#happy birthday to my little Irishman

[flying-ham]

it’s niall horans birthday today so of course I had to bring this bad boy back

[jacevelaryonswife]

After Dark | Prologue

“Of course we won’t go to a strip club,” Osferth replied. The result, well, it took only a small amount of persuasion and intelligence from the Irish to include his idea.

pairing: female stripper!reader x modern!osferth, finan and sihtric.

warnings: sensual and sexual themes, english is NOT my first language.

after dark | masterlist

A few days ago a bet was made and the result was not satisfactory for Osferth. His birthday was usually celebrated year after year in a modern, cozy and pleasant pub along with his faithful group of friends, however, to his despair and willful, the scenario had changed this time.

“I don't want to do that, I feel like a pervert,” he complained when they approached the entrance to the club, receiving a fun look and a wide smile from Finan, the creator of that. A blush took over his cheeks as he thought what was about to happen. It has become a common reaction whenever he thought about it since he lost in his own business.

“It only makes everything better,” the Irishman mocked, putting his arm over the shoulder of the youngest member of the gang. "We have to be open to new experiences."

The experience in question was Finan's suggestion about the initially innocent bet on football that Osferth started among the guys. Obviously the man with a thick accent would not miss the opportunity to take his naive friend seriously, suggesting, in case Osferth's favorite team missed that his birthday was spent in a different place, specifically in a strip club.

“Of course not,” the young man with dirty blonde hair had said at the time.

"Of course your team will lose or that you don't want to bet against me?" Finan provoked.

“Of course we won't go there's a strip club,” Osferth replied. The result, well, it only took small amount of persuasion and wit from the Irish to include his idea. It was a happy coincidence since only a few days he had discovered an adult entertainment house reasonably close to his work in the center. In a quick search on the internet, Finan saw that was a more than decent club (in fact it was almost exclusive) and had some dress codes and other shit. There was also a median fee to enter, an amount that would apparently be paid with the quality of the drinks and the ladies.

It was the perfect night option, but since Uhtred started going out with Æthelflæd he was not a companion for the occasion, which restricted only to his other two faithful friends.

"It's a little depressing to pay to have sex with a lady, but since we're here..." Sihtric said.

"Calm down, tiger, we're not talking about having sex with the ladies, just seeing them dancing," Finan replied, still keeping the cunning smile on the other two.

“I agree with Sihtric,” Osferth complained pouting.

"Of course you agree, if I hadn't seen you all shy with that girl from the library I would instruct you to follow a religious path, like a priest or monk," the Irishman acted again, seeing his friend's blush increase even more.

It was true that loving conquests were not Osferth's strength, much because of his more fervent Christian upbringing than other people. He still carried a lot of that in his adult personality, which generated a barrier when it came to moving things forward with women. It seemed wrong, it was wrong, a naturalized sin, but he wanted it so much. He wanted to feel the love and warmth of a girl, to feel the smell and feminine touch near her skin, even if it was an iniquity. He believed in the word, he believed in salvation, but he was a mere sinner like everyone else and increasingly adept at worldly seduction. Even if he shared Sihtric's feeling and his own morality was against what was about to happen, a small spark inside him was anxious to see what was behind that door.

“Hey dude, if you really don't want to do that I won't force you, I'm not a jackass,” Finan finally said, turning in front of him.

It was just a spark, would he surrender so easily to instinct? "I..." no, he couldn't... "I want to see. I don't know why, but I'm curious."

“I knew, there's a big Casanova under your monk's mantle,” he joked, pulling Osferth close again like a bear.

“Leave our baby monk alone, it's his day,” Sihtric chuckled, seeing them both pay and come in first.

A series of surprises already came as soon as they took the first step. It was less dark than the expected, not at all decadent in structure (as Finan had said), foci of neon lights were responsible for illuminating the environment and there were poledances on all sides, as well as a large and luxurious main stage with a dim orange light coming from the center. It was presumed that the main attraction happened there, so the three men sat in the front row (much because of Finan) In addition to these characteristics — Lord have mercy!

A half-naked blonde girl was on the next stage, removing her bra to a man in a suit who had given her a considerable pack of money.

"I didn't expect it to be like this," Osferth didn't measure the words before releasing them, then correcting them: "I didn't expect it to be so explicit, I thought the girls were wearing underwear."

“It's called a strip club for a reason,” Finan said when calling the waitress. "You're adorable, never change."

“They wear underwear for a part of the time,” Sihtric scored as he carefully watched the dancer's full breasts on the next stage, receiving a wink from her when she noticed the attention received from the Dane and the lack of attention of the man in front of her.

"That's good for your ego, isn't it?" Finan asked while waiting for the service, pointing between his friend and the stripper.

"Not exactly. They are paid for it, it's not genuine but it's still a beautiful lady,” he replied as he looked away at a still very shocked Osferth. "Worse things will happen than outside breasts, you better get used to it."

And in fact it happened, especially when Finan surprised the youngest with a ridiculous Bday Boy hat. After that, a young redhead dressed as a nurse approached the three men with an intentionally sweet smile, looking at the young man in the center.

“Mm, do you need any service, Bday boy? I know some things that can make your day even better,” she smiled.

“He's shy, it's the first time in a place like this,” the Irishman said.

“Are you a virgin in that, sweetie? We can handle this," the girl's smile widened, seeing him disconcerted. Osferth wanted to sink into the chair with the beginning of that, but everything changed when in the middle of the dance the girl guided his hand to his newly naked chest, leaning over him, making his eyes widen. "Usually customers don't touch me for free, but I decided to make an exception for something sweet like you." The meat was warm and soft under his hand, the feeling leaving their pants tight and his neck red.

“T-thank you,” he said. The drinks arrived and with them the red-haired woman, or Tracy as she was on the small badge in her nurse uniform, looked in the direction beyond the three men and nodded positively.

“It's time for the main show, dear, I'll have to go, but you can meet me later if you want,” she blinked seductively and collected her costumes and the notes that Sihtric, Finan and others threw in her direction.

During his recovery, Osferth didn’t notice the amount of men tripling in the chairs around the main stage, while his two friends were very attentive about it. Yes, the previous dancer was very beautiful, but it wasn't exactly what Dane was looking for in a show or in a situation. Again, it was almost a stab in his pride to have to pay for a girl's attention. Unlike Osferth for his religious creation and Finan who was just enjoying the adventure without any commitment, Sihtric's reason was different. He was having fun in the situation, but still the twinge in his ego was still quite present.

"What do you think will happen?" The Irish asked.

“A lady will show up and take off her clothes,” Sihtric replied by taking a sip of his drink, laughing internally at Finan's later comment.

Suddenly, all the other lights went out so that there was only the orange and neon light left on the highest part of the main stage and a male voice echoing throughout the club.

"The following attraction is not indicated for those who fear seduction. She, the lady of darkness, the lady of iniquity, the woman who will make your dreams come true. Contemplem, the-“

It was a lie to say that the three were not minimally anxious about what was about to happen, especially when the lighting became warmer and the sides of the stage accompanied the tonality. And then, you emerged between the orange smoke.

═════════════════════

— taglists:

general: @bel-bottoms @fan-goddess @kravitzwhore @partypoison00

ewanverse: @aemonds-fire @partypoison00 @schniiipsel @fan-goddess

for this story: @gemini-mama

[targaryenwriting]

TRADITIONS ft. The Judgement Day

I have no idea where this came from, because it’s definitely not the lil ficlet I planned to write when I sat down, but here it is. Hope you all enjoy a little peep into 3/4 of The Judgement Day on Christmas Eve.

His fingers barely graze the handle of the bathroom door when he hears the noise in the back of Finn’s throat, causing him to turn back with a glare. “Easy there, Romeo,” the Irishman laughs from his place on the plush bed. His eyes barely leave the television as he flicks through the channels, but Dom knows he’s watching him. “You don’t want to go in there.”

“But she’s –” He hates being cut off, but Finn holds up a hand, silencing him, and if it were anyone else - even Damian - he would snap back at the dismissive hand gesture, but there’s something about Finn that always feels like he’s trying to help. It’s never condescending or lecturous, never forced or harsh. It’s what Dom needs, he knows, even when he doesn’t want to admit it.

“I know what she’s doing, Dom. As Finn throws the remote control onto the bed, he turns, focusing solely on the younger man. “And I still think you’d be better off staying out of there.” He wants to listen, to put trust in the fact that Finn has much more experience with Rhea, with women in general, but his fingers hang on the cold metal and, through the heavy, wooden door, he can still hear her, her hitching breaths and gentle sniffing tugging at his heart strings. “Come away from the door.”

There’s a finality in his voice that makes Dom drop the handle, though he still hangs by the door. “I thought she’d be happy…” Biting the ragged skin of his lower lip, he sighs before making his way to the bed and perching awkwardly on the edge. He can feel the shift underneath him and when the older man’s hand takes up its usual place on his shoulder, offering a stiff squeeze, Dom allows his eyes to close, his head falling into his hands.

“The first few years are hard,” Finn says, settling in beside him. “When I first came to the States, every birthday, every Christmas, every missed event…It was like a fucking dagger in my chest. Missed my brother’s wedding, didn’t meet my nephew until he was nearly a year old…” There’s a far away-ness to Finn’s voice that tells Dom that time hasn’t made it any easier for him but he knows better than to speak when someone is talking about such personal matters, and he straightens up a little, leaning closer to the other man while he shares. “Rhea’s only been here a few years, Dom. It’s still hard for her and with her sister getting engaged…”

“But all three of us are away from our families, I thought that was the whole point of being together tonight?” Dom sighs, hands catching in the soft curls as he runs them through his hair. The hard part was going to be not having Damian with them, that’s what Rhea had said when they dropped him at the airport to go see his family. But they had each other…

It was the one thing that had kept him going over the last few weeks, knowing that he had Finn and Rhea. The closer they drew to Christmas, he’d found himself thinking more of his mother, who would no doubt still set him a place at the Christmas table in the hopes he’d come home, and his sister who would be forced into the stupid matching pyjamas alone this year, despite both of them being way too old for that tradition now… Knowing that Rhea and Finn would be with him this year, that this could be a new tradition… It had been enough for him. But not for Rhea.

“You’re away from yours out of choice, Dom. It’s not the same.” The tightness in Finn’s voice doesn’t go unnoticed, but the bathroom door clicks before Dominik can protest. Standing in the doorway in her black silk pyjamas and her hair falling into her eyes, Rhea scratches absentmindedly at her neck, ragged nails leaving pale, red stripes where her fingers had been. Finn’s arm remains around Dom’s shoulders, fixing him in place while Rhea crosses the room wordlessly, her legs folding under her as she settles into the large armchair provided by the hotel.

“Are you okay, m-Rhea?” Dom catches himself before he calls her the nickname, the one that falls so effortlessly off his tongue. With her pink, scrubbed cheeks and reddened eyes, he knows its not the time.

“Just hungry,” she lies and Finn’s grip tightens, just enough to let Dominik know not to push it.

“We - we can get food. There’s room service or –”

“I usually have Chinese on Christmas Eve,” she says, nibbling on the skin by her thumbnail.

“Chinese takeaway?” Finn finally lets go of Dom, reaching back to grab his phone. From Dominik’s position on the bed, he can see a few messages from Damian in the group chat, no doubt telling them all how much he misses them, now he’s a few beers down. “What about you, Dom?”

“Sure, Chinese is fine.” He struggles to look away from Rhea as he speaks. She’s cried in front of them before, but mostly out of frustration - this is different. She looks so different, so raw and delicate, and he knows that’s why she wont look at either of them, her eyes fixed on a worn spot of the carpet by his feet.

“No. That’s not what I asked. What do you usually eat on Christmas Eve?”

Dom’s mouth almost waters as he thinks about the post-Mass feast his mother would be making. The soups, the meats, the desserts… “It’s Noche Buena. We, uh, we go all out. Real back to the roots stuff. My mom, she spends all day making it, but it’s like nothing else. Even Thanksgiving can’t top it,” he says, almost lost in the moment. The mention of Thanksgiving seems to get a reaction from Rhea who laughs as he adds, “we never did get those tamales last month, huh?”

“Alright, Chinese for Rhea, Mexican for Dom,” Finn bashes away at his phone, attempting to peruse the menus of local takeouts. “And I think I’ll go pizza this year.” For the first time, Dom realises that he doesn’t know what Finn has done all these years, alone and away from his family, spending Christmas in that pokey apartment of his…

Once Finn has made his order, he passes the phone to Rhea, who spends far longer than she needs to finding the perfect Chinese takeout. Dom suspects she just doesn’t want to look at him and Finn, but he waits, patiently. He wants to take her hand and make all sorts of stupid promises that next Christmas she can be with her family, just to bring a smile to those lips he’s grown so fond of, but he knows its useless. He knows they cant make that promise, and instead he offers Finn a weak smile.

Finn’s phone flies as Rhea tosses it, landing squarely on Dom’s lap. “You’re up,” she says, before quickly looking away again.

“So this is it, eh? Takeaway for dinner in the world’s smallest hotel suite?” As Dom attempts to find a 5-star Mexican restaurant - knowing well-and-good that they won’t match up to his mom’s cooking - Finn pushes himself to his feet and, barefoot, he walks across to where Rhea is sitting. “It’s not what any of us planned but… we can make do. Make our own traditions.” Rhea dodges a kiss to the top of her head, but Dom notices the smile as she does, that secret one that only he, Finn and Damian ever see, and when she tugs her legs to her chest, she rolls her eyes at him for watching. “Roll your eyes all you want but this is what Christmas is all about, you two. It’s about family - and not just family by blood.”

“Here we go,” Rhea laughs. “Better phone Damian, Dom. He won’t want to miss a Balor Speech.”

“Next year, he’s not getting out of it. It’s going to be all four of us. Preferably not in a Four Seasons,” Finn smiles, and Dom wonders where they could possibly celebrate together. It’s always easier on the road, in suites and family rooms, and not one of them lives in an apartment big enough to house the other three…

“A lot can change in a year,” Dom says, and though he’s trying to be positive, he knows his doubts creep into his words.

“But not us,” Rhea counters, those big blue eyes, sharp and piercing, focused on him from across the room. “Now can you hurry up? I’m fucking starving.”

[boxed-n-bottled-arson]

Today, the world was cursed

[artemiseamoon]

A Cup of Ale

Finan x f reader fluffy drabble

For my dear friend @charming-merlin​ Happy belated birthday to you!  I added in some little details to make it special. 

Words: 432 | no warnings

An: Ale, Mead? I never know which one is accurate but Ale works better for the title. This is my first try at finan, so be kind to me yall. I’m still getting the hang of TLK guys so I can write them.

The first time the handsome warrior saw you, you were walking through the market carrying a basket. Aside from your beauty, Finan noticed the large dog at your side, it was one of the biggest he’s ever seen.

Soon, you were gone, disappearing into the crowd before Finan could approach. From then on, whenever Finan could, he kept an eye out for you. Though this place had many women, none captured him fully as you did.

It didn’t take long for Finan to see you again. On the third day, excitement fills him as he sees you. You wore a beautiful dark blue dress, simple braids in your hair and carried that same woven basket. You smiled at familiar faces as your dog walked by your side.

You were quickly joined by two others and turned to leave the market. Hoping you’d look back, Finan keeps his eyes on you until you glance over your shoulder, you catch the Irishman's gaze. He waves at you, you wave back and continue on your way.

It's not until a week later that Finance sees you again, this time you are alone.

“Who is that?” Finan asked himself aloud. He wasn’t expecting an answer, but a local appeared at his side.

He didn’t know much about you either, but he shared what little he did with Finan. Your family lived on a farm just outside of the village, they lived here for many generations. You were quiet, mostly stayed to yourself aside from a few friends and didn’t come into town often.

This little bit of information only made Finan more curious about you, he decides to take his chance. You notice the vikings approach, a charming grin on his face as he nears you.

“Hi, I’m Finan,” he holds out his hand.

You smile and shake his hand, “ I know who you are.”

“Well, that puts me at a disadvantage. I’d really love to know who you are. Could I interest you in a cup of ale by the warmth of a fire?”

Grinning, you feel the butterflies in your stomach dance around. Finan, still holding your hand in his own, raises it up to his lips. He plants a kiss there, his beard tickles your skin.

“Well, now that you ask. It was my birthday recently so - “ You trail off, keeping eye contact.

“Your birthday!” He says with excitement. “We must make today special.”

Finan releases his hand and offers his arm. You take it and walk together into the ale house.

More TLK 

The Last Kingdom tags? Yes ! You can apply via comment, ask, or fill out my form

Tlk: @naaladareia​

Not sure which characters you would like to be tagged for?  @flowers-in-your-hayr​ @plantandbookwhore @iwantadecentblogname (can't tag either of you) 

Finan: @charming-merlin @solinarimoon​

[mrsalwayswrite]

Lost In You (Hvitserk x Reader)

This is my contribution to @maggiescarborough​ 400 followers writing challenge! Congrats again! 

The scenario I chose was the character asking reader/oc out or the other way around. And because why not, it is a Vikings/The Last Kingdom crossover! 

Also this is my first time writing Hvitserk! Yay! Let me know how I did! 

Warnings: angst, a couple swear words, fluff, bad pick-up lines

Words:5400

Tag List: @youbloodymadgenius​

  "Who is that?" 

 "Mmmm, which one?" Siri asked, openly ogling in the direction your friend, Erika, had gestured. 

 "Oh, those are some of Ubbe's friends from university." Torvi answered, with a glance over her shoulder. "He invited them since he never sees them anymore."

 "Hot damn. The one with the long hair, I'd like to climb him like a tree all night long." Wiggling her blonde eyebrows, Siri laughed at her own joke. 

 Curious now, you peeked over at the three men who were animatedly talking to Ubbe. There was no denying they were all gorgeous in their own ways. Somehow everyone within the social circle of the Lothbroks was beautiful, as if it was some unspoken requirement. These three certainly exceeded that requirement. Glancing around the backyard, you noticed right away that your friends were not the only ones ogling the newcomers. You doubted the men would be leaving alone tonight. 

 One of the three, with long, dark hair pulled back in a man bun and a crooked smile, caught your eyes staring. A warmth rose to your cheeks at the realization you had been caught. Though as his blue eyes held yours, you found yourself unable to look away, entranced by his unrestrained confidence. After an unending second of staring at one another, he sent you a naughty wink. Your eyes darted away at the raw suggestive feel the simple action had. You had no idea that a simple wink could feel so lascivious….and rousing. 

 "Oh gods, did you see that?" Erika asked, giggling like a schoolgirl. "One just winked this way."

 "Pretty sure he was winking at y/n." Torvi teased, nudging your shoulder as she stood next to you on the back deck.  

 "Yeah, no." You countered, fiddling with the label of the beer bottle in your hand. "That was probably towards one of you guys."

 Torvi sighed, pursing her lips at you. "Don't start this again, y/n. You are gorgeous and anyone who says differently is a blind asshole."

 Taking a sip of your beer, you did not bother to reply. Instead you gave Torvi a smile in thanks but kept your own insecurities to yourself. She had heard you more than enough times complain about things you disliked about yourself. Besides, today was not about you. You were supposed to be here having fun and supporting Ubbe and Torvi. 

 Luckily, Torvi started talking about the latest venue she had checked out for her and Ubbe's wedding next year. It was a perfect distraction since she had asked you to be one of her bridesmaids. Your small group talked about the outdoor wedding she wanted and how beautiful the fall colors would look in the pictures. 

 Ubbe's birthday party was in full swing. The mansion he and his brothers lived in was full of Ubbe's friends and other family friends. You had grown up with the Ragnarssons, your mother and Aslaug were close friends. So whenever they decided to hang out, you tagged along to play with the boys. Because of that, you were close to all of them, having spent just as much time at their house as at your own. Over the years, you had grown particularly close to Hvitserk. The two of you just somehow clicked. On more than one occasion, he would sneak over to your house when he needed a break from the strained dynamics of his family, or he could not handle the animosity between Ivar and Sigurd. The two of you spilled secrets in the dark, promising to never tell another. Both of you shared your first kiss under the stars one night, giggling at how grown up you felt. 

 And somewhere along the way, your feelings of friendship turned into something far stronger. 

 Over the following years, your crush on him endured even as you tried to quell it, doing everything in your power to suppress the unwanted feelings. Not because he was a bad guy. No, he was one of the sweetest guys you knew. He was loyal to a fault, always with a kind word, and happily giving suffocating hugs that felt like being embraced by a gooey marshmallow. 

 No, you refused to become another one of the girls that paraded in and out of his bedroom like the revolving door it was. 

 Besides, he never showed any hint of romantic feelings towards you. Usually he introduced you as one of his best friends. Which was just fine with you, he was one of your best friends and you would not trade that for the world. If fate had it planned that the two of you would only remain friends during your lives, you were happy with that. 

 So you did your best to ignore your unrequited feelings, focusing on finding love beyond him. There had been a couple boyfriends but most were scared away when you tried to bring them around the Ragnarssons. Ivar and Bjorn seemed to get particular enjoyment out of not-so-subtly threatening them. Hvitserk just openly glared the whole time, never saying a word of acknowledgement. Only Ubbe and Sigurd feigned being nice, but even that was less than desirable. Pretty quickly you stopped bringing boyfriends around. It was better for all parties if the Ragnarssons were not involved in your love life. What little it did consist of. 

 Suddenly, Erika's whisper-shout silenced the wedding conversation that was still happening around you. "Oh gods, they are coming over here! Shit! Act natural!" 

 "You're the only one freaking out." Torvi deadpanned, with a good-natured roll of her eyes. She looked up and smiled at Ubbe as he approached with his university friends. 

 "This here is my gorgeous fiancée, Torvi!" Ubbe announced, coming around and wrapping his arms around her waist to plant a sweet kiss on her cheek. She leaned back into his chest without a second thought, the action so instinctual. 

 "Aye, I remember you." One of Ubbe's friends, with a thick Irish accent, said. "You was datin' Bjorn when we first met."

 "Oh yeah, I remember that. One of you was super drunk and kept trying to take his pants off to piss in the fountain." She replied with a knowing smile. 

 The Irishman slung an arm around the dark-haired man, who winked in your direction earlier. "That would be Uhtred here! That was certainly a good night."

 The group laughed as Uhtred threw the Irishman's arm off and the two started a mock fist fight, ending with Uhtred putting the Irishman into a headlock. The two broke apart, laughing jovial and pushing one another like little boys. 

 "Right, where are my manners?" Ubbe said, once the two men settled somewhat. He pointed at each person as he named them, but kept his arms around his fiancée. "These guys are Finan, Uhtred and Sihtric, my mates from university. We roomed together in our first year, and the university couldn't separate us after, no matter how hard they tried. The other lovely ladies here are Erika, Siri and Y/n."

 You gave a polite smile when your name was said but dropped your gaze back to the beer in hand, fiddling with the wrapper on it. Uhtred made a point to catch your eye when you looked up, a charming smile on his face that you were sure made women drop their panties in a heartbeat. Even now you could feel his burning gaze on you, like oil gliding across your skin. 

 Soon Finan began sharing stories from back in their university days and some of the trouble they would get in, especially Ubbe, which made everyone laugh and Ubbe try to defend his honor or just hide his face in the crook of Torvi's neck. 

 "What are you thinking about?"

 You startled at the smooth, husky voice whispering in your ear. How Uhtred suddenly snuck up next to you was a little frightening. You pressed your hand over your racing heart, as if that alone would calm it down. "Um, nothing. Just….nothing." You took a sip of your drink to squelch your blabbering, unnerved and more than a little turned-on by the way his breath ghosted over your skin. 

 He raised a mocking brow, a devilish smirk on his lips as if he could somehow sense what his close proximity alone was doing to you. 

 You decided to break the tension. "It's Uhtred, right?"

 "Yes. Uhtred Ragnarsson."

 "Oh no, not another Ragnarsson!" You gasped, pretending to be horrified. 

 He laughed, a beautiful sound that had you swooning a little. Running a hand over the back of his neck, he grinned down at you. "Luckily, from a very different Ragnar. And how do you know Ubbe?"

 "We grew up together."

 "Ah, you're that y/n. I've heard a lot about you."

 "Hopefully all good things."

 "So far…" he leaned in closer, bringing his lips against your ear and setting your nerves alight, ".... but I wouldn't mind learning more about you."

 You swallowed, the low tone and those bedroom eyes made a warmth curl low in your belly. Your answer came out before you even could comprehend a response. "I'd like that."

 His smile grew, even as his face hovered just over yours. "Can I get you another drink?"

 "Please." 

 *****

 "Hvitty, what are you staring at?" Sigurd asked, taking a seat near his brothers. Although he may have been talking to Hvitserk, his gaze remained zeroed in a beautiful brunette nearby and the way she kept coyly glancing at him. 

 "Who is that guy?"

 Sigurd finally turned to look in the direction Hvitserk was glaring. "What guy?"

 "The one sitting with y/n." Hvitserk grumbled, rolling his beer bottle between his hands. 

 "You mean the one that looks like he wants to fuck her all night long?" Ivar said bluntly. His arrogant smirk grew when Hvitserk whipped his head around to give Ivar a withering look. Not that his elder brother's look bothered him, actually amusing him further, so he continued speaking. "Ubbe said he was inviting some university friends. Probably one of them."

 "I don't like him." Hvitserk spat out, returning his glare to you and this university friend of Ubbe's. The two of you were standing with a small group, listening to someone with a thick Irish accent tell some kind of story. Hvitserk gritted his teeth as he watched this friend lean down to whisper in your ear, making you smile and laugh. You tried to smack his chest but the guy caught your hand in the last second and brought it to his lips, planting a soft kiss on your palm while gazing at you with a look that radiated hunger. 

 "Why?" Ivar needled, watching the drama play out before him with unrestrained glee. 

 Hvitserk finally answered after a minute, caught up in watching you smile bashfully up at the dark-haired stranger, who tugged you towards some nearby chairs. "I don't….I don't trust him."

 Normally the two youngest sons of Ragnar were like oil and water; but in this moment, they glanced at each other and back to their elder brother with matching looks of mischief. 

 "Where is that girl that was sitting on your lap earlier? Figured you would have gone back to her place or up to your bedroom by now." Sigurd casually questioned Hvitserk, leaning back in his seat. "She was pretty, seemed like your type."

 "No, my dear brother, he got rid of her just after he noticed y/n and that guy talking." Ivar said with a shit-eating grin. 

 Hvitserk wanted to snarl at his brothers, tell them to mind their own business. Instead he took a long draw of his beer, pointedly ignoring them. Of course, Ivar would notice something so miniscule as that. His youngest brother noticed everything. Yes, Hvitserk had a girl on his lap, his hands and lips trailing over her exposed skin. The fire in his blood instantly cooled when he looked up long enough to see the stranger talking to you. Without a second thought, he pushed the girl off of his lap, much to her protests and chagrin, and moved to take a seat next to Ivar. He pretended he just wanted some air when really he could not drag his eyes off of you. 

 The youngest Ragnarsson continued, hand tapping idly on one of his leg braces. "It has been some time since y/n had a boyfriend. This might be good for her." 

 "Maybe she'll get laid tonight." Sigurd raised his beer bottle in a mock salute before taking a sip.  

 That last comment pushed him over the edge. Wordlessly, Hvitserk jumped to his feet and walked away, unable to hear it anymore. It was no secret, him and his brothers were protective of you and had chased off a fair number of guys over the years. Though, their protective streak waned after you finally confronted them about leaving your love life alone. Since then, the brothers kept an eye on you but no longer interfered unless you signaled them. The arrangement made sense, you never involved yourself in the many women the brothers pursued, so now they showed you equal courtesy. 

 For some reason tonight, it was different. 

 The flaxen-haired Ragnarsson walked past the other party-goers, ignoring the cheers, laughs, and few calls for his attention. A drinking game started at the fold-out table situated in the grass. Music filled the air, Ubbe's taste in music since this was his party. Suddenly though, it was all too much. 

 Storming inside the house the brothers shared with no real destination in mind except to just move, he was pleased to find the kitchen vacant. Leaning against the marble counter in the kitchen, he ran his hands over his braids, heart pounding for some reason. The urge to punch something, or someone, seemed to grow with each second that passed. He absent-mindedly wondered if this was how Ivar felt all the time. 

 Peering out the window over the kitchen sink, he could see you sitting next to Ubbe's dark-haired friend on a lawn chair. From this position, it appeared you were almost in the guy's lap. One of your hands clasped a beer while the other toyed with the necklace you habitually wore. With a wicked look, the stranger leaned over to whisper in your ear, one of his hands resting on your hip. Whatever he said made you laugh, as you threw your head back, mirth spilling from you. For anyone else, it would have been sweet to watch the two of you, a connection and a growing infatuation evident. 

 The scene caused Hvitserk's blood to boil. He gripped onto the counter's edge to ground himself before he went out there and punched the guy. It made no sense. He had no right to try and separate the two of you. Feelings be damned, every part of his body revolted at the scene unfolding before him and how he allowed it to happen. Slamming his eyes shut, he silently counted to ten, willing himself to settle. He knew he needed to walk away….but his feet refused to move. 

 "Hey, Hvitserk."

 Slowly opening his eyes, he looked over his shoulder at the call of his name. A pretty blonde stood just inside the kitchen, twirling a piece of hair around her finger with an enticing smile and a body begging to be touched. He remembered her. He fucked her a week ago. Staring at her now, her name continued to slip his mind. Did he even know her name at the time?

 "Hey." He replied unenthusiastically, maintaining his grip on the counter edge. 

 "What are you doing in here?" She asked, walking closer to him, her hips swaying with each step. 

 "Nothing."

 "Oh, well are you bored? Do you need some company?" She trailed a finger down his arm, peeking at him through her long lashes. "I can think of a few ways this night could end for us."

 He looked down at her. Any other time he would have jumped her in a heartbeat. It would have been almost too easy to drag her upstairs and fuck her until they were both delirious with pleasure. 

 "I'm good." He stated, looking away from her and back out the window. 

 "You sure I can't change your mind? I mean last time we had…."

 Uncaring of how harsh he sounded, he shrugged her arm off. "I said I'm good. Fuck off."

 Her eyes widened for a moment before they narrowed at him and she took a step back. "Fine. Fuck you, Hvitserk." She stomped out of the kitchen, each step a clatter on the hard floor. 

 "You just tried." He muttered to himself, dropping his head to his chest.  

 What was wrong with him? He knew what it was though. Or more specifically- who. A war waged in his chest and he worried the repercussions of either side winning. This limbo would surely kill him. 

 Peering out the window, he could not take his eyes off of you. Although you vehemently disagreed, he thought you always looked beautiful. Tonight though, in the fading sunlight, you looked gorgeous. Like a new light had been ignited in you, radiating joy and life. It was mesmerizing to witness. 

 "Hey! Probably should start wrapping the party up in an hour or so. Way more people turned out than I thought." Ubbe said with a beaming smile as he walked into the kitchen, dropping some empty beer bottles on the counter. At his brother's silence, he stopped and really looked at him. "Hvitty, you alright, man?"

 "Yeah, of course." He snarked, not in the mood for his older brother's prying. "Why wouldn't I be?"

 "First, you're lingering in the kitchen like some housecat looking for food, which I guess isn't that strange."

 Hvitserk's lips twitched but he continued to stare out the window.

 "Secondly, it looks like you're trying to set Uhtred's head on fire with how hard you are staring."

 He sighed, rubbing a hand down his face."It's nothing, Ubbe. Don't worry about it. Go head back out."

 After a moment, Ubbe grabbed two new beers from the cooler and came over to his brother's side, passing him one of the drinks. With a murmured thanks, Hvitserk took it, immediately popping the top and taking a long draw. They stood silently for several minutes, just sipping on their beers and watching the party outside in companionable silence. 

 "You going to tell her?" Ubbe finally asked, keeping his gaze straight ahead. 

 Hvitserk stiffened and pressed his lips together, the urge to hit something renewed after Ubbe's question. 

 "You can't get mad at her for wanting love and attention, especially when she's not getting it from the person she wants it from most." Ubbe glanced over at his sullen brother but plowed on. "Look, I know you like fucking around but if you expect her to keep waiting around for you….she won't. And it looks like she and Uhtred are really hitting it off. I won't stop them just cause you won't tell her how you feel."

 "What are you saying, Ubbe?" He growled, though if the steadily increasing anger was directed more at his brother or himself, he could not tell. 

 "I'm saying man up and tell her, or let her go. It's up to you." With a clap on the shoulder, Ubbe headed back outside. 

 Hvitserk took a sip of his beer, Ubbe's words bouncing around in his head. Over the years, the crush you had on him had not gone unnoticed, though he never addressed it. Ubbe eventually confronted him about it, forcing Hvitserk to reveal his own secret. He knew what he wanted. He had known for a long time. Was it too late though? Had he fucked up his chances for real happiness? Did he even deserve you anymore?

 *****

 You laughed, covering your mouth to try and muffle the uproarious sound. "That one was great! Ok, ok, tell me another."

 Uhtred sat behind you on the lawn chair, smiling broadly as he took a sip of his beer. Since he walked over to you at the beginning of the party, the two of you had been inseparable. He seemed to take particular pleasure out of making you laugh and currently he was telling you some of the best and worst pick-up lines he knew. Apparently, him and Finan liked to come up with new ones when they were bored. 

 He wrapped an arm around your waist, pulling your back closer to his chest as he whispered in your ear. "You're so hot, even my zipper is falling for you."

 Giggling, you covered your face. Not just because of the silly line but ever since the two of you sat down, him practically pulling you into his lap, he had you teetering on the edge of arousal. The way his broad chest felt pressed against you, the rumble sound when he chuckled, and those damn bedroom eyes with that smirk which promised so many beautiful, naughty things. It was driving you insane. 

 "Is your name Wi-Fi? Because I'm really feeling a connection." He said, his hand slowly trailing up and down your thigh. 

 "Please tell me someone has used that."

 "Finan did at a pub once."

 "I don't know him, but I'm guessing it worked." 

 Uhtred chuckled, giving you a playful wink. "It did."

 You tried to tamper down the butterflies dancing in your belly from that simple action. "Alright, what is one you've never used?"

 He thought about it for a second then in a flash, he licked up the rim of your ear. 

 "What?" You squirmed and tried to wipe your ear off. "What was that for?"

 He laughed, while his hand kept you pinned to him. "If you lick something, you get to keep it. Everyone knows that. So now you're mine."

 "Well if you're going to claim me, you could have done it without licking my ear."

 You swore his eyes darkened as he stared down at you. His voice husky as he whispered in your ear. "And if there are other parts of you I want to lick?"

 Your breath caught in your throat, desire slipping through your blood. "Guess you need to work on your lines." You whispered back, hoping it sounded confident but sure it sounded more needy with want. 

 "I'm a man of action, I'd rather show you what I want to do."

 "Like what?"

 With a cocky smirk, he slowly lowered his head until his lips touched yours. You gasped but gave in without remorse, allowing him to lead you in a slow dance. His lips were pure seduction, caressing and teasing, making you yearn for more. His tongue flicked over your lips before he pulled back, eyes scanning over your face to gauge your reaction. 

 "That….that was much more convincing than a pick-up line." You breathed out. 

 "I'm glad you approve."

 "What else can you show me?"

 His gaze dropped back to your lips and you tensed with anticipation. 

 "Y/N!!" 

 You almost gave yourself whip-lash with how quickly you spun your head around at the call of your name. You saw Hvitserk approaching, hands in fists by his side and jaw clenched. His abrupt yell had most of those still around watching the two of you with curiosity. 

 "What?" You asked, your body vibrating with confusion and need.

 "Come here. I need to talk to you." He kept his hard gaze on you, making you feel like a child about to be reprimanded by their older sibling. 

 "Can we talk later?"

 "No, it's important."

 "She's busy right now." Uhtred declared, snaking his arm around your waist. You knew the move was possessive and with the way Hvitserk's eyes narrowed and burned with intensity, you knew Uhtred's move was not for your sake.

 Hvitserk met your eyes, pleading in a way you had never seen before and his tone suddenly soft. "Y/n….please."

 You sighed, those damn puppy dog eyes. "Fine, this better be important." You grumbled, removing yourself from Uhtred's embrace. 

 "Don't take too long, I'll be waiting." Uhtred said, flashing you a charming smirk. 

 You smiled at Uhtred then followed Hvitserk back towards the house. There were a few looks of confusion from those you passed by that you caught, but otherwise most people ignored the two of you, too focused on the party. Besides, everyone knew you and Hvitserk were friends so it was no surprise to see you in one another's company. 

 Your mind wandered as to what the issue could be. Surprise coursed through you as he led you up the stairs towards the brothers' bedrooms. Once Ivar, in a drunken fit, insulted a girl so harshly she had burst into inconsolable, wailing tears, forcing the brothers to pull her away into one of their rooms to calm her down. Maybe something like that had happened again? You tried to remember if you saw Ivar recently but realized you had been too absorbed in Uhtred to truly take notice. 

 Hvitserk led you into his bedroom, the door slamming closed behind you. With a quick glance you noted the two of you were alone. The bed was still made, so he had not brought a girl up yet. Confusion continued to mount within you. 

 "What's going on?" You finally asked, taking a seat on the edge of his bed. 

 Instead of answering, he paced several times in front of you, running his hands over his braids. A couple times he stopped, turning to you and opening his mouth but then immediately closed it to continue pacing. It was quickly becoming infuriating. Plus he was going to ruin his braids with how hard he was running his hands over them. 

 "Hvitty, you need to tell me what is going on or I'm going to go back out. You said it was important."

 His pacing ceased. Twisting to face you, he threw his hands up as he exclaimed, "I want you to marry me!"

 You froze. Your jaw dropped as you stared at him. Only in your wildest fantasies did you ever think you would hear that uttered from his mouth. Years ago, you had buried that fantasy, knowing it would never come to pass. Now you stared at him, staring at you. Both of you seemed shocked by what he just blurted. 

 "Fuck, that's not what I meant to say first." 

 "So….so you don't want to marry me?" You tried to clarify, your mind scrambling to make sense of what just happened. 

 Mumbling something unintelligible, he ran his hands once more over his braids; then in what appeared a split second decision, he advanced closer, dropping to his knees in front of you. "Yes. I do. Fuck. I'm doing this all wrong."

 "Hvitserk, what is going on?"

 He sighed, placing his hands over yours as if to steady himself. His words poured forth like a confession, secrets finally freed yet terrified by the light now on them. "Ever since we were children, it's always been you. Whenever I thought about getting married, buying a house, having children….it was always with you. Never have I thought about it with anyone else. It's always been you….and….and it terrified me. You are one of my closest friends, gods, I don't know what I would do if you weren't in my life. I couldn't lose that, lose you. And with watching my parents and their marriage, I didn't….I didn't want us to go through something like that. So I never said anything. I fucked around because it was easier to pretend to be ok with that than realize I only ever saw you in my future….you've all I've ever wanted."

 Stunned, you gaped at him for a long time. "Why…." You licked your lips, mind fumbling to formulate a question. "Why are you telling me this now?"

 "Because you needed to know, or I just needed to tell you. I guess, I just needed to know if you would choose me, even after everything I've done. But if you rather be with someone like that guy out there, I get it. I mean, I figured I lost my chance years ago….but watching you out there. Fuck! I want it to be me. I want your smiles and laughs. I want to steal kisses from you. I want you in my bed, to roll over and hold you close. I want to live with you and kiss you before we leave for work. I want to watch you grow round with our child. I want the fights and frustrations. I just….it's always been you. I just want you….in everything."

 The two of you remained frozen in place for several minutes, his confession weighing heavily in the air around you. You stared into his earnest, brown eyes, searching them, studying them, confirming the truth. His words peeled back the layers you had built around your heart, to protect it from loving him too much. 

 In this moment you knew you teetered on the edge of a knife. If you fell one way, it would be into his arms, into a love you had only ever dreamed about. But if you fell the other way, everything would remain how it had been, you could be friends, freeing you both to pursue others. But this knowledge shared between you would haunt both of your actions forever. 

 Could you do it? After so long of pining after him, of your unrequited affections, did you trust him to fully reciprocate? 

 In your heart, you knew your answer even as he spoke. It laid there tattooed on your heart ever since you were children. 

 You finally broke the tense silence, bringing a hand up to lightly run over his frizzed braids. "You know, most guys ask a girl out on a date first before asking to marry them."

 He chuckled, catching your hand and pressing it to the side of his face. "That's true." 

 "Ask me."

 "What?" His brow furrowed faintly as he stared up at you, his thumb rubbing the back of your hand. 

 You took a deep breath before a small smile teased your lips. "Ask me to go on a date with you."

 "Y/n, will you go on a date with me?"

 "Yes. I would love to."

 His face beamed with a boyish smile and bright eyes alight. It made your heart stutter at how handsome he was, at the pure, genuine joy radiating from him. Surprising you, he kissed your palm quickly before a gleeful laugh escaped him. You could not help your own giggle. Everything felt so surreal, like the two of you had stepped into a dream, a bubble of your own making. Here, reality was irrelevant. You stared at one another with stupid smiles on your faces but neither cared.  

 "Can I kiss you?" He asked softly, gazing up at you with such a look of adoration, you felt yourself melting. 

 "You better."

 Without waiting an extra second, he captured your lips in a kiss that bespoke of longing. It started off with gentle, probing kisses that urged you to respond. A call you had no qualms about answering. Your tongue flicked against the seam of his lips and that was the key to unlock his restraint. Next thing you knew, you were on your back with him hovering over you, worshiping you using his mouth and tongue. You were utterly at his mercy and for once, you completely surrendered yourself to his touch, knowing he would be there to catch you. 

 The two of you laid there on his bed, tangled in one another, your mouths fused together as if you needed the other to continue breathing. Finally when air became a desperate necessity, he pulled back. Immediately, though, he set his forehead to yours, unwilling to move further away than that. 

 "Did you... want to go back out….to the party?" He panted out, his chest heaving just as much as yours. 

 You giggled, running a finger over his cheek to trace his deliciously, swollen lips. "No, I have everything I've ever wanted right here."

 Then you kissed him, letting him taste the truth on your tongue. Soon you became absorbed in each other's touch, utterly entwined and unwilling to ever part again. If this was what it meant to be lost in love, you both hoped to never be found. 

[sophchoph]

Thank you to @archivefullofyoutubers for this fun idea! Super fun and sweet way to step back into the fandom 😊

Preferred name: Socks

Preferred pronouns: He/They

When did you start watching JSE? Lord this goes way back, but I think it was 2016/2017? Whatever year “say goodbye” came out was when I started watching.

Why did you start watching JSE? I had been watching Mark’s channel for some time, and Jack had been in a couple plus was always in my recommendations so I gave it a shot! It was actually super funny, I watched a single Happy Wheels video the day before, liked it and subscribed. The next day was Halloween. Halloween is my birthday, I love the holiday, and oh look, cute little pumpkin carving video by the fun green haired Irishman I found on YouTube! Well… safe to say I was hooked after that one haha

What's your favourite things about the channel? I’ve been away for a while, been some time since I used YouTube regularly at all really, but honestly it’s always just been the energy. The games are cool, the content is great, but for me it’s just the overall feeling of it all that’s kept me there and it’s that feeling that’s now drawn me back in.

Do you have a fave ego? I do, it’s Anti, I’m sorry 😂

What type of community member are you? Back in the day I was an artist/writer but as of late I’ve been more of a lurker. Hoping to get back in the art mood again soon though!

What else do you enjoy? I like to draw and write, those two are big things for me. I also adore animals and work in wildlife rehab, so if you ever want some cute animal pictures from my job to cheer yourself up, send me an ask and I’m your guy! Trust me I’ve got plenty of them

Are you open to nice messages and new friends? Of course! I’m an ADHD dumbass and forget to reply all the time though, so please don’t get hurt feelings if I take a while! I don’t dislike you I promise, I just forget things exist as soon as they leave my immediate vision

[scotianostra]

Happy Birthday Founding member of The Waterboys, Michael ‘Mike’ Scott born 14th December 1958 in Edinburgh.

Scott was born and raised in Edinburgh. His father, Allan Scott, left the family when Mike was ten years old, but the two were reunited in 2007.

Scott was interested in music from an early age. At age 12, after the family had moved to Ayr, he began a serious interest in learning guitar. In 1968 he mentions listening to Hank Williams as a “life-changing” experience. The next year, Scott was playing in school bands and formed the band Karma, they were inspired by David Bowie, The Beatles and Bob Dylan.

Playing in a few bands by the time 1981 came he had started the idea of The Waterboys, he admits that he “is” The Waterboys, the lineup has changed through the years but he say that “ there’s no difference between Mike Scott and the Waterboys; they both mean the same thing. They mean myself and whoever are my current travelling musical companions.”

It’s not all about having hits with The Waterboys, Mike is a natural songwriter, as The Waterboys and Mike Scott he has released 15 albums, 4 of the singles reached the top 40.

In mid-1980s, when The Waterboys supported U2 at Wembley Arena in London, Mike Scott’s band seemed all set for the same global status as Bono and Co.

The following year, when their third album, This Is The Sea, and classic single, The Whole Of The Moon, catapulted the band’s “big music” into the Top 10 such success seemed virtually assured. But it was never what he wanted. Under pressure from his record company to produce more stadium-pleasing Waterboys tracks, he retreated to Ireland… and made a folk record. Mike has lived in the Fair city of Dublin for over 12 years and holds a dual nationality, he said in an interview last year   “ ....people have often told me I’m an honouree Irishman, but I feel Scottish. But I’m very proud to live in Ireland. And my children are Irish. So, now I’ve very deep roots here.”

Mike continues to write and tour with the Waterboys, I remember always arguing with a friend that disagreed with me that the Waterboys were (are) a Scottish group, it’s true some of the members of the group have come from Ireland and England as well as the US but Mike Scott, as I said to him and would still say to him IS The Waterboys, The Whole of the Moon is a top class song and the lyric…

“Unicorns and cannonballs, palaces and piers Trumpets, towers and tenements Wide oceans full of tears Flags, rags ferryboats Scimitars and scarves”

……could only be written by a Scotsman. The song was initially released to a limited success in 1985, it resurfaced again in 1991 and won an Ivor Novello Award as “Best Song Musically and Lyrically” that year and reached number 3. Celtic Women sing a version at their concerts, Jennifer Warnes has also covered it as well as the late great Prince at Ronnie Scott’s Jazz Club during his 2014 Hit & Run tour. U2 used the song as a “walk out tune” during the Joshua Tree tour.

I’ve chosen another song, this is a solo track by Mike, I think you’ll like it, especially if you are from oor capital city.....

Edinburgh Castle.

 I woke up in the morning Seven twenty-four Drank a cup of coffee Stepped out the door I said Goodbye To my old best friend I took a ride To the old West End I walked along Princes Street My feet were hurting bad As I squirmed inside my shoes I was thinking about my dad There was the bones of a song Beatin' around my head Unless I remember it wrong This is what it said: Edinburgh Castle hugging the sky Cold grey stone, humourless and dry Sitting like a cork on top of the town One of these days I'm gonna blow you down I jumped on a bus A trusty number 23 To the Royal Botanical Gardens Where a ghost was calling me I saw a brace of weeping willows A burnt and withered land I saw a man and a little boy Holding hands I scanned the skyline It was like the backdrop of a play I never saw your heartless beauty Until I'd been away As I was climbing up The mound It struck me like a chime I must have dreamed this scene About a thousand times ! Edinburgh Castle hugging the sky Cold grey stone, humourless and dry Sitting like a cork on top of the town One of these days I'm gonna blow you down I found myself on Forrest Road Feeling pretty sore This city once was mine But it ain't mine anymore And here's my old school, "Jingling Geordie's" And I must confess I couldn't step through that gate Until I'm better dressed Back at Waverly Station Half dead on my feet I got on board the four forty-four Promptly fell asleep I woke up in Queen Street At my journey's end I've got to say it's totally great To be back in Glasgow again ! Edinburgh Castle hugging the sky Cold grey stone, humourless and dry Sitting like a cork on top of my town One of these days I'm gonna blow you down

[idontknowhowthisworked]

An interview with Jim Hutton in 2006 with Tim Teeman from The Times.

There’s an element of fairytale to Jim Hutton’s life, though he’d roar at the suggestion. A rough-hewn Irishman, he is utterly direct, has a husky voice, drinks heartily and doesn’t take himself or the topography of his rollercoaster life — the ordinary guy who got his prince, then lost it all — that seriously. “I’m gasping for a cigarette,” he moans, as he recalls the night that he met Freddie Mercury in March 1985.

That evening the former hairdresser (he’s the least “gay” gay hairdresser you’re ever likely to meet) was down to his last fiver. A man sidled up to him at the bar in Heaven, the London gay club, and asked him what he would like to drink. “We were both wearing a tight white vest, ice-blue jeans,” Hutton says. “I said, ‘No, what are you having to drink?’ And he said, ‘Large vodka’. Then he said, ‘How big is your cock?’ ”

Mercury would often say that by way of an introduction. But the flamboyant showman was nothing like the private man who shared the last six years of his life with Hutton. Had he not died of Aids in 1991, Mercury would have turned 60 on Tuesday but Hutton, 57, is having nothing to do with the many commemorative celebrations. He is marking the occasion at home in Ireland, recalling nights such as Mercury’s 40th birthday at a club in Munich, when Hutton dressed up in a multicoloured sequined jacket and the whole doolally affair, drag queens and all, was captured for the video of Living on My Own. “If he was here, I’d raise a cup of tea to him and say ‘Happy birthday, lad’,” says Hutton.

That first night, the two men and Mercury’s friends stayed up all night at Mercury’s Kensington flat (he also had an eight-bedroomed Georgian house, Garden Lodge, near by). It was only after he and Mercury had sex and Hutton had gone to the kitchen to make a cup of coffee that he was told who Mercury was.

“Joe [Fanelli, Mercury’s cook] told me. I honestly hadn’t recognised him. It didn’t matter to me. My preference was for meatier men. From the waist down Freddie was a swizzle-stick. But there was something about him. He pursued me. One night I had made my supper, bangers and mash, when Freddie called, asking me to dinner. ‘I’m just making mine’, I said. He said, ‘Turn it off. I’m sending a chauffeur to pick you up’ .”

Hutton became part of the Garden Lodge “family”, which included Fanelli and Peter Freestone, Mercury’s assistant. He watched backstage when Mercury electrified Live Aid in July 1985. “I was gobsmacked. You could feel the effect his stage presence had on the crowd. Afterwards Elton [John] came and said, ‘Bastard, you’ve stolen it’.”

The extravagances of Mercury’s world were new, though not dazzling, to Hutton, who had been brought up in a large Irish family in Co Carlow, the seventh of ten children. His father was a baker. He studied to join an order of brothers but fell for one of his teachers and become an apprentice hairdresser instead. By the time he met Mercury he was working at the Savoy.

Hutton moved in to Garden Lodge in early 1986. Were they monogamous? Hutton “veered a little bit but not much, I’m a one-man man”, while a friend of Mercury’s told Hutton that the star had a boyfriend in Munich. “She said that things weren’t going well between them and Freddie was bringing me to Munich to make this other guy jealous. I didn’t say anything; it would have given Freddie control. I saw him with another guy in Heaven and we had a huge row. He told me he did it to make me jealous. Then one day I saw him leaving his Kensington flat with another guy and we had an argument. I told him he had to make his mind up. And he said, ‘OK’, he wanted to be with me. Deep down I think that he wanted to be secure with someone who was down to earth and not impressed by who he was.”

Mercury’s hedonism has been overstated, says Hutton. Sure, there were waiters at Queen’s 21st birthday party with holes cut out of the backsides of their trousers, and, yes, Mercury did cocaine — but “recreationally and not that much”. Their domestic routine was settled. “He loved his cats. I’d get in from work. We’d lie together on the sofa. He would massage my feet and ask about my day.” Hutton gave up his Savoy job and Mercury employed him to garden and do odd jobs for £600 a month. “One day I was clearing out the pond, I was in waders, and he said he wanted a hug, and so we hugged, me dripping muck all over the carpet.”

Mercury kept significant parts of his life — Hutton, Queen, his family — separate. Hutton says that they were both naturally private. “He might have worried about how coming out would have affected him professionally but he didn’t say that. We both thought our relationship, and being gay, was our business.”

Mercury discovered he had Aids in 1987. He had a Kaposi’s sarcoma lump on his shoulder. KS is such an advanced symptom of Aids — wasn’t there any preceding sign that he’d been infected with HIV? No, says Hutton, nothing. “His attitude was ‘Life goes on’. He took AZT and nearly every other drug available. The doctors came to the house to treat him.” Hutton didn’t take a test himself. “I was afraid.” An HIV test he took in 1990 confirmed that he had the virus. He didn’t tell Mercury until he tested positive again a year later. “All Freddie said was ‘Bastards’.”

Hutton was healthy. Mercury was becoming more ill. “The doctors thought he shouldn’t do the Barcelona video. But his attitude was ‘I’m not going to let this thing beat me’. I noticed how skeletal he’d become only on the morning of his last birthday. Maybe I was in denial. But I think Freddie knew when it was the time to let go. He decided to come off his Aids medication three weeks before he died.”

Mercury was nursed by Fanelli and Freestone. “He wanted me to to do it but I couldn’t bear to see him wasting away,” says Hutton.

“He once spoke about dying and I said, ‘I don’t want to hear that talk’. The last proper conversation we had took place a few days before he died. It was 6am. He wanted to look at his paintings. ‘How am I going to get downstairs?’ he asked. ‘I’ll carry you,’ I said. But he made his own way, holding on to the banister. I kept in front to make sure he didn’t fall. I brought a chair to the door, sat him in it, and flicked on the spotlights, which lit each picture. He said, ‘Oh they’re wonderful’. I carried him upstairs to bed. He said, ‘I never realised you were as strong as you are’.”

The night before he died of bronchial pneumonia, a statement was released in Mercury’s name revealing that he had Aids. Hutton claims that he didn’t compose it himself. “He couldn’t have done. He wasn’t capable. His manager, Jim Beach, released it. I don’t think he would have wanted it. He wanted his private life kept private.” As for the criticism that he should have been honest about about being gay and having Aids, Hutton says that Mercury’s reaction would have been ‘F*** them, it’s my business’.”

Hutton was with Mercury as he died. “He was dosed on morphine and in Neverland. He wet himself. I knew that if he woke up and saw that there’d be blue murder so Peter and I changed his underwear and while I was putting his boxers on I knew he’d gone. I don’t know how. Joe got a mirror to check his breath and that was it.

“I went into my bedroom and stopped a carriage clock Freddie had given to me: the time was 12 minutes to 7. I briefly switched off the lights on the trees in the garden — a true Irishman would have turned all the lights off in the house, but instinct told me not to because of the press outside. Then I went upstairs and spoke to my mother. I was crying my eyes out.” Mercury’s mother, Jer, sent him a “lovely” letter thanking him for being there for her son.

Hutton and Mercury didn’t do deep and meaningfuls. “We communicated a lot without saying anything. But he constantly wanted to know that I loved him. And of course I did, deeply, and told him. When he was diagnosed he said to me, ‘I would understand if you wanted to pack your bags and leave’. I told him, ‘Don’t be stupid. I’m not going anywhere. I’m here for the long haul’.”

Hutton claims that Mercury had verbally stated that he should stay at Garden Lodge after his death but nothing was signed and he was given three months to leave. This “devastated” him and he went “absolutely crazy”, using the £500,000 that Mercury had left him to go on holiday, buy a house in Shepherds Bushand build a home in Ireland, where he now lives. “In all honesty, my only thought was ‘How long have I got to live?’

” Then, during Christmas 1995, he was sitting on his couch when he heard the ticktock of the carriage clock Mercury had given him. A friend had wound it up, but Hutton took it “as a sign it was time to move on”. He started on a course of HIV drugs, and moved back to Ireland where he works as a carpenter and odd-job man with one of his brothers. His health is good. There have been flings, and one long-term relationship with a guy who couldn’t bear to hear Mercury’s name mentioned, although Hutton reassured him that he wasn’t competing with a ghost.

Hutton has two dogs and five cats, and would like “a companion more than a lover”. His mother “pulled a fast one on me” by dying in 1996, the week before he returned to Ireland. He laughs, recalling her reaction to the pressmen who banged on her door to tell her that her son was Freddie Mercury’s lover. “Yes, I know,” she replied impatiently. (When Hutton told her he was HIV positive, she said: “Ah, we thought you might be.”)

What would Mercury have been doing at 60? “Waiting for his pension book,” Hutton roars, though adds seriously that Mercury would probably have gone on to writing scores for opera or ballet. Yes, he thinks of Mercury, “but not all the time”. He turns up the radio full blast if a Queen song comes on. Lately he’s become fixed on the track Innuendo. Had Mercury lived he thinks that they would have still been together. He still wears the platinum signet ring that Mercury gave him. (Mercury used to complain when Hutton took it off to garden.)

Hutton once dreamt that they had bought a cottage together; another time, in a semi-sleep, he felt he and Mercury were lying suspended in a tunnel of feathers. “Most of my treasured possessions are up here,” he says, tapping at his head, and he still has the framed four-leaf clover that he gave Mercury for his 40th.

“That’s what I remember most: his impish smile when you’d give him a gift,” Hutton says. “He would be as happy with 60 roses as 60 Picassos. His face really would light up. One Christmas I created a mountain-scene trainset. [Queen’s] Roger Taylor and Brian May came over and all three of them played with it, three big hairy kids.” Remembering his lover’s happiness, Hutton smiles, then pleads can he go now and have that damned cigarette.

[just-a-poor-boy-queen]

I've had a really hard day today and I saw someone wanted more Jimary crack, so I decided to write it to cheer myself up. I hope three fics in a row isn't too excessive. (All credit goes to the anon who suggested this.)

--

‘She’s drunk.’ Joe said very matter-of-factly, lifting his wine glass to his lips, only to discover there was nothing left in it.

‘Very drunk.’ Replied Phoebe, reaching for the bottle nearby and giving them both a refill.

It wasn’t as though they had never seen Mary drunk before. She was usually all giggly and bouncy after a few drinks, perhaps more talkative than usual and, in Joe’s opinion, far less uptight. But they had never seen her like this; her eyes heavy lidded, downing her wine like it was water and clumsily swaying to the music that filled the busy lounge, stumbling every now and again to keep her balance. She was clearly taking her break up with Piers very badly.

‘Freddie’s livid.’ Joe murmured, glancing over at the singer who appeared to be deep in conversation with Peter Straker, but kept glancing over at the intoxicated woman who was trying to coax Brian into dancing with her, much to the displeasure of Anita. ‘Prepare yourself for a screaming match later on.’

‘I already have the popcorn ready.’

Mary eventually gave up on Brian and loudly announced she was heading into the kitchen for another bottle of rosé, almost stepping on Delilah as she staggered through the door. She surveyed the kitchen a moment, the room spinning as her alcohol consumption finally caught up with her, before she noticed Jim sitting alone at the kitchen table, trying unsuccessfully to uncork a large bottle of champagne between his knees.

She had always been a little jealous of Jim. Before he came along, she had always held out hope that Freddie might return to her one day, discover he wasn’t actually into men or something daft like that. But then this Irishman appeared, who wasn’t like Freddie’s other boyfriends; for the first time, it seemed like Freddie was in love and ready to settle down, happy in a way she had never seen him before. It had been hard for her to accept; but when Piers had finally had enough of her obsession and left her, she realised that she would never be able to properly move on with her life if she kept latching on to the past. She had to let Freddie go. She had to accept that, while they would always be friends, Freddie was gay and what they had all those years ago was over.

Jim noticed her hovering and looked up, giving her a small smile. ‘Enjoying the party?’

Mary hummed in response, going to the cupboard where the booze was kept and digging around until she found the rosé she was looking for. When she looked back at Jim, he still hadn’t managed to remove the cork and was quietly cursing under his breath in his thick Irish accent.

It was quite a nice voice, her inebriated mind told her.

‘You have a lovely voice.’ She suddenly said aloud, her words slurred. She wobbled up to him, heels clinking against the kitchen tiles as she unscrewed the top of the rosé bottle. ‘Where is it you’re from again?’

Jim blinked at her dumbly. He wasn’t used to Mary initiating conversation like this; she was usually so reserved. ‘Um, a town called Carlow. It’s near Dublin.’

‘It is, isn’t it?’ Mary drawled and without any warning, she suddenly plopped herself down in Jim's lap, making him jump in surprise. ‘Ireland is sss-such a lovely place. Lots of sheep there.’

Jim’s face went red, and he carefully set the champagne bottle down on the table. ‘Yeah, I suppose there are.’

Much to his horror, Mary put the bottle of rosé to her lips and began downing the drink ruthlessly, not stopping until it was almost half empty. When she finally stopped, she carelessly abandoned the bottle next to the champagne and turned around to stare Jim directly in the eyes, her smile disturbingly wide.

‘You have beautiful eyes.’ She garbled, moving her finger as if she was going to poke them out, but she instead ended up giving him a weird boop on the nose. ‘And your arms are so big.’ She reached down to squeeze his bicep, giggling like a schoolgirl. ‘I bet you’re really strong. Remember when you lifted me up at Freddie’s birthday party?’

Jim remembered. He was so plastered that night he had almost dropped her on her head.

‘Are you feeling alright, Mary?’ he asked warily, not comfortable with how close their faces were.

‘I’m wonderful, Jim.’ Mary giggled again, though it sounded a little manic. ‘I really, really want to dance. Will you dance with me, Jim?’

‘I’m not much of a dancer, Mary.’ Jim coughed, glancing over his shoulder in hope that someone might come through the kitchen door and save him.

‘That’s not true! I’ve seen you dance!’ Mary insisted, pulling at his hands, ‘come on.’

Jim didn’t have the energy to argue with her, already a little tipsy himself, and he allowed her to drag him into the middle of the kitchen, face filling with colour as Mary threw her arms around his neck and sagged all of her body weight against him. He realised rather quickly that if he let her go, she’d probably fall face first onto the floor and never get up again.

The next five minutes had to be the most uncomfortable of his entire life, as he swayed in awkward circles with his husband’s ex-girlfriend, mindfully trying to keep his hands off her waist. He wasn’t a religious man, but in that moment, he prayed to every God in existence that someone would call him from the lounge and rescue him from this predicament.

Mary suddenly lifted her head from his shoulder and whispered in his ear. ‘Marry me, Jim.’

The Irishman stared down at her, eyes comically wide. ‘Beg your pardon?’

‘Marry me.’ Mary grinned at him, leaning so close that for one horrible moment he thought she might try to kiss him. ‘We can have lots of beautiful Irish babies together.’

Jim sighed. Next time they had a party, he was going to replace Mary’s wine with Ribena. ‘I’m very flattered by your offer, but there are two problems; I’m gay and I’m married to Freddie.’

‘Oh bugger.’ Said Mary, as if she had forgotten that detail. ‘You can still marry me though. We can run away to Cardiff together.’

‘Carlow, Mary.’

Her face suddenly fell and she stepped away from him, looking betrayed. 'Is it because of the cats?'

'The what?'

‘That's why you don't want to marry me, isn't it?’ Mary's lip trembled as if she was about to cry. ‘Freddie has cats and I don't!'

‘Mary, I’m going to get you some water.’ Jim replied, making a beeline for the sink.

‘No, don’t leave!’ Mary grabbed his sleeve, trying to tug him back. ‘Stay with me, Jim. I'll buy you all the cats you want!’

‘You’ll feel much better after drinking this.’ Jim said firmly, pouring a glass of water and turning around to hand it to her. As soon as he did, her lips were suddenly pressed against his own, arms locked around his neck so there was no escape as he yelled against her mouth in surprise.

‘Mary!’ he roared, as soon as she released him, half the water having spilled onto the floor during the struggle. ‘What the bloody hell are you playing at?!’

Mary grinned; lipstick smudged across her face, so she looked like the Joker. ‘I’ve never kissed an Irishman before. Does that make me Irish now?’

Before Jim could even answer, she suddenly dry heaved; he grabbed her and stuck her head into the sink as she vomited up the contents of her stomach.

--

‘What the fuck happened?’ Freddie demanded, as Jim walked into the lounge, his shirt ruffled, a smear of red lipstick on his mouth and a very drunk Mary giggling uncontrollably in his arms.

‘Your ex-girlfriend asked me to marry her, then threw up.’ Jim replied, as if this was a normal occurrence. ‘I’m going to put her in one of the guest rooms so she can sleep it off.’

He turned and walked out of the lounge before anyone could respond. Freddie clenched his glass so hard it was a miracle it didn’t shatter in his hand.

‘I’m going to murder her!’ he growled, lunging towards the door, only for Phoebe to grab him from behind and hoist him up. ‘Let me go! That backstabbing homewrecker is trying to abscond with my husband!’

‘Take it easy, Fred.’ Phoebe said calmly, holding onto the man effortlessly. ‘You can kill her tomorrow.’

‘Yeah, we haven’t even had dessert yet.’ Said Joe, holding onto Freddie's legs to stop him from kicking. ‘I spent all fucking day slaving over that baked Alaska, you’re eating it whether you like it or not!’

Firstly, I am so sorry you are having a hard day. I feel terrible that whilst you are doing so much to entertain us with this outrageous crackship, you are not having a good time. I can just hope that writing these stories bring you as much joy as they bring us.

And now, the fic. I AM WHEEZING. First of all, I fucking love Joe. Even though we've never heard him speak, or ever listened to his words through his own perspective, I feel that your characterisation is so realistic. His dessert comment slayed me lmao.

And oof, Mary being drunk off her ass is my new favourite trope. And lmao her thinking that Jim doesnt want to marry her because she doesn't have cats😂😂😂 Leave him alone, Mary. He doesn't want to have irish babies with you.

And hahahahaha Freddie's reaction is as epic as I had envisioned. And god, this is another nightmare that Jim isn't going to recover from soon.

This is such a fantastic crackship, omg. I absolutely loved this💙💙

(More drabbles by writer anon)

Also anon, if you ever want to talk, you can always dm me, if you are comfortable of course🧡

[everlarkbirthdaygifts]

Happy Birthday, b-boop5!

Happy Birthday, @b-boop5! We hope you’re having a wonderful day so far, and that you’ve got something equally wonderful to look forward to later! To start your party right, the lovely @endlessnightlock​ has written a story just for you!

“You know, I don’t understand how you managed to do this-'' Peeta Mellark tosses the words over his shoulder, with an expression on his face that I would describe as mildly put upon. 

I could not say why. Peeta is undoubtedly not the one in a precarious position- that would be me. 

What can I say? I am a bit of a high-spirited young woman- always known for getting into scrapes and mischief, not usually of my own doing. Though, at nearly five and twenty, the word “young” cannot apply to me much longer. Gale Hawthorne, my good friend, likes to tease that I will soon be ready to put out to pasture myself; he finds that joke particularly humorous because of my father’s profession as a sheep farmer.

While I maintain my precarious position on the tree branch, Peeta murmurs something under his breath, but I cannot hear his exact words- he did not direct them at me. 

I am beginning to wonder if he was annoyed by the summons to come to my rescue, although irritation of any sort seems odd coming from Peeta. I hadn’t caught him yet in any state of genuine anger, not even that one occasion on his farm when I watched him get kicked between the legs by one of his rams. His calm, quiet persona is one of his many mysteries. 

Peeta’s been in our county for nearly six months now; he arrived as a virtual stranger and took ownership of old Mr. Thread’s farm that neighbor’s my father’s place. 

Being a young man, he thus opened himself up to a world of gossip, not the typical line of inquiry either, such as how he came to have ownership of an eighty-acre sheep farm at such a tender age. Most of the discussion surrounding Peeta was on the topic of his wavy blond hair and broad shoulders, and his eyes, which are as blue as the lake in the middle of summer. Above all, conversation surrounded his lack of a romantic partner and what that could mean for our community’s unmarried ladies. 

In fact, since his arrival, Peeta’s been the most-talked-about bachelor since that fey Irishman Finnick Odair, who snuck away in the middle of the night with Annie Cresta, the daughter of the vicar. The pair eloped and afterward was the village’s talk for many weeks. 

It was not long after their marriage that he left our village to become a fisherman. The new couple moved to the coast, and I’m told by those who’ve seen them of late that the Odairs have a beautiful bronze-haired baby boy now.

But I digress- back to Peeta Mellark; I must admit he is very likable, and a handsome man to boot. He will have no troubles in his search for a wife when that time comes. I will be sad to see that day come; I have formed a deep affection for him that I surely must let go of once he finds a wife. The thought of Peeta marrying pains me, although I cannot say why.

Regardless of all those thoughts of marriage, I am rather grateful to him despite his current grumpy countenance. I don’t know if I would ever admit to such a thing- he already likes to joke with me too much. 

I think Peeta Mellark’s greatest joy in life is to tie my tongue up between my lips. I must admit that I don’t mind his teasing too much- he is too gentle of a man to ever be cruel in it. 

He is coming to my rescue- courtesy of Prim, that conviving sibling of mine who is currently nowhere in sight. She has never been one to pass up an opportunity to meddle in my business. Prim has been after me for months now, repeatedly saying that it has not gone unnoticed the way I have turned Peeta’s eye and that the village girls are quite jealous of me.

Balderdash! What would a man like Peeta find about me to be to his liking? I’m too wild by half; no sane man would wish to marry me. It’s pure foolishness when there are dozens of prettier, more wifely girls available in the village. He simply regards me as a friendly companion, and that is all there is to it.

Above the particular limb, beneath which Peeta is trying to get his wagon situated, is my straw bonnet, firmly stuck in the tree. My hat’s particular indignity of being stuck in there is woeful enough without the added misery of my head’s firm ensconcement inside its woven-straw prison. 

I am entirely stuck- neither my head nor hat will budge, no matter how much I struggle against my confinement. And I have struggled, but it’s all been in vain. A sharp stick must have impaled itself through both the straw brim and my braided updo at the same time. Fortunately for my neck, which I would prefer not to break today, the limb below where I sit keeps me in place for now.  

“It is a tremendously dull story, really,” I reply, hoping to maintain the breezy tone of voice I was trying to affect. While both of my feet remain dangling from the trunk beneath my bottom, keeping my dignity is no easy task. 

Peeta laughs, and the sound makes me feel a little lighter. “I very much doubt that- nothing is ever dull with you, Ms. Everdeen.”

“You’re correct- my comings and goings are rarely dull,” I admit with a resigned sigh. It was no use pretending otherwise; everyone was aware of the scrapes I often found myself involved in.

If I were at home in my breeches and my boots, this particular incident would never have happened. It is much easier to move about freely when I am unencumbered by this foolish style of dress. 

Also, if my sister’s orange demon-feline were not so horrendous in the first place- not to mention if Prim had left him home today instead of smuggling him inside her spare basket, this wouldn’t have happened. 

Bring him along she did, very unwisely, I might add, to today’s church picnic, and then erred further by leaving him plenty of opportunities to escape the confines of his basket and hightail it for the tallest tree in the churchyard. 

If it weren’t for any of those things, my feet would still be firmly on the ground as they should with my shoes’ soles kissing the earth. 

After a flurry of movement on the ground, Peeta is climbing the tree to dislodge me, aided by a leg up on his wagon. He is not such a good climber as I, he has admitted to me on more than one occasion. Still, he climbs, and it is not long before he is making his way across the branch towards me.

Once he reaches my side, I can see that all traces of his earlier irritation are gone, replaced by the glee in his eyes. I shall not be so lucky to go without some teasing remark, though. As I have said, I do not mind.

“What am I going to do with you, Ms. Everdeen?” Peeta asks, his eyes skating across my face. 

His eyes catch mine, steady and true, and warmth fills my chest. I am delighted to see him, so I cannot keep the smile from my lips as I reply. “I do not know. I would say that you should put me somewhere safe, but I do not know that such a place exists.” 

“Safe from you? I should have to agree.” Peeta holds my gaze. In just a moment, he should be able to get me loose. “Are you quite alright- are you in any pain?” he asks, his hand going to my hat.

I shake my head- well, as much as I can move while it is held in place by the sharp stick in my hair and hat, that is. “No, I am as comfortable as one can be while stuck.”

“Good.” He moves closer to get a good look at the situation involving my hair, hat, and the sharp stick. “Ms. Everdeen, may I ask you something while we are alone?” he asks after what is quite a prolonged silence for such a talkative man. I thought he was taking an inordinately long time.

“Certainly,” I answer, realizing that my heart is doing an odd thing inside my chest at his proximity. I feel a tug on my hair then, indicating to me that he is pulling the stick out of it. My eyes close when his hand goes to my head to keep the hat in place and dull the tugging sensation at my roots.

“Would you allow me to court you?” Peeta asks- his eyes on my hair. He seems apprehensive. “It’s just that I care for you a great deal. You must know that, Ms. Everdeen.”

“Court me- you wish to court me,” I answer dumbly, my brain a whirlwind of thoughts and emotions. 

Peeta wishes to court me- he wants to be my beau.

“Yes,” he repeats himself quickly, “I would very much like to if you will allow it.”

At that moment, I realize my head is free, so I look up at Peeta. The sun is behind him, and its glow illuminates his eyelashes, revealing their incredible length to me. 

What a funny thing that I have not noticed that until now. I have not been so aware of Peeta before now, but that has changed in an instant. He is a very wonderful man, both outwardly and in. 

And yes, I realize, I would like him to be my beau. Perhaps more? I think, sudden thoughts of living in his little stone cottage together filling my mind.

My breath catches in my throat at the loveliness his smile when I grin at him. His expression reinforces my newly realized knowledge that I care much for him. 

“I will allow it,” I answer, but quickly add on a disclaimer when he reaches to embrace me; I’ve spent enough time up in a tree for one day. “But only after we are safely on the ground.”

[niall-is-my-dream]

The Dirty Book - One Shot

2k one shot

Not entirely happy with it but I'm posting anyway. Let me know what you think.

Em xxx

This was the life you thought, it was like scene from a movie as you sat curled up at the end of the sofa opposite a roaring log fire. It was made even better by the view in front of you, and you didn't mean the beautiful snow covered mountains outside the window.

You were talking about a certain gorgeous Irishman who was topping up the fire with a few more logs. He was wearing shorts, despite the plummeting temperatures outside, the muscles in his back visible under his t-shirt as he moved. Averting your eyes before he turned around, you carried on reading your book.

Squeezing your thighs together to ease the aching throb that had started, you desperately tried to focus on the words on the page.

"Jessica was panting as she rode Garrett, sex was always fast and hard with him, just the way she liked it."

Same Jessica, same.

Niall took his seat at the other end of the sofa, putting some golf highlights on the tv. He stretched his leg out in front of him, a large ice pack rested across his right knee. His sock covered toes tucked themselves under your blanket, his feet tickling you against your thigh.

"Why did you choose to come skiing for your sisters birthday if you don't like it?" Niall asked smiling and taking a sip of his beer. The day time drinking had commenced, Niall's reasoning was that it was 5 o'clock somewhere.

"I came for the log fire, the hot tub and the wine!" You replied smiling back and raising your wine glass to him. "Why did you come when you have old man knees?!"

 "Shut it cheeky! I came to keep Willie company, he was a bit nervous as he doesn't know many of Vicky's friends boyfriends that well."

You had met Niall numerous times in the six months your sister Vicky had been dating Niall's cousin Willie. Pub trips, gigs and game nights at their shared apartment had occurred loads of times. He was easy going and you enjoyed his company. When he had decided to head up to the chalet after an hour or two on the slopes you had jumped at the chance to come back too,  skiing just wasn't your thing.

"How's the knee feeling?" You asked, leaning over and lifting up the ice pack to see if it was swollen.

"It's feeling ok. I think I'll put the ice pack back in the freezer actually."

He rose from the sofa and made his way into the kitchen, the heat you'd felt from the contact of his body was gone. A few seconds later he appeared with the bottle of wine and topped up your glass.

"Thanks lovely."

"So how's your dirty book?" He asked you as he sat back down, his body closer to you this time.

"My dirty book?!" You said raising your eyebrows.

"Yeah, your dirty book! Looked pretty racy when I peeked at it earlier."

"It's not dirty or racy, it's just a bit of erotica!" You replied smiling.

"Soft porn more like."

"Is Niall Horan admitting to knowing about soft porn?!"

"I'm a man, of course I know about it!"

"Women can enjoy it to you know." You said.

"Never said they couldn't! Are you ok with me sitting here or are you planning on having some private time while you read?!" He asked wiggling his eyebrows at you.

"Private time? God Niall!"

"Hey, it's natural, we all do it!"

 "Never said it wasn't." You said giving him a wink.

"So what's your book about then?" He asked, changing the subject slightly.

"Niall..... "

"What?! I'm interested."

"You really want to know?!"

"Yep, tell me about it." He smirked.

He is going to regret asking you, you couldn't wait to get him all worked up. 

"Well, it's about this 20something woman who's pretty unlucky in love until she meets this guy who seems to good to be true. He funny and charming and they end up going on a few dates. There's a bit of drama in it to."

 "Like Bridget Jones' diary?"

"I suppose so, but there's loads of amazing sex in it." You blurted out.

"Really?" He managed to choke out before clearing his throat.

You could hear Niall muttering under his breath, something along the lines of jesus and fucking hell. Knowing you'd got him all flustered and tongue tied was a good feeling.

"Yep, she has some amazing sexual encounters."

"Like what?" He mumbled, and you could see him blushing. 

"Well there's one scene I read yesterday where she's watching a movie with the guy and they're all snuggled up under a blanket, quite like this one actually."  You said as you looked down at the cover, running your hands across the fabric.

You looked over and saw Niall gulp. 

"And then the guy leans over," You whispered getting closer to him and licking your lips. "And cups her face and.......... kisses her deep and slow." 

"And...." He replied, your faces just inches away from each other.

"And then she climbs up into his lap........and grinds her core against him, rubbing back and forth against his erection. Lots of moaning and panting until they both cum in their underwear."

"Um....fuck." He replied clearing his throat again.

You bit down on your lower lip trying to hide the smile that you knew was creeping up on your face.

"You ok over there love?" You asked him, and you could see the blush creeping up his neck to his cheeks.

"Um yeah......I'm good. Hard, but good."

You raised your eyebrows at that information, wondering where to go next with the conversation. But the haze that had covered you both was broken when you heard your sister's voice as she entered the hallway.

"Here, you might need this." You said as you placed a cushion on his lap.

"You're going pay for that later." He whispered as everyone started coming into the living room.

"I hope so." You whispered back.

********

There was an instant connection. His hand creeping up under the hem of your top had ignited something in you both.

What has started out as a few glances and smiles across the table had ended with you pushed up against the wall of the bathroom of the pub.

Not exactly the most glamourous of places, but you needed to get your hands on him. The ache you felt for him had intensified now that you had him in your grasp.

His mouth explored your neck as his fingers found the lace of your bra. Fingers pinching gently across your nipples, working you into even more of a frenzy. It had been so long since you'd been with anyone and you felt like you were going to combust.

Bringing his face level with yours, he nudged your nose with his.  The blue of his eyes was bright and he was searching yours for something. Reassurance that you wanted this? You didn't know what he was looking for, but you moved closer and captured his lips with yours.

Your skirt was bunch up around your waist, his slick fingers rubbing you across the front of your knickers, which were already damp with your arousal. When he slid two of them beneath the lace and ran then across your clit, you moaned against his mouth.

"So fucking ready for me darlin." He mumbled against your lips not wanting to halt the kiss completely.

Fumbling with his belt and button, you pulled him hard from his jeans. Your thumb running over the tip as he groaned and pulled your bottom lip between his teeth.

His fingers slid from your warmth as he searched his pockets for a foil wrapper. Taking it from him, he looked up at you once again searching your eyes. Carefully tearing open the packet, you took the condom and held him in your hands. He leaned his forehead against yours as you moved back his foreskin and rolled the condom down his thick hard length.

With your knickers pushed to the side he lined himself up. His cock was sitting right at your entrance as he lifted you up and sank deep inside you. Both of you let out a low guttural moan as the ache you'd felt there was finally being relieved.

Your hands instantly grabbed his shoulders and you ran your fingers up and across the nape of his neck. His mouth found yours in a greedy kiss, the type where teeth knocked each other with urgency.

Bending his knees he fucked you slowly, gentle but precise thrusts and your body came alive. He was overwhelming your senses, you couldn't focus on the things he began whispering in your ear.

Your pants and moans were the only things that could be heard in the confines of the bathroom. The grip he had on your hips was tightening as he got closer to his release, his thrusts becoming sloppy and his voice husky and dripping with lust and heat.

The top of his pubic bone was rubbing against your clit and his cock was tapping against your g spot. Both of you were sweating as you came together, the release much needed.

You were silent for a a minute after, your breathing coming back down, unspoken words between you about the line you'd crossed. Your 'dirty book' as Niall called it had made you look at each other differently. Since your conversation earlier you hadn't thought of anything other than getting him inside you. 

It had been a long afternoon in the chalet with all the others, no opportunity to be alone. And you'd both tried. Niall had followed you into the kitchen a few times, offering to help you with dinner but Willie had come to help to. And when you'd all gone to get ready to go out for the evening, you opened your bedroom door to sneak to his, to find your sister there. 

But you'd finally got him alone now after sneaking away from the table in the busy pub.

Feeling him turn soft inside you, he dropped your legs down and slipped out. His fingers fumbled with with condom, tying it and disposing of it in the bin. When he passed you some tissue to clean yourself up you finally met his eyes. You could see him trying to hold back the enormous grin he had on his face.

"Happy with yourself?!" You asked him, your face matching his.

"Babe, I've had a semi for about 8 hours after our little conversation. I'm very happy with myself for finally getting my hands on you."

"Well it was kinda your own fault you got yourself so worked up."

Both of you were still smiling like idiots at each other as you adjusted your clothes.

"How was it my own fault?!" He said as he pressed his palm flat on the wall above your head. His face was mere inches from yours and you desperately wanted to kiss him again.

"You were the one sneaking a look at it and asking me about what happened in the story."

"Well, I was just taking an interest in what you were reading. You've had your head tucked away in that book a lot while we've been here."

"Trying to get my attention were you?!" You joked.

"I was actually." He admitted as his eyes moved from yours to hide his nerves.

Leaning forward you kissed him gently, nothing like the hard rough kisses from before. Moving your hand up to stroke across his neck and into his hair, he kissed you back his tongue finding yours.

"You've got my attention now." You whispered against his lips.

[thero0ks]

Complicated Friendships (Haytham or Shay)

This is going to be a three shot, with a choose your own boyfriend ending. :)

The pub was packed with bodies. It was a typical Friday night at the Stag Inn. Amber liquid swirled in her glass as she watched him from across the room, deep in conversation with a beautiful stranger. It was easier in her early twenties to brush her feelings aside. However, the more relationships she went through the less patient she got with his antics. The Irishman was still her best friend, so she tolerated it. Friday nights gave her the opportunity to get well acquainted with the various whiskies on the shelf. Shay usually hung around long enough to share a basket of fish and chips before he was off to flirt with the prettiest woman in the room. 

“You’ll get wrinkles looking like that.” An eloquent voice echoed from above her, snapping her attention to steel colored eyes. 

“Haytham. You’re off early.” She said sitting back in her seat. 

He slung his jacket over the back of his chair before taking a seat. “I decided to take your advice, and let off some steam.” He said setting the glass of brandy on the oak table top. “You can stare at him all night, or you could tell him.” Haytham stated bluntly, taking a pull from his drink. 

A scoff passed her lips, “as you can see, I’m not really his type.” She said tilting her glass towards the woman. Haytham’s gaze fluttered over the woman, and then back to her. 

“I’d choose you.” Haytham said with a simple shrug of his shoulders. A small blush crept up her cheeks as she tried to focus on anything but the Englishman next to her. “She’s beautiful, but she isn’t my type.” Haytham continued. (Y/N) could feel him staring at her, and she dared to meet his gaze. “I prefer a woman who doesn’t need to tell the whole room she’s beautiful. The woman that every man’s been looking at, but are too afraid to speak to.” 

She couldn’t recall when he leaned closer, but she could feel his breath on her neck and shivers raced down her spine. His sultry voice was like music to her ears, and he was the kind of man who radiated power. “Haytham!” An Irish lilt called from above the noise. (Y/N) straightened up caught in an intimate moment with their mutual friend. Haytham seemed content to stay close to her. His arm slung over the back of her chair, and she could feel the brush of his chest as he reached for his drink. “Shay.” Haytham acknowledged with a nod. 

“I didn’t think you’d be sticking around for long.” Haytham observed seeing the blonde across the room giggling with her friends. 

“Oh her?” Shay asked glancing over his shoulders. “I told her it was my birthday, and she’s a little eager to celebrate.” The dark haired man said with a laugh. 

“Well, before you leave us to...celebrate.” (Y/N) said trailing off reaching into her bag. “I have a present for you.” 

Shay beamed taking a seat at the table. “What is it?” He shook the wrapped box eyes alight with excitement and wonder. He tore at the paper opening the small box, “(Favorite band) tickets?!” Shay asked excitedly. “You’re the best.” He said giving her a hug, and a kiss on the cheek. 

“Happy birthday Shay.” She said softly, the feel of his lips tingling on her skin. 

Haytham studied his friend for a moment, "my birthday gift to you is that I won't fuck your best friend. I will however, walk her home." Haytham said downing the rest of his drink. 

Shay rubbed the back of his neck nervously, "thanks Haytham your a real mate." Shay's words were clipped at the end. 

"We can stay longer Shay…we just assumed you'd want to get to your...celebration with blondie." Her voice was soft touching the Irishman's arm. A comforting gesture he was used to from her. 

He shook his head, "I was about to head off too. Now I don’t have to worry about you getting home safely." Shay said offering her a smile. He gave her a quick hug before bounding across the bar to his pretty acquaintance. 

Haytham grabbed his jacket before offering her his arm. They walked down the street a comfortable silence settling between the pair.

(Y/N) studied the Englishman a moment trying to figure out how she ever overlooked him. She’d spent more time with Haytham then she had with Shay the past couple of years. The two seemed to get along quite well. "Haytham." She inquired, plucking up unknown courage. 

He stopped for a moment, "are you cold?" His voice was laced with concern and he automatically reached for his jacket buttons. 

"No, thank you." She said stopping him quickly, before continuing, "tomorrow isn't Shay's birthday."

"Quite intuitive aren't you?" He teased soliciting a playful smack from her. 

"I'm trying to be serious." She said a slight smile on her face. It was a crisp evening, and the street was mostly silent. "You told Shay you wouldn’t fuck me tonight, but what about tomorrow night?" She peeked up at him through her lashes too shy to look at him directly.

He stopped walking, bringing her to a halt as well. He gazed down at her studying her features she felt flustered, "I only meant..well at the bar I thought you were dropping hints, and I..I buggered it all up. I'm so oblivious sometime-" she was cut off abruptly by warm lips. 

It didn't take her long to get swept up in his earth shattering kiss. She'd kissed many men, but none had ever kissed her like that. One hand pressed into her lower back pulling her closer, and his other gripping the brick wall for support. Her hands clasping his jaw, standing tiptoed to be as close to him as possible. The rest of the world was drowned in his kiss. His tongue tasted of the brandy he'd drank at the bar. When they finally parted Haytham hung his head, eyes fluttered shut coming down from his high. "Since the moment I met you I wanted to kiss you like that." His voice came soft, and his eyes looked silver in the moonlight. 

"I should have seen it. I should have realized you'd been there all along." Her fingers gently stroked his face, her (e/c) pools lost in his hypnotizing gaze.

Haytham's lips quirked up, "as you so bluntly put it. You can be completely oblivious my dear." 

His arms wrapped around her, and she was enveloped in his sent of tea and brandy. "So is that a yes to tomorrow night?" 

"Let's start with dinner, and then see where the night takes us." He said pulling back to kiss her once more. 

She shuffled closer to him as they walked. The feel of her pressed against him made him feel light, and happy. When they finally arrived at her door, he was having second thoughts about leaving her. “Do you want to come in?” She asked unlocking her door. “You only promised Shay we wouldn’t hook up, but you never said anything about sleeping with me.” 

A small smile tugged at the corner of his lips. The soft hallway light from her half open door illuminated her hair, and giving her skin an iridescent glow. “Are you always this forward?” He inquired, taking a step closer to her. She called to him like a siren, and he couldn’t resist holding her in his arms once again.

“Only when I know what I want.” She said simply. 

“What is it that you want?” He inquired tilting his head, gazing down into her (e/c) pools.

“You..us..” She said looking down. The possibility of rejection was easier to come to terms with when she wasn’t getting lost in his piercing gaze. 

He tilted her chin up, he wanted her to see the sincerity in his eyes, “I’d love to come in.” 

*

**

He knew the way to her flat like the back of his hand. His head was pounding, but he knew (Y/N) would make a good brunch date. The thud, thud, thud of his hand on the cast iron fence echoed in his head as his feet carried him down the sidewalk. He grabbed the hide-a-key from a flower box in front of her living room window. The house was silent when he entered, which was odd. Usually she was up by eight am. He quickly kicked his shoes off heading up the staircase silent as a mouse. “(Y/N), let’s go get birthday brunch.” Shay’s voice echoed as he stepped into the room. 

She snapped awake by his voice. “Shay, you asshole.” She mumbled throwing a pillow at him. 

Shay then noticed the other occupant in the bed. “Haytham?” Shay asked his eyes widening at the sight of his friend laying next to his best friend. “What the hell!?!” Shay bellowed angrily. 

“Don’t worry, he kept his promise Shay.” (Y/N) said pushing past him to start some coffee. Shay hot on her heels. 

“What, so Haytham and you are an item now?” Shay asked scrunching his nose up. 

She shrugged, “you always complain about hating my boyfriends. You already like Haytham, so what’s the problem?��� She asked pouring coffee grounds into the french press. 

“I don’t want to think of my best friends fucking each other!” He said throwing his hands up in the air in frustration, as he started to pace the kitchen floor. 

“Oh grow up Shay.” She said with a roll of her eyes. “Every Friday night I watch you grope every attractive woman that walks through the door. Haytham and I could fuck in a booth in the pub and you wouldn’t even notice, so spare me the lecture.” 

Shay’s jaw clenched, “you think I don’t notice the way he leans over you all the time, or the way he looks at you like you hung the fucking moon?” 

(Y/N) froze turning to look at him, “you’re fucking jealous.” She leaned against the counter folding her arms across her chest. 

“I am not jealous!” Shay shot back stopping his pacing to look at her. 

“You’re the most insufferable man I’ve met.” She scoffed, shaking her head as she grabbed a mug out of the cabinets. 

In a flash Shay crossed the marble tiles to trap her between his arms, “How many times are you going to kiss the wrong person?” He asked dark eye’s heavily lidded as he gazed down at her. 

To be continued...

[my-fanfic-soul]

No Need to Regret: Chapter 27

From the Beginning

Being in London with Niall still felt like a dream. That first night had started the process of my emotional tank refilling. I hadn’t realized just how empty it had become.  I was so drained but everything about being here was helping me recover.

We had all walked down to a local fish and chip shop for dinner, Olivia’s hand laced through mine and Bethany chattering about what she knew about British history through what she had learned in school. Niall had looked so at ease, his hand occasionally reaching up to brush against my lower back. Every time we went to cross a street, his hand went up almost protectively, and it wasn’t just for me. He wouldn’t let the kids go until he was certain the cars were going to stop or pass us by.

At the shop, he had belly laughed when Olivia had made the realization that chips were french fries, not potato chips and he had bantered playfully with Ethan over where the appropriate place to put ketchup on fries was. He was good natured in his loss when the shop owner took Ethan’s side, even as Ethan and Olivia teased him mercilessly.

On the way back to his flat, though, was when my heart had really started to feel the effect of what this trip would do for me. The sun had gone down and the temperatures had dropped. My siblings weren’t used to it being cold in March and Beth was wearing a thin jacket. When she shivered, Niall didn’t even seem to think about it before he was slipping out of his own coat and handing it over to my little sister. We were still fifteen minutes from his house and he didn’t complain once about being cold. He didn’t make a comment about her needing to remember to bring a better one next time.

How did I manage to find someone like him?

We have fallen into a comfortable schedule for while we’re here. Niall wakes up and goes down to the gym while I shower and get dressed. By the time he gets back, I’ve woken up the kids and started the process of getting everyone fed and getting ready for the day. While he has work commitments in the morning, my siblings and I head out to see some of the more touristy parts of London.

The afternoons are spent with Niall. On Saturday he had taken us to a museum, Sunday we relaxed in a park while he passed a soccer ball back and forth with Ethan and Olivia, Monday we had all gone to see a movie together, and Tuesday we took a trip to Windsor. In the evenings we would make dinner in his kitchen and he would do things like play video games with Ethan or teach all of us how to play poker, minus the money part of it. It was easy to focus on the good moments and look past the moments where Ethan whined because we were going somewhere he didn’t care about, Olivia whined about her feet hurting, or Bethany whined because the other two weren’t getting in trouble for whining.

There were so many more good moments than bad.

It was easy for my mind to wander, to imagine this as life all the time. The practical part of me knew it wasn’t possible, the kids were normally with dad and Niall is gone so often-- this is more of a tease than anything else. But the bittersweet feeling of knowing that there was a potential out there in the world for my younger siblings to know a good life, a life full of love and attention, was a near constant presence.

Our schedule on Wednesday was completely thrown off from the moment I woke up, though. Instead of waking up to Niall slipping out the door of his bedroom in his workout clothes, I woke up to fingers tracing down my neck and a gorgeous, blue eyed Irishman staring at me lovingly.

“Happy birthday, Kendra,” he whispered softly before peppering my cheeks, forehead, and finally lips in soft kisses.

I closed my eyes again and stretched, groggy and surprised by the greeting but pleased. “Thank you,” I murmured, my voice deep with sleep as I caught his lips with mine. He grinned, his hand sliding from my neck, down my shoulder and my side to rest at my hip. He squeezed gently and swallowed the soft moan that escaped my lips. As wonderful as it was having my family here getting to truly know Niall, I was trying to calculate how long we had before they woke up if we stayed quiet.

“None of that,” he whispered. “The kids are already awake and making breakfast.”

Every trace of tiredness evaporated immediately as I opened my eyes to give him an exasperated look and started to sit up, pushing the blankets off of me as I went. “You left them alone in the kitchen? Bethany burns cereal!”

A swift kiss put a halt to my attempts to get up. “Don’t worry so much, they’re fine. I’m doing the hard part; they’re just washing fruit and getting all the ingredients together. They love you, they wanted to do something special for you.”

“As much as I’m enjoying the kissing--” another one was planted on my lips for the compliment, “Don’t you think you should get back in there before one of them finds their ambition and burns this entire flat to a crisp?”

“I just wanted to make sure you were awake and let you know that you need to go ahead and shower. I’ve got a busy day planned for you, birthday girl.”

I sat up at that. “Don’t you have work this morning?”

His mischievous grin made my insides melt. “I rearranged some things.”

My brain was waking up now and making better sense of what he was saying. “Wait. You’re telling me you woke them up this morning, early, and they all just cheerfully went to make my breakfast?”

“No, they knew the plan.”

“When did you have a chance to plan this with three kids?”

He kissed me gently as he grabbed my hands and pulled me out of bed. “Now, darling. A man should never share his secrets. Go shower. Take all the time you need to do your hair. I’ve got breakfast and the kids covered and a full day of exploring London with you.”

“What are you…”

“Go.”

I wanted all of the details, but the draw of the shower was stronger. One thing I had learned to appreciate about Niall’s flat was his water pressure. It was a thing of true beauty and I stood using all of his hot water for as long as I could stand it, washing and conditioning my hair. Leisurely stealing his expensive soap. Allowing the stream of water to massage out the pleasant exhaustion Niall assured me was normal for a vacation.

I’d sleep on a thin mattress full of nothing but feathers if it meant I got to use that shower every day.

There was a crashing sound from the kitchen as I finally stepped out and I almost rushed to see what had broken but paused at the sound of deep laughter. He was spoiling me in ways I never could have imagined. It was a relief to be able to pick up a hair dryer and take time brushing out my hair knowing there was another adult who had it handled.

When I finally joined them there was flour all over the counters, stray raspberries scattered across the floor, and four grinning faces greeting me. “Happy birthday!” they chorused together before my younger siblings attacked me with hugs.

“No cake,” Niall said, holding out a plate in front of him. “But we made you waffles with all of your favorite toppings.” Sure enough, there were thick waffles with syrup, whipped cream, chocolate syrup, and raspberries on top-- completed with a single candle.

“I told him that if we put all 21 candles on it, we might set off the fire alarm,” Ethan teased. I pushed his head playfully and he grinned again.

Even with Niall leading them, there still managed to be six different keys between the four of them for singing happy birthday to me, and they ended in three different places, but I couldn’t get the smile off my face. It was by far the best birthday I’d ever had and it was only the morning. Behind the residual smoke from my single candle being blown out, Niall’s glowing face promised a day that I’d never forget.

---

And how could I? He had planned everything out perfectly with my interests in mind. He remembered conversations I would have never thought to hold onto. He thought of everything and expected no work on my part from beginning to end.

Breakfast was homemade waffles made to perfection with scrambled eggs and sausages that I watched Ethan scarf down as fast as he could. He participated in a video chat with each of my siblings still in the States so they could all wish me a happy birthday, as well. He took charge of cleaning up and directing the kids on what to do to streamline everything. Once he and the kids were dressed, he ushered us out the door and down to the car.

“Where are we going?” Ethan asked as he crawled into the back with his sisters.

Niall shook his head, “Does no one in this family enjoy a good surprise?”

“No,” all three kids chorused together.

“Get used to it.”

Traffic was as hectic as ever but we eventually made it to a parking garage in London near all the tourist attractions. “Won’t you be recognized?” I asked nervously as we all piled out of the car. Niall pulled on a ball cap and gestured to his nondescript clothing. “I really hate to break it to you, but you’re no less gorgeous dressed like a frat boy than you are when you’re standing on a stage in skinny jeans.”

Ethan wrinkled his nose. “Ew.”

“As long as we’re moving, I should be fine.”

We walked for nearly ten minutes, keeping the kids close to us, Niall’s hand firmly gripping both mine and Olivia’s. Seeing him so protective of all of us did things to me. When I saw where we were headed, I couldn’t help the smile that was starting to hurt after half a week of it being nearly constant.

“The Tower of London?” I asked and he nodded. It had already been on our agenda for today and Niall had remembered, even though I hadn’t been detailing our plans to him much before the day of. I had mentioned it a few weeks ago, in passing, that it was the plan for the morning of my birthday.

He wasn’t playing around, either. We were met near the start of the line by a woman who introduced herself as our guide. He had arranged a privately guided tour for all five of us, allowing plenty of time for me to absorb every detail that I wanted.

And we did. Between the four Americans, we kept her on her toes asking questions and looking at everything we could. Niall kept track of Livy so I wouldn’t have to worry constantly about where she was. Ethan and Bethany did their part to not wander too far away and only squabbled a little, which I still had to manage but I couldn’t think of a better way to spend my morning.

When we were done, we wandered down the street towards a sandwich shop and I got my next surprise in the form of a familiar face. “Mark!” He wrapped me up in a friendly hug with a happy birthday. “I thought you’d be spending time with your family, not slumming it in London on your break.”

“My family’s in the city while I’m here. Don’t worry about me.” Niall introduced him to my younger siblings and Mark joined us in the shop for lunch.

When we were done, Mark took the kids back up to the counter to buy sweets and Niall turned to me with nervousness in his eyes for the first time this trip. “Mark’s actually here for a reason. I want your trip to be special and today to be all about you. I want the rest of the day to be just you and me.”

My heart squeezed in my chest. I wanted that, too, but… “Niall, the kids. We can’t just leave them to their own devices, even at the flat. It’s not right.”

“I know, I thought about that. That’s why Mark’s here. If you’re comfortable with it, Mark has agreed to take the kids for the rest of the day. I figured you’d be happier if it was someone you knew and trusted.”

“But, his time with his family…”

“They have their own stuff today.”

I sigh, wanting so desperately to give in because I want it, too. Time with just Niall outside the moments we stole before we fall asleep at night seemed like a dream. When they came back to the table, I laid it out on the table for them. “Are y’all comfortable spending the rest of the day with Mark?”

Ethan, predictably, eagerly agreed. He was convinced the man was more than he let on and had been asking about exercise in ways that implied he believed Mark had killed a man. Nothing was cooler to a twelve year old boy. Bethany nodded her own agreement, seeming unconcerned with the plan. “You and Niall need some time to do whatever it is adults do in this city.”

Livy was the only hold out. She glanced nervously between me and Mark. Abandonment issues were a real and constant thing with her these days and I couldn’t blame her. If she said no, I’d tell Niall we needed to reevaluate the plans. But she quietly asked, “Are you coming back tonight?”

“Yes,” Niall assured her. “And if you’re asleep before we get back, I’ll make sure she goes and wakes you up long enough to know she’s home.”

She chewed the inside of her lip and asked, “Will Bethany be there all day?”

“Absolutely,” I tell her, wanting to touch her, reassure her. It’s hard to give her the space she needs to make decisions on her own in an attempt to prevent any more codependency issues. My first instinct is to make everything better for her and it’s hard to let that go.

Finally, she nodded. “I’ll go with Mark.”

It was huge for her, but I couldn’t make a big deal about it without making her take another three steps back so I settled for smiling at her and assuring her that Mark was very nice and that I knew him well from his time in Texas and when I had visited the band.

It’s still hard watching them walk away and back towards Niall’s car, which he gave Mark the keys for. “I’ve got a service picking us up tonight,” he explained when I questioned it. “Mark hasn’t got a car big enough for all four of them.”

I set my shoulders and smiled up at him. “So, what’s on the plans for an adult’s afternoon?”

He wrapped an arm around my shoulders and steered me down the street. “We’re gonna take a little stroll before our next tour.”

I glanced up at him, taking in his relaxed features. He was happy, content. Well rested even though I knew tour was exhausting for all of them already, and this had only been the first leg. “I bet it’s boring playing tourist in a city you already know so well.”

“I’d play tourist in Mullingar if it meant I got to spend the day with you,” he replied easily. “Besides, I don’t get many opportunities to explore London like this. It’s nice to be a tourist, again.”

“You do nothing but travel.”

“Ken, you’ve been with me on tour before. There aren’t many opportunities to get out and see the sights. Last year they had to put us in a bread van just to get us out of a hotel to go see the Christ the Redeemer statue in Brazil. It doesn’t exactly allow for taking pictures in front of pretty buildings.”

We walked quietly while I wrapped my head around having to sit in a delivery van in order to leave my hotel. Things had been hectic when I had visited him on tour, but it had never been that bad. “How is it that you have to hide to leave a hotel, but you can walk through London without any problems? Why do we need two security guards to go around New York, but I haven’t even seen Howie since we got here?”

Niall kicked a coffee cup out of our way, keeping his head down as we moved. “It’s different when we’re supposed to be somewhere. When they can anticipate us leaving an airport or showing up to a venue, that’s when it’s the worst. And some countries have fewer restrictions on what the paps are allowed to do and that makes it inherently more dangerous. When we’re off, it’s easier to blend in.”

I looked around, taking in the blend of modern buildings with older ones mixed in, like they had forgotten them when they were cleaning the streets. It spoke to the nature of London as a whole, tradition laced into a fast paced, modern world. “Do you ever wish you could go back and do the normal tourist thing? Just walk down the street, taking pictures of obscure trellises without worrying about ending up in next week’s magazine print?”

“More often than you know.”

We rounded a corner and Niall led me up to a modern building. “What are we doing here?” I asked skeptically. Modern anything was more his taste than mine and so far the entire day had been geared towards my interests and likes. I was trying to not feel selfish, but this had been his idea of a birthday gift for me.

“Just trust me,” he urged me, gave me a soft kiss, and pushed the doors open for me.

 Niall:

If I could spend every day watching the way Keni’s eyes light up in the face of historical information, I’d die the happiest man on Earth.

When I led her down to the basement, she’d given me a funny look and said, “You do realize you’re famous, right? People are going to know it was you if you kill me in a basement.”

“If I was going to kill you, don’t you think I would have done it back in the woods in Texas? Just trust me.” Fact was, I was nervous. This hadn’t been on her list of things she wanted to do while she was here. Nothing about the rest of our day was something she had wanted to do, but I was ready to shit myself with anxious hope that she’d love it anyway.

Either I knew her, or I didn’t, but I was sure she’d love her surprise.

The moment she saw where I’d brought her, she was speechless and I knew I’d been right. It filled me with a certain amount of pride when she looked at me with glowing eyes. “I didn’t even know this was here,” she told me, gesturing at the sign declaring that it was the Billingsgate Roman House & Baths remains.

My girl likes old things, and I’m here to provide.

“I didn’t either until I started planning for your birthday,” I confess. “I know it’s not a castle, but I thought you’d enjoy it, nonetheless.”

“It’s perfect.”

She nearly hugged our guide when she learned that taking photos wasn’t prohibited inside, as long as she didn’t use flash. But best of all was the soft “Oh!” she uttered and the wonder that filled her eyes as she looked at the 2,000 year old remains for the first time. It just looked like a collection of dirt and rubble to me, but I would have bought her an entire excavation site just to see that look on her face for one minute longer.

Drugs had nothing on the way she made me feel.

It wasn’t that I found the tour to be boring, because it really was full of information on London when the Roman’s still had control here and the way the bath house worked, but I didn’t find it interesting in the way Keni did. She asked questions constantly, her eyes taking in details that I would have ignored completely. She asked questions about social structure that even with a textbook in front of me, I wouldn’t have thought to ask.

Watching her mind work was as attractive as watching her clothes come off.

She was beside herself with giddiness an hour later when we made our way back up to ground level. “I can’t believe that it was in such good condition! Just… there. Right below London. It’s amazing! Who could even imagine?”

She could, if she gave herself enough credit. The thought made me smile as I looked at her fondly. “Well, we’re not done here, yet. Do you see that church door?” I ask, pointing up a walking path. Her lips purse as she nods. “Walk up that way.”

For a girl who had just joked about me killing her in a basement, she was awfully trusting. She didn’t even hesitate as she walked up towards what looked like a church building. I kept close enough that I could hear her gasp when she got her first glimpse at the church ruins. “Oh, they’re magnificent!” she breathed. “I would have never thought to look back here. And with all those business offices all over the place…”

“I know. It’s an oasis. Keep walking, there’s a gate up here.”

“We can go in?!”

I grinned at her and her face positively glowed with light as she rushed up the path. I followed behind her, watching her explore among the ruins and the ivy. “The church was ancient,” I told her as her fingers brushed along a window frame. “I don’t know much about the history, but it was bombed during the Blitz. The church of England made the decision not to rebuild it and at some point, they decided to turn it into a public garden.”

“Our government would have just torn it down.”

I chuckled, watching as she nearly tripped over a paving stone as she stared up at a higher window. “Don’t start thinking too highly of the British. There was plenty of that, too. But these walls have stood for a thousand years, why tear them down now?”

But she wasn’t paying attention anymore, her focus was on the ruins surrounding us.

She was too beautiful for words and I couldn’t help myself. While she was distracted wandering around, I pulled my phone out of my pocket and started taking pictures of her. The wonder in her eyes. The way her hair blew lightly in the wind. Framed in doorways. Through what was left of a window. I could see her mind working, imagining what it had looked like. How the stain glass would have looked. The way people would have walked through the doors for centuries, looking for faith in faithless times.

I had pieced together Keni’s love of history bit by bit over time, through conversations and other pieces of her life that I knew about. Her working in a museum and her fascination with Greek Mythology had been the most obvious, but there had been more. When we talked, she always had random bits of trivia for a lot of the places I was traveling to. She watched documentaries fairly often on Netflix and the majority were history related. She had never met a museum she didn’t love and when she was planning this trip, she had been the most excited for the tours of all of the historic places in the area.

It wasn’t hard, if you were paying attention.

I’m glad that I was because I can tell how much she’s loving this. I was worried that I was trying to shove too much into one day, but we needed this. She needed this; being able to enjoy the history of a place without worrying about how bored Ethan was or if Liv had wandered off or if Bethany was starting to get hangry.

We’re both going to be exhausted but it’s worth it to experience what it would be like if we could travel together.

Keni was reluctant to leave, but I had another surprise up my sleeve, more that I thought she needed to see. More that I wanted to show her. 

 “You really love this sort of thing, don’t you? History and all of that.” We were plodding our way down a sidewalk, hand in hand, towards the street. She had just trailed off from talking about what the buildings that were still standing had seen.

“History, culture, how people live and used to live… It’s always been a passion of mine. Getting that job in the museum was like a dream come true. Where are we going, now?”

I gently nudged her and pulled her back against my side. “Have I supplied any clues so far today?”

“No.”

“And did you like it all, anyway?”

“Please? A clue?”

I shook my head and gestured to the car with a business emblem on a sticker in the windshield pulling up onto the side street. “We’re getting in this car.” She turned wide eyes to me and I chuckled. “It’s a car service. They’re supposed to be picking us up, Keni.”

“I think you’re trying to get me killed.”

Opening the door for her, I grinned. “That’s not a very good birthday present, is it?”

The glare she gave me before she slid into the backseat of the car held no heat and yet it sent heated desire through me. I was starting to think that she could do no wrong. There was nothing about her or the things she did that made me want to duck and run. If I wasn’t so sure that where we were going next was going to be the best part of her day, I’d skip straight to the end of our day where I could finally get her alone after everyone went to bed.

That peaceful look on her face as she holds my hand across the middle seat and gazes out the window at the buildings passing by… I’d sell everything I own to have this moment forever. It always feels so right but so surreal to be in her space. To breathe in the scent of my soap on her skin as she brushed past me. To be able to reach out and touch her whenever I wanted.

 Kendra:

The car turned onto a small street off Piccadilly and pulled to a stop. “A bookstore?” I asked, looking at the display window of a shop with a sign declaring that they sell rare books and prints, interest and confusion swirling around in my mind.

“Antique books, to be precise,” Niall said, his face neutral but a smug look in his eyes. “Prints, too. I thought you might want to look around for Noah. And before you get fussy about how expensive something is, it’s a gift to him from me, since he couldn’t make it on the trip with the rest of ya.”

Noah’s art. He always remembered Noah’s art.

Stepping through the doors was like walking into a warm embrace. It was like a library had been condensed and intensified. All around us were cases full of books, the familiar musty smell overpowering and riddled with age. They weren’t anything I had ever considered for myself-- why buy books that were so old you couldn’t even read them for pleasure? I found myself drawn to the nearest case, however. From surprisingly vibrant covers with finely embedded gold lettering to thick leather cracked with age, long life marked by discoloration.

“I hoped you’d like it,” Niall said, his hand brushing lightly across my lower back. “Take your time, Ken.”

Everywhere I looked there was something new drawing my attention. The way covers were painted. The detailing on leather bindings. I was touched that Niall had not only remembered my love of history and books but found a way to combine them in a way I hadn’t expected. “How did you guess I would enjoy this?” I asked as I took in the details on a book called Bill the Minder, light green with gorgeous gold detailing.

He shrugged like it was the most obvious thing in the world. “I’ve been in a library with you, Ken. And you always have a book on you when you leave the house. Too many sometimes, but that’s an old argument.” We both smirked at the memory of us arguing about how many books it took for me to write a paper.

After looking at all of the bookshelves, I went to look at the prints. I won’t lie, it’s not really something I’m overly interested in but I knew Noah would be all over it. He paints and draws, but he’s interested in every art medium there is. In the end, I find a vintage Olympic poster from the 1972 Olympics in Munich and a piece entitled “Gentleman Commoner & Nobleman, Pro Proctor” with three men wearing what looked to be graduation regalia from some time around the Victorian era, if I had to guess. It wasn’t my major area of interest when it came to history but it fits with Noah’s high school graduation coming up and I knew he’d appreciate it.

I had thought to argue with Niall about the prices until he gave me a look that promised his full stubborn rebuttal. I left well enough alone. In the end, it wouldn’t be nearly as much as buying Noah a ticket here and back would have been.

When we made our way up to the counter, I noticed a book sitting casually on its surface. I perked up instantly as I saw the black lettering embossed on the deep red cover: A Collection of Greek Mythology. There was an image that was taken from a Greek vase depicting a battle in the same black under the title and my fingers itched to pick it up.

“You can look through it, if you’d like,” the man standing behind the counter offered as he started on working up our order. I hesitated, not wanting to damage something that probably cost a fortune. In the end, curiosity got the best of me.

The top edge of the spine and the corners were frayed in a way I was familiar with-- the sign of a frequently used book. When I gently opened the cover, I discovered a list of names, previous owners I’m sure, in fuzzy pencil markings. The text was in clunkier letters than what you’d see now, and the spacing was different. Like it had been done on a typewriter. All of the most popular Greek myths were present, with pictures depicting key scenes at the beginning of each story. Occasionally, written in the margins were small notes or lines would be underlined. It was like peeking into someone’s textbook notes.

“How old is this?” I found myself asking the man who had been helping us.

He typed something into his computer and said, “The item intake says this edition was published in 1852.”

I would have ripped my hands away from it if they hadn’t been supporting the front cover and the pages I’d already turned. It wasn’t as old as some of the other books in the shop, I’m sure, but it was the oldest thing I’d touched in my life besides maybe a rock or a building.

I shut it gently and sighed.

“Do you like it?” Niall asked, leaning against the counter as he watched the man carefully pack away Noah’s gifts.

Nodding, I pulled my hands away from the cover. Every history documentary I’d ever seen had antique pieces handled with gloves. While this book wasn’t that old, I felt weird leaving the oil from my skin all over it. “I love it.”

“Good. Cause it’s yours.”

I stared at him blankly, my mind rushing to catch up. “Niall, you can’t. It’s too…”

Warm, thick fingers reach out and wrap around mine. “Don’t start in on the price again. It’s your birthday, Keni and I know how much you love Greek mythology. I already bought it.”

Today had already had too many surprises and my brain was struggling to keep up. “You already…”

His eyes were dancing. He knew he’d done well. “That book right there is the real reason we came, I needed to pick it up for you. I scoured every rare book shop in London looking for a book on Greek mythology for you. Had to use the online catalogues since I’ve been out of the country and you wouldn’t believe how hard it is finding one.”

My hand spasmed in his, gripping his fingers tighter as I looked at the book laying in front of me. “Most guys get a girl a bear or a cheap necklace for her first birthday after they start dating. You’re setting the bar way too high, Irish.”

His smile matched the delight in his eyes. “I’m planning on outdoing this birthday for many years to come.”

I stepped into his chest, wrapping my arms around him as the smell of him mixed with the smell of books in my senses. “It’s perfect. I don’t think you’re going to be able to top this one.”

“We’re still not done.”

----

Not being done included walking around looking at all of the shops before taking me to dinner at a nice French restaurant. I felt ridiculously underdressed but Niall either didn’t notice our relaxed attire or simply didn’t care. His attention was solely on me.

He flipped back to the wine selections and pointed at them. “I know you could drink here legally yesterday but it still seems momentous.”

I wasn’t even sure what to get, but our waiter was more than enthusiastic about helping me decide based on what I had enjoyed in my limited experience and what I was ordering to eat. Once he was gone, I asked Niall, “What did you do for your 21st birthday?” I thought about it for a minute and then corrected myself, “Probably what you do for all your birthdays. I forget that it’s not that magical number in most countries.”

Niall chuckled and shook his head. “We made a pretty big deal of it, alright. We had a concert day of, but I went to Vegas as soon as I could, since I could finally have the full experience. Don’t remember much of it, to be honest.”

“How very rockstar of you,” I tease. “Six months later and you’re having to be home in time to put a 7 year old to bed. My, how the mighty have fallen.”

Blue eyes lock onto mine. “There’s nowhere else I’d rather be, Ken.”

Say what you want about the man, but Niall knows exactly where to get good food. The waitstaff are all attentive and in no time at all, I have a steaming plate of food right in front of me. He waited until I had a mouth full of fish before asking, “If you like history and anthropology so much, why aren’t you studying them?”

I nearly choke and take a few moments to chew properly and get my mind in order. “I have taken courses for them.”

“You know what I mean, Ken.”

I spin my fork around on my plate, half wondering if there’s someone with impeccable manners watching me and about to have a stroke. “I love them, but it’s not easy to make a career out of them. The financial risk is too great, especially with me helping out so much with the kids. I need something that has better odds of me finding a well-paying job.”

“Even if you’re not passionate about it?”

Thumbing the stem on my wine glass, I mulled over how to respond. “It’s not like I don’t care about helping people, it’s just not… my biggest interest. I don’t think there’s any harm in allowing your passion to just be a hobby in the name of doing what’s best for you and your family.”

“If you could have any job in the world, what would it be? Don’t worry about risks or your siblings for just a few minutes. What would it be?”

“I’d love to work in a history museum as an archivist or curator. Or take on a research position about ancient civilizations. Artifact research. It doesn’t really matter, as long as culture and history are involved.”

“So, you want to be Indiana Jones?”

I scrunched up my nose at him. “Would you hate me if I told you that I’ve never actually seen those movies?”

He stared at me, his jaw hanging slightly loose. “You’ve been living under a rock. Hurry up and finish your food. We’re going to go pick up cupcakes and get back to my place to fix that. Tonight.”

It wasn’t Vegas, but I couldn’t imagine a better day that he could have planned for me.

Master List

Chapter 28

[leah-halliwell92]

Sex, Love & Rock ‘n’ Roll

Request by @ohmybribri​: So you and Brian are FWB and you hook up after a concert in the bathroom. He pins you up against the wall, lifts your skirt and had his way with you... 🤤🤤🤤🤤

Another day, another concert. That’s how it had been since you’d joined the boys on the second leg of there American tour. According to Freddie, Brian had been a bit of a pain since leaving home because all he would talk about was you. You doubted that very much laughing off as he walked you to the cab he came in to pick you up. 

You expected for the rest of the boys to be there but was reassured by Fred that they were at the hotel catching up on much needed sleep. That and trying to keep Brian busy considering you are his birthday surprise from Fred, and the boys, to him. 

“I swear on my mum (Y/N) he’s been driving all of us mad!” Fred said being as physically emphatic as he could in the cramped space of the cab stating that, “He really needs to shut up about his girl if he’s so set on not telling her his feelings.”

You refrained from rolling your eyes at that and focused on the speeding scenery. There’s no way Brian sees you that way...they way you see him. 

You met Brian at Uni he needed a hand understanding Shakespeare. You were working on getting your major in child psychology and a double minor in art and English lit. Through Brian you met the rest of the band and was soon part of their rag-tag family which suited you just fine, more than fine even. You and Brian made great friends and soon found the effort they needed to put into just getting laid to be too great to spend outside of studying and raising a band in Brian’s case. This led to Roger jokingly/drunkenly suggesting you and Bri should, ‘fuck for the sake of fucking’.

At first you’d laughed it off but then found that it wasn’t such a bad idea. You’d been surprised to find Brian at your dorm door giving your silent self-agreement to the friends with benefits idea a try and the rest as they say is history. 

That had been close to three years, give or take, ago. The agreement had just been for sex, we could if we liked date or go on dates and at first it worked great on both sides. He seemed more confident in himself if still a little shy but better at talking to other ladies. You hadn’t realized you’d fallen for him until you saw him at the school’s cafeteria talking to Laura Clark. Your ex-best friend who thought she deserved the world on a gold and pearl studded platter. 

You’d brushed it off at first but that night when he came to you the sex didn't feel like sex per say. It was sex but it felt different...

He was gentler when he caressed you and nibbled at your neck. He’d take his time getting you to completion and sometimes would forgo finishing himself in exchange for giving you pleasure when he knew you’d had a trying day. 

And in turn, you stopped leaving at the crack of dawn. Some of your things made their way into his room, your toothbrush next to his in the bathroom and you’d often wake up to find him somehow tucked under your chin his hair effectively waking you up. That morning had been the morning you realized how good you’d be as a couple. That was the morning you also realized he couldn’t feel the same way...

“We’re here!” You heard Freddie say. 

You smiled at him and nearly choked on spit when you saw Prenter standing outside what you thought is the boys’ room smoking. You didn't like him one bit and Freddie knew that. You were more than a little close to asking Miami if you could take Paul’s place as the band’s PA just to get rid of the leech. 

Anyway...You nodded politely at the Irishman and let Fred walk you into the first of the shared double-rooms to find Deaky downing what looked like crap hotel coffee. 

His tired eyes sparkled and you soon found yourself enveloped in the bassist’s arms. 

“Finally,” he said as he kissed your forehead.

You resisted the urge to roll your eyes again knowing where that was coming from and dove into your bag pulling out a gift meant for him from Veronica. 

Deaky resembled a puppy at the sight of the parcel and went to open it in an out fo the way corner of the room.

It was no surprise to find Roger face down on the bed passed out as you thought with a laugh, ‘play my little drummer boy play.’

You shook your head and went into the room Deaky nodded at you leaving Freddie with him. 

You couldn’t help the fond smile that graced your face at the sight of Brian face down and sprawled all over his bed hugging the second pillow to himself. You put your stuff down and stripped down to your light tank and underwear before closing the door. The boys had seen you in your undies before so you weren’t bothered to be seen by them, they’re brothers after all.

That done, you went to the empty side of the bed. You noticed it’s the side you normally slept on back home and grinned tenderly before you began the process sliding under the blanket and trade places with the pillow. You must have been more tired than you thought as the familiarity and warmth of Brian’s arms surrounded you when he subconsciously sought out the now present source of warmth. 

You threw your leg over his thin hips pulling his body close to yours and placing his head under your chin. You hummed and fell asleep quickly as your body and mind recognized that they were finally home. 

You came to to the feeling of gentle calloused fingers caressing your cheek. You kept your eyes closed as Brian ran his fingers over you tenderly before slipping them under the waistband of your underwear. 

You moaned at the feel of his middle finger drawing circles around then over your clit. 

“Good evening (Y/N),” he said as he repeated the hand movement over and over until you gasped and moaned as your completion washed over you. 

Brian looked pleased with himself at having made you cum so quickly but that changed into something softer as he gazed at you as you caught your breath. 

‘To hell with it,’ you thought throwing in the towel, ‘If this is as close as I’m going to get so be it.’

You snuggled into him humming happily and said, “Happy Birthday Bri.”

You felt more than heard him chuckle.

“What?” You asked when you pulled away to look up at him. 

“Thanks dear but that wasn’t the birthday present I was expecting,” he said with a shrug, “Don’t get me wrong, having you here is an amazing unexpected surprise.”

You were about to kick him off the bed in anger when he continued, “There’s this one thing I’ve always wanted to do...”

You listened to what he wanted his present to be and nearly jumped out of bed in glee, tonight’s concert was going to be good.

That night you stood back stage singing along with everyone else as they played. You cheered extra loud when Brian did his solos loving every time he did his thing with his Red Special. For a moment you forgot you were just friends who fucked and let the thought of being his run through your head. 

You cried when they performed “Love of my Life” and applauded when they song ended. 

“He’ll find someone better you know,” you heard Paul say as he took a drag from his cigarette. 

You ignored him focusing on the boys. 

“You're just his friend,” he pressed, “What will you do when he falls for someone? Someone better than a nobody from his hometown.”

That hit you hard, he was right after all but that didn’t make it hurt any less.

You saw him smirk as he saw your face fall. 

You stood straight as a smirk appeared on your face. 

“What’s with the smile?” He asks a bit taken aback with the sudden change of emotion. 

“Fred and I talked on our way to the hotel today,” you said, unbeknownst to you and Paul the concert had finished and the boys were there looking as well as listening to what you were saying, “He said he wants me to the band’s personal assistant.”

He scoffed taking a nervously long drag from his cigarette, “Meaning?”

You smirked and said, “Your fired.”

He coughed at that and said, “You can’t do that!”

“Oh yes she can darling,” Freddie said surprising the both of you.

“Fred,” Paul began. 

“Goodbye Paul,” he said and made his way to the nearest telephone to call Miami and inform him of the sudden change. 

You’d seen the looks of relief and happiness on Roger and Deaky’s faces but before you could say anything else Brian was dragging you away from back stage giving the nearest roady his guitar before pulling you into the nearest empty bathroom and locking the door before laying a hard kiss on your lips. 

Brian reached down and pulled you up to wrap your legs around his waist lifting your skirt up as he continued on kissing you. 

You gasped and moaned as he ran his tongue over hour bottom lip asking for permission. You gladly opened your mouth to him and moaned at the sudden chill that met your crotch as he tore away your underwear. 

He pulled away to work his pants open. 

“Brian–” you began but was interrupted as a moan broke out of you when he entered you. 

The air was filled with moans and grunts as you shifted your hips meeting his pace with every thrust. 

You were close now, so close to cumming when you said, “I love you...make me yours.”

Brian’s eyes lit up at this and he stilled.

“You mean it?” He asked eyes alight with wonder.

“Yes,” you say taking a leap of faith, “I love you Brian Harold May.”

He smiled and his kiss went from hurried and hungry to love filled and tender. 

“Happy birthday to me indeed,” he said with a smirk and made to finish when you heard banging at the door.

“Get a move on lovebirds we want to go eat and sleep!” Roger yelled. 

“Bugger off!” Brian yelled before reluctantly helping you down. 

“Should do as he says,” you say as you fix your skirt, “he won’t leave us alone otherwise.”

He nodded looking every bit a lost puppy. 

“I can warn Deaky and Fred to be out for bit,” you say with a playful smirk. 

Brian pulled you into a loving embrace and kiss suddenly eager to be back at the hotel to finish what was started. 

[breanime]

Unsaid (Part Three)

Final part! Thanks for indulging me in this one, you guys. Hope you enjoy!

*gif not mine*

It was a surprisingly good day for Jax so far; he’d been able to secure a deal with the Mayans, sent some cash to Big Otto in the pen, finished producing a new series for the Cara Cara girls, and was able to talk Clay down from doing some sketchy shit to the club. Plus, you had stopped by the clubhouse to bring him lunch, which he ate after he ate you…

…It was a good day.

There was still some shit going on, of course. There was always shit. Hale was sniffing around the club again. He’d gone to your job a few weeks ago to interview you, but Jax had very clearly expressed to him his displeasure with that (he may have punched a hole in Hale’s office door), and that had been that. Gemma was pissed at Clay, which meant he was being a bitch to everyone else, and Tig and Kozik were at each other’s throats—still. Plus, the Nords were back on their bullshit, which meant trouble for the Sons. But, all things considered, Jax was happy with the way things were going. Particularly, he was happy with how things were going with you. So much so, in fact, that he was ready to take the next step with you. Upstairs, hidden in his dorm in his lockbox beside the first bullet he ever got pulled out of him, his passport, his Dad’s half-burnt manuscript, Abel’s first tooth, and a small velvet box containing an engagement ring.

“What kind of cut does she like?” Chibs had asked.

Jax, Chibs, and Opie were standing in the middle of a brightly lit jewelry store, actively ignoring the confused and suspicious looks they were getting from the customers and staff alike.

Jax shrugged. “This one?” He tried, pulling at his kutte, proudly showing his VP patch off.

Opie rolled his eyes, and Chibs chuckled despite himself. “Jesus Christ, Jackie, I meant what kind of diamond does she like? Like the style?”

“Oh shit,” Jax moved over to a display and looked down at the collection of sparkling rings, “I don’t know. Does it matter much?”

Chibs shook his head at the younger man’s stupidity. “To a woman? You bet your ass it matters, boy.”

“How’d the hell you do it the first time?” Opie asked.

“With Wendy?” Jax shrugged one shoulder. “It was easy, she was so loaded all the time, I could’ve given her a half-eaten Ring Pop and she wouldn’t have noticed.” He paused. “Actually, I don’t think I gave her a ring at all.”

“Well, you’re doing it right this time,” Chibs said, placing his hand on Jax’s shoulder encouragingly, “Although now I’m starting to think that maybe we should have brought Lyla or your ma.”

“Lyla’s working,” Opie said, voice tight. Neither Jax nor Chibs asked him to elaborate; they all knew what that meant.

“And Gem?” Chibs asked, effectively changing the subject.

Jax made a face. “If I brought my Mom, she’d be the one who ended up proposing.” He looked down at the display of spinning diamonds with a frown on his face. When the hell did they come up with these?

“That’s true,” Opie chuckled, coming to stand beside Jax, “Wow, that’s… new. When the hell did they come up with spinning jewelry?”

“Right?” Jax agreed.

“How about these?” Chibs pointed to a row of rings off to the side.

Jax leaned over to have a better look. “These aren’t bad,” he caught a saleswoman’s eye as he straightened up. The look she gave him was half-suspicious, half-interested.

“Can I help you…” She eyed their kuttes. “…gentlemen?”

“Yeah,” Jax smiled and watched her stance soften, “I’m looking for a ring to propose with, but there’s so many options…”

The girl’s face lit up, and she clasped her hands together in glee. “Oh, congratulations,” she cheered, her suspicious demeanor completely gone away now, “What’s her name?”

“Y/N,” Jax said, your name coming out of his mouth like a prayer. Just saying it once had him feeling all soft.

“Well I’m Michelle, let me show you some of our newer pieces. Does she have a preference?”

“She likes the pink-looking ones,” Chibs said eagerly, “I saw her showing some of her favorite earrings off to a couple of the girls the other night.”

“Pink?” Michelle asked, tilting her head.

Jax put a hand over his face as Opie huffed out a laugh. “You mean rose-gold, Irishman?” Ope said.

“Yeah,” Jax ignored Chibs and Opie’s arguing in the background and turned to Michelle, “She really likes rose-gold. You got anything in that color?”

It took Jax, Chibs, Opie, and the delightfully helpful Michelle about two hours to pick out the perfect ring. They thanked Michelle and tipped her heavily for her help, and though he was nervous, Jax was excited as well.

He had the ring, now all he had to do was drop to one knee and ask the most beautiful, loyal, amazing woman on Earth to agree to be his wife.

He looked up when Chibs, Tig, Happy, and Bobby came into the clubhouse, laughing and talking. Chibs came up to him and put his arm around Jax’s shoulders.

“Tonight’s the night, right Jackie boy?” He asked.

Jax laughed. “Maybe.”

“Maybe? How much longer are you gonna make us wait?” Tig asked, moving behind the bar and grabbing a few shot glasses.

“Make you wait?” Jax asked, still laughing. “Fuck off, Trager.”

“Never thought I’d see Jax shy away from a woman,” Bobby joked, sliding the now-full shot glasses over to the rest of them.

“I ain’t shying away from shit, fat boy,” Jax took his shot in one gulp.

“So do it tonight,” Tig said, shrugging as he refilled the glass, “Gemma says she’s gonna be throwing a big party tonight, everyone’s gonna be here.”

Jax tapped his fingers on the bar. “Yeah,” he nodded, “Yeah, I’ll do it tonight.”

The guys cheered, throwing their shot glasses up. Tig actually giggled as he filled them up again.

“Just don’t puss out, man,” Happy cautioned, tipping his glass to Jax.

“I won’t brother,” he promised—and he meant it, “I won’t.”

By the time you got to the clubhouse to help Gemma set up, the guys were all gone. You didn’t ask where they were—you never did—you just helped put the tables together and get the place ready for the party. Some of the other girls were there, and they all gave you and Gemma a certain width of respectful distance, only coming up to you to ask if there was anything else they could do. You were still getting used to that—everyone knew you were with Jax, and they treated you accordingly. He was the VP, after all, and he had an…explosive temper. But then again, so did you.

“Baby,” Jax had one hand up and the other in his hair, pushing the blonde locks back, “You gotta talk to me, what’s going on?”

You were in his dorm, slamming as much of your stuff as possible into the big ass purse Gemma had gotten you for your birthday a few weeks back. “Fuck all the way off, Teller,” you growled, shoving one of your shirts into the bag.

“Hey, hey,” he came up behind you, grabbing you by the elbow and spinning you around, “You gotta talk to me, Y/N, I have no idea what’s got you so pissed.”

“Oh, you don’t?” You asked, pushing his chest, “So you have no idea why some sweetbutt is out there wearing MY goddamn shirt? You have no clue how she got something that was in your room and how it got on her body?!” You yelled, pushing him again even though he didn’t move from the action.

Jax blinked. “What—what the hell are you talking about? Some chick’s got the same shirt as you, so you flip your shit at me?”

“No, she’s wearing my shirt that was in your room,” you glared up at him, “So tell me how she got in your room, Jax!”

Jax took a breath. He understood where your anger was coming from, but it was all a misunderstanding. Still, if some guy was walking around in one of his shirts that he’d left at your place, he’d be beyond pissed too. “Y/N,” he spoke carefully, “I swear, I have no idea how this happened.” He watched the doubt, confusion, and hurt flash through your eyes and set his jaw. “But I’m gonna find out.”

You had followed him down into the club and watched as he scanned the small crowd until he saw her. Jax stomped over to her, grabbing her and pushing her against a table. Glass shattered as it hit the floor, and the girl gasped at Jax’s roughness. He pushed his finger into her face and glared down at her. “You got two seconds to open that rancid mouth and tell me where you got that shirt,” he growled.

“I—I got it from your room,” she stammered, eyes wide, “I wanted to surprise you, but one of the other girls saw me and made me leave, I—I just wanted you to notice me, so I took the shirt, I didn’t know—”

“—didn’t know that it belonged to my Old Lady? That I belong to my Old Lady?” He yelled back. “Take that fucking shirt off and get out—NOW!” He roared.

Teary-eyed, she took the shirt off and threw it on the floor. You didn’t move to grab it, you didn’t even want it anymore. The girl turned to run off, but Jax grabbed her by the wrist and stopped her.

“You upset my lady,” he said, voice low, “Apologize.”

She turned to you, lip quivering in a way that was meant to be devasting but fell flat. “I—I’m sorry. I was just trying to get Jax’s attention…”

“And then his dick, am I right?” You asked, stepping up and balling your fist. You felt the anger course through you—you were so sick and tired of chicks like her, coming out of the woodwork and trying to get with your man. None of them really cared about Jax, none of them were equipped to deal with his lifestyle, none of them wanted him for the man he was—they just saw the kutte, not the man. “I’m gonna say this once,” you told her, “And I want you to listen close and tell all the other little kittens that Jax Teller is mine, and if I see your face around here again, I’m gonna break into your house, bathe you in gasoline, and light you on fire.” You smiled, all teeth, and saw her shrink away in fear. “We clear?”

“Y—yes,” she stammered, taking a few small steps back, “I am so, so sorry, Mrs. Teller!” And with that, she was gone.

Jax laughed, wrapping his arm around you and placing a kiss to the side of your head. “Mrs. Teller, huh?” He threw you a wink. “I like the sound of that.”

You rolled your eyes, not telling him that you liked it, too. “Let’s go put my shit back, Teller,” you said, “and then we’re getting a fucking lock for your door.”

After that, your issues with the other girls became pretty much non-existent. You liked the easy rhythm you and Jax had fallen into; there were still things about his lifestyle that were hard for you to grasp, but you knew there wasn’t another person on this planet who loved you more, or who you wanted to be with. So when he walked into the warehouse, followed by his brothers, laughing with his head thrown back, you smiled. Just the sight of him, just the sound of his laughter made you happy. Your grin widened when Jax looked up and locked eyes with you. You heard Gemma sniff from behind you, and when you turned to look at her, she was dabbing her eyes with her sleeve.

“Gem?” You stepped over to her, concern clear in your voice. “You alright?”

She nodded, opening her arms to pull you into a tight hug. “Everything’s fine, baby,” she said, smiling as she stepped back, “I’m just so happy to have you is all.” She reached over and pressed a kiss to your temple. “I’m happy you’re with my Jackson.”

You smiled back, a little confused, but happy. “Me too, Gem.” You giggled when you felt a pair of strong arms wrap around you, and the smell of leather and cigarettes and pure, unbridled man hit you. “Hi Jax.”

“Hey darlin’,” he said against your lips, he looked up and grinned at Gemma, “Hey, Mom.”

“Hi, baby,” Gemma smiled back, “I’m gonna go get the cake ready.”

“Cake?” You asked, but Gemma was already rushing back to the kitchen, snapping her fingers at two Croweaters and demanding they follow her. You looked over at Jax, who was licking his lips and running a hand through his slicked back hair. “We got a cake?”

He shrugged. “Eh, who knows with Gemma?” He put an arm around your waist and pulled you closer. “Come outside with me?” He asked.

You nodded, letting Jax lead you outside to the picnic tables. He was acting a little strange, he kept looking behind him, and you could swear you saw Opie, Bobby, Chibs, Tig, and Juice peeking in through the window. You sat on the table, hands folded in your lap, as Jax took out a cigarette and lit it. He walked in front of you, pacing, and you knew he was building himself up to say something. You decided to give him a little push.

“Missed you today,” you said, smiling.

He smirked. “That’s the goal, sweetheart.”

You leaned forward a bit, giving him a little glimpse at your cleavage. “Did you miss me?”

Jax laughed, tossing his cigarette to the ground and stomping it out. “Course I did,” he answered, “That’s why I lured you out here.”

“I thought you just wanted me out here to steal my virtue.”

He stood over you, kissing your nose with a smirk. “Already did. And I ain’t ever getting it back.” He kissed you, lips soft and gentle on yours. “Gotta ask you something,” he said, mouth still on yours, “and I want to ask you the right way, but… I can’t give you a speech.”

“Okay,” you cocked an eyebrow, “I don’t need a speech. Just ask me.” You put both hands on his face, forcing him to meet your eyes. “You know I’d do anything for you.”

Jax let out a breath. You’d never seen him like this before—you’d seen him anxious before, you’ve seen him question himself before, but this… He seemed genuinely nervous. “Tell me you love me,” he said, voice soft.

“I love you,” you said.

He smiled. “I love you, too.” He took another breath before taking a step back…and getting down on one knee.

You stood up, eyes wide, barely registering the intake of breath from inside of the clubhouse (you were pretty sure you heard Tig say “yay!”). You watched as Jax reached into his pocket and took out a small blue box, your heart pounding. He popped the box open to reveal a gorgeous rose-gold ring with a huge diamond in the center and several other diamonds leading up to it. It took your breath away.

“Marry me,” Jax said, voice steady but eyes full of energy, “I love you. You’re the best thing that ever happened to me, and I need you. Marry me, Y/N.”

You clasped your hand over your mouth, feeling tears spring to your eyes, and nodded vigorously. You let out a laugh behind your hand when you saw the smile on Jax’s face. “Yes!” You were crying now. “Yes!”

Jax stood up and grabbed you, pulling you into his arms and kissing you as he spun you around. You heard cheering, clapping, and laughter in the background, and before you knew it, you were engulfed in a sea of giddy bikers hugging and congratulating you while Gemma held a huge cake with the Reaper saying “WE’RE GETTING MARRIED” in black frosting. You buried your face in Jax’s shoulder, wordlessly telling him how much you loved him and how grateful you were to have him in life.

Jax pulled back, grinning, and slid the ring onto your finger. Neither of you said anything, you just kissed, blissful and happy and in love, as your friends—and family, now—cheered you on. You knew that this was exactly where you belonged. This was exactly where he belonged.

And even though neither of you ever said it, you knew exactly where this was headed…

…a happily ever after.

******************************************************************************************

The end! Heh heh, comments and reblogs are super duper appreciated. Thanks for reading! Here’s the pic of the ring, if you were curious (I’m bad at jewelry, so I just picked the first one that caught my eye lol)

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