#and I texted the photos to my driving instructor

[glitter-and-be-gay]

absolutely appalling how weak I am for teachers teasing me to this day. devastating

[neonacidtrip]

[image ID: a screenshot of a discord chat with username “wenge (when-gay)’ carrying out a one-sided conversation expressing her reluctance and fears regarding driving at 1:08 a.m. the other person in the conversation’s responses are not shown]

[epicdogymoment]

[ID 1: pictures of a book. At the top of the page is a photo showing a sign, which depicts a man, a woman, and a child running. In all caps, above the sign, "caution" is written, and below the sign, "prohibido" is written. Text reads:

I took this photograph very close to the U.S.-Mexico border, somewhere between San Diego and Tijuana. There was a tear in the fence; I climbed under it and came up close to the highway to get a better shot. When I went back to the place in the fence, I was startled out of my skin by a Border Patrol van that was very slowly driving past. The officer did not see me, however, and I was soon back in the bar next to my motel. While sipping my beer, I imagined a conversation with the border patrol officer who had only narrowly missed catching me.

OFFICER: I saw you photographing that sign. That was good, an excellent idea. What do you think about the sign though?

ME: Mmm. I don't know. It's just that-- this is the first time I saw that sign. In my country, we have family-planning signs with figures like that. Father, mother, kid. The Health Ministry has a slogan painted beneath it, One or Two Kids. Then Stop.

ID 2:

OFFICER: That's very interesting. This is what I like about multiculturalism. You get to learn about cultural difference.

ME: You really think so? Yes, that's great. What can I learn from this sign?

OFFICER: Well, you've gotta get into the semiotics of it, you know what I'm saying?

ME: Uh-huh.

OFFICER: I'll be damned if language is transparent. That's the bottom line here. Just look at that sign-in English it's Caution, but in Spanish, it's Prohibido. You don't think those two words mean the same thing, do you?

ME: I don't know. I don't know Spanish.

OFFICER: Okay, well, I'll be patient with you. The sign in English is for folks who drive. They're being cautioned. Now, the sign in Spanish-

ME: Yes, yes, I see what you're driving at! The Prohibido sign is for the Spanish speaker-

OFFICER: There you go! Bingo! Bull's eye! They don't have the word Caución there. It's plain Prohibited: pure and simple. The picture, the image--it splits, right before your eyes!

ME: The scales have fallen...

OFFICER: Well, but you gotta stay alert. 'Cause culture is a moving thing, meanings change. Or sometimes, just get plain run over. All the time.

ME: Yes, yes.

OFFICER: What work do you do?

ME: I teach English.

OFFICER: No kidding! See, this is America! You teaching English to our kids, I love it. Say, did you ever watch Saturday Night Live when it first came on?

ME: No, I don't think so.

OFFICER: Michael O'Donoghue played a language instructor. He was

ID 3:

teaching this confused immigrant played by John Belushi. You know the sentence that O'Donoghue used to introduce the language?

ME: What was it?

OFFICER: I will feed your fingers to the wolverines. /end ID]

Amitava Kumar, Passport Photos, 2000

[pedropascalsx]

Sooner. {Frankie Morales x F! Reader.}

Summary: Frankie has been your flight instructor for the past eight months and offers to drive you across state lines to your flying test. The only problem is you get to the hotel and there’s only one bed.

Warnings: Some angst, mutual pining, some flirting, friends to lovers, masturbation, accidentally caught masturbation, strong language, oral (f) receiving, fingering, p in v sex. some fluff.

Word count: 3500 exactly.

Authors note: Happy Valentine’s day to my sweet, LJ! I love you to pieces and I hope you enjoy this fic written for you. @prolix-yuy

“Thank you,” you murmur to Frankie as he effortlessly glides onto the freeway, “I’m so nervous that I’d probably crash trying to get to the damn test.”

His warm chuckle floats in the air as he lightly shrugs his shoulders, “Ava is with her Mom this weekend and I always twiddle my thumbs until she’s back. It’ll be nice to be a little distracted.”

“She’s a lucky girl,” you say with a smile, focusing on the photo of them hanging together hanging from his mirror. She is his double. Curly brown hair and big beautiful brown eyes and that very same dimple that makes an appearance when he smiles or gets a little flustered.

“Trust me I’m the lucky one!” He beamed before lightly squeezing your knee, “And you don’t have to be nervous by the way, you’re an incredible pilot and I’d go as far as saying the best student I’ve ever had. I have nothing but faith that you’ll be incredible. You’ve just got to believe in yourself a little more.”

You giggle quietly at his praise before responding with some of your own, whilst attempting to ignore the way your stomach did somersaults at his touch, “Well, the student is only as good as their master. So thank you.”

He hums back as you fiddle with the stereo of his truck, settling on a station blasting some Whitney Houston and you quietly drum your fingers across the smooth plastic of the dashboard. You sit in a quiet silence for the next hour, enjoying the music and watching the day quietly shift into night and taking in the sights of the sunset playing out in front of you.

“Do you want to find somewhere for dinner before we get to the hotel or order room service? Early start tomorrow. So you need a good meal before bed.”

“It’s up to you.” You insist. “You’re driving so you’re in control, Mr. Morales.”

“There’s a diner about ten minutes ahead.” He says with a large smile spreading across his cheeks. “Prepare yourself for the best pancakes you’ll ever have in your life.” The dimple that makes your heart stutter makes an appearance on his cheek and you chide yourself for the feelings that it stirs up in your chest.

God he’s attractive. Like really attractive. When he first greeted you on your first flying lesson you thought you were going to melt right then and there. And over the past 8 months you’ve found yourself slowly growing attached to him. He quickly became your friend and you started to talk and text outside of lessons but you’d suppressed the deeper feelings that you found yourself having for him out of fear they weren’t returned.

“Pancakes sound great,” you eventually responded as you pulled back from the daydream you’d been sucked into.

You glance back over at him. He’s focusing on the road ahead, his aviators resting on the bridge of his nose, that gorgeous dimple still completely visible and the little grin on his face paired with the gorgeous pink skyline making the perfect background makes your heart flutter. You instinctively reach into your pocket and retrieve your cell phone to take a few pictures and he chuckles loudly in response.

“What are you doing?” he asks with a slight twist of his lips.

“You look… nice,” you reply sheepishly, “And it’s about time you updated your facebook picture. The photo of the fish is getting very old, buddy.”

“You been snooping through my pics?” he asks whilst pulling into a spot in front of diner and you feel your cheeks get hot with embarrassment.

“I-uh..” you start to stammer and he laughs again.

“Relax. I’m just teasing. Plus it’s not like I haven’t had a look through yours.” He admits as he pushes open the driver's door.

You swallow hard at his admission and follow him into the small diner, letting him lead you towards a small booth in the back.

“I caught that fish you know,” he announces as he slides across the leather seat, “A catfish. It’s my tag. Back from my military days. My friends still call me it.”

“Really? Why catfish?” You ask with a smile.

“Whiskery beard,” he says whilst rubbing the adorable patches in his beard, “Never finished puberty.”

“I think the existence of your daughter disputes that.” You giggle back and he laughs with you. “So pancakes?”

“Pancakes.”

You sit back and listen to him share some stories about his days in the military. He briefly talks about an event that happened in South America that made him wake up and really sort out his life. And how the death of one of his friends made him realize that he couldn’t spend the rest of his life skating past all the shit he was drowning in and he checked himself into rehab within 48 hours of being home.

He split amicably with his ex and once he was working full-time again, Ava worked in with him and her mom went back to school to finish up her degree. He was doing better than he ever was and you couldn’t help but feel extremely proud of him.

You insisted on paying the cheque which he reluctantly agreed after you argued it was only fair since he drove here. But he insisted that breakfast would be on him in the morning and you rolled your eyes and tutted loudly as you bounced out towards his truck.

“Hotel is roughly an hour from here,” he announces as he switches on the ignition, “And the flight test centre is maybe fifteen minutes from there. Good location.”

“Let’s go,” you say excitedly as your strap on your seatbelt.

He hums along to the radio as he navigates the roads with ease, you can’t help but steal the occasional glance at him. You think back to those first few weeks and how far you’ve come and how grateful that he was the one to get you here. As difficult as it had been, as distracting as he could be, he was the perfect teacher and you truly hoped he’d stay in contact long after your test was complete.

“You’re very quiet,” he says with an inquisitive tone, “Tired? Or are you nervous about tomorrow?”

“Not tired,” you admit, “But yeah, I'm definitely nervous. Just reflecting and thinking about some things.”

“Easier said than done but try not to overthink. I really mean it when I said you’re an incredible pilot. It’s been a pleasure to teach you, sweetheart.”

“Thank you, Frankie.” Your chest feels all warm and fuzzy at the endearment and you remind yourself that he has never once indicated that he sees you more as a friend. Out the window you see that the pink sky has faded into a dark blue and darkness surrounds you on all sides.

Before you realize you’re there Frankie is pulling into the very full parking lot of the hotel and driving into what looks like the only free space.

“Sold out Lady Gaga concert a few miles from here,” you inform him as he raises an eyebrow at the amount of cars around.

He grabs both bags from the back and tuts at you when you try to wrestle yours from him.

*

“But we booked this room months ago,” you say trying to hide the upset in your voice, “I have the confirmation right now.”

“I know,” the receptionist says without a care in the world, “It was double booked. You booked on our website and they booked it on our partner site before we were able to update.”

“So if we booked it first…why isn’t it our room?” Frankie asks before you have a chance.

“We reviewed the booking. They got the two bed suite as there are four of them and two of you. We were able to move you into a smaller room and we will refund the difference to the card it was booked with.”

“Fine,” you say with a reluctant sign, “If sharing one room is okay with you?” You turn to ask Frankie.

“As long as you don’t snore.” He quips back.

The receptionist checks you in and hands you both a keycard before rattling off the fire exits and the number for reception if anything is needed. You follow Frankie into the elevator and let out a sigh.

“We didn’t need any fancy hotel suite,” he says with a shrug, “Shower and sleep. That’s all we’re here for.”

You nod in agreement and exit the elevator, heading straight towards your assigned room.

You swipe the keycard and take a few steps into the room, peering into the bathroom on your immediate left before making your way into the bedroom and you feel your heart stop .

“Only one bed.” He murmurs from behind you.

“I’ll take the couch,” you reply with a sharp nod of your head.

“Like hell you will,” he spits out from behind you, “You’re not going to get a half decent night's sleep on that shitty thing and you need to be

well rested for tomorrow's test. I’ll take the couch and I'll let you pay for breakfast in the morning. No arguments.”

You turn on your heel and roll your eyes at him, “Fine. I’m so sorry, Frankie.”

“Don’t be sorry, sweetheart,” he says with a fleeting touch of your cheek, “It's just one of those things. We’re adults. We can cope with it. Do you mind if I take the first shower?”

“Go for it,” you say as you take your bag from him, “I’m gonna order a few drinks from room service as room temperature water doesn’t appeal to me and switch on the TV.”

“I wouldn’t say no to a Dr Pepper,” he says before disappearing into the bathroom.

“Got it.”

The sound of the shower being switched on makes you groan. You had chosen a suite because the bedrooms were on opposite ends to each other and no matter how hard you try not to be, you almost find yourself extremely affected after being in close proximity to him. So you figure now is your chance.

Arousal had been pooling in your panties since you first climbed into his truck several hours ago. The guilt you felt at needing release with him just a few feet away being beaten out by the aching in your core.

You comfortably place yourself on the centre of the bed and hike your dress up over your hips, dipping your fingers into your panties and dragging some of your slick up towards your clit before circling it gently.

Your mind drifting to the thought of his hands. His large rough and capable hands. Honestly you couldn’t count the amount of times that you’d lost focus in lessons because you’d been so distracted by watching them and wondering if they’d be as skillful in other ways.

You lifted your hips from the bed and quickly removed your panties before going back to rubbing your clit, letting his name quietly fall from your lips as you did so.

*

Frankie switched on the shower letting it heat up as he tidied up his facial hair, clearly up the loose scraggly hairs in his head and trimming his moustache so it didn’t tickle his top lip so much.

He lifted off his shirt and let it fall to the floor before scanning the room for some towels. “Shit,” he murmured as he realized they must be in the bedroom. He forgoed putting his shirt back on and reached for the door handle and turns it slowly, his cheeks burning red at the unexpected sound of you moaning his name as the door cracked opened.

*

“Frankie,” you mewl as the tips of your fingers rub your bundle of nerves a little quicker, your eyes slamming closed as the pleasure builds until you’re almost at the edge.

“Fuck.” Frankie grunts as he watches your slick fingers disappear into your cunt.

You freeze and groan out loud. An apology lingers at the tip of your tongue and before you can croak it out, you feel the bed dip beneath you as he kneels on the bottom.

“You were thinking about me? I heard you moan my name” he says as you slowly open your eyes with your fingers still buried deep inside your pussy.

“Yeah,” you admit before biting down on your lip, “I’m so sor-.”

“Don’t apologize,” he orders before reaching down and pulling your hand away from your pussy, “Only reason I wanted to shower so quickly is because I’ve been half fucking hard all day because of you. Been needing to jerk off so badly.”

Slowly he pushes one of his thick fingers inside of your needy pussy, “So fucking tight,” he snarls as he starts to pump it in and out. “Jesus. The amount of times I’ve fucked my fist after a lesson because you’ve driven me insane, baby.”

You keen and clench down around him at the new endearment, and he lets out a soft chuckle, “You like that huh, baby?” he asks with a grin on his face. “Fuck, can I taste you?”

“Please,” you squeak out a little too quickly and you squeal as he immediately buries his face in pussy. His finger remains inside of you as he licks at your clit, lapping at you like a man starved. Slowly he resumes pumping his finger as he sucks your clit between his lips, doing something magical with his tongue as you writhe underneath.

“Oh, fuck,” you moan, an endless stream of pleasure filled moans echoing around the room before you lose control, “Wanted you since I first saw -ahhh- you.”

He groans into your pussy, and you’re certain you feel his mouth curl up into a smile before he resumes his delicious assault on your bundle of nerves and sliding in a second finger.

“Thought about your hands,” you admit before moaning his name. His fingers start rubbing up something wonderful inside you. It doesn’t take long until he works you up to that edge, your mouth unable to spill any word that isn’t his name up until you choke out that you’re gonna cum and that’s when he decides to increase his already earth shattering efforts and you clamp around his fingers so hard that you’re certain it must hurt.

“So fucking tight,” he grits out against your pussy, his moustache tickling your overstimulated bundle of merced as he does do. Slowly he withdraws his fingers from inside of you and brings them up to his mouth, watching you watch him with wide eyes as he sinks them into his mouth. Sucking them clear of your slick and groaning in delight as he does so.

“Fuck,” you moan as he pulls them out of his mouth, “I want you to fuck me.”

“Yeah,” he asks as he runs his fingers through your slit, “This pretty little pussy all needy for my cock?”

“Please,” you beg as he presses his thumb against your clit and draws a few lazy circles, “I need it.”

“I think you can ask nicer than that, baby.” He teases with a grin.

“Please, Frankie,” you moan as he works your bundle of nerves, “Please give me your cock.”

“Good girl,” he coos as he pulls his thumb away, “You wanna ride me? Bounce up and down on my dick whilst telling me those thoughts you’ve been having about my hands?”

“Yes,” you gasp as he shifts off the bed and starts to undo his pants. Pulling his boxers off at the same time and chuckling at the gasp you let out at the sight of him.

Even he’d admit that he’s impressive, thick, uncut and long. “Take off your dress and come take a ride,” he orders before sitting himself up against the headboard.

You comply immediately, stepping off the bed and ripping off your sundress and freeing yourself of your bra.

You straddle him slowly and he pulls you into a possessive kiss, the taste of you lingering on his mouth as he tongue battles against yours. One of his hands guides your hips and he positions himself so you can sink down onto him.

“Frankie,” you moan as he stretches you open. Slowly you sink down inch by inch. His rich tone fills your ears as he gives you endless praises as you fill yourself with him. His cock throbs inside of you as he stretches out your walls. He waits patiently for you to get accustomed to the size of him, giving you gentle kisses and more praises. You slowly start to move, making sure not to rush the pace. His hands explore your body as you begin to find your rhythm.

“Tell me,” he orders, “Tell me what you were thinking when you should have been listening?”

“Frankie,” you moan as his hand slaps across your ass, “So many -fuck- so many things. I-I wanted to drop to my knees, suck your cock whilst you were in the pilot seat.”

“Yeah? What else?”

“Thought about you slipping those thick fingers into my panties and making me cum as I recited what every button on the panel is for. Thought about you fucking me in hangar before and after every lesson.”

“You should have said something,” he grunts before bringing his hand down on your ass again and moving it across your hip to make you move faster. “If I knew you wanted me too, I would have fucked you ages ago.”

“Didn’t realize you wanted this too,” you admit as he grinds up against that spot inside of you again. “Gonna cum,” you garble as he starts to fuck up inside of you, taking control and making sure to hit that spot everything. Your whole body stiffens as you clamp down around him, pleasure consuming your every sense as you come hard on his cock.

He wastes no time switching the position when you’re coming down from your high, guiding you down on your back and placing your leg over his shoulder so he can fuck into you even deeper.

“Give me one more and then I'll cum,” he grits out as he thrusts in and out of you, his thumb finding your clit again as he does so. “So fucking pretty,” he spits out as he watches you writhe beneath him. “Feel so fucking perfect.”

His pace is hard and fast and like nothing you’ve experienced before, the thickness of him still makes you gasp as he continues splitting you open. “Rub your clit for me,” he orders as he pulls his thumb away and places that hand on your other hip, your finger snakes down your stomach and you play with your bud of pleasure as directed, “Such a good girl,” he grunts out as your walls flutter around his throbbing cock.

“Gonna cum,” you choke out again as your third orgasm threatens to sweep through you, “Frankie,” you manage to mumble as it washes through you. His pace getting even faster and he fucks you through

your orgasm.

“Where?” he snarls as his pace gets a little sloppy.

“IUD. Fill me up,” you beg from under him.

“Yeah? You want me to fill up this perfect pussy? Maybe I’ll do it again in the morning as well. Have my cum dripping out of you during your test.”

“Come for me,” you plead as he continues to shred up inside of you.

You clench around him hard and he lets go with a grunt of your name, you cunt milks him dry with each thrust. His lips capture yours one more time before he pulls out and rolls over next to you.

“That was… wow,” he says with a chuckle before kissing your shoulder gently.

“So much better than just my fingers,” you reply with a giggle.

“God, if I’d have known sooner,” he says before wiping his forehead, “Couldn’t see a girl like you going for a guy like me.”

“What?” you ask completely bewildered, “Frankie, you’re fucking gorgeous. I’ve wanted to fuck you from day one, I’m serious.”

“Probably best that we waited until I’d finished teaching you,” he says after a few minutes of comfortable silence and before getting up.

“Going to switch off the shower, and get something to clean you up with” he says sensing your confusion, “We can shower in the morning.”

He runs the washcloth under the shower before running the rag across his cock, wets the rag again and switches the shower off. You’re still lying patiently as he rounds the bed and he gently runs the cloth through your folds. “Get into bed, baby,” he orders and he throws the cloth onto the dresser, and climbs in beside you.

He wraps his arms around you and pulls you closer, “Thank fuck for double bookings,” he murmurs into your ear and you giggle in response.

Sleep comes quickly and comfortably. More comfortably than it had in a while.

[paterson-blue]

Deep End Distractions; Part 3

Part 1 I Part 2 I Part 3

Summary: As a swim instructor, you meet a lot of parents who are either overly committed to their kid’s lessons or couldn’t care less. You aren’t 100 percent sure where Henry Barber’s father lies on this spectrum, but man, is he hot.

Word Count: 4,984

Warnings: fem! AFAB reader, sexting, naughty photos, flirting, a cute moment with Henry & Charlie, teasing, date time y'all!, some finger-in-mouth action, teensy bit of Daddy!kink (it just jumped in you guys idk), fem! pet names, oral sex (f receiving), fingering, unprotected PIV sex (without chance of pregnancy), creampie oop!— let me know if I need to add anything else!

A/N: this is the last planned installment for this little series. thanks to everyone who's read & commented such lovely things! and big thank you to @paper-n-ashes for her beta expertise.

Prefer AO3? I gotcha!

You wake up the next morning to two text messages from Charlie. Your stomach erupts into butterflies, pulse picking up as you hold your phone to your face to read the notifications.

‘I came so fucking hard thinking of my cock in your sweet cunt.’

You shiver, sliding your thighs together under the covers. The other message is just a photo, one you can’t see very well in the little preview. You open it quick as can be, heart in your throat, and fuck—

He’s smart enough—or maybe, enough of a tease—not to show his face or his cock. Instead, it’s the pale expanse of his torso, from his neck to the trail of hair leading down between his strong thighs. His skin is all shiny, large droplets of cum spattered over it; a sizable amount was pooled on his stomach.

Fuck.

You stare at the photo a little longer than probably necessary. God, it was dirty; he was dirty—you absolutely loved it. Your fingers hover over the keyboard, trying to figure out what to say; there was so much to choose from. You wrestle with yourself before finally starting to type, quickly, so you couldn’t talk yourself out of it.

‘Filthy Mr. Barber. Hope you saved some for me.’

You hit send and promptly abandon your phone, heading to the bathroom to shower. You’d slept into the morning, and you’re considering asking him if he wants to grab lunch sooner rather than later. You wanted him, and at this point it was pretty clear that the two of you were on the same level of desperation.

He’d sent a response by the time you came back into the room, perched on the edge of your bed with a towel wrapped around you. You hold your breath as you read the words on the screen, a little smile pulling at your lips.

‘Oh I’ve got plenty for you, sweetheart. Whenever you want it.’

Sweetheart. Alright, yeah, early lunch it was.

‘What if I want it now? Maybe get some pizza delivered first?’

He answers before you can set your phone back down, and his eagerness makes you preen.

‘Tell me what you want and I’ll order it to my place.’

‘I’ll be over soon.’

______________________________________________________________

You admittedly rush through your routine of getting ready, and not just because of the way your stomach was growling. You keep looking at the photo he sent you, your mouth fucking watering at the image. He was unfair. You grab a couple essentials before rushing out the door, deciding you might as well have some toiletries in the car--you know, just in case. You weren’t expecting anything other than a meal and what you’re sure will be an amazing fuck, but there was no harm in being prepared for otherwise.

The drive to his apartment feels like it takes ages, especially with the constant start and stop of Saturday afternoon traffic. You drum your fingers on the steering wheel, taking quick little looks over at the passenger seat, remembering everything that happened last night. It makes you fidget, nerves alight in your stomach. Shit, you needed to take a breath, to calm down--this was Charlie. There was no need for you to feel so… antsy. You knew him enough to feel comfortable, to feel secure with what you were doing, hook-up or not.

You pull yourself together in your car, sitting outside his apartment complex. He’s sent you the flat number, and you search the front of each unit as you walk down the shared sidewalk in the middle of the complex. Charlie pulls open his door the second you knock, and oh, he looks hungry.

“Hey,” he breathes, dark eyes sweeping over you. He’s wearing jeans and a loose burgundy colored sweater that accentuates his pale skin, even with the light tan he’s managed to acquire with his weekly swim sessions. He’s barefoot, clearly comfortable in his own space; you aren’t sure why that’s so endearing.

“Hi there,” you answer, stepping through the doorway as he moves to let you in. You study your surroundings curiously, looking around at his belongings. The living room was cozy, with a large couch and two oversized armchairs, plants sat around and framed pieces of art on the walls. You can see into the kitchen and dining area, and spot two large pizza boxes sitting on the table. “I see I got here just in time.”

Charlie chuckles, nods, spurred into motion from where he’d been frozen at the door. “Arrived just before you did. Make yourself at home. Would you like anything to drink?” He brushes a large hand over your back as he walks past you, his touch lingering a moment too long, the two of you sharing a heated gaze. Christ, how were you going to last through a meal with him like this?

You ask for some water, following him into the kitchen after kicking off your own shoes and abandoning your bag on the coffee table. He moves around fluidly in the small space, grabbing glasses and plates and napkins. Your gaze trails over his form, admiring the way the material of his sweater drapes over his back, the way the denim of his jeans clings to his thighs. You were used to seeing him in either loose slacks or swim shorts—this was a happy medium between the two.

“You look nice,” you say, because you can. Charlie gives you a look, scoffing at your words even as his cheeks flush a pretty pink color, accentuating the freckles and moles that dotted his handsome face. He was pleased at your compliment, even if he wouldn’t say it.

It only takes Charlie a couple of his long strides to place the dishware on his dining room table and then come back to you, cornering you where you’re leaning against the countertop. “You look nice, too,” he murmurs, caging you within with his arms, voice low.

You grin up at him, reaching to fiddle with the hem of his sweater. “Do I? That’s good. I was a bit distracted while getting ready—kept stopping to look at a picture on my phone.”

Charlie’s eyes go dark, and he leans in closer, a smirk pulling at his lips. “Yeah? You liked it?”

You nod, arching against him slightly. His gaze falls to your lips, your chest, and back up again. “I really liked it. Thought about getting off to it but decided to wait for the real thing,” you hum, trying to sound casual despite your racing heart. The two of you were walking a fine line, each trying to gain a minuscule amount of power over the other—though, honestly, you just liked pushing his buttons.

One of Charlie’s large hands comes up, settling against your neck, his thumb and index finger notching under your jaw to tilt your head up exactly where he wants it. You swallow hard under the slight pressure of his palm, and he makes a contented sound in the back of his throat. Your hand comes up to grip his wrist, and for a split second his hold on you falters, his dark brows knitting in concern—it lets you know that he’ll stop the instant you voice any discomfort.

You just pull him closer, wanting more of that delicious pressure. Charlie groans, cursing under his breath, and suddenly he’s surprising you by crashing his mouth down onto yours. It’s not soft—it’s desperate, biting, his other hand coming up to cradle the back of your head. Christ, his hands were so fucking big, holding you in place so he can use your mouth the way he needs. It makes you think of how easily he could use you like this between his legs, hold you still while he fucks your throat.

Fuck, you want it.

His eyes are blazing when he pulls away, his plush lips all red and puffy. He grips your chin in his hand, the large pad of his thumb rubbing against your bottom lip. “Knew you had a perfect mouth,” he mumbles, pushing his thumb further; you take it, letting him press against your tongue. You wrap your lips around the base, hollowing your cheeks to suck, looking up at him the whole time. He’s got his mouth hanging open, face flushed. “Fucking tease,” he grits out through his teeth, voice betraying the tiniest bit of a tremble.

You just hum, blinking up at him; he tugs his thumb from your mouth, smearing your spit over your lips. “I promised you a date. So we’re going to sit and eat. And then I’m going to fuck you over the table.”

His words go straight between your legs, and you dip your hands under his sweater and the t-shirt beneath, needing to feel his bare skin. “You promise?” you ask with a pout, and Charlie huffs, shaking his head at you good naturedly.

“You’re going to kill me,” he tells you, finally stepping away so the two of you can breathe. You frown at the lack of contact, but at the same time, your stomach growls. Maybe having a bite or two would do you some good. With the way he was looking at you, you think you’ll need your strength.

You sit across from one another, gazes heavy, the air heady. Your underwear is fucking soaked, you can feel it when you sit down. You squirm in your seat, biting your lip as you serve yourself some pizza—the way Charlie’s white-knuckling his glass of water tells you that he knows exactly what you’re doing. You give him an innocent smile, even going so far as to flutter your eyelashes. “What?”

Charlie just huffs before taking a giant bite of his chosen slice, watching you thoughtfully. After a moment you feel a little nudge on the side of your foot, and you can’t stop the smile that spreads over your face. He scrunches his toes against yours, and you laugh. “Footsies? Really?”

Charlie just shrugs in response, grinning as he takes another bite. You shake your head at him, nudging his foot back, the potent need for one another fading into a nice sort of buzz. It was still there, and you knew it could easily be plucked back into the forefront of your minds, but it was toned down enough that the two of you could actually enjoy being together like this.

You talk while you eat—about everything and nothing all at once. It’s easy to talk to him. You already knew as much, but you’d been a bit worried things would be different in this particular setting. That maybe the pressure or the expectation of a date might change the dynamic between the two of you. And it had, but not in the way you’d feared. It was a welcome relief.

He’s in the middle of telling you he’s decided to go ahead with the theater deal when his phone starts buzzing on the tabletop. He makes no move to pick it up, only glancing at it briefly, but then a frown settles between his brows. “Sorry—hold on—“ He sets his slice of pizza down on the plate in front of him, reaching for the phone. “Henry’s iPad is FaceTiming me.”

He wipes his mouth before answering, brows arching when the call connects. “I thought you were doing homework.” His tone is schooled into something calm and even—his “Dad” voice, apparently. You haven’t noticed it before, but now it makes you smile. You make sure to stay silent and out of sight, listening for Henry’s familiar lilt to come through.

“I was but I finished, and Mom said I could have my games back.”

“If I call Mom, is she going to say the same thing?”

“Yes, dad.”

Charlie’s lips quirk up in a smile, and he chuckles at his son’s exasperation. “Alright, alright, I believe you.” There’s a pause, and you watch Charlie make a funny face at the screen. Henry giggles, then speaks again.

“What’re you doing?”

“Iiiii’mmm eating lunch,” Charlie answers, stretching out the words. His brown eyes flicker up at you, expression warm and fond. It makes you feel all gooey inside. Henry is—thankfully—oblivious to it all.

“What are you eating?”

“Pizza.”

Henry sighs at his dad’s response, sounding mournful. “Does the pizza have meat on it?”

Charlie huffs out a laugh, leaning back in his chair. It seems like he knows where this line of questioning is going. “Yes it does.”

“Mom won’t let me get meat on our pizza.” Henry sounds petulant; Charlie’s voice is kind and patient.

“Mom’s vegetarian, honey, she can’t have meat.”

“Well I hate vegetarian.” Henry states, resolute. You try to hide your smile in your glass, sipping at your water so you won’t laugh.

Charlie gives the phone screen a look, but doesn’t take the bait. Instead, he changes the subject. “What are you and Mom having for lunch?”

“Spaghetti.”

“That sounds good. I like Mom’s spaghetti.” There’s the tiniest hint of melancholy in Charlie’s voice. Henry doesn’t notice it, going on about his day. Charlie takes it all in with genuine interest: wants to know how his homework went, what his friends are up to, where he’s going with his cousins tomorrow, what book Nicole is reading to him this week.

Part of you feels like you shouldn’t be intruding on their personal conversation, but you were already there, and you couldn’t exactly get up and leave. At least, not very discreetly. Charlie keeps shooting you looks that are almost apologetic, and you try to tell him with your own looks to stop that shit. He doesn’t ever need to apologize for caring for his son.

Still, Charlie winces after Henry hangs up, making eyes at you as he sets down his phone. “Sorry. I guess that sort of killed the mood, huh?”

You roll your eyes, giving him a (gentle) kick under the table. “Don’t apologize—Henry comes first, as he should. And no, it didn’t kill the mood.” Charlie gives you a look as if he doesn’t believe you, and you stare him down. When you speak again you choose your words wisely, your tone dipping down into something akin to a purr. “Why wouldn’t I like knowing you’re a good daddy?”

Charlie freezes in place, staring back at you, and maybe you’d be worried that you’ve said the wrong thing if it wasn’t for the way his eyes go all wide and dark. You don’t even think he’s breathing.

Hook, line, and sinker.

His jaw works, and it takes him a while to respond. When he does, his tone is dark and clipped. “Alright.” He stands slowly, taking his time collecting the leftovers and dirty dishes from the table. You watch each and every deliberate movement, not daring to follow as he deposits everything in the kitchen. When he returns, he has a damp tea towel in his hands; you stand so he can wipe down the tabletop.

He’s chewing on the inside of his cheek, as if nervous, or perhaps just figuring out where to go from here. Straightening back up, he catches your eye, and you see him reach some sort of resolution. He tosses the towel in the direction of the kitchen—it lands haphazardly on the countertop—before stalking towards you.

“Was it a good first date?” Charlie asks, voice low as his hands reach for your wrists, pulling you towards him. You go willingly, pressing close to him, and he lets you—lets you duck your hands under his shirts to touch his bare skin. His eyelids flutter shut for the briefest of moments as he savors the feeling, his palms smoothing up your arms to settle high on your shoulders where he can rub the sides of your neck with his thumbs.

He was so handsome. And he was all yours—at least, for right now.

“Oh, so the date is over now?” you tease, sliding your hands over his torso and up his back. You trail your nails back down and Charlie groans, the noise unabashed. You want to hear more.

His eyes open up to look down at you, and he moves one of his hands up to take your jaw in a soft but steady grip, his thumb on your chin. “Did you like it?” he asks, quiet. You nod, anticipation building in your stomach—you think maybe it’s been building for weeks now. He nods back at you, murmuring “good,” before he leans in to slot his mouth over yours.

He kisses you firmly, his large nose pressing against your cheekbone as his plush lips suck at yours. Charlie’s kisses are insistent but not frantic—he takes his time, like he knows you’re his to do with what he wants. He doesn’t need to rush; he can explore your mouth, swallow down your noises, savor your taste.

His grip on your jaw tightens minutely when he pulls away to trace the tip of his nose along the side of your face. “You want daddy to fuck you?”

It’s little more than a breath against your ear and his teeth graze over your earlobe, teasing. You knew your earlier words would come back to bite you in the ass but fuck, hearing him say it, you feel lightheaded. You nod quickly, and Charlie chuckles. “Bend over the table, then, honey.”

You scramble to do as he says, draping yourself over the freshly cleaned wooden surface, holding on to whatever you can reach. When Charlie’s fingertips brush over your ass you jump, still somehow startled even though you were anticipating his touch. He smooths one large hand over your flank, as if to calm you.

“… You’ll tell me if I do something you don’t like, right?” he asks quietly from behind you, his tone gentle as he slowly pulls the bottom of your dress up, exposing you to him. “Any time you want to stop or change something, just let me know and I’ll do it.” Sweet, lovely Charlie, so concerned about you. It’d be even more endearing if you weren’t currently eager for him to fuck you six ways from Sunday.

“Yes, yes, yeah—I will, I swear.” You wriggle your hips back against him and he laughs, the sound settling all soft and warm in your head.

“Don’t be greedy,” he chides, hooking his fingers into your underwear and tugging them down your legs. He helps you step out of them before he’s pulling your thighs apart, settling a hand on your lower back and pushing you to arch more for him—presenting yourself for him. “I’m going to give you everything you want.” The words are murmured, and you shiver, wanting to squeeze your thighs together for some sort of relief but not daring to.

There’s silence, and then a dull thud. You don’t realize it’s Charlie’s knees making contact with the linoleum floor until he’s yanking your hips back and onto his face. You let out a little yelp, mouth agape as his large hands spread you open for him to press his tongue through your folds. He moans at the first taste of you—pulls you closer like he can’t get enough. Fuck, you wish you could see him like this.

“So fucking wet,” he mumbles against your pussy, and you aren’t sure if he’s talking to himself or god or what—honestly, you’re not even sure how he’s breathing with how tightly he’s holding you, but you can’t bring it within yourself to care. Especially not when he adjusts just slightly, and suddenly he’s licking at your clit with his nose pressed inside of you.

It’s just a tease, really; the knowledge of it is probably making you more dizzy than the actual sensation. But oh fuck, that nose, that nose, that beautiful fucking nose—if you’d known he’d do this you might’ve jumped his bones a lot sooner. “Shit, Charlie, yes—“ you whimper, cheek already smushed against the tabletop.

When he pulls away you mourn the loss as well as the position you’re in; you want to see his pretty face decorated in your slick. But then he’s pressing one long, thick finger into you and you’re keening, already clenching around it as he pumps the digit in and out.

“Fuck, look at you. Perfect little pussy just for me. I’ve wanted you for so fucking long, you know that?” he talks as he fingers you open, rambling, breathless as his free hand palms your ass. “First second I saw you, you were so fucking pissed at me, so gorgeous. Thought you were going to yell at me right there in front of everyone and just the thought got me so hot.”

You let out a shuddering breath as his scissors two of his fingers inside of you; you arch up onto your tiptoes, angling yourself towards him, wanting more. He twists his fingers, curling them in search of the place that will make you whine for him. He finds it much too easily to be fair.

“Never thought you’d want me,” he continues, sounding strained. His free hand disappears from your skin for a moment and you hear fabric rustling, the clink of his belt, the soft sound of a zipper. Your heart rate speeds up in anticipation, but after a moment his hand returns to your hip as if nothing has happened. You wonder what he’d do if you fidgeted, turned around to get a good look at his cock.

“I want you,” you say, trying to make a show of it as you clench purposefully around his fingers. “Please, Charlie, I’m ready—I can take it.”

He curses under his breath, hesitates, but then apparently decides to believe you because he tugs his fingers out of you. There’s some more shuffling, and Charlie lets out a soft, shuddering breath. “Condom?” he asks, all quiet, and you reach out behind you blindly, trying to make contact with any part of him that you can.

“No, no, I’m fine, it’s fine—come on.”

Your hand comes in contact with one of his massive thighs, and you hum happily, rubbing your fingertips against his bare skin. He steps closer and suddenly his cock is right there, pressing all hot and urgent against your cunt. Your pussy squeezes around nothing and you sigh in frustration.

“Easy, honey. Be patient.” His voice is low and level, much like the calming voice he’d used for Henry earlier; it makes you squirm. The thick head of his cock slowly smears through your folds, back and forth, back and forth. Charlie lets out a soft groan, one of his large hands settling onto your hip to hold you steady. He makes no move to press into you, the fucking tease—he seems content just pressing himself against your cunt, between your thighs.

“You hear that? Hmm? Hear how wet you are for me?” His voice is little more than a purr, all quiet so you can listen to the slick, sticky noises your pussy is making. You feel your face flush, and you tense up a bit, nearly embarrassed. Charlie tuts, landing a sharp slap to your ass that makes you gasp. He palms over the sting, leaning over you to nuzzle against your ear. Fuck, he still had all his clothes on.

“No hiding, not from me. Let me in, sweet girl.” His breath is hot against your skin, there for a moment before his body heat disappears again as he straightens back up. There’s a moment where you’re holding your breath, and then he’s slamming into you, splitting you open all at once. All your breath leaves you at once in a cry, and you scrabble at the tabletop to find some way to anchor yourself.

“Fuck,” Charlie grunts out, his hands gripping your hips hard, holding you onto his cock. You take a couple shuddering breaths, closing your eyes as you adjust to his size. Shit, he was huge, you could feel him in your fucking stomach. His cock was a delicious ache filling you, and you can’t help but squeeze your pussy around him, like you want him deeper.

“Jesus Christ,” he curses, voice hoarse, and he shoves your dress further up your back so he can arch himself down and press a kiss to the middle of your back. He trails his kisses upwards until he’s draped over you again, pressing his nose to the side of your face. “You okay?” His question is murmured to you, shaky and almost timid.

You reach up blindly to brush your palm over the back of his head as you nod. “S’good, Charlie, fuck, you’re so big. Need you to fuck me, please—please.” Your fingers tangle in the ends of his hair, tugging lightly, needing him to move.

Charlie hums, the sound dark and pleased. He starts moving his hips torturously slow, the drag of his cock inside you making you whine. “You need it, do you?” His voice rumbles in his chest, vibrates against your back. “Like this? Or more?”

You want to scream; want to shove him back onto the floor and ride him into oblivion, to take what you need without his teasing. But you swallow back the urge, fumbling for the words he’s searching for. “More. More, please, Charlie. Harder.”

His hips snap forward and your eyes roll back in your head, mouth falling open as you keen for him. He presses kisses over your jaw, sliding a hand up and around your neck, pulling you up just a little so he can press his lips to yours. His palm presses deliciously against your throat and you moan into his mouth, kissing him hot and hurried.

“Mmm, fuck, you taste good. Feel even better.” Charlie nips at your bottom lip before arching up just a little to get better leverage, hand still around your throat. “Such a wet, sloppy pussy, just for me, yeah?” Yes, you chant, yes, yes, yes, yours. And then he’s fucking you in earnest, holding you steady by your neck and hip as he pounds you into the tabletop.

You think you’re probably drooling onto the freshly cleaned wooden surface but you don’t care. All you can do is focus on the feeling of his cock in you, the smack of his hips against your ass, the squelch of your pussy. You’ve got wetness dripping down your thighs; his balls keep slapping against them with each of his powerful thrusts. You know you’d be sliding up the table if he wasn’t holding you down so tightly.

Have you ever been fucked so good? If you have, you can’t remember. There’s nothing in your head but him. Charlie. Charlie, Charlie, Charlie. You think maybe you’re saying his name out loud but you’re so out of it you don’t know for sure. He says your name back to you in a ragged breath, groaning afterwards as if the very word went straight to his cock.

“Next time—“ he pants, leaning back over you to snarl into your ear, “-next time I’m stripping that fucking dress off of you so I can see your pretty tits, have them in my hands.” One of his giant hands paws at your breasts, squeezing over your clothes to accentuate his words. The sensation makes you clench around him hard, and he fucking growls.

“Fuck, honey, you feel amazing--” His voice breaks and there’s a pause, his hips grinding into you. Charlie lets out a hoarse laugh, pressing his forehead to your shoulder. “You’re gonna make me cum.” The words make you moan, and you nod, fumbling for any part of him you can touch. The thought of him cumming in you, because of you--fuck, it’s all you want.

“Give it to me, Charlie, I need it,” you encourage him, arching your back slightly. He groans, hips stuttering, and you smile, breathless. “C’mon, baby. You wanna cum in me, don’t you? You wanna show me who I belong to--wanna fill me till I’m dripping.” You’re not fully conscious of the words you’re saying, not with your head spinning the way it was, but they seem to do the trick because Charlie shudders and yanks you back against him.

He sets a brutal pace, chasing his own pleasure now that he has permission. He’s fucking impossible noises out of you, ones you aren’t sure you’ve heard yourself make before. It's nearly animalistic, his pace, his grunts, his hands on you.

You love it. You fucking love it.

“Gonna cum--you’re gonna be so fucking full of me, fuck!” His hand moves from your throat to slam beside your head, his long fingers stretching to grip the edge of the table until his knuckles turn white. “Gonna f-fill you up and then l-lick it out of you, eat you till you cum all over my face,” he grits out between his teeth, sucking in a strangled gasp--and then he’s slamming his hips into you once more as he cums, filling you with warmth.

Charlie lets out a shaky moan, trembling as he slumps on top of you, chest heaving. You’re still on edge, but you know--you know--he’ll take good care of you, just like he promised. And he does. Because as soon as he’s caught his breath, as soon as he’s planted a kiss to the back of your neck, he’s helping you to the couch and falling onto his knees in front of you.

“Spread those legs, honey, let me see you.” You do as he asks, reaching out to run your fingers through his damp hair. His eyes are dark as he admires your pussy; as if on cue, you clench, and you feel his cum drip out of you. Charlie lets out a quivering breath, licks over his bottom lip. “Oh, you’re perfect, you sweet girl. Let’s see how many orgasms you have for me, hmm?” And with that, he’s pressing his face back between your legs.

______________________________________________________________

taglist friends!

@paper-n-ashes @glassbxttless @mariesackler @millenialcatlady @peachyproserpina @barbers-glimmerin-darlin @leatherboundbirate @jynzandtonic @cornmousequeen @icarusinthesea @heartofjakku

[perfectlywrongformend3s]

Driver’s License- Joshua Bassett

A/n: Liv's album is amazing, and before you comment anything. I know I'm super late since the album came out a while ago. But it's so good, so if you listen to it, tell me in the comments your favorite songs.

Song: Driver's License

Writer: Olivia Rodrigo

  -Samantha

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

'' I got my driver's license last week, ust like we always talked about, 'Cause you were so excited for me, To finally drive up to your house, But today, I drove through the suburbs, Crying 'cause you weren't around.'

I was sitting in the DMV waiting to be called to take my turn on the road. I felt my leg start to shake from being nervous. I heard a ding coming from my phone and saw Josh texted me telling me that everything would be okay. I smiled at him and before I could text him back I heard my name being called.

" Y/n Y/l/n!"

I took a deep breath before heading off with the lady that was taking me for my test.

Joshua's POV

I was on set hanging out with the cast when I remembered that Y/n/n was taking her test today. I grabbed my phone and sent a quick text to her before I put my phone back into my pocket. I started walking over to the set I was supposed to be at and I felt my phone ding. I quickly grabbed it thinking it was Y/n/n, but saw it was from Sabrina. I felt myself smile and told her I would meet her at the cafe after work.

Your POV I was doing my last task for my test which was parking. I pulled into the parking lot and looked for one and pulled into the spot. When I knew I was straight I put the car into park.

" Well, Miss. Y/l/n, it looks like you have..." the instructor said, I took a deep breath and waited for her to say it. She looked at me. " You passed! Congrats sweetie."

I let out a breath of relief. " Thank you so much." I told her while getting out of the car. She smiled and led me into the building to get my licenses.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I parked my car and ran excitedly to my apartment that Josh and I share. When I got in the door I yelled....

" JOSH!"

I tried looking for him until I decided to call my best friend Olivia.

" Hey Y/n/n." She said

" Hey Liv!" I shouted

I heard her giggling through the phone. " What's up?" She questioned

" Is Josh still on set? I could have sworn he would be home by now." I asked

Liv sighed " Yea, we got out a while ago."

" Okay. Thanks, Liv." I said

" Welcome. Anyway, you sounded super excited when you called me. What are you so excited about?" She questioned

I let out a laugh and told her... " Okay! I just got my driver's license. I can drive legally by myself now."

She screamed which made me scream in excitement.

" Omg! Congrats girl." Liv shouted

" Thanks again." I said laughing

" Oh, I have a new song coming out tomorrow!" She said

" What!" I shouted

She then went on to explain to me about the song.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

' And you're probably with that blonde girl, Who always made me doubt, She's so much older than me, She's everything I'm insecure about, Yeah, today, I drove through the suburbs, 'Cause how could I ever love someone else?'

It has been about a week since Liv's song and the Josh thing. I was sitting in the living room going through my instagram when a photo caught my eye. It was a photo of Josh and Sabrina looking a little too close. Before I started assuming anything I wanted to know his side of the story.

" Josh?" I asked

Joshua's POV

I was texting with Sabrina when I heard Y/n call me.

" Yea?" I questioned

I sighed when I didn't get a respondes, so I walked out to the living room where she was. I sat next to her and before I opened my mouth she showed me a picture. I tried not to show her how much I was panicking.

" I can explain." I said

She sighed and nodded. I took a deep breath and started explaining...

" I was on a break at the set when I texted you good luck for your test when Sabrina texted me. She wanted to know if I wanted to hang and talk about a song..."

I kept going on about it until I felt her lips on mine. I was shocked, but kissed back.

" Just promise me you're not lying to me?" She whispered

'' I'm not lying Y/n/n." I told her

She held out her pinky and said... " pinky promise."

I linked my much larger pinky with her smaller one. She then wrapped her arms around my torso which made me automatically wrap my arms around her waist.

Your POV ' And all my friends are tired of hearing how much I miss you, but, I kinda feel sorry for them, 'Cause they'll never know you the way that I do,Yeah, today I drove through the suburbs, And pictured I was driving home to you.'

I was over at Liv's house with the girls. I was trying to keep the comments I have about Josh, but they kept coming out. I was in the middle of telling them something, but stopped due to tears falling. I felt Liv wrap her arms around me. I started sobbing into her shoulder which made her hold me tighter.

" Am I not good enough. What's wrong with me Liv?" I asked

" Nothing's wrong with you Y/n/n. Just forget about Josh. Screw him. You don't need a boy cause you have all of us." She told me and pulled me away from her and held my face while wiping the tears away.

" Girl power over powers any boy." She told me which made us all laugh.

" Thanks Liv. Also thanks guys." I smiled, pulling them all into a hug.

When we pulled away from the hug I asked...

" This my sound stupid, but can we listen to your song Liv."

They all let out laughs. Instead of answering me she pulled out her phone and played it. We all screamed the lyrics. When it got to the bridge they all stopped singing so I screamed out the lyrics to them...

" Red lights, stop signs. I still see your face in the white cars, front yards. Can't drive past the places, we used to go to, 'Cause I still fuckin' love you, babe. (Ooh,Ooh-Ooh,Ooh-ooh)"

I opened my eyes to find them all filming me which made me smile. I tried to sing the rest of the bridge, but my voice was sore from screaming and crying. After I hung out with them a little more I went to drive back to the apartment and thought about chickening out. I told myself I had to do it, I had to face him at some point. I walked up to the door and tried to find my key. I started panicking a little, but calmed down right away when I felt it in my pocket. I unlocked the door to find Josh's eyes staring right at me.

' I know we weren't perfect, But I've never felt this way for no one, And I just can't imagine, how you could be so okay now that I'm gone, guess you didn't mean what you wrote in that song about me, 'Cause you said forever, now I drive alone past your street.'

I saw him get up from his spot which made me put my hand out to stop him. I felt tears falling down my cheeks again.

" Y/n/n, please don't cry." he said

" Why did you lie to me? You pinky promised that nothing was going on with her." I said through my tears.

He let out a sigh... " Come on, I'm sorry, I broke the promise. I'm also sorry for..." I stopped him

" Stop! I can't take you lying to me anymore. I'm leaving. I'll come get my stuff later."

He tried to stop me. " No! Josh! I'm done with your crap and I'm tired of the lies you tell me. We're over."

I was about to open the door when I turned around and said...

" Yeah, You said forever. Now I drive alone past your street." I then walked out the door letting it slam behind me.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Hopefully you guys enjoyed, also sorry if it's confusing. I just hope you understand it, if not let me know and I can figure a way to fix it. Thanks for all the love guys.

[dirtydobrik]

rumors - j.w.

plot: you and jeff are engaged and keeping your relationship private but rumors spread when you’re seen wearing one of his baseball hats while running errands

 word count: 1100

masterlist

You stepped out of your air conditioned office building and into the hot LA sun. You walked over to your car, praying you had your gym bag in the trunk since you had signed up for a yoga class and didn't have time to run back to your apartment and get a change of clothes. The drive to the yoga studio from your office building was one you hadn't done since mid-March and you had missed the familiarity of the route in your daily routine. Your windows were rolled down with the AC and music blasting as you drove the 22 minutes. Your class wasn't for another twenty minutes, but you headed inside to change in the locker room. You kicked your heels off and changed into leggings and a sports bra. Your new engagement ring was tucked into your purse so it didn't get lost or damaged. You tugged your sneakers on and joined the few others waiting for the class. You made small talk with a few of them, before the instructor welcomed you into the studio.

An hour later, you were feeling relaxed as you walked out to your car.

“I’m running to the grocery store, do you need anything?” you asked your fiancé into the phone on your way out of the yoga studio. Jeff said he just wanted what you normally picked up, and to hurry home because he wanted dinner.

You climbed into your car and blasted the AC to combat the dry heat of LA. Your hair was a mess, so you tied it into a low bun and pulled Jeff’s worn in black baseball cap on to your head.

You turned into the parking lot of the grocery store and grabbed a cart. You wandered around the store, filling it with your normal groceries. You were still in your leggings and half zipped sweatshirt that revealed your sports bra from your workout and you definitely could've looked better, but you brushed it off.

You loaded the paper bags into the trunk of your car and texted Jeff that you would home in ten minutes so he could come help you bring everything in.

He was standing in the parking garage when you pulled in, flashing you a smile.

"I missed you," he whispered, pushing you up against the car door and giving you a soft kiss.

"You saw me this morning," you reminded him, using your left hand to push him off of you. Jeff still wasn't used to having you out of the house everyday since you had recently returned to your office building earlier in the week. "But I missed you, too."

"Where's your ring?" he asked, grabbing your hand and staring at your fingers.

“My purse,” you reassured him. “I took it off for yoga.” A small frown formed on Jeff’s lips and you rolled your eyes, but opened your purse to slide the ring back on.

“That's much better,” Jeff grinned, giving you another kiss, before grabbing the groceries from the trunk of your car to bring them up to your apartment.

 ---

After the two of you finished dinner and the dishes were washed, you poured yourself a glass of wine and settled down next to Jeff on the couch. He was scrolling through his phone and avoided making eye contact with you when you sat down, making it obvious that there was something he didn't want you to see.

"What is it?" you asked, glancing over to try and see what was on his phone.

“People are speculating that we’re dating,” he confessed, angling his phone so you could see it. A side by side photo of you grocery shopping today and Jeff from the other day were on his Twitter timeline. In both pictures, the two of you were wearing the same baseball cap, and different parts were circled to prove it was the same hat.

A small frown formed on your lips and you could only blame yourself for the spreading rumors. “I’m sorry,” you mumbled, looking down.

“Hey, this isn’t your fault,” Jeff assured you, wrapping his arm around you and kissing the top of your head. “And it’s not like this is the first time people have assumed we’re together.”

“I know, but this is their first real piece of evidence that we are,” you sighed.

The two of you had been keeping your relationship as private as possible, since you weren’t a public figure. You had met Jeff through a mutual friend when you were still living in New York City. After doing long distance for over a year, you finally decided to move out to LA and Jeff encouraged you to move in with him. You’d been in LA for two years and although you had quickly adapted to the lifestyle, you still didn’t love the fact that Jeff was famous.  

“Babe, you know we can’t control what other people see or say,” Jeff reminded you. You nodded, knowing it was true, but you still felt responsible for the rumors. They wouldn’t be spreading at all if you didn’t wear his hat to the store.

---

“They seem happy for you,” you said softly, running your fingers through his hair as his head rested on your lap. The two of you were still on the couch scrolling through fan theories on social media to see what people were saying about your relationship.

“But you aren’t happy,” he pointed out, sitting up and turning around to face you. “What’s wrong?”

“I just feel bad,” you muttered. “We wanted to keep things private and I’m the one who ruined it.”

“You didn’t ruin anything,” he promised. “And besides, it could’ve been worse.”

“How so?” you questioned, absentmindedly playing with your ring.

“They could be unsupportive of me dating someone. Or they could’ve seen you wearing that,” he said, grabbing your hand and pointing to your ring. You knew he had a point. The most concrete piece of evidence people had that you two were together was a picture of you wearing his baseball cap and you could easily lie about just being friends with him to stop that rumor.

“You’re right. I’m just overreacting,” you sighed. “It’s not like they know any details of our relationship.”

“If only they knew the truth,” he grinned, holding his arm out for you to cuddle up next to him. You rested your head on his shoulder and his arm was wrapped around you, holding you tightly. You lifted your hand up to admire the diamond ring Jeff had given you a few weeks ago.

“So, have you given any thought to our wedding?” you asked.

[rinasred]

Night falls, I'm cast beneath her spell.

An hournite fic -

Summary: Rick has been engaging with a mystery girl online, he hopes that she reveals herself to be his long time crush beth... maybe he gets what he's hoping for. <3

read on AO3

---

Rick had always been good at keeping things to himself. He never understood how some people can go around telling others every aspect of their own lives. He was especially that way in school and on social media. His classmates knew absolutely nothing about him, if you asked them they'd probably just say he's the angry kid with the drunken dad (of course no one knew he’s actually his uncle). Or recently they'll mention how he hangs out with those weird girls all the time, meaning Beth, Yolanda and Courtney. But that's about all the knowledge Rick's peers have about him.

Sitting on his bed rick scrolls through his Instagram feed, where he keeps himself anonymous. A noise comes from his phone to show that he has a notification. It's a message, and there's only one person it can be from. He checks it to see that it's from a user by the name of BubblyGirl04. A grin comes across Rick's face as he reads the notification. Rick and this girl have been messaging non stop for the past months, they've been talking even before he found out about hourman and the JSA.

With a giant smile on his face Rick opens the message to see an image attached, it's a photo of delicious looking pasta. Under it the mystery girl wrote.

Bubblygirl04: So... What do you think? Do i just get better or what?

YellowMustang: It looks amazing, my mouth is actually watering up... And to answer your question, yes, you do in fact get better.

Bubblygirl04: Thanks!! You're too sweet for you own good!! <3

Rick looks up from his phone, his face heats up as his cheeks turn a reddish color. Luckily he was alone in his room, he would die if anyone caught him blushing the way he is now.

BubblyGirl04: So tell me, do you think that i should join the cooking class at our school? I don't want that to make it easier for you to figure me out.

YellowMustang: Join as you please, I don't think the cooking instructor will see you coming. She's probably gonna have to call up Gordon Ramsay to our school.

YellowMustang: Alsoooo... What's so scary about me figuring out who you are??

Bubblygirl04: Lmaoo Gordon Ramsay? No i definitely can't handle the pressure of him tasting my food, i would go into anxiety overload. And we talked about this, I don't think i'm ready to reveal who i am... Not quite yet anyway.. sorry :(

Just like that, he could feel his heart sink in his chest. Like blades being pulled out of it, he would always suggests that she tells him who she is, but she never seems to be ready. But Rick could understand, he wasn't sure if he was ready to reveal himself to her yet. He would never admit it but he was afraid she'd be disappointed. She's sweet, smart, talented and funny, he couldn't imagine losing her because he wasn't good enough.

Yellowmustang: Yeah ok, don't be sorry, i understand.. it's just.. sometimes i wish we could be something real.

Bubblygirl04: We are real?? Are we not??? We talk everyday, and we tell each other everything about our lives?

Yellowmustang: ... It's not real until i get to hold you... It's not real until i get to whisper in you ear that you're mine..

-read-

Rick's mind made up so many situations as to why she didn't reply, it's been forty minutes since he had sent the text and still, nothing. He lays down on his bed with both palms covering his face. He groans when the thought of his message comes across his mind. He wonders if he should get up and do something to distract himself, but honestly nothing can really take him mind of this girl.

A ping can be heard from his phone, Rick jumps up and sees the phone laying at the bottom of his bed. He chuckles with the hope that it's a text from the mystery girl. Leaning forward he grabs the phone and checks the notification. The banner across his phone reads "JSA GC". It was from the imessage group chat that him and the girls made a few weeks back. His excitement toned down when he realized it wasn't from the girl he had hoped.

Courtney: Rick!! WTF!?!??! You're like super late, where are you??!?!

Yolanda: Relax Court, i'm sure he's just held up... Rick we need you here, pat has a whole thing set up for us... You know how he is.

Rick: Sorry, i had something come up. But i'm on my way.

Rick sends the text and quickly gets up and puts on his shoes. He puts his hoodie on and rushes out the door. He knew that if he were any later, he would never hear the end of it from Courtney. He gets in his yellow mustang that belonged to his father, thanks to pat it's now a working engine. Driving to the Pit stop where the group is, Rick couldn't help but ponder on everything that happened with the mystery girl. But he knew he couldn't think about that at practice, he needed to have his full attention on practicing, the injustice society was still out there somewhere and they needed to be stopped.

Arriving at the pit stop entrance Rick is approached by Courtney immediately.

"What the hell rick? It took you long enough, doesn't taking down the ISA mean anything to you?" Courtney lectures.

"Yeah of course it does you know that, i just.. got caught up in something but it's fine now."

Yolanda walks towards Rick as she stands besides Courtney. "You okay rick?" Yolanda questions. She looks at Rick with a sincere concerned look, she could tell something had been bothering him.

Rick pretends not to notice her concern. "Yeah, i'm fine. Can we just get started already." He says while walking further into the pit stop. He notices Pat has dummies of the ISA up again, well at least they aren't as cheesy looking as the ones Courtney destroyed. There are around four cpr dummies on sticks decorated with makeup and costumes resembling the ISA members. Wow, is this what pat spends all his free time doing? Rick thought.

"Rick! Good to see you buddy. Alright now that we're all here, i'll tell you what we're going to be studying today." Pat stated to the four teens as they stand in front of the bleachers awaiting his instructions.

While Pat was rambling on about teamwork and it's important on the field, Rick zoned out after noticing Beth. Something was different, her hair wasn't down as it usually it, it was braided down into crown braids. Rick stared in awe as she shyly looked at Pat while paying close attention to what he was saying, she cared so much about these missions and never missed a single practice. Rick admired her efficiency, he admired her everything.

"Alright so today we're going to be focusing on how your abilities work together on the field. So we will start off with each of you being paired with one another and we'll see how you can use your powers to help each other out. Then we'll do one last practice with all four of you, got it?" Pat explained.

"Got it." The three girls say in unison.

"O-oh, yeah got it." Rick says shortly after them once he's focus is back on pat and off of beth.

Pat sets the dummy of icicle in the center of the room. "Alright first we need Courtney and Yolanda, let's see how stargirl and wildcat can work together to beat icicle." Pat states.

Courtney picks up the cosmic staff from beside her feet, she gets in a fighting stance. "Alright, i was born for this." She lets out eagerly.

"Uhh, Yeah me too!" Yolanda adds on.

"Okay let's go, and while we're practicing, Rick and Beth you guys can wait on the bleachers until it's your turn." Pat explains.

Beth goes to seat in the middle of the bleachers and sits down before taking out her phone and staring at it longingly. Rick's eyes follow her as he can't help but to gaze at her.

"Gee, i get lectured for being late only to be benched? Quite a team we have going here." Rick complains sarcastically before walking to sit next to beth, his legs began to rush because of his excitement of finally be able to be with her all day but he tries to slow down as to not seem too eager.

Booms and zaps can be heard as Courtney and Yolanda practice on the dummies. As always Courtney is complimenting herself after every success and Yolanda is just excited to put use of all the amazing things her cat suit can do. Rick watches them practice for a second before turning to Beth, she still had a sorrowful look on her face as she stared at her phone.

Rick notices she hasn't said a word to him all day, which was unusual of Beth, she's usually the first to initiate every conversation. She didn't ask anyone how their days were or talk about all the amazing things her and chuck talked about, nothing.

Taking a deep breath Rick tries to think of something to say to break the silence. "So... How are you beth?" He asks, sliding closer to her on the bench.

Beth looks up from her phone and towards Rick, their eyes meet. Rick heart begins to beat out of his chest as he glanced into her honey brown eyes.

"Oh hi rick.." Beth says looking up from her phone. "I'm fine... Super excited for practice.. How about you?" Beth says, not sounding like her normal chipper self.

Rick couldn't help but think back to the mystery girl, because for a while he had hoped beth would reveal that she was behind the account. It made sense, both beth and the mystery girl had so much in common. They both are have no siblings, they have distant parents and not to mention their talent for cooking and baking. But Rick thought he was just getting his hopes up, he felt as if he let his existing crush on beth cloud his judgement.

Even though Rick really liked this mystery girl, his heart belonged to beth since the first grade. Ever since she was the only one to remember his birthday (rick's asshat of an uncle was too drunk to bother remembering). She brought him in cupcakes that she made herself, they were chocolate and fudge, with vanilla frosting and the words "happy b day rick" written on top in green frosting. Him and Beth sat together at recces that day and at the cupcakes on the bench.

Rick was never the type to remember specific details, but he could easily go on about the gorgeous blue sundress beth wore that day, he remembered her telling him she wanted to wear something special for his big day. She sang him happy birthday in the most beautiful harmony. He never forgot how beautiful she sounded, even when the teachers couldn't bother to do something for his birthday, he knew he could always count on beth.

"I'm okay i guess." Rick responds fidgeting in his seat.

"Well thats good to hear." Beth says going to look back at her phone.

Rick notices how often she had been staring at her phone screen today, which was fairly unusual. Beth was never the type to use her phone during conversations. "You waiting on a text?" Rick suggests, hoping to get some type of explanation out of her.

Beth jumps and quickly puts her phone away upon hearing those words. "No, it's nothing i was just thinking about something a friend of mine sent me." She says vaguely, turning her vision to rick finally.

He could tell something was wrong, he knew her better than he knew himself. "Hey, how about we let wildcat and stargirl do their thing in here, and go get some fresh air while we wait for our turn." Rick suggests, hoping to get some alone time with beth for the first time today.

"Sure! I could use a breath of fresh air." Beth responds, getting up and walking towards the exist, rick follows behind her.

The summer sun rays touch Rick's skin, the heat was really starting to come in now that summer has officially started. He smiled and watched as beth took off her cardigan and tied it around her waist.

"So, umm beth... I think i have something that i want to ask you, i mean i have been wanting to ask you about this for some time, but i was a little too embarrassed in case you'd say no and it's well its a lot-" Rick rambled on, preparing himself for what he was about to ask, he couldn't believe he had finally gained the courage to do so.

Beth walk closer to rick, placing her hand gently on his arm to calm his nerves. "What is it rick? You know you can tell me anything!" She reassures him.

He did know, thats what made her so amazing. "Beth... I have feelings for you." Rick admits.

For a second it felt like time had stopped as rick glanced at beth's precious face to see her reaction to his words. She gapes her mouth and her eyes widen in shock. He soft hold on Rick's arm becomes a soft grip.

"You... have feelings for me?" Beth asks rhetorically. Rick nods his head in responds, he slightly pouts, afraid of what she might say next.

"Do you feel the same way?" He asks. He could feel his heart beating out of his chest, his palms were dripping with sweat. He felt as if he could faint any second.

Beth eyes light up, her shocked expression turns into a grin. "Oh my god- RICK!?!? OF COURSE I LIKE YOU!" She shouts as she rushes in for a hug.

The warmth of Beth affection calms Rick down immanently, a grin as bright as the sun comes across rick's face as he sighs out of relief. They embrace each other for some time, not even realizing how much time had passed.

Once the hugs ends, beth lays her hands on rick's shoulders, as he grabs her waist slighting to bring her closer to his height. Rick's heart flutters as he stares into beth's eyes, he would always catch glances of her eyes when they hung out, but he was always to shut to look into them for too long. But not today, he felt like he could stare into her eyes forever, looking at her had always made him feel safe.

Rick couldn't even think about the mystery girl, whoever she was, if she wasn't beth, it didn't matter to him.

"Can i confess something to you Rick?" Beth questions, with a look of concern in her eyes.

"You can tell me anything, beth." Rick replies, he knew that she couldn't say anything that would dim his happiness. The girl of his dreams had just admitted to having feelings for him too, this moment was too special to be ruined.

"Well, i've kind of been having a thing with this guy-" Beth begins, those words sank Rick's heart. He never experienced such intense jealousy in his life, the euphoria he felt had slowly began to fade away as he listened to beth speak.

"And well we met online and never actually talked in person, in fact i'm not exactly sure who he is. And I don't know if i'm gonna keep talking to him, because... whenever i talk to him, i've always imagined you." Beth lets out.

Rick's joy comes rushing back upon hearing the end of beth's sentence. She imagined him, even when she talked to other guys, he always dreamed of being on her mind as much as she was on his. Then slowly, rick's logic comes into play when he ponders upon beth's situation with this guy.

He thought back to how he was in an exact similar situation but with a girl, could it be? After all this time imagining beth, could it actually be that Rick was right.

Before he could even think of the words to say in response to beth's confession, rick leans in his lips brushed her, delicately. The warmth from her lips caused rick to shiver as he cupped the back of her neck with his right hand.

After a while, when the kiss is over, rick dazedly stared into beth's eyes again. She stared back, her face surprised but pleased with Rick's response.

"Hey beth." He says.

"Yes?" She replies.

Rick leans into her ear and whispers, "You're mine." He could feel beth freeze up upon hearing him speak those words, just like that it clicked to her as well. "Now it's real." He says finally.

[myhockeyworld87]

Love Me Anyway - Tyler Seguin - Part 4

Word Count: 5728

POV: Changes, Reader first, then Tyler

Warnings: The norm, cursing. 

Notes: This is a long one, it’s the first date. Hope you guys enjoy. Happy reading!

READER POV

Why had you agreed to go on a date with Tyler? You were questioning your sanity as you search your closet for something to wear. And why in God’s name did you say you would plan the date? This was way too much pressure. Maybe you should just text Tyler and cancel. Just then your phone dinged. It was a text from the guy currently occupying all your thoughts.

“Hey, beautiful can’t wait for tonight.”

 What did you text back to that? “Me either…” or, “I think I came down with the chickenpox.” More like you were just being a chicken. In the end, you text back, “Me too. Dress casual.” You went back to searching in your closet. Finding a cute pair of jean shorts and a black button-up blouse that you may have left one too many buttons undone at the neck. It was perfect for the date you had planned. You spent extra time getting ready, making sure your makeup was perfect. 

 You had about an hour until Tyler came, so you popped open a bottle of wine and had a glass to calm your nerves. You were sipping your wine when the phone rang. Jenna’s face appeared on your screen.

 “Hey, Jenna. What’s up?”

 “I called to make sure you’re not bailing on your date with Tyler,” she harassed you. 

 “No, I’m not backing out on him. Though I thought about saying I had the chickenpox.”

 Jenna laughed. “Well, at least you weren’t going to say you had gonorrhea.” You both laughed harder at that.

 “I might be nervous but not that nervous.” 

 “It’ll be fine. You two will have a great time.”

 “I hope he doesn’t think my date idea is lame.”

 “Why would he. I think it’s something everyone likes to do.” Jenna reassured you. “Besides it’s not your typical sit at a restaurant type of thing. I’m sure he’s going to love it. Are you dressed and ready to go?”

 “Yeah, I was just having a glass of wine to calm myself. So tell me about what happened with Derek at Tyler’s? That will take my mind off things.”

 “Oh sure, make me nervous now,” Jenna chuckled.

 “I noticed you were two were gone after the beer pong game.” You could hear the grin in her voice as she answered you.

 “Yeah. He had to get up early, and offered to share an Uber with me,” Jenna told you. “Then he walked me to my door and kissed me.”

 “OH MY GOD!” you shouted on the phone. “And you waited this long to tell me. This is headline news shit. You lead with this story not make me drag it out of you.” Jenna was laughing at you.

 “I just don’t want to jinx it or anything.”

 “Give me more details. Are you going out again? What’s the scoop?”

 “He texted me today and wanted to know if I wanted to do something tonight.”

 “So are you?” you questioned.

 “Yeah he’s coming over and we’re just going to chill here.”

 “Netflix and chill huh?” you teased her. “You know what that means.”

 “Shut Up,” you could feel her blushing.

 “I need all the details tomorrow.”

 “Well duh, so do I. Let’s do lunch tomorrow.”

 “Sounds like a plan. Have fun tonight. And don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.” You told her.

 “Well that leaves the door wide open,” you both laughed. “You too! And try and behave yourself. Remember nothing good happens after midnight.”

 She tossed back at you an old saying your mom used to tell you, girls, in high school. “I’ll try and remember that mom,” you answered back sarcastically. “Talk to you tomorrow.” You hung up the phone and checked the time. You had about 15 minutes before Tyler got there. So you went and checked your hair and makeup again; and finished off your cabernet. You threw some money, lip gloss, your phone, and some mints in your small purse. Can’t forget the mints you thought. Tyler hadn’t kissed you last night, which was kind of weird because you expected him to. But he was surprising you at every turn. You tossed on a strappy pair of wedge sandals and you were ready to go. The doorbell rang just then, signally Tyler was here. You took a deep breath to calm yourself and headed to answer the door. He stood there in a black polo shirt that fit him in all the right places and a pair of khaki shorts. He was holding a bouquet of beautiful pink roses. “Hi,” you said. 

 “Hey (Y/N). These are for you.” He said handing the flowers over to you.

 “They’re beautiful. Thanks. Come on in while I put them in water.” You had a cute little one-story home with 3 bedrooms. It wasn’t near as glamorous as Tyler’s house was. In fact, you couldn’t even compare the two. But you were quite proud of your little home. “I’m just going to grab a vase and I’ll be right back.” You quickly scrambled into the kitchen.

 “Your place is really nice,” you heard Tyler say from the living room.

 “Thanks. It’s not much but I like it.” You headed back out to find him standing there with his hands in his pockets looking at the pictures that were above the fireplace. “That’s me with my niece Rylyn and my nephew Reese. They’re my brother Matt’s kids.” 

 “Their cute, just like their aunt,” Tyler replied.

 “Thanks.”

 “And who are these guys?” 

 Tyler had picked up the picture with you and your two brothers. It was one of those silly ones that people recreated from a childhood photo. You three had done it about four years ago when your mom was finally going to throw out your old toy box. It was all three of you inside the toy box with stuffed animals, G.I. Joe and Barbie. The recreation was quite hilarious considering all three of you couldn’t fit in there now. But it was a photo that spoke volumes to the relationship you had with your brothers. “Those are my brothers, Sean and Matt,” you chuckled. “Not the best picture of us.”

 “No, it’s a great photo. I should get Candace and Cassidy to do something like this.”

 “We should get going. I made the reservation for 7:30 and it’s about 15 minutes away.”

 “So where are we headed.”

 “That’s a surprise,” you teased.

 “Kind of hard to do that when I have to drive there,” he teased back. 

 “No worries, I’m just gonna plug the address in my phone or your car navigation and we’ll get there just fine without you knowing where we’re going.” You winked at him.

 “Are you taking me to a strip club or something” Tyler smirked.

 “Oh yeah, I pretty much know all the guys by name at the place. They told me they’d give you a free lap dance.” You taunted him on the way out the door.

 “Wait, I meant a female one.” He laughed.

 “Hmmm, sorry male is what you get when you leave me in charge.” Tyler opened the door to his G wagon for you to get in. You were relieved he didn’t bring one of his showy sports cars. 

 “You seriously aren’t going to tell me where we’re going?” he asked as he got in and started the vehicle.

 “Nope. You are at my mercy.” You replied, punching the address into the navigation system. You hit go, and the two of you were off. The fifteen-minute drive didn’t take long as you both chatted about nothing in particular. You made the final turn into the parking lot and looked over to see his reaction.

 “K 1 Speed? We’re going to go drive go-carts?” Tyler asked excitedly.

 “Yep. I got a need for speed Seguin and I need to see if you can keep up with me,” you winked.

 “This is awesome.” You both hopped out of the car. Tyler frowning at you. 

 “What?”

 “I was gonna get the door for you. I’m trying to be a gentleman here.” 

 “Oops sorry” you replied. “Are you gonna be a gentleman on the racecourse as well and let me win.”

 “Hell no. You’re gonna eat my dust (Y/L/N),” he challenged.

 “Really? Care to place a small wager on that?” you retorted. 

 “What’d you have in mind?”

 “Loser buys dinner,” you answered.

 “Nope, not happening. I asked you out; I’m buying.”

 You rolled your eyes and replied, “Yes but I planned the date. So it’s a great compromise.”

 Tyler stopped right as the two of you were about to enter the indoor track. “You can’t seriously think I’m going to let you pay.” 

 “What makes you think I’m paying? I plan on ordering lobster tonight,” you laughed as you slid through the door.

 Tyler followed behind you shaking his head and smiling. You walked over to the counter and gave them your name for your reservation. It was towards the end of the night so there weren’t many other drivers racing. Which was nice. The clerk handed over two balaclavas for you both to put on under the helmets. It was more for cleanliness than for safety. You had scheduled 3 races for the 2 of you. “So, best of 3 is the winner.” you winked at him as he slid the mask on.

 “I’m not going easy on you,” he answered back.

 “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

 You received a quick lesson from the instructor on safety and what all the flag meant. Before you suited up and headed to your go-cart.

 Tyler had the cart behind you the first race. There were 5 other racers with you. Your speed and time for each lap would be posted at the end of the race. “Good luck.” You called back to him. He gave you the thumbs up and you both slid behind the wheel.

 The signal went off and you put the pedal to the floor. Taking the first couple turns with ease. You put some distance between you and Tyler in the first couple of laps. But then his car overtook yours on the one turn. Which meant he was definitely going to win this race. You needed a better strategy for race number 2. As the first race ended you were correct, Tyler’s time and speed were faster than yours. 

 “That’s one (Y/N)” Tyler cheered “I’m going for the triple crown.”

 “Don’t put that tiara on yet.” You taunted back. Tyler’s car was in the front this time around. You knew you needed to pass him early so that you could get the win this time. So as soon as got the go-ahead, you floored it. Taking the inside corners on the turn you were able to catch up to him easily. You weren’t even slowing down as each turn came up, and by lap 4 you were able to push past Tyler to win Race 2. “How’s that crown fitting now Ty?”

 “There’s still one race left (Y/N). Winner takes all.” He answered.

 The third race began and you were both fighting for the lead. At one lap you would have it and then in the next turn, Tyler would overtake you. You knew it was going to come down to the fastest speed this time around. The checkered flag waved signaling the end of the race. As you pulled the cars into the spaces your eyes went to the leader board to see who won. Tyler jumped out of the go-cart and headed straight to you, to help you out. The board still not showing the winner. You lifted your helmet off leaving your balaclava on, Tyler doing the same. Suddenly the board lit up and Tyler’s name was in the number 1 spot. “Sorry babe looks like I won,” he said smugly.

 “Only by 2 seconds. I demand a recount.” You giggled. You grabbed the mask off your head. You knew your hair was going to look a mess. The loose ponytail you had put it in was half falling out at this point. You removed it and shook your hair out. Hopefully making your long locks look somewhat presentable. You looked over at Tyler. His mouth was slack, just sort of staring at you. “What do I look that bad?” you asked. 

 He had taken his balaclava off as well and his cute curly locks were all messy on top his head. You wanted to reach up and thread your fingers in his hair. But you were too self-conscious of your own look to do so. He finally shook his head no as he ran his fingers through his messy mane; and said. “You look absolutely gorgeous right now.”

 Your body was already flush from driving around the track, but you turned an even deeper shade of red at his words. Somehow you managed to speak, “Thanks but I doubt that. Come on, I owe you dinner.” You held out your hand for him to take. The two of you walking hand in hand out to the parking lot.

 “I gotta tell you (Y/N), this is the best date I’ve ever been on.”

 “It’s not over yet, silly. It could all go downhill from here.”

 “Somehow I highly doubt that.” You made it back to the passenger side of the G Wagon when he turned you to look at him. “I think I thought of a better prize for winning.” 

 You looked up at him expectantly, asking “oh really?”

 His hand that had been holding yours let go and rested on your waist. While his other hand moved to your cheek. You knew at that moment he was going to kiss you and every fiber of your being wanted it to happen. He was looking in your eyes as you stared into the depth of his. Your lips curved upwards in a smile telling him that you wanted this as much as he did. His thumb caressed your cheek as he tilted his head and leaned down to meet your lips. The kiss was soft and tender. You let your eyelids close as you gave into it. Your hands gliding up his chest to entwine around his neck. His hand at your waist pulled you in closer; your lips parted giving him access to you. You moaned softly into his mouth as his tongue danced with yours. Tyler deepened the kiss sending shivers down your spine and leaving you breathless. He gently pulled away ending the kiss and leaving your head spinning. You two kissed a couple of small short times before his head rested on your forehead. “That was a much better prize than you buying me dinner,” he smiled down at you.

 “Oh I’m still buying dinner,” You said as you gave him a quick peck on the lips before turning to get in the car.

 TYLER POV

 (Y/N) looked amazing when she opened the door. You had hoped that the pink roses you got were ok. You didn’t want to seem to forward with red, and the pink ones reminded you of the way that she blushed. She put them in some water as you wondered around her living room looking at the photos she had on display. There were a couple of her with two young kids. You hadn’t thought to ask her if she had any. You glanced around the house it didn’t look like any toys were hanging around. Not that kids were a deal-breaker or anything. You just realized you didn’t know a ton about her, and you were hoping to change all that tonight. She came back in and told you they were her niece and nephew. You saw a crazy ass picture of her in a toy box with two guys, who she explained were her brothers. You were glad to see she had a fun side to her. 

 “So where are we headed?” you asked.

 (Y/N) wouldn’t tell you. You joked that she was taking you to a strip club, but it backfired on you when she said it was a male strip club. She definitely was keeping you on your toes and you liked that. She put an address in the GPS and you followed the direction. You weren’t sure what she had up her sleeve considering she told you to dress casual but go-carting was the last thing you would’ve thought of. You were stoked about it. 

 “This is awesome,” you told her once she confirmed this was where you were going.

 She wanted to bet you on who would win. Winner buying dinner, but there was no way you were letting that happened if you won. You’d figure something out when you crossed that bridge. The races were fun and you were learning (Y/N) had a competitive side in her. You liked it. You each had won a race and it was down to the wire in the third. The times hadn’t posted by the time you pulled the go-carts in. So you jumped out of yours to go help (Y/N). By the time you both had your helmets off the times came up, declaring you the winner. “Sorry, babe looks like I won,” you exclaimed. It was the first time victory had tasted bittersweet. Now you needed to come up with a way so that (Y/N) wouldn’t want to pay for dinner. You whipped off your mask only to look over and see (Y/N) shaking her hair out. You were mesmerized. It was like you were 14 again, watching Baywatch and seeing the girls run down the beach slowly. She looked so beautiful. Her hair was a bit messy but that’s what made her look even more stunning. She was flushed from driving around the track, which gave her this rosy glow. She was literally your walking, breathing dream girl. You knew you were staring but you couldn’t help it. 

 She broke you out of your spell by asking if she looked bad. Looked bad? You thought. Hell, it took everything in you not to just grab her in your arms and take her right there on the track. You ran your fingers through your own hair, embarrassed where your thoughts were running and told her how gorgeous she looked. Which of course she doubted, as most women do. You needed air. She stretched out her hand for you to take so you two could go have dinner. As you headed to the car it came to you that you’d already won the best prize, an evening with her. The only thing that would complete it would be a kiss. 

 You decided then, that a kiss would be your trophy. You moved your one hand to her waist, as the other went to caress her cheek. You gave her a second to say no if she wanted to, but she just looked into your eyes and smiled. It was all you needed. Your lips touched hers tentatively. In the back of your mind, you wanted this kiss to be a promise of all that you could give her if she’d let you. You added gentle pressure, seeking access but not forcing her to give it. Her hands went behind your neck and so you drew her closer to you. That’s when she gave in, a soft moan escaping her lips. It was all you needed. You deepened the kiss, letting your tongue mingle with hers. You weren’t sure how long the kiss lasted. You knew at some point she was leaning against the car for support. You were glad because your head was starting to spin with how intoxicating the kiss was. You gently started to end the kiss. Your lips still seeking hers for tiny pecks, not wanting it to be over yet. You rested your head on her forehead, calming your body. When you were finally able to catch your breath, you whispered, “That was a much better prize than you buying me dinner.”

 “Oh I’m still buying dinner,” she said with one last quick kiss. She snuck out of your embrace and jumped in the car. Damn woman. You thought as your hands now rested on the G wagon. You inhaled sharply and headed over to the driver’s side, glad the night wasn’t over yet. “So where are we headed now.”

 “You’ll see,” she replied, fingers already putting the address in. You just shook your head. If the rest of the date was anything like the first part you’d go wherever she wanted. 

 “So you’ve got a competitive streak in you,” you asked her.

 “Maybe a little. I didn’t have much of a choice growing up with 2 brothers. Though I’m sure they’ll tell you as the baby of the family, I got everything.”

 “Yeah, I can see that Cassidy has us all wrapped around her finger,” you quipped back.

 “Hey, it’s tough being the baby, not to mention the only girl.” She turned to look at you, all serious. “My brothers made Barbie do bad things to Ken, and don’t get me started about what she had to do to G.I. Joe.”

 You couldn’t contain your laughter. That had to be one of the funniest things you’ve ever heard. She was laughing along with you and when you finally stopped you turned and asked, “They didn’t really do that, did they?”

 “Oh yeah,” she answered nonchalantly. “I walked in one night and Barbie was naked on her knees in front of Ken with his jeans down in the dream house. It was a life lesson, and trust me I got them back eventually.”

 You could just see a defiant little (Y/N) standing there berating her brothers over a naked Barbie doll. It was a totally adorable image. “I can’t say I ever did that to Candace or Cassidy, though I’ve definitely put them through some shit.”

 “I don’t doubt that,” she teased back. “They probably could tell me some good stories about little Tyler.”

 You deadpanned over at her. “There was never anything little about me.” Laughter breaking out between the two of you after what you said.

 She just shook her head and blushed becomingly. God, she was adorable you thought. The GPS told you to take a left turn and your destination was on the right. You should’ve known it would be more fun with how the evening was going. There you were pulling into the parking lot of Dave and Busters. She grabbed her purse and pulled out two cards. “I took the liberty of getting these earlier. You want to eat first or play some games?”

 You had all kinds of games going through your mind, especially after you heard what her Barbie used to do. “How about we grab something to eat first.” You suggested. It would give your mind and other parts of your body a chance to cool off. 

 This time (Y/N) let you go around and open her door for her. You instinctively grabbed her hand as you walked through the parking lot into the place. 

 “Are you here to play or dine?” the hostess asked. 

 “Both,” you both said at the same time.

 You asked for a table in the back where it was a little quieter. She was happy to oblige. There was a more adult crowd at this hour of the night you noticed, as she seated you in the last booth in the back. You were a bit bummed you weren’t at a table so you could sit closer to (Y/N) instead of across from her, but at least you’d be able to stare into her gorgeous (Y/eye color) eyes.

 “The food is just so, so here,” (Y/N) proceeded to tell you. “But I thought it would be fun to play some games.”

 “No this is great. Honestly (Y/N), I wasn’t kidding when I told you this is one of the best dates I’ve ever had. I’m so used to girls wanting me to take them to some stuffy old restaurant. You really can’t get to know anyone that way. This is just so much better. More relaxed.” You admitted to her. “I think you should plan all our dates from now on.”

 She raised her eyebrows. “So, you think there’s going to be more dates,” she chuckled.

 You ran your fingers through your hair again. You did that a lot when you were nervous or embarrassed. This time you were feeling both of those. “Well…I kind of hoped there would be.”

 She winked at you as she said, “Me too.” 

 You laced your fingers with hers on top of the table and you two were just sort of staring into each other’s eyes when the waiter came over. Instead of removing her hand from yours like you thought she would. She simply turned to him and placed her order. You ordered as well. The conversation was endless during the meal. You talked about hockey a little more this time and how training camp was coming up. She told you how she and her friends usually went to about a half dozen games during the season. In the back of your mind, you were already hoping she would be at every home game to watch you. She told you more about her family and you reciprocated with stories about yours. She snuck a couple of your fries which you thought was totally cute; and offered you a bite of her mac n cheese; which she fed you off her fork. It was almost like you’d known her forever; you were so at ease.

 The two of you split a cheesecake dip for dessert. “You got some right there,” (Y/N) pointed out to you. You stuck your tongue out to lick it off when she shook her head. Apparently, you had got the wrong side. She reached over wiping the dip off the corner of your lip and then sucked the dip off her finger. It was sexy as hell and you had to shut your eyes for a second to gain your sanity. The waiter came over just then with your bill and (Y/N)’s hand whipped out to grab the check.

 “No way, woman! I told you I got this.” You protested.

 “What’s fair is fair, and you won the race. I’m totally buying.” (Y/N) replied grabbing her credit card and giving it to the server.

 “(Y/N) please. You’ve already planned the best date of my life. At least let me pay.”

 “Tyler, I have a job, a good one at that. I can pay this lousy little bill. You can just plan the best date of my life. I’ll let you pay then.”

 With the smile she had on her face you couldn’t fight her anymore. Besides she’d just agreed to go out with you again. “Fine, but I’ve got some big shoes to fill,” you agreed.

 “Alright now let’s go win some tickets.”

 You grabbed her hand and headed off into the gaming section. You two played some video games, skee ball and a game that looked like beer pong without the beer. You walked over to shoot some hoops. “What no bet this time?” you questioned her.

 “Sadly, my basketball skills lack; as I was a cheerleader.” She laughed. You could just picture her in a short cheerleading skirt; the image making your mouth water. “So I’m not going to bet when I’m sure to lose.”

 You bent down and gave her a quick kiss. Nothing heated, just a quick peck. “Well, you can be my cheerleader any day.” She shook her head and laughed. “What too corny?”

 “Just a little, but I like corny on you,” she replied.

 A couple of teenagers were in line behind you waiting for their turn at the basketball game. You could see out of the corner of your eye they recognized you. You were just waiting for them to interrupt your date. You didn’t mind stopping and taking pictures with fans at any time. You just weren’t sure how (Y/N) was going to handle it. You’d dated enough women to know that sometimes they hated when they weren’t the center of attention. 

 “Excuse, Mr. Seguin,” the one kid finally got up enough nerve to ask. “Could we possibly have a picture with you?”

 You looked over at (Y/N) she didn’t really seem bothered by it.

 “Sure kid,” you responded.

 He was trying to take a selfie and get you all in. When (Y/N) came to him and said, “How about I take it for you.” 

 “Thanks.” She took his phone and snapped a couple of shots. “Good luck this season.”

 “Thanks, kid,” you answered back. “Sorry about that.”

 “What are you sorry about? That was sweet of you to do that.”

 “Well, it can be bothersome to some people at times.”

 “Not to me,” she replied. “It’s nice that you take time out with your fans.”

 (Y/N) really was one of kind. “Hmmm. I think this card is almost out of money. Should we put some more on?”

 “No, let’s go turn these points in for a sucker or something.” She giggled. 

 In the end, you two decided to combine your points and you had enough to pick out a small stuffed bear for her. “Here, you keep him. That way you can remember our first date.” You went to hand her the bear but instead, you put him up to your ear. “What’s that you say?” you said to the bear. “Oh, ok I’ll let her know.” You went and handed the bear to her, as she looks at you quizzically. “He said he promises not to do bad things with Barbie when he gets home.” You both started cracking up. Laughing the whole way out the door. 

 “I hope not.” (Y/N) responded after catching her breath. “They haven’t even met yet.”

 God, you loved that she got your sense of humor. You opened the door to let her in and then went around to the driver’s side. You glanced at the clock noticing that it was after midnight. You frowned knowing the date was coming to a close. You reached over and grabbed her hand to hold it as you drove back to her house. “Thank you for tonight,” you finally stated.

 “It was a lot of fun. Actually, one of the best dates I’ve ever had as well.” She admitted.

 “Can I be honest with you,” you asked glancing over at her. You felt a shift in her body, but only because you were holding her hand. She assumed you were going to say something bad about the date.

 “Always.”

 “I don’t want this night to end,” you whispered looking over at her and smiling. 

 She relaxed as your words sank in. “Me either.” She told you as she squeezed your hand.

 It seemed like no time that you were pulling into her driveway. You reluctantly turned off the engine and got out to walk her to the door. “So when can I see you again?” you asked.

 “I’m not sure what my schedule is like this week.” She said. “And no that’s not just some excuse I’m making. Call me tomorrow?”

 “Of course,” you answered right away. You were standing at her door feeling like a 16-year-old. “I’m pretty free most night’s this week. I only leave next Sunday for camp.” 

 “Ok well, I’m sure we can figure out something before then.”

 She put the key in the lock and opened her door. You took hold of her waist to draw her near. You saw her bite her lip in anticipation of your kiss. You leaned down, bringing your lips together finally. The kiss was slow, you weren’t in any hurry with (Y/N). You wanted to make it last. Give her something to think about at night as she lay in bed. God knows that’s what you’d be doing. You weren’t sure who moaned first, you or (Y/N); but you both deepened the kiss then. Tongues whirling around learning what each other liked. Her fingers threaded into your hair as she pulled you closer to her body. Your hands shifted down to her ass lifting her against you. Things were getting heated fast. The chemistry between you was undeniable. You knew you had to hold back before things got carried away. You loosened your grip on her, not pulling away but slowing things down. Her hands slid back to your shoulders resting there as the two of you continued kissing. She finally broke away. You were both out of breath. Your hands roaming up and down her back. 

 “I should probably go inside,” (Y/N) whispered.

 “Yeah,” you answered back, yet neither of you made a move to go.

 You felt her inhale sharply. Building her resolved to break away from your embrace. “I’ll talk to you soon,” she said as you kissed her one last time. She moved into the house then, closing the door softly behind her. You heard her turn the locks before you made a move to head back to the car. God this night was perfect. There were so many things running through your brain. It was crazy how you just left her but wanted to see her again already. You headed home, greeted the dogs and let them out. You were laying in your bed staring up at the ceiling thinking about your date with (Y/N). You grabbed your phone, you had to send her a quick text.

 Thanks for an amazing night. Can’t stop thinking about you….

 You knew it was lame, but you text it anyway. You set the phone back on the nightstand. Then picked it up to see if she was going to reply. You stared at the message willing it to send something back. She could be asleep for all you knew. Pretty soon those three little dots popped up, indicating she was typing.

 I had an amazing time too. Can’t wait to see you again. 

 You had a freaking perma-smile plastered on your face. You sent back the heart emoji. You laid the phone back down and rolled onto your side. Closing your eyes, your mind immediately pictured (Y/N) and you fell asleep dreaming of the next time you’d see her. 

[diarrheaworldstarhiphop]

Five years ago, while a student at Columbia, Sulkowicz lugged a dorm-issue, extra-long twin mattress around campus for as long as she had to attend school with her alleged rapist. This was Mattress Performance (Carry That Weight), a globally viral art piece that made visible the weight of campus sexual assault. It transformed Sulkowicz into an icon. Since then, her artworks have regularly roused the internet: a video of her reenacting her assault, a bondage performance at the Whitney that doubled as institutional critique. This past spring, she tweeted an image that was perhaps even more provocative: a photo of her grinning alongside two of her libertarian critics — not performance art, she insists, but a byproduct of her new curiosity about other views.

“All my clothes are in boxes,” she tells me, gesturing apologetically to her oversize charcoal hoodie. She’s in the midst of moving from a sublet owned by a tantra instructor (mirrors surrounding the bed to create an infinite regression — that kind of thing) to an apartment in lower Manhattan whose location she asks me not to reveal, since “there’s some really scary people who are obsessed with me.” Her hair is short-cropped and coffee black, its natural color after years of bright dyes, and her voice is buoyant, laughter always bubbling underneath. Since 2016, Sulkowicz has identified as gender fluid, and she sometimes uses they/them pronouns. When I ask what to use for this article, she texts me, “Lol I’m not clear about it either,” before settling on she/her.

During the summer of 2018, Sulkowicz tells me, she was single for the first time in years. Swiping through Tinder, a man she found “distasteful” super-liked her. “It smelled like Connecticut,” she says of his profile. “He was very blond, law school, cut jawline, trapezoidal body figure, tweed suit kind of vibe, but something inside of me made me swipe right, I don’t know.” They began messaging, and she found him witty. “He was actually way more fun to talk to than any other person I matched with.”

Eventually, Sulkowicz stalked him on Twitter and realized that he was conservative — “like, very conservative.” At first, she was repulsed and considered breaking it off. But then she thought, “Wait, actually, that’s kind of fucked up because he’s the most interesting person I’ve come across, shouldn’t I be open to talking to him?” After dispelling her initial fear, she texted him that it would be “interesting (progressive? Powerful?) for two people who might be the antithesis of each other to go on a Tinder date.”

Ahead of this date, they traded reading assignments: Sulkowicz gave him the password to protected areas of her website, and he sent pieces he’d written for conservative magazines, which she printed, annotated with her critiques, and brought to their date. This man expected Sulkowicz to be “the patron saint of wokeness,” but when he met her, he found that she wasn’t actually trying to litigate the issues — she was mostly just “curious about this different perspective that she had not been as familiar with.” The two “sort of dated” for a while and then realized that their chemistry was more conversational. They became “amazing friends.”

Not having known conservatives before, Sulkowicz had to play catch up. Early in their friendship, she asked him to recommend one book to help her understand him, and he picked Jonathan Haidt’s The Righteous Mind. It’s a book that explains, in evolutionary terms, the human tendency toward political tribalism and the importance, in light of that, of learning from one another’s beliefs. She calls the book “mind-opening.” Its resonance with her new friendship did not escape her.

Shortly after, Sulkowicz attended a book talk of Haidt’s. This was for The Coddling of the American Mind, which diagnoses the campus left with the kinds of cognitive distortions that addle the chronically anxious and depressed: a tendency to blow everyday problems out of proportion, or to believe that one’s negative feelings reflect reality. This book kicked a hornet’s nest on the left, and when Haidt learned that Sulkowicz was at his talk, he didn’t assume she was a fan. “I expected her to be the sort of person who sometimes asks the angry question when I give lectures on campuses,” Haidt tells me. “And when I first saw her and she had blue hair, that fed my assumptions and expectations about what her views and values would be.” But Sulkowicz surprised him. “It changed the way I think about politics,” she said about The Righteous Mind, “and I wanted to thank you for it.” The two became friends.

Soon, she began attending house parties and happy hours with conservative and libertarian intellectuals, reading Jordan Peterson and articles from the National Review. In the past, Sulkowicz dismissed opposing views without understanding them, but now she sees intellectual curiosity as intertwined with respect: she wants to disagree with people on their own terms. This is an ethical position, but one with personal resonance. “I’ve always been upset,” she admits, “that there are people out there who assume that I’m a bad or mean person without ever having met me.” When she describes her political journey, she fixates on the experience of surprising people, of walking into a group who might otherwise dislike her and “disrupting their expectations.” At these parties, she reflects, “I can become fuller to certain people rather than staying the same caricature. I’m going from flat to round.”

- - -

A couple weeks after our lunch, Sulkowicz brings me to a book party at a dark bar on Bleecker Street. Here, she introduces me to her friend from Tinder, who asks that I not use his real name for this article. (It might be a distraction at his white-shoe law firm and, besides, “Emma is inured to online hate, but I am not.”) When he asks if he can choose his own pseudonym, I tell him sure. He picks Chad. It’s a reference to the incel term for men who, due to serendipitous genetics, are attractive enough to have oodles of sex. All of us laugh, but Sulkowicz laughs loudest, her voice tinkling, bell-like, and leaping between octaves.

Chad is a Chad, by the way, and he does “smell like Connecticut”: he has cornsilk hair, a shieldlike chest, and a jawline that an incel might show his surgeon for inspiration. But Chad is also a different kind of conservative than I imagined. Rather than a bowtie-sporting William F. Buckley type thumbing his nose at populism, he finds Reaganism laughably passé and aligns himself with Tucker Carlson’s anti-elite drive to regulate markets. He says that he would support some of Trump’s policy agenda, if only the president were competent enough to achieve it.

This party is for Robby Soave, a libertarian reporter on the snowflake beat whose new book, Panic Attack: Young Radicals in the Age of Trump, is — per Soave’s own description — “a book that is extremely critical of [Sulkowicz] and that I don’t wish her to read.” Soave met Sulkowicz a month or so before at another libertarian happy hour. Initially bewildered, he warmed to her, finding her to be inquisitive and even fun to talk to. “We exchanged contact information,” he tells me later, “and talked about maybe becoming, I guess, friends or something?” He laughs incredulously as he says this, sounding a bit on edge.

As Sulkowicz swirls around the party, her presence stirs an obvious question: whether this is performance art. Soave brings it up twice when we speak on the phone afterward, acknowledging the possibility that he’s being set up. While he’s inclined to believe that Sulkowicz is moved by earnest curiosity, he’s aware of her background in “elaborately planned performance art” and her reputation as a provocateur. Since graduating from Columbia in 2015, Sulkowicz has done around a dozen performances touching on issues like consent, anti-institutionalism, climate change, trauma, wellness, and female sexual desire. It’s natural to wonder if she’s currently breaking bread with this crowd to lampoon civility politics or to expose views she hates. Honestly, it might be harder to believe that she’s simply trying to learn.

But Sulkowicz is adamant that this isn’t performance. In fact, she insists that she’s quitting art altogether. After one of our lunches, she bikes off to return the keys to her studio, which she’s emptied and swept clean. “For many years,” she explains, “I wasn’t interested in listening to other points of view. I was very emotional and making performance-art pieces that were very reactionary and fiery.” Without disowning them, she describes these artworks as something she “got out of her system.”

Having found the art world humorless, narrow-minded, and grotesquely competitive, Sulkowicz says she stopped making art about a year ago. She quit a fellowship at a museum, ceased teaching art classes, and was essentially unemployed for a time, drawing income from occasional speaking gigs, mostly about campus sexual assault. (Her remarks on Me Too have been fewer; she supports it, but wants a clearer path to forgiveness.) She has been working on a memoir that draws on her diaries from Mattress Performance, and last month, she started a full-time, four-year master’s program in traditional Chinese medicine. There, she’ll learn skills from acupuncture to herbalism, which have been her “personal healing modality” for years. Sulkowicz has parried assumptions that this is performance art, too. It grates on her. “I’m a human and humans can change,” she says, insistently. “I’m telling you that I don’t want to make art anymore.”

But in some ways, it’s easier to assume that Sulkowicz’s political posture is performance art: this provides a clear motive, one that’s politically straightforward. If Sulkowicz is not making art, then it’s much harder to grasp why she’s doing this and what it means. Part of the confusion, Sulkowicz assumes, springs from a pervasive misunderstanding about who she is, rooted in the dissonance between her public image and private consciousness. While many assume she’s at Soave’s book party for some admixture of art and progressive politics, Sulkowicz says she’s mostly there for fun.

[keatonphjo076]

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This short article illustrates exactly how nonspecialists made use of Google Planet ™, a complimentary program, to produce community maps. In 2006, Google Earth started supplying detailed photos of identified areas in Israel. Likewise revealed was the supposed headquarters of Mossad, Israel's foreign knowledge solution, whose area is extremely categorized. The Google Earth API was a cost-free beta solution, enabling individuals to place a variation of Google Planet right into websites.

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[butterjinwoo]

That little baby boy who has grown up.

I realize that I want to remember this cute dream for my whole life time, so i will write it here as imagine story ^^

Main character :

Jinjin as boyfriend, Sanha as our forever little baby boy.

I'm taking the same fashion design class with Sanha because my boyfriend, Jinjin, asked me to always keep protecting Sanha. Yes, Jinjin loves his little boy so much, he adores Sanha a lot because Sanha is the cutest creature in this whole world.

Sanha registered to a couple contest. Of course, Jinjin asked me to attend every Sanha's stage. Does Jinjin attend it too? Nope, he is quite busy lately because he needs to take care of his other brothers and he's been into his composing lately.

Lets go back to Sanha's stage. I was there every time he's on stage. I look at him like how an older sister look at her little brother. Yes, Sanha always shows his awesome stage with the girl beside him. Who is that girl? She was Sanha's partner in that stage. That girl seems quite into sanha too ㅋㅋ

Everytime after Sanha finished his show, he will come to my seat and calls me with his cute voice. Does he calls me noona? Nope, he won't. He is super stubborn, but I still love him eventhough he is stubborn.

---

There's a day on his final stage, I was a bit worried but still feeling so excited. I watched his whole performance. He performed with the girl who looks so good with him. And when his result came out, I became more nervous. Sanha won The Best Guy award but he didn't get The Best Couple award. The girl got 2nd rank as Best Lady, so they can't be the best couple. I was a bit afraid that he will disappointed about himself. He came to me with his widest smile. I was bit confused. I asked him "are you okay?" He replied "why? of course I am okay, look at my trophy! Its so shining! I love it!" Yes, I can see how happy he was that moment, but then I asked him again "but the best couple award..." He replied directly before i finished my sentence "I am okay, you are here tho". I was still confused then suddenly he asked me to go to have lunch with him.

We sat at the canteen, waiting for our foods to be served. Then he suddenly wanted to see my wallet. "Can I see your wallet?". "Of course, here". I passed him my wallet and he opened it. He looked at the photos I put inside my wallet. There's a lot of Jinjin's photos but I kept one photo of Sanha, the super cute one. You know, he is like a little baby to me.

Suddenly he smiled so wide and gave back my wallet. I guess he was the happiest kid that day.

Out of nowhere, the girl who was on stage with Sanha came to our table. She got angry. "Oh, so this is your reason why you didn't try to get that best couple award, you have your woman that you don't want to hurt her feelings!" She yelled at Sanha. I'm shocked. I mean, I understand if she's upset because she didn't get any award. But she shouldn't got mad at Sanha. It wasn't Sanha's fault tho. Then she just left our table.

Sanha kept silent. Then I asked him, "what happened to her? why she is so angry with you?"

"I know that she has feelings for me, that's why I didn't fight for best couple award", he replied, carelessly.

I was quite upset about this fact. Sanha was being so selfish.

---

Day by day passed, Jinjin was still so busy with his deadline, and Sanha became so close to me lately. He always looked for me and went with me almost everyday.

Sanha promised to drive me home. That day Sanha kept his promise by driving me home before he went back to his dorm. But when I got into his car, that girl showed up, again.

This time she didn't scold Sanha. SHE SCOLDED ME!

"You. You shouldn't take the boy who I love! You should leave him!" I was so confuse. What? Taking the guy she loves? She means Sanha?

"I.." I started to speak but suddenly Sanha cut my words "What? Taking the one you love? Are you crazy? She's my noona. I am the one who decide to get close with her!"

She felt so ashamed and she left us. Then Sanha hugged me "Its okay. Its okay", he said.

"Actually I understand why she is so upset. She loves you, but you are so close to me." I told Sanha.

That hug felt so warm. He drove me home. But that moment kept me thinking about him a lot.

---

The next day, we attended the design class. But I didn't sit next to Sanha. He sat in front. I was trying to concentrate but I can feel that Sanha keeps glancing at me. I felt bad, so I scrolled through my tabs to see the designs that I was going to learn that day.

"You should focus on your work, young man!" Suddenly the instructor talked to Sanha. It broke the silence in the class. I felt like this is not right at all. I can't concentrate and Sanha too. I felt like Sanha won't focus if I was there.

"Excuse me, sir! I'm sorry, but can I leave class for today? I need to go home for some reasons", I asked the instructor.

"Its okay, you may leave, but don't forget to sign your attendance paper", he replied. I packed my stuffs to small luggage for our fashion design class, I went straight to fill my attendance paper, then I left without looking back.

I just went but Sanha chased me. "Nop!!" He called me seriously. I didn't even look back to him. He ran with the clothes he designed in his hand. Since he hadn't sew it well, the buttons fell to the ground. Eunwoo was there too, he chased Sanha and he picked up all the buttons on the floor.

I looked back at him, "why are you chasing me? You can't concentrate at class, how if you get bad score? What should I tell Jinjin later?" I asked him, quite upset because he chased me.

"Why its always Jinjin hyung?" He asked me back. He was quite angry back then. I can see his face turned red that time.

"He's him. No other reason. Go back to your class or I will splash this water to you!" I was so mad, I raised my voice to scold him.

"Do it!", he yelled. I was about to splash him, but then he started to talk again "I always look at you, I keep my attention on you, for a long time. But you always go with Jinjin hyung! Why its always Jinjin hyung! You use his photo as your phone's wallpaper. You have his photos on your wallet. Why? I saw a picture of mine on your wallet, I was so happy. I think I have chance. I have feelings for you! I won't go back, if you want to splash the water. Do that!"

I was so shocked. I dropped my water bottle. The water spilled everywhere. He came to me and hugged me, again. "I'm sorry for being selfish, but my feelings can't lie".

I was so confuse, what should I tell my boyfriend about this little boy? I patted his back, I hugged him back, as a noona. But I did really need to tell Jinjin about this. I didn't feel like this is right. I cried then I left Sanha with Eunwoo. Eunwoo was still quiet watching us.

---

I went to Jinjin's place. I texted him on my way to his place. He can feel like there's something strange. But he waited for me to arrive at dorm. I told him everything when I arrived at his place. He listened to me patiently until I finished all my story. He rubbed my shoulder, "I know Sanha's feelings, I can see it clearly, but he's still a little boy", he said. I agreed with him about Sanha is still a little boy, but what should we do now? I was clueless.

He took my wallet. He took out his own photos and filled my wallet with Sanha's photos. I was still wondering what will he do later.

Sanha came back to dorm. He found me there, it was a bit awkward.

Then Jinjin asked Sanha to join us on dinner. And Sanha agreed. We went out for dinner. After we finished our meal, Jinjin started to talk about this.

"Sanha-ya, you know that noona really loves you, and hyung too. But we love you like you are our baby, our maknae, here.." he showed Sanha my wallet that filled with Sanha's photos. "We love you in a different way, you can look for us when you need everything, okay?" Jinjin patted Sanha's head. I can see Sanha's tears on the edge of his eyes. Jinjin explained with his softest words I have ever heard. He will never hurt his baby boy. I knew how much he loves Sanha, but its impossible to let Sanha be with me too. Sanha nodded a little. He hugged me without any words. I patted his back. "Thank you, hyung. I'm sorry", he said that to Jinjin while hugging me. I can feel his tears dropped to my skin. "Its okay, Sanha-ya. Nothing will change our love for you", I said to him.

-End-

Ps. I'm so sorry for my bad english ^^ its just my short dream, i wrote it here to remember this cute but a bit sad dream. Enjoy! ^^

[transdonaldduck]

Parenting 101

Fandom: Ducktales 2017 Authors note: OC-centric, some backstory for Nancy and Donalds friendship! Word count: 3000 ish

Summary: Nancy Pluckley meets Donald Duck at the community center, in room 5B, during a free parenting seminar. Things get better.

Her car is a cobbled together pickup truck her grandpa gave her two years before she turned sixteen and one year before he passed away in his sleep. There’s duct tape holding on the bumper from where she knicked the wall at the mcdonalds drive through and there’s so many stickers slapped on the back it might as well be considered a driving hazard for those behind her. She’d had it for four years now, though, and she never wanted to give it up, even as it whines and sputters and groans and attracts all sorts of attention as she pulls into the nice and tidy beige building in front of her.

Here’s the thing about your parents dying suddenly and unexpectedly in a boating accident: no one really tells you how to raise the toddler they left behind. Yes, you may love her and you may want to do anything for her, but there’s no field guide to deal with trauma and grief and a 3 year old who still asks when mommy is coming to pick her up. So sometimes you have to scour the library for parenting books and look through you moms phone to find her pediatrician and even pull up to the community center in a beat up old truck you don't want to part with but know you have to because the car-seat won't fit in it properly to take a parenting class you desperately need. No one told you to do it, but you have to anyway.

She grabs the flyer from her glovebox, scanning the paper again to compare the time and date just to be sure she hadn’t gotten anything mixed up despite the fact that she’d tripled checked already before she hops out of her car. She feels almost ridiculously young, trailing into the room after couples holding hands and smiling all soft and pretty like at each other, probably all in their mid to early 20s, looking eager and prepared. None of them are carrying a college-ruled notebook or a pencil, she notes with slight embarrassment, shuffling her old school supplies under her arm. There's different tables set up around the room, a lot of the young couples are already hogging the front seats and Nancy can’t blame them for that, if she’d gotten here earlier she might have snagged one of those herself. Or any seat at all, since it seems she’d straggled so much she was left with slim pickings, hurrying to a seat near the back she practically fell into the chair, slapping her notebook in front of her and checking her phone the moment she could dig it out of her bag.

No notifications, which meant Evie was behaving so far. Evie- Evelyn- was her little sister, and Nancy had bartered with her coworker Amanda to babysit while she took this class. She’d cover her shift on Saturday morning in exchange for her looking after Evie for the night. Amanda didn’t usually ask for a favor in return for babysitting, but Nancy always liked to offer since Amanda and her wife both worked such different schedules, and if Nancy covered her shift this saturday it meant she and her wife would have some quality time together with their own child. Evie could be a handful sometimes, and Amanda had instructions to call if she got too much and Nancy would come pick her up- so no notifications was a good sign. Hopefully.

She jumps about a foot in the air when the man next to her says something- she can’t really understand it, smiling at him nervously as she tries to decipher what he just said.

He must read it on her face because she offers her a tired smile and clears his throat, obviously taking extra time to try and enunciate, “Is this your first class?”

“Oh! Oh, um, yes.” She nods, smoothing down invisible imperfections on her notebook with an awkward laugh.

He’s an older gentleman, maybe early thirties or late twenties at the youngest, his head feathers are cut short and choppy as if he’d done it himself, and he’s got a kind looking face- and he looks tired, bags underneath his eyes, and even his smile seems thin and weary around the edges, but there’s this brightness in his eyes that Nancy almost envies. He looks worn out but happy, almost. A single father? “You seemed nervous, is all.” He explains, “Are you expecting?”

“Ah, no,” She shakes her head and feels her bun bobble with her, “It’s- My parents-” She sighs, “I was kinda… thrown into this whole... parenting thing. I’m taking care of my little sister, she’s 3.”

He nods as if things like this happen all the time, “I know the feeling, after my sister passed I took in her kids, they’re triplets- oh!” He fumbles through his pockets, pulling out his phone to show her pictures, “They’re 7 now, about to be 8. Huey, Dewey, and Louie.” He points to them each individually. It’s a class photo, the other children cropped out so it’s only his 3 kids all smiling at the camera and color coded red, blue, and green.

She slides her phone over to him and shows him her lock screen, “This is my sister, Evelyn. This photo is from a year ago when I took her to the state fair so it’s kind of old, but it’s one of my favorites.”

“She’s so small!” he coos, “I remember when the boys were that small! She’s 3 now, you said? You must have your hands full with a toddler.”

Sliding her phone back she shrugs, “I haven’t been taking care of her for very long, I guess I haven’t had the full experience yet. She still thinks this is a long sleepover and that our parents will come pick her up soon.”

His eyes soften, “I’m sorry for your loss.”

He’s startlingly sincere, and she blinks at him before realizing she needs to respond, “Thank you, uh..?” she realizes halfway through she’d never caught his name.

“Donald Duck.” He introduces, “And you are?”

“Nancy Pluckley, It was nice meeting you.” with the conversation coming to a natural close, Nancy fiddles with her notebook, and checks her phone again. The instructor seemed to be running late.

“So…” She starts and he turns to look at her, “We’re in kinda the same boat. How long have you been taking care of your nephews?”

“Since before they hatched,” It looks like it hurts him to think about and Nancy immediately regrets asking.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to pry.” She rushes out, tucking loose hair behind the edge of her beak, “I’ve just never had someone who… gets it.”

“It’s alright, I don’t mind. It still hurts but I’ve mostly moved past it.” He smiled encouragingly at her, “Did you have anything you wanted to ask? I’ve gone through it all three times over.”

She spits it out before she can think twice, “Does it get better?”

“Oh, Nancy.” He says immediately, wincing at her and she drops her eyes to the table, suddenly very interested in the vulgar words scratched into the surface. She hears him take a deep breath, as if bracing himself, and then- “Yes, it gets better.” She jerks up, looking at him with wide eyes, “And that kind of sucks, And then it gets better again.” He admits.

Frowning, her eyebrows knitted together and she flattens her hands on the table, “What?”

“For me the hardest part… well, the grief was hard. Convincing myself to let go of the hope she would come back was harder, but I did it, and I raised her children even though it kind of felt like I wasn’t enough- and it was better… and then realizing I was doing an alright job… I’d replaced their mother, and that sucked.” it’s his turn to look down at the table, “and then it got better.” He says simply.

“But what if it never gets better? What If I feel like i’m not enough because it’s true?” She says miserably, running a palm through her hair.

Donald shrugs a little bit, leaning back in his chair, “Well… At least you’re there.”

She jolts, staring at him with wide eyes.

“I know, It’s kind of dark,” he says uneasily, “But take solace in the fact that you’re there, and that your sister has someone taking care of her who loves her with all her heart. You’re going to make mistakes, everyone does, but as long as you love her and do your best to raise her… she’ll turn out alright.”

“Also, if you can afford it, some therapy to deal with your grief in a healthy way will do wonders for your parenting.” He tacks on.

Dutifully, Nancy flips open the notebook and jots that down- he snorts out a startled chuckle and reaches over and takes the pen from her hand, scrawling his phone number in the margins of her paper, “text me if you need anything, Nancy. Maybe we can get the kids together for a play date! I’ll tell Louie not to involve Evelyn in any scams.”

Nancy huffs out a laugh, “I’d appreciate that.”

The instructor sweeps in right about then, tossing out apologies for her tardiness before the class starts in full swing. Nancy feels a little less silly about her notebook when she catches Donald making his own notes in his phone. The time seems to fly by and before she knows it, they’re being dismissed- it had been an informative class, and now she has a better grasp on the upcoming developmental milestones Evie was going to be hitting soon. She knew what to expect, and that was going to make all the difference- and Amanda hadn’t called about Evie all night, which meant she was being very good!

Nancy gathers up her things and bids a quick goodbye to Donald, eager to go pick up her sister- but when she goes to crank her car, there’s no roaring hum that lets her know her rust bucket is even trying to turn over. She tries a few more times, even lifts the hood to check out the engine with her limited knowledge- but it just looks like the whole thing has gone kaput.

Amanda's car was in the shop which meant she couldn’t come pick her up, and all her other friends couldn’t babysit because they were busy tonight… which meant she was stranded.

Unless…?

She flips open her notebook at stares at the number, hesitant to call. He’d seemed nice enough during class, but what kind of guy gives a girl half his age his number within 5 minutes of meeting her? It was getting dark fast, and Nancy decided she was willing to take the risk. It’s not like it would be any more dangerous than walking home, right? And he might not even say yes anyway.

She puts the number into her phone and, after one last moment of deliberation, calls him.

“Hello?” His voice isn’t easier to understand over the phone, but she’s used to it by this point.

“Hey, is this Donald? This is Nancy, from the parenting class.” She stalls, scuffing her flats on the asphalt, “Um, what’s up? Are you doing anything tonight?”

There’s a bewildered pause from his side, “Nancy, um, don’t take this the wrong way, but I’m not… you’re a teenager and I'm way too old- I don’t like you like that. You’re not my. type.” he says awkwardly, obviously struggling to word it so he doesn’t hurt her feelings.

She slaps a hand over her face, flushing from embarrassment- well, at least now she could be relatively confident he wasn’t a creep, “No! No- My car won’t start, and if it… wasn’t a huge imposition, I was wondering if I could have a ride? Just to my friends house, it’s not far at all!”

There’s another long pause, “...I don’t really know you all that well.” He says hesitantly.

“Yeah… that’s, um, fair.” She leans back against her truck and blows out a breath, “I’m sorry to bother you, I’ll just walk.”

“At this time of night?” He balks and she can hear the sound of his turn signal.

“Yeah, well, I can’t afford a cab.”

“I’ll come pick you up.” he tells her, “I’m only a minute or two away.”

She looks around in the dark, “I think I'm the only one still here, you’ll be able to see me.”

“Stay on the phone with me until I get there?”

Nodding, she gets back into her truck, “Yeah, thank you, I was starting to get a little nervous.”

“And you were going to walk…” He chides and sounds so much like a dad it makes her a little upset it’s not her dad on the other side.

The station wagon he pulls up in is almost as beat up as her truck, and it’s got wood panelling on the side that actually makes her snort at how dated it looks. It’s a bit dinged up as if he’s been on the wrong side of several fender benders and there’s obviously been some work done on the drivers side door, two slightly different colored ugly teal paints layered over each other in a patchwork paint job. He hangs up as she opens the drivers side door and shakes his head, holding his hand out to stop her.

“Go take a picture of my license plate and send it to your friend.”

“What?” She says blankly, not following.

“Everytime you get into a car with a stranger- and please let this be a one off sort of deal, alright?- take a picture of their license plate and send it to someone you trust. It’s a safety precaution.”

She does as she’s told, snapping a picture of it and sending it to Amanda with a quick text explanation before rounding her way back to the passenger seat, “Is there… a reason I needed to do that..?” She asks.

He shrugs a little, waiting for her to get in, “It’s a good habit to get in, it’s something I tell everyone to do if it's there first time riding with me.”

“Why?”

“I’ve been kidnapped a few times.” He says it as if he’s telling her about the weather, “doing that would have saved me a lot of trouble.”

She stares at his with big eyes before all the pieces suddenly fall into place, “Oh.” She breathes, “You’re that Donald Duck.”

Immediately he looks uncomfortable, shoulders hunching, and his eyes cut sharply to the road, looking straight ahead, “...Yeah. That Donald Duck…”

She gets in, strapping her seatbelt and wisely drops the topic, “So Amanda's address is-”

There's a long silence, broken only by his GPS barking out directions.

“Sorry about everything that happened to you.” She finally bursts out, quickly hiding the fact that she’d just been scrolling through his wikipedia page. He smiles a little but it doesn’t reach his eyes and he offers her a small nod, “Um, if you don’t mind me asking, why were you even at that parenting seminar? Can’t you just afford to take an actual class?”

“You didn’t get very far on the personal life section of my wiki, did you?” she blanches, rubbing a hand through her hair, “I was disowned by my Uncle after my sister disappeared, we’ve been estranged ever since and I haven't seen him since the accident. I’ve been cut off from any financial aid from him.” he drums his fingers on the steering wheel, “I’ve been doing fine on my own, for the most part- I had a good amount of savings and I usually have a job. Baby sitters are costing me a fortune though.”

Nancy groans in solidarity, “Tell me about it! Sometimes my friends will watch her, but when everyones busy and I need to work I have to get a babysitter too.”

“Here’s some advice- when she’s old enough, sign her up for junior woodchucks. They’ll usually have an after school program that runs that’ll give you some time to finish up your shift or go shopping before you need to pick her up. There are also older kids trying to earn their caretaker badges- screen them and you’re good to go on a free babysitter for the night.”

“You’re like a wizard.” She admires, crossing her arms.

He rolls his eyes, “Please don’t say that within earshot of my Uncle.”

“What’s he got against wizards?”

“Everything.” Donald says, pulling up at the curb to Amanda's house, “Here we are.”

She nods a little bit, “Listen, um, thank you, Donald. I was in a tight spot back there. If you ever need something, I owe you one.”

He waved her off before she even finishes her sentence, “Not necessary,” He dismisses her offer simply, “I know how it is. You still have my number, right? You Can call if you ever need anything.”

“Yeah… just. Thanks again.” She gets out then, closing the door behind her and backing away. She waves at him a little bit before she finally turns around and heads inside.

Evie screams her name the moment she opens the door and then dive-bombs off the couch and into her arms. Nancy laughs and thanks her quick reflexes that she didn’t drop her, swinging her around a little bit.

“Glad you’re not murdered.” Amanda laughs a little bit, putting down her book, “How’d it go? Is he cute?”

“Ew, he’s like, 40.” Nancy giggles, carrying Evie to the couch, “And he wasn’t a weirdo, either.” She tosses her onto the cushions, “Why don’t you go get your stuff ready, boog? Miss Janie will be home soon and then Miss Amanda will be able to take us home.”

“Don’t say ew! I’m 40 and I am not ‘ew!’” Amanda admonishes as Evie runs off.

Nancy isn’t sure why she doesn’t divulge Donalds true identity, it just seems… rude to tell. Regardless, she’s pretty sure she might actually take him up on his offer to set up a play date between Evie and the triplets. It was nice talking with someone who really understands her situation.

And if she can wring some single-parent advice from him, well, she’ll take what she can get.

[omgjasminesimone]

The Hot Exchange Student Part 3

Logan x MC (Ellie)

Previous Part: Part 2

Next Part: Part 4

Author’s Note: This is longer than usual, and I didn’t get as far as I originally wanted to. Hopefully you guys like the longer length! One last RoDAW entry!

Summary: Logan is an exchange student from Detroit a month into his exchange program in L.A. Tensions rise with his detective host father as Logan becomes involved in L.A.’s criminal underbelly, while simultaneously becoming romantically involved with the detective’s daughter.

Word Count: ~4000

For a few moments no one speaks, a silent showdown. Mr. Wheeler is looking at his daughter with his ‘I’m not mad, I’m disappointed’ face, but when his stare turns to Logan sitting beside her, his face reads, ‘I’m both mad and disappointed’.

“Where were you guys?” Detective Wheeler finally asks.

“A car show.” Ellie answers.

“I was unaware they had car shows at 11:00 PM on Saturday nights. Did you mean an illegal sideshow?” Detective Wheeler prompts.

Ellie sighs, her shoulders slumping. “Yes.”

Detective Wheeler nods. “Despite the fact that you guys are grounded, and you’re only supposed to leave the house for school or if you’re studying.”  

Ellie deflates further. “…Yes.” She answers when her father looks like he’s waiting for a response.

Detective Wheeler turns his gaze to Logan, who is sitting beside Ellie defiantly, not looking remorseful in the least. “Anything you want to say Logan?” Detective Wheeler asks, narrowed eyes informing Logan that he’s looking for an apology.

He doesn’t get one. “Just that the three week grounding for missing a 10:00 curfew seemed a little excessive to me. Ellie is a good person. You can loosen the leash a little bit.”

Ellie winces at that response. Her dad is going to explode.

The cold, calm anger Detective Wheeler speaks with next is more terrifying than the rare occasions when he’s yelled at her. “You’ve been very disrespectful since you got here Logan. We’ve had several conversations about it, and your behavior has not changed. I think you’re a bad influence on Ellie, and I really don’t like that. If you’re going to live under my roof, you’re going to follow my rules. Otherwise, you can leave my house and go back to Detroit early. Are we clear?”

This is the first time Detective Wheeler has actually threatened to kick Logan out of the house. Logan’s jaw clenches as he fights his desire to retort. He chances a quick look at Ellie before he nods. “Crystal.”

“Good. I also want to speak to your parents about your behavior.” Detective Wheeler adds, leaning back in his recliner.

Logan hesitates, taking a breath before he finally speaks. “I can give you my current foster father’s phone number if you really want it, but I can promise you he’s not going to care. And most of the time his phone doesn’t work because he spends his whole social security check on beer before paying the bill.” Logan reveals.  

Foster care. That explains a lot. The lack of belongings. His aversion to parental authority. His ‘situation’ in Detroit. Ellie feels bad for him, but she tries to fight down that feeling. She knows Logan well enough to know that he doesn’t want her pity. That’s probably why he never told her.

“I’d still like his number.” Detective Wheeler says, pulling out his address book while Logan goes through his phone to pull up his contacts. Logan recites the number, and Detective Wheeler writes it down. “I’ll call him tomorrow since it’s so late, even later Central time. You guys should get to bed too.”

Ellie looks at her dad suspiciously. That’s it? Ellie starts to get up, but then her father speaks again.

“By the way, you guys are grounded for another 3 weeks. And this time, I mean it.”

…

..

.

Ellie’s phone pings as she and Logan watch a movie on the couch, her head resting on his shoulder. She sits up to grab it from the coffee table. It’s a text from her dad.

Dad: Peace signs by the refrigerator.

“Logan, peace signs by the refrigerator.” Ellie reports, standing up and heading towards the kitchen. Logan follows behind her, hands in the pockets of his jeans.

“This is so stupid.” He complains as they pose for the selfie. Ellie sees he’s flipping a bird in her camera screen as she prepares to take the photo.

“Logan.” She admonishes, so he lifts his index finger as well to make the peace sign her father has requested.

To enforce his grounding when he’s away at work, Ellie’s father requests specific poses somewhere in the house. That way, he knows they’re home like they’re supposed to be. This is their last day of grounding, but it hasn’t been all bad.

Ellie has gotten a lot of studying done over the three weeks, and more importantly, she’s had a lot of quality time to spend with Logan. He’s more open with her now, since he’s not trying to hide his background anymore.

Logan told her that he was born in prison. That he doesn’t know who his father is. That his mom is still in jail for all he knows, they’ve never had any contact.

He told her about his current foster father, an alcoholic with 6 foster kids in a small three bedroom trailer. Logan shares a small bedroom with a 15 year old foster brother, who Logan simply describes as ‘troubled’. Despite this, he tells her it’s actually one of his better placements.

That’s why when his high school counselor told him about the opportunity for a full ride scholarship for the exchange program, he jumped on it.

 (“She’s straight out of college. So she’s not jaded yet, she still cares.” Logan scoffs, drawing skulls on the toes of his chucks as they hang out on the porch. “That won’t last long.”)

Another reason why the grounding hasn’t been all bad is because they’ve found creative ways to work around it. Ellie and Logan signed up for an after school SAT prep class, and Logan convinced her to lie to her father about what time it ends, giving them 2 hours of free time each day after school. Well, Logan has 4 hours of free time because he doesn’t actually go to the class. She’s not sure exactly what he’s doing, he’s very vague about it when she asks.

Ellie feels bad about lying, she didn’t habitually lie to her father before Logan got here, but she does enjoy those 2 hours with Logan. Sometimes, they go to the beach. Or that diner she loves with Riya and Darius. But usually, that time is dedicated to driving practice. Ellie really want to pass her license test.

Since they’re already in the kitchen, Ellie pops another bag of popcorn before they return to the couch. “Do you feel ready for your driving test tomorrow?” Logan asks, watching her instead of the cheesy horror movie.

“I think I am.” She smiles up at him. “You’ve taught me well.”

..

Hmm, what to wear. Ellie is looking for an outfit that says, hey, this girl is a competent driver who totally deserves a license. She settles on a denim skirt and a white shirt that hangs off her shoulders. She’s putting her long hair into her usual braid when Logan knocks.

“Hey troublemaker. Change of plans. I’m sorry, but I can’t take you to your test. Something important came up.” He takes in her outfit. “Wow, you look great.”

She’s too annoyed with him to be flustered at the compliment. “What do you mean you can’t take me? I can’t ask my dad and rescheduling with the DMV would be an absolute nightmare.”

“You can take the car, just drive yourself.” Logan underhand tosses her the keys.

She catches them with both hands, “But, I don’t have my license! It’s illegal for me to drive by myself.”

“Just don’t get pulled over on the way there and you’ll be fine. You’re definitely going to pass. Come here, good luck hug, not that you need it.”

She wants to ask him what he’s doing that’s so important, but she doubts he would tell her. So she just walks over and hugs him. He smells really good. Like, vanilla-y? She tightens her grip around his muscled chest, burying her face into his shirt.

“Text me when you’ve passed.” Logan says as he pulls away after one last squeeze.

She is even more of a stickler for the rules than she usually is as she drives to the DMV, cars behind her getting annoyed with her since she’s actually under the speed limit. But she doesn’t get pulled over, and when she finishes her test the instructor says she’s the best beginner he’s ever seen. She’s passed.

Ellie smiles for her new license photo, and once it’s printed she takes a photo of the freshly minted license and texts it to Logan. He replies right away.

Logan: congrats!!

Logan: knew u could do it troublemaker

Ellie: Thank you! I’m very excited, if you couldn’t tell from the big cheesy grin on my license photo. :D

Ellie: Where are you? I can come pick you up, we can get a celebratory late lunch/early dinner.

The three dots indicating that Logan is typing starts, stops, and then starts again as he probably writes and deletes a message.

Logan: I’m actually at a drive-in movie theater

Logan: come meet me troublemaker 😉

His next text includes an address on Rosecrans. Ellie plugs it into her phone and takes her first licensed solo drive.

..

Ellie wanders the parking lot on foot. Logan told her to park on the street (they charge by car), and that she’s looking for a white van. But there are a lot of cars here. She looks around helplessly, pulling out her phone to text Logan again.

“You lost, sweetheart?”

Ellie turns to see who would use sweetheart in such a condescending manner. She’s met with a boy who looks to be around her age, dark hair, even darker eyes, dressed in a leather jacket and carrying a tub of popcorn. He seems  familiar for some reason.

“Maybe a little lost. Logan’s directions were a little vague.” She admits.

“Aah, you must be Ellie. Logan said you were coming.” He looks her up and down. “What is a girl like you doing hanging out with a lowlife like Logan?” Before Ellie can say anything in Logan’s defense, the boy walks off. Ellie assumes she should follow him.

He stops in front of an old white cargo van, opening the sliding door. Inside there’s Logan, a man with long hair, prominent neck tattoos, and glasses, an extremely tall woman, and another woman with long black hair and a piercing gaze all resting on bean bag chairs in the back.

“Hey Ellie, you made it.” Logan says, taking her hand to help her into the van. “Ellie, this is Toby, Ximena, Mona, and Colt.”

Toby and Ximena both give her a welcoming smile, while Mona just looks at her appraisingly. “Take a seat Ellie! Or you’re going to miss the best part!” Toby warns, eyes returning to the screen.

Ellie squeezes onto Logan’s bean bag chair, leg flush against his. “How’d you meet your friends?” She asks Logan softly.

“I wouldn’t say they’re my friends. Just coworkers I get along with. Well, I don’t always get along with Colt. But he’s just visiting Kaneko over his Fall Break.” Logan answers.

Ahh, so that’s why Colt looked familiar, he’s Kaneko’s son. Ellie’s brow furrows as she goes over the rest of his statement. “Coworkers? You have a job?”

His eyes widen slightly at his slip up. He gives her a measured glance, as if he’s deciding how much he should tell her. “I’m doing some work for Kaneko.”

Ellie’s blood runs cold, remembering how everyone feared Kaneko. Knowing that whatever work Kaneko is offering is probably criminal. What has Logan gotten himself into? “What kind of work?” She presses.

“Shh you two! Blown Gasket is playing!” Toby chastises, looking at the screen raptly during a car chase scene.  

Ellie shuts up, but not before giving Logan a look that clearly says the discussion isn’t over.

Colt scoffs at Toby’s enthusiasm. “Calm down Toby. You’ve only seen this stupid movie fifty times.”

“No one forced you to come Kaneko Jr.” Mona retorts, not even bothering to turn away from the screen to look at Colt.

“My dad wanted everyone out of the garage while he does whatever he’s doing, especially me.” Colt replies.

Logan leans over slightly to whisper in Ellie’s ear, not wanting Toby’s wrath. “Does your dad know where we are?”

“I just told him we’re out with friends. We’re not grounded anymore, so he was fine with it.” Ellie whispers back.

Half an hour later, Ellie finishes the last of the popcorn in the extra large tub. She starts to put the empty tub down on the floor, when Ximena interjects. “Nuh uh sweetie. Whoever finishes it gets the next refill.”

Toby gives Ellie a $100 bill. “Does anyone have anything smaller?” Ellie asks, standing from the bean bag chair and heading for the door.  

“Nope.” Mona responds, opening the door for Ellie.

Ellie is walking across the lot towards the concession stand when suddenly someone steps in front of her, blocking her path. Ellie looks up and is met with Salazar’s smirking face. “I can’t believe it, real nice of you to join us.” Salazar sneers.

“Salazar…” Ellie mumbles, dropping the popcorn bucket and turning around to head back to the van when Salazar steps towards her menacingly. Ellie’s escape path is cut off by the same four goons who had accompanied Salazar when he lost the race.

“I heard the Mercy Park Crew was hanging around here, came to see for myself.” He spits out when he reaches her. Mercy Park Crew? Ellie has no idea what he’s talking about. “Your boyfriend owes me money for what he did, lots of it.”

“You lost the race. You both agreed on the terms.” Ellie mutters weakly, looking around for a possible escape but finding nothing.

“I don’t remember him stealing the opportunity I had with Kaneko being one of the terms. I worked hard to build respect in the streets, to make a name for myself, and now some punk kid shows up and gets everything handed to him? That’s bullshit.” He turns to the biggest goon. “Grab her. He’ll pay to get her back.”

“No!” Ellie tries to fight off the heavily tattooed man gripping her arm roughly, but he’s twice her size so she doesn’t stand a chance.

“Get away from her. You got a problem with me, you leave her out of it.” Logan’s voice has a dangerous edge to it that Ellie has never heard before. The goon looks to Salazar, waiting for a small nod, before releasing her.

Ellie quickly retreats to Logan’s side, and he gently pushes her behind him. Salazar smirks, eyeing Logan venomously. “Now it’s a party.”

The goons close in, encircling Logan. Logan clenches his fists, gearing up for a fight.

“No, Logan! You can’t fight them five on one. We need to run.” Ellie reasons.

He briefly turns to look at her, his gaze hard. “You need to run. Now.” He swings his fist at the nearest goon, rocking his jaw.

That goon goes down, clutching his jaw, but one of the others cries “Get him!”, and the remaining goons and Salazar attack all at once. Ellie doesn’t run as instructed, instead she looks on worriedly as Logan fights like an animal, punching, grappling, slamming.

Her heart hurts a little as she wonders where he learned to fight like this. Was it a particularly abusive group home? Out on the streets of Detroit? He holds his own for a while, but eventually he can’t fend them all off and they get him down to the ground.

“You piece of shit.” Salazar sneers, kicking Logan hard in the ribs, again, and again. Ellie can’t take anymore, so she grabs a forgotten pipe on the asphalt as she runs towards the melee.

“Stop it!” She cries, swinging as hard as she can into Salazar’s back. He topples over with a grunt.

Salazar glares at her. “You little bitch.” Logan takes advantage of Salazar being momentarily preoccupied, kicking straight into one of the goon’s chin. He falls with a yelp. But another goon grabs Ellie, throwing her roughly into a car door. Ellie feels a searing pain from her forehead, raising her hand to grasp at it. When she brings her hand back down, there’s blood on her palm. “Nnh.” She mutters weakly, putting both hands to the asphalt in an attempt to get back to her feet.

“Ellie!” Logan exclaims. He’s covered in bruises, but he tries to push himself up anyway. He is quickly beaten back down.

Salazar gets to his feet, dusting himself off. “You don’t know who you messed with.” He threatens, readying to stomp down on Logan.

Suddenly, a razor sharp knife flicks to Salazar’s throat, Mona appears behind him with Toby, Colt, and Ximena, all looking very threatening. Ellie is surprised Toby can pull off such a menacing look.

“Do you?” Mona asks, allowing the blade to dig in a little more. Salazar lowers his foot, putting his hands up, knowing he’s been beaten. “Don’t show your faces here again.” Mona threatens, shoving Salazar away. Salazar glares at Ellie and Logan one more time before stalking away, his injured goons following behind him.

Colt offers Logan a hand up. “You’re pretty lucky I saved your ass, huh? Pshh…and dad thinks you could replace me.”

Logan ignores Colt’s hand, getting up on his own. “Funny, I don’t feel too lucky right about now. Where’s Ellie?”

“Logan!” Ellie runs to the group, taking Logan’s face into her hands and gently examining the bruising, the worst of it around his right eye, which is swollen shut. He smiles weakly at her, apologetically. Ellie sighs, gently rubbing her thumb on his cheek. “We need to get you home Logan.”

She turns towards the others. “Thank you for saving him.”

Colt smirks, crossing his arms over his chest. “Consider it Mercy Park Crew community service.”

…

..

.

“Ellie? Logan?” Her dad’s voice carries from the kitchen as Ellie opens the front door and the door alarm chimes shortly.

“Hey Dad, we’re home.” Ellie calls back, trying to tug Logan up the stairs before her dad sees his bruises, which will no doubt lead to questions they’re unprepared to answer.

“Dinner is almost ready!” Her dad calls back. The smell of his home made spaghetti permeates the air.

“Okay! We’ll be down shortly!” Ellie yells from the top of the stairs, pulling Logan into his room. She pulls the door almost closed behind them, leaving it open just a crack. That’s another one of her dad’s rules, she and Logan aren’t allowed to be in a room together with the door closed.

Ellie pulls the first aid kid from the closet. “Sit.” She commands, so Logan takes a seat on his bed. Ellie turns the lamp beside the bed on, bathing Logan in its soft glow. For the first time she sees how badly injured he is. She sighs, taking a seat beside him. “You shouldn’t have gone through all that trouble for me.”

“What are you talking about? They never would have gone after you if it wasn’t for me. So yes, I did” Logan insists. Ellie tenderly touches Logan’s face, and he tries to hide his wince, but she sees it. He places his hand over hers before she can pull back. “I’m fine Ellie. I’ve been in worse fights. They only got a few licks in.”

They clearly got more than a few licks in, but Ellie doesn’t argue with him. Instead, she opens the first aid kit. She remembers watching Salazar kick him in the ribs, knowing they’re probably seriously injured. “Can you take off your shirt?” She asks softly.

He peels off the white t-shirt, wincing a little at the movement, and tosses the shirt to the floor. He keeps the spark plug necklace he’s always wearing on.

She’s felt how toned he is when they’ve hugged, but it’s an entirely different experience to see all his taut muscles exposed in the low light of the lamp. But before she can become too distracted by his amazing body and six pack abs, she notices the dark purple bruising all over his sides. And beneath that, the scars from the car accident he told her about when he was teaching her to drive, making her promise to always be in control.    

Ellie grabs the peroxide from the kit and dabs it on a long gash running down his collarbone. “Fuck, that stings.” Logan complains, squeezing his eyes shut as he tries not to pull away from her.

“I’m sorry.” She apologizes, placing a soft kiss to the tan skin near the gash without even thinking about it. But she notices his soft intake of breath and realizes what she just did. She slowly raises her gaze to meet his.

Something electric passes between them, and then Logan’s eyes go up further, to the cut on her forehead. He pushes her hair out of her face and traces it, his touch gentler than she could ever expect from the same boy she saw just a half hour earlier fighting the goons so viciously.

“You’re hurt.” He observes.

“I’m fine. You’re the one who’s hurt.” She retorts, knocking his hand aside and getting back to her task of bandaging up the cut.

He shakes his head softly, watching her as she starts to bandage up his ribs. “You should have run Ellie. Why didn’t you run like I told you to?” Logan admonishes.

“I couldn’t just leave you there Logan.”

“You have to. You have to be able to leave me Ellie. Otherwise…” He trails off, turning away from her.

“Otherwise what? Logan?” When he still doesn’t respond, she puts both hands on his face and forces him to make eye contact. “What are you trying to tell me Logan?” She asks softly, looking deeply into his brown eyes.

Suddenly, he surges forward, lips capturing hers in a searing kiss.

Oh my God, he’s kissing her. She’s having her first kiss. She’ll have to call Riya later, her long-time best friend will want to know about this. Logan’s hands tangle in her hair, tilting her head as he attempts to deepen the kiss. Ellie doesn’t know what to do with her hands, she starts to put them on his strong bare shoulders, but chickens out at the last moment and let’s them fall back to her sides.

Wait, he’s licking at her lips now. Does that mean something? Does he want her to open her mouth? Is she ready for that? What if she’s a bad kisser? Is she totally embarrassing herself?  

Logan pulls away from her lips, resting his forehead against hers as both of their eyes open. “You’re overthinking this.”

“I overthink everything.”

Logan smiles softly at that response, giving her a quick peck. “Just relax. Do what feels natural. Trust me Ellie, there’s nothing you can do that I won’t like.” He closes his eyes and kisses her again, and Ellie takes his advice. She doesn’t think, she does what feels natural. Ellie’s hands trail up his arms to loop around his neck, pulling herself closer to him. He opens his mouth, and because of the way their wet lips are staggered, her mouth opens too, allowing him to slip his tongue in.

It’s an unfamiliar sensation, but she decides she likes it. She tentatively circles his tongue with her own, and he hums appreciatively. Despite his injuries, he pulls her onto his lap, letting her straddle him. He pulls back to give her time to breathe, kissing down her neck and across her collar bone.  

She tangles her fingers in his hair. It’s as soft as she always imagined it would be. Logan’s name escapes her lips on a breathy sigh as he sucks on her collar bone, marking her. He returns to her lips, kissing her more forcefully, hand pressed to her lower back to pull her even closer.

“Dinner!” Detective Wheeler calls from downstairs, causing the two teens to quickly spring away from each other, remembering where they are.

“We can’t let him see you like this. I’ll tell him you’re tired and skipping dinner. I’ll bring up your food later. Hopefully your eye will be less swollen tomorrow, we’ll put some concealer on your bruises.” Ellie plans out loud.

Logan smiles softly, really wanting to kiss her again. “Sounds like a plan troublemaker.” She turns to head downstairs. “Wait!” Logan calls out, reaching for her hand. He gently pulls her back to him and tugs her shirt up a little, covering the hickey forming on her collar bone. “Okay, you can go now.”

…

..

.

Taglist: @choicesarehard @ifyouseekheart @brightpinkpeppercorn @regina-and-happiness @choicelogansbitch @flyawayboo @fairydustandsarcasm @alesana45 @umiumichan @maxwellsquidsuit @lahelable @god-save-the-keen @mrsmckenziesworld @paisleylovergirl @iplaydrake @sinclaire-made-me-sin @hazah @lovehugsandcandy @desiree-0816 @cora-nova @justdani14 @lady-dianelewis @emceesynonymroll @emichelle @badchoicesposts @client-327 @riverrune @liamzigmichael4ever @princessstellaris

[heyyyharry]

Open Book

(from the Flatmate!Harry Series)

…in which Y/N meets a stranger in the library, and Harry’s got new problems to face.

Warning: mostly fluff and a bit of naughty texting, also this is the longest chapter so far I think so probably there’s a bunch of mistakes in here because I was too frustrated to edit. 😂

(I wanted to update my other series In Another Life before this but I accidentally deleted half of the third chapter of that series so yeah I’m just gonna update this first. This chapter is really long, I hope it’s not too confusing because it’s hard to write when the main characters are in two different locations and timezones. This motivates me to bring Harry home sooner (or maybe bring Y/N to Harry?). Anyway, enjoy and drag me if you must, my inbox is open!)

.

Y/N is one of the few people left in the library tonight. There’s an exam coming up so she plans to stay here until closing hour. Despite trying to focus on her text book, Y/N can’t help but notice the guy sitting two tables away has been staring at her ever since she sat down. He looks away whenever their eyes meet, it’s very obvious, but Y/N doesn’t care. She just wants to finish this chapter then comes home to call Harry.

It’s 8PM now, the library is closed so Y/N has to leave. She makes her way to the bus stop on her own, subconsciously thinking about Harry like she always does, until her thoughts are interrupted by the sound of someone else’s footsteps.

She’s not alone.

There’s this middle-aged man walking behind her. She speeds up, he speeds up, she slows down, he slows down. Y/N’s first thought is maybe she should call Harry, but then she remembers he’s living on the other side of the world now, he cannot be here to save her.

“Y/N!”

Y/N spins around immediately. Her eyes flicker with a light of hope when she sees the boy in the library walking towards her. The middle-aged man notices as well, then ends up quickly walking away. He cannot do anything to her now that a tall and strong young man suddenly appears.

“Are you okay?”

“I don’t know who you are and how you know my name but thank you for saving my life,” she says quickly in one breath, which makes the guy laugh in response.

“You left your notebook behind, your name was on it,” he tells her with a gentle smile and returns the notebook to its rightful owner. “That man was such a creep. Why are you walking home alone at night?”

“It’s okay, I do it all the time,” she assures him, but he shakes his head to disagree.

“You shouldn’t. To be honest I used the notebook as an excuse to talk to you but I’m glad I’d showed up before anything bad happened.“

Y/N is rooted to her spot for a brief moment, eyes wide, mouth agape, astounded. She’s not sure what to say after hearing that, being flirted with by a stranger is never her speciality.

“I—um…I’ve got a boyfriend,” she blurts out. The look on his face after that makes her cheeks turn red. “God, I’m sorry, I can’t believe I just assumed you were flirting I—”

“I was.”

“Sorry?”

“I was,” he repeats with a slight chuckle at her cute reaction. “But don’t worry, I respect that. I can’t say I’m not disappointed but it’s fine if you’re taken.”

“Thanks.” Thanks? Y/N’s inner self rolls her eyes, wondering why the hell would she even say something so dumb. “I should get going now.”

“Where do you live? I’ll drive you home.”

Y/N gives the boy a funny look as she reaches out to put a hand on his shoulder. “Don’t offer a stranger a ride! I could be a psychopath!”

“Well.” He shrugs. “What are the chances that we’re both psychopaths?”

“You expect me to get in the same car with you after that?” She squints her eyes at him, smiling a little bit.

As if just waiting for that, the guy takes out his ID from his wallet then hands it to her, trying not to laugh when he sees how surprised she is.

“You can take a photo of my ID and send it to any of your friends, maybe your boyfriend, so if something happens to you I’ll take full responsibility.”

“Wow, okay, I believe you, Ethan.” She reads the information on the card before putting it into the pocket of her jacket. “But…I’m keeping this until I get home safe.”

“Alright miss.” Ethan’s radiant smile is soon to reappear. “Shall we go?”

...

Harry’s whole face lights up when his girlfriend appears on the laptop screen. 

“Hi baby!” he says while rubbing the sleep from his eyes and asks her where she’s been.

“I told you I was studying at the library.” Y/N knows it’s wrong to tell your boyfriend only half of the story when she’s promised to never hide anything from him. But things are different now that he’s not here anymore, she can’t just tell him she was in danger when the guy who had been checking her out in the library came to save her and drove her home! He would freak out then spend the whole day worrying for sure!

“I forgot. Ugh, I’m so forgetful these days.” Harry furrows his eyebrows in frustration and it's upsetting for her to see how stressed he is.

“I know you’ve been working hard but don’t push your limits, H.”

Harry gives her an assuring smile. “I’m fine, baby. No need to worry about me.”

Harry actually loves his job and the fact that he’s learnt a lot in the past week working in the new environment. Everything is just great, well — almost everything.

“Let’s not talk about my job for now. Let’s talk about you.”

“About me?”

“Layla told me you wouldn’t come to her birthday party this weekend. She was so disappointed.” Harry scrunches up his face. “That’s Layla we’re talking about! I’ve been gone for only a week but I feel like I’ve missed a whole lot.”

Y/N giggles. “We’ve spent a lot of time together. She even called me her ‘friend’ by accident the other day! Isn’t it crazy?!”

“So why aren’t you going to her birthday party?”

“You know I get anxious around strangers.”

“But Layla’s gonna be there with you and Niall as well. Maybe you’ll have fun.”

“I just think that—“ Before Y/N can finish her sentence, the laptop shuts down immediately, along with all the electricity devices in Harry’s flat. This is the third time this week his power is cut off, and Harry can’t take it anymore. He decides to come banging on the door of the flat in front of his.

It takes a little while until his neighbor Hana shows up at the door, wearing only her dark blue bathrobe and nothing else underneath, probably just got out of bed. Her black hair is tied up in a bun and she’s got no make-up on but her skin is glowing. She looks radiant for someone who just woke up, in the meantime he probably looks like a walking dead.

“Harry!” 

Hana’s face lights up and Harry’s expression hardens when he snaps back to reality. Then he decides to just go straight to the point. “Why is there a power-cut in my flat?”

“Why are you asking me?" 

“Because your family owns this building or is it another one of your lies?”

“Here we go again...” Hana rolls her eyes, leaning her shoulder against the doorframe as she studies the stern look on his face. “I guess you’re still mad at me.”

“I only get mad at those I care about.”

“Ouch.” She furrows her eyebrows, resting one hand on her hip and watches his face contort. “Not telling the whole truth isn’t the same as lying, Harry.”

“Oh really?” Harry exhales a heavy laugh, which is not at all for humor. “Then why did you tell me you were still in university?”

“I told you I moved back here for university, I never said I was still in university. You just assumed that because I looked younger!”

Harry purses his lips, maybe this one is really his fault, not hers. Still who would’ve thought someone with a face like that could be five years older than him? ‘Asian beauty secrets keep me young,’ he remembers her saying that.

“Okay so you might not have lied about your age!” Harry shrugs, but this isn’t over yet. “However, you did kiss me without my consent, even when you knew you're not only the executive assistant for the firm I’m working for but also my assigned instructor!”

Hana facepalms herself. He had been ignoring her since he found out who she was. She tried to talk to him yet he refused unless it was work-related. So when Harry showed up at her door today, Hana thought it could be a good sign for their relationship, but apparently she was wrong.

“Alright, for the hundredth time,” Hana heaves a sigh as she clasps both hands together in front of her chest. “I apologize. When we kissed I didn’t realize you were that intern from London. Never would’ve done it had I known.”

Hana takes Harry’s silence as a sign to continue.

“And I’m sorry you’re stuck with me. The boss asked me to find you a place to stay, and my family just happened to have an empty flat available.”

“You expect me to say thank you or something?”

“No, I just want us to put this behind and be good neighbors.” She curves her lips into a smile and offers her hand as a friendly gesture. 

Though Harry’s still a bit irritated, he’s now less angry than before. So he decides to give her a chance and shakes her hand to get this over with.

"Now could you just have someone turn the power back on for me?” Harry pleads, but Hana gives him a shrug.

“Sorry it’s been like that for months now. You’re just gonna have to wait an hour or so.”

“Fuck!”

“You’re being grumpy, Harry. You could use that city tour I offered.” She puts a hand on his shoulder but he shrugs it right off. 

“No thank you,” he repeats the exact same thing he told her the last time. “I would like to keep our relationship strictly business.”

“Is your girlfriend back home jealous or something?” 

“Don’t bring my girlfriend into this.”

“So you do have a girlfriend.” Hana slightly chuckles, but Harry keeps a straight face still. “Don’t worry, I’m not flirting with you. Well—“ she suddenly pauses and tilts her head slightly to one side “—from now on.”

Harry wants to ask her what that’s supposed to mean, but before he’s got a chance, Hana shuts the door right in front of his face. 

…

“Y/N!” Layla shouts from the library entrance the moment she spots her friend. She ignores the grumpy librarian telling her to shush and just hurries toward the desk where Y/N’s sitting next to her new friend Ethan.

“Emergency!” She slams her hand down on the table in front of the startled pair, immediately gaining attention from everyone nearby and a warning dead glare from the librarian. Layla mumbles an apology then lowers her voice. “Niall’s coming to my fucking birthday party! So you’re going as well, no matter you like it or not!”

“Layla, I told you, pool parties just aren’t my thing.” Well, any kind of parties...

“I bet you said the same thing about Harry but now you’re fucking him.”

Y/N’s cheeks turn red as she looks down and Ethan just awkwardly rubs the back of his head. That’s when Layla finally notice his presence. 

“Who’s your new friend?”

“This is Ethan, the one I told you about. Ethan, this is Layla.”

“Oh the guy who saved you the other night!” Layla exclaims but Y/N gives her a look as a warning not to go too far with her jokes.

“Sweet Ethan, would you like to come to my party?” Layla bends over the table and rests her elbows on it, her chin on her knuckles, blinking her eyes teasingly at the confused guy. “Maybe Y/N would come if you do.”

Y/N opens her mouth to speak but Layla shuts her up right away. “You told me you didn’t want to be lonely there, so I got you someone, now you have to go.”

“You’re being manipulative, Layla.”

“Thanks.” Layla smirks before turning her attention back to the new boy. “I’ll leave you to think about it, but I’m counting on ya to convince her.”

“Layla—” Y/N sighs but her girl friend ignores that and just walks away from the desk without looking back. After Layla’s out of the library, Y/N turns back to Ethan and gives him an apologetic smile.

“Sorry about that, she can be a bit...overwhelming sometimes.”

“It’s okay.” Ethan chuckles. “If you want to go, I can go with you.”

“I don’t want to.”

“Why not?”

“I—” Y/N leaves her mouth open for two seconds as she tries to think of a better reason to avoid another social event. “I don’t think I’ll fit in. I...I tend to get anxious when I’m surrounded by many people I don’t know.”

“What about Layla?” Ethan raises an eyebrow at the girl whose eyes are on the text book in front of her. “Because she was practically begging for you to show up.”

“Layla—Well...I don’t know...I think she’s only hanging out with me because I help her with something, maybe she doesn’t actually like me.”

“So you’re afraid she’s only using you?”

“No...Uhm...Maybe? I honestly don’t know who to trust anymore, you won’t get it.”

Ethan lets out a slight laugh, then closes the novel in his hand and taps on the cover to get her attention.

“This is you,” he says, making her smile in confusion.

“A book?”

“A closed book!” Ethan raises a finger as he corrects her and Y/N immediately asks what he actually means by saying so. 

“You want people to know your story but you refuse to let them read you, because what if they don’t like you, right? What if they wrinkle the pages and tear the covers? So you stay on the shelf instead, watching other books get borrowed and become best sellers while wishing you were them.”

Y/N just stares at him with widened eyes. She’s not saying anything, not because she thinks he’s talking nonsense, but because the comparison is so spot on that it shocks her more than just a bit.

Ethan presses his lips to form a gentle smile as he continues, “Y/N, you want to make new friends, hang out with people like Layla, at the same time you hold yourself back because you think you’re too boring for anyone to like, which is wrong by the way. You’ve got to believe in yourself, love. How do you know you’re gonna fail if you don’t try?”

For that one second, Y/N swears she sees Harry in Ethan.

“Y/N,” he calls her name and she blinks a couple of times to snap back to reality.

“Yes Ha—uh Ethan?”

“I’ll go with you if you change your mind.” Ethan smiles at her, and she smiles back, before turning her eyes to the book under his palm. 

...

It’s 10PM and Harry’s still at the office, trying to finish proofreading these contracts and planning the executive’s meeting schedules for tomorrow. He’s not sure if it’s anything he said to Hana the last time he was at her door but she’s been a bit harsh on him ever since. She gave him extra tasks and didn’t try to talk to him like she normally would. It’s hard to admit but Harry kind of misses her constantly annoying him.

Ding. The notification on Harry’s phone gets his attention immediately. His girlfriend just sent him a new photo so he doesn’t hesitate to open the text. Harry almost chokes on air when he sees the photo of Y/N wearing a tight spaghetti-strap dress, which is so unlike her, and he doesn’t mean that in a bad way because she’s looking smoking hot. The message that goes with the photo is: Gonna be wearing this to Layla’s birthday :) x

Harry drops everything he’s doing to pick up the phone with both hands and types down a reply immediately: 

Is that a new dress???

No it’s Layla’s, she wanted me to wear it to her party. What do you think?

You look so sexy baby but I demand a photo with the dress off!

I’m on the bus!

I don’t mind getting you off in public ;) 

I hate you!

But I love you and I miss you and I’m horny and I need to touch you aaaaaah! I would fuck you while you’re in that dress, then again when you’re out of it.

A smirk displays on Harry’s face as he rubs his bottom lip with his forefinger, thinking about how red her face must be as she’s typing down a reply then deleting it because she’s embarrassed. She always gets so flushed and shy when he says stuff like that and that’s what turns him on. 

It takes a moment, but finally, her text arrives: 

I wish you were here.

Just by reading that one simple sentence, Harry almost wants to book a plane ticket and fly home with her instantly. He knew what he signed up for when he accepted the internship offer, he just didn’t think a long distance relationship would be this hard. 

Harry came to this foreign country on his own, not knowing anyone nor the language, then got an annoying neighbor who’s also his superior and probably hates him now. His first week in Japan has been wild. Nevertheless, none of those problems come close to the fact that she’s not here. The person he used to be would always manage to have fun no matter where he was or who he was with. The person he is now just can’t stop thinking about this one girl who’s got his whole heart in the palm of her hand. 

I’m getting off the bus now, text you later?

Have a great day baby :) I love you

I love you more :)

Harry reads her last text then tosses his head back and blows air through his mouth in frustration. Fuck. Now he hates everything, well, everything except for her. 

It’s getting late so Harry packs up to leave, the thought of Y/N has never left his mind. He turns the lights off then walks out of the office, assuming he’s the only one here, but apparently not. The lights in the meeting room are still on. 

He stops at the door to find Hana sitting alone by the desk, crying. She looks at him with her eyes all smudged then hastily wipes her tears away.

“What happened? Are you alright?” Harry asks in concern as he enters the room then stands in front of Hana on the other side of the desk.

“I’m fine. Don’t mind me,” replies the older girl while she’s staring at her lap. It seems like she expects him to walk away right after she told him so, which is why Hana is surprised to see him still standing there. 

“You know...” he begins. The corners of his mouth turn up when she finally holds his eye-contact. “I think it’s not too late for that city tour.”

...

Y/N arrives at Layla’s birthday party, with Ethan as her companion. At first she was having doubts about the dress. She thought it was too much and would get people to pay attention to her, which was the opposite of what she wanted. Even so she couldn’t wear something else because she had given Layla her word. 

“Don’t worry, you look great,” Ethan whispers into her ear when they spot Layla and her group drinking by the pool. The birthday girl is more than excited to see Y/N.

“You're here!” To Y/N’s surprise, Layla runs towards her and violently attacks her with a tight hug. 

“Layla, you’re drunk already!”

“A bit, yeah. I need alcohol to do this.” She nods quickly then turns to Ethan. “I can’t thank you enough for dragging her ass to my party!”

“You’re welcome,” he replies with a small smile then tells the girls he’ll go get drinks for Y/N and himself.

“Bye sweetie!” Layla drunkenly waves at Ethan as he walks away, then quickly turns back to Y/N, holding both of her arms, looking utterly frantic.

“I saw Niall but I can’t do it!”

“Yes, you can!” Y/N holds Layla’s face between her palms then looks straight into her green eyes. “You’re going to get your shit together, go find him, then tell him how you feel, just like we’ve discussed!”

“Okay, what if he says no?”

“How do you know you’re gonna fail if you don’t try?” Y/N repeats the same words Ethan said the other day. Layla quickly nods her head then pulls Y/N into another hug, this one lasts longer than the previous one.

“Thank you,” she mumbles before pulling away, holding Y/N’s shoulders firmly. “I’ll be right back, hopefully with good news!”

“Yes! You go girl!” Y/N flashes her a smile then watches the birthday girl flee away.

...

Everything has been going well for Y/N. She’s been laughing and dancing and chatting with Ethan and the others, and for the first time since Harry left she’s actually having a good time. She’s proud of herself, and she’s happy, but it’s been an hour already and Layla hasn’t come back with her good news. Y/N tries to not think too much about it, until she runs into Niall...and his date.

“Hey, Niall!” Y/N smiles at him but her eyebrows are furrowed as she’s confused by the other girl’s presence.

“Oh hey Y/N!” Niall replies cheerfully then grabs the brunette behind him by the hand, slightly pulling her to the front. “This is Harry’s girlfriend Y/N. Y/N, this is my girlfriend—”

Niall tells Y/N the girl’s name but Y/N can’t make out anything else after that word. Her eyes almost pop out of her head when she repeats it one more time in tone of a question. 

“Girlfriend?!”

“Yeah, we just made it official yesterday.”

“Oh God...”

“What is it?”

“No nothing.” YN shakes her head in response to a puzzled Niall then asks him, “does Layla know?”

“Yeah, we ran into Layla, Liam, and Louis a moment ago.”

Y/N groans into the palms of her hands then turns to Ethan, telling him to give her a minute before excusing herself to leave quickly. As she pushes her way through the crowd, Y/N hears Niall calling after her asking what’s going on but she ignores him completely and steals two bottles of wine on her way.

If I was a birthday girl with a broken heart, where would I go? Y/N asks herself, though she’s already got the answer. That’s how she ends up here, in the toilets and finds Layla sobbing in one of the stalls.

“Layla?” Y/N slightly knocks on the door and receives a soft hum as a reply. “Hey, it’s Y/N, let me—”

The door swings open and Layla walks out before Y/N can even finish that sentence. 

“Are you okay?” Y/N’s question comes out almost as a whisper. This is the first time she’s ever seen Layla cry.

“I haven’t told him. He brought her here, they’re dating,” the poor girl breaks the news to Y/N, whose face scrunches up immediately. She can relate to how Layla’s feeling right now in a way, because before her Harry’s been with plenty of other girls. However she guesses this is different, Harry was just fooling around with those girls whereas Niall’s actually in a relationship now.

Y/N sighs then raises the two wine bottles in the air, making Layla turn away from the mirror to look at her with a broken smile. “I don’t normally drink but if you want to get wasted, let’s do it.”

“Harry’s taught you well,” Layla jokes as she accepts one bottle from the girl without hesitation. She’s never said no to alcohol, and right now, she thinks she needs it more than ever.

...

The night ends with Layla dragging Y/N’s body from the lift, all the way to the flat she shares with Harry then to her bed. 

“Be carefully!” Layla shouts, but it’s already too late.

Y/N knocks over the lamp on her nightstand as both of them fall down onto her bed. Layla groans in pain while Y/N is just laughing hysterically for no reason. Layla leaves Y/N lying on her back and sits up on the edge, staring down at her tipsy friend.

“Next time don’t drink more than you can, you idiot,” Layla speaks under her breath but she can’t hide the smile on her face. 

The silence in the room is torn down by Y/N’s ringtone. While Y/N’s groaning and giggling like a madwoman, Layla reaches for the phone and finds the screen light up with Harry’s name on it.

“Your boyfriend’s calling.”

“My boyfriend?!” 

Y/N immediately gets up on her knees on the bed and yanks the phone away from Layla’s hand to answer it herself. Just before she can say hello, Harry’s already the first to speak.

“Y/N, are you home yet? I tried to call you but you had your phone turned off!”

“Baby! Baby! I just drank a lot of wine! A whole lot! Now I’m feeling great!!!” she happily tells him, sitting down with her legs crossed and her free hand holding one foot. 

“Jesus you sound hella drunk. Are you home yet?”

“Yessssssss! Ethan drove me home!”

“Who’s Ethan?”

Layla almost chokes on air and she immediately grabs the phone away from Y/N before the drunk girl says something stupid that’d make Harry explode.

“It’s fine, I came home with her,” she assures Harry, receiving a pout from Y/N whose conversation with her boyfriend was rudely interrupted.

“Layla? You two are at our flat right?”

“Yes, we’re safe, calm your tits Styles.” Layla giggles, yet Harry doesn’t sound like he’s more at ease.

“Who the fuck is Ethan?”

“Oh he’s just Y/N’s new friend.”

“Why hasn’t anyone told me about this new friend?”

“Give me back my Harry!” Y/N attempts to take the phone, so Layla pushes her back down on the bed and stands up to continue the conversation.

“Don’t worry, he’s just a friend. He actually saved your girl a few nights ago.”

“Again, what the fuck?!”

“She was walking home alone and some guy followed her but Ethan showed up just in time. He took her home.” Layla grins. The truth is she finds jealous Harry quite entertaining. If Y/N wasn’t drunk she would’ve stopped her from doing this. However, since Y/N is drunk, Layla cannot pass this opportunity.

“Okay, so my girlfriend was in danger and nobody wanted to tell me?”

“If we’d told you, you would’ve bought a fucking plane ticket and showed up here the next morning. Relax, he’s a nice guy.” Layla almost mentions him flirting with Y/N but then she thinks again and decides not to. Harry would probably fly all the way back just to murder that poor guy.

“I trust Y/N but I don’t trust him. Do you know how easy it is for people to like Y/N once they’ve got to know her?”

“I’m starting to,” says Layla as she gives Y/N a smile and receives one back in return though Y/N has no idea what’s going on.

“Did you get my happy birthday text though?”

“Yes, it’s nice. Thank you.”

There’s a long pause on Harry’s side before he asks Layla another question, “Is there anything you want to tell me?”

“Like, why I’m being nice to Y/N?”

“No. I mean...sure, I want to know the reason for that, but I feel like what you actually want to tell me has nothing to do with Y/N.”

“Nope. I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Layla sticks out her bottom lip and shrugs as she denies to tell the truth. However, for a second there, she did consider.

“I hope you’re okay.”

Layla stays quiet. She doesn’t want to ask what he means by saying that, at the same time, Harry doesn’t push her to give him a confirmation.

“Could you put me back on the phone with Y/N?” he asks, and Layla does as she’s told, telling Y/N she’ll be right back then leaves the room.

“Baby, ya there?”

“I’m here!” 

Harry sighs happily when he hears his girlfriend’s voice again. 

“Harry come home, I miss you.”

“If I could right now, you know I would. How are you love?”

“Uhm...a bit dizzy...I threw up on the way back. Ethan and Layla helped me from falling down the stairs!”

Ugh fucking Ethan, Harry thinks to himself, but he keeps his calm while speaking to her.

“Baby, does Ethan know about me?”

“Yes, he was flirting with me and—” 

“He was what now?”

“Don’t you worry, I told him I’d got a boyfriend!” Y/N giggles and Harry feels a bit relieved.

“I didn’t tell him you weren’t in London though, he figured it out by himself! He said if I had a boyfriend and still had to walk home alone, my boyfriend were either and asshole or not living near me, and he didn’t think I would’ve dated an asshole so he assumed it was the later!”

Harry sighs, clearly not okay with the thought of another guy looking after his girlfriend because he could not. Moreover, he’s angry, not at Y/N, not at Ethan (well maybe yes at Ethan, for flirting with his girl), but (mostly) at himself for not being there for her. 

“Y/N, are you still there?”

“I’m hereeee!”

“Baby, next time you can’t walk home alone at night, okay? It’s not safe. If you have to, just call Niall or any of my friends to come with you.” Definitely not Ethan for sure. “Just don’t put yourself in danger, I’ll be very worried.”

“Yes sir!”

“Good girl, now I’m going to hang up so you can sleep, yeah?”

“Okaaaaaay...do you love me though?”

“I do,” he answers without pause. “More than anything.”

“I love you this much!” She swings her arms open wide to illustrate the amount of love she has for him. He can imagine her doing so from the other side of the world, and it makes him truly happy.

“I can’t see you but I guess it means you love me a lot?”

“I do love you a lot.” Y/N lays her head down on the pillow, shutting her eyes but the beam stays on her face when her thumb starts rubbing his promise ring. Even though she’s not in her clear mind, she’s still sane when it comes to him.

“Let’s get married someday,” she suggests out of the blue. It doesn’t matter to him if she really means it or it’s just the alcohol talking, just hearing her say that sends him over the fucking moon.

“Of course love, whenever you’d like,” he speaks in a heavy whispery tone which calms her and sends her closer to sleep. “Good night, angel.”

“Good night, baby,” she mumbles before ending the call. 

When Layla returns with a glass of water and some clothes for Y/N to change, she finds her friend already asleep in bed, the phone’s still in her hand.

Meanwhile, in Tokyo, Harry opens his text messages and sends a quick one to his best friend Niall after ending the call with Y/N.

Layla’s safe. She’s with Y/N.

It doesn’t take longer than one second for Niall to reply: Thanks mate x.

Harry sighs after reading that, then tosses his phone aside on the sofa. 

His girl is safe and sound now, but he's burning with anxiety, and it’d be a lie to say this has nothing to do with this new friend of hers named Ethan. Harry's aware that he’s jealous too often but he always has a good reason for it. His guts feelings are never wrong because he knows Y/N’s effects on people. It’s hard to not fall for someone like her if one gets to know her enough. Now it troubles him more knowing they stay friends after Ethan tried flirting with Y/N.

From Harry’s experience, if he approached a hot girl and she told him she was taken he would stay as far away as possible. You can’t just stop being physically attracted to someone just right after you find out they’re not single. One way or another, sooner or later, Ethan is going to make a move. What Harry’s afraid of isn’t Y/N cheating on him, but her leaving him to be with someone she believes can treat her better. These thoughts (or the lack of sleep) make his head hurt.

“Harry?”

Harry turns his head to his bedroom door and sees Hana standing there in his t-shirt which is too big for her delicate frame so it looks like a dress.

“Sleep well?” he asks, yet she ignores his concern.

“Did we—”

“No!” Harry shakes his head quickly. “You showed me around the city then we went to this pub and you got super drunk so I took you back. We couldn’t find your key that’s why I let you stay here.”

“Did you change my clothes?”

“No. I gave you my shirt and then left so you could do it yourself, don’t worry.”

“Okay…” Hana sighs while putting one hand on the top of her head. “And did I overshare anything when I was drunk?”

“Nope, or you did spill all of your secrets but since you were shouting at me in Japanese, I didn’t understand.”

What he said makes Hana giggle and he ends up laughing as well.

“But do you want to talk about why you were crying?”

“No,” Hana answers quickly then turns away to leave. Harry doesn’t try to stop her and beg for the truth because he respects her not wanting to share it with him. However, something makes the girl come back to the door.

“Oh Harry?”

“Hmm?” 

“Thank you for not leaving me alone last night.”

“Oh…” His mouth forms a circle and he’s frozen for a second or two when she sends him a soft smile. “Okay…No problem.”

...

Y/N wakes up the next morning with a terrible headache. Her memory after finishing half a bottle last night is now very blurry. However, she still remembers getting into Ethan’s car with Layla then Layla helping her into bed and part of her phone call with Harry. If her brain isn’t wrong she might have told him about Ethan, she thinks. It’s just she cannot remember his reaction.

It takes Y/N a couple seconds later to realize she’s not alone in bed. Layla’s still asleep next to her. Just like Y/N, the poor girl is still in her party dress from last night, apparently too exhausted to even get changed before dozing off.

Y/N grabs her phone to check the time and happens to see a new message from Harry.

Good morning love! Call me when you wake up! Drink lots of water and don’t skip breakfast! I love you :)

She smiles and hurriedly types down a reply.

Got it :) Love you, hope you’ve had a great day! Can’t wait to tell you about my crazy night with Layla!

She means to put her phone away after pressing ‘send’, but then comes another text, it’s just not from Harry. This time it’s Ethan’s.

Good morning! Does it feel nice to finally get off the shelf? ;)

The message makes Y/N snort. She turns to look at Layla, who’s mumbling in her sleep something that makes no sense at all. Well, Y/N thinks while grinning to herself. Maybe someone does like her story after all.

[borhapparker]

sheer heart attack  |  bohemian rhapsody cast series (chap.1)

summary: you are the instructor for ‘bohemian rhapsody’, getting paid to teach the cast how to play their respective instruments. from an early age, youve known how to play the piano, the drums, the bass and the electric/acoustic guitar. forming a tight bond with rami, gwilym, ben and joe, all of you would hang out im each other’s trailers, creating a lasting friendship between all of you. this causes the ripple of them wanting you to be in all the interviews possible during the press tours, even if you werent on the list for interviews, which caused for some buried secrets to come to life and some crushes to be revealed.

word count: 3.35k

pairing: none just yet!

fic masterlist    |    playlist (apple music / spotify)

Your manager had called you a few days ago, mentioning how she had talked to a director, who was interested in an instructor for his new movie. Seeing as you were a professional singer and had known your instruments since you were young, this could be one of your biggest breaks in Hollywood. This would be a big movie, one of the most popular if it got the attention it deserved, so you decided to book a meeting with the director and producers.

“When’s the meeting?” you asked your manager, as you held the phone between your shoulder and your ear, as you moved around the spare room in your house, setting up your tripod and the drum kit in the corner.

“Tomorrow, at 10am.”

“Okay, I’ll be there. Anything I need to know beforehand?”

“I just sent you an email with all the information you need.” she paused, rustling heard from the other end of the call, “Listen, call me tomorrow after the meeting, I gotta head out. Good luck tomorrow!”

“I will! Bye!”

Hanging up, you headed to your laptop on the coffee table, opening the email she had sent, as you let out a yell of surprise. “No way! She did not just book me an audition to a Queen biopic!” Your eyes scanned the email, information about the movie, called Bohemian Rhapsody along with information on the producers: Brian Harold May and Roger Meddows Taylor, the two out of three remaining members of Queen, your favorite band since you were young. Remembering what you were going to do before she called you, you closed your laptop before walking back inside the room you were in, setting up your phone on the tripod and pressing record. Walking over to the drum kit, you sat, twirling your drumsticks in your hand before you started playing, the beat of Keep Yourself Alive playing, concentration etched on your face, as you kept playing. Getting lost in the music and the beat made you produce the best cover, as you came to the infamous drum solo from the song.

It wasn’t the most difficult song you had ever practiced, so the solo came easy to you. Finishing the song, you smiled at the camera, before pressing the stop button, and uploading the cover to your Instagram.

Sighing, you grabbed your water bottle nearby, taking a drink before grabbing your laptop and setting it on your lap, reading through the rest of the information your manager had provided, then opening your documents and writing the rest of your song.

The evening went by fairly quickly, as you finished the last of your song, ate a quick meal and headed to bed. The nerves and the drumming drained you, as your body begged for sleep. Slowly undressing yourself and slipping on your pajamas, you sent a last text to your manager letting her know that you had gone over the email and were ready for tomorrow. Slipping into your bed, you closed your eyes, got comftorable, and fell into a deep sleep.

The next morning, the alarm woke you up, as you hit snooze, burying your head in your pillow and pulling the covers over you. A couple minutes passed before you sat up, looking over at your phone on the nightstand and noticing the messages from your manager. Reaching over, you grasped the phone with your hand, bringing it up to your face as you read through the messages. Your eyes widened as you looked at the clock, before jumping out of bed, and quickly running to your closet all while dialing your manager’s phone.

“Hello?” she answered as your eyebrows furrowed, as you quickly grabbed the first articles of clothing you saw.

“Hey! You didn’t tell me you booked a wrong time for me! I barely woke up and I have half an hour to get to my meeting! What the hell, Lizzie!” you argued, quickly running to the kitchen and turning on the coffee machine so it would be ready while you’re in the shower, before running back.

“I’m sorry! I forgot about the time! The good thing is that it only takes 10 minutes to get to the meeting, so you have 20 minutes to shower and get changed.”

Sighing, you turned on the shower, “Fine, but next time, let me know in advance.”

“I will! Now hurry! And don’t worry about looking professional, they said jeans and a nice blouse is fine. Good luck!” she hung up as you sighed, quickly switching the shirt for a while blouse, your blue jeans and black low-top converse.

You quickly jumped in the shower, washing your hair and body quickly before rinsing and turning off the water, before drying yourself off and changing. Blow drying your hair, you quickly put it half up in a bun, leaving the other half down. You lathered on some mascara and a bit of lipstick before slipping on your converse, turning off the lights, running to the kitchen to grab your coffee before grabbing your bag and keys and running out the door to your car. Speeding off, you headed to the place the meeting would be held, quickly driving into the parking lot and finding a spot closest to the front door. Realizing you had five minutes till you were due inside, you checked your messages, going over the email from last night and letting your manager know you had arrived, before grabbing your bag and getting out of your car. Locking it, you walked to the door, knocking as the speaker from the wall buzzed.

“How may I help you?” the secretary spoke through as you smiled at her through the door.

“I have a meeting with Mr. Singer for the new production of Bohemian Rhapsody.”

“Code?”

“1985 Wembley.”

The door buzzed open as you walked through, as it locked behind you and you walked behind the secretary. She led you through another door as you were met with the director, Bryan Singer, and the band members of Queen, Roger Taylor and Brian May. Your expression showed shock, and nerves, as you shook hands with all three of them, before sitting down in front of them.

“Thank you for meeting with us, Miss Y/n.” the director said as you smiled and nodded. “So, your manager spoke very highly of you. How long have you been playing your chosen instruments?”

“For 15 years. I started with piano first, then drums, bass, and most recently, electric and acoustic guitar.” you answered, as you felt Brian and Roger’s gaze on you. “I also write my own songs, and I’ve posted videos of me playing certain songs on those instruments. Mostly Queen songs, but a variety of different genres.”

Brian pulled out his phone, opening Instagram and looking for your Instagram. He pulled up the profile, before clicking on the most recent video, the one from last night. He nudged both Roger and Bryan Singer, as they watched the video, the audio on. The video reached the drum solo, as Roger’s eyes widened, noticing you recreating the infamous drum solo that was hard to replicate. As it stopped, Brian kept going through different videos, some with the electric guitar, others with the piano, and bass.

Roger turned to you, smile on his face. “This is very impressive.”

“Thank you,” you smiled, as Bryan Singer turned to you,  Brian May smiling as well.

“We’re very interested in having you teach the actors how to play their instruments. Would you be interested?”

You nodded, smiling, “I would very much be interested.”

“Great! Welcome to the team, Miss Y/n.” they all shook your hand, as the director turned to you once more. “We are considering all actors willing to be part of the audition process. Do you have any actors you think would fit best for the roles?”

Sighing, you thought about it, various actors and actresses going through your head, as your friends popped up first. “Lucy Boynton would be a good Mary Austin. She’s a good actress and has been in different movies and shows. As well as Rami Malek for Freddie Mercury, and Joe Mazzello as John Deacon. He very much looks like him and has a close resemblance to the bassist.” you said, as the director wrote down notes.

“Would you want to be in on the audition process? You seem to know who would fit best for these roles, and you might have a little more experience since you’ve been part of the Hollywood industry for a while.”

“I would love to.”

“Great. We have some auditions going on today. Are you free for the rest of the day?”

Nodding, they stood up, leading you into another room adjacent to that one, as you all sat down at a table together, going through different headshots and resumes. Some actors stood out to you, as you put them in a different pile, conversing with Brian and Roger, as Bryan Singer, the director, on a call, outside the room.

“What about him?” Brian held up a headshot of another actor, Gwilym Lee, an English actor who you had seen in Midsomer Murders. “He seems like a good fit. Has some background in music.”

You held up the photo to Brian, nodding. “He looks like you, some resemblance. The background in music would be helpful when it comes to the rehearsal process.”

Roger was looking through the headshots you had chosen, as the secretary came back, another folder in her hand. “I’ve received another submission. Here you go.” she smiled, putting the folder on the table before leaving.

You picked up the file, opening it and inspecting the resume before your eyes locked on the headshot, recognizing the person immediately.

“Him.”

Roger and Brian both looked at the headshot before smiling and nodding as well.

It seemed like you guys were in agreement.

-

You had stepped out a couple hours ago with orders for food and drinks, as you went to go and get the food for all four of you, before returning, arms full. The secretary opened the door for you, helping you bring the drinks inside as you all headed to the hallway, noticing the line of actors, a couple whom you recognized from their headshots. Noticing Joe and Rami, you winked at them, smile on your face as they noticed you and returned the gesture, and you disappeared behind the audition door. Giving out the food and drinks, you all sat down, as the secretary brought in the first actor, Sacha Baron Cohen, who you had seen in a couple different films. Yet, when he walked through the door, you couldn’t see the portrayal. Throughout his audition, you jotted down notes, as you took sips of your drink, as finished and left and you turned to the others.

“I don’t think he’s the best fit. He seemed more interested in another side of Freddie rather than what we could portray.” you said as they nodded, calling the next actor in.

Various auditions went by, as you watched one after the other. Keeping notes, you crossed out actors and circled a couple that could be good fits. The door opened, and you finished writing before looking up, and locking eyes with a pair of green-blue eyes. Giving him a smile, you nodded at him.

“Ben Hardy, right?” Brian asked as he nodded, fiddling with his fingers out of nervousness.

“So, what makes you think you are a good fit for the role of..” you paused, looking down at your notes. “Roger Taylor?” you turned to Roger, smiling as he nodded at you.

“Well, I’ve been a follower of Queen since I was young, and I grew up in London, so it’s a very common musical band to listen to.” he paused, “I also have a background in playing the drums.”

As soon as the response slipped through his lips, you raised your eyebrows, a smile tugging at the corner of your lips. “Is that so? How long?” you asked as he looked at you.

“A little over a year.”

You nodded, writing down a note for yourself as he continued with the interview, before being given part of a script, as he read it out, his accent and posture very similar to Roger himself.

“Thank you, we’ll contact you this week for our answer.” Ben nodded, shaking our hands as he left.

“Well, we have three more and then we’ll be done for the day. What did you guys think?” Bryan Singer asked as you smiled.

“I think he fits. In the end, it’s up to Roger to choose who plays him.”

Nodding, Roger spoke up, “He’s very much a version of my younger self. I see a lot of myself in him, I think he would be a good fit. And the background in music is an added bonus.”

“We could have him send a video of himself practicing or playing a Queen song.” Brian mentioned, and you nodded.

“That’s a good idea.”

“How about we bring in the last three?”

You all agreed as Gwilym Lee was brought inside the room. He held a guitar in his hand, an amp connected to the corner of the room was waiting as he connected it to the guitar, hands shaking.

“Hi, I’m Gwilym. I’m here to audition for the part of Brian May.” Gwilym said, as he adjusted the sound, before playing the guitar solo for Bohemian Rhapsody, then part of Another One Bites The Dust as he finished, and all of you clapped.

“That was really good Gwilym.” you said, a smile on your face.

“I agree. What makes you the best person for this role?” Brian asked Gwilym as he set the guitar down, twiddling with his fingers as he thought of an answer.

“As someone who has experience in guitar, I’ve noticed that no one can really perfectly represent Brian May, especially a legend like him. But I’m willing to put in my all to represent him and show those who were not born in the same decade, that Queen can still be appreciated.” Gwilym said, as his answer surprised you.

He left and Joe walked in, did his audition and then Rami was the last to come. All of them did their audition, notes being taken on your respective notepads as Rami finished and all of you were left alone once again.

“So, any thoughts?”

“I think we should bring back Rami, Joe, Gwilym, and Ben. They seem to have the best background, and their goal is to achieve the best image of the band. They aren’t interested in what the band did before, they want to introduce Queen to new audiences, younger ones. I think that’s what’s important when casting for a biopic like Bohemian Rhapsody.” you said as Brian and Roger both nodded.

“What about Sacha Baron Cohen?” Bryan Singer asked, as you furrowed your eyebrows, tilting your head to the side in confusion.

“I don’t think he’s the best fit for the job.”

“I liked him.” he said, as you shrugged your shoulders, not convinced that he’s the best option for Freddie Mercury.

It all seemed to come down to them, as you all debated over the best course of action to take.

“Let’s have them all send videos of themselves playing their respective instruments or re-creating an official interview with the band members. That could help us determine in the end who we can cast.”

That’s how you all finished, your thoughts set on who was the best in your eyes, as you decided to meet the next day at the same time, to watch the videos the actors would send. You yawned, as you walked out of the building, heading to you car and driving home.

-

A week had passed, as you had reviewed the videos, prepped music sheets and attended your gigs, as well as wrote your final songs for your newest album. Your week had been packed, the movie taking most of your priority and your thoughts.

You had been called to a roundtable meeting for Friday, as you had gathered all your music sheets, and information for the actors that they might need. Packing everything into a bag, you headed out of your house, locking the door behind you before heading to your car and driving off to another place. Since you were based in LA, you headed to the location the director had sent you, driving into the parking lot and finding the closest open spot. Various cars were occupying the lot, as you sighed out the nerves, before heading inside.

You followed the noise and commotion coming from the end of the hall, as you walked inside the open door, coming face to face with a large table, various actors and crew sitting. Brian and Roger noticed you, as they waved at you, and you headed over, arms full of files and papers. Brian took the papers from you, placing them down on the seat next to him which held a placard with your name and title.

“Thank you, how are you both?” they engulfed you in hugs after you put down your things in your seat.

“Good, darling, what about you? I’ve heard you’ve been busy.” Roger said with a smile as Brian only nodded along.

“Yeah, I’ve been trying to finish my album and get some things ready for the cast.” I brought the schedule for rehearsals and where so everything is ready on our side.“ you said with a sigh, as you sat, everyone getting to their seats as the producers and director began to speak to everyone.

"Thank you all for coming today. We would like to welcome the cast of Bohemian Rhapsody: Rami Malek will be portraying Freddie Mercury, Joe Mazzello will be playing John Deacon, Gwilym Lee as Brian May, Ben Hardy as Roger Taylor, Lucy Boynton for Mary Austin, Allen Leech as Paul Prenter, Aiden Gillen as John Reid, Tom Hollander for Jim Beach, Mike Myers as Ray Foster and Aaron McCusker for Jim Hutton. This will be our main cast for now, but let’s welcome them.” everyone clapped as the actors smiled. “We have our Executive Music Producers, Brian May and Roger Taylor, Jim Beach as our producer, and our musical coach, Y/n Y/L/N.” all four of you stood, smiling at everyone before sitting, as the introductions went around.

“So, we have some schedules some of the crew is giving out. We start filming in 6 weeks, which gives everyone enough time to have props ready, as well as give the cast a chance to rehearse. Y/n, since you will be teaching the cast their instruments, I was told you have a schedule for them?” you nodded, as you stood up and rounded the table, heading in front of each of them.

You handed them each a schedule with their times and directions to where they needed to be. “This can and most likely will change, but for now, this is what we’ll be working with. I’ve also hired Polly Bennet as your movement coach for all of you, but mostly for Rami, since Freddie was never choreographed, I believed you wouldn’t want to be either.” you smiled at him, before returning to your seat.

The meeting went on, as everyone talked about their specific input for the movie. After the meeting, all four actors approached you.

“Y/n?” you turned, phone up to your ear as you held up a finger, listening to your manager quickly give out information as you wrote it down on a sticky note before she hung up.

“Sorry about that, my manager called. What’s up?” you smiled at them as Gwilym held out his hand first for you to shake.

“We just wanted to come over and introduce ourselves. I’m Gwilym.”

“Ben.”

“Joe.”

“And you already know me, Y/n.” Rami said as you engulfed him in a hug.

“It’s nice to meet all of you. I look forward to teaching and guiding you through the process of this movie. Are you guys ready to start rehearsals tomorrow?” you asked as they nodded. “Alright. Make sure to meet at the studio at 10am. I’ll be there a little early recording for my album, so if you’re there beforehand, feel free to come in and have a listen.”

They nodded, as you grabbed your things, before waving goodbye to them and heading off.

The beginnings of a journey might become the best experience for you. Queen was always a big part of your childhood, it was what fueled you to become a singer and practice different instruments. Seeing as it was sort of your lucky charm, you prayed that it would bring you some rewards as you worked on the biopic.

Fingers crossed.