#obviously that’s not what happened and I’ve spent the last two days with that album on repeat and I do have some thoughts to share | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

anabsolutetrainwreck · 4 years ago

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oh, honey || h. styles

warnings: mentions of sex, kissing

word count: 2.3k

summary: when harry is struck with writer’s block, you come to the rescue and inspire him to write a song, which later becomes known as ‘adore you’...

You’d be lying if you said you weren’t harbouring a crush on a man you’d known for about five years. And for four and half years of that, you found he was the only thing that seemed to occupy your mind. With any crush, it was fun at first. The thrill of being around him brought a new spark to your life. But then, gradually, it became tiresome; the constant butterflies and the overthinking every tiny action began to aggravate you.

You’d had a boyfriend since you met Harry. He loved you and you tried to love him. You knew it wasn’t fair on him, and you felt an ounce of extra guilt every day that relationship went on. You knew it was selfish to paint yourself a mirage of a perfect life with a man you knew you couldn’t love.

The relationship lasted eight months. It had never meant to last that long. At first, it was all fun and games - neither of you took things too seriously. A bit of harmless sex and late nights with red wine and David Attenborough documentaries. But then things took a turn, and he began talking of moving in together and meeting each other’s parents. Your parents would have loved him, you knew that. But what good was that when you didn’t love him?

Eventually, the two of you sat down and decided that maybe it was best if you went your separate ways. It was a mutual decision. And you both agreed that it was fun whilst it lasted. So, this relationship you’d gotten yourself into to get your mind off Harry had ended because you could never love this man the way he wanted you to.

It had been a rough eight months for you. Harry had been in somewhat of a mood with, well, everybody. Mitch concluded that he was probably just stressed with writing for the album and making sure everything was perfect for his debut solo album. But, though nobody necessarily picked up on it at the time, when you announced that you’d broken up with your boyfriend, Harry seemed to be in a much better mood ever since.

So, now, as you walked into the studio, you ran your hands along your jean-clad thighs. It was a desperate attempt to rid your palms of the sweat your nervousness had caused. Sarah had called you and asked if you were free to swing by the studio. She said something about needing a new mind to help Harry. Instantly, you agreed. You would always be there for Harry.

Sat on one of the couches was Harry Styles himself, his hand over his eyes. He was alone, his guitar beside him. A notebook of his lyrics was tossed aside, clearly neglected in tiredness or frustration. “Harry?” you called out, closing the door behind you.

He looked up quickly, startled by the sudden disturbance. “Y/N,” he smiled slightly, sitting up properly. “What are you doing here?”

“Thought you could use some help,” you shrugged, slipping out of your black puffer jacket. “And clearly you need it. Where is everyone?”

“Oh, they went to get some lunch at some place down the road,” he replied.

“And what about you? Aren’t you hungry? You need to eat, Harry.”

“I know. I will, I will. I’m just trying to finish this song, is all.”

You nodded slightly, sitting down in front of him on the coffee table. His hair was disheveled and his eyes were resting on top of dark bags. “Let me see,” you said, extending your hand.

Slowly, he placed the notebook into your hands. You stared down at the scribbled lyrics. Things were crossed out; things were circled; things were accompanied by little doodles. On the very top of the page, though, was the rushed title (above a few others, which had been crossed out): ADORE YOU. “I’m just gonna put it aside and come back to it,” he sighed. “Wanna get high? It always helps me write music.”

“No, Harry. I don’t want to get high with you. If you leave it, then you’ll never come back to it and nobody will ever get to hear it,” you replied.

“Except you. I want you to hear it,” he said quietly, so quiet, in fact, that you barely heard it.

He wasn’t looking at you, thankfully. At least he wouldn’t see the mix of nerves and excitement at what he’d just muttered. You shifted slightly, placing the notebook down beside you, “Well, then you��ll have to finish it, won’t you?”

Finally, he looked up at you. You felt tiny as his eyes explored your face, drinking in every last inch of your features. A small smile worked its way up onto his face, “I suppose I will.”

So, Harry began projecting his ideas onto you. He explained what the song was about and the kind of things he wanted to write. He sang the chorus to you, and you swore you melted right there and then. Hearing his voice fill the otherwise silent room you were in, with no other intent than to please you, filled your head with all sorts of fantasies. “It’s good, Harry. It’s really good,” you nodded, smiling sweetly at him.

“Obviously not good enough if I can’t think of anything other than the first verse and the chorus,” he groaned, raking his long fingers through his unruly hair.

In a moment of fleeting confidence, you reached out and squeezed Harry’s hand. He looked up at you, his green lagoons of eyes staring directly into your own. “Harry, stop. You’re doing yourself no good thinking like that. No songs start out as the greatest thing ever written; you have to put time and care and effort into them,” you said gently. “Let me help, Harry. I don’t want you to go through this alone.”

He nodded, squeezing your hand in return. He pulled out a pen and stared expectantly at you. You smiled - you were happy he was willing to let you help. “What did you have in mind?” he asked, eager to hear a new outlook on these lyrics he had grown sick of reading over and over again.

“Well,” you began, “it obviously has a sort of ethereal vibe to it. So, summer skies? Like, maybe something about ‘you under summer skies’?”

He nodded slowly, absorbing your suggestion. Until, suddenly, his eyes lit up. You knew the look. You’d seen it many a time before. It was the look he adopted whenever he’d been struck by the perfect slice of inspiration he needed to write an incredible piece of music. “You, Y/N, are a bloody genius! ‘Your wonder under summer skies’,” he grinned.

He scribbled the lyric down desperately. You couldn’t help but admire him as ideas escaped his brain and fell onto the paper before him. He finally looked back up at you, the page now littered with prompts and snippets of lyrics. “Thanks, Y/N. You’re a lifesaver,” he said.

You chuckled, “I didn’t do anything.”

“Well, you didn’t do anything for my other songs but they exist because of you,” he rushed out, clearly not comprehending his words. “Shit. Sorry, that- that didn’t mean to come out.”

You smirked. You had the power now, after four and a half years of falling in love with Harry Styles and making a massive fool of yourself in front of him. He’d slipped up and now you were in control. “Yeah? What songs did I unknowingly contribute to?” your confidence was rare, especially when it came to things like this, and yet here it was.

Unfortunately for you, Harry’s natural confidence matched your own. A playful grin swept up his features as he said, “Wouldn’t it be more fun for you to listen to the album and figure it out for yourself?”

“Or you could just tell me the titles?” you asked, your tone hopeful.

He hesitated for a moment, his confident smirk faltering for a split second. But, before you had time to say anything else, he said, “There’s this song called Sunflower, Vol. 6. I wrote that because your favourite flowers are sunflowers. And I wrote Cherry because I know you love cherries. And then there’s Golden, because that’s what you are, Y/N. And then there’s Watermelon Sugar because I know that In Watermelon Sugar is your favourite book. And now Adore You, because, I swear to God, Y/N, that’s all I want to do.”

He was rambling and you couldn’t help but smile. Whilst you’d spent your days rambling to your friends about how you were convinced you’d remain single forever if he didn’t happen to fall hopelessly in love with you, it appeared that he’d been writing down all the tiny details about you in his songs. Because it was true: sunflowers were your favourite flowers and cherries were your favourite fruit and In Watermelon Sugar was your favourite book.

He was staring at you now, his eyes searching your face for some sort of a hint on how you were feeling. When you said nothing, your lips parted slightly, he went on, “Hell, I wrote Cherry years ago. I wrote it when you were dating that guy... what was his name?”

“Ollie,” you replied quietly.

He knew what his name was. He never forgot. It had been two years but he’d never forgotten the eight months of hell where he had to watch you cuddle up to him and take him home after your group of friends had gone out for drinks. He didn’t know why he wanted to hear you say his name again. Some sadistic form of self-torture maybe, hearing another boy’s name on your lips. “Yeah, Ollie,” he played it off as if he really had forgotten your ex boyfriend’s name. “I wrote it when you were dating him. And I’ve been sitting on it for two years because I thought if I released it then you would know I’ve been in love with you for four years. But then I just thought ‘you know what, fuck it’, so I’m putting it on the album. And Anna, that was about you. But I’ll never officially release that one. Because I wrote it one night when I was alone and I couldn’t get you out of my head and I needed to tell somebody how I felt about you. Even if that was just a bit of paper. But then I played it to you, do you remember? And you loved it, so I swore to never release it because it felt like I’d confessed to you how I felt.”

As you listened to him ramble away about all of these songs he’d written about you and how much you clearly meant to him, you couldn’t help but smile. You’d dreamed of Harry confessing how much he, well, adored you. And you’d only ever thought it would be an occurrence in your fantastical dreams, and yet here he was, staring back at you, rambling on about how much he loved you. “Wait, Harry,” you spoke up, “isn’t ‘watermelon sugar’ something to do with oral sex?”

You chuckled as he flushed, “That’s besides the point.”

“And what is the point?”

“That I’m in love with you and, I pray to God, you’re in love with me back.”

Overwhelmed with joy, you couldn’t help but throw yourself at Harry. The feeling of his hands around your waist in a way that wasn’t just a slightly prolonged hug goodbye after a night out or a slightly overly flirtatious gesture of Harry’s felt electric. Harry’s hands on you in a way that was meant to be a moment of appreciation shared between two lovers was how it was always supposed to be.

After so long of knowing one another, falling for each other and sharing life changing moments, everything was finally slipping into place. You’d been there when One Direction first began their hiatus. You’d been there when he cut his hair off. You’d been there when he went to Jamaica to write his first solo album. You’d been there, albeit your eyes were shut most of the time, when he was dangling a thousand feet in the air for the Sign of the Times music video shoot. He’d been there when you finished university. He’d been there when you lost your mum. He’d been there when your sister had her first child. He’d been your date to your brother’s wedding. All of these things, and you couldn’t help but feel they mounted to this very moment.

You pulled your head back, admiring his face for a moment. Your arms were around his neck and everything just felt... right. His smile was bright and his eyes were full of nothing but loving joy. Without another moment’s hesitation, your lips were on his. You weren’t sure who leaned forward, but all you knew was that this was what you’d been waiting for for almost five years. And, now you were here, showing Harry how much you loved him, the wait seemed worth it. “We’ve got so much time to make up for,” he whispered.

“Good thing we’ve got all the time in the world then, isn’t it?”

He grinned, embracing your body. All he’d wanted to do for four years was to praise it. And now he finally had the chance to. That was until the two of you heard a voice behind you, “We only left for lunch!”

#harry styles #harry #harrystyles #harry styles imagine #harrystylesimagine #harryimagine #harry imagine #harry styles fanfiction #harry fanfiction #harry styles fanfic #harry fanfic #harry styles x y/n #harry styles x you #harry styles x reader #harry x y/n #harry x reader #harry x you

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natromanxoff · 4 years ago

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Record Mirror (July 14, 1979): 119/?

THE QUEEN BACKLASH ENDS HERE

WITHOUT DOUBT Queen are among that elite number of bands universally hated by the rock press.

The rancour is, make no mistake, mutual which is understandable. If you find yourself on the receiving end of an inveterate dislike at the outset of your career and watch it being nurtured and carefully cultivated over the next six years you’re bound to retaliate.

Queen’s hatred manifests itself by their continued habit of ignoring the music press i.e. refusing to give interviews. There is the occasional token “chat”, pointless as it is innocuous, but in the main it amounts to a blanket “No.”

One of the last interviews Freddie Mercury gave was the last nail in the perspex coffin. Under a headline which boldly asked ‘Is This Man A Prat?’ the king of the leotards was demolished by one of the old school Queen haters and Freddie obviously came to the conclusion, in its wake, that interviews in future would be both superfluous (he was popular enough) and detrimental.

The curtain, velvet naturally, closed.

Roger Taylor, a little wary, a little weary, sits stiffly in an armchair. The juggernauts rattling the Chelsea Street outside create a sonorous buzz bomb hum in the room.

You expect a member of Queen to look elegant. In fact Roger is only wearing a wine colour mohair jacket, black shirt and blue jeans.

He apologises for being a little late and explains how he went to the wrong address. Roger seems to be the only member of Queen left who is prepared, albeit rarely, to open his mouth in the presence of a hack. A question springs to mind . . . why?

“We all sat around a table before I flew over from Munich to discuss the press situation and we agreed I should be the one to represent the band. Freddie is very uncompromising and refuses to have much to do with journalists.

“Obviously, he’s had a few raw deals with them in the past,” observes Taylor.

Roger himself has a rather low view of the music press.

“Most of it is rubbish. There was something I liked recently, a piece on Malcolm McLaren, but in the main I think I’m the only one of Queen to actually read the music papers.”

Why does he think the band are systemically slagged?

“I think it’s because Queen have always come across as being a rather confident band. We seemed, to other people at least, to be very sure of ourselves. I think the press may have misconstrued the confidence, mistaking it for a form of arrogance. Hence they became wary of our motives which bred a dislike for our music.”

Now that’s what I call a neat conclusion.

At the risk of being sent to Coventry by my colleagues I’d like, if I may, to come clean. I love Queen (you’re fired, Ed).

I think it all began with a simple pre-packed but indisposable line – “Dynamite with a laser beam” and has continued uninterrupted (despite the occasional flaw) right through to ‘Queen Live Killers’.

A combination of reasons, Freddie Mercury’s lascivious lisp – the most attractive intonation known to man . . . Brian May’s reel ‘em off rococo riffs that would, in his capable hands, transform the theme music for ‘Waggoners’ Walk’ into a meisterwork . . . John Deacon’s almost stoic stance, incongruous yet integral . . . Roger Taylor’s intense power, so unexpected from one so slight . . . the ability to go over the top without failing into the trap of caricature . . . a desire to give the punters what they want without pandering . . . that cast iron confidence . . . those nine glorious winter weeks of ‘Bohemian Rhapsody’ which kept the cold away from my soul . . .

Yes, I love Queen.

Roger explains the story behind ‘Killers’ which features just about every Queen classic which ever found its way into a silk lined memory bank.

“We always knew that one day we would make a live album. I think it was well planned. About 90 per cent of our last European tour was recorded on a mobile unit and we then spent weeks sitting through the songs in the studio.

“The result is a 100 per cent LIVE album. Nothing has been touched up in the process of selection, I think that’s pretty rare these days. Many ‘live’ albums are tampered with.”

The choice of single is unusual – ‘Love Of My Life’. “It’s not so unusual when you hear the way it came out. The song seems to have such a wide appeal. Everywhere we go the reaction to it is the same. The audience are just bursting to sing along.”

The result is Queen’s best single since ‘Don’t Stop Me Now’ (that was their LAST one crawler, ED)

As I mentioned earlier the band are currently residing in Munich where they are “experimenting” in the studio.

“We are recording in a totally different way for us,” says Roger who speaks with a delicate London accent only typical of cockneys with dramatic training and David Essex.

“Every time we entered a studio in the past we had a good idea of what we were going to do. This time we started from scratch and the result is amazing. The music is nothing like anything we’ve done before, I guess you could say it’s much simpler.”

And this novel approach to their music also extends to their shows. On their next British tour – in the late Autumn – the band will be playing much smaller venues than they are accustomed to.

“In London for example we went to play to audiences of about two or three thousand in different areas. I think it’s much fairer to the fans.”

But won’t this affect their stage show which is after all a crucial factor for any powerpomp outfit?

“Not really. We will just scale down the show accordingly. Besides,” he says taking another bite out of the biscuit, “we haven’t used dry ice in years.”

The monkey on Queen’s back, as corpulent and cantankerous as ever, has been put there by those who firmly believe the band can never emulate past achievements. Roger is cognizant of its presence but refuses to unpeel its bananas.

“That all began after ‘Bohemian Rhapsody’. When it stayed at number one all those weeks we were kindly informed that we would never be able to make another single to rival it both artistically and from the point of view of sales.

“Yet ‘We Are The Champions’ sold a great deal more and has since become the biggest selling single in the entire history of Elektra Asylum – our label in the States.

“We don’t do the amazingly complex things any more because we’ve moved on from that. We concentrate on the music we are doing now and we intend to do it the best we can, it’s ridiculous looking behind and and what you’ve done.

“There’s nothing like going back on the road to re-unite the bond between the four personalities and strengthening our belief in the band. We are a real working unit and, in my experience of the music business, one of the most democratic bands around today.”

A statement like that cries out to be expounded.

“People think every member of all the bands, not naming any names, are treated equally that is get the same money as their colleagues. That’s rubbish. In many bands there are a couple of guys that get all the money. The rest are on wages. Queen share the profits equally.”

And they don’t have a manager taking his cut either, John Reid departed a couple of years back and now the band themselves make all the major policy decisions. Why did they decide to dispense with the services of a manager?

“Basically because we were fed up with giving other people money. Y’know it never ceases to amaze me how naive those guys are in bands who have just had their first hit. After all this time I’ve forgotten just how naive we must have been at the beginning.

“I mean, everything seems so great when you get into the charts for the first time. You’re living on cloud nine and nothing else matters. But in truth that hit means absolutely nothing. So few people achieve any amount of financial success in this business.

“Oh, you think, you’re really living . . . for a while. Somebody gets you a flat in Chelsea and it’s all free. But one day the rent stops being paid for you and you realise you’re skint.

“Since John Reid has gone the four of us have always made a point of discussing everything together. We have various people working for us but all the important decisions are made by us alone. That way we get freedom of choice – and financial independence.”

My attention is suddenly diverted.

“FORTY-LOVE!” Wimbledon, the Persil White opiate for the hoi polloi squashed in a strawberry crush wrings out its perspiring petticoats on the TV in the next room. Roger’s girlfriend, an extremely attractive French girl called Dominique, is engrossed. The couple have lived together for two years. Crippled old marriage questions permeate the air.

“I don’t believe in marriage,” says Roger. “It’s simply a contract and the fewer contracts I enter into the better. If you get on well with someone then there isn’t any harm in living with that person – but marriage is something else again.”

They live in a six bedroomed Victorian house just outside London, which is set in 20 acres. Roger has a “tiny” town house in Barnes as well. What’s it like having a bank full of money at the age of 29?

“I don’t hide away from life. Queen have never been one of those ‘being grabbed in the street’ type bands. It may happen when the four of us are together – but when we are out alone we are seldom bothered. That gives me the opportunity to enjoy myself. I go to clubs a lot. I like having a good time. I don’t think you could describe any of the band as leading sheltered lives.

“But I have completely lost touch with how much things cost. When you find yourself living in hotels for so long you never really deal in money as such. Everything is available whenever you want it – but you never see the cash actually being handed over.

“I’ve forgotten what it was like to be penniless which Queen were for years. I guess that must happen to many successful rock bands.”

Another thing that happens to many successful rock bands – they quit the country. But not Queen it appears.

“We have always based ourselves in England and I see no reason why we shouldn’t continue to do so. We could leave at any time but we choose to stay. People believe we are tax exiles because we spend a lot of the time out of the country recording in studios all over Europe and touring.”

And what will happen when the band finally trudge wearily down the road leading to that ivory strewn elephants’ graveyard . . . ?

“I know it’s bound to happen one day. I suppose I’d take a long, long holiday . . . and then make a solo album.”

#queen #queen band #roger taylor #dominique beyrand #freddie mercury #brian may #john deacon #record mirror #record mirror july 1979 #queen scans

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noladyme · 4 years ago

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You and Me makes Three - Part 1

Lyla moved to San Fransisco for work, and for a fresh start. The standoffish guy across the hall of her sublet peaks her interest in more ways than one; and when he finally opens up, she jumps at the chance to get to know him; and whatever it is his dark secret is.

Eddie Brock x OC Lyla

TW: smut and fluff

I’d found the sublet on craigslist; which I came to regret, when meeting the current tenant. Ziggy – as the guy called himself – turned out to be a long haired ultra-deuche; who’d spent most of our first meeting looking down my top, and talking about his upcoming tour of Illinois, with his band; Dirty Riders. I’d had my share of adventures with guys in bands; but in Ziggy’s case, I could literally smell the perfume from the chick he’d probably banged the night before.

After spending 20 minutes trying to distract me from the task at hand; I finally got him back on track, and we’d come to an agreement on the rent for the 3 months I’d be using his place. It was steep, but after having landed the job at a private school – and having been asked to start the week after – I needed a home; if only temporarily, while I looked for something else.

With most of my stuff in storage; all I had with me the day I was supposed to move in, was a couple of suitcases; and three boxes of essentials – like my books, pens and notes. And of course, my computer – my lifeline.

The neighborhood wasn’t the greatest; so, when I realized the door phone wasn’t working, and the Zigster wasn’t answering his cell, I was lightly panicking. I was standing alone on a street in a new city; with my most valued belongings, and no way to get out of there; as the cab that had brought me, took off as soon as the driver got my last box out of the trunk.

I kept calling Ziggy, and pounding the button for the apartment; but nothing came of it. I sat down on the doorstep, and was just about ready to cry; when a guy in his 30’s, wearing a casual leather jacket, walked up to the door with a key. “Excuse me”, he muttered, pulling out his keys. I looked up at him. It was hard making out his eye-color – blues, greens and browns meshed together to make a color all of its own. I found myself caught up in trying to distinguish the different shades in them; when I realized that he was about to unlock the door, and walk in.

“Hey”, I said. “Do you live here?”. He sent me a friendly but reserved smile; making me also notice his full lips; and the way his front teeth were just a little bit crooked – just enough to make him look interesting. “Yeah”, he said. “I do… Can I help you?”. I let out a relieved smile. “I live here too”, I said. “Or, I’m supposed to… I’m subletting from Ziggy”. He raised his brows. “You’re a friend of Ziggys?”. “Not exactly”, I scoffed. “He’s leaving town for a few months, and is letting me use his place… but the door-phone isn’t working, and he isn’t picking up his cell”.

The man seemed to be having an internal dialogue, before coming to a conclusion. “Yeah. Ok… come on in”. “Thank you!”, I smiled; almost crying in relief. I picked up my suitcases, as he unlocked the door, and carried them inside; after which I got the first two boxes – the man holding the door for me. I thought I heard him mutter “Fine!” under his breath, before he stepped outside, grabbing the last box for me. “Oh crap! Careful, that’s heavy”, I managed to say; before he groaned from the weight of the many books, I’d stored in it. “Shit, no kidding”, he grunted.

He put the box down just inside the door. “Do you need help up the stairs?”, he asked; obviously hoping for me to say no. I smiled and shook my head. “Nah, I’m good. But thanks!”, I said. I stuck out my hand to shake his, and told him my name. “I’m Eddie”, he answered. “I guess we’re neighbors. I live across the hall from Ziggy”. “Thanks for the help, Eddie”, I grinned. “I’m Lyla… by the way”. “Nice to meet you”, he muttered. He walked up the stairs, sending me an inquisitive look over his shoulder.

Five trips up and down the stairs later; I finally had all my things outside Ziggys door. I tried calling him again; and heard a phone ring behind the door. You’ve got to be kidding me! I banged the door. “Ziggy! I’m here”, I yelled. “Open up, you dick”, I added, below my breath. I looked behind me, at what was apparently Eddies door; and saw something move behind the peephole.

I banged the door again. “Ziggy?”. Someone coughed and moved around some stuff behind the door; and Ziggy finally opened; looking at me with a seriously hungover expression. “Fuck. What’s today?”, he rasped. “Wednesday”, I said exasperatedly. His eyes widened. “Shit, beautiful. I’m so sorry!”, he said smilingly. “Come one in!”. “My name is Lyla”, I reminded him, and stepped in behind him. “Lyla-licious”, Ziggy sniggered; making me want to barf violently.

The studio apartment was, if possible, worse than I had imagined. A heavy smell of incense, weed and stale beer hung over the room; and a collection of bongs shaped like female torsos sat on a shelf. Ziggy had decorated the wall over his bed with posters of his own band.

Ziggy scrambled to get his things together. Apparently, he’d not packed up his things for the upcoming tour of steakhouses, coffeeshops and dive-bars throughout Illinois. “Let me just get this…”, he smirked at me; before rubbing himself as close as possible to me to get to a pack of xxl-condoms on a shelf in the kitchen area. “You know, if you need it, you’re welcome to hang around after I get back”. “I’m gonna be pretty focused on getting something permanent set up”, I smiled; swallowing bile. “Absolutely, yeah. That’s so cool”, he said; leaning against the counter I was standing by. “Just let me know, ok?”. He put his hand on my shoulder, and squeezed it. “Sure…”, I said, and stepped back; going to check out the rest of the space.

It was one room – combined livingspace/bedroom/kitchen. A small bathroom with – thank God! – a bathtub; which was going to need some serious cleaning before I’d even put a foot in it. But it was mine… at least for the next three months. It’s not a lot, I thought to myself. But I can work with this.

Ziggy seemed to have his stuff packed up; and was standing in the doorway to the small bathroom; blocking my exit. He had a guitarcase casually hanging from one shoulder. “So… I’m ready to go”, he smirked. I nodded and half smiled. “Keys?”, I said. “Right. Here…”. He handed me a set of keys “If I get any mail…”. “I’ll let you know; once a week, like we agreed”. “Yeah”, he smirked and nodded; looking me over like I was edible. “So, I’ll call you?”. I swallowed bile again. “Yup”, I said, and reached out my hand to shake his. He took it; and held on to it; letting his thumb stroke my fingers. I will tear off your arm if you don’t let go, I thought to myself.

“Take care, Lyla”, he said; and winked at me; before finally moving away from the doorframe; and grabbing his bags to leave. “Shit, I forgot. The guy across the hall… he’s kind a of weird. Be careful, ok?”. “Sure…”, I muttered, and walked after him to the door, closing it behind him. I let out an audible sigh of relief, and put on the door chain.

---

I opened the windows, and got to cleaning. An old ashtray shaped like an avocado, turned out to be an actual shell of an avocado; and for the third time that day, I almost vomited. Riffling through some old dusty cd’s of Ziggys, I found a Fleetwood Mac album. “Yes!”, I cried out. At least you have that going for you, Ziggy, I thought – until I realized he’d never unwrapped the cellophane around the cover. I unwrapped it myself, put on the album; and skipped to my favorite song; singing along to the lyrics. “… well, I’ve been afraid of changing, ‘cuz I built my life around you. But time makes you bolder, even children get older…”.

Someone knocked on the door. For a second, I was afraid Ziggy had changed his mind about touring, and had come back. I opened the door slightly, leaving the chain on. Outside stood Eddie. “Hi”, I said cautiously. He seemed warmer. “Hey. I think you dropped this in the hallway”. He was holding one of my notebooks. I unlatched the chain, and opened the door fully, taking the book from him. “Weird”, I said. “I could swear I’d packed it in the bottom of one of the boxes”. Eddie smiled nervously. “Well… maybe it jumped out”, he said. “Maybe”, I chuckled. “Thanks”.

He lingered. “The music…”, he said. “I’m sorry. Is it too loud?”, I asked. He shook his head. “Nah, it’s fine”, he said. “Just different than what usually comes out of this apartment”. I laughed. “Yeah… The Zigster seems to have a very specific taste”. “Yeah?”, Eddie smiled. “You should see his collection”, I said. He nodded and smiled crookedly. “Maybe… sometime”.

I noticed the door to his apartment was open. It seemed like the mirror opposite of mine. Just less disgusting. I met Eddies eyes. I still couldn’t figure out the color of them – all I could conclude was that they were… kind. I would have lost myself in them, if he hadn’t turned to walk back into his own place. “Uhm, Eddie?”, I said. He looked at me again. “Could you point me in the direction of a good… grocery store?”. Idiot… He scratched his head. “Yeah, I mean… I do most my shopping at Mrs. Chens, down the street”, he said. “Just don’t tell her you know me. She’ll try to sell you meditation tapes and scented candles”. I laughed. “A scented candle wouldn’t hurt this place”, I said. “Ziggy left behind some pretty gnarly smells”. He laughed. “He’s a… special guy”. Our eyes met again for a moment. Eddie seemed to want to say something else, but then his eyes moved, as if he was listening to something. “I gotta go”, he said; and went into his apartment, closing the door. He's strange, I thought. But something inside me wanted to figure him out.

---

The next few days went by without much happening. I finally finished cleaning my new living-space – except for the mattress. I couldn’t get myself to sleep on it, after I’d taken of the old bedding left behind by Ziggy; and finding quite a few stains I didn’t even want to touch with rubber-gloves – so I’d slept on the couch so far.

Once, I’d run in to Eddie by the mail slots; exchanging a friendly helloand a smile. He seemed to be in a hurry to get out of the door, carrying a messenger-bag and a motorcycle helmet. I noticed him opening his own slot. It had E. Brock, written with bold letters on it. Watching him walk away down the hall to the door; I couldn’t help but bite my lip and smile. He moved like he was late for something; but at the same time didn’t want anyone to tell him when he was supposed to get there. Like some kind of internal struggle, I just wanted to unwrap and explore.

Saturday morning, I woke up early for once, craving coffee and carbs. I had neither of those things in the kitchen; so, I got dressed in my favorite jeans and a light, loose t-shirt, to head out and track something down. As I was still new to San Francisco, I wasn’t sure about how the weather would be in October. I brought my short leather jacket. Just in case. I put a notebook and a pen in my shoulder-bag, and was off.

Outside the building I grabbed a free paper to have something to read. I took a streetcar towards the Mission District; enjoying the sunshine and smells from food carts we passed. Hunger was about to take me over; and I opened my paper, to distract myself. The headlines were mostly fluff stories and ads; except for a couple on the murder of a local politician, and animal attacks by the harbor. Some drug dealers had been found with their heads bitten clean off. I winced at the thought; before turning the page, and a new header caught my eye.

Home robberies in Downtown Oakland – Gangs or criminals on city payroll? - Story by Eddie Brock.

I was surprised for a second. He didn’t strike me as a journalist in the traditional sense.

The story was mostly an opinion piece, but was based heavily on facts he’d dug up from interviews with victims, and homeless youth in the area of the robberies. Eddie was questioning the arrests made on young gang members for the crimes; and in stead suggesting that city-leadership was paying crime syndicates to commit the robberies, to be able to gentrify the area. If he was right; this was a big story; so, I was finding it strange to see the story in a free newspaper.

I arrived near Mission Dolores Park; having read about a nice, upmarket coffee shop there; with donuts that the blogger had written were to absolutely die for. They turned out to be less so. After standing in line for 30 minutes; I was handed a stale cup of organically sourced, fairtrade coffee; and a donut that was hard enough to break a window. Stepping outside the shop; I decided to give it a chance; and bit in to it – instantly almost choking on the floury consistency of the pastry.

“They’re not very good, are they…”. I turned to face Eddie; standing with an amused smile on his face. “Nope”, I answered, and spat out the donut-bite into a napkin. “Sorry…”, I said embarrassedly. “No worries”, he chuckled. “If I’d known you were coming here, I’d have told you. They’re vegan…”. I raised my brows at him. “Shit, sorry! Are you vegan?”, he asked. “No”, I shook my head and chuckled. “But I’ve for sure had better vegan food than this”. He sighed and seemed to ponder something. “Come on”, he said, and gestured for me to follow him.

We walked down a narrow street; passing smaller shops and street vendors – some of which seemed to know Eddie, and sent him friendly nods. “You’re popular around here”, I said; walking next to him. He chuckled in response. “I dunno. I prefer buying from smaller shops. Personal touch, you know?”. “I get it”, I said. “Locally sourced, and eco-friendly; right?”. He shrugged. “Something like that”.

He stopped by a small storefront; displaying pride-flags and caricatures of politicians in the window. I knew already that I would like this place. The man behind the counters face lit up. “Yo, Ed! Back so soon, man?”, he grinned. “I know you got that parasite thing, but seriously…”. Eddie looked uncomfortable for a second. “Yeah, Don… this is my new neighbor”. He introduced me, avoiding my eyes. “She went to La Boulange”. Don inhaled sharply through his teeth. “Yikes… New in town?”, he asked. I chuckled and nodded. “Coffee black?”, Eddie asked me. I nodded. “Give us two blacks and a couple of glazed yeast”. “I’ll add some sprinkles for the lady”, Don winked friendlily. Eddie groaned. “Just… don’t make them the green ones”, he said. “I was high for 12 hours straight last time”. I laughed out loud.

We left the store; Eddie politely having paid for our coffees and donuts. Through the window I saw Don point at me, and give Eddie the thumbs up and a wink. “He’s a character”, I smiled. “He sure is”, Eddie answered. His voice was deliciously raspy, and watching him speak I couldn’t help but wonder what kind of trouble his lips could get in to with mine. I had to shake myself out of the thought. “Thanks for this”, I said. “You haven’t tasted it yet”, he said.

I bit in to my pastry. It was carb-heaven in my mouth. “Oh. Oh my God!”, I said, mouth full. “I know, right?”, Eddie smiled. I raised my brows and nodded fiercely. “It’s why I go out of my way to come here every morning”. “Don’t journalists work all over?”, I asked, covering my mouth with my hand, as I was still chewing. He scrunched his brows at me in question. I pulled out the newspaper from my bag. “Oh, yeah”, he said. “I do freelance stuff mostly; but I have a position at a newspaper downtown. Used to write for The Globe”. “New York?”, I asked. “So, why move to San Francisco?”. He shrugged. “I lost the position for… being what I am. An honest reporter”.

I half smiled. “So, a new life”. “Yeah, and a girl”, he admitted. “My fiancée”. My heart dropped; and I did my best not to show it on my face. “Oh! You’re engaged? That’s great!”. “Not really”, chuckled. “I messed that up too… by being what I am”. “An honest reporter…”, I muttered. “And at times a little too cutthroat about it”. He sighed. “It’s good though. She’s good. I’m good. We’re good”.

I narrowed my eyes at him. “Why am I telling you all this stuff?”, he said and laughed. “Are you sure you’renot a reporter?”. “Nah. I’m just an elementary schoolteacher”, I said. “I do write, though. But not articles”. “What?”, he said earnestly. I shook my head. “Another time. I’m sure you have somewhere to be”. He looked at his watch. “Shit, yeah!”, he said. “Sorry, I gotta run”. “It’s fine. Thanks again”.

He nodded and smiled. “You take care, teach’”, he said. “See you around”. He walked away; scratching his head, and looking back at me a couple of times. I took my time enjoying my donut and coffee; and walked in the opposite direction. Eddie – Be still my beating heart.

---

I spent the rest of the morning trying to map out the best way to and from work. As I was starting the next Monday morning, the nerves were getting to me. They’re just 5-yearolds, I kept telling myself. 5-yearolds attending a private school funded by their very rich parents; and some pretty serious sponsors from Silicon Valley. And me without my degree from MIT…

I stopped at Mrs. Chens for some light groceries. Although I’d loved Don’s donuts – and his coffee had been heavenly – I was to anxious to see myself making my way all the way to the Mission District the next day; and I always needed caffeine and access to some kind of breakfast in the morning. The lady behind the counter – Chen, I assumed – seemed nice, though a bit standoffish; and quickly checked out my coffee, bacon, eggs, cheese; and other essentials. “You’re new here”, she said. “How did you know?”, I asked. “I usually only get regulars”, she answered, and narrowed her eyes at me. “I moved in down the street. My neighbor recommended your shop”, I smiled. “Who?”, she demanded. “Eddie…”, I answered timidly. Her face instantly became warmer. “He’s a good boy”, she said. “Tell him to pic up my cousins latest cd. It’ll do him good. As well as his parasite”. That parasite thing again. Weird. I thanked her, grabbed my stuff; and left the store.

I made my way back to the apartment; cranked up the Fleetwood, and danced it out for a while. I’d always done that; when I needed to get something out of my system. It was better than drinking myself into oblivion – and I was out of whiskey.

I was completely oblivious to anything around me, when I heard someone clear their throat. I turned around, arms in the air; and almost died from embarrassment. The door was open; and in the opening stood Eddie.

“Sorry, it was open”, he said; trying to stifle a smile. “Ziggy had a crazy ex kick it down once. It’s always needed an extra push and pull to close properly, since then”. I nodded, blushing. He held up a carton of eggs. “Chen said you forgot this”, he said. “Thanks…”, I said, taking the pack from him. I grimaced. “So… this is embarrassing”. He laughed. “What? The eggs, or the dancing?”, he chuckled. “Ha, ha. Laugh it out”, I said, stifling a smile. “I was enjoying the view”, he said; and glint to his eyes – before grimacing himself. “Sorry… that was… probably crossing a line”. “It’s fine… you’re fine…”, I said; realizing what I’d just said. “Good, I mean. Shit… I do this to clear my head, sometimes. Dance. It relaxes me”.

He laughed. “I just got back from… a thing”, he said. “I need to clear my head a bit as well. Was gonna take a ride up to Coit Tower”. I smiled; my blushing beginning to fade. “That sounds nice”, I smiled. He exhaled. “Yeah… do you wanna come?”. My jaw dropped. “Uh… yeah. Sure. I’d like that”, I said. What the hell, Eddie? Are you asking me out? “Great”, he smiled. “I was gonna take my bike; are you good with that?”. “I don’t have a bike”, I said. He chuckled. “Not that kind of bike”. Right. The motorcycle helmet. “And now I feel like an idiot”, I muttered. “Don’t worry about it. I’ve met the biggest idiots in media, politics and sports; and you look nothing like them”, he said. “You do look like someone who needs to get out of this place for a while”. I smiled; grabbed my jacket; and followed him out the door – making sure it was properly shut behind me.

Eddie grabbed two helmets from his apartment; giving me another chance peak into his place. It smelled nice. Like tater tots and musky cologne. I didn’t know why, but suddenly it was my favorite smell. “Let’s go”, Eddie said; handing me one of the helmets; and we made our way down the stairs.

Outside the building stood a motorcycle. It was clearly well cared for. Eddie got on it, and put on his helmet; gesturing for me to get on behind him. “You should hold on”, he said. I searched for something to grab; and he took my wrists; pulling my arms around his waist. Wow. Ok. Firm. “You good?”, he asked. “Yeah”, I squeaked. He chuckled behind his helmet. “Sit tight, teach’”. He started the bike, and revved the engine; before taking off. “Oh my God”, I yelped; feeling his body shake in laughter in front of me.

I was convinced he took the steepest roads; scaring the shit out of me for the first few miles – before I finally got comfortable behind him. I relaxed my body; and let myself enjoy the view of the city in the dusk – and how close I was to Eddies warm body. I felt his calm breathing; and matched it – soon feeling completely relaxed. We hit a bump, making the bike jump a bit; and I laughed in glee; hearing him laugh along with me.

The drive was over way to soon for my liking. We’d made our way up Telegraph hill; and I got off the bike, taking of my helmet. “You liked that, huh?”, Eddie grinned at me. “Yeah, it was fun!”, I smiled. He looked at me; almost in wonder. “Was that your first time on a bike?”. “I tried it once, for like five minutes; when I was a kid, but kind of. Yeah”, I admitted. “I couldn’t tell”, he smirked sarcastically. I frowned in mock annoyance. “Shut up”, I said. “You’ve never had a better passenger”. He laughed. “Yeah… come on”.

The sun was going down; and we were too late for tickets to get up the tower; but Eddie seemed unfazed. “There’s a good view over here”, he said; putting his hand on my lower back, to lead me over to a railing. “You gonna push me over this thing?”, I joked. “Nah, would be a poor move for a first date”, he said. I looked at him. “This is a date?”, I smiled. He seemed to have an internal dialogue. “I… don’t know”, he said. “Do you want it to be?” I bit my lip. “Let’s see how good this view is; and I’ll let you know”.

The view was stunning. I could see both the lights of the city as well as the Golden Gate bridge. My jaw dropped at the sight. “Wow…”. Eddie looked at me. “Yeah, it’s pretty special”, he said.

I stepped towards the binoculars; searing my pockets for change. “I don’t have a quarter!”, I heard Eddie whisper. “It’s fine”, I smiled at him. “I can see pretty clear anyway”. He looked me, caught off guard. “Yeah. Sorry…”. I leant against the railing. “I could fall in love with this city”, I proclaimed. Eddie smiled warmly at me, walking up next to me – close enough for me to feel the heat radiating from his body.

We looked at the views for a while, talking about this and that. I told Eddie about my hometown, and how I’d loved it as well. “So, why did you decide to come here”. “It’s a long story”, I muttered. “Come on, I’ve already seen you dance!”, he chuckled. “You don’t like my dancing?”, I gasped in jest. He smiled. “You really put the oogie in the boogie”, he said. “You’re the most graceful elephant in a porcelain shop, I’ve ever seen”. “So now I’m an elephant?”, I raised a brow at him. He grimaced. “I walked right in to that”, he muttered. “Sorry…”. I smiled at him in forgiveness. “Seriously though. Why’d you make the move?”

I couldn’t help myself. I had to mess with him. “It’s embarrassing”, I said. He smiled encouragingly. “Ever since I was a kid… I’ve always wanted to act. Be in the big movies”. His lips parted, and he looked really uncomfortable. I continued. “So… I decided to give it a shot. Come here; and be near Hollywood, you know?”. I smiled earnestly. “I think I’ve finally got a shot; now that the studios are just down the street”. Eddie looked genuinely sorry for me. “Lyla… I don’t…”, he began. “Eddie…”, I smiled. “I’m kidding”. He exhaled in relief. “Thank God. I really didn’t want to be the one to tell you… You know?”. “I know”, I smirked. “’Cuz we’re a way off from Hollywood here”. I nodded. “About 400 miles. I realize that”. He began laughing, and shook his head. “Is this payback for the elephant thing?”, he said. I shrugged. “Maybe”, I smiled.

He bumped my shoulder with his own. “You’re bad news, darlin’!”, he laughed. “You’re not, though”, I answered. “Tell me; why did your article on those home robberies end up in a free newspaper, instead of some big ass media outlet?”. He sighed. “Not everyone wants to run the hard stories”, he said. “As long as it gets out there…”. I nodded. “I get it”, I said. “Besides, in a free paper the story will get a broader audience, right?”. He shrugged. “I hope so”, he said. “I think it’s an important story”. “Me too”, I agreed.

I told Eddie about my new job. “Private school?”, he grimaced. I laughed. “Yeah, I know”, I said. “Not very socially conscious of me. But the pay is good. And I needed a change”. “What made you move here? The truth this time”, he smiled. “It’s got to be more than the job. You don’t strike me as someone who does things just for money”. I chewed my lip. “I wasn’t in a very good place in my job, or my life”, I admitted.

He looked at me with warm eyes – the color even more indistinguishable in the dusk. I bit my lip; wanting desperately for something to happen. “How’s your head? A bit clearer?”, he said quietly. “Not really…”, I admitted. He let out a quiet laugh, and wrinkled his forehead. “Yeah, me neither”, he muttered. “Can I kiss you? I just feel like I should, you know...?”. I interrupted him by taking his hand. “Yes…”. He nodded and sighed in relief. “Ok. Then… I’m going to do that. Now”. I chuckled; and laced my fingers with his. He stepped closer; putting a lock of my hair behind my ear; before placing his hand on my cheek; letting his thumb stroke my cheekbone. “I like your eyes…”, he said. “Stop talking, Eddie”, I smiled. “Ok”, he said; and finally let his full lips meet mine.

It was soft. Gentle. I parted my lips; letting the tip of my tongue meet his. He wrapped his arm around my waist, and pulled me close; and I slid my hands around his neck – letting my fingertips play with the hair there. He pulled his head back a bit; letting our foreheads meet. “You’re… something else”, he smiled. “Something good, I hope”, I answered. “Yeah”, he breathed. “Can I… just… one more time?”, he muttered; before pressing his lips to mine again. I chuckled against his kiss; and returned his enthusiasm. This time there was a bit more heat to our connection. He held on to me; making me stand flush against him. I felt a rush of blood to my core; and my breath hitched.

Someone cleared their throat. Our lips parted, and we saw that we we’re being watched by an elderly couple. “You kids should take that somewhere else”, one of the men said. I flushed red, and Eddie took my hand. “Yeah. Let’s… go”, he smiled.

---

Once back at our building, Eddie gave me a hand to get off his bike. We walked up the stairs together, and paused in front of our doors.

“Thanks for this”, I said. “I needed a distraction”. “I’m a distraction now?”, Eddie asked with a smirk. “A good one”, I chuckled. He ran a hand through his hair, and sighed. “Thanks for the… kissing part. I liked that”, he said. “I did too”, I said, before chewing my bottom lip for a moment. “We could do it again… If you want to”. Eddie looked relieved. “I really do”, he smiled, and took a step closer to me. I met him halfway, and leaned in to him, as he cupped my cheek, and our lips met. He took my bottom lip between his own; softly tugging it – and the repeated the process with the top one. My tongue brushed against his lips, and he met it with his own; letting them reacquaint themselves with each other.

Eddie put his arm around me, and I shivered in pleasure, as our hips met; and I felt his body’s very obvious reaction to our kiss. He let out a soft groan; a sound that sent electricity straight to my core. Grabbing on tighter to me, he almost had my knees give in. In spite of his normally withdrawn and almost aloof demeanor – which he’d relaxed somewhat, curing our evening together – he now seemed like he couldn’t get me close enough; almost hungry in his kiss. I was right there with him; ready to throw all inhibitions out the window, and let him take me in that hallway. I literally had to dig my nails in to my palm, to tear myself from the heated moment.

I put my hands on Eddie’s shoulders, and pushed him away as gently as I could. “I’m sorry… Did I hurt you?”, he asked, in a surprisingly concerned voice. “No, Eddie; I’m…”, I tried. “I don’t always know my own strength. I’ll be more careful…”. Eddie seemed unable to stop talking. I put my fingertips to his soft lips – for a short second considering slipping one into his mouth; just to feel him suck on it – and took a step back. “Eddie, you didn’t do anything wrong. Really!”, I smiled. “But, I have this rule… I don’t have sex on the first date”. Eddie’s eyes widened, and he took a step back himself. “No… Of course! I don’t want you to think, I see you as some kind of… I mean, if you were, there would be nothing wrong with that… People can enjoy sex, that’s completely normal… But I would never expect you to just…” I couldn’t help but smile at his flustered babbling, but in the end, I decided to put him out of his misery. I leaned in, and gave him a short kiss on the cheek. “Goodnight”, I said. “Yeah… goodnight, Lyla”, Eddie said. He watched me as I unlocked my door, and I gave him a final smile, before stepping inside, and closing it behind me.

I leaned against the wall, and sighed frustratedly. It felt like everything below my bellybutton was literally screaming at my brain, saying; open the door, and stop thinking so much, you stupid blob of fat and water! I want to play!. I peeked out of the peephole, and saw Eddie beginning to fish out his keys. He looked like he was having a frustrated conversation with himself. He turned and looked at my door, and I quickly pulled back from the peephole. “You’re being an idiot”, I whispered to myself.

Before I knew it had happened, I had opened my door. “Eddie…”. He dropped his keys in chock, and scrambled to pick them up. His jacket and shirt rode up slightly, letting me get a peek at his tattooed torso; only making my resolve stronger. “Yeah! Hey… Hi”, he said, and got up to stand again. “You know, when I said I’d let you know whether it was a date or not…”. “Yeah?”, Eddie muttered. I chewed my lip, and took a deep breath before continuing. “I decided it wasn’t a date… So, technically, I wouldn’t be breaking my rule”. Eddie looked confused for a moment, before his eyes lit up. “Oh… Oh! You mean…”. He seemed unable to finish the sentence; and I felt my cheeks beginning to burn. “I mean, unless you changed your mind”, I muttered. “No!”, Eddie said, taking a step towards me. “I’d like that”.

I let out a pleased sigh, and was even more relieved when Eddie decided to take the lead, and step over to me; instantly capturing my lips in a warm kiss. I put my arms around his neck, and let myself float away in the pleasurable sensations his soft, full lips sent through my body. I’d known this man for less than a week – I could hardly say that I knew him at all – but everything in that moment was perfect; as if we were made to do this. Eddie pressed me against the doorway to my apartment, and let out a guttural groan when I ran my nails through his short hair. He pressed his tongue into my mouth, and once again I relished in his taste.

I looked out the corner of my eye at the main living area of my sublet, and frowned. I pulled back slightly, to be able to speak. Eddie moved his kisses down to my neck, and I gasped audibly. “Eddie… Oh, god. That’s… No, stop!”, I rasped. He pulled back instantly, and met my eyes. “What?”, he asked. “The bed in there is kind of gnarly… Can we do this at your place?”, I said. “Yeah, of course”, he smiled, and tore himself from me, to run over and open his own door. I closed the door to my own place – giving it that extra yank it needed – and stepped up behind Eddie. He looked at me over his shoulder. “Sorry about the mess", he muttered apologetically, and opened his door.

Eddie’s apartment was cluttered, but not dirty. I could have sworn I saw a few unwashed dishes by the sink, but when I blinked, they were gone; as if a shadow had whisked them away. He had post-it notes hanging with ideas for stories, and a couple that read things like If you eat it, replace it and Pigeons are not food. “Do you have a roommate?”, I asked. Eddie chuckled nervously to himself. “Nah, I… forget things”, he said, and tore down a note reading No roadkill in the tub!.

I decided against asking, and simply made my way over to the couch, letting my finger run along the back of it. “Do you want some coffee? Or a beer?”, Eddie asked, and moved towards the fridge. I bit my lip, and shook my head. “Maybe… after?”, I said, trying for seductive; and failing miserably, when I tripped over a stack of papers on the floor. Before I knew what happened, Eddie was next to me; catching me before I hit the floor. “Wow… you’re fast!”, I said. “I… did track in high school”, he said. “You were all the way over…”, I began.

Eddie pressed his lips to mine, to shut me up, and soon I was forgetting all about the ten feet he’d traversed in less than a second. As quickly as I could, I shed my jacket, and Eddie’s lips once again travelled down my neck. I pushed his jacket off his shoulders, and couldn’t help put squeeze his biceps; finding them as firm as I’d imagined. As Eddie latched on to my pulse-point, I let out soft moan; and was rewarded with his hands moving down to my butt. Giving them a tight squeeze, he suddenly lifted me up, and made me put my legs around his waist. “Let’s move over here”, he muttered, and walked us over to the bed in the corner; gently setting me down on it.

We both began tugging at each other’s tops at the same time, but after chuckling at each other; we silently decided to take care of our own clothing. After I’d shed my tank-top, I kicked off my sneakers while Eddie took off his boots. We kept eye-contact as much as possible, and I saw nothing but appreciation in his gaze, as he saw me get more and more undressed. I was enjoying the sight of his bare torso as well; wanting nothing more than to bury my face in the soft hairs of his barreled chest. I pulled off my jeans – leaving me in socks, bra and panties – and moved back on the bed. Eddie raised a brow at me, and shook his head; and once he had gotten rid of his own pants, he grabbed my ankle, and pulled me closer. I yelped in glee as my groin met his, and he pushed me to lie back. I managed to reach down, and hook my finger into the waistband of his boxer briefs; but Eddie grabbed my wrist. “We got all night…”, he said. “But…”, I said. “Relax”.

He smirked mischievously, and kneeled down at the foot of the bed, and ran his palms up my thighs; leaving goosebumps in their wake. As he left a soft kiss on the inside of my left thigh, while his fingertips stroked circles on my right one. My breath hitched, as his warm breath travelled up to my warmth. I was ready to scream by the time his soft lips left an openmouthed kiss on my covered folds. “Please…!”, I whined. Eddie chuckled, and I felt his tongue lick a broad stripe against the lace covering my throbbing, most sensitive parts. Once again, I tried to take charge, by grabbing his head; but he grabbed my wrists, and forced them down my sides. “I really don’t want to have to hold you down”, he chided. “I kind of need my hands for what I’m about to do…”. I let out a frustrated groan, and relaxed my arms as much as I could. “Good girl…”, Eddie hummed, and let go of my hands. I threw my arms back, and grabbed for one of the pillows above my head, and dug my fingers in to it, to keep from getting in the way of Eddie’s work on my privates again.

With agonizingly slow movements, Eddie hooked his fingers into my panties, and pulled them down my feet. He held them up with one finger, and gave me another smirk, before flicking them away. They landed over his open laptop, and we both laughed for a moment; before Eddie once again lowered his face. The last thing I saw before throwing my head back in pleasure, was Eddie’s pleased eyes widening at his upcoming feast. His perfect mouth closed around my folds and clit, and he gave me a deep suckle, before flicking his tongue over my clit. “I know…”, he muttered. “Come again?”, I croaked. “I’m just enjoying my meal”, Eddie replied, blushing adorably. “Ok… Uhm… well, contin… Oh my god!”. Eddie had entered me with two fingers, and began moving them in a come-hither motion, while sucking hard at my nub. Letting out a growl against my wetness, Eddie soon had me seeing stars. As his fingers worked on my most sensitive spot inside, his tongue moved in a zigzag pattern between my folds; going up and down, and never forgetting to give my clit a languid stroke when he reached it. I put the pillow over my face, and cried out in pleasure, as Eddie worked me towards a mind shattering orgasm. Everything went white, and I’m pretty sure I floated above the mattress for a few seconds; as if something was lifting me in the air.

I was panting into the pillow and shaking all over, as I came down. “Don’t do that!”, Eddie grunted. “What?”, I muttered through the pillow. Eddie climbed up my body, and pulled it away from my face, looking flustered. “Just… don’t cover your face. I want to see you”, he said. “Ok…”, I said.

We smiled at each other, and kissed again. I could taste myself on his tongue, and enjoyed it more than was proper. Eddie laid down between my legs, and pressed against me; making me leave a wet spot on his boxers, from my still glistening folds. “Let me just get these off”, he smiled, and pulled down his underwear; and letting his erection spring free. I smiled in appreciation, and took a hold of my new friend; gently beginning to stroke it. “That’s… that’s nice”, Eddie said, straining to keep his composure. “A bit harder, please”. I tightened my hold, and received a deep moan in reply. “Condom?”, I asked. “Shit, yeah”, Eddie said, and reluctantly pulled himself out of my grasp. As he got off the bed, and ran over to search one of the drawers in his dresser, I snapped open my bra, and took it off. When he turned around to face me, with a foil packet in his hand, his jaw dropped at the sight of my mounds. “That is… Those are very nice”, he croaked. I chuckled, and pulled off my socks; wanting to be completely naked. “Oh, right!”, Eddie said, and tugged his own socks off, one at a time; losing his balance, and falling on to the bed next to me.

I nabbed the foil packet from his hand, and opened it carefully, pulling out the condom. Straddling Eddies legs, I closed my fingers around the tip of the rubber, and held it to the head of his penis. I rolled it down a little, before lowering my head, and closing my mouth around it; rolling it the rest of the way with my lips. Eddie let out a gasping groan, and looked down at me with wide eyes. Once the condom was all the way down his hardness, I released him from my mouth, and sat up; smiling sweetly. “Where did you learn that?”, he asked. “While you were doing track in high school, I was under the bleachers; doing other kinds of workout”, I shrugged. “It’s an interesting talent”, he chuckled. “I have many more”, I said, raising a brow at him. “I’m sure you do”, Eddie smiled, and grabbed the back of my head; pulling me in for a hungry kiss.

I was flipped onto my back, and Eddie placed himself at my entrance. “Yeah?”, he said, searching my eyes for the go-ahead. “Please”, I said, unable to hide the pleading tone in my voice. Eddie gave me one more deep kiss, and as he did, he pushed himself inside me; bottoming out in my warmth. We both moaned deeply as we were conjoined, and Eddie began moving slowly in and out of me. “You’re so warm… and tight!”, he gasped into my ear. “You fit perfectly”, I panted, and moved my hips to meet his every thrust. “I do, don’t I…”, Eddie chuckled. “Holy… wow”. I locked my leg around his hips, and Eddie grabbed my other leg; hooking his arm under my knee. With ever thrust, the head of his penis brushed against my g-spot; but even just the friction against my nub, and the feeling of his velvety hardness brushing against my walls, were enough to make me whimper in pleasure.

After a while of moving together slowly, I felt my walls beginning to quake; and Eddie’s face lit up. He began thrusting faster and harder, and soon I was crying out in ecstasy again. Every atom in my being felt like it was exploding, and I came around him. “Yes!”, I cried out, and Eddie laughed, seemingly overjoyed that he could make me feel this way. “Fuck, you look beautiful when you come”, he grinned. My hair was a tussled, and I was pretty sure my makeup was a mess, but I took his words as truth in that moment; convinced from the expression on his face, that there was no way he could be lying. “Thank you… for that”, I gasped. “And for the orgasm. That was pretty awesome too”. We laughed together for a moment, before Eddie leaned down, and kissed me. “Are you good to continue?”, he asked. “Don’t you dare stop!”, I exclaimed. “Ok… Turn around, then”.

He pulled out of me – leaving me feeling empty and wanting more – and grabbed my hip, to make me turn over. I got on all fours, and once again felt Eddie probing my entrance. He pushed into me with a pleased sigh, and began moving again. He shifted between fast and slow; as if every time he picked up speed, he willed himself to slow down again. “It’s ok. I can take it”, I said. “Alright”, Eddie panted, and let out a groan, as he slammed in to me. I feel forwards on the bed, landing on my chest; and felt my backside lift with every one of Eddie’s thrusts in to me. “… just go to sleep!”, I heard Eddie behind me. “I’m not…”, I said. “What?”. “I’m not asleep. How could I be?” “Oh… No, yeah; of course!”.

He snaked a hand underneath me, and expertly began stroking circles against my clit. I was soon, once again, feeling the familiar rush of an impending orgasm. “I’m gonna…”, I rasped. “Again?”, Eddie panted; still thrusting in to me, and having found the perfect rhythm for the both of us. “Uh huh…”, I whimpered, and turned my face into the mattress; crying out in pleasure. My walls contracted around Eddie’s hardness, and moments later, he let out a rasping groan; and came.

I was trying to regain my breath, and still feeling my muscles clenching throughout my body; as Eddie pulled out of me. He placed a soft kiss to the back of my neck, and got off the bed, to rid himself of the condom. I pulled at the sheet, wrapping it around me, as he returned to the bed and slipped his boxers back on. He looked satisfied, but also a bit frustrated, and I quietly excused myself to the bathroom, to clean up.

Through the door, I heard him shuffling around the small apartment, and seemingly talking to himself. “… stay out of it… was a me thing… I don’t need that”. I was beginning to feel a bit uncomfortable at the situation; and must have been stood for quite a while in the small bathroom, because suddenly there was a knock on the door. “Are you ok in there?”, Eddie called out. “Yeah!”, I replied, quickly finishing my cleanup, and washing my hands. I stepped out into the living area again, and gave him a half smile. “Uhm… are youok though?”. Eddie leaned in, and gave me a soft kiss on the cheek, before stepping over to the fridge. “Of course… I’m awesome”, he said, and got out two beers. “That was great!”. I examined his face, and couldn’t help but frown. “Ok… You just seem a little out of it”, I said, and accepted the drink. “Are you regretting…”. “No!”, Eddie exclaimed, his eyes wide and earnest. “Not at all… I just get in my head sometimes”. “Ok…”, I muttered.

Eddie sighed deeply, and took my hand. “Come on”, he said, and pulled me over to sit on the couch. “That… what we just did; that was really great. You were great”. “So were you”, I smiled, biting my lip. “Yeah?”, Eddie said; a slight pink hue to his cheeks. “Thanks…”. As I took a welcome sip of my beer, he merged his fingers with my free hand. “I’d like to do it again… If you’re good with that”. “I’d like that”, I said. We sat for a moment in silence. “Do you wanna stay the night?”. “I should get going”. We’d spoken at the same time. “Oh… Well, if you wanna go…”, Eddie said. “I just thought – seeing as you said the bed at your place wasn’t that great – maybe you’d want to sleep somewhere else”. “The couch isn’t much better”, I chuckled. “Are you sure though? I don’t want you to think you have to…”. “I’d like you to stay”, Eddie said. I felt my cheeks burn. “Ok… I’ll stay”, I said.

Eddie lit up in a grin, and leaned in to give me a warm kiss. “I’m happy you moved in across the hall”, he said. “Me too”, I smiled. “Me three…! Too!”, Eddie said, his voice having shifted from deep, and back to his raspy tone within seconds. He cleared his throat. “Sorry… My throat is a bit dry”, he said, and took a deep swig of his beer. I frowned in confusion, but decided to let it go. We had just spent a good while exercising, and my own throat was a little dry as well; and I took another sip of my beer.

We sat for a long moment in silence, sipping at our bottles, and smiling warmly at each other; before Eddie frowned deeply. “I have to tell you something”, he said. “And… You might change your mind about staying”. I felt a shudder go through my body, suddenly worried where this was going. “What is it?”, I croaked. Eddie took a deep breath, and blew it out. He took my beer from me, and put it down on the coffee table, next to his own. Taking both my hands, he looked deeply in to my eyes. “Here goes… Uhm… Wow, this is hard”, he said. “Just tell me”, I said, trying for calm and encouraging. “Ok… I snore… And not in the cute way”, Eddie said. “I give the streetcars a run for their money, when it comes to noise”. I instantly began laughing in relief. “That’s it? You should hear me!”. Eddie raised his brows at me. “I’ll bet you 20 bucks and a donut from Don’s, I can outdo you”, he said. “You’re a journalist. Don’t you have a Dictaphone?”, I asked. Eddie sprang over to his messenger bag, and pulled out a small recorder. “Let’s do this!”, he exclaimed.

I got to my feet, and followed him over to the bed. Unwrapping myself from the sheet, Eddie gave me a sly smile, and pulled me in for a deep kiss – running his hands up and down my sides – before he let me crawl onto the bed. Once I laid down, he crawled in next to me, and put the sheet over the both of us. He clicked the record button on the Dictaphone, and put it by the bed: before pulling me in to his arms. I cuddled up against him, and let his warmth lull me; feeling suddenly very tired. “Goodnight, Ed”, I whispered. We gave each other a soft kiss. “Goodnight, Lyla”, he replied.

I was already halfway asleep, when something tucked us in; pulling the covers over us. “Eddie?”, I yawned. “Yeah?”, he asked hesitantly. “Was that you?”. “Yes!”. “Ok. Goodnight”. I was out.

---

#eddie brock #eddie brock fic #venom #venom fic #eddie brock x oc #eddie brock fluff #eddie brock smut

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heartcal · 4 years ago

Text

distant; c.h.

it’s finally here omg and being posted on time too (barely)!

this was an idea i started writing back in late 2015 (literally the first few paragraphs are from the old draft with some editing) and while cleaning up my drafts i decided to continue it since i liked it :^D

pairing: calum hood x reader (i tried to make it gender neutral so if i used pronouns while describing the reader, i apologize and feel free to let me know!)

summary: you feel like the relationship is deteriorating because he’s gotten distant. you want to bring it up with him, but how can you when he doesn’t realize something is wrong? and why does it invoke a hurtful argument when you voice your feelings?

warnings: none really other than some cursing, arguing, and cal’s kinda an ass sorry lol

genre: angst, very angtsy

wc: 2,645

my masterlist!

The candle flickered on the coffee table as the sound of rain hitting the roof was prominent. Total silence engulfed you as you finally made up your mind. Your thoughts were running wild for at least the past two hours as you went through numerous scenarios on how he’d react.

Calum had been acting different ever since he came home from tour. It felt like he was distancing himself from you as he began to hang out with his friends right as he got the time off. He already planned visits to his family, which were coming up very soon. He would text you, but they’d only be a couple of words or no more than four sentences a day. At first, you believed it was because he was tired from tour, and honestly who wouldn’t be tired if they had been on a tour bus and planes for almost a year with minimal breaks?

You understood his profession and what comes along with it, you really do.

But when you saw fan pictures or paparazzi pictures of your boyfriend having a hell of a time, obviously without you, it hurt.

You’re not clingy at all; you want him to have a lot of fun considering his age and, due to his fame, he can’t do a lot of the stuff you and other non-famous people can do. You’re not clingy at all, but you would appreciate some one-on-one time with him, especially now that he’s back from tour and soon would be promoting yet another album.

You took a few deep breaths to calm yourself down and bring forth your final thoughts on the situation. A break-up is the last thing you want to do. You want to work out whatever is happening between you two, talk it out, and straighten out any knots within the relationship. You don’t want to throw away the past two and a half years, and possibly the five years of friendship.

When you two got together it didn’t come as a surprise to those close to you. The guys were waiting for it to happen, and when it did they didn’t even bat an eye. Your family already thought the two of you were dating, while Calum’s family let out a sigh of relief when the news came out because they saw how happy you made him as a friend.

It started as a test; to see if this is what you want and if it feels right. It did, more than it should if you had to be honest. It almost scared you just how normal it felt to be with him, and the same can be said for him. You had minimal arguments, minimal disagreements; the good outweighed the bad.

But the honeymoon phase can only last so long.

The first time he went on tour when you got together, it was a promotional tour. He wasn’t gone for a long time but he did travel often. That left little to no time to talk, text, or facetime. When he was able to contact you, it was short, but he managed to make it worth it with sweet words and words of encouragement from you.

The second time was a domestic promotional tour. He had asked you to join him, and after getting the OK to work remotely from your boss, you agreed to join him. It was almost like a vacation for you, even if Calum was gone most of the day. On his days off, or when he had part of the day off, it was spent with you alone or with the guys plus you and their significant others.

The third tour was when things started to dwindle. Six months after their third album was released, they went on tour and contact was hard to get. You joined him for a month or two, but after leaving to get back to work, it began to feel like the first time he went on tour. Towards the end of the tour he frequently contacted you, stating that he was, “stressed from the constant traveling,” and he had a hard time keeping up with what day it was.

You didn’t think about it much. Touring like that can strain anyone, amateur or pro. But what you couldn’t understand was how he behaved after the tour. After the first two tours, it was fine, but after tour number three you noticed how distant he would get. Ignoring calls and texts, but updating social media at any time of day and night. It struck you as odd, but he eventually came around with an apology and lots of makeup dates.

Now after tour number four, he’s as distant as ever. You gave him some space but he never came around. It’s been two and a half weeks since you’ve had proper contact.

Running over what you want to say to him in your head, you miss the knocks on your front door. You also miss the sound of your lock turning and the door opening.

“There you are,” You jump at that, turning towards the front door with a hand on your heart.

“What—how did you get in?” You stumble, gone are the thoughts you had previously.

Calum holds his right hand up, his set of keys and key chains jingling as he shakes his hand lightly. He has a small smile on as he speaks, “You gave me a copy, remember?”

You stare blankly at him, recalling the time when you finally moved out of the apartment you shared with an old friend and their partner. You were so happy that you found a place to live on your own, closer to work and closer to Calum. You made him a copy so that he knew he was welcome (and also for safety reasons).

You nod with a hum in response, your eyes moving to the painting a few feet away from him.

If he notices your behavior, he doesn’t mention it as he puts his keys on the hook next to your while taking off his shoes (something you nagged him about since the living room had carpeting).

You knew you had to bring it up. It was sitting on your tongue but your brain couldn’t form the words and sentences that you had previously thought of.

He sighs out as he takes a seat next to you on your couch, his right arm stretched behind you on the back of the couch while his left arm rested on the arm.

You sat stiff, not leaning back or into him no matter how much you craved it. Rather than giving in, you were more focused on the anger starting to bubble up inside of you. How can he act like nothing is wrong after ignoring you for almost three weeks?

“You’re quiet tonight,” he retracts his arm from the back of the couch and moves his hand to your forehead, “You feeling okay?”

When he brings his other hand up to his own forehead, you smack his arm away.

You scoff, letting your anger show, “Really, Calum?”

His puzzled look pushes you over and you stand up.

“What?” He asks as his eyes follow you as you head to the window.

Taking a deep breath and staring out at the city below, you realize that it’s now or never. Releasing the breath as a sigh, you turn towards him.

“Is something wrong?” He questions again.

“I know that tour takes a lot out of you,” you begin, willing yourself to bring your eyes up to meet his, “but you’ve been distant—more than usual. I know you want some time to yourself after touring, and I give you the time, but I can’t help but feel ignored Calum.”

Calum stands with a frown, bringing his hands up to his head before running them down his face with a sigh. His mouth opens to say something but nothing comes out. He stands in front of his seat on the couch, hands on his hips and shoulders slumped. He wants to say something, wants to tell you that he’s not ignoring you, but he can’t bring himself to say so.

“I’ve seen the pictures of you out with your friends. I’m happy you’re spending time with them, that you’re out there having fun because I know you haven’t seen them in so long. And your family, too. But I would like to spend time with you before you head out again.”

“I spent a lot of time with you before I left,” he mumbles, taking a few steps towards you.

“I know-” you hold your hand up to stop him from getting closer, “but you also spent plenty of time with your friends.”

He takes another step towards you, ignoring your signal. His body language shows that he doesn’t want to argue; his steps are small, head tilted only slightly, his eyes are staring intently at you.

It’s silent. Your breathing picks up as you hold back frustrated tears, which causes Calum’s own breathing to falter. He moves his jaw to help ease the tension he feels – a tick you know he picked up from a tour crew member – and shakes his hands as if he was trying to rid them of something.

He inhales, eyes on the floor at his feet, “I feel like we spend too much time together.”

Ouch. His words had a sharp impact, like a punch to the gut when you least expect it. The kind of heart-dropping, breathless pain.

“You think—do you think I’m clingy?” The word leaves a bad taste in your mouth because you felt that you were far from it.

“That’s not what I said—,” he stops, taking in his lower lip with a hand ruffling the hair on his head, “—that’s not what I’m saying at all.”

“But that’s what you’re implying,” you accuse with narrow eyes.

He shakes his head, growing upset with how this night is turning out. He came over to spend time with you, knowing that when comes back from visiting his family he will have only a couple more days of rest before putting all his focus on the new album.

“Look,” he sighs and sits on the edge of the couch with his head in his hands, “all I’m saying is, I wanted to spend some time with my friends since I don’t see them as often as I see you.”

Your jaw tightens, “I understand that, but what about our relationship?”

“What about it?”

“It doesn’t feel like a relationship anymore,” you’re blunt, straight to point out how you feel.

He scoffs, “Cut the bullshit.”

Your speechless, watching him stand up and walk to the other side of the living room. The rain outside has gotten louder with an occasional rumble in the distance, but you’re focused on how he brushed off how you felt like it wasn’t important.

“Just because I don’t spend all my time with you doesn’t mean we’re not in a relationship,” he says, resting his left arm on the bookshelf against the wall, “I have other relationships to manage besides ours.”

“You barely manage this one, Calum,” a tear threatens to spill over your lower lid, “Two and a half weeks of little to no contact, and you suddenly show up to my apartment as if everything is fine? I sat here wondering if something happened on tour that was making you this distant, but from what I’ve seen on Twitter and Instagram…you’re doing just fine. You’re smiling, you’re laughing—you’re seemingly your usual self. So why did all my texts get left on read, no response at all, especially when I just wanted to know that you were okay?”

He sucks his teeth, a humorless laugh leaving his lips as he turns to look at you, “You’re overreacting.”

Another jab to the heart, and this time you let the tears freely fall down your cheeks.

He stands up straight and licks his lips, eyes dancing around the room. They bounce over photos of you with your friends, family, and him. In the back of his mind, he knows this is too much. He knows his words may be overstepping and hurtful, but he can’t see where you’re coming from.

“I’m entitled to my own life, just like you. I have friends I want to hang out with, just like you. Sometimes I need time to myself away from you. Maybe you were right earlier, maybe you are clingy.”

He watches as your tears fall, the pained expression you wear didn’t go unnoticed but he does choose to overlook it.

He cuts you off when your mouth begins to open, “Maybe another thing you were right about before, this doesn’t feel like a relationship, right?”

He rolls his shoulders, jaw clenched as he walks to the front door. Your eyes are covered with unshed tears, previous tears leaving trails down your cheeks and nose. He sees them, there’s a pounding in his brain that’s trying to take control so he can go over and console you with unlimited apologies. But he doesn’t.

Calum grabs his keys, taking off your key and tossing it to your feet. He slides his shoes on, his movements rough as his breathing gets heavier. His eyes reach yours and those dark brown eyes you grew to love have now become hurtful, clouded by an unrecognizable emotion.

His hand blindly reaches for the lock, turning it before lowering to the handle, “If this relationship doesn’t feel like one, let’s end it, yeah?”

Without another word, he opens the door and leaves. Your eyes shed the built-up tears as they fall towards the spare key on the ground.

You don’t know how it came to this. You had your mind made up of how you wanted the conversation to go, what to do if worst comes to worst and how to repair the relationship itself. You weren’t expecting him to come over. Once he walked through that door all your thoughts evaporated and you were left grasping for any remaining thoughts.

You kneel to pick up the key, but your knees are too weak to stand back up. The key glares at you, reminding you painfully of what once was.

But behind your front door stands Calum, a racing mind and pounding heart. He stares at the floor and it finally dawns on him. Mindlessly he’s ended up outside, the warm air of your apartment lobby did not prepare him for the chilly rain outside. By the time he’s in his car, he’s soaked and he’s uncomfortable.

He doesn’t start the car, instead, he reaches for the steering wheel and grips it tightly. The emotions wash over him and the tears slide down as fast as they formed. He shakily inhales, followed by a sob and a sniffle.

The rain is heavy, muting his sobs to his own ears. A sharp crack of thunder makes him jump, and after a few more sniffles and constant wiping of his cheeks, he starts his car and drives back home.

It’s late when you go to bed. The numbing pain in your chest ruins your chances of a good night’s sleep, but selflessly you wished Calum a goodnight before attempting to sleep.

Calum sleeps on his couch, too tired to bring himself to his bed but too hurt to sleep. His eyes drift to his phone on the coffee table when it vibrates; a message from a groupchat talking about an outing scheduled for tomorrow. His sore eyes shut and he turns away from the table.

In the darkness, he sees your pained expression, the way you shrunk as he threw those harsh words at you. It’s an image that will be imprinted forever in his mind, and he regrets everything.

~~~

part two!

#5sos imagines #5sos blurbs #5sos one shots #5sos drabbles #5 seconds of summer imagines #5 seconds of summer blurbs #5 seconds of summer one shots #5 seconds of summer drabbles #calum hood imagines #calum hood blurbs #calum hood one shots #5sos preferences #5 seconds of summer preferences #5sos imagine #5sos preference #5 seconds of summer imagine #5 seconds of summer preference

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dirtyoatmeall · 4 years ago

Text

Good for you

A/N: Wow sorry I've been gone!! I suddenly got back into reading and suddenly found myself in the middle of multiple series! anywayz, I finally listened to Olivia Rodrigo's new album so here is a songfic for good for u. I ended up going in a completely different direction than I had in mind. It's also long as fuck. I proof scanned it, but it's like 18 pages, as always sorry for the incorrect grammar, I do what I want. Call me Maybe will be getting one soon as well :)

Pairing: ex!Kageyama x reader, foreshadowed Atsumu x reader

Genre: angst? hurt/comfort? Its sad for pretty much most of it.

Word Count: 10.3k (im so sorry)

Warnings: Mentions of alcohol and drinking, implied adult themes, all characters are 21+ !!, detailed breakup. 16+ only por favor

Well, good for you, I guess you moved on really easily. You found a new girl and it only took a couple weeks.

Your phone chimed, alerting you of a new text, you reached for it on the side table, pausing the movie you were watching. It was a message from Shoyo and an image: ‘I’m sorry, I figured it’d be better if I told you instead of finding out on Twitter.’ Your brow pinched, what could that mean? You unlocked your phone to open the text.

The pinch deepens as you zoom in on the picture, eyes beginning to prickle with tears. It was a photo- most likely taken by a fan or paparazzi- of Tobio, your boy-, ex-boyfriend. He was with a woman, she seemed slightly familiar, probably a model or something along those lines. Your face heated and shame burned in your chest, the embrace they were in looked so intimate; private, that it seemed wrong to look. You deleted the image and left Shoyo on read for now; you’d reply when you’re in a better headspace.

It had only been a couple of weeks and he had already moved on, meanwhile, you were just starting to not cry at the little reminders of him scattered about your apartment. He hadn’t even come to get his stuff. You sniffle and walk over to the wall to your left; the picture wall- and gently take one of the photos off, smiling faintly at the memory it brings to the surface.

Remember when you said that you wanted to give me the world?

The sun filtered through the blinds, casting a soft glow around the room. Groaning, you squint at the brightness before rolling over. Your eyes find blue ones, startling you slightly. He chuckles softly, voice deep and gravelly with sleep; sending heat through your body. “you’re so jumpy in the morning.” he whispered in the otherwise empty apartment.

You roll your eyes and let him pull you into his chest, listening to his heartbeat and his fingers traced lazy shapes into your hip. “Shut up, you know it takes me a day or two to adjust after you’ve been gone.”

You meant for the words to be light; not expecting the emotion you heard behind them. He sighs, arm winding tighter around your waist as he kisses the top of your head. You bring your head up to meet his gaze and shift in his arms, frown tugging on your lips. “’m sorry, I didn’t mean to ruin the mood.”

He sighs again, shaking his head softly. “You don’t have to apologize for anything, I should, for never being home, missing holidays and-“ You put a hand against his lips silencing him, brows drawn tightly together.

“You don’t have anything to apologize for either. I knew what I was getting into when we got together, it didn’t bother me in school and it doesn’t bother me now. I’d much rather you live out your dream than being stuck here with me all the time.” You feel his mouth open to object, but your hand stays firm. “I’m serious Tobio, I mean every word.” He nods against your hand and you release him. You flush slightly at the open emotion in his gaze. He pulls you into a kiss, murmuring against your lips. “I don’t know how I got so lucky with you, I promise I’m gonna give you the world.”

And good for you, I guess that you've been workin' on yourself. I guess that therapist I found for you, she really helped

A few days later you meet Shoyo for lunch, a new onigiri place where he apparently knows the owner. He sighs as he sets down his menu, your eyes snapping back your own, pretending like you’ve been mulling it over this whole time. “Alright, go ahead and ask.”

You look up from your menu, feigning innocence. “Hm? Sorry I wasn’t paying attention.” He rolls his eyes and raises an eyebrow. You hold his gaze for a few moments before your shoulders sag in defeat. Your eyes fall to the table as you pick at the corner of the laminated menu. He gives you a minute to collect your thoughts before he places his hand atop yours, a sad smile gracing his features.

“(Y/N), it’s normal to want to know how he’s doing.” You chew your lip and mumble, “Well he’s obviously doing good since he already moved on.”

He continues as if you hadn’t spoken. “He started going to that therapist you recommended a day or so after,” he pauses, trying to gauge where your mind is. You’re meeting his gaze, and he can see you got what he was implying so he continued. “He’s been going consistently; says it’s really helped him.” You nod, blocking out his next words; too busy thinking about how you’re going to find a new therapist.

Now you can be a better man for your brand new girl

As you eat, you think over his words. You swallow and take a deep breath, trying to instil confidence in yourself. “Are they… good together?” Your voice comes out softer than intended and you inwardly cringe. He smiles faintly and nods. “They are.” You nod in understanding and turn your focus back to your meal.

Well, good for you. You look happy and healthy, not me-If you ever cared to ask

You knew it was inevitable, your apartments aren’t that far apart, you just wished it wasn’t so soon.

You were grocery shopping for the week, trying to figure out how many oranges to get before settling on 4 with a sigh, you toss them into your cart, turning around to see blue eyes at the other end.

You inhale sharply, your gazes met and he was too close for you to run away, leaving only one option. You were suddenly glad you met Shoyo for breakfast this morning, you were dressed up a bit, but you weren’t so glad when you became queasy. He opened his mouth to say something, but stopped, letting it fall shut. You feel your face flush with heat and you duck your head, mumbling a soft “sorry!” and move to continue down the aisle, hoping he’d let you go.

Those hopes were crushed with the hand that gently captured your elbow, halting your escape as he turned you to face him. You were silent for a moment before he realized he was still gripping your elbow, dropping his hand to his side. You crossed your arms around your middle, trying to look- be smaller, small enough to get away. Though the rational side of you knew it wouldn’t happen, that you’ve known each other too long to simply stop. So you raised your gaze, uncurling your arms and bringing your shoulders back to at least look the part of an old friend caught by surprise, smiling as you spoke.

“Oh, Kageyama! I didn’t see you there, how are you?” He cringed ever so slightly at the use of his last name, filling you with a sick sense of pride that weighed uncomfortably in your chest. He opened his mouth to speak but was interrupted by a brunette coming up to him, not noticing you as she surveyed the list in her hand.

“Babe, did you find the oranges? Oh, remind me to pick up my birth control at the phar-“ Her eyes widened as she noticed you; cheeks flushing slightly in embarrassment. Unfazed, Kageyama snorted softly, wrapping an arm around her waist before turning back to you. “This is Yumi, babe, this is (Y-) uh, (L/N).” You smiled and waved, which she mirrored, going to speak but instead was interrupted by you, who had decided to spare all of you of the awkwardness of prolonging the conversation. “It’s nice meeting you Yumi, and it was nice seeing you Kageyama, but I gotta run.”

They nodded and waved in farewell as you continued down the aisle, letting out a deep breath before heading into the next aisle. You needed more alcohol.

Good for you. You're doin' great out there without me, baby. God, I wish that I could do that.

You saw them a few more times during your shopping trip. You had wanted to leave right away, but you had been putting off groceries for too long, and leaving your cabinets and fridge almost barren. Thankfully they were always far enough where if you accidentally made eye contact a smile in passing was warranted enough.

As you contemplated between mini pizzas or a large pizza, you heard a loud giggle from further down the aisle. Your head turned towards the noise instinctively and you saw them at the end, near the ice cream, which you hoped they moved soon because that was next on your list. They were laughing, her arms around his waist as she looked up at him, he had an arm around her, resting on her hip as he met her gaze and you felt your chest tighten and an emotion you definitely did not want to name and wanted to shove down, down far enough to forget it. They looked the part of smitten lovers, and you decided you didn’t need ice cream all that bad and grabbed the mini pizzas before heading to checkout, continuing to ignore the emotion swelling, weighing down your chest and moving up to your throat.

I've lost my mind, I've spent the night cryin' on the floor of my bathroom

You took a deep, shuddering breath that broke halfway into a gasping sob. The emotion was suffocating, burning in the back of your throat and pulsing against your skull as you hugged your knees to your chest, the cold press of the tub against your back doing nothing. You tried to take a breath again but your chest was too tight, it was constricting your lungs, pushing hot tears down your cheeks and pulsing harder as with the ringing in your ears.

You could faintly comprehend the door to the bathroom opening, but didn’t look up as someone wrapped their arms around you, pulling you to them; the feel of fabric twisting in your grasp somewhat grounding as they smoothed down your hair, their words muffled under the ringing. You couldn’t think about the tears and who knows what else dampened their shirt, couldn’t think of anything except the emotion weighing so heavy in your chest you were positive it was going to break your ribs, break through you and continue down, down, deep underground.

You have no clue how long you were there with them, not even sure how long before they arrived. They shifted their arms to pick you up, and you let them, not even moving your hands from their place on the shirt, you were sure they were glued there, the tears acting as an adhesive. Sobs still racked your frame as you were set down, tucked under the covers of your bed before the person laid next to you, resuming their soothing touches as the weight in your chest slowly lightened, gradually releasing its grip on your lungs as the ringing quieted, allowing you to hear the slew of soothing words softly coming from the person next to you.

But as the emotion lessened its grip on you, tiredness swiftly replaced it, the pounding at your temples only encouraging the darkness to weigh you down, until it settled over you like a blanket, your fingers laxing enough for them to fall back to your side. Your breathing slowed, the occasional hiccup breaking the silence as you slept.

But you’re so unaffected, I really don’t get it, but I guess good for you

Shoyo let out a deep breath as he gently shut the door to your bedroom behind him, shoulders slumping with exhaustion when he heard the latch click. He dragged a hand down his face, combing his fingers through his hair as he went to your kitchen to finish putting away your groceries, throwing away what was defrosted before collapsing on your couch, pulling out his phone, debating whether or not to text the person likely responsible for your tears. Turns out he didn’t even have to, they had already called him and left a message about an hour ago, a little after Shoyo first got to your apartment. He brought the phone up to his ear as he pressed play.

“Hey, I ran into (Y/N) at the store today, you know I thought you might be right; that our friendship ended with the breakup, but it was like nothing had changed! She even met Yumi though Yumi didn’t notice at first and started talking about her birth control,” a laugh, “I don’t know why you were so worried, she seems perfectly fine. I was thinking about having a little get together in a few weeks, Yumi really wants to meet everyone from Karauno, you both should come! Oh one sec, what? Okay! Sorry, I gotta go, Bye.”

Shoyo slid down the couch slightly, groaning as he pinched the bridge of his nose. Really? He was glad you stocked up on alcohol at the store because after hearing that, he needed a drink.

Well, good for you, I guess you're gettin' everything you want. You bought a new car and your career's really takin' off.

Two weeks later you sat on your couch, eyes focused on the match televised. You tell yourself you’re watching the tournament to see who Shoyo will end up going against; if you can give them any pointers, though a part of you knows it’s a lie.

At the end of the match, the Adlers, no, To- Kageyama, had scored the winning point, securing a spot in the semi-finals. You lifted the remote to change the channel, but you froze as the camera zoomed in on the edge of the court, where you watched Yumi jump into his arms, he threw his head back laughing as he spun her around before kissing her. You could hear the commentators discussing the game after making a cheeky comment but you tuned it out. You watched them walk off the court, snapping out of the trace as soon as the camera cut to the other team. You quickly turned it off. Taking a deep breath in your silent apartment.

You were going through your Instagram feed when you came across a post from Tobio. It was him and Yumi in front of a new car, kissing. You noticed it had multiple pictures, and swiped through, all of them of the couple. The last one was the most recent, earlier today, in fact, you recognized the jersey of the other team in the background. You part of the caption, deciding to scroll past before scrolling back up to read the long paragraph that was pretty much a love letter to Yumi. You bit your lip and liked it, cursing afterwards, you didn’t want him to know you still followed him. You debated unfollowing but decided against it, it’d only look weirder if you had liked a post and weren’t following him. You couldn’t get his expression out of your head, he looked so happy.

It's like we never even happened. Baby, what the fuck is up with that?

Over the next few days you received multiple texts from Kageyama, updates on his family; that they were asking about you, wanting you to visit, an invitation to a small gathering they were having next week, Tsukishima, Yamaguchi and Yachi were in town and he wanted to introduce Yumi to everyone. And several attempts to start a conversation.

You replied to all of them, thanking him for the update, politely declining the invitation; using work as an excuse, and you halfheartedly tried to keep up with the conversations until it got to be too much. It was like nothing happened, like he hadn’t suddenly broken up with you, after almost 7 years together. There were times you wanted to remind him, but decided against it. You didn’t want to be the bitter ex, you wanted to move on, like he had.

And good for you, it's like you never even met me

You think Shoyo had a talk with him.

After it all became too much, the media, the texts, the times he tried to call you, you told Shoyo. He was furious, ignoring your pleas to just leave it be as he left your apartment.

Later that night he came back, less angry and with takeout. When you had asked where he went he just smiled and told you not to worry about it. You watched movies the rest of the night. When you awoke the next morning there were no texts from Kageyama, and nothing on social media. Your nosiness got the best of you and you looked him up, only to furrow your brow as the results came up blank. You checked the other social media you had each other on and couldn’t find him anywhere. You didn’t dare text him, just in case, but it was obvious- he had blocked you, on everything.

There was an emotion curling in your chest, but you couldn’t quite name it. You didn’t know how to feel about it, so you stayed in bed for a few more hours before migrating to the couch. Shoyo didn’t come over that night, and you hated that you were slightly relieved.

Remember when you swore to God I was the only person who ever got you?

You sighed, still slightly out of breath and damp with sweat, snuggling into the body next to you regardless, smile stretching your lips. He tightened his arm around your waist, petting your hair as he shifted onto his side, bringing you closer and tangling your legs together. You wrapped your arms around his neck loosely, softly kissing his throat, right below his adam's apple before resting your face against his collarbone. He shuddered and drew you impossibly closer. “I know I don’t say it as often as I should, but I love you (Y/N), so much. I swear sometimes I feel like you’re the only person in the world who understands me. Ugh, that sounded so cliché.” You snorted as he slightly shook with laughter. “I love you too Tobio.” You brought your head up for a tender kiss before the two of you settled into a peaceful slumber.

Well, screw that, and screw you. You will never have to hurt the way you know that I do

You awoke the following morning with a hollow ache in your chest, your eyes burned but nothing came. You don’t know if it was good that the tears never came, but the hollowness settled heavily in you, it seemed to be all around you, weighing down the air equally. You were on autopilot the whole day, not fully there.

You blinked at the chime from your phone and raised your brows at the time, and your eyes widened at the name in your notifications. You quickly opened the text and looked at the image 2,3,5 times. It was a selfie, only the top part of Yumi’s face was visible, she must’ve been taking it, having to have it out enough to get Kageyama and all of his family in the frame, everyone smiling brightly. The typing bubble popped up for a few seconds before it disappeared and was replaced by a small message. You read it over and over before biting your lower lip. This is when the tears would normally come, when they’d be expected and yet they didn't. The burn was there, the lump in your throat but nothing else except the hollow pulsed in your chest. You didn’t think that was a good sign.

From Tobio:

We miss you! The kids keep asking when you’re going to come to play again. We love you, and you’re always welcome to visit. -Miwa~

Well, good for you. You look happy and healthy, not me if you ever cared to ask

You decided not to tell Shoyo about the picture, after all, it was his sister who sent it. He sent an apology the next day and you quickly dismissed it, asking him to tell her thanks and to tell everyone hello for you and that you hoped they had a great trip.

He unblocked you later that day. You assumed it was because of your text, he probably thought everything was fine now, that little bump in the road passed and things were back to normal again. And you tried, you tried so hard to go back to the person you were before. Fake it ‘till you make it was something you lived by, and you certainly were doing a great job faking it, but the ache in your chest told you that you hadn’t made it yet.

Good for you, You're doin' great out there without me, baby

You always kept up with the volleyball news and media, now for just Shoyo, but it was impossible to not see Adlers updates, and as MSBY’s rival you felt you needed to keep up. They were a force to be reckoned with, win after win; tournament after tournament they were at the top, MSBY one of the few to keep up. You sent him a congratulatory text after his last win, if he didn’t want to leave your friendship then you’ll try your hardest not to either, even if it hurts.

God, I wish that I could do that

Well, that lasted about 2 weeks. It’d been about 2 months since Kageyama broke up with you. You texted occasionally, most of them short conversations. They used to be longer, but you knew that to really get over him, you couldn’t be his best friend like before, you had to distance yourself. Shoyo wanted you to block him, even if just for a few more months, so you can move on quicker, but you disagreed. Your lives were so intertwined it wasn’t possible to not see him or hear about him at least once a week, usually in the form of sports journalism.

You laughed at Tsukishima’s joke, choking on the margarita you were in the middle of drinking, causing the others to laugh at you. Everyone was miraculously in town this week and demanded that you all hang out all week. Yachi stayed at Hinata's apartment since he had a roommate, and Tsukishima and Yamaguchi stayed at yours, though everyone decided to congregate at your apartment, the former two falling asleep on your couch and after the third night in a row, you convinced them to just stay. Hinata packed a bag and slept on your futon, Yachi slept in your bed with you, and the last two shared your guest bedroom.

While they all swore it was a mere coincidence everyone was in town, you had a strong theory that Hinata invited everyone down to stay with you, since in 3 days was what would’ve been your 7 year anniversary with Kageyama. They did their best to keep you distracted, going out to clubs, having movie marathons and game nights that lasted until dawn. You were filled with immense gratitude for that, and you made sure to let them know it. You were glad your little group was able to stick together, even if the shadow of the empty seat at the table grows with each passing day.

I've lost my mind, I've spent the night cryin' on the floor of my bathroom

You almost made it. Everyone stayed in today, keeping a careful eye on you all morning, until you got a call from your mother. Your parents lived in the countryside, they didn’t have great reception out there, even if they did they’d keep the single landline they have now. They called every so often, for holidays or updates on health and family members. The last time you talked to them was about 6 months ago. You head into your bedroom before you answer, a little worried about what might be going on, you knew your father’s health was declining, could something have happened? You took a deep breath and accepted the call, bringing your phone to your ear. “Hello? Mom?”

It takes a second before she replies, probably trying to get your father to stand next to her. “(Y/N) sweetie, sorry it’s been so long, it’s been busy down here and since your father can’t do a whole lot anymore, it’s been taking longer to keep the farm in shape.” You can hear your father grumble something in the background and you can imagine your mother rolling her eyes.

“Nevermind that! We were calling to congratulate you and Tobio on your anniversary, that’s today right? 7 years, I hope you know how lucky you are dear, these days relationships just aren’t lasting like they used to, but I’ve always known you two would stick through, I still do. Hopefully one of these days I’ll get a call about a ring? Or maybe some grandbabies?” She giggled on the other end, going on to talk about her and your father’s relationship, not paying attention to if you’ve replied or not, and you haven’t, you’re- you’re- you jolt out of whatever trance you were in to find yourself on your bathroom floor, back against the tub, your mother still chattering away in your ear, though you can’t hear her.

She’s right. Today is- would’ve, been 7 years. A flurry of emotions roars to life in your chest and you feel the familiar burning and grip start to take hold. You clear your throat, interrupting her story.

“Uh mom, me and Tobio aren’t together anymore. I’m sorry, I meant to call earlier, but there’s a lot going on. I actually have to go, I promise I’ll call later okay? I might be able to get away from work in a few weeks to visit. Love you.”

You ended the call, guilt joining the mix, you had completely forgotten to tell your mother, her words stirring the pot of emotions and memories in your gut as they rose into your chest, filling your lungs, spilling into your throat into your nasal cavity, behind your eyes and into your skull. You slackened your hold on your phone, and it tumbled onto the tile. You choked against the burning in your throat, pressing your palms into your eyes, trying- uselessly- to stop the slideshow of memories.

He had been your best friend, your longest crush, your first- well, everything. You truly thought you would be spending the rest of your life with him, travelling the world as he plays volleyball, eventually settling down and buying a house somewhere, anywhere. Marriage, a cat, maybe a dog, and kids. You never once thought the father of your future children would be anyone but Kageyama Tobio. Apparently, he thought differently. Against your will, the night he ended everything played back in your vision.

You heard the door close as you finished up dinner, a smile stretching wide on your face as you imagined his reaction. You spent the week learning how to make this dish, an old family recipe from his grandmother that he apparently adored and ate every time he visited home without fail. After years of watching her make it, you’d think you would have a good idea of how but you were naïve to think so. You finish plating the dishes and setting up the table, brows pinched in confusion, he hadn’t come to greet you yet, which he always does. You shrug it off, he might’ve had a tiring practice, hopefully the food makes up for it.

You pad down the hallway, thinking he jumped straight in the shower. You stop in the doorway of your shared bedroom; He was sitting on the edge of the bed, head in his hands as his elbows dig into his knees. Worry and confusion rose; what was wrong? Was practice that bad? You don’t try to mask your steps towards him, though he flinches all the same when you lay a hand on his shoulder, quickly withdrawing it. You sink to your knees in front of him, gingerly holding his wrists as you speak softly.

“Hey babe, what’s wrong? Did you have a bad practice? Why don’t you tell me about it over dinner, I got everything at the table.” He sighed deeply, sagging further, like the weight of the world weighed down on him. Your concern grew and you squeezed his wrists in a silent question. He took a deep breath and sat up, you let your hands fall away but he caught them, cradling them in his grasp, pity and guilt swirling in his glassy gaze as it met yours.

You sat up on your knees, why in the world would he look at you like that? “Tobio? What’s wrong, baby you have to tell me so I can help, you gotta let me in.” You were pleading at this point. He so rarely showed this much sadness, you were sick with worry, mind going to the worst-case scenario. He squeezes your hands, bringing them up to his lips. He keeps them there for a moment, his eyes shut, brow drawn tight.

He brings them back down to his lap and lets out another sigh, meeting your gaze again. You can see the conflict on his features bright as day. “(Y/N), I’ve been so lucky to have you in my life, I don’t think I’ll ever be able to pay back what you’ve given me. I’m truly, truly grateful and you've been one of my longest friends, one of my best friends. Which is why- why-“

He lets out a shuddering breath gaze dropping, tightening his grip around your hands. Your brow is pinched deeply, eyes searching his features for any sign of what could be going on. He takes a breath, trying to calm himself before continuing, and when he meets your gaze you no longer see the guilt, you see a wall you worked so hard to bring down. You open your mouth to speak, but he cuts you off. “You are one of the most important people in my life, which is why I have to do this. I can’t keep doing this, prolonging the inevitable only makes it more painful and the last thing I want to do is hurt you. But, (Y/N) I can't keep this up any longer, I thought- I thought it might pass, if I kept going along, pretending like everything is fine, when it’s not.” Your heart drops, no, it can’t be, what does he mean?.

“Everything is fine Tobio, what are you talking about? What are you saying, I-I don’t understand.” The emotion thickens your voice and his face falls as he sees the tears gather in your eyes. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, I loved you so, so much. I promise, I loved you more than anything, so much it hurt.” The tears are escaping both your eyes. You want to get out of his grasp but his hands only tighten around yours, like a lifeline. You suppress a sob bubbling up to speak, the world tumbling softly from your quivering lips. “Did?”

A hand touching your shoulder tears you from the memory. You’re aware of the hot tears streaming down your face, of the tight sobs wracking your frame, ripping from your throat against your will. You feel hollow, the ache grows and pulses until it’s all you feel, grief rising to meet it. You blink the tears away, to look around the room, you hadn’t recognized it right away, still disoriented from the memory. You see your friends, concern and in some cases, anger, in their gaze as they hover. You were surprised to find Tsukishima was the one at your side, the one who had pulled you from the memory turned nightmare. Your lip wobbles and he pulls you into his arms, embracing you as you cry into his sweatshirt, much like you had to Hinata weeks ago.

You’re vaguely aware of hushed voices around you, the rumble of Tsukishima’s voice oddly soothes you. You can hear Shoyo behind you, you think you hear him say your mother’s name, was she calling again? The thought slips from your mind as quickly as it came. You sat in your bathroom for who knows how long, crying in Tsukishima’s arms, surrounded by your friends.

But you're so unaffected, I really don't get it but I guess good for you

Later that night, when everyone has finally passed out, you slip through your apartment door, pulling your hood up as you head towards the street. You have your phone, keys and pepper spray. You just wanted- no, needed to get out of there, the slight chill in the air rousing you. You take in the surroundings, letting your feet take you wherever they please.

You sigh as you take in the park in front of you. You used to come here a lot, whenever you needed to clear your head. It was a space for you to be truly alone to work out your emotions. Which is exactly what you needed now. You smile faintly as you reminisce, not paying attention as you head to the swings, only to stop in your tracks, still hidden in the shade as you watch on. What the fuck.

The creak of the swings is drowned out by laughter, two people sit on the swings, legs pumping to go higher and higher. Her hair whips in the wind and she closes her eyes, leaning back for a moment. You watch him slow down, eventually stopping and getting up to approach her flying form. Right when she is about to pass him, he moves, grabbing her and the swing, halting them mid-swing. She squeals, which quickly melts into laughter as she lets go of the chains, wrapping her legs around his torso and her arms around his neck. Her smile is a sun in the night, love radiating from the couple as they kiss. You look away and spot an open picnic basket, a bottle of wine poking through on a blanket rumpled from use.

You leave as silently as you came.

Maybe I'm too emotional but your apathy's like a wound in salt

The hollow ache starts to burn as you walk back to your apartment. You didn’t expect him to be as affected tonight as you were but you thought he’d- what did you think he’d feel? Mourning? Grief? Sadness? Why would he? He was the one who broke it off, who ‘fell out of love’ or at least that’s what he said when he broke your heart. And to bring her there?

Maybe I'm too emotional Or maybe you never cared at all

You shared that spot with him a year after you moved in together, he knew its significance to you, to your relationship. How long had he been bringing her there? What did he tell her about it? Did he use the words you said to him all those years ago? You wondered if he even remembered what today was. He said he had loved you, but was he truthful? He promised quite a few things during your relationship that were broken when he admitted it, when he confessed ‘what had been eating him up inside.’

Maybe I'm too emotional but your apathy's like a wound in salt

The hollow was slowly filling, bitter, anger, loss, and more flooded the space as you recalled his words that night.

“I can’t do this anymore.” You had never felt more dread than in that moment.

“I loved you so, so much.” You had wished the past tense was a mistake, but you knew it wasn’t.

“I don’t know when it happened, if it was slowly or quickly.” You could tell it was a lie.

“I-I just realized I loved you in a different way than you loved me.” A cute way of saying he no longer loved you.

“I thought that if I just stuck with it, that it might change, that it was just a slump.” Another way to say ‘leading you on because I was too afraid to tell you the truth.’

“I tried, I tried so hard to love you the way you wanted me to.” For how long? How many years did he lead you on, how long did he let you think everything was ok?

“You deserve more than I can offer.” You knew that was true, you did deserve more. You deserved a lot more than this, than an offer.

Maybe I'm too emotional Or maybe you never cared at all

You were crying by the time you got to your apartment building, but it was different. You didn’t feel the aching hollow as strongly as before. You felt anger, bitterness about what he said, you had a million things you wanted to say to him, to make him know what he did. But didn’t he already know? He was there, he saw what his words did, he saw the aftermath, at the very least he heard about it. And yet the night after he was pictured entering a popular high-end club. It was on your Twitter feed that morning, effectively pouring salt and lemon into the hole in your heart. You had thought it then, and you’re thinking it now.

Well, good for you. You look happy and healthy, not me If you ever cared to ask

The next morning, no one brought up last night, and you were thankful for it. You think they could sense the shift, from the aching despair to the brittle anger. So you all lounged on the couch, playing Mario Kart to help you channel it.

You were on the fourth stage of Grief according to Yamaguchi, who brought it up the following day over breakfast. He explained: Denial- which was during the breakup and right after, Depression- which came to fruition after you ran into them at the store, Bargaining- When you tried to go back to how it was before, trying to keep the friendship alive so you’d still have him around, Anger- which was now, when you realize that you wasted years of your life for someone who didn’t even love you and now they want to go back to friends, after they immediately get into a new relationship. The next step would be the final- Acceptance, when you would finally accept he was gone, when you could finally move on.

Good for you

After that night the change became more obvious. You weren’t hiding anymore, you would hold your head high and snap others off if they trod down the wrong path. You felt the hot anger slowly cool over time, as you continued to go out, to clubs, bars, parties Shoyo always invites you to but you always decline. You met his teammates, finally after too long.

He had dinner for you and the team at his apartment that he shares with one of the said teammates. You dressed up a little, enough for Shoyo to whistle when you showed him over facetime as you finished getting ready. You weren’t planning on going anywhere except your apartment after; there was just something about knowing you look good that does wonders to the confidence. You grin widely as he complains about not wanting to deal with his teammates crushing on you. You end the call when you get into your car, you were going to stop by the store to get something and then head over, despite his assurances no one else was bringing anything.

You purse your lips in thought as you surveyed the wine selection in front of you, bending slightly to read the label of one on a lower shelf. You didn’t realize you were taking up the aisle until someone cleared their throat behind you. You paid the little mind, murmuring an apology as you stepped to the side. You felt their presence next to you, and after a minute of them burning a hole through you with their gaze you turned towards them, lips pursed in annoyance rather than thought.

You're doin' great out there without me, baby, like a damn sociopath

The wide eyes of Kageyama Tobio meet yours as you study him for a moment before smiling. “Kageyama! Sorry, I didn’t realize I was taking up the whole aisle, you know me; always so indecisive.”

Your joke seems to snap him out of whatever train of thought he was in. He smiles and chuckles, turning to look at the wine in front of you. “What kind of an occasion is it?” He asks after a beat. “Oh Shoyo is introducing me to his teammates today, wine’s something people bring to dinners right?”

He smiles and nods before pointing out several bottles. “These would be appropriate, and Shoyo likes this brand.'' He plucks one from the shelf before presenting it to you. You smile and thank him, before parroting his question back to him. He turns back to the wine. “Uh, Yumi got a promotion and I’m surprising her with dinner with her coworkers.” You hum in thought before grabbing a wine off the shelf for him. “I think this would be a good one. It's white, so the stain won't be as bad and won’t stain her lips like a red would. It’s a dessert wine so even her younger colleagues should enjoy it. Oh, and tell her congrats for me.” He smiles and thanks you before you part.

You arrive right on time at Shoyo’s, the wine was well received and his teammates were great. They were everything he told you and more, you all got along great, especially you and Atsumu, he was Shoyos roommate and it was great to have another person to make fun of his horrible habits with, much to Shoyo’s dismay.

The dinner flies by, and eventually, you’re the last to leave. You wave to Atsumu before hugging Shoyo. “Thank’s Sho, for everything you’ve done for me these past 6 months. I love you.” He squeezes you tight, kissing the crown of your head before pulling away.“You don’t need to thank me (Y/N), I know you’d do the same. I love you too, drive safe.” You wave as you leave back to your apartment.

I've lost my mind, I've spent the night. Cryin' on the floor of my bathroom

The next 6 months fly by, and you spend more and more time with Shoyo and his team. Bokuto dubs you an honorary Jackal and you celebrate drinking until dawn, as a true Jackal would. You spend time with them individually, the gym with Bokuto, reality TV with Sakusa, movie nights with Shoyo, and all of the above with Atsumu, in addition to annoying his brother Osamu at his restaurant.

It hits you out of the blue. You had felt a little off all day, but you had chalked it up to the takeout you had last night. You glance at the calendar as you walk past, only to backtrack and look again, with wide eyes. Today marked a year since the breakup. It had taken you a long time to move on, but you were finally starting to feel yourself again, so why did your heart ache all of a sudden? Why did the burning rise in your throat, prickling the back of your eyes as you began to breathe faster, feeling the despair rise out of the depths to rip a sob from you lips? You try to stop, taking deep breaths, count five things in the room, but none of it works. It’s not as bad as the other times, but you feel shame crawling up to join, you were finally turning things around, how could you let it all go to waste?

You curl into yourself on the couch, blindly calling Shoyo to ask for his company, maybe he’d know, he helped you get this far, maybe he can make sure you don’t fall too far. You listen to the rings until you hear the click of an answered call, not even letting him speak before crying into the phone, asking him to be with you, help you understand. Half your words are unintelligible as you ramble on, not really listening to the other end until you think you hear him say he’s on his way, but he sounded odd, different. Had you interrupted him? Was he too busy? No, he would’ve told you and sent someone else, probably Yachi since she was the closest.

You quickly tire of trying to hold everything back, and let it wash over you, all the feelings from this past year rise up, poised to drown you, and you allow it, letting it crash down and wash over you. You let the sobs free themselves, somehow knowing it was the right thing. You give yourself to the despair, the anger, the loneliness.

You don’t hear the knocking at the door, or the sound of the door opening, too absorbed untangling the knot of emotions in your heart; until you feel the cushion next to you you sink with the weight of another person, and a hand gently rubs your back soothingly.

You lean into him, letting him pull you to him like many times before. He pulls you into his lap, curling an arm around your waist while the other hand cradles the back of your head, letting you sob into his shirt. You take a deep breath, letting his familiar scent calm you- wait.

You freeze and your stomach drops. It’s not Shoyo. They're bigger, enough to cradle you against their chest. They’re whispering soothing words into your hair, and you hear a familiar accent, leaning back quickly enough to send a wave of dizziness through you and you sway for a moment.

“Woah, what’s wrong?” Atsumu asks, moving his hands to your hip and back to steady you. Your wide eyes meet his and he tilts his head slightly in confusion. “(Y/N), hey sweetheart, you okay? Gave me quite the scare there earlier ya know?” You continue to stare at him until he waves a hand in front of your face, breaking whatever spell you were under.

You blink a few times, shaking your head slightly as the corner of his mouth quirked up. You look back at him, brows furrowed, cringing when you hear your voice, hoarse after however long of crying. “’Tsumu? What’re you doing here? Where’s Sho?” He raises an eyebrow at your question, lifting his hand to wipe a tear from your cheek.

“Whaddya mean? You called me cryin’ an’ askin’ me to come here to keep ya company. Speakin’ of, what in the world is wrong? What’s got you so sad sweetcheeks?” Your face heats at the nickname.

“Oh, ‘m sorry, I meant to call Sho, he knows; it’s- today is-” He embraces you as a fresh wave of tears springs from your eyes. You can hear the rumble of his chest as he speaks, breath fanning your ear. “It’s all ok, ya don’t haveta cry, I can call chibi if you want him instead of me, it's no prob-“ You shake your head, cutting him off.

“No, s’kay. Thanks for being here ‘Tsumu, sorry I pretty much threw myself into your lap when you sat down.” You rub an eye, feeling awfully close to a toddler. He chuckles and combs your hair back, tilting your chin up so you’re looking him in the eye. “No needta thank me doll, and I won’t object to a pretty thing like you throwing themselves into my lap, though I’d enjoy it more if you weren’t crying. Now, d’ya wanna tell me what made you cry a river in here. Or at least what I can do to help.”

You curl inward slightly, not sure how to explain your wants at this moment, the emotions tangling in your chest too raw to name. You use actions to express your needs as words continue to fail you. You shift in his lap, straddling him instead of the awkward side hug you were doing before. You break eye contact, looking anywhere but him, feeling awkward and exposed. He snorts softly and his hands run up your knees, palm flat against your thighs, up and over your hips to splay against your back, bringing you back to his chest. Your pals lay flat against his sides, sliding along his ribcage and then south, fisting the fabric against his lower back as you rested your cheek on his shoulder. You waited and waited but the tears didn’t come, you could feel the tear tracts cool on your cheeks, trying to put your feelings into words.

A shudder than through his body as he felt you sigh into his neck, arms wrapping tighter around you, pulling you closer, until you were flush against him. The minutes passed by as the two of you stayed wrapped around each other, you breathing the only sound in the apartment. You sighed again, pulling away from him slightly to lean back to look at him. He searched your face, taking in the emotions clouding your eyes, thumbs rubbing circles into your hips soothingly. You gave him a weary smile and took a deep breath, looking down at your hands as you spoke.

“I don’t know if Sho told you about this, but about 6 months before I met you guys I got out of a pretty serious relationship, I mean it was my first relationship and the breakup hit me really hard. The day of the dinner was one of the first times I had truly felt myself again.

“We got together in our first year of high school. We had been friends years before that. God, I had a crush on him for so long, I can’t remember anyone before that.” Your voice is whispy, reminiscing on a better time. “I wasn't a manager that first year, though I was around often enough that I helped where I could. I was at almost every practice, which is how I got acquainted with the other first years. He was still guarded and grumpy then, so I was friends with everyone first, and we all slowly warmed up to each other.

“When he asked me out at the end of the year, after saying goodbye to the third years, it just- it felt so right, like this is supposed to happen. I was a manager our last two years and by graduation the six of us were close. We managed to stay in touch and visit each other whenever possible. Sho had gone to travel, Kei to Sendai for school, Hitoka and Tadashi stayed for school before she went to Tokyo and he stayed in Miyagi. Tobio was picked up by the national team immediately after graduation, to play in Rio. I was accepted into a university in Osaka, and he moved in with me when he got back.” You ignored the way Atsumu’s hands tightened their grip when you said his name.

“It was perfect, we- we were doing fine, or at least I thought we were.” Your voice cracked and you took a shuddering breath before continuing. “He traveled between Tokyo and Osaka a lot and of course for games but it never bothered me, I knew what I was getting into. Eventually, Sho came back, and joined your team, moving into an apartment not far from ours. I was so happy.” You whispered the last sentence, afraid if you said it too loud it’d sound like a lie.

“I hadn’t noticed any changes, he didn’t seem withdrawn or unaffectionate, he was like he always was, until he wasn’t. He came home one night and said he didn’t love me like that anymore, that he couldn’t love me the way I loved him. He- he said he tried to, he said he tried for a long time, in case it was a slump but it wasn’t. And all-all I could think about was the way he said it, like he had been thinking about this for a long time, he looked so tired like he had the weight of the world on his shoulders as he told me the last who knows how long was a lie.

“He left and stayed at a teammate's house until he could get an apartment. He moved close by, I still don’t know why he didn’t move to Tokyo. Sho came and stayed with me for a few days, until I kicked him out so he could focus on the tournament that was coming up. He kept in touch with Tobio, and would update me when I asked.

“That was a year ago, and I know I should be over him, and I am, or I thought I was until I realized what today was and- and everything, all the emotions I had pushed down came back up, no longer letting me ignore them. All the grief and anger and insecurity kept rising and rising until I thought I was gonna drown. Which is when I called Sho, or at least I thought I did.” The corner of your mouth twitched into a small smile as you met his gaze.

But you're so unaffected, I really don't get it

“I- I think it would’ve been easier if he hurt too, if I saw that it affected him even half as much, because that would mean he had felt something, he had loved me at one point. And I don’t know, maybe he came to terms with it before he ended it, but seeing him with someone else, not even 3 weeks later just rubbed salt too deep into the wound that just seeing them happy together sent me into tears. When I ran into them days after I found out, when I saw with my own eyes how good he was, how happy he was without me; I don’t know how long I cried, but it was suffocating, it had such a tight grip on me I couldn’t breathe, I didn’t even realize Sho was there until he was hugging me.” You watched your tears fall onto your hands, leaving droplets on his pants. You took in a shuddering breath, suddenly meeting his gaze.

“I just- I don’t know what wrong with me, why can’t I let myself be happy?” Your voice cracked, and you brought a hand to your face, embarrassment simmering low in your gut. Atsumu gently pried your hand away from your face, replacing it with his own as he cupped your cheek. He wiped the tears that fell from your lashes with his thumb. He brought you forward to kiss the crown of your head before returning his gaze to you.

“Doll, look at me. There is nothing wrong with you, ya hear? Your heart was broken, it ain’t gonna fix itself in a day. You will be happy, I promise. Whenever we lose someone we love, a piece of us goes with them. He was sucha huge part of your life, I’d be more worried if you weren’t sad. I can’t say when, but one day you’ll notice it hurts less and less until you barely notice it. Until then you have me and everyone else to help you, so don’t hesitate to lean on us when you need to, got it?”

Your bottom lip wobbled and your eyes were glassy with tears yet again, though this time for a different reason. You threw your arms around his neck and crushed him into you as you cried his name. “I didn’t know you were such a softie! I bet no ones gonna believe me when I tell ‘em.” He wrapped his arms around you again, you were so close you could feel his laughter in his chest. “Yeah, and I didn’t know ya were such a cry baby.” You snorted and pulled away, “That’s on you, I am a well-known cry baby.”

You matched his grin, feeling lighter. You pulled yourself off his lap, but he didn’t let you get very far, pulling you into his side, your legs thrown over his thighs as you turned on the TV. You ended up falling asleep on your couch together, your neck cramped and you found out you drool, but it was worth it.

But I guess good for you

The next few months went by relatively quickly. There were a few hiccups, mostly on holidays, but you listened to what Atsumu had told you and you leaned on your friends during those times. Speaking of Atsumu, while you two were close before, after that night you felt even closer. You found yourself at the apartment he shared with Shoyo more and more. You came to every MSBY game you could, usually helping Osamu run his booth.

When you weren’t with him, Atsumu would often find you helping his brother run orders at the restaurant; under the guise of an apology for annoying him so often, but both twins saw how happy you were when you were working. Eventually, Osamu just gave you a position there, because he didn’t want to get caught exploiting free labor, not because he liked you or anything, you were just as annoying as his brother- or so he says.

The blonde hadn’t noticed just how much time the two of you spent together until you went to visit Yachi in Tokyo for a week, and had odd chunks of time with nothing to do. It was confusing, and frankly off-putting how different it was when you weren’t around. Everyone noticed of course, and teased him for it, more the team than Osamu, because he couldn’t deny he missed you too.

Despite your protests that it was just a 2-hour train ride from Tokyo, and maybe another 10-minute ride to the stop near your apartment, Atsumu insisted on picking you up from the station during your call earlier. “ ‘M not taking no for an answer doll, I’m picking ya up.” You rolled your eyes at his stubbornness and sighed. “Fine, but I’m venoming you for the gas, no ifs ands or buts about it.” You smiled at the sound of his groan from the other line, good thing you were just as stubborn.

Well, good for you, I guess you moved on really easily

You were idly scrolling through your Instagram feed, about 10 minutes away from Osaka when you saw a glimpse of a ring, you scrolled back up and read the caption. ‘I’m the luckiest man in the world’ followed by a picture of what must’ve been Yumi’s hand, and adorned on her left ring finger was a large, and no doubt expensive, engagement ring. 6 months ago it would’ve summoned tears, but now you smile faintly, commenting your congratulations before scrolling past. Atsumu was right, eventually, it started to hurt less and less and now it was barely there.

You stood up when the announcement of your arrival in Osaka rang overhead, tucking your phone away and grabbing your bags to exit the train car. You immediately spotted your chauffeur, thanks mostly to the gaggle of young girls surrounding him as he laughed and signed autographs. You walked slowly, trying to buy time until they left but (un?)fortunately he spotted you. A wide grin stretched his features and you couldn’t help but reciprocate, lifting your hand in a small wave. He turned back to the girls and said something before breaking through, jogging towards you as you met him halfway.

You had an amused look on your face from his theatrics and the wide gazes of the girls he left behind. “Hey.” He said when he stopped in front of you. You snorted, “Hey.” He pouted at your tease, which only made it more funny, before rolling his eyes and taking some of your bags, giving you a pointed look when you tried to object. You huffed and walked next to him towards the exit.

You startled slightly when his arm wrapped around your waist, pulling you by your hip into his side. You looked up at him but he kept his gaze ahead, though you could see the slight flush to his cheeks and the slight twitch of a grin. You reciprocated, hooking your thumb through the belt loop by his hip as you kept your gaze ahead, his stare bringing a slight heat to your face.

He laughed lightly and you two continued out to his car where he tried to make you sit in the back seat because “ it’s not professional for a chauffeur to let their passenger sit up front.” You laughed before letting your face fall into a mock-serious stare and said “no.” in the best deadpan tone you could conjure up before climbing in.

You raised an eyebrow as you looked at him when he didn’t start the car. His hands were on the steering wheel and he was looking ahead in thought. “Atsumu?” He looked at you, smiling softly, still not saying anything. “Uhh you okay? Do I really need to sit in the back for you to be able to drive because-“ He laughed, waving your concerns off. “No, no, I’ll allow it this once. Sorry for spacin’ out, I’m happy yer home.” You looked at him incredulously, “ I was 2 hours away ‘tsumu.” You see a faint flush creep up his neck and he clears his throat, turning back to the wheel and turning on the car. ‘I know, I just missed ya ‘s all.”

You were just able to make out his dejected mumble, quietly huffing in amusement as you glanced down briefly before turning to look forward, biting back the smile at his flinch when you grabbed his hand, bringing it to your lap as you intertwined your fingers. “I missed you too, ya big softie.” Smiling, he squeezes your palm before focusing on the road, and you feel something stir, a bud sprouting from the once hollow place in your chest. It hasn’t bloomed yet, but you have a feeling it will soon.

#my writing #haikyuu!!#haikyuu #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu x you #haikyuu x y/n #haikyu #miya atsumu #miya atsumu x y/n #miya atsumu x reader #miya atsumu x you #atsumu x reader #atsumu x y/n #atsumu x you #haikyuu atsumu

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gamerwoo · 4 years ago

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[Tales from the Pack] Hansol: Fire and Ice (Part Six)

Characters: Hansol x female reader

Genre/warnings: werewolf au, fantasy, angst, the smallest bit of fluff just bc hansol’s optimistic and a sweetheart

Word count: 2,420

Summary: You’ve always been one to let your emotions get the best of you – your power reflects that – and you’ve never been good at expressing them. That’s why you always thought you’d be awful with a mate, but you never thought things would be this awful.

a/n: things in bold are in english. also this takes place the same night as the last part but it explains where hansol was when minghao couldn’t find him, and what happened to his mate after she woke up. AND it does talk about rika and baekhyun and i used to have a series for them called amend buuuut i also took that down to redo it lmao so there’s not really much backstory on them other than what i have for star crossed so if you’re confused, that’s ok lmao

Previous | Next | Fire and Ice Masterlist

Hansol sat on the lawn as he usually did, staring up at the stars. He always wondered if you were looking at the stars, too. He wondered if you even liked looking stars, or what you preferred looking at instead. Did you like watching the clouds or animals in the forest? Did you like watching snow fall in the winter or rain fall in the summer? Did you still find staring at the fire comforting and pleasing even though you could easily form it effortlessly at your fingertips?

You were all Hansol thought about, and truthfully, he waited up every night for you. He never once felt you were in danger, and he knew he could find you quickly if there was danger. But for now, he was giving you space. He was just hoping you’d come back to him. If you did, he’d go see that doctor your pack recommended. If not, then he’d already be dead before the pain could get any worse – unless the silver managed to kill him first, in which case, it wouldn’t really matter anyway.

Hansol heard the front door open and shut before he heard somebody walking in the grass. He could smell Seokmin’s scent, so he knew it was him coming over.

“I’m about to go to bed, and everyone else is already in their rooms,” he told the younger boy. “I just wanted to see if you needed anything.”

“Actually,” Hansol spoke up, peeling his gaze away from the night sky to look at Seokmin, “I’ve been thinking...”

“About what?” Seokmin wondered as he sat down beside his brother.

“It’s been about a week since everything,” he began, staring at the grass between the two of them, “so I think it’s safe to go look back at the old house.”

Seokmin didn’t understand why Hansol would feel any need going back there. No doubt everything would be burned to the ground. Any belongings they had were what was left in their house, or what was put there by your pack in preparation for them to move in.

“Look for what?” he asked.

Hansol’s golden eyes practically sparkled when he looked up at Seokmin, “Something of Jiung’s or Chanseong’s. I want to give it to _____.”

“When?” Seokmin scoffed. “I don’t mean to sound mean, Sol, but do you even know if she’ll come back to you?”

“I’d go leave it at the house,” he shrugged. “I won’t go see her if she doesn’t want me to, so I’d just leave it there and go.”

“What are you expecting to find, exactly? You know there won’t be any bodies.”

“There might be. Or maybe there’s something small that didn’t get completely burned. I don’t know.”

As Hansol pushed himself off of the ground, Seokmin looked up at him, “Are you leaving right now?”

“Yeah,” he shrugged. “Do you wanna come help me?”

Seokmin sighed but got up as well, “Somebody has to keep you out of trouble.”

“Okay, Mr. Thunder-and-Lightning,” Hansol chuckled as the two brothers walked closer to the edge of their property and into the woods, “I think you are the trouble.”

“Hey, I helped!” Seokmin insisted.

“Yeah, helped Jooyeon have a heart attack,” Hansol laughed as the two disappeared into the thick brush.

You woke from your nightmare with tears streaming down your face. You’d been doing this a lot lately: crying so hard you’d wake yourself up. But this time, it was better that you woke up in the middle of the night. It was the perfect time to slip out unnoticed.

Ever since that first day after Jiung died, you felt the alpha pull to Hanbin. It was supposed to be you, but it never was. You tried to pretend, but nothing changed. You were never fit to be an alpha like Jiung, but you knew Hanbin would do a good job to protect the others.

Before you left, you got out a pen and some paper and wrote a quick note to Rin. You knew this would have the biggest impact on her, but you couldn’t stay here. If you weren’t an alpha like you were supposed to be, what was the point? It was like you didn’t belong here, but you definitely knew you didn’t belong with Seungcheol’s pack – not after you denied Hansol. To be truthful, you didn’t even really feel the tie to the pack anymore, not after the two days spent with Hansol. So you were going to just…go. You didn’t know what you’d do, but you’d either figure it out eventually or you’d die – whichever came first.

But you also knew Rin would have her mate soon enough considering she often went out and followed him around. Sure, he didn’t know since Rin kept herself invisible, but just knowing where her mate was and knowing he was doing okay was what you assumed would help her cope. It was why she was hidden the entire time his pack was here: she didn’t want her mate to see her and imprint on her – not until she learned how to speak to him, at least. So you hoped she’d be okay after you left, and that she’d learn Korean to finally go introduce herself to him. He seemed like a nice enough guy, anyway. He’d definitely help her get better and would make sure she was happy.

Rin,

When you read this, I’ll be gone. I don’t know where I’m going, but please don’t look for me. I know you’ll think I betrayed you by leaving, and I won’t try to make any excuses for myself. You were alone when Jiung and Chanseong you here, and all you had was us to rely on. I always promised to stick beside you, and I’m completely breaking that promise. I know you’ll hate me, and I deserve it. But I want you to know I still love you, and I hope you’ll do okay. And try not to stress so much – your mate will love you no matter what.

Please take care of yourself.

-_____

You left the note on your pillow before grabbing Jiung’s sweater that you left laying over the back of your chair, tugging it over your head, and going to the window. You pushed the window open before leaping out and landing softly on your feet before you ran into the woods, leaving behind your home, and the pack you used to consider family.

The wolves could already smell that burnt smell from the house, but they continued to run in their wolf forms until they were closer. They didn’t shift back until they reached the clearing where their house used to stand. But now, everything was reduced to rubble and ash.

“Shit…” Seokmin mumbled, looking around the plot of land they used to call home.

A place that once held bright and lively memories now looked dark and dead. They couldn’t believe this was the same place they used to run around and play. They couldn’t believe a large, warm house once stood here. On the other hand, they couldn’t believe that said house was now destroyed. It was all just a bunch of ash and useless pieces of debris.

“I’m gonna sift through some of this and see if there’s anything we can take back,” Seokmin said, gesturing toward the largest pile of dark ash.

Hansol just went over to where he last remembered seeing Jiung, all but ignoring Seokmin. There were small piles of ash around the house, which must’ve been all the dead or severely injured that they couldn’t save. There were even some detached body parts mixed in, but thankfully that stench was covered by the smell of the burned house that attacked his nose.

He reached the general area and got down on his bare knees, sifting through the ashes. He felt bad disturbing anything that might be a body, but he was determined to find something – anything – to make you feel like you could have even a little bit of closure. Hansol just wanted you to be happy.

Something suddenly caught his eye. It was something gold that shone in the moonlight above, which was what made him notice it. He brushed away some of the ash before picking up some sort of pendant on a thin gold chain. It was a plain gold circle, no bigger than a small coin, and it had Jiung’s first initial and your first initial engraved on it with a dot in between the two letters. Jiung and _____.

Hansol let the chain dangle from his teeth – he obviously didn’t have pockets, and that’s how he’d have to carry it in wolf form anyway – before searching through the rest in case there was anything else. He found a ring that had a date engraved on it as well. He wasn’t sure what it was, but he figured he should bring it just in case.

“Hansol!” Seokmin called as he rushed over with a few books in his arms. “I found a photo album, one of Danbi’s books, and a few picture frames that made it out.”

“Good job,” the younger wolf smiled. “Let’s get back to the house before sunrise, yeah?”

So the two shifted before Seokmin collected the small stack of things in his mouth, and the two raced off to their new home, happy with the small things they were able to find.

Hansol and Seokmin could hear their names being called before they even got close to home. They picked up their pace, Hansol howling to let them know they were nearby and safe.

When they finally made it back to the house, almost all the wolves were outside, waiting for the pair to return. Seokmin immediately dropped what he had in his mouth, but Hansol kept the ring and the necklace balanced carefully between his teeth.

Jihoon looked down at the ground, scanning over the things Seokmin brought before looking at the two wolves, “Did– Did you two go back to the house?! Are you kidding me?! You both could’ve gotten killed!”

Seokmin whined but Hansol didn’t regret it. He got what he was looking for.

“Jia’s been looking for you,” Seungcheol told Hansol.

The boy carefully placed the jewelry in the grass before shifting and collecting his two items, “Why?”

The eldest alpha sighed, running a hand through his dark hair, “_____ ran away from her pack.”

Hansol paused like he was trying to see if his instincts were about to suddenly warn him about his mate, but when nothing happened, he shrugged, “She’s okay.”

“What?” Soonyoung gasped. “You’re not even gonna go check on her?”

“No, she wants her space,” he insisted. “If something bad happens, then I’ll go find her, but until then, me smothering her won’t help.”

Junhui pointed at the gold pieces of jewelry that the younger wolf held, “What’re those?”

“They’re gifts,” he replied, smiling softly to himself as he looked down at the jewelry in the palm of his hand, “for _____.”

Maybe Rika was right. Maybe Baekhyun was the worst. Maybe you should’ve listened to the tiny mate whenever she complained about him. But you always found Baekhyun pretty enjoyable since he had about the same snarky attitude as Rin. But now, you were deciding to reconsider that.

Had he not had been sniffing around your property, you wouldn’t have been caught. Had he not been having issues with not only his mate -- if you could call her that -- and his pack, he wouldn’t have stopped you.

Had Chanyeol not been worried when he realized his brother was missing and gone out to find him, you would’ve gotten away.

“Can’t burn me if I burn too, _____,” Chanyeol sang as he forcefully carried you to their house.

But you had stressed that you didn’t want anyone knowing about this. Baekhyun couldn’t tell Rika, and neither of them could snitch on you to their pack. And considering the mental state they found you in, even Baekhyun knew not to double-cross you even though he just replied with, “I’ll think about it”.

Sneaking you inside was easy because the pack was asleep. So Chanyeol brought you up to Baekhyun’s room before setting you on the bed while Baekhyun shut the door. Then he turned to look at you, quirking an eyebrow while Chanyeol just studied you with furrowed brows.

“So...what happened?” Baekhyun quizzed.

He knew what happened to your alpha already. Their pack was friends with yours, and there was also the tie to Rika. But he didn’t understand what caused you to suddenly snap.

“I don’t have to tell you,” you told him, your arms crossed over your chest.

He shrugged, “Fair. But if you’re missing, I’m sure your pack will go looking for you when they realize, and then they’ll tell us what’s going on. And Rika will love me for saving her sister from a mental break.”

Your eyes widened, “I’m not going back.”

“You’re not going to do something stupid, either,” Chanyeol stated.

“I wasn’t!” you insisted. “I was just running away, okay?”

Baekhyun bit the inside of his cheek. He figured you must’ve realized that wasn’t the pack you belonged in anymore. They knew Hanbin was the alpha when they saw him last, sensing the authority radiating off of him and the way the pack acted around him. It was obvious.

But they didn’t know why you weren’t the alpha. So where did you belong?

“Is it because--”

“Where’re you gonna go?” Baekhyun cut off Chanyeol before he could ask a stupid question.

You just shrugged, “I don’t know. I can take care of myself, though.”

While Baekhyun would’ve rather just had you stay with them, he knew Junmyeon especially would ask a lot of question. And it was obvious you didn’t want to be bothered with that. Not only that, but he’d contact Hanbin.

Finally, he let out a sigh and grabbed your upper arm, “C’mon, let’s go.”

“Go where?” you asked.

He brought you to his bedroom door, whispering, “I’m gonna stay at the hut with you so I can know you’re safe, but so you’ll be away from everybody.”

You were surprised Baekhyun was doing something to help you, but you didn’t say anything else to him until you were out of the house and a good distance away.

“Won’t your pack wonder where you went?” you pointed out.

He just shrugged, “Eh, probably not.”

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illfoandillfie · 4 years ago

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Out of Context

Request: First of all, congratulations on 1,000!!!! Could you do a a sequel to Interloper where maybe an interviewer is giving her shit for having once been a groupie and Bri Rog and Deaky defend her and have amazing sex after at like their hotel 😂-foursome anon (I’m back)

Interloper / Snapshots From Before (Prequel)

Pairing: Roger Taylor x Brian May x John Deacon x Fem!Reader

Warnings: SMUT (18+), gangbang/foursome, oral sex (m and f receiving), anal sex, tit fucking, light choking, slightly dom reader, cheer up sex, some spanking, double and triple penetration

Words: 6,145

A/N: This was another request from back at my 1000 follower celebration last year. It’s been sitting half written in my drafts since then and I finally felt inspired to finish it lmao. Foursome anon I hope you’re still around and you see this!!

Blurb Advent: Day 10

Taglist: @vee-ndetta @atomic-watermelon @kellypenac @labessieisallama @deakyclicks @jennyggggrrr @drowseoftaylor @hannafuckingsucks @i-cant-hangout-im-drumming @queenmylovely @ilovequeenmorethanyou @johndeaconshands @borhapbois @stardust-galaxies

Doing press wasn’t easy, especially when interviewers insisted on questioning you all separately. You preferred having at least one of the boys to back you up. They’d been dealing with the whole interview process for so long now they knew how to avoid answering things they didn’t want to, knew how to deal with rude reporters. But it was all new to you. Perhaps that was why this particular interview had gone so badly. There was no Freddie to make the right snide comment, no Roger to get pissed off on your behalf, no Brian or John to squeeze your knee comfortingly or take over when you go tongue tied.

Things between you and the rest of the band had been going much better since Freddie had locked you in that room together. It didn’t happen overnight, there were still lingering tensions. But any badmouthing they did of you was out of your hearing which you much preferred. Gradually, as the tour wore on, there were less tensions. They got used to having you around, began including you in their games of scrabble and their not-quite-awake conversations over hotel breakfasts. Until one day, in the final leg of the tour, when Freddie admitted to you quietly that he hadn’t overheard any whispered comments for nearly a week. “And here I was thinking we’d never get there.” “Oh hush, darling, I told you from the beginning they wouldn’t hate you forever. Sure they took a little longer to come around than I had anticipated but it all worked out in the end. And now when you tell them the execs have asked for another full album featuring you, they probably won’t kill you.” They hadn’t, of course, though you’d worried for the safety of everyone involved in making the decision. Roger looked as if he were a second away from punching the first person to talk to him.

They took less time to calm down though, especially after they saw how nervous you got before the first interview. Your agent had decided some preliminary press would help build excitement for the album before the songs were even written. Calls were made, journalists were found, and before you knew it you were facing a crowd of people vying to ask you their questions, cameras flashing the whole time. It was a lot. More than pushing you into the deep end, you’d be thrown to the bloody sharks. Any lingering ill will the boys had for you vanished after that. They’d all thankfully been there too, had drawn the attention to themselves rather than let you struggle to answer everything on your own. After that they’d kept an eye on you during the smaller interviews. Mostly the reporters were happy to talk to you all together and, as long as you said one or two things about how excited you were to be working with Queen again, and how much fun touring with them was, you could get away with letting them take lead. But every now and then you got stuck with some jackass who wanted to quiz you solo. And this interview, this horrid interview, had been one of them.

Roger pushed the magazine away from himself, letting it slide as far down your kitchen table as it would go. “She’s a fucking bitch that reporter.” You looked down at the magazine, still open to your interview, the headline alone making your stomach turn. “No, sorry, that’s an insult to dogs. She’s a fucking cunt.” “Rog,” “No, that’s an insult to vaginas. There is no word strong enough for that poor excuse for a journalist.” “Roger, sit down.” Roger shot Freddie a dirty look but sat down anyway, his knee bouncing with restless energy, “Sorry. I’m just pissed off.” “Yes, we gathered that, thanks Rog,” “She took everything I said out of context, you have to believe me.” “We do, Y/N, we do,” John said softly from beside you, rubbing circles on your back. “It started well, I swear. Just the usual questions y’know, what’s it like working with Queen? How does it feel to be singing next to Freddie Mercury? Were you nervous about touring with them? Can you give us any hints about the new album? All the things that usually come up that Freddie coached me on how to answer, and I was doing fine. I had my prepared answers and there was no stumbling over words or anything like that. I thought I’d finally got the hang of it all and then she asked me to elaborate on what it was like working with you. I’d already told her the usual thing – it was fun and y’know blew my mind and all that. But then she asked how it compare to being your groupie.” “You didn’t answer her did you?” “Christ no, Brian! Jesus what do you take me for?” Brian held his hands up in apology. “I told her that it wasn’t relevant, but she kept asking, one question after another thrown at me and no matter what I said she didn’t stop. All sorts of stuff, like which of you was the best shag, and if I’d only wanted to be your groupie because I hoped it would lead to my own album, and if I was still offering my services,” you made air quotes around the words, “accused me of using you for my own gain and asked if you were the first band I’d tried it with or if you were just the only ones gullible enough to let me. I tried to tell her no and that I wasn’t going to answer those questions but she just kept going and then she told me to get used to the attention and left. I guess she didn’t need my answers to write a whole article about it.” “Which of us is the best shag?” Brian repeated the question though you suspected he wasn’t just checking he’d heard you correctly. The others all fell quiet, waiting to see if you’d answer. “Really Bri? That’s what you got from that?” “Right, right, sorry, not the important part. Look, it’s not as bad as you think it is.” “Bri’s right, love,” Roger said, much calmer than he had been before, “there’s nothing of substance in here. Like this quote, as for the fun Ms Y/L/N mentioned was had on tour, one can’t help but wonder just what she meant. Could the stories about nights spent playing boardgames be covers for debauched, drug-fuelled, orgies the likes of which would make a pornstar blush, I mean, there’s nothing there. It’s all conjecture and anyone worth a damn will see right through it.” “But some people will believe it,” “Maybe, yes,” Freddie said, “but it’ll blow over. We’ve all been in the same place you are at one time or another. If anything this officially makes you one of the band.” “Yeah, Y/N, it’s all just spiteful rubbish.” “Thanks guys, but I think I might just call it a day, go back to bed. Stay if you want, I don’t mind. But if you leave lock the door behind you.” You stood and headed to your bedroom.

The four boys stayed quiet until you were out of your room but you heard their hushed voices and hissed comments through your bedroom door as you pulled off your jeans and unclasped your bra from under the baggy jumper you wore. It took about five minutes before there was a soft knock on your bedroom door. “Y/N, can I come in?” You contemplated feigning sleep. “I know you’re not asleep.” You sighed and sat up, hugging your knees to your chest, “Fine, Roger, come in.” “Freddie’s gone to make some calls,” he said, standing just inside your doorway, hands in his pockets. “Calls about what? It’s out there now, there’s no getting it back.” “No but we need to make it clear to other journalists that those kinds of questions won’t be answered in any future interviews, and hopefully we can make sure that parasite never gets to come anywhere near us again.” “Isn’t that mean to parasites?” Roger chuckled, “getting over it already, see,” he sat on the edge of the bed and placed his hand on your covered knee, “I know this sucks, and I get that you’re ashamed, but I promise it’s not as bad as it feels right now.” “I’m not ashamed.” “What?” “You said I’m ashamed of it but I’m not.” “Oh. I thought-” “I’m a bit embarrassed because obviously I’ve never told my family what it is I got up to when I went to all those concerts and now they’re all going to know, lord knows some of them will believe the worst of it. And I’m pissed off that I didn’t stand up for myself more. I just let her keep cutting me off and talking over me when I should have told her to fuck off or at least called her out for being a prudish arsehole who probably only attacked me because she’s jealous I’ve fucked three quarters of Queen. And I’m annoyed that you’ve all been brought up in the article, and she’s questioning whether your good people just because you sept with me. I mean does she expect you all to be virginal saints or something? It’s just frustrating and yes, upsetting. But I’m definitely not ashamed.” “Huh, okay then.” “What?” “Nothing, just, we assumed you regretted sleeping with us.” “Lord no. It wasn’t planned, like she was insinuating, but seeping with you definitely helped me get my foot in the door with this whole music thing. And even if it hadn’t done that, it was still fun as hell and made me feel good. If I wasn’t fucking you I would have been out having mediocre sex with guys I met in pubs and I don’t care how much of a slut it makes me seem, but I’d rather fuck a whole band every single night and actually get off than have a disappointing drunk lay with a guy who’s never heard of the clitoris. Fuck, I’d still be doing the whole groupie thing now, and be perfectly happy with it, if Freddie hadn’t heard me singing that day. That night at the after party, that was heaps of fun.” “Give me a second would you,” Roger stood and walked to the door, giving you another glance before he turned the corner. You watched the doorway, not quite sure what to make of his behaviour but your questions were answered soon enough when he reappeared with Brian and John following. “So apparently we misread the situation,” Brian said, taking the seat Roger had just vacated. John sat cross legged at the end of your bed while Roger flopped onto the mattress beside you. “I can’t believe you’d think I regretted being your groupie. Have you met me?” “In our defence you seemed very upset, what were we meant to think?” “I had a shitty interview and got called a whore in a very public way, of course I’m upset. Doesn’t mean I regret anything.” “Yeah, that makes sense. Sorry, we should have realised. But we have a proposition for you. We actually thought of a way to cheer you up when we first saw the magazine this morning but then when we got here you seemed so sad and we didn’t want to make you more upset or uncomfortable,” “What Brian is trying to say is that we have an idea we think you might like.” “Jesus will you two stop beating around the bush?” “Shut up Rog, I’m getting there.” “Y/N,” Roger said cutting off the others before they could waffle any longer, “Would you like to fuck us again?” You almost choked. “Zero tact. What he means is, we thought we could cheer you up. All three of us, entirely focused on making you forget that magazine.” “Wait, I’m confused,” you massaged the bridge of your nose as you tried to catch up to them, “you saw an article that called me a whore and thought it would cheer me up to, what, be your shared fucktoy again? Yeah it was fun but-” “No, no, no, that’s not what we mean,” John said, “you’d be in control of how it all happens. It wouldn’t be like last time.” “So, you’d be my whores?” “I guess?” “The point is,” Roger chimed in, “we want to make you feel better. If that means making you cups of tea and buying you a box of chocolates that’s fine. But it could also mean you having three cocks and all the orgasms you can handle.” You looked from Roger to John to Brian and then back again, trying to work out if they were joking or not. But they all seemed sincere enough for you to actually think about their proposition. It wasn’t what you were expecting to hear from them, and it hadn’t crossed your mind until they mentioned it. But now that they had, you had to admit it sounded fun. Last time had been fun and that was when you’d been passed around and used mercilessly, so having them all again, but with a bit more say in how it happened, could only be better. Plus, part of you wanted to prove how unashamed of your groupie history you were and what better way than this? “Okay, I’m in.”

“Do we need to set any ground rules?” Brian asked. “You all know my safeword,” “Saxophone,” You laughed at the chorus of eager voices, “Yes, exactly. Other than that I don’t think there’s anything to worry about. Not like this is new exactly, is it?” “Well, no, I s’pose not.” “Exactly. And if there’s anything I don’t want I’ll tell you. So you’re,” you pointed at Roger, “going to kiss me now, while you two undress,” “Getting right to it, excellent,” Roger laughed, as he pushed himself closer to you. He didn’t waste any time, leaning in to kiss you right away. It started off a little too soft for your liking but as soon as soon as you made it clear how into it you were, kissing him back harder and pressing yourself closer, Roger reciprocated. His hands wandered down to your chest as you felt Brian and John get up, following your orders, their clothes left where they landed on the floor. Roger’s hands were soon replaced by Brian’s as he knelt behind you, and you found your head being pulled around so he could kiss you too. Roger took the opportunity to undress as Brian and John caught you between them. You couldn’t tell who was removing your clothes, only that once your jumper had been pulled over your head John was kissing you. He leaned back, tugging you along so Brian could pull your underwear off, his hands caressing your bare bum. “How do you want us?” John asked, brushing your hair back behind your ear. “Um,” you looked around at the three very naked bandmates waiting for your word, “One of you is going to eat me out. Don’t care who but I am going to cum.” “Yes Ma’am,” John laughed, lazily saluting you before rolling you onto your back and shuffling down between your thighs. You were taken by surprise when you felt his tongue run between your lips, expecting nips on your thighs and the teasing puff of his breath as he hovered just out of your reach. But he was clearly taking the job of cheering you up seriously. Brian and Roger weren’t any different, settling into the spaces on either side of you, their light touches only enhancing the feeling John had set off. You felt their fingertips on your breasts and in the ends of your hair, tugging just enough to send a shiver down your spine but not enough to make you gasp in pain. “So what would you like from us, love? What dirty little fantasies are going through your head right now?” Roger tapped his finger on the middle of your forehead. You opened your mouth but a small oh as John latched onto your clit replaced the words you’d been intending to say. “Think we’re going to need a little more than that, Y/N. C’mon, tell us what you want. Do you want us to just take turns fucking you, filling you up over and over and over.” “Or are you thinking more along the lines of last time? Taking two at a time because one cock isn’t quite enough for you now?” “Try three,” you managed to get out as you slid a hand into John’s hair to hold him in place, “want you all at once.” “Jesus,” Brian swore, dropping his lips to your neck. “I’ve been a piss-poor groupie considering the stories that reporter’s peddling. Everyone’s going to think I’ve been taking all three of you at once constantly, but we’ve never actually done that, have we? Might as well embrace my slut title and change that,” “Let us work up to it, Love” Roger said softly, recapturing your lips as he rolled your nipple between his fingers. You whined, partly from Roger and Brian’s attention and partly because John raised his head, your hips rising slightly at the loss. “Guess I should start stretching you out then,” he said offhandedly as he licked his fingers, the same way you’d seen him do a hundred times before while playing. You couldn’t stop the moan that rose up in your throat, the sound only making John chuckle against you as he lowered his head and resumed his focus on your clit.

It only took a few more minutes to have you swearing through your first orgasm. The two fingers John had inside you enough to send you over the edge as they brushed against every sensitive spot they could reach. Your neck tingled where Brian had marked it and your nipples were stiff peaks, extra sensitive to cool air after he and Roger had delighted in torturing them with teeth and tongue and fingertips. “How was that?” John asked, slowly withdrawing his fingers when he was satisfied you’d finished. “Fuck,” was all you could say, the three boys laughing, John dropping a kiss to the inside of your thigh. “Think you can handle more?” “Actually Bri I think I might be done,” “Oh. Really?” “I’m kidding.” “Thank Christ. I’m so fucking hard there’s no way I could get my pants back on anyway.” You laughed and pushed yourself to sit up, “Poor thing. I suppose you can use my cunt for a bit.” “Classic guitarists always getting first go,” “Shut it drum boy, I was about to offer to blow you but if you’re going to be like that,” “No, no, I didn’t say anything.” “He did Y/N, I heard him, blow me instead,” “Ignore Deaks, he doesn’t know what he’s talking about,” “Like a couple of – oh!” you were cut off as Brian grabbed you round the middle and wrenched you onto your hands and knees, “children. A little warning next time please,” “Sorry,” Brian leaned forward to kiss your back as his fingers trailed up the inside of your thigh, “but if I didn’t move this along we’d be stuck arguing about who gets to blow who forever.” “N-no we wouldn’t,” you stumbled over your words as Brian’s long, talented fingers pressed into you, “I made up my mind, Rog in my throat.” “What about me?” “Don’t worry Deaks, you’ll get your turn. If you want you can spank me though, or bite me or pull my hair or whatever else you can think of. You know my limits. Also we’ll need lube so if you want to go digging through my bathroom draws and find some you can. Might be a reward in it if you do.” “Spankher, please,” Brian nearly whined, “always makes her cunt so tight.” “Think I’d rather claim that reward thanks” “Alright then I’ll spank her,” “Guys! Can you stop arguing. I have holes enough for all of you, that’s kind of the point of this. And, Brian and Roger, if I don’t get both of your cocks deep, deep inside me within the next thirty seconds I will kick you both out and let John have his way with me on repeat.” A moment of silence accompanied your statement. You saw Roger, eyes wide, look over at John and then to Brian, and could only assume they were returning his dumbfounded look. “Twenty-nine, twenty-eight, twenty-seven,” Roger blinked as if waking from a daydream and hurried to kneel in front of you, one hand gliding over the length of his cock as the other reached for your hair. Your mouth fell open in a gasp as Brian suddenly filled you, holding your hips tight as he bottomed out, which gave Roger enough opportunity to push himself towards the back of your throat. There was a shift in the mattress as John got up but you were a little too preoccupied to hear the door open and shut or the sound of him rummaging through your bathroom. You only realised he’d returned when a sudden, loud spank hit you and you knew Brian’s hands were still occupied with your hips. For their parts, Roger and Brian were keeping you busy, skewered between them, not sure whether the noises coming from your own throat were moans or gags or wordless begging. Brian breathlessly laughed as John spanked you again, “So fucking tight. Bit harder?” “Y/N?” You made an assenting humming noise and nodded as much as Roger’s cock would allow which John rightly took as permission and so hit you again, harder than the last.

It was an intoxicating feeling, taking two cocks at once, all the while wanting more and knowing you’d have it before long. Brian fucked you hard and precise, as if his goal was to split you open from the inside out. Had it just been him and you alone you would have found yourself creeping further up the bed. It had happened a few times before, leaving you either hanging off the edge of the bed, or with your hands over your head and pressed against a wall in an effort to keep from banging your head. But all he managed to do was push you further onto Roger’s cock, making you gag and choke more often. Roger didn’t seem to mind that though, giving as good as Brian, firmly gripping your hair so that you couldn’t even attempt to move off him. The added impact from John’s hand just made you shiver and moan. He was the one who sensed you were getting close though, reaching under you to rub your clit and give you the extra push you needed to get over the edge. Brian wasn’t too far behind you, groaning as he tried to keep fucking you, his hips faltering as he twitched inside you and spilled his seed. You felt his hands on your backside as he spread your cheeks, leaning down to spit on your arsehole before he pulled out of you. Once Brian was finished with you, you tapped Roger’s thigh and he pulled back. “You okay?” he asked, stroking your cheek with a knuckle. “Brilliant, just thought that since I can move a bit easier, I’d take over. You look like you were close.” “Fucking yes I was close,” You giggled as you readjusted your position to be more comfortable, once again taking Roger’s cock between your lips. This time you pushed yourself lower, taking him deeper, making Roger swear above you. You pulled back again, hollowing your cheeks until you sank down once more. A strangled moan seemed to catch in Roger’s throat and it spurred you on. You reached out to cups his balls, massaging them in your hand as you took him as deep as you could and hummed. The hum turned into something akin to a squeal (though slightly muffled and choked off at the end) as the sticky cool of John’s lube covered finger teased your arsehole, tracing circles around it before slowly sinking into you. The sight seemed to be enough to finish Roger off, one hand on the back of your head to steady himself as he shot his load down your throat, pulling out towards the end so the last of it dribbled down your chin. “Now me?” John asked, pushing a second finger in with the first as Roger let you go. “Stretch me out a little more and then yes,” “Oh, no, I’m not ready for that yet. I want your tits.” “What?” “Your tits, Y/N. Turn around,” His fingers left you and you were free to move, shuffling on your knees to face him. John pressed down on your shoulder pushing you to sit back on your knees and adjusting your angle so he could slide his lubed up shaft between your breasts. He pushed them together with his palms and slid them up and down his dick as he rutted against you, spreading the sticky lube over your chest. With a slight smile at John, you dipped your head a little and kissed the tip of his cock as it moved towards your lips. “Fuck, been waiting so long for this,” he groaned, “gon-na make a mmm-ess all over you.” He gave up on speech as he neared his released, communicating exclusively in grunts and increased speed until he finished, covering your chest and sternum in ropes of cum that dripped down your skin.

You laughed as John fell back. The hardest you could remember laughing in a while. “What’s so funny?” Brian asked, reaching out to rub your shoulder. “Just thought what that reporter would say if she could see me now, naked and dripping in spunk,” you managed to get out between giggles, “her face would be fucking priceless.” The boys laughed along with you, glad you could see the funny side of the situation with the article. “Does that mean you’re feeling better?” “Yes Rog, but I’m still not done with you.” “What did you have in mind?” “Well,” you crawled over to where Roger was sitting, leant back on his hands, and placed your hand on his throat, tilting his face away from you a little so you could lick a long stripe from his jaw to his temple, “I meant it when I said I wanted all of you.” “Never doubted it, love,” he sounded a little breathless. “Just let me know when you’re all ready to go again. Not you Rog, I can see you’re ready.” “I’m good too Y/N,” “Yeah, same,” “In that case,” you shifted your position, lining yourself up with Roger and sinking down on him, squeezing his throat a little harder as you adjusted. “John, you still got that lube?” “Yes, uh, yeah here,” there was the sound of a cap flipping open and you leaned forward encouraging Roger to lay back so you could give John better access. “Hey, Rog, can you spread your legs a little wider,” “S’pose so, just don’t kneel on my bollocks or anything,” “God give me a second, the thought of that just made mine try and jump up inside me,” You giggled as John shuffled closer, using his fingers to spread some more of the lube over you and to keep stretching you out. “What about me, Y/N?” “I haven’t forgotten you Bri. I want every inch of your cock shoved so far down my throat I can feel you for a week. Just let me get used to the others first, yeah? Still feels kinda odd having two of you at once since we’ve not done it much.” Brian nodded, contenting himself with running his fingers through your hair as he waited. John, having pulled his fingers from you and slicked up his dick with more lube, sank into you slowly, his hand on your back to keep you bent forward. It suddenly felt hard for you to pull in a new breath as you tried to adjust to the feeling of both of them, especially when John gave an experimental thrust, fucking you slowly to make sure it felt okay for everyone. Brian talked softly, reminding you to breathe and telling you how well you were doing, until you were better in control of your lungs and ready for more. “Are you sure you want me as well?” “Yes. Lets show that parasite just how far I’ll go, huh?” Roger laughed, “that’s the spirit.”

Brian didn’t need more convincing than that, though it did take a little trial and error to find the best way to accommodate all three of them. Brian tried perching his arse on the headboard but Roger whinged about “seeing nothing but Bri’s ballsack flopping about. And I know you see things when you’re gangbanging but that is too much.” In the end Brian stood next to the bed by Roger’s head, enough to the side that Roger’s view wasn’t impeded but still close enough so that the angle wouldn’t strain your neck. He gathered your hair into a messy ponytail as he pulled your mouth onto his cock, letting you work yourself further down his shaft as slowly as you needed, checking in with you every now and again to make sure you could take more. The other two were mostly still as you adjusted to Brian, though once or twice they’d given a small thrust or shifted slightly and made you whine. Once you had Brian buried as deep in your throat as he could go you paused for a few seconds and then pulled back again, strings of saliva breaking on your lips. “How was that?” “Good,” you gasped, “New. Kinda weird but very fucking good.” That didn’t really explain anything but you weren’t sure how to describe the nearly overwhelming fullness, the sudden heat, the tension in your belly which you couldn’t pinpoint as either anticipation or nerves or just because you were stretched open on three cocks. “And that’s without us doing anything,” “I know,” you grinned, “I’m excited. Why didn’t we try this sooner? But now you guys can cut loose. I’m not sure I’ll be much use in like riding you properly or whatever. Just don’t know my brain can focus on keeping both of you in my holes while I’m thinking about blowing Bri well. So, just fuck me however you can and we’ll see how it goes.” “Don’t worry, we’ll make you feel good,” John said, rubbing your back softly. “Yeah, course we will, love. And if ends up being shit then we can just take turns instead,” You nodded and took a deep breath before leaning forward to take Brian again. You controlled the pace once more, bobbing up and down his shaft, sucking on his tip, as the other two figured out their rhythm. It was a strange sensation to start. It felt clumsy and more than a little awkward, especially when John mentioned how he could feel Roger inside you. But that eased as they adjusted and worked out how best to fuck you. John held your hips as he plunged into you, each thrust harder than the last as his confidence rose and he found out what you liked most. Roger’s hands moved over your skin rather than staying in once place, palming your breasts and teasing your nipples between his fingertips before sliding down your side to grasp your waist and then back up to your breasts. You were rocked on his cock with each of John’s pounding thrusts, which only made you moan around Brian’s. You let instinct take over there, one hand stroking from his base up to meet your lips as you swallowed him deeper. His hips jolted when you whined or moaned and before long you dropped your hand away from his shaft, instead grabbing his arse to keep yourself steady. He pulled you off him again and you could feel the spit on your chin. “Forgot what a fucking incredible cocksucker you are.” Brian groaned, “But can I take over? Fuck your throat?” “Yeah, okay,” You had time for another breath and then you were pushed down again, right to the base. “There we go,” he groaned, pulling on your hair, “Gonna make you feel so fucking good.” Your hum was choked off and ended in a gag as Brian ground his hips into your face. That seemed to be the tipping point though. The moment all three of them forgot about awkward views or who was positioned where and became entirely consumed with fucking you deep and hard. You were glad to let them lead, grabbing you, pinching and pulling and squeezing every inch of you they could reach. And all the while spearing you on their dicks, keeping you in a cycle of mounting pleasure as they found all your most responsive spots inside and out. You felt your orgasm building again, the heat rising, getting more urgent as you got closer and closer. The sounds you made were muffled by Brian but that didn’t stop you making them, moaning with every pounding thrust. As you neared the edge Brian pulled you off his cock so they could all hear you properly, their encouragement mixing in your lust addled brain and creating a wall of noise that pushed you over the edge with a loud cry. And yet they didn’t stop. Brian waited until your orgasm was reduced to aftershocks that made you wince and whine and then cut off your air as he entered your throat again, resuming the long, deep strokes that made you gag until he came, holding you down as he emptied himself completely.

As soon as the other two didn’t have to worry about giving Brian access to your mouth they adjusted your position, John pushing on your back until you were bent over. Roger attached his lips to your throat as they simultaneously fucked into you, the change of angle pushing Roger’s cock against you in a way that had you seeing spots. You cried out again as Brian lay a slap on your arse. “Fuck, fuck, fuck,” John grunted as he came too, unable to hold out any longer though he didn’t withdraw from you either. His hips slowed a bit and he whined softly but he kept fucking you. “Rog,” you panted, trying to get him to finish too. “You’ve got another one in you, c’mon love,” You whined but nodded, the familiar sensation already tightening in the pit of your stomach. Again the three of them encouraged you, John wrapping his hand around your waist to find your clit, Brian reaching under you to squeeze your breast as his other hand came down on your arse again. They gave you no option but to cum, shivering between them. Finally Roger let go too, moaning into your ear as he filled you up.

It took a moment to disentangle everyone, John being careful not to go too fast and hurt you, but finally you were able to collapse together, sweaty and panting, spread out over the room. “So, cheered up now?” Brian asked from where he’d lain down on the carpet You peered over the edge of the bed at him, “Think so. Thanks for that, it was fun.” “Any time, love,” Roger chuckled from the end of the bed, patting your knee, “and I mean that.” “I’m not you groupie anymore,” “Never said you were,” “Then what?” “What Rog means,” John cut in from where he’d spread out on you window seat, “is that if you ever need cheering up or to let out some frustrations, we’re here. We’re happy to help,” “Does your help always involve a gangbang?” “Not always,” Brian laughed. “Well, a lot of the time,” Roger added with a wink. “I’ll keep it in mind,” you chuckled, “I’ll have to face my family at some point and there’s a high chance I’ll leave upset and frustrated so, we’ll see. Wonder how Freddie’s getting on with those calls.” “I’ll go give him a ring and find out,” Roger said, half groaning as he stood and stretched. He didn’t bother grabbing any of his discarded clothes before he left. “I’ll take Rog his pants,” John sighed as he got up and replaced his own underwear, exiting the room with an eyeroll, Roger’s underwear pinched between his thumb and pointer. “And I’ll...stay here?” Brian said, “unless you need anything?” “Nah, I’m going to jump in the shower. Let the other two know that’s where I am, would you?” “If you’re doing that, can I have the bed?” “Sure Bri,” you laughed, “as long as you promise to change the sheets when you wake up.”

#my writing #my fics #queen fanfic #queen smut #roger taylor x reader #roger taylor smut #brian may x reader #brian may smut #john deacon x reader #john deacon smut

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myselftalkingtomyself · 4 years ago

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Happy 10th Anniversary, love.

this gif is not mine, all the credits to the owner.

Tommy Shelby x F!reader

summary: The war against the Italians makes your anniversary plans cancelled, but Tommy Shelby surprises you to repair it.

warning: fluffy as hell bc romantic tommy lives in mine mind for free, mention of smut

w/c:1122

A/N: i got inspired by that dinner between tommy and jessie eden in s4. i wasn’t sure about this since the thing with luca started bc of grace and here she doesn’t exist, but here it’s and now i want to make an HC about tommy’s romantic side. english is not my native language, sorry for any mistakes.

The smell of fresh flowers was the first thing that hit your senses by waking up in the morning light. As you opened your eyes, you saw a bouquet of flowers and a small black box under neath an envelope with your name written on the pillow next to yours. You felt a shy smile form on your face as you smelled the flowers and opened the note.

"I left to settle some business and come back early. Charlie picks you up at 8:00 to meet me in his yard. Happy anniversary, love.

Tommy."

Before all the trouble with Luca Changretta starts and forces you and the Shelby family to go back to Small Heath, you were excited to celebrate your 10th anniversary with Tommy. You had already talked and planned with Tommy a trip, like a second honeymoon, but after the letter with the black hand and John's death you didn't mention anything else about it and decided to resume the plans when it was all over. And with all the tension hanging in the air you thought Tommy had forgotten the date.

You supported the flowers and the note back on Tommy's pillow and turned your attention to the velvet box. Inside was the most beautiful and delicate piece of jewellery you've ever seen. It was a silver necklace with a crescent moon shaped pendant encrusted with diamonds. It was simple compared to other jewellery Tommy presented you with, but you had a suspicion of why. One night, you commented on the sunrise tattoo he had on his chest and how you wanted something with a moon to match his sun. Even get a moon tattoo on you. He just laughed.

You got up and tried the necklace in the only mirror nearby. The sunlight hit the moon that rested on your chest and made reflections through the walls of the room. Luckily, you had brought your favourite blue dress that would match your new gift to wear that night. You didn't take off the necklace at any point in the day, eagerly awaiting nightfall.

Charlie arrived on time at 8:00 to pick you up. He offered his arm to accompany you and you accepted him with a smile. "So, what's he up to?"

"I'm not going to spoil the surprise." Charlie responds with a little smile.

He accompanied you to one of the sheds that had the doors closed, the only one that had a yellow light coming out through the entrance cracks. Charlie opened the door and gave you a way into a setting you never thought of seeing in Charlie Strong's yard. Tommy was sitting at a perfectly well-organized dining table, surrounded by several candles and flowers scattered throughout the shed. You walked towards the chair intended for you and noticed the presence of Curly, who pulled chair for you.

"Good evening, Mrs. Shelby" Tommy said before he smoak his cigarette. Tommy loved to call you Mrs. Shelby, probably only you noticed the pride and love that melted in his mouth by saying those words. His eyes leave yours to look at the necklace on your chest and with a small provocative smile, he turns his attention to you once again. "Beautiful. Your necklace is very beautiful too.”

"Thank you, did you like it? My husband gave it to me, he has great taste." Curly spent a few seconds fixing the gramophone while you and Tommy couldn't take their eyes off each other, drinking each other. You didn't used to show affection in front of other people, but you were so absorbed in excitement and impressed by the impromptu surprise dinner that you couldn't help but fall in love once again with Tommy Shelby's romantic side.

"Come on Curly, they want to be alone" You felt your face burn and stared at your hands. Charlie pulled Curly, walking to the exit. You turned to both of them and thanked, still a little embarrassed.

"I thought you forgot." You turned your focus to the other side of the table to find Tommy's face. "I would never forget. I just changed my plans at the last minute. We can't leave Small Heath for safety." You nodded in agreement. It wasn't worth lowering your guard for one night and risking your lives at Luca's mercy, even if you've been waiting for this day for so long.

"Hey" He reached out to touch your hand above the table. "We can travel next year. We have a lifetime of anniversaries to do that." With the war with the Italians going on you weren't so sure of it, but it was better not to mention the fact that night. That night wasn't about mob wars, it was about you two. A night to left the shadow of fear and death that hung over you in the last few weeks aside.

You have recalled some important moments in your relationship over the years; the first date, the first kiss, and obviously your wedding day. Both nervous in case something bad happened, but eager to call each other husband and wife. After finishing the meal, Tommy put on your favourite album to play in the gramophone. He stopped in front of you and reached his hand out in a silent invitation to a dance. Tommy stroked one of yours hands as you brushed your fingertips on the back of his head with the other, the rhythm of your bodies was slow.

"I planned tonight in a different way." Tommy said when he touched your forehead with his.

"Yeah? How?"

"Spending the night at London's best restaurant with a bottle of champagne to celebrate how lucky I am to have you by my side for so long.” He pushed his face away to approach his lips of your ear.

"Then we'd go to a nice hotel room and dance a little until I lay on the bed and finally do what I've been waiting all day to do." Tommy whispered, causing chills down your skin.

"You can still do that." You whispered back. "Here, London or anywhere else, just need to be the two of us, uh?"

He responded with one of the passionate kisses that, of the few loves you had in life, only Tommy was able to give and make your legs falter. The feeling of innocent affection has lost place to desire. His hands, going up and down your body were keys that opened so many doors to sensations that you never thought possible to feel.

"Happy 10th anniversary, Mrs. Shelby." Tommy smiled as he pulled your waist and took you two into the night, back to the little room that has become a refuge for you in recent weeks.

"Happy 10th anniversary, Mr. Shelby."

#tommy shelby #tommy shelby x reader #tommy shelby fic #tommy shelby imagines #tommy shelby headcanon #tommy shelby x y/n #tommy shelby x you #Peaky Blinders #peaky blinder fanfic #peaky blinders one shot #peaky blinders imagine #peaky blinders headcanon #thomas shelby x reader #thomas shelby imagine #thomas shelby #thomas shelby headcanons #thomas shelby headcanon

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littlemisslipbalm · 5 years ago

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“I am not going to join your band” Part 3

AKA “I’ll only join your band if you promise not to kick me out if things don’t work out”

Me trying to make this have a happy ending: *jumping through hoops of my own design*

I wrote this ^^ before I wrote part 3 and boy was I right, it was complicated and I hope I did it justice, LMK what y’all think, I love you all asking for part 3 and giving me feedback. All the support means to much

Also peep the gif WITH Mitch I’m crying, they’re both smiling at y/n in the soundboard room

Word Count: 5.0k? | Warnings: angsty ASF, some crying, some yelling, more making out, even some mentions of smut (oh yeah we’re getting there - no actual sex though), swearing

I tried to make it FLUFF but there had to be drama :/ (I don’t like conflict but that’s like lowkey how stories work sadly)

Part 1 | Part 2

When Mitch pulled away from the hug, you felt yourself at a crossroads. You knew Mitch was right. While kissing Harry had been nice, you needed to think about why you were doing it and what it would mean for you and Harry.

You knew you were always going to love Mitch and you were working on separating the romantic feelings you had for him and the best friend feelings you had for him. But you weren’t sure if getting involved with Harry would help that process or just confuse it. That’s why you had to talk with Harry about this, where he stood exactly, and there wasn’t time, lunch was over.

Mitch stalked off ahead of you with a final: “Just...be careful.”

Moments after he disappeared through the recording door, Harry walked up behind you, placing a hand on your shoulder.

You were still standing in the middle of the hallway, your brain racing at everything Mitch had said and every moment you had spent with Harry in the past couple of weeks. You hadn’t really thought of Harry as being anything more than a friend. But there you two were, kissing in a storage closet five minutes ago.

“We need to talk,” you both said simultaneously. But, just as you were about to speak again, a technician rushed up beside you two and started to talk rapidly to Harry, needing assistance on something that sounded important. You raised your brows when he looked at you, his silent question of whether he could leave, “Go, it can wait.”

In that moment, you felt your unimportance in that studio - no Harry or Mitch to turn to.

This had started as a tag along to spend time with your best friend, in hopes to not get left behind, then it had turned to a light torture of watching said best friend falling for a girl who wasn’t yourself, but somewhere amidst all of that was Harry, always giving you a reason to come back. If not for him, you probably would have stopped tagging along after the first day.

He was the one to tell you to come back a second day. He was the one retuning the piano so you had something to do. He was the one liking your tune and turning into a song for his album. He was the one asking you to join the band. But was he the one for you? And if he wasn’t, and you told him that, was that the end of your time at the studio?

God, you just wished you were able to know what he was thinking. What was the reason behind his kiss? Was it something meaningless or meaningful to him. Because you had realized you had wanted to join the band, not for Mitch, not for Harry, but for yourself and you didn’t want whatever had just happened between you and Harry to come between your chance.

You sat in one of the lounge rooms for the rest of the day, you didn’t feel like watching the band record or having Mitch next to you whispering side comments while you sat in boring technical meetings. You wanted to be alone. And alone you were, no one came to look for you until the end of the day. You sat on the floor of the room, legs crossed, your body still, but your mind alive with all of your thoughts.

At around 8:30, it was Mitch who walked through the door and sighed at the sight of you. You had texted him where you were when he had asked a couple minutes ago. “Ready to go? Sarah’s coming with us, if you don’t mind,” he gruffly said, obviously not past your earlier conversation. It had left a bad taste in your mouth, the whole situation, not being in a comfortable place with your best friend wasn’t ideal.

“I didn’t like how you spoke to me earlier.” you started and then sighed, “And I didn’t like how we left things..” You stayed in your spot, sat in the middle of the room, face turned to stare at Mitch in the doorway.

“I admit, my tone wasn’t my favorite. I was flustered,” Mitch said finally, walking into the room, door swinging shut behind him.

“You could apologize,” you simply stated, not satisfied. You loved Mitch, but you weren’t a push over. “You basically said I was a prostitute, Mitch, with that harem remark.”

“I truly, didn’t mean it like that,” he sighed and ran a hand through his shoulder length hair. He decided to take a seat, mirroring your position. He moved like a cat, long limbs slowly folding in on themselves, making him appear much smaller than he was. “I’m sorry that’s what you thought, it just,” he paused, “was weird seeing you like that. You’re like my little sister -,” he stopped talking at the look on your face.

You blinked and looked away. Do not cry right now, c’mon. You knew that’s how he felt about you, it just always hurt to hear him say it. You brushed a strand of hair behind your ear. “Yeah, I get it, you’re forgiven, anyway.” You regretted even asking for an apology now.

Mitch wouldn’t let it go, he knew that the two of you had to have this conversation for once, rather than sidestepping it every time.

“I know you’re in love with me, Y/N, and I’m sorry that I don’t feel the same way about you. I know we never talk about it, but we’re both possibly at the beginning of new serious relationships right now and I think we need to talk about this.”

It’s happening. He was right, you never talked about it, and you knew he was right about needing to talk about it, too. He was always the mature one.

“And what if I’m not?” you replied stubbornly, as much as you knew he was right, you couldn’t stop the words from leaving your mouth.

“What?” Mitch was clearly confused.

“What if I’m not on the verge of a new relationship and that kiss was just a one time thing with Harry. Then I’m left here alone and embarrassed while you ride off into the sunset with Sarah and your new life. Have you ever thought about how this all might be affecting me, put my romantic love for you aside, have you ever thought about how leaving your best friend behind might affect her, Mitch! I’ve thought about it and it sucks! It sucks because you’re the only person I’ve got, the only person who’s ever given a damn about me and always been there. Soon you won’t be. My tombstone won’t even read “Happy” just “Uneventful” and “Boring.”

You practically were screaming and you had no idea when all these feelings had bubbled you the surface, but tears were running down your face now. You had never been good with confrontation.

“And I’ve been working on it.”

Mitch still sat in a stunned silence. Not used to you losing your cool with him.

“I’ve been working on getting over being in love with you, but a lifetime of being in love with you doesn’t just go away, not because you find a girl, not because I kiss a boy, but because I work on separating feelings and ideas in my mind. I had let the line be blurred between best friend and boyfriend, when you weren’t actually my boyfriend.” You paused, “I thought you were my soulmate since I was fourteen and you never even noticed how I looked at you.” You had started fierce, but you ended softly, almost whimpering out the last words.

“I knew,” he sighed, “I knew when you made sure to come to all my shows in high school. You never missed a single one.”

“Then why didn’t you tell me to stop? Why didn’t you set up boundaries?” You pleaded with Mitch, searching for an answer from him to make sense of everything.

“Because I was young and no one had ever done that for me, no one cared about me like you did before and it felt so good to not be ignored or overlooked. To be someone’s whole world, it felt nice.”

“But...look what happened.”

“It got out of hand, but I thought you’d find a guy when you went off to college and forget about loving me like that.”

“But that’s not what happened,” you both sat silent for a few moments, “I can’t lose you, Mitch, and I’m okay just being the best friend.”

“I can’t lose you either, Y/N. I’m so sorry I never addressed it sooner, it wasn’t fair of me to keep you on the line all these years. And I’m not going to leave you behind, I’m sorry if I have been neglecting our friendship with the album and Sarah.”

Mitch reached out and took your hand, rubbing it softly with his thumb. You noticed no butterflies when he did this and you squeezed his hand gently back.

“So, best friend, as much as I would love to ride home with you and your girl, I think there’s someone else I really need to talk to.”

You were always quick to move past fights with Mitch, they were never like this, of course, but you had said your piece and so had Mitch, seeing as he reverted back to his natural silent state. This definitely was a big step in the right direction for you to finally move past your romantic feelings for Mitch. Some closure.

Mitch nodded and you both stood up. “We should hang out soon, just the two of us, do something… friendly,” Mitch said softly. You smiled and nodded.

You knew this had been a wake up call for him, too. You hadn’t really hung out outside of the studio since he’d started seeing Sarah more exclusively, meaning weekly movie nights, ‘what’s in the fridge’ dinner nights, and new music mondays had all fallen by the wayside. You knew that he’d start being there for you more after this whole conversation, because that’s who Mitch was, he listened and he followed through.

You gave him a quick hug, happier with the outcome of this conversation than the last, even if this one had involved you shouting a little bit. Then, you split off from him in search of Harry.

He was in the recording area of the studio, sitting, staring off into space with his guitar resting in his lap.

“Hi,” you said carefully. He twitched his head at the sound and looked over to see you. “Have you been crying?” He asked immediately, standing up and setting the guitar on its stand. He crossed to you, quick to your side.

You shook your head, “No, well yes, but they were angry tears, more than sad.”

“Are you alright?” Harry still was concerned, angry wasn’t much better than sad.

“Just had it out with Mitch, it’s better now.”

“About earlier?” Harry led you to sit on the piano bench with him.

“No, about him, and me, it’s been a long time coming, but we’ve got it all out in the open now. He’s going to try to be a better friend, I think. And I’m going to try to be just his best friend.”

“Yeah?” Harry urged you to say more.

“But it did start about earlier, at least,” you ran a hand through your hair, “about what he had said to me earlier, after he had walked in on us.”

“What had he said?” Harry continued to inquire, trying to understand what he had missed.

“He was warning me not to be with you for the wrong reasons and to be wary of your intentions, I guess. He cares about us both, doesn’t want either of us to get hurt and I think it was also weird for him to see us in such a compromising position.”

“Why do you think he wanted you to be wary of my intentions?” Harry tilted his head, this comment not really making sense to him.

“Well, what are your intentions?” You didn’t want to mention the ‘harem’ comment, you knew Mitch had said it in the heat of the moment and it would only upset Harry.

“I like you, isn’t it obvious?” Harry said staring directly into your eyes.

“Um..” His blunt statement caught you off guard.

Harry ducked his head and puffed a laugh out of his mouth, almost in disbelief, “No, I guess it’s not.”

You sat there, silent, still no idea how to respond. Harry scratched his head and smiled at you, “You’re gorgeous and fantastic at everything you do. You’re witty and kind, fiercely loyal and never fail to bring a smile to my face, even when you’re crying or I’m crying. Why wouldn’t I be attracted to you?”

Still you remained silent. “C’mon, Y/N. Say something, please. I just laid it all out for you.”

You nodded and tried to streamline your thoughts. Today had been a lot, overwhelming to say the least. “I’ve never had someone feel this way about me, it’s a lot to take in. And...I like you too, Harry, but-”

“Don’t say ‘but’” he pleaded.

“But,” you sighed, “I don’t want you to go through the same thing I did, being strung along by someone who can’t give you what you need. I don’t know how to love someone who isn’t Mitch, I want to, I really, really do, but it’s going to take time, and I like you enough to not want to hurt you.”

“Then let me teach you,” Harry said quickly, taking your hands in his, “Let me be the one to teach you to love someone who isn’t Mitch. That someone is me, by the way.”

You laughed at his final remark, still feeling overwhelmed and unsure.

“And I’m okay with going slow,” he shrugged his shoulders, “we don’t even have to label this. But when I’m with you, here, everyday, I feel at home and when you’re gone, I miss you. You’re constantly on my mind and I’m always looking for your approval. What would hurt me the most is if you don’t give us a chance. Give me a chance to prove to you that you can love someone else and they can love you back, properly.”

His eyes were begging you to say ‘yes’. His hands were clasped tightly around yours, tugging you closer to him.

After everything he said, you wanted to say yes. But, you were scared. You were scared because trying something new, taking a step into the unknown, it was scary sometimes.

But then, you thought back to when Harry had sat with you as you cried over Mitch and how he’d helped you through that moment of weakness. How you had known that night that you could trust him to be there for you. With Harry by your side, maybe you wouldn’t have to be so scared of the unknown, because you wouldn’t be alone anymore.

“Only if you promise not to kick me out of the band if things don’t work out.” You smiled at Harry’s slight confusion. Then his confusion turned into a huge grin, almost every one of his teeth on display for you.

“I’m sorry, I can’t promise you that…” he said mischievously, making it your turn for a look of confusion, “But I’ll raise you one. I promise that things will work out and you’ll stay in the band.”

You rescinded a hand from his grasp and swatted his bicep. “Has anyone ever told you, you’re very cheeky?”

“Almost all the time! And look at that, you’re already speakin’ my language,” he smiled sweetly at you and winked.

“Oh, shut up!” You laughed and went to swat him again, but instead he caught your wrist and brought it down to your side.

“Fine,” he said matter of factly and leaned into your lips, kissing you for a second time today.

He was an amazing kisser, better than anyone you’d ever kissed before, at least, which really wasn’t saying a lot, but you could tell he was experienced. You didn’t think you’d ever get over his warmth either. It was all consuming.

This time it was you who’s tongue asked for entrance to the other’s mouth. Harry gladly obliged as he pulled you closer to him on the bench.

You liked how quickly you and Harry could go from a serious topic to having fun, you’d said what needed to be said and now you were enjoying each other.

It was breathless between you and Harry. His hands ghosting over every part of your body and yours glued to his deliciously soft curls. Harry’s lips began to travel away from yours and a whine came from the back of your throat. Harry ‘tsk’ed against your jaw, but continued to leave open mouth kisses down the side of your neck.

“Oh” was all you said as he began to suck persistently at the base of your neck, right on top of your collarbone. It felt nice, really fucking nice and you felt a hand fall down onto the top of your thigh and squeeze it. This shot electricity through your entire body. The jolt didn’t stop Harry from continuing to suck along your neck, you just felt him pause for a moment, a smirk ghosting against your neck, nipping on the spot below his lips.

After what felt like hours, Harry kissed back up to your lips and then pulled away.

You were attempting to catch your breath when you said, “Is that what you call taking it slow?”

“I wasn’t hearing any complaints?” He responded as his smirk responded, shrugging his shoulders once again.

“No, no complaints,” you moved one of your legs so that both were on one side of the piano stool and scooted into Harry’s chest. He wrapped his arms around you as you snuggled your head into his chest. It had been a long day for both of you, as you thought back to lunch with Harry crying in the storage closet. He kissed the top of your hair and rested his chin on top of your head, beginning to stroke your arm lazily with his fingertips.

You sat in silence, breathing in each other’s presence. You also couldn’t believe how nice he smelled, even after a whole day of work. This man was magic, you thought.

Harry began to laugh softly and you shifted your head to look at him. “You know, I was planning on telling you today, before this all happened.” He continued after taking a finger and running it against the slope of your nose and tapping the tip, “It’s why I had been in such a good mood, had finished the lyrics, and was going to play it for you, but then I got all in my head. And then we were in the storage room and you were being so good to me and then we were kissing and then Mitch walked in and then you ran off and-.”

You cut off his ramble, “I think I got the rest, I was there, babe.” Heat quickly ran to your cheeks at your use of a pet name. Harry noticed it too and echoed it, “Babe? You just called me ‘babe’?”

“No, definitely not,” you tried unconvincingly.

“Oh, I like that,” he continued to tease you, echoing ‘babe’ once more, your face growing redder every second.

“Wait, you were going to play me what?” You suddenly circled back to the first part of Harry’s little rant. He took his hand away from your arm and used it to brush back a strand of hair that had gotten out of place on your head, “Sweet Creature, I was planning on serenading you and then telling you how I felt.”

“You’re fucking with me, that song isn’t about me,” you scoffed and turned your head away, feeling shy at Harry’s intense stare. He was so passionate and it came through in his big, bright eyes. They could be intimidating at times.

“Honest,” he said, “It was your tune after all, can’t believe you’d think I’d write about someone else with your own music.”

“I don’t know, I thought I was just helping you with a song,” you said sheepishly.

“I was looking at you the first time I said the words ‘sweet creature’” Harry persisted, still in disbelief that you hadn’t caught on to his crush on you until he had spelled it out, but then it dawned on him, you had never had someone pine after you.

In that moment he knew that he wanted to show you all the wonderful things that came with being liked by someone, and being intimate with someone who wanted you back. He didn’t care if you were getting over someone else, because he was going to be there to show you how you deserved to be treated and in turn he knew you’d eventually see him as more than a cute, nice guy friend who knew how to kiss.

You sat there as if you were seeing Harry with new eyes. His expression was earnest and he looked down at you brightly. You bit your lip to slow down the smile about to erupt on your face. You hadn’t felt this excited in a long time.

It felt good to be in a man’s arms who looked at you with such great care, almost as if you were the reason his world turned and he didn’t want that to stop, even if you knew it wasn’t true, his eyes insisted it was. It felt good to be in the embrace of a man who wrote you a song and made you smile and laugh. It felt good to be with a man who took your breath away and also got his taken away from you.

You reached up to Harry’s prominent cheekbone and danced your fingertips along his face. He had grown silent at your touch. Your fingers moved up to smooth one of his large brows and stopped at his brow bone. Harry closed his eyes when you touched his brow bone, your touch so close to his eyes. You rested there for a moment and then moved back down his face, traveling over his slightly gaunt cheeks again.

His eyes fluttered open and the sounds of your breathing filled the air, his soft panting slightly louder than your controlled quiet breaths. It seemed your soft caress was having an effect on him.

Harry loved intimate touch. It was taking all of his self-control to keep from nuzzling into your delicate hand on his face, wanting you to explore without his interference.

You continued to slide your hand down his face, over some light scruff, to the curve of his cupid’s bow. Harry parted his lips at this touch, unable to keep his lungs from hitching. You bit your lip again, noting your effect on him. You traced your thumb around the outline of Harry’s mouth, from his cupid’s bow, to one side, and then onto his plush lower lip.

You kept your thumb there, but pulled down slightly, Harry’s mouth opening further. He restrained the whimper in the back of his throat. You weren’t trying to get any reaction out of him, you were simply using your hands to look at his face, tracing him into your sensory memory.

When you pushed your thumb back up, putting his lip back into place, you felt his tongue peak out and touch you. You looked into his green eyes and he only looked back at you. You were in control. You pushed your thumb a millimeter further and Harry took it softly into his mouth, his tongue touching it sweetly and then he closed his mouth, creating a kiss on your thumb. You then removed your thumb from against his puckered lips and placed your exploring hand onto his thigh, giving you leverage to put yourself at eye level with Harry.

“You are so beautiful,” you said slowly, breathing out a breath you didn’t think you had been holding. His face lit up at your remark and he leaned forward to give you one more sweet kiss, “And so are you. Let’s get you home.”

The next few weeks felt like a whirlwind. You were constantly doing something. When you weren’t busy working on the album at the studio, Harry was sneaking you off to secluded places in the building to pepper you with kisses or whispering sweet nothings in your ear in between takes. He drove you home every night, walking you to your door and kissing you hard before you went inside, sometimes he’d come in with you and stay the night, cuddling and falling asleep in each other’s arms. Harry also took you out when he could, showing you little holes in the wall you’d never heard of and surprising you with presents that you always told him were too nice. Everything was coming so natural between you two and Harry treated you so well, it made being with him extremely fun and easy.

Mitch and you were doing best friend things again, too, movie nights and music recommendations, calling each other about random shit you’d seen on the news and couldn’t believe. You weren’t pining after him anymore. You loved him still, but you now knew what reciprocated romantic feelings looked like with Harry and you didn’t need or want that from Mitch anymore. Mitch had talked to Harry after you had explained what happened that night and he had given the big brother spiel to Harry, but was convinced when he heard the way Harry talked about you. He hadn’t realized how Harry had felt before then either. Harry joked that the two of you clearly had never seen a romcom before, because you were both “thick” when it came to flirting.

Today was no different from the rest, Harry had his arm slung around your shoulder as you were pressed into his side on the soundboard room’s couch, your arm reaching up to play with his fingertips. His mouth was against your ear, whispering, almost inaudibly, about how good you looked today and how he wanted to kiss you so badly and you were giggling at his borderline dirty words.

Nobody took any real notice, especially because this had been happening for weeks now. Whenever Mitch saw you two like this, he smiled with closed lips, but he seemed genuinely happy. He was happy that everything was working out in the best way possible.

Lunchtime was always fun because now it was time for you and Harry to sneak off to the first place you had kissed. Except it wasn’t so sneaky, literally everyone knew where you were going and what you were going to do. The minute you were inside the room, Harry would press you against the door, slamming it shut. His lips were on yours in an instant.

Today, he grabbed behind your knee and hiked it up around his hips, pressing himself closer to you. You both groaned at the way your bodies fit together. “Mmph, Fuck, Babe,” Harry groaned before moving to kiss your neck. You only whined in response, fisting a part of his shirt in one hand and some strands of his hair in the other.

You had worn a tank top today, so Harry was able to kiss all across your collarbone, he pulled down one side of the tank and your bra strap, exposing more naked skin. “Can you feel what you do to me?” Harry asks, lips ghosting over your skin, hands gripping your hips closer to his body. You can feel him pressing into you beneath his trousers.

“Can I?” you ask, he pulls away from his work on your neck and looks into your eyes. “Y/N, you don’t have to…” his tone quickly softened. The two of you had only done heavy makeout sessions and some topless groping, but nothing below the belt, yet. “But, I want to take care of you,” you stated simply, meeting his gaze with lust blown out eyes.

He sighed, “Oh, darling.” He reached up to brush your hair into place, it was always getting so messy when you made out.

“My body wants nothing more than for you to take care of me, but one, if you blow me right now, I don’t know how I will get through the rest of the day without loving up on you every second,” you laughed at his words and rolled your eyes.

“And two, when it’s our first time, I want it to be our first time doing everything together, don’t want me to get a head start.”

You wanted to be serious about him being so sweet about your first time together, but you couldn’t ignore the sexual pun he’d just made. You burst out into unrestrained laughter and Harry looked at you, concerned. His eyebrows were knit together as he watched you laughing your head off.

“What?”

“Oh my god, Harry, did you hear yourself?”

“Thought I was being sweet,” he puffed indignantly.

“Head,” you said in between laughs, “Start.”

It clicked in his mind and he rolled his eyes at your immaturity. “You catch that, it’s not even funny, but you don’t catch my flirting for weeks...makes you wonder...” he trails off.

“You’re so mean to me! Guess you don’t want anymore kisses,” you stick your tongue out at him and he smiles.

The more time you spent together, the more your silly side kept coming out with him. Harry loved it, he loved that you could be intellectual and passionate, but also pick out some unintentional innuendo pun at the end of his heartfelt sentiment about your sex life together.

You readjusted yourselves to leave and as you exited Harry said, “What am I going to do with you?”

You held one of his hands and twirled in the hallway, smiling back at him as he walked behind you. You were like a dream, his dream. He hadn’t realized how much he’d needed someone until you’d come into his life, being there for him, being the lovely person he’d come to know. You were wonderful and you were his. And he, in turn, was yours.

Hope you enjoyed part 3!

@imagine-that-1975

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niall-is-my-dream · 4 years ago

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Something Beautiful - Epilogue

So, this was something that I started writing ages ago and has been on hiatus. I've had this epilogue sitting in my drafts for a year! I was going to write a chapter to go before this but it hasn't happened so I've decided to post this and end the fic.

I hope you like it! Catch up on the link below.

https://niall-is-my-dream.tumblr.com/post/615170836129808384/something-beautiful-masterlist

Thanks

Em x

8 years later

Standing at the kitchen island you chopped away at the ingredients you needed for dinner later. You were having a bbq so you prepped all the salad and got the meat marinating in the fridge. It was early afternoon and the sun was blazing in through the patio doors that were open and welcoming in the warmth of the summer.

From here you could see Monty hiding from the sun under the patio table and chairs where it was shady and cool. He was getting on a bit now, just turned ten years old, still lively like he was as a pup but lazy like an old man to.

From this position you could also see your greatest achievement, your six year old twins Jack and Izzy. You may have carried them for 34 weeks before they were born early, but they were the spitting image of their father. Izzy in particular had eyes that were identical to Niall's, her book obsession however she got from you.

Both were obviously musical like their father, but Jack had excelled in football and you'd spent the morning watching him run around the local football pitch.

Wiping your hands on a cloth you made your way out to the garden, Jack was at the end of the garden practicing some kick ups and Izzy was busy bouncing around on the trampoline.

"Hey you two, shall we take Monty out in a bit when the weather has cooled down?"

"Yeah, when is Dad back with Grandad and Aoife?" Jack called back to you.

"Not sure, game won't finish for maybe another hour and it depends on if they can get through the crowds quickly, and if your Dad chooses to stop and talk to everyone he knows!" You replied smiling.

Niall had gone to watch Derby play at Chelsea today with his Dad Bobby and his partner Aoife. Checking your watch you saw that the game would probably just be starting the second half so you had plenty of time to walk Monty and be back to start cooking.

Just over an hour later and you were all walking towards Wandsworth Common. When you and Niall had first starting discussing buying your first house together there had been no doubt that you wanted to stay close to where both your flats were. With easy access to the tube and shops you had also decided you didn't want to be far from the Common.

It was there on a cold February day that you had tripped over Monty's lead and Niall had spoken to you for the first time. Sadly the pub you first laid eyes on each other in was closed now and was going to be turned into a hairdressers of all things.

But the Common held a special place in both your hearts.

It was where you would go in the early stages of your relationship, where you would spend ages walking around together with Monty getting to know everything you could about one another.

It was where you'd come with Monty that beautiful spring day when you'd found out you were pregnant while Niall was away touring his third album. You'd gone there to gather your thoughts about how to break the news to him that after almost a year of trying you had finally got a positive pregnancy test. It was also the place you'd both gone together to digest the information that it was twins.

And just last year it was the place that you had both taught Jack and Izzy to ride their bikes without stabilizers, while Monty chased the stupid ducks by the pond.

It was your special place and somewhere you came everyday when you were in the UK. When the twins were younger and before they started school you would spend a good amount of time in the U.S. at the L.A. home, but now Niall only went over there when he needed to and would only spend leisure time there if you were all with him.

He hates being apart from you all and it had devastated him at first when he toured last year and the twins had been at school for a lot of it. But Niall had gained what he had always hoped for, a long successful career with dedicated fans who had embraced you, Monty and the children.

You stood watching the twins scooter around the path with Monty bounding beside them, but then you had an overwhelming feeling that you were being watched. You had come to learn this feeling well in the first few years of your relationship. Knowing that Niall was a public figure and you were in a relationship meant you were also of interest. People took your photo without permission quite often, particularly here on the Common.

Looking behind you cautiously you saw Niall walking across the bridge with his Dad Bobby and his partner Aoife walking behind him. He still gave you butterflies in your tummy even after nine years together. He smiled and gave you a wave as they made their way over to you. Monty was next to spot him and he gave up on aggravating the ducks to race over to him. Jack was next, followed by Izzy and they sped over calling out to their Dad and Grandad.

"Hey stalker." You said to Niall as he came over to kiss you.

"Not stalking, you text me to tell me you were going to be here!" He smirked.

You looked over to see Izzy in deep conversation with Aoife. "And I did my writing homework but I left my school book as I wanted to read it with you."

"I'm sure we can look at that together, just make sure we help out with dinner and stuff for your Mum first though, ok?" Aoife replied.

As Bobby and Aoife finally reached you after being practically mauled by the twins they greeted you with a hug and a kiss each.

"I've prepped most of dinner while you were out, just need Pops to start up the bbq when we get back." You said looking at Bobby.

"I think I can manage that." He said rubbing his hands together. "I'm in a good mood after our win, think I'll have a couple of beers to celebrate. Speaking of football how did you do this morning Jack?"

"Really good and I scored a goal!" Jack said with a massive smile on his face.

He hadn't been happy about missing the game with Niall, but you'd only just managed to get him a slot on the football team after being on the waiting list for months. Niall had insisted that there would be other games he could take him to in the future that didn't clash with his practice.

"The Common always looks amazing on a summer afternoon doesn't it?" Aoife said as she leant down to give Monty some attention.

"It does, this place has always been something beautiful." Niall replied smiling as he looked at you, taking your hand in his.

#niall #Niall Horan #niall fan fic #emily writes #niall fan fiction #Something Beautiful #niall fluff

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taylizmasterpost · 4 years ago

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Swiftgron Shows Up, Liz Spirals (March 2012 - September 2012)

This is not going to be a timeline of Swiftgron and their relationship. For that, you can go to the @swiftgronmasterpost. This is just to show how, when things got serious with Dianna, things deteriorated between Taylor and Liz:

25 March 2012 - Swiftgron go watch the Hunger Games together. Taylor follows Dianna on Twitter afterwards. This is likely their first actual date:

27 March 2012 - Liz tweets this:

Was this in response to Swifgron’s first date? Maybe. Was Liz jealous Taylor had pulled the exact same move on Dianna that she’d pulled on her back in 2009 when she took her to Valentine’s Day? Also maybe. But also maybe not. Still, #Lizgototherapychallenge.

30 March 2012 - Taylor introduces Dianna to her mom, they all get dinner together:

12 April 2012 - Dianna blows a kiss to Taylor on Jimmy Kimmel.

18 April 2012 - Mutual friend Chantelle tweets that she spent the night and early morning hanging out with TayLiz.

Chantelle will post a picture of her, Taylor and Liz hanging out in a kitchen together almost a year later -- when the girls don’t seem to be on speaking terms -- making me think this picture was taken on this night:

24 April 2012 - Swiftgron Shirley MacLane party happens:

27 April 2012 - Taylor and someone (possibly Liz) are papped getting lunch together in LA. The secret message for the song “The Last Time,” which will be written in a few months, is “LA On Your Break.” They’re certainly in LA, and the tour is certainly on break. Perhaps this is Taylor finally ending things with Liz.

Liz tweets at Taylor about Skittles later that day, making me think it was her at lunch.

28 April 2012 - Dianna’s birthday party. Taylor dresses as a tiger and leaves a note on the door with a joke they’d made that reads “I’m a little kitten and I need to nurse because I’m a runt and I’m likely to fall victim to predators.”

10 May 2012 - Taylor posts on Instagram “Going back to Nashville. Thinking about the whole thing. Guess you gotta run sometimes.”

This is from the song Nashville by David Mead. Other interesting lyrics include:

You’re a distant memory, you’re an exit sign I was talking crazy on the driver’s side

I was talking crazy on the driver’s side I will always love you like a long goodbye

The driving references are interesting, considering that Red has the theme of driving all over it. “I will always love you like a long goodbye” also seems to support the theory that Taylor has just finally broken things off with Liz.

15 May 2012 - Taylor finishes writing Everything Has Changed with Ed Sheeran then gets dinner with Dianna Ashley and Claire. The original lyrics of Everything Has Changed talk about “falling for a Gemini,” which describes Gemini Liz, but Taylor seems to have re-fitted the song to be about Dianna and removed those lyrics:

27 May 2012 - Liz’s birthday. Taylor does not tweet at her. No pictures are posted of the party, if there is one.

28 May 2012 - Taylor and Ed record Everything Has Changed:

Late May 2012 - Taylor writes The Last Time:

Here’s what she had to say about the inspiration for the song:

The Last Time is a hard song for me to analyze, not because I don’t have theories about what it means, but because I think Taylor is oversimplifying the story here. To me, looking at this song, assuming it’s about Liz, it reads less like a pleading “baby I want you back” song, and more like an “I’m losing you to addiction song.”

We haven’t fully gotten into this yet, but Liz was dealing with a lot of mental and internal shit at this time. According to rumor, she’s about to be let go from The Agency due to getting “out of control,” and the songs she writes this summer, including Wreck of Who I Am, definitely seem to imply she was trying to claw her way out of a spiral here. When I listen to The Last Time through this lens, it feels more like a last chance, pleading intervention.

Wreck of Who I Am:

And the tide is strong that it keeps me from the land

And I’m low on faith and I pray with shaky hands

Well it hurts like hell tryna tell myself

This ain’t the only thing that’s meant for me

Gotta piece back together the wreck of who I am

The Last Time

This is the last time I’m asking you this

Put my name at the top of your list

This is the last time I’m asking you why

You break my heart in the blink of an eye

And there’s also the fact that The Last Time seems like it was written on if not around Liz’s birthday (May 27).

3 June 2012 - Dianna jokes at the GLAAD Awards about having kissed girls before:

4 June 2012 - Liz does some songwriting of her own with Seth Jones and Megan Mace:

Taylor and Liz’s dresses from Mean are placed next to each other at the Speak Now Tour Exhibition:

10 June 2012 - Taylor diaries about recording 22, and IKYWT, says she’s already written WANEGBT:

Story behind WANEGBT: I wrote it with Max Martin and Johan Shellback who are two of my songwriting heroes, they’re amazing. And we were in the studio, and we were writing a different song and this guy walks in who I- was- A friend of someone I had previously… dated. And he comes in and he’s like “Oh, I hear you and [redacted] are getting back together” and um that was like his opening line. And we weren’t. We’d done that whole like on/off on/off just the worst. Bleh. And um… And so when he left I just turned to Max and I was like “We are never getting back together. What? That’s ridiculous!” Um and I told them the whole situation as I do ‘cause I tend to share, as you know. And so uh he just looked at me and he was like “I know the song we’re writing today. Let’s start a new one.” And so I got the guitar and it just sort of happened and so uh this is that song.

So what we know from this is that it is HIGHLY more likely that a friend of Liz just happened to walk into the studio that day than a friend of either Jake or Dianna (I’m guessing someone from The Agency maybe? Taylor seems to fumble when choosing how to describe them)

Martin and Shellback are credited on three songs on red -- WANEGBT, IKYWT, and 22. We know Taylor wrote 22 here. She also says she “came back to trouble.” From that I can assume they were trying to write IKYWT when this story took place.

The secret message for WANEGBT is “When I stopped caring what you thought.” To me, this really signals things have broken down between them. Rather than the pleading in The Last Time, this is song is much more distant and moved on, where Taylor is able to have a sense of humor about the breakup.

18 June 2012 - A friend of Liz’s tweets this at Taylor (am I the only one sensing some shade??):

1 July 2012 - Liz does some songwriting in Nashville:

Between this session and the session on the fourth, presumably the songs she’d release later that winter (One Hand On the Wheel, Wreck of Who I Am, and Blessed Are the Brokenhearted) are written here, making it seem like Liz is processing both some depression and a breakup of some sort.

8 July 2012 - Taylor takes pictures with a fan at a coffee shop (presumably in Nashville). According to the fan’s account, Liz was also there, sitting at the table behind them. The fan ends up taking pictures with both Liz and Taylor:

I’m not entirely sure what this means for them. Obviously Taylor has just written The Last Time (presumably about Liz) and then gone off to Hy(i)annis port with Dianna to go frolic in the waves and all that, so I don’t think this means TayLiz is back on. However, we know from fan accounts (which I’ll get to in a second) that Liz thought she was going to be coming on the Red Tour until she was let go from The Agency in September. Perhaps this is some amount of reconciliation? A check in? An ultimatum to get her act together or she won’t be allowed on tour?

Truthfully, we can’t know for sure. But this is one of their last hang outs together (that we know of) this year.

13 August 2012 - Taylor’s Red Youtube Webchat. She describes what some of the songs on the album are about

22: This is a song that I wrote with Max Martin and Johan Shellback and it’s a song about the way I spent my summer when I was finishing this album. Kind of hanging out with my friends all the time and I really decided that I love being twenty two. It’s um kind of my favorite age that I’ve ever been. I kind of have like different theories of the years in my life and like what they meant and 22 has been so much fun. It’s- it’s been so much fun and I decided to write a song about that and just all the ridiculous nonsense that my friends and I got into. And, um, so this one’s called 22.

Treacherous: This is a song that I wrote with Dan Wilson… I’ve always wanted to work with him. So I called him and um it turned out that he was into the idea of working with me. And um so I went in with this idea and uh we wrote a song about when you’re falling for someone and you know that it’s dangerous. And you know that it could really really really really really just annihilate you if it were to not work out and it could possibly not work out and it probably won’t work out, but you go for it anyway. And so this is called Treacherous.

31 August 2012 - We Are Never Ever Getting Back Together is released as a single. The MV features the rest of the Agency, but not Liz. Fans take notice.

13 September 2012 - The news breaks that Liz is leaving The Agency and will not be on the Red Tour:

Interestingly enough, according to the L Chat, Liz had been telling fans that she was planning on going on the Red Tour before this point, so something must’ve happened:

And because of this fan encounter below, we have somewhat of an idea of what it was:

So from the combined events of this summer we know this about Liz being let go:

1) Liz wrote songs that summer about having a hard time and trying to claw her way out of it.

2) Taylor and Liz met up twice that summer, and Taylor did not acknowledge Liz’s birthday publicly.

3) Taylor may have written The Last Time, a song about begging someone to choose you over other things (possibly addiction) on Liz’s birthday.

4) Liz thought she was going on The Red Tour.

5) Liz was fired for “getting out of control.”

The picture this paints to me is that, while Liz was spiraling, Taylor was trying to help her, using coming on the Red Tour as a reward for getting her act together. When she ultimately couldn’t, presumably after that meeting in July, Taylor had no choice but to ask her to leave the Agency, since hardcore intense tour life is likely the last thing Liz needed to get better. This is a really difficult and hard situation, regardless of whether or not the two women were ever sexually or romantically involved.

Fortunately, as we’ll see moving forward, this seems to be the wake up call Liz needed to start the process of getting back on her feet. However, it’s clear that for at least a little bit after this, Taylor became a taboo topic around Liz. But ask anyone who’s dealt with addiction or helped a friend/family member through it -- there’s some resentment that’s bound to happen, even towards the people trying to help.

20 September 2012 - Liz spends “quality time” with Claire and Taylor:

I personally read this as one last hurrah of the trio after Liz was not asked back for the Red Tour. The “not mad at this day” feels a little weird to me too, and I can’t tell if it’s supposed to be shade or not. Either way, this is the last major interaction between Taylor and Liz for a while.

IN CONCLUSION: Liz had her demons. Whether this is what caused the end of her and Taylor’s relationship or something else, it’s almost certainly what caused her to not be asked back on the Red Tour. In the winter, she would release the music she was writing over the summer, making it clear she was going through some shit, probably not helped by seeing Taylor so obviously move on with Dianna. But this is the low point. Things with Liz can only go up from here.

Liz After the Agency (September 2012 - September 2014)

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ptergwen · 5 years ago

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love you the same

warnings: nah we’re good

summary: coming out to peter (bi!reader)

a/n: hi guys i’m so so so sorry for being ia i just didn’t feel comfy posting for a little while with everything going on. i might dip again but don’t forget to keep signing petitions and speaking up however you can! also HAPPY PRIDE YAYYYY this one’s for my fellow bi disasters <3

your heart is beating faster every second. you feel so nauseous that you can’t breathe right. you’re overwhelmed and terrified for what’s about to happen. it shouldn’t have to be so hard, hell you shouldn’t have to do it in the first place.

the idea that loving who you love needs a big announcement has never sat right with you. it’s not like there’s a default setting on every human being’s sexuality. nobody chooses who they are or aren’t attracted to. still, you want to do it. you’re tired of keeping all of this to yourself.

today is the day you’re ready to come out as bisexual. the first person you’re starting with will be peter. not your family, none of your other friends, but peter. you honestly trust him the most, and he’s always supported you through everything. you’re just not sure how he’s going to react.

obviously peter won’t be against it in any way. he’s not like that, actually far from it. what you’re afraid of is him seeing you differently. you’ve known each other since kindergarten. you used to do all that cheesy stuff like taking baths together. is this going to make him go back and analyze every second he’s spent with you for the last ten years? you’re about to find out.

you’ve been waiting at the door literally since he texted he was his way over. you open it after the first knock to reveal a surprised peter.

“someone’s excited to see me.” he wiggles his eyebrows, sidestepping past you to get inside. you shut the door behind him while he kicks off his shoes. “or maybe you’re not the only one with a tingle,” you joke. “reminds me of something that happened on patrol last night. you gotta hear this. i was-“ “can we talk about it in my room?”

you don’t mean to be abrupt, but you feel like getting this over with already. standing around and putting off the conversation is making it so much scarier. patrol updates will have to be postponed.

“um, yeah. sure. whatever you want.” he gives you a quick nod. without saying anything else, you take peter’s hand and lead him down the hallway. you let go once you get to your room. peter closes your door with a worried look as you gather your thoughts.

“why... are you in a rush or something?” he eyes you nervously. “i didn’t even get to say hi to your mom.” “she’s in her room doing work, so it’s fine. come sit.” you turn to him, pointing at your bed. peter takes the spot in front of where you’re standing. he’s making his signature puppy dog eyes up at you, and it’s so hard to get your words out. you inhale a deep breath.

now that you’re really doing this, you wish you’d made a plan earlier. there’s no right way to come out, but you feel like you’ll be the first person who manages to do it wrong. plus, you’re two kids with anxiety. neither of you wants to talk first.

“what’s going on, y/n/n?” peter finally breaks the silence, tilting his head to the side. “i wanna tell you something. i’m just not sure how because i’ve never said it before.” you twiddle your thumbs as a distraction. you’ve suddenly become very interested in the floor. peter takes one of your hands in his and squeezes it softly, willing you to look up again.

“whatever it is, just take your time. it’s okay.” “okay. thank you.” you squeeze his hand back with a nod.

this is exactly why you felt comfortable talking about this with peter in the first place. he’s so patient with you, and his little bit of encouragement reminded you that you’re making the right decision. you end up sitting down on your bed across from peter. he holds out his other hand for you, and you grab it.

“i don’t want what i’m gonna say to change anything between us, in a good or bad way. i’ll still be the same person. please don’t get freaked out.” you widen your eyes at him to stress your point. half smiling, peter moves both of your hands to rest in his lap. “we’re way past that. you know i’m not going anywhere.”

you find yourself laughing for the first time today. he truly has been by your side forever. every weird phase you’ve had, your family drama, and all the messed up stuff that’s happened along the way hasn’t scared him off. why would you liking girls be the thing to do it?

“true. i think i’m ready for real.” “then i am, too.” you play with his fingers like you were just doing with your own to keep yourself calm. “so, everybody knows i like boys. i talk about it all the time. i’ve told you my crushes.” peter nods so you know he understands. you let him sit with that for a few seconds before you continue.

“those weren’t all of them. that’s because some were girls. what i’m trying to say is, i like boys and girls. i’m bisexual.”

peter’s listening face changes into a huge grin. you hesitate, but raise your eyebrows at him to silently ask what that means. he throws his arms around you in a hug that’s so tight you almost fall over. you hug him back with your head on his shoulder and laugh in shock at his reaction. whatever you were expecting, it definitely wasn’t on this level. you’re enjoying it anyway.

“i’m so proud of you, y/n,” peter says into your ear, then pulls back and grabs your hands again. “that’s cool.” “it is? you’re not, like, rethinking our friendship?” he lets out a breath. “no, and you’re still the same y/n to me. i love you the same way i did before. promise.” “i love you, pete. a lot.” you wind your arms around his neck for another hug. he holds you close to his chest, smiling down at you.

“i’ve kinda had a feeling you were into girls for a while now.” your mouths drops open. “what? no you didn’t.” “i one hundred percent did. it wasn’t just a tingle, either. i have solid proof.” you cross your arms playfully. peter just shrugs like it’s nothing. “let me hear it because i thought i was pretty good at not giving myself away.”

“oh my god, no. there was that time when i caught you checking out liz and you said you were ‘doing research’ for me. you have a whole album in your camera roll dedicated to hot women. should i keep going?” you cover your face with your hands, peter laughing.

“no! that’s literally so embarrassing. also, how do you know about the hot women thing?” peter elbows your arm. “be more selective with who you give your password to.”

“you’re so annoying. but now that you mentioned it, wanna go through it together?” “i was waiting for you to ask.”

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whynotwinnie · 4 years ago

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Tímida: Roger Taylor x OC series

sorry guys i’ve been m.i.a. with second semester starting i’ve been stressing with class and all that but i had this chapter for awhile now and i decided to finish it. also i’m trying to work on “wounded” the kylo ren series but i fell into a bit of a writers block for that one. .-. i’ll work on it soon. but here is this roger taylor fic you can use ben hardy’s version of roger if you would like. :) thanks for reading.

MICKEY

Waking up groggy you checked your alarm clock, 12:00 in the afternoon you have definitely seen worse you groaned as you got up from your bed.

You had always followed a very specific routine in all honestly it just made sense living on your own had definitely impacted you and your mental health so sticking to a routine made it feel like your life was always on track, when it certainly was not.

The first thing on your non-existent schedule was coffee, no matter the time you always needed some sort of caffeine when you are tight on cash it was tea at home, but when you were able and that was most of the time you went to a small coffee shop that was about a fifteen-minute walk from your studio apartment.

After doing the basic self-hygiene you grabbed your tote bag filled with your work stuff and started walking to the directions to Beachwood Cafe.

The walk is always quiet and calm, but it always gave you little bits and pieces into other people’s lives. Like the old lady watering her plants or the way, the housewife takes her toddler for a walk in his stroller. The sense of familiarity comforted you.

“Hello there.”

You whipped your head toward the direction of the voice, this was not part of the routine you had never seen this man before, his shoulder-length blonde hair and ridiculously blue eyes were unfamiliar yet comforting. He was confident yet nonchalant with his greeting.

“Hello,” you said with a small smile he looked down at you smiling.

You continued to walk seeing Beachwood in the distance.

“Were you going to get a cuppa?” you nodded your head “That is so crazy because so was I.” he picked up his pace so he can open the door for you.

You muttered a small thank you and walked in, Beachwood was a small but very popular coffeeshop the owner Dayla has became a very good friend of yours and always brightened up your day with a joke or two.

“Mimi, how are you love?” she asked from behind the counter.

“I’m good Day how are you?”

“Can’t complain if I say so myself.” she said grinning “Let me guess Caffe Latte and a pastry?”

“Yes ma’am, it’s late in the day you didn’t run out of the pastries yet?”

“I just took out a fresh batch right now, I knew you were going to have a late start today.” God, you loved this woman.

You stepped aside to get your wallet from your bag

“What would you like young man?” Dayla asked the man who walked in with you.

“I’ll just get a cup of tea please, Oh! I’ll get her order as well” he said as he saw you handing money to Dayla.

“That’s okay!” you said feeling the heat rise to your cheeks.

“Please I insist.” He said practically throwing the money to pay for your order at Dayla.

“Please let me-”

“Mimi! he said he insists go sit down,” Dayla said looking at you wide-eyed.

You looked at both of them and walked to the seat you usually sat at and what a surprise the man came with you.

“Do you mind if I sit here?” he said motioning to the seat across from you.

“Go ahead,” you said

He sat down looking out the window and then back at you. “I’m sorry I realized I never introduced myself I’m Roger Taylor.” he said extending his hand out to you, you grabbed it.

“I’m Mickey… well it’s not really Mickey but it’s just easier to pronounce.” Stupid you should’ve just said Mickey.

“May I ask what your real name is?” Roger said still holding your hand

“It’s Mikaela but Mickey is fine.”

“Can you say it one more time, I want to make sure I got it right.” he rubbed his thumb across your knuckles.

“Umm… yeah it’s pronounced Me as in me and you, Ki like eye but with a K in front of it and Yella like yell with an A after… That sounded really complicated actually you don’t have to-”

“Mikaela?” he said slowly looking up at you for confirmation.

“Yeah!” your heart skipped a beat it is so nice hearing your name.

“Nice to meet you Mikaela” he said as he brought your hand up to his mouth and pressed a soft kiss on your knuckles.

Fuck.

Of course, at the exact same time as that happened, Dayla came with your drinks. She set your drink down smirking and left without saying another word.

“Is it safe to assume that you are not from here?” He asked while blowing on his tea before taking a small sip.

“Yeah, you can say that. What gave it away.” You said smiling from your coffee cup

“You’re just different from everyone not in a bad way either I like it. Where are you from.”

Oh god, I can die happy right now.

“Well, it's a bit of a long story.”

“I don't have anywhere to be.” He said his blues eyes burning into yours

Oh wow, he's so hot

“Oh in that case. I was born in a small town in Spain. Spanish was my first language so that’s why I talk funny.”

“I like the way you talk.”

He did not. Your face was definitely red.

“How does a girl from Spain come to London?”

“Ummm sheer luck I suppose.”

“Can I ask you a question?”

“Sure”

“Was it hard learning another language?”

“Learning English was super difficult sometimes I feel like I dont know what I’m saying, but English is my third language my second was Italian.”

“Italian? Where do you find the time to learn two extra languages?” He was genuinely in disbelief

“Well my mom was from Spain and my dad was from Italy so I just needed to know both and they’re pretty similar to each other so it wasn’t that hard.

“What do you do for fun?”

“What do I do for fun?” I repeated thinking hard

“Yes, you obviously must have loads of friends.”

“Well… I do have friends, I just can’t think of one at this second.”

This is embarrassing now he thinks I’m a loser

“Don’t worry I don’t have many friends either but consider me as your friend Mickey.”

“What about you? What do you do for fun?” I need to change the subject oh my god.

“Well, I’m in a rock band.”

“A rock band?!” You said a little too loudly

“What about me isn’t rock and roll Mickey?” he said laughing

“Not in a bad way of course you don’t seem like the type to be singing in front of a crowd,” I said shaking my head

“Well, I suppose you got that right I’m on the drums in the back so the audience can’t really see me anyways.”

“I’m sorry I’m not trying to make fun of you I just got caught off guard, does your band have a name?”

“Sm- Queen,” he said shaking his head.

“I like the name Queen, are you playing soon I would like to see what I’m missing out on.”

“We’re actually recording our first album right now, the recording place is not too far from here about a block or two further down. So we’re going on a small break until we’re done with the album but I believe the next one is in three weeks.”

“I’ll keep an eye out for it then.” You said sipping your coffee

“Actually I was hoping to see you earlier than that.”

You immediately choked on your coffee, making a scene by coughing into your napkin.

“That wasn’t the response I had hoped for,” he said passing you his napkin so you can wipe your tears with.

“Oh, I’m so sorry I wasn’t trying to be mean I just- well I would like to see you again as well.”

“Really?,” He said smiling, and you swear you could melt from his smile alone.

“Yes, of course.” You smiled back.

He then prompted to drink his cup of tea until it was finished and left money on the table.

“Great then I’m going to leave before I can mess up this perfect first moment. By any chance do you have a pen on you?”

You shook your head yes and looked through your bag handing it to him.

“This is my number, we’re recording until 6 today so anytime after that call me and I’d love to talk to you more.”

You felt your head spinning with how fast he was talking and moving.

He plucked your hand up and gave you a small kiss on it again, he then walked to the door before saying.

“Promise me you’ll call me,” he told you while he grabbed the door handle.

“I promise I’ll call you,” you said softly

“Perfect,” he said while he winked at you and then left.

He gave you one last look through the window and then left, once he was out of view Dayla came to the table.

“Who was that?” she said, collecting her tip that Roger left her.

“His name is Roger. I met him today.”

“Today! You’re joking.”

“I swear Dayla I met him minutes before coming here?”

“He can be a psychopath! And here you are chatting with him after knowing him for 30 minutes.”

That stopped you.

“He is not a psycho he was so nice and funny, and did you see how hot he is Day?”

“Yeah well murderers can be funny and hot.”

“Do you really think he’s a murderer?” you asked in a exsperated way.

“No, I was just kidding he is really hot and besides who would want to murder you?” Dayla said as she wiggled her eyebrows.

“Wow that doesn’t really make me feel better.”

She stood up grabbing Roger’s empty cup “Girl you know I was just playing I say go for it and have fun, anyone would be lucky to have you.” she bumped your shoulder with her hip and left.

Your mind felt overwhelmed with all the excitement from today you even almost forgot that you had some work orders to do you tried to push Roger from your mind as you grabbed your journal and sketchbook from your bag. You looked back at your notes reading on what your client wanted: a floor-length gown but not something too flashy something to show off their arms and their cleavage. Perfect. You spent your time designing the gown having fun with it since you probably wouldn’t have another gown piece for months. After finishing you went on to your smaller orders feeling yourself getting into the groove of things.

Looking up from your sketch you noticed how dark it got outside and how empty it now was in the cafe. You decided to call it a day, well that was until you go home, and then you would start making the gown. You noticed the clock when you were telling Dayla good night. 6:58 Damn time really flew by and then you remembered the number you had in your bag.

The walk home went by to fast your thoughts about what you would say to Roger once you called made you nervous to the point that your keys kept slipping from your hands as you were trying to open the door to your apartment.

You purposely threw your jacket on the phone hook so you didn’t have to see it and went to the bathroom you looked at your appearance baggy jeans, an oversize t-shirt that you also slept in, hair a mess, and no makeup. You shook your head, no way Roger was being serious about you calling him he was so much more put together and out of your league completely. You could just imagine all the beautiful women that he has been with, no way you could compare. You sighed walking out the bathroom ready to get started on your order. You grabbed the different fabrics you needed for making the gown and when you went to grab your sketchbook Roger’s number fell and slowly fluttered down to the floor like it was taunting you. You stared at the paper hard groaning when you opened it reading that he wrote “Roger <3” following his number. You did promise him you would call…

Your heartbeat picked up when you approached the phone dialing each number slowly wishing a catastrophic event would happen and end the world so you didn’t have to finish dialing. It didn’t happen. You put the phone to your ear and hear the first ring, and then the second. This was stupid calling him in the first place you removed the phone from your ear and were half a second away from hanging up when you heard “Hello?”

Shit.

You couldn’t just hang up now.

“Hello, is this Roger?”

“It took you long enough.”

#queen band #queen smut #queen imagine #rogertaylor #roger taylor imagine #roger taylor smut #roger taylor fanfic #queen imagines #borhap #borhap smut #ben hardy #ben hardy smut #ben hardy imagine #ben hardy fluff #queen fluff

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crowdedimagines · 5 years ago

Text

Who Is That? Part 2 (Harry Styles)

PART ONE

In the span of a week Harry and I go on two dates, our third taking place in a few hours. I’ve never moved so quickly with someone, but I’ve also never felt so comfortable with someone so quickly.

By the time I got up to my apartment I already had a text from Harry asking when he could see me again to take me out on a date. I immediately called Hannah to gush over what had happened. She seemed to be just as shocked as I was, especially being that I wasn’t exactly thrilled with him the last time she saw me.

Our first date, Harry took me out to eat. We only waited until the next day before we decided to meet up again. The more we got to talking the less we wanted to wait. Over dinner we were able to get to know each other a little better. Harry made me promise not to google him before the date. He found it refreshing to come across someone who didn’t know of his stardom. Instead he got to tell me all about it himself. I got to tease him about how this was the second time he was paying for my meal, but only our first date.

It took a while to meet up again, I officially started teaching. It took me a few days to get into the swing of things. In the meantime Harry and I texted and called to keep in touch.

Our second date was my idea. I decided it might be nice to go on a hike. I hadn’t been on any of the trails in Los Angeles in years, so I was glad to be back. Harry seemed to be thrilled with the idea as well. It was surprising how for someone who looks to be in shape, he becomes out of breath quite easily. We would talk the whole time, pausing to take in the view. Another successful date.

Hannah couldn’t help but freak out that things were going so well. She felt responsible since it was her idea for me to go up to him in the first place. She liked to gloat and tease me about giving a speech at our wedding. She also claimed that if she wasn’t godparent to at least one of our kids she would be pissed.

Tonight is Harry and I’s third date. He asked me when he dropped me off after our hike and he’s given me no details. We’ve talked and I ask him how to dress and what to bring, but he hasn’t budged on anything. Haven’t wavered even slightly on giving me some details.

“So, what are you wearing tonight?” Hannah asks, she watches me on facetime digging through my closet.

“I have no clue.” I huff, “I just don’t know what to expect. Like are we going out to dinner? Should I dress fancy? Or our last date was hiking so what if we’re like going rock climbing? I hate this.”

I sigh and lay back on my floor, piles of clothes around me.

“I may have heard from a little bird what you’re doing, so I would dress casual and cute.” Hannah admits, I can hear her laugh.

“You know what the date is?” I ask, sitting up to look at her proud smirk. She gives an evil nod in response. Of course they’re in cahoots.

“You ass! You’ve watched me sigh over my clothes for twenty minutes now. So what's the date?” I ask, picking up my phone from my desk to get a better look at the screen.

“I’m not telling! You will love it tho.”

“Okay, so casual and cute.” I reevaluate the items in my closet, trusting that she knows how I should dress appropriately. I settle on a short floral dress and a denim jacket. I put it on and turn back to Hannah for her opinion.

“It’s perfect!”

“Well that’s good because I think I just heard him at the door.” I reach for my phone and my purse, “Thanks!”

I yell a simple ‘coming’ so he knows that I heard him. I check myself in the mirror one more time by the door before deciding it’s good enough.

“Hi.” I swing open the door.

“Hello, love.” He leans in to press a kiss to my cheek. I smile leaning into his touch before turning around to lock my door behind me.

“Ready?” He asks, walking me towards the elevator.

“As ready as I can be for a mystery date.” I grin.

We go downstairs, Harry holds the passenger door open for me.

“I don’t get to drive?” I tease, sticking out my bottom lip in a pout.

“Not when you don’t know where we’re going.” He walks around to the other side and gets in. I’ve decided this car is my favorite when the top is down. It takes my hair with the wind, pulling it in every direction. I normally would hate that for going on a date, but it does the same thing to his curls.

We drive for a while and get on the freeway, telling me that we aren’t going anywhere very close.

“So, how was your first week?” Harry asks, referring to my first week with students.

“It was great. It was a long week, I’m glad it’s Friday, but it’s only confirmed that this is what I’ve always wanted to do. How about you, how was your week?”

I squint to look at him as I wait for an answer. The setting sun casting an orange haze over both our faces.

“I spent most of the week in the studio.” He glances over at me.

“Wait, but didn’t you tell me that you recently released an album?” I tuck my hair behind my ears.

“Yeah, I did. You can never spend too much time in the studio. Plus I was feelin a bit inspired.”

“Were you, now?” I tease, biting back a smile.

He simply nods, trying not to give in to many more words. He should know by now that I’m not going to let him off that easy.

“So, have you already written a song about me?”

He bites the inside of his cheek to avoid giving anything away. I don’t pull my eyes away from him, not wanting to miss an emotion that crosses his face. His cheeks heat up in the most adorable shade of pink.

“Wow.” I smirk, “If you keep that up, I’m going to become the narcissist in this relationship.”

“So we have a relationship now?” He decides to flip it on me now.

He’s successful in shutting me up for a minute. It’s true that we haven’t discussed exactly what we are. We are heavily flirty, but we haven’t even kissed, nothing more than the cheek at least.

“I must be pretty amazing then, huh?” I fill the void, bringing it back to me, wanting to know more about what he could be possibly writing about in the studio the past week.

“That’s where I have to agree.”

Silence fills the car, but it’s comfortable. We just listen to the radio, I watch the scenery pass by as we drive farther and farther from the city. I rest my arm on the top of the door, letting my hand float in the wind. Harry pulls me out of my trance when he reaches out to the radio.

“What?” I question as he turns down the radio. He has a funny look on his face as he does it.

“Nothing.” He shakes his head, “Just don’t always enjoy listening to my own music.”

“Shut up!” I grin, Harry has still been adamant about wanting to keep me in my little bubble of unawareness. He wanted us to find out things about each other organically so I haven’t been granted the pass to listen to his music yet, “This is meant to be.”

I reach to turn it back up again, letting it play loudly through the speakers. He rolls his eyes but a smile still graces his face, he gives up feigning annoyance. His arm resting across the bench of our chair drops to my shoulders to pull me a little closer. The wind was whipping my hair, but now due to his arm it’s settled. I lean in to rest my head against his shoulder, grateful for the small car. It makes the cuddling a little easier.

“So are you going to tell me where we’re going?” I ask, looking up at him.

“Where’s the fun in that?”

He continues down the freeway, the sky dimming as we go. We’re miles from the city, nothing is familiar anymore.

“Close your eyes.” He smiles.

“Why?” I squint sceptically.

“Because it’s more fun this way.” He manages to keep glancing between me and the road, “Humor me, love.”

“Fine.”

I squeeze my eyes shut and keep them shut, even as he slows. He makes several turns, we’re obviously far from the freeway now. The roads get quieter and quieter and eventually I can hear us turn on to a gravel road.

“I knew it, you are some creep.” I turn to face him, still keeping my eyes closed, “Taking me out into the middle of nowhere to kill me.”

“Shut up, would ya.” He nudges my shoulder, “You’re going to ruin the fun.”

I can hear the smile in his tone. He’s having way too much fun with this, but also it’s getting me excited for whatever he’s planned. It wouldn’t take much for him to win me over. He’s so charming, and we just click. I would be happy with picking up a pizza and talking. It doesn’t take much to fall for this boy.

“Okay, you can open.” He’s finally parked. I picked up on outside noises of people talking and other cars.

I peek my eyes open to see where we’ve finally stopped. A drive in movie, Harry’s car parked a few rows back giving us the perfect view of the screen.

“Shut up.” I sit up, reluctantly leaving Harry’s grip so I can sit up a little more and look around.

“Harry.” I turn to look at him, his eyes already on me, “This is perfect. Thank you.”

“C’mon, let’s go get some snacks.”

We walk over to the snack booth to get drinks and popcorn.

“I haven’t done one of these since I was a kid.” I laugh, taking a piece from the bag, “What movie are we seeing anyway?”

“Grease.” He grins, “A classic drive in movie.”

We go back to his car with our snacks just as the movie starts. The bench seating makes it so Harry can slide more to my side and avoid sitting under the steering wheel the whole time. Once we’re done snacking, we cuddle in a little more. Harry wraps his arm around my shoulder, I throw my legs over his lap. His free hand tracing patterns absentmindedly on my leg.

“I think I watched this movie a hundred times in year four.” He whispers into my hair.

“Really?” I grin thinking about ten year old Harry watching this movie on repeat.

“It was my favorite, I think I proper annoyed everyone else. Gemma hated me for it, I think she still hates this movie.”

I laugh pulling back to look at his smiling face. His eyes leave the screen once he notices I’m no longer watching.

“Whatcha starin at?” He teases.

“You.” I smirk, I focus my attention on his lips. He licks them once he notices my gaze. I tilt my head up towards his slightly, hinting. He smiles before leaning down to finally connect our lips. His hand leaves my leg to cup my cheek and deepen the kiss. I reach my hand to run through his curls, something I’ve been wanting to do since I saw him in the bar.

We both pull back to catch our breath after a few minutes of an intoxicating kiss. I peck his lips once more to get one last taste. Harry doesn’t seem to want it to be over either, pulling me close again. I laugh as he presses kisses down my jaw, trailing them down my chest. He trails them down between my breasts as far as the cut of my dress will allow.

“Harry.” I laugh, pulling on his hair lightly to grab his attention again.

“Hmm?” He finally pulls back to look at me again, he has a dopey grin. I’m still practically sitting in his lap, but I long to be closer. Needing to feel his lips burning against mine.

I push him down slowly, so his back is flat against the seat. I move to straddle his hips before I move down to join. I trace my hand along his jawline, letting the moment build this time. The tension is at an all time high, finally Harry loses patience and pulls me down to his lips again.

We continue the hot makeout for the rest of the movie. We manage to pry ourselves apart once Danny and Sandy are flying away in the car, the end of the movie. Harry clears his throat as he starts his car. I manage to stifle my laugh, Harry makes me feel like I’m a teenager again. Making out in a car, not wanting to go home just yet.

“How are we ever going to top this date?” I ask, my forehead resting against his neck. We’re just now pulling back on to the freeway, we’ve got a long way to go.

“I don’t really know.” He grins, “I’ve quite enjoyed this one.”

“I don’t want this night to end.” I reach my hand up to feel the breeze against it.

“It doesn’t have to.” His eyes flicker between me and the road, “My house is actually in Malibu. We practically have to drive right by it. We don’t have to! I didn’t mean to insinuate that we need to spend the night at my house.”

Harry being a proper gentleman, afraid he’s offended me. In reality it’s excited me.

“No, it sounds like fun.” I grin.

Harry continues driving, thankfully Malibu isn’t as far as driving all the way back into L.A. We both started non stop yawning about ten minutes ago, I think the tiring week and how late it is catches up with us. He enters the code to his gate and drives up the long driveway.

“Jesus, this is your house?” I laugh, looking around at his large Malibu home, “How’d you get this again?”

“Rockin and rollin and whatnot.” Harry laughs, putting on his best Danny Zuko impression to quote the movie. I throw my head back in laughter as he guides us to the front door, his hand resting on my lower back.

“You’re such a dork.” I whisper with a laugh.

“Oh really? I’m a dork? You seem to really like this dork.” He smirks, backing me into his house. I don’t even look around because I don’t want to break eye contact. Something about Harry’s eyes pull you in, enchanting you. Creating a wave of butterflies in my stomach.

“I do really like you.” I admit.

“Wow, she even said it without teasing.” He reaches forward to tuck a piece of hair behind my ear.

“I did.” I smile, “Believe it or not, I’m not always teasing you.”

“It’s okay if you were, surprisingly I like it when you tease me. You keep me on my toes.”

Harry shows me around slightly, a mini tour not going into it fully until we get to the master bedroom.

“Well this is my room.” He blushes, becoming his more shy side.

“It’s cute.” I smirk, “Do you have anything I could sleep in?”

“Yeah, of course.” He goes into his closet and comes back with a soft tee shirt and a pair of his boxers, “My bathrooms right through there.”

He gestures to the en suite. I go in to wash my face, brush my teeth with a spare toothbrush, and change. I decide the tee shirt is enough, it falls down far enough to feel comfortable. I fold my clothes and his boxers and leave them on the counter.

“You look way better in that than I do.” He admires from his bed, sitting up against his headboard.

“Tell me about it, stud.” I tease, throwing a Grease quote back at him. He lets out a loud laugh, not expecting the call back to the movie, little does he know I’ve been waiting to quote the movie since he did.

I walk over to his bed and pull back the covers to climb in, Harry sinks down next to me. I let out another loud yawn, Harry mimics it a second later. His warm arms wrap around my waist, pulling him closer to his side.

“Y/n?” Harry whispers after a few minutes of silence, checking to see if I’m still awake.

“Hmm?” I ask, struggling to keep my eyes open.

“Will you be my girlfriend?” His voice is just loud enough for me to hear it.

“Really?” I smile, turning around to see his face.

He nods, pressing a kiss to my temple.

“I get it if you think we’re moving too fast. If you don’t want the title that’s fine. I just want you to know that I’m not seeing anyone else, and I don’t want to pursue anyone else. I don’t want to play a game, I just want you.”

“I want you too, Harry.” I lightly trace my fingers over his jawline until I guide his face down to mine for a brief kiss.

“I would love to be your girlfriend.”

i hope you guys loved this part just as much as the first. xoxo

#harry styles imagine #harry styles x reader #Harry Styles

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