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wallisninety-six · 8 months

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Why 'Smile' is The Beach Boys'- and Brian Wilson's magnum opus

The Beach Boys, for many decades have had something of an identity crisis- the band mainly seen in mainstream as the fun & sun loving surfer band, soon gained newfound acclaim for the landmark production of Pet Sounds and saw growing interest in the band's (and Brian Wilson's) extremely tumultuous and even tragic history simultaneously. Smile manages to touch upon all of this at once, as we see the stunning transformation from the small teenage-led garage band in Hawthorne becoming musical and cultural icons.

What was planned to be a album meant to top Pet Sounds & The Beatles' soon-to-be album Sgt. Pepper- Smile has seen one of the most consequential episodes in all of rock history, But beside the legends & the endless debates surrounding it...what about the album itself? (For numerous reasons I talk about here, the 19-track, three-movement version on The Smile Sessions is the version (I believe) people should go to to experience their first listen with if you want the Beach Boys version of it- and is what this review is based on).

Truth be told, I do think Smile actually ties Pet Sounds for their best work, because its existence makes it so hard for me to choose *just* one album considered to be their best. And even if you never knew the album's history, the original songs easily represent the absolute culmination of Brian Wilson's then-only 5-year long career as a songwriter, composer, producer, and innovator in the industry- and he was only 23 when he started Smile.

For all the growing concerns that the Boys weren't cool or heavy enough during the 60s, and even though the album leans more on the experimental- Smile is still unapologetically Beach Boys in its sound, staying on-brand and allowing us a comfortable way to listen to newer, even challenging musical ideas. Brian's radically experimental composition chops are shown in full, dizzying force- with Smile, Brian was creating editing and production techniques that were so new and novel at the time, it would rarely be attempted again until digital music editing was more common decades later. The music world was his playground, and he was ready to try anything.

Some people may lament certain tracks (like "Holidays") are majority instrumental (due to the album being unfinished)- especially in comparison to Brian's solo version, but this is nothing new: Most Beach Boys albums up to this point had instrumental tracks where Brian tried new compositions, and Pet Sounds & Smile was no exception. But where Pet Sounds evolved instrumentals into *compositions* to fit the album's flow- Smile takes it several steps further. It (unintentionally) sets a positive example that not every song in an album- nor the album itself, needs to be conventional in any way. It was a bold new world and experiment for rock music- why be dogmatic with established rules?

If "Good Vibrations" was a 'Pocket Symphony', then Smile is the symphony itself and these songs are Brian's compositions, and like with editing, tried everything and used various levels of instruments and non-instruments to create a raw, bold new sound- and with the other Beach Boys, Van Dyke Parks and The Wrecking Crew musicians, it would slowly (and painfully) be realized.

The array and variety of sounds and moods in Smile's very compositions are stunning- it's seen in the dizzying Americana and Western sound of "Heroes & Villains", the gorgeous baroque tones of "Wonderful", the monstrous and hypnotic industrial noise of "Cabinessence", and the freakishly apocalyptic orchestral breakdown of "Mrs. O'Leary's Cow"- easily the most unnerving, intense, and horrifying song in all of Beach Boys canon. And like any good Beach Boys album- the more you listen, the more things that were hidden show themselves to you in Smile.

But that didn't mean that the vocals were neglected- far from it, and some of the best vocal and harmony work ever from The Beach Boys exist in Smile- and the opening hymn "Our Prayer" starts the album out reminding us this. And they're all utilized to terrific extent, especially with the songs mentioned above- the whole album wouldn't be the same with it all *completely* gone.

That leads into why the album- even though it's unfinished, sounds so weirdly whole and complete, and that was the incredible musical ingenuity of Brian Wilson as a songwriter & producer and his creative ways of breaking through the future of music with passionate and stylish brute force, while tastefully and lovingly honoring the old that inspired his musical world- going over countless genres & emotions in the process... and having it all still sound like it fits together.

Smile represents the most delicate balance of extreme contrasts, but this balance is miraculously pulled off for each one- quiet and loud moments, humorous & emotional, conventional songs versus songs with no rules, new instrumentals & old classical ones, and a dying old world versus the birth of something new led by impassioned youth...sometimes all in the same song.

The youth and vulnerability of Brian, however, was also unintentionally the project's downfall- He had too many ideas, so many aspirations and grandiose statements to make- but also had too much mental trauma and issues, and like many of his contemporaries, he flew too close to the sun and burned up his talents and energy in the process with a fiery glow.

Smile's purpose as a spiritual statement of youth surrounds all of the album- but even back then, Brian knew it could never last, he was slowly getting older, and reality- like it does with most people, birthed a brutal wake up call to his ambitions & outlook for the world- that more just future where the young could transform society & the world for better never came, and Smile's collapse would be an eerie warning to what the world would look like. After that- politics of love would turn into politics of conflict, as racial hatred and war loomed over America, and the Summer of Love would be violently torn apart by reality.

But while Brian eventually took a serious mental blow and had to scrap the project- he went down fighting tooth and nail, still believing that the band, and rock music itself can ascend to something more- the song "Surf's Up" encapsulates this entirely, declaring an end to the band's surfer image, and embracing a new and freer musical world. And while it's filled with dazzling (and even confusing) wordplay, the most simple, and easily understood part came at the end of it- the clearest message from the album and Brian himself, and tellingly- added years after the project's collapse:

A children's song, Have you listened as they played?, Their song is love, And the children know the way...

The fact that Brian would be able to actually live to see his vision fulfilled and completed on is own terms despite so much extreme trauma he went through- and see newfound love for Smile by younger folks listening to it for the first time 40 years later *and* make their own versions out of musical passion, shows that with time, these dreams can become reality- and planting those seeds for that world you believe in for the next generation to be inspired by... is always worthwhile.

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outerrangesource · 2 years

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Ozark, Outer Range Star Tom Pelphrey on Cookie Jar, Ozark Finale, Death

In Outer Range, Pelphrey plays Perry Abbott, who has long been grieving the mysterious disappearance of his wife by the time we meet him.

📸 SKYLAR REEVES

It’s interesting that you go from Ozark, being the lost character, to Outer Range, where you are the character dealing with loss.

Right off the bat, [my character, Perry] fascinated and scared me a bit, when I read that first pilot episode. Brian [Watkins] is a writer that I've loved for years as a playwright. I would workshop his plays with him in New York over the years. The thing about Perry that scared me is, basically, you come into a world where his stasis is broken already. He's barely holding on. That's fucking tricky in storytelling, because we as an audience can go anywhere with a character, if we are allowed in, and then we're allowed to take the ride with them.

Right in the first episode, he does a thing that basically sets the rest of the season in motion. It was like carefully tracking a man who is on the brink. Obviously, when he finds out they're going to stop looking for his wife, life pushes him even further over. He's at the bar, drunk. We see that he's really broken and then the fight happens. [Watkins had a deleted] scene where after Perry finds out that they're not going to look for his Rebecca anymore, he goes out to his truck. He sits in his truck and he's blasting cowboy death metal so loud that the fucking truck is vibrating and he's just staring.

I would've loved that.

An old teacher used to say this all the time in terms of storytelling. He's like, "We want to be shocked, but not surprised." We never want the audience to feel like we're fucking with them or that somethings cheap, that somehow, even if it's shocking, it’s true.

It sounds like filming Outer Range was a seven-month, quarantined, wilderness retreat.

Yeah, man. It was intense and difficult and so beautiful. Everybody really bonded and I think it was partly the circumstances. We're out in New Mexico in the middle of nowhere, pre-vaccines. We're riding horses every day. Then, we go over to a huge field where they have 30 cattle and we're literally learning how to drive cattle. Because we had some time there, before we started filming at night, we would rehearse. And that is a fucking luxury that you almost never get. I couldn't believe it. I felt like I was doing a play.

I know a lot of people can relate to this, but pretty much everybody was alone, regardless of whether people had family or girlfriends, boyfriends, spouses. Because of the nature of the thing, everybody was by themselves. Two months in, I was like, "Think I'm going a little crazy." And everyone was like, "Wait, me too." I'm like, "Okay, good then."

#outer range #outer range spoilers #tom pelphrey #interview

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not-sport-martial-art · 2 years

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I got tagged by @gatherer-schafer to post 6 albums I've been listening to recently. Roll, roll, roll, Plymouth rock roll over.

The Beach Boys - Smile (i was going to be an annoying bastard and post Smile six times because I've primarily been listening to Smile bootlegs this last week as well as Smile Sessions and Brian Wilson Presents Smile. The more I listen to it the more I'm sure it may be the *best* music I've ever heard if not necessarily my favourite. Also, after being used to Brian Wilson Presents and Smile Sessions both ending with Good Vibrations as this huge triumphant happy ending to what is otherwise quite a melancholy album, I have to say using Surf's Up as the end track (as was listed on Wilson's original track listing for a potential 1967 release of the album and which a lot of fan bootlegs tend to do) may be more fitting.)

Ween - The Pod (was also going to be annoying and post six different ween albums. always thought this was just a fine follow up to the sheer insanity of GodWeenSatan when I was younger. Now all these years later it's hard to even think of another album that sounds like this, even within Ween's own discography. It's fascinating just how easily they can emulate seemingly whatever style of music they like without ever feeling like they're just cheaply laughing at it. There's something very special about being able to write a song called 'Pork Roll Egg and Cheese' and having it capable of reducing me to tears each time. Ween have always been fantastic at toeing that fine line between being completely genuine and taking the absolute piss to the point where the line doesn't even matter anymore. When the guava's drained.)

The Residents - Demons Dance Alone (first listened to this around this time last year having been a half Residents fan for a bit. This is easily their most 'accessible' album but it's also an album full of misery. I still can't tell if Make Me Moo is supposed to be a joke, but I don't care, it's the sweetest song I've ever heard. The fact that it's followed by one of the most soul crushing songs I've ever heard is just a classic Residents joke.)

Jay Reatard - Singles 06-07 (i listened to this a whole, whole bunch in school, may as well have been like listening to the Ramones for the first time. Other artists may have played faster, more aggressive, but few had the raw energy on display in Jay's music. I hope he's sound, wherever he is.)

The Magnetic Fields - Distant Plastic Trees (I will never forgive stephin merritt for removing the best country song of all time plant white roses from seemingly every release of this album after the original pressing. Man went out of his way to erase his best lyric ("you're all I need, but you need more than country songs") and for what. I will track you down stephin. Easily the best magnetic fields album with all its toy keyboard noises and weird lo-fi aesthetics, and I wish stephin had kept susan anway on as even a part time vocalist after the first two albums. listen to 'you love to fail' and '100000 fireflies' before I explode.)

This Heat - Live 80/81 (for a brief moment on this album this heat play a lovely very pretty organ (?) and guitar part before going directly in to fucking makeshift swahili. Bastards.)

I'm tagging @gatherer-schafer and @futuredaysbycan. The heat goes on.

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bri-wilson · 3 years

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Brian Wilson and Hal Blaine recording “Good Vibrations” (1966)

#brian wilson #the beach boys #hal blaine #good vibrations #*mine #got this footage from the mccartney 321 doc :)#i'm so happy it's in color and we need more #i think brian is all of us listening to good vibrations

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anotherbeingsworld · 3 years

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the promise of happiness

Pairing: Bryce Lahela x F!MC (Alessia Lyxienne)

Book: Open Heart

Rating: G , TW: mentions of surgery.

Prompts by @choicesjunechallenge2021 Day 1 – plot twist

Summary: Alessia's ex is in town, and its quite a reunion. <3

A/N: hiii, so I decided to participate in the challenge and well, write lots of Bryce before we have to say goodbye to him soon. So, this is kinda (hopefully) become a writing spree for me - like a Bryce appreciation-ish of my own. I have some plans already - and, I can't wait to share them! Also, a huge shoutout to @appiomofchoice for a lot of her help on this fic and the upcoming ones! Enjoy! (also, I will start to use a new mc name! however, she is who casey is but, with a new name instead hehe) // i dont own any characters except mc and brian lewis. (and, i apologize for grammar errors and any errors in this story)

It was supposed to be a normal day, however, the gasped that escaped her signals that the day is going to be an adventure. As she stood beside Bryce, both of them were facing a familiar face who she knows all too well. Brian Lewis, the Brian Lewis. The knowing smirk on his face as his gaze falls onto her brings back all the memories during her time at med school before.

He was a senior, a few years older than her. As they started to get to know one another through a mentoring session with Dr. Lisbon in her anatomy class. They started to go out in a matter of months, as their study sessions become quite intimate in the past – before, breaking up as Brian left for an opportunity to continue his residency in London. They were on good terms, and seeing him again in front of her brought back old memories.

“Dr. Lyxienne, are we clear?” The sound of Harper’s voice pulled her out of a trance, as she was pulled back into reality.

“I’m sorry, would you repeat that once more?”

Harper nods, before introducing him to her – as Bryce raised an eyebrow at the man.

“This is Dr. Brian Lewis from John Hopkins – and, he will assist us in one of the diagnostics team cases.” Brian takes his hand out towards her as Bryce took it before Alessia could do anything.

“Nice to meet you, Dr. Lewis, I’m Dr. Bryce Lahela and this is…”

“The Dr. Lyxienne of course! How have you been Alessia?” He said with a huge smile on his face, as Alessia froze, not knowing or mentally preparing herself where her boyfriend met his ex.

“I’m doing fine, thank you, Dr. Lewis.” The formality makes him take a step back as the atmosphere around them becomes awkward.

“Well, Dr. Lewis – we will see you at the diagnostics office soon. It’s nice to meet you.” Harper shook his arm again, with a smile before leaving the room.

The three of them stood awkwardly, before Alessia’s pagers started to beep – as she quickly runs away from the scene any further.

The two men stood quietly before Bryce left the room as well – leaving a sighing Brian in the office.

Bryce’s pager started to vibrate, as he was called into the diagnostics office as he finished with an appendectomy. With a satisfied smile on his face, he was met with a full office – consists of Dr. Emery, Dr. Ramsey, Alessia, Dr. Carrick, and Brian who are discussing their new case.

“Bryce, welcome. Dr. Lewis, this is one of our top surgeons in our department– Dr. Bryce Lahela.” Harper stated before Bryce taking a seat beside Alessia who looks nervous upon the encounter.

“It's good to see you again Dr. Lahela.” His voice was rough with a hint of softness in it.

Bryce nods before he was passed with a copy of the case itself.

“Based on the check-up we did, we found that the patient has suffered from spinal osteomyelitis. It is known as an infection of the vertebrae – it is a rare case, however still dangerous overall.” His presence is commanding as the others listen to it intently.

“How dangerous is it?” Alessia’s voice can be heard as all eyes fall on her.

Brian smiles, as he explains.

“Infections on the spine can be extremely dangerous along with the surgery on that are can be risky with the probability that may lead to a case of paralysis or even more infection.”

She nods intently, as the room went quiet once more.

“When will the surgery be performed? I’m guessing the sooner, the better right?” Tobias adds along with the conversation.

“I suspect we kept her in for a couple of days, to make some additional check-ups. But, if a timeline was needed – definitely as soon as we could.” He concludes before taking a seat.

After a while of discussion – the team was dispersed.

“Dr. Emery, I have to ask why was I picked by Dr. Lewis for the surgery?”

“Dr. Tanaka recommended your name and he wanted to take you in this round. I have to go now for a meeting, but – if you have any questions, Dr. Lewis can answer it for you about the surgery.” He nods as Harper was out of his sight.

Alessia sits on her own, as the dish in front of her remains uneaten due to the textbooks on the table. She was quite occupied with the text in front of her without realizing she had some company awaits her.

Her gaze falls onto the familiar gray eyes looking at her – with the familiar smile since before. Brian was sitting opposite her.

“Yes, Dr. Lewis, what do you need?”

“It’s me Alessia, can we talk – why are you avoiding me?” His voice somewhat remains strong, as Alessia tries to avoid the question.

“I…don’t know. It's weird seeing you again after all these years.” She begins her argument, as Brian nods in understanding.

“I can quite say the same, you look as beautiful as years ago.” He compliments her, as she smiles and lets out a chuckle.

“Thank you. I gotta say – you look as good as you did years ago. But, why Edenbrook, what are you doing here even?” Alessia shuts the textbook, as she looked him in the eyes.

“Dr. Emery was a colleague of mine before, and she requested me to come by for the surgery. I didn’t expect you’d be here.” His gaze falls down upon his hands.

She nods, not knowing how to reply as the silence follows for a moment.

“I know it's an unexpected encounter. It might be weird seeing your ex after all these years, but…I am glad that I got to see you again Alessia.” He says with a smile on his face, the genuine expression she knew all too well from years ago.

Before she could reply, she saw Bryce making his way to her. She smiles at him, as Brian follows her gaze meeting his eyes. He waved at him, before glancing his way back to her. The wide smile on her face still presents on her face, as Bryce took a seat beside them.

“Dr. Lewis, Alessia.” He greeted them both, as Brian's gaze fall onto them both. How comfortable they looked together before he excuses himself from the table.

“I’ll see you in surgery Dr. Lahela, and Alessia.” He smiles before leaving the cafeteria.

Bryce’s gaze follows his trail until he left the cafeteria.

“So, I think I have been out of the loop as your boyfriend – but, who is he?” His eyebrows were raised at Brian’s empty seat.

She lets out a small chuckle,

“He is…my -ex in med school actually.” She lets the truth set free, as Bryce looks at her in awe actually.

“Well, you certainly had upgraded.” He jokes as a wink followed before she elbows him playfully.

“Very funny Bryce.” She says before opening her textbook again.

She feels his eyes on him, as she glances his way. He somehow looked nervous suddenly.

“How do you feel when you see him again?”

She thought about it,

“It feels like nostalgic, yet – the story between us has ended years ago. You don’t have to worry alright.” She winks at him, as Bryce lets out a mock laugh – as a response.

“I’m not worried! Never, nope.”

“Whatever you say, Bryce.” She said before leaning in for a kiss, as they continue to spend the remaining time together studying about the upcoming surgery.

It was days later, as Bryce preps for the surgery alongside Brian. The OR was quiet, as they were the only ones there. A few seconds later, the surgical assistant arrives alongside the on-lookers consists of other surgeons.

He took a deep breath before they began the procedure, the gallery above them was filled with doctors – as Bryce could recognize a few to name. Dr. Emery and Dr. Tanaka are whispering subtlely, Dr. Ramsey alongside Dr. Carrick and even Dr. Banerji are there. As his gaze moved towards the left, he was shocked to see Alessia sitting by the end of the gallery – as she waves his way. He smiles, before resuming his role alongside Brian.

The clock was ticking slowly, as he observes Brian’s work and was impressed by his handiwork. They switched tasks in between the surgery – and he felt alive at that moment.

“Dr. Lahela, pass me the lancet.” Bryce nods as one of the nurses passes it his way.

Brian was focused on his work before he blurted a question in the middle of the surgery itself.

“So, you are the boyfriend I assume.” His voice is low as Bryce look at him with wide eyes.

He nods, as Brian continues on the surgery with such ease in his work.

“How long have you been together?”

“We just made it official, but…almost three years.” He says proudly behind his surgical mask.

There was a pause in between before he says.

“Years ago, I knew that smile on her face – along with the look in her eyes, she really does loves you. And, when Alessia loves someone - she will go over mountains for you.” He said suddenly – as it felt like a promise for him.

Bryce nods and smiles to himself, remembering the moments they had gone through together.

“I know.” I will, an unspoken promise was said between the quiet atmosphere of the OR. As, a smile was visible on Brian's face - somehow he got the message.

As the procedure goes on, a couple of hours had passed – they survived the procedure after a couple roadblocks along the way. The patient has the last resort on the surgery – Bryce took the lead to amputate the affected limb to stop the infection from spreading further. And, at that note – the surgery was over.

They cleaned up from their dirty scrubs as the night has grown late for them both.

“Dr. Lahela – you did an exceptional job today.”

He smiles, feeling the glowing pride in himself.

“Thank you for giving me the chance to join in the surgery, Dr. Lewis.” He replies as Brian nods before they both started to go on separate ways.

It’s the day after the surgery, as Alessia stumbles upon Brian who is hugging Dr. Emery – somewhat as a gesture of farewell. As they went their separate ways, his eyes met with hers – a smile on his face.

“Hey.” He begins to conversation.

“Hi, leaving already?”

“Yeah, unfortunately, I have an emergency meeting with the head of surgery at John Hopkins in a few hours.” He explains as she nods in understanding.

“Well, it's good to see you again which is… very weird to say.” She lets out a laugh as Brian lets out a chuckle.

“It's good to see you too. It's been years, and I’m glad to see you thriving here Alessia.” He smiles as they hugged.

“Thanks to your pop-quizzes on anatomy that's what keeping me here.” She winks at the joke, as they let go of the hug.

“Well, I’m glad I could play a part in the memoir of Dr. Alessia Lyxienne then.”

She nods, as he checks on the time.

“I have to leave before the traffic gets insane – but, say ‘hi’ to Bryce for me? And, if he ever hurts you – just know I’ll be ready to kick his ass for you.”

“No need, I think he’ll make me happy.” She said wistfully, as Brian smiles even wider.

“Don’t forget to invite me to the wedding then.” He winks before leaving the hospital grounds.

He stopped in his tracks, as he gazes back at where he was before. Bryce and Alessia were seen happily smiling together, he smiles – feeling happy for them both.

At that moment, Bryce’s eyes met with his as he waves to him. Brian waves back, as in a second – he was gone out of their sight.

“He said ‘hi’ by the way.”

Bryce nods, as he remembers the words during the surgery – it felt like a promise for him to make her happy. He smiles, as he will keep that promise and make Alessia the happiest woman in the world with him.

THE END.

tags: @bitchloveskcbaseball , @mvalentine , @storyofmychoices , @princess-geek , @lahellacute , @annekebbphotography , @mrsbhandari, @dcbbw , @choicessa , @fantasyoverreality98 , @baltersome , @ofpixelsandscribbles , @thundergom , @starrystarrytrouble , @kelseaaa , @choicesficwriterscreations , @lalizah , @drethanramslay , @eleanorbloom , @openheartfanfics , @brycesgirl , @freckles-spangledvampire , @agentnolastname , @robintora , @adriansbiss , @appiomofchoice , @ariondevereux , @natureblooms24

#playchoices #bryce x mc #bryce lahela #open heart #open heart choices #junechoiceschallenge #open heart fanfics #alya writes #oc: alessia lyxienne #choices fic writers creations

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downondilaudid · 4 years

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Reality Check

Spencer gets tired of readers reckless behavior, and finally gives her a little reality check.

Requested: Yes

Prompts: My life motto is fuck bitches, get money blow cash.(This is a inspired by a line from the song ODD by Hey Voilet) & That’s not even factual

Word Count: 4.6K

Warnings: SMUT, LIKE PRETTY ROUGH SHIT

“Talk is cheap, but actions are priceless.”

― Green Monk

You wouldn’t necessarily consider yourself reckless, per se, just a little wild. It was a surprising turn of events when you and Spencer ended up together, his teammates had thought you would be nothing more than a fling, someone to keep his bed warm while he was gone. Yet, you had been together for a year and a half now and had been living together for five months.

Despite the two of you being opposites, you worked together beautifully, you easily complemented each other. Your wild nature allowed Spencer to relax, and enjoy the simplicities of life. While his sophisticated way of thinking forced you to use your head a little more, and consider the consequences of your actions. You loved Spencer, and he loved you, it was just hard sometimes, seeing the world through different eyes.

“C’mon Spence, please?” You pleaded, your hand latching into his arm to try and get his attention.

“I really need to work on this, Y/N” he mumbled absentmindedly, pulling his arm from your grasp, and writing something on a notepad.

“Spencer! You’ve been working on this all night, please take a break.” You shifted so you were standing behind him, wrapping your arms around him, and laying your head lightly against his shoulder.

He let out a mix between a sigh and a groan, and you could feel the vibration of it through his back. “I need to finish this, Y/N, watching you get drunk, and then having to drag you home, doesn’t sound like a break.”

You scoffed, “suit yourself, babes.” You pushed off of him, leaving the room to go get ready.

The music pounded in your ears, and the bass rattled your drink against the table. You were already quite tipsy, but for the first time, you weren’t a happy drunk. You guess you were what people call, a sad drunk.

You stirred your straw around your drink absentmindedly. “Y/N! Come dance with me! Please?” One of your friends questioned.

Right as you opened your mouth to deny her, the unforgettable intro to Gas Pedal by Sage the Gemini sounded through the club. It was like a switch had been flipped inside you, suddenly you were on your feet. Grabbing her hand, you dragged her to the dance floor.

She laughed at your change in mood, “yes!”

You laughed along, the both of you staring at each other and in sync screaming, “h-h-h-h-holy shit!”

This was good, it was good for you to forget, to throw away all the problems of life, and get drunk off your ass.

Which is how you, and your two girlfriends you had gone out with, ended up stumbling down the street, the club long forgotten.

The three of you laughed and giggled, talking about anything and everything that popped into your drunken minds.

“Ooooh! We should prank call someone.” Your friend shouted rather loudly.

You laughed at her, “totally, we could prank Spencer, he was a dick to me earlier. He didn’t even want to come out with us!” You exclaimed, your hands gesturing wildly, and your speech slightly slurred.

The girls gasped, both talking over each other, screaming about how boring and annoying he was.

“I know!” You cried, pulling out your phone to call Spencer.

You hit the call button, putting the phone on speaker, and hushing the giggling girls.

“Y/N?” A voice asked through the phone.

“How did you know it was me?” You asked, a look of bewilderment crossing your face.

Your friends laughed harder, one of them reaching out to smack you on the arm, “you forgot to block your caller ID, idiot!”

“Oops” you giggled.

“Y/N, where the hell are you? It’s one in the morning.” Spencer questioned angrily.

Another laugh escaped your mouth, at this point, everything just seemed funny to you. You looked around the dark street, nothing looked familiar.

“Do you guys know where we are?” You questioned.

A scoff came from the phone, “are you fucking serious?”

The girls giggled one of them letting out a childish “oooh! Someone's in trouble!” The two of them turned leaning on each other as they walked away, letting you have your privacy.

“We were at a club, I’m just not sure where we are now.” You giggled.

“Which club?” Spencer questioned, his tone authoritative, like a disappointed parent.

You combed through your brain for the answer, “uh…”

Spencer let out a deep sigh, and you could imagine him running his hands angrily through his hair. “You can’t keep doing this, Y/N.” You could hear the sound of a car door opening, and you assumed he was coming to find you.

“Actually, I can do whatever I want, it’s my life. And, my life motto is fuck bitches, get money, blow cash.” Anger bubbled in your stomach, who did he think he was telling you what to do?

“Y/N look around you, what do you see?” Spencer asked, ignoring your comment.

“Hmm…” you trailed off, giggling before you finished your sentence, “my two bitches over there!” You hollered, pointing towards your friends, who laughed at your antics. “The fat stacks in my purse, and the club we just passed where I paid way too much for drinks!”

“Y/N, I swear to God…” Spencer muttered.

“C’mon Spence, let me live a little! What are the odds of something bad happening to me? Like, none. I’m with my friends, having fun. Something you seem to never do.” You snapped.

Spencer let out an angry huff, “first of all, that’s not even factual, second, you need to tell me where you are. Or, I’m going to call Garcia, and have her track your phone.”

Well, damn. Your eyes squinted, trying to read the blue street sign. “Uh… Briar, Brian Ln.” You laughed, “what the hell does Ln. mean?”

“Dear God, lane, Y/N, it means lane,” Spencer grunted. You could tell he was tired of your shit.

Luckily for him, the cool night air nipping at your exposed skin began to sober you up. You heard the phone hang up, right as a familiar car pulled up next to you.

You watched as a very pissed off Spencer leaned over from the driver's seat, pushing open the passenger side door. You looked to your friends, who were jokingly saluting you like it was the last time they would see you. “Good luck! We’re catching an Uber! Call us if you live!”

You let out one last laugh before clambering messily into the car, roughly shutting the door, and buckling your seatbelt. Spencer remained quiet, his large hands gripping the steering wheel, and his knuckles turning white. You would be lying if you said the sight wasn’t hot, Spencer was always hot, but, angry Spencer was hot.

The rest of the ride was silent, despite your efforts to try and “jam to some music” Spencer smacked your hand away from the radio every time! It was like he wanted you to sit here in the horrible silence.

As soon as the apartment door closed, the exhaustion washed over you, your limbs felt ten times heavier, and all you wanted to do was sleep. You immediately began your walk to the bathroom to lazily brush your teeth and wash the makeup from your face.

“Oh, so we’re not going to talk about it?” Spencer said, his voice rising slightly.

“Spencer, be quiet, it’s two in the morning.” You groaned out quietly, wiping the last of the makeup from your eyes so you didn’t look like a rabid raccoon. You threw the makeup wipe into the trash, moving past Spencer and into your bedroom.

An angry scoff left his mouth, “seriously?” He followed you out, his eyes glaring holes in the back of your head.

You rolled your eyes, stripping from your dress and opening Spencer’s closet to grab one of his old shirts. “Yes, what do you want me to say? Sorry for having fun?” You slipped the soft fabric over your head, turning around to crawl into bed.

“Please, Spence, we’ll talk about it tomorrow, I’m drunk and tired.” You grumbled, your frazzled mind struggling to pull back the comforter correctly.

Spencer sighed, your actions proving your words, he leaned over, roughly yanking down the comforter for you, “fine.”

You closed your eyes, listening to the sounds of Spencer getting ready for bed. He slipped under the covers, turning his back to you. The only reason he did so was because he knew you couldn’t fall asleep unless you were facing him. Something in you wanted his face to be the last thing you saw at night and the first thing you saw in the morning. Despite his petty actions, the alcohol in your system put you to sleep anyways.

…

You groaned, rolling over onto your side, tugging the warm comforter with you. “Seriously?” Spencer questioned, yanking the comforter back, causing you to roll back onto your other side.

“I need an Advil.” You muttered, squinting slightly to try and block out the sunlight streaming in through the window.

“Why the hell did you get so drunk, Y/N?” He sat up slightly, the comforter sliding down his bare chest.

You scoffed, rolling your eyes, “you think I remember? I’m just as clueless as you.” You pushed the comforter off your body, deciding to leave the warmth of the bed for a bathroom break and some Advil.

Spencer followed suit, standing in the doorway of the bathroom, “Y/N you got lost, you were wandering the streets alone and drunk!”

“I’m sorry, I guess.” You mumbled, your speech slightly distorted as you began brushing your teeth, fighting off the nauseous feeling in your stomach.

“You guess? Y/N, you have no idea how worried I was!” Spencer cried, his hands gesturing wildly as he took a step closer to you.

You set your toothbrush back in its stand, “mhm, the same worry I feel when you overwork yourself 24/7.” You remarked, turning to face him with your arms crossed over your chest.

“That’s different, Y/N! You’re being idiotic, reckless, and immature. I was doing my job.” He spat, spinning on his heel and storming out of the bathroom.

You sighed angrily, continuing to get ready. You knew he was right, you were being immature. Maybe you had let your friends sway you too much, you just wanted to forget Spencer for a night. You hated seeing him so stressed, it broke your heart, and now you were the cause of that stress.

Walking out of the bathroom and into the living room you were met with the sight of Spencer once again hunched over his desk, pencil in hand.

‘Wow, didn’t expect that one.” You muttered sarcastically, walking into the open kitchen, searching the cabinets for Advil.

“Just like I should’ve known you would go out and get wasted with your friends. Seriously, Y/N, what’s it going to take for you to learn you have to grow up?” Spencer slammed his pencil down angrily.

“Why are we even together if I’m too immature for you, huh?” You growled, watching as Spencer angrily stood from his chair, stalking over to you.

Spencer’s hands found your hips, roughly shoving you against the counter, his body pressed against yours.

You felt his hand trail up your back, leaving goosebumps in its wake. “Because, unlike most guys,” his hand laced into your hair, giving it a sharp tug so you were forced to look up at him, “I know how to handle brats like you.” He finished.

A cheeky smile grew on your face, this wasn’t how you imagined this conversation going, but you weren’t complaining.

Spencer chuckled, “oh you think you’re so cute, don’t you?”

Your teeth dug into your bottom lip, his condescending words casting a new atmosphere in the room.

“You’re so quiet now, baby, you weren’t so quiet a minute ago.” His voice was low and as smooth as honey.

A giggle left your mouth, “well, if I talk, will you shut me up?”

Spencer grinned, his grip on your hair loosening, “I think I have a few ideas.”

“I’d love to see them” your hands started a path up his chest, wrapping your arms loosely around his neck.

“I bet you would.” He said, and in an instant, he was gone, he had stepped back and was already walking back to the bedroom.

“Spencer!” You cried, stomping after him like a child who had just been put in timeout.

“Calm down, I’m just getting something.” He said, digging through his work satchel.

You rolled your eyes, your bratty nature getting the best of you, “well you better hurry, or I’ll just take care of myself.”

Your statement sent Spencer into a fit of laughs, and your face scrunched in confusion. “Y-you really don’t know when to quit, do you?” He said between laughs.

“And you’re saying I’m the immature one?” At that moment, all you wanted was for him to fuck the shit out of you, but, apparently, that was not on his agenda.

He walked over to you, much like a predator would to its prey, slow and deliberately. “Just shut up and fu-shit!” You cried out in the middle of your sentence, as he roughly grabbed your arm, spinning you around and pinning you to the wall.

“You’re telling me to shut up? All you’re doing is back talking, and I’m sick of it.” He growled out.

You squirmed in his grip, “then maybe you should stop being an asshole!” His hand grabbed your other arm, yanking it behind your back, “ow, Spencer! Jesus.” Then the faint clinking of metal filled your ears, and chills covered your arms as the cool metal clamped around your wrists.

“Did you just fucking cuff me, Spencer?” You screamed, trying to turn to face him. Surprisingly, he allowed you to, in fact, his hands moved to your hips, helping you.

But the second you faced him, his hand was wrapped around your neck, tight enough to restrict your speech. “I did, in case you can’t tell, you’ve been an absolute brat the past few days. And if you want to go out and act like a whore, I’ll treat you like one.” A primal look washed over his eyes, he wanted to break you, to humiliate you into submission.

Your eyes rolled into the back of your head, your mouth falling open in a silent scream. Spencer chuckled, “oh, you really are a whore. You like it when I choke you, huh?”

His hand pushed back on your neck, shoving you back into the wall, watching as you collapsed into a heap on the floor. You gasped for air, squirming as the handcuffs dug uncomfortably into your back.

Spencer’s hands went to his belt, unbuckling it quickly, “get on your knees, sweetheart.” His voice was soft and gentle, probably because he just choked you and threw you against a wall.

You complied, shifting onto your knees with minimal struggle, despite the restraint of your arms. “Good girl.” Spencer praised, pushing his pants and boxers down thighs, his hard cock springing free.

Your eyes widened, you were shocked at how hard this had made him, sure, you had always had this Dom/Sub dynamic, but you had never been this rough before.

His hand wrapped around his length, giving it a few good pumps. His other hand wrapped your hair in a makeshift ponytail, using it to drag your head towards his cock. “Open, baby.”

Your jaw fell open, his cock filling your mouth, and your lips puckered around him, sucking lightly at the tip. “Oh no, baby, I’m going to fuck your mouth, and you’re going to sit there and let me.”

He pushed down harder against the back of your head, driving his cock further past your lips. You squirmed, gagging slightly as he hit the back of your throat, you tried to pull back for some air, but his hand just pushed your head down further. “That's it, such a good whore” he groaned out.

You took shallow breaths in through your nose, trying your best to relax your throat to take him in further. Tears welled in your eyes, and you tried to pull back once more. Spencer let out a mix of a groan and a chuckle, “no, no, you wanted to act like a whore, you’re going to take it like a whore.”

He pulled back, groaning as your tongue ran over the vein on the underside of his cock, “God, yes, there you go.” He pushed back in, this time pulling back faster, setting a rough pace. You gagged again, more tears falling down your face, mixing with the saliva escaping your mouth.

“Shit, that feels good.” Your eyes flickered up to Spencer's face, just in time to watch him lean his head back with a groan. The sight alone caused you to moan around his cock. “Oh, God” he moaned, his hand pushing your head down one last time, as he stilled, his cock twitching lightly in your mouth, spilling his hot cum.

The sight of him coming undone before you had you moaning around his shaft, milking his orgasm. “Fuck” he breathed out, his chest heaving. You swallowed around him, trying to control your gag reflex as he pulled your head off of his cock.

“C’mon, sweetheart,” he said, his voice once again soft and soothing, his hands wrapped around your shoulders, helping you to your feet.

“Please, Spencer, please” you begged.

Then the soft tone in his voice was gone, replaced with a low condescending tone, “please, what? You want me to make breakfast? Or maybe you want me to go back to working?”

“No, no, no, no” you begged, taking a shaky step towards him, “please, just fuck me.” Your voice came out harsher than expected, albeit still horse from the abuse on your throat.

Spencer’s eyebrows shot up in surprise, a short scoff leaving his mouth, “wow, and here I was thinking you had learned your lesson.”

“No!” You cried, before correcting yourself, “no, I mean no, please fuck me, I’m sorry.” You could feel your arousal soaking through your panties.

“Hmm… much better. Get on the bed.” He stated, turning towards the bed, he clambered on, laying down in the middle, his cock once again hard, and standing at attention.

“B-but, I can’t, not without my arms.” You whined you could only imagine how much of a mess you looked like, drool and tears all over your face, along with your disheveled hair.

You watched as Spencer’s hand wrapped around his cock, stroking leisurely, “that’s a shame, I guess you won’t get to ride me.” He sent you a smirk, watching as you struggled to walk to the bed, the bastard was enjoying this so much. He was addicted to the sight of you, no longer reckless, but more wrecked. Completely at his will.

You fell face forward onto the bed, squirming to try and climb onto it. “How cute.” Spencer voiced, sitting up slightly, his hands wrapped around your biceps, and in one swift tug, he had pulled you onto the bed. “There you go.”

His hands helped you onto your knees, helping you to straddle him. He pulled your panties to the side with one hand, the other spreading your wetness around your folds. He hummed in approval, “almost seems like you’re enjoying this” he teased.

You whined at the friction, your hips grinding down against his hand. He pulled his hand back, reaching down to grab his cock. He lined it up with your entrance, slipping the head in. You both groaned at the feeling, your head falling back in pure bliss. His hands moved to your hips, yanking you down fully onto his length.

“Oh, God, fuck yes.” You moaned, your head leaning forward this time, your hair falling in your face.

Spencer’s hands left your hips, folding behind his head, “if you want to cum so bad, you can do it yourself.”

You swear your jaw fell to the floor, and the tears that once filled your eyes came flooding back. “No, please, Spence, please fuck me, please.” Despite your words, your hips began to rock into his, lifting slightly only to crash back down on his cock.

He groaned lightly, his eyes closing in pleasure, “you were acting like a whore, you’ll cum like a whore.”

“Ugh, shit.” You moaned out, your hips working faster.

“Yes, baby, there you go. Make yourself cum on my cock.” Spencer said through gritted teeth.

Your thighs began to burn, and you knew you couldn’t carry on much longer. You quickened your pace, desperately chasing your orgasm.

“Fuck, such a good whore, my little whore.” Spencer praised, his voice strained with lust.

The burning became too much, and exhaustion hit your body like a train. You collapsed forward, burying your face in Spencer’s neck. “Please, fuck me, please, Spence. I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’ll be good, I promise.” You sobbed, your fresh tears falling onto his shoulder.

“Alright, baby, it’s okay.” He unfolded his hands from behind his head, running them up and down your back soothingly. His hands ran down to your hips, lifting you off of him. “C’mon baby, we’re not done yet, I know you can take it.” He cooed softly.

You pulled your head back, biting down harshly on your lip, you nodded your head, not trusting your voice. “You’re such a pretty girl, and all for me,” Spencer said, his hand coming up to trail over your face affectionately, and you subconsciously leaned into his touch.

“Okay, up.” He said, landing a soft tap to your backside. You giggled lightly. He helped you off of him, and before you could relish in how gentle he was, it was gone. He shoved your face forward into the bed, and you let out a sharp yelp.

The low gravelly tone was back in his voice as he spoke, “You’re such a pathetic little mess for me.” He had moved behind you, his hard cock grinding against your clothed ass.

You turned your face to the side so you could breathe, muttering out a, “please, Spencer, I won’t do it again, I promise.”

His finger hooked in your panties, pulling them to the side, and with one swift motion, he had slammed his cock into you. You screeched, eyes crossing, and mouth falling open. “Fuck, yes! Fuck, me.”

Spencer’s pace was relentless, pounding into you, skin slapping against skin obscenely. He practically growled from behind you, and his hand reached up, latching onto the handcuffs. He pulled you back onto him with each thrust.

You yelped, your wrists ached, and they would definitely be bruised, but the pleasure was too good to tell him to stop. Plus, you doubted he would listen. “Fuck, fuck, Spencer.” You muttered, the tension building in your stomach.

“C-can I cum, please? Please, please?” You begged, drool sliding from the corner of your mouth.

“Cum, cum, whore,” Spencer demanded.

You let out a loud cry, panting as your orgasm coursed through you. Your thighs clamped together, and you cunt clenched around Spencer’s cock. Your back arched further, pressing your breasts into the mattress.

Spencer continued his pace, crashing into you with everything he had. “F-fuck, shit, Y/N, so good.” He stuttered.

At this point you were an incoherent mess, your mind was clouded, all you could focus on was the feeling of Spencer’s cock dragging against your walls.

“Spence, please, I won’t do it again, I promise.” You begged, you couldn’t tell if you were begging him to stop or continue.

He chuckled through a groan, “your right, you won’t do it again,” one of his hands reached around, placing itself on your stomach. He could feel the bulge his cock created every time he thrust into you, “you won’t do it again, because I’m going to cum in you.”

The one-sentence had you spasming around his cock again, moans, and whimpers leaving your mouth. “You won’t be able to go out and drink with your stupid friends if you’re nine months pregnant, bitch.” He gritted out, finally stilling inside you, letting his cum fill you up.

The feeling alone sent you into one last orgasm, your body trembling, and a constant flow of tears cascading down your face.

You knew this wasn’t healthy, you couldn’t make up like this. He was so right, you were being childish and immature. Orgasming inside you was almost his way of telling you you’re not a child, you’re a woman, and you need to act like one. It was on its own, a reality check.

Spencer gave you a few more gentle thrusts, before pulling out, moving quickly off the bed.

You didn’t dare try and move, your body ached, and your wrists had been rubbed raw. Your headache from earlier was back, this time twice as strong, and you groaned at the pain.

“Shh… baby, don’t move.” Spencer was at your side in an instant. You vaguely registered the clinking of metal and the freeing of your wrists.

You whimpered as he slathered lotion on your sore wrists, massaging them gently. When he was done you giggled deliriously to yourself, it was moments like these you cherished. Such moments of utter vulnerability and trust that would only be shared between the two of you.

He left once again, and you slowly rolled onto your back, letting your eyes close momentarily.

Spencer came back shortly, walking back over to the bed. He placed a kiss on your forehead, watching as your eyes fluttered open, “hi” you mumbled.

Spencer laughed, “hi” he leaned down, pressing his lips to yours in a gentle kiss. “C’mon” he mumbled.

One of his arms hooked under your knees, the other around your back, you got the idea, quickly wrapping your weak arms around his neck. He lifted you up, carrying you bridal style into the bathroom. Upon entering you had noticed he already drew a bath, and a smile crept onto your face.

“Here, sweetheart.” He set you down on the toilet, helping you out of your shirt, and pulling off your ruined underwear. He helped you up, holding onto you as you stepped into the water.

You got yourself situated, watching as he stripped from his clothes to join you. You scooted forward, allowing space for him to slip in the bath behind you.

He smiled at your actions, climbing in carefully, he settled behind you, his arms wrapping around you comfortingly. You sighed peacefully, nuzzling into his chest. “I’m sorry if I was too rough with you” he muttered into your hair.

You giggled lightly, “no, I deserved it.” You sank deeper into the water, allowing the warmth to soothe your muscles and the pounding in your head.

“No, Y/N, you were just trying to help me relax,” Spencer said sympathetically.

“Mhm, and I ended up doing the exact opposite, I’m sorry, Spence. I just wanted to forget about you, I can’t stand to see you so stressed.” You turned slightly so you could look at him.

“How about this, you don’t drink so heavily next time, and I’ll take more breaks from work?” Spencer debated, one of his eyebrows raised in question.

You let out a giggle at his expression, leaning back to press a kiss to his perfect lips, “sounds like a deal to me. Plus, who knows when I’ll be able to drink again?” You teased, alluding to the fact that he had come inside you.

Spencer laughed, his arms wrapping loosely around your stomach, “there’s no one I’d rather have carry my child than you.” He ended his statement with a lasting kiss to your lips, pulling back, only to pepper more kisses on your face.

#criminal minds #criminal minds smut #criminalminds #spencer reid #spencer reid smut #spencerreid #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fanfic #matthew gray gubler #i need holy water #please take me to church

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shorkbrian · 4 years

Note

It's Kiri's birthday today and all I can think about is him going to town on his kidnapped darling (because it's his birthday right? and you're the only gift he wants) ooh or he buys a bunch of toys as gifts to himself, but really they're just for him to use on you later! (Not a request I'm just thirsty as hell)

LISTEN

oh my gosh

yes he would ABSOLUTELY use the fact that it’s his birthday to his advantage.

Knocks on the door while you're showering and tells you that he already set out clothes for you on the bed, he’s gonna be waiting in the living room for you and then you two can have breakfast. You don’t mind him choosing your outfits anymore, usually it’s something simple - one of his old t-shirts, a cutesy skirt and top, tiny shorts and a bralette.

But you get out of the shower and there’s lacy lingerie on the bed. You huff and instead choose to throw on some shorts and one of his old t-shirts.

Kiri uses those big ‘ole puppy eyes when you come out, obviously disappointed and irritated that you aren’t wearing what he laid out for you. Asks you to wear it for him, please? it’s his birthday!

When you refuse again, his tone sharpens, eyes narrowing. Threatens punishment if you disobey, tells you to turn around and march your cute little butt back into the bedroom and put on the damn outfit.

You do as he asks.

OR hohoho

You groggily waking up tied to a chair in a dark room, gagged and bound. You can’t move, but you can hear people talking outside the door. When you start screaming for help, the noises pause, before continuing. One voice is louder and obviously more excited that the other voice as the noises get closer.

The door swings open and it’s Bakugou, your coworker. Standing next to him is his best friend, the man that always stops by and goofs off with Bakugou, Kirishima.

Bakugou has this triumphant little smirk on his face, immediately folding his arms across his chest as he watches Kiri. The big redhead’s jaw has dropped to the ground, eyes wider than the moon, frozen in surprise.

Then he’s moving towards you quickly, reeling back and coming at your slower when he sees you startle. You think he’s gonna untie you, pull down the gag and rescue you - you don’t even know what's going on, but Bakugou’s your coworker, of course the two are here to rescue you!

But Kirishima just runs his hands over your shoulders, touches your face softly, feels you legs and lets his palms rest on your thighs.

He asks Bakugou if you’re for him.

Bakugou confirms, you’re Kiri’s birthday gift, Happy birthday.

OR hehehe

Kirishima’s waking you up early in the morning, all bright and excited. You’ve been good lately, and he wants today to be nice, wanna go shopping?

Of course there are rules - don’t talk to anyone, don’t look at anyone, don’t try to leave his side, don’t try to get help - obey, or else.

But it’s the first time you’ve been allowed outside of the house in weeks. You agree to play by his rules.

He takes you to the mall, guides you around the stores, lets you pick out a couple things. The two of you get ice cream, hold hands while you walk around eating it. Kiri says you have a little bit on your chin, and uses that excuse to lick up from your chin and into your mouth, a disgusting display of PDA.

Normal couples things.

Kiri takes you to an, ahem, adult shop.

Tells you that if anything catches your interest, you have to tell him, ‘kay? You just feel sick, keep your head down as you walk behind him, holding his hand like a shy child.

He just chuckles and makes you watch as he picks out toys, asks the assistant about sizes and colors and if a certain toy would be pleasurable for both of you or not.

It’s mentioned while he’s checking out that today is his birthday, and he gets a few complimentary toys thrown in the bag.

When the two of you get home, Kiri forces you down.

You got to have your fun, got to go out and see the world and let other people look at you, he even bought you ice cream! Now be a good girl and let him test out allll the new toys on you, see which ones make you writhe the most.

Ninety percent of the toys are dual-stimulators, meaning he can feel good while you do too. Flavored lubes, vibrating cock rings (he totally would buy a rabbit ear cock ring you can’t tell me he wouldn’t), butterfly vibrators, warming gels, nipple clamps, condoms with bumps and ridges and raised swirls, even a double dildo.

It’s intimidating, and you’re warned against trying to tell Kiri to stop.

You’ll take what he gives you, it’s his birthday after all, and he wants to enjoy his gift(s).

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

I got this ask RIGHT after I posted my lazy, hurried drabble about Kiri’s birthday. I wanted to post something for his birthday but couldn’t decide what to write and I spent so long debating that I didn’t have time to write an actual fic. RIP.

I went for a walk with my doggo (she's so cute she literally bounces over to the leash when it’s walk time) and stewed about this ask the ENTIRE time just unfh there's so much versatility with Kiri he is my MAN ty for this ask and fueling my horn knee brian.

Happy birthday Kirishima if you were real I would give you a hug and like some warm pumpkin bread, you deserve it bby

#yandere #yandere kirishima eijirou #yandere kirishima eijiro #yandere kirishima #kirishima #bnha kirishima #kirishima x y/n #happy birthday Kirishima #Kirishima Eijirou #kirishima thirst #kirishima eijiro x reader

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iffeelscouldkill · 3 years

Text

TSCOSI Week Day 3: Sana / Leadership

A/N: ssshhhhhhh yes I know it’s late but ssssshhhhh let’s just pretend I’m posting this 5/6 days ago

Here, finally, is my fic for Day 3 of TSCOSI Week, on the theme of Sana / Leadership! This takes place in an ambiguous point in Late Season 2. It does not have any bearing on the episode that was released today, which I haven’t even listened to yet, because I was busy trying to finish off this fic 😂😭 Energy and motivation have not been on my side lately. But here we are!

I had two ideas I could have gone with for this day’s prompt, and of course I chose the one I knew would lead to a longer fic, but it was worth it. This type of TSCOSI fic is my favourite to write - pure Rumor/Iris crew fluff and shenanigans. So enjoy!

---

The first clue Sana had that something was amiss was when she woke up.

Rather than waking to the vibration of her comm against her ear (yes, her comm had an alarm function and yes, she slept with it in in case of emergencies. She would not be taking questions at this time), she came to naturally, which she hadn’t done in months. Sana smiled to herself, stretching – and then froze.

She never woke up naturally, and the few times that she did wake during the night she didn’t feel this pleasantly well-rested. What time was it?

“Computer?” Sana spoke aloud to ELLA. “Current on-ship time?”

“The current on-ship time – is – nine – forty-three AM,” ELLA’s voice intoned. Sana sat bolt upright in her bed.

That wasn’t right. There was no way she’d slept through her alarm, and she had it set to recur at the same time every morning. Which meant…

“Sana Tripathi to all crew,” Sana said, opening up a comm line to all of her crewmates’ devices. “Hey, guys. Would someone mind telling me why my alarm didn’t go off this morning?”

“It didn’t go off because I deprogrammed it when I poured you into bed last night at some ungodly hour,” came the reply in Arkady’s deadpan tones, and Sana cringed slightly, regretting opening up a line to the whole crew. “Also, I’ve said this before, but sleeping with your comm in your ear? Pretty unhealthy, and that’s coming from me.”

“Thank you for that feedback, Arkady,” said Sana, with all the dry sarcasm she could muster.

“Prolonged comm usage, even when the comm is idle, has also been known to lead to hearing damage in a small percentage of cases,” put in RJ, and Sana’s eyebrows rose. “Something to do with a low level of uh, high-frequency feedback? So as a best practice, you should really take it out before bed.”

“RJ, are you lecturing me right now?” Sana asked, halfway between deeply amused and indignant.

“Uhhhh- n-no Ma’am! I mean, uh- no, Captain.”

“They’re right, you know,” Violet put in next. “I mean, it really is a small percentage of cases, but as your medic I have to advise you not to leave your comm device in for prolonged periods. Also, that sounds – uncomfortable? For sleeping?”

Sana sighed, resigning herself to being ganged up on by her entire crew. “Duly noted, Violet. Getting back to the subject at hand-”

“Wow, human ears are so fragile!” This, of course, was Krejjh. “They can really be damaged by comm feedback?”

“For a prolonged enough period-” RJ began to explain.

“We don’t all have your ‘superior alien senses’, dude,” put in Brian, laughing. Sana put a hand to her head.

“Guys-”

“I deprogrammed your alarm because you need a break, Captain,” Arkady cut in, almost gently. “Don’t think we didn’t notice that you’ve been pulling extra shifts so that the rest of us could take breaks, while not taking any yourself.”

“The human body is at its best when given time to rest and recover,” Violet added, also gently. “And you’re human too, Captain.”

Sana could feel her face flaming, but she was also extremely touched by the concern the crew were showing her – even though they’d apparently ganged up on her in the process.

“All right, I can admit that the lie-in was appreciated,” she said. “Thank you for the thought, everyone. Krejjh, I’m coming to relieve you in-”

“Oh, no need, Cap’n,” Krejjh interrupted cheerfully. “Crewman Park is taking your shift! He’s relieving me in ten minutes, and then Crewman Jeeter and I are going to play cards.”

“That’s really not necessary,” Sana said, beginning to feel slightly alarmed. “Park, I’m coming up to the cockpit in-”

“Sorry, Captain, but I think you’ve been outnumbered,” Park said, as mildly as ever. “Also, Krejjh promised me fruit jerky in exchange for taking the next shift, and I’m not about to give that up.”

Sana stared at the wall, running a hand over her face. “Park, you hate fruit jerky.”

“This is special fruit jerky,” Park replied, deadly serious. “The really good kind. Enjoy your time off.”

“There must be something I can do,” said Sana, realising she sounded slightly desperate.

“Uh, you can join me and Krejjh for a game of cards in ten minutes?” Brian suggested.

“Or you can relax, Captain,” Violet said, still in that gently amused tone. “It’s for one day. We promise you’ll be back to keeping us all in line tomorrow.”

The whole day?! Sana exclaimed internally. And okay, maybe the way that she balked at the idea of a day of enforced rest said something about the habits she’d fallen into.

She could at least give it a try. The crew had obviously put some thought into this – and it didn’t seem like they were backing down any time soon.

“Maybe I could use a breather,” she admitted aloud, and pretended not to hear someone’s sigh of relief over the comms. “But if any of you need anything…”

“We’ll let you know, Captain,” Arkady promised her, sounding not in the slightest bit sincere. Sana sighed.

“Okay. Sana Tripathi out.”

Or maybe by the afternoon her crewmates would let up, and she could go back to doing something useful.

---

Sana spent the next ten minutes or so trying and failing to relax with an audiobook, one of a handful she’d downloaded off the public net for sleepless nights. It just felt wrong to be lying on her bed doing nothing during the day. Normally she cherished her moments of downtime when she could get them (and okay, they’d been few and far between lately), but this felt… too much. Surely she should be somewhere else, maybe off discussing their next destination with Krejjh after they managed to resupply on Hathor, going over the new truck with Arkady to check it was outfitted to their needs, or maybe putting her head together with Park and RJ to get their analysis of the latest information about Regime movements.

And sure, they didn’t have any immediate jobs for Boss Violet that needed doing, and it was far enough to Hathor that planning their next destination could probably wait a day or two. But that didn’t mean she wasn’t needed. Even when Sana was off-shift, she tended to linger around the crew areas, just keeping an eye out; watching for signs of exhaustion among her crewmates, making sure they weren’t hiding injuries or strain. Injecting a cheery comment here or a calming word there, to keep people’s spirits up.

She was the Captain, and it was her job to look out for her crew. It had been a tough past few weeks, and Sana didn’t want to take this current peace for granted.

Sighing, Sana shut off the audiobook recording and went to the mess hall. Krejjh and Brian were sat at one of the tables, playing a rousing game of something that Krejjh dubbed ‘Reverse Snap’, where the object was to call out when you turned over two cards that were ‘spiritual opposites’. Unsurprisingly, Krejjh had been the one to devise the system of ‘spiritual opposites’, and was therefore given the power to decide whether a play was valid or not, a power that they abused liberally. Brian never seemed to mind; Sana suspected the enjoyment for him was in watching his fiancé get caught up in the game, and laughing at their ridiculous justifications for why they should be allowed to win each round.

Sana declined to get involved in the action herself, but it was a nice change of pace to just sit and spend time with two of her crewmates, without any other purpose beyond having fun. It was true that she didn’t get to do this often enough.

Unfortunately, the game came to a halt after Krejjh lost three consecutive rounds and poutingly declared that Brian must be cheating, even though he’d been faithfully citing their own rules each time he won a hand. “This is boring. Let’s go snuggle in our room and listen to RIFT!” they said.

Brian just smiled and gathered up the cards. “Okay,” he agreed easily. “How’re you feeling, Captain? More relaxed?”

Sana smiled wryly. “I do take downtime, you know. Despite what everyone seems to think.”

“Captain, you sleep with your comm in your ear,” Brian pointed out, mild and easy-going, but unerringly right, as always.

“I wish everyone would stop fixating on that,” Sana grumbled. Brian laughed.

“Look, this whole ‘enforced day off’ thing wasn’t my idea, but I am on board with the concept,” he said. Sana thought about asking him whose idea it had been, but she supposed it didn’t matter. “You deserve to have a break from looking after us all the time, you know? It was the least we could give you.”

Sana sat back in her chair, a little taken aback. She hadn’t been thinking about it in that way – that this was a joint effort by the crew to do something nice for her, to gift her with a day to herself. She’d been so caught up in chafing at the enforced idleness. But they’d all obviously pitched in on this, making sure that her shifts were covered and that everything was taken care of.

“Honestly, being Captain of this crew? It’s no hardship,” she told Brian – and Krejjh, who was hovering by the table – honestly. “But… thank you. It’s an incredibly sweet thought, and I do appreciate it.”

Brian smiled again. “It’s really nothing,” he told her. “See you later, Captain.”

Krejjh gave her a parting salute. “Enjoy your morning, Cap’n Tripathi!” they chirped, and then bounded after Brian.

Which left Sana with some food for thought, but still nothing to do. The mess, for now, was deserted, everyone evidently occupied with their own work or rest. Should she go back to her room, or try to find something to do around the ship? She wondered whether fixing things up and doing handiwork around the ship would be classed as ‘working’ in the eyes of the crew. Sadly, it probably would.

Resigned to giving her audiobook another try, Sana got up from the table and made her way along the corridor to her room. Passing by the medbay, she noticed that the light by the door was green, which meant that it was open, and she could movement from inside. She knocked, wondering if Violet would want a hand – or some company.

“Come in,” Violet called, and Sana pressed the button to open the door and stepped inside. Violet was inside, surrounded by rows and groups of orderly supplies - evidently doing that full inventory she’d been planning. She didn’t look surprised to see Sana.

“Can I… help with anything?” Sana asked. Violet gave her a wry smile.

“I don’t have a dictionary on me, but I’m pretty sure this wouldn’t come under the definition of “relaxation”,” she teased. Sana put her hands up.

“All right, granted. I can just keep you company for a while, then? Unless you prefer to work in silence.”

“Company is welcomed, Captain,” Violet told her. “And actually, there is something I could use a hand with.”

Sana was about to ask what it was, when she followed Violet’s gaze up to a high shelf full of supplies that she’d evidently been unable to clear. “Oh! Sure, I can help with that,” she said, trying not to seem too outwardly pleased at the opportunity to do something. Judging by Violet’s expression, she probably hadn’t succeeded. “Do you want them all down?”

“Yes, please, Captain.”

Sana got to work lifting boxes of what appeared to be empty syringes and some basic first aid supplies – bandages, gauze, cooling packs – down off the shelf and handing them to Violet, who made a noise of satisfaction when she saw what they contained. “So, how’s the overall situation with our med supplies?” Sana asked her. “Anything we need to restock?”

Violet gave her a sidelong glance, and Sana huffed. “If you want me to just turn off the part of my brain that’s concerned about the well-being of this ship, I’ve got some bad news for you.”

Violet laughed a little. “Okay, fair. We’re pretty well-off for med supplies, though I’d like it if we could get some more heptocaldrin – for injuries, not as a… stealth weapon.”

“Can’t it be both?” Sana joked. “I’ll put some feelers out with contacts who have connections with medical suppliers, see if we can get hold of some. – After today,” she added hastily at Violet’s raised eyebrow.

“Thank you,” Violet said, smiling serenely. “Are you planning to stay and watch me sort these?”

“Well, since I have so much leisure time at my disposal today,” Sana said lightly. “Can I sit here?” She gestured to the recliner that sat in the corner, the spiritual successor to the much-loved beanbag chair.

For the first few minutes, neither of them said anything much. It was quite soothing watching Violet work, although Sana itched to actually get involved and help her. She couldn’t help taking note of the condition of the medical supplies as Violet sorted them and made notes on her checklist, thinking about where they could find better-quality suppliers.

“Can I ask you something, Captain?” Violet said. Sana felt almost like she’d been caught out, though Violet’s tone was casual, almost idle; she hadn’t looked up from her work, still methodically sorting supplies.

“Of course,” Sana said.

“You’re always making sure that the six of us clock off and get enough rest. Why don’t you ever do the same for yourself?”

In hindsight, Sana should have known this question was coming. Before today, she likely would have given it a chipper, joking answer (like she did when Violet asked her, a few weeks after their flight from New Jupiter, how long she had been on shift), but now she made herself give the question some proper consideration.

“It’s different when you’re the one in charge,” she said after a little while. “If something goes wrong, if there’s an eventuality that I’ve overlooked, that’s on me. And given our current – status – the consequences of that could be much worse than me going without a break, or a couple hours of sleep.”

Violet gave her a sad smile. “But those are important things. I know it’s easy for me to say, when I don’t have to feel the weight of that responsibility – I couldn’t do what you do. But you’re at your best when you’re well-rested, too. What happens if you overlook something because you’re underslept and you haven’t had a break in days?”

“Well, that’s what I keep you all well-rested for,” Sana said lightly.

“Captain,” Violet said reprovingly.

“Violet,” Sana replied in the same tone. Jokingly, she said, “Are you going to start singing at me to take a break next?”

Violet blinked confusedly at her before the light of understanding dawned in her eyes. “Was that a ‘Hamilton’ reference?”

“You spend enough time with Arkady, you find yourself making opera and musical theatre references without even knowing it,” Sana replied. “You’ll need to watch out for that.”

“I’ll be on my guard,” Violet said. And then, more seriously, “But if it turned out to be a reliable method, then yes, I would sing at you.”

Sana couldn’t help laughing. “Well, luckily, there’s no need. Here I am, taking a break.”

“Uh huh,” was all Violet said, giving her an appropriately sceptical look.

“I am!”

“And if I asked you for your opinion on the overall quality of our med supplies, I’m sure you wouldn’t have any thoughts at all,” Violet said pointedly.

“Well, you can ask,” Sana replied. “But I’d have to tell you that the Captain will get back to you about that tomorrow, when she’s back on the clock.”

“Oh, good to know.”

---

Spending time with Violet in the medbay took up another hour, but before long Sana found herself back in her room and at a loose end again. And okay, maybe she was going about this wrong; she shouldn’t just be looking for ways to kill time all day. Plus, spending time with the crew was nice, but they were all busy with their own jobs, so that didn’t really equate to relaxation. There had to be something she could do by herself – other than listening to that audiobook.

On the Rumor, Sana had spent a lot of her downtime in her room working on sewing or embroidery projects. But lately, she hadn’t really had a project that she could – wait.

Sana sat up straighter on her bed, thinking. When they’d been putting together the ‘shopping list’ of supplies for Hypatia, she’d joked about adding a hammock to the list. She hadn’t seriously gone looking for one, but when she’d been checking out some of the hardware stores near where they made landing, looking for parts for the engine and the ship’s various systems, she’d discovered that they also sold swathes of fabric, rope, and – crucially – wooden poles.

Sana got up and went to the little closet built into the wall of her room. At the back, right where she’d left it, was a bundle of poles and rope with brightly-coloured fabric wrapped around it. Sana pulled out the bundle, breaking into a grin. She hadn’t really expected to find enough time to work on this when she’d bought the materials, though she’d vaguely intended to do a bit here and there. But now was the perfect time to try and put it together.

Sana unrolled the bundle on her floor and got to work.

---

“Incoming call from… Ignatius Campbell. Incoming call from… Ignatius Campbell. Incoming…”

Sana was in the middle of sewing the wooden poles into either end of her hammock fabric when the call came through to her comm link. “Computer, accept call. Campbell, hi!”

“Captain Tripathi!” Campbell’s voice boomed cheerily. “Is this a bad time?”

“It’s a pretty good time, actually,” Sana said as she worked the needle in and out of the fabric. “I’ve got the day off today, so I’m just doing some sewing in my room.”

There was a fractional pause on Campbell’s end. “The day off, huh?” he said. “How’s that going? Not too bored, I hope?”

Sana smiled to herself as she tied a knot in the sewing thread to secure it and then bit off the thread. She had scissors, but they were buried somewhere in the heap of fabric and she couldn’t be bothered to root around for them. “It was a bit slow to start off with, but I’m getting into it now.”

“Gotta say, I can’t believe they actually managed to persuade you to take a whole day out of your schedule to relax,” Campbell said. “The last time I called, you hadn’t slept in – was it thirty-six hours?”

“Thirty-two,” Sana said quietly, to herself.

“-And you were on your sixth cup of coffee – do you even remember that call?”

Sana sighed, part amusement and part resignation. “Yes, I do remember. Sorry for-”

“No, no, it’s fine, I was just – well, it was a bit worrying,” Campbell said. “Anyway, glad you’re taking a break. You sound… better.”

Who knew that everyone had apparently been so concerned for her wellbeing? Sana thought. Then her hand stilled in the middle of threading her needle. Maybe she should have realised how concerning it was to everyone. But she hadn’t thought – well, she guessed she hadn’t noticed that everyone was looking out for her just as much as she’d been trying to look out for them.

She cleared her throat a little. “Well, what can I do for you, Campbell?”

“Oh, nothing in particular,” Campbell replied. “Just wanted to call to catch up, really. Trade some gossip, funny stories about the crew… It’s been a while since you were able to stop by.”

Sana smiled ruefully, and then a thought occurred to her. “So, you just so happened to call to catch up on the one day when I don’t have anything going on? That’s good timing.”

“Uh—” Campbell’s cornered response was immediately telling. “I might’ve heard that – today would be a good time to call—”

Sana huffed in amusement again, rolling the fabric over the pole at the other end of her hammock and lining up the ends of the material. “Be honest, Campbell. Did the crew ask you to check up on me?”

“I called the ship’s comms last night, and Arkady picked up,” Campbell admitted. “I really was calling just to see how you all were, and well, she filled me in on how things had been lately. How they were all planning to cover your shifts and chores today to give you a break. She said that you might be at a loose end, so I offered to call you back around this time. I would’ve called earlier, but Eloise asked me to watch the boys in the morning.”

“How are they?” Sana asked, smiling.

“Oh, as full of energy as ever, I can barely keep up with them,” Campbell said, a smile in his own voice. “Look, I’m sorry if I overstepped-”

“No, it’s – fine, Campbell. Really,” Sana assured him. “I’m touched at how everyone’s been…” She searched for the right phrasing. “I’m touched at how much thought went into this. It really means a lot.”

“What you do means a lot,” Campbell responded, sincere. “To the whole crew. And to… me.”

Sana’s face warmed, and she realised she’d been sitting there, holding the fabric together without doing anything for the past several minutes. She picked up her needle and began on the same neat row of stitches that she’d made at the opposite end. “Thank you, Campbell.”

“It’s nothing, really,” Campbell replied gruffly, and then cleared his throat. “So – any good stories to share?”

“I’ll make you a trade,” Sana offered. “One story about the crew, for every story about your nephews.”

“Oof. You drive a hard bargain, Captain Tripathi, but I accept.”

Sana laughed. “Okay. Well. You might remember how Arkady has an unfortunate habit of leaving some of her weapons holsters in odd places around the ship…”

---

A few hours later, the new hammock – strung up in a corner of the mess where Sana had mounted some sturdy hooks on two adjacent walls – was almost ready. All it needed was a test subject; Sana could of course get in and test it herself, but it would be ideal if she could observe someone else getting into the hammock, so that she could judge how things looked from the outside.

Oddly, the mess hall was deserted, and had been for the past while, which was strange; she would have expected to find at least one or two members of the crew spending time in here. Just then, she spotted RJ, who had entered on the far side of the room and frozen.

“RJ!” she said happily. “You’re the perfect person to test out my new hammock.”

“Uh-” RJ looked around, as if hoping to be rescued by someone, before reluctantly walking over. “You’ve been making a… hammock?”

Sana gestured towards her creation with a flourish. “What do you think?”

RJ’s eyes narrowed as they inspected her handiwork, pulling lightly on the ropes that suspended the hammock. “Is it structurally sound?” they asked doubtfully.

“Why don’t you get in and test it for yourself?” Sana invited them. “Don’t worry about the hooks – they’re the same kind that you find on industrial pulleys. They’ll hold.”

RJ’s eyes flicked towards the doorway. “I’m not really sure if I should be-”

“Oh c’mon, you can take three minutes out of your shift, can’t you?” Sana cajoled them. “Just blame it on me waylaying you.”

RJ laughed a little. “Well – I guess if it’ll only take a minute…” Gingerly, they hoisted themself up onto the hammock, legs dangling over the side, before swivelling round and reclining more fully in the hammock. “Wow, this is actually – really comfortable.”

“Isn’t it? Hammocks are the best,” Sana enthused. “Is the amount of rocking okay?”

“Yeah, it seems fine. It’s not making me seasick, at least,” RJ joked. “You’ve done a pretty good job with the placement of-”

“RJ, there you are,” Park’s voice came from the other side of the mess. “Did you- oh, hi, Captain.”

“Hey, Park,” Sana said easily as Park approached, eyeing the hammock with curiosity. In the hammock, RJ sat back up, a guilty expression on their face. “RJ was being good enough to help me test out this hammock I’ve been making.”

“So I can see,” Park said, neutrally. “Seems like a good use of your time off.”

Sana raised an eyebrow at him, unsure whether the comment was sincere or impeccable sarcasm, but deciding to interpret it as sincere. “Thank you,” she said. “Want to test it out? It would be good to get data from someone taller.”

“I’d love to help, but I really need to borrow RJ,” Park said apologetically. “Sorry, Captain. Maybe after dinner?”

“Of course,” Sana said, as RJ quickly got out of the hammock. She watched Park take their arm and almost steer them away, the two of them conversing in hushed whispers once they were far enough away that they evidently thought she wouldn’t overhear.

Something odd was going on. Sana glanced at the hammock, and then back at the doorway that Park and RJ had just left through. Maybe she should leave it alone – after all, she was off the clock, and she didn’t have to know about everything that was going on on the ship.

Even though Park and RJ were behaving really strangely.

After a few seconds, Sana’s curiosity got the better of her, and she quietly followed.

“Well, I can’t go back through now,” RJ was saying to Park in slightly annoyed tones, as they walked down the corridor. “The Captain will definitely know something’s up. Anyway, I don’t remember seeing a screwdriver in the kitchen.”

A screwdriver? Sana thought, baffled.

“Well, Arkady says there are none in the engine room, and there’s not many other places on the ship left to check,” Park said tiredly. “So, if you’d like to tell her that you weren’t able to look in the kitchen…”

RJ made a reluctant noise. “Fine, what if we-”

Sana, from her vantage point around the corner, saw the two pause in front of the door that led to the medbay. Park raised his hand and knocked on the door in a specific pattern – one long, and three short knocks. After a second, the same knock came back and the door opened.

“Bad news,” Park said as the two entered the medbay. “Sana was in the mess, so RJ wasn’t able to check the kitchen properly.”

Sana moved around the corner until the open door of the medbay was in view, where a baffling sight (and this was coming from someone who’d seen a lot of weird things in her time) greeted her. The medbay observation table had been dragged into the middle of the room, and an array of screwdrivers, knives, and for some reason, spoons cluttered the tabletop. Arkady, looking irritated, was standing on top of the table with a knife in her hand, trying to pry at the cover that enclosed the medbay’s ceiling lamp. Violet, Brian and Krejjh were grouped around the table, looking up at what Arkady was doing; Violet was holding a penknife and shining a small torch in Arkady’s direction, while Krejjh was holding a small hammer, a steel rule and a lightbulb. Brian just looked entertained.

“I think we should check the engine room again,” RJ said. Arkady rolled her eyes.

“I told you, McCabe, I – Captain!”

Instantly, every crew member in the room (except Park, who simply looked resigned) whipped guiltily around, trying in vain to hide what they were doing. Krejjh dropped the steel rule.

“Cap’n Tripathi!” they said cheerily. “You are just in time for our – uh – table performance art routine! We’ve been practicing specially for you!”

“Really?” Sana asked, amused. “Because it looks to me like you were all trying to change a lightbulb. Badly.”

“As it so happens, Act One of our performance-”

“Krejjh, give it a rest,” Arkady said, as Brian laughed behind his hand. “Captain, we’re fine, honestly. We found the replacement bulb, we just need to figure out how to get this damn cover off.”

“And how long have you spent trying to pry it off, so far?” Sana asked.

“It’s been about an hour and a half,” Violet admitted. Arkady’s shoulders slumped.

“I’m almost there, but I think I need a different screwdriver to-”

She stopped as Sana walked over to the table, and held out a hand for Arkady to pull her up. Climbing onto the table, with the help of a steadying hand from Park, Sana took a magnet out of her pocket (she had a lot of things in her pockets) and held it near the rim of the ceiling lamp cover. A tiny screw flew out and clung onto the magnet. Sana held the magnet to the other side of the cover, attracting another screw, and then another, and another. Finally, she twisted the cover, and it popped off the ceiling.

“Lightbulb,” she said.

Krejjh handed her up the lightbulb, and Sana switched the working bulb out for the dead one, before easily replacing the cover and pushing the screws back into place. She dusted her hands and looked around at the crew.

“Well, that was fun. What’s Act Two?”

Violet smiled, and RJ looked impressed, while Brian shook his head. “I told you we should have just asked her.”

Sana looked back at Arkady, who was glowering at the knife she’d been holding like it had personally offended her.

“You could have asked me,” she agreed. “But I get that you were trying not to disturb me after you worked so hard to give me some time off. And, honestly, it’s been one of the best days I can remember for a while. So – thank you all. So much. I know that being the Captain doesn’t make me invincible. Or infallible. And as much as I want to look out for all of you, I need to remember to apply the same thought process to myself as well.” She caught Violet’s eye, and winked.

“In hindsight, it probably shouldn’t have taken a day of forced rest for me to see that, but I’m grateful that you were all willing to go to the trouble of arranging it so that I could. Even to the point of changing lightbulbs.” She smiled.

“And while you’ve all been working hard, I’ve rigged up a pretty awesome hammock in the mess hall, so it would frankly be a crime not to hold a movie night after dinner.”

Krejjh whooped, and Brian and RJ immediately struck up a fierce debate about whether they should watch a historical fantasy drama or a sci-fi epic. Park tiredly followed them out of the room, presumably to act as adult supervision.

“I’d better go make sure that they don’t forget about dinner,” Violet said, and went after them.

Arkady climbed down so that she was sitting on the edge of the table, and after making a space in the collection of cutlery and engineering tools, Sana joined her. For a few moments, neither of them said anything.

“I meant what I said just now,” Sana said, eventually. “I had a really good day, and… it meant a lot that everyone would go to the trouble of doing something like that for me. And of thinking it up and arranging it.”

“Violet did a lot of it,” Arkady said, a little too quickly. “And Park, especially with covering your shifts. And the comm thing was Krejjh’s idea.”

“Really?” asked Sana, amused. “And what about intercepting the call from Campbell that came in last night, making sure it didn’t disturb me, and then arranging for him to call back when you knew I might be going a bit stir-crazy?”

Arkady huffed. “He told you.”

“Of course he did,” Sana said. “Look, I’m sure it was a group effort, but… I couldn’t help thinking that the idea had to have come from someone who knew me pretty well. And maybe someone who’s been more worried about me lately than they wanted to admit.”

Arkady looked away, her shoulders raised in a defensive half-shrug. “I know you’re the Captain. I know you’ve got to look out for us, and – it’s not like I can really talk when it comes to putting in too many hours when I work on something. I don’t think there’s anyone in the crew who hasn’t done that at some point. But you’re always there to kick our asses into taking a break, and-”

“And someone needed to do that for me?” Sana finished for her, wryly.

Arkady looked back at her and snorted. “Pretty much. Thirty-two hours, Sana. With six cups of coffee.”

Sana winced. “In hindsight, that was probably the first red flag.”

“The first?”

“Okay, okay,” Sana said, laughing a little and holding up her hands. “You have my word that I will not let things get to that point again. And if they do, you have my full permission to-”

“-Kick your ass?”

“I was going to say, ‘put me in time-out in my own hammock’, but either works.”

“Speaking of which,” said Arkady, giving Sana a significant look. “Do I need to ask which part of the ship lost its emergency harnesses?”

Sana laughed. “This one is made from actual wood and fabric and rope. Turns out, I had a lot of time on my hands this afternoon…”

“And you used it to build another hammock.”

“It was that, or listen to a really dull audiobook,” Sana said. “I call it an investment in future relaxation! And future movie nights. Good for the whole crew.”

One half of Arkady’s mouth ticked up, and she looked almost wistful. “We haven’t had a movie night since we were on the Rumor.”

“I want to reinstate the tradition,” Sana said. “I think we could all use a bit of a breather every now and again. Today reminded me of that. So – thank you, Kady.”

She was purposely laying it on thick, because winding up your best friend with excessive sentiments that you meant every word of really never got old. She was rewarded when Arkady quickly jumped down from the table. “I think we’ve already done the Feelings Corner for this evening, so if you need me, I’ll just be in the kitchen, helping with dinner.”

“Are you sure you don’t want to hear the latest motivational speech I’ve been working on?” Sana teased her. “I’ve had a lot of time to think about it today. It’s a good one.”

“You know what, I’ve changed my mind,” Arkady said. “You’re not allowed to have days off any more.”

---

A/N: This idea came about as a bit of an inversion of the ‘leadership’ prompt - what if Sana couldn’t be in charge for the day? What would it look like if the crew decided she needed to take some time off? I was really taken with the concept (apparently I just have a thing for members of the crew gently but insistently taking care of Sana), and then I came up with the idea that something goes wrong that Sana would normally be able to fix, and the crew is desperately trying to keep it from Sana while she’s “off-duty”. This image popped into my head of like, the entire crew trying and failing to change a lightbulb, and it was so absurdly perfect that I had to write it xD

It also wound up being a spiritual continuation of the theme we’ve had so far in Season 2 of “Sana is bad at clocking off” - hopefully nothing in Episode 3 has come along and contradicted that xD (Guess I’ll find out!)

#Sana Tripathi #Arkady Patel #Violet Liu #Krejjh #Brian Jeeter #Jin Seon Park #RJ McCabe #TSCOSI #TSCOSI Week #ficlet #Starship Iris season 2 #Starship Iris spoilers #man this did not want to end though #5.8k!!! how

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onyourzeus · 3 years

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12:15 am | kyh

ykcyj ➝ arskyh

title: 12:15am pairing: kang younghyun (youngk of day6) & you genre: fluff, small caps words: 2.4k

author’s note: extra fic for tonight, just all around fluffy bf!yonk getting a call from his drunk s/o in the middle of the night. do enjoy.

any requests? check my pinned post if i’m accepting any at the moment, thanks!

younghyun loves the grind. but if there’s anything else that he looks forward to during a hard and long day of working, it’s the feeling of coming home once he’s done. he makes sure to take off his shoes with as less noise as possible, knowing the fact that his roommates slash bandmates are enjoying their sleeping hours of peace and solitude.

with just a loose shirt and boxers on, he finally feels less restricted and more comfortable in his own skin. the urge to clean himself of sweat, and polluted air that had clung on him with a nice, hot shower is tempting— but the exhaustion in his heavy shoulders and drooping eyelids convince him otherwise.

he’ll hate himself for dirtying his sheets, but tomorrow is sunday which means it’s time to do his laundry, anyway.

tossing his used clothes in the hamper, he prepares his body to get swallowed by the softness of his comforter, and the warm void of his thick blankets. of course, before he passes out entirely tonight, he doesn’t forget to send you a text. the one important thing he shouldn’t miss out on.

really tired. gonna crash in 2 seconds. text you tmr, love you

usually, younghyun would wait until you respond because the many heart emojis that come his way act as his goodnight kiss while the two of you are apart. besides, you normally reply in an instant which is a habit he’s worried about, really, since you need some rest too.

he tries to fight the sleepiness away from his senses, but the more he sits on his bed, back hunched and ready to collapse, the less energy he has left to wait for your message. he frowns, suddenly wondering about your whereabouts. you always tell him first hand if you’re too busy to check your phone throughout the day, and younghyun appreciates the thoughtfulness. even if he couldn’t reply “okay” right away, the two of you have a shared sense of understanding as to how your kind of long distance relationship works by now.

sighing, he eventually puts his phone on the bedside table and plops himself in the covers. it feels really, really good to be in his own personal space now, and younghyun thinks he deserves to rest longer than normal tonight; it was a pretty productive day in the studio. he finished another collab with an artist he’s been meaning to contact for months, and he was glad it came to fruition with great success. he also managed to write a few arrangements for the band’s upcoming album, even if the group decided it was too early to work on it yet.

younghyun believes it’s never too early as long as inspiration is present. if he didn’t so much as write down possible lyrics or harmonies on a piece of paper every day, he’d slowly feel his motivation being sucked out of him. if he was being honest, that was one of his worst fears as an artist, so every day is work for him, it just depends on how much he wants to get done in a day.

as his thoughts fizzle out in his mind, his consciousness brings him to dreamland until a constant vibrating noise disrupts him from his end table. younghyun is about to pull the sheets over his head, thinking nothing of the sound but an annoying notification from something unimportant— but then he remembers you.

with his second guess being right, younghyun has a twinge of guilt in his throat for believing you were not worth it to get up from the coziness of his bed. rubbing his eyes to seem more awake, he picks up the call and greet you in a whisper.

“hi, baby, what’s up?” younghyun says, voice low and hoarse from multiple recordings in the studio.

“cheese,” you mumble on the other end, voice rather solid and awake which causes younghyun to perk up a bit.

“what was that?”

“cheeeeese, brian,” you slur, elongating the repeated word as well as saying it in a higher pitch. immediately, younghyun senses the somewhat incoherent mumble in your nevertheless pretty voice, and judging from the fact you unironically called him by his english name, there was only one explanation: you’re drunk.

he finds himself smiling as he answers, “are you home, babe?” he wasn’t angry about you drinking, he does remember you telling him a few days ago that you might go out with friends but you weren’t sure when. maybe tonight was the night and you just forgot to remind him; no big deal.

“i think so?” you hiccup, followed by a soft chuckle. younghyun’s heart soars at the sound, and it pains him at the same time that he couldn’t be there to hold and take care of you. he leans against the headboard, making himself more comfortable as he listens to you ramble on.

“all i know is that— burp— it was wendy’s birthday… or was it her cousin? cause she was there too, and i never met her before and— oh my god, i don’t even remember her name i’m such a bad new friend— whatever, anyway, it was someone’s celebration and we bar hopped to a lot of places and it became really sweaty and loud and at one point i had a flamingo shot in my hand and and—”

“hold up, flamingo? you mean flaming?” younghyun interjects, chuckling at your jumbled up story. he imagines you shaking your head as you whine at him for interrupting you. “no, nooooo. it was red and fiery and there was a lot of smoke and i’m sure it represented the beautiful, long-legged bird called flemings.”

this time, younghyun couldn’t stop himself from choking out a laugh, and in turn you huff from the other end, and refuse to continue further.

“i’m sorry, go on. please, i’m interested with what happened after you took this mysterious shot that starts with an f.”

“are you sure you won’t laugh?” he hears you quip in a tiny, slurring voice, and it his chest tightens at the thought of making you go through this drunken state alone. younghyun cards through his hair in frustration towards himself, realizing how much he misses you in the moment. he doesn’t want you to stop talking, god if he can only see your lips move in person—

“i promise, babe. so, what happened next?”

“if you say so,” you mutter indignantly, but proceed with the story even though you’re unsure of where it’s going. “um, actually. that was it. i think i took everyone’s flamingo shots in their hands and next thing i remember, wendy or her cousin or whoever it was tucked me in bed and now i’m in the kitchen eating cheese.”

the string of words you had uttered made younghyun feel three emotions in succession: one, impressed that you were able to down more than one shot while he’s not there to monitor you; two, relieved that you confirmed your safety inside your apartment; and three, plain confusion as to why you didn’t stay in bed and instead, eating what you say is cheese while on the call with him.

“can we turn on the videocall?” he asks gently, and you hesitate.

“i don’t look cute right now…”

“you’re always cute. please?” he tries to sound convincing, knowing that you do get insecure when your face is flushed red from the alcohol. even still, he doesn’t tire from complimenting you otherwise.

“okay,” you relent, and younghyun’s heart skips a beat anticipating the sight of you on his phone. he turns on his camera, and he’s appalled at what he sees: daar under eyes, no make up on, and a face that describes weariness to a T. in this case, it should be him who feels insecure looking the way he is, but he’d take the risk if it meant seeing your face.

“hello? is this thing on??” after a few seconds of lag, your screen cleared up and younghyun watches you poke the camera repeatedly. “bri, it’s so dark in here am i even alive right now?”

you never fail to lift his mood up during an exhausting day of activities— as your schedules collide against each other, and there would be less time for moments like right now, younghyun only asks for a few texts sent his way as reassurance that you’re still with him. you always comply, and sometimes younghyun doesn’t get to uphold his side of the commitment during the rare days that he just want to shut off the world.

still, he’ll wake up from a text with your name on it, and the hearts he missed the night before. and he feels whole, and ready to take on the world again.

so this time, younghyun wants to make you feel heard— and seen, as these days work seems to occupy more of his time and burden him with the pressure of exceeding his own expectations. you don’t like seeing him worry about how he’s doing in the industry, so younghyun does his best to appear cheerful and curious in front of you— or his phone, at least.

“yes, you’re very much alive right now, babe. are you really eating cheese at this hour?” he shouldn’t have asked. it was obvious the thing in your hand was, in fact, string cheese being eaten in the most ungodly fashion, but it’s you— and younghyun would rather watch you bite into it, cringing inwardly, instead of passing out with another day longing for your presence.

“let’s eat cheese together,” you suggest, shoving the half-bitten string cheese into the center of the camera as if it was a mic being handed over to younghyun. “do you want to eat cheese with me, bri?” you ask again, tone small but hopeful. you put your hand down, and younghyun finally has a full view of your face.

you had taken your makeup off, judging from the bare skin and slightly smeared lipstick on the side of your lips. your hair was splayed out down your shoulders, a combination of curly and straight strands framing your beautiful face. he surmises you used a curling iron this morning, imagining the frustration on your facial features as you try to make it work.

“briannnn, cheese?”

younghyun focuses on the present, and he notices the glimmer in your eyes amidst the only light coming on your end was his screen’s brightness. he shakes his head slowly which causes you to pout.

“no thank you, baby, you can have it all.”

“but i saved some for you, right here. you get the other half. just like you’re my other half. hehe, get it?”

“yes, baby, that’s very sweet and clever of you.”

“you should hire me as your lyrics… manager. maker? lyrics person? lyricist!” you grin widely after figuring out the right term, and take another bite off the string cheese.

“i think you’re doing a great job at being my girlfriend, though,” younghyun tells you, and it takes a few seconds for those words to process until he hears the eventual whine, and covering of your face with your free hand.

“babe.” no response.

“baaabe.” you mumble something he couldn’t hear. younghyun takes in how adorable you are, and doesn’t pester you for a minute. this bothers you, apparently, as you peek through your fingers and catch him doing one of his silly faces that corners you to laugh abruptly.

“not fair!! you know that works every time,” you whine in defeat, and younghyun can only smile proudly in response.

“you know,” you start off, and younghyun prepares himself for another stream of consciousness on your end before you continue, “even if we’re far away from each other, and that we can’t eat cheese together, you’re still the best boyfriend in the entire galaxy.”

if there’s anything else that younghyun loves apart from the feeling of coming home after work, it’s the feeling of being loved by you.

he waits for you to finish your string cheese, and you argue that you’d like to eat another one. but it was getting late, and younghyun didn’t want to look even more tired on call, so he urges that you two fall asleep while the call goes on.

as he wiggles back inside the covers, he watches you struggle to get your whole body in the comfort of your blanket. his hand holds on the phone as he readies himself to sleep sideways.

“stupid blanket,” you mutter in annoyance, deciding to take one leg out of the warm sheets and at last, feel content on your bed.”that’s better,” you sigh, eyes falling asleep before younghyun.

“comfortable?”

“not really.”

“oh, why not?” younghyun asks.

“you’re not here beside me.” and your answer breaks his heart.

younghyun is pretty good at consoling you with his words at times when you need it, but you beat him to it this time.

“it’s okay though, younghyun, i can get by like this for now. i know—” you yawn in between, “you’re working super hard for the next comeback— actually, you work no matter what project you’re doing, babe. you’re insane, i hope you know that.”

it was younghyun’s turn to blush, and hide his face in the pillow. the drowsiness is making him soft, and weak from denying the truth in your words. he can definitely agree with a lot of people in his life that he needs to take it slow some days. and when it comes from you, he then knows to take that advice seriously.

“i do know that, baby.”

“it’s not bad, though!!” you object, zooming in to your eyes as if to let him know you’re saying it as a good thing. younghyun chuckles again, lifting his face up so he can witness your goofy antics once more.

“i think it’s… really badass. you go younghyun,” you yawn again, dropping the phone as sleep attempts to befall upon you. “sorry, my hand was getting numb.”

“that’s okay, go to sleep now.”

“no, you.”

“that’s literally what we’re trying to do, babe.”

he hears you snicker, and with that he felt it was okay to lay his phone next to him, too. he probably wouldn’t see your face in the morning on the call anymore as his phone wasn’t fully charged at all. however, as he hears you quietly snoring on the other end gives him a sense of security, and the status of his dead phone battery doesn’t matter so much for now.

“i love you,” he whispers into the night, eyes closing in, smile taking him to dreams where he can hold you tight.

“love you more, younghyun.”

#day6 imagines #day6 scenarios #day6 au #day6 x reader #young k imagines #young k scenarios #young k x reader #young k au #brian kang imagines #brian kang scenarios #kang younghyun imagines #kang younghyun scenarios #by:jiae

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desperationandgin · 4 years

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Strawberry Wine - The Final Chapter

Also Read on: AO3

Summary: The end ❤️

A/N: When I started this story, I really didn't think it would take this long to finish! At one point, I posted that it would likely stay an unfinished story forever. But inspiration came in the form of a gifted mood board and playlist, and here we are, at a conclusion. I'm so grateful for everyone who was still interested and came back to read through the end, and I'm so happy that first-time readers have enjoyed it as well!

Thank you to every single person who let me throw the google doc for these chapters at them. To Kris, Danielle, Saba, Beth, Erin, Julia, and Katie - you pushed me in incredible ways and I'm very lucky to have you all. And last but certainly not least, a major shout out of thanks and appreciation to Susan for taking the time to make the playlist that inspired the end of Strawberry Wine. One random gesture meant so much to me that it made me write. I'll always remember that.

Chapter 16: Green on the Vine (Epilogue)

I stood on the front steps of our home, taking in the rolling hills on the horizon beyond the farm. Closing my eyes, I breathed in the sweet smell of fresh-cut hay, relieved to know that Lallybroch’s most recent harvest was finished, making the air feel light and carefree. Around me were the noises of family, children shrieking and laughing. I smiled as I heard a loud giggle of surprise and knew that Jamie had swept up one of them, carrying them like a sack of potatoes.

“Gran!”

I looked up, shielding my eyes from the setting sun as our fourteen-year-old granddaughter made her way up the drive, pushing her bicycle.

“What are you doing here before your parents?” I asked, pleased to see her and reaching out for an embrace once she was close enough. She was taller than her mother, but my dark curls had passed on brilliantly.

“I wanted to talk to you and Grandda. Is he busy?”

I shook my head, looking curiously down at a large manila envelope she held in her hands.

“Never too busy for you,” I promised, leading her inside and calling for Jamie. “Your younger cousins are keeping him entertained.”

When the three of us were settled in the living room, I watched Mandy, realizing she had, unfortunately, also inherited my glass face.

“Is everything alright?” I prodded gently, feeling Jamie tense beside me at the prospect of something being wrong.

“Everything’s fine,” she promised quickly, then hesitated as her hands moved to open the envelope. “Only, I’m doing a project for school. About World War Two.”

Without thinking much of it, my fingers found Jamie’s, holding onto him. It was a lifetime ago, it seemed, those years that we’d gone to war and been separated. As Mandy pulled the contents of her envelope out, I saw my own slanted penmanship and froze, realizing what she held in her hands before she had the chance to explain.

“Mama and I had to prove that these belonged to our family. They’re letters, Gran. The ones ye wrote to Grandda during the war. I wanted to surprise ye wi’ them.” She passed them over and I reached out, holding the weight of our family’s past in my hands and swallowing heavily. For a few seconds, I could say nothing, remembering how desperate my words had become in some of my correspondence.

“I haven’t read any of them,” Mandy promised. “I wasn’t sure how to give them to ye.”

“Darling, you have no idea what a gift this is,” I promised her sincerely, though my voice shook, handing the stack to Jamie so that I could stand and wrap our granddaughter in a hug.

It wasn’t as firm as it once might have been, but I squeezed for all I was worth, pressing a kiss to her temple.

After I released her, she turned to Jamie and bent down to kiss his cheek before disappearing to find her older cousins. Soon, everyone would arrive for Sunday supper, but for now, it was just Jamie and I in the room, the bundle of letters in his lap.

“Ye wrote so many times,” he said quietly, and I pushed a strand of faded copper hair behind his ear.

“I’d wager you wrote just as much. And if my letters were still out there…”

“Aye,” he murmured. “Mine could be, as well. Somewhere.”

It didn’t matter anymore, I thought. We’d shared more between us in half a century than we could have ever fit into letters.

I tugged one of the envelopes free, running my fingers over faded and smeared ink.

“Will ye read it to me?”

“Jamie,” I began, looking at him. “Are you sure?”

He reached for me, and as I curled against his side, I felt him nod and kiss the top of my head. “Aye. I’m sure, Sassenach.”

I pulled out the letter and unfolded it carefully, almost able to hear the sound of practice shots being fired as I wrote it decades ago; the smell of unwashed men and the vibration of military vehicles came back to mind easily. Wetting my lips, I began to read, surprised by how steady my voice was.

“Dearest Jamie,

I’m trying not to panic. I’m trying to calm my own fears by hearing you attempt to soothe me.

‘’Tis war, Sassenach,” you would say if you could. “And letters aren’t exactly a priority.” I know. I know that you’re fighting, that they could send you somewhere with no notice and no way to tell me. But I still can’t help dreading each month that passes without hearing from you. It’s been three now, and I thought perhaps, if you’re too exhausted to write, I could give you something to look forward to instead. When you receive this, if you receive it, you will know I still cherish and want the life we promised one another.

I’ve thought about the number of children you’d like, and four is a good, even number, don’t you think? There’s no telling on gender, but the first boy and our first girl should be named after your father and my mother respectively. Your father will be so proud, toting around his namesake. I hope that my mother would be proud; I think she would. After that, I wouldn’t mind having a wee Jamie. Perhaps even an Elizabeth.

We’ll see.

Today, I met a Scot who was raised in Aberdeen. He sounded so much like you that I wanted to close my eyes and pretend it was. That wouldn’t have been good for the infection in his arm I was attempting to take care of. I wanted it to be you so badly, Jamie.

Where are you?

If I don’t hear anything from you, then I’m going to write to Lallybroch. I don’t want to, I didn’t want to worry your father or Jenny unnecessarily, but if something’s happened to-”

I paused in my reading, the train of thought scribbled through. It was only then that I realized Elizabeth was in the room, her older sister beside her, and their younger brother was cradling our newest grandchild in the doorway.

“Keep going, mama,” Julia encouraged, smiling softly when I looked up at her.

“Aye, Sassenach,” Jamie murmured beside me, squeezing my free hand.

I had no idea how the letter would end, but continued, keeping hold of Jamie while the paper shook slightly as I read once more.

“When the war is over, we’ll pick up our pieces and begin again, Jamie. Wherever we happen to be, whatever we’ve seen and done, we’ll still have our adventures, our life. Think of the days you’ll come home only to find me waiting for you, a child in my arms, and later, children running to greet you. Our home will be warm and filled with a life the war couldn’t take from us. It’s trying, I know it is, but I refuse to give up on what we planned. What we’ve dreamed of together. When this letter reaches you, whether you write back or not, know that you promised me, James Fraser.

Don’t let this be the one you break.

I love you. I will always love you.”

I finished quietly, folding the letter back into the envelope and remembering how desperate I’d been for anything, any scrap of news, any information on where he might have been.

“You did it, Mam. You and da.”

I turned to look at Brian, giving our son a watery, wobbly smile.

“Listen, Sassenach,” Jamie urged, pulling me close so that I could rest my head on his shoulder. As his fingers moved through the silver of my curls, I closed my eyes and did as he asked. There was the quiet fussing of Brian’s daughter, Clara, and the quiet but thumping bass of one of Julia’s children listening to music too loudly a room over. Each one of our hopes and dreams stood under this roof, and I smiled as I let it bring me peace.

I knew for certain, even after all of the pain, death, and heartbreak we’d endured...in the end, the war had taken nothing from us.

It had only made us stronger.

#outlander #outlander fic #jamie x claire #strawberry wine #my fic

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lonelyreputation · 4 years

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Different (part two)

A/N: Surprise!! I’m posting earlier than I thought I would! And we’re back with the angst!! Straight angst! Like literally all of this is angst there’s nothing else. Also! I just started a tag list, so send me a message if you want to be added!!

Don’t we all just love some unrequited love?? 💞 💖

Also, your support has been so tremendous, thank you guys all so much, I love you to the moon and to Saturn 😉 💫 THANKS A MILLION! Reblogs are never expected, but always appreciated!! 🤗💞🌻

REQUEST/PROMPT: People talking a room away & Fighting the urge to cry & Unrequited Love

Part ONE | Let’s Chat!! | MASTERLIST

Warnings: Few swear words, some self-doubt, and ANGST!!!

Word Count: 5.7K

Shawn’s texts are bold and italicized & your texts are in italics

You promptly left the party, the broken glass left unattended on the floor, and silently cried the whole way back to your apartment with your arms hugging tight around your stomach.

Opening the door to your apartment wasn’t an easy task. Tears clouded your vision as you fumbled to find the right key to open the door. You had bit the inside of your cheek repeatedly on the walk home causing you to taste metallic every time you swallowed back a sob. Your chin wobbled, and just when you were about to give up and sit out in the hallway to cry, your roommate opened the door with a questioning look.

“How was the…party?”

She’s different––She’s just a friend––I don’t love her.

You brushed past her, “Fantastic.” You said as a few more tears fell from your eyes and your voice cracked.

She seemed to have caught the sarcasm behind your voice that alluded to the party being anything but fantastic. Your bloodshot eyes and wobbly chin also gave her a good indication that you left the party early.

There weren’t anymore words exchanged between the two of you as you quickly walked to your room to finally break down. You held a hand to your chest, clutching your necklace, a birthday present from Shawn, in a fist as you gasped out for air.

You’re different. You’re just a friend. He doesn’t love you.

You had a hand on the handle of your bathroom door as you harshly banged against it with your shoulder to open it wide. Once the door was closed, and you felt safe from the world around you, as you leaned up against the door and let out a cry of desperation. You were so sure that Shawn was the love of your life. You were positive that he had felt something––maybe not love––but some type of feelings for you that were stronger than friendship.

You slid down the door until you were sitting on the cold tiles, the only thing giving you a feeling other than absolute heartbreak. You tried your best to keep your cries quiet, clenching your teeth and hissing out a breath every now and then in order not to draw anymore attention from your roommate. You could physically feel your chest caving in on your heart.

The necklace that was still being held tightly in your hand burned your exposed skin. Hastily, you unclasped it from your neck, and heard the little dink of a sound as the soft metal material of the necklace collided against the tile.

You bent your knees and hugged your legs close to your chest, failing at sniffling back your sobs as you rested your forehead on top of your knees. You were second guessing every interaction you had with Shawn; the soft smiles from across a crowded room, him randomly sending you flowers when he knew you were stressed, how he touched you only a few hours ago.

Who said anything about love?

You tried to hold back something between a sob and a shout as you heard Brian’s question repeat over and over in your head. You felt hot all over your body, and most of all, you felt like a fool for listening to Olivia’s advice about confessing your true feelings to your best friend. The back of your head started to throb and the ache of your breaking heart was having a tortuous physical effect on the rest of your body.

Buzz. Buzz.

You lifted your head to see your phone vibrating against the tile, moving ever so slightly with every ring. A new wave of tears started to fall over as you saw Shawn’s contact picture; a picture you took of him asleep on the couch after the first time you watched 10 Things I Hate About You. You let the call go unanswered. Once you saw his picture disappear, you let out a shaky breath, but it didn’t last long because his picture showed up on your phone again.

You screened his call again.

Thankfully, he didn’t try calling you again, but your phone continued to buzz indicating that a few text messages were being received. You bit your lip as you brought your arm up to your nose to wipe away the excess of tears that mixed with your runny nose and read the text messages.

Where are you? I came back to the kitchen and didn’t see you?

Are you still here? Y/n?

Liv just told me you were feeling sick, do you need anything? I can come around tomorrow morning. Love you & hope you feel better xx

Just like your necklace, you slid your phone across the bathroom tile for it to be as far away from you.

Love you? The malicious part of your brain spoke up, ha. He even said it himself, he’s never loved you.

And again, the sane part of your mind didn’t have a rebuttal.

///

It had been five days since you eavesdropped on Shawn and Brian’s conversation. Five days since Shawn said he didn’t love you. Five dreadfully long days since your best friend broke your heart and you had to pretend like everything was fine.

Everything was not fine.

On the first day, you left his texts unanswered and told your roommate to turn him away if he showed up at your door. Day two, you respond to his texts saying you had a migraine and couldn’t look at any bright lights, your excuse for not responding to any of his messages. Day three, he came over to your apartment with pizza, two big fuzzy blankets, and your favorite Pixar movie because, you always watch Pixar when you’re feeling sick, I know you, he said.

I know you; but he didn’t know that you were purposefully avoiding him.

On day four, you were back over at Shawn’s apartment with Brian. Like you had done earlier when Shawn had just come home from tour, the three of you were out on his deck with the fire going. Brian was in the single chair again while you and Shawn were sharing the couch. Except this time, your head wasn’t nestled into his chest, you were sitting on the complete opposite end with your feet tucked under you.

Brian and Shawn both had alcoholic drinks of their choice while you had a glass of water.

“So, Shawn,” Brian quickly looked over at you for a brief moment before he looked at the boy in question, “Write any good songs?”

You wrapped the blanket tighter around your body, using it as a shield for whatever his answer would be, as you took a sip of your water. You stared at the CN Tower, pretending like you weren’t interested in their conversation.

You felt Shawn’s eyes glance at your figure for a second before he took a sip of his drink and nodded, “A few.”

“Oh c’mon,” Brian let out a little laugh as he looked at you until you gave him a roll of his eyes, “It’s just us––It’s not like we’re gonna leak them.”

“Y/n heard one of them.”

Brian raised his eyebrows, “Did she now?”

They both expected you to give your input, but you stayed silent, pretending to be enamored with the city lights.

When Brian noticed that his two best friends weren’t going to say anything, he cleared his throat, “And what did you think of it?”

With a question directed at you, you knew you couldn’t avoid contributing to any part of the conversation any longer. You shot Brian a glare, as you took a sip of water to stall some time, “It was nice.”

Brian threw his head back in laughter at your simple answer and Shawn stared at you with a questioning tilt of his head. You knew that he was thinking back to your taco night when he nervously played the song for you. Where you praised him for his songwriting abilities and said it was your favorite song he had ever written. But the more you thought back on that night, the more you noticed how distracted he was.

He didn’t want to mix the spices, and while you measured the different seasonings, you would glance up at him to see his thumbs rapidly moving across the screen of his phone. You remember asking him what was so important on his phone when you caught him smiling down at it. And he didn’t tell you any specific stories from when he was on tour, which were always a topic of discussion on taco night. He specifically brushed away your questions about Los Angeles.

“There would be a million girls out there who would die to listen to an unreleased Shawn Mendes song and all you say is that it’s nice?”

You shrugged your shoulders and took another sip of water, hoping it would ease the familiar scratchiness at the back of your throat, “Yeah.”

Just thinking about the song that was so clearly written for you made you want to cry like you did that night you found out Shawn didn’t love you. When you first heard the song, you wanted that sweet guitar melody ingrained in your mind forever. You wanted those lyrics tattooed somewhere on your body that was only visible to you. He had sung about having a different kind of love for you.

Different.

You finished your water and excused yourself to get a refill with a sniffle as you went into his kitchen, wiping away a few stubborn tears that fell.

But the fifth day…The fifth day was worse than the day you overheard Shawn say he didn’t love you.

You were out grocery shopping when you felt your phone buzz in your back pocket. Unlocking it, you saw a text from Shawn; Busy?

Out food shopping, you texted back, everything alright?

I’m bored.

You let out a small laugh at his response, pushing your cart out of the aisle you were in and stood off to the side, not wanting to disrupt anyone’s shopping habits.

Poor you, you texted back, I’m sure you’re really missing the tour life right now.

Nah, he texted back instantly, just missing you.

Your heart soared with happiness, but only for a split second. He didn’t see you in the same way you saw him. He didn’t look at you like you hung the stars in the sky. He didn’t think of you as being someone he wanted to spend the rest of his life with.

With a frown, your thumbs moved quickly across the screen, Boo hoo.

Come over.

You weren’t expecting him to be so direct. You hadn’t hung out alone since taco night and you weren’t sure you were strong enough to keep your composure together.

And don’t say you’re busy.

You only go food shopping when you have absolutely nothing to do.

Your thumbs stopped typing out your response. Maybe, you thought to yourself, just maybe he does know you as well as you knew him.

Let me check out and drop the bags off at my place then I’ll head over.

You felt your stomach churn with anxiety as you stared at the lone smiley face. He usually texted with emojis, so you knew something was off when he was using simple keyboard emoticons. It only made you that much more nervous to be alone with him.

It didn’t take long to finish gathering what you needed and then headed to check out. You didn’t have too much stuff, so it was easy to carry your reusable bags from the store front to the car without your cart. Once your bags were placed in the back, and you were in the driver’s seat, you placed both hands on the steering wheel, gripping the leather material until your knuckles turned a few shades lighter than your skin tone, letting out a deep breath.

You told yourself you didn’t have a reason to be nervous. Deep breath in. You were the one who had the problem with Shawn, not the other way around, he didn't know you were in love with him. Deep breath out.

Turning the key in your car took a little more effort than normal because you could feel your stomach tell you not to go over to Shawn’s place. Your gut had a feeling that something wasn’t right. But he was still your best friend, you still loved him, and you would do anything to have him in your life.

You drove home, quickly placing your groceries away, and then walked over to Shawn’s apartment. Sure, it would’ve been easier to drive, but you couldn’t pass up the sweet summer air that whisked down the streets of Toronto.

Are you still coming?

A smile crept onto your face as you sent him an eye roll emoji, At the corner waiting to cross the street. Be there in five.

Instead of your stomach flipping with summersaults, it flipped with anxiety. You shook your hands to free yourself of the nerves you felt inside, and smiled at the doorman who greeted you by name. You made your way to the elevator, pressing the button to Shawn’s floor.

You were always bouncing with excitement riding the elevator up to Shawn’s place because it meant that you were going to see him. But now your leg bounced with anxiety and the ride up seemed to take hours.

Once on the floor, you made the journey to Shawn’s door, and before you could knock, Shawn swung open the door with a smile on his face. You couldn’t even get a greeting out as he wrapped his arms tightly around you, leaning his cheek on top of your head.

You felt the familiar feeling of warmth that you associated with him as you felt his heartbeat. Out of instinct, you brought your arms around his torso and hugged him back just as tightly, breathing in his scent.

“C’mon,” Shawn squeezed you tight one last time before unraveling his arms from around you, letting his hand graze your down your arm to your hand where he intertwined your fingers, “Brian will be here in like an hour and I want you to myself for a bit.”

With your hand in his, he pulled you inside his apartment and you looked at the back of his head like he was leading you to an eternity of happiness. As he pulled you past the kitchen and into the living room, he peered over his shoulder and offered you a shy smile.

Oh yes, you thought to yourself, you were still hopelessly in love with him; ready to bend yourself however which way just to see him smile.

He flopped onto the couch, with you standing above him, but with a gentle tug of your hand, you were falling into his chest with a laugh. You placed a hand on his chest, feeling the familiar warmth of his skin through his cotton t-shirt seep into you. You looked up at him through your eyelashes, his chest still vibrating with laughter, and you thought that even though he might like someone else, he may just love you.

“Wanna watch La La Land?”

His question brought you out of your daydream, “I thought you didn’t like the ending?”

Shawn shrugged his shoulders as he reached for the remote, the movie already queued up, “Haven’t seen it in a while.”

You slowly nodded your head, using your hand that was on his chest to push yourself off him. But he caught your wrist in his hand, “Stay.”

With a smile slowly tugging at the corners of your lips, you nodded and laid your head on his chest, sliding your legs between his, as you felt his heartbeat accelerate. Around thirty minutes into the film, you felt Shawn bring one of his hands up to your head, softly running the tips of his fingers over your hair.

It was the little gestures that made you fall in love with your best friend. How he always managed to relax you with a hand on your shoulder. How he would listen intently over the phone when he was hundreds of miles away. And how when you would be out on a date, he would call you after texting him your codeword for an excuse to leave. But even if the date was going well, you would still text him to call, because he wasn’t the one sitting across from you.

As if you had plunged head first into the ocean, thoughts were swimming around in your mind; his touches were comforting––you felt a spark tingle its way through your veins every time he touched you––you were never afraid to be yourself around him.

But soon the thoughts that made you feel like you were floating above the surface, suddenly swallowed you whole, and the thoughts only got worse, feeling as if you were thrashing around the water, reaching your hands up to break through to the surface; this is all you’ll ever be to him––You won’t ever have the joy of graduating to something more––Soon his gentle touches and soft eyes will be reserved for someone else––Someone he’s capable of loving––He’ll never want you in the way you want him.

As he repeated his movements of touching your hair, as if he didn’t give it a second thought, it was the only thing you were capable of giving your full attention to. The warmth you usually felt now felt like a burning sensation as it spread like a wildfire throughout your body.

You lifted your head from his chest abruptly before his hand could caress your hair once more. Shawn was startled by your sudden movement and looked up at you with a raised eyebrow.

“I––Sorry, I––” you felt your chin wobble and you knew that you had to get away from him, “I have––I’m gonna go to the bathroom.”

You untangled your legs from his as you stumbled to get up, bringing your hand up to cover your mouth when your back was to him. You could hear his distant voice asking if you wanted him to pause the film as you skidded across his floor to the bathroom. You didn’t bother replying to him, already knowing how the film played out.

You tried to even out your breathing, soft gasps emitting from your lips as to not alert Shawn that you were having a breakdown in his bathroom. You thought you could be friends with him, you were trying everything to keep him in your life, but it was taking too much of a toll on your feelings.

He loves you like a best friend, the rational part of your brain tried to make sense of your heartbreak.

But that’s not enough, the irrational part of your mind yelled over its counterpart, you’ll never be enough.

Your hands gripped the granite countertop so tight that your knuckles turned a few shades lighter than your original skin tone. The coolness of the granite didn’t do anything to soothe the leftover burning you felt course through your veins from Shawn’s touches. You lifted your head to look in the mirror and noticed that the reflection of the girl looking back at you was a heartbroken stranger.

Turning the sink on, you ran your hands under the cold water, cupping your hands under the faucet and splashing your face with water to cover up the redness of your eyes. You grabbed a towel from the rack hanging on the wall after you had shut the water off and dried your hands. You didn’t think you could last through the rest of the movie without breaking down, so you turned on your heel and opened the door, prepared to tell Shawn you had a headache and wanted to go home.

But when you opened the door, you were met with Shawn leaning against the wall across the hallway, arms crossed over his chest, with a concerned, yet irked, look in his eyes.

“What’s wrong?”

HIs question was direct, and you had the truth banging from the inside of your skull, begging to be released; I love you––I want to be more than best friends––It’s killing me to not tell you how I feel––But I know you don’t love me.

“Nothing,” you tried to squash your thoughts, but it only made your headache hurt more, “Listen, I––”

“Why aren’t you wearing your necklace?”

Another direct question that left you speechless. You slowly brought your hand up to your chest, fingers resting just beneath your collarbone, where your necklace had taken up a home everyday since Shawn gave it to you four years ago.

“I forgot––I forgot to put it on this morning.”

“I know you sleep with it on,” Shawn’s voice was monotone as he deflected your excuses and shot you another direct question, “Why’d you take it off?”

A flashback of you ripping the necklace off your skin and throwing it across your bathroom as tears heavily flowed down your face flashed through your mind. The sound it made as it hit the tile floor echoing in your thoughts.

You bit the inside of your cheek, trying to suppress the heartbreak you felt on that night down, “You’re delusional, if you’re so sure I sleep with it on––”

“Y/n,” his voice was dangerously low, “Why did you take the necklace off.”

His jaw was clenched to hold back his rage of anger. And your jaw was clenched to hold back your waterfall of tears.

“Because I did,” you scoffed at Shawn, sending him a glare, as you walked past him, “It’s just a necklace.”

It’s more than a necklace, the rational part of your mind whispered, both of you know that it’s so much more than just a necklace.

The irrational part of your brain stayed mute.

Before you could successfully make it down the hallway, Shawn circled a hand around your wrist, “Don’t feed me that bull––”

You were fed up with him. You were fed up with his teasing touches, fed up with the caring words he whispered to you in secret, fed up with how he thought he knew you better than anyone else. Because if he really knew you––knew how your heart beat faster just for him––then you wouldn’t be in this position.

You ripped your wrist out of his hold and spun around, “Shawn, I love you!”

Your tone was scathing, but at the same time it was a cry for help. And the only person who would be able to offer you assistance was frozen to the ground, lips slightly parted, but his eyes stayed the same. You expected his eyes to be wide in shock, you expected him to be thrown off by your statement, but he didn’t seem fazed.

“I––I’ve loved you for so long and I can’t––Everything just hurts,” your voice cracked at the end of your sentence, as your eyes maintained contact with the boy who you would give everything up for, “You act like you know me, but if you really did, then you’d know how much my heart is breaking whenever I’m around you.”

You already knew that he didn’t love back, you had already gone through this heartbreak, but seeing him trying to figure out the words that would no doubt ruin your friendship, it was as if your first heartbreak felt like a little scrape on the knee.

He brought both hands up to rub his face, taking in a deep breath, as he looked up toward the ceiling, “Y/n,” his voice was strained, but not in the way you felt your throat closing up from the threat of tears, he was holding back resentment, “That––Can’t––You don’t love me––Not––Not like…That.”

Without any remorse, it was as if he had ripped your heart apart like you were just a piece of scrap paper with lyrics he didn’t think were good enough. Not good enough, your mind echoed, you’re not good enough for him.

He had already witnessed you confiding your deepest secret to him. And you didn’t think he deserved to witness the aftermath of your world crumbling.

You understood what the collapse of the Roman Empire must’ve felt like.

Tears were already falling fast down your cheeks, and you spun around, not bothering to say anything else to him because he didn’t warrant any more of your words after he so carelessly threw away your confession.

You made it to his kitchen when you heard his pleading voice, “Wait––” And when you felt the fire of his skin on your skin, it was a pain you never wanted to experience again.

Before he could enclose his hand around your wrist for a third time today, you snatched your arm away, cradling your wrist into your chest like you were trying to heal a wound. You had an internal wound that you didn’t think would go away any time soon.

“If you can’t––If you don’t want to be with me,” You choked out a sob as you stared into his brown eyes; it was the first time you saw genuine heartbreak in his eyes. And part of you was glad that he was experiencing a fraction of the pain he put you through over the past five days, “I can’t…we can’t be friends.”

His exasperated exterior fell just as fast as his face, “Don’t say that,” he took a few steps forward and reached out a hand, but stopped it mid-way and left it hanging in the air, knowing you would push him away again, “You don’t mean that––”

“I––Shawn, I can’t––” your voice was high-pitched as your bottom lip quivered, the reality of the situation becoming all too real for the both of you, “It’s been so hard these past few years––”

“Years?”

You ignored his question as another one of your secrets slipped past your trembling lips, “It’s just too––too hard right now,” you hiccuped, “I need–sp––space.”

“But I––I just got you back––You’re my best friend. I don’t want space from you.”

You did your best to ignore the tears welling up in the corner of his eyes as you tasted your own salty tears as you spoke, “You have Brian––”

“Don’t,” his voice was rigid as the first of his tears fell from his eyes. He harshly brushed the top of his palm across his cheek to rid himself of his falling tears. But the more he kept wiping away his tears, more fell from his eyes, “You know that our friendship is different than what we have with anyone else.”

“Exactly!” You threw your hands up in the air, letting out a humorless laugh, “It’s different because we’re different! We’re different around each other because there’s something more between us––”

“We’re just friends!” Shawn raised his voice over yours.

It was silent after that as you tried to keep your sniffles to a minimum, gulping your emotions down your cracked throat. You had made your feelings about him clear. And he had made his feelings about you clear; friends. Just friends.

“What,” he smacked his lips together, his next question coming out in a whisper, “What did I do wrong to make you think of me––of us––to be more than friends?”

What did he not do? That was the real question that had been floating around your head for years. How could you not fall in love with the cadence of his voice? How could you resist the invisible pull you felt toward him that only grew stronger since the first time you said hello? How could you refuse to let yourself fall in love for someone you were so sure was made for you?

You offered him the best smile you could through your tears, “You did…Nothing wrong,” you let out a whisper of a laugh as you stared into his eyes that were once so comforting. His eyes used to bring you so much joy, but now they held with just as much heartbreak as yours, “You were just…Yourself.”

“But you––Why tell me this––Why are you destroying our friendship when you already knew I didn’t love you back?”

“I didn’t want to tell you––Wait,” you had felt your heart stop for the boy in front of you a million times. Your heart had stopped for him when he gave you your star sign constellation as a necklace for a present. Your heart had stopped for him when he pointed at you when he was performing on stage.

But never had it stopped for this long as you awaited his answer, “How did you know that I knew?”

Shawn’s red eyes grew wide, not expecting for his little secret to slip out. He tried stammering out an excuse through his tears, but just like he had deflected your excuses about not wearing your necklace, you weren’t putting up with him. You had an inclination as to how he knew that you knew he didn’t feel the same way about you. But you were praying that you were wrong.

God, you hoped you were wrong.

“Shawn,” your voice cracked as you looked at him, he was shaking his head as if begging you not to ask your next question, “How did you know?”

“Y/n––”

“How.”

Shawn let out a breath so shaky that you felt yourself lose balance, “At the party, five days ago…” his eyes were begging you to have him stop his explanation, but you shook your head, wanting him to twist the knife he had already plunged so deep into your heart.

“The bathroom door was open and––and I saw you form the corner of my eye and when Brian asked me about you––I thought if you heard I didn’t love you, instead of me saying it to you, that we could go back to being normal.”

He knew you were listening. He knew you weren’t okay when he asked you so delicately, so full of obliviousness, as you cut yourself with shards of broken glass. And he knowingly left you in the kitchen after he knew he had broken your heart.

Turns out, he did know you just as well as you thought.

“You…You knew I was listening?”

The nod of his head was the final hit. It felt as if a hawk had swooped into your heart, talons digging in deep, thrashing until they successfully picked your heart apart piece by piece, savoring every moment of your destruction.

You didn’t think it was possible to feel even more hurt than you did that night when you listened to him in the bathroom say so confidently that he didn’t love you. He said it with so much conviction––I don’t love her––knowing that you were just a few feet away from him, clearly able to hear him break your heart.

His presence, one that you yearned for during every second of the day you weren’t with him, was now something that repulsed you.

How did your supposed best friend have so little respect for you?

Without a second thought other than to get the hell out of his apartment, you dashed behind him to the living room to pick your phone up from the coffee table, haphazardly slid your sneakers on, and tucked the laces under the tongue of the shoe. Your hands were shaking as you rushed past his standstill figure in the kitchen.

Your hand was on the doorknob, about to turn it, but his voice cut you off.

“Don’t––Y/n, I’m sorry––”

The tips of his fingers grazed your elbow, just as gently as they caressed your hair earlier, but you opened the door, jumping out into the hallway to put as much distance between the two of you as possible.

“Fucking––Stay away from me.”

You slammed the door on his tearstained face and ran down the hallway. You ran to the very end, skipping the elevator as you yanked the door to the stairs open. Your palms were sweating, heart beating out of control, as you raced down the stairs out of breath. Shawn had made you feel all those things before, but never had you felt them in such a turmoil of pain, you had previously only felt them out of the nervousness of love for him.

You made it to the lobby, praying that Shawn hadn’t taken the elevator down to stop you from leaving. When you saw that the coast was clear, you avoided eye contact with the doorman, as you quickly walked past him.

“Y/n?”

You whipped your head around, eyes wide, as you saw Brian stood a few feet away from you with a concerned look on his face.

His eyes started at your face, taking in your splotchy appearance, then his eyes darted to your shaky hands, and then back up to your red eyes, where tears were still falling.

He looked at you with a regretful smile, “You told him?”

You sniffed back the tears and brought your forearm to wipe under your nose, “I don’t––Told him what?”

He gave you a pointed stare, you had never confided in Brian about your feelings for Shawn, but you always had a feeling that he knew something.

“Did he tell you?”

You screwed your eyes tight wanting to erase everything you had heard in the last hour.

When you opened your eyes, Brian’s mournful stare was still on you, “He told me a lot of things.” He perked up at that piece of information. There was a glint of glee in his eyes, but it was soon replaced with confusion as you said your next sentence, “Keep him from coming after me.”

“What do you––”

The ding of the elevator and a desperate shout of a voice that had just destroyed your heart called out your name, cut him off, “Y/n!”

Your body went into fight or flight mode, and you chose flight as your petrified body sprinted out the glass door of his building.

And just like the night after the party, you walked home from Shawn’s place to your apartment, arms hugging your stomach for some sort of comfort, tears clouding your vision. You miserably failed to keep your cries at bay as you publicly showcased your heartbreak as gray clouds rolled in and thunder boomed from the distance.

-----

TAG LIST

@fallinallincurls @adelaidestreets @alina--jpeg @5-seconds-of-mendes @particularnarry @now-that-i-saw-u

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barnesandrogersfanfics · 4 years

Text

Ocean Eyes - Part 5

To say i didn't get much sleep last night was an understatement! I had spent a couple hours on the phone to my mom telling her about Chris showing up and now knowing about Mason while having a couple glasses of wine. When i finally did go to bed i couldn't switch my brain off, the last time i had looked at the time it was nearly 4:30am and i knew Mason would be getting up around 6! It felt like i had just closed my eyes when that darling boy of mine came jumping on the bed to wake me up.

After breakfast we both got ready and headed out to the car, i needed to go to the store to get some groceries (if i had guests coming round i should really have something to offer them).

"Oh nooo.... mom creepy Brian is coming out" Mason said quietly.

"Sshhh i told you not to call him that" i chuckled as we rushed to get into the car before Brian could reach us.

"Thats what you and aunt Hannah call him though" he rolled his eyes like i was crazy as i reversed out of the drive.

"Only when we're inside where he can't hear us. You can't say that while his around baby"

"Fine, i wont say it again" he shrugged "is my dad coming back today?"

"He said he was gonna come see you today"

"I like him, he seems cool"

I didn't know what to say to that so i just kept my eyes on the road.

"Mom, dont you like my dad?...."

"Sure i do bud, i just haven't seen your dad in a long time"

"But he makes you sad"

"Im fine Mace, don't you worry" i forced a smiled trying to put on a brave face for him.

Walking around the store i found myself picking up things i knew Chris and Scott liked.... or at least what they used to like.

I was loading the bags into the car when i got a text message.

Chris: Hey, just checking its still okay if we come over today?

Y/N: Sure

Chris: Thats good because we're at the house but your not home....

Y/N: Im at the store, be back in 5 minutes

Chris: 👍🏻

A thumbs up?? Really Chris??

I internally face palmed, he was still a dork.

I spotted Chris's car parked out on the road leaving the drive way empty, once i had parked up he then drove up and parked behind me. Mason was already out the car and running over to see Chris before i even had my belt off!

I got out and walked around to the trunk to get the groceries out.

"Morning Neighbour" i heard Brian approaching.

"God damn it" i muttered under my breath before sticking my head around to see him "hi Brian"

"You need a hand with those bags Y/N?"

"No thanks i'm good, got plenty of help with these two" i threw a thumb back pointing towards Chris & Scott.

"You sure? i don't mind helping you out"

"Its fine, we've got it" Chris said coming to a stop beside me with Scott and Mason either side of him, he reached in and easily scooped up two bags, Scott grabbing the another.

"We're all good, thanks for the offer though"

"Anytime, you know where i am" he smiled and walked back to his house stopping a few times to look back.

"Urghh" i shivered "guy gives me the creeps" i muttered quietly as i shut the trunk and led the way up to the house.

"Is he always like that?" Scott asked his eyes going comically wide at the thought.

"Yeah. He always appears when we're leaving the house or getting back...."

"Thats a little weird"

"Im sure he's harmless...." i shrugged. Chris was being unusually quiet, I didn't ask him what his problem was.

"Mom and aunt Hannah call him creepy Brian but its a secret" Mason said quietly to Chris and Scott even though we were now safely inside.

"Mace, stop it" i laughed shaking my head.

"He can't hear me mom its fine"

"Honestly kid...."

"Wonder where he gets it from huh?" Scott chuckled at me.

"Definitely his dad" i rolled my eyes "i love him more than life itself but he's a pain my ass sometimes" i muttered quietly so Mason couldn't hear.

"Sounds just like Chris" Scott laughed playfully nudging my shoulder with his.

"I heard that!" Chris added just making Scott laugh louder.

I made some sandwiches for lunch and grabbed some drinks taking them all out into the garden where Chris and Scott were kicking a ball around with Mason.

"Foods ready guys" i called out to them once everything was laid out.

"Can i sit next to dad?" Mason asked running over.

"Sure bud, Scott looks like you stuck with me" i shrugged switching their plates around.

"Fine by me sweetheart, id rather sit next to you anyway"

"At least someone wants to sit with me" i joked sticking my tongue out at Mason making him giggle.

"Hey Y/N..?" I heard Brian call from behind me, i sighed closing my eyes before turning around to see him looking over the fence at us.

"Hey Brian, everything okay?"

"Oh yeah! I just wanted to remind you about the BBQ, your friends are more than welcome to join us too"

"Thanks for the invite Brian but i think we're just gonna have a quiet family lunch"

"Okay well if y'all change your mind just come on over"

"Will do" i forced a smiled and turned back around.

"Has he gone?" I whispered to Chris who had the clear view of next door.

"Yeah" he nodded "that guy needs to take a hint".

"I don't think he knows how to" i shook my head before taking a bite of my sandwich.

"Maybe you should give him a shot" Scott teased wiggling his eyebrows.

"No!" Both Chris and I said at the same time.

"Relax i was joking" Scott laughed before shooting Chris a look. Chris looked like he was about say something but his cell phone ringing his pocket drew his attention.

"Sorry i need to take this" he said getting up from the table "hey Lindsey" i heard him say as he walked further down the yard for some privacy.

"Lindsey? That the girlfriend?" I asked Scott quietly, he nodded giving me a sad smile "its fine, i just wondered"

"I don't think it'll last personally"

"He obviously feels differently if he's now wanting that divorce"

"Thats because he's an idiot"

"Not gonna argue with you on that....."

"So what about you? Anyone special in your life Y/N?"

"Yeah Mason" i scoffed "i don't have time for dating. Being a single parent is tough Scott.... most guys run a mile when they hear you have a kid..."

"But you must have dated a bit?"

"Not really" i shook my head feeling my face burn in embarrassment.

"Y/N, there has been someone since my brother right?"

I looked up at Scott slowly shaking my head "no. I've been on a couple dinner dates Hannah set me up on but nothing ever came of it" i shrugged "its fine".

"Jesus woman how long has it been....like 7 years??" He asked looking surprised.

"Something like that" i mumbled picking up my glass of water, my throat suddenly bone dry.

"Girl that is some dry spell, please tell me you at least have a vibrator!" He said quietly so Mason wouldn't hear. I choked on the water that i was swallowing and started coughing before it turned to laugher.

"God i've missed you Scott" i smiled at him.

"I've missed you too! But that doesn't answer my question".

"Whats so funny?" Chris asked as he rejoined us.

"Just Scott being Scott" i rolled my eyes.

"Im finished mom can we go play football again now?" Mason asked looking hopeful.

"In a little bit bud, your dad and Scott are still eating".

Hannah and Lucas turned up unannounced not long after lunch was finished and I was grateful for the distraction. Lucas quickly joined in with Mason, Chris and Scott who were kicking the ball around again while Hannah poured us both a glass of wine.

"So hows it been having him around again?" She asked looking over at Chris.

"Weird. But Mason loves it"

"Your handling it better than i would be!"

"Mason deserves to know his dad, Chris has already been warned that i'll kill him if he does anything to upset him"

"I don't doubt that for a second" she laughed refilling our glasses.

"So..... Friday? I was thinking we start small just hitting some bars then we can end the night at 'Ruby's' for some dancing. I know you need to be wasted before you even consider dancing"

"Han i said id go out for a few drinks not an all nighter!"

"Oh come on! You haven't had a good night out in forever babe, we'll find us some cute guys...."

"Hannah...." i groaned closing my eyes.

"Ooh i heard you mention cute guys" Scott sat down looking very interested in our conversation.

"Im trying to talk Y/N into finding a cute guy to give her some much needed attention when we go out Friday" Hannah told Scott making me roll my eyes.

"Id listen to Hannah, you are in some serious need of male attention"

"But i don't just hook up with strangers guys.... we've talked about this!"

"Well maybe you should! Im just saying you deserve to find someone who makes you happy Y/N. Just because your a mom now doesn't mean you can't find love" Hannah said reaching over taking my hand with a smile. She had a point.... i couldn't sit around waiting for a man who had made his feelings perfectly clear 7 years ago. A man who was in a serious relationship..... maybe it was time to try and move on from him.

"Can i please come with you? I could use a night out" Scott asked looking hopeful.

"Sure, its been a while since you joined us on a night out Scotty" i smiled at him.

"You can help me find this one a man while your at it" Hannah smirked and shared a look with Scott that spelt nothing but trouble.

Everything taglist: @jesseswartzwelder @dumblani @barnesandrogersworld @patzammit @rynabarnesrogers-reading @rainbowkisses31 @rororo06 @supernaturalwintersoldier

Ocean eyes: @supraveng @michelehansel @denisemarieangelina @mrsjeffwittek @mery-be @marvelfansworld @cmalass @capstopavenger @fallenoutofrose @kelbabyblue @biebsmylife95 @loser-alert @traceyaudette @w3lissax @jennmurawski13 @ford66steal @saiyanprincessswanie

#chris evans #reader insert #steve rogers #steve x reader #chris evans x reader #ocean eyes

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sub-hoshi-enthusiast · 4 years

Note

hey, could you do jae from day6 and include pegging , degradation, and maybe choking (only if ur okay w that). possibly some brat taming/him denying being a sub. thank you

Thank you for the ask 💖! I apologize if it isn't as good as my other ones, I'm not 100% confident with this one 😅.

⚠️Warnings⚠️: dom!fem!reader, sub!Jae, pegging, choking, degradation, VERY light overstimulation.

The Party

You knew you should have stayed home tonight. Your boyfriend, Jae, had gotten a call from one of his old college friends to play at some stupid party which would be full of people he went to college with. Now, the party in general hadn't bothered you. You didn't care that after Day6 had performed a few songs, some of his old friends had immediately whisked him away to talk and catch up. You did care, however, when you had walked by them and heard them talking some nonsense to him about how the man should always be in control of the relationship. Their words had apparently gotten to him because when he was done talking to them, he had walked back over to you and the rest of his band with newfound confidence.

This is where the brattiness began.

He would slap and grab your ass whenever he could as if he owned it and you had heard him talking to the same group of friends, telling them about how he made you beg and scream in the bedroom, which you both knew was far from the truth. You had kept your composure through all of this knowing when you got home that night, he would get the punishment of his life. You finally snapped when you saw Jae on the dance floor grinding on some random group of girls.

You could only see red as you stormed over to him and pulled him away from them, hearing a few complaints on both ends that you chose to ignore as you dragged him to the car. You knew that Brian and Sungjin had brought their own cars so one of them could drive Wonpil home, as he had driven with you and your boyfriend to the party. You had chosen to ignore Jae's complaints as you continued to drive to your shared apartment in silence with a grip on the steering wheel that made your knuckles turn white. You only started paying attention when he had gotten quiet, as if he was thinking about something. You thought you couldn't be any angrier than you were, but boy were you wrong.

"Are you jealous, babygirl?" Jae had asked with a smirk as he leaned over to whisper the words in your ear with a seductive voice and a hand placed on your inner thigh. You were glad no cars were behind you when you saw the red light up ahead and slammed on the brakes, jerking Jae forward and making him move his hands to the dashboard to stop himself from hitting his head. You quickly leaned over and harshly gripped his face in one hand, the other still on the wheel as you squeezed his cheeks and forced him to look at you. He gulped as he saw the anger in your eyes.

"I don't care what your friends told you about 'being a man', but as long as I'm here, there is no babygirl and I am not jealous. What would I be jealous of, huh? Those sluts you were grinding on like a little whore? I don't care about them, do you know why baby?" You asked as you pulled his face even closer to yours so you could feel his uneven breathing against your lips. "Because I know, no matter how much you try to deny it, that you are my babyboy, and none of those sluts can make you scream and cry under them like I can. So here's what's going to happen, I'm gonna take you home and fuck that brattiness right out of you. Maybe you'll remember who you belong to when mistress is pounding into you with her cock. Now I want you to sit there and be quiet the rest of the ride, got it?" He didn't respond as you saw the light turn green out of the corner of your eye and let his face go so you could look away from him and continue driving.

You felt accomplished as you made it the rest of the way to the apartment without another complaint from your boyfriend. You slammed him against the wall by the door as soon as you entered. As you were biting and sucking on his neck, he bit down on his lip to keep quiet. You pulled away from his neck to glare at him.

"Stop doing that, you know mistress loves to hear the slutty sounds you make." He visibly shivered at your degrading words, but glared back at you.

"No." His answer made you reach up and grab his hair and pulled him close to your face.

"What did you just say to me?" He bit his lip so hard he almost drew blood at your low demand voice but glared at you again as he stuttered out his answer.

"I-I said, no!" Your hand moved from his hair to his wrist as you dragged him through the medium sized apartment to your shared bedroom, where you threw him on the middle of the bed.

"Strip." You commanded as you turned to your closet to grab your box of toys. As you turned around you saw him still fully clothed with a smirk across his face as he leaned towards you with a defiant look in his eyes.

"Make me." This boy was testing your fucking patience and he knew it. You slowly walked toward the bed and set the box on the bed before straddling Jae's lap. He looked up at you in confusion before you pulled him towards you from the back of his head and started to make out with him. He let out a muffled groan as he placed his hands on your hips. You took off his shirt and he quickly leaned up to kiss you again. He didn't realize that you had moved your hands from his head until he heard the click of handcuffs and looked down at his left wrist to see one side of the handcuffs secured around it. You used his surprise to your advantage to grab his other hand and cuff him to the headboard.

He let out a whine and pulled at the cuffs. While he was throwing his mini tantrum, you reached to your box again and pulled out a silk red ribbon. He turned his head to look at what you had and upon seeing the ribbon started to thrash around even more. You rolled your eyes and tried to hold his head in place so you could tie the ribbon around his eyes. You let out a low growl as he jerked his head away from you with a glare.

"If you don't stop moving you won't cum at all tonight, do you understand me?" At your words he sat still and looked up at you obediently. You smiled and blindfolded him. "See? That wasn't so bad was it?" He grumbled at your words with a frown. You chuckled and got off the bed.

He panicked as he felt your weight shift off the bed but calmed down when he heard you rummaging through your box yet again. He gulped and licked his lips as he heard you chuckle darkly to yourself and set something small on the bedside table.

"W-what are you going to do to me?" He nervously asked as his manly facade cracked for a second. You smirked at his nervousness and ran the tip of your finger lightly up and down his thigh, making him jump.

"That depends, are you gonna stop being a brat and actually listen to me?" You asked him as you set your strap-on down on the bedside table with the lube, cockring, and the vibrating buttplug you had recently bought and hadn't been able to try out yet. He smirked at you, which already gave you your answer.

"You don't own me, therefore I don't need to obey you." You smirked at the yelp he let out as you gripped his dick through his pants.

"That's what I was hoping you would say. So here's what's gonna happen, slut," you said as you took off his pants, "if you want to cum at all tonight," you took off his boxers and leaned up to growl in his ear, "you're going to have to beg for it." A shiver visibly shot down his spine as his cock twitched in your hand.

"I guess we'll be here a while then." He said through gritted teeth as he felt you slide the cockring over his rock hard dick. You smiled at his answer, knowing how easily he would break.

"I guess we will." You grabbed his dick and started to quickly stroke him. His hips bucked into your hand but he bit his lip to keep in his moans, only letting a few low groans slip past his lips. He felt himself getting close as quick pants left his lips and he started bucking his hips up more often. He whined as he tried to cum, the cockring preventing his release. You smirked as you heard the submissive noise he let out.

"Ready to surrender to your mistress yet?" He gritted his teeth as he struggled to answer.

"Fuck. You." You shrugged to yourself before letting go of his cock. He breathed out a sigh of relief before he quickly tensed again as he heard you squirt something onto, he assumed, your fingers. He realized he was wrong as he felt something else start to push at his entrance.

"W-what is that?" You smirked wider at the panic in his voice as you push the buttplug into him. He let out a loud moan before biting his lip at the feeling of something unfamiliar entering him.

"It's mistress's new toy. Relax, I'm sure you'll love it." He was about to ask what you meant until he felt pleasure shoot through his body as the object started vibrating. He couldn't hold in his screams as his back arched off the bed.

"H-holy shit! When did we- AH- when did we get t-this?" You giggled but didn't answer as you grabbed the ring at the end of the plug and pulled it out slightly before ramming it back into him, searching for his prostate. He let out a loud, very high pitched, moan when you finally found it. He started whimpering and whining as he got closer to his release but was unallowed to cum.

"O-Oh f-fuck! Fuck fuck F-fuck! P-" he stopped himself by biting his tongue. You turned the plug off and pulled it out of him, making him whine louder at the feeling of being empty again. He sat up straight when he heard clothes rustling, the realization that you were stripping made him lick his lips in excitement. He cock jumped and he jerked at the handcuffs with loud whines as he understood that he would break soon after he heard buckles and you adjusting your strap-on on your hips. You giggled at his desperation and leaned up to remove his blindfold. He blinked a few times as his eyes adjusted to the lighting and saw you with your lubed up strap-on with only the tip pushed in his tight hole as you looked down at him with a smirk.

"I want you to see your mistress as she pounds into you to remind you where your place is." He was about to snap back through the desperate pants he released but was unable to as he let out a loud, pornographic moan at the feeling of your strap ramming into him and hitting his prostate at full force. You smirked down at his whimpering form as he wiggled his hips, urging you to move.

"I"m giving you one last chance to obey your mistress and stop acting like a little whore." He moaned again with his eyes rolling to the back of his head before he looked up at you.

"Go. To- f-fuck. H-Hell." You faked a pout.

"Fine. Have it your way." You simply said before pulling almost all the way out and ramming back into him. He screamed out whines, whimpers, and moans as you continuously rammed into him as hard and fast as you could. With one last moan, he finally reached his breaking point as you wrapped your hand tightly around his throat.

"O-oh fuck! PLEASE!! Please make me cum mistress! Fuck- I'm sorry for being a stupid whore, just please!" You smirked down at him.

"I don't know baby, are you really sorry? How do I know you won't do it again?" He whimpered with tears falling down his face as he struggled to answer as drool started to seep out the corner of his mouth. You loosened your grip around his neck so he could answer.

"I was being a dumb slut! S-shit- was thinking with my dick instead of my head! Please mistress! I'm s-so fucking sorry!" He sobbed out. You smiled in victory as you reached down and took the cockring off of him, finally letting him cum. He let out loud moans as you continued to ram into him after his orgasm.

"Who's mindless whore are you? Who do you belong to slut?" You growled in his ear, making him arch his back into you and moan louder.

"I-I'm mistress's property! O-oh fuck, fuck! I'm her dumb slut! No one makes me feel as good as mistress does! H-holy shit mistress, 'm gonna cum again!" He whimpered out as he moved his hips to meet yours. You leaned down and kissed and sucked on his neck, making sure to leave marks so everyone could see who he belonged to. He moaned out with tears spilling down his face as he came again, covering his stomach with his milky white seed. You both lay there panting heavily for a few seconds before you pulled out of him.

"Do you think you have enough energy for a shower baby?" You asked Jae as you removed the handcuffs and placed them on the bedside table. He weakly shook his head as you kissed at the red marks around his wrists. You took your strap off as you walked to the bathroom to grab a rag, placing the strap-on in the bathtub. You came back out to see your boyfriend sound asleep. Smiling softly, you clean his stomach. The feeling of the wet rag made him stir in his sleep but not wake up. You threw the rag in the clothes basket before cuddling up to your sleeping boyfriend.

You looked up at his peaceful face with a smile and brushed a stray piece of hair out of the way. He smiled softly in his sleep before wrapping his lanky arms around you and nuzzling his face into your hair while mumbling.

"Mmh... love you…" you chuckled and kissed the junction of his neck.

"I love you to babyboy."

#dom!reader #day6 #sub!day6 #day6 smut #day6 imagines #day6 scenarios #day6 reactions #sub!jae #jae #day6 jae #jae scenarios #jae reactions #jae imagines #dom reader #sub jae #sub day6

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cherrydreamer · 4 years

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(As I was writing this, I realised how it’s pretty much inspired by @okaybutlikeimagine‘s INCREDIBLE fic But She’s Not There so if you like even the littlest bit of my post, then go and read that as well because she does it SO MUCH BETTER! Seriously, the way she weaves music through the plot is breathtaking.) I totally have this headcanon (and I know it’s not a unique one!) that Billy’s mom listened to some real soft sunny music when he was growing up. And then this happened... I don’t think there’s any content warnings other than swearing. It’s mostly fluffy, actually, which is surprising for me. (It’s a little bit angsty in the beginning, but yeah it’s Billy, what do you expect?) *** He’d wake up to Fleetwood Mac playing low in the kitchen, his mom humming along as she got breakfast ready; hear Simon & Garfunkel as they drove to the grocery store on the other side of town, the one that has the cereal he likes best; get to know The Mamas & the Papas from overhearing his mom singing in the shower. Sometimes she’d even bring along a little portable radio to the beach, Brian Wilson singing about Huarache sandals and a bushy bushy blonde hairdo as little Billy paddled out amongst the waves. And then she leaves, walks out of that door and takes all the soft sunshine with her. She leaves her tapes and her records and Billy listens to them alone in his room, closes his eyes and tries to pretend he’s back with her, tries to conjure up that warmth and safety that the music used to represent but it’s not enough, not enough to block out the noise of Neil crashing about in the house, not enough to cover up the ache in Billy’s chest. So Billy throws the tapes out. Knows it’s gonna happen sooner or later and he’d rather be the one to do it than his dad. And he stops listening to music altogether, gets used to soundtrack of a television droning, raised voices, snores from Neil when he falls asleep with a beer bottle in hand.

But then maybe he’s out at the beach one day, maybe he wanders over to the dodgy end, the bit that has a reputation, the bit where the good boys and girls don’t go. And there’s a group of older kids, teens, with a boombox blasting out something loud and explosive and sounding so angry that something jolts in his chest at the power he hears in the music, the absolute depth of emotion he can hear in those voices. And Billy is hooked. Has no fear when he runs up to the group, his blonde curls and patterned shorts standing out in the middle of all the leather jackets and piercings, to ask them about the music. And they laugh, mock his breathless voice and eager eyes, but at least one of them sees something- understand what Billy’s feeling- and lets him stay a while, lets him listen. Hands him a battered cassette box with a handmade label and sends him on his way once the girls start coming around. So Billy starts listening to music again. Feels like everything that’s been tearing around his head and gripping at his chest is being said in the way the guitars scream and the drums pound. And when he starts seeing pictures of the men behind the music, the men with big beautiful hair and tight trousers, something else starts to feel right too. And he starts hanging round at the dodgy end of the beach, learns how to drink and smoke and fight all to a soundtrack that makes him feel invincible. Makes him feel understood.

And even when he comes to Hawkins, even when he’s so far from his mom and his friends and the ocean he misses with every bit of his soul, even there he still has his music. Has to play it even louder to get the same effect, needs to make his room and his house and his bones shake with the vibrations, but he still has it, still has one thing to cling to. And then he gets with Steve. And Steve is all preppy pop and happy songs he can, and will, sing along to. And it’s not that Billy hates it, as much as he complains, it just doesn’t do anything for him. But he does enjoy watching Steve strut and sway and dance around, especially when he’s still in the gym shorts he wears as pyjamas and especially when he shakes his hips and wiggles his ass. Billy will put up with preppy poppiness if he gets to see that everytime Wham! comes on the radio. But then one day he’s over at Steve’s, and it’s late but there’s nothing on TV and they’re past that honeymoon period of needing to fill every single quiet moment with hands and lips on all the parts they can reach, so Steve puts on some music, ‘something relaxing,’ he smiles, ‘I’ll make cocoa and we can cuddle. You can tell me about your day.’ And Billy doesn’t even mock him, doesn’t make a comment about them turning into a boring old couple because, honestly, it sounds nice. Sounds exactly how Billy wants to spend the evening with the boy he loves with all his heart. But then the music starts. And Billy’s heart stops. Because he knows this song. Has spent years trying to forget it, trying to forget her. Filled all those spaces with noise and attitude, but all of a sudden he’s back to sunshine and softness and days at the beach and it should be too much, it should be hurting, he should be in pain right now. But he can hear Steve in the kitchen, clanking about and humming to himself- hears the little hiss as Steve splashes his hand with a drop of hot milk, the way he always does when he makes cocoa, the little red mark that’s always there after a dark winter’s’ night together, because he always makes cocoa for Billy and he always splashes his hand. And he always pouts about it and Billy always kisses it better. And Billy realises that the song doesn’t hurt. He’s sad, sure, and he misses his mom and he will always think of her when he hears these opening notes or see a yellow VW Beetle on the highway or when he eats the non name brand cereal that he swears tastes better than the real stuff. But it doesn’t hurt. And Steve comes back, two frothing mugs of cocoa with cream and marshmallows and even a little sprinkle of cinnamon on the top of Billy’s because he ‘likes it spicy’. And he sees Billy looking over at the record player, can see the wetness on his cheek and hear the slight hitch in his breath. And Steve, sweet, wonderful, caring Steve, rushes over.

‘I’ll turn it off,’ and he hurries to put the cocoa down, doesn’t even wince when it sloshes over the side of the mug and catches his skin again. But Billy puts out a hand, catches Steve’s wrist and bring it to his lips, kisses that little red mark that’s always there on a wintery evening and stops him.

‘Leave it on,’ Billy says, and it’s a little gruff and a little wet but he means it, ‘Come sit.’ And Steve does. Sits beside Billy and wraps one arm around his shoulder and holds him close. Listens as Billy talks about his mom, about the memories, about the music. Halting at first, quiet, like he doesn’t quite feel like he should, but then the words are flowing and Billy’s hands are moving and he’s smiling so brightly as he tells Steve about the seven foot waves and the apple pies his mom used to bake and he’s happy, he so happy. And when he’s done, when his throat is hoarse and the cocoa’s gone cold and they’re both as wrapped up in each other as they can be, Steve turns to him. “Y’know, I think I’ve got this album on tape too. We could, uh, we could play it in the car. Maybe take a road trip. Maybe head West?” And Billy looks at him. Can’t believe that he gets to have this, gets to have such goodness and sweetness and love in his life, and he nods, presses a kiss to Steve’s head and nods again. Clears his throat. “Yeah that...that sounds good.” He waits a moment, soaks it in. Thinks about him and Steve and a suitcase packed into a car. Imagines taking Steve to the beach, showing him the ocean, teaching him how to surf. And he grins, big and wide. Turns back to Steve. “We’re not having any fucking Wham though,”

#harringrove #billy hargrove #steve harrington #music #and of course metal can be soft and romantic and full of love and all of those things #but i think billy tried to seek out the angrier stuff #or at least the ones that sounded angry to him #tw: swearing #headcanon #my writing #cherrywrites

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