#brian on the other hand. he would try to fix me and fail miserably

[cryptile]

I think there is a fair share of the mechansisms band members that *could* fix me but would simply choose not to

[anystalker707]

More, please

Pairing: Mikey x [afab] Reader Word count: ~ 6 100 Genre: Smut / Fluff Summary: Mikey has been sleeping around with everyone, but simply gets addicted to (y/n) after a night with them. Kind of content: Humiliation / Praising / Degradation / Dirty talk / P*gging / Fingering / Toys

Requested by @lubbockshusband

Summer tours hit different. Even if some of the concerts happen during the day, most of our active hours are when the sun is already low in the horizon, giving it all more of a dreamy vibe, like when we’re playing some made-up kicking game at 1am in a parking lot or having late night talks. In general, the whole thing is good, even if tiring.

A sigh escapes my lips as I sip on my coffee, leaning back against the foldable chair which I set out here on the parking lot a few hours ago not only so I can get any entertainment that doesn’t come from a minuscule screen or magazines I find around the bus, but also to breathe in some pure air. Nothing that smells like mold, cigarettes, alcohol, and sweat. Yes, the bus is good, the bus is comfortable, but it goes through hell sometimes and survives to tell the tale. That’s why I think twice when the chill breeze hitting me almost convinces me to go back inside and decide to stick to watching the others. It’s mostly amusing since I know none of them properly; Brian just told me there was a band needing a stage manager and I immediately accepted.

Gerard walks around with a few other people, probably heading to find anything open at this time – it takes everything in me not to walk over there to fix his clothes myself –, while Ray talks with Brian, and I could swear Frank was here until some time ago. Maybe with Mikey like last week? I swear I see Mikey leaving someone’s bus or room half-naked more times than I would like. Sometimes his back is all covered in scratches and it doesn’t feel like something I am supposed to see. Thankfully, Mikey is fully dressed now.

It’s almost a miracle seeing Mikey’s hair in place anytime other than for an interview and photoshoots, not sticking into all directions. He stands there for a moment, watching Gerard in the distance before he observes Ray for a moment, but it’s only when his eyes land on me that the corners of his lips curl up into a small smile. Should I be afraid?

“Hi, (y/n)!” Mikey rests his hands on his hips, standing in that awkward way of his in which any attempt to look cool is ruined by the rather cute way his knees bend inwards.

“Hi, Mikeyway.” A grin tugs on my lips helplessly. The coffee cup is set down by my feet. If Mikey’s trying to be subtle, he’s fucking failing at this, miserably. “You good?” I cross my arms, taking a good look at him. He’s not as pale as Gerard, but still looks like a vampire and the parking lot’s bright white lights manage to intensify it.

“Yeah, but I was thinking we could hang out or something!”

“Oh, of course,” I hum in agreement. It’s gonna be fun.

“So, in the bus,” he says, but it sounds more like a question as he waits for me to stand up before he’s following me into the bus, welcomed by the pleasingly warm atmosphere. And what’s Mikey gonna do, though? Is it exactly what I’m thinking about or maybe not? He’s stepping close before I can formulate the right question, looking from my eyes to my lips in a silent ask I don’t refuse, pulling him closer by a hand on the back of his neck while he holds onto my hips to close the space between us. His hips grind against my thigh, compelling him to moan when I bring my thigh up lightly.

Mikey’s lips are warm and soft, also well skilled as they swiftly follow the rhythm I impose until he hums quietly with how my teeth sink into his bottom lip lightly and despite his attempts to advance, I clutch on his shirt to push him until his back hits the bathroom’s door, compelling him to gasp, which is only a gap for the kiss to deepen once I manage to slip my tongue in his mouth – his fingers twitch around my hips at the same time his breath is caught in his throat.

“Your bunk or mine?” he breathes against my lips, observing me from half-lidded eyes behind steamed up glasses.

“Yours.” I brush my lips against his and let go of him with a quick peck.

Mikey’s bunk is rather messy – you’d think the most organized one would be his or Ray’s and not Frank’s, judging superficially –, but has enough space – unlike Gerard’s – for us to climb in, pulling the curtain closed after us. Just in case.

A quiet curse escapes Mikey’s lips between kisses pressed against mine until all there is are hums muffled into the kiss, which grows messy with a new urgency, but I still refuse to let him over me. It takes a bit of struggle, but I’m finally able to spoon him, pressing kisses to the back of his neck with my arms around his waist, eventually tugging on his skin with my teeth and focus on a spot under his ear that has the little hums escaping his lips easier.

“Y’know,” I whisper into his ear – his back pushes against my chest with how he squirms, even more when I let a hand trail down almost between his legs. “I’d do you so well, but I’m afraid we don’t really have the space for it right now, baby,” I say softly into his ear and easily undo the button of his jeans, which snatches a hiss at how the jeans run down his clothed cock, never uncovering it, but coming down his ass. “But I’m not gonna leave you all needy either.”

“(Y/n),” Mikey groans, looking down at my hand before he pulls his glasses off, which’s a lot more comfortable than having the metal frame digging into our faces. “What you gonna do? Fuck, I–”

“Shh, you’ll figure out soon.” I press a kiss to the spot on his neck and pull away, searching under the pillow. Knowing Mikey, he will… Yes, there’s the lube. I squirt some of it on three of my fingers and before he can protest again, whatever complaint is replaced by a gasp once my fingers press to his entrance. “Now, why don’t you pull one of your legs up lightly to make it easier for me?” I nuzzle the back of his neck, chest pressed to his back so he’ll half-lie down on his stomach while the leg opposite to my side goes up and he’s tensing up at how a finger threatens to slip in. “You okay?” He grunts. “Use your words, Mikey.”

“Y-Yeah, (y/n), please,” he breathes. Half of his face is pressed into the pillow and the other half partly covered by messy hair strands, but the redness taking over it is still seen; he presses his eyes shut, almost nuzzling into the pillow.

“Good boy,” I mumble, finally letting my finger slip in and immediately snatch a breathy moan from Mikey, followed by light hitches of his breath until a second finger makes him almost whine. “Aw, Mikey, look at you…” It’s such a sight. Never would I think Mikey is that submissive and whiny – of course, sometimes I do see him leaning and grinding against someone as if asking for their attention, but this is simply a whole different thing. His hand closes around the sheets at the moment my fingers brush against his prostate, having more and more moans to escape his lips with it; he shifts around a little, in what I presume to be squirming at first, but I’m quickly pulling my fingers out of him to swat his hand away. “No, you’re not touching yourself!”

“Please,” Mikey whines, arching his back.

“Aw, are you really going to object?” I sigh, bringing my hand back behind him only to trace his entrance. “Then I might as well also stop, right? Since you’re not going to be a good boy.”

“No, no, don’t,” he cries softly, somehow the hottest thing.

“Well, then you’re going to cum without having your cock touched like the good boy you are,” I say softly and two of my fingers slip past the tight ring of muscles again to easily find his prostate; he gasps, arching his back. “And don’t you dare cumming before I tell you to.” He groans, compelling a grin to helplessly tug on my lips. “Are you my good boy, Mikey?” I press down against his prostate, scissoring my fingers around. “Hm? Answer me, baby.��

Mikey whines softly, squirming against my touch hopelessly. “Y-Yes, I am,” he chokes out, voice tight and whiny in a way I never heard before. “I-I’m your good boy, fuck– Don’t stop–” He moans, long and needy.

“Why, Mikey? What’d you do if I stopped now?” My touch gains pressure with the movement, reaching his prostate with every push – he gasps each time it happens, gripping onto the sheets as he squirms into the touch. “Whine and cry? Fucking beg for more or start hopelessly humping against the mattress?” I let my fingers linger around his entrance, almost pulling out, and his thighs tremble a little with how he tenses up.

Mikey’s heavy breathing and quiet whines in failed attempts to talk sound muffled in the small space, but it’s all there is, not in an uncomfortable way, of course, almost making me regret not taking things another way.

“Y-Yeah,” Mikey swallows. “I-I– You can’t stop! I’m–”

“Are you always this pathetic?” I resume my motions, pressing kisses to Mikey’s neck between the words. “Because I didn’t think you’d break this easily or even break like this at all.”

“I’m not,” he groans, the small attempt to put up a fight melting away within seconds.

“How adorable,” I chuckle against his neck. “All of this, just for me.” And he’s only able to moan in response, shaky and breathy after I start to nibble down on his neck until his moans grow a little too whiny and his breath is shallow and labored, matching with his messy squirming. “You gonna cum, Mikey, baby? You close?”

“Yeah!” Mikey gasps, back pushing against my chest. “Fuck, r-right there.” He moans after a particular motion which I make sure to continue with while letting a few marks behind along Mikey’s neck; pride swells in my chest at the sight of them, but I avert my attention back to Mikey himself at how his squirming grows more helpless, hips moving messily at how he grinds against the mattress.

“Cum, Mikey, do it,” I mutter into his ear. “Cum for me, baby.” And it doesn’t take him anything else. The higher-pitched whine easily escapes his lips while his thighs tremble and his knuckles turn white around the sheets, sounds eventually reduced to small hums whenever his breath hitches as he slowly comes down from his high. Eventually, the trembles are reduced to twitches at the same time the throbbing around my fingers grows sparse.

“Oh my,” I mumble, pulling my fingers away to clean them away on a random shirt and proceed to pull Mikey to his side a little, enough to see the mess in his boxers, which have wet spots over them. “What a good boy you are!” I grin effortlessly, tugging his jeans and boxers down until he can kick them away himself, so I proceed to clean him with the shirt and pull a blanket over him. “So? Was that good?” I wrap my arms around his waist to hug him from behind.

Mikey hums with a nod, so I smile and press a kiss to his cheek. “Yeah,” he breathes, “best thing in a while.”

“That was really hot, y’know? All your little whines. Damn, I really wish I could’ve done more to you.” A sigh escapes my nose at the thought of how easily Mikey crumbled down. I chuckle. “Imagine what I could do to you in a proper bedroom.”

Mikey clicks his tongue, a hand messily swatting me away. Or trying to, at least. “Fuck off, will you? Let’s just cuddle. ‘M tired.”

I chuckle again, though just relax this time, and rest my head between Mikey’s shoulders, shifting around until finding a good position. “Good night.”

~

Sometimes ignoring past events feels worse than it should. It shouldn't feel wrong at all, I mean. Hookups are just hookups, and kissing that one friend at a party or random occasion is just another memory you two share together. Not relevant, even more if you’re not that close to said person. Even so, this feeling that I should do something more still lingers behind every time I come across Mikey, which is agonizing because I don’t want to lead things further in the wrong way, but sometimes I just feel like asking him about the night before yesterday in front of everyone and watch him crumble down again.

Maybe I’m staring. Mikey bares his teeth in a grin, laughing about whatever he’s talking about the other people from the staff at the moment his eyes meet mine across the stage. Perhaps a coincidence.

“You need a new pedal,” I tell Frank. Let’s redirect these thoughts – anything but Mikey before it gives me a headache. I connect the guitar cable to the pedal then connect the amp’s to it. Some of the pedal’s paint is already fading away and showing the silver paint underneath the black and red tones while the once rough texture of the foot pieces are now smooth.

“I plan on getting a new one soon,” he mumbles, glancing over to check the distortion levels. “Just need a little more money and that’s it, I’ve been keeping an eye on one for a while now.”

“Well, I can always help you guys fix some things,” I sigh, standing up. “I know some people ‘cause I’m always working for whatever band needs me, so I could fix a few things for you for a lower price, anyways.”

“You don’t need to.” Frank presses his lips together.

“C’mon, I want to help. You guys are awesome, I love your work, I love you guys.” I wrap an arm around his shoulders to pull him for a hug and he hums, hiding a smile as I press a kiss to his head. “One of the nicer bands, actually. Some of them treat me as if I’m obligated to work for them or whatever.” I shake my head at the thought. Stupid. Time to check Ray’s pedal, though!

“Yeah, some of them are straight up assholes,” he groans, following me.

The guys are playing a couple of concerts in this city, meaning about three days here, which also means hotel nights. Fucking finally. As much as I like tagging along on tours, some of the things I miss the most are a bedroom and a bathroom, preferably not two per two feet wide. That’s why I try to put everything away as quickly as possible so I can get my things and go to my room at the hotel already, which doesn’t happen quite easily. Not with how Mikey stays behind, at first just standing around until he finally gathers enough courage to approach me. I try not to look at him too much as he walks over, not to scare him away.

“Hi,” Mikey hums, observing me roll the cables to put them away. He shifts his weight from leg to leg and only continues after I throw a glance at him. “You almost finished?”

“Yeah.” I nod. “Just gotta put these away.”

“Cool.” He smiles. “Maybe we can go to your room, then?”

I furrow my eyebrows and look at him up and down. Is he okay?

“Since when are you pulling two-night stands, Mikey Way?” I make sure all of the cables are there before heading to put the cables away, followed by Mikey.

“Why, can’t I?” Mikey rolls his eyes – I need to pause to take a fucking look at that stupid face of his and there’s the chuckle, suppressed into a pressed-lips smirk. His eyes drift downwards. “Okay, sorry, but– Damn, can we just… Like, you mentioned, like…”

“Oh,” I chuckle, raising my eyebrows. “What did I mention, Mikey? Can you refresh my memory?” A bright red tone takes over his cheeks and he tilts his head, scratching the back of his neck. Whatever he mumbles, is inaudible under the sound of the cars going down the street by the parking lot. “Sorry, baby, I couldn’t hear anything. Bother speaking a little louder?” And the way he exhales, placing his hands on his hips while eyeing his feet as if they were the most interesting thing in the world, is just fascinating.

“When you mentioned having the proper space, a proper bedroom…” He looks up this time, at the starry sky. “And how you’d do me so well, so… I thought we could enjoy the hotel night, y’know? No one will ever notice if I’m gone to your room or anything, if you care about it, like…” He shrugs, shaking his head lightly.

I hold back a snort and slowly nod instead, crossing my arms over my chest. “I’ll get my things.”

There’s something fun about how Mikey follows me around, the way his steps are hesitant and he probably opens and closes his mouth repeatedly three or four times in attempts to say something, instead covering it with a cough. His bag is ready – he fixed his things before the concert along with the others, but continues lingering around his things and taking glances at me all the way from his bunk.

“Let’s go.” I walk past him, almost physically feeling the relief that washes over him – Brian is walking back into the bus at the moment we are leaving.

With a quick stop at the hotel’s reception, Mikey and I are quickly climbing up the stairs because Helena is on top of many charts right now, but they only have the bus due to their van having caught fire sometime ago. There’s still a miserable feeling filling the room whenever the subject comes up. I still have to hold myself back from chuckling, though.

“Finally.” A sigh escapes my lips as I close the door behind us, and let my things down on the ground and my shoes plus socks by the door.

“Finally gonna fuck me? Were you excited?” Mikey chuckles, that same smile from when he approached me the first time, but now evolved into something else. His eyes follow every movement of mine despite sometimes having to avert down to check what his hands are doing with his boot’s straps.

“...A proper room. Finally a proper room with a proper bed and a proper shower.” I raise my eyebrows, prompting – the corners of his lips curl downwards a little, bottom lip sticking out.

“You’re no fun.”

“I’m not supposed to be.” I start walking in Mikey's direction, compelling him to tense up for a moment, just to eventually let out a sigh with how I walk the other way at the last moment. “Make yourself home.”

Some soda surprisingly sits in the mini-fridge along with bottles of water and I don’t find myself worrying whether I’ll need to pay three times the price of the same thing in the convenience store as I grab one of the bottles, downing a third of it before lowering the bottle. Mikey stares at me, biting down on his lip.

“What, hun? What’s in your mind?” I arch an eyebrow, screwing the cap back and set the bottle on the nearby small table.

A shaky breath escapes his nose and Mikey already has his shirt off when he kneels on the bed and sits back between his legs. “I– Please, (y/n)- Won’t you, like, fuck me?”

“Hm? Me?” I chuckle. “Do you deserve it?”

“Yeah! Of course!”

“Try again,” I breathe – a red tone spreads across his face, his Addam’s apple bobbing up and down with an audible swallow. “Y’know, baby…” I pull a chair closer and throw one of my legs over it to sit down, resting my forearms over the top of the backrest. “You have been shooting at me some… peculiar gazes these past days. Have you been trying to tempt me, Mikey?”

Mikey groans, rolling his shoulders back. “N-No, I didn’t mean to! I just– I didn’t know how to approach you, I– Fuck.”

“Pathetic, aren’t you?” I shake my head to myself, feeling a smile forming on my face, that I need to stop by biting down on my bottom lip. “I was fucking fingering you until you whined a couple of days ago, and you didn’t know how to approach me?” I roll my eyes with a soft scoff. “At least work more for it this time, hm?”

“You want me to beg?”

“Don’t you?”

A throaty sound comes from Mikey as he shifts, adjusting his glasses with a tap on the middle of the frame. His tight black and low-waisted jeans have already started to grow tight. For how long has he been wanting this?

“Fuck, I really need this, (y/n)!”

“Why?”

“I even refused a hookup last night, I just couldn’t stop thinking about how easily you…” He hums weakly, shrugging. “Y’know.”

“I what?” I grin, feeling the arousal start to pool down in my lower stomach with how he shifts around, hips seeking for something, for the friction they never find. “Is it about how easy you crumbled down? How easily I made you start whining? Cum without being touched? Hm? Tell me, Mikey.”

The wave of sulkiness that crosses Mikey’s face is washed down in a matter of seconds, his skin rising in little bumps due to a shiver. “Please? I need you to fuck me so bad, like– Really bad, (y/n), please!” And watching how he starts to undo his belt, bottom lip hanging so shaky breathes can go past his lips, is simply enough to have me standing up and bringing my backpack closer to the bed before I can climb over Mikey because after all, I didn’t come unprepared. His back hits the mattress with a muffled sound accompanied by a gasp.

“You sound so hopeless, y’know? So hot,” I breathe into his ear, swatting his hands away from his belt before running my hands up his torso, palms firm against the warm skin; he arches his back with a hum, adjusting his feet so they’re flat against the mattress. “I should’ve asked you to do that before. Also, black is your safeword, understood?” He nods. “Repeat it.”

“Black,” he mumbles.

“Good boy.”

Nothing but an audible swallow comes from Mikey as I carefully remove his glasses to leave them on the bedside table, proceeding to press kisses from his neck and down his chest. Despite the middle of his chest gaining attention, his nipples harden. I glance up at him – as if he could read my fucking thoughts or something – and pinch one of his nipples, surprised with how he actually leans into the touch, so I don’t hesitate to roll it between my fingers and run my tongue across the opposite nub, which makes an actual moan escape his lips this time, followed by a louder sound once I sink my teeth lightly into the skin.

“Sensitive here, I see, hm?” A smile tugs on my lips as I bring myself to sit up, between his legs, and undo his belt and soon remove his pants along with his underwear. Mikey has his bottom lip between his teeth, helping me get rid of the rest of his clothes. The sight of him without any of his clothes needs a moment to be appreciated, which I don’t hesitate in taking, resting my hands on his thighs.

The red tone over Mikey’s cheeks burn brighter, and he hums quietly, questioningly.

“I bet you’re not that quiet when it’s Ray railing you or something, are you?” I grin with a chuckle, taking my shirt off and meet the same embarrassed face, now glaring at me indignantly. “You were quieter than usual after that night you left Ray’s room, y’know? I remember how you were sitting quiet, seeming tired all day long. Doesn’t seem like you were as shy as you are now.”

“It wasn’t even that bad,” Mikey grumbles, but does nothing other than watch me get rid of my pants and then my underwear.

“Of course, Mikey,” I chuckle lazily, taking the lube from my backpack. “Such a sweet and quiet boy, I bet you’re not even into these sort of things that leave you full of marks later, which you can look at and remember how bad you are. Also don’t like being tied up or reduced to the cute little slut you totally aren’t.”

Mikey’s eyes follow me slowly and his reaction doesn’t really change – the only thing that signs how much he enjoys it is the way his cock twitches during the last words.

“What a shame, baby,” I sigh, pouring some of the liquid over my hand. “I had so much in mind for you.”

A throaty sound comes from him as I wrap my hand around his dick, the wet sounds easily filling the room along with his out of pace breathing and moans, which continue despite how I trail my hand down until reaching his entrance and tracing his hole – it clenches around the nothing, but I still manage to get a finger through the ring of muscles and snatch a moan from him.

“Y’know,” I mumble, “to fuck you against the mattress like you deserve. As a punishment for how you’ve been shooting me these looks these days. Almost drove me mad, so you better be proud of it.” A second finger slips in, interrupting with a moan whatever Mikey had to say. “But I think you wouldn’t like me to do it, would you? You haven’t really said much about it. You said you want me to fuck you good, but how good is it? How do I know if I’m not hurting you, pretty boy? You won’t even crack a word about it.”

When Mikey is about to say something, I press around for his prostate, successfully finding it and compelling him to only moan. Because it’s funny. He gets annoyed and it’s adorable.

“Fuck, no, I–” He moans shakily when I take a hold of his cock with my free hand. “Please, don’t, I-I can handle whatever, please just fuck me h-hard and–” He whines.

“You said you deserved to be fucked…” My thumb traces his tip and I watch it smearing the precum around before resuming it’s previous pumping motions. “You actually deserve to be punished, don’t you think? Fucking beg for it, Mikey, I know you can do better than that.”

Third finger. Louder moan, a whiny one. I make sure to tighten my hand around him.

“(Y–(Y/n), p-please, I-I–”

“You what, Mikey?”

He tugs at the sheets, knuckles going white as he arches his back, groaning. “Just fuck me please, please,” he mumbles repeatedly, breathy and almost incoherent. “I need it, hard and– and good!”

“What do you say about the looks?” I grin, feeling proud swell in my chest, but different this time.

Mikey’s thighs tremble a little and he pushes his hips into my hands, messily lowering his hips on my fingers and pushing them up into my fist. “S-Sorry…?”

“Now, that’s a good boy!” And I was about to say something else, something that simply disappears from my mind at how Mikey is fucking coming already, knuckles white around the sheets in contrast to his red cheeks while his thighs tremble. It’s long, resumed to broken moans and clumsy movements since he doesn’t stop until he’s whining and with his legs trembling. “Fucking dirty. I hope you can handle more because I’m not done.”

Mikey mumbles incoherently under his breath, nothing I care much about while cleaning my hands so I can grab the strap-on, more lube and a vibrator. The vibrator is the first one to go, its buzzing sound muffled at the moment I’m slipping it inside myself, easily snatching from me moans I’m not able to contain, only growing louder with how I coat my fingers with wetness to rub them across my clit, playing with it while I get used to the toy inside me and the nice burning slowly gives space to the pleasure, even more with the continuous vibration sending the pleasing feeling ringing up my spine. Only a moan coming from Mikey catches compels me to look up and the bastard is up on his elbows, watching me.

“Like it, Mikey?” I pause, rolling my bottom lip between my teeth for a moment. “‘Just came and continues moaning, you never get enough, do you, hun?”

“Maybe,” he sighs.

Now, the harness and more lube.

“Should I…?” Mikey makes a vague turning over motion.

“No.” I kneel down between his legs, hands hooked under his knees to pull his thighs up and he drops to the mattress with a startled sound. “Wanna see your pretty face when you come, Mikey, baby. I wasn’t expecting you to do it this time, so I don’t really think it counts.”

He doesn’t have the energy to argue, of course, but it’s still worth it seeing his attempt to.

“Ready?” My thumbs rub circles into his thigh then sinking down into the skin after he nods. His dick rests against his stomach half hard, but slowly becomes completely hard again once the strap’s dildo is inside him to the base and slowly moving because he doesn’t need time to adjust to it, already squirming his hips before anything can happen for real. He whines softly, bringing his hands above himself to grip at the pillows this time as his body gently rocks with the movement of my hips and I helplessly moan feeling the toy moving inside me, perfectly paired with the inside of the strap-on rubbing against my clit.

“So pathetic, Mikey,” I breathe, feeling the urge to say something – anything that has Mikey crumbling down more and more, which is not necessarily difficult. “Came to me to fucking ask to be fucked. Did you jerk off to how good I fingered you that day?” He whines. “Answer!”

“Y-Yeah,” Mikey gasps, arching his back, changing the angle in a way he moans louder, dick twitching; I wrap his legs around my waist to take a hold of his waist, holding him in place while fucking him faster. His mouth shapes in a stretched ‘o’ around the moans, sounding more breathy and higher-pitched this time.

“I bet you wouldn’t stop thinking about me if you accepted that hook-up,” I chuckle – or try to. “You’d moan my name out, wouldn’t you? Hopeless like you are.”

“‘Would,” he mumbles, throwing his head back.

The sweat that already accumulates on his skin reflects the light the lamps cast over his exposed throat then over his features when his head returns to its previous position. His choppy strands of hair glue to his face, thankfully not enough to considerably cover any of his features.

“How often did you think about it, Mikey? Enough to give you boners all day?” The last words sound tight in my throat with the moans I try to suppress, rolling my hips the way the vibrator reaches the perfect spot – I can’t help but to repeat the motion again, which apparently also reaches Mikey’s prostate just right with the way he arches his back, gripping on the sheets.

“I-I had to hide one during– during an interview,” he stutters, moaning. “A-And the bass covered m-most of them.”

“Poor Mikey, such a dirty fuck,” I hum. “Tell me how it was. What were you thinking about?”

“How… How good you fingered me.” Mikey pauses, inhaling and suppressing a moan. “And how you talked to me… And you said you could do better, so– Fuck,” he whines, throwing his head back again for a moment.

“‘Bet you’re in heaven right now, aren’t you? Looks so fucked out.”

And I take a pause, moving my hips in long and slow movements in order to avert my attention to somewhere else, to mouth at his chest and bring one of my hands to his pec. My thumb traces around his nipple, adding just the right pressure for a few moments then runs across the nub, playing with it. Any trace of annoyance coming from Mikey due to the slowing down of the movements disappears with it. He’s already sensitive from having come and was so desperate earlier, so he’s fucking melting right now. What a sight.

Mikey exhales shakily, tugging on the back of my hair until I’m forced to lift my head. For a second, I expect the safeword to escape his lips, but he instead presses them to mine, pulling me for a messy kiss. He hums against my lips with his tongue pressing down against mine and I try moving my hips and pinching his nipple, easily giving me the control over the kiss – Mikey gasps with how my teeth sink into his bottom lip.

“I hope you could see how miserable you look right now, y’know?” I mumble against his lips, pecking them a few times. “Maybe I should’ve fucked you in front of a mirror. Would you like it, Mikey?”

“A lot,” he says quietly through a moan, against my lips.

“Being the kinky fuck you are, of course you would.” I press my lips to his again, moaning against it this time as I let my hips move faster, inevitably having our teeth collide a couple of times before we can find a way to avoid it, muffling each other’s moans as the movements yet again grow fast. Both of my hands cup his chest now, softly touching and pressing down at the skin in soft gentle touches Mikey seems to enjoy, tightening his thighs around me and fingers sinking into my shoulders – he tenses up with a gasp, arching his back more.

Not breaking the kiss is hard. The moans escape my lips each time more, my breath picking up with how I can feel the release approaching in the distance, so I fuck Mikey harder, bringing a hand down to pump his cock in pace with the thrusts, and I don’t think he’s too far from releasing either.

A throaty sound comes from Mikey and he looks so good, so fucked and pleased when he’s looking at me through half-lidded eyes that are almost crossing, and lips slightly parted open.

“(Y/–(Y/n), can I–” He interrupts himself with a moan.

“Can you what, baby?” I mumble, making sure to keep the movements in a balance between hitting Mikey’s prostate and finding friction against my clit.

“Can I cum? Please, I’m– I’m so close!” Mikey’s high-pitched and weak voice goes directly to the gutter, summed up by the way he furrows his eyebrows and his mouth stretches in an ‘o’ shape again.

“You can. Do it for me, baby, go on.” I tighten my hand around him while going faster and he just fucking loses it, nails digging into my skin and leaving behind a nice burning feeling at the moment he’s coming, all over his own stomach, sticky and messy, and especially longer this time.

I don’t need much more, feeling the familiar pleasure finally run up my spine then down again, and I need to force myself to keep my eyes open to observe Mikey’s face as I fuck him through his release and it’s fucking worth it despite the sharp pain tugging on the back of my thighs and the oversensitiveness threatening to kick in by the moment he’s back to reality and panting heavily.

“Oh, wow,” I mumble, pulling away to remove the vibrator first before I can do the same to the strap-on. The toys are set aside on the bed and I leave the room with wobbly legs to come back with a warm cloth in order to clean Mikey. “You good?” I press a kiss to his cheek, being gentle as the shudders of pleasure still run down his body, making his legs twitch a little.

“Yeah, it was so, so good,” he hums, relaxing against the mattress.

“I’m glad.” I smile, making sure both of us are fine to discard the cloth and turn off the lights. So quiet. “D’you want the lamp on?”

“Oh, what? No, I need to leave already, I–”

My hand finds his before he can move properly; I give it a squeeze. “You’re not going anywhere, come here.” He squirms, but not seriously as I wrap my arms around him and press a kiss to his head, which is actually adorable.

“Do you think we… We can do it again?” Mikey’s voice is quiet, almost inaudibly cutting through the dark room.

“If you want to, I wouldn’t mind.”

[schrijverr]

Love makes blind

Chapter 3 out of 4

Jonny gets headaches, when the others find out it leads to the revelation that he actually needs glasses. Through the whole process, he and Tim grow closer as xe is there for Jonny.

Getting together, slow burn.

On AO3.

Ships: Jonny d; Ville x Gunpowder Tim

Warnings: There’s a bar brawl. Tell me if I missed anything or if you want me to tag something!

A/N: Tim uses xe/xem/xyr pronouns, I myself don’t so if I mess up, I apologize and please point it out to me :)

~~~~~~~~~~

They had reached a planet and Jonny and Tim were looking to cause some trouble. Ashes had caught onto their plan and promptly joined them when leaving the ship.

They wandered around until they found a seedy bar where a fight would be imminent. A bit smaller than they would otherwise go for, but Brian had told them explicitly to be back on time since they weren’t planning on staying for more than a day.

The patrons gave them dirty looks when they walked in and Jonny couldn't help but grin and wave at them, before ordering a bunch of alcohol.

Tim got a table in the center of the bar and they set to working through the bottles as they waited for someone to start shit they could jump on to join, however, all were prepared to start something themselves if it took too long.

“Hey, four-eyes.” apparently they did not have to wait, Jonny thought as he looked around to see what was happening between who.

Once he was turned around the voice spoke again: “Yeah, you. Who do you think you are smug little librarian prick.”

With a shock Jonny realized the halfway to comatose man was talking to him. Just in case he pointed at himself and asked: “Me?”

“Don’t play dumb, nerd.” the man was swaying, “You think you’re so much better than us. Coming in here with your smug little face.”

“Say that again.” a mix of anger and delight at the confrontation was flowing through his veins.

“Smug little four-eyed freak.” the man said, before punching Jonny in the face.

His glasses flew off, but Jonny had a lot of practice in fighting without them, something the man hadn’t counted on when he’d singled him out, and grabbed the man by the throat and punched him in the face until he collapsed.

Tim and Ashes had gotten up as well as Jonny looked around the bar, face splattered with blood and a manic grin plastered on, he grinned: “Who’s next?”

And that was their cue to start, some senseless violence to get the blood pumping.

In the end they had to resort to running to Aurora with law enforcement on their heels as they laughed while the fire spread through the city.

Tims hands clutched two halves of a pair of glasses. Xe had managed to pick them up before they had to flee and although they were broken, xe still held on tight to them.

Back on Aurora Tim handed them to Jonny as xe said: “They’re a bit broken, but they’re fixable, nothing a little tape won’t help until we can get them to Raph or Nastya.”

Jonny looked at the two halves of his glasses, before he turned to Tim with a broken look on his face as he stated: “That man was mad at me for wearing glasses. Why? What is so bad about wearing glasses, there is so much to say about me, but he picked that?”

Tim looked to Ashes for support, but it seemed they had walked on without them. Xe sighed sadly and told Jonny: “I don’t know, Jonny.”

“I don’t wanna wear em anymore. It’s stupid, I deserve to be beaten up for different things.” Jonny stated and dropped the halves, before stomping off.

Xe picked up the glasses again and sighed to himself, there was way too much to unpack there, even if it had just been badly selected phrasing on Jonnys part.

Still, xe took the glasses to xyr room and gently taped them together, before leaving them at Jonnys door, when the other wouldn't let xem in.

No one saw Jonny for a week after that and the glasses remained outside his door. Tim had told the others what had happened when he’d failed to show up for dinner for the third day in a row. Afterwards xe had caught multiple members of the crew outside his door trying to reason with him about the glasses, no success so far.

Then, suddenly, Tim got woken up in the middle on the night by someone knocking at xyr door, xe groaned and called out: “Yes?”

“Can I come in?” it was Jonny, he sounded tired and hurt.

Immediately Tim was out xyr bed and at the door, sliding it open with a bang. Jonny flinched at the sound as Tim asked: “Are you okay? What’s going on?”

The taped together glasses were perched on his nose, but he had his eyes closed as he miserably said: “The headaches came back.” he was near tears, “I thought I could go without them, but I wasn’t strong enough.”

“Oh, poor thing.” Tim sighed, leading Jonny to xyr bed as xe said: “There is no strength connected to this, you can’t help it, you were good enough.”

Jonny shivered beneath xem at the words and allowed himself to be tucked into Tims bed.

“Did you drink enough?” Tim asked.

He shook his head and admitted: “I didn’t want to leave my room and drinking straight from the tab is too much work.”

“Then I’ll get you a glass.” Tim told him gently.

“You’re leaving me?” he asked, still not opening his eyes, but fear in his voice.

“No, I have a glass in my bathroom, I’ll be back in a moment. Here get comfortable.” xe got the glasses of his face and petted the top of his head for a second.

When xe returned with the glass of water, Jonny was softly swaying back and forth with his eyes closed as he hummed under his breath and fiddled with the blanket.

He startled slightly when the bed dipped under Tims weight, but he relaxed when xe said: “It’s just me. Here, hold out your hand and I’ll give you the water.”

Jonny took it gratefully and started to drink, only slowing down when Tim warned: “Small sips, calm down, dear.”

Again a pet name, Tim wanted to call Jonny them so badly, but xe couldn't, still somehow they managed to slip out at the worst times and xe was always too late to stop them from tumbling out of xyr mouth.

However it didn’t seem like Jonny had noticed as xe took the glass out of Jonnys hands and set it down on the bedside table, before crawling up the bed. Xe asked: “You want to talk about it or just lie here for now? Should I do the same as last time then?”

“Would you mind just- yeah, doing the same?” Jonny sounded small and unsure.

Despite knowing Jonny couldn't see xem, xe smiled anyway: “Of course. Just lie down.”

Jonny sagged against the pillow and Tim carefully laid down on top of him, not believing how much Jonny must trust xem, to keep his eyes closed the entire time and to let Tim take the lead to take care of him.

Xe vowed to never break Jonnys trust as xe got comfortable on his chest, pushing xyr hands under Jonnys shoulder blades as xe waited for Jonny to drop off to dreamland, something xe didn’t have to wait long for.

The next morning xe was awoken again, this time by hands carding through xyr hair and soft vibrations under xyr head as soft melodies drifted through the air. Xe sighed and burrowed into the warm chest as xe mumbled: “Five more minutes.”

Someone chuckled, Jonny, xyr mind registered, which was confirmed when the familiar voice said: “Didn’t mean to wake you up, you can go back to sleep.”

The offer was very tempting, but Tim knew xe was lying on top of Jonny cuddling him and it would probably be weird and less than platonic to go back to sleep while knowing that, so xe rolled off Jonny and said: “No, I’m awake, held you captive long enough under me, sorry for that, by the way, you’re allowed to push me off, you know.”

Jonny shrugged: “Didn’t want to, you seemed too peaceful to wake up and it was the least I could do after barging into your room in the middle of the night.”

The events flooded back and Tim cracked open one eye and asked: “You okay? Want to talk about it now?”

“I rather not talk about it, but I’m fine.” he leaned over Tim and gently slapped the nightstand in search of his glasses, putting them back on his face he sighed: “Better get these fixed, seems like I’m stuck wearing them forever.”

“If you don’t want to talk about it I could take them to Raphaella to get them fixed.” Tim offered, an idea forming in xyr mind.

Jonny smiled at xem, glasses crooked on his face, before he said: “That’s sweet, but I’m taking them to Nastya, haven’t seen her in a while and she likes yelling at me for being stupid.”

“As long as you’re sure.” Tim checked in one last time.

“I am.” Jonny said, “Really I’m fine, just hated that and then with the headache it only amplified the badness.” his voice got soft, “Thank you, for letting me stay here again.”

“It’s what friends do.” Tim told him, wishing they were so much more than that.

Meanwhile Jonny nodded, yes, friends, they were just friends. It didn’t matter that Jonny was trying to spend all his time with Tim and get xyrs attention constantly, that xe was the only person beside Nastya he trusted enough to turn to for comfort.

“I’ll get going then, maybe you can fall asleep again.” he told Tim, wishing he could lie down next to xem and curl up in xyr arms again without him being weird, to soothe the ache in his heart that he felt whenever he looked at Tim knowing xe wasn’t his.

Tim waited until Jonnys footsteps had faded, before xe rolled out of bed and got ready to face the day. Xe’d gotten an idea and with Jonny at Nastyas, this was the perfect time.

Xe set off towards Raphaella sneaking into Jonnys room beforehand to snatch up the pair of goggles that lay on the sink next to some of Jonnys make up and other knickknacks.

Once xe had explained xyr idea to Raphaella she’d clapped in her hands and told xem, she could be done in half an hour, since she had made spare lenses just in case.

With the goggles in hand xe set out to find Jonny and give him the goggles. Xe knew that Nastya would probably be holed up in the engine room, so Jonny would probably be there as well. Xe was about to knock, when xe heard Jonny exclaimed: “Xe doesn’t like me like that, you’re delusional, Nastya.”

“No, you’re just too blind to see.” Nastya replied.

“Of course I’m blind, you have my glasses.” Tim could hear the pleased smirk in the statement.

“You’ve become somehow even more annoying since you got glasses.” Nastya told him, “And you’re deflecting, don’t think I wouldn't notice.”

Jonny groaned, before he whined: “You’re just seeing that, because you want to see that. Xe doesn’t care for me like that, didn’t I just tell you xe told me about being friends this morning? Honestly, I thought you were paying attention.”

“I was and I’m not seeing things because I want to. I see them, because I have eyes. It’s quite disgusting how mushy you two are even without being together.” Nastya said, “And as for the friend thing, I would bet xe is just trying to keep it as platonic as possible to avoid making you uncomfortable.”

“Still don’t believe you, provide your evidence.” Jonny told her.

Tim felt hope creeping up xyr body, was it possible that Jonny liked xem back? They were talking about xem that was obvious and it seemed like Jonny wanted xem to like him and that Nastya had caught on to xyr feelings for Jonny and if she would give a good enough answer, maybe Jonny would see it too.

Excitedly xe leaned against the door and waited for Nastyas answer. She sighed: “Why do I need to solve your relationship problems?”

“Okay, one, not in a relationship, so not technically relationship problems. Two, I helped you and Aurora get together, so I think you owe me.” Jonny replied.

“Ugh, maybe.”

Jonny cheered, making Tim smile outside, without realizing xe did, at the happy sound from Jonny.

“So, evidence, right. You want evidence?” Nastya waited for Jonny to confirm, “Lets start with how xe looks at you, if I just saw that I would think you personally created the world just for xem. I can see heart eyes from miles away with xem.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, xe might have metal eyes, but it’s almost like they’re heart shaped.” Nastya confirmed, “Then how xe gets around you, that person goes soft.”

“What, that’s just xem. Xe’s nice.”

“God, you get that same disgusting love-sick look that xe gets.” Nastya groaned, “But no, xe’s not always like that, xe melts when you enter a room. It’s physically visible to see xem sag with mushiness. And then xe also gets all nice with you, xe’s an asshole with everyone else, but xe’ll open doors for you, save you a seat, make sure we have your favourite drink on board. It’s sweet, but also disgusting.”

Tim blushed as she just laid out xyr soul for Jonny to inspect and xe was glad that xe couldn't see Jonny right now. Xe didn’t think xe could take it, if Jonny was weirded out by it.

“Xe really does all that?” Jonny asked, his voice was strange, almost a bit float-y, “Not just being friendly, cause we’re friends?”

“No, Jonny, no, please open your goddamn eyes.” there was a fond undertone in Nastyas annoyance, “Want me to go on?”

“There’s more?” Jonny sounded surprised.

“There’s more?” Nastya mocked him, “Of course there is. Xe’s constantly complementing you about every little thing.”

Tim couldn't see Jonny frown slightly at that. He remembered Tims promise to never make him forget that he was good enough, it made him happy inside to know that xe wouldn't break a promise to him and he didn’t like how Nastya had said it.

“Xe’s keeping a promise, nothing more.” Jonny said.

“What kind of promise was that?” Nastya asked.

Jonny didn’t answer and she rolled her eyes: “Whatever it was, it isn’t exactly platonic to promise someone to complement them constantly.”

“It’s a friend thing.” Jonny insisted.

“Well, it didn’t sound very platonic and just a friend thing when xe talked about you with Ashes.” Nastya exclaimed.

Tim froze, how did Nastya know that? Ashes promised not to tell, they swore on their candle collection.

“How do you know that?” see this is why xe liked Jonny, he asked great questions.

“I was fixing something in the vents and overheard them. I didn’t mean to, but Aurora was hurting.” she had the dignity to sound sheepish.

Quietly Jonny asked: “Is it wrong to ask what they talked about?”

“I mean, probably.” Nastya answered.

It was silent for a few beats, then Jonny said: “No, that would be mean. I know I would hate it, if xe knew I was talking about xem like this.”

“Look at you taking the moral high ground.” Tim could barely hear Nastyas reply over the blood rushing past xyr ears. Xe was breaking Jonnys trust by being here, Jonny had the mind to let xem be, but xe had to go and just listen to him.

Xe swallowed hard and clutched the goggles, before running off as fast as xe could to hide away from Jonny in shame. Xe couldn't believe xyrself, how could xe been so selfish?

While Tim was running away Jonny took his now fixed glasses back from Nastya and said: “Thanks for that. I, uh, I’ll see if I talk to xem.”

“I will never breathe a word of this, if you promise to talk to xem to moment you run into xem.” Nastya replied.

“And if I don’t?” Jonny was a bit scared.

“If you don’t and I have to watch you two dance around each other again, I will tell xem what you told me here, myself.” she answered.

“Promise I will then.” he squeaked and hurried out of the room, before she could do anything.

“Don’t be a stranger, well, be a bit of a stranger, but not too much.” she called out after him.

“Yes, m’lady.” he yelled back, knowing he was out of range.

[radiosteve]

Need Your Loving Tonight Ch. 18

Summary: Following your decision on John’s proposal, you decide that it’s time for a heart to heart with Roger.

Note: Hope everyone enjoys this one. The next chapter is going to be a big one so get ready. As always, the italicized part is the reader’s thoughts. The photo is one that I found on google. I do not own any rights to it. If you want to be added to the taglist send me a message or an ask and I’ll add you!  

Warnings: Language, Angst

Pairing: Roger Taylor x Reader, John Deacon x Reader

Words: 3.4k+

  November 11, 1974

 You rose with the sun that morning, relishing in its cold glare through the icy windowpane as you lay in your bed for just a few minutes more. The empty space next to you seemed odd, but you knew it was for the best. Untwining yourself from the tangle of sheets around you, your feet hit the cool wood floors, wading across them to get ready for the day ahead. It was going to be a long day, full of questions from coworkers and friends all about your seemingly eventful and long weekend. 

 Sally dropped you off on her way to work this morning, telling you it was too cold to walk. But you knew that it was more so a desperate attempt to get you really talking. She knew that your head was comparable to a warzone at the moment and just wanted to help lift the heavy weight from your chest. But still you persisted, stubborn and silent in the front seat of Sally’s car as the wheels ground into the pavement. Sally pulled into the lot beside the bank and shifted into park before turning to look at you. You had already begun to grab your things and open the car door when her hand reached out to stop you. 

 “Y/n,” Sally’s voice was quiet, as if she was scared to speak to you. “You know that you can tell me everything, right?” her eyes desperately roamed over yours, trying to sense any semblance of emotion within them. To see if you truly were alive under there. 

 “I know,” you faked smiled as you spoke and stepped out of the car before quickly closing the door and rushing towards the bank. You heard Sally roll down her window and call out to you, telling you that she’d pick you up when you got off later before you managed to take out your keys and unlock the front bank door. You were working the opening shift this morning along with Carol and one other girl. You moved quickly across the lobby and stepped into the back room where you noticed Carol fixing her hair in her tiny compact mirror. She stopped dead in her tracks as soon as she saw you enter, closed her compact and rushed towards you. Carol enveloped you in her arms, hugging you close to her body as you dropped your purse to hug her back. Oh god, not again.

 “Oh my god!” she shouted, her face a mixture of shock and thoughtfulness. “I honestly can’t believe it,” she shook her head as she spoke.

 “Me neither, this all seems so surreal,” your words echoed all the many other times you’d been put into similar conversations throughout the weekend. 

“Well,” Carol started, pushing back from her hug to grab for your hands. “Let me see it!” she spoke excitedly, and a wide toothy grin appeared on your face. You lifted up your left hand, showing off the sparkling diamond ring that John had placed there after you cheerily accepted his proposal. “Oh, it’s so beautiful! I’m so excited for you,” Carol squealed as she examined the ring. It was small but it was still gorgeous, and you knew it was the best John could afford at the moment, given his musician’s salary. Carol dropped your hand slowly and moved back over towards her stuff, giving you a chance to take off your jacket. “Was that the husband to be that dropped you off earlier?” Carol resumed fixing her hair in the compact as she asked.

 “No, that was my friend Sally. John didn’t spend the night yesterday. He’s been stuck with the boys since Saturday doing promotions for the new album. He slept at his apartment last night,” you picked up your purse from the ground and placed it on the table before you, beginning to unload it. 

 “Oh, that’s right. I almost forgot about their new album with all the marriage talk right now. I picked up a copy of it after work on Friday,” Carol spoke, and you nodded. “They’re pretty good. I might have to go with you to see them when they go on tour,” she smiled and you reciprocated it before heading out of the room, preparing for the busy workday ahead.

 ----------------------------

 Sally picked you up from work just as she said she would, and you greeted her with a tight-lipped smile.

 “In the mood to talk yet?” she asked as she quirked an eyebrow. “Or will this drive be just as quiet as the one this morning?” Sally looked over at you before darting her eyes back towards the road. 

 “I just wasn’t sure what to say,” you spoke softly, eyes locked on the road ahead. The soft glow of red from the stop light above highlighting your skin the words fled your lips. “I mean, I’ve definitely thought about my decision more in depth and I still think that I made the right choice,” Sally was looking at you as a soft drizzle began to beat down on the windshield of her car. The light turned green and the car slowly lurched forward down the street.

 “I just want to make sure that you’re happy, love. That you’ve made the best choice and explored all possible outcomes before committing yourself to anything as serious as marriage,” Sally’s eyes were fixed on the road, but you slowly turned your gaze towards her.

 “All possible outcomes?” you questioned, feeling a familiar guilt grow deep in your stomach as you repeated Sally’s words. The car stopped at another light and Sally stared deeply into your eyes. The drizzle outside slowly came down harder until it became full on rain.

 “Roger,” she spoke simply, gaze still locked on you. “What is going on between you and him, whatever you feel for each other, you need to figure it the fuck out before you get married,” Sally spoke straightly to you and if it was someone else, you may have taken offense. But this was Sally, she knew you better than anyone else (besides Brian). And you knew that she was right, no matter how much you didn’t want her to be.

 You were going to have to talk to Roger, to sort out everything between the two of you within the next few days. You would have to do the one thing you’d been avoiding throughout the entire weekend. You had to confront Roger. And for the moment, you felt just the rain falling outside, heavy and dangerous.  

 November 13, 1974

 The room had grown dark around you, the only source of light came from the flickering television across the room. The sun had still been out when you sat down on the couch, waiting for him to arrive, but the hours passed, and the light dwindled. The old black and white movie flashing over the small screen told some tale of romance, one that you didn’t care to follow. Instead of paying attention to the television, your focus was more so on the nervousness that you felt building up within you. Your thumb rose to your lips and you proceeded in your habit of biting at the cuticles resting around the nail. If Sally was here, she’d probably slap your hand away, trying to salvage any remnant of nail polish left behind, but she wasn’t here. No one was. Except you. 

 A knock radiated throughout the room and you almost felt like you were imagining it. You’d waited so long, thought so hard about what to say, only to freeze up when the moment finally arrived. Your knees cracked as you stood up from the couch, feeling the tension relieved after sitting still for so long. With small steps, you approached the door, taking deep breaths as you did so. You swung the door inwards, coming face to face with the man that had been clogging your head. Roger Taylor. He offered you a small smile and you returned it. You flicked on the lights, illuminating your apartment’s living room and drowning out the light from the television as Roger entered. 

 Roger sat down in his usual chair, trying his best not to seem awkward but failing miserably. You sat back in your previous spot which no doubt had a small indentation from you sitting there for so long. The air between the two of you was thin and silent, creating a tension so thick that you felt like you could barely see. Like a fog had eclipsed the room in a curtain so specific to this one area. The sound from the movie playing on the television proved to be the only noise between the two of you until Roger finally spoke up.

 “I’ve seen this before,” he said dryly, but still effectively breaking the ice. “This is the one where the girl falls in love with two guys. They both try to win her heart the best they can,” his words were quiet, as if he felt like he shouldn’t be here, like he was going to disturb someone by talking louder. 

 “Who does she choose? I mean, who does she end up with?” you asked, trying to flow with any conversational topic.

 “I don’t really remember actually. I think she ends up with the quiet, brooding one, but I can’t remember how,” he looked towards his hands folded in his lap, avoiding your eye line the best he could. The two of you sat in silence for a few more minutes after that, both acting like you were invested in the movie. “Why did you ask me to come here?” Roger’s voice broke through the air, pulling your half-glazed stare from the film playing before you. 

 “I- uh, I wanted to talk to you. I needed to talk to you,” you began and looked over at Roger only to find him staring back at you. He nodded slightly, pushing you to continue on as he listened. “A lot has happened in the past week, with me, with you, with everybody it seems. And I feel like I need to clear some things up, to get them off my chest before anything else changes too,” Roger’s eyes were still fixed on you and you felt your heart pounding beneath your ribcage, begging to be let out. 

 “That’s probably a good idea. I don’t think we’ve talked much in a while. You always seem to be busy whenever I try,” he flashed you a sad smile and trained his gaze back towards the floor. A sigh escaped your lips as you gazed over towards him. Roger’s hair laid perfectly around his face, framing it to best highlight his cheekbones. His hair was lighter now, as if he’d been out in the sun all day, but you knew it wasn’t from that. Roger’s large blue eyes still faced the wooden floorboards despite the desperate pleading gaze that offered. His eyelashes floated up and down as he blinked every few seconds, touching his cheek with every downward movement. You just wanted him to look at you. To see you the way you saw him. To clear your chest of any unspoken feelings and move on. You just wanted to rid yourself of this terrible feeling that lines the walls of your stomach each time you think of him. And little did you know, he wanted all of those things too.  

 “Roger,” you spoke softly, trying to attain his attention. He hummed a response but still avoided peering up from the ground. His nerves and fear of rejection took over despite his want for it not to. “Please look at me,” your words funneled through his ears, slowly lifting him upright in his seat. The blue of his eyes floated over your figure, slowly leading up to your face until he stopped. The two of you now sitting eye to eye.

 “Yes, love?” he nearly whispered it, and you felt a chill run down your spine. The feeling that you were doing something wrong, something that you shouldn’t, overtook you. 

 “There are things I need to say, things I need to do before I can move on and ‘grow up’, you know? And it’s terrifying. The way people feel, the way I feel, all of it seems to progress and grow so quickly that sometimes you just lose track of it along the way,” you spoke rapidly, all the words coming out in one jumbled mess. “I never thought that this would be where my life took me. London, I mean. I always kind of pictured myself moving to New York after I graduated. Living in a small apartment downtown, going out every weekend, watching tourists go through Times Square. I saw it all so clearly before. But then I moved here, and I know that all of that was wrong. That I belonged here in London, not New York. Do you get what I’m saying?” You continued rambling on while Roger’s eyes stayed trained on you.

 “No, not really. Why did you need to tell this to me?” Roger’s eyebrows were furrowed in confusion and his head shook from side to side, but his attention was still matted onto you. The television playing in the background was long forgotten as his ears focused solely on you. 

 “What I mean is that things change. People, feelings, they all change over time. And I’m talking about you. My feelings have changed for you,” the word vomit flooded from your mouth leaving Roger with wide eyes and parted lips. 

 “Your feelings for me have changed how?” he asked, trying to readjust his expression as he did so. Trying to eliminate any look that resembled hope on the off chance that your words would be negative. 

 “Well, you’re very much aware that I used to like you, hence us sleeping together in the past,” Roger nodded, feeling a tug at his heart as he remembered that night so vividly in his mind. “And after that I became a little resentful of you because of how badly you ended up hurting my feelings,” you still looked at Roger despite the nervousness that now filled your bones.

 “I know and I’m so sorry. I was a total ass and I never should have used you like that,” he was telling the truth, you knew that from the look on his face. 

 “I know, Rog,” you gave him a small smile which he returned. “But then things started to get better, we became closer as friends and hung out more. The band even started to take off, which was great. Then John came into the picture and you started getting a little distant. I mean we didn’t talk for a while and there was that fight we had at the one Christmas party, and that really sucked,” a small tear prickled its way along your lash line, threaten to fall. “But, you know, sometimes feelings linger. Sometimes they come back even when you don’t want them to. And I’m happy with John. I love him, I’m in love with him. But sometimes I get this feeling that it’s not supposed to be me and him. Instead, when I’m feeling like that, I think that it’s you. That it’s supposed to be me and you in the end, not John,” the tears spilled over your cheeks, smearing what little makeup you had on and dropping down into your lap. Your faded red pants now stained with wet droplets of tears as your chest heaved and your clouded eyes tried to stay focused on Roger.

 “I-I don’t know what to say,” Roger was rendered speechless. No snarky remarks, no snappy comebacks, or retaliations of any kind. It was like he suddenly forgot how to speak.

 “Please, Rog. Just say something. Tell me how you feel,” your pleading eyes bore into him, searching for anything to grab onto. An expression, a look, anything. 

 “How lo- how long have you felt this way? Felt like we would end up together,” his voice was quiet and unreadable. Your chest shook slightly as you took in another ragged breath.

 “Probably since we started getting close again after sleeping together. You weren’t hanging around with as many girls and you really seemed to care about me. It made me feel like I could trust you again,” your heart was pounding as each syllable left the tip of your tongue, plunging out into the open space between you and Roger.

 “You waited that long to tell me?” his eyes now matched yours, filling with tears as he spoke, trying to look through them to see you. You nodded a response, finding your throat too choked up from the crying to speak. “I could have had you,” his words were gentle, making the blood pumping through your veins quicken ever so slightly. “I could have had you all this time. Long before we met John. Way before you started dating, and ages before the two of you fell in love. You could have been mine, Y/n,” the tears pouring down his face fell into his hair which now looked messier than before.

 “I still can be, Rog. That’s why you’re here, that’s why I’m telling you this. Because feelings change, but mine never did. Not really. I still love you. I’m pretty sure that I always have,” the words fell from your lips rapidly, desperately attempting to make Roger understand.

 “No, no, no. You’re in love with John. You’re dating John. You’re engaged to John. There is no point in your narrative where I come in,” Roger shifted in his seat clearly uncomfortable now.

 “But there could be! Don’t you understand? Yes, I’m in love with John but I’m also in love with you! I could end my engagement if need be. I just want a chance. A chance with you. To see where we could end up. To know of all feasible possibilities!” you stood from the couch, now towering over Roger as you spoke, your tears spilling onto the floor.

 “But that’s not how it works! You don’t just get to try me on for size because you’re afraid that your relationship won’t work out. I’m not some toy for you to play with! If you felt this way all along then you would have acted on it long before John came along. And as for exploring possibilities, you can’t always get what you want,” Roger stood up from his chair, moving towards the door, far away from you. “I don’t know what your agenda is, what your plan is, but if it involves hurting the people you supposedly love, then I suggest you shut that shit down,” Roger turned the handle on the front door and looked back at you. 

 Mascara was streaked down your cheeks and your eyes were red and puffy. Roger’s gaze floated over you for a moment more before he turned around and slammed the door behind him. You flopped back on the couch in a fit of sobs. Snot filled your nose as tears fell down onto the couch. You curled into a ball so tight that you could barely breathe as your chest heaved with your heavy cries.

 Sally came home an hour later to find you asleep on the couch. A sigh left her lips, knowing that this was a bad sign. She grabbed your pillow from your room and gently lifted your head onto it, trying her best not to wake you up. Sally took the blanket from the chair Roger had sat in and draped it over your shivering body. She got some wipes from the bathroom and removed the mascara stains from your cheeks in an effort to make you look as though you hadn’t been crying all night. After all of that, Sally went into her bedroom and threw down her belongings before moving over to the phone in the corner of her room. She picked it up, dialing a number that she regretted knowing by heart. It rang a few times before the gruff voice answered.

 “What the hell happened between the two of you? She fell asleep crying on the sofa,” Sally spoke into the phone, her tone desperate for answers.

 “I don’t want to be a second choice,” Roger answered simply. Sally opened her mouth to reply but the line went dead before she could. She was left alone with a disconnected telephone in one hand and more questions than answers swirling around in her head. And she knew that this was going to be bad.

 Taglist: @retromusicsalad @bohemiansweede​ @deaconsroger @queen-crue​ @ohtheseboysilove​ @queeniesteiins @kemeryyyy @onceuponadetectivedemigod​ @ixchel-9275​ @rogmeddows​ @ziggymay​ @deakysmisfire​ @rogertaylorsfalsettogivesmehives​ @briarrose26​ @greatdinosaursalad​ @queendeakyy​ @killer-qu33n-of-disaster​ @mi55chanandlerbong​ @rogertaylorseyelashes​

[shawnpetermuffins]

Pictured with You (xii.)

A/n: wow, we only have 2 more chapters after This! This series has gone by way too quickly!

Summary: It's time you stop playing games. Brian and Connor are here to make sure it comes to an end.

Warnings: none? But it is told in both Brian's and Connor's POV, so like that's new.

Word count: 2k

***

Two confessions. I've got the two confessions that I needed - even though, let's be real, they didn't need to say it for me to know, but it helps. The only difficult thing now is getting them in the same room together so that they can admit to each other too. They're both so stubborn it's nearly impossible to get either of them to see that what they're doing is hurting them more than it is helping. But that's where I come in. But I'm gonna need a little help if I'm going to pull this off. So I'm in search of the one person that knows y/n better than Shawn does.

I text Connor after I leave y/n', informing him that I'm on my way to his room.

"What's so important that you couldn't just text me?" He asks, opening the door wide enough for me to slip through.

"I have a project for you."

"For me?" He crosses his arms over his chest and sits down on the arm rest of the couch.

"Yeah, I need you to take your footage from the last few months of tour and I need you to look for something in it."

"Okay… what am I looking for?"

"Anything and everything that has to do with Shawn and y/n."

"What?"

"We're getting them together," I say like it's the most obvious thing in the world, which it should be.

He doesn't say anything for a long while. Actually I start to doubt if he even heard that last part, but then he sighs heavily. "Brian, I can't help you."

"What? Why?"

"It's complicated," he answers, but I know it isn't. Because these are two people we care so much about, there shouldn't be anything complicated about it. "Please, Connor. You have to help me get them together. I can't stand seeing them pining for each other like this anymore."

He shakes his head, "I promised her that I'd stay out of their relationship, or whatever it is now. I just can't. It's not that I don't want to, but I can't betray her like that."

"Dude! You'd be helping her out!"

"You may see it that way, but-"

"No, listen." I sit on the edge of the table. "You film literally everything. I know you do. You have probably hours of footage of them just goofing around in the dressing room, and walking down the street holding hands, and leaning on each other in the restaurants. This is what we need to get them there. If you just compile it up, I'm sure it will get them to realize that they need each other."

"Okay," he nods. "Yes, I have all that, but she would kill me if she knew I was filming them all that time."

I sigh and run my hands roughly over my face, "Connor, for one second. Just one second, I need you to stop thinking about what she's going to feel towards you. I know she's your best friend, you don't want to betray her trust. I get that because I feel the same about Shawn. But we're hurting them more by not helping them. We're letting them be miserable when it's the most obvious thing in the world that they want to be together. That they need each other. Not pushing them is selfish."

"Okay, and what if this push isn't what they need? What if this push actually ruins them? What do we do then? Are we going to have to live with knowing that their downfall could have been avoided had we not inserted ourselves into their personal relationship. I don't want that to be on our shoulders. I don't want that on your shoulders."

"What is it that makes you so fucking sure that they'll break up?"

"Because they're just how she and I were!"

I stare at him for a minute, trying to figure out if he's for real or not. "So you did have a thing."

He just nods, "Yeah. We did."

"Is that why you won't help? Because you're still hung up on her? Because I swear to god, I will drop kick you so hard right now if that's the reason."

Connor holds his hands up, "No! Jesus, I really need to stop pausing before I continue talking. I don't want her back. I don't. She and I both know that us going out was a mistake." He runs his fingers through his hair, "I don't want her to experience that again. Because we didn't talk for months after we broke up, and it was a mural break up."

"She's twenty-one. Let her live a little, damn. You can't protect her from heartbreak, Con. If it happens, it happens. You're not her brother. You're not her father. You're not her protector. She's very capable of making her own decisions about a guy. And she wants him."

"How do you know she still does?"

"Because she told me literally two seconds ago. Just like she told me the only reason she won't get with him while We're on tour is because she doesn't want him to get too used to them being with each other all the time."

"What are you talking about?"

"Eventually Josiah is gonna come back for tour. And y/n is going to be back at home doing photoshoots there. She doesn't want him getting comfortable with that consistency."

"You see? That! That's why I'm scared for her! I'm worried that it's not going to be consistent. That he won't be consistent."

"He may not always be in the same place," I agree, "but he's never not been there when someone needed him. You know that. You know that he would drop everything if she needed him."

He sighs and looks down at his feet, his hands in his pockets. "I know."

"So are you gonna help me or not?"

---

So now I'm sitting here, going through my footage with Brian ghosting over my shoulder, watching me choppily put the snippets together just to have them saved.

"I like this one," he points to my screen where y/n and Shawn are trying and failing to copy Shakira's 'hips don't lie' choreography. The video is kinda shaky because I'm trying to get closer to them, but I'm laughing so hard that my body is shaking too. The video cuts out shortly after they land on the couch, y/n's body on top of Shawn's, her head resting on his fast beating chest while they remain cackling.

"Yeah, I like it too," I drag the video to my editor and we go through more.

"What's this one?" Brian's finger hovers over a snippet marked "Staying in Paris." I click on it, scrolling through until I find the part I know is there. They're in front of the lit up Eiffel tower, it's late. Her camera covers most of her face while she takes a picture of Zubin and Eddy back to back on the grass in front of her. She's focused on them, but his eyes don't stray from her. When she stands from her crouching position, his hand almost immediately finds the small of her back. When I played the footage back the first time, I brushed this off as him trying to steady her, but I see the pure longing in his eyes now, and when she very subtly falls into his touch, I know it was more than that.

Video after video I put them to edit, until I have nearly fifteen minutes of just them. Moments that I know they aren't aware I was filming. Like on the first night of tour. They're, for the most part, alone in his dressing room and she's fixing the shoulders of his shirt. You can barely hear them over the chaos down the hall, but you can just catch y/n say, "Trying to kill these girls with your chest hair, Mendes?"

"Only trying to get one girl's attention," his hands are on her arms, rubbing half circles on her skin with his thumbs.

Then there's one from the San Antonio show, we're at Starbucks and y/n is reaching into her bag for her money, but Shawn placed his hand over hers, ordering his drink and then handing the barista his card. Y/n tries to push his hand away but he chuckles and wraps his arm loosely around her waist, his hand on her thigh. He takes his card back and they move to the side so Mike can order his drink.

I find one that I know Brian will want for the video. The kiss from the dressing room. But the one we're watching now is horrible quality because it's from my phone, and it was that night at the bar. You can barely see because of the dark light in the room, but you see her lips touch Shawn's and the shot glass that was between his teeth just seconds before now slides between their close bodies.

"You got this one?" He asks, looking down at me and I just nod.

"I don't know why I thought to get it, I just did, I guess. I mean, we obviously don't have to use it, but-"

"No. No, use it. Use them all. This is - this is exactly what we need."

I close my computer and turn to face my red-headed friend. "So, we have a video. What are we gonna do to get them in the same place?"

"Well, first. How long is it going to take you to edit that?" He gestures toward the laptop and I shrug.

"I don't know. A week, maybe? It just depends on how much time I have when I'm not editing the behind the scenes stuff."

"Okay… I have a plan. It's gonna be tricky, but I think we can make it happen if we get a little more help."

I nod, "Lay it on me."

---

(Bold is Connor's POV, regular is Brian, bold italics is both)

This plan took nearly the rest of tour to execute, let me just tell you. It was nearly four months of planning and I'm still not even sure if we did everything we said we were going to. But Brian was convinced that we could pull this off and so far, so good. There were, of course, a couple of almost slip ups, but we were able to save ourselves from having to explain ourselves, and our plan to Andrew, who would no doubt throw a tantrum if he found out what we were up to. And it's both fortunate and not that y/n and Shawn still aren't talking to each other. They're much better at being around each other though. They can finally stand in the same room without one of them coming up with an excuse to leave. But I don't see that being the case tonight. One of them was bound to go into fight or flight mode when they saw what Brian and I had cooked up.

"Dude, what's the rush?"

"Why are you so eager to get to the roof?"

"The lighting is perfect. You'll get the best photos."

"It's nice outside. I just want to enjoy the fresh air. And since when do you have something against roofs?"

"I don't."

"Okay, but bouncing in place relentlessly isn't going to make me tie my shoes faster. If anything it'll only make me go slower."

"Please, y/n."

"Please, Shawn."

"Jesus, alright. I just need to get my camera and we can go."

"Okay, okay. Let me get my phone. Don't think I'll need it, but just in case."

I send a quick text to Brian when we leave her room.

We're in the elevator.

He's quick to reply.

Just about to head that way. Make sure she's not facing the door.

I know that what's about to happen doesn't necessarily have anything to do with me, but I can feel my stomach turning all the same. I'm scared something will go wrong. But I push the fear to the side when we reach the roof.

No turning back now.

***

Tag: @curlyshawny @anamariel2301 @shawns-badreputation @bbellbagel @turtoix @ivegotparticulartaste @tomshufflepuff @dino-16-avocado @sleepybesson

PWY TAG: @lifeoftheparty74 @learning-howto-be-myselfx3 @alinaxxshawn @rosesfromcth @5-seconds-of-mendes @sweetheartmendes @shawnwyr @strangerliaa @xoxohannahlee @thenovarose @justanotherfangurl272 @particularmila @buckwildflower @shawnmendes048 @itrocksmysocks

I hope you enjoyed!! Like, reblog, and leave feedback!! 💙

[iamnotbrianmay]

frian with 17) “If you don’t hug me right now I think I might fall apart.”

Okay, so I don't actually like the wording of this phrase, however, I love the prompt, so I’m changing the words up a bit! Here it goes! I hope you like it! 

☼ 

Circa 1979

The world was falling around Brian, and there was nothing he could do about it. 

It seemed like the news had spread faster than wildfire, and the newspapers that had been praising their performance only a few days ago were now tearing them apart. They were tearing John and Roger for letting their children and wives hang around people like them. 

They were tearing Freddie and Brian for loving each other. 

And everywhere that he turned, the guitarist seemed to find himself looking at the daunting headlines and that one fateful picture. The one that had made their lives fall apart in a matter of seconds. 

The one that caused his mother to call him, begging Brian to tell her it was just a mistake. The one that had made hundreds of hateful letters flood into their mail. The one Brian was sure that Freddie was going to hate him for because if someone had been pressing for their relationship to be kept secret was Freddie. 

Freddie who trembled in fear of someone finding out. Freddie who had even gone out of his way to buy three different houses, one for him, one for Brian, and their home— to keep appearances. Freddie, who had begged Brian with tears in his eyes not to come out to his parents in fear that the Mays would sell them out. 

And in the end, it was Brian who had gone out and ruined everything. 

He was walking with his head hung low, a hood over his mass of curls, and hot, silent, tears streaming down his face. He had opted to walk from where he had been when he had heard the news towards their house. Scared that if he were to call a cab, he would be denied, or even worse, followed. 

There was also the fact that he didn’t want to get there quite yet, he didn’t want to hear the words ‘we are over’ yet. He didn’t want to see the hate-filled eyes of Freddie, who would despise Brian forever. 

He scrunched up his nose, trying to hold in a sob and failing miserably. And to think he had felt like the king of the world only a few days prior. 

He looked up and realised that their house was only a few meters away. The lovely garden that surrounded it, the elegant roman archways that decorated the exterior, and the backdrop of the lush forest that surrounded the residence made Brian sick. Knowing that everything looked so perfect the day his life was destined to end. 

He walked up to their front yard, and felt like his legs were about to give up on him, he walked to their front steps and felt his breath leave him, he felt his hands hover over the doorbell and felt like he could throw up. 

In the end, he didn’t even have to ring, cause after a few seconds of waiting the door was yanked open by none other than Phoebe who took one look at the state Brian was in and pulled him into a warm hug. 

And that’s when Brian truly broke. He couldn’t contain his sobs, or the shivers that raked his body, or the torrent of tears streaming down his face. He couldn’t even bring himself to stand up, so he let his knees buckle beneath him, and brought down Phoebe with him. The other man was whispering sweet nothing into his ear, running his hands up and down his spine in an attempt at comfort. 

But there was nothing that Phoebe could do for Brian, nothing that would help him calm down. 

It’s only after several minutes that he finally calms down enough to be able to process the words that Phoebe is saying to him. He was asking him silly questions, things like what are you wearing? Or, what colour are Roger’s eyes? Words meant to take his mind off the whirlpool of thoughts that threatened to consume him. 

But Brian didn’t need distracting, “Is Freddie home?” 

Phoebe pursed his lips, letting an all-consuming silence take over the house, “He is in your room, hasn’t come out since—” 

He made the thought hang in the air, it wasn’t really necessary for him to finish it, after all, they all knew what he was referring too, “And John and Roger? Have they called yet?” 

Phoebe’s face said everything Brian needed to know, everything he feared apart from losing the love of his life. He didn’t want to lose his brothers as well, but as things were turning out, there was little Brian could do but brace for the sadness which was coming. 

“Alright, well,” Brian cleared his throat, “I guess I’ll go upstairs, try to fix what I broke.” 

Phoebe nodded, “I’ll have supper ready when you come down.” 

The treck from the front door towards the master bedroom was longer than Brian expected it to be. Maybe it was the fact that he dragged his feet all the way up, or perhaps it was that he simply didn’t want to open the door. However, once he got there, he gave himself no time to hesitate and turned the door handle. 

The room was completely dark. The dozen or so heaters they had in their place turned on, making it warm and cosy. There was a pile of blankets on the bed and the hundred or so pillows they had. It resembled a nest, sort of, and Brian didn’t want to disturb whatever Freddie had in favour of a long and hurtful conversation. 

The door to the bathroom opened, and out of it came Freddie. With his fluffiest bathrobe around himself, hair mussed and letting out pitiful whimpers and sniffles. And when he looked up, Brian had the urge to run over and wrap him in a hug, wipe his tears away, and kill everyone who caused his love to look like he did. 

Expect there was no one to blame but Brian himself. 

They stared into each other’s eyes for the longest of times before Freddie decided to speak, “You know, my mother called this morning.” 

There was a beat of silence in which Brian could feel his breath being sucked out of his lungs. 

“She told me to come back home,” he continued, “to go back to that small house in the suburbs of London to lay low for a while. Until the rumours passed over or our press manager controlled the situation. Or—or until you stopped harassing me.” 

Freddie took one step forward. 

“She thought you were forcing me to kiss you in that picture.” 

Brian sighed and let his head hang, “In some ways, I did force you.” 

“What are you talking about?” 

“I was so excited I forgot about the no kissing rule. I pushed you against that wall, I—” 

“Brian, shut up, will you?” 

“No,” Brian clenched his fists, “I won’t shut up because I messed up the best thing I have ever had in my life in a matter of seconds. I messed up what I had with you, I messed up Queen’s reputation, I messed up our friendship with Roger and John, so no I won’t shut up until you let me say I’m sorry. Until you let me properly apologise.” 

Freddie takes another step forward, “You didn’t.” 

“What?” 

“You didn’t fuck up everything,” Freddie’s voice was low, a little bit of an accent leaking into the words, “you didn’t fuck everything up because I have been waiting all day for you to come back home, come into this room, and help me deal with the shittiest day of my entire existence while cuddled up in bed.

“Brian May, if you think you could lose me over something like this, then you truly don’t know how much I love you.” 

Tears were prickling at the corners of Brian’s eyes, and his hands were trembling. 

“Now come over here and give me a hug before either of us fall apart. We’ll deal with the rest of the world in the morning.” 

“What about John and Roger?” 

“We’ll deal with them too.” 

He walked over to were Freddie was standing and hugged him tightly. Freddie then guided them to the bed, taking Brian’s shoes and pants off, then wrapping both of them in fluffy blankets. They fell asleep like that, wrapped around each other, and praying for tomorrow to never come. 

[stormtrprinstilettos]

Chameleon - Chapter 6

Summary: Reader (that’s you!) moves to London, hoping to leave her past behind and find happiness. She makes friends with her new neighbors. (Guess who?) - So far we’ve established that Reader & Freddie are BFF, Reader & Brian are absolutely into each other (but he has a GF that Reader just had a pretty big argument with last chapter) and Reader & Roger have a bit of sexual tension that may be turning out to be a bit more than just that. (If you’re new to the story – there really is no proper summary. I have no idea where this is going and am always taking suggestions as to where you’d like to see it go.) 18+ please!

Words: ~6.7K+ || AO3 | Ch 1, Ch 2, Ch 3(1)(2), Ch 4*, Ch 5 (* = smut)

[A/N: Want to thank everyone again for reading! I’m posting this one today and I’ll probably be posting the next one in a few days. I don’t like to sit on chapters for too long because I end up changing them constantly. This one is fluffy as hell, until stuff happens. (Next one, not so much. *wink wink*) Time warping ahead a few weeks from the last chapter. I know y’all want some Deaky in here - I’m going to be making him more prominent. Just need to work out how. Also, sorry for the formatting. #MobileAppProblems]

Tagging: @chocolatealmondmilkshake & @thisjustfantasy (let me know if you want to be tagged)

The place was a complete disaster area when you woke up the next morning after your argument with Jane. You stepped over empty bottles and other assorted trash to get to the kitchen to make some coffee. You had no idea what the guys got up to after Brian and Jane left and you locked yourself in your room, but clearly it involved a lot of drinking after they quit trying to talk to you. The three of them were passed out, John on the sofa, Freddie in the chair and Roger on the floor. The kitchen was a disaster too, but you didn’t even bother cleaning up. You didn’t care. You just wanted your coffee. And after that night and seeing the state of the flat, you wanted to run away, so that’s what you did, just for the day, of course.

You wandered around the National Gallery, getting lost in the endless collection of art. It was the first time since you arrived in London you had nothing on your mind. You had no worries, no stresses, no one else to worry about – nothing. The colors and intricacies of the paintings brought your mind to another plane, gifting you with serenity. That’s all you wanted, for however long you could have it. You stayed there for hours, completely losing track of time. That day you made a promise to yourself that you would take a day at least once a week to get lost, either figuratively or literally. A new kind of therapy – self-care instead of self-destruction was a lot better.

Brian didn’t realize that he was inadvertently pushing you closer to Roger. Whenever Jane would be around, Roger would come over. Sometimes the night – or day, depending on when she was there – would end with sex, but most of the time it wouldn’t. Things may have started out to be just about sex with the two of you, but it wasn’t like that anymore. He was your safe space now. You’d usually end up cuddled together, giving you a feeling of comfort, which he was always more than happy to provide. It didn’t matter if you were watching television, listening to an album, discussing a book or the weather or anything of unimportance – you’d more than likely end up cuddled together. You enjoyed his company, and he yours, and the connection the two of you had shared started to become stronger. Freddie even had to joke about how wrong he was before. “I always thought that one would be the one to fuck you up,” he told you one afternoon after Roger left the flat. “But apparently, he’s the one that’s good for you.” Perhaps he was right, but you weren’t planning on opening your heart to feeling again, at least not any time soon.

Wanting to do something different today, you decide to visit the planetarium to see the stars – well, the fake stars, but they’ll suffice to help you do one of your favorite things. The show was boring, really. You already knew the constellations, but you stayed anyway, choosing to tune out the sound and pretend you were laying under the real night sky. As soon as you get comfortable, someone starts talking to you.

“Do you see her?” a voice whispers in your ear, startling you until you realized who it was.

You don’t turn around. You don’t need to. You don’t want to, hoping that if you ignore him, he’ll go away. But he won’t. You can hear his breathing. “Yeah, I see her.” You point up to her – Andromeda.

“She looks like she’s had better days,” the voice whispers.

“Yeah,” you reply. “She’s a little dim.”

“It’s a shame, really. She deserves to shine bright.” Brian crawls over the seat next to you, knowing very well his presence is probably unwanted, but he knew you wouldn’t cause a scene in front of everyone who was around. “Hey there,” he greets you, a smile on his face, genuinely happy to see you.

“Are you stalking me, Mr. May?” you somewhat jokingly ask, while raising an eyebrow. You want to ignore him. You want to be mad. You want to never speak to him again, but one look at him changes all of that. You can’t stay mad at him no matter how much you want to.

“Shhhhh!” the woman in front of you fusses. “Go outside if you want to talk!” You and Brian look at each other, make mocking facial expressions behind the woman’s back, and giggle as you walk outside.

“What are you doing here?” you ask, trying to make him think you’re mad with the sound of your voice, but failing miserably.

“I could ask you the same,” he replies, searching your face for any sign of upset, but finding none. He’s nervous. He was fully prepared for you to lash out at him, was even expecting it, or he thought you’d walk away, run away – anything to get away from him.

You sigh, slide down the wall and lean back against it. “I needed to get away.” You close your eyes and take a deep breath, unsure if you should tell him that he’s the reason your brain has been so cloudy these last few weeks.

“Me too.” He takes a seat next to you, not sure if you want to talk, but he wants to set the record straight. “Look, about the other night…”

“Stop,” you cut him off. “It’s not a big deal.” You’re lying. It is a big deal. You trusted him, and you feel like he betrayed you.

“That’s not true.” He starts to chuckle, which irritates you because this isn’t exactly a funny matter. “You’re a terrible liar.”

“I’m not lying,” you try to convince him, and yourself. “It’s really not that big of a deal.” No matter how hard you tried to convince yourself, you didn’t believe it. Neither did he.

“Then why are you doing that thing where you play with your fingernail when you’re not telling the truth?” He smirked and points down to your hand, bringing it to your attention that you’re running your thumbnail between two of your fingers, something you never noticed you did before – but he clearly did.

You raise an eyebrow and stop fidgeting but let the comment you want to make about him paying that much attention to you pass. “It’s no big deal.”

“You’re doing it again. The fingernail thing.” He keeps smirking.

“Jane will have me guillotined if she finds out I’m talking to you right now.” You missed him. You really missed him and sitting here with him at this very moment felt so comfortable, but so wrong.

He starts to look around. “Jane isn’t here. And I’m not going to tell her.” He leans over and pretends to be suspicious with a whisper. “Are you?” You don’t answer, opting instead to give him a look, begging for him to drop it, but he can’t. “I hate this. I want it to go back to how it was before…” His voice trails off.

“It never had to be this way, Brian. But it is.” You start to stand up and walk away, but he pulls you back down.

“Talk to me, please.” You can see in his eyes that he’s sorry for whatever wrong he’s done and that he genuinely doesn’t know what he’s done to make you upset. It’s tearing him up inside.

You can’t let it go anymore. You’re upset, he’s upset and the only way to fix this is to talk to him. “You told Jane about my past, Brian. Really? Things I’ve told you about all of that was in confidence. I’ve told you things I never even told Freddie. If I wanted people to know about the bullshit I’ve done or been through I’d tell them myself.”

“I did not!” His voice is pleading for your forgiveness. “I told her you had it rough, and that you needed to get away from there for your own sake. I never gave her details. She wanted to know how you ended up here and that’s all I’ve ever told her.”

You want to believe him, and part of you does, but you can’t forget what she said. You can’t forget that she told you Brian said you were “a mess,” as she put it. That’s the part of the entire exchange that stood out to you. “She said you told her that I…”

He interrupts, quickly. “I never said a single negative thing about you to her or to anyone for that matter.” He grabs your hand and looks into your eyes, his tone lowering. “I don’t even know anything negative about you.”

No, you told yourself, don’t get locked in his gaze. “Just let me know when she’s going to be around so I don’t have to be there, okay?” You pull your hand away, stand up and grab your things. “I’m going home.”

“No, don’t.” He jumps up and stands in front of you, blocking your path. “The weather is nice for a change. Let’s go enjoy it.” He grabs your upper arms, trying to get you to look at him.

“Brian…” You sigh and throw your head back, trying to come across as annoyed, hoping that would get him to leave you alone.

“Come on,” he pleads. “Will you at least walk home with me?” You look at him, completely defeated in this battle, smile a half smile and start walking home.

Everything seemed to be back to normal between the two of you. You made small talk, chatted about random things, had some laughs – just like you always would. Instead of taking the sidewalks, you guided him through a small park area for a change of scenery. The sun was at a perfect angle to give a beautiful, scenic view that you insisted on stopping to sketch out. He sat in amazement, watching you intently take it all in, finding it fascinating how you put every little detail on the paper, taking great care not to miss a single thing. You didn’t realize how close he was sitting to you until he sneezed, causing you to fall out of the zone you were in.

“Bless you,” you giggle. He starts to put his hand to the back of his neck and you hurry and move it down. “Stop that, silly.”

“Sorry. I distracted you.”

“You’re sitting pretty close. Maybe you’re allergic to me.”

“Impossible. You’re the only remedy to my ailment…” His voice went lower as he finished the last word, staring deep into your eyes, wanting so bad to take you into his arms, kiss you, and forget about the world.

You feel yourself getting sucked back in, so you hurry and clear your throat, breaking the trance and turning back to your sketchbook. “I’m almost done, then we can go.” You both pretend that nothing had just happened and stay quiet, him continuing to watch you.

“What are you doing tonight? Anything planned?” he asks, breaking the silence.

“Nope. Nothing going on.” You answer him, but your eyes don’t move from your book.

He adjusts his position, feeling a little bit anxious. “Come with me down to Headley,” he blurts out.

You start laughing. “Why in the world are you going there?” You had been there before and there was no reason you ever wanted to go back. “That is possibly the most boring place on the entire planet.”

“It’s a surprise.” You look over at him and he’s smiling mischievously.

You give a slight grin and look back to your drawing. “I never said I was going,” you tease.

“Come…” he pleads.

You give him a side-eyed glare. “I’m not really keen on being a third-wheel, Brian.”

“You won’t be. Jane isn’t coming. She’s visiting her mum for the week,” he shrugs. He can see in your eyes that you’re considering it. “It’ll be our secret. Come on.”

You give in. You can’t resist him, no matter how hard you try. “This better be a good surprise.”

⊱ ────── {.⋅ ✯ ⋅.} ────── ⊰ The car ride was about an hour. It didn't seem that long, not that you cared. You and Brian shared stories, cracked jokes, sang whatever was on the radio – pretty badly, on your part – enjoying every single second. It had been far too long since the two of you hung out together, and you missed it. Brian soon pulled over on the side of the road. There was nothing around but empty fields and the powerful light of the full moon.

“Well, here we are." He flashes you excited smile before rushing out of the car and opening the trunk.

You walk around to see what was going on, unsure of what was going on and why he was so excited about being in the middle of nowhere. "Do you need help?"

He hands you a couple of blankets with a huge smile on his face. "Carry these. I'll get the rest..." he pulls out his telescope. "Come on!” He tilts his head to the side, beckoning you to follow him, which you do somewhat hesitantly.

When you stop walking, you lay out the blankets, take a seat and start watching Brian fiddle around with the telescope. "Ah, there you are," you hear him eventually say, and you start giggling. He realizes he said that out loud and pulled his eye away from the telescope with a shy grin. "Well, come see." He motioned his hands and you crawl over. "Here - look through there." He put his hand on the small of your back as you bend over to look through the telescope.

"Oh my god, Brian, that's... Wow!" It was very small, but there it was. Saturn. "Look at that..." He remembered you telling him you had never seen it.

He moves over to the blanket and lays on his side, propped up on his arm. He watches you as you look through the lens and he can’t help but wonder if you are feeling the exact awe that he was feeling as he looked at you. When you looked up and saw him staring at you, you felt fluttering in your stomach. "Amazing, isn't it?" he asks as you looked back through the lens.

"I can't believe I'm seeing this. Thank you so much for showing me.” After looking for another minute or so, you crawl back on the blanket before laying down to gaze up to the sky. "First you show me Saturn and now I get to do one of my favorite things. You sure do know how to woo a girl,” you teased.

"Only when she deserves it." He lays down next to you, his arm touching yours. “Good thing we came when we did. It’s getting cloudy.” He kept making subtle moves so he could get closer to you, or touch you – anything to try to get your attention off of the sky and on to him, but you were resisting.

You laid there in silence for a long time, neither one of you sure what to talk about, or if you should talk at all. You couldn’t handle the quiet another second longer. “Are you happy with Jane?” you spit out. You don’t know why you asked him. It wasn’t your place to ask him.

He took a deep breath before answering. “Honestly? She’s… comfortable. Does that make sense?” You gave him a questioning look. “She’s not forever, though,” he quickly popped back. “I know she’s not.”

You thought about telling him about how incredibly stupid that reasoning was, in your opinion at least, but decided not to. You didn’t want to cause another argument. Instead, you offered apologies. “I’m sorry if my mouth caused you problems.”

“Absolutely not,” he told you. “You have nothing to apologize for. She shouldn’t have…” He took another deep breath, unsure if he should have offered up more information. “She’s intimidated by you.”

“Does she have any reason to be?” It was an innocent enough question, you thought, and, if anything, it would help you better understand where his mind was.

He chuffed. “It’s Friday night and I’m laying here with you and there’s nowhere else I’d rather be and no one else I’d rather be with. You tell me.”

You forget about the stars you were just looking at. You forget about Saturn. You forget about everything. You probably couldn’t even remember your name at this point. The way he was looking at you – he never looked at you like this before. You prop yourself up on your elbows, never taking your eyes off his that are looking at you with such an intensity that it makes your insides burn. You want to pounce, and you can tell he does too. No one is around, you think to yourself. No one would know except for us. … and it starts to rain. Fucking typical. You and Brian start to laugh. “Wow, this is almost as good as our first date when you made me work.”

“I tried to make our second date better. I’m sorry.” He’s a bit annoyed, but he can’t help but find the humor in the whole situation.

“No need to apologize,” you tell him. This one is pretty great.”

“Yeah, but what color?” he asks you, still finding your choices both intriguing and humorous.

“Hmm,” you thought for a moment. “Right now? Silver.”

⊱ ────── {.⋅ ✯ ⋅.} ────── ⊰

Out of the blue on the way back home, during an odd moment of quiet, he started talking about Jane. “It’s true. Everything you told her. She is a bitch and I can’t stand to be around her sometimes. She’s not always bad, Y/N, but she has her moments.”

“No. She’s always bad,” you sneer. “You can defend her all you want, but she’s the worst kind of person. All nice and sweet but really a raging bitch. That’s what Jane is.” He didn’t like what you were saying, but he understood why you feel the way you do. “I’m sorry, but she is. She’s horrible.”

He grabs the back of his neck with his hand. He’s embarrassed. Again. And his words start to stumble. “As I said, everything you told her was true.” He looks at you, hoping you understand what he’s trying to say, but you don’t. “Your name. I said your name one time.” He looks over at you, shame all over his face, hoping you understand what he’s saying so he doesn’t have to say more before hurrying to look away. You’re stunned. You said his name, too, that first night with Roger. Part of you wanted to tell him, but you didn’t dare. “That’s why she got so upset with you. She tried to keep it in, but she couldn’t help it. And when you told her what you did, about me saying your name, she thought I had told you about that.” You look at him and see the agony in his face, only you don’t know what he’s exactly agonizing about. You try to speak, but he won’t let you. “No! No talking. I probably shouldn’t have told you.” He sighed. “I’m just not happy with her right now.”

“Then why are you with her?” You want an actual answer, but he’s not giving you one. He’s not saying anything at all. “Right, because she’s comfortable.” You quickly decide to cut the seriousness of the conversation, not wanting to become frustrated and ruin the last few minutes of the ride, so you opt to start picking on him. “You’re afraid of change, aren’t you?”

He shrugs. “I like to have everything in order.”

“You will stay in a relationship just because if you don’t it would change things up a little?”

He rolls his eyes, feeling a bit embarrassed by the topic. “You make me sound so boring.”

“Come on, Brian. Break the monotony,” you try to encourage him, half teasing, half serious. “Do something spontaneous,” you crack.

He decided to start picking back at you. “What, like move to another country?”

“No don’t do that. That’s stupid.” You give him a sarcastic grin.

“Am I really that boring?” His question is genuine.

“You are not boring.” You can tell by the look on his face that he doesn’t believe you. “You’re not! Have you ever had a conversation with yourself? You’re not boring at all.”

He still doesn’t believe you, and he’s obviously in need of some encouragement. “But I act boring. I don’t do… spontaneous things.”

“We went to Headley.”

“That wasn’t spontaneous. That was planned.”

You have to laugh at his meticulousness. “Do you really plan everything?”

You can tell by the look on his face that he’s almost ashamed to answer that and starts to try to hold back a smile. “See? Boring.”

“I wish I had that kind of stability,” you sigh as you lean your head back on the seat.

“From the stories you’ve told me, you’ve had an exciting life so far. For you, stability would be… boring,” he smirks.

“Oh please, Brian, half of the shit I did was so stupid, not exciting. Do you really think it was smart for a 16-year-old girl to leave home with a 25-year-old who took her to San Francisco?” You look at each other for a second before the laughter catches up to you. “See? I need stability.”

“And maybe I need spontaneity.”

He starts to turn the car down the street to go home. “No!” you yell, startling him, which causes you to giggle. “Don’t go home yet.”

He stopped the car in the middle of the street, looking at you with an almost panic-stricken face. “Where am I supposed to go?”

“I don’t know. Be spontaneous!” He can see that you’re serious, but he has absolutely no idea where you want him to go. “Our clothes are dry. Our hair may be a mess but who cares. Be… spontaneous.” You give him an encouraging smile, so he doesn’t continue to the route back to the flat.

You spend the next couple of hours driving around, stopping at random places, grabbing a quick bite to eat, even ducking in to a club to listen to a band play. Everything was going great until he started running into people he knew. “This is my friend, Y/N,” he would introduce you as, which was fine – that’s all you were – until he saw Jane’s roommate. That’s when he introduced you as his “neighbor” who just so happened to be at the same place he was, and you didn’t appreciate that one bit. You understood why, but inside you were getting emotional, wishing that the two of you didn’t have to hide the fact that you were enjoying this night together from anyone.

“Well, it’s nice to meet you,” you tell the roommate, “but I must be going home now.” You stand and glare at Brian. “Guess I’ll see you around, neighbor,” you told him with a sigh of irritation. You walk out the door and Brian runs after you.

“Y/N! Wait!” he calls out before you stop and turn around waiting for him to catch up. “Where are you going?”

Your brows furrow, wondering why he doesn’t understand what just happened. “I’m going home.” You turned to walk away but he grabbed your arm and pulled you back. “Brian, if you can’t be honest about who I am…”

“I said you’re my friend. What’s dishonest about that?”

“Your neighbor. I’m just your neighbor. After everything, I’m your neighbor who you happened to run into.” You don’t know why it stung when you heard him introduce you like that, but it did, and as you thought about it again, the stinging came back. “If you must hide me, your friend, then maybe…”

“Don’t say it. Do not.” The worry started to grow on his face. “I’m sorry, I just don’t want to cause problems with…”

“With Jane, yeah, I get it,” you whispered as your eyes started to well up. “You’re not the first person who’s afraid to be seen with me.”

He grabs you into a hug, trying to console you, but you don’t hug him back. “I’m not afraid to be seen with you, Y/N.”

You push yourself away and speak through tears. “If you weren’t, then I wouldn’t just be your neighbor.” You wipe your eyes, clear your throat and look back at Brian. “I’ll see you around, Bri.” You flash a small smile and go home.

⊱ ────── {.⋅ ✯ ⋅.} ────── ⊰ “Where the hell have you been?” Freddie yells at you when you walk in the door about an hour later, opting to take the long way back home. “I was worried about you!” He ran to you, grabbing you in his arms and picking you up as he hugged you like he hasn’t seen you in years.

“He was about to gather a search team to go look for you,” Roger joked from the sofa.

“I was with Brian,” you told them. Freddie looked relieved, but Roger’s smile fell off his face into a slightly heartbroken expression. “I ran into him at the planetarium earlier today.” You walk to the kitchen and they both follow you. “I thought it was time to end the tension,” you started to explain as you began to make a pot of coffee. “I think everything will be okay now. I’m sorry if any of the crap between Brian and I bothered you.” Your attention fell to Roger who was standing across the room, unsure how to register the look he’s giving you.

Freddie dramatically clears his throat to get your attention, so you turn to face him now that he’s standing next to you. “Well now that you’re home, I’m going to bed.” He grabs your face and gets close. “Don’t do that to me again.” He kisses your nose and goes off to his room. “No funny business in there, you two,” he yells out as he walks away. “And please, keep it down tonight. I’m exhausted!”

You roll your eyes and grin as you turn back look at Roger who still has the same look on his face. You walk over to him and tug on his jacket. “What’s wrong?” you quietly ask, searching his face for any sort of hint as to why he looks so upset.

He rests his arms on your shoulders, his expression not changing. “Nothing,” he whispered. “Did you have a good time?” He tried to sound interested, but you can tell that he’s a tiny bit jealous.

You wrap your arms around his waist and pull yourself into a hug, which he reciprocates, and rest your head on his chest. “I took a ride with him down to Headley to see Saturn. I thought it would give us a chance to talk through everything.” You don’t want to let him go, and you don’t want him to let you go. This hug is exactly what you needed and from exactly who you needed to give it to you. Your body relaxed, releasing a tension you didn’t even know you had. He felt it, and he pulled you in tighter.

“Did you get to see it?” he asked, quietly, feeling his jealousy leave.

“Yeah, I did,” you tell him as you lift your head to rest your chin on his chest so you could look up at him. “It was pretty neat.” You smiled, and he smiled back at you. “And I think things with Brian and I will be better. Not perfect, and not where they were, but better.”

“You’re beautiful,” he whispered as his smile grew bigger, his ocean blue eyes sparkling as they study every intricate detail of yours. He pushes your hair behind your ears. “I can’t figure you out,” he says quietly before he leans down and gives you a soft, gentle, sweet kiss, unlike any other kiss he’s ever given you while he runs a strand of your hair between his fingers.

“I’m not that complicated, Rog,” you giggle.

“No, you’re not. That’s what I’m trying to figure out.” He leans down and gives you another gentle kiss. “You put it all out there. You never hid who you are, and I’ve never felt like I had to hide who I am with you.” He holds his palm to your cheek. “You make it all so easy.” His smile has never left his face.

“That’s because it is easy, at least when I’m with you,” you whisper, recognizing that the two of you may be feeling a little bit more than just friends. He leans down to kiss you again, but the two of you are interrupted by someone clearing his throat.

“Oh, hey Bri,” Roger greets him. “Heard you two had a fun night.” The two of you separated from each other and tried to act like nothing was going on before you were interrupted. Freddie must have let him in before he went to bed.

Keeping his glaring eyes on you, Brian replies to him, “Yeah. We did. Just wanted to make sure she got home okay.” The look on his face was a mixture of dejection and anger and you can tell by his slurring he’s drunk.

“Coffee’s almost done. Would you like some?” you ask him, trying to break the awkwardness that’s permeating through the air. Brian’s face is turning angrier and you’re starting to get concerned. “Brian? What’s wrong?”

He starts to laugh, confusing you and Roger. “Nothing’s wrong, Y/N,” he says through his laughter. “It’s just amazing how you can go from crying with me earlier to this.” His laughter continues and you’re starting to feel the anger build up inside of you. “How do you do it, Y/N? How do you move on so easily?” He lowers his voice to almost a whisper as his eyes start to glare at you again and his laughter stops. “Must be something you’ve learned with all of those others you… you know. All the guys you’ve had.”

“It’s always easy to forget the assholes,” you say through gritted teeth, not sure if you’re furious or seriously hurt by what he’s saying. He starts to laugh again, harder than before and Roger is moving closer to him, getting inches away before you stop him from getting closer. “Go home, Brian. You’re drunk and don’t mean anything you’re saying.”

“You want me to go home so you can fuck him again,” Brian slurs out as he points to Roger. “You know Rog, the only reason you get to fuck her is because I didn’t…”

“That’s it,” Roger interrupts. “Let’s go home.” He grabs Brian’s arm, but can’t stop Brian’s mouth from moving.

“Did Y/N ever tell you about that threesome she had?” Brian asked Roger. “Maybe you can get her to do that again for you.” His laughter is uncontrollable at this point and you’re trying not to take any of this to heart, but you can’t help it. Your eyes start to tear up for the second time tonight because of Brian’s mouth. “What, you didn’t tell him?” Brian asks you. “And why are you crying again? I hate when you cry.” He tries to touch you consolingly, but you knock his hand away.

“Get him away from me. Please,” you calmly say as you walk out. You hear the front door close as you walk into your bedroom. There’s a million and one thoughts swimming in your head and you know it’s going to be a long, long night if you’re left alone with them. You know he’s tired, but you know there’s no way he’s sleeping yet, so you tap on Freddie’s door.

“Come on,” he mumbled from behind the closed door. “I was waiting for you.” When you opened the door, he was sitting on his bed, patting next to him for you to come sit next to him. “Aww,” he says with a chuckle as he sits next to you and wraps his arm around you. “Tell me all about it.”

You take a deep breath and sigh. “Brian. It’s always Brian,” you say as you look at Freddie with an annoyed glare. “We had a great day together. We went to the park. Then we went to Headley – he brought his telescope. We looked at the stars, we went get a bite to eat, heard some music. Everything was perfect. We were getting along so good and then we ran into Jane’s roommate.” You grunt and lay down, putting your head on his lap as he starts to play with your hair. “Then he comes here, drunk, sees me with Roger, and starts being a complete dick.”

“You need to do is stop letting men control you.” Your head pops up and you give him a look of befuddlement. “Come on, what do you think Brian is doing? He’s not doing it on purpose. He doesn’t even know he’s doing it. He’s so confused about his own feelings and he wants you to stick around while he figures them out and he found a way to keep you hanging on.” You lay your head back down on his lap. “Judging by stories you told me about your ex, you let him control you too. And your dad – he controlled you so much he got you thinking you deserved nothing good out of life.”

“You’re right,” you confessed.

“Of course I’m fucking right,” he said with mock astonishment. You both chuckled before he continued. “You can’t hide shit from me.”

“Since you know so much, how do I get him to stop controlling me?”

“Well, you need to stop being confused about your feelings. Once you accept them for what they really are then it’ll be impossible for him to control you.”

“Easier said than done…”

“Everything is, but if you pay attention, you already know exactly where you want to be, and it’s with blondie over there.” You pop up and look at Freddie with a raised eyebrow, which makes him start laughing. “Don’t even deny it.” He shoves you and you chuckle and playfully shove him back. “I’m just an outside observer here, but…” You start to talk but he covers your mouth with his hand. “I know what I see! You have that boy wrapped around your cute little finger, Princess, which is shocking because I’ve never seen him act this way with anyone else. And whether you want to admit it or not, he’s got you wrapped around his.”

You give Freddie a blank, unamused stare. “Two months ago, you just knew I was madly in love with Brian because of how we supposedly looked at each other, and now I’ve tamed the elusive lion you kept telling me was bad news and have him in a puddle at my feet.”

“Oh, darling, your feelings for Brian are clearly fleeting,” Freddie laughs as you continue to give him the unamused look. “Let him go, Y/N. You both need to let each other go. He’s not going to do it until you let him go.” You realize Freddie is right, at least about Brian. “If he really wanted you, he’d be with you and not that wretched beast.”

You lay your head on Freddie’s shoulder and he lays his on top of yours. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

“You’d fall apart.”

“I’d have lost my mind a long time ago and probably would probably be somewhere else.”

“Ooh does this make me your guru?”

“Goodnight, Freddie,” you giggle. You kiss him on the cheek and walk out. “Love you.”

“Love you, Princess.”

⊱ ────── {.⋅ ✯ ⋅.} ────── ⊰ The next morning you decide to take your sketchbook and have your coffee outside in the garden. The weather was nice again, the sun peeking through the trees, and you even heard some birds chirping. You were enjoying the peaceful atmosphere and became irritated when you heard footsteps approaching. You look up from your book and slam it shut. “Don’t talk to me right now, Brian.” He’s standing in front of you, looking like crap, probably because he was feeling a little hungover. He was the absolute last person you wanted to see right now.

He pulled out a chair from the small café table you were sitting at and invited himself to join you. Your jaw clinched, and you frowned, hoping he would get the hint and leave, but he didn’t. “I’m sorry about last night,” he said with sorrow in his voice, the same tone he would always give you when he was apologizing for being a complete jerk.

You snap. How dare he think this is going to make everything okay, you growled to yourself. “You’re always sorry. I’m tired of ‘I’m sorry.’ Please, go be happy with Jane and just…”

“Y/N…” He tries to interrupt you, but you turn it back around on him.

“No, Brian,” you grunt with force before turning your tone calmer, but still upset. “You know, last night, when you stood in my kitchen and basically called me a tramp, I think that told me exactly how you feel.”

“I didn’t mean any of that. I was drunk.” His words were falling over themselves and his face turned apologetic, and afraid of what you were going to tell him next.

“Alcohol tends to make the truth come out,” you inform him as you stand up from the table to get away from him. “So it’s clear to me you see me as some promiscuous bimbo, and that’s okay. I was at one time. But not anymore. Other people can let it go but you can’t.”

“You’re not a bimbo. At least you’re keeping it to just one guy now.”

“See? No matter how hard you try, that’s what you think about me!” You are absolutely furious. “I came here so I wouldn’t be judged anymore, and so people would stop looking at me like I was some kind of waste, and that’s what you do, every single time you look at me.” You are trying your hardest to hide the heartache. You don’t want him to know how much he’s hurting you. You want him to think you’re angry, which you are, but you think showing any kind of sensitivity right now is showing weakness.

“I’m not judging you, Y/N. I just…”

“You can’t help it. I get it.” He tries to say something, but you cut him off before the words can even vocalize. “Stop trying to make it better. Every time you try you just make it worse.” You turn and walk away, but you aren’t finished lashing out, so you turn back around and walk to where he’s seated. “Freddie never judged me. Neither has Roger. You… I didn’t expect you to.” Your eyes start to water, and it pisses you off because he’s the only one who has made you cry since you’ve been here and he’s the last person you ever thought would. “Of everyone, I didn’t expect it from you. Not the way you listened to me and seemed to understand everything I’ve ever told you about the shit I’ve been through.”

You turn and walk away, but he yells out to you. “You’re making a mistake!” His voice has a hint of concern, and you consider ignoring him, but your curiosity gets the best of you.

You roll your eyes, wipe your tears, and turn back around. “A mistake with what?”

“Roger…” he begins. “I know him. I know how he is!”

You walk up to Brian, who is still sitting down, and get in his face. “He’s never done anything or said anything to me to make me feel like a piece of shit, unlike someone else,” you seethe.

“You don’t think he’s just using you for what he wants?” He seethes at you in return.

“No, I don’t think that at all.” You calm your tone. “What I do think is that you don’t want me to be with him – or anyone else.” You start to walk away again.

“I want you to be happy, Y/N,” Brian mumbles, just loud enough for you to hear it, which makes you turn back around one more time.

“So then let me be happy. Please,” you plead with him. His eyes look down to the ground, and an expression of loss draws upon his face. Tears start to fall down your cheeks, a mixture of sadness and exasperation. “Goodbye, Brian,” you tell him as you walk away.

[sammyspreadyourwings]

Deacury, CEO!au, strangers to lovers, “It’s just so hard not to fall in love with you.”

CEO Strangers to Lovers

With a startling reminder, I realize I have to update my masterlist. Anyway, this has a weird style, but I do hope you enjoy and I apologize for the wait!!

Crica Modern Era

It starts with a CEO. Most trashy romances do, a CEO out of touch with the world and finds a low-to-middle class person to show them that slowing down is worth it. That the business will still grind on despite them not spending every second managing it. John thinks it might be an interesting spin on his autobiography if he had both the skill to write and the want to disclose his entire life to the world.

Although to be fair, he’s missing the role of being the quirky intern fresh out of college. He’s just the IT guy, who got the unlucky call to fix something. Also, to his great misfortune, he’s not alone while fixing the computer.

Freddie Mercury, CEO, and founder of the Mercury brand clothing line is having a private meeting with two chairs, Brian May and Roger Taylor as he later learns. John tries to be as inconspicuous as possible, but he fails miserably ten minutes in when the entire hard drive crashes.

Apparently, that was endearing because he gets a call five minutes before his shift ends to go back to the office. This time they’re alone, which gives John time to really observe Freddie Mercury. He’s dressed in an extravagantly casual way and holds himself with the slight hunch of shyness. John finds him to be one of the most beautiful men he’s ever met, visually at least.

He looks away when nothing is said for a time because getting fantasies about your boss’s boss is arguably the worse thing for job security.

“Tell me, are you single?”

Well. That’s worth a call to HR if John didn’t have a little part of him that’s excited about the question and another part of him that’s curious about the reasoning.

“Yes.”

Mr. Mercury nods and leans back in his chair. John bites the inside of his cheek because he thinks he knows where this is going and he begins planning his graceful escape.

“And your name is?”

“John Deacon.” He has the urge to also blurt out his birthdate, but that would be too weird for this situation.

“John…” Mr. Mercury says the name like he’s tasting fine wine.

Hell, he probably knows what fine wine tastes like.

“Would you like to get dinner with me?”

John blinks, “now?”

“Or at anytime, if you already have plans tonight.”

It’s too casual to be anything but a proposition. This is such a bad idea he can’t even begin to count the ways this could go wrong. But like every plucky intern too nervous to say no to their boss, he nods.

“Yeah, I’m free now, or in the future.”

It works out pretty much like John figured it would. A clandestine relationship of the most casual order. The sex is fantastic, but Freddie made it explicitly clear that to ask for any more would be to ask for it to end. John hasn’t figured out if it’s because Freddie is free with his love or if he has some buried commitment issues. In between their dates and sex, which ruin John’s inability to get attached, he’s somehow gained friends in Roger and Brian.

John figures there are about four or so months before he needs to bail for the sake of his own heart. He’s told Brian as much.

“I wish he sees what he has in you,” Brian says.

Roger seeks him out not long after that, and not for the first time he wonders if Brian and Roger are the same person in two bodies. It seems like what one knows the other knows instantly.

“Talking sense into Freddie is like trying to stop a cat from knocking things over,” Roger sits on his desk working out a complicated stitch pattern, “he’ll have to lose you to figure it out, but I imagine it’ll be too late by that time.”

That’s where the story deviates from this classic romance tale. Usually, the friends would be encouraging him to wait it out because he’ll realize in his own time. Roger and Brian seem to encourage him doing whatever is best for him. He figures that in the end they’ll side with Freddie, but they do care about him.

It's starting to get too painful to watch Freddie leave after sex or for him to be ushered out a backway when they have a minute during the day. John thinks about it a lot, to the point that he feels like the break up has already happened. All he needs now is a thunderstorm and a bridge and enough energy to be angry about this entire thing.

He never understood being in different places in the relationship, but now he does get it.

So, it ends how he started it. In the office alone with Freddie in a chair in front of him asking for dinner and a night of his life. He’s got a speech prepared, notecards in his desk he’s been practicing all day.

“Where do you want to go for dinner tonight?”

“I don’t want dinner,” he says.

He can’t do this when Freddie looks carefree and happy. John couldn’t handle it if he watched the smile slip from his face.

“Oh, you naughty minx, you want to get to the main event?”

“No.”

There’s the change in the air he was looking for. He imagines the words might be the room is filled with bated breath. It doesn’t feel like apprehension, but an inevitability.

“I can’t do this anymore, as it is,” John sighs, “this whole casual sex thing? It’s great, but it’s just so hard not to fall in love with you, and I need to end this before I get hurt.”

Freddie nods and sits back down. His chin rests on his hands and he’s staring at John with an awed injury in them. It aches that he can’t comfort Freddie, but he’ll stay and give Freddie a chance for a response.

“I haven’t had a serious relationship in years.”

John knows that the last two ended in tragedy.

“Give me some time to consider making this something… less casual? If you’re willing.”

It's more than he was expecting, and he knows that this is going to come crashing down around him. Things always do in the climax of the story.

“Two days, that’s all I’m going to wait. Don’t talk to me until then.”

The weekend. He can mope in his apartment and prepare himself for the answer on Monday. Brian and Roger must hear about it because they send him twin messages of support.

You’re something John, to even get him to consider anything again after Jim’s well, you know. – Roger.

Thank you for giving him time, and good for you knowing what you want. Bri

John wonders when Brian will stop pining or when Roger will finally settle down. He’s glad they aren’t mad at him for breaking their best friend’s heart, or at the very least upsetting him. He can’t imagine someone as passionate as Freddie keeping his love off his sleeves.

They do get their rainstorm scene after all. It’s half past midnight, but someone has been banging on his door for the past twenty minutes. John, not expecting anyone, figured the person would soon realize that they aren’t at the correct house. Now it wonders if its something important. He swings open the door, wrinkled band shirt and green plaid pajama bottoms, prepared to yell at this person.

Soaking wet Freddie Mercury isn’t what he expected at all. Apparently, he ordered Heartbreak on Amazon’s two-day shipping. He winces but stands firm.

“Yes?”

“I thought about it.”

“And you couldn’t wait until tomorrow morning?”

“I could barely wait until now, but you said not to talk to you for two days.”

At least his wishes were respected, but he can’t imagine that Freddie would be that eager to end things.

“Okay, what do you want to say?”

Freddie leans forward but then straightens up. His hands are in his pockets and John belatedly realized that he is practically soaked through. Thunder rings through the house as if to answer his question.

“I do want a relationship with you John, not just a sexual one,” Freddie rushes out, “I want to be able to walk through the park holding hands and to take you to work functions and introduce you as my partner. I want all of that.”

John nods, even though his heart is soaring. He’s still wary of a bleeding wound. This is still just as bad of an idea as it was that night they started this, “we can do that, but if you go back on it we’re done. If we fight and break up, we’re done.”

“Trust me, John, it’s just so hard not to fall in love with you.”

They kiss passionately and heatedly and John can’t help but imagine the screen fading to black before the credits roll with a song like Can’t Help But Falling in Love filling the theater.

[b0blegum]

THE HOUSE // LET’S PLAY

Author: b0blegum

Pairing: Monsta X x Reader

Rating: G

Genre: Romance, Drama, Mystery

Status: On Going

Part: ONE | TWO | THREE | FOUR

Yoo Kihyun

A sound of feet dragged heavily echoed in the hallway. Sometimes the shoes made screeching noises when it touched the worn out floor.

After tired dragging his own feet and holding two grocery bags, he entered his password on the front door’s lock.

He grunted. Stretched his neck before stepping into his own property.

“Why did i get tired easily these da—“ He dropped his car key next to the fruit basket while his eyes found something conspicuous.

His first instinct was to look around, observing his own house, hoping to find some opened windows, but failed miserably, because his house was in the same condition as he left this morning. Even the TV remote didn’t moved an inch.

“What is this…” he muttered as he took the thing from the table.

It was an envelope. A perfectly cleaned white envelope, stamped precisely with a red sealing wax.

“Oh, wax stamp? Did Hedwig mistook my house as Harry’s home or what?” Scoffing, he began to open the envelope. It didn’t look intimidating at all, it’s just weird that something he didn’t have, could be in his house when every doors and windows are locked tightly. Son Hyunwoo

Rain was pouring mercilessly when he walked into a grand building with red carpet spreads above a same colour canopy. He nodded to the doorman after he opened the door for this young man who dressed neatly.

A table has been reserved under his name. It was a small rounded table enough to fit just two people in one seating. Well, he doesn’t need more than two, though. This is a casual meeting he’s about to do, not a random hey-you’re-free-today?-let’s-grab-dinner-together.

“Welcome back, Mr. Son. Would you like the usual to be served today? Or would you like to try our new menu?” Asked Brian, the korean-american headwaiter who always served Hyunwoo since the first time he came here.

“You have new menu?” He asked as Brian spread the napkin over Hyunwoo’s lap.

“Yes. It is called Lobster Frittata.” Brian answered. “You must’ve been eating a lot of Lobster before, am i right? What makes it special is because we served it with caviar.” He continued proudly.

“Caviar and a lobster?” Hyunwoo squinted his eye. “You sure that’ll taste good?”

“Oh, you know the quality of our chef. You don’t have to worry about the taste.” “Well, then. I’d like to try that.” Hyunwoo smiled. “But served it at the same time with my guest’s orders.” Brian nodded, got what he meant and then left back to the kitchen to tell them what to make.

Hyunwoo looked over the window, trying to find the car who’s going to drop off his guest. After awhile looking out, his eyes are back to the table just to find something that doesn’t belong on the table.

He blinked. Still looking at an envelope with his name written on the front with a fancy capital letters.

It was not there when he came, so someone must’ve dropped this when he looked out the window.

Carefully he flipped the envelope and began to unsealed it.

Shin Wonho

8.00 pm

Loudly, an alarm echoed in the quiet kitchen Wonho has been working at. Currently he is trying to find another astonishing dish by combining Foie Gras and Truffles.

He clicked the button to silent the alarm clock and stood there looking at his new creation.

“Nah. This can’t do.” He shook his head, spinning the plate with a beautiful presentation of the dish on it.

Spun around, he took off his apron and left it on the table before getting ready to go home.

There is no one in the kitchen, sure, because this is his own. No one is allowed to be in here unless he gave them permissions to do so, but that was just rare. He doesn’t like someone enter his kitchen, a sacred place where he and he only works, finding new formulas or new dishes for his restaurant.

He fixed his rolled up sleeves and ran his fingers through his hair.

“I need some inspirati—“ his eyes fixed on a cabinet near the stove. Walked forward, his eyes squinted. “What is this?” He flipped the small thing that has his name written on it and looked around the kitchen to found no one who’d probably left this letter for him in purpose.

“Is someone here?” He shouted. His soft voice echoed. He waited for a bit just to heard no replies. “Uh…” The letter is unsealed in a second with him flicking the wax stamp.

A soft silky paper was soon seen in it. Folded in twice neatly. He could sense there’s a bit of flowery scent on it.

“An invitation?”

Lee Jooheon & Lee Minhyuk

The quiet hallway was now filled with a man’s humming. His fingers moved along to his hum, like he was playing an imaginary piano. His eyes closed when he met a high pitched part of the song and his head tilted back.

Click

The door opened as soon as he tapped the card— still while humming.

“I’m home!” He shouted before kicking the door close lightly.

“Yah! Look at this!” A skinnier man approached him from his bedroom. He had two envelopes in his hand and he handed one to him.

“What’s this?” He flipped the envelope. “Lee Jooheon? There’s my name?”

The other one nodded. “It got my name, too. Minhyuk. See?”

“Huh? Do you think this is from dad?”

“Dad?” Minhyuk chuckled. “He left us long time ago, he might’ve been dead. It’s not from him, you silly.”

“He’s your dad too, how could you say something rude like that.” Jooheon scoffed.

“Whatever. Open yours, quick!”

Jooheon did as he was told by his older brother. Soon a nice scent was coming from inside and Jooheon pulled the paper out.

“Invitation…” he read. Minhyuk snapped his fingers.

“We got the same.”

“Invitation? To a wedding? Is your friend having a wedding?”

“What are you… stupid.” Minhyuk loosened his body. “Read it till the end.” Jooheon’s eye scanned what is it about. Eyes rolling left to right and back to left as long as the sentence.

“GH?” He stopped at the last two letter, written on the very bottom of the paper.

“I bet it’s the one who invites us. Who sent us these letters.”

“Do You think this is a joke?”

“Do you?”

“Uh…”

Lim Changkyun

“Babe,” his hand snaked behind the girl’s hip. “Why are you so…” he exhaled on her ear. “Beautiful.”

She squirmed and chuckled. Her hand brushed up from the man’s back to the back of his hair, grabbing some of those dark strands. “I know you slept with different women every nights, and those line probably were said to all of them.” She smirked.

He scoffed. “And smart too.” He gave a kiss on her lips.

She got up and grabbed the man’s shirt that was lying on the floor. “Where you going? You’re not staying?”

“Changkyun. I know no one ever stay after one night. It’s either the woman goes or you go.” She rolled her eyes.

“Right, right.” He pointed his finger to her. “But at least… give me one last kiss, baby. Before i moved on to someone new tomorrow.”

“Well,” she jumped to his bed and pecked him on the lips. “Bye-bye, asshole.”

He looked her leaving and slammed the door closed, before getting out of bed with just his undies on.

Thirsty after rounds of fucking, he grabbed his favorite mug and filled it with cold water, then gulped it down in a second before his eyes were nailed to something.

A white envelope with Lim Changkyun written on it, pinned on his dart board. With the mug still in his hand, he walked with a squinted eyes to unpinned it. “What the hell is this?”

He spun around. No windows or doors are opened and he was there the whole time.

Putting the mug on a table nearby, he opened the envelope in one go to find the invitation letter waiting for him to be read.

(Y/N)

It was right after your night dance class. You saw your locker opened wide and your fresh towel hanged down. Rushing, you looked around, hopping to find the culprit who forcefully (or not) opened your locker and rummaged into your things.

You checked all the stuffs you had thoroughly and thank God, nothing was stolen.

“Oh… thank God.” You stretched your head back. “But what is wrong with him… or her—“

The lights suddenly went off. The whole corridor was dark as hell. You didn’t hear any sound from anyone, who probably would screamed because of this sudden blackout.

You closed your locker and locked it. Then, when you heard footsteps coming closer.

“Is someone there?” You called. No one answered, but you heard it right, the footsteps are coming even closer, until you felt it was right in front of you.

“Hello, (y/f/n).” It was a deep low voice greeted you. Calling you by your full name.

“Who– who are you?” You took a step back.

“Don’t be scared, i won’t do any harm to you.” You could tell he was chuckling. “What do you want? Were you the one who went through my things?” Your voice sounded a bit shaky.

“Yes. I was about to drop something there, but i changed my mind.” He took a step closer. “Giving you personally is way more fun.” Then you heard something fell to the floor. Something thin, you know just by the sound it made.

Not long after that and before you could ask him anything, the lights went on again.

You blinked and stood there like a statue for a couple of seconds.

“What was that?” You shook your head and looked down.

An envelope with your full name written in a fancy font. Rushing, you opened and looked what’s inside.

NEXT>>

[nishijain777]

Automation Testing Company In USA

 The day past i was reading this news (4 obvious errors display insufficient attention), whilst the concept of this submit struck my thoughts. To be honest, the point out of the words “mistakes” and “concentration” inside the news headline caught my interest and when i finished analyzing the information object, i realized that it turned into not associated with any software program errors as i had expected before beginning studying it. But, on a second idea, when i tried to correlate it with software program trying out and software program testers, it started making a few experience to me and the following paragraphs are a result of it. 

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 Before i continue further, allow me make it clear that once i say cricket, i'm not speaking about the insect cricket (magnificence: insecta, own family: gryllidae). Alternatively, i am talking approximately the sport cricket (cricket is a bat-and-ball sport contested via two teams, typically of 11 players each). Allow us to see if we can correlate the sports activities cricket with that of software checking out! I certainly remember the fact that i might sound really stupid when i say so and even try and correlate  things as various as that of cricket and software program checking out. 

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 However in case you are also an ardent fan of cricket as i'm and realize some thing about the game, then i wager, you will no longer fail to appreciate the strive after completing studying this post. In case, you aren't a cricket fan, you may nevertheless hold studying this submit until the stop to look what i have to offer thru this write-up! I am going to pick out and listing out few factors that seem comparable among software program trying out and cricket:

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 1. (un)predictability: specialists say, ‘unpredictability of cricket is its greatest appeal’! It is very tough to expect a win or loss before the ultimate ball is bowled. And it's miles the unpredictability, which makes cricket so thrilling. Groups would possibly appearance robust or vulnerable on a bit of pen and paper. 

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 However in cricket, unpredictability reins, not the statistics. Coming to software program checking out, there can be testers who trust that it is simple and straightforward to count on a few fixed output after executing a sequence of test steps, but i handiest desire; trying out software program turned into as simple as that! Echoing some experts in software program checking out: seeking to are expecting the result of a test in terms of skip or fail standards may be one of those dangerous traps in software testing international, in which a tester can shoot at his own ft! Irrespective of the variety of take a look at scripts (either guide test cases or automated take a look at scripts) a tester has written, till the tester receives the utility module to test, not anything can be told for certain approximately the state of the software and its behavior. Unpredictability is one of those matters that make software program checking out a lot a laugh. 2. Capabilities: cricket is a sport where handiest skillful gamers can make their crew a winner. I'm no longer sure approximately different nations, however when you have ever been to india, possibilities are high which you may have visible cricket being performed on a avenue at the back of your lodge room! They are saying, cricket is a fever here in india. Right here human beings are so captivated with the game that they not handiest play and watch cricket however also eat, sleep and even drink cricket! I've played truthful amount of cricket in my school and college days. You would possibly have too. However the motive, why players like sachin tendulkar, brian lara and ricky ponting are taken into consideration as one of the greatest cricketers and no longer us, lies inside the cricketing abilities they possess. Likewise, in software testing too, it's far the trying out talent that differentiates a great tester from a mediocre one.

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  The one, who has the better trying out abilities in his arsenal, can locate extra essential defects speedy within the software program that he's trying out. Gaining knowledge of, training and applying are 3 golden rules to gather any skill. With willpower and robust will energy, nothing is not possible to learn. Luckily, software program trying out is not any exception! Three. Recreation planning (understanding the opponent): professional cricket is all approximately understanding the strengths and weaknesses of the opponent group and devising a recreation plan with a purpose to combat their strengths and to exploit their weaknesses. In software program testing, understanding the trying out mission is step one in determining the goal of the trying out effort. Without being clear approximately the aim, it'd turn out deadly to go about testing straightaway. Once the tester is apparent about the trying out venture, then he can examine his possibilities of fulfillment or failure depending at the availability and information of the aid in hand and the complexity of the checking out trouble. E. G. Imagine a state of affairs where the tester has to test the software to find out it’s robustness to protect towards hackers and different malicious customers. Know-how of a honest deal of details about the level of assault that can be tried against the software, can provide the tester a better danger to plan out a approach to emulate the assault and to test how the software guards towards it.

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  4. Coping with stress: winning a recreation of cricket is all approximately managing the pressure nicely. The team this is capable of handle the super amount of stress of the game sooner or later wins the game. For those who think or were informed that software program testing is an clean task and may be completed by means of each tom dick and harry, allow me warn you, you have got been extraordinarily misguided! Testing is a profession, which needs lot of intellectuality and stability of mind to work beneath sort of pressures (like technical pressure, strain due to workload, managerial strain, pressure of cut-off date, stress springing up from the nature of the task and so forth). As testers, the fundamental requirement of our activity demands us to deliver bad news (presence of defects, buggy modules that fail miserably on testability grounds etc) to specific stakeholders (the programmers, control staffs, clients) of the product underneath development. No person loves to pay attention terrible news. Sadly, long past are the times when messengers were no longer hanged just due to the fact they introduced in a awful news to the king! Subsequently, until the tester is pretty true at managing the pressure arising as a byproduct of his paintings, and is not so good at being diplomatic, he may locate it difficult to carry on with his activity for lengthy.

 On the other hand, the tester who has got the capability to deal with the pressure till the stop, has each chance of winning the checking out world cup! Five. Adaptability: if you have been watching cricket for sometime now, you then should be skilled sufficient to recognise that each time a group visits a distinct continent for playing cricket, it regularly unearths it hard to play as much as its traditional requirements, of route until we are speakme about a team like australia. Most asian groups discover it tough to play down underneath and the vice versa. And the purpose lies specifically inside the difference in the pitch circumstance in the one of a kind continents. Soil texture, clay nice, humidity, temperature, quantity of grass, dirt etc can have an effect on the behavior of a cricket pitch. The gamers who can adapt themselves quick with the brand new surroundings can gain an edge in the game.

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