#Brian looks so dopey here
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"It's not just their ghosts that are inside of those machines..."
"It's their bodies."
All 12 (child) victims of Peter Mitchell
#the mitchell chronicles#tmc au#fnaf au#my au#five nights at freddys#freddy fazbear#bonnie the bunny#chica the chicken#foxy the pirate fox#golden freddy#fredbear#the marionette#toy freddy#toy bonnie#toy chica#the mangle#balloon boy#jj#using their canon names because I'm lazy#digital art#digital artwork#mspaint#mspaint artwork#Brian looks so dopey here
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‘I just don’t get it.’ Steve says, slamming the apartment door, pouting.
He throws his keys down on the counter in a huff. Untucking his polo from his skin tight ‘date jeans’ and rubbing his fingers soothingly over the little indents they’re leaving on his belly.
Eddie and Robin are splayed out on the couch, air hazy with smoke and a half eaten pizza on the coffee table. ‘What babe?’ Robin asks, lifting her arms up and making grabby hands at Steve.
He slumps over and falls into her side, snuggling into her shoulder and taking a puff form the joint she holds to his lips. ‘I though coming out as bi would mean I’d go on nice dates, like I used to take girls on. But people would take me on them instead, guys or girls.’ He explains, taking another hit.
‘Ah. Brian wasn’t the one?’ Robin asks. Putting the joint back in her mouth and tucking Steve closer under her arm.
‘No.’ Steve pouts. ‘He was lame and he got all weird when I ordered pie. Which, like, we met at the bar, he knows what I look like, it’s not surprising that I ordered pie. Then he started yapping about his jogging routine.’ Steve rolls his eyes, undoing the fly of his jeans so he can kick them off and get comfy on the couch, like he always does, ‘date jeans’ are way too constricting for high pizza time. ‘Like one, bold of him to assume I don’t jog when I do, like, when I feel like it. And two, the pie was really good! I even offered him a bite and he didn’t even accept it! Rude!’
‘So rude.’ Robin pets at Steve’s head.
Eddie unsticks himself from the sofa to get another slice of pizza and pass one over to Steve in consolidation. Nodding along to what Steve is saying as it passes through the soup of his brain.
‘Like I know people like to sleep around and that’s fun and all but why are they so bad at dating?’ He pulls another deep drag of the joint Robin holds for him, chewing a bite of pizza as smoke billows out between his lips. ‘Why does no one want a cute fat boyfriend with great hair? Why do they just see me as a piece of ass?’ He whines, the weed hitting him now.
‘Because your ass is great babe.’ Robin says, stealing a chunk of his crust. ‘Top tier ass.’
He looks up at her with big eyes ‘Yeah?’
‘Yeah.’ She smiles at him, pinching his cheek
‘I want a cute fat boyfriend.’ Eddie sighs, from the other end of the couch. eyes glazed over staring at the muted tv screen, his slice of pizza held untouched in his hand. ‘I’d take him out on nice dates, brush his hair and help him try on pretty clothes. I could kiss his chubby cheeks and cuddle him and call him sweet names..’ He sighs again, finally taking a bite.
‘You know Eddie, Stevie here on the couch is single.’ Robin says, getting up to go to the kitchen. Leaving the joint in Steve’s mouth.
Eddie looks at her go. Blinks hard a couple times and looks at Steve. Sprawled out on the couch cushions, belly peaking out of his shirt. His lovely roommate Steve. Cute and fat and silly hot. ‘Maybe I even want to hold his hand as we take a little walk. Maybe I want to take care of him and spoil him and make him feel like the world spins around him. He could get fatter, if he wanted, because i lo-like him so much.' Eddie continues. Confesses. Eyes wide and heart racing.
Steve’s cheeks are pink, eyes glassy and pretty. ‘Me?’ Steve points at himself, joint between his long fingers, looking at Eddie, looking all over his face.
‘Yeah.’ he breaths. Matching the dopey smile that spreads over Steve’s face, besotted and beaming.
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me and @scoops-aboy86 were talking about this post. so now you all have to read the silliness too xoxo
Tag list (open): @pearynice @xxfiction-is-my-realityxx @chickensinrainboots @cheesedoctor
#hotlunch#drabble#chubby steve harrington#idiot4idiot#my new fave#steddie#hope ur day brightens partner *tips cowboy hat*#steddie wg#stobin soulmates
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Today’s compilation:
Grammy Nominees 2000 2000 Pop / Latin Pop / Teen Pop / R&B
I think it's genuinely funny to look back on albums like these and to see some of the songs and names that the Recording Academy deemed worthy of nominating for some of the Grammys' most coveted categories: "Livin' la vida loca" for Record of the Year? Kid Rock for Best New Artist, even though he'd already put out three albums prior (and is also really bad)? Lou Bega for Best Male Pop Vocal Performance, and in the same category as Andrea Bocelli? 😂 What are we even doing here, folks? What's next, a Marvel movie getting nominated for Best Picture? 😳
Anyway, regardless of some of these choices, it's always fun to take a trip down memory lane, get a bit of that nostalgia rush, and re-evaluate some of these hits that were completely inescapable two-plus decades ago.
And I think my biggest takeaway here is that, even though I still can’t help but love most of its dopey songs, the US' Latin pop boom at the turn of the millennium was, for the most part, pretty objectively terrible. "Livin' la vida loca" is pure maximalist cringe, with its "skin's the color mocha" lyric possibly being the worst line ever written in the history of pop music. And its absurd James Bond guitar motif will also never not be funny to me. Amazing to remember that people unironically enjoyed this song at one point. Like, imagine going to a normal bar at peak hours on a Saturday night in 1999 and this song comes on, and people start going nuts for it? What a time to be alive.
And same goes for "Mambo No. 5," another incredible Latin pop inanity that also happened to mesh well with that whole swing revival thing that bands like the Brian Setzer Orchestra and the Cherry Poppin' Daddies (that fucking name, man) were somehow getting away with at the same exact time. God, what musical horrors this time period wrought. And Lou Bega's not even Latin, either, by the way. He's a German native who's of Sicilian and Ugandan descent. And still, he made one of the biggest Latin pop hits of all time. Go figure.
And then there's Santana's "Smooth," which isn't actually an *awful* song on its own—at least not to nearly the same extent as those other two—but it's managed to reach such an extreme level of saturation over the years that I think it's now achieved a meme status that's akin to "All Star." I mean, that opening bar hits and you just chuckle at the utter absurdity of this song's existence at this point, right? But I actually learned a couple interesting facts about it today. One is that the guy who produced Matchbox Twenty's debut album also produced this song, and the other is that, originally, it was given to Rob Thomas in its preliminary stages, so he could work on it and then someone else could end up singing the final product, but Santana just decided that Thomas should provide the lead vocals anyway. And Thomas actually had someone like George Michael in mind instead, so try to imagine what that would've sounded like 😯.
But I swear to you all that I'm not actually an insufferably stuffy despiser of all 90s pop; I love some of the music on here. "...Baby One More Time" and that whole Swedish-produced teen pop craze has really grown on me over the years. Producer Max Martin was a total pop production genius back then and that Britney Spears debut single was one of his finest works. It has such an excellently lush final push and the song itself legitimately changed the pop music landscape forever. But I also can't help but notice some of the similarities between it and another less remembered co-production of Martin's that he did in '97 for Robyn called "Show Me Love" (not to be confused with the all-time diva house hit, "Show Me Love" by Robin S.) .
By the way, wanna see quite possibly the wrongest anyone's ever been about anything, ever? Read the following sentence from the Wikipedia article for "...Baby One More Time." The level of lack of foresight is off the fucking charts!
Given what we know now, it's crazy to think how multiple people at the top of the industry could've missed this mark by so goddamn much, but they did. And maybe, had "...Baby One More Time" never been made, they might've actually been right. But as it turns out, they were the complete opposite of that.
Overall, this is a fun album for channeling more innocent times and enjoying some of the pure pop goofiness of 1999, but the idea that some of these songs ever got nominated for anything other than the musical equivalent of a Razzie by an “authoritative” institution is pretty funny in and of itself and it also reveals what an unserious organization the Recording Academy really became at some point. Like, I can't imagine, at any time, thinking that a song like "Livin' la vida loca" ever exuded any kind of level of excellence, but I'd also very much like to meet the people who did!
Highlights:
Backstreet Boys - "I Want It That Way" Ricky Martin - "Livn' la vida loca" Santana - "Smooth" TLC - "No Scrubs" Christina Aguilera - "Genie in a Bottle" Macy Gray - "Do Something" Kid Rock - "Bawitdaba" Britney Spears - "...Baby One More Time" Marc Anthony - "I Need to Know" Lou Bega - "Mambo No. 5 (A Little Bit Of...)" Sting - "Brand New Day"
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spoiled dog. | Masky
Fandom: Creepypasta / Marble Hornets Word Count: 3.8k Warnings: PET PLAY, puppyspace!reader x owner!Tim, transmale!reader (fem body/masc names), cockwarming (in mouth), degradation and praise kink, face slapping, spanking, collar and ears, heavily submissive reader. A/N: Still in the poly!proxies universe. They will never be seperate. Extra:
The space under Tim and Brian’s desk was more comfortable than it should be. This was not fair. Of course, you were going to be here at any given opportunity. After all, they had made the space so nice for you – even if you had torn it apart and put it back together the right way when given the chance. The pillows and blankets that lined the roomy bottom of the desk made it to where you didn’t ache as you laid at their feet, listening to them tap away at the computer for hours at a time while you lounged, waiting for their attention to come again.
Why did they have to have so much paperwork? It just wasn’t fair. That’s what you were thinking as you curled under the desk again, head tucked close to Masky’s foot. The man had been fronting for the past two days in a surprising but happily accepted turn of events. Tim had just been tired, too tired to not accept the offer to sit in the back of the headspace for a while and rest instead of reining control. Masky had been tapping away at the keyboard for at least seven thousand hours now, it felt like. Truly, it had been maybe three, but you were needy, and he had only given like three head pats.
You itched at the ears placed neatly on your head - like you could really feel them - before you shuffled around. Masky’s typing didn’t stop as you rearranged yourself, circling around a few times the best you could before plopping back down with a huff, turning to stare up at his legs. They were parted just slightly, you could just-
You lifted yourself up, folding your legs underneath you before you just plopped your face down at his knees, the space just big enough that he was cradling your face with his thighs unintentionally. You let out a low sigh of content at the feeling only to be interrupted as you realized he had done it – he had stopped typing.
You glanced up, no doubt looking pathetic as you made eye contact. Masky gave a neutral look, eyes narrowing just slightly before his hand dropped down from the desk and to your head. You closed your eyes again, leaning into him as he ran his hand through your hair carefully, nails scratching deliciously against your skin. This was nice.
His hand dropped slowly, moving to the back of your neck, fingering at the leather of your collar. “You’re a good, little puppy aren’t you,” he finally spoke. Your eyes flew open, looking up at him with a dopey smile. Of course, you were good. You were always good for them. “They’ve got you trained so well,” he drawled out. You shuffled, rocking from side to side just slightly, excitement flooding your body. “Good dog.”
You let out a little whine at that, pushing into him more forcefully, staring up at him with doe eyes, wanting more and more attention. He chuckled lowly, tugging at the collar a few times teasingly. “Wanna play, puppy? You’re looking awfully needy down there.”
You nodded excitedly, the words already going straight to your cunt, face flushed at the thought of what he would do. Masky wasn’t known for being soft, after all.
He seemed to think for a moment, giving you a few more pets before he paused, another laugh passing his lips. “How about this,” he spoke, palming at the growing bulge in his sweatpants, your gaze locked on his movements. “How about you use your little mouth to keep my cock warm and ready for you while I finish these documents, and if you can hold out for that long, I’ll think about fucking your slutty pussy.”
Oh, what a dream he could be. You nodded, eyes still locked on his lap, ready for him to tug down the tops of his pants, ready to have something. His movements weren’t rushed in the slightest, each tug of his pants emphasized with the languid pace. You were practically drooling with excitement when his cock finally sprung free, hard and thick and beautiful at the moment. He pumped his cock with one hand, teasingly showing off what was so close yet so far. You whined lowly, bouncing in place slightly, anticipation climbing higher and higher.
Your patience was paid off for in the end as Tim gripped your chin with his other hand. “Open,” he mused, thumb pressing against the plump of your bottom lip. Your lips parted so easily, eagerness showing in abundance with every move you made. He made a pleased noise, fisting his cock once more before he tapped it against your tongue a few times.
You made a noise of impatience, trying to follow him with your mouth, but he was having fun. He finally - finally - laid himself on your tongue. His hand fisted the back of your hair firm enough to hold you in place but not hurt. He sighed lowly as he pulled you forward, letting him fill your mouth until you couldn’t fit anymore before stopping. You shuddered harshly, you could feel him pulsing in your mouth, and you could also feel how wet your underwear was getting at the action.
You let out a low sigh as the two of you settled down. You were doing good, so, so good for him, you knew you were. He made the prettiest sighs as he typed into a few more documents. After you heard him click out of a tab, he rewarded you with a shallow thrust of his hips, sure to make you whine every time. There was so much spit pooling, though. You must have looked absolutely depraved, face stuffed with cock, drool slipping past your lips and gathering down his thighs, hips grinding into the air, no friction found but desperately wanted.
You waited, and you waited so patiently, your breathing picking up even restricted as it was. You shuffled in place a few times, but you kept him seated perfectly inside your mouth, your tongue instinctively pressing against the small ridges of his cock, against the vein that ran along the underside, laving at the slit. This was heaven.
It felt like an eternity before he was done, waiting endlessly, patiently, and then –
Click.
A shallow thrust into your mouth, a soft groan falling from his lips, and then a hand in your hair again, softly pulling you away. You couldn’t help the cry that escaped you at the movement, leaning forward as he pulled away and out. His hand pressed against your forehead, stopping you from moving any farther as you tried to crawl forward. You huffed, letting him tilt your head back so you were looking at him.
“You were such a good boy, sitting so pretty for me,” he cooed, moving to caress your cheek instead. You sighed heavily, leaning into his touch, his warmth. He was oh-so warm. “You really gonna fuck it up by getting greedy now? They have you so, so spoiled don’t they, puppy?”
You whined lowly again, dropping your head as you shuffled in place. You were good, you swore, you just wanted to please him, but… You whined again, sad.
“Oh, baby.” He tutted softly, reprimanding. “You’re not in trouble.” You perked up at that, glancing up at him through your eyelashes. “Dirty little whores like you can’t it? Can you, puppy? So cock-drunk and desperate already. I bet if I got you out of those panties, you’d be dripping all over the floor, wouldn’t you? Such a messy little boy.”
The sounds you let out were downright pornographic, head filling with only thoughts of him. You moved around until your foot was below your ass, trying to angle your body in a way where you could get some sort of friction without using your hands, but it was in vain. Nothing was helping, and you were sure that even if you did manage to catch it right, it wouldn’t be enough. You needed him more desperately than ever.
“Pathetic,” he drawled out. “Such a whiny bitch. You think your foot is enough to get yourself off? Think you can satisfy yourself like that?”
You shook your head, crying out a loud ‘no’ as you did so.
Before you could even register it, Tim had smacked you across the face. It wasn’t hard, definitely not as harsh as he had done before, but it still shocked you enough into stilling, a defeated look crossing your face. You were a bad dog.
“Last I checked,” Masky spoke, moving to gently rub the cheek he had just hit. “Dogs don’t speak. Do they?”
You shook your head again, closing your mouth to prove a point.
“Good boy.” As a reward, he pet your head a moment longer before pulling away. This time, you sat still, ready, hands in front of you on the ground, steadying your dizziness. “Now, come on, you still deserve your reward.” He took a few steps back and paused once he realized I hadn’t moved. “Do you not?”
You moved. Slowly, one knee and one hand at a time. Crawling always felt so humiliating, no matter how much you did it, but the fire inside you was not diminishing anytime soon, so you would crawl and beg if needed if it meant that you would finally be satisfied.
Masky sat at the edge of the bed before he began to shed clothes, t-shirt and sweats tossed to the floor without a care. Then, he settled down, legs spread, hands pressed to the bed behind him, head tilted just enough as he watched you make your way towards him. Once you finally reached him, you took your spot between his legs, kneeling.
You wouldn’t even lie, your gaze was fully trained on his cock, mouth watering again at the thought of finishing him off, the thought of cum filling your mouth, the neediest whines he made as he came. For as much as he made fun of your noises, he had the filthiest sounds mixed with his words.
Masky whistled, long and attention-grabbing, a chuckle passing his lips after. “Want a taste? You weren’t satisfied with having my cock in your mouth for almost an hour?” He tutted softly. “Greedy little whore.”
You looked up at him, wide eyes barely blinking. What did he want you to do? What did he need you to do? Just one command, and you would do anything for him. It took everything in you to stay still, especially as he caressed your face, hand slipping down to pull at the ring on your collar.
“Undress.”
The word was stated so forcefully that you didn’t think twice before your hands were at the hem of your shirt, and you were pulling it off, throwing it somewhere to mix with his clothes. Your underwear was a harder feat, getting it down your legs and off without standing was a talent you had slowly picked up, and soon, they were gone, too, and you were back to waiting. Always waiting.
Masky took his cock in hand, a smug smirk on his face as you put all of your focus into watching him, your eyes following the movement of his hand as he jerked off in front of you, teasing you with what you wanted so desperately. You whimpered, pawing at the ground, leaning forward.
“Want a taste that bad?”
You nodded frantically, scooting forward enough to be in reach of it.
“Open up. Show me that you want it.”
You complied, tongue lolling out as you opened wide, practically shaking from excitement. He patted his thigh, a signal to go ahead, and you took no breaks, diving forward and taking as much of him as you could in one go. He moaned, the sound deep and rumbling in his chest as he tried to muffle it. You moaned around him in response, internally grinning as his mouth dropped open, releasing the sounds he tried to keep in. He let out a heavy sigh before pulling at your hair again. You let him control your movements, forcing your head up and down, your hands moving to grip his thighs, nails digging into the flesh.
You were pulled off of him much too soon for your liking, the hand in your hair suddenly yanking back and pulling you off. You panted loudly, trying to catch your breath, confusion clouding your mind. He must have been able to read your face, the disappointment evident, because he smoothed over the spot in your hair he had yanked.
“You’re not in trouble, puppy. You’re doing so good. I just want to cum inside that slutty pussy instead of your throat. If you kept going,” he trailed off, scratching the base of your skull.
You leaned into his touch, sighing blissfully before you recognized what he had said. If you kept going.
You leapt forward again, wrapping your mouth around him before he could catch on. Masky made a noise of surprise followed by a groan and then, he was yanking you back again, watching as you almost toppled over. You re-steadied yourself, making noises to try and communicate without speaking. What happened?
Masky reached forward, grabbing you by the waist, and throwing you onto the bed behind him. You landed on your stomach, head reeling as it tried to catch up with his movements, but then, his hands were on your hips, and you were positioned until your face was pressed into the pillows while your ass was high in the hair. A sharp smack was landed on your ass followed by another on the other cheek.
“Greedy, filthy fucking slut,” Masky grumbled. “It’s never enough for you, is it? Always wanting more. Is that what you want? More.” You whined pathetically, wiggling your hips in hopes that it would entice him to finally give you what you want. “I was right about one thing, though. You’re absolutely dripping.”
To prove his point, he pressed forward, and you cried out as you felt his tongue press to the inside of your thigh and lick all the way up to your cunt, dipping into your entrance teasingly before pulling away. You wanted to cry. You were shaking so bad, so pent-up and needy, and he was still playing with you.
Masky let out a small ‘fuck’ and then, you felt him press back in, cool air fanning over your most sensitive parts as he moaned and sighed as you felt his tongue against your clit, and you were in heaven. You had no idea how the man knew how to use his mouth so well, but you found yourself fisting the sheets and biting down on a pillow in an attempt to quiet yourself, each flick of his tongue sending heat traveling through your body to the tips of your fingertips. You were burning, practically on fire.
One of your hands clenched around the sheet a few times before you let go and smacked the sheets a few times instead, head thrown to the side so you could breathe properly. “Cum. Please, may I cum, sir?”
Masky pulled away to talk only for you to wail as he replaced himself with two fingers plunging deep inside of you. You shuddered, a few tears falling as you clenched around him, trying to wait for permission, trying to be a good boy. “Well, you have been so patient.” He paused, shuffling for a moment behind you until you could feel his breath fanning over you again as his fingers kept a relentless place. “Cum for me, puppy.” Then his lips were wrapped around your clit, and the tips of his fingers hit that special spot so well, and you were crying out as you came, back arching uncomfortably, and body shaking in pleasure. Oh, this was worth it, but then, his movements didn’t stop.
His tongue slowed to languidly massage your clit, digits practically locked on your g-spot with every plunge they took, and they didn’t stop. Even as you made a noise of discomfort. Even as you tried to pull your hips away. Even as the tears picked up again as the pain took on a form of pleasure all over again. Even as you came another time and the cycle repeated. He had his hand on his cock, working himself slowly, keeping himself at bay as he practically destroyed you. The only noises he made to acknowledge you and what you were doing were the soft moans and groans he breathed into your skin.
He finally pulled away after the fourth orgasm, after you were a shaking and sobbing mess, slumped into the bedsheets and barely able to keep yourself up. If it wasn’t for Masky’s hand wrapped around your thigh possessively, you wouldn’t be lifted at all. He took his time after you came, like he was cleaning the mess he made, slow, long licks to your overstimulated body that made you jump and whimper every time.
“What, pretty boy,” Masky breathed out as he leaned over you. You could feel his cock press against your ass, and even in the mess of a state you were, you managed to roll your hips against him, sighing at the thought of him finally inside of you. “Are you not as spoiled as I thought? You look pretty spent already, puppy. Do those boys not know how to use their mouths like I do?” Then, his mouth was pressed gently against your neck, and he angled his hips and guided himself with his hand until you felt the head of cock press against your entrance.
He stilled and pressed his free hand to the small of your back before dragging it down and smacking it hard enough to have you jolt. “Such a good dog,” he praised, and then, his hips snapped against yours, and you were wailing all over again. He didn’t give you time to settle or get used to the stretch, but with the amount you had already cum, you were slick, your body betraying you and letting him slide right in.
“Ple-ee-ease,” you sobbed out, throwing an arm back to press against his chest.
His reaction was almost instant, everything too much, too fast for you to process at the moment. One moment you were face down in the mattress, and the next, he had wrapped your arm behind you back and stuffed his fingers in your mouth with the free hand, three digits pressed to the top of your tongue to hold it down. “Don’t make me regret my compliment, puppy,” Masky huffed, thrusts not slowing in the slightest, each rock sending pleasure through your body. “Good dogs don’t talk, they bark.” He let go of your arm, reached around, and you let out a garbled noise as he managed to find your clit, immediately gripping his forearm tight enough to leave marks. “So bark.”
He took his hand, damp with your spit, out from your mouth and smacked your thigh before grabbing at the collar’s ring. When you didn’t make the noise he wanted, he was quick to pull harshly on your collar, sucking the breath from your system for a moment.
“Be a good dog and obey.”
And you did. You barked like the dog he wanted, and you barked as he changed his pace until it was practically merciless, and then you were practically howling as you came for the fifth time, panting heavily crying again, and it was pure bliss. Even as your eyes rolled back, and you felt your front hit the bed as Masky let go of you. He was quick to follow, letting out a delicious moan followed by a few panting breaths. You could barely register it, eyes closed and body slumped, sparks and heat coursing through you in strong waves that made you feel disoriented.
Still, you found yourself crying out for a final time as he pulled out. You couldn’t even find it in yourself to make a noise as he lazily circled your clit, using his other hand to push the cum that tried falling out back in. He let out a content sigh before pressing a kiss to your probably bruised ass.
You only managed to make yourself move when you felt him fully move away from you, suddenly cold and needy. You blearily opened your eyes, pushing yourself up on weak arms to try and follow him. He was quick to press a hand to your back, pushing you back down softly. “I’ll be back, baby. I’m gonna grab some stuff to take care of you. I’ll be just a minute.” He pulled one of the softer blankets over your shoulder and pressed a kiss to your temple as you settled back down. “Be a good dog and wait here for me, okay?” He left at that, picking up a pair of sweats and closing the door behind him.
You waited with bated breath, curled up underneath the blanket, tired eyes trained on the door, waiting all over again for him to come back. A few times, your eyelids tried to betray you and force you to finally rest, but you were a good boy, and you would wait.
When he finally came back in, clutching a few things to his bare chest, you were barely awake, but you were quick to try and get up again. Masky huffed out a laugh as he set everything on the bedside table. He climbed up and sat next to you, folding his legs under him to keep room.
“Come on, puppy,” he cooed, “let’s get you on your stomach.”
You sighed but followed his movements as needed, rewarded with a few embarrassingly nice pets on the stomach, the calloused hands nice against smooth-ish skin. He helped you lean up to drink some water before tending to the mess of your face and thighs. “Such a good boy,” he praised as he cleaned. “Always so good for me – needy and spoiled, but so, so good.”
Your stomach filled with warmth at the words, your body practically melting into the bed. The feeling was only amplified as he began to massage lotion into your skin on the areas he had bruised, his fingers delicately soothing cream into the chafed part of your neck under your collar and the bruising on your ass. He was always so much harsher than either he or you remembered. He noticed you dozing off after a few moments as he kneaded the fat of your thighs affectionately. “Oh, tired puppy.” Your eyes fluttered at his voice, but he tutted softly, running his knuckles across your cheek. “Get some rest, puppy. I’ll be here.” He moved to get back to his desk, but you were the fast one this time, throwing your arm forward with the last of his strength to grab his. You let out a long, drawn-out whine.
He replied with a quiet, huffing laugh. “Alright, I can probably spare a few minutes,” he spoke as he climbed back in, and you were passed out before you could even wrap around him properly.
“Good dog,” Masky whispered, pressing one more kiss to your forehead before settling down, too.
#tim wright x reader#tim wright#masky x reader#masky#proxies x reader#proxies#proxy#creepypasta x reader#creepypasta smut#marble hornets smut#tim wright smut#masky smut
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They were all at the end of their tethers, especially Brian. The dopey look on Roger's face, the waxing lyrical of Emily, the way his head turned everytime someone went by... especially if they went by and they had red hair.
"Rog," Freddie said, "It's just the WRVS lady with the tea, calm down will you?"
"It could have been Emily." Roger replied mullishly.
Brian felt his nostrils flare as he breathed in. "You don't even know Emily."
"But I burn inside to know her!" Roger exploded, standing up. "My heart thrums at her name. The world is perfect for having Emily in it, at last. It's fate, it's true love-"
"It's a bloody spell you've had put on you, you idiot! Sit down, will you? You don't even like read heads!" Brian snaps, and feels instant regret at the way Roger looks at him, sitting down slowly, clearly hurt by his words. "I'm sorry, I-"
"Roger Taylor?"
Their heads all snap up over in the direction of the nurse calling Roger's name.
"Here!" Freddie says, and then pulls Roger up. "I'll go with him, Brian. You stay here and wait for John."
Chastened, Brian nods and watches as Roger and Freddie go with the nurse.
-
"That was bloody wierd!" is the very first thing Roger says to Brian and John when he comes back out of the treatment room, looking a bit dishevelled and quite tired.
"Are you all... fixed, now?" Brian asks uneasily.
"Oh yes!" Freddie says, just trailing behind him. "They made absolutely sure of it. He had to drink a foul smelling concoction and then stand there in his skivvies as they did a removal spell on him. No trace of any magic spells left in his blood. Certainly no traces of Emily."
"I don't even know her!" Roger cried.
"That's what I said!" Brian cried back.
"Er, fellas?" John said, "Maybe we should continue this chat somewhere else? Maybe in the car? The receptionists are starting to glare."
-
"It feels like it was all a dream." Roger said, between slurps of tea. "I can remember bits of it but it doesn't make sense now. I remember feeling very happy one minute, then very sad, and there was a face in my mind and even though there was a voice in the back of my mind telling me it was all wrong, I wanted to see that face." He paused thoughtfully, "Emily's I assume. We'll have to ban her from gigs."
"And the market." John said.
"Hmm..."
"I called Miami, and Harris," John said, looking between Roger, Freddie and Brian, "I told them to keep an eye out for any redheads at any gigs or interviews, and to get me or Freddie so we can see if it's her or not."
"Good idea." Brian said, not bothered he wasn't one of the ones to go to. He didn't really see her, or at least not her face. Just that she'd gone up to Roger and a second later he had reeled back. And he'd gone over before she could get Roger to go off with her.
"You were right about one thing, though." Roger said, looking at Brian.
"Was I? When?"
It was so out of character for Brian to question himself being right, that John and Freddie couldn't help but give him a double take for it.
"It's been a very confusing morning!" Brian said, in his defence.
"When you said I don't even like redheads." Roger said.
Brian's mouth fell open. "I thought you couldn't remember anything!"
"I said I could remember bits of it. That's one bit I remember."
"I'm really sorry," Brian said, quite apologetically, "I was very worried and stressed when I shouted at you. It was like looking after a very demanding puppy with no self awareness and I just reached a limit."
Freddie snorted in to his tea.
"Thanks." Roger said, flatly. "I've been described worse, I suppose."
"You've been described better, too." John added, unhelpfully.
"But you were right." Roger repeated. "I don't normally go for redheads."
Brian nodded, not sure as to what to say to that.
"I've been going for brunettes, lately."
John spat his tea out back into his cup.
Brian looked over at John, worried, and then looked back at Roger, confused.
"Curly haired brunettes."
Brian was glad he didn't have a mouth of tea because he might have spat it out back into his cup, too. He risked a glance at Freddie, who seemed to be hiding his face in his bone china tea cup, or at least hiding his laughter, and not doing a very good job of it.
"Not Freddie, you berk!" Roger said, and gently shoved his shoulder. You!"
"Me?"
"Christ you're impossible."
"It's been a very confusing morning!" Brian repeated, "I'm going to need a few minutes to process."
"Well don't take too long, yeah? I'd like to go on a date with you by the time we're fifty."
It was Brian's turn to smile dopily now. "You want to go on a date with me?"
"By the time we're fifty, yes." Roger replied dryly.
"That would be lovely." Brian said, unable to contain the bubble of happiness wanting to burst out.
"Maybe we should take Brian to the hospital this time. He's got the same look on his face Roger had four hours ago." John stage whispered to Freddie.
"Oh don't pretend you're not a romantic." Freddie said. "Besides, I've been waiting four years for this moment."
"Maybe you should send Emily a thank you card then." Roger suggested.
"Don't you dare!" Brian said, "She'll probably return it to sender with a curse put on it."
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I don’t know why but I was thinking of what kind of romantic stereotypes the amomk! boys would fit into based on how you’ve written them so far (and the hints you’ve given us) although I could be totally wrong (this is just me running away with my imagination haha 😅)
But I thought that maybe Tae would the best friends/idiots to lovers trope; Joon would the college au/first love/exes to lovers trope (which you’ve kind of already confirmed) and Seokjin would be the Pride & Prejudice kind of enemies to lovers trope (not exactly Darcy but the kind where two people have completely different approaches to life but are attracted to each other anyway; plus Seokjin can provide 👀)
Also! If the boys had to liken themselves to a trope, what would they pick? 🤔
- 🌸
Oooooh!!! 🌸 Cherry Blossom Anon! Your beautiful brain! You evoked Taehyung with his sweet, dopey grin when he's lovesick! Namjoon with his pining! Jin with that tension! Absolutely core to their characterizations! But as far as the hints, I wonder if you---
Hanging out in the backyard and eating snacks.
Taehyung: Excuse me. What are "tropes"?
Namjoon: Ahhh, yes! Tropes are common literary devices, consistent character structures, or typical story frameworks that have certain expected standards that readers can use as a shorthand to---
Taehyung: To spare myself from one of your boring lectures, I looked up examples, and I'm obviously Sex Magic. (grins) You can fuck your way out of anything.
Jin: (beaming, fond) God, I'm so proud of you.
Namjoon: (looking at Taehyung's phone) Hmm. Well, if you’re asking us to choose from these kinds of tropes, and in an attempt not to be reductive to the human experience, I guess I’d say... Professor AU?
Taehyung: (rolling his eyes) Clearly.
Jin: I don’t think that that trope is exactly what you think it is.
Namjoon: I’m literally a teacher.
Taehyung: (scrunching his nose) Again, clearly.
Jin: I think you’re just (holds up his hands, stretches his fingers out dramatically, like fireworks) *ANGST*. And maybe something that’s missing from that suggestion is Unrequited Love Lasts Forever. Because as we all know---
Namjoon: Don’t.
Jin: Fine. But only because we listened to so much Brian McKnight on the way over here. I don’t want your heart to bleed all over Eomma and Appa’s patio furniture. They took forever deciding on which set to get.
Namjoon: (folding his arms) Always judging. Always sharing your opinion. What about you?
Jin: I don’t have one. (smiles) I’m undefinable.
Taehyung: Short name, big ego.
Jin: (grins) Exactly!
Taehyung: No, I mean--- (shows phone screen) Short Name, Big Ego.
Jin: What---
Namjoon: (takes phone) How is this so accurate?
Jin: (also scanning phone) Well... Am I at least Big Ego, Hidden Depths?
Taehyung: Who knows?
Namjoon: (chuckling) I know one we all are. Confirmed Bachelors.
Taehyung: Ayyyyeee!
Jin: (raising beer bottle) Hear-fuckin’-hear!
Mrs. Kim: (having heard the tail end as she opened the sliding door to call them) Don’t toast that!! And stop eating! Dinner is ready!
#asks#your asks#a map of mrs. kims#amomk#anon#🌸 cherry blossom anon#hiiiiiiii!!!!#bts drabbles#bts fanfiction#THESE GOOBERS
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The Final Attempt | 2
College and Hockey Shawn Au
Summary: It’s the championship game for the hockey team and you’re going to support the team just as you did for the opening game, except this time, you’re repping a certain curly hair boy that you met at the library. (This is the part 2 to The Final Attempt which I will link right here)
Author’s Note: This was highly requested and while I didn’t have a part 2 in mind I’m kinda proud of how this came out so I hope you like it! This is the longest fic I have ever written with a little over 4.3k words and I worked really hard on it to make a good story arc for you guys! As always please tell me what you think!
The championship game. If you had thought that the opening game was a big event, the championship game had blown all expectations out of your mind. You weren’t one for big crowds, but here you sat amongst the hundreds of people, Shawn’s large practice jersey adorning your body with the word MENDES written in bold letters along your back. “I love it,” you recalled him telling you the first time you had put it on for a game, “Lets everyone know you’re mine.” It seemed like just yesterday you were sitting nervously at the opening game, watching the boy that had won your heart with something as simple as cups of tea and messages written in sharpie. Fast forward to this afternoon when you had kissed your boyfriend good luck before he went to practice and were now watching him skate across the ice at a rapid pace. There was only 5 minutes left in the game with the score tied up, and everyone in the stadium could feel the nail-biting tension in the air. The puck was now in Shawn’s possession as he skated across the ice towards the goal, determination set in his eyes.
“Come on, Shawn,” you whispered to yourself, watching his every move with bated breath. 4 minutes 31 seconds...30 seconds....29 seconds...CRASH. A loud gasp escaped your lips and you stood in your seat, watching as his body got checked viciously into the boards with a loud bang. Shawn slumped down onto the ice, unable to get up while his opponent stole the puck and began to skate towards the goal. “No, no, no,” you prayed, hands covering your mouth, “You’re ok, baby, get up, you’ve gotta get up.” You saw him shake his head carefully, worried that he had a concussion from the amount of impact his head took, before looking up at the timer on the wall. 2 minutes 54 seconds. His head pounded, eyes wanting so bad to just close and rest for a few seconds, but he saw the clock, knowing that this was his last chance to make his team and school proud. He looked into the crowd, eyes landing on the one person he could always trust. Your eyes connected and as he saw the look of pure concern on your face, he knew that he had to use every last bit of strength inside of him to make you proud because at the end of the day, you were the only person that truly mattered to him. The cheers of the crowd were deafening as Shawn regained his ground, skating towards one of his teammates that had managed to to steal back the puck. Passing him the puck, his team flocked him on both sides, protecting him from defenders while he approached the goalie, the clock only seconds away from the end of the game. 5... Shawn maneuvered around an opponent, puck still against his stick ...4... he stared the goalie dead in the eyes as his heart rate increased from adrenaline ...3... thump thump ....2... shoot ....1... score. The crowd erupted into cheers causing the stadium to move up and down with the excitement in the building. You jumped up, smile so wide your cheeks hurt from the action, but you couldn’t help the proud feeling that erupted in your chest.
His teammates crowded him on the ice, adrenaline and victory rushing through their veins as they piled on one another, spirits high all around. The team’s all star player and captain was handed the winning trophy, National Champion written in bright gold lettering along the front. Cheeks flushed from the ice, Shawn held the trophy high above his head with a smile on his face that could be seen for miles, the stadium roaring in response. The energy was electric among the students, cheering from every inch of the team’s supporters as the team huddled around their winning prize and soaked up the crowd’s excitement. Shawn’s eyes met yours for a split second and you blew him a kiss, a silent message to him to show how proud you were, before he was whisked away for picture with his team.
_________________________
The outside of the stadium was packed full of students, all waiting for the victors to finally emerge from the stadium. They were chanting the team’s name, the school’s fight song blaring from their mouths in celebration. The doors swung open and the boys came out to the wild applause and screams of the crowd. Shawn led the pack, the team’s captain smiling wide from ear to ear as the students crowded him. You leaned against the wall of the stadium, watching as all of the fans congratulated him, not wanting to disrupt his moment. He thanked them profusely, but his eyes kept wandering around searching for one particular person. Shawn’s eyes met yours and they lit up, pushing past all of the girls begging for his attention. You noticed him moving towards you and lost all restraint, running into his arms so he could pick you up in his strong grasp. You wrapped your legs around his waist, nuzzling your face into his shoulder as he did the same, “I’m so proud of you, bubs.”
“Couldn’t have done it without you, baby,” he told you sincerely, head lifting to show off that dazzling smile, “You’re my good luck charm.” Shawn had sworn by this fact after the only game they had lost had been the 3rd game of the season, the one you skipped in order to study for an upcoming test. Ever since then, you made it a point to be at every game and they hadn’t lost since, furthering proving Shawn’s theory. You giggled as he placed you on the ground, hands coming up to cup your face in a passionate kiss. Breaking away he placed an arm around your waist and kept you close while more people came to talk to him about the game. You snuggled closer to his arm, using him as a way to keep your calm over how crowded the situation was, especially when you began to feel the jealous stares of the puck bunnies around you. Shawn felt your discomfort after a moment and he squeezed your waist in reassurance before beginning to maneuver you out of the crowd. “Do you think you’ll be ok going to a party with me or do you just want to go back to your dorm? I’ll do either, it’s up to you.”
The idea of going to a party tonight made you sick when you’d much rather just cuddle in the arms of your man, but there was no way you were going to let him skip out on a championship after party, “I’ll be fine, you’ve gotta go to the party.”
He turned your body to face his, a serious look on his face, “I’m serious, though, if you don’t feel comfortable going we can just...”
“We’re going,” you replied confidently, hiding the nerves bubbling inside of your chest, “And what you’re not gonna do is worry about me and instead let loose and have fun.”
“I always worry about you babe, but thank you. I don’t deserve you.” He gave you a kiss on your forehead before he led you to follow the crowd in the direction of the chaos.
_________________________
It was 2 hours into the party when you lost your boyfriend. He had been glued to your side the whole night in an attempt to make you feel comfortable, but once the guys tried to drag him into a game of beer pong after you had begun to strike up a conversation with a girl from your math class, you convinced him to go have fun, assuring him you would be fine. You weren’t one to drink so you had been nursing a beer all night long which only gave you a slight buzz. Shawn on the other hand was about 3 drinks in and had reached the point where you knew he was going to have a nasty hangover the next day. You couldn’t blame him though, you had actually promoted it when one of his teammates, Brian, had handed him another drink. “Shawn, I promise I’ll stay sober so you can have fun,” you had told him, but he protested, claiming that he didn’t want to ruin your night. However, you happened to love drunk Shawn because although you didn’t see him often, he was known to be extremely cute and clingy even if his energy was also to the max.
You followed the loud yells coming from within the house only to find Brian standing on top of the beer pong table in victory as Shawn laughed beneath him. Two guys you recognized as some of his teammates grimaced on the side as they took a swig of an unknown substance, immediately souring their faces in disgust. “Hey bubs,” you placed a tender hand on his shoulder, causing Shawn’s face to turn around with a dopey grin on his face.
“Babyyyyy,” he cooed, wrapping his arms around you, “I missed you.”
You could smell the alcohol on his breath, but you chose to ignore it, focusing on the feeling of being in his arms instead, “I missed you too, did you and Brian win your game?”
“We did! Baby, I’m so good at beer pong,” he mumbled into your hair as his hands roamed your sides, “I should play you sometime.”
“Nah, I’d rather play on your team.”
“Will you lovebirds stop hanging on each other over there, I need my beer pong partner back!”
Shawn’s head perked up after hearing Brian’s words and he pulled you in front of him, back to his chest with his arms still wrapped around you. “I’m not your partner anymore I’m hers,” he said confidently, placing his head on top of yours, “You wanna play us, Craigen?”
“I don’t want to drink anything, Shawn,” you whispered to him while Brian went on the hunt to find a partner.
“I know,” he took your hand in his, kissing the back lightly, “I’ll drink for you, ok?”
“You really think you need more to drink?” you teased and he laughed, throwing his head back causing him to hiccup. His eyes widened at his own actions and a giggle escaped his lips, “Probably not, but I’ve got a pretty girl that’ll take care of me.”
“Oh, I’ve gotta take care of you?’
“You don’t have to, but you’re the only one I want to,” he showed his puppy dog eyes, even though you were fully planning on ensuring he got home safely, “Pleaseeee.”
“I’m just messing with you,” you told him, ruffling through his curls, “I’ll always take care of you.” Just then, Brian came back with his newest victim, giving the both of you a mouthful after you pecked his lips before starting the game. Shawn wasn’t lying, even drunk he was good at beer pong allowing you to win even though you only made 3 throws. Brian’s team still managed to make a considerable amount of cups which led to your beloved boyfriend becoming even drunker than he already was. Once the clock hit 3 am and Shawn began suggesting that you join in on the body shots that people were beginning to do in the kitchen, you decided that it was time to bring your champion home.
_________________________
“Come on, bubs, let’s get you out of these clothes.” Shawn was busy mumbling something incoherent as you stumbled into his dorm room and placed him on the bed. You knew Brian was probably not coming back tonight, so you weren’t worried about him barging into the room in the middle of the night. You lightly tugged on his alcohol stained shirt, a result of him getting a little clumsy during his second round of beer pong, “You gotta help me a little bit here, big guy.”
He lifted his arms up to help you out, eyes glazed over as he sat on the edge of his bed, “’M tired.”
“I know, bubs,” you sighed, beginning to unbutton his pants, “Just gotta get you into some clean clothes.”
“Hey, missy, no funny business there,” he slurred out with a drunken smile on his lips as he grabbed your wrist from pulling down his pants, earning a giggle from you in response.
“Wouldn’t dream of it, bubs,” successfully tugging his pants off, you reached behind you for the pair of pajama pants you had placed on the dresser and turned back to the giant man child that now had a pout adorning his face.
“You don’t dream of it?” he asked hurt, eyes drooping from the lack of sleep, “But, but, I’m your boyfriend...and you’ve said I’m handsome, and, and I’m hot!”
You laughed at his antics, getting the pants around his ankles and putting your hands in his to help hims stand up. He leaned against your much smaller body as you pulled the waist band up and held his face in your hands. “I think you’re very, very handsome,” you told him, admiring how adorable he looked even with glazed, drunken eyes and a bright pink tint to his cheeks from the alcohol, “I also happen to think you’re the hottest man alive, but you just so happen to be extremely drunk right now which means you need to go to sleep.” Shawn collapsed into your arms, giving you a bone crushing hug as you stumbled back trying to regain your footing.
“I love you,” he mumbled into your shoulder, “so, so much.”
Your heart fluttered at his words. You had only been dating for a little over 5 months, so the words were still very new to the two of you and they almost made you cry at how lucky you were every time he said those 3 simple words. “I love you too, champ. Let’s get you to bed.”
You maneuvered him into the tiny bed of his dorm room and he immediately snuggled into your chest like a little puppy once you laid down. With his head rested comfortably on your chest and his arms wrapped around you, his breathing began to even out while you slowly ran your fingers through his curls, “Goodnight, my little champion.”
_________________________
Your alarm went off at 9am much to your dismay, and you struggled to reach over the curly headed boy on your chest to turn it off. You didn’t have a single clue as to why you still had a lecture today, but you did, and as much as you wanted to just lay in bed all day with your boyfriend, you couldn’t miss one of your hardest lectures. You tried to move out from underneath your giant of a boyfriend earning you a groan while his arms tightened around you. “Shawn, I have to get up,” you whispered, tracing over the freckles on his muscular back.
“Don’t go,” he mumbled into your chest, “Just wanna cuddle for a little bit.”
“I know bubs, but I have to get to class.”
At this, he finally let you leave his strong grasps, grabbing onto the pillow to hold onto in place of you, “What class?”
“Mr. Howard at 11, but I have to go home and get changed.” You had put on the sweatshirt you had under his jersey along with your jeans from the game, knowing you couldn’t just wear the shirt you had stolen from his closet to sleep in last night to walk back to your dorm. “I left you some water and medicine for your head on the nightstand, make sure to get some rest, ok?” you ruffled your hands through his hair and he relaxed further into the mattress from your motions. You gave him a soft kiss on his mass of curls, mumbling an I love you into them, before grabbing your belongings from atop Brian’s bed and turning towards the door.
Shawn grabbed your hand to stop you from leaving, placing the sweetest of kisses on the back of your hand while looking you in the eyes, “I love you more.” Your cheeks heated up at his words and you squeezed his hand lovingly before making your way out of his room.
Walking as fast as you could to your dorm room, you got ready in a hurry, knowing you would have to rush to make your lecture in time due to the extra moments you had spent at Shawn’s place. You put on the first reasonable outfit you could find and packed your bag at a rapid speed in order to make it out the door with 15 minutes to spare. It usually took about 20 minutes for you to walk to class, but you were determined to not be late today. You practically sprinted to the large stone building and managed to walk through the door just as the professor was about to lock it. Giving him a sheepish smile, your eyes searched for an open seat, only to let out a disappointed sigh when you noticed that your typical seat towards the front had been taken. The only available seat was right next to the door and you begrudgingly sat down in it as you took out your laptop to take notes.
30 minutes into the lecture and your brain was fried. Your mind kept on wandering off and daydreaming about being back in bed in Shawn’s arms no matter how much you tried to concentrate. This had to be one of your hardest lectures, but you were having such a hard time focusing that you were wondering if you should just pack your things and leave. The growling of your stomach cut off your thoughts and made you realize that you hadn’t eaten or drank anything before coming to class, which was definitely taking a toll on you. You sighed, looking back up at the professor when you heard the door of the lecture hall closing. Whipping your head around, you couldn’t see anyone entering the room so you focused your thoughts back to the screen with a confused look on your face. As you went to move your laptop to better see your professor, your eyes were drawn to something that had definitely not been on your desk a few seconds prior. A white cup of tea, noticeably from the school’s cafe, was sitting right on the corner of your desk, staring back at you. Tentatively, you picked it up, turning it around in your hands only to be met with Shawn’s signature handwriting written in Sharpie.
A hot hibiscus tea with one scoop of sugar.
Sorry if I made you late to class today, thank you for taking care of me beautiful.
Love you loads, Shawn aka Bubs aka your Champ aka Best Boyfriend ever
P.S. because you’re an amazing girlfriend and you spent the whole night making sure I didn’t kill myself I’m taking you out tonight. I’m picking you up at 7, dress warm;)
You bit your lip to hide the wide grin forming on your face and suddenly, you wanted to get out of class as soon as possible for a completely different reason. The lecture seemed to drag on for hours and the moment your professor was finished you were rushing out the door to your dorm. You still had almost 6 hours left to kill before Shawn picked you up, so you texted him letting you know that you were done with class as you began to distract yourself with homework and notes from other classes. Once 6pm approached, you heart was beating rapidly with excitement and you decided it wasn’t too early to get ready. You didn’t quite know what to wear when he said dress warm because the weather was considerably nice outside and did not require a warmer dress code. Nevertheless, you decided to put on one of Shawn’s hockey sweatshirts that had his name printed on the back in bold with the school’s logo on the front and some warm leggings underneath.
7 o’clock rolled around as a knock sounded on your door. Opening it up to reveal your perfect boyfriend, you launched yourself into his arms which he responded to by pulling you closer with a light laugh, “Hi baby.”
“Hi handsome,” you giggled as he looked at you sheepishly while holding out a bouquet of yellow roses to you, which he just happened to know were your favorite, as if it was your first date all over again. You thanked him with a blush on your face and a kiss to his cheek, causing his face to light up pink when you turned around, just from your presence.
“That’s an awfully nice sweatshirt you got there.”
You laughed as he made his way into your dorm room, wrapping his arms around you from behind while you were finding a place to put the flowers, “I got it from the greatest college hockey player I know.”
“I’m the only college hockey player you know,” he pointed out as you turned around in his hold.
“Exactly,” you teased and he feigned offense, pinching your sides lightly in protest and pouting out his lips. You leaned up to kiss the pout off his lips and he immediately deepened the kiss, pushing his body closer to yours until he suddenly came to his senses and pulled away, “Stop distracting me woman, we have places to be.” With that he grabbed your hand and began to pull you out of the dorms and towards his jeep, the two of you laughing the entire way.
_________________________
The drive to your unknown location took less than 10 minutes and before you knew it, Shawn was pulling into a parking stop at the school’s hockey stadium. “What are we doing here?” you curiously asked through giggles from the last joke he had just told you.
“I may or may not have gotten the rink free for tonight so we could skate together,” he confessed, a bashful blush on his cheeks as he got out of the jeep and came around to open your door.
“How did you manage that?”
“Being the school’s star player and captain does have its perks. You’re practically dating a celebrity baby.”
“Oh shut up,” you pushed him jokingly and he retaliated quickly, lifting you over his shoulder and running towards the door.
“Shawn! Let me down!” you laughed as your arms tried to grab onto a part of his muscular back to no avail. He grabbed your legs to insure you wouldn’t fall and spun you around one last time once he reached the entrance, putting you down gently. Shawn opened the door for you, the stadium feeling oddly empty with how quiet it was. Guiding you towards the rink, Shawn felt his heart bubble in anticipation at the thought of having his girl alone with him in his favorite place to just skate around. He handed you a pair of skates that he had already placed on a bench for you, having asked your roommate for your shoe size earlier in the day. “I haven’t been ice skating in about 5 years,” you admitted, a nervous chuckle leaving your lips. How you managed to have a star hockey player as your boyfriend when you could hardly skate on two feet you didn’t know, and even though you knew Shawn wouldn’t judge you for your skills, or lack of for that matter, you still felt a tad bit embarrassed.
“Don’t worry, hun,” he told you as he helped you lace up your skates, “I’ll hold your hand every second we’re out there.” With one last tug on the laces, he patted your skate securely, looking up at you with doe-like eyes, “How do they feel?”
“Perfect,” you leaned down and pecked his lips before he sat down next to you to begin his own skates. Taking your hand in his, he pulled you onto your wobbily feet and led you towards the ice.
“Now I’m gonna get on first, just hold onto my hands.” This wasn’t your forte for sure, but Shawn was a patient teacher and after a few laps around the rink, you were feeling much more confident, probably a little too confident. You had been skating for about 45 minutes when you had suggested that he taught you how to skate backwards. Shawn’s face had lit up, loving every second of you being interested in something he loved and he immediately turned himself around to hold your hands to show you how to start. For a beginner, you weren’t doing awful, but you were far from perfect and that became clear when your feet fell out from underneath you. Shawn wrapped his arms around you just as you were about to fall on your butt, effectively having you land on top of him on the ice, the both of you laughing your heads off.
Once the laughter began to settle, Shawn’s eyes began to turn softer, the lights inside of the rink making them glow brighter than usual. “How’d I get so lucky?” he mumbled to himself as he tucked a stray piece of hair behind your ear, but you heard it loud and clear.
“I ask myself that everyday, bubs.”
He cradled the back of your head in his hand, lifting his head to meet your lips in a passionate kiss. “I love you,” you whispered softly against his lips.
“I love you too, baby. You mean more to me than any hockey championship I could ever win.”
#shawn mendes#shawn mendes fics#shawn mendes imagine#shawn#shawn mendes fic#mendes#shawn peter raul mendes#mendes army#shawnblr#shawn mendes au#college#hockey#shawn mendes college#shawn mendes hockey#au#fic#college au#bookworm#reading#sm#imagine#write
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Like Father Like Daughter
Dewey Finn x Stark!Daughter Reader - Part 1
OK hai. so this is a crossover if you couldn't already tell lmao. Tony Stark Daughter reader x Dewey Finn. if you ain’t a fan of marvel then you don’t need to think of it as that and vice versa. this ended up very long winded lmao I apologise but I got carried away hehe. It’s a fluffy, kinda smutty, kinda angsty lil part one about the reader finding a connection in someone knew that she never expected!
I imagine them both to be around like 24/26 age wise maybe? I am also most likely going to be doing a part 2 that involves more of Tony hehe, hope you enjoy my lovelies!!
words - 4400 (lmao i’m so sorry)
warnings - fluff, slight smut, slight angst, drinking
also, this absolutely amazing mood board was created by the one and only @thewolfisapartofmysoul thank you so much for this little masterpiece it ties everything together amazingly xxx
“listen, my night is going to go the same as they always do: I’ll hook up with some guy, we’ll go back to mine, he’ll wake up and realise who I am, then my dad will see him leave, me and him will fight and then I’ll grab a cheese burger from burger king and then sleep off my hangover” you explained as you applied the final layer of mascara, talking to your best friend as you got ready to go out, yet again. your friend giggled “god y/n, you’re so like your dad when he was younger”. You rolled your eyes. Being the daughter of the famous genius, billionaire, playboy, philanthropist Tony Stark had its troubles. You were sick of the famous lifestyle, constantly being followed around, the lack of freedom and the fake friends was taking it’s toll on you. Not to mention your dad constantly being on your back. Yeah you got on with him great, most of the time, but there was a gap that no one was able to fix. When your mom died when you were 11, you began to change. Tony tried his best but you missed her.
So you started to act out. Going out all the time, getting drunk, getting laid then getting up to do it again the next day, never really making any real connections. Some would say you were your dads daughter, and they weren’t wrong. you could hold your drink, you went to university to study mechanics (not that you didn’t know how to do it all anyway), you were witty, and some would argue sometimes a bit arrogant – but only those who crossed you would argue arrogant. But no one knew the real you. Most just assumed you were the same as your father when he was your age; arrogant, rich and a shitty person. No one wanted to know the real you, and those who did, only did because of who your dad was.
So here you were, getting ready to go out for the fourth time this week, wearing tight black, high waisted jeans, a lacy bodysuit, black denim jacket and a pair of tatty old black converse. Your ACDC t-shirt was laying on your bed ready for when you came home too drunk, probably going to get thrown on the floor as you pushed some random guy down on to the sheets. You and your friend snuck out of your room at 9:15, trying to avoid your dad so you wouldn’t argue, stealing a bottle of his Jack Daniels off of the shelf in the kitchen as you both ran out of the apartment.
* * * *
“another double please good sir” you shouted at the barman over the painfully loud music at the bar, whom you had been flirting with. He was cute. Probably hung like a horse. Your friend had fucked off with some other guy around 35 minutes ago so you stayed at the bar and drank to your hearts content, hoping the barman would be tonight’s victim. You clinked glasses with the barman, upon looking at his name tag you realised his name was jack, “cheers jack” you said as you both downed a double rum and coke. You giggled once you had finished your drink, licking the corner of your top lip with bedroom eyes painted on your face. Jack smiled back, then his eyes squinted and a wave of realisation brushed his face “wait.. aren’t you the daughter of Tony Stark?” he smirked. Your face dropped. “why you gotta ruin it jack” you said as you got up to walk away and find someone new, leaving a 50 dollar bill on the table for the barman to pick up.
Huffing, you began to walk to the other bar across the room, but suddenly someone bumped into you and all you could feel was the freezing cold liquid from his glass trickle all down your tits and chest. “what the fuck” you exclaimed, flailing your hands at your side. The boy looked directly at your tits when he realised what he had done, his eyes growing wide, then up at your face, then back down. “hooollyy fuck, oh my god I’m so sorry” he exclaimed, looking back up at your face. You examined his features, curly, dark hair, little bit of scruff on his face, ACDC t-shirt on, similar to the one laying on your bed currently, and cute as fuck brown eyes. “uh, come on I gotta get you some tissues”. He grabbed your wrist and headed back towards the bar.
You followed him drunkenly, swaying slightly and bumping into him. He grabbed a few tissues from the holder at the bar and went to start wiping away the Bacardi on your chest but he stopped when he realised where he was about to touch. You looked up at him knowingly and nodded, smirking. He smiled back, snickering slightly. He dabbed the area where your chest was exposed, and tried to keep his composure. You continued to smirk and put one hand on your hip, looking down at him brushing over your exposed top tit, thinking about how he is probably freaking out inside. “sick t-shirt” you told him, looking at his top then up to his eyes. “uhh, thanks” he said still dabbing your chest. You laughed “alright dude I think it’s all gone”. He removed his hand quickly, “oh yeah.. sorry. Yeah no my t-shirt was actually from their tour last year” he smiled looking down at it then back up at you. A dopey smile painted on his face. You got excited “oh my god no way! I was at that concert!” He matched your excitement “oh no way man that’s sick! The one where Brian Johnson brought that girl on stage and she flashed her tits?”. Once he said that you were instantly taken back to that concert. That girl he was on about was you. You and your dad had fallen out because you both got far too drunk at that concert so you went down to the crowd and done what you did to piss him off. It was fair to say he didn’t talk to you for a month straight. You laughed “oh my god that girl was me!”. His eyes grew wide again “no way that’s amazing” he laughed with you. “yeah I was far too drunk and was trying to piss off my dad. I’m y/n by the way.” You shouted over the loud music. “Dewey” he replied close to your ear so you could hear him. “and if I had a daughter who’d done that, she’s never see the light of day again” he joked.
Dewey. Dewey, Dewey, Dewey. This guy seemed pretty cool. “Hey Dewey, I think I owe you a drink” you said turning towards the bar and leaning over it, sticking your ass out ever so slightly, and Dewey had noticed the gesture, raising his eyebrow, admiring, but pretended he didn’t. He joined you at the bar and put his hand up to get the attention of the barman “I’m pretty sure this is supposed to go the other way around”. You laughed, “trust me I don’t mind. I’ve got more money than sense- Hey jack two double Bacardi please, just add it to my tab”. Dewey laughed “well as long as you’re sure”. You looked at him and grinned “more than sure. So uh, where are your friends?” you pondered, wondering why he was alone. Dewey looked down and tried to keep smiling. “ah you know guys, they are all out to pick up girls and get laid so they left to go to a club just before I bumped into you”. He looked up at the barman then down at you again. you rested your chin on your hand “so why didn’t you go with them?” a puzzled look on your face. Dewey looked down again. “I mean, well, I don’t wanna sound corny but I come out for the music, and to have a good time – not just to pick up chicks, and get laid”. You smiled at him, how sweet. “and besides, this bar plays sick music and its cheap.. and well, its got cool people like you in it”.
You grinned and elbowed him playfully “aw you, you’re cute”. A blush appeared on Dewey’s face as he looked up then at you. You also came to this bar because of the music. It was relatively small so not many people ever really noticed who you were. But they played ACDC, Aerosmith, Black Sabbath, Queen.. the list was endless and all your favourites. “not a lot of other people I know like this bar because if the music, but I freaking love it” you said handing him his freshly made drink, and clinking it with him. “bottoms up” Dewey said and you replied “bottoms up good sir”. As you held the glass up to your mouth your eyes moved to the door where you seen your friend leaving with some guy on her arm. Rolling your eyes you necked back the double Bacardi.
“well, seeing as both of our friends have abandoned us, do you fancy getting drunk and having a laugh with me Dewey?” you questioned him as he slammed the cup back on the bar from downing the strong beverage. He looked over and you “sounds like a damn good plan to me y/n”. You smirked. “we are gonna have so much fun”.
* * * *
The amount of alcohol you had consumed between one another was sinful by the time the bar closed. Shot after shot, double after double. You had probably drank the place dry of Bacardi and Tequila. The music was the best they had ever played and you both danced and jumped the night away. What was going on? Normally you were grinding up against some guy trying to get him to go home with you, not that it took much, but tonight you actually had the time of your life. Between belting out the lyrics to Don’t Stop Believing, to trying to do all of the parts of Bohemian Rhapsody had you on some high you had never felt. Dewey wasn’t like any other guy you normally kicked around with but boy were you glad that he spilled his drink on you. You had shared one kiss with him the whole time you were there and it was after the song Sweet Child O’ Mine. you had looked up at the drunken face singing the last lyric and just felt an urge to jump forward and kiss it. Dewey was shocked, but pleasantly surprised. It was a soft kiss, the kind where his top lip rested below yours. He simply rested his hands on your waist for a second before pulling away because the beginning of Summer of 69 began to play. You laughed at him. He was so different from the other jerks you would pick up. They would grab your ass and stick their tongues down your throat; but not Dewey. He was different.
Dewey pulled you away from the closing bar as well as he could as you argued with the bouncer about leaving. “and y-you listen to me.. it’s o-only 3:30 it’s so EEARRLLY” you shouted at them as they kicked everyone out, not there were many left. Dewey laughed drunkenly at you as he pulled you down the street “yeah you tell em”. You kept a hold of Dewey’s hand as you cuddled into him slightly, trying to beat the cold, walking the streets to anywhere. Neither of you secretly wanted to leave one another. “here, do you want my jacket?” Dewey slightly slurred,. “nah ma man I’m good I’ve got my own” you smirked looking up at him with punch-drunk eyes. Dewey looked down at you and smiled then he slammed his eyes shut and used his hands to play an air guitar, making noises to sound like the guitar at the start of Highway to Hell. as soon as you realised what he was doing, you also smashed your eyes closed and moved your head back and forth “living easy.. living free” you started. Unconsciously you started walking in the direction back to your dads apartment at the Stark Tower as you both continued belting out rock classics to one another, singing the guitar riff to see if the other one could guess the song.
“oh you know I know that ones Hotel California by the Eagles” Dewey exclaimed as you reached the front doors of Stark Tower. Dewey hadn’t even clocked where he was because he was too drunk and preoccupied by you, but he knew that this must be your apartment building by the way you began to walk towards the door. In Dewey’s mind this meant goodbye. This was what always happened. He would walk a girl home, give her his number then never hear from her again. he was nervous about the rejection. You stopped once you realised that Dewey had stopped and wasn’t following you. You looked around at him “what are you waiting for? A cold?” you joked. Dewey’s eyes opened wide “wait what? You want me to come in with you?” he said dumbfound. You scoffed “obviously. You wouldn’t believe the alcohol collection my dad has up there.. speaking of, my dad will probably be in the apartment but he’s probably passed out in his workshop so wouldn’t even hear a bomb going off in the kitchen so don’t worry about him”. Dewey felt a blush creeping on to his face, no one had ever invited him up like this before. It made him feel like he was someone important, or interesting.
You both pretended to act sober walking past the receptionist, not that she would say anything anyway, she knew exactly who you were and what you were up to. You playfully pushed Dewey into the empty elevator and pressed the button to the penthouse. Out of habit, you pulled Dewey by his t-shirt flush against you and started to kiss him. Dewey chuckled into the kiss, closing his eyes, not being able to believe what was going on. He put his arms around your waist as you slung yours over his shoulders. “hey.. do you.. have.. any.. coffee?” he questioned between kisses. You pulled away from him and looked up at him confused. “of course I do why?” you smiled. “because I could murder a cup right now” you giggled at him. “of course I do”. You LOVED coffee. It was your favourite beverage, next to Jack Daniels of course; your daddy’s daughter alright. Having coffee after a night out was always one of your favourite things to drink, you swore it made the hangover slightly easier. However all the guys you usually brought home went straight to the vodka to get more drunk. This guy was so fresh, and new, and more like yourself than you could have imagined.
When the elevator door dinged open you and Dewey came out laughing about something stupid. Suddenly JARVIS started to talk to you. “uh, miss Stark, you know Mr Stark doesn’t approve of you bringing strays home every-“ you heard the AI start “oh shut up Jarvis, where is he anyway” you moaned back at it. “your father is downstairs in the workshop asleep” you silently cheered “yes. Thank you JARVIS, bye”. You turned round to look at Dewey who was in shock, eyes wide and mouth gaped open. “what.. the hell.. was that?” he asked laughing. You giggled at his reaction “ah don’t worry about JARVIS, he’s kinda just like the intercom system”. “I can still hear you miss. I’m actually a lot smarter than-“ “goodnight JARVIS” you cooed at the AI before he would drone on. You headed over to the kitchen. Dewey followed you and looked around, in complete awe. “your folks must be super rich y/n, what the hell” you chuckled “yeah, you could say that”.
As you went to turn on the coffee machine, Dewey’s eyes caught the wall in the back of the living room that was full of classic, expensive guitars. He began to walk over to them “woow no fucking way! Where the hell did you get these bad boys?” he exclaimed, admiring the Gibson Les Paul “Black Beauty” 1956, that was at least $30000. You turned on the coffee machine and walked over to stand beside him, folding your arms. “yeah, it’s a hobby me and my dad share. We are obsessed.” You walked down the wall a little more picking up the 1968 Fender Strat. You sat on the edge of the couch and started to pick at the strings. “this. this is our prize possession. The 1968 Fender Strat, previously owned by Jimmy Hendrix.” Dewey’s face lit up in disbelief. You continued to look down at the strings “yeah my dad paid.. what was it now? 2.3 mil I think it was? Maybe 2.4? I can’t remember exactly but it’s somewhere around that figure.” Dewey was dumbfounded for the second time in 15 minutes. “by mil, you mean million right?” you nodded. “who the fuck is your dad” Dewey laughed. You looked down then to the side then at him “aw it doesn’t matter.. why don’t you hold this, have a wee play and I’ll go sort out the coffee? What do you take?” you questioned, handing him the guitar. Dewey’s eyes lit up when you handed him the instrument. Excitement bubbling in him. “uhh… I’ll just take it black the now” he replied. You smiled to yourself walking back to the kitchen. You also took you coffee black after a night out.
Before fixing the coffee you went and got changed. Walking into your bedroom you were glad that you had laid out your ACDC t-shirt before leaving, actually putting it on before getting in the bed for the first time in a long time. You had just decided to wear the t-shirt and a pair of panties seeing that the t-shirt just covered your ass, and a pair of your dads black sport socks as they were the comfiest. you tied your hair up in a loose, messy ponytail and went back to pour the coffees. You could hear Dewey playing the guitar from the kitchen and the sounds soothed you. There was nothing you loved more. You could tell from the sound that he had picked up the acoustic guitar. “oooh the Gibson Hummingbird, nice choice” you complimented as you walked towards Dewey with two mugs in your hand. “yeah It’s one of my.. favourites” he looked up to see you in just the ACDC t-shirt, the exact same one he had on. It was long, but he could still make out your figure, and the shape of your breasts from the way it was sitting. And it sat high, very high on your legs, at the top of your thighs. It was hot. Dewey tried not to stare but it was hard when you looked that beautiful. “nice t-shirt” he decided to say as he put the guitar back on the wall. you blushed slightly “thanks. You know, normally people just walk past the guitars without giving them a thought.” Dewey came and sat on the opposite end of the couch from you “are you kidding? Those guitars are probably the coolest thing I’ve ever seen. Guitars and music is my life. I actually run my own music business for kids, sort of like an after school thing actually” he said proudly. “oh my god that’s amazing, I love that” you returned excitedly. Dewey looked down at his mug, blushing “yeah the kids enjoy it, I mean so do I. the little rascals”. You smiled at him.
Dewey looked up at you. “you know, I’ve never met anyone like you before”. You smirked “I’m just one of a kind baby” you joked. Baby. Dewey felt a little heat in his stomach when he heard you say that, even though it was in jest. “nah you’re the same dude, your so different from anyone I’ve ever met. You’re so down to earth, and genuine.. and we have so much in common like I’ve never met anyone else who nerds out over guitars like me and my dad before” you smiled. “your dad sounds like a cool guy, I’d like to meet him one day”. You chuckled and looked down “yeah don’t they all”. “what?” Dewey questioned, not really hearing you. “nothing” you said, smiling and looking up at him. The warm glow from the lights really made his face look soft, and inviting. You put your coffee on the table and scooted over next to him, taking the mug off of him and placing it on the table. Dewey furrowed his eyebrows, not really sure what to do, or what was going to happen next.
You put your hands up to his face, rubbing your thumbs up and down. “you’re really different, and I really like it”. Dewey blushed from your words. You leant into kiss him softly, his top lip below yours. Dewey kissed you back. This was like no kiss either of you had experienced. It was warm, and soft, not aggressive and needy. You felt butterflies in your stomach, which was something you hadn’t experienced in a long time. You had kissed a lot of guys and felt a lot of things, but nothing ever like this. Dewey moved his hands to your waist and pulled you on to his lap, your legs straddling his middle. He then moved his hands down and on to your thighs. Those thighs. He had been thinking about them from the moment he seen you walk in with the mugs of coffee. You moaned slightly at his touch, his rough fingers, calloused from playing guitar you imagined. That moan made Dewey feel weak. He moved his hands up your body, towards your under boob and just rubbed the skin over your t-shirt there. The kiss became a little bit more heated as your hands began to play with the hair at the nape of his neck. Grinding on his lap ever so slightly, you could feel the bulge growing in his jeans, but you had to retreat back to your room if this was to go any further. You couldn’t risk your dad walking in.
You got up off of his lap and grabbed his hand, pulling him off of the couch. When Dewey got up, his body met yours in another kiss. Kissing him back you began to walk backwards towards the staircase to your room. “come on, we’ll head up to my room yeah?” Dewey nodded, leaning in to kiss you again. you chuckled and kissed him quickly pulling him towards the stairs.
Upon reaching your room, you kicked the door open with the back of your foot, still making out with Dewey when you approached the door. “JARVIS.. close.. the.. blinds” you said between kisses. “of course ma’am” the AI replied. Dewey pulled away for a second, admiring your room. Band posters all over the wall, the huge floor-to-ceiling long windows at the side, all of the tech and tools lying around. “wow this is crazy” Dewey proclaimed. You chuckled and rolled your eyes “yeah I know, sorry it’s a mess” you laughed. Dewey pulled you by your t-shirt flush against him “you are so damn smart and sexy you know that” you smirked, blushing slightly. “I know” you winked. “JARVIS, main light off, mood light on”. Suddenly the brightness of the room faded and a red glow appeared, bringing a lustful ambience to the room. you kissed one another again, needy. You began to unbutton Dewey’s jeans and pulled them down, he kicked them off as you walked backwards towards the bed. You pushed Dewey down on to the bed and he sat on the edge. You were about to join him before you suddenly got a bit self-conscious. Normally you had some sort of sexy lingerie on, some sort of lacy bodysuit thing, or at least a sexy matching bra and thong to give you a bit more confidence. But you had been so preoccupied with getting to know Dewey that you had completely forgot. Would he think you were ugly? Wouldn’t want to be around you anymore? You felt hot suddenly. Were you not good enough? “I uh.. I don’t have any kinda like, you know, sexy lingerie or anything on.. not even a lacy bra like.. I’ll go change if you want.. like I don’t mind-“. Dewey’s eyebrows furrowed and you got worried for a second before he replied “oh my god are you kidding me?” He pulled you on to his lap by grabbing a hold of your ACDC top. “you don’t need anything like that to look sexy.” He looked up at you. You blushed and put your arms around his neck. “why on earth would you think that? I think that when you walked in the room with just that ACDC t-shirt on and those socks was the hottest thing I’ve ever seen”. You giggled. “you don’t need all that stuff to look beautiful” he looked up at you as if you were the most beautiful thing in the world. It was enough to bring a tear to a glass eye. “and if this isn’t what you want? If you want me to just lie here, tickle your back, stroke your hair, cuddle you or even if you want to just sit and talk all night.. I would be more than happy to do any of that with you”. You began to tear up. No one had ever treated you like this before.
You kissed him again. “you are far too good for me Dewey Finn. How on earth did I find you?” he smiled “I’m one of a kind baby” he winked, repeating your earlier statement. He kissed you again, and you kissed him back. Suddenly regaining your confidence back slightly, you lifted up and took of your t-shirt, leaving yourself bare, apart from a thong, straddling this strangers middle. Dewey moaned when he looked at you. His hands ran up your waist and rib cage as his mouth went to the space between your breasts “beautiful” he said between kisses. You moaned slightly as he rubbed his hands up and down your body slowly, continuing to leave kisses and suck on your skin. “you taste like Bacardi”.
#dewey finn#tony stark#stark daughter#like father like daughter#school of rock#marvel#iron man#ironman#alex brightman
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Working For Love: A TerrorMoo Story 15/17
So I just realized that this almost done! I really have enjoyed this story and I hope that you have, too.
Warning: A bit of angst/sadness in this drabble
Previous Part
Start from the beginning
Brock couldn’t believe it.
His stomach cramped unpleasantly as he stared down at the scale, wondering what had happened. He’d been staying strict on his work-out routine, and had taken Brian’s helpful hints at changing parts of his diet. His protein was on the rise, and he was careful when going out with Mini for dinner. The increased weights in his program were hard, but he’d started to look forward to the challenge. Sometimes he got too tired from his job and his work, and he couldn’t get through the whole thing. He went every day, though, and made working out second nature to him. Luke and Anthony’s kickboxing class was one of his favorite ways to wake up in the morning, and he didn’t feel complete without walking a few miles every day. He’d been doing so much better, working so hard-
But none of that mattered because the scale didn’t lie.
After nine months and forty pounds of hard work and dedication, he’d gained again. Nothing felt heavier on his body. His clothes from the start of his journey had been donated, and he wondered if he’d have to buy bigger pants again. A nervous hand ran over his stomach, pinching at the sides and wincing. Maybe he shouldn’t have let Brian tease him into splitting that cheesecake on their date? He’d had a heavier lunch that day (despite all the good he’d been doing, Brock still had a tendency to stress eat, and the date had made him overwhelmed with anxiety) and he hadn’t been able to go to the gym. All of the signs pointed to sticking with a light dinner and no extra extravagances.
Then the date came. Brian had looked so alluring in the low lights of the restaurant, and the wine they’d had helped ease some of Brock’s inhibitions. When Brian swept a piece of cheesecake onto his fork and held it against Brock’s lips, he was helpless to fight it. It was so intimate, letting Brian feed him, a warm thumb brushing the side of his mouth after the dessert was gone from the plate. Nobody had taken the time to wine and dine Brock with such thought, always letting him plan out the dates. To be taken care of like that was a dream come true, with soft hand holding and interesting conversation entwined in the hazy pleasure. Brock wanted to melt into his shoes when Brian walked him to his door, and nearly asked him to come inside when they said their goodbyes.
“Good thing I didn’t,” Brock muttered, arms crossing over his stomach with a sigh. If he had let Brian come in, he would have seen the truth behind Brock’s body change. Even with some of the weight off, he was heavy. Brock would never look like Evan, Luke, or any of the guys at the gym. How could Brian pick someone that looked like him when he had better options? His ex found that out after a few years, but Brian was smarter. It’d take him one look at Brock without clothes to realize his mistake and end their relationship. And they weren’t even officially together yet. Brock’s heart sunk to the bottom of his stomach when he thought of his life without Brian, the reality of his feelings hitting him hard. He didn’t want to lose Brian’s warm smile and endearing words. He wanted to know how it felt waking up next to Brian in the morning, with warm arms wrapped around him and kisses tattooed over his collarbone.
Could Brian even get his arms around you? The negative voice that had been so meek over the past two months roared through the silence of his mind, making Brock’s eyes close. His ex had never liked cuddling in bed; was it because he felt suffocated by Brock’s weight? It was embarrassing to realize it now, and Brock quickly rushed out of the bathroom to hide from the mirror that would highlight all the areas he desperately needed to work on. He tripped into his bed with a panicked shout, legs wrapped in blankets and head smashing into his pillow. For a second he fought the new angle, knowing he had plans for the day. He was supposed to meet up with Mini for coffee (so many carbs) and then work out (which wouldn’t help anything) before Brian and him went on their date to the movies (with soda and popcorn and fatfatfat)-
“God, I’m so stupid.” His hand reached out to his nightstand, fingers fumbling with his phone to pull up his contacts. Two texts were sent to Brian and Mini about Brock ‘not feeling good’ before he yanked his blankets over his head to hide away from the world. He just needed a day to… process.
But one day turned to two, and it was a good thing his school was on winter break, since Brock didn’t leave his apartment in the three days after his weigh in. His bed had become his lifeline as he snuggled deeper into his blankets, only getting up to shower and change his clothes. He hoped that his phone wouldn’t go off again. Several of his friends had been texting him, concerned about his sudden radio silence, but he didn’t have the energy to reply. He could have let the device simply die to avoid talking with them, but his fear of something bad happening without his knowledge made him charge it every night. The only time he was tempted to answer the texts were when they came from Brian, each endearing pet name scribbled across the screen chipping away at Brock’s resolve. But then his mind would go back to scale, the higher number, and he’d drop the phone instantly. On day four, he received no notifications or calls.
He should have known something was different.
“Brock?” Brian’s voice entering his apartment made Brock jerk out of bed, panicked at the sound. His feet scrambled to meet the floor of his bedroom as he heard his name called again, thoughts in disarray when he rushed forward to slam his bedroom door shut. His back met the wood when he slid down the surface, hands covering his face to try and steady his breathing. What was Brian doing in his apartment? Why had he’d come in person? Did Mini give him Brock’s spare key? Brock’s head thumped backwards onto the door, holding back another groan when a gentle knock tapped the other side of the wood.
“I’m...here,” He pushed out weakly, realizing his throat was a bit rough from lack of use.
“Hoped so, otherwise that door slammed on it’s own, and you’ve got some crazy drafts that Nogla needs to fix.” The ease of Brian’s joke was a warm stream of water touching sore skin, easing Brock’s body faster than any massage or night of sleep could do. His hands twitched by his side, wanting to open the door and see the face he’d missed. But his arms pressed awkwardly at his sides, the pudge under his bicep reminding him of his failure.
“Why are you here?” He asked instead, hearing Brock shuffle on the other side of the door.
“Because a guy I really like hasn’t come around the gym in a couple days, and I miss him.” The interesting mix of warmth and shame that battled in his stomach made him pull his knees up, arms wrapped around his legs.
“You shouldn’t like a guy like him,” he whispered, dropping his forehead onto his kneecaps.
“Why not?” Brian didn’t shut down Brock’s statement, sounding curious in his response.
“Because he’s not good enough for you.”
“Seemed pretty great at dinner the other night.”
“Probably because he can finish off your cheesecake.” The degrading comment slipped out easily, and he winced as his words dug deeper into his heart.
“I could finished six of those little pieces on my own. I just offered some because I like sharing with you.” The kindness finally crushed Brock’s resistance, shoulders caving in on themselves. “What’s this really about?”
“I gained weight. All that work, and I-I wasted it.”
“How much did you gain, sweetheart?” And god, he was still being kind. Brock wanted to cry.
“Two pounds.” There was a pause in the conversation, and Brock’s cheeks burned in humiliation.
“Brock, I’m going to need you to open the door. Can you do that?”
“...Yeah.” He slowly moved to his knees, turning to open the door. This was it. This was where Brian would realize how pointless it was to keep working with Brock, and the pride he felt over Brock would-
“Hey, handsome.” The words were something Brock had heard a hundred times before, with the same soft gaze and crooked grin. Brian’s hands showed no disgust when reaching up to Brock, gentle palms cupping his cheeks as soon as the door swung open. “I’m going to talk to you about this, explain all those negative thoughts right out of your head, but I’ve gotta do this first.”
“Do what-”
Brock was mid-sentence when Brian leaned forward, lips meeting in a kiss. The pace was slow and thought out, with Brian tilting just enough for their mouths meld perfectly. Everything felt overwhelming and amazing at the same time. Brock’s hands were curled over his thighs, fingers twitching from the shock of their kiss. Brian’s lashes looked so long when dusting the top of his cheeks, and Brock realized he still had his eyes open. Taking a slow breath through his hose, Brock melted into the kiss, finally responding to the gentle brush of tongue over his lower lip. Brian’s mouth was warm from affection, yet firm with conviction that Brock didn’t know Brian could possess. The hands that once held his cheeks smoothed down his neck, making Brock gasp and shudder into the touch. Brian, seeming satisfied in the reaction, finally pulled back from the kiss, letting their noses brush each other when breathing his next sentence again Brock’s lips.
“God, that felt nice.” There was no regret in Brian’s eyes, the smile dopey and mirroring the feelings bouncing through Brock’s nerves. The hum that vibrated against his mouth was pleased, like a lion after a feast. Brian’s hands continued to move over Brock’s skin, one hand curling into the back of Brock’s hair while the other slipped to Brock’s hip. “I should have done that after our date.”
“What? Did you hear what I said?” Brock asked, unsure how to handle Brian’s nod against his forehead.
“I did. And did you hear when I said that I’d explain that weight gain when you’re building muscle means you’re doing something right?” Brian’s reply was surprising, which Brock knew was obvious on his face from Brian’s snort of laughter. “Yeah, I gained like ten pounds of pure muscle one year. Muscles are heavier than fat, so when you replace it, it’ll seem like you’re gaining weight. You’ve been spending more time with Luke and Anthony, and kickboxing is a really good way to trim fat while bulking up. That might be why your muscles are building faster now than before. You’re not messing up, Brocky, you’re doing exactly what you’re supposed to do. I’m so proud of you.”
“But I...no that can’t-” Brock’s chest hurt from the expansion of his heart, wanting to explode from its confinement in relief. He hadn’t expected such a positive reaction, the praise making him uneasy on his knees. “He said being heavier wasn’t attractive.”
“I don’t know who ‘he’ is, and we’re going to sit down after this and have a long conversation about all the reasons I should punch this idiot in the mouth. But Brocky,” another soft kiss was given between breaths, and then he was pulled into Brian’s embrace, arms steady and secure wrapping around him. “You could gain every pound back that you’ve lost, and I would find you just as breathtaking as I do now. I was tripping over you the first day I saw you, and that was before you lost a single pound. Nothing could make you ugly to me. And after I got to know you? Sweetheart, the most beautiful part about you has got nothing to do with what you look like.”
“Brian.” His hands jerked up to clutch at Brian’s back, burying his face into Brian’s shoulder. His breathing was stuttered, but Brian said nothing, rubbing his hand soothingly along Brock’s spine. Like all he wanted was to comfort Brock’s insecurities and fears.
And somehow, Brock could believe that.
Awww see they’re okay. And a kiss! Yay for kisses. ^.^ So I hope you enjoyed this bittersweet drabble, and get ready for the lst two. As always, like, reblog, and let me know what you think!
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Beautiful Mess Part 2
A Brian May x Reader Fic
Summary: Reader works in a bookshop. She meets Brian May and they have an instant connection. It seems to be a fairy tale romance. But, things are seldom what they seem.
Word Count: 2.6k
Tag List: @psychosupernatural, @someone-get-a-medic, @bensrhapsody, @deakyclicks, @crazylittlethingcalledobsession, @minigranger, @crazyweirdocalledfriday, @mrs-jack-murphy, @not-john-watsons-blog, @simmisblog, @mirkwoodshewolf, @assembledherethevolunteers, @thosequeenboys, @lv7867 If you’d like to be added, let me know!
A/N: Ah...the plot thickens. A hint of a conflict arises.
Part 1
Part 2 here we go!!!
“Are you quite certain we’ve never met before?” Brian asked, popping a French fry into his mouth.
You decided on a casual dinner of veggie burgers and fries, since you knew things needed to remain friendly. He watched you for a response, blinking a few times in a way that was uniquely Brian.
“Do you believe in past lives?” you returned.
His brow furrowed and he shook his head. “No, not really.”
“Shame,” you replied, raising an eyebrow at him as you ate a fry. “It would have been an awfully convenient explanation.”
He chuckled. “Convenient, perhaps, but not very logical.”
“Situations like this rarely are,” you said.
“True,” he agreed. “But since I don’t know you, you’ll have to tell me more about yourself.”
“What would like to know?”
He looked away, tapping his chin with his finger.
“Where do you live?” he asked.
“Oh, very subtle,” you teased.
His cheeks went pink. “I just -”
“Relax, Brian,” you said with a laugh. “I know.”
He smiled and you cocked your head. “What is it?”
“I like that,” he said.
“Like what?”
“How you say my name.”
It was your turn to blush. Brian’s name rolled off your tongue naturally. You briefly imagined all the ways you could say it and smiled to yourself. Brian just loved the way it sounded with your voice.
“To answer your question, I live in a flat just around the corner from the shop,” you said. “I walk to and from work every day.”
“You live alone?”
You nodded. “Yes, I’m by myself for now.”
“For now?” he pressed. “That changing soon?”
A wave of nerves hit you. The answer to that was more complicated than he knew, and it wasn’t something you even wanted him to understand.
“Maybe,” you said dismissively. “Life happens and situations change. I should hope I wouldn’t live alone forever.”
“I hope that too,” he returned. “Being alone brings a certain peace, but -”
“No one wants to be lonely,” you finished.
“Right,” he said, looking at you, amazed.
You beamed at one another. Dinner continued in a similar way, exchanging basics about yourselves like where you lived and where you grew up and family. You told him that both your parents were gone, which he expressed deep sympathy for. He told you how he built his guitar with his dad, which thoroughly impressed you. You bonded over a shared love of animals and nature.
Brian was easily the best person to talk to about anything. He really focused on you when you talked. His eyes were fixed on yours, and he always leaned toward you. His responses were thoughtful and he avoided turning the conversation to himself unless you directly asked. He was refreshing, and you found yourself liking him a lot more than you should by the end of the meal. Although, you finished the meal long before you finished talking.
“I should be getting home,” you said, checking your watch.
Brian frowned. “It is late, I suppose.”
“Don’t be too disappointed,” you said. “I’ve had such a lovely time.”
“I have too,” he replied. “May I walk you home?”
You smiled. “I’d like that very much.”
You left together and headed back toward your flat. You passed the bookshop on the way, where you told him to stop.
“What’s up?” he wondered.
“I need to get Cat,” you said. “I can’t leave him in store.”
You unlocked the door and went inside, not bothering to turn the lights on. You knew your way around here better than your own home. As you walked between the shelves, you noticed your hand in Brian’s. You had no idea when or how it happened, but you did not let go. You focused on the feeling of his warm palm against yours, and the way your steps fell in sync as you walked across the wooden floor.
“Cat!” you called.
A soft little meow followed in response. You found him perched on a shelf in the children’s section. He watched you with curious eyes, tail flicking back and forth.
“He looks as if he’s been waiting for us,” Brian remarked.
“He sort of does,” you agreed. You looked at Cat. “It’s ten minutes to curfew, you know.”
Brian laughed. “He’s strict, isn’t he?”
“It’s all very new, we’re still getting used to each other,” you joked, although feeling like you were talking about more than just Cat. “After all, it hasn’t even been a day.”
“Good lord,” Brian said. “It really was only this morning that we met.”
“Mhm,” you replied. “Doesn’t feel like it, does it?”
He shook his head. “It feels like much longer. Although, I am very much enjoying getting to know you, Y/N.”
You closed your eyes and hummed. “I like that.”
“Like what?”
“How you say my name.”
You opened your eyes and looked at him, a sly smile parting your lips as he gave your hand a squeeze.
Somewhere, in the back of your mind, your conscience was screaming at you. Face red, voice hoarse screaming. This was wrong. Nothing could become of this no matter what you felt. You knew better and you shouldn’t lead him on. It wasn’t fair to subject him or yourself to the kind of pain this would bring, given your situation. You needed to put a stop to this.
Your heart, on the other hand, was proving much louder and much easier to give in to. Your heart called out for Brian. To pursue what was there because you had never felt anything like this before. You had never had an easier time around someone new. Everything flowed with Brian. You were drawn to him as if by a magnet - a pull that was harder to resist than you ever thought. Looking at Brian’s face in the moonlight, you felt that you could deny him nothing. You were sold on him, no matter who had a hold on you.
Turning your eyes to Cat, you called him down. He was small enough to perch on your shoulder, little claws clinging to your sweater. Then, you left the shop, locking the door behind you. Hand in hand with Brian, you made your way down the street to your flat. When you reached the front door, you came to a stop and faced him.
“Thank you for such a great evening,” you said. “I haven’t been able to chat to someone like this in a very long time.”
“I had a wonderful time,” he replied. “Really.”
You grinned at him. It was dopey, blissed out sort of grin, where you poked your tongue between your teeth. Brian felt his heart skip a beat.
“Goodnight, Brian,” you said, feeling once again the joy of his name in your mouth.
He gazed at you, eyes intense. He leaned forward and you sucked in a soft breath. But he didn’t go for your lips. Instead, he brushed his lips against your cheek. Just barely grazing your skin. It made your whole body tingle with anticipation. You nearly whined for more, but swallowed it down. When he pulled away, you shivered at the loss of contact.
“Goodnight, Y/N,” he said.
He squeezed your hand once more, shared one last lingering look, and then turned and walked away down the street. You watched him go, heart pleading for you to follow him and never spend another moment without him by your side. This time, logic won. You shook your head and entered your apartment, feeling both on top of the world and like the worst woman in it. You set Cat on the floor to let him roam and learn his way around.
“Here’s your new home, I suppose,” you told him.
You headed to your bedroom, mind racing with everything going on. Brian was so wonderful and you felt a powerful urge to be around him. And yet...there was the issue of Richard. There was a lot to think about, and you weren’t sure you’d be sleeping tonight.
The next morning, Brian was still smiling when he woke up. His mind was so occupied with thoughts of you, that his morning was a mess. He put his shoes on the wrong feet and nearly stumbled out the door before correcting them. He lost his keys - although that was a fairly regular occurrence before he met you. Then, he went to the studio for work, and walked into the wrong room. Finally, he made it where John and Roger were already waiting.
Roger smirked. “Looks like someone got a shag in last night.”
Brian shook his head. “Better.”
“What, you got to do it twice or something?” Roger wondered.
“I think I fell in love last night,” Brian said.
Roger and John exchanged worried glances.
“Look, I know we took the piss out of you yesterday, but you actually think you’re in love with the bookshop girl?” John wondered.
“Y/N,” Brian correcting, recalling fondly how you had said you liked it when he said your name. He liked saying it. Almost as much as he enjoyed hearing you say his.
“You haven’t even known her a day,” Roger reminded him.
“That’s it, though,” Brian insisted. “I feel...this is mad, but I feel like I’ve known her forever. She’s so clever and fun and -”
“Hot?” Roger added.
“Beautiful!” Brian said.
“She must really be amazing in bed,” John joked. “Never seen you like this, Bri.”
“We didn’t have sex,” Brian admitted as he began preparing a cup of tea. “We didn’t even kiss. I mean, I kissed her on the cheek, but nothing more.”
Roger stared at Brian.
“What?” Brian wondered.
“You’re putting salt in your tea,” Roger said with a light laugh. “Are you okay?”
Brian looked at his tea and chuckled. “I don’t think I’ve ever been better.”
Meanwhile, you were having a much more difficult morning. Guilt began to eat away at you for what you were doing. It wasn’t fair to anyone involved, and you told yourself that you couldn’t see Brian anymore. As much as it pained you to think of it. Your attraction to him was too strong and your connection too deep in the short time you had spent together for you to feel confident going forward. Nothing could happen. At least, that’s what you were telling yourself.
You got up early to go to the pet store and pick up a few things you needed for Cat. Then you headed to work, bringing him with you. It would be too long to be away from him to leave him at home. Plus, it would be fun for the children.
Every Wednesday, a class of children from one of the local schools came for a story reading. Obviously, it was only the very young children, and you read them a book of their choosing from the store. You began preparing little snacks for them while a few other customers browsed the shelves.
When the children arrived, they were thrilled to meet Cat, who was surprisingly good with them. He snuggled into their chests and let them hold him. He purred when they scratched his head or his chin. You and the teacher passed out snacks and then you went to your rocking chair in the corner. The kids spread out on a blanket in front of you, quietly eating while you began to read.
About halfway through the story, the bell clinked and you glanced up. There, to your great delight in spite of yourself, stood Brian. You couldn’t stop the wide grin that claimed your face. Your stomach lurched at the smile he returned.
Brian watched you read to the children. You got into it - doing voices for each character, and showing enthusiasm throughout the story. You held the pictures out so they could all see, and they were totally enthralled by you. Almost as much as Brian was.
When the story was over, you told the kids they could sit and play as long as they liked - it was really until the teacher said it was time to go - and you approached Brian. He couldn’t stop smiling at you. You felt the same. Just giddy to be in one another’s presence.
“Hi,” you said sweetly.
“Hello,” he returned. “How are you?”
“Wonderful, now that you’re here,” you told him. “You?”
“Perfect,” he said.
“So, what brings you to the shop?” you asked.
“The manager,” he answered, making you blush and look at the floor.
“Smooth,” you said.
“You set me up wonderfully for it,” he said. “Normally, I’m not that quick. Especially around women.”
You giggled. “Well, is there anything I can interest you in? Book-wise?”
“I wouldn’t mind checking out your science section,” he said.
“Right this way,” you said, taking his hand.
Mentally, you were kicking yourself. Why was it so hard to pull away? All the things you had decided had gone out the window. God, you were absolutely weak for him. And after just one date, too. It wasn’t a date, you scolded yourself. You cleared your throat as you stopped in front of the shelf you were looking for.
“Here,” you said, pulling a book for him. “I thought I recognized the name of the professor you mentioned enjoying so much.”
He took it, impressed. “You really are a very careful listener.”
“Well, it isn’t very difficult when the speaker is so interesting,” you replied.
He blinked at you. “That’s...that’s kind of you to say.”
Your brow furrowed as you looked at him. “What’s the matter?”
“Nothing,” he said, shaking his head. “I just feel very flattered. Normally, I’m so afraid I bore people when I discuss astrophysics, and you remembered this much.”
You placed a hand on his arm.
“You don’t bore me, Brian,” you assured him. You started to smile. “You can talk nerdy to me all day.”
He chuckled. “You’re very kind, Y/N.”
He started to hand the book to you but you shook your head and put your hands behind your back.
“No, that’s for you,” you said. “On the house.”
“You won’t get in trouble for giving it away?” he wondered.
“No, Papa won’t mind,” you said.
“Papa?”
You froze. How could you explain your relationship to Charlie? It was complicated, and the source of your mixed feelings about becoming closer to Brian.
“Charlie Kimball is my godfather,” you said. That was true. “We’ve been very close since my parents passed and so I’ve called him Papa.”
“Oh, wow, I knew you worked for him, but I didn’t realize he was practically family,” he said.
“Ha, yeah, practically,” you said dismissively.
“Freddie knows him better than I do,” he said. “Says Charlie’s one of the nicest men in business.”
“He is,” you agreed. “He’d do anything for his friends and family.”
“I’m glad to hear it,” he said. “So, fancy a drink after work?”
“We close at six,” you returned quickly.
You hoped you didn’t sound too eager.
After a few minutes, Brian had to return to the studio. He bid you farewell with a swift kiss on your cheek and you smiled. You watched him disappear down the street and sighed. What on earth were you doing?
I’m just getting a drink with a new friend, you tried to tell yourself. There’s nothing wrong with that.
Another part of you wanted to remind you that you didn’t normally have such a strong desire to make out with your friends, but you pushed that down. You weren’t doing anything wrong.
Right?
#Brian May#brian may x reader#brian may imagine#brian may x you#Queen#queen imagine#queen x reader#queen x you#roger taylor#John Deacon#bohemian rhapsody#BoRhap#borhap imagine#bohemian rhapsody imagine#gwilym lee#gwilym lee x reader#gwilym lee imagine#gwilym lee x you#beautiful mess series
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More classic movies everyone’s seen but me!
They Live By Night (1948)
Bowie and Keechie are doomed young lovers in Nicholas Ray’s debut as a director. A lot of the tropes will be familiar to film noir fans -- you know Bowie and Keechie will never achieve the normal lives they want, and the movie’s ending feels as fixed and inevitable as Shakespearean tragedy, with avenues of escape closing off one by one. But a few elements set it apart. For one thing, there’s the Depression setting, which offers shabby cabins and dusty plains instead of L.A. clubs and streetscapes, and makes “economic anxiety” a real thing -- Bowie and Keechie’s wedding in particular is a tragicomic masterpiece, with the crooked justice of the peace subtracting elements based on the couple’s budget. The movies also draws power from the chemistry between Farley Granger and Cathy O’Donnell, which feels natural in a very stylized film, sometimes to the point of feeling intimate bordering on uncomfortable. (Howard Da Silva is terrific in a supporting role as the terrifying hood Chicamaw.)
Ray was given free rein as director, and They Live By Night has an experimental air that would prove highly influential, from the tricky opening helicopter shot to an inside-the-car sequence whose legacy you can see in Gun Crazy. Then there’s its rather odd unveiling: The movie was shelved for two years after it was shot, but circulated through private showings in Hollywood and became a favorite, with Granger tapped by Alfred Hitchcock for Rope and Humphrey Bogart offering Ray a lifeline as a director. They Live By Night isn’t a great entry point for film noir newbies, but will be interesting for fans of the genre.
Robert Altman remade this movie as Thieves Like Us, returning to the title of the novel that Ray adapted; that version is also on my list.
Under the Volcano (1984)
John Huston enjoyed tackling supposedly unfilmable projects late in life, following his adaptation of Flannery O’Connor’s Wise Blood with this take on a 1947 novel by Malcolm Lowery. Albert Finney is wonderful as a drunken, self-destructive British diplomat, and there’s an undeniable pull to the movie -- I saw it a couple of weeks ago and can’t quite shake its suffocating mood of mild delirium. But it’s so, so bleak -- before you try it, make sure you’re up for two hours of unease and dread.
Silverado (1985)
I saw Silverado as a teenager, but came back to it recently because as a kid I’d barely seen any westerns and so had no idea what the movie was celebrating or looking to revisit. Seen through more experienced eyes, Silverado is most interesting because it isn’t revisionist at all -- with the exception of a couple of modern tweaks to racial attitudes, it could have been made in the same period as the movies writer/director Lawrence Kasdan is saluting.
Anyway, Kevin Kline and Linda Hunt are wonderful leads, as is Brian Dennehy as the sheriff who’s put his conscience aside, and virtually everybody you remember from mid-80s movies shows up at one point or another. It’s a lot of fun, at least until the movie runs out of steam in the second half and turns into a series of paint-by-numbers gunfights. The final running battle particularly annoyed me: Kasdan has had ample time to show us the layout of the town of Silverado, which would let us think alongside the heroes as they stalk and are stalked through its handful of streets, but his ending is random gags and shootouts, with no sense of place. Stuff just happens until we’re out of stuff.
Compare that with, say, Helm’s Deep in The Two Towers. Peter Jackson takes his time establishing everything from the geography of the fortress to the plan to defend it, and as a result we always know where we are during the battle and what each new development means for the heroes. That kind of planning might have made Silverado a modern classic instead of just a fun diversion.
My Brilliant Career (1979)
Judy Davis stars (opposite an impossibly young Sam Neill) as Sybylla Melvyn, a young Australian woman determined to resist not just her family’s efforts to marry her off but also the inclinations of her own heart. Sybylla is a wonderful character, a luminous, frizzy-haired bull in a china shop of convention, and she’s riveting in every scene. (Neill’s job is to look alternately hapless and patient, which he does well enough -- a fate that’s perfectly fair given the generations upon generations of actresses who have been stuck with the same role.) Extra points for Gillian Armstrong’s direction, which consistently delivers establishing shots you want to linger on without being too showy about them, and for sticking with an ending that, Sybylla-style, bucks movie expectations.
(This is an adaptation of Miles Franklin’s 1901 autobiographical novel, which I now want to read. Franklin also wrote a book called All That Swagger, which is such a great title that I’m happy just thinking about it.)
Red River (1948)
A friend recommended this movie -- the first collaboration between Howard Hawks and John Wayne -- after reading my take on Rio Bravo. And I’m glad he did: Wayne is terrific as Tom Dunson, a hard-driving rancher whose cattle drive to Missouri becomes an obsession that leads him into madness, and he’s evenly matched with Montgomery Clift, who’s his son in all but name.
Dunson begins as the movie’s hero and gradually morphs into its villain, with Wayne letting us see his doubts and regrets and also his inability to acknowledge them and so steer himself back to reality. Clift, making his debut as Matt Garth, is solid in a more conventional role (he looks eerily like Tom Cruise), and Walter Brennan happily chews scenery as Wayne’s sidekick and nagging conscience.
And there’s a lot of scenery to chew -- it’s wonderful to watch the herd in motion, particularly in a shot from over Brennan’s shoulder as the cattle cross a river -- and Hawks brings a palpable sense of dread to the nighttime scenes as things start to go wrong.
I would have liked Red River more if I hadn’t already seen Rio Bravo, though. Brennan plays the exact same role in that movie as he does here, Clift’s character is very similar to Ricky Nelson’s, and Hawks even nicked a melody from Red River to reuse 11 years later. (Hawks was a serial recycler -- he essentially remade Rio Bravo twice.)
A more fundamental problem is that Red River falls apart when Hawks jams Tess Millay into the story. We’re introduced to Tess, played by Joanne Dru, when Clift intervenes to save a wagon train besieged by Apaches, and her nattering at Clift during a gunfight is so annoying that I was hoping an arrow would find its mark and silence her. (She is hit by an arrow, but it only makes her talk more.)
Tess then falls for Clift, who seems mostly befuddled by her interest but blandly acquiesces. This is funny for a number of reasons: Beyond some really dopey staging, Clift’s love interest is pretty clearly a cowboy played by John Ireland and given the unlikely name of Cherry Valance. Their relationship is a bit of gay subtext that wouldn’t need much of a nudge to become text. Tess goes on to annoy Wayne in an endless scene that exists to forklift in a klutzy parallel with the movie’s beginning, and then shows up at the end to derail the climax in an eye-rolling fashion that leaves everyone involved looking mildly embarrassed. (Dru does the best she can; none of this is her fault.)
I was left wondering what on earth had happened, so I read up and discovered that -- a la Suspicion -- the ending was changed, destroying a logical and satisfying outcome penned by Borden Chase. Tess is a hand-wave to bring about that different ending, a bad idea executed so poorly that it wrecks the movie. Give me a few weeks and I’ll happily remember all the things Red River does right, from those soaring vistas to Wayne’s seething march through Abilene. But I’ll also remember how the last reel took an ax to everything that had been built with such care.
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Songs of An Outlander Chapter 13 Plots and Plotters
Fergus is the first to know his grandsire and great-uncle is home. When Brian walks through the door, a toddling Fergus greets him with a loud “ da da da!” Brian smiles broadly and picks him up.
“Well look at you lad. Walking are you? Your grandsire brought you a bobble from Spain.
Claire hurries in. “Da, I am so sorry. He got away from me.”
“Dinna fash Claire. To be greeted by my walking grandson brings me much joy.”
They walk farther in and find Jamie hard at work at the desk in the Great Room. “Working hard I see son.” Jamie jumps up greets his da.
“So glad you are back da, you and Jarrod. Aye I am. We had some trouble here but not to do with the business. It is growing well. We even delivered two cases of wine to the King of France himself.”
“That is wonderful son.”
“I will tell you all about what is happening after I get this one laid down for a nap.” Fergus is fussing in his grandsire’s arms. Jamie takes him a calls for Suzette. She takes the baby, who wasn’t happy to leave the men.
Claire followed them up. She had granted Mary leave to go visit her mum. Her father was away. It was the perfect time and her mum had a man she wished to introduce her daughter to. After what she did for Fergus, Claire and Jamie had no trouble granting her leave.
She holds her son and rocks him. “Wish to her about Snow White. “ His fussing slowed down and he looks up at his mam. “Well, she wakes to the sight of seven dwarfs. Well they were gentlemen and introduced themselves to their houseguest. There was Sneezy, Grumpy, Doc, Sleepy, , Happy, Bashful and Dopey.
“Dopey don’t talk.” Doc told her.
“Why ever not? “Snow White asks.
“Don't know just don't.”
“Well it is time to eat. Go get washed up.” She told them. They were confused. To wash up before Saturday night. But she insisted so they headed outside to do as she asked. Well Doc decides to make it fun so he starts to sing. “Step up to the tub. It ain’t no disgrace just pull up your sleeves and get up in place then scoop up the water and rub it on your face an go blud-die-ud-die-ud-die-ud-die -um-dum.” Claire rubs her face like the dwarfs. Fergus laughs at his mam’s antics. “Meanwhile, the wicked step-mother stands again before the mirror. Again, she asks who is the fairest in the land. Again the mirror replies Snow White. She now knows she is still alive.” She stops when she feels him relax against her, sound asleep. “Okay then. “ She lays her sleeping son down.
“Claire, the lad alright?”
“Yes. He is asleep. “
“We have been invited to meet with the king again.”
“Jamie has filled us in on your troubles and the drama with Prince Charlie and the Duke of Sandringham.” Jerrod says. “I can tell you that King Louis will nor be happy to have another royal running around causing trouble. Nor do I believe James would want his son causing a war to regain his crown.”
“Aye and as for the Duke, without any money, he has no way of influencing anyone. The bigger concern is the two soldiers. Their evil is more concerning then the political games.”
“We are keeping as safe as we can. It is why I am working here. We pray there evil finds them and they end up in the garrison.”
“Well, are goal is to get you and I back to Scotland, with the lass and lad. We need to get the price lifted from your head. Maybe the King of France can help.”
“We can ask when we go see him. I wish to take Fergus with us, Claire. I feel better when the lad is with us.”
“Agree.”
The next day they sit in the king's garden with Fergus. He enters and they bow before him. “James, why didn't you tell me you had a price on your head?”
The two men are whispering again together. “You sent the letter to the king?”
“Yes, I want the man at my disposal. Avaliable fore fun. We can share him.”
“And her?”
“Her you may have fun with.”
“The Duke?”
“We will deal with him. Now come here. I need more fun.”
Behind them, one of the ladies who make their living on the streets, lays broken and bloody.
#my writing#outlander fanfic#jamie and claire#cannon divergence#outlander fandom#songs of an outlander#plots and plotters
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idk if your taking blurb requests but if so pls could u do 5&8
2.1k of something I kinda threw together super quick, I’m sorry if anything seems rushed (masterlist linked in bio)
Warnings: angst, swearing, arguing, car accident, commitment issues(?), loopy reader, teeny tiny bit of fluff
5: “Wake up! Please wake up.”
8: “is that blood?” “....no?”
“Why are you making it into such a big deal, Shawn? I’m sorry that I can’t go, but I have no choice.” You try to keep your voice as calm as you can manage. There’s no use in raising it when your tone is clearly annoyed and you’re sitting in the same vehicle. At least that’s your logic, not so much Shawn’s.
“It’s a big fucking deal because it’s my best friend’s wedding!” He yells. Again, you’re both in the same vehicle, making it incredibly unnecessary.
The wedding of the century, that Shawn forgot to mention when it was announced. Yes, you saw the engagement photos all over social media but there was never a date. Brian has hand delivered the letter to Shawn while they were away on tour, so you had no knowledge of its existence. So when you’re told about it less than a month before the date, yeah you’re kinda fucking pissed.
“I can’t go, I’m sorry. We talked about this already, why are you bringing it up again?”
“I went to your best friend’s wedding and I had to reschedule a bunch of shit to accommodate it into my schedule,” he defends.
“I gave you almost a year in advance to do that and that’s why it worked out. But Brian’s wedding? The one that I just learned about a few days ago, Shawn? I can’t request time off of work! I have absolutely zero vacation hours left, and I can’t just drop my job to go on vacation for a week for a wedding. That’s not how the real world works.”
You’ll admit, your sound raised a notch, but nothing compared to Shawn’s still. He tends to get louder when he knows he’s losing an argument.
“Why can’t you just quit? You don’t have to work, uh hello,” he motions to himself, “problem solved. Put in your two weeks notice and we can go then.” Shawn leaves one of his hands off his steering wheel so he can bite his nails on the other. He knows he’s entered dangerous territory and that nervous habit is a dead giveaway. You two fight about this often and it’s always left unresolved, but you still have your job and it drives him nuts.
“I’m not going to quit my job and leech off of you for the rest of our relationship. That’s not how I wanna do things.”
“You’re not going to be ‘leeching off me’ or whatever nonsense you’re making up,” both of his hands raising to do air quotes around those words in particular. “We’ve talked about you moving in so you can drop the lease on your apartment and hey, newsflash: I want you to move in with me.”
You catch his eyes lurking on you before you turn away. Your heart skips a beat not just because his stare is intense but he’s driving and not paying attention to the road.
“Keep your eyes on the road before you fucking kill us.”
Fighting with Shawn is reasonably your least favorite thing to do. That with his risky driving, on a busy stretch of road may you add, has anxiety rolling off you in waves, causing you to cover your eyes with your hands. You aren’t crying, but you just don’t want to look at him while he’s fuming or see things out the window whipping by the car.
“I’m driving fine, I know how to drive. Don’t tell me what to do,” he snaps. If you hadn’t noticed it before, you definitely notice it now. He’s being a complete asshole for no good reason.
“Don’t tell me that I need to quit my job. It keeps me busy when you’re on tour for months at a time. You’re working and so am I and there’s nothing wrong with that,” you state and take your hands away from your face. There’s still no desire to look out the window so you close your eyes and turn your head towards it. Now you can play with your fingers and still hide your eyes.
“You wouldn’t need to keep busy if you just went on tour with me. There’s a thought.” His aggression is very prominent, but not just in his voice. It’s making the air thick and hot, which in other cases could be the best describing words for something, but this isn’t one of those cases. This case is completely the opposite.
“No, Shawn, I can’t go on tour with you! I can’t move in with you! It’s too fucking early to do those things. Yes, I completely adore you and I can’t see myself without you but that doesn’t mean I’m not scared! Shit could happen and I’m not comfortable with those commitments yet, and you should respect that!” You open your eyes and stare out in front of you. Not yelling? A lost cause. It’s now the only way you feel like he’s going to listen to you and understand your decisions.
“What?” He breathes out, looking at you. You let your eyes catch his for just a second. There’s guilt and sorrow in them, very much in contrast to the flames that were present a few moments prior, and you let yourself get lost in them for a split second
The sound of honking breaks you out of your trance. A flash of red is in front of you before you realize you’re in the middle of the intersection. A sound rips out of your throat, you’re fully meaning to yell Shawn’s name, but aren’t sure if it came out that way. A car is hurtling toward your side of the vehicle and everything feels like it’s in slow motion. Shattered glass flies around Shawn’s car as the seat belt locks against you and your head bangs against your window, causing everything to go completely dark.
—
Shawn wakes up in the ambulance, completely immobile and utterly in pain. His pulse pounding in his ears and every light feels like they’re blinding him. He registers that he has an oxygen mask on and that he’s strapped down from head to toe. There’s an EMT above him squeezing the bag that’s attached to his mask on certain counts.
“He’s conscious,” they mutter. There’s some shuffling around before there’s a light shining directly into his eyes. “Can you hear me?”
He lets out a groan in response. When he comes to a bit more, he remembers you. You were in the car that he crashed and you’re not here with him right now. Shawn’s eyes open wide and the pounding noise becomes louder. God, what if she’s gone.
“She’s okay,” says the person who had previously been shining a light in his eye. “The girl in your car, whoever she is to you, is in the other ambulance and she’s stable. Just keep breathing steady. We’re almost there.”
Many hours go by and Shawn hears not much else and you and it’s driving him up the wall. He’s finished filling out his paperwork and is discharged with a previously dislocated, now adorned in a sling, shoulder, plenty of bruises, cuts to the face and a prescription to pick up. He’s lucky that he came out with so few injuries but he’s insanely worried about you.
A doctor in scrubs walks into the waiting room where Shawn is nervously sitting, silently begging to hear anything. The man in all blue announces your name and before he could finish it, Shawn is on his feet.
“I’m Shawn. That’s my girlfriend,” he stutters. “Is she okay? Where is she?” His words are frantic and jumbled.
“She made it through surgery. Multiple bone fractures in her arm caused by impact from the airbag. Minor concussion and some bruising, but otherwise she’s on the road to recovery. You’ll be able to see her after she wakes up when she gets transported to her room to stay in overnight. You’re welcome to wait there until then, and her parents will probably be arriving around midnight.”
Shawn blinks his eyes, trying to retain every bit of information that he has just received. But one thing pops out, that is that you’re okay. He still feels incredibly guilty but he couldn’t be happier that you’re alive.
So he waits in what’s soon to be your room. The fact that you haven’t woken up yet is making him fearful. ‘Wake up! Please wake up,’ he thinks, hopes, prays and practically begs into the empty room. He doesn’t know what he’d do if he left here without you. Hell, he doesn’t really remember the person he was before he met you. You changed everything in his life for the better. For the best, really. He sleeps easier when you’re around. His friends have told him that he’s happier or even glowing when you’re around. Every part of him wants to be with you, and you’re his first priority and he wants to show you that. He definitely failed to do so today.
His mind wanders to the fight, regretting every second of it. You two could’ve died and the last memory you would’ve had of each other would’ve been you guys fighting. Yes, he’s still upset that you can’t go to Brian’s wedding, but he knows that he waited too long to announce it to you even if he never said it out loud. But the one thing he never was aware of was that you’re afraid of committing, but understandably so. Shawn is constantly gone, and it is a bit early in your relationship. He hates himself for getting so mad at something you can’t control and being an asshole about everything else. If something really bad had happened and his last memory of you two was him starting an argument with you, he would never be able to live with himself.
His thoughts are cut short when a doctor comes in, the same one from beforehand. Shawn scrubs his hand over his face to find dampness on his cheeks. It never occurred to him that he was crying.
“So Shawn, she’s awake. Still a little out of it, but she should recognize you. We’re going to keep her here overnight to make sure everything is running smoothly before she goes home,” he smiles. Shawn lets out a sigh of relief and mutters a weak thank you. He can’t wait to see you in person again and he’s so thankful that you’re okay.
You’re wheeled into the room, eyes half closed but a dopey smile taking over your lips. One of your arms is in what looks like a cast and your face is all scratched up. Shawn’s heart stammers against his chest at the sight of you. Waves of relief crash into him, but he also feels incredibly guilty about what he’s caused. He hurt you in a way that he never deemed possible.
“See, I told you,” you slur at the nurse, “he’s hot.”
Shawn chuckles and tears fill in his eyes. He isn’t too sure why he’s getting emotional again other than he feels so lucky to see you again.
“Yeah, uh huh. You need to get some sleep, honey,” the nurse tells you. “Let me know if either of you need anything.” She leaves the two of you alone and Shawn is still in shock. He did that to you.
“Hi, sweetheart,” he mumbles, tears still threatening to fall once again. Wanting to be able to hold your hand, he moves a chair to your good side and plops down next to the bed.
You kind of just look at him blankly. He doesn’t know if you’re recalling the fight or if you’re just not fully aware of where you are yet. Either way, you still accept his hand when he laces his fingers with yours.
“I’m so sorry,” he whispers, his voice getting caught in his throat. “So, so sorry.”
“S’okay, Shawn. I’m okay, you’re okay. We’re okay.” You’ve seemed to come to a little bit more and he senses a double meaning within your words. Not just that you two are physically okay, but that your relationship is okay as well.
A tear or two slip past his eyelid as he nods his head. He brings your hand up to his lips and leaves a few pecks. Some of his fresh tears hit your hand and you look at him utterly confused.
“Is that blood?”
His brows furrow and he then realizes. You can see the cut on his lip but you can’t see what’s on your hand. A grin spreads across his face because your common sense has been thrown out of the window.
“...no? I’m definitely not crying either,” he jokes. “Just licking your hand.”
“Eww!!” You howl as loud as you can—which isn’t loud at all—with your eyes the widest they’ve been since you’ve come into the room. That’s when he knows that you’re really okay, that you’re both truly okay.
—
permanent taglist: @yourvoiceislikearose @queen-of-sarcasm-bae @moonlightmendes22 @delicaateshaawn @lover-holland (let me know if you want to be added or removed)
#shawn#shawn mendes#shawn mendes blurb#shawn mendes fanfic#shawn mendes fluff#shawn mendes fic#shawn mendes imagine#shawn mendes oneshot#shawn peter raul mendes#shawn mendes writing#shawn x reader#ask#anonymous
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Date? / Queen Headcanons
Request: Headcanons for what each queen member would do to ask reader out?
Ooof it’s been a long time since I did something like this! <3
Roger Taylor
‘Oi, Roger, she’s here!’
‘Shut up, Freddie, the door isn’t soundproof!’
Roger had invited you over on this chill autumn afternoon for a little bit of Halloween celebration, having you (and the boys over as moral support) to carve some pumpkins
Jack o'lanterns line the street. Some appear shocked, others are carved into cute bunny rabbits or puppy dogs. They glow in the Halloween night as greetings to the costumed children who skitter from house to house to rap on the door searching for candy
He would be so nervous when he opened the door, a few red leaves floating down onto his face and splatting him against the mouth as soon as he tries to stutter out an anxious ‘hi’
Once you’re finally in, and all the boys have greeted you with huge hugs before returning to their designated pumpkin carving stations (or corners of the table), Roger would lead you over to your spot, next to him
His hands would constantly brush over your fingers, crinkling the newspaper covering the table, pretending you don’t notice the rising blush that covers his face as he smiles goofily, unable to make eye contact with you
Throwing strewing seeds lightly at his head, John constantly tries to break Roger out of his daydream as he stares at you with a far away look, chopping away at his pumpkin and nearly nicking his finger in the process
Stepping back to admire his handiwork after placing a small tealight into the hollowed centre, Roger asks Brian to switch off the light as Freddie jumps up and down on the spot, hands on Roger’s shoulders in delight
When the lights are off, Roger bites his lip lightly, turning the pumpkin around to face you after you ask him what he designed on it. Stepping next to you, his fingers tenderly and gingerly reach out to entangle with yours as a bright ‘Date?’ glows in the dark
Brian May
The sun emitted wave upon wave of heat from the centre of the pale blue sky that glittered in Brian’s eyes as he lies next to you on the golden sand that extended at a gentle slope, soft dunes tumbling to kiss the briny water.
Each wave was lacy with foam and all the more gentle for the subtle green hues as they crashed onto the shore, tickling your feet like feathers as you squinted up into the sky, allowing the rays to stroke over your face and warm your soul
Brian sits up for a second, raising his hand to his forehead as he watches Freddie run across the sand with Roger in tow, chuckling to himself as he watches Freddie squeal in shock, Roger having come barrelling towards him like a bull and knocking both of them into the freezing water
John stands slightly in front of them with an exasperated look on his face, raising his hand in a thumbs up towards Brian to let him know he had done as he asked
Brian reaches over to tickle your side, his fingertips light against your hips as you giggle lightly, opening your eyes to find him looking down at you with a startled look on his face, embarrassment flushing his face at having been caught staring
He reaches his hand out, his fingers rustling like butterflies as they call you forward, smiling as you place your hand in his whilst asking, ‘do you want to go for a dip, love?’
As he tugs the two of you towards the receding shore, your heart kicks up a notch and it feels like a firework has been dropped into the pit of your stomach as you see ‘y/n, would you go on a date with me?’ traced into the sand
Freddie Mercury
Yawning slightly, your toes scrunch underneath the fluffy cream carpet as you step up, stepping into your favourite warm slippers and wrapping an egg blue dressing gown around your shivering frame, reaching down to pick up a neon pink post it note, an amused hum leaving your throat as you open it. ‘My love for you sparkles as brightly as a starlight night, your face twinkles as brightly as the kitchen _’
You chuckle to yourself, following Freddie’s clue note through the cracked cream doorway of your kitchen, softly humming to yourself as you walk past the clean tea mugs and empty cartons of milk towards the grey steel light hanging above the fruit bowl of the kitchen island. Grinning to yourself, you reach up to pluck another bright yellow post it from the swinging light, unfolding it to reveal another childish clue.
‘On this, my favourite day of the year, the day the infinite sky brought me my true love dear, don’t look for me behind the living room settee, but instead look on the static screen of the _’.
You shake your head softly as you pad into the living room, your arm dropping to your side and mouth gaping open slightly as rose petals flutter slightly against the oak ground like petals floating in the wind, their deep maroon blush reflecting their own cheeks as your feet move without your own will, following the trail out to the open patio doors.
Gripping the cool plastic of the door-frame, your body carries you outside, a hot chill running over your arms as your eyes drink in the sight before you. Glittering fairy lights hang down from the large shaking oak trees like dripping diamonds, their light sparkling gently in the morning sun like falling silver dew drops, balloons tied to the trees in hues of every colour as heaps of bountiful and angelic bouquets form a path leading you down to a beaming Freddie, his breath coming out fast as a wide toothed smile widens upon his face.
Dressed in a black tux, he laughs breathlessly as you accept his intimate embrace before sweeping you off your feet and twirling you tightly into his arms, his expression one akin to complete devotion and contentedness and his eyes are unable to leave yours, his eyes tracing the curves and dips of your face as he sways you two to the symphony of the chirping spring birds dancing on the solid oak branches before finally asking, ‘y/n, we’ve been playing this game for too long, will you please go out with me?’
John Deacon
‘Hello, John, is anyone home? I missed you at the studio so I thought you might be here!’
Stepping into John’s house, clicking the door shut, you wander through the kitchen and living room in confusion, darting your head around each door in your hunt to find John
You had missed seeing his little bouncing perm today, his gentle smile but sassy remarks were a much anticipated part of your day
Finding yourself standing at the entrance to his bedroom door, your eyes find themselves locking onto a small, ornate wooden box that lies half-kicked underneath the cream duvet that drapes haphazardly on the floor, half-open as if he had been in a rush to close it
Not being able to help yourself, your fingers open up the lid, the wood grainy and coarse as you pull out the crumpled pieces of paper
What you don’t expect to find as you open up the sheets, are mountains and mountains of unfinished love letters, beautiful and heartfelt in their poetry, with lines scribbled through and words crossed out harshly without ever being finished
‘To my sweetest y/n, my best friend, you have always owned my heart, my whole soul’
‘How am I supposed to tell you how much I long for you with every fibre of my being??’
‘I suppose it would be best to just admit it now’, John whispers from behind you
Turning around in shock, your mouth opening and closing like a goldfish as John’s face brightens in a dopey smile, John’s hands shake by his side as he continues, ‘Y/n, I’ve been in love with you every day since we first met, will you go out with me?’
#queen#queen band#queen imagine#brian may#roger taylor#john deacon#freddie mercury#brian may imagine#roger taylor imagine#john deacon imagine#freddie mercury imagine#brian may x reader#roger taylor x reader#john deacon x reader#freddie mercury x reader#queen headcanons#brian may headcanons#roger taylor headcanons#john deacon headcanons#freddie mercury headcanons#brian may fluff#roger taylor fluff#john deacon fluff#freddie mercury fluff#joe mazzello#ben hardy#gwilym lee#rami malek#borhap#borhap fanfic
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Better Conversations - Part 7
3.3k words
very special thank you to @rulerofnocountry and @sauveteen for their input and comments on my google doc. they played a very big part in how this came out so they get writing credit. check out their blogs.
Synopsis: Another assistant AU, you’ve known Shawn since the beginning but you don’t really become friends until a label party in New York. Then he offers you a job as his assistant.
It’s sightseeing day and (Y/N) gets an unexpected visitor in the middle of all the fun.
warnings: none, mostly cute
...
It’s still dark when (Y/N) wakes up, surrounded by warmth. Shawn has sort of rolled onto her in the middle of the night. His heavy arm drapes over her body. She carefully craned her neck over to see his leg crossed over her ankles as well. Her nose is dangerously close to his collarbone. Must be hard sleeping alone all the time, she thinks to herself. She knows the feeling well enough, as many times as she’s fallen asleep by herself in her lofty New York apartment.
As nice as it feels to be wrapped up in another person, (Y/N) knows she has to move before he wakes up. She starts with the ankles, slipping out easily. Shawn doesn’t seem to notice. She takes a deep breath and prepares to move his arm. A sudden and sharp inhale from his nose makes her recoil. He says something incoherent and mumbly in his sleep. (Y/N) eases out of his grasp and onto the floor with a soft thud.
She starts moving things around that don’t need to be moved. Nothing about this looks good. Should someone walk in, they’d be a great deal of trouble.
Just her luck, somebody knocks on the door.
“Housekeeping,” says the other side of the door.
(Y/N) closes her robe and cinches her waist. She tiptoes over to the door and opens it. A tiny and very friendly cleaning lady greets her. (Y/N) knows the woman isn’t there to judge her, but it still feels that way.
“Hi, uhm. Could you come back in, like, an hour?”
“Sure, darling,” says the cleaning lady and she pushes her cart further down the hall to the next room. (Y/N) breathes a sigh of relief and shuts the door as quietly as she can.
“Who was that?”
(Y/N) jumps a few inches into the air and slams her body into the door. Shawn takes a cautious step back. “Fuck, Shawn.”
“Sorry,” he says, covering up his laugh. “I didn’t think I’d scare you.”
Shawn turns back around into the room. (Y/N) doesn’t bother trying to stop herself from staring. No one should look so perfect in the morning. He only had on his shorts, and while she’s seen him shirtless many times before now, it feels different now that he’s the only other person in her hotel room. Anything could happen if they both wanted. Not that it will. Or should. But it could. And that's the problem.
“It was housekeeping,” she says, walking past him. “We have to go. I only asked for an hour.”
"Hey, do you remember if I brought my phone in here last night? I can't find it."
"No," she says, tense and on edge. "Why would I remember that? I don't remember anything."
Shawn pauses to look at her. "Are you good?"
"Yeah, great," (Y/N) squeaks. "Never better."
"Okay," he nods. "If you say so."
And then he gives her a smile. The everything-will-be-alright smile. That smile that almost everybody falls in love with. (Y/N) scurries past him into the bathroom, locking it behind her. Her heart races a mile a minute. She doesn't come back out until she hears his door open and close.
…
"Look, (Y/N)," Shawn holds up a zany frog toy and his phone camera, aiming for her on the other side of the room. "It's you."
He was poking fun for her jumpiness earlier today. (Y/N) looks around the old shop they wandered into. She spots a dopey-looking deer plushie among other cute woodland creature toys in a basket. "And this is you."
After an audible laugh, Shawn uploads the video to his story. Seconds later, (Y/N) gets the notification on her phone. Another side of her for the internet to see. Not that she minded. He has a way of catching her off guard and making it look good.
It's been a few hours out and about in Surrey, and Shawn still hasn't said a word about last night. Even in this lovely little trinket shop on the bustling streets of this small English town, (Y/N) couldn't bring herself to think about anything else. It’s become a mental chore rationalizing her feelings each time they grow stronger, wanting so badly to be better than her heart. For a while, she was good at it, and can easily bring herself back down to earth. Other times she just has to sit in the emotions until they fade.
Shawn, of course was asleep when (Y/N) woke up entangled in him. So, he thinks nothing of it and continues to do cute things, like pointing at random objects and saying dumb things like "it's you." He's not thinking that hard about it. He just knows he enjoys being near her.
Fans linger at a safe distance in small, huddled in groups outside just about every establishment they visit. Shawn already stopped to take pictures with the first wave of young girls and women. (Y/N) realizes that this new group is all fresh faces and lets him know. They all screech and wave when she points them out through a window.
"Can you come with me? Sometimes they have gifts."
(Y/N) follows him out to the sidewalk and the excitement grows. A lot of them are recording. Cameras don't bother (Y/N) anymore. Shawn's supporters are more often than not very respectful to her in public. Every time she attempts to stay in the background, they graciously call her name and want to shake her hand and thank her for helping Shawn remember things.
This is a lively bunch today, but they're more than willing to take direction. Roughly three gifts were exchanged, thankfully all small sturdy things in boxes that (Y/N) could store in her tote for the rest of the day. A few hugs and happy tears later, Shawn opts to take a group photo with everyone. He hands (Y/N) a fluffy, blue phone to take the picture.
"Okay guys, say cheese."
The shutter clicks and Shawn stands up. "Everybody say thank you (Y/N)!"
They sound like a preschool class when they say it all together. (Y/N) gives Shawn a stern, but playful look. He bumps his shoulder into hers, grinning from ear to ear.
“You’re all very welcome.”
Jake steps in and politely asks everyone for some space. Shawn is still of course signing things and making light conversation. (Y/N) steps aside to check her phone again for any updates from Andrew or Cez. It’s then that a very small hand taps her on the forearm. She looks down and the smallest little boy that she’s seen so far this tour is standing there, waving at her. Several of his front teeth are missing. Another young girl, probably a teenager rushes to his side.
“I’m sorry, this is my little brother,” she says in a thick English accent. “He just wants a picture.”
“With me?”
The little boy nods eagerly. (Y/N) looks over at Shawn, who is also nodding.
“O-Okay, yeah that’s fine.” (Y/N) kneels down to him, as he’s only about three feet tall. “What’s your name?”
“Georgie,” he says quietly.
“It’s very nice to meet you Georgie, I’m (Y/N). Can I shake your hand?”
Georgie extends his miniature hand and rests it in hers. (Y/N) can see out of the corner of her eye Shawn logging the entire moment onto his phone. Georgie’s big sister takes the picture and she walks him back into the crowd. Just as quickly as he ran up to her, they were gone. (Y/N) stands there, heart swelled and in awe of what just happened. Shawn jogs to her side, still looking back and waving to everyone.
“That was fucking adorable,” he says into her ear.
“I know,” she whispers back. “You got video of it?”
Shawn replays the twenty-two seconds on his screen for her. Georgie is even cuter the second time. And the third.
"I'm going to melt. He's so cute."
The touring party has moved ahead to the end of the street, right at the crosswalk. The band, Brian, Andrew, and Cez were all waiting behind for them to catch up. (Y/N) reaches into her bag for a water bottle just as Shawn starts to ask for one. He gingerly takes it from her hand. She pats him on the back.
“Let’s not keep everybody waiting.”
A few more blocks and they reach 2nd street. There’s less young people around, which allows the adrenaline to wear off. (Y/N) opens the map on her phone to find the next stop.
“We’re coming up on the next place,” she tells Shawn. “I think you’ll like this one.”
“Is it food?”
“Uh, I think it’s close to food— hang on a second, we just ate like and hour ago.”
Shawn shrugs. “I walked it off?”
(Y/N) sighs. “Alright, well there’s a fish and chips place right across the street from it, so you’re in luck.”
Shawn does a mini celebration dance mid-step. (Y/N)'s phone makes a sad little chirp to let her know it’s dying. She closes every app she’s opened since the start of the walk. Before she can press the power button, a call comes in. The number is unknown, but she accepts it anyways. It could be someone important.
“Hello?”
“Hey, beautiful.”
(Y/N) stops walking and her blood gets hot. "Jason?"
Shawn stops too, once he hears the name. (Y/N) eyes meet his eyes briefly, then go back to the sidewalk. She doesn't need him worrying.
"Why are you calling me?"
"I got a surprise for you. Turn around."
She does, but sees no one and nothing out of the ordinary. "What the fuck am I supposed to be seeing, Jason?"
A figure halfway down the street waves at her. His ball cap obscures his face, but she knows those high end slacks anywhere.
"Okay, hang on," she says and hangs up abruptly. She slides the tote off her shoulder. "Shawn take this, I'll be right back."
"You don't have to go talk to him," he assures her. "Let's just keep walking."
"No, I have to. He doesn't know when to quit. I only need a few minutes, maybe five."
"Do you want me to come with you? Or Jake?"
"No. If Jason tries to start something, you'll get in the middle of it and someone will take a picture or video and that's the last thing we need."
Shawn looks for Jason past the sea of tourists. He's actually standing there like he doesn't have all day to wait around. If only (Y/N) would let him join her, he'd feel a lot better about her having to talk to this asshole. The longer he glares, the more motivated his feet are to walk down there himself. But her small hands on his chest pull him back into reality.
"Just go to the record store— surprise it's a record store— then take everyone to the fish and chips spot. I'll be back."
Shawn's face twists into a worried expression. "I really think it's best if Jake goes with you at least."
"Then who’s going to protect you?"
"I've got Brian and we can run if we need to."
(Y/N) looks over at Brian, who kindly salutes her. Jake comes up to take her tote and his place by her side. These men were not about to let her face anyone alone if it can be helped and she is all the more grateful to have them.
"Five minutes," she tells Shawn. "Then call me. If I don't answer, call the cops. I think it's 999 here."
“It’s not gonna come to that.” Shawn squeezes her hand, then looks at Jake, “Don’t let it come to that please.”
“I got her, don’t worry,” says Jake.
Shawn’s hesitant to let go, but he does eventually pry his hands from hers. She starts off in the opposite direction they came, Jake tailing close behind.
(Y/N) checks her emotions, but they seem to be on autopilot. The whole point of quitting the firm was to be as far away from her old life as possible. Jason showing up out of nowhere, unannounced and uninvited ignites a fire in her chest. Every cell in her body trembles so much so that she has to clench her fists just to focus on walking.
Jason’s sat at an outside a small cafe’s dining table when she approaches. “A bodyguard? Seriously?”
“His name is Jake. He’s friendly as long as you are.”
“What took you so long,” he sneers. “New boyfriend wouldn’t let you go so easy?”
“There is nothing between Shawn and me but a professional, working relationship. Wish I could’ve said the same for us.”
“Are you really blaming me for your having to quit?”
“No, Jason.” She sits across from him. “In fact, not everything revolves around you. Other opportunities came and I needed a change of pace. Now I’ve got friends like Jake who have my back and I have theirs.”
“(Y/N) I didn’t come here to make trouble. I simply want to make an offer.”
She folds her arms across her chest. “Give it your best shot.”
“I know this job can’t be paying you that much and you must be homesick. So I pulled some strings and got a position open for you. You’d be making twice as much as you did as my assistant.”
"This position requires that I still work under you though, doesn’t it,” she asks.
“Y-Yes, but it comes with several perks. Perks you didn’t get before.”
(Y/N) rolls her eyes, “Tantalizing.”
Jason sits back in his chair. “Alright, what’s it going to take for you to come back?” There’s an air of desperation in his words.
A wry smile plays on (Y/N)’s lips. “You’re falling apart back there, aren’t you?”
Jason finally shuts up. She glances at his hands, stiff in his lap. He’s nervous, and for the first time in all the hours they spent together, he is truly the one at her mercy. (Y/N) examines him carefully. The severe bags under his eyes. The bitter frown pushing on his laugh lines. The wrinkles in his clothes. He came here on impulse to try and get her back. A less informed person might think it's vulnerable, but anyone who knows Jason is well aware of how few and far between he does for others out of the kindness of his heart. He has an angle, and (Y/N) can't be bothered to figure out what it is.
“Jason, I’m happy where I’m at. No, it’s not six figures, but it’s about more than money for me. I’m done with fighting for my life.”
“Just consider what you’re doing here, (Y/N).”
“I’ve had two months to consider. My mind was made up when I left. You have to know that.”
(Y/N) rises from her seat and turns to leave with Jake. Jason rushes out of his seat and steps in front of her. Jake instantly moves a dense arm between them, glaring at Jason.
“I have to get back to work, Jason,” (Y/N) heaves. “I only asked for five minutes and we have a bit of a walk now.”
“I’m just telling you, you’re making a mistake. You will regret this.”
It's probably the most blatant threat to ever fall out of his mouth and it makes her stomach churn. Still, she doesn’t give him another word or second of her time. Jake leads them away from the cafe. There's no need for her to look back to know that Jason’s fuming. She can feel the heat of his stare burning the back of her neck.
She’s leading Jake after a while, until they find the record store. Shawn’s still milling around in the rock section with Brian and Andrew. (Y/N) taps the window with her fingernails prompting Shawn to look up. His face brightens like a Christmas tree and he bounds to the exit in two large strides. He catches (Y/N) in a bear hug on the steps of the shop, just barely lifting her off the ground.
“Holy shit, you’re okay.”
“You sent Jake with me,” she giggled. “Nothing was going to happen.”
“I was still losing it. Brian had to talk me down a couple times.”
“He turned us around twice,” Brian says over his shoulder.
"That explains why you guys didn't get too far."
Shawn takes her over to the window. It’s probably the coziest corner of the room, leaving very little space between their bodies. He’s practically hunching over to look her in the eye. Passersby on the other side of the windowpane don’t pay them any mind, but (Y/N)’s body is still so hot all over.
“What did he want,” he asks, hushed and mindful of the space they occupied.
“He had a new job offer for me. More money, stuff like that.”
“Oh...”
“I said no, Shawn.” She bites her lip. “You can relax.”
“Oh! I knew that.”
"Yeah, sure you did."
"Hey you two," Andrew says. "Are we eating today or tomorrow?"
(Y/N) makes unnecessary adjustments to her clothes, tucking her shirt further into her shorts. Shawn pushes back his already tidy hair. They each exchange an awkward smile.
"Shall we," she says to him. He files behind her and the party and out of the record store.
The eatery is near full when they happen upon it. It’s a quaint little shop with specific memorabilia all over the walls and a washed out blue color scheme for the old decor. Surrey natives of all kinds are inside. The staff, though a little hard on the outside, are more than amiable. They even help push a couple of tables and chairs over to a booth to seat everybody.
"You know they're being extra nice because you walked in," (Y/N) nudges Shawn. He looks over at the two female cashiers, sending them into a giggling fit.
"You think?"
"Don't play dumb. We've already established how cute you are."
"I know. Just love hearing you say it."
(Y/N) doesn’t fire back with one of her usual quips and slumps back into the booth. Usually, she sat up straight and attentive to everyone else. All the glow and spirit she started the day with seemed to be sucked out of her. Shawn scoots in next to her, hoping to transfer some of his positive energy with mere proximity. If it were up to him, they would have kept walking when Jason showed up, but it wasn't his decision to make for her. Everybody else is preoccupied with much louder conversations at the crowded table. He moves in close, not necessarily facing in her direction, and taps her forearm.
“Are you sure everything’s okay?
She simply bites her lip and nods silently. Jason must have done something wrong or said something wrong. Shawn knows it isn’t any of his business and she clearly doesn’t want to talk about it. On the seat of her chair is her very fidgety hand, picking away at it’s weathered paint job.
He moves his hand down onto his thigh, daring to get so close in the middle of this much company. No one else can see their side of the table as far as he knows. Furthering himself into the gap that separates them, he stops when his pinky finger can link with hers. He gives it a tight squeeze and she returns the pressure. Her face remains expressionless, as if all the emotion has been redirected to her hand. She's okay is what this tells him, but he holds on for the rest of lunch anyway.
...
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#shawn mendes#shawn peter raul mendes#shawn mendes fanfic#shawn mendes fanfiction#shawn mendes writing#shawn mendes imagine#better conversations
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The Difference Between Boys & Girls | o2
summary: Sam & Erin are university students who share a cheap one bedroom apartment above a shitty takeaway restaurant. Due to the limited space, they’ve grown accustomed to sharing just about everything, including the occasional kiss. Despite the amount of time they spend together, their complete comfort in sharing a bed, etc, the pair continues to hold on to the idea that they are completely “platonic.” None of their friends believe this excuse, but as ridiculous as it sounds the unconventional living situation truly does seem to work for them.
Well, it used to anyway..
pairing: Jung Hoseok (Samuel Park) x Named OC characters: meet the cast.
genre: angst, smut, fluff
chapters: o1| o2| o3| o4| o5| o6| o7| o8| o9| 10| 11| 12| 13| 14
warning: boyfriend!hoseok, jealous!hoseok, friends to lovers trope, college au, angst, sexual themes, slow burn, ambw
a/n: i am a fool. I accidentally deleted my blog so this is me re-uploading EVERYTHING.
With her body wrapped in a dress that stopped just a couple inches below her ass, bare shoulders and a sheer cutout in the front Sam was having a hard time keeping his eyes from travelling along the contours of Erin's body.
Originally she planned on wearing just a pair of jeans and a cute top, thus ensuring that she would attract the least amount of attention when they reached their destination. That all changed when Samuel decided he was going to tag along, she didn't mind all eyes being on her as long as he was by her side.
And of course, the surge of confidence she felt after having caught Sam's eyes widen and his mouth drop open slightly when she stepped out of the bedroom may have had something to do with it also. He had managed to settle his features and avert his gaze once Erin joined him for their obligatory pregame shot in the kitchen, making sure to keep his distance like he was drinking with his baby sister and not some woman he'd leer at in a dim nightclub.
His reaction only made Erin stifled a giggle after she allowed the alcohol to ease down her throat. He could play it cool all he wanted, Erin knew she had ruffled his feathers and that alone was almost enough to make their whole night worth it before it even began.
"Aren't you, like...cold? In that dress?" Samuel asked, uttering his first full sentence since they'd left the apartment.
Erin only shook her head and made a small noise to demonstrate her disagreeing.
Samuel scoffed and moved closer as they walked in stride, he knew better than to believe her when she was obviously freezing. He snaked an arm around her waist and pulled her close to his side, the pad of his thumb drumming lightly against her hip. "Like hell you're not."
The touch burned through the flimsy layer of cloth and Erin was sure her cheeks would be flushed if she had any less melanin in her skin.
She couldn't allow her mind to read too much into his actions, however. As far as she knew Samuel had always been a very hands-on kind of guy. If he liked you, you knew because he'd find any excuse in the book to touch you. But there was also the side of his personality that just radiated affection when he was comfortable, the occasional hand grab, hug, caress usually mean nothing more to him than simply being friendly.
Sammy just liked human contact and sometimes it honestly drove Erin nuts.
"I think we're almost there" Erin commented as she glanced down at her cell phone, rereading the address Kim sent her a few hours earlier. "It should be on the left after this intersection."
"This doesn't really look like a good location for a bar" Sam noted as he glanced around their surroundings.
The streets were considerably empty for a Friday night and the few people they did see shuffling around looked like they were auditioning for part in Rent. Definitely not the young hip crowd either of them had been expecting.
Five minutes, and one wrong turn later they figured out exactly why the area seemed so dead.
The 'fun night out' Erin had been invited to turned out to be a gallery showing for a few unknown local artists. The air of excitement deflated the second Erin and Sam entered the building.
Kim was there at the entrance, craning her head back and forth and when she spotted Erin she beamed, and waved wildly. The second she did a quick scan of Erin's attire and noticed the handsome young man attached to her hip, her smile dulled considerably.
"Unnie! You remember my roommate, Samuel?"
Kim extended a hand, a smile way too broad to be genuine plastered on her lips. "Of course! It's a pleasure to see you again."
She was clearly lying since her nostrils were a bit too flared to be sincere. That didn't stop Sammy from grinning widely and taking her hand, bowing slightly to press his lips lightly to the back of her palm. "The pleasure is all mine."
Erin rolled her eyes gently and quirked her eyebrow in his direction, he winked at her and stood up straight again.
"Right. Well Erin I thought the friend you mentioned bringing along was a girl? Since this is a supposed to be a girl's night out."
And you said we would be going out for a drink, I guess we're both liars huh? Erin thought to herself.
"I know, but she couldn't make it and Sammy decided to volunteer to take her place. He might as well be a girl; you'll hardly notice the difference I promise."
Kim looked skeptical. Like she wanted to push the issue further but decided against it. "Alright he can stay but he has to participate like the rest of us."
"Participate, in what?" Sam asked.
"The post night discussion of course!" Kim answered, with more excitement than necessary as she reached down into her purse and dug out a notebook and pen for each of them. "We're all going to take notes on our favourite pieces and discuss them after the viewing, fun right?"
Erin braved a smile since she was used to Kim's concept of fun. Sam, on the other hand, refused to believe that she was serious as he erupted into a fit of laughter. Erin dug her elbow into his side and gave Kim a look of reassurance, "He has a weird sense of humour, we’re going to love this."
Kim nodded slowly and readjusted the strap of her purse "Okay, if you need anything just find me I'll be around" She began backing away "Oh and the drinks are free if you want one" The petite girl added before turning and disappearing into the shallow crowd.
"Homework, E. Seriously?" Sam began complaining not two seconds after Kim was no longer within earshot.
"What happened to Mr. Positive? The drinks are free that's something, right?"
"It's the only reason I'm still standing here"
"Oh come on, you wouldn't abandon your noona. Especially after you asked to tag along" Erin chuckled as she clipped the pen onto the side of her notebook.
"That's because I thought we would be drinking, not analyzing crappy art"
"Listen, I don't wanna do this anymore than you do. I'm way overdressed and I don't even like art. But at least we're here together and we've already been spotted so it's too early to bail anyway. If you want to continue grumbling I won't stop you but grumble on the way to the bar to get us some drinks."
Sam parted his lips to argue, but the resolve in Erin's eye made him second guess that. They could literally argue all night over this and he wasn't about to upset her when she looked that nice. "You're right," He sighed "You want your usual?"
"Yes please," Erin beamed and leaned upward to peck his cheek before he sauntered away in the direction of the bar with a dopey smile.
Suddenly very aware of the fact that she was standing in the middle of the floor alone, Erin quickly moved towards the nearest display of art. She pulled the pen from her notepad and pretended to be interested in the large canvas splattered with various lines and squiggles. Erin was never very appreciative of art even when she could understand the concept.
"Oh my god, this looks like a goddamn finger painting" She muttered underneath her breath.
A bellow of male laughter tickled Erin's ears from behind and almost made her jump out of her skin. She turned and came face to face with an unfamiliar person. His rounded cheeks made him seem young, much too young to be mixed in with this crowd but once Erin allowed her eyes to drift further down from his face she determined that he was probably in her age bracket. His hair was parted through the middle and pushed away from his face, colored a shade that Erin could only describe as neon tangerine and he wore a smile on his face that made the room seem ten shades brighter. He was tall but only by comparison to Erin, he was still a few inches shorter than Sammy so that brought him right to her eye level.
"Sorry, I didn't realise I was talking out loud," Erin said softly, accompanying her words with a slight bow.
"Don't be, you're not lying" He answered, still trying to stop himself from laughing "I'm Brian by the way."
"Erin"
Brian bit into his lip once his laughter subsided and subtly felt Erin up with his eyes. She pretended not to notice and returned her attention to the painting.
"So I guess art isn't really your thing either?"
"I love it actually, but the use of color and composition here is just lazy and uninspired." Brian commented and took a step closer, he was close enough for Erin to catch the scent of his cologne and a tiny shudder ran down the base of her spine. It was small but significant considering the only man that made her feel that way lately was Sammy. "Look at this area right here" He gestured to the far left side of the canvas "To the untrained eye it would probably look like a deliberate splatter of red paint to represent anguish, but I know that this artist just stepped on a tube and left the mark there."
"Mhm.... wait can you repeat that first thing again," Erin said, quickly putting her pen against the notebook and writing down the gist of what his.
"Are you a journalist?" Brian asked, scratching the back of his neck.
"University student, this is just for my.... study group. How do you know so much about this?"
"Because it's my painting and it only took me about five minutes to finish" Brian grinned and turned to face Erin. He was inches away and the coy smile that spread across his lips when their eyes connected made her chortle. Brian wet his bottom lip with his tongue which inadvertently drew Erin's attention there before the sound of someone clearing their throat behind them broke up the staring contest.
"Uh. The line was long, here's your drink. Who is this?" Sammy asked, trying to sound nonchalant.
Erin smiled and took the tumbler of liquid from Samuel "This is Brian, we're making fun of his terrible art. Brian, this is my roommate; Sammy"
Both men nodded toward each other, exchanging a polite handshake before turning their attention back to Erin. Samuel was the first to speak.
"Listen do you really want to stay here all night? The drinks are watered down and I know how much you hate this art crap"
Erin shrugged gently but made a sour face the second she took a sip of her drink, it tasted like cranberry juice mixed with tap water, not vodka.
"Oh gross, let's get out of here before Kim finds me again," She said resting her cup on the nearest flat surface. She was all prepared to sprint out the nearest exit when a hand gently grabbed her upper arm and stopped her in her tracks.
"If you're going to leave can I see your phone before you go?" Brian asked, flirtatious smile still present.
"Why do you need to see my phone?"
"So I can put my number into it"
"Wow, you are subtle!" Erin laughed, taking a second to think of a response. "Ah, what the hell" She sighed and pulled her phone out of her purse, unlocked it and handed it over.
"Oh, what's this? It looks like you're accidentally calling me, that's weird. I guess I'll just have to save your number in my phone as well" Brian mused as his fingers moved over the keypad.
The entire interaction made Sam's lips fall into a flat, disapproving line while Erin giggled like it was the most amusing thing she'd ever seen.
"I hope to see you around sometime, Erin" Brian waved while she and Samuel headed toward the entrance.
"You too"
Instead of going home like Erin thought they would be, she and Samuel ended up at a bar a few blocks down from the warehouse where the gallery viewing was. Kim and all the members of her study group called multiple times but Erin stopped feeling bad about not picking after the first few shots.
Somehow one hour turned into to two and both Sam and Erin were tipsy to say the least they burst out onto the sidewalk, laughing at jokes neither of them were saying out loud.
"Do you know what we should do right now?" Sammy said excitedly, his hands holding onto Erin's shoulders.
"What?"
"Go watch the stars! Like we used to in school... I'm pretty sure there's a park somewhere around here" He muttered to himself but propelled forward anyway, dragging Erin along with him. She allowed him to pull her along as he tried to gain his bearings, she wasn't really ready to go home yet either.
After some trial and error, they managed to find the "park", which was actually just a patch of grass and a small hill but who was complaining?
Sammy motioned for Erin to sit next and she scrunched her nose upward "I don't want my dress to get dirty I'll stand, it's okay."
"Here," He sighed, pulling the jacket he was wearing off his shoulders and laying it down over the grass. "Better princess?"
"Much" Erin grinned as she moved to sit, exhaling a deep breath once she was settled and Sammy's arm found its way behind her. "I can't remember the last time we did this," She said after a beat, glancing up at the illuminated night sky.
"I do. It was the night of my graduation, you rode the bus all the way from Seoul to Daegu just to be there for my ceremony and stayed up with me to watch the stars even though you had a class the next morning." Sammy recalled with fondness in his voice.
"I remember that you begged me for like two hours to sneak out to the beach with you. Then when we actually got there you couldn't stop freaking out about being caught."
"My mother is a very perceptive woman; I still think she noticed me leaving in her sleep!" Sammy retorted and both of them exploded with laughter.
"You made a promise that night too, do you remember that?"
Sam nodded with a smile but didn't saying anything.
"You're just going to make me repeat it by myself?"
"You look so cute when you say it noona"
Erin rolled her eyes, but cleared her throat anyway "I- state your name-"
"Sang-min 'Samuel' Park!"
"-So solemnly swear to live my life to fullest degree of potential and happiness possible from this moment on, recognising that I am no longer a child, but that doesn't I have to turn into a cynical old man. All agreed say aye." Erin was hardly able to finish talking before she gave into the laughter.
"Aye!" Sammy repeated in a squeaky voice and joined Erin in a chorus of giggles and guffaws.
A moment of comfortable silence passed over them once the laughter died down and Erin sighed again, snuggling closer to Sam and leaning backwards on her elbows. "You think you kept your promise? Are you happy, Sam?"
He frowned for a second and shrugged "I'm alright, I've still got you with me so that's good enough for me." He said softly, reaching forward to brush a stray hair out of Erin's eyes and tuck it behind her ear. The tips of his fingers slowly trailed along her jawline as if he was touching her for the first time. When he cupped her jaw in one hand and pulled her face closer his Erin found herself letting him do so.
They had kissed before, games of spin the bottle at high school parties and a few times after having a couple drinks at home. But those could be explained away by a momentary lapse in judgement and raging underdeveloped hormones. This was a deliberate action and Samuel made sure to move at a slow pace to give Erin enough to time to back out if she wanted to.
She didn't want to.
"You looked so good tonight, noona" Sam whispered against the shell of Erin's ear, the bridge of his nose nuzzled against the hollow of Erins cheek and the warmth of his breath fanned over her skin causing heat to spread all over her body. Her breathing grew shallow and her eyes fluttered shut in anticipation, just as his lips barely brushed against her own a loud blaring noise shattered their fairy tale and made them both jump backwards.
"Oh shit, I think that's my phone. Sorry" Erin fumbled around with the clutch in her hands before pulling out her cell phone and preparing to curse out whoever had the misfortune of calling her at that exact moment.
"Hello?" Erin barked into the receiver.
"I- I'm sorry is this not a good time? Were you sleeping?" Brian’s gentle voice momentarily disarmed Erin's annoyance and she shook her head.
"Oh Brian is that you? No... I'm actually not even home yet, Sammy and I stopped for a drink before going home"
"O-oh okay," Brian replied softly, taking a second to think before speaking again "Well maybe you can text me when you home just so I know you're safe."
"I can do that" Erin answered, trying her best to smile even though she noticed the sudden change in Sam's posture, going from relaxed to rigid the second Erin answered the phone. He stood up after she hung up and held out a hand to help her to her feet. After she was standing he leaned down to pick up his jacket and dusted it off before placing it around Erin's shoulders.
"I should get you home."
#jung hoseok#hoseok smut#hoseok scenarios#hobi x oc#bts scenarios#j hope fanfic#j hope smut#dbbg#bngtanah
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