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t-0ne25 · 6 months

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“I can’t sleep until I feel your touch.” — Option B1.1: Amethyst

[Make sure to please read Chapter 25 of Red Lights first, before you continue.]

As soon as you take another glimpse at the amethyst necklace again, you get thrown back to last afternoon. The purple dress. How he told you about his feelings. The kiss the two of you shared. Nothing comes close to that moment you had together. Fuck. You could have and should have realised so much sooner.

He was the first one you chose on this show, so he for sure will be your choice in the end, too. You head towards the cash desk, bringing the amethyst jewellery with you.

“This one, please,” you tell Lia while reaching for your wallet.

“The colour suits you,” she compliments you, while letting you pay and carefully putting the necklace into a small paper bag.

“Chan said the same,” you say, not really thinking about it.

Lia chuckles, “Are you guys finally a couple?”

“W-What?”

She rolls her eyes, finding it adorable that you don’t quite catch what she means, “Come on, when you entered the store with that bridal attire I thought you were running away from a spontaneous wedding into the arms of Chan. You’ve always had this certain chemistry that you usually only see in movies.”

Is this a sign? This is for sure a sign, right?

You grab the paper bag and put your wallet back into your purse.

“You’re right. I have to go, thank you, Lia.”

Rushing out the store, you almost stumble over your own feet and the ridiculously long white dress.

“Uhm, yeah sure, have a nice day!”

Half an hour later, you find yourself at the company Chan works at, knowing he will be there. Your expectations turn out to be true, when one of the assistants allows you entrance. Opening the door to his studio, you see him inside of it, big headphones covering his ears.

Still, he notices your presence, as he lays them aside, “Y/N… is everything alright? Why are you here?”

“You’re gonna be a lucky husband one day, Chan,” you boldy announce.

He looks at you confused, “What do you mean?”

“As long as you make me your wife, of course,” you add, shrugging your shoulders.

Chan gets up from his seat, shaking his head in disbelief. Long strides bring him closer to you. He’s a little puzzled why you’re in a wedding dress but he guesses it must be because of the show. Shit—did you really come to the studio right after quitting? You didn’t stay there till the end, right? It’s way too early for that. You were supposed to come back to Seoul tomorrow.

“Are you playing with me?” he asks, blinking twice.

“I would never, baby,” you reply, tilting your head.

His mouth falls agape, “Fuck… How… Why?”

“I made the wrong decision,” you admit. “I shouldn’t have let you go. No, screw that—I shouldn’t have said some shit like ‘what happens in Vegas stays in Vegas’ when our moment hasn’t left my heart since then.”

A bright smile appears on his face, when he listens to your words, simultaneously pulling you closer as he grabs you by the hips.

“We’re idiots, aren’t we?”

“Absolute idiots,” you giggle. Your eyes flicker down to his lips and his gaze does the same with yours. “Just kiss me, Christopher.”

His mouth crashes into your own then, when he starts kissing you. A thousand fireworks are shooting through your veins, when he’s with you like this. You wonder if you would have made different decisions if you allowed him to kiss you that night in Vegas, but this doesn’t matter now anymore. All that counts is that you’re together with him.

“It’s always been you, baby, all this time,” Chan says in between kisses. He guides you towards the sofa inside his studio, before he sinks down and pulls you with him. You land on his lap, your lips staying connected with his throughout all time.

“It’s always been you, too, even before that night,” you confess.

“If that stupid red car appeared at the first try, you’d already be my spouse, hm?”

You keep kissing him, when he has you in his hold like that. It feels good to be with him. It feels as if it’s meant to be, after all.

“We’ve got all time now, baby,” you reassure him.

Chan adores it when you use that pet name for him—it makes his heart melt and his knees all wobbly. Although, you manage to have that effect on him at all times, really.

He suddenly changes the course, when he picks you up by the hips and lays you onto the couch. Now hovering above you, his lips travel further down. The irony that you’re wearing what looks like a fucking wedding dress, is insane. When Chan pulls the fabric over your head, revealing the red lingerie underneath, another thing gets spotted by his eyes.

“Is that an amethyst?” he asks.

You giggle, placing the gemstone between two of your fingers, “Hm, same colour as the dress you chose for me.”

“You’re insane,” he lets out, once again in disbelief. This all feels like a dream except for the fact that it isn’t. It’s all real.

“Insane for you, yes,” you chuckle.

Chan helps you out of your bra next, before he hovers his black sweater over his head. The contrast is almost hilarious—the elegant white dress that’s by now discarded somewhere on the floor and his simple but comfy clothes on top of it.

His kisses enlighten on your skin again and he wanders further south, brushing over your breasts, taking one of your sensitive buds into his mouth, while the other one is pinched between his fingers.

“Let me get a taste of you, yeah? How’s that sound, babygirl?” he asks.

“Fucking perfect,” you reply, parting your legs for him.

“Make yourself comfortable, hm?”

You nod, as you allow him to take your panties off of you. A whiff of your scents enters his nostrils and he feels himself drooling at the thought of finally having you under him like this. Oh, how much he wanted to eat you out that night. Do even more. And start right again when the two of you woke up the next day.

His fingers spread your pussy lips apart, giving his tongue better access to your clit. A string of saliva hits you, although this isn’t even necessary—you’re already drenched for him, absolutely soaking wet because he’s so close to you.

The kitten licks soon turn into Chan making out with your pussy, as two of his fingers gently push into your hole, all effortlessly. He stretches you out perfectly, scissoring you open. Shit—you’re not gonna last long, that’s for sure. You should have done this back then, should have waited for another stupid red car to drive around the corner and then spread your legs for your best friend in that hotel in Vegas.

When Chan curls his fingers unexpectedly, you already envision yourself seeing stars very soon and when a few more encouraging words leave his lips, you cum all over him, coating his fingers and tongue in your juices. Your best friend helps you through your high, before he takes his time to lick both your pussy and his fingers clean.

“That was… unbelievable,” you say in between heavy breaths, trying to calm down a little.

A gentle kiss gets placed on top of your forehead, before you watch Chan walk towards his backpack that’s at the other side of his room.

“What are you doing?” you ask, balancing yourself on your elbows.

“Grabbing a condom,” he lets you know.

You gulp, “Uhm… you know, we don’t have to use one. I’m on the pill.”

Chan knows you’re on birth control. He’s your best friend and usually has to remind you to take it on time thanks to how forgetful you can get, especially when being stressed. But this is insane. The fact you’re gonna let him fuck you raw, lets him fear that he might just cum in his pants.

“Alright then,” he says, before letting the wrapper fall somewhere on the ground, out of sight now. You chuckle because of his excitement, waiting for him to come back.

“Chan…” you whisper, while he’s busy getting rid of the rest of his clothes.

“Yeah, baby?” he asks, back on the couch now.

“I need you… so much…”

“Sure, darling,” he chuckles. “Can you turn around for me?”

You do as you’re told, getting on all fours for him. Chan places a pillow between your head and the armrest for a little bit of comfort, before he aligns his hard cock with your entrance. He pushes himself inside, centimetre after centimetre. Due to his size, you’re glad he’s prepared you so well.

Chan starts with slow movements but once he hears you moaning his name, drooling all over the soft cushion underneath, he picks up his pace a little. One of his hands is placed on your ass cheek, spanking you whenever you clench around him. The other one is at your neck, keeping you in the position he wants you in.

“Fuck– Chan–“ is all you’re able to let out. His hand wanders away from your ass, sneaking between your legs from the front instead—he starts playing with your clit, chuckling right into your ear, when he feels you get closer so soon again.

“Come on, be a good girl and give me another one,” he whispers.

“Chan– I can’t it’s–“ your body feels possessed by the sensations he’s giving you.

“Oh, you can. I know you can, darling,” he encourages you, while fucking ever deeper into you, railing you into oblivion.

You hastily nod, “Yes– okay, God, right there, please, please, please–“

A few seconds later, your second orgasm takes over you. You drown out your noises, when you scream right into the pillow. Chan has different plans, though, when he slowly pulls you away from it, wanting to listen to your sinful noises.

“Let me hear you, baby.”

He helps you through your high, feeling himself getting closer. Your name slips from his lips like a mantra, before he pulls out of you and his seeds land on your ass and lower back. He is quick to bring an old shirt to clean you, before he hands you some fresh clothes that he has at the studio as well as a bottle of water.

“Uhm… the… the microphone was still on,” Chan says, when he takes a look at all the equipment, seeing a little red light blinking.

“I think we’re used to that by now. Feel free to use it for one of your songs,” you tell him.

He’s gonna faint anytime soon, if you keep going like this.

“God, you’re the best thing that has ever happened to me.” Chan slips into his clothes, too. “Let me turn all the devices off and then I’ll take you out for a date, okay?”

“Okay.”

⬅️ GO BACK TO LEAVE FEEDBACK

#RL options — 💻#option B1.1: amethyst 💜

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angryschnauzer · 2 years

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Path to Heaven

Summary: You’re down to your last few dollars after trying to make it big in Hollywood and Vegas, finally realising you need to head home. But you need money for the bus fare, and a small card in the casino ladies room offered enough money for something you’d never considered doing. Little do you know the person behind the camera is one of Vegas’s high rollers.

Pairing: Vegas Mobster Chris Evans x Female Reader (no size or race mentioned)

Warnings: 18+, NSFW, Amateur Porn, Masturbation, Sex Toys/vibrators, Oral Sex (Female Receiving).

Word count: 2601

I do not run a tag list, but if you follow @angryschnauzerwrites and put that blog onto notifications, you’ll get an alert every time i post something new.

My new for 2022 Chris Evans masterlist can be found HERE

Path to Heaven

Fiddling with the scrap of paper you checked the address one last time. ‘Sunset Motel 8pm, meet outside the snack bar’. Your stomach grumbled and you were painfully aware you’d barely eaten for the whole day, the scent of the greasy fried food coming from inside cementing in stone you needed to do this gig.

You’d travelled to LA with dreams of being a star, but as your savings had dwindled and too many gigs being for exposure you’d moved onto Las Vegas and the idea of being a dancer. Sure you’d danced in school, you’d even been on the cheer and gymnastics squad for a while so had the skill and balance, but when clubs and shows hadn’t been hiring and call after call had been a rejection you’d decided it was time to go home. But you were now at the point of needing the bus fare, so desperate times called for desperate measures. A small card pinned to the mirror of the dancers ladies room in the last casino had given you all the information you’d needed, and a quick call later the man with the heavy East Coast accent had explained what the job was and how much you’d get.

So this is how you found yourself standing outside a seedy motel at dusk, the lights of the famous Vegas strip a long way off.

“Hey, are you Angel?”

The thick accent from which enquired your ‘stage’ name caused you to turn, and you were slightly taken aback by who you saw. Expecting some seedy fat balding guy in a fedora, what you were greeted by was a bearded god, his patterned shirt undone but tucked into his black dress pants, a pristine white white-beater tee underneath giving a teasing glimpse of tattoos on his chest and shoulders. Even in the neon light you could pick up a hint of grey in his beard telling you he was definitely at the end of his thirties rather than the start.

“Angel?” he enquired again, doubting himself for a moment, but you nodded your head and his expression softened. Holding out his arm he gently tucked it around your shoulders as he started to steer you away from the well lit safety of the front of the motel to the secluded darkness of the exposed hallways; “Well, i’m Chris. I know we discussed everything on the phone, but i wanted to let you know you can duck out at any time, no hard feelings”

“O-okay”

“You ever done this before?” You shook your head and he continued; “Well, i’m gonna let you check out the room, there’s some stuff for you to change into, you can do your hair and makeup in the bathroom whilst i set the camera up. It’s just you and the toys, they’re all new and sealed, you just pick which one you’d like to use. Once you’ve cum you get paid, straight cash.”

“O-okay”

Your stomach was doing little flips. Was this worth it? He could be a serial killer, you could end up the subject of a Netflix true crime unsolved case for all you knew. But how else would you get the money to get home.

Home. Not that there was anything nice waiting for you. Family that had been glad to see the back of you, a town with no prospects. If you were honest with yourself getting chopped to pieces by an attractive serial killer actually appealed compared to going home.

“Here we are”

Chris opened the door and let you step inside. The room was dark pink and had a lot of velvet in its decor. A mirrored disco ball span very slowly from the ceiling, letting the light scatter over the room.

“Oh, this is nicer than i was expecting”

Chris just chuckled quietly as he crossed the room, before handing you a small bag;

“I’ll set the camera up whilst you get ready”

The nerves were back. Swallowing the lump in your throat you nodded and headed to the bathroom. Once inside the fluorescent light was harsh, but you quickly fixed your hair and makeup before pulling on the ‘outfit’ that’d been supplied. Thigh high socks and a barely there string pantie set, tiny lace bra where most of your tits were exposed. You tugged at the lace and tried your best to keep your nipples covered in a vain attempt at decency, but for what point you had no idea. The butterflies were back in your stomach, quickly taking a drink from the tap before taking one final deep breath and stepping out of the room.

You were surprised to find Chris standing outside the door, jumping back a little as you were startled by him, before looking down at his hands and seeing he was holding a small selection of dildo’s and vibrators;

“You pick which one you want”

As if picking a piece of fruit from a buffet you quickly looked over the choices, slightly concerned at the size of some of them, before settling on a bright pink vibrating wand with a slight curve.

“Get settled on the bed, take it at your own pace. I’ll be here behind the camera, i can give you pointers and we can edit the sound out later or put music over the top”

Climbing onto the big bed you settled at the pillows, before Chris quietly laughed;

“No, you’re gonna have to come closer to the camera”

He leant over the bed and grabbed your ankles, gently but firmly pulling you across the soft bedcover until your ass was on the end of the mattress. Did it feel good to have his hands wrapped around your ankles? Absolutely. Were you starting to relax for the first time in god knows how long? Almost. What you couldn’t get out of your mind was how good it felt to have him touch you.

Settling your feet on the low ottoman at the end of the bed,you tugged some cushions and pillows behind you to rest against before Chris nodded and confirmed the camera was rolling.

Staring into the distance you started to run your hands down your body, realising your tits had popped out of your bralette but letting the anticipation of the event pebble your nipples, finding them hard as you ran your palms over them. Letting your hands go lower you smoothed them over your soft stomach before parting your legs and rubbed over your barely covered core. Getting lost in the moment you let your head fall back, enjoying the feel of your own touch. It had been weeks since you’d touched yourself, the stress and exhaustion of your life had meant you’d all but forgotten about self pleasure. Yet your fingers never forgot, they knew the path to heaven and without realising you’d tugged your panties to the side and had started to tease your lips. You could feel the wetness start to grow, your juices coating your fingers when you heard Chris’s low whisper;

“Good, now start to use the vibe”

You’d almost forgotten he was there, opening your eyes and trying not to act surprised or to throw yourself from the flow. Grasping the long pink vibe you pressed the button but was wholly unprepared as it sprang into life;

“OH FUCK!” you cried out as it swung about wildly like an eel out of water before you dropped it on the bed. Scrambling to grab it you finally caught up with it as it tried to escape to the floor, before kneeling at the far side of the bed. Taking a deep breath you let it out slowly before turning to Chris; “Sorry about that”

He stood beside the camera, his knuckles on his lips as he tried to hide his amusement;

“No, no, it’s fine, they get away from all of us occasionally… unpredictable little things”

As you climbed back across the bed you nodded;

“Well this one is quite big actually”

He fiddled with the camera to start rolling again;

“Oh, its no smaller than i…” his quiet admission trailed off and you pretended you hadn't heard, but now you were curious.

Settling back on the cushions you switched the vibe on again before changing the settings, finding a speed and movement that seemed appealing before you started to get back into the moment.

But the mood of the room had changed. You were hyper focused on your task, yet the vibe seemed to be having no effect. Sure you were getting wetter, and as you traced your entrance with the smooth round tip you could feel it start to slide in with ease, but it didn’t increase your pleasure. Moving your other hand to your clit you strummed at the nub, working your fingertip over it in tight circles, whilst pumping the vibe in and out of your velvet walls, yet you seemed to get no further. You tried, seconds turned to minutes, but your pleasure never built. Eventually you pulled the vibe out with a disgruntled groan and flopped back onto the bed;

“Can we take a break?”

You heard Chris switch the camera off before the bed dipped. Peering out of one eye you saw he was sat on the end of the bed;

“Listen, Angel, are you ok?”

You let out a long sigh, staring at the ceiling;

“Yeah. No. I don’t know. I just can’t… ya know… cum… Got a lot on my mind and it just doesn’t want to happen”

“If you want we can call it quits. I’ll pay you half even though we didn’t get much footage”

“No no no, i can do it, even if i have to fake it. I need the whole amount for my ticket home, i’ve got nothing right now”

“Home?”

You sat up, drawing your knees to your chest and wrapping your arms around them;

“Yeah. Finally calling it quits. Failed in Hollywood, failed in Vegas. Time to head back to the people that don’t like me but will give me a roof over my head” you took a deep breath; “So yeah, let's do this…”

You felt Chris get up and could hear him setting the camera up to record again;

“Okay… action”

Lying back on the pillows you traced around your labia with the vibe, letting it buzz against your clit before moving it down and sliding it into your now soaked entrance. The fingers of your other hand splayed open your folds whilst your middle finger tried to work its magic again, working tried and tested circles. But yet again it was to no avail. It just wasn’t happening. With a grunt of frustration you let your legs go limp as you flung your arms back, one arm across your face;

“Fuck”

Whatever you were expecting next, it wasn’t the touch of a large hand against your thigh. Your head snapped up and you saw Chris kneeling on the floor in front of you;

“You just need to relax. I can help…”

“Yes” you interrupted him.

He laughed quietly, the puff of warm air a pleasant surprise on your skin as he moved closer. You watched - mesmerised by his proximity - as he firmly grasped the vibe and pulled it free, switching it off and setting it on the floor. Pressing the palms of his hands to your inner thighs, he pushed your legs obscenely wide open, hooking the lace of your panties over one of his thumbs;

“You have one of the prettiest pussies i’ve ever seen”

The thumb of his other hand gently ran over the seam of your core as he doused it in your essence, before he moved it up to your clit and started to rub the pad of it against the sensitive pearl. On a particular pattern of swirls your cried out his name, your body shuddering as the tell tale coil of pleasure rekindled within you.

“That’s it, that’s my girl, does it feel good when i play with this pussy? You look so damn delicious…”

“Please… Please Chris”

You watched, wide eyed in wonder as he pushed his face forwards and those plump lips pressed a kiss to your pearl, before an incredibly wide and juicy tongue lapped a thick line up through your folds. He hummed against you as his thumb started to rub at your clit again and his tongue lapped at your entrance, his beard rubbing against your soft skin.

“Taste so good, such good pussy”

You couldn’t help yourself as your hand reached out and grasped at his soft brown hair, guiding his mouth against you as you felt his tongue flex inside you. Your orgasm was rapidly approaching and you couldn’t help but to wriggle and fidget on the bed, grinding yourself against Chris’s mouth as he tongue fucked you like a man starved.

“Oh fuck i’m gonna cum”

“That’s it baby, come on my tongue”

Pushing his tongue even further into you it was the trigger to allow your release to take over, shaking as you cried out his name. Your orgasm washed over you like a wave of pleasure, ridding your mind of worries and anxiety, just the bright white light of euphoria coursing through your veins. Nothing else in that moment mattered, for those thirty seconds you were free and you’d found your path to heaven, or at least, Chris had.

When the buzz started to wear off you realised you were laid back on the bed, Chris moving around packing away the camera. Sitting bolt upright you panicked;

“What? We haven’t filmed! I need that money!”

He nodded to the bed;

“Beside you. In fact i’ve doubled it” he stopped and walked over to you, sitting on the bed; “I want to make you an offer”

“What kind of offer?”

“A job”

“Listen, i’m not a hooker, i just needed the cash to get home… i never even wanted to do the porn…” you were on your feet and grabbing for your clothing as Chris stood.

“No, nothing like that”

Pausing with one leg in your denim shorts; “Oh”

“I have a couple of businesses. Legitimate, well, mostly legitimate businesses; Bars, motels, a small casino. If you can fix drinks then i need someone in our VIP lounge bar tomorrow”

“Oh… I guess… yeah, that sounds good. I can find a room somewhere…”

“I’ll get you a room at the casino”

You watched whilst you finished getting dress as Chris packed things up, before the pair of you left the room and Chris walked you to his car. The vintage muscle car was pristine, smooth 1970s lines and an engine that roared and sent a shiver through your spine as you sat in the passenger seat. He rested a hand on your thigh and patted it;

“Don’t worry Angel, I’ll take good care of you now”

Cruising along the Vegas Strip you looked out at the bright lights, and for the first time enjoyed the view. Things were looking up. As you pulled up to one of the larger Casino’s you finally felt the synapses in your brain connect; Chris, Casino, ‘mostly legitimate’...

“Oh fuck”

“What’s the matter Angel?”

“You’re Chris Evans”

“You just figured that out?!” he chuckled as traffic moved slowly in the valet line for the ‘The Tea Party’ Casino. He rested his hand on your thigh again; “Is this gonna be a problem?”

You shook your head;

“No. It’s fine… it’s fine…”

“Good girl”

And that was how you found yourself working for one of Vegas’s biggest mobsters.

#Chris Evans #chris evans x reader #chris evans smut #chris evans fanfic #chris evans x you #mobster chris evans

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chalkrevelations · 2 years

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HOW WE FEELING VEGASPETE NATION?

Because can I tell you? CAN I TELL YOU?

It’s like someone cooked up all the rest of the coke in that warehouse from Ep 7 and then shot it straight into my veins. Someone is going to have to come to my house and peel me off the ceiling.

LISTEN. On April 16, close enough to my birthday that it makes no difference, like the universe said, “Here, have something gorgeous to make up for the absolute shitshow of the last two years,” I was scrolling the kinnporsche tag and saw the “consume you” trailer. And I waited patiently. And then on April 21, I saw a biblebuild post, the one with Build’s sly little glance up at Bible in between his adorable little peace signs, and I had an inkling that I might be in trouble. And I waited patiently. And then Pete kicked the shit out of a guy, my beautiful new best beloved exposing that shroud of grey he keeps himself wrapped in and imprinting himself on my brain, and then Vegas got head-butted by Porsche and went home to have an orgasm and a cigarette in his freaky-deaky dungeon, and on May 8, I posted my first defense of Vegas, because I stanned Chris Keller, do you think I’m afraid of Vegas Theerapanyakul? And I WAITED PATIENTLY. And then they released the WDYS MV, with Pete’s vulnerable wrists like a glimpse of a Victorian ankle, which was a personal attack on me personally, and I continued to WAIT PATIENTLY. And then on May 14, I officially planted my Vegaspete Nation flag, and since then, through weeks of Vegaspete manic street preaching, I have kept the faith, and I have kept the faith, and I have kept the faith, and NOW. NOW, after so much giving, I continue to receive.

I CANNOT BELIEVE the payoff they gave me in this episode. From Vegas’s declaration to Porsche - not even three minutes in - when he’s also the softest and most gorgeous he’s ever looked, and therefore still Pete’s Vegas even though Porsche is the one looking at him; to Vegas’s declaration to Pete not just of love but that it would be worth it to die by Pete’s hand and the way he reached out to touch Pete’s face with his own bloody hand to kiss him in the softest iteration of that tableau we’ve seen yet; to Pete walking away from the main family with his bloody wings painted on the back of his shirt because he chose Vegas, lost his wings to fall, willingly, by choice; to Pete’s anguished pleas for Vegas to turn around and see him, the way Vegas has seen him in the past, the way no one else has ever ever seen him; to the way that I knew, I knew never to doubt Pete for an instant in this episode, no matter what his actions were, because of the way the lighting and framing and filters and styling all gave us the extra-gorgeous version of Build that we’ve only ever gotten when we’re looking at Vegas’s Pete, from the very first moment we see Pete in this episode and all the way through to the end, and the way Pete proved that to me by shooting down the person who shot Vegas without thought, without even looking at them, without even caring about who it was, and the way the narrative never pays the slightest bit of attention to who it was, as if to emphasize that no one has any importance to Pete other than Vegas; to the way Vegas - despite Pete being willing to metaphorically put that handcuff back on if that’s what it took to get through to Vegas - the way Vegas was finally finally able to metaphorically unlock it.

I am going to buy an airplane ticket to Thailand ... and y’all gotta understand how much I hate to fly, how absofuckinglutely relieved my partner was when we finally got all the family moved within driving distance so he could STOP worrying that I was gonna be hauled off by TSA and strip-searched for muttering darkly about the 4th Amendment and Security Theater every time we had to fly somewhere for a family visit ... ANYWAY, I’m going to buy an airplane ticket to Thailand, and I’m gonna go kiss everyone at BOC. WITH TONGUE.

Be On Cloud, BOX SET WHEN?

#i'm sure there will be more later #but i just #:flaps hands weakly:#i gotta go watch all the vegaspete stuff again #and again #and yet again #vegas theerapanyakul #pete phongsakorn #MY BELOVEDS #vegaspete #kinnporsche #how we feeling vegaspete nation?#are we winning?#BECAUSE I THINK WE'RE WINNING #liveblogging ep 14 i guess

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stormyoceans · 2 years

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the way i just KNOW that the moment vegas is gonna see pete - like really SEE him - he's gonna become obsessed with him

#pete is nice. pete is caring. pete can be the funny little guy who's friendly and not intimidating at all #and he can play into that role so well #'make yourself look dumb and innocuous don't let them notice you'#but pete is also observant and calculating and can read people better than anyone #and violence doesn't phase him #there's something dark lurking under pete's surface #and the moment vegas is going to get a glimpse of it he's never gonna be able to look away #they're both never going to be able to escape from each other and suddenly im so here for that #did not expect to come out of this episode with vegaspete feelings but here fucking are i guess #fucked up pairings are okay when they're about two consensual and equally fucked up people actually #kinnporsche #kinnporsche the series #vegaspete #m: txt

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futures-tense · 3 years

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We’ll Find Out What We’re Made Of

//~1.2k//tw: shooting mention, arson mention, spoilers for 4x13 of 911 and 2x12 of ls//

Buck needs to talk to someone. He wishes it could be Eddie. But, at the moment, his best friend is in surgery and all Buck can do is pace around his living room. Christopher isn’t home yet- he’s spending the day with Abuela and Pepa- leaving Buck at the mercy of the suffocating silence. He pulls out his phone and calls the first person who comes to mind, putting it on speaker and placing it on the coffee table.

“Buck, hey!” TK says. The excitement in his words are the exact opposite of what Buck’s feelings.

“Hey... Um, are-are you busy?”

“Lucky for you, Carlos is out and I’m on... a bit of a vacation. So no; what’s up?”

Buck lowers himself onto the couch. “Something... I just need a distraction.”

This time when TK speaks he seems a little further away which probably means he’s on speaker. “What happened?”

“Is someone else there?”

“Just me, Buck.”

Buck scrubs his hand over his eyes, lets out a breath. He doesn’t know why he’s telling TK this; they’ve only known each other a few months. But they’d talked almost every day since the wildfires and he trusted him- not as much as he trusted Eddie but close enough to-

“Eddie got shot.”

“What?”

“How’s Carlos?”

“He’s fine,” TK says vaguely. “Go back; Is Eddie okay? Are you okay?”

Buck tugs at a loose string of the hoodie Bobby had brought him at the hospital. He catches a glimpse of red caked at his cuticle and he thinks he might cry.

“Buck.”

“He’s... He’s in surgery. I dunno, I’m not family.”

“What about you?”

“I need a distraction,” he says matter of factly. “How are you? You moved into Carlos’s last month, right? How’s that been?”

“Good, good,” TK says, a little too quick but Buck looks past it. “Things have been...exciting.”

“Gross,” Buck teases and TK laughs.

“Not like that! Well, actually...”

“Anyway.”

Buck hears TK giggle softly. “You remember how I said that when we got Buttercup, he would only go after my stuff?”

“Mhm?”

“Yeah, he has a new victim.”

“Oh no.”

“Yup, he likes to chew on Carlos’s shoes now.” He sounds almost proud and Buck shakes his head.

“You must be so relieved,” he says sarcastically.

“It is cute to see my intimidating boyfriend pout about having to get rid of a shirt that was barely surviving anyway.” That makes Buck laugh and he instantly feels guilty. “I mean, we needed to buy him a bunch of new clothes anyway,” TK adds the last part under his breath, and Buck files it away to ask about later.

“Wait- so, your dad let you take Buttercup with you when you moved out?”

TK doesn’t say anything for a few moments and Buck almost has to make sure the call didn't fail.

“That’s- not exactly, no,” TK finally says.

Buck makes a face even though TK can’t see him. “Then how does Buttercup get Carlos’s stuff?”

“We are currently...living in my dad’s guest room...”

Buck freezes. “But you just- you moved into Carlos’s.”

“Yes, I did,” TK starts. “But then...it sort of...burned down...”

He lets that sink in just to make sure he heard that right. “Your house burned down.”

“Yes.”

“TK, you may be a paramedic now but you were also a firefighter,” he jokes. “You should know fire safety.”

“Okay, first of all,” TK says, a playful bitterness in his voice, “rude. Second, it...wasn’t exactly our fault.”

“What happened?”

TK doesn’t say anything for a while. Buck knows he still there though; he keeps hearing a soft sniff now and then.

“There, um... There was an arsonist- AFD’s arson investigator, actually. He... He got in somehow and-”

TK’s voice breaks and Buck sighs. “Everyone’s okay?”

TK lets out a watery, bitter laugh. “No, not remotely.” Buck hears him take a shaky breath. “Uh, everyone’s still pretty shaken up after the firehouse explosion-“

“Wait, what?”

“Oh yeah, the arsonist blew up the firehouse, too. And then everything with Carlos and me... Marjan’s been struggling too, but...”

“She’s Marjan?”

TK sighs. “It’s not fair. The stuff they’re saying. It’s- she was doing her job. There was nothing she could have done. And she’s not really talking to us about it. None of us know how to help.”

Buck thought of all the calls that hadn’t gone his way. “I get it. She just needed someone to blame.”

“I hate that it had to be Marjan.”

“Me too.”

“And Dad, he-“ TK scoffs. “God, Buck, everything is a mess; I’m not sure if I’m the best distraction right now.”

“Don’t worry about it, TK,” Buck says. “Sounds like I’m not the only one who needed to talk.”

“Yeah...” He sounds exhausted and Buck wishes he could do more.

“You’re still good with Mr. Perfect, right?”

TK lets out a laugh. “You’re still pining after Super Dad, right?”

Buck’s smile fades and TK curses on the other end, realizing his mistake without Buck’s help.

“Sorry, I-“

“It’s fine. You’re fine.”

They sit in silence for a while. “I think...” TK stops, evaluates, then starts again. “I think, you should tell him.”

“Remember what happened last time you told me that?”

TK thinks for a moment then gasps. “Oh my god, I forgot about her.”

Buck rolls his eyes. He pulls at that string again and the cuff of his sleeve tightens around his wrist.

“I haven’t told her. About Eddie.” Then something else hits him. “Oh my god...”

“What?”

“Chris...”

“He doesn’t know yet?” Buck covers his face and shakes his head. Almost like he can see him, TK makes a disapproving noise. “No, Buck, you have to tell him. That’s his dad, you need to tell him.”

“But does it have to be me?” Buck asks. “I don’t... I could- I could tell Ana and she could tell him.”

“Buck, he won’t want to hear it from her,” TK insists. “You know that; hell, I know that and I’ve never met either of them.”

Buck knew he was right but-

“I had to tell Eddie that I lost Chris in a tsunami.” TK doesn’t respond. “I stood there and I had to tell my best friend that his son was gone. I don’t... I don’t think I can do something like that again...”

“I know, Buck, I know, but-“ Buck hears a door open and TK mumbles something before continuing. “Buck, you have to tell him.”

“I will, I will,” he sighs. “I have to go pick him up soon anyway.”

“Hey, Buck?” He makes a face. That isn’t TK. “I’m so sorry but- can I steal TK?”

Buck smiles a little. “He’s your boyfriend, Carlos.”

“That is true,” Carlos says. “Babe, it’s the Vegas.”

There’s a weighted silence that Buck knows all too well.

“TK, I’m gonna go. Keep me updated.”

“Yeah, of course,” TK says, sounding distracted. “Just- Tell him. Both of them.”

Buck nods. “I know, I will.”

“Bye, Buck.”

TK is the first to hang up and Buck sits back against the couch, wondering how the fuck he’s going to explain all of this to Christopher.

#911 ls spoilers #911 spoilers #911 lone star #tk strand #911 on fox #my fics #911 crossover #evan buckley #✨trauma buddys✨#tarlos #carlos reyes #4x13 coda #?? yes???#sure why not #festival of tears

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lunarliza · 4 years

Text

Fake Boyfriend | Chapter 1: Two Truths and a Big Fat Lie

JJ x Kook!reader Series

You’re a Kook Princess who has everything you ever wanted... until your handsome Kook Prince dumps you for a hot new fling. To save your reputation, you bribe the one person he hates the most, JJ Maybank, to pretend to be your boyfriend for the summer. All’s fair in love and war. But where do you draw that line when you’re suddenly wishing your fake boyfriend is your real one?

ahh yes, my third rendition of a fake dating/enemies to lovers story. this is just a short lil intro but i’m excited for this series!

“He did what?”

“Yup, broke up with me right over the phone,” you repeated to your hairstylist, Boris, who almost snipped off a chunk of your locks in utter shock.

“What a complete asshole!” Boris groused, clipping away at your dead ends, “What did you say after? Please tell me you told him off and slashed his tires or I have failed as a mentor.”

“Well I was so angry and shaken up I didn’t know what to say,” you pouted, “So I just said whatever and hung up.”

It had been a couple days since your nasty break up with your ex-boyfriend who blind-sided you and ended things out of nowhere. Needless to say, you were a cluttered mess and this was your favorite form of therapy: self care, a new hair color, and mindlessly ranting to Boris-- the one person on the island who would absolutely destroy anyone who did you wrong.

“Y/n!” he droned, “How are you gonna let him end a two year relationship and just say ‘whatever’? No, you need to get to slashing right after I fix you up or else you’ve missed your Carrie Underwood moment!”

You sighed. “I know I should’ve gone all psycho bitch on him, but I didn’t want it to seem like I care all that much! Besides,” you mumbled the next part, “he’s got a new girl already.”

The grown man nearly dropped his shears. “Already?! This just happened like two days ago!”

“I know,” you cringed, “My friends came over last night to investigate her Instagram. I think she’s their family friend or something. Word on the Eight is that she’s here for the summer from California and is staying at his house.”

Boris scoffed and tossed his finished scissors on the counter in frustration, starting up the curling iron. “So he dumped you after two years and dates someone else a day after?” he shook his head, “Unbelievable. He probably had her on the side when you guys were together too. Honey, you’re so much better off without him.”

“Yeah, you’re right!” you agreed cooly-- as if you weren’t bawling and moping over old camera roll pictures just minutes before pulling up to the salon.

Boris lightly blow dried your newly dyed hair while you admired it through the mirror. “I like this color a lot,” you commended, “I was a little iffy that it wouldn’t look right, but I knew you’d work your magic.”

Your freshly manicured hands played with the ends before Boris began curling the back strands.

“You deserve it, sweetie. Forget about that piece of trash and move on with your life! You have all summer to find a new beau,” he chimed, “Where are you going tonight again?”

“Just dinner with the girls. My friend Sarah’s dad got us reservations to Chalet Basque so we’ll definitely be treating ourselves.”

You giggled when he began doing fake French impressions of the servers. Leave it to him to lighten your mood during trying times. When he finished the last curl, he basked you in a hairspray that smelled like rosewater and spun you in the seat for the final ‘voila’ moment.

Boris never failed to make you feel like a full-on beauty queen during your weekly glam seshs.

As he undid the little cape around you, you spotted a familiar combo of tall dark and handsome waltz through the front door from the corner of your eye.

“Shit,” you cursed, a little louder than intended, and shielded your face, “It’s him! And he brought the girl!”

Boris’ eyes widened. “That’s her?” he yelled-whispered, eyeing the couple that just plopped down in the waiting area, “Oh you’re so much prettier.”

You smiled and covertly peeked over at them-- the island’s new supposed ‘power couple’. You almost hurled when you heard kids on the Eight were coining them that name.

There he sat, Max Vega, in all his preppy, muscular, Spanish-rooted glory. He was even wearing the expensive polo you got him last Christmas. Oh, he looked so cute with his jet black hair slightly slicked back with a single strand hanging on his forehead. Just the way you loved it.

Tucked under his arm was his new trophy girl. Her beach-waved blonde hair came all the way down to her perfectly shaped hips and her tan model legs draped across his while they watched some video together on his phone.

Your heart sank at the way he tapped her nose when he said something cute to her. The same way he used to do to you.

Before you could turn away, his chestnut eyes met yours and he stiffened. You hurriedly tried to avert your gaze, but saw him begin walking over to you through Boris’ giant mirror nonetheless.

“Y/n!” he greeted, coming up behind you.

“Max! Oh what a surprise!” you mimicked his fake seething enthusiasm, whipping around the chair.

“Yeah,” he scratched the back of his neck, “I didn’t think I’d run into you here.”

You held back a scoff. As if you hadn’t made weekly trips to the place to get your hair, nails, and eyebrows done since you were ten. You seriously wondered sometimes if you were truly in love him or if he was just pretty.

His girl stood a little behind him, clutching onto his toned arm like a shy little bunny. “Anyways,” he snaked his hand to the small of her back, “This is Anya. She’s my dad’s partner’s daughter from Huntington Beach and is staying in our guest house for the summer.”

The giant perky blonde straightened her back and held out her hand, that wasn’t wrapped around your ex-man, to you. “Hey girl! It’s so nice to meet one of Max’s friends!”

You heard Boris lightly gag in the background and had to suppress your impending laughter.

With all the willpower you could muster up, you rose from the chair and put on the most forced smile you have ever done. “I’m y/n, nice to meet you too.”

“So uh, you look nice,” Max noted at your elaborate hairdo, “What’s the occasion?”

“I-”

“She’s actually going on a date tonight,” Boris butted-in as-a-matter-of-factly. You whisked your head around to the man, giving him a frantic ‘wtf’ look.

Max wrinkled his brows. “Oh... well that’s nice. Who with?”

You racked your brain for a name. Any name.

Briefly, you glanced out the shop window and caught a glimpse of a trio skipping by outside. One of your friends, Kiara Carrera, linked arms with two of her best guy friends as they munched on ice cream cones from next door. Your eyes fixated on a certain blonde boy in a snapback and untucked black button up.

Bingo.

“Uh, it’s with JJ. JJ Maybank. You know him right?” you brought up slyly.

Your ex was definitely taken aback- especially at the mention of the one guy he despised most on the island. “Oh, what? W-Wow,” he sputtered, “I didn’t know you guys talked like that.”

“Yeah, I mean it just kind of happened. Sarah set us up,” you continued to fib, crossing your arms. You felt bad having to lie like that, but the look of pain and confusion on Max’s face almost made it worth it.

Almost.

Before he could pry any further, the nail technician called for Anya from the other side of the salon.

She cheered and bid you goodbye before yanking Max along with her to get their couple’s treatment. The same one he refused to get with you no matter how many times your begged. Who knew all it took was a leggy blonde with a butt thrice the size of yours to do the trick.

You sighed in relief once they disappeared to the pedicure station and smacked Boris’ arm. “What’d you do that for?! A date?! He had to know I was lying!”

“Ow!” he rubbed his tattooed arm, “Look, if he’s moving on, then you gotta act like you are too. Trust me, you’ll thank me later for this.”

----------------------------------------

note: lowkey basing the girl off of cher horowitz from clueless lmao. anyways chapter two to come

chapter two

#Outer Banks #outerbanks #outer banks imagine #outer banks fanfiction #obx fanfiction #obx imagine #jj obx #obx #sarah cameron #jj x reader #JJ Imagine #jj fanfiction #jj #jj maybank #jj maybank imagine #jj maybank x you #jj maybank fanfiction #jj maybank x y/n

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be11atrixthestrange · 3 years

Text

Waking Up In Vegas Chapter 8

After a night of debauchery, Ron and Hermione wake up in Vegas... married.

Muggle!AU. Romcom!Romione. Slow burning, smutty, angst-fest.

Rated M for reasons.

Ao3 | FFN

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More Chapters

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[Hermione]

Hermione resists the urge to look back to her table as she exits the bar. She really doesn't need to see Lavender in Ron's lap, her fingers in his hair… they broke up, and she has no right to attach herself to him like that. She tries to focus on what Lavender said — Ginny needs her. It is probably some wedding-related anxiety and Hermione can surely help with that… but why can't Lavender? With a groan, she forces the image of Lavender and Ron to the back of her mind and continues on her way to Ginny's hotel room.

Ginny's door opens after one knock, and an unexpectedly cheery bride emerges.

"Hermione? Hi!"

"Hi," says Hermione. "What's wrong?"

Looking confused, Ginny cracks the door wider to allow Hermione entry. "Nothing, why?"

"Nothing's wrong?" Flushing with anger, she takes a seat on Ginny's unmade bed. "Lavender just said you need me, and that it's urgent."

Ginny laughs. "Oh, you must have been with my brother."

"Well, yeah," stammers Hermione. "But only because we were working on wedding logistics and—"

"Relax, Hermione," says Ginny, laughing. "What else would you be doing? I'm just saying, Lavender probably said that so you'd leave her alone with Ron. Nothing to worry about."

"Oh, of course," says Hermione, her heart pounding. Nothing to worry about. "What did she want to talk to Ron about?" she asks, her voice taking an uncharacteristically high tone.

Ginny shrugs. "Dunno, probably trying to seduce him," her words trail off as she patters to the bathroom with her makeup bag. "She has this elaborate plan to get him to take her back before the wedding."

"Oh," says Hermione softly, hoping Ginny can't hear the dejection of her voice from the bathroom.

"Yeah," says Ginny, poking her head back into the bedroom. Her eyes are twinkling with the opportunity for gossip. "You're coming to the bar tonight, right? We're keeping it pretty low-key. Don't want to overdo it before the hen party tomorrow."

"Uh yeah, I guess I am," says Hermione, immediately wondering if Ron… or Lavender will be there.

"Lavender probably won't be around tonight, if that gets you more excited to come," adds Ginny, aware of the hesitation in Hermione's voice. "She's gonna cling to my brother all night. She's so paranoid that he's sleeping with someone else."

"Someone else?" said Hermione, a little too shrilly. "They still sleep together?"

"Look at you, gossiping! I must be rubbing off on you," says Ginny proudly. "But yeah, they still sleep together all the time. Honestly, I wouldn't be surprised if he took her back. He doesn't exactly have a lot of game," she pauses, contorting her face to apply a coat of mascara. "He's a good guy, don't get me wrong, but it's really just a confidence issue. Lavender makes him feel good about himself."

Hermione's breath hitches and her hands cramp, drawing her awareness to her vicious grip on Ginny's comforter. She releases her fingers, leaving sweaty palm prints on the blanket. Cute.

Her panic is still growing. Ron and Lavender still sleep together, and now she's with him at the bar. She's probably still in his lap with her mischievous fingers in his hair, and is he going to be able to resist her advances?

A knot in her stomach reminds Hermione that unfortunately, he has no good reason to turn her down. They said just as much at the bar: Ron and Hermione are married without the benefits. He's only human if he wants to find those benefits elsewhere.

She knows she could offer up some benefits, but there's one problem: Hermione's not one to have sex with someone she barely knows — regardless of what may or may not have happened the previous night. She can't just set aside that precedent simply to prevent someone else from sleeping with Ron. She has self-respect.

She closes her eyes and recalls Ron's hand gripping her lower back when he pressed his lips against hers. That kiss on the bridge was epically perfect, and the idea of Lavender getting to experience it regularly makes her sick.

According to Ginny, 'Lavender makes him feel good about himself.' She can make him feel good about himself too...

"What's up? You look like you've seen a ghost," says Ginny, emerging from the bathroom with a perfectly made-up face, and a sexy black skirt and crop top combination that could make Harry a target of some lonely boy's jealous rage. Seriously, with that outfit, Harry should hire a security detail.

Hermione shakes her head to erase any telling expressions from her face. "When's the last time they slept together?"

"Um," says Ginny, stopping in her tracks. She looks confused and slightly suspicious. "I think they did the night we arrived in Vegas, but I'm not sure. I know Harry thought so. He keeps telling him to stop sleeping with her because he's just leading her on, but he's not exactly hard to convince, you know? He takes what he can get."

Hermione averts her eyes, which are now stinging with tears. "Do you think they'll get back together?" she asks, her voice cracking.

"Maybe. If they do, I don't think it'll be for long. It never is." Ginny takes one more scan of her outfit, adjusting her top in the mirror. "I'm ready to go! Are you?"

"Do you have any more clothes like that?" asks Hermione.

Ginny whips around to face her, a wide grin on her face. "Why, yes I do!"

"I just want to look good, you know," Hermione replies, unsure why she feels the need to justify it.

Ginny skips to her bag and fishes out a black minidress with lace accents and a deep, revealing v-neck — normally a little much for Hermione, but tonight, fuck it. "This one will surely get you some male attention, if that's what you want," she says giddily.

"Thanks, Gin," says Hermione, taking the dress from her. She holds it up against her body, wondering how much of her backside it'll actually cover. "That is what I want tonight."

Specifically from your brother, she adds to herself on her way to the bathroom to change.

Hermione follows closely behind Ginny, unable to mimic her confident strut as they clatter down the stairs. She keeps reaching for the hem of her dress and tugging it down, only for it to pop back up again, revealing more thigh than she's willingly exposed in quite some time.

"You look great. Stop adjusting your dress," says Ginny.

"It's just so short—"

"Yeah. That's why you look great," Ginny reiterates with a cheeky smile. "I bet I won't be the only one who thinks so."

Hopefully, Ginny's right, and there will be lots of men at the bar distracted by Hermione's legs. Maybe — and it's a big maybe — Ron and Lavender will still be at their bar table, and Hermione will get to witness the look on Lavender's face when Ron does a double-take.

By the time they arrive at the bar, it has been fully transformed into a nightclub. The lights are dimmer, meaning the poor souls who chose to wear white now glow like bleach in blacklight. The music has shifted from ambient folk to pop hits remixed with a heavy bass, and half the tables have been cleared to make room for a dance floor.

Hermione feels a surge of anxiety in the new atmosphere — nightclubs aren't really her scene. She glances toward the corner of the bar where she had most recently been sitting with Ron, and her heart sinks. It's now occupied by another couple, unrecognizable by their pressed-together faces and empty cocktail glasses that obscure them from a clear view.

She scans the rest of the club, wishing another tuft of red hair would stand out to her, but aside from Ginny, there's no one.

"Hey Ginny! Hermione!" Demelza calls from a table across the dance floor. Hermione crosses the center of the room, ignoring the prickling paranoia that she's being watched — she feels so exposed walking through the open space in Ginny's black mini-dress.

Her heart flutters for a moment when she catches a glimpse of Demelza at the table, because she's surrounded by the boys. At least some of them — Harry, Neville and Dean are there, but unfortunately, no Ron.

Lavender is nowhere to be seen either, a realization that sits like a brick in Hermione's stomach.

"Gin, I forgot my I.D. in my room, I'll be a moment," she says, tugging her hand away from Ginny's.

"Alright, catch ya later," says Ginny, skipping off to meet Demelza.

Hermione turns on her heel and shuffles out of the bar, trying not to cry. She has no reason to be upset — Ron's not hers to lay claim on. Unfortunately, that fact only reminds her that he's not Lavender's either, yet they're together, even though Hermione has every right to be in Ron's bed as Lavender does.

She brushes right past her floor — she didn't actually leave her I.D. behind — and makes a beeline for Ron's room, completely forgetting to prepare an excuse for barging in on him. Hermione just wants information, and with an unexpected entrance, she's bound to get some.

But she doesn't interrupt anything. It's too late for that. Her heart sinks when she rounds the corner and sees Lavender slipping out of Ron's room. Lavender locks eyes with Hermione as the door closes softly behind her, and she makes a show of fastening up the remaining buttons on her blouse.

"Looking for Ron?" Her tone of false innocence makes Hermione's blood boil.

Hermione opens her mouth to respond, but she can't think of a retort. Her dumbstruck silence brings a smug smile to Lavender's face.

"Give him a chance to get dressed first," Lavender says as she trots past Hermione down the hallway.

Fuming, Hermione storms toward Ron's door, her fist raised to knock, but something stops her. What will she say? She has no plan.

Hermione imagines Ron opening the door and seeing her puffy, red face, shiny with tears. She doesn't exactly look cute, and by no stretch of her imagination would her current appearance cause Ron to wish she was the one trotting down the hallway with a half-buttoned blouse. Not only that — she managed to make it through the entire afternoon without admitting her crush, but her current state of deranged jealousy is a dead giveaway.

If he sees her now, he'll know just how meaningful for her that kiss on the bridge was. He might suspect that her quiet distraction on the journey back had less to do with the sweltering heat, and more to do with her salacious imagination. He'd be right, but he doesn't need to know that. He doesn't need to discover that her nonchalant attitude at the bar was just an act — an embarrassing attempt to play it coy. Turns out her effort to keep him guessing was all for nothing; there's no point in playing hard-to-get with someone who's not even interested.

Clearly, his affection for her is platonic at best, nonexistent at worst. He brought Lavender up to his bedroom minutes after she rudely interrupted their conversation. If Lavender's his type, Hermione most likely isn't, and a confrontation would only confirm one thing: he's rejected her.

Why give him the satisfaction?

Frustrated, Hermione jerks her hand from the door, and backs away. There's another option here, and at the moment, it's a lot more appealing. She wipes her eyes and turns her back to Ron's door, now determined to show him that she doesn't care if he wastes his time on Lavender Brown. She doesn't care one bit.

But she might need to stop by her room first, if only to splash cold water over her face.

Moments later, Hermione shuffles down the hotel stairs on her way back to the bar. A glimpse of her newly made-up face in the mirror fills her with a new appreciation for foundation and eyeliner. Asinine as it might be, it's quite effective at hiding evidence of tears. And now that she looks like someone else, it won't be much of a leap to act like someone else either.

She pauses at the bar's entrance and takes a deep breath, hesitant to enter. In her absence, the lights have gotten dimmer, the music louder, and the dance floor busier. She has considered sticking with a tried-and-true method of wallowing — hibernating in her hotel room with some snacks and a cheesy movie, and projecting her tragic love life into the tropes of a romantic comedy. Clubs aren't normally her scene, anyway.

But unfortunately, tonight is not a normal night, and her life is definitely not a romantic comedy, so Hermione forces herself to pass into the thick wall of steamy club-air to reunite with the one Weasley that actually matters to her.

It doesn't take long for her to find Ginny on the dance floor — her glowing complexion and elegant red mane stand out in the crowd. It helps that she's accompanied by Luna, whose neon dress and platinum hair give her the appearance of a yellow highlighter.

Watching them dance, Hermione can't help but crack a smile. Ginny's in her element, singing along to a remix of some pop song and radiating with a self-assuredness that's contagious. And Luna has no worries in the world, no concern for the judgmental looks of passers-by as she bounces and waves eccentrically, convulsing to the beat of the music. Her wild movements remind Hermione of an inflatable tube man, dancing in the wind beside the highway.

Luna's a lot, but tonight, the effect is quite pleasant. It's comforting to know that by comparison, Hermione might even look cool in this club.

Ginny spots Hermione and squeals in excitement as she rushes to hug her. "Hey, did you get your I.D.?"

"Yep," says Hermione sharply. "And now I need a drink."

"I'm getting the next round, Hermione," says a male voice from the table. Neville — bless his heart — is smiling and waving at her. "What'll you have?"

"Surprise me, but make it strong!" She tosses her bag to him and he catches it, but not without a fumble.

"Anything?" he clarifies, fishing for her I.D.

"Anything." She doesn't even care if it comes with a straw.

"Attagirl," says Ginny, interlacing their hands, and tugging her toward the thickening crowd of the dance floor.

She obliges, following Ginny's lead, and is once again aware that she's being watched. Normally, it would creep her out to catch a man's eyes lingering on her body, but again, tonight is no longer a normal night, and it's nice to be noticed. Hermione feels appreciated, and not in a platonic marriage-with-no-benefits kind of way.

At the thought of Ron, she glances back to the bar's entrance, scanning the mass of incomers for his flaming hair. Hermione doesn't even want to see his stupid freckled face in the crowd, but for some reason, his absence leaves her more disappointed than relieved. She internally curses that ginger devil; how can someone so undeserving of her attention occupy so much of her mental space?

To the best of her ability, she powers through her disappointment and turns her focus back to Ginny and Luna, right as a dancing Demelza staggers up to them. A few whistles and whoops from the growing crowd bring a blush to Hermione's cheeks. Fuck it — she's in Vegas, she looks hot as hell, and she could have anyone she wants.

Maybe someone else will catch her eye tonight.

#Ron Weasley #Ron and Hermione #ROMIONE #romione fanfic #romione fanfiction #hp fanfiction #hpromione #muggle AU #Hermione Granger #ron x hermione #ronweasley #hermionegranger

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fanficimagery · 4 years

Text

Pull Me Closer

Summary: Imagine moving in across the street from Scotty Sire.

Words: 5.5K Warnings: Language. I adore Kristen with all my heart, but for the sake of this imagine were just going to pretend Scotty is single.

Moving states away felt like a breath of fresh air, especially after the passing of your last living grandparent. Things were tense, even more so after the reading of the will, and the three bedroom home in California was calling your name. The front and back yard was spacious enough for your dog, and the pool and hot tub out back were perfect for you.

Before the move you had your personal belongings and some furniture you couldn't live without shipped to your new home where the house's occasional caretaker put it in the house for you, and even ordered some stuff online from a nearby warehouse that delivered directly to the house. Thankfully the caretaker put everything in their respective rooms, and even had the pool and hot tub set up for your arrival.

So pulling up in your Jeep Wrangler with the windows rolled down, you park in the driveway and stare up at the three bedroom home that is now all yours. Reaching over into the passenger seat, you rub your hand over Rocko's back- your fully grown black and gray Great Dane.

"Welcome home, Rocko. Lets go check it out."

Rocko quietly woofs as you exit your Jeep, quickly rushing around to the passenger side to open the door for your dog. He jumps out, tail wagging as he immediately sets out to sniff the entire yard. You then make your way over to the mailbox where your house key is hidden, your attention being stolen by raucous laughter from across the street. There are a group of boys, a couple of them filming as others run around with paintball guns.

"Whoa. Check out that horse!" The exclamation makes you chuckle, you grinning when you see their attention is on Rocko who's now standing at the curb and staring at the boys with a slightly wagging tail.

You whistle and gain Rocko's immediate attention. "Lets go, boy. Inside!" As you start to make your way towards the house, Rocko leaps into action and follows after you. You push the key into the lock and the door opens easily. Sighing in content, you scratch Rocko between the ears. "Home sweet home, pup."

After scoping out the neighborhood and getting a feel for it, you finally find yourself comfortable enough to jog around in order to get some sort of cardio in. The kids around the block especially love it when you jog with Rocko in tow and you soon find yourself fitting in.

And even though you've been in your new place for about a week and a half, today's the day the neighbors across the street have finally made themselves known.

You and Rocko are walking up to your mailbox when two boys jog across the street. You feel messy and gross because you'd been running around with Rocko for quite some time, but the boys are all smiles. Rocko quietly woofs in excitement and you scratch him between his cropped ears.

"Whoa," the tanned, dark haired individual muses. Only then do you realize he's got a camera in hand. "He's intimidating up close."

"Don't worry. He's a sweetheart. Rocko's just excited because you're new." Both guys seem to ease up at that, the dark haired one stepping up to Rocko and petting him, taking video.

The silver haired, red beaded guy chuckles. "Sorry about him. He's easily excited by dogs. We, uh, we live next door and figured we'd finally come over and say hi. I'm Scott."

"And I'm Todd," Todd says distractedly, leaning down to kiss Rocko before moving back at the last second, laughing.

"Y/N. And nice to finally meet you guys. I think you're the only ones I hadn't met."

Scott sheepishly rubs the back of his neck. "Sorry about that. We're usually home, but our friend needed some content for his vlog so he flew us out to Vegas and-"

"And it's been a party non-stop," Todd says. "Good times."

You laugh softly. "Your friend vlogs?"

"We all do, but David's got more of a following than us."

"Oh. That's cool," you admit. "I, uh, I actually post videos too, but nothing crazy or as frequent as those famous Youtubers do."

"Oh yeah? What do you post?"

"I cover songs that I can vibe with." Todd immediately looks up, pointing the camera at you and Scott. "And I do unboxing videos of some of my fanmail. I love opening up sketchy mail."

"Look, guys," Todd says, "Scott's found his soulmate."

You snort and Scott faintly blushes, glancing at his friend and shaking his head. "Dude, shut up." Then he looks back at you, smile a little wider and a little nervous. "I sing too, but I mostly post videos of the stupid shit me and my friends get up to."

"Why do I get the feeling the shit you and your friends get up to is off the walls insane?"

"Because it is," Todd tells you. "David likes to shoot us with a paintball gun when we least expect it."

"What?"

"It's fine. We get paid, so it's all good."

You chuckle in disbelief. "If you say so. I'm going to have to look you guys up on Youtube now."

"Do it," Scott agrees. "Just look up David Dobrik. We're all tagged in his videos."

"I will." You rock back on the heels of your feet, whistling shortly to catch Rocko's attention. "Well it was good to finally meet you both. I should, uh, I need to shower and eat," you say while slowly backing up the sidewalk into your yard.

"Wait, what?" Todd says, looking up in a hurry. "That's it? We don't get a name in return to look you up on Youtube?"

You and Scott both laugh. "Just look up Halsey on twitter. She tweeted out my latest cover of her song Graveyard a couple weeks ago."

"Halsey tweeted you!" Todd practically shouts. "Shut the fuck up."

"I'm serious." You suddenly can't stop laughing at Todd's excitement, he pushing the camera into Scott's hands so he can take out his phone and get on Twitter. "And on that note," you say when you see the app open up, "I'm gonna go. I don't like seeing people hear me sing for the first time. It's awkward."

"If you ever need anything, we're right across the street," Scott says.

"Ditto. My door is always open," you return.

Telling Scott and Todd your door was always open was probably a mistake, but after the first week of Todd walking in without so much as a head's up, it quickly became the norm. Todd usually showed up, asked about your day, and then spent the rest of the time laying with Rocko. Scott, however, greeted Rocko and then spent the rest of his time with you talking about music.

And within that week, they learned you were a great cook, but couldn't bake to save your life, and unfortunately found out you walked around the house semi-nude. For some reason you were more embarrassed about Scott seeing you in a t-shirt and underwear than Todd, and then quickly realized it wasn't really a big deal to them. Well at least not to Todd, but he still took pleasure in teasing you and giggling like a little girl when Scott would get defensive on your behalf.

And after the boys realized your house was a no-pants zone more often than not, Todd found it okay to strip down to his briefs when he needed a nap, Scott sometimes doing the same after sheepishly smiling and cuddling up with Rocko.

- X - X - X - X - X -

You're unloading box after box in your driveway, your fan mail having arrived at your new address. Several of the boxes are rather heavy and you're unsure about how exactly you're going to get them inside, but a voice shouting from across the street makes you sigh in relief.

"Need some help?"

You turn around, shielding the sun from your eyes, and wave over Scott. "Yes, please!"

Scott jogs across the street, Todd following at a slower place with three other guys. But from binge watching numerous Youtube videos, you realize it's David, Zane, and Heath.

When Scott gets a glimpse at all the boxes up close, he grins. "Went a bit crazy shopping online, did you?"

"No." You huff a laugh. "It's mail from all my subscribers."

"Mail?" Todd asks, slinging an arm around your shoulders in greeting and pulling you into his side. "Does that mean you're going to make an unboxing video soon?"

"Yeah. Today."

"Sweet. I'm sticking around for that." You shrug, chuckling as Scott rolls his eyes. "By the way, meet our other friends. This is David, Heath, and Zane. Boys, this is Y/N."

"Oh hey! You're the singer," David muses, camera in hand. "Is this cool?" He then quickly asks, gesturing to his camera. "You're really good, by the way."

"Thank you and yes." You blush and Todd pinches your cheeks as he mockingly coos at you. He pinches a little too hard and you retaliate by shoving him off of you and punching him as his friends laugh. Scott then brings you into his side when Todd starts poking at you and you practically melt against him. "I've recently starting watching your guys' videos and can I just say that y'all are fuckin' wild?! Holy shit!"

"Ooh, girl," Heath then says. "That cover you did on Sam Smith's Stay With Me gave me the chills. My girlfriend Mariah is in love with your voice."

"I really liked Bad Liar by Imagine Dragons," Todd grins.

You laugh. "You guys really did go through my videos, huh."

"Duh." David giggles. "Scott and Todd couldn't shut up about you, so we had to look you up."

"Oh god."

"Mhm," Zane hums, cracking up a moment later when he can't take himself seriously. "Is it true our boys walked in on you in your underwear?"

"Jesus Christ. Did you guys really have to tell them that?"

Scott squeezes your shoulders. "Don't blame me. That was all Toddy."

Rolling your eyes, you let the smile continue to grace your lips to let the guys know you're not really upset about it. "To be fair, it was a Calvin Klein sports bra and boy short underwear. I also had a flannel shirt on, but it was left unbuttoned, and I never know when Todd is just going to barge in. It really wasn't that big of a deal. I was more startled than anything else."

"So let me get this straight," Zane says, glancing between you and Todd. "Todd saw you practically naked and he didn't try to hump you?"

You snort and then shake your head. "Nope."

"Baby!" Heath then coos at Todd, he and Zane sandwiching their friend in a hug. "You're growing up." You all laugh, David capturing it all on his camera.

"Well if you four are done," Scott says, "Y/N needed our help. Let's get this inside for her."

David's the only one who doesn't help, he being reluctant to put down his camera. You understand, even if his friends give him grief for it. "By the way, guys, don't mind Rocko. He's a gentle giant."

"Rocko?" Heath wonders.

David opens the door for all of you, he cursing quite loudly as Rocko lets out the deepest woof in his arsenal. You, Scott, and Todd all laugh.

"Rocko, my man." Todd enters, setting down his box before being distracted by your dog.

"I swear Todd only visits to eat my food or play with Rocko," you say.

When the guys all notice your set up in the living room and find out you do unboxing videos of your fan mail, they all ask to stick around. You don't mind the company, so you let them, even letting David continue to video for some content he can use in his own vlog.

Once everyone is settled, it's only you, Scott, and Zane in the actual shot. Heath and David sit off the sides, but close enough to be caught in frame should they want to be, and Todd sits behind the camera as he lounges with Rocko who's resting his head on the boy.

Your fan mail is nothing spectacular, the items ranging from band tees to posters to fan art of you and Rocko. And after each box is opened, you make sure to thank the person who sent it by giving them a shout-out. There are also boxes of snacks, which Heath and Zane seem really excited for, and you treat them to your favorites. There are some specialty candy that's only made in Texas that you make the boys all eat, but only Scott seems fond of the cherry flavored gummies that are covered in chili powder. The other snacks from Texas come from a store named Buc-ee's, and David, Heath, and Zane become quite fond of the Beaver Nuggets.

More mail is opened and you laugh as you open several packages just meant for Rocko- toys, treats, and even shirts made specifically for your Great Dane.

"We are seriously going to have to plan a trip to Texas just for Beaver Nuggets," David says, popping yet another caramel-coated, crunchy puff corn into his mouth.

"See. They're good, right?"

"Mhm." He eats a few more before asking, "So, Y/N, what's the weirdest thing you've ever received?"

You immediately blush and the guys all perk up. "Oh this is gonna be good," Todd muses.

"Fuck you." The guys all laugh and you sigh when you realize they're awaiting an answer. "Just.. hold on." You shoot a quick outro clip, thanking everyone for the mail and that you'd have a new song cover coming soon. Just as you're saying goodbye, the boys all squeeze in and wave at the camera. Laughing, you tell Todd to cut the camera off and then tell them what they want to hear. "So the weirdest thing I received was a box full of lingerie and sex toys."

"WHAT?!" Heath nearly shouts, Zane giggling at his side.

"And what's weird is that guy had my size down perfectly. Like if I had tried the lingerie on, it'd have fit."

Scott quirks an eyebrow at you. "If?"

"Yeah. There we no tags on the underwear and all the sex toys were out of their packaging. It was super sketchy!"

The guys all laugh at your grossed out expression. David leans forward, camera nearly in your face. "Now I think the question is, is would you have kept the sex toys had they been in their proper packaging?"

The room goes oddly silent. "Well.."

"You hesitated!" Todd screams, cackling.

You grab a pillow, chunking it at him. "A girl has her needs, you dick! But still, I don't know. Sex toys from a fan is still super weird."

"Baby," Heath coos, "lingerie from a fan is weird. Sex toys is crossing a line."

You nod in agreement and eventually get up to head to the kitchen. The boys all follow as you start bringing out food to eat, and Zane's whistle of appreciation catches your attention.

He's looking out into the back yard, David and Heath by his side. "No offense," Zane starts, "but how are you affording a place like this?"

You chuckle as you scoop some ice cream into a bowl. "It's been in the family for quite a while. I actually inherited it last month when my grandfather passed." The guys go quiet and you glance at them, smiling as they suddenly seem uneasy. "It's okay. My grandfather lived here up until his wife passed away. He moved closer to his family where he then proceeded to lose both his children. When my mom died, I was his only grandchild who continued to have anything to do with him and even moved him in with me when he got sick. I didn't even know this place existed until the reading of the will where he left me everything- this house and his money."

"Damn. I bet everyone else was pissed," Heath says.

"Yep. Hence the reason I'm here now. I got tired of listening to them belittle me, so I packed up myself and Rocko, and here we are."

"Well they sound like assholes," David tells you. "And I, for one, am glad you're here. Scotty is too."

"Dude."

Scott's sudden look of disbelief at his friend sends you into a bout of laughter, you holding your hands up when he nudges you in retaliation. Scott purses his lips to keep from laughing and you quickly wink at him before picking up your bowl of ice cream and moving on.

"Don't pretend I can't hear you," you say while hip checking Zane out of the doorway from where he was muttering something to Todd. "I saw the dry ice video. You guys are not fucking up my pool."

"No, but Y/N, just hear us out..!"

Weeks soon turned into months and you can't believe how much Scott and Todd have changed your life. Scott was a little tamer than Todd, which is probably why you were more drawn to him, but the boys were still wild. You had thought you kept the teeny tiny crush you developed on Scott under wraps pretty good, but when you were eventually introduced to the rest of their friends, Todd made sure the guys knew you were off limits less they wanted to step on Scott's toes. And because you were clearly holding out for their friend.

The girls were just stoked to have another female in the group, and you found yourself being asked on shopping trips and to attend hang out sessions more times than you ever were asked back in your hometown.

You went out with the entire group a total of two times when Scott asked you and you found they were just as crazy as they were in their videos. The first time you kept yourself limited to two drinks in order not to get out of hand, but the second time you were encouraged to let loose. Needless to say, your new friends saw you being a hot mess and you knew you'd never live it down. You had become Zane's favorite drinking buddy, right next to Heath.

But tonight is a night of peace and quiet, you staying in with Rocko and quietly celebrating your birthdays. And since you're not that fond of cake, you had found a bakery that was dedicated to making cakes for pets and ordered one for Rocko. Then once the sun has gone down, you get the cake out of the refrigerator and place four sparklers around the cake. You quickly tug a party hat on over your head and manage to get one on Rocko without him pawing it off, and then light the sparklers before grabbing a bottle of wine in your other hand. After quickly posing for a picture, you blow out the sparklers, take them out, and let Rocko devour his cake.

Once you've got yourself a glass of wine poured and have made yourself comfortable on the couch with some of your favorite movies queued up, you post the picture to your Instagram with the caption: Happy birthday to us! For the last four years, I've been honored to share my birthday with Rocko. All I need for this special day is the love of my fur baby.

Along with the picture of you and Rocko, and his cake, you post another picture with it that's of Rocko laying his head on your lap. After posting, you set your phone aside and settle in to watch movies.

- X - X - X - X - X -

You're in the middle of Jeepers Creepers when your doorbell rings, you startling and then shushing Rocko when you startled him as well. Pressing pause on your movie, you get up to go answer the door. And when you swing it open, you're met with Scott's beaming smile and two cupcakes in hand- one cupcake with a lit candle shoved in it and the other with a dog treat shoved in it.

"Scotty," you chuckle, immediately melting and leaning bashfully against your door.

"Happy birthday, Y/N." He then leans his head in through the doorway, saying, "Happy birthday, Rocko!", to which Rocko woofs in response.

"What are you doing? I thought you were filming at David's tonight?"

"My bit was over with about ten minutes after I had gotten there," he says. "Now come on. Make a wish and blow out your candle."

You can't stop smiling, but you do as you're told. You stare at the flickering flame, make a wish, and then blow it out. Scott mock cheers. "Thank you. I've got beer in the fridge and Jeepers Creepers on TV if you want to stick around."

"Sounds like a plan."

After gesturing him inside, you huff a quiet laugh as he readily kicks off his shoes. As you head for the kitchen, you hear him call out to Rocko and feed your dog his own treat. You then return with a beer for Scott and another glass of wine for yourself, and take a seat on the other side of Rocko since he had snuggled up to Scott himself.

Ten minutes into the movie, you can't help but look at Scott again. He meets your gaze and grins, light from the TV reflecting off his nose ring. "I'm really glad you came, Scotty."

"Yeah? Me too."

Nearing the end of Jeepers Creepers 2, you can't help but take a quick picture of Scott and Rocko as they sleep on the couch. You have no idea how Scott is able to take so much of Rocko's weight on his arm, but he does and he looks quite adorable.

The picture gets posted straight away with the caption: I take back my earlier statement. All I need on this special day are my two favorite boys [heart eyes emoji] #WeakInTheKnees

You're floating in the middle of your pool, Rocko lounging on his own float not too far away as music fills the back yard from a portable speaker sitting on a nearby table. Your hands lazily sweep through the water at your sides to keep your float moving, and your eyes flutter open at the sound of a cat-calling whistle.

David stands at the edge of your pool, camera in hand and pointed directly at you with Jeff and Todd at his sides. Raising your hand, you flip off David's camera and then laugh when you hear Jeff say, "Man, Nerf is never allowed here. He'd be so jealous of Rocko's life."

"One of these days, Wittek, I'm gonna kidnap your dog and hold him hostage for a couple days. He ain't ever gonna wanna go back home to you."

"Keep dreaming, Y/L/N."

Todd suddenly whoops as he strips off his shirt, jumping into the pool a moment later. David laughs and when Todd doesn't immediately resurface, dread fills your stomach. David is still giggling and before you can say anything, you're yelping as your float is upended and you're rolling into the water.

Resurfacing and spluttering on water, you splash Todd's laughing face. "You're a dick, Toddy."

"You love me."

"Fuck off."

"Well not as much as you love Scotty."

David and Jeff laugh, and you splash him again. "Will you stop saying I'm in love with him?"

"Why? It's true. You're both just too goddamn oblivious to notice it."

"Oh I notice it," you say as you continue to tread water. "We're just- we can't escape the tip-toeing stage."

"Well escape it," Jeff says. "The sexual tension is killing us."

"God I hate you guys sometimes." Swimming over to the edge of the pool, you accept Jeff's helping hand. Then sitting on the ledge and accepting the towel David passes over, you ask, "So what's up?"

"Scotty's birthday is coming up. We need ideas," Todd says. He swims over, pulling himself out of the water and sitting next to you.

"Well I would offer up my pool, but I've seen how out of hand your parties tend to get. I don't want you to break my house," you say, chuckling.

David opens his mouth to deny the statement, but then shrugs and giggles. "Yeah."

You take a moment to think about it, clicking your tongue on the roof of your mouth. "What are you guys doing for music?"

"Not sure yet. Shouldn't be too hard to find a decent DJ."

"I think I might know someone. Someone pass me my phone." Jeff looks around until he spots it, grabbing it and giving it to you. You bring up your text messages, shooting off a series of texts back to back. "I'm not sure they'll agree, but if they do-"

"Who's they?" David asks.

"Some friends I knew from before they blew up," you say. Your phone dings and you read the texts coming through, smiling. "So my friends are actually in town for a few weeks. They're down to DJ and perform a bit of live music if you want them."

"Well who are they?" Todd wonders.

"If I tell you, not a word of this to anyone. Clear?" All three boys nod. "I know them as Alex and Drew, but they're more famously known as the Chainsmokers."

"Shut the fuck up," David immediately blurts. Todd and Jeff laugh. "Are you serious right now?"

"Yeah." You pull up the texts, showing them to your friends. "They're down to party. They like to surprise people so they'll probably wear masks or something and play some remixes. Then when things really get going, they'll go live."

"Holy shit." Todd is still laughing. "This party is gonna be dope!"

"Now I'm kind of jealous," Jeff chuckles. "Why couldn't you be my neighbor first?"

You scoop up some water in your hand and fling it over your shoulder. "Shut up." Then looking back at David and Todd, you say, "They'll need a stage to set up their shit. Is that do-able?"

"Uh yeah!" David nods.

"Cool. I'll help you plan some more later, but now I need some ideas. What is a good birthday present?"

"Sex."

"David!" Todd and Jeff laugh, and you attempt to splash water at David. He easily sidesteps it. "I'm serious"

Todd smiles. "Honestly? Sing for him. You know he's been wanting to hear you sing live instead of watching your videos."

"Ugh. I rather seduce him." David high fives you and you laugh directly into his camera. "If you put that in the vlog, I'm gonna drown you, Dobrik."

A week and a half later, it's Scott's birthday. Todd has managed to keep him busy all day, but not after you walked across the street to deliver him a birthday cupcake. Scott had beamed when he saw you, and then hugged you and pressed a kiss to your temple as Todd cooed from around the corner.

You had then proceeded to set up all day, laughing at everyone's reactions when Alex and Drew showed up to set up their area with turntables, lights, fog machines, and a few confetti cannons. You only expected some lights and music, so you thanked them profusely for going all out to which they assured you only the best for the guy who apparently held a special place in your heart. You had blushed that they picked up on that and then sighed when David, Natalie, and Zane overheard and continued to tease you throughout the entire day.

You got ready with all the girls at David's and then arrived at the small warehouse where the party was to take place. Alex and Drew wore light-up masks to conceal their identity until later in the party, and the guests started to show up by the carload.

Scott's started texting you about ten minutes ago, skeptical of Todd's motives and vague answers of where they were driving to. You had anticipated that, so you took a few selfies at your house and at David's beforehand to send to him so he wouldn't suspect you were in on anything. It worked.

You get anxious when you realize Scott and Todd have finally arrived, and the whole crowd of guests go silent. As planned, Todd enters first because there was no way Scott was going to when Todd didn't answer his questions, so it's only after Todd ducks out of the way do the lights flick on and everyone shouts Surprise!

Confetti rains down, and horns and sirens blare. Scott is beaming, hugging all his friends who are the front of the group. When he gets to you, he points an accusing finger in your face before wrapping you up in a hug. You laugh and squeeze your arms around his waist until he lets you go.

You're about to hang back as everyone crowds him, but he grabs your hand and the smile he flashes you has your stomach turning. He squeezes your hand and tugs you closer to his side, and you get the feeling that he doesn't want you to wander off too far from him.

The music is a hit with the crowd, as you expected, and Scott seems to be having a good time. The alcohol is flowing, David is directing bits here and there for the vlog, and everyone is having a good time on the dance floor. But soon enough a cake is being wheeled out and the entire crowd is singing happy birthday. Scott is bashful through the whole thing, he blowing out the candles and dodging the first handful of cake that Todd attempts to smash in his face.

"Alright, alright, alright," Alex says from behind his mask. "You guys throw an insane party, but let's kick things up a notch." The crowd cheers as horns blare over the speakers, but you can see the confusion in numerous faces. The masks finally come off and the crowd erupts louder. Scott's eyes widen and he looks at you in surprise. "We are the Chainsmokers and thank you guys for coming out to Scotty's birthday bash."

The music restarts, fog and confetti blasting as the music comes back on.

"Who the fuck got the Chainsmokers?" Scotty asks.

Everyone looks at you and you shrug. "They're friends of mine. I cashed in a favor."

Scott's eyes sparkle. "Thank you."

"Don't thank me yet, babe. The night is still young."

- X - X - X - X - X -

The crowd is still hyped an hour after Alex and Drew had lifted off their masks, and then they're even more hyped when they realize the Chainsmokers are performing live. You, Scotty, David, Toddy, Natalie, Jeff, Heath, Zane, and Mariah are up on stage, and when the song switches to something a little slower Toddy looks at you expectantly. You wink, but make no move as your friend starts to perform the beginning of their hit song Closer. You can see Mariah lip syncing to Heath and you move to the beat next to Scotty, making him dance with you along to the lyrics. He obliges you, chuckling in amusement, and then pulling you closer to him when the beat drops.

Moments later, a microphone is pressed into your hand and you fight off a smirk when you see Scott's eyes widen as you bring the microphone up to your mouth, leading him towards the middle of the stage. "You look as good as the day I met you. I forgot just why I left you; I was insane."

Todd and Zane scream off to the side, holding onto one another. David records the entire thing and you can see your friends from the corner of your eyes as they get hyped up over you serenading Scotty.

"So baby pull me closer in the backseat of your Rover that I know you can't afford. Bite that tattoo on your shoulder." You mock bite at his shoulder and Scott laughs. "Pull the sheets right off the corner of the mattress that you stole from your roommate back in Boulder. We ain't ever getting older."

The beat drops and you're all set to start dancing, but Scotty surprises you. He grabs you by the back of your neck, reels you in, and presses his mouth against yours. Your friends, plus the crowd who you hardly even know, all erupt louder in excitement. Your left hand grasps onto his hip, the other still gripping tight to the microphone. Lights are flashing, confetti is raining down, and you pull back from Scotty to see his bright eyes shining down on you.

Heart pumping furiously, you bring the microphone back up to your mouth to sing, "We ain't ever getting older!" The beat drops yet again and this time it's you who brings him down into a kiss.

Scotty laughing against your mouth sends you into a fit of giggles, and when you eventually pull apart because of all the jostling your friends are doing, he keeps you close enough to mutter, "Best birthday ever," in your ear.

#fanficimagery #imagine #vlog squad imagine #vlog squad x reader #vlog squad #scotty sire x reader #scotty sire imagine #scott sire imagine #toddy smith imagine #todd smith imagine #scotty sire #scott sire #toddy smith #todd smith #david dobrik #heath hussar #zane hijazi #jeff wittek

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thestupidhelmet · 4 years

Note

How do you think season 8 would have gone if Sam hadn’t come in at that moment? What if Hyde and Jackie talked it out on the couch and reunited and then Sam came into the picture weeks later?

There would be hell to pay. If Hyde genuinely didn’t remember marrying Sam and told Jackie only about hanging out with some people she wouldn’t like for two weeks -- and then Sam shows up claiming to be his wife?

That’s actually an interesting angle.

Jackie would be furious that Hyde could marry a stranger after knowing her two weeks and not Jackie after, “supposedly being in love with me for years!”

Hyde: Come on, man. I was so drunk I’ve got no freakin’ memory of it.

Jackie: That makes this so much better. You got drunk at a beer warehouse when I gave you that ultimatum, and you couldn’t even propose to me.

Hyde: ‘Cause you made me think you’d left before the time limit you put on me.

Jackie: You waited until fifteen minutes until the time limit! I wrote that note to you fifteen minutes before that. Anyway, not the point. You married a stripper! A stranger. How do you expect me to feel about that?

Hyde: Uh ...

Jackie: Uh ... isn’t gonna cut it, Steven.

---

Hyde would ask the Formans how to get a quickie divorce. Sam might object, but Hyde would explain, “Look, we had a cool two weeks together I barely remember. I’m sure it was fun, and thanks for your ... service? But I was already in a bind before you showed up--

Sam: You do remember something about our time together!

Hyde: What? No, I -- crap. That’s where those bruises on my wrist came from. [Sighs] Look, I’m in love with another girl, and I got a lot to make up for. My chances went from slim to you’ll-be-lucky-if-she-kicks-you-in-the-’nads because I’m damn coward. So we’re getting this marriage axed.

---

Hyde manages to get Sam to look over the divorce papers, but Sam won’t sign. She knows Hyde’s father has money -- something he told her during those drunken two weeks in Vegas. She wants him to pay her for her signature.

Hyde: You’re blackmailing me? Man, I used to find that hot in chicks, but now it’s aggravating. I don’t have any dough. My dad does.

Sam: So get it from him. I’ll wait.

Hyde: He’s in Milwaukee.

Sam: Like I said, I’ll wait. If it’s an hour or a year--that’s up to you.

---

Hyde goes to W.B., who tells Hyde he needs a lawyer. Sam is extorting him. W.B. offers to help him with that, and Hyde asks if paying Sam off would be cheaper.

W.B.: Maybe, maybe not, but on principle we can’t let her get away with this.

---

Meanwhile, Jackie is fuming over Hyde’s drunken marriage. The last she heard, Hyde said he’d take care of it, but he hasn’t shared anything about what he’s doing to fix the situation. Angie overheard one of the conversations Hyde had with their father and shares the info with Jackie.

Jackie: A divorce won’t change the fact he married that big-busted tramp. Angie, when this started, I asked him to give me a glimmer of hope. That’s all, and he couldn’t even do that!

Angie: Because Steven is emotionally immature and afraid of commitment.

Jackie: He is!

Angie: Even though you’re the only long-term girlfriend he’s ever had, right?

Jackie: Right...

Angie: And you were together for three years before you got the offer to work in Chicago.

Jackie: What exactly are you saying?

Angie: He sounds pretty committed to me

Jackie: Are you on my side or his?

Angie: Both of yours. My brother made a mistake -- a huge, boneheaded one. But so did you.

Jackie: Excuse me?

Angie: You gave him an ultimatum with a set of rules you didn’t stick to. A midnight deadline doesn’t mean half-past eleven. It means midnight. If he had to give you an answer before then, you should’ve told him that.

Jackie: I shouldn’t have needed to give him an ultimatum in the first place.

Angie: I agree, but what do you think he would’ve done if you’d told him about the job opportunity in Chicago and just let it lie instead of also forcing him to make the decision for you whether to take it or not?

Jackie: I don’t know.

Angie: Sound familiar?

Jackie: You tricked me!

Angie: No, I’m trying to give you a different perspective about all this. My dad says only make decisions driven by fear if your life’s at stake. You both obviously felt that way, but you made dumb decisions because of it.

Jackie [anguished]: I don’t know how to trust him anymore! Okay, let’s say he gets that divorce, and we never see his stripper-wife again. Then what? He proposes to me and leaves me at the altar? Or we do get married, and he leaves me when I get pregnant? Or he’s gone the second life feels a little too tough for him? Or I blink at Michael, and he accuses me of having an affair?

Angie: If you think that poorly of Steven, then your relationship’s already over, and you should tell him. Then you can both move on to futures that don’t include each other.

Angie’s last sentence hits Jackie hard. While Hyde works on getting Sam to sign the divorce papers, Jackie thinks and talks (to many people) and thinks some more about what a Steven-less future might be like.

---

The lawyers W.B. hired find Sam’s other husband, Larry. She’s already married. Her marriage to Hyde is null and void. Hyde tells Jackie the news, but by her demeanor toward him, he can call the game.

Hyde: It’s over, huh?

Jackie: Yeah.

Hyde: Don’t blame you. I didn’t give you a chance in Chicago -- hell, I haven’t given you one since Christmas. I’m sorry I screwed us up.

Jackie: You’re an idiot, and I’m furious with you. But you didn’t screw us up. We did ... which means we can fix it.

Hyde: You sure?

Jackie: If you want to.

Hyde: Yeah, I want to. I freakin’ wanna go back six months and kick my own ass.

Jackie: So do I -- kick your ass, not mine.

Hyde laughs.

Hyde: I deserve it ... and, gotta admit, I’m not sure I deserve you.

Jackie: You do. You just made a dumb choice, driven by fear. Like I did. But I’d rather make mistakes with you for the rest of my life than make none without you. Am I making any sense?

Hyde: Scary to say it, but you are. Jackie ... I didn’t want you to go to Chicago, but I didn’t want to stop you if that’s where you thought your future was, man. And I couldn’t get to marriage. I just couldn’t, so I didn’t have a clue what to tell you.

Jackie: So I said, “Give me a glimmer of hope,” and you heard, “Propose to me”?

Hyde: Yup.

Jackie [sadly]: And then it became propose to me or lose me. I’m sorry, Steven.

Hyde: Don’t be. I married a stripper.

Jackie; You did.

Hyde: I should quit drinkin’.

Jackie: You should.

Hyde: In my two-week drunken haze, got a glimpse of my future without you. It ain’t pretty.

Jackie: No one’s future is pretty without me. I’m the definition of pretty.

Hyde: Right. So ... when I eventually propose to you, I’m gonna be sober.

Jackie: You will?

Hyde: And when we get hitched, I’ll be sober.

Jackie: And during the marriage?

Hyde: Sober -- and sticking around. No other place I want to be but with you.

Jackie: I feel the same way.

Hyde: About yourself?

Jackie: Yes, but about you, too.

They share a hesitant kiss before embracing and holding onto each other for dear life. But their lives together, though not perfect, are perfect for them. They continue to grow and change together, not apart.

#That 70s Show #That '70s Show #Jackie x Hyde #Jackie Burkhart #Steven Hyde #Ficlet #Ask #Anon

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miceenscene · 5 years

Text

N7 Month - Day 14

Name

Everything hurt, that was the first thing Shepard registered. Everything really really really hurt. She could only recall being in this much pain once before, and it took eight billion credits, two years, and a deal with the devil to come back from that one. Her every nerve ending was burning, searing. Blood roared in her ears. Stop stop STOP, make it stop!

And then it did.

The abrupt return to something like normality was so jarring Shepard’s eyes shot open and she sucked in a breath, coughing and hacking at she sat up. For a few minutes she let the world spin around her, eyes shut again as she focused on her breathing. In and out, steady, centered. Then she opened her eyes to survey her surroundings.

She was in a building, or a space station perhaps, or maybe even a ship. The room was so nondescript it was difficult to tell. Just a large room with crates and boxes scattered around in a haphazard pattern. The much more concerning revelation was herself. She’d glanced down at her hands and did a double take, holding them up to stare at them in something like horror.

Before the waking up here and the hurt, half her armor had been melted away by a direct hit from Harbinger. She’d been bleeding out up on the Citadel turned Crucible, Anderson at her side with the best seats in the house. Now her suit was spotless, gleaming and ready for action. She pressed to where she’d had a wound on her stomach, but there was no pain now. She staggered up to her feet, the sheer lack of agony making her unsteady for a few moments.

Had she died? Was the afterlife just some room that looked like a thousand others she’d once ran missions through? Garrus was going to be disappointed about the lack of a bar, she thought automatically before grimacing. Forgive the insubordination… No, no she wasn’t dead. She had orders, she had a retirement to enjoy, some utterly impossible children to raise. She wouldn’t have let herself die and that’s all there was to it. Clinging to that thread of stubborn determination, she finished her self-census. She had all her usual weapons and her omnitool even seemed to work.

“Shepard to Normandy. Come in, Normandy,” she said, opening her comm channels. There wasn’t a response. “Joker, this is Shepard. Come in, Normandy. Alliance, Hackett, anybody.” More silence. “Dammit,” she muttered, shutting the omnitool.

Maybe if she got outside, or found a control room she could get better signal. She pulled out her trusted assault rifle and headed for the only door she saw. Listening for a moment, all she heard was the quiet air circulator cycle on. So she hacked the door open and stepped out into the hall, checking both ways for any sign of movement. Seeing none, she picked a direction and walked silently down the hall.

Stopping at the corner, she listened again, very aware that she was without back up in an unknown environment. If she hadn’t been standing completely still and focused she would have missed it. But she heard very quiet footsteps and the slight creak of body armor. Someone was near.

She waited, listening, as the footsteps drew nearer. Before they got too close, she leaned out just enough to glimpse around the corner. The hall was short and ended in another corner. She didn’t have to wait long as a rifle barrel started appearing from around the corner and then a moment later a person stepped around as well.

Relief flooded her system, making her almost drop her rifle. “Garrus,” she sighed, tears welling in her eyes as she stepped around the corner and ran towards him. “Garrus, honey. Oh thank god.”

Garrus froze as soon as she appeared and stared at her with wide eyes. She didn’t wait, just immediately wrapped her arms around his torso in a hug that wasn’t nearly close enough thanks to their armor.

“God, I was so worried,” she blubbered and sniffled a little. The tension release of him being here, him being safe had overwhelmed her control for the moment. She looked up at him and cupped his scarred mandible with her hand. “How’s your leg? Where are we? I can’t reach the Normandy. What happened with the Crucible?”

He didn’t reply, just stared down at her. Obviously in shock--not surprising given how distraught he’d been last he saw her.

“I followed orders,” she added with a slight smile in a whispery voice. “Somewhere warm and tropical, right?” God, she wanted to kiss him. Right here, any possible danger be damned. “Maybe even a few of those turian-human--”

“Vakarian,” a new voice called from further up the hall.

Shepard turned and a smile broke out on her face. “Vega,” she said, stepping back from Garrus for the moment. That was fine, there’d be plenty of time for a proper reunion back in her cabin. Vega sauntered down the hall, shotgun in hand. “Knew the reapers couldn’t keep you down.”

She reached out to shake his hand, but Vega just gave her a strange look for a moment before looking at Garrus.

“You want to introduce me to your friend?” he asked him.

“She’s not my friend,” Garrus replied in a frosty tone. Shepard’s head snapped over to look at him. What? Were they kidding right now?

“You two really think right now is the time for jokes?” she bit out, feeling deeply hurt that they would choose this moment to be idiots. Fine, if they wanted to be children then she would treat them like children. Garrus, she would have a talk with later. But Vega… “Lieutenant, status report,” she ordered, leaning into every bit of authority she possessed.

Instinctively, Vega snapped to attention for a breath. But then he seemed to realize what he’d done and brazenly relaxed. Oh, he was in for the dressing down of a lifetime.

Then all three of their comms crackled to life. “Lieutenant, status report,” a masculine voice ordered over her comm. Shepard frowned down at her omnitool--she didn’t recognize the voice at all.

Vega was still staring at her in bewilderment, but lifted his hand to activate his mic. “We found the source of that voice, Commander,” he replied. “Armed, but not… entirely hostile. Human. N7. Female.”

“On my way,” the voice replied.

Shepard looked between the two of them. “What the hell are you two playing at right now?” she demanded, patience worn completely through. Her hand curled instinctively around the handle of her rifle.

Garrus swiftly lifted his rifle and pointed it straight at her head. “Put the gun down, ma’am,” he warned in a low fierce tone. Her mouth dropped open in stinging betrayal for a heated second and then a thread of tension unspooled in her gut as something clicked together. She didn’t know where she was, she didn’t know how she’d gotten here, but she knew one thing for dead certain--that wasn’t her Garrus.

“Hands where I can see them,” that same masculine voice ordered from behind her. There was no doubt in Shepard’s mind that she now had several guns pointing at her. So she complied, still maintaining eye contact with the Garrus as she was very aware of what his rifle was capable of. “Turn around.”

Slowly, she turned away from the pair she knew and faced the source of the voice. Standing at the end of the hall was an N7 marine. She’d never seen this man before in her life, she was certain. He would be difficult to forget from the imposing figure to the glowing red scars that cut deep into his face. Even his eyes were illuminated a dull red, she realized as he moved closer.

“Lieutenant,” the N7 ordered. Vega pulled the rifle from Shepard’s hands and the shotgun from her back. He quickly patted her down, finding the flash grenades in her belt, and then stepped back.

“Clean.” Vega moved to stand behind the N7, arms full of her weapons.

The N7 approached with measured steps, an assault rifle that was the exact same model as her own raised to her head.

“Name and rank, soldier,” he said, not relaxing from an assault posture. She didn’t know who that Garrus was, or if that was actually Vega, but this N7 was obviously Alliance. As annoying as it could be at times, sometimes the gravitas her name demanded was useful.

“Commander Shepard,” she answered, not hiding her annoyance.

Vega’s eyes went wide. She heard the Garrus behind her adjust his grip on his rifle. The N7 just stepped closer, finger on the trigger now. One wrong move and she might actually be meeting Garrus at that bar.

“I’m only going to ask you this one more time,” he growled. “Name And Rank.”

“Commander Jane Carren Shepard, Alliance Navy, Fifth Fleet, service number 5923-AC-2826,” she answered without the annoyance this time. “N7 class of eighty-one, first human Spectre, commanding officer of the SSV Normandy SR-2.”

“What the hell is going on?” Vega asked, half under his breath, eyes jumping between her to the N7 repeatedly.

“Yeah, I’d like to know that myself,” Jane replied, despite the multiple weapons pointed at her. She locked eyes with the N7. “Who are you?”

He didn’t reply for a moment, just stood up straighter. “Commander Shepard,” he bit out and then looked past her. “Vakarian, restrain her. She’s coming back to the ship. We can sort this mess out there.”

The Commander turned without waiting and headed back the way he came as the Garrus pulled Jane's hands behind her back and fastened a set of cuffs around her wrist. How she got here was still a mystery, she thought as she was led away, but there was a far better question right now. Would she be able to get home?

Ao3 Version

[This is actually the first chapter of a new untitled project I'm working on. It's gonna be a bit before it sees the light of day, but this chapter fit the prompt well enough I thought I'd give a bit of a teaser.]

#n7month #mass effect #female shepard #garrus vakarian #james vega #male shepard #AU #fanfic #fic #shakarian

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musedblues · 5 years

Text

Hello Again

Part 1 of (maybe 2?)

W/C: 8k

Summary: Gwilym has always been around, somewhere in the background of your fast-moving life. But when summer comes along, you finally slow down enough to take a closer look.

Warnings: Allusion to/ Mentions of alcoholism? Nothing too horrific!

A/N: I’m writing again! Rather, finally getting around to uploading things I’ve had written for ages. There will be a second part to this in the very near future! Please enjoy my hopeless fantasizing, gang! (and don’t be afraid to let me know if you do!) _

You had nearly forgotten all about your past twenty-three years of living, on your rampage through the American desert: and that was your mission... To focus on nothing besides soaking up every the last ray of the blistering hot sun before summer vacation was over, and you had to start senior year of college. You were a history major and initially had big dreams of becoming a librarian or a museum director, so that you could enjoy immense hushed quiet all day before going out with your best girlfriends at night.

You loved to take it easy, especially after a night of partying so hard. You and your friends had established yourselves as the college's most wild group up until earlier this year when you nearly KO'd after staying in the hospital for a month due to alcohol poisoning. You took the school year slow, and when summer came, you piled your three closest friends and took off on a stereotypical road trip. Good, clean fun.

When you weren't driving, your trip was mainly spent poolside, humming along to the static radio Francine toted along with her everywhere. The battery-powered thing would even work in the car sometimes, which came in handy as your vintage mustang wasn't equipped with a port for an aux cord or a radio that worked any longer.

Francine spread her gangly legs across Emma's lap in the back while Tilly sat in your passenger seat, flexing her map reading muscle on a mission to be totally directionally literate by the end of the road trip across the southwest. But then your car broke down forty miles deep into death valley and you all had to cram your belongings and yourselves into the back of a cab. Other friends might not have survived being squished together like sardines. But you made it to the Vegas airport without a foul word between the bunch of you.

Granted, Emma started to cry because the cab smelt of ham and Tilly's beloved map blew across the sandy horizon as you sat on the roadside, waiting to be rescued. You all relied on each other to keep a cool head, like always.

Your three roommates were sometimes too much to handle at once, but over the past three years of college and dates and sickness and flunked classes, you'd be lost without your best friends.

Once you all got back home to California with a bundle of stories to tell and a lot of left over time to fill up, the only thing to do was crash.

Luckily, your brother's fancy new home was the closest and coolest stop. So you decided to take over his pool house like you were still on some kind of adventure.

"How's your brother so well off? And is he well off.. in other areas?" Francine pipped up. She blew away some of her frizzy strands of hair that made her seem like the coolest hippie alive, with a name to match. Her boldness never faltered in style or speak.

"Hm, strange I've suddenly lost my hearing." You quipped, grossed out by the thought of your brother being lusted after.

"Just don't bother him, okay? I'm welcome in the pool house without question so none of you are allowed to mess this up for us!" You informed. Your brother, Daniel, bought the house earlier in the year sometime when a film project he was apart of paid off pretty well. You'd forgotten anything to do with his big winnings in your previously alcoholic state.

"Oh, just go shower! We're gonna search through the movie cabinet and bask in the glow of this projector." Emma beamed.

The pool house was a studio with a tiny square marble kitchen, a living room complete with a bunch over oversized beanbags, and two twin beds hidden in the sunken pit lounge area. The space was designed in the '70s and the golden shag carpet still remained to prove it. This was the faux frat house your brother escaped to when the fancy chandelier in his adjacent home shone a little too brightly for his liking. The best part of the pool house was the film projector and the massive pull-down screen, like a tiny personal movie theater. Though your brother was a bigger fan of dated television series', a few classic films found their way into his collection on the wall-length shelf.

You left the hip space to take a breather in the grey tiled bathroom, taking your time washing off the sheen of dust and sweat your road trip disaster left you in. When you returned to the living room to take Emma's place on the sofa while she scampered to the shower, the girls had popped in some movie of their liking.

"Top End Wedding. I've never heard of it." Tilly called from the floor, crawling around to put the disc in the player. She had already placed the cover back into its rightful spot on the shelf.

"What's that even mean?" Francine wondered, snuggling under a furry blanket.

"Shut up and find out like the rest of us." Tilly offered, plopping back against a florescent bean bag.

You chuckled as the movie started, but turned your attention your cell phone after it started too buzz. There was an email from the death valley mechanic addressing the problems he had to fix in order to get your car running again. You typed back a response in a hurry. When your friend's giggles cut through your focus, you clicked your phone off and turned your attention back to the film.

You'd completely missed the first scene, catching only glimpses of lush green islands and a lady with a broken high heeled shoe. But then a familiar voice spoke up.

"I have to take her to court?" Gwilym Lee was on the screen. Of course, he was. He appeared unmistakably himself... but much different from the last time you recalled seeing the man.

You silently chuckled to yourself, wondering whatever became of your brother's best friend. After Daniel and Gwilym finished grad school together, Gwilym was apparently apart of a few major British productions and a well off guy. But between your focus on college and some extra wild nights out, you'd barely seen your brother outside of holiday celebrations. So Gwyilm was hardly ever brought up in conversation. Or maybe he was, and you were just too maxed out to register. Be that as it may, the blue-eyed man was on the screen now... looking rather grown-up.

"My God he's a catch am I right?" Tilly pipped up, sipping vodka she'd found in the mini-fridge. Did she really think so? Dear old Gwilym?

"Look at him! That actress is so tiny next to him, God. Imagine being pinned between him and a wall." Francine swooned, in her usual lovestruck wonder.

And the intrusive thought was frightening to you. Because it seemed almost appealing. Gwilym hugged you goodbye once, some odd years ago. His strong arms were certainly brought a comfort you could still recollect.

"Confirmation that we're all hot for this Ned character?" Tilly turned her pretty feathery head of hair to you. You were busy bitting your thumbnail and wondering when Gwilym had gotten so buff.

"Huh? Oh yeah, Ned's cool." You nodded emptily.

"Pfft!" Francine spat, sitting up and leaning across a pillow toward you. "Get your head out of your car troubles and look at this fine British hunk!"

"I thought this was an Austrian film?" Tilly wondered.

"He's clearly British! Listen up! Haven't you paid attention during the world's fair week?" Francine rang, lifting her own glass of vodka toward the screen.

Your phone buzzed again and you desperately hoped it was the man who would assure your car was liable and you could pick it up and drive it through the desert some more before summer vacation ended. But instead, your brother's name blinked across your dim screen.

Daniel: Are you in the pool house? Come inside for a second. Leave the sorority behind. (No offense)

"I'll be right back. Pools open! Just don't come in the house!" You called out the rules your brother gave you the first time you stayed here. Your friends groaned. You scurried out the window paneled door and across the stone packed pathway to Daniel's deck. The back porch light was on and its reflection glistened off the pool. Was he going to be pissed that you remembered where he hid the spare key and tell your gang to leave? Did he just want to say hello? If he did, why wouldn't he just come out to greet you?

You knocked a couple of times to warn of your requested intrusion. The kitchen was empty and dark but there was a chatter coming from the living room. Your brother must have had company. Why did you need to come in here?

That's when Vinny and Violet came bounding up the basement staircase toward you in a fluffy flurry. They were sibling Burmese Mountain dogs whose nails were clicking against the cherry wood floor as they pranced below your feet; a very excitable greeting.

"Y/N? Come in here!" Daniel's low timbre was heard in from the living room and the sound of clinking glasses followed. Your brother Daniel was standing from his luxurious leather sofa, smiling and gesturing you into the room. On the other side of the sofa was a man you hadn't seen in years, but had just been reminded of only moments ago.

"Gwil is in town! I thought I heard you outside and we were just talking about you."

Oh my God. He was hot. You tried to stifle your shock at the stone-carved beauty of a brother's best friend that rose to his feet before you.

"Hello, again Y/N! Looking very comfortable." Gwil's voice was silky and wonderfully British. The accent would always catch you off guard. But his enchanting voice only reminded you how silly you must have looked in your sad excuse for pajamas. You wore tattered sweat pants and a torn-up tshirt that bared too much of your collar bone to be deemed appropriate.

And the angelic Gwilym was in well-fitted slacks and a dress shirt, blue eyes glimmering, muscles rippling past his perfect clothes.

"Hi, Gwil!" You chimed, really mustering the strength to sound normal. But what was normal between the pair of you? You'd met him a total of three times.

"Why are you all the way over in this part of town?" Daniel wondered, shifting his weight and glancing at you.

"My car broke down in death valley and your place was closest. Hope it's alright if we crash for the night?"

"I left the pool house key out for a reason! It's never a bother. I like that you're comfortable enough to stay. Roxanne never even comes over." Daniel complained about your middle sister. Roxanne was an unassuming girl with an interest in botany that left her camped out in national parks for weeks at a time. Your sister would talk about plants little to nothing else, besides her terrible crush on Gwilym Lee. A shameless attraction you'd all too suddenly understood.

"How's she?" Gwilym asked with a knowing smile. She could never hide the way she melted in Gwil's presence.

"She's been the movies this year, if that's what you're asking." Daniel chortled. You wondered for a moment if the film your friends had found in the cabinet was one that made it to theaters. Was Gwilym finally featured on the big screen? And did Roxanne really still have that girlish crush?

"She's been seeing a lot of that Max guy, actually. I know because she does, in fact, call me every weekend." You chided, looking to Daniel with a smile.

"Yeah to make sure you're not dead." Daniel retorted. He was never a fan of your wild streak. Bless him. "She's always up to something crazy. Practically Instagram famous." Daniel buffed your confidence, gushing over his very own kid sister.

"I have a few thousand followers, it's really not uncommon." You assured your brother, who'd never gotten more than twelve likes on his own posts.

"Cute." Gwilym smiled. He looked you up and down and if you weren't sporting the world's nastiest pajamas. You'd dare to wonder if he liked what he saw.

"Well I better get back were-" You caught your breath and tore your curious gaze away from your brother's best friend. "...having quite the girls night."

Daniel nodded in response.

"You staying for a while? See you around?" You asked Gwilym. You were a naturally curious girl, and Gwilym Lee was extremely easy on the eyes. Why wouldn't you want to look a little longer?

"Yeah, I'll be in town. See ya around, kid." Gwilym's perfect smile was photograph worthy. But that remark stung. You were just Daniel's littlest sister, to Gwilym.

Later that evening you excused your bout of absence with some white lie about your brother needing help with his dogs after a bath.

The death valley mechanic eventually emailed you with good news, so you text your brother and asked if he could take you through the desert on a mission to get your car back. He happily agreed to take you and to let the girls take over the pool house for the day.

///

Your eyes fluttered open, blinded by the sharp white rays of sun boomeranging off the pool and into the window by your bed. Emma was passed out on the adjacent bed, snoring peacefully. There were more shuffles and chatter from the level above you and you knew the other girls were awake. You heard muted squeals and high pitched whispers floating through the pool house, and among them, a lower voice grumbled.

"Y/N! Ned's here!" Francine's unmistakably excited voice rang out.

"Oh, lovely!" You heard Gwilym let out a far off chortle.

Shit. What! Why? You bolted out of the twin bed and up the couple of steps, feet flying over the inexplicable shag carpet toward the double doors.

Gwilym was dressed for the day, in khaki shorts, a white short-sleeved button-up, and turtle framed glasses hiding the sparkle of his sea-blue eyes. And he was standing in the doorway with that stupid smirk, looking right at you.

"Gwil! Hi?" You reasoned, shouldering past Francine who was clutching the open door frame with her jaw hovering just above the floor.

"I texted you a bunch- but I see you were still asleep." Gwilym grinned, shoving his hands in his pockets.

"Is everything alright?" You wondered suddenly. You didn't even care that your hair was sticking in different directions, and the man had already seen your atrocious excuse for pajamas.

"Well, Dan got called into work. Left in a big hurry and asked if I'd help you out today. Fancy a lift? He took his SUV. Left the Buick." Gwil actually smirked, like he was making a sweet deal.

That's when Emma let out a gasp from somewhere behind you. She'd spent the first half of Top End Wedding in the shower, but quickly joined your friends to gush over the main character upon her joining the film

Gwilym's eyes left yours for a moment to glance over your shoulder to the house full of girls.

"Uh... alright." You gave a nervous grin, realizing you didn't really have another option. Daniel trusted Gwilym with his vehicle. If he caught one of your college friends behind the wheel of his car, he'd blow a gasket for certain.

"Uh, give me a minute to get my self together?" You nodded to Gwilym. The pair of you had never really spent any kind of quality time with each other. Only sat beside each other during dinners out with your brother's friends and across the living room sharing jokes. This was very different. Did you trust Gwil?

"Sure. I'll wait here if you lot don't mind." Gwil turned his bright gaze to Francine who's chipped nails were still digging into the open door. The girl gave a subtle nod, watching Gwil creep toward the kitchen counter.

"What the hell is going on?" Tilly laughed as you gestured past her.

"Secrets out! Gwil is a family friend. Please don't freak him out." You groaned, scooting to the bathroom. Tilly gapped at you as you spun into the bathroom to pull yourself together.

After finding an old Sargent Pepper tshirt in your bag and managing your hair into a suitable fashion, you hurried back out of the bathroom to hit the road; praying that your friends hadn't corned Gwilym.

The girls were scattered around the kitchen, leaning against counters with their eyes plastered on Gwil. He was like a wonder of the world. An uncovered treasure splayed out in the open.

You had spotted your sandals by the counter and were stepping into them as Tilly asked daft questions to Gwilym about how he knew me, and just exactly how rich he was. The man answered Tilly with grace and caution. Was he really so easy-going? After apologizing profusely and shooting daggers to your girlfriends it was time to go.

"You can use the pool and the dogs will probably hang out. Francine, you're in charge of disaster prevention!" You pointed your way out of the door, as Gwilym followed with a chuckle. Funnily enough, the brash girl was the clearest head in times of trouble.

Gwilym shuffled toward the garage and as you passed into the musty room, feeling a little sick to your stomach.

"Gwil, are you sure this is how you want to spend your day? I don't want to ask too much of you."

"Oh get in the car. I haven't got a thing to do until Dan gets back tonight. There's no harm in a little road trip, is there?"

"Three hours one way. This is your last chance to back out."

Gwilym was already behind the wheel, buckling his seat belt with a smile. You had no choice but to shrug and scramble in the passenger. At least this ride had a radio.

Five minutes in.

"Where's my turn?" Gwilym panicked, steering the wheel sharply to swerve out of the way of roadkill.

"Next exit. When did you learn to drive in the States? Yesterday?" He was almost too quick to react.

"Ha. Ha." Gwilym produced a dry laugh, speeding up ever so slightly. "Last year. A couple of mates and I spent the summer driving around this very desert, I'll have you know."

"Hmm, I see." You smiled as you tried to picture Gwilym going on some great adventure. As far as you knew, his work was his life. Must be some pretty important pals to have tricked the tall man into having a little long-lasting fun. Was he always so cute when he smiled like that?

20 minutes later.

"It's too late now Gwilym. We're already on the freeway and the next exit is only a private ranch."

"But I want a soda so bad." The Englishman whined. For some reason, that surprised you. You realized you really didn't know this guy at all. But you really wanted too. So you promised Gwilym you'd track down the closest fast-food spot and started into an easy-going conversation.

"What would you be doing today if I wasn't in such desperate need?" You teased but you really wanted to know more about the man. The pretty, pretty man.

"Back home? Probably spending the day at a sports game. Having a few drinks at night. Maybe a film to wrap up the evening? That or working I'm sure."

"Yeah, I'm sure." These were things you already knew about Gwil. But you could have listened to him drone on in that delicatessen accent forever and a day.

"What about you? Still out till the odd hours? Still dating that Rodney fellow?"

You couldn't help but let a snort escape you as you turned your head toward Gwil. Had it really been so long since you'd seen him?

"I broke Rodney's heart three years ago, Gwil. I dated around for a while but it's been a busy time. I've not even had time to drink myself sick all year." You smirked. Gwil let out a shocked chuckle. He was right to do so. You used to have a little too much fun.

"No time to do anything but cram. I've not even been to the movies. What do you know about those?" You grinned. It was his dream to act. You felt a little bad for not keeping better track of the local theater. Surely Gwilym had made it to the big screen by now.

"I heard you saw a certain one last night." Gwil pipped up gently. Ah yes, Francine introduced the man at the door as 'Ned.'

"Yeah, that... We found the tape in the cupboard. Your character was a total catch by the way. Any others I've missed out on?"

Your conversation was flowing, and you felt real true ease between your brother's best friend and yourself. Whether it was circumstantial or genuine, you let yourself sink into an appreciation for the magnetic moment.

"Uh... a few," Gwilym spoke. "Do you like the Beatles?"

"Why were you cast as Mr. Harrison or something?" You giggled at Gwil's change of subject.

"Just wanted to make sure you weren't a fraud." Gwilym smiled, gesturing to your Sargent Pepper shirt.

"I'm no fraud!" You assured. "I love all that old rock and roll stuff." You'd scored tickets to see Ringo Starr before college kicked off. It was the best damn day of your life.

"Good. Let's have at it then, aye?" Gwil managed to uncover an aux chord from bellow the counsel and plugged it into his phone. The man reached out and cranked the radio up to the tune of Do You Want To Know A Secret. And for just a moment as you sang along, you pretended that Gwilym knew you were singing to him.

2 hours in

You stopped at the In-n-Out one hundred miles inward. Gwyilm finally got his soda and a whole lot more. The pair of you split a giant order of fries and traded burgers when you discovered you liked each other's orders better. You both thought about splitting a shake but you convinced Gwilym to get his own. He downed the sweet treat in minutes, but yours sat beading with sweat in the cup holder now. A couple of inches of the frozen drink rippled in a melted puddle as the Buick crept toward a gas station.

Gwilym stood in the heat to fill the car as you disposed of the collection of fast-food trash.

"Should I get more snacks?" You called out to Gwil from across the otherwise empty lot.

"Why don't we just agree to a nice dinner on the way home?" He shouted back. It sounded like a joke but you knew it wasn't. You went on to purchase some sunflower seeds anyway because you'd want to stash some in your car.

"Don't act like you don't want some of these." You prodded Gwils ribs as you both settled back into your brother's car. He shook his head with a grin as you tore open the packet of sunflower seeds.

"You're unbelievable. I guess I'll have a few." Gwil reached a hand out after revving the engine.

"Alright. How much was gas, while we're at it?" You gave the bag of seeds to Gwilym as you reached into your purse for your wallet.

"It's none of your business. My treat, really. Thank you for sharing." Gwil laid the bag of seeds to rest in your lap as he turned the wheel out of the gas station.

"I'll let you have that one but I'll get you back when you least expect it." You grumbled, snatching the seeds for your own again.

"Let's get back to your opinion on American football. We've got a lot to dissect here." Gwilym smirked, hands lose on the wheel, tires steady on the road. He was getting the hang of this yet!

"I'll tell you mine if you tell me yours." It was the unsexiest innuendo of all time, but with gentle prodding, Gwil had begun to easily open up to you.

///

The car dealership was just outside Vegas and your beloved mustang was roasting in the hot sun, ready to be driven back to safer grounds.

You practically fell to your knees before the mechanic who ordered special parts and offered you a discount for all your troubles.

"Just follow behind, I know the way back." You smiled to Gwilym, admiring the way the soft breeze tousled his hair. "Thanks again for this." He was really a good sport.

You had settled into your old mustang, fingers fitting into the worn-out divots in the steering wheel. But you cursed when you reached for the radio. You had really been pampered all day, in your brothers Buick, with groovy tunes and a whole lot of eye candy.

That's when your phone rang. It was Gwilym.

The desert road was wide open, but you still decided to put the call on speaker and rest the phone on your dash.

"Hello?" You laughed, checking your rearview mirror. Gwil drove your brothers Buick a safe distance behind. You swore you could see Gwilym's bright white teeth as he responded.

"Hello! I've just realized that I promised to take to dinner, but I can't very well do that with you leading the way."

"Oh, that's what this is about?" You snorted, eyeing the mountains across the horizon.

"Where shall we go?" His voice crackled from your dashboard.

"There's an exit in about forty minutes with a few suitable options. Nothing movie star worthy though." You clicked your tongue, wondering if this was all some fever dream brought on by the ninety-degree day.

"Oh stop it. Is there an IHop? I love IHop."

"You do?" You chuckled. Gwilym hummed with certainty.

"Alright." You spoke up, glancing in the rearview once more. Was he looking? "I'm sure we can track one down."

"Thanks, kid." There it was again, that pesky pet name. You didn't like it at all.

"Am I liable to call you old man?" You jabbed, making your feelings known in a light-hearted manner.

"Whoa now, I'll hang up and leave you alone with your broken radio." Gwil threatened. He remembered your telling him your radio was broken? You glanced in the rearview once more and noticed Gwilym holding up his middle finger.

"Hey!" You laughed.

"Eyes on the road!" Gwilym challenged. There were, in fact, shiny cars popcorning over the horizon.

"Alright, alright! Can you Google and drive? I'll be your eyes." You offered, driving ahead of the man.

"Hang on," Gwilym spoke. You smiled and bit your lip to withhold the burst of joy you wanted to scream out. "I've got one. I'm gonna pass you and take this adventure into my own hands if you don't mind."

You could hear Gwilym smile as his car sped up past yours in an instant.

"See ya at IHop old man!" You shouted, swiping the phone call to end before Gwilym could shout back.

Your brothers Buick zoomed past you and began to blend in with the waves of heat on the horizon. You prayed under your breath that the man leading your way wasn't just a mirage.

///

You sat across from your brother's best friend in a sticky old IHop booth while a family of six and an old married couple filled out the other corners of the restaurant. One waitress floated through the otherwise empty diner to cater to all of you as the sun set.

Gwilym ordered a tea and you warned he was going to be disappointed in the Americanized beverage. He shooed off your comment and relaxed in the booth while you sipped your coffee. You wondered how you ended up here, then you wondered how Gwilym ended up here.

"Have you really just come to town for my brother's silly party?" You suddenly quizzed. Dan threw what he called a "mixer" once every year, where all the friends he'd ever known were invited to drink bourbon and pretend it was fun being an adult. This year was a bit of a house warming party, and your whole family was invited.

"Sort of. I wanted to see him anyway and some other friends around LA." Gwilym offered, resting his head on the heel of his hand while he gazed at you.

"I see, I forgot you were a big rom-com star now." You chuckled. Of course, he was in Hollywood to mingle with other bright eyed up and comers.

But Gwilym just rolled his eyes and smiled as the waitress floated by to fill up your coffee cup.

"The last time I saw you was Easter in 2015, do you remember that?" Gwilym sat up a little, twirling his finger around the rim of his mug of tea. You tried really hard not to notice.

"I'm surprised you do. I was late to brunch and you left not long after I showed up." You recalled. That was when he hugged you goodbye, as he was leaving and you were just joining the rest of your family. He lingered around the dining table to finish some conversation with your father, but you don't remember him leaving.

"'Course I remember. You poured something from a flask into your coffee when your mum wasn't looking." Gwil gestured toward your warm cup and you winced in remembrance.

"Those were the days, huh?" You furrowed your brow even though you smiled, a little sick at the thought of drinking anything.

"They aren't anymore?" Gwil seemed to gently pry, and you weren't about to lie to him.

"No, I learned my lesson in the hospital." You shrugged, hoping to never stay that long on an IV drip ever again.

"What?" Gwilym asked. He seemed genuinely concerned and you hadn't realized he didn't know. Dan would usually warn anyone to keep an eye out on you in case you keeled over like you always used to morning noon and night.

"Yeah, I drank myself silly." You laughed, but it wasn't silly at all. That month was shit. "I haven't drank since January."

"Christ." Gwil shot his wide eyes toward you.

"It's a good thing! I like coffee much more, anyway."

"Than this," Gwil gestured around the eatery, "was the perfect choice."

Gwilym's smile was ultraviolet. You admired him in a way you might have anyone else, but the longer you took in his features, they became prettier by the second. You caught yourself staring, but that was usually the case. What caught you further off guard was the way Gwilym seemed to be just as in tune to your conversation as you were. LIke he really wanted to right here, in the middle of nowhere, with his best friend's kid sister.

He was too good to be true. Why had it taken you so long to realize?

///

That same night, you drove your friends back to your flat to the tune of their incessant teasing. You guessed you'd be shocked if Colin Firth showed up to crash your spontaneous slumber party, after watching Love Actually. So, you couldn't blame them, but you could block them out. You found your mind wandering to the weekend. You found yourself thinking of Gwilym.

Your brother's annual gala was three days later. Your parents swung by your flat and gave you a lift all the way across one town to the next so you could all attend your brother's first party in his new home.

You wore torn up mom jeans and a decent blouse, unbothered by most of the guests sporting their finest black-tie looks, like this was the waiting block for Mad Men auditions or something. Everyone was drinking and the smell alone made your blood curdle. You slinked through plastic Hollywood types and decided you didn't need to drink to have fun, or waste your time mingling.

You wound up in the posh den, in a leather recliner, directing your brother's dogs to do tricks. You got Vinny to start barking at his reflection in the flat screen tv , much to the annoyance of the passing guests. But someone was charmed by your antics. Gwyilm leaned against the door frame with a now-familiar smile.

"Vinny, look!" You pointed to the flatscreen while the giant dog spun around to start whining. Gwilym laughed at you, and you whipped your head to find him watching on, drink in hand.

"Are you having a good time?" Gwilym comically quizzed, scooting further into the room. He sat on the arm of the chair you occupied, holding his glass between his legs. You looked up at the British hunk and smiled.

"We are. Violet just learned to shake hands!" You quipped. The dog bounced over at the sound of her name and sat in front of you, ready to show off her new skills.

"Nice to meet you, lady." You teased, holding your palm in front of your brother's dog. Violet raised her paw into your hand and you smiled as you shook it.

"Well before we call the circus and send you off, you better say goodbye to your family. Your mum's been looking for you." Gwilym laughed, shaking his head as he sipped something dark.

God, how embarrassing. Did she send him to find you? Did she think you were passed out in the bushes or worse? With a pursed smile you stood and left the den to find your mother lounging in the living room with a few other, older guests.

"Oh, this is my youngest, Y/N. A very bright girl." Your mother gushed, grabbing on to your writs and pulling you toward the sofa as some middle-aged blonde lady smiled widely at you. Her name was Dawn and she was busy trying to one-up your mother in housewife points. You just gave a fake grin and spun around to find your father asking about your car troubles.

"It's all fixed and fine now." You assured. Dan appeared on the scene, boasting about how his friend Gwilym was kind enough to take you on that trip. Gwil was sitting back on the sofa, smiling at your father as Dan boosted his ego. But he deserved the praise.

"Gwil practically saved my life!" You pointed, spinning toward where the man was settled onto the love seat. In your classic dramatic flare, you flung yourself into Gwilym's lap without thinking. The time you'd spent with the man had stripped away the layer if unfamiliarity between the two of you. And you would have plopped into anyone of your friend's laps. You made sure to bring your hand to your forehead to ensure your swooning was just for show. Even if you happened to feel a swoop of endearment at the prospect of being so close to Gwil. He was stunning. And his fingers were cautiously hovering around you, as if he wanted to hold you but knew better. And as you scooted out of the man's lap toward the cushion beside him, you swore you saw a hunger in his sea-blue eyes.

"Alright, leave the acting to him, you're no good." Daniel batted your hair on his way across the room at the sound of his name being called.

Moments after you peeled yourself off of Gwilym Lee's lap, your sister showed up. You hadn't seen Roxanne in what felt like ages. On her arm, an unassuming botanist called Max, who seemed to be totally head over heels for your older sister. Boy was he in for a treat.

"Hello, Roxy." Gwilym smiled, resting his glass on the coffee table as he stood to greet your sister. And just like that, the usually demure girl practically melted. You couldn't blame her, not anymore. Not after you caught a glimpse at how warm Gwil's smile really was.

"This, uh, this is Max." Roxanne shoved her boyfriend between herself and Gwilym, a human shield. The equally as meek fellow seemed to look up to Gwilym with wonder in his eye. You realized that no one was safe from doing a double-take. Gwilym was just that great.

The party fizzled out. Before the last guests even left, Roxanne kissed her beau and skipped out to the pool house with you, deciding to spend the night for some much-needed one on one time. You stole some of Daniel's sweatshirts and snacks from your brother's home and locked yourselves into the private little hut in his back yard.

After nearly a full hour of listening to your sister gush over how much she liked Max and how their relationship was taking off, Roxanne got quiet.

"I didn't realize Gwil was in town." Roxanne sheepishly admitted, reaching to the bowl of popcorn between the two of you.

"Yeah, I was surprised too." You realized. "I can't believe you still have a thing for him."

Roxanne laughed and shook her head as if that was all behind her now. But then she bit her lip and looked at you to tell her secret.

"No harm in looking, right?" She shrugged. Roxanne really did seem happy with her new boyfriend. But anyone with eyes could see Gwilym's glow and would probably long to bask in it all the same. You weren't blind to that any longer.

///

Emma and Francine were busy sitting around your apartment doing nothing, terribly bored of it all. Tilly had gone back to visit her family while the summer raged on, leaving the three of you to your own usual devices. Your brother had asked you to stay a little while longer, but he and Gwil took the dogs to a hiking trail and you got bored alone in the pool house after your sister went home. So you drove back to your flat where your roommates decided to waste away together.

"There's nothing good on tv. And I don't wanna go out. Why is nothing fun anymore?" You complained. The days of dancing the night away seemed like a waste of time to you now. There had been lots of fun last year, and the ones before. Maybe too much fun. When you weren't drinking you were asleep in someone else's bed. Casual dating turned into some kind of game. And it all started when Francine challenged you to get with as many people as you could take a shot for. And naturally, you were down to take the drinking challenge, but you took way too many shots that night. And you started zipping through one night stands like it was your job and you needed extra rent. You felt nothing, numbed by so many drinks. And near the end of your manic episode, you thought that maybe the more people you shagged, you'd eventually feel for one of them. But that never happened. Even when you brought some of them home and tried to mold them into a little perfect box.

You had a lot of time to reevaluate in the hospital. You hoped with your new lease on life that meaning would seep back through your cracks. But sitting around your old dusty apartment bored you. Wasn't there any balance anymore? Your phone buzzed you out of deep thought.

Gwil: How'd you get Violet to shake your hand? She won't listen to me or Dan!

You: I'm a dog whisperer. ;)

"We could do arts and crafts!" Emma chirped like a hopeful preschooler.

"It's too hot to think of having fun." Francine moaned, sprawled across the sofa with her upper half sliding down toward the floor.

Your phone buzzed again. Gwilym responded with the meme of the angry-looking cat sitting at the dinner table. You let out a breathy laugh that fanned through your nose. Before you could think of responding Gwilym had sent another text.

Gwil: I'll find out your secret one day.

You: Take a hike!

He should have been trekking through scenic California mountains instead of sending you memes.

"Earth to Y/N! Why are you smiling at your phone like that when we're in the middle of a boredom crisis meeting?"

"What?" You blanched. Had you really been lost in the short-lived conversation between Gwilym and yourself? He was just too good to be true. Of course, you were transfixed by the lad.

"Yeah, who are you talking to? Is Stu back from Ibiza? Are you two hooking up again?" Francine challenged, sitting up on the sofa with a knowing grin.

"God no, not Stu. He stole my underwear. That fucking creep." You shivered at the memory of your very last and longest hookup. Emma grimaced in response, but Francine, like always, wasn't satisfied.

"So who is it then?" The girl's honey-brown eyes filled with mischief as she reached for your phone.

"Why do you think it has to be anybody?" You whined, trying to lean further back before Francine could launch her self toward you. But it was too late, she latched onto your cell like a falcon, and scanned the screen. Her lips turned into a wild smile while Emma turned her head in anticipation.

"It's Ned!" Francine let out a burst of laughter as you dove back toward her to rescue your stolen device.

"Ned from the movie?" Emma questioned.

"What other Ned's do you know, Emma?" Francine rang, allowing you to take back your phone.

"The dad from the Try Guys." Emma shrugged. You would have laughed if you didn't feel your stomach fall away. What was there to be so nervous about?

"Why is movie star Ned sending you memes? How do you even know him, again?" Francine sat straight up against some throw pillows to begin her interrogation.

"When Daniel moved to London for college, he and Gwilym became the best of friends." You sighed, reminding Francine of the name of the man she kept referring to.

"He sent you a meme, Y/N." Francine rose her brows like she was alluding to something more.

"After he drove you across the desert and back," Emma added, pointing your way.

"Yeah, I guess he's my friend too." You gapped. Well he was, wasn't he? Your phone buzzed again and everyone's eyes filled with curiosity as you kept your phone clutched to your chest.

"He's also a movie star!" Francine rang.

"Just because he was in some Australian rom-com doesn't mean anything-"

"What other movies has he been in? Maybe he's loaded and you guys can be Hollywoods new it couple." Emma cooed like she was dreaming for herself.

"I don't know- the last time I saw Gwil was years ago I hardly think-"

"Babe. I can tell you're into him so do away with excuses!" Francine leaned over the sofa to rest a hand on your knee.

"Guys, I'm just now really getting to know him..." You reasoned, trying like mad to pretend his gloriously pretty face wasn't always on your mind.

"He's hot. I'm talking mega beautiful. I don't blame you. And he basically already took you on a date." Francine remained trying to get you to crack.

"Uh, guys..." Emma was fixated on her phone screen when you and Francine whipped your heads toward the girl. She began to squeal through her teeth as she bolted from the pull out bed and skipped toward the coffee table to snatch the remote.

"What are you doing, Emma?" You asked but it sounded more like a warning. She only giggled as the tv buzzed to life. After a quick search on your shared Amazon account, a film from last year started to play.

"Are you trying to tell us that Gwilym is in Bohemian Rhapsody? Wasn't that nominated for a bunch of awards?" Francine focused on Emma who was staring at the screen in anticipation.

"Oh my God." You sighed. Not only did were you turned off by the thrill of seeing Gwil on screen, you felt horrible for not knowing your brother's best friend was in a damn blockbuster. Had you really been so far gone in party land that you were that blinded to the world around you? Francine picked up on your unease and tried to talk you into the spirit.

"He's probably just in the background for a second. But we have to watch it, so, Let's just get it over with."

Emma let out a nervous giggle as an actor opened his eyes on the screen. You literally held your breath while the film crept through the introduction. And then you saw him. Dawning a curly black wig and a smile that belonged to someone else.

"Oh no." You groaned at the exact moment Francine let out an excitable laugh.

"Your boyfriend is Brian May!" She squealed. Gwilym wasn't your boyfriend, but he was nearly identical to the guitarist of Queen. You loved their music. You loved their story. But you had totally missed the posters and promotions for the film that featured Gwil's name in lights. You decided then and there that you would never drink again. You and your friends watched the rest of the film in total rapture. Emma decided the blonde playing Roger was the new love of her life. Francine started to cry when the lad playing Freddie walked out of the doctor's office. You held her hand as the band kicked off Live Aid and when the credits rolled, Emma hit mute and you three stared at each other for a beat, lost for words.

"I sort of forgot all about Ned. He's a proper actor, isn't he?" Francine looked to you like she'd just seen a ghost. You could only muster a stunned nod of exact agreement.

"I just remembered something... my sister in law saw this in theaters like four times. She's totally obsessed with it. Let's call her!" Emma reached across the pull out bed to claim her cell phone before you could stop her.

"No, Emma this is ridiculous! It's not like I don't know Gwil." You reasoned.

"You just said that you were just getting to know him. And trust me when I say that no one knows an actor better than the fandom." Francine lifted her brow as if to prove a point. The girl was still obsessed with Supernatural, and would spout off info about the actors she kept up learning online. But it was all hearsay, wasn't it?

"That's insanely untrue, just so you know." You nodded to Francine, hoping to coax her out of that toxic mindset. The phone was ringing through Emma's speaker and before anyone could day more, someone answered.

"Susan! What do you know about Gwilym Lee?" Emma giggled, resting her phone on the bed with her speaker's volume all the way up. You buried your head in your hands as Francine wrapped an encouraging arm around your shoulder.

"You mean Brian May's clone?" Susan the sister in law crackled through the cell phone. She wasn't wrong. Halfway through the film, you'd nearly forgotten the real members of Queen weren't actually there.

"Is that a compliment? I mean really tell me about this guy. Sell him to me." Emma bargained, propping herself up on her elbows and kicking her feet behind her.

"Okay..." The girl on the phone breathed and suspense built up in your stomach while you waited for a stranger to list of facts about your brother's best friend. "Gwilym is perfect for starters. He's into sports and he's totally obsessed with his castmates. They still see each other all the time. Gwil seems totally devoted and passionate. Rumor has it he's engaged. The good ones are always taken."

You suddenly felt like a ghost of your former giddy self. Why should you have felt so sick? So what if he was engaged? He was just your friend. But friends were supposed to tell each other these sorts of things, weren't they?

"Engaged?" Emma squealed, practically causing the silky pull out bed to ripple from her risen octave.

"Well, it's just a rumor. There are no pictures of a ring or a girl or anything. But where there's smoke there's fire. Anyway, can I tell you about the rest of the cast?"

Francine sat up beside you, casting fiery eyes into yours as she reached for her phone to begin investigating for herself.

"No, I've gotta go." Emma hung up with no explanation, flinging her legs over the edge of the rickety couch bed.

"She's right, there's no evidence." Francine rang, turning her phone to me with a slim Google result list.

"Not to be a downer but I feel like there's gotta be something going on, right?" Emma glanced at you with big sad eyes.

"I- I don't know. Maybe he is? He's talked for ages about his family. Never said a word about a girl."

"That's because he's into you and he's on a great American fling. If there's a girl he's not going to say so." Francine reasoned. She was right. She had to be. Gwilym was too beautiful and endearing to have been single. You were just a good flirt.

I can't get no satisfaction, I can't get no satisfaction... 'cause I try and I...

Your phone was ringing. And your friend's eyes were glued to your every move. You were only a little shocked to find Gwilym's name flickering across your dim screen now. But as you snatched the phone to answer you felt your chest tighten between a rope of anxious nerves.

"Hi, Gwil." You tried to sound nonchalant as you stood up and pointed a warning finger to your friends. But they, of course, couldn't be expected to hold back their bursts of excitable chirps.

"Hi-"

"Hang on!" You warned, making a break for your bedroom. There was little hope your friends would settle their giggles because as they chased after you to beg to eavesdrop, they were squealing far too loudly. After dramatically flinging yourself behind your locked bedroom door you answered the phone once more.

"Okay! Hi!" You sighed, trying desperately to even out your breathing.

"Is this a bad time?" Gwilym quizzed over the phone. You cast your eyes across your well-kept room with a smile.

"No! Just... what's up?" You wondered in turn. No time was a bad time for Gwilym.

"Alright." The man let out a chuckle before continuing. "Well, this might be a stretch, but here it goes. I was going to bring Dan with me to a premier tomorrow. He had to cancel last minute for work, yet again. I've already got a plus one, so, would you like to come with me?"

"I'm second best, huh?" You laughed, stepping further into the room, past a stack of books around the corner.

"Well, first if you think about it! Dan called dibs, but I... well I called you."

Oh dear. You had to remind yourself to breathe as Gwilym went on to say,

"I think you'd get on well with my mates is all, and you seemed to have a free week. Asking seemed worth a shot."

"I see." You bit your lip. Was he really being as forward as he sounded? Was he really engaged? "Well, I'd love a night out. Only if you're sure though."

"Oh, I'm sure. Come round Dan's by seven?" You could hear him smile.

"Okay." You agreed while still holding your breath. "See you soon, Gwil."

What do I wear?

#gwilym x reader #gwilym lee x reader #gwilym lee #borhap fanfic

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natashasbanner · 4 years

Text

and so the feeling grows, Chapter 3

Weddings bring out the romantic in all of us or at least that's what Harry keeps saying. Macy isn't entirely convinced.

One of her sisters is getting married, the other is playing matchmaker with the invitations and her best friend thinks the whole thing is hilarious.

Or, Mel is getting married and it brings Macy and Harry closer, a feat they didn't think was possible.

A/N: I was planning on posting this yesterday, but I fell asleep and woke up at ten pm. Please enjoy and let me know what you think :D

Also on AO3

The house was in chaos. Well, that was putting it nicely.

There were flower arrangements on every available surface, the dresses and tuxes for Niko’s side were hanging in the dining room and Macy and Maggie’s dresses were on a rack in the living room. The contents of Maggie’s binder were spread everywhere, taped to the walls and scattered over the entire first floor. Maggie herself was running around trying to put the final touches on everything from which mascara would be best on Mel to whether or not Niko should wear her curlers to bed.

Macy was staying out of the action, holed up in the kitchen with Harry who was there for moral support. They were baking muffins for breakfast in the morning, well Macy was baking and Harry was sitting at the island, stealing bites of chopped fruit when he thought she wasn’t looking.

“Does Maggie realize she’s not the one getting married?” he asked quietly.

Macy turned around and swatted his hand away from the bowl of blueberries.

“Mel hasn’t exactly made it easy for her,” Macy defended, catching a glimpse of Maggie shoving Niko into the dining room. “And weddings are stressful for everyone involved.”

He plucked a blueberry from the bowl and had it in his mouth before she could stop him and he smirked. “You seem to be doing fine,” he said, inclining his head toward her.

“I took myself out of the equation,” she said, making a waving motion around the kitchen. “I’m helping by making breakfast for tomorrow. You’re just sitting there.”

“They’re not my sisters.”

“Harry,” she said, wiping her hands on her apron. “You’re family too, you know.”

He smiled, taking another blueberry. “So you all keep telling me.”

“Because it’s true.”

He shrugged his shoulder and ducked his head, his eyes on the book he’d been pretending to read. Macy watched him for a moment before going back to the mixer on the counter. She switched it on and watched the ingredients inside blend together.

“I’m gonna kill her.” Mel’s voice cut through the noise from the mixer and she switched it off and turned around to see Mel standing in the entryway of the kitchen.

“I’m actually going to kill her,” she repeated and Macy could see the fire in her eyes and the burning redness in her cheeks and chest.

Harry was on his feet and at Mel’s side in a flash, guiding her to his vacated chair.

“I don’t think Niko would appreciate taking her fiance to jail the night before her wedding,” he said soothingly, moving to pull a bottle of liquor from cabinet by the fridge.

Macy stood back and watched him pour two glasses and hand one to Mel. Her shoulders relaxed as he sat beside her and patted her shoulder.

“I just don’t get why they’re panicking,” she said with a sigh, downing what was in her glass. “We’ve been planning for months, it’s all perfect.”

“They’re just nervous,” Harry said, taking a sip from his own glass. “It’s a big thing, getting married.”

Mel snorted and reached for the bottle on the island. She poured herself a generous amount before Harry took the bottle from her. “If it were up to me, I’d just take Niko to Vegas and get it over with at one of those drive thru chapels.”

Macy chuckled and Harry did the same, finishing off the rest of his drink. “I’m afraid you’d be the one leaving the house in a body bag if Maggie or Niko heard you say that.”

“That doesn’t leave this kitchen.” Mel pinned him with a glare and he raised his hands in defense.

“You have my word,” he promised and Mel pointed her finger in Macy’s direction. “She took herself out of the equation.” Macy nodded her agreement and Mel relaxed and downed her drink again.

“Okay, that’s enough of that,” Harry said, sliding the bottle out of her reach. Macy stepped forward and screwed the lid back on, taking the bottle to put back in the cabinet. “I’ll distract Maggie and you go grab Niko and sneak out the back door. You can stay at my place tonight.” He dug his keys out of his pocket and pressed them into Mel’s hands.

“You two deserve a peaceful night before tomorrow,” he said, already moving to stand.

“Harry, we can’t do that,” Mel said, shaking her head, trying to give Harry his keys back.

“I insist, for our collective sanity.” He pushed her hand away. “You need a night away from this madness and I know you won’t get that here or at your apartment.”

Mel didn’t move for a moment, but eventually she stuck the keys in her pocket and slid out of her chair. “Thank you, Harry.”

To Macy’s surprise Mel wrapped her arms around his middle and hugged him. He looked over her head at Macy, eyes wide and she just smiled as he settled his hands on her back. Mel pulled away quickly and hurried out of the kitchen to find Niko.

Harry looked over at Macy, rubbing the back of his neck. “How do you feel about a sleepover?”

“I’ll allow it,” she said. “But you have to actually have to help me make these muffins.”

“Deal.”

“What you did with Mel was really great,” Macy said softly.

They were laid out in her bed, her laptop open between them with her favorite show playing quietly.

Harry shrugged, his eyes on the screen. “It was nothing.”

“It wasn’t nothing,” she argued. “You always know how to handle these things.”

He turned his head and nudged her shin with his foot. “I’ve had loads of practice.”

“So have I, but I hid in the kitchen and you sent Mel and Niko away and got Maggie to give the wedding planner from hell bit a rest,” she said with a sigh.

“Don’t sell yourself short, Macy. You’ve done a wonderful job with your sisters.” He reached across the distance between them and took her hand. “Mel is getting married tomorrow and Maggie damn near planned the whole thing. I’d say they turned out alright.”

He paused, giving her hand a tight squeeze. “My point is, you your best with the cards you all were dealt. And it’s okay to need a helping hand every once in a while, a hand I am more than happy to lend.”

Macy smiled and sighed. “Do you ever wonder what your life might be like if you hadn’t met us?”

“Don’t you mean if I hadn’t found you sobbing in the campus library in the middle of the day?”

She let go of his hand and swatted at his shoulder. “I was dealing with a lot and you refused to leave me alone.”

“I couldn’t leave you there, not in good conscience. Pardon me for being a decent human being,” he said huffily. “And I think the ten years of friendship that came from that day was well worth a little extra nudging.”

Macy reached for his hand and he laced their fingers together, bringing their joined hands to his chest.

“I almost ran the other way,” she admitted. “When you finally convinced me to eat something, I was going to bolt as soon as you turned your back. But you never turned your back on me.”

“And I never plan to,” he said, bringing her hand up to his lips to kiss her knuckles.

“Even if it means giving up the comfort of your own home for the night so that my sisters don’t kill each other?”

He grinned against her knuckles and planted another kiss there. “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

Macy bit her lip, her heart thumping in her chest. Harry looked back at the screen, holding her hand against his chest and she could feel the warmth of his skin through the thin material of his shirt. His eyelids were drooping longer and longer with every passing minute until his grip on her hand loosened.

Macy used her free hand to close her laptop before settling against her pillow. She pulled her hand free from Harry’s and smoothed the hair back from his forehead as her eyes slid over his face. His mouth was opened slightly, his soft snores filling the quiet room.

She could already imagine all the teasing Maggie would no doubt find time for tomorrow, even with the wedding going on. Harry spending the night in her bed sure as hell looked like they were a couple. And Macy would be lying if she said it hadn’t crossed her mind more than a handful of times over the last ten years. But their friendship was far too precious to hope for anything more and risk losing everything.

He came into her life that day in the library and never left. Not when Mel fought his presence tooth and nail for years, not when Maggie refused to leave his side to the point where he couldn’t leave the house for over a week, not when Macy screamed for hours when he took her sisters out to dinner when she was working late and he left his phone on the kitchen table. He was there for everything after her mother died and she was made guardian of Mel and Maggie.

Harry was their family and Macy’s best friend, that had to be enough.

He stirred under her touch, reaching up to swat her hand away from his hair. His fingers closed around hers and he held her hand against his chest. Macy smiled to herself and let the steady rhythm of his heart beating against her fingers lull her to sleep.

Her last thought before she drifted off completely was that this was enough.

Macy woke up to pounding on her bedroom door. She shot straight up in bed, completely disoriented. Sunlight streamed in through the cracks in her blinds and she blinked against the sudden brightness. The bed shifted beside her, drawing her attention to Harry who was somehow still asleep.

He’d moved closer through the night, filling the respectable gap that had been between them and had his arm draped loosely over her waist. Macy didn’t have time to worry about the implications of that because the pounding started again and this time Maggie yelled through the door.

“Macy! You guys need to wake up. Someone has to go get Mel and Niko.”

“I’m up,” Macy called back, scrubbing her hands down her face.

Maggie banged on the door one last time and Macy heard her annoyed huff. “They were supposed to start getting ready an hour ago. Tell Harry I hate him for helping them sneak out.”

Harry chuckled from beside her, pulling his arm away to cover his eyes as he rolled over. Macy missed the warmth as soon as it was gone, but she shoved that thought down as soon as it surfaced. Now was not the time.

“He heard you,” she said, but she could already hear Maggie’s retreating footsteps.

Harry started laughing and Macy turned to pin him with a glare. He couldn’t see it, but she smacked him in the shoulder to get him to look at her.

“What was that for?” he asked, looking up at her with sleepy eyes and furrowed brows.

Macy poked him in the center of his chest. “This is not funny and it’s your fault she’s already on the war path.”

“It’s a little funny.”

She narrowed her eyes and snatched the pillow from under his head. “Get out of my room.”

He just laughed again and Macy was tempted to smother him, but that would only set Maggie’s schedule back even further. And that was out of the question.

“She’ll come back and drag us out if one of us doesn’t go out there.” Macy warned.

He held his hands up defensively. “I’m going, I’m going. I’ll even bring coffee when I come back.”

“I won’t smother you then,” she said, crossing her arms over her chest as he got up.

“You were thinking about smothering me?” He asked, tilting his head to one side.

“Jury’s still out.”

“I’ll make that a double shot for you then,” he said with a smirk, eyeing the pillow she was still holding in her hands. “Have fun with Maggie.”

Macy wrinkled her nose and watched him walk over to the door. “I don’t like you.”

He chuckled as he turned the doorknob. “Yes you do.”

The door behind him with a soft click and Macy repeated, “yes, I do.”

#hacy #macy x harry #my fic #please enjoy :D #fingers crossed this chapter actually shows up in the tags

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shimmershaewrites · 4 years

Text

Waltzing's for Dreamers, Chapter 25 (a Walking Dead story, Caryl AU).

Title: Waltzing's for Dreamers

Rating: PG?

Warnings: some adult language, angst.

Characters/Pairings: Carol/Daryl, Sophia, OC, Lily Chambler, Meghan Chambler, Michonne, mentions of Aaron, Tara Chambler, Andrea Harrison, Andre, others.

Author's Note: so sorry for the delay on this story. I've been blocked so horribly and just down in general about my writing. This isn't my best chapter by any means, and not quite what I envisioned when I first drew it up, but words have been so hard for me to come by lately that it's a relief just to put it out there. Enjoy anyway?

Waltzing’s for Dreamers

Seven years after Vegas. Middle of March. The immediate aftermath of Daryl seeing Sophia again.

“Coming to the game, Mr. Dixon?”

Daryl’s still reeling. Trapped inside one of them kaleidoscopes, inside a jumbled rainbow of colors and shifting emotions that only gets more and more distorted with each twist so he don’t answer. Isn’t capable of it really. Just lets the drone of the boy’s words go in one ear and out the other while he grips his steering wheel with blanched fingers.

“Zach. Leave the man alone.”

“Yeah, Zach. He look like he wants to watch us get our asses beat?”

“Who says we’re going to get our asses beat?”

“Coach.”

“Coach wouldn’t say that.”

“He put it in different words. But he definitely said it.”

“Shut up, Jimmy. Nobody asked you anyway.”

The boys argue back and forth, but it’s white noise to Daryl. He’s lost inside his own head, struggling to put together the pieces of a long-shelved puzzle. Just when he feels like he almost has it, has the elusive lynchpin within his grasp, the last bell rings and kids spill out of the school in every direction like ants scurrying to collect crumbs, jolting him rudely back into the moment. “Game’s near Woodbury?”

“Yeah, Man. You coming?”

“Dude looks like death, Gage. Leave him alone.”

“Pfft. Whatever. Just forget it. We’re running late as it is.”

Their voices fade the further they get away but his little girl’s rings loud and clear in Daryl’s recent memory. Carol’s joins it and another small voice, a voice he doesn’t recognize but somehow knows all the same.

“I thought you were dead. I thought you were dead ‘cause no way would my daddy leave me.”

“Sophia. Sweetheart. Not here. Not now. Your brother…”

Carol had frozen at his sharp intake of breath, her blue sky eyes stormy as she’d taken the small boy by the shoulders and tried to steer him away. Tried to distract him from the train wreck unfolding before him, the screech and ear-splitting crash of their past colliding with the painful, harsh reality of their present.

“Nobody.”

That single word, cloaked in ‘Phia’s tears as it had been, still feels like a knife lodged deep in Daryl’s floundering heart. Still echoes in his ears. Haunts him. But it’d been Carol’s softly uttered addition that’d twisted the knife and even now has his life’s blood flowing out of him in a painful torrent. Has him all out of sorts and all but oblivious to the rest of the still moving world around him.

“Nobody that you know, Baby. C’mon. Let’s get you home okay? You and Sis both. Sophia?”

“Mr. Dixon?”

“I didn’t…”

“Mr. Dixon? Can you hear me?”

Cool fingers circle his wrist, discreetly checking his pulse before moving to calmly loosen his death grip on the steering wheel, and the fog finally lifts enough for Daryl to focus. Clarity sharpens his mind but also heightens the grief—and budding anger—that he feels and he turns his gaze to the woman eyeing him with muted concern. He recognizes her as the school nurse. Has had to send more than one of his dumbass students her way in the short time he’s been at this gig. Seen her be friendly with Carol and knows where her sympathies lie. Still. He feels the overwhelming need to explain himself. “I didn’t know. I thought…”

Lily cuts him off with a subtle shake of her head and a suggestion for the young daughter that lingers uncertainly behind her. “Meghan, why don’t you run back inside? Grab something to drink for Mr. Dixon? You were right. He doesn’t look so good.” When the little girl has scampered away and the bus carrying the baseball team is gone along with most of the cars in the parking lot, she finally speaks again. “My sister Tara babysits for Carol. Our daughters are friends, Mr. Dixon. Sophia’s older, but they tell each other everything. Any explanations you think you have for abandoning your family? Sophia and Carol deserve to hear them from you. Understood?”

A ragged sigh whistles past Daryl’s lips and he blinks against the sting in his eyes. “’Phia ain’t in the place to hear nothing I say.”

Lily’s expression softens but she holds her tongue.

Daryl nods to himself and drums still nerveless fingertips against his steering wheel as he gazes straight ahead. “Tell your girl thanks for me, but I got somewhere I have to be.”

Lily stops him with a hand on his arm and an inherent plea in the way she says his name. “Mr. Dixon.”

Daryl ducks his head shamefully. “Mr. Dixon was a man didn’t deserve to be called Daddy. Guess I’m more like the old man than I thought. Don’t worry. I ain’t gonna bother them. Got more sense than that.” He doesn’t meet her eyes again, afraid of the pity that renders her voice a quiet murmur.

“Maybe she’s not ready to hear you now, but if I know Sophia at all? Someday she will be.”

“Someday. Yeah, maybe.”

Turning his key in the ignition, Daryl brings his old truck to life and its cantankerous rumble is so loud Lily almost has to shout to be heard.

“You sure you’re gonna be okay?”

“Gotta be.”

“At least stay until Meghan gets back with your drink.”

“Done told you…”

“You got somewhere to be. I know. I heard you. Just. I know it doesn’t mean much coming from somebody you barely know. But don’t hurt them even more by doing something stupid.”

Daryl mulls over her words. Tries desperately to take them to heart as the truck eats up the miles between King County and Woodbury. To push the building anger he feels away with middling results. Welcome distraction comes when he passes an athletic complex halfway there. Sees the King County baseball coach running practice drills with the boys before the big game and winces because he’s gotten to know the man somewhat. Aaron’s a good guy. Another one of Carol’s friends and coworkers. Earnest. Hard working. Friendly and welcoming to a fault. Ill-suited to coaching but out there anyway, determined to turn lemons into lemonade, to make something positive out of something negative when Daryl aches for nothing more in that moment than a confrontation and some answers.

“Sophia. Sweetheart. Not here. Not now. Your brother…”

He repeats Lily’s sensible words as a mantra, even as the puzzle pieces start to fall into place. The harder the fist around his heart squeezes, the hotter his blood starts to boil. Her brother? But Andrea…

“Nobody that you know, Baby. C’mon. Let’s get you home okay? You and Sis both. Sophia?”

By the time he pulls into the Woodbury parking lot, he’s at fever pitch again. The truck has barely lurched to a stop before he’s jumping out of it and slamming the door, striding to the front entrance and a security guard that immediately diagnoses him a threat, abandoning his post to prevent Daryl from going any further.

“Sir. Do you have an appointment?”

Daryl blatantly ignores his question. Indignantly huffs a half-truth as he deftly sidesteps the man. Woman had been quick to shove those divorce papers under his nose. “I’m here to see my lawyer. We go way back. Don’t need no appointment.”

“Sir,” the man repeats calmly. “I’m going to need you to stop where you’re at and show me your hands. Keep them where I can see them while I verify a few things. Do that and if your lawyer’s receptive to seeing you without an appointment, we’ll go from there.”

Sighing in resignation, Daryl agrees and holds his hands out to his sides. “Fine. What you need to know?”

“You can start by giving me your name and who you’re here to see.”

Some fifteen minutes later, when his anger’s cooled considerably and the pain and devastation of all he’s missed has begun to sink back in deep, Daryl looks up from the weary study of his worn boots when he hears a familiar voice. It doesn’t belong to the person he expected or wanted to see. Instead, it belongs to Michonne, and one look at the grave expression the woman wears has him swallowing hard because she knows. He doesn’t know how much she knows or when she found it out, but betrayal hangs low and heavy around her shoulders too. “She too much a coward to face me herself?”

Michonne’s lips pinch into a trembling, disappointed frown before she sucks in a shaky breath. Her eyes never straying from his, she addresses the guard that waits patiently nearby. “It’s okay, DJ. Daryl’s good people. He’s just been hit with a bit of upsetting news today.”

“Sorry, Man,” DJ apologizes. “Hope you know I was just doing my job.”

As soon as they’re alone, Michonne allows Daryl only a brief glimpse of the disappointed tears in her eyes before straightening her shoulders and clearing her throat. “I understand…”

“No,” Daryl instantly interjects through gritted teeth. “You don’t.”

Nodding to concede his point, she begins again. “I know you’ve just been blindsided. It’s not exactly the same, but I have too. Be that as it may, there’s a little boy behind those doors, my little boy, and I know none of us right now understand this whole mess, but Andre? Daryl, it makes even less sense to him. Do you get that? One minute his mama and Aunt Andrea were happy and laughing. The next? The next they’re…they’re not.”

“I’m sorry, ’Chonne. But…”

“But nothing, Daryl.” Impassioned now, Michonne defends Andrea. On one count at least. “Andrea wanted to come out here. She wanted to talk to you herself. I convinced her not to. Me. Because she was the only one that could console my son. So please. Remember that. Think of him before you storm in there dead set on getting your pound of flesh. Okay? Think of him and treat him the same way you’d treat the son you just found out about.”

Daryl’s throat grows tight again and the tears that had stung his eyes earlier return with a vengeance, streaming unnoticed down his cheeks. Hoarsely, he pleads with Michonne to understand. “My boy, ‘Chonne. I didn’t know. She told me, no, she let me think he died. Even worse…I want some answers, goddammit.”

Michonne grabs his hand, offers herself up as an anchor of sorts. Something steady to hang on to in the onslaught of emotion. “And if they don’t satisfy you? We can’t go back, Daryl. Only forward. What then?”

“Got no fuckin’ clue, but don’t I deserve the chance to figure that out for myself? And to do that, I need to talk to Andrea.”

“Okay. Follow me. We’ll get you your answers.”

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goodmythicalshipping · 5 years

Text

As Much of Me as I Am of You (1/3)

Hi, everyone! In light of GMM taking a little break until the premiere of Season 16, I decided to try my hand at writing my very first fanfiction! I have very little experience writing fics, but I am a writer by trade and hope you will enjoy this three-parter I’ve whipped up! I will post the first chapter today, and the other two tomorrow and Wednesday, respectively.

Summary: Hours before they’re supposed to embark on the first date of their live tour, Link finds himself coming to terms with his newfound adoration toward his lifelong best friend. The next morning, the two simultaneously discover the real meaning of having an “out of body” experience.

Chapter Two >>

After what was almost the 50th time he had reopened and closed his suitcases to double-check if he had everything he needed for the next few weeks, Link had officially finished packing for his next set of live shows across the country. He collapsed onto his bed in relief and lied back onto the mattress, raising his hands to remove his glasses and rub at his tired eyes. While he had completed the arduous task of packing in just under two hours, he knew he wouldn’t be able to sleep for at least the next few. He leaned up, putting his glasses back on to check the time on his alarm clock: 10:11PM. It was already getting late, and he knew he had to be up early the next morning to head toward the first stop of the tour in Las Vegas.

Groaning, he flopped back down to his original position. One might say that Link was excited in anticipation of the many nights of performing in front of their thousands of dedicated fans to come, but something else had been eating at him for the last few months. He rolled over on his side, reflecting on recent events related to his internet morning show that he co-hosted with his lifelong best friend, Rhett McLaughlin. Rhett… the slight mention of his name sent Link into an internal frenzy. He pretended not to notice the difference in social atmosphere at first: after all, they had been at this YouTube thing for over a decade now, let alone their 35-year-long friendship. However, he had definitely noticed a shift in their interactions recently, whether he wanted to believe it or not.

At this point, Link had lost count of how many times Rhett had not-so-casually touched his arm, or lightly brushed their thighs together while sat on the couch, or caught him staring at him for a little too long in the many episodes leading up to their last season finale… it had left him in a very perplexed state that made him sick to his stomach. Why the sudden change? And why now, right before they were about to embark on a long, nationwide trip together? It’s not like they wouldn’t be living in tight corners: not only would they be trapped on countless bus and plane rides together, but they were also sharing a hotel room in many different cities.

He felt his insides become uneasy the more he worried about it. The worst part about this whole situation was that, admittedly, through all of these little exchanges, Link had grown to welcome the extra attention he received from his taller friend every day. Heck, he even enjoyed it. He had bottled up these emotions for so long now, questioning whether they were actually valid or he had somehow tricked himself into believing that there was more between them than there really was. If he was wrong about the whole thing, it could potentially ruin their entire working relationship. Despite this, he asked himself how many more days of hiding his true feelings he could bear, especially when they would practically be glued to each other’s side while away on tour.

He decided to shoot Rhett a quick text to make sure he was ready in time for tomorrow.

Link Neal [10:13PM]: Hey bo, you ready for the big day?

He waited only a short amount of time before Rhett answered.

Rhett McLaughlin [10:16PM]: Yep! Just finished getting together the last of my stuff. You?

Link Neal [10:16PM]: Same here. What time are you getting up tomorrow?

Rhett McLaughlin [10:17PM]: Don’t know, probably around 7.

Link Neal [10:17PM]: Sounds good. I’ll probably be up before you, I’ll pick you up at 8?

Rhett McLaughlin [10:17PM]: Perfect. See’ya tomorrow, bo.

Link Neal [10:18PM]: See ya then. 🙂

Once again, Link removed his glasses and placed them on the nightstand beside him, along with his phone. Setting his alarm and shutting off the lights, he attempted to drift off into a peaceful slumber, all the while mentally preparing for the long day of travel that awaited him…

The sound of a phone alarm jolted Link awake, as he was hit with the familiar wave of morning grogginess. He reached one of his long arms over to shut off his alarm clock, only to be greeted by a blank surface. Confused, he sat up slightly and blindly looked over at the table beside him. Realizing the noise of the blaring alarm was instead coming from his phone, he cursed himself as he struggled to quickly shut it off: he could’ve sworn he had set an alarm on his clock, not his phone. Come to think of it… where was his alarm clock? As he pressed the “dismiss” button on the phone, he was faced with a mysterious screen filled with apps he didn’t recognize, as well as a new background wallpaper. It took him only a few seconds before he came to a realization: this was Rhett’s phone.

How did he get a hold of Rhett’s phone? Weren’t they just texting each other last night? Without looking away from the screen, which read 7:00AM and not 6:30 like he had planned to wake up, he reached for his glasses on the table beside him... wait, where are his glasses? Panicking, he looked next to him to see his glasses nowhere to be found. He searched under the sheets and on the floor, having no such luck. That’s when it hit him: he… could see? He could see everything without his glasses? What the… how? What was going on?!

Looking around, he saw as clear as day that he was in Rhett’s bedroom. But… how? Before he had time to process any more information, Rhett’s phone rang. Link looked at the screen and saw his own contact name calling him. He picked up, figuring it was Rhett on the line:

“Hello?” he answered cautiously.

“Oh, thank god you’re awake! It’s me… well, kind of. Where are you right now?” Rhett prompted, sounding distressed.

“Is everything okay?” Link replied, now becoming more and more anxious. Rhett didn’t sound anything like himself over the receiver, despite his claims.

“Not really,” Rhett admitted dejectedly. “Are you at my place?”

“Yeah, how did y’know?”

“Open the front door.”

Without another word, Link shot up out of bed and headed towards the front door as asked, phone still held close to his ear. As he raced down the stairs, he suddenly became aware of how much his body ached. Why did his back hurt so bad? He finally reached Rhett’s front door, swinging it open and coming face to face with…

…

…himself?

In front of him stood what appeared to be his own figure, holding his phone up to his ear. Link yelled loudly, falling back onto the hard floor behind him and dropping Rhett’s phone in the process.

“Hey, careful!” the figure said, hanging up his own phone. “I pay good money for that phone!”

Link’s eyes widened in fear. Did he just… did he just say his phone? Breathlessly, Link managed to choke out a single word at the figure standing above him, in complete disbelief.

“…Rhett?”

The figure nodded slowly, reaching out his hand to help Link up.

“Unfortunately,” Rhett spoke quietly. “I’m guessin’ ya haven’t looked in a mirror lately.”

“What, how… wait… what d’ya mean?” Link trembled, now back on his feet.

Suddenly, Rhett turned Link’s phone on and opened up the camera app, turning it to show Link. It wasn’t Link’s face he was greeted with, but Rhett’s. Blonde hair, bushy beard, green eyes and all. Link’s face dropped and knees buckled, not believing the sight in front of him. He had to be dreaming, right? This must be some sort of sick mind trick. There’s no way any of this could be real. He let out a strangled gasp, finding himself at a total loss for words.

“You’re not dreaming, bo,” Rhett whispered suddenly, snapping Link out of his daydream, like he had just read his mind. “And neither am I, which means this is real life. I don’t know how or why, but it’s all real.”

“Oh, gosh,” Link murmured finally. “I… how did this happen, Rhett? I’m… I’m you and you’re me! What… I mean, what is this? Freaky Friday? How does this even happen in the real world?!”

“Okay, one: calm down. I’ve never even seen Freaky Friday and I’m surprised you have,” Rhett retorted. “Two: I already told you, I don’t know! One minute I’m noddin’ off in my own bed, the next I’m in yours and inhabiting your body. I mean, d’ya have any idea how hard it was to try and look just like you this morning? Y’all talk about my hair routine all the time, but you’re really one to talk!”

“How can you make jokes at a time like this?!” Link shouted.

“Sorry,” Rhett replied. “But either way, we don’t have much time to try and figure this out. We have a bus to get to in an hour and a half, remember?”

“Are you serious? We can’t possibly leave like this!” Link exclaimed.

“Well,” Rhett chuckled, eyeing Link down. “At least not like that. Y’might wanna put some clothes on first.”

Link shot his head down at himself, realizing that he was completely nude. Mortified, he covered his private parts with his hands, his face turning beet red. He had only caught short glimpses of Rhett’s genitals in the past, but he swore that if he wasn’t in utter shock at the moment, he would’ve sprouted an erection right then and there in front of Rhett.

“Dude, why am I naked?!”

“Man, I sleep naked all the time! You should know this by now!” Rhett said. “Gosh, it’s like ya don’t even know me sometimes.”

“Would ya quit foolin’ around and help me figure out a plan?” Link retaliated. “We only have an hour before we have to leave, and we have zero idea of what we’re gonna do!”

“Well, I think the first step is taking a shower,” Rhett said, crossing his arms. “Your nervous sweating is giving ya’an odor. We’ll talk more in the car.”

Link snarled, turning on his heels to head up to the upstairs shower and gather Rhett’s things for the car ride to the bus.

“P.S.: ‘M driving your car!” Rhett taunted after him.

(To be continued)

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