#the pettiness with the blood on the sheet music is still funny

[okaytosave]

A forgotten fear reminded and renewed; Lestat’s pettiness during the opera.

[tenpin-boleyn]

Rebellious Parr at School!

These were thought up by @wolfies-chew-toy and I- mostly MB- because Cathy going through teenage rebellion is I C O N I C

There are some teenage Anne in here too but mostly our girl Cathy P 🖤

Also I’m sorry about the length- I’m on mobile so I can’t add a read more :)

•Anne got her heelys confiscated, so she decided to sandpaper the bottom of her shoes so she can slide around like a penguin. No wheels? No problem.

•Catherine being the feminist icon that all teachers fear:

“NO I AM NOT READING ROMEO AND JULIET AS ITS A DEROGATORY REPRESENTATION OF WOMEN AND SHOULD BE TREATED AS SUCH”

Then Catherine promptly gets removed from the class.

“Catherine don’t you have English right now?”

“Don’t you have your funeral!!.... oh my god Mrs lynn I’m so sorry” because Cathy is a badass but she still has feelings

•Confusing the teachers on a daily basis:

"Hitler is kinda like Kim Jong Un dont you think?"

"Miss Parr and Miss Seymour what are you talking about?"

"Miss, isn't Kim Jong Un rather like Hitler?"

"Please stop discussing your Kpop idols in my class."

•The school has different colors led name tags for the different years, eg. Seventh year, yellow, eighth year green etc.

You can bet your ass Parr has a name tag in each colour and wears them all at once. It ranges from her actual name to Catradora. She has a name tag that just says CatParr420 and wears it everywhere.

And 90% of the time she wears a blank one and carries around a marker

“Umm excuse me what’s your name?”

Which prompts Cathy to draw on a fake name.

“Anita Willtolive”!

•She draws penises on all the whiteboards of every class she enters in permanent marker.

•One time the school used a drone to film the morning assembly and the noise annoyed Cathy so much she picked her book from morning reading up and h u r l e d it at the drone.

All you can hear before the recording stops is “YEET”

Did she get detention? Yes

Was it worth it? HELL YES

•You can bet your bottom dollar that Anne is in that detention too.

Anne's reasons for detention range from stuff like chatting to general shenaniganery but Cathy is just oPEN DEFIANCE

•She only is nice to her classmates

•And selected teachers

•She's a dick to everyone else

•But if she sees a kid on their own she’ll go out of her way to be lovely to them and to that one annoying teacher she hates, she’s a hell raiser

•She once moved the empty table next to her desk away to the other end of the class to stop teachers from sitting next to her- whilst the teacher was trying to sit at said desk.

•Catherine openly questioning EVERYTHING

“But if everyone is only nice to get into heaven surely that defeats the purpose and they’re being fake”

•She would fall asleep in front of the teacher

She'd just yell goodnight really loudly and knock out on her desk

•Honestly it’s a wonder she hasn’t been kicked out, but Jane thinks it’s because her grades bring up the school average

•She does her homework the moment she gets it and is finished by the end of the day

•Anne just puts in her file and lets it rot

•Parr gets in trouble for handing in Anne’s homework that Parr did but Anne has no idea. Cathy just wanted to make sure she didn’t fail

•Anne teaches Parr how to get discounts in the cafeteria, because Parr needs free cookies.

•Parr is Anne's defender when it comes to detentions

•She gives the teacher her Stare™️ and they instantly clam up

•Their detention desks are side by side and they have like those partners in crime necklaces but instead of two halves on their necklaces they’re carved into the tables

They they put them together they just line up

“Parr scares all the teachers except the German teacher who is literally Satan.

•Anne looks scary but she is basically harmless

•Parr looks like she wouldn't hurt a fly but given the chance she would 100% bite her teacher's hand off

•Anne has like five piercings and the messiest uniform in existence while Parr has only one piercing in each ear and the neatest uniform in existence but the moment Parr opens her mouth you better run

•She once bit a first year because they got in her way

•Cross any of Parr's friends or Parr herself and you might as well drop out because you'll be on a hit list for your whole education career

•She’s got a little black book of people that’s annoyed her because eventually she forgets but she’s too petty to let her memory get the better of her

•Anne has been on it at least once but Parr always strikes her name out

•She once kicked Parr in the stomach trying to show off her sandpapered shoes

•The shoe flew off and hit Parr in the stomach

She would have screamed at Anne but Anne’s puppy dog eyes are irresistible

Especially at 12 years old because she’s literally a baby

Like not even in a sexual way, you just can’t say no to those eyes

•Seymour has also been on the list once

But Parr got her revenge

What did Seymour do? She keeps taking Parrs highlighters

So Parr makes her pay money for every time she uses her highlighters

And one day a teacher sees and thinks it’s a drug deal

Every late payment is + 1 quid

Jane knows better than to accumulate late payments because Parr is ruthless when it comes to money

•When a classmate lost Parrs calculator and didn't pay her back, Parr literally carved owe money pay money onto her desk and got that person's friends to remind them daily till they paid her back

•Every time that person saw Parr in the hallways they'd turn around and head the other direction

•Tardies don't matter when the most trigger-happy person in school is out for your blood

•The day that she’s sat next to Parr in the seating plan is the day she moves schools

•Even then Parr still tracks her down

•She waits for them at the school gate with the most murderous smile on her face

•You just see Anne behind her chewing gum, snapping her fingers and doing jazz hands

•And the person is rapidly dialing their parents while screaming MOM COME PICK ME UP I'M SCARED

•Suddenly Aragon pulls up with the others and shouts at the pair “get in losers we’re going shopping”

"How the hell did you even find them Cathy?"

"I just followed the smell of crippling debt and it led me here."

“No seriously how?”

“Anne never turns her snapmaps off”

•Also Parr made the PE teacher cry more than once. More than twice. Okay it was 27 times.

•Parr has a pen knife and people try to confiscate it but she just brings out a printed sheet of paper that says that “a knife may be carried as a self defence weapon if it is under 9 inches and is retractable”

•She made the history teacher quit.

•One time she threatened to give someone salmonella because they were giving Anne and Kat a hard time

•Both Anne and Kat are in special ed and someone thought it'd be funny to bully them cuz of it

•She was skipping class in the toilets and two girls walk in and start bad mouthing Anne and Kitty so she kicks open her door and looks at them whilst sucking a lolly pop “hello bitches say goodbye to ur eyebrows”

•Parr is super defensive of the two of them

•She teases them sure but if anyone else tries, they have to sleep with one eye open

•Anne and Kat don't understand why people keep coming up and apologizing to them

•When they ask Parr, she just shrugs and smiles

•Parr used to be super motivated back in year seven. When year eleven rolled around, she became a little more rebellious, first the name tags, then the mouthing off. Then it escalated further and further. No one else but Parr and Anne knows what happened to cause this change

•Parr is soft for Anne and Kat and Anne and Kat alone

•She roughs up Aragon, Seymour and Cleves bc she knows they can take it. She's soft when she needs to be and not many people see that side of her

•Her favourite teachers rarely see that side either. Only during teacher's day when she sneaks into the staffroom to give them homemade cookies

•Parr wears leather jackets to class and no one dares question her.

•Anne learnt Chinese and how to play the guitar during detention so that she could sing for Parr the next time they had a session together

•Anne singing Unchained Melody exactly like in ghost the musical, and does the little elvis riff too

•Parr and Anne facetime and do Kahoots together because they need to study aka theyre competitive as shit

•Cathy gets excited in class and stands on her chair and yells "I KILLED SIRIUS BLACK I KILLED SIRIUS BLACK. U COMING TO KILL ME???" And promptly gets removed from the class.

•Parr gets a "Little Miss Adventurous" award for having the most travelled converstation.

BONUS:

•The queens doing that egg project where they have to bring an egg home and keep it for a week

•Anne calls hers Eggward Eggburt.

•Aragon drops it the moment she gets it

•Anne brings the egg home and makes it into an omelette

•Jane does well till the sixth day where she goes fuck it and uses it to bake cookies.

•Cleves breaks it during lunch after Anne called her a name and she threw it at her

•Kat gives hers to Jane and it's baked into chocolate chip cookies

•Parr shuts hers in the fridge for a week and takes it out at the end of the week

•Anne gets asked where her egg is and she pats her stomach which results in Kitty yelling “YOURE PREGNANT?!”

•Jane gets asked where her egg is and she holds up this cookie jar and offers the teacher one

•Parr is praised for being the only one in class for having an intact egg and then she grabs the egg and breaks it on the teacher's head cuz she 'needed to shut up'

[cyberdva]

Drummer Boy Part 10 Roger Taylor X Reader (John X Reader)

(Originally From My Wattpad 📓 @panicathetrash15 ) A/N: This took me a month to draft and 9 hours to write... enjoy 

Word Count: 2k Paring: Ben Hardy!Roger Taylor X Reader Warnings: Mentions Of Alcohol, Cursing, and Cheating {Angst}

Main Masterlist 

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3 

Part 3

Part 4

Part 5 

Part 6 

Part 7 

Part 8 

Part 9

_________

Y/N POV

_________

The thunder crashed loudly, as the power flickered on and off, another crash was heard from upstairs. Brian, John, and I tried to get any information from Freddie. We all stumbled up from where we were positioned before. I’m scared, I don’t know what is going on, is Tammy ok?

“Freddie what happened?” We began to scale the stairs, our mouths spat our bundles of questions. We couldn’t all fit up the stair and we uncomfortably slammed next to each.

“Tammy fell and hit her head on the corner of the table.” his expression was mortifying, it was a mix of shock and utter normality. This news wasn’t exactly awe-inspiring, Tammy was a very clumsy person, she has had her fair share of falls. Nothing like this though. We made it to the top floor and started looking around.

“Which room is she in?” I was jogging down the hallway frantically looking through rooms.

“The second guest room at the end of the hallway.” Freddie ran in front of me and almost tripped over a beer bottle. Is it Roger’s? Speaking of Roger, where is he? Shouldn’t he be concerned about his “girlfriend”? Are they actually dating? It’s kind of pathetic that Tammy acts so tough when I even make eye contact with Roger, which happens very rarely at this point. I feel like we hate each other and it’s going to stay that way for awhile.

“I found her!” Deaky had made it to the room with Freddie, “Come on Y/N.” Brian was tugging my arm, I reluctantly followed him. Another crash of lightning came bounding down from the sky, it was the loudest one yet. I jumped from the sound and entered the room. My eyes scanned the room, until they stopped on Tammy’s limp body, with what could only be blood seeping through her hair.

“What the hell happened?” I rushed to her side quickly. How? That’s all I have to say. “Did she drink?” I sighed, each day gets worse and worse.

“Not that I know. I’m pretty sure she fell.” Freddie came walking through the door.

“Well what are you doing? Call an ambulance.” We scurried around looking for a phone we could call someone on. I gave up and basically threw myself onto the floor, I’m too overwhelmed at this point. John came down to sit down with me, I must have looked so flustered, god it’s so embarrassing. I started to talk to him about tiny things and music became a swift topic.

I sighed, “We were supposed to practice tomorrow.” I trailed off with more of my relevant problems and John just nodded along.

“Of course everything revolves around you Y/N. If you haven’t noticed by now your friend is dying on the floor bleeding and what are you doing about it?” Roger stood in the doorway.

“Well what are you doing about Roger?” I sneered back.

“As much as I love drama, we have a conundrum, I don’t know how we didn’t notice this, we can’t call the police the phone is out.” Freddie pushed Roger out of the door.

“What?”

“The power is out and we can’t call anyone.” My grip on Tammy’s hair became tighter.

“John could you please get your car ready?” he gave me a small nod and flashed me that adorable smile. He dashed out the half closed door and Roger left. Good.

“Does anyone know where Cynthia is, she went to nursing school at one point. Maybe she can help?”

Everyone shook their heads no, god dammit. Everything is going wrong. Should I look for bandages, I might as well. I picked up Tammy and slid her back onto the floor. I could’ve sworn I saw her eyes open, weird. I heard a commotion coming from outside, walking over to the window I gazed outside. The streets were already starting to flood and it didn’t seem like the downpour was stopping anytime soon, I went back to Tammy and it seems her arm was now lying on the floor. That’s not how I left her, is it wrong that I feel skeptical. I pulled a stray hair away from her face, a sheet was nicely folded onto of the bed next to us, so I grabbed it and laid it over Tam. The bleeding looked the same as it did before. It stopped that quickly? Another glace out the window led me to see a frantic Freddie yelling at the sky. I could vaguely hear him screaming. Something about “the rain being a load of bollocks.” Genius Fred, like that will magically stop the rain.

Fred was completely soaked, when I turned around I was greeted by no one, I guess Brian left. Might as well check the bathroom. I sighed, before I made it to the bathroom John came tumbling back into the room. He was out of breath panting.

“Y/N, the car is useless, it’s about to flood”

“Yeah I saw. By the way do you have any first aid kits or supplies. If we find Cynthia or Crystal they can fix Tammy up.” John thought for a moment before he could restiger what I said. I was about to wave a hand in front of his face, he definitely zoned out. The conversation became gradually awkward.

“Oh, um, there’s some stuff in the cabinets and I last saw Cynthia going into the downstairs bathroom with Brian when I ran upstairs, do you want me to get him?” he scratched the back of neck and glanced at his feet.

“Yeah! That would be great!” He nodded, gave me a look of uncertainty and another lightning bolt came down from the sky and lit up the small room. Tammy twitched? She hates thunder and lighting, did she really pass out? John looked at her body and just left.What is up with everyone today?

The bathroom was my last resort, it was painted a nice shade of lime green the floor and shower tiles were pink to complement the green. Inside a woven basket was a white box with a red plus sign on it, finally. I peeked inside and it had everything I could use to help Tammy.

I carefully pulled out a needle from the box, my hand guided itself through her hair. The red substance was chunky, nothing like blood should be. Flakes of white were laced in the red blood. It was like cornstarch, pulling more threads of hair I could see no cute, no bruises, nothing that could have caused this much blood. I tried to think this through, anything that I could think of to proceed in this situation. Nothing came to mind. I layed the body down, I went to go seek out John. Why would Tammy lie about something so serious, she scared all of us. Was Freddie in on this, he was with her before the incident. My head hurt too much to comprehend it. My legs cracked and I groaned, my feet padded softly as I went to go find someone, anyone that could help me through what I’m seeing.

Half way down that same hallway the door to that “second guest bedroom at the end of the hallway” slammed shut. I jumped and the storm grew louder. I contemplated going downstairs or going back to the room. I went back and it was probably the worst decision I made. I cracked the door open and what I saw was mortifying. John was positioned in the small bed with a conscience Tammy making out. I slammed the door back shut and ran down the hallway. My breaths were inconsistent, before I knew it I collided head first with Roger. My head spun and a ringing sound flooding my ears. Beer was spilt all over me, my clothes were drenched in the sticky substance.

“Are you bloody serious?!” He was holding some sort beverage and it spilt all over us. I was too concerned with my own thoughts to even give a damn about Roger’s drink. I started jogging down the hallway while Roger spat out a string of curses. My first instinct was to sought out Brian since he was the one that made me think I had a chance with John. Turns out Roger was following me and still was bent out of shape.

“Am I not even going to get an apology?!” he whipped me right round, he was partially fuming. “Go check on your “girlfriend,” I spoke in a condescending tone he didn’t like. “She’s busy snogging John down the hall.” He shot me a look and rolled his eyes. “Very funny Y/N, I get we hate each other, but don’t bring Tammy into this.”

“I’m serious Roger go look.” he looked at me and glanced at the door. As if I was lying or something. Something clicked in his tiny brain and he headed towards the door. His face contorted into a mixture of a scowl or a frown when he heard what was going on. Just the petty conversations between John and Tammy. He pushed the door open and peaked his head in, then closed it with a bang. He looked betrayed, he’s probably going to take it out on me, right? He strutted back to me, and looked like he was going to cry.

“You’ve got to be kidding me.” As he rants I leaned against a wall, listening attentively. He went into how Tammy and him could’ve been his dream idea of a couple., a ‘power couple’ per say. I honestly can’t agree, but I kept my opinions to myself for my own benefit.

“I put time into dating a girl, and I rarely commit, only if I really like the girl. This time was different she used me to get to John. Is this something that you and your friends do. Make people upset and thrive off of it. Just to make me feel like this” Is he tearing up? Tammy can do some serious damage….

“Woah Rog, I think you’re cutting to conclusions here.” I put my hands up to signal defense, he really likes to start fights.

“Don’t call me Rog.” he huffed. “I’m struggling here. You should be listening.” he proceeded to cross his arms and I laughed while he shot me a glare.

“I can tell.” I patted his head, before I could hear his wrath I slipped my way downstairs and into the kitchen in look for some food. I raided some cabinets, not looking to take anything major. All I could muster up to read was a granola bar. I did find a large grandfather clock that was quite interesting. It was adorned in many engravings of leaves and flowers. Some of the pieces were painted in a lighter brown and it made it seem like the sun was shining on it. Stunning.

The clock read 6:56, today was pretty eventful, honestly not in a good way. I still can’t wrap my head around why John did that. I thought we had a thing going, I thought we loved each other. I mean I’m just a guitarist, who wants to date a guitarist? People find more interest in the drummer or the singer. What if the drummer is an inconsiderate asshole and the singer leaves at any waking moment, only to show up at the worse times.

Maybe a nap will help me balance my mind. A fire had been put in the fireplace, John’s living room was cozy, a perfect place to rest for the meantime. The sound of rain and fire cracking let me peacefully drift off to sleep, I dreamt that life was good, that Roger wasn’t mean, that John loved me, that my band was successful. I dreamt that I was loved for once.  If I knew what I had to face when I woke up, I would’ve just walked back home in the pouring rain.

[sadpoemsandsteverogers]

body say ↬ tommy shelby x reader

A/N: really hope you guys like this imagine. i wrote it all in just a little over two hours. not a song fic, but loosely based off of demi lovato’s song “body say”. hope you enjoy :) (gif isn’t mine) Warnings: sexual content, conversations of sex (no serious smut, still quite risque, though). Word Count: 2.7k+

~

Tommy Shelby was a man who loved to be in charge. He was dominant, demanding, and controlling. Those surface traits are what made him feared by all in Small Heath, Birmingham, and even those outside of it. He was notorious, in the worst definitions of the word. But the truth is, not even I could control the man that was Tommy Shelby.

Not yet.

If I had it my way, I’d take control. I’d let him know what was on my mind, what I wanted, and when I wanted it. I’d assert my dominance for a change, I’d be the one in charge. But I hadn’t brought myself to do it. I hadn’t brought myself to the point where I could give him a command without fear of retaliation. He always told me what to do: when to strip, faster, slower... and I wanted it to change. I wanted to make him watch me change, yet never be able to touch me.

Every woman has a deep, dark fantasy buried inside of her. No matter what it is and what nature it is of, it will claw it’s way to her surface eventually and make itself known. It will roar loudly, so loudly that it will shake the ground. 

Little did my husband know, that urge was rising like the tide on a stormy day, and there was nothing that could be done to stop it. 

Watching him mingle with the rest of the Blinders always brought a smile to my face. They cracked ridiculous jokes and make each other laugh, no matter how angry the other was. They were family, blood or not. The strongest gang with the strongest bond. 

Strongest bond, I chuckled to myself, I’d like to tie Tommy up with the strongest bonds and- 

I cut myself off, shaking my head in an attempt to get the obscene thoughts out of my head. They’d been surfacing like goosebumps, constantly covering my mind. It was scary, in all honesty. I was afraid that one of these days, my desire would be voiced involuntarily or by accident. The truth is, I’m at the edge. I’m about to break. It wasn’t safe for me to even open my mouth, or some obscene thought would try to slip out and I would have to cover it up with a cough of some sort. My sexual desire wasn’t fulfilled, hell, I hadn’t been fulfilled in what had seemed to be closing in on a month. Tommy had been so busy, coming home late and just having quick, genuine conversations with me. I wasn’t angry at him, nor did I suspect him of cheating. I was just.... frustrated. 

The event was just beginning, which made me sigh. I couldn’t wait to slip out of this pale blue floor-length dress, and the red lace that was underneath it. Just in case Tommy was in the mood, I had to be prepared. Besides, I looked good as hell in the little red one piece, and I paid a little too much for it.

I swirled my glass of whiskey in my hand, sitting at the bar. Music was blasting, people were dancing, it was a jolly good time. I wanted nothing more than to get out on that dance floor and dance with my husband, but at this point, that close proximity to him would push me off the edge to a dangerous place. I had seen Tommy floating around, greeting the people who attended the event. Our eyes had met a few times, crossing paths and saying unspoken words. It’s so funny, how you can read a person’s eyes and know exactly what they are saying without them saying a word. Tommy and I had that extreme level of communication under our belts, and it came in handy quite often. However, I could not bring myself to silently tell him what I wanted. There was no way that I could pull him away from an event that he was hosting. 

A tap on my shoulder pulled me out of the dark corners of my mind. I turned to see Michael Gray looking at me with a funny expression on his face. “You still with us, Y/N?” he questioned, slight concern in his voice.

I nodded. “Yeah, yeah. I’m fine, just a little tired is all.” It wasn’t exactly a lie, I were just tired of being bossed around in the bedroom. It was petty and quite frankly, ridiculous to be carrying this problem around with me, as it was visibly affecting my mood.

“Would you like to dance?” Michael asked, offering his hand. I set my whiskey down on the bar, taking Michael’s hand and gathering up my dress with my free one so that I wouldn’t trip over it. 

He stopped at a small space on the overly crowded dance floor. Jazz music played in the background, and the two of us took frame, bouncing in time to the beat. “You seem stressed.” he noticed.

I shrugged my shoulders. “A little. Tommy’s just been busy and I haven’t had a lot of time with him.” I kept the explanation short and sweet, hoping Michael would just move on from it, but a mischievous glint formed in his eyes.

“So you’re horny, eh?” his eyebrow raised and there was a teasing note in his voice, and I shoved his shoulder with a scoff.

“No need to proclaim it to the world, Michael.” I scolded, half-joking. 

He chuckled. “Have you proclaimed it to Tommy?” 

I shook my head, looking down a little bit. “No, I don’t want to bother him. He’s busy.” 

It was Michael’s turn to scoff. “You tryin’ to tell me that Tommy’s gonna turn down a fuck?” He began to laugh, and I did, too.

“No,” I started, once my laughter began to subside, “I just... I don’t know, Michael. It’s complicated.” 

“How complicated can it be? You’re married, you’re horny, just ask the man and you shall receive.” he stated, and I shook my head.

“That’s the problem.” 

Those three words slipped out before I could stop them, and I felt my face begin to heat up. The action went noticed by Michael, who just studied you for a few seconds. “What is it, Y/N?” he asked, even though he knew he wouldn’t get an answer.

But my bashful silence was answer enough. “Oh my Lord,” he began laughing loudly, almost so loudly you could hear it over the roaring music, “you want to dom-”

I slapped his shoulder harshly, hoping he would lower his voice. He did, but he still laughed. “You want to dominate Tommy Shelby?” 

“I’m his wife.” I defended. “Is it so wrong?”

Michael shook his head. “No, it’s not wrong. But it’s Tommy fuckin’ Shelby. He’s probably not gonna let that go down easy.” 

I stayed silent, replaying Michael’s words in my head. He’s Tommy fucking Shelby, he’s probably not gonna let that go down easy.

It was like a light bulb went off over my head. “You’re right, Michael.” 

“About what?” 

“He may be Thomas fucking Shelby,” I stopped, a smirk growing on my face, “but I’m Y/N fucking Shelby. And if anybody’s gonna get that man down on his knees, it’s gonna be me.” 

My words came out with passion, determination, and had a hint of domination in them. I had a point, after all. If I wanted Tommy so bad, I was going to take him. My way. And I knew just how to do it.

The song ended, and I thanked Michael for the dance. He sent me a joking wink and a growl of encouragement after it was over, letting me know that he was rooting for me. It made me laugh as I turned away and headed back towards my seat at the bar.

Little did I know, Tommy had seen my whole encounter with Michael. And he didn’t like it, not one bit. The green rage monster we often refer to as jealousy had sprung up from his depths, ready to fight. More accurately, to claim what was his.

But the rage monster that belonged to my husband was going to have to face the tiger that belong to me. A fair fight, but one that I had already won.

After sitting at the bar for a half an hour, I felt a hand press against the small of my back, which caused me to instantly straighten up. “’s just me, love.” Tommy’s voice greeted me, and it simultaneously calmed me and sent a shock wave down to my core. The hardest battles never were won easily. 

“How’s the party going, dear? Are the guests enjoying themselves?” I asked, watching Tommy take a sip of his whiskey. 

He nodded. “They are. Including Michael, who I saw dancing with you earlier.”

Ah, there it was. The jealous monster, the monster that was the first key to torturing Tommy. 

“You two were having quite the laugh, weren’t you, love?” Tommy’s voice changed tones, from normal to almost threatening. 

“We were.” I smiled as I remembered the conversation I had with Tommy’s cousin. 

“You know, it’s been a while since I’ve made you laugh. It hurt to see another man do that to ya.” Tommy began, setting his whiskey glass down at the bar. He took a seat on the stool next to me, leaning so close to me that I could feel the warmth of his breath. “You know what else it’s been a while since?” he asked.

“Hm?” I asked, nudging him on.

“Since I’ve made you moan. Made you scream my name. It’s been what, a month, love?” his voice wasn’t rough, but felt like silk sheets on freshly shaved legs. 

“Just about.” I answered.

“And you do realize, I need to remind you of the fact that it’s my job to make you laugh, not Michael’s, right?” he asked, and I knew exactly where he thought this was going. 

And I knew exactly how to prove him wrong.

“No.” 

The syllable fell from my lips sternly, and Tommy’s eyes practically fell out of his head. His eyebrows had raised considerably, because I’d never voiced defiance so bravely before.

“No?” he repeated, almost as if he was giving me a chance to correct myself.

“It’s kind of loud in here.” I commented, leaning closer to him. My lips grazed the shell of his ear as I whispered the word again. “No.” 

Again, he was taken aback by this attitude you had pulled out of nowhere. “What do you mean, love? Are you willing to offer some clarification?” Tommy’s voice was treading a line of threatening and... nervous. Have I made her upset? Offended her in some way? Neglected her? His thoughts ran wild. He wasn’t sure why I was acting this way. 

I turned the stool so my body was facing his. I leaned towards him, so my words could be heard by him and only him. “You want to take me home, bend me over a desk and grip my hair harshly as you remind me who I belong to. You want to hold both of my wrists over my head with your firm grasp as you snap your hips into me, slowly, and then quickly. You want to make me come again, and again, and again. You want to remind me who makes me feel this way, make me scream your name until my voice is hoarse. Am I wrong?”

He was speechless for a few moments, as I’d never spoken to him this way before. It took him a little bit to gather his thoughts and find his almost lost ability to speak. “No, you’re not wrong.” 

A smirk crossed my face. “Let me tell you something, Thomas.” His name fell off my lips, almost as if I were about to threaten him, “If I had it my way, I would take the lead. I would be the one in control, and you would be at my mercy. I would be the one to control how deep within me you’d go. If I were the one in charge, I would remind you who you belong to. I’d tie you up, teasing and taunting you with my scent, and my slick. I’d get a vital pleasure from watching your eyes as they follow my hands, and from hearing your voice crack as you’d beg for me to touch you, or, beg to let you touch me. I’d strip you down and leave you naked on our bed. I’d stand with my back to you, taking of this dress and showing you all the red lace that hugs me underneath. And then I’d take it off, without your help. And I’d stand with my back to you, blocking you from the view you want the most. I’d tease you with my eyes and I’d push you to your edge, again, and again, and again.” I repeated my words from earlier. “Until finally, I’d sink down onto you and untie one of your hands, on the condition that you touch me slowly. You’d take my orders as I told you what speed I wanted it at, my name would fall from your lips until you’d gone hoarse. And eventually, I wouldn’t be able to resist the feeling of both hands on me, so I’d untie the other one, letting you hold me while I made love to you and tasted you. I’d make you scream my name, and I’d make you submit to my every touch and every word. I’d be the one to fuck you, and tease you, and bounce on you. I would be the one to call the shots, you’d serve at my pleasure. Only my pleasure.” 

Tommy was still, unmoving. His eyes were frozen as they looked into mine. For a small second, my confidence faltered. I wondered if I’d pushed it too far, made him upset at my words. I did say he’d serve at my pleasure, and that’s not me saying he never has before, but....

My thoughts trailed off once I heard his breathing. It was ragged, almost as if he was panting. He hadn’t uttered a word, and it was that moment that brought my confidence back. The tables had turned. My hungry tiger had defeated his jealous green rage monster. 

“But then again, that’s just what would happen if I were in control,” I sighed dramatically, turning my body back towards the bar. “But I’m not.” 

It was almost as if my words snapped him out of a trance. I watched as his eyes slowly closed, like he was trying to compose himself. Before he could get out a word in response, my hand found it’s way on his thigh. He reacted with wide eyes and a sharp intake of breath, almost as if he had been electrocuted. 

“So, if you’ll exc-” I stopped myself. I didn’t need to excuse myself, I didn’t need to ask him if I could. I didn’t need his permission. I’m in control, not him. “I’m going to go find Ada and share a dance with her. Have fun greeting the rest of your guests, my sweet.” My voice was teasing, and I could tell that he was crumbling more and more with every word I spoke. 

Turning on my heel, I walked away to find Ada. I didn’t even look back at Tommy, because if I did, I would have taken him in front of every single person at this party. 

His pupils were wide and dark, his jaw set and nostrils borderline flaring. His eyes watched as I walked away, observing the swing of my hips and the broad confidence of my shoulders. His mouth was dry, but his lips were parted slightly, almost as if he were going to call after me. But he didn’t. And even if he did, I wouldn’t have turned around.

Because it was no longer “if” I had a say. I had a hell of a lot more than just “if my body had a say”, my body commanded.

NARRARATION:

And as she began to dance to the upbeat jazz music, Tommy realized that he would listen to every command that rolled off her tongue like a trained dog. He would gladly give in to submission if it meant one night of overflowing confidence from Y/N. He’d give anything to watch her sit on top of him, with her head thrown back and her eyes shut. 

He’d listen to every single command that her body had to say.

[filmflowersbangtan]

Heartbreaker with a Heart of Gold

inspired by this song

pairing: rockstar!jungkook x reader

genre: angst, smut 

word count: 3.8k

a/n: this was supposed to be a short drabble, and originally the reader was supposed to be the one who broke the heart (hence the song) and it definitely wasn’t supposed to be this angsty, but oh well. Anyways, hope you enjoy! 

You’re just getting out of work, and as soon as you turn on your car, you hear it. That stupid song that can’t seem to leave you alone. Jungkook, the lead singer of the hit rock band, Burning Rabbit, croons from the speakers along to the pop punk guitar chords about how he misses the girl who broke his heart. It’s a catchy song, you can’t lie, but the fact that it’s about you and how he makes it seem like he is so heartbroken about your break up makes you want to punch him every time it comes on.

“you know I miss when we’d kiss and it’d smear your lipstick”

You can’t turn off the radio quick enough.

It was around this time almost three years ago when Jungkook moved to LA after his band got signed to a famous record label. He told you that he’d keep in contact with you. That he’d visit as much as he could. That he loved you. But about a month after leaving, he stopped texting and calling as much. And then a mere week after the band’s first EP dropped, Burning Rabbit was a sensation.

For a short time, you were happy for him. Proud, even. But then a few days later, the magazines and articles on every pop culture website was imploding with news about how he was dating a beautiful actress.

It hurt, but you were angrier than you were sad. You called him that night after finishing an entire bottle of Smirnoff and poured out your grievances, including more swear words in your sentences than you ever would sober and calling him every demeaning word that you could think of. You told him that you hated him. You told him that you never wanted to talk to him ever again… Only to realize that Jungkook didn’t have that number anymore and you were screaming at a complete stranger.

Jungkook broke up with the actress, but then there were other girls. He dated them for weeks at most, and he quickly gained the title of “heartbreaker” in the tabloids.

You cried for days straight. With the help of your friends, you slowly got over Jungkook, but you kept relapsing every time his face popped up on an advertisement on TV, on a billboard or on any popular app on your phone. You lurked on his Instagram, which now had millions of followers. His face, his smile, his laugh. You missed him so much that it physically hurt.

And then when you really believed that you were over him, Burning Rabbits’ songs were all over the radio again and appearing in popular playlists on Spotify when they dropped their first album. Jungkook was inescapable. But you turned all that heartache into hatred to help cope.

Three years passed. Jungkook going through girlfriends like disposable coffee cups no longer made you want to cry. It was only pathetic to you. And then there was some rumors about Jungkook leaving the band, but then they put out a second album together.

When you found out the name of the very first track on the album, it made you outraged.

The music store around the corner from your house was always your favorite place to go to, but since you met Jungkook there, you had avoided it for a while. Now that you were completely over Jungkook, you were okay with going back. It was out of pure curiosity when you picked up the Burning Rabbits album, but you did not expect Jungkook to be that petty.  

“Me? How could he name a song after me?” you shouted, holding up the plastic album case in your hand as if you were going to hurl it across the room.

Your best friend, Joy, glanced uneasily around the store. “Y/N, calm down. We’re in public,” she said with both of her hands out like you were a wild animal that she was trying to pacify.

“Should I sue him? I think I should sue him.” Your voice was still three octaves higher than any normal person inside of a record store would have. You were aware that people were looking at you, even though they were trying to pretend that they weren’t, but you didn’t care.

“You can’t sue Jungkook. Do you know how many teenage girls will come for your head?” Joy said.

“I don’t care. I just need to do something. He can’t just treat me like that and then name a song after me.”

Joy’s ears were red. “If you’re upset about the title,” she muttered sheepishly, “then you’ll be really pissed when you hear the song.”

An hour later, you listened to the song. It wasn’t hard to find since Burning Rabbits was the “hot, new thing” out at the moment.

“help me understand your pain, your ache, your loving”

That was when you turned off the song. Hot, angry tears were streaming down your face. You didn’t know what to do. You wanted to scream. You wanted to call Jungkook and yell in his ear again, but you knew that it was no use. Even if he did still have his old phone number, three years had already passed since your break up, and you didn’t want him to know that he still affected you.

Now, you’re kicking off your shoes and rubbing your neck. All you really want to do is soak in a hot bath and curl up in bed on your clean sheets. You have the water running and you’re just about to disrobe when your doorbell rings. 

From the bathroom, you call, “Who is it?” You have to shout over the water, so maybe the visitor doesn’t hear you. It’s strange. Your friends know to call or text before stopping by, and there are no notifications on your phone. With a sigh, you go to the door and peer out the peephole.

You don’t recognize the person. There is a black mask covering his nose and mouth, and he’s looking down at his feet, so his shaggy hair shields his eyes. “Um, who is it?” you repeat.

The person clears their throat. “Hey, uh, it’s me.” He lowers his voice a little, “Jungkook.”

For a split second, your blood runs cold. But then you laugh. It must be one of your male friends thinking that it’ll be funny to prank you like this now that you don’t show any signs of pining for the famous man anymore. It has to be. With a smile, you open the door. “You assh–”

But then your eyes meet his. Those are the eyes that you fell in love with six years ago, sophomore year of college, right in that music store when you saw him testing out a guitar. You worked there, and you asked if he was finding everything okay. He looked up from strumming the guitar, tossing the dark bangs from his eyes. With a smile, he said, “Yeah, I think I am now.”

“Hey,” he says now.

That simple word bounces around in the sudden emptiness in your head like a steel ball in a pinball machine. After a few silent seconds of staring at him, your senses comes back to you. As involuntary as your heart beating, your hand lifts and slaps Jungkook right across the face.

He rubs his fingers across his cheek while nodding. He pulls the mask down from his mouth before saying, “I guess I deserved that.”

“What the hell are you doing here?” you say. Your chest heaves like you had been doing cardio exercise for thirty minutes. There are a million and one things that you want to say to him, but all the words jumble and trip over one another leaving you breathless and frustrated.

“You changed your phone number.” He says this so simply like you both are on good terms. Like you got a new number and just forgot to tell him, not because he broke your heart in a thousand pieces and you were scared that he’d call one day and you’d be too weak to not answer.

“No, I mean like, what the hell are you doing here?” Tears are trying to claw their way up your throat, and you hate that feeling.

There is confusion in his eyes. “I just wanted to see you, Y/N.”

You shake your head and blink a few times to recollect your thoughts. “Are you insane? What makes you think that you can just leave and stop talking to me and then start dating other people without us even being officially broken up? What makes you think that it’s even okay to be here talking to me after three years? What, because you wrote a bad song about me? Go fuck yourself, Jungkook.”

You move to close the door, but his hand shoots out to stop it. “Please. Please hear me out.” His eyes are filled to the brim with desperation. “I know I fucked up, but please, can you hear my side of the story? Please?”

You are still breathing heavy from the anger coursing through your veins, but there is a sincerity in his eyes that makes you cave. “Okay. You get five minutes.”

He nods, exhaling a breath in relief. You widen the door for him.

Jungkook steps inside of your apartment. He seems so big inside of the tiny space, and you’re about to ask him how he found out your address, but you already know that Joy must’ve been the one to tell him. She never changes her phone number and she’s always been soft for him.

Jungkook only takes a seat when you tell him that he can. And when you say, “Okay, what’s ‘your side of the story?’” he takes a deep breath and his words spill like a broken faucet.

He starts from the beginning: The record label was controlling and told him that he couldn’t keep in contact with his friends. They withheld his personal phone, telling him that they’d give it back when he “gains privileges.” They had him date certain girls for certain amounts of time to help him gain popularity. He had no creative control over his music for two whole years, and for a while he went with it because it brought him and his band a lot of money and popularity. But he felt like an empty shell. He missed his friends. He wanted creative control over his music. And with every fiber in his being, he missed you. So, he hired a lawyer and broke the contract. He left the company, and he didn’t expect the band to come with him, but they did. They joined a different company that treated them fairly, and they came out with their current album. The one with your song. He tried getting in contact with everyone, but nearly everyone either had a different number or didn’t want to talk to him. But then Joy caved and talked to him, but she told him to give you a little more time. He only waited a few weeks before he asked for your address and decided to show up at your door.

He takes another breath when he finishes his story. His eyes search yours for forgiveness, but you’ve been angry at him for so long that you honestly don’t know how to feel.

“How am I supposed to believe you, Jungkook? That sounds a little outrageous. Your company was keeping you from talking to me? You couldn’t talk to me nor any of our friends at all?” Something deep down inside of you believes him, but you can’t help but give him a hard time. That’s the only way that you are keeping yourself from crying at just the sight of him sitting across from you on your very own sofa.

“I know, it sounds unbelievable, and if I really tried hard enough, I could’ve snuck around and kept in contact, but I really wanted to trust them. I really wanted the band to get famous, so I let them do whatever they wanted.”

“Even if that meant letting me go?” your voice quivers a bit, and you clench your hands, letting your nails bite into the palms of your hands to steady yourself.

He looks down at his feet. With a defeated voice, he whispers, “Yes.”

You turn your eyes up to the ceiling to keep the tears from falling and take a deep breath.

That’s when you hear the water hitting the floor.

“Shit!” you shout and jump up to race to the bathroom. Water is all over the tile floor. You hastily shut the tap off. You pull the folded towels off a nearby shelf and flatten them on the floor to soak up the water.

Jungkook hovers by the open door, looking unsure of himself.

“Don’t just stand there,” you say, tossing a few towels at him. He catches them effortlessly. “If you’re going to be here, at least make yourself useful.”

He nods. “Right. Sorry.” He kneels beside you and wipes up the water along with you.

It’s insane to think about, really. Jungkook, the country’s most well-known and beloved “bad boy,” dubbed the “heartbreaker with a heart of gold” after releasing that song about you. Jungkook, who you were so very in love with but left you behind in exchange for fame is now in your tiny bathroom on his knees, mopping up water with you. It’s so incredulous that you find yourself laughing.

Jungkook pauses to look at you. His eyes are wide and concerned, and you’re amazed at how in pictures taken by paparazzi, they are so emotionless, but now they are as open and readable as they’d ever been. He smells like expensive cologne – shit that he could never afford in college – and your laughter segues into tears as he watches you fall apart like a madwoman.

Your pants are soaked as you sit on the damp floor, but you don’t care. You pull your knees up to your chest and you cry hard like you did in those days when Jungkook first broke your heart. Now he’s here in front of you, popping open the stitches that you’d fooled yourself into thinking were healed without even trying.

“Oh, baby,” Jungkook says. If you could talk through your wall of tears, you would tell him not to call you ‘baby.’ You would tell him that he lost that privilege. But you don’t, and you don’t stop him from crawling over to you and enveloping you in his arms. You nestle your face into his soft fleece sweatshirt and curl your fingers into the baggy fabric as you sob. God, you missed him so much.

“I’m sorry,” Jungkook whispers into your hair. “I’m so fucking sorry that I did this to you.” He holds you on the floor for so long that his legs are probably cramping, but he doesn’t complain.

“I just –” your voice cracks when you finally decide to speak. Your tears have dwindled. Now, not only are his pants legs wet, but his sweatshirt is soaked as well.

“Take your time,” Jungkook murmurs. His hand continues to rub deep, soothing circles between your shoulder blades. “I’m listening.”

“I just need to change out of these clothes,” you say because you don’t think you can say anything else at the moment.

“Okay,” he says in an understanding tone. His knees crack when he stands up. He reaches out for your hand to help you up. You take it.

You don’t want to look at him. Your eyes are probably red, and you know you look like a mess from crying and from having a shitty day at work. And you don’t want to look into those eyes of his. Those are the eyes that songs are written for. Those are the eyes that made the entire country fall in love with him.

“Jungkook,” you say. The bathroom is so small that your lower back is pressing against the sink and Jungkook is so close that you have to tilt your head up to look at him.

His eyes pierce right into yours, making it harder for you to breathe. “Yeah?”

“Why are you here? Why, after all this time did you come back?” Why come back to you when there are literally millions of girls that he can start over with? Yeah, he wrote a song about you, but why come back at all? He had to have known that you weren’t going to fall back into his arms in glee.

“Because it’s you,” he says softly, almost like he’s embarrassed. “How could I not come back? You’re all I could think about for three years.” His neck slightly turns red under your stare and he scratches at the back of his head, a sign that he’s feeling self-conscious.

You bite your lip when you feel your chest tighten. Your veins are thrumming again, but there is no anger this time. “Do you love me?”

He doesn’t hesitate. “I never stopped.”

All the air in the bathroom is gone. Your mind is screaming at you to do something instead of stare at him. All your thoughts are mixed together like alphabet soup. He must feel the shift in the air because his breathing is shallow, and he swallows thickly.

He slowly lifts a hand. With a bated breath, you watch him use his little finger to gently tuck around your own. Your eyes flick up to look at his face. He’s watching your hands, gradually slipping his hand in yours when you don’t pull away. His palm is warm and damp inside of your own. You don’t know if it’s your heartbeat or his that you hear.

You tug him closer to you. So close that his chest presses against yours. So close that now you’re craning your neck to look at his face.  

His eyes are dark and intense, but still concerned and gentle somehow. You trace the hard line of his jaw with your fingertips. His eyelids flutter closed. You run the pad of your thumb over his full bottom lip. He inhales deeply. This is the same Jungkook that you fell in love with so long ago. There is no need to learn the lines of him all over again.

“Is it okay if I kiss you?” he whispers.

You nod, all words failing you.

He lets go of your hand to slip his fingers up the plane of your back and curl them around the back of your neck. His lips touch yours for the first time in what feels like forever. You sigh into his mouth.

His kisses are gentle and unsure in the beginning like he’s exploring you for the very first time. Subtle pecks on the corner of your mouth and on your cheekbone. You card a hand through his hair. It’s softer and silkier than you remember.

His hands are on your hips, waist, thighs now. They’re hungrier and more impatient than his mouth. He bunches up the bottom of your shirt, the skin of his palm coming in direct contact with the skin of your waist.

He’s abandoned your mouth to suck and bite on the expanse of your neck. You moan. This wakens something inside of him, and his kisses match the zealous pace of his hands. He lifts you up onto the sink, and you wrap your legs around his waist, pulling him closer, feeling the erection rub against your core. He grinds into you, his breaths quickening into desperate pants.

“I wanted to hate you,” you say, throwing your arms around his neck as his hips thrust into your clothed core, making you feel better than any other man that you’ve been with in the past three years ever has. “I thought I hated you for the longest time, but – ah – Jungkook, I love you so much that it drives me crazy.”

He’s sucking bruises into the skin of your collarbones, his hands under your shirt, and your clothes feel like such a burden. “I’ve missed everything about you,” he breathes. “I’ve especially missed the way you say my name.”

You push your hands under his sweatshirt. He lifts his arms and you successfully yank the fabric off, tossing it onto the floor. You drink him up with your eyes. He’s more toned than before, his muscles rippling with ever subtle move of his body. The heat between your thighs is unbearable.

You both don’t make it to the bedroom. The couch is closer. Jungkook carries you, tripping along the way because you don’t stop kissing him. He falls on top of you on the couch and you both kick off the rest of your clothes.

He kisses you, long and slow as he lines himself up to your entrance. “I love you,” he whispers against your lips.

“I love you, too,” you repeat.

He’s trembling as he pushes himself into you. You gasp into his mouth at the mixture of pain and pleasure. He lets you get adjusted to his girth, peppering kisses all over your face in the meantime.

When he starts to move, you know that you’re not going to last long. He buries his face into the crook of your neck, whispering a mantra of “I love you” and “fuck, you’re so beautiful.” His thrusts are deep and slow like he’s trying to savor this moment, but you’re already so, so close and the way that he’s breathing into your ear –

A white surge of electricity surges through you, making your toes curl and your body arch. You dig your nails into the hard muscles of his back, making him hiss.

“Oh, Y/N, I’m not going to last long with you squeezing around me like that – ah – I’m –” His moans kick off into whines and his thrusts turn shallow. You bite your lip at the oversensitivity, but you clench around him to help milk out his orgasm. He twitches and spills into you, all the energy trickling out of him. He sighs in content and lies on top of you, closing his eyes.

“I could lie here forever,” he mumbles, sleep already calling to him. “Your arms are the only place that I want to be.”

You push your fingers idly through his hair and laugh softly. “Why does that sound like it could be song lyrics?”

“They probably are. I’ve written so many songs for you that I can’t keep track of them all.”

A warm feeling spreads in your chest, slow and warm like honey. “Are they anything like the one playing on the radio?”

A sleepy smile plays on his lips. “No. That one was only to get your attention. All the others are softer and sweeter, just how you like.” His words are slurred now. He’s silent for so long that for a moment, you think that he’s asleep, but he calls your name. 

“Hm?” you say. 

“I don’t plan on writing any other songs unless they’re about you.”

You smile, and when you turn to look at him where he has his face resting in the curve of your neck, he’s fast asleep.