#and yet I am still weak in the knees when we play guitar together

[yoongiblunt]

My toxic trait is that I am endlessly weak to this one skinny white man.

I’ve liked him for almost as long as I’ve worked at my job, but it’s been in various waves.

A friend of mine expressed interest in him though and I am the most noncommittal, I will ruin that boy, I can’t stand intimacy dirt bag on the planet and I just wanted someone to make him happy tbh. Cause I would def make him a worse alcoholic bc my own substance abuse issues would become his, and he has enough to worry about.

She’s also one of the most wonderful people I’ve ever known. I think that if she wants to have at him, she can.

But then she got a boyfriend and I thought it was cool to start talking to him again bc she wasn’t.

At some point her and her bf broke up— when, I’m not sure bc she was even talking about playing step mom to that other guys kid. Like, I thought I wasn’t infringing on anything.

So him and I have some various ups and downs in that, mostly him just being very caught up in his sexuality. He has been open about being a little gay. He has also been a “I wish you would stop avoiding my eyes when we work together. When you won’t look at me it hurts me” ass dude. I hate him lmao.

At my birthday party him and I got really drunk on my friends couch and things got kinda serious in terms of him like, wanting to talk about identity and sexuality and shit. All the yellow tape that comes w knowing me.

Next thing I know we are working together and talking nonstop about our feelings and I get him high w me and we talk more about our feelings and then suddenly those two are talking.

Suddenly she isn’t talking to me.

Suddenly she IS talking to me and it’s apologies for being with him when she ‘knew there were feelings there’. I just told her it was chill and that I cared more about her than a guy, which will always be true.

The three of us are really working on being better to each other. Yesterday she drove me to work. I still get butterflies when I talk to her boyfriend but I keep it normal. I only talk music and video games with him. Yesterday he was doing shots with me and we were talking about elder scrolls because I was on some ‘I’ve heard tell of this “shot” you speak of’ bullshit at the bar and it had him laughing. Men can be bros after flirting with each other for 6 months straight. I’m determined I can be his friend and nothing more because honestly not having him as a fixture in my life would ruin everything. He’s someone I respect and think highly of as a person and as a musician.

Then last night we were both trashed and I invited him to come sit and have a cigarette while we watched the band play— he was doing sound. So it’s just two jessie pinkman ass dudes mumbling to one another, shoulder to shoulder, about sound and he’s getting anxious that the levels are off and I’m like dude where’s ur board go tinker. He says it’s too far away from us he doesn’t want to move but he wants me to listen. Tbh I think the levels were fine and the drummer was just blasting to do it. I see his gf walking nearby and invite her to sit with us, but she doesn’t hear me. I had wanted her to take my spot, just to b cool, bc our knees are touching and we are leaning into each others ears to hear one another and I didn’t want it to look like we are being any kind of way.

He tells me not to move and that he is his own person. It’s around then that she gives me a look, and I can read it easily. I need to back off, and I don’t mind. I know boundaries, so I lean away from him and say I need to go get another shot.

I come back and our friend Jamarion is slumpt out on the table, too drunk and percd out. Im not letting this kid get sick like that so I get him a water and tho I’m off the clock hit the managers office to get one of his friends to come pick him up cause none of the immediate people are good to drive.

Manager Caleb comes up and asked what I’m doing, he’s chill and loves all of us and just wants us to b safe. Man smokes weed w me in the dumpster daily. He heads out to Jay and is tryna help him and my guy gets all weird like you shouldn’t have told Caleb????

I have to calm him down cause he’s like, upset that I got Caleb to help Jay, as if that even really matters. Jay is not trippin we get him inside and my friend Fay says that they can get him home when we leave. Fay and I go everywhere together. So we leave Jay in the inside bar w the other kitchen guys and Caleb and go back out to the deck to listen to music.

Cam and I sit next to each other, his hand will brush mine from time to time, and I will forever be too weak to him in that way because I do miss when he would come up behind me and ruffle my hair and ask me to smoke a spliff w him in his truck and we would talk about kissing but never do it because we were both too straight to do that.

I miss having a gay torrid romance, but never enough to hurt my friend or infringe. I kissed her goodbye and told her I loved her to death and took Jay home. I spent the rest of the night being emo and playing guitar and talking about him.

Tbh I hate it here.

[goldenkirstein]

aot band! au headcanons pt. 1:

pt. two here

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pairing: jean x fem! reader, eren x fem! reader, zeke x fem! reader

wc: 1.2k+

cw: smut (18+ minors DNI), reader has female anatomy, manipulation/corruption, dumbification/incoherence, sorta dubcon (?), mentions of spit, cockwarming, unprotected sex, cursing, dirty talk, creampie/breeding, cumplay, degradation, perv! zeke.

a/n: okayyyyy, so im reposting this, because i didn't like it the first time i posted it lol. i added and cut out some things still don't know if i really like it. anyways, i tried my best with tagging everything, i really hope i didn't miss anything, if i did please let me know. this is my first time writing anything smutty, i'd love to hear any feedback or criticism !!

⋆⋅☆⋅⋆

smut under the cut

jean kirstein

Jean would play the electric guitar.

He wouldn't have any big tattoos but tiny stick and pokes, but when he takes off his shirt, there would be this giant, intricate tattoo that spans his entire back.

He wears thin white t-shirts that cling to his body when he gets all sweaty from performing or when he douses himself in water because the lights make it really hot on stage, babe. The shirt becomes practically see-through, and when he turns around, you can see the outline of the back tattoo. You swear he does it on purpose.

HIS HANDS, calloused from hours of practice, wears chunky silver rings that make his long fingers stand out. He keeps his ring finger empty, though (he's a romantic and a big ol’ softie).

When he's writing songs or can't figure out what chord would sound right, he plays with his rings. He takes them off, sliding them up and down his finger until he's satisfied and moves on to the others.

It drives him insane if he sees you singing along to his songs at the concerts. He'll smirk at you, opting for a quick wink, before getting back to performing.

After the show, he’ll pull you into his lap, in whatever empty room is available. He’ll have his hands on your hips, the cold rings contrasting against your hot skin.

His heart would be beating so fast, adrenaline pumping through his veins. He just got off stage, and here you are, grinding down on the growing bulge in his pants, driving him crazy.

On most days, he liked it when you would fuck him post-show, sliding your skirt up and sink down on his cock.

He loved watching you fuck yourself dumb around him, tits bouncing in his face, head thrown back in pleasure. His cock would reduce you into an incoherent blubbering mess. The only thing making sense was the way you were chanting his name like a prayer.

this fucker would love to whisper the most filthy things in your ear, “you’re making such a mess around my cock, petal. You’re gonna be a good slut and clean it up after, right?”

when he’s about to cum, he turns into an absolute mess. He gets super whimpery and will hold you close to his chest as he dumps his load in you. He stays like that for a while, watching as his cum drips out of your cunt and down his dick.

He doesn’t let you get off his cock, partly because he’s so sensitive and partly because he secretly wants to stuff you full of his babies.

after he’s calmed down a bit, he’ll open his eyes and run a hand through his hair, letting out a small chuckle, “shit, baby, you keep fucking me like that and I might just have to put a ring around that finger.”

eren yeager

plays bass and is on vocals

he has a sleeve on one arm, and the other one is empty. It's pretty cohesive, and the pieces link together-think American traditional; he takes great pride in his tattoos. After all, they're pieces of art on his body.

He likes showing off on stage. He’ll take off his shirt and throw it into the crowd, and he loves hearing the screams that ensue afterwards.

Always the performer; he’ll walk off the stage and stand on the rails, getting the people in the crowd to run their hands down his sweat-slicked torso. It’s another crowd favourite.

he wears rings too, and his favourite thing to do is to get you to pull them off his fingers using your mouth. He has to coax you into each time, “I can’t pull them off by myself; they’re too tight, need your help, angel.” He just likes having you suck on his fingers; he won’t tell you that, though.

He likes the attention from the fans, but he mainly does it to get you hot and bothered. Eren stares at you while strangers are practically grabbing at him. It’s a game for him. Figure out just how many ways he can get to you.

you always avoid him after the shows, in a way to tell him that you're not impressed by the stunts he pulls.

As much as you try to run and hide, he always finds you. He’ll come up from behind, hands on your waist; you don’t need to see him to know that he’s got that Cheshire cat grin on his face.

Try to escape from his grip, and it’ll only get tighter, “what’d you think of my little performance, princess? Did it make you weak in the knees?”

He loves pushing your buttons, does everything to get a reaction out of you, try all you might, the night always ends the same way, you bent over his dressing room table, skirt lifted, panties to the side, and him fucking ruthlessly into you from behind.

the stoic front you put up would be practically erased from the way his cock slides in and out of your spongy walls, hitting that sweet spot over and over again.

He loves hearing you beg for him; he wants to listen to the vulgar words fall from your mouth, wants to have you begging him to let you cum, pleading for him to cum in your pussy.

He’ll tease you endlessly, “what’s that angel? If you want my cum so bad, you gotta beg better than that.” In the end, he always gives in, also liking the way his seed drips out of your pulsating hole.

Before any can drip down your thighs, he’ll slide back your panties, straighten out your skirt and send you off, saying that, “it’s for later, for when you try fingering that pretty little pussy, you’ll always have a reminder of who owns it.”

Bonus: tour manager! zeke yeager:

tour manager zeke, who watches the shows from the venue’s back, keeping his eyes trained on you.

Tour manager zeke who has a reputation for being a sleazebag, a cheapskate and vile to women.

Tour manager zeke, who watches as you stay back after each show to clean up, smiling ever so sweetly at him, “no mr. yeager, I really don’t mind helping out. It’s the least I can do.”

tour manager zeke, who can’t help think of shameful things when you bend over to pick up the crumpled posters, his eyes that linger a little too long at the swell of your pert ass.

Tour manager zeke thinks about how your mouth would feel around his cock, how your eyes would tear up as he pushed your head further and further down his cock. How pretty you would look with spit and cum coating that sweet face of yours.

Tour manager zeke, who has always been kind to you, offering to take you home for the night, telling you how cute you look and how he can’t believe you’re over 18.

Tour manager zeke wants to defile you and make you his, ruin you so that you can only get off from his cock and no one else’s.

Tour manager zeke wants to teach you how to suck dick, how to ride, how to fuck.

Tour manager zeke, who treats you so nicely, putting false notions in your mind so you can let your guard down around him, hoping that one day he can shape you into his plaything.

a/n: hope the smut sounded right this time around lmao, i might scrap it in the morning again idek yet, just wanted to see if i could even write smut.

I am working on the second part of somewhere only we know !! thank you for all the love on that.

if this does well, i'd love to do a part two to this with armin, mikasa and connie, please let me know if that is something you would be interested in !!

as always, if you enjoyed, leave a like/reblog, i truly appreciate it <33

[idjitlili]

The Goblin king...the one without warts.

Thorin x reader.

(Not my image.)

Summary:Imagine being apart of the company, of course Gandalf shoves you in with no choice. Growing close to Thorin eventually, after stopping at an inn.

A/n:Anon request includes ,but I won't spoil it. I do not own any characters.

Word count:4682

Characters:Y/n, the company, humans, elves, and David Bowie as Jareth.

Songs:ziggy stardust, as the world falls down.

Warnings: Alcohol, just ale. Uh mentions of jareths pants , and reference to a jareths 'magic'

It's only forever, it's not long at all. Only if we have forever, but we all die. We are not elves, we are not Morgan Freeman. Unless, you aren't telling me something?

Thus, you must take risks; to live the life you want to. The reason that you finally agreed to go an adventure, via Gandalf's request. Not that the leader of the group, that you'd be joining on this adventure,  did not like the fact that a hobbit was joining , let alone alone you, a human, female. Not impressed to say the least.

You had just ignored the tree trunks insults, and seeking the company of the small hobbit. Both of you were in the same position, except you could maybe launch Thorin over a cliff. 

Unknowingly Thorin had created a friendships, well between you, Bilbo, Fili and Kili. After you and Bilbo had decided to mock Thorin in secret.

"Wait, wait, I've got one." Standing up placing one leg on the log, hands on hips, head up , shaking you head slowly as if the wind was blowing it. "How's my hair?" Mocking Thorins low voice, looking at Bilbo who had stopped giggling, moving his eyes crazily to gesture behind you.

Turning your head slightly, to see Thorin staring at you. " Can I help you?" Unmistakable using a lower voice than normal, Thorin scrunched his brows together slightly. "What are you up to?" His eyes glazing over your stature, and posture.

"Oh, If you must know, Bilbo has been making sure that my family jewels have not dropped off due to my massive ego, last time he had to stitch them up because I am such a prick. Not that I could produce because I'm like 160." Maintaining eye contact with Thorin, chest fully pressed into the air, basically superhero pose, now off the log.

Thorin did not understand what you were talking about. "Get your things , we are moving on." Bilbo had just covered his mouth facing down, his eyes looking up.

“Do not test me , Y/n, I will throw you off a cliff, as if you was an end of bread. You are not worthy of this journey," Kili and Fili had been sat by, watching the scene unfold, as Thorin just stared at you. Kili walking over to you.

"Uncle!"

"My sisters son," Pulling Kili into a bear hug, him being the little bear, before pushing him off of you. "Get of me, people will think I'm soft, I am pure steel."   You had not even noticed Thorin leaving.

"That was horrible," It really was, could you be anymore cringy? "You annoyed Uncle though, I am surprised he didn't put you into line." Fili didnt speak much, but when he did, it wasn't useless trivia.

"My arms may have no muscle, but does not mean I couldn't carry both Bilbo and Kili to their horses." Okay, maybe you would be able to actually, but it gained the trios attention. "I highly doubt that, y/n"

Bending your knees so that your back was in front of Kili, hands ready to grab his calves. "Y/n, are you sure? I don't want you t-"" we don't have all day, Kili."

" okay, Thorin." You had scoffed, as Kili had managed to get on your back, arms around your neck, legs around your front. "No, no,no not me." Bilbo shook his head furiously, in disagreement , as you gestures for him to get up.  "Bilbo , please." Bilbo had sighed , as Fili watched you then pick up Bilbo, holding him Bridal style.

It was like carrying nothing, it was definitely a lot of weight, yet you still put in a face and walked through camp with them. Even if you couldn't fight, you weren't completely weak.

You had gained the attention of the dwarves, who Kili waved by in excitement , Bilbo just pretend to be dead in embarrassment.  Thorin had caught your eye for a second as you walked by him, lift Bilbo onto his pony, Thorin told you pack, you were packing...Kili had then gotten off your back when you had kneeled down.

But what you didn't know, was that Thorin eyes were on you most of everyday during the the journey, you just happened to be oblivious to the gazes on you. 

If you did catch Thorins gaze, you just thought that he was judging your actions,others picked up on their kings behaviour.  Though they did not tell you, they did tease Thorin. Well only Dwalin , Kili and Fili dared to.  Actually it was Bilbo who noticed first.

It was probably a few days after almost being eaten by trolls, that Thorin had began to develop feelings. At first he had just thought that you were mildly annoying like his nephews, that impression, was terrible. But once you were all captured by trolls...

You had pretended to be dead, the trolls had tossed you aside, and every time they were not looking you would crawl slightly. Tossing you aside for dessert. Thorin had caught this. Pulling faces as at him, as you slowly got closer, Thorin watching for the trolls.

When you had gotten next to Thorin, you had pulled a knife from you pocket , cutting the sack he was in. You had cut through quite a bit of the sack; when Thorin had pulled his hands out lifting you , shoving you into the sack with him, just as Berts eyes had glided over the dwarves.

That was when the trolls had noticed you had disappeared, but you were stuffed into the bottom of Thorins sack. You were too tall for the sack, your legs curled up, back inbetween Thorins legs. "Where is the human?!" The trolls had began to looking around finding no sign of you ,the moved on soon enough.

"Uh...the-the secret to cooking dwarf, is um..." Bilbo had tried to distract the trolls , after seeing Gandalf of course you couldn't see , you could only smell Thorin.

"Uh...not...not that one, he...he's infected!"

"You what?"

"Yeah he's got worms in his...tubes."

"Ooh!"

"In-in fact, they all have. They're infested with parasites, it's a terrible business, I wouldn't risk it, I really wouldn't."

"Parasites? Did he say parasites?" The dwarves were not the smartest bunch to say the least.

"Yeah, we don't have parasites! You have parasites!"

Thorin had realised that Bilbo is trying to buy them time and kicks Kili, but ends up smacking you with his calf, making you groan , only for Thorin to gently squeeze your shoulder, the trolls had been too busy listening to dwarves , that they never heard your quiet groan.

Gandalf soon had arrived, saving you all as always, the trolls turned to stone. It didn't take long for Bilbo to realise you were missing still. "Where's y/n?"

"I'm over here, Bilbo." You could not get out of the sack neither could Thorin, without someone helping you out. Kili being next to Thorin, had heard your voice, turning to see his uncles, feet looking a bit too pointy. "Where?"

Bilbo had turned in circles in search, Thorin just later there with the most unimpressed face.

"Bilbo, she's over here." Bilbo had hoped over , out of the sack, before opening the sack at the top to allow Thorin could shuffle out. Standing up, Thorin had pulled you up and out by your hand.

"T-thanks, um, your thighs are very comfortable, if I was murderer , I would make them into pillows. Oh, um, thanks , uh," your face flushed pink, noticing how you sounded and that both Bilbo and Kili was right next to you. Sometimes you are ought to think before you speak, a common term taught to children, yet you do not. You had rushed off back to camp, after that.

Tis was a compliment to dwarves for a woman to comment on their thighs or stature.

That was it, Thorin began to notice things about you, you helping Bilbo onto his pony when he needed help, even if he didn't directly ask. The way you'd slip on mud , even if it was dry, save yourself and look around wide eye if anyone had seen. How your arms got tired as you'd try to plait your hair. Slapping Kili gently on the back of the head if he said something mean about one of the others. Normally Kili picked on Ori's knitting .

Of course, Thorin thought his affections only went one way. You could not deny, the dwarven king was intoxicating, you were highly attracted to him. He was a mean guy, no he was not , he didn't want Bilbo to get killed going in this journey to help him.

You hadn't spoken to Thorin directly really, well until he allowed the company to stop at an

inn for the night, which everyone was happy about. The Dwarves were mostly excited for ale. You just hoped they had a deep clean...

Luckily they did , and soon everyone was a sat tables in the pub, 3 separate ones, you being stuck next to Thorin ,Bilbo next to you, Bofur next to him,Kili and Fili so on. Next came the ale, being pushed in front of you all.

Bilbo asked for a tea, but Bofur wouldn't have it, so there sat Dildo sipping at the pint of ale. Whilst everyone drank down theres soon enough, you just drinking it , because you was shoved against Thorin. After your fourth ale that's when you heard it.

A noise like a hurricane , the soaring winds of the mans pipes opened.

"Oh

Oh, yeah

Ziggy played guitar

Jamming good with Weird and Gilly

And the Spiders from Mirkwood

He played it left hand

But made it too far

Became the special man" Looking over to the small stage, a skinny man, with a huge blond Mohawk stood, his bare chest exposed showing a large pendant on his lower chest.

"Then we were Ziggy's band

Ziggy really sang

Screwed-up eyes and screwed-down hairdo

Like some cat from Japan

He could lick 'em by smiling

He could leave 'em to hang" Your breath hitched, as your eyes travelled down to his pants, he wore a legging type pants, showing off everything

"They came on so loaded, man

Well-hung and snow-white tan

So where were the spiders

While the fly tried to break our bones?

With just the beer light to guide us

So we bitched about his fans

And should we crush his sweet hands?" The dwarves and hobbit noticed your change, following your eyes to the man on stage.

"Do you know him?" Fili had snapped you out of your trance quickly, "o-oh, um, I haven't seen him for a long time."

"Who is he, lass?" Thorin said nothing just stared back between you and the man, as you kept glancing at him. Bofur had waited for your reply, calling over more ales. "my best friend ." That was the truth, not that anyone knew but you had wished yourself away to the goblins, thus a friendship bloomed.

Growing up you didn't have many friends, you still don't , Jareth was always there for you, you didn't want to out him being a fae.

"He was the nazz

With God-given ass

He took it all too far."

That's when he caught your eye, sending you a wink before continuing to sing with ease.

Half an hour later, you were starting to feel a little more free, after more ale, leaning onto Thorin for support.

"There's such a sad love

Deep in your eyes a kind of pale jewel

Open and closed." Jareth had started his 15 song of the evening, you had jumped up, well start up. "Thorin! Come on, let's dance." You had pushed him slightly. "Why?"

"Just come on, 'deep in your eyes a kind a pale eye,' that's you so you must dance with me, please." Thorin had finally had budged , standing up, his eyes were gems indeed. You had grabbed onto Thorins hand pulling him onto the cleared floor. You didn't know how to dance not really, but it was the heat of the moment. Well actually you had danced with Jareth during his masquerade.

"Within your eyes

There's such a fooled heart

Beatin' so fast." Placing one hand onto Thorins shoulder, the other into his hand, you could only hope you weren't making a fool of yourself. Jareth did like to be generous.

"In search of new dreams

A love that will last

Within your heart

I'll place the moon."

Looking into Thorins , bright eyes, which stared back into yours, you followed suit with steps , you hadn't realised that Jareth had changed your clothes into a white gown and sorted your hair, but the others and Thorin noticed. Following Thorins eyes down to your clothing you had get let out a snort.

"Within your heart

As the pain sweeps through

Makes no sense for you

Every thrill is gone" The dwarves hadn't seen Thorin dance since he was a prince, yet there he was with you dancing. Your eyes never leaving Thorins, as you danced in sync, turning together in a circular motion.

"I cannot wait for you to see Erebor." Thorin voice was quiet not to interrupt the music. You had grinned in confusion. "I thought you didn't want me on this quest? Why would you want me to see Erebor?"

"Wasn't too much fun at all

But I'll be there for you-ou-ou."

"So that you can attend a proper ball." You had smirked at the King, who just smiled at you.

"Well, you have got plenty of time to tell me all about Erebor, on this journey, that is if you speak to me after this."

"As the world falls down

Falling."

"As you wish." Thus you both just went back to just dancing smiling a little more now.

"As the world falls down

Falling

Falling in love." Though there was a room full of people surrounding you, it felt as if you were in your own world.  Your own crystal...

"I'll paint you mornings of gold

I'll spin you Valentine evenings though we're strangers 'til now

We're choosing the path

Between the stars." You could only hope that everyone would make it to Erebor...

"I'll leave my love

Between the stars

As the pain sweeps through

Makes no sense for you

Every thrill is gone

Wasn't too much fun at all

But I'll be there for you-ou-ou

As the world falls down" As the song finished, you had pressed a kiss to Thorins cheek, Jareth was having a break, you had let go of Thorin, telling him you'd be right back.

Still in your puffy gown, you had made your way over to Jareth standing at the bar with a glass of what could only be described as some sort of rose fancy drink, fit for a fae king. Jareth had placed the glass onto the side, holding his arms out for you.

Jumping into his arms, spinning you around, legs up , before placing you back onto the floor. "Jareth, I missed you." Jareth grinned back you showing his teeth , "as have I missed you, so you and the dwarven king?" Jareth had looked passed to you to Thorin, you looking back too to see Thorin glaring.

"Uh, I dont know, did you know we was going to be here?" Jareth had grinned larger, confirming his answer. "Come meet my friends quickly." You had grabbed Jareth by his hand leading him to your table.

The dwarves and the hobbit had looked up from their conversations, mostly with smiles. "Uh, guys , this is my best friend , Jareth, Jareth this is Bofur, Fili,Kili,Thorin and Bilbo." You had gave Jareth a side hug, he had clicked his fingers and you were in your regular clothes. " 'ello," Thorin had looked Jareth over as you squashed next to Thorin ,with Jareth next to you.

"So, what are you?" Kili bluntly asked,staring at Jareth in interest. "He's the g-ubli- king." Jareth had silenced you for a second blurring the word Goblin. "I'm sorry , what?" Bilbo Baggins was always intrigued by others, especially if you looked like Jareth. "He is a king."

"Of what."

"Now that , Bofur, is for you to figure out." Jareth was indeed a confusing, mysterious man, he seemed to have sobered the dwarves up.

"How did you do that with the dress?"

"You are a very curious lot , aren't you? - "

Jareth could be nasty, you were surprised with his behaviour.

"Well, then how did you meet him , y/n/n?"

" she wished to be taken."

"...Y-you are th-" Bilbo knew he had heard of the man he had heard sing, his books had had came in use. But again Jareth had cut Bilbo off, he knew what Dwarves were like.

"Clever hobbit."

Now, my love, if you need me you know what to do." Jareth had turned to you , pulling you into a hug, looking at Thorin, with a devilish grin. Only if you had know what he had put into Thorins head.

Really he just said, "I will turn you into pie for my Goblins, if you hurt my y/n." That was it, he was gone, you had been hugging air for a good second, before turning back to the group of men , who just stared at you.

"Uh? What?"   Bofur, Kili and Fili exchanged looks of agreement.

"You and that strange man, yep, that definitely happened."    The smirk inlaced into Kili's voice, as he stared at ,waiting for a response. You had only scoffed at " I'll call him back, and you ask him, I'm sure you'd him to make you into a pie for his Goblins." In that moment, Thorin had realised that Jareth, wasn't just a thin stick, he clearly had fed someone to his Goblins before, Thorin didn't want to find out if that was true.

Thus, the subject was dropped, and that was it,though the other dwarves wanted to know what just happened, and Gandalf didn't give a shit or already knew.

Well that was it until you had all left Rivendell , clean for now, only to get captured by Goblins.

No way were they anything like the unwanted children, absolutely. Stuck next to Thorin, you stuck out being human, wishing you had stumbled onto the actual Goblin king. Thorin had pulled you down and shielded you from the whips.

You could only wish... but you didn't Gandalf saved you all again.

Back on the road again, until Thorin gets chewed up by a warg, you rushing towards him, as the dwarves fought off the wargs and orcs. Only for the eagles to arrive , seeing an eagle fly at you and Thorin, you had laid careful onto him. The eagle swooping you both up . "Hey Thorin, are you alive? maybe I can use those thighs a scarf sometime?"

Thorin did not wake up, until Gandalf had done some magic shit, him and Bilbo became best friends. 

Then you were all captured...again, by the worst kind of elves. Dumb blonds, no, Thranduil was just a dick. All of you were stripped down to one layer , all but Thorin  and you , were shoved into cells. You was asked the general question, why are you travelling with dwarves, well actually that was it.

You had pretended to faint.  When Thranduil stood over your head to see your face, you had pretended to wake up, punching him right in the dick. "O-oh my I-"

"Take them away!" Thorin was surprised you were not executed on the spot, oh how he tried to hide his laughter, as the elven knelt in agony ,and you were both dragged away. Shoved into a cage today, before the elves stomped away. Of course , Balin asks Thorin what happened, instead of telling him what you had done, he had simply said about him shouting in Khuzdul.

" Hey, are you coming to my execution tomorrow? I wonder if my last words should be 'being an elf there's only one down fall, once you get to Thranduils age, your cock shrivels up ," Thorin had snorted , and that is when he saw it, your hair...looked like radagasts hair ,but without poop and birds.

Thorins eyes had stared too long, it was clear to you, you were just talking to him, of course you'd see him staring. Your hair. Well yes that was embarrassing, a king was literally making fun of your hair by his silent judging.

"You're judging my hair? Did you not see radagasts?" Thorin had snapped out of this stare, realising what he had been doing, a light blush upon his face. "You are right, " that's he had said, and went back to looking at your hair.

Sighing you had sat on the cold stone, let again breaking Thorins stare. "Are you going to do my hair or just stand there?"

"Are you sure?" Accepting his offer Thorin was quickly sat behind you, combing your hair, of course you didn't know about dwarvish customs. You didn't know you had just accepted his courtship,but you had.

It wasn't long before your hair was braided completely , and just as you had stood up Ori had spoken up. Though you didn't here what he had said but you had heard Bilbo. "Not in here your not." A jingle of the keys and you were free, well lead to the cellars while the others questioned Bilbo.

Soon enough well when Thorin had convinced the dwarves to get in the barrels, via Bilbos request, leaving just you and Bilbo out. Until  Thorin had gestured you over, helping you inside the Barrel, but you stuck out more than the others,you wondered why Bilbo didn't get in one with one of the other dwarves. You barely in the barrel when Bilbo had pulled the lever,gripping onto Thorins shoulders as you were both submerged for a spilt second. Thus, you were off , trying to escape the elves , squished against the dwarven king, that you had unknowingly courted.

Kili was shot, and Bombur did some extreme parkour, and boom you had reached land. Soaking, freezing, lucky your hair was all braided back,  thanks Thorin. Stopping to allow Kili's leg to be wrapped up , to prevent further blood loss.

Dwalin had almost give you a heart attack ,as you stood twisting the water out of your clothing.  "Who did you hair ,lass?" He had basically popped up beside you , inspecting your braids , his voice louder and powerful.

Looking at the dwarf, who looked right back waiting for your answer , already knowing the answer.  "Thorin did, why?" Dwalin only hummed before returning to his brother, him surprisingly whispering to his brother, Fili and Kili had looked at each other in disgust.   Even though Kili was supposedly in pain.

"Do that again and you're dead."  Snapping your head up, to the unfamiliar voice..was that orlando bloom? A human, a man with shaggy dark hair, worn out clothes , beautifully structured face. Boom, you had been able to board passage on his barge.

"Why is a woman travelling with 13 dwarves and a hobbit?"  You had coughed, turning around to face Bard, you weren't very sure what you was supposed to say. "Well, um-" " She's travelling with us because she's betrothed to uncle."    Fili had spoken up, saving you from revealing everything, still you had turned to Fili, eyebrows scrunched in confusion, Fili and Kili smirked.

"You are courting a dwarf?" Thorin had scoffed, as Bard kept his eyes on the lake, his tone was almost unimpressed. "Well, I almost fucked a fae s-" "y-y/n! That's not a-appropriate." Bilbo had choked out, without a thought.

"Come on, Gaggins, did you not see the pants he wore? His magic-"

"Enough." Thorin had interrupted you sharply, snapping your head towards the clearly annoyed King, walking over to him, punching his cheek. "Awwe, jealous of Jareth? You have a lot to live up to. Does your dick grow even after erecttion? I call it his magic c-"

" Hold on." Bilbo had pointed his pipe at you, staring at you, " How do you know that?" Bilbo had coughed again , with his cheeks red trying not to cry. "Don't tell him, maybe I held eye contact with not his eyes many times without him noticing , plus I asked him if he could grow tall as a house, and he said yeah, so I just assumed. I swear 100% I never walked in -"

"Hello, love."  You had jumped out of your skin, turning around, there stood Jareth, your face flushed red, shoving him gently. "Oh- , not nice Jareth, could've died from shock."  Jareth only ignored you, looking at your hair, his hand skimming over it , in interest.

"I heard you speaking of my cock, y/n/n, I'm flattered, but with those braids , I'm afraid you are no position to be making advances on me."  Lips slightly touching your eyes, as the vibrations of his whisper sent chills down your neck. “Well, what position do you want me in?” Pressing your back right against Jareths, his hot breath heightened onto your jeck. Thorin was fuming with anger, the dwarves didn’t know what to make of the situation.

“Y-y/n, enough do you not know what you have agreed to by those plaits?”

You had turned quickly pulling  Jareth away from the dwarves, well as far you could get anyways. "W-what are you talking about? What about the plaits?" Jareth had laughed loudly, getting the attention of the the dwarves , as you reached up to touch the braids.

"Oh, love, you don't know. Those plaits especially when done by a dwarf , signifies courtship, you have accepted." Eyes widened at the king, as he smirked at you, laughing lightly.

"What do I do? I am courting a king, I mean it’s not like I don’t like him , it’s j-“

“You are just being dramatic, you both share affections for each other, so what’s the problem? You know what to do if you need me.”poof he was gone, again.

So you had made your way over to Thorin, pulling him to his feet by his tunic, his eyes wide, as you pressed your lips to his harshly. His hands making their way into your hair, pulling you closer to him, kissing you back.

Your hands now under his jaw, the company well, they were as you could expect...cheering loudly. Pulling away from his lips, still in his hold , as you looked into his bright blue eyes.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Tell you what?”

“That consenting you to braid my hair , meant that I accepted your courtship? I would’ve anyways, but I had to find out from Jareth, I thought that was just a ruse to explain why I was travelling with a bunch of dwarves.”

“Sorry, thought you knew.”

“You hear that Lads, she thought he braided her hair out of the kindness of his heart.” Company had burst into mocking laughter, but you and Thorin had ignored it.

“Well, if we are going to get married, I need the goblin king as our wedding singer.”

“Goblin king?”

“What? You didn’t know, Jareth is the goblin king. Not that wart of a goblin, “

Thorin had only stared at you.

“No, you can’t kill him, his dick would come off and fuck you in the ass.”

“I’m sorry, who’s dick would what?” Bilbo had popped up , with disgust and confusion upon his face.

[hufflepuffhollander]

metempsychosis: t.h. series (part 2)

a/n | get ready for alll the flashbacks today, kiddos. it’s cute. it’s chaotic. it’s heart wrenching. i’m so in love with this story it’s not even funny. am i allowed to admit that out loud?

synopsis | A young couple whose lives were both lost in a tragic accident are reincarnated as new people. As they collide as strangers in their second lives, they must try to make sense of the innate connection they feel.

cw | reincarnation au. awkward meet-cute fluff, language, very vague allusion to death, flashbacks. 2.9k words. 

Read part 1, join the taglist

Metempsychosis (n.): the supposed transmigration at death of the soul of a human being into a new form of life.

Nobody likes to admit it, but there are forces flurrying around the universe that we just can’t hope to understand. The kind that control fate when humble, kind people are taken from this world too soon by the sloppiness of human nature, one thing that can’t ever truly be accounted for; that give those good souls a second chance at making the world a better place just by being in it. The universe decided it wasn’t their time yet, and in its infinite power sent them back down to earth, to start over, to live again. No, it doesn’t always seem like the universe really has a plan when it conjures its magic. But it seems all too coincidental that they would come to meet again this way, doesn’t it? Being in just the right place at just the right time, maybe—well, this will sound crazy. But maybe it was made to happen this way. 

~

Tom arrived the next day flustered after a long night of overthinking and not enough sleep. He couldn’t stop thinking about the artist he’d met, the way just her stare made him weak in the knees. He overslept, rushed into the studio in sweatpants, and to make things worse, he couldn’t recall a single dream. No teeth falling out, no high-speed car chases where you’ve lost control of the wheel...and no angel singing him to sleep. He hadn’t gotten a single new lyric down that the producers had asked him to have finished, and that fucking E string broke again. He was already having the worst day and it was barely 10am.

He flew into the meeting he was supposed to attend at the last possible second, and the door had barely shut behind him when he felt icicles pinpricking his skin. His eyes floated around the room until they landed on a familiar face. It was you again.

The meeting started and ended, neither you nor Tom absorbing a single thing that was said. You couldn’t rip your stares away from each other, speaking in confused, concerned, nonplus silent expressions and barely breaking eye contact for the whole hour. 

You seared into his pupils. Who are you?

He scrunched his eyebrows. Who am I? Who are you?

I know you from somewhere, don’t I?

You do?

I don’t know, do I?

You weren’t needed again on set for another few hours, but you weren’t sure you could wait that long to talk to him, to try to make sense of the appalling amount of deja vu you were experiencing. And what if he left, and you never saw him again? You couldn’t live with all of the unknowns, so you tugged at the strap of his guitar case as he tried to leave the conference room, forcing him to follow you somewhere quieter. Once you were finally alone, you were ready to start firing the interrogation questions until he turned to face you, stare burning a hole through the back of your head.

“Would you-- stop that!”

“Stop what?” Tom looked at you puzzled.

You swallowed hard to keep the butterflies from floating up through your windpipe and out of your mouth. “You- just...looking at me like that!”

He cocked up an eyebrow. “Me? You’re the one who won’t stop staring,” he huffed, trying to keep his vision from duplicating. Thankfully, when you blinked hard and looked away for a moment, he was able to ground himself. You had no idea that you were making each other sick out of sheer nerve.

“Look, I just- I felt, like, this really weird vibe yesterday when you helped me with my painting, and it just freaked me out, I- we must know each other, right? You know me from somewhere?”

Tom really got to listen to your voice for the first time then, and it shook him to his core. He could’ve sworn on everything holy that he didn’t know you, he’d never even seen you in passing; he would’ve remembered if he had. But your voice was slick with familiarity, like he’d heard you read him the world’s longest novel three times over. He’d never been so perplexed in his life. 

“Um, hi?” he snapped out of his thought as you waved your hand in front of his face, still waiting for a reply. “Earth to...whoever you are?”

“Uh, it’s- it’s Tom,” his cheeks flushed with embarrassment. He stuck his hand out as a formality, but you didn’t take it.

That name. You knew that name. You looked away in your own bubble of thought, smiling and silently laughing at a fond memory.

“Sorry, what’s so funny?” He was secretly glad you hadn’t taken his hand, because he was positive it would’ve been sweaty.

“No, nothing, just your name,” you said, smiling still. “My childhood cat was named Tom.”

“Oh, that’s cute- like, for a tomcat?”

You thought about what he said for a moment. “Uh...no, actually. But that is clever. No, I just, I loved the name. Always have. I don’t know why.” Tom just reflected your small smile. 

“That’s a funny name for a cat.”

1993

{ He wanted a dog his whole life, but his parents would never let him get one, so he told himself every day that he would go to the shelter and get his own the day he moved out. By the time he finally got around to adopting a pet, though, they had moved in together, and she only wanted a cat. So they’d compromised and got a kitten. He was never very good at saying no to her.

“I want to name him something funny, like Socks!” he said.

“No, no, we gotta name him after my Uncle Scott. It would be his birthday today, after all. And he always loved cats.”

“We can’t give our cat a person name, love.”

“Why not?”

“It’s weirdly formal. When was the last time you came across a cat named Kevin? Or a dog named Michael?”

She took the kitten out of his hands and tucked it into her chest defensively, eliciting a small purr from the animal. “I think those are all perfectly fine names, actually.”

“Sweetheart, if you ever get a cat all on your own, you can give it a weird, old man name. But we’re not naming our kitten Scott.”

“Agree to disagree.”

They’d landed on the name Snickers, but she always called him Scottie when nobody was around. }

Tom spoke again. “Well, what do I call you?”

“You don’t already know my name?”

“I promise you that I really, really don’t know who you are,” he pleaded.

“It’s y/n,” you respond. But he just wanted you to keep talking. Not only did your voice sound like butter to him, but you had to be the most unbelievably beautiful person he’d ever seen. “...Are you okay?”

He realized a second later that he had forgotten to reply yet again, and he racked his brain frantically trying to think of something to keep the conversation going.

“So you’re doing the paint?” 

“What?”

He internally smacked himself. “Sorry, like, you’re an artist, right?”

You gave him a weary smile, shoving your hands into your pockets. “Um, yeah, that’s what they call me.”

“Cool.”

You motioned to the guitar slung around his back. “Singer?”

“No. Well...yeah, kinda,” he gave you a nervous glance as he tried to stammer out a complete thought, his chest feeling immersed in flames. “I write the songs- I’m a lyricist. I sing them, but not really out loud. I’m the voice behind the voice, I guess.”

Your eyes flicked up to his mess of curls, finding the state of complete abandon they were in almost endearing. “Cool.”

Just then, Cameron called out, beckoning you into another meeting. You gave Tom a half smile. “I, uh, have to go.” As you turned around and hurried away, you weren’t sure if the sudden loss of nerve stimulation was something to be celebrated or missed. You hadn’t gotten any questions answered, but you just couldn’t think straight when your whole body felt as if it had been dunked in an ice bath.

Tom sat and brooded over his notepad for hours, writing a line and crossing it out, playing a riff on his guitar and cursing at the broken string. His mind was completely blank. This had never happened to him before, and it couldn’t when he was under as much pressure to perform as he was. After a frustrating and uneventful brainstorming session, he packed up his stuff and followed the long way out of the studio so he could pass by where he thought you might be, one more time, just in case you were still there.

You saw him appear as you walked across a ledge, and tripped over a wire, falling down. He rushed over to help you up, and unfortunately, you really did need the assistance. 

“Hey, hey, you okay?” He leaned down to extend an arm, and you gratefully rested your hand on his jacket sleeve to pull yourself up. His other hand reached for your free one, and no sooner had his skin touched yours did you feel a shooting pain at the point of contact.

“What the-” you pulled your arm back quickly, searching your hand for an injury, but there was nothing there. “What was that?”

Tom was staring at his own palm, flexing his fingers back and forth in confusion.

“Are you covered in static electricity or something?”

“What kind of question is that? Of course not,” you were visibly anxious now, waving his hand away as you tried standing on your own. But without your cane, that godforsaken cane, you still needed his help. You braced yourself as you took his hand, and when you went to look into his eyes again, they looked hazy- almost splotched with dots of red and blue. 

He looked at you as you rose to his eye level and felt the interminable urge to wrap you up in his arms and hold you, like you were a long lost friend he hadn’t seen in years. But all he did was graze your wrist with his fingertips as you pulled away from his grip, and was confused when he didn’t feel a small raised bump on top of your wrist bone. At that thought, Tom almost lost his own footing. Why did he expect to feel something there?

{ She was wrestled to the ground on her back, each arm pinned on the floor by one of his. Lost in a fit of giggles, she couldn’t escape his grip, and stuck her tongue out at him. “This still doesn’t mean you win.”

He rolled his eyes and let his body weight drop onto hers so he could plant a gravity-inspired kiss on her lips, staying there as she slinked her tiny arms around his torso.

“Ouch, babe, your bracelet,” he said, wincing as it dug itself into his shoulder blade.

“Oh, shit, I’m sorry.”

“Why do you always wear that thing? We’re in pajamas and nobody here is expecting you to be dressed up,” he asked, propping himself up on one arm and moving to rest beside her on the shaggy carpet. She shifted the smooth metal around her wrist nervously.

“Oh, well...it covers up this birthmark I have,” she said, clamping the jewelry tighter.

“What birthmark?”

“See? The bracelet is doing its job,” she chuckled.

“Darling, let me see it.” He slid her hand away and unclasped the bangle to reveal a small, dark raised bump right where her wrist met her hand. She looked away in disgust.

“I hate that thing. I always have. It reminds me of a bug.”

He looked at her with his eyes full of concern at her discomfort, and raised her arm to his mouth, lightly kissing her wrist. She stared at him in awe.

“Well, I think it’s beautiful.”

“What? Why?”

“Because it’s part of you, and I signed up for the whole package, remember? Bugs and all.” 

She sent him a loving look. “What cheesy rom-com did you waltz out of, huh?” }

You both stood still, unsure of how to end the encounter. But neither of you were ready to simply let go of the ever-confusing mystery that was the nature of your relationship. You didn’t think you could focus on anything other than the buzz in your brain in that moment, and Tom caught on.

“Are you feeling alright, y/n?”

You didn’t feel the need to lie. “No, not really. I feel dizzy. But I need to drive home.” 

Tom immediately felt the need to take care of you, stowing away that feeling to break down and process later. “I can take you.”

You looked up at him disconcertingly. “No, you don’t have to. I’ll get my assistant to help...” you did a full 360 looking for Cameron, but he was nowhere to be found. God damnit.

Tom leaned down to take your supply bag from your hands. “Please, it’s really not a big deal. You shouldn’t be driving if you feel like this.”

You reluctantly released your grip on your bag and followed him to his car. As he pulled out onto the road and the darkness was only being skewered by the choppy headlights, you started to feel a panic well up inside of you. Your eyes darted around the interior, looking at the radio, the dashboard, the blinking check engine light, and the heartbeat in your chest became palpable. You felt flighty, like something bad was about to happen. Of course, you’d never been in Tom’s car or seen any part of the inside, but you could feel something in its air. And it creeped you out to no end. You sat rigidly in your seat, hands clasped tightly together, and pressed them into each other hard every time someone’s high beams careened past you on the other side of the highway. Tom looked at you each time, hearing your subtle gasps. 

“Nervous passenger?”

“Sorry, I just don’t like driving at night,” you stuttered out. You’d always been inexplicably petrified of it.

It felt like an eternity had passed by the time Tom pulled into your driveway, and you thanked him, shot out of the car and rushed inside all in one breath. You leaned hard against your front door as you closed it, infinitely confused and disturbed by the unchecked waves of fear rolling over your body. 

1995

{ They sang their hearts out to the newest Mariah Carey hit that came on the radio, paying little attention to the cars around them. It was a cold evening, the car had just warmed up, and clearly, so had their vocal cords.

“I’m so excited for tonight, love,” he said, reaching to lay a hand on her thigh, which she laid her own on top of. “It will be so nice to see all of our friends again after such a nasty cold season.”

The car dinged and made them both look up, seeing an orange flash coming from the dashboard.

“Shit, the check engine light,” he muttered, hoping she hadn’t seen it. She’d been nagging him for weeks to take the car in for a steering fluid change, and he had a nasty habit of putting it off.

“I told you to get that fixed weeks ago.”

“I know, I know. I’ll get it done this weekend.”

“Do you know how dangerous it is to be driving over black ice without a properly working car, babe?” She was visibly annoyed. He gave her thigh a gentle squeeze.

“Don’t worry about it, baby, we’ll be just fine. I wouldn’t let anything happen to you.” He pushed the thought out of his mind as they arrived safely to the party, and with a sigh of relief, she forgot all about it, too. 

Of course, they hadn’t known what fate was waiting for them on the ride back home. }

No less than two minutes later, you had barely composed yourself when you heard a knock on the door. You opened it to find an embarrassed Tom at the entryway.

“It seems that I ran over a nail on my way here, my tire’s gone completely flat.” He averted his eyes from your gaze. “Mind if I stay in here til the tow truck shows up?”

You moved aside to let him pass through, really wanting nothing more than just to lie down and rest. But the rush of blood you felt to your head as he grazed by awoke your senses; his throat went dry as he stepped through the air around you. You tried to push the preeminent, sleepy visions of flashing lights out of your brain and watched him settle in on your couch in a very idiosyncratic way; curling up all the way to the right side, tucking his left leg under him, and placing a pillow on his lap.

Why did you know he would do that?

[kpopblurbs]

10:13pm

Pairing: Jae/Reader Word Count: 1.6k Tags: Bathroom sex, vaginal fingering, choking, if you have a hand kink youll prolly like this, slight d/s, dom!Jae tho uwu A/N: This is entirely dedicated to my lovely lil babie hand kink anon Smutmas Masterlist AO3 Link

You really weren’t sure why you had chosen this club to come to on your own, it looked grimy from the outside and the inside was potentially worse. But yet here you were, alone at a bar choking down a poorly mixed drink made with watered down alcohol as you tried to salvage what was supposed to be a fun night out with friends. Your friends had bailed out on your plans right before you were supposed to leave, you had already spent an hour getting ready so you decided to head to the closest bar and hope there was at least one tolerable guy there. Just your luck you seemed to have picked the bar where there was no one that seemed like a good option from afar, all the attractive men were already dancing with girls and the rest of the men didn’t seem like people you wanted to get close to.

You turned back to the bartender with a sigh, signaling that you wanted a refill on your drink before pulling out your phone to see if any of your friends had suddenly become available. “I’ll have what she’s having.” you heard a man say as he plopped down in the seat next to you. You looked up at him, ready to fend off the unwanted advances of a stranger you weren’t at all attracted to but you were pleasantly surprised by what you saw. The man was tall and thin, his hair blonde and fluffy and you weren’t mad about his company he looked at you with a smile, “Jae.” he said as he extended his hand towards you.

“You gotta earn my name.” you said with a smirk, taking his hand and shaking it.

“Oh so that’s how this is gonna go?” he said smirking back at you, “Well luckily my name is the one you’ll be screaming later so it’s more important that you have it.”

“Ooh, a bold choice of words for someone so scrawny.” you fired at him.

“Damn, that’s harsh, but you’re hot so I’ll let you get away with that one.” he said, smirk still resting on his face.

“Oh, why thank you, I don’t know what I’d do if you didn’t let me call you scrawny.” normally a guy talking to you like this would make you grimace and walk away. But maybe it was him and maybe it was the slight buzz from the bottom shelf alcohol coursing through your veins that kept you entertained.

“You wanna know something about me?” he asked.

“Not really but I suspect you’re gonna tell me anyways.” you said quickly, the smile on your face contrasting your disinterested words.

“Wow, you know me so well already.” he said before propping his elbow up on the bar and holding up his hand for you to see, “I play guitar.” he said.

You paused, “Okay?” you asked, wondering what he was getting at.

He sighed, “I’m good with my fingers.” he explained, wiggling them for emphasis.

You looked back and forth between him and his fingers, you had to admit they were long and his hands were so pretty you could imagine falling apart due to them but you stood strong. “Good for you I guess?” you teased.

He frowned, “Are you telling me you can look at my fingers and not swoon?” he asked, wiggling his fingers again.

“I’m sorry should I have gone weak at the knees? Maybe fainted right off my chair?”

He squinted at you before deciding to try another approach, “Maybe..” he started, leaning in and lowering his speaking volume so you had to pay close attention to hear him over the crowd and music, “I should put my money where my mouth is.”

You smirked, “I like that idea.” you responded.

“Are you gonna let me show you how good I am with my fingers?” he asked cocking an eyebrow at you.

“Well, it’s not like you can make my night worse.” you responded with a shrug. He smiled before hopping up from the bar, he held his hand out to you and you took it letting him tug you away from the bar. He made a beeline towards the bathroom, making sure there was no one else inside before pulling you through the door and locking it behind you.

Immediately he had you pressed up against the door, your lips captured in a heated kiss, one of his hands tangled in your hair and the other was resting on your hip. His grip was tight on your side, preventing you from rolling your hips into him like you so desperately wanted to. It was almost like he knew what you were thinking, you could feel him smirk into the kiss as he shoved his knee between your legs and released your hips letting you grind on his thigh for a second before breaking the kiss. “Wow, who would’ve guessed you’d be this needy.” he commented and you groaned at the cocky smile on his face.

"Shut up." you said, trying to hold back the whine you wanted to let out and did your best to still your hips.

"Don't stop on my account." he said and you didn't have to look up at him to know he was still smirking.

"I thought you had something to prove." you said, trying to keep yourself together to maintain some dignity.

"I do but it'd be so nice to watch you fall apart on my leg."

You groaned, "Well that's not happening so you may as well start working on proving your point." you shot back at him.

He chuckled, "Yes ma'am." he said before leaning in to press a quick kiss to your lips and move down to the side of your neck. He began to suck a mark into your skin, the hand in your hair tugging gently while his other hand played with the waistband of your pants. He teased you for a bit, waiting until you started getting frustrated before unbuttoning your pants and slipping his hand inside. He teased at your clit and you bit back a whine trying to keep yourself from grinding down into his hand. He moved to a different part of your neck and you sighed as he finally pressed his fingers directly to your clit. He rubbed you in slow circles, continuing his teasing before moving to tease your entrance with a finger. You grabbed onto his shoulder, letting out a soft whine as he pressed two fingers into you. He paused to let you adjust to the intrusion before moving his fingers. He moved them in and out a few times before curling his fingers and hitting your g-spot dead on.

You moaned and squeezed his shoulder, your legs spread apart further on instinct as he pressed his thumb to your clit. He pulled away from your neck to admire the marks, he pulled his hand from your hair and ran his fingers over them sending a shiver down your spine. His hand roamed for a bit while he fingered you before bringing it back up and settling on your throat. He didn't squeeze, still focused on pleasuring you while he waited for confirmation that you were okay with what he was intending.

You let out a whine and tilted your bead back, pushing your neck into his hand. That was all the permission he needed, quickly he was giving you what you wanted, squeezing your throat gently just barely making it tough for you to breathe. Your hips involuntarily pushed down into his hand and your mouth hung open. You were letting out soft whimpers and whines as he pleasured you. You couldn't tell exactly but you felt like he had added a third finger, his digits filling you up deliciously. He waited until your eyes crossed before releasing your neck, letting you catch your breath before squeezing again. The sensation of his fingers getting you worked up and the hand around your throat made your brain fuzzy.

You weren't sure how much noise you were making but you were sure that you were right on the edge. The fuzzy feeling in your head making you gasp out a "C-Can I?"

"Fuck, are you asking for permission to cum?" he asked.

You nodded to the best of your ability, "Please." you whined.

"Holy shit, that's so hot, yes, of course go ahead." he said, the hand around your throat squeezed tighter completely cutting off your air supply and sending you crashing over the edge. Halfway through your orgasm he released your throat, the rush of air making you tremble as you rode out the aftershocks on his fingers. His fingers kept moving as you came down from your high making you whine from the overstimulation. You pushed at his hand and he smirked but relented, pulling his hand out of your pants and holding it up in front of your face. He groaned as you took his fingers into your mouth, sucking them clean until he pulled away. "So, did I earn your name?" he asked, the smirk back on his face.

You nodded as you caught your breath, "I'll tell you my name when we get to my place." you said.

"Your place?" he asked.

"Well if your fingers are that good I wanna see what the rest of you can do." you said with a smile before pushing away from the door and walking to the mirror to make sure you looked presentable.

"Then I guess we better get to your place." he said, extending his hand to you once again. You smiled and placed your hand in his letting him drag you out of the bathroom and straight towards the door.

[sugarbutterbroadway]

Life is hard for dreamers dark chocolate pie

A/n this chapter depicts domestic violence and emotional manipulation explicitly. Please proceed with caution

“They say times are hard for dreamers, but they won’t be hard for me-”

“I’ve saved up everything I know, to take that step beyond the lawn…”Jack sang softly along with the radio. “Keep walkin till I see the station and then see it go…” It was late now. The diners' rules were they opened early and closed even earlier. Mr.Jacobi was no saint—he was honestly a thorn in Jack’s side most days—but even he knew it was dangerous to be in this part of town too late. Always said it was because he didn’t want to mop the blood off the sidewalk, but deep down Jack knew he cared.

Everyone else took that gratefully and clocked out as soon as the clock struck 8pm, but Jack didn’t. He liked to come in early and stay late, anything to keep him from spending too much time at home. He liked the quiet, liked to play his music and finally get the clarity to work.

“They say times are hard for dreamers, and who knows maybe they are”he sang as he wiped the flour off his station. “...and I might be a dreamer, but it’s gotten me this far and that is far enough for me”

Jack Kelly was a dreamer, anyone who knew him could tell you. His mother always said he spent more time with his head in the clouds than his feet on the ground. Back when he was young, and his parents would argue, his mind started to wander. Always told himself he’d grow up to be a cowboy, lasso his dad and hog tie him to a railroad track, then him and his mama would ride away into the sunset. He always told himself he was going to save her. Now she was long gone and here he was almost thirty years old working the same job day in and out. He couldn’t save her, he can’t even save himself.

Yeah he was a dreamer all right. He came to New York with a dream,a guitar and a sketchbook full of all the places he would see. He fingers flexed against the damp rag, what he would give to hold that guitar one last time…

Jack smiled as he strolled down the long hallway, suitcase in tow. He shot a cheesy grin over his shoulder, “C’mon mama! I wanna see who i’m roomin with!”

“Hold your horses cowboy”she warned, though she was smiling. “My legs don’t move as fast as they used to”

“That’s because they never did”He snorted, “It won’t be that bad, it should be around this corner”

“Jack Francis, you’re gonna put me in an early grave”she sighed.

“Mama!”he scolded, “don’t say things like that! I swear I can’t take you anywhere, you don’t behave!”

“Says you”she chuckled, “ain’t it that one right there?”

Room 228. Jack skidded to a halt in front of the door and froze.

“Well go on then”she said, “no time for bein shy now”

“Mama-”

“Go!” her hand had twisted the handle and he stumbled inside. To his dismay the room definitely wasn’t empty. Two blonde boys sat chatting on one of the beds. They must have already been friends, Jack didn’t want to intrude-

“Oh hi!”the shorter one said, his grin was a lil goofy, it made Jack want to smile too. “The names Charlie but my friends call me Crutchie, you must be Jack”

Crutchie? He stifled a gasp and nodded. “Y-yeah that’s me”

“This is my friend Race”Crutchie said, “I hope you don’t mind him being here, he’s just chillin until his roommate arrives”

“It’s no problem at all but...Race?”he asked, tilting his head.

“Yeah, you got a problem with that?”Race said, his accent was heavy, he must be local.

“Did I say I have a problem with it?”he asked, folding his arms over his chest. Race looked him over once, then twice and finally smiled.

“Kids got a backbone, I like ‘im”Race said. Crutchie rolled his eyes and turned to fully face Jack.

“Don’t mind him, he’s got an attitude problem and an ego the size of manhattan”

“Hey!”

“Did I lie?”Crutchie said, raising a brow. Race just flopped back on the bed with a wounded sigh.

“Oh!”Crutchie said after a few seconds, “The nicknames! It’s a thing our friends used to do from high school—”

“Being friends with theatre kids gets you into some weird shit”Race warned.

“Racer, you were a theatre kid”Crutchie said.

“Oh yeah!”

“Anyways”Crutchie said, “it was like a way of expressing individuality and all that fun stuff! I’m Crutchie because well, my crutch—”

“I’m Racetrack because I was the best at cross country”Race with a wink.

“And since the boys—and girls, can’t forget smalls—aren’t here to grill you, it’s your lucky day! You get to pick your own”Crutchie said. Jack’s head was spinning but he nodded.

“Well my mama calls me Cowboy”He said.

“Ooo very country”Race said, “What’s the story behind that?”

“It’s um...it’s a long story?”He said weakly. Before Crutchie could speak, Race had grabbed his arm and pulled him onto the bed.

“We’ve got time cowboy, spill”

He thought he had hit the jackpot. He was going to school on a full ride,he had amazing friends and for the most part he got to do what he loved. But he was still young, young and so naive. He was working at a Starbucks just off campus when he met her, the woman who made him so weak.

“Here’s my number, handsome. Call me, I promise you won’t regret it”She was beautiful. His hands shook and he stuttered out a promise that he would.

-----

“A music major at NYU?”She giggled, “Does that mean you plan on serenading me?”

“If that’s what you want”He smiled.

“You know what I want?”She said leaning closer.

“Y-yeah?”

“I want you to write a song for me”she said, right against his ear. “Make it good, yeah?” He grabbed her hand and pressed a kiss to it.

“Anything you want Eve”

-----

She made him feel like they were the only two on earth. She was always so sure of herself, no matter what she was doing, it was intoxicating. She wined and dined him and to a broke college student that was heaven. It was heaven.

Until it wasn’t.

“Where are you going?”She asked. Jack tilted his head and put down the bottle of cologne, it was Armani, much more than he could afford.

“I’m going out with Race and Crutchie, I told you this earlier baby”He said. She frowned and walked over musing a hand through his hair.

“I thought we were going to watch a movie today?”she asked, “and why are you wearing that cologne anyways? What’s the occasion?”

“Ain’t no occasion baby”He said, “ I just like it cause it smells good, no reason to fuss.”

“What about our movie?”She said, the grip in his hair had gotten tighter. 

“I haven’t seen them in weeks!”he insisted, then winced as her hand balled into a fist.

“Don’t raise your voice at me Kelly”She said, “You won’t like the consequences”

“E-Eve”he stammered, “Baby that hurts-”

“Good”She said, “Maybe you’ll learn not to cancel our dates to hang out with your stupid friends” before he could respond she had yanked her hand back and stomped out of the room. He took a deep breath and picked up his phone.

“Crutchie? Yeah um, something came up”

-----

“You know, you don’t need that music school anyways”She said, not tearing her eyes away from the mirror. “What are they teaching you that you don’t already know?”

“How to be a musician?”he chuckled, “There’s so much I still need to learn, I haven’t even scratched the surface yet”

“Yeah but maybe you can go in less?”She said, “do you really need to be there five days a week?”

“Baby please-”he started, but she lifted a hand. He flinched.

“Don’t baby me Kelly”she hissed, “Don’t you think I was a student once? I know you don’t need to be there so often. What are you trying to hide from me?”

“Nothing Eve-”

“Are you cheating on me?”She asked. His eyes went wide and he quickly shook his head.

“N-no baby I would never-!”

“Tell me you love me”She said.

“Eve we’ve never even said that before-”

“Say it!”She shouted. The glass tube filled with crimson lipstick hit the bathroom counter and shattered into fragments. She ignored it and glared at him.

“I love you”He said softly.

“hm”She said, and stared. It felt like she was ripping him apart. “No you don’t”

“I-I do!”he said, “I promise I do, just please Eve-”

“Say it like you mean it then”

He swallowed the lump in his throat. “I love you”

She smiled and brought a hand up to cup his cheek. “I wanna hear you say that forever”

He leaned into the touch and shivered as she ran a sharp nail across his jaw. “Then i’ll say it for forever”

“Oh what did I do to deserve you?”She whispered, “You’re too good to me Jack, you know that? Like some angel sent from heaven”

-----

“When are we going to get married?”she asked. Jack choked on his french fry, she stared.

“Married?”He asked softly, he knew better than to raise his voice. “Eve I...I’m only nineteen”

“Yeah but we’re so good together Jackie”she pouted. “Besides, I can provide for us. I've got a good paying job. You can leave that music school behind and write songs for me all day long--oh! How’s that one go? The one about sunshine”

“u-uh”He stuttered, “you want me to sing it here?”

“That’s what I said”she said, rolling her eyes.

“Till the sun don’t shine, i’ll be yours, you'll be mine”He sang quietly.

“I thought you changed those lyrics”She huffed. “I told you I didn’t like them”

“You’re right baby”he said, “my mind is just a little woozy right now, what drink did you get me?” “It doesn’t matter,”she said. “The song?”

“Till the sun don’t shine, you will still be mine…”

-----

They had been married for three months until it happened. Eve had lost her Job and she had gotten so drunk...Jack’s knees buckled underneath him and he gripped the table for support.

“Jack Kelly what did I say about raising your voice!”

She had been so mad.

“I’m not asking you to drop out, i’m telling you!”

The bottle had only just missed his head.

“If you leave, i’m going to kill myself. I’m going to kill myself because i am nothing without you! And that’s going to be on your conscious! Don’t think your mama would like that would she!”

“You don’t know shit about my mama!”he shouted back, “leave her out of this!”

Smack. 

His head had whipped to the side before the pain had registered. Once it did she was already apologizing.

“I-I’m sorry Jackie”she whispered, stroking his cheek. “I didn’t mean to, I just-...do you still love me?”

His eyes were blurred with tears. “Yes”

“Say it”

“I-I..-”

“Jackie say it, please”

“I love you”

“Sing to me. You know i love it when you sing”

They had both ended up on the floor. Eve in his lap as he rocked her gently, he had never seen her so small.

“Till the sun don’t shine…”

-----

Jack took a few seconds on the floor to compose himself. Hot tears were streaming down his face and it was like they couldn’t stop. He pulled his knees up to his chest, and rocked himself back and forth back and forth. Just like his mama used to. He stayed like this until the oven beeped and sent him hurtling back into reality. He pulled himself up and wiped his face off on his apron.

“Let’s get this out the oven”he mumbled to himself and grabbed the oven mitts. It smelled delicious but even the thought of eating made him nauseous , he was exhausted, and he still needed to get home.

He placed it on the cooling rack and scribbled a title on a sticky note.

Life is hard for dreamers dark chocolate pie

He placed a glass case over it to keep it fresh. On the way out he made sure to hang up his apron, and lock up the kitchen. He didn’t care if the diner got robbed, but no one was touching his pies. He pulled on his coat and fished in his backpack for his earbuds and metrocard. Too tired to pick a song he just left them in for warmth and locked up the diner. As he walked towards the train station his head remained in the clouds.

“They say times are hard for dreamers, but they won’t be hard for me…”

I've saved up everything I know, to take that step beyond the lawn. Keep walking till I see the station, and then see it go.

[georgeharris0n]

Blisters On His Fingers- Chapter 3- “Paul Is On The Verge of a Mental Breakdown”

Rating: PG-13

Word Count: 3.8k

Chapters: 3/25

Pairing: George Harrison/Ringo Starr, Minor Paul McCartney/John Lennon

Summery:  Paul gets a front row seat to a famous John and Rory ego match, except this time John's scheme goes into motion.

Also- Geo and Ringo get a little impulsive. ;) 

Read Chapter 2 here

The very back of the KaiserKeller was probably the most musty, weathered place of the entire establishment. This was where the bands had to store most of the equipment when sets ended and nights were played out. It was horrid, dusty, and just plane disgusting to say the least. Ringo could barely stand having to store his drums back there. It always gave him a nasty cough when he breathed.

  “Oi! Rings! Need a hand with them drums?” Johnny called out from round the corner of the hall.

  Ringo was holding in a breath and gave his friend a quick nod as he rushed from the room holding onto his snare and cymbals. Johnny kindly swept in to grab what was left, the stool and bass drum.

  “Thanks lad- um.. how long have we got till our numbers?” Ringo asked nervously looking over at the cracked floorboards while approaching the rotting stage.

  Johnny quirked his brow, and scanned the bar. “Nope, no Beatles yet… if that’s what you’re askin’.” He flashed a knowing grin and gave Ringo a nudge with his elbow.

  At that, Ringo scratched the back of his neck and checked his watch. “I’m serious arsehole I- I’ve jus’ got to set up my things n’ all…”

  Of all the things Ringo was in the world, he was always a shitty liar.

  “OHhhh sureee- right, because it’s so hard putting drums onto a stage?“ The lad scoffed. “Maybe I should ask Rory for ya? He might know when they get here.” Johnny said teasingly. Giving Ringo one last shove in the arm.

  In panic, Ringo’s eyes went big and he spun round’ to Johnny’s smug smile. “Please-”

  “You’re gonna hav’ to them him eventually Rings.” Johnny cautioned “He knows you’re into fellas anyhow, what’s the worry? Coverin’ for ya last night wasn’t easy you know.”

  He knew, of course he knew. Rory was observant. He seemed lively and easygoing, which he was- but Rory could tell when something was off, and Ringo leaving last evening was very off. The band spent practically every waking moment together, and Rory was a natural born leader. He knew when any of the boys were out of it.

  Rory was what people wished they could be. Back in Liverpool he was always the talk of the town. Popular, athletic, and with more energy than all of the boys in Liverpool combined. He was a looker as well, Rory had high cheekbones and some of the most fluffed and well groomed hair you’d ever seen. Not to mention he was a tall bastard, lean, and full of promise. Fellas wanted to be him and girls wanted to be his . 

His best quality though by far was his drive. Rory was ambitious, and when he set his sights on starting a band, he went in- full force. There was nothing he took more seriously, he designed every aspect in order to set up the band’s image and style. He liked glamour, flare, and theatrics. A theatrical showman in his own right, and he loved feeding the audience as much of it as he could throw.

  Sure the pink suits were a bit much, but it was different and Rory loves different. None of the other lads ever complained, except maybe Luo. He thought it to be a bit too flashy. Although, that's what Rory likes, flashy, fun, and professional. It’s probably why the Beatles were so different. Natural rivals. Rory was serious about a clean, fun image, while the Beatles were rough looking, not so much caring for stage presence. For them, they focused on the music.

  Regardless, Ringo admired the Beatles, not just George. John and Paul were both characters for sure, but musically they fit into each other like gloves. The Hurricane’s could hopefully live up to that kind of potential. The band was close, but even Ringo could tell it wasn’t the same as what those 3 had.

  Johnny Guitar was probably the closest friend Ringo had. They got on real well since he joined and since then has been best mates. They’d gotten to know each other so well Johnny even knew Ringo was crushing on George before he told him he was.

  He knew Johnny meant well, even if he was takin’ the piss while doing it. Ringo needed to tell Rory. The band never had secrets, mostly because they are impossible to hide.

  Ringo surrendered and slumped back in his drum stool. “Fine, fine… I’ll tell Rory.”

  “Do you really think he’ll take it that bad? He might be fine, he’s always bantering with John n’ all.”

  Rory did have a strange relationship with John. Emphasis on relationship. John certainly was with Paul, there was no question about those too. But John and Rory always seemed to have a weird flirtatious quality to their “intimidation”. Clearly nothing either of the two meant, just a playing off each other's cheeky attitude. But- it made Ringo wonder if Rory and them really weren’t meant to overlap. Was Ringo dating George against some kind of rule?

  “I don’t know Johnny, but I need to tell him before-”

  “Before he sees right through your smitten arse?” Johnny chimed.

  “Piss off! You’re no help.” Ringo chuckled and shoved Johnny’s arm away. “Go tune your guitar or somthing you wanker.”

  ____________________

  It was 30 minutes until the set started and Rory and the rest of the band were just about ready. It was only about 4, so the crowd turn out wouldn’t build up till nearly 6. 

  There was still no sign of the Beatles. Ringo figetted at his drum set. Despite not having any numbers tonight, The Beatles never missed a gig. For weeks he’d seen George in the audience having beers and watching them play till the end of the night. They’d never been late either. Always a little early, so John could get in a few beers to heckle between songs.

  Now it was almost time for the first song, and Ringo hasn’t seen any of them out here. What if the date hadn’t gone as well as he thought? Maybe the gay bar was too overwhelming? Or maybe it was too little ? Not enough excitement. Had he fucked up? Said something? Was… was it the kiss ? He knew George had kissed him this time, but was it not what he expected? It was certainly… intense. Really hot too, he could remember how warm and wet his bottom lip had felt between George’s. Maybe he was a bad kisser and George was so disappointed he doesn’ want any reason to even look at him. Rory Storm and the Hurricane’s drummer “the worst kisser ev-”

  “Well! If it isn’t Rory and his shit storm!” 

  Ringo’s head had sprung up. He knew that crude greeting anywhere.

  John was perched at the front door with a toothy smile, clearly ready to spare with Rory before the show. Paul was never far behind, he was shaking his head as his boyfriend made an ass of himself as per usual. Ringo tilted his head, trying to get a glimpse behind Paul, but there was no George in sight.

   It looked like it was just the two of them, but- it was never just the two of them? Ringo glanced up at Johnny and felt his chest get tight. He’s not here.

  Ringo dipped his head down and excused himself, he turned the corner and started walking off the stage. He didn’t come…

  The date had gone so well. He felt super dizzy trying to wrap his head around all the confusion that washed over him. He knew he never felt that way about anyone so quickly and now he needed to go take breather and try not to completely embarrass-

  In a b-line for the basement, the step of the stairs caught Ringo’s foot and he fell forward into the dark stairway.

  Before Ringo could even brace himself for a nasty tumble down the stairs, he felt himself wrapped in two long arms. Two leathery arms.

  “Wha- Ritchie?”

  Ringo’s heart accelerated. George- that’s George’s arms.

  “George? You’re here!” Ringo sputtered against George’s chest, then regaining his balance at the top step and making room for him to climb up. “Course I am Ringo, I wouldn't miss your shows for the world. I just came down here for the toilets.” He shrugged, smiling at Ringo’s wide eyes.

  “I um- I wasn’t sure you were coming.” Ringo chuckled as he stuck his hands in his pockets. He tried to play it casual, and totally act like he wasn’t about to hyperventilate in the bathroom over one date. Even in this shitty backhall lighting George still had the most attractive features when he smiled at Ringo. And that just made him even more flustered.

  “You didn’t think after such a charmin’ date i’d leave you out to dry did ya?”

  Glancing up at George, Ringo was so fucking smitten he could hardly believe he thought George would do that. He liked the date just as much. Which also meant he wasn’t a bad kisser afterall. Thank fuckin goodness. The kiss they’d had had felt far too good to be a deal breaker. The way they sunk against each other so easily had to be right, everything. Everything about it from their hands, to their lips, was just so damn perfect...

  Ringo glanced past George at the storeroom door behind him… that dusty, awful, private storeroom. (with a lock of all things.)

      _________________

  George felt his cheeks get red at the hot-blooded look in Ringo’s eyes, he loved how one minute he could look as soft and sweet and maybe even a bit flustered one second… then, well… sexy the next. George felt his own body lean back against the wall, hoping Ringo would follow closer.

  Wait- is this a good idea though? I mean- here? In THE HALL?

  “Ritchie, someone could come this way any second.” George reasoned, pretending like he totally didn’t just grab onto Ringo's shirt collar.

  Ringo had both arms on either side of George’s face, while George leaned down a tad with buckled knees so they could be level with each other. (or George is literally weak in the knees for Ringo, but go off-)

   Ringo’s eyes broke from George’s a split second as he eyed the storeroom one last time. 

  Fuck it.

   Before making another move for the handle beside them Ringo’s breath ghosted over George’s cheek. “I think I know a good place.”

___________________________

“John you rat bastard! Keep it down!” Paul shouted probably even louder than John had even yelled.

  “Com’on Macca, I promise I won't embarrass you this time.” John said sliding his arm around Paul’s shoulders and threatening him with a nip behind the ear. “Fuck- quit that, you’re already embarrssing me you shit.”

  John pulled Paul to the side of the bar and ordered a beer while he waited for Rory to make his grand entrance. “Oi, where’d Geo head off to? Didn’t he run ahead of us?”

  Paul sighed and crossed his arms. “Think he said he had to take a piss, I told him to go before we left, but the dumbass was too eager to get going I guess.” 

  “Hmph, I bet he was…” John wiggled his brows, noticing the vacant drum set he could have sworn was occupied not too long ago. Paul gave John a swift kick in the leg under the bar counter earning himself a wince from his boyfriend. “Don’t you even fucking try it.”

  “Ow! What was that for?”

  Paul grabbed John by his jacket. “You’re scheming! You can throw yourself at Rory all you want, but don’t heckle any shit at Ringo about their date. Stay. Out. of. It.” Paul was nose to nose with John, and despite the angry look in his eyes and the hiss in his tone, John was turned on as hell by it.

  “Macca! I wasn’t even thinking of- wait, what do you mean? I don’t “throw myself at Rory”, sounds to me like you’re a little jealous Paulie.” John leaned forward and smirked as he bit the side of his lip seductively… which only earned him another kick in the leg.

  “Fuck you John.” Paul huffed, taking a big swig of John’s beer. “Just leave them alone okay?”

  John rubbed at his bruised calf and stood up from the stool. “ Well, It doesn’t look like I’m going to get to jeer anyone this evening.” He puffed his chest and turned to the rest of the bar patroons. “I guess “Liverpool’s Golden Boy” hasn’t got the guts to share a drink with me!” John shouted with his hands cuffed over his mouth.

  Paul heard the side door of the bar open and there stood the golden boy himself. Dawning his signature bright blue suit he had to contrast his bandmate’s pink ones. The young man stood well dressed and well groomed with his blonde quiff perfectly curled above his forehead. Paul couldn't stand it.

  “Quiet down Lennon! I’m going to lose my hearing with all yer yelling.” The cheery stutter of Rory Storm beamed from the back of the bar. “I was out back having a ciggy, fancy seeing you here.” Rory teased while he approached the bar for a beer of his own. “If I didn't know better Lennon, I’d say you were falling' for my charms, seen you in here a lot lately.”

  Paul shifted uncomfortably in his seat. Somehow when these two did their little “dance” he always managed to get forgotten, as if Paul wasn't even there. John’s boyfriend .

  John told him plenty of times this was just teasing, he insists that Rory’s got to be as straight as a board. Not with that fucking hair he’s not. But- even though Paul mostly ignores it and nothing ever really gets physical, he still can’t really watch for too long… He gets jealous far too easily.

  “Nah, despite those charms, you know I love to watch a good laugh when I can.” John winked, stealing his beer back from Paul and downing the rest.

  “You know you could learn a thing or too Lennon, instead of being a showboat, you could actually try and entertain for a change.” Rory said tugging at the sleeve of John's rugged leather jacket.

  See? What’s that about? How straight is that? Paul was nearly ready to tune out. He averted his eyes to look past Rory hoping he could catch George coming from the bathroom so his boiling blood could cool down. 

  John followed the remark with a light flick of Rory’s tuft up hair. “Sure, maybe in Liverpool you have it all, but here mate, all your flips and tricks are just a side act.”

  They both grinned widely at each other, almost like every quip they made only fueled the other. The showoff and the showman. Bastards.

  Rory gave a chuckle, “And where’s the rest of your act then? Word on the street is you’re short a drummer.”

  John shrugged, “Ol’ Pete? He hightailed it back to Liverpool, we’ve got a replacement coming in soon though. Suppose I can’t say the same for your drummer.” John chided giving Rory a cheeky grin. Rory followed John’s eyes to the empty drum kit.

  Paul was fuming in his seat. He couldn’t stop listening to John’s weaving web. John may not be doing his usual flirting, but this was almost worse. He could see right through his playful jabs, but poor Rory looked more confused than ever.

  He better not fucking say it.

  John stood up and leaned in close to Rory, close enough to whisper his next jest in his ear “It really would be a shame if you lost that drummer of yours huh? He's real geer, any band could use one like im’. 

  Rory furrowed his brows. “Sorry Lennon, he’s not for sale if that’s what you’re asking. Ringo’s ours.” John’s eyes looked knowingly into Rory’s, like he was holding in a secret he couldn’t bear to hold any longer, but oh he loved to watch Rory squirm for it.

  Paul felt his fists clench.

  Don’t even try John-

  “He might be- for now, but if you haven’t noticed...”

  Paul knelt up and yanked John back in his seat and out of Rory’s face. “Shut it John!”

  “Pipe down Macca, I’ve got something to tell Rory here!” John stood back up with Paul’s hand firmly locked on his arm… 

  Paul knows he can’t stop him. John was already too excited, too eager to tell his little secret, a secret he has no right to tell, but it’s one Paul can’t control.

  “You just better keep an eye on that drummer” John insinuated with a quiet  breath “because I know Georgie sure is.”

  Paul swore that Rory’s eyes shot open widely as if what John’s had said still wasn’t making any bit of sense.

  Fuck.

  Suddenly, John’s voice returned to his loud ever casual self, as if he hadn’t just scared the living daylights out of Rory who stood completely dumbfounded “Oh yeah, those too are practically an item now, and it looks to me that George really fancies him. Especially all that drumming he does, sometimes it’s all he ever talks-” 

  “WOW! Rory would you look at that! I think that’s Ringo on stage now! Gee, suppose’ we better have a seat so you can get to playing.” Paul cut in as soon as he saw an opportunity, quickly dragging John’s smug face to the back of the bar. With Rory’s furrowed brows and squinted eyes following them.

  “You never listen huh? You’ve always got to meddle.” Paul murmured angrily into John’s ear as he seated himself down in their usual table.

  “Quit pushing me! Geez Paul, I’m just having a bit of fun, it’s all just banter to Rory anyhow.”

  Paul knew that wasn’t true. With John it was never that simple. There was always an angle no matter what he said. The last thing he needed was John messing things up for George. The lad was really into Ringo. Paul could read it all over his face. It reminded him of how over the moon he was when he met John. The giddy twinkle in his eyes, the way he smiled after his date last night and refused to give them even a single detail. All Paul had to do was look at that grin George had after he rested his head down to sleep, he could practically feel his own cheeks ache at the look of it. Paul felt the same way for John, the very day he asked him to write songs together for the first time... How he’d do anything for him in that moment, like join his band, or quit school, or go over to another country and sleep in a shitty cinema room…

  No. He knew George. If he found out what John was doing it would only make him anxious. That- or super pissed off. Either way, he had to keep it quiet. This was all too impotent.

  “You better not tell George what you said damn it- he shouldn’t have to deal with your shit, he’s 18.” Paul sneered under his breath, loud enough for John to hear.

  “Exactly- He’s not a damn child Macca.”

  Paul looked up, his eyes piercing into John’s very soul . “You’re right, he’s not, and neither are you” He deadpanned. “so you're going to listen this one damn time, and not tell him .”

  “Tell who what?”

  Paul felt his entire body turn to ice. George was looking at them both, raising his brow curiously. Paul was practically on John's side, looking more stressed than that one time he had dropped his only comb in the cinema’s toilet, and John was red in the face, holding back some kind of cough or noise in the back of his throat. 

  “Damn, you guys are weird when I’m not around…”

  Somehow, George’s dismissiveness was a relief. Thank God. Paul gave one last glare at John before scooting over so George could sit. Taking a look at George, Paul’s eyes nearly fall out of his head. “What the fuck got into you?” Paul blurted out, seeing the guitarist’s hair pointed in every which way and leather jacket practically hanging off his shoulders.

  Wait- did he?

  George’s eyes stared back at Paul with what he could only describe as “oh fuck”.

  “Fucking hell Paulie! You’re acting like you’ve never snogged in a bathroom before!” John bellowed as he gave George a slap on the back that was way too hard. 

  “It wasn’t in a bathr-” George shut his jaw quickly and pretended to clear his throat.

Paul shook his head in disbelief. “Wait, you really?” Paul couldn't believe what he was hearing, he knew this would happen, if anything, he wanted George to get to enjoy stuff like that but- 

 “In the back of a BAR? After one date!” Paul suddenly released in disbelief. Not meaning to say it out loud.

  “YES PAUL! Okay! Now can we shut up and watch the show?” George put his head on the table not looking mentally prepared to deal with talking about his make out habits at the table. Too bad though, Paul had more questions.

  “But- your first make out though? The back of-”

  George’s head sprang up in defense. “Who said it was my first!” George then had the look of instant regret, this is what Paul wanTED.

  “For God’s sake Macca, he’s 18 remember?” John cut in with a smug grin on his face as he threw Paul’s own words back at him.

  Paul’s mouth opened one last time, but then decided against it, he dropped the conversation and George finally relaxed into his seat. “I’ll- um, I’ll tell you about it later okay?” George simpered quietly to Paul.

  With that Paul could relax too. He wanted for George to feel comfortable asking for help and talking about his relationship. It’s all going to be so new for him. He shouldn’t be alone if he gets nervous or scared. Paul looked to John who was nursing a new beer, while George looked longingly up at the stage as he always did. A small smile crept up Paul’s lips. Well at least he’s happy.

  Leaning back against John’s chest he felt his arm pull him close out of habit, though he was still mad, he was at the very least- grateful. John didn’t tell George what he had done, like Paul had  asked. Yet, there was still an uneasiness, like something was going in motion, something Paul can’t stop. He knew the plan John had going on in his head, whatever it was, was going to bite them both in the ass sooner or later.

Hopefully later.

[seanfalco]

More Mistakes Were Made (Part II)

Fandom: The Witcher Pairing: Valdo Marx x OC [ Aevryn Swift ] Word Count: 2668 Rating: E a/n: Another installment of the Punk!AU ft. my oc & Valdo.  I am aware how incredibly self-indulgent and tbqh niche this fic is, so I’m not really expecting much, but I’m fully sailing this disaster ship now and there’s no stopping it. Takes place before Road Trip series. Taglist: @ficsandcatsandficsandcats

[ Part I ]

——

“You’ve gotta be kidding me,” Jaskier muttered under his breath.  

Aevryn frowned at her friend’s tone and craned her head as she set the amp she was lugging down heavily, curious to see just what had pissed him off.

“Oh.”

Jaskier swore under his breath, realizing his mistake in calling attention to what he’d seen, as Aevryn’s face fell, the change in her demeanor instant as Valdo Marx sauntered by, no doubt deliberately, seeing as the stage he was set to play at was on the complete other end of the packed field; a girl that looked suspiciously similar to Aevryn on his arm.  He leaned down to whisper something in her ear and she laughed before glancing over.

“Nope, that’s it, I’m gunna kill him,” Jaskier muttered, setting his guitar down before Aevryn grabbed his arm as he charged forward, holding him back.

“Just leave it Jask.  Please?”

The way her voice cracked only made his anger flare hotter and he scowled.  “I’m not just gunna let him get away with this bullshit.  He’s deliberately trying to get under your skin and that’s not okay.”

He knew something like this was bound to happen sooner or later after the way Valdo had been acting the last time they met -- the prick seemed particularly obsessed with Aevryn as of late and Jaskier was determined to keep him away from her.

“Jaskier, please.  It’s okay,” she repeated.  “We have to finish setting up.”

Jaskier threw one last glare at Valdo, growling under his breath before shaking Aev’s hand off his shoulder and turning away to do as she asked.  Heaving a sigh of relief that she wouldn’t have to break up a fist fight, Aevryn glanced over at Valdo, who was nearly past now and her breath caught as his emerald eyes found hers.  His pretentious smirk fell away and for a moment Aev saw the vulnerable look he’d given her a couple weeks ago as she’d laid in his arms and he told her how he missed her.

The moment passed and his smirk returned as he threw his arm around the girl’s shoulders and they were swallowed by the crowd, leaving Aevryn staring after, her stomach twisted in knots.

——

She’d made it through all of Vicious Mockery’s set and tear down, telling herself to let it be, but once everyone was just sitting around and she had nothing left to occupy her mind or her hands, Aevryn found herself weaving through the crowd in search of Valdo’s tent.  

A queue of teenagers and twenty-somethings waiting for autographs and photos wrapped around the brightly coloured tent, and standing there Aevryn suddenly felt incredibly foolish.  She knew she was playing right into his hand and she really had no plan for what she was going to say to him, but anger and hurt coursed through her afresh as she thought of his arm around that two-bit Aevryn knock-off he’d found just to, what, make her jealous?  

Well it was working.

Valdo was in the midst of taking a photo with a couple of fans when he noticed her, shooting her a cheeky wink as he smiled for the camera; white teeth flashing.  

He has no right to have such a beautiful smile, Aevryn grumped as she waited, crossing her arms over her chest.  She could remember all too well how many times that fucking smile had gotten him out of hot water, and even more infuriatingly how many times it had made her traitorous heart skip a beat.

Once he was finished Valdo leaned in close to his manager and whispered something, his gaze flicking to her momentarily.  The next thing Aevryn knew Valdo already had his arm around her shoulder, leading her away from the prying eyes as his manager was announcing to the waiting queue, amongst groans and protests that Valdo was taking a short break and would be back in an hour.

“Aevryn, to what do I owe this pleasure?” Valdo asked as he led her under the canopy of trees near the blessedly desolate outskirts of the festival perimeter.

“You know very well why I’m here,” she snapped back, spinning to face him.

He merely cocked an amused eyebrow at her and leaned nonchalantly against the trunk of a nearby tree.  “Can’t say as I do,” he quipped, shrugging; his green eyes twinkling with mischief.

“Valdo.”  The warning in her tone was clear, but the smug look on his face only deepened.

“Oh, that?”  He asked, as if just remembering his very deliberate pass by earlier.  “I was just taking a stroll around the festival with a fan.  I don’t even remember her name.”

Aevryn couldn’t stop the violent urge to roll her eyes, which was all too familiar to her in Valdo’s company.  “Oh, I believe that part of it, but I’m sure her appearance was intentional.”

“What do you mean?” Valdo asked, his faux innocence infuriating.

“I mean the fact that she was basically a dollar store knock off version of me.  What the fuck are you doing, trying to make me jealous, Valdo?”

He merely shrugged again, his gaze studying her.  “Is it working?”

Yes.

Aevryn managed to bite that knee-jerk response back, instead considering him while she fought to control her breathing.  

“You know, if memory serves me, we slept together not long ago,” Valdo said as he pushed off the tree to circle her.  “And yet I’ve seen you looking pretty intimate with that groupie on Vicious Mockery’s instagram page.  What am I supposed to take from that?” he asked, the amusement disappearing from his eyes though his lips still turned up in a cruel grin.

Aevryn swallowed, her mouth suddenly dry.  “Just because we slept together doesn’t mean anything,” she shot back, hating the words as they left her lips, flinching at the way Valdo nodded, as if accepting them.

“Is that why you left without a word while I was still sleeping?” he asked, the tiny tremor in his voice nearly undetectable.  Except Aevryn was waiting for it.

“I left a note,” she replied, rounding on him, trying to explain.  “I panicked, okay?  But like you also follow me on social media, I know you do, so you could have gotten ahold of me any time since then, but you didn’t!” she cried, advancing, her finger jabbing him in the chest.  “You made it seem like you wanted to change, but you’re still acting like the same selfish arsehole you were when you lost me the first time.”

Valdo opened his mouth, no doubt to defend himself, but Aevryn didn’t give him the chance.

“I’m so tired of these fucking head games Valdo,” she growled, backing him up against the tree he’d been leaning against earlier and his dark rimmed eyes widened.  “I-I refuse to be treated like that again.  I have more self respect than that.  So if you just expect to fuck me and tell me you miss me and I’ll just come running back to you, don’t fucking count on it.”

“Aev…” he began, trying to get a word in, giving up when it was evident she wouldn’t let him.  When she finally paused to breathe Valdo heaved a sigh, “finally,”  before leaning in to capture her unready lips in a kiss, taking her completely by surprise.

After that split second of hesitation her body reacted of its own accord, pulling him closer, her hands balling in his loose shirt as if he might disappear into thin air if she let go; her mouth moving against his almost frantically.  Every time she kissed him it brought it all back and she was nearly swept away by ache of it -- he, her favourite drug and she, a relapsing addict.

“That’s not fair,” she whispered as they broke for air, still clutching him close to her, her nose brushing his as she gasped for breath, eyelashes fluttering against cheeks.

“What’s not fair?” Valdo whispered back, tilting his face to try to steal another quick kiss.

“Kissing me like that, when I wasn’t expecting it,” she pouted, fighting the urge to push him up against the tree and ravage him.  She had some shred of self control, after all.

“All’s fair in love and war babe,” he purred in her ear, his dark curls brushing her face and he spun her; her back landing against the hard bark of the wide tree trunk, his hands cradling her face as he tilted her chin up to plant another breathtaking kiss to her tender lips.

“What are we even doing Valdo?” Aevryn managed to breathe in between the meeting of their lips.

“Obviously we’re making out in the woods.”  His snarky response made her snort and she pushed him back.  

“You know what I mean,” she insisted; the flash of his grin making her knees weak before his mouth was at her neck and a tiny broken moan escaped her lips.  Her breath hitched as his mouth traveled lower, his hand following suit until Aevryn was arching into his palm, her body playing traitor and falling back into the familiar dance, yearning to be touched, to be played like an instrument under his deft musican’s fingers.

“Valdo,” she moaned, biting her lip as her hand slipped behind his head, fingers tangling in the thick curls at the base of his neck while her other hand lingered at his waist, slipping under the hem of his shirt, her fingers brushing skin.

Valdo’s muscles twitched at the featherlight touch, and as her hand splayed further against the warmth of him under his shirt he moaned in turn, teeth sinking into the sensitive flesh of her neck, exposed so trustingly to him.

Aevryn’s sharp cry was soothed with a swipe of his expert tongue and their mouths found each other’s again, the kiss deepening with a crescendo of low moans and sighs.

“Do you want this?” Valdo asked suddenly, just barely pulling away, emerald eyes flicking to hers, dark with want and the promises of all he could do to her — of all he wanted to do to her.

This man could be her undoing if she let him.

Breathing heavily her gaze met his and she knew she was done for.

“Yes,” she breathed, her heart trilling at the grin that split his lips and his hand moved lower, brushing the skin at her waistline, leaving a trail of goosebumps in its wake before deftly tugging at the button there and slipping beneath the elastic of her panties.

A shuddering breath left her lips as Aevryn clutched at him, her knees nearly buckling as his fingers spread her folds teasingly, dipping into her as if testing the waters, his other hand lingering at her throat, thumb tracing the arch of her neck as she pressed her lips to his, arching against him.

“Do you remember our safe word?” Valdo whispered against her lips and Aevryn wordlessly nodded, wanting more, desire filling her with each movement his beautiful slim fingers made inside her; stretching and filling her, driving all sense from her.

“You have to say it,” he insisted, so I know you remember.”

A frustrated sigh left her lips as he stopped, the word springing to her tongue as if they’d only used it yesterday.

“Limerick,” she said, eyes flashing to his to drive it home that she did remember.

“Good girl.”  Valdo’s drawl sent a shiver racing through her and Aevryn moaned loudly as his fingers resumed their task.  Moments later her moan was silenced as Valdo’s hand tightened at her throat, fingers squeezing gently, just enough to leave her gasping as a third finger filled her, curling to strum her g-spot like the delicate instrument she was.

Fingers tightened in Valdo’s hair, tugging as she writhed beneath his touch, her other hand clutching hard at his shirt to anchor herself as he increased the pressure around her neck.

“Fuck, Aev,” Valdo purred in her ear.  “You’re so goddamn hot like this.  Such a naughty girl.  Do you let just anyone do this to you—finger fuck you in public where anyone might pass by?”  The inflection in his voice changed slightly and he wet his lips, loosening his grip on her neck so she could speak, his fingers not ceasing their rapid building of her climax, nearing by the feel of her shuddering muscles.

“No,” she gasped, searching his eyes, his long flashes brushing his cheeks.  Insecurity painted his features and Aevryn could practically feel the desperation in his gaze, his need to know that he was still special to her.  “Only you,” she managed before a halting moan bubbled from her gut, her body tensing as her orgasm took her.

Squeezing again, he rested his forehead to hers, curls falling to frame her face as she clenched around his digits slick with her essence, her arms pulling him to her desperately.

When she was finally spent, knees weak and body satiated Valdo pulled his hand free and gave a start as Aevryn guided it to her lips, sucking his fingers clean as he gaped at her in shock.

Eyes flicking up to his as though she knew exactly what she was doing Valdo groaned, and once she’d licked his fingers clean the smirk she wore only confirmed it.

Buttoning up her jeans her hand slid against the front of his, hand seeking the growing bulge trapped within, but Valdo quickly caught her, pulling her hand away and placing a kiss to her palm.

“No, love,” he murmured at her puzzled expression.  “This was about you.  I wanted to make you feel good.”

“Valdo…” Aev whispered, confliction warring within her.

“Next time you can return the favour,” he insisted, tilting her chin up to place a chaste kiss to her swollen lips.

“Who said there’ll be a next time?” Aevryn asked, unsure if she should want that or not.  Though right then she knew her logic had fled as soon as he’d kissed her that first time, so any thing she thought she wanted was automatically tainted.

“I hope there'll be a next time,” Valdo admitted, his bravado hollow and the desperation in his emerald eyes twisted Aevryn’s stomach.  “I know you probably don’t believe a word I say, but I meant it,” he admitted softly, voice sober.  “About… missing you, and not just the sex,” he added quickly.  “About… us.”  He said the word hopefully.

Aevryn swallowed, his words washing over her.

Us.

“I was serious too,” she murmured, not quite able to look him in the eye.  “No more stupid games like you played earlier, Valdo.  Prove to me things’ll be different.”

Looking up, her breath shuddered at the stillness of his face.  The vulnerability in his clear green gaze was almost too much for Aev to handle, but she forced herself to meet his eyes.

“I—“ quickly closing her mouth before she admitted something she might regret, she straightened Valdo’s shirt.  “There, now your fans won’t suspect a thing,” she murmured shyly.  “I better get back before the others start wondering where I am.”

“Right,” he said, catching her cheek in his hand, thumb brushing lightly over skin once more; he admired her, half afraid it might be the last time before nodding and stepping away.

Unable to keep herself from looking back over her shoulder at him as she walked away, her shoulders shuddered with silent sobs.

——

“Hey, where’d you go?” Jaskier asked, worry lacing his tone as Aevryn walked back into their tent. 

“Just went for a walk… to clear my head,” she lied.

“Did it work?” he asked, pulling up a lawn chair for her to plop into.

“No,” she sighed, this time being truthful, her stomach unsettled the more she thought about it.

Across the tent Yennefer’s violet eyes caught hers and the level stare she directed at her was far too knowing for comfort and Aevryn looked quickly away, her thoughts still roiling at the way Valdo had said Us.

[zankivich]

Neighbors: Shawn x Plus-Size Reader Chapter 2

a/n: hi friends. Feeling kind of down about all things writing at the moment, don’t know if I’ll continue at all. But this was already written so I figured I might as well post it. If you don’t hate it and feel like letting me know that’d be cool. I hope you all have a wonderful holiday. bye 

*Shawn’s pov*

He walked down the hallway jingling his keys and taking his time. Then just in case, he walked back to the other end. If anyone was around to see him, they’d surely think he was crazy. And maybe he was. This is the life that he had been destined for. Walking up and down the hallway of his apartment building in the hopes that the girl next door might pop out.

He’d been doing it for weeks and so far had only been successful twice. Since the night of their first meeting, and the subsequent morning after where they’d puked together for a couple of hours, she’d been stringing him along like she had the carrot and he was a rabbit. At first he’d thought maybe she wasn’t interested, was even going to give up, and try to move on. But, he’d stumbled upon her juggling a whole bunch of groceries one night and the conversation that followed told him that maybe he wasn’t crazy at all.

“Here let me help you.” He’d said reaching for the bag she’d be trying to balance between her knees.

“I had it.” She mumbled in response.

“Just let me help you. Accepting help isn’t the greatest weakness in the world you know.”

She was maybe the most stubborn woman he’d ever met in his life. And Jesus did he love every little bit of it.

“Thanks.” She said begrudgingly.

He followed her into her apartment which was much different than his own. Less bachelor pad, more grown woman with her shit vaguely together. She had a couch and a coffee table, and all of her furniture was mix match and different. It fit her somehow. And the longer he was in there the more he felt like he was learning about her. He peered over at where she stood in her kitchen, hip casually propped against the counter as she stared at him with crossed arms. He stepped further away from the living room, choosing instead to join her at the counter. He thought about the way her waist had felt under his hands when they danced, and the way her laugh sounded as they drank tequila. He wasn’t quite sure what to do about how much he thought about her. And the look on her face wasn’t exactly one of love and adoration. All of the confidence he had felt after the cuddling and the dance had completely washed out of him.

“Can I ask you something?”

He leaned against the other side of her counter, his legs long enough that they rested on either side of hers.

“Sure.”

“Do you like… do you not want me around?” He mumbled eyes on his fingers which were fidgeting with his ring. “Cause I kinda thought that we might of hit it off in my apartment. I mean I know there was alcohol involved so maybe...I just don’t want to bother you if you don’t want that.”

She stared at him for a second, and he got the feeling that she was trying to decide whether or not she was going to be honest with him. When her face softened, it was as if a wall came down, and he had somehow moved on to the next level of knowing her more deeply.

“I… guess I’m just confused on why you want to be around so much.” She shrugged.

He nodded trying to wrap his mind around everything that she was.

“So it’s not that I make you uncomfortable. Or that you don’t like me?”

“No I,” She paused and her cheeks darkened. “I like you.”

He smiled at her, completely incapable of stopping the twitch of his muscles. And maybe she rolled her eyes and tried to play it off, but it didn’t matter. Now he knew.

So he took some extra time every now and then--or every single time he entered the building--to see if she might come around. It was a tuesday night and that meant that she should be getting home from work any minute. He’d landed in Toronto that afternoon for a break after promo, having spent the day with his sister and mom, and all he wanted was to ask her about her day.

When he saw her get off the elevator this time, his heart leaped in his chest. And not just in the way it had been doing since she’d knocked drunkenly on his door at two am looking for salt. There was a man with her this time and his arm was draped casually over her shoulder like it belonged there, and yet he’d never seen anything that looked more wrong. He moved quickly to get into his apartment, not wanting to be found creeping in the hall while her date dropped her off. The saddest part was having to physically restrain himself from staring through the peephole, but his heart already felt broken and he wasn’t in the mood to torture himself more than he already had.

He changed out of the outfit he’d worn, both to show his mother that he wasn’t completely helpless without her, as well as to maybe make the pretty girl next door notice, and grabbed angrily for his guitar. His fingers were itching, he couldn’t get his feet to stay still, and his stupid heart wanted very much to head in the direction of his next door neighbor. It was the perfect combination for a song, and a wounded heart.

*Y/n pov*

You notice when Shawn leaves town. Mostly because you were constantly looking for him. Not in a weird way, you hoped at least, but just in a way of wanting to see him. After he had somehow gotten you to blatantly admit that you liked him--without any discussion of what kind of like that was--there hadn’t been much more development. You didn’t have his number, and he didn’t have yours, and despite the fact that you were literally inches from each other, it felt like he was so far away. He’d admitted to liking you too. That was the craziest part of it all, and yet both of you were just kind of watching from afar wondering what the hell either of you had meant by that.

That was partly why you’d gone out that night. Your best friend, Stu, had watched you sulk long enough apparently, and despite the fact that he didn’t know the crush you had was on the rockstar next door, he’d had enough of your moping. So he transfered you to a bar straight from work where you drank and moped and ate tacos. There were worse ways of moping, you guessed. When he dropped you off, arm wrapped around your waist to balance you in your heels the way only a true best friend would, you stared longingly at the door that you really wanted to be behind.

“You gonna be okay babes?” He asked.

You nodded sullenly. “Don’t mind me. I have a hitachi wand that does everything a man could ever wish to do for me.”

Stu wrinkled his nose and you smiled for the first real time of the night at your best fiend.

“You are just so hopelessly gay. Go home to your boyfriend. Stop worrying about me. I’ll be fine.”

“Fine. If you decide you finally want to talk about something that’s bothering you, you know I’m just a call away.”

You didn’t have the heart to tell him that this particular burden could only be solved by six feet, two inches of pasty Canadian. So, you hugged him and let him get on with his night instead.

You changed back into your oversized t-shirt and shorts, and settled about baking something that would make you forget about Shawn. You found the process of creating something from nothing to be particularly soothing, and thought that maybe it might help. And if not that, certainly the added bottle of wine would do the trick. There was no thinking about Shawn when you made the pie crust. There was no thinking about Shawn when you were sauteing the apples. And there definitely wasn’t any thinking about Shawn on your third glass of wine when you swore you saw his face in your caramel sauce. What a shit show.

The pie was just coming out of the oven when you heard your neighbor blasting some very sad shit. It sounded like maybe it was an alternative band that would once have been a emo/scream-o band in 2008, but had evolved. Shawn happened to look like an innocent puppy with big floppy ears every single time you’d ever seen him, so the music was even more puzzling then it would’ve been for any one else on the planet. Even more puzzling was the conscious understanding that he was home. He had to be… You scolded yourself. Going over to that man’s apartment tipsy for the second time in a row would be absolutely ridiculous. No. Just no.

And that is how you ended up outside of your neighbor’s apartment for a second time, far less done up than when you’d cuddled in his bed. In your fuzzy slippers and oversized tee you knocked hard against his door, hoping that he would be able to hear you over the depressing music.

*Shawn’s pov*

The knock on the door is the last thing in the world he wanted to deal with. He had half a mind to pull the rockstar card and ask for them to fuck off. Despite being twenty-three years old, he felt more like a sappy teenager than ever, and he just wasn’t in the mood to have someone tell him to turn his music down when the woman he liked was probably in love with someone else. They had definitely never defined any sort of relationship; hell, he hadn’t even talked to her more than a couple of times. He had no right to be hurt by her living her own fucking life, but…he was.

When he opened the door and she was standing there in fucking fuzzy slippers with a pie in one hand and a bottle of wine in the other, he thought for sure he must be dreaming. But she had this adorable, awkward grin on her lips that he wanted to kiss, and knew that his brain wasn’t even remotely capable of imagining such a beauty.

“H--Hi.” He mumbled, dazed.

She blinked her annoyingly long lashes at him.

“Hey. I...I didn’t know you were home again.”

His ears perked up at this.

“You noticed that I left?”

Her cheeks reddened and he felt his heart reform itself in his chest. Wow.

“No I--I just…” She stuttered. “I heard the music. Sounded like maybe you could use some pie.”

No one had ever baked for him before. And he didn’t know he wanted it, needed it even until right in this moment.

He smiled at her. “So, you baked me a pie?”

Her lips parted drawing attention to her mouth and his eyes traveled there unwittingly. She was beautiful and he was maybe just a tad bit hopelessly into her already. Her big, brown eyes rolled at him so hard he thought they might pop out of her head. She cocked her hip in the most sassy manner he’d ever seen, but all he could do was remember what it had felt like to hold her hips in his hands, what is had felt like to mold himself to the back of her body. His mouth was suddenly dry.

“I did not bake you a pie. I baked a pie. I bake when I’m stressed, and you are just simply reaping the benefits from my hell of a life.”

“You’re stressed?” He frowned before suddenly moving into action. “What are you doing standing in the hallway? Come in.”

He slid the wine from one of her palms sliding his hand there instead and pulled her into the safe confines of his home. Shawn thought that she looked like she belonged on his couch. And the visual of her tucking her legs under one of the oversized pillows his Mum bought him made his whole chest feel warm. He made a mental note to thank her for buying the pillows again.

He popped the cork on the wine and poured each of them a glass, tucking some plates and silverware under his arm before making his way back to her. When he sat down his knee brushed against both of hers which were folded sideways so that her body was angled towards him. They both looked at each other before awkwardly looking away and take a gulp out of their respective glasses.

“So, what’s bothering you, honey?” He asked propping his arm against the hand he had leaned against the back of the couch.

She shrugged twirling the glass around in her fingers.

“It’s not that I’m bothered by anything. I just went out to dinner with a friend, and he and his boyfriend are like ten years strong, so everytime we go out together it feels like he’s pitying me. But he’s my best friend, and I love him. So even though I don’t really like to bother him; he kinda calls bullshit.”

The guy who dropped her off.

His eyes widened. “Boyfriend? Like...as in a gay boyfriend?”

Her eyes immediately turned to slits and he’d never seen someone’s face change so drastically so quickly.

“Yea? Is that a fucking problem?”

Nice fucking going, moron.

“No! No, no, no. That--That’s wonderful! I mean...I love gay people!! Honest. I--I met the fab five at this netflix event thingy and Tan France totally exposed me to the power of a printed floral shirt.”

She stared at him like maybe she thought he was the dumbest fucker alive, which he most definitely was. Even if she was single, he was going to end up with her hating him before he’d even gotten a chance.

“Hmmm.” She hummed seemingly deciding that he probably wasn’t a homophobic asshole. “What do you say we eat the pie now?”

She set the pie on one of the plates and instead of cutting either of them a slice dug her fork directly into the cripsy center of the pie. The room filled with smells of cinnamon and apples, and his stomach rumbled appreciatively. Then, out of nowhere, she was lifting the fork towards his mouth instead of her own, and he immediately fell even harder. She seemed to stare accusingly at her hand, as if she wasn’t sure why she’d made that decision, so he moved to close the gap between his mouth and the fork lest she change her mind.

“Oh my god.” He groaned around the metal. “You fuckin made that?”

She chuckled at him and the smile on her face nearly did him in more than the pie did.

“Like I said...I like to bake.”

“Will you bake me things all the time? I mean you should be selling this!” He rambled plucking the fork from her fingers to take another bite. “You might just have the cure to cancer in a pie, and no one knows about it.”

“Shawn, I assure you there is no cure for cancer in my pie. There may be connections to heart disease with all the butter, but no cancer.”

Bummer.

“That’s okay. I still support you in all your endeavors.” He assured her.

“Well thank you...As long as you as support me.”

They smiled at each other and all of the tension from the last couple of weeks wasn’t there anymore. He got to just be with her, and it felt absolutely amazing.

They drank wine on his couch and ate her ridiculously incredible pie while catching each other up on their lives. It was wild to think that they’d only spoken a couple of times, because he kind of felt like he could tell her anything. There wasn’t any judgement there. He never knew how good it could feel to just have someone to talk to.

“So this is like...the biggest promo tour you’ve ever done?” She asked.

They’d discarded the pie and had settled close enough to each that their thighs were touching. The wine and the candles he’d lit earlier had each of them feeling warm, and her thighs were poking out of that big t-shirt that he kind of wanted to knot his fingers in and pull her closer. But he didn’t. He liked the idea of just being with her without trying to hit on her, and something about that felt important to him. He liked her that much.

“It’s definitely the most intense. Andrew is working really hard on navigating my cross-over from ‘teen pop star’ to ‘genuine adult artist’. I think the music will speak for itself. He kind of agrees with me, but wants to put me in as many situations as possible to make that happen. It means performing a lot, which is when I’m happiest, so I’m okay with it.”

She did this thing sometimes where she would hum while she thought about something. He had half the mind to call Charlie Puth and ask what key she was humming in because it sounded absolutely beautiful to him.

“Do you get to come home often?”

He nodded watching the way her eyes dipped to her lap. His fingers itched around his wine glass to tug her chin up so he could see them again. It felt like her question might be more layered than either of them was ready to admit

“Yea. I come home as often as I can. I mean...there are definitely times where I’m gone for weeks at a time, and when tour comes around I’d be gone most of the year, but even if it’s only for a couple of days I try to fly home. Toronto feels like a safe space...It--It recharges me.”

It feels like barriers are being broken. Like they’d been standing on opposite sides of the room, but with every passing minute, they were stepping close to each other. And he wanted that, wanted to know her as deeply as she’d let him. He got the feeling that she wasn’t used to opening up, and he wanted nothing more than to change that.

“But uh… What about you?”

She reached for the bottle of wine on his coffee table, refilling both of their glasses for the fourth or fifth time.

“What about me?”

He rolled his eyes and used his head to nudge at her shoulder playfully. What happened instead was that his head just kind of stayed there.

“Well I know you like to bake...I know you like tequila. I know salt on your fries is a must. And I know that you hate the idea of accepting help. I wanna know more.”

She took a deep breath and he felt her shoulder lift as she exhaled. She smelled like cinnamon and lavender. It was intoxicating.

“It’s not that I hate the idea of accepting help,” She mumbled. “I just am used to doing things without it.”

“How come?”

“You ask a lot of questions you know that?”

He nodded. “I figure if I keep asking eventually you’ll answer one of em.”

“Funny. You’re funny.”

He took another sip of wine and maybe he nuzzled his face a little more into her shoulder.

“You don’t have to tell me anything you don’t want to. I’m just here to listen.”

It takes a long while. They sit in silence and drink another full glass. Somehow it’s not awkward between them. He actually feels rather content. He thought that maybe he could sit in silence with her forever, and it’d be okay. Just as long as he could sit beside her with her hair tickling his forehead.

When she speaks it takes him by surprise. Mostly because of the sound starting as a rumble in her chest and hitting pleasantly at his ear. She doesn’t start out deep at all. She just tells him about her family at first. She used to be super close with her mom, but their relationship is complicated apparently.. She has three older brothers, who she thinks made her as tough as she is. But there also wasn’t a lot of time for emotions with four kids and a single mother, so maybe that has something to do with her struggle to let people in. She had a cat growing up that died while she was away at college, and she hasn’t adopted an animal since. One of her favorite albums of all time is The Stranger by Billy Joel. She’s always wanted to visit Amsterdam since she read The Fault in our Stars in high school. Peanut M&Ms are her favorite candy.

He realizes somewhere between the story of her mother taking her to see a scary movie for the first time--and how she’d been braver than any of her brothers--and the story of the time she broke her arm against a bully’s face, that she’s kind of absolutely incredible. And he’s not sure why that makes him smile so much, but it does. And he can’t help it. And he’s not sure that he’d ever want to.

“What is so funny, sir?” She asked when he’d been smiling into her shoulder like a maniac for over ten minutes.

They’ve drunk so much wine that all of his inhibitions are gone, and all that’s left is the truth.

“Nothing’s funny. You’re just insanely wonderful is all.”

He can feel her roll her eyes and before he knows it his wine glass is being pulled from his fingers.

“I think that’s enough for you, bud. Time for bed.”

“What? Nooooo, I wanna hear more about your eighth grade emo phase!” He whined indignantly.

“Another time. I have a feeling if I keep getting you drunk like this, there are gonna be some very angry record execs looking for me.”

She got up off the couch and helped him into a standing position. He was maybe a little more wobbly than he’d like, but it wasn’t as if he was hammered off a little wine. Nonetheless he wrapped his arm around her shoulder and let her drag him towards the bedroom. Maybe because he just wanted to be close to her.

“No one would dare yell at you, ever, sweetheart. I’d fire them on the spot.”

She chuckled and squeezed appreciatively at his hip in a way that shot sparks across his skin.

“It’s nice to know someone’s looking out for me.”

They make it to his bedroom, which isn’t too different from the guest room they slept in last time. It’s just a little bigger, and so is the bed, and he’s got pictures of his family and friends on the dresser. Most of his awards stay in his old bedroom in Pickering, but his first artist of the year award for the MMVAs sits on his desk, because it was from Canada, from home, and it served as a reminder of everything he’d accomplished.

“You okay now?” She asked once he made his way safely into the bed.

He yawned reaching for her hand with his own.

“I’m fine. Come lie with me though.”

“Shawn, I should go back home.”

He sighed squeezing her fingers tightly in his own

“It’s fine, it’s fine. Just for a minute. Please?”

It takes a little tugging before she is lying beside him. He can’t help but hide his face in her hair again, the smell of lavender so calming in his nose. His arm snakes around her waist without ever talking to his brain first and through the haze he recognizes the important of checking in first.

“I--Is this okay? Please tell me if it’s not.”

He’s hold her gently with his hands and they’re not making eye contact, and he just needs to know that it’s not wrong. That she wants it too.

“It’s okay.” She murmured and laid her hand on the arm covering her waist to give it a gentle squeeze.

“Are you sure?”

“I promise. Thank you for asking.”

They fall asleep with their legs intertwined and their bodies pressed together. He sleeps better than he did the entire time he was away.

***

*Y/N’s point of view*

It just becomes a thing that you do all of a sudden. You’ll knock on his door, or he’ll knock on yours and you wind up sitting on his couch for hours. It’s like you’re...friends. Friends who fall asleep holding each other every now and again, or all of the time. He talked to you about music stuff, and it never felt gloaty or pompous. It was his world and he let you into it, because he said it made him feel good to talk to someone outside of it all for a change. Some days he spoke industry talk that went over your head a lot, but you listened anyway. Other days he spoke of melodies and songs and his passion for his work. And those were always your favorite because his eyes lit up and he stammered more and he just had the most perfect look in his eyes to you.

Besides the times when he’s talking to you about record labels and industry mishaps, you find yourself forgetting that he’s not just your neighbor. You get the feeling that he prefers it that way. Neither of you acknowledge what it is exactly that you’re doing. Is it friends? Is there a deeper attraction there? He didn’t seem to want to push you towards any particular decision, and quite honestly you were still having trouble wrapping your mind around everything that he was. But that didn’t stop him from pulling you into his bed at the end of the night and tucking your head under his chin. It didn’t stop him from holding your hand at random times, or insisting on you sharing a blanket despite the multiple ones available. It was a weird sort of limbo that you found yourself in.

It’s another night of hanging out, only this time in your apartment, when the scale tips a little more out of balance. You were sitting criss-cross applesauce beside each other eating takeout with chopsticks when he brought it up.

“So…” He hedged, around a mouthful of lo mein. “I wanted to ask you something.”

“Sure, what’s up?”

“I have to go away for a little while. I’m spending some time in New York. Couple of talk shows, a little recording, some meetings.”

You nodded. “Do you want me to like… water your plants or something?”

“Water my--No! No, why would I...No. I was actually wondering if you wanted to tag along.”

“Tag along? Like go with you...To New York?”

“Yea!” He said eyes bright and puppy like. “Look it’s not that weird. I have friends come visit me on the road all the time. You know how I told you I get lonely when I’m doing those long ass business meetings with all the old folks, it drives me crazy. Come with me.”

It feels weird. And not just because this thing between the two of you keeps festering but because you also haven’t really hung out outside of the confines of your apartment building. Leaving the country feels fast, it feels... like maybe it means something. You’re just not sure what.

“I don’t know Shawn... Can I think about it for a couple days?”

He nods, smile not dimming in the slightest.

“Of course. It’s uh--it’ll probably be next week. Andrew is getting flight information together now so I asked him to get an extra ticket just in case. There’ll be a spot for ya.”

“Okay. Yea, okay.”

You sit in silence for a while each of you munching on noodles. It’s not necessarily awkward, but it lacks the usual comfort that you two had had since the very beginning. Shawn proceeded to fidget with his food sending you random glances over his kung pao chicken. You didn’t know what to say, so you stayed quiet.

“Listen y/n did I--”

A knock on the door interrupts him, and quite frankly you’d never been so happy for unannounced company.

At the door is none other than your best friend, the light of your life, Stu, and suddenly you realized that you’d neglected to have the “my neighbor’s a rockstar” talk with him. So much for welcoming unannounced company.

“Stu!” You gasped. “What’cha doin’ here bud?”

He raised an eyebrow. “Bryan was getting on my nerves, and I needed to come vent. Since when are you so squeaky?”

“Squeaky? Who’s squeaky? I’m not squeaky!”

His eyes slanted closer into slits. He knew you better than anyone and that very rarely played to your advantage.

“Are you fucking someone in there?!”

Very. Rarely.

“Shhh! Would you keep your mouth down, no one is fucking anyone.” You hissed.

“Okay, okay. Sorry, jeez!”

You both took a second to take deep breaths and calm yourselves the fuck down. Shawn thought this might be the perfect time to intervene apparently.

“Is everything okay, sweetheart?”

Those fucking pet names of his would be the death of you.

“Ah ha!”

Your best friend cheered as if he had just cracked the fucking case, and promptly kicked your door open to reveal Shawn sitting on your couch in shorts,  black tube socks, and a headband on like he was either about to work out or do a face mask. What a shit show.

He paused, box of lo mein in hand, and a bite of food he was definitely stealing from your container still raised to his mouth.

“Uh...hi?”

“Excuse me?!” Stu exclaimed. “You’re telling me I’ve been at home worried you were falling into a downward spiral and your ass has been sitting up in here canoodling with Canadian treasure, Shawn Mendes?!”

“Canoodling?! We are not canoodling Stu!”

“Why are we yelling?!” Shawn asked.

You sighed. “We’re both pisces and over-dramatic, it’s kind of our thing.”

“Awww, I didn’t know you were a Pisces.”

Jesus.

“Oh this is normal.” Stu nodded sarcastically.

“I’m sorry. Hey man, I’m Shawn. You must be Stu, I’ve heard a lot about you”

Stu stared at Shawn like he had three heads before staring at you like had four of them. There must have been some unofficial best friend rule that said if one were to ever hang out with one of the biggest selling pop acts of the decade and not tell said best friend, you were kind of the worst.

He took a deep breath before rolling his eyes and moving past you to plop down on your couch.

“I’ve heard absolutely nothing about you, Shawn. Please do tell.”

You looked to your couch where the boy you sort of liked and your best friend were suddenly interacting. It felt as if your bubble had been popped. Like it wasn’t your own little secret with Shawn anymore. And you couldn’t help but wonder what New York would like, what it would be like if the whole world knew you were friends. This terrified you beyond belief.

Slowly, and not without difficulty, you make your way back to the couch where the two men are talking about the fact that Shawn lives next door. You picked up your noodles and tried not to freak out at the latest development. Shawn peered over at you as he was talking and seemed to notice that things weren’t a hundred percent okay.

So smoothly you barely noticed yourself, he rearranged himself on the couch ever so slightly so that his shoulder was pressed more soothingly against yours. It was something he’d only done a couple of times before, and it had only been when you were noticeably stressed. But you peered over at Stu and his eyes seemed to be zoned in on the lack of space between the two of you. And your mind imagined that on a grander scale, of hundred of thousands of people scrutinizing your every move, your every atom. It made your skin itch, and your chest feel a little tight. You shifted on the couch, leaning slightly farther away from Shawn so that you were sitting on individual cushions again.

Shawn looked at you, Stu simultaneously looking at the both of you, and you sort of wished you could melt into the couch. It was definitely the most awkward hour of your life, and you had someone manage to go through puberty.

***

By the time Stu leaves, it is after one in the morning, and your body and mind are thoroughly exhausted. The apartment is silent as Shawn and you work to clean up the mess from your dinner. You can feel him peering at you, but you try to ignore it, try to work through the awkwardness that has settled between the two of you. You feel more separated from him than ever and you can’t help but be surprised at how shitty of a feeling that is.

Shawn stood next to the sink as you loaded the dishwasher, leaning his long limbs against the counter. You have your head down by the plates when he brings it up.

“So I feel like I’ve done something wrong.” He murmured.

“You didn't. Everything’s fine.”

“Yea, see the problem is that I don’t believe you.”

You stood up reaching over him for another glass to slot into place never making eye contact.

“Well that’s not my problem. I told you nothing is wrong, just drop it.”

“Hey,” He muttered reaching for your arm gently to stop you. “Why are you angry with me? Talk to me.”

His thumb nips at your chin, titling your eyes upward so that you have no choice but to meet his. When the room is empty and no one else is around, it’s so easy to get lost in this. His thumb sends sparks across your skin, and you want to just nuzzle into his chest and go lie in your bed for a little while. And in moments like this, more than anything, you want to demand that you tell him what all of it means, because his hands on your hips don’t feel friendly ever.

“I can’t…”

“You can’t what? Tell me what’s going on inside your head right now.”

Your eyes flicker down to the tattoo on the back of his hand and you press your thumb against the ink as if it will give your more courage to speak. Maybe it does. Or maybe it’s just the comfort of his skin touching yours.

“I can’t go to New York with you. I--I can’t be seen standing next to you.”

You see the hurt flash in his eyes and your whole body completely rejects the notion that anything could ever be allowed to hurt him, that you yourself could ever be capable of such a thing.

“No. No--shit, Shawn I don’t mean it like that. I’m not embarrassed of you. I just...I don’t think I’m ready to have people stare at me like that. The way Stu was looking at us tonight? He’s never looked at me like that. I’m not ready for that kind of scrutiny.”

Shawn’s eyes dropped, a curl fighting its way from underneath his headband to fall into his eye. You reached hesitantly up to tuck it back into place only for Shawn to wrap his hand around your wrist and keep you there.

“So it’s not that you don’t want to be my friend anymore? Or that I fucked something up talking to Stu?”

“Of course not. You’re actually kind of perfect. I think if Stu wasn’t definitely endgame with Bryan he probably would’ve hit on you tonight.”

Shawn nodded letting your wrist go so that he could wrap his arms around your waist instead. You nestled your head against his chest and sighed a sigh of relief as the tension eased slowly out of the room. He held you close swaying your bodies gently back and forth. You could hear the rhythm of his heart and you worked to match your breathing to his. It calmed you immensely, and made everything else seem insignificant.

“Sorry for overwhelming you, honey.” He mumbled into your hair.

“It’s not your fault. It’s okay.”

“I’ll wait for you ya know? For as long as you need.”

It’s another weighted statement, that neither of you know what it means. Or, maybe you both know what it means and you’re just not willing to admit it yet. But, he lets you wrap your arms around his shoulders, and he lets you hide in his chest for a little while longer. And apparently he’ll wait for you for as long as you need. Even if neither of you quite understand what he’s waiting for. For now, this is enough you suppose.

[xchaosandmagic]

Moments. A Handon Story.

Written for my best friend (@naturesloopholed) for our discord verse with prompts from https://sentence-prompts.tumblr.com/. Prompts are both in italics and bold print.

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

Hope has a lot of moments in her life that she remembers. Good moments and bad moments. Moments.

Moments she wants to remember forever, moments she wishes she could just forget.

Funerals and parties and fights.

Moments of joy and moments of sorrow. Moments.

Some of her favorite moments are with her family, some with her friends, and some with him.

Out of everyone she shared moments of her life with, the moments she spent with him were the most varied. Most of them were happy, but there was a lot of sad ones and frustrating ones too.

As she stood there, dressed in black, screaming out at the wind, their moments together flashed through her mind.

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

She reminded him of a lightning storm, beautiful but dangerous. He told her that once, right after they’d made love. She was pregnant and knew it, but hadn’t told him yet. They were in love, but that was yet another secret that was kept tucked away at this moment.

There was a bit of sunlight creeping in through the window, highlighting the red in her auburn hair, making his green eyes shine bright.

She was curled in his arms, partially laying on her stomach and staring up at his face. He was laying on his back, his shoulders and head propped up by the pillows against the headboard. He drew absentminded shapes on her skin, heart and swirls and stars.

“You remind me of a lightning storm.” He told her, looking at her lips before bringing his eyes up to meet hers, only to find her frowning at him. “Beautiful, but dangerous.”

She grinned, of course she would, both of those words were compliments to her. “Well thank you very much, Mr. Kirby.” She told him before shifting so she was sitting alongside him, she kissed his cheek. “I have to go now, I’m meeting my aunt Bekah for brunch.”

“Have fun with that.” Landon smiled softly at her, cupping her cheek to bring her in for a soft and slow kiss.

“Mmm.” Hope hummed when he pulled back, her eyes staying shut for a moment before only opening halfway. “Keep doing that and I might forget about brunch completely.”

“And then your aunt will know we were...you know.” Landon replied, his cheeks flushing slightly.

“So? I’m a big girl.” Hope told him, despite still being a month from turning 18. “My aunts both know that I do what I want.”

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

“No I’m not being creepy! I’m staring at you with a sketchbook. That’s universally deemed uncreepy.” Hope had told him one afternoon as they sat in the park, Landon playing his guitar and writing down a few unspoken words here and there, they must’ve sounded good with the chords in his head or something.

“You are being creepy, Hope.” Landon chuckled at her, not looking up from his notebook. “You are silently staring at me.”

“With a sketchbook.” Hope reminded, speaking slowly to make a point. “And if you would pay a little more attention to me, maybe I wouldn’t seem so creepy.”

“I am paying attention to you.” Landon finally met her eyes. His seemed bright, and happy. She made a mental note about that, reminding herself of how she could always tell his emotions by how his eyes looked.

“You haven’t said two words in the last half an hour.” Hope pointed out, it might have seemed like she was trying to start a fight if she hadn’t been smiling.

“I’m trying to write a beautiful ballad about your beauty.” Landon tried to say it with a straight face but failed miserably, he was writing her a love song but how he said it made it sound so corny.

Hope laughs softly and pushed him backwards, grabbing his guitar and setting it off to the side, along with her sketchbook, before she leaned down and kissed him.

Landon stared up at her like she held the stars in her eyes. “You know there are kids around, right? This just makes us both seem creepy.” 

Hope laughed and swatted his arm lightly. “You can be such an asshole, Landon Kirby.” She was teasing him. They hardly ever had real fights, or at least not over stupid and petty stuff like this.

“Hmmm...Can I? I did not know this.” Landon joked sarcastically back, sitting up when she finally stopped leaning over him. “So you have my attention, what now?” He asked, his eyes shining even more, if that was even possible.

“I’m pregnant.” The words fall out of her mouth before she can stop them, and she feels a tightness in her chest, a new fear falling over her suddenly. What if he was upset? What if he decided he didn’t love her anymore? Or that he didn’t want the baby? They could very easily get rid of the baby girl.

“You...are pregnant…” Landon said slowly, the shock evident on his face and in his voice. “Well, I always dreamed of us having kids together, of course I thought we’d be older, but we can do this...right?” Landon asked, an unsureness in his voice.

Hope smiled at him and nodded. “We can.” She said softly, reaching out to take his hand in her. “Together.”

“I just hope our child isn’t as creepy as you are.” Landon grinned at her after saying that.

Hope gasped, a small giggle escaping her lips. “You are such a jerk!” She shrieked at him, pushing him back down and kissing him.

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

“If I didn’t love you, I’d beat your ass for that.” She’s angry because he put himself in harms way, but he was only trying to protect her and their baby from getting hurt, and he always comes back.

“Phoenix, remember? I die, I come back.” Landon said, looking up at her from the pile of ash they he had yet to fully stand out of.

“But what if one time you don’t come back?” Hope was obviously very emotional and scared, maybe it was from the hormones or maybe it was because she was honestly scared.

Landon was quick to get up and go to her, wrapping his arms around her and pulling her close to him. “That won’t happen.” He whispered reassuringly.

“You don’t know that.” Hope said quietly, her head resting on his chest as she cried softly.

Landon rubbed her back. “I’m sorry, I just couldn’t bear the idea of something happening to you or our baby.” He pressed a kiss to her forehead.

“Well can you do that without dying?” Hope begged, if she wasn’t still so scared she would hate how weak she sounded. But it was him, and she didn’t mind him seeing her weak, as long as no one else did.

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

But this was one moment she wanted to forget. Because, now came the saddest part of any relationship, the goodbye.

He was wrong. It did happen. He died and didn’t come back. A phoenix doesn’t have many weaknesses, but there was one. And one weakness was all it took. Gold. More specifically, a golden tipped arrow straight to the heart.

He was dead and not coming back. Stone cold. Pale. Lifeless.

And Hope never felt such pain before. Not when she lost her mother, not when she lost her father, not eve when she thought she had lost their baby girl. This was different. It was like someone completely ripped her heart out. He was her soulmate, she was more convinced of that in his death than she ever had been when he was alive.

She blamed herself, even though it wasn’t really her fault.

A supernatural headhunter, someone who had a kill list that contained one of every supernatural being on it, except for a phoenix. Which he got right before Hope proceeded to rip his beating heart from his chest. That gave her a small sense of gratification when she plunged her hand into his chest, hearing and feeling how his heartbeat quickened at the knowledge that he would soon die. She took pleasure in ripping it from his chest. Screaming out as she clutched it, crushing it as the headhunter’s body fell to the ground.

She stood there a moment before screaming, dropping the heart as she fell to her knees in the October mud. They were out enjoying a beautiful day with their little girl. Enjoying the early fall weather, it was crisp but not cold.

He would never see his daughter grow up.

The day of the funeral, the temperature dropped and a sudden wind chill came in. Hope, as the young widow, had to go to the funeral even if all she wanted to do was stay home and cuddle her baby. She left Addy with Rebekah for the day, deeming it too cold for the almost three year to be out.

All throughout the funeral, she held it together. Didn’t shed a tear the entire time, forcing herself to just keep it together.

She stayed until everyone else left, staring at the casket at the head of the church, she had insisted on his having a proper funeral. And a proper grave, so that Addy could visit his grave.

Hope didn’t know that Lizzie had stayed behind to make sure she was okay, not until the blonde followed her out of the church. “You can’t just hold it in like that.”

“He’s gone, like really gone, Liz.” The raw emotion in Hope’s voice was almost enough to make Lizzie break down in sobs.

“You need to grieve, there’s nothing wrong with grieving, go ahead and let it out.”

Hope was silent for a moment before screaming and letting her magic wreak havoc on the ground and trees in front of her, her scream quickly turned into a wail, and she stopped her magical assault on the trees as she fell to the ground, sobbing uncontrollably.

Lizzie was at her side as fast as the siphoner could be, dropping to her knees beside her friend, not caring that her white tights might be ruined by mud or dirt or torn up by twigs. She carefully pulled Hope into her arms as the tribrid sobbed.

Hope clung to her friend like the blonde was a liferaft, keeping her from drowning or drifting away. Like Lizzie was the only thing currently tying her to life.

“You’re not alone.” Lizzie whispered to her, holding on to the auburn haired widow. “You are not alone, Hope.” She placed a kiss to the crown of her best friend’s head and held her until they absolutely had to get up to go to the burial spot.

Lizzie walked beside Hope through the cemetery, watching as the pallbearers carried Landon’s casket to the grave sight. If it hadn’t been for the blonde, Hope might’ve collapsed and not been able to walk to the grave.

“Goodbye my love.” Hope whispered, tears brimming her eyes as she took a handful of dirt in her hand, letting it fall into the grave as Lizzie squeezed her other hand and Rafael gently rubbed her shoulder, both trying to offer her their support.

The end.

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

[arthurmorganthings]

Surgeon and the Scientist.

Pairing: Javier x Painter!Femreader

Summary: “But don't trust the surgeon with your heart, She's drunk and sips from poison cups, and don't you trust the scientist, He says "life-is-like-a-wineglass" as he spills his drink like secrets all across your dress.”

Explicit Content: +18

Hands stained with tertiary colors and the soft bristles of your brush, you practiced realism with the help of Flat Iron Lake, Clemens Point offered you peace when you weren’t off doing chores for Miss Grimmshaw. Your tent filled with journals of rough sketches with studies you’d find upon each travel. The study of outlaws napping aimlessly in saloons, working girls reeling in potential clients—your favorite person of interest to draw was him.

Javier Escuella. His soft features enthralled you, when he played his guitar with such passion, beckoned you. Though you’d been riding with the Van Der Linde boys for quite some time, you hadn’t said much to him. Occasional hellos, and small talk perhaps—but a full fledged conversation? Never sparked. You craved interaction so bad, you started to think perhaps you weren’t his type after all.

You knew the type of man he was, the men he surrounds himself with. There were times he wouldn’t come back until the crack of dawn—Javier laid with women. Charming them with his native tongue, into the soft sheets he’d lay his head on.

Jealousy found you quickly, gripping the brush tightly as you paint the undertones of the sky. Perhaps it was a silly dream of yours, but someday you’d be a world renowned painter, with suitors from every continent feigning to see your beautiful art.

A girl could dream. But until that time, you’d continue to paint until your hands grow brittle, and weak. You sensed a body hover behind you, “What chu’ paintin’ there?”

Oh. It was Arthur. You pivot with your back foot as your hand still gripped at your brush, your easel wobbles. “Hello. Nothing too important, just figured I had some free time, so here I am.”

He chuckles, rubbing freshly trimmed beard. “You kiddin’ me? It’s beautiful—err, it’s like a picture.”

He always had such a way with words, or none at all. His quirkiness was apart of his cowboy charm. You laugh wholeheartedly. “Thanks. I suppose.”

“You got time to spare?”

You blink. “I mean I-“

“Have a drink with me.”

His forwardness came as a surprise, one drink wouldn’t hurt anyone, would it?

“I should put my easel away then.” You respond softly but Arthur beats you to it. Kentucky Burbon in his hand, you assume is from his Satchel. Handing it to you, you hesitantly take the liquor. The sharp smell of whiskey in filled your nostrils as you winced before taking a swig.

The taste was—well, repulsive to say the least as you return Arthur his bottle. “I can never get used to Burbon.”

He laughs, before taking his swig. “You and I both.”

You continue talk of the old days, when the gang was set on helping folk and less on the idyllic greed for money—it seems when Micah joined, was when the root of all the gang’s problems arised.

Two shots of bourbon became three, then four, then the whole bottle.

Throughout the day, you and Arthur tell tales of drunken banter such as today. It was wholesome. He’s like a big brother figure, you wished to spend quality time with but knew his role within the gang.

Arthur was their support, Hosea was the anchor.

Nightfall crept as the two of you sat near the campfire, the fire cackles as you hug your knees—thoughts of him flooding your mind. Javier had yet to return from his Homestead job with Sean, unless he was pent up in some hotel inside of a whore, they’d camped out somewhere—your cheeks flush at the thought of him doing things unimaginable.

Arthur senses your unease. “You okay kid?”

Your head perks up, staring into his. “It’s nothing.” Your words slur, dejectedly. “I’m just conflicte—Javie—shit, Arthur.”

He sees what’s going on now. “You like ‘im.” He states.

You wanted to slap yourself for setting yourself up for inevitable teasing, but you frown instead. “He doesn’t like me. I’m plain-looking, Javier likes exotic women, and I—well, I’m, me.”

Tears on the brim of coming out as Arthur sighs, “You must be a fool to sell yourself short. Javier is an even bigger fool.”

Before you can argue with him, the faint sounds of horseshoes grazing the mulch of the woods could be heard. Lenny, who was on watch calls, “Took y’all long enough to get back.” It was him.

Your heart dropped to your stomach as Javier hitched his horse. Arthur pats your shoulder reassuringly, “Remember what was said.” As he shuffles to his tent. Javier writes his name in the ledger before placing the undisclosed amount in he camp’s donation box. You felt like a lamb, watching as its prey nears closer.

Removing his clunky boots, Javier grabs his guitar from his tent before shuffling towards the campfire. He was surprised to still see you up, as most of the gang was either asleep or in town. You placed your chin onto your knees as your arms hugged the shins. Javier sits himself next you with his guitar.

A tense beat of silence ensued, almost awkward, but Javier had the first say, “You’re never up this late.”

“You aren’t ever at camp to begin with.” Thank god for the alcohol to enable your bold behavior. You would have never said something like this if you were in a sober state of mind. Javier sniggers, tuning his guitar. You took the time to observe how his fine fingers caress his guitar so smoothly. God, If only he’d do the same to you.

“Yeah well, duty calls my love.”

My love.

You suddenly felt a warm pool at your core. Javier was a man of many skills so it would seem. He strummed beautifully, the tunes releasing from his acoustic. He paused, glancing at you, causing you to look away smoothly before he could notice.

“How’s your painting coming along?” He inquired.

“It’s coming along well,” you respond sheeplishly. “I didn’t think you noticed.”

Javier quirked an eyebrow, shaking his head. “I observed everything. “The drawings, how you stick your tongue out when you’re focused on the details of your paintings, how you look at me.” Your thighs squeezed together from underneath your skirt, Javier was no fool to know what he does to her.

He could never be with her, she was too good for him. But he’ll make her feel things she’s never felt before. Closing the distance from where he sat, wrapping his arm around you, Javier says,“I know that you’re mad at the man that I am, the life I lead.”

“I never said I was Javier. It’s just—I feel like a ghost to you, but I’m no fool to know that you sleep with women. And for the longest time ever, I asked myself—why couldn’t I be the one you have your way with?”

The alcohol was definitely taking its toll, what a story will this be in the morning. Javier’s expression was masked underneath his hat, but responds nontheless.

“Because I respect you too much to.”

You blinked, perplexed. “Javier, sleeping with said person shouldn’t equate the amount of respect you give someone. Dutch has his fair share of women but you hold him to such a high level.

“You shouldn’t speak on things you don’t know girl, it’s incessant.” He mumbles, throwing mini twigs he toyed with on the ground, into the fire.

“But I know, Javier.” You pause. “I know your type, I know you. Even if I’m invisible sometimes.”

You weren’t going to wait for his response, you simply removed yourself from his grasp, shuffling to your tent, near the lake. You opted for more privacy. It was larger than most, filled with old pieces and sketches scattered across the floor. Suddenly the flaps of your tent opened, causing your head to perk near the entrance. It was hard to see during the night but knew who it was.

Closing the flaps, Javier grabbed you by the neck softly. “You think you’re invisible to me?” He questions, his voice not the same from the fire, it was husky and deep. The callouses toying up and down your arm now filled with goosebumps.

“You would rather want me to fuck you like a whore instead? On your back like some working girl?”

Your innocent eyes widened at his crass language, the shift of character only turned you on more when his chest was against yours. Javier was short, but you was shorter by a few inches. His lips found the shell of your lobe.

“Come on. I want you to say it.”

“I, want you.”

He tightens his grip, illiciting a moan. You knew what he wanted you to say. Your soft fingers pressing at his hand. “I want you, to fuck me, like a whore.”

He chuckles. “On your knees then.”

You place yourself in front of him, knees kissing the ground you walked on as he unzips the seams. Your face flushed once graced with Javier’s girth—larger than you’d expect.

It’d be foolish to say he wasn’t a man that was well-endowed. His unconscious incompetence at times was rather amusing when observing him around camp. But when it came to laying with a man you’d yearned for.

This was completely different.

“Come on girl. His hand gripped at your cheeks, as he forced you to look up at him from your compromising position. “We don’t have all night.”

You waste no time taking his length into your mouth while staring up at him doe-eyed. The taste of precum ensued. Watching him groan before you brought a warmness to your stomach before staining your bloomers with an embarrassing amount of essence sure to show once they were removed. Nothing at this point in time mattered as you took him in some more. His pelvis thrusted forward as he gripped your locks of hair, forcing his cock down your throat—the movements followed continuously as you gagged.

Your eyes watered, saliva stained the sides of your cheek as he removed himself from your mouth to avoid from cumming. Javier did not want to miss his chance of getting to be inside of you. He growled, “Take these off.”

You followed suit, removing your plain blouse and skirt, followed by your chemise and bloomers. He pushes your onto the cart, on all fours. His thumb grazing your wet cunt with content upon touch.

You gasp, pulling at your lips softly as he rubs in circles.

“I’m gonna need you to keep quiet, princess.”

Your heart fluttered at the pet name as you nod, taking that as a confirmation. Once lined at your cunt, Javier sucks in a breath, the tightness of her walls would make any man groan in pleasure. “Fuck, you feel so good around me.”

You grip at the edge of the cot tightly, biting your lip, you wiggle your way further into his cock. He watches as it disappears and reappear again—it takes a lot out of him not to grab at your hips and fuck you. The squelching sound of your wet heap wasn’t making it any better either. It was embarrassingly loud it wouldn’t be a surprise if anyone from camp could hear the sounds of coitus.

Covering your mouth with your hands as Javier speeds up his pace by grinding his hips agains your back side, it grew difficult to stay quiet. How, when you wanted to let the world know the man of your dreams was fucking you with raw, unadulterated passion? The tiny squeals, and pants could only be heard by said lover as he lets out ragged breaths.

He whispered in your ear, “How bad do you want to cum?”

So goddamn bad. The precipice was near as you knit your brows together and nod in your mouth. Fearing the sounds that could come out of you removed them. He thrusts harder, his grunts increasing in volume while he pistons into your cunt—your face flushed, squealing into your palms while your body seeps into the cot.

“I said, how bad do you want to come?”

He wanted you to answer, in such a compromising position like this. You remove your hands briefly before replying, “So bad.” Your voice higher than last time as he grunts.

“Where do you want it?”

God if he was making her choose, she’d easily say inside. Despite what that may cause in the inevitable future.

“Anywhere, haaa.” She moans loudly, abosoloutly careless of her shameless inhibitions. Javier clasps his fingers across her mouth, digging at the cheeks—sighs of his own orgasm ensuing. His thrusts grew slopper, his jaw tightened with ragged breaths. Your walls convulsed before seeing white.

Eyes fluttering closed, mouth in a silent gasp as Javier’s seed fills your womb. You fall limp onto your cot before the overstimulating feeling of Javier remove himself from inside of you before adjusting himself back in his pantsuit.

A beat of silence followed, the only sound heard was the ragged breaths of both lovers. Feeling of realization hits you.

“Shit.” You curse. “I forgot, my canvas by the board walk. My paints are probably all dried out by now.”

“I’ll go get it for you. You get some rest.” Javier replies as he leaves for your tent. You call out to him before he does, causing him to turn around.

“Can we do this again?”

He smirks before pondering. “You know, my mom once said, don't trust the surgeon with your heart, She's drunk and sips from poison cups. And don't you trust the scientist, He says "life-is-like-a-wineglass" as he spills his drink like secrets all across your dress.”

You furrow your eyebrow, “The Surgeon? Javier what does this even m—“

“In due time, you’ll know.”

Upon his exit from the Tent, you lay back down onto your cot with a quilt covering your indecency, the line still engrained in your heart.

The surgeon, and the Scientist.

-

BTW THE SURGEON AND THE SCIENTIST IS MY FAVORITE LA DISPUTE SONG <3 FOR @famderlinde @jungle @mollyohshea 💗

[bohrapbachelorette-blog]

Borhap Bachelorette (Part 1)

Word Count: 2,156

Prompt: This is a Borhap boys x reader Bachelorette AU. 

A/N: This was written by @ @wewillfarrokhyou @anuknowha @tooweirdtolivetoogaytodie @freddiesstache  @queen-in-funerland @fatbottomedgwil 

We hope you like it! Also be sure to vote for who gets the first impression rose.

Taglist: @bitemerog @mr-stank-i-dont-feel-so-dank and @rogerinatrash @roger-bang-the-drum (who signal boosted my original post) Message me to be added to the list/follow this blog)

You had just arrived in front of the mansion. You were extremely nervous about being the star of The Bachelorette - you didn’t have too much experience dating before, and being on this show was supposed to be a chance for you to find love. What could you say? You were a true romantic at heart. You were dressed in your best gown, your makeup and hair done by the specialist, and now you sat waiting. You hadn’t met the guys yet, but they were due to arrive in the limo any second.

Chris Harrison came from inside the house and approached you.

“Hello, (y/n), how are you feeling?” He said, with his T.V. smile on.

“Hi Chris! I'm excited, but also quite nervous. Just really hoping to find the love of my life. I know I’m ready,” you smiled brightly and tucked a strand of hair behind your ear. Just then, the limo started to roll into the driveway and you heart began to race.

“Here we go...” you muttered to yourself.

A tall man with gorgeous cheekbones and a straight jawline got out of the limo and walks towards you, holding a pitch black acoustic guitar. Fender, you assumed - you weren't really knowledgeable about guitars. He had clear blue eyes and chestnut brown hair, with perfectly arranged facial hair. He started singing “You’re My Best Friend” as he walked towards you.

“Ooh you make me live, whatever this world can give to me...” As he was singing, people on the sides threw polaroids at you. You caught one - they were all pictures of him in various cute, Instagram-worthy poses. “Ooh you’re all I see..” you were laughing at how silly and sweet it was.

“Hello love, I’m Gwilym Lee. Lovely to meet you.” He says, taking your hand and giving it a kiss.

“That was a wonderful entrance,” you laugh, and he takes a bow.

He walked past you and into the mansion. He seemed like a genuinely sweet guy and you were excited to see who else was going to come.

Out of nowhere, the song “Boss Ass Bitch” began to play. You were incredibly confused until from around the corner you spotted a giant dinosaur dancing its way toward you. You burst out laughing at the ridiculous sight, your hand coming up to cover your mouth.

“Oh my god!” You yelled out, watching the dinosaur shake its hips.

The dino got on its knees and presented you with a rose. He unzipped the top part of the costume, showing ginger hair and bright smile. He roared and you laughed again.

“I’m Joe, Joe Mazzello,” he exclaimed. You took the rose out of his hand.

“Well, you certainly put on a show,” you said, highly amused.

“It’s all in the hips,” he joked.

He smiled and walked past you. You could already tell that Joe was going to be a lot of fun. He had a great sense of humour from the way you nearly cried laughing at his dinosaur dance. You wondered who was going to enter next.

“Remember the Time” by Michael Jackson began to play as a man in full egyptian clothing came out of a limo dressed like a pharaoh. He had tan skin and big blue eyes and his whole look gave a grandiose appearance.

“Hello, your highness,” you bowed at his costume.

“Well I was in Night at the Museum, so I couldn’t resist. I’m Rami Malek,” he beamed, holding out his hand.

“(Y/n),” you grinned, taking his firm handshake.

“I look forward to getting to know you,” he smiled as he walked behind you.

You were impressed by his kingly appearance and beautiful features. Night at the Museum? I only remember Ben Stiller... Who is he?, you thought to yourself. Only one more guy was left to join all of you in the bachelorette house. What kind of a person would he be?

Right on schedule, another limo appeared. It was loudly blaring — “I’m too sexy for my shirt, too sexy for my shirt…” The back half of the baby blue limo was a hot tub with an admittedly very cute blond sitting in it, shirtless, arms draped around the sides. His curly blond hair and chiseled abs were almost too much.

“Hey, baby. Care to join me?” His accent made you weak at the knees.

“Ah...I'm good, thanks.” You blushed and gave him a small smile.

“Oh. Um. Okay.” His pecs twitched almost nervously. Confused, he looked down, but it happened again and you started giggling uncontrollably.

“What was that?” Joe asked.

“What was wh-” the blond started, but it happened again. You and the other boys doubled over in laughter.

“I -” Hot Tub Man turned beet red and lifted himself out of the tub, wrapping a towel around his torso. A small laugh also escaped him. “I'm Ben Hardy. Nice to meet you.” Ben said as he walked over to you. He went to hug you but backed up a little when he realized that he was soaking wet. You muttered a quiet, “sorry” to him.

“I’ll save it for later,” he said, maintaining a suave composure as he walked to the mansion to dry further.

That was it. All the guys had already introduced themselves and made quite the impression on you. From the sweet romantic Gwil, to the funny and charming Joe, the royal Rami, and the gorgeous Ben. It was going to be a hard choice to see who gets the final rose. You just hope that the interviews help make it easier.

The guys were all drinking in the lounge of the mansion when you walked in. Chris Harrison walked to the front of the room.

“Well, this is it, enjoy your first night!” he said as he walked away.

All four guys were staring at you. You couldn’t help but to blush.

This was your time to play coy - you wanted them to believe there were things about them that you didn’t know. You wanted them to be completely honest and after you’d seen them on the set of Bohemian Rhapsody together you knew exactly how they would act both on and off set. Even while they were there, you’d watch them on social media and their interviews when they weren't with each other. Hell, you even knew their favorite foods but you wanted to hear it “straight from the horse’s mouth”, as they say. You knew that this was going to be fun, and you just had to let it play out right. You just had to be careful and pretend to be unaware of these guys and their pastimes.

Rami trailed off first. “Ms. (y/n), I’m not sure if you like cats, but I am severely allergic. Thought I’d let you know beforehand.” He grinned.

“Well, I’m a model!” Gwilym stated.

“We’re all models.” the other three sighed in unison.

Ben seemed to keep his eyes on you, making you a little uneasy.

“Your eyes are absolutely gorgeous Y/N. Look at how soft they are and how the light in this lounge absolutely twinkles off of them.”

It took a moment for you to process the information and once your brain finished establishing his words, you had time to notice that he had a shirt on.

“Oh, oh you’re Ben right?”

He held his hand out as the other three watched him and slowly looked over at you as you shook it.

“Great, now she’s going to like you more, and after I dressed like the best thing since sliced bread. I. Feel. Betrayed. Ben.” Joe huffed as he puffed out his cheeks and crossed his arms.

A small smirk appeared on the blonde’s face. He felt confident that he was the first one who made physical contact with you since you guys entered the mansion. His grip was firm but gentle, he wasn’t using too much force and but you could tell he didn’t seem to want to let you go. But he did.

“I love dinosaurs and the prehistoric age, I love history-” Joe stuttered to try to catch your attention.

“Is that what you majored in college, Joe?” You glanced over at him with a smile.

“Actually, I went to college for the cinematic arts, I wanted to make my experience on the big screen.” He grinned, his hands held in front of his face, and he slowly spread them apart as if he was making some kind of invisible rainbow. Almost as if he were about to do jazz hands.

“Well, I’m British darling, have you ever dated a man from another country?” Ben hummed.

“Not yet, but I’m still available,” Gwilym laughed.

Ben sent a glance over at him, one of slight disgust as he squinted his eyes.

You tried to contain your laughter but it was hard, you could tell you were in the room with a bunch of goofballs but you didn’t hate it- in fact, it made them each stand out, it was cute.

Rami caught your attention as he was sitting there, his eyes fixated on something else.

“Something wrong?” You questioned.

“Hmm?” He looked over at you, a bit embarrassed, as if you caught him doing something wrong.

“Nothing. I was just thinking about how beautiful you are,” A small smile formed on his face.

“Don’t mind him, he’s even like this in interviews,” Gwilym said.

“He’s been like this on our dates too,” Joe tried to whisper so Rami couldn’t hear.

“I hope you know, I did hear you, and I do pay attention, just not to your existence or your-” Rami paused and put his hand to his mouth pretending to cough. “Cold.  Isn’t that right, John?”

The room got silent for a second as Joe sent Rami a death stare. But his only response was to return it with a sly smirk.

Soon enough Joe tackled Rami off the couch and was playfully pulling at his suit as the other two burst out into laughter.

You laughed too and watched them all turn to you, momentarily stopping the fight.

Joe’s face lit up some, “Guys, she’s laughing at me. I’m funny.”

“Funny to look at…” Rami whispers.

This time, Joe playfully hit him in the arm and got off of him. And they all tried to gain back their composure. Rami fixed his jacket and straightened his tie.

You were still laughing, but soon tried to gather yourself as well. They were all smiling, you could tell that they were enjoying this talk with you.

“Weird that you’re allergic to cats but here you are playing Freddie Mercury, and being all lovey dovey with the creatures. You love them more than you love us,” said Joe.

“Not true,” Rami said with a small frown. “Not my fault that I was hot enough to play the leader.”

“But bloody hell, I was Roger and everyone loves a sexy drummer,” Ben grinned.

Gwilym let out a small chuckle. “Especially Joe.”

Joe blushed and lifted his white dress shirt to cover his face in embarrassment.

Gwilym turned to you and smirked. “Should I tell her that Joe has a cardboard cutout of Ben?”

You eyes floated over to Joe as he continued to stay flustered and quiet. “Is this true Joe…?” you pondered.

Joe tried not to answer for what seemed like an eternity. Soon he pulled the shirt down and replied with a mumbled “Yes.”

“How do you feel about this, Ben?” you felt a little weirded out but you wanted to find out exactly what was going on.

“I feel honored actually,” he laughed. “He only did it because I was never there for them. They were always touring but I had to go, other things to do.”

You looked at him and than your eyes grew slightly worried. “Does that mean that you won’t be here for me?”

The other three turned to look at Ben, all with faces of questioning.

“N-no of course not!!” Ben stuttered. He seemed surprised that he told on himself, even though you already knew.

“Um, (y/n), could I steal you for a second?” Rami asked, breaking the slight tension in the room and taking his chance to get some alone time with you.

“Not on my watch,” Gwil said pushing him to the side as he grabbed his guitar. “Well, you are a big Queen fan, mind if I play something?” he looked at you so earnestly that you decided to nod.

You all started singing Somebody to Love together, each of you pitching in with different verses. You started to feel at home with these boys. Chris Harrison was surprised when he walked back in to see you all together - the guys were generally more possessive over the bachelorette.

“Well, (y/n), it’s the end of the night. It’s time to give the out the first impression rose. Who will it be?”

                                           ..............................

Who do you think made the best first impression, and who would you give the rose to? Vote here: https://doodle.com/poll/3zupusvkkyepfarn

[fanficmoi]

The Fool By The Seaside Chp.9

John was collecting shells, his lovely tail twisting around him joyously. He was humming a nice tune, probably one of Paul’s, and digging in the sand. His hair was long and held back with a diadem decorated with pearls, like the ones mated mermaids wore. John saw nothing unusual about this scene, and he only giggled when a pair of arms wrapped around his waist.

He turned around to face his mate, Paul. The other merman regarded him with a soft smile, his emerald green tail wrapping around John’s.

“Have you found anything?” Paul asked as he caressed the other’s waist.

John smiled and held up a sack, “I have, acushla. Wonder where all the crabs go, leaving their shells behind.”

Paul chuckled, “Well, they died, Johnny! Just like I did.”

John’s smile fell and his head tilted in confusion, “What are you talking about?”

His mate kept on smiling, even as his gills closed and his tail started to fall away. “I died, Johnny. You forced me to love you, you dragged me down with you-” He was turning blue now, his eyes becoming empty. “And I died, I drowned.” The human had his legs back but they were slack and dead beneath him as he sank- “Why did you do it, Johnny? Why did you kill me?”

John held his mate as bubbled came out of his mouth, “No! Paul, I didn’t-I wouldn’t kill you, why-”

Because you are a siren, A familiar voice told him, and a little fish appeared next to him. It was Ridire.

“Ridire, what do you mean? I love him-”

The fish swam next to Paul’s slack face, You put him under your spell, it told him, you seduced and drowned him. You are a siren, it is what your kind do.

John sobbed, “No.”

But it was true, wasn’t it? He was holding his human’s dead body, now slowly starting to float towards the surface.

John chased after him, “No, Paul, NO-”

The merman woke up, his chest shaking and the rest of his body quivering. He felt a wet substance all of him and in the nets, or ‘sheets’ as Paul had called them, around him.

He looked around him in fear, but found himself far away from the ocean, no dead lover or dead friend near him. But there was a strange salty smell in the room, almost as if someone had been there and left an ocean smell behind.

He startled again when he heard a knock on the door.

“‘Ello?” Said a voice, Paul’s friend. “You okay there, mate?”

John didn’t answer, why was the stranger asking him if he was okay? They didn’t know each other.

The door started opening, “Sorry, it’s just I, I heard you scream.” The thin boy entered the chamber, “Did you have a nightmare?” George was hesitant, Paul had had to go home so that his dad didn’t get suspicious, and that meant that George was all alone with this  stranger.

John just looked at him with a tilted head.

The other boy sighed, “I get them too sometimes, nothing wrong with them.” He have John a small smile, trying to push his fear aside.

The siren frowned, “Night-mare?”

George nodded, pleased at getting a reaction. “Yeah, y’know, a bad dream.”

John tilted his head further, “Dreeam?”

The human frowned, “Don’t you know what a dream is?”

The other shook his head.

“It’s, well…” George fumbled for words, “I don’t know how to...They’re visions, right? You’re asleep and you get visions about people or whatever, and sometimes they’re great, but sometimes they’re scary.”

John looked away. Visions...He’d gotten visions before, but had been told that they were unnatural and that it was just his childish imagination. Mimi had been very baffled, when Merrow slept they just slept, no ‘dreams.’ Maybe, John thought, it was another siren thing. Yet another thing to hate.

George took a tentative step closer, “You think you can go back to sleep?”

John looked down in shame and brought his pale legs up to his chest.

The human sighed in pity, if the boy in front of him wasn’t a mermaid he certainly still had gone through some sort of trauma. Then he remembered something Paul had told him about the lad, “You want me to sing you a song?” He shrugged, “I’m not as good a singer a Paul, but I got a guitar.”

John perked up, but then he frowned. Would Paul not feel betrayed if John accepted a song from another human? Then again, singing did not appear to be as significant to humans as it was to Merrows. Shyly, he nodded.

George grinned, “Alright, I’ll be right back.”

And he was indeed, right back. He had a guitar very similar to Paul’s, only it was cleaner. The human sat down in a chair near the bed, not wanting to scare the merman. “I, um, do you want one in particular?” George wondered if John even knew any songs. Luckily, George knew a few of Paul’s, which he knew the other boy had played for their new friend.

John laid down, still curled up, and thought. After a few seconds, he started to hum.

I've just seen a face,

I can't forget the time or place

Where we just met.

She's just the girl for me

And I want all the world to see

We've met, mm-mm-mm-m'mm-mm

The siren stopped and looked at the human.

George was smiling, he knew that song but first, “You have a great voice.”

The siren looked away, he knew he had a great voice. He’d always been proud of it, but now that he knew he had it to lure humans into the sea, it wasn’t something he considered a good thing.

George saw the other’s mood darken and wondered what he’d done wrong, but still he started to strum the guitar.

What John really wanted to hear was the song about walking through life, hand in hand… but that would feel like too much of a betrayal of Paul, that was their special song. Still, this human was very good on the guitar, sounding even more confident than his Paul. And so John was able to find sleep again, but it wasn’t deep enough for ‘dreeam.’

Paul closed the door to George’s house behind him and made sure to lock it. His friend had just left for work at the library, he was going to tell their boss that Paul was unable to go due to a family emergence. Paul felt guilty for missing work yet again, but John was his priority at the moment.

He climbed the stairs in silence, thinking about the incident from last night that George had told him about. He would try and talk to John about his nightmare today, and comfort him if he could. It was in that moment that a loud thump made him jump. It came from Harry’s room, where John was.

He hurried to the door and burst inside, finding his lover on the ground with a thin bookcase on top of him. Books and small trinkets laid all over the shaking siren, who looked up at his human when the door opened.

“Paul!” He said, looking ashamed, “I am sorry, I is trying to get up, the shelf fell, I didn’t mean to-”

“John, it’s okay,” Paul said as he kneeled down and started to move the shelf away. “I know you didn’t mean to.” He helped John sit up, even if the siren probably didn’t need it, and held his delicate, cold hands.

The siren couldn’t help but think of the vision, every kind action of Paul’s would only remind him that they were fake, that the real Paul was somewhere in there fighting to be free from John’s spell.

Paul was oblivious to his lover’s concerns, and sweetly ran a hand through his short hair. All night he’d been thinking about John, good and bad thoughts. The most prominent had been the fact that he was, in fact, a man. Even with legs, their relationship was not something that could be accepted by Paul’s world. He knew this, and still he could not stop himself from caring for John, deeply. Perhaps if Paul were less afraid of what others, like his father, would say, he would even call it love.

As he was thinking, he focused on John’s legs. They were strong, the muscles defined, and they looked very soft to the touch. Paul saw that John was keeping them together, moving them as one, clearly trying to imitate a tail. He forced a smile for his lover, “Hey, how about I draw you a bath?”

John frowned, “Draw?”

Paul laughed, “Wait here for a bit, I’ll be back.” He stood up but then remembered, “Do you want to go back to the bed?”

The siren looked at his legs, they looked strong but they felt incredibly weak, he knew he couldn’t get up on his own. But he didn’t want to appear as weak as he felt in front of Paul, he was enough of a burden already. “No, I will get up on my own.”

Paul could see that John was lying, “Look, John,” He knelt down again, “I know this is difficult for you, it’s okay to ask for help.”

John looked into his human’s eyes. Slowly, they felt themselves falling into a trance. But as soon as he realized this, John was horrified and he back away.

Paul frowned, “John? Are you okay?”

The siren had his eyes tightly closed and he shook his head, “Do not look at me.”

“Why not?” The human got closer, and raised a hand to touch John’s leg. He felt his lover wince, but he just gently rubbed it. “Johnny, what’s wrong?”

John thought of telling Paul about the dream, about how John had cast a spell on him, about how none of it was real. Except that wasn’t true, John’s feelings were real. He...loved Paul, he wanted to be with him. But the idea that Paul’s feelings had been created by him, it was horrifying. And so, selfishly, John decided to stay mute for now. Perhaps the vision was mistaken, maybe Paul did love John for himself, not because he was a siren.

Paul saw that no answer was forthcoming and sighed, he stood up. “Wait here.” He repeated and forced a smile for his lover.

John still had his eyes closed but he nodded, he just hoped that Paul would be back.

John had been unable to get up, so laid next to the fallen book shelf and felt sorry for himself until Paul came back.

He’d been facing away from the door so he jumped when he felt two arms wrap themselves around his knees and back. “Paul?” He asked as he was lifted up.

The human strained his legs to take a step, John was very heavy and Paul had always been on the weak side. Still, he smiled. “Heya, you ready for your surprise?”

Forgetting about his problems for a moment, John opened his eyes and tilted his head, “Surprise?”

Paul smiled as he carried John to the bathroom.

The smile on his lover’s face when he saw the tub full of water was worth the strain on his body. He carefully set John on the toilet seat and chuckled at the adorable pout the other made when he wasn’t put directly on the water.

John frowned at his laughter, “Put me in water, Paul.”

The human nodded, “I will, but erm…” He became embarrassed, “Well, you’re dressed so…” He gestured at the boxers and pajama shirt.

John nodded, and then he started to unbutton the shirt (He’d been playing around with them before) and shrugged it off quickly, desperate to get into the water.

As he saw the siren grab the boxers, Paul panicked, “Wait!” He cried.

John stopped trying to pull them down and frowned, “What?”

Paul didn’t answer. He knew that John had to be naked before getting in the tub, and he also knew that he wouldn’t be able to get in on his own. And Paul had seen john naked before, right after he lost his tail, but it wasn’t dark in the bathroom like it had been on the beach. And John needed a wash! Would he know how to use soap? And how to clean his legs?

John leaned forwards, closer to Paul’s head, and asked, “Are you okay?” The siren made sure not to look directly into Paul’s eyes.

Paul sighed but nodded, “No yeah, sorry. Go ahead.” He averted his eyes with the excuse of looking for the soap. When he turned back he saw an anxious John looking at the water with a longing expression. For a moment Paul was able to ignore the fact that the man was naked and just carried him to the tub.

The moment John touched the water he let out a shuddering breath and moved away from Paul. The tub was very small but John submerged himself in it. Paul gasped as he saw his gills open and grinned excitedly at John when his lover came up again.

Together they waited for a few moments, waiting for John’s tail to manifests. But the minutes passed, and the tail didn’t appear.

John raised himself to the edge of the tub with his arms, “Maybe tail needs space.”

Paul nodded along with a forced smile. Shit, he’d been wrong. He’d been sure that the water would make John’s tail come back.

Meanwhile, John was getting desperate. He started shaking his legs, throwing water over the walls. Then he started to scratch at them with his claws. Paul intervened when he started to draw blood.

“John, Johnny!” He grabbed the other’s (finless) arms to restrain him, “Stop! You’re hurting yourself, luv.”

“Where is it!?” John screamed. He submerged himself again, twisting and turning in the small space.

Paul sat down next to the tub, shaking his head. “I’m sorry, John.” Was all he could say.

John came out of the water, splattering the water all over the place.

He looked so sad that Paul stopped caring about the fact that John was naked and he was still dressed, he got into the tub too and held the siren to his chest. John held onto him, his human legs curled up.

Paul brushed his lover’s hair gently, “I’m sorry, John.” He repeated.

The siren didn’t answer.

John woke up with a gasp. The dream from last night had repeated, except Paul hadn’t been calm and smiling this time. The human’s words haunted him.

WHY DID YOU DO THIS TO ME   SIREN    MONSTER    I HATE YOU   I HATE YOU YOU KILLED ME   WHY WOULD YOU DO THIS TO ME   YOU FORCED ME   YOU DROWNED ME    YOU RUINED ME    MONSTER    SEDUCER    KILLER

John held himself and sobbed. He tried to be quiet so as to not disturb George, who had been upset earlier after seeing the fallen bookshelf and the dirty bathroom.

“Do not cry, young one.” Said a voice in the language of the ocean.

John looked up from his arms and gaped at the sight in front of him.

The woman was beautiful. Her skin was dark, and her fiery red hair shined in the moonlight. She gave him a kind smile. “Hello, John.”

The siren tilted his head, “Who are you? How do you speak the language of the ocean?”

The woman showed him her hands, she had claws, “I am like you, John.”

John looked at her legs, “You’re a siren too.”

“That’s right. I was sent here by the King.”

John moved away, “Why?”

The female siren smiled at him, “Triton had been waiting a long time for you, John. When your mother told us about you, he was elated.”

John gasped, “My, my mother? Julliah?”

She nodded, “Yes. She came to us, brokenhearted, thinking some stranger had stolen you. But it was no stranger, it was your Auntin.”

“She was trying to protect me!” John had to defend Mimi, “Triton wants me as a lover.”

“Is that so terrible, John? He gives us everything, is our service and love so much to ask?” She moved closer.

John scoffed, “Love? More like our bodies. You can’t love him.”

“You’re right,” She said, perplexing John. “Sirens do not love, it’s not our nature.”

John shook his head, “You’re wrong.”

“You’re thinking of that human, aren’t you? Paul Mccartney.”

“I love him.” John declared, forcing confidence. “He is my mate.”

The mermaid looked down, “Oh, John...Surely you have realized by now, you put a spell on the boy.” Seeing John was about to protest she continued, “Oh, you didn’t mean to, I know. But you still did, young one. That’s how we found you, we felt traces of siren magic.”

John felt as if a hammerhead shark had driven its head right into his stomach. “No…” He murmured. No, he didn’t want to be proven right.

“Why else would he risk everything for you? You think a human would love you?” She sighed, “Humans are selfish, dear. Tell me, where are your mother’s stones?”

John gasped and clutched at his neck. Shit, he had completely forgotten about his necklace and belt. Where were they? Had Paul taken them? Why hadn’t John asked before? How had he not noticed them gone?

“So you see, young one. Your human’s instincts beat your spell, even if only for a moment. How long before he takes something more valuable?” She sat next to him, “A claw? A fang?” Her hand touched his cheek, looking into his miserable eyes. “A tear?”

John growled, his teeth barred, and jumped off the bed. His legs were still pretty weak but he used them to push himself into the wall opposite the bed. “Paul would never.”

The other siren sighed, “I can see there is no changing your mind today, John.” She stood up, “But know that you will be hurt by this choice, and your human will be too.”

He hissed as she got closer, and she stopped, her eyes widening at what she saw in his. They had turned golden if only for a moment. She shook her head, it must have been a trick of the light, only King Triton had golden eyes, he got them from Their Lord, Poseidon.

Slowly, she extended a hand. She was holding a bottle with a message inside it. “Here, your mother wanted you to have this.”

John said nothing but his heart leaped. He had met his mother once before, in a way. She had gone to Mimi’s house and he had been told to hide. He didn’t understand but his Uncail had sounded upset so John had obeyed. He had loved looking upon his mother, she had beautiful hair. She had left the hairnet turned necklace & belt then, gave them to Mimi who had then gifted them to John. The siren had wanted to speak to his mother, and now he knew why he couldn’t.

He took the offered bottle and then moved away again with another hiss. He had had enough of this mermaid, she was just trying to get him to go to Triton. But he trusted Mimi over her, he knew that Triton was not the saint the siren was trying to sell him.

She smiled at him one last time and then grabbed at her silver necklace, though it looked more like a collar really. She disappeared, leaving a salty, wet smell behind.

He looked at the bottle in his hand then proceeded to cut the glass with a sharp nail. He grabbed the sheet inside and opened it.

My beautiful John,

All these years I have mourned for you, my darling. I thought you lost to the ocean, being held prisoner by some horrible creature. If only I’d known that the horrible creature had been my Deirfiúr all along. You must know that I would have come for you, John. I’ve been living in the palace all this time, it truly is wonderful. How I wish you could join me now.

You need not be afraid of His Majesty. King Triton is a strong commander and a gentle lover I’m certain. As the only male siren, you would become his favourite in an instant. I hope you consider this, my love. We could live together, you and I. It would be a rich life, with no worries or troubles. I doubt His Majesty would make you join his legion, your kind are too precious to risk in battle. There’s pretty of female sirens here to be warriors.

I wish to know you, John. I can’t follow to where you’ve run off to, but you can come to me. Please do so, I love you.

With hope,

Your mother, Julliah.

John put the letter next to him, feeling queasy. How could his mother write about him like that? Like he was a possession, already owned by Triton. Her mind had been poisoned by the king, he was sure. If his mother loved him, she would insist on him being away from Atlantis. Like Mimi.

Mimi who was now in prison for treason. Because of him. If John were to turn himself in, would she be released? Would he be allowed to see her? The truth was, he wanted to see her right now, not his mam.

All his life he had missed, but now that he had seen her thoughts, he was disappointed.

[arconn]

I remember how much I used to do these in high school/my early 20s, I wish I could do an old one and compare responses. Here's one for today, 06/21/21

1) Sexuality? Pansexual, meaning I don't have a preference of what you're working with and I don't exclude those who identify as nonbinary/agender.

2) If you could meet anyone on this earth, who would it be? Russel Crowe

3) Grab the book nearest to you, turn to page 23, give me line 17. with a stock of white, forearms tattooed in black Borean ink- the black dragon that marks him as an outsider. - Witches of America by Alex Mar

4) What do you think about most? That people want to be good and be happy but also very much have the opportunity to cause the opposite

5) What does your latest text message from someone else say? Hope you have today off...

6) Do you sleep with or without clothes on? Usually with but it depends on what time of year it is

7) What’s your strangest talent? Being able to guess poeple's zodiac signs pretty accurately.

8) Girls…. (finish the sentence); Boys…. (finish the sentence) should be treated the same

9) Ever had a poem or song written about you? Yes

10) When is the last time you played the air guitar? I don't even remember honestly.

11) Do you have any strange phobias? Preying mantasis, they absolutely terrify me and are bore deep into my psyche

12) Ever stuck a foreign object up your nose? Yes

13) What’s your religion? I identify as an omniest, meaning I find truth and beauty in all religions and also as a pagan witch- a woman who loves and respects the earth, her elements and the way it effects us. I read tarot and look for divine guidance primarily from a central collective consciousness/energy and divinity that is in us all.

14) If you are outside, what are you most likely doing? Hooping, going on a walk

15) Do you prefer to be behind the camera or in front of it? Behind

16) Simple but extremely complex. Favorite band? Like a whole band with instruments and multiple musicians? Either Born of Osiris of August Burns Red

17) What was the last lie you told? That I was okay when I wasn't

18) Do you believe in karma? Absofreakinglutely

19) What does your URL mean? That I'm one tough bitch ;)

20) What is your greatest weakness; your greatest strength? My quickness to trust someone and be vulnerable and shutting myself off or down when I realize I shouldn't have. And loving other people and things, when I'm at my best I aspire to emulate loving goddess energy and make others feel safe and seen.

21) Who is your celebrity crush? I honestly am not a big fan of most celebrities

22) Have you ever gone skinny dipping? Honestly, no.

23) How do you vent your anger? Usually to a friend or through hooping

24) Do you have a collection of anything? Crystals, metaphysical books, tarot decks.

25) Do you prefer talking on the phone or video chatting online? Through messenger

26) Are you happy with the person you’ve become? Yes, though there is a lot I am still working hard on.

27) What’s a sound you hate; sound you love? The sound of people chewing or brushing their teeth and I love the sound of deep low frequency bass and my bunny Winston "purring"

28) What’s your biggest “what if”? What if a certain relationship worked out and I hadn't left and we stayed together

29) Do you believe in ghosts? How about aliens? I believe in the possibility of everything but also that anything can be debunked. I say yes to both.

30) Stick your right arm out; what do you touch first? Do the same with your left arm. Left- my phone, right-a bag of cashews :)

31) Smell the air. What do you smell? A candle burning nearby.

32) What’s the worst place you have ever been to? Probably the part of Bahrain we got dumped in while waiting for our ship. Of course, at the time I had never been to or lived in Philly or Baltimore, but it was a lot and was absolutely not safe.

33) Choose East Coast or West Coast? East coast, but I haven't been to the west coast yet.

34) Most attractive singer of your opposite gender? Anderson Paak *heart eyes* thats my BAYBEEEEE

35) To you, what is the meaning of life? See #13

36) Define Art. Expression

37) Do you believe in luck? I believe in divine blessing

38) What’s the weather like right now? Absolutely beautiful and 70 something outside

39) What time is it? 2:51

40) Do you drive? If so, have you ever crashed? Yes, though I don't have a car right now. And no I haven't, only been rear ended once.

41) What was the last book you read? Been reading Witches of America by Alex Mar lately as well as some study astrology material.

42) Do you like the smell of gasoline? Love it.

43) Do you have any nicknames? Mana

44) What was the last movie you saw? The Conjuring: The Devil Made Me Do It... it was absolutely amazing

45) What’s the worst injury you’ve ever had? Dislocating my knee, it went all the way to the backside of my leg!!

46) Have you ever caught a butterfly? Oh yes

47) Do you have any obsessions right now? Learning my job and getting better at it, smoking weed, getting these next couple milestones together that are coming up.

48) What’s your sexual orientation? Pansexual, see #1 for an explanation

49) Ever had a rumor spread about you? Oh yes

50) Do you believe in magic? Definitely

51) Do you tend to hold grudges against people who have done you wrong? Nah, I wish I could sometimes, but I'm actually pretty bad at it, to my own demise.

52) What is your astrological sign? Aquarius sun, Scorpio moon, Capricorn rising

53) Do you save money or spend it? Spend it. UGH.

54) What’s the last thing you purchased? A smoothie

55) Love or lust? Love

56) In a relationship? Not currently, no.

57) How many relationships have you had? I don't even know anymore... that would be a lot to count out.

58) Can you touch your nose with your tongue? Yes

59) Where were you yesterday? Work and then home and in my bed sleeping for almost 13 hours.

60) Is there anything pink within 10 feet of you? Yes, a hula hoop

61) Are you wearing socks right now? Nope

62) What’s your favorite animal? Rabbits and octopus

63) What is your secret weapon to get someone to like you? Look at them very intently with my eyes and show genuine care/focus on them

64) Where is your best friend? I don't really have a best friend right now, my closest is in Maryland right now, but I haven't seen her in over a year.

65) Spit or swallow?(; Always swallow

66) What is your heritage? Irish/Scottish

67) What were you doing last night at 12 AM? DEAD ASLEEP

68) What do you think is Satan’s last name? Gon'getcha

69) Be honest. Ever gotten yourself off? What kinda question is this? Duh. Society is so weird about sexuality it's kind of gross. *shudders*

70) Are you the kind of friend you would want to have as a friend? Yeah!

71) You are walking down the street on your way to work. There is a dog drowning in the canal on the side of the street. Your boss has told you if you are late one more time you get fired. What do you do? Yell for help, save the dog. Take pictures once the rescue is a success and try and explain it to my boss, if they let me go, they let me go.

72) You are at the doctor’s office and she has just informed you that you have approximately one month to live. a) Do you tell anyone/everyone you are going to die? b) What do you do with your remaining days? c) Would you be afraid? I tell everyone I care about, yes. I would spend the rest of my time with my family and saying goodbye to certain friends. I'd try to fit in as much live music as humanly possible as well and maybe take a few days trip abroad, probably somewhere where I could be on the beach.

73) You can only have one of these things; trust or love. Love, because if it's true, you get both

74) What’s a song that always makes you happy when you hear it? Touch by Hybrid Minds

75) What are the last four digits in your cell phone number? 1***

76) In your opinion, what makes a great relationship? Trust, over communication, taking time for the cute and little things

77) How can I win your heart? ^

78) Can insanity bring on more creativity? Absolutely

79) What is the single best decision you have made in your life so far? Letting things go in order to gain

80) What size shoes do you wear? 8 1/2 or 9

81) What would you want to be written on your tombstone? EVERYBODY LOVE EVERYBODY! C'MON! -WILL FERREL

82) What is your favorite word? Fuck

83) Give me the first thing that comes to mind when you hear the word; heart. Swell

84) What is a saying you say a lot? "The road to suffering is paved with expectations" -The Buddha

85) What’s the last song you listened to? Loan Shark by Commodo

86) Basic question; what’s your favorite color/colors? Lavendar, royal blue, deep purple, light magenta, neon red, burnt orange

87) What is your current desktop picture? $uicideboy$

88) If you could press a button and make anyone in the world instantaneously explode, who would it be? Oh boy, I don't think I'd want that to happen to anyone because they could be with other people like their family and shit. That would be so horrible.

89) What would be a question you’d be afraid to tell the truth on? Haven't found one yet.

90) One night you wake up because you heard a noise. You turn on the light to find that you are surrounded by MUMMIES. The mummies aren’t really doing anything, they’re just standing around your bed. What do you do? Slowly look around and see if I can find a weapon, then quickly get to it and make a quick exit, defending myself from the mummies if need be.

91) You accidentally eat some radioactive vegetables. They were good, and what’s even cooler is that they endow you with the super-power of your choice! What is that power? It's a tie between teleporation and being able to heal others/myself.

92) You can re-live any point of time in your life. The time-span can only be a half-hour, though. What half-hour of your past would you like to experience again? My wedding day.

93) You can erase any horrible experience from your past. What will it be? Early memories in the barracks at Fort Meade

94) You have the opportunity to sleep with the music-celebrity of your choice. Who would it be? Al Ross or $crim

95) You just got a free plane ticket to anywhere. You have to depart right now. Where are you gonna go? India

96) Do you have any relatives in jail? Not that I know of

97) Have you ever thrown up in the car? Yup, but it was into a bag every time

98) Ever been on a plane? Many times

99) If the whole world were listening to you right now, what would you say? EVERYBODY LOVE EVERYBODY, c'MON!

[bettys-babes]

best part // jughead jones

a jughead jones imagine.

written by: ace

summary: Y/N writes quite a bit but is disheartened when Jughead critics her songwriting skills, not knowing it was her.

playlist! (but i recommend Best Part by Daniel Caesar for this one x)

masterlist!

Squatting on her chair, she aggressively nibbles on the pencil eraser, accidentally bitting off the whole thing. 

Her face grows in disgust, spitting it out but missing the trash can. She hops off the chair, almost losing balance but regaining it quickly. 

Her eyes gaze over a memo note from someone as she walks over to pick up the bitten eraser. 

She grins in glee at the thought. 

The thought of the memo, not the eraser. 

"A writer should have this little voice inside of you saying, Tell the truth. Reveal a few secrets here." The little faded pastel yellow memo read.

Jughead didn't know Y/N's crush was on him, he only knew she liked someone.

Her nights stretched out to become longer— even reaching sunrise— 'cause all she wanted to prioritize was a song. 

She was writing a melody. A song where she can express her emotions to him.

She adored writing music, it was something that relieved her stress. 

The daylight after, Y/N chased Archie down the hallway just to ask him for his opinion. "A-Archie, h-h-he-he—" She groans exhaustedly, placing her hands on her knees whilst bending. 

His eyebrow raises up, "Hey, what's wrong?" 

"I ch-cha-sed you here 'c-aus-e I need h-he-help." She struggles to get out, still regaining her breath.

Her eye bags that were created in the span of a week were fully visible in the morning after. She felt pretty lightheaded right after that small chase. 

"With...?" Archie with his eyebrow still raised, does a continuing gesture but concerned about her appearance. 

"I-I'm going to confess." She manages to sigh out fully, repositioning to a straighter posture. 

His eyes widen at the brave action she wanted to do, "Shit, how do you plan on confessing?" 

She giddily smiles, raising the torn up folder she held and pointing the guitar strapped on her back. 

She tilts her head to the side, "Can we go to the music room?" 

He nods back with the same amount of excitement she has, somewhat running but not really to the music room.

Y/N hands him a last-minute sloppily written copy of the song she wrote. 

She gently lifts her guitar from its case, her fingers running to strum the strings.

She sucks in air, releasing a shaky breath before starting, "You don't know babe. When you hold me and kiss me slowly, it's the the sweetest thing and it don't change." 

"If I had it my way, you would know that you are," 

"You're the coffee that I need in the morning, you're my sunshine in the rain when its pouring."

"Won't you give yourself to me, give it to me all."

"I just wanna see how beautiful you are, you know that I see it. I know you're a star. Where you go I follow, no matter how far."

"If life is a movie, oh you're the best part." She smiles down at her instrument, continuing the following chords to be played.

"You're the one that I desire, when we wake up,"

"You're my water when I'm stuck in the desert, you're the Tylenol I take when my head hurts. You're my sunshine." 

"If life is a movie, oh you're the best part." Archie's voice fades as he reads the lyrics to Jughead. 

Jughead's unreadable expression, his eyes staring down at the table, making Archie fiddle of the sides of the paper. 

Jug bites the inside of his cheek, then facing his best friend, "Its too cliché."

"You don't like it?" Archie interrogates him, feeling upset that Y/N's efforts had gone down the drain. "I don't know. It's so typical. ‘If life is a movie, you're the best part’? I mean, thanks or whatever but it isn't enough to woo me." He leaned back towards the couch at Pop's, criticizing the songwriting of a person he has no clue wrote.

She sat at the very front, being left unnoticed since it wasn't too packed but it had a couple of kids hanging around in the booths. 

She heard it from beginning to end, deciding that her song was indeed, too cheesy.

Y/N's emotions abandoned her mind. She felt numbness overtake her body.

She quickly stands to leave with a paper bag of greasy goodness and an ice cold cup serving of a vanilla milkshake in her hands, her guitar now securely mounted on her back. 

Rushing home, her tears flew back behind her almost like leaving a trail of droplets.

She lied on her bed, writing and revamping on where she thought she went wrong. 

Y/N stayed up until daylight to figure out what he didn't like, she couldn't be insulted because it was Jughead.

If he told her to wreak and burn her guitar, she'd do it without hesitating. That's how much she's dedicate her personal things for him.

Dragging her feet down the hallway, gripping the strap of her case and gripping yet another folder in her other hand. 

She heads towards the Blue & Gold room to finally say what she wants to.

Peeping through the window, it was a sight she didn't want to see. 

Elizabeth Cooper with Forsythe Pendleton III's lips attached to one another as if they were stitched together. 

Y/N moped and struggled to breathe in the comfort of her own space. 

Her fingers danced on her phone screen to type a number she’s known for years, someone who can do anything for shits and giggles, someone you can talk to until midnight.

((musical cutie)): hey keller, you up?

Read at 9:27 P.M. 

sir keller: yeah, i am. what's up?

Read at 9:30 P.M. 

((musical cutie)): betty and jughead are a thing, apparently

Read at 9:30 P.M. 

sir keller: wtf? i thought you confessed??

Read at 9:31 P.M.

((musical cutie)): *was going to confess but jughead heard the song from archie and he said it was too clicje 

*cluche 

9:31 P.M. 

**CLICHE

Read at 9:32 P.M.

sir keller: i swear that boy will be dead once i see him 

Read at 9:33 P.M.

((musical cutie)): and i saw him kissing betty so

Read at 9:33 P.M. 

sir keller: need me to come over?

Read at 9:34 P.M. 

((musical cutie)): thank you, i wanted u to but its too late 

n if its alright, can it just be the both of us on a table tmrrw?

Read at 9:35 P.M. 

sir keller: anytime boo xx

Read at 9:36 P.M.

((musical cutie)): anyways, thank u sm ilysm

Read at 9:49 P.M. 

sir keller: ilyt see u tmrrw xx

Read at 9:50 P.M. 

Y/N lets out an exhausted groan, tossing her phone onto the carpeted ground. 

She hated crying. She said to herself that it was a sign of weakness, a sign of defeat. 

But she couldn't help and let stream of her salty tears drip on her pillows. 

Her fingers find their way to her hair, gripping and tugging on the ends. 

One last run of her hand through her hair, she turns on her side to face out the window. 

Rain drops tap against the pained glass. The wind whistled causing the trees to sway.

'Hopefully tomorrow will be better.' Y/N hoped and wished, not letting negative things fill her mind. 

[thing-you-do-with-that-thing]

Old Flames, New Sparks - Part 5: Sparks

Characters: Y/N Y/L/N, Jensen Ackles, mentioned: Danneel Harris, Genevieve Padalecki, Jared Padalecki, Keith (omc).

Pairing: Danneel x Jensen, Danneel x Reader, Jensen x Reader

Warnings: Not much, but angst at the end. I will fix it soon I promise!   

Word Count: 3100ish

A/N: This chapter was hard as hell to get right. I hope it came across the way I wanted to convey their relationship. Poly is hard!!

I used the songs Mine Would Be You by Blake Shelton and Setting the World on Fire by Kenny Chesney feat Pink (Pretend Y/N wrote this last one please)  

This series is written for my free square in @spnpolybingo

Thanks to my amazing lil sis @mysupernaturalfics for betaing this series for me.

MASTERLIST

The next couple of days with Danneel was magical. It was like the two of you were in your own little bubble where nothing but each other mattered. You had dreaded Jensen returning home on hiatus, but Danneel had been right. Jensen was as relaxed and sweet around you as ever. He gave you and Danneel your space, like you tried to do for them. Oddly enough you didn’t feel jealous when she was with him. You didn’t particularly wanna watch them being all cuddly and affectionate, but it wasn’t jealousy. It was a nagging feeling that your days with her was coming to an end soon. There was no way she was going to chose you over her perfect fiance. Danneel and Jensen were getting married and there was nothing you could do to prevent that. What freaked you out the most was you also didn’t want too. As much as seeing them together made the pit in your stomach grow, it also made you happy. Seeing the light in their eyes and the way they looked at each other made you smile, even if the looks weren’t meant for you.

But then the days were up and Danneel had to leave for the set of The Break-Up Plan and you were left the Ackles’ huge house alone with Jensen. For some reason as kind and sweet as he was that unsettled you. You pulled the same trick you had done with Danneel. You stayed at the studio late only home to eat and sleep. If barely even that. Jensen seemed hurt by your behavior, but he didn’t say anything. You saw it in his eyes though when you said your goodbyes each morning. The wounded animal look, that cut deeper into your heart that any knife without you even knowing why. He was engaged to the woman you loved. You should hate him, but you didn’t. You liked him, maybe even more than you were willing or able to admit to yourself. Hurting him pained you deeply, but the truth was you just didn’t know how to be around him without Danneel being there too. Definitely not knowing, he was aware of everything that had happened between you and his fiance.

You had managed to not spend more than a few minutes around Jensen every day right up until your stupid, damn car decided to break down on your way to the studio. For the couple of months you had spent in Austin you still didn’t know a lot of people, so when you had finally managed to get your car towed to the auto shop, you felt completely lost when they told you it would be a day or two before you could get it back. You thought about calling Gen, before you realized Jared had swooped her away to the Alps this week. You groaned slowly coming to terms with your only option. You had to call Jensen. The concern in his voice had been evident when he picked up the phone. He wasn’t used to you calling him for anything, but he also didn’t hesitate in letting you know he would be right there to pick you up and bring you to where ever you needed to go. Which of course only made you feel even lousier about the way you had been treating him lately.

The silence in his car had been less than comfortable and yet you still wished for it back when Jensen finally spoke up.

“You don’t like me much do you Y/N?” he spoke barely above a whispered and you could tell he already thought he knew the answer. You felt the tears press against your eyes as you stared at the man next to you. The kindest, sweetest man you had ever met.The man you were sure you could have fallen head over heels in love with had the circumstances been different. Actually some small part of you weren’t sure that you hadn’t even if you would never admit that to yourself either and now here he was; thinking that you hated him. How could you hate him with the kindness he had shown you? With the affection he looked at Danneel with or the time he had so generously offered the two of you? With how protective he seemed to be of you or how he smiled looking at you when he thought you weren’t looking?

“I don’t hate you Jensen,” you spoke barely above a whisper, but he heard your, taking his eyes off the road for a second, looking at you in surprise. It was as if a spark was lit the second your eyes met and you were no longer able to deny the connection between the two of you. A connection you could no longer tie to Danneel. She wasn’t here and you still felt it. “It’s just not easy….” your words trailed out and you looked away, but to without seeing the small smile playing on his lips.

“We could just pretend I don’t know, you know?” he offered, but he quickly took back his words when he saw you flinch. “Yeah that won’t make it better huh? Well then we can just pretend it didn’t happen? Just for today. Let’s just be friends? I have been dying to see your studio you know?” Jensen offered, sending you that charming boyish smile of his that never failed to make you weak in the knees, as he pulled up infront of your second home. You were sure you blushed a little but if you did he didn’t call you out on it. He just calmly turned to face you and you could see the plea in his eyes but he wasn’t pushing. He never pushed. He was always so perfect, which making turning him away impossible.

“Fine,” you couldn’t help but laugh when you saw the excitement on his face, “but no touching anything. It’s just me today. I just wanted to record something for the guys to work on when they get back monday,” you explained and Jensen nodded, rushing out of the car to open your door for you.

“I’ll behave. You won’t even know I am there,” he said and you were sure he didn’t mean to make it lie, but Jensen in your recording studio was kinda like letting a 5 year old loose in a candy store. He was asking questions and trying out different instruments making you laugh. You were relaxed in his company and you had no idea what you had been so worried about before. Danneel not being around didn’t change who he was with you. He hadn’t been putting on a show for his fiance, not that you ever thought that, but you now realized part of you had feared he wouldn’t be as okay with everything as he seemed.

You were still chuckling a little by his excitement when you left him on his own for a while as you went, to set everything up. You had written a new song last night. A duet and you needed to record it for your producer to start looking for male singers for you. You had no idea where the song at come from. You hated all the trouble duets brought with them. The mixing and matching and the giving up control of your vision, because the voice wanted just couldn’t be found. You let out a small sigh as you work on getting the mics ready and you quickly grabbed a guitar playing the song, before moving to the keyboard lying down a drum beat to give you something to work off. You had no idea how long you had been in there working when you finally remembered you weren’t alone. You swore at your own selfishness as you went to check on Jensen. You should have let him know he could just have headed home and you’d call him when you needed a pick up.

You stopped in your tracks when you made it out of the booth. The sound of a guitar and a soft voice playing one of your favorite Blake Shelton song came from the small kitchen in the back of the studio. You slowly moved towards it as a magnet drawn to it’s center. You stopped just out of sight, mesmerized by his voice. Jensen was singing softly and with his eyes closed, his fingers moving effortlessly over the strings of the guitar and you felt the tears press against your eyes. He sang with so much emotion, you had no doubt in your mind who he was thinking of in that moment.

What’s the greatest chapter in your book?

Are there pages where it hurts to look?

What’s the one regret you can’t work through?

You got it baby, mine would be you

Yeah you got it baby, mine would be you

Mine would be you

Taillights fading

Daylight breaking

Standing there like a fool

When I should’ve been running

Yellin’ out something

To make you wanna hold on to

The best love ever

Girl, can you tell me

The one thing you’d rather die than lose?

Cause mine would be you

Mine would be you, you

Jensen opened his eyes and you could see the shock on his face when he saw you. He quickly put down the guitar and a deep blush settled in his cheeks, as he ran his hand around the back of his neck shyly looking down.

“Wow,” you said, wanting to kick yourself. That was the best you could come up with? “You should sing that song too her,” you smiled. Yeah that wasn’t better.

“To who?” Jensen looked up a little confused, but your mind was already going a million miles per hour. His voice was exactly right. It was just what you had wanted for the song and you were already trying to convince him in your mind.

“Danneel,” you answered quickly sitting down in front of him, speaking before he had a chance to answer. “Listen this song I needed to record. It’s a duet and your voice would be perfect for it.”

Jensen’s eyes widened in surprise and he instantly shook his head a little, “sweetheart I am flattered, but I am an actor. Not a singer.”

You smiled, knowing he wasn’t just going to agree with you. As confident as he seemed he was also a shy person. “Lots of actors sing too Jensen. Lots of actors get autotuned just because they want to make it as singers as well. You got a talent. I won’t need to fix your voice. You’re perfect for this song and I think our voices would be a great match,” you pushed gently and a small smile finally appeared on his lips.

“Yeah? You think?” he asked, and you tried to ignore the butterflies in your stomach. The sudden urge to lean in and kiss him, slightly terrified you, but you didn’t have time to be bothered with that right now. You couldn’t back off now if you wanted him to do this with you.

“I do. Please? At least listen to the song?” You got back on your feet reaching out your hand to him. Sparks of electricity coursed through your body when he took it with a smile and you couldn’t help holding your breath for a second wondering if he felt it too.

“Okay,” you just stood there staring at him, slightly embarrassed when he chuckled waving his hand at you, “lead the way, sweetheart.”

You took a deep breath, before nodding. “Okay.” You let go of his hand rushing to find your lyrics in your back. You grabbed a pen, making what you wanted him to sing, handing him the sheet, before pushing play on the track you had laid a few minutes earlier. You stood restless, chewing on your bottom lip and playing with the edge of your shirt as you watched him. Reading and listening. Your anxiety only grew when he took a step forward, hitting replay when the song was over. He repeated the action at the end of the song a few times and as much as you wanted to punch him for not speaking a work you let him. He was in a zone, which you recognized from yourself. You didn’t want to interrupt whatever he was thinking. You just hoped this meaned he at the very least was considering the possibility of doing this with you.

“I love it,” Jensen finally spoke as the song ended for the 4th time and you realized a shaky breath.

“Really?” you stared at him, restraining yourself for jumping into his arms, squealing with joy. Your music was important to you. It always had been but for some reason his opinion meant even more than any critic you had ever encountered. His approval almost made you wanna cry. “Does this mean you’ll do it?” you asked carefully and Jensen threw his head back in laughter.

You were both smiling when your eyes met again, “you’re not gonna stop bugging me until I do it are you?” he asked making you giggle.

“Nope,” you said with a mischievous glimmer in your eye which was mirrored in Jensen’s sparkling green ones.

“I’ll try. Just… if it comes out horrible you don’t have to use it okay?” he said but you could see the real meaning behind his words and you smiled, taking his hand giving it a small reassuring squeeze.

“No one but us will ever know less you give me the green light to use it. You got the final say in everything from here on in. I promise,” you spoke softly and Jensen smiled shyly, nodding.

“Let’s do this then.”

After trying to record Jensen’s vocal’s a few times you decided to change your approach. He was shakingly nervous standing in that booth on his own. You hated seeing him like that and even more you hated doing this to him, but you also knew that he could. He just needed to realize that himself. You set everything up again before walking into the booth, you saw the look on his face. The look that told you he was sorry. The look that told you he regretted to ever doing this. The look that made you rush across the room and take both his hands in yours.

“Jay, there’s no one here but you and me. Just pretend that thing isn’t recording. Just sing it with me,” you spoke softly and your heart skipped a beat with the small smile on his lips.

“Okay,” he answered you with a nod, just as the music started up again and you smiled squeezing his hands before letting them go, but your eyes never left his. He was looking at you like there was no one else in the world but the two of you and for as long as the song lasted you didn’t feel like there was either.  

Yeah we got drunk on La Cienega Boulevard

Takin’ pictures of people we thought were stars

It’s easy to give in to your heart  

Jensen started singing and everything around you faded away. You knew that he felt it too, because all his nerves were gone. He was smiling as the words fell easily from his lips. The same intensity of emotion present in his voice as you had witness when he sang Mine Would be You earlier.

When you’re drunk on La Cienega Boulevard

When the song comin’ out of the speakers

Was the band that you had on your t-shirt

We were screamin’ cause all the streets were empty

And you kissed me, and we were…

You let go just like he did. You sang only for him and you smiled with how well your vocals matched, complimenting each other.  

You smiled as you sang the chorus, feeling high on the pride in his eyes as he watched you. He had you feel special in a way, you couldn’t remember anyone ever had before. With Danneel you felt loved and accepted but this was different. Jensen looked at you as if he didn’t only see you for who you were. He saw you for everything that you could be. His eyes were filled with love and the rush of the song made you forget everything as you moved a little closer.

When you’re drunk on La Cienega Boulevard

When the song comin’ out of the speakers

Was the band that you had on your t-shirt

We were screamin’ cause all the streets were empty

And you kissed me, and we were…

You weren’t sure when he had wrapped his arms around you, but it felt right. You staying in his arms singing to him and he to you. Nothing else in that moment mattered, but him. His shining emerald eyes and the warmth of his embrace. You were completely lost in him. So lost you didn’t fight it when his lips pressed against your with the last notes of the song. Instead you wrapped your arms around his neck allowing him to deepen the kiss, getting lost in him. You were flying high when you broke apart, still smiling as brightly as he was, right up until the second the image of Danneel entered your mind. The smile fell from your face and your hand flew to your lips as you pulled back.

The hurt on his face as he reached out to you, paling in comparison to the flood of emotions crashing down on you. You had kissed your best friend’s fiance. You had hurt the only person that had ever been there for you. You were to completely screwed up that you had not only fallen in love with her but the man that she was going to marry as well. You didn’t hear a word coming out of his mouth. You were too lost in your own thoughts and you could barely breath. You needed to get away. From him. From Danneel. You were only ever going to hurt everyone you ever cared about. Keith had been right. You were selfish and flimsy. You deserved everything bad that had ever happened to you in your life and when two people reached out to you, trying to help you. You had repaid them by wrecking their relationship. You twirled around ignoring Jensen’s calls for your name, running out of the studio. By some miracle you managed to hail a cab, before Jensen could reach you. This was it. You had to leave, you weren’t sure where you would go but you couldn’t stay. You could only hope Jensen and Danneel could find a way to get through everything you had put them through if you never showed yourself in their lives every again.

Old Flames, New Sparks 

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