#bri n her comics | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

fan-fantasies · 2 years

Text

Stolen Goods

A/N: dedicated to breezy for being my best friend and putting up with my bullshit since we were 5 years old ❤️ I’m absolutely in love with this piece and I hope you guys love it to! Part two is already written so just let me know when you guys want it 😏

Pairing: Eddie x reader

Warnings: 80s version of nudes, fingering, swearing, tension out the ass

Summary: You take a liking to your friend’s weird friend. Even more so you take a liking to teasing him.

Part two

“Please come! All you have to do is sit there!” Your best friend pleaded with you.

“I highly doubt that,” you scoffed.

(y/n), pleaseeeeee. I’ll owe you big time,” Bri said.

“Ugh, fine. But you do owe me!”

“Thank you, thank you, thank you!” She screamed as she pulled you into a hug.

You had just agreed to sit in as a sub at her DnD club meeting or campaign, whatever she called it.

You would consider yourself a nerd, just not the type to play that game. You could often be found in the library studying or in a comic book store, which is initially how you became friends with Bri.

She had tried to convert you into her satanic club, just kidding of course, but the game confused you and you had no patience to learn.

She really enjoyed being in the Hellfire Club and you were glad it made her happy. She talked so highly of the guys in it and even said you’d probably take a liking to the leader, Eddie. You’d seen him around school, and heard him of course, but you never understood why she thought you’d like him. You didn’t have a problem with him like everyone else seemed to but you also didn’t understand why he thought so highly of himself either. Maybe that was it- his “better than the bullshit” attitude.

You didn’t think anyone was better than anyone else or above the bullshit. It was high school- it was all bullshit.

The day went by rather quickly and you soon found yourself standing outside the theater room with Bri.

“You ready?” She asked. You thought for a moment before turning on your heel and walking away. But Bri was quick and grabbed your arm, dragging you into the room.

“Hey Bri. Who’s your weird friend?” Eddie asked.

“I’m the weird friend? That’s rich coming from you,” you scoffed.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” He asked, folding his arms across his chest.

“Use your big-boy brain and figure it out,” you replied. Bri just shook her head and sighed.

“I don’t know why I thought this would be a good idea,” she mumbled to herself. The rest of the guys were just staring between you and Eddie, scared to say anything.

“Sit down. You’re a level one princess,” Eddie smirked.

“And you’re a five star douche. What’s that have to do with anything?” You shot back.

You could tell Eddie was getting frustrated which made you happy. He had no reason to judge you right off the bat so you decided to piss him off as much as possible.

“Please, for the love of gods, just sit down!” Bri whispered to you.

“I’m so glad I tagged along. I’m already having so much fun,” you told her. She just groaned and sat you down in a chair behind her. You smirked at Eddie who was giving you a death stare.

You mostly just watched the game, having to roll the dice a few times. You still didn’t understand it but you could see the appeal. The biggest thing that caught you by surprise was just how passionate Eddie was about the game, and just how attractive you found him as the dungeon master. You’d never admit that to anyone, of course, but now you could see why Bri thought you might like him.

“Shit! Shit! Shit!” Dustin screamed.

“Language, young man,” you scolded jokingly.

“(Y/N), you’re our last hope. You have to roll a nat 20 or else we lose,” Mike told you.

“That should be easy. Just have to roll for one singular number. On a twenty sided die!” You yelled. Eddie chuckled from across the board.

“I look forward to your defeat, m’lady,” he said.

“I look forward to you shutting the fuck up,” you mumbled.

“Language!” Dustin yelled.

“Bite me.”

“Gladly,” he purred. You just laughed and told him to blow on the die. Everyone watched with intensity as you threw the die down the table.

“Yes!!! We won!!” They all screamed. They hugged you happily as Eddie finished out his dramatic scene.

“Not too shabby for a level one,” he said, coming over afterward. “Maybe you should bring your weird friend more often, Bri.”

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you, Munson?” You asked sarcastically. He leaned on the table and dipped his head closer to yours.

“Yeah, I just might.”

His warm breath against your skin made goosebumps break out all over your body. You couldn’t hide the shiver that ran through you.

“Do you wanna head out?” Bri asked. You just nodded as Eddie looked at you wish a wolfish grin.

•the next day•

“Hey, princess,” Eddie said, slinging an arm around you in the lunch line. “Come join us.”

“No thanks. I eat in the library,” you said.

“Nope, not today. Today you feast with Hellfire,” he said dramatically.

He pulled you over to the table and Bri looked confused. You went to sit next to her but Eddie stopped you.

“Nope, you sit beside the smartest, toughest, and coolest master-“

“Masturbator, got it,” you said, sitting next to his seat. Dustin spewed milk from his nose and Jeff choked on a piece of chicken. Bri just laid her head onto her hands and sighed.

“Fucking kill me now.”

Eddie scowled at you but still took his rightful seat at the head of the table. You fell into easy conversation with the group and you actually found yourself enjoying it. Eddie waited until you had a mouthful of soda to lean over and whisper in your ear, quiet enough so only you would hear.

“So you think about me masturbating?”

You spit your drink out all over the table and down your shirt.

“Fuck!”

“You okay?” Bri asked. You dabbed are the stain setting into your top and tried to clean the table in front of you.

“I’m fine,” you grumbled. “Eddie, may I have a word outside?”

“Anything for you, m’lady,” he said with a smirk.

You drug him from the cafeteria to an empty classroom down the hall. You pushed him inside and closed the door, shutting the blind of the window.

“I didn’t take you as a girl who spit,” he laughed. You turned around and glared at him.

“Take your shirt off.”

“Excuse me?”

“Are we doing this or what? Take your shirt off,” you said, pulling at the hem of your own top, lifting it enough to show him some skin.

“Oh shit. Fuck. Um, yeah, we can do this. Shit.” He fumbled to get his jacket off but he did and then off came his hellfire shirt. His torso was littered with tattoos and you took a second to admire him.

“Even better than I imagined,” you said.

“Your turn, baby,” he said, taking a step toward you. You matched his own step forward, and just when he closed his eyes to lean in and kiss you, you snatched his shirt from him and ran to the door.

“Guys are so fucking dumb,” you laughed. His eyes shot open and he was too stunned to move.

“Seriously? Give it back!” He said.

“Absolutely not. Did you think I was wearing this mess for the rest of the day? Fat chance,” you smirked. “Oh and Eddie? I definitely don’t spit.”

And with that, you walked out the door and to the bathroom, leaving a very horny and angry Eddie behind.

Eddie threw on his jacket and zipped up the front. He trudged from the room and back to the cafeteria.

“Gareth, do you still have that extra shirt I gave you a while ago?” He asked.

“Yeah it should still be in my locker…why?”

“I need it,” Eddie mumbled.

“Sure, no problem, man.”

“Do I even wanna know?” Bri sighed.

“I’m gonna show that little princess who’s boss,” he growled.

Bri met you outside after classes got out.

“Is that Eddie’s shirt? (Y/N), what’s going on?” She asked.

“He made me spit my soda all over my shirt so he gave me his,” you shrugged.

“He gave it to you?”

“I may have taken it… it’s a long story!”

“You guys are gonna be the death of me. And probably each other,” she sighed, hopping in your car.

“Yeah, we’ll see about that,” you chuckled.

The next morning, Eddie was waiting by his van for you to pull in. As soon as you parked, he was opening up your door.

“Why thank you, kind sir,” you joked.

“I want my shirt back.”

“No.”

“No?”

“No.”

“Someone please kill me,” Bri groaned from the passenger seat. “I’ll see you guys later. Please don’t kill each other.”

“Why won’t you give it back?” He asked, blocking you from going any further.

“Because it’s comfortable,” you shrugged.

“But it’s mine.”

“It’s mine now. I actually wore it to bed last night, it was nice.”

“Jesus Christ, just give it back! I’m sure it doesn’t go with whatever stupid pajama bottoms you wear.”

“Who said I wear bottoms?” You asked. His mouth instantly snapped shut and you smiled. “See you later!”

Once again, he was left horny and angry at the thought of you wearing nothing but his Hellfire shirt.

You didn’t see Eddie for the rest of the day, so you figured you’d give him a little present the next time you saw him. That happened to be at lunch the following day which was perfect.

You folded up his shirt and walked up behind him. You snaked your arms around him and placed the shirt in his lap, making him jump.

“Glad you finally came to your senses,” he said, leaning into your touch ever so slightly. He took a big gulp of juice just as you leaned down.

“Unfold it,” you whispered. He did as you said and his juice was immediately sprayed all over the table.

“Woah, dude!”

“Jesus, Eddie!”

“Enjoy,” you whispered.

Eddie snatched the Polaroid of you, posed in a mirror, in nothing but his Hellfire shirt with your ass on full display, and quickly shoved it in his pocket so no one else would see.

You pecked his cheek and walked off, acting like nothing happened. He wanted to get up and chase after you, but the growing bulge in the front of his pants prevented that.

He did his best to calm himself down by the end of lunch so he could hunt you down and ask you just what the fuck you were doing. Unfortunately for him, you figured he was going to come after you so you went straight to your next class. You did your best to race to your car after school, but Eddie cut his last class just to stake you out.

Your keys had just entered the lock when you were pressed against the door. You new immediately by the smell of his cologne that Eddie had found you. You tried your best to hide your smirk when you turned to face him. He had his hellfire shirt slung over his shoulder for safe keeping.

“Hey, Eddie. Funny meeting you here,” you said. He had you caged between his arms and you couldn’t help but squirm under his gaze.

“Do you think you’re funny?” He asked.

“Fucking hilarious, actually,” you answered. His eyes narrowed and his nostrils flared with anger.

“You’re gonna get yourself into trouble, (y/n),” he said.

“Oh is that so?” You chuckled. “I’m counting on it.”

His body was pressed to yours and you were certain he could feel your heart pounding against your rib cage.

“I don’t think you know what you’re asking for, sweetheart.”

“I wouldn’t ask for much- wouldn’t want to be disappointed after all.”

“I’m gonna fucking ruin you,” he whispered.

“Absolutely not! You’re not fucking in the school parking lot and certainly not in my ride home!” Bri yelled, walking up behind you. She threw her bag in the backseat and got into the passenger side.

“I’ll see you around, Eds.” You winked before pushing him off of you and opening your door. “Oh, wait! One more thing.”

You snatched the shirt from his shoulder and quickly closed your door before he could do anything.

“Are you serious?” He yelled as you sped away. “I hate her. I hate her so much.”

About halfway home, Bri finally broke the silence.

“Sooooo what’s going on between you and Eddie?”

“What do you mean? I’m just having some fun pissing him off,” you laughed.

“I know you and I know when you pick on someone it means you like them. And boy have you teased the hell out of him,” she said.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you mumbled.

“Listen, I think you two would be good together and I don’t want you getting in your own way. And don’t say you wouldn’t!” She argued.

Her words played in your head for the rest of the drive. Did you really like Eddie or were you just having fun? You knew the answer but you didn’t want to admit it to yourself.

You spent your Saturday night alone in your room like the party animal you were. Your parents turned in early but you decided to stay up and break open the newest addition to your comic collection.

Halfway through, you thought you heard something at your window. You waited and heard it again. You looked out and saw Eddie waving you down. He pointed at your front door and you shook your head no. He picked up a large rock and held it up like he was going to throw it. You threw your hands up and flipped him off before quietly running downstairs to the front door. He was already waiting on the front steps when you opened it.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” You asked.

“Did you think I was gonna let you get away with stealing my shirt a second time? Where is it?” He asked.

“Be quiet! My parents are asleep!” You whisper-yelled. “I’ll give it back on Monday; go away.”

You went to close the door but he stopped it. The way his rings shimmered in the moonlight made you shiver.

“Give it back.”

“No.”

“Now.”

“Fuck you.”

“I wish you would!” He finally snapped.

Your eyes widened and you had the biggest smirk on your face.

“Is that so, Munson?” You asked.

“Like you don’t want the same,” he scoffed. He pushed the door open wider and let himself in, pressing you against the wall in your foyer.

“Well aren’t we being presumptuous,” you chuckled. “And I have a dictionary if you need to look that up.”

“God, I hate you.”

Before you knew what was happening, his mouth was on yours in an angry kiss of tongue and teeth. He bit down on your bottom lip and it made you hiss.

His hand slid easily into your panties as you wrapped your arms around his neck to steady yourself. He wasted no time in plunging his fingers between your folds and rubbing harsh circles on your clit. The sensation made you squirm but he had you held firmly against the wall.

He changed his pace and movements and pleasure was suddenly all you could think about. He was sucking hickies all across your neck but you didn’t care enough to stop him.

He slid two fingers into you with ease, pumping them until his rings nudged your clit. You did your best to stifle your moans, not wanting your parents to wake up. You thanked the heavens that the lights were off and no one looking from the outside would be able to see what a mess he was making you.

“Not so much to say now. Huh, sweetheart?” He laughed.

You tried to think of a witty comeback but all you managed to do was whimper his name. You clenched down on his fingers and he knew you were close.

“Are you gonna cum for me, baby?” He asked.

“Y-yes, Eddie,” you moaned. A few more strokes from his hand and you’d be coming undone. Only right before you could finish, he stopped completely and pulled his hand from your panties. “Wh- no!”

“Sh sh sh, wouldn’t want mommy and daddy coming down to see what the noise is, now do we?” He asked with a smirk.

He brought his fingers to his lips and sucked them clean. You were almost embarrassed by how his fingers glistened.

“That’s it? Are you serious?!”

“As a heart attack, baby. Not fun, is it?” He walked back out onto the porch and turned around. “I want my shirt back on Monday.”

He left you on your doorstep, horny and angry. If he thought that he was getting the upper hand, he was so incredibly wrong. You went back to your room to do two things. 1. Finish what he started and 2. Plot how to take down Eddie Munson.

Part Two

——————————

Taglist:

@thebookbakery @dootys @lily-sinclair-2006 @mrsdarcyinlovewithbuckybarnes @munsaniac @rafecameronswhore @tiredwritersworld @mellomadness

It would mean the world to me if you could reblog this and hype it up. I really enjoyed writing it 🥺

#eddie munson angst #Eddie munson smut #Eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #stranger things #stranger things 4

586 notes · View notes

precious-little-scoundrel · 3 months

Note

Here’s how the ‘Dear John’ series came about -

Me: mommy pls write me a fic where john is a manwhore and drunk but can’t stop writing letters to you about how he loves you

mommy : alright baby mama will try no promises tho - help me think of a nickname so it’s not Y/N

me : *dutifully doing ww2 nickname research when * MOMMY DID YOU KNOW SOLDIERS WOULD USE DIRTY ACRONYMS IN THERE LETTERS TO GIRLFRIENDS

marina : for some reason i have a.c.o.r. n stuck in my head

me : IT STANDS FOR - *gunshots* *car crashes* *ya’ll will find out soon*

marina : *creates a whole universe out of a single request from her baby because she’s a goddess and so wonderfully talented and enjoys callum turner as much as me and is the bestest mommy and also creates a second dirty acronym*

All this to say I’m so excited for everyone to see what you have in store for this and you’re the bestest and THIS IS EVERYTHING this is for all you brave boys who were courageous and deserved robust set of knockers and everything great

Bri, you precious little Angel sent from above to brighten my life and give me writing motivation, what did I do to deserve you? This is the cutest, a most highly gracious and fairly accurate synopsis of how it all went down. And all since Friday, lol! Your ending sentence here took me out, it’s just the perfect shade of heartfelt and comic, two things you always are.

Happy to give you gifts, so glad you enjoyed it. 💋

#love notes #mota asks

5 notes · View notes

impala-dreamer · 4 years

Text

When You Break The Rules

SPN FanFic

~A slip of the tongue at a panel lands you in some hot water with Mr. Collins backstage.~

Misha x Reader, Brianna, Kim, Ruth, Rich, OFC

2,079 Words

Warnings: NSFW! Dom!Misha, Sub!Reader. Spanking. Smut. Awesome.

A/N: This was a commission piece requested by a top-tier patreon. I really hope you all enjoy!

My Masterlist ~ Become A Patreon ~ Find My Original Works on Amazon

Another weekend, another convention, another panel with the girls.

You sat on stage, ankles crossed like a lady, knees peeking out from beneath the hem of your sundress. It was hot, too hot for jeans, especially under those stage lights, and besides, your lover liked to see your calves.

No one else seemed to notice or care about your unusually fancy attire, too focused on Brianna and Kim having a fiery debate over which Winchester would have been with which sheriff. That was just fine with you, it was entertaining to watch them bicker even though you knew they’d give the standard answer: Jody and Sam, Donna and Dean.

To your left, Ruthie cleared her throat into the microphone and raised a heavily painted brow. “Excuse me! Why does no one ever ask who Rowena should be with?”

Her angry pout made the audience laugh and Kim jumped all over it.

“Well, who would Rowena be with?” she laughed as she turned towards Ruthie.

Bright red lips smiled coyly. “Samuel, obviously.”

Kim’s face dropped with annoyance and she crossed her arms, popping a denim-clad hip. “Oh, now we have to fight.”

Instantly, Brianna was at Kim’s side, comically holding her back as Kim lunged forward, growling at Ruthie. The tiny redhead looked to you for help but you shrugged and threw your hands up, laughing into the mic.

“Hell no, I’m not getting involved here. No way!”

That was the exact wrong move, for the dueling trio turned to you, ready to attack. Thankfully, Brianna was able to wrangle Kim in, and the fiasco was averted.

“Moving on…” Brianna sang, flamboyantly waving at the next fan in line waiting to speak. “Hey. How are ya, who are ya, where ya from?”

The tiny purple-haired teen looked up at Bri in awe, nearly drooling at the sight of her bare midriff. “I-I’m Lisa-”

“Hi, Lisa! Nice to meet you!” Brianna smiled brightly and the girl nearly fainted. “You got a question for me?”

Lisa nodded shyly and swallowed down a wave of fear. “It’s for everyone. If you could have kissed anyone on the show, who would you want to kiss?”

Kim hummed into her mic. “Oh…”

Ruthie grinned devilishly and tapped her cheek, deep in thought.

You shivered and tried to hide your nerves. This was the exact sort of question you hated answering. There was never a right answer.

Brianna and Kim looked at each other and smirked, answering in unison. “Jensen.”

The crowd cheered, seeming to agree.

Ruthie knocked her head side to side, unable to decide. “Well, you know, I did rather enjoy smooching Richard…”

“Did someone say my name?”

The Trickster himself appeared from behind the curtain, summoned by Ruthie’s answer. You breathed a sigh of relief, grateful that time was up and you wouldn’t have to answer.

You were wrong once again.

“Y/N, what’s your answer?” Richard asked, rounding the line of chairs to stand next to Ruthie and drape an arm around his friend. “You’re awful quiet.”

Embarrassment churned in your gut. “Oh, I don’t know guys, I can’t choose. Everyone’s so beautiful.”

Before anyone could move on and end the panel, a fan in the front row shouted up to the stage. “You got to kiss Sam!”

Which, was true. The character you played on Supernatural had, in fact, made out a bit with Sam Winchester in the episode right before Dean accidentally killed you. Still, it wasn’t really an answer you could give.

“That’s true…” you agreed, praying Richard and the band would cut you off and the universe would have some mercy.

“And?” Kim pressed.

“And… Sam’s a… pretty good kisser,” you said, much to everyone’s joy.

Kim couldn’t let it rest and leaned in. “So, Jared is too?”

Heat filled your face and you bit your lip, sure that you were going to get in trouble either way.

“Yeah,” you nodded, smirking at the crowd. “He sure is.”

To say that the auditorium went crazy was an understatement, but all you could hear was your heart pounding; all you could see was one face out in the back of the theater, one face blazing with anger.

Misha grabbed your arm as you left the stage, practically dragging you off of your feet before you knew what was happening. You knew better than to question it, so you let him pull you down the service hallway and into a dark conference room.

Your pulse was racing when he let go of you, shoving you into the room before slamming the door shut behind him.

He turned, face contorted in special anger; blue eyes narrow, right brow raised.

“What did you think you were doing up there?” he asked, voice like gravel as he flipped on the light.

Swallowing hard, you batted your eyes and tried to give your most innocent smile. “What do you mean?”

Misha wasn’t buying it. He stormed forward, chin down, eyes tight on yours. “You. Talking about kissing Jared. I saw you.”

Despite his expression, you laughed. “Misha- I was just- that was just a question. I was only doing my job. Ya know, entertaining the masses.”

His upper lip twitched as he grit his teeth and growled. “Your job is not to embarrass me. Your job is to be mine.”

Anticipation and nervous energy swirled in your belly. “I’m...I’m sorry.”

He rushed at you in a blur, big hand curling around your back to grab a fistful of hair. “Not yet,” he assured you, teeth gnashing with jealous rage. “But you will be.” He let you go forcefully and you stumbled backward a step, knocking into the long oval conference table. Misha rolled up the sleeves of his blue sweater. “Turn around, girl. You need to be punished.”

A lustful haze overtook you and your eyes rolled just a bit. “Y-yes, Sir.” Before the words faded in the air, you had spun around and planted your palms on the polished oak table. Your bend wasn’t deep enough and Misha placed his big hand between your shoulder blades, pushing you forward until your tits smashed against the table.

Your breath fogged the shining tabletop as Misha ran his hand down your spine, all the way until he hit the hem of your dress.

“You wearing panties today, little girl?” he asked; tips of his fingers ghosting the back of your thigh.

Your voice shook when you answered. “Yes, Sir. I had to. I-I was on stage.”

Misha shook his head in disappointment. “Too bad.” His hand curled around the skirt and yanked it up, exposing your panties and lower back to the room. “I hope you didn’t like these.”

Two firm rips later, your underwear lay in shreds on the ugly navy carpet. Cool air hit your pussy and you realized then just how wet he was making you. A moan left your lips before you could catch it.

“Oh, my little slut likes this?” Misha asked, dragging his right hand down over the globe of your ass.

“Yes, Sir,” you whispered in reply. “Feels good.”

“Does it?”

A crack filled the silence of the room as Misha spanked you, nice and hard, on the right. You gasped as the tingling pain spread across your cheek and sank deep inside, your flesh absorbing the heat of it.

“Yes,” you moaned, knowing that not answering him would lead to a worse punishment.

“Good.”

Another slap, harder this time, burned his handprint into your skin. You bit your lip to keep from crying as his hand came down in the exact same spot once more.

“Bad girls break the rules,” he reminded you, continually whacking your tender flesh. “When you break the rules, you get punished.” Each snap of his wrist made your heart skip and your eyes roll; your body was shaking under his reprimand, leaking with arousal. “You don’t want to be a bad girl, do you?”

“No, S-s-sir!” It was hard to think, hard to speak, hard to do anything but take each blow and drag it deep inside, let your body swallow it down. Your cunt was aching, dripping, begging for release, but the hits kept coming.

Side to side he moved, making sure to cover the most sensitive spots, knowing you would feel him the rest of the day. Every time you sat down, any time someone bumped into you, there would be a silent hiss and your eyes would grow wider; remembering your punishment, remembering his hands on you.

“Are you ready to be my good girl again, Y/N?” Another crack on the left and a soothing rub.

“Yes, Sir! Please! Wanna be your good girl!”

Misha leaned down, covering your back and pressing you into the hard table. “I’m not so sure.” His teeth caught your ear and you whimpered pitifully.

“I-I’m sorry,” you prayed, barely able to breathe with his weight on top of you.

“Are you?”

A deep shiver ran through you as his voice filled your mind. “Yes!” you pleaded. “Yes, I’m so sorry. I’m yours. Always. No more Jared talk I swear!”

“Then cum.”

“What?”

Misha stood up and you gasped as the air filled your lungs. “If you’re so sorry, then cum,” he said again. “Right now. I want to feel it.”

As you took your next breath, Misha shoved his hand between your thighs and pressed his palm up against your cunt, pressing hard. Every muscle was tense and you could feel each line of his hand against your wetness, feel the heat from his skin. With his free hand, he slapped your ass once more and you came, feeling the balloon pop instantly. It was small but the stream of pleasure rolled through you, making your shoulders shake and your jaw drop in a heavy pant.

Satisfied by the flood against his hand, Misha grinned and tapped your hip. “Good. Now, spread your legs nice and wide.”

Your feet moved without a thought, shuffling over the carpet to spread yourself open for him.

Misha dropped his zipper and let his jeans hang around his thighs. “There’s my girl.” He was inside before you could blink, slamming deep inside your pulsing cunt without an ounce of hesitation. He felt like heaven after the beating, felt so good to be filled up by his familiar heft, but his thighs slapping against your ass burned. He rode you into the table, belt buckle stinging your sore backside; rough denim scratching your aching thighs. It was heaven and hell suddenly, and you couldn’t think for the pleasure building inside again.

Misha came, slamming you hard into the edge of the table, surely bruising your belly. You could feel the press of his firm thighs, the explosion of heat, his heavy breath raining down upon you. He stayed there even as he came down, letting your pussy convulse around him as long as it could.

“Have you learned a lesson, baby girl?” His palm slid up your back as he leaned over you once more.

Dazed and happy, shaking and sleepy, you answered in a rambling string of words that passed no filter, they just were. “Yes, sir. Yes. I promise to behave. Always.”

“Good.” He kissed the nape of your neck and nuzzled in for a brief moment, breathing you in, holding you tight.

Finally, he moved away and you stood up; legs and back aching from the long-held position. “Wow,” you commented with a lazy smile. “That was...wow.” Your hair was a mess, but you did the best you could, brushing it back from your sweaty face.

Misha smiled sweetly as he righted his outfit, taking care to retuck his undershirt and adjust the sleeves of his sweater.

The big clock on the wall gave made you startle. “Shit! I have like ten mins before photos. I gotta go get cleaned up.” You shivered to clear your head and then took a step towards the door, ready to sneak out and find a restroom.

Before your second step, Misha’s hand shot out and took hold of your wrist, pulling you back. “No,” he growled. “I want my cum dripping out of you in front of all those fans.” His eyes were filled with the devil and you shuddered at the thought. “I want them all to suspect, to smell it on you. You’re mine.”

You swallowed hard as you stared up at your Sir, nodding in absolute obedient compliance.

“Yes, Sir. Only Yours.”

2020 Forever Tags: @67-chevy-baby @akshi8278 @akhuna01 @amanda-teaches @because-imma-lady-assface @blondemarvelchick @blushingjared @broiderie @burningcoffeetimetravel @classic-rock-angel @cosicas-cuquis @covered-byroses @crashdevlin @deansgirl215 @deans-baby-momma @deangirl7695 @deanwanddamons @deanwinchesterswitch @defenderrosetyler @dolphincliffs @dontshootmespence @edge-oftonight @emoryhemsworth @fandom-princess-forevermore @feelmyroarrrr @flamencodiva @focusonspn @herbologystudent252 @heycasbutt @hornyandsmol @ilovefanfic86 @i-love-superhero @ilsawasanacrobat @imjustadrummer @ivvitm1109 @joseyrw @justagirlinafandomworld @justcallmeasmodeus @katymacsupernatural @laxe-from-outer-space @leatherandfrackles @lessons-of-red @letsby @letsdisneythings @lonewolf471 @maddiepants @mariekoukie6661 @meganwinchester1999 @missjenniferb @mrswhozeewhatsis @mummybear @onethirstyunicorn @our-jensen-ackles-love @screechingartisancashbailiff @spn-dean-and-sam-winchester @starboycas @stephaniecanfield96us @stoneyggirl @squirrelnotsam @thebookisbtr @thehardcoveraddict @thevelvetseries @veevm @winchestersister55 @wendibird @winecatsandpizza @winterpoohbear

#misha x reader #spn fanfic #smut #one shot #misha collins x reader

147 notes · View notes

calpalirwin · 4 years

Text

Expecting

Summary: Luke becomes a dad

A/N: So @cxddlyash and I made these like comic book character pictures. And I thought it was funny how the text we put for ourselves went together like we personally were having a conversation. And it’s good dialogue I didn’t want to waste. So here’s a sequel to Period Pains that no one asked for just so I can use 2 lines of dialogue that really have nothing to do with the actual “plot” of whatever cute shit this is.

Content: Soft cuz you know no one does it better than your gal(cal) Bri

Word Count: 1.5k

And away, and away we go!

“Hey, Lu?” Caroline asked.

“Hmm?” Luke hummed in response over the rim of his coffee cup.

“Remember how back a few months ago, you joked there was a way to stop my periods?”

He set down his cup with a shaky rattle. “What about it?” he croaked.

“I’m two weeks late…”

He gripped his hands tightly together to control the shaking, forcing himself to stay calm. “H-have you taken a test?”

“Yep. Took one just now, actually.”

“A-and?”

“It’s on the bathroom counter.”

Caroline wasn’t sure she had ever seen the man move faster. In fact, she wasn’t sure someone like Luke could move that fast without tripping over his long limbs. When Luke’s scream shook the house, she slowly made her way to him. “Good yell or bad yell?”

When he turned, his blue eyes were glossy with held back tears, his curls disheveled from his hands passing through them so many times in the last minute. “Is this the only test you’ve taken?”

She shook her head. “I’ve been taking one every day for a week.”

“And they all say the same thing? They all say yes?”

“Yeah.”

“YES!” Luke’s voice cracked as it went high too fast. He rushed across to her, tears falling freely down their faces as excitement took over and they jumped up and down screaming. “Oh,” Luke spoke softly when he caught his breath, his fingers soft against her cheeks. “I love you so much, Care.”

She tilted her head in his touch, lips brushing against the palms of his hands. “We love you too, Lu. Can I ask you one thing?”

“Anything, baby.”

“I know we’re both excited, but can we keep this to ourselves for a bit?” Her question held all the fears she didn’t want to speak into existence. Fears about their loved ones getting too invested like they already were when she was too early along for anything to be certain.

Luke placed a gentle kiss to her forehead. “Of course.”

~~~

It was hard on both of them to not shout their news from the rooftops with each passing doctor’s appointment that assured them their baby was developing right on schedule. Caroline and Luke passed the first three months combining her office with his music room, and then discussing how to decorate the newly freed up space.

“What do you think of this?” Caroline asked, sliding her laptop around so he could see the teal and grey nursery template.

Luke set his guitar aside and peered over at the screen. “You don’t want to go with something brighter? Something that will get their attention?”

“You know babies can’t really see color that well for the first few months, right?”

“They don’t?”

“Have you read any of the books?”

“Yeah!” he answered with fake indignation.

“Mhm, which ones?”

“The one with all the names…” he admitted with a sheepish grin.

Her eyes lit up. “Did you find one you like?”

“I found a lot of the ones you like,” he teased, referring to how the book was filled with blue-inked hearts next to yellow highlighted names.

“And?”

“What do you think about Charlie Hemmings?”

“Oh, that one’s my favorite!”

“Ready to tell everybody about Charlie?”

“So ready.”

They told their parents first, swearing them to secrecy until it was publicly announced. Within a week, a giant care package was delivered on their doorstep, courtesy of both their moms conspiring together.

From there, the parents-to-be decided to tell the godparents. Luke had suggested Ashton for godfather, while Caroline suggested her childhood friend Britt for godmother.

“But they’re not together. Are you sure we shouldn’t go with Mike and Crystal?” Luke wondered.

“It’s Ash and Britt. They’ll get together.”

“Care, you’ve been saying that since they met.”

“Well if Ash would pull his head out of his ass…”

“If Britt could string more than two words together around him…”

Caroline laughed. Neither of them were wrong. Their two dearest friends were… rather stubborn when it came to each other. “We don’t have to decide this now. We can just tell all our friends, and figure out godparents later.”

“No,” Luke shook his head. “I trust Britt and Ash.”

~~~

“Care?” Britt’s voice called out as she pushed open the door to her friends’ home. “Luke?”

“You invited Britt?” Ashton asked, raising an eyebrow at the woman’s voice. “Is everyone else coming over, too? What’s going on here?”

“I know you’re home,” Britt continued to talk as she walked deeper into the house. “Your cars are in th- oh! Hey, Ash.” Her voice squeaked as she caught sight of the black haired man sitting comfortably on the couch.

“Hey, love,” he greeted with a two-fingered wave that caused the woman’s cheeks to turn pink. “Did Care tell you what these two idiots are up to?”

Britt shook her head as she sat down next to him. “N-no.” She turned her attention to Caroline, her friend’s ever steady and soft gaze stilling her nerves she felt whenever she was in Ashton’s presence. “Care, what’s going on?”

Caroline’s cheeks burned from holding back her smile as she looked over at Luke. “Tell ‘em, Care.”

“We’re pregnant!” She clapped her hands over her mouth as the words tumbled forth much less eloquently than she had planned in her excited state.

“Oh, that’s great!” Britt squealed with her.

“Congrats,” Ashton smiled, reaching forward to give Caroline’s leg a small squeeze. “But that could’ve been a text.”

“We want you to be the godparents,” Luke spoke up.

Ashton choked, his hazel eyes flying over to Luke. “What?”

“Uh, a word, Care?” Britt asked, rubbing her neck.

The women left Ashton staring slack-jawed at Luke. “What’s wrong?” Caroline asked, worrying her bottom lip.

“You can’t do this to me…” her friend whispered frantically, looking over her shoulder at where Ashton was still coming to terms with the news that had been dropped in his lap.

“Aw, are you jealous?” Caroline teased good-heartedly.

“Yes!” Britt hissed. “No! I’m happy for you and Luke. But making me godmother with Ash as godfather? What the hell do you think you’re doing, Care?”

“What you and Ash are too scared to do yourselves.”

“I can barely be in the same room with him without sounding like an idiot. Now I’m gonna share your kid with him?!”

“Oh, would you relax? Luke and I aren’t dropping dead. This is just a symbolic title.”

“One I share with Ash!”

“Would you rather share it with someone else?”

“No!” Britt answered far too quickly.

Caroline grinned. “That’s what I thought.”

~~~

“You okay?” Luke asked, concern lacing his tone as Caroline gasped.

She took a few deep, slow breaths, her face pinched in pain. “Another contraction,” she winced.

Luke gripped her hand in his, squeezing lightly. “You got this, baby. I’m right here.”

“Lu?” she panted, sweat coating her face, tears prickling in the corners of her eyes.

“Yeah?”

“This is so much worse than period pains…”

“I know, baby, I know,” he soothed, using his free hand to push back her hair and wipe away some of the sweat.

“No, you don’t!” she hissed through gritted teeth, her fingernails digging small crescent shapes into his hand. “You don’t have a uterus that throws a fit every month unless you’re growing a human inside of it. A human you then have to push out of you!”

“You doing so good, Care,” he smiled a smile that has rarely left his lips the last 39 and a half weeks. A smile that bore nothing but total admiration for the girl by his side and complete amazement for the life they were creating.

“Ow…” she whimpered, loosening her grip as the contraction passed.

“Where does it hurt the most?”

“My back…”

“Here, sit up, and scooch forward,” Luke told her, standing up from where he had been sitting on the edge of the hospital bed. Caroline did as he directed as he squeezed himself in behind her, stretching out his legs on the outside of hers. “Try to relax as much as you can,” his voice remained soft and low as he started to rub at her back. He stayed that way, with her back pressed against his chest, alternating between rubbing at her back and her arms, always whispering reassurances in Caroline’s ear until there was a small cry and a bundle was placed in her awaiting arms.

“Oh, hi there, Charlie.” Tears ran a path down both their cheeks as Caroline cradled the baby close to her, Luke’s hand reaching over her to gently run a thumb over Charlie’s soft cheek.

“There are so many people waiting to meet you,” she cooed.

“They can wait a little longer,” Luke said, holding his family close to him.

“At least get Britt and Ash in here.”

“Shouldn’t you get some rest first?”

“Oh, please, Lu?” Caroline pleaded, turning her head upwards to look at him. “I feel fine, I promise. I want them to meet him.”

“Alright,” he gave in. “Scoot forward so I can get out.”

Caroline lost herself in the dark grey eyes of her son, with his little pixie nose and soft curls, until Britt’s gasped “Aww!” filled her ears.

She looked up to see the other woman, hand in hand with Ashton, grinning so wide, Caroline’s own cheeks hurt just looking at her friends. “Well, come meet Charlie. We’ve been expecting you.”

Tag List

@frontmanash @goeatsomelife @flameraine @creator-appreciator @cxddlyash @1-irwin-94 @sparkling-calm @tea4sykes @youngblood199456 @5-seconds-of-obsession @gosh-im-short @aquarius-hood1996 @talkfastromance4 @itjustkindahappenedreally @philthepegacorn @boomerash @teenwolfss24

#expecting #luke hemmings #luke hemmings fic #basic ass title #5sos #galcal irwin

24 notes · View notes

brashierc · 5 years

Text

Baby Brash

July 13th, his 20th birthday. That night was the reason why you were here today. If that night wouldn’t have happened you wouldn’t have peed on a stick this morning, it wouldn’t have been positive and you wouldn’t be sitting on the bed at your OBGYN’s clinic awaiting for her results.

You’ve been best friends with Connor since you both were 7. That was 13 years of friendship. 13 years of listening to him go on about photography, 13 years of supporting him and his dreams no one else really supported when he first got started in high school.

It was also 13 years of being asked how long you two had been in a relationship.

Girls and boys can be best friends without falling in love. Or well, that’s what you always said to everyone when they asked. You’d been in love with Connor since you were 17, but you knew he’d never feel the same, so you kept that feeling pushed way back into your brain.

Connor was there for you through every boyfriend, just like you were for his girlfriends. The heartbreak and the first time discussions after the fact.

“Alright,” The Doctor walks in after tapping on the wooden door with her knuckle twice. “So your positive was correct, you are pregnant.”

You sighed, shoulders sinking. “Really?”

“Yep, really really pregnant.” She smiles, handing you a few brochures. “Let’s go over your options.”

You look up with wide eyes, horror running through your veins and emotions.

“Let’s not, thanks Doc, but I’m already attached to this kid, and if you knew the Dad you would be too.”

She smiles, nodding but telling you to take the brochures just in case.

She refers you to one of her colleagues who’s an Obstetrician with her practice and can take you through your pregnancy and birth.

You take the information she gave you and leave with a small smile and a polite wave goodbye to her front office receptionist. Once you’re back in your car you let the new totally settle in.

You were having a baby, with Connor, at age 19 and 20. Super cool.

On Connor’s birthday everything went a little crazy. Shawn threw a rager, wanting to celebrate his newest addition to his team, and his friend who was turning the big 2 0. He flew you out to where they were so you could be there to celebrate and surprise Connor.

Everyone went a little crazy, everyone.

Brian was so blacked out that he took Alessia back to his room with him, forgot that he invited her in, and called Shawn from the bathroom freaking out that she’d followed him home. (Even though we were all in the same hotel)

Shawn was the only one that didn’t go hard. Knowing he had shows and other obligations like filming music videos and meeting up with Chance the Rapper. He supervised, and not well, but had a blast watching everyone be stupid and make fools of themselves.

Connor was a clingy needy drunk, so throughout the night he just became more and more glued to your side. He hadn’t seen you in months, and missed you so much. It all started when he wanted to dance to the slow songs with you, hands on your hips, holding you close. You fell into his embrace, missing being held in such a way, and feeling so safe with Connor. He planted a few kisses to your neck, and one just behind your ear learning very quickly that that was your weak spot.

After you let out a shaky moan of his name, tucking your fingers into his hair, you were a goner. You both quickly found your way back to his room, falling on the bed nakedly exploring the other between the sheets.

By morning? You both swore to never speak of it again, pretend like nothing happened, and move on. Everything was normal, it literally was like nothing happened. He still picked on you, you still gave him shit in front of the guys, but you both were still there for the other in ways no one else could be.

You clicked on his contact; ‘Bri’s lil bitch C David Brash”

Brian really changed Connor’s name in your phone to the best thing you’d ever seen, you wouldn’t dare change it.

“Whattup?” He answered on the third ring, and suddenly, you’re emotional.

“Hey,” You choke out, looking around trying to distract your brain.

“What’s wrong?” His side of the phone shuffles, and becomes marginally quieter.

“Nothing,” You whisper, “What are you doing?”

“I’m talking to you, tell me what’s wrong?”

“It’s nothing Con.”

“You’re upset though, I can hear it.”

“When do you come home again?”

“I come home next week, I have to meet my counselor and then register for classes. I get into town on Monday, and I leave Friday.”

You nod, knowing full well he can’t see you. “Can we meet on Monday?”

You need to tell him, and you won’t keep this a secret from him longer than you have too.

“Um yeah, I fly in at like 8, wanna meet for coffee and breakfast or something?”

“Yeah perfect.”

“Okay…..? Ready to tell me what’s wrong yet?” He asks.

You sigh, “I should let you go, you’re probably busy.”

“No, hey,” He protests. “I wanna talk, I miss you.”

You smile, insides running warm when you hear his voice say those words. “I miss you too Baby Brash.”

You can hear him sigh and you can practically see him rolling his eyes. “So you watched the newest video?”

“Of course I did, got your post notifications on.”

“No you don’t.”

“No you’re right, I don’t, I have Shawn’s on.”

At this he laughs, like a snort and everything and it makes you feel good, to be able to get him to laugh like that again, to hear that laugh.

“Brashier, we gotta go!” Brian yells at him in the background.

“You’re literally standing behind me, why you gotta yell?”

“Because I felt like pissing you off.” Brian snickers. “Who you on the phone with? Gots a girlyfriend?” Something must happen on Connor’s side of the phone because suddenly all you can hear is boys yelling.

“Connor that’s the fourth girl you’ve been on the phone with today!”

“There is no hot sex going on over here!”

“PASS THE WEED MAN!”

“Shut the fuck up!” Connor’s voice is back, “Jesus it’s just Y/n, could you…?”

“But we wanna say hi!” Shawn and Brian whine.

You giggle and blush a little at the attention.

Connor shuffles the phone, and then you can barely hear him, he’s really muffled but you make it out. “She’s upset about something, so could you fucking leave for a minute. I was getting her to talk and then you fuckers walked in.” A few seconds later and he’s back crystal clear. “Okay they left, you still there Honey?”

“You didn’t need to kick them out.”

“But I wanna talk to you.”

“They just wanted to say hi.”

“But you’re my best friend.” He whines, “They’d steal all your attention.”

“You need to go, I’ll see you next week okay?”

“Okay, love you kid.” He says softly.

“Love you too Brash.”

He walks in, looking all nerdy cute, face down into his phone.

iMessage from Bri’s lil bitch C David Brash: Im here where u is

“If you ever looked up from your phone you’d know I’m here too Bitch.” You say from your table, laughing when he jumps and looks over at you.

“You scared the shit out of me.” He laughs, smiling really wide when you stand and give him a big hug. “Fuck I missed you Kid.” He sighs into your neck, letting your scent relax his stressed out mind.

“Missed you too.”

He takes the seat across from you, thanking you for the coffee you already had ordered and sat in front of his seat on the table. He takes a sip as you take a deep breath and shut your eyes to give yourself that last push of encouragement.

“Connor?”

“Yeah?”

“I’m pregnant.” You blurt.

It’s then that you realize your eyes are still closed, opening them one at a time to see his reaction. It’s comical almost, the sight of him, jaw dropped, eyes bugging, body frozen.

You give it a moment, a second to really settle into his brain, you needed to do the same when you found out. Hell, you’re still doing that.

He clears his throat, shakes his head a bit, but his eyes continue to flare out at you.

“Excuse me?” He croaks.

“I’m pregnant,” You nod, watching him nod with you. “And it’s yours.”

He hums, and continues to stare at you. You take a sip of your decaf coffee, wincing at the weird taste.

“Fuck man, I don’t know if I can handle 9 months of decaf, that shit is gross as hell.”

This seems to snap Connor out of whatever daze he was in.

“You’re being real right now?” He looks around, “Is Brian here filming me? Is this a prank or something? You got me, you got my reaction, turn it off now.”

You sigh, worried he would think something like that. You just sit there, staring at him.

“You’re being real?!?” He says with persistence in his voice, leaning closer to you.

“That night we swore to never speak of again? Well, we’ll be talking for at least the next 18 years.” You shrug.

He’s still in shock, just staring at you with a glazed over glance. You just nod and smile a little at him, trying to coax him through his shock.

“I-” He gapes, “Um, we...I...condom!”

You giggle, shaking your head at him while rolling your eyes. “Really? That’s what you’re gonna do? Blurt ‘condom’ out like it’ll fix everything?”

“But I used one!” He’s becoming defensive. Snapping at you in ways he’s done in the past when he’s stressed to the brim and can’t control his emotions. You can count the amount of times snapped at you on one hand.

“They’re only 98% effective, if that, Connor. Or maybe it broke or something. It happened, and I’m pregnant.”

“No! We can’t, a baby?”

You take a deep breath, trying to tell yourself that he’s just in shock and that he’s gonna be happy about this, someday. He doesn’t mean the way he’s reacting right now.

“How are you calm right now?” He asks in shrill.

“I don’t know Connor, life happens. It’s not perfect but we’ll figure it out.” You shrug, raising your voice a little to match his level.

“Fucking shit,” He tugs at his hair, face grimancing as he groans.

You sigh, grabbing your purse, collecting your phone and coffee and stand to leave. His head whips up when you stand, and he watches as you straighten out your shorts before starting to walk away.

“No, don’t go.” He pleads.

“Talk to me when this settles Connor. I can’t be here to watch you freak out. My hormones are all sorts of fucked up right now and I’m trying to stay positive about this whole thing but your reaction isn’t helping.”

He gets up and follows you out of the coffee shop, racing to meet you at your car before you can leave.

“Wait, talk to me, please.” He blocks your door so you can’t close it.

You look up, tears in your eyes that tear his heart apart. “We really did turn into Ross and Rachel huh? Just like everyone said throughout high school. Except we won’t end up together, we’ll always be the Ross and Rachel before they got together.”

He shakes his head, “I’m your lobster.”

Connor sits on your couch three days later. This was the first chance he’d been able to actually come over, any other conversations have been over the phone or text message since your meeting at the coffee shop.

It’s kind of awkward, the both of you sitting in silence as you try to not bring up the elephant in the room.

“I’m sorry,” You clear your throat, wincing as you lean forward and start this conversation. “I’m sorry that I up and left you on Monday. That wasn’t cool. I dropped a big ass bomb on you, something we would have never expected in a million years, and then just got up and left you alone. My hormones are whacked out right now but that’s not an excuse. So I’m sorry for being a shitty friend and making you go through that shock alone.”

“Hey,” He shakes his head, turning towards you on the couch, scooting closer. “Don’t be sorry. I was kind of being a jackass. I shouldn’t have flipped out like that.”

You sigh, smiling up at him. “I missed you, a lot.”

His hand falls on top of yours, fingers intertwining. “I missed you so much, you have no idea.” He sighs, letting his eyes rake over you for a moment, imagining what you’ll look like with a baby bump. “How the hell am I supposed to leave for tour?”

“Just go, I’m not due until May. You’ll be back in December, that’s plenty of time.”

“You’re pregnant, I want to be here for appointments, picking out and setting up the crib, cravings, all of it!”

You smile, reaching over and caressing his cheek. “Then talk to Shawn, sit down with Cez, explain it to Brian because he’ll lose his shit if you leave him without a solid reason behind it. We’ll figure it out, and make do.” You shrug.

He nods, leaning into your hand a little. “You always make everything better.”

“That’s because I know you Connor David,” You tap his cheek twice, “I know how to handle you.”

He grins, rolling his eyes before flopping back into the corner of your couch he’s claimed as his. “Have you told your mom yet?” He asks, throwing your fluffy white and black throw blanket over his lap.

“No,” You sigh, kicking your feet up and relax across from him on your sectional. He smirks as you take a breath, reaching over and grabbing your feet to give you a foot massage. “What are you doing?”

“Gotta get used to pampering you, might as well get a head start.” He murmurs. “Are you scared to tell your mom?”

“I mean not really. It’s not the ideal situation I was hoping for when I thought about having kids. But like, I can’t complain. I’m honored to have your kid Con, I think I got lucky when it comes to the baby daddy part of this.”

He tilts his head, looking over at you with a blush on his cheeks.

“I guess you could say I got pretty lucky with the baby mama part.” He mutters, watching you from under his lashes, grinning when you roll your eyes and throw your head back to hide the apparent blush forming across your cheeks.

Your guest bedroom that once used to be your small library and office area has now been bombarded with camera gear, a full sized bed covered in basic grey sheets and a black comforter.

Connor spoke with Shawn and Cez the first chance he had when he got back to tour. He explained the situation, as awkward and unexpected it is, and expressed his need to be home more for you and his unborn child.

Both were very understanding to him and his needs, granting him a week off a month ensuring that he’d still be able to get enough footage but also time at home. It also gave Shawn and the crew a moment of peace and not having to worry about cameras so much, not that Connor is like the crazy paps.

But now that Connor will be home once a month it made sense that he move into your spare room instead of having to stay with his parents or pay for a place he really wouldn’t see all that often. It was the perfect set up, to be there and help you when you need it.

You two were still adjusting to living together, or with another human (of the different sex).

You walked into the apartment from class, stopping short when the first thing you saw in your kitchen was Connor, in only his black Calvins.

“Bro,” You shield your eyes setting your backpack on your bar stool, “Can you wear pants?”

Connor looks over at the sound of your voice, a slice of cheese between his fingers, munching on a bite. He looks down, and then back up to you holding a hand over your eyes.

“I’m in boxers, I’m not naked.”

“No one wants to see your dick though,” You shake your head, grinning as you say, “Been there, done that.”

He chuckles, leaning closer to you and peeling your hands away from your eyes so you can see his smug smile. “You weren’t complaining then.”

Your jaw drops and you blush as he raises an eyebrow at you. “Well,” You stutter, “I mean,” He smiles, getting the best reaction out of you. “Shut up, go put clothes on!” You smack his arm shooing him to his room.

You both were getting really good and creative with ways to hiding your pregnancy. The only people who knew were the team, and family. Not even friends from your high school knew.

The issue with hiding this was the fact that Connor was gaining a lot of attention from Shawn’s fans. You didn’t blame them, no matter what brought them to become a fan of his, it at least brought more attention to his work and was getting him that much more popular. This just meant that you had to take hiding your pregnancy to a whole new level.

For a while you were able to just wear some big sweatshirts to cover the smallest bump you had. When sweatshirts weren’t able to work so much you then resorted to really flowy shirts and a big purse you could always swing in front of your belly.

There was even one time that Connor and the whole crew were in town. They had invited you to lunch since no one had seen you since Connor told everyone. But at the end of lunch the manager came to tell the group that the paparazzi had followed Shawn and his own lunch date.

You were panicked while everyone just rolled their eyes and grumbled about how someone had probably called them so pictures of Shawn and his date could be taken. You looked to Connor and gulped as he laughed with Brian about a meme he was showing him.

“Y/n, you okay?” Shawn asked from across the table.

He was always so kind, and it boggled your mind how he could always see everyone, even when there were thousands in front of him, he could see everyone and notice every mood change.

Connor looked over after Shawn’s question and noticed your worried expression.

“Um, I’m,” You looked down at your shirt that very clearly showed off your small baby bump. “We haven’t told-”

“Oh shit,” Connor mumbled now noticing what you were referring too. “Fuck they’re gonna get pictures of us.” He looked to Shawn.

“I totally forgot,” Shawn rubs his forehead. “I’m so sorry you guys.”

“Do you have anything to like hide behind?” Brian asked.

“No, I didn’t bring a jacket because it’s so nice out.” You shake your head.

“Actually,” Connor cringes, looking at Josiah. “Do you still have your pocket reflector?”

Josiah nods, handing it to Connor.

“We’ll head out first, and then you guys go with Brian and maybe they’ll won’t pay you much attention. We’ll take a walk down the block or something.” Shawn stands, giving you an apologetic smile before walking out with his date.

You look to Connor and Brian as Connor is unfolding the reflector that creates a decent sized circle. You just laugh out loud when he offers it to you.

“What?” He asks.

“What the fuck am I supposed to do with this?” You laugh taking it from him. “It definitely doesn’t look like I’m hiding anything.” You’re sarcastic tone makes the boys chuckle.

“Here,” Brian hands Connor an old disposable camera. “Pretend like you’re taking my picture as we walk to the car so it looks like she’s actually using it.”

You just laugh harder and so do the boys at this elaborate plan to cover your pregnant belly.

At 5 months your little one is now starting to move. You’re really uncomfortable at the moment, in the stages of dealing with pregnancy and the symptoms.

Tonight is no different, if anything, it’s worse. Baby Brash (literally) has the hiccups and it’s causing your belly to move every 30 seconds or so. So sleeping at the moment isn’t a reality. Finding a comfortable spot to fall asleep isn’t a reality either.

iMessage from Papa 👶: Stop moving, I can hear your bed springs, lord help our child when you get laid.

You rolled your eyes at Connor’s message. He changed his name in your phone when he finally saw what you had him under. He even changed your name in his phone to ‘Mama 👶’ with the baby emoji.

iMessage to Papa👶 : Tell your child to stop moving so much then

You watched as he read the message, but frowned a little when he didn’t start responding. You jumped when your bedroom door creaked open, revealing Connor in a worn white t shirt and plaid pajama pants.

“Hey you,” He crawls into your bed, shuffling under your covers with you. “Hey Kid,” He smiles, leaning down to plant a small kiss to your belly. “Stop moving in there so Mama can go to sleep. She’s keeping me up because you’re keeping her up.”

You roll your eyes again, glaring at him. “Really?”

“You told me to tell the kid.” He shrugs.

His hands have found their way to your belly, rubbing soothing circles in hopes of calming his baby down and lulling you to sleep.

You sigh and let your eyes flutter close.

“What hurts tonight?” He whispers.

“My hips and back.”

“Roll to your side for me.”

You do as told, and moan a little when he starts massaging at your tender hips. Your lower back is so tired and your hips are sore.

He keeps rubbing and tracing designs on your skin until your breathing evens out. He rolls away a little to go back to his room before your rolling towards him, and resting your head on his chest.

“Don’t go.” You whine.

His whole life flashed before his eyes when he got the call. His whole life.

That’s the only words running through his mind.

His whole life.

“What did she say?” Brian as he drove to the airport.

“She said that she was being transported to the hospital and because she’s pregnant they wanted to take her in for more testing just to double check that everything was okay.”

“And what happened again?”

“She was driving home from work, her light went green and she proceeded through the intersection when some dipshit in a fucking truck ran the red and hit the back of her car, sounds like it’s totaled but luckily he just hit her trunk, so she wasn’t hurt to much.”

“She’s okay though right?” Brian asked again.

“As far as I know, but I’ll keep you updated. Just tell everyone else for me okay?”

“Of course man. Just go take care of her and that Baby.”

Connor takes a shaky breath as he looks out the window.

“Connor,” Brian said, surprising him by using his full name. “You need to breathe.”

“My whole life was in that car Brian, my whole life was sitting in the driver's seat of that car, and-”

“You need to breathe Connor.”

“I’m trying!” He snaps at Brian, “But I’m freaking out! My girl and our baby were in an accident today and I’m not there with them! So please forgive me if I’m a little scared and panicked.”

“I know you are, you just gotta stay calm. Positive thoughts lead to positive outcomes.”

“You really need to stop doing that weird fucking yoga thing with Shawn. It’s changing you man.” Connor jokes, trying to lighten his own mood.

By the time Connor’s landed you’re already home and resting. He bursts into the apartment like a bat out of hell, slamming the door and flipping the lock before throwing his bag to the ground and racing to your room.

“Jesus, be a little louder why don’t you.” You comment when he falls into your room.

“Are you okay? What did the doctor say? Is our Bean okay?” He throws himself onto your bed, hands instantly searching for your ever growing bump.

“We’re okay.” You whisper, threading your fingers through his hair to calm him down. “I told you we were fine and that you didn’t need to come home.”

“Right,” He scoffs. “Like I was just gonna stay miles away from you after you’ve been in an accident.”

“But we’re okay! You’re parents, my parents, our siblings, everyone was there with me. Really we’re okay.”

“Okay, okay.” He nods, laying down with his head beside your big belly, rubbing and tapping at it, smiling when he feels a few kicks. “My Bean is kicking?” He looks up at you.

“Yeah, has been for a week or so.”

“Why didn’t you say so?”

“Well,” You frown, looking away. “To be honest I planned on pretending that the first time Bean kicked when you were home next was the first time so you didn’t feel like you were missing out on anything.”

Connor smiles at you, shaking his head and leaning up to plant a kiss to your cheek. “Thank you for planning to lie to me.”

You giggle, before shifting to sit up more. You reach for the papers on your bedside table and hand them to Connor.

“What’s this?” He asks, looking down. His face falls, frown dropping his lips eyes looking up at you. “What is this? Why are you handing me this?”

“I think we need to talk about it.” You shrug.

“Not right now.”

“Connor this is serious, it’s not just us anymore. We’re having a kid, we need to have a Will drawn up.”

“I understand that, but I don’t wanna talk about it right now.”

“Connor, in the event that something happens to one of us, we need to know what the other wants.”

“Stop, stop, stop talkin’ like that!”

“Connor,”

“Please,” He tugs at his hair, “Please not right now. I understand we need to know, I get that and we’ll have it drawn up but I don’t want to talk about it right now. All my nightmares came true today.” He looks at you with sad eyes. “I haven’t told you this, but lately I’ve been having a few nightmares that something happens to you and our Bean, and I’m not there to help you or protect you.” He shakes his head, eyes squeezed shut. “And that happened to me today. You both were in an accident, and I wasn’t here.”

“Connor,” You say again.

“I get it!” He snaps. “But I don’t like the thought of losing you okay? I’m fucking in love with you, and I don’t really have you, but I thought I lost you when I got that call. So can we stop talking like this for the day? Please? Please can you give my heart a moment?”

You stare up at him with wide eyes, your heart rate picking up at his words.

“You’re what?” You whisper, caressing his cheek.

“Huh?”

“You’re in love with me?”

His eyes go wide in panic now that he’s realized what he’s said.

“Are you being serious?”

“Yeah?” He nods.

“Why haven’t you said anything!” You slap his arm.

“I don’t know, you never-”

“I’ve been in love with you since Junior year!” You keep slapping his arm.

“Stop hitting me!” He grabs your hands, interlocking your fingers.

“You never said anything!” “Neither did you!” He responds.

Things were different now, you still hadn’t really said officially what you two were now, but it was this weird in between stage of best friend and boyfriend.

He would kiss you sometimes, and always hold your hand, he’d even let a few pet names slip, but when asked by others he still referred to you as his best friend.

It confused you to no end, because now that something changed he’s moved into your room, claiming that he would just sneak in every night anyway, and now you had room for a nursery.

“Babe?” He called from the nursery, seated criss cross on the ground, staring up at the ceiling while waiting for your response. “BABE?”

“What?” You call back, walking down the hall to the laundry room.

“Can you bring me a water?”

“Really? You can’t get it yourself?”

“I’m building the crib!”

“I’m doing your laundry!” You yell back, leaning against the dryer, rolling your eyes at his request.

“Please?” He asks softly. When you don’t respond he resorts to baby talk he knows you can’t resist. “Pweety Pwease? I’ll give you kisses.”

You groan, waddling down the hall to the kitchen, grabbing him a cucumber mint flow from the fridge, and grabbing yourself a watermelon lime one. You make your way to the nursery, throwing him the water before taking a seat in the new rocking chair Shawn bought you guys.

“How you doing there Pretty Mama?” He smiles looking over at you.

“I’m tired, and big.” You whine, looking down at your very pregnant belly.

“I think you look really pretty.” He blushes, looking back at the crib.

“You owe me kisses.” You pout.

“Do I?” He looks at you, “What if I was crossing my fingers?”

You gasp, furrowing your brows and crossing your arms across your chest. “That’s so mean. You’re pregnant best friend just waddled her way to the kitchen and back to bring you your precious water and you won’t give her kisses like you promised?”

He’s up on his knees crawling towards you. “Girlfriend.” He hums setting his hands on your thighs so he can lean closer.

“What?”

“You mean my pregnant girlfriend.” He corrects you.

“Do I?” You asked softly, biting your lip as you stare into those blue eyes.

“I sure hope so.” He whispers.

“Is that what I am? Your girlfriend?”

He pulls back a little, brows furrowing in confusion. “What do you mean? I thought-”

“Yeah me too but then you told the guy at the baby shop that I was your best friend.”

He sighs, hanging his head. “It’s so natural, or I don’t know, programmed in my head to introduce you that way. But I thought we turned into something more when we confessed.”

“Me too, but when you did that it through me off.”

“Babe,” He smiles, rubbing his hands up your legs, “We live together, we sleep in the same bed, we kiss, we love, we laugh, we fight, we’re pregnant.” He let’s his right hand wander to your belly. “I consider you my girlfriend. I hope you consider me your boyfriend.”

“I do.”

“So then why are you pouting?”

“Because I really want kisses.”

“Oh my goodness.” He laughs, leaning forward to cover your lips with his own. He kisses you deeply, pecking your lips three more times before pulling away. “Better?”

“For now.”

“Okay.” He laughs, shaking his head before going back to building the crib.

“Boyfriend?” You yell from the bedroom when you hear the door open.

“It’s Boyfriend and his friends!” Connor yells back. “Girlfriend?”

“Yes?”

“Where are you?”

You quickly finish tying the bow to his gift before making your way to the living room where Shawn and Brian are seated on the couch.

“Hey!” Shawn jumps up, giving you a hug before looking down to your belly. “Can I touch your belly?”

You laugh a little, “Yeah go ahead, thank you for asking.”

“Of course, it would be a little rude to just go ahead.” He says touching your belly.

“Can you tell that to the rest of the world?”

“Hey Bean!” Shawn says to your belly. “Uncle Shawn got you the coolest thing ever!” He says before running to the couch to show you a small guitar case.

“Shawn you didn’t.”

“I couldn’t help myself, I was looking for a new one and saw this little thing.” He pops the case open. “I’ll teach Bean how to play and everything!”

“There you are!” Connor smiles when he enters holding three beers and your favorite flow flavor. He walks up to you, planting a wet smooch to your lips before handing the boys their drinks.

“I have something for you.” You grin, holding up the little gift wrapped box.

“Oh yeah?” He takes it from you.

He unties the bow, rips the paper, and opens the box to reveal a small blue Polaroid camera.

“This is so cute,” He says holding it in his hand.

Shawn gasps and Brian stands up in excitement.

“Where’d you get this honey?”

“It doesn’t matter,” You wave him off, bouncing on your toes in excitement. “What color is it?”

“Blue?” He asks, looking up at you, and then over to the excited boys next to him that are punching the other in the arm.

“And blue is for what?” You pull it out of him.

“Blue is for….” He stares at you, “Blue is for boy.” His eyes light up. “Blue is for boy?”

“Blue is for boy!” You squeal.

“Oh my god! Blue is for boy!” He wraps you up in his arms, kissing your neck. “It’s a boy, we’re having a boy!”

“ITS A BOY!” Shawn and Brian cheer.

You groan in pain as you feel another contraction hit. You’ve been in labor for three hours now and your little boy does not want to come see the world.

Connor tries not to wince or complain about his hand he’s sure you’ve severely bruised. He breathes with you through the pain, running a soothing hand over your head and taking your matted hair back away from your forehead.

“There you go Baby.” He whispers, “You’re doing so good.”

“I love you Connor David,” You smile at him, “But I want to fucking kick you in the balls right now.”

He winces at the thought and shakes his head. “I’m sorry Baby,” He looks away. “I wish I could take your pain away, I wish it were me.”

“Me too.” You relax when the contraction stops.

“Still holding your hand?” The nurse smiles when she walks in to check on you. “You’re better than most Dad’s, they usually wimp out by now from the pain.”

“He never lets go, no matter what.” You smile up at Connor.

“You’re my lobster Baby,” He leans down to kiss your lips.

written by: @shawnm521

615 notes · View notes

coffee-obsessed-writer · 5 years

Text

When You Least Expect It, Part Thirteen

Jensen x Musician!Reader

Masterlist - Contains Chapter Links & Wardrobe Collages

A/N: This is a slow burn fic that I have been working on for a while. Its a story I wrote for myself and just wanted to share with everyone. Yes, the “Dee” in the story is who you think, but there is no intended hate on her or their actual marriage. It is a work of fiction, that is all. Part thirteen has parts from Both POVs. There is also a playlist to go along with the series.

Spotify Playlist:

Chapter Summary: Y/N arrives in San Diego. Between telling Jensen what happened at FBBC and experiencing life in the spotlight as his new girlfriend, Y/N finds she is more than ready to make some big life changes.

Chaper Warnings: Language, Ragey!Jensen

WC: 8.2K

Series Beta’d by the beautiful @closetspngirl

The plane bounced along the tarmac at San Diego International Airport and Y/N felt herself be able to breathe again. It had barely been a week since she’d seen Jensen but after the incident with Nathan the night before, and the subsequent questioning by the police, she needed him more than ever.

She thought of calling him and telling him everything by phone, but the idea left her cold. Jensen had wanted her in San Diego in the first place, and she should have just gone. But the stubborn woman that dwelled inside her couldn’t relent everything quite yet. As soon as she had decided to book a ticket, Detective Perkins arrived along with two marked cruisers and scoured the area searching for Nathan. Perkins arranged to put out an APB on him for the assault and intent to question about the break-in. Y/N told Perkins everything Nathan said but left out the part where he implied a woman’s involvement. She knew what he meant, but was keeping that information for herself for now.

Hours later, when Y/N was finally back at Jensen’s house and laying in the bed she now shared with him, her overwhelming need to be near him was almost too much. She eventually got up and went to the guest room, laying down with Briana and finally falling asleep as the sun began to rise. Now, merely an hour away from seeing Jensen, she felt relief and the ability to breathe easy again.

Briana had all the arrangements taken care of, including reaching out to Robbie to secure credentials for Y/N to get into Comic-Con and to where she could surprise Jensen. Bri made him swear on his children that he would keep the secret and help Y/N get to where she was going. Unfamiliar with the chaos that was a convention such as Comic-Con, Bri didn’t want her to navigate those waters alone.

Early the next afternoon, Y/N disembarked the plane and retrieved her checked bag, then found the driver that Robbie had sent for her. The car brought her directly to the convention center with the promise of dropping her luggage at the hotel where everyone was staying. She made her way to the Will Call booth, already overwhelmed by the enormity of the event but still excited to get a glimpse into Jensen’s world.

With a quick flash of her identification, she retrieved her All-Access Pass lanyard and drew in a deep breath of the Southern California air. It was just as hot as it was in Texas, but the excitement that swirled in the atmosphere around the convention center made it seem slightly more tolerable. She could feel the people’s elation as she made her way through the crowds, trying to find her way to the conference room where Robbie was waiting for her.

Jensen exhaled a yawn and rubbed a hand over his tired face. He could easily sleep for a week already, and they were only on day one of three in San Diego. Normally he looked forward to Comic-Con weekends, they were different enough from the regular con circuit that there was a certain level of exhilaration over the unknown of what could happen. This year though, he was tired and a little sad, desperately wishing that Y/N was there with him.

He just got out of hair and makeup for a second time that day, to do yet another interview; this time it was Entertainment Weekly. They were usually easy going, lots of laughs, not too many hard-hitting questions; but fun conversation and banter about the show. If he was somehow able to work in a plug for the festival, even better. Getting exposure through an outlet like that could easily boost ticket sales enough to make a huge impact in what they are able to give back to the community.

Shaking off the last bit of sluggishness, Jensen made his way towards the set where the spotlights were pointed directly at the chair where he would sit. Tasha Wilson, one of EW’s representatives that weekend, was already seated and waiting; her wide smile and heavily produced eyes popped with excitement.

“Jensen!” she exclaimed, darting out a hand to shake his without moving from her seat. “So good to see you! Having fun this weekend?”

“Yeah,” he smiled as pleasantly as he could muster. “I am. It's always a good time here.”

“Anything scoopy you wanna dish before the cameras start rolling?” she asked, her tongue peeking out as she playfully wiggled her eyebrows. “Promise to keep my mouth shut!” She crossed her chest with her fingers and held them up a mock salute. “Scout’s honor!”

It instantly made Jensen smile softly and think of Y/N. God, I wish she were here, he thought, then tried to focus on Tasha instead.

“Uhhh,” he started, then laughed nervously, “you know I can’t. But I think you’ll be surprised at what’s in store.”

“Okay, fine. I know… can’t say anything,” she waved him off with a flirty laugh. “You ready, gorgeous?”

“Let’s do it,” Jensen said and dug deep down to find that switch he needed to flip just for these moments. Just as the cameras started to roll, and Tasha started to talk, he found his inner professional and turned on the charm.

As she flirted her way through the questions, Jensen tried to maintain his focus, but he felt like something was coming; though he had zero idea of what it could be that was causing it. Not necessarily in a bad way, but there was a sensation he couldn’t explain, building from the depths of his gut and crawling up his spine to his neck. Whatever it was, it made him take his attention away from Tasha and look off towards the fringe of the set, beyond the cameras to where the shadowed figures stood watching the interview.

“Did you and Jared get a lot of say in how this was going to go?” she asked, unaware that Jensen was no longer paying attention.

At first, he didn’t understand what he was seeing because it was like he was seeing her in fragments. First her hair, then her smile, and even from the distance he sat, he couldn’t mistake her eyes. His heartbeat faster as he noticed the familiar position of her stance, as her arms were crossed loosely over her chest, a hip hitched out while standing beside Rob. Jensen was rendered speechless by the sight of her. At first, he wasn’t sure if it was her or just a hallucination--the sheer desire to have her there playing with his mind--but then she laughed, and even though the ambient noise and distance, he knew for a fact she was really there.

“Jensen?” Tasha asked, and then followed his line of sight trying to locate the source of what grabbed his attention. “You alright? Still with me?” she continued when she went back to him.

“Yes. Sorry,” he laughed with a mixture of excitement and discomfort at being so caught off guard by her presence. “I’m, uh… I’m alright, I just saw a familiar face.”

He swallowed hard, and looked back in Y/N’s direction, almost afraid she would be gone, but thankfully she was still there. She was looking his way now, her lips pulled taut into the little smirk he loved so much; the one that made her look like she carried the world’s biggest secret and only wanted to tell him. Jensen’s heart swelled at the sight of her, the ache in his arms building with the need to run over and grab her tightly.

“Oh? An old friend, perhaps?” Tasha turned excitedly in her chair, still trying to discern as to who Jensen was referring too.

“No, no,” he chuckled, the kind that was forced and slightly frustrated. “It seems as though my girlfriend has decided to surprise me here this weekend.” Jensen couldn’t hide the enormous smile that exploded on his face as he nodded in her direction. Calling Y/N his girlfriend for the first time, especially to someone in this very separate world, made him almost giddy. He loved how Tasha’s expression went from excited to crestfallen in less than a second.

“Your… girlfriend? Ohhh! Well… this is new, I take it? Last I heard you were single and ready to mingle, Mr. Ackles.”

He laughed his fake laugh again. “Yes, it is new. Though we’ve been good friends for a while.”

“And is she someone we know?”

“Probably not yet. But I promise you, you will.”

“Oh, and why’s that?” Tasha asked with animated curiously, but Jensen took notice that her entire demeanor now changed from the flirtatious behavior earlier in the interview.

“Y/N is the most incredible singer, songwriter, and musician I’ve ever known. She’s been working on the Hometown Brewfest we’re hosting on Austin, and what she’s managed to put together will blow your mind. I guarantee the second she gets on the stage that weekend, everyone’s gonna know her name.”

“Wow! That’s quite an endorsement! And you’ve been known to sing as well, do you plan on sharing the stage with her that weekend?”

“Hell yes!” he responded enthusiastically. “Honestly, It’s what I am most looking forward to for the whole weekend. To share a stage with her, it’s gonna be awesome.”

Tasha went on to ask a few follow up questions about both the festival and the show, then began to realize that Jensen’s attention was far too divided to get much more out of him. Tasha relented and went into asking her final few questions. The moment the lights cut off, and she put down her mic, Jensen was up, out of his seat and dodging the camera equipment in order to get to his girl.

Jensen thought his heart may beat right out of his chest, like those old Bugs Bunny cartoons. The way she felt in his arms, the sensation of her breath on his neck as she embraced him back, the familiar scent of her shampoo wafting into his nose… all of it was able to drown out all the other noise and people that were around them. He didn’t care how many people were watching them from the corners of their eyes. Nor did he care that he had his face buried into her neck and unable to peel himself from her body. He refused to let go until he filled every one of his senses was lingering with traces of her. Finally, he felt he had held her long enough that he could breathe. When his grip loosened, hers did too, but they didn’t stray far from the other.

“What are you doing here?” he asked his expression a mix of wonderment, joy, and disbelief.

“Can’t a girl just miss her guy?” Y/N teased, but Jensen could see there was more behind hiding behind her eyes.

“Yeah, I mean… are you okay though? You don’t look okay.” He caressed the side of her face with his hand, and lightly brushed her cheek with the pad of his thumb. “What happened?”

Y/N opened her mouth to talk, but looked around quickly and visibly hesitated. “C--Can we… I mean, do you have a few minutes we could go somewhere quiet?”

“For you, I have all the time in the world, come on.”

Jensen took her hand and led her around behind the Entertainment Weekly set and into a small green room that was completely empty. Once inside, Jensen shut the door and turned the lock, not caring about who needed the space.

Y/N put her arms around his neck again and kissed him softly. “I missed you. A lot.”

“I missed you too, Trix. And not that I don’t love the surprise, but I know you well enough to know that something happ--” Jensen stopped mid-thought, and brushed the hair away from her neck. He thought it strange that she was wearing it down, as it wasn’t her usual style. But as he studied the subtle differences in the tone of her skin was that when he noticed the bruising on her neck. A sudden, intense flash of rage-filled his features.

“What the fuck happened?” he asked, trying to not scare her with the anger that was rapidly enveloping him. “Y/N…”

“Ok… so, just remember that I am here telling you now. Please don’t get mad I didn’t tell you last night. Can you promise?”

“No! Not when it involves bruises on your neck, I can’t!” he snapped, then saw the way she was looking at him and reeled in his emotions a little. He took a moment, then nodded with a breathy sigh. “I can promise not to get mad at you. The situation, though… something tells me that is a whole other thing entirely.”

“Nathan showed up,” she admitted quickly and quietly, casting her eyes to the floor as if she was ashamed to tell him.

“Nathan showed up at the brewery? When? Did Paolo--”

“Paolo called the cops just like you told him too. He wanted to call you immediately, I asked him not too. So, don’t take anything out on him. He was absolutely amazing last night.”

A slight bit of tension visibly left Jensen’s shoulders as he continued to try and regulate his breath. “What happened?” he asked through gritted teeth.

“I was walking to the truck, and starting to text you back when he just came out of the shadows. He wanted to talk, more like bitch me out, but… I tried to text you while he was rambling, so you could…I don’t know…”

“That was smart.”

“Well, until he saw me doing it, then smacked it out of my hands straight to the ground along with the files I was carrying. So, I don’t have a phone for the moment.”

Jensen rubbed his hand over his face, desperately trying to keep his composure while she continued.

“Then he got angrier and said some things… I said some things that pissed him off even more and then that’s when tried to choke me.”

Her last few words hung in the air like the haze of a humid afternoon. Jensen tried to process what she just revealed without having an explosive reaction, though purely for her sake. Y/N had seen enough anger and violence at Nathan’s hands, and he refused to let her see him in the same way.

Drawing in a deep breath through his nose, he steadied his hands that were shaking and did his best to unclench them.

“Did he hurt you? I can see the bruises, but did he--”

“No,” she replied quickly. “He didn’t hurt me. It was over quickly because I kneed him in the balls. It dropped him just as Bri and Paolo were coming out of the back door. Then he got up and took off. Cops came, I talked to Detective Perkins and then Bri took me home. Bri booked a ticket for me, called Robbie to get the credentials, and now here I am. But, there’s something else you gotta know… he admitted to the break-in, Jay. He did it and I think--”

A soft knock at the door interrupting the conversation nearly set Jensen off, but one look in Y/N’s direction and he knew that he couldn’t explode when she was present. He took a few slow, steady steps towards the door and unlocked it. Robbie stood on the other side, an apologetic look on his face.

“I know, my timing sucks bad. But, it’s time for the panel. I can take Y/N and get her seated upfront, is that cool? You just gotta head over to--” Robbie paused when he noticed how tense Jensen was. “You okay, man?”

“No. I’m not. But, I will be,” he cast a longing, side-eyed glance at Y/N and sighed. “Nathan showed up again.”

“What? When?” Robbie asked, walking in and closing the door behind him. “What the fuck happened?”

“I’ll tell you later,” Y/N replied and went to stand in front of Jensen. She forcibly took his hands into hers and squeezed them. “I didn’t want to tell you here, but I knew you wouldn’t let it go unless I did. I promise I’m fine. There’s an APB out for him, and that’s why I came here as soon as I could.”

“Thank God for that,” he said before running his tongue over his bottom lip anxiously. “I gotta go do the panel. Let Robbie take you to find a seat, and I’ll meet you when it’s done, and we can talk more about this, okay?”

“Okay,” she smiled, though there was a spark of uncertainty in her eyes. Y/N lovingly touched his cheek with her hand before leaving a soft kiss on his lips.

Y/N went to leave with Robbie, then paused and turned back to Jensen. “Aren’t you coming?”

“I’ll be along in a minute. You guys to ahead and get settled,” he said, and she could tell that he just needed a moment to himself to decompress from what she just told him. She nodded and reluctantly followed Rob from the room.

When they were gone, Jensen felt overheated from the lack of air circulating and the rage that boiled in his gut. He carefully discarded his blazer and neatly hung it over one of the chairs off to the side. He put his hands on his hips, and let his head fall to his chest as he tried to calm the fire that was still raging. He had a job to do, but he couldn’t do his job and be Mr. Personality to the crowd in Hall H when all he wanted to do was find Nathan and rip his head clear off his shoulders.

Jensen paced the room, and couldn’t help but conjure the image of Nathan actually wrapping his fingers around Y/N’s throat. Then he remembered what she said right before Robbie came in and felt like he was going to explode. He looked up at the ceiling and tried to exhale slowly, but he couldn’t fight it any longer. Grabbing a folding chair that was off to the side, Jensen flung it across the room with guttural roar. He kicked the small coffee table as hard as he could, sending it into the love seat against the far wall, spraying the magazines all over the room. He grabbed another chair and raised it before he whipped it to the ground while suppressing the roar of rage he had growing in his chest.

When he was finally spent, he stood in the middle of the room and found a steady breath as he surveyed the mess he made. In an effort to be cathartic about the entire situation, he slowly and methodically went around the room and put things back as they were. Luckily, he didn’t break anything beyond repair and made a mental note to contact someone to pay for whatever damage there ended up being. When he finished, he stood in the middle of the room and took one more moment to collect himself. He rested his hands on the back of the chair where he’d hung his blazer, his knuckles turning white from the intensity of his grip.

“I swear to God,” he mumbled to the empty room, his eyes fluttering closed, and his gut clenching at the images that were burning through his mind. “If that sonofabitch ever comes near her again, I will murder him myself.”

With that, Jensen grabbed his blazer and left for the panel.

It was well past ten when they finally returned to the hotel. Robbie had arranged for the staff to leave Y/N’s luggage in Jensen’s room, so all her things were there when they got back. They hadn’t spoken about the incident with Nathan again; not after the panel, and certainly not while they ate dinner with the rest of the cast that were in attendance for the con that weekend.

Back in the room, Jensen emptied his pockets onto the dresser and kicked off his boots into the closet. He neatly hung his blazer in the closet and then turned to find Y/N just sitting on the edge of the bed. Her eyes were closed, and her head hung to her chest. He thought she looked tired and slightly defeated.

“You alright?” he asked, slowly walking over, then crouching in front of her, resting a hand on either one of her thighs to steady himself. He picked up her chin with his thumb, lifting her (y/c) eyes to meet his, which were soft and thoughtful. “Talk to me, Trix.”

“I’m sorry,” she rasped, her throat dry and thick with emotion. Y/N hadn’t really allowed herself to cry or feel too much of anything after the confrontation with Nathan. She needed to feel strong and fortified. Now that she was finally in a safe, quiet place with Jensen, she thought she could finally could let herself feel something.

Jensen could sense that the dam was about to break, and took her hand, bringing it to his lips. “Baby, you have nothing to be sorry for.”

Those words from him were enough to finally break down the last vestige of emotional fortitude that she had. The tears flowed easily then. She withdrew her hand from Jensen’s and covered her face, trying to hide the emotion that spilled over. He got up from the floor and sat beside her on the bed. Drawing her in close, Jensen kissed the top of her head and just let her cry. All he could do was hold her tightly and let her know she wasn’t alone.

Y/N picked up her head a short time later and wiped as many of the tears away as she could. She got up and went to the bathroom for a cool washcloth to clear her skin of the salty tears that left streaks down her face.

“We don’t have to talk about it tonight,” Jensen called out from the other room. “It can wait, you know.”

“I know,” Y/N said, emerging from the bathroom. “I think I like that idea, to be honest.”

“Okay, good. So, tired? Ready for bed? Wanna watch tv? A movie, maybe?” Jensen picked up the remote and was scrutinizing it to locate the power button when Y/N plucked it from his hand and tossed it across the king-sized bed.

“No,” she said, and slowly unbuttoned her shirt, revealing her black lace bra that barely contained the swell of her breasts.

Jensen sat up straighter, an instant change in his expression lured her closer. She slotted herself between his thighs and delicately ran her fingers through his hair. Being with him so intimately, and knowing how safe she was When she was right in front of him, he gingerly pushed the blouse open further, wrapping his fingers around her waist and drawing her in even more. He kissed the soft skin on her stomach and hummed contentedly.

He reached up and gently pushed the garment from her shoulders, letting it fall to the floor, then sat back further on the bed and patted his lap. Y/N smiled impishly and took a moment to remove the rest of her clothes until she was left in nothing but her bra and panties then took him on his invitation and straddled his lap and lacing her fingers behind his neck.

Jensen buried his face between her breasts and drew in a deep breath of her while his lips pressed into her flesh. His fingers ran roughly up her back to the hooks of her bra. Before he unclasped it, he paused and looked up at her. Y/N was gazing down at him, her expression was delicate and soft. She looked angelic in the dim light of the room, and he couldn’t help but think of how differently things could have gone.

Once again, he could have lost her.

“Y/N…” he started softly, bringing one hand up to gently touch her cheek. “I want you to stay with me until the festival. We’ll just stay in Vancouver and if you have to go back to Austin, we’ll do it when I’m not filming. No more of this back and forth, okay? I don’t want to let you out of my sight.”

“Okay,” she whispered, before bending down and engulfing his plump lips with her own. “Whatever you want, Hollywood.”

Contented with her response, he kissed her back with purpose and went back to the task of unhooking her bra then taking her to bed. Later, when they were sweaty and breathless, completely spent from making love, Jensen held her and watched her sleep for a while before drifting off himself. The last thing he thought of before sleep pulled him under, was how he would do anything to protect Y/N, and how one day he’d be giving interviews and calling her his wife.

The next day was spent dashing from one event to another, most times with Jensen having to go on ahead, and Y/N meeting him there. More interviews, autograph signings, promotional shoots, and that was all before lunch. Jensen didn’t want to leave her again but knew he had to fill several last few commitments before he could be completely free of the rigid schedule. He waited until Y/N was busy chatting with Jared, then pulled Robbie aside and spoke in just above a whisper.

“You don’t let her out of your sight. Okay?”

“Yeah man, I gotcha. Me ‘n her stuck like glue.”

“I doubt he’d come here, but…” Jensen shrugged then looked up to see if she was still otherwise engaged. Thankfully, she was. “Don’t want to take the chance.”

“No, he couldn’t get through security. But… she could,” Rob mused sort of casually, more to himself than Jensen, but when he saw his friend’s expression change, he back-peddled a little. “I just mean… she likes to cause trouble, you know? Not that she has. I don’t think. Other than lunch…”

“She? You mean, Dee? And what lunch are you talking about? What else don’t I know?” Jensen asked harshly, then felt someone tugging on his sleeve.

“Ready?” the young PA asked that was there to escort him to the next event.

“Yeah, one sec,” he replied then turned to Rob again. “This conversation isn’t over.”

“I figured,” Robbie sighed and regretted opening his mouth at all.

Jensen stepped quickly towards Y/N and Jared, giving her a quick kiss goodbye, and grabbing his best friend to be led off to yet another place he didn’t want to be.

Robbie stood close to Y/N and when the guys were out of sight, he turned to her, an apologetic look on his face. “You didn’t tell him everything yet, did you?”

Y/N seemed surprised, then a veil of nerves clouded her expression. “No, not yet. Why?”

“I may have said something I shouldn’t have,” he shrugged and winced a little.

She exhaled slowly. “What did you say?”

“I said something about Dee. He seemed surprised her name came up. Bri told me… you know, what Nathan said.”

“Dammit, Bri,” Y/N mumbled and moved out of the crowd that was slowly engulfing them where they stood. When they were a little more removed, she caught Robbie’s intense blue eyes and scrutinized them for a moment. “What did she tell you?”

“You know she’s just looking out for you, right? And really, all she told me was that you said Nathan implied that someone paid him to break in. Is that true?”

“I don’t know. He said something like, ‘even though the dumb bitch was happy’ right before he described snapping my guitar into pieces, and how good it felt to do.”

“Jesus,” Robbie breathed and rubbed his hand over his face and down to his beard. “This is insane.”

“Tell me about it,” she snorted, and he could tell she was beginning to feel on edge.

“I’m sorry, sweetheart. I hate that any of this is happening to you. Especially just because you and Jensen found some happiness together.”

Y/N felt a rush of warm, enveloping love at the thought of being happy with Jensen. It was a foreign feeling to her, as any of her previous relationships were all bogged down with some sort of strangling weight. There was a brief time when she was far younger, where she thought she was in love; but that was nothing like what she felt now.

“I would go through this forever if it meant being able to be with him, Robbie.”

Robbie’s face lit up. “You really mean that, don’t you?”

She nodded softly. “So much. But I didn’t want to tell him about Dee, yet. Because he’ll blame himself and that’s the last thing I want. It’s why I left her name out of the police report--”

“Wait. You did? I don’t get why.”

“Because I have no evidence Nathan meant her. He didn’t say her name. But I know it was her. Unless Jensen has some other crazy ex-girlfriend I don’t know about.”

“You’re right, it had to be her. But, I can see why you withheld it. You have to tell him though and tell him about that day at lunch. She overheard us talking about the brewery. Do you think she sent Nathan there? Told him about it?” Rob asked, and leaned back against the wall, dumbfounded at the reality that the answer to his otherwise preposterous question could be yes.

“I don’t know, Robbie. None of this makes sense to me,” Y/N sighed and leaned against the wall next to him. “Honestly, I’m exhausted from thinking about it all. Why don’t you show me around the craziness that is comic con? Maybe get our minds off all this for a hot minute before we--and yeah, you’re doing it with me ‘cause you were at lunch that day--tell him about Dee.”

“Fair enough,” he said, pushing off the wall and sticking out his elbow for her to take. “Come on.”

She linked her arm in his, and Rob escorted her through the con.

After some navigating, Rob weaved them through various crowds of people, her arm still firmly linked with his. Y/N could hear the build-up of a crowd the closer they got to the end of the corridor and when they finally came out onto a balcony that overlooked a huge open room, she understood why it got so loud. Hundreds of people stood in different autograph lines, all snaking together around round booths that allowed the actors to engage up close and personal with the fans.

Y/N’s eyes searched the tables and finally spotted Jared laughing and signing something for a guest. Beside him, Jensen was doing the same thing, excitedly talking to a little kid in a Castiel cosplay. They walked along the perimeter, trying to get a closer look and maybe even grab the guys' attention to wave hello. As Y/N and Rob stood there casually watching the floor below, they were approached by several groups of fans, a few independent reporters all proudly flashing their press badges, and at least two different Supernatural cosplay groups. Y/N offered to snap pictures for the groups and even took out her own phone for a few as Robbie posed with each of them in glorious, fanboy fashion.

Y/N watched, amused, as Robbie lavished in the attention, but was genuinely excited to talk to them about the show, Louden Swain and the Brewfest. He introduced Y/N to the reporters and had hoped she would turn on the charm as she usually did, but he found her to be quieter than normal. Several times he had to help coax her to answer a question or give some details, and by the third or fourth quick pass at an interview, he realized that she just wasn’t ready. After the last staffer from FanFest News had shoved a recorder in their faces to catch a quote, Robbie led her away from the railing and deeper into the belly of the con.

Wanting to do something to take away the tension of having a million questions thrown at her, Rob led Y/N down to where the autograph lines twisted through the room and eventually made their way straight up to where Jensen and Jared were conducting their signing.

“Oh wait,” Y/N said, an impish grin forming on her lips, “Do you have the BrewFest’s IG saved on your phone?”

“Yeah, why?” Rob asked as he automatically retrieved his phone from his pocket.

“I want to do a quick live stream, but I am sans phone, so… Can I borrow yours?”

“Oh sure,” he said, and navigated the device to the proper place. “Go for it. That will be fun. Anytime someone can catch either of those two fools off guard, I am all for it.” Rob raised his eyebrows knowingly.

Y/N shook her head and rolled her eyes. “You boys…” she muttered, trying to quickly get the live stream up and going before they were spotted by Jensen or Jared. She got it recording just as she approached Jensen, and watched through the screen of Rob’s phone as a giant grin unfurled his face.

“What are you doing down here?” he asked, forcing himself to reign in the utter glee that controlled his expression at the surprise of seeing her there. “I thought you and Rob were mingling. Are you recording this?” His cheeks instantly tinged pink and the giddy smile returned.

“I am and we thought we’d come over and surprise you,” she giggled and met his eyes over the top of the phone. “this is a Live Stream for the BrewFest followers.”

Jensen leaned his elbows on the counter and looked directly into the phone, giving the lens and intense but soulful gaze.

“Hello there,” he spoke, purposely lowering the register of his voice. “How are you guys?”

On the screen, hearts, and comments exploded as people joined the stream in rapid fashion. A moment later, Jared leaned into the shot, playfully hiding behind Jensen and waving from over his shoulder. More likes, hearts, comments flew by so fast as the guys gave the viewers a fun moment of banter before Jared continued on to more autographs and Jensen turned his attention away from the camera and back to the woman behind the device.

“We’ll let you get back at it, right Robbie?”

Y/N panned the camera to Rob, catching him off guard, more so than she did Jensen and Jared. He stammered nervously and then pulled his lips taut and replied with a simple, “Yup.”

Y/N laughed and turned the camera back to Jensen.

“Say goodbye, Jensen.”

He waved one last time, and his attention was pulled away by fans handing him a picture to sign. Y/N turned off the live stream and waited for him to finish with the young couple. When he was, he slid down towards where she was waiting, leaned over the table to leave a quick, sweet kiss to her cheek.

“I’ll be done in about an hour. Don’t go for, okay?”

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” she replied and watched him go back to do what he did best--winning the hearts of everyone that had the chance to meet him.

Robbie placed an arm over her shoulder and turned her towards the main con floor. “Ready to witness complete pandemonium?”

“Because this isn’t?” she asked with a laugh and motioned to the room around them before handing his phone back to him.

“Oh, this is nothing. Come on,” he said, taking the phone and tucking it deeply in his jeans pocket.

It was later that night that she got her first real taste of an overly aggressive member of the press who just wouldn’t take no for an answer. After all the interviews and autographs were done, their small group headed out to find a quick and quiet meal before heading back to the hotel. They were due to leave the next morning and everyone was beyond exhausted.

Jared and Rob were walking ahead, Jensen and Y/N strolling a few steps behind, walking hand in hand just admiring the city. The others who had joined them the night before called it an early bedtime and headed off to their respective hotels for a bit of peace and quiet. As the foursome tried to decide where to eat, a pair of paparazzi came around the corner. Y/N saw their faces light up as they realized just who they were looking at.

“Jared! Jensen! Over here! Rob!”

They were both calling out names, cameras suddenly up and flashing fiercely.

“What’s going on guys?”

“Where you off too?”

They asked at the same time, as they scurried along, clicking the cameras for picture after picture. One of them pulled out their phone looking for something while his companion continued clicking away.

“Just out for dinner, fellas. It’s been a long day,” Jensen said with a fake smile and a “fuck-off” tone.

“Stop and talk for a sec, come on guys!” one called out, while the other pocketed his phone again and picked up his camera, pointing it directly at Y/N.

“Hey! Y/F/N L/N! That’s you, right?” he asked, and took a few steps closer, a bit too close for her preference.

“Just ignore him,” Jensen mumbled and gripped her hand a little tighter. “Come on.”

Their group kept walking a little faster, trying to ignore the badgering call outs and questions but the two men were relentless.

“Come on, Y/N! Just a picture or two! People want to know who you are!”

Y/N didn’t know what to do. It was one thing while at the con and they were peppering her with questions; but out there on the streets, vulnerable and raw from the last few days, she hadn’t built up the walls she needed to in order to handle what they were throwing at her. She was infinitely glad Jensen was with her and able to shield her from their attention.

Instead of saying anything, or stopping to allow them a good picture, she politely held up a hand in a brief wave. As their cameras clicked away regardless, she continued walking and ignoring them, until the questions started up.

“How come you have a restraining order against your ex?!” the one called out, just as the other followed up with something similar and just as irritating.

“There’s a warrant too… just issued! Was he the one who broke in? Come on, everyone knows about that. What happened?”

“Jensen… Jensen! Did you know about that?!” the first one asked him.

Y/N immediately felt her body tense and her heart started pounding.

‘How the HELL did they know all that?’ She wondered, becoming scared by how intrusive everything felt right then, but desperately worked on keeping her eyes forward as her grip tightened on Jensen’s hand.

Jared and Rob stopped walking as the paps kept firing questions at her. They turned to see Jensen do the same, pulling Y/N to a stop. Knowing him well enough, Jared jumped between his best friend and the infuriating men before Jensen could do something stupid, and Robbie made his way towards Y/N. He grabbed her hand and protectively walked with her down the street while Jared and Jensen hung back, acting as a shield they stood there to prevent Rob and Y/N from being followed. When Jensen was sure that Rob had ushered her far enough away, he turned to the men and smiled in a way that made them take pause.

“Listen here, guys… you want my picture, have at it. I get it, it’s part of the whole gig… but her… she’s not here for that. So just leave her alone, okay? I see one of you point another camera at her again... ask her questions like that again and I promise you, it’s something you will regret.”

“Jay, c’mon,” Jared encouraged, putting his hand on Jensen’s arm. “You don’t wanna do this, not worth the effort.”

Jensen pulled his arm from Jared’s grip. He could feel himself getting angry, and on some level knew that it was entirely due to the current situation. It was all of it--Dee, Nathan, the break-in--and he was ready to find someone to take his frustrations out on. These two unfortunate souls may just be it.

“Jensen!” Jared called out, finally able to grab his attention. “Hey man, let it go. Not the time or place. Let’s go eat. Fuck these guys, let them be dicks… come on.”

Jensen’s jaw was clenched as he stared down the older of the two men. There was thirty seconds of intense silence where even Jensen wasn’t sure what he was going to do. He knew that Jared was right, it wasn’t worth the trouble, but he wanted nothing more than to take out the weeks of frustration out on one of these two men that thought it was okay to start throwing questions at his girl.

“She’s off-limits. Got it?” Jensen’s expression, coupled with his words were enough to cause the photographer to nod and take a few steps back. “In fact, any pictures of her surface from this, and I’ll know exactly who posted them. You wanna take pictures at the con, or on a red carpet somewhere, go for it. But right now we are off duty. You feel me?”

“Yeah,” the younger of the two said, “whatever you say, Jensen.” He was compliant but Jensen could tell that the man’s tone was still slightly aggressive.

The two men didn’t waste any time moving on after that, but Jensen stood his ground and made sure they were well out of sight before he turned to head in the direction that Rob and taken Y/N. Before he could go, Jared grabbed his elbow and pulled him back.

“Whoa buddy, just hold on there. What the hell was all that about?” Jared asked with a curious snort of a laugh.

“It’s been busy, haven’t had a chance to catch you up on everything…” Jensen sighed and then looked over his shoulder to make sure they were still gone.

“Well, now is a good time. What happened?”

“Not really a great place though. I always feel like they’re lurking. You know?”

“Yeah man, I definitely do. But you gotta tell me what’s going on. C’mon, fill me in on the way.” Jared motioned with his head and started in the direction of the restaurant where Rob and Y/N were hopefully waiting.

By the time they arrived there, Jensen and Jared found Rob and Y/N seated in a far corner booth. Jared was all caught up on why Y/N had come out to San Diego in the first place, and before he slid into Rob’s side of the booth, he sat down next to Y/N and hugged her.

“Jay told me what happened and I’m so sorry you had to go through that. Just know you got us. All of us. Since you have terrible taste and ended up with this guy,” he motioned over his shoulder towards Jensen, “you’re part of our family now. We got your back, okay?”

Y/N smiled and choked back the emotion that rushed up at Jared’s words; the whole situation hitting her harder than she realized. He moved back out of the seat and to the other side of the booth, while Jensen slid next to her and immediately wrapped an arm across her shoulders.

“You alright?” he asked quietly, as Jared and Rob began their own quiet conversation.

“Yeah. I just hate that you have to keep asking me that.”

“Come on, Y/N, none of this is on you. Those parasites, they have teams of people digging for stuff all the time. The minute the press learned your name yesterday, they were on it. I’m just sorry that being with me means your privacy is compromised.”

Y/N nodded slightly and rested her head against him. “It's okay, you’re worth it,” she replied.

He could tell she was trying to be playfully, lighten the mood a bit. But he could see that the usual spark of levity in her eyes was dulled and tired. The rest of the evening was pleasant and quiet; everyone enjoying a final meal in San Diego together. But all Jensen could think of was getting her back up to Vancouver and settling into a little bit of a normal life, with no drama, no complications and absolutely NO Nathan or even mention of his name.

Early the next morning, Jensen had arranged to have a private plane take them back to Vancouver, and invited the rest of the cast that was flying back to join them. He claimed to the group it was just easier to go together on one plane, but really it was simply to avoid the waiting paparazzi he knew would be stalking the usual terminals at the airport. He didn’t think after the weekend they had, that she’d be up for that kind of swarm, so he made a few calls and splurged on the private ride to his second home.

Back in Vancouver, Y/N found her stride quite easily. Jensen spent long days on set, but she found ways of entertaining herself by exploring Vancouver, checking out their cafes, and shops; even stumbling upon the one where Jensen bought her pendant.

When he was home, they spent a lot of time perfecting the last of the plans for the festival and talking about what songs they wanted to sing together. Jensen helped her write music, and she helped him run lines. They fell into a domesticated bliss that they didn’t see coming, nor did they question it. It all just felt so incredibly right.

Over the next several weeks, they flew back to Austin twice to work on the BrewFest. By the time August was coming to a close, the festival was approaching quickly and their free time dwindled down to nothing.

It was the Thursday before Labor Day weekend, and Y/N was sitting out on the balcony of Jensen’s Vancouver apartment. She had papers spread everywhere, trying to load the schedules into the new laptop Jensen had purchased but was getting frustrated by the updated software.

Y/N groaned loudly and sat back in the chair with a huff. She took off her sunglasses and tossed them across the glass patio table and pinched the bridge of her nose.

“Dammit, Robbie… why you gotta be like this,” she mumbled and then leaned forward again just as Jensen was coming out on the balcony, a glass of cold iced-tea in hand for her.

“What did the little man do now?” Jensen asked with a raise of his brow. “Bitching about the cloud, still?”

Y/N laughed. “No. He updated this shared software we’re using to track the bands and setlists, and it changed everything around.” She whined and sat back again, her bottom lip protruding at the thought of all the extra work this was going to generate. “Ugh. I don’t wanna…”

“So, don’t,” Jensen shrugged and sat in the empty seat beside her. “You’ve been working non-stop for almost a year on this thing. Take a day off, Trix. Come on. It's a holiday weekend.”

“I know, but I’m just afraid that if I don’t, something will go wrong. I can’t have anything go wrong, Jay. I don’t know what I’m doing…”

“That’s bullshit and you know it.” Jensen repositioned his chair to face her. “You are pulling off something amazing here. I am in awe, every day when you tell me what’s going on. What you’ve already accomplished and what this event is going to be… whatever happens, Brewfest is going to be a massive hit. “

“You really think so?”

“Yes, I do. I know it.” He took her hand and tangled his fingers with hers as he sat, thoughtful for a moment, before speaking again. “Do you remember a while back when we made that deal. I said that I would leave you alone about San Diego, but I reserved the right to whisk you away at any given moment?”

Y/N rolled her eyes and inhaled slowly through her nose. “Mmhmm, what about it.”

“Good, cause I’m cashing in that chip. “I think you should go and pack because we’re going on vacation.”

“Ooookay,” she replied sarcastically and chuckled as she uncoiled her fingers from his to pick up the iced tea glass that was now profusely sweating in the August heat, and quickly spreading its condensation all over the table.

“You don’t believe me?”

“Come on, vacation? Seriously? When you said that I thought you meant after the festival.”

“Nah, now. We both need it now. Just for a couple days… I have everything arranged. We fly out tonight, fly back on Monday night.”

“When did you arrange all this? And where are we flying to, exactly?”

The one corner of his mouth tugged up into an impish little smirk. “Well Trix, that’s for you to just wait and see. Pack for someplace warm and make sure to bring a bathing suit.”

“Very mysterious…” she said and pouted her lips, narrowing her eyes on him. Slowly she got up from her chair and moved to sit on his lap, Jensen’s large hands instantly gathering her knees and swinging them up to lay across his thighs. “Won’t you give me a little hint?” she asked, batting her eyelashes animatedly.

He methodically shook his head. “Nope Just gotta wait and see. But I promise you,” he paused, tucking a wild strand of hair behind her ear, “you’re gonna love it.”

Everything Tags: @sorenmarie87 // @his-paradox // @thefaithfulwriter // @sister-winchesters99 // @thymeheals // @yallgotkik

When You Least Expect It: @winchest09 // @jerkbitchidjitassbutt // @aomi-nabi // @luciathewinchestergirl // @alexisxwinchester // @moonxdance // @seppys-return-to-madness // @donnaintx // @deans-baby-momma // @the-is13 // @stoneyggirl // @captaindorit0 // @fanfictionjunkie1112 // @focusonspn // @vickyfarley

SPN RPF: @screechingartisancashbailiff // @winchesterxfamilybusiness // @sandlee44 // @wings-of-a-raven // @negans-wife // @kazosa // @hobby27 // @breereadsthings // @maddiepants // @katehuntington // @whereismyangel-damnitdeanshare

#Jensen Ackles RPF #Jensen Ackles x y/n #jensen ackles x reader #jensen ackles x reader insert #jensen x reader #jensen x you #jensen x reader insert #spn rpf

128 notes · View notes

hazel-callahans · 6 months

Text

johnny having his stupid mustache in asm #24 is actually soo funny and cute to me. like of COURSE this is the bit of canon that is consistent in all the comics right now. this is the biggest change of johnny's character in the new run and we are STICKING to it.

#i hate that mustache #but also YES OF COURSE ITS IN ASM #IT ONLY MAKES SENSE #johnny is my favorite loser #he is my babygirl #amazing spider man 24 #johnny storm #human torch #*text #shitpost #bri n her comics #he needs to shave it immediately

13 notes · View notes

forever-rogue · 5 years

Text

Little Bird

A/N: Hello hello, fam, here’s my response to the new challenge posed by Challenge! I did change one of the prompts ever so slightly as in I changed one word, so I hope you don’t mind. All the prompts are listed below and bolded in the writing. Anyways, I was soft af for this, so I hope you’ll all enjoy!

Pairing: Roger Taylor x Reader

Word Count: 5.3k

Warnings: None

MASTERLIST

3. He’s been gone for quite a while30. Turn that sh*t off!!!!

34. Remember when you were a kid and you ______ (insert memory)

35. I’ll just tell your mom on you.

36. I thought you were nice.

65. We’ll talk later.

76. I think you need stitches

81. Excuse me for falling in love with you.

87. You gave me a black eye.

88. Stop looking at me like that, weirdo.

90. Birds can’t fly without wings.

91. Sorry I’m protective over the things I love.

114. No, you’re MY bitch.

126. I’m a lucky girl. I’ll admit that.

149. We started with one and now we have seven. You have no chill.

150. if you loved me so much, why did you do it?

Wet, hot tears streamed down her face as Y/N held the phone’s receiver close to her ear, listening, but not comprehending to what Roger was saying. She heard his voice, but it all seemed so distant. It was almost like she was in those Peanuts Comics where all the kids heard adults as incomprehensible mumbling and sounds.

She had a feeling it would him when the phone rang and debated not answering, but a larger driving force had told her to pick it up. The call had been like a dagger in her heart, and each word, each lie, twisted the dagger a little more. Bit by little bit she felt her stomach knot up as her heart shattered into a million little pieces. She wasn’t sure if she would ever get over this.

“Y/N? My love, are you still there? Please tell me you’re still there,” Roger’s voice was quiet and desperate. He wanted nothing more than to explain everything to her, but he know how things seemed. He knew she had every reason to hate him. Hearing her sniffle, he let ever so slightly better knowing she was still on the line and he wasn’t just talking to thin air, “love-”

“If you loved me so much, why did you do it?” her voice sounded dry and harsh from all the crying she had been doing. They were the first real words she had uttered in hours. She had found herself frozen with an overwhelming sense of grief and fear, which had caused her to break down crying in the kitchen, sinking to the floor where she had remained for hours, “why did you say all those things? How could you say all those things?”

“My love-”

“Don’t call me that right now. If you loved me, you’d be here right now with me,” she cut him off harshly, reaching up to wipe her tears away. There was something about hearing his voice that had brought back the bitterness and the anger she had been trying to repress, “I don’t know if I want to speak to you right now. I don’t know if I can.”

“Y/N, please don’t hang up the phone,” he was begging her at this point. It was the first time in the last two weeks that she had actually spoken to him, or even given him the time of day.

Before then, every time he had called, she had usually hung up the phone, or if he had showed up she refused to answer the door or had Brian do his duties as an older brother and tell Roger to go away. Every single day had been slow and agonizing, causing him to run over their last fight over and over again. She had down the same thing, hoping that somehow it had all been a nightmare, some sort of misunderstanding. But the reality was very different, and very real.

“And just why not?” she asked, resting her forehead against the wall, trying to calm herself down. Added stress wasn’t going to help anything right now, “you made it very clear that you didn’t want -”

“I’m sorry,” he blurted out, not letting her get the words out so he wouldn’t have to hear them again. If he didn’t hear them, they weren’t real, “Y/N, I’m so, so sorry. I shouldn’t have said what I did. I wasn’t thinking clearly, I was panicking and and surprised and I regret everything I said. I didn’t mean it. I don’t mean it now. None of those words were ever true.”

“You were panicked?” she scoffed at him, “you were surprised? How do you think I feel? I went to doctor thinking I was sick, but no - I’m pregnant! I’m the one that’s pregnant with your baby, our baby. I’m the one that’s carrying the baby you said you don’t want! Did you ever stop to think about that? How do you think this feels for me? I thought the man I love would have been supportive, but I was so, so wrong about that.”

“Y/N, I’m so-”

“Save it, Roger,” she internally groaned at the sound of the front door opening. Of course Brian would be coming home right now. He had always seemed to have the worst sense in timing, “we’re not doing this right now. Come to me once you’ve decided how you really feel. My heart can’t take all of this.”

“Y/N-” was all she heard as she slammed the receiver back onto its base. She wiped the remainder of her tears away, drying her face with the back of her hands hastily so Brian wouldn’t be able to see. He tended to have a hawk eye for these types of things.

“Hey, you’re home and up! Are you feeling better?” Brian asked as he came into the kitchen, a smile on his face as his curls bobbed up and down. He noticed her standing her there with the most dismal of looks on her face, cheeks still splotched red, “what’s going on? Y/N?”

“I-I,” she leaned against the counter and held her face in her hands, trying to keep her composure and not have a complete breakdown in front of her him. She looked at him, trying to find a way to put her heartbreak into words. Instead, nothing came out and she just stared wordlessly at him. She opened and closed her mouth a few times, looking like a fish out of water.

“Did something else happen with Roger?” he walked over to her, put his hands on his hips, wishing she would just tell what was going on. As far as he was aware, she and Roger had some sort of fight, but over what he didn’t know. She had completely clammed up and tended to avoid him recently, “Y/N? What happened with him? He’s been gone for quite a while now. It’s been what...a couple of weeks? I don’t mean to pry, but obviously something is up. Why won’t you tell me, Y/N? It’s just me.”

She looked in his eyes, scared to tell him the truth, scared of his reaction. All she saw was a concerned older brother looking at his scared little sister. Letting out a long breath, she hung her head for a long moment before finally confessing, “I’m pregnant.”

“You’re what?” Brian had heard what she said, but couldn’t process it for some reason. The words hung thickly in the air as the two of them stared at each other wordlessly. As realization dawned on him, his normally soft expression into confusion and anger as he ran a hand through his curls. Letting out a long breath he quietly repeated, “pregnant? Is it Roger’s?”

“Obviously,” she didn’t know how she was hoping he’d react, but somehow his lack of response stung a little bit, “you know what, you don’t need to say anything, Bri. We’ll talk later.”

“Is this why...Roger hasn’t been around?” he let out a breath he hadn’t realized he had been holding. His best friend and his little sister having a baby. What a wild reality this was turning out to be, “what did he say? I-I thought you two were doing well? We all thought you were heading towards a wedding more than a breakup.”

“So did I,” she gave him a tight lipped smile, drumming her fingers along the top of the kitchen counter. The room was silent, almost too much so as every little sound was punctuated and the heaviness in the air never seemed to wane. She looked over at her brother who seemed to be lost in his own world, his eyes glossed over.

Knowing him he was probably running through all the different outcomes for this precarious situation, “but I was wrong I guess. I’m still working on taking this all in...and figuring out what I’m going to do. It looks like I’ll be doing this solo, but I will make it work. I don’t expect your support Bri, I know this is a shock.”

“Y/N-”

“It’s fine, Bri, really,” she walked over to him and put her hand on his shoulder, giving it a gentle squeeze. She noticed how he seemed to freeze under her touch - she wished he was the one comforting her, but somehow the tables were turned. Standing up on her tiptoes, she pressed his a kiss to cheek, “I’m going to have a lie down for a little bit, okay?”

“Okay,” was all he managed to get out as she left the room. He listened to her retreating footsteps before her door closed sharply. Brian sighed, still reeling from the revelation and trying to process everything. He wanted to be mad at Roger, to kill him for doing this to his baby sister.

He hadn’t been a huge fan of the idea of Roger asking her out in the first place, but once he saw them together, he had wondered why he had even hesitated to support them in the first place. Now, he was back to his initial feelings - how could Roger break her heart like this? It took two to tango after all, no one gets pregnant by themselves.

“Y/N?” Brian’s voice softly called out to her as he followed with a soft knock on her bedroom door. She contemplated pretending she was still asleep, but decided against it. She didn’t want to be alone any longer - the silence was crippling and her thoughts were heading into all kinds of areas she didn’t want to investigate just yet. He seemed to notice her hesitation, “I got you something. It’s not much but I think you’ll like it.”

“The door’s unlocked, Bri,” she called out to him, rolling over to face the door. He opened the door slowly, poking his head in and giving her a tentative smile. She returned the gesture and made a motion to tell him to come in. He nodded before stepping in, two cartons of ice cream and spoons in his arms.

Her heart melted a little bit at the sweet gesture - this had been how he cheered up since they were children. He would always go out and fetch her favorite flavors and they would eat in silence, or chatte away between bites, by the time they had gotten down to the last bits, their predicament had usually been solved.

“I realize this probably won’t help much,” he admitted as he walked over to her, handing her a spoon and carton, as she sat up. He climbed into the bed, sitting them next to her and opening his own container, “but I hope this helps a little bit. I love you, Y/N, and I’ll be here to support you, with whatever decision you make.”

“Thank you, Bri,” she whispered, leaving overwhelmed as she dug in for her first bite. Knowing she had at least one person on her side already made her feel tremendously better, “I know I can always count on you. You’re the best brother anyone can ever have.”

“I’m just looking out for you, Y/N. It’s my job as your brother, and your friend,” he clinked his spoon against hers, and for the first time in what felt like ages, a smile appeared on her face. The hours upon hours of crying and feeling sorry for herself suddenly felt a bunch of wasted time. She should have just told him in the first place.

“I’m a lucky girl. I’ll admit that,” she reassured him, nudging his long leg with one of her own. She knew she had gotten very lucky with both the family she had and the people she had in her every day life, but at the end of the day, it was always those four boys that made her life so much better. Until recently that was, “Bri...I’m scared. So scared. I mean, this is a baby. Another human life I’m bringing into this world.”

“I’d say I know how you feel but I can’t even imagine what you’re going through right now. But I can assure you, it will be okay. I promise you because we will be right by your side,” he put his free around her shoulders and held her close, “I’m sorry if I seemed mad earlier. I wasn’t...it was just surprising. I just want what’s best for you...and Roger. I feel like I need to protect you, you know?”

“Remember when you were a kid and you covered for me when I broke mum’s nice china?” she asked suddenly and Brian burst out into laughter at the memory. Their mum had been beyond livid when she had come home and found glass all over the the dining room, her cabinet and good dishes in a thousand little pieces, “I was so scared then. I thought she would kill me. Especially since she had told me a million times not to play footie in the house anymore.”

“You were crying so badly, I thought you’d dry and shrivel up from all those tears,” he remembered her little face all red, eyes crusted up with dried tears as she looked at the mess she had made. When he had heard a huge crash and commotion from downstairs, he had almost dropped his book in shock at the sound, but quietly bounded down the stairs to see what had happened. There he saw little Y/N, looking around sadly, tears streaming down her face, “I couldn’t stand to see you cry so much. You were so little and scared-”

“Just like now?” she joked, giving him a fond look. They had quickly tried to clean up as much of the mess as possible, but their mother had walked home in the midst of it all, livid as she demanded answers. Y/N was about to tell her the truth, but Brian had stepped in front of her and immediately taken the blame, making up an elaborate story which resulted in him somehow breaking everything. He had been grounded for what seemed like ages after that, but he was never mad at Y/N, although she kept trying to make it up to him.

“Just like now,” he confirmed, “we’ll get through it.”

“I thought you were nice, I thought you were so nice. I always knew you were the best,” she admitted, pausing to take a bite of her ice cream, savoring the sweetness on her tongue. Sighing, she dipped the spoon back into the container, “still saving my skin all these years later. You know, I could just tell your mum on you about all those things you’ve done for me. Maybe then she’d kill me and save me any harsh decision making.”

“She’s your mum too you know, and you might be being a little over dramatic. It’s not the end of the world,” he laughed at her, nudging her gently in the side. Y/N opened her mouth to say something else, but they were quickly interrupted by the sound of knocking on the front door, “were we expecting company?”

“No,” she raised her eyebrow, shrugging her shoulder lightly. She wondered who it could, but whoever it was, she was annoyed with them for interrupting their talk, “I can go and see who it is. Probably just a solicitor.”

“It’s okay,” he said, putting his almost empty container on her nightstand. He swung his long legs of the bed, sighing as he went to check to see whoever was pounding increasingly rapidly. The siblings exchanged an annoyed glance as he shouted, “hold on, I’m coming!”

Y/N shoveled a few more spoonfuls into her mouth, trying to listen in and see who it was. Not able to hear much, she ate the last bite of her ice cream, and decided to tiptoe into in the kitchen and dispose of her trash. That way she’d be able to sneak a peek and see who their intruder was.

Opening the door quietly, she padded her way down the hall and into the kitchen her ear trained towards the front door.

“Let me speak to her, please, Bri. I need to explain-” her heart stopped at the sound of Roger’s voice. Part of her was relieved that it was him, but part of her was scared. She wasn’t sure if she was ready to see him again. The last time had been painful, the look in his bright ocean eyes had hurt her so much.

“Roger, I don’t know if you should be here right now. I don’t know if she’s ready to speak to you,” there was a gentleness to his voice, but his tone was still firm. He was playing the role of protective older brother quite well, “she’s really broken up about everything.”

“Bri, this is important!” she heard him almost shout, his own voice hoarse and dry. She knew he must have been crying to you. She poked her head out of the kitchen and saw Brian barely holding the door open, with Roger desperately trying to get in, a foot in the doorway so the door couldn’t be shut completely, “I need to talk to her, I need to explain everything to her-”

“Watch it, Rog. Look, I’m sorry I’m protective over the things I love, but right now, I need to protect her. I love you too, but this isn’t happening right now,” with that, Brian tried to push the door closed, but Roger wasn’t having it. He pushed his body against the door and shoved his way in, slamming the door behind him so Brian couldn’t throw him out.

The two men were standing face to face, their chests rising and falling rapidly as they started at each other. Before Y/N could interrupt them or before she could process but was going on, Brian swung his arm back before landing a punch straight on Roger’s face. Roger staggered back, a hand immediately flying to his face, as he clutched his nose and eye.

“You gave me a black eye,” Roger said in a shocked tone as he felt his face start tingling. He knew it would be a mess, but as he discovered that there were a few drops of blood run down his face. He had never known Brian to actually hit anyone, but the tall, willowy guitarist sure knew how to pack a punch, the rings on his hand not helping anything. His face would be sore for a while, he knew that much, “what the hell, Bri!?”

Not able to stand it any longer, Y/N hurried down the hall over to the men who were surprised by her sudden appearance. Glaring at Brian, she reached over and held Roger’s face in her hands, assessing the damage he had done. The skin below his left eye was split and everything was already bruising.

“Knock that shit off!” Y/N almost shouted at Brian, hoping neither of them would have another go at each other. She didn’t need to have to take either of them to the hospital. Again. Like she had on several other occasions because they just couldn’t keep their mouths shut.

“Y/N, you weren’t-”

“Brian, why did you do this?!” she hissed at him, jabbing a finger in his chest, “there was no reason to, you fool. He’s an idiot surely, but a punch wasn’t warranted.”

“I was just trying to protect you,” Brian said meekly, already regretting his actions. His hand was aching but he knew it would be nothing compared to Roger’s face. She grabbed Roger’s hand and started pulling him towards the bathroom to clean him up, “I’m sorry! I didn’t mean it how it seemed…”

“Bri,” the two of them sighed at the same time. Roger wanted to be mad, and he was to a certain extent, but he understood where he was coming from. He hated himself just as much as Brian had in that moment.

Opening the door and ushering Roger inside, Y/N sat him down on the edge the of tub and busied herself getting a washcloth wet with warm water. She grabbed the antiseptic from the medicine cabinet, and swiped some on a cotton pad, before getting on her knees so she was eye level with him.

He watched her work wordlessly, stunned by her kindness and gentle touch even though she was furious with him. He wouldn’t have blamed her if she too just punched him in the face, he did deserve it after all.

Taking his face in her hands, she gently dabbed at the cut, trying to be easy on it. It wasn’t terrible, but it probably stung under the alcohol, but Roger didn’t even flinch in the slightest. Touching the puffy skin lightly with the washcloth to get rid of all the blood, she caught his eye and shook her head gently, “oh my love, I think you need stitches. It doesn’t look terrible, but if you want to heal properly, we’ll need a doctor to look at it.”

She met his eyes, and her heart stopped for a moment. They were the same eyes, the same bright expression, that she had fallen in love with. The same eyes she hoped their child would have. She touched the corner of his mouth lightly, noticed that his lips were dry and chapped, and looked like he had been nervously picking at them. He opened his mouth to speak and quietly whispered, “I’m so sorry, Y/N.”

“For what?” she asked, even though she knew the answer. She wanted to hear it from him. She wanted to know that he was going to be serious about discussing their situation.

“Everything,” he whispered as Y/N let go out of his face. She sat down the floor and leaned against the wall, the two of them staring at each other. The silence wasn’t as awkward as she expected, the air filled with a lot of unspoken words flowing between the two of them, “I don’t even know how to begin to describe how sorry I am for everything I said.”

“My mum used to tell us all sorts of old proverbs and silly sayings when I was a kid. Bri always took them to heart and said we could learn a lot from them. I never gave them much thought,” she ran a hand through her hair, and staring at the ceiling. She hoped that keeping her gaze trained upwards would prevent any tears from falling, “Birds can’t fly without wings. That was one of her favorites. I never understood what it was meant until these last few weeks. I know this is hard for both of us, but I can’t do this without you, Rog. This little bird can’t fly without her wings, without you. But if you don’t want to do this - then I’ll have to learn to fly without you.”

“You don’t have to do this on your own, love. I’m going to be with you every step of the way,” he hoisted him off the edge of the tub and sat down right in front of her so they were facing each other, “I’ll support every decision you make. I love you more than you know. And our baby.”

“But I thought you said...you didn’t want it,” she responded quietly, biting on her bottom lip nervously, “you said we were too young and not ready.”

“I’ve thought about those words every single day since then and I regret it every single one of them,” he told her, reaching over and touching her face gently. He ran a thumb over her cheek gently, wiping at the few tears that had welled up, “I should never have said them. I know this doesn’t excuse any of it, or what I put you through, but I’m sorry. I panicked and was scared - the idea of a baby is terrifying. I’m still scared too. So scared of everything that could happen to the baby and to you. But I want to do this. With you and only you.”

“Y-you want to have this baby?” her hand instinctively went to her stomach where there was still no sign of the child she was carrying. Although only about ten weeks into her pregnancy, she already felt protective over their baby, “do you mean it? Please don’t just tell me what you think I want to hear. I don’t want you to say yes and then we have this child and you hate me forever.”

“Every word is the truth, my love,” he scooted closer to her, so there was only a few inches of distance from them, “there is no one I’d rather have a child with. I want to marry you one day, I want to have a big house and fill it with our children. I want it all with you. I know I’ve been a shit boyfriend lately, and you absolutely have no reason to forgive me, but I hope you do.”

“I was so angry with you, Rog. I came to you so scared and worried, and then you flipped out and basically told me you didn’t want a child and you didn’t know how to feel. I thought I was going to lose you. I was angry,” she told him. A lot of tears and sadness had been over how angry she was with him, but a lot of them were due to the sheer fact that she didn’t want to lose him, or their child. She wanted it all - with him, “everything I’ve ever wanted was with you. You’re my endgame, Rog, you always have been.”

Roger thought his face might crack with the size of the smile that was on his face as he watched her. She always exuded such elegance and grace even in the most difficult situations. It was one of the many things he loved about her. And her sweet words? Those were just the icing on top.

“What?” she couldn’t hold back her giggle as he watched her silently. She reached over and tugged on a strand of his hair gently, “stop looking at me like that, weirdo. Do I have something on my face?”

“Geeze, excuse me for falling in love with you,” he teased her. He leaned forward so his face was mere inches from hers. She smiled at him, his sweet, warm breath fanning over her face, “the only thing on your face is a beauty unlike any other. The sweetest lips, perfect for kissing, the warmest and kindest eyes, cutest nose, and pinkest, prettiest cheeks. I hope our son or daughter will look just like you.”

Her face lit up at his words, it was like a weight had been lifted off her shoulders. She was still terrified of the idea of having a child, but she was slowly starting to feel better, “I hope they’ll look like you. With those pretty eyes and that soft face.”

“Either way, our baby will be beautiful,” he whispered, nuzzling her nose with hers, their lips mere centimeters apart. She took the opportunity and leaned her head forward, pressing her soft lips against his rough ones slowly. He kissed her back, not realizing how much he had missed the feel of her kisses, always so sweet, soft, and perfect. He pulled back and rested his forehead against hers, “I love you, Y/N. Truly. I’m so sorry for everything I did and said. Please, please, please say you forgive me?”

“I forgive you,” she said, touching the soft, bruised skin of his face ever so lightly, “just talk to me next time. We can work anything out if we do it together. We’re better together.”

“I know. I’m sorry,” he said, pecking her lips quickly, “I won’t do it ever again, pretty girl. I thought I lost you for those two weeks.Those were the worst weeks of my life. I don’t ever want to feel like that again.”

“I see you’ve learned a very important lesson,” she said quietly, beaming at him, “just know, you owe me after this one….no, you’re MY bitch now. I like the sound of that.”

“Hey, hey, you’re getting a little ahead of yourself now,” he chuckled in between kisses, “I am whipped for you though. But I think everyone’s already aware of that.”

“One more thing,” she said, peppering some kisses across his face, the two of them getting more insistent and hurried with their lips and soft touches. It had been too long since they had gotten to touch and taste each other. Two weeks was two weeks too long.

“Hmm?”

“You need to slow down with getting punched,” she said as he let a hand trail down her jaw and to her neck, ghosting lightly over her collarbones, “We started with one and now we have seven. You have no chill. Seven hospital visits in two years for punches must be a new record. You need to learn a sense of self preservation.”

“It’s always over you, love, I can’t have anyone messing with you. I need to protect you,” he whispered, pulling back and letting a hand ghost over her jaw gently, “I need to protect you and now our baby too.”

“You’re such a sap, Rog,” she was struggling to hold back her tears. She wasn’t sure if it was just her normal soft nature, the pregnancy hormones, or the combination of the two that had set her off. He let his hand trail down her body, before gently letting it rest on her stomach. The idea that in a few short months her belly would be large and round with his child made him so nervous, but also more elated than he could describe, “but god, I love you so much.”

“I love you too, Y/N,” he whispered against her lips, “I love more than all the silly space dust that Brian always rambles on about. More than the all the stars in the night sky.”

“Roger,” she breathed, their kisses turning salty with their combined tears. He reached down and lifted her shirt up, exposing her still flat stomach. Pulling away from her face, he leaned down and pressed a few light kisses to her exposed bare skin. It was such a sweet, intimate gesture, such that it caused her to cry harder, basically leading to her becoming a sniffling mess.

“I will never do anything to hurt you,” he whispered quietly to her stomach. He put his hands on her hips lightly tracing shapes all over it, “I already love you so much. And your mumma. I love her too. I’ll always protect the two of you. I’m not always the best man or smartest man, and I’ve made your mumma cry a few times more than I should have, but I can promise you that much. I will always be here for you.”

“I’m already soft, but if you keep you being so sweet while I’m pregnant, I’ll never to do anything but cry,” she said as she pulled him up so he was face to face with her. She reached over and used her thumb to wipe her tears away, his gaze never wavering from hers, “Promise me you’ll always love me?”

“Always,” he nodded fervently, taking her hand in his and pressing a kiss to her palm, “always and forever my little bird.”

Permanent Taglist: @ruinerofcheese @courtneychicken @santa-crew @supernatural508 @ssweet-empowerment @nerissa98 @jamesbarnesappreciationsociety @buckybarnesappreciationsociety @wearegoldeninthenight @mannatgalhotra @prxttybirdz @piensa-bonito @mightyhemsworthy @shewalksinanotherworld @jems8241 @bookaddic @fairyxxfighter @asguardiansoftheavengers @esoltis280 @the-bright-lights @artisticlales @loislp @dixonsbugaboo @sleepylunarwolf @patzammit @thisismysecrethappyplace @princess-evans-addict @bookgirlunicorn @makapaka11 @bornfortherainydays @avipshamitra @clumsy-clara @justanewqueensfan @yourealegendroger @anna1523 @queenficarchive @thesecondlastjedi@bitemerog @rogernroll @sheridans-dynamos @secretsweetscollectionblog @dinkiplier

359 notes · View notes

briyourmotherdown · 5 years

Text

Put On A Show, Darling - Chapter 1

Pairing: Brian May/Fem!Reader

Word Count: 4137

Warnings: Language, some angst

Description: You and Brian have been best friends for over five years now, and you’ve loved him during most of that time. While you’ve been agonising over your hidden feelings, Brian’s gone and got himself a girlfriend. A serious one.

A/N: This is my first ever (published) fic, and I’m a little nervous about posting it, but I really hope you enjoy the first chapter with more to come soon. (Give me feedback ! I need to improve !!)

Enjoy :)

Everyone always told me that when I grow up, I’ll fall in love for the first time.

They told me that I would give my all for them, that they would be my everything.

That I’d fight to the ends of the earth for them, I’d brave the seven seas for them.

They told me to be careful, that I’d lose myself in them. That how easily they could lift me up, they could let me down. Break my heart, destroy my soul.

And now I’ve learned how it feels, to fall in love.

And I’ve learned the sting, the fervid burn that rages in your bones. But in my great affliction, he continues on. For they also told me the worst pain of all, when all of your affection, all of your pain, every single tidal wave of infatuation is all simply unrequited love.

The bright lights reflect against his skin, glowing from the blinding heat and the vigour of his performance. His eyes flitter up from his guitar a few times to scan over the crowd, the room overflowing with energy. Excitement, felicity, admiration.

You let yourself melt into the audience, heat crawling up your spine, hands shaking in exhilaration. you let yourself pretend for a moment that you’re just another fan. Just another fan staring up at him in adoration as he performs his art. Just another fan who hopes that just maybe he would glance in their direction. Just another fan who after tonight, can go home and rest, holding onto the sweet memories of seeing their favourite band in concert.

But you’re not.

You’ve been there from the start. When it was just two men trying to make it. You knew from the start he captivated you. Every fleeting glance had your heart racing and palms sweating. Every small touch had you reeling, internally begging for more. Just the smallest bit more.

It felt as if you were watching him from behind a double sided mirror, heart in your hand, but all he could see was his own reflection.

He was the movie, you were the viewer.

You should’ve made it clearer, you know that. Maybe you shouldn’t have given up so easily.

But you hid away those feelings, placing them gently in the back of your heart where you prayed he would never find them. You knew he would never find them.

It’s better that way.

For you are best friends, inseparable, shoulders to cry on.

But you could not cry on his shoulder for one thing, as you feared your confession would tumble from your lips before you had time to catch them.

I love you.

“You guys were incredible!” You greet the four men backstage, taking in their dishevelled appearances with a wide grin. You hope that no one notices your eyes flit to Brian one too many times, but you can’t help yourself.

“You think so?” He speaks up first, greeting his best friend with a hug. You close your eyes momentarily, gripping onto the moment before he pulls away all too soon, “Sorry, I’m all sweaty.”

You laugh, shaking your head. “I’ve seen you much worse.”

He grins at you, and you both share a beat of silence until he speaks once again, “We’re going to the pub after we get changed, you should come along.”

Your eyes light up, always loving the nights of drunken singing with the band, especially Brian, “I would love-“

“Brian!” You’re interrupted before you can answer, the all too sweet voice of the girl Brian is currently seeing.

“Go get changed so we can go, silly. Oh, hi Y/N!” Dani turns to you with a polite wave, and you can barely muster a smile, but of course you do, you have to.

“Hi Dani, how’ve you been?” You reply, turning your attention away from Brian and praying that both of them don’t notice your voice drop half an octave. Dani is a sweet girl, and as devastatingly heartbroken as you are, you can’t bring yourself to dislike her. She’s a lovely woman, who illustrates childrens’ books for a living, for god’s sake. You wish that you had a reason for the prickling feeling in your stomach whenever you see Dani with Brian. A reason more justifiable than your unspoken love for someone else’s lover.

“I’ve been great, thanks! Has Bri asked you to come out with us tonight? You should totally join us.”

“I just asked her, I have yet to get a reply.” He smiles, his sharp canines poking against his bottom lip and causing your stomach to flip.

“I would love to, you guys, but I have work in the morning and I’d rather be in the land of the living.”

You joke, hoping that it’ll hide the fact that you’re lying through your teeth. You do have work, that wasn’t a lie, but you’d much rather stay home with a cheesy romance novel and a hot chocolate than have to suffer through the couples stolen kisses and hushed giggles.

“Aw, that’s a shame. Another time, yeah?” Dani finds Brians hand, and your heart pulls.

“Of course.”

You smile at the pair, mostly focusing on Dani so you don’t have to look at Brian’s confused face. You always goes to post-concert pubs with the band, it’s almost tradition.

“I’ll uh, I’ll see you tomorrow morning then?” Brian touches your shoulder, and you try not to flinch as you nod.

“If you’re coherent by then, yes.” You giggle, “You have a tendency to be a bit of a lightweight.”

“I do not!” He stammers, cheeks flushing pink.

“Anyway, I should really get going, sleep awaits.” Lies. “Stay safe, bye you two.”

And without another word, you turn around, clutching onto the unspoken feelings in your chest as you exit the venue, eyes welling with tears of frustration when you hear the loud laughter of the couple behind you.

You sink to the floor the moment the front door is shut behind you, a heavy sigh exiting your lungs as you cradle your head in your hands.

Five years.

Five years you’ve loved him.

No matter how hard you try, you just can’t free your heart from his grasp. He’s got a hold on you, his grip so tight that it’s almost suffocating, but he doesn’t even realise.

No matter how many dates you go on with another man, there is never a second meeting. No matter how many drinks you down, his image always stays so clear. It’s like you’re being haunted by him, like the shadows you see in the corner of your eye at two am when no one else is home.

You’ve had so many chances to tell him, you just never could. You couldn’t ruin the friendship you both share. You couldn’t bear to have him walking on eggshells around you, to have him view you differently because he couldn’t reciprocate the same feelings.

Picking yourself off of the wooden floors, you trudge to your bedroom to peel off the concert-ridden clothing. You wore it for him. The pale yellow dress that he said complemented your eyes. He didn’t notice, he never does.

Moments later you’re sat on the shared sofa of your flat, cheesy romance novel in hand and hot chocolate long gone. You thought you’d enjoy the escapism, but you find yourself huffing at the too-easy fantasies. Love isn’t easy. Love can be torture. You close the book and set it in your lap.

You pick up your black notebook, the cover is slightly scraped and the pages are ripped in places from the frustration of a blocked mind. You pour your thoughts out in a river of smudged ink, scribbling down the hope that maybe one day he’d finally open his eyes to see that you’re right there, and always have been. The pages are full, handwriting barely legible as your eyes begin to droop, notebook still open in your lap as you drift off.

Your slumber is interrupted by a harsh scraping sound, and you recognise the sound as the front door that’s been broken for months, always scraping against the floor with a horrific screech. The landlord is yet to repair it. The sound is followed by two sets of giggles, followed by the sounds of shushing each other but soon returning to giggles. You sit up, closing your notebook and holding it in your lap as you rub at your sleepy eyes.

“Y/N? You’re still awake?” Brian slurs slightly, obviously just as drunk as the woman hanging off of him. He’s got lipstick smudges over his mouth and across his neck.

“I uh-“ You clear your throat, voice scratchy and hoarse from sleep, “I must’ve fallen asleep here.”

Dani playfully runs her hand down Brian’s chest and you swallow thickly.

“Don’t mind me, I’m off to bed anyway.” Rising to your feet, you offer a small wave to the couple. You can barely handle their affection towards each other in the day time when you’re wide awake, but it’s all too much when it’s late at night and you’re exhausted.

“We’ll try not to be too loud.” He laughs, finding his own drunken comment comical, Dani erupting into a fit of giggles along with him.

Your stomach drops, the familiar ache in your chest returning as you force a smile.

“Goodnight.”

The soft sheets of your bed welcome you with open arms as you approach it, falling into it with a huff.

Well, that fucking hurt.

And he doesn’t keep to his word either, as the muffled sounds of drunken passion reverberate through the two bedroom flat. The noise is still heard through the pillow pressed over your ears and the rain pelting on the window. A tear streams down your face as you finally shut your eyes, falling into a restless sleep once again.

The shrill, loud ringing of your alarm clock wakes you from your sleep, and you reach your arm out blindly to shut it off. Your hand lingers over it, letting it ring a bit longer simply to annoy the couple in the next room. They kept you up, they should suffer too.

But with a sigh, you decide not to let your feelings get the best of you, shutting off the alarm.

Hot shower steam soothes your aching muscles, the scent of vanilla and jasmine helping you to come around from sleep. Your wet hair is blow dried and pinned back into a low bun, a small amount of makeup smudged around your eyes and on your lips in order to liven yourself up. Taking a minute to look fixedly at your reflection, you notice the darkness under your eyes, similar to the dullness in your once glistening irises. You’ve never really enjoyed the way you look, always finding an imperfection some place or another. The feeling only worsened throughout the years of feeling unwanted.

With a sigh, you slip into your work uniform, grinning fakely at yourself in the mirror, an attempt to lighten your mood.

It’s seven o’clock in the morning when you arrive, just on time for you to scurry to the back room and put your bag and coat in your locker. The scent of coffee and freshly baked pastries is already wafting through the air as the chefs in the back prepare for the usually very busy Saturday mornings.

You wave a polite hello to your boss and begin wiping down the counters until customers begin coming in for the day. Your shift today is 7am to 7pm, a long one. This is how you spend your Saturdays—earning money to contribute to your rent. You work on weekdays as well, but not for as long as you do on Saturdays since you also attend university.

You’re a couple of years younger than Brian anyway, but he dropped out of university to pursue his dream while you continued to study. He’s immensely intelligent, showing you up in conversations at times, but you admire that about him. You’re no idiot, but Brian’s brain moves at a pace that is hard to keep up with at times. You notice the way he slows his diction when around other people, but speeds back up whenever he speaks to you. You remember the pride you felt when you first notice him do this, flattered that he thought you were able to keep up with him.

A ring pulls you from your reverie, the bell on the door jingling loudly as someone enters. “Y/N, darling!”

A grin overtakes your features as Freddie waltzes in, his stage persona barely noticeable in his casual attire. You love that he could be someone so flamboyant, so brazen whilst on stage, yet so gentle and unpretentious when the spotlights were off. He was so Freddie, and that’s what made him such an incredible friend.

Behind him stood John, a friendly smile just brushing his lips. Freddie tugs you into a tight hug the moment you walk around the counter, before pulling away and allowing you to quickly hug John.

“I’m happy you lot are here, but...why are you here?” You grab some menus from the cart near the door as you speak, motioning with your hand for them to follow you to a booth.

‘We missed you last night… and quite frankly we were a bit worried. You always celebrate with us after a gig.” Freddie scoots into the booth, followed by John.

With a quick glance around the corner to make sure no customers have come in, you sit down across from them. “I didn’t feel too well after the show, I think there was something off with my food.”

Freddie and John share a pointed look, “I thought you needed to sleep because of work in the morning?” Freddie holds up his fingers in air quotes.

“Brian told you?” You sigh at being caught in a lie, resting your head in your hands.

“Dani. We knew from the moment she told us that something wasn’t right. Care to explain why our darling friend couldn’t celebrate with us?”

“I just wasn’t feeling it last night, guys.” The bell on the door rings and you stand quickly to greet and seat the elderly couple, offering them a tea or coffee.

“Bullshit.” John shakes his head, and you shush him when the elderly man turns around.

“It’s not, it’s just that, that-“

“You didn’t want to be there when Brian and Dani practically shagged on the dance floor?” Freddie pipes up.

The elderly woman audibly gasps now.

“Freddie!” You cringe at the image put into your head.

“Well?” He continues.

“I...I...you know? About my feelings?” Your shoulders slump when he nods, John joining in.

“Darling, everyone knows except Brian. Even Roger bloody knows.” John snorts at Freddie’s remark.

“Does…?”

“Does Dani know? I think so, yes.”

You groan and turn around to fetch the couples order, also taking a moment to regain your composure before turning back to the two men.

‘Does she hate me?” You pour some coffee into two cups for them, and brew a tea for yourself.

“The short answer is no, but I’m almost certain that she feels threatened by you.”

“Me? Why?”

“Because you’re the only one that really understands that guitarist. He only ever really opens up to you, not even us!”

Your heart skips a beat at the slightest sliver of hope that something may be there, before you quickly swallow it down. You are best friends, nothing more.

“We’re just best friends, she has nothing to worry about.”

“Oh darling, I’m not worried about her, I’m worried about you.”

“Me?”

“How much do you…”

“Love him?”

“I was going to say like him, darling,” He raises a brow, “but I seem to have gotten my answer.”

You place your head in your hands once again, shaking it slightly with a strangled groan.

“Oh dear.” John speaks, glancing at you with pity in his eyes.

“I can’t help it.” You wince.

“For how long?”

“Five years.”

“Good god!”

“Freddie!” You shush him, glancing around the cafe, “could you be any louder?”

“Oh, much, but that’s not the point here. Five bloody years? And you haven’t told him how you feel?”

“I’ve got close a few times, but I just don’t want to ruin our friendship. He means everything to me and if hiding the way I feel about him means that he stays in my life, then that’s what I’ll do.”

“But what if he feels the same way?”

“He doesn’t, but either way, that's not a risk I’m willing to take.” Standing up again, you walk behind the counter to wait for more customers, bringing your empty cup with you.

“Y/N, you can’t just run from your feelings. It’ll break you.” You hear john from behind you as you turn to put the cup in the sink.

“It’s broken me for a long time, Deaky. I can handle it.”

...

The wind whips at your hair, pulling and misplacing the strands, but you welcome it, breathing in the crisp air in attempt to clear out the heavy feeling in your lungs.

Work is long over, but you simply couldn’t face Brian. You didn’t want to see his shoes by the door accompanied by a smaller pair that weren’t yours. After Freddie and John bid you goodbye, work passed by agonisingly slow. Your mind was occupied by thoughts of what could’ve been, it even dared to imagine a time where Brian loved you back.

The city looks much too large from where you’re standing, the rooftop of a small bar you and Brian both came to know. You’d both sit in their tattered leather chairs, chatting over drinks for hours and hours until he became a bit too tipsy to walk home, and you’d practically carry him to a taxi.

You’re standing in the exact place you once almost told him you loved him.

“Wow.” He breathed as you both climbed the last step, revealing the twinkling lights that seemed to stretch forever.

Your heart beat with adrenaline, from both sneaking into the restricted access of the roof and from how good he looked in the low light. You couldn’t even speak.

“Why didn’t we find this sooner?” He slings an arm around your shoulder, pulling you to his side.

“No clue.” You melt into him the same way you’ve done many times before. The same way you do when you both pass out watching movies on his tiny television. The same way you do when work and uni becomes too much and he holds you close to him, whispering softly that everything will be alright.

You both stumble slightly as you lean your weight on him, laughing together as you steady yourselves.

“Careful love, I’m afraid I’m a bit drunk.”

You both laugh, your eyes lifting up to look at his profile as he continues to stare at the city ahead. Your breath hitches, your laughter ceasing. The silence causes him to turn to you, glancing down to be met with your eyes.

“Everything okay?”

“I uh…”

He cocks his head to the side, the glow shadowing over one half of his face. The sheer intensity of his gaze and the sound of cars whooshing past below has your knees weakening, tightening your grip on his arm just slightly.

This is it, this is your chance.

Tell him!

“Y/N?” He furrows his eyebrows.

“I...you...you have a crumb on your face.”

Damn it, you idiot!

“Oh?” He reaches up to wipe his face with his hand, “Did I get it?”

“Yeah, you got it.” You’re happy that he doesn’t notice the way your voice cracks as you finish your sentence, tears of frustration threatening to spill over.

Brian smiles once more, squeezing your shoulder before he turns his head away from you once again.

He doesn’t see the tear glide down your cheek.

You frown in disappointment at the memory.

Squinting in the dim light to read the time on your watch, you sigh at the realisation that Brian is probably worried as to why you’re not home yet. You usually get home around 7:30, it now being 10:00.

So you begin your walk back home, feet dragging against the ground. With each passing step, the more you don’t want to go home. What if Dani is still there?

The feeling of dread only grows bigger in the pit of your stomach, stopping in your tracks outside of your front door. The deep purple paint is cracked and peeling.

Suddenly the door swings open, the breeze from the speed fanning over your face.

“Oh, hi-“

“Where the bloody hell have you been?” Brian doesn’t let you finish, pulling you inside by your sleeve and closing the door behind the two of you.

Dani’s shoes aren’t by the door.

“I got caught up at work, it’s no big dea-“

“Don’t lie to me, I called your work and they said you clocked out on time.” He cuts you off again, arms crossed over his chest.

‘I-“

“You’re always back at 7:30! Where were you?”

“Listen-“

“Explain!”

“I’m trying to, shut up!” You yell back at him, throwing your arms up in frustration.

He closes his mouth and presses his lips into a firm line, narrowing his eyes as he awaits an explanation.

“As I was saying,” you put emphasis on the word, “I just went to Jones’s for a bit, the roof. Needed some air and just lost track of time. I’m sorry.”

He sighs, uncrossing his arms and sitting on the stool next to the island. “I was worried, I thought something happened to you.”

“I’m fine. I’m here now, aren’t I?”

“That’s hardly the point and you know it.”

You sigh, shifting on your feet. Your work clothes are feeling exceedingly uncomfortable as Brian stares at you like a child who’s just been caught with their hand in the cookie jar.

“I’m sorry.”

He exhales through his nose, standing up from the stool to embrace you in a hug. You hesitate, but wrap your arms around his tall frame and sink into him.

“Don’t do that again, okay?”

“Okay.”

“Promise?”

You close your eyes, taking a breath,

“I promise.”

He pulls away from the hug first, walking into the kitchen to fill the kettle with some water, “How was Jones’s anyway?”

“The actual bar, or the roof?”

“Both.” He turns on the gas cooktop and sets the pot on top.

You jump onto the countertop, legs swinging over the edge, “The bar, although cute, still smells like cheese.”

He scrunches his face up, leaning back onto the counter across from you.

“The roof? Still beautiful. It was different tonight though, foggy.”

“Couldn’t see Big Ben?”

“Afraid he just wasn’t big enough.”

“Shame.” He hums, nodding his head as a curl falls in front of his eyes.

“This damn hair.” He huffs, trying to blow the strand out of his vision.

“Hey, be nice to the mane. I rather adore it.” You lean forward, almost falling off of the counter to push the strand behind his ear.

To stop you from falling, he moves forwards so that he’s stood in between your legs, hands pressed onto the counter on either side of your thighs. Your hand brushes against the side of his face as you push his hair out of his eyes, it falling back in place a few times before finally staying put. You don’t realise how close your faces are until your gaze shifts from his hair, noticing his hazel eyes right in front of yours.

The air feels thick as your eyes meet, and you can swear that you can hear his heart beat just as fast as yours. Your hand drifts from his hair to cup his cheek, his eyes glancing down at your lips.

No, he’s got Dani. You’re imagining it.

The kettle begins to whistle, breaking you both apart as he scurries to turn off the heat. You sit with red cheeks, his equally so as he brews the pair of you two cups of tea. You thank him quietly as he hands you your cup.

Taking a small sip, you push yourself off of the countertop, “I’m going to head to bed. I...goodnight, Brian.” You want to say something, anything about what just happened but you just can’t find the words.

He glances at you with a shy smile, “Goodnight, Y/N.”

And with that, you scurry away, placing your cup on the side table before flopping face down onto your mattress. You want to scream, yell, groan, do anything, but you’re aware of Brian in the next room. So containing yourself, you get ready for bed and shut your eyes, tea becoming cold as you drift to sleep.

39 notes · View notes

metaphorical-love-for-a-car · 5 years

Text

Written In The Stars-- Brian May x Reader (4)

Summary; An astrophysics student had the bright idea to form a band. He always had a passion for music and wanted to share that very same passion with others. Brian put up flyers on notice boards around campus, hoping that he could find other students to join him. After a couple of rather unsuccessful auditions, Brian found himself in a pub, during open mic night no less. That’s when he stumbled across you, a bartender who could play the piano. (Based on the movie A Star Is Born)

Warnings; language, specified fem! reader

Word Count; 2.1k

Notes; every single time I try to post this it gets flagged??? so sorry it’s taken to long lol

Everyone knows the classic love at first sight cliché, but you did not get to experience such pleasure. You were blessed to have an enemy at first sight. You always thought that arch-nemeses were only for comic books and fairy tales. Oh, how you were wrong. Because as soon as you met him, you hated him for absolutely no reason. There was a gut feeling about him that just made you know he would be a pain in the ass. Who was the bane of your existence? Paul. Fucking. Prenter.

You didn’t really know how to label him, except maybe call him Freddie’s personal assistant. He was supposed to help the whole band if any of you ever needed anything, but he only seemed to pay attention to Freddie. Paul would every once in a while make snarky comments to Roger, almost as if he was trying to get him riled up. At first, you tried to be nice. You’d smile and greet him as if he was one of your least favorite customers at the pub you used to work at, but Paul would just ignore you. You always shrugged it off. You honestly didn’t care whether he talked to you or not. Then his disliking for you and the rest of the band became more and more apparent, and Freddie was practically clueless to it.

Freddie seemed to enjoy Paul’s company, so you never said anything about Paul being an asshole. That didn’t stop the rest of the boys, though. Deaky never really talked about it much, but you could tell from his expressions. Roger and Brian were the most vocal. Rog would occasionally make comments to Paul about how he should be careful and not stand too close to an open window. Slighthand threats became common.

There were times were Paul had ‘forgotten’ to book you a room at the hotel everyone was staying in whenever the band was touring. If Freddie was unable to convince the staff to give you a room, then you would bunk with Brian, building a barricade of pillows in between the two of you. At first, it was awkward. Neither of you knew what to do or say. Over time, it started to get more comfortable. The two of you would talk until one of you finally fell asleep. Your conversations usually consisted of you saying something stupid just to see what Brian’s reaction would be.

You craned your neck to peek over the wall of pillows. “Bri, you’re an astrophysicist.” He glanced at you from the corner of his eye, humming in response. His lips were pursed, and he couldn’t help but wonder what nonsense was about to come out of your mouth. “What if everything you learned about space was wrong. What if stars are actually just ceiling lights and everything we know is a lie.” Brian groaned before reaching up to turn the bedside lamp off.

“Goodnight, (Y/N).” He heard you rustling the covers, probably trying to get comfortable. You were quiet for a couple of minutes. Brian sighed and closed his eyes.

“Have you ever realized that mustaches are just mouth-brows? Or that eyebrows are just eye-staches?”

“Please, just fucking go to sleep.”

“Hey, stop being a whiny bitch. I’m giving you my best material here.”

“One more word out of you, and you’re going to get kicked out.”

“You wouldn’t dare!” you gasped.

“Try me.” You muttered something, but Brian didn’t quite catch what you said. “Sorry, what was that?”

“Geez, Bri. Be quiet, I’m trying to go to sleep over here.” Brian snorted. He grabbed the pillow out from under his head and hit you with it. You scoffed and managed to tear the pillow from his grasp before he could hit you with it again. “The hell was that for?”

“Being annoying.”

“Jokes on you. I’m not giving your pillow back.” Although he couldn’t see you in the darkness, Brian was almost certain that you were sticking your tongue out at him.

The band wanted to produce something new and experimental, so the five of you decided to go somewhere that would get rid of the typical distractions at home. Ridge Farm absolutely took your breath away. It was beautiful, and you were giddy with excitement to get to stay there. Paul let the lot of you through the house and explained where everyone would be sleeping.

“John, (Y/N), you two are downstairs.” He led you both down a small staircase, which led to a tiny bedroom with two small beds. “Smaller rooms don’t get quite as cold.” Paul grinned at the two of you before clapping Deacy’s shoulder and disappearing up the staircase. Deacy glanced at you and raised a brow. You shrugged.

“Well, roomie, hope you aren’t claustrophobic,” you teased, setting your bag on the foot of one of the beds. Deacy sniggered.

“Yeah, this is less than ideal.”

“Don’t worry, I promise I’ll be a good roommate. If I start to get on your nerves, just let me know! And I’ll go find Brian to annoy instead.”

You were loving every minute you spent at Ridge Farm. When you weren’t busy helping the boys write parts of different songs or recording something, you had an abundance of activities to choose from. There was a swimming pool, a tennis court, and more on the farm. Then there was always plenty of places to visit in the local areas as well.

One night, however, things didn’t go so well. You were off on your own, playing the piano and working on a song that you had written. There had been times where you helped write a song that got put on an album, but you usually left the songwriting to the boys. Your material was personal, and you didn’t feel comfortable putting it out there for the world to see. That’s why you only worked on it when you were alone. You were invested in the music and had no clue that someone was standing in the doorway, watching.

“Roger just got back with the pizza for dinner.” You froze, eyes going wide. You slowly turned around to see Paul, staring at you with a smug grin. A million swears ran through your mind as you wondered how long he had been there.

“Alright, I’ll be there in a minute.” At first, neither of you moved. The couple of seconds that passed seemed to last an eternity. Paul finally shrugged before turning on his heel and leaving. You let out a shaky breath and snatched up your notebook that contained the sheet music for your song.

After putting it away in a safe place, you met the boys in the dining area. Brian and Roger were bickering about something, while Deacy watched with amusement etched into his features. You pulled out the chair that was next to Deacy. “Where’s Fred?” you asked as you sat down.

“Bubble bath... said he mustn’t be disturbed.”

“And what are these two going on about?”

“Whether pizza is considered healthy or not.” You smiled and shook your head. Of course, they’d be the ones to argue about something like that. You grabbed yourself a slice of pizza and joined Deacy in spectating the argument, occasionally interjecting your own thoughts to keep it going.

After a while, you decided to pour yourself a drink. You asked the boys their orders and headed towards the kitchen. You were gathering the needed ingredients for the various cocktails when Paul leaned on the counter. “Look what the cat dragged in. Care for a drink?” He hummed, eyeing you carefully.

“Do you ever wonder why you’re in the band?” he asked suddenly. You raised a brow at him. The boys had quieted down, and they were all watching the two of you.

“What do you mean?” You treaded forward carefully. You could tell that it was going to end badly.

“You’re not really needed. I mean, Freddie can play the piano just as good as you can if not better. And you don’t write any songs, except for gushy love songs that would never sell if you did release them.” You took a deep breath to maintain your composure, but you could feel your face reddening with both anger and embarrassment. “I just don’t see the significance of you being here. Shouldn’t you be somewhere, making yourself a good housewife?” His words hung heavy in the air. Everyone sat in stunned silence. You could hear a pin drop

“Fuck off, Prenter,” Roger snarled. “She’s got more talent that you have in your little finger.”

“If there’s anyone that doesn’t belong here, I’d say it's you,” Deacy said with a scowl.

“I’m just stating the facts,” Paul tried to reason. “You could all make a lot more money if you didn’t have to split the royalties with her.” You grabbed the bottle of vodka and stormed out, unable to take it anymore.

Brian lept to his feet. “I’ll go talk to her.” He started to go out but stopped to grab a blanket off the couch. As he walked by, Brian grabbed Paul’s shoulder and leaned down to his ear. “Don’t you ever talk to her like that again. I don’t care what Reid or Freddie says, you’ll be done for. Understood?” Brian’s voice was dangerously low. Paul grimaced and nodded. The last thing he wanted right then was to get into a fight. Brian clapped Paul’s shoulder then head outside.

It took him a while to find you. You were laying on the ground at the tennis court, staring blankly at the sky. Despite having the whole bottle with you, you had hardly drunk any of the vodka. “There you are. I’ve been looking all over for you.” When you heard Brian approaching, you quickly rubbed your face with your hands in an attempt to get rid of the stray tears that were on your cheeks. He sat down next to you. You sighed and sat up. Brian wrapped the blanket around your shoulders.

“Thanks,” you mumbled. He nodded, watching you carefully. “Funny, how the tables have turned.” Brian’s brows furrowed. “I took care of you when you were having an emotional breakdown with a bottle of alcohol in your hand, and now here you are,” you explained. Brian smiled and scoffed.

“At least you aren't drunk out of your mind. I still don’t fully remember that night.”

“Don’t worry, I held your hair back when you hurled.” Brian bumped his shoulder against yours. A soft laugh escaped his lips.

“Thanks, again, for that.” The quietness of night reemerged. You idly picked at the loose threads on the edge of the blanket. “Don’t mind the things Paul said. He doesn’t know what he’s talking about. You’re amazing, and we need you. The band wouldn’t be the same without you in it.” You sniffed, and the corner of your lips twitched upward. “Is that a smile I see?” Brian teased.

“Shut up,” you groaned, and Brian laughed. You picked up the bottle and took a swig before holding it out to Brian. He accepted it and sipped on it.

“Paul mentioned something about you writing songs. Why haven’t we heard any of them?” You shrugged.

“Dunno... I guess I just never thought they were Queen enough, you know? LIke he said, they’re just sappy love songs.” Brian rolled his eyes and scoffed.

“Oh, please. I’m sure they’re wonderful. I mean, have you read the lyrics for Roger’s car song?” You snorted, trying to contain your laughter. Brian smiled at you, glad that he was able to make you laugh. “I understand if you don’t feel comfortable playing them for everyone, but I’d love to hear one if you’d let me.” Your graze drifted upward as you thought about it. You could practically feel Brian’s eyes on you. After giving it some thought, you finally settled on humming the tune of one of your songs. As you hummed, Brian started drumming his fingers to the rhythm. His smile widened when you looked over at him. “I remember that tune... from the morning after my meltdown. You were making breakfast.” You nodded, remembering that moment fondly. Taking a deep breath, you stood and held a hand out.

“Come on, I’ll show it to you.” Brian took your hand, and you helped him to his feet. While the two of you walked towards the studio, Brian pointed out different constellations. You smiled at him. You loved the way he got excited about the stars and babbled on and on about them. Even though you only understood about a third of what he said, you found it endearing.

Tag List: @mothermercuryy @fatbottomedboi @geek-and-proud @intrrverted @catsoo12 @mmmmmitslikeadiseaseson

#written in the stars #brian may #brian may x reader #brian may imagine #queen #queen x reader #queen imagines #gwilym lee #gwilym lee!brian may #gwilym lee!brain may x reader #gwilym lee x reader #gwilym lee imagine

70 notes · View notes

changingchances · 5 years

Text

Crossing Senses Ben Hardy!Roger Taylor Part Six

A/N: 6922 words. HELLOOO! Happy Holidays, lovelies! This part is super long. I really hope you like it. I wanted to wait a few days to post it so that I look back over it and make sure I was happy with how it turned out. Don’t be afraid to leave comments, feedback, or suggestions! Much love!

Warnings: Swearing, confrontation, depictions of a panic attack

The event is held in an extravagant hotel, the kind with chandeliers and ballrooms and grand staircases. There are paparazzi around every turn within a two-mile radius outside of the venue. The noise and flashing lights of their cameras feel like a punch to the face as Roe steps out of the car with Brian. Though she doesn’t allow herself to falter in step or pause at the overwhelming stimulation, Brian seems to sense some amount of her discomfort. Or perhaps he had anticipated that she would be nervous, unused to such a scene to begin with. No matter the reason, he wraps an arm around her waist and pulls her close to him as they wade through the crowd to the entrance. Once inside, Roe lets out a breath and allows herself a half smile at Brian.

“Not sure how you boys manage that kind of attention,” she chuckles. “Seems like the kind of overwhelming you couldn’t ever get over.” She chances a quick glance behind her at the chaos outside. She doesn’t miss how his arm hasn’t moved from her waist, despite being safely inside and away from paparazzi pandemonium.

“For me, I don’t think it will ever be normal,” he leans down to murmur, close to her ear. “It will never not be overwhelming. I think Deaky feels the same. Rog and Freddie, on the other hand…” Brian chuckles instead of finishing that thought, because they both know how Roger and Freddie are.

Roe nods in agreement. “They do love the spotlight, those two.”

Brian’s led her to a table big enough for the band plus her and Mary. He pulls her chair out for her and offers a wink as she sits. She returns the gesture with a smirk.

“Ever the perfect English gentleman, Bri.” She teases as he takes the seat across from her. By now, Deaky, Freddie, and Mary have caught up with them and take their seats as well, Freddie on her left, Deaky on her right, Mary sat next to Brian.

“Which reminds me, Roe, I’ve been meaning to ask this,” Brian begins, glancing over the drink menu offered to him by a waiter. “You sound relatively English most of the time. But you have some odd pronunciation. Where are you originally from?”

Deaky makes a noise of agreement. “I noticed that too, Roe. You’ve got an odd accent.”

Roe gives a small laugh at their observation. “I’m from the States, but my family moved to London when I was so little, it wouldn’t make much of a difference in speech. I think the weird accent comes from picking up nuances of both English and American vowels, since my parents spent most of their lives in the States. If you ever heard them speak, there would be no doubt in your mind that they’re American.”

Brian and Deaky nod in understanding. Of course, Freddie already knows her entire backstory, and Mary’s met Roe’s family once or twice, so she’s heard the accents.

The group orders their drinks, the boys choosing whiskey or beer, Mary and Roe opting for a glass of red wine. Freddie finishes his drink before anyone else, no surprise to Roe, and goes about ordering a round of random cocktails and shots for the table. When his order arrives, and everyone goes to grab a beverage, Brian frowns in Roe’s direction.

“Fred, you ordered too few. Roe doesn’t have one.” He goes to flag down a waiter, but Freddie stops him with a wave of his hand.

“Roe doesn’t need to be drunk to have a good time.” He throws back his second drink. Deaky and Brian raise their eyebrows in surprise. Freddie thinks everyone needs to be drunk to have a good time. He never lets anyone get away with only one drink, especially if that drink is wine.

Roe simply smiles and shakes her head at the two boys, sipping on her glass of red. She appreciates that she is the only person on the planet that Freddie doesn’t pressure into drinking. He knows from back when they were teenagers that alcohol is a catalyst for panic attacks in Roe’s book, and he’ll be damned if he ever puts her in a situation that would induce such an episode.

“Someone’s gotta stay sober enough to keep you rockstars out of trouble, yeah?” she smirks. Deaky smiles and pats her head teasingly.

“Thank you for being the responsible friend, Roe.”

A few more rounds pass, and the group is relatively tipsy. Roe finds herself amused in witnessing the shenanigans of the drunken band. Mary stays on just the right side of buzzed, and Deaky’s only a little more tipsy, bopping in his seat to the music. Brian’s face is flushed, and his usual filter in conversation appears to have dissolved in the alcohol, as he’s swearing left and right about a variety of subjects, ranging from the cosmos to the band, from music to badgers. Roe can’t recall having laughed this hard in her entire life, watching the vigor and passion of the guitarist throughout his ranting. It’s almost comical to watch the typically calm and collected Brian May yell about anything.

Freddie is shouting, which while not entirely unusual for him, is hilarious because he seems to have no understanding that he can, in fact, speak at a normal volume for everyone at the table to hear him properly. Obviously, Roger never sat down with them. Again, not unusual for him. Roe assumes he is merely off flirting, looking for some arm candy to take home.

The party is really beginning to pick up. People have begun occupying the dance floor of the ballroom. The music is getting louder, sexier, more fitting for a club than the hotel’s grandiose hall. The drinks are flowing. Roe can’t decide if she’s not drunk enough to enjoy herself or if this is as good as it’s going to get. Not that she isn’t having fun. She’s just obviously not having as much fun as those with a third or fourth drink in their hands.

All the same, she knows that there’s a fine, fine line between pleasantly buzzed and suffering a panic attack. One drink too many and she’ll be riddled with anxiety for the rest of the night, and she’s quite liking how calm she feels now, relatively sober.

“You’re thinking too hard, love!” Freddie shouts from right beside her. Roe laughs heartily and rolls her eyes.

“I’m just debating whether to get another drink or not, Freddie, I’m fine.” She grins at him, wrapping her arm around his shoulders and giving him a hug. “Thank you for tonight. This is the most fun I’ve had in months.”

“Of course, darling! Anything for my best friend. Now go dance with Brian. He’s undressing you with his eyes!”

Roe’s eyes shift to the guitarist, who is indeed staring at her with a gaze that is anything but innocent. She raises her brow when she catches him looking. His cheeks redden, but he doesn’t look too embarrassed at being caught. She smirks when he licks his lips, then jerks her head towards the dance floor as a question. He stands immediately and rounds the table, stopping in front of her, bowing a little dramatically and holding out his hand.

“Madame,” There’s a mischievous gleam in his eyes, playful and inviting and so very Brian. Roe’s smirk grows, and she takes his hand, standing and tilting her head ever so slightly to one side, a teasing expression. He presses his lips to her knuckles, just barely there, but it makes Roe’s smirk shift into a full Cheshire cat grin. The two know they aren’t soulmates. But that’s what makes this dynamic so easy to enjoy. They’re adults, friends who are willing to fool around for the sake of a good time. They’d had conversations about what ifs concerning soulmates and hard feelings, and the wonderful thing is that they both appear to be in the exact same place in their lives- too busy to worry about forever, more than willing to indulge themselves.

So, when she feels a tingle shoot down her spine, Roe can’t help but stiffen. And she knows Brian’s noticed when he pauses in pulling away from her hand.

“Roe,” he begins, moving to hold her hand in both of his. “I know that look.”

“I need a drink.” She turns around, pulling away from him, and sees a waiter carrying a tray of flutes filled with champagne. She grabs two and throws each back unceremoniously, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. Brian looks a little taken aback at the action. Roe doesn’t look like the type to enjoy alcohol, ever the studious, calm voice of reason in his time being her friend.

“Do you want to talk-“

“Not at all. It’s my birthday, Bri. I don’t want to think about the rest of my life. I do that every bloody day. I want to have fun tonight.”

Were he sober, Brian wouldn’t let this be the end of the conversation. But he is relatively drunk, and drunk men are easy to distract. So, when he opens his mouth as if to argue, Roe stands on her toes to whisper into his ear.

“I want you to have fun with me, Bri,” she feels his posture stiffen as her breath brushes against his skin.

“Roe-“

“Please, dance with me.” She kisses at the spot just below his ear, trails her lips lightly down his neck for good measure, smirking in triumph when she feels his hands grip her hips as he lets out a shaky breath. She pulls away and leads him to the dance floor, all the while ignoring the lyrics painting themselves down her body.

They dance together for what may be hours. Brian disappears a few times briefly, always returning with more drinks, which she gratefully downs, all thoughts about alcohol induced anxiety pushed to the back of her mind. So long as she isn’t exposed to any triggers, she’ll be fine. So long as she doesn’t linger on thoughts of her soulmate, she’ll be fine.

It’s when she feels another body behind her, pressing into her, that she decides she is definitely not drunk enough for this kind of party. When she turns to see who’s invading her space, she comes face to face with Roger Taylor.

“Nice of you to show up!” She yells over the music, her dancing slowing to an acceptable pace for conversation. Roger smirks.

“Nice to see you having fun! Dare I say it, you’re pretty hot when you’re not so uptight.” He offers her the rest of his drink, which appears to be whisky. Roe hates whisky.

“I’ll take offense to that later,” She retorts, taking the glass and throwing back the contents. She doesn’t let herself make a face at the taste, but instead turns to see Brian dancing with another girl. He makes eye contact with her and gives her a smile. She grins back, grateful that he’s got himself entertained, before turning her attention to Roger again. He appears to have been staring at her ass.

“Oi!” She snaps her fingers at him. “What are you looking at, drummer boy?”

When his eyes meet hers, it startles her how serious they are. Suddenly, he’s got a hold of her hips, pulling her close.

“What are you doing?” Roe goes to pull back, a little stunned by his actions, but his grip tightens, only a little.

“Your soulmate is here, Roe.” He says quietly, looking directly into her eyes. Roe pulls her head back, confused. She doesn’t want to talk about her soulmate.

“What are you talking about?”

“There are lyrics on your back. To the song that’s playing. Right now.”

The two of them stare at each other a moment, his gaze serious, hers bewildered. When he lets her go, it’s with an encouraging smile.

“Go find that unlucky bastard, Roe baby.” He gives her a wink before making to move away, deeper into the crowd. Roe surprises herself when her hand shoots out to grab at his wrist, effectively garnering his attention again. When he faces her again, he’s smirking, but his brow is raised in inquisition.

“I don’t want to think about soulmates tonight!” She yells at him over the music. Roger moves closer, hand finding its way back to her hip.

“What do you want to think about then, love?” His voice drops, and Roe can’t help but take note of the hue swirling behind her eyes in association to his tone. She can’t help but recall that when men’s voices lower, it’s typically to assert dominance or to attract a mate. But she just rolls her eyes, snorts, and moves to stand with her back facing him, and begins to dance again. His other arm wraps around her waist and pulls her flush to him.

“Don’t get any ideas, Taylor.” She warns, allowing her head to lean back and rest on his shoulder. “You’re not my type.”

He laughs out of his nose. “Don’t you worry, Roe baby. You’re too smart to fall for my charms.”

“Damn straight, drummer boy.”

“Darling,” Freddie takes a seat next to Roe at the bar, plucking a shot glass from her hand. “This does not seem like a good idea.”

Roe sighs, heavy and dramatic, and puts her face in her hands.

“My soulmate is here, Fred. I need to be drunk.”

“Roe, lovely, you are two types of drunk- horny or angry, and there is no in between. And that’s when drinking doesn’t make you a panicked mess. I stand by the opinion that this is not a good idea.”

She groans at that. “I cannot deal with this, Freddie. I don’t want to meet him right now. It’s my birthday, I wanted this night to be perfect.” Her voice is on the brink of being whiny.

“Maybe it still will be, love. Maybe he is what makes tonight perfect.”

There’s a beat of silence. Roe doesn’t have it in her to argue with him. The room is spinning too much for her to make a good argument.

“May I please have my vodka?” Roe asks, holding one hand out for the class, face still resting in the other. Freddie sighs and hands her the glass.

“Be smart, Roe, yeah?” He murmurs, standing from the stool he had been sitting in. “It’s your soulmate. You don’t have to be drunk to connect with him.”

“Don’t want to connect with him, Fred. I just want to have one night where I’m not worried about how my actions will affect my future, okay?” She throws back the shot and makes a face. She fucking hates shots. She knows they’re only filled with bad decisions and inevitable hangovers, but she wants to get trashed and she wants to do so quickly. She hears her friend sigh.

“Roe, my love, look at me.” She swivels in her seat to face him, a look of mild exasperation plastered across her features. Freddie, who is no more sober than she is, smiles at her and touches her cheek gently. “Have fun, my love, do what you feel is best for you. But one day, you’re going to fall in love, you know. Maybe not today, but it’s going to happen. And you can’t run away from that.”

Roe nods, glancing out at the crowd, rubbing her thumb over her upper thigh where there are still lyrics tickling her skin. “I know, Freddie. It happens when it happens, blah blah, it’s inevitable, it’s fate. But if I can help it, it isn’t happening tonight.”

“Then here’s to avoiding our problems until they outrun us, darling.” He hands her another glass, obviously having given up trying to talk some sense in her. Roe snorts at his declaration and takes the drink, shooting the vodka with her friend. When she looks back towards the crowd, scanning the area for Brian or Roger, she sees something that makes her chest seize. She drops the shot glass to the bar. Thankfully, it doesn’t shatter, but the clatter is loud enough that Freddie starts a little bit, looking at her strangely. She’s suddenly on her feet.

“Roe?” Freddie reaches for her arm, but she moves away too quickly, trying to control her breathing, trying to look okay in front of the vocalist.

“I, um, I just-“ her eyes remain glued to the man in the crowd, dancing and singing along to the music. It’s in that moment that he glances over and makes eye contact with her. She sees the recognition in his face instantly. It feels like someone’s punched her in the stomach. “I’ll be right back, Fred, I’m going to find the restroom.”

And she takes off in some direction, a direction that may or may not take her to a bathroom. But it’s in the opposite direction from the dance floor, and that’s all she cares about.

“Shit, shit, shit,” Roe stands in front of the mirror, having finally found the restrooms after several moments of avoidance and pacing around the ballroom like a bloody lunatic. “He can’t be here,” she gasps quietly, feeling the panic creep up her lungs. Deep breaths, in and out. “God, that cannot be him.” But it had been him. She’d recognize him anywhere. The man out there is her ex-boyfriend, her last serious relationship. She’d thought, briefly, he was her soulmate. Every time lyrics would pop up on her body, he would tell her he had been thinking of the song. He would sing along as they tickled against her skin.

However, she grew suspicious when he began to have trouble naming the tunes- often times they were Queen songs, when the band had just started out. Sometimes they were songs she’d never heard nor ever found, they were so obscure. When she questioned him about it, he would go ballistic, swearing and calling her a liar and a whore, threatening to leave her, telling her how hurt he was that she could ever doubt him.

Roe didn’t get out of that relationship for years. Freddie was the one who, over a phone call while on tour, could tell something wasn’t right, that she wasn’t as happy as she told him she was. And she couldn’t lie to him, her best friend, so she broke down into tears and told him everything. Freddie was livid- it was the only time she could ever remember witnessing legitimate anger from him. He told her that what this man was doing was cruel, that he was lying to her obviously, that he was gaslighting her, and how none of that was okay. That night, she attempted to talk to the man one last time, to set the record straight, to hear the truth. That night ended with her packing up her bags and sleeping in the lab for the first time, an icepack to her cheek, a paper towel to her split lip.

And here he is, at this party, on the night of her birthday. As if that isn’t enough to send her into a panicked frenzy, Roe is drunk on god only knows how many varieties of alcohol. But she cannot let him do this to her. It’s been over a year. She cannot let him have this kind of power over her. But she can’t stay here, in the ballroom, at this hotel. She decides, after getting her breathing under control, that she will leave the bathroom, find Freddie, and explain what she’s seen. She will ask him to take her home, and she will nurse her hangover tomorrow morning and focus only on how much fun she’s had before all of this occurred. So, she takes a few more deep breaths, plucks up all the courage she can muster, and leaves the bathroom in search of Freddie.

Nothing about the event has changed since she locked herself away half an hour ago. The music is still thrumming through her body at an ungodly volume, the people are still dancing, still drinking. But the entire mood has shifted and turned upside down. Roe isn’t having fun anymore. She’s fighting off a fucking panic attack, and the stimulation from the party isn’t doing her nerves any favors. The music is bright, glaring in her eyes, reds and oranges and neon purples. She can taste the vodka she’d recently had in the back of her throat, blinding white and striped in black streaks. Everyone’s voices blend together into a mess of splattered colors, blues and greys and browns and greens, yellows and creams, and her head begins to pound.

Where is Freddie? She thinks, looking around and attempting not to appear as frantic as she feels. He isn’t at the bar anymore. No way in hell is she wading through the crowd of dancing people to find him. It’s then that she sees Brian, Deaky, and Roger sitting at their table from earlier in the evening. She makes a beeline towards them and is only about a couple of feet away when a figure steps in front of her, a figure which she promptly runs straight into.

“So sorry,” the person says, voice bright and yellow. She mentally cringes, recognizing it immediately.

“Excuse me, I’m trying to get to my friends-“

“Roe?” He looks down at her, towering above her at a height of six foot something. She swallows thickly but narrows her eyes in faux confusion.

“I’m sorry, do I know you?” Despite being far more drunk than she has been in years, her voice is steady, exasperated at not being able to pass. Irritation is the least transparent façade, and she makes sure that he can see she is well past annoyed.

“Don’t pull that shit, Roe, it’s Matt.” The man retorts, and her stomach churns at the name. But she really looks at him, takes in his features, keeping her gaze bored and mildly critical. He’s not as lanky as she recalls, broader and sturdier looking now. He’s trimmed his beard, looking cleaner and more put together than he had a year ago. His hair is styled, blonde waves contained by product. But his eyes are still just as she remembers from the night she left- cold, judgmental, prying. Her eyes narrow further, now an undeniable glare.

“What are you doing here?” Roe’s voice is low, almost monotone. Freddie was right. If she isn’t a horny drunk, and she isn’t an anxious drunk, then she’s an angry drunk. And right now, she’s furious.

“My manager invited me,” Matt’s tone is not friendly. “He thought it would be good to make connections with the important people.” His chest is puffed out. He is purposefully looking down at Roe, unconsciously making himself appear bigger, literally talking down to her. His smirk is nothing short of a sneer. He’s always been a prideful bastard. “And you? Get tired of playing scientist and decide to crash a party?” His eyes rake down her body, taking in her fitted dress and lingering a moment too long at the neckline. His mouth twists into something cruel. “What kind of graduate student can afford such tasteful clothing, Roe?”

Roe bites the inside of her cheek, fuming. She wants nothing more in the world than to kick this guy’s teeth in. But she knows, she knows, that’s a fight she would lose. She glances around Matt and catches Deaky’s wandering gaze. When he sees her, his eyes go wide. Maybe she isn’t hiding her emotions as well as she had hoped. She watches as his lips move and notices Brian and Roger look at the bassist, then in her direction. Their expressions mimic the bassist’s shocked reaction. They shift, all three quickly rising from their seats.

Realizing she’d been silent for a long moment, Roe turns her attention back to the man before her. “I’m here with some good friends of mine, actually.”

His responding scoff has Roe clenching her hands into fists, which she subtly moves to rest behind her back. Matt practically got off on watching her get angry. She is not going to give him that satisfaction. Her face burns. She tries to ignore the angry flush, but Matt’s expression shifts from mocking to curiosity, then to callous amusement.

“I saw you earlier, little angel,” he spits the nickname as though it’s a curse. “Dancing like a whore on that one man. And his friend. Did you know at that point that your soulmate was here too?”

Roe bristles. “You are not my soulmate.”

“Oh, I’m well aware,” his smile is twisted. “But you’ve got some lyrics, precious.” He lifts a hand and rests his thumb on her cheek. Roe takes an immediate step back, jerking her face away. Matt laughs, cackles practically.

“Oh, you do know!” He claps his hands together in front of him. “Tell me, angel, what kind of slut gets drunk and dances on a handful of men that aren’t her soulmate? What kind of tramp flaunts herself for them rather than spends her night searching for the man that was made for her? Huh?”

“Fuck off, Matt.” Roe growls through gritted teeth. She’s going to punch him. She’s going to start a fucking fistfight in the middle of a five-star hotel and she’s going to get her ass kicked, but she’ll be damned if she walks away from this asshole without at least one swing.

“Same old Roe, eh? Always running away from anything that isn’t exactly by your design. Probably for the best. Put off the inevitable, precious. He’ll figure see it one day, too, that you’re just a dirty, used whore-“

“Roe, love, is everything alright?” Someone steps up to her right and an arm wraps around her shoulders. She doesn’t break eye contact with Matt. She doesn’t have to in order to recognize Brian’s voice. Matt looks a tad bit taken aback at the intrusion. He straightens up and lifts his chin.

“you must be one of Roe’s good friends. We were just having a chat,” he doesn’t smile at Brian. There’s a long pause. The space around them is thick with an awkward tension. Matt looks the guitarist up and down. “Saw you two dancing earlier. Who might you be?”

Brian huffs out a short, unfriendly laugh. “Brian May. Guitarist for Queen.”

Matt’s eyes widen, almost imperceptibly, for a fraction of a second before he regains his composure. Roe takes a great deal of pleasure in that fraction of a second.

“And I’m Roger Taylor, drummer.” Roe hears Roger’s voice from her left. She feels one of his hands gently rest upon her own, which are still balled up into a fist behind her back. She doesn’t let the tension leave her shoulders though, still does not break eye contact with the man before her.

“John Richard Deacon,” There’s a pause. Someone clears their throat. “Bassist.” His voice comes from behind her. Roe feels like she’s got a small rockstar artillery surrounding her, at the ready to aid her in kicking in Matt’s front teeth.

But Matt, after a beat, regains that sick smile of his. “Got yourselves quite the little groupie, don’t you, lads?”

Brian’s grip on Roe’s shoulder is suddenly more firm. She hears Deaky suck in a breath. Roger appears to remain relatively calm, but Roe doesn’t look at him to see if his shoulders have tensed up. When he speaks, though, she’s willing to bet money that his entire frame is taut as a bow.

“Roe’s our friend, mate. I suggest you back off.” He warns.

“Good friend, I’m sure. Could tell be the way you were practically grinding against her a few hours ago, mate.” Matt scoffs. Roe’s fists tighten further, so much so that she feels her knuckles pop. She shifts her thumbs from inside of her fists to the outside. She’s going to sock him in the fucking face.

“I think it’s best that we go,” Brian suggests, but there is no calm demeanor in his tone. He’s saying, let us leave now or we’ll bloody end you.

“You know her soulmate’s here?” Matt comments suddenly, smile curling into a toothy grin. None of the boys say anything. Of course, they know. Of course, for the sake of her birthday, none of them pushed the subject. But Matt interprets their silence as shock, and his grin grows. That is, until the man next to her speaks again.

“Obviously,” Brian snorts. “That would be me.”

Roe’s breath catches in her throat at that. She breaks eye contact with Matt to look up at Brian, who smiles at her. She can still feel lyrics racing up her back, down her arms and legs. Catching onto his game though, Roe feels a crooked smile spread across her face, and she looks back at Matt, eyebrows raised in the most satisfied, smug expression ever to cross her features. Matt’s façade falters. His brows furrow together, and he opens his mouth, closes it, repeats the action a time or two. Out of the corner of her eye, she sees Roger’s shoulders lower a little on an exhale.

“As I said,” Roe states, brow arched and smirk venomous. “I’m here with good friends.”

There’s a moment of silence. Roe is the first to move, making to pass Matt and head for the door with Brian, Roger, and Deaky following. But the fucker opens his mouth.

“Show me your lyrics.” He moves to stand directly in front of Brian. The two are just about the same height, so they are standing practically nose to nose.

“Piss off, man,” Brian rolls his eyes, clearly more than a little irritated.

“Show me your lyrics. If you’re really her soulmate, prove it.”

“Why the fuck does it matter to you in the first place?” Roger fumes, taking a step towards the two. Roe feels her breath catch again.

“No big deal, mate, just show me your lyrics.” Matt taunts. Roe can see Brian’s patience thinning. She can see Roger’s shoulders tensing, the muscle in his jaw jumping. She can’t breathe.

“Walk away.” Brian’s voice is quiet, voice low, and it’s possibly even more terrifying than it could be were he to scream.

“Or what, mate? Hm? Just show me your lyrics. Prove that she’s really yours.” Matt knows he’s getting to them. He fucking basks in it. Despite being in the beginnings of a panic attack, that last sentence catches Roe’s attention.

“I don’t fucking belong to anybody, you misogynistic fuck.” She hisses. Matt laughs loudly.

“No, of course you don’t. Not anymore. You belonged to me, you fucking ungrateful whore! I was the only person that could ever want you. Now, you’re just some bitch running away from a soulmate that will never care about you.” He takes a heavy step towards her and all she can think about is that he might hit her. All she can think about is another bloodied lip and bruised cheekbone, and it scares the hell out of her.

Roe stumbles back into Roger so suddenly that they both nearly fall to the floor. There’s no stopping any panic attacks now. Roe’s having a full-blown episode- hyperventilating, tears stinging at her eyes, chest feeling as though she’s being electrocuted. She scrambles to her feet in spite of it. Matt’s back is turned to her as he’s facing Brian again, the tension between the two men rising rapidly. Both are shouting at each other now, and she knows shit’s hit the fan when Matt abruptly shoves Brian into a nearby table.

Someone grabs at her wrist and yanks her in the opposite direction. Her head whips around to see Roger as he begins to drag her away from the scene. They round a corner, out of sight, and Roe leans against the wall, breathing too hard. She slides down to the floor as the first sob bubbles from her lips. Roger stares at her, alarmed.

“Stay here,” he stammers, glancing around the corner. “I’ll be right back, I’m going to find Freddie.” And before she can respond, he’s sprinted off.

Roe, now seated, now alone, feels the full weight of anxiety crash over her, and she’s gasping, sobbing, hands pressed to her sternum in an attempt to force air out so that she can take another breath. She feels like she’s dying. She feels like her skin is crawling, like her insides are vibrating violently. She tries to find something in the room to ground her, but the music is in color and she feels like she’s watching from a third person point of few, like she’s standing beside herself. She tries saying her ABCs, but the letters are in color too and there aren’t enough of them to keep her occupied. She tries some breathing exercises, but she can’t fucking remember how to breath. It’s like once the air comes in, it won’t leave. Her head is spinning. The lyrics that were tickling her skin now feel like claws raking themselves down her body. She feels like she’s fucking dying.

There are hands on her face suddenly. She jerks backwards and screams, but all that really escapes her throat is a choked yelp. Screaming requires the ability to breathe.

“Roe, darling, my love, it’s me,” Her eyes focus on Freddie, crouched in front of her, hands moving to gently cup her cheeks again.

“Don’t,” she whimpers. “Please, don’t touch me.”

Freddie’s hands drop immediately. He stands and turns slightly, and Roe is suddenly hyperaware that Roger is standing there too, watching her while Freddie murmurs something to him. His brow is furrowed, his eyes are wide, shoulders tense. He’s chewing on his lip, holding a cigarette and fishing out a lighter from his pocket. Freddie hands him something before crouching down again in front of Roe.

“Listen, love, Roger told me what happened. I’m going to get security, alright? Roger’s going to take you upstairs to a room. We paid for them earlier this afternoon, to surprise you. So, don’t worry, yes? Roger’s going to take you upstairs, alright? In the elevator. Then I want you to take a shower, drink some water, and go to bed. Do you understand?” Freddie is speaking slowly, calmly, voice soft. Many people may find it condescending in tone, but he knows that Roe suffers from overstimulation during panic attacks. Any loud or intense noises would only make this worse for her. Roe, still gasping, choking down the tears, nods at him.

“I’m sor-“

“Don’t you dare apologize, my love,” Freddie shakes his head. “This is not your fault. None of it. Are you alright to go with Roger?”

She nods again, frowning as she tries her damn hardest to breathe normally. Freddie smiles, stands, and speaks to Roger again briefly before going to find security.

“Don’t touch her, okay? It will only cause another wave of this. Just try and talk her through it.” He says as he passes the drummer, who makes a noise of understanding. Once Freddie disappears, Roger approaches Roe slowly, as though he may frighten her if his steps are too heavy or quick.

“Are you alright?” He murmurs.

Roe, in spite of herself, scoffs at him. “Am I alright? The fuck kind of question is that, Taylor?”

He can’t help but to smile at that. Looking at her, she doesn’t look fragile. She looks frightened, most certainly, but when she looks up at him, her eyes are not wide with fear. They are wild, angry, shiny with unshed tears. Her chest heaves in her attempt to breathe. She looks as though she’s just returned from war. Something in Roger’s chest aches.

“Let’s get the fuck out of here, Roe baby.”

They get to the elevator quickly enough, successfully avoiding the chaos that is the altercation between Matt and Brian. Roger wants more than anything to ask who the fuck that guy is and what the fuck his problem is, but something tells him now is not the time. Roe is still breathing hard, still crying, but he can tell she’s really trying to cover it up. It’s shocking to see her, the firecracker that she is, in this state of ungodly fear and frenzy. He wants to help, so he tries talking her through it, like Freddie suggested.

Except his chatter isn’t helpful, in Roe’s book. It’s distracting from her grounding exercises. She loses count when trying to steady her breathing. While waiting for the elevator, she feels like she finally has a hold of herself. Then Roger’s voice snaps her out of it, and her reverie slips through her fingers like sand.

“Are you still getting lyrics?”

Roe clenches her teeth together, shaking her head. She hasn’t felt the lyrics in several minutes. She closes her eyes and takes a deep breath in.

“Do you think he left?”

Roe exhales heavily and shrugs, trying to block out all thoughts of her soulmate. There’s a long moment of silence, and she’s feeling her composure return.

“Mine was going crazy earlier tonight, too.”

Roe opens her eyes and looks at the drummer. She catches his wistful expression. When he sees her staring, he shakes his head and smiles.

“She’s always singing something. Always has something stuck in her head.” His voice is longing. He doesn’t even try to mask it.

“And you have no idea what she’s singing.” She doesn’t phrase it like a question.

He shakes his head. “I don’t speak colors, Roe baby.”

They’re quiet for a moment except for the sound of Roe still trying to catch her breath.

“You know,” Roger drawls. “You probably need better coping mechanisms.”

“Fuck you.” Roe snaps, but she smirks a small bit.

“Fred would kill me.”

“Excuse me?”

“If I even tried hitting on you, Freddie would castrate me with one of my own cymbals.”

Roe tilts her head very slightly to the side. “You’ve put some thought into this.”

“I have.” Roger gives her a half smile.

The elevator door dings and opens, and Roe is relieved to see that it’s only the two of them getting on.

“We’re at the very top, so it may be a moment.” Roger presses the button to their floor. Roe nods and goes to sit in the corner of the elevator, head in her hands. Several seconds pass, but the anxiety doesn’t. She sobs a bit into her hands, frustrated.

“What do you usually do when it gets this bad?” Roger inquires quietly.

Roe groans, shakes her head. “It doesn’t usually get this bad. That’s the thing.” She wraps her arms around her legs and rests her chin on her knees. “Breathing exercises aren’t working. I feel like I’m dissociating. I can’t stop fucking crying.” She leans her head back and lets it rest against the elevator wall, staring up at the ceiling. It’s decorated with an oceanic aesthetic, abstract sea shells and fish, waves and seafoam patterns, a trident like symbol outlined in gold. Roe narrows her eyes in thought.

Neptune of the seas,

An answer for me please.

“I dance.” She ponders quietly. “That usually helps a lot.”

“Then do that!” Roger exclaims. She laughs out of her nose at the suggestion.

“I can’t fucking dance here, Roger. It’s an elevator.” She shuts her eyes.

“Doesn’t dancing require counting or something? You could try and go through it in your head?”

Roe opens her eyes and turns her head to peer at the drummer. “What makes you think that will work?”

Roger shrugs and folds his arms over his chest. “It’s what I do when I get pre-show jitters. I run through drumming patterns and tempo changes.”

She looks at him for a moment longer before nodding a little. That may work.

So, she turns her face towards the ceiling again and shuts her eyes, beginning with counts. It takes her a moment to find the right tempo, but once she does, she’s imagining the movements, forcing herself to inhale and exhale as she envisions the rise and fall of her shoulders with the rhythm of the counts.

On her first full breath, she holds it for a second, letting herself slowly fall into the momentum of the music. Her hands make small, subtle movements to trace the path of her turns. Her feet shuffle minutely, following her leaps and lines. Her breath comes back to her, slowly but surely. The tightness in her chest begins to unravel after several long moments. Soon enough, she’s feeling more composed, more capable of breathing, more safe. She opens her eyes and looks to Roger, wanting to thank him for his suggestion.

Instead, her eyes widen when she catches sight of his face. His cheekbones are tinted in shades of lilac and royal purple. His jaw is shaded in blue. Across his nose, whites and yellows bleed into one another. She realizes that this is what his soulmate indications look like. This is how his soulmate experiences the music that she hears, the songs that she sings. And Roe knows these colors. She’s seen them before, but never so solid or tangible, never so vivid. She’s become familiar with them in the past couple of months, basking in them while working in the dance studio, while singing in the shower, while spending hours upon hours in the lab. Roger has Lily of the Valley painted across his face in blooming watercolors. And Roe knows what that must mean.

“Ah, shit.”

Taglist

@voidfanfiction

#roger taylor #roger taylor imagine #roger taylor x oc #ben hardy x oc #ben hardy #queen #queen imagine #slow burn #soulmate au #bohemian rhapsody #borhap

116 notes · View notes

some-thing-diff-erent · 6 years

Text

Stray Kids reaction to you being taller than them (yet still younger)

Bang Byunchan

Chan never really cared for the fact that you were a lot taller than him. He saw you as the beautiful girl he wanted to spend the rest of his life with. Sure, your height might have made some situations akward, but you two always thought it was funny - you having to bend down to kiss him instead of the opposite.

“Who cares about your height? No matter how tall you are, you’ll always be my little sunshine!”

Kim Woojin

Woojin would feel more insecure than you. He always felt as if you didn’t perceive him as masculine enough. Always worrying, he would constantly try showing you how ‘manly’ he was. You never really noticed it until the two of you had the time to sit down and talk about how you really felt. In the end, it just made you closer to each other.

“(Y/N), what do you think of me?”

Lee Minho

Minho always knew you were uncomfortable with your height and the fact that you never felt feminine. So, he would always come up with ways to make you feel better - some ways comical, and others more romantic.

“You know I love you, don’t you?”

Seo Changbin

Rather than acting like Minho - supportive and loving - Changbin would be more aggravated at the fact that you felt insecure. He wanted you to know that you were perfect to him, but you just weren’t having it. Day by day, he would come home to see you alone and laying in your bed, not wanting to talk, and it would just break him.

“Oh (Y/N), why can’t you just understand that I love you, no matter how tall you are?”

Hwang Hyunjin

Hyunjin would always try to make light of the situation by overflowing you with complements. He knew your relationship may face some backlash from his fans just because you were taller (a/n: but rly tho fans these days find ANYTHING to be mad about smh), so he wanted to try his best to keep you from feeling down about it.

“You’re so beautiful, (Y/N)…no one cares about your height.”

Han Jisung

Jisung never really understood how you felt. He thought you were fine with the fact that you were taller than him, and he always saw you as beautiful and feminine. So, therefore, he had no reason to think different.

“Sweetie, you’re perfect just the way you are…”

Lee Felix

Felix was always a loving person. No matter how you were feeling, whether you were sad or mad, he was always there to make you feel better. So, when he noticed that you were starting to feel insecure about your femininity and your height, he was right there to make you happier.

“(Y/N), there’s no need to feel bad…you’re perfect in my eyes…”

Kim Seungmin

Seungmin knew how you felt - he could read you like a book. And so, because he was always so comical and funny, he would try his better to make light of the situation. Sometimes, he would try on your heels and dance around the living room, and other times he would walk around on his tiptoes - but either way, it would always end with the two of you rolling around on the ground, laughing.

“How do women wear the-these things all day long?!”

Yang Jeongin

This ball of sunshine absolutely loved the fact that you were taller than him, even though you may have been nervous. He would always show you off to his friends to show you how much he loved you. If someone ever made a negative comment about your height, he would be the one to step in and defend you.

“Look at her! Isn’t my jagi just gorgeous?!”

_____________________________________________

Wow, okay, I’m sorry. I know that was absolute trash, but I just don’t feel well, especially after the news about jonghyun. Anyway, I hope you still liked it…

- Bri 💜💜

132 notes · View notes

daysswithyou · 6 years

Text

Bass Pulse

Characters: DAY6 Young K x OC

Genre: fluff, romance

Words: 2.3k

Description: when the bass reverberates within you, there’s no fighting it – the story of how Young K tries to teach you bass

Author’s note: The opening scene is inspired by the story “Paris for One” by Jojo Moyes – highly recommend her books if you’re looking for romance and slice of life stories rolled into one!

---

Y/N POV

I’m at my wits end. I’ve been trying for hours, but I still couldn’t get this particular chord progression right! No matter how many times I’ve listened to the same piece over and over again, certain that I’ve already memorised the timing and correct sequence of chords, I still couldn’t get the right timing and I end up messing up the rest of the song. I fumble with pressing and plucking the right chords and by now, my fingers were raw, the tip of them stinging with pain on the cold winter night. I set the bass down for a while, sinking into the soft sofa as my hands shivered from the overexertion, the slight tremors a sensation unwelcomed by my body.

I glared at my bass guitar with loathing and hatred, as though it was his fault that I couldn’t play it well.

One more time. One more shot at this. If I still can’t get it, then I’m calling it a day.

Young K POV

I’m not going to lie. That bass guitar playing was really awful.

I was on the way back to the dorm after spending the entire studio cooped up in the studio practising bass with cups of black coffee to get me through. I managed to leave with my fingers red but heart satisfied; the method of keeping me awake and sane once again tested and proven. I was expecting a quiet, peaceful walk back but as usual, life likes to surprise you a little. The window was open so I could hear each chord that broke through the silent night very clearly. The pre-chorus started out very well – the progression were smooth and on time, staying through to the original composer’s idea of the song. The chorus was where he or she messed up really badly. The timing between each chord was off and the note didn’t come out the way it should – it sounded like a piece being haphazardly put together, like patches on a piece of quilt work. Towards the end, the player was just playing however she liked and I’m not even sure if I can call that music anymore – it seems more like individual notes being put together in desperation. When the song ended, the sound of a dying whale can be heard from the open balcony and I had to place a hand over my mouth to prevent myself from laughing out loud.

Let’s try something now…

Unzipping my bag, I took out my bass, and simply began to play the exact same song.

Y/N POV

Nope, I still can’t get it.

Letting out a strangled cry from my throat as I buried my head in the hands, I berated myself for the poor playing just now – wondering how on earth I am going to be presentable for new performance, Maybe I should call Megan and tell her that I can’t do it.

I had typed out the message swiftly and was all ready to press send – until I heard the sound of my saviour.

The first few chords started out low and deliberate, giving me the feeling of a predator creeping up on a prey. With the hairs of on the back of my neck standing and nerves tingling, I went out to the balcony and looked down below at the source – and I was captivated the moment I laid eyes on him.

He played the bass like he owned it, the guitar doing his bidding with every pluck and press of the strings. His entire body swayed with the music, his face a mixture of concentration and ecstasy as he switched between carrying the music, and letting the music carry him instead. It was like watching a magic show, him the magician and me the audience; I completely submitted to him, the magic of his music ensnaring me within his grasp.

When he ended, he turned to look at me, clearly aware that I was watching him all this while. He then tried to suppress a smile as I stared with my mouth agape. He then opened his mouth to say the words I’ve been wanting to hear.

“I can teach you how to play bass if you want to.”

I closed my mouth and nodded – I wasn’t going to let this chance slip away.

The next day, you ended up outside a studio with your bass slung around your shoulders before you knocked on the door.

A familiar voice came through – “Come in!”

Peeking a head through, you greeted Brian before stepping into the threshold. He hastily cleared away empty coffee cups and scattered pieces of paper filled with black ink.

“Rushing a deadline?”

“Yea, it’s just pure madness at this point in time. I’m so sorry you had to see this mess.”

“It’s alright, I’m used to such a sight.”

His raised eyebrows indicated that you should probably explain yourself.

“I’m part of a school band and this is how it looks like on days when we aren’t practising.”

“Ah~ you can hand me your bass now.”

“Huh?”

“I’ll just do some tuning for you, I could hear some loose chords last night.”

Without another word, you slung the bass of your shoulder and passed it to him. You leaned against the table as he sat down on the sofa, placing the bass against his thighs. Craning his head forward, he begun plucking the strings.

Brian didn’t know why he was so casual about giving bass lessons to someone he barely knew – it was intangible and he couldn’t put the feeling into words but he just didn’t have that guard up around you. He didn’t even know he did what he did last night! Before he knew it, you were already exchanging numbers and here you were now watching him. But still, he had to be sure that you didn’t know his true identity.

“Hey, do you know a band called Day6?”

“Yes. I listen to them and I think my friend likes them.”

“Then do you know of the members?”

“Nope. I just like their songs but I hadn’t had the time to really find out more about the members yet.”

“Hmmm”

Great, she doesn’t know my true identity.

Brian seemed so casual asking you those questions but you were a mess inside. Here was a ridiculously attractive man helping you tune your guitar and you were failing terribly at trying not to stare at him so openly. You watched as his fingers moved expertly around the bass, the look of concentration on his face making him look a hundred times hotter.

Stop it Y/N! Stop being so thirsty for men gosh what’s wrong with you?

“All done. Now we can start proper.”

He then smiled sweetly at you and you swore under your breath – if it weren’t for the table, your knees would have given way.

Since that day, you’ve been spending every waking hour with Brian in some sort of way. If he wasn’t teaching you bass physically, he was texting you. He would randomly send you photos of his day, but mostly photos of his new hair colour and food. You would always smile and giggle to yourself when you look at his funny captions or comical facial expressions over the screen, happy that he allowed you to be part of his world. As for Brian, he was happy that you’ll always reply his messages because you sincerely wanted to know about his day. He didn’t know how something as simple as teaching you how to play could turn into friendship and now, something foreign but not entirely unwelcomed was stirring up within him. Was this what an inkling of love felt like? Brian wasn’t sure yet, but he was sure that he liked spending time with you.

And so every night, both of you would lie in bed wide awake, talking to the moon and wondering if the other felt the same way.

Today, Brian was going to challenge you with a particularly tough piece but you still weren’t confident in playing in yet.

“Brian I’m going to practise a little first. You can carry on with you other work.”

“Sure. Let me know when you’re ready.”

Licking your lips in nervousness, you began plucking the strings tentatively but your insecurity was showing – both you and Brian knew this fact. Yet, you refused to ask Brian for help, worried that your heart would go into overdrive if he came close. However, his actions weren’t for you to decide and when you heard him get up from the chair to come behind you, you began to brace yourself for the mad blushing that would come.

Placing his head beside yours, he gently closed his hands around yours before guiding your fingers on how to pluck the correct strings with the correct amount of strength. But by now, you weren’t paying attention to his lessons anymore – you were more focused on trying to calm your wild heart and steady your breaths. His sweet breath in your ear sent shivers down your neck and his warm hands over yours set all your nerves on fire – and suddenly, every sensation you felt became magnified by a thousand-fold.

“Do you understand now?”

You nodded your head slowly, not trusting yourself to be able to make another sound.

“That’s good.”

As both your hands shivered slightly from the close contact, both of you were will well aware that the shivers weren’t due to the cold and it dawned on both of you that there was no turning back now.

Oh shit.

“Bri” lighted up on your phone screen and you swiped the green button.

“Hello?”

“Hey Y/N sorry to bother you, were you asleep already?”

“Not at all. What’s up?”

“So erm… I have this new song that I just wrote and I was hoping that you’ll sing a part of it?”

You couldn’t believe your ears – you, singing, for a Brian track?

“I would love to but…”

“But…?”

“I don’t want to make people go deaf!”

“No you won’t! I’m sure you’ll do fine! Please just try…?”

You know that he wasn’t going to force you if you didn’t want to but you could hear the pleading tone in his voice – after all that he’s done to help you with playing bass, the least you could do it is help him out right?

“I’ll help you but if I suck you have to tell me honestly ok?”

“Thank you Y/N! WOO!”

You smiled to yourself – you can already imagine him jumping up from the chair and leaping around the studio.

“This is a really sweet song. A special someone I suppose?”

“No, they’re just experiences from others that I’ve tried to put into words.”

“Ah… Let’s start recording? I think I got the feeling of how this goes.”

“Sure.”

You gave your all into recording the song, and you enjoyed the experience of doing it with Brian and at the end of the song, you let pure joy spill forth as laughter as both you stared into each other’s eyes and realising how much you appreciated being with the other.

In that moment, everything was picture perfect, except that you didn’t know that you were singing about yourself.

Epilogue

Day6 had just dropped a new album and your bandmates were the first to get their hands on the album and here the five of you were – seated in the studio as their new songs played over the speaker.

Everything was going fine – until you heard your voice over the speakers.

“Wait is that…” Lisa, your friend had only began to speak until Emily shut her up. All eyes were now of you as your voice played over the speakers and the laughter at the end – that was unmistakably you. You recognised the song – this was the track that you recorded with Brian a month ago. Before anyone could pepper you with questions, you confirmed your own suspicions yourself.

“Show me a photo of Day6.”

Lisa didn’t need telling twice. She immediately showed you a group photo and there he was staring back at you – those unique feline eyes and angular features definitely belonged to the Brain you knew.

“Look, more proof.”

“Give me that.”

You began to scan each line of Brain’s “Thanks to” (or should you say Young K) instead and the last line confirmed your suspicions.

“This is for my greatest muse – the last track is for you.”

“Excuse me, I have to go.”

Legs racing and heart pumping, you didn’t stop till you got to his studio, where you burst into his studio without even knocking.

“You’re Young K from Day6!”

Amused, Brian chuckled. “Took you long enough to figure that out.”

In slight anger, you smacked the bassist across his shoulders.

“How could you lie to me!”

“I didn’t lie! I really am Brian! But perhaps I just left out the part where I am a member of Day6?”

“ARGH BRIAN!!!”

“Calm down Y/N! I suppose you heard the song already?”

“Yes I did – gosh – you!”

“What about me?”

“You just confessed publicly and now the whole world knows and I feel like a fool for not knowing your true identity!”

You covered your face in embarrassment, horrified at how dense you were.

Gently prying your hands from your face, Brian replaced them with his own as he made you look into his eyes.

“One, yes I just did. Two, it doesn’t matter if the whole world knows, I want the whole world to know that I love you. Three, you’re not a fool, you’re just really innocent. Four…”

“What’s number four?”

“Do you feel the same way?”

“After you just publicly professed your love, I don’t think I have the heart to say no.”

You watched as he grinned from ear to ear before pressing his lips against yours.

“Now I can finally say that I know what loves feels like.”

#day6writersnet #day6 imagines #day6 scenarios #young k scenario #young k imagine #day6 #day6 young k #kang younghyun #brian kang #bribri

102 notes · View notes

natasha-cole · 7 years

Text

Like the Heart Goes Chapter 7: I try to think about tomorrow, but I can’t forget today

Just got home from comic con, so I wrote a quick chapter. Nothing special, just moving the story along.

Pairing: Rob Benedict x Reader

Summary: Breaking up is hard. Especially when you are going through it publicly. Rob and Reader are doing just that; trying to navigate the difficulties of an emotional breakup while still trying to remain civil enough to work together, and adding inquisitive fans and over involved friends to the equation certainly isn’t helping.

Embarrassed over her own outburst at the concert, Reader finally breaks down. It’s good to have a friend to cry on. Now, she has to decide what to do next.

Word Count: 2446

Warnings: angst

Catch Up: Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6

*here’s my lame fic aesthetic, I feel better having one so I can tell my two series’ apart.*

You ignored Briana calling out to you as you stormed off toward your room. You could barely see as tears stung your eyes, her voice muffled as you couldn’t even hear over the sound of your own crying. It must have been quite the sight; you, sobbing your way down the hallway with Briana pleading with you to stop. You couldn’t bring yourself to stop and face her. You knew she only wanted to console you, let you know that you weren’t alone. However, the entire thing had been so humiliating and devastating; you only wanted to be left alone. You walked quickly, feeling as if your heart had shattered into a million pieces. You didn’t want anyone to see you like this and you sure as hell didn’t want to feel like this.

Briana caught up with you as you stopped outside of your hotel room. You fumbled with the key card, your hands shaking uncontrollably, body still wracked with sobs. No matter how much you wanted to keep it together, you couldn’t. you felt out of control and you wanted so desperately to be alone. Briana watched you as you tried to open the door, she didn’t speak, didn’t move; she let you do whatever it was that you were set out to do.

When you finally had your door open, you entered the room, Briana right behind you and the door fell shut behind you both.

“Bri, I-“ you tried to speak, reassure her that you were okay.

Before you could finish your sentence, Briana grabbed you, wrapping her arms around you and pulling you in for a hug. You tried to pull away, not sure why you didn’t want her to touch you, but she very stubbornly kept her grip tight on you. Eventually, you stopped trying to fight her. You wrapped your arms around her in return, burying your face into her shoulder and began to cry harder. You let her hold you, finally feeling some relief in the fact that someone cared enough about how you were feeling to just hug you and let you cry. So, that’s what you did. You let it all out.

You expected her to say something, ask questions. Surely, everyone had questions right now that you weren’t sure if you were ready to answer. But, Briana didn’t say anything. She just let you cry for as long as you needed to. Truth be told, this had been the best cry that you had had since Rob left. You were so busy hiding things, acting as if you were okay; you had finally reached the point where everything had just built up so much, the only thing left to do was let it out.

You stayed like that for some time; Briana holding you while you cried until you finally felt like you had let most of it out.

“Thank you,” you sniffled as you finally pulled away from her. This time, she let you move away. You wiped your tears from your face, hands now streaked in black from your makeup that had smeared. “You didn’t have to…”

“My friend loses her shit like that… you better believe I’m chasing you down.”

“I’m so stupid,” you muttered, rubbing your face in embarrassment now. Not only over the breakdown you had had in front of Bri, but everything in general.

“You’re not stupid, Y/N,” she said, “I’m not gonna ask you for details right now, but I need to know that you’re okay.”

You stared at her, fighting back the urge to cry again. Maybe you weren’t quite done, but you forced the tears back. “I’m not okay, Bri… I can’t even be around him without feeling like I’m breaking all over again.”

“What do we need to do?”

“I need to pack my stuff and hope there’s a flight back home soon.”

“Y/N, it’s after midnight and you’re a wreck.”

“I can’t stay here with him any longer Bri,” you choked out, “I can’t do this anymore.”

“Okay, we’ll get your stuff and you can stay with me tonight. We’ll figure out the rest in the morning.”

“I shouldn’t have thrown that stupid kazoo at him.” You felt your face heat up as you became embarrassed by your overreaction on stage. “I’m such a child.”

“Are you kidding?” Bri gave you a small smile, “you should’ve aimed for his face.”

You let out a forced chuckle, still not impressed with yourself over how you had handled things. “I’m just… not handling this well at all. Why am I acting this way?”

“Obviously he did something to hurt you, you’re heartbroken. Heartbreak does crazy things to people. It doesn’t help that you let it build up like that.”

“I don’t want to be that girl who is this devastated over a man.”

“You’ve been together for a long time. You have to let yourself feel that pain, otherwise, you’ll go crazy.”

“Why does it hurt so much? How do I make it stop?”

“It hurts because you love him. I can’t tell you how to make it stop, you just need time.”

You and Briana gathered your belongings, packing quietly as you continued to sniffle, still fighting back tears. When you had everything, you both hauled it off to her room. She helped you get settled as you changed into pajamas. You suddenly realized how exhausted you were and you crawled into bed. The past few days had finally caught up with you in more ways than one. The lack of sleep, the sadness, the anger… it was all here now, and you couldn’t run from it any longer. Briana crawled into bed next to you, holding you again as you snuggled into her. It wasn’t the same as having Rob console you, but it helped to have someone there for you.

“I’m here for you, whenever you’re ready to talk,” Briana said. You felt her hand rubbing against your back.

“Thank you, Bri,” You replied, “I just… don’t know how everything went so badly.”

“Can I ask what happened?”

“He just left me. Said he wasn’t happy, said neither of us were happy. I tried. I tried so hard to be happy, it was hard with him never being around. But, I love him and I was doing what I could to see him, to make sure he knew I was there. I don’t know what I did wrong.”

“I’m sure you did nothing wrong.”

“All I ever did was wait for him. I gave up so much to be there for him when he was actually around. It wasn’t enough though… I wasn’t enough for him.”

“He works so much. Honestly, I’m not sure how you put up with it all this time.”

“I would have done anything for him,” you continued, “I know we disagreed on a lot, but we always made it work. We always bounced back.”

“Your bickering was adorable, and you always seemed to get it together. Is that what this was about? Did he leave because of the arguing?”

“I don’t know… maybe? He hasn’t given me a real explanation. Not one that makes sense anyway. Maybe he was just tired of it? Maybe I pushed him too far.”

“Don’t beat yourself up over this, Y/N,” Briana said, “it sounds like you’re not to blame here.”

“The worst part is that he left me right before the con, told me that he wanted to keep it between us, pretend that we were okay. And I went along with it even though it was killing me.”

“And, it all just became too much, which is why you snapped.”

“I can’t stay around,” you explained, knowing that spending one more day around Rob was only going to make things worse, “I just want to go home.”

It was a combination of a lot of things that had you wanting to bail on the last day of the con. You had been embarrassed, devastated, and put in an awkward situation by having to share a room with the man who had broken your heart only days ago. You still had no clue as to what exactly went wrong, and you weren’t sure you would ever get that closure from him. All you wanted to do was go home and let yourself cry some more, out of view of your friends and the fans. This was the worst place to be going through this, and you questioned why you hadn’t backed out of the con in the first place.

“We’ll get you home tomorrow,” Briana said, “right now, you just need to sleep.” Briana didn’t let you go as you moved in closer to her. You pressed your face into your pillow and let yourself cry again, tired over the toll all of these emotions were taking on you. Neither of you spoke for the rest of the night; and after what felt like hours of just crying, you drifted off to sleep without realizing it.

The next morning, you woke up to Briana moving around the room. You glanced up at her as she hurried around, getting dressed and ready for the day.

“What time is it?” You asked sleepily.

“It’s after nine,” she replied, “we slept in a little late.”

You groaned, knowing that nine was too late to sleep, but you still felt like you hadn’t slept at all.

“I’ve got to get down to the convention, and when I get a break, I’ll help you decide what to do.”

“Don’t worry about it,” you replied, “I’m just going to pack up and head to the airport. I’ll wait there all day for a flight home if I have to.”

“I wish you wouldn’t,” she frowned.

“I know,” you said, “but I’m doing it anyway.”

“Alright, but I’m coming over to check on you once I get back to town.”

“Thank you, Briana,” you said again. All of the ‘thank yous’ in the world couldn’t express how much it had meant to you to have her there.

Briana moved toward you, leaning down to hug you tightly before she headed for the door. “Let me know how it goes at the airport. You can stay here again tonight if you can’t get a flight back.”

You nodded as she left the room. When she was gone, you hurriedly got out of bed and got dressed. You stuffed your belongings back into your suitcase haphazardly, only wanting to get out of there as quickly as you could. You hoped that you hadn’t made things weird between Rob and everyone else. Surely, your breakdown had them all wondering what the hell had happened, but you were sure that Rob would come up with a way to make it seems less serious than it was. Hell, he’d probably figure out a way to convince them that the split had been mutual, despite your disagreement over that last night. You never wanted to make your workplace a bad place. Unfortunately, you had dragged your coworkers into your drama when they all decided to hang around to watch the show unfold after you lost it on stage. Not only had you humiliated yourself in front of Rob, you had also humiliated yourself in front of your friends. You weren’t sure if you could face any of them again. At least Briana knew a little more, you knew she would be there for you. You also hoped she wouldn’t talk about it to anyone else.

The best thing for you to do right now was go back home and hide until you felt that you could face the world again. Facing Rob again? Well, that was a whole different thing completely. You honestly weren’t sure if you would ever get to that point.

You had managed to get a cab to the airport easily, and as luck would have it, there was a flight home within the hour with extra seats. You happily booked the flight and waited at the gate.

Maybe running from the problem wasn’t the best way to go, but you really didn’t think you could continue to be around Rob and still keep your sanity. You had been dumped before, but for some reason, nothing hurt quite like this.

You replayed the past week in your mind as you waited to board your flight. It all made sense in a way. Neither of you had been exactly happy, but you still tried. You worked toward getting back to being happy. Rob on the other hand, he had given up completely. Maybe that was why it hurt so much… knowing that you wanted to make it work, but he no longer cared enough to try. You suddenly felt very inadequate; maybe you weren’t worth the hassle of trying to work things out. Maybe, he had just fallen out of love with you. The thought made your chest ache; knowing that you were still in love with someone who could hurt you like this, knowing that you still loved him even though he didn’t love you now. You wanted to force yourself to stop thinking of him, stop wanting to be with him, stop missing him. You couldn’t though. All you wanted was to have him back. This was going to take a lot to get through and you now questioned whether you could continue to work with him.

Your mind continued to race with thoughts and doubts all through your flight home. You wanted to stop thinking, and you hoped that being back home, alone, would help you. Near the end of your flight, you realized that for the first time, you hadn’t been gripping the arm rests, wracked with fear over the idea of flying. If anything, your unstoppable thoughts about Rob had almost made you forget that you were on a plane in the first place. But, now that you were back in L.A., the awareness hit you that you would be going home. You would be going back to you and Rob’s house alone. That in itself brought on a whole new level of fear. It was nothing new, being alone there; but you also knew that Rob was no longer going to come back to it, he was no longer going to come back to you.

Truth be told, you weren’t sure that you wanted to go back home now either. It held too many memories, and you didn’t think you could handle it. Maybe, the best thing you could do at this point was erase him from your life completely. It was the only thing that you could think of to stop yourself from hurting.

Tag List: @gabriels-trix @waywardswain @winchestergirl-13 @soythedemonqueen @laffytaffyhumor @hunterpuff @smoothdogsgirl @reparo-live-soul @riversong-sam @lamthetwickster @angelsandhuntersgalore @girl-next-door-rps

#rob benedict x reader #rob benedict fan fiction #Like The Heart Goes

51 notes · View notes