Overview: A night you and Harry will never forget, which included a black satin slip and a hotel room in the city that never sleeps.
Soft smut
A/N: LISTEN TO ONLY ANGEL WHILST READING THIS IT BRINGS THE VIBE PERFECTLY. Thought I’d write something a little different today. It’s my first time I’ve written something like this but I like it! Hope you do too. Just gotta respect and love the definition of perfection: Mr Harry Styles.
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Word count: 2400
Harry was dripping in sweat. He could feel the back of his jacket stuck, and when he tried to shrug it off, he could feel the shirt peel away from his back. It was another outfit that was going to have to be dry cleaned, but he didn't care. The crowd had been one of the best of the tour yet, and he could still feel the pure adrenaline scorching through every pore, making him skittish as him and the group of staff and friends followed him down the winding corridors of the arena. You had said that you were going to get him a little later at the hotel, so he wanted to get out now to avoid getting stuck in the New York traffic.
"Brilliant as always," Beth the stylist raised her water bottle to him as he entered his dressing room. "Thanks," he smiled. "I'm sorry, I've got another outfit to be cleaned if that's okay." "You can wear the trousers and shirt back, there's no point in those being rushed cleaned. Give me the jacket, I'll get it sent out tomorrow with the others." "You're amazing." Harry tried to unbutton all the small rose buttons that kept the bottom of the metallic rose jacket tight to his torso. Luckily, the shirt underneath was white, so the sweat wasn't that obvious, so he would be able to blend into the crowd a little more comfortable in case he had to make a quick getaway. Unluckily, the jacket was fiddly, and he was in such a rush, his fingers kept slipping, and he started to get agitated. "Come here," Beth waved him over and then bent down to help, her fingers a lot more nimble and calm.
"You're in a rush to get out of here."
"Y/N is meeting me at the hotel, I don't want to keep her waiting."
"Ohh," Beth smirked and raised an eyebrow "you've got plans or something?" Harry was trying not to get his hopes up too much, but yes. It was all he'd been thinking about during the last songs, and he had made sure to not prolong the encore any more than it needed to be. By the time he was singing Kiwi, he had felt his gut twisting so much in anticipation that he had struggled to get some of the lyrics out.
"I just don't want to get sidetracked by anybody from Sony," he said instead. "I'm here tomorrow, they can catch me then. Oh," he was running around the room now, free of his jacket, picking up his phone charger and the keys to the hotel, "could you tell Mitch and the guys that I won't be able to go for drinks tonight? I did mention it earlier, but I would hate for them to think I've forgotten."
"It's okay, they know that Y/N is here. Now go," she pushed him playfully out the door, "There's a taxi waiting for you at exit five. I'll see you back here at three tomorrow." Harry did a thumbs up
"You're an angel, Beth."
"Tell Y/N I said hi!" Beth yelled down the corridor at Harry's retreating back. Harry was already scrambling with everything in his hands while sending you a quick text: Will be with you soon. As promised, a black car with tinted windows was waiting at the exit. The driver was leaning against the bonnet, but as soon as he saw Harry, he jumped up and ran to open the door.
"Where to Mr styles?" he barked with a strong New York accent.
"The Conrad please Micheal," Harry smiled. The gates were already rattling open as Michel gunned out into the alleyways behind Madison Square Garden, able to change routes quick as a flash when a massive wave of people burst out from the arena. Even though the windows were opaque Harry shrank slightly in his seat, reading the text you had just sent with a small smirk. Don't be too long….
"How long, Micheal?" Harry called.
"20 minutes Mr styles," Micheal looked through the rearview window and spoke over the noise of the city around them.
20 minutes. He could survive that.
But as the minutes counted down, Harry's leg jiggled more and more, and the veins on his arms started to protruded as he fought to keep his mind and body under control. It felt like hours when realistically it'd only been minutes when Micheal pulled into the side entrance of the Conrad hotel. Already there was another large crowd of fans and photographers at the front entrance which could prove a problem tomorrow morning, but it meant that tonight no one was going to be leaving his hotel room. Good. He didn't need to leave with the plans he was envisioning. Wishing Micheal good night Harry darted out, smiled briefly and nodded at the usher waiting at the door, and hopped into the elevator waiting open for him. He clicked the floor number, the doors closed, then clicked it three more times as if to speed it up. There was a ding, and the doors opened, and Harry tore down the corridor to the large double doors at the end. He skidded to a holt and breathed for a second. She might be exhausted or asleep. Don't just tear in there and assume that she's going to want to jump on you. Even though a small selfish part of him protested, Harry beat that back. She's here, that's the best part out of all of this.
When he opened the door, Harry did not notice the candles or the bath full of bubbles, or the glasses of champagne looking over the glittering view of central park. All he could see was you, and the black slip dress.
His jaw dropped. He blinked, shook his head, then looked again. The slip was satin and rippled gorgeously over your body, so you looked like liquid midnight. Lace edged the skirt and the bust, drawing his eyes to your chest, dropping his phone on the floor in hysteria when he saw that you weren't wearing a bra.
"Hi honey," you smiled sweetly, feigning innocence by crossing your arms behind your back. "Did you miss me?"
Harry fell to his knees. Breathing hard, he started rubbing his hands up and down his thighs, then through his hair, as he tried to comprehend at what he was looking at. "Fuck me," he whispered.
"I heard the show went really well," you went on while surreptitiously pulling the back of the dress, so the hem slipped a little higher up your leg. "I could hear the screams from here at one point." Harry wasn't listening. As you took a step forward, he seemed to almost whimper as he looked at you, his pupils so dark in the dim light that for a moment, he appeared to be controlled by the image of you. He started crawling towards you, slowly with anticipation, trying to find the right words to say. He had lost the feeling in his legs; they didn't seem to need blood with the way his gut was roaring. He couldn't take his eyes off you.
"Aren't you going to say you missed me?" You teased, pointing a foot out as if to stop him from coming closer, enjoying the way his eyes seemed to throb out of his head with excited shock. Slowly, Harry pushed your foot down, closing the gap, so he was knelt down on the floor in front of you. He reached out and placed both of his hands on the back of your calves. The skin was soft from being recently shaved, and it was heavenly to touch. Taking his time, he started to trail his fingers slowly up, fluttering at the back of your knees, before travelling up further to the soft mound of your thighs. He moved his thumbs to part your thighs slightly and then plant one light kiss on the inside of your leg, his eyes never leaving yours. This time you were the one to gasp, and seeing you from this angle was enough to undo Harry right there. Further and further his hands went up, trailing the thigh, then the curve of your bum where they rested for a moment. Instinctively you squeezed your legs together, and Harry enjoyed knowing he could still do that to you. He liked seeing you like this though; powerful, in charge, confident in who you were. That alone was driving him mad. He grazed your skin, going up and down with the tips of his fingers. His kisses peppered further up, touching each freckle, whilst you let one hand play with his hair, pulling it each time you felt his breath against your skin. He knew the rings he still wore were cold, so he took them off one by one, letting them drop onto the floor and roll away. You were still waiting for him to say something, but now you were also struggling with keeping your control, not wanting to break away from this moment just yet. Harry held onto the hem of the slip and used it to pull himself up, transferring his hands back to your bum and thighs when he stood over you.
"I didn't feel anything underneath the slip love,” he was finally able to croak out. You grinned and deliberately looked him up and down, letting your eyes devour the sight of the man you'd been thinking about ever since he left.
"That's because," you leaned into his chest, your boobs pressed next to his raised heart rate, "I'm not wearing anything." Harry let out a ragged sigh, letting his head fall back as he fought every urge not to rip the slip off you right then. Instead, he leaned closer, his mouth to your ear, and lowered his voice, so it seemed to rumble in your ear. "God, I've missed you." You went to move your hands up to straps to take off the slip, but Harry shook his head.
"Not yet." One arm moved around your waist, keeping you close to him as he gently swayed you back and forth. He was retaking control, and you let him. As he swayed, his hand drifted up and down, moving higher up your spine each time until he cupped your neck. His shirt was still sticking to his back, so when you mirrored his arms, the curve of his lower back into his shoulders was hard against your fingers. And then, not able to hold it any more, Harry gently brushed lips against yours. The overwhelming surge of impulse took over, and the kisses quickly changed from soft and sweet to hot and desperate. Harry felt as if he had woken up from an illness he didn't know had drained him as he kissed your neck and shoulders, seeing faint marks from when he'd done this before. Gripping your hips, Harry suddenly lifted you up, smirking in delight when you sat comfortably around his torso, wrapping your legs without hesitation around him. He walked over to the bed and deliberately put a knee up so as he fell, he could cup you against his body. You moulded perfectly together, whispering to you all the while about how much he'd missed you.
"You're killing me," he laughed against your cheek when you deliberately squirmed against him. "How do you do this to me every time?" His hair was already wild from performing, so it was so curly it tangled in your fingers, and you hummed in delight at how messy he looked. Harry went to move down, but couldn't help himself but kiss you on the lips again, the sound of breath coming from his nose loud in your ears. He laced his fingers between yours while biting the skin on your neck.
Harry started to move the slip up your body, running his hands over your thighs and then your hips, kissing the mole at the spot that rested just below your hip line. You readied to raise your body to his mouth, but he shook his head again, looking up at you in glee. The slip went higher, over your stomach now, and you both were surprised with the groan of delight that escaped Harry's lips as he nipped the natural roll that rested just under your boobs. He chuckled slightly in surprise, widening his eyes for a moment, but didn't stop as he massaged and gripped your sides, his mouth travelling up from your belly button to the valley of your chest. When he finally got the slip off your body, he sat up, his legs straddling you, so you were lying on the bed beneath him. He started to unbutton his shirt, letting it slowly fall open. He rolled his shoulders back, loosening his muscles and rolling his neck around, deliberately showing off the broadness of his shoulders as he shrugged the shirt to fall off behind him. He drank you in, feeling your hips move, so you leaned up to look him in his crotch, making him gulp. There was nothing bashful about you, just dishevelled hair and skin unmarked like summer clouds. You had enjoyed seeing Harry's tattoos being revealed with every open button, until all you could see with the familiar markings on his chest and bicep, highlighted by the golden glow of his skin from the American sun. He kept his necklace on though, enjoying when he leaned back over you the way your eyes closed momentarily as he let his dangle over your face. He bunched up the stain slip and held it over you, gripping his tight in one fist. "Never get rid of this," he instructed. You smiled. You moved one hand to his waist, looking for his nod to continue. When he did, your hands worked quickly until it was just you two, united at last, and not even the noise of New York City could drown out the cries of his name. They echoed for hours later until Harry didn't want to hear his name screamed any other way.
Overview: You and Chris read your favourite books to each other
A/N.....It’s been 84 years. No seriously it has been a LONG time since I’ve put something on here, but I’ve been taking a break writing imagines and I am beginning to love writing bigger projects. I’ve had lots of inspiration during lockdown however so those should start to come on here at some point. Thank you for continuing to show love to the rest of my imagines and I hope you like this one. If there’s any requests for both scenarios and people keep sending them to me and I’ll make sure to keep wokring through them :)
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Word Count: 2400
“Can we eat this in bed?” You jiggle the bowl of steaming pasta as you deliberately shuffle towards the bedroom. Chris looked up through his eyelashes and raised an eyebrow.
“You want our bed to smell like meatballs?”
“But it will just make all of this perfect.” You pointed to the large windows which were dark and splattered with rain just as a flash of lightning lit up the skyline. Dodger whimpered nervously from his bed and gnawed further into the neck of his lion toy. “Dodger can hang out with us, and we can watch TV in bed and be nice and warm. You’d like that, wouldn’t you Dodger?” You cooed and bent down to rub behind the dog’s ears, holding your food high so he couldn’t eat any of it. Dodger stretched and padded to Chris’ feet. Chris looked at you both and smiled with fake reluctance. “Okay, fine. Come on Bubba,” he picked up his bowl and slowly walked towards the door, making sure not to trip over Dodger’s bounding in delight.
“Let’s just both promise we’re not going to spill anything,” Chris said jokingly, widening his eyes in a telling expression.
You rolled your eyes. “It was one hot chocolate.”
“And now there’s a stain that looks like someone pooed on one of the sheets.” Chris took your bowl and motioned his head for you the get into bed first. You turned on the fairy lights and lamps and dived underneath the puffy white duvet, wrapping it around your legs and hips while shifting it, so it was easy for him to get in too. Dodger sat at the end, his tail thwacking the air out of the duvet, eyes wide and staring at the food with longing. “No Bubba,” Chris warned as he gave you back your meal, “this isn’t for you. I’ve saved you some already.”
“You made extra meatballs for the dog?” You shook your head in disbelief. Chris shrugged as if to to say of course I would and then gently pushed Dodgers sniffling nose away. You ate in silence watching the TV, the storm growing louder outside. As stomach full, you sank into the pillows, feeling so comfortable you never wanted to leave. Chris left only once to take the bowls away and bring in cups of coffee, but apart from that, he seemed to sink beside you.
“Is it alright If we turn off the TV?” You asked a little while later, “I’m in the mood to read.”
“Yea, ‘course.” The TV went off, and you leaned over to your bedside table, shuffling further into the pillows as you got yourself comfortable to read. You had only read a few lines when Chris asked what you were reading.
“A room with a view,” you showed him the cover.
“Didn’t you read that at Christmas?”
“Yea, but I was in the mood to reread it. Is that okay?” You jokingly confronted him, leaning closer to him feign intimidation. Chris copied you and gently pushed you on the forehead, so your head moved back. “I never understood the fun about classics.”
“Because they’re amazing stories.”
“You can’t even understand them.”
“Only smart people can.”
“Oh, so are you saying I’m not smart?”
“I don’t see your degree,” you pointed at your framed degree hung proudly by the bookshelf.
“You mean the degree that’s next to my THREE shelves of awards?” Chris smiled cheekily as he pointed at the collection of statues glimmering in the soft light. “I don’t see your shelves there?” He laughed when you smacked him playfully with the book, leaning down to kiss you on the shoulder a couple of times. “We know you’re smarter than me.”
“Thank you.” You moved closer to him, so he stayed propped up near you, breathing steadily as you went back to the story. He kept his head by your shoulder, sighing deliberately, so a gush of breath tickled the loose hairs around your neck. After a few minutes, you instinctively crumpled your ear into your shoulder, whinging at him to stop.
“Sorry, sorry,” but his tone was edged with mirth. You tried to immerse yourself again, although this time Chris was starting to read lines out, intentionally dotting around the page, so your head began to swim.
“…Was she was wrong in this, she asked herself, reviewing her conduct for the past week or two…”
“Chris.”
“…she reflected, feeling rather sinister again, making Minta marry Paul…”
“Please stop.”
“….There was always a woman dying of cancer.” He frowned and shook his head. “This sounds so depressing.” You clapped a hand over his mouth, gritting your teeth as you smiled but muttering threats into his ear as he widened his eyes in phantom shock. “I swear you better shut up I’m trying to read.”
“I love it when you talk dirty,” Chris mumbled behind your hand.
“Are you going to stop?” You frowned. Chris nodded. Slowly, you pulled your hand away. Chris opened his mouth as if he was going to speak, but with a quick “NO,” he closed it again. He halted for a moment, then spoke again.
“What is it about this book that makes you love it so much?”
“The writing is beautiful,” you sighed with content, “you don’t have to fully understand what E.M Forster’s saying because you FEEL what he’s saying through his words. He can perfectly describe a feeling which I’ve never been able to put into words. Like here,” you rapidly thumbed through the pages, stopping and jabbing at a line underlined in smudged pencil. “For that reason, knowing what was before them – love and ambition and being wretched alone on dreary places – she often had the feeling, why must they grow up and lose it all?” You shook the book in delight, expecting Chris to be just as excited. When he didn’t, your jaw slacked. “Isn’t that wonderful?”
‘If you think it’s wonderful, then it must be,’ Chris shrugged. He pointed at the multitude of lines underlined in silver, gently moving underneath your hands to peer at the next few pages. “Why do you underline so much?”
You bit the side of your cheek in an attempt to not sound embarrassed. “It depends. Sometimes it’s lines that are written really well or things that made me laugh; mostly it’s moments which make me love the book in particular. Like first kisses or when two people are reunited. Like here.’ Flipping the page, you read “‘this is not what we want; there is nothing more tedious, puerile, and inhumane than love; yet it is also beautiful and necessary.’ Forster could’ve just said love is excellent, but this means so much more.”
“Uh, huh.” Chris was pretending to doze off on you, but when you retaliated by starting to shuffle away, he held you back. “Stop moving! you know I like how you pick up on those things.” He held his hand out as an invitation for the book, and when you handed it over, he flipped through the pages, reading the lines you’d memorised for so many years. “Is this how you feel? The way he writes?”
“Maybe not exactly. But I knew exactly what Forster meant by that last line because it made me think of you.” You enjoyed the way Chris’ face softened, the usually prominent bone structure hiding as his cheeks filled with a smile.
“Maybe I should read it sometime if it means this much to you,” he mused, nodding slowly. “Even if it is all about ladies dying with cancer.”
“Please do.” You half rolled over, your eyes drying out as you tried to look pleadingly at him. “I would die if you did that for me. I’ll read your favourite book if that persuades you.” You frowned. “I don’t even know what your favourite book is.”
“Easy,” Chris said “Ferdinand the Bull.”
“That’s a children’s book.”
“So?”
“Well, it’s not exactly emotionally challenging.”
“Hey, I cried at Ferdinand when I was a kid. Mom used to read it to us all the time. Didn’t you have Ferdinand in England?”
“Probably, but my parents didn’t read loads to me.”
“Aw man, you gotta read Ferdinand.” Chris swung out of bed, and half walked half skidded out of the room, Dodger tearing after him in excitement. You heard doors opening, lights being flicked on and bound books being dragged against wooden shelves, and then Chris came back down the corridor, turning to pick up the leg of Dodger’s stuffed lion and pulling both toy and dog back through the door. Dodger easily winning the tug of war sat underneath your vanity, chewing on his prize and Chris climbed back into bed, holding a battered picture book in triumph. It was obviously ancient. The red front cover had faded at the spine and at the edges due to sun exposure and a faint green stain which looked like paint coated the bottom. Chris still held it like it was a photo album and as he opened to the first page, he emitted a small gasp in wonder.
“Oh my God, I haven’t read this in so long! Look, there’s my name.” He pointed at a scribble in the corner of the page, barely eligible. You smiled and nodded, not having the heart to tell him that he could’ve written a swear word and you wouldn’t have been able to tell. “It’s exactly how I remembered it,” Chris spoke fondly, and he adjusted the lamp by his head, so it shone brighter on the pages. “I’ve got to read this to Stella next time I see her,” at the mention of his niece he softened even more, and his expression went slightly gooey.
“You can read it to me if you want,” you offered.
“You sure you don’t wanna keep reading your book?”
“Nah, I want to see what all the hype is about.” You gently closed A Room With A View and tapped on Chris’s arm, to which he lifted it up so you could lie between the pillow and his side. He shifted himself up so he could read and pushed your head to rest on his collarbone. “Can you see the pictures?” He spoke in a mocking baby voice but didn’t start until you’d stop shuffling and were comfy. Then he began to read, soft and slow at first but a couple of pages in he seemed to forget you were there. His voice started to rise and fall and get more expressive as he told the story of the bull who loved to smell flowers, and he laughed at the spindly drawings. You felt your eyes becoming droopy, and you shook your head to stay awake as he started to stroke your arm with the back of his hand, propping the book upon his knee so he could keep turning the pages.
“…And for all, I know he is sitting there still, under his favourite cork tree, smelling the flowers just quietly.” Chris nodded once in satisfaction, and the story was over. Putting the book on the floor, Chris shifted you slightly to rest back into him, smiling. “Did you like it?”
“I loved it,” you nodded, my head bobbling slightly as it bumped over his collarbone, “I especially loved your animated voice halfway through.”
“Stella insists on giving each person a different voice, even if none of them actually speak. Apparently, it helps her ‘become friends with them.’”
“That’s going to be fun when you start reading her Harry Potter.”
“Eh, it’s good to practise.”
“For what?”
“When I get to read it to my own kids.” He laughed at your widened eyes and lips which had now pouted out in surprised, “are you getting a little emotional thinking about me with children?”
“No,” you lied.
“Sorry, not my kids, OUR kids,” Chris’ eyes twinkled mischievously. You had to turn away then as a wave of motherly instinct you didn’t know was there filled your stomach, and your breath caught momentarily. “With their little curly hair and Boston accents.”
“I’m going to have to sleep after this.”
“And we can read to them loads and eat spaghetti with them…”
“you’re really mean, you know that,” you scowled, but you couldn’t help but see these children, running around in your mind in that teetering away all toddlers do on their chubby legs.
“You know what will be great too?”
“I swear if what you’re about to say is going to taunt me in my dreams-“
“Disney-world trips.”
“For God’s sake, Chris!”
“They’ll be so cute though!”
“Yeah well, now I’m going to dream about that.” You rolled over as if to try and sleep, but Chris rolled with you so now you were spooning, his knuckles continuing to stroke your skin in half soothing, half taunting way. “Our kids will be adorable,” you mumbled as you smiled into your pillow, “and they’ll love Ferdinand.”
“And I hope they see the world like you do,” Chris peppered a couple of kisses behind your ear and down your neck and then turned off the last light, so the room plunged into darkness. Dodger was finally settled and asleep, and there was a moment of creaking as Chris settled back into the spot he was lying in. For a moment, there were only the sounds of breathing, but you were now wide awake. You felt your mind whirring away, and you didn’t know if you wanted to punch the man next to you or kiss him.
“Okay so technically,” you spoke into the dark “we don’t want to have kids for a while.”
“Right.” Chris agreed.
“But there’s nothing wrong with practising.” You felt the arm around you tense suddenly, and his shadow popped up like an excited dog.
“No!” He cleared his throat. “No, there isn’t at all.”
“You said the Disney comment on purpose didn’t you?” You held a finger out as he leaned forward. Chris shrugged unapologetically and grabbed your arm to pull you on top of him, his chest already rising and falling quickly with anticipation.
“I might have done.”
“Ooo, maybe I should go sleep in the spare room then,” you teased and started to wriggle off him, but with a low laugh, Chris’ hand moved from your arm to the back of your legs.
“You’re not going anywhere,” his voice was gravelly as you became lost in each other.
Overview: You and Chris are going to see your daughter perform in her first talent show. Chris helped with her performance and its a little different from what you would’ve expected...
AN: Another Chris one for you guys! Now that Knives Out is coming out, I’ve had people desperate for more Chris, and this idea melted my heart. This is inspired by a scene from one of my favourite TV shows if you know it message me ;) Thank you for the support as always!
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Word count:2300
"nononono" you panicked as you felt you ankle wobble dangerously. Running on cobblestones In heels was dangerous, and a broken ankle was the last thing you needed right now. You slowed down to an uncomfortable fast walk-jog, willing for your ankles to not snap like sticks. It had started to snow, the first time this winter, and you buried your chin into your scarf so to keep your teeth from chattering. The clock in the local church chimed 7:30 causing your head to whip up in alarm and your heel to skid across a particularly icy cobble. You felt your whole body move back and that gut-wrenching shot of panic flashed through your brain as you saved yourself at the last minute from falling. You felt your phone buzz in your pocket, the third time in the past half an hour. You fished it out and shoved it between your ear and shoulder, rounding the corner to beams of saturated yellow light "I'm here, I'm literally outside…… I'm fine love…..yes there was an issue at work that I had to stay for, but I'm here now……okay……I'll see you in a second."
Oak-field catholic school came looming out the darkness, brightly lit up with banners already hanging limply from the steady fall of snow. You skidded up the steps, taking two at a time, to almost trip and fall on the last one. You bag swung around on your shoulder and almost took out a grandfather walking behind you.
"I am SO sorry, Sir!" You gasped "Honestly If I've hurt you-"
"Swinging for the elderly?" A voice joked "I thought we said you wouldn't do that anymore." Chris was standing by the open door, smiling. He walked over, apologised once more to the old man and his wife, before turning back to you, shaking his head. He was wrapped up in a dark jacket over his favourite blue shirt, and his shoes had been cleaned, so they gleamed; he had obviously dressed up the occasion. His hair was still a little messy from a day of running his hands through it, and the sight alone caused you to sigh with joy.
"I'm an addict I couldn't help it," You joked. "Hi."
"Hello." He grinned. He pulled you in for a quick hug, planting a soft kiss by your ear. "How was your day?"
"I don't want to talk about it."
"Duly noted. Come on," Chris kept his arm hooked around your waist as you both walked into the school "the show hasn't started yet."
"I thought I was going to miss her."
"And that would've made you a terrible parent."
"It would've." It was good to relax and joke around after the day you'd just had, you could already feel the knot in your shoulders start to loosen. You said hi to Lina's mum as you passed and nodded to Sister Margret, who jerked curtly back. The pair of you was just quickly catching up about to head into the hall when a small voice could be heard just behind to you.
"Dad?"
Connie had poked her head out the backstage door. She looked like she was going to be sick; pale skin, sweaty forehead, her nails bitten down to the surface. Her eyes were wide and desperate, and this caused Chris to run over and lean down on one knee. You watched from a distance; Connie didn't like being nervous in front of you because she knew it caused you to become overprotective. You saw Connie shake her head and the words "I can't do it," be said before Chris lightly put a hand over her mouth. He shook his head and spoke soft words, moving the hand to then to bring her head forward so he could kiss the top of her head. Chris said something that caused your daughter to laugh weakly before she said something that caused a belt of laughter from him. He then pulled her in briefly, their cheeks squishing together as he hugged her tight before chivying her lightly towards the door. One last high five and then she slipped backstage again, leaving her Dad to run back over to you smiling.
"Everything okay?"
"yea she's fine. Last-minute nerves. We've been rehearsing all day though so she knows what she's doing."
"I'm just looking forward to FINALLY seeing this secret performance," you said as you entered the auditorium where rows of creaky chairs were set up facing the stage. The sound of a generic TV show single was on a loop through the speakers on either side of the stage, buzzing slightly with the increase of base every few seconds. The air of you headed to two seats in the third row on the inside end, meaning you had the perfect view without having to crane your necks. There was a pause while you both flicked through the programme and said hi to parents of friends and to say hi to that one hysterical fan (there was always one) before you couldn't resist any more.
"Are you going to give me ANY hints about what she's doing."
"Nope."
'Nothing at all?"
"It's a surprise."
"Should I film it?"
"Oh absolutely," there was a glint in your husband's eye that for some reason caused you to become suspicious "we're never going to want to forget this."
You wanted to ask more, but then the lights went down and a thunder of applause. One of the sisters was standing just by the stage with a microphone in one hand and a notebook in the other, from which she read out "Ladies and Gentlemen, welcome to Oak-field's Talent Extravaganza. Now, please put your hands together for Alice and her jumping juggling friends."
*******
"She's next, she's next!" You squired in your seat with impatience, excitement starting to bubble in your chest. Chris handed you his phone, and you set up the camera, propping it up on your bag so the performance could be filmed. "I'm nervous, why am I nervous she's doing the show not me. Oh gosh, I'm panicking-"
"Hon she's going to be fine!" But he still reached out and grabbed your hand, squeezing it in reassurance. His jiggling knee also gave it away that he too was feeling a little nervous, and that oddly calmed you a little.
The lights went down once more, and there was a smattering of polite applause. Lina walked out first, her smile full and confident, strutting over to her spot with rehearsed purpose before standing with her hand on her hip, poised. Connie, with her smaller physique and her curly hair already coming loose from her ponytail, gave the image of someone who was more reserved and shy. You watched her eyes rake the crowd before she caught your eye. You gave her a small wave; Chris lifted his arm so his thumbs up could be seen over the group. This reassurance caused Connie to nod in determination, before gripping her hand onto her hip, smiling widely. A click of the stereo and the slightly tinny sound of an old Judy Garland song started to play. This granted a nod of approval from Sister Margret. A very devout woman of the church who before the show had sent a list of songs and artists that were "recognised as inappropriate and would therefore not be tolerated." She was also a massive Judy Garland fan and had, therefore, lacked hesitation when putting the girls into the show. The CD stuttered, then the tinny backing track to "somewhere over the rainbow" rang out through the old speakers. The girls started their routine, slowly swaying back and forth, little voices sweet and nervous but to you the loveliest sound. You beamed widely, tears already clogging your eyes and pride burst through your chest. Everyone else saw the charm in it too; the grandparents in front of you cooed at each other about how cute she was. You wanted she lean over and say "she's my daughter," but that would distract you from the show.
A couple lines in, however, the music scratched, stuttered, and then stopped. The hall was silent. Both girls stood in stage, looking at each other and then back out into the audience. Your heart lept into your mouth. You tried to catch Connie's eye, but this was causing you to panic more. "We have to do something," you hissed to Chris.
"Just wait."
BAM! Bass blasted out of the speakers, shuddering the ground. Both girls grinned widely before throwing off the big jumpers they both wore, to reveal t-shirts decorated with flashing stars to match the socks they both pulled up to their knees. Horrified, you heard the lyrics to an all too familiar song.
'I was like
Good gracious- ass is bodacious
Flirting to show my patience
I'm waiting for the right time to shoot my steez….'
And without hesitation, both girls started dancing perfectly in time, jumping, sliding and turning, never missing a note as they lip-synced along. There was a roar of noise from the audience, a mixed response of anger and howling laughter. You turned to Chris, who was roaring with laughter, rolling back and forth on his chair, clapping loudly.
"You taught our daughter the lyrics to Hot in Here by NELLY?"
"But," Chris had to collect himself for a second he was laughing so hard "but doesn't she look great!"
"CHRISTOPHER!"
"It's a great song! Look, they're just coming up to the chorus." You turned back in time to see you, daughter, mouth the lyrics I am getting so hot right now, imma take my clothes off before throwing herself into a cartwheel. You were so shocked you burst out laughing, and then you couldn't stop. It was brilliant, they'd obviously spent hours on it. The audience was loving it too, most of their classmates cheering them in next to their slightly shell shocked but amused parents. The Sisters, on the other hand, looked horrified, Sister Margret was shaking in her seat, her face so stern it looked as if her forehead was about to crack in two. She started to feverishly whisper to the sister next to her. She jumped out of her seat and scurried behind the speakers, desperately trying to unplug them. Connie and Lina kept going, never missing any lyrics or steps. The speakers were eventually cut off, and the hall erupted into thundering applause. Chris stood up, whopping and pointing proudly at his daughter. "That's my girl! That's my daughter!" You laughed at his yells of pride and stood up with him, clapping widely. The lights went up, and Connie's eyes went straight to the pair of you. She was blushing, but when she saw you, she beamed and waved. A sister grabbed both of them by the shoulder and frog-marched them off stage to a waiting Sister Margaret. She beckoned Chris over too, and for the first time, Chris's jubilation faltered.
"I think I'm about to get told off."
********
"Again," Chris said for the fourth time "I am so sorry for getting you into trouble honey." Connie poked her head up from her giant bowl of ice cream.
"It's only a week of no break times Dad. Besides, it gives us time to learn our next dance."
"Next dance?" You frowned.
"Lina's older sister wants us to do another dance for her birthday, to a song called s&m?" Connie shrugged "should be fun."
Chris's eyes widened, but you shook your head. Maybe not tonight. Instead, he went up and refilled all your ice cream pots, putting on so many reeses pieces the ice cream was lost. It was Connie's favourite though, and she squealed in delight before tucking in once more.
"But I'm proud of you." Chris threw his arm over his daughter and brought her into his side, her head barely reaching his shoulder. He kissed her head and smiled proudly towards you "didn't she do amazing?"
"You did amazing," you smiled.
Connie blushed once more. "Lina was better at the dancing than me."
"Are you kidding? You got moves, kid! Just like your mother," Chris winked, this time causing your cheeks to tinge pink. Praise and jokes were exchanged until it was time for them to go, the streets cold and icy with snow. Although she was nearly 9, Chris hooked Connie by her armpits and swung her onto his shoulders, one hand holding onto her wriggling foot, so she didn't fall off. The other handheld yours, making sure he kept close to you as you gingerly walked in your heels to the car. The snow was still falling in from the sky, and it stuck to your coat and to Chris's beard and made Connie look like a little old woman, her hair was so white. She squealed in delight not caring, sticking her little pink tongue out, trying to catch any snowflakes. It was the perfect image, and you feel your heart warm, seeing your small family together.
'I haven't done something yet today," Chris suddenly said.
"What?"
Chris stopped you for a second to lean in and give you a quick kiss, his lips warm and slightly cracked. He broke then there was another, and then he brought your intertwined hands up to his lips to kiss your hand, where your matching wedding bands knocked against each other. There were flecks of white clinging to his eyelashes, and his eyes glittered from the string of lights everywhere. "I love you both so much."
"I love you too."
"Love you three times !" Connie smiled. You both chuckled and continued to walk towards the car "Love you four times" Chris retorted.
"Love you five times."
"Six times."
"Ten times."
"A hundred times."
"One Gazillion and three!" Connie yelled, her smile triumphant.
"Wow. One Gazillion and three," Chris smiled to you "we're pretty damn lucky."
Overview: Going to a premiere together, you and Chris document the night with a disposable camera, keeping moments just for you.
A/N: HELLO! I have been MIA for the past 2 months, I am aware of this and I’ve hated it. However its been a really big time for me, I’ve officially started University studying Creative writing and Publishing! I am loving it so far but its been so busy, with surprisingly little time to do my own writing. I am however powering through and have planned ahead a few more imagines so please stay with me I’m trying i SwEaR!
Thank you all for still supporting my work it means everything to me. Like and Comment! :)
Word count: 2300 (ish)
The room was a bustle of chaos. Makeup artists holding fistfuls of brushes, publicists talking tiny phone or typing away on computers, the smell of dozens of Starbucks coffees fuming the room. You had to pause for a moment, try to be the calm in the storm as everyone around you patted, and prodded and cooed. In the grand scheme of things you weren’t even the priority, but you were the date, the girlfriend, and that was just as important. Photographers and reporters will swarm to you like wasps to coke, and so how you looked meant everything. “How’s the dress, honey?” Sierra the seamstress asked. She was crouched by your feet, sewing the last of the details onto the hem. You turned to look in the mirror behind you. The soft teal material billowed around you so as. You moved the trail looked as if you were stood in water, the tulle then wrapped around your waist to rest just over your heart. The silver pendant and rings you wore shimmered in the light as the diamonds stood out against your skin. When this had started you had insisted that you wouldn’t be the centre of attention, it's not your night after all, but you allowed yourself this moment to awe at your reflection. Looking like this was a rare treat, one that not many people got to experience. You ran your hand gently over the material, smiling softly. “it's beautiful,” you whispered.
“You look, beautiful darling,” Gianna the designer’s voice boomed over the noise. With her platinum hair hairspray into a helmet of gravity, red lipstick and pointed green glasses, she looked oddly like Rita Skeeter. It was something that you found thoroughly amusing and had to keep pointedly saying her real name. “You’ve done such an amazing job, Gianna,” you smiled “It looks incredible.” Gianna smiled and reached out to grab your arm lightly “YOU look incredible Y/N. He’s not going to know what to do with himself. Now,” you both turned back around to look at your reflection. Gianna shifted the dress slightly and then put both her hands on your shoulders “remember, if anyone asked, you are wearing Me. Okay? ALRIGHT, WE’RE MOVING!” The room snapped to look at you, and suddenly hands were reaching out, a wave of painted nails and hairy knuckles, helping off the sand and starting to direct you towards the door. At one point you almost tripped over your dress and you heard Gianna yell “Someone hold onto her train for goodness sake!”
“oh wait!” You grabbed the disposable camera next to your purse, checking that there were enough photos. This past week you’d been using this to decorate your new office, and tonight you wanted to remember how you looked, unedited and honest. You then made your way out of the room and into the suite next door. If your room had been chaotic this suite was as if there was a national crisis. It was so busy it was almost impossible to move, and people had to yell to let you through. Most people are smiling or doting on how lovely you looked, but you saw a couple of people roll their eyes or pay no attention to you at all; you were only an accessory to them after all.
But all doubt shifted from your brain when the last people parted and you finally saw a glimpse of him. His back was to you, looking in a full-size mirror just like the one next door, but you didn’t need to see his face to already feel your heartbeat wildly.
"Um, Mr Evans?”
“Scott I told you,” Chris’s charming smile widened, a hand on the interns back,” call me Chris.” Scott’s cheeks flushed pink with delight, but was able to hold onto his professional facade as he continued “Your publisher is asking when you wanted the car to come around.”
“Whenever works best for the driver.”
“Of course Mr Ev-Chris” With one pat on the back Scotty scuttled out of the room, hurriedly muttering into his earpiece. Chris turned and stopped when he saw you. His face changed to one of childlike awe, his eyes looking you up and down as if this was the first time he was seeing you. He tried to find words to say, and when he couldn’t all he could do was clap a hand to his chest and take a step back. “Wow.” Everyone laughed. He walked forward and lightly kissed you on the cheek, wrapping you up in his arms. “you look beautiful,” he whispered into your ear. Hugging back you smiled “so do you.”
“Well that's just a given,” he joked. He squeezed you around the waist, and you could tell he didn’t want to be this restricted, by the way his hands moved slowly up and down your body. He pulled away for another moment to look you up and down, his eyes shining with sheer joy. For a second it was as if it was just the two of you, but that moment was fleeting as Chris’s usher coughed loudly. “the car is ready for you Mr Evans.”
“Thank you,” Chris reluctantly let you go, but only for a moment to turn back to the mirror once more. He went to reach out for your hand but a hoard of people had split the two of you apart. It was okay, you reminded yourself, you knew there would be moments of tonight where Chris would have to be just Chris, it was something you two had talked about before tonight. Instead, you clicked the dial on the disposable camera and snapped a couple of shots, Gianna insisting on getting a couple of you so she could have one for her records. Then you were gently pushed once more out into the corridor but this time were escorted to take the wide marble imperial staircase to the hotel's foyer. As you were at the top of the stairs Chris was halfway down the stairs, listening to his publicist. “Chris!’ You called. He looked up, his smile once again ad you waved the camera briefly. “Smile!’ The camera flashed and you both chuckled, You winding it up again and taking another one, although this time you’re sure you got the publicist’s scowl. “Come join me!” He called. The publicist tried to say something but Chris ignored him, making everyone wait whilst you awkwardly pushed past people on the stairs until you were by his side. This time he was able to reach out and intertwine your hand with his. “You ready?”
“Of course.” You both smiled, and then the procession continued, down the corridor outside into the cold February air. There was already flashes of cameras waiting outside but the pair of you quickly stepped into the car, which zoomed off down and joined the late traffic of London. You both were able to breathe a little easier, and this time he didn’t have to be restricted as he was before. Grabbing your hand once more he gently pulled you over so you were sat next to him, one of his arms looped around your shoulders, his fingertips gently drumming on your collarbone. He peppered a couple of kisses on your temple, then picked up the disposable camera. “Okay just stay where you are.”
“Why?” You laughed.
“because I want one photo of you now, one that only we will see. And no matter what photos of us are taken, we’ll have one each of us, and they’ll be the ones that we care about.”
“If that wasn’t you saying that I would have cringed so hard at that.”
“Just smile.”
So you did, the flash bright and blinding for that second. He took a couple more, including one of you laughing at a comment he said. Then it was your turn, so you took a couple of him. You already knew they were going to be your favourite photos him, and suddenly this plastic camera was the most important thing you owned.
“We’ve arrived Mr Evans,” the driver informed from the front, and the car crawled to a stop. You could already hear the screams of fans and the yells of photographers, and Chris turned once more to you. “You nervous?”
“No.” And it was true, now you were here you were surprised at how calm you were. “I’ll be here if you want me-“
“Well you are my date so I guess that’s a yes?”
“You’re hilarious. I’ll be there for photos and stuff if you want me, but If not then that’s fine.”
“I want you there. If you’re good I will be too.”
There was one more pause, one more moment of calm. “I wish I could kiss you right now,” he laughed “but If I smudge anything right now you’ll never leave this car.”
“There’s time for that after,” you winked cheekily.
“ah of course. And 5 Guys.”
“It is the tradition.”
Chris kissed your intertwined fingers “I love you.”
Hearing that still made your heart flutter “I love you too.” And together, you stepped out, into the chaos.
The green carpet winded through hoards of people, staining the usual grey of the London pavement. As the film was based in the 60s the lights were all vintage spotlights, brass and stained with age, and gorgeous jazz music crackled through speakers covered by fake vines and greenery. Behind the barriers, the crowd roared as first Chris stepped out and then opened your door for you, holding onto your purse with the camera stowed safety away as you gingerly shimmied out. As a couple, you started to walk by the wall of paparazzi, but yous stopped when you felt the dress tug underneath you. “ I think my shoe is stuck,” you called over the yells of “CHRIS! LOOK THIS WAY!”
“Hang on.” Without hesitation, Chris got down on his knee and carefully shifted your skirt until he found the tell caught around your heel. As he gently started to untangle it he jokingly tickled the soft skin by your ankle, causing you to laugh loudly.
“Stop it.”
“Stop what?” Her mocked innocence, but he did it again, you laughed harder, this time teetering a little on the other heel. Before you could even be scared to fall Chris was back on his feet, grabbing your arm and pulling you close, your arm naturally wrapping around his waist. “Honestly,” his sarcastic eye roll matching his teasing tone “I can't take you anyway.”
The cameras were loving this, flashes happening so much that your vision was blurred slightly by purple blotches. You could see enough to smack him lightly with your purse before kissing him lightly just bit the ear, where the shimmer lipstick wouldn’t be seen as much. You both then complied and stood for photos, looking at different angles, always close holding hands or arms around each other's waist. At one point Chris whispered the lyrics to the song playing in your ear, and once again you could feel your cheeks flush pink. He loved that too, so continued to whisper the words of Frank Sinatra and Paul Anka in your ear, meaning every word but enjoying the way you physically melted. He continued to do this to you throughout the night too, putting his hand high up on your thigh during the movie or commenting in interviews how gorgeous you were, dragging you over and telling everyone how amazing Gianna had been with your dress. At one point he accidentally called her Rita and you both burst out laughing, leaving the poor interviewer looking politely confused, before awkwardly avoiding the subject. It was a night of Champagne and compliments, the deposable camera documenting it all. Some photos were taken with fans too, including an amazing one of a fan so overcome with emotion with Chris posing for a photo she burst out sobbing just as the flash went. Many introductions and how did you meet conversations were exchanged, so by the time you both crawled back into the car 5 hours later, your throats were dry and feet sore from walking.
“I'm starving.” He didn’t even have to say and the car was already pulling back into the traffic, a call ensuring asking for food delivery to be delivered to the hotel. As you rested against Chris, you heard him humming some of the songs from the premiere. His voice buzzed gently through his body into yours, causing you to become almost warm. His shoulder was warm from where he’d worn a jacket all night, now off and on the seat beside him, the smell of his cologne lingering only slightly. To you it was one of those moments where everything seemed to be that little bit softer; the flashing light from the passing street lights, turning the back seat momentarily orange. The material of his shirt, the way his chin rubbed against your now dishevelled hair. The way he continued to hum his love songs, knowing that they were all for to you. Everything in that moment was real, a moment that only you would have. Knowing that you smiled into his chest, allowing his arms to wrap around you, your joint humming filling the car with its warmth.
Overview: Your kids are dressing up as Superhero’s for school and Chris is surprised when someone is missing.....
A/N New Chris guys!! Another request, I'm still working through the list don't worry but feel free to keep sending me requests for anything you want. Hope you guys enjoy this one thank you for all the support :)
like and Reblog!
Word-count:1,100
“Kids!” You yelled up the stairs “You better be down here in two minutes or I’m eating your breakfasts.”
There was a thud and a yell, but then a small “we’re coming!” Could be heard. The baby squished into his high chair crowed in response. You turned thinking he wanted something, but he was too occupied with squishing toast with his hands.
“Honey, can you make sure that Eli actually eats that? I cant keep feeding him animal biscuits five times a day.” Chris looked up from the book he was reading, eyes slightly dazed, then turned and smiled at his son. With one hand he gently unhooked his sons grubby fingers and wiggled the toast strip in front of his mouth “Come on little man.” Eli scrunched his nose in protest, but a little more coaxing from his Dad caused him to giggle and start eating. Chris’s eyes crinkled with pleasure.
You rewarded Chris with a large cup of coffee and a brief stroke through his messy hair. He leant into the touch like a cat, humming slightly, then jerked his head slightly. “I’m too sleep deprived right now for that.”
“i know how you feel. ” You crouched by your youngest child and peppered kisses all over his cheek, causing Eli to squeal and blow spit bubbles. “It’s worth it though,” you cooed. “KIDS! YOU BETTER BE READY!”
“So today is superhero day?” Chris said “At least this time you don’t have to worry about last minute costumes.” He paused and then smiled widely “Are one of them dressed up as me?”
“um-“
“DADDDD! WE’RE READY!”
Chris dropped the paper on the table and shifted his seat so he and Eli were facing the hallway. “alright, let me see your costumes.”
On that cue there was a thundering of feet and the twins came skidding into the kitchen. They stopped and posed, hands on hips and grinning with glee. “What do you think Dad?” Joni giggled cheekily.
Chris looked, took a second, then his face slacked in horror. “Why is Harry dressed as Iron man?”
Harry pulled the plastic mask off his face to reveal a scrunched up look of humour “Because Iron Man is the best!” He thrust his arm out, pew pewing right at Chris’ chest. Eli gurgled happily. You fought back a smile and went back to slicing up banana “We watched the first Iron Man so he could practise.”
“But-but” He seemed to be buffering “he’s not captain America.”
“Captain America sucks.”
“you take that back young man,” Chris swooped and hoisted his eldest up over his broad shoulder, a high pitched squeal of terrified glee. “Try and fight your way out of this now.”
“Robert could,” you joked.
“i would throw Eli’s soggy toast at you but I’ve been banned doing that In front of the kids,” Chris pointed a finger warningly in your direction. “And stop wriggling you’re tickling me,” he spoke over his shoulder, his voice edged with laughter as he squirmed under his sons touch. Harry continued to poke at his Dad’s waist until Chris had to drop him, harry running over to play with Eli instead.
“Hey Dad,” Joni ran around the table so Chris could have a better look at her costume “What do you think of mine?”
“You look great,” Chris smiled at his daughter’ elaborate doctor strange costume, biro facial hair included “but wouldn’t you want to dress like Daddy? Captain America was the first avenger.”
“Technically Captain marvel was the first avenger,” you pointed out. Chris Shot you look of betrayal. “Joni you’d look so good.”
“Are you saying I don’t look good now?” Joni’s eyes went wide, and her voice grew small. You and Chris caught eyes over her head and you shook your head in a don’t you dare warning. Chris turned back to his daughter and pulled her into his side, rubbing her arm as if she was cold.
“you look amazing sweetheart.”He pulled her up onto his lap and quickly kissed her forehead “I love the beard. I should teach you how to shave.” He pretended to shave Joni’s chin and that caused her to giggle lightly, mirroring him by running her hand all over the light stubble on his Jawline. You mouthed thank you and Chris winked quickly, grinning. The twins started clambering for their food and for a moment the conversation was diverted to cereal choices and contents of sandwiches. Harry kept picking up the orange juice and trying to make it explode, although this ended with Eli’s hair matting with juice.
It seems as if Chris had led it go. “Harry can you pass-“
“-How about if I give you one of the real shields?”
“Chris!”
“Only one of the small ones!” He reassured.
“Our son is 6 there’s no way he’s going to be able to carry your shield around.”
“But he’s dressed as IRON MAN!”
“And he worked all week on his costume so be nice.”
“And what about Joni? Doctor Strange isn’t even that good. OW!” Chris turned to his smirking daughter “Did you just throw a banana at me?”
‘Kids, go get your shoes on, we’re going to be late.”
“I need to do something before we go,” Chris was unclipping Eli from his highchair, pressing him close to his chest and he hurried out of the kitchen.
“Chris?” You called “what are you doing with my son?”
“I’LL BE ONE MINUTE!” He yelled running up the stairs. You bundled kids in coats and bags, did a last minute fix of Joni’s costume, took photos to tease them in the future years, and we’re just about to buckle them up in the car when Chris came running back. His eyes were gleaming as he proudly held his son out like he was presenting him on top of pride rock.
“You didn’t.”
“Yes. I. Did.” Eli squirmed with joy, smacking his hand against the mini captain America helmet that has been rammed onto his head. He was so chunky with the armour Chris was struggling to clip his seat belt in. “You had to give him a shield too?” You smirked.
“What? He has to look the part.”
“He just threw it at his sister.”
“He’s really committing to the role!”
You wrapped your arms around his chest and kissed him briefly “You’re an idiot.”
Chris rubbed his chin softly against your head for a moment, blocking out the chattering of children for a split second and being themselves, not just the parents. ‘i love you too.”
“DAD! DAD ELI JUST THREW UP ON MY COSTUME!” Harry’s furious shriek broke the moment.
Chris chuckled with pride as you turned to clean the mess up. “Thats my boy.”
Request: Hey, can I request a jealous Billy in school imagine? Like he sees the reader talking to other guys and decides to prove that she’s his?
A/N: Hey guys, here's another ST request, and after binge watching the entire thing I just had to write it. Keep sending in your requests, I promise I’m working my way through them. Thanks for being so patient the past few weeks, I'm writing way more now due to the extra time I have so hopefully uploads will be regular during the summer.
Like and Reblog! :)
word count: 1200
Billy arrived just as the Bell for lunch rang. He roared the clutch on his Camaro, jut to make it clear that he had arrived, then turned the car off and sat back, filling his lungs with smoke from the cigarette that he had clutched between his lips. The blaring sound of The scorpions caused a group of girls to scowl as they walked past, before clocking who was in the car. “Hey Billy,” One of them simpered, waggling her fingers and slowly batting her eyelashes whilst her friends giggled. Billy gave her a quick upwards nod, but his eyes didn’t linger; instead they scanned the hoards of people that were walking out of Hawkins High in to the watery April sun. He couldn’t see the person he was looking for-he couldn’t see you. He flicked the cigarette, climbed out the car and slammed the door shut, the smack reverberating loudly. As he strutted down towards the school he kept scanning, ignoring the wandering eyes of girls or the scowls of their boyfriends. He saw your friends but you weren’t with them and by this point his patience was starting to fray. He didn’t want to be here any longer than he needed to, instead would rather spend the afternoon smoking with you lying in once of his shirts on his bed. He rounded the corner and saw you by your locker. He couldn’t help but stop for a moment to admire the way your jeans clung tight your skin, his favourite pair because You were transferring books from your bag into your locker, your bag resting on your hip meaning your body arched slightly, something Billy wasn’t used to seeing you do with that amount of clothes on. A couple of people said hi to you as they passed, and you smiled politely and waved, but mostly you were just minding your own business. He was just about to walk up and surprise you, when a voice called “hey Y/N.”
You turned and smiled “Hey Ted.” Ted Fletch walked up, smiling widely. Billy hung back for a moment, anger starting to boil in the pit of his stomach.
“Here let me help you,” Ted grabbed the books from the top of the teetering pile in your hands, to which you nodded gratefully.
“Thanks. What’s up?”
“Our history test for Travis is tomorrow right?”
“Uh huh,” You nodded.
Ted groaned “Brilliant.”
“Guess you should actually look over your notes at some point,” you laughed.
“Or, if you’re free,” Ted moved in s little, his eyes looking you up and down briefly, Causing Billy to have a strong urge to punch him till he bled “We count meet up tonight. You know….to study.”
“Oh…i don’t”
“Hey Baby.” Billy was leaning on the locker behind you, one arm resting against the wall whilst the other was hooked lazily into his pocket You didn’t need to fully turn around to feel his chest against your back, leaning in as he nodded at Ted “Fletch.”
“Billy.” Ted’s smile had gone, replaced by a look of half fear half annoyance as he instinctively took a step away from you. You felt the blush colour your cheek and ducked your head as you tried to stop your heart from pounding loudly against your chest. Billy didn’t notice, still looking at Ted, his eyes flashing sinisterly. ‘I didn’t know you and Y/N knew each other.”
“He was asking me about the history test tomorrow,” You were able to say, just as Ted said “I was just asking Y/N if she wanted to hang out tonight and study.”
‘Oh,” Billy tutted sarcastically ‘Well, it's a shame cause we’re busy tonight.” Not breaking his eye contact Billy deliberately moved his arm from the locker, slowly trailing his hand down your back until he reached the back pocket of your jeans. With one finger he hooked you into him, his hand sliding down into the pocket, his fingers moving slightly against the material and causing a shiver to shake your legs and hips. You fought to keep your breathing steady so as to not show Billy the effects his touch had. ‘We do?” You asked, turning to look up at Billy’s face, eyebrows raised in a questioning expression. Billy chuckled softly, his tongue swishing across his bottom lip quickly as he leant closer to you “Last night? I said I’d take you to the movies.” he was leaning in closer now, and you were very aware of where you were stood, with people walking past and staring curious. Billy didn’t care though, instead leaning in to drawl “maybe get two seats at the back.” He then hooked his hand around your neck and pulled you in, stopping your gasp of surprise by kissing you in a way that made your head spin. You tried to pull away slightly but with a small bite to your bottom lip you felt your shock subside as he felt your body melt. He hummed softly with pleasure, then pulled away, loving the way your head moved forward so to close the gap again.
“I’m sorry man, I didn’t even realise you two were a thing.” You completely forgotten that Ted was there, and you turned back to him, wiping your lips quickly. Billy kept his hand in your back pocket, snd this time you moved so your arm wrapped around his waist.
“Yup.” Billy smirked. “ We are.” He looked down at you, briefly, and there was a quick flicker of a genuine grin “She’s mine.” But when he looked back at Ted, all there was something threatening about his tone as he said “So if I were you Fletch, I’d stay away from her. Got it?”
Ted swallowed. He nodded quickly then back away until he mixed with the rest of the students that were filling outside. Satisfied, Billy turned to talk to you, expecting some sarcastic comment or a teasing “Hargroveeee.”
He was not expecting the slap. Pain shot through his cheek and his stumbled back slightly, his hand cupping the sensitive skin. “What was that for?” He asked, surprised.
“That’s for being a dick.”
“Is it being a dick if I’m just claiming what’s mine?”
“When you phrase it like that, yea.”
Billy scoffed but even he couldn’t hide the fact that this show of control was extremely attractive. He put his hands on his hips, causing the v of his open shirt to widen and show off more of his collarbone. “You’re really full of surprises aren’t you Sweetheart?”
“Oh trust me,” you smiled “you’d haven’t seen the half of it.”
“Oh really?”At this Billy bit his bottom lip, shook his head, then grabbed you by the waist and started pushing you towards the doors. Your brain flustered but you willingly followed him out the front doors or the school and through the car park towards Billy’s Camaro. Billy’s breathing was heavy as if he’d been running as he kept his hand firmly On your back. You both got into the car and he revved off, the smell of burning tires following you as he shot off down the Hawkins high street.
“Where are we going Billy?”
“We are going back to mine,” Billy’s voice gravelled “and you’re going to show me these surprises.” One hand stayed gripped to the steering but he moved the other to rest on your thigh, and you knew in that moment of the true effect you had on him. His kept his foot low on the gas as the car shot through the town, and by the way you were laughing that what he had said was true. You were his, and he was surprised by how much he loved that.
Overview: When your parents arrive out the blue, their first impressions of your boyfriend Steve were not what you’d hoped for. (Based off the meeting the parents scene in About Time)
A/N: First Steve imagine WOO!! Hope you guys like it, I've written a lot the past few weeks so I'll be uploading something else in the next couple of days. Keep sending in the request, I’ve been sent some really good ones so far so thank you.
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Word-count:1000
“okay, I have some bad news.”
Steve looked up from his slice of toast, his cheeks bulging slightly and his eyes widening in alarm “you’re dying.”
You rolled your eyes “no not that bad.”
“Im dying?” Steve’s voice squeaked.
“No,” You had to break your panic to frown with sarcastic humour “how would I know that you were dying before you?”
Steve dramatically threw up his arms, crumbs scattering over his t shirt “I don’t pay attention to things, we know this.”
“no, my parents are in town and they’re coming around.” Now you’d said it out loud the panic resettled and your palms started to sweat violently.
“Oh god. parents.” Despite you and Steve dating for over a year now, Steve had never met your parents due to them living on the other side of the country. This was a blessing that you had known wouldn’t last forever; your parents were the classic middle class protective type that had scared away boyfriends with their “polite interrogation.” Steve had always said that he’d be prepared for when he’d meet them, but at this moment in time he was wearing boxers and eating toast over the sink because he couldn’t be bothered to wash a plate. “when?”
“Now.”
“What?”
“They told me and I didn’t tell you because I thought they’d cancel like they normally do and they didn’t” Your panic was starting to match your boyfriends, pushing both of you to a point of uncontrollable hysteria. Your hands started flapping and Steve started to pace backwards and forwards, hands running through his hair.
“NOW NOW?”
“NOW now now. So you’ll probably want to put on some pants.” You both looked, then nodded. As Steve ran next door to find some clothes whilst muttering “okay okay, damn” you started to panic clean the kitchen, shoving any dirty dishes into the sink and filling it up with soapy water and throwing the empty cans of beer from last night into the bin. Your Dad would still comment on the mess. Hopefully he’d be so distracted by that he’d forget about Steve for a moment.
There was a crash from next door, followed by swearing. You winced “I’m sorry, I’m SO sorry.” “Do they know I exist?” Steve asked.
“Um yeaaa I’ve mentioned something like you but nothing specific,” Steve came out and you sucked in through your teeth, “they’re quite conservative so maybe not those pants.”
Steve jutted his hip out, looking down at the tight fitted jeans “whats wrong with my pants? You love these pants.”
“Baby you know I love those, which will mean that my Dad will hate them.” Your conversation was cut off by the loud blaring from the door bell. You both froze. Looking at the door and then back at each other. “Shit.”
“Just stall them” Steve sprinted next door, and you hear the door to your cupboard being smacked open and clothes being flung onto the floor. You hurried over to the phone connected to the speaker downstairs and said sheepishly “Come on up.”
“WHAT?”
“Im sorry they don't like to be kept waiting,” If you weren’t completely panicking you would laugh at the sight of your boyfriend hopping about, one leg stuck in his trousers as he clattered back in.
He was so panicked now he couldn’t do the buttons up on his trousers, so you rushed over to help him.
Steve was trying to keep his head together “Okay um are we living together?”
“Absolutely not!”
“okay, so avoid the bedroom at all cost. Are we having sex?”
“Umm yea sure,” you did u the last button, straightened up and pointed a finger “but no oral.”
For the first time Steve’s panic broke as he chuckled, shaking his head “I wasn’t going to mention oral.”
‘okay good, don’t.” You went to move away but Steve took advantage of you being this close and wrapped his arms around your waist, using his palms in the small of your back so you pressed up against him. He smiled “It’s going to be fine.”
You sighed, resting your head on his chest ‘I know. I Know I know. I just want them to like you.”
‘well,” your head was titled back so Steve could lean in, the tip of your noses bumping “I’m completely in love with their daughter so that’s one thing we have in common.” He kissed you softly, your body caving in as you allowed your weight to fall into his chest and hips. The sweetness of jam lingered on his lips. Your hands wrapped around his neck, pressing into each other tighter as the adrenaline from your joint nerves thundered through your brains. You broke away, smiled, then, gently moved a part of his newly styled hair out of its shape so it fell loose on his forehead. “You’re good.”
‘And if in doubt, I’ll just talk about oral with your Dad.”
“HARRINGTON!”
“I’m joking I’m joking.” You went to speak but there were three harsh knocks on the front door. Steve sighed, trying to push his nerves out. ‘Okay. It’s time.”
He allowed you to straighten the collar of his shirt, pulled you in once more for a quick kiss, then came with you to the front door, where you pulled it open to your parents.
“Mom, Dad!” You smiled, pulling them both in for a hug and kissing them on the cheek. Your parents asked how you were, commented on how beautiful you were, before your Father noticed Steve awkwardly standing behind you. Face slacking, he nudged your Mom and walked around you, eyeing him up. “And you are?’
“ah Dad,” you moved to stand by Steve, trying not to stutter “This is-“
“Steve Harrington.” Steve held his hand out, shaking your Dad’s hand with confidence that instantly made him ten times for attractive to you “It’s a pleasure to meet you sir.”
“Steve,” Your Dad nodded. “Y/N, I didn’t know you had a roommate.”
“He’s not my roommate, he’s my boyfriend.”
‘Boyfriend?” your Mom’s eyebrows shut up in surprise, and you could see the judging stare overtake your Dad’s face “boyfriend?”
“Yea,” Steve’s confidence had gone “but defiantly no Oral.”
You turned to look at him, eyes widened in alarmed anger, just as Your Mother stifled a chuckle. This wasn’t exactly the first impression that you hoped for.
overview: Whenever you can you and Chris spend a weekend together just the two of you. This weekend is different.
A/N Hey guys!! I’m currently in the middle of exams but I wanted to start writing some of the requests that was sent to me after my last post. Thank you so much for all your kind messages and follows after that post, it really means so much to me. I’m working through the list so I will try and upload as much as I can I promise. I hope you enjoy this one, make sure to keep sending me any requests!
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word count: 3,738
4:55. Five more minutes to go. You were impatient, and having already cleaned your desk three times in the past hour you were checking your emails one last time before you clocked out. Delete, delete, asos discount code saved, the rest thrown in spam. That’s it. All done. Only three more minutes.
“Y/N!”
Jack entered your office without knocking, an ominous stack of papers under his arm. “you’re still here, great. I need you to sort these files out before you go.” The stack fell with a thud onto your desk.
“I can’t,” you shook your head “I’m just about to head out.”
“Oh I’ve also put you on call duty this weekend,” Jack ignored you “so any plans you have cancel them.”
Your spine chilled “I can’t do this weekend. I cant I-“ you shook your head to try and stop your rising panic “I have to have this weekend off.”
“Tough luck. You’re going to want to keep you phone charged, I get a lot of emails.”
“No Jack-“
“Is there a problem?” He scowled.
The clock had struck five, he was going to be there any minute. “I can’t reschedule this plan my boyfriend’s job-“
“sweetheart can I be frank? I don’t give a shit,’ your bosses patient demeanour had gone and his normal irritation came through “I’ve got a golf game tomorrow and you were the last person to ask for time off. So you’re on this weekend.” He slammed his hand on top of the stack of papers and then turned to leave when suddenly a deafening sound came from outside. Shocked, Jack smacked his arm onto your computer, causing him to swear colourfully “WHAT IS THAT?” But you had already rushed to the window, your smile widening.
“He’s here.”
“WHO?”
You weren’t listening, grabbing your bag and throwing your coat over your arm “I’m going.”
“Is that for you?”
“Yes.” You turned once more, determination overruling your fear “Have a nice weekend Jack.” And with that, you flicked off the light switch and walked out the office. The honk was ringing down the corridor as you took the stairs two at a time before bursting out the door. A black range rover was sat in the middle of the carpark, and leaning against the bonnet was your boyfriend Chris. His eyes were covered with sunglasses but you knew his eye brows were raised in a teasing expression as he watched you stride over “are you always that dramatic when leaving work?”
“Only when my boss is being a dick.’ You reached him and cocked your head back so you could kiss him, both smiling against each other as the realisation that this moment had finally happened washed over. “Hi.”
“Hi,” Chris rested his forehead against yours and you breathed deeply, feeling the anger ebb away. “I missed you,” he whispered.
“I missed you too. I couldn’t get out of that place fast enough.”
‘I saw” Chris laughed. He pulled away to open the door next to him to reveal leather seats and your battered rucksack, bulging at the seams. “I packed everything on the list.”
“including the-“
“including my grey jumper for you to wear in the car.”
“thank youuuu,” clambering up into the seat you started to get changed, tights getting ripped and pony tails being loosened. Chris’s jumper had been washed one too many times, the fluffy interior bobbled and stretched to fit his physique; however you always wore it on these trips and had therefore become a running joke. “Where to this time?” You asked, popping your head over the collar to look over at Chris who was fiddling about with the Keys. He slid them in and a second later the car roared and shot out of the car park, the revs barking through the quiet. He didn’t answer until you had made it onto the highway.
“I’m going to keep it a surprise this time.”
“ooooo” you perked up “we haven’t done that for a while. Do I get a clue?”
“nope.”
“pleaseeeeee.”
Chris shook his head chuckling “you’ll like it I promise.” Still determined to know you sat up on your knees, leaning over the gear stick to kiss his cheek “not one hint?”
“No!” Chris laughed. You continued to ask, peppering the half of his face and neck with jokey kisses until his death went slightly ragged. “you’re going to make me crash.” He didn’t move away though, enjoying the way you bumped your nose against his cheekbone as the car steamed ahead. The car flew like a the air of you were on the run, Chris only realising when cramp started to form in his ankle from the clenching. You were so present to him in that moment his mind seems to have fogged over. Luckily You only kissed him a couple more times before sitting back, defeated. He was able to calm his pulse once again. “fine” You rolled your eyes teasingly “I guess I’ll trust you. Give me the aux cord.” You propped your bare feet up onto the dash board and plugged it into your phone and scrolled down until you found the playlist: Love on the weekend.
The weekend was something you and Chris had done for a long as you’d been dating. Although you lived in Boston near his family and spent stints in LA, work and business sometimes kept the pair of you apart for weeks if not months at a time. This had been difficult, until on a whim Chris had done what he would come to do every time; text you the night before that he was picking you up and that you two were going away together. That first time he’d taken you to a beach house where you’d spent the weekend getting a suntan and much needed alone time. That had been nearly two years ago and since the pair of you had taken trips all over the country, with nothing but a car and essentials. They had become your favourite tradition together.
The first song of the playlist started and Chris nodded his head in satisfaction “yessss!’ He pumped his foot on the gas and the car shot down the fast lane, leaving the traffic behind. The music swelled until the rough voice of Journey’s “Don’t stop believing” was blasting through the speakers, matched only by Chris’ rendition. He was tossing his head about and giving it his all, making you laugh so hard you felt the breath pound against your throat and your chest started to tense. The tipping point was when on the final high note your boyfriend’s voice cracked dramatically, to which you had to dig your hands in-between your clenched thighs to stop you from peeing. God it was so good to laugh like this again.
The speakers continued to blast out classics, raging from Kanye West to Disney to Prince until both your voices were frayed and your chests ached from laughing. At one point there was no sound from either of you except for wheezing and knee slapping. You were like children, bubbling with energy and excitement as the feeling of each other there made you giddy.
“We’re nearly there,” Chris was able to heave out later, breathing deliberately to even out his chuckles “keep an eye out for the right exit.”
“exit for what?”
“I’m still not telling you.”
“How am I going to know what the right exit is if I don’t know where we’re going?”
“Hey I gave you a name just trust me.” He reached out and patted your knee, before slowly moving his hand up to rest on your thigh. There was nothing suggestive about it, but you felt your body melt under his touch as he continued to drive. He hummed to the dulcet tones of John Mayer and would occasionally have to shift in his seat but he made sure to keep your thigh at arms length. His palm stayed soft and warm against you as the car pulled off the highway and drove down strips of long roads under golden sun stained foliage. One rumbling dirt track later and the car rolled into an opening, where it stopped and slumped, exhausted. Chris breathed, smiled, and squeezed your leg “we’re here.”
The house sat snuggled in the trees, overlooking a lake that shone brightly. White walls, blue tiles roof, a rickety dock that rocked slightly against the wind. It looked exactly the same as it did in the pictures that were hung around the Evan’s family home. You gasped in excitement “This is the place-“
“From my childhood pictures,” Chris nodded.
“The place you said you’d always take me,” you placed your hand on top of his “I can’t believe you did this.” In your excitement you leant over the gear stick and grabbed Chris’s face In between your hands “Thank you thank you Thank you!” You planted one big kiss on his lips causing him to laugh loudly before leaping out the car, your bare feet lacing with the grass. The pair of you grabbed the bags from the car and dragged them up into the house, abandoning them in the hall way to explore your home for the weekend. An open floor plan of polished wooden floors, white furniture and blue wallpaper stretched through the house, with soft corduroy sofas and shelves of thumbed classic books and board games. It was a weird mix of modern and old; as if time didn’t effect it. You were running around the house, calling for Chris to see something before discovering something else and getting even more excited. When Chris still hadn’t come after the fifth time you called you went clattering down the stairs to find him in the kitchen, already pulling things out of the stocked fridge “pesto eggs?” He asked.
“MMMM YES!” You yelled in excitement. “Sorry,” you quietened “sorry. Yes please.”
“I take it you like the house then?’
“Is this the part of the story where you tell me you’ve bought it?” You slid onto one of the stools by the island, nicking a bit of red pepper from the chopping board.
“ Unfortunately not.”
“shame. I would’ve quit work on the spot to move.”
“It’s that stressful huh?”
“You have no idea.”
Chris stopped stirring “so tell me about it.”
You shook your head, running your hands through your hair once before letting them fall on the table “I don’t want to weigh you down with that. You don’t wanna hear about that.”
“Yes I do,” Chris said “its obviously bothering you.”
“Not tonight Chris. Please.” You didn’t want to think about anything negative this weekend. Not with the limited time you had with him. “your eggs are burning by the way.”
“Huh? Oh Shit,” Chris went back to wildly stirring the contents of his pan, and the conversation was dropped.
************
The next couple days felt like the montage to a rom com movie, a warped bubble where negative thoughts and emotions weren’t allowed to penetrate. There was a lot to Catch up with so the pair of you didn’t waste a single minute. Swimming in the lake, running together through the woods, playing chess whilst drinking too much beer. A lot of random hugs and heated make outs that lead to other things that caused your skin to flush and tingle. This was partly due to Your shoulders getting burnt, resulting with Chris finding great pleasure in occasionally smacking the sensitive skin causing you to scream blue murder whilst chasing after him.
‘I still think I’ll have a hand imprint on my shoulder forever,” you joked. It was the last night and you were cooking whilst Chris picked the movie. He was crouched by the shelfs, his recently showered hair peering his grey t shirt with droplets. “What movie we thinking?” He called.
“hmmmm How about Captain America?”
“Funny.” Chris rolled his eyes. You laughed before diving down to retrieve the steaming dish of Chicken and vegetable pasta from the oven and dishing into bowls.
“Babe! You’ll never guess what movie they have.” Chris lifted the DVD case like a trophy, the title in your direction. You read it and gasped excitedly “About Time? Oh my days yes!”
“You’re gonna cry.”
“I am not.”
“You say that every time.”
“well this time I can definitely say that I will not cry!”
*************
“It’s just” you stuttered, “it just so…so” you had to gulp loudly through the raked sobs “so sad!” Bill Nighy and the little boy started skimming stones on the beach, causing you to whimper loudly, more tears streaming down your flushed cheeks.
“I told you you would cry,” Chris said, but his own eyes were watery and his jaw clenched in emotion. Seeing this made you even more upset and you started to grip onto the pillow, holding your breath so to stop the sobs. It didn’t work. Chris couldn’t stand it anymore; part of him obviously wanted to comfort you but also your turmoil was starting to become comical. “sweetheart,” he laughed “come here.” He dragged you over to sit in between his legs, your back against his chest so he could try and stop you from crying. ‘I’m fine, I’m fine,” you breathed “I’m not going to-oh my god they’re hugging.” The crying was uncontrollable now “This is the last hug they’re ever going to have together.”
“Okay you need to tell me whats wrong now,” Chris’ tone shifted to worry. He’d never seen you this upset over this movie before “hey, hey. Talk to me.”
“I don’t want you to leave me tomorrow.”
“what?”
“You’re going to leave tomorrow and I’ll be left with an apartment that is too big for just one person, a job I hate and the constant reminder that these weekends are the only things that I actually enjoy in life.”
The movie continued to play but Chris wasn’t watching anymore. Instead he sat there, struggling to find the right words to say. He didn’t want to ask, you’d specifically told him not to ask this weekend, the itch of knowing was starting to burn in his brain. “What’s wrong with work?”
You huffed, flinging your head back to knock against his shoulder “I hate it Chris. I used to love working there, but I just can’t do it anymore. The last time I had a weekend off was our last weekend 3 months ago.”
“why?”
“Because Jack makes me work so he can piss about golfing and spend the weekends screwing his assistant. I see the texts,” you nodded as Chris’s eyebrows shot up in surprise “they’re just as awful as you can imagine.”
“Why didn’t you tell me this?”
“about the affair? It’s not tha-“
“No. About work.”
“Oh.” You shrugged, wiping the back of your sleeve across your face “I didn’t want you to worry about me that’s all.” Feeling your boyfriend huff you felt yourself get defensive “you’re away for so long I didn’t want you to have to take off anymore time than you had to just because my career turned shit.”
‘That’s not fair,” Chris shook his head “I should’ve known.”
“Why? What would’ve you done?’ You were sitting up now, frowning at him, arms crossed “Quit your work and moved back full time to Boston?’
“Maybe!”
“No you wouldn’t of!”
“But at least I would’ve had that option!” His eyes flashed with a mixture of pain and annoyance “Y/N how am I supposed to be there for you if you don’t tell me these things?”
“That’s not fair Chris.”
“NO,” he snapped “what’s not fair is finding out that you’re feeling like this and yet I was the last person to know!”
“If you were here more YOU’D KNOW!”
There was a horrible silence. Shocked, you put your fingers over your lips, as if trying to grab back the words that were still ringing through the room. You were both shocked; hurt plastered on both your faces. You wanted to take them back, to rewind time so you could start this conversation again, to finish this weekend in a way that you will treasure and picture for the next weeks as you wait for him to come home to you. “I’m sorry.” You finally spoke “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean it.”
Chris nodded slowly, and you noticed that his eyes were glistening with tears and you felt your brain screaming in fear and your heart be squished like a juice box “yea you did.”
“NO! No I didn’t.” You pulled him closer “I’m just upset about work, I’m taking it out on you.”
“But you do wish It don’t you?” Chris whispered.
“Of course I wish you were here more,” You nodded “but acting’s your dream. Of course I want you to be doing that.”
“Im so sorry Babe,” he pushed out a heavy sigh to stop the emotions from stunting his voice “I wish I knew how bad it was.”
“It’s not your fault You didn’t know. I wasn’t telling you.”
“I should’ve picked up on it. If I’d known I’d-“
“It’s not your fault Chris. I’m sorry for not telling you.”
Chris smiled softly. He wrapped his arms around your shoulders, locking his hands together so you were pressed against his shoulder. He kissed the top of your head, nodding slightly “This was not how I was thinking this conversation was going to go.”
You laughed, snorting slightly due to the snot that had built up from your previous sobs “me neither.”
“And I was looking forward to telling you about my plans for after the movie.”
You felt your heart sink slightly. These conversations were always awfully painful. “Did your agent get another script for you?”
“Actually no. He won’t be getting me any for a while.”
“What?’ You looked up at him, confused “why?”
“because I told him I didn’t want any. Because I’m taking a little break.”
‘Chris? Please say you didn’t do that because of me!”
“only partly,” Chris smiled guiltily “I just miss Boston. I miss my parents, My nieces and nephews, You. I just want to spend some time here. Spending time with my family.”
The tears were falling again, only this time they were ones of happiness “you serious? You’re coming home?”
Chris nodded, savouring this moment for as long as he could. “5 more weeks and then I’m yours.”
******************
The Boston skyline had never looked so unwelcoming. Despite the sunrise bathing the windows with molten pink and blue reflections, they were a reminder that you were back in reality. You’d left the house early that morning with the remise you’d return in the summer with the whole family. It had still been difficult to say goodbye. The entire drive back you and Chris only spoke a few times, both too nervous of what to say in these last moment. Chris’s hand was back on your thigh, but this time your hand was intertwined with his, your only lifeline from breaking down into uncontrollable tears once more. Although this was the last goodbye you’d have to say for a long time, this one felt the most difficult because of the reality of what they were going back to. The buildings of the city grew thicker and thicker as you drove down main streets and over bridges until all too soon the looming signs floor your office building started to come, and then the ruling for the carpark, and in no time at all Chris was pulling into one of the visitors spots and switching off the engine. “we’re here.”
“yea.” A silence. “ Thanks for dropping me off by the way.”
“Yea of course.” Chris swallowed. Neither of you moved. No one made the move to say goodbye. But you knew it was going to happen, and your grip on his hand got tighter as you realised that now was the moment to let go.
In the end it was him. It left you feeling empty, like you’d dropped something into water and you knew that you were never going to get it back, and that’s when the tears started to fall again. In a moment Chris jumped out of the car and ran over to your side of the car, opening your door so he was able to scoop you into a hug. “ I know,” he whispered as you clung to him “ I know.”
“i don’t know if I can do this Chris,” you sniffed into his neck.
“Yes you can. You can sweetheart. Remember what we said.” He kissed your ear lightly “Just five more weeks. Five more weeks and the I’m home, you can quit your job here and we’ll figure something out together okay? Okay?” His tone made you move your gaze so you were looking at his wide eyed expression, full of promise and reassurance “We’ll figure this out together.”
“Five weeks.”
“five weeks and then I’m yours.”
You nodded, sniffing “Okay,” You breathed “Okay I’ll do it.”
“You can do it.” He kissed you then, and his lips tasted of salt but they were familiar and warm and his, and you already missed him so much five weeks suddenly felt like a lifetime.
“I am,” he rested his head against yours once more “so proud of you. I really am.”
You nodded. You kissed him as long as your lungs could muster and this time you let go, flattening your skirt and slipping on your heels as Chris grabbed your bags from the boot and handing them to you. He kissed you once more, told you he loved you and then walked back around to sit in the car. You walked around to his door and leaned in through the open window to kiss him again.
“I can’t watch you walk away,” he confessed “because if I do all I’ll want to do is stay.”
You nodded “That’s fine. I’ll see you in five weeks.”
‘Five weeks.”
“I love you Chris.”
One more kiss, and then he pushed the car into gear and pulled away, leaving you to wave goodbye to him. As he did, the windows rolled down, and a second later you heard the opening chords to “Love on the weekend” play. He didn’t look back, but you knew that he too was already counting down the days until the next time you two could see each other.
Overview: You have a nice evening in with Chris, including romance books and bubble baths.
A/N I KNOW IT’S BEEN AGES I’M SORRY!!! the amount of work I have is actually insane but I’m trying really hard to write more. A few weeks until my exams are over and then I’m free to write as much as I want! I’ve also been having a very strong Chris Evans phase so I HAD to write about him so I hope you like it. Thank you so much for all your support these past few weeks. Any requests just message me! :)
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word count: 1350
“I’m home!”
“In here!” You called. As you turned down the music you could hear him take the stairs two at a time, his heavy timberlands thumping on the carpet before stopping outside the bathroom door. Rapping with two knuckles his asked “can I come in?”
“It’s open.” The door swung open to reveal a crumpled Chris, the shadow of stubble prominent on his jaw. You looked up briefly from the pages, smiling warmly.
“you alright love?”
“I’m much better now ” he smirked. To him there was something quite lovely about seeing you lying in the bath, hair knotted haphazardly on the top of your head so the ends didn’t trail into the bubbles. “New hairstyle?”
“It cost me thousands” you jokingly flipped a bit of hair by your ear “or shall I say you. Thanks for the credit card by the way.”
“I knew you were only with me for money.”
“And your ass,” you winked “I can’t deny the ass.”
To please you Chris did a slow spin, taking his time when his back was turned, the small giggle from you making him smile. He then walked up behind you and kissed the top of your head “its late. You didn’t have to stay up.”
“ I wanted to to see you. There’s food left in the kitchen if you want some.”
He shook his head, “I’m not that hungry. Thanks though.” The weight of his chin caused your neck to crumple in a little, and as he wrapped his arms lightly around your neck he weighed down your shoulders. You could feel his exhaustion weighing down, and the occasional heavy sigh that escaped his lips caused your heart to twinge a little.
“how was your day?’
“Busy. We started to film some of the bigger stunt shots today so I feel like I could collapse at any moment.’
‘I’ll get out of the bath soon so you can have it,” you offered.
“Or,” Your husbands voice got lower “I could join you here.” He moved to kiss you lightly on your bare shoulder. Feeling you gasp he moved higher, aiming for the crook in your neck that he knew caused you to unravel. “hmm?” He hummed against your skin.
“I-“ you seemed to have forgotten how to breath “I want to get this done first,” you admitted, brandishing the book. The ends had trailed in the water and were already starting to curl. “cliff hanger. But later?’ You snuggled slightly into Chris’s jaw. He let out a slight growl and dropped his head to rest on your shoulder, emitting mock sobs. You laughed “I know I know” you ran your fingers through his hair “later I promise.”
“I’m holding you to that,” he reached over and turned your wrists so he could see “new book?”
“oh yea. I finished the other one.” It had been thrown on top of your pile of clothes “you were right; she took him back.”
“I told you! All those books are the same.”
“They’re not!”
Chris raised his eyebrows.
“Honestly I bet if you read one you’d actually like it.”
Chris picked up the battered book off the floor “I'm already cringing at the cover. But you know what,” seeing your challenging look “I will take you up on that. I’m going to give it a try.”
“Great!” You looked down to read again; read another paragraph, flipped the page. Chris’s broad shadow was still blocking the lamps light.
“Is there something wrong?”
“I need you to move your legs.”
“Chris no, I said later,” you laughed.
“No not for that. I want to get in the bath.” He was already slipping off his shoes, flinging his socks to the side.
“I don’t know if there’s enough roo-“ you stopped just as you watched Chris’s shirt come off. That view never got old. “Huh. How about that?”
“You were saying?” Chris smiled.
“I still don’t think you’ll be able to get in but I guess if I must,” you moved your legs so your knees poked up from the bubbles. Stripping until he was all skin and makeup smudges he gingerly lowered himself in. Because the water was hotter than he thought he hissed, causing his arm to slip and for him to smack onto the bath floor. His leg, slipping on the suds on the bath, shot forwards and kicked your upper thigh. You eyes shot wide, the book dipped into the water again as a sharp yell shot through the room.
“I’m so sorry!” Chris yelled.
‘Bloody hell Chris!”
“It was an accident!” He couldn’t help but laugh though by the way you clutched your leg, laughing but nursing the red patch on your thigh. “We need to get a bigger bath,” your tone edged with a whine. Then realising that your book had got even more wet you fished it out of the water, letting out a frustrated “GRRRR.”
‘I’m good now if its makes you feel better,” Chris said.
“oh wow really? That’s really great for you. I am SO HAPPY for you.”
Chris brandished the book “I’m trying to read.”
“you’re such a-“
“I’m reading.”
“CHRIS-“
“READING!” He made a deliberate move of opening the book and raising it to his eye line but his shoulders shook slightly.
“You’re so irritating,” you laughed through gritted teeth.
“Love you too baby.”
You both went back to reading, pages turning and legs sloshing in the water. Occasionally Chris would say something like “I can’t believe I’m reading this,” but the left side got thicker and his eyes racked across the page faster. He was enjoying it; you could see it. When he got excited he would jiggle his knees.
“You enjoying that?” You smiled.
Chris scoffed “no. I’m hating it.” He turns another page “I can’t stand it.” Another pause. “Why is she even considering him anyway?’
“who?”
“the other guy!” He rolled his eyes to say who else would I be thinking of idiot “It’s really annoying.”
You shook your head “so just stop.”
“Reading this gives me an excuse to stay here.”
“ewww gross.”
“what?” He kicked you, gently this time “I can’t say stuff like that?”
“That was just so cliche! What’s next, you’re going to give me a foot rub and call me the most beautiful human on the planet?”
“Was that a hint?”
“No. Maybe.”
Instead he preoccupied himself with building towers of bubbles, scooping them from your stomach and legs before smacking it down. He did this as you caught up more on each others days, listening to rants and jokes and whining about scripts and coffee machines. Occasionally you’d get distracted by a flying ball of bubbles from Chris’s sculptures. It got to the point where the water was getting colder and all your desire to read was being replaced by something else. Chris had picked the book back up and was reading, but now all you wanted to was see how far you could push him. So slowly, you moved your leg a little higher up his. He didn’t notice; so you raised it a little higher, just above the knee.
“Sweetheart.”
“mm?” You widened your eyes innocently.
“I’m reading.”
“I know.” This time you went to move higher, and feeling this Chris hand slipped under the water to grab your ankle. He didn’t look away from the page but his smirk grew. He started to move his hand up and down the back of your leg, the heel to the back of the knee.
“Chris?”
“yes?’
“It’s later.”
His eyes went wide, his whole body tensed, and suddenly he jumped as if he’d just been stabbed. He vaulted out the bath, the book splashing into the suds as he span around “You’re not joking?”
“I’m not joking,” you laughed. Chris jumped over his clothes, wrenched open the door, went to run then turned around once more, pointing directly at you. “I’ll see you in one minute.”
‘I’ll be there,” You watched your husband run out to the room, whooping down the corridor. You gave him a minutes, made him wait, and then jumped out the bath, discarding the book. What was about to happen was way more important. Puddles of soapy water splashed onto the floor and were left to soak, and the books shrivelled until they disintegrated in the sun the next morning.
hello im just stopping by bc i just read ‘our place’ and wanted to let you know your writing is fantastic and i can’t wait to read more of your stuff!!!💜
Thank you so much!!! I’m really glad you enjoy them that honestly makes the writing all worth it 😊 Thanks for sending me a message xx
Hii. I am not sure if you're a new blog or not and I also don't know if you take requests...! Do you read the cassie clare books? Or maybe you just have good taste when it comes to choosing urls, haha
I do take requests and OH MY DAYS sis Cassandra Clare’s books are my entire life you don’t even know get me a Herondale or a Julian any day 😂 xx
Overview: You and Ben take Frankie on a winter beach walk :)
A/N: It’s been a while I know. Who would’ve thought being in your final yea of A-Levels actually meant you had to work? I’m back on top (at least for the moment) so I am catching up on the some writing so hopefully I’ll upload some more soon. Since my last imagine there are a lot more of you so this is just a quick Hi and thank you for reading my stuff it really means a lot. I hope you like this imagine too. If you have any requests send me a message :)
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Word count:1615
Frankie was barking with wild excitement. His head kept popping up from the boot, no matter how many times you asked him to get down. When he saw the glittering mass of sea the dog got so excited, he started barking at the window, only stopping when he got too excited and smacked his head on the window.
“Is he alright?” Ben whipped his head around.
“Watch the road!” You laughed, lightly pushing his cheek to look forward “and he’s fine. Ok, next right.”
The music blasted from the speaker of your old car, the bass so strong it was causing the tub of chewing gum to vibrate violently.
“Remind me why we had to drive your old car?” Ben half asked, half yelled.
“It’s a tradition! I always come to the beach in this car.” Your feet stretched further on the dashboard, looking over at Ben who eyes were back on the road. Damn, he looked cute; particularly when he chuckled at your last comment, shaking his head slightly. As he continued to drive to the shore, your chest felt warm. It felt great to be home.
As soon as you pulled into the makeshift car park and the engine spluttered off Frankie was at it again, scratching against the boot door and whining. You opened the door and he shot off like a cork. Ben called him to stop and the dog skidded to a halt, kicking sand up into a small hazy cloud. The car park was deserted, normality in the middle of February. The tracks of car tyres and dragged body boards with pattering’s of feet had been dusted away, making the place seem almost forgotten. It made your blood tingle with excitement. That was until You peered into the boot and groaned “oh noooo.”
“What?”
“I didn’t bring enough layers,” you shook your head “I’m such an idiot it’s freezing.”
“But Ben, I never get cold at the beach,” your boyfriend mimicked you higher pitch voice “The beach was practically my bedroom when I lived here.”
“Oh, you’re so FUNNY!” after failing to think of a comeback all you could do was mock his laugh. Ben’s face softened.” I’ll keep you warm love” he grabbed your hand and tucked It into the nook of his elbow, yelling at Frankie to stop sniffing and start walking.
Light grey clouds scuttled across the sky, a watery sun peaking through the cracks onto the deserted beach. It was nearly golden hour and a chilling breeze lapped at the sparkling water. The scent of salt stuck in your nostrils. Frankie, too excited to stay with you, bolted down the sandy path and shot towards the water. His bark caused seagulls to fly from where they stood, cawing indignantly. You and Ben took your time, him holding onto your hand so you wouldn’t slip on the crumbling sand dunes. Voices raised to be heard over the wind you two huddled close together as you walked by the shore. Occasionally Ben would break away to throw Frankie his tennis ball; bowing when you’d applaud a particularly long shot. His cheeks were flushed pink with cold but he was grinning widely, his blonde hair tangling into a messy mop. One time you stretched out to fix it but he swatted away “I want the beach look,” he laughed. It was nice to see him so relaxed. Back in the city Ben rarely had time to stop; if it wasn’t a movie then it was interviews, dinners with directors, gala or benefit nights. They were fun, but it was always work. Here, he could concentrate on him and you. Being just your boyfriend, not working you into his schedule like you’re some kind of business partner.
“I can see why you and your friends would come here,” he said, “It really is beautiful.”
“My friends mum owns the beach café on the hill” you pointed to the cliff that curved towards the sea “we used to spend all summer making bonfires and eating free chips.”
“Please say she’ll give us free chips,” Ben groaned.
You shrugged “She might give them to me.”
“Will she change her mind if I use my full name?”
“Using your fame for free food?” you pretended to wipe tears from your eyes “I’m so proud.”
An older couple were strolling in the opposite direction. They wore matching green coats and walked with the lack of purpose that was common on a Sunday afternoon. They smiled sweetly at you and Ben, the way that you cuddled into each other, your paths weaving haphazardly when one of you would laugh so hard, you’d stumble. The wife turned to her husband and asked if he remembered what it was like to be that young and in Love. The husband looked over, saw the way you’d steal kisses and how Ben would jump on your back in a piggyback motion, roaring with laughter when you’d almost topple over head first into the sand. A small light haired dog yapped by the sea shore in delight, biting at the waves and looking confused when he wasn’t unsuccessful. The husband looked back at his wife and smiled. Yes, he said, I still feel like that now. He loved the way his wife blushed,linking her hand with his. They continued to walk across the beach, the sound of you two ringing in their ears.
“Did you see that couple walking along the beach?” you asked, dusting sand off your knees and upper thighs-it had already gritted into your wellie boots. “They were so cute. Do you think you’ll still love me when I’m that age?”
“I’ve got to be with you until we’re like that?”
“Rude.”
“I have no doubt about it,” Ben winked. He got distracted saw his dog splashing in the froth “Frankie,” he sloshed over to scratch behind his dog’s ears “You coming?” he called to you still on the shore. You shook your head and tried to protest, but Ben wouldn’t hear it. “Come on,” he grabbed your hand and dragged you in.
“Ben nooo” you tried to pull back but your boyfriend was persistent.
“If you don’t stop whining, I’ll push you.”
“You wouldn’t.”
He wiggled his eyebrows before gently pushing your shoulder “oops.”
“Stop it.”
He did it again, harder. “My bad.”
“Ben,” you shoved him and he stumbled, causing seawater to slosh onto his jeans.
“Oh, you wanna play that game?” light shoving dissolved into a play fight, pushing hard enough to stumble but not to fall over-that was until your boot slipped into a dent in the sea floor. You wobbled, gasped, and fell with a soft smack into the sea. Instantly your skin numbed with cold, skin and clothing sticking together like glue. Your eyes stung with salt as you gasped for air. Although you couldn’t see you could hear Ben laughing hysterically.
“Oh my- “
“I’m so sorry,” Ben gasped “You just…. you” he couldn’t finish his sentence as he fell into silent laughter.
“BEN!” You watched your boyfriend flailing about, clutching his sides and his laugh becoming higher and higher with hysteria. “WHAT HAVE YOU DONE?” When you stood up your clothes made a sucking gloop before starting to pour like a shower. Your teeth started to chatter. “I’m so cold.”
“I wish I’d filmed it.”
“I have no spare clothes. I’m cold and wet and I have no clothes. DON’T YOU DARE MAKE A JOKE,” you pointed warningly. Ben closed his mouth again. When you tried to walk out of the sea more water trickled down your stomach. Tears pricked at your eyes. “I’m cold.”
“Oh Y/N” Ben’s face softened as he saw how upset you were. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to.”
“You got me wet,” you whined.
“I’m not going to make a joke, I’m not going to make a joke,” he closed his eyes and shook his head smirking. Ben followed you as you went out to the sand, then started to take off his jacket. Ordering you to take off your wet clothes he pulled off his big hoodie, goosebumps already littering his skin “Here.” Without hesitation, you pulled the jumper over your head. Although the warmth spread across your skin that wasn’t enough for Ben, who pulled you into his chest and wrapped his coat around so you were smooshed into his chest. He rubbed his hands violently on your back. You moaned softly as the warmth made your skin itch slightly. Ben rested his chin on your forehead, drawing you closer as your shakes subsided. He didn’t want to let go though. “Warmer?”
“Much warmer.”
“You’ll laugh about this one day.”
You poked at his side, causing him to jerk “ow! Okay maybe not.”
“Stop moving I’m getting cold again,” you smiled.
“You were the one who made me move!”
“You pushed me into the sea so I win this argument.”
Ben shook his head but he was smiling. You lodged your chin onto Ben’s chest, admiring this angle of his jaw and lashes. “Wanna go get those chips now?”
“In a minute. I want to hold you like this for just a bit longer.”
In the background, Frankie was barking at a seagull. The waves crashed onto the sand. The sun was starting to set, staining the sky a burnt orange and smudged with grey clouds. The jumper was soft against your skin, and you already knew you were going to steal this jumper. Ben felt a wave of calm with you in his arms, your heart beating against his chest.
“I would push you in the sea a thousand times more if it meant I could hold you like this.”
“So, you admit you pushed me on purpose?” you teased.
“I’ve got better things to do with my Saturdays...” Ben Hardy!Roger Taylor X Reader
Overview: The night that you, your boyfriend Roger Taylor and band mate Brian May meet Freddie is one to remember
A/N: Iya lovesssss! I have been in such a writing mood the past few days it’s insane. I’ve planned loads but all I’ve been thinking about is Ben Hardy so I hope you’ve been enjoying the content. The support the guys have been giving me is incredible and I cannot thank you all enough. Hope you enjoy.
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Word count:1900
The crescendo of clashing symbols cut through the screaming crowd. Even though you’d seen the band play dozens of times, you couldn’t help but jump around with everyone else, clapping until your hands were numb and red. There wasn’t a single person in the pub that wasn’t going wild. Brian, Roger and Tim all beamed widely, their jubilance clear even in the low lighting. Girls were swooning in the front row, one almost fainted. “Thank you everyone!” Tim yelled into the microphone “We are smile, GOODNIGHT!”
The crowd roared. Brian and Tim bowed and walked off the stage, slipping out back stage door and out of sight. Roger hesitated. He stood and waved at a couple of people, throwing his drumsticks at a pair of screaming girls. He looked up and his eyes met yours. You waved, and his face broke into the biggest grin of the night. You giggled at the slight blush that dusted his cheeks, but he stood his ground and pointed directly at you with one strong arm. There were wolf whistles in your direction but he didn’t care; he winked, grinned cheekily, and then bounded off stage after his friends. The crowd started to disperse, most going to the bar to get a drink. Everyone was in high spirits, talking excitedly about how great the band were. It made you so happy knowing how much they were loved; their talents finally being recognised. Normally you’d wait until the equipment had been packed away before seeing the boys, but this time you couldn’t wait. you battled against the crowd and slipped out the back. The security guard nodded you through. Weaving through the corridors the summer air hit you, as you walked out into an old courtyard. your legs shivered slightly-you’d only worn a skirt and a t-shirt.
The boys were sat in the back of their van, surrounded by speakers and instrument cases. You walked over to them, smiling. Roger stopped the conversation when he saw you. “It’s your number one fan!” You smiled. Roger’s face softened as he threw his arms around you, nuzzling into your neck playfully. He felt both his heart and pulse quicken, and it wasn’t because of the performance high. You kissed his jaw lightly and you drew apart, but you kept your hands clasped around his waist. Tucking a loose stand of hair behind your ear, the drummer smiled “enjoyed the show?”
“You guys were so good” you gushed.
“Thanks Y/N” Brian smiled. Tim didn’t say anything. He was always the broodier one of the band, and therefore your least favourite member. You turned back to Roger. “Did you see me in the crowd?”
“You were all I was looking at.”
He smelt faintly of sweat, but it wasn’t off-putting. “I’ll go get us some celebratory drinks,” you smiled “my treat.”
Brian and Roger exclaimed joyfully; Tim just nodded. Kissing Roger quickly You left the three and jogged back inside to the mass of bodies, all a lot louder and drunker. Stu at the bar recognised you, so when he saw you, he came over and asked if you wanted the usual. Giving him the money, you left a minute later with four bottles of beer balanced precariously in your arms. You were able to dodge most of the crowd; that was until you thought you heard someone call your name and you turned to bang into someone’s chest. One of the beers sloshed onto his shoe.
“I am so sorry!” You gasped
The man wasn't annoyed though. He smiled, and your eyes naturally drew to the large teeth poking out of his lip. When he smiled, the teeth became even bigger, but it was so charming that you felt your lips tug up to match him.
”its fine,” the man reassured ”looks like you've got a handful anyway.”
You nodded. Still clutching onto the bottlenecks you freed a finger to waggle ”I like your outfit.”
His eyes shined as he absentmindedly stroked the blue jacket that matched with his flared trousers. ”Thanks.”
You smiled, apologised once more, and then continued on your way through the crowd, this time taking more care and not spilling any more as you made your way back outside.
You didn't expect to see the band rounded on each other, an amalgamation of anger and hurt etched on Brian and Roger’s faces.
”humpy bong?”
“humpy bong, ” Tim nodded ”They’re going places, they’re gonna be big.”
“Humpy bong. Are you Joking?” Roger spat, his eyes flashing with rage.
“Don’t do it, Tim, ” Brian begged. But Tim’s face was set, and you noticed his guitar and amp were packed in their travel cases by his side. He shouldered his guitar. ”I’m sorry guys but we’re not going anywhere with this. What college gigs, pubs?” He shrugged, and the victim card became obvious. He was trying to make it seem like it wasn't a big deal-he was a coward as well as I quitter. ” I've got to give it a go.”
You didn't watch Tim as he walked past you, didn't catch was he said. Neither were you watching Brian shake his head in defeat and sit with his hands running through his hair in frustration.
You were watching Roger. He was standing there, hands slack by his side, watching the retreating back of Tim. His face a moment ago full of anger, was now crinkled in disappointment. He looked like he’d just lost someone close to him, and in some ways, he had-he loved his band and he’d just watched it crumble to ruin.
You placed the drinks on an amp and slowly walked up to him. Clocking you the drummer tried to drag up a smile. ”I guess you just heard all of that.”
”I’m so sorry babe, ” you whispered. you pulled him close, one hand rubbing soothingly on his back and the other cupping his jaw. He closed his eyes and moved to kiss your wrist-there was nothing else he could say. He was breathing deliberately, trying to calm himself down. He rested his forehead against yours, and you didn't move until his chest rose and fell at a more normal rate.
You understood that he wanted a second. Instead, you walked over to sit next to Brian, offering him a beer which he took.
”Tim’s an asshole.”
”he is, ” Brian exhaled a laugh.
”you’ll find someone new. Someone better.”
Brian patted your knee in a friendly manner, but he still looked crestfallen.
”I think he’s right, ” Roger said. He'd lite a cigarette, and the smoke billowed around his face. He went to sit down in the van, pausing to move your legs so they were draped over his lap. ”The show was a load of bollocks.”
Brian frowned ”I mean, there was room for improvement yea.”
“I’ve got better things to do with my Saturdays, ” Roger’s hand moved a little higher up your thigh, just under the hem of your skirt ”I could give you her name.”
He winked at you. You tried not to show on your face how that affected you. He took another drag on his cigarette, but he was smiling cheekily now. Brian rolled his eyes.
Someone stopped by the van. It was the guy you bumped into in the bar. He recognised you and smiled, and you smiled back. His gaze went to the band.
“Enjoyed the show.”
“Thanks, mate, ” Roger said.
“Thank you.” Brian smiled.
“I’ve been following you for a while actually.” the man confessed, shuffling slightly with awkwardness ”Smile. makes sense for a dental student.” he nodded at Roger, who looked surprised. He turned to go Brian ”and you’re Astrophysics aren’t you?”
“Yea.”
“Makes you the clever one, ” the man grinned cheekily. Brian's brows shot up, but there was humour in his tone when he turned to Rogers look of slight put out
”Yea I suppose it does.”
You laughed. When Roger frowned at you, tongue in cheek, you rubbed his arm comfortingly, still smiling.
I’m Freddie, ” the man, Freddie, introduced ”I study design. Also, I write songs. Might be of interest to you.” he pulled out a wad of folded paper from his back pocket, showed it, then blushed and stowed it away again. ”It’s just a bit of fun really.”
“You’re 5 minutes too late.”
“Our lead singer just quit.” Brian shook his head. Roger drank some beer. Freddie's eyes, however, had suddenly lit up. He caught your eye and you grinned, goading him on.
“So you’ll need someone new.”
“Any ideas?”
Freddie paused. And then, he threw his head back, hand on hip and no doubt shaking his voice. ”what about me?”
Roger laughed. ”Uh, not with those teeth mate.”
Freddie's face fell. You smacked Rogers arm. He spilled beer down his shirt, which made him yelp. ”don't be a dick, ” you frowned. Roger went to protest, but you shook your head. You very rarely got annoyed by him, and in those moments he had learnt to do what you said. To show he was sorry he circled his thumb against your skin as he turned back to Freddie.
This didn't phase Freddie. Instead, he steadied himself, opened his mouth, and started to sing.
”I know what I’m doing....... I got a feeling I should be doing all right......”
Your jaw dropped. His voice was incredible, rich and full and it hung like warm air in summer. The three of you looked at one another. And then, Brian and Roger sang, and the harmony blended together so well it caused goosebumps to erupt all over your skin
”.....doing all right.”
****
”He was amazing!” you exclaimed, carrying one of Roger’s symbols out to the van. Freddie was coming tomorrow for his first rehearsal, and Brian couldn’t contain his excitement. Roger carried the last of the drum set into the car, slammed the doors and locked it. He leaned against the van, ”you were right. About Freddie. The guys good.”
”I'm always right, ” you grinned. Roger Smiled,both hands in his pockets.
”want to celebrate?”
”does that mean going back to yours and having sex?”
”You said it, not me.” be reached out and grabbed you by your belt, pulling you in close enough for the smell of cigarettes to waft over you. ”You going to stay the night then gorgeous?”
”I've already called sick of work.”
Roger closed his eyes and mouthed ”yes”, causing you to laugh. He lent forward and kissed you, knocking any breath out of your chest. His hand stroked your cheek but refrained from doing any more for fear of being seen in public. He led you around to the passenger door and helped you inside. Racing around to the back he hopped into the driving seat and put the car in gear.
“I’m sorry I need one more, ” he groaned. He grabbed your face and kissed you again, this time more passionate and desperate. Fingers tangled in hair and Roger’s hip ached with pain as it banged against the gear stick but he didn’t care. The feeling of your chest rising and falling heavily made his body scream with longing. “How quick can you get back to yours?” you breathed.
Roger smirked against your swollen lips ”I could get there in 15 minutes.”
Side note: I was shooketh in the middle of starbucks when I saw this because Hello i’M sOrRy
Overview: You and Ben move into your first place together :)
A/N: so, yea. I went there. I decided to trigger myself and then I thought I’ll just trigger others with me. I hope you guys like it, thank you so much for the support you legends.
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word count:1336
“Ben?”
“Yea?”
“Can you help me please?”
Ben poked his head out of the door to see you leant against the wall, a shiny sheen of sweat on your forehead. The mattress you’d lugged up almost 12 flights of stairs sagged against the banister. Your boyfriend smiled “why didn’t you take the lift?”
“WOW, I hadn’t thought about that?” you rolled your eyes “you really are smart, aren’t you?”
“ooo sorry,” Ben chuckled, walking down the stairs and leaning on the mattress. “It didn’t fit did it? Why didn’t you just ask me?”
“I wanted to do it myself,” you confessed. Ben smiled. He then grabbed one side of the mattress and started to pull it up the stairs. Together the pair of you were able to move it the rest of the way up the stairs and into the new apartment. You dumped it in the middle of what would be the living room, piles of boxes like skyscrapers inhabiting everywhere else. You grinned widely “That’s it,” you turned to Ben “we’ve officially moved in together.” Ben couldn’t help but scoop you up and spin you around, enjoying the way your laugh echoed through out the empty space. “finally, I won’t have to deal with you being clingy when I had to leave your apartment every night.”
Your head was spinning slightly so the soft punch that was supposed to hit his chest brushed his arm. “I wouldn’t call it whining, more separation issues.”
He grabbed your chin gently with his thumb and knuckle and pulled you in to kiss you. The all too familiar feeling of melting took over your body as he pulled you in closer. Just then your mum walked in, carrying the last box from the car. She chuckled “at least wait until I’ve gone.”
“Sorry,” Ben smiled shyly “have my parents already gone?”
“this was the last box in their car,” your mum said. She dumped it on the floor before opening her arms “come give me a hug before I go.” You went over and squeezed your mum, suddenly feeling a little sad. Even though you’d lived away from home for a while it was always difficult to say goodbye. “You’ll love it,” she whispered in your ear, before tapping your cheek lightly with her ringed hand. “Come on Ben,” she smiled, pulling Ben into a hug and giving him three quick rubs on the back. Ben kissed her cheek and then with a wave she went, closing the door with a click. It was just the two of you now.
“Do you want to start unpacking now or call it a day?”
“We can sleep in here tonight,” you said “I can’t be assed to set up the bed frame.”
Ben grabbed the box labelled “duvet” and dumped the contents onto the floor. You arranged the duvet, pillows and blankets until they resembled a nest on top of the mattress; Ben went into the kitchen and grabbed a pan and the carton of milk you’d bought earlier.
“You want to watch a movie?” you called.
“You pick,” Ben said “My Mac’s on the chair.”
By the time you’d picked the movie, a classic that you both loved, Ben brought back two large steaming mugs of hot chocolate. He flopped onto the bed and wrapped a blanket around your shoulders. “Good choice,” he smiled. The pair of you fell into a comfortable silence, only broken occasionally by the slurp of drinks. Ben had made it the way you loved it- full fat milk, cream and chocolate powder. It was those little things that made him so amazing; he did it all to make you happy.
The movie had started to pick up but your eyes were glued on Ben. He was leaning on one elbow, his forehead lined slightly as he concentrated on the screen. He’d been wearing a beanie all day, so his hair was disheveled. The crease of his mouth was stained with chocolate. He was naturally gorgeous and the sight of him made it difficult to breath. He kept his eyes on the screen but he said “You’re not watching.”
“How could I be watching the movie when you’re so much better to look at?”
That got his attention. He slinked an arm around you and pulled himself close so you were lying on his chest. He engulfed you in his arms and peppered your forehead with soft kisses, only stopping when your baby hairs tickled his nose. It got warmer as the blanket tangled around your limbs, but you didn’t want to move it for fear the moment would be broken. The movie was left abandoned; instead you watched the light on the ceiling change from a soft gold to a deep purple blue. It was the middle of winter in London and normally you would have been freezing cold, but you were warm against Ben’s chest as you wrapped your arms under his t-shirt. He hissed slightly as your cold hands touched his warm back, but enjoyed the feeling of your fingertips stroking the softer parts of his skin. He lent his cheek against your head. A feeling of total bliss filled him, one that only you were able to give him.
“I can’t believe this place is ours,” you sighed dreamily.
“I know,” Ben smiled “No more commuting for an hour on the tube to your apartment.”
“No more skype calls when one of us are sick.”
“The place we’ll live when we get married.”
“The place we’ll bring our first baby.”
“First baby?” Ben raised his eyebrows “How many kids are you wanting?”
“I honestly don’t know,” you laughed “Knowing us we’ll be stupid and end up with 12.”
“and I’d love them all the same,” Ben smiled. “We’d probably have to move again though if we were to have 12 kids.”
“What would we call them?”
“we’d have to call one of boys Joe.” At that you burst out laughter, burying your face in his chest. “We’d have to, Joe would kill me,” Ben smiled, laughter edging his tone. You nodded. “If we have a son first, he’ll call him Joe.”
“Joe Hardy.”
Ben hadn’t even realised that his hand had moved to rest on your abdomen. He didn’t move it away. You smiled into his chest. “You sure you’d want to create a human sharing our DNA? That poor child.”
“It’s alright,” he clicked his tongue “only one of the parents have to be good looking to make sure the kids not ugly.”
You rubbed his chest “aw honey, don’t put yourself down like that. You’re not that ugly. I’M KIDDING,” you laughed at Ben’s gasp “I’m kidding.”
“I’m quite hurt by that,” Ben teased. He felt his heart soften like warm caramel when you grabbed his face, squishing his cheeks slightly “You know I think you’re stunning.”
“I must have something if you’ve stuck with me.”
“A massive bank account.”
“Ha ha,” Ben smiled, cuddling you in closer as a shroud of drowsiness suddenly engulfed him. He moved his head away, let out a big yawn, and then pulled the blanket up to your chin and his shoulder. He kissed your temple once more, whispering in your hair that he loved you. He didn’t know what you said next, he’d already fallen asleep, but it didn’t matter- it was your voice, and that was the last thing he always wanted to hear.
Side note:It should be illegal to look that good I’m SORRY
Overview: You go to A party at Freddie Mercury’s house with your boyfriend Roger, and things gets heated in more ways than one.
AN: Iya lovesss! I wanted to write an imagine based of this scene in BR as it was one of my favorites, although that might have been because Ben Hardy being protective is everything I needed in my life. I hope you guys enjoy!
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Word count;1400(ish)
It was a party like you’d never seen before. The house, normally so clean and empty except for Cats and Freddie’s piano, was now full of exotically dressed people that you’d never seen before. Women with sparkles adorned on their bare chests and heads, men wearing brightly colored top hats and Stage makeup, their eyes popping with excitement. The place was already a mess of streamers, empty glasses and spillages of colors that made you instinctively avoid them. As you walked in, a waiter offered you a drink. It tasted strong and expensive, but you downed it not wanting to seem rude. The sound was so dense against your ears you didn’t hear anyone talking to you until someone spoke low in your ear “fancy exploring?”
Roger Taylor’s White jacket and shoulder length blonde hair seemed to shine in the low lighting of the hundreds of fairy lights. His blue irises had darkened with attraction as he pulled you close. His cologne was intoxicating and gorgeous; it made you weak at the knees. You leaned into him, playing with his collar “and why would we do that?”
“So, we could finish what we started earlier,” His voice graveled slightly as he lent down and brushed his lips over the soft spot on your neck where the hickey he left earlier was covered by makeup. A chill of euphoria shot over your skin. He smiled knowingly. For a moment the pair of you forgot that you were stood in the lobby filled with hundreds of people, all of whom recognized the drummer. His finger pads stroked down your back as he wrapped his arms around your waist. You desperately wanted the pair of you to go into a dark corner so you could explore each other, and judging by Rogers heightened breathing he was thinking the same.
“Roger you’ve been here for five minutes, can you PLEASE refrain from ripping Y/N clothes off until we say Hi to Freddie?”
Brian, Deaky and their wives were all watching with varying expressions of embarrassment, humor and annoyance. You laughed; Roger uttered a whine of frustration.
“C’mon” you untangled yourself and held out your hand “let’s go find Freddie.”
“But- “
“We’ll finish this later.”
“You promise?” Roger smiled.
You winked “I promise.” Biting his lip Roger took your hand and followed you. Your group of six squeezed through the swelling crowd as you went from room to room. You were followed by yells of recognition, screams of excitement and calls of devotion to the band mates of Queen. A lot of girls particularly screamed for Roger. As always, he was polite and laughed off their drunken advances, but when he could he would smile at you reassuringly and never he never let go of your hand.
Eventually you reached what Freddie liked to call his “entertainment room” where beautifully stitched sofas and marble counter-topped coffee tables huddled around in a circle in the center of the room. These were covered with haphazard trays of finger foods and abandoned half drank glasses of champagne. The carelessness of wealth seemed odd in a room where so many times you’d spent time with your friends, playing cards and cuddling Freddie’s cats. It was alien, and totally unlike Freddie, and the look on Rogers face matched the same look of surprise.
Standing on the largest table In the center of the room was the host, Freddie Mercury. He was dressed, naturally, as a Queen. A bejeweled crown sat on his messy curls, his chest bare underneath the matching velvet jacket also adorned with jewels and Patches. When he saw you, his face broke into his iconic wide smile.
“Look who’s late now Darlings!” He jumped down and embraced his fellow band mates, kissing the wives on the cheek and then coming up to you last. “I can see that Mary helped you with your outfit choice,” he smiled at your off the shoulder red body con dress and black belt that synced your waist in “you look ravishing.”
“Thank you, Fred!” You smiled, kissing him on the cheek. He passed you another drink and offered you an open seat. You went to sit, but Roger gently pulled you onto his lap; shuffling his legs so you rested comfortably against his chest. Your temples gently knocked his shoulder as you cuddled into him.
“What’s with the party Fred?” Roger asked.
Freddie shrugged “I wanted to cause a mess, something as wild and eccentric as me.”
“Well you’ve achieved that,” Deaky said as he watched a man walking on his hands juggle empty champagne bottles with his feet to wild cheers from the audience.
“Fabulous isn’t it?”
“If you say so.” Brian laughed. Just then Paul appeared, smiling with his flashy grin. No one smiled back. You felt Rogers chest rise more as he bristled with annoyance. You rubbed the side of his leg trying to keep him calm, but to make sure he didn’t do anything stupid you didn’t get up to move to greet Paul like Freddie did.
“Everyone enjoying the party?” Paul’s Irish Lilt slurred slightly as he filled up Freddie’s glass. Roger offered his glass to be filled, but Paul didn’t fill it. Instead he moved so he was closer to Freddie, his eyes shining with glee.
“You’re starting to look like each other” Brian pointed to the matching mustaches.
“What’s wrong with that Brian?” Paul asked, but his gaze had hardened. Unperturbed, Brian’s tone had a slight bite
“You’re supposed to be in a rock band Freddie.”
Freddie ignored him. He was too busy listening to the music blasting from the other room.
“Come on! Let’s dance.”
“I don’t dance” Brian said. The conversation muddled in a chorus of story-telling of Brian’s dancing, but you noticed that Roger wasn’t speaking. You lent closer to him so your conversation couldn’t be over heard “you alright love?”
“He’s really pissing me off,” Roger scowled. You didn’t need to ask who he was.
“Take my drink,” you offered your glass “I’m not feeling it right now.”
“You okay?” Rogers eyes flashed with worry “we can leave if you want.”
You shook your head “I just don’t like being around Paul too much that’s all. You know I think he’s a creep.”
It was instinctive for Roger to tighten his hold on you, wanting you to feel safer.He played with the hem of your dress, “Want to go do that exploring instead?”
You giggled “is that all you’re thinking off?”
“It doesn’t help that you’re sat on me,” Roger winked “all I can think about is you.”
The conversation was starting to get louder, so now was the time to sneak away. Wriggling to stand you grabbed Rogers hand once more and pulled him up.
“We’re gonna go actually” Roger called as he went to drag you away, but Freddie blocked him.
“Roger don’t be dull-if you were anymore dull you’d be Deaky.”
“What you complaining at?” Roger frowned “You’ve got your little pet.” He shot a dark look at Paul, who’d slid over to listen in. There was something about him that caused you to grip onto Rogers hand harder, and this caused Roger to hate him even more.
There was a shift in Freddie’s jubilant facade. He now looked hurt, almost irritated. “I have, and he’s loyal. Loyalty is so important,” he turned to look at you “wouldn’t you say Y/N?”
“Careful Fred,” Roger Warned. His tone didn’t change, but his free hand had curled into a fist. He’d also pulled you in a bit closer, shielding you with his body from Paul, who wasn’t attempting to hide the joy in his face as he watched the two friends fight. You tugged Rogers hand and he pushed past Freddie, still keeping you close. You were able to thank Freddie for the party before they were lost in the crowd, and so you just concentrated on the mess of blonde hair that guided you up the stairs to the top floor landing. As you’d climbed up the stairs the groups of people had dwindled until it was just the occasional couple kissing on the stairs or someone snoring loudly in a drunken mess.
Roger pulled you so the two of you were in shadow, his eyes wide. “I’m sorry Fred said that” he said. “It’s the drugs. He doesn’t mean it.”
“I know,” you nodded. You both stood there, breathing in a second and allowing your ears to get used to lack of noise pressure.
“Your makeup’s smudged,” Roger smiled, gently swiping a thumb back over on the patch on your neck. The bruise blossomed on your skin. Once again Rogers eyes darkened. He leaned in and locked his lips with yours, and you let out a breath you didn’t even know you were holding. Roger hummed softly against your lips as he pressed every inch of his body against yours. You leaned Into him, your hair tangling with his as you two become more and more out of control. When he breaks the kiss Rogers hands were shaking with desire as he cupped your face. “I think there’s a room over there.”
You raised your eyebrows “aren’t you wanting to go home to do it?”
“I can’t wait that long,” he sighed, and he started to gently push until your back was to the door. You fiddled for the Door knob and cried with soft delight when it opened. Not even looking to see if it was empty. you pulled Roger into the darkness, enjoying the way his lips felt against your neck as you picked up where you left it off.
