#yes dom wrote this song! she did I saw her do it | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

loubouskz · 2 years

Text

who's going first

(3racha x afab!reader)

part 2 for: your moans would sound nice

description: y/n comes back to the studio to hear the song the boys have been working on...and to fuck as well.

warnings: smut, foursome, unprotected sex, slight switch!reader(only to jisung), dom!changbin, dom!chan, dirty talk, praising, petnames(baby(girl), sweetheart, sweetie, etc.) prepping, reader back talks chan- so slight brat!reader, jisung being impatient, oral(fem and male receiving), deepthroat, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, creampies, some aftercare

wc: 3,000+(somewhat proof-read)

a/n: long time no see! how is everything going? you doing well, eating, sleeping, drinking some water? for me...I've been okay. the last few months I stopped writing because a lot of devastating things happened and I wasn't in the right mindset for a while. but now I'm slowly coming back. as you saw above this is part 2 to my 3racha fic(FINALLY)! I'm so happy that I've finally finished it. and I couldn't have done it without the help of a friend who stayed on the phone with me, yesterday and today. I had about 1,000 words already written, but with my friend. I wrote 1,000 yesterday and 1,000 more today. I'm so happy that this is finally finished. but enough talking. I hope you enjoy this part 2.

also fill free to comment or inbox me about this fic or upcoming ones, I love read the things you guys have to say!

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I knocked on chan's studio door, waiting for one of the boys to answer. jisung had texted- with a whole bunch of emojis that the end might I add, saying they wanted me to hear the finished product of one of their new songs, and to bring some drinks. it had been a few weeks since everything happened, I felt my body become warm just thinking about it. the door opened to a smiley changbin in a pink hoodie and joggers.

"good evening y/n." changbin said, opening the door wide enough to let me enter. I saw jisung and chan sitting on the couch, looking very comfy man-spreading on the tiny couch. "hey guys." I said, sitting the drinks I brought with me on the desk. "hi, y/n-nie, did you get my favorite?" jisung asked, standing up to grab his cup. "of course I did." I said, grabbing his and putting it in his hand. he immediately took a sip, "hmmm, every time it feels like I'm drinking it for the first time again." he said, throwing his head back then taking his seat back on the couch. I laughed as I handed chan and changbin their drinks as well. that's when I looked at what they were wearing. chan wearing his iconic black muscle tee and shorts. jisung wearing a black hoodie over and jeans with rips in the knees.

"you boys look nice today." I said, sitting in between jisung and chan. "thank you, y/n." changbin said with a wide smile as he took a sit on the chair in front of the desk, spinning around. "you don't look too bad yourself." chan said, with blushed ears. "you mean the one of the five whole outfits that I own, that look good together that I've worn multiple times." I said with a laugh, making the boys laugh too. "yes." chan said. "okay enough small talk!" jisung said, grabbing the attention. "I want y/n to hear the song." he continued, while slightly bouncing in his seat and bumping into my shoulder. "jisung, she just got here. we haven't asked her about her day." changbin said, kicking jisung in the foot. jisung whined and looked at me. I laughed and told them about my day.

"so you didn't do much? okay! SONG TIME!" jisung yelled. chan laughed and changbin rolled his eyes. "damn, yes I want to hear the song now. impatient brat." I said towards jisung, who just stuck his tongue at me and I stuck mine right back at him. changbin turned around and clicked around on the laptop, till an alluring melody and slow bass filled the room. I leaned back and closed my eyes, letting the music enter my body.

a r&b intro started with changbin singing including chan in the back, then fell into the first verse with jisung rapping. I felt the boys' eyes on me, watching my reaction. soon the chorus began, the same as the intro, just more full and enticing. my head bobbing the music. next was the second verse, changbin fast rapping the first part then chan slow rapping the next. the mixes of the two different rap styles, feeling more and more captivating. then was the bridge of the song, jisung was singing then chan was next. that's when I was caught off guard with familiar sounds in the background, right in the middle of the two voices. I stopped moving, my eyes snapping wide open as I felt my cheeks heat up. jisung started smirking at a giggly chan and changbin. soon the song ended with chan vocals and the same slow r&b beginning.

“wow” I said, not really having any words. “what’d you think of it y/n?” chan asked. I looked at him and smiled. “It sounded amazing like always channie.” I said. chan laughed and looked down. “what about the bridge?” jisung asked. I whipped my head to jisung. “it sounded sexy, you pervert.” I said. “you’re just as much.” jisung said. “did you invite me here to listen to the song or just to fuck me again?” I asked, looking at all three boys. “both.” changbin said, leaning forward, resting his arms on his legs, I laughed. “alright then.” I said, “who’s going first this time?” I continued with a smirk.

“jisung.” changbin said, nodding his head to him.

very quickly, clothes met the floor while kissing jisung as I got on top of him. I ran my fingers through the back his hair, pulling on it a little. his hands exploring my body, giving squeezes here and there. I moved my hips to feel some more of his hard on that was growing under me. he groaned into my mouth as our tongues fought over dominance. I made my way from his lips to his neck, leaving a wet trail in the process. I sucked right where his neck and collarbone meet, making him moan loud.

“fuck, that feels nice baby.” he said, pressing my body more into his. my hands traveled down his chest and brushed over his nipples, down his abs till they made it to his cock. I quickly got off jisung and sat on my knees in front of him. keeping eye contact with him as I did a bold long lick up his length. jisung’s head fell back as he groaned, keeping eye contact though.

“don’t tease him too much, y/n.” changbin said. I looked back at him and smile at him. “of course not. I want to feel him inside me this time.” I said as I jerked jisung off with a firm grip. I turned back around, kissing the tip of the head. slowly pushing him inside my mouth, not stopping till I made it almost completely down to his pelvis. jisung’s hips bucked up out of pleasure. he ran his fingers through my hair and started to guide me how he wanted.

“you’re doing so good. getting it all nice and wet.” jisung said, making me whine on him. “want me to prep her for your cock jisung?” I over heard changbin ask. “yeah.” jisung groaned out. changbin left his chair and shuffled close to me, kneeling down at the level I was at.

I felt changbin’s hands grab my waist and trail down my legs, making me spread my legs naturally. changbin’s hand cupped my sex, groaning at the feeling of how wet I was. “baby is already so wet.” he said as he pushed one finger into me. I moaned around jisung’s cock, bucking my hips into changbin’s hand. “focus on jisung, baby. I’ll do the work here.” changbin said, rubbing my ass. I closed my eyes as jisung guided this hand to my hair, pulling on it a little.

“you’re doing so good baby.” jisung said through his moans. I hallowed my cheeks harder around him at the praise. I felt changbin add a second finger, scissoring inside me making me pop off jisung and jerked him with my hand. “god, do I make this hard every time you see or think of me?” I asked jisung, making him groan and changbin stop his movements below.

“oh she’s feeling bold this time.” i heard chan say in the background. I turned my head to him, “yeah, and what can you do about it? nothing as of right now, it’s jisung’s time.” I said, looking back to jisung. “right baby?” I said, with fake innocent eyes and a firm grip on his cock. “yeah, fuck off chan.” jisung said. “watch it.” chan said, I giggled and was about to take jisung back in my mouth.

“come on y/n.” jisung said, grabbing my hand to help stand me up. changbin removed his fingers and sat back down in his seat. “let’s get a move on baby.” he said, making me sit onto his lap. with my legs on either side on his, he grabbed a hold of his cock and slowly pushed down inside me. feeling his length fill me up nicely, so firm and hard in me,

“feels so fucking nice. god damn.” jisung said, grabbing my hips. I moaned as my pelvic bone met his. rolling my hips in a circle to get used to his size. “you feel good too sungie.” I said, looping my arms around his neck before kissing him on the lips. jisung squeezed my hips as I slowly brought my hips up and going back down. breaking the kiss as I was working up the pace with each bounce. “fuck you’re so tight y/n. shit, i’m not gonna last long.” jisung said. “that’s fine sungie, you be good and cum whenever you need too.” I said out of breath, making jisung throw his head back once again. “just keep bouncing like that and i’ll cum in no time.” he said back with his eyes closed. I closed my eyes too, focusing on the feeling of his cock inside me.

“angle your hips a little more y/n.” I heard chan say next to us. “be quiet channie, it’s jisung’s time.” I whined out, but I did what he said anyway and gave out the biggest whine.

with the new angle, jisung’s cock hit my g-spot perfectly every time I came down. “oh fuck.” I said, pushing my head into jisung’s sweaty neck. i pressed my lips on his ear and whispered in it. “you’re doing so good baby. I love how you feel inside me. I can’t wait for you to feel me up.” I said, before leaning back and holding his head up- making him open and lock eyes with me. “you can do that for me right sungie?” i asked as I bounced harder, feeling my first climax coming fast. “I’m about to cum.” jisung said, as he started pushing his hips up to meet mine. “please cum for me jisung.” I said as I felt myself tighten around him. with one final thrust from him, he came inside me, triggering mine at the same time. both of us moaning and whining at the feeling. jisung held on to me tight, not letting go. taking some time to calm down as I messed with the back of his hair as we waited

after some minutes, jisung slowly pulled me off him, making me hiss. i sat down in the middle of the couch, between him and chan. “wow, that was amazing. i loved everything second of that.” jisung said in his hyper self again, like he didn’t just get down fucking me. making the other boys laugh.

“still need a few minutes y/n or we start my turn.”changbin asked, with a smirk. “i just need a sip of my drink and I’ll good.” I said. changbin handed over my drink that was on the table, “you better be for me.” he said as I grabbed the drink from him. I felt my cheeks heat up at his comment.

I took a few sips from my drink before standing up and walking over to the table to place my drink down. I turned to changbin and smiled at him, “hey there.” he said. “hi.” I said as i sat in his lap. he tilted his head up and place his lips onto to mine. soon the simple kiss turned into a heated makeout session. changbin pushed his tongue into my mouth, making me groan. his soft lips left my lips to my jaw, down my neck. leaving sloppy wet heavy kisses all over, sucking hard in areas that made me whine. I pressed down into his crotch, trying create friction.

“no sweetie, stay still for me.” changbin said, holding on to my waist. I quickly stopped moving and waited for changbin to do or saying something. “take my clothes off me baby.” he said as his hands slid down to my body, onto my thighs. i slid my hands under his hoodie and felt up his body. he leaned his head back, till holding eye contact with me. I pushed his hoodie up, slowly working up his body. he lifted his arms up as the hoodle came off. I leaned down and kissed down his chest. I got onto the floor and pulled at his joggers, making him lift his hips. his underwear came off along with his joggers. I looked at him as my hands slid between his thighs as I pressed them apart. I kissed his thighs as I made my way to his hard on.

“just get it wet enough for me to slide right in.” changbin said as I kissed my way on his cock. I took my tongue and licked up and down a few times before taking him slowly into my mouth. bobbing up and down each time coming up, circling my tongue around his tip. changbin bucked his hips up, making me gag on him. "will you let me fuck your throat?" changbin asked, I nodded my head with my mouth on him. he carefully stood up and grabbed the back of my head. bringing his hips back before thrusting into my mouth, quickly picking up the pace. I closed my eyes and focused on not gagging. I felt my spit coming out of my mouth down his cock, falling to the floor and my thighs and hands.

“she takes cock in her mouth so well, doesn’t she changbin?” jisung asked in the background. “yes she does, fuck.” changbin answered. “you’re gonna have feel her mouth.” he said to chan. “i’ll have to next time, when I’m not fucking last. I won’t last if I feel that pretty little mouth of hers.” chan said, I whined hearing his low voice enter my ears. changbin removed his cock of my mouth and sat back down in the chair behind him. he patted his lap, making me standing up. “turn around baby. face the boys, I want them to see your pretty face as you ride me.” changbin said. I turned around and went to sit on his lap. he grabbed my waist with one hand and I felt him pushed his cock into me as I sat on him. my head fell forward, hair falling into my face and moaning at the same time. I placed my hands on his knees and looked back up at jisung and chan.

jisung was still naked, slowly playing with his dick in hand. chan had his tank top off now and pants just down enough for the cock to be out. chan spat in his hand and jerked his cock off, watching me carefully. “come on baby.” I heard changbin say, pushing his hips up, making me gasp. I lifted myself once and back down. “oh god.” i said as I picked up the pace. not too fast, but enough to feel the knot building up inside. “you look so good.” I heard jisung said. feeling their eyes on me, hearing the wetness that was being made from me and changbin. I tightened up around him. “shit, you’re already about to cum?” changbin said, but I didn’t respond. “huh baby?” he said, grabbing my waist. “yes binnie.” I whined out. “open your eyes y/n-ie.” I hear chan say. my eyes snapped open and looked at both the boys with watery eyes and a wide mouth. I was starting to lose my pace, changbin quickly noticed and started helping me- guiding up and down.

“cum all over me y/n.” changbin said in the low voice, his hips thrusting up as mine pace down. mind went out as I came all of him with my thighs shaking. “oh fuck.” changbin said as he kept going to reach his high. “cum in her bin, just like jisung did. make her even more messy for me.” I heard chan say. I let out a high pitched moan as changbin filled me up with his cum. changbin groaning with a tight grip on my waist. “shit.” changbin said, rubbing his hands up and down my body. “your tits looked amazing as you were riding him y/n.” jisung commented, I busted out laughing. “thank you sungie.” I said. I looked over to chan who was already looking at me with smirk. I slowly lifted myself off of changbin and slowly made my way to chan. he hugged me as I sat on him. I brought my lips to his and gave him a heated kiss. before it could go farther.

“I gotta use the bathroom guys.” jisung said as he quickly stood up. we watched as he put back on his clothes in a mess and left the room. chan chuckled and looked at me. “you’ll be brave with jisung and a good girl for changbin. how are you going to act for me?” he asked with his head tilted to the side. “I don’t know. how do you want me to act?” I answered back, tilting my head with his. chan smiled before he flipped me into my back on the now open space on the coach, I yelped at the fast movement. he climbed over my body, hands on other side of my head, “how about you lay there and take my cock like a good girl I know you can be.” chan said before pecking my lips and heading to my neck. kissing down to my chest, taking my right nipple into his mouth. “ah channie.” I said as my hands ran through his hair and stayed. he kissed down my navel til he was right above my clit.

his eyes locked with mine as he brought his hand up my slit, gathering the mixture of cum that was spilling out. popping his fingers into his mouth, groaning at the taste. his fingers slid out and quickly into me as his mouth came in contact with my clit. I cried out at the overstimulation, pumping his fingers in and out at a slow pace as his tongue played with my clit. “chan.” I moaned out. I arched my back and rolled my hips into his face. his left hand gripped my thigh tightly. the sounds in the room would make even the devil turn a blind eye. “fuck, I wanna cum channie.” I said, as I gripped got tighter on his head. he moaned with his mouth on my clit, curling his fingers into onto my g-spot. I tightened around his fingers and my high hit my like wave. he took his mouth off me, “good girl.” chan said, taking his fingers out before hitting up.

he grabbed my legs and lifted them up, slipping right between my legs. he brought one leg down as it fell off the side of the couch and held the other up to his shoulder. chan grabbed his cock, stroking it once. “think you can held my cock today babygirl?” he asked. I nodded my head as I grabbed his hips and rolled mine into his. “please.” I begged. chan rubbed his cock over my slit before pushing in, moaning at the feeling.

“so tight still, after being used twice before me. but also messy for me.” chan said as he pulled out and pushed back in. I closed my eyes, loving the feeling of how full i was. “feels so good channie.” I said, digging my fingertips into his skin. he hissed at the feeling and snapped his hips quickly into me, making cry out. “take it baby, I know you can.” chan huffed out, hanging on to my thigh, picking up a fast pace. my head fell to the side to see changbin watching the show. I moaned and tightened around chan. “so good.” chan said, placing one hand next to my head again. I turned my back to him and slid my arms up to his back.

chan placed his forehead on mine as we kept eye contact. “I’m about to cum channie.” I said, dragging my nails down his back. “oh shit, hold it a little longer for me.” he said closing his eyes, giving me harder and faster thrusts. I nearly screamed, chan quickly brought his left hand to my neck, giving it a light squeeze. my eyes rolled to the back of my head as my orgasm washed over me. chan gave some more hard thrusts before cumming hard, deep inside me.

chan laid his body on mind with head in the creek of my neck. after a few seconds of silence, the door opened up. we snapped our heads to the door to see jisung poking his head in. “just saying I heard you scream.” he said as he walked in, closing the door behind him. I blushed and hid into chan’s chest as the boys chuckled. chan sat up and slid his cock out of me, making my whence. “changbin, hand me some tissues please.” chan said, holing out his hand. changbin grabbed them and placed them in his hand. chan cleaned me up and help me sit up. jisung helped me put on his hoodie he wearing that he had over his shirt, kissing my forehead once my head popped through the hole. I stood up and put my underwear and pants back on as chan and changbin put their clothes back on. we all sat down in our original spots, I laid my head on jisung’s lap and brought my legs up on chan’s lap. “take a nap y/n for a few minutes.” jisung said, running his fingers through my hair. “you sure?” I asked, looing up at him. “yeah, we have to review a few songs before we leave for the day.” chan said, rubbing my legs, massaging them a little. “okay.” I said, closing my eyes and almost falling asleep immediately.

“y/n-ie.” I heard as someone was rubbing my arm. I hummed out and turned my head. “we’re done here. we can leave now.” the voice said. I opened my eyes and saw changbin. I smiled and sat up and stretched my arms and back. we stood up grabbing our things we had laying around.

“let’s head to the dorm and watch a movie with some take out, I'll pay for it.” chan said, smiled sweetly as he picked up the left over clothes on the floor to bring with us. “that’s sounds good to me.” I said, looking at jisung and changbin. they nodded their head, “hell yeah!” jisung said, opening the door. changbin threw his arm around my shoulders as we followed jisung out the building.

1K notes · View notes

storiesforallfandoms · 2 years

Text

brat ~ eminem

word count: 2559

request?: yes!

“Hello could I request a Eminem x reader smut and he’s more dominant in it please ?Thank you 🤍”

“I love reading everything you write about Marshall, but I noticed there is not a lot of smut, and I absolutely adore how you write smut about him, would you mind writing one? If you're comfortable ofc, I was thinking of fan/him or just as a couple, I loved the one you wrote and the daddy thing as well👏🌺”

description: in which she decides to push her luck with her boyfriend to see what the outcome will be

pairing: eminem x female!reader

warnings: swearing, smut (dom!marshall, sub!reader, choking, spanking, bondage, teasing with toys, orgasm denial, unprotected pinv)

masterlist (one, two)

Despite your excessive bratty-ness all day, you hadn’t exactly planned to be tied up to the bed waiting for your punishment.

Marshall was a workaholic. No one could deny that. He was very open about that himself. If he wasn’t recording, he was writing. If he wasn’t righting, he was producing. If he wasn’t producing, he had something going on with his record label or with Paul. If he wasn’t doing all of that, he was recording another album or another single or another feature. It was an endless cycle of work for him.

He often apologized for being so wrapped up in his work, but you couldn’t really blame him. Rap was Marshall’s first love; his main obsession. He had loved rap and hip hop longer than you had even known each other. You could never bring yourself to be truly upset whenever he was deep in his work, even if it did leave you a little annoyed sometimes.

But this time was different.

You weren’t sure why, but you were incredibly needy and horny. You were like a cat in heat - all you wanted to do was jump Marshall’s bones and have him take you however he wanted.

But, of course, he was busy writing.

He had stayed home on this particular day instead of going to the studio to write, which was both a blessing and a curse. A blessing because that meant he was home and could help to relieve you of your neediness, but a curse because that meant he was much closer than normal while still being just as busy as normal.

You had been laying on your shared bed, the ache between your legs seemingly just growing with every passing second. You were considering just trying to fix it on your own, and maybe even moaning loud enough for Marshall to hear to see what his reaction would be, when a similar idea hit you.

You quickly got up and put on some lingerie you had bought a while ago and had been waiting to wear for Marshall. You loosely wrapped a silk robe around your body, letting it hang open just enough that he’d be able to see you were wearing nothing underneath it.

You walked to Marshall’s office as silently as possible so that you didn’t alert him that you were coming. He had the door open, luckily, so all you had to do was stand there in the best sexy pose you could come up with, and hope that your plan was about to work.

Marshall was leaned over his desk, scribbling down something on a piece of paper. Without looking up, he said, “I’m sorry, babe, I’m still busy. I’ll try to finish up soon.”

“You can finish something soon,” you said, trying to sound as sultry and seductive as possible.

He started to chuckle as he looked up at you, but the moment his eyes landed on you the humor went from his face.

“What’s wrong? Cat got your tongue?” you asked him, a smirk growing on your face.

He looked you up and down for a moment. You couldn’t help the feeling of satisfaction in you when you saw him shuffle in his seat, his dick undoubtably growing hard just from the sight of you.

You were disappointed, however, when his head lowered again and he said, “I really can’t right now. I’m in the middle of a song.”

You huffed an annoyed sigh, about to turn and leave, when a new idea popped into your head.

You slowly made your way into the room, stopping at the other side of Marshall’s desk. You leaned forward, pressing your boobs together with your arms so that they were more visible. You could tell Marshall was trying so hard not to look up at you, which was both pleasing you and frustrating you more.

“You can take a little break, can’t you? I’ve been so horny all day and nothing will please me the way your cock does,” you said.

His writing faltered a moment.

Please break, please break, please break.

“Once I’m done we’ll have all night for me to help you. Wouldn’t you prefer that?” he asked.

“Not as much as I’d prefer to be fucked on this desk right now,” you responded.

Still, he didn’t budge.

But you refused to be deterred. You were going to try your damnedest to get Marshall to break. If nothing worked, then you’d admit defeat. But until then, you were determined.

You walked around his desk and stopped just behind him. You put your hands on his shoulders, slowly digging your thumbs into his shoulder blades and rubbing slow circles there.

“You’re so tense though, baby,” you told him. “You could use a break from being hunched over this desk.”

A groan of pleasure escaped Marshall’s lips as you continued to massage his shoulders. You smirked to yourself before lowering your lips to start kissing his neck. He moved his head to the side a little, giving you leeway to kiss as much of his neck as you could. A few more moans and groans spilled from his lips, and you were sure this was your victory, until you felt his hands on yours, pushing you away from him.

“Hey, stop trying to distract me,” he said, his voice suddenly serious. “I mean it, (Y/N), don’t be a brat.”

The name did nothing more than feed the flame that was growing in your stomach.

He thinks I’m being a brat? I’ll show him a brat.

You grabbed his shoulders again and spun his chair to face you. His face showed the same irritation you were feeling, but before he could say anything you climbed onto his lap. The silk robe had fallen open a little more, now showing off the full lingerie set you had picked out. You positioned yourself so that you were grinding directly on his growing bulge.

You resumed your kissing attack on his neck while making small movements with your hips against his crotch. It wasn’t exactly the contact you had been wishing for, but it was enough friction to cause pleasure to run through you. Maybe you could just use him like this; get off this way and leave him all teased and bothered the way you had been all day. It’d be some form of poetic justice you were sure.

Before you could get yourself too far, though, Marshall wrapped a hand around your throat and shoved you off the chair. You stumbled a little, but he caught you, his hand still against your throat as he now stood over you. Your breath caught a little, not that much was getting to your lungs anyways due to the pressure Marshall had on your windpipe.

He spun you around and shoved you down so you were bent over his desk, his hand now pressed against the back of your neck. The sheets of paper he had just been writing on and his pen scattered somewhere on the floor, but it was the last of either of your concerns now.

You were hopeful that this was about to turn into the fucking you had been waiting for. Your core was practically dripping at this point, more than ready to take whatever Marshall had in mind for you.

You yelped in surprise when you felt one of his hands slapping your ass cheek.

“I told you to stop being a brat,” he said before landing another smack against the other cheek. “And what did you do, huh? Did you listen to me?”

You yelped at the third slap, but was quickly muffled when Marshall forced your face down into his desk.

“When I ask you a question, I expect an answer,” he said. “Did you listen to me when I told you to stop being a brat?”

“N-No sir,” you stuttered out.

“Were you being a fucking little brat?”

“Yes sir, I was being a very bad brat.”

“And you know what happens to brats, don’t you?”

You nodded your head, but remembered his earlier words. “Yes sir. Brats get punished.”

“That’s right, they do.”

He landed a few more smacks on both of your cheeks, leaving them stinging and red. When he finally let go of your neck, you were too afraid to stand up in case he wasn’t finished with you yet.

You had to admit, though, his dominance was really turning you on.

“Go lay on our bed,” he commanded. “Take off that robe and lay on your back. Don’t you dare move, or else your punishment will be much worse.”

You nodded your head and quickly scurried back to the bedroom. You threw the robe off onto the floor and laid down on your back on the bed. You wondered what kind of punishment he had in mind for you, but you weren’t left wondering for long. Soon enough, Marshall walked into the room and kicked the door shut behind him.

And that’s how you found yourself where you are now: naked, both wrists tied to the bedposts, your legs spread as Marshall - who was still fully clothed - knelt between them with one of your vibrators in his hand.

“You were so desperate for me when you have at least two of these things laying around here,” he said, looking at the toy in his hand. “It makes me wonder if they even do the trick for you.”

Your breathing had already become pants as you waited to see where he was going with this, although you had a feeling you already knew.

“I figured I should test that out.”

He turned the vibrator on first to its lowest setting, the hum from the plastic toy filling the room. He lowered the toy against your clit and your body shuddered both from the coldness of the toy and from the vibrations of pleasure that were now coursing through your body.

You writhed against the toy, your back arching and toes curling. Marshall kept a hand on your stomach, constantly forcing you to lay down flat on the bed every time you arched your back. Luckily, he wasn’t further punishing you for not keeping still. You weren’t sure you’d be able to stay still at this moment.

“It seems like it’s working just fine,” he mused. “Maybe it’s the level of it. Let’s turn it up a notch.”

“A notch” ended up being the highest level the vibrator could go to. Suddenly, it was pulsating against your clit so quickly that your whole body was shaking with it. Your soft moans had turned to full on screams of pleasure at this point. You weren’t sure how long you’d be able to last like this. You already felt overstimulated by the vibrator, you couldn’t imagine you’d even be able to last through whatever sex Marshall had in mind.

You whined as you felt the vibrations stop. Marshall turned off the vibrator and threw it to the floor.

“That one seems to be working just fine,” he noted. “Let’s try the other two.”

He repeated the process twice: using the lowest and the highest settings on your vibrators against your clit until you were so close to the edge, only to take it away at the last second. You were so desperate for this release that you felt tears forming in your eyes. You weren’t sure you could take much more of his teasing without completely falling apart.

“Awe, it looks like the little brat might’ve learned her lesson.” Marshall gently wiped a falling tear from your cheek with his hand. “Did you learn your lesson, little brat?”

You nodded. “Yes. Yes, I’ve learned my lesson. I promise I won’t be a brat anymore, I promise.”

“I believe you.”

He gave you a tender kiss on your lips before reaching up to untie your restraints. When you were free, he stood from the bed and shed himself of his clothes.

In a complete juxtaposition from his teasing and punishment, Marshall was much more gentle when he entered you. He gave you a minute to adjust to his size inside of you before his hips started to thrust at a slow pace.

“Please,” you begged. “Please go faster. I need to cum, please sir.”

A shit eating grin formed on Marshall’s face, which would’ve annoyed you in any other circumstance. But once his thrusts became quicker and rougher, all you could think about was the growing orgasm you were feeling once again. If he denied you this one, you were sure you’d absolutely fall apart beneath him.

But he didn’t deny you this one. He kept fucking you as you screamed his name and your walls began to contract around him. Your eyes rolled back in your head and you started seeing stars with the intensity of your orgasm. You swore you had never came that hard before but it felt like your entire body was light as air as you rode out your orgasm.

It wasn’t much longer until you felt Marshall’s thrusts become sloppy and his cock twitching inside of you. You tried to form the words to tell him he could finish inside of you, but you were effectively tongue tied. You could barley even get your noises of pleasure out now.

He didn’t need the encouragement, though. Within moments, Marshall was biting down on your shoulder to muffle his groans as his seed spilled inside of you.

You both laid together for a few moments, trying to compose yourself. Your body felt exhausted but at the same time it also felt incredibly good. It was the release you had been waiting for all day, and the one you direly needed after all of Marshall’s teasing.

He pulled out of you finally and went to get the two of you cloths to clean yourselves. You halfheartedly wiped up the mixed juices between your legs and threw the cloth to join the other discarded clothes on the floor before grabbing the blankets and slipping under them.

Marshall chuckled. “Tired now?”

“Maybe a little,” you admitted. “I’m sorry I took you away from your songwriting.”

“No you’re not.”

You chuckled. “Okay, maybe not entirely sorry. Just a little sorry.”

He shrugged his shoulders and got into bed with you. “It’s alright. You were right, I do need a break.”

“You seemed very invest in what you were writing, though.”

“Yeah I was. Maybe too invested. I can finish it tomorrow. I wanted to work from home today so I had more time with you, and I still ended up in my office writing the whole day.”

“It’s your job and your passion. I get it. I was just so horny all day and I really wanted you to fuck me.”

Marshall wrapped his arms around you and pulled you to him. “Well, I’m glad I could help your problem then.”

“I am, too.”

He kissed your forehead as you settled against his chest. You really were feeling pretty tired now. Your eyes were slowly starting to close, sleep starting to take over your body.

“Rest up,” Marshall whispered into your ear. “When you’re ready, I’ll be taking you for round two.”

You squeezed your eyes shut, willing the sleep to wash over you as quick as possible so you could be awake again soon.

#eminem #eminem imagine #eminem x reader #eminem smut #marshall mathers #marshall mathers imagine #marshall mathers smut #marshall mathers x reader #imagine #one shot #request #smut #fanfiction #fanfic #fandom

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formulawonu · 3 years

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Hi! I have a request for you if you can, can a request based on “champagne problems” by taylor swift where either daniel, lando, lewis or carlos are dating the reader and think it’s time to propose, and they do it in front of their families or the whole grid but the reader says no, and they broke up, and years later they run into each other again and talk. you can choose the ending between fluff or keep it angst.

champagne problems / lewis hamilton

(gif is not mine! credits to the owner)

warnings: angsty :'(

a/n: i fell in love with this request, thank you so much for it. i got immensely sad writing the last few lines of this :/ taylor swift knows what she is doing. i hope my writing did justice to this beautifully sad song <//3 tried doing smth different and wrote in third person/more of lewis' pov. big cheers to lewis getting 100 wins — what an incredible feat!!! hope you guys enjoy this one :D

He thinks he sees her from across the room but an extra glance tells him it’s not her. She wouldn’t show up here. That isn’t her — something he’s had to learn ever since she left his life two years ago. He is here with someone new and she reminds him of the stars that never fail to show up in the night sky every night. She is constant and he doesn’t need to second guess with her. She understands who he is and knows what he thinks. He is genuinely happy. But she is not her.

“I would like to spend the rest of my life with you. Will you marry me?” He says, looking up at the love of his life from where he is kneeling. They are surrounded by his family and their friends. The most important people in their lives that have become an extension of who they are and know how perfect the two of them are for each other. He planned it all out — the intimate dinner full of all the things she loved. Her favorite food, her favorite people. He wanted to make sure everything was perfect. Everyone in this room knew it was only a matter of time until they both took the next step forward in the relationship. In this moment, however, he only sees her. That is how it is whenever she is around. It feels like tunnel vision: all roads lead simply to her.

He has always believed that love was unique to different people. He is, no doubt, in love with his current girlfriend and he is so sure of that. She is the calm before and after every storm. He also knows that despite this, a piece of him and the love he is capable of giving will always remain with Y/N. He will never forget how it felt to love her, just as he knows she won’t ever forget loving him.

Something is wrong. All he sees is her and yet she looks terrified. Tears are forming in her eyes and there is an emotion that he can’t quite place yet. It is an emotion he doesn’t see often. “Y/N?” He whispers, trying to read her. At this moment, he doesn’t care that everyone is standing around the both of them. He just wants to make sure she is okay. She looks away from him and looks around the room. He squeezes her hand, trying to get her to just focus on him. He is trying to reassure her that everything is okay. She looks back at him then at the open small box in his other hand. She starts shaking her head, the tears now falling from her eyes. Everything seems to be going wrong.

“I love you, Lewis.” His girlfriend whispers as he sways her back and forth on the makeshift dance floor. It is his friend’s wedding. “I love you more.” He is satisfied with the way his life has turned out. It was difficult the first few months she had left his life and he honestly thought life wouldn’t be okay again. Everything reminded him of her. There were pieces of her in his apartment and pieces of her everywhere he went. Time passed by so slowly as if it wanted him to sink in the emptiness that came when he lost her. But he met her — she made everything bright again and allowed him to see colors in the world that turned grey. She was patient with him. She took the time to understand him and let him find himself again. He is happy. He is in love.

“I- I can’t.” She whispers, still shaking her head. The tears won’t stop falling from her eyes. He understands the emotion in her eyes now. She is overwhelmed. It is regret. He can feel tears building up in his own. Everything begins to spin around the two of them. “Lewis, I… I can’t.” He tries to remain holding her hand, but she forces hers out of his hold. He looks up at her, speechless. There are so many things he wants to tell her. He wants to tell her to forget about everyone around the two of them. He wants to tell her it doesn’t matter how it happens or that they don’t need to get married right away. He would be happy being engaged forever if it meant she would be by his side. He wants to tell her that they could ditch the party and just lock themselves up in their apartment if that was what she wanted. But he doesn’t. He can’t because she is long gone now. She has run outside of the room and has left him in the center of everyone’s gaze. He cannot move. He is stuck on one knee, with his mother’s ring in his hand. Everything feels like it’s in slow motion. The first thing he does is close the box and drop it in his suit pocket. He slowly stands up, refusing to look at anyone else. He doesn’t know how to react or how to be. Everything is wrong.

While he is leading his girlfriend back to their table, something catches his attention in the corner of his eye. He has to blink a couple of times, trying to register that it is actually her. There, standing by the bar, is the girl who had left him two years ago. She is standing on her own, her body language still very familiar to him. She does not want to be seen and is trying to simply be a faceless stranger in the crowd. She would not be here if she didn’t need to, but his friends are her friends too and the bride is a good friend of hers. “That’s her, isn’t it?” His girlfriend says, following his gaze. “She’s beautiful.” He flashes a smile at her, nodding. “Yeah. I didn’t think she was going to be here, actually. None of us have actually seen her since it happened.” “Do you want to say hi to her?” He fully focuses on his girlfriend now, trying to understand if she is challenging him or simply curious. All he sees is genuine questioning. “I think you should speak to her, Lewis.” He is unsure if that is the right decision. He does not know what he wants to say to her anyway. “Go. It will make you feel better, even if you don’t know what to say.” She gently nudges him towards her and he is left reluctantly walking towards the woman he has not spoken to since she left him kneeling.

“Hi.” Words escape the both of them, the casualness of a greeting seeming so unfitting for the two. “Hi.” She replies. “How ironic that we’re seeing each other here.” He offers, trying to break the ice. He is not used to this, the awkwardness enveloping the two of them when once in the past he felt he could talk about absolutely anything with her. She visibly draws back at the reminder of the last time they had seen each other too. “Why are you here, Lewis?” She asks with a smile on her face. She was never the type to beat around the bush, that much he knew. She always went straight to the point, never afraid to hear things she might not want to. Like ripping off a bandaid, she once said. “I honestly don’t know why either.” There was no point in lying to her. He doesn’t know what to say, neither does she, and yet it felt right that he could speak frankly to her about the events of the past. “You look happy,” She starts, looking genuinely pleased for him. “You deserve to be happy.” Two emotions bubble up inside of him, one he has not felt in ages. Frustration and defeat. It is all coming back to him.

“We could’ve been happy too.”

She sighs, refusing to meet his eyes. She is still surveying the room, taking in everyone celebrating the union of two lovers. He did not like that about her; she always knew how to hide her emotions. Better put, he did not like how he could not read her anymore. “I don’t want to fight you, Lewis. I didn’t come here to do that.” She picks up her glass of champagne that she has left on the counter of the bar, sipping at it. “Dom Pérignon.” She adds. The champagne she is drinking is her favorite and it is the same one that everyone was drinking the night it happened. Or should’ve happened. A wry smile forms on his face. “I know you don’t owe me an explanation nor should you have ever felt you owed me a marriage, but I just wish you talked to me about it. That was our thing. We always talked about it.” She finally meets his eyes, studying him.

“I just didn’t have anything to say.”

“How could you have nothing to say?”

“I did not know what to say.”

“Then you should’ve said that.”

“I did not have a reason, Lewis. Is that what you want to hear? When you got down on one knee, a thousand thoughts were in my head and none of them told me to say yes. I’m so sorry and you know I loved you immensely—I still do—but I could not for the life of me come up with a reason to know for sure I wanted to say yes.” Just like ripping off a bandaid.

He does not know what to say and he wants to laugh at how she is still able to leave him speechless after all this time. “Well, I’m sorry you felt that way.” That is all he is able to say in reply. “I’m sorry I couldn’t say yes.” She finally meets his eyes, the familiar gaze of the woman he once swore he would give everything up for. “My mom wants a sorry too.” He finally says after a while, trying to lighten up the mood. “I miss her.” She replies, a small smile forming on her face. His mom absolutely loved her and held a special place in her heart for her. She was just as crestfallen as he was when she saw what had taken place two years ago. “She misses you too. Everyone kind of misses you too. I don’t understand why you had to disappear.” She shakes her head. “It wasn’t me, Lewis. All of this,” She says, gesturing around the grand ballroom. “Is not me.” “Then why are you here?” He doesn’t mean it as an insult, he just wants to know. She frowns at him. “Because Joe and Louise are my good friends, Lew. I wasn’t planning to stay long, though. I just promised Louise I was going to come by and I keep my promises.” He knows she does. He shakes his head at her. “I didn’t mean it that way. It’s nice to see you again, honestly. Nice to know you’re still alive.” “I know you didn’t. But I just don’t know who I am when I’m here. It’s all so….” She pauses, trying to think of the right word. “Intense? Overwhelming? Heavy? I don’t know. It just makes you feel so small.” He nods but he still can’t grasp that she had felt this way all this time. Maybe he didn’t know her as well as he thought he did. “Don’t blame yourself, Lewis. I can see you doing that now. It was just me.” There is amusement in her eyes and he can’t understand how she is so candid about all of this. “I just don’t understand how I feel like I didn’t- don’t know who you are. I don’t know where it all went wrong.”

She studies him, noting how the creases in his forehead have formed. Something he always does when he is deep in thought. “Lewis, you knew me better than anyone else in this world and I don’t want you to ever feel like you didn’t. What we shared was good, right? It was brilliant.” She offers him a small smile, a consolation for all that has gone on between them. “I will always love you. I don’t think I need to tell you that. You will always be special to me. But what was screaming at me when you got down on one knee was that whatever was happening… It wasn’t right. And I wouldn’t forgive myself if I ever let you go into something so wholeheartedly with me in it half-heartedly. That wouldn’t be fair to you. You deserve someone who would jump into darkness headfirst with you. I hope she is that for you.” She glances around the room again, probably noticing the eyes of spectators that have now noticed the both of you together again. She is beginning to get conscious. The emotions that were beginning to reveal themselves through her eyes are disappearing once again. She is withdrawing. He nods, trying to internalize everything she has just said.

“I’m sorry I lost you. I know you don't want me to apologize, but I’m sorry we ended like that. There are times I wish you were still in my life and there are times I still think about what it would be like if it was us in this position.” His words hang in the air, the both of them looking around the room. “But I’m doing okay. She’s great - I think you two would get along, actually. I honestly hope you’re doing okay. It sucks that I don’t know what you’re doing. I hope you know that you’re still always welcome to just hang out or whatever. Have a chat to update me on your life, Y/N. Don’t be a stranger.” She nods, smiling at him. She drinks the rest of her champagne before setting the glass back on the bar counter. “That is great to hear, Lewis. I still keep up with your races, you know? A hundred wins, you’ve finally done it. No matter what, I am always going to be proud.” She places a hand on his shoulder, a fleeting squeeze on it, then she drops it. “I’ll try not to be one. But either way, just know I’ll always be rooting for you.” She straightens out her dress then tucks her hair behind her ear. “I’ve gotta go.” She says, looking up at him. He tries to remember how she looks in this moment because he knows he doesn’t know the next time their paths will ever cross again. She is in a floor-length dress and her hair falls in waves just by her shoulders. Her eyes alight with assuredness and confidence, something that he now realizes he barely saw back then. She is happy too. That is all that matters. He nods, giving her a small smile. “Goodbye, Y/N.” She smiles back at him too. “Goodbye, Lewis.” She begins to walk away, not once looking back. Just like how it was two years ago.

“Hey, Y/N.” He calls out to her. She is not far enough for him to draw attention. She turns around, her head tiled to the side. “We almost had it all, didn’t we?” She chuckles and he can feel the sadness in it. She nods, still chuckling. “We really did. Cheers.”

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kjmsupremacist · 3 years

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Felix sweet boy baby angel but Christopher Bang is literally Satan? Idk if you saw but Hyunjin ratted him out on live and said the lyrics for Red Light were toned down. I don’t want to know. I don’t. He was already talking about edging and I don’t want to know. He can keep his Scorpio Venus and his Sag Mars away from me and everyone I love. I would give anything to know his rising if sign. It’s giving Earth but there’s so much air in his chart it’s hard to be sure. 🤖

i am so happy you sent me this ask because i have been looking for an excuse to talk about red lights. I sent leon and margot a seven minute long voice message when i was doing my research for my red lights-inspired fic like that's where i'm at.

First, yes, I saw Hyunjin's comments! that's what chris gets for trying to say hyunjin wrote all the lyrics in the first place. nice try, chris. also, his scorpio venus is SEXY. i won't be taking criticism on this opinion.

Now. Please see under the cut if you want to watch me dissect Red Lights -- both the lyrics and the MV.

so, credit where credit's due--I skimmed this and this reddit posts while I was doing my research.

now. we all know that on the surface, this song is about sex (and specifically bondage and edging—that much is clear). but, ah, how's the saying go? "everything is about sex except for sex, which is about power"? sure.

yeah, it's meant to be sexy. they did that for us and im still not sure if I want to kill them for it or thank them with my life. BUT, as they mentioned in the howl in harmony video, it's primarily a song about obsession.

The first reddit post does a great (albeit kind of aggressive) breakdown of the lyrics, where it becomes really clear that they're talking about the relationship they have with their work and the relationship they have with fans. In essence, the song is about how they want to give their lives and all their time to making more content for fans so that they will continue to receive love from us. The red lights are actually the recording light on a camera (hence the line “set the mic up”).

And so a relationship like the one depicted here is dark and intense, and yes—passionate and driven by love—but ultimately, it consumes itself in the vortex of its own desire, and then peters out into a sort of blank monotony—learned through repetition, a habitual reflex instead of a true reaction.

Then, the second reddit post goes on a deep dive of some of the symbolism seen in the MV—specifically, the use of kink. This is where it gets really fun.

We mostly see Hyunjin in shibari-style bondage. OP posits (and I agree) that he is meant to represent passion without discipline. The shibari ropes are tied messily (and so therefore dangerously) which is perfect for representing how often kink (and other obsessions) can devolve—you plunge in headfirst, but you are directionless except for the insistent tug in your gut that cries for more, more.

Chan, on the other hand, is seen primarily (esp in solo scenes) bound by heavy chains. He represents discipline with no passion. In the Howl in Harmony video, I believe he mentions that after a long day of practice, he'll still find himself in the recording studio, even though he's tired. He does what he has to on autopilot, because he knows he must, because it’s the only thing he feels he can do.

If Hyunjin is mania, then Chan is depression. The chains are GREAT symbolism because this dutiful march towards burnout and beyond is, as the lyrics suggest, stemming from a desire to keep receiving love (from fans)—that if you just work hard enough then no one will ever leave you. You wish to bind the person (or people) you love to you, but in the end the bonds only weigh you down.

So then the part where they’re tied together, back to back, at the end, shows when passion and discipline come into balance. And that’s creation for the love of creation while still maintaining a respect for yourself, the art, and your audience. (or idk. maybe they just thought we'd like to see them tied to one another. and they were right).

It's also fun because while we see Hyunjin and Chan both assume positions of domination and submission, it's clear Chan is meant to be the “dominant force” here (hence discipline). The reason we do see instances of Hyunjin in power (choking Chan, standing over him on the table) is because any somewhat healthy d/s relationship involves first the surrender of power. The dom is only perceived to be in power because the sub first relinquishes it them. So. You know.

I will say I'm not sure what to say about the edging theme (BNKSJDF) besides the obvious—almost giving you what you want, but not quite.

And finally, this is not part of either of those two reddit posts, but I was ENTHRALLED by the use of mirror and mirror-esque imagery throughout the MV and in the choreo. I love mirrors as a symbol so we're going to talk about that, too.

First and most obviously, it may be a bit on the nose. In art, mirrors and reflections are often used to show that there is a deeper meaning than what is clear on the surface. So this might have just been hyunchan going "hey! it's not just about sex!"

but I think there's more to it than that. Mirrors are often used as a vessel of truth—in some Chinese myths, for example, mirrors can repel demons, as they will show a demon’s true form. Or see the Little Mermaid—though Ursula managed to change her outward appearance, she was caught in her lie when another character (sebastian, i think?) saw her reflection in the mirror.

Additionally, one’s reflection used to be thought to contain one’s soul—which is why mirrors were covered in the home of person who had just passed, so they would not be trapped as a ghost in the world of the living.

For this reason, mirrors are often also considered dangerous. Think of Narcissus, for a start, who fell in love with his own reflection and sat at the water's edge, pining, until he fucking died. Or consider the following quote (which I love) from Fernando Pessoa:

“Man shouldn’t be able to see his own face – there’s nothing more sinister. Nature gave him the gift of not being able to see it, and of not being able to stare into his own eyes. Only in the water of rivers and ponds could he look at his face. And the very posture he had to assume was symbolic. He had to bend over, stoop down, to commit the ignominy of beholding himself. The inventor of the mirror poisoned the human heart.”

We use mirrors to watch ourselves watching ourselves (and the Margaret Atwood who lives in our heads cries “male fantasies, male fantasies! You are you own voyeur!”). We perform for the mirror—often what we see in the mirror is not actually how we are seen by others! We think we may find truth there, when in reality it is a distortion. Ties itself up really nicely, I think.

In any case, this really goes well with the theme of obsession in the song—staring in the mirror asking, what do others see? What is wrong about me? What can I do better? The idea of looking in the mirror to seek what others see, both positive and negative, is common throughout. And I think their use of mirrored choreo (esp when it seems like one of them is the reflection!!), as well as mirror placement on the set of the mv, and ESPECIALLY the lovely bit at the end where they both stand staring carefully at their own reflections, all work to drive that theme home.

and i don't even know how to touch on all the color symbolism (when it changes between color and b&w?? the palette being overwhelmingly yellow and red and black???), or the lens filters (warping, blurring, etc), or the way they superimposed pieces of the video on top of other pieces, or the use of that one stark white background—without writing a fucking dissertation (and this is already a ridiculously long post) so i'll just stop here.

This is all to say, maybe what they meant was that the lyrics were a lot more aggressive about these themes and they were asked to tone them down to keep it neutral.

or maybe they're just sexy, sexy motherfuckers and their managers bonked them on the head and sent them to horny jail.

#obviously that mirror quote is a little stupid but at the same time i do think it's so real. like so real.#anyway this is very long but I HAVE SO MANY THOUGHTS.#this is what i was doing a few afternoons ago.... just compiling this.#just... meta hours with xiami #stray kids #bang chan #hyunjin #red lights #mail #🤖 anon

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peeterparkr · 4 years

Text

perfidy;tom holland|20

chapter 20: the screenwriter.

enemies to lovers au/enemies with benefits

chapter summary: the battlefield and the casualties.

pairing: tom holland x y/n

warnings: angst, angst, angst, I use war as a metaphor,

word count: 10.1 k

playlist(1: with song names)

playlist 2 (Spotify link)

Playlist: perf1Dy (one direction+solo songs)

social media before you read :

PART ONE: BEFORE THE PARTY || PART TWO: THE PARTY

previous chapter next chapter series masterlist sequel name announcement

Hi :) thanks to @peachybloomss for being my beta reader. You’re gonna hate me, bye! :)! 🍉

Chaos. Chaos. Chaos.

You could hear it, the chaos, people running, shaking, disaster. Your heart was beating fast if you had one, that is. Did you have a heart after this?

How was your heart working after all of this was beyond your knowledge. Everything was ruined. You couldn’t pity yourself now, you had no right. You wouldn’t cry, not right now. You were okay.

You were running through a battlefield, bleeding, but it was still not over. Your wounds could wait because honestly, they didn’t matter. But you knew it, you’d never heal. You needed a storm to wash away the pain, but the chaos was bringing more chaos.

You had walked back into the house, not sure why; not sure who you were looking for. What were you trying to do?

Emma. Yes, Emma first.

Even as the chaos continued.

You needed to hurry, you wanted to run. You’d rather be anywhere. Anywhere, seriously. Because this was your fault. This was completely your fault. The rain was supposed to pour down, the war was supposed to start. You were the one to cause this, you were the double agent. The duplicity. Had you told Tom earlier about the script, had you not written all your damn thoughts then you wouldn’t be here. Maybe you wouldn’t be dating Tom, but maybe that was a sacrifice that you would have paid instead of this chaos. Instead of this battle.

The war continued and this seemed like it had been the last battle, both of you had lost. Both of you were bleeding.

He hadn’t listened to you.

But you had made the weapon that had destroyed you both, you and Tom. This was your fault. Sure, he had done it in the worst timing. But he was not a monster. You had painted him wrong. But he hadn’t listened to you you. He hadn’t asked. You didn’t blame him, he didn’t know your whole story.

But then again, you didn’t know his.

This wasn’t his fault, he was a spark waiting for a long time to be ignited. Alcohol is flammable.

Could you ever carry on? And though you knew you couldn’t fix it, the first thing you’d done was to look up for him. As if in a cry for help, as if asking him to save you. To save him.

But you both needed saving.

You rushed through the crowd who were clearly still talking, shocked. They were talking. And you were a villain. You were the bad guy in their story because they didn’t know the whole story. But they didn’t need to, because they knew something true.

But you saw Timmy, helping Emma get across to the stairs, she was crying, she was wounded. The casualty.

You rushed to her, you needed to fix this with her. She was your friend, you were not meant to hurt her. She was not supposed to fall into this mess. She didn’t deserve this.

“Emma,” you called. Timmy was sad, too, but he seemed angry. You’d never seen him this way. He was pissed, his sight was dark. He was very, very angry.

Timmy turned to see you, he shook his head.

“Please, can I talk to you?” You asked anyway, approaching them, as Emma kept going upstairs.

Timmy followed after. “No, y/n it’s not a good time,” he warned you.

You followed them. “Please, please, Emma--.”

“No, get away from me,” Emma finally turned around to you as you were both on the edge of the stairs. “I knew it—I knew it,” she cried, as she tried to catch her breath. “I’m—y/n, I just—” Tears were falling down her face as she took a deep breath. “No, it’s not… I’m not even—” Her voice was cracking. “You and Tom should fucking solve your problems alone but now—”

“I’m sorry, Emma, it’s all a misunderstanding.”

“Is it?” She turned darker. “He said it! How you wrote a script and apparently you loved my fiance!”

You felt a dagger in your chest. “No, it was taken out of context—” You tried to implore.

She scoffed. “Was it, y/n?” she growled. “Because I’ve been living in fear that you’ll one day finally realize it! Maybe you didn’t know it, y/n, but I saw it! Fuck you saw it too, right Timmy?”

Tim pursed his lips as he took a deep breath.

“No, Emma—I swear, it’s nothing like you think it is,” you explained.

Emma ran to you, she was crying, and she looked at you, her eyes full of tears begging for an explanation.

“Emma, come here, let’s calm down,” Timmy grabbed her hand and tried to pull her back to him, Emma pushed his hand away.

“No—I’m not—” She warned Timmy and then turned back to you. “I thought you were my friend.”

“I am your friend, Emma I didn’t mean for all of this to happen,” you urged.

She was shaking, her hands were shaking as she tried to hug herself. “Then why? Why—Are you trying to take him away from me?” She shrieked.

“No, I’m not—No, I want you both to be happy, I know he loves you.”

Emma screamed and brought her hands to her head.

Timmy rushed to pull her into a hug, calming her down. “Okay, Emma, no please, calm down.”

She pushed him away and punched her way out of his embrace. “Don’t you fucking dare to defend her right now, Timmy, because guess what she didn’t fucking love you either.”

Neither you and Timmy said anything. You both knew Emma was angry, and one should never speak when we’re angry.

“Because of-- fuck, and your whole act? Loving Tom?” She snapped. “It wasn’t true, was it?”

“I’m in love with Tom,” you snapped, somehow that had triggered you even more. “I am not in love with Harry, I love him as a best friend-”

She only glared. “Did something ever happen between you and Harry?”

“Nothing, Emma! I swear nothing happened, ever!” You tried to explain.

She crossed her arms, “and did you ever wish something could happen?”

You shook your head. “No!”

Emma was fuming, but Timmy took her hand again. “Emma come on.”

Emma had given up at that point, as she only made her way to a room. “And tell your boyfriend to fuck off!” She yelled at you before disappearing with Tim.

That was a lost battle. The second lost battle here. You knew it, you wouldn’t win another. You rushed downstairs back to the other chaos, with people rushing and staring. Talking.

You saw Sam, he seemed hurt, he avoided you. Dom and Nikki were talking to Emma’s parents. You saw James, and he only sighed.

You gulped, continuing your way around the house, and you saw the garden again. You saw curls, rushing as he was heading anywhere, you saw Harry walking in circles. Stressed. He was angry, he was sad, he was confused.

You walked past the battlefield and ran to him, he was talking to himself, rubbing his face and his hair.

“Harry,” you said quietly, almost not wanting him to hear.

He only glared at you and walked away.

You followed him. “Harry, Harry, please—Please I’m sorry.”

He shook his head. “No, y/n,” he gulped. “I really don’t think I can be seen with you right now okay?”

He was calm. He wasn’t angry. He was too calm for your convenience. Harry was always calm to you, but you didn’t want him to be calm. He couldn’t be calm to you.

“I—I’m sorry,” was all you could say.

He took a deep breath, bringing his hands to his face. “This isn’t—” He looked at you. “Look, I asked you only one thing today, okay?”He gulped. “And now—Now if they see me talking to you everyone will think—Fuck.”

“I’m sorry.”

He pinched the bridge of his nose. “It’s not even your fault—” The calmness on his voice had disappeared. “Or maybe it is!” He scoffed. “I don’t even know right now—I don’t even know how to fucking feel!” He confessed. “This is bloody ruined.”

“I’m sorry... I should’ ve—I should’ve calmed Tom,” you didn’t even know how to apologize to him.

He clenched his jaw, placing his hands on his hips. He was too stressed. It was the first time you couldn’t know how he was feeling. For the first time in your life, you didn’t know what the hell was going through your best friend’s mind. You didn’t blame him.

“No, but here’s the thing y/n,” his voice had turned so deep, and dark, raspy. “I’m angry at you,” he stated. “Because he probably got mad for a reason, and what he said--I mean, I’m angry because his reasons are justified,” Harry continued. “So, I’m angry at you, because…” He shook his head. “But I’m angrier at him because he couldn’t wait! Bloody hell if he’d caused a scene with only the three of us, I wouldn’t have,” he closed his eyes. “But I’m angry because--It always has to be about him he always fucking puts on a show, he always fucking does this! And that’s—I don’t-” He couldn’t map out his emotions.

You repeat yourself. “I’m sorry.”

“I—I don’t even know how to—” He clenched his jaw. “And you!”He laughed, a dark laugh. “And now everyone thinks we—I don’t even know what they think!”

“I’m sorry.”

“And the worst part is that—I—I can’t get married now, Emma probably doesn’t… I just please get away from me.”

You left, knowing this was another lost battle. Three battles now. And you didn’t know which one hurt more.

You saw your parents, they looked sad, disappointed. And confused. Everyone was confused.

But you kept searching for your brother, he only quietly led the way outside. You saw Tuwaine, he only gave you a second glance. Harrison and Sam again. You saw them yelling, watching as Tom was throwing up on some random bushes.

You tried to walk in, but James tried to stop you.

“Sam—Sam,” you called.

Sam turned to you. “Not right now y/n.” He was cold.

“I’m sorry,” you said for what seemed the thousandth time.

Sam looked away.

James frowned, as he took you by your hand and dragged you away. “I don’t even understand why you’re apologizing, you—This isn’t your fault.”

“But it is.”

James stayed with you that night. You didn’t cry. You weren’t sure why. Maybe it was guilt. It probably was guilt. You didn’t sleep. James had taken your phone, to make sure you didn’t text or call anybody. He said you needed to calm down. He was right, you needed to calm down.

Which was weird, because you weren’t making a scene. You were too quiet, you didn’t know how to react to this. He asked the real reason why Tom was mad.

And you gave him the script. He stayed up all night to read it. You had stayed up in your room, hugging your little frog.

You thought about it, how you always had it wrong when it came to love. Always the wrong streets. You had fucked it up, badly. With Harry, with Tim, with Tom. You never knew what the hell was up. There were no more tears that could help this. But you really didn’t want to go to that dark place again, you couldn’t go there. You needed to cry, but the tears didn’t want to come out, as if you were too proud. The moon was judging you, washing your silks as you were barely breathing.

There was a part that had you thinking that Tom was still wrong. Not because he didn’t have the right to be mad, but because he truly didn’t know where you had been. Because you had meant those words, most of them, because that’s how you’d felt. And though he wasn’t a monster, you’d been there. He had robbed you of your happiness, or your chances to be happy. Because that’s how you really felt. You couldn’t pretend he didn’t hurt you. You couldn’t pretend you hadn’t cried for months, you couldn’t fucking pretend you hadn’t gone to the doctor only to be told you were heartbroken.

Because that was also truth. Because you had lost yourself, you had drowned. You couldn't pretend he hadn’t been a monster. You wouldn’t have expected yourself from a few years ago to be okay with it.

Because it had hurt, so much. You had cried, you had bled. Because it was true. Tom has been a monster. And you couldn’t lie, not with that.

But the script was the story of how the beast turned into a beautiful creature, of how you had found that he had a heart. But that didn’t mean he hadn’t been a monster. It really had felt awful.

But he changed your mind, he changed the story. That’s what he didn’t get. Because this was your side of the story and you couldn’t simply erase it.

But did it matter now? To fight for your story?

And there you were, laying down on the bed when nights before he’d kissed you. You were alone now, your room was cold. And you wish he’d never left. You wished he had listened to you.

But you both were so stupid, you both were so happy. And one of you had to fire, because this was a war. You wish it hadn’t been you.

Maybe he was crying this time. Maybe he was feeling like you had after those flowers. Were you both staring at an empty feeling? Was he going to call you? Was he expecting you to call him?

And had you really wanted that? To make him feel the way you had? You couldn’t want that.

But your pain didn’t justify you. But it was different now. And then there you were. Wishing you’d never written it.

And you felt lonely. And you didn’t want to feel lonely.

You needed to be with him. You didn’t like the night now, he wasn’t there to hold you. The stars were not bright, You knew this was over, he was over. And it was so hard, knowing you had hurt him. This was you digging your end.

And you looked at your walls, this couldn’t be over.

James had walked into your room the next morning, he hadn’t slept.

“He didn’t finish it,” James pointed out. “Did he?”

“No.”

James sat down. “But I get where he’s coming from.”

You nodded. “Yeah.”

He sighed. “You really fucked it up, huh?” He asked. “Still I don’t… I don’t think he did it right by snapping there.”

You stayed quiet.

“There are a lot of things that you don’t understand about Tom,” James started. “None of us, really. But I get where he’s coming from. He loves you.”

“Does he?”

He sighed. “Well.”

“He said it, he’s tired of pretending he loves me, and he said it, how I deserve to be lonely, maybe he’s right.”

“No, no, y/n.”

“I need to be, for a few days, I’m not… I need time, okay? It’s hard enough for me, and right now, I need a favour, please, if you can, talk to them, to Harry, to Sam, explain to them how Tom wasn’t the one who fucked up, he’s not a monster, okay?”

James watched you.

“I love him, James,” you admitted. “I can’t believe I did this to him. And… I’ve hurt him, all of them. Timmy, Harry, Tom.”

He sighed. “And how can you fix this?” He asked.

“I don’t know. “

“Who will you try to fix first?” He questioned. “Who do you want to keep in your life?”

“Do I have to choose only one?”

“Y/N,” James rolled his eyes. “It’s not--”

“I love Tom,” you admitted. “But Harry is my best friend.”

“And Tim?”

You pinched the bridge of your nose.

“You know you have to give up one.”

“But why?” You frowned. “I don’t want… I don’t know, I can’t give up my friendship with Harry, and… I know Timmy will stay, as a friend. But Tom… At least I want him in life, I need him, I love him. I want to fix it, but I know I can’t.”

“He has to know you love him.”

“I know…And for that… Maybe I have to be lonely.”

And you were lonely, for a few days. But it was alright. You needed time to think, to craft this. No one had reached out for you. And maybe Tom had been right, you had fucked it up, and maybe you’d be alone. You deserved it. You really were alone right now, and you didn’t care. Because you needed to think about it, find a way to fix this. Big mistakes were made. Because it had been fragile. So fragile. And you broke Tom.

That didn’t mean you couldn’t try and fix this.

But you couldn’t get your mind at ease. Because this was you, but he hadn’t read it. He didn’t understand it. He didn’t understand how you had changed it. How he had changed the story.

And you had an idea. What you could tell was that Tom was the angriest because he didn’t believe you loved him. And you didn’t blame him.

But you had to prove him. And it was weird because, for the first time, you’d broken his heart.

But this wasn’t easy.

Sure, he’d hurt you, too. This wasn’t a first time he’d hurt you, but you thought you’d learned better. And you’d be lying if you said his own words hadn’t shattered you either. Because he said you deserved to be lonely, and he said he pretended to love you. And you believed him. Maybe he had pretended to love you. You played with fire, and you had both burned.

And you couldn’t stop yourself from crying now, because this was all ruined. And he hadn’t listened to you. You’d hurt him. And Harry. And Tim.

There was only emptiness now, you didn’t even feel… anything. Nothing to say would solve this. Maybe you had to face it, maybe this time it was over for good. And you had to accept it.

But right now, you were trying to figure out if it had only been only an act of playing pretend, you were trying to understand if you really had gone to the battle wanting to win. Maybe you were destined to lose. Because you were sure that even if you were now standing in the end, there was still a beginning.

And so you had an idea, to show the first times. Everybody talks about first times, but not the best ones. Not the ones that really settle in a relationship. Not the ones that you barely remember. But they’re important.

Everybody remembers the first kiss, the first date, the first time you slept together, the first time saying I love you. You clearly remembered those.

But you had your way of remembering them.

But remembering only hurt more because it all led to this, seeing the polaroids on your wall, the napkin, your dresses, the pictures on your phone. This was the story of a breakup, the story of how something that could’ve been. The story of how you had ruined this.

And you had been alone thinking. If you turned back to where it all started, wanting to win the war, did you really want to win it? Had this been the sweet revenge you were looking for? Or had it been just a pathetic excuse just to get close to him and finally accept your feelings? Maybe this just meant you were both too proud to accept it. But you were hurt, too.

Very, very hurt.

And now there you were, wondering what you had done wrong, wanting to turn back time so you had said no to that dare, to that script, if you hadn’t written those horrible words. Because then it wouldn’t have hurt that much. Both playing pretend but both letting each other fall.

But you remembered a first time, the first time you kissed, the first time you crushed on him and the last time he hurt you and the day you had promised yourself you’d never think of Tom Holland as anything but an asshole whom you would never trust, and you remembered that from a very young age you’d promised yourself that you’d never get tangled in his charms. Because they were not true.

But you weren’t really one to talk now about truthful charms and you couldn’t say anything because you were no better than him.

You went back to that promise, after burning yellow flowers. And how you had initially written it, how Tom Holland--William was so vain, and arrogant and too proud of himself. And everything revolved around him. Even your mind and your heart right now. But it was Tom, the idiot you’ve sworn you’d hate your whole life and the one who annoyed you whenever he strutted into a room.

This was Tom, there was no reason to cry. You’d cried enough for him. You’d always say it: ‘I’d rather have grounds in my coffee than spend 5 minutes with him.’ Yet you were crying. You were crying now.

But you had never hated him. But you knew he hated you now.

What were you even doing? You were drowning again. Were you going to ask him to love him after this? He couldn’t. He wouldn’t.

But you wanted him to know that you had loved him. But you couldn’t make any more promises. Not anymore.

You had gone and bought flowers, loose flowers, and you were fixing them yourself. You never really liked the way the flower shops fixed them, so you usually fixed them yourself, yellow flowers and lavenders. As if you were trying to say something more. As if saying, Valerie apologizes to Will. Which, funnily enough, she had.

It was funny, yellow flowers usually meant happiness, joy. Friendship. And they had quite the opposite meaning when it came to you and Tom. And then you had the lavenders, meaning calmness. As if you tried to soothe Tom.

You hadn’t tried to reach out for Harry. He wouldn’t answer. But you had tried to reach out to Emma. She didn’t answer. Sam barely answered. He’d at least tell you that right now it wasn’t a good time and that he would make sure Tom and Harry would talk, eventually.

Timmy did. Timmy was trying to make sure you were alright. He didn’t tell you anything about Emma, no matter how much you asked.

You hadn’t tried to reach out Tom. You wanted to, but you never could hit send. You knew a text wouldn’t fix this. You wondered if he would hover over your name too. You wondered if he expected you to call, and if you did, would he answer?

And was he okay?

Because you knew that it would be delicate to try and do it. Would it hurt more if he answered? Did you even want to answer?

Did he miss you? Did he miss you as much as you missed him? Did he want the same thing you did? Because all you could wish for was for this to disappear, only for a few minutes, only to hug him. Would he want that? Pause everything just so you could hold him?

And Harry? Your best friend, he wasn’t there. Nobody wanted to see you now. And you knew it, probably nobody wanted to know about you. Because you were the bad one.

You wanted to pretend for a bit, imagine that Tom was still yours. You didn’t want to eat, you didn’t want to sleep. You had gone out, once. To see how the world was still spinning, nobody had stopped.

And nobody had reached out for you.

You didn’t want to go to sleep because you’d be waking up alone. Your clothes were all stained now, with him. With him. Fuck, your room was horrible. It only reminded you of what you had lost. Harry, Tom, Timmy.

You only wanted some company. Maybe you didn’t want to be lonely. Though you deserved it, you didn’t. You just wanted a little love, because there was still so much love left. You hadn’t lived enough.

You needed Harry, you needed Tom.

God, you needed Harry.

But you knew you had to let them go. In your cold room, you didn’t want to see it. Not anymore. Because it only reminded you of what you’d done.

And you had bought what seemed a million flowers, one, two, three, hundred of bouquets, of arrangements. But they didn’t look pretty. You couldn’t give that to him. They didn’t scream that you loved him. Lavender and yellow flowers. You didn’t know what you were trying to say.

Except you did: ‘Love me, Tom’.

And what about Harry? How on earth were you going to apologize? He was your best friend. And now he knew. He knew that you had loved him. But he was not supposed to ever know, because you’d lose him. And losing him would be the worst thing you could think of.

You could lose Tom. But not Harry. Never Harry. Because that would mean you’d die slowly, alone. And you thought about it, how this had ended with just a stupid script. And why the hell had you written that?

Couldn’t Valerie just be a bloody dancer? But you couldn’t pretend you hadn’t felt that. You just couldn’t ignore your feelings.

And your room, your room gave it all the signs.

You had been absent. Disappeared from the world. Social media, at least. You couldn’t stomach seeing anything.

James made sure to bring you food, every now and then. Tea. Pancakes. But you didn’t want them anymore.

You stared at the flowers, you stared at the box. The pathetic excuse you had. But you knew you had to do this, Tom wouldn’t want to see you now.

Did you want to see him? Because this had only proven that you would hurt him. You’d both eventually hurt each other again.

But it hurt, and there was that pain across your chest again. Especially since he had said he “pretend to love you.”

You didn’t want to be lonely, so you had called Charlie and Danielle, they had brought ice cream. That’s what you needed, but it had been awful, their confession hadn’t exactly been what you needed this time. You had spent that day with them, listening to Charlie and his shade, Danielle being dumb.

“That day of your interview,” Charlie had said. “We kind of told Tom the same thing we did to you.”

“What did you tell him?”

“About the tension you guys had,” Danielle said, “that he—“

“We were joking, as we usually do, we told him it’d take him no less than two beers to finally end up with your tension. We kind of said.. You know, the whole ‘Id bet you that if you tried to, you could’, you know? that he could take you to bed—I was joking—And then that night we headed to the bar—and he was flirting with you, as if he tried to prove a point to us,” Charlie explained.

And that’s how it had started because they had put the idea to get him to get you to bed. It wasn’t even his own original thought.

And to bloody think that this was all because Charlie and Danielle were fucking joking? Because they had put the thought in both of you? Fucking hell.

Of course, you were hurt. But you were no better, and even if—you didn’t know how to feel about it. But even if the first time had been for a stupid joke or bet or whatever, that didn’t cancel out what you’d done.

But he said he pretended to love you. But you didn’t believe him. Or did you?

If he didn’t love you. Then why the hell were you going to fight for him? You hadn’t accepted it. You had denied this. You didn’t want this. In your mind, Tom had loved you. He had to love you. Because if not, then why the hell had all of this happened?

You didn’t want to say anything.

You couldn’t sleep because he’d be in your dreams. Flashbacks of good scenes. The moon, the stars, the sun. Nothing was bright. It would be, someday. But not today, not soon.

You missed his touch, his lips, his skin. You missed him. And you regretted it. The tears were the only story you wanted to write now. Because he was going to be gone for good.

You arranged the flowers yet again and then you heard someone at your door. Was it Tom? You ran to the door, expecting to see him.

What would you say to him? That you had more pages? That you’d written more pages even when this was over? That you wanted to lay down by his side just one more time. To make sure he was alright. Just to be with him.

That you wanted to be with him only one more night. Because it had all ended so quickly.

And you’d tell him that this was the worst thing you’d done. That you missed him like hell. That you’d take care of him.

But it wasn’t. It wasn’t Tom.

“Hi, I came because I know that you’re probably shutting everyone out so—“Timmy said. You definitely weren’t expecting him. “I just needed to check on you.”

Your heart warmed up. He cared. You let him in as you saw he had some supermarket bags.

You couldn’t believe it was him.

“Thank you, Tim.”

“I brought you these, actual food because if I know you—You’ve been eating takeout haven’t you?”

“Thank you, how much do I owe you?”

It was weird, how even after everything. After you broke his heart, he was there, to take care of you.

How did he not let you be lonely?

Your apartment was a mess. With Polaroids scattered on the floor, flowers here and there, an open box. Clothes hanging around. A story. Your tears, your sorrow.

“What’s all this?” He asked, and then looked at the flowers. “He sent these to you?”

You shook your head. “No, I’m giving them to him.”

“You made the arrangement, didn’t you?” He asked. “That’s why they look pretty.”

“Aren’t you angry?”

You watched Tim go to your kitchen, you followed after him.

“A bit,” he said calmly. “But You can’t have yet someone else angry at you. “

“I’m sorry.”

“I know you are,” he said. “So, what are the flowers for?”

“I’m going to apologize.”

“After what he did?” He asked as he took out the groceries he’d bought. He. “You need to apologize?” Tim shook his head. “No, yn— He is a monster.”

“He is not, Tim, he made a mistake—“

“What he did to Emma—?” Timmy snapped. You knew this wasn’t about you, Tim wasn’t even angry at Tom for you. This was Timmy protecting Emma.

“I know, I know, Emma happened to be the unfortunate casualty in this war and I’m sorry—And I really am sorry.”

He sighed, as he opened the fridge, he raised his brows as he saw the takeouts, cold pizza, and instead placed the food he had bought.

“Casualty. As if this was a war.”

“Wasn’t it?” You frowned.

Timmy turned to you. “No, y/n, that’s your problem, if you walked into a relationship thinking it was a war no wonder you both fired shots.”

You stayed quiet. He was right.

Why had you walked in as if this was a war? If you loved Tom, why had this been a war?

He clenched his jaw, as he leaned against the counter. He looked back at the living room, seeing the whole mess. “What are you even doing?”

“I’m trying to fix everything, okay?” You sighed. “And everyone—I understand where he is coming from. I know. I made a horrible thing, and I hurt him—And now, he is alone and I don’t want him to be. He got drunk. And I don’t want anyone to hurt him—“

Timmy pinched the bridge of his nose. “Y/N why—“

“Because this is my fault, okay?” You snapped. “And I—And I hurt him and I can’t hurt someone I love.”

“I don’t understand,” Timmy admitted. He sighed, “you’re still in love with him,” he stated. “After that?”

“He was drunk, I—I did something very shitty, Tim.”

Timmy sighed. “Still—“

“I wrote a script basing it on this whole love—triangle or whatever it is—okay? He thinks I don’t love him, he didn’t read it. He thought I was dating him only because of the script where I wrote that I was technically fucking dating him to hurt him, a script where I called him a monster, a script in which—I said I dated him only to get revenge.”

Timmy watched you. “Oh.”

You chuckled. “I’m so stupid.”

“Can I read it?”

You hugged yourself. “I don’t know.”

Tim nodded. “You wrote about me, too?”

You had. You knew he wouldn’t be mad. You had written such beautiful things about him. But mostly, It was confusing. About how you regretted saying no, because maybe if he had waited you’d probably’ve said yes. If he had waited just a little bit longer. But not now. Sure, you loved Timmy. Like an old friend, like an old lover. Feelings are never really gone, you know? They transform. But—you wanted to be with Tom. Though it seemed impossible now.

“If I read it, would I be angry?” He asked.

“No,” you shook your head. Hurt, maybe. Confused, absolutely. But not angry.

“You wrote about Harry, from what I could tell,” he pointed out. “Do you love Harry?”

You took a deep breath. “He is my best friend,” you said. “You know it, I did have… feelings for a bit, but it’s like… When you said you had a crush on Emma, when you were younger.”

Timmy nodded. “Yeah, it’s easy to confuse friendship with something else,” he agreed. “Tom didn’t know about Harry?”

You shrugged. “I thought he did, I thought everyone did,” you nodded. “I didn’t hide it. I think that’s—that’s I don’t know. Look, he—He believes I never loved him.”

Timmy laughed. “Is he fucking blind?”

You chuckled. “I don’t blame him, the script—what I wrote was very very very cruel at the beginning.”

“Really?” He asked before going back to the freezer, he saw two pints of ice cream, he took them out, as well as two spoons, handing you one over.

“I initially started writing the script because I wanted to take revenge, that’s what the script says and that’s what I did.”

You stared at the ice cream, as you opened it.

“What?” he asked.

“I don’t know what I was planning to do. Break his heart—guess I’ve got that covered.”

“But?”

“But the script also explained a lot of things, my feelings for you and my feelings for Harry,” you took a spoonful of the ice cream.

“And?”

“And the script talks about my feelings about me—always choosing Tom no matter what.”

Timmy gulped. “Right.” He gulped. “Which really, I don’t know why.”

You shrugged. “The heart is stupid.”

He nodded. “Stubborn, stupid, irrational,” he admitted.

You bit your lip. “How’s Emma doing?”

Timmy gulped. “Yeah she’s — she’s not well.” He admitted.

“She doesn’t like me now, does she?” You asked.

Timmy bit his lip, staring at his ice cream. “Well, she always knew Harry did have something for you.”

“You told her?” You asked.

“No, never but, c’mon, it was obvious.”

And it was.

“And of course she doesn’t particularly like you right now, but she says that this isn’t really your fault, I mean,” he sighed. “Let’s say...Tom is on her list.”

“Yeah, everyone’s list right now.”

Timmy raised his brows. “He has a talent for fucking up.”

You sighed. “Tell me about it, he learned from me.”

He looked up and gave you a sad smile. “But you love him.”

You took another spoonful of ice cream. “I do.”

“Yikes.”

You punched him on the shoulder, he chuckled. “Shut up.”

You stayed quiet for a bit, wondering why he had come here. He wasn’t trying to win you back, or was he? Was he going to try to take advantage of the situation?

“Why are you here?” You asked him.

He looked up. “Because I know everyone is taking care of Emma, of Harry, even of Tom, but no one seemed to see if you were okay.”

“But I’m the bad guy,” you said.

He shrugged. “That doesn’t mean you deserve to be lonely.”

“But maybe I do, I was the one to fuck up.”

“Not really, well-- Not completely, I mean you did fuck up,” He agreed. “But he could’ve waited just not to fuck up his brother’s engagement.”

You sighed. “Are they still engaged?”

Timmy bit his lip.

“Because it’s not Harry’s fault,” you said. “Harry deserves to be happy, Emma deserves to be happy.”

“Dunno, Emma believes something happened with you and Harry,” Tim said. “And though I’ve tried to explain to her that even if something had happened, it would have been before they even met well but...She’s… I don’t blame her, Harry has been…”

“Harry?”

Tim sighed. “Harry has been quiet, absent.”

“He’s probably angry, hurt, at Tom,” you said.

“Emma says she wants to give the ring back—”Timmy sighed. “You could give her advice on that.”

You glared at him. “Tim.”

He laughed. “I’m trying to make you laugh.”

That made you smile.

“What would you do?” You asked eventually after you’d both stayed quiet for a while, just eating ice cream.

“Hm?”

“If you were in my place,” you pushed.

He sighed. “I’d… I honestly don't know.” He watched you. “I don’t know how bad the script is, so I don’t know, I mean.”

You bit your lip, and you walked to the living room, you stared at the pictures, the lipsticks, everything. Tim followed after, watching you as you sat on the floor. He sighed as he left to your room, he brought back your frog and then handed it over.

“You know, y/n, I’ve seen everything in this world, and then there’s you.”

You chuckled. “I’m a fucking mess.”

Tim sighed, sitting down on the floor with you. “Yeah.”

Timothée took a deep breath. “What’s your plan?”

You shook your head, “No, Tim, you don’t have to,” you sighed.

“Look, who else is going to help you?” He shrugged.

You watched him. “Timmy.”

He shrugged. “Look, I’m not…” He coughed. “Though it hurts, and if you… If he’s that stupid that you have to do a… What are you doing a... collage?”

You chuckled. “I don’t know.”

“Well, I might as well help you,” he shrugged. “If that makes you happy.”

And you knew Tim, he really wasn’t trying to pull a stunt right now. He knew you, after all, he’d met you in a dark time, and he knew how much you hated to be lonely. He was there because he meant it, to keep you company. He cooked for you, he stayed there making sure you were okay, and he made sure he made you smile.

The next day, you were ready. Timmy hadn’t really helped you with it, he had just kept you company. And then he had left.

And you’d stayed up all night, trying to figure it out. You had the flowers, you had the box. The last pages of your script. How could you prove to Tom you loved him? That it had been him. That it was him. That you were thankful he’d gone to Rome, even if you didn’t know why. That you were thankful after prom, that you had loved New York and every single kiss. That you hadn’t meant this.

You had the last pages of your script. You printed them. But still, this… You sighed, memories.

Memories.

You opened your laptop, maybe you did have the answer all along.

And so, with little hope and only with a half-apology, you went to search for Tom, with flowers, with a box full of polaroids, and with more things that would probably explain it to him that it was him.

You saw it, his car was there; but, were you ready to see him? You carried the flower arrangement you’d made him. Changing the story. Now it was you with yellow flowers, and with lavenders.

He didn’t open the door.

“Harrison.”

And he seemed angry. He probably hadn’t expected you there. He sighed, “I don’t think you should be here y/n.”

“But I should,” you said. “Let me... I need to explain it to him, I don’t care, look, the last time he didn’t talk to me, and look what happened.”

Haz shook his head. “He’s not here.” He tried to close the door.

“Haz I won’t buy that.” The flowers were heavy.

“I swear, he’s not here,” he continued. “Don’t know where he went.”

You looked at the car.

“Think he went out for a walk, you can check his room if you don’t believe it.”

You gulped. “I… can I drop this here, at least?”

Harrison stared at the flowers. “Yellow and lilac flowers?”

“Yes, please, Harrison, I really need to explain myself,” you said.

He hesitated, and you didn’t blame him. You knew Tom probably had told Haz what he’d read, and if someone had written something like that of Harry, you’d hate them too.

“Fine,” he eventually said and he took the flowers from you.

“And… I brought a box, too,” you said.

“I... I’ll help you with it,” Haz said with pity. You sighed as you headed to the car. You had a few pages too. An envelope. You didn’t even know why you were doing this.

“You.. you can come in,” Haz said. He offered you some water and you could tell he probably pitied your state, you looked like a mess.

“What’s that?” He asked.

“An explanation,” you said. “It’s got a script, and…” You gulped. “I don’t even know. I know he won’t see me.”

Haz nodded. “Yeah.”

“Have they...Talked? Harry and him?” You said. The worst you could think of this was rining a brother’s relationship. Especially their relationship.

Harrison sighed. “Everyone hates Tom right now.”

“And they shouldn’t,” you said.

Haz scrunched his nose as if he didn’t agree, not completely.

“Look,” Haz sighed. “I don’t think he’s to blame,” he started. “I…”

“Did he tell you about it?”

“Yeah,” he gulped. “And that was… You really fucked up, y/n, but I… I don’t know you that well, but I could tell you guys were in love… It’s no secret that you were in love with him, and look I understand, he hurt you, for a while but getting revenge?”

“It did start like that,” you confessed. “But, while it started like that I never… I never believed he��d love me, you know? I never fully believed that that’s maybe why I wrote some things because I was too scared, and in a way, I was conning myself, into tricking myself I would be getting revenge when in reality it was just me actually trying, you really think I would’ve slept with him in the first place if I didn’t initially have some kind of attraction? It was a script, sure, it was a story, but I think I was telling myself that just so I could enjoy it, you know? Because he’s…It’s him, I was making myself believe I didn’t love him because I always feared he’d break me again, and… and, before you say anything, I know, I know, it’s fucked up, and I’m not trying to justify myself, but I… That’s the Tom I knew, you know? The guy who’ll use my words as his weapon, which he... Technically did end up doing, I told him that I didn’t want to be lonely, and he said I deserved it. I wrote in that script that what I’d fear the most with him is that it was like last time, when he only pretended to love me, and he said it again, how he was pretending,” you gulped as you rested your face against your fist. “And maybe I did it because it was a way to shield myself?” You paused.

Haz was quiet.

“My heart was so broken that it built up walls around them, and I guess I wanted to give it another chance, because it’s him, it’s always him, no matter how bad he hurt me before I still wanted to give it a chance, and maybe that’s the script, the shield I’d use for myself, initially, to say that it was only for a story if he was the one to hurt me. To say that it was the only perfidy if he hurt me. But I didn’t want to hurt him,” you stared at the glass of water. “And I get it, I was building a weapon because I thought this was a war, and it shouldn’t have been one. He’s not an enemy. He is the guy I’ve been in love with my whole life.”

Harrison kept quiet, longer. Then he stared at the envelope. “Does it say that in there?”

“Yes, and a lot of things more,” you cleared your throat. “Because he… I understand he’s hurt but saying I’ve never loved him,” you bit your lip. “He can be mad at me for everything else, but saying I’ve never loved him, that’s just…”

“What about Harry?”

You bit your lip. “Why does it matter if I had feelings for Harry at some point?”

“He always knew Harry was in love with you,” He explained. “I… I know the reason behind everything.”

“There is a reason, then?” You scoffed.

“He knew it, and he knew that the worst thing he’s ever done is what he did to you,” Haz said. “And now I know. After that club night, right? When you were back from Rome, you started dating, and that night he broke your heart.”

“Yes,” you nodded. “And then he said he was only dating me as a prank, he said that he’d never date someone like me.”

“He did it because he always feared this, I’m not trying to justify him” he explained. “But he said it. How you were supposed to be in love with Harry, and how he was always watching you both, happily. But you always chose Tom.”

“I did.”

“But he feared you’d realize it one day, that you and Harry were… more suited for each other, and that Harry was the good guy, Harry was the nice guy, and so he, in his stupid attempt to make you fall in love with Harry, he kept pushing you away, and he felt guilty.”

“Why did he go to Rome, then?” You frowned. “None of that would’ve happened if he hadn’t gone to Rome.”

“I don’t know why he did,” Haz confessed. “But he felt guilty, because you had feelings for Harry, and he took it away, and he felt… guilty, because if he hadn’t gone to Rome, what would’ve happened with Harry?”

“But you can’t live with ‘what if’s,” you pushed. “And… even if… He hadn’t come... I don’t think Harry and I could ever..”

“How do you know that?” Harrison asked.

“Harrison.”

“Look, y/n, I’m just asking this to give you time to think for an answer, if Tom does talk to you, I know he’d ask this.”

You looked away. “I don’t know.”

“That’s what’s bothering Tom,” Harrison explained. “That he feels like he took away his brother's happiness.”

“And he did anyway, I’m not Harry’s happiness, it’s Emma, even after everything, it wouldn’t matter because Harry was supposed to marry Emma,” you frowned.

Haz nodded. “I know that. Harry is over you, but Tom… I think deep inside he did it because he wanted to give you and Harry a second chance.”

“That’s bullshit,” you snapped, then shook your head. “Sorry, this isn’t with you.”

“No, I know, and you’re right, but… I don’t think Tom came from a bad place, he’s willing to give you up.”

“But I love him,” you whimpered. “I love him, I love Tom and I… It’s him.”

Harrison sighed. “I know y/n, I’m just trying to make you understand it.”

You bit your lip. “I’m… I’m leaving.”

“Tom will soon be back from his walk, don’t you want to wait?” He asked.

“I need to… Process this, but please, make sure he reads it, and that he watches it,” you sighed. “No, wait…Can I go to his room?”

Haz hesitated again, closing his eyes. “I… Yeah, what for?”

You took out an old DVD from the envelope. “To put this on.”

You went to his room, you knew he still had an old DVD, for movies he knew weren’t on platforms, and you knew he liked the DVDs. His room felt cold, too. Messy. You could tell he wasn’t okay. You put the DVD on and paused it. You really hoped he’d press play when he was back. You left the box in his room and then left the envelope on his nightstand.

You said goodbye to Harrison and left to be alone with your thoughts again. The only thing you liked about loneliness was it gave you time to think, to process this. You could go to the park and not be bothered, and you could drive hours and hours, and nobody would call expecting you to go anywhere. It could give you some sense to bring answers, though the traffic lights never told you anything. No answers. Nobody would have the answer.

And you knew it, you wouldn’t get any answers, and you knew Tom probably wouldn’t forgive you, but at least you needed him to know. He deserved to know.

And you knew what would come, you’d be staring at windows, you’d write but you wouldn’t like it. You knew it, it was coming, what you feared the most. The nights wouldn’t come and if they did, you wouldn’t sleep. Faces would remind you of him but it would never be him again.

You saw it coming. Wanting to get rid of clothes you’d worn with him, and clothes he had taken off. Wanting a new skin because he’d kissed every spot, and the lipsticks because you’d stained his body with them. It was as if your body was full of scars, of tattoos of his kisses that were now removed. And now you couldn’t listen to those songs, you wouldn’t want to watch another movie with New York. You’d never buy the same wine again. Nothing.

You’d have to get rid of that perfume. And nothing made sense. And you’d have to pretend you were fine, because what would you win by letting the world you’d fucked up?

You had to start again.

You needed a new body , a new soul a new heart because this would hurt all the time. Your pride, your love, your feelings.

Because Tom had said you didn’t love him. Yes, you had played your own part in this. But it was too late now. Because he didn’t get it. Tom had forced you to find love somewhere else. Did he not see it? That you had been so broken that you had turned to the only light you had.

But then—what about Harry? Because you couldn’t say you never felt anything. And you couldn’t say that you hadn’t stopped yourself because you had feared you’d lose him. Because losing Harry, that you couldn’t afford.

But you were thinking about it, the ‘what if’. You couldn’t live there, not dwelling with the past.

Because with Harry it was too late, now. It had been for a while. And now he probably would be gone. And you didn’t have him there to hug you, to tell you all of this would be right. He wouldn’t be there now.

But there was someone else who deserved an explanation. You called him.

“I was going to ask why the hell you asked me here, but--” Harry had arrived at the park. And he wasn’t late, he had come. He had answered. He had come.

You were sitting at that park bench, you stood up as you saw him. He was a mess, too. Seemed like everyone was still recovering from the battle. You ran out of breath as you saw him, you didn’t know why your arms immediately wrapped around him in a hug, he hesitated but hugged you back, strongly.

He let you go.

“I’m sorry,” you said.

“Why am I here?” He asked.

“I needed to give you this,” you said as you took it out. The printed script.

He gulped, staring at it, knowing exactly what it was. “I need to—I need an explanation.”

You nodded. “You deserve one.”

He coughed. “Yes I fucking deserve a bloody explanation y/n,” he lamented, he walked away from you “I can’t—I didn’t even have feelings for you anymore.”

That was what you didn’t want to hear. He couldn’t have feelings for you again. “Harry I’m—”

“No, no, y/n, right now,” He took a deep breath. “You didn’t call. You didn’t call me, or Tom or… Nobody, I need you to listen to me right now, and then I need you to answer my questions because I can’t… God, I love Emma.”

That was a relief. He loved Emma.

“This was all so bloody happy, I was happy, I was okay, I was happy, but it was too good,” he closed his eyes and shook his head. “Too perfect. Wasn’t it?” He asked, to the sky, not to you. “I just couldn’t be this happy, too good to be true. Innit?” You saw him playing with his tongue, probably licking all his inner cheeks. “But I don’t—Y/N, I can’t—I can’t get married right now. Emma is not speaking to me,” he gulped. “I mean I haven’t really…”He sat on the bench where you had once sat.

A very nice park for the awful conversation you were having.

You didn’t know what to say now.

He rested his face against his hands, he was stressed. His foot kept tapping. “I…” He gulped as he looked up, then he avoided your gaze. “I spent my whole life loving you. All my life, I’ve—I’ve been there.”

This was the first time you’ve heard him say it. He had never said it before. Not what this meant.

“And look, I was bloody fine with you choosing Tom, okay?” He looked up at you. He blew his cheeks. “Every. Single. Bloody time,” he snorted. “And I had to suck up my feelings you know? Never say anything and then—” He licked his lips. “why is this happening? Why did you have to say it now?” He asked you, now staring at you. “Fuck, you didn’t even say it, that’s just it, makes it even worse, right?” He frowned. He let out a long, loud sigh. “You wanted to keep that, or maybe you didn’t, because... “ He looked down at the script. “You wrote it didn’t you, and it’d be out there for the world to know, and you’re giving it to me now, meaning that you want me to know.”

“I want to fix this, okay? I want to bloody fix this! I can’t—-lYou gulped. But he didn’t understand this. But maybe he was right, were you jeopardizing his happiness with this, too?

“I don’t even have feelings for you,” he stated. “But now I’ll always have that bloody thought in the back of my head, what would’ve happened? The fucking ‘what if’.”

“Harry. I know. I bloody know—But I cant fucking—“

“No, no, listen y/n. I—I did a lot of things for you, okay?” He closed his eyes. “I spent my entire life trying to—I don’t even know, I changed myself for you,” he pinched the bridge of his nose, he stood up and paced around the bench, then rested his hands against it. “I’ve loved you since we were kids,” he whispered. “And I had to see you—And it hurt,” he paused. “And it hurt so much, that I had to—I can’t—I couldn’t help it,” he shook his head. “I tried to stop my feelings and they were never gone,” he pursed his lips. “And I kept them to myself as I could, knowing that I’d rather never have you love me back than to lose you forever,” he admitted.

“You think I didn’t fear losing you, too? That’s why I’m here! Because I can’t afford losing you!” You didn’t know what to say to him, because it hurt. Because it hurt that you had hurt him. But you knew that every time that you had tried to love him, you’d go back to Tom, and you’d keep going back.

“And now—And you know, then along came Emma,” he smiled sadly. “And I didn’t have to do anything,” he explained. “I didn’t have to change, I didn’t have to beg for her love and I loved her,” he stood back up, crossing his arms. “And I love her truly and deeply, and—And now she believes I’ll give up everything for you,” he sounded exasperated. “And—And, I won’t… But there’s still that voice in my head saying I will. Why the hell do I think I’ll do that too?”

“Harry, no, Emma is the right choice, please,” you pleaded. “Let’s—Lets.”

“I know she is, and I don’t want to give her up, I don’t want to,” he ran a hand through his hair. “But there’s a part of me that knows I will always come back to you.”

“Harry,” you couldn’t say anything, no words were coming out. You couldn’t even know what to think of this. “You are supposed to be with Emma. This is—“

“But was Tom telling the truth? I—I—is it true?” He asked. “I don’t even know if it’s true.”

“What?” You were barely breathing now.

“Did you…” He closed his eyes. “Did ever have feelings for me? And tell me the truth I don’t want any more secrets.”

You didn’t answer right away. But he wanted the truth. “Yes, I did have feelings for you.”

He held his head. “Don’t say that!”

“You told me to—”

“But… Why? Don’t say that! Not when I was supposed to marry her—When I am supposed to marry her.”

“Well that’s what bloody happened! I’m not lying anymore! I don’t want to keep things because look where it fucking led—“

“And it’s not that I want to be with you,” he was talking faster now, nervously. “I got over you and it was—-So bloody hard at first,” he admitted. “Seeing you always crushing on Tom, always him which really—Why the hell do you love him when he—does that? He’s— awful.”

“Don’t say that! He’s not awful,” you quickly defended Tom. Not sure why, Tom wouldn’t care if you defended him. “This was on me.”

“But why--Fuck, why?” He plopped back on the bench. “No, but y/n, I just—I need a bigger explanation.”

“It’s— what I’m bloody trying to—You think I brought that script for nothing?”

He interrupted again. “You don’t understand y/n, how much it hurt and—to know you did have feelings for me.”

“And you think I—“

“But… But!” He sounded crazy now. “I know those feelings are long gone,” he said, and nodded to himself. “Well, mine are. And we wouldn’t work.”

“No we wouldn’t.”

You waited for him to keep talking, knowing he was venting, and knowing he needed to clear it out.

“I just need you to understand that this is—” He widened his eyes, and shook his head. “It’s… “ he blew a raspberry. “And I’m angry at you,” he said. “Because—It’s supposed to be Emma.” He said. “It’s not you. Even if I tried it for so long, it’s —supposed to be Emma. But you—you said I shouldn’t marry her.”

You closed your eyes. “I did but it’s… A different situation, I said that as your friend, okay?” You lied. “I thought you weren’t bloody ready, but—That didn’t mean, I don’t even know why I said it okay? I was too confused that fucking day! I had just slept with Tom, and you bloody say it? That you want to get married? It was insane, Harry!”

He stayed silent for a while, staring at the script in his hands, he played with the paper.

“Are you going to say anything?” You snapped.

“When did you have feelings for me?”

“Before Rome and—“

“And?”

“Before Rome.”

He bit his inner cheeks. “We never talked after that”

“I know.”

“Was there even a conversation to be had?” He scoffed.

“I don’t know,” you scowled. “but there is one now, you need to be happy—“

“I can’t live like this, y/n,” he closed his eyes. “The fucking ‘what if’.” He sighed as he stood up. He took the script and then started to walk away.

“Harry, no, wait—We are not done talking.” You followed after him, you couldn’t let him go away without an explanation.

But as he turned around, and before you could even continue saying anything, his hands had pulled your face and his lips hand landed on yours.

IF YOU’RE GOING TO SEND AN ASK PLEASE REFER TO THAT ENDING AS ‘WATERMELON’ let’s not spoil it for everyone else 🍉

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heauxplesslydevoted · 4 years

Text

Green-Eyed Monster (Ethan x MC)

Summary: During a fundraising event for Edenbrook, Ethan’s jealousy gets the better of him.

Warning: NSFW!! 18+

Author’s Note: I wrote this 3 times. I hope you enjoy

2nd Author’s Note: Ethan is canonically rich. And I like reminding y’all of that fact.

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~v~

The ballroom of the Four Seasons is lit beautifully, the Dom Perignon is flowing freely, and he has some sort of fancy crab cake in his hand, but Ethan couldn’t care less about any of it.

He hates parties. That’s not a secret, everyone knows it and he’s always been vocal about it. The board thought getting all of Boston’s elite hoarded into one room was a sure fire way to get them to open their pockets. And by the looks of it, it is working. But Ethan doesn’t care. He doesn’t care about the pomp, the circumstance, the luxury of this ball, or the money that went into it.

He has eyes one one thing, and one thing only. Or, one woman only. Naomi Valentine.

There aren’t enough words in any of the languages he’s fluent in to describe the way she looks. Her normally curly hair is bone straight, falling right down her back, a few strands tucked behind her ears. He likes it like this, his view of her face unobstructed.

And her dress. Scarlet red, downright sinful, the neckline so deep and plunging, it shouldn’t be legal to wear it in public, the material clinging to her like a second skin.

He’s been quietly observing her all evening, watching as various men - and some women - fawned over her, flirted with her, flaunting their wealth, as if she cared about any of it. The only thing Naomi wants is for these people to write checks and save their place of employment.

She danced with politicians, attorneys, trust fund babies, real estate developers, the works. She’s currently swaying on the dance floor with some guy, though he can she’s not into the dance. The mystery man is talking, but he’s not holding her attention, not in the slightest.

But the mystery man makes a mistake. Ethan watches as his hand slides down her back, landing on the swell of her behind. Not wanting to cause a scene, Naomi simply twists out of his grasp.

Naomi has the situation under control. He sees that clearly, but Ethan doesn’t care. He doesn’t like that someone else is touching her, especially so intimately. Anger swells in the pit of his stomach.

He can’t stop him himself, even though he knows he should. He gets up from his seat at the bar, leaving the tiny crab cake, and marches over to where they’re at.

Wanting to make his presence known, Ethan clears his throat. The action garners Naomi’s attention and she stops dancing.

“Ethan!” She exclaims brightly. “How nice to see you.”

“Rookie,” Ethan greets back, purposely ignoring the man she’s standing next to. “Care to dance?”

“She’s a little busy, pal!” Ethan hears the man talking, his shrill voice a nuisance in Ethan’s ear, but still he pays it no mind.

Naomi is nicer than him though. She smiles at the other gentleman politely. “I’ll save a dance for you, Carl! And you can tell me all about your new yacht.”

That seems to do the trick as the man steps aside and walks off.

Ethan holds out a hand for Naomi, which she eagerly accepts. They begin swaying in time to the music. “You looked like you needed a save. That guy was too handsy.”

“I was managing him just fine, but thank you anyway,” Naomi replies. “He was just so dull. Most of these people are.”

“I’d never know it by looking at you. You have a much better poker face than I do.”

“I grew up around people like this. I know how they operate. Give them a few well-placed compliments, and they’re putty in your hands.”

Ethan doesn’t have a reply for her. He just holds her close, vaguely aware of their surroundings. “Have I mentioned how beautiful you look tonight?”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. Red looks good on you.”

“It happens to be my boyfriend’s favorite color,” Naomi explains, her hand mindlessly stroking the back of Ethan’s tuxedo jacket. “I wanted something to really wow him tonight. Do you think it’s working?”

“Oh you have no idea how well your plan is working, Rookie.”

She pulls back only slightly, looking at Ethan’s face. His blue eyes have grown darker. “I think I have some idea the effect I have on him.”

Three months. It’s been three months since that fateful night at Ethan’s apartment where he kissed her. After that, the doctors decided to see if their mutual attraction towards one another was worth exploring.

And while no one else knows of the relationship, opting to keep it just between them for as long as they could, Naomi and Ethan had never been happier.

“You look so beautiful tonight, and every guy in here is ogling you.”

“Ogling?” Naomi rolls her eyes. Ethan could be so dramatic when he wanted.

“Yes, ogling. I’m not a fan of it.”

“Well, you’re going to absolutely hate what happens later,” Naomi says with a sigh.

“Why, what happens later?”

“The auction.” Naomi swallows hard. “I’m one of the doctors participating in the people auction.”

“What?”

“My friends all volunteered, and they signed me up as well. I couldn’t say no, they all think I’m single and it’d just raise too many questions.”

Ethan frowns. The thought of these rich scumbags fighting over a chance to take his girlfriend out on a date didn’t sit well with him. It was annoying enough not being the only one she danced with throughout the evening.

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner,” Naomi continues. “But they sprung it on me yesterday, and I knew you would be upset. Please don’t be mad at me.”

He sighs. “I’m not mad at you. I just don’t want anyone else getting a chance to wine and dine you.”

“You worried I’m going to leave you for one of these pretentious bores?” Naomi smiles, teasingly. “You know better than anyone that rich and old happens to be my type.”

Ethan’s hand travels down the small of her back, and he feels her shudder under his featherlight touch. “What did I tell you about calling me old, Naomi?”

“I like seeing you jealous,” Naomi continues.

“Is that right? Was that your plan all along, to make me envious of the other people here tonight?”

She shakes her head. “No, it happens to be an unintended outcome of the evening, but I’m happy nonetheless.”

Without warning, Ethan pulls Naomi flush against him. A quiet groan escapes her upon contact with him. She looks around to see if anyone heard anything. Thankfully, everyone else is too wrapped up in their own dancing.

Ethan lowers his head close to her ear, just to make sure no one else is listening. His breath is warm on her neck and he feels her shift her weight from one foot to the other, squirming. “I’m really tired of sharing you.”

“Oh, really?” Ethan can hear the challenge in her tone. “Well, there’s still a few more hours left in the evening. I think you can be a team player until then.”

“But I don’t want to be a team player.” His hand is on her hip, squeezing so fiercely through her dress, Naomi is sure she’s going to bruise. She likes it. “You, in this god forsaken dress, waltzing around here with men that would kill for even 5 minutes alone with you? How ever will I survive?”

“You’re a patient man,” Naomi says. “You’ll manage.”

Ethan spins Naomi away from him, and she twirls back into his arms. The song that’s playing reaches its crescendo, and he can tell it’ll be over soon. “I won’t. I want you all to myself.”

“Yeah?”

“I want you, all alone with me, in our room,” Ethan whispers.

Naomi surprised him earlier, getting them a suite for the evening. She knew that with all the drinking they’d be doing, driving home was going to be impossible. Plus, it’d be a fun little retreat, a romantic night for just the two of them.

“I want you out of this dress,” Ethan continues. “I want you under me, writhing uncontrollably.”

“Ethan…”

“Saying my name, just like that. Or louder, I’m not a picky man.”

Thank God he’s holding her, because her knees are buckling. Liquid heat pools in the pit of her stomach, and she rests her head on Ethan’s shoulder. She pants hard, trying to keep her composure. They’re in a crowded room, full of colleagues and Boston’s most influential residents, and she’s getting dizzy with desire.

“That sounds fun.”

“You think you can make it upstairs in 10 minutes?” Ethan asks. The song ends and he steps back, letting Naomi go. She wobbles slightly, adjusting to standing on her own two feet.

Once she’s steady, Naomi clears her throat and locks eyes with the man in front of her. “I’ll meet you there in 7.”

~v~

Naomi makes it to their suite in 6 minutes, tops. As soon as she saw him swagger out of the ballroom like the smug jackass that he is, she grabbed another champagne flute and quickly downed it, letting the bubbles coat her tongue. Once she’s done with that, she makes her own exit and heads off to meet Ethan.

Their suite is lovely, with a gorgeous view of Boston Common. On any other day, Naomi would be able to appreciate that, but not now.

She pushes open the double doors to their bedroom, and she finds Ethan. He’s staring out the window thoughtfully, but her entrance gains his attention.

He checks his watch with a smirk. “You got here sooner than I anticipated.”

“What can I say? You were down there making some pretty hefty claims. I had to see if you were really going to put your money where your mouth is.”

“I plan on putting my mouth on a lot of different places, Rookie.” Ethan shrugs off his tuxedo jacket, tossing it onto a nearby chair and he loosens the cuffs of his shirt. Slowly, he walks over to the large king-sized bed and sits casually. Crooking a finger, he summons Naomi over, and she nearly trips over herself in a rush to be near him.

Neither one of them speaks as Ethan silently appraises his girlfriend, figuring out where to start first.

He picks her feet, and he bends down, his fingers reaching her ankle where the shoes are strapped. “How attached are you to these shoes?”

Of all the things he could’ve said, that wasn’t what she was expecting. “W-what?”

“I’m trying to figure out how much care I should exercise with them,” Ethan explains.

“They’re Aquazzura and they cost me $800. If you break the strap or the heel, I can’t be held responsible for whatever harm comes your way.”

“Even if I replace them?”

“Even then.”

“Fair enough.” Ethan carefully unbuckles her heels and she steps out of them. He trails a finger up and down the back of her calf, reveling in the softness of her skin before looking up at her. “Take off your dress.”

“You don’t want to do the honors?”

“Trust me, I do. But if I get my hands on it, I can’t promise that I won’t rip it off of you.”

Naomi’s very tempted to let him do just that, but she reaches around and unzips it herself. It falls to the floor in one fell swoop, and she steps out of it.

The dress didn’t call for a bra, so Ethan is rewarded with an uninterrupted view of her. He sucks in a deep breath at the sight. Naomi in that dress was a vision, but this is her in his favorite form.

He hooks his fingers into the waistband of her thong and he slides it down. She does the rest of the work and impatiently kicks it away.

And now she’s just standing here, stark naked, subject to his piercing gaze while he’s still fully dressed. The obviousness of the power dynamic makes her shift uncomfortably.

Ethan grabs her hips and pulls her forward, so she can straddle his lap. His hands find her face and he cradles it. “You’re so beautiful.” His mouth crashes against hers, not allowing her the chance to reply to the compliment.

Naomi grabs hold of his shoulders in order to not fly backwards due to sheer force. Ethan set an undeniable tone. Urgent, hot, demanding. His hands keep her in place, locked in the sensual embrace. Not that she’d ever willingly leave his arms, now or ever.

His tongue invades her mouth, clashing with her own and he groans. He can still taste the champagne on her, something light and bubbly. It’s intoxicating.

All too soon, Ethan breaks the kiss, leaving Naomi breathless and buzzing with energy. His hands leave her face and roam freely, exploring.

“I have a challenge for you,” he says, his lips finding the column of her neck.

He sucks on her pulse, and she finds it hard to concentrate. “Huh?”

“I want you to stay quiet. Absolutely no sounds.”

“I thought you wanted me saying your name.”

“You will,” Ethan assures her, and the promise makes her stomach clench. “But right now I want you to be quiet.”

“And if I don’t keep quiet?” Naomi challenges. Ethan cups one of her breasts in the palm of his hand and squeezes, the pad of his thumb circling her nipple.

“Then you don’t get to cum. I go back downstairs and I leave you here like this.”

“You wouldn’t dare.”

With a raised eyebrow, Ethan pulls at her nipple, twisting it between his thumb and index finger. Naomi gasps. “Are you willing to challenge me on that?”

Naomi’s head is fuzzy but she swallows hard. She nods, not willing to test him on this front. “Fine. I’ll be quiet.”

Ethan smiles. “Good.” He kisses her with a renewed energy and his unoccupied hand travels down to her thigh, his nails scraping against the flesh.

Naomi bucks in his lap. She’s shaking and her fingers are digging into his shoulders. The anticipation of what he’s going to do is killing her and she’s almost afraid to breathe.

His finger slides between her thighs teasingly, and before she gets a chance to respond, Ethan slides a single digit between her folds. It catches her by surprise and she gasps.

Ethan tsks one disapproval. “Silence, Naomi.”

Fuck you, she thinks, but she obeys regardless. Her nails dig deeper into his shoulder blades and she tries her hardest to stay quiet.

He moves at an unnaturally slow pace, not allowing Naomi to settle into a rhythm. Any other time, she’d spur him on. “Harder, deeper, more,” is what she wants to say, but he’s cursed her with silence. Instead she buries her face in the crook of his neck.

Ethan continues his torture, enjoying the view. A hot and bothered Naomi is a sight unrivaled, and he’d keep her like this forever if it was possible. He can feel the tension rolling off of her in waves, all the muscles in her thighs and abdomen tight with the effort it’s taking to keep quiet.

He adds another finger and groans. “Fuck, Rookie. You feel so good. So tight, so wet, and all for me.”

She needs to breathe. Her lungs are tight, her chest heaving against his, but he has her walking a tightrope right now, and one false move can end it all.

“You’re so beautiful like this,” Ethan continues, the rough pad of his thumb sliding against once, twice, three times. “And you’re all mine. How did I get so lucky?”

Naomi’s skin flushes furiously. He knows she’s has kink for him talking during sex. On their volition her hips rise and fall, rise and fall, trying to keep pace with him. As soon as she does, his fingers slow down, dragging her from the edge of ecstasy, before speeding up again.

He does this repeatedly, the randomness of his movements making her head spin. Every nerve in her body is on fire, and she can feel the pressure building in the pit of her stomach.

So close, so close, don’t stop, plays in her head on a continuous loop as Ethan keeps working against her. The pressure builds, a heat settling in her veins and before she can stop herself a quiet, “Yes,” slips past her lips.

The energy in the room changed instantly. Ethan stills his fingers, then removes them, and Naomi feels the panic bubbling up and she pulls back to look Ethan in the eye.

“Oh, Naomi,” Ethan frowns.

“Don’t stop.”

“You violated the deal, Rookie. You were supposed to be quiet.”

She could cry in this moment, the frustration too much to bear.

“And you were doing so good,” Ethan adds, kissing the side of her head. “You were so close, weren’t you?” He toys with her, his finger sliding up and down her slit, doing nothing more than teasing her entrance.

When she’s back to herself, and not the ridiculous mess of flesh and lust that he’s reduced her to, she’s going to fucking kill him.

A whimper is pulled from her throat when his fingers plunge into her again.

“Come on, Naomi, I’m allowing you to use your words. Tell me how close you are. Let me know how badly you want to cum. You’re right there.”

Naomi really doesn’t not want to give him the satisfaction of begging, stroking his ridiculous ego, but there’s no room for foolish pride when your boyfriend has his hand between your legs.

She moans, broken and terse. Now that she’s finally allowed to talk again, words escape her.

“Please…” is the only speech she’s finally able to muster up. Groundbreaking.

“Please, what? What do you want me to do to you?” His finger thrusts into her again without warning, slow and languid. “Do you want me to do more of this?”

“Yes! Ethan, please dontfuckingstop!” She’s not sure if the words are coherent, but she doesn’t care. She got them out, and that’s what matters.

Ethan smiles, his mission accomplished. “See? That wasn’t so hard, was it?”

The teasing doesn’t register because all Naomi can focus on is the pounding of her pulse, the feeling of his hands, the smell of his cologne. She can feel it building again, the fire deep in her core. She’s so close. So cl–

He stops. Again. This time, he wraps an arm around the small of her back and flips them, Naomi’s back hitting the soft down comforter dramatically.

Now she wants to scream at him. “Ethan, I seriously cannot–”

Ethan doesn’t give her a chance to chastise him because in a flash, he’s dropped to his knees, his hands on her ankles pulling her forward on the bed with an unexpected roughness.

“Be as loud as you want now, Naomi. I think you’ve more than earned it.”

His beard scrapes against her inner thigh, and god, she’s glad she convinced him to keep it. Slowly his tongue darts out, flattening against her folds.

Her hips fly off the bed against her will, arching to meet his mouth. Grabbing a fistful of his hair, Naomi pulls, keeping him in place. “Fuck!”

The expletive works as encouragement and Ethan continues this work, his tongue alternating between expertly lapping at her folds and flicking against her clit. Naomi grips his hair tighter, earring a deep growl from Ethan. The vibration alone is enough to send her flying.

“Please, right there,” Naomi begs. If he kept it up just a little while longer, she’d finally get to taste the release he’s denied her.

His fingers nudge at her entrance again, sliding in with ease, and lips wrap around her swollen nub and he sucks hard, and that’s all it takes.

Her orgasm is something that’s long and drawn out, a culmination of teasing, anticipation and sheer relief. Her entire body goes tense as the sensation holds her in a vice grip, and then finally, she relaxes, falling back onto the bed.

“You okay?”

She can’t tell if Ethan’s genuinely asking or if he’s being cocky. It doesn’t matter either way. “I’m dead. You killed me. RIP Naomi.”

“Yeah?”

Naomi nods. “Yeah.”

“Good. Because we’re just getting started, Valentine.”

Ethan stands up and quickly unbuttons his shirt, letting it slide to the floor next to her dress. Next are his shoes and pants. Any other time, Naomi would be right there with him, on him liking a second skin, helping him get rid of the clothes, but every bone in her body feels like it’s been replaced with Jell-O. She’s content just watching this time around.

He slides his boxer-briefs off, not intentionally putting on a show, but Naomi can’t help but stare. For all the compliments he pays her, Ethan, naked and painfully hard with arousal for her and her alone, is a masterpiece.

In a flash, he’s all over her, his hands interlocking with hers above her head, pressing her into the mattress. Ethan captures her in a heated kiss the moment he enters her, swallowing whatever guttural sound she was going to make.

His thrusts start out slow and measured, but they quickly grow more frenzied as his control over the situation slips. Naomi arches, desperate to meet his pace, but she’s crushed under him, pretty much immobile.

Needing to do something, Naomi swings her thigh over him, the heel of her foot pressing into his lower back. The pressure forces him deeper, something she didn’t think was possible.

Her head snaps back pressing further into the mattress and Ethan takes advantage, his mouth finding purchase on the exposed skin, planting hot, open-mouthed kisses along the column of her neck before sinking his teeth in, biting down hard before soothing the flesh with his tongue.

That’s going to leave a mark, but that’s nothing Naomi can bring herself to care about because the mix of pain and pleasure is heady and all-consuming.

The obnoxious bite is a sign. He wants to claim her, mark his territory. She knows he has a possessive streak, but this is new.7

“Ethan, oh god.”

She can feel him smirking against her, and his thrusts pick up in tempo once more. “Say it again,” he demands, groaning into her skin.

“Ethan,” Naomi repeats, her voice going up an octave. He’s about to make her cum again, she can feel it.

He frees her hands, and while she enjoyed the intimacy of the position, she’s glad to be free. Her hands roam, one gripping the hair at the nape of his neck, the other digging into his shoulder blade. His hands grip her hips, somehow pulling her even closer.

“How close are you?” Ethan asks, his voice gruff.

“V-very.”

The thrusts become sloppier as they both chase the inevitable release. Soon the only sounds that can be heard are their shallow breaths and their slick skin colliding against each other.

Fire floods Ethan’s veins and he reaches between them, pinching at her bundle of nerves once more. A pleasant growl settles in his chest at the way she clenches around him.

“Let go, Naomi,” Ethan demands. “Right now.”

The command is more than enough to send her over the edge again, her body tensing, toes curling. She comes undone with a silent cry, her nails piercing into the skin of his back.

Her release triggers his own. It doesn’t take much, one more deep thrust and he moans, spilling inside of her, hot and urgent.

He rolls off of her and Naomi inhales deeply, not realizing just how crushing his weight was. Neither one of them says anything for a while, just trying to catch their breath and get their heart rates back down.

“Fuck,” Naomi says, still shaky and breathless. She turns her head and looks at Ethan with a smirk. “I should get you jealous more often.”

~v~

The couple takes their time getting dressed again, not yet ready to go back downstairs. They lazed around in bed for a while before taking the world’s quickest shower and searching for their clothes that are scattered around the suite.

“How long have we been gone?” Naomi asks, sliding on her shoes.

“Too long.”

“I know my friends are wondering where the hell I am.”

“I’m sure you’ll find an excuse.”

“Of course. I’m nothing if not quick on my feet.” Naomi turns around and sees Ethan readjusting his bow tie in the mirror. She walks over and leans into his side. “Is it bad that I just want to stay up here with you?”

“Don’t tempt me.”

“What if I want to tempt you?”

Ethan groans and drops a kiss onto the side of Naomi’s head. “You little seductress. Don’t you have an auction to be a part of?”

“About that, I wasn’t thinking. If you’re really uncomfortable, I won’t do it.”

Ethan dismisses the statement with a hand wave. “Nonsense. You’re a big girl, I trust you, and if you want to do it, you should. Besides, I have a feeling you’re going to make this hospital a lot of money.”

“Okay.” She spins around and poses dramatically. “How do I look?

“Like you just got thoroughly ravished by your boyfriend. Absolutely perfect.”

Naomi makes it back down to the ballroom by herself. It’s later in the evening, so more people are out on the dance floor, and the drinks are still flowing.

Sienna is the first one to spot her. “There you are! I’ve been looking all over for you. Were you getting any of my texts?”

“Sorry, Si. I haven’t checked my phone all night.”

“Where the heck have you been?” She asks.

Naomi shrugs, noncommittal. “Wandering around mostly. This hotel is huge, I almost got lost.”

“What happened to your hair?”

Naomi touches the crown of her head. While she was getting freshened up, the humidity of the shower made her curls come back, so she decided to throw it in a messy bun.

“I got really warm,” Naomi explains. “It was too much effort to keep it down, and it was making my neck and back hot.”

Sienna seems to believe the excuse because she simply shrugs and nods. “Okay!” She grabs Naomi’s hand and drags her along. “Come one, Dr. Banerji says it’s almost time to start the auction.”

All of the people participating in the people auction line up on stage, as Naveen acts as the emcee.

It wasn’t just people auctioning themselves off for dates. A Celtics player offered up seats in the VIP suite at their arena, restaurants offering certificates to get private dining experiences, Ethan even offered up his box seats at the Citizens Bank Opera House for one evening.

When they got to actually auctioning off dates, Bryce was naturally a hit, with two women bidding back and forth until $1500 was reached.

“And for our next participant of the evening, we have Dr. Naomi Valentine!”

Naomi steps up to the podium next to Naveen and she’s met with polite applause from the audience. She’s never been shy before, but being part of the crowd and looking down on them are two different experiences.

“Let’s start the bidding at $100.”

“$100!”

“$150!”

“$150, do I hear $200?”

“$250!”

“Someone’s eager!” Naveen teases. “How about $275?”

$400!”

“$450!”

This goes on for a while, various men throwing out numbers, vying for Naomi’s hand.

“$2000!” Naomi scans the crowd and sees it's the guy she was dancing with earlier before Ethan cut in Carl Something or Another.

“$2000! $2000 going once, going twice–”

“$15,000!”

The number is so not what Naomi was expecting to hear, she nearly loses her balance. Holy shit, someone wanted to spend that much money? On her?

Murmurs fill the crowd as the guests all turn to one another, gossiping aloud.

“$15,000 going once, going twice, sold!” Naveen scans the audience and chuckles. “Sold to Edenbrooks’ very own Dr. Ethan Ramsey! Step up and come greet your date, son!”

Naomi’s eyes nearly bug out of her head as Ethan saunters onto the stage, a lopsided grin on his face. Naomi can feel the arrogance rolling off of him in waves.

All of the Edenbrook employees in attendance immediately begin talking. Of course there was talk of Ethan and Naomi maybe being a thing, but this confirms it.

“What on earth are you doing?” She asks, looking around. Everyone’s staring at them.

“Bidding.”

“A small down payment on a house?”

“What? I can afford it.” Ethan shrugs. “Besides, you couldn’t have possibly thought I was going to let someone else get this honor.”

Naomi narrows her eyes at him and laughs. “You know, you’re really crazy when you’re acting possessive and jealous.”

“I know.” Ethan steps forward and wraps an arm around Naomi’s waist. “And you love it.”

“I kind of do.”

He kisses her, earning a few whoops and whistles – and one rogue “Get it, Nay!” from Sienna – from the crowd. When he pulls away, the apples of Naomi’s cheeks are a deep red, not used to this level of attention all at once.

“So, now that I’ve proved my point, how about we get out of here? I think I need to take you on a date that’s worth $15,000.”

#playchoices #choices: stories you play #open heart #dr. ethan ramsey #ethan ramsey #ethan ramsey x mc #ns*fw

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freddiesaysalright · 4 years

Text

Just Like a Woman - Part 6

A Roger Taylor x Reader Fic

Summary: You and Roger were once in love when you were young. Only, he went on to be a rock star, and you went on to be a lawyer. Now, quite against your will, you’re representing him in his divorce.

Word Count: 3.4k

Tag List: @psychosupernatural, @someone-get-a-medic, @bensrhapsody, @deakyclicks, @crazylittlethingcalledobsession, @minigranger, @crazyweirdocalledfriday, @the-moving-finger-writes, @assembledherethevolunteers, @rose-writes-prose, @queenlover05, @26-7-49, @drowsebaby, @moon-stars-soul, @im-an-adult-ish, @ixchel-9275, @jennyggggrrr, @zyanmaik, @mypassionfortrash, @a19103, @madeinheavxn, @beepbeephardy, @lizawritesthings, @qweenly, @blisshemmings, @seasidecrowbar, @internationalkpoplova, @ellystone, @takemetoneverland420, @coffeexcigarette, @lookuptotheskiesandsee, @thatpunkmaximoff, @angelkissys, @rocknroll-stolemyass, @simonedk, @anotheronebitesrogertaylor, @peterquillzblog, @mrfahrenhcit, @joseph-mozzerella, @theprettyandthereckless, @flick-ofthe-wrist, @johndeaconshands, @rogerandhiscar, @queenmaracasandlove, @sunflower-ben, @cubetriangle, @amy-brooklyn99, @scorpiogemini, @kiainspace, @itsabenthing, @bookandband, @makemeyourwife-loveofmylife, @grazessa, @borhapqueen92 If you’d like to be added let me know!

A/N: The big talk! Hope y’all enjoy it!

Warning(s): None :)

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5

Part 6 here we go!!!

Roger watched himself squint against the glare from the sun as he made his way back to his car. A much younger him walked briskly away from your front door, got into his car, and let out a sob. Present day Roger felt the familiar pang of regret. Since that day, he had never stopped feeling it every once in a while. It was sharp and painful.

The scene shifted. Roger was standing in the corner of your old bedroom. An even younger version of him was lying with you on your bed. He was on his back with an arm around your shoulders while you rested against his chest, snuggled into his side.

“Y/N,” he said.

“Hm?” you murmured.

“I think I wanna drop out of school.”

Your eyes opened and you turned to look at him.

“What?” you questioned.

“I don’t want to be a dentist,” he said. “Things are going really well with the band, and I think music is what I want to focus on.”

You didn’t answer right away.

“Is...is that alright?”

You sat up, but with a smile on your face.

“Oh, Roger, it’s more than alright,” you told him sweetly. “I’ve been hoping you’d say so.”

“Really?!” he gasped, sitting up as well.

“Yes!” you returned. “School is making you miserable! If the band is what makes you happy, then I’m all for it.”

“But what about the instability?” he wondered. “It’s not the most regular future.”

“Roger, I love you,” you said, cupping his cheek with your hand. “All I want is you to do what makes you happiest.”

“I appreciate that, Y/N,” he replied, turning his face to kiss your palm. “I was so afraid of picking the safe thing and that I’d…”

“What?” you pressed.

“That I’d end up like my dad,” he admitted.

“That would never happen,” you said.

“How do you know?”

“Because you’ve got a heart, Roger Taylor,” you said. “I’ve seen it.”

“Seen it?” he joked. “You own it.”

You giggled together and the scene changed again.

Now, it was your childhood home. You and young Roger sat at the piano together, playing more from The Music Man. You were maybe sixteen or seventeen.

“Alright, Y/N, your father and I are heading out,” your mother said as she entered the sitting room, pulling her gloves on. “You sure you’ll be alright here?”

“Of course, Mum, I’ve got Roger with me,” you told her.

She beamed at both of you before kissing the top of your head. Then she did the same to Roger. Suddenly, present day Roger remembered exactly what night it was. You were seventeen.

“Viv, come on,” your father called from the kitchen, where you were certain he was already halfway out the back door. “Our reservations are at eight and if we’re not on time, they’ll give our table away!”

“Coming, darling!” she called back. Then she looked at you and Roger again. “We’ll be back in a few hours. Be good.”

“Have a good time, Vivian,” Roger said.

She smiled and headed toward the kitchen. As she pushed on the door, she turned and waved to you both one last time. You and Roger waved back. Then she was gone. You both listened as the car started up and rumbled out of the driveway.

“Can I play you something?” Roger asked.

“Is it a Roger Taylor original?” you teased.

He looked seriously at you.

“Yeah,” he said. “I wrote it for you.”

“You wrote me a song?”

“Of course, Y/N,” he said. “I love you.”

You smiled. Roger began the first slow notes. It was like nothing you had ever heard from him before. This was a sweeping, lyrical melody. He didn’t have lyrics yet, but you felt what he meant through the sounds. The song didn’t need words. It flowed directly from his heart into yours.

Present Roger watched, remembering the tune. A tear began to fall down his cheek.

Young Roger slowed to a stop and then looked at you. You were blushing and a bit weepy.

“That was beautiful,” you told him.

“You’re beautiful,” he said.

You leaned over and kissed him. The two of you had become very good at kissing each other after two years of being together. Only, you didn’t stop kissing him. Things heated up as he wrapped his arms around you and you pressed your body into him.

“Roger, I want you,” you whispered into his ear while his lips explored your neck.

He pulled away, looking into your eyes.

“Are you sure?” he asked.

You nodded. “Please.”

“Of course, love,” he said with a smile. “Whatever you want.”

He took your hand. You both rose from the piano bench, and he led you upstairs.

The scene changed again. You and Roger were even younger now. It was Christmas Day, and the two of you were on the floor, showing each other your gifts. You were maybe nine or ten years old. Suddenly, little Roger was tickling your sides. You shrieked with laughter as you fell onto your back, only giving him more of an advantage. Your father watched you fondly. Then, he locked eyes with present Roger, scowling.

“Was it worth it?” Felix demanded.

Roger bolted upright in bed, sucking in a large breath. Gasping and panting, he looked around his bedroom. His eyes found the clock. It was seven in the morning.

“Fuck,” he sighed, flopping onto his back again.

He squeezed his eyes shut, trying to forget the dream. The look on your father’s face. Only, everything before that was pretty pleasant to think about. The night he played you that song he wrote...well, it was the tenderest experience he had ever shared with another person.

“It’s just because you’re seeing her tonight,” he told himself. “That’s all.”

Before you and your mother left the studio that day you brought her by, Roger arranged for you to come Saturday night for dinner. Dominique said she had plans, and the nanny would be around to watch the children, but they would be out of the way. Roger’s nerves were getting to him now that the day had arrived.

He had to go to the studio for a few hours, so that was a nice distraction. Only, he struggled to forget the dream. Your father had asked him the question that had haunted him for years, and it was impossible to answer. Hopefully, there would be closure over dinner.

That evening, when he arrived home, he started preparing the food. It wasn’t a complicated meal, since Roger hadn’t cooked for himself in years, but one he was comfortable enough making. Dominique helped out a bit too. Then he went up to shower.

He was selecting a shirt when Dominique entered his room. She was wearing a stunning dress and heels. Her makeup and hair were done as well. He looked her once over.

“Well, where are you off to?” he asked.

She sighed. “I wasn’t sure if I should tell you this or not, but I think you deserve to know. I’ve got a date.”

He blinked. “A date?”

“Yeah,” she said. “That’s my plan for tonight.”

“Dom, we’re still married,” he reminded her.

“Well, it’s not stopping you,” she argued.

“That’s different,” he said. “Y/N and I aren’t on a date, this is….something else.”

She scoffed. “Alright then.”

“Why d’you wanna date?” he questioned. “Isn’t it weird?”

“A bit,” she agreed. “But I’ve got to start living my life like it's my own again, Rog.”

“Well...I can’t very well stop you, can I?” he joked.

She chuckled. “No, you can’t.”

A beat passed.

“Wear the blue shirt,” she told him. “Brings out your eyes.”

“Thanks,” he replied. “Good luck tonight, Dom.”

“Thanks,” she said. “You as well.”

She left. He listened to her bid the children goodnight before she headed downstairs. His heart ached for Dominique. He had badly wanted to love her. But unfortunately, she followed you, and that was something no one could overcome.

You were just putting lipstick on when your mother came into your room. She gasped when she saw you in your dress.

“Oh, darling you’re just lovely!” she praised. “Which I’m sure he’ll say.”

You rolled your eyes and opened your mouth to retort.

“I know it’s not a date,” she stopped you. “So don’t look at me like that. I’m only saying he’ll be impressed.”

You smiled and puckered your lips together in the mirror. Then you looked at her.

“Are you sure you’ll be alright, Mum?” you asked. “On your own?”

“I’ve been on my own before,” she said. “I’ve got television, my book, and I can play a riveting game of solitaire if need be.”

You chuckled. “Alright, then.”

“I think I hear the car pulling up,” she gasped. “Oh, how glamorous!”

You rolled your eyes again. Roger sent a car for you and the driver came to your door. You followed him out to the car. He opened the door for you. You waved to your mother as you ducked inside, and then you were off. To Roger’s. For what might be the most difficult conversation of your life.

Roger’s house was quite grand. As you pulled up, you couldn’t help but admire just how well he’d done for himself. He had created his dream life.

The driver opened the door for you, and you went up to the front of the house. It was eight o’clock so the sun was gone. You shivered a moment before Roger opened the door with a wide smile.

“Hey, Y/N,” he greeted. “Come on in.”

“Thank you,” you replied.

He took your jacket and hung it on the rack to the right. Your bag went with it. Then you followed him into the kitchen.

“Roger, it smells incredible!” you cried. “Since when did you know how to cook?”

“That’s rich, coming from the woman who burns everything,” he returned with a smirk.

You laughed. He took a break from stirring a sauce to pour you each a glass of wine. It was a flavorful red blend that you loved.

“You’re spoiling me,” you said.

“It’s no less than you deserve, love,” he replied.

You smiled at him. You chatted lightly while he cooked. Your nerves had disappeared with the ease of the atmosphere. You were two old friends having a meal together. There was more to come, of course, but nothing you couldn’t handle.

“Alright, it’s ready,” he said.

“I can’t wait,” you told him.

He served up the plates. You sat together at the table and dug in. The food was great, and you were sure to tell him so. As you finished up the meal, you both became serious.

“Y/N, as much fun as I’m having, we need to talk about things,” he said.

“I know,” you agreed. “It feels a little overwhelming now.”

“D’you want to start or should I?” he wondered.

“Do you have any questions for me?” you asked.

“I do, actually,” he said. “When I left, I had no idea you wanted to be an attorney. How’d you end up doing that?”

“Really?” you questioned. “That’s your big question?”

“Not the big one,” he laughed. “But I have been wondering.”

“Well, after you left, I went home to my parents,” you said. “I was heartbroken and I needed them. Plus, I had no idea what I wanted to do with my life. I thought on it, and then I remembered your mother.”

“My mother?”

“Yeah,” you said. “How she was trapped in her marriage to your father for so long and how unfair it was. So, I looked into law. I wanted my focus to be on marriage law because I wanted to be able to help people like her.”

“That’s sweet of you,” he said. “Another question.”

“Shoot.”

“Did you ever love anyone after me?”

You swallowed. The answer was simple, but it was difficult to say.

“No.”

“You didn’t….you weren’t with anyone in all these years?” he pressed.

“I mean, I dated,” you said. “I had a brief affair with one of my law professors, but for me, it was casual, and for him, it was serious. He actually proposed to me. But we’d only been seeing each other for the length of the semester, so I ended it. I kept dating casually, but nothing really happened until I met Mark.”

“Why d’you think that was?” he wondered.

“Well, because…” you trailed off, taking a deep breath. “When I was with you, I had a very clear idea of what life was going to be like. Then you left and every hope….every dream I ever had went with you. It was a void no other person could hope to fill.”

A beat passed.

“What made it worse was that the one person I could talk to, my best friend, was also gone,” you said. “It was...the loneliest I’ve ever felt.”

“I’m sorry,” he said.

“I’m okay,” you replied. “I got my job at Bill’s firm and I’ve made solid friends there.”

“I’m glad for that,” he said. “Things weren’t much easier for me, you know.”

You raised an eyebrow at him. “I seriously doubt that.”

“I’m not joking, Y/N,” he said. “I missed you so much. There were things I talked to you about that no one else ever knew about me. I also lost my best friend.”

“But you wanted more,” you reminded him.

“I did,” he said. “And I was foolish for it.”

You looked at him levelly, waiting for him to finish.

“I did my exploring, but it wasn’t fulfilling,” he said. “I went back to Dominique every time I wanted stability, but I was using her. She was the closest thing I had to you. I got it all out of my system, but as much as I loved her, there was still something missing. So I continued to chase other women, even though I was married.”

“Then can you really say you got it out of your system?” you questioned.

“Yes,” he said. “Because ever since you’ve been back in my life, I haven’t so much as looked at another woman. I’ve learned that all that experience wasn’t worth losing you.”

Tears stung your eyes. Your heart felt constricted, as if it was flinching away from Roger. It had been knocked around by him so long, it didn’t trust the sweet things he was saying.

“That day in the studio, I meant to ask you something,” you choked out.

“What was it?” he wondered.

“If you had done your exploring and got it out of your system,” you began, lip trembling. “Why didn’t you come back to me?”

“Would you have taken me back?” he asked, surprised. “I assumed you never wanted to see me again. I knew I’d hurt you and -”

“Yes, Roger,” you cut across him. “I’d have taken you back in a second.”

It sounded stupid to you. But you knew yourself. Your heart, as much as it feared being hurt by Roger again, was weak for him. Hell, your whole being was weak for him. Ever since that day he left, you felt like half a person. Half a heart. Half a body. Half a soul. Roger made you complete.

He didn’t speak for a moment. It took so long, you feared he may not answer at all. Then, he pushed his chair back, got up, and stepped over to you. Your chest heaved with anticipation as you watched him. You looked up into his eyes and an electric charge passed between you. Your stomach churned. Your heart rate quickened.

“Rog-”

He cut you off when he bent down and kissed you. Your eyes fell closed as his lips crashed into yours. Your arms naturally coiled themselves around his neck. He lifted you out of the chair, lips still devouring yours, and placed you onto the counter, standing between your legs. Your fingers curled into his hair and you tugged him impossibly closer.

“Rog,” you whimpered as he moved down to kiss your neck.

“Fuck, I’ve missed you so much,” he sighed, his breath hot on your skin.

You took his face between your hands and made him look at you.

“I forgive you,” you said with a soft smile.

He returned one. Then you leaned forward to place a gentle kiss on his lips. You looked at each other again, grinning. Then, a small voice interrupted.

“Daddy,” it called from the kitchen entryway. “Bad dweam.”

Roger turned toward his son. Felix stood, lips drawn into a pout, and rubbing his eyes. Roger went and knelt in front of the boy.

“A bad dream, huh?” he asked.

Felix nodded. “Vewy bad.”

Roger scooped Felix into his arms, resting the boy on his hip.

“What happened, lovie?” he asked.

“A monstew,” Felix explained. “In my bed.”

“A big monster?” Roger wondered, kissing Felix’s temple.

“Vewy big,” Felix said.

“Well, Daddy’s here now and he’ll shoot that monster if he comes back,” Roger said.

You bit your lip as you watched Roger comfort his son. He let Felix cry out his fear a little more, and then tickled his belly to ease him. Felix giggled and wriggled against his father’s grasp, but he succumbed to his laughter.

“Daddy!” he complained.

Roger stopped to let him breathe. Then he walked Felix over to you.

“This is Daddy’s good friend, Miss Y/N,” he said. “Can you say hi?”

“Hi,” Felix said bashfully.

“It’s nice to meet you, Felix,” you replied.

“She’s pwetty,” Felix said, looking at Roger.

“You think so?” Roger asked, looking between you and his son. “Me too.”

“Whewe’s Mummy?” Felix asked.

The question sent a biting pang through your heart. There was a time when having Roger’s children was your greatest dream. This was a harsh reminder of what you didn’t have. And the time you had lost.

“She’s out, but she’ll be home later,” Roger said. “Are you ready to go back to bed now?”

At that moment, the nanny came hurtling in, clutching her chest and out of breath.

“Felix!” she wheezed. “I’ve been looking all over for you!”

The nanny was a middle aged Irish lady named Verity. She was a part time employee to help out since Dominique was still doing some modeling. Roger asked her to come while he prepared for the evening so he wouldn’t be distracted while with you.

“S’alright, Verity, he’s with me,” Roger assured her. “He had a bad dream.”

Verity crossed herself and murmured a prayer before looking at Felix again.

“You gave me a fright, child,” she scolded.

“I’m sowwy,” he said.

Roger passed Felix over to Verity, and she started out of the room. The phone rang.

“Verity, could you get that?” Roger asked. “I’m busy.”

“Of course, sir,” she said. “I’ll answer it from the phone in your room, if you don’t mind.”

“Not at all,” he replied.

He looked at you as she disappeared. Your brow was creased over your eyes and your mouth was turned down.

“You’re rude, you know that?” you said.

“Rude?” he questioned. “What are you talking about?”

You slid off the counter and landed on your feet.

“If you wanna fall in love with someone else, that’s fine,” you said. “You wanna marry her? Fine. But to father her children, that’s just rude.”

Roger chuckled and you scowled at him.

“It’s not funny!” you insisted.

“Okay, let’s pretend like what you just said to me isn’t ridiculous,” he retorted. “I’m not laughing at that. It’s just….you’re so damn beautiful when you get cross.”

You softened. “Shut up.”

He was just leaning in to kiss you again, when Verity returned, looking grim.

“Verity?” Roger questioned. “What is it?”

“It was a police officer on the phone, sir,” she said. “Dominique’s been found on the side of the road, badly hurt. They’re taking her to hospital now.”

The color drained from Roger’s face as he looked at her. His mouth fell open.

“We’ll head right over,” you told Verity. “Stay with the children, Verity, and we’ll call when we know more.”

You looked at Roger.

“Rog?”

He didn’t answer.

“Roger, focus!”

He finally looked at you.

“She had a date,” he said quietly.

“Roger, this isn’t on you,” you told him, knowing exactly where his thoughts were. “We don’t know what happened yet.”

He took a deep breath and something in him shifted. He was completely alert.

“Let’s go,” he said, snatching his keys from the hook on the wall.

You followed him out to the car.

#roger taylor #roger taylor x reader #roger taylor x you #roger taylor imagine #Queen #queen imagine #queen x reader #queen x you #BoRhap #borhap imagine #ben hardy #ben hardy imagine #ben hardy x reader #ben hardy x you #bohemian rhapsody #bohemian rhapsody imagine #just like a woman series

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kill-for-cookies · 4 years

Text

Washing Dishes

Dhawan!Master x Reader (NSFW)

Summary: you’re tired. You need to stay at home for a while, do the usual things. For example, washing dishes. Yes, that sounds good. But something goes wrong...

Words: 2178

Warning: smut, a little angst and dom/sub

Note: I wrote this fic for 3 days ‘cause English is foreign language for me, but I really like writing it. If you want to send me some ideas for fics I’ll be grateful. Hope, you enjoy it.

You missed it. Really. Surely, You like travelling with Doctor despite the fact you can be killed. But that was nothing compared to all time and space you have seen and will see. Well, at least, you can accept the risks.

However, sometimes you want to just return to normal life. Yes, It's kinda boring and repetitive, but you need it like air to breathe. That's why you were in living room at your flat talking with your best friend Nat. Of course you couldn't tell her about your adventures with the Fam, but that wasn't not your first time to modify truth about where you've been.

"So, I gotta go. You just got home, Y/N. You need some rest." Nat told you giving an empty cup of tea to your outstretched hand.

"Oh, come on, Nat. I'm not even tired." you complained. But deep down you know that was truth. You wanted to be alone in peace and quiet and you was grateful to her.

Nat rolled her eyes in annoyance like always she does when you are stubborn. Your friend wasn't going to tell you anything because that wasn't necessary. She stood up slowly and hold your hands.

"See you tomorrow."

"Thanks for your help with washing the dishes." you said ironically and a little dramatically. And both of you burst out laughing.

"Sure you can handle it." Nat winked.

You said goodbye to each other. Nat closed the front door, leaving a small crack. In this time you turned tap and set to work.

You can't say you didn't like do chores. At least without disgust. But at this time you enjoyed it. The noise of the water calmed your wild head full of annoying thoughts and you were humming a song. Barely hearing creak of the door you were focused on your work. You thought that was Nat forgetting something in your living room (she does that often than anyone can ever imagine).

You had only one plate to wash when something slid down your waist. That was hand. A male hand. You don't have a boyfriend and all your nearest neighbours were girls. There was only one man who knows your address. You froze in place hoping it was just a bad dream. The plate slipped out of your hands and fell into the sink with a loud rumble. A small piece broke off and scratched the inside of your hand.

"I'm glad to see you too, love" you could feel his smirk at your ear.

This. Fucking. Bastard. Really? Why did he come right on the day you returned home? You never thought you can hate someone so much.

You first met the Master when he was prime minister. Actually You've been encountering with him as much as the Doctor since the Time War. Well, almost as much. You missed maybe two times.

If you say that your relationship with the Master was difficult, it is nothing to say. One moment you are trying to kill yourselves, the next you are ready to lunge at each other kissing fiercely and passionately. But it doesn't mean you're in love with him, right? You and the Master were just lovers and nothing more. And you'll never betray the Doctor for the Master.

"What are you doing here?"

"Decided to check up my favorite human."

"Stop it" you said quietly but firmly.

"Stop what?" his eyes widened.

"You really think I would believe you? You never did it and sure you wouldn't" you didn't even try to hide your sarcasm.

"Don't act like you know me. I really missed you" he murmured into your ear.

"Well, I don't. So when we've figured it out go away" a low growl escaped from your throat.

"Oh, never thought you can be so furious. You're just like me" he was mocking you.

"I'm nothing like you" you spat out last word.

"Aren't you?" in one simple movement he turned you over to face him. The Master leaned toward you so that you could feel his warm breath on your cheek. "Do you really think so? Tell me, Y/N. Doctor isn't here. You can tell me everything you want to."

You felt knife was right at your throat. Seriously? How could he take a knife almost out of your nose without being seen? Oh, yes, he's the Master. You had to wipe the dishes and put it back, then wash the rest. But, no, you did the opposite. You blamed yourself. But you wasn't the one who was easy to scare. Plus you met the Master so many times... And so often it ended more than just threatening your life. You stayed stubbornly silent looking straight in his brown hypnotic eyes.

"Come on, Y/N. Will you continue to be stubborn? Don't make me do it" something glittered in his eyes.

"Do what?" contempt flowed from you like a river.

"Depends on you..." as much as he annoyed you, he looked so damn attractive. And you admit it.

'Fine, I will play in your game' you thought hoping he's not in your mind right now.

You fiercely kissed him. The knife a little wounded your throat and blood started to flow down your neck, but you didn't pay attention. God, who knew you missed him so much?

"Mmm, you lied to me. Maybe I should punish you? What did you think?" the knife was left the second he asked the question. His lips covered yours when you tried to say something. Well, apparently that was a rhetorical one.

Pulling away, you leaned even closer to the sink. No matter how much you liked this situation, you still felt uncomfortable being in his company. He's the Master. One of the most important disaster of the Universe. The one who destroyed Gallifrey, his home planet. The one who has always achieved his goal. And now his prey goal was you. That's what made you fell uncomfortable. You weren't afraid of him, but you had awe.

His eyes dropped below your lips. He must just noticed the cut on your neck. The Master slowly licked his lips before leaning over and licking the blood from your neck. Shit, he probably knew that was your weak spot. You couldn't hold back a loud moan, which caused the Master to chuckle. With each touch of his tongue, you melted more and more, your knuckles turned pale from your tight grip on the sink. Your legs are beginning to give way a little, but they haven't betrayed you yet. Although you felt a little wet from below.

"Say it" his voice was full of lust, but still domineering. Of course, how could it be otherwise?

"Say... wha-ah-at?" you barely managed to ask, trying to hold back your moans.

"Say my name" - silence. You decided to just ignore it. You didn't want to give him more power than he had. Although in this situation you could do almost anything he asked. And he knew it. Apparently that's why he asked you to do this.

You didn’t notice his free hand slid down to your jeans, quickly zipped it and crawled under your boxers. His thumb found the clit and began drawing circles on it. You couldn't stand it shouting:

"Master! Please... " oh, how you hated yourself for that. He barely touched you and you were already his.

"Please what?" a smug grin spread across his face. He knew exactly what you were talking about. But he wanted to hear it from you. He was so irritated by your morality and decency, each time trying to destroy these qualities in you. Making you choose who lives and who doesn't. Or putting you in situations like this.

The fingers of his other hand started tapping on your back as soon as they found their way under your shirt.

"Just do it" your voice was barely above a whisper.

"Sweetheart, I'm afraid you need to be more specific" he leaned close to your ear so your chests were almost touching. "Because I can do a lot with you."

"Do you want me to say it out loud? Is it necessary?"

"Oh, Yes. That would be great. Or else..." He was still a few inches away from you, though the fingers of his hands had stopped moving, making you whimper. Those hands were driving you crazy. They always did, no matter what the regeneration was. It doesn't matter what they did to you. Hands burning cities, destroying planets, blowing up galaxies. Of course, he saw it in your mind and knew it. Bastard.

"Just push me on the table and fuck me" you would regret this very much. But that would come later. Now you were dying without it.

"The magic word?" he whispered in your ear. You could feel his grin. He teased you and it made you want him. Your underwear was soaking wet. You shifted your weight from one foot to the other to ease the tension at the bottom.

"Please?" you knew exactly what he wanted you to say. But you still had a little self-control and that’s why you refused to say it a second time.

"Try again" he broke into a cheshire grin. You've already played with each other. The question was “Who will prevail”. It was obvious to you two, though. But for you, the process itself was more important than the victory.

"Master" you sighed. By this time, you had calmed down and were able to control yourself a little.

"That's my girl" well, now you've lost control, which was hard for you to regain.

His lips fell greedily on yours as like he would die without you. As you without his. He quickly led you away from the sink, took you to the table ripping your clothes and underpants to shreds and pushed you hard on it. Not to say you didn't feel any pain from the push but you didn't complain. From the Master you shouldn’t expect tenderness in such situation. You knew that.

He climbed up on the table, hovering over you. He held your wrists above your head with one hand, while the other slid slowly over your wet inner thigh. But he was still fully dressed which of course you didn't like.

"That's not fai... " before you could finish, his finger shoved up inside of you. You cried out in pain and pleasure that flowed from your core all over your body.

"Don't make me angry" he growled right in your face.

"Or what?"

He added two fingers at once and twisted them. God, it hurt so much, but your desire was stronger.

"Master.." he always did everything he could to make you shout and moan. You were driven mad by his hands and he - by your moans. He started pumping you up by pulling out and in his fingers into you.

"That's it. Remember you are mine."

"Only in your dreams..." you said it when you got a little used to his pushes.

The hand which pressed your hands to the table moved to your throat and held it tight.

"Judging from your screams I wouldn't be so sure" despite the strangling grip he said it in the sweetest voice you've ever heard from him.

From suffocation all the sensations increased several times and you are almost come. He decided to speed up the process so he left a trail of kisses on your neck sucking you. Leaving your own tags. Marking you as his. It was enough for you to go over the edge just like him. Taking his hand from your neck, he wrapped it around your cheek and gently kissed it.

"You look so good under me" he stood up, straightened his suit, and left you lying on the table. "Oh, and thank you for your help" he winked.

"What?" you sat up and blinked quickly, uncomprehending.

"Come on, Y/N. Keep up. You're not so stupid like other Doctor's pets" he slowly approached to you without taking eyes off you.

"What did you do to her?" you leaned to him so there were a couple of inches between you.

"Well, not yet. But now she'll walk into trap. You were the only one who could help her"

"But I can stop you..." a low growl escaped from your throat.

"And how?" he looked at your hands and smiled broadly. Your eyes followed his and saw some bracelets on your wrists. Handcuffs. Really? "Handcuffs will not allow you to leave flat. And I don't need to stay here anymore. I had enough fun with you" shit, you let your feelings out and now the Doctor is in danger. You looked away. He didn't like it, so the Master grabbed your chin, pulled you into another kiss, bitting your lip.

"Until next time" he winked and left.

You heard the sound of the TARDIS disappearing from your room. Bastard. But damn it, you would lie to yourself if you said you didn't like it... Maybe you should wash the dishes more often?

#doctor who #the master x reader #the master #dhawan!master #dhawan!master x reader #dhawan!master imagine #dw #smut

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storiesforallfandoms · 5 years

Text

not a rebound ~ yungblud

word count: 1302

request?: no

description: after a heartbreaking break up, dom’s friend colson decides to hook him up with a friend

pairing: yungblud x female!reader

warnings: swearing

masterlist

no hate towards halsey, i actually absolutely adore her, but she’s just the ex-girlfriend in this imagine so there’s some instances of dom and colson saying not very nice things about her. i also don’t know the details of their breakup so i’m making it up for the sake of the imagine.

“Come on, man, you can’t keep moping over some bitch that broke up with you. You gotta move on from her.”

Dom looked up at Colson from his position on the studio couch. "How can you say that about her when you fucked around with her, too?”

“I got my anger out through a song, and that’s what you have to do,” Colson told him. “Now get your ass up, we’re going to write something fucking amazing and blow everyone away.”

Dom put his head in his hands and sighed heavily. It was easy for Colson to say, his fling with Ashley was very short lived, and eventually they ended up being friends again. Dom and Ashley had something real, he was sure he was in love with her. Then, out of nowhere, she broke up with him, claiming their relationship just wasn’t working out and she wanted to be by herself. Not even two weeks later, she was pictured out with another guy, and it was recently confirmed that they were together.

Ever since, Dom had just felt so heartbroken and down. He didn’t even want to make any music, although all his friends, especially Colson, were trying to get into the studio with him. Finally, feeling fed up with Dom’s sadness, Colson picked him up and dragged him to the studio to try and get his mind off the breakup, which currently was not working.

When Dom didn’t move, Colson sighed. He shook his head and sat himself down, deciding to start on the song without Dom. The two sat in prolonged silence as Colson wrote some notes down, humming them out and figuring out the songs every now and then.

Just as Dom was about to stand up to leave, the door to the studio opened and an unknown girl walked in carrying a tray of paper coffee cups. Dom sat up straighter, noticing how beautiful this woman was almost immediately.

“Hey (Y/N),” Colson said. “Thanks for the coffee. I don’t know about the sad fuck over there, but I’ll definitely need it. I’m planning on at least writing enough songs for the next album.”

“Kells, you need to slow down and rest at some point,” the woman, (Y/N), told him.

“I can rest when I’m dead,” Colson said, waving off the comment. “Oh, by the way, this is Dom. Dom, this is (Y/N).”

She turned and smiled at the young Brit. “Hey! It’s nice to meet you. Kells talks about you a lot.”

Dom tried not to visibly deflate upon realizing that (Y/N) and Colson really knew one another. She was probably another of his recent string of girlfriends or hookups.

As if reading his friend’s mind, Colson stood and wrapped an arm around (Y/N)’s shoulder. “(Y/N) is an old friend from Cleveland. We’ve known each other for years.”

“Colson’s like my big brother,” (Y/N) added. “Right down to the wishing I didn’t know him.”

Colson playfully shoved (Y/N), causing her to almost fall onto Dom’s lap. Although he would’ve loved to have her sat there, Dom caught her instead and placed her on the couch next to him.

“We;;, it’s nice to meet you, (Y/N),” Dom said.

“You wanna stick around, (Y/N)? Maybe you could help us write something,” Colson suggested.

(Y/N) scoffed. “I can barley speak English, let alone write a good song. I’d love to stay and watch the process, though. If I’m not intruding.”

“Not at all!” Dom responded before he could stop himself.

Colson looked between the two, a mischievous smirk on his face. “Well settle in, we’re gonna be here a while. I gotta piss, be back in a few.”

(Y/N) rolled her eyes and waved Colson off. Once he left the room, things got slightly awkward. (Y/N) leaned against the arm rest furthest away from Dom, putting a lot of space between the two. She pulled her phone out and began typing something. Dom longed to say something, but he didn’t know what. He was also too afraid that he’d let something embarrassing slip if he opened his mouth.

Suddenly, (Y/N) gasped. “I knew you looked familiar! You’re Yungblud!”

Dom raised an eyebrow. “Kells didn't tell you that?”

(Y/N) shook her head. “Nope, he always just referred to you as Dom, and he hasn’t said anything about your song or the tour or anything. I can’t believe he invited me to hang out with one of my favourite musicians without telling me!”

Dom laughed. Luckily, this was what he needed to get the conversation rolling. They started talking then, really getting to know one another. They were so deep in their conversation that neither realized that nearly 20 minutes had passed and Colson still hadn’t returned.

“So, what are you and Kells working on? Anything big?” (Y/N) asked.

Dom sighed. “He’s trying to get me to write something, but I’m just not feeling overly creative right now. I just went through a bad breakup so I don’t feel like writing another epic hit song right now.”

“Oh yeah, Kells told me that,” (Y/N) said, shuffling awkwardly. “And I’ve...seen the pictures of Halsey with Evan Peters. I’m so sorry, Dom, that sucks so bad.”

She reached over and took Dom’s hand in hers. When he turned to look at her, he found himself lost in her eyes, as cheesy as that sounded. She smiled and tucked her hair behind her ear, slight blush creeping across her face.

And, of course, it was that moment that Colson decided to walk in.

“Geez, took you long enough to piss,” (Y/N) said. “What, did you get lost on your way to the bathroom?”

“Sorry,” Colson shrugged, although he sounded less than apologetic.

“Well, you were gone long enough that now I’m hungry.” (Y/N) stood. “You guys want anything?”

“Grab me a burger. No pickles, fuck that shit,” Colson responded. “Dom?”

Dom shook his head. (Y/N) shrugged and headed out the door. Colson hit Dom’s arm, causing the young Brit to actually jump. “What the fuck?”

“Go with her!” Colson insisted. “Dude, I just watched you two get super close, she totally digs you!”

“You watched us?” Dom asked.

“You didn’t actually think I went to piss for nearly half an hour did you?” Colson questioned. “I saw you two hitting it off and decided to wait and see where it was gonna go. You obviously like her, and she is totally into you. Go with her to get the food, spend more time with her!”

Dom couldn’t deny that the idea of spending more time with (Y/N) sounded great, but he shook his head at Colson’s suggestion. “I can’t. I’m just out o of a relationship, Kells, I’m not ready for anything else. And I don’t want a rebound.”

“She’s not a rebound if you really like her,” Colson told him. “I’m telling you, hang out with her, get to know her. Then when you’re ready, go out on a date with her. I’m telling you, dude, you two would be great together.”

Dom took a moment to think about what Colson said before standing and running out of the room. He caught (Y/N) just as she was reaching the door of the studio. “Hey, (Y/N), wait up!”

When she turned to look at him, Dom caught a look in her eyes that he couldn’t quite place. It looked like hope, or excitement.

“Want some company for your food run?” he asked her.

“Yes!” she answered excitedly, but quickly regained her composure and corrected herself. “I mean, yeah. That’d be pretty cool.”

Dom laughed, causing (Y/N) to smile, and the two made their way to (Y/N)’s car.

#yungblud #yungblud imagine #yungblud x reader #dominic harrison #dominic Harrison imagine #dominic Harrison x reader #imagine #one shot #mgk #machine gun kelly

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zankivich · 5 years

Text

The Arrangement: CEO’s Son/Dom!Shawn x Black Sub Reader Chapter 9

WARNINGS: smut, choking/breath play

*Shawn’s point of view*

Working with Niall was slowly getting him through the days. He was actually cool and funny as all hell. He recognized his record deal for what it was, and he was willing to make the system work for him without utterly changing who he was. It helped that he was talented and that he wanted to make the kind of music that Shawn was interested in as well. So with a little begging, and a lot of assurance that his dad would stop getting calls about him being a dickhead to everyone, Shawn was finally allowed to work exclusively with Niall. At least for the time being.

The two got close, the way that tends to happen when you’re in a studio with someone for sometimes eight to ten hours singing songs about the most intimate parts of who you are. Everyone else might have a different vision of Shawn, but Niall seemed to understand him for who he was. And the day the producer takes lunch and the two stay back for Niall to work on melodies, is the day their friendship solidifies even further.

He was sitting on one of the couches, still in his slacks and dress shirt, with a guitar riff in his head that wouldn’t quit. Without the producer there to rat him out, he thought there might not be any harm in playing around for a little bit. So, he picked up the guitar and began to play.

“Every time I see you baby I get lost, If I’m dreaming baby please don’t wake me up”

His fingers tap out the melody on the guitar, and he’s playing with it and tweaking it to his liking. He sings it again but in falsetto and it just sort of clicks. It’s good.

“Oiy, what the hell was that Mendes?!” Niall asked turning completely around in his chair.

He raised an eyebrow in Niall’s direction. “That was an A minor.”

“Not the fuckin’ notes, ya pipsqueak! That line. That melody. Where’d the hell you get that from?”

“Oh. I wrote it.”

“Are you kidding me? You write?”

Shawn nodded. “For myself. Not really for anyone else.”

“Doesn’t fucking matter does it? Let’s see some more of it!”

He grabs a guitar plops down on the couch beside him. They play together and sing together and write together. And Shawn couldn’t even have begun to explain how it made him feel. Like his whole world was brighter, and the walls weren’t so suffocating. He loved the concept of creating more than anything in the world. Writing and singing and playing were all that he had. And to finally get the opportunity to do something with them made him feel like he was on top of the fucking world. Before he knows it, not even twenty minutes later, he’s got a whole song. Something they created together. He couldn’t hide the happiness even if he tried.

“Holy shit, man. That--That’s incredible!” He gushed fingers tracing the words he’d scribbled down on the page.

Niall nodded. “Can’t believe you been holding out on me man! And to think you’re sitting here as handsome as you are not releasing that shit into the world. Your ole man must be crazy not to try and market you. I even want to fangirl a little bit over you.”

Shawn chuckled softly letting his fingers rest against his guitar again.

“If you knew my dad you’d understand. Trust me.”

“Whatever you say, Mendes. Shall we play it again?”

He shrugged. “Why the hell not?”

***

He goes over to her house on a Saturday afternoon. They’re supposed to be going out to lunch, and spending the day together. She begged him to bring his guitar and so he did, knocking gently on her apartment door with his case kept firm to his side just in case she got hurt. (yes his guitar is a she). When y/n opens the door wearing a sweatshirt of his that had gone missing a few weeks back, and shorts that leave little to the imagination, he’s not sure what she has planned for him but it surely must be better than some stupid lunch.

“Hi.” He murmured softly already pulling her into his arms.

She leans up on the tips of her toes and kisses him like she means it. Her fingers grip his chin and her tongue traces his mouth in a way that just might kill him. He’d welcome it if it meant it came from her.

“Mmm,” She hummed. “Hi. Come in.”

“We not going to lunch anymore?” He asked placing his guitar case against her sofa.

“Nope! We’re cooking instead.”

“Excuse me?”

“You heard me. If my momma ever saw the state of your kitchen, she’d laugh and then slap you, and then laugh some more.”

“Babe, I don’t cook. Some of us have some talents, and some of us have others.” He whined, following her into the kitchen.

Y/n rolled her eyes. “Boy, how would you even know you can’t cook when the only thing in your kitchen is some leftovers and two year old ketchup? Now go wash your hands. We’re eating in today.”

Clearly his afternoon was not coming with an option, and so he headed for her sink to wash his hands. He hung his jacket on the hook next to hers and met her at the kitchen counter where a whole ass chicken was sitting waiting to be butchered. He’d never felt so inexperienced in his whole life. He thought this must be what people who weren’t good at sex felt like.

“Fried chicken?” He asked poking awkwardly at the skin.

She snorted. “Is that what you think we’re finna make? You date one Black girl and all of a sudden you think it’s popeyes and grits every day huh?!”

“I--I didn’t...I just thought that--You know what I’m just gonna stop talking now.”

“That is probably in your best interest love.” She giggled swatting him on the ass. “Now, come watch mama teach you how to butterfly.”

He learns something new that day, though it might not have been quite the message she was going for. He learns that she looks sexy as all hell with a kitchen knife in her hand. What that meant about how fucked up his brain was, the world may neer know, but it was hot regardless. The second he moves behind her to gently wrap his hands around her waist she points her knife in his direction, and it gets a little less sexy.

“Can you and your dick try and focus for two minutes please?” She asked waving it around playfully

He whined again. “We were focusing. Quite hard, I might add.”

“Please?” She asked softly, her eyes wide and sincere at him. “Just please?”

He leaned down slowly to kiss her forehead and her nose in apology.

“I’m sorry. I’m here, I promise. Teach me how to butterfly.”

Turns out “to butterfly” means to cut the spine out of the chicken and lay it forward kind of like a butterfly, keeping it almost cut in half but instead in one long, big piece. She then takes softened butter and rubs it on the inside of the chicken, between the skin. She sticks thyme in between and rubs the outside of the skin with butter too. There’s salt and pepper and lemon and she lies it on a rack to go in the oven. It’s when she tucks the wings underneath the thighs to protect them from burning that he realizes this is her thing, not just a thing.

“You cook a lot, aye?” He asked, trying to keep up with her as she let him rub butter on the other side of the chicken.

She shook her head. “Not as much as I would like. I grew up in the kitchen with my mom. She’d been a cook her whole life. I don’t really have time for stuff like this no more though. It’s special to me. Means something.”

And she wanted to share it with him of all people. He makes special notice to pay a lot more attention from there on out.

The chicken goes into the oven and she puts on water to boil for the potatoes and some pancetta for her collard greens.

“This is how we upgrade a black staple,” She giggled. “We render out all of this fat on the pancetta, which is really just a more flavorful bacon and that’s gonna make the greens taste amazing. It’s also great because we’re really just gonna set them and forget them for about an hour and a half. By the time the greens are done so will our chicken. It’s perfect.”

There’s a different level of happiness to her when she’s cooking. She sets up a playlist to a speaker in the kitchen. Her hips move as she cooks, and she stops every now and again to kiss him until he forgets his own name. And she doesn’t even care when he fucks something us. She just laughs and fixes it and shows him how to do it correctly. He never knew cooking could be fun because of her. But it was never gonna matter if he was good at it or not. Because as long as he was with her, everything seemed to be alright.

“Hey,” He mumbled trapping her slightly against the counter top.

Her fingers ran up the length of his arms, and his body practically shook in response.

“What?” She purred, letting her arms come up to wrap around the back of his neck.

“I’m glad we stayed in today.” He admitted. “I think I love cooking with you.”

“Forreal?” She smiled.

His heart squeezed in his chest.

“Forreal. Thank you for showing me.”

“Anytime.”

“Yea? I might take you up on that.”

“I hope so.” She grinned.

He kisses her, just like that, pressed against her counter until the timer for the potatoes goes off. If the way that she smiled was his favorite part about cooking, his second was distracting her. He likes it better that way.

Lunch is...like really fucking good. Like he cleans his plate and goes back for more and completely ignores the grin on her face when he does it. His mum certainly wasn’t making collard greens in england nor Canada, but he had half a mind to call her up and ask why the hell not. It’s the best meal he’s ever had, he thinks. And the way she asks him about his week and his job while they eat and drink wine together is just sort of the topping on a very amazing pie. It’s the best time he’s had in months. And it isn’t lost on him that a huge part of that is just her presence.

When he’s full and slightly tipsy, she pulls him to her couch and makes him get out his guitar. He’s not drunk enough to tell her about all the songs that he’s written about her since they met. (especially not the track where he’d channeled his inner 2007 Sexy-back Timberlake. Who the fuck did he think he was?) But he’s just tipsy enough to let his fingers pluck out notes on the guitar that were for her upon inception. He’s just tipsy enough to get lost in her eyes while she drinks wine and tucks her legs beneath his hoodie. He’s just sober enough to be completely and totally honest with her when she asks him.

“You never said,” She murmured, her sock covered toes sneaking out to tap at his thigh. “You never said you played, or that you made music. How come?”

He starts to play My Girl, a comfort song from his childhood. It makes him a little less anxious when he stares at her.

“I didn’t want you to ask questions.” He admitted.

“Why not?”

“Think about it. What’s the one thing you wanna ask me now that you know? The one thing that’s confusing you?”

She shrugged her shoulders. “I guess I’m wondering why...you sound the way that you do, and you--you look the way that you do, and your dad is the number one music exec in the world, but you’re doing a job for him that you hate.”

“Bingo.” He muttered.

Her eyes grew soft and she chanced placing her palm on his knee.

“You don’t have to tell me. I don’t wanna know to be nosy. I wanna know cause you’re important.”

His fingers aren’t even moving on the guitar anymore. And how could they after that? He places the guitar against the arm of the couch, and opens his arms for her to climb into. It helps when she’s between his legs, when his arms are wrapped around her and her head is pressed into his shoulder. It makes him feel stronger than he really is.

“My dad...he’s not a good guy.”

She squeezed at his fingers around her own. “I know that. What did he do?”

“I fell in love. With music, I mean. It’s the only thing I’ve ever been good at. And he supported me at first. He--He let me record and he let me train to get better and better. I used to spend every single day after school in the studio watching others create, learning, and trying to become that… I was like eleven when I told my dad how to do something better than he would’ve done it. And I’ve been on his bad side ever since.”

She peers up at him with kind, sad eyes because it must be clicking for her already.

“He didn’t like you being able to be good without him.” She murmured.

He shook his head. “I started to write. And they were...pretty good. By the time I was fourteen or fifteen I had a collection of stuff. I thought that maybe my dad could do for me, what he did for everyone else. And I asked him, you know, if I could put out a record. He said yes, said that he would manage me, and I’d be the biggest star on his whole label. And he...he had me sign a contract.”

“Shit,” She groaned knowing exactly where this was headed.

“Yep. I gave my dad ownership over every piece of music I created until the age of eighteen. He owns all of it. And by the time I realized what he was doing, I must’ve been like sixteen or something, it was too late. So, he never let me release anything. And anything I officially record, anything that’s not just me in my bedroom, it all belongs to him.”

“That--That’s bullshit! That’s complete and utter bullshit. He doesn’t own you. You’re a grown ass man, Shawn. There are ways. There are people we can get you connected to. You can make music just like anyone else.”

She’s fired up now. She turns to face him, instead of lying against his chest. Her fingers are still intertwined with his, and she lifts both of them to touch his cheek. It’s so sweet and good and kind. Everything he thought he might never get to have.

He smiles at her sadly. “I know. But, I wrote about two hundred songs. And so...on my eighteenth birthday he brought me into his office. I was gonna run away, or whatever the rich kid version of that is, start my own life and my own career. He said if I...if I worked for him till I was twenty-five, he’d give me my inheritance and my masters.”

“Shawn…” She sighed.

“I know, hey I know. It sounds crazy, but y/n this is all that I have. That music, it’s all that I am. It means everything to me. I need it okay? So, I’m stuck here for a little while. And I’m gonna be okay with that if it means I get them back in the end.”

“Okay. Okay. I understand. Come here.”

It’s the wildest thing in the world. She’s sat in his lap and and all of a sudden she just wraps herself around him. His head falls to her chest. Her fingers scratch at his scalp. She just holds him. And his heart feels better because of it. He is better because of it. And he never could have seen that coming. He couldn’t remember the last time someone had hugged him so intimately, had helped him so thoroughly in such a small amount of time. He pulled his arms back around her in return and released a breath and maybe an ounce of the burden too.

“I’m sorry your dad is satan.” She cooed softly.

He chuckled sadly into her neck. “Thank you. Me too.”

“We’ll get through it. Somehow. Just let me think for a little while.”

“We?” He asked, voice small.

“Duh. Haven’t you heard? Hell hath no furry like a Black woman. We’ll figure it out.”

Huh.

“Okay.”

She fell back gently against the couch, her legs making way for him to lie between. He nestled his way into her arms and just sort of collapsed. She does this ridiculous thing with her fingers in his hair and he just kind of wants to cry and fall asleep. But it’s cool. It’s totally fine. They lie there so long he’s not sure what time of day it is when he sleepily nuzzles his nose into her belly.

“Y/n?” He mumbled sleepily.

“Yea?”

“This was the best date of my life.”

“Hmmm. Me too.”

***

He liked to bug her when she was on her way to really important meetings. It was usually the only time in the day he got to talk to her on the phone, and it brought him a happiness that somehow managed to get him through his day. Today, he’s listening to the click of her heels as she rushes to finalizes someone’s performance for the VMA’s.

“If I have to look at one more jackass try and tell me how to handle my job, I’m gonna start cutting bitches.” She huffed.

He chuckled. “If the police call, I’ll give you an alibi. Speaking of alibis, you think I could come over tonight?”

“Hmm...you been spending a lot more time at my place since you found out I know how to turn on a stove.”

“It’s not about the stove. It’s about the woman behind it.” He admitted. “I like watching you in your space, in your element. And I like being with you. Is that okay?”

“Yea...that’s okay.” She said, voice soft and pliant now. “Maybe we could watch another one of those movies of yours.”

He clenched painfully at his chest in both horror and somehow fond adoration.

“I still can’t believe you’ve never seen Harry Potter. That is genuinely the most heartbreaking thing I’ve ever heard. Our night is settled. Prisoner of Azkaban it is!”

“I’ll watch Prisoner of Azakaban if you do something for me.”

He rolled his eyes spinning aimlessly at his desk chair. He couldn’t even imagine having to make a deal with someone to get them to watch Harry Potter. What would his mum think if he brought this one home?

“I’m slightly offended at the sentiment but okay.”

“It’s just that there’s something I’ve always wanted to try but I’ve never trusted anyone enough to do it with?” She admitted. “But I think...I mean I want to try.”

At this point he thinks she’s talking about like a fear of rollercoasters or overcoming stage fright or some shit. You know, like an idiot.

“Well whatever it is y/n, I’ll do whatever to make it happen. You know that.”

She paused. “I--I want you to choke me.”

And that’s when he nearly falls out of his desk chair and straight onto the floor. Also like an idiot.

“I--I’m sorry?”

“You know like...like choking Shawn.” She huffed, clearly flustered.

“Yes, yes I know what choking is y/n! I just...you really want that?”

“Well I--I did. But if you’re not down with it then fuck it.” She mumbled.

“No! Shit, no that--that isn’t what I meant. I just wanted to check in and make sure. I’m sorry okay? I just didn’t expect that to be a thing for you is all. I’m not kink shaming, I promise.” He assured her.

“Okay...well then what are you doing?”

“I’m . . . I’m coming over to my girl’s place tonight for some Harry Potter and consensual choking. Sounds like my kinda night, honestly.”

He could hear her smile over the phone, and it made his chest feel fuller at the thought.

“Are you sure? You’re sure you’re okay with it?”

“Of course. Just want to make sure you’re safe. We can talk about it tonight, okay?”

“Okay. I’ll see you tonight then.”

“Yes you will.”

“Boy, get off my phone.”

***

*y/n’s point of view*

Who knew that the doorbell ringing could cause butterflies in your stomach. Certainly not you. Every day you spent with Shawn was this sort of awe inducing, stomach churning, spell. He was so soft to you. So playful and vulnerable and kind. Still cocky. Still an asshole sometimes. But at least with the good grace to smile apologetically when he did it. Everyone’s a work in progress.

You found yourself running straight home from work to change clothes before he got there, the same that you’d done every other night the last few weeks. Shawn had yet to spend a full night in your apartment and the significance of such a thing weighed heavily on both of you. You might let him fall asleep in the moment, might be so exhausted after sex that you were speechless, but make no mistake that by the time the morning came, he was expected to be out. Staying at Shawn’s was one thing. You knew his space and you knew how to handle yourself. But your home was your home. It was the most sacred space that you had in life. Sharing it did not come easily. But maybe, maybe you could grow a little.

You still weren’t over the smile on his face that came when you opened the door. Still couldn’t escape the way it made you feel when he wrapped his arms around you after a long day as if he’d been counting down the hours until he got to see you, exactly the way you sometimes did. It was wild. Everything about him was wild.

“Hi beautiful.” He hummed.

His fingers melded to the back of your neck and it sends a thrill through your body when he pulls you close like a ragdoll. His lips and his tongue still make you shudder. It’s fine.

“Hi.” You sighed breathlessly against his lips. “Missed you.”

“Yea?”

You nodded softly, hesitantly.

“I missed you too.”

Ugh. Gross.

Shawn only needs to step over the threshold to get a whiff of the chili you’d thrown in the crockpot before heading to work. Your momma’s recipe was nothing to mess with, and you had a feeling he would be coming over so it seemed like the logical thing to do. Shawn’s grin convinced you otherwise.

“What happened to no more cooking for me? I believe you said, and I quote: ‘learn to make your own food honkey, I’m not your maid’.”

You rolled your eyes and sniffed noisily. “Why you always gotta remember shit?”

He chuckled. “I don’t know. Something about the things you say, and the way you look when you say ‘em, makes me never wanna forget.”

You bit your lip and turned to lead him towards the kitchen, so that he couldn’t see the way his words made you want to burst from within your own skin.

“So sappy Mendes.”

Feeding him does something to you. You always loved to cook for people and to take care of others in that way. It was ancestral. Your mother had done it and so had her mother and so had hers. You loved watching people enjoy your food. You loved watching people be full and satisfied. But there’s something about the way that Shawn eats that takes it to a whole other level. The way he grabs a second bowl and a third because he eats enough for a small family. Something about the way he praises you endlessly between each bite. And when he washes the dishes after you’re both done, and let’s you know how amazing you are, it feels like a fair trade off. Like perhaps you can do this for him, if he’s willing to do that for you. It feels more domestic and soft then you care to admit to anyone, even yourself. But, here you are.

It’s when you’re at the kitchen counter opening another bottle of wine, and his nose does that thing where it skims your shoulder and you just melt like a teenager all over again, that he really ropes you in.

“Have you showered yet?” He asked softly.

You shook your head. “Just changed. Wanted to get dinner ready for when you got here.”

“Do you wanna shower with me?” His fingers dragged delicately over your thighs and hips before digging ambitiously into the meat of your ass. You raise up on your toes and stifle a moan. “Before we get into bed?”

“Yes. Yes, please.”

In the shower, his fingers paint whole masterpieces against your skin. Your hair piled high on top of your head to hide from the water, but it didn’t stop him from tracing stands along your neck with his wet thumbs. The way that he looks at you is enough to make you feel completely naked beneath his gaze, like it’s your soul on display and not just your body. When he dips down to lick at your collarbones, to suck whole bruises into your flesh, what are you to do but cry out for him? What was there to do but to submit in every way? It’s the moments in the shower, with no words shared between the two of you--only touches and looks of longing, when you know that you’re all his. That perhaps you had never really had a chance to begin with.

He wraps you in a towel and nuzzles his face, warm and wet against your neck. His hands are still on your hips and he squeezes through the cotton firmly as he looks you in the eye.

“You want me to choke you.” He whispered.

And there’s no reason why just a confirmation of the statement should have your eyes rolling back in your head but here you were. Jesus.

“Y--Yea. Yes, I do.”

“Have you thought about it?” He hummed, his fingers dipping to the edge of the towel by your thighs and easing dangerously beneath the fabric. “What you want it to look like?”

Your eyes are shut.

“Yes, I have.”

“Tell me.” He demanded.

You bit anxiously at your lip, a bit of uncertainty hitting you. It wasn’t necessarily that it was the wildest thing that the two of you had done. But it just might be the most important, at least for you. It was no secret that letting go was the hardest thing in the world for you. In part, that’s what made the initial arrangement with you and Shawn so rewarding. When you could let go, these really amazing things would happen, and not just the orgasm but like the stress that ran out of your body. Letting go meant being vulnerable. It meant giving someone power over you and having nothing but your belief in that person to keep you believing that things would be okay. And so sharing this with Shawn wasn’t just a matter of kink, it was a matter of the ultimate amount of trust you could share with him. It also was kind of hot.

“I want...I want you inside of me. I want you to fuck me like--like I’m the only thing in the world that matters, that my pleasure is the only thing in the world that matters.I want you to take care of me. And then I want you to choke me while I cum. I want you to remind me who gets to make me feel that way. You. I want you.”

You let your eyes flutter open and peer up at him nervously. Nothing could have prepared you for what you would find. His eyes were nearly back they were so blown of stimulation. He stared at you with hunger and with passion and maybe a little love too. It’s so overwhelming that when he picks you up in his arms you don’t even register it until your towel falls to the ground and all that’s left is the feel of his skin against yours.

“My good girl,” He sighed breathlessly, lips skimming the skin he’d sucked on just moments prior. “I’m gonna make you feel good, okay? I promise.”

He twirled you lightly through the air taking your body straight down to the sheets of your bed. His towel joined yours on the floor as he crawled perfectly between your legs. Your fingers melded to the muscles of his chest, getting lost in the chest hair and the feel of his necklace cold against your flushed skin. He’s already semi-hard and you can feel him growing firming against your thigh. When he runs his fingers along your chest, between your breasts, and down along your belly button something turns molten within you. The need becomes insurmountable. Your ache is without end.

“Please. Please Shawn just---please.” You begged.

“Hey,” He whispered pressing closer against you. “I’m right here okay? I’m gonna give you everything.”

And how could you prepare yourself for what that might mean. What was everything in a context in which you wanted all that he was willing to give. What did it mean when it was no longer just fucking, but when everything might include your heart too?

He starts with your neck. It’s the most sensitive part of you and it’s already been touched repeatedly. His lips are gentle and searching moving over the places where his tongue had created welts already. He gets to your breasts, hands firm and warm as they cup your flesh to feed your nipple into his mouth. It’s methodical in nature, and it makes your toes curl. He sucks and kisses and bites and you don’t know what to do with yourself. It feels like an act of worship. It feels like all he could ever offer you.

His head finds its way between your thighs and it’s life changing. He runs the flat of his tongue heavy and firm across your clit, pulling off with a very quick point of his tongue, and then repeating. It makes your stomach tense. His fingers grip and mold to your thighs as he licks deep into you. Just like every other time he touches you, your body is like a pipe well primed. It aches for him, and it gushes with ease. A part of you wishes he had to try harder to get you to cum in the manner that he does, but it’s hard to find time to be embarrassed when he’s chasing your release with swollen, hungry lips. When your body falls back down to the sheets you are already fucked out and dazed.

“God. You have no idea how fucking beautiful you are.” He sighed, leaning on his knees above you, fingers cupping his erection to pull playfully at the flesh. “Are you ready for me?”

You nodded without hesitation, tongue sticking out along your lip when he mentions the beauty that he recognizes within you. He’s often too much, but he’s especially too much right now. When he doesn’t move fast enough for your liking you reach for his hips with your hands and tug him close between your legs. He moves--finally--to hover over you while allowing his fist to lead the head of his dick to bump against your clit. You’re still so wet that every rub against your slit is auditory, feels like it’s ringing out against the walls how much you want him. And you do. God, you do.

"The way you open up for me," he gasped wetly against your shoulder. "baby you're perfect."

"Fuck. I--it feels so good." You huff.

"Gonna make it better. Gonna give it you the best you've ever had."

His hands slot your legs around his back, fingers digging deep into the flesh of your ass for leverage. It is ridiculous how good it feels. You don't even know what to do with how he feels inside of you. His hips are powerful and rugged and he touches you with the precision of a man who has listened to your needs and desires. He pushes into you like is the last thrust over and over again until your body is shaking, until your moans for him turn to sobs, until the sound of his hips tapping your ass speeds out of control and the only thing you're left with is to lose your fucking mind.

"Oh--oh my god! Oh my god, baby!"

Your hips fly off the bed but Shawn couldn’t care less. He’s got himself poised over you, arms on either side of your head and he’s going for it. He’s carving himself into you so deep there’s no way to tell where he begins and where you end. And your body is singing his praises. In fact it’s doing that thing that no one had ever had the audacity to make it to before. It’s fucking bursting from within.

“M’ gonna cum.” You whispered desperately up at him.

His nose tips down to skim against yours as your eyes meet and his lips are parted in bliss and concentration.

“Already?” He gasped, lips tilting slightly up into that cocky ass grin of his.

There’s not even time to tell him to fuck off. Your nails are too busy digging into his shoulder blades.

“M’ gonna cum. I--FUCK!”

There’s a gushing sound that joins the wet slap of your bodies and that’s when the both of you look down at where he’s fucking you to see the way your body manages to squirt around him. It covers your thighs and his and makes his dick glisten with every thrust. You’re fucking gone. You collapse down against the sheets gasping for breath and he hasn’t even slowed down.

“Jesus Christ, y/n.” He groaned pushing in again to come to a stop. “You’re shaking.”

Your arms and legs wrap around him in a vice like grip. You close your eyes and try to steady yourself, but it’s damn near impossible. Every part of you is so sensitive, it feels like you’re on the tip of the waterfall constantly, just waiting to fall in. It’s too much.

“You have got approximately sixty seconds to get me to do that again and choke me at the same time. I think my body might combust.” You panted.

This time he stays up on his knees, body not in such direct contact. It’s probably for the best, as even your skin seems to thrum in this moment like a live wire. The last thing you need from him is more contact. So, of course he slots your legs over his shoulders and fucks you within an inch of your life instead.

There’s a sweaty curl that flops against his forehead on every upward thrust. His large hands gripping your thighs for better leverage don’t quite tame the way that you’re shaking. It’s too good. It’s way too good. You reach for the headboard behind you in desperate search for a pillow or literally anything to hold onto. Not even five minutes later and you can feel your hips leaving the bed again, your body ready for that combustion you’d been talking about.

“S--Shawn! Shawn, now.”

“Now?”

“Yes, dammit! Now!”

He licked his lips and bent over you, your body contorting along with him as he reached to skim his fingers along your neck. His hips don’t stop moving as his thumb traces your pulse point. In fact he’s still panting with the effort and it’s everything for you to hear.

“Tap me if it hurts. Tap me if you don’t like it. Just--just tap me okay?” He mumbled.

You nodded vigorously. “Okay.”

“Color?”

“GREEN SHAWN.”

He starts to squeeze down peering between your body to keep hitting it like no one ever has before. It is the most ridiculous moment of your life. The more he loses himself in you, the more he squeezes, and your body just lights up immediately. It’s in the way that his arm tenses, hand clenching around your throat. It’s in the way he moans your name against your lips. It’s definitely in the way he grinds against you so tight that your eyes roll back in your head. With every second that you can’t breathe your orgasm pulses in your veins. And as his fingers grip your throat, you watch the vein in his forehead become just as prominent as that curl as he loses himself too.

“Oh my god. I can feel it. I can feel your body fighting for it, baby. Holy fuck, I’m gonna cum.”

Your back arches off the bed and he grunts as he chases his own orgasm inside of you. The second his fingers ease off your throat as your cumming is like an unworldly experience. It leaves you sobbing against the bed completely fucked out of your mind. If you could feel anything besides intense overstimulation you might notice the way your thighs are soaked all the way down to your knees. The tenderness between your lips. The swollen prominence of your nipples. Instead you’ve got nothing left to give.

He pulls out and just barely collapses against you. His pants are wet and warm against your neck, and his fingers are already rubbing at the place where he’d grabbed your neck. No one talks for a while. To do so might ruin the best orgasm you’ve ever had.

“You’re okay?” He whispered. “Are you sure?”

“Yea. I’m okay. I’m so much more than okay.”

You felt his teeth against your collarbone as he smiled. And you can’t help the giddy little giggle that passes through your lips in response.

“Feel good?”

“Felt so fucking good, asshole.” You muttered affectionately.

The worst thing he could possibly do is get out of bed. The second his arms aren’t wrapped around you, the second he's not pressing you firmly into the bed, feels like an attack against your being. You hate it with everything in you.

"Stay." You mumble pulling him closer with your tired limbs.

He chuckled softly. "Mmm just gonna get the towel to clean up with, love."

"I know but...after that, stay okay? Dont leave...just stay here."

His eyes grow wide and then soft. He cups your cheek gently in his hand and moves forward to kiss you silly. His teeth nip at your bottom lip and you don't even have the time to be nervous. You're too busy falling for him.

"Yea. Okay. I'll stay as long as you want me too."

And wasn’t that dangerous as all hell? But it’s the first time he stays the night, and it’s the first time you’ve got no idea how to ever make him leave.

@simpledomain @liliane106 @kamahriii @sinplisticshawn @lifeoftheparty74 @xeuphorically-moonstruck @euphoric05 @daijanicole @bruhh-whateven @learning-howto-be-myselfx3 @decewill @goldiean @bitchacho25 @bruhh-whateven @justbeingoceana @loveylangdon @iloveshawnieboi @justbeingoceana @september-lace @valedictorian65 @disaster-rose @dimestorebieber22 @MixerMani @disaster-rose @thecurlsofgod @sinplisticshawn

Arrangement Taglist:

@moonlightmendes22 @cottoncandyshawn @iloveshawnieboi @shawnsblue @cottoncandyshawn

@claredolphinbear24 @peterbrokenparker @blackharry @shawnwyr @speakingofmari @moniehp @softmendesss @ydolansss @chonmnds @MixerMani @kitykatnumber @blackharry @chonmnds

#shawn mendes #Shawn mendes fic #Shawn mendes fanfic #Shawn mendes fanfiction #shawn mendes smut #Shawn mendes x you #Shawn mendes x y/n #Shawn mendes x reader #Shawn mendes x black reader #Shawn mendes x black woman #Shawn mendes series #Shawn mendes fluff #Shawn mendes angst #Shawn mendes au #Shawn mendes one shot #Shawn mendes blurb #Arrangement fic

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kazamastar · 4 years

Text

Welcome to 2021

Ver. 2.1 - Ok. February but still, here we are. “Behold it’s me” as Logic would say. [...] I’m sorry I’m a bit shook because I started to write at 10:01AM, and it’s precisely 12:07AM, I was progressing pretty well in the process of writting and then I made a bad move and lost everything I wrote. I’m kinda mad. Really, I was this 👌 close to give up on writting it, and you can notice that the pixels are touching. But I guess the “I said I’d do it, so I’m going to do it” mentality is taking me places, once again. Even if I have to start again (that's called mental strength, take notes). And I said I’d write it baked so here I am, baked and hella motivated to do it. So, W shouldn’t help me reminding me what I wrote in the first version but nevermind. So I guess I'll put the most things I remember. I can tell there were good ideas ! I'll take this occasion to remind everyone the concept of these posts but first we will recap numbers of this year (well, more or less accurate for 2020 as I'm writting one month late) (and I'll fucking stop writting on the tumblr site and switch to OpenOffice so my next words are not lost again). 637 Nakamas (thank y'all for being here, even if I post 12847 times in a row. You're the best). 3609 posts and 23 376 likes. (109 drafts : lol it's less than a few weeks ago)

Pic : Plot twist 2. No more smile, but the return of the bowtie. (aka « The 4 days late suit » aka « I'm old enough to know better »)

The choice of this picture was so simple. Or maybe I should have chosen the one with the mustache only I took during lockdown ? Ahah. But … this picture could almost resume the year on its own. If I'd describe it in depth and explain the context, I could review 70% of the events that happened this year (and I think I'll go for that later, interesting exercise).

So. First let me explain the goal of these sums up. Each « Welcome to XXXX » is a resume, a sum up of the year XXXX-1. I write these for me, it's a funny way to keep track of all these years. I try to describe more or less precisely what happened during the year. I allow myself to be more or less precise because I firstly write these for me. And sometimes these posts tend to be long. Especially this one. It's gonna be sooo long. Like, idk maybe highlight this line and take a few seconds to scroll down and see how looooong it is. Kinda discouraging isn't it ? Lucky you it won't go on forever though as today, as I'm writting that it's 12:23PM and I'll have to be gone at 4 or 5PM. But I think contraints make art, even if I don't like to write under any kind of pressure. But I'm determined to do it in one take. So in these posts I also write about the TV Shows, manga, anime, movies I've seen/read. Even books, as I finally had the chance to read « Le Petit Prince » this year. We all know we had time this year, don't we ? And at the end, I post a 12 songs playlist (+ songs that I discovered this year that also are going to remind me of the year). We can roughly say it's « 1 song/1 month » but it's not always true. These songs are songs I like a lot, like really (but not necessarily my favorite) but above all, they remind me of the year I'm resuming (it can also be older songs). I also post my top 3 albums of the year. I'm thinking also of detailing my choices of playlist. Maybe not explaining all of them but a few. [12:36PM. And I'm already hungry.] On the 1st try I remember I talked about the TV shows I saw. I forgot to mention it but I write in English for a few reasons. First is : it helps me exercising my English. For me, it's the most beautiful langage to talk and it's a good occasion to do so. And then I actually enjoy writting in English. And it prevents unwanted people who don't master English to read all that (as it is pretty intimate). But joke's on me, I'm conscious the people I'd like to keep away from reading this all master English, and even better than me for some of them. (It surely is the case for 27 at least, even though we all know she still won't read this lol). Yes, I never drop names in these sum ups. Or at least, some names are blacklisted. I always chose a number to nominate them they would normally recognize themselves. So, talking about English, I've seen « Emily in Paris » on Netflix. It may surprize you but I'm very interested in dubbing. French dubbing is amazing. For example I bought « Spiderman » on PS4 this year and the french voice is the same voice actor as in the « Amazing Spider-Man » (yes the one with Andrew Garfield). (UNPOPULAR OPINION : Andrew Garfield actually is the best spiderman. Or at least the one I prefer and by far). Emily in Paris is funny because I watched it in English and it kinda disturbed me that it took place in Paris but everybody spoke English. On the other hand, if you watch it in French, langages people are talking become logical (French people speak french) but you'll have to deal with the DEADLY ANNOYING French voice of Emily. And her accent. I think I just watched 1 or 2 episodes like that, I couldn't take more ?. If you have time you should take 5 seconds to listen to what I'm talking about. But it was quite a good show. It was so fun to see these streets I've been visiting for so long in a Netflix show. By the way, I think it's easy to say that I'm missing Paris so much. But not only for the tourism, but most and foremost for the competitions. Before being a tourist I was a competitor there. So, I'm missing Paris but I'm also missing karate competitions. And also just karate. I haven't stepped on a tatami for 3 weeks and it still seems like it won't get better, and we all know why. I'm curious if I could talk about this year without mentioning a very famous virus but I think it's just impossible. But this virus gave me a lot of time in March and April. Maybe less in November tho. I could finally finish The Walking Dead, which last seasons were surprisingly good. And it was so fun to watch the reactions of people on Youtube [#]. Talking about karate competitions, I also watched Cobra Kai ! What an amazing job they did there. Adding more depth to the first movie, it's funny to change perspective and see that the Daniel we were rooting for wasn't that much of a « perfect good guy » we saw (I'm not talking about the kick in the face etc). It's also funny to notice I kinda went fro Daniel to Johnny lol. But having a Netflix show talking about martial arts and value they teach to their students ? It was perfect, even more when you see that some of my students also saw it so when we were training I was refering to it they almost all got it. And it's also funny to see that it's not as Manichean as the 1st movie was. It's a 9/10 for me. If I read the last sum up right, I said : « This year 2020 I really need to watch Kimetsu no yaiba, Jojo, Violet evergarden, Gintama and i have to keep ready 7 deadly sins. » So : Kimetsu no Yaiba was dope. The anime was beautiful and the manga was very entertaining. Not a top tier manga but definitively a good one. Jojo's anime was cool but too long. I stopped after season 2 or 3 I guess ? Violet Evergarden was TRASH (and very bad for a date, if you ask me) and I didn't take time to explore the 2 others. I also saw : Assassination classroom (5/10, i couldn't finish it so i skipped directly to the last episode, was as moving as people said), Validé (8/10, with an insane final episode), No Game No Life (8,5/10, i loved it), Freaks and Geeks (7,5 but i didn't finish it, I really like the old school vibe), Code geass (7/10, great anime and great opening). I finally discovered Community and it was worth it. What a funny show. And what a pleasure to see Mr Donald Glover on screen. Makes me think that I need to watch Atlanta again. The problem with Community is the last seasons broke the 4th wall too much for me, it became painful to watch. But the 3 or 4 seasons are crazy. Another show that was even more funny : IT Crowd. I finally had the chance to see the episode of « I came here to drink milk and kick ass, and I just finished my milk ». This show is a 9,25/10. Grand Army was also a great show of 2020. Dom is an amazing character (but I already said it). Kengan Ashura was also so cool ! I think it's what Baki would have liked to become. This year I also started to watch « American horror Story » again (alone and not alone). These last seasons were awesome. I also converted Elodi to «my hero academia », it was so cool to share that. Other things I saw : SAO S4 (AMAZING, SO BEAUTIFUL), Erased, SNK Last season) ; The Mandalorian, 24's 9th season.« Queen's gambit » have been one of the greatest show I've seen this year. And I really want to say that I played chess before the show came out (add me on Lichess if you want to play with me. Same username. I'm not strong -about 1000 ELO I guess- but I'm always happy to play and learn). If you want a precise idea of my level, on the chess.com app, I can beat Emir 🇹🇷 (1000 ELO) often but I didn't win once against Sven 🇸🇰 (who is ~1100 ELO). I'm so happy talking about all these lengthen the post even more. Kinda satisfying. But I could also talk about Tekken and chess this year. I think I have a thing with dueling sports. I'm a Karate competitor, I love Tekken and I like chess. I guess someone has something to prove haha. But come on, chess is incredible. For the 1st lockdown, I was just playing (not alone) but I wanted to make progress just by practicing. And that's how I got BB 5 or 7 (yes, it means Beat By = my number of loss in a row). But at the end of the 2nd lockdown I finally allowed myself to study a little more, thanks to Youtube (once again). This is SO INTERESTING. Like the strategies, the top players. French content creators are fun but I like american ones more. Eric Rosen is my favourite. He's always calm, he often finds solutions. GothamChess is also very entertaining. You can say by how he talks he has been a teacher. He's great. So, once again on some shonen shit, I started studying more. Mid December, a kid beat me 2 times in a row. He's a smart kid, I like him. He didn't brag or anything. And then, during Christmas Holidays I spent 2 or 3 hours a day watching chess videos. I guess he hasn't been able to beat me since then haha. By the way I should play with him later on today. Playing chess is a way for me to make sure my brain doesn't let me down, like gym for the brain. At least, it's what I thought when I started but I quickly discovered that it's a game of patterns recognizing, so memory is really challenged here. I mean, in the middlegame you have to be smart to get by but at the beginning and ending … you have to know your openings. I have also thought of joining a club but I don't know if chess communities are benevolent. I also noticed that high ranked players seem to have strong personalities. And then for Tekken (yes, 3 years and a half later I'm still on this game) I'm still making progress. In March, someone made me want to play Heihachi. What a funny character. Not top tier, but fun. Leroy Smith is also fun to play. There was no offline tournament but I won one, the 1st organized by Tekken Toulouse and finished 5th at the second. It's funny to live that level of stress straight from my bed. Usually, that kind of stress making my whole body trembling is usually found nearby tatamis of Karate competitons. (Yes, these Tekken tournaments make me stressful and that's the reason I can't play Jin in tournaments). But Eddy is still a sure value. Still progressing in movement, and whiff punishing. Mishimas are getting more consistent on electrics but it's not perfect. By the way, if you love fighting games and Bruce Lee, there's a video you need to see (whoever you are) : [#]. If you're really interested in these topics, you should appreciate this video as much as I did [2:10 PM. I have eaten, but now I have the feeling that I'm late.] Btw I don't skip line to add some « length » effect. Once again I'm sorry if making it until here was painful to read, but I need to make this paragraph the least attractive I can. This line I'm writting is almost on the 3rd page of OpenOffice. And I try to avoid using emojis, so there's just text. Tout dans le fond, pas de forme. Also, congratulations for making it until here, you must be very motivated. I'm writting slowly because it's the 1st time I write this by daytime, and I swear at the begining people were harassing me ahah. It's fun because the sum up of 2019 was so short. Just with its form, you can tell how 2019 have been peaceful. I don't remember if I talked about it already but a disaster could have happened in September/October 2019. But karate kept my mind busy so the worst have been avoided. Time spent on the tatamis kept me away from overthinking about my problems. And that was a good strategy indeed. Because in 2020 it wasn't the same. If we count right. Dojos were opened in January, February, 1st half of march, reopened in September and october, closed on november and opened in December (Mon Dieu quel … CASSE-TEX hahaha merci c'est tout pour moi). It was a weird karate year. Today is the 1 year anniversary of my last competition. During the 1st lockdown, I had litteraly no desire to train. Some of you know why. But let's talk a bit more about COVID and lockdowns. The most important thing is that I didn't spent the 1st lonely. This was the most challenging time of my life, but I can say that I made it thanks to 0808 so I'm eternally grateful for that. So, if we recap months by months : January was a funny month. One thing that I thought a miracle happened (until I found out months later what a real miracle was). I also almost went into a brawl. I guess this weird ass month set the tone for the 11 months to follow. February … was one of the calmest month. I had an awesome dojo session in Balma with 0808 in February. I think there were a lot of beautiful sunsets this month. Guess our weather power was at its peak. These 3 1st months of 2020 had a lot of trainings, even if I was injured due to kumite. March and April are kinda the same for me. I won't talking long about these but I'd simply say that I'm glad that I hadn't to write to 27. So, the Miracle happened by mid April. Mid april to mid may, it was cool. We were at home but … the weather was nice, I was doing sport everyday (but no real karate trainings) and I could keep this rythm of exercising until … Half July, which is good. It's the first time in my life I'm that consistent in doing sports at home. From mid may, I started to train with Coach O. on a weekly basis. It was incredible. These days were still bliss in my mind. I was there, no « real problems » in mind, I wasn't alone, I was making progress physically … It was really great. And from mi may to end of July, it kept getting better.Indeed, I fell in love again in January and it was getting stronger by the months. It's been a while I haven't fell this hard for someone. But she gave it back to me nicely. And then … Mala suerte 3.0. This point of the sum up is funny because I do remember when I talked about mala suerte in the other sum ups. I do realize how it's always the same thing when I write those : « 1st part of the year is cool, then not cool, then cool again but in a weird way because I have insane difficulties to repair broken parts of me » but hey. This time it's not my fault. It makes me realize how cyclic all this is. So, August, September and October have been terrible and chaotic months. A level of sadness rarely reached until there. Maybe comparable to September 2018. A high level of anger also. But still, with rare occasions to train, so no occasions to let go off steam. In fact, let's talk a bit about this anger. I've always took a lot of pride in the fact that I could most of the time remain calm in a lot of situations. Plus, being patient isn't something natural but … I learned to be through the years. I was so surprised to notice how angry I became … It simply wasn't me. But the reason is simple : I really think karate brings me balance in life, on a lot of levels (and it concerns me a lot for when I'll stop competing one day …). But I realized it so I'm working on it. In 2020, I led a lot of fights, sometimes I won and often I lost, but I also avoided a lot of them. One of the reasons I think I'm not ready to be a good partner is first I think I'm too angry. I don't think I could be mean to my partner but … I think I could be annoying to deal with. But mainly, I'm not ready to better myself now. To find the good partner, you need to become a good partner first, and this is precisely what I'm not ready to become. Despite being not perfect, I'm fine that way and I know how far from perfect I'm right now. But nevermind. This is the kind of state of mind you can't afford when you're in a relationship. I'm not saying you need to change to fit your partner's ideals. But if you notice something's wrong in your behaviour/habits and don't want to correct it, you might be a bad partner (but I could be wrong, I'm not a couple therapist lol).

Oh. And that's the moment I can describe my photo to tell the story differently. So this shot was taken precisely on Sunday, 4th of October. 1302 got confirmed so we had to go to the Temple du Salin. I went there with my father and he decided to rock a bowtie so I wanted to match him. It was so fun. That was the first time we stepped in a church after « all these events ». It was a strong moment for me. So, this picture (taken by me, thank you tripod) was taken 4 days after I « took a gamble ». I took a lot of gambles this year. One memorable gamble that lead to beautiful pictures of Toulouse was on August 27th (lol). This was after our breakup. I gave her an adress and an hour, and I hopped she would come. She never came so this was a lost gamble. (So I had a great time watching « Back to the future » outdoors, on a big movie screen, but I was alone). But this time was different. I did suppose she would be at one place on a certain day at the end of September. And I gambled right because she was there. And even if the context was so particular, I can tell we had a great time. I was so ready that I put on my best white shirt, because I knew she kinda liked it. I was there to win her back but I simply failed. Guess the shirt wasn't enough. So it was funny to wear the full suit 4 days later, I was like « Dude, nice effort but it's too late lol» (plus the Temple du Salin is on the other side of the closest bridge from her home) but I still hopped to cross her road on that day. Oh and as we're analyzing this picture, I really like the bokeh on the autmun-colored leaves. I had the luck to have a very sweet light when I took these pictures. And the post processing was really funny. I have a lot of versions of this picture indeed. But all these colors in the background always make me think of a quote I love : « Autumn shows us how beautiful it is to let things go » and this quote is so damn right. I discovered this year that I have difficulties to let things go. The thing is I hate injustice. I hate to see things that litteraly belong to me, things I deserve, simply run away from me. Sometimes I'm telling myself it's just my karma making me pay for all the شيطان I've done in the past. But other times I just try to convince myself to let go. It's been the 2nd most challenging thing this year. These levels of depression have never been reached before. But still, here I am. But not stronger than before. I had this conversation a few weeks ago about « what doesn't kill you makes you stronger ». To support this idea, some people might evoke the principle of « Kintsugi » as an example. But I strongly disagree about the first statement. I'm not a goddamn bowl. I take the example of my lower belly scar : it didn't kill me but it didn't get stronger either. That's the exact opposite indeed. Sometimes it still hurts even though it's been done 12 years ago (the last time it hurt was this night, almost stopping me from finding sleep). It's a personal opinion but what didn't kill me made me weaker. And I'm not just talking about physical injuries. Losing the ability to trust after all these events isn't what I'd call « getting stronger », even though « I didn't do anything wrong ». That's an expensive price. Bref. I think you can overcompensate with something else but the damaged parts may stay weak after. [3:03 PM. So I have about 1 hour to finish it. Easy.] There's one thing I wanted to talk about in this sum up, related to the fact of « being strong ». I read Blach again (you can tell by my december posts) and I started with the lost agent arc, followed by the TYBW arc. There's 2 things about it : its poetry, through the words and the drawings will always amaze me (it amazed me even if it’s the 2nd time I’me reading it), and the 2nd thing : I love how Ichigo become stronger. He lost his Shinigami powers but then found his Fullbring powers. And that is very important because he becomes strong again, but it's a different kind of strong and I LOVE THIS. It's like in real life. I was very strong in June 2012 (videos as proof), but it's not the same strong as in July 2017 or April/November 2018. June and July 2020 have been a different kind of strong. Not that I gained 10 kgs in 2 months (unfortunately) but I was exercising daily. I was getting my body ready for the supposed heavenly month of August that was awaiting me (us). Unfortunately there was no videos of karate at this period (but I made some in september!) but I was feeling great physically. In fact. This May/June/July 2020 period could be considered as “bliss” for me. Of course there was some background problems but ... Mentally I was getting back on my feet, I was deeply in love, physically pretty feeling myself. Plus on the 1st half of July i could go back to the tatamis ... I swear this level of peace and life appreciation have rarely been reached before. Well, this concept of getting stronger differently is almost obsessing me for a simple reason : I'm feeling like I'm getting older. 27 is a weird age for competing in karate. If I look back, I realize I'm older than William when he stopped (it's his birthday tomorrow!!). Also older than Zak, Teddy and so on. I guess I'll never be physically like 10 or 5 years ago but I'm really asking myself if I can be better. But as seen as the pains I go through after the trainings … It's going to be complicated. Plus I did my body wrong this year. There was pain in mars, april, august, september, october, november and december. I tried a lot of things to make it go. I tried to smoke it, i tried to sleep it, i tried to drink it also. I tried to fuck it of course but none of these things worked. But can we consider I won if only my cock still works ? Compared to 2018 : yes it is a win. And at least when I'm with someone, that makes less time crying and overthinking shit. Anyway, I also tried to smoke it really hard. And that's an habit I'll have trouble to let go but nvmd. Still, one of my 2021 resolutions is to smoke less. Also, I took a funny resolution that is : « I'm not accepting defeat this year ». And I realized only a few days after taking it how hard it will be. I'm not dumb, when defeat is unavoidable, I'll just take it. But I decided to be a real Scorpio and be more stubborn than ever. We can say it's above all pride. Same pride as Vegeta, Bakugo or even Endeavour. Really touched me when Bakugo talked about « Absolute victory ». Sometimes I find myself too soft. I'm not going to become an awful person (or at least, not more awful than I am right now). I'll still be kind … But I'll go get the victories I deserve a little harder. Talking about my age, I'm a bit deceived I have no close old friends to share the memories. Every one is kinda gone. Sometimes it's my fault, and sometimes it's just people who are shit but life's like this. Also, every year I try to think of my best encounter of the year. It's kinda hard because sometimes, you meet someone a few years earlier but you really get to know each other later etc … So I'm not clear if this should count only people met this year or simply the people I've spent the best times with. Because I received a curious message this summer and my God. What a luck she took the chance to write me. We realized a few days ago we were in the same class in 10th grade (2nde) (we saw the class picture, what a laughter we had). We get along so well. And it's the proof that 2nd chances deserve to be given. I swear that I also lost some important people this year. But I'm not fighting to get people back anymore. I've done it too much and I'm simply done. People need to realize it's a luck to be in my life. I have my ways but you'll hardly find a friend that's patient and kind as I am. But nevermind, it always makes more time and attention for the people who are here, who really care for my hapiness. Focusing on the people who are here was one of the main concern this year, for a lot of reasons. I thought I was good for selecting the good people in my life but looks like I still can improve. So I'm still letting people go off my life. [3:36PM. Guess I said mostly what I had to say. Maybe 5 pages is enough, but maybe not.] Oh I can still tell the rest of the year. November have been one peaceful month. Away from all the obsessions. Focused on me. No karate but still courses by videoconference. The weather was very sweet even tho it was November. This second lockdown was not that funny but we've seen worst. And December … had it's ups and downs. It was cool to meet my kids 1 month after all these video courses. They clearly got stronger, it was cool. I could also talk about my experience as a sensei this year because there's a lot to say. At the beginning of February, it was my last competition but also for my kids. We litteraly took the competition by storm. On était TROP CHAUDS. But then the Covid stopped us. We kinda were ready for Occitanie championship, if you forget that I was sick the week before the competition. I'd have loved so much to see how far their training would have taken them on this competition. But thank God they cancelled it, guess He didn't want to see me lose ahah. So, I've seen a lot of kids getting better. What a pleasure. Later on this year I told them that I wanted to see them become stronger than me. Seems cliché, but I'm happy they took it seriously. Of course I'm dead serious. We also talked about I will be waiting for them in Senior. Hope they'll continue until then. And above all I hope I will still be competing. I really want to have a positive impact on these kids, competitors or not. And I guess it's working. (Btw I'll surely do a post about Whitebeard soon, just to show him love). So. What lessons can we draw from this chaotic year ? Always treat your high school comrades well. Be picky about who you let in your life. Before engaging in a relationship, ask why her previous relationship ended. Trust no B. (And BBW's are heaven sent). Now it's 3:50PM and I guess I'm done. But I keep myself the possibility to add things if I think of things to add. It's 6 pages long (Arial, 12) but if I can make it longer I will.

[Friday. 00:55AM] Edit : Ok. The story is funny. I really wanted to finish that in one day. So I wrote the previous lines between 10 AM and 4 PM Wednesday knowing I would need more time, just to check and to add a few more details. And one of those Lonely Wednesday Night would have been perfect just to finish the job. So I planned to finish it on wednesday night but the fact is I forgot my computer home …. So here I am one day later. Still baked, so still in the right state of mind to do it. It gave me time to proofread myself (?) and most importantly, it gave me time to read again some of my previous sum ups. It was interesting to compare how they're all different, and also how my writting evolved. Tbh I think I'm becoming more comfortable with my English. Or maybe the more I express myself, the more I look at ease with the langage. This sum up is the longest I've ever written. But still, I'll add things because I still haven't told everything. For example, I haven't spoken about the fact that all the Kazamastar adventure might be closer to the end than the beginning. Like, I'm not immediatly done with all that. I'm still having a lot of fun here. Anon visitors are also part of the game, but it's still all fun. It also keeps my « photograph eye » opened. This makes me think of the quote «I want to be so awfully happy that I never need to write poetry again. » [#] and more precisely I'm thinking about : do I post more when I'm happy or sad ? But I noticed this tumblr kinda works like therapy for me. (And especially, this post is a therapy by itself. Wednesday I woke up feeling bad, lower belly aching and making this post really helped me going through the day.) I post a lot when I'm sad but it really allows me to get all of these negative feelings out of me. I do stylize things but I know I'm not a poet or anything. But can you imagine being so happy that you don't write again ? Would be an amazing feeling. (Indeed, I've already done it once [#]. I've ended a blog on a perfect happiness and yes it felt amazing. ) Imagine if I do it here. After all the trials and tribulations I went through, it would be a perfect way to finish this tumblr. But as I'm speaking, I think there's like … less than 5% chance that it ends happily. If it does, it could be in a long time. I have a few ideas of when and how it could end, but Imma have to keep these selfishly for myself. You'll see when we'll get there.:) Also, I'm realizing right now the things I'm adding to the text make the timestamps through the text a bit less accurate but that's just a detail. [2:37 AM] Earlier I talked about this blog being a therapy for me. But it’s not only this tumblr. This year I proudly finished another tumblr (yes you can guess I was proud as I posted about that 17325 times already and pinned a post). This was such a relief to end it after letting it still for litteraly 2 years. Well that’s it for tonight !

No transition : let's go for the explanations of my choices for the playlist followed by the playlist itself. It's kinda easy to understand why « la mienne » is here, for the first month. This “I can’t touch you I’m not allowed to” really made me think of someone and this someone came back. Incredible. The next song with a Boogie is perfect for February. Very peaceful month, really full of very good moments (in the backseat of a certain car for example). The 2 next songs are for March. These are kinda « lockdown anthems » as The Weeknd album came out right at that time and so did Laylow's. Plus « Escape from LA » have the vibe I really love from Abel. 2 next songs are for April. Dsvn really smashed when he put that « A muse in her feelings » album. (and the « Amusing her feelings » is even better but that won't happen before January 2021). The sequence between « Outlandish – Keep it going - flawless » was one of the best thing I heard musically this year. But keep it going is insane. « Meilleurs » from Oboy is … special. And so are the 2 following songs. Meilleurs is now blacklisted but it's still one good song. But I can't listen to it anymore. Maybe that's exactly because it reminds me June and July. Count me in reminds me precisely of August 8th. Btw what a funny day, very far from all expectations we built up through the years (let's remind that the countdown started with more that 400 days, but I guess patience and loyalty is not always rewarded). I might digress from the playlist one second, but on this day we were in Treilles with the guys, and thank God I had them in this moment ... That’s when I drank to heal, with “count on me” for soundtrack. For September, I hesitated between « DEUX TOILES DE MER » or « MEVTR » (which means « Meilleur d'Entre Vous Tous Reunis », the 1st stage name of Damso). Damso’s flow on MEVTR is huge. He makes a whole verse rhyme and on but … 2 toiles is more iconic. Talking about iconic, « Bande organisée » wasn't a masterpiece but a force to be reckoned with (i find this expression funny ahah). I mean, in hip hop nowadays we don't see often rappers teaming up with big groups like that. Plus on this song particularly some of them have interesing flows and a lot of energy. And you can tell it comes from the South. Not of them are goods, some are excellent but this makes a very decent track. « Route 66 » was cool, even tough it's for November (so 2nd lockdown) it gave me really lovely vibes. And I take this occasion talking about November 2020 to remind it was the 10th anniversary of Kanye West's MBDTF and I celebrated it the right way héhé. Finally, this featuring is really ending the year well. Dinos dropped an insane album, his best since a long time and Tayc also (respectively « Stamina, » and « Fleur froide »). So having them on the same track was risky but it paid very well, incredible vibe from those two combined. They could have been in the top 3 albums but some people made better than them. Trinity is my top 1 one 2020. The concept, the musics … it was INSANE. QALF was also great. It's insane to see Damso get rid of « artistic barriers » to focus only on sound and music. No communication etc … Just music. And Eternal Atake from Lil Uzi Vert because it was long awaited but also because it was perfect, also a 1st lockdown album so it helped me forget my loneliness but so much good tracks ! And finally we have the very special songs that I coudn't tell why I like them. I just love their vibes. So now is 4:15 PM and I'm offically finished but I still have to tweak it. Know I won't hesitate to add things that are related to 2020 and that come to my mind :) Thanks for reading me. Have a lovely day, or night.

2020 Playlist

Tayc – La mienne (Accoustic)

A Boogie – Reply feat Lil Uzi Vert

The Weeknd – Escape for LA

Laylow – Nakré

dvsn – Keep it goin ✨

PartyNextDoor – Believe it feat Rihanna

Trippie Redd & Russ – The Way

OBOY - Meilleurs

Kehlani - Serial Lover

Juice WRLD & Marshmello - Come and go

THEY. - Count me in

Damso - Deux toiles de mer

13 Organisé - Bande organisée

Joe Dwet File - Route 66

Dinos & Tayc - Je wanda

Spécial : Lil Tecca - Last Call YNW Melly - City girls

Jessame - Times we had ~ Dennis Lloyd - Never go back ~ Elliot Trent - computer love

3 top albums de 2020 :

Trinity de Laylow - Qalf de Damso - Eternal atake de Lil Uzi vert

#sum up #resume #welcome to #welcome to 2021 #2020 #me #myself #i

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vicleesi · 5 years

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About GoT Episode 4:

First of all, I’m completely exhausted from turning a blind eye to the multiple flaws in the D & D scripts (and it was they who wrote this episode). The strength of Game of Thrones came right from the details thanks to the incredible world that George R. R. Martin created and D & D destroyed. So no, I will not spare you them.

- The beginning was good. I just do not understand why Jon made his speech without looking at the survivors of Winterfell.

- The party dinner was generally good. In these last seasons, Game of Thrones has managed to maintain a good quality in the interaction between characthers. Episode 2 was basically all that and it was good for me. The problem is when GoT starts off for the story - which is already lost.

- Daenerys’s loneliness was well portrayed. Too bad the series prematurely killed Selmy Barristan, did not it?

- First failure of attention to detail that detracts from the series’ worldbuilding: Gendry Rivers, what? Is he from the Riverlands, by any chance? Bastard born and raised in King’s Landing is named after Waters. His name was Gendry Waters (actually it was just Gendry, since Robert never recognized him as his bastard son). Why change that, D & D? To be different?

- I wish Gendry good luck trying to persuade the Storm lords to bend over to a bastard who does not understand a thing about ruling a castle. But of course the series will not talk about that. At least they did not give Storm’s to Brienne or to Davos (by the way, when the Davos family will show up?)

- Leaving a bit out of order, but taking advantage of feudal politics, what’s going on in Dorne?” D & D mentioned a new Prince of Dorne who swore loyalty to Daenerys. Hi? What? When? Who? WHY??? D & D had the brilliant idea of making the Martells exterminate each other and still reap the rewards of their genius. Dorne remains the worst arc in the series and quite possibly one of the worst book-media visual adaptations ever.

- They also mentioned Riverrun again. What happened to the Riverlands after the Freys all died? Where is Edmure Tully? Who controls Riverrun?

- Writers creating a whole scene by saying that Brienne is a virgin. Not necessary.

- There was not a crippled nephew of Daeron Targaryen. D & D creating Targaryens whenever they want, although there is a well-defined story in the books. (FIRE AND BLOOD)

- There was finally a scene between Sandor and Sansa. It only took 4 episodes to happen. Once again they put Sansa as the product of her suffering, justifying the idiot choices D & D made for her character. Nothing new, otherwise it was a totally forgettable dialogue (I already forgot).

- The Bronn Paradox: If Bronn is not serving Daenerys while the war is rolling, who guarantees that he will receive his castle in the end? Especially considering he was utterly disillusioned with the promises of the Lannisters to the point of being ready to kill his two best friends? In fact, did D & D forget that Jaime himself had offered Highgarden to the Bronn last season?

- Again, as for Gendry, I wish Bronn good luck in trying to establish his feudal dominion over the proud lords of Highgarden who did not even tolerate the right Tyrells, and the Tyrells were an old family and had already been entrenched in there for centuries. Of course, D & D do not care.

- The Paradox of the Wildlings: Why were they known as wildlings? Because they tried to conquer the Wall from time to time and were always looting the North in search of resources and riches. Because their land was a shit, where nothing grew and it was always winter, basically. Now the they finally made it through the Wall and gain access to the best lands, even more with the support of the Winterfell and Starks. What do they do? That’s right: they go back to their shit place because D & D have that same shit on their heads.

- What else is north of Winterfell and south of the Wall are lands with no one, thanks to the King of the Night.“ But the wildlings choose to go back to Castle Black and, by all means, beyond the Wall. Seven Hells.

- I will not even comment on Jon’s scene sending Ghost away.” If it was for him to appear that way, it was better for the wolf to have been m.i.a as before.

- Sam Tarly is a Night’s Watch man. Men of Night’s Watch should not have children. When will anyone say that? Did not Jon even mention it? What happened to Night’s Watch? Why is Sam still dressed in black? If he’s out, why did not he become Lord Tarly?

- The arc of Night’s Watch is going to be without conclusion anyway? Are they gone?

- The army of the living has lost only half its men? It was not what it looked like in episode 3. But okay, D & D create and describe armies whenever they think it’s valid - just like Night’s Watch, apparently.

- As they are doing this season, D & D cut important dialogue scenes because they do not know what to write. In the first episode they cut off Daenerys before she finished threatening Sansa. In the second episode they cut their scene together before Dany could answer the question “What about the North?”. At the end of it cut the scene Jon x Dany in the crypts. Now they cut the scene of Sansa and Arya discovering that Jon is not their brother. Why, man? What is the reason? I’m shocked that D & D did not cut Jon’s reaction to finding out that he’s a bastard of Rhaegar and Lyanna (yes, he’s a bastard, D & D, no matter how many fanfics they write).

- Arya in the first moment: we are a family! Arya in 2nd moment: left King’s Landing, goodbye Winterfell, until never again! and yes she left for good, she said she ain’t coming back!

That was the good part of the episode. Let’s go to the bad part!!

- So you want to tell me that Euron can hit three harpoons in a dragon in mid-flight?“

- So you want to tell me that Daenerys from the sky was unable to see the Greyjoy fleet hidden behind an islet?”

- So you want to tell me that Daenerys never considered the possibility that it was a bad idea to sail to Dragonstone as they knew Euron controlled the seas there?“

- So you want to tell me that Rhaegal was not killed by the zombie dragon brother in the apocalyptic Battle of the long night fighting for the fate of the men’s kingdom only to die in the next episode in a few seconds for Euron Greyjoy’s magical harpoons?

-So you want to tell me how easy it is to kill dragons like that?” It amazes me that Aegon conquered Westeros three hundred years ago.

- Daenerys should have flown directly to King’s Landing and fired at everything after the Rhaegal’s death. Fire and Blood!!

- Jaime returning to Cersei: hi? What the fuck? If it is to join her and not kill her right away, Jaime will be the greatest example of character assassination that D & D has committed since Stannis Baratheon.

- How did Team Dany know that Missandei had been captured? Euron made propaganda, sent in the email?

- Is Varys loyal to Jon Snow? REALLY? What does Varys know about Jon Snow? When did he meet Jon Snow? When did they share at least one scene together? They never talked. Varys never saw him rule. Where do the writers get these crazy ideas?

- Nonsense to be creating intrigue over the marriage between Jon and Daenerys. She will need to get married to have children and continue the dynasty. Who is she getting married to, Hot Pie?

- By the way, there have been marriages between uncles and nieces among the Starks. Brothers Jonnel and Edric Stark married their nieces Serena and Sansa Stark some 150 years ago to try to end a crisis of succession, since their father, Rickon, heir to Winterfell, had been killed in the conquest of Dorne. It would not surprise me if GRRM specifically placed these marriages in history just for this situation that was raised in the conversation between Tyrion and Varys. In fact, marriages between uncles and nieces were not exactly uncommon in our own history. In Brasil, Dom Pedro I was grandson of D. Maria I of Portugal, who was married to his uncle, D. Pedro III, precisely to avoid a dynastic crisis.

- Again the bullshit that Robert’s Rebellion was built on a lie. I imagine the Crazy King burning the Lord of Winterfell and his heir and begging for Ned and Robert’s head did not influence that at all.

- Dany is an emotional woman who’s going crazy. So we need a rational man to help her.

- Dany is an emotional woman who’s going crazy. So we need a rational man to help her!!

- Oh, excuse me if I repeated myself, but this nonsense does not go down. They disrespected Daenerys, disrespected her journey, disrespected even the “girl power” they tried to do last season (Dany, Olenna Tyrell, Cersei and the Martells). The mysoginism of these so-called D & D appearing once more to claim another innocent victim.

- Why did Cersei not kill Tyrion?

- Why did Cersei not kill Daenerys?

- Euron does not suspect anything after Tyrion reveals he knew Cersei was pregnant?“ Since Euron himelf knew only minutes ago?

- D & D really put an end to the apocalypse so we can have Cersei grinning in the last three episodes? Is this serious?

- Euron is Cersei’s puppy. Euron in the series is another completely character , they should have changed his name in the adaptation as they did with the Asha (Yara).

- No turning back with the Night King. D & D make us muggles.

- Finally: where’s the winter ??? It seems King’s Landing is in the tropics.

- Cancel this and the next two episodes. Let GoT finish in episode 3, at least so we would have something minimally satisfying. D & D continue to insult the viewer’s intelligence.

"At least the show’s songs never fails to please.”

*this analysis is not mine I translated from a brazilian friend

#game of thrones #jonerys #daenerys targaryen #jon snow #aegon targaryen #targaryen #jonsnow #got s8 e4 #got season 8 #got spoilers #Euron Greyjoy #Cersei Lannister #Tyrion Lannister #Gendry Baratheon #Gendry Waters #ser bronn #asoiaf spoilers #Kit Harington #emilia clarke

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angelic-holland · 5 years

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Miley // th x fem!oc

Summary: Tom meets a singer at a club she’s performing at and she decides to take him home for the night.

Part of my Drive North series; you can read the rest here. Feel free to listen to the song Miley by the SWMRs, as it is an inspiration for the story. Yes, they are singing about Miley Cyrus but Miley is an OFC here.

Warnings: smut, nsfw, 18+ please, degradation kink, mild choking, dom!Tom (bc ooF), mentions of past drug and alcohol abuse, swearing

word count: 5.4k

Tom was on a small break from filming after the Spiderman: Far From Home premiere. Harrison had brought him to a small club, he said a band was playing he thought Tom would love. He was a few drinks in, hanging out at the bar while Harrison danced with a pretty girl. He heard the band make their way on stage and turned to watch them set up.

****

Miley lit up the blunt and took a drag of it before passing it to Billie, and they passed it to Rainne before Miley took the last drag.

“Alright, fuck pop on three,” she says, holding her hand in the middle as her bandmates followed suit.

“Fuck pop!” The cheered, tossing their hands up in the air, snickering as they left the backroom.

“Hey what’s up fuckers, it’s your least favorite band Cheeky Devils here, time to make some noise!” Miley says into the main microphone, a huge grin spreading across her face as the club cheers and shouts.

****

Holy fuck, Tom watched as the main singer spoke into the microphone. He tried to pay attention to what she said but he could only pay attention to her. She had bright pink hair, a ripped up Green Day T-shirt, a tight leather skirt, fishnet stockings, and leather boots. She had pink lipstick that just about matched her hair and the way she licked her lips as she talked drove him crazy.

He didn’t know who she was but he wanted to find out. He pulls out his phone and googles the band name and finds a website they have, advertising their music, posting upcoming gigs, talking about how each of them came to be in the band. He clicked on her profile, or at least he was pretty sure it was her, the hair in her picture was bright blue but her facial features were the same.

Hey whats up fuckers my names Miley, founder and lead singer of this lil group, just a group of folx trying to figure their lives out and making good music while they do it.

****

Miley was probably a little too high as she sang the chorus of their third song in the set, a little off rhythm and Billie could tell, giving her glances every so often as she jumped up and down, her hair getting stuck in her face.

She scanned the crowd to see if there was anyone she might want to bring home, feeling like it was going to be one of those nights.

It was pretty crowded, the dance floor full of people jumping up and down or grinding on each other. She noticed a few people sitting at the bar, one guy wasn’t paying too much attention, sitting on his phone. When he did look up, his eyes met hers and she let her eyes wander down his body, practically undressing him with her eyes as much as she could.

He was wearing a tight white T-shirt, his arms looked fucking perfect as he took a sip of his drink. He was wearing what looked like jeans that hugged his thighs so nicely she could ride them for days. She knew the weed was making her horny so she shook it off, putting her attention to the final part of the song, making the vocals perfect as it finished. They had another five songs in the set and they took a pause to all grab some water.

“How’s everyone doing tonight? Having fun?” Miley said, her voice rough from some of the shouted lyrics.

The crowd cheered as Rainne cued them for the start of the fourth song.

****

Tom couldn’t help but get hard when he saw the way Miley looked at him. The way her eyes scanned his body, the way she would still sing perfectly while focusing her attention on him.

He fiddled in his seat, downing the rest of his beer and motioning to the bartender for another one.

He scanned the crowd of people, looking for Harrison but noticing that he was nowhere to be found. He must’ve slipped out with whoever he was dancing with.

For the rest of their set Tom just watched, watched as Miley jumped up and down as she sang, her voice rougher and deeper as the night moved on. He smirked when he noticed her nipples through her shirt, not so subconsciously licking his lips.

****

As they finished their set Miley noticed the man licking his lips, his hand gripping his beer bottle so tight she thought it might break.

“Thank you London! Hope to see more of you all later!” Miley said as the crowd cheered, she set the microphone down and grabbed her water bottle finishing it off as her and her bandmates left the stage.

As they made their way back to their dressing room Billie elbowed her, “who were you eye fucking back there?”

“No idea,” Miley laughs, saying hi to some people who were standing around outside their dressing room.

“Can we get a picture with y’all?” A woman asks, eagerly holding up her phone.

“Sure, would love to,” Miley says as the three of them stand behind the woman and smile for her photo.

“Okay, Miley, you’re going to go out there and you’re going to find that guy and fuck him silly,” Billie says as they walk into the dressing room.

“Ughh, I don’t know if he’d be down for what I want,” Miley whines, flopping down on the couch.

“Well, you know what? You’ll never fucking know unless you get your ass out there and find out. And if he’s not down then you kick his ass out of your hotel room. Easy as that,” Billie says.

“Fine, but it’s a total bust I’m gonna kick your ass.”

“Oh it won’t be, I’ve got faith in you and whoever you decide to bring home.”

“Oh shut up, I’m gonna get a little more stoned first,” Miley said digging through her purse to find her dab pen. She took a few hits before tossing it back in her purse, standing up.

“I’ll see you all bright and early at 2pm tomorrow for our drive to the next show, don’t have too much fun fuckers,” Miley says as she left the dressing room.

****

Tom hung out at the bar after the set, finishing his beer and looking towards the hallway that went to what he assumed was the dressing room.

He watched as Miley came walking down the hallway, turning his head when he noticed her notice him staring.

He turned towards the bar and looked down the neck of his empty beer bottle, fingers tapping along the wood of the counter. She sat next to him, his eyes darted to her fingers which seemed to copy his movements, tapping along the counter.

“H-hi,” Tom stuttered out, shit, he’s never been this nervous trying to pick up a girl before.

He turned to face her, watching as she slowly smirked, “you talking to me?”

She still hasn’t turned in her seat, fingers creating a familiar beat against the counter.

“Yes.”

“Is there a reason you said hi or?”

“I, I wanted to say I really loved your set, those were all your songs?”

“Yeah, I wrote most of them, the rest of the band help me come up with the tunes and rhythms and shit.”

“So you’re a writer?”

“Nah, just song lyrics, nothing special,” Miley shakes her head, finally turning it to look at Tom.

She was a lot prettier up close, she only wore the bright pink lipstick, the rest of her face bare, she had lots of freckles which he wasn’t able to see while she was on stage.

“Gonna keep staring at me or say something?”

“Well what do you want me to do?”

“Nah, not how this works cutie, want someone to tell me what they want, what they’re going to do to me. So, you know my name? What’s yours?”

“Tom,” he says, turning his body towards her.

“So Tom, what are you going to do to me? If I think you’re worth my time.”

Tom’s whole demeanor changed, standing up and resting his hand on her opposite hip, his lips ghosting over her ear.

“Well, Miley, you’re the type of girl who’s a leader, who likes to be in charge out here, that’s why you’re being a little bit of a brat, but in the bedroom, oh sweetheart in the bedroom,” Tom says, “in the bedroom you want someone to take control, tell you what to do, make you feel everything and still leave you begging for more.”

She had tilt her head back a little, her hair pushed away from her neck, her eyes shut, imaging what Tom was saying.

“Go on Tom, how’d you make me feel everything?”

“Well Miley, I don’t know if you want me to tell you here, don’t want you to come in front of everyone, so why do I show you?” Tom whispers, his mouth ghosting over her neck now.

“Fuck, let’s get out of here Todd,” Miley grins standing up as Tom stood up with her.

“Hmm, try again sweetheart,” Tom says, pulling her flush against him.

“Tim?” Miley smirks, eyes looking wickedly up at Tom.

“Not quite,” he says, his hands grabbing her ass.

“Tom?”

“There ya go,” He says, pulling her with him towards the front door.

“Hotel’s only a block away,” Miley says as the quickly leave the club.

There was a line of people waiting to get in, a few people noticing the pair and taking pictures, shouting to them.

“Wait, how do they know you?” Miley asks, her brows furrowed.

“I’m full of surprises sweetheart,” Tom says, “lead the way.”

Miley all but drags Tom back to her hotel, his hands all over her, but never where she wanted them the most on the elevator ride up. She manages to unlock her door and he pushes her inside, slamming her back against the door.

“Fuck Tom, wanna show me what you’d do to me?” Miley says as Tom leaves rough marks down her neck.

“Patience sweetheart, come on, strip for me,” he says, stepping away from her.

She grins, walking towards the center of the room in front of the bed, pushing him to sit down on it.

She slowly unzipped her skirt, kicking off her boots while tugging the skirt down her legs.

“Take your time pretty girl, wanna see all of you,” Tom says, resting his hands behind him as he watched Miley strip.

She slowly pulls off the fishnet stockings, underneath was a black thong which left nothing to the imagination. She paused there, shrugging off her leather jacket and playing with her tits above her shirt before pulling it over her head.

“Wow pretty girl, those tits look even better in person. Couldn’t help but think you were teasing everyone when you were jumping up and down tonight, no bra on, could practically see your nipples through your shirt,” Tom says, wetting his lips.

“Had my eyes on you the whole night Tom,” Miley says, pulling her thong down and tossing it to the side.

“I saw the way you looked at me, stripping me with your eyes.”

“Wanna strip you for real,” Miley says, moving to straddle his lap.

“Nuh uh, baby girl,” Tom says, placing his hands on her hips and stopping her.

“What?”

“I think you deserve a punishment, for teasing me all night, for being a little brat,” Tom says and watches as Miley shudders, nodding.

“Anything you don’t want me to do, just tell me to stop okay?” He says, his hands maneuvering her so her cunt rested between his thighs, her upper body resting on the bed next to him.

“Okay Tom,” Miley says, wiggling her ass a little.

“Fuck, you really wanna get it don’t you?” He says, smacking her ass lightly.

“Fuck, come on Tom, show me you’ve got what I want,” Miley says, her hands digging into his leg.

“Don’t tell me what to do, that’s my job,” Tom says as his hand slaps her ass again, causing her to buck against him, “be still baby girl, gotta take your punishment like a good girl.”

“What if I don’t want to be a good girl?”

“Oh yeah? What would you want to be Miley?” Tom says, his hand colliding with her ass again.

“Fuck, Tom!” Miley cries out as he slaps her ass over and over again.

“What do you want to be Miley? Answer me,” Tom says, changing his rhythm, alternating slaps randomly so she never saw what would come next.

“Wanna be, oh fuck, wanna be your slut Tom,” Miley cries out as he pushes her thighs apart.

“Fuck, you’re practically drooling onto the bed for me Miley, such a dirty slut, thinking about what you want me to do to this dripping cunt huh?”

“Fuck, yes please Tom,” Miley says as his hand comes down to smack her cunt, a little lighter than his slaps to her ass. She bucks against him and moans into her arm, trying not to be too loud.

His hand wraps around her pink hair and tugs, forcing her to look up as his other hand slaps her cunt harder.

“Tom!” She cries out as he drops her hair, his hand moving to hold open her thighs.

“Why don’t you get on all fours for me pretty girl?” He says, slapping her ass before running a finger through her dripping cunt. He lets go of her and smirks as she scrambles up farther on the bed, moving to stick her red ass up and her head down.

“You were born to be like this huh, know this position well?” Tom asks, smirking as he moves behind her.

“Yes, fuck, Tom, my favorite position,” Miley whines as his finger slips between her folds, moving to rub her clit a little before pushing into her cunt.

“Take my finger so well, want another one?”

“Yes, please fuck me, please Tom, want another finger, please,” Miley groans as he pushes another finger alongside his first, feeling his jean covered legs rub against her thighs and sore ass.

“This feel good slut? Tell me when you’re going to come, wanna hear you loud and clear,” he says, his thumb rubbing harsh circles on her clit. His other hand holds her ass, switching between groping it and slapping it, watching it bounce as he fucked her with his fingers.

“Fuck, Tom gonna come, almost there,” Miley whines, fucking herself back on his fingers.

He quickly pulls his hands away from her, she could only feel his jeans rough against her as she whined.

“Only good girls get to come, and what are you Miley? Are you a good girl?”

“No, I’m, I’m your slut,” she whines, pushing back against nothing.

“Exactly,” Tom says, his hand trailing up her back to tug at her hair, pulling her back flush against his clothed chest, “and do sluts get to come?”

“No,” Miley stutters out as he drops her back down on the bed.

“Good, now you tell me when you’re close again, or else you’ll get in big trouble,” Tom says, the feeling of his jeans disappearing from her thighs, she turns her head to see him lying on his back, his head right underneath her pussy.

“Yes Tom, tell you when I’m close,” Miley says as his hands wrap around her thighs, bringing her pussy to his lips. He takes his time, slowly licking the juices from her before lightly sucking on her clit, letting her ride his face for a little bit until her whines got a little too high pitched, so he switched to fucking her hole with his tongue, his fingers flicking her clit, causing her to buck and shake above him.

“Fuck, Tom, I’m close again, please don’t stop please let me come, please,” Miley whines, crying out when he pushes her up, wiggling out from underneath her.

“Hmm, don’t think you’ve earned that yet slut,” Tom says, his hands pulling off his jacket and shirt.

“Please, Tom wanna earn it wanna earn the right to come, tell me how to, please,” Miley whines, her cunt clenching around nothing, just waiting for something to fill her.

“Such a needy little slut huh? No worries, I’ll fuck you eventually,” he says slipping off the bed. She starts to turn her head to see what he’s doing but he stops her, “eyes up front baby, be patient.” He quickly strips of his jeans and underwear, grabbing a condom from his wallet and slipping it on.

“Is this what you wanted slut?” He asks as he bottoms out, smirking as she calls out his name.

“Yes Tom, wanted this, wanted you to fuck me,” Miley says as he fucks into her, leaning down to kiss and mark her back with his lips.

“Fuck you’re so tight baby girl, when’s the last time you’ve been fucked?”

“Been a while, been on tour, never found someone willing to, oh fuck, fuck me like this,” Miley groans as he pulls her flush with his bare chest now.

“Oh yeah? Fuck you nice and hard? Fuck you like this?” He says, his words accentuated with each thrust of his hips. His hands grab her tits, pinching her nipples between his fingers as she cries out for him.

“Gonna come, oh god Tom, please can I come? Please let me come,” Miley whines as Tom’s fingers leave her nipples, a hand wrapping around her throat.

“Gimme a second Miley, don’t be fucking greedy, wait for me,” he whispers in her ear, pounding into her as his hand moves to rub her clit, “hold it slut, be a good girl for me and hold it.”

“Fuck, Tom, I-,” her words cut off as his grip tightens around her throat, causing her to clench around him, feeling her orgasm fast approaching.

“Come for me slut,” he says, releasing her throat and dropping her to the bed as he comes, his thumb rubbing steady circles on her clit as she comes around him.

“Thank you, thank you, thank you,” Miley mumbles into the sheets as Tom pulls out of her, stripping his cock off the condom and tossing it in the trash can by the bed. He flops down next to her, pulling her into his chest.

“Was that okay?” He asks, pushing the hair out of her eyes.

“Yes oh my god, that was, amazing,” Miley laughs, coughing a little.

“Here lemme get you some water,” Tom says, scooting out of the bed.

“It’s fine, I gotta pee anyways, I’ll be back,” Miley says standing up and making her way to the bathroom.

***

Miley steps inside the bathroom and closes the door, looking at her appearance in the mirror. Her hair is fucked, her lipstick slightly smeared, marks down the side of her neck, her ass sore.

She peed and grabbed water, taking a sip, coughing a little before bringing the rest back to bed.

“Hey,” Tom says, reaching his arms out.

Miley crawls back into bed, taking another sip of the water before handing it to Tom, cuddling into his side.

“So you gonna tell me how all those people seemed to recognize you?”

“I’m, yeah I’m an actor,” Tom says, placing the water on the side table.

“Woah that’s dope, what movies and shit have you been in?”

“I was in Lost City of Z, Edge of Winter, uhh Spiderman.”

“Oh sick, never seen those, did you like them?”

“Yeah, love it, you’ve seriously never seen me in a movie?”

“Uhh, no? Am I supposed to recognize you or?”

“Nah just thought you might.”

“Yeah I’m not a nerd, don’t watch comic book movies.”

“They aren’t just for nerds!”

“That’s what nerds say.”

“Pssh, I think you’d like the Spiderman movies.”

“Are you a dork in them?”

“Very much so.”

“Who are you? You like a British Spiderman or something?”

“Nope, I’m Spiderman from Queens.”

“Wait, you’re Spiderman Spiderman?”

“Yeah what else would I be?”

“I don’t fucking know,” Miley shrugged, shivering a little.

“Here lemme get our shirts,” Tom says pulling away to grab their shirts from the floor. He tosses them to Miley who pulls on Tom’s as he gets back in bed with his underwear on, pulling her ripped up Green Day T-shirt on.

“Wow this is comfy,” Miley laughs as Tom settles back down beside her.

“So what’s the next stop on this little tour of yours?”

“Scotland, got a cool gig in Edinburgh then Glasgow, we’re opening for a band on tour for the next month.”

“Oh that’s so cool what band?”

“The SWMRs, I don’t know if you’ve ever heard of them, a punk rock band, just released their second album a few months ago.”

“Hmmm, I haven’t but I’ll have to give them a listen.”

“They’re pretty great.”

“I’ll believe it,” Tom says, running his fingers up and down Miley’s arm.

“That was fun, thank you for uh, being down with what I wanted.”

“Of course I’m glad that you took well to what I was thinking you wanted, you know what I wanted to do when I first saw you up close though?”

“What?” Miley laughs as Tom tickles her sides.

“Count your freckles.”

“Oh well buddy that might take a long time,” she says as his hands caress her face.

“I’ve got time.”

He straddles her hips, his finger gently touching each freckle, counting out loud, kissing across her face as he does.

****

“You’ve got 68 freckles on your face,” he says, laying back down next to her.

“Wow, I’ll make sure to keep note of that,” Miley laughs as Tom lays back down next to her.

“This was fun,” Tom says, yawning.

“Yeah, wanna, uhh, no that’s stupid.”

“What? Nothing you could say is stupid.”

“Do you wanna spend the night maybe order some pizza or something?”

“Yeah, I’d like that,” Tom smiles, grabbing his phone.

“I’ll eat literally anything but pineapple,” Miley laughs as Tom opens his phone.

“Three missed calls, hey, my mom called me and she usually only calls me when somethings wrong, I’ll be right back,” Tom says, getting up off the bed.

Miley shrugs, reaching for her purse at the end of the bed and grabbing her phone as Tom walked into the bathroom, returning his mom’s call.

***

“Mum, what’s wrong?” Tom says as his mom picks up the phone.

“Tom oh my god I was so worried, I saw those pictures of you and that girl and I wasn’t sure if I’d ever hear from you again.”

“Wait, what are you talking about?”

“That girl, people are posting photos of you two leaving the club and I looked her up, she’s bad news Tom, she has a pornographic blog, she went to rehab for drinking and cocaine, Tom she’s seriously disturbed.”

“Mum, this is so embarrassing, Miley, she’s just a girl I hooked up with why is this such a big deal?” Tom whispers, not wanting Miley to hear him.

“Because there are photos of you everywhere and everyone is talking about her being a bad influence.”

“What do you mean everyone? The one person who commented and is jealous? Mum I swear, you don’t need to worry about it I’m fine we’re just gonna order pizza and hang out.”

“Tom, you really need to be more careful about who you’re seen with it could really affect you.”

“Mum it’ll all blow over, people will find something else to obsess over, I really don’t think a few pictures of us really matter.”

“Tom, you know what? You can learn from this, you can learn how to control yourself and how to be private with what you do, and who you do it with. I just don’t want you getting hurt.”

“Mum I’m an adult. Stop worrying, I can take care of myself.”

“Love, I’m your mum that doesn’t come with an age limit, I’m supposed to worry.”

“Okay you can worry but just, just let me do me.”

“Okay Tom, just, be safe?”

“I will, promise, love you mum.”

Tom sighs, hanging up and walking back to the bed.

“You know, the internet fucking sucks,” Miley says, showing him a tweet with a picture of them walking out of the club.

“Tom with some cokehead skank, guess he’s hit rock bottom,” Tom reads out loud, “What the fuck?”

“I’m a cokehead skank what can I say? Was that your mom worrying about her boy being with a cokehead skank?”

“Hey, hey, hey,” Tom says, sitting down next to Miley, “you’re not a ‘cokehead skank’ you know. And even if you are, I mean, that’s your decision, so fuck them.”

“I mean, I was, a cokehead skank, I mean, I was young, stupid, our band was just starting out and a guy who was our ‘manager’, he uh, he got me into coke and I had to go to rehab for awhile, now I’m sober, okay well I don’t do coke or drink anymore. I smoke weed but that’s just to take the edge off. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you I should have warned you I just didn’t know you were you and that people would be attacking you or me like this. And jesus, I don’t know why I’m saying all this, I don’t normally ramble, just when I’m nervous.”

“Miley, you don’t, you don’t have to explain yourself to me. Promise. Hey, why don’t we order some pizza, you can talk a little bit if you want, or you could just relax, whatever.”

“Yeah, I’d like that, thanks,” Miley says, resting her head on Tom’s shoulder.

“Alright, What kind of pizza do you want? Dealer’s choice. Fuck that was a bad way of putting it,” Tom says, groaning.

“You’re fine, oh my god that’s so funny,” Miley laughs, “let’s just do a cheese.”

Tom orders a pizza and waits to see if Miley wants to talk.

“You know, I think my favorite part about my mum calling was that she snooped so much into you that she found a porn blog of yours.”

“Oh my god,” Miley groans against his shoulder, “I just, it’s not a porn blog, it’s art, I post pictures of myself in pretty lingerie, tied up, never show my face, only call myself M, I know some of the band’s fans or whatever know about it but oh my she must’ve had to dig deep to find it.”

“I mean, isn’t that basically porn?”

“Let’s call it, artistic pornography.”

Tom burst out laughing watching Miley’s frown break out into giggles.

“My mum thinks that you’re disturbed, I’m not kidding, her words.”

“Well, what other types of girls have you been with that she knows of? Any like me?”

“No, never, always went for the good girls.”

“Ah and we learned that I’m definitely not that. Fortunately for her I’ll be on the road tomorrow and all this will blow over soon enough.”

“You know, I’d love to uh, get the chance to see you again.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah, just a thought.”

“Okay, I’ll give you my blog and you can jack off to pictures of me, I’ll be sure to post some just for you.”

“Oh yeah? What if I want to do more than come all over myself thinking about you?”

“Well, we’ve got all night, you have all the time in the world to fuck me, right now,” Miley says, straddling his hips.

“Fuck, what about the pizza?”

“Gonna make it quick then huh?”

“Yeah we do,” Tom says as Miley pulls his underwear down his legs, only far enough for his cock to bounce up against his stomach.

“Fuck, can I ride you?”

“Yes, gotta grab a condom,” Tom says, watching as Miley scrambles off his lap, grabbing the second condom from his wallet.

“Fuck why do you keep more than one condom in your wallet?”

“Was hoping I’d get lucky sweetheart,” Tom says, moaning as her hand wrapped around his cock, rolling on the condom.

“Well, congrats, you’ve officially gotten lucky,” she says, straddling his hips again.

“Why thank you,” Tom says, kissing her as he slides his cock against her folds. His hands grip her hips, stopping her from sitting fully on his cock.

“Come on, no teasing, we don’t have time for that,” Miley says, gasping as he thrusts up into her, letting her bounce on top of him.

“Gonna make you come quick and dirty, gonna make you come all over my cock before getting our pizza, hair all fucked up, neck all marked up, they’ll know what you did, how does that make you feel Miley?”

“Fuck, Tom, makes me feel, feel dirty Tom,” Miley moans as his hand pinched her nipple over his shirt,

“Yeah? Like a dirty little slut, knowing everyone knows I’m fucking you? Making you mine, fuck, feel so good around my cock.”

“Fuck, Tom, touch my clit, please, wanna come, Tom, make me come, please can I come?”

“Good girl, come on, come all over my cock for me,” Tom says, sucking on a spot on her neck as his thumb rubs her clit.

“Fuck, Tom, oh my god,” Miley cries out, coming around his cock as she moves faster, clenching around him.

“Gonna come, fuck Miley, gonna come in this pretty cunt of yours,” Tom groans as he comes, Miley’s hips slowing.

“Shit,” Miley laughs as Tom’s hands run up and down her sides, helping her off his cock.

His phone buzzes as he’s tossing away the condom, “fuck, that must be the pizza.”

“Go fucking get it dummy,” Miley says, shoving him slightly.

“I’m going, I’m going,” Tom laughs, tugging his underwear back up and grabbing his jeans, pulling them on. He grabs his wallet, flashing Miley a smile before leaving the room.

He whistles as he makes his way down the stairs to the front entrance, eyes widening as he sees cameras flashing and people crowded around the entrance.

“Fuck,” he mutters, calling the pizza guy, “Yeah, is there anyway you could come round the side door? I uh, there’s just a commotion at the front.”

“Yeah I can see, I’ll be around the side in a second,” the guy says before hanging up.

“Thanks mate,” Tom says, paying the man and giving him a nice tip.

He makes his way back up to her room, knocking on the door.

“Who is it?”

“Tom? Duh?”

“Oh sorry I only know a Todd.”

He laughs, leaning his shoulder against the door, “sweetheart I’ll be whoever you want me to be.”

“Well hello there,” Miley says, swinging the door open, laughing as he stumbles into the room.

“Hi,” Tom laughs, pushing the pizza into Miley’s arms before tossing his phone and wallet on the bed and tugging his jeans down his legs again.

“Oh, round three? I don’t know I think I’d pay more attention to this pizza,” Miley says, sitting down on the bed and digging in.

“Hey save me some,” Tom says sitting down next to her and grabbing a slice.

****

Tom watches as Miley packs up her stuff the next morning, moving around the room and tossing her clothes into her suitcase.

“You should get lost, I gotta get drive to Scotland soon.”

“Oh? Well, if we’re ever in the same city at the same time, you should meet up again, you know, have some fun.”

“Oh? Am I your international booty call?” Miley laughs as she zips up her suitcase.

“I can be your international booty call,” Tom says.

“You can keep the shirt, and listen to their music,” Miley nods at her ripped up Green Day shirt Tom wore.

“I think that’s just an excuse for you to wear my shirt.”

“What? Never, take your shirt too I’ll leave this hotel shirtless.”

“No, you keep it, I insist.”

“Wow, such a gentleman,” Miley laughs, grabbing her purse and shrugging on her jacket over Tom’s shirt.

“Here, put your number in my phone, I’ll text you so you have mine,” he says, pushing his phone into Miley’s hand.

“Alright, alright,” Miley laughs at the contact name he had for her, “punk rock queen, really?”

“Yeah, what you don’t like it?”

“No I love it,” Miley giggles as she types her number in, “okay Tom, get outta here,” she says, leaning up to kiss him.

He lets himself get a little lost in the kiss, grabbing her ass in the leggings she wore before she pulls away, “if you keep that up I’m gonna want you to fuck me again and then Billie and Rainne will murder me.”

“Okay, bye Miley,” Tom says, leaving the hotel room.

“Bye Tom,” Miley waves as he shuts the door behind him.

#low key its cute at the end #bc i love hardcore sex with fluffiness #tom holland smut #tom holland one shot #tom holland imagine #tom holland blurb #my writing #tom holland x ofc #tom holland fic #tom holland fanfic #tom holland x ofc one shot #tom holland oneshot

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lilacsolanum · 5 years

Note

Who was your Shepard? What ending did they choose? Did it remind you much of the end of Animorphs?

Did you just– did you just give me an excuse to rant about my Mass Effect experience? WELL THANK YOU!

My Shepard was a fierce dark skinned woman with a penchant for a heavy eyeliner and a dark lip. She originally had a stern bun but I DID give her a haircut between ME2 and ME3 for the drama and she had a buzzcut. She ran around in a hoodie 24/7 and was my butch qween. I named her Ms Nesbit in ME1, but ME1 didn’t understand the space so she ended up being Ms Shepard which honestly was ideal. She was from the tragic Midnoir, and had the “soul survivor” psychological profile. I was absolutely role-playing her, giving her a strong “bright clear line” ruthless and practical moral code. She had. SO many renegade points. It was mostly a renegade play through, but I was always bros with my crew. Well. The crew members I liked. I killed someone on purpose in the suicide mission like. Bye.

I played these games blind and it was the best, not knowing how my choices would play out, not knowing what was coming next.

When I played the ending it was, like, 4 AM and I just wanted to be done so I could focus on writing and not be haunted by my love of this great video game I wanted to play all the time. So like. I wasn’t comprehending anything really, and Shepard was moving SO slowly, and I just went toward the pillar because it was shiny. TECHNICALLY I chose Synthesis, which was the cheesiest and worst ending.

I WANTED to choose Destroy, and would have if I was less of a sleepy bitch. Destroy was what we set out to do, and I don’t think the consequences of the literal universe existing beyond “the cycle” were going to be THAT bad. The Geth chilled out. Everyone calm down. Let’s rebuild.

Because I played a “war is hell, bright clear line” Shepard, the ending with her death DID feel right to me. It WAS very Animorphs-ish. Not everyone makes it out of war. Not everyone survives. But I understand why people hated it, especially if you played paragon. Like I told someone else, then the ending of ME is like if Sailor Moon ended with the gruesome death of Sailor Moon. Really, the thing that reminded me the most of Animorphs was the Krogans.

I wrote out, like, my entire play through under the cut because I was feeling myself and because I have SO MUCH TO SAY and played this video game like ten years after it came out so I only had one other person screaming with me. I (somewhat) restrained my boundless energy on their behalf. Cav is a patient soul.

In ME1, I killed the Rachni queen, because even if she was serving me some buckwild nonsense about songs and the general plot of Ender’s Game I was like bye gurl bye, your race died. It’s dead. It’s far too traumatizing for too many people to bring y'all back. Also, you are litterly a giant spider, absolutely not, no no, do not want, please leave.

I primarily ran Wrex and Kaidan because I very much enjoyed Kaidan’s idealistic banter where he’s just impressed with literally everything and then checking in on Wrex who was just bitter and full of hate. Wrex became my favorite character. I LIVE for a grumpy old man. I got his family armor and managed to chill him out on Virmire on the first choice, which was AMAZING, because I later looked up the other outcomes and found out Ashley would kill him and I would have been TRAUMATIZED. I zoomed in on Ashley being a racist and peaced her out, keeping my boy Kaidan around for another two games.

I accidentally romanced Liara even if I wanted to romance Kaidan, but I WAS flirting with them both for a bit (though I ultimately didn’t get the scene where they both confront me). I also slept with that random Asari lady.

I chose to kill the council in the end. It was the better choice for humanity. We needed to do something big to prove that we’re here, we’re not going away, and we’re just as important as the rest of you.

ME2 is just like Making Friends: The Video Game. Which was honestly so fun, I loved that it was an entire game devoted to character storytelling? I let Garrus break a dude’s legs, but I did not let him kill that man, even if I let him kill the guy in ME1. It honestly felt like letting that dude live was shittier. I killed the heretic Geth because, like, they’re machines, they’ve already been possessed by Reapers, they’re fine. I understand that Legion was doing it’s whole Breq thing but most Geth are just part of a whole. I was fine with it. I had enough Renegade points when I did Tali’s mission to allow her to be proven innocent without revealing her father’s treason, which I’m super glad I did because of it’s effects on ME3. The rest of the missions I basically just went renegade for the points. I loooved Thane, Miranda, and Grunt, fell deeper in love with Garrus and Tali, didn’t spend enough time with Legion but again, I saw the whole individual sentience storyline unfolding and appreciated it, Jack I liked ironically because Oh Boy Everything About Her (LOVED her in ME3 though), and Samara and Jacob were THUMBS DOWN.

And then Mordin. Holy shit. What an amazing character. First of all, he’s the best, second of all, he busts out in a musical number, third of all, his mission is SO BEAUTIFUL AND COMPLEX. But. I ended up destroying both Maelon’s data and Maelon himself.

The genophage was population control, not genocide, and while it’s a harsh method it was the kindest solution at the time. The Krogan really remind me of the Yeerks, actually. When it was pointed out that they were given technology before they had culture, I was like, yes, YES, my favorite children’s books series addressed this SAME THING! And like Yeerks, absolutely, I recognize that some Krogans were good, that they didn’t have the same bloodthirst as others, that they saw a better future. Wrex was one of those Krogans. Wrex had power. But was that enough power? How very easy would it be for a rogue group of Krogans to hide away, procreate, get strong, and go to war with the Urdnots. How very easy would it be to destroy the efforts of one man. It was idealistic to think that just because Wrex had influence, that the entirity of the Krogan race could be changed. Ms Shepard made a hard choice, but she did what she had to do.

Also, my renegade zombie face was fucking hilarious, the drama, the theatrics. When I came back from some mission with red eyes I laughed so much. What a choice. What an amazing choice Bioware made with that. I probed the planets and fixed my busted mug, but not after enjoying my glowing scars and bags under my eyes for a MINUTE.

I two timed Garrus and Thane for a minute, but ultimately I went with Garrus, because I texted my BFF, a normal person who does not write or read about alien fucking, with a photo of the two and he immediately replied with “zaddy with the scope for sure” and it was decided. Thane did call me sita for a hot minute and it was very very sweet. Oh and you knoooooow I flirted with Kelly Chambers HARD.

I played the suicide mission blind and I have this weird habit of overestimating video games when they are CLEARLY telling me what to do and trying to outsmart them, so I somehow lost Thane, Garrus, and Mordin. I broke my rule about not going back on any choice and replayed it to save everyone’s asses, except for Jacob Taylor, who I killed on purpose. No regrets.

And then shit went DOOOOOOOOWN in ME3.

First of all, fuck EDI’s robot body. I was already shipping her with Joker and in no way did they need a physical form, it’s called IMAGINATION. I might write a fic where EDI as a ship’s AI instructs Joker on how to get himself off, Dom style. *I* know how to write an AI/human romance without a robot that has FUCKING HIGH HEELS??? No. Nope. Also, why the hell does literally every male squadmate have to call her hot. What was the point. WHAT WAS THE REASON. WHAT WAS THE REASON BITCH.

I immediately went to deal with the Krogan genophage because I knew some shit was about to go on. This whole thing ended up being maybe one of my absolute favorite story experiences, ever.

It starts happening. Wrex rolls up. He is PISSED at me. He is saying he wished he killed me in Virmire, the first time I blocked a genophage cure. It’s heartbreaking. I loved him so much, and he’s SO ANGRY, and he has every right to be.

Mordin starts his research. Eve is there, she’s fucking ICONIC, her and her 50-year-old diner waitress smoker voice. Poor unfortunate goddamn soul, YES. I love her. But I also doomed her by destroying Maelon’s data.

Then the Salarian talks to me. And I know I’ve chosen this stance for Ms Shepard and that I’m not going back on it. When she says “You stop Mordin from spreading the cure, no matter what” I already knew what was going to happen. It’d been spoiled for his death, yes, but damn. The way it went down.

The first thing that happened that made me go “holy shit” was when we were all flying toward Tuchanka and I had an option to tell everyone about the sabotage. I actually took it. Even if I had this storyline, I had this moment of like, okay, I love these characters, I love Mordin and he’s so happy to redeem himself, I have to tell my friends about what the Salarian wants to do. And I chose that option AND I AM INTERRUPTED AND DON’T GET THE WORDS OUT. I mean WHAT a fucking amazing detail. When the option came back again, to lie to my friends or tell them the truth, I lied.

Watching to confrontation go down with Mordin just destroyed me. The voice actors killed it. I told Maelon about the sabotage. It was so fucking emotional. “I MADE A MISTAKE! I made a mistake. I focused on the big picture. Big picture made of little pictures.” Just. Holy shit. And I knew what was about to happen and what I would have to do, and even if it was a video game, I was IN IT. It was the fact that the renegade interrupt was in slow motion that absolutely got me. That there was extra time to think about it, to let him go. I closed my eyes and hit my mouse trigger and Shepard shot Mordin. The way she walked off and threw her gun to the side was devastating. And then the game made me watch Mordin drag his dying body across the tower to try and get to the controls, saying, “Not yet, not ready, not ready,” which was honestly very rude. And then the cutscene where Wrex looked out on his planet, joy and awe on his face, that was also incredibly rude.

I later watched the paragon version and just. “I’m the very model of a-” SUPER. RUDE.

I knew doing all this meant I would also have to kill Wrex. That wasn’t a spoiler, that’s just logic. So one day I go to the Citadel, lalala, fetch quest fetch quest fetch quest, and then I go back to my ship and BAM. Wrex. How fucking brilliant. There is no moment around his confrontation, no visit to Tuchanka. It hits you when you’re completely off guard. He also called me out on not doing the “Bomb on Tuchanka” mission because I did things out of order. Found Grunt, go cure genophage. I shot Wrex. Bailey would have, but it was my responsibility.

Later, Garrus called me out on everything during his “tough call” scene. I told him what I did. The way he then asks, “Did Mordin just go along with it?” and Shepard just walks off was so good.

So.

All of Legions missions were SO cool. I’m learning I have such a weakness for robots/AIs and sentience. “Do these units have a soul?” Also it’s little inner brain Tron world was great, and how the Geth remember the Quarians who were kind was just beautiful. When it came time to choose between the Geth and the Quarians, I was able to save both. Even if that wasn’t the most renegade-y choice, it came from my original mission statement: bright, clear line. Both forces living meant both forces could fight. The rest of my “storyline” was so super dark that this moment felt really triumphant it my little role play? It reminded me of The Doctor saying “This time, everybody lives!”

The rest of the game was just “How many people can Liana kill?”

When Thane died, he called me sita one more time, even if I didn’t commit to him, and it BROKE MY FUCKING HEART. What a great detail to bring back one last time. When Bioware is on, it is ON.

When Samara held a gun to her head I was just like “See ya later alligator.” What a boring character. btw, the whole Morinth thing could have been SO cool but ended up so lame. I didn’t have enough renegade points to get her and I don’t even care. Bye. I didn’t give Miranda Alliance support so SHE died. That was sad. Grunt survived because my baby boy was loyal, but he might have died since I didn’t deal with the bomb. I was supposed to get a poorly spelled message from him according to the internet, and I never did, so uhhhh oops. Sorry, my son. Kaidan didn’t die during his little freak out because we were besties.

When Liara asked me if we were still dating, I said yes, then I immediately went to Garrus and he asked me if we were still dating and I ALSO said yes, then I flirted with James Vega and Samantha Traynor a lot. Eventually, during Garrus’s personal quest, he asked me if I was ready to be a one Turian kind of woman. I said no and he took the rejection well. Then I went to see Kaidan, and he told me he had feelings, and I locked in with him. I love the idea of Kaidan, who is kind of sheltered and idealistic, attempting to protect and soothe this war torn woman, while accepting the darkness of war himself and questioning his place in it. I loved the idea of us breaking apart, but brief grounded moments with one another. Plus Garrus never even seemed THAT into me, like, yeah you’re awkward bro but idk give me a cute nickname or SOMETHING, and Liara was boring. Liara was SO PISSED AT ME LMAOOO she used A Tone when I would go visit her in her little office and like stopped talking to me. It was hilarious.

I can’t remember if anything else super relavant happed in ME3. I hated Cortez’s “bury your gays” storyline. Gays can do more than be sad. Samantha Traynor was such an afterthought. I still don’t understand why a femShep couldn’t romance Jack, who is canonically bisexual, and I wish that was an option in ME3. I love that Kaidan came back bisexual, like he was just on his little Barbarella journey. What happeneds on Horizon, stays in Horizon.

I have written too much that no one, if anyone, will read, and I must sleep now before I chose the Symbosis ending again.

#zarohk

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