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helnjk · 4 years ago

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In a Crowd of Thousands - Part 2 // F.W.

Fred Weasley x fem!reader

Word Count: 3.1k

Summary: You never really forget your childhood love. For Princess Y/N of Diagon, hers came in the form of a boy whose dream it was to start a business and support his family. As it goes, life–and her duty to her kingdom–had gotten in the way. She longed to see him again, to see the success she was sure he had achieved. Luckily, fate was on her side.

Warnings: food mention, alcohol mention (champagne, blink and you’ll miss it), gambling mention (it’s a small bet, blink and you’ll miss it again)

A/N: okay but im lowkey proud of this part. this is the last official ‘chapter’ of this mini series, and i’m really excited to share it with y’all hihi xx

(also also, there’s a bonus part at the end that you don’t have to read but i love it lol)

flashbacks are in italics

Prologue | Part 1

The grand ballroom of the palace was packed with people.

Princess Y/N of Diagon sighed internally as her eyes swept over its expanse. At 21 years old, she was mere months away from her coronation. And, as tradition dictated, a ball was being held in her honor and she avoided it until the last minute that she could.

To be quite honest, she thought that the idea of a ‘presentation’ was completely outdated and there was absolutely no need for it. She was more than familiar with her people and she didn’t need this night of frivolity and grandiosity to prove it.

When Minerva first brought up the idea of having to fake a smile and discuss politics in a stuffy room with a bunch of aristocrats, Y/N immediately rolled her eyes. She knew that it was tradition for her to be ‘presented’ to her kingdom, but she also knew that those invited to the ball would not be able to speak for the majority of her subjects. They would be nobles, far too uptight and far too removed from the masses to know what they would truly need.

They were exactly the kind of people the princess tried very hard to avoid when she went on her rounds throughout the towns and met with people of all walks of life.

The Princess was very dedicated to living out her goal of being a fair and just leader. From the moment she turned 16, she made it a point to immerse herself in the lives of those who relied on her for, well, everything. Though, much of the fire under her had to do with the initials etched into the trunk of a tree that stood tall and proud by the banks of the river.

Her reaction to the news of the ball, however, wasn’t appreciated by her governess. Not that she needed a governess anymore, but Y/N would always be grateful for the strong and steady presence that Minerva had been her whole life.

“Oh don’t look at me like that,” she defended, crossing her arms over her chest, “Even you know how useless these kinds of things are.”

Minerva merely shook her head and tried to look stern, “Yes, well, it is tradition, at least try and enjoy yourself. You are not expected to speak with investors and nobles all night, and there will be many opportunities to eat and to dance!”

“As long as my corset isn’t too tight, I think I can manage an evening with the snooty elite.”

“My dear I hope you know that you are a part of the snooty elite.”

True to her word, Y/N managed to get through several conversations without any sarcastic remarks or backhanded compliments. In fact, she found herself enjoying the party much more than she had anticipated. The music was lovely, the food phenomenal, and she daresay her dress was absolutely stunning.

She was fetching herself a drink when a familiar voice spoke next to her, “Well don’t you clean up nicely, sweetheart.”

“Lord Black!” the princess exclaimed, turning to him and letting out one of the few genuine smiles of the night. “I wasn’t aware you were going to be attending the ball! If I did, I would’ve stuck by your side the moment I entered.”

The older man’s eyes crinkled at the compliment and he leant in for a warm hug.

Sirius Black was one of the only aristocrats that the Princess actually held a fondness for. The moment the pair met at one of the first few meetings the King and Queen had allowed her to attend, Y/N knew that he was of the right sort.

He came from very very old money, but once his parents had passed and he was given access to the Black fortune and title, he began to make very good changes wherever he could. He was a silent investor in many business ventures, and more often than not, the businesses he chose to support would end up flourishing.

“Anything new and exciting to tell me about?” Y/N asked, taking a sip of her sickly sweet champagne.

Sirius’ eyes lit up at the question, “I met a very promising pair of brothers–twins, actually. Their minds are as sharp as a knife, and they’ve got the most absurd ideas! Brilliant, but absurd. I think they can make it work.”

“I’m excited to hear more about them, then.”

The pair spent a good amount of time chatting away, seeking refuge at one of the emptier tables and settling. This was a great compromise for the Princess, who was hitting two birds with one stone as she spoke to someone she enjoyed the company of as well as someone who was a part of the ‘snooty elite’.

He spoke about his godson and how he was learning to walk and absolutely terrorizing his parents. In return, she told him about how the coronation planning was driving her up the wall. It felt good to be this open and genuine with someone, especially at a function like the one they were attending.

Sirius was in the middle of an exciting anecdote about Harry’s adventures with his mother’s makeup when Y/N caught a glimpse of fiery red hair.

Her heart stopped and leaped simultaneously in her chest.

As if they were being pulled by a magnet, her eyes focused solely on the familiar silhouette weaving in and out of the crowd. Her tunnel vision allowed her to see him and only him, and her mind began to go on overdrive.

“Princess?”

She barely registered the older man calling out to her, too distracted by the thought of seeing him again. Of being in the same place as him again. Of finally speaking the words she held in her heart for years to him.

“Excuse me for a moment,” was all she managed to get out.

Y/N could hear her blood rushing to her ears as she pushed through the, frankly too many, people in the way of her and her best friend. She didn’t care if she wasn’t behaving in a way that a Queen-to-be should be behaving, she didn’t care about any niceties at the moment. The last few years for her were spent almost completely alone, without her favorite redhead by her side, and she would be damned if she was going to let this opportunity slip through her fingers.

If she was being honest, time hadn’t done much to settle the grief she felt over the Weasleys moving away. Every little thing had reminded her of Fred and she was ashamed to admit that she wasn’t as open to new relationships–or friendships–because of the lingering feelings she harbored for the twin.

But now, now she had the chance to finally speak to him after so long. To feel the familiar comfort of his presence, to be herself and not have to worry about being the perfect royal that she was expected to be.

Everything seemed to happen in slow motion.

Y/N could see Fred, he was right there, only a few steps away with his back turned to her. He was laughing at something the person he was speaking to had said, his whole body shaking with unabashed glee. Someone in front of him called out her name as they saw her approach and she watched as he froze for a fraction of a second before turning on his heel.

Their eyes met and she paused mid-step.

The world was coated in molasses now, everything around her moving haltingly slow as they saw each other for the first time in years. All other things in the room melted away as he stepped forward, and suddenly he was standing right in front of her.

“Hi,” she breathed.

“Hi,” he replied, charmile smile and all, “I told you we’d find each other again, didn’t I?”

Y/N let out a small laugh, still in shock that Fred was really in front of her. His arms wrapped around her torso in a tentative hug, and she spared no time clinging on to him with a ferocity that surprised even her. It was almost as if she was trying to convince herself he was really and truly there. Luckily for the princess, he had no qualms with how tightly she was gripping onto him.

When she finally eased her hold, he held out his arm. “Care for a dance, Princess?”

“I’d love to.”

All eyes were on them as they walked onto the dance floor, clearly not just another pair among the others. Still, Y/N only had eyes for the man in front of her. Her eyes scanned over his features, taking note of the things that changed and the things that didn’t.

Fred was still her Fred, just older now, more confident. He had an air around him that wasn’t there the last time she saw him. It was a pleasant surprise, though, seeing him so sure of himself as he spun her around.

Music flowed around them as Y/N was dipped and twirled. She had never felt more like royalty than she had in that moment, dancing with Fred Weasley, her hand in his. Everything around them seemed to melt away as they moved through the dance floor, eyes locked and bodies pressed together.

Even when the music paused and they left the dancefloor, their hands remained intertwined.

Slowly, those in attendance began to make their leave. Some passed by the Princess to say their goodbyes and politely thank her for the night, but most knew better than to interrupt her time with someone who was clearly quite important to her.

Y/N had never been more thankful for the night to be ending.

“Didn’t know you were so popular, Y/N” Fred teased after another nobleman bid her goodnight.

“I am a Princess after all,” she replied, watching the man leave.

“And a damn good one, I’ve heard.”

She turned to look at him, “Been asking around about me, have you?”

The look he gave her nearly made her swoon. It was full of affection and admiration, taking the princess off guard.

Instead of answering, he merely cocked his head in the direction of the exit, saying “Fancy a walk through the grounds? I hear it’s been decorated quite beautifully for the night.”

After spending so much time packed in a crowded room, it was a welcome relief to be in the cool evening air. True to Fred’s word, the gardens looked spectacular. Lights glittered through every little nook and cranny, the soft trickling of water from the fountains filling the air. It felt like something from a fairytale.

The pair of them walked together in a peaceful silence, sneaking glances at each other every once in a while. It wasn’t until they found themselves in front of the old weeping willow that they paused.

“Remember this place?” Fred chuckled, his eyes scanning over the draping branches covered in glittering lights.

“How could I forget?”

For the first time that night since they had seen each other, Y/N let go of Fred’s hand. She gently moved aside the curtain of leaves in front of them and stepped into their childhood sanctuary. Fred had to take a moment just to take in the sight of her, a vision in the midst of a sea of stars.

His heart stuttered in his chest.

“Do you remember what we promised each other here?” he asked again, eyes shifting to the trunk behind her.

“It’s on my mind more often than not,” she admitted, feeling heat creep up her neck.

If he noticed how flustered she got, he didn’t comment. Instead, he said, “Me too.”

Y/N was right in front of the trunk now, running her fingers over the indented wood. Nimble digits pausing when they brushed over their initials. Fred couldn’t see her expression, but he could tell that there were many things running through her mind at that moment.

“I think I’ve held up my end of the bargain,” his voice filled the quiet air, “George and I have a rather successful shop in town, if I do say so myself.”

The Princess turned around to face him with a smile, her back to the tree, “I think I’m on my way to fulfilling mine.”

As they spoke, their bodies slowly inched towards each other, magnets unable to stay away. The air around them was charged, pushing the two together bit by bit. Soon, they were toe to toe, breaths mingling and eyes locking.

“I think,” Fred whispered, “I think I’m going to fulfill another dream of mine tonight.”

Time froze as his face dipped close enough for their lips to brush. Y/N let out a soft gasp as he drew close, body abuzz with nervous energy and skin alight with every touch. Fred was there to ease her mind, though, with warm hands at the small of her back and soft lips gently pressing against hers.

She felt herself melting into his arms, melting into the kiss as if it was what she was born to do. Nothing else seemed to matter at that moment.

Like waves finding their way back to the shore, crashing into each other the way only the ocean could, somehow Y/N always knew that Fred would always find his way back to her. The mere thought of it brought a smile to her face and she laughed as he kissed into her smile. Once, twice, three times.

“You are my dream,” Fred whispered once they broke apart, both of them sharing the same dopey grins.

“And you are mine,” she replied, pressing her palm to his heart.

–

The clock tower had already struck midnight when Princess Y/N and Fred decided to make their way back to the castle. The night was far too short for their liking, but it comforted them to know that they had the next day (and the next and the next, and so on) for them to spend with each other.

Their pace remained leisurely as they walked through the familiar place. The castle seemed brand new to the princess now. It was coated in a new light as she looked at it with fresh eyes and a happy heart. She came to the realization that the years spent apart from Fred were far too silent and still without him. Now that she had him by her side, the halls seemed to be filled with happiness and light.

The laughter echoing through the halls and the adrenaline pumping through her as they tried to remain unseen was a welcome feeling. It was familiar, almost intimate in a way. She was thrown back to when they were little and Fred had started teaching her about all the different secrets and passageways the castle had to offer.

“This way, Princess!” a young boy’s voice whisper-yelled to Y/N’s right.

She spun towards the direction of the sound to see Fred pulling aside a large tapestry. Behind it was a hallway she had never seen before. Her eyes widened at the sight, but she did not hesitate to duck into it.

“How did you ever find this place?” she asked, eyes scanning the narrow but comfortable passageway, “And where does it lead to?”

“I spend a lot of time running away from mother,” Fred shrugged. That earned him a laugh from the princess and he let himself feel smug. “This is a shorter way back up to your room, if you’re ever in a hurry.”

Now, instead of shortcuts and easy ways to get from one place to the other, the pair found themselves taking their time. Fred would tug on her hand and bring them into an empty alcove, stealing kisses and sharing soft smiles. His body was warm, a comforting presence beside hers, and Y/N found herself leaning against his side more often than not.

By the time they found themselves outside the Princess’ chamber doors, they were giggling like little children, running away from governesses and mothers.

Y/N’s back was pressed against the door suddenly as Fred’s body enveloped hers in a searing kiss. Her heart beat erratically in her chest as her hands found themselves clutching at his coat.

Then, as quick as he had come, Fred pulled away with a smirk, “Until we see each other next, Princess?”

She scoffed, “If you think I don’t have the resources to track you down and kill you for saying that, you’re wrong.”

“I’m only joking,” he grinned and wrapped an arm around her waist, pulling her to him once again, “We always find our way back to each other, don’t we?”

The princess rolled her eyes, but he could see the edges of her lips trying–and failing–not to quirk up.

BONUS

Sirius watched as the Princess hastily stood up from her seat next to him and hurried off in the direction of Fred Weasley. The same Fred Weasley he had been working with for the past few months.

He tried not to stare, but it was too tempting not to. His eyes followed the girl as she deftly wove through the throng of people–people who tried to grab her attention to no avail. It was clear that she had a goal in mind and she wouldn’t stop until she got what she wanted.

He watched as they locked eyes, as they shared identical smiles, as they glided through the dance floor and eventually made their way towards the gardens. It was almost ridiculous how elated he felt at the sight.

The chair beside him made a sound as it was pulled back and he turned to see who had taken a seat beside him. Sirius tried to ignore the man next to him, the man who gave him nothing but a smug smile, but it was useless.

“Enjoying yourself?” he asked, lips quirking slightly.

“I think you owe me a few galleons,” Remus replied, looking very pleased. He cleaned up quite well in his navy blue suit, and Sirius had to hold back from causing a scene in the middle of a very prestigious ball just so that he could show Remus how much he loved him.

Sirius rolled his eyes fondly, “So quick to judge the events that transpired this evening, Moony.”

The look his husband gave him was enough for him to dig into his pockets for a few of the gold coins. Remus held out his hand, opening and closing it in front of him smugly.

“You know,” Sirius said as he pressed the money into Remus’ palm, “When I made a bet against you, saying I was positive that the woman Fred was in love with was not the Princess, I really thought I was going to win.”

Remus pressed a kiss on his cheek and smiled, “Never bet against me, love, you’re never going to win.”

Series Taglist: @prismarts @snoopydoop1 @the-romanian-is-bae @demoiselle-en-detresse00 @manuosorioh @daltonacademia

General taglist: @expectoevans @george-fabian-weasley @gxthsanrio @slytherinscribbles @harpyloon @nuttytani @mesmerisedangel @amourtentiaa @just-here-to-escape-from-reality @lumos-barnes @cherryweasleys @writingsomewrongs @the-unmanaged-mischief @mrzweasley @inglourious-imagines @pr3ttysw33t @amrtxntias @miraclesoflove @thatlonelyalto

Weasley twins taglist: @pineapplesandpinas @papapapadumb @a-castle-of--glass @hey-there-angels @leovaldez37 @pinkypurplemagic @werewolfslut @surprizeshawtyy @oldschoolkiddo @gcdricreads @turtletaylor98 @secret-obsessions @weaslxyss @serendiipty @nojamsonmytoast @famdomhideout @georgeweasley19 @asuperconfusedgirl @loonylovegood13 @lumielikesbooks @nanahachikyuu @freds-slut @theweasleytwinsgirl @ghost3rr @littlemisswitt @astoria-malfcy @weasleysprofessionalhoe @freddie-weaselbee @daydreamgirl8 @jubilee-the-flying-dragon-pirate

if your name is crossed out that means i couldn’t tag you! please check your visibility settings

#fred weasley #fred weasley fanfiction #fred weasley imagines #fred weasley imagine #fred weasley fics #fred weasley fic #fred weasley x reader #fred weasley x y/n #fred weasley au #tw food mention #tw alcohol mention #tw gambling mention

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tsukishumai · 5 years ago

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pairing: miya atsumu x f!reader

tags: fluff, strangers to lovers

word count: 2.2k

Summary: You think of all the different versions you get of Atsumu throughout the day

Nights with Atsumu were unpredictable. Your heart always skipped a beat whenever you received one of his “are you free tonight?” texts, excitement never failing to course through your veins.

Miya Atsumu was an adventure.

He had been that way from the very first night you met him, crashing into him at a music festival your friends had dragged you to.

You had been lost for the past hour - separated from your group when you had mistakenly taken the wrong turn while trying to look for the restrooms. You’ve tried calling them time and time again, but the sheer amount of people at the event must have been doing something to the phone lines. None of your calls or texts were going through.

You mumbled a hurried apology, and you could practically feel the way he raked his gaze over your appearance. Though, there was nothing presentable about your current state; your hair (previously curled and styled carefully) was pulled up into a messy bun, dirt from the festival grounds stained your shoes and pants, and the expression on your face was nothing short of stressed.

“You lost, hun?” He had asked. While you would usually cringe at the pet name coming from a strangers mouth, the slight drawl of his accent made it sound sweet, and you couldn’t help but nod.

“It’s my first time coming to this festival - I have no idea where anything is.”

He nodded in understanding. “It can get pretty confusing if ya don’t know what you’re looking for,” he sighed out, reaching a hand out for you to take, “Come on, I’ll help you find em.”

Even then, having known the man for merely two minutes, you were never hesitant in taking his hand.

He quickly told his own group of the current situation, setting up a meet up spot for the end of the night in case Atsumu wasn’t able to find his way back to them in time.

(That was smart. You guys should have done that.)

You wondered why the blonde boy bothered to take the time out of his night to help you. Hadn’t he spent his own money to be here with his friends?

When you had asked him this question, he simply shrugged. “It wouldn’t be right of me to leave a beautiful girl all alone and lost in this huge festival now, would it?”

You didn’t find your friends for the rest of the night. You had instead spent it with Atsumu, jumping from stage to stage, claiming “maybe we’ll find them there?” but really, his favorite artist was up and he didn’t really want to miss it.

It shocked you how natural it felt to be with him; easy conversation flowed naturally, and the initial mission of his company was quickly forgotten, replaced instead with the dizzying thrill of his fingers wrapped around your wrist to make sure he didn’t lose you in the crowd.

“This is my favorite band,” he yelled into your ear, twirling you in circles as you danced along to the beat pummeling out of the speakers.

“I can see why!” You smiled at him, and the freedom you were feeling in that moment, dancing with a stranger that was quickly becoming a friend, was a better high than any drug.

Atsumu couldn’t dance at all - this was something you had pointed out during the second set you had watched together - but there was something in the way he just stuck his tongue out at you and continued to flail his limbs in some semblance of a rhythm with such confidence that you couldn’t help but find charming.

“Y/N!”

The frantic crying of your name made you whip your head around, and you see your best friend running over to you.

“We’ve been looking for you everywhere!”

You let your best friend scold you for going missing for four hours, pushing down the feeling of embarrassment as Atsumu snickered at you.

“Thanks for keeping me company,” you said, turning to him one last time before finally joining your original pack.

“Anytime,” he smiled, then pulled his phone out of his pocket before handing it to you, “Mind returning the favor some day?”

The grin on your face was brighter than any of the lights surrounding the stage, quickly entering your number and saving it.

It wasn’t even two days after the festival before you received your first invitation out from Atsumu.

There were nights when he took you out to his favorite bar on a Thursday night because shots were 2-for-1 on Thursdays. The two of you would always run into more than one for Atsumu’s friends, and you were more than happy to allow them to indulge you in one or two embarrassing stories of Atsumu. The smile on your face grew wider each time his blush would deepen, and you didn’t know you could find him more endearing than you already do.

There were nights when he would whisk you away to a secret spot in a part of the city you had never been to. “It’s a little bit of a hike,” he’d warn you. You’d have half a mind to reprimand him for letting you wear your new shoes knowing the path would be dirty, but you were shut up by the views. Atsumu came prepared with a blanket to lay down on, taking out snacks and drinks from the backpack he was carrying. Your heart clenched at his thoughtfulness, laying down to stare at the stars peppering the sky. “The moon looks really full,” you said. “Yeah, just like my heart is for you,” he cooed. You would share a laugh, shoving him slightly, but hoping with everything that he meant it.

There were nights when he would take you to visit his brother’s onigiri shop. He would always take you either at closing time or after, ensuring that the three of you had the place to yourself. You could feel this to be some sort of test - test of what, you weren’t sure but you knew you wanted to pass it. Osamu would bring out off the menu flavors, using the two of you as his test subjects. You and Atsumu would exaggerate your judgements, commenting as if you were judges on Top Chef. “The consistency of the rice provided a good mouth feel,” you commented, rubbing a hand on your chin. “The flavors meld together perfectly, creating a refined taste suitable for any palate,” Atsumu replies, and the two of you would burst out laughing, Osamu rolling his eyes and asking you to be serious.

It was after one of those nights, belly and heart full from the nonstop eating and laughing. Atsumu walked you all the way up to your door, saying it’s much too late for you to be on your own. With your key in the door, you turned to say your good bye, only to be met by the softness of atsumu’s lips.

Nights were when Miya Atsumu let you into his world.

.・゜゜・　　・゜゜・．

Afternoons were rarely spent with Atsumu.

You would think that sharing an apartment with the blonde setter would afford you more quality time, but he mostly spent his afternoons chasing his dreams.

You’ll never forget the afternoon the two of you had found out he had made onto his first pro-volleyball team; he was officially an MSBY Jackal. Happy tears were shed, on your part, but more so on his. Excitement stamped all over his face as he claimed he still had so much work to do.

You never held it against him when he came home late at night, the only interaction you’d have would be the kiss he placed on your forehead before climbing into his side of the bed. You didn’t mind that even though you were now living together, this was the most time you two would spend apart. It wasn’t like you were just waiting around; you had a job you loved and were dedicated to.

He never let you missed him too much, though.

“Are we almost there?” Atsumu gasped out, and you just threw your head back and laughed.

“What’s wrong? I thought volleyball players were supposed to have monstrous thighs or whatever?”

Atsumu grumbled. “Yes, but that doesn’t mean it isn’t exhausting to scale a damn mountain!”

“Always so dramatic,” you mused, skipping ahead of him on the trail. Atsumu had a rare day off from practice, and insisted on doing whatever you wanted for the day. He was hoping you were going to say ‘let’s cuddle and stay in!’ Or ‘I want to go to that cafe I saw on Insta!’

But no, you went with “I want to go on a hike!”

It was his own fault, really. Ever since he would take you to look at the stars, you made it your mission to find all the little gems in your city.

“I swear to god, I’m gonna faint,” Atsumu placed the back of his hand on his forehead, “Please tell me we’re almost to the top!”

You grabbed his hand, pulling him up the last few steps of the trail.

“Ta da,” you sang out, out stretching your arms to present the view from the top.

Atsumu took on a deep breath and looked at the view. From the top of the trail, all that surrounded the two of you was the color green. Green leaves from towering trees that covered the face of the mountains that surrounded you. Green shrubs that littered around the forest floor, creating a lush carpet of foliage that stretched as far as you could see. In the space between the mountain ranges, Atsumu could see a hint of the ocean that lies beyond, and he could almost taste the salty air that always made his hair wavy.

The beauty of the earth surrounded him, reminding him of life flourishing all around, and all he could really look at was you.

The color of your eyes that sparkled like uncut gems when caught by the golden rays of the sun that was now nearing its highest peak in the sky could rival the most vibrant green nature could produce. The smile on your face was more blinding than the summer sun. All he could see was the beauty of the love that he knows only you could give him.

Afternoons were rarely spent with Atsumu, but he’s thankful for every chance he gets to be part of your world.

.・゜゜・　　・゜゜・．

Mornings with Miya Atsumu were lazy, and intimate.

The habit of early mornings were hard to break, and regardless of whether you set an alarm or not, the both of you would stir awake at the crack of dawn.

You could feel Atsumu’s heated breath on the back of your neck as he wrapped an arm around your waist. “Good morning,” he would mumble, voice still thick with last nights sleep, dripping into your ears like fresh honey.

“Good morning,” you would reply back, turning around to bury your face into his chest. You loved the way he would always pull you closer, as if there was no wya you could be close enough, trying to fuse you into his own body. You don’t care that you can’t really breathe in this position - there was no where else you would rather be.

Though you were willing to stay that way forever, it was only a matter of time before life interrupts peace and demands to be lived. After a few more soft kisses placed on any bare skin lips could get too, maybe a few fingers brushing through your rats nest of a hair, Atsumu always was the first get up out of bed. You’d try to beg him for a few more minutes, but he’d make you laugh and say “I’d love to doll, but my bladders bout to burst all over our sheets,” and you can’t do anything but laugh and let him go.

Atsumu always showered first since his days started earlier, and you would make your way downstairs to make coffee for the both of you. You usually drank it black, but you made Atsumu’s with a little extra cream. He never asks you to, but you always packed him a lunch and snacks to take to practice, leaving little notes with words of affirmation to get him through the day. The look of pure admiration and love you get when you simply hand him a lunch box, thermos, a peck on the lips, and a prayer for safety; you think this must be true happiness.

You walk back up to the bathroom to start your morning routine, and feel warmth spread all over when you see that he’s set up your toothbrush on the sink with a glob of toothpaste on top and a little cup of mouthwash prepared and ready for you to use.

You loved Miya Atsumu at all hours of the day, but mornings just might be your favorite.

In the morning, Miya Atsumu was just for you.

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sondrawr · 4 years ago

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Where Monsters Dwell

“What kind of place is this?” “The kind of place where fairy tales live and monsters dwell.” —Smoke Bitten

Adam Hauptman is intimately acquainted with fear. It was born in a jungle in Vietnam and never quite left him. Even in his happiest moments—of which there were many, especially recently—it lurks in the fringes. Lying in wait.

When he sees Mercy broken on the burnt grass, seemingly dead, he feels that fear claw up his chest and strangle him. He blacks out for god knows how long, his worst fear playing like a feedback loop in his mind. It isn’t until Samuel, still wolf, bites him in the arm that he finally comes to.

That’s how Adam finds himself, naked and half covered in blood, cradling Mercy’s body. His pack huddles around him, worry creasing their faces. He feels the stink of his fear billowing out of him like smoke, choking everyone around him.

“She’s alive, damn it!” Gary finally manages to gasp. He is panting, voice raspy. How long had he been trying to tell him?

Adam reaches down into himself and feels for that thread-thin bond that connects him to his heart’s mate. It’s there, flickering. He grasps it in both hands, wrapping it around his wrist, anchoring himself to sanity. To her.

Mercy survives that night, like she has done so often before. But one day her luck will run out; his fear whispers the words he knows too well. She’s not like Coyote—damn the man—who resurrects like the sun every morning.

Adam hates beyond telling that her unconquerable spirit is wrapped in such an insubstantial thing as human skin and bones.

:::

Adam first met Mercy Thompson in Montana when she was about thirteen years old. He was up on business, Alpha of a New Mexico pack and newly engaged to a blonde, 22-year-old coed named Christy.

Mercy at the time, before the deaths of her foster parents robbed her of childhood, was still all scraped knees and awkward arms of adolescence. Jutting chin and slumped shoulders—defiant and bored.

There was a ghost of a bruise on her face from the accident where she wrapped Bran’s brand new sports car around a tree. He had heard of that incident within hours of it happening, as he suspected most wolves did, even across the ocean. Mercy’s antics were already famous.

She sat on a chair outside Bran’s office, the scuffed toe of her sneaker knocking into a leggy console table nearby. Looking at him sidelong, she had the air of someone waiting their turn at the principal’s office.

When the door finally opened to let him in, he asked, “What did she do this time?” He stepped around Bran to enter the office.

Bran’s mouth pressed flat in an irritated line, while Charles smirked in the corner. He was the one who answered: “Something about chocolate Easter bunnies.”

“She poisoned a group of boys at school,” Bran snapped, closing the door a little too roughly behind Adam.

“Really?” That seemed a bit extreme for the young girl, whose reputation for pranks were mostly harmless, if effective.

“She injected several chocolate Easter bunnies with ipecac,” Charles explained. “And then warned the boys not to steal them, or ‘they would pay.’ They, of course, did not listen. Apparently the boys had been in the habit of stealing the younger kids’ candy for a while.”

Adam laughed despite himself.

“She wants for discipline,” Bran said with a frown.

“Mercy has plenty of discipline,” Charles answered. “It’s the focus of it, that’s the problem. Her interests are too narrow and she has an overdeveloped sense of justice.”

“And her foster father can’t do anything?” asked Adam.

Charles smirked. “If Mercy were a wolf, I wouldn’t be surprised if she outranked him. Any good she does is out of love for Bryan and his mate, not because of fear or intimidation.”

That was, Adam realized, the principle by which Mercy lived her life. It was the driving force of all she did for her family and friends—the pack she forged for herself, not with magic ties but by fierce loyalty and reckless love.

:::

It has been months since she recovered from her devastating injuries. Injuries that Samuel said at first would be the end of her. Her survival is nothing short of a miracle and, Adam suspects, a bit of Coyote’s magic.

Now night holds new terrors for him. He lays in bed at night just listening to the steady beating of his mate’s fragile, mortal heart. Dreading the day when it would inevitably stop.

:::

Mercy was twenty-three when he next saw her in the middle of a Washington desert. Alone in the world but still causing trouble. The first order of business for his newly arrived pack was eliminating the rogue wolves who were harassing her. Saved without so much as a thank you.

Was it coincidence or conspiracy that brought her to the Tri-Cities when Bran had ordered Adam to move his pack north from New Mexico? Coincidence on her part probably, but definitely not Bran’s, whose machinations were wide reaching and infamous.

That Adam bought the property behind her trailer was pure, ornery spite on his part.

She had marched up to him on the first day of construction and stuck a finger in his chest. “Tell Bran that I don’t need a babysitter,” she told him, eyes flashing. “I’ve done fine for eight years without his help—I’m done with wolves.”

“Good to know,” he answered, because he knew that response would drive her crazy, and turned back toward the construction of his pack house. He imagined her making faces at the back of his head and smiled.

:::

He kisses a line down her body, pausing at the shiny-pink of each new scar. Scars she earned in defense of his pack—in defense of him.

And he knows his love is killing her.

Oh god, would her life be better without him? Yes, the fear—the monster—inside him says. Yessss. We will kill herrrrr.

Panic like bile rises in his throat, and he gulps it down. Beneath him Mercy tenses, sensing his change of mood. He murmurs quietly, nuzzling her, lulling her back into softness underneath him. His lovely Mercy. His mate, for who he would willingly lay down his soul, let alone his body.

Whom he would kill for. Without question.

This. This will be his goodbye, then.

He presses a kiss to her inner knee, to her neck, and then presses into her, drawing a sigh from her lips. With his own he continues his careful ministrations, whispering a benediction against every mark on her skin that dares to be there because of him.

:::

His touch is a disease. His touch is a curse.

He can’t bear lying next to her and not touching her, so he doesn’t. He stays late in his office. He sleeps in the spare guest room. It’s killing him, but every day she’s alive, and it’s worth it.

It’s killing him that she wanders the house with those empty eyes, a line of concern between her brows, the hurt and confusion that clearly marks her face.

But at least she is alive. And soon, it will be over.

:::

Adam’s favorite memory of Mercy—the one he thinks of before he puts the gun to his head—is of her in the wedding dress too fancy for the church reception that his pack and daughter put together. She’s dancing with Jesse, at the heart of the people he loved most in the world, swaying to a country song blasting from the church’s ancient speaker system. And she turns to him and smiles.

He can see it as clear as if it were right in front of him. There was so much love in her face then. How different are those faces, the one from his memory and the one Mercy wears at this moment, when she finally sees him for the monster he is.

But she is not disgusted and horrified, as he feared she would be. She is furious. She throws a barrage of words against him, her unfettered anger like a battering ram.

In the years Adam had known and loved Mercy, he has become intimately acquainted with her many moods. Sneaky, playful, worried, content. They were as familiar to him as the feel of Mercy’s calloused hands in his.

Her white hot rage was something entirely new. And through clenched teeth she seethes a truth so utterly profound, that in that moment it shatters the madness that grips him. He lowers the gun in his hand.

Three simple words they had spoken to each other again and again. Whispered in passion and in play. Promised—sworn.

“You are mine.”

:::

He believes her. And for now, so does the monster.

You are mine.

He follows her home, to bed. And though he can’t make love to her like he wants, he worships her body with oil and hands and mouth.

It isn’t until she is completely sated and asleep when the monster rips through his body again. A monster that he now realizes is the ugly marriage of his own fear and self loathing, and Elizaveta’s death curse.

But instead of hurting his mate like Adam fears, the monster scrabbles out from beneath the covers and huddles in the corner of the room. It sits there watching his mate, the covers rising and falling to the rhythm of her breathing.

Within a few minutes, the even breaths stutter and stop. “Adam?” she calls, voice rough with sleep.

It’s the monster that growls in response, and Adam waits. It didn’t work, he thinks. The monster is still here. Will you finally leave me like you’re supposed to?

And still he remembers her promises: You are mine. You are mine. You are mine.

“For fuck’s sake,” she says sounding annoyed. “Get back to bed. I’m cold.”

Oh, my Mercy.

After a moment, the monster cautiously approaches the bed, and it creaks under the sudden weight. It wraps itself around her, tucking her head under its chin. She draws up the covers over them both, and they settle to sleep.

For the first time in a long time Adam prays. Let this be enough. This love. Let me be enough to keep her safe.

If God is kind and he is lucky, maybe it will be.

Maybe the monster will love her, too.

#mercy thompson #mercyverse #Mercy Thompson fanfic #my writing #sondrawr writes #adam hauptman #mercyverse alphabet series

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imagines-by-a-typical-fangirl · 5 years ago

Text

The Perfect Bad Boy (Pt. 08 of 18)

Pairing: Billy Hargrove X Reader

Summary: Working as a lifeguard in the Hawkins Community Pool, you try to fit in after moving from New York. Things were going pretty well when you notice you've been under someone's stare. Billy Hargrove, Hawkins' bad boy, has been staring at you since day one. You never intended to have anything to do with him, judging by the reputation he has. But Billy won't leave you alone, determined to show you his feelings are different this time...

Word count: 2.2K

As if your heart flooding you with confusing feelings wasn't enough, there are weird, strange animals lurking in the woods... But those have to be just part of the wild live of the woods surrounding Hawkins... Right?

<- Previous part (07)

Next part (09) ->

{Stranger Things Masterlist}

Something In The Woods...

To say you're pissed is an understatement. A storm is passing by, which brought a heavy summer rain over Hawkins. And since the pool is closed when it's raining, you called Billy, inviting him over for lunch. But minutes later Monica called you to say that the manager wants to make a training session on first aid with all the lifeguards. As if you didn't know. You, as did everyone, had to go through a test before getting the job.

It's impressing to know that you wouldn't be so mad if you didn't have plans with Billy. So you make sure to close the meeting room door with a loud thud when you get in, muttering good morning to everyone before sitting beside Billy in the back.

“So much for that lunch date.” He says.

“It wasn't a date,” you tell him. “I just wanted to make a lasagna and since my aunt had to go to the clinic, I thought you'd like to join me.” Shrugging your shoulders, you give him a sassy look. Of course you wanted to spend time with him, and this rainy day would make it perfect...

“Doesn't Diane get tired of driving all the way to Indianapolis? It's a two-hour drive.”

“Diane loves driving. And she owns the clinic so she can pretty much make her own schedules.” You feel when your leg touches his. “Why do we have to do this training thing? As if we didn't know how to perform cardiopulmonary resuscitation.”

“Anthony is a dick.” He mumbles as the manager starts talking. But you don't plan to pay attention. Billy suddenly pulls your chair closer, so it's glued to his. He then puts an arm around your shoulders. “Better.”

Rolling your eyes, you pretend to listen to the long speech Anthony gives. It goes on for two hours, and you can't help but make funny comments with Billy, as he holds back the laughs, what makes the manager give you both angry stares. When the training is done, Anthony says that those who were supposed to be working today will have to stay. Which is great because it means you.

“I swear to God I'll report Anthony,” Monica complains, sitting beside you and Billy by the pool, your legs on the water. The rain stopped, but the heavy clouds are promising that more is to come. “May I sit here or will you guys make out?”

“I'm down for it if she is,” Billy smirks.

“Of course you can sit here, Mon.” You elbow him, rolling your eyes. “How's Christopher?” You decide to change the subject and tease her instead.

“He gave me this.” She shows her hand, which has a ring on it. “It's nothing but... It means something to us.”

The sweet smile on her lips brings joy to your heart. It's no doubt they're in love with each other. You wonder if you'll be attending to their weeding someday.

Your hand comes to the necklace Billy made you, which you've been wearing every day. As you feel Monica's ring has a secret meaning, known only by her and Christopher, this necklace has a secret meaning too. You give Billy a quick glance, just to check if he's wearing his. And you smile to see he is. Your stomach burns when your eyes meet, and you look away.

“You look very good together,” Mon says, gesturing at you and Billy.

“I know,” Billy says, and you can hear the cocky smile through his voice.

You elbow him again, a little harder, and you laugh at the exaggerated groan he makes. “I–” You're cut off because you're suddenly lifted and thrown in the water. You sink right before pushing yourself up again. “You idiot!” You throw water at him, and Monica moves away

“Oh, he got ya,” Mon yells in between her laughs.

“I hate you!” Using both his knees as a support, you push yourself up, grabbing him by his shirt and pulling him into the water too. You're aware he actually pushed himself because you wouldn't be able to pull him all by yourself. But you ignore it, slapping him lightly and throwing water on him.

He does the same, but soon enough he starts pulling you close. You're a breathless mess, trying to swim away from him. But, obviously, you slowly surrender, allowing him to hold you. “We should get out. Anthony won't like it.”

“As you wish, princess.” He won't push you. That much is clear.

At the end of the day, you're walking to your cars under light rain. You invited Billy for dinner since lunch was ruined by Anthony and all the small amount of power he let get to his head being the manager. He gives you a glance when you part ways. “What?”

“Come in my car.”

“But I have to drive this baby home.” You gesture at your car, walking backwards.

“Why don't you let me pick you up and drive you home from now on? Save up some gas.” It's so stupid how his smile makes you blush even from afar.

“What about your gas, Hargrove?” You ask as you get into the car. “Let's get going. That lasagna won't make itself.” Winking at him, you speed away, determined to get to your place before he does.

He does make a mess on the road since he was quick to follow that you were trying to outrun him. The dark clouds are making the night crawl in faster, and it's getting dark soon. Eventually, you both get stuck on the same red light, and you take a look at him through the review mirror. You're growing closer, way too close, but you're trying not to think about it too much. You're enjoying it, taking in all the moments you share.

You still can't force yourself to kiss him... It would make you go way too deep in this, head first, and you think you need some more time. But it doesn't mean it's not torture when he stands too close. It's a freaking war against yourself to step away. That's the big decision you've been avoiding.

Taking a deep breath, you look at your right, at the woods. This road is one of your favorites because it cuts through the forest, and you have the trees surrounding you from both sides. It looks beautiful, even through the darkness. You would certainly get lost in there. Guess you'll still need some time for that too, to get used and learn your way through Hawkins woods. A smile comes to your lips when you see something moving, among the trees. A deer, maybe. You know there are deers here. Squinting your eyes, you try to see it better, to find out what it really is. Most of its body is hidden behind a thick tree, and when it moves, slowly, you can see the head. You're suddenly taken aback because that's not a deer. It bolts away, further into the woods. A strange sensation builds up in your core. But you push it down. There must be several wild animals here, and that must be one of them... It looks more like a dog, a strange dog because its skin looked weird, naked. Sticky, even.

You're dragged out of your thoughts when Billy's speeds pass you, blasting the horns. Rolling your eyes, you set in motion too.

Billy gets to your house first, waiting by the front door with a smirk on his face. “You won the battle, Hargrove, not the war,” you say, unlocking the door and stepping in. “I saw something in the woods back there, by the way.”

“Another squirrel?”

“No, it was bigger.” You move to the kitchen and he follows you. “I thought it could be a deer but the head was shaped differently. And it looked like the fur was ripped off.”

As you start getting what you'll need for the lasagna, you wait for him to say anything. But he doesn't, so you turn to look at him. Billy is frozen, by the table, his eyes with a blank expression, suddenly glued to the floor. You've never seen him like this, worried as if there was an imminent danger around you right now. “Billy? Are you ok?” You walk over him, taking his hand. He takes a deep breath before looking at you, his eyes softening.

“Yes, I just remembered the accident. Not a very pleasant memory.”

“Well, try to relax.” You pull the chair and gestures for him to sit down, and when he does, you start trying to massage his shoulders. By what he told you, Billy had a rough life, and you hate to see how sad he gets when a bad memory hits. You like him, so very much, that you just want to make him feel better. “I suck at this, hope I'm not hurting you.”

“Uhm...” He grabs your arms and pulls you suddenly, making you bend over until both your arms are around his neck, your face is next to his. “But this is much better.”

“Jerk,” you mutter, standing back up and going to the kitchen counter. “Now come help me.”

“Immediately, ma'am.”

“So... You kept your promise,” you say, avoiding his eyes. “You've been wearing your piece.” You gesture at the earring.

“I told you I would.” He moves closer, a hand taking the earring that's around your neck. “I'm glad to see you're using your piece to, princess.”

“Stop calling me that, Billy,” you say in a low voice. The name makes you so damn nervous, and the tone he uses only makes it worse. It's low, calming... And it feels like it burns right through you.

“Why? I know you like it.”

“I–” You're interrupted by the front door being open, and Diane's light voice greeting you.

The night goes on pretty nicely. Your aunt gives you some space, only joining you for dinner. When Billy goes home, it's almost eleven. But in the next three days, the summer storm keeps the pool closed, and lucky for you, one of the days was your day off. So you went to his place, spend all day there, doing literally nothing, just laying on the couch and talking.

All the time you spend with him is never enough. You always have to go back home, and when you do, you're missing him already. You usually wake up holding the pillow and imagining how it would feel like to lay on his chest and fall asleep beside him...

Today, the storm finally was blown away, and it looks like the sun is angry for being hid for days because it's so damn hot. You've never seen the pool so crowded, and you've been walking around all day, looking out for the kids. You're drained out after lunch, and despite trying to stay on your chair, you can't. A five years old kid slipped and fell into the water, and you had to pick him up. Thankfully, he was well and resumed playing in seconds. But the sun is being rough on you today, and the heat is so much worse. Even in the shadow, you feel it like you're in a damn oven.

“(Y/N). Drink some water.” Billy hands you a bottle and you take a sip. “Have more. You're a little pale today.”

“Yeah, this place is overflowing. Half of Hawkins is here.” You tell him, eyes still scanning through the sea of people. “I need you to go back to your chair, please. The kids are crazy today, Billy, help me out.” You touch his shoulder, using his body as a support for a few seconds. “If you yell, they'll obey.”

“Alright, but drink some water every once in a while, ok?”

“Alright.” You let go of him, offering a small smile when he worriedly looks down at you.

You start pacing around again, warning the kids over and over again not to run. Your head is killing you, like the sun is hitting you with a freaking hammer. And you're so damn tired already, but the people just keep coming, diving and yelling. You're usually happy to see them having fun, but today you're beaten up as if you were hit by a car this morning. The ground bellows your feet starts moving, and you have to use the wall to regain your balance. Your throat is dry, but the cafeteria is on the other side of the pools and you're way too exhausted to walk all the way there. You decide to just head back to the chair to rest a bit.

You see white dots on your sight as you walk, struggling to move on a straight line, using one of your hands blocking the sun from your eyes. When you finally reach your chair, you breathe out in relief. You're about to push yourself up when you lose your strength, lowering your body until you're sitting on the ground.

“Are you ok?” Someone asks, and you see her figure kneeling by your side.

You nod, trying to get back up, but your body doesn't seem to work. You close your eyes shut when everything spins around, and then it just goes black.

@chloe-skywalker @dpaccione @tilesandtokens @dreamin-of-dacre @funeral-7 @uncookspaget @youhavemyfantasticbeasts

#billy hargrove x reader #billy hargrove x y/n #imagine billy hargrove #billy hargrove #billy hargrove fanfiction #billy stranger things #stranger things imagin #stranger things imagine #imagine stranger things #stranger things fanfiction

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barbecuebabybackribs · 5 years ago

Text

Emmett Cullen Having a Male Mate would include:

(I haven’t Slept in 72 hours so if this is bad I’ll rewrite it as soon as I’m able to get some proper sleep :) just let me know. This is also a long one and I hope y’all enjoy. Stay safe y’all)

Requested by: @shamelessloverhairdopainter (If this isn’t to your liking feel free to dm me and let me know)

He was not expecting you to walk in the door

Not because you’re a man, because he thought Alice would have given him a heads up

Doesn’t approach you at first, he’s to starstruck.

You notice his stare and offer him a small smile

He would normally feel slightly embarrassed for being caught gawking at you but he’s to busy being an extremely excited goofball

“Edward! What’s the new kid thinking!”

Edward had been shifting his eyes in between the two of you since the moment Emmett saw you

“He think’s your ‘kinda cute’ but is mainly confused about where he’s supposed to be going.”

“I know how to solve that!” He exclaims, slamming his hand on the table as he gets up

The man is nervous as hell walking up to you but the overwhelming urge to be near you over-rides the nerves

He forget’s about personal space for a second and walks up right behind you

“Uhm, excuse me.” He’d say tapping your shoulder

Not expecting you to flinch so hard you drop all the papers your were carrying

“Oh god I’m so sorry.” Suddenly those pesky nerves flood back

You’re still having a small heart attack as he starts to gather up your papers

“I-It’s okay, you just surprised me is all.”

Your heartbeat quickens slightly when you realize your jump scare mystery man was the cute guy who was staring at you- this does not go unnoticed by Emmett

“I’m Emmett, you just looked sort of lost so I was going to ask if you needed help.” He smirks handing your papers back.

“Oh? Was it that obvious?”

“Well the fact that you had your head stuck in a map was a dead giveaway.”

He ends up showing you around for the rest of the lunch break, talking and joking around as he does.

You didn’t know why he had decided to help you- considering everyone else just ignored you- but you were glad he did

He was glad he did too

You end up meeting everyday at lunch to hang out

Meeting up with him becomes on of the highlights of your day.

He is constantly bugging Edward and Jasper to know what you’re thinking and feeling

“Emmett If you want to know what he’s thinking just go and ask him!” Edward snaps after Emmett had caught him in a bad mood.

You overhear the conversation and although are a little confused at the context, you can’t help but get a little pissed off he was talking to Emmett like that.

Emmett awkwardly walk over to you and ask’s what your doing

“Nothing much, Hey can I ask you something?”

“Shoot.”

“Why’s your brother being such a dick?”

Emmett nearly chokes he laughed so hard

Edward sulks in the corner

After a few weeks you both get a bit restless only seeing each other during lunch but are to nervous to ask the other to hang out another time

You work up the courage to ask him to hang out outside of school tomorrow- randomly ambushing him the parking lot

“Yes!” He answers a tad to quickly, “Er, I mean that would be cool.”

Dude is absolutely pumped

Both of you realize you forgot one main part- planning what you wanted to do.

He clears his throat awkwardly “Well, If you want, you could come over to my house.”

You curse internally as you feel an unwanted blush spread across your face “Yeah, sure.”

Drives you to his house, showing you his favorite music on the way.

Has to fight back a laugh when you point out he didn’t buckle up

“Uh, can you wait here for a second?” He asks when you pull up to the house.

“Sure..”

He rushes inside and warns everyone you were here

Alice already saw it coming, everyone is on there best behavior making food for you

“Just play it cool.” He warns everyone before rushing back out to you.

“Everything alright?”

“Yup.” He answers smirking

You’re surprised when you walk in and everyone is staring at you.

“Uh... I hope it’s okay I came over.”

“Of course it is! A friend of Emmett’s is a friend of ours!” Esme beams, finally getting a look at this boy that had her son practically giddy

Emmett tugs you further into the house almost immediately, partially because he didn’t want you to feel ganged up on and also because he finally got to have some alone time with you

You end up playing a lot of video games- you lose your mind when Emmett plays Guitar Hero’s hardest level perfectly- Super speed really came in handy during gaming.

Esme and Carlisle show up in the middle of your gaming sesh with a snack for you

You gratefully accept it but insist they really didn’t have to

They insist it was there pleasure

They leave the two of you alone, they both are already consider you family

You eat while commenting on Emmett’s game play, nearly choking when he dies and throws the remotes across the room.

That day forward the awkwardness is basically gone

Bro Emmett

Protective Emmett

Playful Emmett

Emmett that throws you over his shoulder and run books it down the halls

Emmett that challenges you to fights despite the fact he towers over you and is all muscle

You can tell he let’s you win- although he does absolutely “pummel” you

He never actually hurts you- although you have hurt yourself a few time attempting to sneak attack him

He didn’t even flinch and you fell flat on your face

You still to this day have yet to live that down

You’re basically already dating without it being official

You go out constantly- you take a small chance and joke it’s almost like your dating

You keep your eyes straight forward expecting some “Ew gross no homo” response

When it comes you spare a single glance and see him with a big grin spread across his face

That was when it clicked your feelings might be mutual

He already knew how you felt due to bugging Jasper

but that was when he knew it was time to ask you out

“Hey, Y/N?”

“Ya?”

“Do you want to go out?”

“Like..... a date?”

“Yup.”

Remain calm- remain caLM

“Yes!”

You both quietly sit there for a moment absolutely loosing your minds

“Awesome.” He smiles wrapping an arm around you and pulling you closer

“Hey Emmett?”

“What’s up Y/N?”

“I didn’t know you were into men.”

“Neither did I until you came along.”

Once you two started dating it was like a damn burst and all he wanted to do was be near you.

The feeling was mutual

Movie and Arcade dates are some of your favorites

You’ve made out in school, at your house, in the forest, in movies, almost everywhere

Almost always has a hand somewhere on you- mainly your thigh

He also adores taking you hiking, If you get tired he just picks you up and keeps on going

He’s a lovable bro

and a lovable teddy bear

If your parents were homophobic Emmett is alright with pretending to just be one of ‘the boys’ until your ready

When you are ready, he’s on his absolute best behavior. He knows he won’t be able to suddenly make them no homophobic but god damn he’s not going to give them a reason to hate him

If they treat you badly at home because of it you suddenly are spending most of your nights at the Cullen residence

Even Rosalie starts to live you

Emmett has no quarrel with revealing there secret to you

You’re doing your homework in Emmett’s room when he suddenly emerges, giving you a pat on the back and straight up telling you.

“It’s about time you know. Y/N my family and I are vampires.”

“....?”

Convinced it’s some weird joke

“Halloweens not for months... and April first was months ago... I don’t get it.”

He just laughs, sitting on the small futon couch next to you and tells you he’s telling the truth

You just let out a nervous laugh when you realize he’s serious

“Emmett are you feeling okay?”

“Yes? Why- I’m not crazy Y/N. Here let me show you.”

Takes you by the hand and leads you outside, past his nervous looking family who you cast confused looks at

He takes you out back, lets go of your hand, and then jump nearly 30 feet in the air and lands on a tree

“what the fuck” you whisper, watching your apparently not human boyfriend look down and laugh at you.

When he jumps down and lands next to you, your almost the one jumping 30 feet in the air

“You all right.”

“UHM!” You motion to the tree and back to him a few times, pure shock clouding your mind

“HOW?! WHEN?! WHY?!” You nearly yell

“I was attacked by a bear and Rosalie saved me in 1935.”

“A BEAR?!?- wait your almost a hundred?”

Big smile and a nod is the only response you get

This goes on for almost 20 minutes before you sigh and mumble “well ok then?” and head back inside

The rest of the cullens got a front row seat to the whole thing and considering the circumstance you’re handling it well

You’re relationship ends up being pretty much the same except you force him to watch Dracula and interview with the vampire, along with other vampire movies a lot.

You buy a vampire romance novel for “Research”

With the big secret out Emmett finally feels ready to talk about going a bit further in your physical relationship

You wait until your parents are away on a trip so you’re away from certain immortal with heightened hearing

Edward and Jasper give him side eyes as he leaves the house

Your heart is beating almost a mile a minute when you hear a knock at the door

You invite him in and in a matter of minutes things are picking up speed

You have both been repressed for so long it’s no surprise

You fall asleep on his chest afterwards- of course after the two out you chatted a bit

He spends the night breathing in your scent, stroking your hair, caressing your cheek- such soft touches for someone so inhumanly strong

When you wake up and the memories all come flooding back and your cheeks burn hot and your heartbeat steadily increases, you shine and bury your head in his chest when he starts laughing at how easily flustered you are

Flustered or not you both agree it will become a more regular activity

Emmett is so damn proud when you graduate, if he could cry he probably would’ve

Carries you out on his shoulders chanting some ridiculous rhyme he made up

You guys party all night

Will deny it to Carlisle but he definitely got you a little tipsy

Months later some nomad vampires start wreaking havoc for the cullens

When they threaten you Emmett goes major protection mode

Only leaves your side to eat when absolutely necessary

He can tell it’s taking a toll on you and everything else

That’s when he suggest’s turning you for your protection

Besides Rosalie everyone agrees

Carlisle tries his best to make it a pain less process

although nothing could truly stop the mind numbing burning sensation that consumed you for days until it suddenly all went black

When you woke up, everything was heightened, you’re hearing, your smell, your taste, you’re sight, everything was so intense.

You went to stand but got thrown off by your force and speed

Two strong arms held you steady

“Emmett?”

“ehm, yes.”

“That sucked.”

Earned you a small chuckle from him

He insists on teaching you everything, hunting, fighting, acting, how to go crazy but not to crazy

He show’s you how intense everything is now

And by everything I mean everything

You two became a force to be reckoned with

Those Nomad’s stood no chance

No matter where you guys were you were a power couple

The Strongest and gayest power couple to ever walk the earth

And it was going to stay that way for a long time

#Emmett x reader #Emmett cullen x reader #Emmett Cullen imagine #Emmett cullen #Emmett #Emmett cullen x male reader #malereader #vampire #twilight #emmett x male reader

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arce-elliot · 4 years ago

Text

Magnus Archives - First Impressions (126-150)

Season 4 is a doozy, but we’re gonna make it through I swear. As usual, as an intro, I had about 75% of the show already spoiled for me and now I’m getting through it and recording my initial comments. Here we gooooo

EP 126 (Sculptor's Tool): - good lord lady leave Gabriel alone he's just trying to learn - ah yes Sannikov Land, my favorite amusement park, I hear their rollercoasters are killer - it's nice that Martin has a pet, even if it is just a tape recorder - hey Peter kick rocks EP 127 (Remains to be Seen): - Ah yes, another letter to Jimmy Magnet - "I want that tree obliterated" - alkjflaskdf this poor random man - Basira's trying that's something - EXCUSE YOU RAT MAN - basIRA TF U DOIN EP 128 (Heavy Goods): - JON LEVELLED UP NICE - and so ends the story of our little cockney couriers :C EP 129 (Submerged) - God can Martin and Jon please be friends again I'm suffering - as someone who lives in a hurricane area this is funny EP 130 (Meat): - wonder what entity this episode's about - AYYYY GERTRUDE - meat pit meat piet meat pit - lmao as much as I rag on Gertrude she's great EP 131 (Flesh): - Jon just casually chopping his fingers off, what an opening - "Melanie I'm trying to chop off my fingers get out of my room" - "I need the Boneturner" "Well guess what buddy it's your lucky day" - "is it gonna hurt" IT'S YOUR RIBS, YOU STUPID MAN, OF COURSE IT'S GONNA HURT EP 132 (Entombed): - COFFIN TIME MOTHERFUCKERS - "i think i'm stuck" just keep digging, just keep digging, just keep digging digging digging - guess y'all are just gonna be roommates now - thank GOD now someone get them some damn water EP 133 (Dead Horse): - father son camping we love to see it - okay but "Everchase" sounds badass - can everyone get along for FIVE MINUTES EP 134 (Time of Revelation): - O O F MARTIN'S INTRO HURT ME PHYSICALLY - oh hey Adelard what's good - New Fear Unlocked! - damn that's a lot of bodies - I'm super interested in this fear study we're getting into - Martin yelling at a full ass avatar is hilarious - OH WAIT MARTIN LEFT THE RECORDERS AWWWWW EP 135 (Dark Matter): - time to go back to spaaaaace - that's an old ass tree - YOOOO THEY JUST TRAPPED SOME RANDOM DUDE ON THIS R O C K E T??????? THAT'S FUCKED OH MY GOOOOOD - Elias is such a s h i t EP 136 (The Puppeteer): - why are we all babysitting daisy she's grown - LMAO JON QUIT COMPELLING EVERYONE - spiiiiider tiiiiiime - jon and daisy being buddies now is actually v nice EP 137 (Nemesis): - OH is this the statement that Gertrude had sent over? Did she record it and just never send it back? - MURDER SHIP MURDER SHIP - nice try Slaughter better luck nex- well just nice try I guess - I mean hey Gertrude was right I guess - they DID have to blow up the Unknowing from the inside - also awwww Gertrude's attached to the lil emo man - ERIC DELANO MENTION I know we're approaching that episode and I am not ready actually EP 138 (The Architecture of Fear): - FINALLY THIS MOTHERFUCKER - lmao what a sad old man, him and leitner would be friends - damn I sure hope Jonah doesn't become an avatar of the eye, that would surely suck EP 139 (Chosen): - AYYYY AGNES! - DIY messiah - I feel so bad for Agnes - Jon is so upset about Martin :C EP 140 (The Movement of the Heavens): - "some weird monster disease" - comet boy's a zombie now, nice - YES THE RIB SCENE - Basira and Jon are gonna kill Santa EP 141 (Doomed Voyage): - oh this is a good title seeing as we were JUST planning to go somewhere - LMAO POOR BASIRA - Jon: my tape recorder senses are tingling - OH SPIRAL? - GOOD POINT JONATHAN!!!! Like I love Basira but he's right, they all can't keep wanting him to use his powers and then also being mad at him for not being human - In the same vein they can't keep praising Gertrude and then getting mad when he acts like her EP 142 (Scrutiny): - "I need to speak to a manager" - Martin: I've decided I am the manager now - "he look like shit? ah that's Jonathan" - awww this poor lady - "no one talks to me anymore" Martin that's not fair you're literally avoiding everyone EP 143 (Heart of Darkness): - there's seeing and then there's Seeing - "eye's peeled" LMAO - ayyyy astrophysics lady - jonny boy please stop trying to look at entity shit it hurts ur eyeballs - AYYY HELEN HOW ARE YOU - helen's just like "did you have fun with your playdate? okay go get your sister and get in the car, I'm making pot roast for dinner" EP 144 (Decrypted): - AYYY NUMBER STATIONS - I diagnose you with doom - Martin stop being a shit EP 145 (Infectious Doubts): - GERTRUDE IS INCREDIBLE AHHH - Gertrude: Banishment ritual complete Mother of Puppets: What was that? Gertrude: Banishment ritual? Mother of Puppets: Say it again, slow, just the first word Gertrude: ...Banishment- Mother of Puppets, binding her to Agnes: Wrong EP 146 (Threshold): - Door Time Door Time - OH IT'S THIS KID - okay funny haha aside I'm trying to be forgiving here but everyone constantly ragging on Jon and making excuses for everyone else is gross EP 147 (Weaver): - I SAID TO LEAVE THIS DUMP ALONE - hehe nice Daisy - stop wanting Jon to use his power and then get mad when it drains him for the love of GOD make up your MINDS - Annabelle is terrifying bye EP 148 (Extended Surveillance): - okay Basira is on my nerves rn but this is pretty great get his ass - god I can't believe I'm saying this but I miss Elias, Ben Meredith is a treasure - god I know why people say to take this season slowly it drains you - AUTO-CANNIBALISM, AMAZING EP 149 (Concrete Jungle): - love Professor Mansplain - okay to be fair if I saw a little stone snake I would also pick it up - I'm starting to feel like Martin like "OKAY PETER I GET IT THE EXTINCTION IS REAL" - "maybe he just needs some help" THEN WHY DON'T YOU HELP HIM, MARTIN?? - lmao martin can go ghost now EP 150 (Cul-De-Sac): - "life is hard" me too Herman me too - the MOOSE - i miss when Jon and Melanie would actually get along sometimes rip

#magnus archives #tma

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the-awkward-outlaw · 5 years ago

Note

Hi!! Could you write about Arthur and reader getting caught in the act by, idk Abigail or Hosea?? It sounds so weird I know but my mind has gone curious during quarantine:)

This one turned out really hot, I almost forgot about them getting busted. I’m sure it’s super obvious. Happy reading, Anon!

(Chose this picture because he is sexy as hell!)

Warnings: smut, can... can y’all hear me? No? Okay, SMUT!

It’s just past noon and it’s already been a long day. You’ve been stuck in camp all day, courtesy of Susan Grimshaw. She went off on you last night for spending too many days outside of camp, hunting and scouting with Arthur. She claimed you weren’t helping enough in camp, so she said if you left for the next three days, she’d butcher you.

You didn’t take her seriously, of course, but you knew if you didn’t at least somewhat obey her, she could get very nasty. You sigh heavily as you rub your fingers raw on the washboard, scrubbing another dirty shirt. You don’t mind being stuck in camp, Horseshoe Overlook is a beautiful place. You also definitely don’t regret going out with Arthur so much lately.

The two of you have been having a secret relationship for weeks. He just isn’t ready to reveal it yet to the gang, as most of them still think he’s quietly in love with Mary. You were worried about that too until he got that letter from her just before your last outing and he took you with him to see her just so he could tell her to forget about him and leave him alone, that he wasn’t her errand boy.

Arthur’s a sweet man hidden beneath a rough exterior. You’ve never known anyone like him. He’s strong and fierce enough to protect you, but he’s also gentle and thoughtful. One of his first gifts to you was a drawing he’d done of your favorite flower, as he’d seen you picking them. You told him how much you loved the drawing and ever since he’s given you a dozen more.

You go out hunting with him a lot, and while you do a lot of hunting, you also use the time away from camp as an opportunity to be intimate with the outlaw. Not just sex either, though that frequently happens, but to just hold him and feel his arms wrap around you, for you both to be open and tell each other your thoughts. Despite the short amount of time you’ve been together, the two of you have already become extremely close. Of course, you were friends long before you were lovers, so it’s really not surprising.

The one thing you regret about the last hunting trip is that you didn’t make love to Arthur. Not that you wouldn’t if he asked, he just didn’t and you weren’t in the mood to initiate. Now though, something’s gotten to you and you can’t stop thinking about sex. You’re a bit uncomfortable, even now, as you feel like you just need a good round with Arthur to settle you down. He’s not in camp though, he left this morning to collect a debt from a woman named Lily Millet. You hate his debt collecting, maybe you’ll convince him to stop doing them. You know how much he hates it.

As the day continues, you only get more riled up and anxious. You can’t stop your mind from wandering to previous encounters with Arthur, especially that one day in Colter. You’d both been cold and stiff, and Arthur came up with the idea to use a small shed on the outskirts of the town to warm up. Despite the freezing temperatures, you two could have melted the snow in the whole town with what you did to each other. The memory of it doesn’t help you settle down now, it only seems to make it worse in fact.

You thought about taking a ride on your horse, but it wasn’t just the thought that Grimshaw might skin you that prevented you from doing so. If you go anywhere with that much bouncing, it’ll be agony, especially since there won’t be any penetration. You think about maybe going into your tent or by the river and taking care of yourself, but somehow you know it just won’t be enough. You need him.

Arthur returns not too long after you finish the laundry, which is surprising. That pile never seems to shrink. You watch him go and greet Hosea, praying he’ll make his way over to you. You’re sure he will, he always does. You wipe your sweating hands on your jeans, antsy for him. He’s talking to Hosea for too long. He needs to get his ass over to you.

Finally, you see him do his cute two-finger salute in farewell to Hosea and make his way over to you. You’re standing just behind his tented wagon, which is out of eyesight from the others. At least it’ll make good cover for you to try and convince him to help you out. As soon as he’s within feet of you, you leap on him, attacking his mouth with yours.

He chuckles against your lips and then pulls you away. “Hey, darlin’. What’s gotten into ya?”

“I need you, Arthur.”

“Need me for what?” You can’t tell if he’s playing coy or not and it’s infuriating.

“I need you,” you say. You’re not really sure how to say what you need so you make sure no one is able to see the two of you and then you get closer to him and squeeze the bulge of his pants. He quickly sucks in his breath, his hand tightening on your back.

“Oh,” he says, finally clicking in. He looks around. “Well, we can go to town, get a room-”

You shake your head and explain the problem with Grimshaw. He rubs his chin and looks around again. “Tent ain’t gonna work at this time of day.” His eyes wander over in the direction of the river. “Come on, I think I know a place.”

He leads you off into the trees. Once you’re not in sight of the others, he grabs your hand and walks faster. You’re shaking now, anticipating what’s about to happen. He takes you to the bottom of the hill, far enough away from camp that you won’t be heard and out of sight of the trail running by the river.

He finds a little nook in the vegetation, clear of rocks, and then he pins you against a tree.

“So you need me, huh?” he growls in your ear, his breath hot in your neck.

“Please, Arthur,” you say desperately.

He chuckles in your ear and starts kissing your neck. You tilt your head back, knowing you’re soaking your undergarments already. His hands slide down your back and to your front, undoing your belt and pants. He doesn’t even hesitate and rips your pants down, helping you step out of them. You can feel the goosebumps on your legs, and it’s unclear if they’re from the cool air or if it’s from him staring at your patch of hair as he kneels down. You wonder if he can see how wet you are.

He stands up and kisses you again, your hand going to his shoulder. His hands settle on your hips, but then one goes to his pants and he whips his length out. It’s only semi hard, so you start moving your hand towards him. He stops you by sliding a hand through your fold, making you gasp. God, you’ve needed that stimulation. Already, you feel a bit weak in the legs and he hasn’t even started yet.

“Damn, you’re wet. That for me?” he grunts in your ear.

You’re breathing hard. “Oh, Arthur. Please.”

He laughs softly in your ear and he slides a finger through your folds again. He’s teasing you; he knows that you need more pressure and more friction there.

“Arthur,” you whine. He smiles mischievously and then he starts pumping himself, his length growing harder. The vein running down his cock becomes more prominent as it grows stiffer. You start to drool a bit.

When he’s erect, he closes the distance between you, grabs your knee and wraps your leg around his waist. You groan as he does, and then he slides his firm cock into your opening, spreading your walls.

“God,” you groan. “Oh God.”

He kisses your neck and pushes himself as deep as he can. He sits inside you for a few seconds and then finally, gratefully, he pulls himself out a bit and then slams himself back in. He begins bucking, finally helping you to satisfy that craving. One of his arms is firmly wrapped around your back, pinning you to him so he can fuck you as hard as he can manage in this position, while the other hand moves from your knee to your rear, squeezing the cushioned flesh.

“Arthur,” you groan, “deeper.”

“Damn, girl,” he says. There’s only one way he can perform your request. He pulls out long enough that he can lay you down into the grass on your back. Then he spreads your legs, gazing at your pussy. His eyes go up to yours and he smiles. Without warning, he shoves himself back into you, making you moan.

As he thrusts, you lift your hips up to give him a better angle and he goes into you all the way to his girth. His head brushes your spot and then he decides to end you by sliding his hand into your folds, rubbing your swollen nub. It takes only seconds of him brushing it and you’re gone, your toes curling as you dig your fingernails into his back.

“Arthur!” you squeak, trying not to scream. He chuckles, still kissing your neck as he chases his own release.

As you pant beneath him, you don’t hear the telling signs of someone approaching until you hear them muttering.

“Damn fool of a man. Can hardly call himself a man! Worst mistake I ever made!”

You slap Arthur’s back, trying to get his attention to the approaching audience, but he doesn’t seem to hear them as he pushes himself in and out of you.

“Arthur!” you say with gritted teeth.

The voice is getting louder and still Arthur isn’t stopping. His hand even goes up your shirt and squeezes your breast.

“Arthur, someone’s coming!” you whine.

“What?” he says, pausing just long enough and you can hear footsteps.

Before he can pull out and the two of you can arrange yourselves into innocent positions, Abigail comes into view. Your stomach drops, but she isn’t faced in your direction. You and Arthur are in full view to her and there’s nothing you can use to cover your joined hips. You just have to hope that she heads off and doesn’t hear you.

Her back’s to you and she glares off into the distance. You and Arthur watch her with baited breath. Arthur starts reaching over to a bush to try and grab a thick branch to try and cover yourselves. He’s going to make too much noise, you know it. Before you can hiss in his ear to not do it, he grabs it and inevitably, the leaves shake and hiss.

Abigail, attracted to the noise, turns and her eyes land right on you two. “Oh God!” she screeches, turning away and clapping her hands over her eyes. Arthur quickly pulls himself off you and covers your legs as much as he can with your jeans, stuffing himself back into his pants.

“Abigail!” you gasp. “I’m so sorry! We didn’t think we’d get caught out here!”

You see her shake her head, her hand still over her eyes. “Sorry I came this way. John and I… I needed to get away from him.” She starts going back up towards camp, her face red.

“Shit,” you say. You didn’t even have the chance to ask her not to tell anyone. Arthur puts his hand back on your hips.

“You mind if we finish?” he asks after a minute. You know it’s foolish to do what he wants, but he deserves his release. You look up at him, slide your pants off your bare legs and then shove him. He falls onto his back and you grab his pants, ripping them down. His cock immediately points up as he smiles at you. You slide your hips over his, sliding him into you and sinking onto him.

As he begins bucking again, you reach down to him and rip his shirt open. You stroke his chest, it’s firm and hairy in just the right places. You run your fingers over his left nipple and his hands squeeze your hips. He’s getting close, but he’s staring at you hard, almost as though disappointed.

“What?” you ask, panting from his actions.

“We seem a little uneven, don’t we?” he says, gesturing to your shirt.

“Arthur, we’ve already been caught! We need to hurry this up and do some damage control.”

“All the more reason. I’ll go faster.”

You smile, kind of turned on by the idea that someone might see. You’ve never been into having an audience, but when it comes to having sex with Arthur, you don’t care the circumstance. You unbutton your shirt and then lift up your chemise, exposing your bouncing breasts. You take them both off, not caring that you’re completely naked now. His hands reach up and stroke your nipples. He starts thrusting harder and faster in response. He’s going so hard that you can feel yourself building up for a second release.

Suddenly he thrusts himself hard up into you, his cock shooting his seed into you. He pushes himself into you once, twice more and then pulls his softening length out.

“Arthur, I’m… I’m not done,” you groan.

“Thought you wanted to do damage control?” he teases.

“Just quickly, please. I can’t wait.”

He sits up a bit, keeping you on his lap. One arm tightens around your back while the other hand slides up into your folds. He starts rubbing your clit and his lips go to your nipple, sucking on it. You start grinding against his hand and he shoves two fingers into your clit. His thumb stays on your clit, pushing it and rubbing it raw. His tongue massages your nipple, his teeth grazing the firm nub.

“Arthur!” you hiss, your hands winding into his hair and pulling it a bit. His hand in your slit starts moving faster in response, building you up. A bubble of heat starts in the bottom of your ribs and then slides down to your hips. He rubs your clit again and then the bubble moves down to your opening and bursts. You push your hips against his hand and you tilt your head back, scratching his shoulders.

You’re panting hard when you finally come back down. Arthur slips your nipple from his lips and kisses you on the lips.

“That enough for now, girl?” he asks.

You nod. “For now. But I’m sure I’ll need this again tonight.”

He grins and kisses you again. “We can do that.”

You both get up and get yourself dressed. You dry yourself off with some harmless leaves. You and Arthur walk back up to camp, releasing your entwined hands when you get into view. You have to find Abigail.

It doesn’t take long to find her. She’s sitting near John’s tent, Jack playing nearby.

“Abigail, can we talk about… what you saw?” you ask, your face turning red. She grins up at you.

“I thought you and Arthur were together. Just didn’t think you were that far along.”

You sit down on the crate next to hers, making sure no one can overhear you. “Yeah, I just… needed some help. You know how it is.”

She just grins.

“You won’t tell anyone, will you?” you ask, holding your breath.

“Course not. But when camp ends up with another Jack, it’s going to become horribly obvious.” She winks at you.

#arthur morgan #arthur morgan x female reader #arthur morgan x reader smut #red dead fanfic #awkward asks

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bigdaddib · 5 years ago

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promise pt.1

I really can’t believe how well my last gendrya was received. Honestly, I’m not totally sure how tumblr really works even after having it a couple of years, but I have this other story I’ve started based on this text post I found, I’m sorry to say I didn’t save it because I never thought I would actually be posting stories on here so I didn’t think I would need it, but it was basically a prompt about how Arya and Gendry making a pact to lose their virginities together. I started writing this with the intention for it to be very short and very sweet, but it has turned into something much longer and more involved than I thought it would, so I thought I’d be posting different parts one of at a time and see how it goes. Sorry if this whole preface ruined it, but I also just wanted to thank everyone for all the kind words and reblogs, the positive feedback was so overwhelming and unexpected, and I’m not sure if it was even that big of a deal in the world of tumblr but it was a pretty big deal for me. So, thank you so much, and here’s a part one that I may be continuing if things continue to go as well. Okay, I’m done talking, sorry lol

Arya and Gendry had grown up making each other promises.

The first was made when Arya was seven, Gendry nine, and he had began getting closer with all of her brothers. Before this Gendry had always been hers. Gendry got nervous around the other boys, he felt inferior to them since they had always been together and had always been in the same family. Gendry had only moved in with his father three years before then, and still felt like an outsider, no matter how hard Robert tried to make him apart of everyone’s family.

Arya didn’t make him uncomfortable though. It was probably because she was younger and she was a girl and in some ways didn’t fit in quite the same either. It wasn’t any where near Gendry’s level of isolation, even if it was self inflicted partially, but she didn’t like the things her sister liked so they never got on very well, and while her brother’s never minded Arya joining in on their games, their mother did. Cat had always been more on the old fashioned side and letting her youngest daughter play outside and climb up trees and roofs or join her older brother’s boxing lessons was too stressful for her to handle. So, Arya was always caught in a middle place, and that was where she met Gendry. On equal footing.

Jon joined them often but he was also very close with Rob, so Arya wasn’t threatened at first. It wasn’t until Rob began noticing Gendry was just as capable at throwing a ball about and punching stupid boxing bags when Arya started worrying. Once Gendry was accepted with the boys what would he need Arya for? Once he was involved in the family fully, there would be nothing tying them together and Arya would be left alone.

She knew she had to act quick before too much damage was done.

Sitting him down Arya fixed him with the most serious of looks she could make as she stuck her pinky out. “You have to promise that you’ll always like me better than them,” She told him in the most mother like voice she’s ever made.

Gendry raised an eyebrow at her, “Better than who?”

“You know damn well who I’m talking about stupid. But I always have to be your favorite, promise me,”

Gendry rolled his eyes but hooked his pinky with hers all the same.

The next real promise was made when Arya was ten. There had been lots of tiny promises here and there on both their ends. Arya promised not to tell his brother where he kept his secret stuff and Gendry promised not to let Arya win anything, he always had to try and beat her fair and square.

Arya had been listening in on her parent’s conversations for years. It was through listening to their concerns and secret opinions she managed to get anything she really wanted. Like finally getting a turn in boxing lessons and archery, it was how she managed to wiggle her way out of etiquette classes. She had also come across ballet through this method, as a sort of compromise between her and her mother. Arya had went in determined not to enjoy herself, and then found herself thinking about applying to different dance academies her senior year.

She was sat high on the staircase, snacking on a cookie mother was supposed to be saving for Sansa’s class the next after noon, expecting them to complain about Rob’s new girlfriend, once again. But that wasn’t the relationship they were worrying about.

“It won’t be long until he starts to look at her. Maybe even the other way around, he’s already taller than any twelve-year-old boy I’d ever seen,”

“He’ll probably stop soon, at least. I’d think he would…”

“Ned, he’ll be noticing girls any moment now. Sansa has already started asking questions about Joffrey,” she was interrupted by Ned’s scoff. “Well, which one would you rather have pursuing her? Joffrey or Gendry?”

“Tommen would probably be best,” Ned answered and Cat giggled in response.

Arya set her cookie aside, suddenly feeling uneasy. Gendry noticing girls? What for? Sansa talking about boys? What was there to talk about? Her and Gendry never had much to do with one another before. They were polite enough and walked home from school together sometimes, but Gendry was Arya’s friend. It was one thing being friends with the boys, but he couldn’t have both of the girls, things would get too messy. Sansa accused Arya of messing with her stuff enough as it was, if Sansa suddenly started talking about Gendry…

Arya sat with this for almost a week. Considering the conversation over and over, and she never liked the conclusion she came to.

Obviously, her parents were referring to a fancy type of noticing and talking, a romantic type. Arya understood those things well enough, one time she had walked in on Rob’s hand up Talisa’s shirt. So, if Gendry and Sansa started on that road, Gendry would be sticking his hand up her sister’s shirt. She didn’t like that, she liked it even less then when Robb did it.

She mostly didn’t like what it meant for her and Gendry. With Gendry’s hand up Sansa’s shirt, surely Sansa would become his favorite. Arya wouldn’t stand a chance. And what with Gendry’s hand up Sansa’s shirt and his close friendship with Jon, again, he would have no need for Arya anymore. Arya was awfully frustrated with this, because she thought she had already taken care of that problem last year.

The way her parents talked about it made it sound like she had some time before she had to act on it though, but it was clear she was running out. She needed to know how much time there was exactly, but she couldn’t go to Gendry about it, she wasn’t stupid. So, instead she went to Jon, who was the same age as Gendry and who she knew she could say anything to.

“Jon?” he had taken to staying locked up in his room for the entire day and night and got mad when people came in without knocking. Arya forgot to knock very often, but today she made sure to. She wanted him to be in a good mood.

Jon stuffed his phone under his pillow, “What is it Arya?”

“Can I ask you something?” she asked innocently.

Jon sat up on his elbows and gave her a suspicious look. “When have you ever asked my permission before asking me something?”

Arya decided to ignore that question, “It’s just that…” she closed the door behind her and sat at the foot of his bed, “Its only…have you started noticing girls? And if not do you think you’ll start up soon? And if soon than how soon? Weeks or months? Days?”

Jon stared, wide eyed. Arya only stared back, determined for an answer. Eventually he sighed and plopped back down onto his back. “What has brought this on Arya?” he asked miserably.

Arya shrugged even though he wasn’t looking at her. “Nothing I was just wondering…”

“Are you going to let me not answer you and keep some dignity?” he asked.

“Not without a fight,” Arya answered, which really meant no, she wasn’t. And Jon knew that.

He sighed heavily again before emotionlessly saying, “Yes, I’ve noticed a thing or two about girls. Can you leave me alone now?”

Arya chewed her lip. That wasn’t good, that didn’t leave her much time at all. “Have you noticed everything about a girl or would you say you have a ways to go?”

“I’m not sure how much more there is to notice that I haven’t already gotten to,”

Arya heard in his voice that he had reached the limit of how much he was willing to share and any more information had to be drawn out through out the week, or even a month, and she didn’t have the time. At this rate, Gendry would be noticing and Sansa would be talking and Arya would never hear from him again. She didn’t bother to thank Jon as she ran out the door and bicycled her way to Gendry’s house. She climbed up to his window and knocked so she wouldn’t have to deal with Joffrey or Cersei.

Gendry’s loud, angry music blasted through Arya’s ears as he opened the window for her.

“I was about to come over,” Gendry told her casually, snacking on an apple.

“Promise me you won’t notice Sansa,” Arya got out before she lost courage.

Gendry blinked at her, “What?”

“Promise me you won’t notice Sansa and put your hand up her shirt,” she clarified, her pinky out and ready.

Gendry almost dropped his apple, “Put my hand where?”

“I know you’ve already started noticing girls, and I know Sansa’s the prettiest one, but you can’t notice her, okay? Promise me,” she thrusted her pinky in his face.

Gendry’s face was now just as red as the apple he was eating. “I-I…honestly Arya what makes you think—”

“Are you going to promise or not?!” Arya didn’t like that he didn’t agree to this immediately. Maybe she had been too late, maybe he’d already noticed all there was to notice like Jon had.

Gendry was stiff a moment, looking to her pinky then to Arya and she was sure in that moment that he had noticed Sansa at least a little bit. But in the next moment she saw him let it go and hook his pinky with hers. Gendry had picked Arya and it almost made Arya cry. Arya cheered, wrapping her arms tight around his neck. “Thank you,” she said.

“Yeah okay,” Gendry grumbled, patting her back.

It wasn’t long after that, a few months really, the next big promise was made. It came the day after Arya had her first lesson on the birds and the bee’s. She wasn’t meant to receive this lesson, but she often snuck herself into the bigger kids’ classes so she could go back to her own and pretend she already knew everything they were talking about. She had come home that day with lots of questions regarding the video they had watched.

Her mother couldn’t stop her voice from getting too high and her father kept stuttering so she turned to her oldest brother Rob. She would’ve gone to Jon, but she already made him uncomfortable with the ‘noticing girls’ thing and, if she was being completely honest, she doubted he knew much more about it than she did.

“Rob,” she said while he was doing his homework. “Can you tell me about sex but be honest about it?”

Rob threw his head back and let out the longest, most miserable, tortured groan Arya had ever heard. When he was done he just sat like that, his head back, staring at the ceiling. Arya got the idea he thought if he didn’t move long enough she’d forget about it and walk away. But she didn’t. She could wait him out, she didn’t have any homework to do anyway.

Eventually she won and Rob told her to sit down.

“Listen, I’m gonna cut to the chase about it, but I’m not going to give you details. I’m gonna tell you the basics and nothing more, and there’s nothing you can say or do that’ll make me give you more, you got that?” he got that serious determined look Arya often copied so she nodded. Secretly she figured she’d give it a day or two before trying him again if she had any more questions, which she probably would. “Okay, so…” Rob suddenly didn’t seem too confident as he looked at Arya’s eager, curious face. He groaned again, rubbing his forehead before he pointed his finger at her ambitiously, “So,” he started again, voice stronger, “there’s a girl and there’s a guy, usually—”

“Usually?”

“Hey! What did I say?” Robb raised an eyebrow and Arya rolled her lips together. Robb made sure she was gonna stay quiet before starting again, “There’s a girl and a guy, a much older girl and guy, like ten to twenty years older, and only if they love and trust each other very much, and they come to the mutual decision to have sex. That means, both of you, especially you Arya, will agree to have to sex. You have to be very, very, very, very sure you 1.) want to have sex, and 2.) want to have sex with that person, I can’t stress that enough. Do you understand that?” he looked at her and Arya nodded. “And once you two have talked about it, thought it over, and have come to the decision you want to have sex you…” Rob’s voice got wobbly again and he had to clear his throat, “Well you…uh…okay, so uh…” he closed his eyes and tilted his head to the side. Arya rolled her eyes. “gods, I can’t do this,” Rob shook his head and turned back to his homework.

“Hey!” Arya grabbed his sleeve, “You can’t do that!”

“I said I’d give you the basic information, and that’s as basic as it gets. Sex is with someone you love and trust, and that’s all you need to know,” he said in the voice that meant he wasn’t going to talk no matter what Arya did. At least, not today, she could try again tomorrow if she wanted, but it honestly seemed like a lot of work if that’s all the information she was going to be getting per conversation. She knocked his text book off the table before stomping away,

Just like she did before her last promise, Arya sat with the information she had for a while. Sex, whatever it was, should only happen with someone she loved and trusted and should happen in ten to twenty years which, at ten, was almost the same thing as it was never going to happen.

All those things together made it almost obvious on what was to be done next.

The next time Gendry was over, right before they started playing video games, Arya stuck her pinky out.

“What the hell Arya, what is it now?” he asked her, frustrated. Arya was suspicious he was still a little bitter about her making him promise not to notice Sansa.

“Promise me that the first time we have sex, it’ll be together,” Arya said unashamedly. There’s no one else in the world Arya trusted or loved more than Gendry, other than her family and while Arya didn’t know much about it, she knew sex wasn’t meant for family.

Gendry’s jaw dropped the widest Arya had ever seen it. “Arya!”

“What?” she frowned. “I love you and trust you, that’s what you need to have sex with someone.”

“Well yeah, but—”

“You don’t love me?” Arya asked, suddenly feeling very sad, “You don’t trust me?”

“It’s not that! You’re ten years old, I’m older than you—”

“Not now, obviously, sex doesn’t happen for another ten to twenty years, I’m not stupid!”

“Arya, you don’t get it—”

“Sex is for people who love and trust each other,” Arya felt like she was close to tears. She didn’t think this promise would be a big deal at all, she thought it made the most sense in the world. “Why are we even friends if you don’t love or trust me?”

Gendry ran a very stressed hand through his hair, “Arya that’s not all there is to it—”

“Well, what else is there?” she was quick to ask. When Gendry struggled to answer she took that as a sign he was lying and didn’t actually love and trust her. Maybe he wanted to have sex with Sansa first, and was mad at Arya for stopping that. “Fine, if you want to notice Sansa so bad go ahead and notice her. I never cared anyway. You can play video games with her for all I care,” Arya left so she could beat Sansa’s old stuffed animals with a stick.

She barely talked to him for a week. He tried, he knocked at her window, he walked her to school, he waited outside of her class, but if he didn’t immediately promise her what she wanted she ignored him.

“You’re a kid, Arya! I’m not trying to be a creep,” he said from outside her window. Arya turned her music up. “Oh come on, how long are you going to pout?”

Arya didn’t answer, he knew exactly how long she was going to pout.

“Fuck you Arya!” he hit at her window before leaving.

He stopped trying to make up for two days. Instead he hung out with her brothers in a very obvious and obnoxious kind of way, but it didn’t bother Arya. She knew Gendry and she knew he could never hold out as long as she could. No one could.

Eventually, while she was eating her cereal, Gendry angrily took a seat next to her.

She took a bite, looked at him.

He set his jaw, looked at her.

Then he stuck out his pinky.

#Gendry Waters #gendrya #gendryaau #Arya Stark #arya x gendry #gendrya ff #gendryafluff #gendryaseries #pt1 #gendrya fanfiction #friends to lovers

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kiribaku-fics-whatever · 5 years ago

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Slow burn

So guys, there were just too much Slow burns to share, so I'm doing more than one list, still don't know how many... Also, I lot of them are like classics, and my favorites!Hope yall enjoy!

Kokoronashi by chiisanaai

It started the way you fall asleep: slowly, then all at once. There wasn’t a single moment of realization for Katsuki Bakugou, no specific point on his mind’s map that he could point to and say, “There! That’s when it happened.” As with all people, he was constantly developing, feelings coming and going, some fading into obscurity, others growing into a deafening crescendo that took over his thoughts, kept him up at night, spread a particularly spectacular brand of ache through him. Slowly, then all at once.

No Secrets to Sucess by kingdoms

“Hey!” Kirishima says brightly, stepping sideways to be directly in the guy’s path. “I know you!”

“Fuck off,” the guy snarls, pushing past him and barely slowing down.

Kirishima is forced to start his first semester at UA two months late. Somehow he still meets Bakugou Katsuki, makes the most of those two months, and gains a tutor, a best friend, and an exciting way to scandalize his new peers.

Canon AU where Kirishima and Bakugou become friends before Kirishima meets the rest of Class 1-A.

Moment of Truth by Fanficismything

Faced with deportation from Japan, high strung Bakugo Katsuki accepts a marriage of convenience with his partner and co-worker, Kirishima Eijirou. A suspicious immigration officer has him playing along on a trip to Kirishima's family home for his birthday, and is suddenly thrust into the middle of many, many eager friends and relatives, all delighted to know Kirishima's fiance. The longer he stays and sees Kirishima in his element, the more Bakugo unpacks his own feelings on the matter, and on Kirishima himself.

A fanfiction based on the 2009 movie The Proposal that turned into its own storyline and lovingly stuffed full of cliches.

so take my hand(your life will be brighter) by multiclassmaps

When a stranger shows up at the ice rink during Bakugou's usually private training sessions, Bakugou expects to hate him. He doesn't expect to develop feelings that become increasingly difficult to deny, or for them to help each other sort through their emotional baggage.

Bakugou really didn't like Kirishima's smile. There was something about it that made his stomach hurt, something about it that made it difficult to focus. He definitely hadn't thought about that smile on his way to the ice rink that day. He definitely hadn't.

quote love unquote by newamsterdam

Sero nods. “It’s the chance of a lifetime, really,” he says. “We want you to date Bakugou, for the sake of his reputation with the press. Some public appearances, a few ‘candid’ photos. For at least a couple of months.”

“Bakugou sent you to ask me to date him?” Kirishima asks, baffled.

“Of course not. We, his people, are asking you to date him. He’s going to have to get on board, if he wants his career to survive. And in the bargain, Riot will get all sorts of publicity, because their lyricist will be dating one of the industry’s hottest stars. A win for everyone.”

When Kirishima Eijirou's band hits the big time, he's not prepared for his newfound fame. He's even less prepared to meet the actor he's been crushing on for years, or to start dating him as a publicity stunt. The closer Kirishima gets to Bakugou Katsuki, the more he realizes he's in over his head. But it's hard to stop, once his heart is in it.

the fool's rush by chonideno

Settling down with each other is naturally what comes after being dorm neighbors for years. It’s time to navigate through adulthood together, to live the daily grind of being pro-heroes, to learn more than they thought they’d like to know about each other, about themselves.

Or how Bakugou and Kirishima find a way to call each other “home” and struggle with the realization that once all their bills are on auto-pay, the only thing they still have to deal with is this pit full of feelings they have ignored for too long.

When You Let Your Heart Win by tea_at_yazes

Bakugou Katsuki finally achieves his dream of becoming Number One Hero, but he still feels like something is missing.

A Meme A Day by PorcelainRose

Boarding school is bullshit. School is bullshit, and Bakugou Katsuki wants nothing to do with it. He doesn't give a shit about grades or homework or any of that crap, and he's more than tired of the damn principal breathing down his neck every second of the day. And to add a cherry on top of the shit sundae that is high school, he suddenly gets reassigned rooms and ends up with a way-too-fucking enthusiastic Hair-for-Brains idiot who's probably got the biggest, dumbest smile he's ever seen. Of-fucking-course.

Kirishima's always been happy to meet people and make new friends. Needless to say, he's ecstatic when he's informed that he's finally getting assigned a roommate after a month of living alone in a dorm room. He's more than happy to welcome his new roommate with a smile and help him out with anything he needs. He isn't expecting, however, to meet a seriously attractive blonde with intense irises that shine with his favorite color, and who he also has trouble keeping his own eyes off of.

If I Don't Act... by SilentNorth

The problem with this city is that it's no one's destination, yet they're all stuck here one way or another. It chews you up and spits you back out again. They all have their scars, plenty of problems to cover up and whether or not that's what's keeping them in this city remains to be seen. Eijirou's problem is that he has a hero complex not even his closest friends can talk him out of. It's not his fault. The police are never there and he doesn't want to leave anyone feeling helpless. He's been there. But if they all just keep smiling and pretending everything is okay, then it will be. Eijirou will make sure of that.

Bakugou Katsuki throws a wrench into everything. He can save himself, thank you very much.

Seven Years of Summer by dr_awkward221

"Katsuki was leaning his head against the car window, cheek pressed against the plastic body of the door, feeling the vibrations reverberate in his skull. He didn't want to be there. He didn't want to be stuck in the car for hours and hours only to arrive in a half deserted village in the middle of nowhere where probably only old people lived.

[...] He didn't care about nature, he didn't care about rivers, mountain animals or stupid old trees.

He wanted to stay at home, where every normal ten year old kid was spending the summer."

Or how Bakugo Katsuki, a lonesome and surly city boy, spends seven summer breaks in the mountains he will grow to hold close to his heart. And where, waiting for him, he always finds Eijirou, with his messy dark hair, carefree smile, sun-burned skin and wide eyes full of wonder. His opposite in almost every visible way, but who maybe understands him more than Katsuki could ever imagine.

Almost Midnight by justyourtypicalfangirl

A look at the odd friendship of Bakugou Katsuki and Kirishima Eijirou over the course of ten years.

One that only ever exists on New Year's Eve each year.

(inspired by 'Almost Midnight' by Rainbow Rowell)

to bear fruit(from clay, in direct sunlight) by taegg

Bakugou dreams and wakes with a fading afterimage of a peach rind sunset and a red dragon painted on a longboard. And a vague, stray thought that maybe he shouldn't give up when he hasn't really tried, that maybe the boy who rides a dragon could really be his.

Bakugou meets a boy with the wind in his hair and feet that don’t touch the ground. Two years pass, during which he learns to carve smooth lines on a longboard, and that he's allowed to love.

#kiribaku #bakushima #the writer rocked #writers #kiribaku fic rec #bnha #those are classics #I could sob with how much I love them #slow burn #list

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olivenight17 · 6 years ago

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Welcome one and welcome all to head canons for my favorite tree man from Naruto who got relentlessly screwed in his ending. I don’t approve of it, he deserved to be happy and have his family instead of being stuck with his abuser while everyone moved on with their lives. No one has requested it except my own brain, and my brain won’t let me let this go so let me share how he would be happy, but in an x reader fashion because I mean, this is an x reader blog.

Also, this’ll be changed from that stupid ending because I refuse to accept it. Welcome to the delusional part of my mind where everything is fine.

Basically what I’m saying: YAMATO DESERVED TO BE HAPPY AND HE WILL BE BY MY HAND. SO DECREES OLIVE.

This is basically just word vomit but take it, tAKE IT-

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Yamato x Reader hcs

- First and foremost: When everything’s settled down and Kakashi becomes hokage and what not, Yamato essentially becomes Kakashi’s Shizune.

- Trying to keep Kakashi in line, helping out with the paperwork, trying to keep from crying because “Senpai please you cannot be reading those books, you have work to do-”

- But it’s... nice. Sure, it’s a new set of frustrations, but they’re not terrible, and Yamato can honestly say he’s happy. He still gets to see his team on a regular basis, as well as everybody else, he gets to stay close to Kakashi and he’s not being alienated anymore. He can feel like he actually belongs in the village.

- That’s when he meets you, a dear and darling little civilian who recently took ownership over a plant shop after the owners had passed away.

- It was a shop he’d been frequenting for a few years now, seeing that he’s no longer going on missions, he has time on his hands, and he spends that time tending a garden.

- He walks into that shop, expecting to see the smiling face of the old woman, and imagine his surprise when it’s in fact someone his own age, and looking very adorable.

- “Ah, welcome to Buds and Blooms. My names (Y/N), I’ll be taking care of the shop from here on out. Is there anything I can help you with?”

- And our boi freezes for a second before waving awkwardly. “No, I’m all good. Thank you, though.” And off he goes wandering in the store, trying not to scream at himself for being so awkward.

- He gets what he came for, pays and walks out in an attempt to not embarrass himself anymore than he already has.

- But he’s a regular at that shop, so he comes back often, and the two of you talk while you’re registering his things.

- At first it’s just about plants, how Yamato’s garden is coming along, the plants you’re growing yourself. But the more you two meet, you begin talking about other things, he’ll gossip to you about Kakashi, you’ll tell jokes that literally have him snorting in laughter (he’s such a dork someone love him pLEasE-)

- And for the first time ever, there’s a light feeling in his chest, and it stays. It doesn’t fade when he goes to his house, and he’s alone in the dark, and the worst parts of his mind come out to get him. He can stave them off because he can look forward to seeing you.

- Yamato gets a lot more tolerant of Kakashi, which he obviously picks up on, and it’s not long before he figures out his little kohai has a crush. And who would Kakashi be if he didn’t meddle with his loved one’s lives?

- So that’s what he does, suddenly being a responsible hokage, taking on more work for himself, and telling Yamato to take more breaks, which he uses to go see you.

- The happier he notices Yamato is becoming, the more he knows it’s working. Until like a month or so later, he invites Yamato out for drinks and just goes “So, when are you going to ask out the lucky person you’ve been so smitten with?”

- “I-I’m sorry? I don’t know what you’re-”

- “Don’t try to lie to me, Tenzo. It’s obvious, and it’s been obvious for a while, why not just go for it?”

- And he’s silent for a moment, because Kakashi’s right. He should at least try, but then he realizes as happy as he’s become, he’s still broken inside. Years of abuse and war do not get fixed overnight and he figures you deserve someone who won’t wake up in the middle of the night screaming about the horrors of his past or the doubts he still gets that the only love he deserves is conditional.

- Kakashi frowns because he knows the face Yamato’s sporting and he won’t let his friend do that to himself and he interrupts the thought process. “Hey, eyes on me, Tenzo.” Once he has his attention, he continues. “I don’t want you selling yourself short. You’re a good, kind man and I’m sure the one you’re admiring knows it. I can’t order you to do this, but you should consider it. You’ve gone through years of putting yourself last, maybe it’s time you changed that.”

- Yamato remains silent, but he considers the words when he goes home that night. In the morning, he decides to do it.

- So, before he can talk himself out of it, he goes to your shop just as you’re opening it up and asks if you’ll go to the festival happening next week with him.

- You pause and he assumes you’re getting ready to reject him when a smile comes on your face. “Yamato, are you asking me out on a date?” And your grin widens when he nods with this flushed face. “I would love to!”

- and he perks up immediately because he really didn’t think you’d say yes, and he fumbles a little as you set up the details and as he’s walking away, he feels like he’s floating on cloud nine.

- the festival happens, everything goes great and it’s the start of a beautiful relationship.

- You’re going strong, you both enjoy each other’s company, and Yamato has completely fallen head over heels for you. He’ll literally do anything for you, just name it and it’s done.

- Not to say there aren’t rough parts, our boi has suffered a lot, both external and internal problems. He feels guilty because he doesn’t feel like he’s enough and he’s struggling to find his worth with you. But you’re always there to soothe his worries and offer advice when you can.

- The first time he realizes that this is real, this is unconditional love and support and you really won’t leave him if he has nothing to offer at that time, he cries. Full on, he sobs in your arms as you hold him tightly because this is what he’s wanted for the longest time, and he wasn’t sure if he was ever going to get it. He mutters “I love you” over and over again because you have honestly freed him.

- He wants to get married to you. Absolutely, once you’re both getting serious, he wants to marry you and have that commitment and he won’t even stutter through it. I mean, he’ll nervously smile as he goes down on his knee because he’s hoping you’ll say yes, but there’s not a hint of hesitation in his eyes when he asks you.

- “(Y/N), I have loved you for the longest time with my heart and soul. You’ve given me a home, a place to belong, and most of all, love. You are everything I have ever wanted in my life. Quite frankly I’m not sure if I deserve you, but I’ll be damned if I don’t spend the rest of my life trying to be the man you deserve anyways. That is, if you’ll have me.”

- SOMEONE BREAK OUT THE WEDDING BELLS

- It’s a relatively small wedding, really the only ones attending on his side are team seven, and I swear to you, you’ll never see a man look more in love in your life than when he sees you walking down the aisle. To him you look like a literal angel.

- Not a dry eye in the house, especially on Kakashi’s part because he’s so very, genuinely happy that his friend has found love like this and honestly, Yamato’s tearing up too because it feels like this is all some dream and he’ll wake up to reality.

- But it never comes.

- Eventually you’re all settled in, Kakashi relieved Yamato of his assistant duties and he helps you with your shop, seeing as he has a green thumb himself

- If you ever want kids, be prepared to at least adopt one. Not that Yamato wouldn’t want one you both created, but seeing as he’s been an orphan, he wants to save a least one from the same pain he went through.

- Though honestly, you already kinda have a kid in the form of Sai because Yamato is always looking out for that boy no matter what. They came from similar backgrounds after all, he wants to make sure he’s okay and adjusting to civilian life too.

- And he just… wants to grow old with you and share tender smiles and slow dance in the shop after it’s closed for the day.

- He loves you, and someone would have to be blind, deaf and dumb to not see that.

#Naruto #Yamato #Naruto Yamato #Yamato x reader #Yamato hcs #naruto yamato hcs #yamato x reader hcs #I just... word vomitted everywhere on this #I would say I'm sorry #but this boi deserves all of my life #did I go overboard?#Probably #This is probably the longest head canons thing I've ever done #but do I regret it?#Not a goddamn chance #I love this man #please love him as much as I do

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immortalbarnes · 5 years ago

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A Cabin For Two | Chapter 2: Space Oddity

Bucky Barnes x Reader

summary: Sam visits for training, then Bucky retells a mission you went on under Hydra

warnings: some swearing and mentions of torture and violence

A/N: sorry this took so long! I had some writers block :/ also I'd love to hear what y’all think so far!

bold italicized dialogue indicates flashback

Chapter 1

You woke up alone this morning. Rolling to your side, you’re greeted with cold sheets instead of the warm embrace of your partner. Sighing, you sleepily slip into some running shorts and a t-shirt and make your way to the kitchen, greeted to the smell of coffee and an omelette made just for you… but no Bucky. You prepare your coffee, thinking that he probably went for a run or something.

Suddenly, you hear a crashing sound coming from behind the house. Drawing up the blinds to the kitchen window, you find Bucky, alongside Sam and the infamous red, white, and blue shield stuck in the side of a tree.

“Sam! You gotta AIM!” Bucky scolds, but you can tell he’s trying not to laugh.

“Don’t make fun of me! This shit is tough.” Sam huffs as he tries to pull it out of the dense bark. Bucky walks over and gets it out with one tug, “Oh fuck off!” Sam yells.

Laughing you watch them toss the weapon back and forth like a frisbee, laughing like they are children. You pull out your phone and call Steve.

“Ground Control to Major Tom.” You say when he picks up.

“You’ve been listening to the Bowie record I gave you!” Steve merrily replies.

“Sure have. Anyways, I just wanted to call and see how you’re doing. I’m currently watching Sam and Bucky toss your shield around like a frisbee.”

“Sam’s shield,” He corrects, “I gave it to him. I’m glad to hear he’s working with it.”

“He’s getting better, but doesn’t have the toss down yet.”

“Tell him it’s all in the wrist. Maybe go show him how it’s done.”

“Will do.”

“Bye, Y/N.”

“Bye, Steve.”

Taking your steaming mug, you open the back door and greet the two men outside.

“Mornin’ boys!”

“Y/N!” Sam stops right before he’s about to throw the shield once again, “My favorite soldier!”

“Hey!” Bucky interjects.

“Shut up, show off,” Sam pouts, “she doesn’t throw the shield like a damn boomerang around me to flex.”

“Oh… like this?” You take the disc from his hand, and with grace toss it to the air, just for it to fly off and perfectly return in your hand.

“What the FUCK.” Sam nearly screams.

“It’s all in the wrist.” You wink.

Bucky comes from behind and wraps his arms around your waist. “That’s my girl,” he brags and plants a kiss on your right cheek, “How’d ya sleep doll?” His voice isn’t gravelly, so they must’ve started working early this morning.

“Great until I woke up alone.” You pout, so he peppers you with more kisses.

“Sorry, sugar, but Sam needs the practice.”

“Fuck you!” Sam yells, “Either you two get a room, or help me out.”

“I’ll let y’all get back to it,” you say, “Sam, want to join us for lunch? I can make brisket sandwiches.”

“And this is why you’re my favorite.”

…

The two of them had been training all day, and while you watched for a while, you eventually resided on the living room couch with a book and Alpine curled next to you. Your record player spinning the David Bowie record Steve gifted you. Around lunch, Bucky and Sam finally joined you inside, but you were so wrapped in the story you were reading to notice them, until Bucky started singing along to the song playing.

“This is Ground Control to Major Tom…”

Your ears perk up and you spin around, forearms resting on the back of your leather couch, watching him serenade Sam in the kitchen. Sam giving him a funny look as he sways towards the refrigerator to take out the leftover brisket,

“You’ve really made the grade…”

Smiling you hop over the couch and join the men in the tiled room and join Bucky in the song, and eventually Sam follows along.

“Though I'm past one hundred thousand miles

I'm feeling very still

And I think my spaceship knows which way to go”

Bucky places the tupperware of meat on the counter, spins to you, and cupping your face in his hands, he sings,

“Tell my wife I love her very much she knows

Ground Control to Major Tom”

The cool metal and warm flesh contrast on your cheeks, and you smile and hold them in place with your own. His face becomes everything that matters before he tilts his head and leans in for a kiss. His lips are slightly chapped, probably from all the laughing and talking he did with Sam that morning, and you still taste the coffee from that morning. You melt into his touch and move your hands into his sweaty hair. Eventually, you both pull away for air and press your foreheads together.

“Okay, that was cute, so I’m gonna let it slide, but where are those damn sandwiches!” Sam finally pipes up. You giggle as Bucky groans and turns back to the counter, opening the plastic container.

The three of you enjoy sloppy brisket on wheat bread with a beer for each, even though regular alcohol had no effect on you two, the taste brought a little bit of normalcy to your isolated life. (You had some Asgardian mead you saved for special nights.)

…

Sam left after lunch, claiming to have had enough of Bucky’s “bullshit.”

“Not my fault he doesn’t know how to throw a damn shield.” Bucky chuckles after The Falcon’s departure.

The afternoon was warm, so you decided to go swimming. There was a small pond on your property, which makes the best swimming pool. You change into a navy blue one piece, while Bucky is adorned in his red swim shorts which might just be a little too short. You had gotten them for him as a joke, you just wanted him to wear them once and show off his thighs, but he ended up loving them.

The two of you pack up a small bag of snacks and beer and make your way to your little middle-of-nowhere-New-York oasis. Bucky instantly runs off the small, rotting fishing dock from before you owned the property, and cannonballs into the blue-green water. Laughing, you set the bag down, slip off your sandals, and chase after him.

Wading the water in peace, Bucky finally raises his voice.

“Do you remember that mission in the Laptev Sea?”

“No.”

You and Bucky were on countless missions together under Hydra, so many that some Bucky remembered, but you couldn’t and vice versa. You don’t talk about missions under Hydra much, as they’re usually traumatic, but sometimes a memory that’s not too bitter arises in one of your minds.

“I don’t remember what we were doing, I think someone on the coast had threatened to leak intel, so we were there to take them out. We were on jet skis, but someone shot yours out and you fell into the water. I must’ve turned around to get you because I remember your hair looking wet and tousled, like now, and it snapped me out of Hydra mode for a second, and I kissed you,” He chuckles to himself, “Our overseers were so pissed. I got one hell of a beating after that.”

That’s the part of the memories you don’t like. The beatings. Bucky was easier to get snapped out of Winter Soldier mode and sometimes would risk the worst sessions of torture just to hold your hand during missions. Occasionally, he got away with it, but usually it ended in shocks, or waterboarding. The worst times is when they made you, your head still goop from Hydra brainwashing, beat and torture him yourself. Sometimes you get visions of his beaten form below you, bleeding and broken as you hold a baton. The faint words leaving his bleeding lips before he gets dragged back to the chair to get wiped once more,

“This is all worth it, doll, one day we’ll be safe.”

Lost in your thoughts, you didn’t notice him swim over to you until his pruned flesh and metal hands are on your cheeks once more,

“And that kiss was worth it. No matter how much they could beat me, I would kiss you again and again.”

“But it wouldn’t be just them who beat you.”

Instead of answering, he puts his wet lips on yours. Your legs wrap around his waist as he keeps kicking underwater to keep the both of you afloat. You wrap your arms around his neck and close the extra space between your bodies.

The two of you swim and splash until sundown. After dinner and much needed showers, you cuddle in bed. He easily drifts asleep, but you have some trouble as you think of your past with Hydra. You did so many terrible things to him. How could he still love you?

Eventually you get a reassuring squeeze on your hips, it’s Bucky’s way of saying, “I can feel you’re not asleep, and you need to relax. You’re safe.”

You’re safe. And with that thought, you drift into unconsciousness.

#bucky barnes #the winter soldier #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes angst #bucky barnes x y/n #the winter soldier x you #the winter soldier x reader #the falcon #sam wilson #Sam Wilson imagine

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myheroheacanons · 6 years ago

Note

Can I request kirishima, bakugo and anyone else you want reacting to their winged s/o getting shot out of the sky by a villain?

Side note: I decided to make the readers quirk very similar to Hawks, and I think I’ll make her related to him also, like a younger sister or something. It’s honestly probably annoying at this point that I try to insert him into every single piece of writing I make but I just really love him so y’all gonna have to deal with it.

Ejirou Kirishima

He always loved your quirk

He thought it was so cool that you could fly and that you were like a bird

I mean who wouldn’t want a birds eye view of the whole city

You would sometimes take him on flights with you

Nobody was expecting what happened at the training camp to happen

All you remember is being separating from everyone else and frantically running through the whole forest, begging to find your friends or at least Mr. Aizawa rather than the villains

It’s not that you were exactly scared of the villains, quite the opposite actually

You knew they didn’t know how to plan strategically and just send those half dead nomu things to do their dirty work

But you were alone, you couldn’t fight that and all by yourself

As you were running, you kept coming closer to a purple gas

“It must be the villains doing” you thought as you flew up to the sky to get away from it

While you were at you tried to look for your friends, but to no success. The forest was densely covered with trees

Flying in one spot trying to find at least a clue of where everyone else was, you failed and couldn’t see anything. The smoke from the blue flames that surrounded the forest didn’t help either

Then suddenly, you felt a sharp pain in your wing, and then your other wing.

Someone shot both of your wings, with deadly aim. Pain pierced your body as you came crashing down to the ground, as your main source of flight was now hurt.

You hit the floor with a bid thud, which you weren’t exactly used to being that your landing were always skillful and gracious.

Your vision was getting hazy but you weren’t giving up so easily. You felt sharp pain throughout your body but regardless , got up. Your beautiful, white, angelic like wings - now had two bullet holes and were covered with blood.

But you couldn’t worry about that right now, there was a different problem. The gas. The purple essence was getting denser, almost as it was moving closer to you. Covering your mouth you squinted and tried to find the source. And to your misfortune, a person wearing a middle school uniform and a gas mask closed in on you.

Your only source of defense was gone, you were helpless what were you supposed to do? Adding on to that, you were getting very close to passing out without clean air. The boy was holding a gun and laughing through the gas mask. “For someone who’s the younger sister of a pro hero, I sure took you down easily” He laughed through his mask.

You couldn’t hold it anymore, as you finally went to take a breath the gas took over you and you felt to the ground and passed out

The next you awoke was in a hospital room and could feel someone holding your hand. You picked up your head to look who it was and it was everyone favorite redhead. Kirishima sat there holding your hand with a death grip and his forehead pressed to your thumb. You smiled, you were so relived to see him, to see he was safe. That’s all that mattered to you right now.You let a relieved sigh and his head shot up eyes filled with distress. And slowly that distress turned to ease. “Oh Y/N…” He sighed.

Kirishima has never been happier in his life, so relieved that you woke up. He was sitting there since yesterday night when you were brought to the hospital, holding your hand, praying you’d wake up. He didn’t let it show but he was so hurt. Not only was his best friend kidnapped and no one knows where so god knows when they’ll find him, or if they find him alive. When he found out you’ve been shot out of the sky he was furious, and so so worried.

“I’m so happy you’re awake, oh my god” he exclaimed and went in for a kiss. The kiss was so passionate, and filled with so much love. “I’ve missed you too, love” you told him.

Overall, Kirishima would be heartbroken and was so worried for you but as long as everything turned out okay , he was so thankful you weren’t permenantly injured and would be back on your feet soon

Katsuki Bakugou

Definitely saw you as a rival at first

Would get very annoyed if your wings hit him in the face on accident or on purpose

Will never admit it but he thinks your quirk is really cool

Anyways, let’s get back on track

The training camp was a horrible time for everyone. You at least managed to meet up with your boyfriend and Todoroki, which made you feel safe. Not like you were scared, you had a strong quirk and knew that those villains haven’t see what you three could do.

As you were running you encountered Moonfish, or to be exact the death row inmate Moonfish. Of course your boyfriend decided to rush in and try to take him down, which ended unsuccessfully and Todoroki saved him.

“Stop being a dumb ass, Katsuki!” You yelled at him. Sometimes you hated his fearless and reckless attitude. While him and Todoroki went back and forth you had to think of a way to take him down. He was towering above all of you and quite frankly it was terrifying. As his teeth turned to blades he tried to get one of you again, Todoroki’s ice preventing it from happening.

You had to get on his level. That’s the only way you could do something to defeat him or at least distract him enough for your friends to get away. “Katsuki, Todoroki, I’m going up!’ You yelled catching their attention from arguing. “NO don’t you dare!” Bakugou yelled after, too late for you to hear as you soared upwards to get face to face with the villain.

“His quirk lets him him manipulate and reshape his teeth into sharp blades.” You thought. “His quirk must be long ranged and without arms he’s probably horrible in hand to hand combat.” “If I could just know him out” You appeared from behind the ice observing the villains full glory. As you tried to get up close you felt something pierce your wings. Two shiny blades stuck out from both your wings. As Moonfish pulled them out you toppled to the ground in pain.

Bakugou felt sick to his stomach. Your beautiful white wings were now stained with blood. You hit the ground and Bakugou ran over to you and held you in his arms. “Idiot! Why the hell did you do that!?” He yelled tears threatening to spill. “I’m fine” You said standing up, knees buckling underneath you. “I can still fight” You said pain flowing through your entire body. Before you can mutter out another sentence, you felt your vision get dark and the last thing you saw was Kastuki’s face yelling out your name.

You have idea how long it’s been since the attack. You awoke in the hospital and it was evening out. No one was in the room with you. After laying there for a couple trying to remember all the events of the attack all you remember your wings being pierced through by blades. You looked back at your wings, they still hurt just a little but the pain wasn’t unbearable. The wounds looked to have already healed, leaving little scars behind, that were covered by feathers.

Suddenly you heard the door slide open and Kirishima walked in. “L/N” He exclaimed upon seeing you awake. You gave him a small smile ans he ran up to you and gave you a gentle hug, be careful about hurting you. “I’m glad to see you too” You said pulling away from the hug. “Where’s Katsuki?” You ask visibly being confused. You saw the expression on Kirishima’s face change upon hearing the question. He avoided eye contact and looked so sad. “What’s wrong? Was he hurt?!” You question as your anxiety levels went up.

“Not exactly, we don’t know for sure.” Kirishima said gloomily. After he explained the situation to you, your brain just stopped for a second. Katsuki, the strongest guy you knew was kidnapped. What do you even do in this situation. Kirishima offered to take you with him on his rescue mission but you were afraid that your wings would give you guys away. All you could do is sit in the damn hospital and pray and hope that he would come back safe.

#bnha #mha #boku no hero academia #my hero academia #my hero academia headcanons #mha bakugou #bakugou katsuki #bakugou x reader #kirishima x reader #ejirou kirishima #mha kirishima #bnha kirishima #bnha bakugou #bnha bakugou x reader #bnha kirishima x reader #winged s/o #bnha headcanons #katsuki bakugou #mha hawks

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ohmeohmayohmy · 6 years ago

Text

With the Slightest Smile, Chapter 6

Taglist: @reedusteinrambles @juxt4p0siti0n @kurtnehhhh @singularpurplepansy @chlobo6

Notes: Tumblr was throwing a fit, so it’s taken a while to upload this bad boy. But good god, my heart is thawing out from that sweet, sweet Brian emotional turmoil. I love the man, and sometimes my heart aches for him. Maybe someday things will get better for him. I’d like to think so. Also, DAMN my boys are looking fine. 💕

Warnings: Implications of sexual nature (nothing in detail, no smut), a little bit of drinking, brief mention of body image issues, some F-bombs.

Words: 8.1k+

___________________________________

August 20, 1973

4:04am.

Again.

Only twenty four hours ago, you spent sweet time with Brian, together in the kitchen you shared, enjoying each other's sleepy company. Presently, Brian was alone, laying in bed, trying not to watch helplessly as the time ticked away on his bedside clock. Twenty four hours ago, it was as if you were all his, and he was all yours. No one outside of the confines of the flat existed.

But life goes on.

You were still at work.

And Brian had yet to fall asleep.

He couldn’t stop thinking about what happened at the nightclub mere hours ago. What transpired between you and John. It was cycling through his mind on repeat: the hope in Deaky’s eyes, how enamored he looked through the haze of intoxication; your response, how you held your hand to his chest before telling him no. What Brian couldn’t seem to move past was how you said it. You made it clear that you had no intention of saying yes to John under the influence of alcohol, but that didn’t mean you would still refuse in another situation. He wanted so desperately to convince himself it was the man, not the moment, but all that would come to mind were images of you and John laughing, with you sharing a smile that Brian wanted for himself. It was all too familiar, and he didn’t think he could endure losing you to someone close again.

Years ago, he came up with the rule that neither of you would talk about romantic interests unless prompted. You agreed. He never asked, so you never told. Now, it was all Brian could do to not ask you how you felt about Deaky. He was afraid to know the answer, but god, he wanted to.

Though the window was cracked open and the fan was blowing, Brian felt that the air filling his room grew hotter and staler with each passing minute. He tried to get out from the blankets, to rid himself of any excessive insulation, but in doing so he only managed to get tangled up more deeply in the sheets. Kicking and straining, Brian’s right leg broke free, followed by his hips and torso, then he wriggled his left leg into the coolness of the bedroom. He flung his tee shirt from his clammy chest, and stripped his boxers, throwing them directly at the hamper across the way. None of it seemed to help.

No matter how free he was, Brian still suffocated in sorrow.

_______________

September 27

“Nurse?”

You had your back turned to the desk, facing the center of the nurses’ station, your eyes closed shut. Strangely, the hospital lighting was giving you a headache. It seldom had that effect on you. Perhaps it had something to do with the fact that you hadn’t taken a day off in a week, that you were sleep deprived. It didn’t matter.

“Nurse Y/L/N.” The person addressing you sounded more assertive. With a deep breath, you spun around to see whomever it was.

Doctor Tead.

“Hello, sir,” you spoke in a chipper tone, hiding your weariness. “Can I do something for you?”

“Perhaps. Nurse Roberts said your shift ended twenty minutes ago, but discovered you sitting here. Can you explain that?”

“Oh, well I—”

“We are not in the business of paying overtime for those who just sit taking a doze, do you understand?”

You nodded slowly.

“I can’t hear you.”

“Yes, sir.”

Doctor Tead relished in the moment. “Good girl,” he cooed in condescension, patting your hand, and began strutting off.

You watched the doctor disappear behind a patient’s door, fuming at his gross, patronizing comments. He wasn’t even the head of medicine; he was not your boss and had no real power over the nursing staff. Doctor Tead was the only person in the hospital that you harbored a sincere loathing for. He was a middle aged man who would hit on every new young nurse, and if one were to turn him down, he would make it his personal business to ruin her day. Needless to say, there were many recipients of Tead’s hectoring.

You grumbled as you slid from the seat, smoothed out your uniform, and grabbed your purse. Nurse Roberts, the head nurse, approached you after seeing that you were up.

“Take a couple of days off, honey.”

She was a stern, intimidating woman, but she cared for her nurses with intense compassion. You smiled at her before she could return to her other tasks. “I will see you on Sunday.” With a wave of the hand, she was gone.

You exited through the ward’s doors and began your descent downstairs. The main lobby of the hospital was fairly empty, there was only a visiting family and a few new admittances waiting to be brought up. A nurse standing by the front desk said goodbye before you walked outside. You exchanged some quick pleasantries, then continued on your way. Coming upon the parking lot, your attention was caught by someone walking toward you. He grinned at you. It was one of the younger doctors, Arthur Carlisle.

“Hello, Y/L/N,” he stopped to greet you. “Leaving so soon? Just when I arrive?” He teased you, as he often did, but you weren’t in the mood.

“Shift’s up.” You felt bad for being curt, but getting away from there was your current priority. “Have to get home.” When you tried to sidestep past him, he stuck an arm out.

“Are you alright?”

“I am tired.” You pushed his arm down and out of your way. “Have a nice evening, Doctor Carlisle.” You started to walk again, at a faster pace than before.

“Wait, Y/N,” the doctor called after you. You tensed at the sound of your first name being used. Only other nurses would address you as such. Never doctors. You didn’t take another step, but you didn’t look back at him either. Taking that as an invitation, Carlisle came up to stand next to you. “I’ll give him hell for you,” he said, referring to Tead. You gave him a tiny smirk, then carried on to the nearby stop for the Tube. “And it’s Arthur to you!”

* * *

Rides home were the few times where you could sit back and immerse yourself in your headspace without interference. People wouldn’t bother you in your nurse’s uniform if you appeared to be sleeping–they wouldn’t dare disturb you.

You leaned against the back of your seat, resting your head on the window to your left. You placed your legs up beside you, since your row was otherwise vacant. The rattle of the train was soothing, giving enough noise to make you feel not as alone as you did, but not enough to distract or interrupt your thoughts.

You hadn’t spent time with the band over the course of the last month, only barely seeing Brian when your schedules allowed for it. Roger stopped by once or twice to get things from Brian while you were home, but that was the extent of interaction. You wanted to distance yourself, give any drama that was bubbling up a chance to simmer down. What John had said on his birthday made you question how much time and attention you were giving to the group, and the implications behind it all. You didn’t mean to give anyone the wrong idea. You didn’t want to give anyone the wrong idea. So, you decided it best to stop hanging around the studio for a while. Brian concurred a little too hastily.

Stella kept you company on most of the nights when near-isolation became too much, and Brian was busy. Sometimes her girlfriend, Odette, would join in the festivities of the evening, bringing in pastries from the bakery she ran, but mostly Stella would come alone and let you rant as much as necessary. You found it easier to get riled up on certain days, especially those on which you had interactions with Doctor Tead. More often than not, however, you would sip on the champagne Stella brought with her and speak tipsy, teary musings about love and life. She found the spectacle very amusing, being the sober onlooker.

The screech of brakes echoed through the traincar, taking you out of your head. When you came out onto the street, you noticed the sky was still speckled with rosy-hued streaks and creamy clouds. The trees lining the streets framed the sight like a painting, and you felt like a piece of the art just by witnessing it. You slowly made your way home, passing several people. Some you recognized and others you didn’t, but you flashed a tired smile at anyone who came your way. With work behind you, you wanted to move forward in the day with happiness instead of resentment. The closer you got to your building, the bigger your smile became. Noting that Brian’s car was parked in its usual place, you quickened your gait. As you came up the indoor stairwell, you fished through your purse for keys.

I really do need to clear this thing out.

Walking through the hallway, you smelled something cooking. Making it to your door, you located the source of the scent and heard music playing. The light streaming through the gap between the door and the floor was faint. You hesitantly turned the key in the lock, hoping you weren’t about to interrupt anything. Pushing the door open enough to squeeze through, you glanced around the living room.

No one was there, but there were lit candles twinkling on every surface you could see. You didn’t think you and Brian even possessed that many candles between the two of you.

You tiptoed to the kitchen, trying to remain as inaudible as possible. The countertops were absolutely spotless, and there were two unused wine glasses set out next to a fresh platter of butternut squash ravioli and a bowl of simple tossed salad. You took in a whiff of the food, making your mouth water. It was one of your favorite dishes, and the only thing you had eaten since your shift started at 5 o’clock that morning was an apple. Shaking your head to rid yourself of the temptation, you left the kitchen to see if anyone was in the flat. You knew Brian’s car was downstairs, but you couldn’t know for certain that he was alone.

Inching down to Brian’s bedroom, you could make out a gentle whimper from behind his door. It was quiet, but as you got nearer to it, the more distinct it became. You grew worried, beginning to take larger strides. Then the soft whimpering was accompanied by some panting. It struck you. You didn’t want to barge in on him if he was with a girl, so you froze just short of the doorway with a hand in the air prepared to knock, stopped out of not wanting to intrude on Brian’s privacy. You felt stuck to the floor, unable to move your feet.

To your horror, the door suddenly flew open, and you stood face to face with a sweaty Brian. Upon seeing you, his eyes widened and his expression was mortified. His face was red, possibly from embarrassment, but that was probably not the sole factor. He cleared his throat.

“I’m sorry, Brian,” you spoke first, and started babbling, “I didn’t know you had company. I would’ve made myself scarce or—”

“Oh, no no no no,” he shook his hands in front of his body with great fervor. “I’m, uh, I’m alone.”

You furrowed your brow, confused by the romantic atmosphere. The candles. The wine. The fancy food.

Wow.

You didn’t know what to say.

Say something!

“You really go all out when romancing yourself, huh?”

Anything would have been better than that! Silence is better than that!

You clapped a hand over your mouth, ashamed. You couldn’t bring yourself to make eye contact with your best friend. He towered over you, but somehow, he stood small.

“Sorry,” you whispered from behind your hand. Brian chuckled awkwardly.

“It’s alright, Y/N.”

You looked up at him, and could see his eyes screaming, but decidedly didn’t say anything about it out of gratitude for his understanding. Due to the sheer discomfort, you started laughing involuntarily, with your hand still placed over your mouth. Brian reached out a hand to put it on your shoulder, to calm you, but decided that wouldn’t be best.

You straightened up, wiping a tear of laughter from your eye. “Did you wait for me to have dinner?” He nodded, his gaze intense but sweet. You weren’t paying enough attention to see that.

“I wasn’t sure when you’d be home, exactly,” Brian played with his hair. “It should still be warm. At least, I hope so.”

“Mind if I clean myself up first?” You bit your lip, gesturing to your uniform.

“I was about to ask you the same,” he said, lighthearted. You beamed at his delicate face.

“After you,” you motioned to the bathroom door. Brian gave you a funny look, but you weren’t thinking about your words. He dipped his head and ducked into the room.

You turned to grab clean clothes from your bedroom and kick the shoes off your aching feet. Brian came out after a couple minutes.

“All yours,” he peered into your room with a smile painfully plastered across his cheeks. You gathered up your things and went to turn the water on. A scalding hot shower was all you needed to wash the day away.

* * *

Brian felt foolish as he waited for you to finish your shower. You didn’t seem to understand what he was putting out for you, running around making the flat more presentable. Or the energy he spent trying to figure out how to make ravioli from scratch, and the time it took to ask for help from one of your neighbors when he broke down over his cooking failure. Even getting hold of and lighting all the candles was a larger undertaking than he anticipated. If you couldn’t see what he was trying to tell you, maybe it wasn’t such a good idea to bring it up.

You finally opened the bathroom door, steam rolling out through the hall like a thick fog. Stepping into the living room, you radiated warmth. Brian watched you approach him in your purple pajama set, hair still wet but not dripping. The flickering of the candles reflected in the satiny fabric covering your body. Brian had to force his eyes to keep them from dancing all over your figure. He gulped, hoping you wouldn’t notice.

“Should I get down some plates for us?” You started for the cupboard.

“No,” Brian reached out a hand to touch you. “You don’t need to lift a finger, go take a seat. ’Ve got it.” He smiled genuinely, urging you to relax. You appreciated the sentiment, so you went to throw yourself on the sofa.

A few moments later, Brian set down a wine glass in front of you and one in front of the worn “study chair”, where he would sit. He popped open a new bottle of moscato and poured a generous amount into each of your cups. Placing the bottle on the far end of the coffee table, he spun around and marched back into the kitchen. You heard the clanging of some dishes, setting you on edge, but when Brian reemerged with two plates of ravioli and salad, you lazed back into the softness of the couch. He settled into his customary position.

“Cheers,” he held out his glass.

“Cheers.” You smiled into your drink as you took a sip.

Brian had some trouble getting a ravioli to latch onto the prongs of his fork. It was enough to entertain you, until he gave up and started on his salad. You were not met with the same difficulty, and smugly scooped a piece of the entree into your mouth, making sure Brian was watching. He stuck out his tongue, then with a stroke of luck, managed to get one to stay long enough for him to eat.

Of course, it was all a show for you. He just wanted to make you happy. He had spoken to Stella earlier when she called for you, and she let it slip that you were having a hard time lately, between your problems at work and the sudden separation from her other friends, the boys.

“So, what’s all of this, then?” You glanced around at the candles and the cleanliness.

In that moment, Brian decided to put off any big revelations for another time. You were exhausted and needed some time to enjoy yourself, without clouds of worry. He looked down and grinned softly.

“Wanted to celebrate you,” Brian’s voice matched his expression.

You didn’t understand what he meant. You never did.

He perked up. “I mean, someone ought to. You’re one of our country’s finest healers!” His playful exclamation hit you with a wave of affection. You could tell he was trying to cheer you up, and you could feel it working.

“Well, I don’t know about that—”

“I do.”

The conversation subsided as you both took a moment to eat the food before you.

“This is delicious,” you said in between bites. “Did you get it from Sicilian Cafe?”

Brian shook his head, mouth still full of salad. “No,” he swallowed, “I actually made it from scratch.”

You were awed. “Really?” He nodded, feeling slightly guilty for not including the part where the culinary student, who lived on the floor below, helped only after having him cry to her for several minutes, but he didn’t find it to be a necessary detail. He liked your amazement, it made him feel good.

“You’re quite impressive, Mister May.”

Brian took a swig from his wine, finishing off the contents of his glass. Noticing, you picked up the bottle and handed it to him. He thanked you.

“Would you mind topping me off too? ’S been a long week.” Brian complied.

In the middle of taking a drink, something occurred to him. “Oh!” He spilled some wine on the floor. You jumped up to grab a rag to clean it up. Brian took it from you and dabbed at the spillage.

“Sorry, Y/N.”

“Don’t be. I’m just amazed you’re actually cleaning something up,” you teased. “Anyway, what were you thinking about that caused such a frenzy?”

“Well,” he started, draping the rag over the arm of his chair. “The boys and I have been working with these great guys, y’know, Mott the Hoople?” You nodded, vaguely remembering talking to Freddie about them. “And they’ve asked us to tour with them!” Your jaw dropped.

“They what? When?!”

“It was made official a couple days ago, and we’re starting in Leeds in November.”

You got up from your seat and wrapped your arms around Brian. He pulled you onto his lap so he could hold you tighter. You stroked his hair.

“Oh, Bri, I am so proud of you.” As you whispered into his ear, you could feel some tears welling up in your eyes. You pulled back for a second, to look at him. “See? I told you, you were meant to do great things.” Brian gripped onto one of your wrists and brought your hand closer to him. Before he could stop himself, he laid a tender kiss on top of your thumb. Startled, you abruptly pulled your hand away, not expecting the action. He looked upset, or guilty, and you couldn’t decide which.

Maybe he’s getting caught up in the excitement, you thought, writing it off as an intimate gesture shared between good friends in an intimate moment. You got up from where you sat, but shot Brian a reassuring smile, and began to pick up the empty plates. He sprung out of the chair.

“Oh, you don’t have to do—” he cut himself off, “I made dessert, too.”

You put the dishes back down on the table, unsure what to do.

A pause. You hesitated for a bit while debating the notion, but gave into your cravings. “What did you make?”

Brian smiled devilishly. “Red velvet.” He knew you loved the cream cheese frosting, and he was proud that he could actually make it by himself.

You sucked your bottom lip in between your teeth. “You’re too good to me, Brian May. God, what did I do to deserve you?” Brian blushed and turned to go into the kitchen.

Once you were alone, you finally recognized that music was still playing on Brian’s old record player. It was a collection of Ella Fitzgerald standards, one of your favorite albums. Your father gifted it to you for your thirteenth birthday. Wishing you had paid more attention, you could tell you missed most of the tracks. The jazz swelling through the air had a physical effect on you, you found new energy to sway and sing along.

In the kitchen, Brian brought out a lopsided cake covered in lumpy frosting. The flowers that were originally envisioned appeared to be pink globs of disappointment. He frowned, thinking it was glorious before, but now, he only felt embarrassment at the idea of presenting it to you. With a sad sigh and a small shrug, he took out a knife and cut two slices. From where he stood, Brian could hear your voice softly carrying the tune of “Dream a Little Dream of Me” and the faint pattering of your feet dancing across the creaky wooden planks. The thought of you joyfully moving to the rhythm in your skimpy sleep shorts, and your damp hair twisted up in a messy ‘do was enough to jolt him from his pitiful mood.

When he came out with the small dessert plates in hand, Brian was overcome at the sight of you. You had your eyes closed, your hips swaying to and fro, your feet occasionally making steps from one side to the other. He leaned against the wall closest to him and began to sing along with you. You noticed the shift in sound and glanced at Brian.

He started to sing Louis Armstrong’s harmony, so you joined as Ella came in. You walked up to him to take the slices of cake and put them on the coffee table. As you did, Brian came closer and you turned to take his hand in yours. He laughed a little as you grooved more playfully, smiling at your touch. You let him go to show off some disco moves in slow motion, fitting them to the tempo of the song. Brian tried to mirror your actions, but to no avail. His own movements were clumsy and looked very unnatural for him, so you reached out to him again to take him into your arms. Brian was more comfortable that way. Since it was the last song on the record, you let it play through to a full stop.

You released your friend from your grasp to adjust your top. Brian shyly moved to his chair to await your company before touching his dessert. You lounged on the sofa, dangling your clean feet over the arm nearest to him. He offered you the plate with your piece of cake on it, which you happily accepted. Grabbing your fork, you shoveled a portion into your mouth without studying the decorations. Brian felt a little relieved that you weren’t interested in observing the slice.

“This is delicious,” you said with half a bite still in the process of being consumed. Brian usually despised loud chewing noises, but he overlooked them, enjoying your delight.

“I do what I can.”

You were so grateful for this random little “celebration” he put on for you. You didn’t even question the candlelit meal for a second.

“So, how were the boys? Just as thrilled as you?”

Brian chuckled. “Roger and Fred were practically bouncing off the walls.” He intentionally didn’t mention John.

“Do you know the first date yet? I could try to request the day off.” You scrambled for another bite.

“I am not quite sure. I think it’s the fifth or sixth.”

“Well, I could come with you to the studio tomorrow to confirm. ’Ve been given a break until Sunday.”

Brian shifted his position. “We’re actually not in the studio tomorrow.”

You were disappointed, but tried to hide it. Brian could tell. He cleared his throat.

“But we are going to do some shopping, if you’d be interested.”

That perked you right up again.

“Yeah? All of you?”

“As if Freddie would let us pick out our own performance wear,” Brian scoffed. You nodded in agreement. “He says we’ve got to be more ‘glam’.”

You blew out, raising your eyebrows, and nodded again with more subtlety. “I wouldn’t say you or John have the flashiest of wardrobes.” Brian narrowed his eyes with indignation. “Now Roger…” You shrugged, indicating that you considered his fashion to be more adventurous. “But I think Freddie could only be described as ‘extravagant’, ‘glam’ is too mundane.”

Brian loosened up at the notion. “I think he would prefer that, too.”

You finished your dessert and stood up to clear the table. Brian got up to help you, taking the large dinner plates while you grabbed the wine glasses and dessert dishes. You directed him to put everything on the countertop, and turned on the water for it to warm.

“Stella could come too, if you’d like,” he tried to steer the conversation back to the outing.

You snorted, not looking up from the plate you were washing. “You know how she feels about Roger.”

“But she loves judging fashion.”

“As much as she despises him?”

“But she could judge his fashion.” Brian had a gleam in his eye, and it didn’t stem from the excitement that the promise of dish drying provided.

You stopped what you were doing to face him. “I think she’ll pass.” Brian threw his hands up to show defeat, waving the white dish rag in surrender. You returned to your task.

The sound of the faucet was the only noise for a few moments.

“How was work today, Y/N?” He changed the subject, knowing only what Stella had told him over the phone about the past week. You groaned.

“Hellish.”

“Anything out of the ordinary?”

“Not really. Doctor Tead was a total rotter, as usual.” You thought about it some more. “Doctor Carlisle called me by my name.”

Brian was perplexed by the oddity of the interaction, until he remembered the complete division between doctors and nurses. But he hadn’t heard this name before. “Who’s that?”

“He’s one of the younger members of the medical staff. Strange. Great physician.” You paused. “The children adore him. He even lets them call him Arty.”

“Was he there when Tead was around?”

“No, he’d only just arrived as I was leaving. We have wonky timing like that. One of us is always going out as the other is coming in.”

“Does he usually call you that?”

You shook your head. “First time. He even tried to get me to call him Arthur.”

“Maybe he wants to recruit you to join him at the Round Table.”

You threw the sponge into its basket after finishing your cleaning duties. “I think I’d make a great Sir Lancelot.” You puffed out your chest.

“Lady Guinevere,” Brian considered.

“Because I’m a girl?”

“I was thinking I would be Lady Guinevere. You’re the handsome knight who steals me away.”

“Ooh, I don’t know,” you tutted. “I wouldn’t want to get in the way of anything between you and Doctor Carlisle.” Brian looked unamused, but he didn’t really mind. He secretly loved the silly banter.

“We better blow all the candles out before we both forget and go to bed.” You shifted the topic of conversation again.

Brian’s face grew red at the mention of it. He wanted to forget where he had planned the evening to go. Before you could even make a step in the direction of the living room, Brian darted out of the kitchen. It was the fastest you’d seen him move in a while. You followed shortly behind, but most of the flames had been put out by the time you joined him.

“Brian?” You piped up. He looked up at you. “Why so many candles?”

So close. He was so close to avoiding the subject. Thankfully, he could think well on his feet.

“Just thought you might appreciate some softer lighting after a long day in the hospital.”

“How did you know?”

“Lucky guess?”

You accepted his answer, blowing on the last of the flaming wicks, and took a seat.

“I think I should go to bed,” Brian began rushing off to his bedroom.

“It’s barely even dark outside.”

He stopped. “Today’s been longer than you could imagine.”

You were unimpressed. “Is that a challenge?” You folded your arms over your chest.

“I’m simply saying I don’t have your motivation—”

“You were able to be at home all day, lounging like some lizard on a hot rock.” Brian laughed at your odd simile. You cracked a smile too. “Please? We hardly get to just sit and enjoy time without having to be anywhere, anymore.”

“If you insist, love.” He moved to return to his designated chair, but before he could sit down, you patted down on the cushion next to you. He acted nonchalant, taking his time before joining you.

“So, when are we going out on the town tomorrow?” You tossed your legs over Brian’s lap, and leaned back to lay on one of the throw pillows you had picked out years before.

“I know Fred will want to be up and at ’em early, but the rest of us probably aren’t planning to get out of bed until at least eleven.”

You were content with that. “I can do eleven.”

“Fortunately for us, he can’t drive. So he can’t just show up unannounced.”

“Unless he gets Roger to do his bidding,” you said dryly. You couldn’t forget the time Freddie had walked in on your floury wrestling match not long ago.

“I don’t think anyone could get Rog rallied and presentable before ten,” Brian joked, the thought going over his head.

“Then let’s hope for that. Nothing before ten.”

_______________

September 28

The morning came all too quickly. However, you and Brian were ready to go before you even got a call from the others, telling you to hurry yourselves. Out of the lot of them, Brian was notorious for sleeping in. However, Freddie was the one who was consistently arriving late. Unless he was the one organizing the outing.

You were sitting on the couch, flipping through a magazine while waiting for Brian to locate his trainers.

“Did you look under the mound of laundry?” You shouted out to him. You could hear a grunt of umbrage, causing you to wrinkle your nose in response. “Well?”

Brian appeared through the entry, looking triumphant with a black pair of dirty Converse hanging by their laces from his fingers.

“And where were they?” You returned your focus on the images in front of you.

Brian sighed. “Under the laundry,” he mumbled. He kneeled to lace up the shoes.

“Interesting.” You tossed the magazine onto the coffee table and set your feet on the ground. He stood at the same time. “Ready, m’lady?” You offered the crook of your arm to Brian. He scrunched his face in confusion. “Guinevere,” you elaborated. His mouth formed an O with remembrance, bobbing his head lazily.

“Did you call by Roger’s place, letting ’im know we’re on our way?”

“Yes, a couple minutes ago. Fred thought you should forget about those old things,” you sneered as you pointed to Brian’s feet, “but I told him to forget about that awful peacock hat of his, and it shut him up nicely.”

“Fred was there?”

“And John was too. I figure they spent the night.”

Brian brought his shoulders up slightly. “Convenient for us, that means we only have to make one stop.” He grabbed the keys from the counter. “Suppose we better go.”

You beat him to the door and swung it open, moving into the hall. Brian slammed it behind him, dropping his keys simultaneously. You both bent down to grab them, and again, you beat him to it. But his hand engulfed yours anyway, not fully thinking nor looking. You breathed softly, bringing your sights up to his eyes.

Hazel.

You smiled.

I always forget.

He returned the smile, his own breath hitching in his throat.

The stillness was interrupted by someone stomping up the stairs. It was the neighbor whose flat was across from yours. You never could recall his name. He looked down at the pair of you and blew air through his nose, humor crinkling around his eyes.

“How many people does it take to grab keys off the floor?”

“Two, apparently,” you sassed, still locked in your crouching position with Brian. You didn’t look at him, but you could feel that his gaze never left your face.

The humor faded and your neighbor scowled as he pushed his own door open, going inside and closing it without another look. With a sigh of satisfaction, you got up from the ground, bringing Brian with you.

“Lonely sot,” you murmured to Brian, who tossed his head back with silent laughter.

* * *

“Look who’s here,” Freddie chirped, widening the door to Roger’s flat for you and Brian to enter through. Brian spoke a quiet greeting, but Fred ignored him and wrapped himself around you. He pressed a kiss on your forehead. “How are you, darling?”

You sunk further into his grasp. “I’m alright, Fred. Missed you.”

He pulled out of the embrace to grab your shoulders, looking you square in the eye. “You can’t leave us alone again for that long, Y/N. We nearly strangled each other every chance we got.”

“Yeah, a medical professional would be helpful if one of us actually went through with it,” Roger chimed in, moving Freddie out of the way to get to you. He winked at you before pulling you into his arms. “Glad to see you.”

You giggled. “You’re all talking like I dropped off the face of the planet, or something. I was busy with work, you know that.” You pressed your palm into one of Roger’s shoulders, playing. You hadn’t said anything to him or Freddie about what they missed on John’s birthday, and highly doubted Brian or Deaky himself would bring it up. Work was your excuse, and they didn’t question it.

You swiveled your head around to find John standing alone, halfway across the room. He gave a small wave before slowly making his way over to the rest of you. “Hi, Y/N.” John looked down at his feet. You noticed he wasn’t wearing any shoes.

Is he not coming?

With timidity, Deaky pecked your cheek quickly, but not quick enough for Brian to miss it.

He clenched his jaw.

“You boys ready to go?” You tore your focus from John to address the others.

“Yeah.”

“I’ve been ready to give Brian a new wardrobe since the day I met him.”

Brian looked exasperated by Freddie’s remark, but you and Roger couldn’t hold back your chuckles.

“No Mary?” You asked Fred.

“She won’t be joining us. Has work to do, or some other nonsense,” he joked. You smirked.

In the brief moments of your reunion with Roger, John, and Freddie, you already felt more emotionally fulfilled. Brian saw the content on your face.

You turned back to John. “Where are your shoes?” He looked dumbfounded. You looked at Brian. “Maybe they’re under your dirty clothes, too.” He rolled his eyes, but all in good fun.

Freddie gasped dramatically. “Is it really that bad?” You gave an overexaggerated nod.

“It is not!”

“Ah, shut up, Bri.” Roger batted a hand at the taller man.

“You’ve got room to talk,” Brian said sarcastically, motioning his arms to the entirety of Roger’s flat. “At least I’m just messy and not dirty.”

“Is there even a fucking difference?”

“There is a very important distinction!”

“And what exactly would that be?”

“One involves messes and the other involves dirt!”

You and Freddie exchanged looks, amused by the childish tiff. He glanced at the clock on the table and cleared his throat.

“Dears?” Freddie spoke calmly and politely. Brian and Roger stepped back from each other and looked at him. “We should be going.” You were dazzled by his sunny behavior. The other two grumbled as they started for the door. Freddie put an arm around both of their shoulders, saying things you didn’t care to listen to.

You walked closer to John.

“Hi,” you whispered kindly.

“Hello.” He spoke with a far away look in his eyes.

“How’re you?”

Deaky looked back down to his feet. You were discouraged, seeing him appear uncomfortable even after a month of evasion.

“I’m sorry.” He wouldn’t look at you.

Your heart broke a little for him. You reached for one of the limp hands hanging to his side, keeping it firmly in your own.

“It’s alright, sunshine,” you muttered. “I know you didn’t mean it.” Those words caused him to meet your gaze. John opened his mouth to object, but didn’t say anything when he saw the compassion in your eyes.

He knew you were lying.

You knew he had told the truth.

The door closed. You both turned to see what happened. Only Freddie remained in the flat with you. He had his arms crossed and a sly look scrawled across his face.

“I managed to get TweedleDee and TweedleDum out to bring the car around.” He sighed. “They even argued about whose car we were using.”

John looked horrified.

“Don’t worry, Deaky, I didn’t hear a thing.”

Neither of you could tell if he was being sincere or not.

A lull filled the space. You weren’t sure what to do, or say.

“Who are TweedleDee and TweedleDum?”

“Love, haven’t you seen that Disney film?” You both shook your heads. Freddie grinned.

“It’s a fantastic trip.”

* * *

The ride into town was long.

You resented being squished in the back between Roger and Deaky. Brian had won the argument over who would get to drive, and Freddie insisted on riding up front next to him, claiming it was his “birthright as the oldest”. You relented, knowing you wouldn’t be able to go up against him.

John mumbled to himself, “Still think we should’ve taken the train.” You mentally agreed with him, but sat in silence.

Periodically, Roger would ask you something about the hospital, reminding you that he once was a biology student, studying to be a practitioner of dentistry. You were happy to engage in conversation, enjoying the chance to talk about it with someone you didn’t work with. Brian was a brilliant man, and understood the concepts you mentioned, but sometimes you felt as though he thought too much when you spoke to him about medicine; he would often respond with a tidbit about physics.

Brian glanced in the rear view mirror to see the back seat, and saw Roger’s arm resting on his leg, his hand cradling his chin. You talked with excitement in your voice and eyes, causing Roger to hang onto every word you said. John was staring out the window, unresponsive. Brian was so distracted by the scene behind him, he forgot about the world in front of him. Freddie tapped him on the shoulder, making him snap out of it, and pointed to the road ahead, full of traffic. Brian slammed on the brakes, causing Beatrix to lurch and let out a concerning noise. Roger, not paying attention, hit his head on the back of Freddie’s seat.

“Ow!” He rubbed his forehead. “I thought you were supposed to be a good driver, May.”

“Still better than you, Taylor,” Brian huffed.

“Oh, stop it, you two.” Freddie sounded playful, but you all could tell he was growing tired of the bickering.

“So,” you spoke up, more cheerful than your company. “Where exactly are you bringing us, Fred?”

“Excellent question, Y/N! None of these simpletons even bothered to ask.” He glared into the mirror, pointedly at Roger, then to John. “There’s this lovely little shop where my friend Minnie works. She said she could get us good deals on the merchandise.”

“That’s great!”

No one else said a thing. Brian reached for the knob to turn up the radio, but Freddie slapped his hand away.

“I was also thinking we could go for lunch, but only if I see some spirits rise.”

“Eh, if they want to mope, maybe just you and I will go.” You patted Freddie’s shoulder.

John lifted his head from the window and sat up straight, the height difference between the two of you suddenly very prominent. “I think that sounds nice.” He hadn’t said much during the drive, except the occasional sassy comment made under his breath that only you were able to hear. You smiled at his change in demeanor.

* * *

There were velvet trousers in every hue. Satin shirts with zany patterns. Jewelry of varying designs. It was sort of what you imagined Freddie’s paradise to be like.

You dragged Brian by the hand to go through some tops you thought he’d be fond of. He was never hesitant about more feminine styles. He loved lacy things. You held up a black shirt with large sleeves up against your body, trying to get him to imagine what it would look like on a body. Brian had a moment of deja vu.

--October 25, 1961--

“Which one do you like better?” Brian asked you, holding up a flowy purple dress, followed by a longer blue one, then switching back and forth between them.

In your hands, you held a delicate white frock. The fabric glistened in the sunlight from the window behind you. You watched Brian twirl the garments around for your benefit, insisting it would help you “envision the silhouette” better. You giggled when he lifted the hanger of the purple one over his head, setting it around his neck.

“Well, I think that one suits you nicely.”

“Ya think so?” He craned his neck downward to get a better look at it from his angle. “Think it works with my womanly figure?” Brian shimmied for you, letting the dress swing around in front of his gangly frame. You put the white one back on its rack and gave him a cheer, accompanied by an enthusiastic round of applause.

The other patrons of the shop glared at the two rowdy teenagers disrupting the quiet atmosphere. Neither of you cared, wrapped up in the fun you were having. Brian only stopped dancing when he noticed a young man, who appeared to be several years older than himself, smiling at him. He was with his girlfriend, at least Brian thought it was his girlfriend, who was sifting through a section of evening wear. She would hold up a glittering gown to see his reaction, and if he seemed to like it, she’d drape it over her forearm with the others he approved of. Everytime he said something kind, the young woman would gaze up at him with pure adoration. Brian hoped others thought you looked at him like that.

“I just don’t know if I could pull it off.”

Brian came out of his trance to focus on you. He hung the blue dress back where he found it. “What do you mean?”

You bit your cheek.

“It’s certainly beautiful, but I don’t think it would look as nice on me as is does on the hanger.” You lowered your eyes, feeling vulnerable.

Being in a place full of gorgeous women with attire to match made you feel self-conscious. You thought that puberty hadn’t been kind to you, you felt like a stranger in your own skin. In fact, you only worked up the nerve to go in when Brian said he would try on dresses with you.

For once, Brian felt like he wasn’t the frightened one.

“Oh, don’t be so fucking ridiculous.”

Your mouth was agape, you were shocked by the words that escaped his lips. He scrambled to find the words he meant to say, realizing that wasn’t a great start.

“A hanger’s only an object. Nothing can look beautiful on a hanger.” He shifted his weight into his right hip. “At least, not in comparison to the beauty it can reflect when it’s on someone.” He coughed, then lowered his voice. “On you.”

At this point, Brian knew he felt something for you. A little more than friendship. Or a lot more. He came to terms with the emotions some months ago, but he had hoped it would have subsided by now.

A schoolboy crush on his best friend shouldn’t last longer than a few months, right?

Teary eyed, you reached up your arms to loop them around the nape of his neck. Brian ducked down a bit for you to get a better hold, letting you pull him closer to you.

“I love you, Bri,” you whispered.

He melted where he stood. Could it be?

“You’re the best friend I could ever imagine.”

Oh.

“God, what did I do to deserve you?”

The words rang through his ears.

“You came into my life,” Brian whispered back. “That’s all.”

--1973--

“And I think this would go nicely with that pair of velvets you own.” You could see that Brian was in a daze. “Well?”

He blinked slowly, bringing his drooping eyelids up halfway to look at you. “Hmm?”

“What do you think?”

He was brought back into the present.

“Oh, I think it’s great.” He wasn’t even sure what “it” was.

You beamed. “Good! Now, Roger’s trying some stuff on. You should go join him in the back.” You unloaded the items from your arms and transferred them to Brian. Then you pointed his shoulders in the right direction.

Brian marched to the fitting rooms, finding a half naked Roger flexing in a mirror. Brian stopped in his tracks, but Roger was unfazed.

“Whaddya think?” He posed, showing off the obnoxious pants he was wearing, paired with nothing but a fringed vest.

Brian raised an eyebrow. “Did Fred pick that out for you?”

“No,” Roger continued staring at his reflection. “This is all me.”

“Ah. Makes sense.” Brian scoffed as he pushed past the blond and drew the curtain to the dressing area. Roger came in behind him, not caring that it was meant to be a personal space.

“What’s the matter with you?”

“Well, for starters, you’re in my fitting room.” Brian frowned.

“Oh, don’t start that with me.” Roger pointed a finger at Brian. “You’ve been moody all day.”

Brian snorted at the remark. “I could say the same about you!”

Roger stared at his friend with dispassion. Then something dawned on him. “Brian?”

The guitarist fell silent.

“Did you and Y/N get in a fight or somethin’?”

“No. We didn’t fight.”

Roger had a thought, but dismissed it with laughter. Brian’s scowl hardened, making Roger feel required to say it aloud. “Sorry, mate, I was just thinkin’ you were too angry to have fucked.” Brian’s nose twitched. Roger stopped laughing. “Did you and Y/N fuck?” His voice was at a much lower pitch.

“No,” Brian growled through gritted teeth. “It’s not like that between us. You know that.”

Roger had a gleam in his eye. “But do you want it to be?” Brian’s expression softened, giving him all the confirmation he needed.

“Not exactly.” Brian confided, shifting uncomfortably in the small stall made for one person.

“Then what exactly?”

Brian’s heart was pounding. In twelve years, he had only told one person what he was about to tell Roger.

* * *

Roger stood silent for a moment, taking in what he just heard.

“Twelve years?”

Brian blushed, bashful from the level of vulnerability he had reached with his bandmate.

“Twelve bloody years? Why haven’t you ever made a move?”

“I never seemed right. We were too young. Then she was with somebody. Then she moved away for five years. When would I have done anything?”

Roger was frustrated by his friend’s stupidity. “You’ve wasted a monumental about of time failing to do anything.”

Brian sighed. “I’ve never had the courage. And then I find out you’ve kissed her. Doesn’t she mean something to you, too?” He didn’t even want to think about John.

“Of course Y/N does. She means a great deal to me, but not like that. It was one moment. You’ve had a lifetime of moments.” Roger paused. “You love her, yeah?”

“Irretrievably.”

“Then do something about it.”

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