Harry stared down at his paper. His song all screamed Louis.
“Same lips red, same eyes blue, same white shirt, couple more tattoos…”
He smiled fondly at the thought of Louis. His cerulean eyes and lips. God, he could get lost in those eyes.
“Tastes so sweet, looks so real, sounds like something that I used to feel..”
Like when he used to slam Louis up against the wall and they would fuck. Hearing Louis call his name over and over again…
The song wasn’t a happy song though. It reminisced all the bad and sad, dark parts of their relationship when they were so forced into the closet.
In fact, the line after it.
“But I can’t touch what I see…”
He could only watch Louis in public. Like there was a glass, a force field separating them.
“Tongue tied like we’ve never known, telling those stories we’ve already told, cause say what we really mean…”
Every single ‘some people genuinely believe me and Harry are in a relationship’ flew through his head. Every lie they told, every stunt they pulled.
And of course, he couldn’t leave out his favorite part of their relationship.
“The fridge light washes this too white, moon dances over your good side, this was all we used to need…”
He remembered all those nights they danced alone, the fridge light being the only thing keeping them company in the quiet kitchen, as thy found solace in each other’s arms.
And he lost that.
All of it.
All because of a stupid mistake he made.
He just hoped that Louis would realize how heartbroken and lost and miserable he was. That he had realized what he did wrong. That he was sorry. That Harry loved Louis.
Imagine where you’re a VS angel/singer that used to date Juice, and the club needs your help.
“Girls! Girls, on your places” They were all screaming and you were still trying to figure out how to work the angel wings VS wanted you to wear that night over your baby pink lace. Five years in the business and you still weren’t used to people taking extra care of your face and hair. “(Y/N), please stop eating. You’ll mess up the lingerie”
Being a Victoria Secret Angel was never on your plans. You were discovered the way everyone were, while you were fooling around on Instagram with some friends of College; a few tags, a few calls and two months later you had your first important photo shoot. Your hairdresser was, ironically, someone that almost had no hair on him, just a bushy pink mohawk, that took you far, far away when you saw him.
It took you back to Charming, while you were still as fresh as a daisy. It took you back to dating Juan Carlos Ortiz.
You were young and naive, a simple 17 year old with a crush on an older biker and an undying love for the leather and speed of the road. In that time, you gave everything to the Puerto rican kid; Juice was your first kiss, your first time, your first love; and like they say, first love dies hard. That’s why Juice killed it when he cheated on you with a dirty crow eater.
Thinking of it as a flash back, it still hurts a little. It actually hurted a lot, so much that you could still remember every single detail of that night. Jax trying to distract you from entering the room, the moans of the girl, the closed eyes-lip biting, sweaty face Juice had on, The sweet smell of her cheap perfume and the way you walked away, throwing him the promise ring he gave you, two months before going at the little tart.
There was something you couldn’t throw, though.
You reached down, under the soft lace of your baby pink boy short, carefully covered with MAC makeup; a small crow spreading it’s wings along with “JC” under it. You threw your head back and closed your eyes, reminding yourself that it was all in the past and that SAMCRO didn’t runned your life anymore.
“Okay, (Y/N)…” A member of the cast said. “You’re on. You’re looking beautiful”
You nodded and winked at him playfully, walking outside and into the runway. The flashes of the cameras didn’t waited at all, the shouting and the name calling too, the self consciousnesses of you wearing only cute lingerie, but your face stood smiling, having fun watching all your coworkers and friends walk past you. You reached the top of the runway, striking a playful pose, snapping some dorky thumbs up and walking away. The place roared with excitement and they too another 1000 pictures of you.
“Yeah!” You heard a familiar voice in the distance. “You go, girl” You frowned but couldn’t turn around, but once you were backstage, you saw Tig’s Tragger crazy hair and the other 3 men with SAMCRO kuttes.
“What the fuck?” you whispered to yourself as you spot Lenny, the big buff guard fighting with him and a very annoyed Rat-boy. Juice was looking around, as if he were looking for something. Or someone.
Rat-boy spotted you, peeking out of the window and pointed at you. Lenny shaking his head and walking towards you, the 4 men staying close behind him.
“Mrs. (Y/L/N).” Lenny said. “These man claim to know you.” Tig and Jax smiled up at you. You had a good relationship with SAMCRO, and truth to be told, you missed them. You nodded slightly. “They don’t passes and unfortunately, i can’t let them in.”
Juice was there too, but he couldn’t meet your gaze. You would be lying if you told that you didn’t felt butterflies in your stomach, the shaking knees and the sappy music in your head when you saw your first true love.
“I can’t believe it.” Tig mentioned, crossing his arms on top of his chest. “You look so different.”
“Thank you, Alex.” You blushed and crossed your arms, only making your chest pop up more. You cleared your throat and
“(Y/N), girl, we need you.” Jax started, moving around the let the crew move backstage. “SAMCRO needs you.” You felt your heart flutter. Biting your lip, you put on a pink robe. The show continued but your participation was over. You scrabbled down an address on a small napkin and handed it over to Jax.
“My studio address.” You said closing the front of your robe. “Come over tonight. You’ll find me there.”
“I’ll see you around, sweetheart. Thank you…” the blonde biker said, walking away as everyone waved goodbye. Juice looked at you and that’s when you took notice of his new long hair. You shook your head. He had been in jail.
“You’re looking good…” he muttered and started to walk away. You put a hand on your chin, and another one on top of your heart. Gulping, you waved goodbye at him too and went over to change into normal clothes.
Some cut out jeans, red converse sneakers and a “Free Sonny Barger” t-shirt later you were at your recording studio, messing around with Anita and the crew; the girl that helped you record your stuff. You were also best friends.
“Let me throw this away…” your said picking up the Subway napkins and trash, walking outside where everyone dumped the trash. The roar of half a dozen of motorbikes made you snap your head up, waving at Jax and the boys making sure they saw you. They parked on the back of your studio and hopped off, Juice being the last one.
Tig walked over to you, arms wide open and you jumped in for a hug; remembering that Tig was your SAMCRO best friend when you used to date Juice.
“Oh, baby.” He said, rubbing the small of your back. “It’s been ages.”
“A few years, yeah.” You smiled brightly at him and fixed your hair.
“You look gorgeous.” Jax said walking over to you and kissing your cheek once he hugged you. “Tara says Hi.” You nodded taking notice to call her later that night.
“What is it, boys? I can’t think of many things a model can do to help an MC” You said leaning on the wall, watching Juice smoke a cigarette on the low. Jax licked his lips and looked at Tig.
“Well…we kind of need 70 thousand…” You bit your lip and nodded. You had the money, and you were willing to helpu your friends. Juice was still staring at you, but you have decided to ignore him, for your own sake. “We’ll pay you back when the steam blows off, and the club will own you a favour.”
“Yeah…” Tig was quick to peek in. “We don’t care how much of your coworkers we have to fuck, we’re willing to do it.” He joked, making you roll your eyes. Jax looked at you, all the charm of a Teller man on his eyes. You rolled your eyes, playing a smirk on your lips and nodded. Everyone smiled.
“Get inside. You’ll find Anita. Tig, she’s married.” You warned the womanizer of the Sons of Anarchy. “Tell her to give you a check. I’ll change it tomorrow morning.” Jax bit his lips and clapped, excited that his plans were now making sense and adding up to the big plan. He grabbed your hands and kissed your cheek.
“One last night.” He whispered. “Give the kid a chance.” Both of you looked at Juice, talking absently to Rat-Boy. You glared at the Prince of Charming, but promised yourself look for some kind of closure. Rat-Boy and Tig went inside the studio, Jax following them, leaving both of you alone in a parking lot.
You fixed your hair and pinched your cheek, an habit you always had, walking over to the tattooed men, clearing your throat.
“Hey.” You called his attention. “Can i have one?” motioning to the light cigarette on his hand, he nodded, handing you a fresh one, both of you leaned on the wall.
“I thought you wanted to quit.”
“Yeah, well…” taking a drag, you smirked to yourself. “Job made me quit quitting.”
“A Victoria Secret Angel.” He trailed off, shaking his head, for he couldn’t believe it. You smiled, taking another drag.
“And a singer.” You corrected. “Aspiring singer.”
“Yeah, how’s that going?” He asked. You could see his eternal blush on his face and thought to yourself that if you could add a few pimples and less tattoos, you would be staring at the same Prospecting Juice.
“It’s going…” You both sighed. The tension in the air could have been cut with a knife. It seemed like both of you had the same idea: to come clean.
“Listen” both of you said. You both laughed as you hugged yourself and Juice scratched his scalp.
“I’m an idiot. And you knew that.” You listened to every word he said. “And…cheating on you- “ he cleared his throat, his own actions making him nauseous. “Was the worst decision ever. I wrecked the trust of an amazing girl back then, who turned into this beautiful…talented woman and…” he laughed a little. “and i’m still here, being an outlaw, same kid i was back there. Something changed, though.”
“Yeah…?” you barked, curious, blowing off the last drag and stepping on the cigarette. “What?”
“No one was there on my panic attacks at night.” You felt your stomach drop. “No one was there on my birthday and no one was there, letting me place my head on her lap, helping me fall asleep. I’m the same kid i was back then, needs and all. I guess…-” he looked around, confused and a bit flustered. “I guess i’m trying to say that i fucked up and that i miss you.”
“Look…” he took a step towards you. “I’m not asking you to forget all the shit i did. I’m asking you to forgive…” You bit your lip. “I’ll make you forget.”
“I’m not that different either…- you said, playing with the hem of your shirt.- Same dorky girl, Superhero lover. same Charming girl.” You both smiled at this. “Still in love with the same stupid mohawk kid.”
“Can we start again…?” He whispered as you nodded, wrapping your arms around his neck, getting closer and closer, his strong hands in the small of your back, making you stand on your tip toes as your lips crashed against each other, melting into a slow dance you’ve both waited for quite some time.
Could you write a quick doc mech drabble based on these new Abby pics. Cuz Abby looks so good this season.
“New shirt?” Marcus asked, walking past Abby on her way to the clinic.
Abby looked down at her shirt. It wasn’t new. But it wasn’t hers either. “Uh, no. Same shirt as always.”
He smiled, “Same oil stains?” He pointed to a small blotch of permanently soiled sleeve near her elbow.
Abby looked at the shirt and knew she’d been caught. She smiled slyly, “Well it’s not new.”
He shook his head at her as she started walking toward the clinic again. He looked back in the direction of Abby’s tent and saw the flop open. A half-awake mechanic stumbled out one boot in her hand. She looked exhausted, but a content smile was on her face. She pulled her boot on with one hand and started walking toward the machine shop, wearing a shirt that wasn’t new, but wasn’t hers.