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stormtrprinstilettos · 5 years ago

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Always the Hero - Roger x Reader (angsty fluffy one shot)

Summary: He was your first everything, and your best friend, until he wasn’t. You left to pursue your dream and left him at home, only it didn’t quite work out that way.

Concept given & requested by @deacyloverogerinalove. Here you go, sweetie. Sorry I took forever.

Word Count: ~6.1k

Warnings: drug use, mentions of abuse, angst, language

He was your best friend, literally since the day you were born. Seriously. You were born on the same day at the same hospital, he two hours before you, something he never failed to remind you of. Your mothers’ rooms were right next door to each other. They didn’t know each other before that day, but they became fast friends – good friends – so the two of you grew up doing everything together. You played together. You started school together, even had the same classes. When you were 8 his family even moved in next door.

Your first heartbreak? He was there to help you through it. It was when you were 9 and the boy you had a crush on told you he thought you were ugly. Roger punched him in the nose. “She’s the prettiest girl in the world!” he yelled after laying that jerk Dexter Cooper out on the ground, before he grabbed your hand and walked you home. He got in a lot of trouble for that, but he wore it like a badge of honor. “I’m the only guy who punched someone for you,” he’d joke as you got older.

Your first kiss? Yep. When you were 10. He was in your room and you were being dramatic, as always, complaining because no one had ever kissed you yet. “I’ll kiss you, Y/N!” he chirped up, always wanting to be your hero. And he did – just one of those sweet, innocent kiddie kisses. It felt funny, but after the two of you giggled uncontrollably for 5 minutes after, you moved on to something else.

Your first date? Him, of course, although you still don’t know if it would be considered an actual date, per se, but he was the first boy your parents ever let you leave the house with at night. He took you to the park down the street from your house when you were 13 because he knew you wanted to watch the lunar eclipse. You were punished, but he managed to convince your mom to let you go.

Your first sexual experience? Of course it was with Roger. It was awkward and terrible and you absolutely hated it, but you were thankful that he was the one you did it with, because it didn’t mortify you too much. It was done more out of curiosity than anything, really. At least on your part.

He was your first everything. He was also your last everything. He was the last person you ever trusted. He was the last person you ever loved. He was also the last person you ever wanted to see again.

“You can’t just leave, Y/N!” he yelled at you that night in July. “You can’t just leave me here!”

Tears were flowing down your cheeks and you couldn’t stop them. “So come with me, Roger! I don’t want to go alone!”

“I can’t leave,” he told you. “I need to finish school.” He walked up to you, his face angered. “And you’re an idiot if you don’t.”

“This opportunity won’t always be around!” you yell. “Auditions are next week. I can’t pass this up!” Always the actress, you fell to your knees in front of him and latched on to his legs. “I need you with me. Please.”

“So I can fail, too?” He was still yelling and he moved himself away from you, leaving you there on the floor. “Get up, Y/N. Save it for the director.”

“You don’t believe in me?” you sniffled. “You don’t think I can make it?”

“It’s not that,” he tried to explain with a lower tone. “I just think you should wait. Give it some time. Finish school. And I promise we’ll go to London together, like we should.”

“You don’t believe I can do this,” you sneered. “You think I’m going to fail.” He tried to reason with you, but you didn’t want to hear it. “You want to hold me back. You want to keep me in this town so I can be an obedient little lady.”

“Where is this coming from?” he asked, shocked by your words. “I don’t want to stay in this town either!”

“You will though. Just like everyone else who swears they’re getting out of here but they never do.” You were still sneering and your anger had hit a boiling point. “You think you’re gonna be some big rock star? You won’t. Because you’ll be here just like the rest of them.” You grab your purse and walk to his bedroom door. “You’ll see, Roger. You’ll see that I’m gonna make it. And you? You’re just gonna be wishing you made something of yourself.” You made a dramatic exit and left, never seeing or talking to him since.

It wasn’t because you made it like you told him you would. It was because you were a massive failure, just like you told him he would be. Funny how things work out sometimes. You were the failure and he was the one who made it.

You saw his band that cold January night in 1971 at The Marquee Club before they had perfected themselves. They weren’t even on the bill. Not that it mattered, because you didn’t even know he was in London, let alone in a band. When you saw him walk on that stage and sit behind those drums, you ran to the back of the room so as to not risk him seeing you. That’s where you would see all of the Queen shows you’d go to – from the back of the room. You were incredibly happy for him but you’d never find him to tell him so. Your pride wouldn’t let you, not to mention the fact that you thought you were probably the last person he’d want to see. You saw them every chance you could, but you never moved from the back of the room.

You think Roger noticed you one time way up in Manchester when they were touring after the release of their first album. Your boyfriend took you there to visit his family, and you begged him to take you to the show. After it was over, you were standing outside and Roger walked by you. He gave you a quick glance, almost like he recognized you, but he just smiled and kept walking. Maybe, you thought, the hair color is what threw him off. From that day on, you always made sure you colored your hair. Just in case.

There was that time the next year outside of the Rainbow back in London, only that time he saw you from a distance. He wasn’t smiling that time, perhaps because he realized it was you. You weren’t sure and you didn’t want to stick around to find out.

By 1975 you had given up on ever becoming the actress you wanted to be. Any auditions you ever went on were for stage shows and they only ever resulted in you being picked for some background extra or some bit part where you’d have maybe three lines. As for any movie or TV auditions? Well, they didn’t want anyone whose biggest role was playing background singer in “Fiddler on the Roof.”

You could have just gone back home and settled into the boring life you now felt you were destined to live, but there was no way you were going to do that. Not now that Roger made something of himself. You didn’t want to hear people gushing about that, asking why you two weren’t together anymore, and you definitely didn’t want word getting back to him that you were the nobody you told him he was going to be.

Instead, you stayed in London and got a job as a waitress in some pub, serving drunkards who liked to grope you every time you’d pass them late into the night. The only way you could handle it was by snorting lines in the bathroom with the cocaine your loving boyfriend provided you. Loving… right. He was useless, but his little drug dealing business paid the rent and put food in your stomach, so you stayed. Not like you felt you were worth more than that anyway. You stayed and dreamt of the life you could have been living if you wouldn’t have been such a bitch all those years ago.

Roger’s band had 5 nights at the Odeon during their tour for their latest album. You wanted to go. The album was great – possibly even the best you had heard. But you didn’t go. Not that you could have – you had to work, and the pub was right across the street, so it was going to be busy after the shows. You needed that stupid job more than you needed to see Roger basking in his glory.

Tonight is busier than the others – show number 4 of 5 had just finished and it felt like the entire venue poured in afterwards. When you walk out after enjoying your first line of the night, Janet, your fellow waitress, yells out to you. “Hey! Y/N! Can you bring this tray to number 6?” You walk to her and pick up the tray of filled pint glasses and look over to table 6 before quickly putting it back down.

“I’ll take this one,” you tell her, grabbing the tray she’s holding in her hand. “Where’s this one go?”

She sees the nerves in your face and starts to laugh. “Yeah, they’re pretty, but they’re really nice. They don’t have that cocky rockstar aura around them at all.” You plead with her and she finally gives in. “This one goes to 14.” You quickly walk away and do everything you can to avoid looking in the direction of table 6, because you don’t want Roger to see you. You do so the entire night, wishing they would just leave, but they stay there for hours. Even past closing time. The manager wasn’t about to kick them or the group they were with out. You managed to convince them to let you stay in the kitchen and help clean. Anything to avoid going out there again. But your panic is still growing and bottling up inside. You can’t even describe the feeling with words and you don’t know how to deal with it except to sneak off to the bathroom again and have another line. You were proud of yourself that this is only the second one of the night, considering.

It takes every ounce of confidence you can muster to walk out of the bathroom. The cocaine did give you confidence so it made strutting out there fairly easy. You fix your hair, straighten your shirt, and walk out the door. “So it really is you,” you hear a familiar voice say. A voice you haven’t heard in years, but you know exactly who it belongs to. You freeze. “I tried to find you, to see how you were doing, but you’re quite elusive.” You gain a false strength and slowly turn around. “Fuck’s sake, Y/N!” Roger yells at you and hurries to wipe underneath your nose with his sleeve. “You missed a spot.” You can’t talk. You know if you do, all you’re going to do is cry.

The only thing you can think to do is push his hand from your face and run away. And that’s what you do. You run straight out the door. You have no idea what to do next, so you stand there for a second and do the only thing you can do – scream. And he runs out behind you, and this time he’s the one who can’t talk. You don’t turn around to see him, but you know he’s there. “Just… go, Roger. Please.” You start to walk, but you’re being followed. You quickly turn around and yell at him. “Leave me alone!”

“No!” he yells back. “This is the first time I see you in 7 years and you look like that’s the last time you slept, not to even mention the fact that you have blow on your face and you want me to leave you alone? No!”

You start to chuckle and roll your eyes. “Well go on then. Tell me all about it. Gloat your ass off and let’s just get this done with. You were right. I was wrong.” You start to cry, although you were putting up a good fight against the tears. “You’re doing everything you ever wanted and I’m nothing but a failure.”

“Why do you think I want to gloat?” he asks, truly concerned about you. “I want to know that you’re okay.” He draws you into a hug and holds you tight. “I’m sure you’re not a failure.”

“They don’t even have a word to describe the level of my failure, Rog,” you cry. “I’ve accomplished nothing but this shit job, a shit boyfriend who I live with in a shit flat.” You pull away from him and back yourself up. “I have to go,” you say quietly. “I’m already later than I told him I would be.” You hurry to turn around and leave, but he grabs your arm. “Don’t touch me,” you grumble as you yank your hand away. “Just leave me alone.”

The next afternoon, when you finally wake up, you jump in the shower and clean off the funk of the night before. Your boyfriend is already gone. He left a note telling you he’s on his way to Manchester and that he’ll be gone for a week. He always tells you it’s to visit his family, but you know he’s really going up there to stock up on his supply. You don’t care. You never care. In fact, any time away from him is a relief. No obligation to spread your legs or suck his dick, after all.

First thing you do is call down to the pub and let them know you won’t make it in tonight. Not after last night. You can’t risk it again. It, being seeing Roger again. But now he knows where you work, so now you’re considering getting a new job, maybe dying your hair a different color, maybe changing your name entirely instead of just your surname. Maybe running off to Paris or something. Anything to not see him again. You light a partially-smoked cigarette that’s sitting in the ashtray and look around the room. It’s a catastrophe – empty beer bottles, empty pizza boxes, overflowing ashtrays, clothes and shoes thrown about… And the only thing you want is another line of your powder. So you clear a spot on the coffee table, knocking everything on the floor that doesn’t have a spot, and get it ready. There’s a loud knock on the door, but you ignore it. “Open the fucking door, Y/N,” you hear, followed by more pounding. “I know you’re home.” It’s Roger.

You get up and go to the door, only opening it a crack. “What?” you ask, annoyed that he’s there. “How did you…”

He pushes the door open and walks past you, standing in your flat and looking around. “I asked that bird at the pub and she told me you’re here.” He looks at you, face full of concern. “What… I’m not the greatest at cleaning, but this isn’t normal, Y/N.”

“Are you here to lecture me?” you snip. “If so, you can leave.” You walk back over to the sofa and bend down to the mirror that is holding the perfect line of cocaine that you were about to enjoy before you were rudely interrupted.

He pulls you back by your shirt and forces your back on the sofa. He steps over your legs and sits next to you. “Your mum doesn’t even know where you were or if you’re even alive, Y/N.” You glare angrily at him. If you could shoot daggers with your eyes, he would be bleeding to death right now. “I’m sitting here looking at you and I don’t even know if you’re alive.”

“I’m breathing, aren’t I?” you angrily snark at him. “Why are you here?”

“Because believe it or not, I care about you.” You chuff and roll your eyes and start to stand up, but he pulls you back down. “Judging by the state of things, and of you, I’m probably the only person who does, so you’re going to sit here and listen to me.”

“Oh, so what am I? Your charity case? Big time rock star needs to use all of his power to help the less fortunate?”

“You think I’ve been living some illustrious life?” He starts to laugh, and it’s annoying you. “I was eating nothing but cheap canned food for 6 years, if I could afford it. I was finally able to buy a new pair of shoes 8 months ago.” You start to cry, just like you were crying yesterday, and you hate the fact that you’re crying. “Stop being angry with me, Y/N. I know it’s your defense mechanism and you…”

“You think you know me, Roger? You don’t…”

“I know you better than you know yourself.”

“You haven’t seen me in 7 years. Things have changed. I’ve changed.”

“I know you changed your last name,” he giggles. “What was so wrong with Y/L/N?” He rubs on your arm and smiles. “You may have changed on the surface, but I know you’re still the same person underneath it all.”

“Why, Roger? Why do you still care? How do you still care? I was terrible to you.”

“I don’t know why. I haven’t gotten you out of my head. You know what the best part is? As soon as the band started getting things right, it’s like you were haunting me. Like a ghost.” You start to giggle. You know he wasn’t seeing a ghost. It was you. “I saw you all the time. Isn’t that silly? At our shows. I swore I even saw you in Manchester once.”

“You did see me in Manchester. You looked right at me and walked by.”

“You ripped my heart out, Y/N. It took me a long time to forgive that.”

“I’ve never forgiven myself for that,” you whisper. “I’m so sorry…” You clear your throat. “But as you can see, karma has caught up with me.” You try to smile through the pain, but the only thing you can do is look absolutely pathetic. “I’ve been paying the price for 7 years.” He knows that no matter what he says, it’s not going to undo the pain you’re clearly feeling, so he stays silent, looking into your eyes with a sympathetic smile. Those eyes of his always calmed you down. “I’m proud of you. I want you to know that.”

“So that makes my mum and you who are proud of me,” he chuckles.

“At least you have two people in your corner,” you mumble, realizing for the first time how alone you really are.

“Hey. I’m in your corner,” he says as he pulls you into a hug, your head on his shoulder. “I’ve always been there. Even when I didn’t think I was.” He pulls back and smiles at you before getting up to walk to the kitchen. “Do you have garbage bags in there?”

“It would be easier to just set everything on fire.”

“Or maybe easier for you to come stay with me for a few days? I figure we can clean you up in a few days. I have to leave…” He sees the confused, amused and distraught look on your face and slows down. “I have to leave in 4 days, and I’ll be gone for a week, but then I’ll be back. When will he be back?”

“Next week, supposedly.” He waves for you to stand up, so you do, and start walking to your bedroom to pack a bag. There’s no use trying to argue with him. You’ve never won an argument with him in your life, and you know there’s no way it’s going to happen now.

“Alright. Then we’ll get your things and you’re coming with me. We’ll have you back…” He grabs your arm and you flinch. “I barely even touched you,” he giggles, but he stops immediately, noticing the wince of pain on your face. He lifts up the sleeve of your shirt and noticed a huge bruise on your upper arm. “What happened?” he asks, furious. “Don’t tell me you knocked it on something. Mum would get these on her arms, too, and she would always lie and tell me she knocked herself on something.”

You stand up and start to walk away, but he rushes behind you and lifts up the back of your shirt. “Stop that!” you yell, but it’s too late.

“Jesus Christ, Y/N,” he whispers, seeing the bruises on your back. “Jesus…” You turn and face him and see tears in his eyes. “When?”

“Those? Last night,” you whisper back. “I was late…”

“Get your things. Now. You’re coming with me.”

The next three days were pure hell. Pure hell that you wouldn’t wish on your worst enemy. Of course, you were your own worst enemy, but that goes without saying. Thankfully your body wasn’t completely dependent on the coke, so your detox wasn’t long, but the three days you went through it? Terrible. You wanted to die. You even asked Roger to just let you die because it would be less painful, not just to you but to him, too. You’d yell at him for every little thing. Everything about him was annoying you, especially the way he’d pick food out of his teeth after eating. Eating? Yeah, you couldn’t get enough food, and you even yelled at him for letting you eat because you just knew you were going to gain 20 pounds. The nightmares were the worst, though, and that’s why you didn’t sleep much. But he was right there with you through every single second, even if it was just to let you lay your head on his lap so he could play with your hair to help you fall asleep.

By the fourth day, the day he was leaving, you felt normal. Alive. Back to your old self, even. You helped him pack and reminisced about old times, feeling like those seven years you were apart never even happened. “Remember how we used to sneak out on the roof at night and throw rocks at the cars that would drive by?” you laughed.

“Yeah, and how I took the blame when you broke the window on Mr. Louis’s car,” he grinned. “Or when I took the blame for when you sheered Mrs. Ward’s cat.”

“Don’t forget the time I painted on the school wall,” you laugh. “Headmaster Evans is a cunt,” you both say at the same time with huge laughter. “You always looked out for me,” you smile, soft and adoringly.

“No reason to stop now.” He sees the worry that’s starting to take over your face and he rushes over to give you a hug. “Hey, you’ll be alright,” he tells you. “I’ll call you every night to lecture you.” You start to giggle and pull back, looking at him with a small smile. “I didn’t just go through all of the agony of these last few days to have to do it all over again, Y/N,” he jokes. “You’re a terrible person.”

“I’m not the one who has to make all of that noise when I have something stuck in my teeth,” you playfully fuss as you push yourself out of his hug. “And don’t even get me started on how you made me eat junk food and wouldn’t let me have a beer.”

“You make it through this next week unscathed and I promise you beer and a nice steak for dinner. I’ll even bring toothpicks so I don’t annoy you.”

Before you can retort, you hear a female’s voice coming from the living room and give him a curious grin. “Rog? Are you ready?”

“That’s Lottie,” he sighs. “She’s…”

“Your girlfriend?” you giggle.

“At least until next week,” he winks, and you slap his shoulder. “What? It’s nice to have…” He stops before he finishes and acknowledges her standing in the doorway of his bedroom. “Lottie! This is Y/N. We…”

“I’ve heard a lot about you. You grew up with Rog, yeah?” she says as she walks over to you. “He’s told me some pretty interesting stories.” She holds out her hand and smiles, as do you, and you shake hands. “Did you really shave your neighbor’s Persian cat and blame him for it?” she giggles.

“Hey, he took the blame,” you laugh. “And I made sure he had his candy when he was locked in his room for a week because of it.”

He moves over and puts a hand on Lottie’s back. “I’ll be down in a minute,” he says. “Just give me a moment, alright?” He gives her a quick peck on the cheek and she leaves. When he hears the front door close, he finishes what he wanted to tell you before she came in. “All she is is a distraction. Company. A…”

“Groupie?” you giggle. “Look at you. You really hit the big time now. Got yourself a groupie who has a key to the flat.”

“Well it’s convenient,” he mumbles with an unamused smirk, reaching in his pocket. “Here’s the key. And here’s some money for food.”

“Rog, I don’t need money…” You tried to push it back, but he insisted.

“What time will you be home?”

You start to laugh. “Well, if I still have a job, around midnight. If I don’t, then I’ll be here all day and night.”

“I’m calling at midnight. And I’ll call when I get to the hotel in a few hours, just in case they did fire you. And I’ll call in the morning…”

“Roger,” you giggle. “Go. Don’t leave the missus waiting.” You get behind him and push him to the door.

“Then I guess I’ll see you when you get home.” He turns and smiles at you with that same smile he’s always had. “Goodnight, sweetheart.” He kisses you on the cheek and heads down to the waiting car. You can’t stop the childish giggle. He used to sing that song to you all the time, even as kids, and it always made your heart flutter.

He was only gone for four days, but they were the longest days of your life. Funny how you went 7 years without him, but now that he’s back in your life, you could hardly stand being away from him for a few days. Yes, he called every day, sometimes twice or three times, but it wasn’t the same as having him there with you. So when he got home, you didn’t want to do anything but enjoy his presence, doing nothing special. Just sitting on the sofa and talking.

“I was talking to Brian’s friend yesterday. Her brother is an aspiring playwright, and he’s getting a cast together to put on his new play…” You glare at him, wondering why he’s even telling you this. “Auditions will be on Wednesday at…”

“I hope it works out for him,” you say, cutting him off, not wanting to hear what comes next.

“I told her you may be interested…”

“No,” you say, cutting him off again. “Not interested at all.”

“Oh come on, Y/N,” he says, trying to encourage you, give you your spark and passion for acting back. “You were always so good…”

“I don’t want to, okay? I tried and it didn’t work out,” you snip, annoyed, but trying not to be too annoyed with him. He’s trying to help, and his intentions are good. “I do, however, have an interview tomorrow at Biba.”

He groans and shakes his head. “You don’t want to work there.”

“Why not?” you laugh. “I like clothes.”

“And you’ll be gawked at all day and no. You can get something better than that.” You were taken aback by his overprotective tone, something you had seen the whole time growing up, but you didn’t know why working at a clothes store would get him so worked up. “If you need a job I can give you a job.”

“Right,” you chuckle. “As what? Your housekeeper?”

“My assistant.” He’s got that big, mischievous smile on his face and you roll your eyes.

“Because you’re so important you need an assistant.”

“Fred has one!” he says, somewhat offended that you didn’t think he was important enough to have one of his own. “And my assistant would get to travel with me.” He playfully nudges your arm. “And I’m going buy a house. Get out of this flat. So I’ll need help with…”

“I appreciate the offer, but as you have seen, I can barely take care of myself, let alone some rockstar.”

“Hey,” he says, taking your face in his hands and turning you to look at him. He wasn’t joking. “When we were 12, we swore we were gonna see the world, and that we were gonna see it together.”

“We swore a lot of things when we were kids, Rog,” you sigh.

“And I promised when I was 10 that I would always take care of you.” You shake your head no. “Come on, Y/N. It’ll be fun.” His mischievous smile comes back and he starts poking you with his finger. “New York. You’ve always wanted to go there.” You start to giggle. “And Japan? We’re going back. You’d love Japan.”

“Can I think about it?”

“Nope.”

“Alright. Alright I’ll be your assistant. Don’t get a big head, though. I remember when you were 8 and had to get stripped down and hosed off because you stepped in an ant pile.”

“You’ve seen me naked,” he chuckles. “Big deal. You’re not the only one.”

“But I’ve seen you naked, soaking wet and crying,” you laugh. “I have stories, Peanut.”

He starts to groan and laugh. “Don’t ever call me that in front of other people.”

“Then don’t make me be the one to wash your underwear,” you grin.

“I’m a washed up never-has-been who struck gold with pretty boy Roger Taylor of Queen,” you giggle, your feet propped up on an equipment box as you lay on the floor reading the latest copy of News of the World. John hurries and moves to lay next to you so he can see the latest tabloid writeup.

“But they had that picture of you and Brian last week. I think they called you the Mystery Madam or something,” he chuckles. “I’m a bit jealous that I’m not ever a part of the tabloid fodder.”

You look over to him and smile, playfully wagging your eyebrows. “We can always fix that.” Just then, Roger walks by and you hear him groan. “Hey Rog?” you yell out. “Did you read this?”

“Yeah, I saw it,” he mumbles.

“Clearly I’m quite talented since I’ve managed to fool you into thinking my feelings are real.” You quickly jump up and hug him from behind, and he finally starts to laugh too. “And lets not forget: it all happened at a supersonic speed since I supposedly just met you three weeks ago.”

He turns around, completely amazed by you and how well you’re taking all of this. “This doesn’t bother you?”

“Hey, I said I was going to be a somebody,” you joke. “If I can’t get my face in the tabloids on my own, I’ll just have to use you to do it.” You tap the tip of his finger on your nose and walk away.

His eyes follow you as you walk outside, only to be startled by John, who walks next to him and throws an arm around his shoulder. “So what’s going on with the two of you?” he asks John. “You’ve been spending a lot of time together.”

“She’s fun,” John grins. “Nothing wrong with a fun friend.” He immediately regrets using those words once he sees the angered reaction on Roger’s face. Roger knows what “fun friends” he’s had in the past, and he was livid thinking for a fleeting moment that you were that kind of girl to John. “I didn’t mean that, Rog!” John shouts. “She’s fun! And she’s just a friend! Not…” Roger walks away in a huff, hurrying to find you.

You’re standing outside, leaning against the wall, enjoying a cigarette, sunglasses on and the breeze blowing in your hair. You see Roger walk out, almost in a panic, but you don’t alert him to your presence. You’re quite amused and are enjoying the show. “Fuck,” you hear him groan. “Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.”

“Hey, pretty boy,” you call out. “You seem bothered.” He looks over to you and his face lights up. “Wanna talk?” You walk over and sit next to him, resting your head on his shoulder.

He clears his throat and takes a deep breath, as if he’s about to ask you something he really doesn’t want to know the answer to. “What’s going on with you and Deaky?”

“He’s fun!” you giggle.

“Funny. He said the same about you.” His tone is completely unimpressed, but you don’t pick up on that right away.

“Last night when we were at the pub, he…” You can tell by the look on his face that he really doesn’t care. “He’s a friend, Rog. That’s all.”

You look up at him and smile, and he smiles back. “Like, you and me friend or…?”

“No one is a you and me type of friend, silly.” You giggle and kiss him on the cheek. “You’ve always been my favorite guy and you always will be.”

“Yeah, until some bloke comes along and takes you away,” he says with a smirk and an eye roll.

“Never!” you yell dramatically, before giving him your own smirk. “Unless it’s Dexter Cooper.”

“I’ll punch him again if I ever see him,” he says with a laugh, flashing that same boyish smile he’s always had.

You put your head back on his shoulder and lace your arms into his. “You ever wonder if there’s some cosmic alignment that creates the perfect circumstances for two people to just be completely connected to each other?”

“That went way over my head.”

“I just mean… You and me. Since birth. We’ve always been together. Attached at the hip, practically. We’ve done everything together. Any memory I have of being a kid you’re right there. And we were apart for so long but it’s almost like those 7 years never happened and we picked up right where we left off.” You look up at him and smile. “Minus me being a complete cunt to you, which I don’t think I’ll ever be able to apologize enough for.”

“My only regret in life is that I didn’t leave with you,” he says, not smiling, but with a face full of regret. “I shouldn’t have let you leave alone.”

“I shouldn’t have left…” You voice trails off before you clear your throat, not wanting to rehash the only bad spot of your past. “But none of that matters now.” You rest your chin on his shoulder and look at him. “Flanders and Swann together again.”

“I hated when they called us that,” he chuckles. “I always wished it would be less comedic duo and more Elizabeth and Mr. Darcy.” You sit up and move back a little, quite surprised by what he just said. “Did I just make everything awkward?” He looks away, trying to move but you don’t let him. “When I punched Dexter Cooper I said you were the prettiest girl in the whole world. You always have been and you always will be.” He turns his head back to you and smiles nervously. “And I know I’m breaking every single rule of friendship right now, but dammit, Y/N. I’ve loved you my whole life. I know it’s so cliché and this is only the type of stuff that goes into those cheesy romance books you read, but…”

You start to giggle at his awkwardness, and he stops talking, not sure if he’s supposed to laugh or be worried that you think he’s an idiot. “I happen to love cheesy, Roger. And I’ve never played by the rules.” You take your arms out of his and hold your palm to his cheek, reassuring him that this is all okay. “And if you don’t fucking kiss me right now I’m leaving,” you say with a giggle.

He didn’t want you to leave. You left him once and he wasn’t going to let you leave again.

I know y’all came for the smut 😂 but you’re all on my permatag list, so...

@clogwearingspacepoodle @briansfatbottomgirl @culturefiendtrashqueen @jennyggggrrr @shutup-sorry @dontstopmemeow @letmelivetaylor @tommyleeownsme @ziggymay @drowseoftaylor @mariekuuuuuh @biscuit-barrel @givemequeen @luvborhap @quirkydeaky @capsparrowtara @vousmemanqueez @vanitysfairr @langdonzvoid @i-cant-hangout-im-drumming @thigh-your-mother-down

#roger taylor x reader #roger taylor angst #roger taylor fluff #by request

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1ooo-w0rds · 6 years ago

Text

we met on ocean avenue pt 3

A/N: September fic. The lack of Leo is making me sad. Instead we have Hazel, Drew and Tristan to keep Piper company. Left on a bit of a cliff hanger. @dancer-dramatic-13 any edits for this chapter?

Part: one. two.

Hazel, 4:50pm: Where are you? My mom and I are here.

Piper, 5:10pm: omw. Forgot how horrible LA traffic is.

Hazel, 5:12pm: You Texans and your big roads.

Piper, 5:13pm: Hey, everything's bigger in Texas.

Piper: And I'm not scared of dying on the road with your crazy drivers.

Hazel, 5:15pm: Pssh, our drivers are just fine. We've honed our reflexes.

Piper, 5:16pm: And endanger everyone else on the road.

Hazel, 5:17pm: No one's dead.

Piper, 5:17: Yet.

Piper giggled as Hazel sent her a string of emojis with a lot of eyerolls, glares and angry faces. Tristan's eyes met hers in the rear view mirror as he turned off of the busy highway. Jackie, his PA, sat comfortably in the passenger seat, tapping on her phone. Piper always found it odd how her dad enjoyed driving, especially with the horrible LA traffic. Jackie laughed when she started working for Tristan, not used to being chauffeured by her boss.

"It's one of the few things he can control." Jackie told Piper once as they watched Tristan get fussed over in the makeup chair. Wardrobe held up a shirt, frowning before tossing it into the pile. Tristan was all smiles, the ever charming actor. Jackie hugged her phone to her chest. "We all need that one thing we alone can control. For him, it's driving."

"When is it acceptable to leave a cast party?" Piper held her phone to her lips to hide her grin at Tristan's comment.

"Whatever you're thinking, it's too soon." Jackie answered without looking up from her phone. Tristan sighed dramatically like a teenager. Unfazed, Jackie reached out and patted Tristan's arm. "Don't worry, sir, it's only the main cast, a good number of the crew and their family. No paparazzi or media. Dawn booked the place underneath her family name. No one suspects a thing."

"Unless they're following little McMeme. Our own paparazzi." Tristan said as he nodded back to his daughter. Piper shrugged in response. Her live tweets about Huntington Hospital cast-related parties and insider events were hilarious. They were her most popular, drawing in fans young and old of the show. She made sure to highlight different actors and actresses and even people in the crew.

"Dad, you know my tweets are what makes Huntington Hospital so popular." Piper said with a smug grin. "We can't stop this tradition now. I'm in too deep."

"You should be happy it's only her, Tristan." Jackie reassured before they discussed details about a charity event. Piper blocked out the business chat as she tried to get a good angle for her pre-party selfie.

Piper McLean, PiperMcMeme: To the cast party! #HuntingtonHospital #Insider #LATraffic #SayYesToThisDress?

Esmeralda Valdez MamaValdez: Aw sweetie that's adorable! I love the jacket!

Piper smiled reading Mama Valdez' reply to her post, as a notification popped up. Hazel had messaged her again.

Hazel, 5:25: I'm going to scout out an area for us to hide when things get out of hand.

Hazel, 5:26: Let's hope it's not a repeat of 2012 again.

Piper, 5:28: I hope not. I still can't believe that Valentina cracked that glass over Laurel's head.

Hazel, 5:29: The sound of the crack was surprisingly satisfying to hear.

Piper, 5:30: Hazel!

Piper sighed as she turned to look out the window. The long rows of palm trees against the clear blue sky zoomed by. Tour buses full of tourists inched by as they tried to merge in. She could hear the speaker as they pointed out famous landmarks and studios while telling stories of the rich and famous. Piper hugged her phone to her chest, missing the quietness of her small town. Time moved too quickly in this city. She could barely take a moment to breathe. Her phone buzzed against her chest and she looked down.

Grandpa Tom: Little dove, how's the city of stars? Is your father well?

Piper's heart squeezed at the pet name of grandpa gave her. Grandpa Tom was her paternal grandfather and when she's home in League City, her guardian. She taught him to text recently, amazed by how quickly he caught on. Piper nibbled her lower lip as her hands shook a bit.

As amazing as Grandpa Tom is, Piper still worried about his health. The air in Los Angeles is harsh which is why Tristan is hesitant to relocate Grandpa Tom. He always had lung problems for his entire life. Neither modern or traditional Cherokee medicine had any effects. But being away from his father and daughter for so long is having an affect on Tristan and his work. Thankfully, Esmeralda "Mama" Valdez offered to keep an eye on the two to ease Tristan's mind.

"You're practically family." Esmeralda said when Tristan tried to offer her money. "I would be doing this even if you were here, Tristan. Stop being a stiff." Piper grinned at the memory as she typed out her response.

Piper: Jackie is keeping him clean, fed and employed. Which Hollywood star would you like a picture of this time?

Grandpa Tom: Surprise me, dove. Mama Valdez is here to watch Wheel of Fortune with me. Love you. He added a pair of kiss-y and winky emojis.

"Oh and apparently he's showing up today at the party." Piper blinked as she caught the tail end of Jackie's words right as they pulled into the valet parking. Tristan turned and faced his assistant with wide eyes. Jackie grinned back. "Surprised?"

"Didn't he just fly in?" Tristan asked as the valet opened his door. Piper cranked her neck, trying to follow the conversation but Jackie stepped out. Tristan moved to hand his keys over, still whispering to his assisstant about this mysterious person. Piper frowned, unable to catch any words as she smoothed down the folds of her dress. "Who told him to come? He should be resting."

"He probably wants to make a good impression." Jackie replied as she looked over Tristan one more time. The redhead sighed and shook her head before stepping into Tristan's personal bubble, patting the creases out of his polo. Like she could sense his glare, Jackie looked up. "Don't shoot the messenger, Tristan. That's just what Amie told me. It could just be rumors."

"Sure." Tristan murmured back as she stepped away, satisfied with his appearance. "Come on, Piper."

"Coming." Piper said as she quickly typed up her tweet.

Piper McLean, PiperMcMeme: Scoop! Looks like there might be a new face on #HuntingtonHospital #WhoCouldItBe?

Jackie tutted but smiled knowing as Piper slide her phone back into her pocket. Piper shrugged. Jackie shouldn't know better then to talk about business in front of Piper. The redhead shook her head fondly before wandering over to where the other PAs were gathering.

The party was in full swing when Tristain and Piper stepped in. The large pool had kids splashing as their parents chatted. Huntington Hospital is a close-knit group of stars. "Tristan!" Alyssa, Tristan's co-star, called out as she held her hands open accepting his hug. They chatted happily as she pulled Tristan to where everyone else was gathered. Her father gave Piper a 'save me' look which she smiled and waved goodbye to.

Piper leaned against the stone railing, looking around the pool for a familiar head of cinnamon brown. "Hazel!" Piper screamed when she noticed her with a beach ball tossing to the other kids. Piper rushed down the stairs, ignoring the warning calls from the adults. She nearly tackled the fourteen year old as she hugged her tightly. Hazel laughed as she returned the hug. "Look at you! That romper is so cute!" She gushed as she held Hazel arm's length.

Hazel was a petite thing with gleeful golden eyes and an easy smile. Her beautiful hair curled in tight ringlets. The baby blue of the romper accented her dark skin perfectly. A simple silver necklace sat at the base of her neck. She had some paint splattered on her arm, probably from painting. Her mother works on special effects for the show. It involves a lot of fake blood.

"Ah, Piper! What about you?" Hazel screamed back as she clenched her arms.

"Yes, looks like little McLean can look nice." Piper cringed at the sound of the sultry voice and backhanded compliment. She turned slowly and tried not to glare as one of the stylists of Huntington Hospital approached them. Drew Tanaka has always been a thorn in Piper's side. The older girl looked stunning in her maxi dress that highlighted her long legs and womanly curves. Her black hair fell artfully over her left shoulder in soft curls. Her signature golden bands clicked together on her wrist as she reached for the sleeve of Piper's dress. "I recognized this dress. You're follow my blog?"

"I don't know what you're talking about." Piper denied as she crossed her arms, unwilling to admit it was one of Drew's recommendation for the summer. Aside from being one of the youngest stylist on the crew, Drew ran a successful fashion blog. She featured a number of new styles, makeup tutorials and general tips for all body types. She gain a lot of fame, explaining clothing choices for the characters of the show and her own personal projects.

"Of course you don't." Drew replied before turning to Hazel and complimenting her on her outfit. Hazel did a little spin at her request. Piper frowned, not sure how Drew and Hazel were friends. While Hazel is the sweetest person you've ever met, Drew knows exactly what to say to bring your mood down. She constantly rubbed Piper the wrong way.

"Drew," Hazel asked as the girls finished pleasantries, "you're not usually at the season opening party. You always complained how it's the same old faces." Piper sipped her mocktail as she settled at the edge of the pool, dipping her feet in the cool water. Hazel and Drew sat on a beach chair right behind her. Children of the cast laughed as they ran around, playing with pool toys. Tristan stood with his co-star as someone showed them a video of their son.

"Amie said I should be here." Drew started as she stirred her drink. "Apparently there's an upstart who's joining the cast this season. They want me to keep an eye on him, style his character and help navigate LA and Hollywood. What a pain." Drew shook her head. Again, another mention of a new star. "He's about your age, Piper. Instagram famous to boot."

"Yeah? What's his handle?" Piper asked.

"JASON!" Everyone seemed to jump at the booming voice of the director as he opened his arms, greeting the young man who just entered the patio area. A pair of dark sunglasses covered his eyes. He wore a light blue short sleeve paired with a nice pair of shorts. He lifted his sunglasses as the director pulled him into a hug, laughing as the man patted his back. Piper felt her heart thump in her chest as she connected the dots. BlondSuperman aka Jason Grace was here in all his glory.

"Well," Drew murmured as she pushed her sunglasses up to sit atop of her hair. "He's not a hopeless case."

Piper's hand shook as she took her phone out, trying to get the camera open. Jason shook her dad's hand, laughing a bit as Alyssa pinched his cheeks. She can't post this on Twitter, it's too big of a scoop and Huntington Hospital's marketing group would hound her for days. Pulling out her personal Tumblr, Piper typed out a post.

McMeme:

Holy shit. Holy shit. Holy shit. This is not a drill. This is not a drill. Jason fucking Grace, hottie of the year, just walked into the pool area I'm at. I'm trying not to freak out and fall into this pool. He's soo hot. No one is allowed to be that hot.

#WhatIsGoingOn? #HolyHell #ThisCanNotBeHappening? #DidISayHeWasHot #FuckI'mNotTaggingHim

Once Piper's heart stopped pounding in her chest and she posted, a little bubble popped up in her notifications. A message popped in her inbox.

Anonymous: Do you still do For the Vine? I dare you to ask out Jason Grace and post it on Twitter.

#hint of jaisper #piper mclean #jason grace #social media au #fanfic #mine #fanfic 2018

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bughead-fic-request · 7 years ago

Note

Hi. Would you consider writing a bughead one-shot that was a romantic date night? It's up to you if you want to make it a fluffy fic or smut. xD Anyways, that's my request and its a super broad one at that.

Modern Love

Summary: Rising movie star Jughead Jones takes seasoned pop star Betty Cooper on a date unlike any other.

Words: 4,487

Warnings: Mentions of miscarriage, drug use, smoking, drinking, slight sexual situations. No smut.

A/N: Here is my take on the romantic date night cause I can’t do anything like a normal person. I posted on AO3 as well.

I edited this myself so there are probably errors.

Betty Cooper had been famous for most of her life. When she auditioned for X-Factor as a fourteen year old, she was put together with three other girls to create the next big girl group, Aurora.

They came in third place on the show but became one of the biggest girl groups since the Spice Girls. Four years and three albums later Betty was ready to move out on her own as a solo artist and was met with astounding success. Not only was Betty a talented singer but a gifted songwriter as well.

Her first solo album went on to win 4 Grammys and sky rocketed her into super stardom.

It was around this time she met the much older Academy Award winning actor, Archie Andrews. Their courtship was a whirlwind and four months later the couple was married.

It was a rocky marriage at best that lasted a little over two and a half years. Unknown to Betty when they wed, Archie was a heavy drug user and this made him erratic, unsupportive, unreliable and, at times, violent.

The marriage ended after Archie had gotten them into a serious car crash. Betty had broken her arm, both of her legs and had technically died for two minutes. Neither Archie nor the former Mrs. Andrews ever spoke about the accident and Betty filled for divorce the moment she recovered.

Betty was twenty-two, divorced and had just released her sophomore album. It was an album about Archie and it showed. Beautiful heartbreaking songs about love, loss, mistakes and an eyebrow raising track called “Not If You Were The Last Junkie On Earth” got people talking.

She refused to confirm if it was a song about her former husband but there were already plenty rumours about Archie Andrews alleged drug use. Archie had a great PR team but people and the tabloids could speculate but it was never harmful enough to ruin his career.

Betty assumed she would never fall in love again. She couldn’t date like regular people, she couldn’t do anything without it being looked over with a fine toothed comb. Archie had messed her up too badly and she knew she would never be who she was before she met him.

And then Jughead Jones came out of nowhere.

He was listed as one of the actors to watch in 2017. The year before he had been in six movies working with Martin Scorsese, Jennifer Lawrence, Damien Chazelle, Anton Yelchin, Jeff Bridges and Mike Nichols. He had worked on the reboot of Twin Peaks and had four more films coming out in 2017, including a role in the newest Star Wars movie.

He had been working on a film with David Fincher in Los Angeles when he met Betty. She was a friend of actress Veronica Lodge who was currently working on the movie as well. They had all been invited to a party Charlize Theron was throwing.

He met her on the terrace after he snuck out to have a cigarette he wasn’t supposed to be having. Veronica was trying to ween him off the cancer sticks, as she called them.

“You’re not supposed to be doing that.” Betty chided coming out of the shadows. Her soft blonde hair whipping around her face.

Jughead jumped and clutched his chest in surprise. “Fuck!”

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you but those things will kill you and if they don’t, Veronica certainly will. She’s been telling me all about her mission to make you smoke free.” Betty joked taking a step towards him.

“Can it be our little secret? I’m still not used to all this Hollywood stuff and the cigarettes calm me.” He admitted.

She smiled and nodded her head. “Sure.”

“You want one?” He offered her the pack.

“No thanks, it’s not good for my voice.” She informed touching her throat.

Jughead moved his head in understanding and put the pack in his pocket. “I love the new album by the way.”

Betty felt her cheeks flush, still not able to understand why anyone would praise her. “Thanks. It turned out really well but it was hell to make.”

“Yeah, I heard about all that stuff. I’m sorry.” He took a drag of the cigarette looking out to the city.

She shrugged, ripping up a leaf she had pulled off a plant. “I made a bad choice, we all make them.”

He stood up straight and stuck out his hand. “I’m Jughead Jones, by the way.”

Betty laughed. “I know.”

“You do?” He asked shocked.

“Well, yeah, Veronica pointed you out almost the second we got in here and I’ve seen your movies.” She smirked when his eyes went wide.

“You have?” He said still shocked.

“Yeah, there isn’t a lot to on a tour bus so I’ve seen La La Land and X-Men and Green Room, you’re good.” She tucked her hair behind her ear.

Jughead blushed. “And how did you meet Veronica?”

“I did a song for the Hunger Games movie she was in and we met her at the promo party. I found her in a bathroom, drunk and throwing up. I held back her hair and cleaned her up. We’ve been friends ever since.”

“What a strange thing to bond over.” Jughead remarked.

“Jug?” Veronica’s voice rang out. “Bets?”

Jughead started panicking, not knowing what to do with the cigarette. Betty giggled as she watched him struggle before taking the cigarette from his hand and throwing it over the side of the building.

They both turned to watch Veronica, the statuesque brunette, step out onto the terrace. “Good! You met, sorry I didn’t introduce the two of you sooner but these parties are so exhausting.” She stopped in front of the pair. “Were you smoking?” She asked, eyeing Jughead.

He shook his head. “It must be from one of the buildings around us or something or maybe a raccoon carried a cigarette up here-”

Betty cut him off. “There was someone out here smoking. They went in just before you came out.”

Veronica’s eyes narrowed. “Let’s go inside. James McAvoy and Michael Fassbender showed up and they are singing karaoke.” She clapped rapidly before turning on her heels and skipping back into the apartment.

Betty glanced at him with a grin. “You know, for someone who lies for a living, you’re a terrible liar.” She moved towards the inside and motioned her head in the same direction. “Come on, if we are doing karaoke then this is my time to shine.”

The two of them found themselves gravitating towards each other all night. Jughead couldn’t take his eyes off her when she sang a rendition of ‘Don’t Go Breaking My Heart’ with Michael Fassbender.

He immediately understood why she was the only one to be successful when the girls broke free from Aurora. She had that thing, that star quality that would make her incredibly famous even if she wasn’t talented. Your eye was instantly drawn to her.

The night came to a close but before her and Veronica left Jughead caught up with them.

“Hey Betty, do you think I could give you a call some time?” He asked feeling stupid for doing it in front of Veronica who began to smirk. “Or a text or email or call your agent? I don’t know, I’ve never asked out a famous person before.”

Betty laughed and shot a quick look to Veronica who gave her an encouraging nod. “Give me your phone.” She instructed.

He handed her the device and she punched in her number. “That is my personal number, please protect it.” She handed it back to him. “Please use it though.”

“I will, I promise.” He smiled at her.

Betty tucked her hair behind ears and laughed. “I’ll see you around then.” She gave him a small wave, got into the elevator and disappeared with Veronica.

He did call her and they went on a handful of dates, usually at her place and one at his. They had attempted a dinner out but the paparazzi and constant interruptions from fans made it impossible.

They had managed to go on an outing to a secret lake in a field two hours outside of Los Angeles. No one had followed them and it was the first time they were alone in a place that wasn’t one of their homes.

“You know that I’ve never been on a real date before. I guess this would come closest.” Betty said as she sunned topless while Jughead looked over the scattered tattoos on her body.

“What do you mean?” Jughead asked looking up at her.

“I mean every date I’ve ever been on has been overrun by paparazzi or every other person is asking me for an autograph.” She sighed. “I’ve never had that, ’Where did you grow up?’, ‘What’s your family like?’ kind of dinner date. I’ve never really felt normal but I guess that’s the price for everything I have.”

“A real date isn’t much different, I can assure you. I can understand the want to have something you’ve never had.” His finger ran across the underside of her breast. “What is this? What do these names mean?” He asked tracing the names Natalie and William.

Betty shifted uncomfortably. “The second I tell you, you’ll look at me differently.” She admitted.

“You don’t have to tell me anything you don’t want to tell me.” He said taking a sip of his beer, looking at the tranquil surroundings around them.

They were silent for sometime before Betty spoke. “I was two months pregnant when Archie got us into that car crash. I had no idea, my period had always been fucked up so I thought the light spotting was normal.” She swallowed hard. “He was on heroin that night, I didn’t know that either. I thought he was drunk and he had become so belligerent I just wanted to leave.” She was silent again for so long he thought the story was over until she started again. “They said I barely looked like a person when they pulled me out of the wreckage, they couldn’t believe I was alive. When I came too and found out that I had lost the baby, I wish I had died. I was even more furious that Archie walked away unscathed.” She sat up and took a sip of her drink. “There were some dark nights I thought about killing him.” She confessed and looked down at him. “I didn’t know if it was a boy or a girl but this is what I would have named them either way.”

“That’s what the song is about? The Junkie one? It’s about Archie.”

Betty nodded. “‘Red Red Red’ is about the babies.”

Jughead nodded and thought about a certain lyric from the song.

What’s happened has happened/What’s coming is already on its way/With a role for me to play/I don’t understand/I’ll never understand/But I’ll try to understand/There’s nothing else I can do

“I’m so sorry Betty.” He said.

“So am I.” She shook her head. “He was the biggest mistake I’ve ever made and I’ll never forgive myself for making it.”

Jughead sat up and brushed the hair from her face. “Bets, you have to, okay? You have to try. I’ll help you if you want.”

She smiled and nodded, leaning in to kiss him. “Thank you for being so wonderful.” She remarked.

“It’s easy when I’m with you.” He brushed her hair away from her face and kissed her again, pushing her down into the grass.

They made love for the first time that afternoon.

Jughead knew he wanted to do something special for her because he was falling in love with her. She had been through so much in her short life and it killed him to watch her deal with the pain.

He wanted to give her something no other person could give her.

“Can you be ready for 8?” He asked her on the phone as he paced his trailer.

“I can, is there anything you want me to wear?” She teased in a playful way.

“If I said I have a thing for little black dresses, would you be repulsed?” Jughead joked.

“Many fashion critics have said that a little black dress is what I look best in.” She giggled. “Let me know when you are getting here and I’ll buzz you in.”

“Sounds great!” Jughead was trying to hide his excitement as he signed off on a release for the nights upcoming festivities. “I’ll see you in a couple of hours.”

“I’m counting on it.” She hung up and Jughead head smiled.

He looked at the grey three piece that hung in the closet. He looked good in grey, grey was the right color. She would like him in grey.

Betty had too many little black dresses, they had accumulated over the years. Ones she had bought and ones that had been given to her for photoshoots, red carpets and when she was performing on stage. She settled on a tight, strapless satin dress that cut off just above the knee. She put her hair up in a high teased ponytail and slipped on some strappy gold high heels. She kept her makeup minimal.

Her doorbell rang around six. Betty was confused because she hadn’t agreed to let Jughead in yet and he was far too early for the date. She strode to her front door to be greeted by Gus, the man who guarded her community, holding a large bouquet of red roses in a vase.

“Oh my god, come in Gus!” She waved him in, making room on the table sitting in the middle of her grand foyer. “Where did these come from?”

“A messenger dropped them off, there is a card.” Gus said placing them down.

She opened the card and couldn’t help the smile that tugged at her lips.

You’re smiling aren’t you? You better be smiling. I’ll see you soon. - Jughead xoxo

Betty bit her lip as a blush crept into her cheeks. She was falling hard for this boy and it terrified her. The last time she fell for someone she almost lost her life but she loved the smile on her face and the fire in her cheeks and knew she needed to take that chance.

“Thank you, Gus.” Betty cooed.

“Never a problem, Miss Cooper.” Gus gave a slight nod and went out the way he came in.

Betty had gotten dressed far too early and found herself sitting around watching crappy reality TV with a nervous excitement running through her. She didn’t think her foot could bounce anymore when her house phone rang.

“Hello, Miss Cooper, a Jughead Jones is here.” Gus said knowing full well who Jughead was.

“Yep, let him in.” She instructed putting down her phone and running to the mirror to make sure she still looked good.

She took a deep breath in. This felt different from any other date they had ever been on. Betty felt like everything would be different when she kissed him goodbye that night.

The doorbell rang and she forced herself to walk at a normal pace to answer it. She couldn’t help the smile that spread across her face when she saw him. He was wearing a pristinely tailored, grey three piece suit and his dark hair was brushed back.

“Hi.” She sighed leaning against the door, forgetting all her manners.

“Hi.” He softly said back, taking a step towards her, his arm wrapping around her waist pulling her flush against him. His lips met hers, the kiss was delicate but filled with all the expectation of the coming night. “You look incredible.”

Betty blushed. “Thank you.” She kissed him again as she ran her hands up and down his arms. “What are we doing tonight?” She asked.

“It’s a surprise.” He grinned wickedly.

“Do we have time for a drink?” She asked.

Jughead shook his head. “We have reservations for 8:30 and we have to be on time for them.”

Betty pouted before smiling at him. “Fine, let me grab my clutch.” She turned to collect her small black satin bag that was sitting beside the roses. “Thank you for those by the way.” She said as she locked up. “I love roses, they are so beautiful.”

“I’m glad you liked them.” Jughead placed his hand on her lower back and steered her towards the car. He opened the door to his black Mercedes and helped Betty inside. Jughead handed her a blindfold once he was in the car.

“What is this?” Betty asked with skeptical eyes.

“I need you to put it on. I want where we are going to be a surprise and it can’t be a surprise if you see where we’re going.” He explained placing the blindfold in her hand. “I promise it’ll be worth it.”

She stared at him for a moment and then half smiled. “Okay.” She put it on and settled back into the seat as the car took off.

“Are you ready for the crazy amount of paparazzi that are going to be wherever we are going. You know they are following us. They sit outside my house constantly.” She informed.

“I’m ready for it.” He assured linking his fingers with hers.

They were silent as they drove to their destination, Betty trying to count turns, trying to figure out where they were headed. The car stopped and Jughead got out.

“Jug? Jug?” She said almost taking off the blindfold before he jumped back in.

“Sorry about that, just a few more minutes, promise.” The car started moving again.

She felt a wave of excitement flow through her. “Can I take off the blindfold?” She asked when the car finally stopped again.

“Yes.” Jughead said getting out of the vehicle.

Betty blinked a few times after taking off the mask letting her eyes adjust to where they were. They were parked on a quiet street. There were shops, apartments and restaurants lining the block as people went about their lives. There was no paparazzi, no star fuckers, nothing Betty was accustomed to. “This place looks weird.”

She stepped out of the car when Jughead held the door open for her and directed her to a small Italian restaurant called, Alle Testiere, a few doors down from where they parked. “Where are we? Are we still in the city?” She asked.

“Kinda.” He smiled as they entered the building.

There were a few couples in front of them and they waited their turn to speak to the hostess. Betty couldn’t remember the last time she had to wait for anything.

“Hi there,” the dark haired hostess beamed. “For two?”

“Yeah, there is a reservation under Jones for 8:30.” He looked over the podium to look at the log.

“Ah, yes, we are just getting your table ready right now, please take a seat.” She motioned over to a bench by the door.

Jughead and Betty sat down and she looked around at the other people waiting to be seated. They carried on conversations with each other seemingly ignoring the movie and pop star in front of them.

“Is your car actually a Tardis that sent us to a parallel timeline where we aren’t famous?” Betty asked looking over at him.

He laughed, unbuttoning his suit jacket. “No, my car is not a Tardis.”

“It’s a Delorean and we have gone back in time to the 90’s?” She inquired.

“Why are you so obsessed with time travel?” He questioned.

“Why aren’t any of these people looking at me? At us?”

He shrugged. “Maybe you aren’t as famous as you think you are.”

“Jones!” The hostess called.

Jughead stood and held his hand out to her. “Come on.”

She followed him to a small table for two surrounded by couples who didn’t seem to care they were there.

“You like Italian food, right?” Jughead asked as he began looking over the wine menu.

“Yeah, I love Italian.” Betty said looking around. No one was secretly pointing their phones at her or whispering to each other. “Seriously though, where are we?”

“Hello, my name is Andrew and I will be you server for tonight.” A tall blonde man smiled down at them.

Jughead looked at her. “Do you mind if I order wine for the table?”

She shook her head reaching for her phone, trying to figure out where she was but was distracted when Jughead started speaking.

“We’ll have the 2013 Switchback.” Jughead said with a smile as he handed the waiter the wine list.

“Excellent choice, sir, I’ll be right back.”

Betty looked over it him. “Jug.” She said calmly, her hands pressing flat against the leather menu.

“Bets.” He said looking over his food options.

“What is this place?”

He put the menu down and smiled at her. “Do you remember our date at the lake and you told me you had never been on a real date before?”

Betty nodded slowly.

“This is your first real date.” He lifted his arms, showcasing his work off.

“I don’t understand.” She admitted.

“I called in every favour I was owed and most actors in L.A. will do anything for a free meal and 50 bucks. Fincher being Fincher demanded to have a whole city block built and wanted to do tracking shots into this restaurant so…” He trailed off.

“This is a backlot?” She asked starting to understand what he had done for her.

He nodded.

“And all these people are actors?”

“Who have all signed non-disclosures, have no phones and, for just tonight, have no idea who you are.”

A wave of emotion hit her and she let out a mix of a sob and a laugh. “Oh my god, Jug.” Tears filled her eyes as she covered her agape mouth.

“Everyone should go one at least one real date.” He smiled warmly at her.

“I cannot believe you did this.” She laughed as a few tears streaked her face. “How much did this cost? How long were you planning this?” She asked wanting to jump across the table and hug him with no intention of ever letting go.

“That’s not for you to worry about.” He smiled. She could see the love in his eyes and she felt like she was about to burst.

That was the moment she fell in love with him.

“Sir.” The waiter showed him the bottle of wine and Jughead nodded. The server began to uncork the wine. “Are we here for a special occasion?” He asked.

“It’s our first real date.” Jughead told him before sniffing, tasting and nodding that the wine was okay.

“Oh, well that is lovely.” He smiled at Betty who was drying her eyes, still overwhelmed by what was happening. “The specials tonight are Chicken Carbonara and Seafood Bolognese. I would recommended both.” He smiled.

“Can we have one of each? We’ll share.” Betty laughed.

“Coming right up.” The waiter left.

“How are they cooking the meals?” Betty asked as she took a sip of the amazing wine.

“You don’t need to worry about that either.” He leaned back in his chair. “So, where did you grow up?”

She laughed. He was making sure she had a true date experience. “I grew up in a small town called Riverdale. It’s not very interesting. You don’t want to go there.”

“You didn’t have a happy childhood?” He asked.

She shrugged. “It was fine, it’s just a small town and it’s boring and I was forced into a lot of excitement at a very young age and I’m not sure I could live there anymore.”

“I grew up in a small town in Canada. Innisfil, Ontario, it’s not far from Toronto.”

“You’re Canadian?” Betty exclaimed. “I didn’t know that! Why didn’t you say anything?”

“It never came up but I never much cared for where I grew up either. I felt like I had bigger ideas than a small town would allow.” He took a sip of his wine. “That’s probably why I left.”

“I can relate to that.” Betty laughed. “My mom took me to LA when I was ten. I was in so many commercials before I tried out for X-Factor.”

“What was it like being famous that young?”

“I think I thought I was an adult when I wasn’t. I didn’t really get to be a kid, I basically had to sexualize myself the second I was put into Aurora. I grew up fast and it was probably the reason I thought I was ready to get married when I was eighteen.”

“Would you have done anything differently, in retrospect?” Jughead asked knowing the answer.

Betty took a sip of her wine. “Other than that horrible night, no. Being in Aurora was amazing and I love what I do. Marrying Archie was a mistake I needed to make to get myself to this very moment.” She smiled warmly. “This is a pretty exceptional moment.”

“Do you have any siblings?” Jughead asked.

Betty nodded. “An older brother and sister.”

“Really?” Jughead leaned forward. “Do you get along?” He asked.

Betty started talking about her family and every aspect of her life she could think of. Jughead did the same as dinner came and went along with dessert. No one bothered them, they received no knowing looks, not a single phone was ever pointed at them just as he had promised.

For the first time in a long time, Betty felt normal.

Jughead paid the bill and they lazily walked back to the car without a single paparazzo shoving a camera in their face or asking her if she was still in love with Archie.

Betty looked out the window, her fingers laced with Jughead’s as they left the lot and drove home. She couldn’t remember a time she felt so content, like everything was going to be fine.

Jughead parked the car in front of her home and walked her to the door, which she unlocked and stepped inside. “I don’t think I’ll ever be able to thank you properly for this night.”

“I’m hoping there will be plenty of moments for you to try.” Jughead whispered pulling Betty in for a kiss. This was more intense than the first one they shared that night. He didn’t care if he was going to mess up her make up or wreck her hair, he needed to be as close to her as possible.

“I’m in love with you.” Betty said first, panting when they parted.

Jughead looked at her, his eyes moving over her face wanting to remember her flushed cheeks and swollen lips. “I love you too.” He kissed her again as she pulled him into her home and he closed the door behind him.

Jughead stayed the night and every night after that.

#riverdale #Bughead #bughead fanfiction #betty cooper #jughead jones #jughead x betty #betty x jughead #one shot #ao3 #romantic date

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suzannebyrne · 7 years ago

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Jennifer Lawrence's revealing gown is a reminder that sexism in Hollywood is real

Francis Lawrence, Matthias Schoenaerts, Jennifer Lawrence, Joel Edgerton, and Jeremy Irons attend the Red Sparrow photocall at Corinthia London on Feb. 20, 2018. (Photo: David M. Benett/Dave Benett/Getty Images)

When it comes to selling movies, actors and actresses play two entirely different games. Looking at new photos of Jennifer Lawrence at a cast photocall Tuesday for Red Sparrow makes that abundantly clear.

Lawrence stood on a rooftop in London, where temps topped out at 49 degrees today, in a body baring, low-cut black Versace gown with a leg slit well up one thigh for the photo session. Solo shots of the Academy Award winner, 27, quickly drew comparisons to Elizabeth Hurley’s infamous safety pin dress, but the group photos are what really stand out. That’s because Lawrence looked supremely out of place alongside her male counterparts, who were enjoying a denim day and, ya know, had on coats.

Francis Lawrence, Matthias Schoenaerts, Jennifer Lawrence, Joel Edgerton, and Jeremy Irons attend the Red Sparrow photocall at Corinthia London on February 20, 2018. (Photo: David M. Benett/Dave Benett/Getty Images)

Jill Lincoln and Jordan Johnson, Lawrence’s stylists, probably pulled outfits in the double digits for their client to wear throughout this press tour, and their decision process behind this particular look has yet to come to light (they have yet to respond to our request for comment). And, yes, stars get paid to wear famous designs, with Versace quickly stepping forward to take credit for the show-stopping look. But Lawrence’s revealing look juxtaposed with her covered-up co-workers serves as a reminder that the expectations of women and men are so different — so much so that Joel Edgerton can show up dressed like a sailor while Jennifer comes looking like Jessica Rabbit.

Joel Edgerton and Jennifer Lawrence attend a Red Sparrow photocall at the Corinthia Hotel, London. (Photo by Ian West/PA Images via Getty Images):

While #MeToo and #TimesUp are the new way of Hollywood (and Lawrence has long been spotlighting the gender pay gap), this is the same conversation that’s been going on for years, including very memorably in 2015 when Selena Gomez was promoting Transylvania alongside professional gym clothes wearers Adam Sandler and Kevin James. Back then, Yahoo Lifestyle asked: What would happen it if played out the opposite way and Gomez opted for the dressed down approach?

That same question — only with Lawrence as the subject — is being asked again on Twitter.

Ok now someone take this same photo, only Jennifer Lawrence gets pants, boots, and a jacket, and the men have to wear low cut sexy gowns. pic.twitter.com/xPkuIKhVwY

— (((OhNoSheTwitnt))) (@OhNoSheTwitnt) February 20, 2018

And it’s just part of the dialogue on social media right now about equality in Hollywood.

True equality means Jennifer Lawrence forgoing the need to look sexy and having the enterprise to dress warmly like her costars https://t.co/03xKlWkPIM

— ☩ Führer King J ☩ (@svphvclvs) February 20, 2018

True equality means either Jennifer Lawrence getting a coat, or Jeremy Irons having to pose for a photocall in assless chaps.

— Helen Lewis (@helenlewis) February 20, 2018

Though not everyone agrees that it’s sexism.

The same people complaining about the "patriarchy" because Jennifer Lawrence wore a revealing dress in cold weather are the same ones that crucified Tiffany Trump for showing too much leg on Thanksgiving.

— Trent C (@TPoppaPuff) February 20, 2018

Pretty sure Jennifer Lawrence could have worn a Versace coat to match her Versace dress if she’d have wanted to. Sorry but for me this is a case of being appauled about nothing. https://t.co/Xdtqj2CvDU

— Alessandra (@MrsMintMav) February 20, 2018

Mad thing about this is, I remember Jennifer Lawrence talking about how she had an insight into the hunger games because of having to dress up for photo shoots and be paraded around at award shows. That was 6 years ago, why is this still happening? https://t.co/8hRX4rtNzT

— wrongtom (@TheWrongtom) February 20, 2018

Did anyone bother to ask #JenniferLawrence If she was happy to pose in the dress? Maybe she was or even (heaven forbid) told her people she WANTED to do it! Depressing that assumptions are being made or have I missed her saying she was forced into it? https://t.co/T7YLC2ugbe

— Denise Mickle (@DeniseMickle) February 20, 2018

Many people couldn’t believe that Lawrence wouldn’t speak up for herself.

theres no way jennifer lawrence was told to dress like that for the photograph. even if she did i suspect she'd tell them to f*** o**.

— Mark Welsh (@markdwelsh) February 20, 2018

Others just blamed her stylists — or the Ver$ace connection.

Okay but why was Jennifer Lawrence in a backless evening gown, during the day, outside, in February to begin with? Speaks less about patriarchy and more about dumb management/PR/stylists. #RedSparrow

— Thee Opinion (@Out_RAE_Geous) February 20, 2018

Is it the whole Jennifer Lawrence thing? I’m baffled by their outrage. She’s getting paid to wear that dress. I don’t think Versace would have been chuffed to see a glimpse of it under a coat.

— Jennifer Boyle (@LazyCyclist_) February 20, 2018

There's always a conversation to be had about inequality but I really do think #JenniferLawrence wanted everyone to see the Versace dress. She could have worn a coat. She chose not to.

— Rent Treznor (@logic_avenger) February 20, 2018

But Jennifer Lawrence is a big enough star to demand a coat. Either she wanted to show off her dress or she didn't care for a coat. Either way, why blame Hollywood in this case? SMH https://t.co/USybMAFthj

— Highly Favored (@tokingblackgirl) February 20, 2018

It’s freezing outside today, but Jennifer Lawrence herself CHOSE to dress like that…. so no sympathy from me. pic.twitter.com/knbYC8Gppr

— Annabel R Nielsen (@annabel_rn) February 20, 2018

Joel Edgerton is wearing 4 layers. I counted. Jennifer Lawrence is a frickin hero in my eyes! I would not be wearing that dress. I'd be wearing one of those blurry little smudges they put over your mouth when you swear on camera!

— Oak Ayling (@OakAyling) February 20, 2018

Wouldn't true #equality be #JenniferLawrence demanding a coat? Wearing a coat? Refusing to wear a dress in the cold? Did the camera man "or woman" hold a gun to her head?#RedSparrow #RedSparrowMovie #photoshoot

— WilliamRLBaker ✌ (@WilliamRLBaker) February 20, 2018

One person just wanted to borrow the dress for prom.

so uh… @jenniferlawrence would you mind if i borrowed a dress for prom

— madisyn (@madisynleee) February 20, 2018

This is just one controversy (and one of many ensembles) related to Lawrence during this press tour though. She was accused of being “rude” to Joanna Lumley during BAFTAs.