#they would have gotten drunk and taylor would wake up to the news that shes four for four on prt director deaths

[spindle-girl]

The real reason Jack is lame is because his clone army (already ripping off Noelle) stopped the Undersiders' 18th birthday party for Taylor

[elvesandlanterns]

Cale Anti-Hero

It wasn’t often that Cale found himself alone. There was always ‘something’ happening so it was totally reasonable that he wanted to take advantage of his new found free time. They had settled on singing; it had use to be Cales favorite pass time with his mother, he had not sang in years and for Kim it had been even longer. ….. they really should had been more careful.

I have this thing where I get older but just never wiser

Ron stopped short of the mansions entryway, Hans and the kids rushing in only to quite. They had all planned to come home earlier today. Had no one told Cale?

Ron huffed, what was this puppy saying? Cale had matured so fast in such a short time, too fast even.

Midnights become my afternoons

Raon chuckled it was just like his human to sleep the whole day away if he could! Good thing Lemon gramps was here to wake him up!

When my depression works the graveyard shift

The wolf children stopped smiling turning to look at Lock, “What does that mean!”, “What’s wrong?”, “Hyung Lock haven’t you been taking care of him!”. Lock stilled beside Beacrox, no no this couldn’t be happening how could their savior, the man who took them in be so unhappy?

All of the people I've ghosted stand there in the room

What did that mean, Cale had never killed anyone if anyone was to be haunted by ghost it should be me though Choi Han. Listening in from a different room in the house, having taken an entrance through the window instead of the door like a reasonable man.

I should not be left to my own devices

Alberu seconded that! Cale never does know when to leave shit alone. He’s been surprised to have gotten a call from Cales children only to be welcomed with the sound of beautiful singing. But Alberus’ stomach began to twist he had a bad feeling just where this was going.

They come with prices and vices

I end up in crises

Rosalyn started next to Alberu ready to teleport at a moments notice! Cheeks puffing in anger, just who on Earth would go to Cale demanding money? And enough to put Cale in crises… maybe this was before from when Cale use to be a trash drunk ? The lyrics did say “vices” after all hhhmmm

Tale as old as time

I wake up screaming from dreaming

The dragon and cats looked at each other in confusion, Cale loved sleep they definitely would have noticed if he had nightmares!

Ron closed his eyes and sighed, oh those nightmares after the first Countess had died. Was he the only one that ever knew about those? Not that he was of much help, Cale was nothing like his own son he still didn’t know how to confront or comfort him at all,

One day I'll watch as you're leaving

'Cause you got tired of my scheming

For the last time

Positively Everyone froze, what? Did Cale think that they would all just abandon him?

Deruth began to cry, he didn’t want to see this anymore. Who had decided to share such a thing with them in the first place? It never would had been Cale. That child never aloud himself to be so vulnerable in front of his family. In front of him. What kind of a father had he been?

The Henituse family could here Deruth crying but no one had any words to console him. After all wasn’t this there fault? They had made Cale feel so unloved and unwanted in his own home that he now believed that no one would stay with him if give the chance.

It's me

Hi!

I'm the problem, it's me

Cage was beginning to regret picking up the call from Cale kids right now. Taylor was utterly distraught and admittedly so was she. Cale was a good person! Their very own lucky charm!

At teatime

Everybody agrees

Basen felt ashamed. He remembered getting into verbal tirades with Cale the first few times his trashy behavior had started. He had told him to act better, for the family’s social reputation if nothing else! But just how many of those tea times included demeaning his brother as a part of the entertainment. And then he had just yelled at him and told him to go back to endure more. He was a horrible brother.

I'll stare directly at the sun but never in the mirror

Pasetons face flushed a tad, he had considered Cale a bit vain actually. Not that he didn’t have a right to be! But did Cale perhaps not enjoy looking at himself? Did they perhaps have this in common?

It must be exhausting always rooting for the anti-hero

Antihero? But Cale was a hero! Sure he did unsavory things to reach his goals but.. but… did it perhaps bother Cale? He always did say he wanted a slacker life.

Sometimes I feel like everybody is a sexy baby

And I'm a monster on the hill

If Violan had been less dignified or more hot tempered she would have thrown her teacup into the wall! Instead she rose from her seat to talk to her husband, no one no matter how noble was going to get away with making Cale feel uncomfortable in his own body! Violan smiled, no doubt Cales new body guard and vice captain Hilsmans knights would agree.

Too big to hang out

Slowly lurching toward your favorite city

On and Hong hissed! Yeah to save it!

Pierced through the heart but never killed

Something in Choi Han broke, Cales voice cracked as if he was crying. He never wanted to hear Cale cry, it hurt so much to not be able to do anything- he’d do anything.

Did you hear my covert narcissism

I might disguise as altruism

Like some kind of congressman

Alberu hummed at that, did Cale hate politics that much? What is this feeling ? Oh right guilt.

Tale as old as time

I wake up screaming from dreaming

One day I'll watch as you're leaving

And life will lose all its meaning

For the last time

It's me

Hi!

I'm the problem, it's me (I'm the problem, it's me)

At teatime

Everybody agrees

I'll stare directly at the sun but never in the mirror

It must be exhausting always rooting for the anti-hero

Choi Han decided to join everyone else at the parlor, he couldn’t take this alone anymore.

I have this dream my daughter-in-law kills me for the money

She thinks I left them in the will

On and Hong were outraged! They would never love someone so despicable!

Meanwhile every adult was enraged! They would protect Cale and his little family - was that why Cale loved money?

The family gathers 'round and reads it

And then someone screams out

"He's laughing up at us from hell!"

Cage was bewildered why would Cale ever think he would go there? And didn’t Cale not believe in god?!?!

It's me

Hi!

No one knew what to do after the song ended, everybody in person or on call was as tense as a bow string. There were no words to break the tension.

Cale was beginning to play the piano again, oh dear god now what??!?!

[lady-divine-writes]

Klaine Advent Challenge 2021 - “Taste of Heaven” (Rated G)

Summary: All Kurt wants for Christmas is a good night's sleep, but Blaine has a cookie emergency that threatens to rob him of the twelve hours of shut-eye he was hoping for.

But that might be a good thing. (1582 words)

Notes: Written for the Klaine Advent Challenge 2021 prompts: rise, ordinary, qualification, work, cup, and company.

Read on AO3.

"Kurt?"

Kurt murmurs something vaguely resembling the word what while keeping his eyes closed. He has no intention of opening them. Opening his eyes means rise and shine!

Nope.

That's not him. 

Not yet.

The past few years, he has wanted only one thing for Christmas - a good night's sleep. That way, he doesn't look like a bleary-eyed mess when family stops by. Not that much family will be stopping by with the new social distancing measures in effect. 

His father and stepmother won't be. 

Even though they’ve all gotten the vaccine and the booster, it's not worth the risk. Not with the way the number of virus cases has been climbing again. But Cooper will be by, accompanied by Blaine's mom.

Kurt would rather not look like death warmed over when they get there.

Kurt worked hard to get to bed as early as he could. He'd finished wrapping presents days before, had their daughter's new bike assembled at the shop where he bought it, and finished tomorrow's food prep all before nine.

He's not waking up early unless someone is dying.

Even then, he’ll require proof.

"Help. Kurt? Help… "

Kurt's lips twist into a calculating grin. "What is it, Taylor?"

Three beats of silence pass, and then, "That's not funny, Kurt."

"You mean not funny like when you came home drunk from your bachelor party and called me Tom?"

Kurt hears Blaine gulp and bites his teeth together to keep from laughing.

"Touche. But I need you to wake up."

"No. I got to sleep early. It's all I wanted, so that's what I'm doing. You promised you wouldn't wake me till ten a.m.."

"I know I did, unless it was an emergency."

“Unless it was an emergency," Kurt mimics. But when realization hits, he shoots up, swinging his legs over the side of the mattress with his eyes still shut. "What... what's going on? Is it Tracy? Is she hurt?"

"No. She's okay." Blaine takes his husband's hands in his and gives them a tug. "Can you please just come with me?"

"Can you explain first? Because all of this mysterious mystery isn't doing my heart any favors."

"Sorry." Blaine continues to tug on his husband’s hands until Kurt groans reluctantly to his feet. "Here's the run-down - Tracy woke me up about an hour ago to make cookies… "

Kurt frowns. "Cookies?"

"A-ha."

"This is a cookie emergency?"

"Sort of?" Blaine admits lamely.

Kurt stops walking. "You've made about a million cookies in your lifetime. Why do you need my help?"

"Because this time I'm a little out of my wheelhouse."

Kurt snickers, then he snorts, and because the situation has gone from annoying to amusing, he starts walking again, allowing his husband to lead him to the kitchen. "You have a cookie-making wheelhouse?"

"Focus, Kurt. Focus."

"Sorry. I did just wake up."

"She didn't want to make any ordinary cookie," Blaine continues, nudging guilt aside for the greater good. "She wanted to make your mom's Lacy Almond and Mexican Chocolate Roll-Ups."

"Wow. Look at our little Tracy, scaling Mt. Everest.”

“Yup. She takes after you that way.”

Kurt hears the smile in his husband’s voice. Flattery does go far in their relationship. Kurt won’t lie. But he knows his husband. 

He knows he’s sincere.

“Did she make it safely to the top?" Kurt asks.

"Not quite. They turned out a little… “ Blaine pauses and hems, searching for a tactful way to describe the situation “… wrong. And I don't have the necessary qualifications to fix them."

Kurt stops walking when his hip bumps the counter. He'll have to open his eyes eventually, but he’s stalling for as long as possible. Just a few more seconds of blissful blackness. That's all he asks.

"I know that's my mom's most complicated cookie recipe, but I'm sure they can't have turned out too - whoa!" Kurt stares, drop-jawed, at the sheet of congealed black before him, center oozing a blacker substance still. The cookies are supposed to be light as air, delicate, pale on the outside, with a swirl of cocoa peeking through the ends. 

These don’t look like his mom’s roll-ups. 

They don’t even resemble cookies.

“Too much brown sugar,” Kurt deduces under his breath, “not enough flour, too high heat, jeez… “

Three years ago, Tracy built a model of The La Brea Tar Pits for school. She used a combination of dirt, peat, and Elmer’s glue to create the base.

These “cookies” look exactly like that.

He gives it a poke. It makes a popping sound, and he physically recoils. "What happened?"

"Let's just say mistakes were made," Blaine says quietly. Kurt thinks he catches Blaine cross himself once or twice. "But now I need your help to fix them."

"Scrape them into the trash and cover them with coffee grounds. She'll think Santa ate them, like every year."

"Uh... that’s the thing. She didn't make them for Santa. She made them for you."

Kurt tilts his head, meets his husband's gaze. "For me?"

"Yeah. She said she wanted you to have something special for Christmas."

"But we make cookies all the time."

“It’s not about the cookies. It’s about… your mom.”

Kurt’s eyelids narrow as he tries to get that comment to make sense. “What about my mom?”

Blaine runs a tired hand through his mussed curls and looks down at his feet. “I promised I wouldn’t tell you.”

“That means you should probably tell me,” Kurt retorts, knowing his logic is flawed. But this early in the morning (three, he thinks, if he can trust his microwave), logic doesn’t exist.

He’ll broach the subject with his husband later when he’s conscious.

“I guess she overheard you on the phone with your dad,” Blaine explains. “Talking about how much you miss your mom over the holidays and… “

“Say no more,” Kurt mumbles, shame catapulting him fully awake. Frick.

No wonder he didn’t get the lead in West Side Story. He obviously isn’t as good an actor as he takes himself for.

Kurt adores Christmas. Always has. He’s not religious, but he loves the ritual of the holiday: planning, decorating, buying gifts, going to parties and school plays and dinners with his friends and family. He has even suffered through a few midnight masses so that their tiny trio could spend quality time with Tracy’s mom, Mercedes. Participate in her holiday traditions.

But he hasn’t enjoyed Christmas as much lately as when he first became a father. 

As Tracy gets older, everything feels like a chore, especially as they struggle with the COVID pandemic.

And the things Kurt loves he has started to avoid.

Kurt will admit he didn’t try his hardest to hide his melancholy. But he wasn’t worried about diminishing his daughter’s Christmas spirit. Blaine has enough for both of them. The man is practically an elf. Kurt figured Blaine’s enthusiasm would compensate for his own apathy, and Tracy wouldn’t notice.

But his daughter is too smart for her own good.

Kurt has been going through the motions. That’s one of the reasons he wanted to get to bed early.

He wanted to get Christmas over with.

Kurt thought Christmas would be a thousand times better, happier, more joyful when he had a child of his own. And it was for the first few years. But more and more, it underscores how much he misses his mother.

Kurt didn’t have a bad life after his mother passed. Far from it. Burt Hummel is the greatest father that has ever walked the earth. But Kurt feels cheated every day that his mother isn’t around, curses every missed Christmas, birthday, and graduation.

His wedding and the birth of his daughter.

Tracy has a mom, two dads, grandparents, and a host of adopted aunts and uncles who drop in for nearly every holiday, every special event.

He hates to admit he’s jealous of his own daughter. 

Kurt yawns, presses the heels of his hands into his eyes to wipe away the sleep.

But mostly to hide the tears.

He needs to make this up to his daughter. 

And this is where he starts.

"How did you tell her they were going to get fixed?" Kurt asks.

"I told her that leaving them to cool would activate the baking soda, and they'd puff right up."

"And... ?"

"She didn't believe that. She said you'd taught her enough about baking to know that wasn't true."

Kurt grins at the brilliance of his daughter. "Good girl. And after that?"

"Santa magic."

"Did she believe that?"

"Yes."

"Crap." 

Why did Blaine have to say Santa magic? Why couldn't he have said 'hopes and prayers'? Tracy is clever enough to know that those aren't worth a thing. 

But Santa magic must be preserved.

Kurt's elusive night's sleep on Christmas Eve remains out of reach for yet one more year. But maybe it should. This time, at least. "All right. Let's get to work keeping the spirit of Christmas alive."

“Excellent!” Blaine says with a muffled clap. “Shall I give you your space? Let the master work?”

“Nu-uh! I’m not going to bake while you sneak off to the sofa for some shut-eye. Misery loves company." Kurt plants his hands on Blaine's shoulders and moves him into the space between the kitchen island and the stove. He shoves a measuring cup in his hand and points to a bag of flour. "You’re manning the flour station. Maybe you’ll learn something.”

[minutiaewritings]

but I knew you ⋆ draco malfoy

A/N- this is a draco malfoy imagine based off taylor swift’s song ‘cardigan’. 

Bold font is flashbacks, bold italic font are the lyrics! 

angst and i guess a little fluff here and there:)

Sensual politics When you are young, they assume you know nothing

Voldemort was back. There was no denying it, everyone knew it. Whether they wanted to believe it or not, he was back. Hogwarts no longer had that gleam of ‘safe and perfect’. 

“I saw him, Y/n, I did. I wouldn’t lie about something like this.” Harry potter mumbled next to you as you sat with the gold trio, your fork slushing around the mashed potatoes on your plate. 

“I know harry, I believe you. I just wish Umbridge did, she’s such a git.” You scoffed, causing Ron to chuckle. The turkey leg the Weasley was holding to his lips caused grease and juice to spew onto his chin. You and Hermione shared a disgusted glance as you handed him a napkin.

You were pulled out of your thoughts as you saw shining, blonde platinum hair enter the great hall. “I’ll be right back, I need to have a word with a certain Slytherin.” You excused yourself and shuffled towards Draco. 

You flattened your robes as you approached him. “Draco...”You said softly, reaching out to grab the pureblood’s arm. Draco jumped slightly, causing a frown to grow on your features. He had been so different lately, no longer wanting to sit with you at the astronomy tower in the middle of the night, no longer asking you to sit with him during meals. Dark bags had found a home under his normally bright, beautiful blue eyes. His eyes still caused your heart to falter but in a different way. When he looked at you, his expression was no longer soft and warm, it was cold and distant. As if he wasn’t actually there in front of you, his brain elsewhere. 

“Draco..” You said again, trying to get him to focus on you. 

“I have something to attend to.” Draco said coolly and turned, leaving you standing alone by the Slytherin table. Pansy gave you a sad smile, she was always weirdly nice to you. 

You returned a kind, small smile that you could muster. You turned on your heel and walked out of the great hall, your mind spinning and running through what the hell was happening.

Everything felt different. No, everything was different. And you knew it. 

-----

But I knew you Dancin' in your Levi's Drunk under a streetlight I, I knew you Hand under my sweatshirt Baby, kiss it better, right

You sat on your bed, thankful that your shared room was empty. You lied down and let out a sigh. What was happening with Draco, he’d been so different lately. He was normally so open with you, which was a surprise to everyone at first, especially you. But overtime you stopped wondering why he was so nice to you, you accepted it with grace and became close the Draco. You saw him differently than everyone else, you actually knew Draco. The real him. 

You remember your first of many Hogsmeade dates. 

It was spring time, the air felt clean and warm, inviting. You and Draco had just left the leaky caldron and had way too many butterbeers. 

“Watch your step here.” Draco said from behind you as you walked, stepping over a couple of fallen stones. You giggled softly, his warm breath fanned the back of your neck, causing goosebumps to fall in  it’s wake. You don’t remember why but you guys stopped for some reason, your conversation flowing with ease. There were giggles in the air and everything felt right. 

“When we get back to my common room, we need to dance.” Draco hummed, leaning against a lamppost. 

“The Draco Malfoy dances?” You teased.

“I do.” Draco said smugly, a playful grin erupted onto his lips, making your heart jump. “And I’m bloody good at it.”

“Oh yeah? Let’s see those moves Malfoy.” You laughed loudly as Draco began dancing. It was awful to say the least, his moves were sloppy from his tipsy state but it was the smile on his face and the laughs that fell from his lips that made you smile widely. 

You began dancing with him, no music, just the sounds of the two of you laughing and teasing each other.

Draco took your hand, spinning you before pulling you flush against his chest. Your breath hitched, whether it was the alcohol in your system or your underlining feelings, your cheeks darkened. 

“I’m gonna kiss you.” Draco said quietly, your eyes widened. “Not now, but soon.” You were content with that answer, despite you wanting his seemingly soft, pink lips against your own at that very moment.

Draco had kept his word, kissing you hundreds of times after that night. Each kiss and touch made you feel like you were on fire, alive. And you wouldn’t have it any other way. 

Tears pulled in the corner of your eyes as you the memories came crashing around you. You just wanted Draco to be okay again, something was definitely wrong. Your thoughts drifted to one specific memory.

You had just gotten out of detention with Umbridge. Her detentions were the worse. You had been laying in Draco’s bed, his arms around you as you cried silently. Draco accidentally brushed his fingers over the red, bleeding words on your hand, making you gasp slightly. “I’m sorry my love, I didn’t mean to.” He cooed in your ear softly. 

You offered the boy a sad smile and reassured him it wasn’t his fault. You and Draco sat in comfortable silence before he brought your injured hand to his lips. His breath fanned over the wounds, causing you to shudder. Draco eyed you carefully as he brought his lips to the wounds, kissing each letter that spelt out ‘I will obey authority.’

“Feels better already.” You laughed softly, causing Draco to smile widely. 

“In that case I’ll continue.” He grinned evilly before kissing down your neck, your eyes fluttering close as you embraced the warm feeling pulling inside your stomach. 

That Draco took care of you, making you feel good in more than one way. At the end of it all, you lied in each other’s arms again, whispering sweet nothings and basking in the scent of his sweater. 

“Y/N?” Hermione asked quietly as she looked at you, pulling you out of your thoughts. You weren’t even sure when she had entered your guys’ room.

“Sorry, what were you saying?” You offered a small smile.

----

And when I felt like I was an old cardigan Under someone's bed You put me on and said I was your favorite

You sat on the edge of the windowsill, enjoying the night view from the astronomy tower. You snuggled into your sweater. It was one of Draco’s old sweater’s. You breathed in his scent, smoky and comforting. Merlin you missed him.

Suddenly something fell behind you, causing you to jump. You stood to your feet and say Draco standing at the doorway, the moonlight highlighting his features beautifully. “Draco.” Your heart hammered against your ribcage as you tried to steady your breathing. 

“Didn’t know anyone was up here, I’ll let you be.” He turned to leave. 

Before you could even think, your feet were moving and you were flying towards him. You wrapped your arms around his backside and whined softly. “Please. Please stay. I miss you.” You feel tears falling down your cheeks, leaking into Draco’s shirt.

Draco turned and pushed you away in one swift motion. You stumbled back, looking up at him with watery eyes. 

“Merlin, Y/N.” He sighed, running a hand through his hair. 

“Draco, I miss you. So much, please. Don’t push me away, I know everything about you and-”

Draco scuffed, cutting you off. “You don’t know anything, Y/N. We went on a couple of dates and snogged a little and suddenly you think you know me?” 

Why was he being so cold? “B-But I-I...” Your throat began to sting and burn as you swallowed back tears. “But you said you cared about me? You were so sweet and you made me feel special.” You just wanted Draco to say he was sorry, and for him to tell you what was on his mind as you played with his hair. You wanted to hold him and tell him everything was gonna be okay, that you guys would get through this together. 

“Oh, bloody hell. Y/N, you would feel special if any git held open a door for you. You just want attention, affection from anyone who will give it to you. Frankly, I’m rather bored of you. You’re quite boring and needy. You’re so dense to reality it’s rid-”

“Stop!” You screamed, you didn’t care if anyone heard you. You backed up to the window and leaned against it for leverage. “You-You asshole! Why, why are you being such a dick?! I’ve done nothing but be kind and patient with you, yet you’re saying all this...” You shook your head as the tears began to fall more and more. “You don’t mean it. I know you don’t. I know how you feel about me.” 

“Oh? And how do I feel about you, Y/L/N?” Draco smirked. 

“You love me, I know you do.”

Draco laughed, but it seemed like a tired one. “Oh, that’s rich. Really is. I don’t love you. I never have and I never will, you were merely a new experience for me. And now I’m done.” You looked at him, you could practically feel your heart breaking. 

“Fuck you.” You seethed and pushed past him, running out of the room and towards your common room. Your shoes pounded loudly against the stone floor as you rand ran. When you finally reached your common room, you collapsed on one of the couches and began sobbing. The sobs racked through your body, causing you to shake and heave for air. How could someone be so cruel? So heartless? Did you even really know Draco like you thought you did? Of course you did, you told yourself. But maybe you didn’t, because that person you left in the astronomy tower wasn’t the boy you grew to love. 

At the beginning, before you had met Draco, you always felt unlovable. Like you weren’t ever good enough for anyone. It seemed that way at least, always being second or third even. Boys would always want to be with you sexually, but none of them ever seemed to want more, want to love you. 

That all changed when you met Draco, he had made you feel special. Really special. He had made your heart skip beats and made you smile more than you had ever before. He was caring, kind and warm. he was funny, and sucked at cooking. He loved to read but wouldn’t show anyone that side of him. 

Draco had opened his heart to you, and you gladly took it. Draco had made you feel like you were enough for once, you always seemed to be first in his eyes. 

But you guessed that wasn’t the truth. 

----

'Cause I knew you Steppin' on the last train Marked me like a bloodstain

You hadn’t spoken to Draco since everything. You didn’t want to, the thought of him caused your chest to rise and fall in an ungodly manner. You didn’t want to see him smile or laugh, the thought caused bile to rise intro the back of your throat. 

“Y/n.” Ron said, you turned to the red head and smiled. “Gonna miss you this summer! You sure you don’t want to join Harry and Hermione coming to the burrow? Mum won’t mind one more mouth to feed.” He cheesed. 

“My dad misses me, I promised I’d spend the whole summer with him. But I will see you next year.” You gave your best friend a tight hug. You hated lying to Ron, to any of them. But you wanted to spend this summer alone, wallowing in your heartbreak. Your dad wasn’t even gonna be home for half the summer. 

“Alright then, we’ll see you later Y/N! We’ve got to catch the first train.” Hermione said as she hugged you quickly, followed by Harry. 

You waved your best friends goodbye, leaving you alone at the train platform. Other classmates waited here and there, some getting on the next train that came. Unfortunately you were the last train of the day. 

Leaning against a wall, you read a book to past the time, occasionally glancing up to check your watch. When you looked up from your thick book, you saw him. He looked handsome as always as he stared ahead at the train coming into the station. It was the last train. 

“Shit.” You cursed, spilling your book into your carry on bag and standing to your feet. You watched as Malfoy checked his luggage, making sure he had evrything he need. He stood straight again, eyes sweeping his surrounding before you two made eye contact. You felt frozen in place, watching as Draco took his eyes off of you and walked straight onto the train. 

He had looked at you, genuinely looked at you. Your heart sank as you thought about his face, his expression. He had no sign of remorse, his eyes had nothing in them that hinted that he missed you as much as you missed him. He looked more annoyed than anything. That’s what hurt the most, he seemed to hate you now. You blinded back tears before grabbing your luggage and climbing onto the last train. 

----

I, I knew you Leavin' like a father Runnin' like water, I And when you are young, they assume you know nothing

You lied on your living room couch, flicking through the channels. You don’t know why you were so picky with what show too put on, it was just gonna be background noise anyways. That’s what it seemed like, everything was background noise now. Your thoughts were always filled with Draco’s eyes and his smile. 

Your friends all wrote you letters when you first arrived home for the summer, but you just never replied. You didn’t have the energy to. You didn’t have the energy for anything it seemed like. Your father was still away on business matters, thankfully. You knew if he saw you right now he would be worried, very worried. You looked tired, thinner than usual. You had the same bags under your eyes as Draco did. 

Merlin. Why did your stupid brain always go back to him. You sighed, rubbing your hand aimlessly over your eye lids. You were tired, but you hadn’t been able to sleep since Merlin knows when. Your dreams were plagued with happy memories and you hated it. You’d give an arm and a leg to have bloody nightmares instead.

Suddenly there was a pounding on the door. You looked over at the entry way, towards the front door. Your cat, Milo, sat on the headrest of the couch and stared at you curiously as you rose to your feet. You slowly made your way over to the door as the banging continued, now more loudly. You took a deep breath before opening the door, you genuinely didn’t know who it would be.

Ron, Harry, and Hermione stood at your front door, a smiling Dobby at their feet. Unlike the house elf, your friends did not have a smile on their faces. “Bloody hell, Y/N!” Hermione yelled as she shoved you aside, storming into your house. She turned towards you as the boys followed silently. “Are you kidding me? Where have you been? What have you been doing this whole bloody summer!” You’d never seen her so angry, she’d never gone off this bad with Ron. Dobby tugged on the sleeves of your sweater, making you tear your eyes off of your friends. 

“Dobby is sorry, Dobby only wished to help his friends find Y/N. Dobby was worried for his friend.” Your body began to shake as you heard him speak. They cared about you, all of them And you had lied to them for your own selfish reasons. You felt guilt eating away at you slowly. 

The frizzy haired girl looked down at the kitchen table, picking up a stack of unopened letters. Their unopen letters. “What the hell. You couldn’t even bother to open them.” Ron chimed in. He looked more hurt than anything. His frowned deepened as he met your eye. Harry remained silent, staring sadly at you.

“I-I..” You began to speak but the words could barely make it past your dry, chapped lips. You licked then quickly and looked down at your feet. You could feel the tears beginning to well up at the ends of your eyes. Merlin you were tired of crying.

“Is your dad home?” Hermione asked, her voice was less harsh but still firm. You shook your head as your bottom lip quivered slightly.

“When will he be returning?” Ron asked. You looked past him and at the wall behind him. You had to tell the truth, you’d already upset them.

“Another 3 weeks.” You said flatly. “I haven’t seen him since the start of summer. I’ve been here alone.” You looked at Harry, watching his eyebrows raise in shock.

“You lied to us.” Harry said, his tone dripping with disappointment.

That. That look they were all wearing on their faces, the silent words they weren’t speaking. The tension in the air. That was it. You felt something crack inside you and you gasped. Tears poured down your cheeks as you began breathing heavily. It was as if you’d had felt every possible emotion ever, but all of the negative ones. You felt loss, anger, betrayal, guilt, anxious, hungry, tired and numb. You couldn’t handle the way legs trembled as you collapsed the ground.

Harry was the first to act, scooping into his arms. Hermione came to your side and rubbed you. Ron crouched in front of you, tears in his own eyes as he watched one of his best friends break in front of him. “Y/N. What’s going on? What is happening to you?” Ron said softly.

“Just breathe, it’s okay we can talk about this after you calm down. You’re okay, we’re not cross with you. I’m sorry I yelled.” Hermione sniffled, hugging you while your in Harry’s arms.

“Yeah, we aren’t mad at you. We’ve been worried, extremely worried. That's why we’re here. We care about you.” Harry’s voice boomed behind you. Hermione and Ron nodded quickly, agreeing with the Boy Who Lived. 

After you had calmed down and were able to make coherent sentences, you told them everything. You told them why you lied, you explained what happened with Draco. You apologized over and over, begging for your friends to forgive you for being so dumb. You were so dumb for not telling them, what were you thinking? You were so caught up in your head that you completely forgot you had amazing friends who meant the world to you. 

“It’s okay, I’m sorry that happened to you. You deserve nothing but the best. Draco is far from that.” Hermione whispered softly next to you. You and the golden trio were now in your room. Hermione lied next to you, Ron on your other side as Harry sat on your floor, rubbing a purring Milo. 

“I swear I’ll bash his stupid face in when I see him. No one deserves to hear those things he said to you, especially you.” Ron said as he rubbed your arm comfortingly.

“I..I just didn’t expect him to just leave like that. So abrupt and sudden.” You sighed. Draco had left your life just as fast as he entered it. Changing everything just the same. The pain you had felt when he left was the same pain you felt whenever your father would leave for his business trips. You remembered how you wrapped yourself around his tall frame, throwing a temper tantrum because you didn’t want him to leave you. But now it was Draco who had left, and you couldn’t wrap yourself around him to make him stay. 

The rest of the night was spent cuddling and talking with your friends, and drinking pumpkin juice. You were happy that they came, truly. You didn’t want wallow in your sorrow anymore. You wanted to be free from Draco and the memories. But that was easier said than done. 

----

But I knew you'd linger like a tattoo kiss I knew you'd haunt all of my what-ifs The smell of smoke would hang around this long 'Cause I knew everything when I was young I knew I'd curse you for the longest time Chasing shadows in the grocery line

Returning back to Hogwarts wasn’t as hard as you anticipated. You’d spent the rest of your summer with the Weasley’s at the burrow. Molly was exhilarated when you showed up at her door with Ron, Hermione and Harry. The mother never failed to make you feel like you were apart of their big family. 

You’d just finished unpacking your trunks when Hermione waltzed into the room. “You’re lucky I’m letting you have the bed next to the window. I always claim it.” She hummed as she plopped down onto your bed.  You laughed loudly. 

“Well thank you, I don’t know how I could ever repay you.” You giggled, sitting next to your best friend. 

She wore a wide grin as she grabbed your hands in her down. “I know how you can repay your debt.” She began as she watched you slowly. “Please tell me if you need anything, I’m serious. If you need to cry, let me know. If you need space, let me know. Just don’t push me away again. Any of us. We all love you, Y/N. You’re our best friend and we want to help you, that’s all.” 

You smiled and threw your arms around the girl’s shoulders. “I love you, Mimi. What would I do without you.” You whipped the few stray tears that had escaped your eyes. 

“Please don’t call me ‘Mimi’! I hate that childish name.” Hermione groaned before standing up. 

You laughed as you followed your friend out of the dorms and through the common room. You made your way through the halls and towards the great hall. Harry and Ron were at your table already, chowing down. Your stomach grumbled loudly as you took in all the food before you. The welcoming feasts were always the best. 

You sat down quickly, putting some shrimp and green beans onto your plate. “They have shrimp?” Ron asked, mouth full of bread. He eyed the shrimp on your plate before slowing reaching across the table. 

“Ronald! Get your own shrimp, you thief.” You swatted his sticky fingers away from your plate. Ron smiled and scooped some of the seafood onto his own plate. Everything felt right again, you felt happy. You didn’t have to force a smile or a laugh, it was so natural. You’d missed yourself, you missed feeling like yourself. 

A smoky, sweet scent wavered passed your nose, causing you to drop your fork onto your plate. You knew that smell all too well, it was him. You turned your head towards the smell and saw his blonde hair walking towards his table. You watched as he sat down with his Slytherin friends, laughing at something one of them had said. 

You frowned, turning forward again. The familiar feeling of dread began to fill your chest once more. You didn’t want to cry, you were so tired of crying. “Y/N.” Harry said softly, reaching across the table and touching your hand gently. “You’re gonna be okay, it stops hurting eventually.” You nodded at his words, thanking him. 

And you were okay, somewhat. Somedays were harder than others, but you could feel yourself healing minute by minute. The memories didn’t help though. You couldn’t go to the astronomy tower anymore, the memories too strong to ignore. You couldn’t sit under your favorite tree by the black lake anymore, memories of eating stolen pastries and chocolates with the boy who broke your heart. Hogwarts wasn’t the same without Draco by your side. You didn’t want it that way, but for now that was your truth, your reality. 

Draco had imbedded a place in your mind, whether it was a present thought or in the back of your head; he was always there. 

----

A/N- let me know how you guys like this one:) PART TWO IS UP YAY!!!

part two- What am I now?

[reincarnated70sbaby]

star crossed

-chapter four-

*disclaimer: this work is entirely fiction, all scenes with real life people presented in this work are entirely fictitious.*

word count : 2.4k

warnings : angst! (af!) swearing ?  charlie watts being unbothered as ever, did i mention angst?

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After a couple drinks in, the conversation of recording a track started up. Jimmy was actually quite excited, a Rolling Stones and Jimmy Page track was bound to happen sometime. Sure, Jimmy had played with them in his session days, but not anything to the extent of actually being featured and credited for the track. They decided to come back tomorrow to Bill’s home studio to record a track that might feature on the upcoming Goats Head Soup album. Two nights previous, he finished up the English leg of the 72/73 tour. In a couple weeks, Led Zeppelin would be embarking on their biggest tour yet - the 73 North American tour. There was plans to record a concert film and album, and Jimmy was really hopeful everything would work out.

“Lads I’m about to fucking pass out here, I’m out, see you all tomorrow yeah?”

“All right Jim, see y’a tomorrow, not to early mate right?”

After agreeing to come in the early afternoon with Bill , he bid goodnight to the rest of crew there, Charlie and the pianist for the album, Nicky. Sure, they weren’t as wild as the Toxic Twins, but they were still good company - better than getting drunk in his hotel room alone.

Walking back to his hotel room, the walk felt much longer than 10 minutes. Even though it was the beginning of February, and therefore the start of spring, he had to wrap his arms around himself to preserve body heat.

Reaching the hotel lobby, he was met with the warm air of the large room. Red carpets and gold accents adorned the room. It was quite late in the night - or early in the morning, so he decided to skip going to the bar in hopes of picking up a partner and instead, head straight to his room. On his way into the elevator, he passed two women, both wearing sunglasses. He thought that peculiar, and even more peculiar, he thought he recognised the woman with short brunette hair. After attempting to place the woman, he concluded he was in no state of mind to try.

Laying down on his bed, his thoughts wondered to Alice. He hadn’t heard anything about her since they were last together. He wasn’t even sure if she was still in the music business. He wondered would he ever see her again. He hoped he would, but a feeling in his gut told him it would happen eventually. Sooner, or later, he thought.

Waking up slightly hungover, he showered and prepared for the day of recording ahead. It wasn’t to be a serious session, more of a jam of sorts and hopefully produce a track in the process.

Strolling casually into Bill’s recording studio, he noticed that, as per usual, everybody was there expect Mick. On second look he noticed that Mick Taylor was not there either.

“Where are the Mick’s?”

“I think Jagger is just late, but oh, theres Taylor there now!”

Just as Keith finished speaking, Mick Taylor walked in, guitar case in hand. This would be the first time Jimmy and Mick played together, and he hoped they would get on well.

“Jimmy, great to see you again, ready to play?”

“Nice to see you too, lets get down to it shall we boys?”

Mick Jagger had finally arrived, so he and Keith were working on lyrics, while Charlie and Bill were working on rhythms and riffs, leaving Jimmy and Mick Taylor to work out the main guitar melody. They worked really well together, as they both had the same blues origins and both loved incorporating it into new material.

“So who's the sound tech here anyway” Jimmy asked, while in the process of tuning his guitar down.

“Allie, she's been with us for the album, she's great, have you met her before?”

“Hmm, the name doesn't sound familiar I don't think”

“Well she had an appointment, so she’ll probably be here within the next hour” Mick commented, a shy smile coming onto his face when mentioning her.

After around half an hour of messing around, the boys were finally ready to start the recording tapes. All that stopped then was the missing sound tech.

“Good afternoon boys, I, being your guardian angel have brought lunch for all of us” Alice said cheerily, bursting through the door with a bright smile.

Jimmy’s head shot up at the sound of her voice, suddenly connecting all the dots. The feeling in his gut about meeting her, the woman in the hotel, and the ‘Allie’ nickname.

“Oh thank you Alice, forgot to mention we invited a special guest to join our entourage, last night at Bill’s after you and Taylor left” spoke Mick Jagger with his usual eloquence.

“Alice!”

“Jimmy” Alice replied curtly, a hint of sourness in her blank expression. Jimmy was now in front of Alice, greeting her.

“It’s a pleasure to see you again, its been what, nearly four years! I didn’t even know if you were still an audio tech” Jimmy said warmly, excited to see her again

“I would say it’s a pleasure to see you too, but its not, so I wont” Alice casually said, blanking him, and moving further into the room. She set the bags of fresh food on the table, in the back of the recording section of the large hall. Jimmy watched her walk away casually, totally taken off guard by her coldness. The rest of the Stones all caught this too, extremely confused, but a little entertained by their encounter.

“Wait, you guys know each other?” Keith asked, a small smirk on his lips, pointing between the two.

“I would say used to know, I was on of the engineers on Zeppelin II in 69”

“Hold on, I didn’t know you worked Zeppelin II? That means you must have been a teenager when you worked on it. Blimey” Mick, asked, all of this coming news to him, as well to the others. 

“I suppose you wouldn’t, after all I wasn’t even credited, nor my boss Tom” Alice said coolly, still not turning away from setting up the various soups and sandwiches. 

Obviously, the teenage Alice that Jimmy once knew was long gone. 

“God, Allie you look so old, what are you now? Twenty four, twenty five” Jimmy asked, sampling the new nickname, trying to break the stifling awkwardness that now infected the room.

“Still getting my age wrong I see, Jimmy. Im surprised you still know my name, after all the stunts you pulled over the last four years” Alice replied, walking directly towards Jimmy, accompanied with razor sharp glare. She now stood directly on front of him, slightly invading his personal space. She has grown taller and her face matured, loosing the slight roundness to her cheeks she once possessed. She apparently had cut off her long wavy crimson locks, in favour of a modern, dark brown bob.

“Uh, what’re you talking about?” Jimmy asked chuckling nervously as he scratched his head, hoping she wouldn’t notice his feigned innocence.

“Oh I’m sure you know, as does everyone else in this room. I don't really have the energy to continue this irrelevant conversation, or frankly, any conversation in general with you at this point. Also, it’s Alice to you” Alice stated sternly with a finger pointed to his chest. Jimmy could practically see the ice swirling in her cool blue eyes, the eyes he had come to miss over the years. He had never had encountered her true, red headed temperament. Now that he was on the receiving end, he desperately wanted to stay away from it.

“I’m not really hungry anyway, so I’ll be in the mod room if you guys need me” Alice said, directing her words to everyone but Jimmy, before leaving and entering the conjoining mod room. Mick Taylor quickly set his down his burnt orange Les Paul, then followed Alice out of the room.

“Woah, I haven’t seen drama like this since the last time Mick and Bowie had an arguement - which was last week, I think hmm” Keith remarked with a sarcastic finger on his chin, before moving to serve himself some soup.

“Actually Keef, I think this charade is a lot more entertaining than David’s and I’s little tiffs, as this is bit more of a lovers quarrel”

“Better not let Taylor hear that, or he’ll have to have a word with you Pagey” Bill commented, wide grin now on his face.

Jimmy was now the confused one. He turned to Charlie, silently asking him about Alice and Mick with the point of his finger. Charlie simply shrugged his shrugged his shoulders in response before going back to drumming a riff with the hi-hats and snare drums.

After everybody had ate or, cooled off, recording was finally underway. After a couple of takes, Alice interrupted to give some pointers.

“Look boys, I’m gonna be candid with you all. It sounds shit” Alice said into the mic. Ever since she had gotten more experience under belt, she became renowned for her no bullshit opinions. In turn, people valued her honestly and knew what she said was, more often than not, right.

“Yeah, boys let’s not sugarcoat it, we’re not exactly gelling as one” Keith commented, starting to become fed up with having to balance not only Mick Jaggers usual dramatics, but another egotistical lead guitarist in the mix.

“Okay, what do you think love?” Mick Taylor asked softly, trying to keep the peace before something erupted. He wasn’t wrong, the Stones, along with a quarter of Led Zeppelin, and a hot headed tech was a bit of a lethal cocktail. Fights often combusted quickly between the Stones and Alice, as all members were just as stubborn as each other.

“Well it sounds like there’s 5 Stones, and 25% Led Zeppelin playing. What I want, and what fans want to hear is The Stones featuring Jimmy Page. You five need to change your usual routine of recording for once and mix it up. And you” she looked to Jimmy “need to stop pretending you’re with the other boys. You both need to work with each others strengths and quit overcompensating. Stop pretending you’re something you’re not”

Everybody in the entire house probably could pick up that the last sentence was a direct jab to Jimmy. Another awkward silence passed, ultimately stemming from a staring contest between Alice and the famed guitarist.

“Oh my fucking god, kill me now” Mick muttered, pinching his nose, while Charlie just rolled his eyes and started drumming the start of the song. Eventually Keith started the riff with Mick Taylor,along with Bill and Charlie carrying the bass and percussion, and Mick Jagger singing the lyrics. Only when they reached the solo part, did Jimmy break eye contact with Alice and begin playing.

Finishing up recording, the boys all started to leave. Mick and Jimmy were the last to pack up their stuff, and an uncomfortable air fell over them. Obviously they both either had history, or were making history with Alice. Eventually Mick realised he should probably let the pair talk it out, so, as Jimmy toward the mod room door, Mick moved toward the hallway door.

“Alice, can we talk? Obviously things have become a bit strained between us, and I don’t want it to stay like this” Jimmy started softly. It was probably his choice of words that set Alice off, as immediately after his finished she whipped around from the sound board and kicked off.

“ 'Strained' Jimmy, are you serious?! Strained?! First of all, you didn’t even tell me you weren’t mixing the album with us, and then you just left after our night together. Then- don’t try to interrupt me James. Then, you barely even credit Tom for his songwriting tips on the album. You didn’t even mention me once, even whenever anyone brings up that Theremin part in ‘Whole Lotta Love’! You blush and go on to explain how it was your own fantastic brain that thought of it. The you had the audacity to diss Mystic studios in the papers! What was it you said again? Oh yeah, 'Mystic Studios was far from mystical and closer to meagre, and as a result, the workers were too.” Alice snarled, stream practically blowing out her ears.

“Okay, I agree that comment about Mystics’s capabilities was definitely wrong, I was extremely out of it in that interview- hell I even jibed Atlantic Records!” Jimmy was now getting frustrated too. Normally, no one put him in his place, or gave out to him.

“And then how cold you were about Tom!”

“Wait what happened with Tom?” Jimmy inquired, now serious.

“Oh my fucking god Jimmy” Alice shouted at him “you don’t even remember to you?” She said with a laugh. She searched his face, but all she saw was confusion in his light grey eyes.

“Tom had a fucking stroke last year. Peter told you, and don’t you dare deny it, as he told me he informed you all when I spoke to him on the phone. For Christ’s sake even Bonzo rang to see how he was doing! He didn’t even have my number, but he found it anyway! Robert and John joined the call after he finished speaking. When I asked for you, they said you were in a closet fucking a groupie!”

“Look Alice, I’m sorry, I don’t know what to sa-”

“I’m not surprised Jimmy, it’s a marvel you can play guitar at all, with having no fucking sense in your thick head”

“Stop being so fucking rude to me, you’re not perfect either! Don’t act so high and mighty! I know what went on in Geffen records! I’m mates with David Geffen” Jimmy was no shouting too. At the mention of David Geffen, Alice’s face immediately switched from red to a pale white.

“You do not know what happened between myself and David, if you did, you wouldn’t speak to him ever again” Alice spoke low and slowly, her face now white as a sheet.

Unbeknownst to the pair, all of the Stones were listening outside. When they heard Jimmy shouting about Geffen, Mick Taylor had enough and burst in. The rest of the boys tried to stop him, but he broke free.

“Jimmy, stop it. You don’t know anything about the Geffen incident. You don’t know Alice anymore. I suggest you leave her alone before I step in more. Al, let’s go, our driver is outside.” Mick stretched his hand out to Alice, her eyes now watery, trying to bite down her quivering lip.

Alice immediately joined Mick, and left without a second look to Jimmy.

Jimmy, now alone in the mod room, felt his gut twist with guilt. Had something bad happened with David Geffen and Alice? His mind wondered to Mick’s choice of words -‘incident’. He had heard rumours that were more damaging on David’s behalf, but being friendly with him, he thought he knew him better than all the tabloids and industry gossip.

Jimmy realised that both he and Alice had changed drastically in the last four years, how could he have expected everything to go back to how it was in the summer of ‘69? Now, they were even more distant than ever before.

Maybe they had missed their chance at eternity. Maybe the stars had uncrossed.

His heart nearly broke at the revelation.

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ok so chapter four !!!

I wanna write angst more often it’s my guilty pleasure

anyway, I think this is my favourite piece I’ve written 😌

navigation

star crossed masterlist

tag list : @rebel-without-a-zeppelin @princesspagey @dreamersdrowse

[liss-99]

It came on shuffle and it came to mind that Paper Rings fits well for Francesca and Michael.

“[kiss you] Three times cause you’ve waited your whole life!...I hate accidents except when we went from friends to this.”

As she was putting on her bright red lipstick that he loved so much, Francesca glanced out the window and noticed the moon was full and high. It reminded her of the night they had met. 

Michael’s friends had been high, and while she didn’t partake herself, Francesca found it entertaining. She was at a college friend’s house gathering and didn’t really know anyone there, but the group of stoned friends was being taken care of by a rather gorgeous man. He caught Francesca staring and made his way over to her, introducing himself as Michael Stirling. They talked for a few hours at the party, and when she got home, she tried to stalk him on the internet. She found all of his social media accounts and learned as much as she could about him. 

Now, she’d read every book beside his bed. 

When they got to the restaurant, the rich wine was cold to her tongue. It reminded her of the shoulder she once gave him in the street. After the party, she and Michael had become fast friends and had growing feelings for the other. Francesca had just gotten out of a relationship, so she wasn’t looking for a new boyfriend, no matter what the feelings in her heart told her. 

So, she and Michael became great friends. He would ask her out every now and then and she would turn him down, it was almost like a game between the two friends. They played cat and mouse for a month or two or three, but now, she would wake up in the night and watch him breathe, mesmerized that he was now a part of her world. 

The fact that they now shared a flat, after having known each other for only six months or so was not a surprise. Every day that Francesca had a rough day at work or got into a fight with a sibling or had any sort of stressor, when Michael got home, he’d kiss her three times. 

The first kiss, on her forehead, he’d say “Cause I know you had a long night”

The second kiss, on her cheek, he’d say “Cause it’s going to be alright”

And the third kiss, on her lips, he’d say “Cause I’ve waited my whole life for you”

And all of a sudden, Francesca would melt and would feel exuberant. She liked shiny things, but if he asked, she would marry Michael with a paper ring. He was the one she wanted and she often revered in the fact that she hated accidents except when they went from friends to this. In paper rings, in picture frames, in dirty dreams....he was the one she wanted. 

Now, after their date, in which her red lipstick wore off and the cold wine was drunk, they frolicked around the city and eventually made their way to a hotel rooftop. It was January, but when they reached the top and discovered a pool, there, at 3 am, they couldn't be stopped. In the winter, in the icy outdoor pool, after Michael jumped in first, Francesca went in too. She was with him even if it made her blue. 

The moment took her back to when they painted his brother’s walls; a bright, icy blue, acting completely and wholly domestic. She remembered thinking to herself at that moment, “without all the exes, fights, and flaws, we wouldn’t be standing here so tall.”

Francesca hated accidents. But looking at Michael glistening under the moonlight, his hair slicked back and frosted from the cool of the pool and chill in the air, she wanted nothing more than him. She wanted to drive away with him, wanted his complications too, wanted his dreary Mondays, she wanted her to wrap his arms around him, call him her baby boy.

She swam over to him and he quickly extended his arms to take her in. She butterfly kissed him and then pointedly looked right at him. The moon their only source of light, she stared into him and said what she’d been thinking all night: 

“I like shiny things, but I’d marry you with paper rings. Uh-huh, that’s right. You’re the one I want. And I hate accidents, except when we went from friends to this, uh-huh, darling, you’re the one I want,” she said softly. 

Michael kissed her passionately and lifted them out of the pool, his strength enough to walk them both out of the water. Francesca giggled wildly, never having imagined she would be on top of a hotel in a pool in the middle of winter with a handsome man she loved. 

He set her down and rifled through his coat that had been discarded, before dropping to one knee. 

“Darling, it’s not paper, and for that, I apologize. I hate accidents too, but when we went from friends to this, baby I will never hate accidents again. You’re the one I want, in paper rings or picture frames and in all my dreams. Francesca, will you marry me?”

Through tears, she said, “Absolutely!”

Yes, Michael Stirling was the greatest accident that ever happened to Francesca Bridgerton. 

Taylor Swift Bridgerton One-Shots

ugh I love this song so much and the pool scene in this fic may or may not be inspired by Miss Swift’s actual late-night pool adventure with Joe ;) <3 

[kalimagik]

How You Get The Girl

Based off of the song “How You get the Girl” by Taylor Swift 

Tom Holland x Reader 

<4K

Warning: Some cursing...but a lot of floooof - I just love happy endings, so be ready! 

A/N: Here is the second part that follows my last fic “The Moment I Knew.” I wrote these ones a while ago an wasn’t sure if I wanted to share them or let anyone else read anything until my friend convinced me to start putting them on Tumblr, so I hope you like it! It you do, like, comment, reblog, or follow. Happy reading <3 

*Not My GIF! Credits to Owner

It had been about 6 months since Y/N left her flat in London to spend some time back at her childhood home with her family. She had hoped that being around everything familiar would help her to forget the past year and a half and life she had built in London. She had gotten drunk with her friends, but that didn’t help. She would wake up startled in the middle of the night by dreams about how things used to be. They seemed so real to her. Once the holidays ended, Y/N knew she needed to go back to London before the New Year. As much as she wanted to avoid the holiday by staying at home, she needed to get back to her post in London. 

Once leaving the airport, Y/N found a car to take her to her flat. 

“Could you take the bridge?” Y/N asked the driver.

“Are you sure? That adds 20 minutes,” the driver responded.

“Yes please. I’m in earlier than expected and am not due back for a while.” 

The driver nodded his head and put the car in drive. Y/N looked out the window and with each corner the car drove by, the memories came flooding back. There was the coffee shop where she had met Tom. There was the market where they did their weekly shopping together. There was the arcade where Tom had won her a large plastic ring. There were just too many memories. Y/N snapped her head forward to look at the road ahead of her. The red light in front of her cab lasted forever, but that was fine with Y/N. 

“Is it going to be alright?” Y/N thought to herself. 

The glaring red gave her a feeling of the unknown. She didn’t know. 

-

-

“Common, Y/N! Don’t do this!” 

“TOM! I told you! I can’t just wait for the time where I will fit into your life. I need someone who makes themself as available for me as I do for them. I need someone who is committed to this relationship. Jacob and Zendaya made it for my party and they’ve been just as busy as you. I cannot take the excuses anymore,” Y/N yelled through the tears.

Tom had been in her flat for nearly two hours trying to plead his case, but it didn’t do anything to change Y/N’s mind. She pulled out the largest suitcase she had and started packing. 

“Where are you going to go?” he asked. 

“I’m going home, Tom. I need some time away from here. Can you please just give me that?” 

“When will you come back?” 

“I don’t know. I bought a one way ticket. I need to be near my family,” Y/N blurted as she threw sweaters into her bag. 

“Sweaters? It’s summer time! Are you really going to run away from this?” 

“I’m not running away! I’m finally choosing me! Can’t you understand that?” Y/N turned around to face him for the first time in nearly an hour. 

“Can I at least call you? Or come and see you?” he asked hopefully. 

I would really prefer if you didn’t. I need this time,” Y/N responded as calmly as she could. 

“Will you call me when you come back?” Tom tried again. 

“I don’t know. Good luck, Tom. Maybe I’ll see you again,” Y/N said with so much pain. 

-

- 

Y/N wiped the few stray tears from her eyes as the cab pulled up in front of her building. Seeing it for the first time in all those months just reminded her of why she had left. Nevertheless, she pulled herself together, picked up her bags, and climbed the steps to the place that had once felt like home. 

Walking inside, she turned on the old lights, the electricity flickering after having not been used for so long. 

“Hello house,” Y/N whispered as she took her place all in. 

Not a thing had moved. Zendaya asked to stop by just to bring her mail in and the pile was all that showed that someone had still lived there. Sitting down her bags in the kitchen, Y/N went through her six months of mail to see if anything caught her eye. 

“bill, bill, magazine, bill, six bank statements, magazine, invitation…” Y/N stopped as she looked at an envelope addressed to her. 

There wasn’t a return address, but Y/N easily recognized the handwriting that spelled out her name. She flipped it over, trying to decide if she wanted to open it, when she read on the back flap ‘I’m really sorry. Please just read this…’ 

She couldn’t do it though. She threw the envelope back on the table and stared at it.

*RING RING RING*

Y/N jumped as her phone went off in her purse. Finally peeling her eyes off of the letter, she went to fetch it. 

‘CALL FROM Momma’ her phone screen read. 

“Hi Mom!” Y/N answered, putting on a smile even though her mom couldn’t see it, “I just got back to my apartment, haven’t quite settled in though.” 

“That’s great to hear! I just wanted to check in and make sure you got back alright,” Y/N’s mom said excitedly through the phone.

“I did, thank you. I’ll tell you all about my trip tomorrow though, I’m feeling drained from it and just need to get myself settled.”

“I understand, honey. I’ll let you go! I loved having you home! Love you, Y/N/N.”

“Love you too, mom. I’ll talk to you tomorrow. Bye!” Y/N ended the call and let out a deep breath as she looked around again.

Before heading up to her bedroom, she sent Daya a quick text telling her that she was back in London and grabbed her bags to lug them up the steps. 

 -

-

*BZZZZ*

“Give me a minute!” Zendaya laughed as she walked away from her group at the pub to check her phone, “Oh my gosh…” Her face went straight.

“What is it?” Harry asked her as he took a sip of his beer.

“Y/N’s back in London,” Zendaya said just as surprised as everyone else at the table. 

Upon hearing the news, almost every pair of eyes went to look at Tom.

“Did you know she was coming back?” someone asked him.

“No. I haven’t heard from her in six months. I was starting to think she wouldn’t be coming back,” Tom answered slowly, “Did you know she was coming back, Zendaya?” 

“She had told me a few months ago that she was going to eventually, but never said when. I’m just as surprised as you to be hearing from her,” the actress answered honestly. 

“Should we go see her?” Harrison asked almost timidly. 

“She said she is turning in early tonight. It was a long day of traveling,” Zendaya said as she read the message a little further. 

“Tom, you okay?” Tuwaine asked as Tom sat there silently. 

“What do I do guys? I obviously still love her…” Tom finally said as he thought back on the last six months. 

He could barely think about going on dates with anyone else, so he didn’t, despite his friends urging him to. He checked her social media almost regularly and asked Zendaya constantly if she had heard from Y/N. His work was just something he went to and did every day, but he didn’t care about it. It wasn’t the same without her there. He was a complete mess until 2 months into her being gone, his mom convinced him to write a letter with everything he was feeling in it. 

He wrote down everything he wanted Y/N to know. He knew that she had asked him not to contact her, so he sent it to her flat hoping that she would read it when she was back in London. It didn’t make him feel much better because she wasn’t there, but it allowed him to continue on with everyday life even if he was still hurting. Hoping that maybe she would read it was really what kept him afloat. 

“Do you think she read my letter?” he asked no one in particular. 

“She didn’t say anything about it…” Zendaya answered, “but maybe she hasn’t gone through her mail yet. There was six months’ worth!” 

Tom could just nod his head.

“What do I do?” he said hopelessly, “Do I wait until she calls me? Do I go and see her?” 

“Let me try and talk to her and see where she is first, Tom. Don’t do anything too irrational,” Zendaya tried to talk him down. 

“Fine. But I need to hear something about her soon…” 

 -

-

Y/N tossed and turned the first night back in her bed. It wasn’t that it was uncomfortable. In fact, it was like a cloud that had been puffed just for her, but the letter sitting on her kitchen table seemed as though it was screaming. Y/N couldn’t stop thinking about it and wondering what Tom had to say to her. Maybe that he had found someone else and moved on. Maybe that he didn’t love her anymore. Maybe to say that she had been wrong about the whole thing and he could never agree with her. Every possibility went across her mind and none of them were good. 

Flipping over one more time, Y/N checked her phone. 2:30 AM. She should be sound asleep right now! Lightning flashed light through her curtains and her ears were filled with the sound of rain drops hitting her windows and the ground outside. 

Letting out a loud sigh for no one but herself, Y/N threw off the blankets and got out of bed. She quickly went down the steps, flipped on the kitchen lights, and held the letter in her hands for a second time. She looked at it for what felt like an eternity contemplating whether or not she should open it. 

Not bringing herself to do it, she carried it back up the stairs, sat it on her night table, and scrolled through social media to distract herself. She favorited some tweets and then switched to Instagram. That’s when she stumbled across a picture that Sam had posted around the time she got back. She could see the smiling faces of all the people she had met through Tom. In the middle of them was the smiling face of Tom himself. Y/N hadn’t really let herself explore the feelings she might still have for Tom. She had felt the pain for so long that she just wanted to be numb to the whole thing. This picture though, seeing him in a natural setting for the first time in months, opened the floodgates. 

Of course she still loved him. How could she not? She had spent the last six months avoiding all thoughts of him, but apparently the simplest picture brought back all of her feelings. How could she know if he had still felt the same way? It had been six months. 

That’s when, without thinking, Y/N grabbed the letter from her bedside table and used her fingers to open it up. She examined the few sheets of paper and the handwriting that was so clearly his. 

‘My Dearest Y/N it started. Reading the words brought tears to Y/N’s eyes. She wouldn’t let herself sob though. She read Tom’s sorry’s and tales of how he was such a mess without her. Y/N’s heart opened for him, but the letter dated 2 months after she had left…A lot could have changed for him in the four months that followed. But he signed it ‘With all of the love I could possibly possess, The boy whose heart is always yours’ How could anything change that much? 

*BZZZZ*

Y/N sat the letter down to look at her phone screen. It was Zendaya.

‘I see you’re active on social media at 2:30 AM. Go unlock your door. I’m coming over to see one of my best friends for the first time in MONTHS!’ the text read. 

Y/N laughed as she could hear Daya’s voice through the text. 

She quickly slid the letter back into the envelope and put it into her bedside table drawer. She pulled a sweatshirt over her head and went down the steps to unlock her door. She slid into the kitchen to put a kettle on the stove and make some tea. 

“Knock! Knock! KNOCK!” Zendaya called walking through the door.

“In here, Daya!” Y/N called as she pulled out her assortment of tea. 

“You are looking absolutely radiant!” She smiled as she popped into the kitchen. 

“I look disgusting. I didn’t even shower the plane off of me,” Y/N laughed. 

“I don’t think that matters. I haven’t seen you in six months! You look beautiful in my eyes,” she said as she wrapped Y/N in a hug, “How have you been? I’ve barely heard from you at all?” 

“I’m really sorry for that. I was living in the moment at home, ya know?” Y/N tried to explain.

“I get it. Are you doing better? Are you here to stay?” Zendaya pried. 

“I think so. I missed London. I missed my life here. I couldn’t stay away.” 

“That makes me happy to hear! London missed you too! Plus, I am so sick of being around boys all the time! The group needs you!” 

“Daya…” Y/N slowly said, pouring the water, “I don’t think I’m going to be hanging out with the group. I’m sure they don’t even want to see me…” 

“What are you talking about? I was with them when you texted me and Harrison asked if we should come see you right then!” 

“Wait…You were with them when I got back? So they know I’m here? All of them?” Y/N tested, not wanted to come right out and ask about Tom. 

“Girl! You do not have to do that with me! Just ASK ME ABOUT TOM!” 

“How is he?” Y/N asked timidly, blushing at Zendaya’s directness.

“He hasn’t been himself. You have to know this is killing him. He misses you. For fucks sake, he was asking me about you every day!” 

Y/N looked down at the mug in her hands, trying to figure out how to proceed with this subject. 

“You should just call him,” Zendaya interrupted her thoughts. 

“I can’t do that. I’ve picked up my phone a million times…” 

“It’s up to you, but he will answer,” Zendaya encouraged. 

“Thanks, Z. Can we be done with this now?” 

“Sure. Only if you tell me all about your time at home! Spill!” 

Y/N smiled as she began to catch up with her with her friend at 3 AM. 

 -

-

Three gloomy days had gone by and Tom still didn’t have any word on the girl he loved. She’d been in London for three whole days and hadn’t called him. The silence was deafening to him. He couldn’t take it any longer. He needed to do something. 

“Guys. I need to make a gesture. I have to see her.” 

Tom was breaking as he stood in front of his friends. 

“Have any of you heard from her? Haz, you grew pretty close with her. Can you give me anything?” 

“Tom. If she had reached out to me, I would have told you right away. Why would I keep that from you?” 

“I know, I know. I’m sorry, mate. I’ve just been on the fucking edge. Why hasn’t she called?” 

“I wish we knew. I really wish we did.”

As the boys contemplated what Tom should do, Zendaya finally made an appearance after three days.

“Long time, no see!” Harry joked, “Where have you been hiding?” 

“I’ve, uh, been with Y/N actually. We had a lot to catch up on…”  she responded, looking at everyone but Tom. 

“Did she say anything about me?” He asked, hope in his eyes. 

“Tom. You know that’s not my place.” 

“Please, Z! I’m going out of my mind here. I’m trying to respect what she asked of me, but I don’t think I can much longer.” 

“We did talk about you, but she wasn’t giving me much. I’m sorry.” 

“It’s okay. Thank you. Do you think I can go see her?” Tom asked. 

“It’s up to you. I don’t know. Like I said, I can’t get a read on her.” Zendaya tried to explain. 

“I’m going to see her. I need to. What should I say to her? I don’t want to come on too strong.” Tom asked. 

“Tell her how you feel. Tell her what you know she needs to hear. I think it could be romantic,” Tuwaine chimes in. 

“I’m going to do it. I’ll see you mates later. Wish me luck! Z, don’t tell her that I am coming. Got it? I can’t have her running away again.” 

“Fine, Tom. Go get her.” 

 -

-

London was rainy this time of year. It was always rain or snow and today, the rain was coming down harder than the day that Y/N had gotten back. She had finally unpacked everything from her six month excursion home and picked up the packages that she had shipped back to London. 

For the first time, Y/N was able to flop down on her couch and relax. She flipped on the TV to watch a Christmas movie (after Christmas). The sound of Anna Kendrick talking calmed her down and the sound of the rain made her eyes start to flutter as if sleep would come at any minute. 

*Knock, Knock, Knock*

Y/N was so startled that she shot right up. She wasn’t expecting anyone, so she didn’t know who it could be. 

Wrapping a blanket around her, she made her way towards the door. 

*Knock, Knock, Knock*

Whoever this was, they were not very patient. Y/N looked out the peephole, but couldn’t see anything because of the rain. She unlocked each of the locks that lined her door and opened it up to come face to face with a drenched Tom. 

“Are you insane, Tom?! You are going to catch pneumonia!” Y/N looked at him in shock.

“I need to talk to you and I will stand here until you let me,” Tom said while looking her straight in the eye. 

“Come in I guess. I can’t leave you out there.” 

Y/N opened the door enough for Tom to walk in. She had no idea what she was feeling or how she was going to be able to talk to him. 

“What is it Tom?” Y/N asked as they stood in her front hallway. 

“Please, please, just let me say this,” he asked.

“Okay,” Y/N nearly whispered as she wrapped her blanket around her tighter. 

“It’s been the longest fucking six months of my life. Back at your birthday, I was too scared. I couldn’t tell you what you wanted to hear. But love, I want you. I want every bit of you. For worse and for better. I will wait forever for you. I know that I completely broke your heart, but I will do everything I can to be the one to put it back together for you, if you haven’t done that already.” 

Y/N looked at Tom with teary eyes. She didn’t know what to say, but Tom wasn’t done yet. 

“Y/N. This is my absolute favorite picture of us. I couldn’t bring myself to change it after you left. I messed up so badly. I have not been able to forgive myself for it.” 

Y/N looked at his screen saver. The picture had been one of her favorites too. It was their first Christmas together. Tom took Y/N to see the place in London with the most beautiful Christmas lights. She had been in awe and so excited at the same time. Tom couldn’t stop holding on to her all night. One of their friends had snapped the picture of them right as Tom kissed Y/N on the cheek with his arms wrapped around her waist. It really had been a perfect night.

“Y/N?”

She snapped out of the happy memory.

“I know that there is no excuse for why I wasn’t there that night and why I didn’t even call you. I had to of lost my mind then. There is no excuse for it. I left you all alone though and I was too much of a coward to tell you why and I’m so sorry. I don’t expect you to say anything to me right now, but I’m telling you, I will wait forever for you. You are my person. I just need you to know that.” 

Tom finished his speech. He definitely hadn’t prepared at all, but that was how he felt. 

Y/N knew it must’ve been so hard for him. She couldn’t stop the tears from rolling down her face. Tom had just poured his heart out to her, but she didn’t know what to say. Was it okay for her to just go back to him? She was so confused. Her head was telling her that she couldn’t in order to avoid any kind of pain later, but her heart was a different story. Her heart wanted her to open her arms and take him right back into them. She hadn’t stopped loving him over just six months. He was all she thought about and cried about and dreamed about. 

“Okay, I know I said I didn’t expect you to say anything now, love, but could you give me some sort of sign?” 

Y/N realized that the two minutes she had sat there pondering, must’ve seemed like an eternity to Tom. 

“I’m really just trying to gather my thoughts, Tom. I knew that I’d see you again, but I honestly didn’t know what to expect or what I would do. I don’t have anything to say that is nearly as beautiful as that, but I did miss you. I missed you so much Tom…” 

Y/N finally looked up into Tom’s chocolate eyes, which were twinkling like when she first knew she loved him. Let’s be honest, she knew she couldn’t let him walk away. She still loved him. And the feelings she felt for him didn’t come around for people very often in a lifetime. 

The tears fell faster from her eyes as she tried to wipe them away. 

“Hey, hey. I didn’t mean to make you cry,” Tom looked so worried for her. He slowly inched forward, putting out a hand to wipe the tears for her. He couldn’t stop himself. That was one of the things she loved about him. 

“I love you, Tom,” Y/N finally blurted out, “I love you so much.” 

Tom smiled the biggest smile that he had made in months. His heart filled with so much joy and he couldn’t believe that he has her back as his again. 

Tom took both hands, one against her cheek with a thumb wiping the last of her tears and the other wrapped around her waist and onto the small of her back to pull her closer to him. Their lips connected, finally, after six lonely months. Tom got the girl. 

[littlx-songbxrd]

TSC song recs

Part 2

So it seems y'all enjoyed this and wanted more which I am HAPPY to obligue, thought it gets more.... theatery as I go on. Lets go!

In the embers/Sleeping at last

Jesse Blackthorn

"We live and we die, Like fireworks. Our legacies hide, In the embers. May our stories catch fire, And burn bright enough, To catch God's eye"

"May we live and die, A valorous life, May we write it all down, In cursive light, So we pray we were made, In the image of a figure eight,May we live and die"

Icarus/ Bastille

Will Herondale

"Standing on the cliff face, highest fall you'll ever grace, It scares me half to death, Look out to the future, but it tells you nothing,So take another breath"

"Icarus is flying too close to the sun, And Icarus' life, it has only just begun, This is how it feels to take a fall, Icarus is flying towards an early grave"

Two/ Sleeping at last

Jem Carstairs

"No, I don't want to talk about myself, Tell me where it hurts, I just want to build you up, build you up, 'Til you're good as new, And maybe one day I will get around to fixing myself too"

"Tell me, is something wrong?, If something's wrong, you can count on me, you know I'll take my heart clean apart if it helps yours beat"

Monster/ Imagine Dragons

James Herondale

"Ever since I could remember, Everything inside of me, Just wanted to fit in , I was never one for pretenders, Everything I tried to be, Just wouldn't settle in"

"Can I clear my conscience, If I'm different from the rest, Do I have to run and hide? I never said that I want this, This burden came to me, And it's made it's home inside"

The projectionist / Sleeping at last

Lucie Herondale

"When I was young I fell in love with story, with the eleventh hour with the blaze of glory. The theater lights dim and all goes quiet. In the darkest of rooms light shines the brightest"

"Though truth is heavier than fiction, Gravity lifts as the projectionist rolls tape. And it makes us brave again"

Line without a hook/Ricky Montgomery

Kitty

"You're a pond and I'm an ocean, Oh, all my emotions, Feel like explosions when you are around, And I've found a way to kill the sounds, oh"

"He's singing, "She's a, she's a lady, and I am just a line without a hook", Baby, I am a wreck when I'm without you, I need you here to stay, I broke all my bones that day I found you, Crying at the lake, Was it something I said to make you feel like you're a burden, oh, And if I could take it all back, I swear that I would pull you from the tide"

Dream/ Imagine Dragons

Clary Fairchild

"And I watch from a distance seventeen, And I'm short of the others dreams of being golden and on top, It's not what you painted in my head, There's so much there instead of all the colors that I saw"

"We all are living in a dream, But life ain't what it seems, Oh everything's a mess. And all these sorrows I have seen, They lead me to believe, That everything's a mess. But I wanna dream, I wanna dream, Leave me to dream"

One of the drunks/ Panic at the disco

Mathew Fairchild

"This is what it feels like when you become one of the drunks, Searching for a new high, high as the sun, uncomfortably numb, This is what it feels like when you become one of the drunks"

"Every day you're thirsty, bourbon high, Sip up 'til you're tipsy, night's young, Searching for a feeling, big fun, Dancing with the demons, Holy Spirit, Holy Spirit, Grips you like a pistol, wet the whistle, wet the whistle, abyss of ice crystals"

I'll be good/ Jaymes Young

Alastair Carstairs

"I never meant to start a fire, I never meant to make you bleed, I'll be a better man today"

"My past has tasted bitter, For years now, So I wield an iron fist, Grace is just weakness, Or so I've been told, I've been cold, I've been merciless, But the blood on my hands scares me to death, Maybe I'm waking up today"

Emperors New Clothes/ Panic at the disco

Sebastian Morgenster

"Welcome to the end of eras, Ice has melted back to life, Done my time and served my sentence, Dress me up and watch me die"

"Heroes always get remembered, But you know legends never die"

Little Miss Perfect/ Taylor Louderman

Ariadne Bridgestocks

"I was adopted when I was two, My parents spoiled me rotten, Often I ask myself, "What did I do?"To get as far as I've gotten. A pretty girl walks by my locker, My heart gives a flutter, But I don't dare utter a word, 'Cause that would be absurd behaviour, For little miss perfect"

"Deny the truth, that's easier, You're just confused, believe her, When she says there's nothing there, It's never worth it"

Starchild/ Ghost Quartet

Grace Blackthorn

"When  I  was a baby, I was blessed by a stranger, In waters  I  didn’t understand. And now  I ’m infected, With disbelief and blasphemy, I’ll never have a holy land. I am ghost, In the eyes of my god"

"And the starlight  I  see, Is a billion light years old, A ghost just like the rest of us, Nothing  I  see, Is there anymore"

First Burn/ Hamilton

Charlestairs

"Heaven forbid someone whisper, He's part of some scheme, Your enemy whispers, So you have to scream, I know about whispers".

"Don't take another step in my direction, I can't be trusted around you, Don't think you can talk your way, Into my arms, into my arms

I'm burning the letters you wrote me, You can stand over there if you want, I don't know who you are, I have so much to learn"

She/ Doddie

Arianna

"Am I allowed to look at her like that, Could it be wrong when she's just so nice to look at"

"and I'll be okay, Admiring from afar, Cause even when she's next to me, We could not be more far apart, Cause she tastes like birthday cake, and storytime, and fall, But to her I taste of nothing at all"

The astronomer/ Ghost Quartet

Christopher Lightwood

"I am the astronomer, When i look through my telescope, I am certain of the universe, I am filled with wonder from the stars, And i never saw anything, I couldn't blame on my mind, So I don't believe in ghosts"

"I'm confounded by music, And stories and laughter, Goodness and babies, Infinity and luck. I'm confused by the notion, That somebody loves me, And drugs make me crazy, And a clairvoyant told me i've got an old soul, Oh lord I wish I could sing like that, But i don't practice enough"

Part 3? Mayhaps? If anyone want to leave their recs in the comments I'd appreciate it

[sleekervae]

Young God [0.1]

Masterlist

July 2011

Her alarm didn't wake her up, but the carnivorous notions of the oncoming day did. Taylor's first show was today. Her first show in America, to be precise. The very idea that she had touched down and was in California in the first place was enough to send goosebumps rippling down her arms and her palms break out into sweats. And Taylor used the phrase 'carnivorous' in the sense that if she didn't put on a good show, she'd be eaten alive by the crowds and never be able to break out across the pond.

Steadily now, Taylor threw the blanket off her head and ran her fingers through the knots and tangles in her blue hair. Behind her was the soft down pillow, and she frowned when she saw the faint stains of black makeup in the linen. Oh, fuck me, she thought to herself. She wiped the crusties from her eyes, and as her vision came into focus she found various liquor bottles scattered across the coffee table. In a bedroom? Oh, that's right; she slept in the living room, on the pullout sofa to be specific. That was why her head was pounding... and why her clothes smelled like the inside of a dirty pub.

Taylor stood on shaky legs, frowning when she saw she was only dressed in an oversized sleep shirt and her panties. Fuck, where were her clothes, now? Taylor held her head as she wandered through the flat, cursing to herself when she suddenly stubbed her toe on the corner of the base boards.

"Oh! -- Motherfuck..."

In the kitchen she found a few more glasses randomly distributed across the countertop, some empty, others smudged with various shades of lipsticks and dirty finger prints. Taylor picked up one, in the glass a liquid that consisted of a ruby red pigment. She didn't care much for what it was, she'd brush her teeth later on. Taylor knocked back the leftover drink, vodka burning down her throat while the sour tinge of the cranberry juice it was mixed with made her lips pucker. Afterwards she went to the sink and filled the glass with cold water, then downed that as well in a single gulp.

Her weary legs took Taylor to the bathroom. The door was closed, and Taylor grumbled when she found it was locked. Inside, she could hear the echo of the shower beating against cold tile. Fucking shame, she needed to take a piss and she smelled like a mini fridge after New Years.

"I fuckin' -- good Lord, Worsnop," she raised her fist and knocked briskly against the door, knowing fully well what a whore Danny was when it came to his showers, "Danny! Hurry up! I need a whizz!" she called through her banging.

"Wait two minutes, Tay!" his usual soft, Yorkshire accent was gravely and gruff. Taylor then pictured Danny as some sort of hybrid singing werewolf because of it.

"No! Either get out or I swear to God -- I'll squat over your ferns!" she shouted. At that, the beating of water quickly ceased, and Taylor stood back with a sly smirk on her face as she heard the bathroom door unlock. It opened and out came a sopping wet Danny with water dribbling down his beard and a towel wrapped firmly around his waist. He shivered as he stepped aside for Taylor, chuckling to himself.

"You're a right prick when you're hungover, Taylor," he said, "The Geordies would be so ashamed of ya!"

"Oh yeah," Taylor sighed, "Look how broken up I am about the fucking Geordies. And clean up that mess out there; you want the people to think we're slobs?" and with that, she slammed the door in his face. Immediately, she was engulfed in the pleasant scent of men's shampoo.

Danny knocked on the door then, "Oi! Why do I gotta' clean it up? You helped make the mess!" he called.

"Yeah! But it's your flat!" Taylor called back, "And I'm your guest,"

"They don't say flats here, Tay," Danny chuckled. Taylor rolled her eyes as she heard his footsteps swish away.

"Whatever," locking the door behind her, Taylor turned to face the mirror and examined the ugly reflection of frizzy blue hair, dark circles and blackened eyelids -- a true indication that she was indeed hungover and on the cusp of a breakdown.

Well she was young, ripe at twenty years of age, and either of those fit well.

She pulled a gag face and tended to her business with the toilet. Afterwards, she ran the cold water from the alabaster sink and proceeded to splash cold water onto her face several times over, scrubbing at her skin with a wash cloth to get rid of the old makeup. Unfortunately, her taste in makeup was good quality, because all the makeup did was slide and stick to her skin.

I don't have the patience today...

Taylor squirted a bare-minimum amount of toothpaste onto her toothbrush and popped it into her mouth, shuddering when she heard a knocking at the door.

"How long ya' gonna' be?" Danny asked, "Not that I'm trying to rush you," Again, Taylor rolled her eyes and unlocked the door, to which Danny took as an invitation to enter. He couldn't help but laugh when he saw the makeup streaked over Taylor's face.

"Not funny, you wanker," she spit through the blue foam.

"I'm not laughing at you, Taylor; I'm only laughing with you," he replied simply.

"I heard that bullshit before," she spat out the fluff and started again, "What time do we gotta' be at the park?"

Danny reached past her face, opening the medicine cabinet to grab his razor and shaving cream, "Somewhere around ten-ish," he replied, "We got some time to kick around, grab a coffee. How ya' feeling?"

"Like I crawled out of a garbage can," she said.

Danny chuckled again, "Besides the hangover, love,"

Taylor spat out the rest of her toothpaste and wiped her mouth with her wrist, turning to Danny with sunken eyes, "Honestly -- I wanna' go home,"

He squirted a bare amount of shaving lotion into his hand and proceeded to smear over and around his soggy beard, "No. Why?" Danny asked.

"Because," Taylor replied, "I ain't gonna' fit in, Dan. I know I won't,"

Danny scoffed back as he switched on his razor, "Taylor, none of us fit in. That's why we go to Warped Tour -- for the weirdos," he said, "And you're the perfect weird addition to our fucked up little family,"

Taylor glowered back at him, "That was a backhanded-compliment, Dan," she stated.

"I'm sorry, Tay. But I can't be as charming when I'm hungover," he said. Taylor threw down her toothbrush and brushed passed Danny, charging into the flat to look for her bag. It wasn't in the living room and it wasn't in the bedroom, where the fuck did he put it?

"It's not just the tour, though," she said, "It's America," she threw her hands up as though to make a dramatic point.

Danny shuffled along in his large bath towel, a quarter shaven and visually following her manic movements as she scoured through his flat, "While I admit it may not be the greatest country in the world, it ain't fucking bad," he said, "They're age restrictions are a little whack,"

"You're telling me. Can't drink until you're twenty-one, fucking bollocks," Taylor huffed as she tried not to trip over the remaining bottles on the floor, "I'm just a little worked up over performing to an American crowd. I don't know how they're gonna' react to me, is all," she said.

"Babe, come on," Danny awed at her, "You was a smash in England, you'll be a right smash in America, too,"

"You're just saying that 'cause I'm your friend and you feel obligated to make me feel better," she replied, then suddenly growling out loud, "Where is my fucking stuff!?"

"In my bedroom," Danny replied oh-so-matter-of-factly. Taylor glowered at him.

"Why is it there?"

"I told you it was there, you said you'd unpack it later on,"

"That was before you got me drunk,"

"We was celebrating!" he cried, "You're big American debut!"

"American debut my skinny arse!" she charged into his bedroom without another word. Danny meanwhile snickered to himself as he shuffled to his fridge, he was suddenly feeling a tad peckish.

"Oi! Finish shaving before you go snacking!" Taylor called suddenly, "You'll look like a rabid dog," Danny's only response was a dramatic, long-winded dog howl.

Andy lit his first cigarette of the morning and leaned against the cold wall of his bus, unpleased at the rising heat that coated his pale skin in a light sheen of sweat. The blue sky still had wisps of the previous evening's indigo and the sun was burning down more intensely than he'd prepared for, which left him feeling rather stifled and uncomfortable, a stark contrast to the cool, air-conditioned environment of the bus he'd been in moments before. It was California days such as this that made him consider cutting back his long hair.

There was more time than usual to kill before the show today and Andy had hoped that everyone would partake in a drink or two whilst they threw around some new ideas, but the boys had instead wandering off for a pre-show meal before their own soundcheck. Left to his own devices, it hadn't take long until he had resorted to a shot of whisky in his coffee, then, feeling miserable, full of self-pity and not at all in the mood to write, he had wandered outside for a smoke.

He puffed his hair from his face feeling it already begin to stick to his forehead. Maybe it was time for a trim. He wondered what he'd look like if he buzzed it all off or changed his style completely. As he smoked, he considered the setlist they'd compiled, he checked his phone and scanned through his messages, he yawned several times and contemplated going back to his bunk, then he took a final drag deep into his lungs, watched it escape through his lips and disappear into thin strands of wispiness above his head before crushing the cigarette with the heel of his boot.

His boredom had gotten the best of him to the point that he decided to wander around the park to kill some time. With it being still early, vendors were still popping and setting up their tents and buses were slowly rolling into the parkade. He felt the eyes of some onlookers, either taking notice for his metal aesthetic or they recognized his long dreads and skinny physique from the posters and t-shirts that were being laid out for fans to purchase later on. Andy grinned suddenly when the familiar twang of rippling guitars ghosted through his ears and he headed towards the MainStage.

A few hours later Taylor stood to the side of the stage, feeling somewhat refreshed, though her head still clung to the smallest trace of a headache just to make her miserable. As if anything could be worse, she was still jet lagged and wanted to go back to bed. She tried to sleep it off in the van, but her tour manager, Robin, barely gave her a moments rest as she went through Taylor's schedule for the next week. Taylor was extremely grateful to have Robin as her manager -- she was the perfect composition of organized and kick-ass. But bloody hell, she was fucking persistent when it came to Taylor's scheduling. Perhaps that was why she had the job in the first place?

Danny was a fantastic showman, he held this charisma that just commanded everybody in the audience -- well, soundcheck -- to pay attention to him and his band: Asking Alexandria. Or perhaps everybody was just staring at that ridiculous fedora he had on today? When they got to soundcheck, Ben refused to let up on how ancient that hat made Danny look, as though he stepped out of a scene from The Great Gatsby.

"You said you'd love me for better or worse, Ben!" Danny cried dramatically.

"I didn't say I'd love that fucking hate, mate," Ben chided back.

Taylor loved watching the band perform, though today she found she couldn't get into their energy as much. She was too on edge, perhaps from the three cups of coffee she'd consumed before she left the flat -- sorry, apartment. She was too nervous for her own gig. Taylor looked over her shoulder at the empty field, a field which would soon be filled with cheering -- or jeering -- audiences. Taylor was new meat, one of the starting-acts, and that was daunting enough to make her stomach turn; and not just from the hangover.

She could still remember her first show back home in Gateshead; many of her friends were there, and they invited friends of friends and so on. Many loved her, others booed at her. Taylor could still hear the ridicule of one audience member who called her Joan Jett wannabe. That just made her want to work harder, prove to them that she was fantastic on her own. She wasn't trying to be the next Joan, or the next Debbie Harry, or Stevie Nicks. Taylor wanted to be the first Taylor Wray.

"This next one I'd like to dedicate to our good friend, Taylor Wray," Danny spoke into the microphone, eliciting little reaction from the stagehands and roadies who watched them. Taylor meanwhile grinned and gave Danny a little wave.

"This one's called 'I Used to Have a Best Friend, But He Gave Me An STD'," and with that, Taylor's smile vanished and she flipped her middle finger at him.

"Fuck you, Danny!" she shouted.

"Right back at ya', love!" Danny called back. With that, the band tore into the song and started jamming out.

Taylor rolled her eyes and instead pushed herself up to sit on the guard rail, tapping the heel of her leather boot in time to James' drum set. She jumped suddenly when she felt a buzz reside within the back pocket of her jeans. Her phone lit up with a text from Maxeen, the bassist of her touring band. She was just wondering what time soundcheck was.

The MainStage was within Andy's line of sight and he wandered through the grass and weeds to watch Asking's set. Watch -- and maybe heckle a bit. From the stage, Ben caught sight of his long-haired mate crossing the threshold, and he stopped mid-strum to wave him down. Lifting his head as he turned back to face his friend, Andy crosses the field, eager to watch his friends but stopped dead in his tracks when his brain caught up with his vision and he realized he wasn't the only spectator in the park.

Sat on the guardrail was a young woman, swinging her legs back and forth as her feet could just touch the second bar in her heeled ankle boots. Her vibrant, teal blue hair immediately caught Andy's attention. When she noticed Ben waving, she shifted to turn and spotted Andy coming her way. When Andy's gaze caught hers, he nearly lost his composure.

He knew it could have only lasted for seconds, that there was no way in which the consistency of time could have altered for him and his own sudden and ridiculous longing, but he could have sworn then, just for a moment, as he laid eyes on her for the first time, that everything fell deadly still around him and begged him to notice her.

And notice her he did.

Her eyes were big and round, lined in black eyeliner and glittered with green, shimmery eyeshadow that brought a warmth to her brown irises. Her jeans were ripped in the knees and the tattoos on her bare arms were on display in the oversized Abbey Road muscle tee she wore. Her thick teal curls flowed in the wind as she ran her free hand back through her locks and he noted the effort it took to detangle her fingers from the strands.

There was an abundant softness about her that made him sigh out loud, a gentle spunk that made him feel as if he'd damage her just from the intensity of his stare but she still gave off an ember of effervescent vibrance when she turned the corners of her lips up at him, his heart thudding against his ribcage just from the bravery in the way she held his gaze.

As if she could feel the way in which he thirstily drank her in, Taylor slowly looked him up and down, catching Andy off guard. He blinked once or twice, just to have something to do besides marvel at her and bit the inside of his cheek to confirm he wasn't dreaming, but now certain that she was looking at him, that her friendly smile was for him -- Andy just about melted.

[crewhonk]

Only Happy Accidents (six)

Summary: YN and Steve deal with YN’s second trimester hormones, YN goes wedding dress shopping, YN buys something for Steve, and Steve thanks her

Warnings: NSFW themes, emotional Girl Squad, Bucky is Tan France

Songs: “Fifteen”— Taylor Swift / “Flight 22” Kali Uchis / “Love Story”— Taylor Swift

Masterlist

____________________

March 11 / 18th Week

There were few things that were both the middle of something and also favourites. The middle of a dance routine, the middle of a season of construction, the middle of winter, middle school, being the middle child (YN wouldn’t know, she was an only child growing up) and so on so forth. 

However, some middle things were great— the middle of a really good sandwich, the middle of a drunk snuggle pile, the middle of the bed. 

The second trimester rocked YN’s world. The exhaustion, sore boobs, nausea were all ugly memories that both YN and Steve were over the moon to get rid of considering how gross and strong they all were. YN was now enjoying her pregnancy, having gained a few inches around her middle and enjoying the way Steve’s eyes lingered on her swollen (not tender!) boobs whenever she walked past him wearing a blouse for work. Every edge and corner on YN’s body had rounded out and it seemed as if this fat was why Steve was very keen on having both hands on her at all times. His kisses were longer and deeper and YN’s whole body ached whenever she crawled into his lap and kissed him breathless. 

The part YN would need to learn to deal with? The lack of sex in her relationship while she was in fact, very horny. All the time. 

YN decided one afternoon while she was showering for the second time that day (the basement was flooding, thanks increased blood flow) to initiate a plan to get Steve Rogers in bed with her. They hadn’t slept together since Halloween, and even if she weren’t pregnant, YN would very much love to ride that man into the sunset a month and a half into a real not-pregnant-induced relationship. So, she put to work, touching him absently on the couch during movie marathons, nipping his neck while hugging him and humming when she would suck in a breath. She would wear clothes the showed off her stomach and boobs and butt around the house— often skipping the pyjama pants for short maternity shorts under one of his shirts from the dryer. She could hear his appreciative sounds whenever he would wake up to find her in his clothes and making breakfast. 

Steve loved how needy YN had become, as well— almost too much if he were being honest. He felt like a teenage boy again whenever he saw YN trapesing around the house in one of his sweaters— blood rushing from one head to another. He found that YN could get him harder than he had ever been in his life when she got bored of the movie and crawled into his lap, a sexy little smirk on her face as her hands cupped the sides of his neck and she kissed him for hours. His hands had to stop her more than once from wiggling on him because it almost hurt to have her so close but unable to get closer. 

His greatest fear was hurting the baby— or even worse, the baby knowing what his mom and dad were doing. When he voiced this fear to Natasha one day when they were sparring, she lost all composure and roared with laughter as he tripped her. She had rolled onto her side and covered her face with her hands to hide the tears streaming down her face. 

“What’s so funny?” Steve had grumbled and through giggles she replied. 

“Weren’t you like, one of the smartest people in the army in 1940?” She breathed heavily. 

“Yeah, I guess but what does that have to do with anything?”

“Steve, my favourite life partner. Even you, in all your physical enhancements has no chance of hurting the baby. YN’s body has all of the defences that the baby needs, especially your kid. I’m not talking about fucking her through the mattress, but you can have sex with your girlfriend.” She smiled, getting up and patting his shoulder. 

She grabbed a towel and wiped her face, slicking the flyaway hairs from her ponytail back with sweat. “How far along is she?”

“Eighteen or nineteen weeks? I think she’s almost at nineteen.” He replied, taking a swig from his water bottle and her eyes widened. 

“You do know her sex drive is probably through the roof right now, right?” She stated and he choked on his water. 

“What?”

“Yeah, she’s in her second trimester, right? Then yeah— she’s horny as hell.” She shrugged and Steve shifted his weight, swallowing and thinking about his mother so his dick wouldn’t explode spontaneously. 

“I should— I should go, probably.” He mumbled, and Natasha rolled her eyes. 

“Yeah, you probably should. Can you remind YN that we have a dress-fitting tomorrow?” Natasha called after and Steve tripped over his feet when he remembered that he was, in fact, marrying the woman waiting for him at home. 

________________________

He burst through the door, roses in hand (he had barely remembered that today was Valentines Day) and called out for YN.

“Ma?” He asked and the ache between his legs was almost enough tomato his knees shake. There were no lights on, yet, so he wandered through the house and down to her room where he nudged the door open to find her sprawled on the bed. 

Unconscious. 

He chuckled and set the flowers on her bedside table. He looked down at her and cooed, running the backs of his knuckles down her cheek and leaned over to kiss her soundly on the forehead. 

“Stevie?” She mumbled sleepily and turned to him, eyes still closed. He only hummed and kissed her nose again. 

“Get some sleep, Sweetheart.” He murmured and she moaned, rolling over and letting out a small grunt before she fell asleep once more. 

Good thing she was so cute. 

_________________________

March 12th, 19 weeks

There was something wrong. Something very horribly wrong, and YN woke up feeling something in her stomach. Something was wrong, and she couldn’t breathe and she wanted to move but an impossible weight rested on her chest. She struggled to breathe, tears prickling at the corners of her eyes as the feeling went away but came back once again stronger. 

It was when it came back stronger than she was finally able to throw the blankets from her body and run from the room, hand over her stomach. She tore up the stairs to Steve’s room and didn’t bother to knock before bursting into the room and walking across it to the bed. 

She shook his shoulder and he grumbled, swatting her hand weakly. 

“Steve. Steve, wake up, please.” She half cried and his eyes opened and he rolled over to look up at her. The tears of fear in her eyes waking him up almost immediately. 

“Wassit? Baby? Baby okay? You hurting, Ma?” His voice was thick and husky with sleep and she ignored the way that her core clenched at the low baritone of his voice. This was not the time for that. 

“I don’t— there’s something wrong.” She whimpered and Steve sat up, running his arms over her shoulders and pressing the back of his hand to her forehead. She was a little clammy and she was running warm, but that aunt anything new— she had been running hot since she had gotten pregnant. 

“Are you in pain?” He asked and she shook her head. 

“No, it’s like— like flutters? But I can feel something and it’s not right.” She whimpered and took Steve’s hand, pressing it right under her navel. Steve and YN waited for the feeling to happen again and when it did, YN let out a cry. 

“What— I don’t—“ She breathed heavily and Steve looked at her with wide eyes. Neither moved until the fluttering was over and Steve began crying tears of his own. 

“What— why are you?” YN whimpered and Steve surged forward, pushing her to her back on his bed and kissed her. He peppered kisses across her face, and nose and neck through his giggles. 

“You’re so cute.” He whispered, kissing her again and she shoved him off, glowering. 

“What the hell do you think you’re doing, Rogers?” She snarled and jumped off the bed, only to be caught by Steve and pulled back on his lap. He tucked her hair behind her ear and kissed her chest bone, and nosed her collarbone. 

“Put your hand on your stomach. Right where my hand is.” He murmured and she could have slapped him. 

“I already feel it, Rogers. We need to go to Cho.” She moved to get off of him but he caught her again and grabbed her hand. 

“Baby doll, just listen to me and wait.” He whispered and she stared into his eyes and waited until the feeling came back. When it did, YN let out a cry of dear and Steve shushed her with a soothing kiss.

“He moved, YN. That’s our son kicking.” He murmured and she sucked a lungful of air in. 

“She’s moving? Already?” YN whispered and he nodded. 

“Ms. Tyler said that we could expect the baby to move in another few weeks, but I do apparently have super sperm so—“ He shrugged and YN laughed, throwing her head back and then kissing him. Her tongue swiped his lip teasingly and he squeezed her hips happily. She pulled away before he could roll them over and wiped her face. 

“God. Okay. I’m— I’m sorry for waking you up, I was just really scared.” She said, looking rather guilty. 

“I’m your boyfriend. Fiancee, technically, but I’m your person. You come to me when you’re scared and I’ll protect you from the world, okay?” He whispered and she smiled softly, swiping her thumb over his bottom lip and chin softly before moving to climb off of him. 

“I’ll go back to bed then. I’ll text Cho and tell her we’ll drop by when you drop me off for the fitting tomorrow, though.” She said, rubbing her stomach and smiling to herself softly. She stood and turned to walk before Steve gathered his courage and grabbed her hand, pulling her back slightly. She turned with a smile and a raised eyebrow. 

“You okay, Hot Shot?” YN asked and he clenched his jaw nervously. 

“I— you don’t have to go, you know. You can stay the night… here, with me.” He muttered and she felt her face heat up. 

“Really?”

“Really.” He replied, and almost did a small victory dance when she nervously shifted her feet before crawling over him and pulling the blankets back, settling into his mattress and sighing. 

“Your bed is much comfier than mine, you know.” She whispered and he laughed, pulling her so that her back was to him. He curled into her back and nosed at her neck, inhaling the scent of her shampoo and almost melting into the sheets. His strong arm wrapped around her middle and he rested his hand on her stomach, smiling to himself whenever he felt his son jump against his fingers. His slid his thigh between hers and she sighed, wiggling back into him and pulling his other arm to act as a pillow under her head. 

“You don’t have to sleep in the other room, you know. We are dating-engaged-almost-parents.” He murmured and she giggled. 

“How did we even get int his whole situation, huh?” She chuckled and he squeezed her lightly. 

“We like each other and just so happened to forget to use protection.”

“Ah, yes. Halloween— the ultimate aphrodisiac.”

“It was the thigh highs, honestly.”

“Goodnight, Steven.”

“Night, Ma.”

_________________________

March 13th, Week 19

YN was warm. So, pleasantly warm and she never wanted to leave the cocoon she had found herself in. The pillows were soft, and the mattress was the perfect balance between hard and soft and the huge, muscly man pressed to her back made her feel like she could hide from the world for the rest of her life. 

His hot breath washed over the back of her neck and she wiggled in closer to him, willing herself to stay in this moment for a few more hours. 

Until she felt it. 

Steve was fully pressed into her, his morning wood sandwiched snugly between his lower stomach and the small of YN’s back. When YN tried to wiggle her way out, Steve only let out a husky moan and pulled her closer. 

“Stevie.” She tried, tapping his arm. He grunted and nuzzled into her hair, falling still once more. She stared out the window in front of her and sighed, trying to ignore the raging hormones that made her only think about the dick pressed against her and tried to roll away, only to be snatched right back by the still-sleeping Steve. He let out a moan and flexed his hips, rubbing himself against her and she squeaked, the heat between her legs making everything harder. 

Especially the fact that his thigh was pressed right against her vagina. 

His hips rut up again and his thigh pressed harder against her and she let out a small moan, shifting back against him and whimpering when he thrust again. 

Fuck. 

“Steve, baby, wake up.” She whispered, voice strained. She felt his lips press to the back of her neck before he pressed himself harder.

“I’ve been awake for a few minutes, now, Ma.” He husked and she moaned, hand circling back and cupping the back of his neck. He leaned up and nipped her neck, humping his hips again and growling when she bit her lip. 

“Stevie—“ she whimpered and his hand drifted down, scratching her bare thigh and making her shiver. 

“Shh, baby.” He hushed and she flexed her hips against this thigh, making him hum appreciatively. She glanced at the clock on the bedside table and groaned, scratching his scalp again. 

“As much as I fucking love what you’re doing right now, we have to go and see Cho.” She whispered and he groaned, squeezing her tighter and biting her shoulder. 

“We have an hour, and it was just the baby moving, he’s fine.” He grumbled and pulled her closer to him, making him groan when his dick rubbed against her. 

“It takes ten minutes for us to get ready and forty minutes to get to the compound, not including traffic. Plus,” She started, turning around in the bed to face him. She had to swallow her resolve when she looked at him however, because his hair was messy and his cheeks were flushed and his pupils were blown out. “The things I wanna do to you is gonna take much more than an hour to do.” She murmured and his mouth popped open in shock. 

“Yeah?” His voice cracked and she smirked, letting her hand drift down his side and trace the band of his briefs. He shuddered under her touch and she hummed. 

“Mhmm. Plus, the boutique Nat’s taking us to is just down the road from a pretty expensive maternity store who has an upstairs specifically for lingerie.” She murmured, kissing him lightly and nipping his bottom lip. He moaned into her mouth and clutched her sides. 

“Now I definitely need you.” He choked and she giggled, rolling on top of him and straddling his hips, subtly grinding on his length as she leaned down. 

“Plus, you’d have to face Natasha’s wrath if I was late today.” She nipped the tip of his nose and got off of him, rolling off the bed and prancing to his door.

“What am I supposed to do with this, then!” He called after her and he could hear her laugh loudly. Steve ached as he watched her look back and wink at him as if she had done nothing wrong at all.

“I’m sure you could figure something out!”

______________________

The appointment was smooth— all was well. Baby was healthy and when Dr. Cho asked if they wanted to find out the sex of the baby both Steve and YN adamantly denied. Instead Cho, a smirk on her face, adjusted the ultrasound machine so they wouldn’t be able to make out any shapes or lack thereof and handed the pictures to a glowing YN and Steve.

“He looks like a little alien,” Steve mumbled, looking at the squished face fo the 3D picture. YN looked over at it as they walked down the hall to the common room and snorted. The baby looked rather piggish at the moment, but it was the most beautiful thing that she had ever seen. 

“She has your nose,” YN mumbled and Steve sucked in a nervous breath and let it out shakily. 

“He has your chin.” He whispered back and took the pictures YN was holding, slipping them in the inside pocket of his spring jacket and placing the same hand low not he small of her back. His constant, hovering presence was just a tasty promise of what YN knew would be taking place later that night. 

“You’re late,” Natasha said from her perch in the corner of the couch and Steve snorted. 

“Hardly— and it’s not our fault. Kid didn’t want to hide his junk from Cho.” Steve joked, laughing when YN socked him in the arm hard enough for him to flinch. Another thing from being knocked up by a super soldier— she got some of his powers as well. 

“She was taking a little long to get comfortable is all.” YN glared, a smirk on her face as Steve pouted and rubbed his shoulder. 

“All the same,” Natasha waved them off and looked up from the notebook in her hands. There was a find smile on her face as she listened to the interaction and it only grew when she saw just how both YN and Steve were looking at each other. “The rest of the girls are headed over to the bridal shop, we’re just waiting for James and then we’ll go.”

YN’s heart dropped to her stomach at the thought of Bucky being at her dress fittings. Sure, they had become less cold towards each other following their first interaction, but the constant desire to impress him and seek his approval set YN’s nerves on edge. 

“Bucky’s coming?” YN asked, picking the dirt from her nails and looking nervously from Natasha to Steve. Natasha only smiled patiently and Steve kissed her temple. 

“He has the second-best style out of the team, actually. Sam would be coming today too, but I think he’s in Thailand at the moment.” Natasha replied, walking over. She placed her hand on YN’s arm and squeezed comfortingly. 

“He does like you, YN. We’ve talked about it— it’s just a matter of him opening up.” She whispered and YN let out a breath she didn’t know she was holding. “Speak of the devil and he shall appear.” She smirked, looking over YN’s shoulder. 

Bucky had entered and yeah, okay. The guy had style. His form-fitting black jeans hugged all the right spots and the grey t-shirt he was wearing was tucked in in the front and covered by the warmth of a black bomber jacket. It was simple, but he oozed confidence which made YN feel slightly more comforted. His hair was tied into a neat bun at the nape of his neck and two carefully controlled pieces framed his face. 

Natasha wasted no time in peeling Steve away from YN’s side and pulling the pregnant woman over to her boyfriend. 

It seemed some of Natasha’s words were true. Bucky was looking at her with a little more warmth than he previously had, and his body language was more open to her than it was even on New Years Eve. 

“Hi. Thank you for coming today.” YN smiled politely and he returned the shy smile and nodded. 

“Anything to help the party— I’m happy to do what I can for family.” He said, voice impossibly soft and YN coughed around the sudden lump in her throat. Steve walked towards his best friend, moving slow enough for Bucky to say no, but quick enough to show Bucky how much his warmth meant and wrapped his arms around his shoulders. Steve pat his hand against Bucky’s back in the way that men do, and even YN could hear the emotional whisper of ‘thank you’ uttered. 

“Shall we find you a dress, Mrs. Rogers?” Natasha smirked and watched in delight as both YN and Steve whipped their heads to each other and flushed equal shades of deep red. Before either could jump the other, Natasha wrapped her arm through YN’s and pulled her from the room. 

“We’ll return her later tonight, Steve!” Natasha beamed and Bucky rolled his eyes fondly at his girl. 

“I’ll make sure she's in one piece, Steve.” He reassured and Steve pulled Bucky into a quick embrace once more. 

“Thank you, Buck. You don’t know how much this means to us.” He murmured and Bucky shrugged. 

“She’s growing on me.” He stated. “At least someone can get you to stop your impulse decisions— takes a hell of a person to do that. Maybe I should ask for pointers.” Steve scoffed, shooing Bucky towards the doors. 

“Make sure my girl doesn’t drown in taffeta, please,” Steve asked and just as Bucky was about to turn around once more, Steve grabbed his arm with a coy smile on his face. “I’ll make sure Nat doesn’t burn down every boutique I drag her out in a few months in return.”

“Shut up, Punk.”

“Not a chance, Jerk.”

_________________________

The wedding boutique was something that reminded YN of heaven. Soft, white fabrics hung from racks that lined the walls and warm brown woods framed the tall ceiling. There was a sign welcoming the ‘Mrs. Rogers’ wedding party on a table which was full of champagne and orange juice and gourmet desserts. The worker was gorgeous and young and she welcomed all of YN and her party with a smile and a firm handshake. 

Bucky and Natasha watched carefully as YN squealed and rushed to Michaela who was waiting already with YN’s mother who looked like she had already been crying. 

“Mich!” YN squealed, rushing over and wrapping her arms tightly around her friend. “I’m sorry I haven’t been around— everything has been so freaking busy and—“ She was shushed by her friends stern look. 

“Hey, we still text like we usually do and we still call once a week. It’s okay. You’re life is crazy and I’m still not going anywhere.” Michaela smiled and YN wrapped her arms around her, mumbling a quick thank you and turning to her mom. 

YN’s mom was a short woman, stout but with an effortlessly kind and warm smile. She smiled and cupped YN’s face, eyes trailing over her face and down her body, eyes fixating on the bump. She smiled softly, and kissed YN’s cheek. 

“I’m so happy for you, my girl.” She smiled and YN ducked her head, frowning. 

“I have to apologize. I know I haven’t been around much since dad, and I should have been there for you more. I hope you can forgive me.” YN whispered and YN’s mom cooed at her daughter, a sad smile on her face. 

“I was never mad at you, Baby. You’ll know soon enough that you forgive your kid the second they do something wrong.” YN’s mom gave her a soft smile and YN let out a choked sob as she fell to her moms shoulder, arms holding her close. 

“I love you, mama.” She cried and YN’s mom shushed her, petting her hair and closing her eyes. 

“I love you, Baby.” 

Natasha, Bucky and Michaela had busied themselves with the snack table as YN and her mother reunited, and Bucky’s chest burned with the curiosity of the things he had just learned. Why had YN pulled away from her mom? What happened to her father?

YN sniffed and stood to her full height, wiping her face and turning around to her friends. 

“Okay, let’s get a move on and start crying for good reasons. I made a promise to my fiancee which I very much intend to keep.” YN smiled and Micheala snorted, catching Natasha’s eyes who understood quickly what the promise may have held. “Can you guys pick some dresses for me?”

The team dispersed, finding themselves in corners of the room and sifting through dresses which melded into the other. YN rubbed her tummy as she wandered around, looking at fabrics and touching the ones that caught her eye. She pulled the ones with the most welcoming texture and handed them off to the clerk who was following her, with an eager smile. 

After a particularly sharp kick from baby, YN grunted and looked down at her swollen tummy. 

“Hey, Kid. Chill out, yeah? Mom has to pick out a pretty dress for your daddy and their wedding day. Then, we can go home and hang out, okay? I think I’ll be able to send a text to Dad and ask if he can get some of that really spicy chilli you like so much. Maybe the one with the seafood? You’d like that, wouldn’t you.” YN rambled, rubbing her tummy and humming with relief when baby started to calm down at the sound of moms voice. Bucky was on the other side of the rack, listening in and smiling softly to himself as she continued to ramble. She was talking about the weather now, and went on a tangent about showing baby off by wearing sundresses and overalls and rompers. 

“You’re smiling like a crazy person, you know.” Natasha sidled up to him, a dress over her arm and nudging him. 

“She’s growing on me. I think she’s been talking about the weather for five minutes.” He chuckled, running his fingers over a dress with a deep v-cut with stars patterned on it. He pulled it out and looked at the princess skirt and nodded to himself, pulling it and throwing it over his arm. He turned to look down at his tiny girlfriend and kissed her forehead. The rush of the idea of Natasha in white just for him almost made him dizzy and he grabbed her chin, kissing her soundly. 

“What was that for?” Natasha smiled, breathless. He loved how he could get her like this— he was the only one besides Steve who got to see her for her vulnerable self and he was completely head over heels with that notion. 

“Just because.” He shrugged, the flat box in his inside jacket pocket feeling hot and heavier than ever. He carried it everywhere with him, just waiting for the proper moment. She let herself blush and smirk, looking down as she turned away and walking to the change room with a slight barely-there skip in her step. 

On the other side of the railing, YN finally turned back to the change room, letting the clerk in with her and undressing. She pulled don the first dress— a simple maternity mermaid dress. The stomach was stretchy, but formfitting and was more comfortable than YN could have imagined. It was rather plain, however, and YN found herself disenchanted with it. 

The reactions o it was a solid 6/10— the hype of the first wedding dress main up five of those points. YN was sent back quickly under the guise fo ‘we can do better’. 

The next few dresses were magical, and Michaela preened when it was her dress which garnered the first veil try on. 

The dress was a simple, soft fabric floaty thing— it made YN look as if there was a constant, flattering breeze and it accented all the best parts of her. The sleeves were comfortable and the low back was gorgeous. The only problem that YN could find was the fact that she would have to wear a maternity bra to prevent her from leaking all over the dress. 

“It was close though, babe.” YN smiled and winked. 

Natasha’s dress was a short one— an a-line skirt that brushed to YN’s mid-calf and YN was almost fully enchanted with it. It was reminiscent of the classic 1940’s style and YN thought Steve would drop dead if he saw her in something like this. 

“Maybe for the reception?” Her mother asked, wiping the corners fo her eyes. 

“I don’t think I want to have to have a dress which isn’t good for both, you know?” YN asked, and everyone nodded. YN was slowly getting more tired, but also incredibly restless, thinking about Steve waiting for her at home. It had been a few hours since she had last seen her guy and YN wanted no more of it. Thankfully, there was one dress left— Bucky’s. 

The dress was gorgeous. It was a layered, soft skirt— the dress looked like something out of a fairy tale or a Taylor Swift music video. The dress had a high waistline which could be adjusted to accommodate YN’s future eight-month bump she would have for their wedding in June. The top was beautiful— there were already maternity cups sewn into the fabric which allowed her to not have to worry about the bra situation or the deep v-line which only accentuated the curves of her boobs and the scooping back which showed off the perfect amount of skin (which Steve would love). The sleeves were transparent but long, and everything was easy to dance in and move around in. The selling point, however, was the subtle white pattern of stars under the top layer of fabric. It was a barely-there detail, but when YN looked in the mirror and saw all the details that worked so well together, she burst into tears. 

She collected herself enough to be able to see, and walked out, the clerk holding the slight trail as she walked out into the main room. 

The reaction was immediate— both Michaela and YN’s mom started crying immediately, and Natasha covered her mouth, a smile stretching over her face as she looked at her best friends fiancee stare at herself in the mirror. Bucky, however, remained without reaction. This was his dress, and this was his best friends soulmate and this was everything he had wanted for Steve since kindergarten. His body was numb and his hands were on fire and his heart was beating rapidly in his chest. 

“I think this is a good veil one, I think.” The clerk smiled, grabbing one and bringing it over to YN. Before the worker could pin it to YN’s hair, Bucky shot up. 

“May I?” He murmured, and the clerk nodded and handed it to him, backing off immediately— he couldn’t even care if it was for fear because this was such a huge moment. He took the clip and slid it into YN’s hair, fluffing it out and peeking over her shoulder to look at her in the mirror. 

Perfect. He walked around the podium she stood on, coming to face her and looked up at her. She looked down at him with tears in her eyes and a smile on her face. She wrung her hands nervously until Bucky took them in his own. 

“YN YLN.” He started, voice low. “I am happy that you’re marrying my best friend. I’m sorry I’ve been less than kind to you, but seeing you together, and seeing how much you love this baby and how much you fit in with everyone is really, really making you grow on me. I’m so happy I’m going to be able to call you my sister-in-law soon.” He smiled and YN, without thinking, pulled him into a tight hug. 

“Thank you,” She sobbed softly, and she could vaguely hear everyone behind them reacting the same— even Natasha had let out a loud gasp. “You don’t understand how much this means to me, James.” 

Bucky returned her hug slowly and kissed her temple briefly. 

“Welcome to the family, kid.” He smiled, and she wiped her eyes, turning around tot he wedding party, still holding onto Bucky’s hand and smiling. 

“I think I’ve found my dress.” She smiled, squeezing Bucky’s hand and laughing as everyone shot from their seats and crowded around her, showering her with hugs and kisses and happy. 

_______________________________

TAG LIST CLOSED: yesfanficsaremylife / notyourtypicalrose /  laurxn-robinson / disaster-rose / lille-kattunge / wwecrazed2010 / vxidnik / chewingoffmyfoot / vitamingrant / captainamericasbeard / chrisgalore / songforhema / mmyepic / multifandommandy / tommyhoe / lostdarksoul6 / crist1216 / taeeemin / jaqui-has-a-conspiracy-theory / feelmyroarrrr / teller258316 / mrsdeanwinchester19 / qrangr / mariswritingforfun / nerdypinupcrystal / kittycatlover18 laucontrerasv / printedpeterparker / @dumblani  / @captainomad

[that-70s-page]

Paper Rings

Pairing: Roger Taylor x Reader

Summary: You are worried about not being enough for Roger now that Queen has become successful, so he shows you how much you mean to him. 

Warnings: Angst, fluff, light language, brief mentions of alcohol

Words: ~4k

A/N: I wrote this in dedication to my younger sister, who absolutely loves Taylor Swift. She’s forced me to listen to Lover, so her new song paper rings inspired me to write some good hearty FLUFF.

p.s. this turned out waaay more angsty than I expected :p

You lay on your rug tapping your fingers against your thigh, eyes searching aimlessly about your room. You reach a hand up, disrupting the rays of dust that seem to float only in the sunbeams that streak the air in front of you.

You know that the dust fills your entire room, but in that moment you are a child again, and the dust is a living entity, floating down and swimming through the air in purposeful patterns. The small particles only exist where the sun paints beams through your room, disappearing along with the warm rays.

You are lost in thought when your eyes reach your desk, lingering on the small framed photo that balances crookedly on the edge next to the glass of wine that you had let grow stale.

You both look so happy and young in that picture. When had that changed?

Roger’s hair is longer and curlier, but he still has that cocky, rock star smile even when back then he was selling clothes with Freddie at a stall in Kensington market.

When had you gone from being broke and hungry all the time, but happy just to be alive and together, to being comfortable adults, but feeling like something was missing?

It wasn't that you were unhappy.

You loved Roger, and you knew that he loved you just as much, but lately things just felt different.

Queen had become very popular, and Roger was spending more and more time with the band, recording, touring, and partying. You loved to watch him perform, but it was difficult for you to understand the appeal of the rockstar life. He often came home late, drunk, or too exhausted to spend much time alone with you.

You knew that it was everything Roger had ever wanted; the fame, the fortune, it was what he had been craving since before you had even met him.

But when you two had met, he had not yet gotten a taste of having real money and being a popular musician, and you were enough for him.

Now it sometimes felt like you were drifting, waiting for the day that he realized he could do better; numbing yourself in anticipation. Distancing yourself to somehow cushion the fall.

Even if he loves me, it doesn't mean he won't leave me.

Those were the recurring words that floated through your head as you lay on your back staring at the photo your friend had taken when you had first started dating Roger.

You had met him at a college party that your friends had hosted in your building. You had gone outside to find some peace and quiet, but hadn't gotten very far. Someone had fallen into the pool in your yard, and his friends were drunkenly trying to help him get out. He was fully clothed and absolutely hammered, so his weak attempts at paddling himself to the stairs made it look as if he had never learned to swim. His companions weren't having much luck in aiding him either, and the soaking, drunk blond was trying so desperately to get out of the water that he pulled his tall, poodle-haired friend into the pool. You had first laughed at the inanity of the boys, but had soon noticed that while the tall brunette had successfully escaped the icy cold pool, the blond was struggling to keep his head above water, his sodden clothing pulling him down. Upon noticing, you had immediately rushed to the shallow part at the stairs to help him, the lifeguard training you had done in your teens at the local pool still drilled into your brain. His two friends watched you with a mixture of hilarity and concern, the soaking wet poodle of a man shivering beside the shorter brunette. The blond was wet and embarrassed, but surprisingly uninjured. Even more surprisingly, he was incredibly attractive and charming, even in his soaking, drunken state. You helped the boys dry off and invited them inside, and had quickly grown to be close friends.

And the rest is history, right?

Strangers to friends, friends to lovers, but what was left for you?

The only thing past marriage was kids, possibly grandkids, and then death.

You scold yourself for sounding so nonsensical, and remind yourself that there was plenty in between, that it was the little things in life that made it all worth it, like waking up in the middle of the night and just watching him breathe, or the way he would always confide in you about his songs before showing them to Brian or Freddie. Hell, you hadn't even gotten a steady job yet, and Queen had years of success ahead of it.

But what if he gets bored?

His new lifestyle will surely introduce him to new, better things. New music, new places, new people. 

Better people. 

Plus, there will be plenty of groupies and fans that will throw themselves at him, despite his relationship or marital status.

Maybe if you were engaged, things would feel more secure.

But you don't want to force it, and you can't tell if marriage is something Roger even wants.

Sure, the two of you had talked about it, and you had certainly hinted at wanting a proposal, but Roger had been oblivious, and was away on tour so much that a wedding just seemed impractical.

Maybe you should be the one to propose. Or the two of you could elope, like Deaky and Veronica.

But in your heart you knew you had always secretly wanted a cliche, romantic proposal, and a beautiful wedding with all of your friends and family.

But what does Roger want?

You know he is secretly a romantic, after having dated him for two years, but you also know that he is easily distracted and has a difficult time settling down. He may love you, but he also may not want to spend the rest of his life with you.

You feel something sting your eyes and slide down your cheek, and you blink at the realization that you had started crying. Your chest has become tight, and your throat aches with the effort of holding back the fat, salty tears that have finally breached from your eyes. 

You take a heavy breath, willing yourself to calm down, but thinking about Roger has worked your nerves up to feverish hysteria, and you can feel yourself being pulled into the suffocatingly tight grip of an anxiety attack.

Just as you begin to feel lightheaded from your unsteady breathing, you hear the front door open and footsteps trip into the kitchen.

Roger’s home early, you observe, trying to compose yourself with deep, even breaths before he notices and questions you about your tears.

Thinking about your future is scary, but actually voicing your fears aloud to the love of your life is bloody terrifying.

His rasping voice calls for you from the kitchen, hoarse from a long day of rehearsing the set. You try to call back, but his name is replaced with a desperate wheeze as you feel yourself being drawn back into your anxiety, tendrils of worry wrapping around your throat and choking you, stealing away your voice.

When he doesn't hear you answer, Roger goes to your bedroom and opens the door quietly, expecting to find you napping or engrossed in a book. Instead, he finds you sitting on the floor with tears streaking your face, puffy and red from your crying.

You gaze up at him tearfully, frustrated with yourself for allowing him to walk in on you like this. But when you see the look of worry and overwhelming love in his eyes as he rushes to sit beside you, you can’t hold back your sobs any longer.

He pulls you in closer to him as you bury your head in his neck, sprinkling his t-shirt with your tears. You take heaving breaths as he slowly rubs along your back, trying desperately to release the pressure on your lungs.

After a few moments of listening to your silent sobs, Roger pulls away to gaze at your face, all of his love and compassion for you eminent on his features. He cradles your cheek in one of his callused hands and blinks slowly at you, his mouth pursed slightly in worry. You gasp for air between each sob, leaning your face into his warm palm and closing your eyes against his skin. He gently traces his thumb over your eyelids and lips, and then moves his hand to wipe away your tears.

“What’s wrong, love?”

You open your eyes and shake your head slightly, sniffling and blinking rapidly to clear away your tears.

“Talk to me, Y/N. What’s going on?” he whispers, his eyes showing such tenderness and emotion that you feel your heart swell in your chest despite your overwhelming anxiety.

“N-nothing Rog, it’s nothing, I’m just feeling *hic* r-really anxious and shitty right now. I’m sorry you had to *hic* come home to this, I’m a right mess, please don't let me ruin your day,” you plead through your onslaught of tears, looking up at him through clumped, wet eyelashes.

His eyes widen slightly and he grabs for your hands, holding each tightly in his own and leaning in, lips parted in a half frown.

“Oh love, please don’t apologize, I wouldn't want to come home to anything else. I mean- besides a relaxed, happy Y/N of course, but you could never ruin my day, you're the reason I look forward to coming home from the studio, I love every bit of you, alright?”

You nod, but don't meet his eyes. His words just make you more anxious, feeding your fears that he doesn’t mean it anymore, as if he was trying to convince not only you but himself that he loves you.

“Now tell me what’s got you anxious, I don't fancy coming home to see my girlfriend crying on the floor and not knowing what’s wrong, ” he speaks softly but fervently, still holding your hands as if they are the only things keeping you there with him.

“I know, I’m sorry, I just feel like- sometimes it seems like you’re never here anymore, even when you are. I know that sounds awful, but I just can’t help but think that it has something to do with me,” you flit your glassy eyes from his face to the floor, feeling exposed and guilty.

“Oh darling, it has absolutely nothing to do with you, please don't get it into your head that anything is your fault. I’m sorry if I haven’t been around as much lately, the band takes up so much of my time,” he looks genuinely upset with himself, and you feel even more guilty for making your troubles seem like they are his fault.

“I know you’re busy with the band, and I’m so glad that you are finally achieving what you deserve, I’m just worried- I’m so scared that- that-” you break off, both from the fear that accompanies telling Roger that you’re scared he’ll leave you, and from the renewal of tears that burn your eyes at hearing yourself out loud.

“What is it, love? Please let me help, you’re scaring me darling,” he breathes, trying desperately to make you meet his eyes again. 

“I can’t, Rog, I can’t- you’ll hate me, you’ll wish you never came home. I can’t tell you, because I don’t want to ruin everything with my stupid insecurities!” you sob, disgusted with yourself for breaking down again and for making Roger feel responsible.

As he stares at your shaking, crying frame, he feels his heart break a little, cursing himself for being so completely helpless when it came to calming you.

“Love, look at me, please look at me- I don’t know what you’re talking about- Y/N, I could never hate you, no matter what you do or say. God, I love you so much, just- let me fix this, tell me what’s wrong, I can’t help you unless you tell me,” he stumbles on his words, the unfamiliar feeling of tears pricking his eyes as he watches you fall apart in front of him.

He stops his rambling when he feels your arms wrap tightly around his torso and pull yourself closer to him, tangling your shaky hands in the fabric of his shirt.

“I love you, I love you so much Rogie, God I love you, please don't ever leave me, I don't think I could bear it. I love you- so, so, so much,” you sob into him, feeling his heartbeat increase beneath your cheek that is pressed against the bare skin of his chest.

Roger’s entire body tenses around you and he stutters frantically, “I-I love you too darling, what on Earth would ever make you think I’d leave? I could never, not when my entire future depends on you. Please believe me when I tell you that I plan on spending the rest of my life with you... I love you so much, angel. Christ, sometimes it hurts, you know? You’re my everything, and right now my everything is worrying me. Please show me what I can do.”

You couldn’t answer him if you tried, your breath coming in short gasps, body stiff and tired from fighting to get air to your lungs for so long. All you can do is finally meet his gaze, and when you do you notice that there are tears in the corners of his eyes. You stop breathing altogether at the sight of Roger crying, and he notices with a frightened expression. 

“Y/N, you’ve got to breathe love. Come here, take deep breaths with me,” he shifts your trembling body in his lap and presses his chest against yours to show your lungs how to properly take in the air, counting to four in between each intake of breath, lungs exaggerating each pump.

You fight to stay focused on his steady heartbeat and the movement of his chest beneath yours, your mind running desperately to escape from the dark, fuzzy feeling of not getting enough oxygen. 

“That’s right, love, you’re doing so good. Just keep breathing, I’ve got you. You’re ok, I’ve got you.”

You feel Roger’s hand rubbing smooth circles into your back, and you divert your attention from his breathing for a moment to focus on the gentle massage, muscles relaxing underneath his warm palms. He pauses when he notices your breathing almost return to normal, and you lift your head from his shoulder to gaze into his shining blue eyes. He stares back, all the confusion and fear gone from his eyes and replaced with a look of admiration.

“You don’t have to say anything if you don’t want to, darling. Just tell me when you’re ready, I’ll be here for you,” he whispers, brushing the hair from your eyes and tracing your cheekbones with long, delicate fingers.

“No, Rog, I want to say it, I was just so scared of how you might react. I didn’t- I didn’t trust myself to tell you without hurting you,” you manage to speak, voice cracking from the effort. 

He stares at you with large, understanding eyes, waiting patiently for you to continue. You take a deep breath, intertwining your fingers with his and playing with them nervously, trying to channel all of your anxiety into the motions. He gives them a gentle squeeze, as if to silently tell you that everything is ok, and you blink at him gratefully, squeezing back with trembling hands.

“Ever since you went on tour, I’ve started to think more about the future. Our future… Rog, I’m so scared that we won’t make it. I’m scared that you’ll get bored with me, and that once you become famous- because I know Queen is going places- you’ll realize that you can do better, and then I won’t be able to do anything about it, because no matter how much I love you, no matter how much I want you to stay forever, I could never force that on you,” you let out, feeling a wave of relief wash over you as you finally told him about the fears that had been a crushing weight on your heart for so long.

You meet his eyes, afraid of what you might see in them. Would there be anger, or remorse? Or worst of all, confirmation that what you had said was true?

But when you make contact with those familiar blue eyes, you see a mixture of fear and desperation, his irises swimming in tears that make the blue turn into a bright crystalline sky. He opens his mouth, but no sound comes out as he ceases the nervous twitching of his fingers around yours. After what seemed like eons, he finally speaks.

“Y/N…” his voice is soft, so quiet that you almost don't hear him.

“I- love, wait here. Just- give me one moment, I'll be right back, please don’t move,” he whispers, as if he is afraid of coming back to an empty room.

He stands up slowly, letting your hands fall limply to your sides as you stare back at him in confusion. He can see the hurt in your eyes, and he knows that you had expected a different response.

“I love you so much, ok? Just wait here.”

He says it with a shaking voice, and walks swiftly out of your bedroom. You hear him rummaging about in his desk drawer, until he makes a quiet exclamation of relief and slowly returns to your room, standing just inside the doorway. You stare at him, wondering what he could possibly have had to get at a time like this, until you see him slowly approach you.

Both of his hands are behind his back, as if to hide something, and he sits back down in front of you. A small smile plays on his lips, but the nervousness in his gaze overpowers it and you wonder anxiously what he is thinking about.

He brings one hand out from behind him to reach for yours, holding it tightly and caressing it with his thumb as he stares at you. You stare back, holding your breath in anticipation of what he was going to say. He keeps his eyes on you as he brings his other hand shakily out from behind his back, his face showing a mixture of affection and complete terror, a look you had only seen once before. The day he asked me to be his girlfriend, you remember bitter-sweetly, trying to read his eyes for any hints at what he was going to tell you.

You notice nothing in them that gives away what he is about to say, and glance down at his other hand that now hovers in front of his chest.

And then you see it.

Holy fuck.

In Roger’s right hand, he is holding a small, velvety orange box. His fingers wrap delicately around the satin fabric of the casing, and his knuckles had gone white from the effort of trying to stop his hands from trembling.

“R-Rog?”

“Y/N...I am so unbelievably in love with you,” he breathes, releasing your hand to slowly open the small box.

It’s as if this were the first time you were hearing him say it. It might as well have been, because you can feel your heart stop beating, and your whole body tingles with anticipation.

“I-I bought this months ago, but I couldn’t figure out the right time to give it to you. I know it’s unexpected, and I know these probably aren't the best circumstances, but maybe- maybe this will help you, you know? If you agree- if this is something you want, then you won’t ever have to worry about me leaving, you won’t ever have to think about our future and be unsure, because I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life.” 

He pauses for a moment to observe your reaction, taking in the miniscule movement of your head and the twitch of your lips. You hold your breath, your wide eyed stare urging him silently to go on, to ask the question that was balanced precariously on the edge of his tongue, waiting to be tipped over and made tangible for you to answer.

“I want you, darling. Forever. I’ll never stop wanting you, despite what you may think. I can’t fathom a world where we aren’t together, I need you in my life,” he says softly as he slowly takes the ring out of the box to hold in front of you between two fingers.

“Fucking hell, I’d marry you here and now if I could, but I need an answer first. Will you- will you marry me?”

His voice wobbles as he finally lets the words tumble past the barrier of his lips, and he lifts your hand towards the ring slightly, as if the movement itself is the question.

Your heart feels as if it might leap out of your chest, and you have to remember to breathe, sucking in a deep inhale of air. You don’t know whether to smile or cry, so you settle on both, your eyes filling with fresh tears as your lips curl upwards into a trembling bow. But these tears feel different against your skin; they lack the hot, salty pain that you had felt moments before, and instead fall on your face like fresh raindrops, watering the flowers that bloom on your cheeks and cooling the heat of your blush.

For a moment, you forget to answer, and you notice fear flash in Roger’s eyes at your hesitation. You frantically nod your head, not trusting your voice to convey the answer.

The fear immediately leaves his gaze and is replaced with a look of relief and elation, and he brings your hand closer to the ring, eyes darting from your fingers to the shining silver band before he slowly slips it onto you. His mouth morphs into a wide grin when he sees the ring on your finger, fitted perfectly to your delicate hands and reflecting the light coming in from the window. 

You finally regain your ability to speak, and rush to confirm your answer with words.

“Y-Yes, yes Rog, God you have no idea how much I want to,” you continue whispering yes as he pulls you in for a deep kiss, his hands coming to your face so he can keep you there. His tongue darts against your lips and you sigh into his mouth, tangling your arms around his neck and in his hair.

You break apart for air but keep your faces as close as possible, your noses brushing against each other and your breath mingling. The feeling of the ring on your finger is a comforting weight that you have already become used to, the cool metal warming above your hot skin, and you smile at Roger as he looks at you through hooded, content eyes.

“M’so glad I get to marry you. Been meaning to for a while now, but I had to find the perfect ring, and there aren't many jewelry stores around here,” he smiles back at you, his warm breath fanning over your cheeks as he lets out a small laugh.

“It is perfect, Rog. It’s absolutely gorgeous, how on Earth did you afford something like this?” you speak, twisting the ring around your finger with your other hand.

“Pulled a few strings, made a few calls. It was nothing, love, the price doesn't matter, all that matters is that now you can’t get away. You’re all mine,” he smirks slightly, hands sliding down to rest on your waist.

“I’m all yours, Rogie,” you agree, leaning in for another kiss.

“Y’know, I would've married you with paper rings, but this is much better,” you whisper playfully into the kiss, and you feel him laugh against you.

Everything felt right in that moment; it was just you and him, and your surroundings had stilled and faded, washed away by the feeling of his lips on yours and the ring resting on your finger. The dust continued it’s leisurely path along the sunbeams, but you paid it no notice. The wine sat on your desk, stale and forgotten until the next day. The sun slowly sunk under the horizon, and the Earth slowly turned as night approached, and your world was perfect.

[gaarasgoddess]

Welcome to Suna - Part 3

Welcome to Suna. Where the lights never die and the fun never stops. Sakura and Ino lie to their parents to spend a wild weekend in a forbidden city. Will they regret it? Or will they both find something worth coming for?Main pairing is GaaraxSakura and side InoxKankuro.[Listening to 1989 album by Taylor Swift.]

Chapter summary: More raunchy. And Gaara is a dirty talker.  [my first time writing sexual things like this be kind.]

[Please read previous parts first. part 1 and part 2.]

.x.

His laughter died down and Gaara grinned down at her.

She smiled back up at him, humming softly. Sakura took her time getting up from the ground since her head wanted to spin so fast. The sounds and lights of the fireworks were a distant blur in the corner of her eye. Being drunk was not good for her dignity.

Gaara pulled her up to straddle his thighs, his hands stroking her back and squeezing her backside. She groaned into his ear, closing her eyes and sighing. This was a surprisingly comfortable position. She didn’t want to move.

He applied feather light touches along her hip and up her side, then brushed his thumb against her breast. When she sighed and leant into him, Gaara cupped her breasts and kissed her neck. His lips were soft against her skin as his hands teased her and she started slowly rocking against him. He kissed her ear and she shivered. Gaara decided to take a chance and act on his urges.

“I want to fuck you.” He murmured naughty things into her ear, making her blush and wriggle on top of him. “I want to rub my hands all over your naked, sweaty, gorgeous body.”

Sakura’s stomach clenched nervously and an ache began forming between her legs.

“I want to suck your pussy.”

Sakura gasped. Now rubbing herself against his trousers.

“I want your lips over my cock again.” He groaned at his own words. “I want my name on your lips when you cum on my face. Can you feel me in my pants right now, Sakura? Can you feel my cock against your pussy? How much I want you.”

“Mm-hm.” She nodded, her body flushed as his hips jerked upward.

Sakura felt heavy but she managed to lift her head to start kissing him. If he kept talking she would not be able to handle this. She massaged his tongue as her hips took on a life of their own and he was doing this best to move with her. She groaned when he bit her lip gently.

She was about to burst when Gaara stopped her before she could finish. Sakura whined as he stilled her hips, his fingers digging into her sides.

“We need more privacy,” he said.

Alert suddenly she remembered where they were. She looked around and blushed. Nobody was staring and all the sounds of the fireworks and the festival had not changed but she was very aware of how exposed they were. This had gotten out of control but she didn’t actually care. This was what she’d been thinking of when Ino suggested this weekend. Okay she didn’t have any specific ideas of how she would get off since her experience until now was non-existent - almost kisses and her friend (and NOT boyfriend no matter what he told anyone) Lee had groped her butt once that one time he’d got drunk.

Sakura shuddered the thought away. She only knew what Ino had told her about sex. The blonde was not a slut but she was not shy either.

Sakura shifted off Gaara’s lap as he smacked her butt for letting her mind drift. He grinned at her shy expression and stood with her. For a moment they both held onto each other to keep from swaying and falling over. Everything spun a little more than it was supposed to and she held him tighter than necessary, inhaling his smell. There was alcohol on him but more; she described it as manly but that sounded so corny. Maybe it was B.O.

She laughed out loud, stumbling as the sudden movement almost knocked her over. 

“Are you right there?”

She looked up at Gaara who was confused. She nodded. “Nothing.”

His non-existent eyebrows rose and she stared at them, fascinated. Sakura reached up to touch them, surprised at the smoothness of his skin.

“You’re drunk,” he said.

Sakura giggled. “So are you.”

He grinned back at her. “We’re made for each other.”

She laughed again, almost falling down. He grabbed her, pulling her tighter against his body. She buried her face in his chest waiting for her laughter to die down. When Sakura felt a bit calmer, he took her hand.

“Let’s go,” he said.

She blinked at him. “Where are we going now?”

He squeezed her hand and winked at her. “My place.”

.x.

Gaara called “my man” or whomever that was on the phone. She was confused until a limousine rocked up. He was rich! Her jaw dropped but not for long. He was pulling her along, smug about her reaction, and handed something to the driver before motioning for Sakura to get into the limo before him.

When the door was closed, Gaara pounced. His lips on hers, his hands all over her. She had no time to respond. But Sakura quickly gathered her foggy brain as much as she could and responded eagerly. The kiss was hard but not sloppy which made her addled brain wonder how much more amazing he’d be if not drunk.

No more did she want to listen to the bickering of the angel Naruto and devil Ino. This would silence them for awhile. She was sure of it.

Sakura battled Gaara for dominance even though he was the one lying on top of her. The limo moved underneath them making her groan and pull away. She didn’t want to throw up. Understanding, Gaara sat up and she held tight to her purse as he raided the small fridge nearby. Rich people were so weird. A fridge in a limo?!

He grabbed a bottle of wine and two glasses, handing one to her then filling them up. Sakura quickly downed the glass and put it aside, grabbing the bottle. He smirked at her as he drank his wine.

“I wonder how I taste,” she said, staring right into his green eyes, they widened in surprise at her candor. Then he was on her again.

There were more drinks in here and she decided to throw caution to the wind. Sakura drank deeply, parting her legs as Gaara kissed his way down her body. She almost laughed again that he was kissing her dress. But his awkward movements told her he was in just as much of a daze as she was so it was fine.

When he got to the hem of her dress he unceremoniously lifted it as she shifted her hips to accommodate him and she paused for a moment, nervous again; they stared at each other. She licked her lips, the bottle of wine an inch from her mouth, frozen; both were breathing heavily then she nodded without thinking.

Gaara tugged on her knickers, his fingers grazing her sensitive skin and making her hum then moan. She shivered as he exposed her sex to his eyes. He liked what he saw; soft pink hair that was barely visible and trimmed nicely. He swallowed heavily, so excited and in awe. He lowered his mouth and Sakura threw her head back, losing her grip on the wine bottle, her knees lifting off the seat in instinct.

His mouth covered her mound and he gently bit her nub. That tongue of his was a beautiful thing as it swirled between her folds and his fingers kept up a steady rhythm on her clitoris as he drank her deeply. Her taste was intoxicating.

“Gaara!” Her hands went to his hair and she tugged his thick, surprisingly soft locks, with every lick his made. Every time he inhaled and sucked her deeply she cried out. She didn’t even notice the movement of the limo now. They must’ve been going on a smooth highway for all the attention she paid.

“Mm. You taste fucking amazing.” Gaara groaned as Sakura’s eyes blurred white and a coil tightened in her body. She came onto him, her groin hot and wet and shivering.

He cleaned her up with his mouth as she continued to tremble at this new experience. Gaara fixed her knickers and kissed his way back up her. She didn’t push him away when he went to kiss her. She didn’t want to taste herself on him. But she was in too deep now. Her body sung and trembled and her drunk mind didn’t care anymore what she tasted like as he made love to her mouth.

When the limo finally came to a halt, she suddenly remembered it and broke the kiss.

“Come on,” he said.

She grabbed her purse, tugged on the hem of her dress to look a little presentable and let Gaara take her hand leading her out of the limo. The drinks were forgotten. He must either be really rich or too drunk to care.

The estate was large and the driveway long but they didn’t go in the front door.

“The door is locked, I don’t have the key on me, it’s late and my parents would kill me for waking them up now.”

“Parents?”

He shrugged as they took a side entrance. “This isn’t a house. It’s an estate. Does it bother you?”

It hadn’t occurred to her he was her age. She thought he was a few years older but she suddenly realised he was a senior high schooler too. She grinned. They were both being naughty this weekend.

“No.” He probably had a whole wing to himself. Rich families were very weird.

He tugged her hand gently and Sakura suddenly felt very fatigued. They couldn’t have sex if she was asleep! She tried to stay aware as they walked through large rooms and past opulent portraits and up a carpeted stairway, but even the  extravagance couldn’t keep her attention. She knew she needed to sleep and not get laid. Sorry Ino.

Suddenly they were at his bedroom door. Suddenly, he was throwing them open. And suddenly, his very comfortable four poster bed was calling to her.

Gaara chuckled as she dumped her purse on a side table and threw herself on his bed, wriggling her bum and getting comfortable. Her deep breathing followed a moment later and he kicked his shoes off before joining her in bed, pulling the blankets over the both of them to try to sleep. Even after a few drinks it wasn’t easy for him.

Besides, they were both too drunk to do anything more than they had, just yet. But morning was going to be a different story.

[asphalt-cocktail]

Kinkmas Prompt #8: Voyeurism

If you are considered a minor do NOT interact with this post. This is fictitious content and I own nothing. A/N: Hi cuties! The next installment of Kinkmas, I know i promised these would be done by New Years day, but it’s just not going to happen tbh. BUT I will complete them. I’ll be recovering from my hangover tomorrow so I’ll be able to write almost all day. Anyways, enjoy some good old fashioned hate fucking from 80s!Roger, you already know he’s my favorite.

If you would like to request a prompt and character yourself please reference my Kinkmas masterpost.

Pairing: Roger Taylor x F!Reader

Word Count: 2.9k

Warnings: Smut, fingering, public sex, fr its super public, alcohol and cigarettes, slut shaming, dirty talk, Roger and reader being dicks to each other, what’s up with me and enemies to lovers?? What can i say, i love the fic. not proof read.

Kinkmas 2019 Masterlist

General Masterlist

Asks

If you are considered a minor do NOT interact with this post. This is fictitious content and I own nothing.

Touring with Queen as an up and coming rock and roll band was honestly everything you had ever hoped for and more. With them having been established and a world-wide success for roughly a decade, they could have easily ignored you and your band, but they took you in with open arms. They mentored your troupe and made you all feel included.

Well, most of them did at least.

There was one that just couldn’t seem to stand your antics.

Roger Taylor.

You didn’t know where you had gotten off on the wrong foot, maybe it was when your guitarist accidentally shattered all the hotel room windows, or when your bassist got punched in the face by a guard after starting an argument mid show, or maybe it was when your drummer was arrested for being too drunk in public and passing out outside of the club you were at. Either way, he could not stand your careless and stubborn attitudes.

Tonight, the post show ritual was like any other. You quickly changed from your show clothes into something suitable for the after party and tried to quickly clean some of the sweat from your body before you headed over to back to the hotel.

Because of the success of Queen, they could afford to rent out the penthouse suite on the top floor, while you and your bandmates crammed into two hotel rooms. It didn’t bother you though, you often found yourself waking up on their living room floor at some weird time and dragging yourself back to your hotel room.

As you approached the room to their suite, you could practically hear the shouting and music through the door, you pushed it open and let yourself in. Your senses were overwhelmed by the different smells mixing together, sweat, alcohol, cigarettes, filled your nostrils. It was familiar and comforting.

You quickly lit up your own cigarette and grabbed a bottle of beer, frowning when you saw it wasn’t a twist off. You looked around before your eyes settled on the counter in the kitchenette, you walked over carefully lining up the edge of the cap on the counter and hitting your hand against it, successfully popping it off. “Can’t use a bottle opener like a normal person?” You turned, to see Roger leaning back against a wall, brooding.

“I didn’t break anything.” You said back, furrowing your brows with frustration.

Roger rolled his eyes, “You chipped the bloody counter, I saw it.” He chastised

You flicked your cigarette ash at him, “Piss off,” You spat back at him, before taking an angry drink of your beer.

“We’ll mail you the bill.” He said, stuffing his hand in his pockets.

He wasn’t right, you did chip the counter. But did you care? No, not in the least bit because the night was just getting started and a little chip on the counter was nothing compared to what the night could potentially have in store.

“What’s the cause?” you asked, tapping a finger to your lip in a mocking manor “I hope its for you to finally get a better haircut, can’t stand looking at the god-awful mullet. Makes you look way older than you already do…”

Oh, that did it, his cheeks flared red and you swore if this was a cartoon, steam would have blown from his ears. He sputtered out a few incoherent words before he clenched his jaw, stomping off.

The more the alcohol flowed the more you found yourself loosening up, dancing and swaying your hips along with the music and even occasionally grinding on a groupie that had found her way in Queen’s suite.

You let out a loud burst of laughter when one of the scantily dressed girls bumped into you, causing you to spill your glass all over yourself and the floor, you turned to see Roger frowning and shaking his head across the room, despite him wearing those stupid dark sunglasses you knew he saw you and you loved getting a rise out of him, you might even would have called it your favorite pastime. Your hand reached up to your cleavage, swiping up a droplet of alcohol from your skin and sucking it off your fingers while maintaining eye contact with the sunglasses clad Roger.

You frowned, stumbling a bit, “I’ve got to change, I’ll be back!” You said to the nameless girl who was swallowed by the crowd as soon as you left.

You ran into Freddie who looked down at the dark stain on your tee shirt “What happened to you?” He asked, wrapping a friendly arm around your waist and pulling you against his side.

“Some girl bumped into me!” You said holding up your half empty drink, “Can I borrow a top dear?” You asked leaning onto his shoulder.

Freddie rubbed your shoulder and gripped your hand “Of course, love, let’s go.” He said pulling you off into one of the closed bedrooms. He rummaged through one of his many suitcases, “Roger’s been pissing and moaning all night.” He said shooting you a knowing grin, “Because you called him old and said his haircut was god-awful.”

You tried to bite back a smile, “I wanted to get a rise out of him, you know I love to piss him off.” You answered honestly.

Freddie threw you a button-down shirt, you quickly slipped it on frowning when the buttons didn’t touch.

Curse Freddie and his stylishly tight shirts.

You shrugged opting to leave it open, “Just watch yourself, you don’t want to get him too riled up.” Freddie warned as you exited his room.

You grabbed another cigarette, sticking it between your lips and lighting it as you wandered over to the table with all the alcohol on it, quickly making yourself a heavily mixed drink. You sipped it as the crowd swallowed you, bodies pressed against you as you turned and swayed your hips to the music, you soon felt small hands gripping your hips and rubbing up the sides of your torso as you swayed against them. You turned seeing the girl that had bumped into you earlier. You grinned, gripping her hands and keeping them placed on your hips as you began to grind against her. Her hands slipped from your grip and lightly trailed up your waste, tracing the band of your bra with her delicately decorated fingernails.

You shivered against her touch and leaned back, burying your face into her neck and sighing against her soft skin. You briefly looked away, locking eyes with Roger from across the room. Even at a distance you could tell his eyebrows were furrowed, still bothered by your comment from earlier. He was clearly not paying attention to Brian who was seated next to him and talking.

The groupie pulled your hair back and her mouth lightly ghosting over your neck as you let out a breathy sigh. You turned, glancing sideways at Roger and cupping the girl’s face, placing a soft sensual kiss on her lips. Your mouths lightly touched, and she laced her fingers in your hair, pulling you closer against her. You two kissed only for a brief moment before you pulled away, finding yourself breathless “I’ll be back.” You said swallowing thickly, feeling her lingering touch as you made your way to the bathroom.

You just needed to freshen up, your skin felt excruciatingly hot and your panties began to dampen from the girl’s soft touches. You tugged on the handle to the bathroom door, only for it to be pulled from your grasp, you looked up to see Roger. How had he made it here before you?

Maybe your brief kiss wasn’t as brief as you thought.

He scoffed, looking down at you, not moving, “Surprised you aren’t running off with that girl, slut.” He harshly said.

You crossed your arms over your chest, “Not like you wouldn’t have done the same thing,” You moved to push past Roger, but his body filled the frame, “It’s kind of nice though, all those fake moans wake me up so I don’t have to see the painful interaction when those tramps do the walk of shame.” Roger looked taken back and his mouth hung slightly ajar with shock, “Surprised you can even get it up, you’re so old you know.” You continued, sensing the anger bubbling within the blonde-haired man.

His jaw clenched with frustration, “You should have really just forgone the shirt tonight, love,” his tone sent a shiver down you’re your spine, “Lord knows it winds up coming off when you drink anyways.” When you didn’t respond, he boldly took a step closer to you, “What, no smart remark?” He asked, watching you step back, you back hitting the wall behind you.

When did this hallway get so small?

Sweat began to prick the back of your neck as your heart began to race, you looked up at him and locked eyes with his intense gaze, “I can’t fucking stand you.” you tried to sound confident, but your voice failed you.

Roger’s face fell into a mocking frown “Aw, what’s wrong, has the kitten lost her bite?” He mocked and stepped closer towards you, closing the distance between the two of you.

Your hands splayed against the cheaply painted wall as you averted your gaze, your thighs clenching together at his words, “I-I can’t fucking stand you,” Your voice not hiding the arousal you were feeling while cornered.

Roger smirked, “You like this, don’t you?” He asked, pushing his knee between your legs and putting his hands on either side of your head “Bet it’s getting you off, isn’t it?” His hand lightly brushed against the exposed skin around your neck and shoulders, massaging it in his rough hands. Your mouth hung open and you let out a shuttering breath, “You’re fucking filthy, aren’t you?” He chastised as his hand covered your throat, keeping it there just to tease you.

You whimpered against his hand, shifting the weight of your legs in hopes of some form of friction. You opened your mouth but found yourself unable to speak. Roger’s grip tightened around your neck, causing your jaw to fall open and a stuttering moan to fall from your lips. He released his grip and watched as you let out gasping breaths, your eyes rapidly blinking in an attempt to focus once more.

His smirk widened as he felt you slowly rubbing your self against his leg, desperately trying to relieve some of the tension that had begun to build between your legs before once again squeezing your throat. You gasped against the pressure, feeling your throat constricting as you struggled to inhale. Your eyes fluttered shut and pressed harder against his thigh, his free hand came up and stilled your hips, pushing them against the wall. Your mind began to feel fuzzy from the lack of oxygen, you reached up tapping at his hand.

Roger quickly released, rubbing the sides of your throat as your legs wobbled while you gasped, sucking in the air your lungs were deprived of. You looked up at Roger, blinking to clear your hazy vision and saw his stern face looking down at you, almost in judgement, “You think you can get off after the shit you’ve put us through on tour?” He asked, his hand now moving to the side of your face, squeezing your cheeks together and forcing you to look at him.

“Please,” You whimpered through your forcibly puckered lips.

Roger dramatically rolled his eyes “Please?” He scoffed at your request, “If you’re going to act like a slut, I’m going to treat you like one.” He said letting go of your face and stepping back, “Turn around” He said pushing your shoulders.

You shivered with excitement and turned around. He immediately pressed you against the wall, pulling your hips flush against him, “I’m going to fuck you right in this hallway,” He said, slipping his fingers down the front of your pants, harshly rubbing against your clit, “Christ, your soaked.” He said, his fingers easily moving between your slick folds. Your hands desperately pressed against the wall, clawing at it as you whimpered while his fingers worked you.

You spread your legs and pushed against his hand, desperately chasing your release “Rog, please” You gasped.

“Please what?” He taunted you with his words as his fingers slowed down, now lazily rubbing your swollen clit.

“Fuck me,” You whined.

Roger pulled his hands from your pants and toyed with the waistband of your pants “Fuck you where? Here in this hall, where everyone can see how much of a filthy girl you are?” He asked.

“Yes,” you jumped, feeling him roughly pulling your pants and underwear down, exposing your ass and wet cunt to him.

“No,” He sharply said, “Say. It.” His words were harsh and purposefully articulated.

Your walls clenched at his demanding tone before you swallowed your pride, “I…I want you to fuck me,” You breath hitched in your throat, feeling his rough hands rubbing against the globes of your ass, “Fuck, I want you to fuck me in the hallway.” You tightly balled your fists.

His hand harshly came down, smacking your ass, you jumped and pushed back against his hand, preening into his touch, “Why?” He pressed, spreading your cheeks apart and teasingly running his hard on between your folds.

You hissed and arched your back, pressing against him in hopes that he would finally fuck you, “Because I’m a slut.” You finally answered, swallowing your pride down and submitting to him.

Roger hummed in content “There, you go,” He softly cooed, “Feels good to finally say it, doesn’t it?” He asked, finally pressing into your slick folds.

Your back arched against his touch, as his hips harshly snapped against yours “Oh god,” You gasped out “Yes, feels good.” You whined, pressing your hands against the wall, clawing at it in desperate need to hold on to something.

“Come on, let those pretty sounds out,” He hissed, letting you fall forward as he securely held you, “I want this who fucking party to know you’re a little slut.”

. Your breasts bounced with his thrusts, spilling out of your bra. You turned and looked down the hall, seeing people unknowingly waking past. Your mouth hung open as he rutted into you, his jaw tightly clenched as he grunted with his thrusts, “I’m a slut,” You sobbed out with pleasure.

Roger’s free hand came down and slapped your ass loudly, “Yeah, who’s fucking you right now- go on tell them.” He said nodding towards the light at the end of the hall.

“R-Roger” You sputtered out weakly. His hand came down harder on your cheek, “Fuck, Rog, your cock feels so good inside me.” You cried loudly.

“You like knowing that slut from earlier can see you getting fucked out here?” He grunted, your arms felt tight and sore as they stretched out, bracing you against the wall once more. His now free hands reached down, rubbing harsh, messy, circles around your clit.

“I want her to see,” The words spilled out of your mouth without a thought, the filter between your brain and mouth now gone.

Roger’s hips harshly snapped against yours, “You’re filthy, you know that?” he said, pinching your swollen clit and rolling it between his fingers, “Fucking filthy, wanting everyone to see you like this.”

You hissed at the delicious burn between your legs and your walls fluttered around Roger’s cock. The thought of anyone walking in and seeing the two of you was pushing you dangerously close to the edge, “’M close,” You whimpered, pushing yourself back and meeting his thrusts.

Your body sloppily shifted as he reached down pulling your arms away from the wall and turning you so you could face down the entrance of the hallway, the light reflecting off the sweat that had begun to speckle your forehead. Your shoulders burned as Roger slammed you back against his hips, tightly holding your wrists in his hands. Your back arched as he hit that spot inside you that caused the string of tension in your belly to ware thinner and thinner, “R-Rog,” You gasped, squeezing your eyes shut.

Roger jerked your arms roughly, “Keep them open, I want you to see everyone that walks past here.” He clenched his jaw, his thrusts faltering and losing their rhythm. He was close as well.

Your mouth hung ajar as a string of whiney gasps passed through your lips while you struggled to keep your eyes open. Several people walked past, glancing, quickly averting their gaze, and shuffling past; their mumbled apologies going from one ear and right out the other as the two of you lost yourselves in pleasure.  With one last sharp thrust, Roger had you coming undone. Your walls pulsated around him, the pressure causing him to reach his own release. He quickly pulled out, releasing hot spurts of come on your back.

Your legs shook and threatened to buckle as you gasped, coming down from your high, “Christ, Roger you’re room is less than three meters away, you could have gone in there?” You recognized the voice but averted your gaze, maintaining your bent over position.

Roger let your arms fall limply to your sides, the muscles in your shoulders aching from how he held you “Don’t worry, we’re finishing up in there, Bri.” Roger said tucking himself back into his pants. You slowly sat up right, rubbing your sore back and caught Roger’s gaze “Don’t bother fixing yourself, you’re just going to take it off.” He said while opening the door to his bedroom. You shivered with anticipation, he wasn’t done with you yet?

[loversoon]

Almost Is Never Enough.

Word count: 3,162

Pairing: Roger Taylor & Reader, can also be Ben Hardy!Roger Taylor & Reader

Warning(s): Very angsty and emotional. Also contains a bit of smut so discretion is adviced.

Summary: She huffed, pulling herself up from the stool and forcing herself out of the room, out of their house, out of his life. She tried, she did. And maybe someday the universe will bring them back together again for another cup of coffee. They almost won, but sometimes almost is never enough.

or

The one where their love ended up with them being two worlds apart.

Walking past the university door, she was almost immediately pushed back as a warm body collided into her small one. The collision resulted in warm coffee spilling all over her coat and the person that bumped into her.

"Oh my God, I am so sorry!" She gasped as she took in the damage, immediately reaching into her backpack as she pulled out napkins. The person chuckled at her poor attempts of drying the already cold coffee off the already soaked shirt. She looked up briefly, to be met with a beautiful set of eyes.

Soft and dark shades of ocean blues danced in his irises, almost creating a swirling pattern. The same colors as the waves of the ocean that would crash along the sea shore. Eyes gazed with amusement as a light smirk made it's way into his slightly-chapped plump lips. His aura was intimidating, yet captivating. He was beautiful. Alluring and prepossessing.

As she gazed into his soft eyes, his mind was set on how magnetic she felt. The Y/E/C eyes that gazed into his own gave him a sense of enchantment, she was bewitching and fascinating. She brought her closer to him with just a look from those beautiful eyes.

And that's how it all began. As clićhe and cheesy as it may sound, it was almost as if that cup of coffee was the universe's way of bring two lovers together. If the timing wasn't right then god knows they wouldn't have found themselves in each other's arms. They were never one to believe in a thing such as love, already having learned from past heartbreaks that it takes a lot to fall in love with a person, and with just a flick of a lever, they found each other falling deep.

Those eyes that she loved dearly, peering down at her with such admiration. Melting her into a small puddle on the ground as the softest of smiles adorned her pretty lips. It was fairly easy for her to fall in love with him. How can you not? He was perfect in her eyes. The man she always found herself daydreaming about in her middle-school years, her dreams were finally coming true, and he was one of them.

Months passed by like a blur with each moment spent together. Months felt like hours when they were singing along to their favorite song on the car radio, or when they were laughing at something the other person said. Time flies by fast when two people are in love.

For him it feels surreal how he has finally found someone he cherished, someone he cared for. He wasn’t one for cheesy romances, but he wasn’t heartless either. He may have moments where he feels like he won’t need somebody else in his life to complete him but deep down a part of him yearned to fall in love with somebody.

The day he found her, he’d just gotten out of a class, with a piece of paper that he wasn’t too proud of. Failing tests wasn’t something he was quite fond of, but things happen. With a big sigh, he walked out of the classroom, eyes casted down as he pondered about what he would have to do increase his math grade, he wasn’t paying attention to anything that happened around him. With a cloudy mind and a heavy heart, he didn’t notice the frail body that he bumped into.

“Oh my god, I am so sorry!” A girl softly gasped as she reached for tissues in her backpack, he closed his eyes in sheer frustration before opening them again, to see her hastily trying to wipe away the spilled coffee that’s already soaking his white shirt. He can’t help as a chuckle left his mouth at the poor attempts that this girl was offering. Eyes meeting his, his whole mood just about lifted as the amount of softness she radiates seeps into his heart.

After the accidental meeting, she offered to buy him a new shirt, him declining and claiming that a “cup of coffee would just be fine, love”.

The cup of coffee at the café across the street led them to a different path, metaphorically speaking of course. They found themselves loving each other endlessly.

Those same eyes peered up at him as soft moans emitted from her cherry red lips. Elbows on either side of her head as he slowly rocked his hips into hers. The warm cozy feeling of lit candles, the smell of lingering sex, soft moans and deep groans filled the night air as they professed the love they had for each other physically.

“I love you, I love you so much,” He groaned into her ear as his thrusts started speeding up, moans spilling from his lips as she pursed hers together, wondering if he meant what he said or if he was just driven by the force of lust filling his veins.

His groans getting louder as his climax neared, eventually coming undone in the condom, he kissed her forehead lightly before taking off the rubber and rolling over to his side of the bed. Silence seeped into the night air as neither of them found the right words to speak. He’s aware that he let himself slip, the three words he was planning to tell her maybe after a nice dinner slipping in a moment of euphoria instead. It terrified him how he never heard her say it back.

“Rog?” A soft voice slipped him out of his trance, humming in reply, he casted his eyes towards her.

“Did you mean what you said?” An unsure, small voice left her as she looked at him hopefully. That was enough to break him as he leaned into her for a longing kiss.

“I do, God, I do,” He pulled away, a warm smile found it’s way on her lips as her glossy eyes found his. “I love you too, so much,”

Now those same eyes he’d fallen in love with so easily peered up at him with tears, not because of how much she was in love with him, but because of the words he let himself slip just moments ago.

With his band reaching a more successful state, he was getting busier with recording and writing sessions at the nearby studio. He was out almost all day everyday, arriving home late at night with a barely there peck on her forehead as he slipped into the covers next to her. She knew he’d been busy, and she understood too. She was always proud of how far he’s come with his dream career, with the years they’d spent together, drumming was almost always something he was doing. He was so passionate about it and when he finally received the well-deserved success, she was so immensely proud of him.

But of course, with the amount of success he’s receiving comes sacrifices. Touring for months on end was in despicably annoying but if they wanted to keep food in the fridge then it had to be done. Given just a few weeks of alone time together before he’d have to start with the next album, she always took great advantage of the few weeks they had.

But this time it was filled with late nights at the pubs with her left alone wondering if he’d come back home to her in one piece. It worried her greatly how her lover seemed to spiral uncontrollably into something she wasn’t very proud of. It hurt her deeply but she didn’t want to be a bother, she knew how hard he worked on the last tour and he deserved to have a few nights of getting crazy drunk. But those nights turned into weeks and before they both knew it, he was set to start the recording of their latest album.

If the excessive amounts of partying on his side didn’t cause a rift between their relationship, this one definitely did. He was rarely home, sometimes not coming home for days straight, and when he did come home, it would be late at night when he knew she was fast asleep. Gone before she even wakes up from her slumber.

She felt this distance between them causing something in their relationship, and she wasn’t quite ready to admit it to herself yet.

On the nights that he didn’t come home, she would find herself longing for him, emotions expressed with the tears dripping down her cheeks. She pondered about how fast everything was taken away from her, wondered about what she did to have possibly set her lover away from her and thought about how she could fix it.

With the effort of waking up a few minutes before him, she slaved in their kitchen to cook him a healthy breakfast, as a way of expressing the amount of love she still had in every cell of her fibre for him. As she heard his footsteps patting against the wooden staircase, excitement filled her as she placed the plate of eggs and bacon on the kitchen aisle.

He was definitely surprised when he saw her with a large grin with a plate of freshly cooked breakfast nicely put on the aisle. “I cooked you breakfast,” she softly exclaimed. He moved past her, grabbing himself a cup of water to fill his rumbling stomach. “I’m not hungry,” He muttered. A clear white lie, if he was paying attention then maybe he would’ve noticed how she seemed chest fallen at his words.

“But I-uh, I cooked you something to fill your tummy,” she trailed, he huffed before replying with a sterner voice, “I’m not hungry, Y/N.” He hoped for this conversation to end. He wasn’t about to tell her off and possibly create an argument at seven in the bloody morning. He had things to do.

“But I-“, “I said I’m not hungry, Y/N!” He roared, with anger coursing through his veins, the glass cup slipped from his hands and onto the floor. Chest heaving in frustration, he set his eyes on her. Scared and afraid, she trailed her eyes on the broken pieces of glass. He huffed, “I’m going, don’t call me.” He spit out harshly before making his way to the front door and out of the house.

Tears filled the brim of Y/N’s eyes to the point where she couldn’t keep them in anymore. Silently picking up the larger pieces of glass and accidentally cutting her skin open. The way the pain felt from the cut on her finger was different from the pain she felt from her chest. It felt like someone was squeezing her heart, the pain was almost unbearable as her chest heaved up and down with her attempts to take deep breaths. Pulling herself up and settling on the stool, she pulled herself back together as endless thoughts raced through her mind.

Was he falling out of love? He can’t be. He promised her he wouldn’t. With the countless times they professed the amount of love they have for each other during late night talks when either of them can fall asleep, he can’t fall out of love that easily. Not when she was still so madly head over heels for him even through the distance that they had for months on end.

Sobs wracked from her body, palm over her mouth as an attempt to keep them shush herself, he can’t just walk away, not like that and not without fighting for their love.

She was unknowingly the only one fighting for what’s left in their relationship for months. Now that she’s thought about it, everything suddenly clicked and every cloudy thoughts she’d have over the past month suddenly came back to her in full clarity.

That explains the barely there kisses, the way he seemed uninterested whenever she made the effort to spark conversation between the both of them, the short phone calls during the times he was gone that consisted of an “I miss you” and a “good bye”, and he always seemed to be in a rush to end phone calls, as if he wasn’t even interested in hearing her speak about her undying love for him. And he hasn’t touched her, not even once during the whole month and a half he was back home.

The she realized. He can’t possibly be having an affair with someone else, right? He can’t do that to her, he won’t do that to her. Because he promised her that she’ll be the only one he’ll ever love.

More sobs poured out of the poor girl’s mouth, the sound of the miserable sobs covering the sound of her fragile heart breaking into two. She felt so heartbroken she couldn’t think straight. It was almost as if her body was just functioning by itself. The amount of sadness coursing through her veins automatically setting her tear ducts to produce as much tears, pouring out until she had no more left to cry.

And there she sat for hours on end, staring into space as her mind was left blank. The tears have stopped pouring and her cheeks sticky from the dried tears. She felt exhausted but she can’t find the strength to pull herself up. Just as she was trying to regain herself, the front door opened. His arrival didn’t settle in her mind before he stood at the door way of the kitchen. His eyes set on the smaller shards of glass, the dust pan filled with bigger shards of the broken glass and the broom laid flat on the floor. They widened at the sight of her, hair a bit matted and cheeks glistening, he can her the rumbles of her hungry stomach from the distance between the stool and the doorway.

He cleared his throat in an attempt to catch her attention. Eyes meeting his, he felt his heart break slightly. The usual sparkle and brightness that captivated him in the first place was replaced with dullness, the only sparkle in her eyes were the glossiness that took over right when she set her gaze on him.

The two of them stayed in silence before she cleared her throat. The sadness in her heart was replaced with anger, how can he just stand there and pretend he never left her alone in silence, with a broken heart?

“I just wanna know why you’re doing this,” She muttered quietly, he huffed in response. “What do you fucking mean?” He’s getting frustrated now, coming home after a long day at the studio to no food prepared and yet another argument striking. “Do you even love me still? Why have you given up on us?” The tone of her voice was sharper, louder. The words that came out of her mouth hurt him, was she seriously doubting the love he had for her? Yeah, he’s been distant lately, but he’s been busy working to keep the lights on and the warm food in their stomachs.

“Are you seriously gonna go there?” He looked at her with an eyebrow raised, if she wasn’t angry before, she definitely is now. “Just answer my god damned fucking question!” She yelled at him, catching him off-guard and the atmosphere was getting stuffier as each moment passes by. She was never hostile, and she has never raised her voice when it comes to arguments that they’ve shared throughout the years, this was purely new territory to him. Silence engulfed the air once again, silent enough that you could hear the tiniest feather drop.

Then his brows furrowed, as anger coursed through him once again. He glared at her, but this time, he was met by a look of betrayal, hurt and anger. Not an ounce of the old Y/N was left in the aura of the person right across him. The once bubbly, bright and radiant person was replaced with one that radiated pure and sheer anger.

“You know what? I don’t deserve this, I don’t deserve to be treated like shit! Especially by someone like you!” She yelled at him, “You ask me why I fell out of love, then you go ahead and act like such a bitch!” He spits out, his anger was taking the best of him, the air was tense and the fierce look on her face quickly crumbled to a one of hurt and emotion.

Her head hurt as she desperately tried to keep the tears inside, she can’t show him how much everything is affecting her, “I just wanna know why you’re giving up on us, Rog. Please. I just- I- This-this isn’t like us, Rog.” She pleaded as a tear escaped, quickly wiping it off her cheek.

“I do love you still,” His voice softened. Hope filled her eyes, quickly shattered by what came out of his mouth next, “But I just don’t feel like we’re working out,” He muttered softly at her, afraid that he might break her any further.

And she let them be. The tears sped down her cheeks as a loud sob emitted from her chest, her heartbreak was imminent from the amount of tears streaming down her cheeks. The sight of the broken girl in front of him caused a few tears to pool in his eyes.

“So this is it, huh?” She chuckled dryly as she forced herself to face him, take all of him one more time before she would have to bid good bye to the love and the memories shared. “You’re just giving us up like that?” She whispered, “It’s not like that lo-“, “Then what exactly is it, Roger?” She hiccupped, the sight of him tearing up was breaking her heart even more, “Because from what I understand, you’re just gonna give us up without even trying to make the effort to make things work,” She spoke, “I did my part, Rog. I tried fixing us, but I can’t just fix a relationship with two fucking people by myself,” She cried and yet again, she was mer by silence. He set his gaze on the floor and unable to find the right words to speak to her, a few tears strolling down his cheeks.

She huffed, pulling herself up from the stool and forcing herself out of the room, out of their house, out of his life. She tried, she did. And maybe someday the universe will bring them back together again for another cup of coffee. They almost won, but sometimes almost is never enough.

-

hi :) i hope you liked this one! feedback is welcomed, please like and/or reblog if you enjoyed this one, it would mean so much to me. if you wanna be added to my taglist, the link is on my profile! thank you for reading <3

taglist:

@prince-lucifer-v

[megalony]

Touchy situation- Part 1

This is a new slow-burn Roger Taylor series that was inspired by an episode of House. I hope you all like it.

Taglist: @lunaticspoem @butlegendsneverdie @langdonzvoid @jennyggggrrr @rogmeddows @radiob-l-a-hblah @rogertaylorsbitontheside @chlobo6 @rogertaylors-lipgloss @sj-thefan @omgitsearly @luckytrashgooprebel @scarsout @deaky-with-a-c @killer-queen-ofrhye @bluutac @vousmemanqueez @rogahs-drowse

Summary: (Y/n) and Roger still love each other even after their breakup but although they want to be together again they can’t because Roger is with someone else now. Someone who is now pregnant.

Roger Taylor masterlist

Series masterlist

Enjoy.

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The pad of her index finger had long since turned numb from the countless times that it had been swirling around the rim of the rather large wine glass sitting on the stained bar top in front of her. The large, dome-shaped glass was on its third refill of the blood-red wine that (Y/n) used to see adults drinking and think it made them like vampires.

There had been another glass much the same as this one about an hour and a half ago which had been half full of white wine which had been much drier and made her throat sting just a little. But it had taken the edge off of the two shots of murky brown whiskey she had downed before that.

Just over two hours was the time slot which (Y/n) had occupied this bar stool for which was making her bum and legs feel numb as she had only moved once to go to the bathroom.

The wooden bar counter resting in front of (Y/n) had a small circle of water soaked into it from the glass of wine and the condensation from it. There were many spillages on the wood that swept across the whole surface, apart from the area in which (Y/n) was occupying. She was much like Roger in the respect that she hardly ever spilt a drink, especially one of alcohol.

It was fair to say that by now, (Y/n) was past the point of being drunk. She felt drunk enough that now she simply felt sober. The effects of alcohol were no longer affecting her in the way she wanted them to. Her brain wasn't as fuzzy as it had been around the third glass of wine. Her memory was no longer blurry and locked up in a box in the back of her mind, that box was now open and revealing everything that she was desperate to forget. Her body didn't feel like it was made out of jelly, she felt as sober as when she had walked in and rather rudely demanded a drink.

The bartender who (Y/n) knew to be named Adam had conversed with her for the first hour. He had listened when she huffed and spoke in angry whispers about her troubles, he had refilled her drinks when asked to and he had clearly felt bad for her when she cried. But then (Y/n) simply stopped talking, and he knew better than to ask anything more.

All that (Y/n) wanted was to get as drunk as humanly possible and wake up in a different world or a different time.

She wanted to wake up and know that everything was how it should be, and not how it was right now. She wanted to wake up and know that Roger felt as bad as she did right now, she wanted him to feel worse. She wanted Roger to be suffering in the same way she was, but deep down (Y/n) knew that wouldn't be the case.

She was the one who was hurt and wallowing in pain and self-pity.

That wasn't Roger's style.

(Y/n) snapped her eyes closed when she felt the corners of her lips falling down as if someone was pulling at her strings. She hated this feeling, the way she couldn't control her lower lip wobbling or her lips from falling into a frown that kept on falling. She hated having to draw blood from her lip to pin it in place so she wouldn't be at risk of falling to pieces and letting out a drunken sob.

Her body was desperate to cry and release the pain she felt but she wasn't at home and she wasn't alone. She couldn't fall yet, she had to hold her broken pieces together whilst in public.

Knowing that the alcohol might stop her sorrow from making her break down, (Y/n) moved her hand from circling the rim of the glass to grab the thin stem so she could take a large gulp of the blood coloured wine. (Y/n) only just managed to lift the glass from the counter before a hand she instantly recognised was placed over her glass, pushing it back down again.

"I think you've had enough."

The voice that spoke was gentle and quiet. It wasn't rough or slightly grainy or thick like it sounded when singing and in recording sessions. There was a calmness to his voice that set a fire sparking inside (Y/n) because he knew exactly why she was here drowning her sorrows and yet he had to audacity to tell her she had had enough.

Turning her head to the right, (Y/n)'s half-lidded eyes were not impressed by the concerned look on Roger's face. The drummer was leaning his side against the counter which his right elbow was leaning on so his body was facing her.

(Y/n) didn't have to ask him how he knew she was here, there were only two possibilities. Since she had been here for little over two hours, Roger had either been searching for her for a while, or because he knew she frequented this bar a lot, he decided she would be here and came down now. It didn't matter anyway, although (Y/n) couldn't stop thinking about the drummer, she didn't want him here tonight. She didn't want him within her sights or anywhere near her.

"You don't get to decide that." (Y/n) surprised herself when she managed not to slur any of her words before she shrugged him away and brought the glass to her lips.

Roger leaned to take the glass from her which caused (Y/n) to take a larger gulp of the drink before he managed to take it from her. He didn't want her to drink herself into oblivion, especially when he knew that he was the cause of this.

"Come on, I'll take you home." Roger spoke in a gentle tone before he tried to help (Y/n) from the bar stool that had almost become part of her from how long she had been sat there. He winced when (Y/n) tried to fight him off before slipping from the stool causing him to grab hold of her to prevent her from hitting the floor.

When she felt she was stable enough, (Y/n) pushed and hit at Roger's chest until he let her go. His eyes watching as she brushed her hands over her shirt before grabbing her bag and haphazardly slinging it over her shoulder. She was thankful that she wasn't wearing heels tonight as she knew she would have gone head over heels if she did. The alcohol was already working its magic on her balance, causing her to sway as she tried to walk to the door.

Anger consumed (Y/n) when she felt Roger wrapping his arms around her to keep her upright as if they were a couple out on a night on the town and were helping each other home.

She didn't want his help.

"Get off." (Y/n) snapped, swinging her arms around to try and either get Roger to let go of her or to gain someone's attention so he would leave her alone like she wanted. But Roger ignored her words, keeping his arms tightly around her to hold her weight as he pushed her towards the door to the bar. Stumbling out with her before he doubled over when (Y/n) managed to get her elbow into his stomach.

(Y/n) breathed deeply and caught back her lost breath as she stumbled to turn around so she was facing him. She brushed her hair out of her face as she could already feel the blood rushing to the surface of her skin from both anger and the sudden squabble with him to get out.

"I don't want your help Taylor, so fuck off. I don't want you to try and save me now, it's too little too late."

The tiniest bit of guilt flooded through (Y/n) at her words when she noticed Roger's face fall. He wasn't trying to make a big scene or do some big act to try and make up for everything or make it all better, he was simply trying to get her home safe because she was very drunk and he knew she was doing this because of him.

"I get that you're upset but you don't have to act like it's all my fault." Roger snapped back in defence, stuffing his hands into his jean pockets as he advanced to stand in front of (Y/n). Both of them now stood by the side of the pub that would most surely be closing within the hour. Roger tipped his head down for a moment to try and calm himself down but he couldn't help but feel riled up. He understood he hadn't made this situation any easier on (Y/n) but he wasn't completely to blame here and she couldn't act like he was.

"Yes it is-"

"No it isn't. I moved on with someone else, which for the record is what you did as well so don't act like I cheated on you or got with someone when we were just on a break." Roger was with someone else now but it wasn't like (Y/n) hadn't moved on. She had gotten with someone else, even if she wasn't with that person now she had still moved on from their relationship.

Roger never cheated on her or simply got with someone else when they were supposed to be on a break. He hadn't gone behind her back or hurt her in that kind of way.

(Y/n) couldn't help the tears that fell from her eyes. Roger moving on wasn't exactly the part that she was blaming him for and he knew that. She hadn't moved on, she had only tried to by being with someone which hadn't worked out. Roger tried but she thought they were both rebounding, (Y/n) thought they had a chance of getting back together and Roger gave her the impression that it was a possibility. Now he had gone and crushed that hope into nothing which was what she couldn't forgive him for.

"(Y/n)-"

"No, don't give me a bullshit excuse here Roger. You kissed me when you were still with her, you blabbed and made me think that we could try again but then you go and announce in front of everyone that she's pregnant."

Roger had been with Liz for about three months or more and then he had kissed (Y/n) one night and then over the following days the conversations and the way he acted implied to (Y/n) that they might have a chance. She still loved Roger and she thought there was a chance of them being together again, she truly thought he was going to leave Liz to be with her. But then when they were all out with friends, Roger dropped the bombshell that Liz was pregnant. He told everyone and he had the nerve to do that when (Y/n) was there with the band, knowing that everyone knew their past and how she would feel about it.

"Don't forget that you were the one who broke up with me, (Y/n). I wanted to try again and I was willing to make it work and then you told me to fuck off and get out. Then out of the blue two months later you rock up with what's his name and announce you're together. I'm sorry I had to tell you about the baby with everyone else but you can't shit-stir and act like this is all my fault."

Roger had been willing to try again, to make a fresh start of things and try to make their relationship work because he truly loved (Y/n) and he still did. But she had been the one to end their relationship and to move on first. Roger simply followed in her footsteps because he met Liz who he really liked. But he didn't love her like he loved (Y/n) and somehow he knew she understood that but he couldn't change how things had turned out and he couldn't be fully to blame here.

"I lost our baby Rog! I thought breaking up would be easier, I thought it would help but it only made me want to be back with you and you said that's what you wanted. So tell me why you knocked her up?"

(Y/n) knew she had made mistakes too but it was what Roger had done that was tearing her apart.

They had been together for over a year and found out they were going to have a baby and it was what they both wanted. But (Y/n) had a miscarriage and it affected them both differently. Roger wanted to make a fresh start of things but (Y/n) didn't think they could. Everything felt wrong and bland and hurtful and she thought breaking things off would be the best option and they both needed that time apart. It made them feel better and healed and they weren't making each other ill or sad or broken.

But (Y/n) had simply rebounded when she got with Jack and everyone assumed Roger was doing the same when he got together with Liz. Now she was having a baby and (Y/n) didn't know what to do or how to cope. It had been almost a year since they lost their baby and just when things seemed to be looking up, this was now the life she had to live.

(Y/n) had to see the person she loved have a child with someone else after losing one with her. It was as if (Y/n) wasn't good enough and Roger simply found someone who was.

"Why do you have to say it like that? The truth is this baby wasn't planned and I still love you but this baby changes things. I'm not replacing or forgetting our girl but I'm not leaving Liz. This is my kid and I want to at least try and make this work for their sake, tell me you can understand that."

Roger would never try and replace their girl that they lost and he didn't plan for this baby but the truth of the matter was he was going to have a child and that was something he had to think about. Roger didn't want this child to come from a broken home, he didn't want to raise them from birth with parents who were separated. Nor did he want to just abandon Liz when she was pregnant, he wasn't that kind of guy. So he was staying with her and seeing if he could make this work and if he could love her like he knew he should.

If it didn't work out then that was just how it goes but right now they were together and Roger was trying to do the right thing, but he couldn't help it if that caused others to get hurt along the way.

"I..." (Y/n) choked on her words as she felt like she was breaking. She could understand what Roger was doing and she knew it was the right thing, but it didn't help. It made it worse that she knew he loved her and if he wasn't having this baby he would be with her.

She felt even worse knowing that she was wishing this child didn't exist. (Y/n) wished Liz wasn't pregnant and that she herself was, she wanted the tables to turn and for her to be the one who had her baby and for Liz to be the one without a child. (Y/n) knew the pain it caused and how cruel she was to wish for this but she couldn't help it.

"I love you." (Y/n) cried through the words before she bowed her head and pressed her hands over her eyes to try and rid herself of the tears and hide away from Roger's gaze. She felt so stupid to say those words when it could have all been different. If she didn't break up with him they would still be together and it could have worked out. If Liz wasn't pregnant they could be together now. If they didn't lose their baby they would be a family.

(Y/n) felt herself shaking when Roger wrapped his arms around her, one arm tightly around her waist and the other around her shoulders so his hand could gently press to the back of her head. He encased her to his chest and repeatedly kissed the top of her head to try and calm her down but he couldn't stop himself from crying as well.

"I love you, so, so much. But I have to do the right thing here, it makes it worse that I don't think I'm ever going to love her like I do you. I don't want to fight or lose you (Y/n), don't leave me."

Roger knew deep down that Liz knew he still loved (Y/n) and she knew that he didn't love her like he should or like he said. But she said she was willing to try because they were having a baby, she was fine with Roger trying his hardest to be with her and to love her like he should. They were trying to make this work with bits and pieces missing, even if they knew that in the end, it wasn't going to last forever.

But Roger didn't want to lose (Y/n), he didn't want her to feel so broken that she didn't want him in her life. She had refused to see him for over a week now and he had to make sure that she wasn't going to walk away and never look back. He had to have her in his life for him to be able to survive.

[satanfm]

lux & jordan’s playlist @jordanpls

TRACES OF YOU, ROOTED IN ME.

i don’t regret loving you, but wow do i ever fucking miss you. you are my musical leitmotif; everything reminds me of you...of us.

nearly witches (ever since we met...) by p!atd ---  “ever since we met, i only shoot up with your perfume. it's the only thing that makes me feel as good as you do. ever since we met. i've got just one regret to live through. and that one regret is you. how does a heart love if no one has noticed its presence? and where does it go? trembling hands play my heart like a drum, but the beat's gotten lost in the show. you have set your heart on haunting me forever from the start. it's never silent.”

new york by st. vincent --- “new york isn't new york without you, love so far in a few blocks to be so low and if i call you from first avenue where you're the only motherfucker in the city who can handle me. new love, wasn't true love, back to you, love. so much for a home run with some blue bloods. if i last-strawed you on 8th avenue, where you're the only motherfucker in the city who can stand me. i have lost a hero. i have lost a friend. but for you, darling i'd do it all again.”

atlantis by seafret --- “we got here the hard way all those words that we exchange is it any wonder things get dark? it's in my heart, it's in my head i never take back the things i said. so, high above i feel it coming down. she said, in my heart and in my head tell me why this has to end. oh no, oh no... i can't save us. my atlantis, we fall. we've built this town on shaky ground i can't save us my atlantis, oh no we've built it up to pull it down. now all the birds have fled, the hurt just leaves me scared losing everything i've ever known. it's all become too much. maybe i'm not built for love if i knew that i could reach you i would go.”

not over you by gavin degraw --- “dreams, that's where i have to go to see your beautiful face anymore. i stare at a picture of you and listen to the radio. hope, hope there's a conversation where we both admit we had it good. but until then it's alienation i know that much is understood. and i realize if you ask me how i'm doin', i would say i'm doin' just fine, i would lie and say that you're not on my mind. but i go out and i sit down at a table set for two and finally i'm forced to face the truth no matter what i say i'm not over you.”

all too well by taylor swift --- “oh, your sweet disposition and my wide-eyed gaze we're singing in the car, getting lost upstate autumn leaves falling down like pieces into place and i can picture it after all these days and i know it's long gone and that magic's not here no more and i might be okay but i'm not fine at all 'cause there we are again on that little town street you almost ran the red 'cause you were looking over me wind in my hair, i was there, i remember it all too well 'cause there we are again in the middle of the night we dance around the kitchen in the refrigerator light down the stairs, i was there, i remember it all too well, yeah. maybe we got lost in translation, maybe i asked for too much but maybe this thing was a masterpiece 'til you tore it all up running scared, i was there, i remember it all too well hey, you call me up again just to break me like a promise so casually cruel in the name of being honest i'm a crumpled up piece of paper lying here 'cause i remember it all, all, all too well time won't fly, it's like i'm paralyzed by it. i'd like to be my old self again, but i'm still trying to find it. after plaid shirt days and nights when you made me your own now you mail back my things and i walk home alone. but you keep my old scarf from that very first week ‘cause it reminds you of innocence and it smells like me you can't get rid of it, 'cause you remember it all too well, yeah.”

ocean breathers salty by modest mouse --- “your body may be gone, i'm gonna carry you in. in my head, in my heart, in my soul. and maybe we'll get lucky and we'll both live again. well i don't know. i don't know. i don't know. don't think so. well that is that and this is this. you tell me what you want and i'll tell you what you get. you get away from me. you get away from me. collected my belongings and i left the jail. well thanks for the time, i needed to think a spell. i had to think awhile. i had to think awhile. the ocean breathes salty, won't you carry it in? in your head, in your mouth, in your soul. and maybe we'll get lucky and we'll both grow old. well i don't know. i don't know. i don't know. i hope so.”

lover by taylor swift --- “can i go where you go? can we always be this close forever and ever? and ah, take me out, and take me home you're my, my, my, my lover. we could let our friends crash in the living room this is our place, we make the call. and i'm highly suspicious that everyone who sees you wants you i've loved you three summers now, honey, but i want 'em all. can i go where you go? can we always be this close forever and ever? and ah, take me out, and take me home you're my, my, my, my lover. ladies and gentlemen, will you please stand? with every guitar string scar on my hand i take this magnetic force of a man to be my lover my heart's been borrowed and yours has been blue all's well that ends well to end up with you swear to be overdramatic and true to my lover.”

sick of losing soulmates by dodie --- “what a strange being you are, god knows where i would be if you hadn't found me, sitting all alone in the dark a dumb screenshot of youth watch how a cold broken teen will desperately lean on a super glued human of proof what the hell would i be, without you (what the hell would i be) brave face talk so lightly, hide the truth (hide the truth) 'cause i'm sick of losing soulmates, so where do we begin i can finally see, you're as fucked up as me so how do we win? yeah, i'm sick of losing soulmates, won't be alone again i can finally see, you're as fucked up as me so how do we win? we will grow old as friends.”

i get along well without you very well by billie holiday --- “i get along without you very well of course, i do except when soft rains fall and drip from leaves then i recall the thrill of being sheltered in your arms of course, i do but i get along without you very well i've forgotten you just like i should of course, i have except to hear your name or someone's laugh that is the same but i've forgotten you just like i should what a guy what a fool am i to think my breaking heart could kid the moon what's in store should i fall once more no, it's best that i stick to my tune.”

the breakup by lany --- “my momma always said, "hey take it slow" but how the hell do you fall in love? the last time i checked, you can't fall in slow mo you think you wanna be, you wanna be alone just wait until you're crying on the shower floor it hits you in the chest, 'bout every day you're done 'cause once you let it go, you better know it's gone ooh it's never the same, uh yeah, after the breakup ooh it's never the same, love don't try to make up.”

first love / late spring by mitski --- “wild women don't get the blues but i find that lately i've been crying like a tall child so please hurry leave me i can't breathe please don't say you love me one word from you and i would jump off of this ledge i'm on baby tell me "don't" so i can crawl back in and i was so young when i behaved twenty five yet now i find i've grown into a tall child.”

daylight by taylor swift --- “my love was as cruel as the cities i lived in everyone looked worse in the light there are so many lines that i've crossed, unforgiven i'll tell you truth, but never, "goodbye" i don't wanna look at anything else now that i saw you i don't wanna think of anything else now that i thought of you i've been sleepin' so long in a twenty-year dark night and now i see daylight, i only see daylight.”

death by a thousand cuts by taylor swift --- “saying goodbye is death by a thousand cuts flashbacks waking me up i get drunk, but it's not enough 'cause the morning comes and you're not my baby i look through the windows of this love even though we boarded them up chandelier still flickering here 'cause i can't pretend it's okay when it's not it's death by a thousand cuts i dress to kill my time i take the long way home i ask the traffic lights if it'll be alright they say, "i don't know" and what once was ours is no one's now i see you everywhere, the only thing we share is this small town you said it was a great love one for the ages but if the story's over, why am i still writing pages?”