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One For The Road. // Mentor!Alex Turner X FreshSinger!Reader (Smut) Part 1

Prompt: (Age Gap Fic;Fem!Reader) Alex is on an extended hiatus from the band and finds himself wanting to start a studio to recruit new talent. One day, he hears a voice on the radio that captivates him, so he jots down the name and, with that voice stuck in his head, searches for it on Google. When he finds you, you both decide to work together for your growth, setting off a journey filled with new melodies, issues with paparazzi and online exposure, and Alex being completely smitten with his latest discovery and love.

Words: 9,5K

A/N: The fic was planned in three chapters: before the recognition (fame), during the recognition (fame), and after the recognition (fame).

Alex felt fulfilled, both physically and emotionally; he didn’t need any additional elements to complete his sense of satisfaction. During the band's extended break, due to various factors like other members' children and James admitting that a break would be beneficial, Alex found himself contemplating new possibilities. Unable to step away from music entirely, he set up a studio and handled other bureaucratic aspects for future artists. This was his way of giving back to an industry that had been so rewarding for him.

He didn’t know much about the artist he was suddenly into, only that sabe was a young girl with a captivating presence. Alex had heard your voice in the car before visiting Miles. It had a numbing effect on him, in a good way, leaving him sitting in the parked car after arriving, gazing out the window and absorbing every word you sang as if they were drops of water in the desert. It was strange, but it was exactly what he needed.

Your voice was raw with potential but still unrefined—you were not bad, just clearly new. The lyrics were sweet and nostalgic, evoking feelings that seemed foreign yet familiar. Alex found your work mature in a way he hadn’t been when he first started making music. He couldn’t picture your face, hair, or preferred style, but your voice lingered in his mind; the breaths, pauses, sometimes resembling soft and failed sighs, were compelling.

After the song ended, he stared at the radio display, waiting for your name to be announced. He quickly grabbed a notebook to jot down before he could forget.

Alex briefly mentioned you during dinner with Miles, running his fingers through his hair absentmindedly. His friend could tell that you had affected him in some way. "Just a girl, huh? How many times have you listened to her songs, Al?" Alex was usually romantic in his descriptions, this time he swore he had been succinct—though he felt he had failed. As the visit was coming to an end, all he could think about was your voice; he had to share you with someone else.

"Not many," he admitted honestly, though it wasn’t very convincing. Miles laughed, indicating he would listen later. His friend's recommendations were always reliable.

…

Finding you on the internet wasn’t easy. Alex had written down the wrong surname, which delayed his search longer than anticipated. You had no professional recordings, and later Alex discovered that the radio segment he had heard was an exclusive broadcast for new artists. All he found were amateur videos on YouTube of you singing in some pubs, with poor audio quality that didn’t do you justice. He listened to them repeatedly over the next few days.

The videos with better resolution were watched more often, and although Alex feared it might be due to your angelic face, he tried to avoid focusing on the fact that you were younger than him–perhaps more than he could point out. Nevertheless, as he closed his eyes before sleeping, he often imagined you from the video of your channel, wearing that summer wine dress with the straps slightly falling off. He imagined gently adjusting them with his finger, smoothing your hair while your calm eyes followed him. Your head falling affectionately into the caress of his palm and a brief wet kiss to your temple as your eyelashes flutter; not that he thought he would have such an effect on you.

It was indescribable how your voice occupied his mind more than anything else. He found himself humming snippets of your lyrics in the shower, while cooking, every end of the day. When he called Miles the next weeknd, his friend knew exactly what to expect.

…

You were delicate, and the words flowed from your lips effortlessly. Indeed, the cameras, the analog look, and the audio from the YouTube recordings didn’t do justice to what it was like to experience you live. There were few people, mostly around your age, though some appeared older with their doubtful expressions. It was a pleasant environment.

He watched you from a distance, neither too far nor too close. Wearing a white collared shirt, jeans, and a brown jacket, he kept his sunglasses on even at night to avoid being easily recognized. Occasionally, he slid the glasses down his nose to get a clearer view of you without the lenses.

You held the microphone gently, as if it weighed nothing, intertwining the cord between your fingers and taking small steps across the makeshift, tiny stage. Most people were distracted, but many took a moment to watch and listen to your music. Sometimes your voice faltered, and he noticed your disappointment, but you were so endearing.

You wore white tights and a black dress with a Peter Pan collar; Alex thought it suited you perfectly. He adjusted the edges of his shirt peeking out from under his jacket, a reflex of how your fingers nervously fidgeted with the fabric of your dress on stage. He smiled sweetly, as if hoping you could see and feel encouraged by it. You were doing well.

At the end, which was marked by silence following your thanks, he began clapping, soon joined by everyone else. You tried not to look around too much, not expecting the applause, and Alex was pleased to see you so happy.

You held a glass in your hand, chatting with the guitarist. Alex could easily see himself playing guitar alongside you in that dimly lit place filled with long, whispered conversations that created an intimate atmosphere. The guitarist nudged you, indicating Alex standing in front of you. When you turned, Alex felt his palms sweating and had to hide them in his pockets. You were even more beautiful up close; your posture wasn’t perfectly straight, but he noticed your charming walk and had to avoid smiling.

Alex felt more awkward than a teenager talking to girls, and he wasn’t proud of it. You greeted him with a warm smile, and before he could say anything, he knew you were as warm as you looked. “I enjoyed your performance up there. You sing really well, and the original lyrics are great. You’re very talented.” The compliment came out smoothly because he had practiced it many times. He felt his face flush, knowing he was fully red.

You bit your lips, offering a shy smile and resting your fingers right around the edges of your dress. Alex found this to be an adorable habit of yours. If he could, he would have held your hand and provided some distraction from whatever you were thinking. You thanked him, unsure of what to do or say but sincere nonetheless. When Alex offered a drink, he noticed your hesitation, but there wasn’t anything better for you to do than share a drink with someone who, for reasons you couldn’t quite place, seemed familiar. He was being nice.

“I don’t think anyone has ever come to see me sing so well-dressed,” you said, your eyes sparkling. Alex felt that in a few hours, you’d be more comfortable around him.

Noticing your assessment of his outfit, you could tell it wasn’t cheap; the fabric of his button-up shirt was well-tailored, the collar had a unique design, and the jacket was definitely leather. Not that you knew much about such things, but you didn’t see many like that.

Alex saw you enveloping your hands and didn’t think twice before taking off his jacket and draping it over you. Fingers touched your icy skin and he wished he had noticed sooner. You didn’t resist, your expression showed that you needed it; you merely nodded in thanks. “Don’t you think you deserve it?” Alex hadn’t intended it to sound flirtatious, but he realized it as soon as the words left his mouth. You shook your head, giving a half-hearted laugh.

He considered apologizing, but you continued, “I think it’s nice to think that someone would dress up to see me here, you know? To know that you’d come to see me sing and then anticipate it throughout the day, even considering what outfit would be most suitable or comfortable. It’s kind.” You were much more eloquent than he was, your words flowed naturally.

You sighed in relief, snuggling into the leather and tucking your hands into the long sleeves. Alex felt his chest warm up. You gestured animatedly while speaking, clearly excited, and probably didn’t even notice when your knees brushed together and stayed there in a pleasant touch that made him not want to move. “Well, if it helps, I heard you on the radio the other day and wanted to see you in person.” He breathed between his words, his voice deepening with the pauses.

You nodded, brushing off the compliment, not because you disliked it but because you didn’t want to deal with it. “I like your accent; it makes you sound older than you are.” Your shoulders brushed together, casually but comfortably, a result of your restlessness. There was a brief silence as you both listened to each other’s calm breathing amidst the background noise of drinks.

Maybe the contact was what mattered; Alex hadn’t planned this poorly. Despite his struggle with succinct communication, he explained the record label project, detailing the steps and what could be done if you wanted to pursue something more professional. At some point, you stopped listening to him, your eyes wandering over his dark hair cascading in beautiful waves, the furrow between the eyebrows, his perfectly shaped mouth, and the stubble that was starting to grow. He gestured less than you did, but his large yet delicate hands made him seem like a Christmas ornament, like men in '80s movies or even a younger Al Pacino.

“I’m listening, but I wouldn’t have the money for it; I can’t even afford a guitar. I play in pubs because I can use their instruments; they don’t pay well, and sometimes it’s just beer and food.” You spoke honestly, without bitterness about how it limited your dreams. You had the purity of someone who believed it was for you. Someone bumped into your chair, causing Alex to steady it, which brought your bodies closer together. He could now distinguish the exact color of your eyes and the scent of your hair. His mouth went dry. “That’s my point; you get paid so I can help you get heard and recognized for your work.”

…

"Did you set up the record label for the girl?" Miles carried a hint of truth, though he knew it was initially Alex’s idea, and you were the final touch that made it happen.

"It’s not like that, she’s really good. You’ll meet her." Alex’s voice carried warmth and anticipation; in a few months, you’d be fully immersed in this with him.

"And does she know what’s going on in your head? Like, the reason for your soft tone and silly grin when you mention her name? I might be wrong, but it doesn’t seem like you’re just thinking of her as a musician, Alex."

He shook his head, as if Miles could see him. "It’s nothing. I just want to help her with this. Besides, I’m not at that stage; we don’t fit in the same place." The idea of putting all that into words hurt a little.

The conversation continued, as if that settled the matter, both on the call and in real life. But Miles’s final words were, "Alex, I’m sure this will hurt her more than it will hurt you; you don't deal well with reason, your feelings will get in the way.”

And though it stung, it might be true—something to consider with concern. But would it really be so bad to spend all that time with you?

…

You learned who he was and thought it might be a scam, but a simple Google search left you stunned. You clearly knew the band, just not his exact current appearance; it certainly wasn’t like in the “Cornerstone” video, but the more recent ones fit the style of a dad with a six-year-old daughter, which was pleasant. Your friends were happy for you, even if they were as incredulous as you.

“It’s quite big; will more people be coming here?” Your voice echoed through the studio, your fingertips freezing. You’d arrived a few weeks ago and had some singing lessons Alex had arranged with another professional, but from then on, you feared he would be your sole tutor.

“For now, yes, but later there’ll be more people.” You nodded, hands in the pockets of your dress. LA was hot, he was killing you with that air conditioning. He had shown you every corner, you felt quite comfortable; the place had guitars on the wall, basses, and a drum set from that inaccessible brand. You stood in front of him, looking like a lost child, genuinely waiting for what to do next. It took him a moment, but he understood.

“Okay, I didn’t plan this out too well,” he laughed softly. He mentioned having read the songs you sent, even though he had heard them before, now he knew the exact lyrics. “Is it okay if I use the equipment?” Your question was followed by the tips of your fingers touching one of the microphones and holding the headphones, waiting for his response.

“Feel free to use whatever you want, little one.” Your cheeks were warm, making you bite the bottom of them. You looked confused at the buttons; they were just buttons with no informative labels. Alex had forgotten that this was familiar only to him. “Sure, it’s a good idea to get you familiar with everything first, then we can see what to do.” It sounded like a good idea.

The time passed quickly; what took hours, with Alex, seemed like minutes. Sometimes silence would fall over you both, but it was so comfortable. He had a pleasant voice, explaining things as if they weren’t intuitive, and you could visualize them. You liked it. His hair was longer than the last time you saw him, falling into a cute fringe over his eyes, which shone brightly as he spoke and gestured. He wore a suit and a button-up shirt, making no sense given the amount of fabric he was wearing in the LA sun.

“It’s pretty heavy, Turner,” he had given you a red guitar with white detailing, the side bearing his last name. It had clearly been through some battles but was beautiful. Alex found your pronunciation of the “r” endearing, rolled on your tongue and lingering. No one called him that around; it could be your thing. The guitars you had played were lighter, less durable.

“You can play if you want. You can also make it your own; it’s a good idea to get used to a specific one for now.” You listened, wondering why you wanted him to call you “little one” again. You held the strap, looking at the floor. “I don’t know how to play,” your voice was weak, your fingers pressing the strings without making any sound. He nodded, understanding you.

“What don’t you know, little one?” His face was calm, as if it didn’t cross his mind that you might be a fraud. His body was positioned behind yours, and you felt your heart racing; you were sure he could hear it. He placed his hand on the neck of the guitar, adjusting some strings.

What happened was: you would hum melodies, your friends would map out the notes, next you had them with you.

“I only remember my songs, which are few. I memorized them with the help of some friends at the pub.” You didn’t like how that sounded. You stepped back without thinking, bumping into Alex’s firm chest. He held your waist, noticing your nervousness. You still smelled the same as before.

“There’s nothing wrong with that; no one is born knowing. I learned a lot from the first album ‘til now; we can work on that if you want.” You heard the guttural sound he made when speaking slowly in your ear, dangerously close. “Do you want to try something?” he asked, a little before plucking a small segment of one of your songs. Alex had heard it so much that he had memorized the chords. You found it strange but ignored it; controlling your breathing was more complicated.

“I don’t know, Turner,” he laughed, the pleasant nasal sound close, with his blazer rubbing against your bare arms. He took your hands in his, guiding your fingers as he wanted, explaining each string press and brief sound. It took some time, and due to your anxiety, it seemed to take longer than usual.

“It doesn’t seem to sound very good,” you impulsively turned your face to look at him. His eyes, which had been on your hands, moved to your face, and it was closer than you had experienced before. “But it will, you know?” He smiled, his slightly crooked lower teeth noticeable to you, as well as the light beard scars and age lines around his eyes. God, he was so beautiful.

“You’re doing well, lil’ one; you just need to relax and be more patient.” You felt your fingers ache, pulling your hands slightly away from Alex’s. “You trust me a lot.” He noticed the superficial cut, the tips of your fingers bruised a bit, pretty normal, and you seemed quite calm about it. “Shouldn’t you? Trust yourself? I haven’t seen anything in you so far that doesn’t show how good you are at what you do...” The sentence was lost, somewhat unformed, but you wished he would talk about you like that more often. He took your finger, drying it with the edge of his shirt, which had become slightly reddened, and pressed until it stopped. It was hard not to just look at him. Your cold hands made Alex make a mental note that you weren’t a big fan of the air conditioning or that maybe your clothes were too short and thin.

…

On the same night, before heading back to the hotel, Alex suggested you two could go out to eat together as a way to spend more time talking. Since you’d spent hours at the studio and he hadn’t thought to offer you food or water, he chose a more relaxed place, reminiscent of the pubs where he knew you performed—live music and cozy lighting.

Upon arrival, you felt the chill against your arms. Alex laughed. You hadn’t seen him take off his blazer, but you noticed his attentive gaze as he draped it over your shoulders. It was a comforting relief. “I can control the studio’s temperature, but most places ‘ere are air-conditioned; you’ll end up feeling cold,” he said. You didn’t respond, only pondering whether Alex would always have a jacket or blazer for you if you never wore one. You liked his scent on you and the respectful way he looked at you, you hated that your thoughts were not as innocent.

As you sat across from him, there was little distraction, and you knew it would be a challenging time—more accurately, a journey to be honest, regardless of what happened next. He had loosened more buttons due to the heat. The collar was pressed against his rosy skin, neck chain attached to his sweat, and his eyes were on you, making your stomach flutter. Your foot brushed against his calf under the table, you couldn’t look at him. He smiled pleasantly as usual, the distinctive nasal sound of his laugh remaining soothing, despite the feelings he stirred in you. Your foot found comfort there, resting against him; neither of you moved.

“It smells nice; what is it?” he asked before you put away your pink tube of moisturizer.

“It’s peach,” you replied, sounding a bit excited. You wanted to talk but felt that besides your music, you might not be interesting to him, even though you felt there was something desirable in that; even if you didn't see yourself that way.

“The scent is great; it makes me less tense, Turner,” you said. You took his hand in yours. They were larger and calloused—something your fingers should be. You applied a drop of cream, massaging his hand with focus on each callus and prominent vein.

The sensation was light for him (even for you); your nails brushed against his wrist with a pleasant tickle. Taking your time, you smoothed out the creases in his poorly folded shirt, rebuttoned it, and adjusted the fold to what Alex would consider the perfect height. Your touch was gentle, and there you were, right in front of him, with your shoulders covered by his blazer. He noticed the strap of your dress was a little crooked, but you were nestled in something warm. Alex cherished everything about that realistic snapshot.

When you finished, you noticed his attention was on your face. You smiled slightly, as did he. You were in complete silence, yet every minute counted.

The food arrived shortly, and you didn’t need to question it. He simply whispered a “thank you, little one” to you as you curled into his blazer a bit more. He was hoping it would carry your scent by the end of the night.

The atmosphere remained the same—you both enjoyed each other's company, evident in the unspoken comfort between you. The air felt light in your lungs, yet breathing was easy and relaxed. Alex wasn't particularly hungry, but seeing your bright eyes and inevitable smile with every bite you took, he couldn't help savoring his food as well. You made him feel good; he realized just how true that was.

He gently brushed the corner of your mouth with his clean thumb, wiping away a small smudge. You followed his movement intently, reflexively cleaning the spot afterward. For a brief moment, Alex considered bringing his thumb to his lips out of instinct, but quickly caught himself, realizing the weight of the gesture, and instead wiped it off with a napkin. He thought about apologizing, but feared it would make things awkward.

However, you continued to look at him, your face full of color, the atmosphere just as comfortable and inviting as before. It wasn't a mistake for you; you liked the tingling sensation his touch left on your skin.

…

The weeks passed effortlessly; neither of you avoided the other. Occasionally, you both made your way down from your rooms together for dinner at the hotel restaurant or to have a drink. Conversations came easily. At first, Alex felt uneasy about how you didn’t smoke during routine activities, which made him uncomfortable for not being able to cut back on the habit himself. However, over time, he grew used to it and eventually stopped smoking around you, finding that he missed it less.

Sometimes, nights at the studio would deliberately stretch late, with Alex fine-tuning guitars that didn’t really need it or you attempting to replicate familiar songs on the drums, under the guise of practice. The truth was, even though you both knew you didn’t truly need each other, you still made an effort to be close to one another, whether in quiet moments or during busier times.

"Y’know, oldie. We moved it all online…” You mentioned it when you opened your eyes and noticed Alex annoyed by the droplets from his hair dripping onto his newspaper.

You couldn't pinpoint where the idea came from, but you understood his priority in not overwhelming you—imagining how a poor work dynamic could fall into the hands of bad journalists. In the end, that led you both to the beach, enjoying the refreshing breeze that made the sun less intense.

Your comment drove him to give up on the newspaper and just look at you. He couldn't look at you casually or quickly, he was getting used to that. Behind his sunglasses and cap, he felt like he was taking advantage by noticing the thin strap of your bikini and the ties and lace that drove him to think of other pieces. He took a deep breath, sinking into the lounge chair, like in romantic comedies that end well. You brushed your knee against his, drawing his attention back to you (yes, you were sharing the only remaining chair meant for couples—neither of you even knew such a thing existed).

Alex quickly realized he was blushing, feeling the heat in his cheeks when he got you had noticed him staring at you. "Do you need sunscreen? I didn't see you apply any yet," you asked, getting ready for your second layer, while Alex hadn’t put on any. "How disgraceful, Turner. You hardly seem like an older man." He rolled his eyes at your amusement.

His hair was tousled by the wind. His face had a radiant glow at you. You put some of it in his hand, and he began to apply it to his sun-kissed cheeks and nose, a bit of it smudging into his hair. You couldn’t help but laugh at the scene, his clumsy hands more likely to smear than spread the lotion properly. "Alright, Tur, let me handle this." You moved closer, your cool fingertips touching his skin and discarding the sunglasses. He caught the scent of peach as it drifted on the breeze, smiling softly as you smiled at him. Your gentle touch grazed his cheeks, finding comfort in the rough texture of his beard, which made you scrunch your nose in a playful smile that turned into a quiet laugh. Letting himself relax, Alex closed his eyes as you smoothed the excess lotion onto his neck. He wished he didn’t enjoy that closeness, but he did, and he had no intention of denying it.

You cleaned the stray strands of hair and lightly traced your thumb up the bridge of his nose, pausing briefly between his eyebrows. Alex sighed in contentment, his lips parting slightly, you felt even more at ease. Before he could open his eyes, you stepped back, slathering more sunscreen into your hands, then pressed your palms against his soft shoulders and just above his chest. He gave you a funny look, but before anything else could happen, you pulled away. "Rub it in," you instructed, noting his slight confusion. "And turn around. I'm going to apply it on your back." Touching his warm, velvety skin felt therapeutic. He shared that same sentiment. Was this how cats felt when they kneaded with their paws? It was just as comforting.

Alex felt the same when his fingers touched your back in return. The silence weighed on him, with only the pulsing of his veins echoing in his ears. Yet, you smiled peacefully, eyes closed and lower lip caught between your teeth as you lay on your stomach. He massaged your skin with sunscreen, convinced that this was a laborious task. Your muscles relaxed under his touch, and he noticed a foolish smile creeping onto his lips.

He gently moved the delicate strap of your bikini aside, making sure to cover every inch, no matter how thin the material was. His palm brushed your hair away from the nape of your neck, and for a long moment, he imagined kissing your sensitive skin, hearing your sighs at a playful bite, letting out the repetitive thoughts that were always about you stuck in his mind. He had memorized your scent, longed to immerse himself in you until your peaches became his, something only he could experience–no one else, not even the stupid boys your age (especially them). He followed the same ritual on your neck, sighing to himself as he acknowledged how addictive your skin was there; you were highly addicted.

"Wait a minute," you murmured, your words drawn out and languid, almost like failed moans that would fade into silence. Your delicate fingers fumbled with his as you pulled the bikini string down, revealing more of your skin, though not in an obscene way. Even though his gaze was heavy in a way that it wasn't entirely clear. Soon, the piece was no longer there, but the view was limited by the way you were lying.

Understanding his place, he lightly rubbed sunscreen over the exposed area, subtly moving down your waist and barely grazing your hips. He felt as if he were touching porcelain, afraid that any poorly thought-out movement might shatter you. He gave your flesh a final gentle squeeze, and your abdomen contracted at the loss, accompanied by a soft murmur. Returning to his position, Alex chuckled to himself as he noticed how you kept your head closer to the towel you used as a pillow, your body not moving a single millimeter. It was then that he realized the process had taken longer than expected, you had fallen asleep.

He pulled his cap down over his face, a bit embarrassed, even though you couldn't see him. Adjusting his sunglasses back in place, he quietly watched you, taking in your calm breathing and relaxed posture. He took his own shirt, wrapping it over you, deciding that you had been in the sun long enough. He didn't touch you, knowing you were still asleep, but couldn't resist briefly brushing his fingertips against his lips and gently moving the strands of hair that covered your face. His gaze sharpened instinctively, and while he knew how to handle it if he were alone, you didn't deserve that side of his life.

It was quick—just a fleeting moment, a feeling of being watched, though he didn't hear any cameras or whispers. He didn't want to risk dismissing the thought, even if he couldn't see anyone nearby. Slowly, yet without hesitation, he gently called your name, softly stroking your arm. You responded by murmuring his name, manipulating a warm and soft sound, making him wonder if you were conscious of his presence or merely dreaming—of him. It took a while, but Alex remained patient until your eyes opened, startled. He then placed the cap on your head, carefully cradling you in his arms, being cautious not to disorient you further as he buttoned his shirt on you, doing so with as little awkwardness as possible. Despite touching your skin, he never once looked anywhere but your face, waiting for your arms to slip into the sleeves until you looked somewhat presentable.

"We're going to walk to the car, alright? It'll be quick," he said, his voice concerned, firm, and reassuring. He knew what he was doing, hoping to minimize the damage. You simply nodded, resting your tired cheek on his shoulder, and he chuckled softly. "Can you put on my sunglasses, please, little one?" You gave a sweet smile, making him internally berate himself for putting you in this situation. He placed the sunglasses on you, guiding your hands with his own, and kept you close. "Shall we? It'll be quick, promise and you can sleep on the way to the hotel, huh?" You appreciated his calm demeanor, respecting your groggy mood after just waking up.

He grabbed your bag, abandoning any attempt to save the newspaper, and drove his hand on the small of your back. Leaning into him for comfort, you felt him hold you tighter. Instinctively, you nuzzled your face into his chest, only to hear him say, "Okay, just don't get too close to her, alright?" His heart pounded against your ear, and you heard the sound of camera clicks. You didn't want to, nor could you, open your eyes. You couldn't make sense of the noise; the person continued taking photos, asking questions, and you couldn't tell if there was more than one of them.

Alex opened the car door, firmly guiding you until you were seated inside. He gently stroked your hair, noticing how visibly shaken you were. He quickly kissed your forehead. It was a brief, hurried gesture, one you wished you had more time to savor. You held onto his arm, unable to speak. "I'll close the door and come around; I'll be right beside you, and we'll head to the hotel, okay?" He was frustrated, angry, but it wasn't directed at you; he didn't want you to see these feelings of his. He should have been more careful, knowing that this was possible even with the band being on a break, but he had been careless.

Once inside the car, with the windows tinted completely black, ensuring no one could see in, he reached for your hand as he started the engine, holding it tightly as you looked at him, dazed, avoiding looking outside. "Does this happen often?" you asked, your voice small. His throat tightened with an irrepressible knot; he hadn’t considered how foreign all this was to you.

…

Alex’s head throbbed, the furrow between his eyebrows deep with tension. You sat on the edge of the bed, hands clasped between your thighs, eyes filled with unshed tears as you looked at him. He had used his connections, calling to inform them of the situation and to request the removal of any photos of you from gossip sites if they had already been posted. He was told on the phone that it would be handled, which confirmed that the images had likely been uploaded.

Alex chose to make the call in the hallway, asking you to go ahead to the room, not wanting you to hear and worry more than you might have already. But as soon as he entered, it was clear you had seen something. Your fingers played with the hem of his shirt, lost in thought, and guilt washed over him.

"I can listen to you, pretty one," he said, his voice soft, showing a rare vulnerability as he assured you that he was there with you. He wanted to hear you out, to relieve any burden weighing on your shoulders.

"I know this happened because you’re well-known," you replied, swallowing hard as you struggled to find the right words. Alex waited, kneeling in front of you between your legs, his fingers lightly brushing your skin. He didn’t know exactly what to do, but hoped he could offer some comfort. The touch didn’t feel like a mistake—it was a natural act of reassurance, though the proximity made him feel conflicted. Yet, considering the situation, it seemed right.

"I’m really sorry, truly. It was careless of me," he apologized, his tone sincere. You shook your head, gently cupping his face in your hands, pushing his hair back. His warm, caramel eyes focused on you, filled with concern as you teetered on the edge of tears, a feeling he feared he didn’t fully understand.

"Tur, I might sound stupid, but—" You hesitated, then he responded with his usual tenderness, drawing you closer. Your legs wrapped around him, your arms holding him tight. He stroked your hair, helping you find comfort against him. The towel draped over his shoulders—since he had given you his shirt and didn't feel like walking around the hotel shirtless—slipped to the floor, and having his warmth was enough for you.

"If they like the album, which I really hope they do, and with all the pre-album promotion as an artist... I don’t want to sound ungrateful, huh, like, this whole journey with you has been amazing, but is it going to be normal to have so many people talking ‘bout me? Pictures of me without my consent? And comments about my appearance?" You couldn’t look at him, which made it easier for you to speak coherently without feeling embarrassed about opening up.

It was so much to process, and Alex hadn’t considered it from that angle. After all, he was the one who had brought you into this situation, both in the moment and for the long haul. You were young, and he didn’t want you to go through what he had at your age. He could have prevented this, but now you were caught up in it.

He kissed your forehead, then your eyelids, realizing just how intimately right—and wrong—this all felt. It was inevitable, and it shouldn’t have been. He pulled back slightly, only to give in when you tightened your hold, snuggling closer. You took his hand and placed it on your waist, your way of asking him for it to take longer, seeking more of his embrace. He chuckled softly, needing it just as much.

There wasn’t much to say. "I think you know the answer, little one. I wish it wasn’t like this either. I’m sorry for introducin’ you to this.”

Alex’s hands slid up and down your back, gripping the fabric and holding you tightly against him. Your sigh was one of relief, drawn out, so sweet. He cupped your chin, lifting your head to meet his gaze. Your cheeks were damp, and he offered a small, uncomfortable smile.

“It’s okay,” you said weakly, trying to sound more composed than you felt. “It’s not your fault, Turner. I don’t think that, and I don’t regret being here with you. I’m just scared of everything that’s going to come with this, especially since I never really thought about it before.” Your words seemed distant, but even in your emotional state, you were eloquent.

Alex didn’t know exactly what to expect either; things had changed since 2008. He remembered the Humbug era being the worst, with all the attention from MTV. His tongue rested on the roof of his mouth as your fingers found a home at the nape of his neck, gently tugging at the fine hairs, much like you do with the hem of your shirt when you’re anxious. It soothed you. Your eyes lowered to his chest, and you realized it was the first time you’d hugged him this longer, and he was shirtless. You liked everything about it—the warmth and the view you had.

He pulled the collar of your shirt toward him, bringing your face closer until his tiny beard tickled your skin. You looked at him, and he didn’t even try to hide the fact that he was staring right into your soul. You were beautiful with your red eyes and tear-streaked cheeks. Understanding what you were going through, he got you whispering amidst the chaos of finding the right words, “I can’t mess this up, Tur.”

He focused on your words, though he wanted to pull you into him even more, but he resisted, waiting for you to continue. “I want this too, I just don’t want you to think less of me, okay?” Your eyes welled up again, and as soon as you tried to lower your head, he gently lifted it back up, fully aware of what you were trying to convey. “I don’t want you to think I’m like this just because I’m interested in you. I don’t want you to see me as…” You paused, struggling with the words. He simply rested his forehead against yours, holding your face gently in his hands.

“I don’t think anything bad ‘bout you, lil’ one. I’ve never thought that way, and these are just your worries, you got me? Nothing changes the fact that I think you’re talented and competent, huh? That has nothing to do with how I see you as a professional. You don’t have to be afraid of that.” He was firm, his voice louder than usual. You took in every word, noting the roughness of his tone and the space between his lack of manners with sentences. He swallowed hard, his mouth slightly open, and you appreciated how patient he was with you, how well he seemed to understand that you needed this moment. Your fingers tightened on his, and then your lips met his. It was slow, and though you felt like you lacked experience, it was warm. He pulled you closer, every inch of you molding to him.

You started to pull away, embarrassed, feeling like maybe this wasn’t meant for you, but as soon as your lips began to leave his, he tugged your collar, bringing you back for a more urgent kiss, making it clear he had been waiting for this for a long time. You leaned back slightly, but he held you firmly, sensing how your body was softening against him. He chuckled into the kiss, and you felt his velvety tongue against yours, slowly being enveloped by wet, lingering kisses. The taste was salty from tears and the sea, you laughed at the thought of him being seasoned.

You brushed his fringe away, noticing how his cheeks were flushed and his lips swollen. You wanted more. You realized your brain hadn’t fully registered what it felt like to have his beard brushing against your face.

“Was it bad?” you asked, your voice barely audible. You couldn’t help but think about how Alex had been with many other women, while you could count on one hand the people you’d kissed in your life.

“Do you talk when you’re nervous?” His warm breath brushed against your skin, close enough to be unsettling. Before you could answer, he planted soft kisses on your lips, still making a slight sound and lingering just a bit. He tasted of mint, not quite of cigarettes. The tip of his nose grazed yours, and the subtle stubble on his face slid pleasantly against your cheek. When he pulled back, your natural reaction was to lean forward for more, which he didn’t resist, a playful smile on his lips as he let you set the pace. Your fingers seemed made for his hair, and Alex was sure of it. By the end, you were breathless, though he wasn’t quite as much.

“Okay, I need to breathe...through my nose while doing this.” He chuckled, pulling you close for a hug. You felt at ease with him, talking out of nerves, but it was clear it didn’t bother you. He liked that. “It’s not bad at all. It’s actually wonderful, pet.” He touched your nose and cheeks, his fingers tracing every feature, wanting to soak in each detail of you. “You’re beautiful,” he said. You nodded. He struggled to figure out if the way your eyes fluttered when he spoke to you like that was because of his voice or his compliments, yet he was determined to keep drawing those reactions from you.

He ran his calloused fingers up your thigh, stopping at your hips, squeezing them hard. Your nails dug into his shoulders in anticipation as your legs parted briefly, giving him better access and also making the fabric of your shirt give him more of a view. The bottom of your bikini was tight, very tight, leaving a mark on your skin and he ran his fingertips over the spot. You looked at him, thinking about how no one had ever looked at you like that; the mix of desire and actually seeing you as something more than that. You had written about it before, but never experienced it, and so you wondered about the possibility of Alex acting like that because he knew your writing. However, you didn't want to think badly of him, you wanted to enjoy it.

His gaze rose to meet yours, his tongue moistening his lips and the crease between his eyebrows deepening, was it fair that that alone made you wet? He didn't need to say anything, you confirmed what he wanted.

The attention lingered on your face, your heart racing at the serenity of how he undid the ties, getting rid of the piece. You couldn't move, taken by how delicate he was and his eyes on you didn't do the same, even though he didn't fail to contemplate you.

“Turner,” it was like a sob, a tiny sharp. His fingers touched your center, sighing as a way of savoring the moment, then he sank a little deeper, smearing his fingers and spreading them from your entrance to your clit to improve the sensation.

“It's all right, princess, I'm right ‘ere. I've got you, but we've got all the time in the world, so let's be patient, you're with me?" Each word was breathy and soft, difficult for you to string together, but you still repeated his last name in a pleading whisper.

He brushed two of his fingers against you, one of your legs lifting and bending at the knees, he laughed at your reactions but it was adorable, even though he was nothing much but his dark orbs. Respecting your body, he plunged his fingers deeper, sliding in easily. Your body gave in, your hands supporting you back and your moans getting hotter, you felt tighter but it still felt good.

"Relax, lil’ one. You can lie down, everything's fine, huh? You can just relax, no thoughts." His accent, full of patience, so familiar yet made you swallow hard. Alex’s fingers were damp, all along their length, carrying that blissful energy that comes with youth. Certainly, it could be said that you were not so used to that, the gap between doing something and thinking about it was great, given your state you had fantasized about it a few times; maybe you expected something he couldn't give you, but he was there for you.

He felt like an exception, he wasn't so young anymore, but he was acting like one. His fingers slid, you swallowed them completely, until your legs trembled a bit and he pulled back, only to repeat it all over again. He was touching you, getting to know you, and thinking about how he would be tasting your juices on his tongue in a few seconds, getting you ready to have him inside of you without any concern... He throbbed with each glimpse.

He couldn't deny that he had fantasized about you too, how he wanted to corrupt you while you were wearing your usual spaghetti strap dresses, hike them up to your waist and just pull down his pants to take you in the studio, have your voice fade away while instruments were thrown to the floor. He would get heavy, swollen with sensitivity in his underwear when he thought about you from time to time, refusing to do anything that bordered on disrespect, and even if he failed, he followed a ritual in his light groping, looking for relief, without letting himself get there as punishment. He never felt right thinking about you that way, but it seemed like a plausible moment to let himself be reminded of it.

Your eyes were closed, your face to the ceiling, your head pressed into the mattress in agony. You weren't expecting it, but your muscles clenched tighter into the sheets, this was new; you knew what it was, it just had never been like this. There were brief kisses on your wetness, noisy and messy, his hair brushed against your thigh and his hands were firmly on you. You had never seen yourself without thinking about anything, not literally, but your senses only hovered over how to be good for Turner so he could make you feel great.

For Alex, it was better than he remembered imagining. It was hard to breathe when all he could do was focus on keeping going, listening to your sweet whimpers for more. The vivid scent of peach filled his senses, your taste taking over his consciousness, everything felt so good.

He sank his tongue, contracting it hard so that it dissolved inside you and felt in honor how you dripped down the sides of his mouth. He held the edges of your shirt tightly, pushing you closer to him, his nose brushing against your clit while his whole face rubbed all over your folds with desire. Your fingers tightened in his hair, gripping hard as you called out his name, the words barely coherent. You focused on him with a dazed expression, your gaze hazy and unfocused. His face was serene, eyes closed in deep enjoyment, completely immersed in your taste. You shifted a little, although he soon forced you against the mattress so you wouldn't do that, wanting to feel his beard hurt your skin. In fact, boys your age, or at least your experiences, did that very quickly, as an obligation. Alex was not a boy.

"You're so addictive," your throat was dry. Alex hadn't even done half of what he had in mind with you; and you certainly couldn't handle it.

He turned his face away due to your trembling knees, holding your gaze to his. He wanted you to get there, but in another way. Still, he watched you as he pressed only the tips of his fingers on your clit, without movements other than those of your hips. “So smart and charming, is there anything you can't do?” You pulsed, electric current going through your entire body.

You didn't know what to do, your cheeks were burning and you could only moisten your lips, wanting the agonizing knot to disappear.

“Turner,” he laughed, the same nasal sound you loved. It was like a mantra, the repetition of the drawn-out last name coming out of you and the cocky laugh. “Please, I need it, I need you, Tur.”

He nodded, stiff and sore in his shorts, then stood up and pulled them off. He didn’t look in a hurry to you, it gave you a headache, but he was nice to look at; his pale skin, his slim waist, his shoulders red from your scratches and his reddened length. He was hot and well-endowed, good enough to make your mouth water.

"Have you done this before?" His friendly tone made you hate your thoughts, and also question if you actually had. His cheeks were flushed, as were his lips, and he swallowed hard while looking at you. You felt a bit embarrassed. "It's okay if you haven't, princess." You smiled softly, shaking your head. "A few times, but it was never good. But this time, it is." Alex understood; he didn't judge you and never would. He ran his hand through your hair, brushing it away from your face, then gently tugged at the collar of your shirt, pulling it slightly away from your skin. "Are your songs not based on your experiences?" You feared he might think that was a bad thing, but his voice didn't carry any judgment. "No..." You sighed, content with his touch and his body pressed to yours. "I don't think I've ever truly experienced love, at least not directly. But I like writing about how I hope it will be." His eyes were a bit misty, and he nodded. He found that meaning beautiful; it was a perspective he hadn't considered before. He didn't feel so distant from that, since he wrote about things he'd witnessed. "It's beautiful. You do it really well.”

He opened the buttons, one by one, taking his time. He revealed your body to him little by little, admiring your collarbone, the curve of your breasts and stomach. His lips touched every nuance, leaving a wet trail and a bite on the flesh below your perky nipple. You writhed with a shrill noise, your legs clinging to him, ready to feel him as he brushed against your thigh. Alex also moaned every now and then, much more restrained and full-bodied, so hoarse.

He held your face to him, preventing you from turning away. The weight of his body felt good, everything about Alex felt like being enveloped in calm; even though you didn't expect calm at that moment. He opened his mouth, perhaps as thirsty as you were, his tongue on the roof of his mouth, staring at you. Slow and precise, you had your muscles soften as he got warm and tight inside you. You swallowed greedily, wet as never before, taking every inch of him.

“Good pet, good girl.” You held onto him tighter, your eyes watering. He held your head, snuggling you close to him. "You're doing great, you're such a good girl, right? Focus on how I'm inside you, filling you to the brim, can you feel me, lil’ one?” He was hoarser, unavoidable not to pay attention. His voice really calmed you down, making it work, your legs rested slowly and you noticed he was more comfortable in you; fitting better.

He held your hand on top of your head, intertwining your fingers, letting you squeeze tightly. Your body rocked on the bed with the rhythm of his hips, the movement was slow, he let his entire length come out of you like that and then pressed harder so you could accommodate him all the way into your lower tummy. It was good, warm, it made you think of more and more until you felt your belly tingle. Alex had a prominent crease, his pink lips parted and he gasped along with you every time your bones collided. Unable to hold back, he sped up, letting you whisper a painful, "Thank you," which made him release your hand, gripping your wrist violently as his forehead fell onto your shoulder. You stained the back of his neck with bruises, wanting your fist to come out the same way.

Your hot breath came in short gasps, you tried to be coherent in shyly mumbling that he could come inside you; wanting to have him fill you to the last drop until you were exhausted. Which wouldn't be a problem, you took your precautions up to date.

The intensity of his body on yours was growing, similar to the arrival of guitar solos in a chorus; you had to close your eyes, really paying attention to how your walls squeezed him inside you. Your firm thighs around him, added to the strength with which he thrusted you, caused friction on your clit and you were becoming aware of your limits. You felt Alex hug you again, delicate arms around you, wetting your shirt in soft moans as he filled you warmly. The sensation, the noise, everything connected made you relieve yourself too, in a relaxation of having both liquids mixing, ready to run out of you. He slowed down, keeping the same ritual, making you feel your thighs sticky until he realized you were getting too sensitive with tears filling your pretty eyes, and it was better to stop.

There was the familiar, comfortable silence that always settled between you two, both of you immersed in each other's presence. The embrace was gentle yet firm. He was comfy, still inside you, pulsing a bit, but good. His hand moved in meaningful circles on your back, and you mirrored the motion on his arm. His hair was a mess, and you imagined yours probably was too. His swollen lips drew in air as before, making you contemplate the way his tongue rested against the roof of his mouth.

"Can you lick me, Tur?" You asked comfortably given the situation, feeling good all over his touch.

He ran his hand over your chin, looking at you, not finding it bad. You hesitated when you asked, but it seemed inevitable. He moistened his lips, touching the tip of his tongue to your mouth, right on the lower one, holding your face firmly and doing what you said. The velvety, wet touch ran down your lip and into your mouth, which made you smile slightly, holding him for a kiss. It was good, you had imagined that. He sucked your lip to himself, in a somewhat messy act of saliva, and you wanted to do it more often.

“You good?” It was a genuine intimacy, right after a few minutes of nothing but the pure sound of his heartbeat echoing in your ear. You couldn’t help but wonder if this would affect how professional he thought you were—after all, he was your mentor—but you didn’t want to bring that up now. Similarly, feeling the way his shirt clung to your body, brushing against his skin and stealing your scent, he wondered the same thing, afraid you might truly believe you weren’t talented enough due to the internet and that this had only made things worse in your mind. Yet, he didn’t know what to say; the silence felt safe. "I’m okay, Tur. Tired, but I don’t want to think about songs, albums, or what we’ll do in an hour right now." You nestled closer to him, kissing his cheek softly, then his neck. Your voice was laced with tears, and he wasn’t sure if it was about what happened minutes ago or the issue with the paparazzi, but he understood that you were vulnerable. He felt guilty, still processing everything. "I’m not going to leave you, little one. I’ll be ‘ere, to deal with this and remind you how good you are." He whispered into your hair that smelled of peaches. You believed him, and he made you see a future in all of this.

You could have him on the cover of your album.

...

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#alex turner x reader #alex turner smut #alex turner #arctic monkeys #alex turner fanfic #alex turner imagine #alex turner fluff

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florenceafternoon · 2 months

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━。゜✿ jily fic recommendations ✿ ゜。━

You know when you read a fic and love it so much that you want to find one exactly like it but different. Anyways, more Alternate Universe fics.

For reference, anything in italics is taken from the summaries on ao3.

These first few fics are all by elanev91 on ao3 (ao3 account required).

Force of Habit

Lily's been riding the same train back and forth to work for the last two and a half years and lowkey fancies the guy who sits one row up from her usual seat.

TW: parent death discussed

The fic that inspired the intro (I love it so much you don't understand)

Waffle Wars

There's only one waffle maker in the dining hall and it literally always breaks. So, naturally, the only reasonable course of action is to meticulously map out when it's working and, ultimately, do a heist.

every day I like you a little mower

Lily was JUST trying to be a good daughter and help her father with his yard work. Too bad the bloke next door is always outside and also the most annoyingly talkative person on the planet.

we could be gigantic series

Lily and James have been best friends since they were kids. Uni, a band, a trip abroad, a few tours and a couple of albums later, things start to change. Half an email fic, half a regular ol' narrative.

it wasn't a pity invite

Prompt: my family invites you to join our holiday meal as an obvious setup and omg i’m so sorry

The one where they’re both doctors - also Northern Irish Lily.

One Direction on the A4

James and Lily are having quite the morning. James thinks a little nonsense might fix it. Or James is a dork and Lily loves it.

Ye Olde Smut Fic

Student recruitment fairs suck, but never fear -- Professor Evans and Professor Potter have figured out how to make it a little less annoying.

Professor AU, Modern AU, Muggle AU. Smutty ridiculousness. Plot questionable.

The tragedy is that they live in America

The Yeast I Can Do

Dr Lily Evans had an absolute shit day at work. Luckily, there's a bakery nearby that offers a course that she hopes will take her mind off of things.

For my fellow jily & wolfstar enjoyers, go do yourself a favour and check out their other works on ao3.

Teenage Kicks by @arianatwycross

It all starts with Lily being hired to be the bands tour photographer, then she actually meets the band and she quickly becomes absorbed by their fast lifestyle, their pranks and the hot lead singer. But its not exactly simple to be crushing on a famous Rockstar, is it?

Foam Hearts by Sleepinghookah (on ao3)

Coffee shop AU. A story in which James and Lily are blind - both in entirely different ways.

I promise he's not a bad person. You've got to read till the end and it'll make sense

When The Skies Are Gray by @athenasparrow

“Carry me?” Lily scoffed, biting her lip so she wouldn’t laugh in his face. Because he was about to do something nice for her. “I’m not some damsel in distress who can’t walk! I just need a bit of cover to make it to the tube.”

OR: two strangers, one umbrella, and a little bit of fate.

Tranquil Solitude (Until You Came Along) by @thelighthousestale

Prompt: I thought I went skinny dipping alone but oh my god this beautiful human is also here naked and I am a fool

All Lily wanted to do was take a nice, quiet swim on a hot day. And then James Potter showed up. And Lily had already removed her clothes for the private swim.

it would have been sweet by @firefeufuego

‘Lily,’ he says in her ear, voice slurred and barely audible above the pulsing bass of the music, ‘is there a reason I shouldn’t marry her?’

She can taste the truth bittersweet on her tongue: Yes of course there is, you colossal, darling idiot, you’re meant to be mine. But there’s the ring on Charlotte’s finger and there’s the one Lily found in Eddie’s sock drawer, and how can she be this person? The one who steals someone’s fiancé on his stag night? That’s not who she is, that won’t be who she is. ‘Of course not, James. You’ll make each other so happy.’ She nearly chokes on the lie as it leaves her mouth, all the more so because most of it isn’t even a lie at all.

For my second chance romance girls

This Hope is Treacherous by @tinyluminaryzombie

Lily Evans and James Potter: Aquentiences, Academic rivals, and now, Friends.

Except "friends" doesn't exactly feel right but Lily's too scared to do anything about it. But as James and her keep acting like more-than-friends she's unraveling with the uncertainty of it all.

OR: Choosing to fall in love can be just as thrilling and terrifying as love at first sight.

The Viscount's Daughter by @ghostofbambifanfiction

The beautiful, vivacious, and decidedly redheaded daughter of the 16th Viscount of Rowena has stolen the heart of young Prince James. Trouble is, she couldn't be less interested in him.

Thought it was abandoned but the author posted a snippet recently so maybe not?

The Queen of the Quills - Jily Edition by @elliemarchetti

Lily and Petunia read the Queen of the Quills' latest column on James Potter, while the bachelor announces to his friends that he intends to get married.

Quest for Camelot by the incredible @petalsthefish

After the legendary Excalibur sword is stolen, Lily and James embark on a quest to retrieve the lost weapon. Lily searches for the sword to prove she is capable of being a knight despite being a girl. James searches because his falcon, Marlene, is desperate to find it for her master, Merlin. Along the way, they attempt to outwit the sinister Ruber, navigate through magical obstacles, decode puzzling prophecies, and uncover surprising similarities between themselves.

As their journey progresses, they both cannot deny the feelings growing between them with each passing day. Will they make it out of the quest alive, or will one of them perish in the ever-growing darkness that threatens to swallow the entire realm if Ruber gets his hands on the sword?

Based on the 1998 movie Quest for Camelot, but with more plot and less singing

Fearlessly Red also by @ /petalsthefish

Red. It was such an interesting color to correlate with emotion because it was on both ends of the spectrum. On one end there was happiness, falling in love, passion, all that. On the other end was jealousy, fear and frustration. Maybe that's why James thought the nickname fit Lily so well.

or Bodyguard!James/Celebrity!Lily

Get A Room bt @chierafied

The long-awaited trip to London goes awry when Marlene chooses to spend time with her boyfriend - forcing Lily to share their room with none other than James Potter.

you don't know me (but I know you) by @emeralddoeadeer

Lily has a crush, she knows his face well but can only imagine his name; until they meet that is.

About Time by heartablaze (on ao3)

Before his final year started, James Potter offered to be a resident advisor for a first-year dorm. What he didn’t count on was dealing with a confusing redhead across the hall, hospital visits, hallway parties and writing his thesis the night before it was due. Blimey. (Muggle Uni AU)

Unexpectedly in Love by jamespotters_exgirlfriend (on ao3)

When Lily Evans entered her final year of uni, she certainly didn’t expect to fall in love with James Potter. And well, let’s just say love isn’t the only unexpected thing to come out of their relationship.

Far Post by @eastwindmlk

James Potter and his friends are very serious about their pub football league. So, when the new roster comes out and there is a new team on there, an all women's team, he and Sirius set out to investigate.

You Know How To Ball, I Know Aristotle by @wearingaberetinparis

Now that the global superstar, Grammy-winning singer-songwriter Lily Evans and professional football player James Potter are together, they have to juggle the difficulties of a relationship in the public eye. Fresh off her World Tour, Lily Evans arrives at Wembley Stadium one year after James Potter first attended her show, to perform there for one final weekend before heading to the studio to record her next album. Her boyfriend, in the meantime, is off to Germany to play at the Euros for England. How will they ever make their relationship work when Lily is - so the press loves to imply - the least supportive WAG of the tournament?

sequal to And You Heard About Me (Ooh, We’ve Got Some Big Enemies!)

It's been a long time coming and it did not disappoint

I've recommended Three Swipes, You're Out by @naireides before, but I recently came across it's sequel making spirits bright

Sports star James Potter tries to pick Lily up on tinder. Lily Evans, a dedicated not sports fan is offended by the idea that someone thinks she wouldn't recognize James Potter's face. She laughs about it with her friends at a bar, until James Potter, who also frequents that bar, comes over to clarify that nope, he's on tinder, and he's definitely hitting on her.

...

She should have expected it to be hard, dating a celebrity, but somehow she and James make it work.

#lily evans #james potter #jily #lames #jple #jily fic rec list

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mostly-marvel-musings · 16 days

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Caffeine fix and beyond - Part 1

A/N: Did I come up with the worst fic title? Lmao. This is for @elixirfromthestars thank you for hosting the cutest writing challenge ever!

Sitting at the Coffee shop AU table, with some sweet treats - “I’m only doing it because you’re cute.”, “Why don’t you tell me what I can do to make your day better?” & Saying ‘I love you’ for the first time.

Find the writing challenge here ☕️

Pairing: Tony Stark x F! Reader

Warning: fluff! One bad coffee pun.

Word count: 2.2k

Tony Stark Masterlist

“Oh look! It’s my favourite superhero!” you exclaimed, giving the man before you a big grin as he mirrored your action.

“And it’s my favourite barista.”

Tony Stark lowered his sunglasses to greet you, shoving them in his pocket before ordering his usual cup of coffee to go.

Happy Hogan, his head of security or the guy who handed him things - as you formerly knew him, was missing today. That was a first. You got to know about his eccentric habits over the course of time, something which you initially found snooty and borderline narcissistic.

It was a sunny day in New York when the genius billionaire walked into your cafe with a caffeine urge to subdue and an air of indifference. He had cut through the line much to your annoyance but the people waiting didn’t seem to mind since it was the great Iron Man who’d just walked into your humble but prominent shop. After making him wait for a good fifteen minutes before giving him his fix, you were introduced to the man who had been observing you keenly from afar while you worked. As time passed, you got to know the man behind the titanium suit, the funniest, wittiest man you’d come across and a broken superhero you had grown fond of. It had come to a point where on days he wouldn’t show up, you would actually miss him.

“No Happy today?” you wondered out loud, raising your eyebrows when he held his hand out for the cup which you were about to place on the counter.

“He’s feeling under the weather. I’ll let him know you missed him.” he teased, taking a sip of the scalding hot beverage without flinching.

“Please do. You know how much I love him in his suit.” you grinned as Tony chuckled, waving goodbye as you watched the man head out.

“Might stop by later tonight, Y/N!” he called out without turning around, making a few heads turn your way before the superhero disappeared.

Shaking your head fondly, you went about your day, tending to the ever-growing line standing in front of you, all waiting for their favourite coffee.

While you rolled out the last of the cinnamon roll batch for the night, you heard the bell outside your door chime, knowing it wouldn’t be anybody other than the man who had quickly become one of your closest companions. He usually ended up in your cafe late at night for a chat, more often than not for a cup or three of his famous Stark brew - as you coined it.

“Are those cinnamon rolls I smell?”

You chuckled hearing his voice float through the empty cafe before the man appeared in the kitchen which was located behind the counter. Dressed in some faded jeans and a band t-shirt, he looked quite relaxed for someone you knew was running on four hours of sleep on a daily basis.

“Yes! Aren’t these a favourite of your best friend? James if I’m not wrong. Ask him to stop by tomorrow, will you?”

One of the things that you loved doing was teasing Tony Stark, the man was so easily annoyed, it was adorable.

“Yeah I’m starting to think you prefer my head of security and my best friend over my company, Y/N.” he narrowed his eyes at you, leaning against one of your work stations while snooping around for snacks.

“Finally you got the hint! You are as smart as they say, Stark.” you poked your tongue out, wiping your hands on your apron before handing him a bag of strawberries which he gratefully accepted.

“Alright, quit it.”

The two of you had quite the chemistry ever since you began talking, it always bordered on flirting and would more often than not lead to banter, something you thoroughly enjoyed and knew he secretly loved too. It had been a privilege getting to know the man behind the Iron persona. The man was generous and kind, he was sweet when he wanted to be and a stubborn prick when he pleased.

For a few moments he remained silent, watching you wrap the trays of cinnamon rolls in plastic before you transferred them to the fridge to prove overnight; he saw how meticulously you cleaned the kitchen before pouring a glass of white wine for yourself and perching yourself on the counter next to him.

“Not driving home?” he asked, concerned about how tired you looked, surely you were doing this for years and he had never seen you this exhausted. Maybe it was something other than your regular baking duties that were troubling you today.

“Car’s with the mechanic today, she’s giving me nothing but grief these days.” you sighed, rolling your shoulders to relieve some tension from your aching muscles. Some family drama aside, it had been a long, busy but fulfilling day.

“So, what ails you, dear child?” you joked, sipping on your wine. Tony would usually beg you to make him a cup of joe by now but tonight, he remained silent.

“Forget about me. Tell me about your day, Y/N.”

Tony rarely asked about this. His visits consisted of rants about technical jargon which you did not pretend to understand, they ended with him bragging about an invention or a girl he scored with the night before. You were more of a listener than a talker anyway, had been all your life, so it was like a natural fit. So this certainly came as a surprise to you.

“What?”

“I’m serious. I always yap about my day and you always listen. You seem upset about something and I want to know if you’re willing to share. You need a listener too.” he smiled one of those rare Tony Stark smiles that were reserved for special people in his life. It warmed your heart.

He waited patiently as you took another generous sip from your drink, his brown eyes boring into yours, his body angled towards you, letting you know you had his full attention.

“Well, my baby brother is thinking about quitting college. He says he wants to focus on his start-up. You know the one I told you about.”

He nodded, immediately recalling the day you had mentioned about your younger sibling being inclined towards artificial intelligence and expressing the desire to venture into it professionally one day.

“I don’t want him to be yet another disappointment to my parents, Tony. One sibling has had enough trauma to last a lifetime. I don’t want him to go through what I did.” you sighed, closing your eyes to make the stray tears that gathered disappear.

Sure your parents gave you the upbringing you deserved, but they would never miss a chance to show their disappointment in you after you had quit your well-paying job to open up your quaint little cafe. It had been a lifelong dream of yours that didn’t seem to fit in their ideal world. You were used to ignoring the little jabs and remarks but your brother was still young, and you wanted to protect him.

“Look, I know you still think of him as your baby brother, but he’s old enough to make his own decisions now, Y/N. And you never know, he might be really good, good enough for the heir of Stark Industries to want to meet him to discuss ideas.”

He knew you would never take advantage of the fact that you guys were close and he was willing to do whatever it took to make you feel better.

A lesser known fact was that Tony Stark was quite smitten by you. His best friend knew it, Happy knew it, probably the only person who didn’t know was you.

“Tony, it’s not necessary. You’re being too kind, I just–”

“Nuh-uh. It’s already decided. He will be okay, Y/N. Stop taking his responsibilities upon your delicate little shoulders.” Tony jumped down and placed his hands on your shoulders to give you a little massage. His fingers felt like heaven, making you melt against his touch instantly, you had to stop yourself from letting out a moan that threatened to escape.

“That feels amazing. Do you moonlight as a masseur?” you yawned sleepily, placing the glass away.

“Perhaps. The rest of my services are paid though. Come on.” Tony held out his hand for you and made you stand up.

“Come where? Where are we going?” you frowned, eyelids already growing heavy, the exhaustion of the day finally catching up.

“I’m going to walk you home. Have you eaten today?”

You hadn’t. The day had been busy enough and you wanted to finish the batch of cinnamon rolls for tomorrow, that had eventually led you to forget about dinner.

Meekly you shook your head, making him let out a dramatic sigh.

“What would you do without me, Y/N Y/L/N!”

If anything, Tony Stark would never fail to make you smile. He had a tendency to brighten up a dull day. You found yourself thinking just how much you’d miss him if he wasn’t in your life; not that you’d gather the courage to answer out loud.

He had looped your arm in his as you walked the ever busy streets of New York, grabbing a pizza on your way. This was a new side to him you were shown, one you were sure didn’t come out often.

As you unlocked your front door, you turned to the man beside you who stood fidgeting with the cardboard pizza box.

“Why are you being so nice to me?”

Instead of answering, Tony leaned closer and wrapped his hand over yours on the door knob, his breath fanning your hair slightly causing your heart to flutter hopelessly. Ever so gently he twisted the knob and opened the door for you, his body heat still radiating near you, making you want to lean against that taut chest. If only you could…

He stepped in after you, observing your space with keen interest. Years of hardwork and savings had bought you this modestly sized apartment, right in the heart of New York. The space was a little cluttered but it had a homey vibe to it which matched you.

Placing the pizza box on the kitchen counter, you discarded your bag and asked the snarky superhero who was currently skimming over family photographs if he wanted a drink.

“You didn’t answer my question, Tony.” You said, handing him a glass of wine. This time he turned to face you, a small smile played on his lips as he took in your appearance. Hair messy from a long day of work, minimal make-up and the light in your eyes that drew him in from day one; to him, you were perfect.

“I’m only doing it because you are cute.”

He stated matter-of-factly, reaching for your free hand and letting his fingers entwine with yours. A small gesture that awakened a few thousand butterflies in your tummy.

“You’ve offered to help my brother, you bought me dinner, walked me home, and you didn’t try to sneak a cup of coffee today. All that because I’m cute huh?”

You teased, feeling just a little bolder as you took a step closer to him. It was now or never, you thought.

“Ask me what I’ve always wondered about.” He asked softly, still toying with your fingers which he’d now brought up to his chest. Something in your heart whispered he felt the same way.

“What have you always wondered about, Tony?” Your eyes dropped to his pillowy lips, unable to resist yourself from getting closer until you were only inches apart.

“I wonder why you won’t bake some blueberry muffins for me?”

It took a couple of seconds for you to process and snap out of it, when you did, Tony’s eyes were dancing with mirth. You shoved him away with a groan only for him to grab hold of your arms and pull you close.

“I’ve always wondered how I’ve grown so close to someone I only met a few months ago, I’ve always wondered how someone as beautiful and amazing as you would ever entertain a selfish prick like me..”

You were about to open your mouth to speak but were stopped when Tony placed a finger on your lips.

“I’ve also wondered what it’d be like to kiss you…” his soft murmur traveled down your spine in a delicious manner, making your breathing hitch as his doe eyes landed on your parted lips.

Taking initiative, you gently pressed your lips to his in a kiss that assured you your life wouldn’t be the same again. It was surprisingly tender, contrary to his boisterous persona, soft lips molded into yours in a perfect union making the surroundings disappear.

You smiled into the kiss when Tony let out a small whine, almost as if battling in his head whether to break the kiss or take things forward. You felt his grip on your hands move to your waist, holding you flush against his chest before he reluctantly broke the kiss, resting his forehead against yours, grinning.

“And?” You kept your voice soft, afraid to break the bubble you were in.

“I think I found my perfect blend.”

#elixirscafe #tony stark x female reader #tony stark fanfiction #tony stark fluff #tony stark x reader #tony stark imagine #tony stark x y/n #tony stark one shot #the stark squad #marvel fanfiction #tony stark #tony stark smut #mostly marvel musings #coffee shop au

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live-laugh-lenney · 5 months

Note

You should so do a fic where the reader has a podcast (like saving grace) and everyone noticed how comparable she and Arthur seem he. He’s a guest (even though she’s like much more extroverted) would be fun🤞❤️

oh, this would be so cute :'))

if there was one thing yn felt comfortable doing, it was waffling.

she just loved to talk. about anything and everything, from what she had read on twitter to what she had heard about online to a brand new documentary that she had taken an interest in when flicking the channels on the television. delving deep into topics that had endless possibilities, spewing off facts that she'd read about online and putting her own thoughts forward in certain aspects that she found interesting and favourable to whoever she was with.

when she came up with the idea of hosting her very own podcast, in the middle of a housewarming party for one of her friends, she was excited to have a platform where she could let her own thoughts be freed yet she was also terrified it wouldn't take off and that she'd make it to a respectful ten episodes before she gave in and decided it wasn't something that the world needed.

when her first episode came out, she had asked james marriott to be her very first guest. one of her best friends, someone she had known for a while, someone who she felt comfortable around and gave her the space to speak freely without making her feel judged. allowing him to promote his new album as well as allowing them to discuss all kinds of musical knowledge from who their favourite bands were and who he would love to open for on a world tour.

and it took off.

earning herself over half a million views in the passing of one day, a lot of youtube subscribers who were offering their own suggestions on the different guests she could have and the more positivity she saw, the more she read, the more excited she was to continue.

she had herself a sweet studio; big beanbags instead of chairs, with a blanket draped over the back of each one and a decorative pillow that was there for added comfort and matched the colour scheme of the whole room, with shelves nailed to the wall full of relatable objects and images that fit her branding - images of her friends, her podcast name in neon lights and a few faux plants that hung low. it was just a simple setup but it felt homely and that was the vibe she had planned from the very beginning.

"good morning, good afternoon or good evening, depending on when you're checking in. i'm yn and welcome back to the one and only podcast on youtube dot com where we just sit and talk shit for an hour," she grins widely at the camera, cosying back into the beanbag beneath her and crossing her legs, hand holding the microphone to her lips, "today, we're joined the king of 90 day fiancé. it's mister arthur television."

"hello, hi."

he gives the camera a short wave and smiles widely, already having cosied himself down in a similar manner to the way yn was sitting in her beanbag, their shoes (both a sucker for comfort and choosing their air force 1's over any other trainer) kicked off aimlessly onto the rug in the middle of the room and left in a heap, his jacket draped over the back of his seat.

"thank you for having me," he looks in her direction, "this is definitely one of my favourite sets i've ever been on. it feels so homey and wholesome."

"i tried to base it on what my bedroom back home used to look like as a teenager," she giggles softly, looking over her shoulder and flicking on the orb lamp that was placed on a shelf above their heads for a bit of additional lighting to fit the ambience of the room, "i was such a tumblr girl growing up, i think it shows."

"i was gon'a say," he laughs and she rolls her eyes in his direction, "it feels very nice. very comforting. especially with the blankets."

"my nana knitted them for me," yn states, "just for this podcast. she's an avid listener, my number one fan, ."

"really?"

"no. i'm kidding," yn laughs softly and he looks across to her, "i don't think she really gets the whole podcast thing, to be honest. she's only just started to understand the whole youtube thing, bless her. she's a sweet soul and i love her but she's so innocent when it comes to all things technological."

"you should use that story more," arthur insists and adjusts himself in the seat as he felt himself sliding down into a slouch, "it adds more story to the setup. it's cute."

"i'll tell her you said that. she'll love it," yn giggles, 'but, anyway. you, arthur frederick, are one of my most requested guests to appear on my podcast."

arthur's eyes widened and he can feel the heat covering his cheeks as he looks across to her, microphone still held tight to his lips, hoping it hid the shy smile that grew on his lips.

"seriously. i had people practically spamming me on twitter to get you on here," she explains and looks at the camera, "you're a loved man, aren't you?"

"i guess i am," he admits shyly, "people are also asking me and isaac to get you on the bach and arthur podcast. close second to george."

"we'll have to make that happen," yn grins widely, "the viewers would love that crossover. chaos crew and little ol' me."

"i think you'd fit in perfectly," he says, "at least i'll have someone on there that appreciates my facts and interesting tidbits of information. it gets lost amongst them. they're not so intelligent when it comes to you and i."

she snorts and shakes her head, dropping her eyes down to her lap before she looks back up; he wasn't lying, truth be told. she was no stranger to being in a conversation with him, at parties and at events both of them were attending, that involved exchanged fact after fact after fact with each other, hours passing by as they discussed nature topics and the newest piece of information to do with outer space and all the theories coming from online.

with the hour closing in, she didn't want the conversations to end. and she knew, in the back of her mind, that she needed him back on her podcast for another episode because he understood her. and she understood him. and their talks flowed effortlessly with no need for extra encouragement from those around them in the room.

he was an interesting man and she wanted more.

both personally and for her podcast.

anyone else getting heart eye vibes from the two of them???

yn was in her element for this episode!!

arthur being on this podcast just made my day. we need more of the two of them!!!

the way there was no silence at all this entire episode. conversations flow between these two.

the two of them are the same person, i swear.

without a doubt, arthur is the male version of yn. that's adorable.

its like the universe copied and pasted their personalities into two people of the opposite genders. that's so cute!!

"the podcast episode was a hit thanks to you."

yn surprises him and made him jump as she approached him at the bar, his figure turning from where he was stood with his back to her so he could pull her in for a hug, and she grins up at him before her own arms wrapped around his waist. a sex on the beach cocktail held tight in her hand and she was careful not to spill it down the back of his shirt.

"i was wondering where you were," he says and lets go of her to pick up his beer that had been placed on the bartop, "when you texted me to say you were coming to chris' birthday drinks, i knew i had to come and find you when you arrived."

"looks like i beat you to it," she says and she takes a sip of her drink through the straw, "people loved the two of us together on there."

"yeah?"

she nods quickly.

"i'm pretty sure it was the best episode to date. figures wise," she says and he grins widely, looking over her shoulder and seeing a free table in the corner of the room, using his head to indicate for her to look at where he was looking, "i'm gon'a need you to feature again, for sure."

she turns on her heels and wiggles her way through the crowd, the feeling of his hand resting on the base of her back driving her insane as she set her drink down on the table and hopped up on the stool, watching as he did the same.

"i'm not keeping you from chris, am i?"

"no, he's about to hop on the karaoke with isaac," arthur cackles out loud and looks over his shoulder at where his two friends were arguing over the song book, "i'm too sober for that at the moment so I can't think of anything worse right now."

"you're not one of those party poopers, are you?"

"no," he shakes his head, "i just need to be almost blackout drunk in order to belt out my lungs really, really poorly."

"i think i need to get some shots in you then because i really need to see that tonight." xx

#arthurtv #arthurtv fics #arthurtv headcannons #arthurtv imagines #arthurtv blurbs #arthur frederick #arthur frederick imagines #arthur frederick blurbs #arthur frederick fics #arthur frederick headcannons

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xanticore · 3 months

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𝐔𝐍𝐄𝐗𝐏𝐄𝐂𝐓𝐄𝐃 𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐑

Genre: fluff

Note: this is my first metallica fic so pleaseee keep that in mind. I hope whoever reads this enjoys.

Setting: late 90s ~ early 2000s..ish

Summary: Kirk is on tour and he decides to stop by the local guitar store. He ends up staying longer than expected when he overhears a riff that sounded impressive. Assuming it was a guy, but was taken aback when it was a girl...a girl who doesn't seem to know who he is.

It was the weekend and I was starting my weekend off, our next show being on Thursday and Friday of next week. This gave me time to myself to find local comic stores and guitar shops. I was honestly in my own little world as time passed by quickly; I didn't mind at all because I was going to do the whole process again on Sunday. I left the comic book store with a new manga and some new released volumes. All Junji Ito works, no surprise there.

The next stop of the day was the guitar shop. The air was cool and the store was just so fucking huge, It was heaven to me. The store had a variety of items. Vinlys, cassettes, cds, and even some band posters...but my main focus was the guitar wall. All different types of styles and colors, different collaborations of pop culture, anything you could think of-this store probably had it.

A guitar that has been newly stock was the black and red Les Paul. It looked so gothic and vampiric. Younger me was just screaming at me to get it...which It was my plan. I asked a worker to take it off the shelf so I could practice some riffs on it. Just as I imagine; it was a smooth and crisp sound. A sound I was looking feel and I probably would make this guitar debut when I head to Japan.

It was already 5 pm and James was just blowing up my phone. I forgot all about our band dinner. I sighed packing up my things and unhooked the guitar from the amp. On my way towards the front to ring up my guitar, I overheard a riff coming from a room that was being occupied. It looked like it was a guitar lesson in session.

I continued to listen and soon heard a solo. It was definitely in the metal genre. Whoever that dude was; shredding that guitar like it was the last thing on earth. It intimidated me how good it sounded. Almost making me jealous of how I didn't think to use this type of style in a song.

I heard them stop and minor shuffling going on in the room. I quickly walked away and acted like I was looking at the vinyls. I glanced over at the door and saw a tall beautiful girl. She nearly took my breath away. The way she played really matched her style of clothing. She was a goth but it was familiar style I've seen in Japan. Her hair was dyed a dark red and her make up was flawless.

I needed to compliment her and asked her about that solo of hers. I was stupidly stuck in my place but managed to get to her with a sudden boost of confidence. "H-Hey, nice guitar. I heard you playing in that room. You sounded amazing." I complimented her with a smile in admiration.

She smiled back and looked somewhat excited. Did she recognize me? Did she not expect a guitarist from the most known metal band of all time-

"Thank you so much! Are you also a fan of Malice Mizer? I was playing one of their songs."

"Malice Mizer? never heard of them.."

The girl frowned but soon lit up when she started to explain the band to me. "It's a rock band from Japan. Visual Kei style of music over there. I'm really into bands like X Japan and Dir En Grey."

I've never heard any X Japan songs but I definitely seen posters of them in Shibuya. I know they are well loved and idolized in the era of rock music over there.

"There's actually a Malice Mizer cassette next to you of their new album. You should buy it and give them a listen? They won't disappoint." She giggled. I eyed her movements when she moved closer to me, only to pick up the packaged cassette tape. The cover had a silver cross and the band's name in black in the middle. But enough about them, her little giggle was just so cute. If only I could hear that from her more often.

"I'm Kirk."

"(name)"

A beautiful name as well. I didn't want to add anymore details of my name because I knew it wouldn't matter and honestly...i'm really enjoying that. It felt more natural to speak with a non fan. Nothing was forced and she genuinely seemed to enjoy just talking about her favorite music; unlike some girls i'd meet at clubs.

"Well Kirk, I hope to see you around?"

I didn't say a word but I just nodded. I tried to stay positive but it was a pain I wasn't gonna see her again. I bought my guitar and cassette watching the cashier put it in a case. I left the store happy and somewhat sad, but, seeing that girl smile just brighten up my mood...

I hope to see her again.

a/n: so what we thinking?? yay or nay?

gif from: @ba11ltongue

dividers: cr to owners

#metallica #kirk hammett #kirk hammett x reader #metallica x reader #fanfic #fanfiction #scenarios #first fic #james hetfield #lars ulrich #robert trujillo #cliff burton #jason newsted #dave mustaine #metallica fanfiction #metallica fanfic

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mybutcheredtongue · 9 months

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I'll Love You 'til the Grass Around My Gravestone is Deceased

harry potter timeline Sirius Black x fem!reader

You lived out your years at Hogwarts with the company of your best friends, Lily Evans and Alice Fortescue. You fell in love with one of the infamous Marauders, Sirius Black. After school, you married and became Mrs Black, living in a home full of love and life with your faithful husband. Your happy life is cut short when Sirius is wrongfully convicted of the murder of Peter Pettigrew and several muggles, and sent straight to Azkaban without trial. The Ministry thinks you must be connected, but after several days of investigation and questioning, litres of veritaserum thrown down your throat, you're proven innocent. You have maintained his innocence ever since, knowing Sirius would never do something like that. The only person who'll hire you is Albus Dumbledore, and with his help your name is reverted to its maiden and your past is buried deep.

This story follows your life during your time as a professor at Hogwarts when Harry Potter joins the school and everything changes.

FULL of angst but has a happy ending.

No use of Y/N

This fic is mostly a collection of moments and scenes! So a lot of time skips.

p.s. title is from the song "I Love You" by Fontaines D.C. — one of my favourite bands!! would so so recommend checking them out :)

CHAPTER ONE (see full series list here)

1991

You glance at your watch, the hand ticking slowly as it moves to show 9:03 p.m.

Finally, the large wooden door opens and a scrawny young boy pushes forward, huffing tiredly, and less than 20 odd first-year students filter into the astronomy tower.

"Evening, everyone!" You say cheerfully. The Gryffindors and Ravenclaws stand awkwardly as they gaze around the room in wonderment.

You feel proud of it. The last astronomy professor had left this room a little...boring, so when you came into employment you spruced it up a little bit. Though there aren't many to write on, each wall is plastered in hand-painted constellations with their names in 5 languages written underneath. You had cast a spell on the floor to conjure up a moon, one that matched the real one's lunar phases. Today, a waxing gibbous.

Telescopes line the edges of the circular room, each pointing high into the sky. You eye your favourite for a moment, the same telescope you'd used during your own years as a student at Hogwarts.

It feels like home in this room.

"Welcome to the Astronomy Tower," you say with a smile. "Here, you'll learn all about the wonders of our universe and its planets, galaxies, stars...everything. Please, find a telescope and stand behind it. We'll start with charting some simple constellations today."

The students obediently line behind a telescope each. Your eyes immediately focus on a young boy, with jet black hair and circular glasses. You lose your train of thought for a moment, feeling as though you're looking at a ghost.

He's the very image of James Potter.

Then, he turns to look at you and his eyes strike you. Green and vibrant, full of youth and gentleness.

Lily.

You feel your breath catch in your throat, but quickly shake your head of the grief and clap you hands, smiling at the students again.

"Astronomy is one of the very few subjects that is present in both the wizarding and the muggle world. That means that there are millions of resources out there for all of you to use, whether it be from a wizarding standpoint or a muggle one! Interesting stuff," you continue. "Now, I want you all to do a small task for me. Look through your telescope — please don't change any lenses just yet — and try and see if you can spot a constellation. Then, using the first page of your book, see if you can figure out which constellation it is. Call me over when you think you have one!"

The students immediately start rooting through their bags for their Astronomy textbooks and you sigh gently, content with your introduction. First-years are always well interested and curious about everything, so Astronomy is a pretty easy subject for them to get into. After all, lots of the first year curriculum is just looking at pretty stars and constellations.

"Professor, I think I have one!" A young Gryffindor girl with bushy brown hair and an excited face says to you, throwing her hand in the air enthusiastically.

You smile, walking over to her. "What's your name, dear?"

"Hermione Granger, professor."

"And what constellation do you think you've found?"

"Aquila, professor," she beams, pointing a finger to the small, 'T' shaped constellation in her book.

You close one eye and look through her telescope, noticing it immediately.

You grin at her. "Well spotted, Miss Granger! Excellent work." You glance at her scarlet and gold tie. "5 points to Gryffindor for being the first one!"

Her face lights up proudly.

"Now, let's see if you can find any of the stars present in it. Any at all, though you may find it difficult to differentiate — "

"The star of Altair, professor!"

Your eyes widen and you chuckle in surprise. "Well, aren't you just making my job a whole lot easier for me? Well done, Miss Granger. Please chart that constellation down on some parchment and continue looking."

In the next few minutes, many students find constellations and are charting them down. One boy seems to be having a particularly difficult time.

"Neville Longbottom, isn't it?" You say as you wander up to him. He jumps at the sound of your voice, knocking his forehead against the edge of his telescope and letting out a small yelp of pain. "Oh, sorry..." You wave your wand gently and his eyebrows raise, bringing a hand to his forehead in surprise.

"Just a small healing spell. For minor, minor injuries," you tell him. "How is your charting going?"

The boy's cheeks go red and his eyes focus on the floor beneath him. "I...haven't been able to find one, professor. I — I thought I had one ages ago, but there were too many stars in it..."

"Let me have a look, Mr Longbottom," you say kindly, bringing your eye up to the lens and grinning. "Well, you most definitely have found one. One I didn't think anyone would find!"

You glance at Neville's face, and he's the picture of shock.

"Pisces, Mr Longbottom. Trust your judgement! Excellent work."

Neville grins, and you step aside, but not before he says something else.

"Uh, professor..."

"Yes?"

"How do...how do you know my name?"

You study his face and smile again. The very picture of Frank Longbottom. With Alice Fortescue's mousy hair.

"I went to school with your parents, Mr Longbottom. You're the spitting image of your father."

Next, the young boy with jet black hair and glasses calls you over. Harry Potter. The Boy Who Lived.

"What one have you found, Mr Potter?"

As he looks at you, green eyes connecting with your own, you try your hardest not to see Lily staring back at you. You try your hardest not to picture your best friend, your honourary sister, a woman of true light in a world full of darkness.

Your heart has felt lonely since her absence. Since James. Since Alice. Since Frank. Since Peter.

You blink.

"Uh, Canis Major, I think?"

You swallow hard. Of course.

"Let me have a look see..." He's right of course, you don't even need to look. You can spot that constellation any night without a telescope. You know it like the back of your hand. "You're dead right, Mr Potter. Brilliant constellation, that is. Canis Major means 'the Great Dog', and it actually contains the brightest star in the night sky visible to our naked eye, Si — "

"Oh, wait, hold on..." Harry says, flicking through his book to find the page on Canis Major. He pauses, eyes skimming down the page. "Uh, Sirius, right?"

You bite your lip, feeling your heart speed up. You take a deep breath, forcing a smile. "Yes, Mr Potter. Sirius."

Your favourite star.

Your favourite person.

Your heart has been broken since his absence.

"Good work." You promptly spin on your heel, heading for your desk as you glance down at your watch. "Alright, everyone. Excellent work today! Now, I won't set anyone any written homework...but if you're truly interested and find you have a little free time, try and see if you can chart any other constellations! Night, everyone."

The students chat animatedly amongst themselves and exit down the spiral stairs, leaving you alone in the room. You sit down at your desk, sighing as you slip a key from your pocket and open one of the drawers. You pull out a small photograph, eyes wandering over the young, elated faces of James Potter, Lily Evans, Sirius Black, Remus Lupin, Peter Pettigrew, Alice Fortescue, Frank Longbottom, and yourself.

Graduation day.

One the left, you're standing in the middle of Alice and Lily, arms around them and laughing wholeheartedly. James stands beside Lily, arms around her and Sirius beside him, who's connected with Remus, Peter, and Frank.

You smile weakly. You remember that day, all full of hope and joy. There was some sadness too, sadness to be leaving Hogwarts and ultimately leaving childhood.

Your fingers gently skim over Sirius' face, feeling your heart ache.

What you wouldn't give to go back to that day.

⁠✧⁠*⁠。✧⁠*⁠。

Dear Moony,

I hope you're well! School's started back up again. Been a bit crazy lately, sorry that I haven't written since your last letter. Someone let a troll into the dungeon. Quirrell went mad, fainted in the middle of dinner and set all the students into a panic. It was torture.

Harry's started here. It's hard to look at him sometimes. He's the image of James. It's uncanny. He has Lily's eyes, too. Sometimes I start to feel like I can talk to them through him, even though I know that's mad of me. Neville Longbottom's here too. He's just like his parents. Both in Gryffindor, you'll be happy to know.

Dumbledore's gave me strict instructions not to say a word to Harry about it all. Says it'll be too much for him. He won't be able to understand why I couldn't have raised him instead of the Dursleys. He says that Harry will only start digging around for more information on me if he finds out I'm his godmother. He'd ask about his godfather then. It's too much for a young boy to know that his godfather is in Azkaban.

I wanted to talk to him so bad, Remus. I want to tell him about his parents, show him the photos. I want him to be able to feel at home here, feel like he's got someone here. A part of his family. I know exactly what those Dursleys are like. Petunia always hated James, you know that well enough. I hate that I have to keep this secret for even longer.

I talked to young Neville though. Merlin, he has Alice's clumsiness, that's for sure. Such a sweet lad. He was more than happy to see photos of the two and hear stories about them. I feel like a little bit of the weight that's been hanging over me has been lifted. I even showed him that photo of Alice falling into the Black Lake in 5th Year. If she was of sound mind she'd surely throttle me for that.

I think I need to get out of the castle for a bit. Wanna get a coffee? It's been a while.

I've omitted a few details of the past few weeks so I have something interesting to tell you about next weekend, if you're up for it.

all my love,

You sign the letter, folding up the parchment gently and dropping it in an envelope. You grab your bland wax stamper and press a small circle of black wax over the envelope's seal. You slip it into your pocket and stand up from your bed. Beside you, your black cat, Dubh*, stirs from her sleep and meowls at you.

You give her a loving scratch behind the ears. "Just popping down to the owlery. I'll be back."

On your way down to the owlery, you pass two lanky, identical students with heads full of ginger hair. They haven't noticed you yet. They're peering around the corner at Filch, a suspicious-looking bag in one of their hands.

"Bit late for the two of you to be out, isn't it?" You whisper behind them. They wheel around immediately and their eyes widen in shock.

"Professor! We — uh, we weren't doing anything!" George blurts out.

"Don't you look just lovely tonight, Professor? There is such a...healthy glow about you," Fred remarks suavely and you raise an unamused eyebrow at him.

"I sincerely hope you don't think I'm that thick, Mr Weasley."

"Never, Professor!"

You sigh, shaking your head. "Off to bed, both of you. Quickly, before Filch can catch you. I advise you to keep your pranks within the time you're actually allowed out of bed."

Fred's shoulders slump in disappointment, his want for a good prank evident on his face. George however, is staring at you in surprise.

"No detention?"

Fred immediately smacks his hand over the back of George's head, scowling at him. "Don't give her any ideas!"

"Get going, you two."

They take it this time, quickly scampering down the hallway. You step out from it, into the same one as Filch, who's eyeing you suspiciously.

"Is someone there?"

"Only me, Mr Filch," you answer.

"I thought I heard voices."

"Just me. I was trying to remember a poem I heard recently, it's three pages long. Would you like to hear it?"

Filch's face contorts immediately. "No."

You shrug. "Suit yourself."

You walk past him and out into the cold night air, trying to suppress the smile on your face.

⁠✧⁠*⁠。✧⁠*⁠。

->-> read chapter two here!

*Dubh: pronounced 'duv'. Irish word for 'black'.

→ all types of interaction appreciated ♡

#sirius black #sirius black x reader #sirius black x you #fanfiction #fanfic #hp #harry potter #harry potter fanfiction #marauders #the marauders #angst #angst with a happy ending

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weirdgenetic-fuckup · 5 months

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Hiiiii can you do no nut November with the rest of metallica too ( james, kirk, and jason or cliff or both ) ??

*also I loooooove your fics ❤️

A/n: Thank you sm! I'm glad you like my writing <3. I really should've expected people to request for the rest of Metallica lol so I wrote this, I'm also going to rewrite the one for Lars because someone asked for another with him and I figured why not, Cliff is also coming.

I make no guarantee's that any of these come out in a timely manner though :'3

Kirk, Lars, James, Jason

(Pre-written Lars + Cliff)

Metallica had another interview. Going into it none of them thought it would be any different to any other ones they’ve done, they’d talk about tour dates, upcoming albums, plans for the future, etc, etc.

Just as they expected they were hit with the usual questions, and a new one.

“What are your thoughts on no nut November?” The interviewer asked from behind the camera. The four bandmates exchanged confused looks.

“What the fuck is that?” Lars asked. The interviewer gave a small chuckle.

“You try not to, um, participate in any, uh, inappropriate acts..?” The explanation was met with more questioning faces.

“We can’t fuck for a month?” James asked.

“Exactly.” Silence.

“Well, that’s fucking stupid,” Lars stated, “who the fuck would do that?”

“I thought that was just just every month for you.” James teased with that horse grin of his. Lars swatted at him.

“You think I’d beat you then?” James went to say something but paused as he didn’t know how to respond to that. He didn’t want to lose but in this case it might be better?

It was clear the interviewer was intrigued with this, it was a new story about an uprising band. Everyone would want to hear about this, surely, no?

After some arguing, Kirk trying to calm James and Lars down and Jason just giggling at the whole scene, they came to an agreement of sorts. If they were the ones to initiate something with anyone, they lost. Jerking off and wet dreams also count as a loss. The exception was that if someone else initiated it, it wasn’t a loss.

Where the idea was had been lost on pretty much everyone, no money was set on the line, nothing happens if you lose. It was a bet based on how you thought of it, but it got James and Lars to calm down and the agency the interview was with was more than happy to pay for the details of the challenge to print in upcoming magazines.

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violetwhisperswolfstar · 4 months

Text

The Evolution Of A Wolfstar Girlie

(with my fic recommendations)me aged 10-23: there will never be a book I like more than Harry Potter. I love books and read all the time but Harry Potter is above anything. Reread HP everytime I am feeling down.

me aged 24-30: I lost the ability to read for pleasure. Just read to my kids and A LOT for work.

me at 31: *after a random tiktok video* Sirius and Remus were TOGETHER together?! Never even crossed my mind!!!

But... I get it.

But like... JKR didn't write it. Fanfic is just amateurs writing, right? I have enough of reading as is, I have to read for my job (I'm a translator).

But... They promised it's a HP experience. And I do have an eReader... It costs nothing to try it.

But... What the hell is ao3? What is smut??? Fluff??? HEA? MCD??? Cannon?? AU? Excuse me, is this English?!

The following then happend over 2 months time:

📖 Reading All the Young Dudes

OK, this is really very much like HP. I am getting hooked. This is ACTUALLY what happend, right? Like this is amazingly written. How is this not a real book? (What IS a real book and how do I not know this being a book translator?!) Are Sirius and Remus getting together in this one?

Oh my!

Actually, I've not been this obsessed with a book in like 10+ years.

Reading all through the night (with three kids, mind you, so a very stupid idea)

🎶Love this music!!! Have always loved rock, Queen, Beatles, Bowie, led Zeppelin… You name it. But this makes it better!!!

Finishing ATYD: OMG! OMG! I AM OBSESSED. They need to be together forever. I need to re-read it.

A SEX SCENE in Harry Potter?! EXCUSE YOU! Like… Didn't know I needed that. Thank you.

Of course they had teenage sex at that school. Yes to a giant snake killing people with its sight and no to some friendly petting? Yeah, sure, JKR! Be for real! Never thought about it like that before. And of course they had parties. And smoked (weed) and did drugs. Like… It's a boarding school for heaven's sake! this is much more realistic. Finally know what smut is and I am here for it.

I want a cigarette SO BAD right now (haven't smoked for YEARS)

googling specifics of gay sex because I never thought about it (and I live in a very conservative country) (and like I had QUESTIONS, excuse you, like can you just do butt stuff without prep?!)

finding 📖 explicit one-shots from ATYD

📖 Reading ATYD sirius's POV:

This is ALSO good. So... fanfics on the internet can just... be amazing, right? How has this existed for years and I did not know about it?? Sirius is obsessed LOL. He fell first and he fell harder, the poor boy.

My husband is SO MUCH like Remus. (personality-wise). Guess I know my type, lol.

These fanfics are written better than majority of books I've read. I'm utterly amazed.

📖 Reading Out of the Blue and Bootleg Tapes:

OK, I needed some healing. Happy for Grant and all. But I need wolfstar more.

📖 We could be heroes (finding out what a "fix-it fic" is)

Yes! Wolfstar endgame! A happy ending! Yes!!

Intrusive thoughts: Is ATYD wolfstar like… toxic?

Are they ever happy?

Don't go there, brain!!

Trying to heal with 📖Manacled, then DMATMOOBIL.

Like Dramione. But wolfstar is far superior.

Also have to note that Draco is amazing in bed.

Not a sentence I've ever thought I utter or think. Ever.

Finding 📖 Cadence Of Part-time Poets

sceptical.

How can muggle AU be good? Don't I like all this because of the magic?

Reading it, re-reading it.

Buying an e-cigarette (cause I have to DEAL ffuck's sake and they smoke in like every second scene and ecigarrete is the least of all evil)

Obsessing.

Cannot get enough.

Best. Thing. Ever. Written.

Somehow more magic than magic U.

DOES REGULUS LIKE JAMES?

Seeing the possibilities of Jegulus (is everyone gay in the end? Excuse me, Am I GAY at this point ?)

THE MUSIC OMG THE MUSIC IS MUSICING!!! I am in love with the music! How are Marauders not a band in cannon?! Like that's obviously what they were always supposed to be! Lottie, Simon, Tonya, Tomny… They ARE cannon for me lol. They were there and you cannot convince me otherwise.

Cannot read more, afraid I will lose this Cadence feeling. Just re-reading the best scenes over and over. Stalking motswolo's tumblr. Consuming all there is about Cadence out there. Trying to talk to people about it but noone reads fanfics here!

Can we like start a gofund me for them to get therapy??? I want to see them diagnosed, aware of their traumas and forever together.

Also, why is Remadora a thing? Thank god it wasn't in Cadence (yet) but sometimes i remember it exists and like… vomit internally. Gosh, I rly hate JKR. She just did it to discourage Wolfstar.

getting to read 📖 Black Mass Over Highway 90:

Very sceptical at first.

It's American… and Marauders are essentially English. Remus somewhere in Texas… of all places? Afraid this won't be my cup of tea... Cowboy Remus?! wtf

OMG.

This scene basically porn… right? Why do I LOVE THIS?!

Remus is DADDY! Officer Moons!!! He can get it. Like omg. Cowboy Lupin FTW!!

THIS IS the SMUT, RIGHT?! Like do I even want to watch porn at this point? How am I - a cis female in a hetero relationship of 14 years with 3 kids - finding this SO HOT?!

📖 Reading Blends

Also very sceptical.

But... it's so sweet! Is this fluff? Am I discovering fluffy fics? Now, this is comfort reading! Coffe-shop AU? Like, this is where I want to die, my friends! This is so sweet, so incredibly sweet, and I DO NOT miss Voldy and his stupid war one bit, like to hell with him, he can order an Americano and Remus will decaf him at this point!

I am in LOVE!

📖 Reading Names (Blends sequel) because can you do anything else at this point?

Now this is... a whole other thing. It is fluffy, yes. But it goes deeper. And... wider somehow?

It's the first WIP I give a chance.

Cluster headaches are an AMAZING parallel to lycantrophy.

HOW exactly are people this talented just out there publishing fanfics?!

And this "slice of life" thing IS doing it for me. Like really.

📖 Reading Crimson Rivers

Is there anything else besides angst in this?

Wait, James likes... Regulus?!

discovering Jegulus -

wow. I am utterly amazed... cannot put this down at any point of the day. Reading while breastfeeding, reading all through the night. Reading all through the day. Learning how to read and braid my hair at the same time.

I keep thinking - why DO I love gay man/boys stories? How did it come to this? How is this FREE? How do I GIVE BACK to these AMAZING authors that are just doing incredible things for me? Like this is everything I've ever wanted from a book... and they're not even getting paid for this?!

📖 Reading a bunch of short fics inbetween (honorable mentions: Like Real People Do, That's the Art of Getting by, Led by Light of a Star Sweetly Gleaming, Pages of You - discovering Drarry, thinking Drarry is less angst because there's less homophobia in the 90s,

📖 Reading Only the Brave

OK, it's Jegulus, let's give it a chance...

OMG

I feel like ever since getting into this fandom, I'm just falling and falling and falling. Falling... In love.

This is so good, you guys. I love JEGULUS!

But as long as WOLFSTAR are together, I can deal (took them half a fic to get together, so please don't do anything stupid!)

I. CANNOT. STOP. READING. WOLFSTAR.

In every universe.

Wolfstar & fanfic taught me not to have any prejudice. And I also discovered that I was quite prejudiced without being aware of it!

I can read anything with those two... just don't break my heart and just let them be together.

Wolfstar made me read again and actually enjoy it. It's been several thousands of pages in a couple of months and I don't regret the lack of sleep…

They are soulmates. In every universe. I don't know what this fetish is called but I need them to be together, see them together, read them together. Love them both. Just need them to be happy.

I am completely amazed at the sheer power the internet has, that an online community has. This is my new obsession and I am utterly devoted to it. It taught me and gave me SO MUCH. I will forever be learning how to give anything back.

Thank you.

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albonious · 10 months

Note

hiii hope u dont mind me asking, but could u recommend ur favorite galex long fics out there? also!! ur fic u have pinned i read it before we even were mutuals and it's SO GOOD one of my favs!!

ahh thank you so much, i'm glad you liked it!!

i don't know what you consider a longfic but since there are barely any 50k+ galex-centered fics i will list my favourites that are 20k+ lol

all green lights by venerat (22k) f1 driver george texts the wrong number after a hookup and he and non-famous alex start texting, and then they accidentally meet in a club.

it's you i fell into by glitterbb (@yesterdayiwrote) (22k) george and alex go on married at first sight and get married to each other.

nothing but teeth by crescenteluce (@janinaduszejko) (25k) george finds out alex has hooked up with guys and becomes obsessed with it, so they end up hooking up as well and not talking about their feelings (but what else is new).

you and me till the end of time by alltimecharlo (28k) george has a four-year-old daughter and alex is her preschool teacher, and actually, his daughter's preschool teacher is really cute, george thinks.

wait 'till the world is mine by lewisshamilton (@georgerussells) (30k) this is a classic. george finds out he's the crown prince of the uk and alex is with him through all his struggles.

who's that guy? by ohmygaslys (singsweetmelodies) (@singsweetmelodies) and welightitup (@welightitup) (31k) a new girl au! if you (like me) have never seen new girl, yuki, pierre and alex live together and after max and daniel moved out, they needed two new roommates, who end up being (surprise surprise) george and charles, who also happen to be alex' and pierre's exes. george and charles think pierre and alex are dating, pierre and alex think george and charles are dating and yuki is just so. incredibly. done with them all.

what do i know? show me the right way to go. by tiredtiredsharl (34k) musician alex and actor george used to date, but broke up and became strangers. years later, they reconnect because the band alex is in is writing the theme for the james bond movie george will be playing in.

champagne gold by lewisshamilton (@georgerussells) (34k) alex, son of the uk's prime minister, and george, crown prince of the uk, fall in love. it's as simple as that. (loosely inspired by rw&rb).

ode to a conversation stuck in your throat by prettyrotten (@prettydangrotten) (40k) loads and loads of miscommunication, they both can't talk about their thoughts for shit and it's so awkward but it's so damn rewarding when they finally get their shit together and talk.

confide in me by glitterbb (@yesterdayiwrote) (45k) alex, writing for a right-wing tabloid, meets george, son of the labour party leader, at a labour party event and against all odds, they fall in love.

if you know some more good galex fics, please send them to me, i am desperate for some more content of them!

#all of these are so good i'm so obsessed with all of them #myr answers #f1 #f1 rpf #galex #f1 fic rec #fic rec #george russell #alex albon

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calamitoustide · 5 months

Note

PLEASE, I NEED THE BAND AU! THE ANGRY TWEETS REGULUS WOULD SEND BACK!

A BAND AU IS THE ONE THING I CAN'T WRITE I WOULD IF I COULD

I swear I've tried to write like 10 over all my time here but I can't it's like impossible for me i swear but yes reg would want to send all the angry tweets back but also James would absolutely not want that at all

Like in my head Reg is not in the spotlight at all like no one knows who he is since Sirius got famous before meeting him again in adulthood and actually being brothers again so Reg has always been kinda distant to all of that, and Sirius isn't like shoving him in the fame especially when that's something Reg has specially told him he does not want like it isn't made for him he likes a quiet life so he has a twitter account he never uses sure but no one cares about him Sirius doesn't even follow him because he doesn't want Reg to get flooded with people wondering who he is

So Reg is the one person James can be with and just be with he's normal he doesn't have this big life and James loves that so fucking much it's relieving it's a comfort. He knows Reg has nothing to do with the world that chewed him out and tried to shove him away so they have their little bubble and it's kind and sweet and he wants it to stay that way. He likes sitting on the floor with an old guitar and playing for Reg and Reg only. He likes living in their house without fearing for fans to be outside their door every other day

And then the video leaks and well Reg's voice is in the background telling James he loves him and there are pictures of him on the wall of James kissing his cheek as clear as day and people find him. Fast. His account is flooded and people are suddenly caring about him and wanting to know everything about him. And James feels so fucking guilty because Reg didn't want that life he didn't want any of that and now James gave it to him.

Reg of course, only cares about James and doesn't care if people know who he is fuck them. But then he sees the tweets for the first time and how they're all making James out to be this villain and he fucking snaps he wants to go scream at all of them and post every sweet little video he has of James to show them that he's kind and lovely and could never do something heinous or selfish ever, but he also wants to keep James under his chest and never show him to the world again because they don't fucking deserve him

He comes so close to just making a tweet screaming at people to stay away from James he's so fucking close to just telling them all to fuck off and let them live their lives but James is already a mess and having panic attacks again even though he hasn't had them in months he's been so good. So Regulus just shuts off his phone and tries his best to mend their little bubble because James needs him to. James needs to be in a little fort of their own making and make all that other shit go away.

Sirius on the other hand would be making angry tweets and telling the entire world to get the fuck away from his brother and best friend.

#sorry you didn't ask for me to ramble on :/#i just have many things to say #and this fic idea is just like... becoming a thing #but also in the fic it would end with either them hiding forever basically #like just moving away to somewhere far and living out peacefully #or it would end with James going back to the spotlight and speaking out about his mental health and helping people #and Reg would be right by his side #he would walk into the spotlight with him #wherever james goes he goes #i don't think he'd become a full part of the band again though #that time has passed #and that's okay he doesn't need to go back to it

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queers-gambit · 7 months

Note

Hello my lovely, it’s me your babygirl. Remember me? 🥰🥰

I know you’re busy working on fics rn so take as much time as you want to answer!

I’ve got a very important question regarding Felix that I’d love your opinion on it & share my thoughts with you!

*quickly runs to give you the biggest hug & spin you in my arms* 😘

So…. What do we think a Felix x reader wedding would look like at Saltburn? A grand extravaganza with a million guests or an intimate ceremony with just the Cattons?

Obviously they take every opportunity to throw a party at Saltburn so a wedding is the ultimate bash in the eyes of the Cattons.

Or would Felix just decide to change it entirely and just want it to be a tiny intimate thing since he wants this to feel quiet and special. And then maybe some big party another day to the delight of Elspeth and sir James.

For Felix he’s so laid back and in love all he cares about is his girl and what will make her happy. They are so young and in love i wouldn’t be surprised if he proposed on a lazy Sunday morning or a day reading naked in the field, just because he was so blissfully happy he knew there was nobody he’d rather spend these kind of days with for the rest of his life.

Side notes: Venetia would be maid of honor right? I see Elspeth as the mother in law that makes herself heavenly involved with planning and gives her brutally honest opinion picking out the dress 😅 I can even picture stoic Duncan trying to hold back tears while he’s holding a tissue box to Elspeth or sir James while they read their vows.

…

Sorry for the endless ranging but I’m aching to know your thoughts and see if you’ve thought about this too!!

of course i remember you, baby girl! welcome back!

i needed a break from writing, so thank you for sending this, my darling! it's always good to refresh the pallet, and this ask really got me thinking!

let's get into it!

kinda-sorta wedding AU HC's

pairing: Felix Catton x female!reader

fandom masterlist: Saltburn

word count: 1.4k+

warnings: suspiciously none

so your question all depends on the Reader, but i'll try to answer best i can.

the Saltburn wedding is definitely a huge, extravagant ordeal. the Cattons are well connected, so, it wouldn't just be Felix and Reader's peers attending, but ALL family from both sides, as well as family friends, too. Reader's family is invited to Saltburn a week before matrimony; where they try to help, but the Cattons have hired 3 different wedding planners to make this the most talked-about event in any social circles.

every room in Saltburn is cleaned and decorated. an abundance of flowers are shipped in to be hung from the ceilings and bannisters. there's BOTH a live band and a DJ, an erected outdoor dance floor.

now, i can see two different things: 1. Felix and Reader marry in the local church and then the reception is hosted at Saltburn. 2. they marry on Saltburn's property and still have the big ass reception on the grounds.

either way, it's most def a summer wedding to utilize optimal weather. it's a reason to wear the best clothes, drink expensive liquor excessively, and indulge in gluttony. it's a night designed to make attendants jealous.

there's well over 300 people, Sir James and Elspeth combing through their address books to send invites even to family friends they haven't spoken to in years. they're the kind of parents that take advantage of their child getting married; it's the best excuse to show off and have a grand celebration, to prove the family doesn't do anything half-assed. if they can throw extravagant parties just for the hell of it, they definitely feel pressure to out-do themselves.

it's like this wedding isn't *for* Felix and Reader, but more so for the Cattons to show up and show out. it's not about a union of two people, but an excuse to gloat and smash their privilege in everyone's face.

Felix eats it up 'cause it's all he knows, the spoilt rich boy, but Reader's a little uncomfortable with the sheer size and details of her wedding. but in the same breath, she's relaxed because she KNOWS this is just how the Cattons operate and she doesn't really have to lift a single finger.

so, Reader lets Elspeth plan her ideal wedding - 'cause there's no way she's not involved. they make some decisions together, it's a bonding experience for Reader and her soon-to-be MIL, but for the most part, it's the matriarch doing most of the heavy lifting.

Felix and Reader only get to decide on wedding colors, catering options, and the cake. and even then, they have to endure his family's opinions.

Reader doesn't even get to 100% choose her dress, hair, and make up. Elspeth basically decides everything. i agree with you and think Mrs. Catton would impose herself even on the wedding dress selection, becoming persnickety, opinionated, and a little snarky when Reader shows off her dresses. this causes tension with Reader's family, who think the older woman far too self-important, and maybe it's Reader's mother or sister that stands up to her and insists Elspeth keep quiet since this *isn't* her wedding and they don't want any influences on Reader. they want Reader to choose her perfect wedding dress without scrutiny since she has no say in anything else.

in fact, maybe - juuuuuust maybe - Reader's family takes her to shop for a wedding dress without Elspeth in an effort to dial down the stress. it's not meant maliciously, but Elspeth simply cannot help herself and takes over everything; so, Reader's family figures if she's not there, Reader can make a decision *for herself*.

when Elspeth finds out, she's hurt, but it's Sir James that calms his wife down by reminding her that she had something not-so-nice to say about damn near every single dress Reader tries on. so, she accepts this one detail being out of her control.

the entire wedding screams "old money" because half of the decorations and details are wildly redundant, but there's no such thing as cost to the family. Elspeth is def living vicariously because she thinks she knows best, so she spares no expense - perhaps even going as far as to rent exotic peacocks to roam the grounds simply because the Cattons can!

they're definitely going "Crazy Rich Asians" in the sense that Felix's marriage is going to be the event of the decade, like Collin and Araminta's wedding. again, it's not even about the union but just a chance for the Cattons to remind everyone that they were lesser-than. Felix thinks it's normal, he thinks this is how it's supposed to be 'cause he's def removed from reality, and truth be told, he loves the attention. the bragging rights.

Felix might be a bit more reserved than his family, but he's still a Catton and glamour is *all* he knows, especially for an event like this. he doesn't stand up to his parents because they're paying for everything, which makes him feels as if he's not entitled to an opinion. so, he lets Sir James and Elspeth plan the wedding they want since all Felix has to do is show up. he'll do his best to alleviate stress, acting as a buffer between his betrothed and parents, but he doesn't dare open his mouth.

this is marketed as a once in a lifetime celebration, so nobody is willing to butt heads with Sir and Mrs. Catton.

on that note, yeah, i can see Felix having an intimate proposal. maybe in the field at sunset, maybe at a cafe in town, but not in bed. he's got a flare for the dramatic, so odds are, he's actually down on one knee. he's young, so he doesn't need to make a huge ordeal for the proposal since it's an incredibly intimate moment. he might even proposal on a whim / impulsively. he's had a ring for months, planning the best moment to ask Reader, but he gets anxious and one day, it just happens. it feels right. Felix has that burning feeling that he needs to ask now else he'll fuck up his plan in the future by being so nervous. so, yeah, he just asks one day - barely even thinks about it! he just knows Reader is who he wants, so why plan the "perfect moment" when an opportunity organically presents itself?

now, Venetia can be a bridesmaid, but she's not MOH. again, depends on the reader, but i imagine Reader's sister or her own best friend should be MOH. Reader wants Ven involved in everything, but no, she's not gonna be the one standing next to Reader when she gets married. Ven helps decide bridesmaid dresses, works with Reader's sister and / or best friend to plan the bachelorette party, and is present for any conflict between Reader and Elspeth. she's sorta like a tie breaker because Felix is on Reader's side and Sir James is on Elspeth's. Ven is the one who helps keep Elspeth under control, the only one bold enough to stand up to her mother without fear of repercussions. she sees how Reader is struggling to both have the wedding of her dreams and respect for her MIL, so, Ven imposes herself to give Reader a break. to be the voice Reader lost.

and just because it's fun, YES, Duncan is def in attendance, handing the Cattons and Reader's family tissues during the emotional moments of the wedding. he eats two slices of cake. and for the fuck of it, you bet your ass Duncan lets loose a little and Cabbage Patches on the dance floor.

i think it's nice to imagine Felix being all cute and intimate, but personally, i think he's so far deep in his family's way of living to truly be humble. sure, Reader anchors him to reality, but he still lives this extravagant life so he doesn't know the definition of "humble". but that's why i said, it depends on your reader - but in my opinion, Felix is a little too spoilt to have the forethought to marry privately. or maybe he knows it's a fight not worth having with his parents, that no matter what, they're going to do what they want.

so maybe Felix is the one encouraging Reader to just "go with the flow" because resisting is futile. perhaps Reader comes around to the idea of a grand wedding because she knows she'd never have this sort of experience with anyone else; so, why not bask in it?

ah, i love these. they're so much fun! thank you for sending in, baby girl! all my love 🖤

#felix catton #felix catton headcanon #felix catton headcanons #felix catton x reader #felix catton x fem! reader #felix catton x y/n #felix catton x you #felix catton imagine #felix catton fluff #fix it felix

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wzrd-wheezes · 1 year

Text

Moony's Song - Songwriter!Remus x Reader

AN - I have never spent so long writing a fic as I have this one. It's by far one of my favourite things that I have ever created and I hope that you guys like it as much as I do. This is a repost as I originally posted this fic a few weeks ago but it wasn't showing up in any of the tags so hopefully this time it works haha.

A really big thank you to @thepunisherfrankcastle for this incredible idea - i truly loved writing it.

Songwriter!Remus x Reader - Fluff

6.2k words.

Remus was slouched over on the sofa in the grotty basement of the house that he shared with his best friends. His elbows were resting on his knees as he peered down at the pad of paper that was clutched between his fingers. The page was covered in Sirius’s messy scrawl and the corner of Remus’s mouths tugged upwards as he read.

“’As black as a raven’s wing?’” Remus read, trying to supress a laugh, “I think you should maybe leave the songwriting to me, Pads.” Sirius rolled his eyes in response, walking over to Remus and snatching the paper from his hands.

“Let’s see what you’ve written, then.” He jokingly demanded, cocking a brow at him.

Remus reached down into the rucksack that lay by his feet. He fished around inside and pulled out a leatherbound notebook. The cover was battered, the corners were bent and he thumbed through it trying to find the most recent page. He handed it to Sirius and stared down at his hands as the other boy read the lyrics he’d written. His fingers were speckled with ink, the result of a whirlwind of thoughts that had taken over his brain.

“I don’t know why you don’t just join the band.” Sirius sighed, flopping down next to him on the sofa. He had handed the notebook to James who was now reading over it, idly twizzling a drumstick between his fingers as he did so.

“Because,” he started “I’m not musical like you two are.”

“Oh, come on, Moony. We both know you play the guitar better than Sirius.” James laughed.

“Yeah, well, that’s not hard, is it?” Remus grinned cheekily. Sirius swatted him on the back of the head.

“I’m being serious.” Sirius, who had never been serious a day in his life, said. Remus just rolled his eyes at him.

“It’s just not for me. Y’know, getting on stage in front of loads of people, being in the spotlight.” Remus grimaced. He took out a pack of cigarettes from his pocket and put one in his mouth.

“S’ a great way to meet girls though.” Sirius winked at him, reaching into his own pocket to take out a lighter and lighting the Remus’s cigarette for him.

“And the parties are pretty good.” James added.

“I don’t care about girls and the parties. I just like writing the music,” he shrugged, leaning back on the sofa, his head resting against the back of it as he stared up at the ceiling.

James, who was sat at his drumkit opposite them, shot a mischievous look at Sirius, who grinned back at him.

“The girls and the parties are the best part about being in a band!” Sirius pressed, taking the cigarette from between Remus’s lips and putting it between his own.

“You’re vile, you know that, right?” Remus smacked him on the back of the head, just like Sirius did to him earlier. Sirius barked out a laugh, unbothered.

“C’mon, mate, just one party.” James suggested, “I’m sure you’ll enjoy it. It’ll do you good to get out of your comfort zone.”

Y/N laid across the sofa in the flat that she shared with her best friend. She had her legs curled up and her body leaning against the plush arm as her eyes fluttered shut. Her headphones sat snugly over her ears, the music she was playing humming softly. She would often sit like this, just absorbing the music, really appreciating every lyric as it washed over her.

She was distracted from her listening when her best friend burst through the door. Lily was stood in front of her, ginger hair cascading across her shoulders and her eyes shining wildly.

“Woah. Have you just won the lottery or something?” Y/N asked, removing her headphones and resting them around her neck, “What’s got you all excited?”

“It’s pretty much just as good as.” she grinned, taking a seat next to her on the sofa. She tucked her knees up and rested her chin on them as she spoke, “I think I’ve just got us invited to the party of the century.”

“What are you talking about, Lils?”

“So, you know that guy I work with that has a friend that’s in a band?” Lily explained, “Well, they’re having a big party tomorrow night and he asked if me and you wanted to come.”

“No way!” Y/N said, “That’s so cool!”

“Babe. There’s more...” Lily paused for dramatic effect, “the band is The Marauders.”

Y/N’s jaw dropped and her eyes widened, she sat up a bit straighter. The Marauders were a band that the two had listened to for a while now, after stumbling across one of their singles as they browsed a record shop one day.

“You’re joking. You have a friend who knows the Marauders and you’ve only just found out?”

Lily nodded quickly, her lips pulled into a huge smile.

“So, we’re going then, yeah?”

Lily glanced down at the piece of paper that her coworker had scribbled the address of the party on as she looked out the window of the taxi. The night was cool and the girls wrapped their jackets a bit tighter around themselves as they got out of the car. The house that they had arrived at was already bustling with people, the party well underway as Lily had insisted that they turned up fashionably late. People were spilling out onto the street and sprawling across the front lawn that was littered with empty cans and bottles.

As the pair wandered inside, music pumped from large speakers and the air was tinged with cigarette smoke. Lily grabbed on to the hand of her best friend and guided her through the house into the kitchen.

“There must be something to drink in here,” she muttered as her eyes roamed over the room.

“Lil, we can’t just come to a party and drink other people's beer!” Y/N laughed. Lily just giggled and rolled her eyes, turning her attention to the fridge. She swung the door open and rummaged around for a moment before spinning back around holding two beers victoriously in her hands.

“Just help yourself to those, it’s fine!” a voice spoke out from behind them.

Both girls' heads snapped round, caught red handed, beer bottles halfway to their lips. The voice belonged to a man who was stood with arms folded across his chest and a cigarette dangling from his lips. His dark hair just brushed his shoulders, falling down in messy waves and his glinted as he put to fingers up to his lips to remove his cigarette.

“You’re-” Y/N stood there in shock as she registered who the man was.

“Yep.” he said, cutting her off “And those are my beers you’re drinking.”

“Oh, come on-” Lily tried to argue with him but she was cut off when another man entered the room and interjected.

“Stop being a dick, Sirius.” the man walked in and nudged Sirius playfully as he walked past, “Help yourself to what you want, girls.”

He leaned back against the kitchen counter, strong arms bracing himself as he reached for another beer. Like his friend, he also had dark hair, but his fell messily in curls across his forehead. He was larger in build, his toned stomach and arms on show in the cut off t-shirt he was wearing. He took a swig of his beer as his eyes looked over the two girls stood in front of him.

“I’m James, by the way.” he flashed them a smile, “Ignore Sirius, he can be a proper diva sometimes,”

“I was only joking.” Sirius huffed, taking a drag of his cigarette.

“I’m Lily.” she introduced herself, “and this is Y/N.” she gestured to her friend.

“Nice to meet you,” Y/N smiled, “Sorry about the beers.”

“Don’t mention it. It’d be a pretty shit party if we didn’t let people have a drink.” James laughed, his eyes lingering on Lily.

“Help yourself to the stuff in the fridge,” Sirius said, apologetic smile on his face as he looked at James out of the corner of his eye. His vision quickly snapped to a girl that walked past the doorway and he hastily excused himself before walking over to her and wrapping an arm around her waist.

“He’s a menace, that bloke.” James chuckled, rolling his eyes at Sirius, who now had the girl tangled in his arms.

“S’not surprising, that’s the joy of being in a band, right?” Lily laughed. She looked at Y/N out the corner of her eye, sensing the fact that she was a bit awestruck. Y/N took a large gulp of her beer, hoping that it would calm her nerves. Lily was always so cool and collected in situations like this.

“I suppose you’re right,” he nodded, his fingers tapping against the bottle in his hand, “D’you girls wanna come with me and we’ll find a seat somewhere?”

They agreed, and Lily and Y/N shot an excited look at each other as they followed James in to the living room.

“Oh my god!” Lily mouthed.

“I know!” Y/N whispered back.

The living room was a whole lot busier than the kitchen, people were draped across sofas, leaning against the walls, smoking, drinking, chatting. The music blared out and the atmosphere was electric. James kicked a couple of people off one of the sofas and settled down on it, gesturing for Y/N and Lily to join him. They chatted for a while, Y/N explaining that her and Lily were a fan of his band and how they had discovered them. James beamed at them as they spoke, leaning forward intently to what they had to say. Y/N grinned at her best friend, noticing that James seemed to be staring a whole lot at the red-haired girl.

“I’m gonna go get another beer,” Y/N excused herself, winking at Lily over her shoulder as she left her alone with James.

She wandered back into the kitchen. It was surprisingly clean to say it belonged to a group of boys in a band. The overhead light had been turned off and the kitchen was only illuminated by the light spilling in from the hallway. Y/N jumped as someone opened the fridge, the light further brightening the kitchen.

“Shit.” she said, startled, “I didn’t realise there was anyone in here.”

The person at the fridge turned around and smiled, a bottle in his hand.

“Sorry,” he smiled smally, “Was trying to escape the crowds a bit. Beer?”

He held an open bottle out to her, and she took it, leaning against the counter.

“Thanks.” she smiled, “Not a big fan of parties, then?”

The man shook his head, hoisting himself up onto the counter on the opposite side of the kitchen. His long legs hung over the edge, his boot-clad feet a few inches from skimming the floor. He ran a hand through his hair, messily fluffing it up. His features were sharp in the low light of the kitchen, and he nibbled on his lip awkwardly.

“S’not really my thing, to be honest.” he admitted, “My friends wanted me to come so...”

“I’m here with my friend too, but she’s sat in there talking to James, so I thought I’d leave them too it.”

Remus smiled understandingly, he fiddled with the cap of his bottle in his fingers, turning it over and over in his hand.

“That’s why most girls come to these things, I think.” He laughed a little bit, “You haven’t fallen for their charm then, no?”

“Nah. Don’t get me wrong I absolutely love their music, I mean their lyrics-”

“Their lyrics?” Remus interrupted, the bottle cap dropping to the floor with a quiet clatter.

“Yeah? I’m assuming you listen to them, right?” Y/N answered, “Their lyrics are like, another level. You know that one line that’s like ‘I’d forgotten what it felt like to be alone.’”

“’But now I know how it feels to wish I never came home.’” Remus continued, “Yeah, I know it.”

“Something about that line, it just…I know it’s not the most crazy thing in the world but it just sounds like it really means something to them.” she explained, her eyes lighting up in excitement, “I just genuinely really love their music.”

Remus smiled, silently thanking God for the room being gloomy so that she couldn’t see the blush that had made its way onto his cheeks. Not many people knew that Remus wrote the songs for his friends' band, and he wanted to keep it that way. He hated being in the spotlight and he never ever wanted that to change. Though, something about the way that Y/N was talking about their lyrics, his lyrics, made him want to shout it from the rooftops. He smiled at the way her eyes seemed to be glowing and how she would gesture wildly with her hands when she made references to the songs that he’d written.

It felt like they had been talking for hours, holed away in the kitchen drinking bottle after bottle of beer. They exchanged bands that they liked, their favourite songs, recommended each other albums. Remus had never hit it off with someone like this before, it felt nice to have such a meaningful conversation. Their discussion only came to a halt when three familiar faces entered the room.

“Well, well, well, what do we have here then?” Sirius smirked, leaning against the doorway.

“We wondered where you’d gotten to, Moony.” James said, his arm wrapped around Lily’s shoulder.

“Didn’t want to intrude on you two,” Y/N laughed, gesturing to Lily and James, “You looked all cosy so I came in to get another beer and I met – wait, I actually didn’t get your name?” Her eyes snapped to Remus who had hopped down from the kitchen counter at his friends’ arrival.

“Oh, that’s Remus he’s our s-” Sirius started.

“Friend!” Remus quickly interrupted, “and housemate.”

Sirius and James exchanged a quick glance at each other, the curly haired boy jabbing his bandmate in the ribs.

“Right.” Sirius nodded, “Our friend. Best friend even.”

“I’m gonna go find the bathroom, want to come with?” Lily asked, looking at her best friend and cocking her head towards the door. Y/N agreed, and the two girls pushed their way upstairs into one of the bathrooms.

Locking the door behind them, Lily leaned against it, her face absolutely beaming.

“Oh my God.” she said, putting her hands up to her face excitedly.

“I know.” Y/N smiled, “Remus seems so nice, we seem to have really hit it off, you know.”

“Same with James and I.” Lily smiled, going over to the mirror and looking at her reflection, “He’s really hot.”

“Agreed. I didn’t realise that Remus was friends with them. Weird because all we’ve really talked about is music and he never mentioned it.”

“James said he was quite shy, he said he never usually comes to their parties and that him and Sirius had to convince him to come tonight. From the way he was looking at you, I bet he’s pretty glad that he did.” Lily looked at her friend excitedly in the mirror. She reached into her bag and pulled out her lipstick, reapplying it and quickly fixing her hair.

The morning after the party, the three boys were stood in the kitchen, James was holding open a bin bag and Remus was throwing away the empty bottles and cups that were strewn over the sides. Sirius, being his usual self, was being absolutely no help and was sat on the counter with a cigarette balanced between his lips and a cup of coffee in hand.

“Did you get her number then?” Sirius grinned looking at James.

“Lily? Yeah, I did.” James smiled, his mop of curls falling messily into his eyes, “she’s great, I don’t think I’ve ever met a girl like her, you know?” Sirius rolled his eyes playfully in response and pretended to gag.

“You’re so wet sometimes, Jamie.” he said, “What about you, Moony? You spent half the night sat in here with her friend.”

Remus frowned and shook his head, throwing yet another empty bottle into the bag.

“Nah. She didn’t give it me and I was too nervous to ask.”

“Not to worry, mate.” James clapped him on the back, “We’re seeing them next week anyway. I said to Lily that we’ll all go out for a drink on Friday.”

“You did? Why?”

“’Cause Lily is sweet and I want to get to know her better, and you were practically drooling over Y/N.”

“I wasn’t drooling.” Remus protested.

“Rem, you literally went straight to your room after they left and started writing a song about her.” Sirius laughed and stubbed his cigarette out in the ashtray by his side.

Although it was true, Remus couldn’t help the blush that spread across his cheeks. He was absolutely infatuated by Y/N. He’d never had a girl that was interested in him before. On the odd occasion that he did attend one of the parties that his friends hosted, no girls would ever make the effort with him like Y/N did, they usually just flocked towards Sirius and James, and he was just seen as their friend and housemate. He often wondered if he would be treated differently if people knew that it was him that wrote a lot of the songs that the band played, that it was his mind behind the lyrics that his friends sang. The lyrics that Y/N loved.

Remus felt a pang in his stomach as he thought about it. About how Y/N loved the lyrics but had no idea that it was him that wrote them. He hated how she didn’t know that it was his thoughts that spilled onto the pages of music, that rolled off her tongue like honey when she quoted them to him. He was so desperate for her to know that it was all him and he felt so stupid that he didn’t just tell her that.

Friday came and Remus was nervous as the three of them walked into the pub. He wiped his clammy palms on his trousers as they waited at the bar for their drinks. He didn’t know why he felt so anxious about seeing Y/N again when they had got on so well at the party.

The three of them settled on a booth table in the back of the pub, all of them cramming into one side so that the girls could sit opposite them when they arrived. Remus was leaning forward, his chin rested on his hand as he started intently at the bubbles that fizzed in his pint. His eyes snapped up when he saw Y/N arrive, sliding into the booth and sitting directly opposite from him.

“Hey!” she smiled brightly, “Nice to re-meet you all again now we’re all slightly more sober.”

“Not for much longer, probably,” James chuckled, picking up his pint glass and clinking it against Y/N and Lily’s.

“Sirius has only just about sobered up from the party.” Remus quipped, smirking at the dark-haired boy. Y/N laughed at his joke, much to Sirius’s annoyance.

“He comes to one party and now he’s giving it the big one.” Sirius rolled his eyes, smiling slightly. Remus’s hand that wasn’t holding his drink was resting on his lap, his fingers tapping away nervously as he tried to think of something to say. Y/N looked at Remus from across the table and smiled at him.

“I’ve only just gotten over my hangover to be honest. I feel like I singlehandedly drank all of the beer that was in your fridge.” Y/N laughed.

“I feel like I gave you a solid hand, to be honest.” Remus grinned.

“Yeah, I reckon I’ve found my new drinking partner. Sorry, Lil.” Y/N winked at her best friend. “Speaking of beer, I’m going to go grab one, d’you guys want anything?”

“Same again, please.” Sirius smiled, fishing into his pocket for a note and handing it to her, “Rem, you’re sat on the end, go help, will you?”

As Remus stood up to go to the bar, Y/N was already halfway there. Sirius shot a wink at him as he departed. Y/N leaned confidently against the bar as she ordered, resting her hand against her chin as she made small talk with the barman. Remus slid in next to her, his hip bumping against hers.

“It’s nice to see you again.” Y/N smiled, looking up at him.

“Yeah, you too. I’m glad you and Lily came, James seems really keen on her.”

“Oh, good because she genuinely hasn’t stopped speaking about him since they met.

“Yeah, he has that effect on girls.” Remus chuckled, reaching into his pocket for his pack of cigarettes and fiddling with the box as they waited for their drinks.

“I have something for you, actually.” Y/N took a piece of paper out of her pocket and handed it to him, her fingers brushing against his, lingering for a second before letting go. Remus unfolded it and his eyes darted across the page, quickly skimming over the words.

“It’s a list of all the albums I recommended to you at the party. I figured that you might have forgotten some with how drunk we were.” she explained, “Also, I hope you don’t mind but I wrote my number on their as well because I’m expecting you to call me and tell me your thoughts on each one.”

His cheeks turned pink and he quickly slipped the paper into his pocket.

“I did the same for you!” Remus exclaimed, pulling his own scrap of paper from his pocket and handing it to her, “There were a few albums I forgot to tell you about and I really think you’ll like them.”

Y/N’s mouth opened in shock, and she pulled Remus in for a clumsy hug. Over her shoulder, he saw James and Sirius grinning and giving him a thumbs up and Lily who had made a heart shape with her hands.

“She gave you her number?” Sirius asked excitedly as soon as they got home from the pub, “Well in, Moony.”

“You guys looked pretty cosy up at the bar as well.” James added. Remus shrugged, picking up his notebook that was laying on the table.

“I think you should just call her and ask her out on a date.” Sirius said bluntly, “What have you got to lose? What’s the worst that could happen?”

“My dignity? Being rejected by the potential girl of my dreams?” Remus said dramatically, scribbling something down, the pen scratching against the paper.

“What are you going to do then? Just write songs about her in the hopes that she one day hears them? C’mon, Moony!” Sirius exclaimed.

It was around a week later when Remus finally plucked up the courage to give Y/N a call – after much nagging from his two best friends. He paced his room nervously as the phone rang and rang and rang. His heart was pounding in his chest and he debated just hanging up.

“Hello?” Lily’s voice answered.

“Oh, er, hi Lily. It’s Remus, I was just wondering if-”

“Y/N!” Lily shouted cutting him off, “dream boy is on the phone.”

Remus blushed as he heard her say that. He heard a slap on the other side of the phone and Y/N’s voice hissing at her friend to shut up. Lily’s laugh rang out in the background.

“Sorry about that,” Y/N laughed nervously.

“It’s fine. Don’t worry,” Remus chuckled, “did you just hit her?”

“Yeah I did. She’s my best friend, I get full rights to hit her whenever she tries to embarrass me.”

“I didn’t know that. I’ll keep that in mind next time James and Sirius try to wind me up.”

“It’s a solid loophole.” Y/N said matter-of-factly, “So, why’d you call?”

“You gave me your number, that’s how it works isn’t it?” Remus joked, his shoulders starting to relax a little. He perched on the edge of his bed, twizzling the phone cord around his fingers, “I listened to the albums you recommended. I didn’t think I’d meet anyone with a music taste that’s nearly as good as mine.”

“Nearly as good?” She echoed, pretending to be offended, “are you questioning my music taste now?”

“I mean, yours is good. I’m just not sure it’s quite as good as mine.” Remus said, smirk evident in his voice, “that being said, I’m not done with you yet.”

Y/N laughed and Remus smiled to himself. He loved when he made her laugh. Girls never usually found him funny when he was with James and Sirius. James had a sort of silly charm about him that girls seemed to adore, and Sirius was viciously witty when he wanted to be. Remus's dry, sarcastic sense of humour had never really been a hit with girls, and it was refreshing for him to have someone that matched his energy.

They chatted for hours. Remus sprawled out over his bed, his records scattered around him as he pored over lyrics. They read snippets out to each other from their favourite albums, occasionally playing a song loud enough for the other to hear it on the other end of the phone. He imagined Y/N sitting in her room, cross legged on the floor, record player set out in front of her. He pictured her smiling, tapping her fingers along to the music she was playing, jotting down names of songs and lines of lyrics as he reeled them off to her.

Remus of course, was doing the same. His battered leather notebook resting in his lap, holding the phone between his ear and his shoulder as he scribbled down messily.

“It’s just... it sounds dumb but sometimes when I’m listening to certain songs, I relate to it so strongly it feels like it was written for me. Y’know, as if the artist had me in mind while writing it.” Y/N said.

“I know exactly what you mean.” Remus flicked back through the pages of his notebook, his eyes dancing over the lyrics and half-finished songs that he’d written about her. He frowned momentarily, an ache forming in his stomach when he realised that she might not ever hear the songs that he’d written for her. He barely knew the girl but the lyrics flowed so freely when he wrote about her. He wanted desperately for her to know exactly how he felt about her, exactly who he was. Remus’s mind started to run away with his thoughts, and for a moment, he lost himself in his fantasy. Imagining her listening to one of the songs, one of her songs, listening to the words he had written for her, singing along to the melody he had crafted while she was on his mind.

The pair’s phone calls became a nightly occurrence. They would take it in turns to ring each other, make polite small talk about their days and then spend hours upon hours chatting freely. Remus quickly became comfortable with her, his personality starting to shine through as his confidence grew.

Sirius and James started to notice this and began to invite Y/N to everything that they did, knowing that Remus would need a bit of extra encouragement before he actually asked her out on his own.

The five of them were currently sat in the boys’ basement. James and Lily snuggled up together on one sofa, Y/N, Remus and Sirius on another. This had become a regular occurrence since James and Lily had become a bit of an item, and how the rest of the group were trying to get Y/N and Remus together.

“Chuck my pack of cigs, James.” Sirius asked, gesturing to the box that lay beside the curly haired boy.

“S’empty, Pads.” James replied, not even bothering to check, “Rem took the last one.”

Sirius’ head snapped round to look at Remus, his mouth open in shock. He got up and grabbed the empty packet from the sofa and chucked it at Remus.

“You cheeky little prick,” an amused smile played on his lips “You know the rules. You finish ‘em, you buy ‘em.”.

“I’ll go.” Y/N said, standing up. “I can grab some snacks and some beers and stuff while I’m there. Anyone fancy coming with?”

Y/N glanced at Remus quickly, his gaze was fixed on cigarette packet that Sirius threw at him, he fiddled with it idly, flicking it open and shut repeatedly. Her eyes darted around the room before landing on Lily who quickly got to her feet and agreed to go with her.

“You’re so fucking thick, Moony.” Sirius said after the two girls had left.

“What?”

“She was making a move, idiot.” James laughed, sitting up straight, “she wanted you to go with her.”

“How’d you come to that conclusion then?”

“Let me re-enact it for you.” Sirius moved to stand in front of Remus, “Oh, I wonder if anyone would like to come to the shop with me,” Sirius acted dramatically, pretending to stare lovingly at Remus.

“Give over, Pads.” Remus sighed, “She’s not interested in me like that.”

“You’re joking, right?” James chuckled, “Have you actually lost your mind? Why do you think she keeps coming over with Lily?”

“Girls like that just aren’t interested in me, James.” Remus said, “She’ll just be here because of Lily.” He crushed the empty cigarette packet in his hands as he spoke.

“Remus. I’m speaking to you as your best friend-.”

“Oi!” Sirius protested.

“Sorry! Remus. I’m speaking to you as one of your best friends.” James corrected himself, rolling his eyes at Sirius. “You two speak to each other on the phone every single night. For hours.”

“She laughs at all your stupid jokes.” Sirius continued. “The last ten times her and Lily have been around here she can barely take her eyes off of you.”

“For the love of God, please just tell her that you like her.” James insisted.

That was how, in the twenty minutes that the girls had left to go to the shop, the boys had devised a plan on how Remus was going to tell Y/N about how he felt.

“Operation ‘Get Moony His Dream Girl’ is a go!” James said as he heard the front door open as Y/N and Lily arrived back at the house.

If there was one thing about James and Sirius, it was if there was an opportunity to meddle in their best friend’s love life, then you better believe they were going to meddle. That was how Y/N and Lily had ended up with tickets to the bands next concert.

“So, what’s the plan then?” Sirius asked, as he plucked at the strings of his guitar.

“We learn Moony’s song. We play it at the gig and hopefully Y/N realises that it’s about her and that he’s absolutely besotted with her.” James explained.

“He’ll hate that idea. There’s no way that he’ll agree to let us do it.”

“Yeah, that’s why we’re not going to tell him, Pads.”

“You’re such a little rascal sometimes. I love it.” Sirius grinned.

It was easy for the pair to practice the song without Remus knowing. They would sneak down to the basement while he was on the phone to Y/N and play it over and over until it was perfect.

“It’s hard work being match-makers, isn’t it?” Sirius said, grabbing some beers from the fridge and popping the tops off. He handed one to James who took a large gulp as he slumped against his drumkit.

“It’ll all be worth it.” He grinned, clinking his beer against Sirius’s.

James was right, Remus was none the wiser. He had absolutely no idea what the bands setlist was, he just put it down to the pair being extremely unorganised and indecisive. He didn’t even know that the girls were coming until James accidentally let it slip while they were sound checking.

“I spoke to Y/N on the phone last night and she didn’t mention that they were coming.” Remus frowned. He was sat on the edge of the stage, his legs hanging over the edge while his friends prepared their equipment for the concert.

“Maybe she just wanted to surprise you.” Sirius shrugged, his fingers skimming over the strings of his guitar as he tuned it.

“As a matter of fact, you didn’t mention that they were coming!” Remus accused, glaring at them both.

“Surprise?” James said cheekily.

While the concert was in progress, Remus usually watched from the side of the stage, not being one for big crowds of people. He leaned against the wall, looking out at his two friends whose stage presence seemed almost effortless. Sirius looked so at ease with a microphone at his lips and a guitar hanging at his hips. He spoke to the crowd easily, introducing song after song, dropping in the odd joke here and there. James was the same, microphone set up next to his drum kit so that he could sing along and interact with Sirius. His body sheened with sweat, and he winked at Remus as he locked eyes with him.

James jutted his head towards the crowd and Remus’s eyes followed in the direction of the front row. His eyes scanned across the barrier quickly before his gaze settled on two familiar faces. Y/N and Lily were stood front and centre, huge grins plastered on their faces. Y/N was leaning against the metal railing, her eyes fixated on the band and her lips moving in sync with the music. Remus thought that he’d never seen someone look so pretty. The way her eyes glittered with the reflection of the stage lights, the way her body swayed in time with the music. He was broken from his trance when he heard James and Sirius start speaking, his eyes snapping back to them.

“This is our last song and we’ve got a bit of a treat for you tonight, so you should all count yourselves lucky.” Sirius smirked, looking out across the sea of people.

“This is the first time we’ve played this song live. In fact, it’s the first time any of you will have heard this song.” James grinned, raking a hand through his damp curls.

Remus’s brow furrowed. He wasn’t aware that the two had written any new songs, let alone had them polished and practiced enough ready to perform live. He shot a quizzical look at his friends, who just smiled mischievously back at him.

His stomach dropped as he heard the first few notes that Sirius played, he thought he was going to throw up when the lyrics fell from his lips. They were playing his song. Y/N’s song.

He frantically looked over at Y/N, searching her face for any indication that she knew that the song was about her. He couldn’t see properly now the lights had dimmed and his heart was pounding in his chest as the crowd broke out into applause as Sirius and James walked off stage.

“James! Sirius!” he exclaimed, as the pair walked past him to set their equipment down.

“We only answer to ‘Cupid’ now.” Sirius said smugly, strapping his guitar back into his case.

“You can thank us properly later, Moony, yeah?” James said, flashing him another wink, “I’ve got to and find Lily. C’mon, Pads.”

Remus didn’t even have time to protest as he watched his friends disappear in the direction of the bar. He went to race after them, but he was stopped in his tracks as someone latched on to his arm.

“Was it about me?” Y/N’s voice spoke. Remus turned around slowly, a sinking feeling present in his stomach.

“W-what?” Remus stammered

“That song. Was it about me?” Y/N persisted. She was stood right in front of him now, barely inches away from him. Her eyes were twinkling but she had her bottom lip pulled between her teeth.

“I - I don’t - I didn’t know they were-”

Remus’s flustering was cut short by Y/N smashing her lips against his. He gasped as her soft lips enveloped his own, heart racing. He steadied his shaky hands by resting them on her hips.

“I didn’t know you wrote the songs.” Y/N breathed, finally pulling away. Remus nodded, at a loss for words. A blush had made itself at home on his cheeks and he knew that it wasn’t going to shift anytime soon.

“I didn’t know you liked me like that.” Remus choked out finally. Y/N’s eyebrows shot up and she let out a laugh.

“Here I was thinking that I was making it obvious.” she laughed, “Why didn’t you tell me that you were their songwriter? We literally spent hours talking about their lyrics, your lyrics!”

“Because I’m an idiot apparently.” Remus smiled, looking at her fondly, “I didn’t know how to say it. I don’t like the spotlight and the attention like the others do. Not many people know.”

“I’m glad I know now.”

“Me too.” He caught her lips with his again, for longer this time. Remus felt the tension leave his body as he melted into her. His hands on her waist and her arms around his neck. A sigh of relief escaped his lips as it dawned on him that she finally knew who he was.

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