubbing the back of his neck. 
 "Concerned?" You asked incredulously. 
 Ivar ignored your question. "Is this about your ex? Want me to pay him a visit?"
 "What are you talking about?"
 "Your singing. They were sad songs." Sigurd answered, leaning against the doorframe with his arms crossed. 
 Heat flooded your face. You dropped your head, staring at the bathroom floor as you clutched the towel closer to your body. Honestly, the idea of them hearing your singing was far more humiliating than them seeing you naked at this point. "You…. you heard me…. singing?"
 "Y/n, are you OK? You know you can tell us anything." Hvitserk said, trying to meet your eye. 
 "Um, can…. can we talk about this when…. when I'm not naked?" 
 "Of course. Come on, brothers." Ubbe quickly agreed, tapping the door as if to signal. He and Sigurd walked away first. Only when you finally met Hvitserk's eye did he push off the sink and head out but not before giving you a flirty wink. 
 "Ivar…."
 He slouched back, folding his hands behind his head. "I'm quite comfortable here."
 "Oh gods, please, Ivar." You begged, almost on the verge of tears. 
 He stared at you a long moment before pushing himself to his feet. "Don't think you're getting out of this."
 "Ok."
 Appeased, he made his way out of the bathroom, closing the door behind him. 
 Once alone, you stepped out of the shower only to drop onto the toilet lid and place your head in your hands. Your chest heaved and your eyes stung as you fought back the tears that threatened to fall. Today was bad enough and now this. It had to be something out of a nightmare. Your own personal hell. 
 When you finally composed yourself, you quickly changed into your comfiest sweats and tank top. You wished you could make a run for your room, anything to avoid the impending conversation but you knew the brothers would follow, they were all stubborn and persistent when they wanted to be. 
 With a deep breath, you stepped out of the bathroom and towards the living room. What hushed disagreement the brothers were clearly having abruptly ended when they noticed you. Awkwardly you remained standing, unsure where to sit. The only open spots were on the couch between Hvitserk and Ivar or one of the recliners as Ubbe sat in the other one. Sigurd reclined on the rocker gaming chair on the floor. 
 Averting your eyes, you started towards the open recliner only to have a strong arm snake around your waist as you passed by and pulled you onto the couch. You squeaked as you suddenly found yourself perched on Ivar's lap. Somewhere you had certainly never been before. 
 "Where do you think you're going?" He asked, a cocky grin spread across his face. 
 "Um, over there." You nodded your head towards the other open spot. 
��"No, you're sitting here now."
 "Stop hogging her, brother." Hvitserk reached over and dragged you off Ivar. Somehow you ended up with your back against Hvitserk's side, his arm slung around you and your legs across Ivar's lap, him slowly running his hand up and down them. 
 Ubbe raised an eyebrow at the three of you. "Are you done yet?"
 "I thought we were just fine but I guess Hvitty had other plans." Ivar snarked, rolling his eyes. 
 "We're good now." Hvitserk said with a cheesy smile, making you giggle. 
 "So how are you really doing, y/n?" Ubbe asked, staring at you with those knowing blue eyes. 
 "Um, I'm alright. Today was just…. rough." At the four questioning looks, you quickly explained about what you found this morning on Instagram. 
 Ivar slapped the armrest of the couch. "I'm beating his ass now and nothing you say can stop me."
 You snagged his other hand that was still on your leg and clasped it, as if that alone could diminish his deadly intent. "Please don't. He's not worth it. I just…. I just want to move on. Ok?"
 He grumbled, but eventually gripped your hand and gave it a single squeeze in acknowledgement. 
 Now here was the part that petrified you; but you needed to know. 
 "Um, how…. how long have…. was this your first time?" Your words stumbled out, making you cringe at how ineloquent it was. 
 "What are you talking about?" Sigurd drawled; one foot propped up so he slowly rocked in the gaming chair.  
 You licked your lips, your mouth suddenly dry. You dropped your gaze, as you whispered your answer. "My….my singing."
 "What? You sound bloody brilliant! The others have heard you more than me but you always sound amazing!" Sigurd exclaimed, a beaming smile on his face. "I don't know why you haven't gone out with me before! Oh! I'd love for you to try and sing in my band, we could use an amazing vocalist like you! Gods, we could get way more gigs with a beautiful woman like you upfront singing."
 Soon as Sigurd started talking, you covered your face with your hands. The tears you managed to repress earlier flooded back. Your shoulders hunched over, cowering into yourself at the revelation. They had all heard you. Apparently more than just this one time. It was mortifying. Long ago you stopped singing in front of others, no longer able to face the ridicule, the degrading comments always thrown your way. And now, these brothers that you had become so close to…. if they said anything negative towards you right now, you were sure your heart would fully break and no lyric would ever pass your lips again. 
 Hvitserk shifted behind you, turning you so he could wrap both arms around your waist and place his cheek against the side of your head. "Y/n, talk to us." 
 You shook your head, the barely suppressed tears and poisoned words clogging your throat. 
 Abruptly, a pair of calloused hands grabbed yours, forcing them away from your face. You were immediately met by a pair of piercing blue eyes, only inches from your face. 
 "Whose ass am I killing now? Huh?" Ivar demanded in a low, menacing tone. Between his tone and the fury burning in his eyes, you knew he meant his question, and that sent a nervous chill down your spine. 
 "It's not…. it’s nothing."
 "Bullshit." Ivar spat. 
 Hvitserk nuzzled your temple, his voice lighter but still with an edge of steel in it. "I agree with Ivar. Something happened."
 Biting your bottom lip, you closed your eyes. There were a few things that were just too painful to talk about and this one, they had unknowingly stumbled upon. 
 "Was it your mother?"
 Your eyes flew open, your head snapped over to stare at Ubbe in shock. He met your gaze unflinchingly, and somehow you knew he already figured at least part of it out. He accidentally overheard a phone conversation between you and your mother one time and once you got off the phone, he immediately pulled you into a bone-crushing hug and promised you never had to see her again if you never wanted to, that they would take care of you. Of course, you cried all over him after he promised that. 
 Ubbe leaned forward in the recliner, placing his elbows on his knees, gaze still intent on you. "What did she do?"
 "She…. she hated when I sang. Said I was just desperate for attention. That I needed to just shut up. That no one would want to listen to me anyway. If she ever caught me singing…. once she duct-taped my mouth shut."
 You could hear the gasps at your confession, followed by a round of curses. Hvitserk pressed a kiss to your temple, tightening his hold on you. Ivar squeezed your hands, still holding them within his own. 
 Ubbe nodded as if not surprised. He ran a hand down his face and sighed before stealing your gaze once again. "I have a feeling she wasn't the only one to hurt you."
 At this point, a silent tear trekked down your cheek. You sniffled, dropping your gaze down. "I had an ex who used to make fun of my singing. He used to say 'at least you're pretty'. When we would ride together listening to music, he would tell me to stop singing and 'leave it to the professionals'. At some point, it just….it was better to not sing in front of anyone. So I only sang in the shower cause I thought no one would hear me."
 Hvitserk turned your head, looking into your eyes. "Baby, listen to me. Your singing is incredible. We all love listening to you sing. Please don't be embarrassed about this with us."
 "I'd love for you to walk around the house singing, I could happily listen to that all day." Ubbe said, a tender smile on his lips. 
 "I second that!" 
 "Sig, you're only here on Sundays." Ubbe glanced over at his brother. 
 Sigurd shrugged. "So? I could listen to her sing all day. Maybe she should move in with me and actually be appreciated."
 "No! You're not stealing her from us!" Hvitserk said, practically cradling you against him, like a puppy afraid to lose its favorite toy.
 "It's not stealing if she wants to go!" 
 Ivar butted in. "I am more interested in this other shitty ex and mother...can I find them?"
 "No, Ivar. You have to stop threatening people."
 "Why?" He whined at you, tugged on your hands, your legs still across his lap. "You won't let me teach them a lesson so all I can do is threaten."
 "Also sounds like you have terrible taste in guys. Anymore shitty exes we should know about?" Sigurd asked, rocking his chair. 
 You figured at this point you were spilling all your dirty secrets so what was one more. "Um, I was talking to this one guy but when he found out I moved in here, he called me a whore for moving in with two brothers and told me I was a waste of his time." You softly admitted, having made sure none of them ever heard about that after it happened. 
 For a moment there was dead silence then….
 "I'm going to need his name right now." Ubbe said, malice dripping off every word. 
 "Yeah! Let's cut his tongue out! See what he says about that!" Ivar cheered. 
 You could not stop the laughter that came out. The idea that these brothers got so worked up over anyone that ever insulted or hurt you was both sweet and slightly infuriating, but mostly sweet. No one had ever cared about you as strongly as these four brothers. 
 "It's fine now. How about this? Next guy to hurt me, I promise I'll give you his name."
 "No! I want to cut this asshole's tongue out. Maybe slap him with it after!" Ivar smiled with a pure predatory look. 
 "I think you should just date one of us." Sigurd shrugged, watching everyone with a smirk. "Then you know he'd treat you right."
 "I like this idea." Hvitserk smiled, squeezing you lightly. "We would romance the hell out of you."
 "You guys are being silly. I don't even know what romance would look like." You giggled at the absurd idea. All the brothers were gorgeous in their own ways and could pick up any girl they wanted, why would they want you? Besides, your relationships were just platonic. "Is the interrogation over now? Want me to leave so you can get back to your game?"
 "Nope, you're stuck here." Ivar said, leaning on you now so you were sandwiched between the two brothers. 
 Ubbe chuckled. "We've told you before, you are welcome to hang out with us. Why don't we put in a movie?"
 After many arguments and some mild threats, a movie was finally chosen. You settled against Hvitserk, facing the TV, as you played with Ivar's hair, his head now in your lap. 
 As you watched the movie, you missed the silent conversation between the brothers happening around you. It was decided that your next boyfriend would certainly be one of them and in the meantime, they were all going to romance the hell out of you and make sure you understood how important and incredible you are. 
 Starting with making sure you sang whenever you wanted. 
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triptuckers · 4 years ago
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Not if it’s you - Din Djarin
Request: no Pairing:  Din Djarin x reader Summary:  After months of traveling the galaxy with each other, Din tells you he needs to continue his quest alone. You don’t know what caused the sudden change of heart and you’re hurt, but leave nonetheless. But after being around him for so long, you’ve forgotten what it’s like to be on your own. Warnings: angst, language, slight season 2 spoilers Word count:  4.2K 😳 A/N: Based on a text post I found and a video I saw on instagram. Italics are flashbacks. Enjoy reading! :)
You’re miserable. And cold. And lonely. You’re not used to it. Well, you’ve been miserable and cold before, but it’s been months since the last time you’ve felt lonely. You almost forgot what it felt like. 
Up until a few days ago, you weren’t miserable and cold at all. And certainly not lonely. You were aboard the Razor Crest, accompanying a certain Mandalorian on a quest. It came out of nowhere to you, you thought everything was well between you. More than just well, actually. Perhaps you were wrong.
‘Say that again.’ you say, trying to keep your voice from breaking. You can’t see his face, but his helmet lowers. He can’t even look at you. ‘You need to leave.’ says Din.
‘I’ve been here for months. Trying to help you on this quest of yours. Delivering the kid to the Jedi. I’ve helped you on your path to find other Mandalorians. I thought we’d stick together no matter what.’ you say. 
Though it feels broken, your heart is still beating rapidly. You can feel it in your throat while you fight the tears. It feels as if an invisible hand is slowly closing around your throat, making it hard to breathe. 
‘You need to leave.’ says Din. ‘Please.’
The invisible hand disappears, and a new emotion takes over: anger. He had the audacity to tell you to leave. After everything you’ve been through. You’ve travelled the galaxy with him, taken care of him when he got in a fight, offered to take care of the kid so he could rest, made sure he ate. You did everything for him.
But that’s not what makes you so angry. It’s the fact he can throw it in the garbage like that. You care about him. Maybe more than you’ve ever cared about anyone. You have to admit it’s scary, but you’re willing to reach out and grasp the feeling with both of your hands. Worst of all, you thought he felt the same.
All those hours you spent talking about your cultures, people and home planet. All those hours you spent getting to know each other, letting each other in your hearts. Apparently it meant nothing to him.
‘Why?’ you say, anger slowly rising in your voice. Din sighs deeply. ‘Please, just leave.’ he says. 
‘Why?’ you repeat. ‘I need to be on my own.’ he says. ‘There’s a planet nearby where I can land. There’s a city where you can-’
‘So that’s it?’ you say, getting angrier. It’s getting harder and harder to hold back the tears. ‘You’re just going to kick me off the Razor Crest? You’re just going to abandon me on the nearest habitable planet?’
‘I’m not abandoning you.’ says Din. ‘Of course not!’ you say loudly. ‘I’ve just served your purpose and now you don’t need me anymore! Now that I’ve done what you needed me to do, you’re just going to shove me away!’
It startles Din how angry you are, how loud your voice is. He’s seen you get angry before. He’s heard you shout before. But you’ve never been angry before. Sure, you could get annoyed by him, but it never turned into anger. And you’ve never shouted at him before. It hurts, but it’s for the best.
‘It’s for the best, Y/N. Please believe me.’ he says.  ‘For the best, my ass! You’re fucking pathetic, Din!’ you yell at him. ‘This is why you’re always alone. You just push people away when they’ve pleased you. The only reason the kid stays with you is because he doesn’t know any better, but I bet you he’d leave you if he could!’
Behind his helmet, tears form in Din’s eyes. The feeling’s strange to him, as it doesn’t happen often. He’s standing there, helplessly, tears in his eyes. He looks at you. You’ve always had to look up to him, because he’s taller. Your hands are fists and your face is red and tears stream down your cheeks. Before he can say anything, you’ve pushed past him. 
He turns around and his heart sinks as he sees you randomly grabbing your stuff and shoving it in your bag with such force you might rip it. He’s silent as he watches you collect your stuff. Without a word you march to the back of the ship, opening the door. 
Sunshine fills the ship, illuminating your figure as you stop. Din looks up, thinking you could change your mind. But you turn around and he’s shocked. The anger is gone. But the look in your eyes is colder than the Beskar steel hugging his body. 
‘I don’t even want to be here anymore.’ you say before walking off, leaving the Razor Crest and a heartbroken Mandalorian behind.
Din wanted you to leave. He needed you to be gone. You’ve done as he asked. He should be relieved. But he’s not. He sniffles as the tears finally roll down his cheeks, down his neck and into the collar of his shirt. You’re gone. Just like he asked you to. He broke your heart and his along with it.
You sigh and let your head rest against the rock you’re sitting in front of. It had been days since Din asked you to leave. You still didn’t know why he wanted you to leave. You’ve spend many hours thinking about it, but you can’t find the reason why.
Din was the only person to truly know you. You had told him many stories of your home and your childhood, along with your greatest fears and deepest desires. And in return, he had told you his. You felt like you were meant to last forever. Maybe the feeling was never mutual. 
You hug your arms tighter around your torso. Desert planets were unbearable during the day but just as much during the night. Your coat is thin, and your fingers are red due to the cold. 
You’d been on the planet once before, briefly. Din needed to get some information and because you were tired, and hadn’t slept in nearly three days, you decided to stay on the Razor Crest. Every now and then you woke up when you heard the sound of droids outside the ship, or the woman who owned the place. 
Peli was a wonderful woman, and you got along really well during your first time the planet. Maybe she could tell you where you could get a ship so you could get out of here. If you could only reach the city. It’d be a journey of three days. Two if you’d be fast. But you were almost out of water and food. You’d probably collapse before you’d reach the city. 
Your mind wanders off to Din again. Where would he be right now? Could you track him and catch up with him if you had a ship, or would he be long gone? What if you never met again, and he forgot about you?
You certainly wouldn’t forget about him. You cared too much about him to just let him go. Maybe you even loved him. Maybe you’d loved him for a while now, but you were just too scared to admit it. To him, and to yourself. 
Whatever the feeling was, it was making you miserable. Because you hated being away from him, and because you had no idea where he was, and if he would miss you as well. 
Suddenly, the loneliness fades and you get up, determined. If you had to, you’d crawl to the city on your hands and knees. You’d go to the city, find Peli, ask her if she had a ship for you or knew someone who could sell you one, and you’d track Din’s stubborn ass, and tell him you weren’t going anywhere. 
Rubbing your hands together to try to warm them, you begin your journey to the city. It’s still cold, but your determination makes it less horrible, and your walking pace speeds up as you think of Din somewhere far away on his ship, with the kid in his lap. 
The journey ended up being two days. When you first saw the city, you thought you were hallucinating due to the lack of water and food. But as you kept walking, the city appeared closer and closer, until you walked through the gates, onto the busy street. 
There’s a market and you buy some food at the first stand you see. The next stand over has water, and you gladly buy some. You ask the seller where to find Peli, and he points to the end of the street. You thank him and hurry towards it. 
You’re impatiently knocking on her door, waiting until it finally opens. Peli is frowning but the frown quickly disappears when she recognises her visitor. 
‘Y/N!’ she says happily but also a bit surprised. She looks behind you but when she catches your eye you shake your head.
‘You don’t have to look for him. Mando’s not here.’ you say.  ‘Shame. Was hoping he’d have that green little cutie with him.’ says Peli. ‘It’s just me today.’ you say. ‘Well you look like you’ve been through hell and back, come in.’ says Peli and she steps aside to let you in.
‘What do you need?’ she says as soon as you’ve followed her into her workspace. Her droids are running around, making little chittering noises. 
‘I was hoping you’d have a ship you’re selling?’ you ask hopefully. You know it’s a long shot, but it was worth trying.  ‘A ship?’ she says. ‘Technically not.’
This time, it’s your turn to frown. ‘What do you mean “technically not”?’ you say. ‘Well I have one fuelled up and ready to go, but it’s not mine.’ she says. ‘I was supposed to deliver it to this crappy looking kid, but he never showed up. Didn’t even pay me, and some of those parts were expensive.’ 
‘So you have a ship that’s ready to take off?’ you say.  ‘Yep.’ she says. ‘Why do you need it though? Thought you were still with Mando on that piece of trash he calls a ship.’ 
‘So did I.’ you mutter. ‘We got, um, separated. I need a ship so I can track him down.’ ‘You know what, I like you. I like your Mandalorian and that kid of his as well. You can have that ship if you’re willing to pay a little more than the original prize.’ says Peli. 
‘He’s not really my Mandalorian, you know.’ you say and Peli raises your eyebrows. ‘So, how much credits do you want?’ you say hastily. 
Less than ten minutes later, you’re on the ship. It’s tiny but, as Peli described it, a whole lot better and much cleaner than the Razor Crest. You’re headed to the last known location of Din, hoping to find someone who has information on where he is. It wouldn’t be likely, though. But you are determined to find him. He wouldn’t get rid you that easily again. 
But the searching is slow. You could only expect Din to cover his tracks, as he had taught you to do the same. Only a few people had seen him around or talked to him. It took you months to get your first solid lead. You’d run into a man called Cobb Vanth, who had met Din some time ago. He was eager to help you find him. With Cobb’s help, you figured out where Din would be headed for next. When you took off, leaving the planet and Cobb behind you, you felt like you actually had a chance to see Din again.
Still, after Cobb’s lead, it took you a while to get to the planet he’d told you about. You’re afraid Din’s already left when you finally land on the planet near one of the bigger cities. You spend all day asking around if anyone had seen him. When the days comes to an end, you’re in a bar. Sipping on your drink, you’re wondering what to do next, when you catch a few words from some people sitting at the table next to yours.
‘Yeah, of course I saw that. Do you know how much that Beskar armour is worth? We’d be rich.’
You immediately abandon your drink and head over to the table. The two men sitting at the table look at you. You feel uncomfortable as one of them takes his time to look at you.
‘Well, hello there, sweetheart.’ he says. ‘Can I buy you a drink?’ ‘You can if you tell me what I want to know.’ you say. ‘Have you seen a Mandalorian around here?’ ‘I sure did, sweetheart.’ he says. ‘Yesterday. He was getting a drink. Talked to someone for a while, then took off again.’ ‘Anything else?’ you say. ‘Yeah. He had a weird green dog with him.’ says the man.
‘Thank you.’ you say and you turn around and head towards the door of the bar. However, before you can reach it, you feel a hand grab a hold of one of your wrists.
‘I still need to buy you a drink, sweetheart.’ says a voice so close to your ear you can feel his breath on your ear. Within seconds, you flip his arm and pin him against the table, your blaster poking in his stomach.
‘How about next time, sweetheart?’ you say with a smile before pushing him away from you and exiting the bar.
Darkness is setting in as you’re heading back towards your ship. You knew Din’s ship wasn’t with the other ships of travellers passing by, you’d searched for it when you first arrived. 
When you’ve reached your own ship, you pack some essentials in your bag and head towards the forrest instead. You figured he’d lay low there for a while. These days he was one of the most wanted people in the entire galaxy. Leaving his ship next to a big city was basically sending a distress signal saying “I am here, come and get me”.
It’s dark in the woods, and you can barely see a thing. But you trust on your instincts and senses to lead you through the forrest. After some time of walking and occasionally stopping to see if no one followed you, you notice there are less trees. Every now and then you can see the stars through the leaves. 
You walk for a few minutes before you spot a big dark shadow ahead of you. There are no trees surrounding it, though no one but a skilled pilot who knew his ship well could land there. With one hand on your blaster, you slowly move closer to the ship. 
When you’re several feet away from the ship, a tall figure appears in front of you, aiming a blaster to your face. You’d be alarmed if it’d been anyone else. But you’ve spend too long around him to not recognise him. 
‘Hi Din.’ you say and you raise your hand to push his blaster away from your face. He doesn’t say anything, so you walk past him towards the Razor Crest. Just as you’re about to enter, you hear his footsteps catching up with you and his gloved hand grabs a hold of your arm, making you turn around.
His helmet is close to your face. ‘What are you doing here?’ he says. You’re so glad you’ve found him, you’re nowhere near intimidated by his actions. ‘I told you to leave.’ he says. 
‘And you think I’d listen to you?’ you say, failing to suppress a smile.
Once again, Din is glad he’s wearing a helmet. Otherwise you’d be able to see the immense relieve on his face. He can barely stay mad at you. Because he told you to leave and you found a way back to him. Though he’s relieved to see you, he’s also disappointed you’ve found him. He told you to leave for a reason. And though you didn’t know that reason, not really, you’re back.
‘Y/N, you need to leave.’ he says, keeping his voice steady and somewhat firm.
Again, he sees anger appear on your face and you pull your arm out of his grip.  ‘Are you fucking serious right now, Din?’ you say.  ‘Listen to me, Y/N, you-’ begins Din but you’re quick to interrupt him.
‘No, you listen to me Din!’ you say. ‘Do you know how much time I spent to get here? How much effort? First I had to spend two days alone in the desert with no food, no water whatsoever, then I spend almost all of the credits I had left on a ship which I flew from planet to planet talking to anyone who might have caught a glimpse of you or the kid. I spent months trying to track you, and just as I was about to give up, I overhead a conversation in a bar that was about you, and I headed to these woods and I found you, Din, I found you and you tell me that I need to leave again?’
‘Y/N, you don’t understand.’ says Din.  ‘Then explain it to me.’ you say, almost begging. When he’s silent, you get angry again. 
‘Why do you want me to leave? What could possible make you want to get rid of me?’ you shout, not even worrying about the fact someone could hear you.  ‘I’m staying, Din. Wether you like it or not.’ you say.
‘No.’ is all he says. ‘You can’t stay.’ ‘Why the fuck not?’ you yell at him, getting so close to him your forehead is almost touching his helmet. He takes a step back.
‘Come on, Din, you’re acting like a fucking child. If you don’t want me around, at least tell me why.’ you say. 
‘I was afraid!’ yells Din. This time, you’re the one to take a step back, looking at him. There it finally is, the reason why. But you still don’t understand. 
‘Afraid of what?’ you say. Your voice is calm again and to Din you sound like yourself again. No raised voice, no yelling. It’s your voice like it is in his memory. 
‘Afraid of you getting hurt.’ he admits. ‘I was afraid because I care too much about you. I felt like if something happened to you, if you got hurt - or worse, that would be on me. And I couldn't handle that. So I pushed you away. I needed to distance myself from you.’
All of the anger is gone as you look at the man standing in front of you. His helmet is lowered just as it did the last time you saw him. You slowly take a step closer to him. You hesitate for a moment, but then take his hand in yours. Din sighs so softly that you wouldn’t have been able to hear it if you weren’t standing so close to him. 
‘I’m sorry.’ he says. ‘I know I hurt you, I never meant to. I just figured that a life with me is no life at all. I wanted you to have a better life.’
‘Oh, Din.’ you breathe out. ‘Listen to me, if someone wants to be with you, nothing will keep them from being with you. If someone wants to be in your life, nothing will keep them from being with you, nothing, you hear me? You may think a life with you is worthless but I don’t think so. I’d love it.’
Din shakes his head. ‘You don’t understand. A life like mine? Forever? I can’t do that to you. You’d always be on the move, you wouldn’t be able to settle down and have a quiet life.’ he says.
‘What if I don’t want a quiet life?’ you say. ‘What if I want a life like yours?’ ‘I wouldn’t want that if I were you.’ he says. ‘I’ll take care of you.’ you say. Din shakes his head again. ‘It’s rotten work.’ he says. ‘Not to me. Not if it’s you.’ you say. 
‘Maker, Y/N, you make my life so much harder and so much easier at the same time. How do you do it?’ he says. ‘Driving you you crazy is part of the job.’ you say and Din chuckles. It’s a wonderful sound you haven’t heard in so long. 
Din lifts his helmet. You can’t see his eyes, but you’re sure he’s looking into yours. ‘What do you know about Mandalorian culture?’ he says. ‘Only the stories you told me, why?’ you say.  ‘Did I ever tell you about the Keldabe kiss?’ he says. ‘No.’ you say. ‘Tell me.’
‘It’s... a way to show affection and love.’ says Din. ‘You know that I’m not allowed to take off my helmet. The Keldabe kiss is a way to kiss someone without taking off my helmet.’
You’re quiet as you look at him. You’re still holding his hand. Inside your chest, your heart is beating rapidly. You’re surprised he can’t hear it. 
‘What’s it like?’ you say so softly your voice is barely audible.  ‘Like this.’ says Din. He moves his free hand an rests it on the back of your head. He softly pulls you towards him and rests his helmet against your forehead. 
It’s so simple, yet so intimate. It’s the closest you’ve ever been. You close your eyes, focusing on the cold Beskar armour against your skin. In all those hours you spent wondering why Din would push you away like that, you never once thought he would do it because he cared too much about you. 
After some time, Din pulls away but keeps his hand on the back of your head. ‘I’m sorry.’ he says. ‘Please never leave me again, cyar’ika.’ You smile when you look at him. ‘Is that also from your culture? What does it mean?’ you say. ‘Cyar’ika?’ he says and you nod. ‘It means...’ he’s silent as he searches for the right translation. ‘Beloved.’
You gasp quietly when you hear it and underneath his helmet, Din smiles at you. This time, you lean in to press your forehead against his helmet. ‘I like it.’ you say softly and Din squeezes your hand with his. 
‘Do you trust me?’ asks Din. ‘Yes.’ you say without hesitation.  ‘Close your eyes.’ he says. ‘And don’t open them until l say you can.’
You’re a little confused, but obey nonetheless. You close your eyes and feel Din pulling away his hands. You then hear a faint hiss and a click. This time, you gasp loudly, you know what he did.
‘Put it back on!’ you say. ‘You can’t take your helmet of in front of me!’ ‘Keep your eyes closed, cyar’ika.’ Din says.
His voice sounds different. It’s not modified by his helmet, it’s his true voice. You find yourself longing to hear more of it. You’re waiting for Din to say something, when you feel something instead. You never even dared to imagine what it’d feel like. 
You feel a pair of soft lips against yours. You’re surprised at first, but you quickly melt into his touch. Din can feel you smile through the kiss. Before you can stop yourself, you reach up to touch his face, but Din’s hands catch yours and he gently pushes them down. 
When he pulls away, you keep your eyes closed, still a smile on your lips. You hear a click again and Din’s fingers intertwine with yours. 
‘You can open your eyes again.’ says Din. And so you open your eyes, beaming up at him. ‘I couldn’t wait any longer.’ he says sheepishly and you smile even wider. 
‘What do you say, want to come with me again? I’ve still got to deliver the kid and it’d be nice to have some company.’ says Din. ‘Of course I want that.’ you say.  ‘Look, I’m really sorry. I hurt you and I-’ ‘It’s okay.’ you say. ‘You made up for it.’ 
Suddenly you feel something tugging on your pants and you look down at your feet to see the kid looking up at you. 
‘Hi there, little one.’ you say and you bend down to pick him up. ‘Missed me, did you?’ you say and the little creature looks at you with his big eyes. He snuggles closer to you and you notice his eyes are immediately getting heavier.
‘I still don’t know how you do that.’ says Din. ‘All you do is pick him up and he falls asleep.’
‘It’s just a feeling, I guess.’ you say, looking at the little kid in your arms. ‘This one looks as tired as I feel.’
You hold out one of your hands to Din while still holding the kid against your chest with the other. ‘Come on.’ you say. ‘You can use some sleep as well.’ ‘How do you know that?’ he says. You lift your head to look at him. ‘You probably haven’t slept since you landed on this planet.’ you say.
Din grabs your hand and allows you to guide him inside the Razor Crest.  ‘I forgot how well you know me.’ says and you smile. ‘I don’t think I could ever forget anything about you, Din.’ you say.
‘Oh, Maker. Don’t ever leave again, cyar’ika.’ says Din softly, sending shivers down your spine. ‘Well, if you don’t ask me to leave again, I promise you I’ll stay forever.’ you say and you smile at Din.  ‘Please do.’ says Din and he pushes his helmet against your forehead one last time.
A/N: If you want to request something, make sure to read my house rules Here’s the list of characters I write for. Everything that I have written can be found on my masterlist. Please don’t repost my work, as I spend much time and effort on it!! Thank you for reading!
Much love, Jo
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1234-angelika · 3 years ago
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Hospital Visits
an:Hey y'all! This ones coming out a little late, I meant it to be out yesterday but here we are. Still super excited for this week even though we're nearing the end. Still have some content coming out in the next few days for the series as a whole. This is the second installment in the Happily Ever After series for Luke. As always, enjoy!
words:1.2 k
warnings:canon-typical injury, mentions of canon-typical violence, hospital setting
summary:"There's a difference in living and living well. You can't have it all, all by yourself. Something's always missing, 'til you share it with someone else."-George Strait
masterpost|taglist|have an idea
Over the next two months, you often found yourself in the company of Luke and Roxy, who had both become good friends during that time.
It had become a routine to walk through the park whenever you were on your way home in hopes of running into the two of them. In those two months, it had happened just over a handful of times, but when it did, the three of you would hang out until the sun went down. You hadn't seen him for a couple of days, so you assumed he was just busy. He hadn't shared what he did for work. All you knew was that he was a former US Army Ranger.
You had started today bright and early. You were up and 'ate before the sun was even fully up. Being self-employed meant doing tasks that you wouldn't do in a typical 9-5 job. Monday meant payday so, after a hard gym session and a soothing shower, you set to work. First was balancing the books and determining final costs. Next was making the list of people to be paid, and last was sending out the payments. After all, was said and done, you felt like you could relax a little bit. You ordered yourself breakfast from your favourite restaurant and just chilled for the morning, with the occasional Instagram shot, of course.
Around noon, you began to get ready to actually do some work. You were filming another unboxing video, with packages leftover and some new from your PO box, and reviewing some clothing brands that had been sent to you. You got ready quickly but precisely, remembering that you were going to be on camera for hours and under the lights for just as long. After getting prepared, you set to work.
You worked for hours until finally, you took a short break to recharge. With some water, a snack and a bathroom break, you were ready to work again. As you set up for your next video, your phone rang. Startling you out of your concentrated state. The blocked number on the screen was enough to encourage you not to answer the phone but, your curiosity got the better of you.
"Hello?" You said, answering your phone.
"Is this Y/N Y/L/N?" Asked a cheery voice on the other end of the phone.
"Yeah. Sorry, who is this?"
"Darling, my name is Penelope Garcia. I work for the FBI—"
"FBI? Did I do something wrong?" You asked, panicked, trying to rack your brain for any reason the FBI would be calling you.
"—No, not at all. I understand that you know Supervisory Special Agent Luke Alvez," She answered in a soothing tone, helping you to calm down a bit but still not entirely sure why the FBI would call you, even if it was for Luke.
"I met him a few months ago but, I just know him as Luke. We usually hang out at the park with his dog…."
"Okay well, darling, he's been shot." She said, getting straight to the point.
"What?!"
"He was shot in the arm, he had surgery but the doctors said he will make a full recovery and he kept mumbling your name as he was coming out of the sedation. I'll send you the address of the hospital."
"Thanks Penelope…" You said, kind of numbly. Mostly just trying to absorb the information you had just been given.
"Good luck Y/N!"
You quickly changed out of the sample clothes and into a comfy outfit. Slipping on shoes hurriedly, you grabbed your purse and rushed out the door. After locking the door behind you, you went down to your car. Clicking on the location pin Penelope had sent you, you started up the GPS and set on the way to the hospital. You quickly got frustrated trying to find parking in the parking lot and decided to park on the street instead. You all but jogged into the hospital, looking for anyone who could provide you with an update. The head nurse just pointed you to an official-looking woman who was in the waiting room. You walked up to her and took some deep breaths before introducing yourself.
"Excuse me?"
"Yes?"
Pointing to the nurse's station, you said, "They told me you could give me an update on Luke Alvez."
"Who are you?"
"I'm Y/N Y/L/N, a friend of Lukes. Who are you?"
You didn't even finish your sentence before a look you couldn't quite make out made its way onto her face.
"I'm supervisory special agent Emily Prentiss. I'm Lukes boss, I can take you to him."
The two of you set off walking through the never-ending corridors. In the silence, questions just kept swarming your head. In an attempt to keep them at bay, you asked, "What happened to him?"
She turned, briefly looking at you before she said, "Officially, I can't say too much. In the course of apprehending our UnSub, he got shot. The bullet knicked his subclavian artery, which is basically the shoulder area. He'll have to stay at the hospital 3 days but the doctor said he will make a full recovery."
You knew you were the one who asked, and she was just answering your question, but, at that moment, you had never wanted to yell at someone more. Where was his partner—assuming he has one? How did this happen? You only noticed you arrived at his room when Emily stopped walking. She opened the door and led you into the room before walking back out. Leaving you alone, with a sleeping Luke, to wait. After a couple hours in the hospital and you began to get hungry. You were reaching out for the Jell-O on his tray table when a hand grabbed your wrist.
"Don't take the jell-o please," a groggy voice startled you the same way the hand had.
You turned to see if the voice had come from Luke, and to your surprise, you found his warm brown eyes looking back at you. Jumping up to hug him, you shrieked, "Luke!"
A little confused, he asked, "Y/N, when did you get here?"
"You kept muttering my name to the doctors when you were coming off of the anesthesia."
"Well, I've been thinking about you while I'm working."
"What about me?"
He took a deep breath, and you noticed his heart sped up as the monitor beeped faster.
"Y/N Y/L/N, will you go on a date with me?"
A smile blossomed on your cheeks, and a warmth spread throughout your body, and you said jokingly, "well, with you on your deathbed, how could I say no?"
taglist:@multixfandomwriter @myescapefromthislife
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pregnant-piggy · 4 years ago
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World Tour
Sirius Black x reader, band AU
Words: 12k
Written for @slytherinquill​‘s writing challenge!
A/N: I’ve been wanting to write a band AU for so long now and here it is! I worked really hard on it and I so hope you like it!
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Never in your whole life had you thought that you would get where you are right now; rushing through the airport with no one less than James Potter, the guitarist of the world famous band The Marauders.
You had been a fan of them for years, ever since they started. You watched them grow from little teenage boys doing covers on YouTube to the twenty-four year olds they were now, selling out arenas. The aforementioned James Potter and his electric guitar were a golden combination, Remus Lupin mastered the art of playing the bass, Peter Pettigrew never missed a single beat on the drums and then you had Sirius Black. Lead singer. He looked like how you would imagine one; thick, black hair, angelic bone structure, mysterious eyes and a voice like a child of the devil and an angel. To say that thousands of girls were just fan of him was an understatement.
Even you bore a little crush on him. But how could you not? The man was a god.
How you ever ended up in this situation was still vague to you. Not because you didn't know what had happened but because it all went so fast. Just a month ago you were still in your own apartment, plucking on your guitar, contemplating whether it was all worth it. You had been making music for years now and you had never had your big breakthrough. Though your friends and family told you that it would come and that you were a wonderful singer and your songs were amazing, you had been close to giving up. It was then that James reposted an Instagram video of you singing their song She's not mine and everything blew up. Your Instagram got a boost and the comments wouldn't stop. The Marauders' management hit you up, asked you to record a song with the men and a week later you were a big star.
The experience with the four men in the studio was something you had never done before. You wrote your songs in the safety of your bedroom, where all the failed ones never left. Now you suddenly had been surrounded by four professional artists plus another three songwriters. The song was written in three days, the title Don’t rush assigned to it, and recorded in two. The sixth day was a day for rest, that you had spent at Remus' house with him and Peter. You had gotten to know the men better. You had learned that James had an obvious crush on the manager's assistant, Lily, that Peter lived with his parents because he didn't see the need of buying a house when he was away all the time, that Remus had learned how to play the bass from his grandfather and pictures had shown that that man was the embodiment of rock'n'roll-grandfather, and that it was Sirius who had come up with the idea of starting a band.
The seventh day had been release day. The song came out at midnight and you had anxiously waited at home with your roommate, Tiffany, until it was time. She had been the biggest fan of the song at the first note and when your voice synchronised with Sirius' she had started to cry. She had kept on playing the song, while you got phone calls from your family and friends.
To promote the new song you and the boys had visited radio station after radio station. You had existed on coffee that day; you had promptly fallen asleep in your living room at three in the morning, while Tiffany was still gushing over your song and the fact that you had met The Marauders, and you had to be at the first studio at 6 AM. Coffee had been your saviour.
Interviews were something you had never done before, just like anything you had gone through that week. At the first radio stations, the boys had taken you under their wings, helping you with answers and pushing you in the right direction. Over the day you had learned how to act in interviews and how to laugh away questions, an useful skill you had noted as the interviewers had asked you about your personal life.
You had thought that that would be it. Or at least, that the song would be the end of your collaboration with The Marauders. They had explained to you that they were going on tour just three weeks later and that maybe they would invite you to one of their shows.
Of course you had been a bit sad to see it end there. In just that week you had grown to like those men a lot. You had spent a lot of time with them and your personalities matched. It was easy and fun to hang around with them.
So when the week was over and it had been time for you to get back to your normal life, that you thought would never be the same again, you had spent the first day home with Tiffany, telling her everything about your experience. You had stayed on the couch with her the whole day and fell asleep late at night, relaxing for the first time that week.
However you relaxation had not been long. The next morning you had gotten a call that had turned your life upside down and was the reason why you were at the airport now;
You were going on tour with The Marauders.
‘What took you so long?’ Remus asked, tilling his suitcase on the counter of the check-in desk.
You panted and bowed forward to catch your breath. James patted you on your back and brushed it lightly. ‘I lost my lock.’
‘You lost your lock?’ Remus said and he turned away from the lady behind the desk to see if James was serious.
The lady behind the counter watched the back of Remus’ head impatiently as this one burst into laughter and shook his head. Peter, who had noticed that the lady was looking rather grumpy and might have realised that she wouldn’t get any happier by the fact that there were more suitcases coming, pushed Remus back to the desk.
Meanwhile you had caught your breath and were standing straight up again. You pushed your suitcase behind Remus and stood next to him, waiting for him to finish with checking in his bags. ‘We lost it somewhere on our way and James wanted to get it back.’
‘How good a lock can it be if it fell off?’ Peter asked, raising his eyebrow so high that it disappeared behind his blond hair.
‘It wouldn’t have fallen off, if someone didn’t bump their suitcase into mine!’ James whined and he looked at you.
‘It was not my fault! You suddenly took a turn! What was I supposed to do? Jump over it?’ you asked sarcastically, sending James a smile.
It was your turn to check in and while you smiled at the grumpy lady, you apologised for making such a scene. She just shrugged and said nothing as she continued to weigh your suitcase and then pushed it to the space behind her desk, where the bags disappeared to be loaded into the airport. She handed you your boarding pass and then called for the next one.
- - - - - -
The air in the airplane was cold. You hid your hands in the sleeves of your sweater and wrapped your arms around your body. You were sitting next to the window and you looked outside. The plane had to take off yet, but you already felt the nerves rushing through your body like you always had when you were in plane. Not that it happened that often, but enough to recognise the feeling.
It was still early in the morning. The skies were just turning blue and there was dew on the windowpane. The first rays of sun broke through and the windows of the airport-building reflected the orange light.
You figured that this wouldn’t be the last time that you would be on a plane this early. Another city every day, or every two days, meant that you would be travelling a lot. But something about the cold and humid morning air was refreshing. The promise of another great day rose with the sun.
However, despite the fresh air and the rising sun, you were tired. You hadn’t slept a lot last night; Tiffany had thrown a little bon-voyage party and had invited your friends. Before the party you had had dinner with your parents. Your mother had cried tears of happiness as she had said goodbye and you just had hoped that was because she was happy for you. Your father had made you promise to him that you would be careful around the four men. You had laughed and told him that nothing would happen with them, but you had promised him, since you feared he wouldn’t let you go if you didn’t. The party Tiffany had thrown wasn’t big; just a few friends, but it had lasted till late at night and you had had to be at the airport at four o’clock.
Your sleep schedule was completely messed up and you feared that it wouldn’t go back to normal for a while.
The voice of the pilot sounded through the airplane and you were pulled from your thoughts. His calm voice soothed none of your nerves, instead only made them worse. You clasped the fabric of your sweater in your hands and took a deep breath as you closed your eyes.
‘If you’re scared of flying, we have a problem,’ James’ voice sounded next to you and you opened your eyes at him.
‘I am not scared of flying, don’t worry,’ you said, your voice quivering a bit. ‘I’m just nervous and excited for everything.’
‘I get that,’ James said, nodding his head. ‘I remember our first time going on tour. Remus knew the whole planning by heart and he took every opportunity to tell us it. Peter cried when he had to say goodbye to his parents; they’re very close you know?’
‘I heard,’ you said and James looked surprised at you. ‘He told me when I was at Remus’ a while back.’
‘Oh, right. Anyway, he cried and we did not hesitate to mock him about it. Poor guy had a terrible first day,’ James chuckled and his eyes glistened with mirth, ‘Sirius was nervous too, but he wouldn’t show it. To this day, he still thinks that we didn’t hear him whispering motivating words to himself before the show-’
‘I wasn’t!’
Sirius, who sat in front of you and James, turned around and looked at you through the space between the seats. You giggled and rested your hands on your thighs, not in your sides anymore.
‘You were!’ James cried out, while Sirius shook his head. ‘I clearly remember you telling yourself that you “could do it, because I am good”.’
Sirius opened his mouth and then closed it again. He shot James an angry glare and then turned back around in his seat, starting to talk to Remus. You looked at James and smiled. ‘What about you?’
‘Oh, I was nervous too. But I kept myself together quite well, if I say so myself.’
Remus and Sirius snorted in front of you and turned around in their seats. Their faces, as they looked at James like he had just told a joke, made you chuckle. James made sputtering sounds, but Remus cut him off before he could say anything.
‘He held my hand the entire flight and was so nervous for the first show that he forgot his lyrics in the first song.’
‘Remus!’                                                      
You laughed and nudged James playfully. ‘Come on, it’s funny! It could always be worse…’
‘What do you mean?’ James asked and Remus and Sirius looked curious at you. You shrugged and played with the sleeves of your sweater as you answered.
‘When I had my first performance, I threw up right before I had to go on stage. I had to play three songs while smelling like vomit.’
James and Sirius burst out into laughter and Remus shot you an apologetic look. You couldn’t help but smile as you watched James wipe away a tear from the corner of his eye. For a moment you had forgotten about the take-off and when you looked outside you realised that you were already in the sky. The airport was left behind and you watched the city get smaller and smaller with the seconds.
The little scene down on the earth had your attention until the plane flew into the clouds and you could see nothing but white. You turned back to James, who was watching a film on the little screen installed in the chair in front of him. He mouthed along the words of the protagonist as this one spoke.
You fished your earbuds out of your pocket and put on your music as you turned back to look outside. You pulled your knees up to your chest and closed your eyes for a second as the melody took over you.
Music always had a way to make you feel all the emotions at once. For you it wasn’t just a way to pass time, it was something so much bigger than that. Ever since you were young you had been singing. You had driven your parents crazy, though deep down they were happy to see you passionate about something at such a young age. Any music you could get your hands to, you would listen to. Your mother had dozens of records and you always asked her to play them. Often your brother had complained because he wanted to listen to different music than you. But with your angel eyes you could always win your parents for you.
Guitar lessons had seemed like the most logical thing for you. You had enjoyed learning the chords and soon you could play guitar better than your father, who had been trying to learn how to play for years then. At twelve you had started to write your own songs. Back then they were simple songs with simple lyrics about that one boy crush you had had. As you matured, so did your songs with you. More often they were about the things you felt and the darker periods in your life. Many times your mother had said that you had gift to turn emotions into words.
At the age of sixteen you had recorded your first cover. You had posted it on your Instagram account and then the anxious waiting had begun. A week it had been before someone had commented saying that you had a great voice and that they wouldn’t be surprised to hear more of you. You had been euphoric. After a month you had ten comments, all good ones.  The second video you posted was a cover of a song of The Marauders; Lies are fine. It was, at the time, your favourite song of them and to this day the song held a special place in your heart. Again you got some good comments, but for the first time in your life, you had read that someone didn’t like your voice. Now you were quite good at handling hate, but back then it had been enough to break you down. For a month you hadn’t sung and your friends had to show you all the good reactions for you to realise that it was just one opinion.
Ever since you had started to sing your own songs, you had felt liberated in a way. It was easier to sing your own words than someone else’s. The hate had gone on, of course it had, but you had built a wall in front of it. Only a few times something had broken the wall down and then it was patched up quickly again.
You had grown strong over the years and music had formed your life.
- - - - - -
The first place was New York. Management had wanted to start the tour with a big show. Two nights the band would perform at Madison Square Garden. The venue had been booked full both nights. There was not a single place left.
There was one day to install yourself in the city and to get used to the big stadium. You arrived in the city just as it was waking up. Cars were already driving like maniacs over the busy streets and you feared for your life as you looked out of the window of the van you were sitting in. Cars drove by fast and close. The so typical yellow cabs were the worst; driving almost straight into the sidewalk to stop for people and then racing away as soon as the passenger had taken their seat.
The driver of your van wasn’t much different either. He took sharp corners and only stopped abruptly for red lights. With ever turn he took you were pushed out of your seat, one time against the window, the other time against Sirius, who was sitting next to you.
As the driver took another turn, you shifted so you were practically in Sirius’ lap. You placed your hand on his leg not to fall over and his hands caught you.
‘Watch out, darling,’ he smirked when you pushed yourself back to your seat.
‘It’s not my fault that guy drives like he’s got a death wish,’ you grumbled and pulled the sleeves of your sweater over your hands. Sirius laughed and shook his head as he watched you shoot an angry glare at the driver’s head.
‘So got any plans for today?’ you asked, turning your gaze away from the man and looking at Sirius. ‘Other than checking out the venue?’
‘Not really,’ Sirius shrugged. ‘Why, do you got plans?’
‘My plan is to drop dead on my bed and sleep for the rest of the day,’ you said. ‘Care to join me?’
‘I don’t think there would be much sleeping when I’m in bed with you,’ Sirius smirked. ‘There’s no way you can resist me.’
You laughed and shook your head. ‘I don’t know, I seem to be doing fine now.’
‘That’s only what you think, darling. Deep down you’re burning with desire.’
‘Huh, so it seems…’
It was like this with all Sirius’ jokes around you. The flirtatious tone, winks, nicknames. You knew he was only kidding, but still the jokes made you get hot on the inside and a little flustered. You tried to comment back on him, but that didn’t work all times.
The van stopped at the hotel and the driver, much to your surprise, as you had thought that he would drive off the second you stepped out of the vehicle, took your suitcases from the back of the car.
Together with the boys you stepped into the luxurious hotel. The floors were white marble stones and on the ceilings hung golden chandeliers with crystals that sparkled in the sunlight that came through the big window at the front of the building.
It was a surprise to you how the hotel wasn’t loaded with fans yet. From what you had always heard, fans would find out where artist were staying before even they knew. But there was no one on the streets and not one of the people in the lobby looked up when your group walked in.
Your footsteps echoed in the silent hall. You felt utterly underdressed in your sweater and black jeans as you looked around you and saw women in neat dresses and men in suits. You tried to fix your hair, which you feared was peeking out on all sides. Your fingers untangled a tiny knot while you listened to the manager talk to the receptionist.
‘Alright, your rooms are on the fifth floor. Two to six. Tonight we’ll go to the venue but I’ll text you the details,’ the manager said and handed you, Sirius, Peter, James and Remus a room key.
Your room was number six, on the corner of the building so you had windows on two sides. It was by far the most luxe hotel room you had ever stayed in and you were a little disappointed you would only stay here for three days. Though it wasn’t a massive room –it only existed of a bathroom and a bedroom with a small corner where a big chair stood –it looked like everything, from the rug on the floor to the paintings on the walls, was more expensive than your apartment.
You opened the curtains in front of the windows that lead to your balcony, that was connected to the balconies of the others, and the light washed over the room. It was only ten in the morning, but sleep took over you as soon as your head hit the pillow. You didn’t even change; all you had done was take off your shoes.
- - - - - -
Anxiously you sat in the dressing room, staring at yourself in the big mirror that covered one side of the wall above the dressing tables. The round, yellow light bulbs that surrounded the mirror were reflected in your eyes.
You were nervous. More nervous than you thought you would be. The silence in the room only added to your anxiety. The boys had been called away for a moment, to take a last view of the stage before the stadium filled with fans.
Your phone lied open on the sofa next to you. Maybe you shouldn’t have gone through Twitter, but you just couldn’t resist. There were a lot of people wishing you good luck, but you also saw some tweets saying that taking you with The Marauders on tour was the worse decision they had ever made. Doubts had started to play in your head and now it was all you could think about in that silent room.
Luckily the silence was broken when your phone started to ring. Scaring up from the sound you almost fell of the couch as you looked around the room to see what it was. Quickly you noticed your phone and a feeling of relieve washed over you as you read your roommates name on the screen.
‘Y/N! WHERE ARE YOU? ARE YOU AT THE VENUE YET? ARE THEY THERE?!’ Tiffany yelled through the phone before you could even say hi to her.
‘Nice to talk to you too, Tif,’ you laughed. ‘I am at the venue actually. The show’s in two hours.’
‘I know, I wanted to talk to you before all the madness begins. How are you holding up?’
‘Nervous. What if I mess up? What if I forget the lyrics? What if I do something embarrassing on stage? There are so many people who will see it.’
‘Don’t worry, sweetheart,’ Tiffany said. ‘You have had performances before and the guys wouldn’t have asked you if they didn’t think you were any good.’
You sighed and smiled to your phone, though Tiffany couldn’t see it. You asked about home and while Tiffany started to tell you about your friends, you heard some noises coming from the hall. Not two seconds later, the door of the dressing room burst open and a laughing James and Sirius entered, followed by Peter and Remus, who had a smile on their face, but weren’t as much laughing as their two friends.
You took one glance at them and then turned back to your phone, catching Tiffany’s last words. ‘…so now I have to visit her parents, while she is away with Jason. Can you believe it?’
‘What can I say, I always thought she was weird,’ you answered and only now the boys seemed to notice you were on the phone. They silenced and watched you as you awkwardly continued to talk to Tiffany. ‘Just be careful around her, okay? I don’t want to see you all caught up in her things, when she is out having fun. You’re better than that.’
‘I know,’ Tiffany sighed and then there was a silence. ‘Well, call me tomorrow, okay? I want to hear everything!’
‘I will. Goodbye, I love you,’ you said and put down your phone after Tiffany had said her goodbyes too.
The four men were looking at you expectantly, but you ignored their looks and walked to the corner of the room, where a little fridge stood, to grab a bottle of water. You felt their eyes pricking in your back and when you turned around you were met with four staring gazes. You suppressed a smile and sat back down on the couch, next to Sirius.
‘So, everything settled for later?’ you asked, taking a sip from your water.
You met Remus’ eye and he noticed you were teasing them. Everything about their faces told you that they wanted to know who you just told ‘I love you’ to, but you wouldn’t give in so easily. Remus shot you a smile and then started to talk about the stage, taking the other three’s attention of the cause for a while.
It was only an hour later, as James, Peter and Remus were out checking their instruments, the subject of your phone call came back. You were walking up and down in the room and Sirius was lying on the couch, his eyes focused on his phone. You were softly rehearsing your text one more time, as the nerves were making their way up to your throat now. You feared that if you didn’t find a way to calm down soon, you would not even be able to sing.
‘Who was that on the phone?’ Sirius asked out of nowhere, startling you in your walking.
‘Why?’ you asked, tilting your head to the side.
‘Just curious who the subject of your love interest is.’
‘Don’t be jealous, you know you’re the only one,’ you smirked and grabbed an empty water bottle. Your fingers played with the label on it for a few seconds and then you threw it away.
‘No boyfriend then?’ Sirius asked and you stared at him for a minute before you shook your head. ‘Come sit,’ Sirius ordered while he pushed himself up from the couch and patted the empty space next to him. Hesitantly you sat down next to him. ‘I won’t bite,’ Sirius laughed. ‘Unless you’re into that of course.’
You blushed and shook your head, not able to keep the scoff inside your mouth. Staring at your hands you took a deep breath. Sirius’ gaze was focused on the side of your face and when you breathed out he placed a hand on your back, rubbing it lightly. You felt butterflies fly up in your stomach and you closed your eyes for a second.
‘You don’t have to be nervous, darling. You have a beautiful voice, you fit really well with the group and not to mention you’re gorgeous,’ Sirius said and his hand kept still on your back. The blood rushed to your cheeks and you smiled, looking up to Sirius as you opened your eyes again.
‘Thank you,’ you whispered.
‘And if that doesn’t help, you can always imagine everyone naked. That helps in all situations,’ Sirius added with a wink, his eyes gliding over your body for a second.
‘I’m going to strangle you,’ you said with a laugh, pushing Sirius away from you.
‘Is that a threat or a promise? Stop confusing me,’ Sirius said, his smirk evident on his face. You got up from the couch and walked to the door, swaying your hips exaggerated and throwing your hair over your shoulder as you looked back at him. His eyes were focused on your bum and you smirked as you stepped through the door.
‘Whatever you want it to be, dear,’ you said before disappearing and your smile grew at hearing Sirius sigh as his body hit the cushions of the couch.
- - - - - -
The crowd was cheering and yelling as The Marauders played a song from their newest album, Disaster. You mouthed along the words while you stood backstage, watching the band play from the side. They performed with such a passion and love for their music that you couldn’t but smile. You had seen their performances countless of times online and you had been at a show once, but that was four years ago. In those four years they had grown from teenage boys to men. Their style had matured with them, but still their music had something that had been there from the start; passion.
‘You’re up next,’ the stage manager told you and pushed you to the stairs that lead to the stage. You wrapped your hands around your waist and took in a deep breath. Someone pushed a microphone in your hand and pushed you even closer to the stairs, so you were almost standing on them now.
‘Our next song is one we’re particularly proud of,’ Remus said and from your place you could see James trying to calm the crowd down a little. ‘It’s something we have worked hard and specially fast on.’
The crowd eased a little and you felt your heart beating in your chest. This was it; the moment you had been waiting for ever since you started writing music. A big stadium filled with people who wanted to listen to your song.
‘Please welcome to the stage the lovely Y/N!’
With fierce steps you climbed the stairs. The view that came to your sight as you took your place next to Sirius was something that you already knew nothing in your life could top. Thousands of people cheered, yelled and screamed your name. There were lights from phones and cameras everywhere and you were blinded as a spotlight was placed on you.
Anxiously you turned to Sirius, who was standing next to you and he gave you a smile and a wink. You relaxed and even dared to smile at the crowd in front of you. You could hear the screaming of hundreds of girls somewhere in the section closest to the stage and you chuckled lightly, remembering what it was like to stand there and be so close to your favourite band.
‘You ready?’ Sirius mouthed at you and when you nodded he looked at Peter over his head, who started to tick his drumsticks to the beat of the song. The bass joined in and you forgot about the crowd as the tunes of the song you had worked so hard on the past month filled the stadium.
‘Don’t you think about me tonight
I’ll still be there in the morning
In the sunrise we’ll reunite
Our heads empty and dark inside’
Every last nerve that you had disappeared as the first words left your mouth. At the first verse, the crowd was totally silent, never having heard you live before. But when you sang the last word of the verse, they burst loose and the screaming filled your arms, likely to be remembered for a lifetime.
As you looked at the people in front of you, you realised why singers loved touring so much. The adrenalin that filled your body before now had turned into excitement and utter happiness as you heard all the people sing along with you. The words left your mouth without thinking and you interacted with Sirius as if you had been doing so your entire life. His grey eyes were what you were focused mostly on as you sang the words of the chorus together, your voices synchronising in a way no one had ever heard before.
‘Don’t rush
I will wait for you
Take time
Leave your love behind’
You smiled at Sirius and he smiled back at you, the first honest and happy smile you had gotten from him and you were enchanted. All his smiles had been smirks and sarcastic grins till now, but this was a sight that was just as impressing as everything that was happening around you. And as Sirius took over and his smile disappeared as he sang further, you realised that you would anything to just see that smile again.
‘So just take your time
Cause I’ll wait for you’
The last notes sounded through the stadium. Sirius took you in his arms and lifted you off the ground as he spun you around. You laughed relieved and excitedly and pressed a kiss on Sirius’ cheek when he put you back down again. The audience screamed like it was the end of their life and you felt like crying, so happy.
- - - - - -
The sunlight was shining through the curtains in front of the windows. It was still early in the morning. Early meaning 6.30 AM.
The alarm on your phone woke you from your sleep. Sitting up, you rubbed your eyes and searched with your hand for the phone on your nightstand. Your hand passed various objects before it found the phone. With a sigh you turned off the alarm and plummeted back in your pillow.
The high of last night still hadn’t fully disappeared and when you thought about it, you still got butterflies in your stomach. It was surreal to you to see the thousands of people in that concert hall, all singing along to a song that you had helped writing, that you were singing.
And maybe the high would have stayed all day, if you didn’t have to get up so early in the morning. But you would not complain. You were on tour with a world famous band. This was your dream and if that meant getting little sleep and early mornings, then so be it.
An interview had been planned for eight o’clock, but you had to be there at least twenty minutes earlier. Another sigh escaped your mouth as you got up from your bed and stumbled to the bathroom.
Surprisingly, you didn’t even look so bad for so little sleep. The bags under your eyes were not even that dark and though your hair was a big mess, you looked like you had at least a six hour sleep. Which you hadn’t.
After the show, the boys and you had had a little party with the crew to celebrate the first show. It had been fun to learn everyone better. You had talked to Lily, the manager’s assistant and the girl James had a crush on. She was really nice to you and you hit it off well. You laughed with her at James’ lame attempts to ask her out, what made James a little annoyed as he was sitting close to you and listening to your conversation.
The hot water of your shower relaxed your muscles. You let the warm water stream over your face, the drops rolling over your cheeks and nose. You washed your hair and when you breathed in the scent of your shampoo that was spreading in steam through the whole bathroom, you were in a different world for a moment.
You were so deeply concentrated that you didn’t hear someone entering your room, until the person knocked on your door and you were startled from your daydream.
‘Who’s there?’ you asked loudly, making your voice clear over the running water.
‘Sirius,’ the answer was.
‘Hold on a minute!’ you yelled and finished your shower.
As the water was turned off a silence filled the bathroom. You reached for your towel and dried your body as quickly as you could. You turned around to take your clothes and then you realised that you had left them in the bedroom, since you had not expected any company so early in the morning.
Cursing under your breath you wrapped the towel around your body and brushed your hair so it looked at least a little presentable. You unlocked the bathroom door and barefooted you walked to your bed, where Sirius was sitting, playing with the remote of the television.
You tried to ignore the blush on your face as you made your way over to your suitcase and took your clothes out of it, your back to Sirius. You could feel his gaze on your body as you bowed forward to grab a shirt.
‘What’s up?’ you asked, killing the awkward silence.
‘I was wondering if you were awake yet,’ Sirius answered and he quickly averted his eyes when you turned back around.
‘I was,’ you said and you smiled at Sirius. You walked back to the bathroom to get dressed, but let the door open so you could talk to Sirius.
‘So how’d you sleep?’ Sirius asked, his voice echoing on the tiles of the room you were in.
‘Fine, little, but good,’ you mumbled.
You informed after Sirius’ sleep and after that a silence fell over the two of you. You were doing your make-up in the mirror, not having your shirt on yet in case you’d drop your mascara, which unfortunately happened more often than you liked, while you listened to the news anchor talking about a robbery in a local supermarket.
The silence was broken by your phone that had started to ring. Your hand flinched at the sudden sound and the brush of your mascara shot up against your skin, making a big black stain below your eyebrow. You quickly grabbed a towel and cleaned the black make-up from your face as the phone kept on ringing.
‘It’s yours…’ Sirius said from the bedroom.
‘Gimme,’ you muttered, lowering the towel from your head. You left the bathroom and walked to where Sirius was sitting with your phone in his hand. Immediately you recognised Tiffany’s picture on the screen and you smiled to yourself. You took the phone from Sirius and raised your eyebrow at him as he was staring at you. It was only then you realised that you were wearing nothing but a bra and pants. You scoffed and pushed Sirius back on the bed, making him flash his smirk at you. You rolled your eyes and answered your phone.
‘Y/N, YOU’RE ALL OVER THE INTERNET!’ Tiffany screamed through the phone. ‘HAVE YOU SEEN IT YET? I’M SURE YOU HAVE! YOU NEED TO TELL ME EVERYTHING!’
You chuckled at your friend’s enthusiastic voice, that was so loud Sirius probably had heard it too. ‘Tiff, Tiff, relax please,’ you eased her. ‘Listen, I have to get ready, so I’ll give you to Sirius for five minutes, alright?’
‘y/n, don’t you dare-’ Tiffany started, but you had already given the phone to Sirius, who had his mouth open when he got the phone from you. You gave him a smile and disappeared in the bathroom again.
Continuing with your make-up, you listened to Sirius talking to Tiffany, who was probably going to kill you when you got back home. You couldn’t hear the other side of the conversation, but Sirius laughed a few times and by his words the conversation seemed to flow quite easily.
Once you were totally dressed, you got back to the bed and sat down next to Sirius who quickly gave your phone back.
‘Love, it’s me again,’ you said and Tiffany sighed relieved.
‘y/n, I swear, the next time I see you…’
You laughed, while you put on your shoes. Catching Tiffany up with what had happened last night, you walked with Sirius to breakfast.
‘Your friend’s a handful,’ Sirius said after you had hung up on Tiffany.
‘She is, but she’s wonderful and has been nothing but supportive ever since I met her. I couldn’t wish for a better friend,’ you said as you stepped into the hall where they served breakfast. You sat down next to James, who was already sitting there with Remus.
Sirius sat down next to you and poured you coffee from the can that stood on the table. ‘I’ve got to say, I am a little disappointed you decided to put on a shirt, darling,’ Sirius grinned and next to you James choked on his orange juice.
‘Excuse me?’ he coughed.
You patted him on his back and shook your head. ‘Nothing, Sirius just can’t get the picture of me in my bra out of his head.’
‘I don’t think anyone ever could, dear.’
‘Sirius, please,’ Remus said. ‘It’s breakfast. Save your jokes for later.’
‘And how is it a joke, Rem?’ Sirius asked looking at his friend over his cup.
- - - - - -
‘Welcome back to Sirius XM, where we are currently joined by no one less than The Marauders and y/n, who is joining the band on their tour! Their new song Don’t rush, is out since a month and last night was the first show, kicking off The Marauders’ world tour. We have all five of them in our studio!’
The two radio hosts, whom you had learned were Raj and Marshall, sat on the other side of the table. You sat on the far left with Remus next to you. Since the studio wasn’t exactly built for five guests, you and Remus had to share a microphone, just as Sirius and James had to. The only difference was that you and Remus were both mature enough to let each other talk, while Sirius and James kept pushing the mic in the other’s nose.
‘Peter, starting with you. Are you excited for this tour? Any cities you are looking forward to visit?’ Marshall asked.
‘I am really excited for tour, yes. This album is something we worked really hard on and I think I speak for all of us when I say that this might be the best we have written so far,’ Peter answered, a smile spreading on his face as he talked about the album. ‘That being said, I am looking forward to every city we will visit. Every show is special and every crowd is awesome.’
‘Remus, Peter says this album is your best yet. Care to weigh in?’
‘I agree with Pete. We poured our heart and soul into this album and I really love how it turned out in the end. This music is different than our previous albums, but I think that doesn’t make it any less better. These songs are more about ourselves, about our insecurities and fears, but also about our happy moments.’
‘It’s our up and downs,’ James chimed in and Remus nodded.
‘Yes. And I think that is the beauty of it. It has something that everyone recognises. Nobody’s life is perfect and nobody lives on “ups” alone. We wanted to create something that shows that’s it’s okay to feel down or scared. It is okay to be insecure, because everyone is,’ Remus said and the other three boys nodded.
‘y/n,’ Raj said. ‘As a listener of the album, someone who didn’t know the thought behind the album, did you feel the same way when you listened to it?’
‘I did,’ you answered. ‘I first listened to the album alone at midnight, when it was released, and I am not ashamed to say that it definitely brought me to tears. I really think the guys got the message across.’  
Remus nudged you thankfully and you smiled at him, as Raj asked Sirius and James about a particular song. You listened with interest and smiled at the passion that the men had as they talked about their music.
‘And then y/n came into the picture, working with you on Don’t rush, which is a banger by the way. y/n, how was it working with the band?’ Raj asked.
‘It was all very new to me. I am used to writing songs on my own and now there were suddenly a lot of people around me. But it was an experience I will never forget.’
‘Did you have a lot of influence on the song?’
‘I think we all equally contributed to the song. The meaning behind it is definitely one that I recognise. We all tend to rush into the things that seem exciting and in doing so we often forget the way we get there. It is important to take your time and I think the song described that perfectly.’
‘James, how was working with her? What was she like?’
‘She was such a good person, not like us,’ James grinned and Sirius sniffed. ‘It was refreshing to work with y/n. She took us all back to that feeling we had when we first started writing songs. I think in a way she has improved us all, because she made us stand still and look at how much we have accomplished already. Sometimes you forget to look at that when your life is so busy. I am forever thankful for the friendship I have built with her.’
‘You’re gonna make me cry here, James,’ you said and wiped away a tear from your eyes. Remus put his arm around you and placed a kiss on the side of your head, while the others chuckled at you.
‘Sirius and y/n, we have to talk about your performance last night,’ Marshall said and he looked at you and Sirius. ‘I assume you have seen the way social media exploded after last night’s show?’
You nodded and chuckled as you thought back of the reaction of your friends and family. Your brother had sent you a video of your parents watching your performance for the first time and their reaction warmed your heart. Your mother was jumping around and had waved her arms through the air and your father had stood watching the video with tears on his face.
‘Fans have been speculating all around and I hope I am not crossing any boundaries here, but I do have to ask,’ Raj said and he leaned forward over the desk. ‘Are you two together?’
A silence fell over the studio as you looked at Sirius. He smirked at you and you smiled as you shook your head. ‘No, were not,’ you said and Raj frowned.
‘Really? You seemed to have quite some chemistry on the stage.’
‘The art of music,’ Sirius shrugged. ‘It can make anyone believe anything.’
- - - - - -
At the next show you were more relaxed. Now the nervousness of the first show was gone, you had found that you quite enjoyed the adrenalin that was rushing through your veins right before you went on stage. And even better was the joy that filled you when you stood on the stage.
Singing the song with Sirius had something magical to it. It wasn’t just the crowds that screamed the lyrics along or the music that reached to your bones. No, the best part was the smile that Sirius wore when he looked at you. For a moment you forgot everything around you when Sirius flashed you that smile.
The band played show after show and travelled all through North America. The cities you passed were all greater than the other. You went to places you had always wanted to visit and met new people.
The other thing that was just as fun as singing on a big stage every night, was meeting all the fans. And not even The Marauders’ fans; you had even met people that were fan of just you. People asking for pictures with you, for your autograph, anything. It was a new experience for you, but you adored every one of them. It had thrown you off at first when someone told you that you had saved their life, but the band had taken you under their wings and had explained how to deal with such situations.
You were beyond thankful to have those four guys around you. You had learned so much from them and you knew that you would have never made it if it wasn’t for their help.
In the time you spent with the boys, preparing before the show, talking after, the interviews, sleeping on the tour bus together, you really got to know them. You learned so much about them in such a little time and you were sure that even after the tour you would stay friends with them. You teased each other continuously , but where the teases with Remus, James and Peter were all innocent, with Sirius there was always another layer to them. Always a smirk or a wink. Not that you minded; you liked the little jokes and innuendos.
And if you were completely frank with yourself, you just liked Sirius.
- - - - - -
It was long dark as you lied in the uncomfortable bed of the tour bus. You were glad to at least have a bed and not have to sleep on a couch or something, but you had to admit that sleeping was very hard on those things.
You stared at the empty ceiling that was way too close to your face for your liking and thought of what you had read earlier.
You had been warned before not to believe the things people on social media said, but that was easier said than done. How could you not let those hateful words get to you?
Though you had dealt with hate comments more, these had been worse than ever before. There were people saying that you couldn’t sing and that you were ugly and fat, but that was nothing new. The things that hurt you the most were the people that said you were just on tour with the guys because you were an easy lay. Someone even said that you were just there to help them blow off some steam.
A tear escaped your eye and rolled over your face to fall on your pillow. You sighed sadly and got up. You jerked away the curtains before your bed and stepped out of it, bumping your head in the process. You cursed something under your breath as you walked to the back of the bus, where there was place to sit.
‘Who hurt you?’ Sirius chuckled as you sat down sighing.
He was lying on the couch in his grey sweatpants and an old T-shirt with his headphones in. He had a smile on his mouth, but that changed when he saw how you were looking. He took of his headphones and threw his phone to the side.
‘What’s wrong?’ he asked genuinely.
‘It’s nothing,’ you muttered, playing with the edge of your sweater sleeves. ‘Just stupid people that suggest I’m a slut.’
‘What?’ Sirius asked and he moved closer to you.
You took out your phone and showed him the tweets. Sirius cursed out loud when he read them and he threw your phone behind you on the couch. He took your hands and forced you to look at him.
‘Listen to me,’ he said, his voice low. ‘You are not a slut, okay? You are the most incredible woman I have ever met. You are magnificent, lovely, beautiful, intelligent, witty and you have the most beautiful voice. My dear, if I couldn’t hold you in my arms, I would believe you are an angel.’
You smiled through your tears and wrapped your arms around Sirius’ neck.
‘They are just pity, little, jealous people that have nothing better to do in their lives. I wish I could protect you from them, but there will be more. Will you just promise me one thing?’ Sirius asked and you pulled away from him. ‘Never listen to them. Never doubt yourself. If you weren’t a good singer I wouldn’t have asked for you to come to tour with us.’
‘You asked for that?’ you said surprised.
‘Uh, yeah,’ Sirius said and he suddenly became a little awkward. ‘I had such fun writing with you, and the guys too, and I could not stop working together with you after just one song. So I asked out manager if you could tour with us.’
You smiled thankfully at Sirius and pressed a kiss to his cheek. ‘Thank you, Sirius. And I promise. If I’m good enough for Sirius Black to come to tour with him, I am good enough to not believe those haters.’
‘You’ll always be good enough for me, darling,’ Sirius said with a wink and he got his usual cocky smile back. ‘Even better, if I say so.’
He wrapped his arm around your shoulder and you leant in to his chest. His cold fingers rested on your forearm and you felt a sparkle rushing through your body. You tried to ignore the little butterflies in your stomach, but the longer you sat with Sirius, the bigger they became.
‘I like having you here,’ Sirius said, his deep voice reaching to your bones.
‘You do?’
‘Yeah, you’re a refreshment from James’ lame jokes, Remus’ boring facts and whatever Peter tells. He’s not a great storyteller, that man.’
‘Well, I like being here,’ you said, turning a little so you could look at Sirius. His arms lowered and his hand rested on your hip as you leaned with your elbow on the back of the couch. You draped your legs over Sirius’ lap and played with his curls as you talked. ‘I do miss my family and friends though. Talking on the phone and face timing is not the same as actually being with them.’
‘I know, I hear the guys complain about that too.’
‘You not?’
‘No, I don’t talk to my family anymore.’
‘Oh,’ was all you said and you stopped twirling his black curls around your finger as you looked at him. ‘I’m sorry, I didn’t know.’
‘It’s alright,’ Sirius smiled at you. ‘I left home when I was seventeen, moved in with James, lived there for a while before I got my own place. I got the perfect tragic background for an artist.’
You chuckled sadly and reached for Sirius’ hair again. There was a silence that stretched out through the whole bus. You stared at the black hair in your hands while you tried to ignore Sirius’ gaze on you.
‘Thank you for telling me,’ you whispered as if breaking the silence was a crime. Sirius nodded and rested his head back into your hand. He closed his eyes as your nails scratched his skin. It was something you used to see your mother do to your father when he was upset and you did it to your brother when you were younger.
‘I should go back to bed,’ you said after a while and made effort to get off the couch.
‘Or you could stay here,’ Sirius said as he pulled you back against his chest, making you fall on top of him on the sofa. ‘Those beds suck. I am far more comfortable.’
The couch was deep enough for two people to lie next to each other and you settled close to Sirius, his chest against yours.
‘Well, I can’t disagree with that,’ you grinned as you buried your neck in his chest.
Sirius placed his arm over your waist and pulled you closer to him. You listened to his heartbeat and you quickly found yourself dozing off.
‘Goodnight, love,’ Sirius whispered, placing a kiss on the top of your head.
‘Goodnight, Sirius.’
- - - - - -
One benefit of touring with a band was that there was always someone around. If you wanted to play a game you could go to James, if you wanted to have a conversation you could go to Remus, for fun stories Peter was available and Sirius was always there if you needed a cuddle.
You appreciated the company but you were also glad if you had some time alone. And though that was hard as you woke up in a bus with the men, rehearsed, spent free time with them, then played a show with them and after that hung out with them until you fell asleep in the same bus, only for the cycle to start again the next day, there were some moments that you were alone. Like when you got coffee in the morning for everyone, while the boys were still asleep. Or if they decided to practice on the stage longer and you could sneak off to the back of the bus with a book. Those were little moments of peace that you found yourself enjoying more and more as the tour continued.
However, you were immensely grateful for all the fun moments you had with the band. You were basically living your lifelong dream right now and you’d be an idiot if you didn’t realise that. You got to see what it was like to have fans all around the world, to have people come up to you and ask for a photo, to be recognised in the streets. At first it had been a bit weird to you, but over the time you had learned how to handle such situations and how to say ‘no’.
Maybe that was the hardest part. Saying no. You knew that you had to set boundaries between personal and public life, but if someone came up to you, you were quick to take a photo with them or to talk to them. The guys taught you that it was important for yourself to sometimes just say no. Your fans had to respects your boundaries and if they didn’t then they couldn’t be called your fans.
- - - - - -
‘Ready for tonight?’ Peter asked as he sat down next to you and handed you a cup of tea.
‘Thank you. Yeah, I think I am. My family’s coming over, so I’m really excited,’ you answered.
This night, Tiffany, your brother and your parents were coming over to see your show. You had been talking to Tiffany over the phone for the past time and she was super enthusiastic to see the show. You had gotten them backstage-passes so they could see you before the show.
‘Are we gonna meet them?’ James asked, taking place on your other side.
‘Oh, you’re not going to get out of that,’ you chuckled. ‘Tiff is asking about you guys all the time.’
‘Tiff, eh? And what’s she like?’ Sirius asked as he pushed Peter aside to sit next to you. ‘Anything we might enjoy?’
There it was, that cheeky wink that made your stomach turn upside down. Combined with the smirk that seemed to be glued to his face.
‘Oh, I don’t know,’ you said. ‘She’s pretty fond of Remus.’
You grinned back at him and he wrapped his arm around your shoulder. A shiver ran down your spine as you felt your butterflies in your stomach. The blood rushed to your cheeks and you tried to play it cool by starting a conversation with Remus and James.
Sirius was listening to your conversation while his fingers drummed on your upper arm. He hummed a song and you felt the bass of his voice thrumming in your chest. He brought his head closer casually and his voice was closer to your ear. Subconsciously you placed your hand on his thigh and his humming stopped. He twisted his head to you and you looked up from your conversation with the others.
‘What?’ you asked when you saw Sirius was raising his eyebrow at you.
His eyes shifted to your hand and then back to your face. ‘Enjoying yourself?’
You gave his thigh a little squeeze and smiled. ‘Very much.’
He opened his mouth to say something but nothing left his mouth. A smirk formed on your face when you turned back to your conversation. James cocked his eyebrow at Sirius and you heard the latter sniff next to you.
The ringing of your phone caught your attention. You jumped up from the couch, Sirius’ hand falling off your shoulder and sliding along the curve of your body, and you reached for your phone on the other side of the dressing room.
Tiffany’s voice was yelling through the room as you answered your phone, telling you that she and your family had landed and were on the way to their hotel. ‘It’s so great here, honey! I can’t wait to see you! I am so- What do you want?! Och, just leave me alone for a second!’
You laughed at Tiffany’s angry words as you heard your brother’s voice in the back. You knew she had always had a thing for him. Every time he came over she always made sure she was at her best. You had teased her endlessly about it. She made dinner for him countless times and always gave him a little more than the other guests. She was always stealing glances at him and sitting next to him, their legs pressed together.
But you didn’t think your brother minded. He liked her just as much if not more. And you teased him with it too. But he was reluctant of his feelings. Though he seemed to flirt with Tiffany now, from what you could hear.
Lily, the assistant, knocked on the door and when it opened revealed her head. She, when she noticed you were on the phone, whispered something to the men on the other side of the room. Tiffany was still talking to you about how much she liked wherever she was right now and you let her ramble on, turning to the guys to ask what Lily said.
‘We have to leave in five minutes,’ Remus mumbled.
‘Tiff, I have to go, honey,’ you said, cutting off Tiffany’s speech. ‘Okay? I’ll talk to you later. Love you.’
- - - - - -
The crowd was making a lot of noise as they filled the hall. You stood backstage in the hallway of the dressing room, but you could still hear them. You could feel the nerves slowly rising in your body. This wouldn’t be a night any different from the other nights the past month, but yet you felt more nervous than normal.
Anxiously you paced up and down in front of the door of the dressing room, waiting for your family and Tiffany to arrive. Your brother had sent you a text, saying that they were at the venue but after that you hadn’t heard from him.
Maybe that was why you were nervous. You had never played for such a big crowd with your family there. They had been at many of your little shows, but never one this big. You knew they were proud of you and that they would like it, but you couldn’t stop the nerves.
‘Darling, calm down. What are you so nervous for?’ asked Sirius as he left the dressing room and found you walking up and down.
He lifted his arms and you buried your face in his chest, as he wrapped his hands around your waist. ‘I don’t know,’ you mumbled, hugging more tightly onto Sirius.
‘You’re a great singer, your family will love you, the fans love you, the band loves you,’ Sirius’ voice got to a whisper, ‘I love you.’
Maybe he thought that the crowds were so loud that you wouldn’t hear it. Maybe he thought that if he whispered you wouldn’t hear. Or maybe he wanted you to hear. You didn’t know what he thought, but you knew one thing.
You heard.
Your body froze for a second and you lifted your head from Sirius’ chest. You stared at him with big eyes and you were unable to answer. Unable to tell him that you loved him too. Because you loved him too. You had known for a while, but you were too scared to admit it to yourself.
Sirius stared back at you with questioning eyes. A tiny smile formed on your mouth but before you could say anything, you heard footsteps.
You let go of Sirius, your hands lingering on his body and your chest aching for letting him go, and at the same time your parents, brother and Tiffany came around the corner. Your friend launched herself at you and you caught her in your arms. She immediately started talking about how much she had missed you, how silent the house was without you and how all your other friends were jealous of you.
Tiffany was still talking while you hugged your brother, who looked at your roommate with a goofy smile. You pinched his cheek and stuck out your tongue at him before you whispered: ‘So are you together yet?’
Your brother immediately averted his eyes from Tiffany and stared at you. He scrunched his eyebrows together at you and hit you playfully on the head. ‘Are you together with Mr. Singer yet?’
Your happy smile disappeared for a second as you were reminded of the moment that was just interrupted. But your grin came back quickly and you laughed at your brother. ‘Hm, I think I have made more progress than you,’ you said mysteriously and you winked before you stepped to your parents.
‘Oh, princess!’ your mother exclaimed and she engulfed you in her tight embrace. ‘Your father and I are so proud of you! We have seen ever video of every show!’
You hugged your father and he pressed a kiss to the side of your head. ‘Good job, angel,’ your father said and your eyes watered up as you saw the tears in his.
‘And dare I say, you have quite the chemistry with that long haired man!’ your mother giggled. You looked over your shoulder at Sirius, who was occupied with Tiffany talking to him. He looked as distressed as when he first talked to Tiffany at your first night in New York. He caught your gaze and you waved at him before turning back to your parents. Your mother had a smug smile on her face and your father was looking over your shoulder at Sirius, with furrowed eyebrows.
‘Yes, Sirius has proven to be an absolute gentleman,’ you said, pulling your father from staring at Sirius. ‘You should meet the others too! Everyone is so nice!’
You saved Sirius from Tiffany, who seemed could not stop talking, and pulled your friend with you to the dressing room.
‘You have to tell me everything about you and my brother tonight,’ you whispered at her, while everyone else followed you. ‘And don’t tell me nothing has happened!’ you said when you saw her opening her mouth. ‘I know him and the way he looks at you tells me something has happened!’
Your family meeting The Marauders was as if your two families met. Your father immediately was drawn to Peter, your mother fussed over James, who was quickly saved by your brother and Tiffany sat down next to Remus. You winked at him and then raised your eyebrows at Tiffany and he burst out into laughter.
You sat down on the chair furthest away from everyone and watched the scene happily, though a little embarrassed at the way your family acted. The nerves that you had felt a while ago had gone and you were excited to play the show tonight.
After a while, James sat down next to you, after he was released from your mother’s conversation. He handed you a beer and you greedily accepted it. Maybe inviting your parents and your brother and Tiffany at the same time wasn’t such a good idea after all.
‘Where’s Sirius?’ James asked you.
Sirius hadn’t joined you and your family in the dressing room and you feared you had messed up by not answering to his confession. You wanted to look for him, but you knew all hell would break loose if you left your family alone.
‘I don’t know,’ you said, taking a sip from the bottle. ‘I was talking with him, but we were interrupted by these idiots.’ You gesture at your father who is doing a little weird dance in the middle of the room.
It wasn’t unusual for you to see this side of your parents, but you had hoped they would not show it in front of people whom they had never met. You knew they were crazy, but no one else needed to know.
‘Oh, well,’ James said nonchalant. ‘I am sure he’ll come back soon.’
- - - - - -
But Sirius didn’t. The next time you saw him was long after your family had been brought to their places and right before he was about to go on stage. In the dark you could see his silhouette contrasting with the lights from the stage. He was fumbling the microphone in his hands, as you had learned he only did when he was nervous.
You walked over to him and placed your hand on his shoulder. ‘Hey,’ you said softly. ‘Are you okay?’
‘I’m fine,’ he snapped back and you removed your hand from his body.
‘Sorry,’ you mumbled. ‘I know we never got to finish our conversation, but I just-’
‘Twenty seconds!’ the stage manager yelled, interrupting you.
‘I’ll see you there, right?’ Sirius asked, his voice cold and distant. ‘Just… do what you always do.’
Sirius stepped away from you to the stairs and you watched his figure with tears in your eyes as he climbed the stage with the rest of the band. James looked back at you and pointed at Sirius before ticking the side of his head. You chuckled through the tears and blew James a kiss before he disappeared into the bright lights.
Watching the men perform was still so inspiring to you. The passion that they had was something that you hoped to achieve some day yourself. They didn’t just make music, they made magic. You would never get tired of watching it.
‘Now I think it is time we bring out the person who is an immense support to us and who you all love. And if you don’t, well, then just cover your ears or something… Here’s y/n!’ James shouted and the audience screamed as you walked on stage.
You stood next to Sirius and for the first time since the tour started you felt like you were back at the first show again. All the insecurities came back to you in a wave and you felt a little dizzy. You grabbed Sirius’ arm for balance and he looked quickly at you, before averting his eyes again.
You knew that his was the only way to reach him. Through music, through his lyrics. If he didn’t want to talk with you, then fine. But you knew that he would listen to you if you sang to him.
So you sang the song with all the passion and love that you had in your body.
‘Won’t you please just look at me?
And listen to my heart
As I tell you all the stories
To never be apart
If this is what you’re feeling
Then tell me one more time
Will you take my heart along
And leave this all behind?’
Sirius looked at you, like he had done all those nights before, but something in his face was different. You smiled at him and put out your hand for him to take. He looked from your hand to your face and then the biggest smile you had seen all tour appeared on his face as he took your hand in his and squeezed it a little.
‘Don’t rush
I will wait for you
Take time
Leave your love behind’
A tear slid down your cheek as you looked at the big crowd in front of you that was singing along every word that left your mouth. The flashlights of phones waved through the air as in one movement.
‘Love, don’t break my heart again
Just push it to the side
I will still be waiting here
So you just take your time’
Sirius wrapped his arm around your waist and pulled you closer to him. You both stopped singing for a minute and listened to the audience as they sang from the top of their longs. Even the band stopped playing and all that could be heard were the thousands of voices from the fans.
Pressing a kiss to the side of your head, Sirius whispered: ‘I love you, darling.’
You looked at him and smiled, while he wiped away the tears on your cheek. ‘I love you too.’
‘So know that I will love you still
Even if you take so long
Leave this place but come back please
For you are everything to me’
The last melodies of the song started and you intertwined your fingers with Sirius’ as you poured all your feelings into the last words.
‘So just take your time
Cause I’ll wait for you’
----------
Taglists
Sirius Black @treestarrrrrrrr @bumbelbeeesblog @with1love1anu @transparentttttttttt @sirius-satellite @cheoco @malikinglove @alwaysinmydaydreams @eateraa @bi-andready-tocry @fangirlofbooksandpasta @littlemissgothgirl @always394patronus @heavenly-ascended-melodies @mrs-moony @coldlilheart @fific7 @april-showers-and-flowers @susceptible-but-siriusexual
Marauders @secretsthathauntus​ @ronniethelost​ @sognatrice-as-a-hobby​ @hxrgreeves​ @wecouldbreakthedistance​ @valentina-007​
General HP @kitkatkl​ @girllety​ @yuptha-tsme​ @sleep-i-ness​ @iamak20​ @thefuturelawyer​ @weasleydream​ @missmulti​ @deafgirltingz​ @moonstarrnghtsky​ @bloodblossom73​ @mytreec​ @lilulo-12fanfiction​ @emmaloo21​ @kashishwrites​ @ananad1​ @figlia--della--luna​ @kylosleftbuttcheek​ @mrs-malfoy-always​ @obsessedwithrandomthings​ @thefandomplace​ @magicwithaknife​
let me know if you want to be added/removed/replaced
MASTERLIST
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barbasbodaciousbeard · 4 years ago
Text
Accidental Feminist Icon
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Between my own headcanon Barba becomes a very niche viral celebrity for being a mix of feminist icon giving one liners on the news and handsome/well dressed and the DJ Khaled post, this happened. 
“Counsellor, are you listening?” Olivia asked as Rafael Barba looked at his phone again. It had been months now since he started trying Manhattan SVU’s cases, and she hadn’t seen him this distracted before. 
“I just- why do I have rapid fire Twitter notifications? Over one hundred and fifty?”
“You have Twitter?” He rolled his eyes, not proud of the admission. But he liked to follow politics and music and satire. His colleagues would have discourse on legal proceedings and theory. But when he opened his notifications, the sea of professional headshots making up the icons in his notifications window were replaced by cartoon avatars and selfies. Handles like @Bradley_GreedADA were replaced with @feministkilljxy. 
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What was happening?
Why were there GIFs of him now?
“Rafael?” He was snapped back to attention by Olivia’s hand passing over his phone screen, and he shook his head, holding the screen out to her. “What am I looking at?”
“Why have a couple hundred- are these all teenagers?”
“Are they following you? Or tagging you?”
“Both?” He scrolled through the mentions.
“Both.” A questioning look.
“Have I gone viral?” he asked herr, eyes wide and his tone disgusted. Twitter was where he posted law books, nice dinners out, homemade dinners in, and the nicer scotch he drank. Sometimes even pictures of himself; some of his friends enjoyed fashion as well, and their twitters all had a heavy thread of their suspenders and ties. Suddenly, he was having photos he’d posted to flaunt his ability to mix patterns retweeted in appreciation of something more than the color scheme.
“I think you have. What have you said now?”
“The girl whose tweet I keep getting tagged in mentioned Jocelyn Paley and the Adam Caine case.”
“That was seven months ago.”
“I’m very aware. I have to get to the office. I’ll get you that warrant.”
He continued to scroll as he walked, alarmed by the number of followers he was gaining and going to open a direct message from a friend to see a wall of messages from names he didn’t know. Once he was able to find Bradley’s message, he saw it was series of tweets with videos and GIFs of him on the courthouse steps. They were all from the same case, he assumed the Adam Caine case. He clicked the video of he and Rita Calhoun.
All I can say, today's Grand Jury indictment is the first step towards achieving justice for Jocelyn Paley. 
The DA's office is desperately trying to distract from their recent scandal with a high-profile case. 
Don't give me that--whether you're a john in the South Bronx or a $3-million-a-year talk show host, no means no. 
 He could remember the exchange now, and it had apparently been retweeted thousands of times. Cameras always made him determined to distract, determined to drive home a point. And now, he was seeing some group of teenagers had clung on to his words, and he wasn’t sure how he felt about becoming recognized enough by that demographic to warrant this rapidly increasing follower count. 
“Carmen, can I ask you something?”
“Of course, Mr. Barba. Need coffee?”
“No,” he said plainly, shaking his head and showing her his feed. “Is this normal?”
“They found you?”
“Excuse me?”
“Haven’t you seen the posts?”
“I don’t branch out on Twitter often.”
“I see it mostly, like, on Instagram with captions and people post clips of you on vine.”
“What’s vine?”
“A six second video app. Teenagers and young women post you. Vine is normally comedy. But people are obsessed with you. Niche, but sizable number. I think it’s mostly New York girls who see you on the news. But that means the vines went viral a couple months ago.”
“So now they’re all following me on Twitter?”
“You’re viral for being attractive, dressing well, and prosecuting rapists. Embrace it.”
“I can’t post my clothes anymore.”
“Just continue like usual. Don’t respond to DMs.”
He spent a few weeks terrified of this new following, but after three days, things calmed down. The number of followers he gained was weird and confusing to him, and he decided to listen to Carmen ultimately, keeping the profile the same and pretending nothing had happened. She did stop him one day, showing him that there had been people making fake accounts, yet another thing that was insane to him. She primarily told him because these accounts were attempting to take advantage of the fact young girls were the ones following him. He awkwardly slid the handles to Olivia, and Carmen filled out an application for Twitter verification that left him mortified. Even worse, it was approved. 
He was swept away in a case soon enough. Lindsay was assaulted by a whole fraternity at Hudson. They uncovered a previous victim in a hospital, a fraternity known for being a rape factory, and a dean helping create a culture that buried these attacks. It was becoming higher profile than he expected, and it wasn’t easy to try. He’d had to shut off his notifications on his phone during these cases. When Lindsay committed suicide, he accompanied Rollins when she went to arrest the dean. What he didn’t expect was for two of the women they saw to approach him, asking if they were here about Lindsay and thanking them when he said he couldn’t mention it. Then they asked for a selfie. Rafael was mortified but obliged. 
“We recognize you from Twitter.”
Well, now he knew he needn’t accompany the squad out anymore.
When he got tweets from the kind of scum that supported the fraternity, it took a concerted effort not to respond. That could jeopardized the case. He’d already had to tell the two girls they couldn’t post about him being there. He tweeted a disclaimer for if people saw him out, feeling like an asshole. Twitter was now becoming a liability, but he could balance it and refused to give up the feed. Slowly, the GIFs and stills of him on the news were collected, and he only got embarrassed again when mami’s students had discovered him and realized he was the guy in their principal’s pictures. Now Mami had a Twitter, and she followed people who praised him joyfully, though he’d managed to convince her not to interact in private messages or respond to people insulting him. 
The Jenna Miller case caused another leap in his follower count, and he had developed a little sense of pride instead of embarrassment when his followers jumped from people who mattered in New York to people who mattered elsewhere. A congresswoman from Ohio. Artists. Activists. He’d texted Olivia when Lady Gaga followed him. Plus that woman from True Blood. God, she was beautiful. Plus the hot boybander that had probably made him realize he was bisexual. It was weird, and he was unwilling to publicly acknowledge any of it. Unless they were on twitter, he certainly didn’t tell anyone he knew other than Olivia. Soon enough, someone had made a t-shirt on Etsy of the moment he’d turned on his heel. The media had called after Jenna, the olympian, and he’d told them no questions. Then the had the gall to bring up her sex work. He’d stopped on the steps, turning on his heel and announcing “Except for that one. Paid or not paid, no means no. Consent can be revoked at any time.” And now, Etsy users were profiting on it. This group was niche, but it ran deep. Luckily, he noticed the shop only had a few dozen sales.
Everything was fine until Rafael Barba lost his ability to maintain his composure. Up until now, he’d monitored his name, mentions, and a few hashtags people used with him. It was usually just the GIFs and stills and soundbites. He participated in some banter after the first couple of years, boundaries firm enough he felt he could. But he still didn’t bicker. Carmen said he got a following for being a good guy, and he thought it was gross openly condemning rape seemed to be all it took to be a good guy. But then through his lurking, Rafael Barba saw a tweet about DJ Khaled. He’d had to google who the hell that was, unsure who all of Twitter was piling onto, but he found the tweet objectionable enough to respond.
“Mr. Barba,” Carmen said, eyes sparkling with amusement as she came in to see her boss still scrolling through his phone. “You really decided this is the time to get involved on Twitter? You only ever respond to what people say to your stuff or your friends.”
He should’ve known she’d be on top of it. He’d given her access when notifications went through the roof the second time, and Carmen helped filter through DMs he didn’t want to see. But now, that meant her phone was vibrating like his in response to his first tweet in response to a stranger or someone who wasn’t in a thread under his own post.
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“What? I’m supposed to endorse consent but not enjoyment?”
“You’re going to end up in a Buzzfeed article, sir.”
“If this is my legacy, so be it.”
“Your legacy? Taking it seriously now?”
“This is serious.”
Carmen’s phone buzzed in her hand, and she knew he’d sent another tweet. Her own account got notifications so she could monitor him. She sighed heavily, unlocking the phone and looking at it. 
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“Mr. Barba, does your mom know you’re bi?”
“No, why?”
“She follows you, idiot.”
“Shit. Well, I suppose it’s time.”
“If you tweet Smash Mouth, I’m quitting. These kids are already thirst tweeting you. They must have tweet notifications on for you.”
“Who’s Smash Mouth?”
“How the hell are you culturally relevant?”
“According to Liv, I’m a feminist icon.”
“Don’t get arrogant sir. I help run this twitter.”
“I’ll change the password. I do all the posting.”
“I won’t tell you if Evan Rachel Wood slides in your DMs.”
“Why would I care?”
“I know why you watched True Blood.”
“Touche.” He paused. “Do you think she will?”
“Give me the phone. I’ll bring it when Liv calls.”
“Why would she call?”
“She made a Twitter, sir. Followed you last week.”
“Shit,” he said, eyes wide. “I posted pictures of my food. She saw me acting like a Twitter guy.”
“You are a Twitter guy.”
He rolled his eyes, ending with a retweet of his new favorite addition to the conversation. 
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@mia-liz @chasingeverybreakingwave @thegirlwiththemaleficient-tattoo​ @teachingpanda​
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starrybethany · 4 years ago
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I’m Sure - Adam Boqvist Imagine Part 5
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Word count: 4.0K
Part 1
Part 2
Part 3
Part 4
Adam: You followed me
I stare at the three words, blinking with tired eyes. All I want to do is sleep, especially after the day I’ve had with Holden, but the baby decided kicking me was more important. So here I am at four o’clock in the morning checking my social media when I should be getting another three hours of sleep.
I rub my eyes, unsure of how to even respond to the message.
It’s just a statement. I feel flabbergasted by it- really, we haven’t talked in years- well, technically months, but the last time we saw each other we just fucked, and our child went to see him without my knowledge or consent. How the fuck am I supposed to respond to those three words?
Y/N: I think we need to talk.
I sigh, setting my phone down. Might as well get straight to the point. The sooner I tell him about the second baby and ask why he would see Holden without at least running it past me the better. I roll over, pulling the blanket tighter around me. Hopefully I can sleep at least a little bit longer. I’m going to need it to deal with the moody adolescent I’ll be seeing in the morning.
~
“I made some toast and bacon. Just let me just finish cutting up these strawberries and then breakfast will be ready,” I inform Holden as he hops down the stairs.
He picks up the filled plate waiting for him on the table, throwing the food into the trashcan and setting the plate on the counter, giving me an expectant look.
I stare blankly back at him. I know he’s waiting for a reaction. He wants me to blow up so then he feels okay yelling at me instead of starting the confrontation himself. Instead, I just say, “That’s wasteful.”
He rolls his eyes, grabbing his backpack from its usual spot by the door and making his way outside, letting it slam shut behind him. I release the breath that I’ve been holding in, popping a strawberry into my mouth.
I open my Instagram app to catch up on the posts that I’ve missed, freezing when I see that I’ve received a DM. I forgot that I sent a message to Adam last night. Well, technically this morning. After I sent the message, I passed out hard, and I thought the whole thing was a fever dream.
Adam: What about?
Adam: Here’s my number
My fingers tap the screen quietly as I add his phone number into my contacts, saving it and staring at it blankly.
Well. No time like the present.
Before I can even realize what I’m doing, before I can even think things through and decide what to say or whether this is a good idea or not, or hell, even what time it is in Chicago right now, I click on the phone icon.
I curse to myself, raising the phone to my ear. Absentmindedly, my hand raises to my mouth so I can chew on my fingernail. Nail-biting is a nervous habit that I gave up years ago, but I guess old habits die hard.
“Hello?” His groggy voice comes through the phone.
I can’t breathe.
The oxygen gets stuck in my lungs. All I can think about are his hands on my body, sliding down to grip my hips. The twinkle in his eyes as I would pull my shirt over my head.
And not to mention the last time I saw him. His hair is longer than he used to keep it, but it suits him. It looks good on him. And he bulked up since the last time I saw him, too- his abs definitely looked and felt like it, anyways.
“Hello?” He repeats, sounding more awake and borderline annoyed now.
“Adam,” I respond softly, suddenly feeling shy. Come on, where did my confidence go? I’ll need it to get through this conversation.
“Y/N,” he says, all sounds of annoyance out of his voice. “You actually called, I didn’t think that you would-“”Sorry for waking you up,” I blurt out, glancing at the clock and seeing that it’s seven in the morning here. Chicago is an hour behind Philadelphia- it’s what kept me from calling the boys on the team late at night for several years.
“Oh, no, no, don’t you ever worry about that,” he reassures me. It’s quiet. I know he’s waiting for me to speak, to let him know what I want to talk to him about, but I just can’t get the words out. I feel them stuck in my throat, clawing to escape. “So, how’s Holden?”
And there it is.
That question is what spurs me to speak, to dig into the man who hid a huge secret like that from me. But I guess I’m doing the same thing to him now.
“I don’t know, how is he, Adam?” I spit out.
He sighs. He sighs. I want to punch his perfect fucking face.
“If I had realized that you had such a problem with it-“”Such a problem with it?” I repeat, not believing my own ears. Suddenly I’m reminded of why I decided not to tell Adam about this baby and why he wasn’t ready to be in Holden’s life for thirteen years. Hell, it sounds like he’s still not ready.
“My son lied to me about his intentions of going to Chicago, traveled halfway across the country by himself, and saw someone who he’s never met before. Yes, I have a fucking problem with it,” I growl.
“Our son.”
“What?”
“He’s our son. You said my son.”
All I want to do right now is to reach through this tiny screen and hit him upside the head. Really, after I lay out all of my concerns, this is all he has to say to me?
“Whatever. When are you coming to Philadelphia next?” I question. I don’t want to air all of grievances and talk about the new baby over the phone. I’ve had enough communication classes to know that you need to see someone’s nonverbal behaviors instead just hearing what they have to say.
“Why? You want to see me?” Suggestion laces his tone.
No, asshole, you already got me pregnant again.
“Yes. We need to talk about Holden… and some other things,” my voice trails off at the end, not sure how to warn him about such big news.
“Some other things, eh? Well, I’ll be looking forward to that,” he responds, clearly thinking that it’s something regarding us and our relationship, well, our dislike or lust for one another or something, instead of picking up what I’m trying to hint at.
“Cool. So, can you take a trip to Philly sometime soon or are you going to wait until hockey season?” I inquire.
“I can take a trip there, just for you. And Holden, of course.”
I can’t help but let a small smile slip onto my face. That sentence shows me that he’d be a good dad if he just put in the effort. It infuriates me that he’s kept that from Holden for years just because he hasn’t felt like working towards a relationship with his son.
“Good. Let me know when you’re in town so we can meet up.”
“What? You’re not going to invite me to stay with you?”
“Goodbye, Adam.” I hang up before he can respond. All I can imagine the rest of the day is his reaction after that phone call. He would have that small, knowing smile on his face, pulling his phone out of his pocket every five minutes to check and see if he got a new text from me or to send the fifth one in a row to me- one that I still would not respond to.
And my heart skips a beat at the thought of that.
~
It’s been a week since the phone call and since Adam sent me a screenshot of his booked ticket to Philadelphia two weeks from then. For some reason, maybe it’s the stupid, hopeless romantic part in me, I had hoped that he would book his plane ticket and hotel room for that night or even the next day. But he told me he had some ‘lose ends’ to tie up in Chicago before leaving.
And it’s also been a week since Holden has said a word to me. I’ve tried talking to him. I’ve asked him about his day, his friends, cooked him his favorite meals all week, I even offered to take him to Target to get a new video game.
None of that has worked. And it hurts. It hurts knowing that after everything I’ve done for him and everything I’ve sacrificed for him, and how Adam has done none of that, he looks at Adam like a God and me like the scum on the bottom of his shoe.
I know it’s what I’m supposed to do as a mother, care for my son and make sure he’s happy, but it’s just- it’s just- ugh.
I start to feel my blood boil as my mom’s voice echoes in the back of my head. Life’s not fair.
It’s then that I realize that I’ve given him enough space and time to figure out his feelings and how he wants to proceed. I don’t want to give him too much space that he begins to resent me and feel like I don’t care about him.
I know that feeling all too well.
I knock on his bedroom door softly, waiting for him to open it before I just walk in. It creeks open slightly, and just as I expected, eyes matching my mom’s peek out to glare at me.
“Can I talk to you, Holden?”
He doesn’t respond, just stares at me.
“Please, you don’t even have to talk, just listen,” I beg.
Fortunately, he opens the door the rest of the way, watching as I walk into his room and sit gently on the edge of the bed. He sits down on his worn computer chair, laptop open to some video game I don’t recognize on his desk.
“I want to start by apologizing for yelling at you last week,” I begin, taking a deep breath. Apologizing isn’t something that comes easy to me- I grew up in a family where the words ‘I’m sorry’ were unheard of. My parents were always right, and I was always wrong.
“I realize it probably wasn’t easy for you to go to Chicago by yourself to meet your dad. Holden, I just want you to realize that I would do anything to protect you, and I love you with my whole heart so realizing that you were in such an emotionally taxing situation without talking to me about it first-“I pause to sniffle, starting to feel tears well up in my eyes. “I felt helpless. And I couldn’t stop wondering why you didn’t feel like you could share that with me and then I realized that it’s because I don’t share stuff with you either.”
He watches as I lift my sleeve, wiping the tears from under my eyes. His face is still blank, but his eyes look like they’ve softened. He’s understanding my words so far.
“So, yes, this baby is also Adam’s baby. And he did ask about you when I saw him back in February, but I let my pride get the best of me and I told him that he didn’t deserve to see you. I’m sorry for robbing you of meeting your father earlier,” I genuinely apologize, maintaining eye contact with my son.
He shifts in his seat, his hard exterior softening with every word. “Well, I’m sorry for calling you a shitty mother. And saying all of that other stuff. And, if it makes you feel better, I did go to the computer programming camp. I just saw Adam when we had a night off.”
“Can I ask you a question?”
He nods.
“What did he tell you? About not being involved in your life?” I ask carefully, curious as to what Adam told Holden to turn him against me like that.
“He just told me that he was working through some stuff,” he shrugs, acting like he doesn’t care but I know my son well enough to tell that he does. “And he wasn’t ready until recently to meet me.”
I bite my tongue to keep it from releasing an insult towards Adam. “And how does that make you feel?”
“Honestly?” I nod, probing him to go on. “Pretty awful. I don’t think I want a relationship with him, mom.”
A mix of emotions run through my body at his word. I feel anxious, because now I have to tell him that Adam’s coming next week and will want to see him, sadness, because my son now recognizes how his father did not want be involved in his life, and anger toward Adam for making him feel like this in the first place.
“Well,” I cough awkwardly. “He’s coming to Philadelphia next week. I’m going to meet him to tell him about the baby. If you don’t want to see him, you don’t have to. It’s all up to you, bud.”
I stand up slowly, rubbing my belly as the baby begins to kick. He always seems to do that whenever I move even just a little bit- he’s an active little guy.
“Oh,” I turn back around just as I’m about to close the door. “How did you even find out who your father is?”
“Please mom, I’m not stupid,” he grins slyly at me, sliding his headphones onto his neck. “You lived in Chicago when you got pregnant with me and worked for the Blackhawks. I figured, since you said you worked a lot, the only guys you really had a chance to be with were on the team. And when I asked you about my dad for that project for school you said he was Swedish, so I just went to the Blackhawks roster in 2020 and found the Swedish players, messaging them some really uncomfortable and intrusive messages on Instagram.”
I chuckle at that, shaking my head. It will never not blow my mind how clever and smart he is. As I close the door to his bedroom, I hear him say, “On the plus side, Alex Nylander is a really nice guy.”
~
The day is finally here. Being eighteen weeks pregnant makes it really hard to hide my baby bump, but I somehow manage to find a baggy sweatshirt that I’ve stolen from one of my ex-boyfriends to cover it up. I don’t want to walk into the restaurant we’re meeting at and have him immediately know.
Somehow my jeans still fit on my legs, but I have a feeling by the end of this lunch they’ll be unbuttoned. It’s just the way it goes sometimes.
I get to the restaurant before Adam, just like how I planned it. I wanted time to scope out my exits in case I need to bail halfway through this meal- knowing Adam, it’s a possibility. I haven’t thought through what I was going to say too much.
I know I need to talk to him about why he would keep Holden going to Chicago to see him a secret from me, and we need to talk about the baby.
But mostly I just want to hear him grovel. The secret, sadistic part of me wants to hear him beg for forgiveness for making me raise my child by myself for the past thirteen years. I want to hear him admit that he fucked up- I’ve never heard Adam Boqvist admit that he fucked up before.
He shows up two minutes late.
I know because my phone is sitting face up on the table and I click on it every five seconds to see what time it is. I tell myself that if it gets ten minutes past noon and he’s still not here, I’m going home and giving up on dealing with Adam ever again.
But then he’s standing in front of me, familiar toothy grin on his face, black beanie on his shaggy hair, and a bouquet of red roses in his hand.
“You’re late,” I state sternly, not letting any sign of emotion onto my face. I need to let him know I mean business. I need to let him know that I’m never getting into bed with him ever again.
“Yeah, sorry, there was a line at the grocery store,” his grin begins to slip, but as he holds the bouquet out towards me, it takes over his face once again. “I got you these.”
“Thanks.”
I don’t make any movement towards them. His smile falls once again and I begin to feel guilty- he did buy these flowers for me, but he also impregnated me and left me twice.
He slides into the chair across the table from me, setting the flowers on the table and coughing awkwardly. “So, have you ordered yet?”
“Just water,” I respond shortly.
“Do you want to split a bottle of wine?”
“I’m not really a day drinker,” I eye him over the top of my menu, then go back to skimming through the items. It’s a charade, though. I already know what I want.
“Are you two ready to order?” The peppy waitress appears at our side, notepad open in her hand.
“I’ll have the chicken alfredo,” I announce, folding my menu.
“I’ll take that too. And a bottle of your sweetest wine, please,” the blonde orders, passing his menu to the waitress. When she leaves, he turns back to me. “I know you like the sweet stuff.”
I take a deep breath, deciding to cut to the chase. I’d rather get through this meal as soon as possible. The sooner we get done talking about this stuff, the sooner I can get out of here.
“Adam, I’m pregnant.”
He chokes on the sip of water he’s just taken from his glass, water dripping down his chin and landing on the table in front of him. I can’t help but watch with a content smile as he coughs, trying to catch his breath.
“Excuse me?” He utters through coughs, wiping his chin with a napkin.
“I’m pregnant,” I repeat. “I’m due in November.”
“Well, uh, congratulations,” he says unsurely.
I roll my eyes, muttering, “You clearly haven’t gotten smarter since last time.”
He seems to catch on to the hidden meaning behind my comment, his eyes widening. “Oh is it- since we-“”It’s your baby,” I conclude bluntly.
A smirk begins to spread across his face. I can’t believe it. He’s smirking just after I told him that he got me pregnant accidentally for the second time.
“Why do you have that look?” I snap.
“My little swimmers work pretty well, don’t they?” He inquires confidently, sipping from his water and succeeding this time.
I lean across the table, turning it on him. “I don’t know, do they? Are there any half-siblings that I need to worry about?”
The smirk is replaced by a look of genuineness now. It startles me, the sudden change of emotions. “No, it’s you, Y/N. It’s always been you.”
I lean back in my seat, the sudden seriousness too much for me to bear. I fiddle with the napkin sitting next to my glass, avoiding eye contact with him. “Yeah, so it’s a boy.”
“Another boy,” he echoes my very thoughts the moment I found out the sex.
I grin at the thought of my second child. When he’s been kicking me at night and keeping me awake, I think about what he’s going to be like. Is he going to cry a lot or is he going to be a quiet baby like Holden was? Will I have to keep an eye on him every minute or will I be able to get some breaks?
And what about when he’s older. Will he like hockey like his dad? Would he like the Flyers because we live in Philadelphia, or would he like the Blackhawks because his dad plays for them?
“Speaking of boys, how is Holden doing? He hasn’t been responding to my texts lately.” Adam means for the question to sound casual, but I can hear the undertone of worry in his voice. Maybe he isn’t as much of a shitty father as I think he is.
“He doesn’t want to talk to you,” I confess.
He doesn’t bother to hide the hurt on his face. I don’t expect him to. I know how it feels to feel unwanted and unloved by your child- I felt it when Holden told me that I’m a shitty mother. And although Adam deserves the consequences to his actions, I can’t help but feel a small amount of pity for him.
“I deserve that,” he sighs.
“You do,” I agree, knowing that I’m shoving the knife deeper into his heart. “But just give him time to decide what he wants to do. It’s all so fresh to him.”
He gives me a small, vulnerable smile.
“Why didn’t you tell me that he was going to see you while he was in Chicago, Adam?” I ask him the question I’ve been dying to ask ever since I found out about the situation.
He shrugs, not saying a word.
“Yes, you do know,” I persist. “So just fucking tell me. Enough of the bullshit, we’re in our thirties now. It’s time to focus on the children, not your fucking pride.”
He looks baffled by my sudden outburst, but it inspires him to answer. “I was afraid that if you found out, you would stop him. Then I’d never get to meet my son.”
“I would have stopped him,” I agreed, causing him to open his mouth to begin arguing with me. I start to speak again before he can begin. “And reschedule the trip to a time that works better with my work schedule so that I could go with him. Yes, you’re his father, but you’ve never been in his life. You’re essentially a stranger to him.”
He narrows his eyes at me like my words are a challenge. “Not anymore.”
I narrow my eyes at him now. “Really? What’s his middle name? When is his birthday? What’s his favorite color?”
He doesn’t respond and I scoff, taking a sip of my water again. “That’s what I thought.”
We’re quiet as the waitress returns with our meals. I cut my noodles, taking a bite of my food.
“I don’t want it to be that way with this baby,” he says, quickly adding, “And Holden anymore. I want to be there for this baby from the start. Or from now, I guess. And I want to be there for Holden, if he ever wants me.”
Mixed feelings begin to flush through my body. This is what I wanted for my kids from the beginning, an active father figure. And Adam’s offering it now, but why am I still feeling so hesitant?
After years of expecting him to step up as a parent and him never doing it, I have reasonable doubts when it comes to Adam’s parenting ability.
“Well, you know it’s up to Holden. You can’t force him to like you,” I begin slowly, trying to phrase my words in the best way possible. “But with this second baby… we can try it. I have a doctor’s appointment in two days. I’ll text you the address and time.”
“But my flight leaves tomorrow,” he whines. “Can’t you just reschedule for today?”
“You have so much to learn, Adam,” I shake my head. “I just hope you realize that being a parent means that you’re selfless more than selfish. Tell you what, go back to Chicago if you want to. But if you go back to Chicago, the only time you’ll communicate with the boys is when they want to talk to you.”
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vanillann · 4 years ago
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5 star conversation (reggie peters x reader)
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I SAW THIS REQUEST AND SCREAMED I WAS SO EXCITED!!
word count: 4.9k (i can’t believe i wrote that much omg)
5 star conversation masterlist
place one: a 1 star motel
“I can’t believe this!”
Julie and I gave each other warnings look as he leaned against each other. That was Flynn’s “Something is going wrong and it’s the other person's fault” yell, and with how stressful the bus ride was I could tell this was worse.
“What’s wrong?” Reggie leaned over in his chair, his hood covering his face as we hid from camera flashes in the corner of the fancy hotel.
Julie shrugged, looking back to her phone and the Instagram edits of the band she had been tagged in.
“Guys, guys,” Alex did a awkward jog as he came back from the bathroom, the iconic pink hoodie pulled over his head and the front of his baseball hat sticking out.
“What?”
“I don’t think we have rooms,” Alex fell back beside Luke, his anxiety radiating from one person to another.
“Huh?”
We’ve had the tour planned out for months, each state planned and perfectly laid out for the perfect amount of work and play. There wasn’t a chance that we didn’t have the room for tonight, impossible.
“Flynn is too smart for that,” I leaned back, ignoring the way Reggie still leaned forward while his elbows on his knees watching me. It was weird, I knew it was Reggie but the way he sat and the fact I couldn’t see his face made it feel like a different person.
“(Y/N) right, Flynn way to put together for that,” Julie brushed off, hitting my shoulder to show me the edit she had found. It was of Reggie and I from a few shows ago, Flynn had been taking videos to help keep the fan active on us and she caught a video of Reggie and I fake rocking out on the empty stage.
It moved from that to a picture of Reggie and me in the costume store for the Halloween show, little fairy-like hearts floating around us. I smiled at the thought, grabbing Julie’s phone and sending the edit to me.
“Well, we don’t have rooms,” Flynn walked back, not giving any warning as she collapsed on top of Julie and I.
“I told you!”
Alex stood up, pointing his finger between Julie and I, a little smirk forming before he realized the weight of the words.
“What happened?”
“They didn’t tell me that rooms held for over 2 months have to be reinstated two week before or they cancel it,” Flynn didn’t move, laying over Julie and I with a broken spirit.
“I was looking forward to sleeping in a room, those bed’s on the bus suck,” Luke crossed his arms and pouted, looking like a kicked puppy.
“I don’t mind them,” Reggie smiled, bouncing in his seat slightly.
“It’s because you’d never fallen off the top,” Alex bit back, still mad about the sharp turns that have sent him flying the last few nights.
Flynn finally moved off Julie and I, saying nothing as she typed away on her phone. She walked away without another word, looking us back in the corner with hoods up.
I played with the sleeves of my own hoodie that had the new Julie and the Pathoms merch sketch.
“Oh look at this one!”
Julie showed me her phone again, this time a thirst trap edit. Her excitement bought the boys attention to us, all moving to look over my shoulder at the edit.
It started with a few of Julie with her amazing stage gear and a few photos from her instagram, neon letters over her head read “The Singer''. Then jumped to the few videos and pictures of Flynn that Julie and I would post behind her back, this time the neon letters read “The Manager''. Next was my face, bright smiles and a few of me backstage with an old Sunset Curve tee and sweat rolling down my back, the words said “The Designer ''.
I read the caption, smiling at “They carry the band” and laughing as the guys talked about the story behind each photo.
“I took the one of you in my old shirt,” Reggie smiled, staying beside me with his arm around the back of my seat. I did my best to ignore the butterflies, which became easy when Flynn came back with a smile.
“I found a motel across the street that will take us,” she spoke with pride, rightfully so as she saved us from another night on that bus.
“Oh I love you,” Alex jumped up, his arms wrapping around Flynn in a heartbeat. Julie smiled, standing up and putting the phone in the pocket of her hoodie.
“Come on, up,” Reggie jumped up, holding a hand up from me as I had started to slip down in my seat. I smiled, taking his cold hands and standing completely up with a smile.
“Thank you Reginald,” I winked, following the others as we made our way to the front of the hotel. I could already hear the crowd waiting for us, their cameras probably at the ready to take some pictures of the uprising band.
“Hoods up soldiers,” Luke announced, keeping Julie close as they were already openly in a relationship so nothing too bad could be made out of them. Alex stood in front of me, Flynn close behind as Reggie was an inch behind me.
I said nothing when I felt a small hand on my back, too caught up in the loud voices and the calling of our names.
“(Y/N)! Is it true you are jealous of the band!”
“(Y/N), Did you sleep with lead singer Luke even with him dating Julie?”
“Are the rumors of Reggie and you true?”
I was thankful we had made it cross the sidewalk when a large bus cut them all off, giving up enough time to make it to the motel without a problem. I was thankful once we made it inside but not for long as I took the place in.
The plants in the corner were dead, the desk was dusty and the couches looked to be from the 1800′s, not the good kind.
“How many stars does this place have?”
“Uhm, 4?” Flynn voiced jumped up, saying nothing to us as she walked up and dinged the bell on the front desk. I rolled my eyes, pulling out my phone and opening it to Google.
“What are you goggling?”
“Google, and this motel,” I corrected Reggie, doing a quick search of my location and found the name of the rusty place. When I saw the rating I almost screamed.
“This place just barely has one star!”
“What,” Luke ran from the random statue he was messing with to my side, tugging the phone so he could read the reviews.
“Apparently they had a rat in a bed once,” I spoke, reading over the words in horror.
“Nope, I’ll stay on the bus,” Alex let his hands fall to his side, walking back to the door before he noticed that the camera flashes had almost doubled and no way he could make it out without a panic attack.
“Evening.”
When I heard the vile voice I jumped into Reggie's side without thinking, looking up at the older man who was looking Flynn up and down like meat.
“I need six room,” Flynn didn’t waste time, holding the credit card in between her fingers as she did her best not to be a coward.
“He looks like the witch from Hansel and Gretel,” I whispered into Reggie’s ear, ignoring the way his arm seemed to drift to my waist.
“I don’t know how that is but I agree.”
“We only have only three rooms, little lady,” the man spoke, reaching for the credit card before Flynn moved it out of reach.
“You told me on the found you had six,” Flynn bit back, I admired her confidence in this moment as everyone was slowly losing there the longer we stood in this lobby.
“The paparazzi will have fun with this,” Julie reached my side, looking over her shoulder and the few shots they could get through the windows of the dusty place.
“Got that right.”
“Fine, will bunk up,” Flynn gave up with the man, it wasn’t any use and we were all tired of setting up the stage and soundcheck today. I had spent hours hunched over the computer trying to get the mercy drop reaching tomorrow morning, my back sore and my head hurting.
The man passed Flynn the keys, after she watched him closely to make sure he didn’t charge us extra. She walked over to us, obviously annoyed but calming down the closer she got to us, she knew how to manage her anger until it was only Julie and I around.
“Julie and I will take one room, Alex and (Y/N) will take another-'' I smiled as Alex was my go-to room partner.
“-And Luke and Reggie got the last,” Flynn started handing out keys when Luke started to pout.
“Last time I slept in the same room as Reggie he talked the entire night,” Luke pointed at Reggie, causing the boy beside me to frown.
“You sleep talk? I’ve never heard it,” I shrugged and looked at Luke who was confident that “Reggie sleep talks”.
“Why can’t I take Alex and (Y/N) take Reggie?”
This felt so out of character for Luke, he never missed an opportunity to hang out with Reggie, they always bunked together. It was weird how everyone agreed, which felt even more out of character.
“Okay it’s settled,” I wanted to say something, as a night in a room alone with Reggie would be horrible for my crush, but I didn’t want Reggie to think nobody wanted to bunk with him.
Reggie shrugged, taking our key from Flynn and grabbing my go-bag I’d set on the ground of the dirty motel.
“I’ll get our bags, I know you’ll sit with Fylnn and Julie before you come up,” he didn’t sound mad or upset, he was smiling widely as he skipped to the elevator before stopping halfway through and going to the stairs instead.
“What a gentleman,” Luke winked at me, smirking between the group as if he had done something.
That’s when it hit me, he had done something.
“Oh, you liar,” I pointed my finger at Luke’s chest, my pout similar to his earlier as I looked up to someone I called a close friend, basically family.
“I did nothing of the sort, he did talk all night last time we bunked together but it was because we decided we wanted to pull an all-nighter,” Luke shrugged, looking at the other three in the loony, all smiling at me.
“You’re all vile people,” I spoke, looking to Alex who wanted to laugh so bad by the look on his face.
“And you, why would you do this to me?”
“Because I’m so tired of Reggie and you dancing around each other,” Alex gave me a stern look, making me deflate slightly but that didn’t stop me.
“We do not,” the group finally started to move again, since Reggie would already be in the room and we didn’t want him suspicious.
“Oh no, you’re the liar now,” Luke sang over my shoulder, grabbing his and Julie’s bag, Alex getting him and reaching for Flynn bag who insisted she had it.
“His hands were all over you this morning on the bus,” Julie jumped in, grabbing my shoulders and leading me through the stairway.
“He was teaching me how to play bass,” I crossed my arm, knowing this conversation wasn’t going anywhere.
“Reggie never lets anyone touch his bass!”
I rolled my eyes, they were all insane at this point.
“The reason there are so many ship edits of you guys is that you give them so much to work with,” Flynn said from the front of the group, a kick in her step about the entire idea.
“It’s because fans are crazy,” we had finally made it to the third floor, opening the door and all walking into the smelly hallways.
“It smells like a pack of cigarettes,” I almost coughed as I spoke, watching Reggie’s back open the door and slide into our room.
“You coming to sit with us?”
“No, I’m mad at you all,” I frown, but none of my friends worried as I’d forgive in the morning because they were impossible to stay mad at.
“Suit yourself, also he didn’t have any two bedrooms so have fun sharing a bed,” Flynn gave me a sweet kiss on the cheek and skipped to her and Julie’s room.
“I’ll kill you,” I yelled at Flynn as she walked into her room, Julie giving a sweet waver over her shoulder.
“I wonder if they have a mini-fridge,” Luke spoke, opening the door as the two boys gave me an exciting wave as if they weren’t making my life harder.
“(Y/N)? Why are you yelling?”
I looked down a door or two to see Reggie leaning against the doorframe of our room with a white tee and black and red plaid pajama pants.
He was going to be the death of me.
“Uhm, Fylnn told me they didn’t have a breakfast bar,” I did my best to lie, smiling as I made my way to the door Reggie leaned against, his little smile made me feel light and fluffy.
“I’ll get us one of the Ubers to take us to that little diner on the corner,” Reggie smiled, not moving from the doorframe once I reached it.
I didn’t want to slide past him but I did, doing my best not to come in contact with him as that may just make it worse but luckily he moved back so that didn’t happen.
“Thank god, I like the layout of it.”
I saw the single Queen bed in the center of my room and my heart broke as I thought about Fylnn’s words, she wasn’t just trying to get under my skin.
“Yeah, I know you love dinners that look like they are from the 50s.”
My heart shouldn’t have been on fire because of his words but it 100% was. He remembered those little quirks and it started to make me feel light-headed.
“Yeah they’re my favorite,” I smiled over my shoulder, reaching for my bag I had packed for the night in the motel, luckily bought my sleep stuff and asleep attire.
“There was one by my house back in the 90s, it was right out of that movie you had me watched,” Reggie fell back on the left side, leaving the right side open for me.
He knew what freaking side of the bed I slept on, I was going to combust.
“Grease,” I ignored the way his arms bulged as he laid them behind his hand, looking up at me as I looked through my bag for a few more things.
“Yeah that one, I think I should do my hair like David-“
“Danny,” I corrected as I made my way to the bathroom, leaving the door cracked so I could keep the conversation but still closed enough so I wasn’t worried about Reggie seeing me.
“Oh yeah, I should do my hair like him.” I smiled to myself, imagining Reggie dancing around as a Danny from Grease, the excitement he would have.
I tried not to think about how hot he’d look with his hair slick back.
“Do it for Halloween next year,” I spoke up, splashing water on my face to make me feel a little calmer.
“But I thought we would do a matching costume?”
I was going to scream and cry if he didn’t stop acting like the perfect boy. How do you lie because Reggie Freaking Peters and not fall in love with him?
“You could be Sandy!”
I felt myself smile again, looking down at the short and long shirt I had stolen from Alex that sat on top of the toilet.
“You can have red lipstick and those leather pants,” he sounded like a child that was just given candy, he was jumping just at the thought of the costume together.
“The fans would love it,” maybe it wasn’t the best idea to bring them up, but I couldn’t stop myself from saying it.
“They would! They’d probably talk about how cool you look for months,” I finally got the shirt over my head, looking at myself in the mirror, my nerves calming the longer the conversation went on.
Reggie wouldn’t make this awkward on purpose, I knew that.
“Yeah, but they’d like us matching. They wouldn’t let the dating rumor die though”, I stepped out from the bathroom, careful not to hit the creaking floorboard I found earlier.
“Oh, I didn’t think about that,” I watched his face fall and maybe my heart broke a little, but it was probably better. If it didn’t I would have possibly let this crush grow more and more and I didn’t need that.
“Eh, I don’t really care what the fans think.”
Heart please don’t explode, you have a merch drop tomorrow.
“Must be nice,” I fell back on the bed, laying the same way as Reggie as we looked at the ceiling that could probably fall in any second now.
“Why do you care?”
I watched him flip on his stomach out of the corner of my eye, him watching me but my eyes didn’t leave the ceiling.
“They just like making rumors with people that aren’t in the band sometimes more than the ones in the band. You four are more open than Flynn and I so they can only make so many rumors, but Flynn and I,” I trailed off, not knowing if he wanted this conversation to get too emotional.
“Yeah I noticed that, I mean you're cheating with Luke!”
I laughed at this tone, that definitely was a real crazy one that just started.
“I literally hit him in the head with the mic stand yesterday and kept walking and people think we’re dating”, I laugh at the afterthought, Luke's face when the mic stand went by his face. He was fine, but I didn’t have time to help him up and he understood that.
“That was great to watch, I haven’t seen Luke that confused since we landed here,” I spotted his show stopping smile in the corner of my eye.
“He’s a mess that’s why.”
“All three of us are a mess, without you, Julie, and Flynn we would be dead.”
“You’re already dead,” I tried to keep a straight face but as soon as I looked at Reggie my giggles filled the room, a hand on my stomach as I rolled over slightly.
“You’re horrible! You’re laughing at my death!”
I kept laughing, looking over at him a few times but it only caused me to laugh harder.
“I can’t believe I was excited to have a sleepover with you,” he had a goofy smile on his face as he watched me roll around.
“You 're excited,” I was finally calming down, trying to blame my racing heart on laughing.
“Yeah!”
He was so confident in his answer it felt like he meant it, like he wasn’t just being nice or just happy to be close with his friend.
Reggie liked being with people, he was a people person, and I was a person.
“I was excited too.”
Wow (Y/N) don’t you love your loud mouth.
He looked around my face, his eyes tracing my features with a smile painted across his face. I was shocked someone could be so happy like looked at me, but he did and it felt nice.
It was creepy or uncomfortable, nothing with Reggie ever was. He made everything feel easy, and maybe that’s why he has plagued my thoughts for so long.
“We should head to bed,” I could speak above a whisper with the way he was looking at me, the way his eyes traced my nose and my eyes.
“Yeah.”
We didn’t move, just watching each other as if it was supposed to be sleep for us. I wasn’t tired watching him like this, how could I be tired when he made me feel more alive than ever.
The loud knock on the door brought me out of my trace, my fear of what could be at the door had me moving closer to Reggie without thinking.
I felt the side of the move, Reggie slowly walking to the moldy wooden door with the small peep hole, or more like someone put a nail though and took it out.
He looked through it, reading to each for the candlestick before he rolled his eyes and swung open the door. Alex stood with an awkward smile, doing an odd dance before smiling at Reggie and I.
“Alex?”
“Can I use your bathroom?” I finally realized why he was dancing and smiled to himself.
“Sure but why?”
As soon as he heard my yes he pushed past Reggie, running into the thin wall bathroom without an answer until I heard him yell “Yes!”
“Our bathroom had some weird bug in the toilet and Julie and Flynn’s bathroom was connected to some weird old dude who fell asleep on the toilet,” Alex responded through the door, the excitement obviously in his voice.
“Looks like I got the good room,” Reggie smiled but I was hoping Alex would catch on to my comment and by the way he laughed I think he did.
“Shut up (Y/N)!”
Reggie knocked on the door jokingly as he passed, making his way back to the other side of the bed.
“How did Julie and Flynn get a conjoining room?”
“I don’t know and I don’t want to,” Alex yelled back, the sound of running water confirmed he was now washing his hands.
“You don’t have paper towels,” Alex opens the door, holding his hands in front of him as he looks like a kicked puppy.
“Use your shirt,” Reggie nodded at him, both him and I on our side as we watched Alex.
“It’s not mine! It’s Willie’s.”
“We won’t tell if you don’t,” I smiled back, giving Alex a wink.
“I accidentally told him,” Alex muttered as he started walking to the door, waving back at us and he left to go back to his own room.
As soon as the door shut I let myself laugh a little at my close friend, slowly reaching for the lamp and lifting the covers up. I could feel Reggie doing the same as the cold air hitting my skin when it moved and disappearing once it fell.
“Must I say, this motel isn’t that bad.”
I turned to look back at Reggie, the only reason I could see his face was because of the city lights from the window that danced across his face.
“What?”
“Don’t get me wrong, this place breaks every violation ever, but I think places like this bring out the best stories,” Reggie moved to look at me, his nose close to my own and he smiled at me.
I smiled, it was truly the Reggie-ish thing I had ever heard.
“I believe that,” I spoke softly, watching him again but this time the tension was thick, it felt so much calmer.
“Julie and Flynn will never forget the creepy guy, Alex and Luke will laugh about Alex blatter, and I’ll never forget the best sleepover ever,” each word brought a little larger smile on his face, my heart racing again at his words.
“I mean that much to you?” I said the words jokingly, placing a hand over my heart as I spoke but Reggie took it differently.
“Most definitely,” his words are soft, making my eyes grow tired as his breath fan across my face.
He was watching me again, this time he looked like an angel with the way the city light bounced off his cheeks and bought out his pink lips.
“Yeah?”
“Yep,” his face looked like it was moving closer to me but I knew better than to think that, but that didn’t crush that little hope in the back of my head.
“If you were there in the 90s, I’d probably still be alive,” eye contact was made and I thought I would jump him there.
“I wasn’t alive then.”
“I know, but you’re alive now and I feel alive,” Reggie shrugged as if his words didn’t mean everything to me.
Like he didn’t mean everything to me. I felt myself break eye contact, smiling like a fool as I looked to the tv that was barely hanging on the wall.
“You’re cold,” I spoke softly, because what else was I supposed to say?
“You’re warm,” as he spoke he grew closer to me, resting his head near my collarbone as he waited for me to speak but it never came.
“Can I lay my head on your shoulder?”
“Most definitely,” I repeated his rooms from earlier, smiling when I felt his hair brush my cheek and he drew close to me.
“Goodnight (Y/N),” he spoke softly, his words causing shivers to run up and down my spine like a track race.
“Goodnight Reggie.”
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A loud bang on the door woke me up, causing me to almost fall from the bed if the hand that grabbed my shirt wasn't a tiger. His arms weren’t around me, simply holding me closer by my shirt, his head still on my shoulder as my head laid on his.
“Flynn has coffee!” Julie’s voice was joyus, making a smile spread across my lips. My friends knew me so well, my hands gently pulling Reggie’s fist from my shirt. I carefully pulled myself from the bed, tip-toeing across the room to the door. I didn’t even need to look through the peephole to know who was on the other side.
“Did you get a cup for your neighbor?”
Flynn smiled, dropped, and the coffee she held out to me was brought closer to her chest.
“And to think I gave you a kiss yesterday,” I rolled my eyes, reaching out for the coffee that was easy to pull from her hands.
“Luke and Alex are stealing breakfast from the hotel we were supposed to be staying at,” Julie brushed past me, stopping in her tracks when she noticed Reggie's sleeping body, obviously splashing on both sides of the bed.
“How are they doing that?”
“I don't wanna know, but I do wanna know what happened here last night,” Julie  spun around, pointing at Reggie over her shoulder.
“We talked and went to bed,” I shrugged, doing my best to keep my voice down but it wouldn’t change anything, Reggie was a heavy sleeper.
“I thought you would make a plate on the floor or something,” Flynn spoke as she joined us in the room, slowly walking to Reggie and inspecting him.
“That felt rude,” I sipped on the coffee, smiling when I realized Julie and Flynn got my order right.
“Or,” Julie turned around, poking my side with a goofy smile. I rolled my eyes, my excitement from last night and the presents of my friends was sending me through the roof and I don’t think I could handle it much longer.
“Guys!”
I looked down the hall, smiling when I saw Alex and Luke breathing heavily with large bags of hopeful food in their hands.
“Is that from the hotel?”
“Of course,” Luke smiled as he slipped into the room, handing me one of the bags so I could place it on the small table in the motel.
“We got chased out but we did it!”
I laughed at Alex's face, the anxiety was obvious but the smile told me he was fine and there wasn’t much to worry about.
“Well well well,” Luke walked around the bed, smiling at Reggie’s sleeping form.
“Don’t say a word,” I opened one of the bags and pulled a small piece of pancake off, and threw it in the air, catching it in my mouth easily. Perks of being friends with Luke, he teaches great party tricks.
“Aren’t you two the cutest,” Luke came over to my side, waving Julie over to show me something on her phone. I looked over my shoulder, watching a new edit that was posted maybe an hour ago.
“Reggie and (Y/N) were seen awfully close leaving their hotel last night,” the E! News reporter said, the edit jumping to a meme I had seen of a dude crying. Next thing I knew pictures from last night flash across the screen, Reggie’s hand on my lower back. The edit jumped to other pictures of us joking around followed.
I smiled, turning back to the bag and pulling another piece of pancake out.
“Awh look at that,” Flynn pitched my cheeks, smiling at my as I laughed it off. Butterflies were flying through my stomach but I didn my best to hide it.
“What?”
Everyone turned to Reggie once sleeping form, his eyes scanning the room before he fell back to the bed.
“Did anyone knock?”
“We did,” Julie smiled, flopping on the bed so her head laid on his legs.
“I wasn’t informed,” Reggie sat up, looking at me with a grumpy frown. I shrugged, taking another bite of pancake while smiling at him.
“What? You wanted me to wake you?”
“Most definitely,” Reggie smiled, the conversation from last night still floating around his brain.
I nodded, looking down at my hands and thought back to the late night we had with nothing but calming security.
He was right, crappy motels brought the best memories out in people.
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itsforexposure · 4 years ago
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“It’s for church! Next!”
Transcript of two very long Facebook messenger posts follows:
Client: Hi. I saw that u posted on marketplace
Client: I thought y not get a cute portrait
Artist: Oh yes! I’m open for commissions!
Artist: What do you have in mind?
Client: I would like a traditional painting. A big one. Something like 48x60 inches?
Artist: Wow that’s big
Artist: I’m not sure if I even have canvas that big. It would also take me a long time to do. Maybe 3 weeks?
Artist: A portrait of what though? Of yourself?
Client: No. I would like one of my dog in a mariachi outfit.
Artist: Ok. For that size I can do it for $300. I would need to go buy a canvas that size and I’m giving you a discount for my time. 
Client. Doesn’t seem like much of a discount to me. 
Client. You are not a professional, u don’t need to charge hourly...
Artist: Well I’m trying to make a career out of this and I need to charge based on my experience, cost of supplies, and my time. I’m honestly charging you less than minimum wage based on what material costs. 
[Screenshot showing that a canvas of the appropriate size costs $109.99 at Michael’s]
Artist: This is the price of a canvas that size and that doesn’t include the price of the paint. 
Client: Not to be mean but ur wasting your time by wanting to be an artist. No wonder u were sleeping in ur car. That’s what u get for choosing a worthless career.
Client: If you joined our church we would pray for you. We would illuminate ur future w our prayers.
Client: Tell you what
Client: Do a painting for our church, and we will pray for you.
Client: I know u did a painting about a year ago for our sister [redacted]. Why can’t you do one for us and get saved while u can
Artist: Are you asking me to do a painting for free?
Client: Not free
Client: u know each member pays 20% of their paycheck to church each month. This will be kind of your initiation to our great community
Client: I think u really need it
Client: u are being punished because u keep rejecting Jesus into your life
Client: u need salvation and a new meaning to your life.
Client: u are and will always be a starving artist. Look at u now. Do you want this forever?
Artist: If art wasn’t valuable as you say. How come you sold [redacted]’s painting that you only paid like $30 for like $12000? You bullied her into painting it for church. If art was that worthless why did you pocket that much money?
Artist: I’m not joining your cult
Client: I don’t need to give explanations to a no church member. You have no idea what u are talking about
Artist: Right. You have never had to work in your life. You inherited multiple millions of dollars from your husband, and you are trying to get free artwork from someone who actually wants to work hard for a better future? $300 wouldn’t make a dent in your bank acc. Please stop wasting my time. I’m not joining your cult.
Client: I was blessed to have found a rich husband and blessed to have lived the life I have. You are being punished and will be punished for the rest of your life for rejecting Jesus. I think people like you are better off just disappearing off earth. Such a waste of space. You would have better luck becoming a prostitute instead of selling your shitty art work. I will be praying for you to fail. I have powerful connections, I will send this conversation to all of them. I can’t wait to see you coming back for my help.
Artist: So very Christian of you.
Client: Get out of my messages satan. I can feel your dark energy. ur paintings are also diabolic.
[second screenshot]
Client: I asked [redacted] to ask u for a refund. She told me you told her no? I think you need to come up with the money somehow. Everybody that I’ve shown the screenshots and your art agrees that it’s not worth that much. u have this very dark aura around you and you refuse to get helped. Give up on art. You will never be successful.
Client: I can still help you if you make the portrait
Client: Why don’t you do one of my cat too and I’ll talk to some of my friends and maybe you’ll get any commissions from them too
Client: But you can’t charge that much. What are you even going to do with $300? Make it donation based or a flat fee of $100 for the size I asked.
Client: Being greedy is not going to take you anywhere
Client: You already know what u have to do
Artist: You are nuts. I’m posting this on reddit.
Client: What’s reddit?
Client: You don’t have my consent to do share this conversation. U HEAR ME??
Client: Oh I ready looked that site up. u belong there. Full of sinful and weird people like you. I feel sorry... What are they going to do for u? Look at ur posts on instagram you barely even have likes. I still don’t want you posting this conversation. It will do more damage to ur already failed art business 
[three missed video calls in a row, presumably after the artist posted this to r/choosingbeggars]
Client: Answer my calls I know ur online
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