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remywrites5 · 4 years ago

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Remus looked at himself in the mirror as he brushed his teeth. He really needed to get more sleep, the bags under his eyes had taken up permanent residence there, and his roots were starting to come in. He spat into the sink and then rinsed his toothbrush off. When he glanced back up at himself, there was the same harrowing reflection staring back. He needed to at least re-dye his hair pink or else pick a different colour.

He’d dyed it pink on a whim after his last breakup. He thought maybe going from his usual tawny curls to something else would make him more exciting, more cheerful, more something. “Why are you never smiling?” Benjy had asked Remus all the time. As if Remus should just constantly be smiling like some kind of insane person.

Remus walked over to his desk and flopped into his rolling chair. He sat with one leg bent up towards his chest and hunched over his tablet. The thing was so old it was practically a dinosaur. The program he used to draw on was always crashing – causing Remus to do almost constant saving. Drawing web comics wasn’t exactly the most lucrative use of his art degree, but it paid the bills.

There was some sort of ungodly sound outside and then the distinct clatter of something breaking. Remus jumped to his feet in surprise, wondering if someone had climbed up to his flat to murder him. Two shadows appeared at his door and then one of them knocked. Well, if they were murderers, they were of the polite variety.

Remus walked over tentatively, his pen for his tablet still in his hand as his only means of defense. He figured at the least maybe he could poke a few eyes.

“I don’t think anyone is home.”

“He has to be home. I haven’t seen him leave the house in days.”

“Hmm, paying close attention, are we?”

“Shut up, Jamie.”

“Ow!”

Confused, Remus opened the door to find two guys standing on the other side. The dark-skinned one with glasses immediately smiled, while the pale one with long dark hair kept his face neutral.

“Hiya! I’m James and this is Sirius,” James said, moving what was in his hand so that he could wave. “We run the bakery downstairs. We just came to introduce ourselves and bring you these!”

Remus took the container when James offered it, still a little bit stunned by the whole thing, and opened it up. Inside was an assortment of baked goods. “Oh. Thank you,” Remus said, a little bit at a loss for words. “This is really nice.”

Remus was suddenly struck by the fact that two very attractive men were on his doorstep and Remus was wearing the same hoodie he’d worn for three days. He couldn’t even remember the last time he’d put on deodorant. Embarrassed beyond belief, Remus felt his cheeks flush.

“Aren’t you going to say anything?” James prompted his friend, shoving at Sirius’ shoulder.

“Hi,” Sirius said, running his fingers through his shoulder-length hair.

Remus swallowed thickly and quickly put the container of goodies down. He didn’t trust his shaking hands not to drop them. “Nice to meet you.”

“Whoa, are you an artist?” James asked, noticing the pen in Remus’ hand. “Do you think you could design something for us?”

“James, don’t impose,” Sirius said, crossing his arms over his chest.

“I’m not imposing!” James insisted, turning and shooting Sirius a look. “We’ll pay for the work. It’s just right now our menus are so bland! They don’t really say ‘Padfoot and Prongs’ Patisserie.”

“That’s a fancy name,” Remus said, tucking the pen behind his ear so that he could shove his hands in his pockets. Suddenly they’d gotten all sweaty.

“Yeah well, this wanker is half French, so he wouldn’t let me call it a pastry shop,” James said teasingly. “By the way, you haven’t told us your name.”

“Oh,” Remus said, realizing that James was right. He shuffled his feet slightly and kind of wished James and Sirius would leave. He hadn’t had such a long social interaction in months. This was getting to be a bit much, and James’ enthusiasm was draining. “Remus. Remus Lupin.”

“So do you think you can design something for our menus?” James asked excitedly, his hazel eyes big behind his glasses.

“Um, sure, I’ll take a stab at it,” Remus offered, even though he kind of didn’t want to. He had deadlines to meet and he was already a little behind. But then James and Sirius had brought him baked goods without having even met Remus before. Besides, how hard could designing a menu be?

“Great!” James said, slapping Sirius on the back. “Isn’t that great, Padfoot?”

Sirius sighed. “Sure is.”

Remus pulled out his wallet and handed James one of his business cards. It had been Benjy’s idea that Remus get them. This was only the second Remus had even given out. The first one had been given the Benjy. What a waste of money.

“My email is at the bottom,” Remus explained, pointing to it on the card. “Just send me the details of what you want and I’ll work something up.”

Sirius tilted his head to the side. “What are your rates?”

“Um…” Fuck, Remus hadn’t exactly thought about it. He knew what he charged per page on his web comic but this was completely different. “How about you just, um, let me get a free baked good from time to time and we’ll call it even?”

“Of course!” James said, nodding emphatically.

“Hold on,” Sirius interjected, putting his hand up to stop James. “For the rest of time you want free shit from us? Just for a doodle?”

“Sirius –“ James cut in, his face slightly aghast at his friend’s harsh tone.

“I – I won’t abuse it or anything,” Remus said, feeling his face heat. Christ, the way Sirius was looking at him made him nervous. “It won’t be every day or anything like that.”

Sirius huffed and turned his face away. “Fine. But I reserve the right to cut you off.”

“Okay.”

“Perfect,” James said, tugging on Sirius’ arm. “We should get back downstairs. We’ve still got a lot to do before we open. I’ll email you later, Remus!”

“Sounds good,” Remus said, waving after them as they started down the fire escape. The moment he closed the door, he felt like he could breathe a little easier. He didn’t know what Sirius’ problem was, but the fewer interactions Remus had with him the better.

***

Remus finished up the latest update for his comic and sat back with a groan. It was already 10:30 at night and Remus hadn’t had any dinner. For once he had been in a good flow and hadn’t wanted to stop. Now his stomach was so empty it hurt. He couldn’t remember eating breakfast either.

He walked over to where he had left the baked good James had dropped off and carried the container into bed. He sat munching on them as he scrolled through his phone. He had eaten about half of them when he remembered James was supposed to contact him. He pulled up his email and sure enough there was a message from James Potter.

Apparently they wanted something kind of classy involving a buck and a black dog. Remus was intrigued, and popped a custard crème into his mouth. Their stuff really was mouth-wateringly good. Remus was glad he had asked for pastries instead of cash. While he could use the money, he tended to live on instant noodles and bacon sandwiches. Having something from the bakery from time to time would be a real treat.

***

Remus’ flat was on the top floor of the building and it meant he had almost exclusive rooftop access. He hadn’t done much with it except put out a table and two chairs. He really only went out there to smoke anyway. He stood by the side of the roof with his elbows on the ledge, watching the street below, his cigarette resting between his lips.

Sirius exited the bakery and walked down the side alley of the building. He seemed to be having a heated discussion with someone on the phone. Remus felt himself tracking Sirius with his eyes, even though he didn’t mean to.

“Damn it, Reg, I already told you –“ Sirius seemed to be cut off by the other person on the phone. “I don’t care if they cut me off. I’m not going on a blind date that my mum set up with a woman! I haven’t lived in that house for five years and she still thinks she can control me. Now she’s even roping you into it.”

Remus felt a bit bad for eavesdropping, but the street was relatively quiet at that time of day, so it was difficult not to hear. Remus wondered why Sirius had said woman like that, as if he were offended by being set up with someone female. Remus didn’t want to get his hopes up that Sirius might also be gay. Thinking that was a dangerous route to go down. He tried to finish up his cigarette and go back inside before he was spotted, but it seemed Sirius was done with his conversation. He dropped his phone by his side and looked up at the sky. His eyes seemed to immediately land on Remus and Remus felt his cheeks heat up in response. He took a slow drag of his ciggy and let it out, letting his eyes drift away as if he hadn’t just been staring.

He wasn’t wholly surprised when he heard footsteps making their way up the fire escape. He finished his cigarette and lit another one. He usually didn’t chain smoke like this, considering all the nicotine often made him dizzy, due to how little he ate most days. He turned when Sirius made it onto the roof and somehow managed to meet Sirius’ accusing stare.

“How much of that did you hear?” Sirius asked, slipping his phone into his pocket.

Remus scratched his cheek with his free hand. “Uh, the whole thing?”

Sirius sighed and rubbed his forehead. “Can I bum one of those?”

Remus opened the pack and shook one out towards Sirius. Sirius slid it between his lips and leaned in when Remus flicked the lighter to light it. Remus hadn’t noticed it the first time they met, but Sirius had grey eyes. Remus had never seen someone with eyes like that before.

Remus had no idea what to say, so he just continued smoking, watching Sirius out of his peripheral vision. It was a little awkward, but not unbearably so, and it seemed Sirius was happy to smoke in silence. Sirius’ apron was covered in flour, and what Remus hoped was jam of some kind. not something more nefarious based on its red colour. The last thing he needed was a Sweeney Todd situation in his building.

Remus and Sirius finished their cigarettes at the same time and both killed them in the ashtray. They were standing so close, should to shoulder, and Remus had no idea why that made his heart race. He turned towards Sirius in order to say his goodbyes, and suddenly Sirius was even closer.

“Well, I should –“

Remus didn’t finish that sentence as Sirius was leaning in. He was moving with intent and his lips just barely brushed against Remus’. Remus gasped, the sound getting swallowed up as Sirius’ lips pressed more firmly against Remus’. Remus let himself enjoy it for a moment, Christ, it had been so long since he’d kissed someone, before he brought himself back to his sense.

“What are you doing?” he demanded, pushing Sirius away.

Sirius’ eyes searched Remus’ for a moment and then he took another step back. “Fuck, I – I’m sorry. I don’t even have an excuse.”

Remus grinned as he watched Sirius flounder for a moment. He decided to let Sirius off the hook. It was just a little kiss after all. “Hey, I’m almost done with the menu design. Do you want to see it?”

The tension in Sirius’ shoulders ebbed at Remus’ offer. “Yeah, sure.”

Remus told Sirius to sit down at the little table while Remus went inside to get his tablet. He brought it out and sat down across from Sirius. He opened up the menu design and placed it in front of Sirus. He was actually a little nervous as Sirius looked it over. It was a buck and a dog running through a forest surrounded by berry bushes. James had explained in the email that their homemade jam was a huge selling point for them and they wanted the menu to emphasize that.

“It’s not too dark, is it?” Remus asked, chewing his bottom lip.

“No, I think it’s perfect.” Sirius glanced up, and for the first time Remus had seen, Sirius smiled. “We’re doing a soft opening in two days. You should come.”

“Will I have to pay?” Remus teased, resting his chin in his hand and looking at Sirius.

Sirius laughed. “Fine, you don’t have to pay. What kind of pastry do you like best? I’ll make it for you.”

Remus considered it for a moment. “Jammy dodgers.”

Sirius’ grin widened. “You got it.”

***

Remus went to the soft opening, even though he hadn’t been around that many people in a while, and it put his social anxiety through the roof. He met James’ wife, Lily, and their son, Harry. He also met quite a few of James and Sirius’ closest friends. Even though everyone was very nice, Remus couldn’t help feeling a bit like an outsider.

However, Remus didn’t miss the way that his jammy dodgers seemed to be the only ones with little hearts in the middle. That knowledge alone was enough to make him stick around.

***

Remus was in trouble. His web comic was about a werewolf and a vampire that fell in love with each other. The werewolf character struck a striking resemblance to Remus, although the character had Remus’ original hair colour. The idea had come to him based on his name. The vampire character, however, had short dark hair and red eyes. Yet, whenever Remus found himself drawing him, his hair seemed to be getting progressively longer for no discernable reason and his eyes seemed to be grey.

It didn’t help that Remus saw Sirius pretty much every day. During his lunch break, Sirius would bring up something from the bakery, and they would sit together at the little table and eat and smoke. Remus had gotten to know Sirius, little by little, cracking away at Sirius’ shell to the gooey center underneath. Despite his first impression of Sirius, and his original cold exterior, Remus found the man himself was mushy and romantic and sweet.

Remus told Sirius about the fact that he’d always meant to make a little rooftop garden, but as of yet hadn’t really gotten around to buying any plants. Sirius showed up the next day with a little tree.

“It’s called Dogwood,” he’d said with a knowing grin. He had continued to buy Remus several flowers and plants since then. He’d even brought some herbs for cooking, even though Remus insisted he didn’t really cook. Every time Sirius and Remus found a place for the new plant, Sirius would get that same smile. A smile that had started to cause butterflies in Remus’ stomach.

There was no talk about the conversation Remus had overheard or of the kiss they’d shared. Remus figured both topics were off limits.

Maybe that’s why he couldn’t get Sirius out of his head.

***

Remus dropped his head back and groaned. “I told you if you didn’t stop me I would eat all six éclairs.”

“An impressive feat,” Sirius said, grinning behind his wine glass as he took a sip.

“I hate you,” Remus said, scrubbing his hand over his face. He was starting to sweat a bit from overeating. “I’m going to put on so much weight.”

��You could use some more meat on your bones,” Sirius responded with a shrug. “You barely eat as it is.”

“I was right, this is a Sweeney Todd situation, you’re fattening me up to put me in a pie,” Remus bemoaned, clutching his stomach. That last éclair had really done him in.

“We don’t even serve meat pies at the bakery,” Sirius said in amusement. “I think you’re safe.”

“I’m not buying it,” Remus said, staring at Sirius accusingly. “Why else would you bring me all these sweets?”

Sirius glanced away, twirling his wine glass between his fingers. “For an excuse to come see you.”

“Oh,” Remus said, a blush rising to his cheeks. “Really?”

Sirius stood up and walked over to Remus, placing his hand on the back of Remus’ chair, and leaning into him. “So, I made a mess of our first kiss. Think you might let me try again?”

“Um.” Remus stared up at Sirius and let out a shaky breath. “Yes. W-we can do that.”

Sirius slid his fingers through Remus’ curls until his hand came to rest at the back of Remus’ head. Then he guided their lips together into a soft kiss. Remus opened his mouth first, and Sirius was quick to follow suit, their tongues meeting in a mixture of chocolate, wine and cigarettes. Remus eagerly chased the taste from Sirius’ mouth.

Sirius pulled back after a few life-altering moments. Remus felt his eyes flutter open to find that Sirius was smiling at him. God, Remus loved it when Sirius smiled. “I could eat you up, I really could,” Sirius sang softly.

Remus busted out laughing. “Do not sing Sweeney Todd at me when you’re trying to be romantic.”

Sirius chuckled and pulled Remus up into a hug. “Noted. Should I just tell you I love you then?”

Remus hugged Sirius back, burying his face in Sirius’ neck, ignoring the deep blush currently on his face. “I-I think that would work.”

“Well?” Sirius asked expectantly, turning his face and pressing a kiss to Remus’ forehead.

Remus hugged Sirius tighter. “I love you too.”

Remus stood there, in a moment so like a fairy tale that he didn’t want it to end, wishing he could freeze time. He stood in the moonlight, embracing the man he had come to adore, surrounded by all the plants Sirius had bought just for him. It felt like more than Remus deserved, but he wasn’t about to let it go. He could only hope the next moment would be just as sweet.

#wolfstar #I write things #fluff #bakery au #can you tell I just read The Baker On the First Floor?#sirius black x remus lupin #I don't know why there's so many sweeney todd references in this #they just kind of happened #long post #background jily #pink haired Remus inspired by Fel #artist Remus #baker Sirius #smoking

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nanoland · 3 years ago

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new chapter (hellblazer fic)

(earlier parts are here; whole thing is here)

The Cave, part 10

John Constantine + The First of the Fallen, gen fic (for now), no warnings

‘In the desert,’ John thought, unsure quite why, ‘I saw a creature.’

Nicotine withdrawal was becoming a problem.

So was exhaustion.

His feet told him he’d been walking over uneven rock for around six hours – which couldn’t be right, surely? – while his brain had that sludgy feeling that usually resulted from forty-eight hours without sleep – and that was definitely wrong because he’d been dead recently enough that the blood was still drying on his trenchcoat, and dead was basically the same as being asleep.

To make matters worse, he was overdue to take his antidepressants, hidden in one of his trench’s seven secret pockets. Hated swallowing them dry, was the thing, and he didn’t have a cup of tea or glass of water to hand.

And then there was this arsehole to contend with.

“I’m following the example set by blessed Saint Anthony,” he told John insistently, clutching his shoulders. “You know, of course, that he went into the desert.”

“Did he, now?”

“Indeed! To purify himself. To get closer to God the Almighty, praise His name.”

Leaning against the cave wall, the First of the Fallen rolled his eyes.

‘Naked, bestial, squatting upon the ground’, John thought, the rest of the poem coming to him in drips and drabs.

He rubbed grit from his left eye. “Saint Anthony. Desert. Demons. Right, I remember. Legenda Aurea. Jacobus de Varagine. Wise old Ant took up the life of a holy hermit – settled down a million miles from civilisation and survived off grass and rainwater.”

“Oh, yes, of course. Foregoing nutrition and bodily hygiene is an entirely necessary step in reconnecting with the Creator,” the First of the Fallen mused. “John, I’ll be honest; this person bores me. Would you mind terribly if I killed him?”

“Shut up. Where was I? Yeah, Anthony was attacked by demons and he ran to hide in a cave. They followed him in and beat the shit out of him. His friends dragged him out and patched him up, whereupon the infuriating shit announced that he’d be going back in to let the demons beat the shit out of him some more.”

The First of the Fallen chortled and clapped. “Splendid! Another essential element of piety; masochism.”

“Will you shut it? Anyway, then God finally pulled his finger out and made the demons flee. Anthony asked where the fuck he’d been earlier and God said, basically, that he’d wanted to wait and see if Anthony would chicken out or not. Which… yeah, that’s about what I’ve come to expect.”

How did the rest go? Right: ‘I saw a creature, naked and bestial, who, squatting upon the ground, held his heart in his hands. And ate of it.’

The artist prodded the would-be saint’s shoulder, making him yelp. “In God’s name! Who are you? What are you?”

She said something that the First of the Fallen translated as, “Why do you smell so awful?”

At that, the saint scowled. “I am punishing my sinful flesh by shunning earthly pleasures and indulgences. If God wishes me dirty, then I shall be dirty.”

The First of the Fallen translated that, then translated her reply as, “‘You are utterly mad. Please remain at a distance.’ I must say, John, I agree. Of all my Father’s sycophants, none ever annoyed me half so much as the ascetics.”

John shrugged. “Eh. More palatable than a lot of holy rollers, if you ask me. I’ll take a brainsick, grubby lad like this over a fashy grifter running a megachurch any day. What’s your name, kid?”

“Edmund.”

“And these demons who were bothering you… are they still here? Can you point ‘em out to me?”

“No. They disappeared when I laid eyes on you. That’s why I assumed you were angels.”

“Yes, well, much as I’d like to take credit for that, Eddie, and contrary to popular opinion, demons don’t actually turn tail at the sight of me. More often these days, they point and laugh. And I’m not really getting a whiff of anything infernal, save for His Nibs over there. I think you might have hallucinated ‘em, mate. Understandable. Stuck down here with no food, water, or company, hell, my brain would start to make its own entertainment too.”

The First of the Fallen stretched. “For my part, I certainly wouldn’t ask a single one of my minions to waste their time tormenting an inconsequential little wretch like you.”

“Jesus, you – would you back off?” John shouted, overprotective and aware of it, feeling his face contort into a snarl.

Stupid. The bastard was only doing it to rile him up. He knew that. He’d known it for decades.

Only perhaps not, because the temperature dropped and the air grew thin. Many-limbed shadows danced along the cave walls as John’s nemesis seemed to grow a metre. The stink of butchered meat swelled in his nostrils.

Then it was over. Scowling, the First of the Fallen tossed his hair back like a sulky diva and stalked away, grumbling, “Fine. Enjoy your fascinating new friends.”

The artist watched him leave, eyebrows high, then shook her head, said something derisive-sounding, and opened up the goatskin pouch she wore at her waist. From it, she withdrew a handful of nuts and berries. These were presented to the saint and to John with a two-word sentence; evidently an instruction.

Eyes narrowed, the saint whispered to John, “Has this female been sent to… to test me?”

“Eat your nuts and don’t be a twat, there’s a good lad,” John muttered.

He left them to get better acquainted and wandered after the First.

Upon finding him pacing with his arms tight across his chest a little way down the tunnel, he said, “‘Is it good, friend?’”

The First of the Fallen snorted. “‘It is bitter – bitter.’”

“‘But I like it,’” John continued, smirking. “‘Because it is bitter.’”

“‘And because it is my heart,’” they finished together.

John leaned against the cave wall. “Gimme a ciggie.”

“Bloody addict,” he muttered, snapping his fingers. They appeared in his left hand and he chucked them John’s way.

John lit up, conscious of hungry yellow eyes watching him, and sucked in a gorgeous lungful before exhaling with a borderline-indecent sigh. (Pretended not to notice how the First’s throat bobbed.)

“So how many memories do we think this cave has?”

“Hundreds. Thousands. I can smell them everywhere. Those two just happen to be among the most visible, probably because they were stupid enough to become deeply emotionally attached to this ghastly place.”

“It’s one of them locations what acts like ghost flypaper, then? Hmm. And my dicking about with magic got it all discombobulated and upset.”

“Most likely.”

“It’s probably not that inclined to let me out, then. Which would explain why we’ve been walking for ages and haven’t reached daylight.”

“Indeed.”

“But you could leave. If you wanted to. Highly doubt some grumpy old hole in the ground has the power to imprison you.”

“I could, yes.”

“Haven’t, though. Why’s that?”

“Constantine, the day I feel compelled to explain my actions to you is the day I willingly surrender my crown to Nergal and settle comfortably into the grave.”

John laughed, walked up to him, took the cigarette from his lips, and offered it. “The day you need to is the day I settle in right alongside you.”

Nose wrinkling, he took it and gave it an experimental suck. Then he made a face, smoke spilling from his lips, before handing it back. “Revolting.”

“Eh. Acquired taste.”

#hellblazer #john constantine #first of the fallen #constantine #fanfic #my fic

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siserary933043 · 3 years ago

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Caravan of love

God I need a cigarette! I gasped as I collapsed, exhausted, at the top of the small mountain my team had just hiked up in the Lake District.

Youre supposed to be setting us a good example. Khalid laughed as he flopped down next to me quickly followed by his two schoolmates.

Fu…To Hell with that! I laughed, I deserve one after a walk like that.

Still laughing at me puffing and panting the boys whispered something, then Khalid turned to me and asked nervously; Do you really want a smoke?

I was supposed to have given up…but…yes… at this minute I would absolutely love one. I replied.

Jonny, he turned to his friend, give her one.

Id love to; but will a fag do? The good looking teenager giggled.

When the penny dropped that Khalid had made an innuendo the laughter got even louder.

You boys will get me the sack! I chided them as I took the cigarette from the packet. Jonny knelt beside me as he lit it in his best James Bond manner.

Youre leaving anyway, the other boy, Fletcher, corrected me.

He was correct; this was my last day as a teacher in the UK and I was only doing this course as a favour to the Headmaster.

Im Nina and Im a 25yr old supply teacher in the North of England. Because I was sick of not knowing which school Id be at from one week to the next I was catching a train home to Bishop Stortford the next afternoon after Id safely put my three teenage charges on the coach home to Newcastle. Id been at this school 7 times in the last three years and had developed a good reputation among the pupils and staff, but knew that there was no chance that Id ever get a full-time job.

Every year twelve schools from the Newcastle area take part in an outward bound competition in the Lake District spread over four days. The Headmaster at Ponteland Comprehensive, where Id been teaching since January, was desperate for his school to do well for once; but Mr. Winnet who was meant to be in charge of a team of four had hurt his back so I was corralled into spending four days climbing hills, canoeing, orienteering and walking through rivers with three hormonally challenged 15 year olds while getting paid for it!

I already knew the three boys in the team from my time as their stand-in Maths teacher and hadnt had any real problems with them; even though they were all from the notorious Darras Hall Estate. These three were regarded as ‘saveable by the Headmaster and the course was their reward for 100% attendance and working hard.

Im a naturally sporty type of girl; so with my help and leadership we had been ‘neck and neck with Scotswood Grammar School and climbing this hill in the fastest time meant that we were the Champions!

Youd better finish that quick, miss! Jonny shouted, Walker Academy is nearly here.

Khalid and I took a last puff from our cigarettes and made a drama out of stubbing them out and wafting away the tell-tale smell of smoke, although there was a gale nearly blowing us away.

I grinned and shook my head when I read the sticker on the boys caravan door – ‘If the caravans a-rockin; dont come aknockin! Hardly appropriate for a group of schoolboys; I thought.

Whats going on here? I asked as I suspiciously sniffed the air in their caravan when I went to collect them to go to the evening meal and presentation.

Nothing, Miss. They all chimed in unison.

If thats what I think it is, you really will get me sacked. I tried not to grin as I definitely smelt dope in the air.

The boys didnt admit to anything and we made our way across the muddy field to the main building. It was quite a distance as we had been allocated two caravans at the far end of a large field; the other schools had large tents closer to the main building and toilet block.

You look nice miss. Khalid told me as we walked past the other schools tents.

Thank you, I smiled in appreciation, a girl never knows what her luck will be like in a place like this.

I did actually; even though I was wearing a nice short denim skirt and a fitted zip-up hooded top there was absolutely no way I was going to pull on my last night as an English school teacher. The best looking guy was obviously gay and the other teachers and the instructors all looked down their noses at my team as they were from a rough council estate that didnt fit into their ‘elite club.

After dinner and the short ceremony we tried to mingle with some of the other teams but when I had to stop Jonny from hitting a taller boy from Scotswood I thought that a tactical retreat was called for.

Have you got any of that stuff left that I didnt smell earlier? I asked Khalid as I pinned Jonny to the wall as a teacher from Jesmond led a whimpering boy away claiming that Jonny was ‘going to kill him.

He nervously looked at Jonny who was their natural leader; then nodded nervously, Why Miss?

I think that this young man needs to relax and, if memory serves me right, that should do the trick!

Youre cool, Miss, Fletcher told me, with a lop-sided grin, for a teacher!

I asked what he meant by that and the boys all told me why they liked me above all of the other teachers as we wandered back to their caravan.

The boys were being trusted not to wreck the van as they should have been chaperoned by Mr Winnet but he had got the train home earlier in the day.

As Khalid unlocked the door he turned and grinned, Weve got some booze too!

Why am I not surprised? I chuckled as I took a seat in the middle of the bay window.

Khalid brought his large rucksack in from the bedroom as Jonny produced a tin with 5 spliffs in it from his.

I shook my head in mild disbelief as they poured large measures of vodka into tumblers and topped it up with coke from the ceremony.

Where did this come from? I asked as I put the glass to my lips, I know you didnt bring it with you; we checked your bags.

This morning; when you were putting Winnet on the train, he grinned mischievously, I robbed two bottles and some cider out of the shop over the road.

The boys let out a cheer as I shook my head in mock disbelief.

Jonny opened his tin and offered me one of the spliffs.

Id rather have a ciggie if someone has one. I shrugged my shoulders, Ill have one of those later!

As we sipped the vodka and coke the boys bombarded me with questions: ‘Did I have a boyfriend? ‘Why was I leaving? ‘What was my home town like? ‘What was university like? ‘Had I ever taken drugs? ‘Did I have any tattoos or piercings?

It was fun talking to them and I tried to be as honest as possible as they genuinely wanted to know what life was like away from their town. I admitted to smoking dope and occasionally dropping a couple of Es and I had three tattoos; showing them the Angel on my shoulder and the Celtic design on my lower back but letting them guess where the other one was.

When Id finished my large glass of vodka and coke we all lit up the spliffs…WOW…Id forgotten how good that stuff could be and how powerful.

My head was spinning when Fletcher handed me a second large glass of vodka.

My legs were now curled underneath and I began asking about their lives. It wasnt long before they started talking about girls.

As the drink and dope began to take effect we were all in a giggly mood and the boys became braver as they talked about the girls and other female teachers in very personal terms.

I began by admitting to being quite wild at University but not actually telling them exactly what Id done – just letting them guess; which was fun.

The boys quickly became excited when I didnt blush or rein them in so their questions soon became very sexy and personal.

‘Did I play with myself? ‘Did I use sex toys? ‘Had I ever been with another girl? ‘Had I ever seen a porn film? ‘Do you suck cock, Miss?

Without hesitating I replied, Yes or of course, to just about everything.

The boys were all grinning and had twinkles in their eyes as they continued asking me about my sex life and confessed to all sorts of things that theyd been getting up to with the girls at school who Id previously thought relatively innocent! How wrong I was!

Jonny told me that Nadia gave the best blow-jobs because her tongue was pierced but Carly would let them cum on her face.

Apparently at least five girls in 5c, including both Thompson twins, had shaved their pubes off! I couldnt remember if I even had pubes at that age!

Their dirty language and descriptions were now making me very, very horny and I was beginning to think I should leave them as I really needed to frig myself.

What do girls think about when they play with themselves? Fletcher asked.

All sorts, I guess. I answered then took a draw on the last spliff that Khalid had passed to me.

Like fantasies? he continued.

Yes, I raised my eyebrows in mock amazement, girls have sexy fantasies just like guys.

All three looked genuinely amazed and it was only then that I remembered how young and immature they really were.

So what are your fantasies Miss? Jonny asked me.

Ooh, I couldnt possibly say. I said as coyly as possible.

I nearly gave the game away when Khalid immediately started talking about him and his elder brother roasting a girl as her 15th birthday present.

By this time I was permanently squirming in my seat and I was sure that Jonny and Khalid were looking up my skirt and could see my red panties. They certainly made no attempt to hide their bulges that where poking through their jogging pants as they moved into the corner of the sofa for a clearer look.

Im going to have to go for a wank now! Jonny snorted as he thrust his hands inside his pants and finally adjusted his hard dick. I uncurled my legs to make myself more comfortable; making sure that they got an unobstructed flash of my soaking knickers and hopefully some of my gash as I knew my pussy would be sucking the gusset in.

Would you like me to do that for you? I smiled.

The poor kid didnt know what to do or say.

Im serious, I beamed, as I took another slurp of vodka, do you want me to wank you off?

The boys nervously looked at each other, unable to comprehend what Id just said.

I manoeuvred until I was kneeling on the sofa and facing the 15 year old schoolboys.

Oh come on guys, I pleaded as I slowly unzipped my top, youve got to know how horny youve made me.

The boys were still silent but now grinning madly.

Ill show you mine if youll show me yours. I giggled as I took my top off then seductively cupped and stroked my tits through my pale blue lacy Wonderbra.

Ive always had nice tits…no thats not quite right…I have fucking lovely tits…everyone says so! They are medium sized (32b), firm and pliable clay and my nipples poke up to the sky. They have passed ‘the pencil test several times!

Jonny shrugged his shoulders and pulled the waistband of his pants down with one hand and waved his prick at me with the other.

Mmmm, that looks nice. I purred as I unhooked my bra and let it fall to the caravan floor. Do you like my tits?

The boys nervously nodded. Jonny and Khalid were still in front of me but Fletcher was sitting slightly behind getting a good view of my arse as well as a side view of my tits.

Get your cocks out and Ill show you my tattoo! I teased as I unbuttoned the side of my skirt.

Khalid quickly whipped his out closely followed by Fletcher. Their cocks looked gorgeous; Khalids was about 6 inches long and quite thick and a lot darker than his olive skin – I couldnt wait to suck it! Jonnys was about the same length but not as fat and Fletchers was short and fat – just like him.

I could feel the sweat running down my back as I stood up and let my skirt fall to the floor. The boys couldnt take their eyes off me as I slowly pulled the front of my knickers down so that they could see my hairy pie and my little red devil tattoo but not quite everything.

I dropped my chin onto my chest, fluttered my eyelashes as innocently as possible and told them, Well, Ive seen yours…would you like to see mine?

Fuck yes! Fletcher gasped as he stroked his cock. Actually they were all slowly masturbating in a well practiced manner. Thats another thing about me…I love watching guys play with themselves…as long as there is some left for me.

It took a tug to prize my knickers out of my sticky pussy but Khalids jaw nearly hit the floor when he saw the long string of juice that was stuck to the gusset!

I slowly looked around the caravan at my three students. They were like putty in my hands as they devoured my naked body with their eyes – they were going to be my sexual play-things for the rest of the night.

Do you still want me to …wank you off? I suggestively licked my lips and met Jonnys gaze, or would you like me suck it?

Ooh, Miss…suck me off…PLEASE MISS! Jonny pleaded.

I rested my knee on the seat and leant forward, jiggling my tits for him when I gently wrapped my fingers around his hot pink shaft. Perhaps it was stage-fright but it wasnt as hard now as when he had first flashed it at me; but I would soon put that right.

Does that feel good? I asked. The boy grinned and nodded. Lets see if the Teachers better at sucking cocks than her pupils?

Ahughaghaghooohhh. He groaned when I covered his swollen plum and kept on pushing until his squishy cock filled my mouth and my chin touched his hairy bollocks.

God his young cock tasted lovely…all hot and sweaty just how I like them. Years of practice came in useful as I began fucking his cock with my mouth as I breathed through my nose. Just as I hoped it instantly began to stiffen and filled my mouth so I had to eventually let most of it glide out so I could suck him comfortably and stroke his shaft and balls.

My head was spinning as I put on a show for his friends; slurping and sucking his dick like a porn actress.

Squeeze my tits! I whispered in between slurps.

Jonny slid his hand around my neck and began caressing my breast; making me gasp when he touched the nipple.

Squeeze them harder! I pleaded, Dig your fingers into my tits!

Oh fuck! he gasped but obeyed, digging his nails into my flesh and shaking my puppies like a kitten with a ball of wool.

When I felt his balls tighten and his breathing became shallower I tightly gripped the base of his shaft and making sure my breath engulfed his knob I looked up into his glazed eyes.

Miss! Im cumming! He warned me, MISS! My balls are aching…Im cumming!

Do you want to cum on the Teachers face? I teased Youd like that wouldnt you? Spunking all over her face!

Yes, yes, yes! He winced and manically nodded his head as I flicked my tongue across his japs-eye.

Go on then, I whispered as I furiously rubbed his shaft and aimed his piss-hole at my face.

I too was now squealing with delight as he tried to pull my nipple out of its roots when the first jet of hot teenage spunk splashed across my face, then another and the third landed in my eye.

Oh God! Oh fucking God…Miss! He gasped as I sucked the last dregs of salty spunk out of his cock.

Delirious with desire I raised myself up onto my feet. As his spunk dripped down my face I asked, Who wants to be next?

Me Miss! Me Miss! Fletcher shouted as he raised his arm in the air for attention, forgetting that he wasnt in class.

I picked my knickers off the floor and wiped the excess cum off my face then lay down next to him with my face in his lap.

His short stubby cock looked lovely as I licked some bitter pre-cum out of his tip.

As I stroked his cock I turned to the other two, I need one of you to lick my cunt.

They both looked shocked that Id used the C word. It hadnt dawned on me that the boys and I had probably used every other word in the dictionary during our sexy chat but at this moment in time it wasnt a vagina or a pussy between my legs it was a CUNT a hot and horny CUNT that needed a good tonguing.

Jonny instantly knelt on the floor and pulled my legs apart; staring at my hot pink gash.

Ive never done this before, Miss. What do I do? He looked at me excitedly.

Just lick it like its an ice cream then, I told him as I pulled the sticky flaps apart to expose my clitoris which was sticking out like a third nipple, then flick your tongue like crazy over that.

Ill try my best miss. He said in a soft voice. Even the boys calling me ‘Miss was becoming such a fucking turn-on!

Oooooohhhhh yeesssss! I moaned when he made his tongue glide up my groove.

He was a fucking natural; his untrained tongue lapped up my love juices and he sucked on my labia as his fingers stroked and caressed the inside of my thighs and the crack of my arse.

After a minute or so I bent over to greedily eat Fletchers fat prick. We moaned and groaned in unison as his cock fit perfectly into my mouth and Jonnys tongue fit perfectly into my sopping cunt.

Yeh….yeh…yeh…yeh! Fletcher kept gasping as he twirled my around his fingers as my mouth created a vacuum around his dick.

Without using words I made him spread his legs so I could get a tight grip on his hairless sack while I bobbed my head and swirled my tongue around the purple knob.

Oohya! I yelped when Jonnys tongue suddenly touched my clit making me jump and I let the cock slip out of my mouth.

YES….YES…YES! I cried out, Finger me! Finger me!

Jonny dutifully poked my twat with a long middle finger giving me a little bit of relief as I returned to my oral administrations on his fat friend.

Fletcher grabbed two handfuls of hair and began bouncing in his seat as he fucked my mouth. I met each thrust with a bob of my head as Jonny did wonderful things to my cunt and clit with his fingers and tongue.

My whole body seemed to convulse as I gave and received oral at both ends.

Aaaaaggghhh! Fletcher gasped as he neared orgasm.

More fingers! I shouted to Jonny as my own fingers furiously wanked the fat cock until it showered my face with thick lumpy spunk.

He inserted a second then a third finger and viciously licked my throbbing clit until I panted for air then WOW!!!! A mind blowing orgasm flooded my body. I didnt scream or cry out like I usually do…I just grinned myself silly as the sweetest feeling in the world engulfed my whole being as Fletcher covered my lips with solid globules of sticky cum.

My orgasm left me shattered so I flopped back against the cushions and gently stroked my tingling cunt for their amusement.

Khalid was now standing naked in the middle of the floor stroking a stiffy that looked like it was going to burst.

Come here baby, I whispered and patted the cushion nearest my head, and Teacher will take care of that ache for you!

He didnt need telling twice and was soon waving his dark uncut cock in front of my face. I couldnt wait either and immediately filled my mouth with my third rock hard teenage cock.

My tits…my tits! I moaned, Do what Jonny did and squeeze Teachers titties for her…nice and hard…hurt me!

His hairy olive fingers were soon mauling my mounds as I sucked his dark pipe for him.

Oh yes…thats good! I grunted with a mouth full of cock as he stretched my pink rosebud nipples as far as they would go, making me suck the life out of his young dong.

As the third boy to get his cock sucked I knew that he wouldnt last as long as the others and I was right. Khalid soon grabbed my head and forced his long thin dick past my tonsils and came straight into the back of my throat and down my neck.

I was now insatiable and judging by the three hard cocks that were in front of me so were they!

Now… fuck me! I called to Jonny as I lay flat on my back and spread my legs for my young lover, curling one ankle over the back cushion so that my hairy cunt was on show to the whole world.

With a huge grin on his face he knelt between my splayed legs and eagerly guided his six inches of throbbing cock into my willing hole.

Ooohhh yes baby! I panted as his cock filled me up, does that feel good fucking your teacher?

Yes Miss it does, he chuckled as he began thrusting his hips and forcing his cock into my belly, Its fucking…fucking amazing!

My head was shaking from side to side and I was playing with my over sensitive tits as Jonny proved to me that he hadnt been lying about fucking lots of girls at his tender age…he was quite a swordsman.

Fuck her mouth, Jonny told the others, one of you fuck her mouth…lets roast her!

The smile on my face would have lit up London when Khalid suddenly appeared next to my face and forced his cock past my lips for a second time.

I was in raptures as Jonny forced my legs back until my knees touched my tits making his long thick cock tickle the inside of my belly and the darker boy grasped two large handfuls of my mousey brown hair as he wildly fucked my mouth and throat. All I had to do was lie back and enjoy it as they now treat me as their sexual plaything for nearly fifteen minutes.

Jonny hadnt cum and sweat was pouring from his face when Fletcher begged him ‘for a go!

Okay, he panted, but Im not finished with her.He had hardly pulled his cock out when Fletcher lunged forward.

Wait! I gasped as I pushed Khalid away from my face, let me get on top…I want to cum again.

I positioned Fletcher so he was sitting on the sofa and I straddled him. His thick cock felt wonderful as it stretched my aching cunt. I quickly accustomed myself to his girth and rocked backwards and forward rubbing my clit against his pubic bone as I squashed my tits against his face.

The other two wandered off and opened the bottle of cider as I fucked their fat friend within an inch of his life!

No matter what I did to him; I couldnt cum. I bounced on his cock, I ground down hard, I twisted and rotated, I fucked him fast and I fucked him slow – nothing! I kept getting close but nothing.

I was becoming desperate when I spotted Jonny and Khalid whispering conspiratorially; then giggling like the teenagers that they were.

Jonny stood on the sofa and edged towards me waving his flaccid cock in front of my face. I didnt need asking twice and hungrily gobbled his young meat as I bounced on the fat cock in my cunt.

Id been with two guys at University once and had dreamt of doing it again; never dreaming that it would be with school kids; but tonight it seemed so much sexier and dirtier than in my fantasies; especially because they called it ‘spit-roasting.

If fucking and sucking two cocks was exciting Khalid soon moved the action up a gear!

As I ground my pussy down onto Fletchers cock Khalid began shaking my tits with one hand and stroking and nipping my arse with his other.

Go on. Jonny urged him as he held my head while I sucked and licked his rock hard shaft.

Khalid nervously ran a finger between my arse cheeks and hovered a finger tip over my anus as he rolled my nipple between his fingers then tugged on it just the way I liked.

Go on! Jonny was becoming agitated, Shes not stopping you, is she?

Without any warning he jabbed a bony finger past my sphincter and about in inch or more slid inside my arse making me gasp…with pleasure!

Ugh…ugh…good. I gurgled.

I fucking told you she would like it! Jonny admonished his young friend. Khalid soon realised that I was enjoying having his finger up my arse while the other two ‘roasted me he soon began twisting my nipples and finger fucking my arse with two fingers.

Fletcher broke off from suckling my tit to ask; have you ever been water-tight Miss?

What? I asked as Jonny sat on the top of the cushion watching the action.

Airtight you dozy cunt! The good looking boy laughed, Airtight!

I shook my head and raised my eyebrows to let him know I still didnt know what he meant.

There was a look of surprise then delight on his face as he told me; you take three cocks at once…one in each hole.

Id never heard of such a thing but the crazy grin on my face must have told him that I wanted to try it…NOW!

Right…get up bollocks face, Jonny said as he slapped Fletcher on the shoulder, lets change places.

We took a moment or two to decide who was going where and which would be the most comfortable way to perform this lewd sexual act.

As I gulped down a belly full of cool cider, we agreed that I would fuck Jonny, suck Fletcher and because he had the thinnest cock; Khalid would be the first to fuck my arse!

I was shaking with excitement as I fed Jonnys 6 inches into my well fucked cunt. When I was comfortable Khalid lined the tip of his dick against my puckered anus and spit a gobful of saliva between my cheeks as lubrication. I clung onto Jonny as Khalid slowly worked his cock into my virgin arse-hole.

Agh…ugh…ooh! I grunted through gritted teeth as my arse felt as if it was being torn in two.

Oh shit! The boys gasped in unison.

I can feel your fucking dick touching mine! Jonny giggled as only a thin membrane separated to hard cocks inside my body.

After making sure that the boys wouldnt budge I slowly rotated my hips and gently moved my arse so that their cocks moved a little bit as I became acclimatised to the feeling of being full beyond belief.

Okay, I nervously told them, but be gentle with me.

Thankfully Jonnys position meant that he couldnt be as forceful as he would have liked to be and my arsehole was too tight for Khalid to fuck too fast so I was soon nearly hallucinating with sexual elation.

After a couple of minutes I began to relax and the three of us began moving with a bit more freedom making me groan and moan and gasp and giggle with gratification.

Now…now! I gasped and nodded to Fletcher, Im ready…make me airtight!

Fletcher shuffled along the sofa and placed his purple knob on my bottom lip. I nodded my head and his fat cock stretched my mouth and jaw.

I snorted and gagged but I wasnt going to stop now! I could feel my poop-chute stretch and loosen up with every thrust from Khalid and the more relaxed I became the harder Jonny banged his cock into my cunt from down below.

Fireworks were soon going off in my head and clitoris as I began spontaneously orgasming. Little ones, big ones, short ones long ones…one after another untilI was just hanging on to the boys…like a limp rag.

Yes…yes…YES! Khalid wheezed as he rammed his dick into my arse like a fucking piston then suddenly stopped as he filled my shit-hole with his cream. His cock came out of my arse a lot easier than it went in!

Get off me! Jonny demanded as soon as the other boy stepped away. I want to fuck

your arse.

He virtually pushed me away in his haste to bugger me. As soon as he was standing behind me he forced me back onto my knees and spread my cheeks to view his friends handiwork.

Oh man, he exhaled noisily, that looks so fucking sweet…look… your spunks still coming out!

I was now trembling with anticipation as Jonny tentatively nudged his fat cockhead against my tingling anus. Khalid had stretched my poop-chute but Jonnys cock was definitely fatter and it still wasnt that easy for him to get his knob past my sphincter.

Aaaaahhhgggggg! I howled as he finally plunged his dick into my arse. As soon as the knob entered the rest just slid in like greased lightening. AaaaaaAAAGGGGHHHHHH you bastard! I screamed again when he began fucking my arse as hard as he had my cunt, but it didnt stop him.

I was biting my lip and had my face buried into a cushion to stifle the pain as he pummelled my arse with his thick six inches. The pain was becoming unbearable and electrifying so I didnt want him to stop.

Oh Jonny, Jonny, Jonny!I cried with tears of joy running down my face, Harder baby…harder…fuck my arse…fuck the teachers arse!

The teenager was now grunting like a wild animal as he revelled in the discomfort he was causing me.

Thats it…yes…yes…yes! he groaned as he speeded up just before he too filled my anal cavity with lovely teenage spunk.

When he withdrew his cock I could feel my hole gaping open and the overflowing spunk running down my thighs.

Its your turn now. Jonny wheezed and pushed Fletcher with the extra wide cock forward.

My arse was already stinging from the two buggerings Id just had but when Fletch pushed his fat mushroom in I gasped and felt like Id died and gone to Heaven. This boy was in no hurry and fucked my arse very slowly – each stroke nearly turning it inside out.

Oh baby, baby, I whined, that feels so fucking good. Youre making Teachers arse very, very sore and I fucking love it!

As the other two boys sat in front of me taking it in turns to feed their cocks into my mouth I panted, Thats it…faster…faster…fill my arse with your hot spunk…go on do it!

Hearing my husky voice sent him over the top and I felt my arse get warmer as he filled it with hot spunk.

Over the next hour or so the boys fucked me in every combination imaginable.

When I eventually collapsed, exhausted on the floor, my arse had been fucked ragged and my cunt was nearly worn out and my jaw was aching so much I could hardly speak; but I didnt care…this was the fucking of a fucking lifetime.

Id heard about the staying power of young boys but…shit… these boys were out of this fucking world.

I could hardly move the next morning when I woke up in a sleeping bag next to Jonny. I pulled on my top and skirt and hobbled to the shower block like John Wayne after a 200 mile horse ride.

I stood shivering with aches and pains under the hot shower; hardly able to wash myself as I relived the previous evenings events over and over and over again in my head.Pangs of guilt struck me as I got dressed in my tiny caravan but I reminded myself that the boys had promised to keep what we did a secret (hardly likely – I know) and after all in five days I would be on the other side of the world starting a new life in New Zealand.

https://www.superbestaudiofriends.org/index.php?members/olevridis.10679/#info

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bluesfortheredj · 5 years ago

Text

The bar was busy and you were fighting your way to the front to attempt to buy drinks for the group of people sat around one of the few available tables when Taron appears at your side to help.

“Coming through!” he calls out loudly as he clears a path for you.

“My saviour,” you gush playfully as you finally reach the bar.

“Always one to help a damsel in distress… Plus I really need a drink,” he winks.

You gain the attention of the barman and shout your order to him as you and Taron wait a little awkwardly for the drinks to be served, then as soon as you’ve paid you both take as many as you can carry and return to the table of parched friends.

“Make these last,” Taron advises, “it was a nightmare for poor (Y/N) to get these!”

He takes his seat next to you at the table then the conversation begins to flow around the table, trying your best to catch up with everyone you could before the evening ended and you left it another five months until you all saw one another again.

“Love lives!” Tom shouts triumphantly, slamming his empty glass down on the table.

“Oh god,” most of you groan.

“Come on, T, you’ve gotta be banging models and all sorts right?” Tom smirks across the table at him.

“Yeah, every day mate,” he replies sarcastically, making you laugh.

“Drop a name, go on,” Lou encourages.

“There are no names to drop,” Taron chuckles, “seriously, all this fame stuff is definitely not what you think it is!”

“Alright then, (Y/N), anyone new in your life? How did it go with that guy you were seeing a few months back?”

“Nope, and that went as well as this bloody conversation is going,” you smirk.

“Wow, when did we get so boring?” Lou sighs.

“More drinks!” Tom announces, already standing up and moving awkwardly around the backs of chairs.

Drinking seems to fill the void of conversation for most of the night as you all realise you had nothing interesting to say and were mostly relying on Taron to regale you with tales of meeting famous people and how they acted on set. Thanks to the unusually high consumption of alcohol this evening, within a couple of hours you’re all very merry, and Taron is becoming increasingly tactile with you.

“Dance with me,” he grins with his arm draped around your shoulders.

“You know I don’t dance.”

“Yes you do, I’ve seen you dance. It’s sexy.”

You laugh out loud at his comment and slap your hand down on his thigh as you almost begin to cry with laughter.

“Oh my god, you are so far gone, T!”

“I’m serious!” he beams, resting his head against yours, “come on, show me your sexy moves (Y/N).”

You roll your eyes then allow him to lead you onto the dance floor where he snakes his arms around your waist and holds you close as you sway from side to side. He was drunk, that was for sure, but you couldn’t complain about the fact that he was being very affectionate, and you took full advantage by resting your head on his shoulder as you did your version of dancing. When the song ends and you lift your head from him, he takes your hand and leads you outside into the chilly night air.

“Bloody hell, what are we doing out here?” you ask as you shiver next to him.

He takes his jacket off gallantly and hooks it over your shoulders before rubbing your arms up and down while he stands in front of you with a giddy smile.

“Ciggy?” he offers, slipping a pack out of his jacket.

“Go on then,” you nod.

“I’ve missed this,” he sighs after a few puffs.

“Smoking?”

“No!” he laughs, “us. You and me. Like old times.”

“Yeah,” you smile, “just like when we…”

You pause, thinking back to when you two had dated all those years ago, and you wonder how different your life would be if you’d both stayed together instead of taking a short break which ended up being quite permanent.

“I haven’t been with anyone since,” he admits as he stubs out his cigarette on the floor, “forever hoping my next time will be with you again.”

“Uh… Right...” you stutter, unable to think of an appropriate response to this shocking admission.

“It’s true. The amount of times I’ve come this close,” he holds his fingers only centimetres apart as he stumbles a little, “to ringing you in the middle of the night when I’ve woken from a dream about you. I mean, if I had a pound for every time it happened, I wouldn’t need to act.”

“Taron, you’re drunk-”

“I know what I’m saying,” he frowns, “and I’ll be able to repeat every word of this in the morning.”

“Really?” you ask, cocking an eyebrow as you put out your cigarette as well.

“Absolutely. Give me a cuddle please.”

You grin at him and his adorable request as he opens up his arms ready for you, and you soon fall into his arms as every memory of you both together comes flooding back into your mind, making you oh so nostalgic for that again.

“I love you,” Taron whispers, “come back to mine, we’ll get some food and in the morning I’ll say all this again so you can see how serious I am.”

“We can’t just ditch everyone,” you giggle into his neck.

“We can. You’ve got your bag, I’ve got my coat, let’s run away.”

“I don’t think you’ll be running anywhere in the state you’re in...”

“Then we’ll get a cab.”

He hails a taxi and you both jump in, giggling like naughty kids who were bunking off of school for the day, then when you get to his flat you have to help him find his keys to open the door.

“Welcome to my abode,” he grins as you both enter.

You look around at the grand surroundings that were a world away from the last place he had, then as soon as you turn around you end up back in a very tight embrace.

“Oh!” you chuckle as you wrap your arms around his back, “hello again.”

“Bed time,” he sighs, only taking away one arm from you so you can walk freely.

You both fall onto the bed still fully clothed, and Taron gravitates towards you, making sure his arms wind their way around your body before you both fall asleep.

“I’m looking forward to telling you just how much I love you again in the morning,” he whispers into your hair.

“If you remember,” you giggle.

“Oh I will. It’s not something I’ll ever forget.”

He lets out a contended sigh as you both snuggle together, your eyes closing as sleep takes over quickly due to the comfort of being in his arms once more.

Taron karaoke? Taron being cute and drunk and cuddly? All of the above?

@crazedcatcuddler @aynsleywalker @disneyprincessbuffyannesummers @lovemarvelousfics @lovemelikeyou1997 @godohammers @celine-wanderwall @lv7867 @nellietara @wolfgirlxslytherin @n3shama @crazy-souless-demon

#taron egerton #taron egerton fanfiction #taron egerton imagine #taron egerton x reader #taron fluff

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everythingoesnk · 5 years ago

Text

Once in Rockfield Farm (3/5)

summary; 🤡🔫

word count; 4 970

disclaimers; this is my least fave chapter don’t ask me why. tell me what u think please i’m so conflicted !!

warnings; nopeee

part 1

part 2

********

By the ridiculous number of plaques of the albums' sellings and accomplishments hanging along the corridors, it was quite obvious that EMI moved a lot of money.

With your middle finger, you went over the edge of one of the paintings. There wasn’t a single speck of dust on it.

The boys’ manager and lawyer invited you to wait for them outside.

Roger’d already warned you that they wouldn’t allow you to be present. Not that you cared or wanted to. But at some point you were growing tired of sitting alone doing absolutely nothing.

Once they abandoned the office after what seemed an endless time, you immediately hauled yourself to your feet.

“You’ll kiss the floor we step on as soon as we introduce you to A Night at the Opera, my dear," Freddie told Foster as he left the room.

Ray followed the grandiose Freddie with his eyes, a bit of mistrust in his face.

"I very much hope so" he answered before closing the door.

"It went well?" you asked to no one in particular, holding your purse against your tummy.

"We think so" Brian murmured.

"He doesn't believe we're going to present him the best album in history," Freddie bragged confidently as if it were definite that they were going to do so.

"Will you? Create the best album in history?" you smirked.

"Yep," John replied with all the sincerity in the world, leading the way to the elevator.

Roger stood beside you as the group left the building behind, and pulled a pack of ciggies out his pocket. In record time, he brought one urgently to his lips.

"You don’t think we can?" he inquired you, aiming the other way before blowing the smoke out.

You extended your hand and he understood the message.

Before shoving the package back, he took out another one, and with the cig hanging immobile in your mouth, Roger lit it for you.

At that exact moment, while he was concentrated on the task, you realized how long and thick his lashes were.

"I haven’t said such thing"

"Lovebirds, when you’re done with whatever it is you have to do, come to Mary's”

Roger nodded at Freddie’s words.

Posterior to waving the other three goodbye, you glanced at him with a puzzled expression.

"Right. This way"

"What are we doing?"

"Do you always have to ask questions?"

"And do you always have the habit of not answering when being asked?" you objected.

"When we get there you'll know it"

"You’re impossible" you groaned, and quickened your pace.

He took a new puff on the cigarette and looked at you jubilantly, pushing his tongue into his cheek, enjoying your harmless tantrum a little too much.

If only you knew how much he loved these domestic moments with you.

"Not that much, believe me"

In what sense is that addressed, even?

Although you didn’t speak much because Roger was intent on not getting lost, obediently following the instructions Clare had patiently listed him the night before, from time to time you exchanged a word to fill the silence.

You really appreciated the stroll. The last couple of weeks it’d been home-uni-home-uni-home-uni. You’d missed the active streets of London, the continuous loop of the loud noises and the accent.

"I think we’ve got to turn to the right"

He didn’t seem completely sure of his own words, and because of how fast his eyes moved from side to side, you knew he was struggling.

Eventually, he managed to ubicate himself.

"We have to cross the park and technically we’ll be able to see it"

"You'll see it, you mean. I don’t know what there is to see"

Roger rolled his eyes and put his hand on your lower back to guide you.

Checked first if it was okay to go ahead, and ignoring that the light was red, you passed the zebra crossing together.

Bringing you back to an old memory, it made you recall how several weeks ago you witnessed the boyfriend of a classmate of yours do the same with her with hectic traffic when they were late for their class. Nevertheless, it was also something a father could do with his daughter.

Why were you spinning around the matter? Nonsense.

But it was cute that he kept you close while crossing the street, though. Had it been a reflex action or had he been fully aware of doing so?

The thread of your thoughts caused you to space out, and as a result you didn't notice until then that you were approaching the exit of the aforementioned park.

Your heart enlarged a couple of sizes when he nonchalantly slipped his hand out of your back to entangle his pinkie with yours.

The pulsations your heart kept on producing were hard, so hard they hurt. Persistent and quick like a hummingbird’s flap.

As lightly and subtle as he did, you slowly proceed to move your fingers and hold his hand in its entirety, both of you looking ahead as if looking at each other would turn out to be too much right now.

It all felt too intimate, hands being the only method you used to talk to one another during the remaining bit of the walk until the final destination.

Roger stopped walking, and you did too.

You fixed your eyes on the store window before them: there were two mannequins wearing sets that genuinely caught your attention. From where you were stood, the store seemed to be empty. Sign that it was expensive. The walls inside were painted with neat white, thin golden lines forming patterns on the walls. A large chandelier hung from the ceiling, so large that you were surprised it stayed in place without falling off, dragging the roof along with it.

You looked suspiciously at Roger.

"What are we doing here?"

“See if you find out yourself. After you," suggested Roger, and as on the day you met, gesticulated you to go first.

A tune rang in the background announcing your arrival after you stepped right in. It made the employee’s head lift up. She left her position behind the cashier and walked towards you. Her outfit was all white with a golden headband, matching the drawings on the walls and the rest of the store.

When the three of you were together, you noticed that both of you wearing heels surpassed Roger by a few tiny inches. It didn’t seem to bother him, perhaps he didn’t even detect it.

"Good morning. How can I help you?"

"Clare’s friend?" Roger asked.

"Oh, Roger and (Y/N), I’m guessing. Very well, come with me"

The girl marched away, Roger with her.

He turned around and stopped when he saw you hadn’t moved.

"Ay, what's all this?" you whispered, not wanting the woman to hear you as not to be impolite.

And who the hell was Clare?

Roger grinned.

"This is my surprise"

Head in a muddle, you let Roger lead you to a small room filled with clothing items where the saleswoman’d been waiting for you.

A tray of tea and freshly made biscuits filled the air with a nice scent of sweet and salty.

"Our firm is not particularly well known for its catalogue of dresses, we rather excel at accessories such as handbags and glasses. Either way, I hope you find one you like. Anything you need, call me"

In the blink of an eye she was gone.

"Roger, care to explain?" you asked after a pause, looking around.

"Yesterday you mentioned you didn't have your graduation dress. I know your father's behaviour saddened you, I thought this would cheer you up"

"Shopping? Don’t tell me that, Roger. I didn’t take you for a sexist"

He looked like if you just hit him across the face.

"No... I never... I didn’t mean... I just wanted to have a nice touch, to buy it to thank you for—"

"I'm messing with you. Of course I don't think you're a sexist. I know very well you did it with the best of— What did you say? Buy it?"

Wide-eyed, you were shaking your head no.

"Yes. Buy it"

"Why would you do that?"

"To thank you for your hospitality"

Also because Roger simply wanted to give you the world, but since it's something that takes time, he decided this was a way to start. But he meant what he said: adopting four crazy and weird children for months… no one in their goddamn right mind would have agreed to that.

The first couple of following days after their arrival, having very little confidence around any of them, you didn’t really hang out together. Still and all, after some time but soon enough, you learnt that the four of them were warmhearted, fun and loving people.

"I know how hard you’re working to earn that diploma. We’re proud of you"

"Roger, you already pay me a rent. And I know you are, but it’s not necessary. You don’t have to do this, I can pay for it myself” you said too quickly.

“I know you can” he shrugged, letting you know he wasn’t going to change his mind.

Because of the look he was giving you, all defensive, you knew he already made the decision.

Arguing was only going to make you lose a valuable amount of time you could invest in killing the curiosity raised by the outstanding dresses displayed out front.

Following Roger's orders to take a good look at them, you picked three that you thought were pretty and elegant. One was black and the other two different shades of blue.

When you glanced up at Roger to tell him you were done choosing, he was no longer on the small sofa near the fitting room devouring the biscuits like the last time you saw him.

A one-sided grin lifted the corner of your mouth when you spotted him snooping on the other side of the room, rummaging through the dresses as well to be occupied. By his expression of absolute concentration it seemed that he was really putting effort and interest in the mission beforehand.

He turned around unexpectedly and smiled delightedly at you.

Every time he did smile like that, you could feel your soul leaving your body.

From time to time you had these intermissions where the world around you gradually began to slow down, Roger Taylor as your only source of light.

It was one of those.

"I have these," you said shyly after some time of you two staring at each other. "Have you found any I could try on?"

“Not really”

Seventeen minutes since you entered the dressing room. Roger was bored.

“Can I see?”

“No. The black one’s so ugly on me” you roared, looking at yourself in the mirror.

“You’re not being objective. Let me see”

“No”

“You look gorgeous”

You quickly turned on your heels, ready to hit him in the head for not listening, but he was nowhere to be seen. How the hell…?

“How can you tell?”

“I just know”

You laughed it off, blushing.

“So cheesy”

“But you’re smiling”

“Roger! Are you seeing me?” you asked, staring intently at every part of the curtain to see if maybe there was a tiny hole in it where he’d been peeking at you.

“No, but I can hear it in your voice”

“Shut up” you giggled.

“Can I see now?”

“No, you can’t”

God.

You weren’t sure about this.

You weren’t sure about this at all.

Roger taking the credit card out of his wallet to pay for something that was not going to be his but yours made you all flustered and uncomfortably red as hell itself in the face.

You took his hand before he could pass it to the woman.

“(Y/N), stop” he chuckled and gave her the card anyway.

He pulled you closer to him and kissed your cheek so casually, like if said actions didn’t have consequences. Hello? Your heart combusting, perhaps?

“There you go,” the woman handed him the bag, “tell your sister I said hi”

“I will” Roger nodded.

“Your sister? Clare?”

"Uh-huh"

“Younger or older?”

“Younger”

"You didn't tell me you had a younger sister," you said as you two initiated your way to Mary's.

"You didn't ask. Aren't you gonna tell me which dress you've chosen?" he cocked an eyebrow at you. "I paid for it, I believe I have the right to—"

You wanted him to see it the day of the ceremony, to make it a surprise as well.

"Please don't remind me you bought it. It's embarrassing"

Roger snorted a chuckle.

“Oh my God, woman. You’re so worried about it”

"We've got to be frank here. Mary told me you guys are broke, because you had issues with… whoever in the past. And now you take me to an upper high-class store to buy me a dress. Don't take me wrong, but I just don’t get it”

“Don’t have to swear on it” he noted quietly to the last part.

You sure weren’t getting anything.

“We firmed a contract we shouldn’t have. Life goes on and we’re with Rheid now, about to launch a masterpiece that will change our lives forever. Every penny he’s given us is for the album, but I know it’s gonna pay off. Of the little I had left from before, I wanted to do this. It’s my money. I do whatever the fuck I want with my money”

You didn’t say anything, perplexed.

He wished you'd understand the real reason why he wanted to make you happy. To cover your whims. To take care of you.

“So,” you spoke after a while, breaking the ice, “A Night at the Opera”

“Freddie’s suggestion. Do you like it?”

“I do. It’s weird, but it sounds like Queen”

He grinned.

Freddie said that enough was enough, that they deserved to disconnect from work for the group’s sanity.

They were getting ready at Mary’s to head to the nearest pub –putting it in his words— to dance until their feet bled and hopefully drink like psychopaths. He dictated how disappointed he’d be in them if they didn’t wake up naked and hangover in the middle of nowhere.

He was now in the bathroom applying black eyeliner to John.

“Can we come?”

Mary and you opted for a chill sleepover at first, but you changed your mind and managed to persuade her to go out as well, telling her you couldn’t remember the last time you went partying together.

Brian and John didn’t speak up, expecting Roger to do. When you saw that neither of them were saying a word, you turned your gaze towards him. He was wearing a seemingly chill unbothered facade, pushing aside how your request had tickled his stomach.

"Sure" Roger replied, mouth curving into a perfect smile.

Mary told you you could choose whatever you wanted from her closet in case you wanted to change to a more appropriate outfit for the occasion.

The two of you hurried upstairs.

It was evident that once you were there you were gonna dance all freaking night, so you picked a pair of denim bell-bottoms to be comfortable, a basic top, and kept the pair of black heels you had on already. Then you ran to touch up a little the makeup you had previously put on in the morning, adding a bit of glitter to your cheekbones.

Listening to the front door open and Freddie screaming to get your fat asses down there, Mary rushed to put a sparkly belt on while both of you trotted down the stairs.

“We’re coming!” you shouted, jumping to skip the last three rungs.

Sliding the back of your hand across the forehead to remove the sweat, you took Mary by the arm and escorted her to the opposite end of the pub, fleeing from the group of girls who were screaming at you for having spilt drink on them by accident. Mary tried not to fall while you made your way through the congregation of people going against your flow.

You raised your arms and kept dancing carefreely, ignoring the looks of all kinds you received.

Mary knew she’d never be on the same level as you. Her knees were begging to stop, meanwhile you were as fresh as a rose. It didn’t seem like you’d been dancing for over two hours without a break.

The boys, even Freddie, had also thrown in the towel a while ago.

"(Y/N), I'm going with Freddie!" Mary shouted, grasping you by the shoulder.

"What about me?"

"Come, I’m not keen on leaving you on your own" with this said, she began to gently push you towards where the boys were.

You were careful not to stumble since the drinks you had consumed earlier were already coming into effect. The purple, yellow and blue lights that illuminated the area disorientated you, so without question you let Mary lead you.

"Mary, I've saved you a seat, darling" Freddie said, patting the empty space next to him.

You frowned when you saw there was no room left for you in the booth.

"Shit”

John laughed when he heard the disappointment in your drunken voice.

Roger didn’t stutter. He held your hand and sat you on his lap.

"I don’t like this posture. Your thigh will hurt you, y’know what I mean?" you slurred.

Yet your actions were contradictory, because you moved to squeeze against him, too exhausted all of a sudden.

"I'll handle it," he murmured, fighting the instincts that grew inside him to touch you everywhere.

Fiddling with your necklace, you looked at the people on the dance floor.

You’d been wasting your time with them, bizarrely enjoying being so proximate to Roger more.

Speaking of the devil, the bastard had unbuttoned his shirt at some point.

The top you wore had its back completely uncovered; as a result, your sticky skin collided with his. Not that you complained, in fact, the contact made you horny. Could it possibly be that you were just dreadfully drunk and that your five senses were way more sensitive than usual? And that it didn’t have anything to do with Roger?

You’d been secretly having lascivious dreams concerning him for a hot minute, but resigned to admire from a distance. So no, he absolutely was the one to blame.

Roger waved his glass of tequila, offering you some.

As you were already drunk from the shots you had with John as soon as you stepped in, when you threw your head back to swallow til the very last drop, a lot of the liquid dripped down the sides of your mouth, staining your top and wetting your neck.

You laughed, clearly too tipsy to be upset.

Roger watched you attentively.

Many inappropriate thoughts seized him as he saw the liquid running down your collarbone.

You deposited the glass back on the table.

“You won’t be dancing anymore?” Roger asked.

“Perhaps at another time. I like it here”

“I like it too” he replied, and added in a small voice the following request hoping you wouldn’t get to hear it through the music. “Don’t leave”

You listened without interest as Brian and Freddie exchanged opinions on whether they should or shouldn't add a guitar solo in an almost finished song. John looked at them as if it were a tennis match, throwing glances at Mary from time to time that she returned. They knew they had to act before they started an argument, so Mary proposed to go dance some more.

Freddie followed her, and you saw him complaining to her about Brian's last-minute changes. John gestured Brian for the two of them to leave the booth as well, pointing discreetly with his thumb back to Roger and you: Brian understood.

"They’ve abandoned us" you stated, staring at your friends walking away until they were no longer in sight.

Now it was you sitting on the leather sofa, with Roger tucked between your legs –clearly if he sat on your lap he wouldn’t even last five minutes because you wouldn’t put up with it any longer than that, so it wasn’t worth a try—.

You had your feet against the edge of the table, legs wide apart to make room for him. At first he wasn’t sure, but quickly changed his mind when your fingers slipped into his hair, lazily massaging his scalp.

The idea occurred when he proved your point, telling you to sit on his left thigh because the other was getting numb.

He was in a trance, and felt his eyelids heavier by every second, not because he was sleepy but because of the pleasure.

“Fuck” Roger muttered thoughtlessly with his eyes closed, catching you off guard.

A sudden increase in your heartbeat, now irregular, rattled you.

“Wh-what?”

Embarrassment crept up his face when you stopped.

“Sorry, I don’t know what was that, it just felt good and—“

Your core was throbbing. You were so confused but so pumped at the same time.

“You want me to continue?”

He turned his head and scanned your features. He definitely didn't expect that, thought you'd want him to get off you instantly.

The intense eye contact that followed earned you another electrifying whip that shook every corner of your body.

When Roger went back to his initial position, you smiled mischievously.

He had to keep biting back his moans throughout the entire thing.

The mixture of alcohol running at an unrestrained rhythm through your veins, including how dangerously turned on you were by Roger’s constant heavy breaths, pushed you to take a step further: you traced your finger along the curve of his jawline, painfully slow, and with the tip of your nose you drew patterns on his neck, observing hungrily his Adam’s apple as he swallowed hard.

Roger looked up at the ceiling and attempted to count its tiles. Anything that'd distract him from having a boner, really.

"You good?" you teased with a smile, whispering near his ear.

"I wish I could answer honestly"

"Do it, I won’t judge"

He ran a hand through his golden hair, feeling really irritated that this was happening now, where he couldn’t rip your clothes off.

Saying he was having a hard time keeping it together doesn’t do justice to the reality of how much he had to retain himself.

"Say it" you insisted, intrigued.

In a hoarse whisper, pretty much thanks to the alcohol and the inebriety that your touch drowned him in, he grew the balls to actually say what was crossing his mind.

“I’ve never had the urge to taste a woman this bad”

You grinned, and that throbbing kept escalating.

“Oh, Rog. You couldn’t be any more subtle, could you?” you laughed, burying your hand one more time in the mess that his hair was, pulling it.

Literally, you couldn’t control yourself.

It’s his fault!, claimed a voice in your head. For being too fucking irresistible.

"Don't" he desperately groaned, taking your hand in his.

He sat straight.

“Why?”

Roger gave a small sexy laugh, and he turned to look at you in the eye, shoving the hair back of his face.

“Wanna hear me say it or feel it yourself instead?”

“(Y/N)”

A bad feeling that you did something terrible sunk in when you saw Mary towering over you, her mouth set in a line.

If yours'd been watering seconds ago because of Roger's cock being hard because of you, now it was as arid as the Sahara desert.

"I need a ‘you-know-what’," she said, the ‘you-know-what’ item usually being a tampon. This time it was only a petition for you to follow her quickly, “come with me”

Once inside a bathroom stall, she locked the door and sat on top of the toilet seat, crossing her arms and looking at you as if you were the biggest crackhead in the world.

"What the fuck was that? What were you thinking? What was all that about?" she argued.

"I don’t understand a word you’re saying"

"If I’d gotten there just ONE second later you’d be sucking him dry right now. Don’t play dumb with me, (Y/N)”

You leant your back against the door.

"Mary, cutie, this conversation’s stupid"

She put her hands on her hips. It made you giggle that she was so angry.

"I already explained to you what Roger is like. Once he gets what he wants, he’ll forget you and drool over the next one" she hissed matter-of-factly.

"Why are you acting like I’m in love with him or something? We’re adults having a good time. If there’s physical attraction, why shouldn’t we able to fuck?"

She winced, and focused on the first question only.

“You aren’t?”

You furrowed your brow. Okay, maybe the conversation was more serious than you thought. Alcohol slowing your brain down didn’t help the situation either.

“You’re being weird”

“And you’re being an asshole! Are you even listening to me? Roger’s a—“

“What?! What is he, Mary?! Enlighten me! And I do listen to you, always! Sure I remember me phoning you after that day I sang ‘All Too Well’ to him and you saying I shouldn’t get too close. But he’s been nothing but nice to me, M. He’s polite, funny, sweet… What the hell did he do to you?” you asked, staring at her with a look of incredulity, not recognizing the person in front of you.

“To me? What he did to endless women that once were in your place. He’s used them all and he’ll use you too”

When she pointed an accusing finger at your chest, where the heart is, you could feel yours dropping.

That you liked each other physically was undeniable, but what you didn’t know was that you cared about him so intensely. When and how did that happen?

It was true that out of Queen he was the one you talked to the most and the one you had the best time with, always joking and finding interesting subjects to talk about. Above everything else, he became a confidant. And it felt mutual up until now.

Had he been toying with you just to get in your pants?

“But… he helped me cope with my dad, and…”

“And what was he supposed to do?”

“And today…,” speaking was so hard. You were scared you’d choke clumsily with your own saliva, “today he bought me a dress. For my graduation”

Mary’s strong gaze changed, and she pulled herself to her feet. You swore something was eating her alive internally, but she was good at pretending she had it all together.

“Buying your love and attention. I saw it coming”

Mary let a calculated pause set between you two.

“You’re my best friend, (Y/N). I don’t enjoy doing this. I… I want to protect you”

She sighed and left when you didn’t open your mouth.

A couple of minutes later, you did too. Staring at yourself in the smudged mirror, you couldn’t tell whether you needed to go home or have twenty more drinks.

“Finally” you suddenly heard Roger say. He hugged you from behind right away, stopping you from literally rushing to John to tell him you wanted to leave. “I missed you, love”

Although you noticed your pulse rapidly accelerating, Mary's words seemed to be floating through your mind with a big neon sign with the word “alert” above them. She’d known Roger for a longer period of time than you did, and saw every lover appear and vanish whenever he found a new interest.

It just… You had to accept that one way or another, Roger was most likely to create damage.

“I want to go home, I’m wasted”

“Go home? We’re having a good time” he pulled you closer once again, his hands resting on your stomach.

He debated whether to bite your earlobe or not. One second later, he went for it.

You moaned. Loud. You wanted him to do it again.

“No, stop” you turned around and took two steps backwards, convincing you it was for the best.

He looked nothing but shattered.

“What’s the matter?”

“Forget what happened earlier. It was foolish”

Roger blinked too many times. He didn’t want to believe that you were being serious.

However, you looking everywhere but him was everything he needed to confirm you meant it.

Anger, exasperation and hurt clouded his face.

“So, we were this close” he began, his thumb and forefinger almost touching, “to make out about ten minutes ago, and now you want me to simply pretend it didn’t happen?”

“Well, I don’t want to ‘make out’ anymore, easy as that”

“I just can’t fucking wrap my head around it” he snapped.

It wasn’t about making out or not: he enjoyed your company and loved the way you made him feel when you were together. And he thought… you felt the same.

His heart was pounding so fast in his chest he thought he’d suffer a stroke.

You lapsed into silence, broken only by the one thing that made Roger understand why you were rejecting him.

“All girls swoon for you. Find another one to spend the night with, it won’t take you long, really. And please do forget about whatever happened between us in the booth”

It sounded way crueller than you wanted to. You wished you could take it back, but what's done cannot be undone.

He couldn’t bring himself to say anything for a while.

Knuckles white and breathing uneven, Roger got closer and bent forward invading your personal space.

“Assuming I’m a womanizer, eh?” he replied coldly, jaw hard.

Curling up into a ball and crying never appealed to you that much before.

“Don’t worry. I will”

********

tagging; @sweetdaisys @multifics @incorrcctqueen @namelesslosers @benders-diamond-earring

60 notes · View notes

forbetterorworsefinalspace · 5 years ago

Text

Dog’s Breakfast

Rating: Teen and Up

Fandom: Final Space

Part: 5

Link- 🌌

_______________________________________________________

Finally Sheryl begins her search for the Dimensional Keys, Gary just gets in the way and Sheryl goes through an actual mom experience.

Just don't get your hopes up.

_______________________________________________________

“Don’t run o- GARY! DO NOT RUN OFF!”

“I won’t!” Gary responded, still taking off in the same direction.

Oh FUCK me….

Sheryl ran a hand down her face as she watched the child stop to look at a sale stand. They were currently on day one of their stay in Furtasanguinis and it was their first day in the marketplace. This city was the largest on the planet, and the black market here was more of just a market. All around were shady characters, buying and selling wears. Sheryl eyed a bird monster who shuffled by, dripping in a green goo that was likely alien blood.

So you know, a child friendly location.

She had set up a meeting with one of her contacts, who would either know something about these keys, or know who to ask. It was in half an hour by the fountain- well, fountain turned drowning pool. Sheryl frowned as a large group of Aliens began to drown another in the muddy water, the fountain just spurting sludge.

“Mom! MOM! Come look at the bugs store!!”

Sheryl kept watching the drowning, pulling a ciggy out to light up. Gary just kept on calling her.

“Mom! Mom!! Mom! Mom! Mom! Mom! Mom! Mom!Mom!! Mom! Mom! Mom! Mom! Mom! Mom!Mom!! Mom! Mom! Mom! Mom! Mom! Mom!-”

“Eh?” Sheryl responded when the alien finally went slack and the bubbles stopped.

“Bug store mom!”

Uhhhhh…

Sheryl turned and slumped over to the vender Gary was referring to. The vendor was a lean character with eight arms, three eyes and a weird feeler mouth, like a shrimp. On his table were a variety of bags in jars and cases, from all over the universe.

“Look! Mooncake could’a made some friends.” Gary tapped one of the cases with a weird slug, crab thing inside. “C-cute little guys!”

“Mooncake?” Sheryl asked, smoke wafting from her mouth.

“Yeah! My Lunar moth caterpillar! He’s in the jar back home.” Gary smiled.

“Oh that thing.” Sheryl responded lazily, smoking her cigarette.

“Uh huh!” Gary looked over the display. “I wonder if there are any earth bugs here?”

“Nah, not rare enough.” Sheryl sniffed.

“Do you know any of these?” Gary asked, gesturing to them. “What are they?”

“Sure lets see.” She started pointing at them with her cigarette. “Endangered, endangered, rare, endangered, venomous, poisonous, on the no trade list, endangered, technically extinct, venomous,-”

Then alien vending the shop started to yell at them then, shaking four of his eight arms. He was screeching in a forgin language but Sheryl understood every word. Gary darted behind her but Sheryl didn’t notice him, she was solely focused on the very angry broomstick before her.

She let him finish, not moving an inch, but when he was done, she took out her cigarette and fried back at him. Twice the intensity, twice the volume and twice the vulgarity. No one stopped to watch as this was pretty commonplace, but the shop vender was certainly shaken, head ducking lower and lower as Sheyrl blasted him, verbally into next week. Finally he just took off, scuttling into the back of his shop, crying a little.

Victorious, Sheryl put her smoke back in her mouth, dusted off her shirt and went back to the fountain, Gary trailing behind.

“What happened?! Why was he such a wet turd?!” Gary whined, staring back at the store. “He just started yelling!”

“Thought I was calling his wears garbage.” Sheryl said, sitting down on a bench near the fountain. “I showed him who the real garbage was though.”

“Oh.” Gary looked back. “How you speak his language?”

“I speak many languages, all part of the espionage business Gary.” Sheryl sniffed, tapping her cigarette free of ash. “Tweedlepick is actually pretty easy to learn. It's just making the right mouth shapes that’s hard. They got that bottom feeder mouth shape, more blubbing.”

“Wow! Can you show me to do that?” Gary asked, excited.

“Ahhh, maybe later kiddo.” Sheryl spotted her contact through the crowd. “Here, my friend just showed up, stay close to me.” She tossed her smoke into the muddy water and was shocked when it erupted into flame in an instant, people yelling and screaming. It died down in less than five seconds though, so she shrugged and walked off.

“Sssherylllll…” The hooded centipede creature hissed, red glowing eyes peering out at her.

“Scheer, yah old bastard, how are you?” Sheryl asked, clasping him on the back.

“Allssss welll. You?”

“Not as well.” She admitted. “I have a sorta mission I’m on, trying to find something called Dimensional Keys. You ever heard of ‘em?”

“Dimenssssional Keysss…” Scheer garbled, scratching his chin with a bone like hand. “I have heard whisssperssss.”

Thank god, maybe this wasn’t a goosechase from a drunken nightmare.

“Oh? What have you heard?”

“That they are but the thing of legandssss.” Scheer explained, shuffling on his many legs. “However, I have not looked into them much farther than that.”

“How much would that cost?” Sheryl asked.

“Dependssss on how much work it issss.” He chuckled deeply. “My work issss not cheap.”

“I got money.” Sheryl said. “And some nice Earth shit. You don’t get much Earth drugs up here, do you?”

“Mmmmmmmm…” Scheer looked thoughtful. “No….”

“Tell you what, you put your feelers out, get the ball rolling, and I’ll let you have a taste.” Sheryl smiled. “Follow through, get me what I want, the entire stash I have is yours.”

“How much issss there?”

“Truthfully only a couple dozen bags, but when something isn’t plentiful, you can charge more for it.” She explained. “So what do you say?”

“...I will ssssee what I can find.” He crackled. “However if the effort beginsss to outway the reward, I may have to raissse my pricesss.”

“Your always worth the costs Scheer.” Sheryl said, but leaned in close. “Just don’t try to fuck me over.”

“I can only assssk for the sssame thing.”

“Then we understand one another.” Sheryl said, standing back. “When should I expect news?”

“Give me an Earth week.” Scheer whispered, starting to scuttle away. “I’ll sssee what I have for you.”

“Alright then.” Sheryl said, watching him leave.

Same old Scheer, even after all these years. Slimy but reliable.

Anyway, there was no real reason to stick around for now. They could grab some food and head back to the Trailer, where she parked in the middle of the woods.

“Alright Gary, lets-” Sheryl turned and looked at her feet, only to find dirt.

Oh god damn it.

“Gary.” Sheryl scowled, looking up over the crowd and stalls around her. “Gary!”

Nothing.

Confused, Sheryl looked to the bug stand to the west.

No.

Then to the street meat buggie to the east.

No.

Then everything in between.

NO.

“Gary?” She called, looking around a few more times, to no avail.

He was just gone.

A small shard of glass stabbed at something under her rib the moment she realized Gary was awol. It was a forgin emotion to Sheryl, she had never felt it before and she stall for a moment.

Fuck.

Fuck! FUCK! God Damn, shitty FUCK!

Sheryl forced herself to breath. Calm down! There are only two reasons Gary could be gone. Either he wandered off, or he was taken away. There's no time to panic.

She knelt to the ground, looking in the dirt.

Thankfully earth sneakers were a very visible and traceable patterns.

She followed them a little ways away to an alley, where they quickly turned into a scuffle before two larger prints were running down into the shadows.

Great. Kidnapped.

Sheryl looked down the alley with a scowl.

Should she really go after him? Honestly she told him to stay by her. What use was he if he didn’t listen.

Sheryl rolled her eyes.

Supplies would last longer for one person. Be more quiet. Less mess and disorder. Hell, she may get the job done faster. Not to mention he’d just be a liability wherever they go…

She should just go back to the ship and forget about this.

‘What kind of monster has a child with someone, just to steal some plans?!’

‘If yah ain’t gonna be useful, you should just get busy dyin’!’

‘No ones comin’ ta save you this time sweetheart. Your rooted.’

Sheryl inhaled deeply and scowled, but started down the darkened alley.

Fuckin hell.

Thankfully the footprints were very distinct, she was able to follow them through the winding pathways to edge of the marketplace. A few places they were cluttered or destroyed by other prints, but she was able to guesstimate where they were headed and catch up farther down the line with the tracks again.

Finally she came out to a more stable like area of the city, bustling with aliens and animal aliens of all sorts. Looking down she could see a large stack of cages by a shipping container, and Gary was seated in one at the bottom.

Sheryl ambled over and knelt beside the sniffling boy, she stared to a nearby wall.

“So!” She said, startling him. “What’cha doing Gary?”

“Mom!” He scrambled to wipe his eyes and turned to her quickly. “Your here! Some jack-ass-alope took me away and locked me up in here!!”

“Did he.” She stated. “Now how in the hell did he do that with you standin’ right next to me?”

“Uhhhh…” Gary deflated.

“Could it possibly be that you didn’t listen and took off?”

“...Maybe…”

Sheryl blew some hair out of her face. “Mmm, ok then. Have a good life Gary.” She stood up and began to walk away.

“H-hey! Wait!” Gary waved at her to stop. “Aren’t you gonna save me?”

“You made your choice Gary, now you have to live with it.” Sheryl tutted. “I mean, clearly your able to go off on your own, like you wanted-”

“No! No! I just wanted to see the shops while you talked!” Gary shouted, panicking.

“I dunno, you don’t seem to want to listen to me.” Sheryl hummed, looking at her nails. “It might be best if we-”

“No! Don’t leave me here!!!”

Sheryl paused, looking to the ground for a few seconds before groaning. She came back and squatted by the cage, eyes narrowed. “You gonna listen to me?!”

“Yes!”

“You gonna do as your told?!”

“Yes!Yes! Pease!!!”

She grunted. “Fine.”

“HEY! Who are you!?” A voice shouted angrily. Gary yelped and crawled deeper into the cage as Sheryl turned around. She looked up into the face of a very grumpy, toad like alien. Then down to a set of very framilerly shaped feet. “Get away from my products!”

“Right.” She reached into her boot for her combat knife and stood. “Let’s get this over with.”

Ten minutes later she left the city in the direction of the camper, dripping in blue blood. Again no one paid her any mind, not even when she had Gary in one hand, forcing him along in front of her by the back of his shirt.

“When we get back home, you are in charge of dishes, mopping and getting the fire ready- DO NOT LIGHT IT UNTIL I AM THERE- I will be taking a soak in the tub.” Sheryl ordered, making him walk up onto a bridge. “I am understood?”

“Yes mom.”

She let him go and kept walking, heading back to camp. Gary took a moment to catch up to her.

“Mom…”

“Eh?” She grunted.

“T-thanks for not leaving me behind.” He sniffled. She glanced at him, frowning when she saw he was sporting a black eye, clothes dirty and hair askew.

She looked back out to the woodlands. “Yeah, well, don’t make me regret it.”

Gary didn’t respond.

#sheryl goodspeed #gary goodspeed #Fanfiction #final space #bad parenting #Hurt no comfort

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wallsinner · 6 years ago

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(All I Wanna Do Is) Grow Old With You || Jean x F!Reader {1}

i really wanted to get the first part of this posted tonight, because it’s @invaderzia1‘s birthday today!! happy birthday maddy, i love you and i hope this makes you at least smile on your special day!!

From the moment he first stepped foot onto the campus of Trost Community College, Jean Kirschtein had had a specific three-point life plan, he was going to meet some like minded individuals on his music course and form the hippest, indie-ist band in Trost. That he’d succeeded at after he met drummer and keyboardist couple, Connie Springer and Sasha Braus. Sure, he’d had to semi-bully his best friend, Marco Bodt into becoming his bassist, but that was point one done.

The second was to score himself the hottest girlfriend on campus and become half of a power couple, which had been realized when he’d met fashion major Hitch Dreyse, the second hottest girl on campus (the hottest girl had never really been that into him and so he’d had to let that one go) and they’d started dating in his first year. The longer he was with her, the dream of just dating the hottest girl on campus had turned into wanting to spend the rest of his life with her, get married to her and have her have a baby or two of his. Part of that had been realized.

The third and last point had been the most important and what was supposed to happen with that was that the day of his graduation from his music course, he was supposed to be approached by a big, powerful record executive -- preferably one from the Eldian Music Group, but he wasn’t fussy -- and offered a five album deal on the spot, his band Pandora’s Unboxing becoming the top band in the world. That one hadn’t been, yet.

Though to be honest it had been five years since college and he’d basically given up on that dream, but at least he was working in the industry he loved, it’d been four years now and things were pretty sweet, he and Hitch were getting, uh, hitched in a month and even though the band thing hadn’t panned out he was still working with most of Pandora’s Unboxing, albeit in a different way than he thought he would be. Sasha was gone, for one, she and Connie had married and had two kids and so she had less time for keyboarding now that she was changing diapers and shit all day. Connie still played drums in the band though, only as a second job, he worked in an office in the city during the week. Marco had ditched the band as soon as he could, but he was still Jean’s best friend and he worked for the same wedding company that Jean did, but as a driver whilst he was putting himself through law school. Jean had recruited some chick called Pieck as their third, but mostly she was just there being weird in a corner.

And so it was a Friday night, tonight he wasn’t singing at a wedding though, he was singing at the after party for a vow renewal for a ‘Mr and Mrs Grice’, who had hideous taste in music and so he’d spent most of the evening singing a shitty medley of seventies to early nineties ‘hits’ and he was more than ready for a break, a drink and check in with Hitch. And so, the microphone was handed over to Pieck and he announced that he was taking a little break and headed over to the bar as the beginning of Pieck’s favourite song to perform - ‘I’ll Make A Man Out of You’ from Disney’s late nineties movie, Mulan to grab a bottle of water.

“She’s… still not gotten over that song, huh?” Marco asked, with a cocked eyebrow as Jean settled into the seat next to him, half downing the water. Poor Marco, he was driving the Grice’s home when they decided they wanted to leave and so he’d made himself at home for the evening at the bar with his law textbooks surrounding him, like he did most weekends at gigs.

“She’ll find something new soon,” Jean shrugged with a yawn and another sip of water. “Remember when she sang ‘Alone’ by Heart in the style of Trent Reznor for about thirty gigs in as row?”

“Don’t remind me,” Marco groaned.

Jean chuckled and surveyed the scene before him -- people dancing, the Grice’s eldest son swaying with his girlfriend as he grinned and pulled her close and uh oh, the Grice’s youngest son being slipped a glass of a clear liquid that clearly wasn’t water. Jean made a mental note to keep an eye on that. Oh and there was the newest employee, a new waitress who management had hired because she was the cousin of Mina Carolina, a long term employee who was close friends with Marco. “How’s Mina’s cousin settling in? She stopped dropping food on people?”

It was Marco’s turn to chuckle. “Yeah, she’s doing pretty good now. Mina hooked her up with the gig because she’s saving up money for her wedding. I’m not sure I’d want to work in the wedding industry if I was saving up for a wedding, but hey she’s a nice person. Guess who she’s engaged to, though?”

“Who?”

“Eren Jaeger,” Jean pulled a face as Marco said the name, they’d gone to school with Eren and Jean had hated him from the moment he’d swaggered into the cafeteria. He’d been the ultimate playboy too, sleeping with anything that had so much as looked at him. God, Jean had gotten into so many fights with that boy it was unreal. “I know,” Marco shrugged. “Maybe he’s changed.”

“I guess I won’t be getting an invite to their wedding,” Jean yawned and stretched again. “Anyway, I’m going out for a smoke so I can get back up there before Pieck starts getting bottles thrown at her again.”

“You’re so mean to that girl,” Marco frowned. “But I guess I’ll see you later.”

Jean stood up and started to walk towards the kitchens, so he could head out into the alley for his smoke and some fresh air and cast another look around the room, in time to see the Grice’s youngest son wrap his hand around his mouth. It seemed like you -- Mina’s cousin -- had noticed as well because the two of you reached him at the same time, you grabbed the door open and with a practised ease Jean hoisted him out the back door, into the alleyway and by the dumpsters before the young boy could spill his guts.

As the boy vomited -- loudly -- into the dumpster, Jean rubbed his back and muttered soothing words to him about how it was okay and to get it all out.

“You seem well rehearsed in this,” Jean looked up to see you still stood by the door, a look of concern in the boys direction. “Does this happen a lot?”

“Almost every gig,” Jean looks into the dumpster and pulls a face, helping the young boy down and offering him a tissue to wipe his face. “Hey now buddy, that wasn’t smart was it? If anyone offers you a drink like that again, you say no.”

You walk over towards them, a bottle of water in your hand and you watch as the young boy swigs and spits. He thanks Jean and let’s you lead him back out into the main room and to his parents as Jean sits down for his cigarette finally. He’s surprised when you come back out and sit down next to him. “He okay?”

“Yeah,” you nod. “Parents aren’t best pleased though, but they said to say thank you to him for helping him out.”

Jean shrugs. It comes with the job. “Break time for you too?”

“Yeah,” you say again, cracking open a can of soda and taking a swig. “Food is all done with, I’ve got a few before I need to start helping Mina with dessert. Oh hey, I heard you’re getting married, how’s the planning going?”

“Are you engaged to Eren Jaeger?” Jean blurts out, without much thought really and you look taken aback.

“Uh, yeah, do you know him?”

“Went to college with him,” Jean replies and you wince. “We didn’t really get on.”

“I would never have guessed by your tone of voice.” You reply.

“He doesn’t mind you working evenings?”

You shake your head. “He spends most of his evenings out in the city with clients these days, so if I’m working I’m not going home to an empty house.”

Oh yeah. Jean’s so sure that’s what he’s doing but for once in his life he has the good sense to keep his mouth shut. “So, when’s the wedding?”

You swallow. “Oh. We haven’t set a date yet, I keep suggesting that we do but he doesn’t really want to set one yet.” And you look so sad and Jean feels bad and like he’s put his foot in his mouth and so with one last puff on his ciggie, he throws it into the dumpster.

“I should get back,” he tells you. “I’m sure he’ll set one soon.”

You smile half-heartedly. “See you in there, Jean.”

“See you.” And as he’s about to close the door behind him, you call out his name and he turns round.

And with a big grin you ask. “When we do set a date… will you sing at my wedding?”

#jean kirschstein x reader #Jean Kirschtein #snk x reader

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saiyukisecretsanta-blog · 7 years ago

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A gift for Mosca From: Kirathaune (link) Title: Promises, Promises Pairing/Characters: Sanzo & Goku Genre: N/A Rating: PG-13 Warnings: Some spoilers for recent chapters of Blast.

* * *

After being on the road for almost two years, and never staying in the same place for more than a few days, Goku admitted it felt weird to be going into their third week at Sharak’s mountain fortress. He had gotten to the point where he knew a whole bunch of people by name, and could go anywhere in the temple and barracks—and the village, too—without asking for help. Even so, their extended stay had given Goku a curious restlessness that he wasn’t quite sure what to do with. As usual, he had recovered from their encounter with Nataku and his weird army much quicker than everyone else, although he still had a few lingering cuts and bruises. He helped Sharak’s men with the ongoing repairs to the fortress’ outer walls, and joined them during their training sessions. Hassan had tried in vain to get him to rest more, but he just nodded through his lectures and went off to find another willing sparring partner. Gojyo said he had ants in his pants, and after Goku found out what that meant—and checked his pants to make sure—he had to agree. The other three definitely needed the down time—especially Sanzo—but Goku had quickly gotten tired of being stuck in the quarters that Sharak had assigned to them, however roomy and nice they were. It was different for Hakkai and Sanzo; when they weren’t sleeping they spent their time reading, and Gojyo played endless games of solitaire. None of the scrolls made any sense to Goku, not that he was much of a reader anyway, and Gojyo could beat him at cards so easily that it wasn’t much fun. So in between repairs, training, and sparring, Goku ran a delivery service of sorts for his friends, bringing scrolls and tea for Sanzo and Hakkai, cigarettes and booze for Gojyo, and meals when they were too tired to join everyone in the dining hall. The afternoon’s delivery was an easy one, just a couple of scrolls and some ciggies for Gojyo. Worn treads creaked as Goku bounded up the narrow stairwell, up, up, up until he reached the top level of the fortress, which was where all the living quarters were situated. They were pretty high up, which was great for safety, but Goku could understand why Hakkai and Sanzo only came down to the lower levels for the evening meal. Goku pushed open the door to their quarters and went inside. He had to admit, it was a pretty sweet setup - a common room flanked on two sides by four small bedrooms. Nothing fancy, but everything was clean and Goku was couldn’t remember the last time he’d had his own room. He found Sanzo sitting at the table next to the common room’s window, smoking a cigarette and reading a newspaper that had to be at least a month old. The table was littered with newspapers and several full ashtrays, but Goku noticed that the scrolls that needed to be returned to Sharak were rolled up neatly and set on top of a nearby chest of drawers. “Hi, Sanzo,” he said, and Sanzo grunted in reply as he put the scrolls on the table. “I don’t know which is yours and which is Hakkai’s, so I’ll put them both here.” He looked around the room, but Sanzo was the only occupant. “Where are the others?” “Hakkai’s sleeping,” Sanzo said, “and the cockroach is off playing cards down the hall.” He looked over his newspaper at the carton of cigarettes in Goku’s hand, and scrunched his nose in distaste. “He’ll smoke anything, won’t he? Those taste even worse than his usual brand.” “He said beggars can’t be choosers,” Goku said, “and he doesn’t want to make his own like you’ve been doing.” He glanced at the small dish next to Sanzo’s cup, noting that it still held a decent handful of hand-rolled cigarettes. Sanzo hadn’t been smoking nearly as much since they’d been staying at the fortress, and Goku had a suspicion that making his own smokes had made Sanzo ration his stash. “I’m surprised that Gojyo is off playing cards with the men.” He put the carton in front of Gojyo’s bedroom door. Sanzo frowned at him. “Why are you surprised? They’re fresh meat to him, he knows all our tells.” Goku shrugged as he walked back to the table. “He’s been weird since he found out about that mark on his neck.” “Weirder, you mean.” “Yeah, weirder. He thinks everyone is watching him, waiting for him to suddenly go all demon on them.” “Idiot,” Sanzo said, “no one else knows about his mark except us, and he’s only had it for a few weeks.” “A few weeks since you saw it,” Goku said. “Who knows how long it’s been there, with all his hair? And we haven’t really been sleeping or bathing around each other recently.” Even if they had, Goku wouldn’t have thought to look for a demon mark on anybody. Sanzo’s eyes narrowed, and then suddenly focused on him, his sharp violet gaze flicking from Goku’s boots to the limiter on his brow. “Strip,” he said. Goku blinked. “Huh?” Sanzo set his paper on the table, and took off his reading glasses. “Clothes. Off. We need to make sure you’re not walking around with a mark, too.” A cold knot tightened in Goku’s stomach as he toed off his boots and shrugged out of his shirt. What if Sanzo found something? Would that mean his limiter might stop working? A minute later, he stood in front of Sanzo, clad only in his boxers. “Aren’t I already kind of a demon? Sort of?” Goku asked, tapping his diadem. “Gojyo told me once that I had a mark on my stomach when I changed, but there’s nothing there now.” He pointed at his mark-free belly. “Whatever the fuck you are, I don’t want to make any assumptions,” Sanzo said. “Gojyo is a half-breed, so he shouldn’t have a mark, and yet now he does. So, I’m going to check you. Turn around.” Goku complied, and the slight chill in the room raised goose-bumps on his arms while he waited for Sanzo to finish. He yelped when his boxers were yanked down. “Sanzo! I wouldn’t have a demon mark on my ass!” He gripped the waistband to keep the front of his boxers up. “How would you know?” Sanzo pulled back on the waistband and released it. The elastic snapped against Goku’s skin with a loud thwack. “Ow,” Goku said, rubbing his backside. “I’ll trust you to check the rest,” Sanzo said, waving a hand in the direction of Goku’s crotch. “You can get dressed.” “I think I’d have noticed something down there,” Goku muttered as he grabbed his clothes off the floor. “Oh, you admire your balls every time you take a piss?” “No!” Goku sputtered, and he scowled at the smirk on Sanzo’s face. “It isn’t funny!” The fleeting amusement left Sanzo’s face. “No, It’s not. Just check, all right?” “Okay,” Goku said, and he pulled on his pants and fastened them up. “And let’s keep this between us for now.” Sanzo reached for his newspaper and glasses. “Okay.” That was fine with him—the last thing Goku needed was for Gojyo to start messing with him. He put his shirt back on, and by the time he poked his head through the collar Sanzo had lit a new cigarette and resumed reading his paper. Usually that meant the conversation was over, but Goku wanted to check something else. “Hey, Sanzo?” “Hmm?” “You’re still gonna do it, right?” Goku tugged his boots back on. “Do what?” Sanzo asked from behind the paper wall. Goku’s fingers worried the edge of his shirt hem. “You know… if I go berserk, and you can’t get me back to… me. You promised.” He pushed back the memories of another set of mountains, and a ring of snowy graves. Newsprint rustled as half the wall dropped down, and Sanzo glared at him over the rims of his glasses. “Don’t ask stupid questions.” The wall snapped back up into place. Goku laughed at the very Sanzo-like response, and he took a deep breath as the knot of worry began to unravel. “Thanks, Sanzo.” His stomach gurgled, reminding him that he hadn’t had his afternoon snack yet, and Sanzo’s quiet huff of amusement banished the rest of the tension that had tightened up his insides. “There’s a couple of scrolls on the table near the door,” Sanzo said. “Take them back down to Sharak’s library, and tell her I’ll put them back in their proper places tonight.” He turned a page of the paper. A definite dismissal this time, but that was fine—Goku had gotten an important question answered, sort of, and the fact that Sanzo was going to put the scrolls away meant he intended to join them for dinner later on. Maybe they could even have a game or two of mahjongg after dinner; they hadn’t played in awhile and Goku much preferred mahjongg to cards. He scooped up the scrolls on his way out, and whistled an aimless tune as he headed back down the stairs. Sanzo was almost better, which meant they would be back on the road soon. As much as Goku enjoyed having a room to himself, he looked forward to continuing on with their mission. Well, it really wasn’t a mission any more, since they had kind of gotten fired. But they were still going West, and still intended to stop the Minus Wave and get Sanzo’s stolen scripture back. Whatever they were calling it now, Goku was ready to get back to it. * * * Sanzo stubbed out the end of his cigarette, cursing as the tips of his fingers touched the ash that had piled up in the chipped plate that served as an ashtray. Handmade smokes were a pain—they didn’t last nearly as long as his Marlboros, and he was used to having a filter on the end. The only upside was that the villagers really did have some nice tobacco. He glanced at the pitiful pile that remained in the dish and frowned; he was going to need to make some more, he was almost out. Maybe tomorrow he would send Goku over to the village to replenish his supplies. “Tell me, Sanzo, are you really going to be able to keep your promise to Goku?” Sanzo turned his head and saw Hakkai standing in the doorway of his room. “Taking to listening at doors, Hakkai?” Hakkai held up a scroll. “I was going to give this to Goku to take down, and I was about to open my door when I heard Goku complaining about certain aspects of his… examination. I take it you didn’t find anything?” “No.” Sanzo put down his paper and lit another cigarette. “I agree that it’s a good idea to keep an eye on things, especially as we get closer to Hontou Castle. I’ve been checking myself regularly, as well.” Hakkai walked over to the table and examined the new scrolls. “But you didn’t answer my question, and I don’t think you really answered Goku’s.” “I answered him.” Hakkai cocked his head and regarded him. “One thing I’ve come to know about you, Sanzo, is that you very seldom lie outright. Instead, you either ignore the question or give a non-answer. I’m sure Goku inferred that it was foolish to ask about your promise, and that you would indeed kill him if he ever loses himself to the Minus Wave. But that’s not the only way your answer could be taken, is it?” “Think what you want to think.” Sanzo tossed his lighter onto the table and opened his newspaper again. “Ah, another not-lie. I think you told him it was a foolish question because you have no intention of killing him. I don’t think you’ll be able to do it.” Sanzo’s lip curled in a sneer. “I’m not going to make some sappy declaration like you did.” Hakkai smiled. “I’m not ashamed of what I said.” His gaze met Sanzo’s for a few silent moments, and then he held up the scroll in his hand. “I think I might just take this down myself, a little exercise will do me good. I assume from your conversation with Goku that we will all be dining together tonight, so I will see you at supper.” He walked to the door, but before he left he turned back to face Sanzo. “Don’t worry, Sanzo,” Hakkai said. “If that time should ever come, Gojyo and I will be there to help you break your promise… because we love Goku, too.”

#fanfic #m0scad0mestica #gifter: kirathaune #saiyuki secret santa #submission

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you-andthebottlemen · 8 years ago

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31 - Van’s POV

“Request: Hiya, can you do one about a fan who's obsessed with them going to see them live and van keeps smiling at the reader and makes eye contact throughout the gig. Then afterwards he goes up to her and hugs her and fancies her then they end up going back to his or something like that. Thank you:)”

If this is not quite what you were after I have written a fic about Van falling for a fan before, link here.

Also, @storiesaboutvan has written this amazing fic about Van inviting a fan on tour and this one about Van making eye contact throughout a show and fancying her. Check out her fic index for more!

This was written while I was still quite unwell post-surgery. So I’m not 100% happy with the quality of it. Apologies :/ Just wanted to get something out there as it was requested ages ago. Thank you <3 (((Edit: reading this back months later and it’s now one of my favourites!)

****************

My mind was racing a million miles an hour; it wasn’t nerves or any of that, it was pure excitement. I was completely bouncing off the walls.

“Tonight’s gonna be special, I can feel it mate,” I grinned, nodding my head at Larry who was standing next to me. I was leaning against the wall outside the back of the venue, smoking a ciggie. I passed it over to him and he took a long drag. We were starting to share packs to save money where we could.

“What makes you think that?” He asked, passing the smoke back to me.

“I just have this mad feeling, you know?”

I squashed the ciggie under my boot and went back inside with Larry for soundcheck. The venue wasn’t big by any means, but it was a venue none the less and a lot nicer than where we’d been playing previously. We even had a proper van on this tour, not just the shitty one Dad used to drive. The stage was out the back of a pub, in a separate room meaning we’d have an actual mosh pit goin’. Hopefully.

After soundcheck, I watched from the upstairs window as the venue began to fill up, people filing through the door from all directions. I couldn’t believe all these people were here to see us scruffy lads from Llandudno. Mental.

I had this surreal, dazed feeling; it felt like a dream. As I walked onto the small stage, my eyes instantly snapped to a girl at the front, standing just off to the side.

She wore a t-shirt with our name sprawled across the front; it was the first time I’d seen someone in our merch before the show rather than after when I’d convinced them to buy one. I smiled at her wide and she grinned back at me. I knew tonight would be good and this proved it. I glanced over at Larry and nodded towards the girl and her shirt, he shook his fist in the air triumphantly, smiling. Even just seeing that gave me a crazy load of confidence, we had fans.

The room was a good two-thirds full, people seemed genuinely excited to see us. As we launched into Fallout, people bounced, some even singing the words back to us. There was no feeling that could ever match this, it was pure madness and I was totally in love with it. If it was like this now, imagine when we got an album out? My eyes flicked back to the girl in the Catfish shirt, she looked just as in love as I felt.

Before our last song, I stopped and looked around the room to take it all in. People were losing their shit. T-shirt girl was stood there lookin’ up at me, eyes wide and all smiles. I winked at her before talking to the crowd one last time.

“Thank you, we are Catfish and The Bottlemen! Come find me after the show and tell me what songs you think we should put on the album and which ones we should throw away because they’re shit, yeah? Have a good fuckin’ night!”

....

Once I’d wound down from the show, I headed out with the lads into the bar at the front, hoping to chat to people about our set. One of my favourite things about touring was being able to meet people and hear firsthand what they thought of us; learning what sounded good and what sounded fuckin’ awful. Larry was pushing to chuck A.S.A but people generally seemed to like it; it was an ongoing fight between us.

“Fallout is good but you gotta get rid of the ‘I’m terrible in bed and nobody fucks me’ stuff,” some guy said and I laughed, knowing they weren’t the actual lyrics but I couldn’t help myself from changing them once I was on stage. I always had lyrics running through my mind so I wouldn’t fuck it up, but usually, that turned into me getting distracted and then god knows what coming out of my mouth.

I spoke to a few more people who all praised Fallout and Homesick, I knew they were crowd favourites; definitely gonna be on the album. Homesick had the first proper, original riff I’d ever written. I was dead proud of that one. Out the corner of my eye, I spotted t-shirt girl. A smile spreading across my face, I dashed over to her excitedly, leaving Larry with them mid-conversation. I twisted through the people in my way, my eyes were set on the girl ahead of me.

“Hey, love. Nice shirt!” I smiled as I walked up to her and pulled her into a hug. After letting go, I leant my arm on the bar top beside her.

“Yeah I saw you guys a few months ago, I was so excited to see you again tonight. Amazing set!” she replied with a smile.

“Ah thank you...what’s your name?” I asked.

“Y/n,” she replied, holding out her hand to shake.

“Can I buy you a drink, y/n?”

“Only if you tell me what A.S.A stands for,” she grinned wickedly.

“Guess you’re not getting one then,” I winked, making her laugh before ordering two ciders.

.....

“Okay, so, are you Tim or Terry?” Y/n asked me keenly, leaning on her elbows across from me at the table, almost like she was interrogating me.

“Fuck. That’s a good question. I’d have to say, Tim,” I replied after a moment's thought.

“Really!?”

“Yeah babe! Weed and PlayStation!” I exclaimed, laughing and waving my hands in the air to reinforce my point.

“What about you?”

“Neither. But, fuck. The Streets are so good,” y/n sighed, swishing the ice around in her glass.

“Agreed. A Grand Don’t Come For Free is my all time favourite album,” I said as I took another sip of my drink. Not many people knew The Streets, I was buzzing. Mike Skinner was a legend.

As conversation slowed, I checked my phone only to realise I’d been chatting to y/n for almost two hours. People had begun to empty from the venue and the lads were nowhere to be seen. Probably gone back to the van. Time had completely escaped me.

“Ah shit, I better go find the lads,” I sighed, standing up and pulling my jacket back on. Y/n’s face fell.

“Wanna come with me? Might go for a smoke if you fancy it,” I offered, not liking the sad look on her face and not wanting to say goodbye just yet. She nodded happily and followed me through to the back of the venue where we loaded in.

I was right; the lads were out the back leaning against the van chatting and finishing their beers. They all looked surprised to see me walk out with a girl, Larry just rolled his eyes though.

“This is y/n,” I introduced, pulling out a smoke from my pocket. She waved at the lads and they nodded, introducing themselves back to her.

I held a ciggie out to y/n and she took it quickly saying thank you. I lit her smoke, staring into her eyes as I did so. Always something so romantic about that, not sure why? She leant against the wall and smoked quietly, she looked effortlessly cool and beautiful. I couldn’t take my eyes off her. Didn’t realise I fancied her til now, watching the smoke rise above her in the lamplight.

“Nice shirt by the way,” Benji commented.

“Thanks, I got it from this really shit band I saw one time. The lead singer was such a cock,” she winked.

“Sounds about right,” I laughed, tipping my head back and blowing smoke up into the air.

“For real though, you guys are awesome. You’re gonna be massive one day.”

“You think so?” I asked.

“I know so,” she responded firmly.

We finished our smokes, listening to the guy's chat and talk about the show. We still couldn’t believe all the people who showed up. Y/n gave us her opinion on the songs which was crazy helpful; she had a good ear.

“You should keep A.S.A for some EP release or something if it’s not on the album,” she suggested.

“Nah they can do way better than that rubbish,” Larry argued.

“Rubbish?!” Y/n and I exclaimed at the same time, causing everyone to laugh.

I squished the ciggie under my boot and couldn’t help myself from lighting another one. A few moments later, the door of the venue opened and the employees left, the manager behind them asking us not so politely to leave.

“So are you off to some hotel or something now?” Y/n asked, speaking as though we were rockstars. The boys and I laughed; a hotel? I wish.

“No love, we sleep in the van,” I replied, with a small chuckle and putting my arm around her shoulders loosely.

“Seriously?”

“Seriously,” Benji confirmed with a flat tone.

“Why don’t you all come back to mine for the night then at least?” She offered, putting out her cigarette like it was no big deal to take us five strange lads back home with her.

.......

Y/n set us all up either on the couch or on the floor with pillows and blankets. She’d made us tea and we felt right at home. Best of all was being able to have a hot shower. Her housemate was asleep though so she told us to be quiet, but of course, Bob knocked over a chair on his way to the toilet which made us all laugh like crazy.

“If you guys don’t shut the fuck up you’ll be sleeping in the van again,” she warned in an angry whisper. Larry held a pillow over his face, almost suffocating himself, in an attempt to stop laughing. Which just made me laugh more, tears leaking out my eyes and all.

Once we’d stopped rolling about on the floor and calmed down we finished our tea, then y/n bid us goodnight and went to her room. The lads started to drift off but as usual, I was laying wide awake. I stared at the ceiling for what felt like hours, Benji’s snoring really starting to irritate me. I quietly got up off the make-shift mattress on the floor and tiptoed through the living room down the hallway looking for y/n’s room. I wasn’t sure why or what I hoped to achieve but I just wanted to be with her some more.

I peered my head around multiple doors, afraid of going into the wrong one. Eventually, I found y/n’s; the last door in the hallway. I opened the door as quietly as I could and crept in. She was curled up under the sheets, she looked peaceful and soft, I stood there for a minute just staring and not wanting to wake her up after all.

A floorboard creaked under my weight and her eyes snapped open. I cringed and waited for her to yell at me.

“What the fuck?” She whispered.

“Couldn’t sleep,” I shrugged, whispering back. She rolled her eyes.

Y/n pulled back the covers and patted the space beside her. I glanced at her looking for final consent and she nodded. So I climbed in next to her and pulled the covers back up over us. She was warm and smelt homey, all vanilla and fresh cotton. I felt her shift beside me, burying down under the blankets.

“Glad I made you shower,” she whispered.

We lay in silence for a bit, listening to each other’s breathing. I moved ever so slightly so my arm was touching y/n’s and for some reason I was nervous. Y/n wiggled closer to me, her hand finding mine gently. Quickly, I threaded my fingers with hers and held tight.

“You know I meant it when I said you guys will be massive one day,” she told me, breaking the silence.

“Yeah? What makes you so sure?”

“I just have a feeling,” she smiled. Her words echoing my own earlier.

At that, I grinned and turned to be laying on my side. I looked at her and held her cheek in my hand. We locked eyes for a moment and then before thinking I leant in to kiss her. She kissed me back confidently, her hands becoming tangled in my hair at the back of my neck as our breathing became louder. I smiled into her lips; I knew that I was damn right when I said tonight was going to be special.

#van #vanfic #VanFiction #van mccann #catb #catfish and the bottlemen #larry lau

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markgallacher · 7 years ago

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GIRVAN BLUES

I’ve borrowed this title from another writer’s short story, published in the Bridport Prize 2017 anthology. I had seen the title of the story mentioned in the judge’s report, which had been published online with a list of the prize-winning and recommended writers and their brief biographies.

Seeing the name of my hometown used as a story title, by another writer, induced a sense of excitement and vertigo, and either by mistake, or by some fault of that initial online posting (and I would not realise the error until I had the printed anthology in my hands), I attributed the story to a young Irish writer, whom I’d never heard of before – Colin Walsh, which led me to find his story, ‘The Flare That Carves Itself Through The Dark’. My error was fortuitous because it turned out to be a perfect story. The kind of story I was compelled to read three times – and listen to twice (there’s an audio with the story out there on the web). That rare kind of short story that makes time stop, makes the world around you melt away, so there is only the story. It featured a small town and people I could easily have met in the high street of my own hometown. So in a way, this wrong turn, this lucky find made me want Colin Walsh to be the author of ‘Girvan Blues’.

But it turns out the short story ‘Girvan Blues’ was written by Karen Ashe, a Scottish writer from Airdrie. Any disappointment from that fact evaporated on the first reading. Featuring an unspoiled Elvis Presley on the run from Prestwick Airport, it’s a gem of a story, full of great one-liners and brilliant pathos. And picturing Elvis on Girvan’s seafront, in an empty café, dismayed by the burger he’s ordered, was a joy I relished.

The story made me remember the shock of ordering a cheese sandwich for my Danish son in a café in Girvan on one of our rare visits, and watching a befuddled employee, clearly more used to fried bacon and runny egg orders, sawing open a roll, grating a sorry looking block of old cheddar and then dumping the shredded mass into the Pac-Man-like mouth of the roll. Served like that, with a cheery-perfunctory ‘Here you are’, now it was my own son’s turn to be befuddled. I could tell he had worked out that he wasn’t going to be eating ‘smørrebrød’ or anything resembling rye bread anytime soon.

Like a lot of other people from small towns, I’d spent most of my formative years aching to escape my world’s smalltownness. A place where if everybody didn’t know everybody, they at least seemed to think they knew something about everybody. Where put-downs were rattled out with the ruthlessness of contract killings. There always seemed to be something cruel hanging in the air. A culture of wounding, where everyone had to bleed. No one gets out of this place alive.

Girvan might have seemed like the edge of the world, but somehow, it’s never far away. Now in my middle years, all I seem to do is try and recapture it in my memory. Or write about it.

And judging from the Facebook posts of Girvan’s diaspora, a lot of other people do the same, asking about people they knew from long-ago summers, tagging blurry faces in digital copies of old Kodak pictures or from even older cut-outs from ancient editions of the Carrick Gazette.

This recent wave of Girvan Blues was set-off by a film clip of the highly successful Scottish playwright Douglas Maxwel, who’s also from Girvan. Maxwel was talking about his plays and his upbringing. Girvan had inspired his breakout play ‘Decky Does a Bronco’ and much other writing.

I hadn’t seen the play – in fact to my shame, I haven’t saw any of his plays performed*, only a few snippets from a filmed performance of ‘Decky Does a Bronco’ on YouTube.

But I remember those swings in Victory Park, the nearby roundabout, which was vaguely threatening in a sort of low-budget Dr Who way. What was underneath it – cadavers and rats? When we spun around, were we messing with time, were we torturing souls?

Everyone on that playground was too old to be there. All of us with pasty complexions. The older boys in fake leather jackets were the ones who could do the ‘bronco’ on the swings. It seemed like an angry, dangerous thing. A kind of vandalism somehow. Like the arc of the swing was a scream at the world.

Somehow though, in my memory, it’s always nighttime, it’s been raining, it’s winter, it’s bloody cold, and all of the boys and the girls have no money and nowhere to go. All suffering from the desolation of boredom, an emotion peculiar to teenagers back then, and at the time, something we thought was unique to our corner of Scotland.

Well, maybe boredom and an ever-present slight sense of dread, because this was Girvan, and out there in the semi-urban darkness, the local bullies and nutters were prowling the backroads, the council estates, the high street and the harbour. Circling in to inflict bodily harm, as grievously as possible.

They liked to solve their boredom with violence.

Born in 1974, Maxwel’s plays have been performed all over the world and hearing the playwright talk about Girvan was exciting and disorientating. I was born in 1967, and more or less left the town when I was 18. So if I met him, I don’t remember it. I worked a couple of years at The Derby Café, the last chip shop in that part of town and a mecca for kids wanting chip rolls and cola, ciggies and bubble gum. Mods and rockers would mix, even the odd skinhead and punk, motorcycles and Vespa scooters lined up in a row.

Now in my 50s, I still tell people that was the best job – the happiest job I ever had.

I just hope if Maxwel remembers me, it’s not as one of the nutters.

So, Girvan Blues. Maybe it’s a 50s thing, when you start to lose people you love and the people who are left look ever more fragile. Your kids are older – now teenagers. Do they ever get bored the way we did? Or maybe it’s a distance thing. I got my teenage wish after all. I don’t even live in Scotland. I found my place in the world. And yet. I remember. Things I remember and misremember.

For instance, I remember when my widow mother quit alcohol for good she became addicted to Lucozade. Cupboards full of the bright yellow bottles in their plastic cellophane wrapping. Enough sugar to power Ravenscraig.

She went to AA meetings and netted the heart of a fisherman. A man who loved her so much, he gave up the sea for 12-hour shifts in a landlocked textile factory, where he pulled backbreaking bags of fabric out of barn-high bays, and loaded them into a van-sized barrow, ready for taking over to the dye plant across the road.

Further back still, I remember the time before she met her future husband. A single mother with seven kids. How she coped was a question I failed to ask her. I was the youngest of the seven, so was the most protected.

I remember how when we walked home from school near the start of the summer holidays, the mothers on our road would sit on the porch steps, smoking and sunning their deeply private worries. Not talking, just a nod here or there, waiting for the children to come home. Sipping hot tea from chunky coloured mugs. Or a tall glass of sparkling Lucozade.

They would turn their heads as a flock whenever a new kid rounded the corner. The afternoon was warm and timeless. A radio played. This small-town world beautiful and no disgrace.

When I turned the corner, in that soft flare of early summer light, my mother adjusted her gaze, flattened her skirt. Stood up and waved.

December 2017

‘Girvan Blues’ by Karen Ashe is published in The Bridport Prize Anthology 2017.

‘Decky Does A Bronco’ and many other plays written by Douglas Maxwell for young people and adults are published by independent drama publisher Oberon Books.

Colin Walsh is an Irish writer. His prize-winning story ‘The Flare That Carves Itself Through The Dark’ can be read and listened to here.

‘Unsolved’, a novel by Mark Gallacher about a town called Navrig, located somewhere between Maybole and Lendalfoot is available as an e-book on Amazon. Mark has also had stories and poetry about Girvan published in literary magazines, anthologies and online. He has been shortlisted for the Fish Short Story Prize and published in New Writing Scotland. He lives in Denmark with his wife and two sons.

*At the time of writing, Mark purchased ‘Our Bad Magnet’ and ‘The Whip Hand’.

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remywrites5 · 5 years ago

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hiiii i really love your blog and i may or may not have spent the weekend binge reading your posts.... 😂 anyway i’ve had a kinda shitty day and i was wondering if you could maybe write something with james x regulus? if not that’s totally fine haha thank you!!!!!!

Hi nonny! I’m pretty sure this ask is like years old and I’m really sorry it took me so long! You probably don’t even follow me anymore but if you do I hope your days have gotten better! But either way here’s a little something for you:

***

“Oi, Jamie,” Sirius said, poking his head into James’ room. “Just a reminder that my brother is coming to visit for the weekend.”

James groaned. “Sirius, no!” he complained, shutting his chemistry book. “You’ll disappear with Remus for the entire weekend and I’ll be stuck babysitting your brother, who I’ve never even met!”

Sirius rolled his eyes. “First of all, Reg is only a year younger than us, you won’t be babysitting anyone. Second of all, we’re all going to a party at Mckinnon’s tonight so you won’t be stuck alone with him the whole time.”

“Just part of the time?”

Sirius shrugged. “I mean I’ll do my best…”

“God, you’re the worst fucking friend,” James grumbled, opening his chemistry book back up and attempting to cram for his test later that day.

“Oh and Jamie?”

“Yes?

“Don’t be a prick, alright?

Sirius ducked out of the way as a chemistry book went flying towards his head.

***

“Honey, we’re home,” Sirius sing-songed as he arrived back from picking Regulus up from the train station. James sighed and got out of bed, figuring he might as well try to be nice to the intruder. It wasn’t that James was opposed to people visiting for the weekend, it was just that Sirius and Remus were attached at the hip, and James hadn’t been making any progress with Evans. He knew it was selfish, but he hated other people being happy when he was fairly miserable. The last thing he wanted to do this weekend was hang around some snotty-nosed younger sibling.

He stepped out into the hallway and saw the Black brothers together for the first time. It wasn’t hard to tell they were related, same inky black hair, same impossibly high cheekbones, matching grey eyes. But where Sirius was all rough edges and rock and roll, Regulus was all smooth and posh. Unlike Sirius, who kept his hair long and shoulder length and a decent amount of stubble on his face, Regulus had his hair styled, cut short on the side and long on top to fall into his eyes in a very chic way. He was also clean-shaven and James could only imagine he had all kinds of fancy potions and after-creams to give him that effect.

“Hello,” Regulus said, holding his hand out to James, already being ever so polite. “You must be James. It’s nice to meet you.”

“Nice to meet you too,” James said, making the handshake a little rougher than was strictly necessary.

Sirius grinned broadly and threw his arms around each of their shoulders, drawing them close to him. “My two brothers, together at last!”

“Gerroff,” James growled, shoving Sirius away and into Regulus.

Sirius shrugged and hugged Regulus more thoroughly. “I’m so happy you’re here!”

Regulus blushed, his eyes meeting James and then darting away quickly. “Yes, you kept saying on the ride over here.”

James snorted. “I’ll put some tea on.”

***

The party was already in full swing by the time they’d gotten there. Marlene lived in a flat off campus with a few other girls and even though it was bigger than the dormitories, it still couldn’t really fit the amount of people currently occupying it. Just moving around the party was like swimming through jelly. James had spilled at least a cup and a half of beer on himself just from trying to navigate the party.

As predicted, Sirius ditched them the moment they got to the party and he found the familiar head of his favorite tawny-haired nerd. James hadn’t exactly been keeping the closest eye on Regulus since then but he was slightly alarmed when he realized Reg wasn’t close by. “Fucking great,” James mumbled to himself, trying to finish his drink just as someone knocked his elbow and the entire contents of his red solo cup splashed over his face. “Fuck this.”

James edged his way towards the door and somehow managed to get it open. Getting outside was a relief, being able to smell something other than booze and sweat. He shoved his glass up to the top of his head and lifted his shirt up to wipe his face clean. When he replaced his glasses, he noticed a figure in his periphery. He turned his head to find Regulus leaning against the building smoking a cigarette. He looked a bit like an ad from a magazine, the way his leg was bent so his foot could rest against the wall behind him, his face tilted back to reveal the pale expanse of his neck. James swallowed thickly. He was absolutely not going to fancy his best mate’s little brother. Regulus was Off Limits.

James walked down the front steps of the building and stood in front of Regulus. “Does Sirius know you smoke?” he asked, raising a judgmental eyebrow at the younger man.

“Is it his business?” Regulus countered, taking a long drag from his ciggy and blowing it intentionally in James’ face in a very obvious fuck off.

James waved his hand in front of his face to clear the smoke and exhaled loudly in disapproval. Christ, he sounded so much like his dad. “You’re nothing like what I imagined.”

“Yeah?” Reg said, flicking ash onto the ground below. “What were you imagining? A toddler?”

James shrugged. “You hear the words little brother and you’re not exactly what people picture, alright?”

“Sirius never showed you a picture of me?” Regulus asked, sounding a little hurt by the prospect.

“He has,” James said quickly, not wanting to give Reg the wrong idea. Sirius actually talked about him a lot, constantly worrying about Reg being stuck at home with their awful parents while Sirius was at University. At least next year Reg would be joining them and Sirius could stop being so concerned all the bloody time. “I just think most of the pictures he’s shown me were from when you were a lot younger. Still had your spots.”

Regulus smiled and took another drag. “He’s shown me pictures of you too,” he said, his smile becoming a little more sinister. “The one when you fell asleep drunk and he glued the deer horns to your head.”

James groaned in humiliation. “The next time I see Sirius he’s a dead man!”

Regulus laughed and dropped his cigarette, sliding his designer shoes over it to put it out. “What are friends for, right?”

“Yeah,” James said, trying not to sound sad as he said it. He was happy for Sirius and Remus, he really was. The first few months of Uni had been torture, watching Sirius and Remus dance around each other, both clearly interested but not saying it. It had been a relief to see them finally get over their shit and get together. But that didn’t mean James didn’t miss the old days of the three of them being friends, not that they weren’t still friends, but things had changed.

***

Sirius, of course, went over to Remus’ after the party, leaving James to get Regulus set up on their beat up old sofa. He pulled out the only spare blankets they had, just a thin sheet, and did his best to make it look comfortable. He showed Regulus how to work the telly, in case he wasn’t ready for bed, and then disappeared into his own room.

His curiosity got the best of him and he found Regulus’ instagram fairly easily. He thanked his lucky stars that it wasn’t a private account because having Reg know that he was looking was a bit too embarrassing. He began scrolling through the pictures and felt his mouth go dry. Reg knew how to take an amazing photo. James stared in disbelief that the same guy that was currently on his shitty sofa, watching what sounded to be That 70’s Show, could be the same person in these photos.

His eyes were glued to the screen as he swiped through picture after picture, his body heating up in response. Not good, he thought, trying and failing to remind himself that this was Sirius’ younger brother. Kill me now.

He was just about to slid his hand under the covers and do something about the ache between his legs when the door to his room opened. James dropped his phone in surprise and sat up, hoping he wasn’t tenting the blankets in an obvious way.

Regulus made his way over and slipped into James’ bed without asking. James stared at him, his throat working to try and swallow, and he watched in horror and Reg made himself comfortable.

“What are you doing?” James asked, his mind racing, trying to think of anything to make his erection go away.

Regulus shrugged. “It’s freezing and your sofa is a piece of shit.”

“Then go sleep in Sirius’ bed,” James said, dragging his hand over his face. This could not be happening to him.

“It would still be freezing,” Regulus rationalized, sinking further into the blankets. “This way we can share body heat.”

James stared at him incredulously.

Regulus sighed. “Don’t be such a baby, James. Just think of it as survival mode, right?”

James nodded and got back under the covers, taking care that no part of him was touching Regulus. “Good night,” he said awkwardly, his eyes wide open. He didn’t think he’d be getting much sleep.

“Good night.”

***

James woke up feeling good. He was warm and comfortable, and except for the arm he was sleeping on that had gone numb, he felt wholly relaxed. It took a moment for his brain to clear the fog and realize that he was spooning Reg. His nose was pressed against the nape of Reg’s neck and they were slotted together from that point of contact down to their feet. James’ crotch was pressed against Reg’ bum and Christ there was no way he couldn’t feel how hard James was.

Regulus began to stir, his body shifting and James’ hand flew up and grabbed him by the hips to still him. Reg turned his head and smiled wickedly. “Problem, Potter?” he teased, moving his hips just to be a little shit.

James ripped himself away and tore the covers off, heading into the bathroom. He turned the water to as cold as he could stand it and stood under the spray. Not good, he thought having a crisis right there in the shower. Sure, he’d been attracted to blokes before. This wasn’t a sexual identity crisis because James was bi and proud and would kick the shit out of anyone that had a problem with that.

The issue was that this was Sirius’ brother and James was fairly certain Sirius would never forgive him. And more importantly Regulus was only there for the weekend. There was no point to be getting all hot and bothered about it. Except that next year Reg would be at this school with them. Shit, James was so utterly and completely fucked.

Once he’d calmed down, he stepped out of the shower and slung a towel around his waist. He ventured out into the hallway and found Regulus waiting for him. “Have a good cold shower, did we?” he asked, his eyes shinning knowingly.

“Fuck off, Reg,” James growled, pushing past him towards his room.

“You liked one of my pictures,” Reg said to James’ retreating back.

“What?” James asked, spinning around, droplets falling from his skin onto the floor.

Regulus took a step towards him but didn’t close the distance between them any further. “Last night, you liked one of my pictures on Instagram. That’s why I came into your room. I thought maybe you had done it on purpose, but I guess it was just an accident, huh?” Regulus laughed awkwardly and scratched at his eyebrow idly.

James processed what Reg had just said, trying to get past his mortification at having done something so stupid, and went right to Reg coming into his room after knowing James was stalking him online. “So last night…” James started, trying to think of the night words. “Just what were you hoping for?”

“I don’t know,” Reg responded, staring at the floor. “Something like this morning except without the part of you running away like a frightened deer?”

James stepped closer, bridging the gap between them a bit. “Why?” he asked, reaching out and tugging Regulus closer by his sleep shirt. Reg stumbled a bit but went willingly. “You don’t even know me.”

Regulus blushed prettily and ducked his head down. “I feel like I do,” he murmured softly. “On his visits home Sirius would talk about you constantly. You were almost like – fuck – like a fairytale character to me. I kept pressuring Sirius for a visit because I wanted to meet you. God, you must think I’m a stupid little kid with a crush. Please, don’t say anything to Sirius about all this. He’ll never let me hear the end of it.”

“Then how will I tell him we’re dating?” James asked, smiling mischievously.

Regulus shook his head. “Please don’t take the piss right now,” he begged softly. “I don’t think my ego can handle it after this morning.”

James cupped Regulus’ chin and forced the younger man to meet his gaze. James smiled kindly and traced Reg’s full lips with his thumb. “I wasn’t taking the piss. Although I should probably warn you that I am a bit of a cock-up. I don’t think dating me will be the fairytale you imagined.”

Regulus bit James’ thumb playfully. “I don’t care,” he said, smiling at James. “Even the beast had some good qualities.”

“I notice you’ve cast yourself as beauty in the scenario.”

“You don’t think I’m pretty?” Regulus said, batting his eyelashes.

James chuckled. “I think you’re gorgeous,” he said honestly, “And also trouble.”

Regulus grinned. “You don’t mind a bit of trouble, do you, James?” he challenged, raising an eyebrow.

“Not at all.”

#jegulus #i write things #background wolfstar #university au #I've been writing a lot of those lately #long post #fluff #I actually wrote something where they don't kiss #it feels wrong

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