#is it because i drank from the tap one time??? bc i knew the water quality downstate here in michigan isnt GREAT but it cant all be flint

[gu6chan]

my name is simon and i specialise in drawing comically naive cute boys and down-bad perverted old men the doujin scene woulda loved my ass in 2007

[all-you-need-is-paul-mccartney]

The Couple Next Door IX (Roger Taylor x Female!Reader)

Find Part Eight Here

A/N: Surprise! I’m briefly back from a year-long Hiatus and I have one chapter for TCND, one for ATU AND a George Harrison one-shot I’m just gonna drop and then probably disappear again for another few months. I’m also finding it even more difficult to write for Roger seeing as I’ve kinda been listening to nothing but The Beatles for the last fifteen months and I really only hear Queen at work, so that’s gotta change. But I am very sorry about the LONG wait. I really do appreciate you guys, and I think you’ve all waited quite long enough to find out what happens next...

Summary: Roger and Y/N spend the morning taking care of Bobby; they talk a little more about the future and come to the conclusion they both want the same thing.

(Let your imagination run free, bc this can be either Canon or Borhap!Roger)

WARNINGS: Swearing is probably a given at this point, self-doubt, mentions/ suggestions of sex (advise you to avoid if you’re under 18), and I usually revise when I’m stoned so there’s probably some typos in here too, sorry.

Rated T for Teen-- (I feel like a video game rating smh)

Bobby was crying again.

Granted, it was about seven in the morning, and he did sleep for the rest of the night.

Roger was the last of the both of you to wake up; not because of the crying-- he didn't even hear the crying-- but he was wrapped up in the blankets with you, and you were trying to remove yourself from his grasp.

"Don't leave," Roger grumbled as he pulled you tightly against his chest, eyes remaining closed as you whispered back to him.

"But I have to go. Baby's cryin'."

Roger loosened his grip on you, much to his dismay, and you slipped from his embrace, leaving him cold, and alone.

"Come back, Baby..." He really hoped his gravelly plea would entice you to return from the nursery after tending to Bobby, and although you were probably against having sex in your friends' bed, he figured there was no harm in testing the waters.

"That's not how that works when you have a baby, Rog. The day starts now."

Roger groaned in protest, but as he rubbed his eyes with the palms of his hands, he revealed to himself that you were no longer in the room, and the baby's cries settled when he heard your voice float down the hall from the nursery room.

Roger, as much as he didn't want to, tossed the comforter off of his body, and after rising to his feet and combing his fingers through his hair, he shuffled out of the bedroom and made a beeline to the stairs.

He was glad he was familiar with John's kitchen; because he was certain you had no idea where anything was, meaning he would be the one preparing breakfast that morning, and the one following it, most likely.

Fuck it, he would (try to) cook you up seven different meals a day if you asked him.

Anything for you.

He put the kettle on, and moved to the pantry in search for John's teabags, yawning lightly as he pulled the door open.

Nothing in the pantry really stuck out to him as being a good breakfast that morning, so Roger ended up migrating to the fridge after retrieving the tea, where his eyes fell on the carton of eggs on the bottom shelf.

He settled on making French Toast for breakfast seeing as he, according to you, made the best French Toast in England.

So he got to work whipping up some eggs and pulling four slices of bread from the bread box on the counter-- but not before he got one of Bobby's bottles out for you, warmed it, and placed it on the kitchen table.

Roger was frying the French Toast in no time, and he hummed gently as he busied himself with focusing on the now whistling kettle, and when the right time to flip the toast would be.

"... I thought you were still in bed," your words were sudden, and it made Roger jump a little. But when he realized it was only you, Bobby in your arms, his mouth contorted into a dopey smile.

"Nah," Roger turned the pan's burner down a little, and after he flipped the French Toast, he set his spatula on the counter, turning to face you.

"I was gonna let you sleep in, since you were so reluctant on waking up," you explained with a yawn. "But here you are awake, and making breakfast before me."

"Well it wouldn't be fair then, would it? Me sleeping in while you've all this work to do?"

"I don't know, would it?"

"I really don't think so, Dove."

He felt pride swell in his chest when pink dusted your cheeks at the sound of your new nickname, and he took this chance to swoon you further by pulling you in gently by the elbows, and he enveloped both you and Bobby in his embrace.

"Beautiful..." Roger's voice was barely a whisper as he touched his lips to your jawline, and you responded with a soft exhale.

"Even when you've just woken up," Roger mumbled against the skin of your neck, lips curling into a smile, "you are the prettiest goddamned thing I've ever laid eyes on."

"Mmm, down, boy," you purred back jokingly, taking a small step back. "Baby still needs to eat."

"Well yours is coming right up," he teased, "and Bobby's is already at the table." Roger pointed to the bottle on the other side of the room before tapping your rear. "Take a seat, and I'll bring your food over."

You didn't have to be told twice. You took a seat at the table, and although Bobby was growing a little agitated, it was short lived when you put the bottle of milk in his possession.

Roger, not five minutes after you sat down, joined you at the table with your French Toast and your mug of tea, made just the way you liked it, of course.

"'S the right tea, yeah?"

You took a quick look at the label hanging from the mug.

"Yep." Your eyes squinted after letting the label fall where the string tied to it would let it. "Y'know, you've been making my tea right for months, you don't have to check to make sure you're right."

"You know I'm always gonna make sure it's to your liking."

"And I love you for it."

"Hopefully for other things too. I'm not just good at being your barista."

"Oh, don't you worry. I'm not overlooking your other good traits," you smiled as you brought your mug to your lips and having the first sip of tea of the day.

As Roger sat down next to you with his own plate of food and mug of tea, he decided to wait on Bobby to finish so he could eat with you.

So, naturally, he took the time to evaluate again what kind of situation he was in.

There was nothing like watching you care for Bobby. Roger had known you for years, and not once in his life did he ever think he would be sitting next to you at breakfast while feeding a baby, whether or not the child was his own, or yours.

The whole scene looked too good to be true, though like the previous night, Roger just drank in the sight of you putting all your love and care into a child at breakfast with him.

How did you think you weren't cut out for being a mother?

This was in your nature.

The domesticity of the situation made Roger a little emotional. This was the closest he'd ever gotten to experiencing a breakfast with a family he'd built, and he spent every passing second filling his mind and heart with the beautiful sight before him.

"Y/n, you would make a wonderful mother." Roger's words left his mouth faster than his brain could register what he'd said.

You looked to Roger from Bobby, cheeks and tips of your ears darkening, and Roger was talking again before he could realize it and catch himself.

"Any man would be so damn lucky to have you. I honestly can't believe you stick around me still."

Your face was feeling real hot, now. Roger's head was still lagging behind his words, and clearly, he wasn't done talking.

"You could be out building a beautiful family right now, but instead you're babysitting with your best friend who you also occasionally sleep with. I just... I don't understand."

It took you a second to respond, but Roger didn't blame you. Honestly, he didn't even know what he would have said if he were asked the same question.

"... Well, I love you, Roger."

Your words were simple, and Roger knew your statement was nothing but platonic, but that didn't stop his heart from pounding against his ribcage.

You'd said those exact three words to him minutes earlier, but the context of the conversations contrasted their meanings.

"But we promised each other at the beginning of all of this that we'd be fine giving up pursuing family life if that means living with one another..."

"... You sound unsure, now."

The atmosphere felt heavy, and it was almost as if Bobby had known making noise wasn't in his best interest. He decided to finish eating at the right time.

"... It's not that I'm unsure. It's just..."

Roger waited patiently for you to answer, but you had noticed Bobby finished his milk, and you took the bottle from him.

You burped him, and placed a pacifier you pulled from your pocket in Bobby's mouth. You must have gotten it from upstairs before you came down.

"Let me," Roger offered his arms out for the baby, and you let him take Bobby. You'd stood up and moved to the sink to wash the bottle.

Meanwhile, Roger, who'd also gotten to his feet, was slowly walking around the kitchen. He was praising Bobby for finishing all his breakfast, insisting he was so proud of him, his smile wide and gaze adoring as he evaluated the child in his arms.

"It's just that. There. The way you're behaving with him," you turn to face Roger, finger pointed at him. "The way you're treating him as your own."

Roger's mouth opened and closed a few times, but after shutting his jaw for the third time, he decided the best thing to do in this situation would be to keep quiet.

"You'd make the most wonderful father, Roger. The way you behave with Bobby, god, the way you behaved with Raymond the other day," you sounded frustrated, and all Roger could do was watch you pace the kitchen, his sheepish face now a deep red.

"It's just that I would want the father of my kids to be just like you. I wouldn't settle for anything less."

Roger opened his mouth again to speak. He felt like his chest was on fire. Your thoughts were becoming painstakingly parallel to his, Roger had noticed. He couldn't get any words out before you started speaking again.

"Like you said last night, this job is giving us a chance to experience what it'd be like to have a family... and maybe I'm upset I did throw the chance to have all of that away."

You looked like you were on the verge of tears, and all Roger could do was watch you and listen to what you had to say.

"Roger, I hope you know you will always have a special place in my heart. You're my family, you have been for the last five years of my life, and there's no doubt about it. But being able to have a child..."

Your hands ghosted over the robe's fabric covering your definitely unpregnant belly. "... I think I want to have children."

"... Y/n I hope you know I feel exactly the same way."

And then everything was clear.

Roger understood where his band was coming from.

Getting married to you would solve all your problems.

He knew what the both of you were thinking in this new moment of silence, but there was absolutely no way Roger was going to fall to one knee and propose to you right now when he wasn't even romantically involved with you.

And he just felt it would be very inappropriate if he took this moment to spontaneously ask you on a romantic date with the intentions of courting you.

"Listen, Y/n," Roger finally built up enough courage to break the silence. Bobby cut him off with a short cry, and Roger immediately started swaying the baby in his arms. Sure enough, Bobby's agitation ceased, and Roger could continue, keeping the movement going.

"Just because we're living together without families now doesn't mean we won't be able to have families, say, five to ten years down the road."

At this point, although it was necessary, Roger didn't really want to mention the discomfort he felt when imagining you falling for someone who wasn't him.

Your eyes were big and sad, lip pouted as you considered Roger's words. "... are you sure?"

The idea of you and him having to move out of the condo Roger risked the both of your love lives for didn't sit well with him.

You'd be gone making sweet love to some lucky asshole who probably didn't deserve to be in your presence, while Roger goes on a bender, gets ahold of some weed and coke, and sleeps with enough girls to distract him from realizing he'd thrown the best thing in his life away-- you.

He didn't want you to think he thought you were selfish. The last thing he needed right now was to feel guilty for making you feel guilty.

So he just nodded. "No house isn't forever anyways." When you didn't respond to his little joke, he sighed.

"Y/n, we're still so young. You don't have to commit yourself to anything like that just yet. Enjoy being able to go out drinking with me every weekend, and sleeping in on our days off. Your chance to start a family will come when the time is right."

You let out a shaky breath. Roger was actually a little surprised with how well you were keeping yourself together.

But his actions put the both of you here, and to see that this conversation nearly reduced you to tears had Roger drowning in guilt, even without the help of mentioning any of his inner conflict to you.

"I just hope you're right." Your voice was broken and your fingers were tangled stressfully in your hair.

"Hey," Roger's voice had gone soft again, his rocking slowing to a halt, and you looked up to find him with an open arm, awaiting your touch.

You slowly unravelled your fingers from your hair, and you gave into the hug not moments later. Roger pulled you to his chest tightly, his free arm occupied by the baby.

"Y'know... I made you French Toast to start the day off good." When you didn't say anything in response, Roger pulled away from you just enough to look you in the face.

He was giving you that same look he did at the Garrison's again; that unreadable gaze he'd achieved with those big blue eyes that seemingly bored holes into your very soul.

His free hand slipped up from your back to your neck, and he leaned in to just touch his lips to the corner of your mouth.

So close, yet so far away.

It wasn't before long that he pulled away from you, but Roger just couldn't keep his eyes off you.

"You come sit down and enjoy your French Toast, Dove. I've got Bobby."

"But--"

"Please?"

Roger knew he'd convinced you as soon as he said that magic word. Though you took a moment to look from the bundle in his arms to the breakfast you really were dying to dig into, you eventually sighed out a gentle "thank you," before taking your seat again at the table.

He came around and kissed the top of your head. "Enjoy, Honey." Roger took a seat next to you, Bobby still in his one arm, and the both of you ate your French Toast in relative silence for the first few seconds.

"... God, you really do make good French Toast, Blondie." Roger was smiling now. At least you were talking again.

"I only improved my cooking skills for you, y'know," he admitted with a mouthful of his food, though he didn't sound ashamed of it.

"And thank God for that. Cooking every other night sure beats cooking every night."

"You can say that again," Roger mumbled before shoving the last of his breakfast into his mouth. You still slowly ate away at your meal, and Roger was making funny faces at Bobby in between taking sips of his tea.

The telephone in the living room started ringing, and you stood up to go get it, but Roger immediately dropped his fork and grabbed your wrist.

"Nuh-uh. I just finished eating. You still have a little bit to go. Take Bobby and I'll get it." You scooped the baby up without another word, smiling when he opened his eyes.

"Can you at least bring back his rattle from his play pen?"

"Can do, Princess," he called over his shoulder as he approached the phone.

"H'lo?"

"Roger?"

"Oh, hey, John!" Roger tucked the phone's handset under his chin, carrying the telephone in his left hand so he could get Bobby's rattle.

"Isn't it a little early to be up?" Roger glanced at the clock, which read that it was quarter after seven.

"Biological clocks. Just wanting to checking in. Is Bobby okay? Has he been any trouble?"

"No, of course not! He's doing fine, John." Roger tucked the rattle in his back pocket when he found it, and returned to the writing desk where the phone was meant to stay.

That was something he loved about you. You always bought him pyjamas with pockets. The concept was cool, and being able to use them was even cooler.

"Y/n's got him in the kitchen right now," he explained, taking the handset again with his now free hand. "We're all just finishing up breakfast, actually."

"Oh good. How is she?" John paused for a second, his voice dropping a little lower. "... How are you guys?"

Roger made sure his voice was a little quiet, as well. "John, this may have been your guys' best idea ever. I don't know why I was against this in the beginning."

"Really?! What's happened already?!" John, everyone would have guessed to be one to avoid certain kinds of gossip, though when it came to Roger's business with you, he liked checking up on that.

"I told her about all that family stuff."

"And?"

"And, well..." Roger set the phone back onto the desk and scratched the back of his neck. "... She may or may not be having the same problem," he mumbled.

"So... so you both want a family?" John tried clarifying.

"Yes."

"Then why are you two not together?!" Roger slipped away around the corner into the main hall with just the receiver so he was a little further away from the kitchen. He didn't want you hearing their conversation, or John through the receiver.

"Well I'm not asking her here!"

"Then where? And when?"

Roger knew John was just getting excited, and his questions honestly had Roger brainstorming every possibility when it came to asking you.

"... I don't know, yet," Roger said after a while of thinking. "But soon. God, it needs to be soon." He didn't quite know why he was pressuring himself to ask you sooner than later.

Maybe it was because he was scared someone much better and more deserving of you (or alternatively, a selfish prick) was going to waltz in and steal you from him just before he had you for sure.

"Do you need any help with that part? I can get Fred and Bri--"

"No no no, it's okay, John." Roger leaned up against the wall of the hallway, fingers tapping the handset absentmindedly with his eyes squeezed shut for a moment.

"You guys have already done enough, really. I... I think I'm good on my own from here."

"Well, I'm glad," John expressed to Roger. "It's not every day you need to help Roger Taylor get with a girl, y'know."

"This is different, and you know it."

"I just like to tease," John defended, and Roger could even hear a smile evident in his words.

"Anyways, Veronica and I will be home tomorrow around noon. Y/n's got our number. You two take care."

"Of course, you too," Roger was making his way back to the writing desk.

"Thanks. Oh, and Roger?" John added quickly.

"Hm?"

"If you two end up doing anything, for God's sake, please wash the sheets."

As John was speaking, you'd walked into the living room with Bobby in your arms. "We're gonna go and have some play time, now! Yes we are!"

Roger was too panicked by your presence to even realize you weren't paying any attention to the phone call, and he hoped to God you didn't hear a single thing John had said. "Yeah-yes! Laundry. Will do."

He nodded his head once, though John couldn't see him, and after saying their good byes, Roger hung up the phone.

He turned to where you were in the living room. You were looking in the play pen for something, and Roger suddenly remembered the rattle in his back pocket.

He pulled it out hurriedly and held it out to you. "Shit! I'm so sorry about that--"

"Don't swear, Roger," you took the rattle, a smile on your lips you both knew you were trying to frown away. "There's a baby here."

"What? He doesn't know what that word means."

"Well, the more you keep saying it, the more of a chance he has at that being his first word, and I do not need the Deacon Family hunting us down for teaching their kid swears." You looked from Roger down to Bobby, shaking the rattle gently and grinning when Bobby squealed happily and reached out for the toy.

You took a seat on the couch, and played around with Bobby while Roger went back to the kitchen to do the dishes.

From 7:30 AM to about 2:30, all that really happened was play-time and lunch, something Roger prepared. You offered to do the dishes, but Roger wouldn't allow it. He just suggested you put Bobby up for his nap. He'd fallen asleep in your arms during play-time, like he did with Roger the night before.

The both of you thought it was crazy Bobby would just fall asleep rather than cry, but honestly, neither of you were complaining. Quiet baby for the win!

Roger just finished putting the last plate on the drying rack on the counter as he listened above for your footsteps leaving Bobby's room. He dried his hands off with the dishtowel hanging over his shoulder after turning off the faucet.

From behind, Roger felt a pair of arms slowly circle his body, and he smiled warmly at the feeling of you pressed against his back.

"He asleep?"

"Mhm."

Roger's smile only widened as you inched your palms up his chest. He turned in your arms and pressed his hands against your hips, inching you closer as he leaned back against the kitchen sink.

"Well, what do we do, now?" Roger asked. He sounded like he was up to no good. With the sultry look in his eyes and the way the smile on his lips looked like he was repressing a naughty suggestion, he knew you knew he already had something on his mind.

"Well, I mean," your hands slipped up into Roger's long hair, fingers tangling themselves between the strands. "Anything, really."

You knew what game Roger was playing, and you loved how cute he was, thinking he was going to have you on your knees for him.

His eyes shamelessly raked over the top half of your body, and he squeezed his hands, still at your hips.

"What'll you be doing with your free time, Roger?" You took one more step closer to him, and he pulled you the rest of the way to him so your groin was flush with his.

"I'm looking right at her."

He was already strained against his jeans, and you just offered a smile, fingers tightening their grip in Roger's hair.

"Mmm... I kinda like the sound of that," you admitted lowly, half of a smile on your lips. You shifted your hips from side to side, and Roger tried to pull you even closer.

You rolled your hips against Roger again, and the cheekiness in his face fell with a look of long-awaited relief, and his head dropped to your shoulder.

One of his hands moved up to grab you by the back of your neck, and when he lifted his head to look at you again, his second hand dragged upwards from your hip to squeeze your waist.

Roger lifted the hand by your neck, and combed your hair back with his fingers. His eyes fell onto yours for a brief moment, and you could have sworn there was something he tried to tell you there.

You just couldn't read him.

But he didn't care. He pulled you in close again, and his lips were on yours.

You'd kissed Roger before. Not in public, but definitely in the bedroom. And they weren't very scarce. Honestly, if Roger's lips weren't somewhere else on your body, they'd be on yours.

But why was this feeling different from all the other times he'd kissed you?

He was being a lot less forceful and needy than he usually was.

His grip wasn't tight on you, and it wasn't like he was crushing you against him as if indicating he needed more of you, now.

He was holding you rather, and the hand at your waist circled around to press against your lower back. The hand on your neck shifted a little forward so Roger could gently slide the pad of his thumb down the column of your throat.

The both of you were holding your breath, and Roger was the first to pull away. The both of you sucked in some air, and before you could even draw in a full breath, Roger's lips were on yours again.

He pushed towards you, guiding you backwards until your back was flat against the refrigerator. His warm hands grabbed for yours and he pinned them above your head by your wrists.

Okay. This, was something you were used to. But there was nothing that could have prepared you for when Roger's hands loosened their grip on your wrists, and he was lacing his fingers between your own.

Your hands felt very small in Roger's. How had he never noticed that before? What else had he neglected to realize about you?

In that moment, he felt you pull away to breathe, and he looked down at you worriedly, fingers frozen, yet still laced with yours.

"I- uh... I-I'm sorry--"

"No no, don't be. It's okay," your response was very rushed, but you didn't skip a word.

There was about a minute of silence, your hot breaths mingling in the space between your lips, though your gazes were locked with one another, and you couldn't look away.

"Did-uh... did you want me to... to stop?" His question was gentle, almost sincere-sounding, but he still made no effort to move from his place.

"No. God, no." And as soon as you'd answered, Roger closed the space between the both of you again, his fingers unwound from yours to grab you by the jaw, and you just held his waist, pushing your body as close to him as he would let you.

He shifted around a little, and moved his leg between yours. You could feel his mouth bend into a smirk against yours, and he began to apply pressure to the apex of your legs with his knee.

Before long, as much as you wanted to resist it, you fell to Roger's submission, and as you waited for him to grab your waist and put you wherever, he hesitated for a second, and dropped his hands from yours.

You opened your eyes again to find Roger, face red, and staring at your chest. Not in an ogling way, but more of a method to avoid looking you in the eye.

He could tell you were looking at him, and he shifted his gaze to you. He itched at his hands awkwardly, mouth opening and closing as he tried to explain himself.

You just waited. You gave him time to think, and he had an answer for you sooner than either of you would have thought.

"I just... I wanna try something else. I don’t want to control you like I do every night."

It wasn't much of an explanation, but a good beginning to a demonstration.

"Will you come to bed with me, Y/n?" His offer was gentle, yet confident, despite offering a hand out hesitantly.

When you dropped your hand into his, all of the tension in Roger's being relaxed, and he quietly led you up the stairs, past the nursery, and into John and Veronica's room.

Before you could say anything he gently explained that he'd do laundry later, and then he pulled you in for another kiss he'd been waiting to give you since the last one.

Roger pulled you closer to him, hands cupping your face as his lips began to desperately chase after yours. You kissed Roger back with just as much vigor, but then he slowed the movements of his mouth, and guided you backwards until the back of your legs hit the edge of the bed.

Roger helped lower you down onto the bed, and he leaned over you, dipping down to kiss your lips again. He knelt between your legs, and pulled them up around his waist so he could lean in even closer.

You felt his hands squeeze your hips, and he pulled at your bottom lip with his teeth. You hummed lowly, your eyelashes kissing your cheeks as Roger pulled away ever so slightly-- just enough to pull his shirt off of him, and close the distance between your bodies again.

You tangled your hands into his hair, and he hummed in approval before pulling back just once more.

"I'm sure that's hardly fair..."

"What?"

"This," Roger tugged gently at the hem of your shirt.

"Why's yours still on?"

"... I never said it had to be."

Roger exhaled, and slowly pulled your shirt up over your head after you raised your arms to help him out a little.

He placed the palm of his hand over the smooth skin of your belly as he stared at your bare torso. And before long, he dipping down to kiss you again.

You reciprocated his actions, wrapping your arms around his neck and tightening your legs around his hips, to which he rocked himself against your core, and then---

Bam!

The headboard hit the wall, and Bobby woke up.

"Nooo..." you squeezed your eyes shut as the baby's cries began to reverberate down the hallway.

"Fuck!" Roger groaned, eyebrows knitted together helplessly as he climbed off of you. You both knew it was Roger who technically woke the baby up, and it was just silently agreed on that he went to put him back down.

"Dammit to hell, those separated headboards."

Roger opened the nursery door, and made his way to the crib in the corner of the room. Bobby's cheeks were wet with tears, and Roger's heart sank. "'M sorry, little guy. C'mere. Come see uncle Roger."

He picked the baby up and rocked him back and forth, though it wasn't exactly doing much, so Roger took a seat in the rocking chair on the opposite side of the room, swaying the both of them with a push of his feet.

Bobby's cries settled, and Roger felt proud of himself. Sure, he wanted to get back to what he was doing before, but instead he took his time in making sure Bobby was comfortable and not in need of anything before he drifted off to sleep again.

Bobby played around with Roger's fingers a few moments after his agitation ceased, and he couldn't believe how large his hands were in comparison to Bobby's. He was once that size.

A little while later Roger set Bobby down in his crib, and the infant was out. The drummer smiled at his accomplishment. He didn't even need your help.

With that, he left the room without a sound.

He stepped into John and Veronica's room, and closed the door quietly behind him. He was in the middle of turning on his heel when he stopped dead in his tracks.

You'd taken some of the pillows off the bed and wedged them between the wall and the headboard to keep the bed from making noise.

You were also splayed out on the bed in a lot less clothing than he remembered you in when he left.

With a teasing beckon from your finger, Roger knew three things were for certain.

1. You were the smartest woman he knew.

2. You were the most gorgeous woman he'd ever laid eyes on.

3. He, the Roger Taylor, had fallen madly, and helplessly in love with you.

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A/A/N: Again, you’ve all been waiting long enough for the next chapter, so here you are. i hope you all enjoy, and if my response is great with this one, I’ll see if I can spit out another one soon <3

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[turntechgoddesshead]

Promise

Hey guys! Remember me? I was the rando that said i was gonna write Sally Face fanfic, wrote one headcanons post and yeeted off the internet for a couple days. Well, i’m back and I did indeed write a thing. This is the beginning of a series, if ya’ll like it that is. I don’t know if this will end up as Larry x Reader or Sal x Reader but hell, i guess we’ll see. Anyways, here ya go!

Also feel free to hit me up for Headcanons, they’re fun warm ups. 

Words: 1624

TW: Mention of animal death, Parents leaving, and Juvy.

Y/n Is a girl and uses she/her pronouns, has freckles and glasses. Sorry haha, i have a hard time not writing in those features bc this did indeed start off as a shameless self insert. Y/N also has two dads bc happy pride month. 

~~~~~~

A tiny cry echoed through the hallways of the labor ward, as a new life had blossomed just merely a few moments ago. Her fathers welcomed her into their lives with open arms and tears shedding from their eyes, as they drank in ever tiny inch of her brand-new body. She was absolutely perfect to them, and everything that they had worked so hard for. Her tiny hand gripped tightly onto the finger of the man who held her, her small green eyes cried tears of confusion as the second man beside her smiled and placed a gentle hand onto the top of her tiny head of H/C hair.

               “She’s so beautiful,” The first man spoke to the other, failing to contain his tears. The nurses watched in silent anticipation as the two finally introduced themselves to the newest member of their family. The woman who sat in the bed, smiled happily watching the two interact with the baby which she had carried inside her for nine months. She was finally meeting the family she forever deserved to be apart of, and the family which she had so graciously chosen to give her baby up to. After passing the baby girl off to the nurses, the two men embraced the woman into a teary hug, thanking her for all of her kindness.

               “Thank you so much, for our little Y/N Moore.”

               Days turned into weeks, which casually turned into months, leading to the sudden and unexpected change that occurs within the years of growing up. Five years into her young life, little Y/N and her fathers moved into their own little slice of heaven, room 402 of the Addison apartments in Nockfell.  They happily lived along with the other residents, making friends with the Johnson family which resided in the basement below. Larry Johnson was the only child of his parents, Lisa and Jim, who was just excited to have another child his age in the complex. The two children eventually became inseparable, always in one room or the other inevitably getting into whatever trouble children at the age of five or six get into. Y/N eventually grew into a worrisome little girl, always anxious over whether or not the duo would get away with their latest antics while Larry easily concocted them in that little brain of his. Three years Into the Moore’s and Johnsons friendship Young Y/N and Larry played outside excitedly with a handful of firecrackers which Mrs. Lisa had brought home. Y/N expressed to the young boy how anxious she was about playing with something which her fathers would inevitably be angry about, but eventually calmed down and began to play after her best friend convinced her it would be alright.

               “Larry, be sure to aim it away from the building!” She told him in between her high-pitched giggles. Snow outside fell from the sky and landed delicately into her hair, just to melt moments after.

               “I don’t think you can aim them He-" Before the boy could finish his sentence, the firecracker went off, flying towards the building and into an open window, before exploding into a flurry of pops and whistles. The sudden silence after the firecracker ceased lasted for only a moment as a sudden screech emitted from Mrs. Gibson, the old woman who resided within the apartment. All color drained from the freckled face of the little girl as she gazed up at the window in horror, listening to the screams of terror and anger that omitted from just a few floors above her.

               “L-Larry,” Larry had cut Y/N off before she could even form words. He gripped her wrist tightly, pulling her out of the sight of the window. Hurriedly he tugged her along to the side of the building so neither of them could be seen, glancing around the corner once for caution, before turning his attention to his friend. Y/N’s face had grown ghost-like as fat tears began to form in her eyes and roll down the center of her cheek.

               “Larry, did we hurt her?” She cried, putting her face into her hands. Her sobs turned into hiccups as she constantly attempted to wipe the water off her face. The pressure of her best friends hands gripping tightly onto her shoulders, suddenly pulled her out of her panicked state. She looked up at Larry who seemed as cool as possible, his eyes were sharp as he looked down at her with determination.

               “No Y/N, we didn’t,” He told her, nodding his head, “You were up in the treehouse by yourself, I asked you to play, and you were angry at me remember?”

               Y/N’s breath hitched in her throat as she realized the weight of the situation, “No, Larry, I can’t leave you by yourself!”

               Larry shook his head.

               “Go sit in the treehouse, and count to a thousand. Once you do, climb down, and go straight home. When your dad asks you what you did, you say you played in the treehouse by yourself,” He ordered her, as though he hadn’t been coming up with this plan on the spot.

               “It’s not going to work!” Y/N continued to sob.

               “Yes, it is! Tell them you were mad because I nocked your glasses off with a snowball! But you didn’t play with me today, promise me you’ll do what I say!” Larry shook her shoulders slightly in desperation, before the girl eventually nodded to him.

               “Good,” Larry sighed, releasing the grip he had on her shoulders. He watched as his best friend turned on her heal and began to run towards the tree house.

               Y/N didn’t hear from Larry for two weeks after that. Her parents kept her at arm’s reach for what felt like an eternity, as she constantly wondered what her friend was up to. Every day she would ask permission to make her way down to the basement to see her friend, and every day she was denied. Weeks turned into months, as her parents protective grip seemed to loosen ever so slightly, reluctantly allowing her to wander the complex on her own after a plethora of begging on the young girls part.  She sauntered through the hallway, her eyes glued to the stained hardwood floor as she walked mindlessly, wondering about her friend who she knew was just five floors below. It wasn’t until the little girl had bumped mindlessly into another person that she was snatched from her anxiety inducing thoughts.

               “Oh, I’m sorry,” She spoke meekly, fixing the round glasses that sat delicately on her nose. Upon looking up, Y/N immediately recognized the woman with long brunette hair and much more empty than usual eyes.

               “Mrs. Lisa!” Y/N replied, her emotions suddenly too much for her small body to handle, “Is Larry here?”

               Lisa looked down at little Y/N almost painfully, her eyes bore dark circles under them, and she held the mop in her hand tightly, “Larry is down in the basement right now Y/N,” She replied calmly.

               Sheepishly, Y/N let out a small, “Oh,” and stared down at her feet as she rocked back and forth anxiously.

               Lisa smiled just a little bit at the little girl and pulled a small card out of the back of her pocket, “Tell you what though, why don’t you just go visit him now?”

               Excitedly, Y/N snatched the card from Lisa’s hand and hugged her with all her strength, excited at the opportunity to see her best friend once again, “Thank you Mrs. Lisa! You’re the best!”

               In a hurry she quickly ran towards the elevator and stuck the keycard in, which allowed her access to the basement. It took her only a moment to get to the apartment that was underground, but when she did, she eagerly ran to the door. Not even bothering to nock, the little girl opened the door and ran straight for the room where she knew Larry was. She opened the door to his room, noticing him laying on his bed with his hands behind his head and bulky headphones covering his ears as his foot tapped ever so lightly.

               “Larry!” She cried excitedly, jumping on top of the poor unexpecting boy, “I’ve missed you so much!”

               Larry scrambled to take his headphones off and toss his Walkman to the side, “Y/N?! Where have you been?”

               “Where have you been?!” She replied to his question, crushing him in the largest hug all while attempting to hold back her cries.

               Larry grew silent, looking down at his hands before looking at Y/N in embarrassment, “The firecracker killed Mrs. Gibsons pet rabbit.”

               Y/N let out a gasp and covered her mouth.

               “And they sent me to Juvie for a couple weeks.”

               “No!” Y/N cried, grabbing his hand in instinct.

               “Y/N I-“ Larry paused, looking at her before sighing, “I think it drove my dad away.”

               Y/N cocked her head in confusion and tightened the grip on Larry’s hand, “What do you mean?”

               “My dad left a couple days after they sent me away,” He confessed, his face burning red in shame. He looked away from his friend and steadied his breathing, as though trying to contain his own emotions, “I thought I drove you away too.”

               Y/N’s heart jumped to her throat as she defensively rose to her feet, “Larry, you couldn’t ever drive me away! Daddy and Papa have been acting so weird and protective, and now I guess I know why… but it wasn’t my choice I promise.”

               Tears fell down her face, but she quickly wiped them from her face and continued to talk, “I’m so sorry I wasn’t there for you, but from now on, we do everything together!”

               Larry smiled at her, pulling her into a hug.

               “You promise?”

               “Pinky.”

[2018shawn]

prosecco courage

warnings: unprotected sex bc they’ve had the discussion in my head prior to this night so if you haven’t wrap before you tap folks. smut obvs, swearing, light choking and a boy giving into a girls persistent ways

a/n: asbfjasds I feel like I'm so bad at smut I'm so sorry but nevertheless, here is 5k of it bc the live tonight finally got me to finish it. @shawnsmoose​ sent me an smol request about 20 years ago, so here it is n I'm sorry I don’t feel like I captured the choking very well sooooo big laughs 🥵👀 we’re here for a good time not a long time peace out x

Tom looked at the picture on his phone for probably the 176th time since you’d sent him it earlier this evening. Your phone was held in one of your hands, pointing towards the mirror to take the picture, a glass of prosecco in the other. Your body was covered in nothing but a matching, red lace underwear set, clinging to and showing off each asset of yours. He’d seen you in it once before and lost his shit back then and as it turns out – nothing has changed. Groaning and throwing his head back against his headboard, he tossed his phone aside, trying to get back to concentrating on writing the script in front of him. Deadlines were a bitch.

You, on the other hand, were in the corner of a club downtown, the red lace underwear covered by your sexiest black dress and topped off with patent, nude heels and matching bag. It was fun; the amount of alcohol you’d consumed soaking into your veins made it more fun that what you’d anticipated. You wanted nothing more than to go about your usual Saturday routine – face mask, bubble bath and your comfiest pyjamas. Or you most recent routine – face mask, bubble bath, your sexiest pyjamas and fucking the living daylights out of Tom.

The music was booming, the group of your girlfriends enjoying their time as they huddled around their booth, topping up their drinks from the ice-cold bucket in the middle of the table. You pulled your phone out your bag, feeling more annoyed as you clicked on your conversation with Tom seeing he hadn't sent anymore messages. After you’d sent the picture, he’d simply replied, be careful, let me know if you need picking up 💙

What a way to make you feel stupid, for not replying to the picture you’d sent to him. It had taken you almost half a bottle of prosecco before you’d even headed out the door to pluck up the courage to press send. It only spurred you on to drink more, to forget about embarrassing yourself to someone who wasn’t even your boyfriend yet. The more you drank, the more you thought he probably had girls throwing themselves at him; as much as he says he’s only seeing you, who’s to say he’s not the same as every other man you’ve dated?

It was getting to almost 1 o’clock, which you were proud of as a very rare clubber, but your drinking was slowing down, your stomach feeling full of fizz. Normally, you’d be straight on the phone to Tom, asking him to come get you but what was the point if he didn’t even want to see a picture of you. You gulped the rest of your drink in one go, picking up your bag and leather jacket – because London was cold in the winter – giving the girls the heads up you were leaving.

Several pleads to stay and hugs from your closest friends later, you were heading out of the packed club, heading to the taxi rank just metres away from the club entrance. Tom picked his phone up after another thirty minutes of working some more, his brain coming to a halt with words, only being able to think of you and that damn picture. He knew if he replied and gave you the response you wanted, you’d cancel your night out and turn up at his place, which he didn’t want you to do. He wanted you to go and have a good time, you needed it after how much you’d been working and grafting, so he’d finally persuaded you to go with them, telling you he’d be here plenty of other nights for you casual date night. He told himself he awake this late on a Saturday night, working, because he wanted to get the script finished. The reality was, he was awake this late on a Saturday because you still hadn’t replied and he needed to know you were okay. 

The taxi driver smiled at you as you sunk into the back seat of the black cab, “where to, miss?”-

A loud knock on Tom’s door at just gone 1:30am was the happy interruption he wanted for him to be able to close his finally close his laptop. He trudged to the door, wiping his eyes in an attempt to wipe away the heavy, sleepy feeling. He pulled off the chain, twisting the lock before tugging the door open, only hoping it was you the other side. And there you stood, your arms wrapped around your body to protect yourself from the cold and tom could understand why, the cold air hitting his bare top half, making him tense up. “Y/N?” He asked, blinking his eyes as if he was imagining.

“You’re an arse,” you spat, storming past him into the familiar warmth of his home. Despite your clear annoyance, he smiled at your presence, closing the door swiftly behind you to stop anymore heat from escaping.

“Excuse me?” He watched as you headed straight for the staircase, you high heels clicking over the hardwood floor before you kicked them off, tossing them to the side. Your hips swayed a little more than normal as you started your journey up his stairs, not caring that your dress rode up a little more than it had all evening. “And where are you going?”

“I need to pee,” you simply shouted, not bothering the turn around and look at him before disappearing out of his view.

He supposed he was meant to follow you, not very often dealing with the stubborn side of you thus far into your (not official) relationship. So he did just that. Locking up downstairs and switching all the lights off because he assumed you’d soon be crashed out on his bed, if the smell of alcohol as you drifted past him was anything to go by. The sound of the toilet flushing filled the empty silence before you reappeared, head leaning around his bedroom door to see where he was. On the bed, tom let his legs dangle of the foot of the bed, laying backwards with his arms flung across his face. You cleared you throat, and he removed his arms from over his eyes, sitting up and leaning on his forearms. The sweatpants that hung low on his hips, displaying the band of his boxers, were a total distraction from you being mad at him and he knew it.

“I’m an arse?” He asked, repeating your previous phrase with a hint of confusion in his tone.

You leaned against the door frame, still yet to enter his room as your arms crossed in front of you, body language telling him that you meant what you said, “Yeah.”

“And why is that?” He questioned, raising an eyebrow as you put all your body weight onto one side, your other leg bending at the knee. His eyes couldn’t help but wander over your body and admire the way the dress clung to your frame so perfectly and normally, he’d be ripping it off you, but he wasn’t sure you wanted that from him right now.

“You ignored my picture.” Oh so this is what it’s about he thought to himself, a smirk subconsciously appearing on his lips. He got up from where he was sprawled on the bed and walked over to you, his hand snaking around your waist, all the time keeping the cocky smile on his lips. “Don’t smile, you jerk. I felt stupid! I felt… like you didn’t want the picture. Like I was just some other stupid girl that had fallen head over heels for you and was trying to woo you. It was humiliating…” you hiccupped, your hand coming up to cover your mouth, “… and now I’m really drunk because some guy bought everyone at the table drinks and I wasn’t gonna but I though hey, if Tom doesn’t want the attention then someone else sure as hell…” His lips crashed on to yours, stopping you before you let anything else leave you mouth. He hated to hear that he made you feel stupid. He hated even more that you felt like you needed to get the attention from another guy, but he couldn’t say too much because, technically, you weren’t officially his.

He pulled his lips away, licking off the taste of jägerbombs and vodka, letting his forehead rest against yours. “You know, I had to stop myself from looking at that picture and being a horny teenager all night. If I replied what I really want to reply, you wouldn’t have gone out and had a good time.”

“I need to sit down.” You demanded, and you didn’t know if it was the alcohol that was making you dizzy or if it was just the way he just won you over every single time. He laughed softly, pulling your arm and sitting you on the bed.

“I’ll be right back,” he told you before disappearing out of the room, returning minutes later with two bottles of water and some medicine in his hand, “take these.” He handed you two small pills, opening the bottle for you as you popped them into your mouth. He helped you in drinking some water, his spare hand resting under your chin and tilting it back as you let the ice-cold liquid wash down the medication.

For the first time of the evening, your lips curled up into a smile as a way of saying thank you as he put the bottles of water on the bedside table, your stubborn personality restricting you from saying it out loud. “He asked for my number...” you don’t know why you were saying it, because at the time you turned your back to the creepy stranger and pulled a sicky face, and you most definitely were not interested. The only thing you was interested in was getting some form of reaction from Tom. But it was as if you’d forgotten the words he’d spoken to you before you felt like you was about to throw up everywhere.

“Pardon?” You words stopped him dead in his tracks as he was about to walk past you, stopping striaght in front of you instead. He didn’t say it aggressively, he didn’t say it like he was annoyed, but you knew he was saying it just to make you repeat yourself for the sake of it.

“He... I’m...” suddenly you felt nervous and gulped as Tom hovered over you, looking down as you sat on the bed, staring into his torso because you were too scared to make eye contact. His body was insane, even more so when he’s stood directly in front of you and your eyes can’t even manage to look away. Each pair of abdominal muscles felt warm against your cold finger tips, the feeling of him tense underneath you sending a flush of heat to your core. His hand wrapped around your wrist, putting a pause on any gentle touches you were giving him. Your eyes finally pulled away from his chiseled feautures, slowly drifting up until they connected with his. “He asked for my number.”

“And what did you say, darling?” His voice was soft, again, not like he was annoyed. You kind of wanted him to be annoyed though, you wanted him to want you as much as you wanted him.

“I… I said I was seeing somebody else.” You couldn’t help but rebel against his grasp, wriggling your hand out of his firm grip and returning it to his lower stomach. Fingers traced the waistband of his sweats, and you thought the outline of his dick was more prominent that is was before. You wanted to show him that you wanted to be his because rejecting one other guy was just not enough.

“Love…” he started, grabbing your wrist again, “not whilst you’re this drunk.” You rolled your eyes and threw yourself back to the bed, landing with a thud against the feathery duvet. “I’m gonna get you some clothes.”

In all honesty, he couldn’t look at you for a minute longer because he wanted to rip the stupid, perfect dress off and have you underneath – or on top, whatever, he wasn’t fussy – him all night long. He knew he was bad with words; he knew he never let on his true feelings and that’s probably why he’s had so many failed attempts in the past. But you were different, he was closer to telling you how he felt more than he ever had been with anyone else. His shadow disappeared from over you, and you sat back up, watching the way his back tensed as he walked over to his wardrobe. Sifting through several drawers, he picked up a couple of options, assessing a few items to see if they were too big for you. He’d liked the fact you told the other guy you were seeing somebody. In fact, he loved it.

You sighed, wishing he’d put on a stupid top if he didn’t want you to pounce on him anytime soon. The black dress that covered your body, was being tugged over your head messily by your arms, almost getting yourself stuck in the mesh material. He still had his back to you as you threw it to the floor, smoothing your fingers over your body whilst assessing the presentation of that red lace underwear.

“You know, I really did have to stop myself, with that picture. You looked fucking incredible, Y/N.” He said the words whilst he had the courage to say them, usually defeated by his inside voice when it came to discussing how he felt. “I think I picked my phone up about…” He turned around, sweats and a t-shirt in his hands and his jaw clenched. His eyes widened at the sight before him; you lay on his bed, on your stomach, with your legs crossed in the air and head resting in the palm of your hands. You can imagine cringing at yourself in the morning, because being sexy didn’t come naturally to you.

“Babe, please don’t make this harder than it already is” he laughed, placing the comfy outfit on the corner of the bed.

“Make what harder?” You looked up innocently, through your fluttery lashes, putting on the most delicate voice you could muster. He admired your body, tanned and smooth. The freckles on your back he’d once spent all afternoon counting – around 57, if you’re wondering – were only partially covered by the strap of your bra, which stood out immensely against your skin. The matching bright red panties adorned your hips perfectly, sculpting around your curvy hips and peachy derriere.

“Come here, let’s get you dressed,” he held out his hand, which although you didn’t want to, you took, shuffling yourself up to sit on your knees at the end of the bed.

“But I don’t wannaaaaaaa” you whined, quivering your lower lip.

“But you gottaaaaaa” he mimicked you, sticking his tongue out. That damn tongue. Could be put to better use somewhere else, you thought, giggling to yourself like a little lovestruck teenager as he just shot you a look at you amusing yourself.

If god was real, he was stood in front of you, attempting to get you to bed.

When you reached over to the short pile of clothes he’d placed on the end of the bed for you and pushed them off the edge, so they landed in a pile on the floor, he rolled his eyes. “Oops.” You shrugged. Your fingers found the waistband of his sweats again and he was getting tired of fighting you off. It not that he didn’t want you, because he’d be crazy not to, but he just didn’t want to take advantage of your current tipsy state, he’d been brought up better than that. You pulled at his joggers, making him tumble forwards towards you, already cringing at your desperate and needy voice. “Why don’t you want me… Tommy?”

The nickname was all it took to leap on top of you, pinning you down. His hand held around your neck, holding your head still as you flopped back against the bed sheets yet again. If you’d have known, you’d have said it sooner. You couldn’t help but smirk, your constant nagging finally getting you somewhere. His other hand kept him from crushing your body, holding up his weight above you. His eyes were lustful, like he’d switched personalities in a matter of seconds.

“You don’t think I want you?” He asked, voice quiet but rough. His breath felt hot against your skin, and you wriggled underneath him for a brief moment, until he moved his hand from your neck and snaked it down your body, making sure to take his time until he got to your wetting centre. He cupped whatever of you he could, his warm hands meeting your warm core creating the most uncontrollable heat between you.

“No. I don’t.” you spoke, with a hint of bratiness portraying in your words even though you felt like melted butter beneath him. A quiet tut left his mouth and you think it was followed by a dark chuckle, but you couldn’t be sure because you’d zoned into a world of desperation. Your hips bucked up against his hand, only briefly getting more pressure from him.

“Fuck this,” he spat, crashing down onto your lips, his thumb tracing the outline of your swollen folds through the material of your damp panties. He didn’t want to give in, he thought he could be better than that, but you made it too damn impossible for him to going about a normal nightly routine without being so irresistible.

A whimper fell from your plump lips as he pulled away, instantly attaching to the skin on your neck where a faint red mark had formed from where he had grabbed you. He soothed the area with his lips, tongue lapping across the sensitive area. The strain against his sweatpants was getting intense, digging into the inner of your thighs the further down your body his lips travelled. You muttered a string of words, squirming beneath him.

His hand came from your aching middle, fiercely reaching up and cupping your breast like he was holding onto it for dear life. Beneath the lace covering, your nipple hardened as he caressed you through the fabric, teasing it in between his nimble fingers. He got off on seeing you pleased, he knew that, you knew that, hell, even Sandra next door fucking knew that. So when his lips didn’t stop at your stomach and continued further south, you knew you could count your blessings and say goodbye to your bratty attitude. With one hand, he tugged your underwear to the side, tracing your damp folds with his fingers. “Tom…” You breathed, desperate for his touch. He smirked, not that you could see, as his head bowed further into the valley of your legs.

Replacing where his fingers had been, his tongue followed suit of his digits, tracing your dripping folds and circling your throbbing clit. That was the first squeal of pleasure you let out, mouth dropping wide and hands coming up to his freshly shaved hair. You were annoyed he had to shave it off, wanting nothing more to run your fingers through his floppy brown hair and tug away at it. Grabbing the next best thing, your fingers bunched up as much of the duvet as they could grab as he continued to tease your entrance, the roughness of his buzzcut brushing against your inner thighs. Reapplying pressure from his fingers caused your second squeal, your chest showing your heavy breathing and back arching into him. He squeezed your breast intensely in an attempt to communicate with you whilst his mouth was busy elsewhere. If this is where being drunk got you, you thought you’d start drinking every day, because never before has he loved and performed with such hungry passion like this.

The sound of his lips working against your cunt was the only thing filling the room, other than the sounds of your whimpers and whines. The vibrations shuddered through your body as he hummed into you, his hand trying to reach further up and find a place back on your neck. He noted your heavier breathing and the way your legs wrapped around his shoulders, getting tighter by the second. He knew you well enough to know that he could make you cum, just from using his mouth, but he didn’t want that. He wanted to push you, like you had pushed him.

When he was unsuccessful in reaching to your collar, he pulled away from your ridiculously wet core, sucking on your clit and pulling away with a pop, regaining his breath and wiping his mouth on the sheets beneath him. “You really do want me, huh?” He smirked, crawling up until he was face to face with you, admiring your flushed and rosy cheeks. Your teeth captured your bottom lip, nodding silently to his question, feeling unsatisfied with the lack of touch. He sat up on his knees, in between your legs, and tugged at the waistband of his sweats and boxers, pulling them down his legs, for what felt like the longest time, until his member popped free and you’re suddenly aware of how wet you are for him, feeling your panties stick to you.

“P-please, Tom” you breathe, hands releasing the ball of material in your hands and reaching up for him. He snaps your hands away, still annoyed by your persistent plan to get him to this point and he pushes them above your head, your arms stretched out as much as can be.

“Get up.” He demanded, moving back away from you to give you enough room to slide out. You remained stuck to the bed, however, confused by his sudden instructions. Was he kicking you out? Had you literally been that desperate he didn’t wanna do it?

“Huh?” You questioned as he shuffled back on his knees until his legs could slide off the foot of the bed, landing on the floor with his sweat’s puddled around his ankles.

“Get up.” He repeated, same tone but slightly higher volume. You sat up, wiggling your bum until your legs also fell over the edge of the bed. Your legs were wide, his body inbetween them as he traced his hand up your skin, starting at the valley of your breasts and finishing at your neck. His large hand cupped your jaw, and it the most delicately forceful way possible, he put pressure onto you, forcing your body to stand upright as you followed the direction of his touch. As soon as you were stood, legs threatening to buckle beneath you any minute, he once again soothed over the red mark around your jaw, relaxing his tongue against your skin.

Your arms bent around to your back, fingers clasping at the buckle of your bra, until he he caught you, pulling his head sharply away from your neck and capturing your wrists in his hands. “No,” he said, voice gentle this time, as if you were about to walk out the door and never come back.

“No?” You asked, relaxing your shoulder and letting your arms drop to your side.

“No.” He repeated, more definite with his tone of voice this time. “You wanted me to see this little ensemble...” His hands pointed over your body before they found your hips, twisting your body round 180° so you were facing the bed, your back facing his front. You got his gist, mentally cursing yourself as you was reminded of the picture. You were thankful for the alcohol, though. You wern’t sure you’d be so confident in it without the help of your little friend, prosecco.

You bent forewords, walking your hands across the bed until you were happy you were bent over far enough, your ass higher in the air than the rest of your body. Blonde curls slinked over your shoulder as you turned your head, and what you saw was nothing but a beautiful sight. 

Toms arm tensed as his hand wrapped around his hardened length, a groan of pleasure leaving his lips from the anticipated touch. He pumped himself a few times as he admired the way the lace decorated the curves of your ass; the Brazilian fitting showed off the creases of your hips and the soft natural stretch marks which he could spend hours kissing. His bottom lip was sucked in by his teeth and you reciprocated the action, staring up lustfully at him.

You wanted to beg. You wanted to push your ass back so you could feel his cock against you. But before you had time to decide if that was a wise idea, he took two small steps foreword, lining himself up with the centre of your body. You sucked in air, stomach knotting with butterflies as you waited for him where you most needed him. At tap from his hand on your ass jolted your body forwards, falling onto your forearms and chest flush against the bed.

You didn’t dare look back, not knowing how much more of him you could look at before you jumped ship and ended up getting yourself off. The feel of him pushing your pants to the side made you jump, a gasp escaping you as he ran his index finger up your folds, making sure you were wet enough. Satisfied with how he’d made you dripping with juices, he nudged the tip of his cock against you. Simultaneously, you both let out a moan, both needing it as much as each other. When he pushed into you, at the slowest pace possible to let you adjust around him, he gripped his right hand around your hip to hold you in place.

He began slow, grunting behind you each time you pushed back onto him. A string of unforgivable words left your mouth as you kept a straight posture, noting how the headboard smashed against the back wall as his thrusts grew deeper, the sound synchronised with the sound of his hips smashing against your ass. He released your hip, reaching forward and grabbing a fistful of your bouncy hair. Tugging your hair towards his body, you squealed as your head followed, back arching in the most flexible manner. Whilst keeping hold of your hair, he reached further round, grabbing the front of your neck to keep you from falling foreward to the bed.

The feeling of him clutching onto your neck sent your mind into overdrive although you struggled to spit out an approving moan, your throat being restricted by the pressure of his hand. Your legs began to quiver, bucking beneath you. Tom flipped you over in one swift movement, hand remaining on your neck the entire time as he thrusted back into you, hating the feeling of being out of you; even 2 seconds was too long. He held you there, by your throat, reminding himself that you were here, with him, and not that stupid guy at the club. He wanted you to know he was holding onto you because he never wanted you think about another guy again. He wanted you to know that he felt utterly awful for not making you feel as good as you should about that picture. He wanted you to know, that he wanted you. 

He felt himself getting close, more so now he was face to face with you, adoring how your mouth fell open, lustful eyes meeting his. When you bit your lip and giggled, he couldn’t understand how he was on top of, choking you and fucking you until you forgot about the sleazy guy at the bar, yet you could be the cutest human on the planet. He relaxed his hand, swiping his thumb over your lip in what you found to be more of a delicate moment compared to the ones he’d been showing you all night. His head bobbed down, lips hovering over yours as he spoke quietly. “I want you.” He breathed, tensing and twitching as you wrapped your legs around him, “so fucking much.”

His words were genuine, but you couldn’t understand. He had you. Underneath him. In his bedroom. At 2am on a Sunday morning. “You’ve got me.” You breathed, fingers playing with the hair -or lack of - at the nape of his neck as he rested his forehead on yours. He felt sticky, but you were sure that you did too. 

“All the time?” He asked with a quiver in his voice, but you put it down the the fact you were both on the edge of a climax. You just nodded, biting your lip to stifle a squeal at both your orgasm and excitement of his words. His hips didn’t stop or slow down like you expected them and you knew you were on the brink of finishing, fingers clutching and digging into his back at an attempt to hold on longer. 

“Tom... I- I’m-” You struggled to talk, cutting your sentence short and interrupting yourself with a scream, your eyes rolling back and squeezing shut. He breathed into the crook of your neck, a small mmhmm humming through hip lips in agreement. When his rhythm slowed as hips jolted fewer times, but with more deep and powerful thrusts, he nudged your spot, leaving you crumbling beneath him whilst a string of ohmygod’s and fuck-tom’s left you, your voice shaking in tune with your legs. 

Your hips jolted upwards as your came around from your climax, pushing into him as he experienced his own. His arm snaked round your back, pulling you into him as if you lifting up to meet his thrusts wasn’t enough, before he was moaning in your ear, sending shivers through your body like nothing you’ve ever known.

Neither of you knew how long you’d been there; him on top and still inside you and you catching your breath beneath him. But you both did know, is that you wanted to be there for forever more. It was maybe minutes until he rolled out of you, flopping back onto the bed with a satisfied groan. He still had an arm underneath you, and he tugged it, rolling you onto your side and further into his body. You aching centre felt sore, but very well loved and you couldn’t help but smile. “So... about that guy at the bar?”

“What about him?” Your eyebrows furrowed, not expecting that to be the first thing to come up after having mind blowing sex. 

“I’m gonna fuck him up for speaking to my girl.”

------

taglist: @imaginashawnns​ @fallinallincurls​

[alias-b]

A/N: Just for the anon who requested a blurb of some Hopper/OC where Jim takes care of a diabetic gal when she goes into hypoglycemia. Frankly, I don’t have the details of this fic ironed out. A LOT is up in the air bc I’m changing everything I had written so let’s just pretend my OC, Lucy, is filling in for Flo bc she has some family thing to tend to for a couple months. This is a taste of them I guess? Fluff and pining? Pancreases suck. Billy/Camille is still my focus! But, this drabble was fun! Also, the first time Jim/Lucy is seeing the light of day. Thanks, anon! XOXO

Signals

   Jim hated her dress.

  Too bold for the morning especially when he was nursing a headache at daylight. Candy apple red like something from the Fourth of July Fair. Dash of citrus orange. Mouths watered for a bite. Tacky print that was vaguely tropical and sketched onto fabric. Loud against all the khakis and blues dancing around her.

  Lucy enjoyed vibrant garments for someone who said very little. Some would say shy until you got her talking. Took months of careful banter to get her joking with the boys. But, the clothes fooled you.

   They made for good conversation when El visited the station once. Not like there was a dress code for the secretary, she was always put together. Colorful and saccharine through all four seasons.

  Today, the fans blew her skirts and perfume all about. Filled the station air with her. Jim readied to drop a file on her desk and caught lashes fluttering up to see his eyes. Hair blown out perfectly against a little desk fan for a look that was pure Hollywood. She stood out under dull lighting, skin bronzed and glittering brown eyes you could sink in.

  And how he resisted.

  “Something for me, Chief?” It wasn’t until a manicured hand tugged at the papers that he realized he’d been hovering there like an idiot for a good minute. “I’ll file it. Still waiting on Callahan’s report.” She tucked her hair, oblivious, and stood to turn to the row of cabinets. Bending over to organize it properly away in the correct place.

  Everything was just so. Neat. Straight as an arrow. Often she stilled to put items in their correct places. Straightening pens an inch apart exactly or adjusting supplies upright. Like she was forcing a messy world to make sense.

  “You finish the-?”

  “Just typed it.” A flick of her wrist plucked a paper up from the typewriter, offering it. Mauve painted lips spread to smile. One that dazzled his boys. “Next one won’t be long.” Jim exhaled out his nose. Took it.

  “Thanks.”

  He hated her dress.

  Hottest week of summer and the air conditioning goes out, meaning battle stations. Every ceiling and desk fan on full blast. Few of the guys brought standing ones from home.

  Papers threatened to fly all over were it not for Lucy smacking anything she could down as a weight. Staplers, pictures, apples. Shiny like her damn dress. Nothing was out of place on her watch.

  “You ever see the movie Seven Year Itch, Chief?” One of his officers had said later at the moment Lucy gasped to stop files from tossing upon Callahan’s desk.

  A whoosh of air threatened the delicate balance. She planted his nameplate down at the same time hands slapped a swell of forms from flying away. Her skirt had flown up tender thighs to expose the garters holding nude stockings briefly.

  Gulp.

  “Would you quit acting like an animal?” Jim whacked the officer’s legs off his desk. “Mrs. Gillespie called again, all yours.” His guy huffed and plucked a hat up to go.

  “You saved my day, Lucy.” Callahan’s nervous laugh caught.

  “You owe me.” Lucy tapped the papers together and offered them. Jim poured himself another full coffee. She stood up and crossed through the sea of desks back to reception. Eyes followed the splash of color. “Handyman should be here in an hour. Unless one of you boys wants to impress me?” Two officers actually shot up to go downstairs hoping to fix the damn AC.

  “Shouldn’t make bets like that, they’ll kill the rest of the power.” Jim had one elbow up on a file cabinet, sipping.

  “Does that mean an early day for us?” She busied away to sort the in and out stacks upon her desk.

  “Afraid those rules don’t apply to us.” Jim shifted when her perfume swept him at the fans beckoning. Beautiful by Estee Lauder. Only knew because he bumped into her buying it at Starcourt a few weeks ago. Ran away after some small talk. “Don’t like it here?”

  “Like it plenty.” Brown eyes made a slow journey to see him over her shoulder. “Never a dull moment.” Jim’s lips quirked at that. A ways behind him, Powell was fiddling with the radio to let music pour over the rustling sounds of fans against pages. Lucy reached for her own mug and Jim caught a bead of sweat trail down the back of her neck.

  “Any left in the pot?” She said.

  “Davis snagged the rest.”

  “Fresh pot it is, then.” Lucy blinked up at him looking flushed.

  No pink in her cheeks despite the heat.

  Jim crossed away to Powell’s desk when she instead began another batch of coffee. Picked up the pot and felt a dull electric sensation pulse through fingers. Gave it a quick wash and waltzed back in. Lucy set it in place and stared momentarily as if the next step was forgotten.

  That same prickling flooded the length of her spine. Heat itched over her scalp as boys chattered behind her. Jim leaned against a short counter and chuckled at something she didn’t catch. Fingers flexed. Picked up a spoon to fill the paper filter. The prickling became heavier. She inhaled deep, leaned into the fan next to her. Swayed a little upon heels. Waves rolling along a distant shore.

  A hand came up to rub her neckline. Felt for the thudding pulse there. Shifting dark, styled locks of hair away.

  Jim’s eyes lifted at the movement of her skirts. The following stillness that took her over. Lucy wasn’t as loud as she dressed, but she was always moving. Even at her desk. Shifting about. Twirling hair. Clicking nails. Fussing with file after file. Rearranging anything and everything.

  The rustling and radio became one sound. A shrill bellow like a gust of static. Lucy spooned coffee grounds. Once. Twice. A clatter caught Jim’s full attention. The silver spoon hitting the tile with powdery grounds scattering the toes of her shoes.

  “Lucy?” He began, setting his mug aside when the few officers in turned as well.

  “S-Sorry...” The word slurred longer. She bent down, only got halfway before her hand came up to a pounding temple. Like something struck her. Lucy shot up so fast, she barely caught herself wavering back. A drunken sort of movement. Both arms gave a tremor.

  “Lucy!” Jim sprang forward this time. A big arm curled around her spine, brought her shaking body into his frame. One elbow instinctively pushed at his chest. Fingers came up to tug her collar in a confused motion.

  “Spilled.” She said with little awareness, eyes hooded.

  “I’ll call-”

  “Grab a soda from the fridge.” Jim snapped the order before Powell could get the phone. “Now!”

  “But-”

  “She’s a diabetic, she needs sugar. Do it.” The harder command made him move quick.

  “Lemme go.” Syllables weaved together awkwardly. Lucy felt around herself. Smacked up at Jim holding her upright. Her head twitched with every rattle of bones. Limbs stopped listening. Synapses sent messages all directions that were ignored. Flesh could have melted off bone and muscle. “Lemme go!” Sweaty and irritable, she blindly pushed at Jim who only brought her tightly against the hard lines of his chest.

  “Chief.” Powell clicked the can with Callahan hovering to help aimlessly.

  “Lucy, drink this.” Jim almost had the can shoved out of his grip. Crisp soda splashed the floor.

  “Got it...I got...it.” She skidded. Dug her heels into the tile. “Cookie. M-My purse. Ngh, lemme go!” She’d drop if he released her.

  “Soda is better, drink it.” Jim forced the can to her lips while she whipped around. Arms curled to her chest until her body was near convulsing. Fizzy soda slipped between her lips, dripping to stain the dress. An ugly force pushed at her body. Lucy slowed, fingers curled around Jim’s wrist as she choked and drank some. Coughed and flopped up until it bubbled out her nose. “There, you go. Give it a second.” Jim was delicate, the way he helped her back into a stuffed chair with her legs all jelly.

  “Towel.” Callahan came next. “Should we call someone for her?”

  “Ngh...” The word didn’t come so Lucy shook her head fiercely. Childlike. Hand still wrapped around Jim’s wrist when he gave her another long gulp. Coke sloshed down into her stomach. Lipstick smeared so he traded the can for a towel to blot her mouth. Brown eyes fluttered open again, heavy. She felt Jim’s pulse and took a deeper breath. “Fine. Don’t call. Ju...Don’t.”

  “Give her some air.” Jim got his guys to back off. “Luce, are you with me here?” She swayed out and narrowed on him. Let him pat her forehead with the towel. A thumb wiped just under the swell of her bottom lip. Fixed the color that smeared there. Jim’s eyes locked on her, mouth parting. A lazy smile crept upon her expression. Jim’s arm was still firm around the curve of her limp body.

  “No one’s ever called me, Luce,” she rasped instead, “if you can believe it.” A scoff caused his own lips to lift. Blue eyes flickering.

  “No one’s ever gone into hypoglycemia in my station.” He’s countered.

  “Usually wait till I clock out.” She gripped at him and stole the towel to look at her dress, splotched in dark spots. “Aw, shit.” The word puffed so soft, he barely heard it. Never heard her curse. Lucy seemed to realize it. “Sorry.”

  “No, I...” Jim felt her fingers slip from him. Stared down at his hand before he offered her the Coke. Lucy pressed her lips at him but took it without argument for another drink. The towel rubbed against the wet spots, almost pathetically. He picked up on her growing discomfort. “I can drive you home or something. You want to change.”

  Lucy was still scrubbing herself with an annoyed look, slowing to glance up with pink cheeks. Every officer who was staring snapped away from them.

  She frowned.

  Anything to get away from those eyes peering as if she were helpless.

  “Fine.” The sour note struck Jim so he didn’t immediately pull her up. Let Lucy push herself to stumble into him. “I’m fine.” Jim’s hand neared her back, but didn’t make contact. Just carefully ushered her to reception to grab her purse. Still lightheaded, she slowed again and sighed. Took his offered arm. They got to his car and the sun blared. AC blasted when he started up to go.

  “Where’s home?”

  A beat.

  “Left up there.” Came the quieter reply. “I live on Elm.”

  “Sure you’re-”

  “Listen,” she cut in, “that doesn’t happen… I mean, it does, but not that bad like it did. Haven’t had an episode like that in a few months actually.” Fingers fussed to get her hair back into place.

  “Well,” Jim swallowed and tried to be lighter, “good thing you’re in a station full of Hawkins’ most observant police officers.”

   His sincere way of making her feel not helpless scorched.

  “Oh, are those their titles? All the napping and poker games between calls instead of finishing reports I have to beat out of them.” A brow raised, purse clutched close to her chest.

  “Wouldn’t fit on the badge.”

  “Ah.” Lucy turned her head to look outside with a smile. Hesitated. “Thanks, Jim. For, uh...”

  “Don’t mention it.” He gripped the wheel to turn.

  “The slapping at you and anger is, uh, part of it.” She offered mutely. “Get confused in the shuffle and...it’s scary. I never want to feel that damn helpless. Stupid fits. All because one organ is broken and that organ dictates the rest of them. Feed it insulin, too much kills. Feed it sugar to balance, too much kills. Big joke if you ask me, can’t make up its mind.” Lucy didn’t chuckle that time. Didn’t smile.

  “We’ll keep the fridge stocked. Soda. Juice. Whatever you like to balance.” He said. Turning to see her eyes lift. “You don’t have to go hiding in that ratty bathroom to test yourself or take shots, you know. Desk is fine. Not like the boys will get queasy.”

  “Bunch of tough guys.” She licked her lips, pulling a mirror down to wipe smeared eye makeup away. “Won’t happen again... This is me up here.” She pointed to a house.

  “Don’t promise that, just take care of yourself and we’ll pay attention to whatever signals you put out.” He parked.

  “Oh,” Lucy faced him with searing eyes again, “where you not before, Jim?” A hum vibrated her throat. Shy and still going in for the kill. Jim’s breath caught and she looked truly amused, batting those insufferable, dewy eyes before getting out.

  “Lucy.” Jim stilled. A long, luxurious beat between them. A warm bubble bath to sink into. Neither succumbed long enough.

  “Yes, Jim?”

  Nerves plucked.

  “Sorry, about the dress.”

  “I didn’t like it that much.” She smiled fuller at him, too soft about it.

  The door shut.

[every1studio]

REQUESTED: “all about that bass” [day6: brian]

genre: fluff + slight nsfw/profanity (how can I not with this man...)

ficstyle: bulletpoints + long

@shinjiminbaby asked: “ tsundere! youngk x college au please 😎😎😎😎😎 “

note: xoxo love you and this prompt bc brian is my bias~ hope you like it~

Kang Brian; aka Young K

everyone knows who he is 

but no one really knows how he is

he’s just a hot yet mysterious bassist that plays for a band called “DAY6″

although his bandmates are talkative; he tends to keep to himself

he’s the last one to show up and the first one to leave

you’ve only seen him on stage and a couple of times on campus

no one’s ever seen him smile; which is what makes him so mysteriously attractive

it was Friday morning; 6 am 

it was the start of spring term

you were on morning shift at a coffee shop; you only saw professors and super studious students grab their cup of joe before heading to class

you were trying not to fall asleep standing; you didn’t hear the sliding doors open

“excuse me miss~ can I order?”

knock knock

you shook your head and looked up

Brian was right in front of you; with his instrument case slung on his back over his backpack

he laughs; it was so angelic.. you could say that you fell in love at that moment

“it’s too early for any of this..”

“ye-yeah..”

you both hear the sliding doors open to some girls who were being obvious that they were his fans

“a medium iced americano to-go,” he hands over his card

“sure thing..” 

you both could hear the girls behind him trying to get a look at his face

“he’s so good-looking in person~”

“the stage lights don’t do him any justice..”

(girl, same)

once his card gets approved, he takes the card from you and waits on the side for his drink

the girls only ordered bottled water; they actually came into the shop after seeing Brian enter the shop

they left after paying

“bye Brian~” they waved

he looks at them and nods; emotionlessly

they run out squealing like high school girls

you silently chuckled as you got the americano ready for him

“a medium iced americano~”

you held it out for him

“thanks...” he takes it; emotionlessly 

you smiled at him

“have a good day~”

“you too.. uh..” he looks at your nametag, “y/n..”

he smiled when he said your name

with that he left the shop 

and you were dead

you wanted to blame it on spring

were you falling in love?

you looked as his profile through the glass as he walks to class

(I mean... who wouldn’t fall in love with him...wait)

you just thought it over how..HE SMILED AT YOU?!

YOU?

HE IS KNOWN FOR NOT SMILING AT ANYONE OTHER THAN HIS BANDMATES

BUT HIS SMIILE IS RARE

you couldn’t help but think that it was a sign

you shook your head and slapped your cheeks

“get your head outta the gutters, y/n..”

once your shift ended, you got ready for class

you had to take an arts class as a requirement

“beginning to guitar huh...”

walking in, you expected to see an old looking guy as your instructor

but you saw Brian

he looks up

“oh.. you’re from this morning..” you pointed at him, “you’re the instructor for this class?”

Brian goes back to tune his guitar

“no.. I’m the TA..”

“ah.. okay..”

you wanted to talk to him; but he wasn’t the easiest person to communicate with

soon the class was filled up girls?

to be specific, his fan girls

class was kinda awkward

everyone’s attention was on Brian instead of the instructor (who was actually an old guy.. reminds you of your dad)

“Brian~ you are a bassist, why are you TA for guitar?”

“Brian can you help me out?”

“Brian~”

you were getting slightly irritated; you went to where the instructor was and you asked him about what you should expect from class; yada-yada-ya

Brian looks over at you; you were probably the only person in class who wasn’t giving him a headache  

that made him a little happy?

he kept quiet most of the time; when he spoke it was more like, 7 words max

“well, I started playing the guitar first”

“you’re holding your guitar upside-down”

what felt like an eternity later; class was over

Brian was the first one to leave; everyone was calling him but he dashed off

di-ding

you got a text from your co-worker/bff:

-YO~ GUESS WHAT?

-what”

-Sungjin from DAY6? he’s in my statistics class and he asked me to come to his party tonight~ he also said to bring friends~ it’s at 10pm~

-what if I don’t go?

-I’ll stop working at the coffee shop

-okay, you gotta help me though because idk what to wear

-i gotchu loml 

-k bye

-love me back, bitch

you smiled; when you looked up, you were the only one left in class

“damn”

you walked out the class but you bump into someone

TWAK

“DUDE SERIOUSLY?”

you rubbed your forehead, you looked up and saw Brian

he raises a brow at you, “you should look where you’re going”

you scoffed and pointed at him

“what kinda-”

Brian pokes your forehead, “you could get hurt”

you slowly put your finger down; out of embarrassment, you rubbed the back of your neck

“oh ye-yeah.. okay..”

“what are you still doing here?” he asks as he walks past you

“I could ask you the same”

he sits down and takes out his guitar

“if I didn’t leave, those girls would be chattering away until who knows when..I wanted to compose a few tunes before ending the day..”

you chuckled as you looked at your watch; it was 6 pm

knowing your friend; she’s gonna take hours to get ready and if she’s gonna help you, it might take her longer

“see ya tonight,” you motioned two fingers from your temple to him; saluting kinda

“tonight?”

“yeah.. Sungjin’s party?”

“we’ll see...” he mumbles

you walked out backwards, “don’t be a party pooper, seeya Brian~”

as you dashed off, he bit down on the sides of his cheeks, “it’s Young K..”

hours and hours and hours later

you and your friend finally got ready and it was already 10:30

“are you sure I look okay?”

your friend nodded, “better than those leggings and cropped jackets you wear everyday~”

she painted on a semi-smokey eye with fluttering lashes

she also took out your messy bun and sleeked it straight; you forgot how long your hair was; it was an inch or two below from your breasts

she knew that most of the girls were gonna wear bodycon dresses BUT she said that you had the best body for bodycon dresses so she looked around for the tightest one she could find 

you ended wearing a black strappy low-cut midi dress that had a super high slit on your left thigh with matching black strappy heels

“don’t you think it’s too much?” you turned to look at her

“if yours is too much than mine is outrageous..” she was wearing a deep plunged nude bodycon mini dress 

“you right..”

AT THE PARTY

the both of you could hear the music blasting from a block away

you started to get nervous

your friend grabbed your hand, “if you wanna go home, just let me know..”

she opened the door and Sungjin was talking with Jae

“oh shit... you guys look good..” Sungjin covered his mouth with his red solo cup

Jae reaches to shake your hand, “Jae..”

“y/n..” you said softly

“what?” he leans in closer

“y-y/n..”

Jae starts chuckling, “y/n’s a pretty name for a pretty girl..”

your friend introduced you to Sungjin, “Sungjin, y/n..y/n, Sungjin”

you reached out to shake his hand but he pulls you in for a hug

“I don’t do handshakes, sweetie~” 

you blushed as he let go 

he grazed your butt; but you didn’t want to overthink that he did that on purpose

“hey~ let’s take a shot since you guys are here~” Jae yells as he pulls your friend along

you all walked into the kitchen where all the drinks were

you spotted Brian in the sitting at the counter with two girls by his side..

they were talking to him but it seemed like he was just ignoring them as he drank his beer

he nearly spilled some out of his mouth when he saw you walk into the kitchen

you were chatting it up with Sungjin; laughing at what he said

his arm was also around your waist

Brian didn’t like that.. he saw met you first..

“take your pick ladies..”

you and your friend looked at each other

“go hard or go home; we’re taking tequilla!!” your friend was distributing shot cups to everyone who wanted one

to everyone’s surprise Brian took one too

“WHOOOWEE BRIAN’S GETTING LITTY TONIGHT~” Jae yelled as everyone cheered

once everyone was ready with their shots and salt; you all cheered

Sungjin tapped on your shoulder to do a love shot 

you just went for it

“OOOHHH LOOK AT EM~”

“y/n takes it like a champ!!” Jae said after he did one with your friend 

“this is nothing,” you said as you placed your cup down

Brian looked straight at you as he angrily took his shot

you didn’t notice until you looked over at him

(was he angry? why was he angry..)

you excused yourself from your spot and made yourself over to Brian when you saw the two girls that were with him make their way to the bathrooms

“hey...there Brian,” you were trying to make eye contact with him

“hey”

“you okay?”

he sips his beer as he looks at you

“why wouldn’t I be-”

“HEY Y/N THEY’RE PLAYING SPIN THE BOTTLE!! LET’S GO~”

you looked over at Brian before your friend dragged you out

you reached out to point at him

“you going?”

usually Brian would say “no” but he was had something else on his mind tonight

he grabs your hand, “yeah”

they people around the circle cheered as you guys showed up

“y/n’s the mvp for bring Brian out here, I can’t even get him to participate most of the time~” Sungjin says

there was all of DAY6 in the circle; a couple of other girls; you and your friend

the guys weren’t comfortable with kissing each other so twist of this game was that if a guy got another guy, they’d have to take off a piece of clothing

“cool let’s start~” 

Jae got Wonpil

Wonpil definitely looked like the innocent one of the group; his face got pink as he took off his hoodie, revealing a white v-cut tee

Wonpil warmed up his hands and spun the bottle; he got you

he instantly went from pink to red

you could say it was the alcohol talking, but you crawled over and wrapped your hand on the back of his head

“OOOHHHHHHHH~”

it was a quick but heated makeout 

Wonpil covered his face after, “thank you”

everyone laughed at his cuteness

except for Brian

“y/n your turn~~”

when the bottle stopped turning and everyone went silent

it was pointed at Brian

he got up and took your hand

“we’re leaving..”

he drags you out of the circle and walks into his room 

cl-click

he closes the door

“what do you think you’re doing?”

he was kind of slurring at his words; tipsy

but you weren’t even feeling anything yet

you furrowed your brows at him

“what are you-”

“are you trying to seduce me?”

“wha-?”

this boy wasn’t going to let you talk; he grabbed your face and started kissing you

not leaving you any room to breathe

he backs you up onto his bed

when you fall onto his bed, he stops kissing you

“BRIAN-”

“IT’S YOUNG K; BUT NO ONE EVER CALLS ME THAT”

“I’m..I’m sorry, Young K...” 

he shook his head

“you should be sorry for other things...”

Young K nuzzles into the crook of your neck and starts marking you

“you should be sorry for looking too good in that dress.. you should be sorry for luring and attracting other guys...you should take responsibility for what you did..”

you tried to hold your voice in; not that anyone could hear it anyways

“what..did I do?”

he laughs

“you made me fall in love with you....”

his hands ghosts over your body and grabs the side to where the zipper was

“can I show you?”

you whimpered as you nodded 

the rest of the night was history

you were the first one to wake up

the sunlight was peeking through the curtains

you were only wearing his flannel button-downed shirt; you looked over at him, his arm was snaked around your waist

slightly snoring; he had on a black tank top and his grey sweats

you remembered that you had to take care of him after your guys’ heated session because he had more drinks than you did

you had time to rinse down and take off your makeup

you also tucked him in bed; you were going to leave.. but he insisted that you stayed..

the clock turned 8; you were just looking at him

(he’s more daring than he appears to be...but for some reason, he looked so sweet and soft) you caught yourself having those thoughts

you tried your best to sneak out of bed

but you feel him pull you back

“I can’t have you go..you’ve seen too much of me, I feel exposed..”

he places his chin on top of your head as he pulls you in and sighs deeply

“what’s wrong?”

“I don’t want to keep being that “mysteriously chic” guy... that guy everyone thinks I am.. I wanna have fun and chat up with people... but I don’t know how..”

you turned around to face him

“just be yourself.. your real self.. if you say something weird..it’s okay~ you learn from that and continue on..”

you’ve only met him officially yesterday and it’s came down to this situation

he stares at you for a little while longer before saying something

“I partially blame the drinks for what happened yesterday and I know we barely know each other...but...y/n?”

“hmm?”

“can we keep in contact?”

you chuckled at him

“of course... Bri-”

“WHO?”

“Young K..”

END

[masterlist + guidelines]

( ་ ⍸ ་ )

[lazyfox411]

VLD Whumpmas  Day 2: Indigestion

for day 2 of @vldwhumpmas2017​ !!! I decided to go with keith again. I wrote this last night when I was high off ibuprofen bc I have a nasty cold so I'm sorry if parts don't make sense

“It’s an Altean holiday,” Allura explained. “It’s a time to spend with family, a time for being thankful. Gifts are exchanged, and decorations hung,” the princess’ eyes gleamed with memory, “and oh, how beautiful the castle halls looked glimmering with lights and sparkles!” She clasped her hands under her chin, balancing on the balls of her feet as she imagined how it would look to have the castle all lit up and decked out once more.

“And the children,” Coran said wistfully, “gathering round to hear stories of the ancients, and share sweets, and sing songs. And the guests—oh, the guests! The castle was brimming with ambassadors and dignitaries from all over the galaxy! We laughed, and drank, and a great feast was prepared. Such wonderful times.”

“That sounds a lot like some of the holidays we had on Earth,” Lance mused.

“Really?” Allura asked. The paladins all nodded. “That’s amazing! Perhaps…we could celebrate together?” Allura’s excitement was barely contained, but it had already grown on the rest of the team. They cheered.

“Hunk, my man, you have truly outdone yourself this time,” Lance said, tapping his fingers against his plate in anticipation as he surveyed the array of food in the dining hall.

“This wasn’t all me, dude. A ton of our guests brought dishes from their home planets. It’s amazing!”

“It sure is,” Lance nodded, “I just wish we didn't have to wait at the back of the line.”

“It is common courtesy,” Allura reminded him, “our guests are served first.”

Lance scowled even though he knew she was right, and waited to take his place at the end of the line. He spotted Keith in front of him, and decided to give him a playful nudge. “Outta my way, mullet, I'm starving.”

Keith started to glare at him, but he picked up on Lance's smile and smirked back. They raced each other to get in line. Lance was pretty sure Keith let him win. He took a place in the long line of coalition allies behind Kolivan, and Keith shuffled behind him. They were all in good spirits, the magic of the Altean holiday Lance had long since given up trying to pronounce the name of making them all eager to smile and laugh.

The spread of food all of their alien guests had brought for them to enjoy had Lance's mouth watering just by looking at it. As much as he enjoyed talking to all their guests and meeting the kids from planets they’d freed, and taking pictures for his scrapbook—yes, Lance has a scrapbook, don’t judge him—his mind had started to wander. How much time had passed on earth? Had his family celebrated the holidays without him? Did they think he was dead? Did they miss him?

“Are you okay?”

Lance felt his ears turn red. He turned to find Keith staring up at him, owlish eyes filled with concern. They’d been getting along a lot better lately, but Lance was still a little surprised Keith had picked up on anything.

“Yeah,” Lance smiled. “I'm good.”

Chatter filled the room from guests who had already been served and seated at a clutter of small round tables. The line slowly dwindled until those at the back were practically jumping for joy. Lance filled his plate with the delectable pastries, meats, and sweets that lined the tables. He tried to make small talk with Kolivan to keep up the appearance that he was, indeed, fine, since Keith was still eyeing him dubiously. Kolivan was as good a conversationalist as Lance was a mathematician, that is to say, the conversation didn't continue past some offhand pleasantries. Lance focused on the food instead, since it was right in front of him. He would have to circulate the room and talk to their guests about what each dish was called. He really loved learning about all the diverse cultures that were in space. He watched Kolivan wrinkle his nose at a particular plate of food, but it looked good to Lance, so he took one of the little pink fruit slices for himself. He found a place to sit next to Pidge and some Olkari scientists. He tried to follow their conversation, but he really didn't understand what they were saying. He'd have to ask Pidge to explain it to him later. For now, he busied himself with snapping a few more photos for the scrapbook. Maybe he could show it to his family if he ever made it back to Earth. If.

He spotted Keith, standing uncomfortably in the middle of the crowd, holding his plate and looking for a place to sit.

“Keith!” Lance waved him over. Keith smiled, the tiny little smile he always seemed to get when he found people being nice to him. He joined Lance at the table.

“Hey, Lance.”

“Hey.” Lance said, more awkwardly than he’d intended. He saw Keith had taken the same little pink fruit slice. “What do you think this is?” Lance asked.

Keith didn't seem to mind the random subject. He picked up his own fruit slice to scrutinize it. It almost looked like a tangerine piece, except pink like the blossoms of a cherry tree, with tiny black seeds scattered throughout.

Keith shrugged. “Looks alright.”

They each took a bite at the same time, the sugary citrus taste bursting onto their tongues. It was a lot better than food goo, and they both finished their fruit in seconds.

The crowd seemed to have shifted, because next thing Lance knew, Pidge and her science friends were gone and Hunk was seated next to him instead. They made a game of trying to guess what food belonged to which planet that was being represented here.

“Hey, Keith,” Lance turned to his fellow armour-clad friend—not what he would have liked to wear to a party, but it was the closest thing to formal wear they had. “Where do you think this one comes from?” He held up a tiny cake for Keith to inspect. Keith had grown distant in a matter of minutes, and was now slumped in his chair with his arms crossed. He looked up at Lance's question. “Huh? Oh, uh…I dunno.”

“You don’t even want to take a guess? Come on, mullet, lighten up, it’s a party.”

Keith's eyes widened, and he paled. He jumped from his seat. “I-I gotta go.”

Lance watched him practically run out of the dining room. He frowned. Before he could think about it more, Coran was calling everyone’s attention for a toast.

After too many minutes of Coran regaling everyone about the good old days and how glad he was that they could converge in peace and comradery on this holiday Lance still couldn’t pronounce the name of, Keith still hadn't returned.

“I'm gonna go look for him,” Lance murmured to Hunk before excusing himself from the table. He checked everywhere, power-walking around the castle like a man on a mission, but he didn't find Keith. The last place to look was Keith's room. Lance knocked on the door. Something shuffled inside.

“Keith?” he called. “Buddy, you in there?”

“Go away, Lance.”

“What’s wrong? You totally just bailed on me—I mean, us. Me and Hunk.”

“Nothing is wrong. Leave me alone.”

“Obviously something’s not right. Are you going to tell me, or do I need to come in there?”

No answer.

Lance pressed the panel that opened the door and it whooshed open. He stepped inside. The lights were on, but they were dimmed. Keith sat on his bed, hunched against the wall, knees pulled to his chest. “Get out,” he snapped. Lance met his eyes, and there was a strange expression painted there. Fear?

“Hey, man,” Lance said gently. “What’s up? You can tell me.” He made the bold decision to sit on the edge of Keith's bed.

“I'm fine,” Keith bit. “Leave me alo—” he was cut off by a loud rumbling noise.

“Was…” Lance chuckled, “was that your stomach?”

Keith looked absolutely horrified. “No,” he lied.

“Dude, relax, it isn’t a big deal—”

“I can't relax, Lance, my stomach is trying to kill me!” Keith curled in on himself further, hiding his face in his knees.

Lance sighed. “You really don’t feel well, huh, buddy?”

Keith shook his head.

“Do you think it was something you ate?”

“All I had was that little fruit.”

“Hm. I’ll ask Coran about it.” Lance stood to leave, but Keith caught his arm.

“No, don’t bother Coran. I’ll be fine.”

“Keith, we’re dealing with alien food. What if you're allergic? What if it was poisoned or something?”

“Y-you think it was poisoned?” Keith asked worriedly.

“No, I don’t, I'm just making a point. Let me go talk to Coran.” Lance left before Keith could protest.

It didn't take long to find Coran. He was entertaining a large circle of people with what Lance could only describe as a strange interpretive dance. He tapped the older Altean on the shoulder, “Could I borrow you for a sec?”

“Absolutely my boy!”

Lance pulled him away to talk privately. “So, um, about the food—”

“Oh, yes! Isn’t it wonderful!”

“It’s great Coran,” Lance agreed, “but do you know those little pink fruit slices?”

“Of course! The Yeuranian plum! A delicacy!”

“Right,” Lance continued, “well, I think Keith is kind of having an adverse reaction to it. Like, he’s got a really bad stomach ache.”

“Hm,” Coran twirled a finger through his moustache. “I wonder…those plums contain compounds that are not easily digested by some species. Perhaps Keith's galran heritage hasn’t given him the proper enzymes to digest it properly.”

“Will he be okay?”

“He’ll be fine,” Coran assured. “Uncomfortable, no doubt, but no lasting damage.”

“Thank you, Coran.”

Lance opened Keith's door for the second time that night to find Keith hadn't moved an inch. “Hey, buddy,” he said softly. “Listen, I talked to Coran, and he said you’ll be fine. Just something about you not having enzymes, or alien indigestion or something, I don’t know. I got you some water and a couple extra blankets, if that would make you feel more comfortable?”

Keith grunted in response.

“Here,” Lance said. He handed Keith the water pouch he'd snagged from the kitchen and then stood up and opened the closet. He pulled out a set of pyjamas, though he'd never seen Keith wear them he'd known they were there, all the paladins had them.

“Change into these,” Lance told him. He gave Keith the fuzzy red fabric. “You'll be comfier than sitting here with your armor on.”

Keith whined. He really didn't want to move. Lance sighed, and pulled him to his feet, much to Keith's dismay, though he stood patiently while Lance helped him take off the armor. They got Keith changed, and Lance helped Keith lower himself back onto the bed. As he made Keith lie down, Lance's hand brushed Keith's side and wow nobody was supposed to be that bloated after eating a tiny fruit.

“Does this feel any better?” Lance asked once Keith had had some water and was tucked neatly in bed.

Keith nodded, eyes shut and his mouth in a tight line. “You don’t have to be here. Go back to the party. I know you were having fun.”

“Well, yeah, I was, but you're way more important than that. You look and sound miserable, I'm not going to leave you here by yourself. That’s not what a friend does.”

Keith didn't say anything. His face was pale and his breathing was laboured.

“You okay?” Lance asked.

“Yeah. Just…I really don’t feel good.”

Lance's heart went out to the poor guy. They were all supposed to be having fun, and here was Keith laid up in bed.

“Is there anything else I can get you?” Lance asked.

Keith shook his head. “You’ve already done way more than you had to.”

“No, I did what any decent person would do. I just want you to feel better, buddy.” Lance had a strong urge to reach out and pet Keith's hair, but he held back. “Do you want a tummy rub?” he asked instead.

Keith cracked an eye open. “What?”

“Like this,” Lance murmured. He put a hand over Keith's belly and rubbed in gentle circles. “It'll help you feel better.”

Keith mumbled a sound of agreement. “’S’nice.”

Lance didn't stop, even after all the guests were long gone from the castle, even after Keith had dozed off. He stayed until morning, when Keith’s stomach stopped being so angry and Keith felt well enough to get up. He vowed that next time they ate alien food, he'd ask someone what was in it.

[taegijae-blog]

BREAKFAST DELIVERY 10

pairing: 2jae

genre: fluff, if you squint there’s angst

word count: 3k

description: the school’s hottest boy im jaebum wants to get a certain boy’s number.  but the first problem is: he’s unhappy and not eating.

status: completed

note: this was originally posted on wakaba’s wattpad @/jaeholics

| part 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 |

Thank God the day following that event was a Saturday, otherwise he'd have to shamefully face the two hearts he managed to break in one day.

Jaebum rolled around in his bed, hugging on the blankets, mumbling incoherently to himself. He felt like absolute garbage. Seeing that his alarm clock read 10:37, he slumped out of bed and dragged himself down to the bathroom. The house was empty as usual, meaning he could totally throw a party that night. If, you know, he didn't feel like dying. As he squirted some toothpaste onto his toothbrush and madly scrubbed his pearly whites, he groaned as he stared at himself in the mirror. He knew he was a good looking guy whose looks would attract mostly every gal or guy. After rinsing out his mouth, he smacked some water across the mirror and blurred the reflection of his sad-looking self. For once, he wished he was ugly. Jaebum tiredly zombie-walked his way over to the kitchen, checking the fridge for any food that possibly could've been left for him. Seeing that it was empty except for some eggs and milk, he already knew that his plans would be to go out for both lunch and dinner. Opening a cupboard, he grabbed a box of fruity cereal and dumped it into a ceramic bowl, pouring milk in after doing so. His dear cat, Nora, crawled up to his feet and rubbed herself against the skin lovingly. "At least you're here," he muttered under his breath, slurping some milk from his bowl as he made his way to the couch. He turned on the television and stared dully at the skin, allowing his pet to crawl onto his lap and rest there. Realizing that he hadn't checked his phone in a while, Jaebum reached for it since it was laying on the coffee table. He turned it on, only to be met with over a hundred missed text messages. annoyed, he unlocked his phone and saw that a particular someone added him to a chat group overnight after he fell asleep, which was the main cause of the overload of messages. He squinted at his screen while he scrolled through the messages. It took him a while to realize that those numbers were familiar to him: Jackson Wang, Park Jinyoung, and Choi Youngjae. The last message was sent a few hours ago, so he didn't bother sending anything to indicate that he read the chat. He put down his bowl of breakfast and became invested into the conversation they were having, feeling more and more uneasy. Nora jumped onto the table and quietly drank some of the milk as Jaebum's foot tapped in anxiousness. wango, 2 others [jype]: i'm muting this chat btw [wango]: bro I just want u to listen to my proposal [c.youngjae]: why do you even have my number?? [wango]: thats not important just listen rn [wango]: so jb hyung's like super depressed aight? [wango]: I HOPE HES READING THIS BTW WINK WINK [jype]: winking in text doesn't do anything [wango]: anyway [wango]: i want all three of you to meet up [wango]: and work this out together [wango]: i'm not going to interfere bc this is a u guys issue!! [wango]: u gotta fix it urselves arasso?? [c.youngjae]: ...how tho [wango]: there's a nice place in town [wango]: it's called Cafe A [wango]: all of three meet up there by 3 and talk it out!! [wango]: idc if you're busy or not [wango]: (unless ur planning to meet ur family bc then please go ahead and do that first family is first priority) [wango]: ARASSO?? [jype]: our 'talk' isnt going to last long, you know. [jype]: theres not much I can say

[jype]: it's always been a one sided thing anyway [jype]: i know he likes youngjae way more than he likes me [jype]: and i'm okay with that. [jype]: i just don't want to be thrown away because of that 'love' he has for him. [jype]: you reading this, youngjae? [c.youngjae]: yes, hyung... [jype]: good. [jype]: i don't hate you or anything. it's not like that.

[jype]: it's true that ive liked him since middle school [jype]: but I always knew that it'd ended up being like this [jype]: and how he isn't the kind of person to fall for his best friend [jype]: so I prepared myself for when this sort of thing happens   [jype]: it won't bother me, youngjae. go ahead and date him. [c.youngjae]: hyung, i [c.youngjae]: ...you have to understand that i don't really like him at the moment [c.youngjae]: i'm not sure if i'd agree to that [jype]: that's a shame [jype]: because a really great guy has a huge crush on you [jype]: and it's a waste for you to be ignorant about that. [wango]: ... [wango]: hoh my god  [wango]: i'm a rly good problem fixer

[wango]: jinyoung? 

[wango]: u still there?

[wango]: i guess not 

[jype]: i have plans for today. i'm not going to that cafe. [wango]: oh [wango]: well I guess it's fine now since u guys talked it out!! yeah!!! [wango]: youngjae, don't be discouraged! [wango]: both jaebum-hyung and jinyoung r amazing people [wango]: even tho they seem rly scary and act cold [wango]: its just their way of caring [wango]: ive known them for a long time [wango]: theyre literally the best friends ive ever had [wango]: jinyoung is a rly wise person, there's always a good reason to whatever he does [wango]: jaebum-hyung has sides to him that r like a dad or big brother that u can rely on [wango]: ... [wango]: youngjae??? [c.youngjae]: yeah [c.youngjae]: i'm listening [c.youngjae]: thank you, hyung [wango]: no problem man

[wango]: now go get that dick [c.youngjae]: ???? [wango]: jk jk lol [wango]: r u going to meet up w Jaebum-hyung at the cafe? it's a rly nice place I swear [c.youngjae]: maybe [c.youngjae]: i haven't heard what he says tho... [wango]: aw true [wango]: let me spam him brb [c.youngjae]: wait don't spam him;; what if he's just asleep?

[wango]: 

ugh ur too nice

[wango]:

fine I won't

[wango]:

i'll go spam markiepooh instead♥️♥️

[c.youngjae]:

...right

[c.youngjae]: the other number in this chat is Jaebum-hyung, right?

[wango]: yep!! slide into his dms boy

[c.youngjae]: ;;

Jaebum instantly realized the doom he was about to face.

"No, no, no, no, no!" He literally screamed at his phone, trying to do everything to prevent Youngjae from knowing.

It was probably too late.

[c.youngjae]: ?

[c.youngjae]: wait

[c.youngjae]: but

[c.youngjae]: ;;

[c.youngjae]: isnt that defsoul-hyung's number...

[c.youngjae]: ...it is

[c.youngjae]: hyung.

[c.youngjae]: ... [jaybee]: are you mad at me? [c.youngjae]: no

[c.youngjae]:  even though I did just find out you were double tricking me

[jaybee]: i never meant to make fun of you or anything

[jaybee]: about that party

[jaybee]: i knew bambam only as 'def soul'

[jaybee]: i'm sure you can also tell that he doesn't like me bc im known as that rude, popular shit called im jaebum

[jaybee]: and rapmon told me to come anyway

[jaybee]: btw his real name is namjams

[c.youngjae]: what's your point

[jaybee]: i want to have a second chance

[jaybee]: i know ive been a horrible person, hiding behind two identities just so I could talk to you

[jaybee]: please

[jaybee]: i only ever wanted to cheer you up

[c.youngjae]: ...

[c.youngjae]: i feel stupid for sending you all those messages

[c.youngjae]: no wonder you knew where I was and that I didn't have an umbrella

[c.youngjae]: i feel like you've played me and you probably did 

[c.youngjae]: but the def soul hyung I know is a caring person

[c.youngjae]: and if youre him

[c.youngjae]: then I can hope that your kindness is just as genuine

[c.youngjae]: because I think it's impossible to fake kindness like that

[c.youngjae]: let's meet up at three and talk

[jaybee]: i'll be there

[jaybee]: i won't be late.

Read at 11:07 AM ✓

His phone read 2:57 by the time he spotted Jaebum. He was standing right outside the promised cafe, scrolling through his own phone with his legs crossed. It surprised Youngjae to see that he was wearing a pair of wire-rimmed glasses and an oversized sweater, contrary to his usual attire of trendy clothes that showed off his nice build. He looked pretty hot, to be honest. Youngjae shook that thought out of his mind and approached Jaebum, acting as though he wasn't just staring at him a minute prior. "It isn't 3 yet," Youngjae said quietly, stuffing his hands into his hoodie. "I've been here for ten minutes. I just didn't want to be late," Jaebum replied with a tiny grin as if he wanted the younger's approval. Youngjae scoffed and went ahead into the building, ruining the other's plans of opening the door for him. They went up to the counter, both of them staring at the menu in a similar way. Both of their eyes twitched, cursing at Jackson mentally. "I'm glad Jinyoung decided not to come," Jaebum whispered to the other, faking a smile for the person behind the cash register. "Welcome to Cafe A, one of the first couples' cafe in this town," she smiled enthusiastically, probably a bit overwhelmed on the inside because she had two male customers coming together in her hands. Youngjae hid his face into a hand in embarrassment, and Jaebum wanted to die on the spot. "Would you like to order our monthly special 'love potions?'" she asked, pointing to the piece of paper on the counter. "No," Youngjae and Jaebum said simultaneously. Flustered because of how rude that sounded, Jaebum laughed sheepishly and shook his head. "I'll just have an iced Americano. And, Youngjae..." Youngjae squinted at the menu above them, saying, "I'll have some water." Jaebum's face abruptly switched to one of shock, nudging the younger gently with his elbow. 'Eat,' he mouthed. Youngjae grumbled, feeling like he was just scolded by his mother. "Nevermind. I'll have a melon smoothie." "Alright. that will be ₩6,500." His hand reached into his pocket to grab his wallet, but the taller Jaebum stopped him before he could go any further. Instead, he took out his own wallet and paid using a card. Youngjae squinted his eyes at the other. I bet he just wanted to show off. Stupid seniors. "Thank you. Please come to pick up your order once this starts to buzz," she said while handing over the circular device to Youngjae, who almost dropped it.To the surprise of both, she leaned forward and gestured for them to come closer. "The third floor is popular with... couples like you two," she whispered with a grin. Both boys shook their heads, trying to insist that they weren't that sort of couple. She didn't listen, only grinning happily. 'You guys are so cute!' she mouthed while making a thumbs up, leaving the two speechless as they searched for a table. "Maybe we should go to the third floor," Youngjae was heard mumbling. "But we're not a couple, unfortunately," Jaebum remarked, putting emphasis on the last word to express that he really did think it was unfortunate. "I mean, I'd be more than happy if we were, but-" "The people here are staring at us." Youngjae gestured with a subtle tilt of his chin, completely ignoring what the other had to say. It was true, though; quite a few of the other couples enjoying their food seemed to be whispering at the two. Jaebum scoffed and marched towards the staircase, Youngjae following quickly to avoid any more odd gazed from anyone there. As promised by the girl at the cash register, the third floor was filled with... ...gay. Youngjae's eyes couldn't ignore the variety(?) of couples that were there, enjoying their time together. At one table in the corner, there was someone resembling a llama sitting across from someone who appeared like a girl. He couldn't tell, that person just had long hair. At the opposite side of the room, he spotted a couple that consisted of someone narrow-eyed with bright mint hair, nodding at his partner, who had a radiant smile, while he ranted. At another table they passed by were two people who didn't stand out in particular except that they seemed to be speaking completely in Chinese. Beside their table were two rather young looking guys, the foreign-looking one teaching his partner how to say simple words in English. "I don't think there are any open tables, hyung..." Youngjae remarked with a pout after searching around the room. Jaebum nodded, thinking that they might end up having to sit outside or something. Just then, someone tapped his arm. he turned around to see two rather tall guys sitting at the table nearby, one of them looking highly emo. "Are you looking for a table? Ae can just move our stuff, there's space for you guys," the person who tapped his arm offered, his canine teeth showing as he smiled. "Oh, sure. Thank you." Once the other guys moved their belongings, Youngjae took the seat that was on the cushiony couch and Jaebum sat on the chair. "Are you guys from JYP high?" the person asked, sipping on his ice coffee. Jaebum nodded, leaning back while putting an arm over the chair in an assertive way. "We're from Pledis," he replied, making Jaebum go “Ooh.” No wonder they were wearing nice clothes and looked as though they had their hair done professionally. Although Pledis was a small school, it was a costly place to attend and its students sure did prove that. "God, I would've screamed if you guys were from SM." Almost everyone in the room quieted down when hearing that name as though it was a taboo. SM's school had the roughest teachers and classes by far, and its roughness most likely rubbed off on its students. The device Youngjae held flashed red lights out of nowhere and started buzzing, startling him. Jaebum took it from his hand and headed downstairs in order to grab their drinks. Once he was gone, the high-key emo person who hadn't said a thing leaned over to Youngjae. "Your boyfriend's hot," he said quietly. Youngjae's face flashed a bright pink. "He's not my boyfriend! I'm not dating him," he argued and pouted again. "Really? I think he likes you from the way he looks at you, though," the person sitting across said with a wiggle of his eyebrows. "What's his name?" "Im Jaebum." Someone dropped their fork in the distance as the person almost choked on his straw. "That's... him? He's Im Jaebum?" he asked, clearly as confused as Youngjae was. someone a few tables next to them whispered, “Holy shit, that was Im Jaebum?” "Yes?" Youngjae tilted his head, not understanding what all the fuss was about. "Goodness," he sighed while shaking his head. "He's a literal legend at Pledis." Youngjae's eyebrows furrowed in confusion. "What do you mean by that?" "How do you, his boyfriend, not know about this?" he fanned himself with his hand, accidentally hitting himself in the face. Embarrassed, he cleared his throat. "Anyway, the Pledis legend. Im Jaebum. He used to go to Pledis for his freshman year, I think. But somehow, he ended up becoming the school's first ever student to be full on expelled." Youngjae's mouth dropped when hearing this. He wasn't even sure if his best friends Jinyoung or Jackson knew about this. "One of the biggest idol companies—you know, the ones with idol groups and all that—scouted him during his freshman year, right on our campus. The story about that flew all over school and he became a living legend. Everyone wanted to his friend." "How come you didn't recognize him earlier if he's that well known?" Youngjae asked in a dazed tone, not quite able to wrap his head around all the information he just absorbed. "Are you kidding me? He used to be one of the shortest guys in the class. He had mushroom hair and wore huge glasses every day." "Okay..." Youngjae peered over to the staircase to see if was Jaebum was back or not. He wanted to hear more of the details, wishing he wouldn't be back for another five minutes. "Well, why was he expelled?" "There was this group of seniors that made fun of him a lot, and I guess he was just fed up with him," he explained with a shrug, shaking around his cup. "What did he do?" "He poisoned them." That was the point where Youngjae didn't believe the story anymore. "No, that's stupid—" "He baked them a nice batch of cookies that made them vomit the next day. They told the principal on him," the boy paused in order to snap his fingers, "and just like that, he was gone." Youngjae was speechless, only his eyes blinking as the rest of his body was frozen. He was so confused, mostly because he couldn't believe that someone who seemed genuinely kind like the 'Def Soul' person he knew would do such thing. At the staircase, he could see a glimpse of Jaebum walking up with two cups in his hands. "Are you afraid that he'll do something like that again?" the person asked. "If you are, I don't think you should be. I can tell his attitude has changed a lot since freshman year, and he's probably trying to get a fresh start." Jaebum sat back down in his seat across from the still shocked Youngjae. He waved his hand in front of him, wondering if he was even alive. "Yah, Im Jaebum!" the person smacked his arm out of nowhere. “What—ah, shit," Jaebum cursed under his breath once he realized that that person currently attended pledis, the place of his unforgettable past. "I can't believe it's actually you. hey, i'm mingyu. remember me?" Jaebum's eyes widened as though he was reminded of something unpleasant, but he played it cool and sighed. "Yes, yes, I do. What do you want?" The one sitting across from mingyu tapped his watch, indicating something about time. He nodded his head and hurriedly threw on his jacket, grabbing his things. "Sorry, I would talk more but there's something I have to do." Before he left the table, he leaned down towards Jaebum's ear and whispered softly.

“Don't break that cutie's heart, okay?”

[thewinsisterchronicles]

It’s Going to be Okay

Request: I've got a request, you're the Winchesters sister (older than Sam but younger than Dean) and she sold her soul when she was about 16 to save John, she didn't tell anybody and 10 years later the hellhounds come to get her, she tries to be alone when she dies but it kinda failed and the boys have to see it happen (I hope it's not too much information!)

Word Count: 2818

Warnings: some swearing, a little bit gorey when she’s getting ripped to shreds by the hellhounds, just a heads up I almost made myself cry

A/N: ok so heads up I made myself want to curl up into a ball and die on the floor so im almost sorry for writing this but I couldn’t help myself its probably not even that emotional but still and whatever you do make sure that you do not listen to Brother by NEEDTOBREATHE bc I did and now im dead wow im making such a big deal out of this its probably because its like 1am but still I hope this is what you wanted and sorry that it came out so late, but I just kind of got caught up in other stuff and couldn’t think of what to write soo yeah (btw I got the info for how to treat stab wounds from here and here should you guys ever feel the urge to know what to do in these scenarios)

I reposted this because some people had difficulties getting access to this. Hopefully it works. hmu if not!

“Dad!” Y/N heard Dean scream as the werewolf snuck behind John. She watched as the blade sank into his stomach, one hand stifling his grunt of pain.

“No,” she whispered. “No!” Quickly, she shot the monster in the back, running over to where Dean was trying to support his father.

“Y/N,” he snapped. “Bring the car around back. We’re taking him back to the motel and stitching him back up. Go,” he added when she didn’t move. Nodding slowly, she ran to the impala. Not wasting any time, she swung open the door and opened the driver’s door. She had to hurry, had to be fast. They could fix dad, he’d be fine. Otherwise…

No.

He’d be fine.

“Open the back door,” he grunted, helping his father to the car. “Sit back there with him. I’m going to drive.”

Quickly they moved, wary of the precious time they had left. Y/N had barely sat down on the seat beside John when the car lurched forward. She gasped, closing the car door and glaring at Dean.

“Y/N,” her father’s voice sounded pained. She checked the wound. It was bad. “Y/N.”

“Yeah?” she responded, not paying much attention to his words. She was too busy trying to figure out what to do while they were driving.

“Don’t…” he coughed. “Don’t let the boys do anything stupid, okay?”

“You’re going to have to hold me to that,” she grunted, ripping off her flannel to use it to stop the blood flow. “You’re not dying on me. Not now.”

“Y/N-” he tried again.

“Dean,” she interrupted. “Step on it. He’s bleeding through everything I can give him.”

“Got it.” The car accelerated, blurring the lights of passing storefronts and homes as they sped towards the motel.

Y/N closed her eyes, pre-planning the next steps. She’d have to first get him inside without shifting him so he’d bleed harder, and then find gauze to stop the bleeding. Once that was finished, she’d clean the wound, sterilize it, and-

“Y/N!” Dean called back to her. “We’re here. Get Sam!” Y/N scrambled to get out of the car, racing inside.

“Y/N?” Sam asked, standing up from his position on the bed. “What-”

“Dad’s hurt,” Dean interrupted, half-carrying him through the door. “Y/N, what do we do?” Sam and Dean looked to her, awaiting orders. She had always been the one to stitch them all back up, even when she herself was injured. It was like they all had a role: Dad was the leader; Dean was the soldier who made sure all the orders were carried out; Sammy did the research; and Y/N was the medic. Together, they kicked ass.

Until now.

“Y/N!” Dean yelled at her, shaking her from her thoughts. “What do we do?”

“Lay him down on the bed,” she ordered. “Sam, apply pressure. Dean, sterilize it. Do not touch the knife. Leave it in. It’s stopping most of the blood flow, and any movement could cause further damage.”

They all scrambled in haste to attend her orders. She tore his clothes to further inspect his wound.

“Y/N,” John coughed. She immediately shoved a pillow beneath his head. “Y/N, remember what I said-”

“No,” she said sternly, looking him in the eye. “You are not dying. I am not becoming an orphan, not today. Sam! Where are you?”

“Coming!” he called rushing over to the bed with his cloth. Y/N scrambled back, letting Sam fill in her spot. Dean followed close behind, following the procedure that she had drilled into his brain from the numerous times she had performed them on him.

She turned to the bathroom, washing her hands and splashing some water on her face. Come on, Y/N, she thought to herself. Dad’s… face it. Dad’s dying, and you don’t know what to do. How can you save him?

Then it hit her.

She vaguely remembered seeing a crossroads on the way here. She knew the moment the knife had plunged into her father’s abdomen that she wasn’t nearly well trained enough to deal with this; not with the supplies she had. There was only one way to save him at this point.

Y/N ran out of the bathroom, snatching her jacket and racing out the door.

“Y/N!” Dean screamed for her, but she kept sprinting. “Y/N, get your ass back in here! Dad’s-” his voice broke off. He was unable to say it. She had to act fast.

Y/N always knew this day would come. That was why she carried a premade box around with her, inside her jacket when they hunted should the occasion ever arise. Quickly she made her way to the gravel road, stopping dead center in the parking lot. Checking to see she wasn’t being followed, she planted the box. Scooping the dirt back over it, she stood up.

“C’mon,” she tapped her foot impatiently. “Come on, you stupid son of a-”

“I’d watch that tongue, sweetie,” a voice from behind her. She whipped around, coming face to face with a young woman. She had dark features and wore black clothing. Not that it mattered to Y/N.

“Save my dad,” she practically yelled. The demon raised an eyebrow. She collected herself, taking a deep breath. “Please.”

“You know the terms, I assume?” the demon asked slowly. Too slowly for Y/N’s liking. “Ten long, good-”

“Yeah, yeah,” Y/N said, striding over to her. “Ten years. I know. Now shut up and take my soul.” With that, she planted her lips on the demon’s. She was shocked at first, but quickly responded.

“See you then,” she smirked before leaving Y/N to walk back to the motel, still in shock from what she had just done. She had barely walked back inside the motel room when Dean was in her face.

“What the hell, Y/N?” he nearly shouted. She frowned, confused as to why he wasn’t screaming, until she saw her father. His chest was gently rising and falling, as though he had just taken a nap and not been stabbed. The blood was hardly flowing, and he was… snoring? Y/N didn’t think that she’d ever heard her father snore before.

“He’s fine.” She shrugged him off, going to sit on her bed. She put her head in her hands.

“He wasn’t when you left!” he spat at her. Sam didn’t even look at his sister.

“Y/N, he could have died, and you left. Next time you decide to bail on family, go ahead and stay away.”

“Dean,” she whispered. “Please. I was-”

“I don’t want to hear it,” he snapped. “Now that no one is dead, I’m going for a walk. Because I actually tried to help, so I deserve that.” With that, he left.

“Y/N,” Sam said after a minute of silence. “You did know… you did know that dad was going to be okay, right? Before you left?” She smiled wearily, trying not to memorize every feature of her little brother’s face. She attempted to not memorize his soft eyes, his optimistic tone, his mussy hair and innocence.

“Of course, Sam. I had it all under control.”

Ten Years Later

Y/N drank down the last of her whiskey as she glanced at the clock on her phone. It flashed 11:56pm in the faint light the screen provided. She sat down on the curb, watching as the cars drove by. She waited, ever so calm and patient, for it to come.

For them to come.

She had been experiencing the symptoms recently: visions; sounds; the whole shebang. Y/N thought she had done a fairly good job at hiding them from her brothers, but they weren’t totally convinced. That was why they were watching her from far away. Not that she knew.

It was ten years exactly. Ten years since the deal. Though Sam left and dad did die eventually, she didn’t regret it. There was some sort of a calm washing over her. She was going to die for a good cause, and her brothers wouldn’t see it.

A twig snapped behind her.

She didn’t even turn around. She sighed, standing up.

“I’ll come into the alley. Make it easier to clean up.”

Silently she walked into the alleyway, taking one last swig of alcohol before setting it on the ground. She reached into her pocket, pulling out a letter. She laid it by her canteen. A single tear slipped. I love you, Sam and Dean, she thought to herself. I love you boys.

“Take me away,” she whispered. Then hot breath blew against her neck, and she was knocked to the ground. She didn’t put up a fight.

“Y/N!” Dean screamed, sprinting towards her. Sam was close behind. “Y/N!” She turned her head around, a sad smile plastered on her face.

“Sam, Dean,” she coughed out, body being torn to shreds by some invisible force. “I-”

Her throat was slashed. She spoke no more.

After a moment, the slicing stopped.

The boys ran to her side, tears streaming down their faces. Sam clutched her jacket front, sobbing openly into her chest. There was no heartbeat, no warmth, no nothing expect the cold and metallic scent of her blood and body tissue that made him want to throw up.

“Y/N!” Dean screamed. “No, you selfish- how could you- why?” His body wracked with cries, leaning his forehead against hers, trying to will her to come back. It was nearly an hour before either of them saw the flask and folded paper beside it. Sam moved to it first. He read it, fresh tears springing to his eyes.

“Dean,” he croaked. “Dean.”

“What?” his brother snapped.

“She… she left a note.”

“… What?”

“Here. Read it.”

He thrust the paper out to Dean, who hesitantly took it. Taking a shuddering breath, he opened the letter.

Dear Sam and Dean,

I know I should have told you, but when I tried it couldn’t come out. There were so many times when I tried to memorize your face, your voice, your everything, that I figured you shouldn’t be burdened with it. It was my weight to carry, and I have never welcomed a trouble more.

Remember that hunt we went on, ten years ago to this date? It was a werewolf case. It got dad. I just couldn’t let him die. So, I sold my soul. I suppose it doesn’t matter much now that he’s gone anyways, but I’m glad I did it. He lived so we could have a parent an adult to watch over us. I did it so Dean wouldn’t have to be the oldest, watch out for his younger siblings. I don’t regret it.

Dean, after reading this and thinking about our argument, I know you’re going to blame yourself. Please, try not to. I know you will anyways, but I love you and don’t want you to go through that. God, I can’t say that enough. I love you. I love you. I love you. Don’t you dare ever forget it or think otherwise. I will kick your ass from beyond the grave so help me. All I ask is that you accept this, don’t do what I did, and move on. Don’t forget me, but accept what has happened and move on. I don’t want you to suffer. I love you. Accept my passing and move forwards. Don’t be afraid to cry. Don’t be afraid to fear. To be afraid to experience emotions. Taking care of yourself takes care of more than yourself. I love you. The only thing I ask you to be strong for is Sam. I know he can take care of himself, but I still worry about the kid. I love you. More than you’ll ever know. I’ll miss you. I’ll miss your stupid jokes and the way your jaw sets when you’re trying to hold in your emotions and I’ll miss your eyes that remind me of second grade when I climbed up in the tree and played with the leaves after the bully pushed me to the ground and you sat with me, saying that you loved me and that nothing would ever happen to me. Nothing ever did. Know that. You couldn’t have stopped me, even if you wanted to. I love you. I love you so much.

Sammy, my not-so-little brother. You never gave up on me, even when I gave up on myself. I can never repay you for that. Please, I know you are going to find some way to blame yourself, and so will Dean. I just need you to be there for him. Remember all those times where the world was trying to tear us apart, and remember how we said, “Screw you. We’re a family.” I know you’re going to hurt, and I know you’re going to hurt bad. And that’s okay. It’s okay for you to want to cry, to scream, to break everything until there is nothing left and your knuckles bleed. It’s okay for you to fall to your knees, as long as you get back up again. Please, know I love you. I’ll never tell you enough. I never told you enough. I love you. I love your long hair (don’t tell Dean, but it always made me happy when you let me run my fingers through it). I love your eyes that I can never quite describe, the way they always seem to change colours but never fail to turn back to my favourite shade of sunshine through whiskey, copper against sage and honey and when they glow I never fail to smile because even when I felt like calling the hounds early, you always carried me forwards. You never even knew it. I love you. I’m going to miss your quirkiness and love for learning and the way that you always would light up when you knew the answer to a question or saw that we were proud of you. I’ll never stop being proud of you. I’ll never stop loving you.

All the way through hell, I’ll remember you boys and be okay. I’m going to be okay. I’m going to remember how much I love you two, how much I love the way that you’re always bickering to make me laugh and the way that Dean smells like gun smoke and whiskey that I can call home, the way that Sam always tries to look for the best in things, the way that even though life has thrown him every curveball it has that he still hasn’t backed down.

I’m going to try to stop writing how proud I am of you boys before I tear up and ruin this page like I did with the others. Please, be there for each other. Don’t drink away your pain. Remember me. Know I love you. I love you so much. God, I don’t think I’ll ever be able to stop writing it down. I love you. I love you. I love you. You two have always been there for me, so I ask that you be there for each other. I know you’ll both want to take the impala and drive away from each other and not speak about this incident for days, weeks- hell, probably not even years if I know anything about you two- but please, stay with each other. That’s all I want for you two. I love you. Please, help each other. Be available for each other. Don’t go through this alone. Always keep fighting for me. I love you both so much. More than I can say, more than I can write. I’d do this all again if I knew it meant that you two would at least grow up off the streets, with some sort of food in your stomachs on a somewhat regular basis.

I love you both. Please, carry on. I love you. Don’t worry. Hopefully, we won’t see each other anytime soon. When you go to heaven, think of me. Think of our family. We’ll be alright. You’ll be alright. And don’t bother trying to save me. I made sure with the demon that you two couldn’t bring me back.

I love you. So, so much.

Love from your sister,

Y/N

There was a short funeral.

Bobby showed up. Rufus showed up. Every single hunter they’d met showed up. Y/N had impacted a lot of people. She’d saved a lot of lives.

The body was up in flames before the sun set. Sam and Dean were at the front, where no one could see the tears on their faces. Not that anyone would have the audacity to mention it. Not when there were streaks on their own.

“I love you too, Y/N,” Sam whispered. His voice cracked, even though he barely was heard.

“More than you’ll ever know,” Dean finished. He looked to the sky. “I love you. We all do. I promise, no one will ever forget you. You have my word, sister.”

[wanderlustlondon]

15 July

some of these days are so foggy already i’m glad i wrote them on my phone every night

today megan and i made sure to set our alarms an hour earlier than we actually wanted to get up so we wouldn’t have a repeat of yesterday. somehow i still got up and showered and put on makeup in like 20 minutes though, it was super impressive. we struggled a bit catching the right bus, mostly bc we couldn’t find anyone who spoke enough english to help us. carly and emily were getting super annoyed with megan bc we couldn’t get it right but they could’ve mapped it out??? ugh whatever. we found the bus stop and some little old lady was trying to talk to us but only spoke french and italian but we managed to tell her we were going to versailles and she said the city is bad but the palace is good. 

the bus ride was real chill. we were all so exhausted no one was really talking much. we got off the buss and struggled finding our way to the train station and once again people were getting annoyed but we’re in a new country this isn’t easy for anyone???? luckily we found the station and got on a sweet double decker train. the ride was super long but at least it was smooth. i really liked the countryside of france. 

we got to versailles and it as hot af outside but we got to skip a line that almost wrapped around the tire building, thank god for online tickets. the palace itself was absolutely gorgeous it’s hard to explain it. and the audio guides helped a lot since we couldn’t read the history (i could make out a few of them, especially given the context). it was also nice bc then it’s just a bit more on your own and not too much interaction. although it was packed as fuck, literally shoulder to shoulder at some points. we made it through a lot of it but then we found a restaurant. carly and emily wanted to stop and rest of us were clothing our wallets but carly was gone before we could protest. so our bill was actually cheaper than the night before but it was the slowest service i’ve ever had in my life. it was also weird they brought the food out as it was ready instead of all at once. i just got some bread with chestnut jam and wow i love chestnut jam. we finished off walking through the exhibits but it was clear carly didn’t want to be there anymore, but me michelle and meg were still enjoying it and i just want dot tell carly to stop plaining and let us do our thing since we were ALWAYS letting her do what she wanted. 

we asked four different people where the exit was and nobody could help us figure it out, but we finally found it on our own after 15 minutes. then back at the train station we couldn’t figure out how to get the tickets we needed, bc it turns out the tickets we’d been buying all weekend were only good within france’s city limits and we had to get more expensive tickets to get back. also mel got 2 water bottles from a vending machine on accident and when she asked who wanted it megan and i both said we did and then carly just took it and chugged it. like aright fuck you too i’ve had 0 water all day but your needs are always more important. well whatever we’re going back on another double decker train and it’s fine.

when we got back to our room again megan and i just decided to relax for awhile before we got ready for the cabaret. it only took us 10 minutes to get ready for the cabaret so we had plenty of time to just sit and talk. we started talking about carly and shit was being thrown left and right, we were both just so fed up with her and her constant needs. it was a good bonding experience for sure and it just further assures me i made the right choice in friends abroad. 

so carly and co show up late for the train to dinner as always, and right away carly is like “well i thought you guys would map it out” WE DON’T EVEN KNOW WHERE WE’RE GOING SHE’S THE ONE WHO MADE THE RESERVATION. but we figured it out on a map in the train station and headed over to the arc de triumph. it’s stunning but of course carly ins’t impressed (like earlier when she said she wasn’t impressed with notre dame bc she saw the sangrada familia and that was better). we admired it for a bit before going to find our restaurant. i was annoyed at this point that “dinner will be expensive bc there’s nothing cheap around here” but we walked past multiple mcdonalds and tbh i could always go for some nugs. so we got to our restaurant and right away i’m not feeling it. carly orders champagne immediately and a few others joined her but i just got water. i played it super safe and ordered a chicken and lemonade just to get something fun since others were ordering champagne and fancy drinks. the food is delicious and i make sure to eat slowly since i won’t be buying any other food for sure. the girls decided we should get a fully bottle of champagne for the table which, i guess splitting it 6 ways wouldn’t be too bad. they don’t have the one we asked for the but the server said this other one was only €6 more. the waitress only brings out 2 new glasses so the four bitches have their champagne and i just keep on my water. even megan had ordered a gin and tonic. 

a few of them ordered dessert but i already knew this was the most expensive meal i’d ever had so i passed on my chance at crème brûlée. so the check comes out and it’s €350. turns out the champagne was €82. the four of them spent over €70 and i spent the least at €28.70. it was still pretty pricy but at least i wasn’t completely broke.

we found a “cheap” place for drinks and we all got some sort of shot (it was bartender’s choice) and i got a piña colada bc i’m awful yet wonderful. while we’re drinking megan starts telling mel how funny i am when i’m drunk and we started talking about how i feel really comfortable with her and john and riley where i can do those kinds of things and i appreciate her patience with my weirdness and she just kept saying i’m so fun and so funny and i’m great to have around and she was very happy they got me drunk in bath and that i keep drinking with them

drinks were CHUGGED bc they took so long to come. we went across the street for our cabaret show and all of us are stumbling bc we just drank full drinks in 10 minutes. we got seated in the very front because we were such a big group and after i had my free glass of champagne i was most definitely drink but thank goodness because it was 20 performances and 16 of them were completely nude women. no way i could’ve handled that sober. but they had some cool lighting and mirror illusions at least. and these two tap dancing men that did all sorts of styles and they went for a really long time and it was one of my favorite parts of the whole weekend tbh. emily said something about how john would say he could do that and how he’s a cocky asshole and i was just glad we got separated before i could talk shit to her. 

so cabaret was over and we want to find somewhere with some more drinks. most of us wanted a bar but carly said she wouldn’t buy alcohol unless it’s at a club. so we start the hunt of club and it took us over an hour to find one. we kept asking people where to find one and eventually carly started just walking up to people and yelling at them in english to help us, which really was getting us nowhere in life. finally we found one, but i was pretty sober by this point. it was €20 just to enter and have ONE drink and so of course i’m already salty bc that’s hella pricey. i get my vodka lemonade and sit at the table, very overwhelmed by the blasting music and darkness. i got to he bathroom when they all went to the dance floor and just break down in one of the stalls. it was all just too much for me to handle, and it was reaching my peak amount of traveling. megan found me in there and took me back out to the basement, where they found a new place to sit. a few of them went to dance but i legit could not stop crying no matter what i did. it’s not heavy sobbing like the bathroom but just constant tears. i felt awful bc i knew megan wanted to be there for emily on her birthday but i just can’t do clubs, especially not sober.

we go to leave and look for the train station and i asked the security guy if he knew english and he said no but i fired back right away “ou best la station de metro?” and he guided us the right way and it was super easy to figure out go me and my french. when we got back to the room megan called her sister in the hall and i heard her just breaking down completely. when she came in i instantly asked her what was bothering her and she just had some MASSIVE bitching about carry not being a good human being and how megan doesn’t feel wanted anymore. i told her she’s my favorite person on this trip and i’ve never once been annoyed with her and she is always more than welcome to be a part of my life. it was a sweet little moment and kept apologizing for taking me to the club but i kept apologizing for making her leave and we both just had a long day and were ready for the day to be done, especially considering it was 2:30 am. 

[duckybeth99]

Rules: Once you’ve been tagged, you are supposed to write a note with 92 truths about you. At the end choose 25 people to be tagged. I was tagged by @artsaeda !! LAST: Last drink: water Last phone call: tattoo parlor lmao Last text message: “No it’s on the 30th"
 Last song you listened to: love like you
 Last time I cried: probs last week? either due to general emotional instability or driving stress
 HAVE YOU EVER:
 Dated someone twice: what does that mean
 Been cheated on: no
 Kissed someone and regretted it: nope
 Lost someone special: yea
 Been depressed: l m a o y e p
 Been drunk and thrown up: nah man I’m just a tiny baby child
 IN THE PAST YEAR HAVE YOU:
Made a new friend: yea!
 Fallen out of love: nope! still goin strong w my s/o
 Laughed until you cried: yes and one I time remember clearly doing this was when watching crash bandicoot meme videos with my brothers on our trip to disneyland
 Met someone who changed you: yea I think so? I mean imo everybody changes everybody in some way so
 Found out who your true friends were: yea! ride or die and pick up the pieces of what was left behind and make something again
 Found out someone was talking about you: yea mostly positive but lm a o the drama I had at the end of my senior year???? that was Not Positive 
 GENERAL:
 How many people on tumblr do you know in real life?: I’m gonna answer this kinda weirdly bc there’s a lot of people I knew from high school on here (and yes we have that secret bond to never share outloud what we say online) so I’m just gonna do ppl I met online and then met in person SO: 4 (first best friend who later became s/o and their sister and two other close friends)
 Do you have any pets?: HECK YEA I DO I got an old man beta fish named Sapphire, I had my cat Marty who now lives with my brother’s girlfriend due to him needing more space, and my doggie baby bowie!!!!!!!
 Do you want to change your name?: not really? I like it and it’s unique, people remember it because not a lot of people have the same name, it gives me an easy nickname and it only sucked when (old) people used to mistake my name as Brittney
 What time did you wake up this morning?: ummmmm 6:56 because bowie was crying
 What were you doing last night?: vidya games (sims 4)
Name something you cannot wait for: xmas!!!!!
 Have you ever talked to a person named Tom: no? no don’t think so 
 What’s getting on your nerves right now?: ME AND MY EMOTIONAL INSTABILITY AND ALL THE PROBLEMS THAT COME FROM IT
 Blood type: idk??????
 Nickname: beth
 Relationship status: taken [loudly blows smooches to my s/o]
 Zodiac sign: virgo
 Pronouns: she/her
 Favorite tv show: i don’t have a favorite! it flops around a lot depending on mood. been binging a lot of S/ou/th Pa/rk lately lmao but I always have a close love for s u
 College: diablo valley college!
 Hair color: brown (EVERYONE THINKS ITS BLACK ITS NOT!!!!!!!!!!!)
 Do you have a crush on someone: I mean do crushes still count if you’re dating the person or is that just General Love or what
 What do you like about yourself: confused noises and shrugs a lot????????
 FIRSTS:
 First surgery: kidney surgery
 First piercing: earrings
 First sport you joined: ballet/tap dancing First vacation: DIDNEYLAN SINCE I WAS A BABY
 First pair of sneakers: how tf u expect me to remember that
 Eating: uh last thing I ate was pizza for dinner
 Drinking: water
 I’m about to: go to sleep
 Listening to: the white noise of the humming of Joel’s computer and the volume of the tv turned way down to help me fall asleep
 Want kids: yea
 Get married: yea
 Career: SHRUGS A LOT it flops around a lot and I have so many backup plans but I guess the biggest dream career goal is working as an artist for disney or pixar and writing webcomics/graphic novels
 WHICH IS BETTER:
 Lips or eyes: eyes! i think, idk feels right to me
 Hugs or kisses: hugs
 Shorter or taller: shorter. make me feel tall for i am smol
 Older or younger: this makes me uncomfortable what does this even mean
 Romantic or spontaneous: romantic
 Sensitive or loud: sensitive??? what is this about tho
 Hook up or relationship: relationship!
 Troublemaker or hesitant: hesitant???
 HAVE YOU EVER:
 Kissed a stranger: no
 Drank hard liquor: no
 Lost glasses/contacts: no
 Sex on first date: no
 Broken someone’s heart: I. I mean as far as I know no but I think that would be other people’s choice to say????
 Been arrested: no
 Turned someone down: no?
 Fallen for a friend: sort of, when thinking about how I’m demi, that’s kinda how me and my s/o happened
 DO YOU BELIEVE:
 In yourself: lol no
 Miracles: depends
 Love at first sight: not really
 Heaven: not really 
 Santa Claus: never did cuz of jehovah witness raising lmao uh can I tag like no one or very few ppl bc that’s A Lot ok if I gotta tag I’ll do @genjis-girlfriend @artiesrandomthoughts @ask-artsy-oncie @benneficial and I guess any dingle dang person who wants to do this and u can just say I tagged u to keep a chain goin

[thewinsisterchronicles]

I've got a request, you're the Winchesters sister (older than Sam but younger than Dean) and she sold her soul when she was about 16 to save John, she didn't tell anybody and 10 years later the hellhounds come to get her, she tries to be alone when she dies but it kinda failed and the boys have to see it happen (I hope it's not too much information!)

Word Count: 2818

Warnings: some swearing, a little bit gorey when she’s getting ripped to shreds by the hellhounds, just a heads up I almost made myself cry

A/N: ok so heads up I made myself want to curl up into a ball and die on the floor so im almost sorry for writing this but I couldn’t help myself its probably not even that emotional but still and whatever you do make sure that you do not listen to Brother by NEEDTOBREATHE bc I did and now im dead wow im making such a big deal out of this its probably because its like 1am but still

I hope this is what you wanted and sorry that it came out so late, but I just kind of got caught up in other stuff and couldn’t think of what to write soo yeah (btw I got the info for how to treat stab wounds from here and here should you guys ever feel the urge to know what to do in these scenarios)

“Dad!” Y/N heard Dean scream as the werewolf snuck behind John. She watched as the blade sank into his stomach, one hand stifling his grunt of pain.

“No,” she whispered. “No!” Quickly, she shot the monster in the back, running over to where Dean was trying to support his father.

“Y/N,” he snapped. “Bring the car around back. We’re taking him back to the motel and stitching him back up. Go,” he added when she didn’t move.

Nodding slowly, she ran to the impala. Not wasting any time, she swung open the door and opened the driver’s door. She had to hurry, had to be fast. They could fix dad, he’d be fine. Otherwise…

No.

He’d be fine.

“Open the back door,” he grunted, helping his father to the car. “Sit back there with him. I’m going to drive.”

Quickly they moved, wary of the precious time they had left. Y/N had barely sat down on the seat beside John when the car lurched forward. She gasped, closing the car door and glaring at Dean.

“Y/N,” her father’s voice sounded pained. She checked the wound. It was bad. “Y/N.”

“Yeah?” she responded, not paying much attention to his words. She was too busy trying to figure out what to do while they were driving.

“Don’t…” he coughed. “Don’t let the boys do anything stupid, okay?”

“You’re going to have to hold me to that,” she grunted, ripping off her flannel to use it to stop the blood flow. “You’re not dying on me. Not now.”

“Y/N-” he tried again.

“Dean,” she interrupted. “Step on it. He’s bleeding through everything I can give him.”

“Got it.” The car accelerated, blurring the lights of passing storefronts and homes as they sped towards the motel.

Y/N closed her eyes, pre-planning the next steps. She’d have to first get him inside without shifting him so he’d bleed harder, and then find gauze to stop the bleeding. Once that was finished, she’d clean the wound, sterilize it, and-

“Y/N!” Dean called back to her. “We’re here. Get Sam!” Y/N scrambled to get out of the car, racing inside.

“Y/N?” Sam asked, standing up from his position on the bed. “What-”

“Dad’s hurt,” Dean interrupted, half-carrying him through the door. “Y/N, what do we do?” Sam and Dean looked to her, awaiting orders. She had always been the one to stitch them all back up, even when she herself was injured. It was like they all had a role: Dad was the leader; Dean was the soldier who made sure all the orders were carried out; Sammy did the research; and Y/N was the medic. Together, they kicked ass.

Until now.

“Y/N!” Dean yelled at her, shaking her from her thoughts. “What do we do?”

“Lay him down on the bed,” she ordered. “Sam, apply pressure. Dean, sterilize it. Do not touch the knife. Leave it in. It’s stopping most of the blood flow, and any movement could cause further damage.”

They all scrambled in haste to attend her orders. She tore his clothes to further inspect his wound.

“Y/N,” John coughed. She immediately shoved a pillow beneath his head. “Y/N, remember what I said-”

“No,” she said sternly, looking him in the eye. “You are not dying. I am not becoming an orphan, not today. Sam! Where are you?”

“Coming!” he called rushing over to the bed with his cloth. Y/N scrambled back, letting Sam fill in her spot. Dean followed close behind, following the procedure that she had drilled into his brain from the numerous times she had performed them on him.

She turned to the bathroom, washing her hands and splashing some water on her face. Come on, Y/N, she thought to herself. Dad’s… face it. Dad’s dying, and you don’t know what to do. How can you save him?

Then it hit her.

She vaguely remembered seeing a crossroads on the way here. She knew the moment the knife had plunged into her father’s abdomen that she wasn’t nearly well trained enough to deal with this; not with the supplies she had. There was only one way to save him at this point.

Y/N ran out of the bathroom, snatching her jacket and racing out the door.

“Y/N!” Dean screamed for her, but she kept sprinting. “Y/N, get your ass back in here! Dad’s-” his voice broke off. He was unable to say it. She had to act fast.

Y/N always knew this day would come. That was why she carried a premade box around with her, inside her jacket when they hunted should the occasion ever arise. Quickly she made her way to the gravel road, stopping dead center in the parking lot. Checking to see she wasn’t being followed, she planted the box. Scooping the dirt back over it, she stood up.

“C’mon,” she tapped her foot impatiently. “Come on, you stupid son of a-”

“I’d watch that tongue, sweetie,” a voice from behind her. She whipped around, coming face to face with a young woman. She had dark features and wore black clothing. Not that it mattered to Y/N.

“Save my dad,” she practically yelled. The demon raised an eyebrow. She collected herself, taking a deep breath. “Please.”

“You know the terms, I assume?” the demon asked slowly. Too slowly for Y/N’s liking. “Ten long, good-”

“Yeah, yeah,” Y/N said, striding over to her. “Ten years. I know. Now shut up and take my soul.” With that, she planted her lips on the demon’s. She was shocked at first, but quickly responded.

“See you then,” she smirked before leaving Y/N to walk back to the motel, still in shock from what she had just done. She had barely walked back inside the motel room when Dean was in her face.

“What the hell, Y/N?” he nearly shouted. She frowned, confused as to why he wasn’t screaming, until she saw her father. His chest was gently rising and falling, as though he had just taken a nap and not been stabbed. The blood was hardly flowing, and he was… snoring? Y/N didn’t think that she’d ever heard her father snore before.

“He’s fine.” She shrugged him off, going to sit on her bed. She put her head in her hands.

“He wasn’t when you left!” he spat at her. Sam didn’t even look at his sister. “Y/N, he could have died, and you left. Next time you decide to bail on family, go ahead and stay away.”

“Dean,” she whispered. “Please. I was-”

“I don’t want to hear it,” he snapped. “Now that no one is dead, I’m going for a walk. Because I actually tried to help, so I deserve that.” With that, he left.

“Y/N,” Sam said after a minute of silence. “You did know… you did know that dad was going to be okay, right? Before you left?” She smiled wearily, trying not to memorize every feature of her little brother’s face. She attempted to not memorize his soft eyes, his optimistic tone, his mussy hair and innocence.

“Of course, Sam. I had it all under control.”

*Ten Years Later*

Y/N drank down the last of her whiskey as she glanced at the clock on her phone. It flashed 11:56pm in the faint light the screen provided. She sat down on the curb, watching as the cars drove by. She waited, ever so calm and patient, for it to come.

For them to come.

She had been experiencing the symptoms recently: visions; sounds; the whole shebang. Y/N thought she had done a fairly good job at hiding them from her brothers, but they weren’t totally convinced. That was why they were watching her from far away. Not that she knew.

It was ten years exactly. Ten years since the deal. Though Sam left and dad did die eventually, she didn’t regret it. There was some sort of a calm washing over her. She was going to die for a good cause, and her brothers wouldn’t see it.

A twig snapped behind her.

She didn’t even turn around. She sighed, standing up.

“I’ll come into the alley. Make it easier to clean up.”

Silently she walked into the alleyway, taking one last swig of alcohol before setting it on the ground. She reached into her pocket, pulling out a letter. She laid it by her canteen. A single tear slipped. I love you, Sam and Dean, she thought to herself. I love you boys.

“Take me away,” she whispered. Then hot breath blew against her neck, and she was knocked to the ground. She didn’t put up a fight.

“Y/N!” Dean screamed, sprinting towards her. Sam was close behind. “Y/N!”She turned her head around, a sad smile plastered on her face.

“Sam, Dean,” she coughed out, body being torn to shreds by some invisible force. “I-”

Her throat was slashed. She spoke no more.

After a moment, the slicing stopped.

The boys ran to her side, tears streaming down their faces. Sam clutched her jacket front, sobbing openly into her chest. There was no heartbeat, no warmth, no nothing expect the cold and metallic scent of her blood and body tissue that made him want to throw up.

“Y/N!” Dean screamed. “No, you selfish- how could you- why?” His body wracked with cries, leaning his forehead against hers, trying to will her to come back. It was nearly an hour before either of them saw the flask and folded paper beside it. Sam moved to it first. He read it, fresh tears springing to his eyes.

“Dean,” he croaked. “Dean.”

“What?” his brother snapped.

“She… she left a note.”

“… What?”

“Here. Read it.”

He thrust the paper out to Dean, who hesitantly took it. Taking a shuddering breath, he opened the letter.

Dear Sam and Dean,

I know I should have told you, but when I tried it couldn’t come out. There were so many times when I tried to memorize your face, your voice, your everything, that I figured you shouldn’t be burdened with it. It was my weight to carry, and I have never welcomed a trouble more.

Remember that hunt we went on, ten years ago to this date? It was a werewolf case. It got dad. I just couldn’t let him die. So, I sold my soul. I suppose it doesn’t matter much now that he’s gone anyways, but I’m glad I did it. He lived so we could have a parent an adult to watch over us. I did it so Dean wouldn’t have to be the oldest, watch out for his younger siblings. I don’t regret it.

Dean, after reading this and thinking about our argument, I know you’re going to blame yourself. Please, try not to. I know you will anyways, but I love you and don’t want you to go through that. God, I can’t say that enough. I love you. I love you. I love you. Don’t you dare ever forget it or think otherwise. I will kick your ass from beyond the grave so help me. All I ask is that you accept this, don’t do what I did, and move on. Don’t forget me, but accept what has happened and move on. I don’t want you to suffer. I love you. Accept my passing and move forwards. Don’t be afraid to cry. Don’t be afraid to fear. To be afraid to experience emotions. Taking care of yourself takes care of more than yourself. I love you. The only thing I ask you to be strong for is Sam. I know he can take care of himself, but I still worry about the kid. I love you. More than you’ll ever know. I’ll miss you. I’ll miss your stupid jokes and the way your jaw sets when you’re trying to hold in your emotions and I’ll miss your eyes that remind me of second grade when I climbed up in the tree and played with the leaves after the bully pushed me to the ground and you sat with me, saying that you loved me and that nothing would ever happen to me. Nothing ever did. Know that. You couldn’t have stopped me, even if you wanted to. I love you. I love you so much.

Sammy, my not-so-little brother. You never gave up on me, even when I gave up on myself. I can never repay you for that. Please, I know you are going to find some way to blame yourself, and so will Dean. I just need you to be there for him. Remember all those times where the world was trying to tear us apart, and remember how we said, “Screw you. We’re a family.” I know you’re going to hurt, and I know you’re going to hurt bad. And that’s okay. It’s okay for you to want to cry, to scream, to break everything until there is nothing left and your knuckles bleed. It’s okay for you to fall to your knees, as long as you get back up again. Please, know I love you. I’ll never tell you enough. I never told you enough. I love you. I love your long hair (don’t tell Dean, but it always made me happy when you let me run my fingers through it). I love your eyes that I can never quite describe, the way they always seem to change colours but never fail to turn back to my favourite shade of sunshine through whiskey, copper against sage and honey and when they glow I never fail to smile because even when I felt like calling the hounds early, you always carried me forwards. You never even knew it. I love you. I’m going to miss your quirkiness and love for learning and the way that you always would light up when you knew the answer to a question or saw that we were proud of you. I’ll never stop being proud of you. I’ll never stop loving you.

All the way through hell, I’ll remember you boys and be okay. I’m going to be okay. I’m going to remember how much I love you two, how much I love the way that you’re always bickering to make me laugh and the way that Dean smells like gun smoke and whiskey that I can call home, the way that Sam always tries to look for the best in things, the way that even though life has thrown him every curveball it has that he still hasn’t backed down.

I’m going to try to stop writing how proud I am of you boys before I tear up and ruin this page like I did with the others. Please, be there for each other. Don’t drink away your pain. Remember me. Know I love you. I love you so much. God, I don’t think I’ll ever be able to stop writing it down. I love you. I love you. I love you. You two have always been there for me, so I ask that you be there for each other. I know you’ll both want to take the impala and drive away from each other and not speak about this incident for days, weeks- hell, probably not even years if I know anything about you two- but please, stay with each other. That’s all I want for you two. I love you. Please, help each other. Be available for each other. Don’t go through this alone. Always keep fighting for me. I love you both so much. More than I can say, more than I can write. I’d do this all again if I knew it meant that you two would at least grow up off the streets, with some sort of food in your stomachs on a somewhat regular basis.

I love you both. Please, carry on. I love you. Don’t worry. Hopefully, we won’t see each other anytime soon. When you go to heaven, think of me. Think of our family. We’ll be alright. You’ll be alright. And don’t bother trying to save me. I made sure with the demon that you two couldn’t bring me back.

I love you. So, so much.

Love from your sister,

Y/N.

There was a short funeral.

Bobby showed up. Rufus showed up. Every single hunter they’d met showed up. Y/N had impacted a lot of people. She’d saved a lot of lives.

The body was up in flames before the sun set. Sam and Dean were at the front, where no one could see the tears on their faces. Not that anyone would have the audacity to mention it. Not when there were streaks on their own.

“I love you too, Y/N,” Sam whispered. His voice cracked, even though he barely was heard.

“More than you’ll ever know,” Dean finished. He looked to the sky. “I love you. We all do. I promise, no one will ever forget you. You have my word, sister.”