#thinking he’s going to pick up on subtext and realise your smiles are not genuine and that you’re being sarcastic with him

[fingertipsmp3]

I will never understand people who post tiktoks of them being mansplained to in the gym or someplace and they’re just nodding and smiling at the guy or being civil with him.. I’d end up being filmed by some bystander absolutely shrieking my head off as soon as the guy tells me I need to lose 50 pounds or that I’m doing the wrong workout

[firesign23]

Trope mash up: detective au + poorly timed confession

Okay, so, a few notes first. I got this mash-up (detective AU + poorly timed confession) and it so perfectly fit my plans for Cocks and Robbers (not its real title, I promise) that I was like “Damn.” So then I decided to write a version of a scene that will eventually be part of a longer fic. In theory. The basic premise of which is FBI-agent-equivalent Jaime has struck up an unlikely friendship with Detective Tarth of the King’s Landing PD after they worked the kidnapping of the Stark girls together three years previously. Simmering attraction, blahblah, Jaime gets caught in a bank robbery/hostage situation, manages to notify Brienne’s captain/his close friend as it started, blahblah, y’all know this trope.

Trope mash up: detective au + poorly timed confession

(Below the cut for length)

Jaime looks around the office, assessing each of his fellow hostages. The group has formed a near-circle, though none have been brave or foolish enough to put their backs to the door where one of the robbers stands sentinel. The man is watching the corridor, not the hostages, his fingers tapping the barrel of his rifle in a strange staccato. Amateur, then. Or possibly just cocky.

Of the hostages, six of them are some degree of hysterical, ranging from slightly upset (one of the tellers) to about-to-lose-their-shit-and-get-someone-shot-in-the-process (the bank president); the only one who isn’t is the bank security guard, a crude man who is eyeing Jaime with the same sort of assessing gaze. Blackwater, says his nametag. Jaime hopes like fuck he’s uninterested in getting shot--he’s the closest thing Jaime has to an ally at the moment.

Shuffling back slightly so his back is against the heavy oak desk, he manages to slip his phone from his sock, where he’d stuffed it as the robbery began. He doesn’t want this noticed, hopes like hell none of the others see it and ask questions. The quickest glance tells him his text chain with Addam is still on-screen--he mutes the output and hits the call button, then shoves the phone beneath the edge of the desk. It should be good enough to pick up the conversation in the room, give the police outside some idea of what’s going on, at least in this room.

He runs a hand over his face, eyes roving around the room once more. He's trained for this possibility, it’s part of the job, but he never expected to have to use it. Not for what was supposed to be a routine trip to the bank. He hadn’t even stopped for coffee this morning. He just hopes it’s enough, hopes he can keep order before someone fucks up and gets hurt, or--experience warns him--gets someone else hurt.

*

Brienne isn’t entirely sure how long they have been sitting in the surveillance van, waiting for Ops to get a video feed inside the bank. Too fucking long, by any reckoning.

She’s contemplating whether she can just walk into the damn building and fuck the consequences when Addam’s phone rings.

“It’s Jaime,” he says, and for a moment Brienne thinks that maybe he’s inside but not--

Addam answers, muting the mic and putting it on speaker in one swift movement, hooking it up to the computers in the van, and Jaime’s voice comes through. She’s never been so glad for his expensive taste in technology--he’s distant, as if he’s hidden the phone nearby, but the sound is clear.

“Hey,” Jaime says, interrupting low murmurs—the other hostages. “If we’re going to be stuck in Edd’s office, why don’t we go around, tell everyone our names? We might as well know who we’re stuck here with. The guy at the door isn’t going to mind.”

Edd. Bank president. Brienne writes it down, shoves it at one of the officers in the van with them. It should help, knowing where the hostages are being held. There’s a frisson of… not excitement, this is too dangerous to be excited about, but it’s something. Jaime leads the conversation, the voices in varying degrees of clarity, but he is always clear, his words layered in subtext that Brienne and Addam are able to parse. There are seven hostages in addition to Jaime, a single man guarding the door to the office where they are being held. Jaime manages to convey that there were at least three more, all armed, and he has no idea where any of them are. Nobody is injured. Yet. It’s something.

The conversation dies away, but even through the phone Brienne can tell that people are getting restless, panicked. Panicked people are dangerous. They make stupid decisions and people get hurt. Jaime must notice too, because he speaks again, in that same level, soothing tone. Panicked people are dangerous, but they can be controlled.

“Listen,” he says. “Every single one of us has a reason to walk out that door safely. Let’s focus on that, okay? Jeyne, what about you? What is waiting for you?”

Brienne listens as the group takes turns talking about the thing that means the most to them, the thing worth living for. Friends. Family. One of the women mentions that she has a cross-stitch she’s never found the time to finish. Another talks of the holiday she has booked, her first one since her husband passed away the year before. Jaime keeps them talking, engaged, distracted. Brienne tries to pick up hints of the situation inside the bank, keep her mind on the task at hand, but there is an aching humanness in the conversation that sets a strange lump in her breast.

“What about you, Jaime?”

It’s one of the women that asks. He’s avoided talking about himself up til now.

“I have a cat,” he says, a familiar gentle fondness in his voice. It’s a good line. True, but not revealing. “Giant grey tom called Honor. I rescued him in the Vale last winter. Well, I didn’t. I was with a friend--”

“You fucking her? This friend of yours.” It’s one of the men. Bronn, she thinks, the security guard. She doesn’t even want to imagine why his mind went there, but it keeps the conversation moving. Someone titters, a nervous laugh but a laugh all the same.

“I never said it was a woman,” Jaime replies dryly.

“It’s always a woman,” says the man. “That’s a no, then. You wanna fuck her?”

This time, Jaime ignores the comment entirely. “We had to head back early, before a snowstorm hit, and it was dark and late and fucking freezing, and she insi--”

“Told you it was a woman.”

“--insisted on checking the car before we moved. Said animals would sleep anywhere when it was that cold. Of course, she was right. She found this scrawny little kitten tucked around the engine and…”

Brienne knows the way he smiles at this part of the story, the unaffected little shrug he gives as if to say what else could we do? One of the women laughs genuinely, despite the circumstances. Jaime has that effect on people.

“The friend can’t have pets at her place, so he came home with me. He’s mouthy and stubborn, so I tried to name him after… well, she didn’t like that. And Meticulous Pain In My Ass was too unwieldy, so Honor it was.”

There’s a softness in his voice by the end, an affection that she knows is about more than the most spoiled feline in King’s Landing.

“Sounds like you have more than the cat waiting for you,” says one of the women, startling Brienne. “She must be very lucky.”

She expects him to object, or play it off, but Jaime is simply silent for a long moment. “She’s extraordinary,” he finally says. There is a raw honesty that she rarely associates with him in his tone. “She doesn’t know that I... She should be told.”

And she knows, objectively, that he is talking about her. She’d held that little kitten halfway to King’s Landing before they’d found a place to stop and buy supplies, it’s not like she can forget that. She can even, in that distant part of her that is not entirely focused on the job, acknowledge the implications of what he is saying. She can’t deal with them, but she can acknowledge them. It isn’t until Addam looks at her though, far too much sympathy in his eyes to be coming from her captain, that she realises.

Jaime doesn’t know she is here. His words are meant for Addam, not for her. A message to pass on, if the worst happens. He doesn’t… however calm his voice, however clever his communication, he doesn’t think he’ll be walking out of that bank alive.

And his last-- no.

“Take five, Tarth,” orders Addam, brisk but not unkind. “It’s your turn to grab the coffees.”

She doesn’t want to go, doesn’t want to risk missing… She doesn’t want to go, but she can’t stay either, can’t sit in this cramped little van listening to his voice knowing it might be the last time she hears it.

Not when he’s just admitted he loves her.

Fanfiction Trope MASH-UP

[bave-de-crapaud]

Forbidden

PART FOUR - FINAL PART

Sirius x reader Post-azkaban Sirius Lives Word count: 7900+

Warnings: swearing, smut, 18+ NSFW Disclaimer: all characters are assumed 18+

A/N: WOWEE! Apologies if you were expecting a ‘quick’ read. I loved writing this and workplace romances gahhh! as always feedback is most welcome. I hope you enjoy my loves. xx

A workplace romance cannot possibly go awry, can it?

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

The next few weeks followed a similar pattern for you and Sirius. You both acted polite and professionally towards each other at work, saving all your pent up frustration for the evenings.  

It was glorious. Sirius was not as disciplined as you at keeping his hands to himself. He was often stealing kisses behind closed doors, letting his fingers brush across your arms, waist, arse, whatever he could reach as he passed you in the corridor even circling your thighs with his thumb under the table as you were seated next to each other in a meeting.  

You were fairly ‘harsh’ on him regarding these indiscretions, saving his punishments for the evening by teasing him relentlessly and holding out until you literally had him on his knees begging.  

You had a sneaking suspicion that he quietly enjoyed this due to the fact these ‘punishments’ did not stop him pushing boundaries at work.  

~~~  

Things at work weren’t all rosy however. Antheia was getting suspicious. You never had time after work anymore and she was closing in to the fact you must be dating someone. She was also complaining that Sirius always seemed to choose you to to come to first for questions, issues, PR briefs even though you had requested he do the opposite.  

You almost told her countless times, always faltering at the final moment. It had gone too far and nothing you thought could soften the blow that you were sleeping with Sirius.  

Truth be told you weren’t only sleeping with him, you had been on dinner dates, weekend activities and spent a few Saturday nights getting to know his friends.  

However hiding the truth from Antheia was eating you up. It all came to a head one evening at your flat. The guilt had turned to anger at yourself and with no one to take your anger out on you turned to the nearest person: Sirius.  

It was a stupid argument, the catalyst: his toothbrush. You found it in your bathroom and realised he must have brought it intending to leave it here.  

Filled with mixed emotions of longing and turmoil at what was essentially turning into a forbidden relationship you picked a fight, did your best at pushing him away suggesting things were moving too fast and you think you should slow down and see other people, Antheia being the subtext of that argument. It was an avalanche of irrationality. It started small but the more you got going the bigger your argument became until you couldn’t see what you were saying or what it meant – you were blind to your pain and just wanted it out.  

“What do you mean?” Sirius had sat up, stiff backed and turned white.  

“I don’t know!” You huffed out. “I mean you are still free to see other people, this can’t last whatever it is – we are just work colleagues after all.” You could see that had stung him.  

“Just work colleagues? If this is about the toothbrush I can remove it?”

“No it’s not about the stupid toothbrush!” You were in full flight now – tears streaming down your cheeks, he tried to reach you but you shook him off.  

“This fucking hurts Sirius.”

“What does, I don’t understand?”

“You, me, us! We are not supposed to be together!”

“What, why?

You were shaking with sobs now. You couldn’t tell him why - the karma of hiding this from your friend had finally turned up and it was a big one. Anguished and thinking of Antheia you yelled, “I wasn’t supposed to be with you, I have ruined everything!”

Blanching and swallowing  hard Sirius scrapped together the only conclusion that made sense to him, “Is there someone else?”

Technically there was: Antheia but not in the way he was thinking however you nodded sadly not registering that colossal mistake.  

“Right.” He said his lips tight.  

Waiting for a berating you deserved you closed your eyes. Instead Sirius got up walked out the front door slamming it shut. You heard the roar of his motorbike as he sped off into the night.  

~~~  

You didn’t sleep a lot over the next few weeks, and from the looks Antheia gave you across the board room table each morning, your heavy concealer was not doing anything to dampen the dark circles under your eyes.

It was killing you to stay away from him and stomach this hurt but part of you knew that this is what you deserved for getting into a forbidden situation.  

To dilute the pain you focused on work , turning up early after not enough sleep and staying late. Your boss was delighted but stopped by your desk more than necessary for ‘a quick chat’ you knew she had noticed your change in demeanour  and was checking up on you. This would have made you smile if you weren’t so numb.  

“Y/N?” She cautiously approached your desk. You looked up and saw her eyes, a maternal concern in them. “Not that I’m not grateful for all the long hours you are putting in but I seem to be missing some reports for the Auror office?”

“Oh.” You stumbled. “Those are with Antheia, I gave her the briefs I had in exchange for finishing the budgeting quarter.”

“Got it, but now that you have finished the budget could you please help Perenna with the Auror briefs? They have been piling up this week.”

Oh shit.  

“Yes sure, happy to.” You gave her an exhausted smile.  

You stood up. Ok. It’s ok you can do this. Yes you have probably, definitely, irreparably broken any kind of friendship, camaraderie, or rapport with Sirius but you had to put work first. You couldn’t very well get a new job, could you? Or could you? No! No, don’t be dramatic.  

You were brought out of your inner monologue by Antheia calling your name, “Y/N! Guess what?!”

“Shoot.” Feigning interest you turned to her.  

“I’m going out for drinks with Sirius tonight!” She looked ecstatic.  

Your stomach dropped to the floor and you were barely able to squeak out an “Oh…ok you are… that’s…great…”

She shook your shoulder too excited to see the blood draining from your face.  

“Yes I took the bull by the horns and asked him.”

“Oh you did? I thought you wanted to play it coy?” You needed to sit down soon.  

“I did but if I don’t go for it I will never have the chance, he’s cutting his contract short – just heard it from Moody this morning.”

Ok you really needed to sit down.  

“He’s what??” Feeling the room spin now.

Oh no no no no no was this because of you?

~Yes of course stupid! What else would it be?~  

Your conscience was really not holding back.

“Yeah Moody tried to talk him out of it, has asked him to take the weekend to think it over.” She gave you a soft smile and moved over to her desk.  

Before you could control it, your legs were walking you towards the elevator and your fingers were pushing the buttons directing the lift to Sirius’ floor.  

The Sirius you know wouldn’t give up so easily but then again, he did have a dramatic streak. You had only found that out during one of the weekends you met his friends and a tipsy Remus Lupin had told you what he was like when he lost any kind of card game. Wanting to see this for yourself, the next day you suggested a game of poker and boy the man could pout!

His office door was open and he was sitting at his desk reading a memo. You knocked and he looked up. His expression was unreadable – he didn’t invite you in let alone utter a greeting so you hesitantly entered, moving tentatively towards his desk.  

“I heard you are leaving.” Breaking the silence you stood before him willing him to speak.  

He nodded so quickly, if you had blinked you would have missed it.  

“I hope that is not because of me, Sirius?”

He said nothing and continued to stare at you.  

“Because if it is, I think I need to tell you something…” oh how to even begin. You stared at the floor and when he didn’t tell you to leave you took that as a sign to continue.  

“I am so sorry if I disappointed you…no I know I did – you don’t deserve it – I definitely do….and being with you had been the best months of my life. You really, you made me… no make me…” you collected yourself clearing your throat to stop your cracking voice and corrected yourself.

“You make me…” Argh, you closed your eyes hating the words for making you stumble.  

“But I shouldn’t have…it wasn’t right – not you!” You hastily added. “You were so right but it was killing me.”

“Because you are seeing someone else, I get it.” Sirius had finally spoken and his voice was soft and clear.  

“What? No!” You so desperately wanted him to understand but for all the wrong you had felt you had done to Antheia you couldn’t and wouldn’t break at least one promise to her by telling Sirius she likes him.  

“I’m not seeing anyone else.”

He looked genuinely very confused at this point. “But you said there was someone else?” Sirius’ voice was rushed now, he had stood up behind his desk and looked at you intently, eyebrows furrowed. God he was sexy when he was stern.  

“There is but not in the way you are thinking.” You ran your hands through your hair in frustration. Why? WHY! You should have told Antheia all along and save yourself, but mainly him, from this torture.  

“Y/N, I’m not here to play games, are you or are you not seeing someone?” Sirius had moved round his desk towards you.  

“No…but I” But you never finished your sentence. A piercing alarm went off signalling an emergency situation and all Aurors needed to move and be briefed.  

Sirius gave you one last look before shaking his head and saying: “I can’t, I’ve got to go.”

Holding back tears you nodded swallowing a sob.  

~~~  

“AH FUCK IT!” Antheia was fuming when you returned to your office.  

“Typical! I finally get a date with Sirius and suddenly a dragon gets loose in Shoreditch dragging all the Aurors away!” If you weren’t so upset you would have laughed at her enraged face.  

“A dragon? Surely that’s Magi-Creatures department?” You questioned.  

“It is but the Aurors have to go check for foul play.”

“How do you know this anyway?” You asked her.  

Strangely, Antheia blushed before answering. “Melvin told me, he just sent a message – he was there before dealing with a mishap – apparently that’s how the dragon got out.”

“What’s going on with you two?”

“Well nothing, we have caught up a few times and I guess we talk a lot…he’s nice.”

You looked at her, “then why do you want to go out with Sirius, sounds like you have a dreamboat already?”

She looked down at her desk and shrugged. “ I don’t know, I’ve lusted over Sirius since Christmas I guess, before I met Melvin, I didn’t really think about it.”

You sighed smiling at her, “Well, lucky you having two men to choose from.”

Antheia frowned at you. “Aren’t you dating someone?”

“No, no one.” You responded sadly.  

“You’ve been MIA of late, I thought you were seeing someone?”

You just smiled weakly at her,  turning back to your desk and said over your shoulder: “Don’t worry, you’ll still have your date – I’ll take care of any PR situation for today.” Godric, it was the least you could do you thought to yourself.  

~~~  

BANG! BANG! BANG!

“Mmfph.” You rolled over in your sleep.  

BANG! BANG! BANG!

It was getting louder. You rubbed your eyes and looked at the clock: 1230am

BANG! BANG! BANG!

Someone was knocking, none too gently, on your front door.

“I’m coming! I’m COMING ahhh.” You yelled as you fumbled around in the dark looking for clothes. Since you and Sirius had started to sleep in the nude, you continued to do so liking how the sheets felt over your skin.  

Stubbing your toe twice and hitting your head on the bed post you managed to pull on an over-sized shirt of sorts as you made your way downstairs to the front door.  

It had occurred to you that the bagging could be from burglars or bad wizards but what kind of thieves or nefarious characters announce themselves before they rob you? Curiosity got the better of you and rubbing your sore head you opened the door to see Sirius, clearly drunk, leaning against the doorway, his hand steadying him.  

Seeing you he moved his hand to your shoulder shifting you aside as he stumbled into your flat.

“Wherrriss he?” He slurred.

“Where is who?” Fuck he was drunk.  

“Your ‘fancy man!’” He said the words ‘fancy man’ in a high pitched Victorian accent before hiccuping twice.  

“Sirius What?” You held your hands out to try and steady him but he pushed you away and made to move upstairs.  

“I wanna word.”

“Sirius, there is no one here!”

“Yiss theris look! You’re even wearing hisss SHIRT!” He yelled the last word while making a swiping gesture at the air in front of you and stumbling back into the banister then trying to find the start of the staircase.  

“Oh Merlin…” You palmed your face, trying to reason with a drunk person was a nightmare you best just follow him and try to make sure he doesn’t hurt himself.  

“C’mere!” Sirius was climbing the stairs two at a time looking like a baby gazelle. If you weren’t so shocked at his sudden appearance you would have found the sight of Sirius Black casing your flat, pissed as a fart, looking for a mystery man rather funny.

“Aren’t you supposed to be on a date with Antheia?” You called out after him following his route into the bathroom.  

“Don’t change the subject!” Sirius called back, looking around finding the bathroom empty and moving towards your bedroom. He burst through the door and yelled ‘Expelliarmus!’ at your bed.  

Turning on the light you folded your arms leaning against the door while you waited for his eyes to adjust to the brightness. “When you have finished disarming my bed, can you please sit down? I’m worried you are going to fall over and hurt yourself..or worse, break something of mine…”

“Ha. Ha. Ha.” He deadpanned “there is s’mone here, you’re wearing hisss shirt. Wherisss ‘he?’” Sirius sat, unceremoniously, on your bed looking up at you.  

“Ok first of all, you and I are the only ones here, this is YOUR shirt – you must have left it here, and ‘he’ is nowhere because he doesn’t exist.” You paused looking at Sirius’ softening expression. “I meant what I said, I am not and have not been seeing anyone else but you.”

Sirius screwed up his face like the act of thinking was painful.  

“But then why did you break up with me?”  

As soon as he said that you realised that clearly, whatever it was between you and Sirius was more important to him than you originally thought.  

“It hurt, it hurt so fucking much Y/N!”

You sat next to him and rubbed his back. You were just starting to understand that you had kept the wrong secret and not told the correct one. Taking a deep breath you turned his face towards you and said: “I didn’t do it because I wanted to Sirius, I did it because I am a terrible friend.”

Seeing him open his mouth to query you, you pressed on, “Antheia Sirius, Antheia! She has gone on about how much she likes you basically since you arrived. I was supposed to help her date you, instead…” you swallowed. “Instead I fell for you and dated you myself.” Looking down you clasped your hands together. “I couldn’t take it anymore- things were starting to get serious and I panicked. The guilt flooded in and I felt so wretched. I’m so sorry for hurting you – I understand if you never want to see me again but please don’t leave work, you are so good at what you do and you have made it better for all of us. If it’s that bad I’ll ask to move departments.” You looked at him frantically, willing him to understand.  

Sirius’ face had not changed from that of shocked confusion since you had started talking. Now you had stopped and looked at him he opened his mouth to speak.

“Y/N?”

“Yes Sirius.”

“Y/N…I” he lifted his hand to reach for you, then dropped it adding “Y/N I think I need to lie down.”

You sighed helping him on the bed. You removed his shoes and placed your duvet over him. Turning off the light you climbed in beside him and closed your eyes. It had felt good to let all that had eaten you up out. Wondering foolishly if adding the part about falling for Sirius was a mistake, you listened to Sirius’ drunken snores, doubting if he would remember anything in the morning.

~~~  

When you woke the memory of last night and Sirius’ visit came crashing down. You turned over quietly so as not to wake him only to find the other side of the bed empty. On further inspection he was not in the bathroom nor in any other room of the flat. No note, just emptiness that the lack of his presence caused.  

You wandered aimlessly around you flat for the next hour –  too early to get ready for work and too late to go back to sleep.  

You wondered what Sirius was thinking; was he embarrassed about his outburst or just disgusted at finding himself in your bed? Did he remember anything? Not paying attention to how you were dressing yourself you half heartedly made an effort to finally get ready for work not distinguishing clothing items as you dragged them over your body. You were focusing on what you had to do – finish the confessions of last night and tell Antheia.

~~~  

“Antheia, can I have a word please?”

She looked up at you as you stood in front of her desk. “Yes sure…are you ok?”

“Just come with me.” You turned and led her towards the supply closet at the end of the hallway. Opening the door you gestured for her to follow you.  

“Y/N I repeat, are you ok? I’m only asking this because you look like you haven’t slept in eight years, you’ve just lead me to the stationery closet and you are wearing two shirts.”

“Ah shit.” You replied noticing she was right – two items of the same piece of clothing was becoming a trend for you.  

“I got dressed in the dark, there are no meeting rooms free, no I’m not ok and I don’t want anyone to overhear us.” You pinched your nose between your fingers and took a deep breath.

“Antheia, I have been seeing Sirius, it started a few months ago when we went home together after the Christmas party. I tried not to get involved but I did and I couldn’t tell you.”

Antheia lifted her eyebrows her mouth opening slightly.

You bulldozed on wanting to get the confession out of you like spitting poison, not stopping to let her speak. You told her everything right down to the part where you expected her to disown you and how truly awful you feel. “I fought against it since you told me you were interested and I was doing well until well that night then it sort of snowballed. I’m so sorry – for what it’s worth, I haven’t ever felt this bad.”

Antheia considered you for a moment. “I know.”

“You..What?” You spluttered, appalled.

“I mean, I figured. The way he looks at you and last night, our ‘date’” She signed quotation marks with her hands as you rushed, “oh my gosh yes, you had a date – listen I won’t stand in the way -I hope you can be happy and have fun…” She silenced you, waving her hands in front of your face in a ‘shushing’ gesture.

“As I was saying our ‘date’ he mainly talked about you. It was clear he is into you…if not love.”

“I’m so sorry Antheia, I ruined your date, I know you were looking forward to this.” You started to silently cry. Antheia’s face softened and she placed a hand on your shoulder.  

“Y/N, you had every right to like him but you should have told me, I went on about him and now I feel a fool.” She shook her head. “If you had told me I could have figured out sooner that the spark wasn’t there between Sirius and I…maybe I could have perused other interests.” Her eyes glazed over at this point until you sniffed bringing her back to the reality of you both standing quite close in a small store cupboard at work.

“It’s ok.” She looked at your tear stained face, “I will get over this but I may be a little annoyed for a while – you really should have just told me.” You nodded dropping your head.

“Is there anything else? I have a coffee date ahhh meeting with Melvin.” She corrected herself and blushed quickly opening the door and stepping back into the hallway.

You knew Antheia, she didn’t hold grudges but you could tell she was disappointed in you – that stung far more and you had half hoped for an angry outburst.  

Wiping your face, you brushed the front of your two shirts smoothing them out as an act of collecting yourself to head back to work.

Antheia turned back to you and caught your wrist. “For what it’s worth I think you should see Sirius, he really likes you. Drinks a bit though?” She hummed curiously before striding off.  

~~~  

“He’s not here.” Moody abruptly told you when you found Sirius’ office empty, moving to Moody’s to ask where he was.  

“Well right, I did work that part out Madeye. Judging by his empty office. When will he be in?” You smiled sweetly and a little dangerously at Moody subtly telling him not to fuck with you today. Moody eyed you for a brief second then said, “he won’t be, called in sick.” Before swiftly turning away leaving you confused and slightly panicked alone on the second floor corridor.

Your mind worked in overdrive: -no no no he can’t leave this is your fault -did Moody say he was leaving though or just not in today -he has until Monday to decide -has he decided already and written his job off? -no he is hungover, remember -but he can take a draught for that -what if he’s mortally injured? -then he wouldn’t be calling in sick would he? -well then why…?  

Your whole body sagged as the awful and most likely reason zinged through your brain: he just doesn’t want to see you.

The day moved on so slowly it was almost If the clock was in slow motion. You had performed all of your assignments, tripping through meetings, breaks, and tasks on auto pilot. All with one confused dilemma bouncing around your head: You needed to see Sirius, but you were sure he didn’t want to see you.  

By the time the clock finally hit 5pm you were out of the office like a shot, dodging colleagues and questions of Friday night pints as you raced out the door and onto the street. Too bad if Sirius didn’t want to see you, you wanted to explain how much he meant to you and how idiotic you had been so at least he didn’t leave his contract thinking you were someone you were not. Hopefully he would hear you out.

You had decided to call round to his house and ask to see him knowing that if Sirius refused to come to the door, Remus who was staying with him as he did once every month, would.

Remus indeed answered the door, appearing with a pallid complexion causing you to wince at his obvious illness. “Hi Remus, how are you? You look….well…” you trailed off.  

He smiled kindly, “nice to see you, Y/N what can I do for you?”

“I’ve come to speak with Sirius, May I?” You pointed inside; wordlessly asking entry to the house.

“I’m afraid he’s not here.” Remus looked at you with a strange expression, was it pity? You looked away before it could fully form on his face not wanting to break down in front of him.

Oh. So he didn’t want to speak with you.  

You dropped your head for the second time that day, nodding slowly and turning to leave. Before you had taken a step, Remus added “he mentioned something about visiting a haunt from last night.” Remus winked at your hopeful expression. You replied a quick thanks before rushing off.  

Which bar was Sirius at last night? Antheia had asked him so perhaps she had suggested the bar? You knew of three favourite watering holes of hers and set off to the first as fast as you could.

After several hours of aparating to every possible establishment Antheia could have taken him too last night with no luck you trudged slowly home. It was dark, cold, and you were near starving having not eaten all day.

Shoulders drooping slowly with no energy to apparate inside your flat you dragged your feet around the corner of your street and headed towards home.

As you lifted your head, nearing your house, street lamps illuminating only a few metres in front of you, you saw a figure sitting on your stoop watching you.

Hand on your wand you drew nearer, eyes adjusting to the sight you stopped and your breathing hitched.

There, sitting patiently in his black leather jacket was Sirius Black.

“Hullo Y/N.” Your legs had moved of their own accord again, you stood before him taking in his features as he stood drawing up his full height: his dark wavy hair, grey penetrating eyes, stubble rough on his sharp jaw, chest hair peeking out from his shirt which was undone quite low for an autumn night. Tight jeans shaping his athletic legs…realising you were literally looking him up and down you blushed, forming words of hopefully a greeting, “Sirius…I..I’ve been looking all over for you. Remus said you were…” his smile took you off guard, “I know, he sent me a message – he’s too cryptic sometimes he knew I was here.” He continued to look at you waiting for you to speak.

You had spent the entire day overrun with things you wanted to tell Sirius but at the moment he stood before you, everything shed from your mind and you continued to stare at his beautiful form.

Finally mustering some sort of cognitive control you muttered, “you weren’t at work today?”

“Ah yeah.” He ran his hands through his hair looking bashful. “I wasn’t feeling great and Remus had a bit of a bad night, I wasn’t there for him and he needed some help. He actually ended up helping me.”  

“Oh.” You replied eloquently.  

You both stared at each other again.

Sirius broke the silence, “what did you want to tell me?”

What you were going to say to Sirius was to explain again now he was sober, why you behaved that way you did that night. At best you hoped for Sirius to know how wonderful he is and how much he deserved. At worst, well that didn’t bear thinking about, but now him looking at you intently with his beautiful face captured in the moonlight, lips drawing you in you could only stare at him in awe. However a thought had just occurred to you: “why are you here?”

“You went looking for me everywhere to ask me why am I here?” He looked slightly amused at your confused expression.

“No I wanted to tell you, to explain to you that…well…I need you to know that…I love you.”

His eyebrows almost disappeared into his hairline as he opened his mouth in shock.

“No, wait, what?!” You were scrambling.  

What the actual fuck! After hours of going over everything you wanted to say to him you went with: I love you???

Your brain was smoking, you love him? Well sure you admire him, he’s kind and clever and funny, the best shag you’ve ever had but love him? Well of course you only want to see him happy but that’s normal right? And ultimately he has made you the happiest you’d been in a long time and you couldn’t picture your future without a Sirius figure popping up…ahhh. Yep love. Great.  

“You love me?” Sirius whispered.  

Bloody heck, timing Y/N! “Yeah about that, look can we go inside please and I’ll explain?” You didn’t give him a chance to answer, and swiftly moved past him opening your front door and crossing the threshold before he had even turned around.  

You decided to stand in the kitchen fumbling with cups and a kettle.

“Y/N” Sirius called softly moving slowly towards you,

“Tea?” Not looking at him you switched the kettle on and searched for tea bags in your kitchen cupboards.

“Y/N.” He was right behind you now. You dropped your hands and let him steer your shoulders, turning you round to face him.

You stole a glance at him. He was looking at you so tenderly, a look that held compassion and kindness deep in his gaze. He opened his mouth to speak but you deftly pressed a finger to his lips halting his speech.

“Don’t.” You couldn’t take the rejection right now. Not before he knew how sorry you were for this whole mess. “Don’t speak, I know.”

“You know?” He muffled onto your finger. The vibration of his voice and friction on your skin from his stubble opened a flood gate in your nether regions which were obviously not picking up the severity of this situation.  

“I know you don’t feel the same. You can’t possibly! I have caused too much turmoil already.” You took a deep breath.

“You told me last night I hurt you and I am so sorry for that. I didn’t think you would be hurt and I certainly never assumed you would want to leave your job. I have admired you from a far ever since we met. I never imagined that you could possibly have any interest in me so I kept my feelings hidden. By the time you did, Antheia had talked my ear off about you and you were essentially forbidden, but I kept going because I started falling for you. I fell hard and when I thought about the future everything exploded, I didn’t want to start a relationship lying to you or my friend…it felt wrong and I thought the only way was to end it but you have left a gaping whole in my life and it hurts every time I move…I mean” You screwed up your eyes in pain. You didn’t want to guilt him into loving you. “…no I It doesn’t matter how I feel argh all I want you to know is that you are the most amazing, loving, incredible man, you changed my life and I will always be so grateful to have known you.” Exhaling with the effort it took to try and coerce your feelings into any semblance of meaning.

Sirius had not looked away during your admittance and he didn’t now. The seconds ticking as the silence grew was palpable.

You allowed yourself to search his eyes and found a multitude of emotions swirling: fear, surprise, lust, surety.

You had dropped your hand from his lips during your speech and in an absent-minded way lain it against his chest.

“You want me to go?” It was a question, he asked as he cupped your hand in his own holding it in place, not letting it move from his chest.

“No! No Sirius not at all, unless you want to?” He shook his head.

“I came here to apologise for my behaviour last night.” He paused looking at you. “I thought about apologising this morning but I couldn’t bear facing you so I left as soon as the dawn appeared.”

“Sirius do you remember what we talked about”

“I do.”

“So you are aware that there isn’t  and never was another man, just you…and I guess Antheia who I was referring to.”

“Yes. I am sorry for barging in. I don’t know what came over me.” He gave a side smile at this.  

“It’s fine, I deserved it.”

“You really believe that don’t you?” He asked concerned.

You didn’t reply, just nodded tears forming in your eyes.

“Ok, come with me.” Sirius took your hand and rushed out the door.

“Sirius, where are we going?”

“Last night I accepted a date with Antheia but I was not on my best behaviour…I drank too much as you soon found out.” You smiled at this remembering him attempting to climb your stairs.

“I was still upset with you and wanted to drown my sorrows. It wasn’t fair on Antheia but I don’t think she really cared.”

“What do you mean?”

“Apparate us to Antheia’s house and I’ll tell you.”

“What?”

“Come on.” He nudged you playfully. “I don’t know the address so hurry up!”

Nothing but the twinkle in his eye could have convinced you – it was addicting and right now you would do just about anything to keep it sparkling.

Appearing with a pop on Antheia’s doorstep you watched Sirius walk towards the door and knock loudly.

There was movement inside and some scrambling before Antheia opened her door looking startled. “Y/N! Sirius! Ah how can I help?”

“Y/N here still feels compelled to get you and I together even though I told her our date didn’t go well.”

What the fuck was Sirius saying?

Antheia laughed and replied “Y/N I told you today that it’s fine, I’m a big girl, you can stop punishing yourself over this if you are.” You shook your head sadly and she continued.  “You are not a bad person just be open about it – and be honest with your feelings and your friends. You know for a communications executive you aren’t very good at communicating!” She laughed at you opening and closing your mouth at this jab.  

“But you’re…” your thought had died in your mind as you became distracted at movement inside Antheia’s flat. “…you’re not alone?” Looking at Antheia fully you just realised she was wearing little clothing, a mere tee shirt over bare legs on a cool April evening.  

Antheia rolled her eyes and opened the door wider to reveal another scantily clad person.  “Melvin!” You yelled in surprise.  

“Hi Y/N, Sirius.” blushing red, Melvin moved out of sight and you looked back at Antheia.

“Yes Y/N my date didn’t go well with Sirius because I actually didn’t have feelings for him, I like Melvin – it took for our date for me to realise that and now, we’ll I don’t intend to hold back.”

Sirius chuckled and winked at Antheia.

“Ok Y/N, Sirius it’s been lovely but I have to go now, I’m…busy.”

Laughing at your perplexed face she added: “I can see this is going to take some time. We’ll talk about it Monday morning Y/N – you’re buying the coffee Ok?”

You nodded eagerly as Antheia returned Sirius’ wink and gave you a genuine smile before closing the door.

You turned to Sirius, “you knew Melvin was there? How?”  

Sirius chuckled again, grabbing your arm and disapparating you back to your living room. “Lucky guess- last night I mentioned I had seen her with Melvin a few times, she blushed so red I almost asked her if she was choking! It only took a bit of prodding from there for her to start realising her feelings for him are real and for me just a self made ideal. She seemed excited at the prospect of telling him this the next day: today.”

He looked at you intently.

“You see that’s what has happened on all of my dates after Azkaban. Everyone was expecting the idea of the me they made up in their head, no one took the time to see the reality inside and couldn’t understand when they didn’t feel the spark.” He paused and ran his finger down your cheek. “It was different with you, you see me the real me and still stick around. That’s why I decided not to give up on you even when I thought you were with someone else.”

“What are you saying Sirius?” Feeling lighter that you had in months, hope lifted its head in your mind and created flickering waves of shocks rooting you in place unable to look away from him.

“I’m saying I think I love you too, or at the very least am truly. Madly. Deeply. Falling for you.” He punctuated each word with a kiss on your cheek, neck, and jawline as he removed your coat.

Eyelids threatening to flutter shut in divine bliss and happiness at his words, it took great effort to keep them open to smile at him, cheekily saying,” I think those are song lyrics, Sirius!”

“Bugger.” He breathed. “Here I was thinking that was so smooth.” He had taken your waist in his hands and dropped more kisses on your collarbone and shoulder. You tilted your head allowing him more access as the kisses turned to licks and bites.  

Your response to his words was a loving, slow moan and he smiled into your neck uttering, “I’ll just have to prove how smooth I am in another way.”

He ran his hand down your stomach and moved it under your shirts faltering only for a split second as he noticed the double layer then shaking it from his mind. Softly stroking your abdomen, he undid your pants and inched his hand lower and lower until it came into contact with your clit. Hearing your sharp intake of breath, he circled the sensitive bead with his thumb as he pressed his middle finger against your perineum sliding it forward into you and back.  

“Fuck Sirius!” You gasped. How did he hit the right buttons every time? He quickened his pace biting your neck in the process then licking the spot he bit.  

“Godric Y/N, how are you so wet for me?” He moaned into your neck.  

Feeling alive at his touch you purred, “Oh Sirius, trust me it is never dry when you are around.”

He growled removing his hand picking  you up and placing you on the kitchen table as he feverishly devoured your mouth. Hungry, panting kisses, tongues swirling while his hands worked quickly taking off every piece of clothing in sight; yours and his.  

He gripped you to him like you were his life raft and he was a drowning man, lost at sea.

Your hands ran all over him, tracing his pectorals, his muscled biceps, scars and lines as you explored him dropping your hands down to feel his erection; hard as a rock and already dripping with desire.

He let out a sharp hiss as you took him in your hand and began to massage slowly along his shaft.

“Two can play that game, Y/N.” He growled looking at you before reaching down and resuming his touch on your clit, adding a long finger inside you and curling it at just the right angle. “God you are beautiful.” He was one had holding your waist, the other quickly bringing you to the brink. He twitched every now and then as your hand on his cock was revving him up in the most incredibly way.

You noticed he was holding himself back. You had had enough experience with Sirius to tell. He was teasing you, torturing you slowly. He had twice now got you to the edge of orgasm only to stop his movements on your clit to pause and kiss you or flick your nipples with his tongue. The third time he did this you caught a mysterious glint in his eye and he couldn’t quite suppress a tell tale smirk. He was ruining you and enjoying every second of it. A sweet, excruciating punishment perhaps for time spent apart.

You loved it when he did this. When he took control, he was a natural dominant and you were only too happy to play subservient, especially when his role sent you to heaven and back often three times a night.

But tonight, you decided, was the night to turn this arrangement on its head.

“Stop!” You cried.

Sirius let go of your nipple from between his teeth, looking up at you with concern.

“Y/N is everything alright?”

“No Sirius! But it will be if you follow me.” The dominant tone in your voice got his attention but before he could say anything you took his hand, placed it firmly on your arse and squeezed it forcing him to grip you painfully. Merlin, it felt good.

“I want you to stop teasing me or I will make this very very hard for you.” You firmly gripped his cock as you said this and it throbbed beautifully.

“What do you want me to do?” Sirius’ voice came out as a rasp and looking into his eyes you could see the pupils dilate until his eyes were almost black with desire.

“I want you to take me right here, right now. I want to feel you deep inside me as I know only you can go. I want to rock against you as you fill me up taking every inch of me with you and I want you to come inside me as you scream my name.”

If there was any grey left  in his eyes it was gone now, they had blown dark with incredible desire. Sirius had always relished being loved by women but never had someone nearly made him come with just words. He so rarely was not in control during sex and the fact that you were reducing him to a dripping, shaking mess was thrilling.

Giving him a helpful nudge you guided him by his cock closer to you, tilting your hips upwards. His actions were instant; the hand gripping your arse pulled you to the edge of the table and your folds to the tip of his cock which was aching.

Leaning up to lick his earlobe you whispered: “now fuck me, Sirius.”

He slammed into you, gripping both you and the table for resistance.

“Oh fuck!”

You loved the exquisite feeling of Sirius being inside you, the way he pumped in and out, touching you everywhere and completely satisfying you.

When he wasn’t kissing you sloppily he was panting in your ear telling you how tight you were, how good you felt, and how much he missed you.

“I missed you too Sirius, oh Godric you feel good!” You clenched your walls around him as he thrust, rocking back matching his rhythm. “Yes keep doing that, right there!” He was hitting a spot that was building inside of you. Growing stronger and stronger, higher and higher until…

“OH FUCK! SIRIUS!” You came, sparks flashing in front of you as you clung to him experiencing a climax that wasn’t stopping. “Oh God, Sirius it’s still going…” knowing how your pleasure turns him on and that this might push him over the edge too, you kept talking, your words barely distinguishable amongst a nonsense of moans until he heard you say: “please come for me Sirius, I love it when you come.” Hearing your voice seductively encouraging him mixed with the motions of your body, and your mouth on his neck threw him over the edge. He gripped your body, causing what you were sure would be delicious marks on your skin.  He couldn’t hold you close enough when he stilled inside you yelling your name as he came.

He was still coming seconds later when you clenched, tightening your walls around his cock causing him to jolt, groan, and bite your neck as the last spurts of his come stopped.

He stayed there, biting and kissing your neck, hands still clutching you as he rocked slightly inside of you before pulling out.

Panting heavily, not trusting your legs to hold you up, you stayed seated on the table. Sirius had his head resting on your shoulder, arms propping  him up either side of you as he shook away the spots dancing in front of his eyes.

Breathing slowly coming back he looked up at you, your glistening forehead, chest rising and falling with every pant, you looked like a dream.

“Y/N, that was…Oh wow…it was…”

“Fuck!” You exhaled.

“Yes!” He laughed, straightening up and only wobbling slightly.

He took your hand and you jumped off the table as he pulled you to him. Holding you tightly and kissing your head.

You were both still standing like that several minutes later and would have continued to do so had your leg not started to cramp.

Breaking apart and rubbing your thigh you announced: “I need tea, Sirius tea?”

“Sure.” He walked slowly around the room picking up various items of clothing until he found his jeans and shirt popping them on.

Excusing yourself to the bathroom you returned in new underwear and a tee shirt to find him splayed out on your couch, two teas on the coffee table, hot and steaming.

Looking at the strip of abdomen visible as his shirt rode up and following that to the obvious bulge in his pants you licked your lips. God! You had just had sex, mind blowing sex and here you were still longing for the man.

He noticed and smirked, “like what you see Y/N?”

“You know it.” You winked at him, grabbing a tea and situating yourself half on his lap and half on the couch. “If you lose the pants and shirt I could possibly be persuaded to letting you stay the night!”

He laughed, sat up and placed his arms around you kissing you deeply before looking at you and clearing his throat.

“I meant what I said Y/N, I am falling for you,  if I haven’t already. It wasn’t said to make you feel better, I really meant it.”

You stroked his hair. “I know and I meant what I said, I love you. It feels good to say how I feel so I’m not taking it back. Hmmm…” You sipped your tea, contemplating, “being open when you are scared of the reaction is actually quite liberating.”  

“Mmmm you should do it more!” Sirius teased you.

“Well Ok then…” you also cleared your throat: “Sirius, that was the best sex of my life and I would quite like it to happen again and again for the foreseeable future as well as seeing you, but first…” there was a knock at the door. “Excellent timing, first we need to eat so I ordered us some food.”

A huge grin broke out on Sirius’ face as he watched you get up and make your way to the door, “Oh Merlin Y/N, if I didn’t love you before this would do it!”

You laughed as you opened the door and accepted the order, not noticing you were still in your underwear and giving the delivery man an indecent view.

You were so happy however that even if you had noticed, you wouldn’t have cared.

---

Tag list: @evyiione @belladonnarey @virgilwrites @emmamass24 @sirius-lysad @riddikuluslypotter @mylovelykelsifer @sly-vixen-up2nogood @ashkuuuu

[angrylizardjacket]

and life is a nightmare

Run to Paradise 'verse

A/N: I went through a lot of shit tonight so have some Lola/All of Motley Cruel hurt-comfort. Also, this is set during a tour, probably one of the earlier ones, and she's got a pre-established open and casual thing with Vince, Nikki, and Tommy (and anyone else she happens to pick up on the road), if that makes sense. I swear it'll be addressed in the main story. Also I wrote this on my phone please be kind.

Lola's been weird since they'd made it on the bus, standoffish, well moreso than usual. She'd taken the first aid kit and absconded to the back of the bus before almost anyone else had climbed aboard. Nikki knew something was off, he and Lola were weirdly in tune with each other, and Tommy knew because he was weirdly in tune with Nikki. Mick, however, knew because even though he wasn't Lola's father, he was a father, and he's got a certain intuition.

"I'm fine, just a fight last night went fuckin' pear shaped," she snapped at them as they asked her about it. That seems to tide over the Terror Twins, but Mick stays, frowning and unconvinced. Lola's lost fights before and come out singing; this was different.

"The fuck are you looking at, you geezer? I told you I'm fine." She's lashing out; usually she's got enough respect for him to keep that confined to the younger boys who deserve it more coming from her, so something must be really wrong. She was awkwardly trying to dress her knuckles without moving the rest of her arm, and failing miserably, trying not to wince, and again, not doing well at it.

"Watch yourself, girlie." Mick growled, but cleared off the small pile of clothes beside her, taking a seat. He looks over her injury and finds realisation dawning over him. Her knuckles were bruised, yes, but the arm of her jacket was slashed all across her forearm and coated with dried blood; it wasn't super noticeable against the black leather, but up close it was a little horrifying.

"What the hell happened?" He kept his voice low, taking the bandage from her hand. She tries to protest again, but he cuts her off with a look. He carefully, discretely, picks at one of the slashes along her arm, frowning deeper and apologising as she visibly winces. Her anger was cracking under his concern. "These need stitches, why the fuck haven't you been to the hospital?"

"Thank you, Mother Mars, but I think I- ow!" She yelps as he tugs gently at the sleeve of the jacket. Tears pricked the corner of her eyes as she sulked, swiping back the bandages, going back to wrapping her knuckles.

Sighing deeply, Mick rolls his eyes, taking it off her again and dressing the wound far more effectively, trying to jostle her arms as little as possible.

"You're going to the hospital when we get to the next town- no arguments, girlie, or I'll get Doc to drag you there; you know he'll do it, too."

"He's a tool," she sulked, amid hisses of pain, but Mick just let that comment slide.

"I didn't mean to get fucked up like this," she says, frowning watching him work. Mick grunts, and she takes it as a question, a cue to keep talking, "I know you think I just throw myself into fights for fun, but I pick my battles, okay?"

"So what made you pick the one against the asshole with the knife?" Mick asks, and Lola's quiet for a long time.

"It wasn't a fight; he was going after a girl who had less protection than me, I think. I don't- I was-" She can't quiet articulate it, but her nose twitches in answer.

"So you were high as shit and jumped into a knife fight; you're an idiot, you know that?"

"It wasn't a fight!" Lola exclaimed, before hissing loudly in pain from where she'd moved her arm.

"You alright, Lols?" Tommy calls, frowning, beer in hand.

"Yeah, Nurse Mars is just being a nosy bitch," Lola rolled her eyes, and the other three boys laughed. Mick shook his head, but didn't comment. "It wasn't a fight," she insisted, quieter this time, "I just- she was fucking terrified, I remember that, okay? And I just remember needing to put myself between her and the asshole; I didn't know he had a knife until it was too late, I just tried to shield my face, and when I got a chance I decked him, but-"

"But the damage was already done." Mick ties off the bandage and sits back, putting the rest of the bandage back in the medical kit.

"He had a knife," and her voice is so surprisingly raw that Mick has to take a moment, to look at her cradling her injured arm by herself, how she's hunched in where she was usually bright and open, despite how tough she liked to appear. "I could have- look at what he did to my arm." And she nods down at the shredded leather jacket clad arm. Her gaze was cloudy with tears, and Mick cleared his throat.

"Are you okay?" He asks awkwardly, and Lola's eyebrows raise as she sniffles, wiping the traces of tears before they could even threaten to spill.

"Yeah fine, I'm fine." She insists, but Mick shakes his head.

"Drummer," he calls sharply, and Tommy looks up like an excited puppy, "you're the soft type; come hug Lola." This, however, brings the whole rest of the band over, intrigued, only to see Lola absolutely fuming.

"I'm fine you bastard," she snarls, even as Tommy sits on her other side, wrapping his arms around her and perching his chin on her shoulder.

"Why's this happening?" He asked, and Mick gave a small smile at Lola's warning look, completely ignoring her blaring subtext.

"Girlie got into a knife fight and got her arm all slashed up." And he sounds a little smug when he says it, standing to move to the front of the bus, making room for Nikki to sit on her other side.

"Oh shit! Oh shit," Tommy's eyes went wide as he finally focused on the arm of her jacket, on the way the thick leather had been sliced through several times, blood drying at the edges of the cuts.

"Holy fuck, Lo, that's bad-fuckin'-ass." Nikki smirked, punching her in the shoulder.

"You just can't help yourself, can you?" Vince smirked at her, arms crossed and hip cocked, "those are gonna scar up and you're just gonna keep getting hotter."

"Alright, fuck her in your own time," Nikki rolled his eyes, though he gives Lola's thigh a squeeze as he moves past Vince, back to where they'd been working on a song.

"Believe me, I will."

"I'm right here!" Lola calls out after them, and Vince throws a wink over his shoulder. Lola smiles a little, "okay fine, as long as you keep calling me badass."

"Baby, I'll sing your praises all-"

Both Nikki and Tommy cut him off with groans of disgust.

"Could you be any fucking cheesier? You already got your yes, can you maybe actually put in some work now?" Nikki spits, throwing a pen at the blonde, who just grumbled in response.

Tommy's still got his arms around Lola, who's leaning against him, though she'd deny it if asked.

"You sure you're alright, Lols?" His voice is quiet, contemplative, and Lola hesitates, deciding between dismissive and honest.

"He had a knife," she says gently, leaning into Tommy's embrace, resting her head against his for a moment.

"Did you?" He asks. She shakes her head. "We're you scared?" It's blunt, but he sounds genuinely concerned for her.

"I was high," she admits, "I wasn't anything, I just knew that I was stronger and more," she laughs a little, though it's humourless, "well armoured than the groupie he had cornered."

"You were her night in shining armour!" Tommy laughs a little, grinning, and Lola relaxes a little.

"Yeah," she pauses, face falling, "I'm scared looking back, you know? I could have been gutted, right there at the after-party. It's fucked."

Tommy is quiet for a long moment, before humming.

"You want me to get you a few lines, help calm you down?" He asks, and Lola smiled, soft and genuine, nodding.

"Gotcha covered," and he presses a quick kiss to her shoulder before swanning away to look for one of the several stashes of coke they had around the bus. She's still shaken, even after she shares a few lines with the boys, but she'd never be able to admit that. Even so, they all seem to know, and if they do take a few more moments than necessary to make sure she's alright throughout the trip, she's quietly grateful.

[pollaidh]

In-line meta 221B just before the hug

221B Scene. Discussion between John and Sherlock. End of TLD.

SHERLOCK: “Perhaps the drugs opened certain doors in my mind.” (Like closet doors, last time he took drugs, in TAB.) … “Intrigued.”

JOHN: Makes dismissive/semi-humorous comment showing Sherlock John’s care for him is merely duty, a duty he is sharing with others.

SHERLOCK: “I thought we were just hanging out.” The softening of Sherlock’s gaze at the end shows this is the truth. He wishes they were just hanging out, but he thinks John’s there out of duty, not because he wants to be. Reinforces this with: “I do think I can last 20 minutes without supervision.” (Duty again. The tiny self-deprecating smile at the end. He’s hoping John will joke back as usual, continue their old camaraderie. He’s setting up for a private joke, but John doesn’t respond.) Just says -

JOHN: “If you’re sure.” Doesn’t meet Sherlock’s eye, his gaze is straight ahead until the last second.

JOHN: Makes comment about going to Rosie.

SHERLOCK: (Voice soft). “I should come and see her.” (Beseeching look.) Unusually subdued. Ah yes, Rosie is the most important to him now. And instead of throwing out some joking, petulant statement, he calmly accepts he no longer can come first to John. The subtext: Do you still want me to be part of your life? Sherlock looks at John as John talks with head-Mary. John unsure how to take this - does Sherlock seriously want to spend time with Rosie?

  JOHN: Gives an unwelcoming yes. He’s not engaging.

SHERLOCK: Looks away. How to make him stay, how to get this back on the old footing? He taps his hand on side of mug - frustration, indecision. Pleased he has found something to say, he looks up. The case. Yes. John’s always interested in the case. That’s why he’s interested in Sherlock, for the excitement, the two of them fighting crime together. 

SHERLOCK: Starts in his light professional voice to discuss case. John isn’t thawing. Sherlock trails off with a little laugh. He’s nervous. 

JOHN: “That’s good.” (Low intonation at end, shutting down this conversation. Might as well have said ‘that’s nice.’)

(This part of the scene, the stops and starts, and averted looks, talking about anything but the real story, reminds me of the Mr Darcy meets Lizzie Bennet scene in the Colin Firth version: A couple who are in love but don’t know they are in love, have argued, and see each other again in difficult circumstances, don’t know what to say to each other, or how the other feels.)

JOHN: Clenches hand (sign of John’s stress that Sherlock must have picked up on over the years).

SHERLOCK: Looks to his tea. This isn’t going well. John is upset. John is leaving. He’s going to have to go deep.

SHERLOCK: “Are you okay?”

(Such a loaded question. This isn’t ‘how are you?’ as a greeting or a post-bomb check. His voice is raw, all pretence gone. He cares. It’s hard for men to get onto this plane of conversation. He REALLY cares.)

JOHN: Laughs, but returns.

SHERLOCK: Watches John’s reaction, accepts the anger he feels is his due. He knows he’s broken them so no smart arse comments, he doesn’t argue, he just accepts….

SHERLOCK: “In saving my life she conferred a value on it, a currency I do not know how to spend.” (Without you I don’t know why my life is. He earlier said he couldn’t commit suicide because of the value of his life to John, but he doesn’t know how to live if John doesn’t even want to be friends. He can’t live or die without John.)

JOHN: Still not forthcoming, but his choice of words “It is what it is” have deeper meaning for the audience. Could be interpreted by Sherlock as ‘tough, this is what we’ve got’.

SHERLOCK: Swallows. That’s all he’s getting. He’s glad to get that forgiveness (he thought he’d broken any feelings romantic/platonic John had for him. He can’t say anything here because John’s talking about Mary (on the surface), he’s still in love with her. Sherlock’s culpability (which he feels even if forgiven) means he can’t talk about her. He has no right.

JOHN: Back to his duty - he’s on the 6-10 watch. The meaningful moment is over.

SHERLOCK: Tears in his eyes. Bravado: “Looking forward to it.” It’s all he’s got left.

JOHN: “Yeah.” A blank little ‘yeah’ and an eye-roll. He’s not.

IRENE?: Text alert!!!

JOHN: Jealous.

SHERLOCK: Plays innocent. (Could he have set that up?) Starts analysing whilst John stalks back over. Why does Irene’s ringtone make him come back. John was always jealous of Irene. …

SHERLOCK: “Oh. Okay. That’s good.” (For John’s deduction. He has no idea what this will be, He’s wrapping a protective coat around himself. Complete change of tone - a subdued version of his own mocking tone. This tone last used when John asks him to be best man, and he really doesn’t understand what’s being asked. Eyes flicker, he’s analysing, possibly responding mentally. Sips tea at the end there too. (And why does he keep his birthday secret?) All very polite and formal between them.

JOHN: “Seriously, are we not going to talk about this?”

SHERLOCK: (This being him and John, or something else?) “What? (Doesn’t dare say anything leading.)

Clarify 2 X more. Normally Sherlock predicts what John will say but here he really doesn’t know.

JOHN: “Woman..”

SHERLOCK: Screws eyes shut. Seriously? FFS John, how dense can you be?

JOHN: Lots of subtext about losing chances, with a very hetero “mate” as last seen in TSoT.

SHERLOCK: WTF? How can John still think he’s in love with Irene Adler? He made this clear. He’s confused. Something he’s missing. Right. Revert to standard line. “Romantic entanglements, while fulfilling for other people…” (Is this because he thinks if John really thinks Sherlock’s in love with Irene, than all his assumptions about what is between them must be flawed.)

JOHN: Talks about chance. “Chances don’t last forever… gone before you know it.” 

(Surface - about Mary, which means Sherlock can’t really respond. Also foreshadowing Last Problem. Subtext - he’s talking about chances between him and Sherlock, and telling unwittingly telling Sherlock to go for it.)

SHERLOCK: Eyes fall. This hits hard, He knows he’s lost his chance with John, back before he realised he loved him. This is an incredibly raw moment. Sherlock has a raw, earnest expression. 

JOHN: Talks about needing someone who completes you and makes you a better person.

SHERLOCK: “Forgive me…... I can safely say..” You complete me, you taught me to be a better man. That’s what love is. You are the better man, and you taught me. Except he doesn’t get to finish what is basically a confession of love, unlike Culverton Smith, whose confession couldn’t be stopped.

JOHN: “I cheated.”

SHERLOCK: Utter shock. Did he really not know? Then he realises Mary’s in the room, in John’s head. How can he replace a dead person. It’s heart breaking watching John talk to his dead wife. Sherlock analysing - so he still sees her and talks to her, but he cheated. Sherlock calculating WTF is going on here?

JOHN: Confesses all to Mary, himself, and Sherlock. Subtext, despite Mary being the mother of his child, he still cheated. He was only with her for the baby, but even that couldn’t stop him wanting more.

JOHN: “But I wanted more.”

SHERLOCK: Analysing. More with Faith? Or more than he got from his relationship with Mary. More with Sherlock? This is the moment Sherlock starts to wonder if there’s still a chance. He raises a wondering gaze, dawning hope in his eyes. John wasn’t committed to Mary like he’d assumed. What does that mean? (Sherlock is probably never going to be great at understanding emotions, though he’s improving.

JOHN: “I still do.”

SHERLOCK: (With who?)

JOHN: “Not the guy you thought…” 

(Surface level to Mary and Sherlock - I’m not a good guy. Subtext - I’m not the (straight) guy you thought I was. John’s equating good and straight because of internalised homophobia.) “I never could be.” (He’s always been this way - hmm that sounds familiar.)

JOHN: “But that’s the point…” You love warts and all. 

SHERLOCK: Subtext: Sherlock can be loveable even though he’s not perfect. John could love Sherlock. 

JOHN: “Who you thought I was is the man I want to be.” (2 levels - good man/straight man. Equating these is a sign of his internalised homophobia. And he’s telling the audience and Sherlock, that they have made false assumptions (that’s he’s straight).

MARY-in-John’s-head: “Well, John Watson, get the hell with it.” 

(Emphasis on hell. John has seen Mary tell Sherlock to go to hell, so links hell with Sherlock. He’s telling himself to get the hell on and tell Sherlock before it’s too late.” What else could this refer to - the recovery at surface level (John, get the baby, come back to life), but it’s much much deeper. As John stares, Mary smiles and disappears. John’s two sides (the conflict between Mary/John in his head, AND his good and bad side, and his side where he loves women and side where he loves men). John is integrated again. He accepts himself, warts and all, good man and bad, and all parts of his sexuality.

JOHN: Sobs, overwhelmed. He has given himself permission to be the man he was always supposed to be, to love himself entirely.

SHERLOCK: Absolutely serious, raw, none of the usual jokes and mania or glee, just entirely genuine and natural, puts down his tea and slowly, quietly, goes to John to comfort him. (He presumably hasn’t heard Mary’s contribution in John’s head, only John’s side. So he only sees John admit to Mary that he cheated, that he’s not the guy they thought. He doesn’t know John has just told himself to go for it. He seems John overwhelmed with guilt, as he sees it, not relief.) THEY HUG.

Compared to the wedding hug, which was so awkward, like John teaching Sherlock to hug, this is so natural. Mr Homes knows exactly what to do. Sherlock still cautious. Not sure how he’ll be received, this is not the moment for any declarations. But the hand on John’s neck is possessive and intimate, and John lays his head against Sherlock’s chest.

SHERLOCK: Glances up at the sky (thank god? Is this right? Am I doing it right?) All he cares about is that John is hurting.

Like the scene at the end of TSoT when Sherlock deduces the pregnancy, leaving him to realise there’s no chance with John now, this is such a raw, open, tender scene. They are being honest with each other and within themselves. There are still some miscommunications to clear up, but they are born of love and waiting for the right moment.