#this song is Me to a T. not just on my worst days either.

[musicrunsthroughmysoul]

I still cannot believe that at the Meet Me @ The Altar show I went to last year, Edith was so shy about performing "T.M.I" (before they played it, her explanation was something like she felt awkward about it/wasn't sure how we'd react to it) because I was screaming in my head 'With lyrics like "Stupid self-sabotage every time" HOW COULD WE NOT LOVE AND RELATE TO IT?'

[bratphilia]

his bunny (w. afton x reader)

request: "hii!! i have been obsessed with your lillard!afton fics lately and i just have to ask you to write another. i was wondering if you could do something like afab! reader is a student in college and william is her engineering professor? she is purposefully failing his class just to get his attention and some “extra credit”. but little does she know william has been obsessed with her ever since she stepped foot in his class. if it helps, teachers pet by melanie martinez could have a huge influence on this. thank you so so much!! ♡♡"

note: thank you so much, i'm glad you've been enjoying the content i've been putting out! fun fact i was obsessed with this song when k-12 first came out. also professor!william has been on my mind recently so i'm glad you requested this!! the e-mail section is a little awkward because i absolutely hate using "y/n"

pairing: steve raglan / william afton x reader

tags: age gap (reader is college age 18-21 and william is 45-50), creepy and stalking behavior from william, oral sex (m receiving), facial, dirty talk, slut-shaming, mean dom!william, desk sex

engineering. your worst class. not because you were bad at it or anything. it was all your professor.

and no, not because he's a bad teacher either. he's just so fucking hot it makes your brain go fuzzy every time he speaks. he lectures with his large hands enthusiastically. he always wears some form of purple on him, whether it's a tie or his slacks. everything about him is so intoxicating.

but he's never noticed you.

not when you try to catch his eye before and after class. not when you greet him with a "good morning, sir." and every time you've attended his office hours, a fucking ta helps you every single time. it's making you go crazy, not getting what you want.

you even started to wear increasingly skimpier outfits. you always stick to a theme of a sexy school girl, even going as far enough to buy more short skirts and thigh high socks or leg warmers. the buttons of the blouses you wear paired with them are always unbuttoned just to show a peak of cleavage. you ignore the hungry and curious eyes of your other peers as you walk by them; it's not their attention you want. still, you feel a little silly putting in all this effort just for him to barely grumble a reply back to you at your futile efforts to talk to him.

so you put a plan in action. you either purposefully turn in every piece of homework late and answer most, if not all, the questions of your quizzes and mid-term until you're sure you're at the very bottom of the class grades-wise.

in fact, you wake up the day after your mid-term to an e-mail from professor raglan. the subject was titled "Meeting Request" with your name addressed at the beginning.

"I would like to arrange a meeting with you to discuss the current state of your progress in my class. After your most recent assessment and previous assignments, I'm concerned about your future in my class if you continue the pattern I am seeing reflected in your work. Let me know if tonight at 5:00pm works for you.

Thank you,

Professor Raglan"

any regular person's heart would have sunk to the pit of their stomach if they received that e-mail. however, you are not a normal person. your heart fucking soars. you immediately jump to respond in confirmation.

professor raglan knows better than to get caught up with students, but he just can't help it! you're too beautiful to ignore.

the craziest part is he knows what game you're playing. the outfits that reflect nothing but a stereotypical, sexy school girl you would see in a porn video. and especially the way your grades have dropped recently, when you started off being one of the brightest students in his class.

over time, he noticed your lack of participation in class. at first, he chalked it up to something more serious, like personal issues. and then he noticed those lingering stares, the way you chew your pen, twirl your hair, and rub your thighs together. he knows exactly what you're doing, and he's been ignoring you on purpose. he wants you to chase after him, to let him know what you really want, but you just won't. he partially doesn't blame you either, it would be highly inappropriate for a student to engage that way towards their professor. so he ignores you during class. he barely acknowledges the way you've tried to grab his attention.

steve more than reciprocates your feelings. in fact, he's probably more enamored with you than you can possible imagine. he has all your homework, your essays, even your mid-term saved digitally in a folder, with your name as the title, on his computer. he reads looks over them when he's taking a break from grading as a way to detox, which sometimes ends up in him masturbating thinking about you. he loves to read the failed work from his dumb little bunny.

he even followed you home once. he kept close distance away from you, hiding in the shadows of every corner you turned. it's the william in him that wants that does the stalking, he convinces himself. the hyde to his jekyll; his true self coming to show in the role he plays of an average college professor, a totally normal guy with a few quirks.

your room, conveniently let him catch a peep of you touching yourself, and you swore you saw you mouth the word 'professor' when you brought yourself to orgasm.

and so he decides to play your little game. after all, you created the perfect opportunity for him, and he's going to take the bait.

steve sits at his desk, grading the rest of the mid-term papers, while he awaits your arrival. your own paper is sitting separate from the other stack, easily accessible so the two of you can get straight to "talking" about it as soon as possible.

he hears a tell-tale knock at his door, and he tries not to answer with a smile in his voice as he calls out, "come in."

you open the door gingerly, and it takes everything in him not to eye you up and down, but at first glance he knows you're in your usual get-up. it's a pretty little number; white, short-sleeved blouse, black pleated skirt that stops around mid-thigh, and white socks that reach just above your knees. you smile at him, hands clasped behind your back, puffing forward your chest slightly.

"good evening, professor raglan," you say in an oh-so innocent tone, "you wanted to speak with me?"

god, the way you call him professor goes straight to his cock. "yes. sit down," he tells you, gesturing towards the chair in front of his desk.

you sit down and your professor clasps his hands, leaning back in his chair. "i hope my e-mail didn't worry you. this will be quick."

he watches your face fall at his last few words and he has to bite back his amusement. "you see," he starts, taking your paper and pretending to look at your paper, "you didn't answer a single thing correctly. everything was wrong. it's funny, because i've heard nothing but good reports from the ta's that have helped you during office hours."

you lean closer as he continues. a plethora of excuses come to mind, none of which seem adequate for the situation he's putting it. "so i'm just wondering, how dumb do you think i am?"

your mouth slightly falls open. that was not the reaction you intended to invoke from him. "i—i can explain, i just need more—"

he rolls his eyes. "don't give me that. i'm not an idiot like you clearly are."

if anyone else had called you an idiot, you would have been offended, but from him? it goes straight to your pussy.

you purse your lips and rub your thighs together, waiting for him to continue to berate you. "is it extra credit you want?"

"yes, professor," you answer.

"then get on your knees, slut."

he rolls his chair back to make room for you and watches as you make your way in front of him. you get on your knees as he instructed, waiting expectantly.

"do i have to do everything for you?" he sighs in faux disappointment. he loves your shocked reaction that this is even really happening to you. "you wanted this so take my cock out."

"no, professor," you mumble, reaching for the buttons of his slacks. there's an obvious bulge tenting in his pants that almost makes you salivate.

you pull out his cock from his boxers and he shivers at how cold your hands are. you must be freezing wearing that outfit, he realizes. and, fuck, are your hands so much smaller that his. you begin by pumping him and then reach to kitten lick his tip.

you start to suck on the tip and he sucks air between his teeth sharply. it feels like heaven but he can't take your teasing anymore. he grasps your hair, making a make shift ponytail, and guides your mouth to slowly lower down on his cock. you moan around him causing a pleasurable vibration. he continues to use your hair as a way to control your mouth moving in a slow, up and down motion.

"ah — shit — stay still for me, yeah, baby?" he asks breathlessly. you do as he says, keeping your neck still as he begins to thrust into your mouth.

he bucks into you, grunting about what a "tight mouth you have" and how "you're such a dirty whore for your professor." you moan around his cock at his words, only encouraging his movements. the gurgling and gawk noises coming from your throat make him impossibly harder. the grasp on your hair becomes tighter and his thrusts more erratic. he's close.

before steve comes, he moves your mouth off and begins pumping himself. you watch him eagerly as he never breaks eye contact from you. when he does, it's when he shuts his eyes and groans, spurts of his come painting your face, your neck, and top.

you look so beautiful like this, he thinks, but it comes out as, "you look like such a messy whore."

you blush and lick the ejaculate around your mouth. steve grabs your hand and pulls you to your feet. you feel a little unstable but he's pushing you face forward against his desk. he lifts your skirt, which he doesn't bother taking off, only to reveal your thong. of course.

"were you expecting this?" he asks with a chuckle. he pulls your thong and lets it snap against your ass, making you yelp.

"no, but i came prepared," you say boldly.

he tsks. "such a slut."

steve prods his cock at your entrance, making you wiggle your hips when he slides it up and down your slit. you wish he would just stick it in already, but he's bent on teasing you until you can't take it anymore. he wants you to beg for him.

he moves your hair to the side to whisper in your ear. "tell me what you want, bunny."

you whimper at the close proximity. you can feel his beard brushing against your cheek. "need your cock, sir. been wanting it for awhile."

"oh, i know," he says, and you can feel the smile spreading across his face. "just wanted to hear you say it."

with that he presses inside of you, filling you up inch by inch, agonizingly slow. you whine desperately, wanting more. your fingers dig into the desk. he slips out for a moment and slams back in, filling you to the hilt. from that point forward, he starts thrusting at gradually faster pace.

the room is obscenely filled with the sounds of both of your pants and the sounds of skin slapping against skin. he punctuates every thrust with a degrading phrase. it gets you even hotter.

before you know it you're close. clawing behind you, desperate to grab something, he takes both of your hands and holds them against the desk, giving a flurry of hard, fast thrusts. moans and whines tumble from your lips as you feel your body completely captured by an orgasm that makes you weak in the knees.

steve pulls out and comes on your back with a groan himself, incoherently slurring words of "whore" "slut" and "dumb bunny." he buries his face in the crook of your neck, attitude completely doing a 360.

"you did so well for me, sweetheart."

[sevenop]

Billie Eilish x Fem!reader: Fever

A/n: You fall into a strange fever dream, burning from the temperature. You wake up next to her, burning again, but now a sense of shame.

Inspired by the song "hostage."

You open your eyes half-asleep time after time, and the first thing you see is the invigorating coolness of her eyes, where you want to dive in headfirst.

"I would love to drown in you," you babble in a fever delirium, and Billie smiles knowingly gently, laying you back down. You feel her firm hand on your back before plopping back down on the sheets. The bed seems to be getting endless.

"Don't strain yourself until I get you some tea," her hand touches your forehead and a silver snake of sadness runs in her eyes for a second. - "You're hot as hell again."

"Of course, I'm right next to you!" - God! You'll be so embarrassed when the mercury column slowly creeps downward, releasing you from the captivity of the fever, mark my word.

"Little fool," - a smile and a pleasant chuckle adorning the next precious verbal clarification. - "My little fool."

Billie goes off to get another mug of green tea, the amount of which makes you feel nauseous, as if you were standing on the deck of a seagoing ship with your hands resting miserably on the rail. A new wave of heat sweeps over you and makes you want to peel off your skin, to say nothing of your ill-fated home T-shirt. Covering your eyes is the worst idea imaginable. The ceiling or any other interior object you throw your tired gaze at, zooms in at an imaginary x4 zoom. This only makes your ship rock more, causing more misery. You hear the button of the electric kettle in the kitchen click and the spoon rattle against the walls of the full cup. God, not the green tea...

Eilish returns with the mug in hand, sets it on the wooden stand resting on the bedside table. You watch as the green surface of the herbal tea reaches almost the most ceramic edges and your appearance becomes deader than dead.

"I understand, my heart," Eilish's hand accurate strokes your face, and you only caress closer because her hand is so cool and just because it's her, Billie.

"I'm going to throw out all the green tea in our house."

Billie nods and assures you of her help as swornly as if you were two partners in crime dumping a corpse in the river.

"We'll have a Boston Tea Party together, you just get better."

She bends down to touch your lips with her own, but you immediately put your hand on her shoulder, resisting. The previously sluggish muscles are now as tense as possible. Eilish meets your categorical "no" again, which is the only stoic thought in your infernal delirium.

"I don't want you to get sick." - Eilish doesn't make any extra effort, but you're in no hurry to remove your hand from her shoulder either, just in case.

"Please." - An ingratiating, pitiful whisper crawls into your skull, mingling with the sickening heat. Reality slowly slips away from you again, and Billie leans a little closer to you, participating as your muscles loosen again. - "I've missed your lips so damn much these past three days, Y/n. I miss being in bed without you at night so much."

"No." - you catch her sad look overriding all prudence and something breaks inside. You hastily try to make things a little better. - "Not until the temperature breaks."

Eilish sighs, but tacitly agrees to your condition. It's not clear what prompted her to do this more - the string of interviews next week or just a deep moistening to your wishes. It seems to be all of the above together. The sadness from her eyes travels over her entire face, freezing her like a mask: the corners of her plump lips are lowered, and the inner corners of her straight eyebrows are raised upward and slightly drawn together. Your resolve cracks, and you soften your sentence a little.

"If..." - The line is suddenly torn by a fit of your dry cough as you reach for the pills on the nightstand. - "If you take some antivirals, I think you can lie next to me for a while."

Billie's face shines brighter than the many gold figurines on her living room shelf, which will soon run out of room. She immediately scrambles out of her seat on your bed and disappears into the gradual silence of the house, retreating to the bathroom. You wash down the bitter pills with green tea, drowning in the world's sorrow with each sip, and fall back tiredly. You cover your eyes and return from a state of half-awakeness, only when you feel something fall sharply to your left on the bed: Billie is back and the smile on her face simply cannot be erased by anything in the world, which greatly alleviates the bitterness of any colorful pills.

"Do you want me to put some vinyl record on in the background?"

You nod, a little suspended in your thoughts, while she's already going through a lot of records. The albums slap against each other amusingly as Billie flips them back, as if digging through a filing cabinet. Slap, slap.

"Any number from one to forty?" - her neat fingers freeze in anticipation of your answer.

"Seven." - You squint, and yellow and red flashes flash before your eyes, giving you some sort of foreboding feeling. Eilish hums and you look at her with interest, lifting yourself up and folding your legs into a lotus position on the bed. She raises her arm as proudly as if it were a flagpole, and her flag cloth is indeed yellow and red. The "Don't smile at me" vinyl. The hunch really worked.

"You love me so much that you only pick my songs?" - she purrs contentedly like a cat, deftly pulling out an iridescent, two-color CD. Yellow and red echo the gamut of the cover and the smell of lemon and strawberries suddenly hits your nose. Sometimes you feel like the more you live with Billie, the more you feel this artificial synesthesia clinging to you.

The glass lid swings back, reflecting the rays of the setting sun from the window, and the record lies flat in its proper place. Billie gently lowers the turntable claw, and with a click of the button the needle runs leisurely along the embossed tracks of the record, filling the room with the sounds of her own voice, but younger and not as strong as it is now. Eilish is slightly embarrassed, and it's so beautiful to you.

"I love you always." - you spread your arms out to the side, inviting her in. - "Come here."

Billie smiles, settles on the bed with you and practically agrees to your terms, but adjusts them slightly. While you are sick, she is your caring big spoon, no objections. You feel the warmth of her body against your back as she chops the rhythm of a playful "my boy" with her fingers, hear her soft soprano entwining your heart with a satin ribbon as she intimately sings "party favor" in your ear and endlessly kissing your entire face, except for your lips, of course, which you have vetoed. You're basically her little spoon most of the time, though she so pleasantly loses and relents when you masterfully take the reins of leadership into your own hands.

"Rest, my girl," she whispers affectionately, biting you on the lobe (revenge for the kissing ban), "I'll be right there."

And with the first chords of "ocean eyes", filled with her two-voice, you fall into slumber.

×××

"I wanna steal your soul," - the hems of Eilish's white robes sweep upward slightly as she dives predatorily toward you, kneeling down for eye contact. - "And hide you in my treasure chest."

The two of you are in some incomprehensible space, where dark emptiness and the cool ripples of water on the floor coexist peacefully. You are the water-chained prisoner kneeling on your knees, she is your personal devil. The loneliness shared by two and the coolness of the water. Nothing more.

Eilish's lips bend in a tempting smile, so devilishly seductive that you feel attraction mixed with fear of incomprehension as goosebumps run through your body. Strangely, you freeze under her gaze, filled with Edenic blueness, and she just stares at you silently, and you don't try to free your hands behind your back again. The water chains no longer rattle.

She bends down a little closer to you and touches your neck with her lips gently, almost weightlessly - she leaves her mark on you. It feels like your body is being hit by a high-voltage current, although you are physically fine.

"What do you want from me?" - you mutter softly, not taking your dumbfounded gaze away from her. It is still unclear where you are, whether this is reality or something else, but the coolness unobtrusively enveloping you is pleasantly soothing. As if you needed it.

"Let me crawl inside your veins, I'll build a wall, give you a ball and chain," - she rises to her feet, towering over you. Her words have a musical tune to them that draws you in even more. And indeed: one click and you feel the weight of the water collar around your neck. Another click, and then she lifts you up, yanking you by the chain of the collar that appeared out of nowhere. It doesn't hurt at all. - "It's not like me to be so mean."

You reach up to her face to make sure it's just a dream. Your fingertips twitch with excitement, but Eilish walks calmly toward your thought and actions, her cheek resting against your palm. Devils dance in her blue eyes. It is completely tangible. You yank your hand away, like accidentally fell under a stream of boiling water, reflexively examine your palm and only further nurture the seed of confusion in the depths of your soul. O'Connell is still smiling the same way.

"What is it...?"

"Gold on your fingertips," - she approaches you with a soft step, like a misty haze over water, - "fingertips against my cheek."

"Say, I'm asleep now, aren't I?"

Billie shrugs her shoulders in a childishly funny way, and it seems to you that she really sincerely does not know what to say. Her hand gently touches your shoulder while the other finally weakness the tangle of water chains, opening up to you a great variability in the distance. In the end, you decide to relax, despite the curiosities of the environment: You trust Billie even in your sleep. She does not utter a single word, just looks at you with some mysterious note in her eyes, and the answer to her dumb question already comes into your head, which you are in a hurry to denounce in words.

"I don't know what feels true," - your lips almost touch hers, so close together, - "But this feels right so stay a sec."

"Gold leaf across your lips," - the chain rattles, the free end touching the water surface, which is why circles began to form on the surface under you, driven by the white foam of the splash. Both her hands gently touch your face, without pressure, but you feel that you personally want to obey her completely. Through her beautiful raven-colored hair, falling over her face, you catch a glint of precious yellowish luster: gold is spilling on her cheek, which you recently touched, resembling a thin twig. Her eyes hungrily catch the glare, as if turning greenish. So mesmerizing. - "Kiss me until I can't speak..."

You feel the heat on your lips and wake up.

×××

The record has stopped playing, the room is completely silent, and Eilish is kissing your lips more unabashedly than ever before. After such a strange dream, you juxtapose reality so difficult that you pull away in consternation at only the third kiss. Billie laughs loudly, bringing you back into her arms. You frankly remind her of a chicken just out of its shell. Slightly disheveled and completely lost.

"You were mumbling in your sleep and I couldn't find a better way to wake you up." - her voice sounds so playful that you don't even need to turn around to see her confident-skanky face. - "Foreshadowing your concern - your forehead is absolutely not hot. The fever's gone down."

"Such a crazy dream..." - you snuggle into her shoulder, and she's only glad, pulling you closer to her.

"I don't know what feels true?" - you see her eyebrow raise ironically. The gears in your head wind up, returning to their usual healthy mode and you bounce on the bed again, nearly falling off it from the weight of understanding the situation.

You experienced her song "hostage" in your fever dream and even spoke lines from it out loud! Oh my god...

Billie realizes just in time to keep your still sluggish but recovering body from an incredibly "pleasant" encounter with the floor: her hand deftly grips your waist and pulls you back. She smiles just as she did in your dream and you're instantly pierced by the ubiquitous lightning bolt of deja vu.

"Will you tell me more about it? Maybe we can even do it again?"

In her humble (no) opinion, your face in color now resembles the most beautiful pink rose while your state of mind is completely withdrawn under the aegis of feeling embarrassed. And before you can open your mouth, choosing words to describe the dream, she kisses you. With a groan of long-awaited pleasure and absolutely no modesty.

[hsfan94]

Opposite

AN: In honour of Short N Sweet coming out, here's one I wrote a year ago from the google docs. It was originally going to have a sad ending but I changed it up to fit how I'm feeling now. I hope you like it!

Y/n felt so stupid. The worst part was that she couldn’t even be mad. She was the one who got it so wrong. She could throw up from how stupid and sad she felt at the present moment. However, she was squished between Gemma and Harry in the first row of a balcony seating section at the National Theatre so she couldn’t escape.

Y/n met Harry in early 2019. She had just started out as a writer and producer. She got a call to come in for a studio session but wasn’t told anything else about the project. When she got there and walked in to see Harry Styles sitting casually on the couch in a white t-shirt and corduroys her heart stopped. It started up again, racing, when he stood up and came to greet her. Instead of shaking her hand like she would have expected, he enveloped her in the coziest hug ever.

“I’m so glad you were available to come today.” He told her, pulling back just enough to make eye contact. “I’m such a huge fan.”

She was shocked that he had heard anything she’d worked on let alone that he liked it. 

“Thank you,” she said. “What’s this project we’re working on today all about?”

The biggest smile grew on his face as he started to tell her all about the record and the last few songs that needed finishing. 

They hit it off so well that they never missed a chance to work together and hung out as often as possible.

That led her to here. Now. Y/n was in love with him. She hadn’t planned to fall, but with Harry it was as easy as breathing. Looking at him just melted her from the inside out, hearing his voice could calm any worry she had. Her favorite color became the exact shade of his eyes. Her favorite songs were the ones he wrote that she could imagine were about her. Realistically she knew none of them were but she’d written about him so it was nice to imagine the other way around. He was everything to her. He was also the only one who didn’t know. 

So, here she was. She had been staying in London for a project with Jack Antonoff at Abbey Road and she had gotten a call last night from her Harry. 

“What are you up to tomorrow night?” He had said, voice soft and unsure. It almost sounded like he was nervous. 

“Nothing, it’s my day off, why?” She said, picking at a piece of her comforter that had a loose thread.

“Would you want to come see this play, “The Effect”, with me?” He sounded hopeful. She could hear it in his inflections. Like he really wanted her there. 

“Harry, you already know I’d do anything you ask me to.” She smiled against her phone at the sound of his laugh coming through the line. 

“Okay then, I’ll text you the details. See you tomorrow, Y/n.”

She should’ve known from the text that her interpretation was wrong. 

It seemed like it was a date when he asked. But as she walked along the river, she couldn’t help but think that if it was a date, he would’ve picked her up and they would have gone together. 

The thought was shattered even more when she saw Gemma and Michael standing outside the theatre where he had asked her to meet him. 

Gemma, who was dressed in a lovely evening gown, noticed her rather quickly. She unhooked her arm from where it was locked with Michael’s and closed the short distance between them. 

“Y/n, I didn’t know you were coming,” she said, engulfing Y/n in a tight hug. 

“I could say the same.” Y/n pulled away first and glanced between her two friends. 

“Harry didn’t tell you we were coming too?” Gemma quirked her eyebrow in that very specific way that only she and her brother can. 

Y/n only shook her head. She noticed both their gazes turn to something akin to pity so she quickly shot her focus to the stones under her feet. They were quite interesting really. Not quite cobble stone but not pavement either. 

“Oh. Well. Maybe he just forgot he invited us then.”

Y/n could hear in Gemma’s voice that she already knew what Y/n had thought. But before more could be said both her and Gemma’s phones chimed with a text saying the plan had changed and he would meet them inside. 

Y/n’s heart fell that much more when the three of them made their way through the doors. Harry was leaning against a wall, talking animatedly to a beautiful woman. She was around five foot five and all around the complete opposite of Y/n. He had that specific twinkle in his eye that only shows up when he’s interested in someone. Just as Y/n was mentally comparing the exact differences in her and the other woman’s body type, Harry looked over and made eye contact with her. She quickly forced a smile and waved at him. He leaned over and whispered something in the other woman’s ear and then strode over to meet the three of them.

“I’m so glad you could come,” he said, pulling Y/n into a hug. 

“Well I didn’t have much else going on.” She tried to keep an airiness in her voice to mask her true feelings.

“Gem, Micheal, it means a lot.” He shook Micheal’s hand and hugged Gemma.

“Yeah, I looked it up online and I’m quite excited. Thank you so much for the invite.” Gemma gave a very subtle nervous glance between Harry, Y/n and the woman he didn’t introduce them to but clearly came with.

“Well,” he reached into his coat pocket, “here are the tickets. You guys go ahead and find the seats, I’ll be up in a bit.” 

As soon as Gemma took them from him, he turned around and made his way back to his previous spot against the wall.

The three of them made it to the seats and sat in an uncomfortable silence. The tension Harry had created in just that short little encounter was weighing down on them. Harry made his way to them just before curtain and right as the play started he placed his hand on Y/n’s knee, squeezed and whispered, “I’m really glad you came.”

The whole play Y/n couldn’t focus on the actual show. She was swimming in circles in her mind trying to figure out why she had got it wrong, trying her best not to cry, and debating how to escape without drawing suspicion. There was no worse feeling than the one she got when, between all of those other attention grabbers, she would look over and see Harry staring down at Taylor (she learned her name from the program) with the most loving gaze. When the play finally ended, Y/n waited through the clapping and cheering, joining in to not arouse suspicion, but then made a great escape.

“Harry,” she said gently just as they got back to the lobby.

“Yes, love?”

“Thank you for the invite, I really have to head home though, I’m not feeling too well.” To be fair, it wasn’t a lie.

“Oh, I’m sorry.” He pulled her into a hug. “I hope you feel better, text me if you need anything.”

She just nodded and walked briskly out the door. She didn’t even make it ten feet before tears started streaming, silently, down her face.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Harry was concerned. He had tried to get ahold of Y/n the next day to see if she was feeling any better but his calls kept going to voicemail. He wanted to introduce her to Taylor but never got the chance. Now that it had been over 24 hours (and counting) and she still had not replied to his calls and texts, he was beginning to panic. What if something terrible had happened to her on her walk home. He picked up his phone to call her for the hundredth time and it went to voicemail again.

“Y/n, it’s me again. I need to know if you’re okay. I was also hoping to discuss some things with you while you’re in town and I know you were supposed to be leaving next week… but maybe the plans changed since you have fallen ill. I’m rambling, sorry. Please, please, please just at least text me. Anything just to let me know you’re alive.”

He hung up and decided to call his sister to see if she had heard from her or noticed if something was off.

“Hey, H, what’s up?”

“Have you heard from Y/n.” He rushed the words out almost on top of her’s.

“I’m well, thanks for asking, you?” Gemma’s tone was drenched in sarcasm.

“I’m serious, Gem, I’m really worried. She’s not responding to my messages. Did she seem okay last night?” He ran a hand through his hair as he paced around the room.

Gemma let out a loud, exasperated sigh. “Harry, are you dense?”

“Excuse me?” 

“Of course she wasn’t okay last night,” she said, pausing to see if she would be interrupted again and continued when he stayed silent. “You invited her to a play that you failed to mention you invited me and Micheal to as well and then she goes inside to find out you have a girlfriend.”

Color him confused. “Okay… I’m not following.”

“Right. Dense.” She took another deep breath. “I feel as though I’m betraying her trust by disclosing to you but I also cannot for the life of me believe you could be so blind. She thought it was a date.”

“Why would she think that?” His heart sped up a little.

“Hmmm… Let’s think shall we? One, you have been joined at the hip for nearly five years. Two, she was under the impression that you were both single. Three, she’s madly in love with you. Four, you’ve been-”

“What was that?” He cut her off.

“Which part? None of this should be new information.” It came out biting and flooded with irritation.

“She’s… in love with me?”

“Yes, you idiot. Do you even have a brain?”

“Oi! No need to be rude or come for my intellect. I had no idea.”

Gemma sighed again, very defeated. “Do you even hear how she talks about you? Do you see the way she looks at you? Have you heard her songs? It’s so clear to everyone who has been around you two.” He was stunned into silence. “So back to your original question, no. She’s very hurt and embarrassed. I called her last night to check in and she had been crying and insisting she was so stupid and foolish for thinking you could ever want to ask her on a date.” His heart cracked. “It was heartbreaking and I kept trying to tell her you were the stupid one but she rushed to your defense as always, your greatest defender. So I imagine she just needs some space. I know you wanted to talk to her about album four but I think the last thing she needs is to potentially hear poems about another woman who’s place she could never hope to take.”

He hadn’t realized he started crying. It was a combination of things he supposed. The influx of all this new, overwhelming information, his best friend being so upset she had holed herself up somewhere to avoid him like the plague, and his sister having such a beautiful way with words and immense concern for his friend.

“I really had no idea. I’m such an ass.”

As if she noticed the choked sound of his crying, Gemma’s voice softened. “Not an ass, just a little oblivious. But you have strung her along a bit. I mean she would argue that it's all one-sided, but I’ve been around you two a lot, including the Christmas you brought her home because “she would have spent it alone otherwise” which is very boyfriend-y.”

“How do I fix it? How can I make it right?”

“Well, I can’t say for sure you can. If you love her the way she loves you, which I suspect you might even if you have a girlfriend, then the answer is simple. If not, then I guess give her time. Hell, I’d give her time either way. But if it’s the second one, you might have to accept that she may never get over you and therefore continuing on like you were would be an asshole thing to do.”

“Thank you, for the advice. Ummm. I guess I have some things to think about.”

“You will do the right thing, baby brother, I know you will. You are a great person and an even better friend. Also, don’t tell her I told you all this.”

He let out a half hearted chuckle. “Of course. I love you.”

“Love you too!”

And with that she hung up. And Harry had never felt so heavy hearted.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Y/n had been religiously ignoring his texts and calls. She felt so stupid and embarrassed. Of course it wasn’t going to be a date and she could not believe she’d thought that so easily. Her anger and sadness were only directed at herself but she still couldn’t bear to hear his voice just yet. 

She lived and breathed music. So music was the answer. She wanted to send him a signal. She never wanted to outright tell him as it could go so wrong. But he sounded so worried, she wanted him to have a slice of understanding behind her distance. 

She pulled up her camera, sat down at her piano and started singing.

“Oh so you do have a type and it's not me…”

She poured her heart and soul into the session with Sabrina over a year ago. They had something in common at the time. They were both lovelorn over someone who preferred other people.

“She looks nothing like me, so why do you look so happy?”

She recorded the whole song on her camera app and posted it to instagram with the caption, “reminiscing on writing this beauty with @sabrinacarpenter”.

She put her phone away for at least an hour, not wanting to see immediate reactions.

When she did get the courage to look she saw that Gemma had commented crying emojis and that Harry had in fact liked both the post and her comment. She was unsure if her message was really received but she tried not to think about it as she fell asleep.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

There were knives lodged in his heart and shoved down his throat when he popped on to see her post after Gemma sent him a text about it. He loved that song. He had been the first person she showed it to when they wrote it. Yet, he never guessed it was about him and (what he assumes based on the time of writing) Olivia. But now it had more meaning to her as he did it again. Chose to be happy with someone else who in fact looks nothing like her. 

The truth was Harry had no idea if he loved her the way she loved him. From what he was uncovering about her love for him, he didn’t even know if he could love anyone that way. 

He had never shown romantic interest in her, sure, but he couldn’t understand why she was convinced he could never be interested in her that way. She was smart, talented, funny and kind. He thought she was the kind of person anyone would be lucky to end up with. He remembered one thing but that couldn’t have been enough to implant that in her head, could it?

“Is one of these ladies your date?” Jack motioned between Gemma and Y/n. 

“That’s my sister.” Harry pointed at Gemma. He was going to explain who Y/n was but Jack started off on a tangent about families and the award show. Everyone was laughing and then all of the sudden Jack had left the table and Harry noticed Y/n seemed a little off the rest of the night. 

Maybe she had thought that was a date as well and he brushed her off, be it unintentionally, and not even introduced her to Jack. But it didn’t really explain what about him overall could give her such an impression. 

If he was honest, he had never given himself time to truly think about how he feels for her. They met when he was still broken up about Camille and he really needed a friend. In a way getting to know her helped him pick up the pieces. Not too long after that though, they were separated for a long period of time because of the pandemic and then he all but ran into Olivia’s open arms. He had seen Y/n a lot in the eight months he had been single this past year and he always really enjoyed their time together but he never gave himself a moment to stop and explore how he felt about her. 

Now he found himself conflicted. He truly thought he was falling in love with Taylor but thinking about Y/n in this way (with deep thought and the ability to isolate himself and his feelings) he was starting to question his understanding of romantic love. He knew he didn’t love Taylor the way Y/n loved him. But he didn’t think he loved Y/n that way either and wouldn’t it be cruel for her to end up with someone who couldn’t give her that? Who couldn’t give her what she deserved? Gemma had told him to give Y/n time but now he felt as though he needed time too. 

Dejected, he stood up from the couch, where he had been staring out the window for the last hour, and picked up his phone. 

“Hey,” he said, when she answered. “Can we talk?”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Thank you for coming,” Harry said, standing up from his usual table to greet her.

“Of course,” Taylor made a move to kiss him but he turned so she only caught his cheek. If it bothered her she didn’t let it show on her face.

They sat down and let silence fall over them.

“I don’t really know how to say what I want to say.” Harry played with the rings on his fingers. He was having a hard time looking at her as he knew he was about to hurt her. 

She reached across the table and grabbed his hand. Running her thumb over his knuckles she said “Take your time, yeah? I’ve got all day.”

She was so sweet and patient and he felt terrible. But he’d been stupid and rushed into something without thinking and this is where it got him.

“I think we should, maybe, take a break.” His eyes were still fixed to his hands and hers that laid on top.

“Is that… I mean… Is that really what you want? You seem unsure.” Her tone was patient and calm as if his answer didn’t matter as much to her as she thought it would to him.

“I mean yes? I know that I’m not coming off very sure. Let me start over. I’ve really enjoyed our time together and I truly think I’m falling for you but…”

“There’s someone else?” 

“What?” His eyes finally met hers.

“That’s what it is isn’t it?” She slowly removed her hands from his. “Harry, I think you’re great and the last few months have been a lot of fun, but I’m not stupid. That girl that came to the play, it’s her right?” She took a sip of her water, ever so patiently, as if she truly wouldn’t care either way because all he could find on her face was absolute understanding and it somehow made him feel worse.

“I didn’t know. You have to understand that. It seems I’m the last to know.” He paused to get a deep breath. “She’s one of my best friends and I invited her to introduce you, but she ran out saying she didn’t feel good. I hadn’t heard from her and I was worried sick because she walked home that night and my sister told me she was upset because she thought I invited her on a date. I’ve been running around my mind in circles trying to figure everything out but I’m just so lost and confused.”

She nodded once and then spoke again. “Let me help. Close your eyes.” He fluttered his lids shut and she continued. “It’s your wedding day, the music just started and the bride is coming towards you, who is it?”

He felt a smile overtake his face at the mental image of his best friend floating down an isle filled with petals, she was wearing a beautiful white dress and… His eyes shot open. “Woah.” The only word he could say.

“It was her, yeah?” For the first time Taylor had a hint of sadness outlining her features.

He nodded his head. “That was crazy, I’ve never thought about my wedding before like that.” After his initial shock faded he looked up at her apologetically. “You’re really great Taylor. You deserve someone amazing. I’m sorry that it can’t be me.”

She stood up from the table, leaned down to kiss his cheek again and spoke one last time. “Thank you Harry, you’re a great guy. I wish you all the best.” 

And just like that she left the pub and he was left alone again only this time he was more sure of what he wanted.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Y/n’s phone had been ringing non-stop and it was really getting in the way of the session.

“Y/n are you sure you don’t need to get that?” Jack asked her.

When it first started ringing fifteen minutes ago she told him she’d let it go to voicemail not realizing that whoever it was, wouldn’t give up.

“Yeah, I’ll go check it I guess.”

She had filled Jack in on all the details of her weekend so he knew she was avoiding someone but he seemed worried that her phone was going off so much. So she decided to put her friend at ease and she took it outside. It had of course been Harry. He had just finished his calling for the tenth time when a text popped up.

I know you’re upset with me, but I’d really like to talk some things through this evening if you can. Does your favourite place at 8 work?

Half smiling, because he really could have sent a text to begin with, she responded.

Sure. Now stop calling, Jack and I need to finish this track so I can make it to dinner.

He sent back a “Sorry” with the little blushing emoji and she hearted the message.

She went back inside and told Jack there shouldn’t be any more interruptions.

“Was it Harry?” He asked, the nosy git.

“Yeah, he wants to get dinner to make it up to me I guess, but the strange thing is he shouldn’t even know I’m upset with him.”

She continued on through the session with dinner out of her mind and when it rolled around to 7:00 she left the studio and headed to the restaurant.

When she got there, he had already gotten a table, secluded in the back corner. It had two lit candles and a bouquet of roses and she was really confused. Harry stood up to greet her and she noticed how fancy he had dressed and she suddenly felt her ripped jeans and cardigan put her out of place. 

“Why didn’t you tell me you were dressing up? I look so out of place,” She said as he came to hug her.

A frown formed on his face and he replied, “You look beautiful.”

Her insides exploded the way they always did when he complimented her.

They sat down and an awkward silence fell over them. He was just staring at her with the strangest look on his face and she couldn’t take it anymore.

“Harry, why are we here?” 

Before he could reply a waiter came to the table with a bottle of her favorite wine and poured them both a glass. She stared at the bottle with wide eyes, because how had he remembered she preferred this one to any other and why had he ordered them a bottle, it was going to cost a fortune.

“Harry What-”

“I’m so sorry, Y/n.” He gently placed a hand over hers.

“For what?” She was going to lose her mind soon.

“I’ve been horrible and blind and I’ve hurt you. I can’t begin to apologize in a way worthy of your forgiveness.”

“Harry, what are you talking about?” She hadn’t been aware that he knew she was upset. 

“I’ve been a selfish fool and I’m so sorry, but if you let me, I’ll make it up to you.” 

It was as if he couldn’t hear her questioning. Like he had planned out some speech and was so anxious to get through it he couldn’t allow himself to get sidetracked but she needed to understand what he was apologizing for.

“Harry,” she said sharply, dragging his attention to her face, “what are you talking about? I’m so confused right now.”

He took a deep breath and started over. “Please don’t be angry with her, she was only trying to help.” She must have made a face that screamed confusion so he continued. “My sister told me how you feel. She told me you thought the play was supposed to be a date and she called me a bunch of names for being clueless. I’m truly sorry. I genuinely had no idea that was how you felt.”

Her stomach had dropped through the floor. If she thought she had been embarrassed before, this was something much worse. “Oh um… yeah… don’t worry about it. She really shouldn’t have said anything.” She started to stand up. “You don’t have to do all this, it’s fine I’ll just…” She had started to take a step towards the door when she felt his hand wrap around her wrist and tug her back.

“Please don’t do that. Don’t leave. I want to talk about this. I want to make it up to you.” When she turned to look at him, there was a look of terror on his face at the thought of her leaving.

“I don’t know how you can. You didn’t really do anything, it’s me. It’s something I need to get over.” She reluctantly sat back down.

“I don’t want it to be something you get over,” he said fast, panic in his voice. The candles being placed just so, she could see every little detail of his face as he leaned in closer.

“What? That doesn’t make sense.” Her head shook back and forth. She had more to say, she was going to go on and on about how sad that situation would be, her in love with him, him in love with other people. But he didn’t give her a chance to continue.

“Just… Let me explain okay?” He searched her eyes for permission and when she nodded he continued. “I’ve been stupid okay? When we met I really needed a friend. A shoulder to lean on and I met you and that’s what you were. Then the pandemic happened and I got lonely and Olivia was there. I don’t know, it was just easy. Then when she and I broke up, you and I got to hangout more, like we used to and instead of letting myself ponder how I truly felt about you I started dating someone else. I met with Taylor earlier and we called it off.” He paused to drink some wine with big, long gulps, something she knew he did when he was nervous or stressed so she reached out and squeezed his hand in reassurance and a huge smile lit up his face. “She did this small thing to help me realize it was always going to be you.” Her heart thudded in her chest. “She told me to close my eyes and picture it was my wedding day, something I’ve never done, and she asked who I saw walking towards me and it was the most beautiful picture I’ve ever seen. You were in a custom Harris Reed wedding dress, walking towards me and it was the happiest I’d ever felt. But honestly I think it had to happen this way, me being with her first because otherwise I may have never realized it. So in a way I’m not sorry for that, I’m just sorry I hurt you and I hope that you will still give me a chance. Since the other night wasn’t able to be our first date like you hoped, maybe this can be?” 

He took a deep breath once he was done talking and stared at her nervously. Her mind was going a mile a minute. He met with Taylor to call it off? He pictured her at the end of the aisle? He wanted this to be a date? She didn’t know what to start with. Instead of voicing every thought on her mind she started laughing hysterically. 

“Yeah right! You want to be on a date with me? Me at the end of the aisle? Harry be so serious right now. This is the worst practical joke I’ve ever been on the receiving end of. If me having feelings for you made you that uncomfortable you could have just said, no need to humiliate me this way.” She couldn’t stop laughing despite the fact that what she was saying was anything but funny. She was sure he’d join in any second to confirm her suspicions but when she was able to open her eyes for long enough he looked so mad that she could swear steam was about to erupt from his head. 

“I am being serious! Do you know what the worst part of the last few days was?” When she shook her head he continued. “It was that Gemma told me you thought, no knew, that I’d never see you that way. That I’d never want to ask you on a date and I’ve been feeling so shitty trying to figure out what I’ve done that could make you think such a thing. That the thought alone had made you so sad you didn’t want to see me or talk to me.” 

He looked like he wasn’t done but she had to interrupt him. To explain herself. She gently grabbed his hands again and spoke softly and more seriously this time. 

“Harry. You didn’t necessarily do anything, I’ve just… I mean… look at you,” she gestured at him then back to herself, “and look at me. There’s just no universe in which I’d get the guy y’a know? And that’s okay, really. I love being a part of your life no matter what. Besides I’ve seen your exes, even ones I haven’t met personally, and they’re all, well you know, smaller and prettier and the kind of girls that do get the guy. I really need to just try harder to find someone in my league even if it means it’s not you.” 

He started to cry and she hated it. She didn’t mean to hurt his feelings. 

“Y/n how could you say those things about yourself? You are the most incredible person I’ve ever met, inside and out. If anything you are out of my league and I’d be lucky to end up with you. And I hate myself for never showing you properly how beautiful and special you are.” 

She stood up and came around to his side of the booth and sat beside him. 

“Hey, hey, hey,” she picked his hands up and held them in hers again, “Don’t cry. I didn’t mean to make you cry. I’ve just gone a very long time feeling like no one could ever love me, so it’s hard to believe you could want me that way. And to be fair, it’s not like I ever told you how special and beautiful I think you are. I never really gave you the chance to return the sentiment.”

He leaned his forehead against hers and brought one of his hands to her face, pulling her closer. “But you have. I just wasn’t listening properly. All your songs, it’s so obvious, I’ve just been in my own world and I’m so sorry.” His thumb swiped away moisture from her cheek she wasn’t aware had formed. “I don’t know if I can love you the way you love me, but I’d like to give it my best shot.” He kissed her cheek and pulled her into a proper hug. 

“Ok. If you’re sure.” He pulled back from her shoulder nodding and she continued. “But I don’t think this should be our first date.” His face fell. “Only because I ruined the mood.” She did her best to smile. “You had such a beautiful evening planned and a perfect apology and I threw it in your face, you deserve better.”

He shook his head, “we deserve better.” The waiter came by again to see if they were ready to order, pulling them out of their own little bubble and Harry told him they needed another moment. Once he had gone again he returned to his thoughts. “I think you’re right. Tonight didn’t go exactly as I planned but we should also have it be more special. I should put more effort in and court you properly like you deserve. I just couldn’t wait to see you and tell you how I feel that I forgot about going about this in the right way. You’ve wanted this for so long, you deserve to know it’s a date before you’re on it.”

“I think that sounds great.” She smiled at him and leaned in to kiss his cheek this time. “Now shall we have dinner? I’m actually really hungry.” 

As if on cue her stomach let out a loud unpleasant noise. His eyes widened and shot down to it then lifted back up to hers. 

“Apparently,” he said and she burst out laughing, making him smile too. 

She got up to return to her side of the booth. Once she was sitting back down she noticed he looked disappointed at the space so she slipped her ankle around his under the table while she picked up her menu. As if she was going to order something other than her usual. She always ordered the same thing even though every time they leave she says she’ll try something new next time. 

When the waiter came back they placed their orders and he took their menus. She finally allowed her gaze to return to Harry and he looked positively giddy. 

“What?” she said. 

“I just love you.”

Her heart did somersaults in her chest. He hadn’t actually said those words yet. She picked up his hand again and brought it to her mouth. She placed the most delicate kisses to each knuckle and then lowered it, intertwining their fingers before resting them on the table. 

“I love you too.”

They just smiled at one another for a moment and then his face lit up in something akin to realization. 

“You’re supposed to be leaving this week.” It came out deflated. 

“Yeah. Jack and I only have the studio for three more days. But I don’t have anything else for a couple weeks so I could always stay longer.”

His smile came back. 

“Good,” he said. “I want to take you on our first date.” He paused, looking deep in thought like he was battling his next thought. “I guess since we talked all this out I can go ahead and ask. Do you want to work on my next album with me?”

Her cheeks were going to break from all this smiling after four days of mostly crying, but he was just too cute. 

“Harry, did you think because I was sad I wouldn’t want to work on a project with you?” He nodded and she spoke again. “You should know I’m always going to say yes to you.” She twisted the ring on his middle finger, one she had given him last Christmas. 

“No it’s just that…” he seemed unsure of how to say what he wanted so she gave his hand another gentle squeeze. “Gemma told me it would be inconsiderate to have you work on songs about someone else but to be honest now they’re more likely to be about you.”

“I’m going to have to have a serious talk with my sister-in-law then.” She’s always referred to Gemma as her sister but she didn’t realize she’d never done so in front of him because the look that took over his face was a sight for sore eyes. “Maybe I’m a masochist but I would have still said yes. I don’t want you to ever feel like you can’t ask me to be your collaborator. That’s what brought us together. It’s what we do best. I mean not to sound narcissistic but no one will ever strike gold the way we did with Fine Line.”

He laughed brightly at her comment. 

“Well,” He started, a smirk taking over his face, “hopefully it won’t be the thing we’re best at for long.” He dropped his left eye in a wink and she cackled. 

“You’re insane. Talking about wanting to court me properly then not an hour later you’re trying to get me into bed.” She nudged his shin with her foot playfully. 

Another wave of silence fell over them but it was peaceful and easy because things were always easy with them. Their food came and they ate with little conversation but kept up their playful glances and touches. When they were done eating, Harry stood up and took out his wallet. 

“H, he hasn’t even brought the check.” 

“I know but I can’t wait to get you alone.” He fished what she thought to be way too much money out of his wallet, probably close to £1000 for a meal that was maybe £200, and dropped it on the table. He extended his hand to her and she took it. 

“Do you want to come to mine?” He asked once they were out the door. 

“Mr. Styles! Are you suggesting that we should engage in premarital sex? How scandalous of you.” 

She giggled once she got the words out and he laughed loudly. They stopped for a moment on the sidewalk and he turned to face her. 

“Well, not necessarily but I certainly wouldn’t be opposed.” 

He had her favorite of his smiles plastered on his face and she couldn’t take it any longer. She reached up, planted both her hands on his face and pulled his lips to hers. He let out a squawk of surprise at first and then his hands came to her waist, following her lead effortlessly. He broke them apart after only a moment and she let out a whine of disappointment. 

“Baby, we should really wait until we get home,” he said softly.

Butterflies erupted throughout her whole body. She grabbed his hand again, interlacing their fingers, and smiled up at him. 

“Yeah. Let’s go home.”

[star-wrote]

ANYFING WITH FLUFFY MUEPHY MACMANUS PLES PLES PLES PLES LMAOOO

Mo Stór

ao3 link

Characters: Murphy MacManus x Fem!Reader

A/N: loving the energy in this request, anon. if you had a tail, it would be wagging LMAO. i’m sorry this took AGES, but i hope you enjoy anyway! <3

Warnings: cussing, bad irish accent writing, fluff, domestic bliss, seriously it’s so fluffy

Word Count: 817

Dating Murphy MacManus isn’t the easiest thing in the world. In fact, if you were to ask his brother, he’d say something along the lines of “Dunno how ya put up with us being vigilantes and shit, lass.”

You and Murphy have had countless talks about him and his brother’s “hobby,” half of them ending in you begging to join him. He would never let you, it’s too dangerous.

So you work your job to support yourself and the boys. You don’t mind it really, they treat you like their queen. Usually, they’re home when you get off work. Walking in to a warm dinner, even if it was a frozen pizza, was a feeling you wish for every good person on earth.

Other nights, like tonight, the brothers wouldn’t be home. You couldn’t help the feeling of anxiety that went to that pit in your stomach. You rush to the note on the refrigerator, ripping it from the magnet that also held up a picture of you and Murphy kissing. Both the picture and the magnet fell off the fridge as you read the note.

“Went to grab Chinese takeaway for dinner. Be back soon x.”

You sighed in relief as you read Murphy’s chicken scratch handwriting. You remembered the magnet and picture that fell, and quickly retrieved them off of the floor. You smiled as you pinned the picture back to the fridge and silently thanked Connor for capturing that moment on camera.

It had been a long night at McGinty’s, and Doc had kept the rounds coming. You had somehow convinced Murphy to dance with you; it must have been the David Bowie song playing. At the end of the song, he dipped you down like you were in some kind of romance movie, and gave you one of many kisses that you two have shared in that bar. Once he heard the click of the camera, he gently dropped you to the floor and shoved his brother, trying to grab the camera. You laughed on the bar floor as he successfully got the camera and pocketed it. He must not have been too upset about the picture since he printed it out the next day.

You heard the door open while you were reminiscing, interrupted by the familiar sound of the twins bickering; this time about chopsticks.

Connor calls your name as he shuts the door. “Are ya gonna use chopsticks?”

You smile as Murphy rolls his eyes and sets the food down on the table. He makes his way over to you and kisses your cheek.

“Yeah, of course,” you answer Connor, “are you?”

He pulls two wrapped pairs of chopsticks out of his pocket and hands you one. “Of course! Murph here wouldn’t let me grab three because he doesn’t know how to use them.”

You look at Murphy who rolls his eyes again as he grabs your hips to slide past you and take a fork from the drawers. He grumbles out “I’m fuckin’ Irish, don’t need to know how, eejit.”

You giggle as you hug him from behind. “I’m pretty sure the Irish didn’t invent the fork either, Murphy.”

He tried to frown, but one side of his mouth lifted. “Are we gonna eat this shite or not?”

After dinner and the nightly movie, you and Murphy retired to your shared bedroom. You were glad that the movie finished because it was Connor’s night to pick, and he picked the worst possible movie on earth, as usual.

You had both changed into your sleep clothes, and brushed your teeth together, smiling at each other in the mirror.

This was your favorite part of the day. You and Murphy got to cuddle in bed and just look at each other. His hand was on your cheek and his thumb was smoothing out your skin.

“Mo stór.” Murphy interrupts the silence.

You smile at him. “What’s that?”

“My darling.”

You kiss his forehead. “Yeah, I am.”

He smiles and kisses your lips gently.

You rest your forehead on his. “For a second I thought you were asking me to marry you or something.”

Without hesitation, he answers, “I would.”

You bring your head up from the pillow and lift your eyebrows in surprise at him.

He notices the shock on your face and scrambles to say something else. “I mean I don’t have a ring for you or anything. But I would get one. I just know that God sent you to me. I may be a saint, but you’re an angel, lass.”

He grabs your hand and kisses the top of it.

“It seems like it would be a pretty divine marriage if you ask me.”

You feel a tear fall from your eye. “Oh my god.”

He smirks as he wipes the tear from your face and chides, “Lord’s name, love.”

You giggle and then nod.

“Let’s do it.”

[thelightsandtheroses]

After Rain | Frankie Morales

Summary:  You’ve been afraid for days that Frankie isn’t coming back to you this time, that you might never know what’s happened to him, but now he’s here at your doorway. Warnings: TF spoilers, angst, language, discussions of drug addiction and use, depression, PTSD, dad!Frankie, 18+ blog, minors DNI. Pairing: Frankie Morales x female reader (established) Word Count - 1.3k Notes - This was meant to be a longer fic but I ended up making it more of a drabble! The fic title is from the Dermot Kennedy song of the same name.

“I don’t know man. I’ve got the new baby now, and my lady isn’t into me doing this kind of shit anymore.” Triple Frontier

“Let this darkness be a bell tower/ and you the bell” Rainer Maria Rilke - Let This Darkness Be A Belltower

He comes back broken.

Will drops him off, nods apologetically at you before he goes to his own home to probably make his own apologies.

There’s a faint smile on Frankie’s face as he stands in the doorway wearing a crumpled shirt, his battered rucksack dropped on the floor. You suppose it’s relief that he’s home. There’s something else too; apprehension, uncertainty about the welcome that will meet him because he’s been so much longer than he said, he’s not called you once either.

In the distance you can hear Sofia playing with her toys upstairs, oblivious to what is happening at her front door and you’re hoping your son won’t hear the door, won’t suddenly wake up because he’s only just got to sleep.

Frankie’s had time to shave in his absence and for some reason that is the thing irritates you the most. You’ve been worried he’s dead and he’s been having a shave! He couldn’t text or call, or send a fucking carrier pigeon but he could shave?

You thought they were dead.

You thought Frankie was dead.

You’re about to say something, purge yourself of this rage, when you meet his eyes. There are storms in them; anguish and pain and emotions you can’t even identify. 

What happened out there?

“Hey querida,” he says softly after a moment, the low timbre of his voice instantly flooding you with relief. This is the man you have loved for years. He holds pieces of your heart and soul with his own.

You shift yourself to let him pass, place your hand on his body as he moves past you. He’s home.

That’s got to be something, right?

Rain taps on the living room window as you wait for Frankie to come back downstairs. The last few days have seen more thunderstorms and rain than you would normally have expected. When it started, you thought to yourself that it was a reflection on your own mood and worries. You were trying to work out what to do, what could you do if the worst had happened?

Despite the rain, it’s humid. The type of rain that leaves the air thick and your skin sticky.

You take a sip of your drink, wait for the creak on the stairs.

He’s tentative when he walks into the living room, wearing sweats and a faded t-shirt, his shower dampened curls just a shade longer than he usually wears them.

“Mateo needed a change,” he says, “he’s almost asleep again now.”

“Have you seen Sofia yet?”

“Yeah,” he sniffs, “she’s still playing in her room. Promised I’d join her in a bit.”

“She’s been waiting for you to come home. I think there’s been some internal drama with the dolls, something only you will understand apparently.”

“It’ll be Strawberry,” he says, shaking his head. “She’s trouble.”

There’s a moment of silence and he sits close to you on the couch. You can smell the sandalwood shower gel lingering on his skin, the crisp toothpaste on his breath.

“Missed you,” he mumbles, leaning closer. “Missed you all.”

“We missed you too. What - what happened?” So much for easing him gently, you think, but you need to know.

Frankie looks at the floor as you gently take one of his hands in yours.

“Tell me. That’s what this is based on, right? You tell me things, we’re honest with each other, whether it’s easy or not.”

“It was fucked. It was so fucked.” His voice cracks and he runs his free hand through his hair.

“I thought it was just a reccy, that’s what you said.” You resist the urge to say ‘I told you so’ to say that was why you’d begged him not to go. 

Frankie relapsed recently. He had then been suspended from work which was how you had learned about the relapse. You hadn’t been sure how the two of you would get through that at the time. You had a mortgage, a small child and were weeks away from your new baby being born at the time. Somehow the two of you had endured it though. Things were strained, you can’t lie, but you were both determined you could get through this.

The reccy had posed more of a direct threat to every bit of progress made though. You were incensed that he thought this was something worth pursuing; that the money was worth whatever it cost him.

Frankie was terrified and desperate about the position you were both in and he still wanted to provide, to be there for your little family. You didn’t want him to do it. You remembered the way he would come back from missions. His recovery was new and tentative, he didn’t need more trauma weighing on this.

He didn’t need more wounds on his soul.

However, it was only supposed to be a reccy, just a few days. He was convinced it would help him, help you all. He said it would buy you both some time while he tried to get his licence back, would help him get through this bad patch - it would give him some purpose. You’d wanted to ask if your family wasn’t quite enough purpose there.

“It went wrong, went bad. ‘S why I didn’t call - I couldn’t.” Frankie exhales and then adds, “Redfly died.”

“Redfly -Tom? Tom’s dead?” Everything in you runs cold and the anger that’s been constricting around your heart fades.

You could have lost Frankie. It could have been him.

The images won’t leave you and you put your hands on Frankie’s hands just to remind yourself he’s here, he’s real. He hasn’t left you.

“Tell me,” you gently press, leaning closer to him.

He doesn’t tell you everything about the mission; he can’t, you expect. He tells you enough to make it clear that things went wrong, that the helicopter crashed and they were stranded, that Tom died at some point in the whole sorry affair. He holds your hand the whole time as though you’re the only anchor to this moment, the only thing separating him from a jungle he’s still stuck in.

Part of you wants to get straight into the car and go yell at Santiago, Will and Benny for their parts in this. For the greed and stupidity and foolishness of this whole mission. Part of you wants to scream at Frankie for this.

You listen to the rain instead, try and calm yourself and put those conversations away for another day.

After his story, the two of you sit together. You know nothing will be the same again; how can it be? Tom’s dead and you know your boyfriend enough to know that the haunted look on his face won’t fade away any time soon.

You’re still hurt, still angry. Frankie’s home though and he’s alive. That’s something, that’s enough for now.

You move closer to him, let him wrap his arms around you. You can feel his heartbeat through his chest, the warmth of his body and scent of sandalwood shower gel, minty shampoo.

You meet his lips; grateful that the man you love is here, that he is alive.

The last few weeks won’t be forgotten easily, you can’t remember ever seeing Frankie this shaken. You’ve never felt quite this close to losing him before.

He’s home, he’s home now.

Hours later, you stand out in the back porch with a cup of coffee in your hands. The rain is finally abating and the air smells thick of storms and stories.  You can see thin rivulets of water streaming from the porch roof down to the decking, can hear the trilling sound of the crickets and can see the cracks of sunlight between the crowds.

There’s a long way to go. There will be damage and scars from this trip that Frankie hasn’t shared yet, that he may not even have noticed and there’s no winnings here, no results or money or sense of anything good from this mission.

He is home though. He is home and he is alive and he hasn’t left you.

You look through the kitchen window and see him talking with Sofia, laughing about something as he serves her breakfast. He looks over and meets your gaze with a tentative nod and smile.

 You’ll weather this storm together.

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[apomaro-mellow]

Part 3

"You guys really don’t have to do this.”

“Yes we do”, Robin and Eddie said in unison.

Every once in a while Steve wondered if he had a type and this was not helping things. But he knew he’d never be able to stop them, so he just threw his hands up and went into the kitchen to finish helping Ms. Henderson.

“I can’t believe you made that book club homemade brownies”, he said as he wrapped a plate in plastic. “I mean, after what Sheila said...”

“Oh I can’t afford to burn any bridges there”, Claudia said. “Or else I’ll have to go back to the women’s bible study group.”

They both shuddered at the thought.

“Besides”, she continued, “It won’t be all bad for long. I’m planning a coup.”

Steve’s eyes widened. He didn’t know when he became the type that thirsted after book club drama but that’s the kind of guy he was now. Before he could ask her to spill the details, Dustin called from the living room that they were starting. He returned to the living room while Claudia took her brownies and was out the door.

“Your mom is going to war, did you know that?”

“I know, I gave her the idea”, Dustin said while shuffling some index cards in his hands.

“I think you’ve got more important things to worry about now”, Robin said.

“Seconded”, Eddie said.

Eddie and Robin sat on the couch next to each other. Dustin had a whiteboard with both of their names, ready to be tallied up with scores. And a handful of question cards, custom made for the occasion.

“This is ridiculous”, Steve said, standing behind the couch and leaning forward, hoping to talk some sense into everyone.

“I think you’re forgetting about the strange correlation between relationships and this game”, Dustin said. “Ever since that first round at the cabin, you and Eddie got together, Mike and El broke up, and now Nancy, Jonathan, and Argyle are in this weird, trio thing.”

“And while correlation doesn’t always equate to causation, this game seems a pretty decent measure for how well you know a person”, Robin said.

“And the stakes are too high to give this up”, Eddie said. He and Robin had been fighting over shotgun rights in the car as well as the prime real estate that was Steve’s lap.

Seeing an opportunity, Steve leaned in close to Eddie. “If I promise you a ‘good time’, will you give up the game?”

“You’re playing favorites again”, Robin complained.

Steve covered Eddie’s ears. “He’s just easier to bribe. You’re too pricey, Rob.”

“Hey, I heard that. You callin’ me cheap?”, Eddie accused.

“Can we get started with the game, please?”, Dustin brought them all back to the task at hand.

“Get ready to lose”, Robin started.

“Not on your life, Bucks.”

“Alright. First question: How does Steve spend his days off.”

“A jog, a big breakfast, then he spends the rest of the time lookin after you guys”, Eddie answered.

Robin looked at Steve incredulously. “You jog? On your days off? Steve, I think we might need a jock intervention.”

“It’s not just a jock thing. It’s a I can’t believe how many times I’ve had to run for my life thing.”

Dustin put down a tally for Eddie. “Next question: his go-to dancing song.”

“Take On Me!”, Robin nearly shouted.

Eddie raised a brow at Steve.

“It’s good head bopping music!”, he said defensively.

“Said the human bobblehead”, Robin teased.

“His worst date?”

They answered at the same time. “Lina Williams.”

Steve groaned. “I regret telling either of you now.”

“Who is Lina Williams?”, Dustin asked.

“Bad kisser.” “Chatterbox.” “Compulsive liar.” “Kind of a klepto.” “Won’t take a hint.” “But also never stops dropping them.” “Also a name dropper.” “Bad at head-”

“Okayokayokay”, Dustin stopped the duo’s back and forth. “That was more than I needed to know.”

The next few questions they both answered correctly as well. “Where is his grandma from?” “Describe his hair care routine.” “Favorite thing to cook?”

Steve looked at the scoreboard. They were still tied. He sat down between them and laid his arms against the back of the couch. “You know, I don’t see two competitors. I see two people who care about me very much and just want my attention.”

That made Robin pause. “When did I become the kind of girl who fought for Steve Harrington’s attention?”

Eddie stared into the distance. “Yeah...when did that happen?”

“Yeah, he kinda creeps into your heart, don’t he?” Dustin grinned. “Like a little stray.”

Robin nodded. “Like a little, wet stray.”

“Like a little, wet, sad stray.”

“Okay, feelin’ less loved here”, Steve said.

“Well let me give my stray a collar then”, Eddie smirked. “‘Cause I’m never lettin’ him go.” He leaned in the kiss Steve on the lips but then quickly went to his neck.

“Eddie!”, Steve protested in shock. “Eddie~”, he breathed out next, this one less of a protest.

Dustin covered his face and began voicing his own protests, as did Robin.

“We gotta have a rule for this, right?”, Robin said before removing herself from the couch.

“Yep”, Dustin said, still not uncovering his eyes. “We’re gonna bring it up the next time we have everyone. These two are not allowed within five feet of each other.”

“Dustin, make up your mind”, Eddie said when he came up for air. “Do you want me and Steve to get along? Or be apart?”

“This is like the wish you get from a genie. Or a monkey’s paw”, Dustin lamented.

“So are you two fine with calling it a draw?”, Steve asked.

Eddie and Robin shared a look.

“I call indefinite shotgun rights”, she said.

“Then that means his lap is reserved for me”, Eddie replied.

“Okay. Now that that’s settled”, Steve adjusted his position and Eddie immediately sat in his lap while Robin got comfortable at his side. “Dustin. Tell me about this book club coup.”

Dustin didn’t hesitate. “My mom’s gotten fed up with Sheila’s crap, right? And she’s not the only one. So she and like two other moms are going to...”

Steve didn’t know exactly when they’d all changed. Because there was definitely a time in his life where if you told him he’d be sitting in Dustin Henderson’s home, listening to the drama of middle aged moms, while cuddling up with a band geek and the school freak, he would’ve thought you were insane.

But somehow, someway, here he was. And there was no place he’d rather be.

END

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[pedroscurls]

Hold My Hand

Character(s): Frankie “Catfish” Morales , Reader (female, second person POV) Summary: For years, you have been in love with Frankie. Everyone else saw it, except him, and you never had the courage to tell him how you truly felt. Instead, you stuck by his side even when it hurt. And after Colombia, he hadn’t been the same. You knew he had demons (being a veteran and all), but this... This was different. Would Frankie finally open his eyes and realize that the woman he was meant to be with had been right in front of him all along? Word Count: 6,653 Author's Note: This is my first time writing this character, so if I’m a bit off, please let me know and give me some feedback! Anyway, I have been obsessed with Frankie and it might very well be my favorite character that Pedro has ever played. I hope you all enjoy this story. Enjoy and happy reading! (also this story may or may not be very loosely inspired by my own relationship with my partner). Warning: Mentions of death, killing, violence.

(song: Hold My Hand by Lady Gaga)

Present day

Francisco “Catfish” Morales. The man who had your heart. The man who you would do anything for. The man who had absolutely no clue how you felt. You had met Frankie and the rest of his group of friends five years ago and since then, you had always been by his side. 

You had seen him at his worst, at his best, even when he had proposed to, gotten married to, and had a child with his now ex-wife. Through it all, you pushed aside your love for him because you didn’t want to ruin such a great friendship you had with the man. After all, Frankie was your best friend. 

But now? Now, there was just something different about him. After his so-called “boys trip” with Will, Santiago, Benny, and Tom, he had been different. When you tried to pry out some information from the other men, no one gave you any details. They all stuck to the same story. You had thought asking Benny would be the way to go, but even he was tight-lipped, which made you wonder what this boys trip really was. 

The men had always come by where you worked (a hole-in-the-wall bar nearby a military base, which meant most of your patrons were either active duty or retired veterans). They always came by Wednesday night, every week, the same table, the same drinks, the same food. Their routine hadn’t changed, until the boys trip. Their weekly get-togethers became less frequent and you hadn’t seen Tom in so long. Even when you hung out with Frankie, all he wanted to talk about was how your life was going and his son, Mateo. While you didn’t mind, you missed him, missed the way he would smile and a dimple on the right side of his cheek would appear, missed the way his laughter would fill your heart, causing you to laugh too. 

“Hey, you there?” Frankie asked from over the phone, pulling you from your thoughts.

“What? Yeah, sorry. Got a lot on my mind.”

“Hm,” was all he said. “Are you working today?” 

“Like always. Are you and the guys coming?”

“Oh, is it Wednesday?” 

You could tell his mind was elsewhere. He was distracted. Frankie had noticed that his sense of time was all over the place, probably because he barely got any sleep these days. 

“Last I checked, yeah.” You bit your lower lip. “Still having trouble sleeping?” 

Frankie huffed. “I’ll be fine.”

“You keep saying that.”

“I’m managing.”

“Are you though?”

You could hear Frankie curse under his breath, which probably wasn’t a good idea on his end since he was holding the phone so close to his mouth. “Listen, I gotta go.”

“Wait,” you sighed. “I’m sorry if I pushed. I just–”

“Don’t worry about it.” 

“Frankie–”

“Gotta go.”

Before you could even object, he had already hung up the phone. You sighed and tucked your phone back into your pocket, standing from the table to head back to work. You hoped that you would see him today, see the rest of the guys actually. 

—

Five years ago

You had been working at the bar for a little over six months, moving to a new state for a new start. It was tough in the beginning, but you had come to enjoy the adventure that it brought. You had broken up with your long-term boyfriend after realizing that he hadn’t wanted to settle down, have kids– ultimately, you both just wanted different things. It hurt in the beginning, but the distance helped. Being in a new city where no one knew you alleviated most of the emotions you had felt when the breakup first happened. 

And the bar you had been working at was always a fun time. The men and women that came in were either active duty or retired veterans. While there had been a few mishaps that happened with some of the patrons, most of the time, it was calm, quiet, and even respectful. 

One Wednesday night, however, changed your entire life. Five men entered the quiet bar, deciding to occupy a table at the corner of the bar. You were taken aback. They were all so good looking in their own respective ways, but one man… One man in particular caught your attention immediately. 

“So, y’all coming to watch me fight this Friday or what?” Benny grinned, running a hand through his dark and dirty blonde locks. He was cute, had this boyish attractiveness to him and he definitely looked younger than the rest of the group. 

The other blonde-haired man looked over at Benny. Must be his brother, you thought. There were obvious resemblances, but you couldn’t help but notice how this one was a bit older, quieter, more reserved. “Yeah, we’ll be there, Ben.”

There was another man who spoke up and you noticed him standing from his chair. You immediately went back to focusing on cleaning the counter of the bar, trying to act like you weren’t just staring and eavesdropping. He was handsome, alluring, his salt and pepper beard neatly trimmed. He was definitely clean cut, walking towards the bar with a sense of confidence that you found sexy. 

“Um, excuse me?” He called out. “Can we get five beers?”

“Oh, sure. Of course. Keep the tab open or close out?”

The man glanced over his shoulder, looking at his friends with a smile. “Yeah, let’s keep it open.” He handed you his card and you took it without hesitation, turning your back to him to swipe his card. 

“You new here?” You heard him ask. 

After ringing up the drinks, you turned back to him and handed him his card. Then, you grabbed five glasses to fill with beer. 

“Yeah, but bartending has been something I’ve always done. Even back home,” you replied with a smile. 

“Oh, so this isn’t home?” 

You shook your head. He was friendly, easy to talk to, and it helped that he was also nice to look at. “California’s home.” 

“So, why Florida? Weather’s kind of the same, lots of beaches…”

“Relationship ended.” You said, handing him the glasses. “But I’m happier here.” 

“Well, I’m Santiago. You can call me Santi, or Pope,” he smiled. “If you ever need a tour guide, I’d be happy to be of service.”

You blushed, glancing over his shoulder to the table with his friends. They were watching you, but you couldn’t help but find yourself staring a bit longer at the man with a cap. 

“Pope?” You said with a smile. 

“It’s my callsign,” he replied. “Was in the service.”

You nodded in understanding. “Makes sense. Bar near a military base.” You smiled, telling him your name. “By the way, your friends are staring a bit too hard over in this direction.”

Santiago looked over his shoulder and chuckled, shrugging his shoulders. “Probably jealous I got to talk to you first.” 

“Ah, I see. This was all part of your plan, come over here, sweet talk the bartender?” 

He laughed quietly, glancing over at you. “Damn, you caught me.”

Looking over his shoulder again, your eyes met the man who was wearing a hat. You could tell that his dark curls were sticking out from underneath and he had this mysterious way about him. He seemed as reserved as the older, blonde-haired man, but you felt a pull towards him. Just something about him. 

“You wanna meet ‘em?” Santiago asked. “My friends, I mean.”

“Oh, you know…” You cleared your throat. “It’s fine. I don’t want to impose and–”

“Nonsense,” he smiled. “Guys!” He called over his shoulder, waving them over. Almost immediately, the remaining four stood from their seats and walked over to the counter of the bar. As the man with the hat came closer, you felt your heart beat faster, your cheeks slowly become hot, and all of a sudden, you were now looking at five good looking men. 

“This is Will,” Santiago said. Older, dark blonde-haired man.

“Benny, his younger brother.” You were right. They were brothers. 

“Tom.” Santiago pointed to the man with dark hair, his beard also tinged with gray. He was the only one wearing a wedding ring, but he had this permanent scowl that you found to be a bit intimidating.

“And this,” Pope said, wrapping an arm around the man with the hat. “This is Frankie.”

Frankie. 

He removed his hat, running a hand through his curls and he looked at you with such soft eyes, big, and brown that had you captivated instantly. He gave you a small smile and you noticed the dimple on his right cheek, right underneath the patchiness of his beard. 

“Nice to meet you guys,” you said, trying not to act too obvious that you were obviously more interested in one man. 

“She’s new to Florida. I figure we can show her around.” Santiago said, handing each man a glass. “You know, show her not the touristy areas.” 

“Santi,” Frankie mumbled.

“What?” he replied. 

Benny grinned. “That sounds like fun. I’m in. I’ve got a fight this Friday, you should come.”

You glanced over at Benny, watching him take a swig of his beer. He was leaning against the counter of the bar, flashing you a smile that felt welcoming and inviting. 

“A fight?” You asked.

“MMA,” Will responded. 

Your eyes widened, a small grin slowly appearing on your lips. “MMA? I’m in.”

Santiago arched his brow. “Are you a fan?”

“Huge fan,” you nodded. “Brings back a lot of memories with my grandpa.”

“Sounds like a good man with taste,” Benny chuckled. “Here.” He grabbed a napkin and a pen from over the bar and wrote down the details: the time and location. You looked down at the napkin and smiled, pocketing it into the front of your pants.

“I’ll be there.”

Benny smiled. Tom, on the other hand, was the one who interrupted the conversation by saying, “guys, we should probably head back, let the girl do her job.”

You cleared your throat, nodding in agreement. “It was great meeting you guys. If you need a refill, just let me know.” You turned your attention once the door to the bar opened, noticing two men entering and taking a seat at one end of the bar. You excused yourself, walking over to them to take their orders. 

“She’s nice,” Santiago said, following the guys to the table. “You think she’s really gonna show up on Friday?”

Frankie shrugged. “I’m willing to bet she was just being nice. You know, customer service and all of that.”

Benny rolled his eyes. “Seemed like genuine interest to me.”

“Will, back me up here,” Frankie added.

Will shrugged. “I don’t know, Fish,” he chuckled. “Hard to argue when her interest in the sport seemed very sincere.”

“Tom?”

Tom didn’t respond, just sipping from his beer.

“What’s the big deal, Fish?” Santiago asked. “She’s nice, she’s new to the area. Seems to me like she needs some friends.”

Frankie didn’t respond. He glanced over in your direction, taking note of how your smile lit up the entire room. There was something he hadn’t felt before, right in the pit of his stomach as he watched you move from behind the bar, making the drinks for the other patrons that had come in. 

“You got a crush, Fish?” Benny teased, letting out a quiet chuckle. 

“What?” Frankie whipped his head towards the younger man, rolling his eyes and crossing his arms over his chest. “Just distracted, is all.”

“She is single,” Santiago grinned. “And she didn’t show me much interest.”

“You tried hitting on her?” Frankie asked, feeling a sudden sense of protectiveness wash over him. He hadn’t even said anything to you, just a simple wave when Santiago introduced you, but there was a pull he found himself fighting. He didn’t even know you, yet he wanted to… It had been a long time since he had shown any interest in anyone. 

“I wasn’t hitting on her, Fish, jesus.” Santiago sighed. “I was just being nice, that’s all.”

“You’re wound up tight,” Tom chimed in. “And you didn’t even say anything to her. Next round, you should go up there and order for us.”

Frankie shook his head. “I’m good.”

The rest of the men chugged their beers, looking over at Frankie with smirks written on their lips. “We’d like another, Fish,” Benny grinned.

“Hey, I still have mine to drink,” he replied. 

“Easy fix,” Benny smiled, reaching for Frankie’s drink and downing the contents. “Now, go on.”

Frankie rolled his eyes. “You guys are assholes.”

The remaining four men erupted in a fit of laughter. When Frankie stood up, he straightened out his shirt and removed his hat to fix his hair before placing the cap back on top of his head. He exchanged a look with Santiago, noticing how the other man maintained a knowing smirk on his lips. 

“Dale,” Santiago whispered. “Go.” 

Frankie took a deep breath and walked over in your direction. He didn’t know why he was nervous, but when you turned to face him, a smile on your face, he felt himself suddenly relax.

“Frankie,” you smiled. “You guys went through those fast.”

Frankie shrugged, biting his lower lip as he nodded. “Yeah, can we get another?”

“Of course. On the same card?”

“Yeah, same card. Drinks are on Santi tonight.” 

“You guys seem like a tight knit group,” you noticed, grabbing five glasses and one by one, filling the contents. You still maintained conversation, looking up at him. “Lots of history there?” 

Frankie nodded, taking a seat at the bar across from you. “We all served together.”

“Ah, so all of you are retired veterans?” 

“That’s right,” he replied. “Santiago mentioned earlier that you’re new here?”

You smiled to yourself. Frankie was listening. “I am, yeah.”

“Where are you from originally?”

“California.”

“What’s wrong with California?” he smiled, feeling himself begin to relax as he continued to talk to you.

“Ex-boyfriend.”

Frankie arched his brow. “Ah. Bad breakup?” 

“Something like that.” You set the glasses on the counter of the bar in front of him, looking up at him. He was staring at you, his eyes piercing through you as everything around you seemed to disappear. All you could notice, could see, was him. 

“I’m sorry,” he whispered. “You okay?” 

Ugh, he’s sweet. Your heart raced even further. You barely knew this man and here he was, showing genuine concern over your wellbeing. “Yeah, it was my decision. We wanted different things, wasted a lot of my years being unhappy, so moving to Florida without much of a plan seemed like a good idea.”

“And is it?” Frankie asked. “A good idea?”

“So far? It’s been challenging, but just what I needed.”

He smiled at that. Frankie liked the fact that you seemed so motivated, determined to make something of your life. You had noticed that life in California was no longer serving you and while plenty of people would have settled for the sake of being afraid of change, here you were, jumping feet first into the unknown. He liked it. 

“This might be too forward, but–”

“I was thinking–”

Both of you let out a quiet laugh, looking into each other’s eyes. 

“You go ahead,” Frankie said. 

You smiled. Since moving to Florida, you had stepped out of your comfort zone, doing things you had never thought you’d ever do. And this moment? You were going to take the first step and ask him for his number. 

“Can I get your number?” You asked quietly.

Frankie’s eyes slightly widened at that. He certainly wasn’t expecting that. In fact, he had thought that maybe you were interested in Santiago, Will, or Benny, but him? He didn’t see the appeal.

“Oh, um…” he began, hesitating.

You felt embarrassed, immediately shaking your head. “You know what, I don’t know what I was thinking. We barely know each other and–”

“I should probably get these beers to the guys,” he interrupted. Frankie didn’t know why he didn’t just give his number, maybe it was the fact that he had a lot of baggage that he didn’t want to share with anyone. This isn’t to say, though, that he wished he had the courage to just give it to you. 

“Right, sorry,” you sighed. “It was nice talking with you, Frankie.”

“Yeah, it was nice,” he smiled. “See you Friday?” 

You bit your lower lip, thinking back to Benny’s invitation for the fight night. You were a woman of your word and while you felt highly embarrassed, you still decided to go. “See you Friday.” 

And every Friday since meeting Frankie, Santiago, Will, Benny, and Tom, you had spent it with them, watching Benny fight. While the first conversation with Frankie had been awkward and embarrassing, every week your friendship blossomed and it had taken him three months to finally give you his number.

—

Three years later

You were spending Friday night with the guys again. For the past three years since meeting them, you had felt like you were now an honorary member of their group. Each of them had their own personality, differing from each other, but Frankie… Frankie was the one you were closest to. 

It was easy when it came to talking to him. He made you laugh, made you smile, and his efforts to always try to cheer you up when you had a bad day was welcoming, inviting, and it had been a long time since you had felt this way. 

But for three years, you were in denial of the feelings you had for him. Everyone in the group, however, noticed it long before you had. The way you and Frankie would hang out (just the two of you), the inside jokes you two shared, the look of longing you had whenever you were with him. It wasn’t until when something unexpectedly happened that it opened your eyes to the reality of your friendship with him. 

You were in love with this man, in love with Frankie. 

It was a Friday night. As usual, you and the rest of the guys were sitting in the front row, waiting for Benny to walk out to the cage. He had been on a winning streak lately and you were all so excited of the possibility that he may become something more than just an underground MMA fighter. 

Before Benny’s music came on, your phone rang. So, you excused yourself from the group and walked towards the back of the room where it was less quiet. Frankie had looked over his shoulder to watch you, both of you locking eyes. He let a smile line his lips and you nodded in his direction, letting him know that you were okay. 

But the moment you heard your mother’s voice on the other end, your smile faltered and tears instantly pricked your eyes. 

“What?”

“Grandpa’s – He’s gone,” you heard your mom say. “It was a heart attack. We need you to come home, baby.”

“But… I just talked to him a couple of days ago. He said he was fine, he sounded fine, he –”

“Come home,” your mom repeated, hearing her sniffle on the other end. 

“Okay, mom. I’ll – I’ll figure it out. I’ll see you soon. I love you.”

Once you got off the phone with your mom, you wiped your tears away and walked back towards the group. This was one fight night that you would have to miss and you knew Benny would understand. 

“Hey, Benny’s about to –”

“I can’t stay,” you replied to Santiago. 

“Is everything okay?” You heard Frankie ask. His brows were furrowed together and his eyes had softened a great deal. 

“N – No,” you whispered, tears slowly falling from your eyes. “My grandpa… He died and I just have to get home. I have to book a flight and pack and–” 

All of the guys knew how close you were to your grandpa. So without hesitation, they all understood, all muttered their condolences. But it was Frankie that had taken that extra step. He reached for you and pulled you into a tight hug, his strong arms wrapping around your frame. Resting your head against his chest, you let yourself cry, despite the loud crowd erupting in cheers when Benny walked out. 

“Let me take you,” Frankie said. “I can fly you to California.” 

“Fish,” Santiago said. “I think that’s a good idea.”

“You guys should leave tonight. Benny will understand. We’ll let him know after his fight,” Will said, his hand rubbing your back comfortingly. 

“Go,” Santiago said. 

“Frankie, I can’t –”

“It’s not up for debate. I’m taking you.” He pulled back, looking down at you once more with those soft eyes. It was in that moment you felt your heart skip a beat; the way he was looking at you and the way he was willing to drop everything to make sure you got home… You loved this man. 

You grabbed your things while Frankie said goodbye to the rest of the guys. Santiago pulled him in for a hug and you saw him whisper something in Frankie’s ear, which caused the other man to nod once he pulled away. After he said his goodbyes, you hugged each and every one of them. They all held you tighter and longer than normal and you felt like you could have broken down all over again. 

Santiago pulled back to look at you, cupping your cheeks and wiping your tears away with a swift motion of his thumbs. Everyone felt like your big brother. Everyone except Frankie. 

“Call us when you get there, okay?” 

You nodded. “I’m sorry I can’t stay and–”

“Stop,” he said with a small smile. “Frankie will take care of you.”

“I know,” you replied. “I just–”

“You be there for family,” Santiago interrupted. “And we’ll be here, waiting for you to come back.”

“I love you guys,” you whispered, your voice shaky and tears threatening to spill over again. 

Santiago smiled and kissed your forehead before letting you go. You turned around and noticed Frankie with his arms crossed over his chest, waiting patiently, but that look of concern was permanent on his features. Once you both left the building, he brought you over to his car and before he could unlock it, Frankie grabbed your hand and pulled you to him. 

“It’s gonna be okay,” he whispered. 

You nodded, your arms wrapping around him tightly. Being in his arms like this felt normal, felt like you belonged there. The feeling he gave you was nothing like you ever experienced before.

It was a couple of hours into the flight when Frankie spoke. He had been focused on piloting the small plane that he hadn’t checked in to see how you were doing. 

“So, I was thinking I can get a hotel once we get to California.”

“What?” You asked, looking over at him. “You don’t need to do that.”

“I wanna be there for you,” he said, glancing over at you. “Besides, how else are you gonna get back to Florida?”

“Hm, maybe just buy a plane ticket and –”

Frankie shook his head. “And spend all that money when you got a pilot as a friend?”

You sighed. “Are you sure?”

“Positive.” He reached out to rest a hand over yours. “We look out for each other, you know? Make sure that the other person is okay.” 

“Thank you,” you said, biting your lower lip. This wasn’t the first time he had rested a hand over yours, but this was the first time that you felt the love you had for him. 

“Do you wanna meet my family?” You asked hesitantly. 

Frankie squeezed your hand before letting it go to rest it back onto the steering of the plane. “Is that gonna be okay?”

“I have talked about you and the guys, so you won’t be a complete stranger.”

Frankie smiled. “Hm, you’ve been talking about us, huh? What have you been saying?”

Despite the circumstances, Frankie managed to make you smile. “It’s a secret.” 

Frankie didn’t push any further. He just gave you a single nod before turning his focus ahead of him. You didn’t know if you were ready to get back home, especially now that your grandpa wasn’t going to be there to welcome you. It hurt to know that the man who had always been there for you was now gone. He was a big part of your life and it just didn’t seem real that he wasn’t going to be here anymore. 

Later that night after you got to California, Frankie had gotten a rental car to drive you to your childhood home. You had been quiet the entire drive, aside from the quiet sniffles he heard. Once again, he reached over for your hand and gave it a gentle squeeze.

“Hey,” he said quietly. “You’ve been quiet. Tell me what’s going on in that head of yours.”

You shrugged, keeping your eyes and attention out the window as you watched the houses pass as he continued to drive. “I’m just gonna miss him, that’s all…”

Frankie sighed. He never was good at talking about emotions or feelings, that was more up Will’s alley, but seeing you like this when you were usually always so positive, hurt and he wasn’t sure why he was feeling this way. Maybe because you were just a really good friend, but even after plenty of talks with the guys and especially Santiago, he had started to wonder if there was something more to this friendship. 

And as he continued to drive, all he could hear was Santiago’s voice before you and Frankie left. 

“You take care of her,” Santiago whispered, keeping his hold on Frankie as they remained in a hug. “She’s gonna need you.”

“Pope–”

“I’m serious, Fish. Be there for her.”

“I will,” Frankie nodded.

“That woman loves you so much,” he chuckled, pulling away. “I don’t even think she realizes it.”

“She loves all of us, man.”

“Yeah, but not in the way that she loves you.”

Frankie glanced over at you once he pulled up to your childhood home. He put the car in park and couldn’t help but notice that you hadn’t even looked in his direction the entire drive. He wasn’t sure if what Santiago said was true, but he knew that he couldn’t cross that boundary with you, and he certainly wasn’t going to take a chance on something that was possibly far from the truth. 

“Hey,” he said quietly. “I’ll be right here with you, okay?” 

When you finally turned to look at him, Frankie noticed your eyes were red and your lips were the opposite of what he was used to. You weren’t smiling. You weren’t happy. You were grieving and Frankie didn’t know how to handle that. 

“You don’t have to stay if you don’t want to.”

“I’m staying.” 

“There’s gonna be a lot of people crying.”

Frankie shrugged. “It’ll be fine.” He didn’t want to admit to you that death had been something he had gotten used to. Being in the military, he had seen his fair share of dead bodies, had lost plenty of friends along the way, and he had become numb to it. “Come on…” 

You nodded and climbed out of the car. Once Frankie was standing in front of you, you immediately wrapped your arms around him, crying into his chest as he held you. He didn’t like seeing you like this, didn’t enjoy the feeling in the pit of his stomach that gave him a clear understanding that his feelings for you were not just something a friend would feel towards another. This was different. 

And throughout the weekend, Frankie had become part of your family almost instantly. Despite the constant crying from your other family members and especially from you, he had been your anchor, keeping you grounded. He had met your parents, met your grandma, and it almost felt like he belonged here, with you. 

“Grandpa would have loved him,” you heard your mom say, watching as Frankie and your grandma were talking with each other. 

“I think so too,” you replied. When your mom wrapped her arm around you, you leaned in almost immediately. “He’s great, the rest of the guys are.”

Your mom smiled, looking down at you and back towards Frankie and your grandma. Frankie had managed to make her laugh and while you weren’t sure what they were talking about, you found yourself so enamored with the way he was so gentle and so caring towards her. 

“You love him,” your mom said. 

“What?” You asked, shaking your head. “No way. He’s just a really good friend.”

“You’re lying to yourself, honey.”

“Mom,” you sighed. “We’ve known each other for three years, so of course we’re gonna get close and –”

“I’ve never seen you look at a man like that,” she said. “Not even with your previous relationship and I thought you were gonna marry the guy.”

You rolled your eyes. “Mom, Frankie’s just a friend. Besides, even if I did love him, I wouldn’t want to ruin our friendship.”

“But what if he loves you too?”

You arched a brow. “He doesn’t.” But that would certainly change things. “We’re just friends.”

“Sure,” she chuckled, kissing your temple. “If your grandpa was here, he’d tell you the same thing.”

“I miss him, a lot,” you whispered, tears stinging your eyes again. “Hard to believe that he isn’t here anymore.”

“I know,” she sighed. “I know.”

Frankie had glanced over in your direction, flashing you a small smile before he turned his attention back to your grandma. Your mom noticed this and smiled, gently nudging you. “He’s a good one.”

You nodded in agreement, “he is.” 

Once you had said goodbye to everyone, you and Frankie were making your way back to the airport. It had been a weekend filled with a lot of tears, but also plenty of laughter as you and your family reflected on the moments you had with your grandpa. It also helped to have Frankie with you and seeing how he so easily fit in with your family made you reflect on what your mom had said. 

“But what if he loves you too?”

—

Present day

You were anticipating the guys coming to the bar, like they always had, but every time the door opened and it wasn’t them, you were met with disappointment. You didn’t know when everything changed, but you did have an idea that it might have had to do with their “boys trip” to Colombia. 

Throughout the rest of your shift, neither guys had shown up. So, when you had clocked out and left the bar, you made a note to visit Santiago. If anyone would tell you what’s going on, it would be him. It was late, but you knew that the guys had trouble sleeping, the cause of it due to being in the military. 

After twenty minutes, you parked your car along the curb to see Frankie’s car in the driveway as well. Confused, you walked up to the front door and knocked on it twice. It wasn’t long before Santiago opened the door and a confused, yet surprised, look spread across his features.

“Santi,” you said. 

“You okay?” He asked. “It’s late and –”

“We gotta talk.”

“Now’s not a good time.”

Then, you heard Frankie’s voice. 

“I think now’s the perfect time.” 

Santiago sighed and nodded, opening the door even further to let you in. Once inside, you walked towards the living room to see the rest of the guys – not only Frankie – sitting at the couch. 

“Wow,” you said. “So, this is where you guys go now.”

Frankie cleared his throat. Will and Benny looked at each other before turning their attention to you.

“We were going to stop by, but–”

“I don’t care if you guys don’t come to the bar,” you sighed, interrupting Benny. “But what I do care about is why in the hell you guys are acting so differently.”

Santiago had entered the room, leaning against his bookshelf. He glanced at the rest of the guys and sighed. He had to speak first. 

“Nothing’s going on,” Santiago said. “We just – It’s been a year since Colombia and we all just wanted to talk about it.”

“Ah, your boys trip. Where’s Tom, then? I haven’t seen him.”

The guys shared a look. It was a sad one. A look of regret, of disappointment, of failure. 

“Okay, I get it. You don’t wanna share the details, that’s fine. I’m not going to pry, but I just –” you sighed, your eyes falling on Frankie as you continued. “I just care about you guys and want to make sure you’re all okay.” 

“We’re fine,” Will said. “It’ll be fine.”

“But –”

Benny shouted. He had been four drinks in and was definitely feeling the effects of alcohol. “You don’t know what we’ve been through, what we’ve seen, what we’ve had to do! So please,” he said, shaking his head. “Don’t act like you can fix us.”

You cleared your throat. You weren’t expecting that and you were about to say something before Frankie stood up. 

“Let’s talk outside.”

“No,” you shook your head. “I’m okay. I didn’t mean to come in here and act like I wanted to fix you guys, so I apologize if it seemed that way. I do care about you all and I just – You’ve always been there for me. I figure I should at least return the favor, especially when I can visibly see how much all of you are hurting.”

Will gently shoved Benny, shaking his head. “Don’t listen to him,” he replied. “He’s not – We’re not okay, but we will be.”

You always knew Will to be the honest one out of the group and you gave him a nod in appreciation. You glanced over at Santiago and Frankie, biting your lower lip. 

“I’m just gonna go.”

Santiago called your name with a quiet sigh. “Listen, if we could tell you, we would.”

“I know,” you whispered. You spared another glance at Frankie, watching him sit back down. “Have a good night. I’ll see myself out.”

You didn’t bother to wait for a response. Instead, you turned on your heel and left Santiago’s house, shutting the door quietly behind you. Once you were in your car, you felt tears threatening to fall from your eyes. You let out a shaky breath and pulled away from the curb, making your way back to your apartment. 

“You should go check up on her,” Will said to Frankie after you had left.

“Why me?”

Santiago and Will shared a look, but it was Benny that spoke up.

“Because she loves you, Fish.”

“No,” Frankie said. “If she loved me, why’d she let me get married?”

Santiago shook his head. “Idiota.”

“What?” Frankie asked. 

“That woman has been by your side since the moment we met her five years ago and you’re telling me that the love she has for all of us is the same love she has for you?” Will replied, quietly chuckling to himself. 

“She didn’t want to ruin your friendship,” Benny spoke up, grabbing his beer. “She didn’t want to ruin something because she never knew how you felt.” 

“And let’s be honest,” Santiago added. “You love her too.”

Frankie tightened his jaw. All of the guys were right and it pained him to realize that he had let his fears – and yours – get in the way of what could have possibly been something great. 

“She’s one of my best friends,” Frankie replied. “Of course I love her.”

“Maybe,” Santiago said. “But you love her more than that.” 

“Go get her, Fish.” Will added. 

“She’s not gonna wait forever.” Benny chimed in. 

“She waited five years and watched you marry someone else… There’s gonna come a time, Fish, where she realizes that it might be better to move on,” Santiago finished. “You really gonna let her get away?” 

Frankie glanced over at Santiago. All he could think about was the endless amount of times where you had been there for him and especially the time where he had flown you to California after your grandpa passed away. It was odd to him how easily he fit in with your family and how at home he felt. 

Even with his ex-wife, he hadn’t ever felt like that. 

But with you? With you, it was different. Frankie felt like he could be himself, like he didn’t have to constantly impress you (or your family). With you, Frankie could let his guard down and be absolutely vulnerable with you and he hadn’t realized how much that meant to him until now, five years later. 

“I’m gonna call an Uber,” Frankie finally spoke up. 

“Finally!” Benny laughed, a stark contrast of how he had just reacted when you were here. 

“Go get her,” Santiago smiled. 

“Atta boy,” Will said. 

—

You had changed into your pajamas, dressed in an oversized t-shirt and shorts. Your hair was put in a hair clip and you had finished heating up your leftover pizza when you heard a knock at your door. It was well after midnight and you carefully looked at the peephole to see who it might be, but when you saw Frankie standing on your porch, hat sitting on his wavy locks, hands stuffed into the pockets of his jeans, you felt your heart leap at the sight of him.

Slowly opening the door, he raised his eyes to meet yours. 

“Hey,” he said. “Can I come in?”

“Sure,” you replied, opening the door even further for him to come in. Once he stepped inside, he removed his boots and glanced around your apartment, smelling the aroma of pizza. 

“Frankie –”

“Is that –”

Both of you let out a quiet chuckle. 

“You go first,” Frankie said. 

“What are you doing here?” 

Frankie sighed. “Honestly, I don’t know,” he let out a nervous chuckle. “On the ride here, I had an idea of what I was going to say to you, but now… Now I can’t remember.” 

“If it has anything to do about earlier with the guys, just know that I –”

“No,” he shook his head. “It isn’t about that. We – We have a lot of baggage and we all know you come from a place of love, but sometimes, we just don’t think we’re deserving of it.”

“Frankie…”

“Why did you let me get married?” He asked abruptly. 

“What?” You asked, biting your lower lip. “You were happy. Why wouldn’t I?”

Frankie stepped closer to you. There were plenty of times where he had been so close to you, but this time… This time was different. 

“But were you?”

“What are you implying, Frankie?” 

He reached out for you, his hand reaching up to gently cup your cheek. Frankie watched as you leaned against his touch, your eyes falling shut. 

“You have always been by my side,” he whispered, taking another step closer to you. Mere inches separated your bodies and his thumb gently caressed you. “No matter what, you were always there.”

You opened your eyes, looking up at him. “Because I care about you, about all of you guys.”

Frankie bit his lower lip nervously. “I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I’m sorry it took me so long.”

“Frankie…” you knew what he was referring to, what he was implying and as his thumb brushed along your lower lip, you let it part. 

Frankie didn’t reply, but instead leaned in and pressed his lips to yours. You melted into him, your arms immediately snaking around his neck as his arms wrapped your waist. He gently lifted you off the ground, moving his lips against yours. Pulling away after a few seconds, he set you back down your feet and looked into your eyes.

“I’m never letting you go.” 

---

@pedrostories​

[pinkorchidsinspring]

EVELYN is that you?! For the Straights, and gays who have never had the soul crushing pleasure of reading (and those who have ;) “The Seven Husbands of Evelyn Hugo”, Allow me to elaborate ⬇️

To be clear: Evelyn Hugo Marry’s seven separate men in order to cultivate her Hollywood image, at the expense of her true love interest and sexuality. Aka lavender marriages, aka bearding. She was bi however we barely have one actual male love interest for her..

let’s meander some of the lovely connections our blonde woman-who-is-attending-an-award-show-with-a-woman-on-her-arm-to-✨dispell✨-the-gay-rumors has with the ever amazing Evelyn Hugo 😍

Green is quotes from the book, anything else is Taylor’s lyrics 💗

"It shouldn't be wrong, to love you. How can it be wrong?"

They say I did something bad / Then why's it feel so good?

I love you ain’t that the worst thing you ever heard?

Is Evelyn Hugo going to tell me just enough to keep me on the edge of my seat but never enough to truly reveal anything?

What a Mastermind wouldn’t you say?

I did it because I want to climb the ladder as high as I possibly can. I did it because I want my name, the name my father gave me, in big, bold letters one day. This is my chance.

He wanted a bride, I was making my own name

People think that intimacy is about sex. But intimacy is about truth.

I want to wear his initial / On a chain 'round my neck, chain 'round my neck / Not because he owns me / But 'cause he really knows me / Which is more than they can say

Celia was starting to get goose bumps, so I suggested we go back into the living room, where it was warmer. The desert winds had swooped in and turned this June night into a chilly one. When I started to get cold, too, I asked her if she knew how to make a fire.

He built a fire just to keep me warm

Wine went all over her white shirt.

The burgundy on my T-shirt when you splashed your wine into me

I was in emerald green again.

“Evelyn, who was your great love? You can tell me." "Celia St. James.”

I just had to put this in here- no need whatsoever but 😍

Don was off somewhere else, leaving me before I could leave him. Instead, right on my doorstep, was Celia St. James.

Stand there like a ghost / Shaking come the rain, rain / She'll open up the door / And say, are you insane, -ane?

🤭And that's how it works / That's how you get the girl🤷‍♀️

She literally told you-I anyway

You wonder what it must be like to be a man, to be so confident that the final say is yours.

A little side note: The way in which she naturally uses those two fingers is very audacious to me.. but that’s a topic for another time…

I’d risen from ashes more than once by that point. But I didn't want to have to do it again.

And I know I make the same mistakes every time

I'm getting tired even for a phoenix / Always risin' from the ashes / Mendin' all her gashes / You might just have dealt the final blow

"Everyone's a pawn.”

Checkmate, I couldn't lose

One day I'll watch as you're leaving / 'Cause you got tired of my scheming

The black beaded dress I wore that night. Two slits on either side of the skirt went up to my mid-thigh. I loved that dress. (For the nomination for a film called Cornelia Sunset, might I add…)

And what I wanted was to move to the Upper East Side of Manhattan.

Where were the original Polaroids for 1989 shot? Oh in manhattan…

Where does Taylor live? In New York… maybe not manhattan… but you get the point..

Welcome to New York, Taylor wrote this song specifically about moving there, and the very diverse people there…

In the pursuit of a great cause, I think people can be of service in a number of different ways. I always felt that my way was to make a lot of money and then channel it to the groups that needed it. It's a bit self-serving, that logic. I know that. But because of who I was, because of the sacrifices I made to hide parts of myself, I was able to give more money than most people ever see in their entire lifetime. I am proud of that.

"Evelyn, you are not capable of giving it up. And you never will be. And it will be the tragedy of my life that I cannot love you enough to make you mine. That you cannot be loved enough to be anyone's.”

"Do something, babe, say something" (say something) / "Lose something, babe, risk something" (you're losin' me) / "Choose something, babe, I got nothing (got nothing) / To believe / Unless you're choosin' me"

Which is about the cruelest thing you can do to someone you love, give them just enough good to make them stick through a hell of a lot of bad.

You know there's many different ways that you can kill the one you love / The slowest way is never loving them enough

And let me just say bring a woman who promised to be Taylor’s “invisible bride any day”, to an award show after that homophobic piece of 🔥🗑️ NYT article calling her only straight…

Not to mention her name starts with a K..

Look how happy tree is, because this Evelyn Hugo won’t be hidden forever 💚🤍

[ryuyejiho]

"I never get enough, doll" - Hyunjin

Pairing: Hyunjin x Reader

Genre: Smut

Warnings: 18+, Smut, Fingering, Orgasm control, Sex with stepbrother

Summary: Your stepbrother's daily dance rehearsals are finally starting to become unbearable. However, he instead of caring about your arguments, gives you a demonstration of his hot dance and teaches you the choreography.

Word Count: ~3k

________________________________

Once again I stood in front of the door to Hyunjin's room and pounded on it with all my strength with my fist. Finally when the music quieted down I wanted to leave but then the door opened

"can you get the fuck away from me?" I heard a voice behind me at which I turned around

"it's you at 1 am at night playing music so loud. Don't you have headphones or do you just want to piss me off" I replied equally upset

"You know very well that this is my job and I have to practice choreography and the fact that you moved here is not my fault. Just because you live here with your retarded father doesn't mean you can rule what I can and can't do" he raised his voice at me at which I laughed rudely

"It's not my fault I live here either because, believe it or not, I don't want to be here either. And you can postpone your bouncing and waving your arms to tomorrow and not stomp around at night" I rolled my eyes, turned around and entered my room closing the door with a big bang.

I had been hearing the same songs day after day for a month. Although I liked some of them at first but hearing them non-stop made me sick of them. I already knew all the lyrics to each of them, just as I began to distinguish the voices of the guys singing and rapping there even though I didn't know who they were.

Day or night, it didn't matter to him at all. Nonstop, the sounds of various songs were pouring out of his room. Sometimes even my own headphones didn't help and let the ambient sounds through, drowning out what I was listening to. The worst was going to bed when I must always have silence and quiet around me.

Same now, lying down under the covers just waiting for the music to start playing again and it did. Despite the fact that it was much quieter than before, I angrily got up from the bed again and started banging on the door of his room again. This time when he opened it there was a cocky smile on his face that was as annoying as it was hot.

This time he wasn't wearing a T-shirt, he was standing in front of me in just shorts from which you could perfectly see the outline of his muscles on his thighs.

"Okay, now I've done it on purpose for you to come" he said and pulled me deeper into the room.

"why did you want me to come? Did you want to hear me yell at you again?"

"No. I wanted you to watch. Since for you it's usually bouncing and waving your arms, I wanted to show you what real dancing looks like." he walked over to the phone that was lying on the dresser right next to the speaker and played a song I'd heard a million times before.

He stood in front of me and as the slow rhythm of the song came out of the speaker, he started swaying from side to side. I rolled my eyes and sat down more comfortably on his bed, which was twice the size of mine. Hearing the first words of the song sounding 'fake eyes open' I rolled my eyes again, thinking to myself how fitting it was for me in my current situation when I didn't want to watch the show.

But then when he began to move rapidly and confidently he made me slightly curious. His movements were sensual and powerful at the same time and his gaze was still on me.

His eyes suddenly turned from kind and friendly to slightly squinted and fearful. With every more violent movement, his eyebrows drew together.

After a while when he knelt close to me with his hands close to his face I momentarily became hot. I sat up straight feeling the familiar tingling between my legs and the sensation in my lower abdomen. He just smiled and when he stood up his movements became faster and even more powerful than before.

When he began to move his lips to the rhythm of the song's lyrics it occurred to me that this person who was singing in the song was he himself.

Then suddenly he sat down on the floor in front of me and when his hips lifted up and he ran his hand all over his torso, from crotch to throat I thought I was about to cum right here and now. I couldn't stop looking at him and biting and licking my lips.

I knew that he was awesomely handsome but not that sexy. I knew he knew how to dance but not that kind of dance.

All the time he was looking at me with such awesome sexy and scary eyes that I felt how wet I got. My gaze flew between his hand, hip movements, his face and his eyes.

When the song finally slowed down he again began to sway sensually from side to side, he then looked straight into my eyes with a slight smirk and when the room was silent he stood in the final position holding two fingers to his stoic lips.

His face and neck were wet with sweat, his breathing much quickened, and looking at him in such a state I myself began to breathe faster. I was speechless, but not wanting to know anything from me, or at least to create such an appearance, I decided to speak up

"and that was your dance that you practice so daily?" I laughed and sat more comfortably on the bed wanting to be more credible. However, being believable with all my panties wet was quite difficult. Hyunjin just laughed and walked over to the phone turning off the song that came on next.

"Do you think it's that easy?" he asked turning to face me and raising one eyebrow at which I shrugged my shoulders and nodded "then dance it. At least half as good as me."

"as if I only knew the steps..." again I shrugged my shoulders at which he came up to me, far too close for my current situation, and grabbing my hand he pulled me up.

"I'll teach you, not problem" he smiled and still holding my hand, began to rock his hips. I tried to look in a completely different direction but because of that I didn't even notice when he put his hand on my waist and turned my back to him. Then I saw that between the bed and the door stood a sizable mirror in which we were now reflected.

"it's not that difficult. I'll teach you a chorus and if you want more I'll teach you the whole choreo," he caught my hands in his and still standing behind me, lifted them up and directed how I should move them. At first they were the usual sort of hits in the air but after a while he suddenly turned me the other way so that for a moment I was face to face with him.

Then it only got worse, when he kept standing so close to me and holding my hands raising and lowering them every now and then I felt him rubbing against my butt. I thought it was normal after all, standing so close to each other, but as I felt him closer and closer it couldn't be normal anymore.

I wanted to move away holding on to the remnants of pride and dignity but I couldn't. I felt like I was hypnotized feeling his body so close to mine and how his hands held my wrists tightly.

"Sit down," he said in a low voice making me feel my legs yield.

"I'd love to," I replied quietly, more to myself, and sat down, which he did too but more next to me.

"Now repeat after me," I looked at him and seeing his stomach and thigh muscles tightening as he lifted his hips up made me weak. Then his hand went to his crotch and, as before, he moved it upward. From this position he smoothly moved to his knees and looked at me waiting for me to repeat his steps.

I, however, just sat and looked at him. I wasn't able to move an inch, still looking only at his shirtless torso and barely covered, muscular thighs. His forehead and neck were still wet from the earlier dance, my gaze focused on the drop of sweat that was now flying down his forehead and past his hairline. He, seeing my focus on his face, wiped the droplet away with the top of his hand and tilted his head to the side looking at me.

I looked into his eyes which were then even darker than they had always been, then he licked his lips and when I looked at them I had the urge to throw myself at him and bite into his lips. I involuntarily licked my lips which only occurred to me when he looked at them.

I saw that he was thinking about something and, taking a deep breath, he suddenly stood and approached me on his knees. Within a second he was over me as I lay down and with his lips he attacked mine. He kissed me like there was no tomorrow, very greedily and even insistently. But it was so fucking arousing that I felt like a million butterflies flying in my stomach again.

Feeling his hand on my waist, I put my hands on his broad shoulders and spread my legs more to have him closer. He, taking advantage of my moment of inattention, put his tongue between my lips and began to play with my tongue. Combined with his hips pushing against mine and feeling his hardness on my pubic crease, I began to moan directly into his mouth.

He chuckles between kisses and moved his hand to my breast. He began to massage and knead it every now and then teasing the nipple with his fingers. I was both angry and happy at the same time that I always slept without a bra, I was wearing just a satin T-shirt on the straps but I didn't even know that I would end up in his room, especially I would be lying down under him.

When he moved his kisses to my neck I began to scratch his back, I was impressed by how soft his skin was so I tried not to leave marks and scratches but hearing his barely audible moan when I ran my nails harder than before, I began to drive them hard into his skin and scratch him so as to leave as many marks as possible.

My fingers moved to his head and the long hair with which I began to play and pull. Especially when he sucked and nibbled the skin on my neck and cleavage, going lower and lower to my breasts. On my collarbone he stopped the longest and feeling how hard he bit into my skin I knew I was going to have a hickey there.

When he reached my T-shirt he literally ripped the fabric of it and pulled it off of me to immediately attack my right nipple with his lips which were now even plumper as a result of our hungry kissing.

I was now one big mess, lying there on the cold floor, pulling his hair when his sucking was too intense and all I was able to get out of myself were moans.

"Hyunjin... please," I whined as my clit became painful demanding any attention. He looked at me still holding my nipple in his mouth, to which I moaned again and when I pushed my hips up closer to his he understood what I meant.

Raising himself up to the height of my face with his right hand he ran his hand over my body from top to bottom, then again from bottom to top and stopping at my throat he embraced it with his slender fingers, looking into my eyes with an intense gaze.

Whenever I saw him talking to anyone, he was always smiling and his eyes resembled two moons or two dashes when he smiled. More than once I thought he was cute at the time. But now? His gaze was so intense and frightening that my body was going through chills and I didn't know myself if it was whether from fear or excitement.

I could feel him gripping my throat tighter and tighter and how I no longer had full access to air, but after a while he slid his hand back down. He rode it over my cleavage, my clavicles, between my breasts with his finger hooking over my already sensitive nipple from earlier sucking, my belly to the elastic of my sleep shorts.

He followed his hand with his eyes the whole way, his face serious and his breathing quick and deep. When his slender fingers went under the material of my shorts he noticed that I was not wearing any underwear and looked at me smiling gently. However, it wasn't the same smile I had talked about earlier, oh no.

Moving closer to my left breast, he put his hand deeper into my shorts and, looking at me, licked my nipple. Putting his finger between my libia, he put the nipple between his lips, still looking at me. Holding the nipple in his mouth and teasing it with his tongue, his finger teased my clit and entrance.

Finally, he began sucking on it while simultaneously inserting a single finger into my insides. All this time he never once broke eye contact with me until I threw my head back, hitting the floor with it.

His other hand he placed between my head and the floor and, sucking my nipple harder and harder, his finger moved up and down faster and faster. As I got closer and closer to coming, I moaned louder and louder. I didn't have to worry about anyone hearing me, we were alone in the big house after our parents went on vacation together and left us alone.

When I was already close and could feel the orgasm approaching me with great strides he stopped and pulled his hand from my shorts. He got up and stood up straight extending his hand to help me get up. When I stood next to him, he immediately attacked my mouth and kissing we walked closer to the bed.

Suddenly he moved away from me and pushed me backwards onto the mattress with all his strength. He stood over me and with a further serious look he grabbed my shorts and pulled them down pulling them off me. He threw them somewhere behind him after which he also pulled his own down along with his boxers throwing them in about the same place. He knelt over me and put his whole hand on my pussy, with his other hand propping himself up right next to my head. He began to rub my clit quickly, at which I reflexively began to moan loudly and arch my back.

I looked up at him forcing myself to open my eyes, he was kneeling over me all naked and his hard, straight, long cock was resting against his flat stomach. He raised his hand to my mouth and put his two fingers inside. I started sucking them as best I could which satisfied him because smirk after which he pulled them out of my mouth to immediately put them deep inside my pussy.

He started moving them suddenly and quickly for what I literally saw stars, after a while he stopped and grabbed my thighs to turn me with my back to him.

I arched my ass toward him when he forced me to kneel down, slapping my buttock with his whole hand and, standing with one leg on the bed and one on the floor, directed his cock at my entrance. He rubbed the tip all over my pussy a few times, which was an awesome feeling, and when after a while I heard the condom wrapper being ripped open I couldn't wait to feel him inside me.

Not even half a minute had passed when I felt him at my entrance again, I couldn't stand it and moved my hips back but he moved his own back and slaped my buttock hard again

"Not so fast, pretty doll" he laughed lightly which was even sexy and brought his tip closer to my entrance again. This time he pushed his hips gently forward entering me a few inches. I clenched my eyes and hands tightly on the quilt feeling a pleasantly painful stretch.

Hyunjin stepped out of me only to immediately enter me full length

"ahh f-fuck" I leaned my forehead against the mattress but he grabbed my hair and pulled me upwards. Having him deep inside me felt like he was even longer than how I saw him a moment ago.

He went in and out of me all the length, each time feeling him incredibly deep I arched my back. A few entrances later, he grabbed my hips and putting his foot further down on the bed, brought me even closer to him. He started moving his hips faster, much faster, and although he was now entering me halfway down his length I felt as blissful as ever.

Moment by moment he sped up and thrust harder and harder, moaning louder and louder which was so sexy that I again felt like I was going to come at any moment.

But then he slowed down and, now standing with both feet on the floor, he moved my hips so that now I took control. I tried to do it smoothly, but feeling so much pleasure was difficult. This was clearly not enough for Hyunjin and not long after, he pushed my hips forward so that I was lying on my stomach, spread my legs giving him access to my pussy and lay on my back. He kissed my shoulders while entering me and when he was all in, he raised himself up on his hands and began to move inside me.

Slowly at first but suddenly he quickened his pace and entered me incredibly fast and hard so that my body bounced off the mattress. We were in this position for quite a while, he was moving me all the time at the same pace but which slowly brought me to the edge.

He, probably feeling my pussy starting to tighten up on him, got out of me and rolled over onto my back holding my leg, which after a while he placed on his shoulder as he re-entered me with a loud and long moan.

He leaned over me and began to fuck me even faster and harder than before. I moaned even louder and flexed my body feeling every millimeter of him deep inside me, I held tightly to his shoulders digging my nails into his skin until he straightened up.

He placed my leg on the bed, his hands on my stomach and, pressing my body into the mattress, he renewed his movements. This time feeling my orgasm approaching I literally screamed his name, my whole body shaking and writhing through too much stimulation.

"Fuck Hyunjin, I'm coming," I exclaimed and arched my back as he started rubbing my clit, smirking. As I came, I clamped my legs over his hips and pulled him closer, wanting to feel him as deeply as possible. My pussy clenched so tightly on his cock that after a while I felt his thighs begin to shake, he leaned over me and, holding my hair tightly, came deep inside me.

His moan was much hotter than the earlier ones, much higher having a combination of pleasure and relief. He lay on top of me with all his weight as we breathed quickly, we tried to calm down so for a long while neither of us said anything.

Finally, when he breathed deeply, he get up and climbed out of me, pulled off the condom and threw it in the basket in the nightstand. Again he lay on top of me but this time with half of his body and, putting his face in the hollow of my neck, began to kiss it.

After a longer moment, his hand began to move down my side, hooking my breast, still kissing my neck but getting hungrier and hungrier

"you're so fucking sexy I can't stop myself" he muttered directly into my ear and slid his hand down to my pussy

"haven't you had enough yet?"

"I never get enough, doll".

________________________________

[cairoisashapeshifter]

GoW Best friend Baldur x Reader Headcannons

▪︎ Warnings: a little cussing, angst at the final 5 points, death.

▪︎ Word count: 1,335

▪︎ A/N: Best Friend Baldur might be my favourite thing ever. I love him platonically so so much omg. Here are some of my headcannons for him as a best friend!

• Bestfriend! Baldur knew he liked your personality when you two first met and tried to kill each other and instead cracked so many jokes and had so much fun he forgot what he what he even tried to do in the first place.

• Bestfriend! Baldur who knew you two would be close friends when you poured water for the both of you one night "I can't taste that shit" "If someone said 'I can taste the water' I'd be worried".

• Bestfriend! Baldur dubbed you his closest friend when he noticed you never ate or drank in front of him even if you were hungry or thirsty.

• Bestfriend! Baldur had the love language of words. Because he couldn't feel, when you two hung out your touch would be telling each other affirmations. "I care about you, you know that?" "I know." It made you realise just how important words are when it comes to showing care.

• Bestfriend! Baldur has the voice of a dying animal but loves to sing. His favourite things to sing are sea shanties or the equivalent of "Another Irish drinking song" - which would be his favourite if he was in the modern world - and he loves it when you join in and sing equally as bad, even if you can actually sing.

• Bestfriend! Baldur loves music and knows how to play instruments really well, if you give him any and a few hours or days, he would learn the basics and play it like he had played it his entire life. When he was over at your house, he would play you music all the time. You even had a little Baldur corner filled with all of his favourite instruments he can play.

• Bestfriend! Baldur doesn't care how high he flies with his dragon because he doesn't feel a thing, but, when you became part of his life and rode with him, he always made sure to fly slowly and close to the ground much to your chagrin.

• Bestfriend! Baldur loves comedy. He would spend most of your time together telling crude and vulgar jokes that never ceased to make you laugh. One of his favourite activities is you and him just sitting together somewhere and trying to see who can make either the best joke or the worst.

• Bestfriend! Baldur likes to tattoo himself he hopes that through it he can feel anything. But, when you two were sitting alone and he was working on his leg and you reach an arm out and said "I want one" He never hesitated and gave you tattoos all over one side of your body that matched his own over time. Eventually he tattooed your name on himself in a prayer reserved for siblings or family members, soon enough, you asked for a matching one with his name.

• Bestfriend! Baldur liked making bets and dares with you, especially crazy ones. "Bet you can't climb the wall of Asgrad", "....try me". This was how you met Heimdall and eventually everyone else after you went to the great lodge.

• Bestfriend! Baldur definitely arm wrestles you. He wins every time but he likes to sit down and do it anyway. Over time, you actually became strong enough to hold your own against him and even win at times which he delighted in. This became the way you two said hello to each other, no words, you see each other, you arm wrestle.

• Bestfriend! Baldur has zero self care for obvious reasons but when you two met, he began letting you braid his hair and beard. If the day happens to be a day where you want it slow, he just sits down and let's you play with his hair as much as you like. He found the activity partially boring but since you two had the most in depth conversations during this time he also found it relaxing.

• Bestfriend! Baldur loves to fight and since you have the best friend you also have the pleasure of him trying to get you two to have a friendly match. At first you were against it, but ever since he offered to personally train you and you two have been doing it none stop to the point where it became second nature to 'play' fight.

• Bestfriend! Baldur doesn't like when his touched outside of wrestling or play fighting because it reminded him of his curse but when you flopped down on his lap with your head rested on his thighs after a really bad day he let you stay and would run his hand through your hair. He realised that you do so much to make him comfortable around you so he let you have this for an hour everyday. You never told him he was accidentally pulling your hair sometimes.

• Bestfriend! Baldur spent most of his life without intimacy and he yearned to feel that way again, to feel so close to someone and to hold and kiss and be able to love and be loved by them but he never had that or understood platonic intimacy or love until he met you. You were often the person he went to first for anything, if he was frustrated he would vent to you, if he was happy he would go and share it with you first, if he wanted something he always told you first. But beyond that, you were the one who always offered him that verbal platonic intimacy he needed.

• Bestfriend! Baldur and you had this almost psychic connection. If anything happened to the other you would feel it. If he had a angry day you found yourself anticipating and preparing for it unconsciously, if something bad happened to you he would be in front of your door because "I jus'knew", he never was wrong.

• Bestfriend! Baldur's last moment when he said "snow" was because he wanted to feel the world around him, feel the snow touch his skin for the first time in years. But he also remembered all the time you and him had snow ball fights or made snow valkyries on the ground or created snow men only two throw each other at them, his last thought was he wanted to do all those things again with you one last time.

• Bestfriend! Baldur's death was something your felt like a void in your chest. Like something had been suddenly ripped away. You only understood when he never showed up again

• Bestfriend! Baldur's mother, Freya, watched you from her front door with confused eyes until you said "He-He was my best friend". She held you close to her chest as you both cried together, her quietly listening through her tears as you tried to tell her all the things you two did through choked sobes.

• Bestfriend! Baldur's mother, Freya, became like your own family. She would teach you all that she knew and listen to you as you spoke of him, she would hold you when things became hard, and read you stories she would read to him as a child. She became so much like family to you, you accidentally called her mom a few times and she let you. Eventually you were known as Child of Freya and Sibling of Baldur.

• Bestfriend! Baldur's mother, Freya and you got close because both of you were looking for a peice of him in each other. She found a peice of him in you in the shape of the habits he had that you picked up, in the instruments you played that used to belong to him, in the way you joked and told stories, and in the stories about him you gave. In her you saw the qualities in him that he never knew he got from her, like her penitent for singing or humming, like the way she let you rest your head on her thighs after a hard day.

[r0s3s26]

This is @shxtodxroki here for our match-up exchange, I’m just sending this from my main blog :>

Name: Bee

Age:19

Pronouns: She/her

Gender for Matches: I would be happy being paired with any gender! And I'd like romantic matches please :D

Fandoms: Haikyuu and JJK :>

Character Preferences: If possible I’d prefer no villains in JJK like Mahito or Sukuna (Though like you said in your ask, my exception would be Choso!) 

Appearance: Bright pink hair (which is wavy if I take care of it properly) that goes a little past my shoulders, 5’7” with green eyes, pretty pale and I have freckles but you can see them much better in the sun. Tend to prefer more cute, pastel and/or feminine styles, but I also like to mix things up sometimes and try different styles especially anything cozy (and I like wearing nerdy/silly t-shirts and shorts/sweatpants almost all the time when I’m at home). I have stretch marks on my legs that I’m a bit insecure about, and lots of little freckles/moles on my arms! 

Personality: Introvert, I love spending time with the people I care about but I also need at least a little bit of alone time each day just to decompress and relax. I have pretty bad anxiety, so I tend to overthink and I’m frequently stressed even if I don’t show it, and even about small things that most people don’t even think about. I’m also super awkward and shy especially when I first meet people especially since I sometimes struggle to read social situations, I’m really not the type to initiate conversations much at first and I even struggle with initiating physical affection with someone I’m close to. Once I feel safe and close with someone I tend to ramble quite a lot about my interests or just topics I’ve dived into recently, and I think I’m a pretty good listener as well! :) I try my best to generally be a friendly person and look out for others, and I tend to avoid conflict unless someone I love is being hurt. My worst trait is probably my procrastination. I’m currently in college and studying to hopefully become an either an ELA or sociology professor, not totally sure yet. I really love learning about things I find interesting/important and getting to share what I learn with people :] I usually enjoy staying up somewhat late as I just like being up and being able to use my time how I like.

Qualities in a Partner: Confidence/willingness to initiate since it’s something I struggle with, someone who’s patient and willing to listen when I’m having a hard time (and I’m more than happy to do the same in return) and someone honest and loyal. Since I’m very anxious, I’d prefer someone who’s open with their affection with me! They don’t have to make it super obvious in public or anything though:) And someone who’s willing to kill/get rid of bugs! My ideal first date would probably be something simple like going out for coffee/a sweet treat and a walk, something that would give us a chance to talk and get to know one another!

Love Languages: Gifts and physical touch for giving (I love getting to see people’s reactions when I get them gifts I know they’ll love) and physical touch and words of affirmation for receiving.

Interests/Hobbies: I’m a big fan of horror or mystery movies/media. (My favorite movie is Knives Out) I really enjoy reading and writing too! I enjoy anime/manga (my favorite anime is Yuri on Ice) and there are a few kinds of video games I really enjoy like visual novels (especially spooky ones), games like Danganronpa or or “cozy games” like Minecraft or Stardew Valley! I also play the cello and I work backstage as the stage manager in most of my school’s theater productions. I really enjoy all kinds of music, I listen to anything from k-pop to musicals to “emo” music to just regular pop. I’m currently trying to learn how to play DnD, and I really enjoy collecting things even when I lose interest! (As in, even after I stop fixating on an interest so much and switch over to a new one, I never get rid of the merch because it still brings me joy and reminds me of how important that thing was to me :> ) I like anything that makes me emotional, whether it’s soul-crushingly sad or super heartwarming, I just like when media can make me feel things, and I’m a big crier since I tend to get emotional pretty easily :]

Dislikes: Bugs, math, people with an ego that makes them treat others poorly, vanilla-scented things

Sorry this is so long, I tend to ramble on and have trouble condensing things lol but I hope this is enough, and thank you so much again for agreeing to this exchange! I’m excited to see what you think :)

Your Matchups are…Kurro Tetsuro and Nanami Kento

<3 He would think your style is super cute

<3 Would buy you accessories that he thinks would look good on you

<3 Also buys matching nerd t-shirts

<3 Because his best friend is kenma he has a lot of experience with introverted people

<3 I feel like he is a secret omnivert but he puts up a extravert front

<3 Like pretends to be super social but actually get overstimulated super quick(projecting)

Like picture this:

You both just left early from a work party at his job because your social battery was going down and you had been wanting to leave for a bit. Once you guys get home and start settling into bed he gets his over the ear headphones he usually uses for working out, and he gets into yalls shared bed and just starts cuddling into your side and is just super quiet. You pull him closer and whisper “are you ok?” he nods his head yes and just nuzzles his head into the side of your neck and wraps his arms around you and just calms his breathing

<3 When you guys first met/started to hang out he was super ok with carrying the conversations for a bit until you wanted to open up more to him

<3 He would help you stay on track and study for your degree

<3 Study dates would be 50% actually studying and the other 50% would be talking shit about your classmates and the people at his job

<3 He would tell you fun facts each day just cause

<3 When he gets little gifts from you he ether puts them on his work desk or his desk at home so he always has a little piece of you to remind him off

<3 Would try getting into some of your hobbies with you like horror movies and manga

<3 But for video game stuff he introduces you to Kenma because he is a streamer and now you are a regular guest on his streams when he plays games like Minecraft, Danganronpa, or any other game he thinks you would also enjoy to play

(Kurro secretly loves that you and his best friend also get along so well cause you 2 are the most important people in his life)

Song:

<3 You and Nanami are pretty similar in certain ways

<3 Like you are both pretty introverted and will probably keep to y’alls selves most of the time

<3 Likes the style/aesthetic difference between you both

<3 Also will buy you stuff that matches your style

<3 Both of these rich ass man ready to spoil you, lucky asf

<3 Secretly would like physical affection

<3 Like the biggest cuddle bug but don’t tell anyone else that or he will be mortified

<3 Would kiss your stretch marks, and whisper things he loves about you to make you feel better like this:

You both had just gotten out of the shower and ready to unwind for the night. You are in a pair of his boxers and an old Yuri on Ice shirt reading a manga you had recently bought. Nanami goes and lays next to your legs on the bed, slightly laying his head in your lap. He sees your exposed stretch marks and starts to kiss them and whisper sweet nothings into your skin. Stuff like “You're so beautiful my love” and “Love you so much”. Just being such a lovey dovey sap for you

<3 Loves going to cafes with you

<3 Has a list going on with you where you rank the best cafes in the area so you both know which ones to go to next

<3 So we both know what Nanami looked like in high school

<3 EMOOO

<3 I feel like he still listens to that type of music still

<3 Like has playlist full of Panic! at the Disco, Pierce the Veil, Paramore, MCR, maybe some green day in there

<3 Also still has his old t shirts so sometimes you both wear the same band tees unironically and laugh at each other

Song:

(Authors Note: Sorry if it isnt super long, im still trying to get my groove with this😓)

[ameagrice]

Capsize

chapter nineteen | time to pray

percy jackson x fem reader

There are a lot of things that make up a person. Their habits; their hobbies, their likes and dislikes. More intricately, the way they tie their shoelaces; their favourite song and the reason why.

It was bright summer. Even in the evening, as the sun began to set, the sky was turning from a gorgeous yellow to a burnt, crisp orange-pink, streaks in the sky. Driving across the passover, you rested your elbow on the wound-down window, just watching the water shining with every movement. It was still, and so pretty. You tried to take a picture of it, but a Blackberry couldn’t compare to real life.

Billy Ocean was playing on the radio, your dad’s favorite singer, and he sang quietly along to a song. Usually he’d tell you that you’d wound the window down too far and to put it back up, but he was in a relatively good mood. You hadn’t asked why.

It wasn’t like your relationship was all bad. He had his unusual ways—strict tendencies. You had your lashings out—angry tears and despair. Most days, you managed to look past it.

Especially on the good days.

You’d gone for food out at some small restaurant you’d suggested. Your dad always had been more for the extravagant, up-town places. You were happy with a Chinese takeout, or a McDonalds. He wore a Rolex and drove a Range Rover. You liked the smaller cars your cousin drove with the cute Hawaiian decorations hanging from the centre mirror. He was your dad, and you loved him in a way, but never were you close. You couldn’t think of a day in your life when you both had been. Maybe when you were younger, but not much came your way after that.

You were more like acquaintances, than father and daughter. It didn’t help that you didn’t look like him much, either. You always thought it was nice when your friends looked like their parents—the comments like ‘don’t you look so much like your mom!’ or ‘wow, you and your dad look so alike.’

What did your dad have to bond with you over?

The noodles, apparently.

“Hey, we’ll try that again at some point,” he said, turning the music down. You didn’t see the point. You wanted to lean over and turn it back up. “Wasn’t that food so good?”

“Yeah,” you nodded lightly. That’s why I picked it.

When you got home, his girlfriend was there. She smiled and gave you a small hey, but that was the end of it.

Later, you heard them yelling about why she wasn’t invited for dinner.

You never went back to the restaurant. Not with your dad.

—

“DUDE.”

“DUDE!”

“HEY! Can you hear me?!”

You opened your eyes, grimacing. Percy sat next to you. “Bro, you’re scrambling my brain right now.” You sat up, huffing slowly.

The first thing you noticed was the lack of jacket. It was on the floor at the end of the small cot you lay on, visibly shredded. You looked down, expecting the worst, only to find that your hand was in perfect condition: your skin seemed to gleam a little, like you’d had a full polish and shine. Everything was back to normal. You reached up to your ear—all fine.

“Huh,” you said, turning your arm this way and that, expecting it. There was no pain. “Thought I was gonna be a one-armed bandit.”

Percy snorted. “They managed to stop it, sorry to tell you.”

“Damn.”

You looked around. A lantern filled with white light showed the shimmer of the tent you were inside of. A silver jacket, which seemed to look around your size, lay on a small table in the middle of the space.

It came flooding back. Your head snapped to Percy.

“Annabeth?”

His whole expression just dropped. “She’s gone. Not dead, I mean, that wasn’t the right thing to say. But we can’t find her. It’s like she’s disappeared completely.”

You sat in silence, taking it in. “She’d have never fallen off that cliff if she hadn’t been trying to save me.”

“Don’t say that—”

“Well it’s true!” You burst. Percy startled. “It’s true and you know it is! She only jumped at Thorn because he jumped at me. Because I was the weakest one there and he thought he could take me. Am I wrong?”

His hesitation stabbed your heart, but all in all, you knew you were speaking nothing but the truth.

“We’ll find her.” You decided firmly. “She’s my sister. As annoying as she is, we can’t leave her.”

Percy nodded. And that was that.

“One of the girls left you a jacket since yours got ruined,” Percy leaned over to grab it. In your hands, it felt like silk, but putting it on, it blocked out every ounce of coldness in the air.

“Whoever designed these is my new favorite,” you mumbled, standing up. Your legs felt stiff, unused, but with a tight stretch of your arms above your head, on your toes, it wasn’t nothing that couldn’t be fixed. “Shall we go find the others?”

You first found Grover. He looked star-struck, as if he’d just seen a meteorite or an eclipse. When he saw you, he sighed deeply.

You watched as he visibly deflated like a helium balloon. “Oh, thank the gods you’re alright! I thought you were dead!”

“Nope,” you popped. “Still standing.”

“Well, I’m glad you’re okay,” he said.

“Where are the kids?” You asked, scouring the area. “Nico and Bianca?”

“Nico’s over there, building a snowman. Bianca is…well, I’ll take you to her.” Percy grabbed your elbow to pull you along.

Walking between tents set up (and dodging wolves prowling the area) you set your sights on Bianca sitting with two older girls on either side of her. She laughed like she hadn’t had a good bout of laughter in her life, like nothing had ever been funnier. It was lightening, in a way. She wore the same coat you did, but she looked more…alive? than before. Her skin glowed healthily, and there seemed to be a different vibe around her.

“Hey,” Percy greeted. His voice didn’t hold its usual spark of cheekiness. You guessed the Annabeth situation had drained him of it. “Bianca, can we talk to you for a minute?”

The girls at her side pulled a face. You fought with yourself to keep your mouth shut. Rudeness was a quality you did not take well to, even if you yourself could have your moments.

She nodded, her smile falling slowly. “Sure.” The first thing she said to you was, “I really thought you were going to die.”

“Not a chance,” you shook your head. “Didn’t even hurt.”

She looked between yourself and Percy as if to say is she for real? Bianca raised her eyebrows.

You reached a small clearing away from the camp. Not far away enough to be dangerous, but enough to grant some privacy in your conversation.

“So,” she looked at Percy. “What’s this about? If Nico said something about his mythomagic cards again, you just gotta go along with it—”

“It’s not about the card—game—thingy. Could you just explain your girl group to B? She, you know, doesn’t know.”

“Oh!” Bianca clasped her hands together enthusiastically, beaming all of a sudden. “I’m a Hunter of Artemis, now!”

You tilted your head a little. “What’s that? Like a new band or something?”

Bianca laughed. “No! Artemis’s hunters are the girls that saved us. They hunt monsters and things. And get this—it gives you immortality.”

Your eyes practically bugged out of your head. “Huh? Like, actually? That’s a thing?”

“Yeah! Cool, right?”

“No!” Percy blurted. “Not cool! Bianca, you and Nico were supposed to come back to camp with us! Not join a Girl Scout group!”

“It’s not Girl Scouts, Percy! This is good for me! I can’t babysit Nico anymore. And he needs different company.”

“Babysit?” You frowned. “Hang on. Backtrack. When did all this happen?”

“When you were knocked out,” Bianca explained, leaning on her hip. She crossed her arms. “Artemis offered me it.”

“What, you just say you wanna sign up and you’re in?”

“You’re not thinking of joining?” Percy looked at you incredulously. “Come on, guys!”

“I mean…!” You looked away. “Immortality?” You offered.

“So?!”

“You have to say a pledge,” Bianca informed. Her eyes seemed brighter talking about it. “Something about pledging yourself to Artemis, and…uhhh…”

“I mean, it doesn’t sound like a bad idea,” you wrinkled your nose. Percy looked devastated.

“Oh!” She snapped her fingers. “And you have to pledge a life of no boys.”

You whipped your head back in her direction. “No boys?!”

“Yeah. That’s it.”

“Yeah…I’ll pass on that one…”

“Look, Percy thinks I’m making a horrible decision. But I’ve already joined, and I’m having fun already. Nothing bad can come of this,” Bianca reasoned, flaying her hands.

You looked from her to Percy. He still looked horribly defeated. But Bianca looked so happy. And who were you to take that away from someone?

“I think if you’re happy, then that’s what matters.” Bianca squealed. “Look, let’s just go back to the others and see about getting back to camp. God knows we all need to.”

—

It turned out your only form of transport was a school bus. A school bus formerly a sun chariot. A sun chariot belonging to…

“Apollo.”

At first, you’d expected to feel the anger you did when Artemis explained she’d called on her brother for transport. The man who gave you nightmares when he believed you and your friends were at fault for stealing Zeus’s bolt. The man who threatened you in your sleep. But when he finally arrived in person, and began looking down your small line of friends…

“Oh, dear Jesus…”

“Oh, dude, gross,” Percy huffed. “Don’t tell me you actually like this guy?”

You were encapsulated by the blond beauty that was Apollo. In person he seemed to shine more. His hair was a perfect shade of gold-blond, his teeth bright white and perfectly straight. His face was delicately crafted, and he stood lean but strong talking to Thalia. She seemed to be caught on him just like you, fumbling over her words.

“Are you blind?” You muttered, unable to look away. “Look at him…” your voice caught.

“Don’t get emotional, dude. Look at him! He’s not worth it.” Percy rolled his eyes. “Wake up! Look—”

“Percy Jackson.” Apollo stared at him hard for a few seconds.

“Yeah. I mean, yes, sir,” Percy fumbled.

For a minute, Apollo was silent, just staring. Percy began to lean his weight from foot to foot.

Then he looked to you.

“Hey,” he pointed at you. “I know you,” he grinned crookedly.

You hummed sweetly, letting a soft, lovesick smile come to your face. Percy elbowed you.

If you’d been expecting anything more, you weren’t going to get it.

“Well!” Apollo clapped his hands. “We should get going. Ride only goes one way: West. And if you miss it, you’ve missed it.”

He’d pulled up in a red Maserati. It only seemed to have two seats.

You raised the issue yourself.

“Uh, Apollo?”

“Yes?” He stood admiring his own car.

“There are only two seats,” you twirled your hair with your finger. Apollo turned to look at you. “There’s a lot more of us.”

“Well, aren’t you observant.” He smiled prettily.

If looks could kill, Percy would have had Apollo buried a thousand feet under.

“Whats got your frilly knickers in a twist?” You mumbled, leaning in closer to Percy as Apollo set about changing the car to—oh, God, a bus.

“Nothing,” he huffed. “Just come on.”

You all boarded the bus.

The Hunters piled in the back, muttering something about being far away from Apollo. You couldn’t understand why. If anything, you’d die to be closer to Apollo. That man was straight from Heaven.

Nico sat up front with yourself, Percy, Grover and Thalia. It felt a little weird to be leaving without Annabeth, wrong almost, knowing she could be somewhere out there or worse, but there wasn’t much choice.

“This is so cool!” Nico scrambled to the front seat, climbing up and turning the wheel this way and that. “Is this really the sun? I thought Helios and Selene were the sun and moon gods? How come sometimes it’s them and sometimes it’s you and Artemis?”

“Downsizing,” Apollo leaned his elbow on the window screen. “The Romans started it. They couldn’t afford a load of temple sacrifices so they laid off Helios and Selene and just folded their job descriptions into ours. My sis got the moon. I got the sun. It was pretty annoying at first, but at least I got this car.”

You tried to imagine Apollo as the moon god. It didn’t sit right with you. He was definitely a sun guy.

“But how does it work?” Nico rambled on. “I thought the sun was a big ball of fiery gas?”

Apollo ruffled Nico’s hair and chuckled. Probably loving the attention.

“That rumor probably got started because Artemis used to call me a big fiery ball of gas. Seriously, kid, it depends on whether you’re talking astronomy or philosophy. You want to talk astronomy? Bah, what fun is that? You want to talk about how humans think about the sun? Ah, now that’s more interesting. They’ve got a lot riding on the sun…Uh, so to speak. It keeps them warm, grows their crops, powers engines, makes everything look, well, sunnier. This chariot is built out of human dreams about the sun, kid. It’s as old as Western Civilization. Every day, it drives across the sky from east to west, lighting up all those puny little mortal lives. The chariot is a manifestation of the sun’s power, the way mortals perceive it. Make sense?”

Nico blinked. “No.”

“Well then, just think of it as a really powerful, really strong car.”

“Can I drive?”

Apollo shook his head instantly. “No.”

“Oooh!” You shot up in your seat, waving your hand enthusiastically. “Can I?”

“Y—”

“Absolutely not,” Percy said. You pulled a face. “Dude, you can’t even ride a bike!”

“So?”

“So?”

“Hmm…satyr…too furry. Daughter of Zeus!”

“No.” Thalia deadpanned. “Not a chance.”

“C’mon,” Apollo persuaded. “How old are you?”

Thalia hesitated. “I don’t know.”

Apollo tapped a finger to his lips. “You’re fifteen. Almost sixteen.”

“How do you know that?”

“Hey, I’m the God of Prophecy. I know stuff. You’ll turn sixteen in about a week.”

“That’s my birthday! December twenty-second!”

“Which means you’re old enough to drive with a learner’s permit!”

“Uh--”

“I know what you’re going to say,” said Apollo. “You don’t deserve an honour like driving the sun chariot.”

You wrinkled your nose. The appeal of Apollo was slowly lowering. Maybe you could look past it. Well...

“That’s not what I was going to say.”

“Don’t sweat it! Seriously, Maine to Long Island? Pfftttt, easy trip. And don’t worry about the last kid I trained. You’re Zeus’s daughter. He won’t blast you out of the sky.”

Thalia’s eyes bugged. “What.”

Apollo hit a button on the dashboard and ushered Nico out of the seat, pushing Thalia down gently on to it. A sign popped up on the windowscreen. WARNING: STUDENT DRIVER. 

“This is it,” you murmured depressingly. “It was nice knowing you, Percy. I’ll see you in the Fields of Asphodel.”

“Bro. Don’t jinx us before we’ve even moved,” he moaned back just as depressingly. 

“Take it away!” Apollo told Thalia. “You’ll be a natural! Speed equals heat, so start slowly, and make sure you’ve got good altitude before you speed up.”

“She’s gonna set us on fire.” 

“Dude, shut up!”

Thalia gripped the steering wheel so tightly her knuckles turned white. Percy leaned over in his seat. “What’s wrong?”

“N-nothing is wrong,” she shook. “Nothing.”

She pulled back on the wheel. It tilted, and the bus lurched upward so fast that Percy fell back, literally crushing you behind him. You could have sworn your nose cracked. 

“I swear to God!--”

“Sorry!”

“Slower!” Apollo said. He stayed standing like nothing was wrong, but his face showed his tenseness. That tight-fitting shirt shifted as he moved a hand to hold onto a rail. 

“Sorry! I’ve got it all under control.”

You turned your head slowly to the window. Where Thalia had pulled off the ground, a circle of burning trees lay flattened and smoking. You gulped. “We’re done for.”

“Don’t say that!” Apollo tried sounding positive, flashing a shaky smile. “You’re smart enough to know things will work out.”

“Yeah, my funeral bills.”

“Thalia, lighten up on the accelerator,” Percy instructed. 

“I’ve got it, Percy,” she said, gritting her teeth. But she kept it floored. Physics might have explained why you were pushed back in your seat, but you were so distracted by Thalia’s foot on the floor that all theory left your brain. 

“Loosen up,” he said. His hands were tight on the seat in front. 

You sighed, trying to sit up. Your words were strained. “I may as well start praying now.”

“We need to veer left for Long Island,” Apollo said. “Hang a left.”

Thalia jerked the wheel. Percy’s head bashed your mouth this time.

“DUDE!”

“Thalia!”

She swerved right, and this time, you fell into Percy. Your forehead met his chin. He yelped while you shouted, a piercing pain shocking you. 

“Ah...a little lower, sweetheart. Cape Cod is freezing over.”

The bus pitched down, and Percy screamed a girly scream next to you. Apollo fell down the aisle and you were so shocked that all you could do was burst out laughing, terrified. He started climbing back up the rows of seats. 

“Take the wheel!” Grover begged.

“No worries, all she has to do is just learn--”

“No worries?!” You yelled. “I have dreams, man! Take the wheel!”

Below you, a city covered in snow began to smoke in small plumes. Rooftops began to literally incinerate, the snow melting away in less than a few seconds. 

“Pull up!” Percy yelled. 

Thrown back in your seat once more like a rag doll, you watched out the window with a hammering heart as the fires began to be snuffed out by a sudden jet of cold that took over as the bus moved away. In the distance, you could seethe coastline--camp wasn’t too far away.

“There!” Apollo pointed. “Camp Half-Blood, dead ahead. Let’s slow down, dear. Dead is only an expression.”

Thalia was thundering towards camp quicker than you found comfortable. You hadn’t driven a car before (unless bumper cars counted at a carnival), but you could even feel something wasn’t right about her speed coming in to camp. 

“I’m under control,” she muttered. “I’m under control.”

You’d gotten so close now that the people in the lake were visible. 

“Brake,” Apollo said. 

“I can do this.”

“BRAKE!”

You were all slammed forward, your face smarting as it hit the seat in front of you. You barely felt Percy’s arm fling out in front of you, though the effort was wasted; it did nothing. 

The bus hit the canoe lake. Every bone in your body jolted. The bus floated to the surface, bobbing up and down. You could hear steam sizzling. 

Everyone sat up slowly, including you. 

“Well, said Apollo. You were right, darling. You had everything under control. Let’s go see if we boiled anyone important, shall we?”

All I could think of was the ‘Jesus take the wheel’ song from Vine. Anyway, as usual, thoughts are appreciated. Hope you enjoyed!

Taglist:

@bl6o6dy @embersparklz @lilyevanswhore @rottenstyx @hawkeye12 @rory-cakes @i-am-scared-and-useless-bisexual @marshmallow12435 @luckydragontriumph @lantsovheiress @distinguishedmakerpandapatrol @bugsys-bubble @twsssmlmaa @gayandfairycore @padsfirewhisky @emu281 @mrswang17 @jessiegerl

[yoon-topias]

Yoontopia Chapter 8.5 { Unpacking Desires }

⟡ Warnings: Smut, angst, Sexual tension, dirty talk, praise, making out, overstimulation, grinding (orgasm in clothing), teasing, Dom!Yoongi, Sub!OC, pet names, use of the name 'daddy', slight Exhibitionism (In front of window with curtains open and cracked open), Strong language, depression, mental health issues, references to self harm, risky behavior, spanking, biting.

⟡ 18+ (minors DNI, some chapters have mature content)

⟡ Best friend's older brother x OC

⟡ Summary: After packing up to move Both Violet and Yoongi need a shower but what happens when she asks him to wash her hair again after so long. They both see parts of each other they haven't seen.

⟡ 8.4k words

Yoongi Pov: 

We spent the rest of the morning to midafternoon not only bickering about what is to go and what is to stay, but joking around like the old days. With her only in those tiny shorts and sport bra just made me wanna do unspeakable things that push more boundaries than imaginable. She's currently in the shower not a bath for once and here I'm waiting in her room like a puppy begging for their owner to come out. I can hear her music lightly playing and her voice lightly singing along with the water making it feel even more serene. It's not a fast paced song like she normally has on her playlist. What's this playlist cause' I need it. The way her voice sounds is taking me to my utopia. Won't hurt to unlock it for a second right? She's in my utopia, our utopia I like to think. when we're in my bed the silk sheets draping over us under those fucking stars, her own constellations shining back at me.  

She's on top of me her knees on either side of me caging me, in nothing but my t-shirt and those purple fucking panties all those years ago. They still have a chokehold over me. My hands placed on her upper thighs, my thumb in the crease of her hip and thigh. Fuck. 

My head hits the wall behind me as I wait for her to beckon me inside that bathroom. I know it's coming, she knows it's coming but when? I have no clue.

Her body makes me weak as I move my hands closer to her most intimate spots. She lets out a breathy moan as I kiss on her neck. My hand finds it way closer to my sweats. I want to feel something. No, her. 

Lightly rubbing my thumb up and down over my sweats, my semi hard cock aching for some relief I can't give it, not yet at least. Fuck. I need to chain it up forever. Haven't I learned yet? My utopia is brings out things in me, and right now I can't be having a fucking semi hard on waiting for Vi to call me into that bathroom. Just a little more won't do no harm. Right? 

She pulls my hand away from her thigh and moves it up onto her chest. Her breasts not only feels like the softest skin I've ever touched, she is the silk sheets I've slept with all these years. I lean in and start at her collarbone kissing down slowly. Every motion is calculated, as I distract her mind as I move my other hand to her panties tug them to the side. She moans my name as I do "Yoongi." it's so breathy which only feeds my inner demons. My mouth released admiring my work the purple mark I left on my purple girl. "What have I said baby? It's not Yoongi, It's Sir to you." giving her chin a tap "Come on say it, baby." encouraging her as my thumb slowly starts rubbing circles taking her to another world in our own place we have built. She's soaking and it's all for me. "Say it pretty, or I'll stop. You don't want that do you?" rubbing a little faster we haven't taken our eyes from each other. She arches a little in my lap. My other hand lets go of her breast and lands right on her ass to keep in place she ain't goin' nowhere she's mine. Rubbing faster, I feel her get so soaked that my hand is covered. I stop she wines. "I told you."  and she opens her mouth to say it "S-"

"Yoongi! You can come in." Fuck. 

I went too far in my utopia. She takes me to those places and in the worst of times. No, I walk right into it myself. She is just there waiting for me. Looking down at myself, my hand is on my semi hard little wet patch on my pants. Am I embarrassed? Hell no, why would I? I'm a man and have my own fantasies I need fulfilled, was not the best moment but with her there is no wrong moment when I let myself indulge. "Are you sure Vi?" I hear her turn off the music and yell overtop the water. "Yes! Please, it's been forever since you washed my hair." 

Normally she's in the bath covered in those heavenly vanilla bubbles that make her smell like the Vi I know, her vanilla mixing with my musky warm vanilla. But a shower? there will be nothing covering her. My eyes will get to look at how the suds will run down her back into the drain covering her body. Soapy. Slippery.  Soft. 

The letter 'S' will be the end of me before I even make it to the letter 'V'. Maybe I need to learn the alphabet backwards cause’ she has already ended me without trying. 

"Okay, I'm coming!" trying to think of something that will make me not have a hard on mhm. Hans saying "dick too good." Yep disgusting, last thing I want in my mind. Jin and Hobi on the couch ass naked, where I sit. Good another to make me less hard. "Are you coming?" she is yelling for me, looking down at myself as good as it's gonna get.

Stepping forward the weight of my legs feels like two tons attached to my body dragging me to my death. She is behind that door with the lights off, just a few candles lit, a clear shower wall, in nothing but a swimsuit. She begged after all the hard work of packing to wash her hair to "feel comfort" and if she makes the joke like she used to about calling me daddy, it's over for me. 

It's been years since I've snuck into this same bathroom to wash her hair, with my sister in another room. This time there is no sneaking, her bedroom door is wide open to an empty apartment. With her yelling for me behind a very thin door that can be heard from every corner of the apartment.  My hand, reaching for the door knob turning it lightly hearing the click of the latch releasing,  already eating me alive. "Vi turn like when you're in the bath, facing away so I don't get sprayed with water as much as possible." As I step it the lighting from the two candles all I can see is her back the way it curves since when did she wear a two piece swimsuit? Fuck. 

This damn bathroom with the candles and her stars on the ceiling is truly a work of art, she is the priceless art in a museum all for me. The steam from the shower is already suffocating me, one more step, Yoongi one more.  Once I step in I shut the door behind me and all I can see is her back, ass, god those thighs. Running my tongue ring against my teeth. Her head is leaning into the water, reaching her hand up to run through her hair, all I can do is road map her body adding little stars in my mind I want to explore, she is one big star in my mind at this point. 

Her hair running over her shoulder, water flowing down, her tiny bow in the middle of her back, right above her ribs, a little birthmark placed across the top of her left side, I've never seen. As she turns a little into the water I feel like I'm a damn voyeur, it feels so wrong but so good to see her like this. So much for my tricks to get my semi hard gone. "Yoon how about you just get in?" 

"Huh?" Did I hear that right she is inviting me into her shower? The tub was always pushing limits, the shower? Yeah it's running them over with a truck. Border patrol where are you when I need you. "You heard me just get in your boxers or grab basketball shorts. Instead of trying to not get soaked." 

I wanna make you soaked more than that little shower can do. No, reel yourself the fuck in Min Yoongi. 

My two options are get in my boxers with a semi hard, tell her not to turn in my direction at all the sweats are barely hiding with my hand in my pocket pulling the fabric away from my dick, let alone the fucking wet spot I gave myself is still drying. The second option is tell her no and hide behind her like every other time I washed her hair and get the fuck out as quickly as I can and relieve myself in the other bathroom. 

My mind is screaming number one. I'd be the closest I've ever been to her seeing her body up close. The lighting isn't in my favor to see her fully from this far. Option one it is. 

Lowering my voice to my raspy voice I know that gets every girl, will it affect her the same way? "Okay, but and I mean it, Violet Rose do not turn around at any point once I undress. Got it?"  She automatically straightened her posture under the water flowing over her. "Yes, Yoongi." 

"Good girl." Am I really gonna do this? I can't believe myself right now. She is mine at this moment, I'm hers. Always will be. I look down at my sweats. What am I? A teenager boy that can't control his fucking dick with his first crush? I guess she makes me resort to a fucking teenager boy who can't even control his body, I feel like I could bust and I'm not even doing anything, not even fully hard trying to suppress it as much as I can. Fuck it. 

Pulling my socks off one by one, throwing them on the floor on top of her shirt she wore to cover herself before getting in. Hooking my thumbs on the waistband of my sweats dragging them down looking down at my black Calvin Klein boxers that hit little above mid thigh. I can see the damage I did in the past to my body only the deep scars that haunt me every time I look down. 

My shirt is the last thing I would rather not remove, the deepest, most painful scar on my body. If she sees it I wouldn't know how to explain it at not yet. Jin only saw it when I got too shitfaced and he had to shower me off. I need to figure out a way and fast if she asks. 

Gulping hard as I tug on the corner of my shirt pulling it off my body, looking in the mirror I see the body I hide from everyone behind the baggy shirts. My inner upper biceps have a few deep scars from when I ran out of space. She wouldn't think this is hot let alone sexy. I may have soft abs and muscle but that doesn't make up for what's edged into my skin. Clothes really do hide how often I find myself in the gym. My chains are around my neck never taking them off, one a thin chain, and the other a little thicker layered on top of each other. They really did pick the best set of chains for me. 

"Are you coming?" She adds an emphasis on the 'ing' one more look at myself. If she sees then she sees and there's no denying my body let alone my attraction towards the women in front of me. "Patience, you need to learn patience. Do I need to teach it to you princess?" She crosses her arms over her chest. I wish I had the front view so damn bad, but that would just expose me. 

Taking one more look at myself in the mirror under this dim lighting even if she does turn around for some reason the light barely makes it to the shower, and she shouldn't be looking down at my dick for any reason.  Looking over at her under the water it's a dream I must've gone crazy, yeah that's it I'm in my utopia. It has to be the only logical situation and even that is a stretch. 

Wait, I've never showered with anyone. She also was the first girl I ever slept in bed with, something so mundane yet it's so heavy on my chest. It's different with her, everything is. This shower has more meaning to me than her probably. Granted we're both in some sort of clothing, but still. She's the first girl I let in this bubble let alone be this close to me in such a way. A thousand butterflies erupt in the pit of my stomach, this all feels too intimate, it feels so right though. 

My legs start to move on their own, her shower has a glass wall that runs half to the end and stops, the way the steam is filling the top of this whole bathroom filling my lungs like a cig. It's thick, warm, everything matches the way the smoke fills my lungs. She is giving me the euphoric feeling of the first hit, over and over. I can't get enough. To hell with cigs she is all I need. No more running from her.

As I get to the shower wall my hand touches the glass for some sort of comfort, reining in another side of myself as I see under her ribs meeting her under boob a small tattoo I wouldn't have ever seen otherwise. It is a small writing I can't make out the words, there is a koi fish in a manner that by the looks of it missing the pair.  I need a closer look, she has a tattoo and it makes me want to see if there is anymore. 

"Comin' in, Rules Vi Kay?" She nods her head and turns her body into the water facing away from me, the water running down her chest. "Got it, Yoons." My foot hitting the wet floor it's scolding hot just like how she likes her bath. "Turn the damn water down Vi." 

"Oh I forgot I'm sorry!" I see her lift her arm up and turn it to a less of a damn boiling pot of water no wonder it's so fucking steamy in here.  Stepping in closer to her there is an aroma of the vanilla body wash. It's filling my senses, she is filling my senses, everything is encompassed with her right now. 

The way her body is just lit enough to see her where I was standing before is a dark hole looking into her aura she has around her. Her hand is over her shoulder to the front of her body giving me a full look at her backside.  The tiny little bow I wish to just pull with my fingers let it loose, spin her around and see what I have been yearning for. My respect for her is way more than just what I crave. 

One step. Two steps. 

Meeting her back, my hand finding its way to run my finger down her back "You're stunning, Violet." Her shoulder blade moves after I run my fingers down her placing it on her hip.  

"You're just sayin' it Yoon." This voice is so small, weak I hit her soft spot. That's the girl I know all too well. That was too shy to say excuse me to anyone in her way. She may come off like a firecracker to everyone she knows, but to strangers she is different. "I'm not a stranger, Vi. I'm your Yoongi, Yoon, your big fish. Don't be so shy with me." Giving her hip a squeeze it's different feeling her skin, it's silky. 

"Remember you have to accept all my compliments Miss. Pineapple." Calling her that to lighten it up even though on the inside I'm losing it right now. She doesn't need to know that though.  "Thank you Mr. Pineapple." She laughs a little after saying it.  That's my girl. 

Looking down, giving myself a full on boner throbbing in my boxers, they're wet now, the outline of my dick is so prominent that even under this lighting one wrong move and she is seeing it. Deep breath, Yoongi. Tapping on her hip doing my habit of grounding, but instead of tapping my fingers to my own I tap her hip, her soft body. 

One. Two. Three. Four. Five. 

Exhaling out, looking at her hip dips the way they dip at her thighs. I want to do so many things to her.  Her ass is so perfectly round, yet has little bit of cellulite on it. It's very minimal, but it's doing things to me. I never liked the normal standards they weren’t for me. Everyone is beautiful in their own way but this woman in front of me is my type, my ecstasy.  

Violet Pov:

I can feel his hand on my hip, why did I do this to myself? It's just like with dress shopping. I can feel the tapping against my skin. It feels so good, I wanna lean into it. He can drown me for all I care, take me to hell with him.

He steps a little closer. I hear his feet hit the floor, the water splashing. What really shocks me is when his hand slides its way up, feeling like he is draining everything from within me. "Didn't know you had a tattoo." he lets out a breathy “mhm” after it. Finally letting the air out of my lungs I have been holding in since the moment the started those fucking taps on my hip.  "Y-yeah I got a few just hidden." 

He wraps both his hands around my stomach. This is the closest we have ever been in the amount of skin to skin touching. I can feel his warm chest, his cold chains, on my back.  Leaning into my shoulder that isn't getting hit directly with water. "A scavenger hunt, I like it.” he rasps. He gives me a squeeze. I feel my thighs clench in the way he talks to me. I may be wet from the shower, but other places are already soaked from him.  

Bringing his hand up to touch under my ribs where a few are. "Found two, what's my reward princess?" 

Biting on my lip, if only he could see I know he would pull my lip away from between my teeth capturing it with his own.  "Whatever you want Yoon." I know I cave every time someone puts a little bit of power on me, but with him I trust him to lead the way.  Once I hear the metal scrape along his teeth. Fuck, the sound does things to me. It's so simple, it's like damn asmr hitting all the right spots. 

"I wanna know the story, wanna see it up close." He squeezes a little, along with a tap from every finger the end of his middle finger is right at the side of my boob. I just want him to grab it, make me his. It's not my choice though. 

Push and pull that's what we do. Always have. 

"Okay." Lifting my arm up, closing my eyes I said I won't look at him so I won't.  "My eyes are closed promise, turning so you can see." As I start to turn, his hand falling off my side, steps back a little, hearing his feet hit the floor, losing his warmth. All I want is his warmth running through my veins, his hands on my body.

My arm is straight up and down so he can see the full tattoo, I feel his hand wrap around my forearm pulling it down and he places it on his shoulder. I feel his skin, his soft skin under the palm of my hand. It's not a fantasy anymore, it's a need. "Lean on me Vi, no need to hold your arm up." 

He leans down a little, feeling my arm slightly going down. "I live so I love." He reads it out loud, finger tracing it sending shocks down my body.  

"Y-yeah I choose to live so I can love." 

"That's beautiful, Vi" the pad of his tub rubs side to side on my tattoo. "Why the koi?" 

My koi fish is a white koi with black spots on it with the one on his head being a heart.  Thinking of why I fell in love with the small sketch I saw Jk drawing asking why koi and he explained the meaning behind them. It's friendship more than just banana milk, funny enough.  He tattooed it on me, learned from his tattoo artist, and wishes his dad would accept it as a job. He knows he never would, so he pushes it down and just says 'Don't know what I wanna do yet.' I hope he gets the courage one day to stand up to him and show him his work.  Not even a week later I was in a chair and Jk etching the koi into my skin forever.  

"Cause the Koi represents love. Affection. It's the only reason why I'm still on this earth, Yoon. So if I choose to live then I can love, the only thing that makes me feel alive.  As for the Koi there is a matching one on the original sketch. It's a black one with a white heart instead. I choose the lighter one since I need a little bitterness in my life to balance me out. They hold my black koi fi-" 

As I'm about to finish my sentence he grabs my arm and spins me around to face him. I know if I open my eyes I'm going to be looking at him. I'm a coward, I can't. The water rushing down my back, I didn't even notice my back being cold with him behind me. He taps on my chin "Open your eyes, Violet." he says with the softest voice.  Shaking my head no, I can't if I look at him like this I might lose it. Once I open my eyes, if he disappears like he does when I open my eyes from my own escape, my dreams. "No, cause if I open them you'll disappear. Like you always do." 

I hear his foot hit the floor with a splash stepping closer. "Since when do I disappear? Mhm tell me, baby." He moves his hand to my cheek rubbing up and down. "In my dreams." Taking his hand away from my face taking a deep breath, so warm on me. We're so close I didn't even realize. 

"Hold your pinky up." He says it in such a deep rasp, it makes me melt. The butterflies erupt over and over since I heard his first foot step into the shower.  Shakily holding up my pinky I feel his lock with mine. Hearing his lips press against his thumb placing a kiss on his thumb. "I'm gonna count to three and when you open, I'm gonna be here. We're gonna seal the promise. Gotta kiss it, remember?"  

Nodding my head, I can't say anything. Words, what are they? Never heard of them.  

One. Two. Three. 

As I open my eyes he is staring at me with the most intense, deep, breathtaking, lustful eyes I've ever seen. I can't even take into account this is the first time I have ever seen him shirtless. "Gotta kiss it, Vi." Leaning into it to kiss my thumb, as I seal it with a kiss I can't seem to take my eyes off him.  

The way his chest is sculpted, his pecks jut out a little bit, his chest bone caving in a little bit. His collar bones are so prominent, the two chains resting on his chest layered. My necklace is on him, in my shower in front of me.  He leans his thumb in I see it from my peripheral vision shaking my head and blinking. "Sorry." pressing our thumbs together. 

"Pinky" 

"Swear" 

"See, was that so hard princess?" Nodding my head at him, unable to take my eyes off of him.  I see scars on his arms. Wait, he has done it too just like me? Maybe we're both just scared people trying to find our healer, to take it all away. "Y-you." Pointing at one of his scars on his bicep. "Mhm I've been there. I know your pain princess."

"You let me look." My voice comes off as a whisper. "I knew there was no holding back as soon as you asked me to get in with you."  He gives me a true smile. One that I know is reserved only for me. I can't help but think "He's so handsome." Oh fuck did I say that out loud? No. No. No. 

"Oh yeah? You think I'm handsome? Miss pink cheeks." Reaching to poke at my cheeks and I pull his hand down before he can lock it with mine. "No it's just from the hot shower, but you are handsome Yoon. So fucking handsome." The last three words come out as a whisper. 

He takes a step as he does I step back. "Thought we said no more runnin'." He takes another step his knee is between my legs so close, so fucking close. 

Leaning in closer next to my ear he whispers "Don't worry I'll always catch you." Giving my hand a tight squeeze. The way he said it makes me clench not only my thighs but feels like my whole body. "So reactive." The metal scraping against his teeth, sending chills through my body in this hot shower.  He lets go of my hand placing his hand on my hip turning me to lean on the glass wall, the water is running in between us. 

The first time he's been actually under the water his blonde hair drips into his face, pushing it back tilting his head into the water. The way his neck is adorned with the chain I bought him, his adam's apple is so defined when he moves his neck in this direction.  As he leans back, his eyes roll back in his head, chest rising taking a deep breath, exhaling it out "Fuck, Vi." 

"What Yoon?" Taking another breath, running his hand through his hair one more time. As he lifts his head back down his eyes slowly open locking with mine, they're so intense. He looks down for the first time at my front view, trying to hide my stomach and body with my hands, he pulls them away. "No, let me see Vi. You're gorgeous."  

He licks his lips slowly as he sinks in my body, consuming me.  "And I thought I was an ass man, you might just convert me." He reaches above him, turning the water head away from us, stepping closer, caging me in his arms. Looking into my eyes with the most serious face I've seen, but there is something more to his look. Lust? His eyes have never looked like this to like he wants to consume every inch of my body.  "I need a fix Violet."

"There's no pineapple here." I let out a breathy laugh. 

"You are my pineapple." His voice comes out confident, deep.   

Not wasting any time he leans in, pressing his lips to mine, letting out a low groan deep in his throat. I feel chills all over my body from no longer having the water running over us, but he is filling me with his warmth. His body is like a heater warning me from within myself.  

Our lips are moving in sync, but I feel like I can barely keep up with him. The slight roughness to his lips makes me want to kiss him forever to make his lips so soft that he won't ever need chapstick again. I'll be his chapstick. His hands, finding their way to my hip and upper rib cage giving me a squeeze that's so tight he takes the little air left that's in my lungs. I let out a moan that sounds more of a whimper. 

"Fuck I think I just found a new fetish Vi. Your moans from my touch." Digging his fingertips into my skin, making me lean my head back letting out a small moan, for him. "Yoon." 

"Yes, baby?" 

My head is spinning, my body is throbbing with senses I haven't felt in forever. Meeting his eyes they are hooded filled with hunger. "You've never heard my moans so how would you know the difference between your touch and another." He leans in, pressing his knee making my thighs part he settles into my personal bubble that's all his for the taking. He leans into my ear whispering "Who says I haven't heard you when you're in your bed pleasing yourself baby, bet you have a toy don't you. You're not as quiet as you think." He bites down on my neck, I'm pulsing through my entire body but specifically in one area. "I bet it's pink."  Pressing his knee into my pussy harshly rubbing, this time I didn't even have to do anything he was doing it. 

Taking the air out of my lungs letting the moan rip through my airway. "Yoongi." 

"Oh someone likes my knee, why don't you make yourself cum pretty. I know you want to." I can feel my rib cage moving like a jackhammer up and down, every bone in my body is craving for a release. I have been too focused on me and when everything starts to sink in. He is in my shower only in boxers between my legs telling me to cum for him. No this is a dream, it's one of my fantasies. Yeah that's it.  

Feeling a tap under my chin, not even realizing I have been staring into his chest letting my mind consume me with him.  "You good Vi?"

Nodding my head, lifting my hand, gesturing my index finger back and forth "This is a dream." 

"Oh yeah?" He grabs my hand, pulls it down and I feel his- no I can't be. "Is this in your dreams baby?" His boxers are tight, so fucking tight. I can feel how big he is, how thick he is. He's definitely the biggest I have touched yet I haven't even seen it.

Biting on my bottom lip looking down at his slim waist, the outline of his abs prominent. Since when did he have abs? The thick waistband of his boxers engraved with 'Calvin Klein'. My hand is small compared to his bulge, there is an outline of his head coming from on top of my hand. Everything in me wants to feel him for all that he's worth, make him feel like he has ascended to heaven. I'm not confident enough in my body let alone my actions. "You're the leading role in my dreams Yoon." Looking up at him, giving me a small squeeze, rubbing my thumb up and down. I feel a vein, he pulses a little from my touch. I can't believe I can make him feel like this the way he is reacting. 

"Violet if you don't stop, I won't be able to hold back." his voice comes out thick and husky. 

"But what if we make each other feel good, Yoon?"

He leans down, locking our lips. It's a quick, but lingering kiss. "You already make feel so fucking good Vi." His hand sliding down my wet body with his fingertips pulling at the top of my bottoms, going in for another kiss it's filled with neediness. "This won't do." He mumbles against my lips, one hand letting go of my body he turns off the water. "Vi when I count to three you're gonna jump."

"Hell no." My automatic response. He can't carry me there is no way in hell he can. I'm fat, it would just embarrass me. I would crawl into a hole and never come out for the rest of my life. He taps on my chin. "I didn't ask." he says sternly. 

Taking a step back he pulls me with him. My hands find their way now to my sides as he pulls me. It isn't long until I feel his hands on my upper thighs by my ass "Fuck." it comes out under his breath, it's raspy. It's my new favorite thing. He starts to count off. 

"One"

"No you-"

"Two" digging the pads of his fingers in my skin. 

"Can't"

"Jump" 

He doesn't even give me time and he is pulling up on my ass practically making me accept and jump.  My heart is racing a million miles a second. "Yoongi!" Turning to take us out of the shower, he is squeezing so hard on my thighs. How is he carrying me? "How about you get the door baby. My hands are a little full."  He kicks the door with his foot. Unwrapping one of my hands leaning down as soon as I unlatch the door his foot is kicking it open hearing loud thud it hitting the wall. "You hurt my wall, you're payin." 

"I'll do more than hurt your wall baby, looks like I'm buying the place." 

Where did this Yoongi come from? It's thrilling. Exciting. I want to see more. He sits us on the small couch in my room, the curtains are drawn, the window cracked, and I'm on top of my childhood crush.  My thighs are on either side of him looking down. I see how I encompass him. "I-I should get off." 

"You're not going anywhere until you cum, wanna make you feel good." He has his hands on my upper thighs and in one of my most insecure places is the place where my thighs meet my hips. 

"But-"

"But what?"

"The w-window."I stutter out. 

"Good they'll get to see how fucking good I make you feel." 

He's dirty, so dirty. I never expected this from him. He never showed any side like this to me, but I guess I would have never experienced anything close to this as friends. He pulls on me, making me move back and forth, I can feel myself pulse wanting more. 

It's not my hand anymore, but my most private area on his length. He's getting hard with each stroke. So he wasn't even fully hard yet? I'm done for.  His underwear and my suit bottom rubbing back and forth together a jolt of pleasure making me moan. I need to feel something. "Yoongi, kiss me." He doesn't waste a second letting one of his hands pull on my lower back making me fall into his chest locking our lips. 

His hands making their way to my ass. "Fuck this ass." He says into my mouth pulling me in for more by biting on my bottom lip. He sets the pace with his hands, moaning into his mouth. I’m unable to keep kissing him, it's all too much. The ache in my clit wanting more. More. I feel so needy, like somebody who hasn't came in months. Yet I get myself off daily. "That's it Vi. Use me get yourself off baby." His voice is like no other I want to record for my ‘me time’. 

Yoongi is a man of silent actions. I know this, everyone does if they pay attention long enough. But right now this isn't silent, his raspy, deep voice is consuming me. "You're doing so good, baby. I bet your little pussy wants to be filled." He really is after me isn't he? 

"Yoongi," moaning out his name into his neck. 

"Tell them how good I'm making you feel." He slaps my ass, it makes me jolt forward, I can even feel the point of where his head starts and ends to his length. Fuck what is with these underwear. Unable to hold anything in, I'm constantly moaning into his neck,  gripping onto him for dear life.  

It all happens so fast, the build up in my stomach, pulsing around nothing adding more to my aching clit wanting release.  The feeling of him is taking me to my own heaven like in my dreams. I'm so consumed by him that I don't even realize I'm cumming until I start to shake on him, warmth filling my face, saying his name over and over. 

He is still pushing back and forth, adding more overstimulation adding to the  mess than I already am.  "Yoon." it comes out as a whimper, a cry for more. For him. He groans, after one more grind he cums with the most earth shattering deep, raspy moan. "Violet." squeezing my ass as I'm sprawled out over him. His head is leaned back on the top of the couch, eyes closed, leaning up off his chest I tap on his chin making him look up at me. "Mhm" his lips part and the metal scrapes across his teeth. 

Leaning down and locking our lips, as I do he just groans into the kiss squeezing my ass. We move in sync, both breathless but can't stop. When we finally do pull away sliding my thighs to rest more on his knees I look down and see the wet boxers filled with his cum, he isn't embarrassed or anything, just smirks and looks at me "Didn't think I'd cum in my pants ever again." 

Looking at him confused. "Again?"

"I was a teen boy once. Secrets baby, now let's go wash that hair of yours" he taps on my knees. "Go heat it up, I'll be in there in a sec." Nodding my head in and pecking his lips one more time before getting up my legs feels like jelly, wobbly as I make my way to the bathroom.

Yoongi Pov: 

Slinging my head back against the top of the couch once I hear the water cut on. When was the last time I enjoyed any sexual interaction with a woman, a long fucking time. Yeah I may get off but not like this. I came in my damn underwear like I did when I was a horny teen boy the moment they see any part of a woman. Call me pathetic but she felt so fucking good. I didn't even get the pleasure of seeing her whole body with my own eyes, but every millisecond I was mapping her body. She is the map of my whole fucking world.  

"Fucking shit." The way her eyes rolled back when she let go, biting her bottom lip chanting my name over and over like it was the only word she knew. My semi hard could become hard as rock thinking about it again. I'm not a one round typa guy maybe- No Yoongi rein yourself in, aftercare she is the top priority. "You in the shower baby?" Yelling to her. 

"Mhm yes!" her voice coming out feathery. I need to get outta these boxers if I'm gonna be in the shower with her again. Standing up feels like a chore. My legs are tense, my left ass cheeks twitching from the high. Walking over to her dresser the bottom drawer is mine, grabbing a new pair of black underwear, throwing it on the bed. Knocking three times on the door that's wide open, can't let habit break now can we? "You don't gotta knock Yoon." She lets out a little laugh that sounds like an angel, my own hell's angel. 

"I'ma get new underwear, you need new bottoms so you can clean up?" 

"Top drawer can you grab a pair of panties since every other suit is a one piece." I can practically hear the smile on her face. The top drawer? The drawer I'm not allowed in. I'll gladly take a peek. "Top drawer? Huh?" a smirk takes place on my lips. 

"No looking to the right!" 

"Okay, Okay  Vi. I'll be back." I let out a deep laugh, walking out staring at the handle I have never gotten to pull open, the one that's been taunting me. As I slowly pull it open I see so many colorful underwear. 

Fucking purple. 

Guess this is one of the only colorful pieces of clothing she wears, and I'm more than okay with it. My brain will be now filled with what color she is wearing that day. Picking out a dark purple pair, just one peek. Pulling back a few pairs of  the bright colored underwear I see her little friend. 

It's pink I fucking knew it. 

I smirk thinking about it dipping into her pretty pink pussy that I haven't even seen, the way her head would fall back as she cums, her pillow catching her now will be me catching her. Putting her panties back over her there must be more cause there is space cleared out, she didn't pack this one. Guess she can't hold back from her own mind for less than forty eight hours. Huh. That's fucking hot, was she gonna do when I'm away from her? Sneak into the shower. My mind is running laps thinking about her self indulging. 

Walking into the bathroom covering my eyes "Here baby I'm setting them here take those off and clean down there first before putting them on. You better not clean any other part that's my job." from what I can guess, she nods letting out a little hum, I grab a washcloth from under the sink, turn on the sink wetting it a little, stepping out of the bathroom shutting the door to give her privacy.  

Ridding myself of my own self, throwing my cum filled underwear in the laundry basket, wiping myself down with the cloth, and putting on new underwear.  I take out clothes for both of us after the shower, she is getting my big black t-shirt and some light blue panties. What about pants? Nope I have seen it now I'll witness it whenever I want.  As for me I take out a black sweat shirt and some back joggers, and another pair of underwear. Setting both on that sinful couch.

Walking to the door knocking three times "Can I come in?" 

"Yeah!" she radiates happiness in her voice. 

As I walk in it's still so steamy it fills my lungs, warm and thick air. The weight of what I just did hits me like a ton of bricks. Did I go too far? Did I make her feel like she had to? My steps are heavy walking to the shower rounding the glass wall, my feet making a splash.  She turns around and faces me now In those dark purple panties, stepping forward closer to her resting my hands on her hips needing some kind of touch to comfort me. Tapping my fingers one by one on her skin. "Did I go too far? Did I push you? Make you feel like you had to?" 

"Woah woah Yoon." She places her hand on my cheek. 

"You didn't do anything of the sort. I wanted it, god I wanted it so bad. I have dreamed of you for so long." her voice comes off softly reassuring me 

"Promise?" my bottom lip juts out a little as I pull my skin from my lip. This time I'm the one asking for some sort of promise, for relief to know I didn't make her feel any kind of way besides pleasure.  She removes her hand holding out her pinky, nodding her head at it. I only remove one hand I need to feel her to keep me grounded. Latching my pinky with hers she places a kiss first on her thumb and as I lean in closing my eyes to kiss mine as soon as my lips hit my thumbs her lips hit my forehead. 

Looking up at her, she smiles pressing our thumbs together sealing our promise. 

"Pinky"

"Swear" 

"God you're perfect Violet." She shakes her head no, squeezing her hip with all my grip she lets out a moan. "Say it. Say you're perfect. The deal, Violet."

"I-I'm perfect." she stutters out. Pulling her closer to me away from the shower running over her, leaning down pecking her lips. "Good girl, such a good girl." Whispering over her lips. Locking our lips one more time biting on her lip she lets out a moan. I don't think I can get enough. She will consume me if she stays. I know it, she already has. 

"Now let's wash that hair of yours Miss." 

She turns around in my arms, looking down I see her ass, I see my hand prints on her cheeks. Cheeky panties, good pick Yoongi. I smirk. I want my hand printed embedded all over her ass forever. Once they fade they need to be placed right back. She is mine. I'm possessive.

I reach and get a pump of her shampoo "lean your head back baby." my voice comes off softly to her. She leans her head back and I start to massage her head, releasing any pressure that might be occupying her. She lets out a satisfying hum. "You're hands are magic" 

"You haven't even seen what all they can do baby" Letting it out a deep, raspy voice.  She'll need to get used to it. Yoongi and Sir are two different people. "I think I'll die."

"But aren't we already in hell together?" I run my tongue ring across my teeth. 

"Mhm you're right." 

Looking around if I'm gonna have to turn her around to wash this, looking to the right she still keeps a fucking cup. "You still keep a cup." I say shocked, but also amused she would still keep it after it being so long. 

"Never know when you are gonna pop in again daddy." she laughs. She did not just pull that card right now. I can't take it my dick is hardening, by just the first letter of that word.  I reach down and get the cup, filling it with water letting it run down her hair. I'm not gonna give her a reaction, not yet at least. Conditioning her hair, lathering it up making it all nice and silky. 

"All done, turn around baby." She slowly turns our eyes meeting as she opens them. "Thank you Yoon." Pulling her into my chest reaching down grabbing a pump of the body wash mhm vanilla, her vanilla. I start to rub the body wash all over her back, rubbing my thumbs into any knots I find, sliding my hands down to her ass, leaning into her ear. "I thought I was daddy. Sweets." Smacking her ass hard. Leaving my mark. 

"Mhm Daddy." her voice sounds like honey so sweet and sticky, sticky to all parts of me surrounding me. "That's it baby." Daddy kink girls are for me. She is for me and I'll be her daddy, her Sir, anything she wants from me. "Give Daddy his fix." letting out a low groan afterwards tapping on her chin. "Please?" Oh my god she will be the end of me, sliding my tongue ring across my teeth I never submit let alone say please, but her. She is changing me. 

Gripping her ass pulling her up "Please for daddy." 

She doesn't waste a second and locks our lips, moving in sync together. She is the needy one this time I'm trying to keep up with her. Her tongue asks for access to my mouth, I allow it. I feel her tongue run across my tongue ring right after she lets out a small whimper into my mouth. Today is something I would have never imagined let alone even where we are today this past few weeks. To know I'm gonna be away from her for months I have now idea how I'm gonna make it.

Savoring the way her lips feel on mine, her body leaning into me, pulling away she lets out an angry whine. Fuck. 

"Oh is someone angy?" She nods her head. 

"Well that won't do." Going for her neck, attaching my lips, sucking, biting. Leaving my mark on her, she moans my name out.  I think I just found my ultimate kink her moaning my name under my touch, the way she reacts to me. I haven’t ever done any sexual act for someone I like let alone love. Call me a fuck boy I'll admit to it gladly, but with her it's different. She's the girl that fills my mind, made my utopia homey, got me through the darkest times of my life without even knowing.  She is and will be the only girl that will do this for me. 

Even if this does not work out she holds that spot, always will but I'll go to hell and back before I let this go. Letting her go I look at the work of art I made on her. I smirk Admiring the purple and blue mark on her neck with my teeth mark indented into her perfect skin. "You're mine now."

"If you're mine also." We are both just two people wanting someone to call theirs. "I have always been yours, Violet from the day I was born. I waited for you, to meet you even if you weren't even on this earth yet our souls are connected."  Pressing a kiss on her forehead.  "It was empty until I met you." 

Like a red string attached to us pulling us to meet and when we finally met the world lit up with fireworks, colliding our worlds. "Now let's go enjoy our night. Go on love, your clothes are on the bed waiting." I tap on her ass letting her go. "Okay I'll yell when I'm changed." 

"You better." She laughs, stepping around me grabbing a towel off the rack, wrapping it around her body, opening the door, walking out, shutting it so I can clean myself up fully. 

What the fuck just happened, I can't wrap my brain around it. The water now cold running over my body as I wash my body. I don't wanna rid myself of her. I want her on me forever, scared once she is gone I'll never have her on me again. I can't get wrapped up in my intrusive thoughts. It will happen again, it has to. Right?

Thank you for reading. ₊˚⊹♡

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All rights belong to @/Yoon-Topias. Do not copy/ translate.

[jeankirsteinsgrlfrnd]

pairing: jean kirstein x f!reader

content warnings: none really for this chapter, mentions of anxiety & depression

word count: 2.5k

find chapters 1-3 RIGHT HERE on: wattpad

summary of book: Jean Kirstein has no interest in girls. He'd tried dating and found himself often bored before the end of the evening. Competing for captain of The University of Trost's lacrosse team, there is no shortage of women available to him but he'd rather be on the field. Unfortunately for him, it's the off season. (Y/N), however, found herself feigning ignorance about her desire to love deeply and be loved even deeper. After her first day at college, her hopes for the school year diminished greatly until she grew to know Jean.

summary of chapter: It’s (Y/N)’s first day at the University of Trost. Having gone through most of highschool keeping to herself, she suspects that college will be just the same. However, she runs into an old friend and discovers that college may not be as easy to avoid people in. (Y/N) begins to suspect she’s going to have a long year at college, thanks to her picking what would be the worst seat in psych class.

note: this is going to be a slow burn with many chapters, i am hoping for at least 30. although this is a jean fic, i will be potentially exploring a connie plot line. this story will contain topics of mental health/illnesses, suicide/death, grief, violence, drugs & alcohol, sex and other sensitive subjects. i will do my best to give you a warning ahead of time.

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of lilacs & lacrosse

chapter 1.) first day

 I'd say the funny thing is that I'd say I'd never given too much thought about how I'd fall in love, but that would be too much of an easy lie to spot. Love was all around me. It was in the movies, the songs, it was on the train and in the grocery store. I was frustrated when it didn't come to me in highschool, when a mysterious, pale man hadn't approached me, like the media had taught me. Where was my love and was it worth the wait?

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I've known these people since middle school, of course not every single one of them, but the ones that mattered, I'd known them. Hell, I'd even been friends with them at some point. Why was it so hard now? Was it the fear of saying something silly or more simply, the fear of being less than enough? More than enough?

These thoughts kept me up the entire night before the first day of college. I'd woken up in sweats, in screams even. I told myself, college would be no different than highschool and I'd be alright.

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Beep, beep, beep.

That's it, it's time.

I yawn, my ears pissed off from hearing the never relenting alarm of my phone. Panic filled me.

Why?

I've been settled into my dorm for quite some time, it was nothing special but nothing to be ashamed of either. I pull the blankets off of me and swing my legs over the edge of my bed, which seemed to not want to let go of me, but very well could have been my own reluctance wanting to keep me in place. My bare feet hit the ground and I inhale.

It's just an 8 a/m class, (y/n). Just an 8 a/m. No matter the first day or not.

I tiptoe across the cold, hardwood floor. Opening my closet, I'm surprised at the lack of options for my first day of college, even though I was the one who had done the lack of college shopping. I wasn't going to complain, I'm not the type of person who cared so much about clothing and having the newest things. I was okay wearing clothes from highschool. It's not like anybody would actually notice. A simple outfit would do for the day. A black t-shirt, a pair of ripped jeans, and nothing more, except for a hair tie to keep half of my mess up. And shoes, of course shoes. My black and white converse sat on the floor, under my massive collection of black clothes. Pick me, they called. I grab my sneakers and bundle my clothes under my arm, shutting the closet doors behind me. I slip my choices over me and look in my bedroom mirror. Smoothing out non-existent wrinkles, I can't help but let my mind think. My eyes meet my own.

Was I afraid? Was I confident? Would anyone else be able to tell?

Stop it, (y/n.) You'll get nowhere, I tell myself abruptly.

My clothes are satisfactory enough. There is nobody I need to impress today and I'm okay with that. I'm not looking to make friends, just looking to make it through one class. I look at myself in the mirror, tugging my hands over places I'd hope nobody would look at. My steps to the bathroom are as sad as I'd imagined they'd be last night, trying not to make any sound although I'm the only one who could hear. Makeup bags sit on the white bathroom sink with various beauty products strewn about. I grab my go-to bag and unzip. My fingers fumble in the makeup bag on the counter. Mascara, foundation, eyebrows, lip gloss.

What if they don't like you?

Mascara, foundation, eyebrows, lip gloss.

Who's they, (y/n)? You don't actually really know anybody. Besides, I thought you weren't looking to impress anybody and you were just fine with that.

Mascara, foundation, eyebrows, lip gloss.

My hands tremble with the mascara wand.

"Fuck, shit." My lips part before I know. Dots of black cloud my eyes. In the mirror, I frown. I bite my lip, I'd already fucked up with nobody around. I feel a growing black cloud in my brain.

No big deal, (y/n). Clean it up, it's alright.

I grab a q-tip, quickly turn on the faucet and wet it under the water. I begin to blur away my mistakes. I bring the q-tip up to my face, relentlessly poking at the lingering black marks upon my face.

Go away, go away, I'll be late, I plead.

Eventually, the gods oblige to my demands. My eyelashes, and myself, are happy. My fingers find themselves once again fumbling in my makeup bag for a probably expired foundation. Even though I don't remember the last time I had actually gone and bought foundation, I don't have the heart to check the date, but there's no way I'm going to my classes on the first day without any face makeup. I pour a bit of my foundation on the back of my hand to warm it up before applying it straight to my face. I dip my beauty blender into the cream and bring it to my face. I'm staring straight into the mirror.

Who is this? It's me, idiot. It's always been me. Stop thinking.

I tune out the rest of my thoughts before I finish my foundation. I place the container back into my bag, and dig around for my eyebrow brush. Not like I actually do anything to my eyebrows, but somehow brushing them out creates a false sense of security.

Brush your eyebrows, (y/n), nothing bad will happen today. Oh please, brush your eyebrows (y/n), you've saved the world from eternal damnation.

My eyebrows are clean, sleek, and saving the world from an intergalactic attack. Eyebrow brush back in the bag, I search for my lip gloss. It was nearly a clear, transparent lip gloss but hey if it made my lips shiny, someone was bound to notice, right?

Right.

I'm looking in the mirror, I'm satisfied. My lip gloss is good and the shade of black my shirt is, well, black. No time to reflect on that. I head out of my bathroom, which I am grateful for the fact there's nobody to share it with. I'd somehow gotten lucky finding a cheap apartment I could afford without having a roommate and didn't have to settle for a college dormitory. This, however, did have its downsides. The place is quiet and I find myself staring. My kitchen is missing a sense of home. I shake away the fact and think about what I want for breakfast.

Pancakes? Eggs? Both? Nothing? Oatmeal?

There's no use. I hate the kitchen. I don't want to make anything for myself. I don't want to use any of my good, hard earned money for breakfast. I grab my black Jansport backpack that I purposely left on the counter last night. I would have forgotten it if I left it in my room but I can always count on myself to have a good old fashioned kitchen crisis. I stand in my kitchen, looking around.

I hate this.

I grit my teeth, unsure of how to be a person without anybody else around me. I made the heavy decision that heading out the front door is best for me. My steps to the door are heavy, unchanging and solid. I shut the door to my apartment. The hallway is cold and unforgiving of crimes I've never committed.

I'm sorry, college apartment, I'll never do it again.

Another thing I had gotten extremely lucky with regarding my apartment, was that I could walk to the campus in under ten minutes, five if I decide to really put some pep in my step. Outside my building, the leaves are still green and wanting to hold onto the summer. I stand under the overhang and pull out my phone from my pocket.. The weather app tells me it's 79 degrees, which is typical for the beginning of September in Trost. Maybe even a bit cooler. I pull some earbuds out of the mesh bindings on the side of my backpack. Untangling them is a challenge but the bigger challenge is deciding what to listen to.

[play: To All Of You- Syd Matters]

The campus is bigger than I expected. Maybe it would have been smart to have come by earlier and taken a look. The main building looks like a museum, it's built of brick and there are students everywhere I look. Most people are smiling and walking with a friend. I take everything in as I walk. There's a girl with purple hair sitting at a green metal picnic table, the kind that had holes and people would get their fingers stuck in. Her fingers are free as she dances a pencil across a black notebook. The leaves are blowing and I try not to think about the fact that nobody else is thinking about me. The grass is very green and for that, I am thankful. Nothing is dead. My steps are silent to me as I near the entrance. A boy walks in before me. He is wearing a black sweatshirt with the number nine in white on it. I cannot see his face and he doesn't look back to see mine. He does not hold the door for me. Upon reaching the door, I am cruelly reminded that nobody waits for you. I am alone. The door handle is cold in my grasp. My first and only class today is psychology, because who doesn't love their brain being fucked with at 8 am?

Nostalgia hits my nose when I step inside. It's cooler than it was outside and the lockers are blue. The floor is tiled and white with gray specks underneath my black shoes. Students are leaning against lockers, some people are completely frozen in time and others are bustling. I scurry to the side of the hallway to stay out of the way. I pull my phone out and look at my lock screen that I had previously set to a screenshot of an email reminder from my teacher. My psych class was on the first floor in one of the lecture halls. The time at the top of my phone reads 7:50. I put it back in my pocket and make my way down the hallway. I am able to find the room quite easily.

Nobody stands out to me as I pass through the doorway. It seems to be mostly carbon copies of the same brainless girls who would spew about how they'd change the world with their non-existing compassion. My eyes flicker across the room, trying to find a spot that would be the least painful to sit in. I don't want to sit completely alone in the back but I don't want to sit directly next to anybody either. I found a seat in the somewhat crowded room. It was towards the back but closer to the middle section and it was an aisle seat, closest to the wall with nobody occupying the seat next to it. A girl with brown hair sat just next to the empty seat. I wonder if she made the same game plan as me. I walk up the steps to my seat and sit. Quickly, I turn my head, wanting to see who is sitting with me. I can't see her face. Her head is tilted down and her phone is resting on the desk. She is focused on whatever it is she's doing. I turn my head back and take my headphones out of my ears then unplug them from my phone. 7:59. The professor was not here yet.

"Y/n?"

My head instinctively whips to the right, completely startled. My eyes zooming across the features of the person who called my name.

God, who knows me here? And who was it that remembers me?

Her skin is sun-kissed tan, or maybe it was natural. Blurts of freckles were clinging to her slim cheeks and small, pointy nose. Her hair is brown and brushed out of her face into a ponytail, a few pieces escaping the clutch of the loose hair tie. Eyelashes dark and the bags under them too. I have to peel my eyes away from her face. She's wearing a baggy black shirt and jean shorts. My eyes travel back upwards to look at hers. That's when I recognized her.

"Oh my god, Ymir?" She smiles and tilts her head at me.

"It only took you about, hm..." She looks down at an invisible watch on her wrist. "Thirty minutes."

Ymir and I were friends when we were younger. Actually, we were really close. She was even my first kiss. We used to be inseparable but I grew up and she grew mean. It was when highschool came around that I began to hate being around. She was just cruel to me, to herself, and to others. It was draining to even just exist in her cesspool of hate. Ymir could be sweet when she had wanted to be but it was rare to receive any love or support. However, when she loved me, she really loved me. She'd hold me so tight I was afraid I'd shatter but without her arms around me, I'd have shattered anyway. It was sophomore year when she had met a girl. Meeting Historia was the complete end of us. We weren't in love or anything simple of the sort, but it would have been nice of her to think about me first, or think of me at all.

"I'm so sorry, you surprised me, that's all." I hope my eyes aren't as wide as I think they are. A smirk still lingers on her face. She really was beautiful even after all these years. Ymir put her arms behind her head and stretched a bit. There was a tattoo of a triangle right above the inside of her elbow. I wonder what that meant.

Was it just a triangle? Maybe she had a matching one with Historia. Side note, I completely forgot her and I have matching shitty tattoos, just little stars by our ankles. We'd always wanted to go to a shop together to get professional ones but Ymir's garage was as classy as it got.

"How've you been?"

"Ah, (y/n.) I knew you'd be here, I bet your brainy ass is already psycho-analyzing me." She put her arms on the table in front of us.

Would she ever stop smiling?

"Why are you here? And I've been good, thanks for asking." I don't know if I'm making a playful joke or being snarky.

"I wouldn't mind learning a few tricks to get into people's heads. Besides, this class looked the most entertaining and you're here, so it must be my lucky day." She slides into the seat next to me. She leaned in close to me. "Are you wearing makeup?" This was going to be the longest class of my life.

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[didnt-hear-cold-as-you-live]

so I haven't really found the words to talk about this yet but I'm finally starting to, so here goes -

I'm finding myself with a very minimal, fringe sort of scattered friends in this town. at best I don't fit in with, nor do I have the desire to fit in with, really, any of the travelers or backpackers or working holiday visa people who inhabit this place (btw; anon who warned me not to go here.... 'bogan' isn't what I'd call it but your read on the vibe was right); at worst I'm finding myself on the borderline of being straight up bullied the way I was in high school - no one outright saying mean things to my face, but that very high school esque cocktail of snarky and condescending side comments, people always going off to talk without me, laughing, and stopping laughing immediately once they're back near me, being rude enough to know it's rude but just the right balance where if I say something about it I'm the one who looks weird. how isolating that is and how it pushes you down and down and down and down inside your head. I think as an adult, once you grow up and find yourself out in the world, and get to choose the people you're around, you forget what that was like. Working in the music industry specifically and knowing only one soul in real life with a "regular" job (hi Jo), I've completely forget what that's like. In the spirit of "emotional maturity", I've probably found a way to tell myself it's all kid shit and I made it seem worse than it all was, etc, and maybe it's just people being people.

Maybe that's true.

Specifically, though, the thing I've found myself being harassed over, the main tension point, is my music taste. I've been put into this twilight zone of a reality where everyone around me straight up hates Taylor Swift (in the year 2023 I genuinely didn't think that existed more than a few fringe rondo's, but apparently all those fringe rondo's live in this town), and the ones who don't say "fuck this bitch" out loud every time her music comes on, are, at their warmest, completely indifferent to the fact that she's even alive. I haven't met one person here who would even say they enjoy 1989 or whatever. I work around 20-25 y/o's mostly, and yet I put on Lorde and Maisie and Sabrina and Backseat Lovers and The 1975 and all the pop stuff I'm aware myself and that age group really like (with a bunch of famous Aussie artists thrown in), and I'm asked if we can stop with all the "weird music" and "play things everyone knows and likes" - another twilight zone thing because I had no fucking idea every girl ever wasn't on this type of pop. I put on classic throwback Fall Out Boy and All Time Low and Paramore or even Halsey's hit songs and I'm asked why everything I listen to is "so depressing". I get fully HARASSED about my music taste by the people I work with every single day. like, multiple times an hour snide comments about "weird people music" and shit like that when I really thought my taste was pretty mainstream. then they all put on either like, the most generic of generic Top 40 radio that I didn't even realize people willingly put on; just thought big labels decided it was gonna be successful so shoved it onto commercials and radio and a bunch of Spotify playlists until they gave up, OR music that I literally would need to be borderline overdosing on cocaine to enjoy - I'm talking blasting dubstep club beats and the like... at 5:30am in a coffee shop. And I haven’t said a word to them about it or been mean about it at all, and I try really hard to be polite to them but it just doesn’t matter how nice I am; they feast on me like a pack of hungry lions anyway. I moved here to be outside, and people only ever want to go to the club. Even people I get along with want to go to the damn club every other night at the least, and I’m weird for not wanting to be anywhere near something other than a bar we can have some drinks and laughs - I didn’t even know people still went to clubs, especially not vagabond travelers in an eco tourism hotspot.

And suddenly I am my high school self all over again; feeling completely fucking normal but not falling in, not able to make myself fit no matter how hard I try. I talk to people and people laugh at what I say when we have to make conversation, because, well. I'm fucking likable and I can chat up anybody. and then, for no real reason, 20 minutes later they remember they're supposed to be bullying me and go back to it. just like how it was for me in high school, where I won the “most talkative” superlative and yet when I walked on stage to graduate half the class shouted at me that I was “scum” (lol).

So anyway. That's all to say, I photographed full-band live music last night for the first time in 3 months. And suddenly, doing that, too, I was back in high school. Living in a normal world that everyone else is at and is aware of, but in my own secret pocket of it I've carved out: a pocket where I fit. where I'm still a loser by the standards of everyone around me, but a loser who is doing something objectively cool and objectively impressive, something I thrive at that no one can talk shit about because I'm GOOD. someone I knew but have nothing in common with came up to me last night and said, “I got that you took pictures but then I saw you on stage and was like OHHHH”. and I might not belong anywhere else, might not get along with anyone else, but the second a camera is in my hand and I'm crawling behind a drum kit and jumping off a stage an artist is playing a show on, and the band who I’m acquainted with is smiling at me and they love it, and everyone sees me doing it... I belong there, and I know I belong there, and no naysayer can do or say a word about it... that's what it's all about. like the loser theater kid who comes alive on a stage in front of people when they perform and no one can argue with it anymore. I remembered why I do what I do last night. How I found it (or maybe how it found me) suddenly makes sense all over again; not some poorly made impulsive choice by a girl who was too influenced by wanting to be around the boy bands she liked, committed too hard and got stuck - which is how I've seen it in adult hindsight. live music is the faction of the world that I am just the perfect puzzle piece for. somehow the most niche thing in the world - and it does seem niche once again when surrounded by people like this - is my only solid ground in this life. I am my truest self when I am running around with a camera while someone's singing; a self that anyone can see and immediately will get it. and that's just how it is.