#imagine how they fucking feel im just a random fucking third party

[getyinyusedtoit]

oh. .. .....

[zweiginator]

thinking about Stanford era art begging you for pussy <3 you insist that you don’t fuck athletes anymore, but he has his sights set on you and he just needs you so so bad :((( he’s willing to get on his knees and prove how badly he wants it :( just down soooo bad for you <3

wait how have i not seen this until now.....im sorry i got so carried away with this and its so long

art feels like he sees you everywhere. you work at his favorite coffee shop; it's the little cafe right off campus that he walks by on his way to the tennis courts every day before class. he sees you at the library and at the grocery store. he sees you at little gatherings: tiny house parties and bonfires and everywhere.

he asks people what your name is, who you are, if they know you at all. and people just shrug. say they've seen you around but they don't know you particularly well.

and he asks these questions to these random peers of his because he thinks he's in love with you. his obsession has festered since you wrote his name on his coffee cup back in august. it was the third day of the semester and there you were in low rise jeans and a simple white t-shirt, your hair pulled back. your lips were the color of bitten cherries and you smiled at him. said 'cold brew for art!' in the most saccharine, syrupy voice he had ever heard.

he already thought he loved you then. and then he kept seeing you. and seeing you. and then seeing you again. you definitely didn't remember him. thousands of customers a day near a vast college campus made art's face fade into a sea of other students with cold brew orders and milk substitutions and impatient sighs.

his thoughts were pure, for the most part. he really yearned of buying you roses. the look you'd have on your face when he handed you the full dozen. giddy as you leaned in to kiss him on the cheek. and there your cherry cola lipstick would stain. a mark of your territory. he wanted to fucking be yours.

his thoughts were pure until it was early september and it was still hot outside. oppressive, hellish heat made practice unbearable. art remembered seeing signage indicating that stanford had a pool open for students to swim for free. so he followed them and there he was in his socks and sandals with a towel slung over his arm as he searched for a chair.

and when he peered over his sunglasses, there you were in a gingham bikini, baby pink. reading a book. the oils in your sunscreen melded with your sweat and made your legs glisten, a blinding beacon that almost reflected light like a mirror. looking at your legs only guided him to ogling your torso, the expanse of your neck, that too glistening with perspiration. and then he saw your tits and the curve of your ass and every thought he had about dates and dinner and roses was pushed aside.

'fuck' art almost whimpered it. he turned around because swimming at a public pool with his peers sporting a boner would be social torment. so he left.

and for months, art continued with his rituals. seeing you around, he would smile or nod, but he would never formally introduce himself. would never say hello.

even wearing sweaters and loose jeans art found you fucking irresistible. he imagined how your tits were bouncing as you walked to class. how they would look with you on top of him. it all spiraled until he inevitably ended up fucking his fist, his jaw tensed as his mouth fell open and he went to moan your name--just to realize he didn't know it.

now it's halloween, and art shows up to the tennis team's costume party. he doesn't want to be there. in fact, he's dressed up as himself--a lonely stanford tennis player. racket and everything.

art sits on the couch and twirls his racket on the floor, watching it spin. and then, he hears your voice. a trickle of laughter that makes him stand up to find you. and when he does his knees almost buckle.

you're a black cat, with ears glued to a headband and a tight black tank top. a tiny, tiny black skirt and fishnets and heels to match. your nose is painted pink, cheeks adorned with faux whiskers from your liquid eyeliner.

art interrupts your friends completely.

"i'm art." he holds his hand out, awkwardly as he stands in front of you. he's tall and obscures your view of your friend group.

you grab his hand quizzically and introduce yourself and art is beaming. he has your name.

and then you say five words that send an electric shock through his arm, right to his heart.

"sorry, i have a boyfriend." you nod your head to the boy behind art, who looks like he wants to tear his head off with his teeth. he's a football player, it's obvious by his build. he looks huge next to art, although art is taller.

art says meekly, "well it was great to meet you." smiles at you and walks away. he doesn't know what to do with himself. he leaves, dejected.

___

and if art thought he saw you a lot before that party, then the world is pulling pranks on him because now he can't escape you. and the boyfriend he had never seen before seems to always make a guest appearance.

but you notice art a little more too. he's polite and charming, a tad awkward in an endearing way. his arms look strong when he comes into the coffee shop, tennis bag on his back.

when he comes up to the counter, you look at him through your lashes.

"cold brew, art?"

he nods. flushes a shade of scarlet you've never seen before. you've never had this power over a man.

"can i have your number?" art asks, pointing to his cup. you're still holding the sharpie you wrote his name with. you tug your lip between your teeth.

"i told you not even a week ago i have a boyfriend." you lean forward and art looks at your tits unabashedly. he's a little more confident now as he leans forward too.

"can we not be friends?"

you cap the sharpie. "we both know that's not what you want." a pause. "he and i broke up after the party."

art's ears almost visibly perk up. a hope is sparked. was it for him?

"but trust me." you point to art's tennis bag, the words on his t-shirt. "after that douche, i'm never fucking an athlete again."

art bites the inside of his cheek. he nods and grabs a straw from the counter.

"well i'll let you get back to work. it was nice seeing you again." art flashes you a smile. it's contrived and laced with the pang of rejection, but he smiles.

always so cordial.

art takes everything as a challenge. tennis has always been his outlet; it's the one thing that fuels his fire. but now he has you and there's not even anyone in particular to fight against but he wants you. he needs you and he has to make you change your mind.

he sees you around less frequently now; he figures it's due to the changing weather. he asks you for your number a few more times when he sees you at the cafe; his order has changed from cold brew to cappuccino and you always draw a smiley face on his cup. but the last time it was a heart and art is going crazy for you.

maybe it's because he hasn't had sex since summer because he doesn't even want to if it's not you. maybe it's because tennis has slowed down and it's cold outside. but he's losing hope because you've rejected him five times now and it's just getting pathetic.

and then, at a christmas party, he sees you again. in red tights and knee high boots with thigh high socks and a sweater dress. he sees you talking to a boy with mousy brown hair and art wants to fucking strangle him. he walks up to you.

"cute outfit." art says, pointing at you with his beer bottle.

he's wearing jeans and a cream colored sweater. his hair is messy, lips pink from the bitter wind outside. you admit he's cute. you've never denied that. but it's fun to watch him vie for you.

"thank you. yours isn't so bad yourself."

the boy walks away. so he isn't your new boyfriend. art counts that as a win. and he follows you around like a puppy all night. he asks if you need a drink. it feels like before you get a word out, there he is with a new one and he never opens it because he wouldn't want you to ever be uncomfortable.

and usually you would be uncomfortable getting undying attention like this. art's being a little pathetic, but as your friend told you at the halloween party after he walked off:

"fuck, he's hot."

and hours later, art is still there. it's getting late and people trickle out but there he is on the couch. and maybe you're bored. so you sit right next to him. the smoothness of your tights rubs against art's leg as you settle into the couch. his eyes widen.

"why won't you leave me alone?" you ask. it sounds harsher than you mean it.

"i-i'm sorry. i can leave you alone if you want." art has this little frown on his face. but he knows you would've told him to fuck off months ago if that's how you really felt.

you turn towards him and furrow your brows, taking a swig of your beer. "i never said that, artie. i'm just asking why."

you swear art whimpers at the nickname you give him.

"because you're gorgeous." he says, plain and simple. the sky is blue, water is wet, and you're gorgeous.

it makes you melt a little. you don't show it.

"so you don't want to fuck me?"

art chokes on his own beer a little. he notices how everyone is down the hallway, chatting in the kitchen. their voices sound shallow and far away.

art thinks for a minute. he was raised to be a gentleman. to be sweet and kind and patient. but he thinks he's tried that already. so he goes for a more blunt approach.

art sets his beer down and leans in close to you. closer than he has ever been.

"if i'm being completely honest," he swallows. "i'd do anything for your pussy."

his vulgarity almost makes you jump. gives you butterflies too.

your voice is shaky and you are hyperaware of the feeling of his leg against yours. you never noticed his eyes are different colors.

"i told you, i don't fuck athletes anymore."

art draws in a breath. "who said you have to fuck me?"

his eyes are boring into you. pupils blown, a battle line of sweat has appeared over his brows. his jaw is square and tense and he rolls the sleeves of his sweater up.

"i'll do anything for your pussy, i said." he licks his lips. you swear you see him salivating and your legs seem to open without you even realizing it.

art can see your panties. white with a bow on top and he looks away because he was raised better than this. his eyes flit down again and there it is, the jackpot. the fucking powerball. a wet spot. he can even see it through your tights.

"anything? that could be anything." you say. you look around and nobody is there but the room is open concept, new laughter erupts every few seconds. the front door is unlocked.

"exactly." art gets on his knees in front of the couch. he pushes the coffee table further away and it looks like he's about to kiss the floor. he kisses your ankle instead. "i think i've been a good boy."

you want to push him around you want to pull his hair and call him names, god he's making it so easy.

"if you'd do anything, then come here." you pull him by the collar of his sweater and your mouths are millimeters apart. art doesn't know what you mean, what you're about to do.

you slap him across the face. it leaves a mark and the chatter in the other room stops for a second. or two.

a part of you, in the interim, expects art to get up and walk away. to call you crazy. but he smiles, big and toothy. his bottom lip brushes against yours and he mewls,

"do it again, please."

you slam your lips into his and he holds himself up with one arm. his free hand cradles your face and you grab it and slap his own hand across his cheek. art moans into your mouth. ruts against you. it's involuntary, but you feel his cock, hard and heavy through his jeans. but you said you wouldn't fuck him.

the desperation in his kisses makes you almost feel bad. like he's afraid you'll run away. but the way his lips latch onto yours and his tongue licks into your mouth makes you want him too. you pull his hair and wrap your hand around his throat and he pushes your fingers further in. he wants you to make it hurt so he can fucking remember it and see the proof. so you do and he chokes for air, his mouth falling open. you spit in it. he'll take anything you'll give him. he wasn't kidding.

he runs his hands down your body. takes his time with you and you watch to make sure nobody is coming. art doesn't care. he plays with your tits and hikes your dress up but you won't moan for him. he'll make you.

he tears your tights. throws your legs over his shoulders and presses a chaste kiss to your clothed cunt. your hips buck and he holds them down, throwing his forearm over your stomach.

"what if--" you worry.

he looks up at you through his lashes. you can barely see his irises; his cheeks have your handprint tatooed on them.

"i don't care." he pushes your panties to the side.

"fuck."

his dream has come true.

he runs his fingers through your folds and you're soaked for him, sticky and messy and it coats his fingers as he rubs your clit in slow circles.

you hold your moans back, still.

"prettiest pussy i've ever seen." his eyes are almost crossed, the way he's looking at your little cunt, fluttering for him. his mouth is hung open and his lips are so close to your hole, but he just plays with you. spreads you open and admires your swollen little clit as he pushes it around with his thumb.

his fingers are long and you watch him push his middle one into you, all the way to the last knuckle. you grip onto the couch and gasp and he pushes his ring finger in too. he fucks them into you and your eyes are closed and you swear you hear people about to come in--but you moan for him.

"art--artie, please. oh fuck please--"

you're loud. that was too loud, but art nods, knelt before you like you're his fucking princess. you are.

"want me to eat your pussy right here?" he asks it almost sweetly. his fingers fuck into you faster, curling as he works your clit too.

"god--yes, i'll do anything please artie--"

he spits on your pussy. it's probably mixed with your spit too. licks a thick stripe over your lips and spreads you open to flick the strong tip of his tongue over your clit. he moans more than you are; the vibrations send shockwaves of pleasure up your spine and you're yanking on his hair so hard you think it might come out. he kisses your pussy like it's your mouth. it's an extension of it, to him. fucks his tongue into your pretty little hole and he feels it flutter around him. drool drips down his chin. his stubble is rubbing the backs of your thighs raw and he pushes them back. holds the backs of your legs so your ankles dangle and he can spread your pussy himself with his tongue. he can see how you convulse for him. you moan art's name over and over and he never liked his name all that much but right now he loves it because it's tumbling out of your mouth in gasps and whimpers and your legs are shaking under his grasp.

you watch the veins in his hands and arms tremble as he spits on your clit again. the second he makes eye contact with you, he smiles. you hear people coming, and then you're cumming and art isn't letting off even though the hallway isn't that long.

but he pulls your dress down at the last second and purposely spills his beer off the wooden coffee table.

"everything alright out here?" someone asks from the group.

art feigns surprise. "yeah, fuck. spilled my beer. he turns around and it's all over his pants. he wipes your arousal from his face with the sleeve of his sweater.

you stifle a giggle, because there isn't beer on his pants.

[f0point5]

would you consider writing the time when max realized that he loved yn?

i remember that he was like in a mindset of idgaf what happens with her im js happy being best friends and having her in my life but i wonder how he got to that point

The way this came out…idk I hope you like it 😂 I really wish I’d retconned this whole situation but I stayed true to the fic timeline.

I just…I really hope you don’t hate it 🫠

✨Set after Max wins his 3rd championship in Qatar✨

Honestly, who (is he) to fight the alchemy?

Max has been in love before. He knows what it feels like. It felt like winning a race. The adrenaline, the elation, the satisfaction, the sliver of relief. He didn’t think there was a better feeling, and if you feel that when you’re with someone, then that must be love.

He never felt like that with you. So he wasn’t in love. He loved you, but he wasn’t in love. Thank God for that, he’d always thought to himself. Max didn’t put effort into games he wouldn’t win and the games you played with men didn’t have a rule book. He was just so lucky, to have you as a friend, and a roommate, and a feline co-parent, and that’s how it would stay.

Except, when the journalist had asked him if you were going to live with him after he retired, he didn’t know what to say. Of course you would, except, how would your boyfriend feel about that? And of course he wanted you to, but he wanted a family, too. But you were family, in some complicated way that he’d never realised before that moment might mean that you wouldn’t always be…with him.

And he didn’t have the desire or the language skills to explain that to a random German journalist. He’d rattled off some answer about how he never knew what the future would bring. It was true, he didn’t think much about the future. But he should have, because when he did it always had you in it.

He wanted a house, and a wife, and kids. It wasn’t like he envisaged doing all that with you. Except, he hadn’t envisaged doing any of it without you, either. It was always you imagined having breakfast with, you he imagined would teach his kids to ski, you he thought about when he thought about buying one of those mansions in the hills above Monaco. Naively, he hadn’t imagined either of you with partners that would mind you and Max living your lives together. It sounded fucking stupid when he thought about it. But, it’s not like he was going to marry you, because he’s not in love with you.

It’s not like I’m in love with her. He’d said that before.

Aren’t you, Max?

Isn’t he?

Is he?

So now here he is, at this totally-not-a-party party, celebrating his this third world championship, wondering if he’s in love. Wondering if that even matters. The music is loud, not enough to drown out his thoughts. He can’t even drink too much because he still has a race tomorrow. He feels lightheaded enough.

He doesn’t know why he’s questioning himself. He has an answer. He knows what being in love feels like, and he doesn’t feel that about you. How he does feel about you, is…not quantifiable. Except he’d really like a name for it right about now. One that’s not going to spin his whole world off its axis. But then, he’s not exactly the axis, is he? Not really.

He should feel like the centre of the universe tonight. He’s lost count of how many times he’s received praise and congratulations, plaudits, and pictures, even gifts. Everyone wants to be in his orbit, everyone wants to talk to him, everyone except you.

You’re leaning against the balcony, bopping along to the music, talking to his dad of all people, your flushed face and lazy grin telltale signs you’ve had too much to drink. Jos is as close as he ever gets to smiling, a telltale sign he’s had too much to drink, and the two of you are, as usual, talking over each other. His eyes linger on your long legs and gentle curves. It would be cutting a corner, to say he’s in love with you, because how can you not be at least a little bit infatuated with the most beautiful woman you’ve ever seen? But that’s not love, exactly. Even half drunk, with all this talk of spinning and the party beginning to blur at its edges, the only thing he can see clearly is you. You don’t even notice him looking, because you’re so used to feeling eyes on you.

No, being around you has never felt like winning much of anything. It actually feels a bit like he’s fighting for his life. It feels like…driving, he realises, as the gin starts to hit.

Being around you was like being in the RB19. Like being behind the wheel of something that could kill you, but fits you like a second skin. Like the illusion of having control of a force of nature. It was like living on a knife edge, but building a home there. Comfortable with the uncomfortable, they’d called him, and nothing had ever made him as uncomfortable as you.

If that was being in love, he’d probably been in love with you for as long as his dad said he was.

You don’t notice him looking, but Jos does. He waves Max over, and Max is glad for an excuse. His body gets up before he’s decided to, and he blinks furiously as he walks, trying to focus his thoughts enough to hold a conversation with you when he’s beginning to think he might-

“Maxy,” you say, grinning like it’s the first time you’ve seen him all night.

Fuck. Fuck.

Oh, fuck. The gin’s coming back. For a second he feels like he’s either going to ask you to marry him or vomit all over you.

“I’m leaving. She’s all yours,” Jos says, and Max steadies himself. His dad leans over and gives him one last hug before switching to Dutch. “Get her to bed. And yourself, also. You’ve still got to race tomorrow,”

Max nods and waves him off, closing his arms around you when you wobble, leaning into him for stability. Jos gives you a pat on the shoulder before disappearing into the crowd, and you teeter again, pushing you further into Max. The extra weight is like a balm on what is now a gaping, raw wound, with the nerves exposed. He will never recover from this.

You turn in his arms, scrunching your nose in displeasure as you look up at him. “I hate this hat,” you flick the brim of his World Champion cap. “Worst hat they ever made you. Next year, we do a better one,”

“Okay,” he says, chuckling as the hat leaves his head.

“Can I have this?” You’ve already put it on.

“Sure,”

Take it. Take my Valkyrie. Take the trophy. Take my last name.

“Why are you looking at me like that?”

He doesn’t know how he’s looking at you. Is it different than he looked at you two hours ago? Different then when you were 19?

He just shrugs, tipping the hat back for you, since it’s so big. “You’re drunk,” he yells over the music.

You lean in, so close that he’s intoxicated by the scent of your perfume, champagne, and Red Bull. He turns away from you slightly, because he’s had too much to drink to be this close to you.

“I know,” you whisper to him, your lips grazing his cheek as you talk. That’s not helping. He turns back to you, finding your eyes searching his. For the first time, he’s worried what you might see. Because you’ve always seen him too clearly. It was awful, then exhilarating, now it’s just fucking terrifying. Your eyes narrow and Max thinks you’re about to outright accuse him of wanting- “You’re supposed to be drunk, too,”

He laughs. He laughs at your pout, at getting away with it, for a little while longer, at least, and he laughs because on the night he’s won a world championship he realises he lost his heart a long time ago.

Loving you didn’t feel like a winning a race, it felt like driving in one. And after all, isn’t driving all he ever wanted to do?

“I am, Engel,” he says, “trust me, I am.”

[froznwater]

im so sorry this is incredibly random but if i dont write alenoah i WILL die but i cant think of anything to write. do u have any simple ideas. ignore if not

HI!!! tysm for your ask <3 i hope you can find something to write amongst all the ideas. These are a bunch of ideas have written down in my notes/google drive/tumblr posts and have not got gotten around to. I still might at some point in time but feel free to use them. I will still do my own take if I get the time/motivation. There's simply so many, why not share and inspire some fics :)

----

General ideas:

Noah knows/learns spanish. Bonus points if Alejandro isn't aware until the perfect moment.

Alejandro thinks he can get away with flirting with Noah in spanish. Noah starts shit talking in spanish. Noah learns so he can hear all the little comments Alejandro keeps making under his breath. etc. so many possibilities.

Now that the show is over and Noah's off to college, he realizes he’s missing something in his life. Maybe it’s his friends, maybe it’s a lack of ever-looming danger, OR maybe it’s Alejandro. Who fucking knows. He’s too busy trying not to be in love with Alejandro to figure it out. 

Their group project is failing, horribly. There’s one thing Noah knows for certain: Alejandro's to blame. At what point does slippery eel turn into a term of endearment?

They have never ever fallen asleep next to each other. Let alone in each other's arms. Never.

Time loop where Alejandro is stuck on the episode where Noah gets voted out and sticks himself to falling in love because he can’t let go of his pride long enough to simply let Noah stay in the game and move on.

Noah loses his contacts and starts wearing his glasses more often. Alejandro notices. Everyone notices Alejandro notices.

Alejandro and Noah team up to get their friends together (insert whatever ship you like) and end up together in the process/the other two were trying to do the same thing for them.

A commentary timeline on how Alejandro's charisma turn into exploitation, how Noah's patience turned into indifference, and how they parallel each other. (I've written a few hundred words for this one lol.)

Each thinks the other doesn't like them. Cut to third party POV that watches and witnesses them completely a mess for each other.

Noah, once voted out in I See London, learns about Alejandro's family. Who have been very vocal since the show started airing.

Exploration of how Alejandro tries really really hard. Yes, He's at the top of the class, but so is Noah. Noah who sleeps through classes and doesn't turn in homework and shows up late or simply not at all and is still right up there with him.

“I would kill to be like you. To just absorb all the information fed to me. If I were you I might actually- “(beat my brother) “Might actually what?” “I told you. I don’t want to talk about it, Noah.” - "Do you know how long I studied for that test? Hours. And you- You got a 96 with no effort at all." It was a 98. But this seems like a bad time to correct him.

Dialogue one-liners prompts i've written down:

"If we make it out of this alive, I'm going to kiss you."

“Why do I feel like I cant say no to you?”

"I know you don't actually care about me, but thank you for trying to pretend that you do." (Said by Noah is joking. Said by Alejandro is bitter.)

"You can't win against someone who has nothing to lose."(Alejandro OR Noah angst.)

Soulmate aus:

My big two: Telepathy/Mentally linked.(imagine this one as a wt rewrite omg) And Whatever you draw on yourself shows up on your soulmate. Matching tattoos.

First words on each other. (I've done this one already here. but feel free to do it as well!!)

Communicating through dreams. (If you know cardcaptor sakura; like that.)

General AUs:

Until dawn AU.

Gakuen Alice AU.

My Babysitters A Vampire AU. Zombie Apoc AU.

Harry Potter AU. Reality Dating Show AU.

Infinity Train AU!!!!!!

Veronica Mars AU!!!! (i wanna do this one ALOT noah is sooo veronica LMAO) OBLIGATORY IDEAS:

seven minutes in heaven.

wrong number.

trapped in a closet.

movie night. noah is sitting under alejandro and lol they are physically, platonically touching for awhile. (leads to finally getting together).

one gets injured, the other fixes them up in the nurses office :P.

short "prompt-ishs" i've started writing:

“What the hell is your problem, Alejandro?” And this time, the tone was so disgusted, so bitter, that something snapped, deep in Alejandro’s chest.

Fuck it.

“What’s my problem?” He asked, incredulous. “What’s my problem? You’ve got to be kidding me, Courtney. I almost died. I almost died, paralyzed and alone, and the only friend I thought I had didn’t give a single shit! The only person who cared was Noah, of all people. I quite literally come back to life and the only thing you can do is whine about your girlfriend problems.”

Courtney takes a step back.

“I was stuck in a robot for months, my legs barely work, my family moved on- actually, I don’t know if they ever actually even noticed,” He laughs, broken, “- and you have the audacity to ask me what my problem is?!”

Alejandro is over playing nice. He’s had enough.

-

this one is a rivals team up to get out courtney blurb

little idea about Alejandro getting into zodiacs.

moments where alejandro questions why Noah is so attractive

-

SEND MORE ASKS IF ANYONE HAS ANY QUESTIONS ON ANY OF THESE IDEAS!!! / IF THEY HAVE ANY IDEAS OR CONCEPTS TO ADD OR EXPAND ON :)))

[babygirlsthoughtsexactly]

To her..

girl... how my heart breaks for you.. If you ever make it out (and I pray you do) there will come a day that you will look back and know that you are worth so much more and yes you deserve more. Actually, I truly believe that people deserve the exact same love that they give. Arguments are fine, actually disagreements are to be expected in any relationship in your life because they are natural. Every single persion is different and we all have different opinions but IT IS NO FUCKING OKAY FOR ANYONE TO USE TOOLS H AS TERROR OR ACTUAL HARM for the sake of an argument. Its possible, because in my heart I have been to places that \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ o\ne should have to be and I still wasnt violent. That behavior is NOT OKAY But really I wish I could say so much to you because I have been you. I was recently in a situation(and even though I can see so many similarities, there are always two sides to a story and the truth probably lies in the third party or God) similar to yours and every single day I wondered if that was going to be the day because I knew in my heart that if I stayed in that situation that I was going to die (either he would kill me or I would kill myself) ((and sorry to be so brutally honest but if there is one thing that you should know about me its im !00%real.. Id rather hurt your feelings then lie to your face ) but little by little I had let my feelings of self worth become so low that still to this day I can't face the things I have done. Looking back all of it was done just to feel something in return .. anything. and for what?!! ha I probably would have committed actual fucking horrendous acts if he would have commanded. See now I know that the word for that is SICK. I have and in so many ways still are SICK. Just a few KEY points that have crossed my mind today that I wish I could tell you..

1. You are Loved. My mom used to tell me this. Im really the first addict in my family and I have been blessed by one fucking amazing mother who I know I dont deserve sometimes and I pray that i one day will grow to be for my own kids. it is important to know this when it feels like your alone, and if nothing else YOUR BABIES ( #?) will ALWAYS LOVE YOU!43

2. LOVE SHOULD ALWAYS HAVE CIONDITIONS. While in my past situation( you will probably hear me refer to this as my PAST life which I still pray that I dont end up back in) I use tio think that love that love should always be unconditional, but it's not true at all. Yes, we definitely should always love people where they are at, BUT NOT EVERYONE WE LOVE DESERVES RECIPROCATION FROM US. Actually I have learned that in your situation (and my past) that the one who we are loving unconditionally is not even capable of the same love. Yeah, you are right (cause I know youre probably making some type of excuse for him by now.. at least in your mind) but hands down this individual is just FUCKING SICK. They know that they don't deserve the things or the people that they have so they show their appreciation by treating the people who love them like absolute trash while treating and going absolutely out of their way just to treat some random stranger like Royalty!! What you have to be able to do in order to see the whole box is remember.. a narcissist only cares about themselves so everything that they are doing is purely SELF MOTIVATED. SEE... SICK. I have though about making a list of conditions that I will require of any person in my life and it would definitely start with something like..A. Here is what I expect from you and this relationship (including RESPECT) or I choose (and I know that even though you feel like you don't sometimes) not to include to have you as an active part of my life. Whew, imagine all the heartache, tears and WASTED TIME you have could have saved if you had told yourself this before you fell for all the lies you feel stupid for believing.

3. IT IS NOT YOUR FAULT THAT YOU FELL FOR IT.. There is a really young artist Avery Anna, shes a narcissistic abuse survivor such as my self and these are the words in some of her lyrics. If you sit back and think about it the truth is we are probably are just used to taking all the blame.. all the time. Everybody plays a part in some way sometimes, that's logic.

Okay well to be honest I need a break to deal with life on life's terms so to be continued later hopefully.

Mood rn: Disappointed. In myself and in life 😔

[morimallow]

NSFW Alphabet (Suna Rintarou)

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

Not the best but at least? He's very very gentle with his actions because he knows you're still sensitive. If he's feeling a little more affectionate, you might receive an open-mouthed kiss or two. He always plants a kiss on your forehead after sex— it's like putting a cherry on top or adding finishing touches because he considers you beautiful and all.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

Although he uses his whole upper body to manipulate blockers in volleyball, he loves his hips. That moment of satisfaction when he hears you moan the time he slams back into you. HE LOVES YOUR BACK. The way it forms a beautiful dip during dog style, the way it reminds him you're so fucking sexy. His hands are always on your back and/or behind your thighs. Ugh.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

Creampie. Creampie. Creampie. Creampie. Creampie. Doesn't stop until your hole is filled and covered with his cum. Likes the sound of your skin slapping, sound way more lewd because of his sticky cum. When he's kinda rough, he likes to coat his fingers with his cum and make you lick it clean because he's nasty like that.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

Not just a secret of his but with the twins. The twins caught Suna humping on a volleyball in the storage room. That was one time when you stopped by the gym to check on him. You wore your knee-high socks that was hidden until that day because you ran out of clean socks. He had to make a deal with the twins because they'll never stop teasing him.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

Ugh, he knows his ways, his angles, his measurements, HE KNOWS THE ENTIRE MATHEMATICS. HE KNOWS YOUR ANATOMY. Let's all agree he has an average-sized dick but.. man, does he know how to put it to good use. I don't know his ways but he manages to his your spot every fucking time and you're just busy screaming his name and telling him you feel so good.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

What was it again..? The one when you ride his pretty cock with your back facing him. Back to letter B, he loves this position because a.) he can see your full back and b.) he can take control over your movements with the snap of his hips.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

He pours his emotions into having sex with you if you are his lover. His thoughts are just: I should make them feel loved, I'm gonna give them my best performance. Post-orgasm goofiness! Likes to tease you too. Like, “Baby, what was that sound you made when I fucked you so good? Did you purr for me, pretty baby?”

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

He only has thin strands of light brownish pubes so he doesn't shave often! If you prefer no pubes then he'd shave because you give the best blowjobs. You kinda like the way his pubes lightly tickle the area around your hole though..

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

Sucker for open-mouthed kisses to show his affection. He kisses you from your nape to your tailbone, doesn't matter if you're the one moving or him. INTERTWINING. HANDS. FINGERS. LEGS. He wants to hold you close. Remember, yeah? The reverse position? He'd hug you from behind, start pounding into you as he places his kisses. jfkekfjsjd im so weak for him

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

Jacks off when he's horny and you're not within his reach or not in the mood. He'd slowly trace the popping veins of his dick as he sets his image of you in his head. Then, he'd massage his balls, creeping up his cock until he plays with his tip. Would totally muffle his low moans.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Y'all.. squirting and laces. Loves the idea that he can make you squirt and make a mess above or under him. And laces.. it just looks perfect on your skin, makes it more delectable and prettier.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

Good ol'classic bed (prefers the one in your childhood bedroom), the doorway, and your bigass-not-tainted window. Don't ask me, this is just my fantasy.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

You squirting and queefing, your moans, the way you squeeze his cock good.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Spitting (don't fight me on this one), wax play, anything that might harm your skin but he's fine with hickeys and slap marks, hmmmmm.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

HE LOVES LICKING YOUR FOLDS LIEK— the fact that you can get off just with his mouth makes him ugh. The way your thighs contract as he grazes his teeth around your pussy. Hmm, he's most sensitive at the base. He'd either fuck your face the moment you suck his dick whole or let you have it your way, he'd still cum inside your mouth anyway. 11/10, best in oral.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

THE DUALITY OF THIS MAN MAKES ME WANNA GO FERAL. JGKEKJFJWND. He's usually fast and rough with a sprinkle of degradation but there are also moments he wants to take his time. He wants to appreciate every inch of your body, making sure he gives enough attention to each. He'd have a twitching cock dribbling with pre-cum but his whole focus is to make you feel good and loved, to make you reach your orgasm. This man can be so sweet at times. Sighs.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

Y'all.. this is a big yes for him. Not frequent though! Just when he feels like railing you inside the dressing room or in a certain bar VIP lounge.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

Always down as long as he's also interested! He was the one who initiated the ride-my-face, hoho. A little peek of curiosity of your kinks is enough for him to help you confirm that kink. RISKS? WHAT ARE THOSE? He'd command you to not wear underwear because he plans to fuck you in your reserved private restaurant booth.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

Three to five rounds. I won't elaborate further, your honor. I rest my case.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

HE BUYS TOYS FOR YOU. He bought the Sailor Moon set of dildos, not knowing what the fuck is Sailor Moon. He just thought it's pretty. He imagined it using on you because you wanted to have a threesome without having a third party and damn, did he make that possible and mind-blowing. Also, kind of a wide range of vibrators to pleasure his favorite baby while going for a morning run.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

BIGGEST TEASE. EDGING. EDGING. EDGING. UNTIL YOU BEG HIM TO JUST PLEASE LET YOU CUM AND CREAM ON HIS COCK. He'd rail you until you scream that you're cumming and he's out of your hole then teases your entrance with his cum from the last round.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

Low.. sexual.. hot.. groans.. gets u pregnant... im out.. have u heard his voice.. fucking.. hot..

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

Often puts his hand inside his pants or yours or inside your shirt and just plays with your nipples while he sends a text to Osamu or whoever.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

The body of a swimmer.. yes. He's not too ripped. He got the right amount of muscles and fats and muscles, muscles, muscles. Lean torso, omg. And his dick.. pretty cock of his. Perfect length, perfect shade. HE'S SO BEEFY.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

He! Rarely! Initiates! Having! Sex! Oh, but he often initiates make-out sessions but it's always up to you if you want to fuck or not. He can take care of himself, yes, but thinks it's better to take care of each other's needs, uwu. He's always down to having sex though. *eyes*

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

He falls asleep during or after your post-sex conversation after he has cleaned you up. Salty bae so tired making you both feel pleasure. Ugh, he's good.

Here is Suna's Fluff Alphabet!

M. List

[quirklessidiot]

Title: wine nights [coward series au]  Pairing: F!Reader x Miya Atsumu Genre: fluff, parents au, slice of life au  Synopsis: in which the older Miya twins and you have a heart to heart talk over wine.

Warnings: brief mentions of trauma

notes;

highly suggest to read the series for more understanding but either ways be my guest and just read it as a standalone if ya want to. also um the taglist has been closed ever since chap 7 was out so im really sorry :( 

happy 415 followers btw uwu. will be releasing my kita angst fic next week to celebrate a new milestone.

read the series here!  [ ss;; one, two, three, four ]

Osamu admits that you and him never saw eye to eye back in college (actually it was mostly him), it only took a worse turn when you left his twin. Now that he knows that the person you loved was actually his twin and that the father was the said person, he takes it back.

Yep, he takes it all back.

After profuse apologies and numerous deadpan responses from you saying that it was alright. You sort-of developed a weird friendship? He’d tell jokes and you’d just give him a blank expression and shake your head as if you were disappointed to be in the same room as him.

You always invited him and Daiki to your home every week on Sunday dinners though, he’s glad to be a part of it. He’s getting to know you a bit more and he’s slowly starting to understand why his brother loves you a lot.

The night is young and Atsumu is in the kids room, putting them to bed while you get ready for wine night. The younger Miya twin sits at the counter and nibbles on the cheese crackers as he watches you dry the dishes, “Has ‘tsumu ever told you how he first met you?” he suddenly asks out loud, curious if you knew how whipped his twin was for you and how much power you held over him.

You turn to the grey-haired twin with a plate on one hand and a dish towel on the other, “I don’t believe he or Shion-san has ever mentioned it.”

He chuckles, of course they wouldn’t. It was usually kept in the dark then and because of your strained relationships towards them when you were in college, they never actually got to tell you the story.

“He saw you one day, earlier in the school year…”

“He did mention that one time.” your forehead creases as you remember a fleeting conversation you had back then.

“Yeah, he kind of fell in love with you at first sight, Y/N.” his twin chuckled, “Sounds crazy right?”

Growing up, Osamu knows that his brother had attitude problems so imagine his shock and surprise when his twin called him up on a random night and started talking about this girl. This girl who barely paid him any attention at all.

Osamu recounts his thoughts then, how cruel fate would be for his twin to fall in love with a girl who paid him no mind when he had many others on his beck and call. He recalls how he’d call his brother a masochist, telling him to stop the fruitless chase towards you because you barely gave a time of day to Atsumu even if it was clear that he was completely and utterly enamored by you. 

Well, it ended happily for the both of you. Stable careers, dreams reached, happy family, and adorable kids. 

Son of a bitch, the old Osamu would be given a run for his money if he saw what had happened to you two now.

“That must’ve been a long time, then.”

“Oh, trust me.” Osamu breathed out, taking a sip of his wine, “It was only the first few months of the school year that time, Y/N. He says he saw you all the time but he could never pluck out the courage to actually go and talk to you.”

“Hm.” You mused, “I always thought that Atsumu had women hanging by his shoulder.”

Osamu chokes at the idea of Atsumu being a player, “Before he met you, it’s always been about volleyball. The idiot would go so far as insult the girls when they’d disrupt practice.”

“Huh,” you blink, “Was I his first girlfriend then?”

“Not exactly.” Osamu drawls, tapping his chin, “‘tsumu would say yes to girls but he never really knew what being a boyfriend was, he never hung out with the girls he said yes so it never really was a relationship. Hence why he’s got a reputation as a player.”

Osamu recounts even one time how annoyed his brother was when one of his ‘girlfriends’  came to their matches and screamed out his name when he did serves.

���She was fucking annoying,” Atsumu grumbles, walking in the middle of his brother’s tale and casting his twin a look, “Although I do wish that Y/N would come to my games. You never did come to any of them back when I was in college.”

“I was trying to graduate early.” you deadpan, placing the last dish on the dish rack to join them on the table.

“You’re forgiven, sweetheart.” He fakes a coo, making you roll your eyes as you pour yourself a glass.

“Atsumu tells me that he’s never smooth around you.”

“He isn’t.” you glazed, “Back in college when I gave him a tuna flavored onigiri as thanks after our meeting at the frat party, he had a nosebleed.”

Osamu chokes on his drink, “What the hell, ‘tsumu?” he barked, howling in laughter at his twin.

Atsumu would never deny the fact that what we had towards you was a school boy crush at first, he’d always be a nervous mess or his brain would cease to function whenever you came by then in college. He couldn’t put two and two together too, when you simply gave him one word replies, he’d be lost immediately. Not knowing what to say, all the charisma and overconfidence he had went down the drain by your curt replies.

What would anyone expect, really?

He’s never had crushes on anyone growing up.

The idea of putting time and effort towards something that wasn’t volleyball disgusted him yet here he was now, completely whipped for you and the brats while putting volleyball on second.

My, my how the tables have turned.

“You were really hard to talk to then, sweetheart.” He murmurs, “For the record, Y/N was the very first girl I asked out and you didn’t exactly make it easy after. I was thinking I was going to fail after those countless rejections.”

“You’re more pushy than Daiki, I’d have to admit. The guy stopped after his third rejection.”

Osamu raises a brow, he knows of your situation, Atsumu has mentioned it in passing but hasn’t gone into full detail about it but he’s curious, Daiki’s been around longer after all, “He’s known you longer than, ‘tsumu. Probably even deeper back then, how come you never ended up with him?”

Atsumu blinks and turns toward you, he’s curious too, Daiki has even openly admitted that he proposed to you seven years ago after knowing about the kids but you rejected him yet again (that was the last and final attempt)

You swirl the wine around, thinking of a proper response, “To be honest, I don’t know.” you answered, pondering as you turn towards Atsumu, “I just- it never felt right.”

Osamu whistles, “Dang, you just love my twin too much too. I take it back, yer both simps for each other, it's sickening.”

Atsumu lets out a childish tongue out in which he is replied by a middle finger from his other half.

You three continue to talk about random things and after deeming himself too sleepy and needing to open shop early tomorrow, Osamu says his goodbyes.

You sat in front of your vanity as you did your nightly routine, brushing and untangling the tangles of your hair after you showered and changed to a comfortable bedroom attire.

Atsumu exits the shower half naked as usual, his hair damp as he ruffles the towel on it, he slowly approaches your side and dips down to kiss your naked shoulder, “Hey Y/N.” his voice is muffled and vibrating through your skin.

You hummed a reply, still brushing your hair.

“Why didn’t you marry Daiki?”

You paused mid-action and raised a brow at his sudden question, turning to him as he suddenly stood up straighter with his hand now replacing his lips, “Are you jealous?”

“Of course not,” he grumbles, he’s been married to you for two years already and everyday’s like a honeymoon phase that doesn’t end, why would he be jealous of that scrub? as if, “I’m just curious. The idiot’s good looking, rich, good with kids, and a full package. A blind man could admit that.”

“You're a full package too.” 

Atsumu narrows his eyes and shakes his head in disappointment, as if he was saying, really?

You chuckle in a low voice, “Because he’s like my psychiatrist, Atsumu.” You simply said, shaking your head as you turn back to the mirror, “Unlike you, Daiki found out about it accidentally and we weren’t on good terms before that when we were kids. He became nicer so you could say that we became friends because he pitied me.”

Atsumu blinks for a moment, taken aback by your explanation. 

“Growing up, the anxiety would eat me up that Daiki’s friendship and feelings all stemmed because he pitied me. You could never build a decent relationship with that, it wouldn’t be healthy.” you continued then you turned to him, “Remember what I said to you then? How I felt when I was with you?”

Atsumu slowly nods.

“You didn’t pry and that was probably the best and worst thing you ever did throughout our relationship in college.” You smiled softly, “I was never ready to tell you then and you didn’t force me at all. You just kept staying and loving me without knowing anything to the point where I took advantage of it.”

“Y/N-” He dryly starts, knowing where this is going.

“I know I shouldn’t apologize but it was toxic, atsumu.” You softly said, laughing, “I’m really sorry.”

“Well you gave your forgiveness in the form of kids and being my wife until I die, I think it turned out pretty well in the end.”

You cast him a glare in which he immediately raises his two hands, “Hey, we both had our downplays in the relationship. We’re not perfect, sweetheart.” he reassures you as he walks up to you and grabs a hold of your hand with a wedding ring on it, “But we try to improve, learn,and be the best for each other and for those two brat- i mean kids. ”

He proceeds to entangle your fingers with his, “I don’t regret it, ya know.”

“Yeah. I know.”

“I don’t regret hanging onto that girl who barely gave me the time of her day then. I don’t regret seeing ya on that random spring day where you give yourself heart palpitations or better yet, I don’t regret everything. I don’t regret any of that. I’d do that shit again if I get to be here now.” He reassures you, he never gets tired to remind you of that as he squeezes your hands.

You cut the serious moment with a laugh, Atsumu is happy these days because of how easy it is for you to be like this around him, “You’re batshit crazy.”

“I was expecting a confession too.” He feigned hurt, “You wound me, sweetheart.”

“You kind of are though.” You stop laughing,wiping the little tears on the side of your eyes, “You’re probably the only person who’d come back after that wretched heartbreak.”

“And you’re the only person who I’d do that to.” Atsumu sticks his tongue out as he tugs you to your shared bed, “Jus’ so ya know, Y/N. You’re impossibly hard to forget. If we never did end up together or if you ended up with Daiki, I think I’d focus on volleyball for the rest of my life.”

“I doubt it.”

Yet Atsumu doesn’t reply and just kisses your lips goodnight as he drags you back to bed, what you didn’t know was that he was telling the truth.

It was just you, the kids, and volleyball (and his brother).

taglist [officially closed, if you guys want to be removed for the side stories, feel free to tell me hehe ilyasm and thank you once again, coward wouldn’t be possible without all you people + other readers]

@fortheloveofiwaizumi​ ;  @svtbitch​  ; @kiyoomile​ ; @lovedanii​​ ; @juno-multifandom​​ ; @gyubit17​​ ; @saeranoppa​​ ; @nixxona​​ ; @kyomihann​​ @shorttstackk​​ ; @intoomuchfandoms​​ ; @yammmers​​ ; @mx-minxx​​ @itsmattsunshinehere​​ ; @missingmystogan​​ ; @volleybloop​​ ; @imcravingyou​​ ; @yams-wants-that-booty ; @liathachcapricious​​ ; @pinknugget​​ @seikamuzu​​ ; @marigoldthoughts​​ ; @sillykittt​​ ; @baejinoffcl​​ ; @alluring-akaashi​​ ; @bnhasstuff​​  ; @intheawks​​ ; @bokuakadaily​​ ; @agaassi​​ ; @yams046​​  ; @dope-squish ; @chrisrue15​​ ; @vermillionwaves​​ ; @demursv1ogs​​ ; @just-snog-already ; @angmarwitch​  ; @simpingonothers​ ; @woo-youngs​ ; @cowward​ ; @chaelysian​ ; @sempiternal-amour​ ; @jungshookmeup​ ; @jovialnoise​ ; @karlitabi-rrito​ ; @iwaizluv​ ; @sugarandsoft​ ; @tspice283​ ; @ohshirabu​ ; @syzygymai​ ; @volleybloop​ ; @oikaw-ugh​ ; @pockytokyo​ ;  @differentballooncollection​ ;  @keniloveshaikyuu​ ; @turquoiselace​ ; @playboygeniusphilanthropist​ ;   @keijislut​ ; @notyourbitchboy​​

@misosamu  @Etherynaw  @ryaaaax @allysasteaparty   @mikaashi  @brownie0food @ph10xy  @Chocolaterumble [hi, i can’t seem to tag u guys, i think you need to open your tags uwu]

[jae-daddy]

Play (2)

im jaebum mini series ft. jinyoung

one / two / three / four / five / six (final)  masterlist

pairing: jaebum x reader x jinyoung  genre: friends, angst, jealousy  plot: you and jaebum have been really great friends. things have been going smoothly because neither of you were in a real relationship, flings? sure, but girlfriends/boyfriends? no. so when Jaebum starts going out with Emma (a bitch), you can’t help but act out <3 a/n: I'm contemplating making this a jinyoung fic lol. hope y’all enjoy. thanks for all the love and support <3

Normally, people have a grand gesture or a classic tale of how they gained their best friend. You knew this because people love the tales of first meets. They love flaunting that badge of “we connected right away” or “I hated you at first, but now I can’t imagine life without you” bullshit and of the titles they give each other.

Okay, so that was a little hypocritical.

You had called Jaebum your best friend, but technically, you had thought it. Thinking it in your head shouldn't count, saying it out loud, on the other hand, should since it's disgustingly cringe.

But it was a fact, he was your best friend. However, there was no interesting story of your first meet or the moment you became friends. It just happened.

One day you went to a party, Jaebum was a friend of a friend. You met again at other parties, exchanged socials. You posted a picture of your now-dead dog, Jaebum replies saying “cute dog, but cats are better.”

You met up for drinks, talked, had fun.

And there, you both were now best friends.

You hated it when people asked for stories. You can’t remember the first moment you met everyone. There is no way anyone could ever possibly walk into a room, look at a random good-looking guy and be like-

“Yup, that’s the one, there’s the man of my dreams,” Emma swooned as she squeezed Jaebum’s hand on the dinner table lovingly. Jaebum glanced at her offering her a smile. His eyes met yours but didn’t stay because he could read your face, and just know that you were having none of this love at first sight bullshit.

“Jaebum told me that he felt the same way when he looked at me too,” Emma added, haughty. Her blue eyes gawked at you, smugly, showing off this apparent love of the century.

You bit your lip to stop the laugh threatening to come out. You turned your gaze away from her to Jaebum who looked away as soon as his eyes met yours. A small chuckle left you, “Did he?”

Sweet Jesus, he was such a fucking liar. The party they met, he was trying to hook up with Sarah from France. He’d only ended up with Emma because Sarah had chosen Jackson over him.

Love at first sight, sure.

“Oh that’s lovely,” the male beside you said. You turned to him, your lips in a thin smile as you gave him the eye.

“I thought I said no talking,” you leaned, whispering into his ears with a smile.

“Oh, don’t be ridiculous,” he chuckled back, pecking your lips.

Ew. PDA.

“You’re so funny,” he smiled at you.

Dickdown 9/10 really needs to stop acting like he is your man. This is not a real date. You had told him that when you told him to come and eat with your friends. You were careful not to use the word ‘date’ and had reminded him all through the car ride.

But it seemed like playing boyfriend was his dream.

“Aww,” the evil witch cooed from the other side of the table. She looked over at Jaebum, who glanced straight across at you. “Aren’t they just adorable babe?”

Jaebum gave her halfhearted snort-smile combo, but Emma ignored him and continued. She looked at Dickdown 9/10 sitting directly across from her and asked, “So how did you both meet?”

“We’re just hooking up,” you cut him off before he could begin. “You asked me to bring someone because apparently seeing me coming here by myself makes you feel so sad. So I have bought someone, a friend-”

“We fuck,” Dickdown objected from beside you.

“A friend who I fuck,” you added, shrugging still looking at her. “Don’t make this more than this is.”

You gave her a beautiful smile.

Bitch.

She smiled, reflecting the same energy back.

“I hope you find a love divine as Jaebum and I did,” she smiled at you.

“I hope I fall in love with a random hook up one day, too,” you smiled back. You held up the beer in your hand, “For falling in love with trivial one night stands.”

“To finding love,” Jaebum gave you a stern look, as he lifted his glass. He turned to Emma placing a kiss on her forehead. “Wherever destiny takes you.”

“Oh baby,” she cooed, and you almost threw up in your mouth.

“I liked your toast better,” Dickdown smiled at you, and you saw the image of riding him on top the table flash through your mind.

“You are getting your dick sucked tonight,” you told him through your eyes. You didn’t know if he got the message, but the promise was already made.

Jaebum chortled from across the table. You turned around to face him, quirking your eyebrows at him. Jaebum just snorted as he shook his head.

“See that was fun, wasn’t it?” Jaebum jeered as you stood outside the bar waiting for Dickdown 9/10 to come back with his car. He was being responsible and did not drink; a true gentleman.

“Yeah, so fun! I am absolutely devastated the night has come to an end,” you pouted at him, making him roll his eyes. You shook your head as you faced the front.

“This is going to be the rest of your foreseeable future, you know,” you told him, as you turned to look at him. He stared at you, intently, but you didn't look away. Instead, you peered into his eyes, trying to tell him to snap out of it. “Are you sure you’re going to be okay?”

“Yes, I am okay.” He grinned at you, as your face dropped, disappointed.

You were hoping that would scare him, but he didn’t mind this dull life.

“This is what your fun night looks like now, and statistically, it will only get worse, unless you bring in a third party for fun.”

“Are you volunteering?”

“Make it just us two and I’ll make it the perfect fun night.” You smirked back. Your breath quickened as his brooding brown eyes dropped down to your lips. You licked it instinctively.

Jaebum’s eyes met yours, flickering down to your lips once more before he smiled, rolling his eyes as he looked away, “Stop that.”

“Stop what?” You smiled, innocently. You knew exactly what you were doing, but you didn’t care.

“Stop flirting with me.”

“Such accusations,” you gasped.

You winked.

“My god, you’re such a flirt,” Jaebum laughed, looking out to the road. “This is why Emma worries when we are together. She just doesn’t get that this is a joke.”

What joke? You mean it.

Kinda.

“Emma would be jealous of a coconut tree if you stood too close to it, Jae,” you retorted, making him give you a pointed look. “That girl is loco.”

“You think too badly of her,” he smiled, nudging his shoulder against yours. “Once you get to know her, she’s not bad. You would like her.”

“I’m sure if people spent enough time with anyone, they’d start to like them. It’s probably a minute form of Stockholm syndrome,” you shrugged at him, facing the front. You noticed as Dickdown 9/10 bought the car around. “You couldn’t get away from her, so you decided to like her.”

“You’re crazy,” Jaebum told you, a smile on his lips. He watched as you walked away from him, towards the car. He followed a few steps behind you, “This guy seems like a dick. Who the fuck doesn’t drink at bars?”

“A responsible dick who has to drive me home, and will be rewarded with very nice dominated sexual acts,” you laughed when Jaebum grimaced. “Yeah, he’s a bit of a wanker, but he isn’t too bad.”

“What’s his name?” Jaebum asked. The car stopped a few feet away from you, you turned to face Jaebum with wide eyes. When you didn’t reply he smirked, “You don’t know his name.”

“I do,” you argued.

Fucking shit, you didn’t. He was Dickdown 9/10.

You cursed yourself, you should’ve listened when he introduced himself when you both walked in.

“He’s just a friend, Jae,” you drolled, giving him a shrug.

“I’m just a friend and you know my name.”

“But that’s cause I love you my pumpkin pie,” you gave him mocking smile, as you brought your hand to your heart. “Now, bye.”

“Text me when you get home,” he called out as you opened the passenger seat.

“You too!” You stuck out the window and waved him bye.

“They were nice,” Dickdown 9/10 said as he drove away. You turned over to him, a small smile on your lips.

You reached over undoing his pants.

“And you were a good boy tonight,” you leaned over, kissing his neck, “such a good boy.”

You leaned down, wetting your lips before it wrapped around his cock.

“Fuck,” he groaned.

//

Was this a bad thing that bad people normal did? Definitely.

You knew that you didn’t need another person’s advice or a search on Google to know that this was a bad idea. Out there in the world of other judging people, you would be called a home-wrecker, a whore or something along those lines of insults.

You would have been affected by those words if you were say, five years younger. But when they were the actual and honest truth, why not take it with grace.

It wasn’t like you were actually going to try to break Jaebum and his lovely bitch of a girlfriend Emma up. You were just going to like him and wait for them to break up, which they will inevitably for sure.

Until then, you just need to relax and chill.

And that started with getting rid of the arm wrapped around your waist so early in the morning.

You stared at your reflection in the mirror as you lay there with his front pressed against your back.

You should’ve gotten rid of him last night.

But he was so good at dinner, you felt bad telling him to go after he did that and lived up to his nickname, so you let him stay.

Still, it was time to wish him bon voyage.

But you had too. You couldn’t do relationships.

It’s better to end it now before he starts to think this is more.

“Next time just find someone on Tinder,” you thought to yourself as you glared at your reflection. At least if it is a stranger on Tinder you wouldn’t be losing the best dick you got after dinner with your friends. But it was time for all good things to end.

You removed his arms off you and sat up on your bed staring at him. He stirred a bit at first, and then went back to sleep.

You sighed, getting up from your bed. You grabbed a t-shirt lying around that ended on your mid-thigh. You looked around for something, and decided to open the curtains was the most annoying thing you could.

“What?” he groaned, his voice all sexy and sleepy. You turned around with the light streaming in from behind you. It was a wonderful sunny day, and his voice was making you want to get back in there and have good and deserving good-bye sex.

But you stood your ground and folded your arms across your chest, “Time to leave, bud.”

“Wow, no good morning,” he moaned, but got up nonetheless. You grabbed his clothes and handed them to him.

“Thank you for the wonderful times, you were amazing.”

“This sounds like a goodbye,” he snorted putting his shirt over his head.

You looked at him with a sad smile, “This is goodbye, forever.”

“Woah,” he frowned as you gave him his wallet and car keys.

“I think it’s only fair for you to know,” you gave him a supportive smile, “You were a solid nine out of ten. A true gifts from Heaven.”

“Why not a ten?” He asked, and you frowned thinking about it.

“You were great, so I don’t think the missing point is your fault,” you bit your lip contemplating.

“Maybe its cause you’re dead inside?” He smiled like he had done something.

You nodded, agreeing, “That’s probably it. Your dick is missing that one point because it couldn’t bring me back to live.”

“Well,” you kissed his cheek and pushed him out of your room. “Bye-bye.”

You closed your door and patted your back, “That wasn’t bad. That was very good.”

//

“Where’s your boy toy?” Jaebum asked as he paid the cashier for his coffee.

You frowned, “You’re making me sound like a cougar.”

“And that’s bad?”

“Definitely not, that is goals. But I am still in my twenties. If I was a cougar at this age, that would be illegal.” You told him before turning to the barrister to place your order.

“Hi, how may I help you?” The perky girl said, not looking up from the screen.

“A caramel Frappuccino,” you sang, rolling your tongue.

“God, you’re embarrassing.” Jaebum sighed from beside you.

“Hey-”

“That’ll be 7.50,” she pointed to the EFTPOS machine. You placed your card on it waiting for the beep. You looked up at the girl, getting the receipt, “Thank you.”

“How come you wanted to hang?” You asked Jaebum as you settled on a table towards the back of the cafe.

“Can't I just casually want to have a chat with you?”

“We’ve met three times already this week,” you rolled your eyes at his pout. “And asking me for coffee? That’s a bit formal.”

“Well, it is formal business,” Jaebum placed his intertwined fingers on the table with a proud smile. “I wanted to formally tell you that my book has been approved for a second viewing.”

“Oh my god!” You gasped, your eyes widening. You froze for a second, before chuckling, tears in your eyes. “Oh my god, that’s amazing. I’m so proud of you. You worked so hard. Oh my gosh-”

“I know,” he clasped your hand in his. He looked into your eyes, his eyes glistening as he gave you a sincere smile. “Thank you. I couldn’t have done it without you.”

“All I did was get you drunk,” you breathed, chuckling as you wiped your eyes before the tears ran free.

You were not going to cry in a cafe, no matter how fucking happy you were.

Jaebum just laughed, throwing his head back. He sobered and started explaining how he got told the notified, and what changes they wanted to make to the book.

“They want to change Persephone?” You frowned, she was your favourite.

“They said something about Greek mythology-”

“Duh.”

“And something about it being impressionable to young readers,” he bit his lips.

Before you could say anything, the waitress came with two cups and a piece of chocolate cake. You looked at her, managing to give her a tight smile, “Thank you.”

“Thank you,” Jaebum smiled at her, before looking at you. He stared at your frowning face and passed you a spoon. “Here.”

You took it off him and took a bite of the cake.

“I’m not going to let them,” he said after a moment.

You looked up, staring into his eyes as he looked at you with a knowing smile.

“I’ll go to another publisher if I have to, they can’t take her away.”

“Jae,” you sighed, moved by his words. Persephone was your character; the one you had helped build. She was like your child and fictional form at once. “You just saying that is enough. You don’t have to for me-”

“She was is my favourite, y/n,” he held your gaze, and your heart swelled. “It won’t be the same without her. I can’t.”

“It’ll work out,” you patted his hand. You spooned a piece of cake and held it to him. He took the bite, licking his lip as he leaned back into his seat.

“I hope so,” his eyes darted to the doors. He held up a hand as if to grab someone’s attention. You turned to find a very attractive male walking in. Jaebum continued from behind you, “That’s why I invited the editor for a meeting.”

You turned to Jaebum, wide-eyed, “What?!”

“Smile, he’s here.” Jaebum gave you a knowing look. “You helped build her, maybe your views and ideas would persuade him.”

“Hey, Jaebum,” the good-looking editor held out his hand. Jaebum got up shaking it.

“Mr Park,” Jaebum smiled politely.

“Jinyoung is fine,” he smiled, his eyes crinkling at the corners.

He was cute.

“This is y/n,” Jaebum gestured towards you. You just smiled, not sure if you should get up too. Jinyoung smiled, nodding, as he seated at the end of the four-sided table. “Have you ordered?”

“Yup, just as I walked in,” his voice was deep and soothing. “Do you want to talk around or get straight down to it?”

“Straight to it,” Jaebum snorted, both of them relaxing into their seats. The waitress placed the drink in front of Jinyoung, a blush blooming on her cheeks as he thanked her with a sweet smile.

You just sat back and watched him.

“I heard you have a problem with my suggestions?” He pulled out a few papers from his suitcase.

What a cunt carrying a suitcase, pretty handsome though.

“Well, that’s only because you want to get rid of arguably the most important character,” Jaebum laughed, but his tone tight.

One hour, a whole hour of going back and forth. You spent a good ten minute on a monologue of exactly why Persephone was a good character, and a great role model for young readers; especially girls.

“But would parents be comfortable with letting their kids read about a female-”

“Who fights, swears and chooses her sexual partners?” You cut him off raising an eyebrow at him. Jinyoung smiled at you, arrogantly, like what you were saying was of no value. “How are her actions any different to the male main character? Xavier does the same if not worse.”

“But parents, Miss-”

“Y/n is fine,” you smiled and continued. “Don’t be a pussy, Jinyoung. Parents don’t read books before giving them to their kids. And this is young adult, not primary school kids.”

You saw Jaebum still as he licked his lips, holding back a smile.

“Parents follow reviews,” Jinyoung’s smile grew as he leaned towards you, “Good parents do, at least.”

Red. You saw red.

“How about a compromise?” Jaebum said, making you both turn towards him. “Persephone stays, but only two partners; the rest stays the same.”

“I could convince the Board with that,” Jinyoung nodded, he glanced at you his lips quirking up. “Feminism sexuality isn’t defined by the number of people someone can sleep with. It’s about owning it. A smaller number but the same attitude will still get the same message across.”

You didn’t say anything.

What he said did make sense.

Shitty cunthead.

not edited

[brelione]

JJ X Reader X Rafe heacanons

The boys are both dating you, not eachother.

Am I gonna write a whole series with a polyamorous relationship between JJ, Rafe and the reader?Yes, yes I am.

You literally never get a break

When you’re not being fucked you’re out surfing with JJ or hanging out with Rafe

They’re so rough with you

JJ likes to spank and choke you while Rafe likes to overstimulate you and eat you out

“You like that, princess?”JJ asked, pounding into you hard while a bullet vibrator was pressed to your clit.Rafe was panting, getting himself off to the sight.You were moaning loudly, wanting nothing more than to tug at his blonde hair but your wrists were tied to the bed. “JJ!”You moaned, clenching around him for the third time that night.He sighed, pressing a kiss to your collarbone and pulling out, staring down at you.He looked over to Rafe, raising an eyebrow.Surprisingly Rafe was the more gentle out of the two, replacing the spot that JJ had once occupied.He pressed a few gentle kisses to your lips, untying your wrists so you could touch him.Your hands went to his hair, thumbs caressing his cheekbones as he slowly slid into you, smiling at the sound of your moans.JJ was getting his pants back on, watching your reactions to Rafe’s touch.The older boy was moving slowly, face in the crook of your neck as he whispered that he loved you over and over again, knowing it wouldnt take much to get you to another orgasm between him and the vibrator. “Rafe.”You whimpered, nails scratching up his back as you came, panting.He licked his lips before pulling out, kissing your forehead. “You’re such a good girl for us.”He whispered, rubbing your jaw with his thumb.You sighed softly, too tired to move.JJ grinned, walking over to leave a small kiss on your nose. “He’s right, babe.You’re the best.”He smiled, heading into the bathroom to run you a bath.

Believe it or not they were pretty romantic

They loved to take you on dates.Usually to a diner for pancakes or on a small picnic on the beach.

Rafe was a lot like a sugar daddy to you

The three of you often went to stores like Victoria Secret so your boys could pick things out for you.JJ loved to see you in pretty lace bras and panties, loving when you wore the bluish gray set he had picked out for you.At this point you had more bras and panties than actual clothes.

The way that they kissed you was completely different.JJ was the roughest when it came to sex but his kisses were so gentle, often smiling when he pulled away.Rafe was a little more rough, liking to press you up against the wall or stand between your legs when he kissed you, squeezing your jaw lightly.

You never had to deal with lack of attention.You got at least ten hugs every day, forehead kisses and light make out sessions on your couch as random movies played in the background.

Cuddling with them was always fun.They always cuddled with you after sex, resting on JJ’s chest while Rafe’s arm was wrapped around your waist with his head on your shoulder.

They loved to fuck you but if you werent in the mood they were always down for cuddles

JJ’s hand moved up your thigh and over your clothed clit, pressing down lightly.His attention was still on the tv, Rafe was at a family dinner so he was unable to make it.You frowned, gripping JJ’s hand and pulling it away, rubbing your thumb on his hand.His eyebrows furrowed, looking up at you with a questioning expression. “Im too tired.”You told him, leaning against his shoulder.He sighed,gripping your waist and pulling you onto his chest, rubbing your back. “Then take a nap.”He told you, pressing a kiss to your forehead.

You were the one that had gotten them to finally get along.It had been at a kook party that you just happened to be at.You and JJ had a bit of a flirtatious relationship but you knew that Rafe had a thing for you.You and JJ had ended up in a heated makeout session, ending up in a random room.He had forgotten to lock the door, Rafe walking in a few moments later with wide eyes. “You gonna stare or are you gonna join us?”You asked, seeing how JJ was shocked.Rafe was going to decline the offer, not even wanting to be near JJ.But the look on your face and your naked body pressed against the bed of his guest room was too much for him to resist.

From that night on you three had a relationship, the two of you eventually feeling comfortable to call you their girlfriend.

The Pogues had met you when JJ introduced you as his girlfriend.They had taken a liking to you, understanding why he liked you so much.

But then Kiara saw you and Rafe kissing at the beach and her heart broke.She thought that you were cheating on JJ.

She had brought it up to him, surprised when he laughed. “Yeah, no.We share her.”He had explained, not saying anything else.

You guys got a few strange looks in public but none of you cared that much

Topper couldnt understand how Rafe could handle that sort of relationship.Rafe had always been the jealous type so it was unbelievable that he could even stand the thought of you kissing another guy.

Most nights were spent in your house since your parents were hardly ever home

Whenever they were home the three of you would stay in the guest house.The two boys would sneak in in the middle of the night, waiting patiently for you.You’d wait until your parents were asleep to sneak out into the back and see them, trying your best to be quiet.

They loved the softer parts of the relationship like baking and dancing in the living room

Once JJ finally teaches you how to surf all you want to do is teach Rafe

Rafe slowly started to not hate JJ, becoming rather protective over the pogue

You were the bridge that conjoined the kooks and the pogues, the three of you eventually becoming comfortable enough to show up to events together

You,JJ and Rafe had all went to Midsummers together.JJ’s arms were around your shoulders, chin on your head while Rafe held you by your waist.

The kooks stopped messing with JJ a few months into your relationship

Your drawers were full of your boyfriends’ hoodies, pants and t shirts

After a year of the three of you being together Rafe had bought you a necklace with an ‘R’ and a ‘J’ on it

They liked when you wore it as they fucked you

JJ really liked to touch you in non sexual ways

kissing your cheeks, braiding your hair, carrying you on his back, forehead kisses, cuddling, showering together

The Pogues even started to like Rafe, the boy often making appearances at John.B’s house.

You, JJ and Rafe would cuddle in the hammock while the others sat by the fire

It took a while for them to finally accept Rafe.He had told you how stressed he was, really wanting them to like him so that he could be around you as much as possible.It took a lot of Mountain Dew, chips, brownies and sandwhiches for them to finally warm up to him.

The three of you often stayed up late at night to talk about your future together.JJ would become excited by the idea of enjoying the kook life with you.

You guys often talked about children and who would get you pregnant.

“We should have two.Rafe gets one and I get one.”JJ grinned, kissing your forehead.You shook your head. “Nope, im not giving birth twice.”You answered.

You guys eventually decided that animal children were better than human children

You’d giggle whenever you saw JJ wearing Rafe’s shirt or vise versa

Rafe eventually started to shop for JJ too, finding out that you loved to see JJ wearing white tanktops.He had bought a few of them, picking out a few dress shirts as well and giving them to JJ when you were out grabbing food. “Im telling you, if you wear these she’s gonna be soaked.We’re gonna get so much.”Rafe insisted, becoming excited by the thought.He was right.The two of them fucked you for hours that night.

Grocery shopping together

The two of them fighting over the last bag of hot cheetos, Rafe standing on his tip toes and holding it high up in the air.

“Guys, theres another bag.”You told them, the two of them pouting.Rafe ended up carrying you on his back with JJ in the cart, running through the store.

“I love you” X 900

If one of them spent the night you’d wake up to little notes on your nightstand

Christmas with them was immaculate

Rafe had gotten JJ a monster hoodie, a big smile when he watched the pogue unwrap it.JJ had gotten him a chain, the two of them standing up. “Bro!”JJ exclaimed, hugging the boy that had once been his enemy. “Dude.”Rafe chuckled, hugging back.

@nas-marie-loves-u @28cnn @sexytholland  @yuxsh06   @ifilwtmfc  @cherryobx @poguestarkey @n1ghtsh4d3-67  @poguestyleskye @judayyyw  @sunwardsss @meaganjm @sarcasticsagittarius1998 @jj-fic-recs @homophobicclownmoviestan @jj-iz-bae @natalie-kate-98 @negativity4you @nxsmss @ofmaybankheart @broken-jj @joshy-obx  @curroptbunnie @outerbnx-stiles @angelreyesgirl100  @hannahhh-marie @sadnessrehab @purple-vodka-99 @annmariek8 @harryswigss @imagines-07 @sexytholland @28cnn  @popcrone818 @fttayla @cherryobx @n1ghtsh4d3-67 @drewstarkeyobx @poguestyleskye @judayyyw @jjtheangel @jj-iz-bae@sunwardsss @meaganjm  @sarcasticsagittarius1998 @natalie-kate-98 @nxsmss @broken-jj @joshy-obx @prejudic3 @annmariek8 @imagines-07 @outerbongs  @copper-boom  @httpstarkey @teenwaywardasgardian @drewswannabegirl  @simonsbluee   @jiaraendgame  @khiaraaa-in-spacee  @on-socks-off  @abbiesthings @kindahavefeelingskindaheartless @i-love-scott-mccall

[cuddlesslut]

Alrighty lets get started!! So i still really new to this so as to not overwhelm my self im going to try and stick to two charcters for now. I’m sorry if its not what your looking for. For the two im going to do my boys Suga and Daichi. Only because i just did Kuroo and  because im still trying to figure out how to write for Reon. I might however come back and write a part 2 with them. 

Prompt : Boys reacting to their tom boyish crushes all dolled up (Daichi & Suga)

just sayin i wrote this while drinking mojitos

P.S. this prompt reminds me of a series called Sinful Sweethearts by @thosenerdy3amthings​ so definitely go check that out!!

Warning: NSFW, FOUL LANGUAGE

Daichi Sawamura NSFW

you have know Daichi basically your whole life

growing up next to him your parents were very close which meant that you two were kept close together 

in fact until you made it to middle school and started playing volleyball for the girls team you had never had any other friends beside Diachi

so it was safe to say that growing up you were more on the boyish side

you were just more comfortable in sweats and baggy workout shorts than skirts. 

you even wore pants to school

even  highschool though you went to a different school Diachi stayed your closest friend you often finding yourself at the Karsuno practice after yours had ended.

 No matter how much your teammates fussed they couldnt convince you to ditch the large hoodies and sweats.

 You and Daichi always supported each other. you never missed his games and he never missed yours (as long as scheduling permited)

the third year boys often teased Diachi for his realtionship with you

“i dont know why yall dont just date already,” suga complained while daichi stated his usual reply “ shes my best friend you know its not like that” he huffs

Suga scowls “ first of all rude im supposed be your best friend, and second it cant be as just friends as you say when you get so protective when the seond years simp for her.”

“i just dont want her feeling weird around the team. you know Noya and Tanaka can be intense,” he explained

“still that doesnt acount for the way Y/N looks at you,” Asahi added to the convo

“what are you talking about Y/n doesnt look at me any special way, we’re just friends ,” daichi stated a little to forcefully almost as if he was convincing himself.

Suga and Asahi share a knowing look thinking about how their captain can be so dense. 

“any way are you ready for your  birthday party tomorrow night ,” Suga asked smiling brightly.

“i told you i dont need a party,” Daichi scolded for the fifth time today.

“ahh c’mon its not everyday you become an adult like the rest of us DI,”

finally admitiing defeat Diachi concluded the conversation.

...

it was finally the next day you were more nervous for this party than any volleyball game you had played.

and here you were standing in the tight black dress Suga with the help of your team, you should never wager against suga

Had convinced you to wear to diachis party tonight

still shell shocked you stood in front of the mirror of the bathroom Suga had chose.

It was weird to see yourself so girly

the black dress clung tight   to your body. leaving little the imagination.

Suga better be glad he won that bet

finally calming yourself you look around for your best friend

Finally catching sight of him Diachi stood with Suga and Asahi next to the bar of the club.

Suga was the first to recognize you a evil smirk hitting his face as he drew Diachis attention to you.

You couldnt help but notice how hot he looked in his button up and dark wash jeans, his shirt clinging so close to his chest.

he looked to damn good you thought as you bit your lip

little did you know the birthday boy was having an epiphany of this own

his eyes raked up and down you mind wandering 

had you always had such a great ass under those baggy sweats

“Happy Birthday Captain,” you teased.

Daichi took a sharp breath suddenly taken back by the way the title fell from your soft lips

all he could think about was how you would sound screaming that from under him.

lost in thought he missed the smirk his best friend had as Suga put his pan into motion

you stood there sway to the beat of the loud club music wanting to dance

“Y/n why dont you take the birthday boy for a dance,” 

you smiled before Diachi could protest saying how how he doesnt dance

you pulled him to the dance floor pushing your ass against him reaching up and wrapping your arms around his neck pulling him close to your body as you grinded to the beat

his hands found their place on your hips  

his cock twitched from the pressure of your ass in that short tight dress rubbing against his crotch

you were not helping his growing situation

bodies getting lost in the movement 

you looked up at the boy had been your best friend your whole life with one thought in you head

the same thought flashed into diachis brain

being bold he crashed his lips into yours 

Lost in the contact the kiss lasted forever getting more and more intense 

your not sure how you to got here

but here you were straddling Diachi in the back of his car

his lips sucking bruises into your neck, his large grabbing your ass as you bounced on his thick cock

“FUCK,” Daichi breathed heavily pulling you down into a sloppy kiss tongues exploring “ youre so tight come for me beautiful.”

“im so close Captain you moan feeling him stretch you.

thats it that one word flipped the switch for him he gripped tight on to your waist to hold you secure as he powerfully drilled his hips up into you.

hitting your spot deeper and with such accuracy you were both driven over the edge as you clinched tight around him pulling his release from him.

you both sat out of breath in the hot car, the widows fogged and the smell of sex stinging the air.

“happy birthday,” you said giving him a quick kiss.

he glanced at the watch on his wrist 

he smirked up to you “you know my birthday isnt over yet,” you smiled already liking where this was going. “lets head back to mine. I’m not done with you yet.” 

Koshi Sugawara Slight NSFW

He’s had a crush for you since the beginning of the school year

He thought you were the most adorable thing he’d seen 

with your sweaters that were  two sizes to big. (sweater paws)

You two became friends through a writing project. 

you too quickly hit it off you loving his wild humor 

its sometimes seemed like hed flirt with you but you figured it was just his personality and you were too shy to do anything

poor suga spent so much time flirting with you but you never paid it any attention so he figured you didnt view him that way and he was okay with that he just wanted to be your friend if nothing else.

and so thats how six months went by of being no more than friends

always returning Sugas simple firsts with a shy smile.

It wasnt until the celebratory party some random third year threw to congratulate the boys on making it to nationals

You sat at your best friend Kyioko’s house. 

This was the first party she was able to convince you to attend and she was making sure it counted.

there would be no big sweaters or jeans tonight 

tonight you were borrowing Kyiokos clothes. 

She dressed in a tight (favorite color) lace halter crop top with the lace exposing just the right amount of cleavage. and a pair of blaack shorts hugging your hips thighs on full display.

it wasnt what you were used to this being the most skin you had exposed to the public in years

thats coupled with the make up added to your face you almost didnt recognize yourself

it wasnt what you were used to and thats why when you reached the party and all eyes landed on you. you were slightly relieved that most of the people didnt recognize you.

it was almost exhilarating 

kind of like playing pretend.

like tonight you werent Y/N shy and closed off

you were a sexy and confident woman

that coupled with the shots you took with Kyioko. you found your new confidence 

thats why when you saw you long time crush and close friend Suga across the room you didnt hesitate to make your way over.

“No way is that Y/n” Daichi gasped causing Sugas attention to slip to where his best friend motioned. “wow i didnt expect to see her here,” Diachi let out with a low whistle.

Suga sucked in a sharp breath not prepared for the sight in front of him.

There you were making you way towards him throw the crowd. a smile on your face but it was hard for suga to focus on that smile when your whole body was on display for him. 

 His eyes trailed from down your figure taking all of the exposed skin that was normally hidden from him. 

the way the lace framed your stomach and cupped your breast. the cut into shirt showing him the most cleavage you had ever shown. moving his eyes down it was hard for him not to whimper at the site of your thighs

this man was entranced in your appearance. hed always thought you were the most beautiful even when you were covered head to toe, but seeing you like this it was hard not to drool.

And he wasnt the only one, Several guys had taken notice of you.

Some stopping you to ask if you were new,  cause there was no way’d theyd miss a hot babe like you at school. 

to which youd just roll your eyes keeping on your way to your target. 

feeling more and more emboldened by the attention you were receiving.

but these boys werent the ones you wanted

being the light weight you are you already had your eyes on your prize

go big or go home 

so you you strode right up to the vice captain

“ W- wow Y/n you look great,” Suga stuttered 

“thanks Suga,” you say placing your hand on his toned forearm

No turning back now the confidence was here to stay atleast for now

Suga took a deep breath as he took a turn being the shy one. not used to the aura you exuded. were you really the shy girl he knew. 

you moved closer enveloping him in a tight embrace

he could feel you tits press tight against him and he was trying not to focus on it not wanting to further anymore of the dirty thoughts crossing his mind

 staying close next to Suga you continued your flirtatious assault

dishing back all the flirts you had held back over the months

Finally the straw broke when one of your favorite club songs played through the crowed house and you pulled him close to dance with you.

“c’mon Koshi dont be so timid,” you teased. 

Suga wasnt sure if it was hearing his given name grace your beautiful lips or the facts that you had pressed your ass against his crotch moving seductively to the music but he snapped. 

Suga placed his hands tight to your hips pulling you closer to him not caring if you felt the growing bulge in his pants.

leaning down “you know if you wanted my attention you didnt have to dress so damn sexy. now i have to deal with all these vultures looking at you,” he whispered his breath hot on your ear.

you turned around wrapping your arms around his neck leaning even closer, 

“then why dont we go somewhere private then we wont have to worry about who’s looking,” you smirked heart racing

“i couldnt have said it better,” Suga said leading you out of the busy room ready to have you to himself. 

🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻

Sorry It took so long to write all my work got deleted and I had to start over! I hope you enjoy it 🍵 Anon!!! 💕💕 @🍵anon

Taglist: @emiyummy @insomniish

[inthedayswhenlandswerefew]

But You Can Never Leave [Chapter 18: Summers In Florence] [Series Finale]

A/N: If it doesn’t end with a wedding, is it even my fic??! 😂 For those who somehow haven’t yet read Baby You Were My Picket Fence (my most popular series), you might be a tiny bit confused during this chapter. Just roll with it. 😉 Also, COVID-19 doesn’t exist. What a wonderful world. Thank you so much for sticking with me and BYCNL. I love you all. ��

This series is a work of fiction, and is (very) loosely inspired by real people and events. Absolutely no offense is meant to actual Queen or their families.

Song inspiration: Hotel California by The Eagles.

Chapter warnings: Language.

Chapter list (and all my writing) available HERE

Taglist: @queen-turtle-boiii​ @loveandbeloved29​ @maggieroseevans​ @imnotvibingveryguccimrstark​ @im-an-adult-ish​ @queenlover05​ @someforeigntragedy​ @imtheinvisiblequeen​ @joemazzmatazz​ @seven-seas-of-ham-on-rhye​ @namelesslosers​ @inthegardensofourminds​ @deacyblues​ @youngpastafanmug​ @sleepretreat​ @hardyshoe​ @bramblesforbreakfast​ @sevenseasofcats​ @tensecondvacation​ @queen-crue​ @jennyggggrrr​ @madeinheavxn​ @whatgoeson-itslate​ @brianssixpence​ @simonedk​ @herewegoagainniall​ @anotheronewritesthedust1​ @pomjompish​ @writerxinthedark​ @culturefiendtrashqueen​ @allauraleigh​ ​@deakydeacy @bluutac​ @johndeaconshands​ @nyxaura​

It’s May 25th, 1984, and Roger and John are in Perth, Australia to promote Queen’s eleventh album, The Works.

Interviewer, daytime television host Ronald Inglewood: “Good morning and welcome to our viewers across Australia! We’re sitting down this morning with Roger Taylor and John Deacon, respectively the drummer and bassist of Queen, who are here to talk about the band’s brand new album called—quite self-assuredly, if I may say so, gentlemen—The Works. Hello to you both.”

Roger: “Good morning, Ron!”

John: “Hello.”

Interviewer: “And this latest album has been rather well-received so far, is that right?”

Roger: “It has, yes, and we’re enormously proud of it.”

Interviewer: “Now, The Works is a very different album than Hot Space, Queen’s sort of notorious foray into disco...do you think the back-to-basics, classic rock and roll feel of The Works has been the driving force behind its success?”

Roger: “Well, you know...I think experimentation is very important. We’ve always been an experimental band. The single Bohemian Rhapsody was hugely experimental, and that’s why it was such a phenomenon. We were experimenting long before A Night At The Opera, and I suspect we’ll keep on trying new things until we run out of ideas, whenever that is! I didn’t love every song on Hot Space, I’ll be completely transparent about that, but I certainly don’t think the album was a failure or a waste of time. It was an experiment. And The Works is an experiment as well, just one that runs in a different vein, I suppose.”

John: “Some people did actually enjoy Hot Space.”

Roger: “I think I know one or two.”

Interviewer: “Of course, it did have its bright spots. Under Pressure remains one of Queen’s biggest hits, doesn’t it?”

Roger: “Yes, and John wrote the bassline for that one!”

Interviewer: “Really?!”

John: “And Roger has his own hit on The Works, at last. We’re all very happy for him.”

Roger: “Only took ten years.”

John: “Fourteen, actually.”

Roger: “I’m going to murder you as soon as we get backstage.”

John: “You’re welcome to try.”

Interviewer: “Now this hit of yours, Roger, is Radio Ga Ga. And I’m sure we’ve all seen the famous music video, the hovercraft, the futurism, the clapping...we’ve all seen it, right? Where on earth did you get the idea for that song?”

Roger: “It actually originated from something I heard my daughter Violet say.”

Interviewer: “Fascinating! And you’ve just welcomed another one recently, haven’t you?”

Roger: “Yes, last month, in fact. A little girl named Nora. “

Interviewer: “Congratulations!”

Roger: “Thanks so much, Ron. Our eldest, Violet, turned two in January, and the idea for Radio Ga Ga came about when she was first learning to talk. She would always stumble around—you know how babies do—clapping her hands and squealing the most nonsensical things, and one day she started trying out ‘radio’ and then adding random words to it, ‘radio goo goo,’ ‘radio mama,’ ‘radio dada,’ etcetera. Well ‘radio ga ga’ got stuck in my head and I started sort of lamenting how television had begun to eclipse the radio as a medium for music and entertainment. We were on vacation in California at the time, and I locked myself in a hotel room with a keyboard and a drum machine to get it written. I initially thought it might end up on one of my solo albums, but then John heard it and wrote a bassline, and Freddie really thought it could be a hit and pushed to have it on The Works...and here we are today!”

Interviewer: “That Freddie Mercury has awfully good instincts about these things, doesn’t he?”

John: “Oh, he’s a genius, no doubt about that.”

Interviewer: “And John, I understand you wrote the other single released from The Works, I Want To Break Free. Any deep philosophical messaging in that one?”  

John: “Well I suppose we’ve all been in situations that feel...rather constraining or hopeless. And then things that bring us back to life again. So this song is about a character going through that process and coming out on the other side.”

Interviewer: “Indeed.”

John: “But we wanted to keep things amusing and lighthearted in the music video, hence the dressing in drag bit. And to our absolute horror, Roger was very alluring as a schoolgirl.”

Roger: “It’s true. I have irresistible legs. I was born to wear miniskirts.”

Interviewer: “Ah, this is the music video that is beloved in Europe and here in Australia but has stirred up so much controversy over in the States. Has the hullabaloo dampened your enthusiasm for the song, or even the entire album, somewhat?”

Roger: “We’re not bothered much at all, to be honest with you. It’s like I said, Queen is always going to have fun and experiment and take creative risks. And if people don’t like it, then they’re welcome to not listen.”

Interviewer: “Yes, yes, I suppose you could say that.”

Roger: “Americans, you know, they can just be so bloody puritanical. It absolutely takes all the enjoyment out of life. All the humor. Americans these days can be very difficult for us to connect with.”

John: “Well, not all of them.”

Roger: “No, of course, not all of them.”

John: “But we’ll start touring at the end of August, and we’ll be spending several months in the States, so they have time to come around to us. We’re all really looking forward to being on the road again.”

Interviewer: “It has certainly been and will continue to be a very eventful year for Queen. And for the four of you personally. A new baby for Roger, and you’ve just gotten married, haven’t you John?”

John: “I did, yes. And Roger was in attendance! No miniskirt that day, though. Sadly.”

Roger: “The whole band was there. And my girlfriend and children too. It was quite a party.”

Interviewer: “That’s wonderful to hear, considering the...the...well, not to bring up tabloid gossip, but the complexity of the situation. It was a destination wedding, wasn’t it?”

John: “Yes, we were married in the Basilica di Santa Croce in Florence, Italy. It’s breathtaking, the largest Franciscan church in the world, built in the 1300s. And we filled it with friends and family and live music and flowers and food...all the trappings. Took about a million photos. Celebrated until dawn.”

Roger: “It was a very sentimental occasion. Everyone really enjoyed it. John cried.”

John: “I did, it’s true.”

Roger: “He promised he wouldn’t and then he did.”

John: “Well, you don’t have to bring it up all the time!”

Roger: “It was touching, really.”

Interviewer: “It must have been a magical time. You’re positively radiant, John! Marvelous. And some much-needed good news, I imagine. I understand you’ve recently gone through an exceptionally antagonistic and protracted divorce.”

John: “Well...uh...I suppose that’s...uh...”

Roger: “How about we ask you the same thing? How was your divorce, Ron?”

Interviewer: “What?”

Roger: “You’re on your third marriage, is that right? And I think I heard that the latest Mrs. Inglewood is very young indeed, almost thirty years your junior. How did your former wife take that news? How did your adult children? How was your goddamn divorce?”

Interviewer: “That’s a rude question.”

Roger: “Yes, you’re right, it’s an extremely rude question. So you shouldn’t fucking ask it.”

~~~~~~~~~~

It’s December 25th, 1986, and the children are tearing open presents under a fifteen-foot-tall Christmas tree in the living room of Garden Lodge.

Freddie and Jim Hutton are serving cookies and milk and clapping their hands as they tower over tiny shoulders, cheering the kids on as they litter the floor with wrapping paper and bows and scatter their new toys everywhere: Care Bears, Magic 8 Balls, My Little Ponies, Mr. Potato Heads, Barbies, Etch-A-Sketches, Transformers, miniature Lukes and Leias and Chewbaccas, View-Masters with scenes of oceans and deserts and forests and stars. With so many fragmented families, there was only one logical approach to handling major holidays: convincing everyone to celebrate together on neutral ground.

Mary and Veronica are chatting by the roaring fireplace. Phoebe, Joe Fanelli, John, and Roger are embroiled in a brutally competitive Scrabble game; Dominique, smirking stealthily, leans over Roger to read his tiles and periodically whispers ideas to him. Brian and Anita are circling the flock of giggling children—Laszlo, Anna, Teddy, Evelyn, Lena, Antoni, Violet, and Nora—and snapping photos with your Canon between long, yearning gazes at one another, wearing matching Christmas sweaters that are a deep, passionate crimson. Chrissie’s husband Denny is admiring Freddie’s extensive vinyl record collection as he sips a hot chocolate and compulsively strokes his green-and-red striped tie. Tiffany the cat rolls around between his feet and occasionally hisses or gnaws on an ankle, which Denny takes in stride, as he does most things.

Meanwhile, you and Chrissie are camped out by the wet bar, drinking mulled wine and nibbling on cookies shaped like snowmen and reindeer. You give Veronica a wide berth with the children anytime you’re in the same space; she hates you, and she’ll probably always hate you, but she loves her children too much to poison them with that reality. Their happiness is her whole life, her purpose. And that’s the only thing that finally convinced her to come to the bargaining table.

“She seems...nice,” you tell Chrissie, gesturing to where Anita is crouching to wrestle a Yoda piggy bank away from Antoni before he can lob Teddy on the head with it. To John’s children, Veronica is “mum” and you’re the distinctly more American “mama”; and no one ever really taught them that, they just started doing it somewhere along the way.

Chrissie rolls her eyes and shifts Stevie to her other hip. For two and a half years after leaving Brian, Chrissie made it her mission to date at least one man from every country in Europe. She managed to cross off Ireland, France, Germany, Austria, Italy, Sweden, Switzerland, Portugal, Poland, and Greece before meeting professional archer Dennis Clarke at the 1984 Olympics in Los Angeles. They got engaged at Christmas, eloped on New Year’s Day, and had a daughter that Chrissie named after Stevie Nicks nine months later. Stevie Clarke has adorably chubby baby legs, wide blue eyes, and blonde hair without a single spiraled ringlet.

“My therapist said I needed to cultivate a rapport with Brian for the good of the kids,” Chrissie says. “You know. Be the bigger person. Get amnesia and forget about how he made my life a living hell. Act like I don’t want to freaking decapitate him. So I, trying to be nice, trying to rise above and make polite small talk with my nauseating ex-husband, made a comment about how much I liked EastEnders. So he starts watching EastEnders. Then he begins to fancy one of the actresses. Then he meets her at a movie premier in Beverly Hills and invites her to the concert at Wembley. Then he ends up in love with the woman. What the fuck. You couldn’t write this shit.”

“Love is a roulette wheel,” you agree.

Chrissie scoffs sardonically. “Yeah. Russian roulette, maybe.”

After his marriage fell apart, Brian bounced between New Orleans and London, liberated bliss and aimless, disgraced, black depression. Whoever Peaches is as a person, she couldn’t tame Brian’s demons. You worried about him almost constantly until he started seeing Anita. She’s cheerful and magnetic and persistently hopeful in a way that reminds you of Roger. She’s good for Brian. She’s good for all of you. Well...Chrissie is still coming around to the idea.

“I do like that she wasn’t fucking my husband behind my back,” Chrissie muses. “So that’s something.”

“And she’s good with the kids.”

“True...”

“And her hair matches Brian’s.”

Chrissie laughs. Her sparkling ornament earrings jangle, and Stevie paws for them with minuscule, uncoordinated, wrinkly hands. “Okay. You win. I don’t despise her.”

“That’s the Christmas spirit.” You knock back the rest of your mulled wine. “I’m gonna go search the refrigerator for cheese cubes, you want anything?”

“Yeah, a Valium.”

“Slavic Jesus would be horrified. And on his birthday!”

Chrissie grins. “Surely drugs would be the least of our sins.”

Freddie’s sunshine-yellow refrigerator is enormous and a labyrinth of shelves and crevices without a single tray of cheese cubes in sight. You sift through jars of olives, bottles of champagne, a glazed ham waiting to be put in the oven, a sack of yams, eggnog, rising bread dough, and numerous pies—apple and cherry and lemon chiffon, naturally—swathed in aluminum foil.

“Damn,” you mutter, and then you try a mysterious drawer beneath the double doors of the refrigerator. Lo and behold, it contains a sprawling tray of cheeses. “Yaaaaassssss.” You lift the tray out, set it on the kitchen counter, and peel back the clear, clinging saran wrap. As you spear cheese cubes with a decorative toothpick—the handle is a little plastic Christmas tree—and plop them onto an appetizer plate, you hear the click of heels on the hardwood floor behind you.

You glance back. “Hi, Dom. Can I offer you any of Fred’s extremely expensive and exotic cheeses?”

“Sure,” she replies in that effortlessly elegant French accent; but that’s not why she’s here. She’s wringing her delicate hands, which are bronzed from her last holiday to Ibiza and ringless. Dom divorced the husband she had back in France—or maybe he divorced her, who knows, that’s not your business, although Roger would tell you if you ever asked—and she and Roger signed papers for the good of their daughters. But being Roger Taylor’s wife is not always such an easy thing.

“He’s getting bad again, isn’t he?” you ask softly.

Dominique nods; but you already knew.

Roger was perfect for years after they had Violet: attentive, content, startlingly domestic. He rarely popped pills. He went to physical therapy. He quit smoking six months ago at Dominique’s insistence, around the same time John quit for you. But since the Magic Tour ended in August—and with no new tour in sight, considering Freddie’s seeming reticence about scheduling another—he’s started to drink more, stay home less, disappear at night citing dinners or parties or recording sessions that Dom isn’t invited to. He’s edgy and irritable. He’s rarely home when John calls. And you can see all those immortal shadows of imperfection creeping back into him like storm clouds, like smoke.

“I’m going to tell you something,” you say. “It’s very similar to what somebody else once told me. I wasn’t ready to understand it yet, to really let myself feel it, to believe it, but you might be able to.”

She watches you with those vast oil-well eyes, biting her lower lip, waiting.

“Roger is wildfire. He’s bright, yes, he’s warm, but he’s reckless and insatiable too. He always has been. He always will be. And that has nothing at all to do with you. It’s not your fault. He’s wonderful, of course, and you already know that; he dazzles people, he makes life so exhilaratingly beautiful that you forget what it felt like without him. But he’ll always disappoint you. He’ll relapse, he’ll cheat, he’ll come home late, he won’t come home at all. And he’ll hurt you. He’ll do it as many times as you’ll let him. But here’s the thing other people won’t tell you.” You smile at her, with empathy, with sorrow, with hope. “It might still be worth it.”

Dominique blinks, not understanding.

“It might be enough for you to only ever have part of him, because that part is so incredibly brilliant. It was almost enough for me. And I would never blame you for leaving Roger. But I wouldn’t blame you for staying either.”

And then you embrace her, and she latches onto you, her long manicured nails nipping through your sweater, her Coco Chanel perfume a plume that fills the kitchen. She doesn’t say anything. She doesn’t have to. You hold her until she pulls away, swiping at her tearing eyes with slim fragile fingers, sniffling, looking away to hide her heartbreak behind her shock of glossy bangs.

“Here.” You pile an appetizer plate high with cheese cubes and shove it into her hands.

Stunned, she giggles. “All my woes have vanished.”

“That’s exactly how stolen cheese works,” And then, seriously: “Don’t be sad on Christmas, Dom. There’s plenty of time for that later. And I’ll do everything I can to help him.”

“That’s why you’ll never leave the band, isn’t it? You can’t leave Roger alone. You can’t let him destroy himself.”

“I owe him,” you say simply. “Without him I never would have followed Queen to London. I never would have found this family. I never would have married John. Roger took things from me, yes, of course he did. He took until I felt empty. But he also gave me the world.”

She nods slowly, thoughtfully.

“Please, Dom. Go enjoy yourself.”

“Alright. Joyeux Noël.” She gives you a parting wave and slips back out into the living room, where Freddie is now playing the grand piano and signing Thank God It’s Christmas. Roger is assisting in an increasingly hoarse falsetto.

A moment after Dominique leaves, John strolls into the kitchen, humming merrily. He stops dead when he sees your somber face, your shining eyes. “Who do I have to fuck up?”

You chuckle and shake your head. “No one. I just heard something sad.”

“Not about you, I hope.”

“No, I don’t have many sad stories anymore.”

“Yeah, me either.”

He reaches out to take your hand. A sapphire glints on your left ring finger, and it means everything.

“You sure you don’t need me to torment anyone for you? I could get drunk and plow my Benz into their house. Or write a scathing diss track about them. Was it Brian? Please tell me it was Brian.”

You laugh and twirl a lock of his fluffy hair. “That won’t be necessary.”

“In that case, you’re needed in the living room immediately,” John says, smiling. “Antoni climbed halfway up the Christmas tree and says he won’t come down for anyone except his mama.”

~~~~~~~~~~

It’s November 3rd, 1999, and Roger, John, and Brian are promoting Queen’s upcoming compilation album, Greatest Hits III.

Interviewer, daytime television host Brad Chenoweth: “Today we have a very special treat for our viewers. Here with us in our London studio are the men of Queen: guitarist Brian May, drummer Roger Taylor, and bassist John Deacon. Good morning, and thank you all so much for being here.”

Brian: “It’s our pleasure.”

Roger: “I do screams as well as drums, Brad.”

Interviewer: “Hahaha, yes, of course. Now Queen has had an extremely busy year, and this Greatest Hits album has a few new selections on it, right? Take us through that process.”

Brian: “It does have a few new tracks, that’s correct. You know, ever since Freddie...ever since we lost Freddie Mercury, I mean, you know, it’s impossible to fill a space like the one that he left in the world.”

Roger: “Yes, yes.”

Brian: “But as difficult as it was, after finally finishing Made In Heaven in 1995 and getting it just right, feeling as if we had really done Freddie justice...we were left with this distressing feeling of ‘what’s next?’ What are the three of us supposed to do with ourselves? Split up and never work together again? Retire to the seashore? Open up some corner store to putter around in until we die?”

Roger: “A clog shop, perhaps.”

Interviewer: “You were thinking, ‘well hell, we’ve got plenty of talent ourselves!’”

Roger: “Well, talent, yes, but also energy. Drive. We’ve been working at being one of the best bands in the world for almost thirty years now, Brad. I wouldn’t even know how to begin to stop.”

Brian: “None of us wanted to stop, we came to that realization. And so we’ve done a tremendous amount of benefit concerts and recording sessions with some of the best artists of our time, and I think people who listen to this album are really going to appreciate that. We’ve got a live version of Somebody to Love with George Michael, and The Show Must Go On with Elton John, he’s just lovely to work with...oh and a rap version of Another One Bites The Dust with Wyclef Jean, which John was not exactly a fan of. But we all have to learn to give and take, don’t we?”

Interviewer: “Absolutely, and I’m really looking forward to getting my hands on a copy of this record. Is there any chance Queen might settle on a permanent new front man one day?”

Roger: “If we can ever find somebody John likes enough!”

Interviewer: “But, truthfully...none of you wanted to quit after Freddie passed away? It was a unanimous decision to keep with it?”

Roger: “Essentially, yes. I mean I think it was an all or nothing deal, wasn’t it? If one of us left then that would throw the whole thing off. I was always adamant from very early on in the band’s lifetime that I wouldn’t be interested in continuing without John. And I couldn’t imagine him and Brian being left alone together, my god, there’d be literal bloodshed, someone’s throat would be cut within the hour, believe me.”

John: “We might have lasted a day or two. But yes, it was more or less unanimous.”

Interviewer: “Now you’ve always been known as the quiet, domestic one, John. You weren’t tempted by the thought of retirement? Not even for a moment?”

John: “Well...I think it depends on the circumstances, really. I like working, and I like touring and traveling a good part of the year. But I imagine I’d get very homesick if I was alone on the road. Fortunately, that’s not the case. So the thought of retirement didn’t appeal to me nearly as much as it might have otherwise.”

Interviewer: “That’s right, I understand that your wife has been Queen’s touring nurse for...how long now? Twenty years?”

John: “Since 1974, so that’s twenty-five years.”

Roger: “Wow. It’s been that long?!”

Brian: “Feels like yesterday, doesn’t it?”

Interviewer: “How lucky for you, John. And look, you’re beaming!”

Roger: “Get it together, Deaks.”

John: “I’m an astronomically lucky man. It’s like having home with you anywhere in the world.”

Roger: “She’s good for curing hangovers as well, so that’s useful. And she knits everyone hats.”

Interviewer: “And you’ve got children, haven’t you John?’

John: “Four from my first marriage, yes. They’re all adults now so they come to visit us quite often, especially when we’re travelling. It worked out beautifully really, because they’re very close to their mother, of course, but my wife and I got together when they were all still fairly young, and so she’s always been there for them as they’ve grown up. My youngest especially was a rather...how would you say it diplomatically? A spirited child. But he warmed to her right away.”

Brian: “All the children are still friendly with each other as well, mine and Roger’s and John’s.”

Interviewer: “One big happy family, huh?”

Roger: “There are still a good amount of screaming matches between us dads, to be completely forthcoming.”

John: “You have to keep things interesting.”

Roger: “Exactly!”

Interviewer: “Yes, one can sense that there are still plenty of egos in this room, even after all these years! Tell me, Queen is nearly three decades old now, a worldwide phenomenon, the second-bestselling artist in the UK of all time behind the Beatles...how have you stayed together for so long when most bands last only a fraction of Queen’s lifespan?”

John: “Well I think we’ve all, you know, for the good of the band we’ve all had to grow towards each other to bridge the disagreements and keep peace. For example, I’ve had to learn to be more communicative, more open to collaboration and change. I can be someone who’s very comfortable being in the background. But then I’m resentful if people don’t see my point of view, even if I haven’t properly expressed it. So I have certainly had to work on that quite a lot.”

Brian: “Yes, John, I think that’s very true. Personally, I’ve had to learn to not get lost in the details so much. I have a bad habit of getting so fixated on something that I cause a massive row over a vanishingly small aspect of a song that no one else will ever notice. It’s just not worth the strife. So I’ve really tried to avoid that. Although, I’ll admit it, I still occasionally cause my share of drama.”

John: “Oh, sure.”

Roger: “And I’ve had to work on being less...”

John: “Annoying?”

Brian: “Combative?”

Roger: “Fiery.”

John: “That’s one word for it.”

Interviewer: “Was there ever a time when Queen’s existence was in serious jeopardy? And if so, how did you pull through?”

Brian: “Well, to be perfectly honest, as a band we went through quite a difficult time in the early 80s. And then we did again in the early 90s. And on both occasions there was a real worry that Queen might be over and we would all go our separate ways. But what kept us together through that...and feel free to disagree, Rog, John, if you have a different perspective...but what I feel kept us together was this profound sense of family. Queen predates all of our marriages, our children, our successes in the music industry or otherwise. It has become a constant place of belonging in the midst of professional and personal turmoil. And now our partners and children have been integrated into that network as well, so even if an individual relationship is strained or falls apart, the gravity of the band keeps us all in a perpetual symbiotic orbit. And I don’t see that ever ending.”

John: “Yes, well, I suppose that about sums it up, doesn’t it?”

Roger: “Bleeding christ, Brian. ‘Perpetual symbiotic orbit.’ Just say we’re friends, you pretentious twit.”

~~~~~~~~~~

It’s August 19th, 2020, and John’s 69th birthday party is winding down as the sun dips lazily into the rust-colored western horizon.

You’re standing on the cobblestones in the garden behind the Surrey house. You had always thought it was too extravagant, too massive; it wasn’t until Roger sold it to you and John in the spring of 1982 that you realized it was the perfect size after all. Six bedrooms meant one for each of the children, one for you and John—the one with the blue-grey wallpaper and nautical decorations, to be exact—and the last for when Chrissie and Denny or Roger and Dom stay the night, which is fairly frequently. Your vacation home, where you and John spend most of the summer when Queen isn’t on tour, is a little country cottage in the sunlit Alpine hills of Florence, Italy. John designed it himself, every last detail; right down to the white picket fence grown over with ivy.

“Look what we got in the mail.” You hold up the invitation to show your husband, grinning, raising your eyebrows. “Guess we have to buy him another toaster.”

He reads the names on the shimmering cardstock patterned with jungle ferns and dinosaur footprints. Interesting choices. “Is Ben actually going through with it this time?”

“John!”

“Wasn’t he supposed to marry some Italian heiress or something?”

“Love can be complicated, Mr. Deacon,” you remind him.

When he smiles, crinkles spring up around his eyes. “Yes, I suppose it can be.”

“Ben Hardy’s having another wedding?” Chrissie calls over from where she’s shooting arrows at the archery targets set up in the backyard. Denny periodically steps in to correct the angle of her wrist or elbow. “And Queen’s invited this time?”

“Apparently,” you reply. “You could go too if you were still married to Brian.”

“Ha!” Chrissie cackles and looses an arrow. It hits damn near the bullseye. “Not worth it.”

“I’ll bring back all the scandalous gossip I can scrounge for you.”

“You better. What do the kids call it now? Spilling the tea? Spill all the tea, bitch.”

“Oh, kettles and kettles’ worth.”

“So a teapot,” John says. “Not another toaster. Maybe decorated with...” He squints at the invitation again. “What’s the theme? What do they like? Fossils? Brontosauruses?”

“Bizarre people,” Chrissie mutters.

“I’ll figure something out,” you say. “Something special. Something old.”

“John?” Brian shouts from the doorway that leads into the kitchen. Inside the refrigerator is covered with sketches and birthday cards and photographs curling and fading around the edges. “Anita and I are heading out now, can we get a hug goodbye?”

“Ugh,” John jokes. “Well, alright.” He gives you a wink as he trots off.

The Surrey house isn’t exactly roaring—John has never been one for crowds, and incidentally neither have you—but it is alive with his children and grandchildren and life-long friends. Not just his, you correct yourself. Ours.

Veronica—once Tetzlaff, then Deacon, then Tetzlaff again, and finally Kowalski—is not in attendance. You see her only at holidays and birthday celebrations for the kids and grandchildren, and even then only in passing. She is still cold towards you, resentful, extremely Catholic...although somewhat less dogmatic since her second husband Ivan, a former priest, left the Church to marry her. When the last of her children were grown, Veronica got certified to be a doula and now primarily serves unwed mothers seeking assistance from Catholic charities in London. She mentioned to Chrissie, who later told you, that something you had once done for her had inspired her to pursue it. That’s the only nice thing you’ve heard her say about you in almost forty years.

Roger wanders over to meet you, nursing a Heineken, stroking his white beard with his free hand. He and Dominique have always been off and on—including a few years in the late 80s when he moved out of their three-story Kensington townhouse and had a daughter called Adeline with some leggy, platinum blonde supermodel—but these days they’re mostly on. He and Dom had two children after their reconciliation: a son, Blaise, and a daughter named by Freddie after the Japanese word for tiger, Tora.

You gaze out into the sunset. Half of the garden is flooded with white calla lilies, a new bouquet for every February 15th since 1978.

“You’ll be sending back an RSVP in the affirmative?” Roger asks.

“Of course! Any excuse to visit the States. And I like Ben. Although he doesn’t look anything like you.”

He groans. “Those wigs, bloody hell.”

“It’s like they produced a whole movie just to have an excuse to make fun of your atrociously crunchy bleached hair.”

“And I bet you enjoyed that.”

“You deserved it.” When Freddie’s health began to fail and Queen stopped touring, you went back to school to get a degree in physical therapy. You and Roger have sessions three times a week, provided he’s on the wagon; and he usually is, nowadays. When he’s not, John’s the one to get the call from Dominique, and he hunts Roger down, convinces him to come home, works whatever quiet, soothing magic he carries around in his deep pacific blood. But right this moment, Roger is awfully quiet himself. His large, pale eyes—like clear water, like unraveling delphiniums, like the harmony that only comes when age burns away all those last entrenched talons of bitterness, of fear—skate over the calla lilies.

“Do you think things would have been different for us?” Roger asks softly. “If she had lived.”

It took you a long time to understand why Roger was in no hurry to get a divorce, to move you out of the Surrey house. They were the only ties he thought he had to anchor you to the band, to him. They were the only cards he thought he had to play to keep you in his life in any capacity. But John fixed that dilemma. He can fix just about anything, you’ve learned.

“No,” you tell Roger. “You would have worn me down eventually. You and your drinking and drugs and late nights and interminable recklessness. It might have taken longer, but we always would have ended. And John always would have been my home. She wouldn’t have kept us together. She just would have lived. And I wouldn’t have loved her for being a part of you. I would have loved her for whoever she was, whoever she grew up to be. But now I’ll never know who that would have been. I love the children I have, Roger, I do. But I still miss her, miss the person she would have been. It’s like chasing a shadow. It’s like a page of a book written in a language I can’t read. And it’s a feeling that never quite goes away.”

He smiles at you wearily, immensely sad, full of perfect understanding. “I know.”

~~~~~~~~~~

It’s October 10th, 2020, and the reception is held under shedding autumn leaves the color of rubies and imperial topaz and amber and yellow jade. The exuberant bride and groom weave through the crowds milling about the quaint farm, which is nestled in the hills of a small town in Northern California called Zenia. It belongs to Gwilym, apparently, and he and his flame-haired girlfriend Shiloh are shuttling tirelessly this way and that making sure everything goes according to plan. They don’t speak much to Ben or his new wife directly—there’s a stiltedness there, an uncomfortable period of readjustment that reminds you of how John and Roger were for a while after all the secrets came out—but there is undeniable kinship as well. Love can be complicated, you find yourself thinking, for the innumerable time. But that doesn’t mean it’s not real.

Making the rounds with the bride and groom is a strikingly beautiful, dark-haired boy who wears a miniature suit and a perpetual, mischievous grin. The new Mrs. Hardy almost always has her hand on his shoulder, his back, wiping cake frosting from his cheeks, ruffling his hair.

“Eli is kind of a demon kid,” Joe Mazzello warns you. “But in the best possible way.”

“Hm. I have somewhat of an affinity for demons myself.”

“Clearly,” Roger quips, sipping pink champagne. The snack table is Halloween-themed and extremely casual: Cheetos and pumpkin pie and caramel apples and dinosaur-shaped brownies. Per usual, you’re grazing through an orange paper plate stacked high with enough nibbling material to keep any undesirable small talk at bay. But strangely, in all of the times you’ve crossed his path since Bohemian Rhapsody’s filming began, you’ve never minded chatting with Joe.

“Yeah, you two were married at some point, right?” Joe asks. Then he immediately blanches. “Oh my god. That was so rude. I did not just say that. I’m so sorry. I saw it on Wikipedia. I’m gonna go drown myself in the stream now.”

“No, you’re right!” you admit in a peal of laughter. “Briefly and disastrously.”

“It wasn’t that disastrous,” Roger protests, thieving a Cheeto off your plate. He misplaced his prescription sunglasses on the flight over and is thus relatively helpless.

“Rude. Get your own. They’re over on the other end of the table.”

“I can’t see that far—!”

“Dom?” you call as she sashays over in a flowing white dress and licking a stick of orange rock candy. “Please control your husband.”

She smiles. “If I haven’t managed it yet, I don’t think there’s much hope.” She nods to Joe. “It’s so nice to see you again. Meeting you people was the only bright spot of that whole movie ordeal.”

“What, you didn’t fancy it?” Roger jests.

“At least they included you,” you tell Dom, smirking. “They ignored my existence entirely. They threw in some random woman with zero lines and called her Veronica in the credits. Whatever.”

Dom rolls her expressive umber eyes. “Yes, how flattering, I was in two scenes and one of them involved a joke about Roger cheating on me.”

“You’re a star, baby,” you say. “Deal with it.”

Dom smacks your arm playfully. She may be annoyed, but it doesn’t pain her the way it used to. She’s had decades of practice.

“The script could have been better,” Joe concedes. Then he spies John as he approaches, almost drops his caramel apple, waves frenetically. “Hi, Mr. Deacon! Hi!!”

“Wonderful job with all of this, Joe.” John shakes his hand as Joe gapes at him, starstruck. He’s always like that around John, appreciative, in awe, acutely aware of John’s legendary place in rock and roll history; and you love that someone besides you and Roger look at him that way.

“Thanks, I did it myself. Just kidding. It was 99% Gwil.”

“Well, I’ll still get you front row seats at the next Queen + Adam Lambert show.” It had taken a long time for John to find a front man he liked...a long time. He drove Roger and Brian insane. He kept saying he wanted someone who was like Freddie and yet simultaneously not trying to be Freddie, someone genuinely kind and charismatic and empathetic, an otherworldly talent, a natural performer. And then, on an unassuming spring night in 2009, they found him.  

Joe claps a palm on John’s shoulder and grins, his eyes glistening. “I’m obsessed with this little old guy! Obsessed, I tell you!”

“You want to see how old he is?” Roger teases. “Lift up that hand-knit hat and see what’s underneath. I’ll give you a hint. Not much.”

“At least I made it through the 90s without requiring hair plugs,” John counters.

“It was from all the bleaching!!”

“Hi, Rog!” Ben shouts as he rushes to embrace Roger, nearly knocking him off his feet. Mrs. Hardy is still across the field, talking to Brian, Anita, Rami, and Lucy, and trying to convince Eli not to crawl into a chocolate fountain.

Ben Hardy has always been somewhat of an enigma to you, mostly because he’s nothing at all like Roger. He’s subterranean-voiced and emerald-eyed and brooding and guarded and seems so much older than his twenty-nine years, and then every once in a while someone will come along and light him up like fireworks on the Fourth of July. Unlike Roger, Ben doesn’t light up for many people. He does for his son Eli, of course, and for Joe Mazzello...and for his new wife. He lights up for her like fucking wildfire.

“Ben,” you say, holding out a bag speckled with black cats. “I have our gift for you.”

“You shouldn’t have! Thank you so much.”

“You can’t thank us until you open it,” John chastises.

So Ben does. Inside is an album of hundreds of photos you’ve taken of Queen since Roger bought you your first Canon for Christmas in 1974: pictures that have never been released publicly of the boys at the Rainbow, at the Budokan, in Rome, in Boston, in Japan, in New Orleans, at Montreal, at Madison Square Garden, at Live Aid, at the Surrey house, at Montreux. Interspersed are some of John’s sketches, the only ones you can bring yourself to part with: close-ups of a long-haired Freddie drawing on messy eyeliner, Roger adjusting his sunglasses with a cigarette smoldering between his fingers, Brian tuning his Red Special.

“Oh my god,” Ben whispers.

“Most of those are very old,” you explain. “And I heard you both like old things.”

“We definitely do.” He hugs you, suddenly and fiercely and warmly; and you catch a glimpse of what it must be like to be one of the few people that he allows to truly know him, those shadowed depths to balance Joe’s uncomplicated light.

Maybe that’s it, you realize. Maybe Joe is more like Roger and Ben like John.

The wedding playlist is exclusively classic rock songs: the Doors and Aerosmith and Fleetwood Mac and Led Zeppelin and Queen. As A Kind Of Magic ends, the eerie opening notes of Hotel California ripple out over the breezy autumn fields.

“Not this fucking song!” Roger cries.

Joe turns to you, confused.

“LSD,” you inform him. “1977. I would not recommend it.”

“Noted.”

Roger continues, rubbing his forehead: “It makes me think of...freaking...weird, creepy shit...like swimming at night through cold water. But I just keep swimming and can’t get anywhere.”

“It makes me think of sharks,” you say. “Maybe they’re related.”

“Freddie always said it made him think of birds,” John sighs. “And the color blue.”

The three of you pause, nodding, remembering.

Joe frowns solemnly, peering down at his shoes. “I’m sorry I never got to meet him.”

“He would have adored you,” you say.

“Really?”

“Are you kidding?! You would have been best friends. Always looking out for people. Always plotting the next escapade. That charming chaotic energy. The utter inability to bake anything.”

“Awwww.” Joe beams, delighted. “I fucking love you guys.”

“That’s the thing,” Roger says. “People don’t realize it. We’re more of a family than a band. We find people we take a shine to like ancient treasure, snatch them up, sand away all their rough edges, show them everything the world has to offer. And if they can survive the casualties of stardom, that trial by fire, they become permanent. They grow like roots into our blood, our bones...and perhaps we claim a part of theirs as well. They become things we can’t live without.”

“And once you’re in the family,” John tells Joe with a fond, crafty smile. “You can never leave.”

[smallestclowninthecircus]

Season 3 notes popping off

due to my desire to not completely fail all my classes this year i made myself slow down significantly while listening to this season, and the fact that the other person i'm listening along with had to catch up. We've managed to convert several other people to start listening and its pretty great.

ep 81: what does it even mean to be chosen by one of them? And if he was chosen by the eye. we know Gertrude wasnt? Because she cut the eyes out of the magazines?

ep 82: elias lmao. I understand why people like him so much bahshdhdk i thought he was gonna snitch on Jon but he didnt so he's fine. Ok but how do we think he knew all that stuff. Idk probably just institute connections. I love the fact that the recorder just wants to record stuff randomly bjahsjdhd. Elias feels a lot like Michael in the sense that he knows more than he should and talks in a way that implies he just wants to wait and see how things play out for his own benefit. I understand him knowing the things that happened but his description of her emotions implies something paranormal. Maybe he's connected to one of the entities. Which one I cannot guess.

ep 83: did a file get delivered randomly to the place he's staying at? Probably elias lmao. He thinks the mannequin is related to the stranger. Idk I would believe it.

ep 84: worms? I know he says earth worms but idk. Again? Is she making gordon golems out of trash? Martin popping off. You can tell the statements get to him more that they get to Jon. How come martin is so mad about it? I want to assume he just doesnt want her to get stuck there but idk. Jude Perry. The calliope organ. Jon heard a circus in one of the last episodes

ep 89: he's talking to perry? Like jude Perry? He says ... God? Is that what it is? Lmao. The Desolation. Jon is tired of ppl being vague and not telling him stuff lmao. Oh God Jon is so confused. Compel her? Is she assuming he has some kind of power? Does he have powers? Hmm. im agreeing with jon here please jesus christ why does everyone have to be so cryptic. Just say what you mean. "maybe you get an itchy eye" bahasjkdfklsjdf girl what. Agnes saved her? Oh this is the girl from the cafe story? So theres the Cult of the Lightless Flame? They worship whatever entity this is? The Desolation? Why do they all seem like they sorta worship her then? Is Gretchen gonna die oh god. fuckin michael. a different michael aaah. i see. dont do it shes gonna burn you. sir. please. sir dont you dare do- WHAT DID I SAY what did you think was gonna happen hhh.

ep 90: try to make it less obvious you're trying to get fired big T. Elias that doesnt sound like the most healthy thing to do. oh dear is this gonna be triggering for me. uuuuuh. uuuuuuuuuh. doesnt seem like it ok gonna keep listening. Jared. hmmmmm. Ok we've seen Keay and hotner or whatever his name was.

ep 91: Michael Crew. Oh is this the lightning scar guy. Mister jon sir did you just die. No? God everyone is so fuckin cryptic. Say normal things please. They all just like to go on about pain and agony and j e s u s c h r i s t we get it you got hurted by whatever thing. So theyre avatars? question mark? Jude Perry is an avatar of The Desolation? hhhh fractals. thats a spiral thing innit. Yup. messing with your perceptions. God they all talk about feeding their god and feeding that which feeds them and. hh what does that meann. Leave big J. please. uh oh. is it daisy? how come he has the web lighter still? the tape recorder just turns on sometimes you know how it is. So he can compel people? not that he knows it obviously but. a bit wack. powers go brr i guess? If the eye just wants knowledge i guess he feeds it by getting the statements? b/c i doubt it wants him to murder ppl or whatever.

ep 92: elias you all knowing fuck what do you know. (i guess all given what i just said) Lukas. Heard of them before. Mordecai Lukas. Loneliness. The lonely even. Jonah Magnus. Elias ur sounding like a bit of a dickhead rn. lmao jon's just like "i dont care" elias what is ur deal. Why does he want to tie her in. ohh i see. lmao theyre all just like "elias why" The Unknowing lol seems very much like something the eye wouldnt like. lol elias is gettin all philosophical. what does it really mean to be human. this still doesnt answer why gertrude wanted to destroy the archives tho.

ep 93: bahsjdfh he seems so dead inside rip. awww admiral. i love him already. ghh breacon and hope. purple mold. doesnt sound like anything we've seen so far. I think the funniest explanation for breacon and hope is that they dont actually serve the stranger they just kinda happen to be a random neutral party that cart around random spooky entity related stuff. ooooh. when we hear the slight static of the tape recorder it's cuz he's compelling ppl.

ep 94: the end! listen man they were all just grayed up for 4/13.

ep 95: the end also? death but also savagery/ animalistic shit. aww martin. lmao becerra. she's just been chillin in the corner.

ep 96: return to sender. haha minecraft go brr. prediction: breacon and hope? yup there we go. jon why is there an echo. are you in a stairwell? is he gonna eat it- yup. how did i call it. unsure abt what theyre talking about but ok. they kidnapped someone? Sarah Baldwin. ooooh that guy.

ok im just putting this here so i have notes for when nicholas gets to this part. It seems like (from jon's conversation with jude perry) that the desolation and the eye are kinda at odds with eachother? like i guess not directly but it seems like they dont really vibe? so how could be with both. Cuz if he has the heat powers and shit then we know he's an avatar of the desolation. but then why does he have so much eye imagery. also he got burned intentionally? like jude did when she went on her monologue about the feeling of burning? but then why did he wear the eye pendant. it stops him from being burned all the way which seems like he's not fully accepting the fire or whatever.

Nooooo I lost like a bunch of my notes rip. I keep forgetting to save.

Ep 104: tim gives a coherent statement without jon even being there. Ugh. Fucking robert smirk. Dont like him. Joey. Dont recognize the name. The show must go on. Clown. The spooky circus?

ep 105: total war... shogun 2? jon is just understanding languages again. "if i understood mandarin or cantonese" are you sure you dont big man?

ep 106: havent we heard this one already? mans in space? oh no this is just another episode in space. fairchild... uuuh. cant remember. oh! this is related to that! this is one of the ppl from the other side. sounds like a Vast thing. oh he's the one that the dude saw? but that guy didnt have a face... she's sorta like jon. wanting to dismiss the statements. lmao i love the workplace gossip. ace jon for the win! oh cmon elias dont be a dick. sunny meadows or whatever. thats the place we heard about.

ep 107: oh great is it jude perry again. Third Degree. bahahsdkfj she was arrested. sorry but imagining this old british lady getting arrested is funny. she was trying to resurrect him. using the skin book. he's not feeling well. jon take a nap. i wonder if this is what happens when he uses his powers too much. He gets into The Zone when he reads statements lol. didn't we have a burning train car in anothre statement? is it julia fairchild? bahahahs "kidnapped. Again." poor jon honestly. julia... about her dad. daughter of the murder shed guy? hunting like your dad liked to hunt or normal people hunting. oh hunting vampires!

ep 108: melanie has been suffering. poor martin peter lukas why do you have to be like this. can he not just use the front door? does he have to bother the ppl doing statements?

ep 109: how come he cut her off? kinda rude tbh. its either jon's influence or there was smth he didnt want her saying. is it gerard on the table? this sounds kinda like smth from one of the university episodes. is it the closed eye on the hand? yup. he's like one of the students! if the thing listening in is elias then... he can do that without the tape recorder yknow. plus who's to say it wont just turn itself on again

110: who wants to bet its a leitner?

111: Lukas related to The Lonely. I used to not like Gerard that much but i like him more now. but i thought there were 15? ohhh thats right isnt flesh newer? gerry for the win honestly. finally telling jon things.

112: lol "again" no one ever tells any of these ppl anything. tim and basira are just out of the loop constantly. music, like the war episodes. The hunt or the slaughter? probably the hunt. so Daisy is related to the hunt right? basira likes the reading, she's doing fine at the institute. daisy's getting worried...

113: it just turned on randomly. what is it lol. explossives! oh boy. why do they always assume he turned it on intentionally. melanie youre not making me like you that much. which entity is this about i cant tell. lol he was disappointed it was just the end. The title Breathing Room made me think it was gonna be about the buried but i guess not. So many of these entities deal with death but the end is one that deals in just death. it has no need for fancy deaths, just death is enough

114: more hilltop road statements? the tree. oh boy. ok the tree has 8 arms obviously theres the spider parallels. was she taken into an alternate universe? oh no. jon tries to phrase things so he's not asking questions. thats honestly good. "sometimes i was kidnapped" oh dear. they got gertrude. daisy ur so odd lmao. who wants to bet they dont know the tape recorder's running?

115: silaca? or whatever? antique man? meat grinder... related to the meat is meat episode? oh wow. they buy antiques from him. maybe dont antagonize this creature which can kill you?

116: lol theyre all just so done with elias. music? is it like the one band that if you hear them you die or wtvr. oh its chess? i am very much confused. mmm stranger go brr. gorilla skin? oh shit the dance. woah. this is so good. this is so gender. the words are wonderful. "you can just say tim" lmao trying to fool elias never feels like a good idea.

117: except elias lmaoo. oh shit. leitner getting some use for once idk. bruuh poor melanie she has been thru so much shit. martin you can just say youre worried about jon. lol he's so accurate in his jon impression. lol who was that. was that daisy? lmaoo. oop hi tim. oh god i hope tim doesnt die. i feel like i wouldve heard about that? but im not sure. destroying the source of knowledge is gonna be hard for jon. yay jon! you did a good thing. let him rest.

118: go off martin lmao. awww poor martin. oh god the tape gets that squealy quality and its awful.

119: woah. lots of things happening. uhh. POP OFF TIM!!

120: lmao elias giving a statement about jon's dreams lol. damn jon doesnt even get his own dreams? has to stay Watching even when he's asleep? f in the chat this man goes thru so much shit. oh boy its peter. lol martin my beloved. idk i dont trust peter.

[youimploresme]

For the Enemies/Rivals starters maybe “We have to stop meeting like this” with Arthur x F!reader where she’s not part of the Van der Linde gang (she’s on her own but helps them when they cross paths) and she and Arthur always meet on some kind of robbery? Like they both are robbing the same train/stagecoach/etc at the same time and this is like the eighth time it’s happened over the years? Maybe he asks her to officially join them?

Friend By Happenstance

UM IM SORRY I have no idea how old this request is, but I came back, saw that this said "Arthur" and Just. YES. So here you go, and I'm so sorry for however long the wait was.

Also I absolutely love this request so much. The flavour is immaculate.

•

"We gotta stop meeting up like this."

•

The first signs of morning were peeking above the mountains behind your lone form as you peered through stolen binoculars. You took your tongue between your teeth in concentration, picking out any signs of movement from that little spot atop the hill.

The stagecoach was scheduled to arrive soon, and you had to be ready. It wasn't supposed to be heavily guarded, which meant it might be the target of other thieves.

A few more minutes ticked by and you watched the shadows dying as morning shoved night away.

Suddenly, you caught sight of the bank-on-wheels, just about salivating over the thought of how much money was in there already. You knew that this was going to be a good haul, just as long as you could pull it off. "Hyah!" You called, nudging your stallion into action. The excitable horse took off like a bullet, slamming through the bushes and tearing dirt up from the ground. This was what it meant to feel alive. You knew that as you whooped and drew your rifle, wind pulling at your hair and hollering in your ears.

At least you knew you were free.

The stagecoach veered sideways and darted forward as the people inside cried out in shock and fear. You grinned and pushed the stallion to go faster, to which he happily obliged. A gunshot rang out and a puff of dirt suddenly came from beside you.

"I ain't gonna kill none of ya, but if you keep shooting at me then I'll highly consider it!" You called. "Just stop the coach and make this easy for all of us!"

"Oh, god, keep going! Don't let her get us!" A lady cried from within.

There was another gunshot, this time closer, and you let out a sigh through your bandana. "Shoot my horse and I'll make y'er deaths slow and painful!"

The third gunshot pissed you off enough to act on your second plan, as threatening them down wasn't going to work. You matched the speed of the coach with your horse, then leapt onto the side. As you did so, another rider came up beside the coach on the opposite end and a rifle was stuck in the driver's face. You didn't get a clear view of the other outlaw, but you didn't really... enjoy sharing. You slid quickly across the coach while the guard on the front was distracted and delivered a quick knock-out blow, then pulled him off of the coach.

The coach began to slow and you huffed out a breath. Now, you just had to deal with the other interested thief.

The coach stopped and the driver was yanked to the ground. You readied your rifle and jumped around the side to get the jump on whoever it was.

To your surprise, however, the shocked face that looked up belonged to someone you had met before. Actually, you guys had met several times and in situations much like this one.

"Arthur-fucking-Morgan." You lowered the rifle with a smile.

"Y/N? What are the odds?" He chuckled, foot still planted on the chest of the stagecoach driver.

You hung your rifle over your shoulder and drew your pistol, then walked to door. As you gestured the people out, you spoke. "I had no idea you guys made it up here, last we spoke was at Blackwater... right? How'd that go, by the way?"

Arthur sighed and marched the driver to the back as you demanded the riders hand over their valuables, quietly as to not interrupt Arthur.

"Ah, not so good. It was a bust and we lost some good people. Had to move up here to hide out." He shrugged as the driver unlocked the back of the stagecoach. This was how your encounters went nowadays, you and him would finish the robbery while you caught up. "What about you? I thought you were heading to Mexico."

"Ah, yeah. Like your Blackwater party, my vacation to Mexico didn't work out." You chuckled, remembering your narrow escape. "They're not exactly welcoming right now."

The both of you finished robbing every drop of money from that stagecoach, then you knocked the people out and called your horses over.

"It's funny to imagine the time that I once hated you for running into me all the time. I couldn't stand the sound of your voice back then, or even hearing your name." You teased him with a laugh. "Strange how time changes everything, huh?"

"Seriously... we gotta stop meeting up like this, Y/N." Arthur grunted as he pulled himself up into his saddle. You frowned up at him from beside your horse.

"And here I thought you enjoyed these little meetings as much as I did." You cooed. To your surprise, he nodded.

"I very much do enjoy them, actually. You still run on your own, right?" He glanced away, seeming suddenly... shy?

You grinned up at him. "Yes, I do. Are you trying once again to get me to join your gang?" You crossed your arms as he chuckled.

"Saw right through that one, eh?"

"I'm clever." You shrugged. His smile settled to a much smaller one and he leaned forward on the horn of his saddle.

Then he sighed. "And, uh... what if I were? Ya know, asking you to join us?"

It was your turn to chuckle as you finally pulled yourself up into your saddle. Then you looked at him again and hummed. "I'd miss running into you randomly. We've been doing this for years-- I'm starting to expect it by now..." You didn't miss the disappointed look that crossed his features at that. "However, I can't help but think I'd enjoy seeing a lot more of you than these random encounters." You flashed a shy smile as he rubbed the back of his neck.

You had never seen Arthur Morgan, the stoic and scary man, blush before... until then, of course. He pretended like he wasn't blushing and nodded once.

"I think I'd fancy seeing you more than I get to, too."

"Then it's settled. If your gang will have me, then I'll join you. As long as you're there."

You didn't tell him that if it had been anyone other than him asking, or that you had been running into so much, you would've given a flat no.

No, it was only because Arthur was the one you had met by some decree of fate.

It was only Arthur Morgan, who you fancied more than even you knew.

Arthur Morgan: your friend by happenstance.

•

Requests Open\\

[strawberryybird]

So whats your favorite thing about each of your fe3h favs? Anything you could just go on a long rant about for any of them? or interactions between them that you wish had happened or wanted to happen.

Waking up in the morning and going through all of the drunk blogging and “-thank-u-for-weathering-my-deep-need-to-be-liked-and-given-attention-off-main-I-guess” if this isn’t a whole mood on its own I don’t know what is. Anyways it sounds like you had fun and it was definetly fun reading everything. I hope you are feeling okay the day after everything. And to tack on a random question which fe3h character would you want to get drunk with if it was just the two of you?

Hi Hello!! thank u for enjoying my drunk blogging !!! and for the asks!!! (and the lovely comments on my fics actually hi there ur wonderful!!!) i’m currently cursing the damage i’ve done to my sleep schedule and suffering under my (truly deserved) hangover lmao ;p apologies u don’t get drunk me, only uncaffeinated hangover me, but we talk to the same degree and make the same spelling errors lol

ah yes.. im a fountain of moods (all of u still with me here are saints hhhh)

ok content time:

the second one first: i absolutely want to get drunk with ferdinand von aegir. the man’s a hop, skip and a vodka shot away from a mess. i love him. he’d be full of conversation and would buy the rounds every time as a true nobleman should !! he’d probably be really good at instigating drinking games but horrible at playing them.. i love party gay ferdie von aegir.

i’m going to LIMIT the faves i list because truly i love them all very much but i have to at least pretend i have some restraint and i don’t want to make this even More of a wall of text it’s going to become . SO 

edit: ok i started writing this at like. half ten pm. when the fuck did it become monday. 

edit edit: Disclaimer time: these are my conclusions and my conclusions alone. I’m not saying I’m objectively right or correct. I’m very much approaching this from an English Lit-ish point of view because that’s just how I look at a lot of media. I’m not asserting my opinions or conclusions as the only viable to interpret this media, and if anything I say offends you then I am sorry, it was not my intention but I acknowledge that I have hurt you. This is not the exhaustive list of my thoughts on the whole thing, there’s a lot more depth and detail I didn’t go in to.

My favourite thing about Edelgard is the Everything, but notably I really love her proud nature and how in VW it quite directly gets her *spoilered*, and in CF it’s integral to her success (bc it’s her own rigidity within herself that keeps her standing i think) and I Like Tragic Characters (and it’s very elinor dashwood). because it’s one of the qualities that can throw her character into a villainous light & it’s really interesting !! but at the same time.. it’s not quite ‘pride’ purely, and it’s kinda the wrong word. it’s some mixture of determined/stubbon, anger, self-reliance, and that really hard veneer of personality u develop when you’re around people who aren’t healthy for you to be around, and the very very critical need to be right about the choices you made because the weight of the  consequences would kinda ruin you if you weren’t. (the dean winchester effect huh) and wrap that up together with a big scoop of ‘i believe my way is right’ (’and my way Has to be right’) and then u get a lot of what i LOVE about Edelgard’s character

My favourite thing about Dorothea is really how she was the character that Hated the war. genuinely the contrast between white clouds dorothea & timeskip dorothea Breaks My Heart EVery Time I See Her !!!!! that and Spoilers!!! (her last words in AM unrecruited is edelgards name and i literally had to stop and cry about it for five minutes.) she’s one of the characters that post-war doesn’t have a Massive political stake in the war - like there’s her anger towards the current class system (another reason i bloody love her PLEASE give me angry feminine characters) but i think it’s her bonds with edie (or byleth&whoever if recruited) that keep her actually fighting in the war & it’s kinda different and i like that (actually i think she parallels/sends up/contrasts really really nicely with mercedes in that way)

my favourite thing about Marianne is just everything. how she finds worth within herself if you play VW (and the very very harrowing hc that she didn’t if you don’t), how she’s full of a quiet rage for the crest system but you eek it out of her as you play the game. how she’s still loved by the deers despite her appalling mental health (fight me on that canon) and the game essentially has her ‘save’ herself by finding worth and life within herself. i love her so much ok. (i also love her because she committed identity theft.. she and i share a name with the second dashwood sister oho (but i don’t use that name on the internet hhh) (also because my favourite shakespeare play is king lear (no really it is), my birthday is in red wolf moon too, i used to have very long hair i wore in a plait most days for school, little 11 and 17 year old me acted Exactly like white clouds marianne did & genuinely i love marianne von edmund to pieces but God it hurts to see her in game sometimes bc her journey mirrors a lot of mine & i love this character. so much.) WOW that was a lot. am i sure im not still drunk

so claude is not only one of my favourite characters in the whole damn game, but also shares the name of one of my favourite painters so i simply have to love him ;p however i can’t give a proper opinion on him yet because i haven’t finished playing deers yet :( but !! i love how (as is with all the lords) he has a veneer of personality to him, but in contrast to Edie where it’s quite seemless with her actual personality, Claude’s veneer of personality seems very opaque and plastered on. i may or may not just be wildly imagining things but he’s a very different personality in his lower supports with Lysithea than he is in his B support with Marianne, for instance. like, i love characters that are obviously a lot more socially intelligent than i could ever be, and claude is *chef kiss* BEAUTIFUL ON EVERY LEVEL.

i’d wax lyrical about Ingrid too but honestly there’s many better people out there with the good ingrid content than i could do. shortly, i love the New Take on the pegasus knight archetype she brings, and i really like her perspective on femininity !!! she’s such a good character & she brings so much to the game and to the pegasus knight character too!!!!! she’s such a bright personality and altho i wish so many of her supports weren’t centred around make-up (hhh dorogrid fans i pray for you), i think she’s really going to pave the way for whoever’s next in that character slot. (like, you can’t tell me she’s not an offshoot of Phila from awakening lmao)

no ok i’m adding in Hubert because i love this vampire man. i really really love the devoted servant archetype and we all know i love edelgard’s tragedy. and i love hubert. so much. the way he enables edelgard in pretty much everything is just so so interesting to think about, and i love his intensity about it. he’s like the ever present reminder that edelgard’s will kinda has to work otherwise the potential consequences of her being wrong are personified in hubert imo. it’s only touched on in VW in his letter but like. god i wish we got more but it’s a wonderful starting block. i love his comic relief as well, he’s such a fun character to have !!!! and also i have so many hubert fics in my bookmarks that just Get him. i love hubert. oh i love hubert.

i’m going to cut myself off there because . that’s just a LOT. 

as for characters i would sell a limb to have them talk to each other, honestly it’s Edelgard/Marianne. (and only 51% because of all the projection i have going on with those two ok don’t at me i  k n o w). that support chain would be too powerful and honestly i wish they had one becuauese it would have gone so Hard about what Edelgard was doing and what Marianne thought about it, and how they connected over it & they probably would have had their supports set over cups of tea or smth .. it would have been amazing. 

(but i’d rather have nothing than an awakening-level-content support where they talk about eating fucking bear meat instead of talking about how they grew to trust each other with and their ability to save the fate of the world HUH AWAKENING. (i’m salty about fredrobin forever)

also hilda/dorothea supports . we were robbed. they’re best friends and you can’t actually tell me otherwise. they run the disaster bi chat of garreg mach. honestly i just would Love a support chain for them that starts with them talking about self care routines and something really small like accessories or perfume and it goes into how self-esteem and how dorothea has to find the same worth in herself as hilda so easily can. (hilda’s the queen of self esteem she’s a babe) and in CF they could have dialogue and then we cry about it. and in SS they talk about how they both chose their place with Byleth and not at edie/claude’s side like i’m just free balling here it could be Anything and i’d love it. 

also big shocker .. dorothea/marianne supports . they both hate themselves in their profile CAN THEY PLEASE CHAT. 

also i accidentally fell in love with the claude/edelgard ship and i desperately need them to interact on the same level that edie and dimitri get to because.. aren’t there supposed to be three main characters huh intsys .. and like i get what the game goes for with two of the lords embroiled in a personal war against each other at the heart and the third actually finding something close to the truth because he’s not involved in age old grudge matches but at the same time That’s one of the things that really really falls flat for me in the game. dimitri’s villain is edie, edie’s villain is big dragon wife, claude’s villain is the lack of communication that everyone in fodlan suffers from apparently. lack of communication and lies. ymmv with what im saying rn but i would have preferred if all three lords had strong personal ties to each other and in Each Route it was brought up. or just snip dimitri’s dialogue out of CF because i have beef with how that WHOLE moment went down on so many accounts hhhh honestly it makes me angerey to think about lol

.. back on topic- can the lords pls talk to each other because it would be SO interesting in white clouds and i like seeing how their personality presentations clash

also . can i marry manuela yet. my crops are dying here.

.. im so sorry about this but it’s midnight and i’m too tired to edit so. have this. thank you so much for the questions!!!! very kind (and brave) of you to ask me!!!!! i had a lot of fun writing all of this & as always if anything you didn’t quite /get/ i’m happy to re-explain myself!! :)

[bel0vedmendes]

What Keeps You Up

Shawn X Reader

Warnings: Kinda spicy at some points (nothing crazy) Super Fluffy. Language.

Description: Written from Shawn & Y/N’s perspective. Inspired by the song What Keeps You Up at Night by Dan + Shay. Shawn and Y/N meet briefly at a party, and from that point forward their drawn to each other. Constantly wondering if its too good to be true, can they make it work?

A/N: I wrote this awhile ago on my previous account, originally I had it separated into 5 parts, I decided to merge them and give it a different ending. I love this, but I've lost all motivation for this story so I made it into one long imagine. Enjoy!

NOT MY GIF

SHAWNS POV

 Whenever I came home I tried my hardest to be as normal as possible. I tried to say yes to as many invites as I could. So when I found myself at this random party with a few of my friends, I could only really be mad at myself. I really just wanted to go home. There were a lot of girl trying to get my attention, which normally I would love if I was in the mood. They were all trying to talk to me and I really only came to the party to hang out with my friends, but again, my fault. 

 I saw her sitting in the corner of the room, her friends were including her in a conversation that she was definitely not interested in. She was really pretty, but she wasn’t trying. I immediately noticed her sweatshirt, It had the Grey Sloan Memorial Hospital Logo screen printed on the front. She wore it with ripped skinny jeans and converse. Her face matched mine, she looked like she was regretting her decision to come too. I thought about going and talking to her, but I didn’t really know what to say. Before I could come up with anything I was cornered by a group of girls. I started to talk to them, but they were so ordinary. They all wanted pictures, so I obliged. Then they would try saying things to impress me. which really just annoyed me more. I found myself nodding and half listening to what they were saying and half trying to figure out how the hell to get out of it.

As I was plotting my escape, I felt a soft tug at my hoodie.  I turned around, and it was the girl with the Greys sweatshirt.

“Hey, can I borrow you for a second?” She pushes herself in front of the group of girls, she turns to them scrunching her face as she apologizes. “Sorry girls, I really need to talk to him about something important.”

They looked super confused, but they all backed away. I just went with it, “Sorry, guys.” I said as I followed the mystery girl.

She walked out the front door and kept walking, and for whatever reason, I felt compelled to follow her.

She finally stopped and turned around when she reached the street. She smiled at me and then looked behind me, and nodded. Silently telling me no one had followed.

“What… uh… what did you need to tell me?” I scrunched my eyebrows together and pushed my hands into the front pocket of my hoodie.

“Oh…nothing.” She giggled “You just really looked like you needed a breather, and your buddies were not about to leave that beer pong table.” She rambles “ I was on my way out so I thought I could help.” She nodded smiling at me.

I smiled back.

“Uhm, Im Shawn.” I said rubbing the back of my neck.

“I… know that.” She tilted her head, I assume it was her way of calling me an idiot without have to really say it.

“I’m Y/N” she walked towards me and went to shake my hand.

I took it and I think I held onto it a little longer than I should have.

“Well Shawn, it was lovely to meet you, but I have a hot date with my bed.” She giggled as she started to dig for her car keys in her purse. She started to blush, she didn’t seem nervous but maybe she was struggling with what to say too.

“Hmm, you sure you don’t want to stay and talk for a little bit?” I muttered, I wish it sounded as confident as it did in my head.

She smiled and then audibly sighed. I shifted awkwardly, that wasn’t a great sign.

“I do… but, I cant tonight.” She stuttered, she looked like she really did want to.

“Sure, you’ve got that hot date with your bed, I understand.” I smiled at her, not wanting her to feel bad. She laughed, a real belly laugh and it was one of the best things I had heard in awhile. I really liked hearing her laugh.

“I actually have to be at work in…” She paused to look at the time on her phone, her eyes widening as she realized what time it was. “6 hours.” Her face shriveled in disgust.

“Okay well at least let me walk you to your car?” I asked and she nodded as we started to walk down the street.

“What am I going to do about those girls though? My hero is leaving me.”

“You’re a big boy Shawn,” She laughs “But just in case…” She held out her hand my phone, I unlocked it and handed it to her.

I watched her put her name and number in my phone...

She handed it back to me.

“If it gets to crazy, and your boys fail once again. I’m really good at fake phone calls too.” She winked at be before opening the door to her car.

“I owe you.” I nodded to her.

“Yeah… you do.” She smirked at me before closing the door to her car and driving away.

I stood there for awhile just thinking about the last five minutes. I wanted to text her right then and there, but I knew that would look desperate. After that I decided to say goodbye to my friends and head home myself.  I was definitely going to text her tomorrow, I needed a plan.

________________________________________________________________

(Y/N) POV

As I drove away from the party, I watched Shawn in my rear view mirror as I drove away. Quickly glancing at my phone in the passengers seat to see if he was the type of guy to text me right away. No text. I figured that’s how it would be.

 As I drove, I started to get nervous. What if I fucked up? What if I had one opportunity to make an impression on Shawn and that was it?

I sighed rethinking everything I had said to him. Feeling my cheeks heat up at the fact that I told him I had a date with my bed. Why the fuck did I say that. That’s the lamest shit I’ve ever said in my entire life. He thought it was funny though, right? Im pretty sure he knew I was joking. God I hope he knew I was joking.

 I pulled into my apartment complex, parking in the spot that was meant for me. I got out of my car and started to head up to the third floor. Still unable to stop thinking about our interaction.

 I felt like I had left him wanting more. I scoffed out loud at the thought. Me… leaving Shawn Mendes wanting more. I played it cool the entire time I was talking to him, when in reality I was overthinking everything I said. The more I thought about the situation the more I realized, that my intention truly was to rescue him from the awkward situation those girls put him in.

I mean, sure, He’s an international rock star and I’m sure he loves the attention most of the time. Tonight, however, It seemed that he really just wanted to be Shawn, not rock star Shawn, and I wanted to give that to him.

 As I got into my pajamas and got into bed, I plugged my phone in to charge.  

I continue to over analyze everything I said to him, until I heard my phone’s message  alert ring from my night stand.

 UNKNOWN: Hey, Hero.

I sat up quickly staring at my screen, smiling from ear to ear.

My fingers ghosting the screen debating on texting back, or waiting until the morning. As I debate three periods pop up dancing on the screen, telling me that he had more to say.

UNKNOWN: I’m sure you’re sleeping�� but I just wanted to say thank you.

UNKNOWN: I really do owe you. I’d love to take you out.

UNKNOWN: text me tomorrow. xx

My heart was beating so hard, I could hear it. I read the messaged once more, to make sure I wasn’t hallucinating. I set my phone back onto the nightstand, turning on my side.

I was going to go out with Shawn. I couldn’t believe this.

________________________________________________________________

Y/N POV

 I woke up at the unholy hour of 6 am. Reading through the text messages over and over again.

So many different images played out in my head. Where we would go on our first date. If he would kiss me. Would I kiss him? I put all the thoughts aside and decided that I would text him when I left work at noon. I got up and got dressed for work and headed on my way.

 Work dragged on. I tried my hardest not to think about him, and what I wanted to say, but it was nearly impossible. I finally left work at 12 on the dot and started to drive home.

I sat down at my kitchen table with my phone in front of me. Typing out a response then quickly deleting it because it wasn’t right. Finally deciding on 3 simple words.

I’d like that.

I sent it. I felt like it should be simple. I watched my phone for a few minutes. Then I decided to take a shower, which turned into me standing under the scolding hot water, wondering if he had responded yet. Once I got out I made a bee line to my phone praying to see a message from him.

 UNKNOWN: So, what do you have going on tonight?

I squealed, holy fucking shit, this was not happening. I started to type a response and as I did, he started to say something else.

 UNKNOWN: There’s another party tonight, maybe I could pick you up and we could go together?

I sighed, not like I didn’t want to go with him to a party, I just hoped it would be him and I.

 Sure, that sounds good. What time should I be ready?

 UNKNOWN: 8pm?

 I wanted to say.. how about now? I internally groaned thinking about waiting until 8 pm to see him. How anxious I would be the entire day.

 Sounds good! :)

 I pressed send, wondering if we would keep texting or if he would just wait until tonight. I wondered if he was just as eager as me, or if this was a normal thing for him.

I decided to change his name in my phone, and that was a surreal feeling.

 SHAWN: Can’t wait to see you. xx

 I sent my phone down, smiling so hard my cheeks started to hurt. I wanted to call all of my friends and tell them what was happening. I wanted to shout it from the roof tops!

I didn’t though. Not until I knew for sure what was going on between us.

I decided to take a nap until I had to get up and get ready to leave.

_____________________________________________________

 Shawn's POV

 I was up around 7 am, walking around my condo aimlessly. I had hoped she would have responded already, but I figured she would wait until a little later.

 I went to the gym, played around with my guitar for a few hours, and went to lunch with Brian.

I know she said she had work, but I was really starting to worry that she wasn’t into it. She seemed like she might be last night, but she also really seemed to just be a nice person. Maybe she was just being nice and I was the one being super forward.

 Just as I got back home from lunch, my phone went off.

 Y/N(your hero): I’d like that.

Oh fuck, okay. So what do I ask her to do, and how soon is too soon. Brian told be about another party tonight, maybe I could take her there so she wouldn’t feel awkward. Or would that make things more awkward?

 I decided to ask her to be my date to the party, and she agreed. I relaxed a little because it seemed that she really didn’t care what we did. I told her I would pick her up at 8, and immediately wished I had said an earlier time. I was so anxious to talk to her, to get to know everything about her.

 I thought about texting her until I picked her up, but I really wanted to get to know her in person first. I felt like she would appreciate that. So I put my phone away and played on my guitar for a few more hours until I got ready to pick her up.

 _______________________________________

Y/N POV

 I woke up from my nap way too early. I couldn’t sleep, I was too excited. I decided to do my hair first. I stood in front of the mirror, realizing that it was fine the way it was. My hair was naturally wavy and I really didn’t have the desire to curl it or straighten it. I took my curling wand and put a few waves in a couple strands that weren’t cooperating then sprayed it with a coconut scented styling spray.

I laughed to myself looking at the clock, that literally only took ten minutes. I decided to sit down and do my makeup, once again realizing that this wasn’t something I usually did.

I put on a light foundation, and a little bit of bronzer and blush and some mascara that made my eyelashes look really good. Then I was done. Only 15 minutes.

 I decided to watch some Greys Anatomy until 7:30 when I would put my dress on. It was a simple little black dress. It was fitted around my chest and it flared out around my hips. Nothing crazy, I didn’t want to look or act like something I wasn’t. Of course I second guessed myself a million times, wondering if that’s what he wanted me to do.

 7:30 rolls around before I know it, and I get a text from Shawn asking for my address. My heart pounding out of my chest as I type it into to little box.

 SHAWN: I should be there soon. xx

I quickly text back

Okay, Let me know when you’re here.

 I quickly throw on my dress, scrunch my fingers through my hair, and touch up my mascara and lip gloss. He text me as soon as I was sliding my white converse on my feet.

 I got into the elevator of my apartment, and as the doors closed. I took a deep breath in. Reminding myself that he was just like me. We were normal, and this was our first date. Just be myself. I walked out of the building, spotting the jeep that was right in front of the main lobby of my apartment. I took one more deep breath and walked towards him, and damn did he look good.

 Tight black skinny jeans, boots, and a simple maroon button up. He looked way more dressed up than last night. I silently thanked god I decided on the dress and not something simple like the night before. He smiled at me and I smiled back as he opened up the passenger side door for me.

______________________________________________________

Shawn’s POV:

 She looked so good. I couldn’t stop staring at her. She looked like something out of a dream. Her hair was down, flowing around her shoulders with soft waves. I could tell that it was natural. She barely had makeup up on, her eyelashes looked so long, when she would look down they would brush against her cheeks. Her lips were pink like her cheeks, and I couldn’t stop thinking about how much I wanted to kiss them. Her dress, good god, this dress. Simple and black but it hit her in all the right places. 

 The original plan was to go to a party. So that’s what we’re dressed for, a party. When I picked her up and she started walking to my Jeep, I started to get jealous. She looked so beautiful, there was no way I was sharing this with anyone else. Not tonight, at least. 

It’s been awhile since I’ve felt this way about someone, but there was something different about the way I felt this time around.  Ever since I asked her out, I couldn’t stop thinking about her. I needed to make sure she couldn’t stop thinking about me too.  

  I watch her turn the radio volume down, snapping me out of my trance. 

I hear her giggle, and I quickly look at her. She’s slightly pivoted in her seat watching me, I smile scrunching my eyebrows together. 

“What?” I ask

“Are you... are you good?” She laughs at me. 

“What do you mean? Of course I’m good.” It came off a bit cocky, and that’s definitely not how I wanted to sound. 

  I look at her again and she’s pressing her lips together to keep from laughing I assume. 

“Okay. I’m glad you’re good.” She spoke turning forward in her seat. 

I nodded. 

God why couldn’t I just talk to her. I never got nervous around girls. That’s how I knew she was different. 

“So...” I cleared my throat “maybe we could, just hang out tonight?” I asked her 

I watched her cock her head confused from my peripherals. 

“Isn’t that what we’re doing?” She chuckled 

I laughed. I’m seriously an idiot. 

“Yes, but I mean just me and you. Maybe not go to the party. I mean unless you want to. Either way. It’s fine.” I rambled on. 

 “Don’t wanna be seen with me... ahh, sure I don’t care.” She smiles at me 

“No! That’s not it at all, I just... I want to get to know you. Ya know?” 

“Oh, so you want to get into my pants? I see.” She nods her head, biting her lip. 

My eyes widen and as soon as I start to defend myself, she starts laughing so hard. 

Her hand finds my forearm and squeezes it, “Shawn, we can go wherever you want.” She says softly, “ And hey...” she waits for me to look. “Calm down, okay?” She smiles. 

That smile did things to me. It cured every ounce of nervousness, anxiousness, and doubt I had ever had. 

After that, I knew I had to make her mine. 

_____________________________________________________

 Y/N  POV

He was insanely nervous. It was honestly the most adorable thing. I wanted to tell him, Its okay, I'm nervous too! I couldn’t though. I needed to seem like I was confident, that’s what he seemed to be attracted too so far.

 He was so intense, driving. I kept looking over at him as his fingers tapped against the stirring wheel. He was looking at his GPS and the roads were getting darker and darker. We had been driving for about 30 minutes, and I was starting to get anxious.

 As soon as I thought it, his voice comes over the music.

“Its this really pretty spot, I used to go to all the time growing up. I’ve just never driven there in the dark, but we should be there soon.” He smiles at me

And I smiled back.

“A really pretty spot where you… hide dead bodies?” I asked with a joking tone, trying not to laugh.

“Yep totally.” He rolls his eyes laughing. “I really didn’t think you’d catch on so quickly.” He says sarcastically. We laugh joking about the sketchiness of the situation, he was fully aware of how it looked.

When we finally pulled up, he was right, it was gorgeous.

It was this huge cliff that jutted out and over looked the city. Tons of sparkly lights dancing, and the stars above us were bright as can be. It was so simple but so breathtaking.

 He came over to open my door, taking my hand as he helps me out of the jeep. I hop down and he reaches into his backseat and rummages around until he finds a blanket. I watch him as he walks to the front of the jeep, and throws the blanket on the hood. He takes my hand nodding to the blanket and I laugh as I jump up onto the hood of the car, and he follows my lead.

 We sat there for awhile not saying anything, just looking at the view. The warmth of the jeeps engine was slowly leaving, and the wind started to feel colder than it did minutes ago. Shawn instantly noticed when I started to shiver. He hopped off of the hood and went to grab something from the jeep, coming back with a bottle of red wine, and a hoodie, that said YOUTH on the front.

He hopped back up and handed me the hoodie, I smiled at him, before throwing it on over my dress.

It smelled so good.

“You look gorgeous tonight.” He said softly. His arm was brushing up against mine, I looked up at him as I took his arm and put it around my shoulders. He was so warm.  

“You look pretty handsome yourself, Mendes.” I smirked looking up at him, to find him staring down at me.

 I watched his eyes flick from my eyes, down to my bottom lip that was stuck between my teeth.

I inhaled deeply, facing forward.

“21 questions. You go first.” I blurt out, leaning back smirking while I watch his eyebrows raise, thinking of a question.

“Okay, uhm, where are you from?” He asks facing me.

I explained where I moved from, and why I did. He seemed genuinely intrigued.

Okay, my turn.

“What makes you happy?” I said quietly.

You can tell a lot about someone when they talk about what brings them joy.

 We spent the next hour laying there on the hood of his jeep, drinking red wine straight from the bottle. We talked about everything from which episode of Greys made us the most emotional, to the things that make us feel insecure. In just a few minutes of talking to him, my confident façade when out the window. He made me want to confide in him. Something about his presence made me weak, it made me want to be vulnerable. So I was, and so was he. It was beautiful, really.

 There are a lot of things about this night Ill remember. Like the way his face lit up when he talked about his family and his fans, and his genuine love for them. The way his eyes got sad and his cheek quivered when I told him some of my darker times in life. The tone in his voice when he told me what my worth was.  This boy didn’t even really know me, but he did at the same time. He knew me inside out. 

__________________________________________

 Shawn’s  POV

Red wine always helps a little bit. She looked so good in my hoodie. I wanted to scoop her up and hold her tight, and kiss her until I couldn’t anymore.

 We started to play 21 questions. Eventually it turned into us just spilling our guts about everything in our lives up until that point. I want to blame the wine, but I don’t think that’s why.

I was comfortable and she was too. We could have told each other everything without second guessing it. She was insecure about her body, and her personality. I wanted to find whoever made her feel that way and kick their ass.

 “I just, wish I was more confident you know? I wish was confident enough to do all of the things I want to do. I second guess myself so much.” She bit the inside of her cheek as she stared out.

“I wish I was prettier.” She mumbled quietly. She looked down watching her hands fidgeting with each other. “I don’t think I’m ugly, but I just wish there was something WOW about me. Im so ordinary.”

She said, like she had thought it a million times.

I took my hand pulling her chin up to look at me.

“There is nothing ordinary about you.” I whispered, staring at her so she would believe me. She needed to believe me. She shook her head and quietly laughed, and she tried to look away but I pulled her face back to mine.

“You have wowed me more times than I can count, and this is only the first night we’ve hung out.” I smiled at her. “Everything about you is stunning. You need to know that.” I said looking down at her lips and back up to her eyes.

“Do you hear me, Y/n?” my eyes widened, ”I need you to know that.”

She softly nodded, I could tell by the look in her eyes, that this was the first time someone had made her feel worthy. She was though, she deserved to be told how amazing she was every single day.

 Before I knew what was happening her lips were on mine. Slow and passionate all at once. She pulled back, biting her lip and looking at me as he thumb brushed my cheek bone as she held my face.

 “Thank you.” She whispered, lightly kissing me once again.  

____________________________________________

Shawn's POV

The next morning I woke up with a permanent smile plastered on my face. Everyone around me could tell that I was in a good mood. Everyone also knew that it was because of a girl, but I still lied and told them I was just having a good day.

I couldn’t get her off of my mind. I had never in my life talked to a girl like her. I wanted to text her as soon as I got up to make plans. I waited until around 10 am, after I went to the gym. I decided to call her.

My heart pounded as the phone rang, waiting for her to pick up. The longer I waited for her to pick up the more I wished I would have texted her. Finally just as I was about the hit the red button on the screen, she answered.

“Hi there.” She spoke, I smiled instantly picturing her face.

“Hey! Good morning, what do you have going on today?” I blurted out, really smooth. I should have probably talked a little longer before asking her out again.

She chuckled.

“Well…” She drew out her l’s “I was going to catch up on laundry.”

“Do you need some company?”

“I would love that. I usually go to the laundromat by my apartment. I could meet you there?”

“Okay! That works, just text me the address.”

“Deal, Bye Shawn.” She said before hanging up. I don’t think Ill ever get used to the way my chest tightens when she said my name.

 Shortly after our call ended, she sent the address of the laundromat and told me she was headed here now. I threw my hoodie on, and a hat and left to meet her.

 I walked up to the building thankful that it wasn’t in a very populated part of town. Not that it mattered, but I really wanted to get to know her more, and not be distracted the whole time.

 I walked inside, smiling as soon as I saw her. She didn’t see me yet though. She was so entranced, it was kind of beautiful. She was humming along to the music playing over the loud speaker. Her hair in a messy bun, light makeup gracing her face. I could instantly tell that she really didn’t think about what she had on when she decided to hang out with me. That was one of the things I really liked about her. She was so real, all the time. I needed that in my life.

 I walked to where she was, she finally looked up, smiling at me as she put down the clothes she was grabbing to put in the washer. She walked up to me, holding her arms out. It wasn’t until then that I realized she still had my hoodie on. I smiled down at her as her arms wrapped around my torso, and mine around her shoulders. We hugged for what felt like a long time. I was glad that she initiated hugging me, because I desperately wanted to wrap my arms around her too.

 She let go of my waist and smiled up at me.

“Hi.” she said quietly

“Hi. That hoodie really does look good on you.” I confirmed nodding at her looking her up and down.

She backed up and fake modeled it for me, as she giggled.

“I know, I think I want to keep it.” She said shyly, biting her lip and raising her eyebrows.

I laughed, how could I tell her no.

“I think that’s a good idea.” I said nodding to her.

I instantly dove in helping her load the washer with her clothes, and getting change from the machines. Once the washers were all going, we bought an insane amount of junk food from the vending machine and sat down at a table near the machines she was using. We lucked out, we were the only ones in the entire laundromat.

“So…” she started, popping a peanut M&M into her mouth. “How long are you home for?”

I finished chewing my Twizzler… “I leave for a few European shows and press soon.” I said quietly. For the first time thinking that maybe that would be a deal breaker.

She nodded. “How soon is soon?” She smiles. 

I start to smile back until I realize that she probably isn’t going to like my answer. I know I don’t.

“I leave in four days, but Ill only be gone for a few weeks.” I try to reason already.

Her eyes instantly get sad, but she tried to cover it up with a fake smile.

“Then you come home for another week, before you leave again?” She laughs.

I scrunched my nose and nodded. I didn’t want that to be true, but it was. That was the reality of my career. A career that I loved. This was the first time that I had to think about how often I wasn’t home. I avoided relationships for this reason exactly, I knew how hard it was for the other person.

 I watched her as she got up and walked to the washer, as it was beeping, letting us know the clothes were done. She started putting them into the dryer, I walked over and started to help her. Once we had transitioned all of the clothes from the washers to the dryer she walked over to the wall nearby and leaned up against it. I slowly walked over to her. Placing one of my hands on the wall next to her head.

Then I used the other one to pull her chin up to look at me.

“Tell me what you’re thinking.” I mutter.

She breathes deeply, licking her lips before she speaks.

“I just… I really like you.” She says quietly.

I smile down at her, my heart pounding at the sound of the words.

“That’s good, I really like you too.”

“Do you like a lot of girls? Because I'm not that type of girl, ya know. I know you’re a Rockstar, and a lot of girls want you but I need to be the only one. You’ll be my only one and Ill be yours.” She started to ramble.

I giggled making her stop. She scrunched her eyebrows, silently telling me that she didn’t like that.

“First of all. You are my only one, the only person I’m talking to. You’re the only person I want to talk to.” I said matter of fact. She peered up at me biting the inside of her cheek. Something I’ve noticed she does when she’s nervous or anxious. She nodded at me signaling that she understood.

“Second of all, you are so fucking cute.” I smiled down at her, she instantly stopped chewing the inside of her cheek, when she lets out a little giggle. Her hand finds my neck, and she pulls me closer to her. Her lips ghosting mine, until I lean in a centimeter fully connecting them.

She gently pushes me away from her and wipes her mouth after we had been kissing for a few minutes.

“There’s a time and a place, Mendes.” She quips as she walks towards the dryer to check the time.

I tuned around leaning against the wall she just left, watching her silently.

 She slowly walked towards me, leaning into me.

“So four days hmm?” She asked me quietly.

“Ya know, there’s a thing called face time… right? Its not like you cant talk to me while I’m away.”  I responded, my hand finding the small of her back and rubbing gentle circles.

“Yeah I know, but I like this.” She said leaning her head into my chest. I sighed loving the feeling. She felt like the piece of me that was missing, and I didn’t even know it.

“Okay. Well for the next 4 days we can do this a lot, until I get back home.” I say leaning down to kiss her head.

She nods into my chest.

We stay like that until her clothes are dry. We fold her clothes, and pack them up, then take them to her car. Once she’s ready to leave. She walks the the drivers side of her car and I follow, opening her door for her.

“So, do you have anything going on tomorrow?” I ask

She smiles at me. “What do you have in mind?”

I chuckle “Well maybe, I could make you dinner at my place?”

She raised her eyebrows. “A man that can cook? I like it. Sounds like a plan.” She smiles and nods at me.

“Okay, Ill pick you up around 6.” I tell her. She nods, and leans in to hug me. I wrap my arms around her tight. She looks up at me with soft eyes.

“Thanks for helping me with my laundry.” She giggles.

“Anytime, honey.” I leaned down to kiss her nose.

She got in her car and I waited for her to drive away, before calling my mom to beg her to make a meal for my date tomorrow. 

__________________________________________________

 Shawn’s POV

 I sliced the tomatoes as my mom started to sprinkle salt and pepper on the chicken breast.

“Okay, now we will put the basil and pesto all over the chicken, then the tomatoes then the mozzarella.” She lists. “She’s going to love it, sweetie.” She looks up at me smiling.

 I start to do as my mom tells me. I spread the seasoning all over the chicken, placing the tomatoes delicately on top of it.

“I really appreciate you coming over to help.” I said silently as she started to prepare the salad.

“Of course, dear. You seem to really like this one.” She suggests, I see her peaking at me from her peripherals gauging my reaction. I smile bigger than I intended, but when I thought about her it was instant. Then thinking about her being around my family and how much they would like her. How could I not smile thinking about that. My mom noticed I assume, because I heard her chuckle.

 “I really do. I know its crazy, I barely know her but… she’s amazing.” I nodded looking up to my mom to see her reaction.

“There’s nothing crazy about it, Shawn. When you feel something, you feel something.” She soothes, as she rubs my arm.  I smile down looking at her, silently telling her that it was exactly what I needed to hear.

After she told me how long to cook the food for and helping me set the table, and pick out the perfect bottle of wine. I helped her gather her things so I could walk her to her car.

 I pull open her door, setting her things in the passenger seat, turning around to give her a bear hug.

“Thank you so much.” I kiss her cheek.

“Of course, honey.” She said getting into her car. “I can’t wait to meet her.” She winks as she starts to pull out of my parking garage.

I head back upstairs to take a quick shower before I left to pick her up. Sending her a quick text to give her a estimate of when I would be there. 

_______________________________________

Y/N’s POV

 Giddy, I was so damn giddy. I couldn’t stop smiling, and prancing around my apartment. I was trying not to think very much about everything. I knew deep down that there was a huge possibility that this wouldn’t work. My past relationships always worked like this. I thought I knew who they were, and they turned out to be something completely different. I didn’t see that happening with Shawn. Honestly, I was already so invested that I had to take it as far as it would go. However far that may be, I didn’t know, and that scared me.

I got ready the same way I did on our first date. Loose curls, light makeup, and another simple dress. The dress is a deep plum t-shirt dress I paired it with a denim jacket and as usual my white converse.

*DING*

SHAWN: Hey gorgeous, be there in thirty.

Y/N: See you soon!

 I patiently waited for my phone to signal me that he was outside. When It finally came, I couldn’t get to his Jeep fast enough. He attempted to park and get out of the car, but I signaled to him to stay in the car    as I ran the other side of the car. I close the door behind me quickly, and buckle my seatbelt. I look over to see him smirking at me.

“I like opening the door for you.” He raises his eyebrows.

I giggle, “I like that you open the door for me.” I confirm grabbing his hand and lacing my fingers through them.

“I just really wanted to do this…” I lean over the center console and pull his face towards me and connect my lips to his rapidly. “I wanted to do that.”

“Okay…” He says taking my hand in his and bringing the back of it to his lips. “only, this time.”

 We finally pull up to his condo. I make an attempt to not look super impressed by how lavish it was. We hadn’t even made it inside yet. I obviously expected it to be insane, but this was beyond what I imagined. We rode the elevator up in silence mostly because he knew I was soaking everything in. Then we finally got to his condo, and he unlocked the door. I took a deep breath in, his view. His view was the most amazing one I had ever witnessed.

“Shawn, this view is crazy.” I say walking closer to his window overlooking the CN tower.  

“I know! That was what sold me.” He agrees.

I heard him fidgeting with the stove, I look over to see him putting the meal into the oven. He peaks up at me as I watch him.

“You can go on the balcony if you want, Ill be out in just a second.” He smiles

I slide open the door and step outside. The wind hitting me hard at first, but I adjusted quickly.  I walked close to the edge of the balcony, peering out at the beautiful Toronto skyline.

I was so hypnotized that I didn’t even hear him come outside, I only felt him as he came to stand behind me. His arms pulling me close, giving me the warmth I didn’t know I needed. I sank into him, as he rested his chin on top of my head.

“That should be done in about 40 minutes.” He whispers looking down at me as I tilt my head to look up at him.

“Okay, I’m in no hurry.” I murmur, smiling up at him.  

After a few minutes of standing there a few minutes, he guided me over to the couch on his balcony  where he had pillows and blankets everywhere.

He sat on the corner of the couch and pulled me into him with my back resting against his side. His hand finding mine and playing with my fingers.

“Do you like living here?” He asked quietly.

“I do, I love it actually.”

“You don’t miss home at all?”

I shake my head no. “I don’t really feel like home is a place. I feel like home is wherever you feel loved, or you feel happiness.” I turn to look at him.”Ya know?”

He smirks nodding in agreement.

“That’s why I don’t mind traveling so much. I love being on stage, it’s like a second home to me.” He agrees.

“I mean I miss my family sometimes, but I’ve accomplished so much being away from them.” I look away from him, feeling myself starting to get emotional. I feel his hand tighten around mine, because he notices.

“They weren’t very supportive?” He questions.

I let out a scoff. “Yeah  I guess you could say that. I love them, but they weren’t the best parents.”

“You can talk about it if you want?” He says softly kissing my temple.

I sigh, I hate talking about it but I know that he needs to know this to understand the kind of person I am.

I tell him about my childhood, and how my mom and dad were never really around much. They both worked weird hours and partied like crazy. They didn’t plan on having me, so I kind of interrupted their party years. They were so immature as I got older it turned into me being the responsible one. With money, bills, school, everything really. They didn’t take initiative on anything. They didn’t care where I  was, they didn’t care if the water bill was paid on time, they didn’t care about anything besides themselves. So I decided that when I graduated I would move, and go to college in a new city, and Toronto was my final decision.

 “I’m so sorry, honey. That had to be hard.” He soothed as his hands ran through my hair.

“Its okay, I’ve learned from it and so have my parents. It made me who I am.” I smile at him.

“I really like who you are.” He says quietly grabbing my chin to pull it to his mouth.

 We suddenly hear the ding of the timer, and he hops up from the couch rushing inside and I follow.

He takes the hot dish out of the oven with oven mits, and I chuckle at the image. There was no way he cooked this alone, he looked so out of his element, but it was adorable nonetheless.

“Need any help?” I ask with a bit of concern lacing my voice.

“Nope! Sit down, I’m gonna make your plate.” He says scooping the chicken and salad onto my plate. He places it in front of me, and it looked delicious.

“Thank you, Chef Mendes.” I peak up at him smirking at me.

He casually watches me as I cut into the food and take a bite. He visibly relaxes when I give the food the nod of approval. We both, eat  and drink our wine rather quickly. I didn’t realize how little I ate that day until I was almost done with my food. He insisted on cleaning up alone, but I didn’t listen. I helped him gather all of the dirty dishes and load the dishwasher up. The entire time he told me to stop helping and sit down and relax, I just laughed and ignored his request.

We were finally done and my dress was soaked with water from rinsing the dishes before putting them in the dishwasher.

“See if you would have just went and relaxed, you would be dry.” He quips, smirking at me.

“I don’t mind Shawn, really. Its just a little water.” I say calmly.

He rolls his eyes and dismisses himself for a moment, when he returns he has a pair of grey sweatpants and a pink hoodie.

“You can put these on if you want.” He hands them to me.

“Great another hoodie to steal.” I wink at him as I disappear into the bathroom.

The sweatpants hung low on my hips and were entirely too long but they were definitely comfier than the  dress. The hoodie was obviously comfy too, but most of the comfort came from the way it smelled like him. I walked out to see Shawn waiting on the couch for me, his hands making a grabby motion as I walked over to him.

“Much better.” He said pulling me onto his lap. I readjusted so that I was straddling his lap, I watched his apples Adam bob when I did this. His hands resting on my upper thighs.

“Thanks for the clothes.” I muttered while I played with the strings on his own hoodie.

“Literally, anytime. They look so fucking good on you.”

I smile at him before I lean forward, kissing his neck softly. Making a trail to his lips, where I could spend hours. We kissed for a long time, until I softly tugged his lip between my teeth and pulled away.

“We have to stop.” I giggle, wiping my mouth. I knew I was getting turned on and I knew he was too, I could feel it. He started to blush. I wrapped my arms around his neck playing with the hair on the back of his head.

“I don’t want to. Believe me, but we should.” I nod. I want him to understand that it wasn’t anything he was doing wrong.

“Of course, baby.” He says lifting me from the spot on his lap to stand while he lays down on the couch.

Once he’s comfortable he pats the area in front of him, for me to lay down. He grabs the remote. Leaning up on his elbow to see the TV.

“Harry Potter okay?” he asks not breaking contact with the tv.

“Which one?” I ask watching him closely.

“Azkaban.” He mutters.

“Best one. I approve.”

He glances down quickly, “Just when I think you can’t get any hotter.” He smirks leaning down to kiss my cheek.  He presses play and I turn away from him so were spooning. He pulls a pillow under his head so his is elevated above mine. My head resting on his right bicep. His left arm wraps around my body, sliding under my hoodie. I felt his hand pause as he realized I didn’t have a shirt on underneath. I put my hand on top of his to signal that I didn’t mind. His thumb started tracing light patterns, I instantly relax into him. We watched the movie in silence for the most part, other than both of us quoting our favorite parts when they came up.

The movie ended and I turned so that I was laying on my back next to him. He was hovering over me, lightly brushing my hair from my face. His eyes flicking from my face to my lips a few times.

“What?” I ask quietly as he stares down at me, bringing a new shade of red to my cheeks.

He finally leans down ghosting his lips on mine, we kiss slowly for a while. His lips fitting perfectly between mine. He leans back, licking his lips. His hand on my chin, thumb rubbing softly.

“Needed to do that.” He says quickly before leaning down and kissing my nose.

 I look down to find his fingers lacing my own. I love the look of it, his hand looks so good with mine. I wanted to talk about what was next. I couldn’t formulate what to say though. We had only been on two dates and I was already cuddling on his couch with him. Which was an absolutely crazy thing for me to do. I have never been that girl, why was I with him? Everything felt so natural from the get go, maybe I needed to pump the breaks. I wondered how invested he was, I hoped that he was feeling what I felt.

  Shawn’s POV

She was stunning. Lying beside me, I couldn’t help but wish that I could wake up every day to this image.

“You should stay over, its so late.” I whispered as I played with her fingers in my hand. She takes a deep breath which made me nervous.

“I have to use the restroom.” She says quickly popping up from the couch. I pointed her in the direction, wondering if I just fucked everything up because I wanted to move too fast. I sat there for a few minutes, my leg bouncing up and down nervously. She walked back into the room with a smile, which made me feel better.

“I’m all yours.” She says plopping down onto the couch.

My heart fluttered a bit, hearing her say that. God I wanted her to be.

“Good.” I confirm moving to where I was facing her on the couch.

We sat on there, her at one end, me on the other. We just stared at each other for a while. She was fidgeting with the dead skin on the side of her nail. It looked like she wanted to say something a few times.

“This is crazy.” She mutters. Taking a deep breath, she slowly looks up at me.

“Yeah.” I agreed, smirking. I could have pretended like I didn’t know what she was talking about but, I knew.

“I mean… three dates, Shawn. I-I don’t know what to think about it.” She rambles, curling her legs underneath her. Her eyes searching mine for some type of guidance. Hell I was just as freaked out by my feelings for her, but I did know that it was something special.

I adjusted in my seat, smiling at her softly.

“Well… We like each other, right?” I ask

“I mean I like you, you like me too. Right?” She scrunched her eyebrows together.

“Mhm” I nod, laughing softly at her reaction.  

“So, maybe we should slow things down?” I ask tilting my head.

She takes a deep breath in.

“I think that might help.” She mumbles.

I look past her noticing that I had UNO on my book shelf along with some other random games. I crossed the room and grabbed the box of cards, returning to the couch. She watched me curiously as I sat in front of her shuffling the cards.

“One round of UNO, then I’ll take you home?” I asked smirking at her, I wasn’t quite ready to say goodbye for the night.  If she wanted to slow things down, I would do that for her. She smirked at me as she took the cards I dealt into her hands, taking one of my throw pillows and putting it behind her back.

 “So,” She said throwing down a red skip card, then a red 8, “You leave in two days.”

“I do, you gonna miss me?” I smirked at her laying down a draw two.

She scoffed picking up two cards and hitting me with a draw four.

“So you'll be able to talk to me while you're away, right?” She said delicately. 

“Of course. Are you okay with me calling? The time difference can be annoying.”

“I mean, If you want to call, I won’t mind.”

“I want to call. I want to Facetime, I want to talk to you a lot.”

“Good.” She blushed, laying down a green 4, “Uno.” She laughed softly. She picks up the cards and starts to shuffle for another round, I guess she wasn’t ready to call it a night either.

I knew, I couldn’t live without this girl. I wanted her to be on the other end of the phone every night when I was tossing and turning. I wanted her to be waiting here for me when I got back home, and I was going to do everything to make her feel the love she deserved.

[the--blackdahlia]

Fight Night (Tommy x Nikki)

Title: Fight Night

Prompt: #3 Let me see

Pairing: Tommy Lee x Nikki Sixx

Summary: Tommy is sent on a beer run.

Warnings: Homophobic slurs, Hurt Tommy

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“Faggot!”

The words hit Tommy’s ears as he made his way down the street, heading back towards the apartment that he shared with Nikki and Vince. They had sent him on a beer run, but he couldn’t find his car keys in the middle of the party, so he decided to walk. Normally, he could walk the strip and not be bothered, but tonight, the assholes were on the prowl.

“Excuse me?” Tommy asked, turning to look at the hecklers. Motley Crue had had a concert that night, but it had been well over three hours ago, and Tommy wasn’t in his stage clothes anymore. He looked more like himself.

“We saw you and the other queers up on the stage,” One of the guys said. “Does the lipstick come off when you suck each other's dicks?”

“Oh, fuck off,” Tommy was not in the mood to fight. He actually wasn’t even in the mood to party tonight. He was ready to go to bed. He had a headache tonight. And you know it’s bad when Mr. Party himself doesn’t want to party.

“You’re not so tough when you’re not in drag, are you faggot?” A second guy asked. Tommy was trying so hard to ignore them. They didn’t need to know who he liked to have in his bed. It was none of their damn business. Just like he didn’t offer that information to the guys in the band. They always saw him with girls, and he was just going to leave it at that.

“I bet he wants to put that pretty mouth of his to work,” A third guy added. Before Tommy could react, one of the guys had hit him, knocking him into the wall.

“Fuck!” Tommy called out, his shoulder throbbing. He swung his arm around, hitting his attacker in the face with the six-pack he was carrying. He dropped the bag that had the Jack in it. Damn, Nikki was going to be mad.

“You bitch,” The guy he had hit hissed at him. The other two were on him quickly, getting a few good jabs in. But Tommy was fighting back pretty well. His grandfather taught him to box when he visited Greece growing up. He knew how to duck and weave. He had a mean right jab. He was holding his own, until one of the guys picked up the lost bottle of Jack and smacked him in the head with it.

****

“Dude, Tommy was supposed to be back by now,” Vince pouted. “We’re all out of beer.”

“If you wanted it so bad, why didn’t you go get it?” Nikki asked, watching the singer lean on the counter.

“Because Tommy’s younger. He has more life in him,” Vince told him. Nikki rolled his eyes.

“You’re only like a year older than him,” Nikki laughed, but he looked at the clock and frowned. It had been about thirty minutes since Tommy left. And the liquor store was only like five minutes away by foot. “I’m gonna go outside and see if I see him.”

“Tell him to hurry his ass up,” Vince called after the bassist. Nikki sighed and made his way out, heading down the street towards the liquor store. As he approached an alleyway that went between two of the clubs, he heard a deep cough. At first, he thought it was a whino that had already drank his weight for the night, but something in his heart told him to go check it out.

He turned down the alley and sitting there against the wall, was his drummer. He had a gash on the side of his head, bruises on his exposed arms, and he was going to have a black eye in the morning. Nikki quickly headed over to Tommy.

“Hey!” Nikki called to him. Tommy flinched at first, until he realized who it was. Then he relaxed. “T-bone, what happened?”

“Fucking bigots,” Tommy groaned, his muscles protesting. “Jumped me. Got a few good hits in before they knocked me out with Jack. And not the way I like to be knocked out with Jack.” Nikki knelt in front of him, cupping Tommy’s face gently.

“Let me see,” Nikki said softly, brushing hair out of his face to get a better look. “Son of a bitch. I’m gonna kill them.”

“I’m okay,” Tommy told him, pushing himself to his feet. Nikki quickly stood up, helping him stand. “Three on one wasn’t exactly fair odds. Didn’t even have my knife.”

“I’m going to kill them Tom,” Nikki growled. “No one, and I repeat, NO ONE should ever touch you like that.” He kept his hands on Tommy’s face. “Fuck Tommy, they could’ve killed you. What did they say to you?”

“Nothing, okay?” Tommy stepped back away from Nikki. “Nothing. Just a random attack.”

“Bullshit,” Nikki stared the drummer down. “What did they say to you?”

“They called me a faggot, okay?” Tommy told him. “So what? I’ve been called worse. And I’m not ashamed of what I am.” His eyes widened as he realized what he had just said.

“Are you gay?” Nikki asked, watching him.

“Yes. No. I don’t know!” Tommy told him. “I like girls, but guys are pretty good looking too. I don’t discriminate against a pretty face.” Tommy sighed. “So, when do I need to leave the band?”

“What?” Nikki asked. “Why would I make you leave the band?”

“I dunno,” Tommy shrugged. Nikki shook his head.

“You know...you’re not the only one…” Nikki told him. Tommy raised an eyebrow at the bassist. Before he could even say anything, Nikki had cupped his face again, but this time, he pressed his lips to Tommy’s. Tommy’s eyes widened before he closed them and leaned into it, feeling Nikki pulling him closer. It was over all too quickly for him though.

“Woah,” Tommy whispered. Nikki just stepped back.

“Sorry, I…” Nikki started, but Tommy shook his head.

“Maybe we could do it again, but back at home?” Tommy suggested. Nikki smiled and nodded, helping Tommy get back home. Nikki flipped Vince off when he asked about the beer. He led Tommy to his room, not the one that Tommy shared with Vince.

“You need to get some sleep, and Vince more than likely is going to bring a chick back to your room,” Nikki told him. Tommy laid down on his bed. He didn’t realize how tired he was. “I’m gonna go back out to the party. I’ll be back later, okay?” Nikki leaned down and pressed his lips to Tommy’s.

“I’ll be here,” Tommy smiled before drifting off to sleep. Nikki smiled and left the room. But he didn’t go to the party.

He headed out to the strip, switchblade knife in hand.

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