#now i just need a wall mount for my guitar so i can free up some floor space

[two-calicos-in-a-trenchcoat]

Finally got my ukulele mounted to the wall

[eddies-weirdo]

First Meeting (Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader)

Summary: This is just a cutesy meeting of my reader and Eddie to get me back into writing. Just some fluff.

"You need a record player or something in here." You look up from your comic and meet the warm brown eyes of Eddie staring at you. "What?" "It's too quiet in here, it needs some Twisted Sister." You laugh and stand up to look him in the eyes. "Well it's a comic book store and people are trying to read" you say smiling. He looks behind himself and back at you, motioning to the empty store. You sigh "Did you need something Eddie?" He tries to look insulted and it makes you smile. "Well I was trying to make a suggestion." He places his hands on his hips tries to copy your stance behind the counter. Eddie was in your class in high school but while you graduated he was held back. You knew him in passing but had never really talked to him because you assumed he would rather talk to prettier girls. He glanced down at your Scorpions shirt you had taken from your dad "You like metal?". You stand up proudly "Yep, I actually think my taste in music could be as good as yours." You go over to the door and flip the sign around to closed. Eddie watched you walk to the door and couldn't help but stare at how your bell bottoms fit you and noticed that you were barefoot. Heh, so she's a hobbit he thought to himself. You grab his hand and drag him upstairs to your apartment above the store. "Are you kidnapping me y/n?" He says jokingly. You stop and face him with the most serious expression you can muster in the moment. "I read Batman and Judge Dredd, if I was kidnapping you you'd know." You stare at each other for a minute before you both start laughing. You lead him upstairs and into your living room where you had your tape player and record player in the floor with your vinyls and box of tapes strewn around. You pick up your box of tapes and place them on the trunk that you use for a coffee table you turn to him and say "Help yourself, I'll be right back." As you disappear into your kitchen, he stands awkwardly and looks around. You'd painted the living room walls a dark viridian green one night in celebration of making the place your own. He looked over your old tan couch and at your various kitschy knick knacks before his eyes rested on a bass guitar you had mounted on the wall. He lightly touched the strings and smiled, there was a lot more to you than he'd realized. He made his way to the couch and looked through the box of tapes Blondie, Poison, Fleetwood Mac, the Mamas and the Papas, Motley Crew. He heard you say from the kitchen "You're welcome to borrow anything you like, just bring it back please." You come out with a pitcher of lemonade and two glasses and sit next to him. Over the next few hours the two of you play tapes and discuss the bands the two of your love and hate. Eddie couldn't help but smile when you got passionate about how important a good bass track is. "Are you doing anything tomorrow night? You should come see my band play. We're terrible." You laugh "If you're terrible why would I come watch you?" He grinned and put an arm around you "Because i know you wanna see this handsome face again." You could feel your cheeks blush and a few butterflies in your stomach. He notices your cheeks and laughs "You're so cute when you get flustered, I'll have to make it happen more often." You look away quickly embarrassed. He places his hand on the side of your face and gets you to meet his gaze again. You see his eyes studying your face and are to nervous to say anything. "Oh so now you're speechless" he says with a chuckle. You feel his thumb graze your cheek before he removes his hand quickly. "Sorry, I didn't mean to make you feel uncomfortable." He quickly picks two tapes from the top of the box, kisses you on the cheek, and stands up running his free hand through his messy hair with a grin. "So is that a yes to me seeing you tomorrow?"

I'm working a bigger series with these two and wanted to make a one shot to get back into writing.

[via-whitmore]

Fic: you’re too intact (Giles/Ethan PWP)

Oneshot for the @buffyversegiftexchange and @ Aspasiathebloody

CONTENT WARNINGS: Consensual breathplay/choking, powerplay, nonconsensual voyeurism, magically infused sex

Read on AO3 

The truth of it was Ripper was never cut out for glam. By the time Bowie killed Ziggy, he was grateful the sequins and feathers were drifting to the stadium floor in spotlight and fading smoke. Ziggy was the beacon out of the dark of archives, tea rooms, and graveyards but he had no desire to start dressing like a peacock and learning to apply lip liner. He believed his mask  was more subtle. The working class hard knocks dropout was easier to live in until he could forget everything they’d wanted him to be. So what if his parents hadn’t run a grocery? When he said anarchy he saw the Council building going up like Guy Fawkes day. He had his tower to pull down, same as any of the born East Ender. The death he’d seen would wake these alley brawlers screaming in the night. He deserved London. He deserved punk.

Ethan, on the other hand, would not let glam die even if he had to keep it alive single handedly under his own skin. Ethan taught Ripper much of this--the deserving. Ethan had the ability, with magic or without, to be so a part of London that he could wear its shadows like a skin while simultaneously being a bonfire in the gray rain. He wore the safety pinned leather jacket and the pink boa and lipstick. This was not always good for his safety. And much of their gang’s lives were taken up with cracking skulls over Ethan’s appearance. But he taught Ripper about dancing on the line between wanting to disappear and demanding to be heard. It was Ethan who stole Ripper his second guitar and their record player. It was Ethan who suggested Ripper sing lead vocal while he took the role of mosh pit disciple.

Now here they were. There was no place to fuck in the one room squat they were calling a flat unless all six of them were doing it together. Nominally, nebulously, the lines broke down into Deidre and Tommy, Randall and Phillip. Now, Ripper supposed, he and Ethan. One or the other had decided they wanted to fuck alone together. Ripper couldn’t remember who’d set his eyes on whom amidst the tangle of limbs and made the decision. He would never be able to even after it all turned to ash. They might still get pulled in on public indecency but this was the first year sodomy itself wouldn’t get them arrested. At least on paper. 

“Someday we will all be free,” Ethan had said, tone flippant but eyes shining. 

It was the kind of thing one could only say without irony at eighteen, no matter how disaffected one was trying to look. Ethan always believed in a future and his ability to move into it. Ripper was trying only to think about the now.

And now had Ethan up against an alley wall, the boy’s legs wrapped expertly around his back. Ethan was biting into the leather that covered Ripper’s shoulder to stifle his moans. It was not the first time, but one of the first. The first time, Ripper never would have done what he did next.

“Stop my breath,” whispered Ethan.

Ripper didn’t know what he meant. He covered his inexperience by reaching down into Ethan’s jeans, where the two of them rubbed together, and pinching the bare cock with two fingernails. He hushed Ethan’s scream by shoving his thumb into the boy’s mouth. Ethan could smell himself on fingers that were callused not only from guitars and fistacuffs. He would never ask where they came from. He pulled at the hand and placed it over his nose and mouth as Ripper expertly got his own jeans down just enough, Ethan supporting all his own weight. Something flashed in Ripper’s eyes, the barest spark of a question. Ethan nodded. Ripper reached into his pocket, smeared his fingers with lube, and began to play expertly against Ethan’s hole.

“Oh God! Oh God!” 

Only Ethan knew what he was saying against Ripper’s palm. Sex was the only time he ever called down what was a fiction at best and an old bastard at worst. 

What could I call down and move through this man’s hands? Ethan thought distractedly. What could I make with them? What could we make?

Ripper was rod-hard against Ethan without so much as a kiss in return. Ethan rubbed against him like a cat, slid down, and turned against the wall; presenting his ass. He never wore underwear. He reached into the pocket of his lowered jeans and pulled out a black scarf, tied it around his eyes, and listened to the sound of unzipping. The deep grunt Ripper gave as he pulled his cock out and slicked it thrilled through Ethan’s body. Under the layer of body heat and the cool mist, Ethan could feel the low current of dormant magic rolling off the other man’s taut body and touching deep inside to meet his own. In his personal darkness, he felt Ripper reach out and brush a fingertip against the scarf and into his curls. Then he slid a palm under Ethan’s silk shirt and stroked up his spine. Ethan’s breath deserted him at the shockingly tender touch, his jaw falling. He wanted to buck away from it and dissolve simultaneously. There was someone gentle underneath all the fury roiling in this man. Ethan had no use for gentleness.

Liar, liar, he thought. That’s okay, beauty, we can make you anyone you want to be. All masks become real with enough time.

He was forgetting the drab surroundings, retreating into a plane of only sensation under the hands. Then Ripper pinned him with all his weight to the wall and slipped inside him. He exhaled a hot breath on the back of Ethan’s neck. When Ethan howled, the palm came back against his lips. He licked it playfully. Ripper gave him a moment to adjust, to just let them feel one another, before he drew out slightly and struck into him. 

“Faster,” Ethan begged after the third such movement.

“Don’t tell me what to do,” growled Ripper, but he picked up his pace.

Maybe he could sense how best to please Ethan. But it was a shaky assumption. He wasn’t used to this, Ethan could tell. No dirty little quickies in the hay with the stableboy at the country house. Maybe there had been a mean older boy in the dormitories. Or maybe there hadn’t been anyone at all. The thought added another layer of delight over the mounting pleasure and the low scald of magic.

“I could do anything to you,” Ripper hummed hotly against his ear. He sounded less commanding and more incredulous at the idea. Seeming to sense the slip in his guise, his voice assumed a harder edge. “Leave you here blind in a heap. Like a rat in the gutter.”

Ethan nudged the hand away from his mouth. Ripper obviously didn’t know enough to hold his turf.

“You’re in the gutter with me now,” he answered breathlessly.

Ripper didn’t know how to reply and so licked the back of Ethan’s neck. He crested Ethan further and further towards release but it wasn’t quite enough. He knew how to put the cherry on the cake.

Ethan knew how to bend a lover’s will with a spell. It did absolutely nothing for him. Devoting himself to chaos had been a way to rid himself of the controlling impulse inherent in magic. Molding the world to one’s desires was too...available. Ethan wanted to be Puck, not some Old Testament god.

He wanted the chance to give himself over to this mess of a man walking between selves. But sometimes, one had to grease the wheels just a little to see what the outcome would be.

He sent the message to Ripper’s hands where they pressed on the wall above his head, not to his mind exactly. The idea needed to be Ripper’s. Ethan was no beggar. The hands slid down and began to gently massage the sides of Ethan’s throat. He sighed encouragingly.

There was the barest instant of a halt while Ripper considered and even the fear Ethan felt added to the closeness of orgasm. 

“That’s what you want?”

“Hurt me.”

“I--”

The illusion of Ripper broke for just that breath. Ethan wasn’t worried. All things with time.

“I’ll teach you.”

It could easily have been a disaster. Ethan might have had to think through the brink of orgasm to loosen a less experienced partner’s hands and avoid danger. It was his own fault. He hated asking for what he wanted; all the discussion. But he certainly didn’t want brain damage. But Ripper knew and somewhat hated that he knew. Old combat training came back. He mentally worked backwards from the desire to subdue an opponent, placing cupped hands on either side of Ethan’s neck again. The flutter of his rapid pulse beneath his fingers excited Ripper and pulled him back into the moment. He squeezed gently, moving his forefinger to apply some moderate pressure just below the trachea. Ethan’s legs tightened spasmodically around Ripper’s body and he bucked as he came. Ripper released his hold quickly, clutching Ethan close as he shuddered and muffled his cry in Ripper’s neck.

“Got you,” Ripper gasped. “I’ve got you.”

It was a long moment before Ethan wrapped his arms around Ripper in return.

“You’re good,” he gulped.

“You’re a manipulative little shit. And if you ever control me again, I’ll break your fucking jaw.”

“Promise?” 

Ethan batted his eyelashes. Ripper pushed him away with a sneer. As Ethan stumbled backward, Ripper disguised catching him by the shoulder by steering him onto his knees.

“I gave you what you wanted.” His voice caught, then turned hard. “Your turn.”

Ethan grinned. As he obliged, neither of them knew someone out in the night rain had watched the moment with a hidden set of animal eyes. He admired the look of the two punk lovers. Watching them in the first fumblings of sticky submission almost made Spike wish he could still breathe. He did not know he stood several feet from a boy trained in every way to tear him apart. He did think perhaps it was time for a new look for such new and brazen times; something to lure such kids in their dark clubs. 

It’s not the place of this work to ask if the boy would have done so had he caught the vampire staring. He only tossed back his head with a silent cry against the brick and let the cold air expand his lungs before he did up his pants and offered a hand to the one on the ground. Then they walked through the mist past the one who had been watching. 

They raced each other up the stairs to their squat like children. They took off their damp clothes and didn’t bother to put on new ones. Ethan covered his surprised squeak when Ripper pulled him down to lay at his side on the mattress. If they fell asleep together, it wasn’t anyone’s business.

[lifeofkaze]

When Stars Ignite - Chapter 11

HPHM Rockstar AU

A/N: As always, the lovely KC (only in mention) belongs to the beautiful @kc-and-oc . Thank you for everyone holding my blushing little hand through this and listening to me whine about it. Also thank you for all the ones providing me with research information 👀. You know who you are! 💛

General Warning: This whole fic has a general warning of being NSFW / 18+. We will give specific warnings for every chapter in itself, but several adult themes will be more or less present in every chapter, may it be explicitly or in mention. These include sexual topics, drug abuse, (ab)use of alcohol, smoking and a whole lot of cursing.

Specific Warning: Langague, depiction of alcohol consumption, depiction of drug abuse, graphic depiction of explicit NSFW content - do NOT read if under the age of 18!

~~~

Find the masterpost here, the previous chapter here and the next one here. The songs featured before every chapter can be found on this pretty badass playlist here.

~~~

This work is a collaboration with @the-al-chemist

Taglist: @slytherindisaster @night-rhea @carewyncromwell

And we were trying different things

We were smoking funny things

Making love out by the lake to our favorite song

Sipping whiskey out the bottle, not thinking 'bout tomorrow

Singing Sweet home Alabama all summer long

~ Kid Rock - All Summer Long ~

~ 10 months prior ~

It had been an unusually hot day, even for the middle of August. The heat hazes over the scalding hot streets were omnipresent, and people everywhere were trying to find some relief from the burning sun.

Lizzie loved every second of it.

She didn’t mind the high temperatures at all and relished the warmth on her skin as she stepped outside the old house in Kensington. It belonged to Ethan Parkin and Equinox had been keeping their rehearsal rooms in his converted cellar ever since Lizzie could remember.

They had just finished a long day of putting together the last details for their upcoming European tour. It had taken them all day until everyone had been satisfied with the results. Finally outside again, Lizzie intended to make the most out of the remaining hours of daylight.

It had suited her just fine when Orion had mentioned the poetry slam happening just around the corner of where he was living. He had invited all of them to come, but all except Lizzie had already made plans for the evening. Skye had wanted to come as well, but after receiving a text, she had abruptly changed her mind again.

So now it was only the two of them riding on the West Kensington tube station towards Gloucester Road. Orion was casually carrying a huge bag containing one of his guitars over his shoulder.

“Why are you taking that with you?” Lizzie asked him curiously. “You usually keep them in the rehearsal room.”

“Everything has its time, may it be little or large. The time of the strings on this guitar are almost over; I need to replace them,” Orion said. “I don’t have any suitable ones at the rehearsal room though. I’ll just drop the guitar off at home and we’ll be on our way again.”

They had just hopped onto the Circle Line that would take them to Notting Hill; Orion watched her from across his seat. “Why do you look so surprised?”

Lizzie tilted her head to one side. “In all these years, none of us has ever been at your place before. Except for Merula, of course,” she added matter-of-factly.

They were about to reach Notting Hill Gate and Orion motioned for her to get up. “Then it’s about time.”

They had to walk a bit from the tube station to the house where Orion was living. Although it took them about fifteen minutes to get there, Lizzie didn’t even notice. They passed through bustling streets, several of them lined with market stalls selling food and curious little trinkets. The colourful terraces and fronts that made Nottinghill so famous brightened Lizzie’s mood even further.

She and Orion were talking about all kinds of things, the band, the tour, the fact that Lizzie had never been to a poetry slam before; something, Orion told her, they would definitely need to change.

When they arrived at their destination, Lizzie dipped her head back and looked up at the brightly painted front of the old house. It was bigger than the ones surrounding it and Lizzie presumed it was made up of several flats.

“Are you coming?” Orion called over to her; he was waiting in the doorway, holding the door open for her.

Lizzie smiled as she followed him into the cool darkness of the stairwell. “I just thought this place fits you.”

He laughed softly as he climbed the stairs behind her. “What makes you think that?”

“It’s a mix of so many different things,” Lizzie explained, “traditional, but also free-spirited and unconventional, old-fashioned and modern at the same time; just like you.”

She heard Orion laugh again. “Well, if you think so.”

They walked right to the top floor, where two dark blue doors branched off the landing. Orion unlocked the one on the left and stepped aside to let her enter his flat first.

Lizzie found herself standing in one huge, sun-filled room; her eyes were immediately drawn to the big skylights in the bare brick walls through which the light was filtering in. It was a lot tidier than she would have expected from someone with as much creative energy as Orion. But even though the furniture was pretty minimalistic, the room seemed to breathe Orion’s energy.

Everywhere she looked Lizzie could see something that was so inherently him; a half-finished travel book on India, a bowl full of colourful crystals, a small dreamcatcher hanging over his bed in the far corner of the room. Almost every free surface was occupied by plants of all forms and sizes; they added a pleasant pop of colour to the otherwise neutral toned place.

Everything Orion needed on a daily basis seemed to be in the room Lizzie was standing in right now; the only thing she was surprised to notice was the total lack of anything to do with music. While she kept her main drum kit at their rehearsal room when they weren’t on tour, she had a smaller one over at her own place, as well as some other percussion and a guitar for when she felt like a change.

Her unasked question was answered when Orion walked past her into an adjacent room Lizzie hadn’t noticed before, his guitar still strung over his shoulder. Curious, she followed behind and had to chuckle when she saw the reason why there were no traces of Orion’s love for music in the main room.

The whole second room of his flat had been turned into some kind of home studio. All of their awards and golden records were hung on the walls, alternating with several old guitars. All of them seemed to be in pristine condition.

On Lizzie’s left side was a huge table that was littered with notebooks, plectrums and a simple switchboard she assumed Orion used for recordings. What piqued her interest was located on the other side of the room, however; all the instruments featured in their band were set up there, including a worn looking, blue drum kit, almost similar to the one she had at home for practising.

Lizzie smiled and stepped closer to it as Orion deposited his guitar on the worktable. She ran her hand over the floor tom, one of the horizontally mounted drums. Something about it felt oddly familiar.

“Do you remember it?”

Lizzie looked up from the drums and saw Orion leaning against the doorframe, watching her. “You should, it’s the one you used on our first tour. The label let me have it for practically nothing.”

The memory made her smile and she tapped her fingers against the slightly worn drum head in a quick, alternating rhythm. “Why am I not surprised at all that you’re using half of your place for making music?”

He mirrored her smile. “Passion is like a living thing, it needs room to breathe and be free if it wants to thrive. Did you think I made up all the instrument parts for our songs only in my head?”

Lizzie picked up one of the drumsticks and flipped it, laughing as she caught it again. “And your neighbours are okay with you running your one-man band up here?”

“So far, no one has complained,” Orion grinned before pushing himself off the wall. He motioned to her to follow him. “Come on, the studio’s great but I want to show you the best part of this place.”

She followed him back into the other room, where he led her to one of the huge skylights. Lizzie noticed the steep, rickety looking steps beneath it. Orion reached up and undid the latch before quickly climbing upwards and vanishing through the window.

When she didn’t follow immediately, his head popped back into view. “What’s wrong?”

Lizzie eyed the steps sceptically. “These don't look really trustworthy.”

Orion laughed and extended his hand to her. “Don’t you trust me?” His eyes twinkled with amusement. “Or are you scared?”

“As if,” Lizzie snorted indignantly and climbed up after him, completely ignoring his offer for help.

Her momentary flare of stubborness died as quickly as it had come when she stepped past Orion and out onto a beautiful terrace, set back into the roof of the building. It wasn’t a particularly large space, but it was more than enough for a sunchair, a set of lounge chairs and a table. A huge parasol protected the area from the sun, but even so it was burning hot up here. The ground was laid with wooden floorboards and several chains of fairy lights and small lampions were fixed to the walls or wound about the railing of the sunshade.

Not one to be intimidated by the heat, Lizzie walked over to the wrought iron railing and leaned over it, admiring the breathtaking view stretching out in front of her. The skyline of London was glittering in the sunlight and she could make out the sea of green that was Kensington Gardens.

“Wow,” she breathed, “the view is fantastic.”

She heard Orion chuckle from somewhere behind her. “It is.”

Lizzie’s eyes fell to the many plant pots lining the length of the terrace. Like the plants inside, they added something peaceful to the atmosphere; she had never known Orion was so into gardening.

She ran her finger over the leaves of one of them. “Who’s taking care of these when we’re on tour?”

“My neighbour,” Orion answered, “she knows her way around plants. She is teaching botany at Queen Mary University.”

Lizzie had spotted a very familiar looking specimen with distinctly pinnate leaves. She turned to Orion with a grin. “And your professor neighbour is alright with watering this illegal little fellow here?”

Orion laughed. “She’s very liberal on the matter, really. Where do you think I got it from?”

“All for scientific reasons, I presume.”

“It does open the mind to a new level of creativity,” Orion shrugged, making Lizzie laugh out loud.

“That sounds so much like you. No wonder I don’t get the lyrics half the time.”

Lizzie stepped back from the railing and wandered over to the sunchair. The heated surface bit into the bare skin of her legs as she lounged into it, but she enjoyed the warmth as soon as the initial pain subsided.

“I can definitely see why this is your favourite place,” she sighed, “I could just stay here all day.”

“The poetry slam doesn’t start for another hour,” Orion said, “and it’s not far from here, so we don’t have to go just yet. Do you want a drink or something?”

Lizzie turned her head and shaded her eyes with her hand. “I like the sound of that.”

***

One glass of ice cold white wine turned into two, and then turned into a number Lizzie couldn’t possibly remember anymore. The sun had long gone down and the poetry slam had started ages ago, but they were still sitting on Orion’s rooftop terrace with no intention of going anywhere anytime soon.

With the sun gone, the air had grown cooler; the floor and walls were heated by the day’s sun, but Lizzie had found herself hugging her bare knees, shivering just a little. Orion had gone back inside to bring her something to keep her warm; he had come back with a plain black hoodie that she had gratefully accepted. Orion was much taller than Lizzie was, however and so the sweater hung loose around her shoulders and went down past beneath her hips. Lizzie had to roll up the sleeves several times until her hands were free again, but she was glad for the extra warmth it provided.

It didn’t surprise her that Orion didn’t grow the weed plant out of sheer botanical interest; accompanying the wine, they were sharing a joint with a mixture he had created himself. Lizzie couldn’t tell if she was primarily drunk or high at this point, the only thing she knew was that she had never in her life seen anything so fascinating as the fairy lights reflected in her wine glass.

“Like teeny tiny fireflies,” she giggled as she twirled the glass between her fingers, delighted by the way the light sparkled in the cold drink.

“I think you’ve caught a bit too much,” Orion chuckled but handed her the joint back anyway. Although he had been wearing a very detached grin on his face for the last half an hour or so, he wasn’t nearly as giddy as Lizzie; but then again, he was probably much more used to smoking than she was.

“And besides,” he continued, holding his own glass up against the lights, “they’re clearly little stars; how can you not see that?” His face grew pensive. “A whole, tiny wine glass galaxy.”

“You’ve no idea what you’re talking about,” Lizzie declared firmly. She lounged deeper into her armchair and took a deep drag. She dipped her head back and slowly blew the smoke into the air; the way it made the lights hazy was really pretty. “And it’s called a teacup galaxy.”

“Aren’t we all galaxies in our own teacups, in one way or another?”

Lizzie hummed in response. “In that case, I’d actually prefer the wine glass.”

She closed her eyes and let the sensation of the cushions in her back envelope her for a moment. From somewhere in the neighbourhood music was drifting up to them; from what she could hear, it sounded tropical, Caribbean maybe. Her thoughts being deliciously hazy, Lizzie could just imagine not being on a rooftop in London, but on a beautiful beach somewhere far, far away.

She smiled to herself; there could be worse company on a tropical island than Orion. The smile turned into a smirk as she thought about the many different tattoos she knew were decorating his well-toned upper body; she could most definitely imagine having worse company.

Indulging the idea of lounging in the warm sand with a drink and the rushing of the waves in the air a few moments longer, a sudden thought struck her and she sat upright.

“I just had the most brilliant idea.”

Surprised by her unexpected outburst of energy, Orion almost dropped his glass. “I told you smoking broadens the mind,” he said after regaining his composure. “What is it?”

“We should so change our tour display. It’s boring.”

A mixture of intrigue and scepticism showing on his features, Orion tilted his head. “So your suggestion would be?”

Excited by her flash of genius, Lizzie placed her now empty glass on the table between them and leaned forward. “Two words: steel drums.”

Orion didn’t say anything for a moment, a crease forming on his forehead. Then, he broke into a dazzling smile. “That must be the best idea you’ve ever had.”

“I know, right? But it gets even better.”

“How could it get better than steel drums? More steel drums?”

Lizzie contemplated that possibility for a moment but discarded it quickly. “No, I don’t think so.” Her eyes lit up as she thought about her idea. “But you and Ev could totally play ukulele.”

Orion sighed. “Totally.”

A thought seemed to cross his mind. “But I’m not sure Ev can play the ukulele.”

Lizzie was dismayed by this. “I thought if you can play the guitar you can automatically play the ukulele.”

“If you want to call what Ev does playing.”

She had to snort with laughter at Orion’s dry tone. “We’ll just replace him with KC, she’s the prettier one anyway.” The thought of KC performing a hula dance on stage had her laugh even harder.

“There’s a problem though,” Orion broke her out of her entertaining thoughts.

“What’s that?”

“You can’t play the steel drums.”

“Who says that I can’t?”

“Well, can you?”

“I can learn,” Lizzie replied stubbornly. “How hard can that be? You only have one steel drum and I have... “ She frowned as she was trying and failing to envision her drum kit in her head. “How many drums do I have? I can’t remember.”

“More than one, in any case,” Orion laughed and extended his hand towards her empty glass. “You go think about that, and I’ll get you a refill.”

Lizzie was quicker though, snatching the glass out of his reach and getting up. “Don’t worry, I can go myself.”

She walked towards the skylight leading back into the flat but had underestimated the effect of both the drugs and the alcohol on her body. Shaking her head a little, Lizzie took a moment to steady herself.

Just when she thought she had found her balance again, her foot caught in the wire of one of the fairy lights. She stumbled forward with a jolt, ripping the plug right out of its socket and plunging a good portion of the rooftop into darkness.

Luckily for her, Orion didn’t feel the effects of their smoke as much as she did. His reaction time was still quick enough to catch her before she could hit the ground. She could hear the breath leaving his lungs as she collided with his chest; at least he was softer than the floorboards would have been.

He laughed as she straightened up again. “Careful, drummer girl, that was close.”

Lizzie tilted her head as she looked up at him curiously. “You’re close.”

Only now realising their position, Orion mumbled an apology and started to move away from her but Lizzie was quicker. She had already scrambled up onto the seat next to him, still feeling a little dizzy. Her feet were resting on the arm of the lounge chair, her legs lying draped across Orion’s thighs.

“No, it’s alright,” she giggled and leaned against him, “you’re more comfortable than my chair anyway.”

Leaning towards the table to retrieve Orion’s glass, Lizzie’ head started spinning again and she had to grip his shoulder for support. She was glad when she felt Orion’s arm come around her back for added support.

“And besides,” she held the glass up triumphantly before bringing it to her lips, “that way, it’s easier to share this.”

They were sitting like that for a while, Lizzie leaning against Orion’s chest, her head nestled into the crook of his neck, while he had his arms around her. The music she had been hearing earlier was still playing, faintly carrying up towards them. Lizzie had her eyes closed, alternating between listening to the upbeat melody and the calm rhythm of Orion’s heartbeat.

Now that she was relaxing, she became increasingly aware of the combined effects of the many glasses of wine and the spliff they had relit again. She felt as if she was floating through a haze on the soft sound of the steel drums, as if she could fly right into the night sky until she was surrounded by a glittering sea of stars.

The only thing anchoring her was Orion, the steady rising and falling of his chest, the ends of his hair brushing against her cheek when he moved, the touch of his fingers against hers when he handed her back the wine they were sharing.

Her head was spinning and she hooked her finger underneath one of Orion’s woven bracelets, as if the physical holding on to him could prevent the rooftop from revolving around her. The breathy sigh leaving her lips turned into a giggle.

“I don’t know what you’ve put in that stuff but, damn, it packs a punch.”

Orion chuckled, the hand around her back playing with a strand of her ponytail; she had to laugh as he tickled her neck with the ends of it. “There’s nothing out of the ordinary in there.”

She leaned a little away from him so as to better see his face. “So, what is it? Spill it!”

His smile turned into a smirk. “Who am I to tell you all my secrets? A little mystery only adds to the fun.”

Intrigued by his evasiveness, Lizzie raised her eyebrows. “Is that a challenge?”

A curious expression flickered over Orion’s face for a moment. “Maybe.”

“Whatever it is, it’s thoroughly wrecking me,” Lizzie declared; that didn’t stop her from taking another sip of wine, however.

She could hear the laughter ringing in Orion’s voice. “That’s got less to do with the grass and more with all that wine. And the fact that you’re really, really small.”

“I’m not really, really small!” Lizzie replied indignantly.

“Of course you are, look at you; you’re basically a midget.”

Lizzie shoved him playfully, trying to keep a straight face but failing. “I’m not a midget and I’m not small!”

Orion caught her hand without so much as an effort. “Just look at you, you could wear my sweater as a dress.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, I’m the perfect size.”

There it was again, that curious expression Lizzie had seen just a moment before. A crooked smile appeared on Orion’s face as his eyes flickered from her face over the rest of her body.

“I can hardly argue with that.”

Lizzie regarded him for a moment, trying to take his measure. The mood had shifted from the relaxed cuddle they’d shared into something entirely different. There was a sudden tension hanging in the air that made Lizzie’s skin tingle and she was sure that it had nothing to do with either the grass or the alcohol.

The corner of her mouth quirked up. “Is that so?”

She leaned forward again to put the wine glass away, using the momentum to shift her position. Turning slightly, she straddled Orion’s thighs, one arm resting lightly on his shoulder.

His dark eyes followed her every movement as she plucked the joint from his lips, gave it one slow, deliberate drag before putting it out against the wall, never breaking their eye contact. Holding the smoke inside her mouth for one long moment, she dipped her head back and blew it against the night sky. When she looked back at Orion again, his eyes on her were intense, making a shiver run down her spine. His hands were holding her hips, waiting on what she would do. Her lips curved into a smirk as she leaned in, her lips close to his ear.

“Only one way to find out.”

There was nothing hesitant about the way their lips found each other for the first time. Lizzie could taste the same fruity sweetness of the wine on his lips that was still hanging on hers.

Orion’s grip on her waist intensified and she could feel the rough skin of his hands as they found their way underneath her shirt, his fingers feeling deliciously cool against her heated skin. Her breath accelerated as their kiss deepend, her lips parting willingly as Orion’s tongue brushed against her lower lip.

She buried her hands in his long hair, as he pulled her closer, their bodies pressed together as closely as their position would allow. A low moan left Orion’s lips as she softly pulled at his hair, the movement of his head following her lead as he dipped it back into his neck.

Breaking their kiss, Lizzie’s lips started moving over his cheek to his jawline, her breath ghosting over his bare neck. She could see the goosebumps on his skin and feel his fingers dig into her waist as she teasingly ran her tongue over his collarbone. He sucked in his breath in surprise as her teeth nipped the sensitive skin and Lizzie couldn’t help but grin as her lips travelled upwards again.

Capturing his lips in another searing kiss, Lizzie’s breath hitched as his hands were sliding down from her waist over her hips. They came to rest on her bum, squeezing it tightly for a moment. She could feel his jeans becoming tighter as she ran her hand over him, coaxing another moan from his mouth. The sound made the heat spread from her stomach through her chest and into the rest of her body; she wanted to hear more of that.

Her fingers started working to undo his belt when he suddenly stopped her, gently pulling her hand away. Her eyes flew towards his face, a crease appearing on her brow.

“You not okay with this?”

Orion’s eyes were sparkling as he pulled her in for another kiss that took her breath away. When he pulled back, Lizzie’s head was spinning.

“Let’s take this inside,” he muttered into her ear. His voice sounded a lot deeper than what she was used to and she shuddered in anticipation.

Lizzie reluctantly climbed off him to let him get up. Orion couldn’t resist kissing her again, as he walked past her. Taking her hand, he pulled her towards the skylight that led down into the darkness of his flat. He climbed down the steps without a moment of hesitation; Lizzie, however, had to channel her concentration on something different than the burning need to feel Orion’s hands on her skin before tackling the unfamiliar steps.

And sure enough, two steps down, she misplaced her foot and felt herself falling for a moment. But for the second time that evening Orion was there, his hands providing her with something to hold onto.

Standing on the steps, Lizzie was a little taller than him. She gave in to the urge to pull him towards her and steal another kiss from him. His hands ran over her exposed thighs, leaving a trail of goosebumps behind. Lizzie’s muscles tensed when he lifted her off the stairs, her legs wrapping around his midsection as he carried her over to his bed with a few short steps.

He lowered her down onto it and got rid of his shirt. There was no light in the room except for what was falling through the windows from the streetlights outside, but it was enough for Lizzie to see all of the countless tattoos decorating his skin, all the thoughtful quotes and intricate patterns.

She propped herself up on her elbows, locking eyes with him as he joined her on the bed. Reaching for his belt again, this time Orion let her undo it without objection. The deep moan she drew from him as she ran her hand over him a second time made her breathing speed up as well.

Much to her surprise, now that they’d changed location, their roles had reversed themselves. Where Lizzie had been in charge up on the rooftop, it was all she could do to keep her wits together as Orion let his hands roam her body.

The sweater she had still been wearing went almost instantly, quickly followed by her shirt and her shorts. Lizzie closed her eyes and held her breath as Orion worked his way from her lips over her neck, trailing kisses down between her breasts, lingering there for a sweet moment before moving on even lower. His soft lips combined with the bite of his beard almost drove her insane, but Lizzie just so managed to pull herself together.

Pushing him off her, she used his moment of confusion to flip him over, straddling him again. She shuddered at the feeling of him through her pants but pushed the thought aside; not just yet.

“Did you really think I was going to make this so easy for you?” she purred as she twirled his necklace around her finger. She smirked as she slightly repositioned herself on top of him, creating a delicious friction between them that had not only Orion exhale very slowly.

Lizzie pulled her hair tie out, enjoying the tickle as her light brown curls fell down beneath her shoulder blades. She bent forward to kiss Orion again, but he was simply staring at her.

“What?” she asked with a slight chuckle.

“You’re so beautiful,” he whispered, brushing her hair that had fallen over her shoulder and was almost reaching his bare chest out of her face. Lizzie enjoyed the light pull as he raked his fingers through her mane. “So damn fucking beautiful.”

Lizzie felt a smile form on her lips before she kissed him, teasingly biting his lip. She could feel Orion’s hand wandering up her bare back to where her bra was still hooked. With a practised movement that didn’t surprise her in the least, he undid the clasp and Lizzie shrugged it off. The cool air coming in from the still open skylight hit her bare breasts and made her shiver from more than cold.

Orion’s hands danced over her thighs and up her sides until they found her breasts. Lizzie shuddered as his fingers grazed her sensitive spot at their base, her eyes closed to enjoy the sensation fully, when he suddenly stopped.

Opening her eyes again, she saw a curious look forming on his face as he turned her slightly so the light would better shine on her. Lizzie chuckled to herself; she knew exactly what he was so surprised to see.

“I never knew you had a tattoo,” Orion said, his eyes wandering over the black writing.

He traced his fingers over the inked words sneaking over her ribcage to the base of her breasts; the touch of his calloused fingertips made her sigh.

“You recognise the words?” she whispered with a smile, running her hand over one of Orion’s own tattoos on his chest.

“Unbounded like water, burning like wildfire,” he smiled, “of course I do; I wrote them after all. I had no idea you had them inked.”

She smiled back at him; the quote was taken out of one of her favourite songs Orion had ever written. “They’ve pulled at something in me ever since I heard them for the first time. I wanted to carry them with me wherever I go.”

A series of different emotions flickered over Orion’s face, much too quick for Lizzie to distinguish in the half-light of the room. He sat up, wrapping his arms around her, keeping her close. He kissed her with a passion that took her breath away.

“I want you,” he whispered into her ear, his voice low and husky in his throat, making Lizzie draw a shivering breath as she leaned her forehead against his.

“Then come and take me.”

It was all Orion needed to hear. He let himself fall back onto the bed, drawing her down with him. Their lips met in a passionate kiss before he flipped them around, so he was on top of her.

His head dipped against her shoulder as Lizzie reached down, tracing the edge of his boxers before her fingers disappeared beneath it. She ran them up and down his length, noting how his breath hitched, his arms tensing around her as she worked against him.

He stopped her after a few more strokes and moved away from her hand. Repaying her in kind, he ran his fingers over her pants, so very slowly, his eyes never leaving hers as she moaned at his touch. Hooking his fingers underneath the fabric, he pulled them off, leaving her fully exposed to him, but there wasn’t a single moment Lizzie felt vulnerable at all.

She gasped as Orion began to touch her properly; the touch of his rough fingertips was surprisingly soft, and combined with the trail of kisses he left on her hot skin, he made her feel like she was on fire. Her breathing strained, she managed to rasp out his name just before she would lose it completely.

Never stopping the movement of his hand, Orion looked up at her with a wicked grin on his lips.

“Anything the matter?”

All she wanted was to feel him by now but her words died on her lips as Orion slightly twisted his hand, making her inhale sharply.

With a low chuckle he withdrew his hand, making her miss his touch immediately. That short moment of regret was instantly forgotten when she felt Orion position himself before slowly pushing inside her.

For a fraction of a second, the reality that she was sleeping with one of her best friends hovered on the border of Lizzie’s mind, threatening to hit her; but when Orion started moving against her, their bodies instantly found a common rhythm. They were in tune with each other from the very first moment, all thoughts forgotten.

Their ragged breaths, her sweet sighs and his deep moans were a music of their own. Lizzie had her legs wrapped around Orion, her nails digging into his forearms; she could feel his muscles working underneath her fingers as he supported his weight with his arms. Even through the haze of her drunk and drugged mind, she was impressed with how flawlessly they were working together; his body against hers was feeling so incredibly natural, like they were meant to be that way.

She had no idea how, but just like before, Orion managed to hit all the right spots at the same time. Lizzie had trouble focusing on anything but the fire building inside her. She couldn’t form a coherent thought anymore, wasn’t able to think any further than the next breath, the next shock of pleasure Orion sent through her body as they moved.

Feeling she was almost there, her hold on him tightened as he picked up the pace, shifting slightly to take a little strain off his arms. Taken by surprise at the suddenly different angle, digging her fingers into Orion’s shoulders was all Lizzie could do as her high crashed over her like a tidal wave. Her body shook as she buried her face against Orion’s chest, clinging to him as if for dear life.

Hearing his name fall from her lips in a broken moan with her nails biting into his back, Orion couldn’t last much longer either. Their rhythm became an off-beat one, his movements more erratic than before. Lizzie could feel the muscles in his back tremble as he rode out his own high. His head dipped into the crook of her neck as both their breathings were starting to slow.

Orion stayed on top of her for a moment longer and kissed her one last time before pushing himself off of her. Lizzie breathed in deeply, running her hand over her tangled hair.

“Huh,” she chuckled, “who would’ve thought.”

“Who indeed,” Orion smirked.

The sizzling tension between them from before was gone and it just felt like it had always done between them; relaxed, familiar and completely natural.

They looked at each other for a moment before simultaneously bursting into laughter, nothing more than friends again, the sound carrying through the dark, out of the window and into the black night sky.

[ada-mike]

The Truth Always Comes Out - Digimon (Davis/Yolei)

Hey, guys, long time no see. Hope you’re all doing well, all things considered. I decided to dust off this blog and post a little FanFiction for a change! Fancy that. Why FanFiction for a fairly rare pair in a children’s cartoon from twenty years ago? Good question. I was honestly inspired by the work of a truly amazing writer @tanyatakaishi and their incredible story Innocent Games, whose sequel is currently in progress and definitely worth the read whether you’re into Digimon or not (but you should be into Digimon, i mean seriously?) But yeah, drop by and give Innocent Games a read, drop a comment and a kudo too while you’re at it. This short story I’m posting myself is so inspired by Innocent Games, it’s pretty safe to call it a FanFiction of a FanFiction, doesn’t really fit into any canon, and is just something I had rattling around my head that I needed to bang out. Please give it a read and let me know your thoughts! Stay safe, ya’ll.

- Mike

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In hindsight, he really should have known better. Yolei had always possessed an inquisitive streak to put it lightly (whether or not the matter being investigated was her business was rarely a concern) and she was typically about as adept at snooping things out as Davis was poor at hiding them.

And really, on his laptop of all places?

Davis, along with the rest of their friends, had spent his fair share of time around – as well as inside of – computers, but regardless, they were still Yolei's domain through and through, her expertise. And as his father had once told him many years ago, during a family trip to the supermarket where Davis had denied, despite being caught, that he'd tried to shoplift a pack of gum down the front of his shorts: The truth always comes out.

His thoughts were scattered though as they stumbled through the front door and into the blackness of the dorm he shared with Ken. Yolei was strung over his back like a long-legged, lilac-haired knapsack – having mounted him during the elevator ride, laughing, the liquor in her belly turning her playful.

The haze of alcohol still hung heavy in Davis’s mind too, enough so that his legs wobbled dangerously as he carried her through the blackness to where he approximated the futon was.

“Is Ken here?” Her breath was warm in his hair and the heat climbed up his neck to settle in the tips of his ears.

“Nah,” He said. “He’s with his parents this weekend.”

“Perfect.” She purred.

Davis picked up the pace, stumbling over a pair of soccer cleats in the dark. He spun in a circle, pulling a fresh laugh from Yolei, before depositing them both on the sagging futon cushion. Yolei sat pinned behind him, a little squished, but regardless it was the perfect position to plant sloppy kisses on his exposed neck. Davis squirmed, his heart racing.

“It doesn’t smell in here, does it?” He asked.

“Only a little.”

“It’s the trash, I bet. I haven’t taken it out since Monday.” He moved to rise, but she pulled him back into her lap, near growling:

“Leave it.”

“Mmm,” He hummed. “You like the funk, huh? It sets the mood for you?”

“You’re about to ruin the mood if you don’t shut it.”

“Such a way with words, love.”

Love.

That word. It was enough to diffuse squabble that had been sparking.

Davis sunk back into her and she wrapped her arms around him, feeling up and down his chest, then down his gut. He seized one of her hands and brought it to his mouth, kissing her sharp knuckles, the pads of her fingers, her wrist. It was surprisingly tender for him.

And it drove her absolutely wild.

Her free hand had just wrapped around the buckle of his belt, when the door to the bedroom creaked open.

“Davish?”

They both flinched as tiny feet pounded on the floor, leapt, then thudded lightly on the futon by their side. Yolei reached and flicked on the lamp switch by her head.

“DemiVeemon!” Davis was grinning at the sight of his partner, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “I thought you’d still be sleeping, buddy.”

“I had a dream that we were on a boat! I wanted to tell you about it!” The in-training Digimon clambered onto Yolei’s knee. “Yolei, your face is so red you look like a tomato!”

“It’s hot.” She explained. And it was, the compounding moments of passion followed by DemiVeemon’s interruption had them both sweating slightly.

“Where’s Poromon?” The Digimon asked, unperturbed. Fresh from his nap, he was ready to play.

“Um- He’s spending the night in the Digital World.” She dug her nails into Davis’s side, causing him to wince in pain, the soft touches suddenly gone. “I kind of thought you’d be there too.”

“Nope!” Chirped DemiVeemon. “But we could all go now!”

“Tomorrow, buddy.” Davis brushed his hands over DemiVeemon’s ears. Even if a trip to the Digital World could be fit into their agenda, the phantom feeling of Yolei's hands on him was fresh and that very likely meant that standing up anytime would be a bad move. “But hey, you know, I think I still have some Udon in the fridge from yesterday. Ya hungry?”

“Yes!”

As DemiVeemon scampered away, Davis sighed and lifted himself out from between Yolei’s legs so he could sit beside her.

“Sorry about that,” He settled his arms on her shoulders, leaning close. “But where were we?”

“Davis, no.” She pushed him back. “I told you that I was taking Poromon to the Digital World so we could be alone tonight. Why didn’t you do the same?”

“I was going to. I just – I dunno, felt bad about dumping him there.” Davis rubbed his nose. The alcohol's buzz was fading from him now, much too fast for his liking. “He’ll be in a food coma in twenty minutes though, I guarantee it. Then we can get back to -”

“Hold on,” Her eyes sharpened into knives behind her glasses “You think I dumped Poromon in the Digital World?”

“No, I-”

“I did not dump him,” She continued, shifting further away on the cushion as she sat up straighter. “He’s helping out in Primary Village. I’ll be there to pick him up again tomorrow.”

“I know!” Davis felt a fresh wave of heat roll up his ears, annoyed that she was picking apart his words tonight of all nights. “I’m not trying to make you feel guilty.”

“I have no reason to feel guilty.” She folded her arms and sank back, eyes settling on the kitchen where DemiVeemon’s ears were casting shadows up the wall from the light of the open refrigerator. “He’s fine, just – dammit, Davis.” A heavy sigh billowed her lips, then: “You and I just got back together, what? Three days ago? And between school and everything, you and I haven’t had time… We needed a night like this.”

It was true. This most recent “break” of theirs had been a rough one and longer than any previous up to now. Almost an entire two months had passed where they barely spoke a single word to each other, only interacting when strictly necessary for Digimon matters, or the occasional late-night message over their D-Terminals.

Davis slumped back too.

“Tonight was a good night.” He said lamely.

She just nodded.

They sat in silence for a minute as DemiVeemon finished rummaging for food. He eventually waddled past them back to Davis’s bedroom, a warm bowl nearly as big as he was balanced on his head. All dreams of boats forgotten for the time being. Whether or not he had heard the beginning of their spat, Davis wasn’t sure. Regardless, he now wished his partner had stayed to break some of the tension that hung heavy in the room.

What he really wanted was another drink.

What he needed to do was apologize.

Instead, he lurched forward, propping himself on one arm as he reached over Yolei. She opened her mouth, ready to rebuke him again, until he reached past her and snatched the clunky laptop that sat on the end table.

It was five pounds heavier and just as many years outdated for anything Yolei would have considered satisfactory, but Davis had got it for a good price in a resale shop and desperately needed a computer for school. He grunted as he settled back in his seat and flipped open the lid, determined to find a way to break the awkward silence.

“Can I – um, play some music?”

He was already scrolling through his rather extensive music library, not waiting for an answer, but Yolei nodded anyways.

“Just no dub-step, please for the love of God.”

He chuckled and something in her chest unwound. He eventually settled on something, and with a double-click the room was filed with smooth guitar and steady drums. They listened, Davis nodding his head in beat and Yolei watching him.

“The speakers on that thing are awful.”

“Yeah.”

The song transitioned, adding more varied guitar and aggressive vocals.

“I haven’t heard this one before.”

“Ken showed it to me.”

“It’s good.”

“Yeah.”

As the song started to fade, Davis reached, without looking, and rubbed a line up and down Yolei’s thigh. She unfolded her arms, but before she could move further towards him, he was lifting the laptop from his lap and moving it into her’s. He stood up.

“Gotta take a piss.” He muttered, trudging towards the bathroom, tripping over the same pair of cleats as he went.

Yolei watched him leave, long nails tapping on the plastic laptop chassis. After the bathroom door closed and she heard him emptying his bladder into the toilet through the thin wall, she sighed and began flicking through his music.

She had gotten a little too defensive earlier and she knew it.

The truth was, she did feel a little guilty for parting ways with her Digimon, even if it was only for a night. Despite the lack of crises in the Digital World needing their intervention, it sometimes felt like she was shirking responsibility by turning more attention to other aspects of her life.  

But she was older. She was busy – they all were.

Breaking up with Davis a few months ago had been a mistake, a rash decision after a stupid fight.

Drawing a good night out by coming home with him and arguing tonight had been a mistake. The wounds from the breakup were still fairly fresh. They couldn’t exactly just pickup where they left off.

Hell, maybe getting back together had been the mistake.

She wasn’t even reading the list of songs anymore as she scrolled. Her ring finger tapped a little too quickly on the arrow keys and the music program locked up from overestimation. Grumbling, she tapped more—even though she knew better—and the window was suddenly minimized, and then she was confronted with the egregious mess of folders on Davis’s desktop.

What immediately caught her eye was the folder labeled ‘Sexy Sexy Sexy’, and with that, any thought of innocently returning Davis’s music library vanished up in smoke.

Eyebrow quirked, she clicked and opened the oddly-named folder without hesitation. Of course she knew that most every guy had that particular folder stashed away. Having it on the desktop was definitely bold though.

What she saw though almost made her guffaw, and she struggled to steel herself.

The folder contained pictures upon pictures of different styles of ramen, most likely purloined from some high-end bistro’s online menu, judging by the nearly indecent high quality and their tiny watermarks in the corner of each. Nearly every photo was accompanied with an adjacent text document, containing what Yolei astutely guessed were Davis’s attempts at parsing out the recipe by looks alone.

This ramen folder was probably more organized and cared for than the one he used for homework, and a quick visit back to the desktop and to a directory simply dubbed ‘hw’ confirmed this.

Yolei glanced at the bathroom door. Things inside had gone silent, but if history and the number of sliders he ate at the bar were reliable indicators, Davis would probably be preoccupied for a few more minutes. She had plenty of time.

Yolei cruised through the rest of his desktop in record time, finding nothing of note outside of a few folders containing game roms, a second folder of his own home-brewed ramen recipes, and much to her surprise: an alarming amount of digitized Shoujo manga, definitely pirated. She filed that away for teasing ammunition later.

Now, to find the really good stuff.

Her practiced fingers danced over the keyboard, running a shell command to search for recently accessed items. Buried in several sub-folders was one entry that caught her eye, a single folder with a timestamp indicating it was opened just an hour or so before he’d picked her up for their date earlier that evening.

The folder was named ‘yolei’.

A swirl of emotions flooded her as she opened the file with her namesake, and she found it was a dumping ground of yet more photographs.

Instead of gratuitous snapshots of food however, they all featured her.

Yolei immediately recognized a series of selfies she’d sent him herself – some as early as when they had first started their on-again/off-again relationship years ago. It had never occurred to her that Davis would be the type to save them anywhere but his phone. It was surprisingly sentimental of him.

An image of Davis lying in his bed, clicking through and lovingly studying a slideshow of her, sprung to mind and she felt a warm swell of affection for him. She had done something similar on occasion, when their respective university work had kept them apart for multiple days on end.

There were other styles of pictures too. As she scrolled further, she found photos they had taken together at her high school graduation ceremony, shots of them at a beach trip, and one from her recent birthday where he’d tried to wrestle her face into the cake. She couldn’t help but laugh quietly.

She came to a stop at one photo in particular, the image’s age betrayed by how grainy it’s quality was.

They couldn’t have been older than thirteen. Davis was round-faced and grinning in the middle, one arm slung over Ken to his left and the other over a mildly miffed Kari. T.K. stood on Kari’s other side (Yolei had forgotten about that silly hat he used to wear) and on the opposite edge stood Yolei herself, all spindly limbs and thick, round glasses—stained brilliant white from the flash of the camera.

Their Digimon partners stood huddled around their feet and Yolei felt a fresh pang when her eyes fell on Hawkmon.

She scrolled further, perhaps more quickly than necessary, but then came to a screeching halt.

“Bastard.” She hissed, an angry blush spreading across her cheeks.

“What?” Davis had somehow exited the bathroom and was halfway back to his seat. Yolei had been so engrossed in her recent discovery she hadn’t even heard him flush.

Without missing a beat, she twirled the laptop around and pointed the screen at him accusatory.

“What the hell is this?”

To his credit, Davis had learned since the gum smuggling attempt in his youth that it was best not to lie when he’d be caught.

“Oh,” His mouth formed a perfect O-shape. Now he was blushing too. “I can explain-”

“You better!” She rattled the laptop at him, the hinge wobbling dangerously. “I told you to delete these, Davis!”

It had been her one demand when they had broken up most recently. He had listed several himself, including the unconditional return of the multiple sweater-shirts she’d swiped from his dorm. She considered this a devastating blow, as they made the perfect sleeping shirts in her opinion. But to be fair, he actually needed them more than she did, his winter wardrobe being sparse as it was.

“I did delete them!” He shot back.

“Oh—that is so obviously not true.” She flipped the laptop back around so she could look at them again. The photos were definitely there, present and accounted for, completely not deleted. Her eyes were flashing as she glared back up at him. “Why did you keep these?!”

“Look, you specifically asked me to delete from my phone,” He explained. “And that’s what I did.”

“Oh, so you thought you could keep these on a technicality, huh?”

“We’re back together now so why does it matter?” He threw his hands in the air. “They’re not even that bad of pictures.”

“They’re disgusting.”

Davis chose not to argue with that. Certainly most of the photos could be construed as less-than appealing.

His laptop currently contained the only copies in existence of seventeen candid photos of Yolei, caught in various stages of sleep, sickness, and general foulness.

It had started as kind of sweet. On one of the nights she had slept over he’d woken first, and had snapped a quick picture of her face as she slept rather serenely, messy hair splayed over his pillow. When he’d showed her the picture later, he’d called her beautiful. She made a show of rolling her eyes, but smiled and blushed all the same.

For the second photo, he’d caught her while she was trying to subtly pick her nose.

It had kind of snowballed from there.

“Why were you even going through my laptop anyways?” He demanded in turn.

“I was looking for music.” Yolei turned her nose up matter-of-factly.

“In my pictures? Yeah, Right.”

“You’re missing the point.” She waved her hand as if his words were a fly buzzing by her ears. “This is a major breach of privacy.”

“Now that, you’re right about.” He stepped forward finally and reached for his laptop, but she pulled it to her chest.

“I mean my privacy, you jackass.”

“I took those, so they’re actually mine.”

“But they’re not pictures of you, are they?” She looked down, scrutinizing one of her in an unseemly, homemade guacamole facemask, filename: ‘she-hulk’. She had seen all these pictures before at one point or another, usually accompanied with some gentle ribbing at her expense, but seeing the collage now felt entirely different. “Davis, how could I ever trust you again? You promised me that you’d get rid of these.”

She was right of course, and that caused the words to sting all the more. Davis was near a hundred percent sober now, but his vision still blurred. Hot tears of shame, and a heaping dose of frustration, pricking his eyes. He fought and managed to keep his voice level, mostly:

“Yeah, well... how am I supposed to just go around like it’s nothing when you could be sniffing through my drawers every time I turn my back?”

She didn’t have an answer for that.

A half minute passed where neither said anything. The music from the laptop was still playing passively, shuffling through Davis’s library automatically and currently playing some upbeat video game OST Yolei didn’t recognize. Eventually he moved and sank down onto the futon with her again, a few inches of space between them, and both their eyes settled on the gallery of photos still on display on the glowing screen in Yolei’s arms.

Davis remembered telling his friends oh so recently that he and Yolei were back together. Tai and Izzy had exchanged a quick glance, a silent exchange of barely-contained, mild exasperation. He imaged them placing bets on how long he and Yolei would last this time and pictured money exchanging hands when he broke the news that they were surely once again parting ways-

“That was the most sick I’d ever been in my entire life.” Yolei muttered suddenly, indicating one of the pictures. “I literally thought I was dying.”

He chuckled despite himself.

“Your nose is so red there.”

“Yeah, the tissues from I-Mart were like sandpaper. They still are.”

“Red looks good on you though.” Their eyes met then, and Davis continued quickly, stammering slightly. “I mean, not many people can pull off crimson flight pants, but- um… you did.. for years.”

Her face had an unreadable quality to it, and it seemed as if she might respond with something, but then she turned away and began scrolling through his computer again. He noticed her eyes weren’t focused though and he didn’t have it in him to try and dissuade her from searching still. There was nothing else to find anyway.

“Why do you even have this folder?” She asked, eyes forward.

He debated with himself for a few seconds, then decided on the truth.

“I like… having photos. You know, of you.” He admitted, rubbing the back of his neck. “And when we broke up last time, and you told me to delete all those ugly pics of you, I did.” Yolei’s mouth opened to object, but he continued before she could interject. “I really did. I honestly just forgot that they were on my laptop with everything else too, and when I saw them later, I just… couldn’t get rid of them.” He stared at her profile, tracing with his eyes the lines of her cheek, the bump on her nose. “I really thought this last time was the real deal.”

“Me too.”

“Do you think we should break up again?”

“I don’t know.” Even though they weren’t quite touching, Yolei felt him stiffen by her side. She closed her eyes, and said her next words to the blackness of her eyelids. “I don’t want to.”

He breathed out, the air leaving him as if released from a balloon.

“God, me neither.”

She twisted on her seat, opening her eyes to meet his gaze.

“I’m sorry for looking through your laptop. I shouldn’t have done that.”

“It’s okay.” He responded quickly.

Yolei continued anyways.

“If I’m being honest too, I was looking to see what kind of porn you had saved on here.”

“What?” Davis balked. “Seriously? Why would you think I had… that stuff… on there? I don’t even…” He shook his head, the image of incredulity. “I don’t even watch that.” Yolei watched him steadily, a single brow raised. “What? I don’t!”

“Sure. We’ll talk about that some other time.” She was only half teasing.

The promise of ‘some other time’ bolstered his spirits quickly. He eyed his laptop in her hands, suddenly loathing the pathetic thing and how he’d used it to hide away the secret vestiges of what he had once thought would be all that remained of his and Yolei’s relationship. She had owned up to her transgressions.

What he needed to do was apologize.

Standing, he pulled the laptop from her slack grip before she could argue, and looking her dead in the eyes, gripped each half of the computer and snapped it in half along the hinge. The music died with a pitiful wheeze and splinters of plastic flew everywhere, a few bouncing off Yolei’s glasses to disappear into the fibers of the rug at her feet.

“Davis!”

“I shouldn’t have kept those pictures.” He discarded the broken halves of the computer, speaking passionately. “I want us to start over fresh, okay? I don’t want any dumb secrets or anything like that to cause any problems. I want you to trust me, because I trust you – I really do.” He swallowed hard. “I still love you, Yolei.”

Her eyes shone and laughter bubbled in her throat.

“But you computer-”

“I needed a new one anyways. You can help me pick one out!”

“Yeah, but,” She wiped her eyes clear. “What about all the other pictures? My graduation, the Digimon?”

“I still have those on my phone, no worries.”

“And your homework?”

“My homework?” It took a second for Davis’s brain to catch up. His eyes passed from one broken piece of the laptop to the other, then his hands rose to bury themselves in his hair. “Oh shit, shit. My mid-term paper is saved on there...”

Yolei wanted to laugh, she wanted to cry, but instead she reached out and pulled him to her. She gently unwound his fingers from his hair and twined them with hers. She kissed him and kept pulling until he was climbing onto the battered futon with her, then over her.

In the morning, she would take off the back panel of his broken computer and pull the hard drive. She’d help him recover his homework and maybe, just maybe, a couple of the more agreeable photos that she would allow him to keep.

For now though, he didn’t need any of the digital keepsakes. As far as either of them were concerned, any number of pictures paled in comparison to the real thing.

For now though, she held him close and breathed in his ear.

“I love you too.”

When DemiVeemon bounced back into the living area sometime later, he found the pair asleep and huddled under a blanket together on the futon. The small Digimon took in the mess on the floor, the couple’s mussed hair, their slow and steady breaths, chests rising as one. Of course, he had heard every word of their argument from Davis’s bedroom, but he was used to the ruckus by now and too preoccupied with his noodles to care. Anyways, no doubt there would be many such squabbles in the future for him to witness.

He decided to let them sleep for now and bounded to the kitchen in search of a mid-night snack. He would just have tell Davis about his dream some other time.

[faces-in-unexpected-places]

Hello from the Studio!

My move is just about over! Thank god!!!

Does anybody know what it feels like to be in a perpetual state of living out of a duffle bag, cleaning your house, moving your furniture, getting rid of your furniture, breaking the bank on NEW furniture and then going fuckin crazy while BUILDING said furniture? And doing this for literally a month and a half??? All while starting a new job at the same time that you only got 4 weeks of training before the old employee left? Most days, I was working 40 hours a week, then coming home at 5:30 to clean, move and build until 11 or 12 at night. And then spending the weekends doing all of that all day long OTL

In case the context clues were too subtle, I wouldn't recommend it lmao.

BUT I am fairly certain it has FINALLY come to an end. I am writing you from Abbey's and my personal Creativity Studio that we converted the second bedroom into. This is the place where she can work on all of her different kinds of art work, and I can make/record/play music, write my story and play games! I ordered myself an amazing new desk, wireless mouse + pad, and keyboard. I've got my guitars and my bass mounted on the wall so I can finally clean them up and play them, since I barely ever touched my music when I was in grad school. Speaking of which, about half way through grad school, someone dumped an old TV/monitor by the curb with a "free" sign on it, so I nabbed it up knowing that I would use it one day, when I actually could have a stable life and dedicate time to my hobbies again. And here I am!!

I found a way to half-revive my MacBook that crapped out on me AT THE BEGINNING OF THE PANDEMIC WHEN EVERYTHING SHUT DOWN AND ALSO EVERYONE BOUGHT OUT ALL THE COMPUTERS EVERYWHERE FOR SOME REASON? Gotta love that. It was fine though, I found a cheap laptop PC to get me through the rest of school, obviously, lmao.

This computer is basically a zombie at this point because it has died twice over, and I keep finding weird-ass ways to bring it back to life and racking my brain to remember my ancient passwords so I can access old files...... I should probably just back it up to my external hard drive. But then I wouldn't be able to generate an endless stream of problems for my Ti-Ne to constantly work through. That is one of my strong-suits after all lmao.

ANYWAY, tonight is my first night actually breaking in some of the equipment. There are still some finishing touches that I'll need for various parts of the room (and the rest of the house), but it is livable for now, so why not enjoy it a little? And I mean that it is literally livable -- we bought a daybed so that the studio can double as a guest room, if we have visitors who want to stay for a few days. Which is a good thing, seeing as how my mom is coming down to see us in October.

Kind of a rambly update, but there it is. I have so many things to try to catch up on, I don't even know where to start!!

[tabloidtoc]

National Enquirer, November 16

You can buy a copy of this issue for your very own at my eBay store: https://www.ebay.com/str/bradentonbooks

Cover: Jeffrey Epstein’s madam Ghislaine Maxwell’s nights with Prince Andrew and teen Virginia Roberts Giuffre

Page 2: Brad Pitt kicked married galpal Nicole Poturalski to the curb after getting flak from his ex Angelina Jolie -- Brad’s relationship with Nicole hit the skids after Brad decided he needed to shore up his image during his ongoing custody battle with Angie and his focus right now is to get his dad image back on track and give Angie no more ammo to fling back at him

Page 3: Tiger Woods’ romance with Erica Herman has gone off course over legal troubles and wedding pressure and bickering over where to live and Tiger is so fed up he’s considering ditching his nagging girlfriend in Florida and moving back to his native California -- Erica’s been pressuring him to put a ring on it ever since she moved into his Jupiter Island mansion and that’s something he just won’t do and she’s already taken over his household buying new furniture and remodeling the master bath and building a new closet and hiring a gourmet chef -- California is looking better and better to Tiger who only moved to Florida to play on its tough Bermuda grass which helped improve his swing but now Tiger’s ex Elin lives in Florida with their two kids 

Page 4: Miranda Lambert is scoffing at ex Blake Shelton’s newly announced engagement to Gwen Stefani and she’s convinced Blake’s third walk down the aisle has failure written all over it because she thinks Blake’s bad to the bone and this marriage will wind up being a total disaster and after the hell Blake put her through Miranda can’t imagine his life with Gwen would be any different, lifelong bachelor Simon Cowell has had a change of heart since his horrific August accident and he’s finally ready to tie the knot with baby mama Lauren Silverman -- after spinal surgery to repair his broken back the entertainment mogul feels lucky to be alive and walking and the one constant in his difficult rehab after surgery has been Lauren and he wants to pay her back with a ring 

Page 5: Train-wreck Wendy Williams’ wacky behavior has TV producers scrambling behind the scenes to find her replacement after her unhinged performance on a recent episode of her talk show where she slurred her words and rambled incoherently -- there had been a hope a chatfest helmed by Nick Cannon could be a safety net should the daytime diva who spent a stint in a sober living house last year not be able to continue hosting but plans for that were pushed back after the comic made anti-Semitic rants in a podcast -- they also tried Jerry O’Connell when Wendy was out for three weeks last year but he tanked with viewers -- Wendy’s a mess and it remains to be seen how long producers will be able to put up with her problems before they decide to pull the plug 

Page 6: Grey’s Anatomy star Ellen Pompeo hinted that she may be making her final rounds -- Ellen who has starred on the show since 2005 and makes $20 million a year admitted she’s considering slipping out of her scrubs after the current season 17 but her departure could spell the end of the beloved series and show creator Shonda Rhimes has said it’s unlikely the show could continue without her but Ellen has also expressed her desire to spend more time with her husband and their three children

Page 7: Mariah Carey’s brother Morgan blasted her memoir as filled with lies and distortions and he’s considering legal action -- the book called Morgan and sister Alison her ex-brother and ex-sister and Mariah wrote Morgan had a long history of violence and when she was six he slammed their mother into a wall -- Mariah also wrote her siblings and mother were heartless in terms of dealing with her as a human being and once she got famous they started treating her like an ATM with a wig on but Morgan is fighting back and looking to hire a lawyer

Page 8: Reese Witherspoon’s marriage to Jim Toth is in the muck after the stunning collapse of his new business venture and tensions are mounting in the Hollywood power couple’s already troubled union now that the streaming service Quibi crumbled after less than six months leaving content acquisition president Jim out of work while Reese’s star continues to rise and there’s a real balance of power that’s been building up and that’s put a serious strain on the relationship -- living in quarantine added to the stress between them as Reese has been holed up with her two kids with ex Ryan Phillippe Ava and Deacon and her son Tennessee with Jim at the family’s ranch in Malibu

Page 9: Dementia patient Kenny Rogers cut his three adult children out of his $250 million will and now sources fear the late country legend could have been tricked into signing the document -- Kenny left everything to his 16-year-old twins sons with fifth wife Wanda and the will also stated it was his intent to specifically exclude his daughter Carole with his first wife and son Kenny Jr. with third wife and son Christopher with fourth wife and their issue as beneficiaries of his estate -- Kenny Sr. would never disown his own children according to the source especially since the singer’s son Kenny Jr. is incorrectly referred to Kenny Rogers III throughout the will -- the wording is not like Kenny Sr. and something is not right and his older kids are thinking about contesting the will 

Page 10: Hot Shots -- Kate McKinnon shot a Saturday Night live skit in NYC, Sophia Bush hit the road in L.A. with her co-pilot pup Maggie, pregnant Jinger Duggar Vuolo in Venice with daughter Felicity, Heidi Klum walking the streets in her native Germany, Snoop Dogg saluted young rappers as he accepted BET’s I Am Hip Hop award 

Page 11: Unwitting Jennifer Aniston and Gerard Butler once dabbled in the secret sex cult NXIVM -- the organization masqueraded as a self-help group but in 2017 it was exposed as a pyramid scheme for founder Keith Raniere who forced high-ranking female recruits to become his sex slaves -- in 2010 Jen and Gerry who were dating at the time wound up at one of the introductory seminars but they were turned off by the level of commitment expected and never returned -- they thought it was just a networking opportunity and had no idea what they were getting themselves into, cash-crunched Gwyneth Paltrow is facing hard times like everyone else and is looking to change her free-spending ways -- the belt-tightening caused by the coronavirus pandemic has even hit her lifestyle empire Goop causing her to shut down the London branch and make hard choices for the future -- Gwyneth may be worth $100 million but she and husband Brad Falchuk spend money like it’s going out of style on private jets they use on a whim and they own a fleet of fancy cars and pay steep salaries for staff who are at their beck and call 24/7 and it’s all draining their bank accounts -- they’re looking at making cuts across the board from personal trainers and chefs and drivers to the masseurs and beauticians who come to their house several times a week -- plus the couple believe it’s a bad look for them to be living so high on the hog when the rest of the world is suffering during the pandemic

Page 12: Straight Shuter -- Angelina Jolie spent years developing her own version of the Hollywood classic Cleopatra and now she’s livid that Gal Gadot has stolen the Egyptian queen -- Angie’s dream was to play Cleopatra the role that made Elizabeth Taylor an icon and it was to be the part that won Angie an Academy Award for Best Actress and now that’s over thanks to Gal who will be playing the Queen of the Nile instead, after ABC scrapped plans to honor Regis Philbin with a prime-time tribute Jimmy Kimmel insisted on honoring Regis on Who Wants to Be a Millionaire?, MSNBC talking head Rachel Maddow is fleeing New York for her Massachusetts farm after hanging a $2.3 million price tag on her NYC pad but Rachel didn’t want potential buyers looking through all the personal stuff at her apartment so all the personal pictures and books and clothing and everything else was shipped out and replaced with staged furniture, Ariel Winter and her dog (picture) 

Page 13: Ailing Joni Mitchell opened up about how she’s still struggling to get back to her old self five years after a debilitating brain bleed -- after Joni was found unresponsive in her Bel-Air home in 2015 she said she was forced to relearn everyday tasks because the aneurysm took away her speech and her ability to walk and although she’s showing slow improvement she hasn’t been writing or playing the guitar or the piano, Randy Travis is defying all the odds as he plans the greatest comeback in country music history as he is making amazing progress after suffering a massive 2013 stroke that most believed would end his career forever and he was given just 1% chance of survival and even after he pulled through doctors believed he would be bedridden and unable to speak -- instead his grueling rehab efforts have miraculously put him on the road to realizing his dream of returning to the spotlight -- some of his motivation is financial; last year he sold his Nashville home and released his memoir which was fueled by his need to pay medical expenses after years of not being able to perform

Page 14: Hollywood Hookups -- Channing Tatum and Jessie J have split again, Cole Sprouse and Reina Silva dating, Kate Beckinsale and Goody Grace split 

Page 15: Ariana Grande is raising eyebrows with her raunchy new record Positions -- the former squeaky-clean Nickelodeon star who has been dating real estate agent Dalton Gomez spouted off X-rated odes to an unnamed lover on the LP, six months after sidelining her marriage to former quarterback Jay Cutler Kristin Cavallari admitted there are good days and bad days but insisted it’s been nice to be able to focus on herself and figure out who she is now and what she ultimately wants out of life, hotel heiress Kathy Hilton is joining The Real Housewives of Beverly Hills as a friend of the main cast which includes her half-sister Kyle Richards

Page 16: Crime 

Page 17: On Drew Barrymore’s talk show a psychic guest channeled the spirit of one of the host’s former in-laws but the man in question is very much alive -- medium Anna Raimondi told Drew she sensed the aura of a judge causing Drew to burst into tears and named David a relative of her ex-husband Will Kopelman claiming he’d passed but Judge David Kopelman is alive and still going strong -- Will slammed Anna was a submental hack and said he was surprised that Drew chose to give oxygen to someone like that

Page 18: American Life 

Page 20: Cover Story -- Prince Andrew is desperate to quash explosive testimony by his pedophile pal Jeffrey Epstein’s accused madam Ghislaine Maxwell but the socialite’s second secret deposition is torpedoing his return from royal exile -- after Ghislaine danced around details of her relationship with the disgraced Duke of York in testimony released a few weeks ago Andrew is sweating bullets about her second grilling under oath which contains details of their intimate friendship and nights with Epstein’s teen sex slave Virginia Roberts Giuffre 

Page 22: Don McLean viciously slammed ex-wife Patrisha Shnier as the worst person her ever knew but in their ongoing war of words she maintains he was abusive to her -- Don is still bitter over a 2016 domestic incident at their home in Maine that landed him behind bars and led to divorce after 30 years of marriage

Page 26: Matthew McConaughey confessed he nearly turned his back on Tinseltown to be a wildlife guide like late Crocodile Hunter Steve Irwin -- he made a splash in a string of blockbuster rom-coms in the ‘90s and ‘00s but he was eager to move on to meatier movies and even passed on a $14.5 million paycheck in 2010 to seek more substantial roles and the struggle left him considering other careers such as a wildlife guide, Jamie Foxx has been crushed by the death of his beloved sister DeOndra Dixon who was born with Down syndrome

Page 28: Good Catch -- Bachelor stars who are still up for grabs -- Jon Hamm, Owen Wilson, Drew Carey

Page 29: Benicio Del Toro, Ryan Seacrest, Matthew Perry, some stars seem to say I do at the drop of the hat -- Larry King, Jerry Lee Lewis, Billy Bob Thornton 

Page 32: Olivia Munn was caught on camera flashing what looked like engagement bling on her left ring finger as she exited a gym following a morning workout in Los Angeles but she reportedly broke up with boyfriend Tucker Roberts last year leaving fans wondering who bought the stunning sparkler 

Page 36: Health Watch 

Page 42: Red Carpet -- Michelle Pfeiffer 

Page 45: Spot the Differences -- Allison Janney on Mom 

Page 47: Odd List 

[zankivich]

The Arrangement: CEO’s Son/Dom!Shawn x Black Sub Reader Chapter 14

a/n: i told you I wasn’t good at angst. 2-3 more chapters and then we out this bitch tbh. Hope you’re enjoying the final words. If there were ever a time to tell me you fuck with the fic this would probably be it tbh. I’m almost done. K bye. Also if you wouldn’t mind supporting at ko-fi that would be really dope. The kid is broke and has to go to grad school somehow. 

*Shawn’s point of view*

He can’t sleep without her. Can’t eat or make music or workout. It all hurts. It hurts more than he could ever possibly imagine. And he couldn’t get the sound of her voice breaking when she told him it was over out of his head. She loved him. And he loved her. But it wasn’t enough. Losing her is like losing everything that ever mattered to him. It situates her differently in his mind. He thought that she was everything to him, but it wasn’t until he had to go without her that he actually knew what it meant and what it felt like. It was like she controlled his heart beat, his lungs, even his mind. Without her there to keep him going, it all feels pointless. And so he cries a lot more than he had in years, and he reminds himself that she had been the one to tell him to get over himself and get in touch with his emotions. She had showed him it wasn’t bad to feel, and yet she never could have prepared him for this.

He tortures himself with it too. He replays the words, remembers the exact cadence of her voice so soft and muted and full of hurt. It’s over. It doesn’t matter. Goodbye. He never in a million years could have seen this one coming. All that’s left is for it to kill him slowly by the hour, when he reflects on what it means to lose her. To be without her was like not existing at all, but with a shit ton more pain.

He’s lying in bed on another guilt trip when his bedroom door opens. It’s Tiffany this time instead of his dad. It’s probably for the best. Given his current state, he surely would have lunged.

“Shawn,” She hummed softly. “It’s time to get out of bed.”

He cuddled her pillow a little closer to his chest and found that it didn’t smell like her anymore. And he had this moment where he wondered if this was the beginning of the end. Would he start to lose the parts of her that meant the most to him, that had become so salient? Would it be like she was never here at all? His chest tightened considerably and his eyes watered.

“No.” He mumbled.

“Look I--I’m not quite sure what’s going on here, or why your father has suddenly had a change in heart but...I’m here to take you to your contract signing, Shawn. This is literally everything that you’ve dreamed up for your entire life. Everything changes today, if you just get out of bed.”

The only thing he can think of is the last night he stayed over at her place. He played her a song he wrote about her. He kept messing it up because he didn’t wanna look away from her, but his fingers hadn’t quite memorized the chords yet. Everytime he messed up, he would just smile at her and eventually she asked him what he was doing. He told her:

I can’t help but look at you when we’re in a room together. I wanna always be looking at you, honey.

“I’m not signing, Tiff.”

“Excuse me?”

“You heard me. Tell dad I’m not signing and on top of that I quit.”

“Shawn. Now look I understand you’re upset but you need to be very strategic about what your next move is, here! You know what your father is capable of.”

His eyes drifted over to his nightstand where the watch that she bought him for christmas still sat. He’d never been clearer about anything in his whole life.

“Look I’m sorry he made you drive all the way over here, but my stance is final. Fuck his money, fuck his power, and fuck him. I want out.” He whispered tears threatening to choke him again.

He closes his eyes and pinch the bridge of his nose between his fingers. He can’t take it anymore.

“He’s already taken everything that matters. He can’t hurt me anymore.”

He rolled over away from her, glaring angrily at the wall until the sound of his apartment door closing rang in his ears. He goes back to counting the minutes without her. It isn’t enough to keep him preoccupied from the longing.

***

*y/n’s point of view*

It doesn’t feel the same. None of it. Your sheets are too rough. The shower is too cold. The eggs you make in the morning don’t taste the same. It’s lonely. Like devastatingly lonely. His curls don’t tickle your neck with morning kisses. You can’t hear him play guitar on the couch while you shower. His cologne doesn’t dominate your bedroom. It’s like he’s not there, and it’s like maybe he never was.

It is...so incredibly painful at first. You can’t even breathe without sobbing. But the worst part is that even when the tears dry, he’s still not there. And all you’re left with is a world that feels a little duller. Perhaps that’s the worst part. It’s not a catastrophe. No one’s died. No one’s in harm’s way. So the world keeps turning and everyone keeps living while inside you’re breaking down. Despite your world being absolutely rocked in every sense of the word, everyone else continued on as if nothing had ever happened.

You’ve got nothing that matters before you anymore. It’s not until you wake up one morning and you skip a flight to meet with Normani in Brazil that you realize the most painful thing of all. He had meant more to you than anything else, even your career, even the power, and the work. The day you’d rather lie at home missing him than working, is the day that you know you lost the most important thing in your whole entire world. And worse than that, you’d had the audacity to give him up for free. To a white man nonetheless. Your ancestors were surely singing negro spirituals from the skies.

The worst part is the waiting, because you weren’t quite sure what you were waiting for. Would they start with a single? Or perhaps a photoshoot? An interview on one of the Jimmys. You knew what you would’ve done, but Manny had a completely different style when it came to management and roll out. If Shawn was signed, he was going to take the media by storm without a doubt. The girls would certainly love him. Hell so would the gays and the non-binary folks too. He was so cute and fluffy. Your cute and fluffy! But not anymore. Somehow you had walked into your office ready to fight the whole world if it meant the two of you got to stay together. Not so much.

The fact that Tiana manages to get into your apartment must mean things are bad. She had a key to your apartment the way an assistant that makes your life run should. However you had an unspoken rule between the two of you that she shouldn’t enter your space without you knowing. Everyone knew how important your space was to you, how much being home needed to exist outside of work. For her to enter unannounced probably meant she thought you were dead. If only it were that simple.

The door slid open interrupting the mood of playing a playlist that Shawn had made for you back in a time where there hadn’t been a world of space between the two of you.

“Oh sis…” Tiana whimpered. “I’ve never seen you like this.”

You rolled your eyes into your pillow. “Well get a good look. It’s probably my permanent state.”

“Is this...is this a playlist he made you? Baby that is some middle school shit. We have to snap you out of it.”

Tiana slipped off her shoes and crawled into bed with you. You almost mounted a fight, afraid that she might take away the last of the smell of him. But then you remember that smell had left long ago. So, you fall a little more pathetically into her arms.

“I don’t wanna snap out of it, Ti. I don’t wanna lose what little I have left.” You whispered.

“What does that mean?”

“It means I deserve to mourn him.”

She snorted. “Y/n, he didn’t die.”

“No, that’s not...I mean I get to mourn what we were. It was--it was the best thing I ever had. And I lost it. I had to give it up so that he could be everything he’s ever wanted, and that means something. I get to hold onto it okay? Don’t take that away from me too. I already lost him, don’t make me lose him all over again.”

You could hear the lack of life in your voice in your own ears. And if the look of worry on her face is anything to go off, it must not be good. But it hurts too much for you to care.

“Okay. Okay, we can be alright with that.”

You nodded and snuggled a little deeper into her arms. She held for a while in silence. And it didn’t necessarily make you feel better, but it was nice to not have to shoulder the weight alone for a little while. If only for a little while.

***

You’re back at work the first time he reaches out. Work is still work and it still matters and you still love it. It’s just that you don’t get to take lunch breaks with him anymore. You don’t get the random phone calls to get you through the afternoon, or the dinner plans to look forward to at the end of the day. And it’s not the prospect of being with someone. It’s not being lonely versus being with someone. It’s him. You miss him. His laugh. That damn chest hair when he shows more cleavage than you did. The gravelly sound of his voice in the morning. And the way that he’d rather hold you in bed for hours than do anything else. You had never been loved so vastly and so wholesomely in your life. And here you were just trying to get by without it.

Your phone goes off while you’re in a branding meeting for fragrances. The only reason you paid any attention to it at all was because...it was a branding meeting for fragrances. Honeslty, who the fuck cares? When your eyes trail down to the notification in your lap and see his name you jump. It’s completely erratic, and you couldn’t explain it if you tried. Your heart rate spikes and your stomach is just as fluttery as ever. If there had ever been even the inkling that you could get over this fool, that quickly went straight out the window along with apparently any impulse that might stop you from opening it.

Shawn: Hi.

Shawn: idk if there’s like a rule somewhere that tells me how many days I’m supposed to go before being able to talk to you again. Is there a rule?

You shouldn’t answer. It went against everything that you’d said to yourself when you made the decision to leave. There had to be a clean break, or neither of you would make it out whole. You couldn’t answer him. You couldn’t.

y/n: I don’t think there’s a rule. But it’s probably not a good idea.

Shawn: Yea probably. It’s just that I walked past your favorite coffee shop today, and I went inside and bought you a dirty chai only to walk out and realized I couldn’t bring it to you.

There’s a sharp inhale as you try to breathe through the pain of a memory that might never be forgotten. It’s dumb. It’s coffee. Except for nothing is just anything with him. Coffee isn’t just coffee. It’s mornings waking up to him crawling into bed with you and handing you the cup because it’s the only free time in your schedule for the day. It’s shared bagels and fruit and kissing each other on the way out the door to go your separate ways. It’s adventures on the saturday mornings to find a coffee shop you haven’t been to before. It’s a whole slice of your life together that just doesn’t exist anymore.

Shawn: And then I spent the next two and a half hours of my life writing a song about how pissed I was at dirty chai. And instead of being mad at myself for wasting my life away I thought I could just talk to you instead.

You laughed, as he no doubt expected, and had to apologize to all the professional business people for not being professional at all. But hey, it was funny. And it was the first time you got to laugh since he left. Or you sent him away.

y/n: you’re gonna get me in trouble. I’m in a meeting, I can’t laugh.

Shawn: fuck them. I miss you. I just wanted you to know that. I miss you so much.

y/n: I miss you too. More than you can even imagine.

You end up in the bathroom in the middle of the day crying your eyes out. You don’t text each other again.

*Shawn’s point of view*

He gets called into his dad’s office more times than he can count. And first he says fuck it. Fuck him. Fuck his money. Fuck everything. But then his card gets declined at the gas station, and he figures it was time for daddy to finally pull the strings. The least he could do was go meet the prick physically to watch him do it.

He shows up in skinny jeans and an old gym t-shirt just to piss the guy off. His dad had never liked him in anything less than a hand tailored suit, and the thought of pissing him off one final time was too good to pass up.

Tiffany is waiting for him just like always when he gets there only this time she’s a little less than her perfectly controlled self. Her fingers twitch at her sides as she walks him back toward his father’s office, her face anxious and stressed.

“Tiff,” He attempted a weak version of a smile. “How are you?”

She shrugged. “I haven’t been this stressed at this job since your father told P Diddy to go fuck himself with a twenty-five thousand dollar bottle of scotch in his hand.”

“Yea? Well I’ll be out of your hair shortly and then things should go back to normal.”

“Shawn he...he’s pulling out all the stops. He has zero intentions of letting you leave.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Huh? He really thinks he can convince me to stay?”

“Yea he does. Please just...don’t give him a heart attack okay?” She asked as they stopped at the door.

He snorted and pulled harshly at the door without knocking.

“No promises, Tiff.”

In his office, his father is still just as pristine as always. He’s wearing a suit and standing at the ceiling to floor length windows of his office, hands in his pockets looking out like he’s contemplating the world. What a douche. It’s gross.

“You wanted to see me?” He sighed already over this conversation.

His dad turned to him and smiled for the first time since he was probably an infant.

“My boy! Why don’t you have a seat? Can I get you anything? Water, that kombucha shit you kids are into nowadays?”

“No, dad. I’m not interested. Why don’t you explain to me what part of my resignation wasn’t concrete enough. Tell me how I can make it clearer for you.”

His dad snorted. “Well of course you can’t quit.”

“...No I--I very much can. And I did dad. I no longer work for you. You don’t own me anymore.”

“Oh for christ’s sake, Shawn! You’re always trying to make me out to be some horrible villain.” He rolled his eyes taking a seat at his desk. “It’s very unoriginal.”

His eyes widened. “That’s only because you’re like the most evil bastard I’ve ever met in my entire life! You make darth vader look like a fucking kitten in comparison.”

His dad merely sniffed and looked at him as if to ask, “Are you done?”

And then he asked, “Are you done? Will you sit down now so I can tell you how I’m going to fix it?”

“This oughta be rich.”

He plopped down in the chair in front of his desk and leaned his chin on his hand in boredom.

“Now...I am going to get you set up in a studio next week. It’s already confirmed. Any producer you want, any collaboration you want, I’ve got it all handled.” He explained pushing a folder across the desk. “Open it. It’s the complete total package. I will have you at the top of the charts in less than a month. With your voice and your lyrics, and my power, you’ll be a force to be reckoned with.”

He stared down at the folder with zero inclination of picking it up. The story was tired. He didn’t need to be at the top of the charts. All he’d ever asked for was to be treated like a decent human being. His dad has never been able to give him that. And as much as he loved music, if it meant giving up y/n the dream wasn’t even the same without her. Everything that he wanted in life had drastically shifted. There was a hole in his life now and he knew that money and music and material shit wasn’t going to fill it. So what was the point?

“What about Khalid? Can you get me Khalid?” He asked.

His dad’s face quickly began to redden.

“What about Normani? Can I collab with her?” He continued. “Oh or what about Ariana? She’s fucking huge isn’t she?”

His dad bit his lip and took a deep breath to contain himself. This was usually the moment when he started throwing things.

“Be reasonable, Shawn.” Manny hissed.

“Me be reasonable? You convince my girlfriend to break up with me and you want me to be reasonable?! Fuck you!”

His blood boiled. His skin felt hot and his heart hammered in his chest. He wiped his hands over his face just to stop himself from spitting. He hated him. He really, really fucking hated him in a way he hadn’t thought possible. His dad had always prioritized his own self interest over everything else, but never had he ever been so vindictive to him. Never had he so viciously snatched away happiness from him.

y/n loved him. She loved him more than maybe anyone had been loved before, at least that’s the way she made him feel. He used to think that losing music was the most painful thing he’d ever experienced in his whole life. But to lose her? Her? It destroyed him. Endlessly.

“You’ve got to get the fuck over her!” His dad roared hopping out of his seat. “You’ve heard the saying, don’t shit where you eat? Well I’m here to tell you you don’t fuck where you eat neither kid,’specially not someone who could be the help! Now I hand you your fucking life’s work on a silver platter and you think you can talk down to me? Cuss at me? You little shit, I made you!”

“Did you...Was that a racist comment against her?” His voice trailed off.

His father huffed. “Oh don’t be such a snowflake Shawn, I raised you better.”

“Did you just compare the greatest thing that ever happened to me to the help?!”

“You gonna pick that bitch over your own family?! I don’t know what kind of spell she has over you, but it ends. Now! I am your meal ticket in this industry and in this world. You fuck with me and it’s over do you hear that? Your apartment. Your cars. Those fucking jeans on your waist. You are mine. Now you can either get with the fucking picture and grow the fuck up from your fairytale bullshit, or I can make a call and you’ll be out on your ass. Do I make myself clear?”

It’s amazing how one person in your life can put it all into perspective, how she could completely shake his whole entire world. It wasn’t a matter of choosing. It wasn’t his dad or y/n. It was choosing himself and his own happiness and his own freedom. Every day spent working for his dad was a day not living a life for him, but a day spent directly towards his dad’s own self-interest. It just so happens that nothing in the world could make it easier than hearing the way that he talks about her.

He gets out of his seat and bites so hard at his lip that blood hits his tongue. But it’s the only thing that’s gonna keep him from knocking the shit out of him, so it’s worth it.

“You’re not worth a damn, you know that?”

His dad blinked. “Excuse me?”

“I don’t excuse shit. I’d rather never sing a single fucking note than give you anything ever again. That woman has more heart and more talent and more balls than either of us combined. You think you’re some tough guy because of your money? Look around dad, no one gives a fuck! At the end of the day you’re gonna die alone and miserable, and if I keep following your lead, I will too. I’m done. Get it? Fucking done.”

He shoved his chair out of the way and headed straight for the door, his dad’s yells and screams finally rolling off his back without care.

“You walk out of this room and you’re finished!”

He paused and turned back to his dad, fingers gripping tightly at the door handle.

“Just so we’re on the same page? You ever talk about her again like that and I won’t hesitate to beat the shit out of you. I hope we’re clear on that. Good bye.”

And that was the end of that.

***

She’s sitting on the edge of his countertop in the middle of his kitchen. It’s where she often would sit when he tried to cook meals for her, and vehemently failed. She’s in a big soft pink sweater that just lights up her skin in ways he couldn’t believe. She’s beautiful. She smiles at him and parts her legs for him to walk between; he does so willingly. The skin of her ankle traps him against the countertop pressed perfectly against her. He smiles.

“You don’t have to try to trap me. I’m already here.” He tells her.

“Good. Don’t go anywhere okay?”

He trails his fingers up her calves and presses closer to kiss her lips.

“Never. I’m here. Always.”

“Mmm. Me too.” She paused to kiss him again. “Always.”

He wakes up like being underwater for a really long time and finally coming to the surface. It’s disorienting to go from seeing her any minute of the day that he could, to only getting to be with her in his dreams. It sucks how bad it hurts. It sucks that he’d rather be asleep than awake, and how much he wishes he didn’t have to feel the pain of surfacing when the image of her is gone again. It just all sucks.

***

“Don’t take this the wrong way, but you look like utter shit mate.” Niall grimaced.

He rolled his eyes and tugged at his hair in frustration. There wasn’t much he could afford to do was there? He was just sort of lost in it all.

“Is that why you invited me to lunch? To make fun of me? Cause I can happily go back to my bed.”

“Alright, alright, calm yourself Mendes. I invited you out here on account of two things. One, Ronnie told me he hooked you up with someone at Atlantic and you never called the guy. Now I’m sitting here thinking surely my Shawnie Boy isn’t a fucking idiot, is he? So that can’t be. And then two! I show up to listen to the final mastering of the album only for some pompous bloke to tell me you quit your job!” He exclaimed. “Now what the hell is going on?”

Niall leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms before staring him down in defiance. The funniest part was that Niall had the kindest, sweetest face in the world. Even though he was trying his hardest to seem angry and intimidating, he just seem really worried and flustered. Maybe it wasn’t funny. Maybe it was sad. Sad. Everything was sad.

He goes to tell his friend about the hell his life has become when two people walk up to their table. It’s a little girl no older than ten or eleven, with an older teenage guy with his hand on her shoulder. He’s probably sixteen or seventeen based off the acne and the look of utter boredom at the world. The little girl is hiding her face behind what looks to be a physical copy of Niall’s album. He hadn’t seen a real CD in years. Must be a hardcore fan.

“Go ahead. Ask him.” The guy asked in a tone just as bored as his demeanor.

She looks up at him with eyes so wide and sparkly that even teenage angst couldn’t defend against it. He sighed and pulled her closer against him.

“Look man she’s a really big fan of yours. Honestly. Like won’t listen to anything else besides you. Will you please do us all a favor and sign her CD?”

Niall turned to two of them and snorted happily. As far as fan encounters go, it’s probably one of the best ones you can get. He held his hand out politely and the little girl plopped the CD into his waiting hand before quickly covering her mouth with her hands. She remained silent.

“Well hello there. I’m Niall by the way. What’s your name darling?” He asked.

A squeal was just barely masked by her hands and Shawn could seen the teenage boy roll his eyes in a certain level of familiarity. Niall smiled at her and the squealing continued.

“Her name is Jenny.” Teenage boy answered on her behalf.

“Jenny. That’s a great name. Jenny I would love to sign this and take a picture for you if I could, but I need to hear your voice first. Can you talk to me please?”

Shawn watches the way they interact. Watches the selfie taking and the signing and the hug. The way she opens up to him and tells him how much she means to him. It reminds him a lot of listening to music at that age. Whether it was Ed Sheeran or John Mayer, music can often times feel like the only thing in the world that makes sense. And it made him feel whole and it made him feel loved and cared for, when no one could convince him of those facts. He had needed music for so much of his life, and it had given him a great deal of self-importance. In that moment he felt more connected to a ten year old girl than to anyone in the world. And it set his mind on a path that it hadn’t been in a very long time. A place he thought would never be an option again.

“You two have a nice day!” Niall smiled at the duo ran off.

Shawn was already tripping out of his chair and reaching into his wallet to pay for the meal they hadn’t eaten yet.

“Get up, let’s go.” He told Niall.

“Oiy! What the hell’s going on?”

“Dude, let’s go!!!”

***

Why can’t I quit when you break my heart open?

I need you more than I know

***

I know a girl, she's like a curse

We want each other, no one will break first

So many nights, trying to find someone new

They don't mean nothing compared to you

***

“That sounded incredible!” Niall called through the speaker.

Shawn shook his head and readjusted his headphones.

“Again, please? I wanna try it one more time.”

***

“Mate, I got someone I want you to meet!” Niall grinned. “Teddy this is Shawn. Shawn this is Teddy.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Teddy, aye?”

She grinned. “That simply is not the craziest thing about me in the slightest. I sure hope you can get over it.”

He shrugged. “Crazy? I can get down with crazy.”

“Oooo. This should be fun.”

***

“I don’t know, it’s like...maybe, maybe one day I could get to a place where it was worth trying again. I know realistically that’s a thing. But I can’t even imagine it. I can’t imagine anything that isn’t her.”

He takes another pull of the blunt she rolled for him and let’s his back hit against the bottom of the couch.

She nodded. “Great so write that. Write what it would be like if you found somebody new. We get the longing, we get the angsty I miss you shit. Write what it would be if you actually tried it though.”

He nods up at the ceiling, arms behind his head as the words start to formulate.

“Like . . . like loving her isn’t something I would ever be able do because it’s not--it’s not you. Because I had you, I don’t want anyone else.”

“Yes. That. Now write it, lover boy.” She sasses handing him a guitar.

***

They’re on a break standing outside the studio while Niall and one of the producers smoke. He hasn’t seen the sun in who knows how long. He’s been living in the studio, Niall putting up every dime for him to record. Every person that he works with, every hour that he spends making this thing is largely because of him. And he’ll never forget it. Somehow what means more to him than any of it is just how good of a friend he is.

“Why don’t you just call her mate?” He asked.

He was leaning against the side of the building peering up at the night sky. He still missed her so badly it hurt to think about. And all he’s been doing every day is thinking about it.

“I can’t.” He sighed. “I mean I--I could. I just...I wanna have something to show her. I want her to know that there was another option. If I try and get her back now, it will just look like I gave up my shot for her and she’d never be able to live with herself. I know her. This is...it’s the only way.”

Niall nodded and took another puff.

“And if it doesn’t work? Cause sometimes it doesn’t, ya know?”

“I know. If it doesn’t work than I tried on my own terms. And then it’s no one else’s fault but mine. Not hers’. Not my dad’s. Not yours. I just have to hope she’ll listen to me when my whole heart is on this record.”

“Well shit. It’s a hell of a plan man.”

****

He’s drunk. There’s no way around it. He’s drunk and tired and lonely a maybe a little horny too if he thought about it long enough. Niall, Teddy, and another producer got him hammered when he said he couldn’t write another song if you paid him. They probably meant for it to be inspiring, but really it had just rooted him in his sadness. So, he stumbled home and fell into bed and that was when it hit him.

“Hello?”

“You’re not here.” He mumbled into the dark.

“Shawn? What the hell is going on; it’s three am.”

He kicked his legs out on the bed and whined into his pillow.

“You’re not here! I’m drunk and I’m lonely and I want you to hold me. I want...I want you to tell me that no one gets to love you because they can’t do it like I can. I want you so bad. Why aren’t you here?”

She breathed deeply. Soulfully. It sounded heavy and full and like maybe it hurt for her to breathe the way it still did for him.

“Where are you right now? Are you safe?”

“I’m at my apartment... Y/n, I was getting kind of used to being someone you loved.”

She giggled and he had to roll over and shove his face into the mattress to keep from exploding at the sound. God could she get any cuter?!

“You didn’t write that one, superstar.”

“I wish I had.” He whispered. “Come over. Please? No wait, d--don’t. I’ll come to you. Let me come to you. I’d do that for you.”

“I think that’s a bad idea. You stay right there sir. You fall even more than normal when you’re drunk.”

He bit his lip and held the phone a little tighter against his ear.

“Yea. You used to catch me though. Why’d you let me fall?”

“Because...Because I knew you were gonna get to fly.” She sniffled. “And I didn’t want to be the reason that you never tried.”

He clutched at his chest, eyes closing. “Please don’t cry. I love you so much. Don’t cry.”

“I know. I know you do, and I knew you’d never let me go if I didn’t make you. I had to, Shawn.”

He shook his head, wishing more than anything that she was there so he could shake her and kiss her and flick her on the forehead.

“No. You didn’t. We could have made it work. I would have made anything work with you. You were it, ya know?”

So now she’s crying and he’s crying and her side of the bed is still cold and it doesn’t even smell like her anymore. And he’s just supposed to give up? He’s just supposed to do nothing? With this crazy ass beautiful woman who was the best thing to ever happen to him? Yea, not fucking likely.

***

*y/n’s point of view*

You were trying to reheat this amazing french onion soup your mother had sent you the recipe for. Your stomach growled as you ran the spoon through it as if to say: “bitch we simply must eat more.” Despite Tiana’s begging, you didn’t have the multi-pronged attack from Shawn and her to convince you to eat in the busy work day anymore. The doorbell rings and makes you burn yourself on the hot liquid causing you to curse and run your finger under some cold water. The doorbell rings again. And then a third, fourth, fith, and sixth time in quick succession. By the time you head towards the door whoever was behind it had taken to knocking aggressively as all hell instead.

“There better be somebody dying for you to be knocking on my door like--”

You yanked the door open only for six feet of Canadian headache to literally fall into your apartment and onto the floor. You know...like an idiot?

“Oh my god! Oh my god, what’s happening?!” You exclaimed.

You were sure the son of a bitch had been shot.

“Ran straight from the subway! Elevator too long! Took Stairs. Can’t breathe.” He wheezed.

“You….You ASSHOLE!” You screamed kicking him in the thigh. “I thought you were dying!”

“OW! Goddamn y/n, I thought I was too!”

He fell back against the floor and placed his hand over his heart working steadily to gain his breath.

“Why are you here Shawn!” You screeched. “Besides to give me a heart attack?!”

“Because! I need you to be my manager!”

And that is where you killed him.

Buy me a ko-fi???

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[shawnsorangeglasses]

Better Conversations - Part 8

3.7k words

Look who finally decided to post!

Synopsis: Another assistant AU, you’ve known Shawn since the beginning but you don’t really become friends until a label party in New York. Then he offers you a job as his assistant.

Some after show tension occurs.

warnings: mild woes

...

Six hours until showtime. It is all hands on deck for everyone in the stage crew. Busy bodies move about the arena, putting together final touches for tonight’s performance. The tour is a little over thirty shows in. Since joining in the middle of it all, (Y/N) is finally starting to get the hang of things. Andrew made it clear that Shawn was her only priority, but with the new extra hours in the day, she tries to do for anyone on the team whenever she can.

She’s coming back from a local deli in the area with three paper bags full of food for Shawn and the band. Sandwiches for the band and salad for Shawn. A singer’s diet, though sometimes he’d cheat and get a small something dairy or doughy. They hardly ever request anything for lunch, but she always picked up something for them anyways, knowing they wouldn’t eat until much later.

As she walked down the sidewalk, she took note of the growing line of bubbly fans waiting out front. Every single one of them looked so sweet and pretty. A few girls wave to her as she passes by and she waves back.

After some time, she became closer and more at ease with the Mendes Army. A majority of them demanded that she make an account on Instagram to see her and Shawn interacting behind the scenes. Eventually, (Y/N) caved and made one separate from her personal profile one after about three days of them pushing Shawn about it. The account gained 100,000 followers in roughly two hours.

She cut through the alley to find the back door that leads to the main stage. It was really interesting to see the crew slowly build the set from the ground up every night. Earlier in the day, the sounds of metal barriers clanging and loud machinery filled the arena from top to bottom, but now it was mostly quiet aside from the well-practiced sound check from the band. Shawn and the guys were onstage doing last minute rehearsals. (Y/N) jogged across the general admissions floor, squeezing through the barrier to meet them stage left.

She hoisted the bags up onto the stage, peering over in silence as the guys practiced. Shawn was sat on the edge of the stage next to one of the larger amps, kicking his boots to the beat Mike was drumming. (Y/N) could tell from the baby blue guitar on his lap that they were running through “Nervous” again.

The musicians drop everything and run over to her in a huddle to claim their food. “I got you guys the fresh stuff. Fruit salads and some sub sandwiches.”

“Thank you, (Y/N)!”

“Yeah, thanks (Y/N).”

They each disperse to their own little corners. Shawn is still hunched over his guitar testing chords. (Y/N) saunters over to him, jostling a separate bag near his feet. “No tomatoes this time, Mendes,” she sings.

Shawn snaps back into reality again. The first thing he sees is (Y/N)’s proud, squinty smile. Last time she brought him a salad with the tiny tomatoes in it and he still hasn’t forgiven her completely. It’s become an inside joke for them.

He crosses his arms at her, giving a new definition to the muscle shirt he was sporting. “You sure there’s no tomatoes?”

“I’m absolutely positive. I checked six times on the walk back here. It's like 50% avocado.”

He slides his guitar safely behind himself and holds his hand out to her. (Y/N) takes secure hold of his wrist as her hauls her up on the stage with him in one swift motion. She watches intently as Shawn empties the contents of the paper bag. He briefly bumps his head into her shoulder, giving (Y/N)’s hand access to the tufts of hair falling on his forehead.

“Y’know, you don’t have to get us lunch if we don’t order anything,” he reiterates. “It only comes out of your pocket then.”

“I know, I know, but you guys workout in the morning and then keep moving, so you should all eat something. Besides,” she pinches his cheek, “you’re still a growing boy.”

“You sound like a mom.” Before he takes a bite, he asks, “What’re you going to eat?”

“Oh I filled up on free samples at the deli.” (Y/N) pats her belly. “I should be good until dinnertime.”

“Nice,” Shawn chuckles.

(Y/N) looks past his shoulder at all the guys chatting over their meals near center stage. “Don’t you want to eat with the other boys?”

“Ah, I’ve been around them all day. I haven’t seen you at all.”

(Y/N) refrains letting that last part go to her head. He didn’t mean it like that, even if a teensy part of her wishes he did.

“Well there’s always the time in hotels.”

Oddly enough, most of their hours were spent apart now. Shawn was either hard at work with the band and writers or catching up on sleep. (Y/N) often had errands to run when she wasn’t tending to Shawn. Even on the tour bus and flights, he needed those hours to rest.

Time in the hotels was the saving grace of this whole journey, Shawn always unabashedly requested to have the room next door to (Y/N) now. “For proximity purposes” he claimed, so that he might have her nearby in case he needs something. And although it may have started out that way, it quickly turned into late night talks and occasionally eating whatever singer-safe snacks (Y/N) could buy from local stores. It became their own little tradition.

“That reminds me,” Shawn says through a mouthful of sandwich, “what are we doing tonight?”

“Whatever you want to do,” (Y/N) mutters. She wasn’t really paying attention. Cez just sent her a text about the next flight details. She sort of zones out looking at the emails. Words become letters. Letters become squiggles. It’s hard to concentrate since the brush with Jason a few weeks ago. She was used to his empty threats but that was when she had leverage. Now she has nothing to hold him, not even shame.

Then Shawn nudges her elbow, but she hardly looks away from her phone.

“Huh?”

“We’re doing dinner later this evening. I know you don’t normally join but- hey are you okay? You look really pale.”

(Y/N) takes her time to meet his eyes. They appear to transition to a darker, more intimidating shade of brown. Her stomach does four backflips.

“Yeah just thinking. You know, assistant stuff. Listen, I gotta go.”

“Oh. Already?”

(Y\N) gets to her feet and dusts off the seat of her pants. “Yes, already. Is there anything else I can do for you before I go help set up the Q&A, sir?”

Shawn wags a finger at her. “What did I say about the ‘sir’ thing?”

“Sorry. Force of habit.”

He gets up too, wearing a smile so bright it’s blinding. A bright red blush tears through the pigment in his cheeks. He just wanted to keep talking to her as long as he could, waste no time. Unfortunately, he ends up thinking of the most basic question of all. “Thanks for the sandwich.”

She shrugs. “Just doing my job.”

...

Parents and young adults filed into the room, filling it with conversational buzz. (Y/N) peeked through a slit in the curtain at the little community that gathered there. One group of girls in the very front started singing “Never Be Alone”, prompting everyone else to join in. It was amazing to see the love and devotion among so many different looking people.

(Y/N) goes to collect Shawn from the green room. The clock on her phone read about ten minutes before he had to go greet everyone again. He’s in the middle of pulling up his jeans when she walks in.

“Oh you’re- I am so sorry.” She turns around and brings her hand over her eyes. Blood furiously rushes to her cheeks and ears.

“No no, you’re fine, come on in. Sorry, I’m almost done.”

She steps in with caution and focuses on the upbeat country track faintly pouring from Shawn’s phone. Travelling so closely together, (Y/N) was bound to see a few people at their less than decent. With Shawn though, it was starting to feel like he was doing this on purpose or just stopped caring altogether. She had no choice but to get comfortable with him.

“God, Shawn. Maybe put a sign outside next time so I know you’re naked.”

“I am not naked.” He glances at her. She’s propped herself  against an end table, still shielding her eyes. “Geez, you act like you’ve never seen me in my underwear.”

“Don’t say underwear to me.”

“Would it help if I sang it?”

“No it would not-”

“Underwear,” he riffs. “Underwe-e-ear, yeah.”

“You’re so annoying,” she chuckles nervously with a slight shake of her head. He beams, proud of himself for yet again finding a new way to gently embarrass (Y/N).

He’s referring to the time she accidentally walked on Shawn in his dressing room. It was weeks ago, early on in a completely different city, but it was also burned into the back of her brain. That definitely broke some of the initial ice between them.

(Y/N) chooses the brick wall as something else to focus on. She hears his footsteps getting closer. Out of her peripheral, she can see Shawn’s shirt is still very unbuttoned and his chest is very exposed. He’s almost closed the space between them, leaving only a few inches of air between their bodies.

“You’re standing in front of my cologne,” he mutters.

“Oh.”

(Y/N) side steps out of his way. Shawn takes the bottle and sprays his neck and wrists, not once taking his eyes off of her. That is until he has to return to the other side of the room to button up his shirt. He leaves a couple buttons free at the top like always, then pays special attention to her reflection in the glass, holding his arms out. “How do I look?”

(Y/N) looks over at Shawn. He’s looking at her through the full length mirror mounted on the wall. She rolls her eyes.

“You know how you look.”

Shawn peers at her reflection, then bites his lip. (Y/N) pinches her wrists behind her back.

“Except for one thing,” she says. She takes notice of his lopsided collar and quickly adjusts it for him. Shawn’s breath hitches just barely. His hands are idle at his waist, not really doing anything, but clearly so desperately wanting to touch her. (Y/N) actively pretends to not notice the effect she seems to have on him.

But Shawn captures (Y/N)’s hand in his right before she pulls off, resting it on his shoulder. The fabric is hot underneath her palm. His whole body has become a furnace. He’s about to say something bold. Or stupid.

“(Y/N) I-”

A knock at the door propels Shawn and (Y/N) away from each other. Cez appears in the doorway.

“Oh you’re both in here,” he says with a playful smile. “You ready, Shawn?”

“Y-yeah,” Shawn makes a few more unnecessary tucks of shirt into his jeans. He turns back to (Y/N), “D’you want to come watch?”

“Uhm, I’ll be behind the curtain. I can see everything from there.”

Shawn understood, but he couldn’t help but feel a little dejected. (Y/N) tugs at his shirt around the waistline to loosen the fit again right before he goes out. “I’ll be right behind you, I promise,” she assures him. “If you need anything I will bring it to you.”

"Anything?"

"Right, almost anything."

Shawn smirks. "Just checking," he purrs.

They venture down the hall to the common area that was built in less than an hour. (Y/N) stops just short of where the dimly lit hallway ends and a room full of people begins. Screams and cheers replaced the chatter the minute Shawn set foot in the room. He can barely be heard greeting them over all the excitement. (Y/N) peeks through a sliver in the curtain.

“Before we start,” he begins. “What am I calling this city tonight?”

The room erupts again with all sorts of answers. Shawn singles out one girl in the front and everyone agrees.

“Okay then, um just one thing, if someone’s asking a question please don’t speak over them and speak loud so I can hear you. This is a big group today. Other than that, go crazy.”

Hands go up instantly. Shawn chooses from the back then from the left middle. On and on this goes for a few minutes and the fans ask the usual questions, fun or otherwise. (Y/N) allows herself to relax. Her mind just goes elsewhere.

She’s imagining the last day of the tour, sad as it makes her. Will she still be an assistant when it’s all over? What will have changed by then? She looks at nothing in particular down the makeshift hallway the team has made in the arena. Connor's messing with his camera settings. Cez is talking to a lighting tech. And like she always does in her free time, she zones out.

“Where’s (Y/N) right now?”

The voice, though small, came with a level of conviction that could only be from a small child. That was the demographic of (Y/N)'s fans. They liked seeing her on the street. She's even received a few drawings in past weeks.

Shawn wrestles with himself to give a straight answer. Then he makes the mistake of looking back at the curtain. People start to become restless.

“Guys, guys, I’m sure she’s busy right now. I don’t want to bother her.”

“I’m not that busy,” (Y/N) blurts impulsively, much louder than she meant to. Everyone erupts in chatter. She looks back at Connor, who has the camera aimed at her now. He was getting a shot between slit in the curtain but now the focus has shifted. She peeks her head out at all the fans and Shawn. A collective gasp captures them and they begin waving so she waves back. All the bright happy faces are reassuring enough.

“Do you want to come out,” Shawn whispers as quietly as he can. A few girls in the front overhear and squeak.

She widens her eyes at him. He knew what she was saying. You really want me to come out here? And the answer was a resounding yes, as indicated by a brisk wave of his hand. (Y/N) peeks her head out and all but recoils at the enthusiastic and sudden attention she receives. Then it all died down just as it quickly came.

“Hi, (Y/N),” says the same little voice that asked for her. Everyone in the aws.

“Hello,” she replies. “I remember seeing a few of you outside in the line. Sorry to interrupt.”

“She actually bought everyone lunch today during rehearsal even though I told her she doesn’t have to,” Shawn adds. Someone in the back goes “whoop” and the whole room is brimming with laughter and applause again.

“Okay I better go,” (Y/N) says immediately. “That’s enough fun for me.” She slips behind the curtain again, waving behind her as a few more people say goodbye.

Connor's snapping his viewfinder back into place behind her. He shares a look with her that can only be that

"Can I use any of that?"

"Sure, dude. It's your footage."

She says so each and every time he asks. Connor always made very sure to protect (Y/N)'s privacy when it came to recording her. If she was in the background of any video, he'd make sure to ask. It's what made him a great videographer.

He scurries away to whatever room holds his editing equipment. (Y/N) slides down to the floor, resting back on her heels so she can still see through the partition. Shawn's still somewhat rambling about her to his fans. It's interesting to hear what she is to him through his eyes. Often times she leaves the Q&A as soon as it's been set up. Under these special circumstances, she stays a while, hoping to learn something new.

…

It's evening. The hotel room is the neat chaos (Y/N) left it when she comes back. She learned several cities back never to spread out too much in these rooms after leaving a few chargers in the walls and drinks in the mini fridges.

"We'll go back and get it," Shawn said the first time it happened. "Can we turn around," he politely asked the driver.

"I'll answer that, no we will not," (Y/N) said firmly. "It's like two little bottles of kombucha. I'll live Shawn." It was never mentioned again.

He was always going out of his way for her. Everybody found it endearing, but (Y/N) didn't want him doing any special favors for her. Their relationship was special enough without grand gestures.

She fishes her planner out of the messenger bag on her bed to go over the next week at the hotel desk. Her sister's birthday is today. (Y/N) checks the timezone on her phone. There was still time to call.

The line rings for a while then cuts into an excited voice.

"Hey girl! Mom was wondering when you'd call. She's sleeping now."

(Y/N)'s heart drops to her stomach. "Bea I'm so sorry, I haven't said happy birthday to you all day. I feel awful."

"Aw you know I don't care about that shit. But bitch, Mom made this cake, you are missing out. I'm trying to save you some."

"I don't know if that slice will be edible by the time I get back, but thanks for the effort."

"You know I'm looking out for you around here." Bea sighs. "Girl I wish you were here. It's boring as hell with no one to tell my jokes. Or argue with."

(Y/N) smiles to herself. Bea always got bored by herself. They were lucky to grow up close in grade school, so they always had a playmate at recess or someone to talk to at lunch.

"What're you up to?"

"Same thing I was up to yesterday. Watching these Game of Thrones episodes."

"Did you make another fake HBO account?"

"Yep, but honestly a week is not enough for a free trial. Netflix gives you a whole month."

She goes on about her other temporary subscriptions. A knock comes at her door, the one joining her room to Shawn's.

"Hold that thought Bea. I think Shawn is going to ask me to come to dinner again."

"He what now?"

She swings the door open. "Not that kind, dumbass."

Shawn smirks at the little nickname, knowing right away it wasn't meant for him. Sure enough, he's dressed to go out.

"Your sister," he whispers. (Y/N) nods. "Hi Beatrice."

"Hi Shawn! I swear, only that man can make my full name sound good. Bitch, if you don't want him, I will gladly have some."

"I have never been more glad that he can't hear you," (Y/N) mutters. Shawn smiles downwards. He's only talked to Bea once before, so he can definitely imagine what she's saying.

"You're selfish, is what you are. The man clearly wants you and you're being your usual self."

"I'm ignoring you." (Y/N) directs her attention to Shawn's hopeful face. He’s propped himself against the door frame too, hands in his pockets. Between her waiting on his question, and him waiting for her to say no was a deafening silence.

"I know what you're going to ask,” she starts. “You know how I'll respond."

"Well in that case, I’m not going either," he says, undoing some buttons.

"He said what?!"

"I'm going to hang up on you," (Y/N) warns. She leans on the door frame as he sheds his shirt and shoes. "Shawn, you don't have to stay for me."

"I'm not," he says calmly. "Honestly, I’m doing this for me."

"If you don't let that man love you right now, idiot sister of mine-"

"Bea, I'll call you later. Happy Birthday."

(Y/N) taps the end call button. One last text comes through, almost too vulgar to read, so she shuts her phone off before Shawn can see it. He’s milling around his room, looking for comfortable clothes among the scattered ones.

“Shawn you don’t have to stay here on my account.”

“Well I’m not going to have any fun without you there.”

Shawn pulls his undershirt off over his head. Muscles in his back flex and relax as his arms go up and down. (Y/N) clears her throat, to which he doesn’t react. Tour life has made him so comfortable with clothing changes, he doesn’t always think twice with another person in the room. At the very least, he warns somebody when his pants are about to come off.

“That’s really unfair to everyone else, isn’t it?”

“Not in that way. I mean I’ll just be there the whole time wondering why-”

He stops himself short, ending with a mumble.

(Y/N) crosses her arms. “If this is your way of guilt tripping me or tricking me into saying yes-”

“It’s not,” he says, almost in a corrective way. “I wouldn’t do that to you. Don’t you know that?”

She doesn’t. She wasn’t sure of anything at all when it came to her employer’s intentions. People often cross you because that’s the nature of the business. Trust wasn’t something she gave so easily to someone with that much power over her. Normally, (Y/N) knew when to leave a job that no longer suited her, but Shawn has yet to give her a reason to run.

Shawn picks up a white t-shirt from his suitcase and slips it on. He doesn’t normally wear a shirt to sleep, but he wanted (Y/N) to feel as comfortable as possible. Although she’d never admit it out loud, he’s noticed how she gets around him shirtless. He sits down on his bed and beckons her to sit next to him. (Y/N) takes baby steps to his bedside and sinks into the soft sheets.

“You should at least tell Cez you’re not coming,” she insists.

“I already did.” Shawn waves his phone then sets it on the nightstand. “Right now, I need to talk to you.”

...

TAGLIST:

@spider-mendes @sebsdreamboat @innositer @sauveteen @sauveteen @sinplisticshawn @sohani02 @yourkidsfavbabysitter @matchamendes @gxccicoffee @daisychains4 @nervousaroundmendes @st3p-hani3 @rulerofnocountry @darloing-shawn @learning-howto-be-myselfx3 @cheerfulmendes @imaginesofdreams @thesmutpeasant @enchantingbrowneyedgirl

[beautifulburn-chriscornellfanfic]

Chapter 1

Mojave Desert, May 31 1991

The desert sun burns a beautiful shade of red as it begins to set just over the hills. I shift into gear, my black '69 Dodge Charger roaring beneath me with the wind blowing through my dark curls. I've been driving for hours though it feels more like days and I desperately need a drink of some sort. You can only drive so far and so fast before everything merges into one and you can't seem to separate the sky from the road.

The desert highway is a place I can escape, even if I have no idea where I'm going, it's comforting in the fact that it allows me to feel so free. Let's face it, I'm a fuck up. No matter how hard I try, everything just seems to crumble to pieces if I have anything to do with it. I just need space. Time to think. A place to clear my head. So with a duffel bag packed with as much clothes as I could fit with my most cherished possessions, I did the only thing I know how to do.

Run.

Run as far away as my car will take me.

Reaching in the glove compartment I take out my aviator shades, flicking the last of my cigarette out the window and decide it's time for some music. I slide some Pantera - Cowboys From Hell in the cassette deck of the car listening to Dime's guitar rip through my ears.

As the incredible thirst for a drink takes over, I find a little one horse town just off the beaten path and pull up to an old dive bar. The only other vehicle in the lot was an old beat up pick up truck and I decided to park next to it.

I open the car door and swing my legs out, feeling the rough gravel from beneath my Doc's. I could still feel the residual desert heat from the day as the sun now casts a pinkish-purple hue across the sky.

I rise from the drivers seat, adjusting my ripped, distressed light wash mini denim skirt and my low cut Type O Negative band shirt that I had made into a little muscle tank top, showing off my cleavage in the best way possible. Flipping my curls out of my face, I grab my bag to freshen up a little bit and close the car door to make my way inside the bar.

I step inside and notice that the bar is actually bigger than it appears on the outside. The only one inside was the bartender who was wiping down the bar who looks up immediately at me as the door closes.

"Hey, uh... restroom?" I ask.

He sticks a toothpick between his lips, flicking the bar towel on his shoulder and points to the ladies room at the far left corner.

"Thanks," I smile shyly and he gives me a nod as I make my way through the bar tables and chairs to the ladies room. I eased myself into the tiny bathroom, setting my bag up on the counter.

"At least it's clean in here," I say to myself as I take my sunglasses off and glance at myself in the mirror. I didn't look as bad as I thought but I still needed a bit of a touch up, I examine the small cut just above my eyebrow, thankful that there's no bruise appearing under my eye. That's the thing about my life though, see a train wreck become that train wreck.

I grab a bit of toilet paper from the dispenser, wetting it under the tap and dab a little bit of the dried blood from the cut. It must've started bleeding again when I put my sunglasses on.

"Fuck," I sigh to myself trying to keep it together. I've come this far I don't need to break down now. I finish cleaning myself up a little feeling a bit fresher than before and 15 minutes later I was good to go. I slip my sunglasses back on, pack up my back, make sure my curls were alright as they fell down around my shoulders and I head out of the ladies room.

I quickly ran back out to my car, throwing my bag in the backseat and made my way back inside to sit up at the bar.

"So... What can I get for a pretty young thing like you?" The bartender smirks as he plays with the toothpick between his lips.

"Jack... straight up," I smirk. He pours me a shot, sliding it over to me with a napkin underneath and I try to think about what I should do for the rest of the evening. I know I need some food. I didn't think I was hungry but as soon as I downed that shot I could already feel the warm and fuzzies wash over my body. I order a couple of tacos and wash them down with another shot of whiskey, feeling nice and relaxed. I set the shot glass back down on the bar and the bartender offers me another one. I nod and he pours, then slides it back over to me.

"Is there like... a hotel or something, or some place around here to stay for the night?" I ask as I twirl the whiskey shot between my fingers.

"Hell, no," He smirks as he takes away my empty plate of tacos.

Well that's easy, looks like an all nighter is in store for me or a good sleep in the back of my car.

As I look around at the empty bar I know I'm not going to be able to stay up all night with the bartender as my only company. But that was about to change in a big way.

Suddenly what seemed like a cavalry of vehicles arrive just outside and pull up to park around my car. A couple of trucks, vans and a bus that practically looked like a tour bus filled the parking lot outside.

"What's going on out there?" I ask as I down my whiskey shot.

"Bunch of rock n' rollers... they're makin' some music video or somethin' out here in the desert and come here at night to eat, drink and play pool. Nice bunch a guys though... tip well," He says as he wipes down the bar.

"Huh... local?" I ask.

"Nah, from up north... Seattle I think,"

I was just about to ask a little bit more when the door opened and a bunch of guys came in. I glance at each one of them as they walk through the door but none of them seemed familiar to me but everyone looked tired and thirsty. When they saw the bartender, they all hailed and waved at him. They looked like they were from up north for sure and were not unpleasing to the eye, especially the one who wore just a pair of baggy black shorts, a black button up shirt that he left unbuttoned and Doc's that matched mine. His long dark curls fell around his shoulders as he flips his curls out of his face, grabbing the pool cue from the wall and chalking it up. He was gorgeous, but I didn't want to stare too long so I turned back as the bartender poured me another shot. There must have been at least 25 guys in the group of them, a few girls thrown in there as well. They had turned on the old jukebox, ordered a slew of beers and food. It didn't seem like they were paying any attention to me other than the first guy I noticed walking through. I would catch his blue eyed glance every once and a while as he played pool and sipped his drink, laughing with everyone else. I'm honestly surprised some of the girls weren't all over him.

With the last glance he gave me, I quickly turn back again looking up at the T.V that was mounted above the bar which was oddly tuned to MTV. A few flashes and then a music video started... Soundgarden's Loud Love.

"That's where you're from," I say quietly to myself as I watch a few flashes of the video. Seeing Chris Cornell bare chested in his ripped jeans and boyish face was a sure distance from how he looked across the room playing pool. His curls are now obviously a little tamer and that goatee makes him look incredibly gorgeous.

"Soundgarden is here?" I whispered to the bartender as he poured me another shot

"Oh yea, that's what they're called. I couldn't remember... you heard of 'em?"

"Yea a little... that's the lead singer over there," I say nonchalantly gesturing to the crowd around the pool tables.

"Really? You wanna meet 'em?" He smiles at me.

"Uh no, no that's ok," I suddenly regret mentioning anything at all.

"Nah, don't worry it's alright... Hey... uh Chris right?" The bartender flags him down and he looks up from the pool table where he was about to take his shot.

"Yea, man" Chris replies with that smile that could make your heart fly out of your chest.

"C' mere a second will ya?"

Chris put down the pool cue and whispered something to one of the other guys, flips his curls out of his face and wonders over to us. I couldn't help but let my eyes wonder over him. His amazingly tall, toned but lean figure was on display from the opened shirt that he hadn't buttoned. I had the best view of him all night.

"This pretty young thing would like to meet ya," The bartender hooks his thumb in my direction and I could feel the blood rushing to my cheeks, burning with embarrassment.

Oh god, just kill me now.

I am of fan, I'll admit that but I'm not some high school girl or a groupie with a crush, I'm mature. Been through a hell of a lot of shit in my life. I'm the same age as Chris, maybe just a few months younger than him but all the same.

His eyes flick over to me, wondering over my body for a few minutes and then he flashes me that smirk and I smiled shyly back at him. I probably look a little disheveled given the fact I've been driving all day in the hot sun. I flip my dark curls out of my face and try to straighten myself as I down another shot of whiskey.

"Mind if I join you?" Chris says to me offering me another smile as he moves over to me.

"No, not at all," I say and set the shot glass down in front of me. I'm surprised I'm not wasted yet but I have been pacing myself.

"I'm Chris," He says sweetly as he offered his hand for me to shake.

"I know," I say awkwardly with a bit of a giggle and realizing it was just a polite way for him to ask my name.

"I'm Andrea - er Andi," I say shaking my head a little and I reach out to shake his hand.

"Andi...? Well, nice to meet you Andi," He says giving me a flirtatious wink.

"So uh, what are you guys doing out here?" I ask trying to act casual as I gesture for the bartender to pour me another shot.

"We're uh... shooting a video out here, and it's only the second day and we're dying out here already," He chuckles.

"Not used to the desert heat?" I ask as the bartender pours me some whiskey.

"You could say that," He smiles at me then asks the bartender to have what I'm having.

"Never seen a chick drink whiskey like that before," He says as he takes a sip from his shot glass.

"Like what?" I ask.

"Like it's water, without any reaction," He raises his eyebrow at me.

"I guess I'm not like most chicks," I say and take a sip of my whiskey this time.

"So, you from around here?" He asks as he flicks his eyes over my body again, landing just at my chest for a few moments and then looks away to sip his whiskey.

Ok think Andi think...

"No... just passing through, on my way to Vegas... so..." I lie. He takes another sip from his shot glass, setting it down and asking for another. I couldn't help but let my eyes wander over his body as well. He looks so fucking amazing. So much more so than on T.V

"Vegas huh? Nice place," He raises his eyebrow at me again.

"Yea, yea it is... crowded though..." I say as I twirl the shot glass between my fingers.

"True... lots of temptation as well," He says slyly.

"Yea..." I trail off and take another sip of my whiskey.

Please don't ask any more questions about me, I'm running remember?

Somehow like he heard what I was thinking, the conversation switched to current events and what not, trailing into a conversation about music, different genre's we're into, bands we like... I take it he figured out I was a metal chick probably just from looking at me which sort of made me nervous about my story since I sure don't look like I'm from around here.

"So the video you guys are shooting... is that for the new record or somethin'?" I ask as I shift myself on my bar stool attempting to flirt but feeling like it wasn't coming out right. It had been a while since I've even attempted to and thank god for that liquid courage because any other time I just feel awkward, out of place and not even remotely confident enough to try at all.

"Yea... the record's due out in September so the record company wants a video as soon as possible... promote it to the masses you know," He smirks.

"Aiming for something a little different?" I ask gesturing to what he was wearing. It wasn't far off from what he looked like in his other videos but, damn he looks good. He looks down at himself for moment, opening his shirt just a little more, his dark curls falling down around him then glances back up at me with that sly smirk again. I guess I'm not the only one who's trying to flirt.

"Maybe," He says taking the last sip of his whiskey. I glance up at the clock above the bar and see that it was now creeping towards midnight, not even realizing how long we've been sitting here chatting away. I knew it was a while though as I could feel my bladder become increasingly full. I excuse myself to the ladies room to relieve myself and assess the situation in the mirror.

It looks like the cut above my eyebrow has started to bleed a little again. I grab some paper towels and dabbed what I could, cleaning it up again as best I could. I'm also really starting to feel those shots of Jack Daniels and I wasn't sure if I should continue on. I really just need to sleep this off before I start to embarrass myself. I tried to think of something to excuse myself without offending Chris and figured I'll just wing it once I get back to the bar.

Once I decided I looked presentable enough again, I stepped out of the ladies room and found that Chris wasn't at the bar any longer. I couldn't tell through the crowd of people if he was still even there so I just decided to step outside and head to my car, hopefully un-noticed.

The night air was still warm and all was quiet except for the muffled music coming from inside. I saw a few flickers of lightning off in the distance with a rumble of thunder and a part of me welcomes the storm that was brewing off in the distance. At least it'll help me sleep in the back of my car.

I'm glad I didn't have to use an excuse, maybe Chris was trying to find a way to escape me and he just used my leave to the ladies room as a perfect time to escape and didn't want to hurt my feelings.

"As if I have any feelings left to hurt," I mumbled to myself as I pull out my car keys from my pocket. I stood there for a moment, trying to decide if I was alright to drive. I did feel pretty drunk, but I wasn't slurring or anything and I could still walk straight or at least it felt like I could. I reach out for the door handle of my car and suddenly a hand closes over mine, his soft suede wrist bands feeling so smooth against my wrist.

"Where are you going?" His voice soft and low coming from behind me.

"Away, before I get too drunk to drive," I reply, not wanting to explain any more than that.

"Do you have a place to stay?" He asks.

"I'm just going to sleep it off in my car," I say still not turning around.

"Well that's not fun," He says lower and sexier as he moved closer behind me.

"This place apparently doesn't have any accommodations, so the back seat of my car is better than nothing,"

"It can be, but really, you just have to know where to look," He says so slyly that I could feel chills running up and down my spine. I turn to face him and lean my back against my car, his gorgeous blue eyes flick over my body again stopping for a moment at my cleavage again, then back to my eyes.

"Chris, I'm not one of your groupie chicks looking for a quick fuck," I sigh flipping my curls out of my face.

"I never thought you were," He says moving even closer and I could feel the heat radiating from his body as he leans himself against the car, his arms on either side of me.

"Fuck, me," I sigh in frustration with myself as I look away from him, my dark curls falling in my face again.

"Only if you want me to," He says playfully, trying to catch my eyes again. I glance back at him, finding that our lips were now dangerously close and I lean back a little more trying my hardest to resist him.

"You don't want this?" He asks, his eyebrows raised with a look of worry for some reason. I couldn't tell if it was worry for me or something else entirely.

"I honestly have no fucking clue," I exhale.

"I know... that's why you're running"

"How did you...?" I started but he glances at the cut above my brow and I couldn't bring myself to finish the question. He reaches up touching the cut just above my brow, gently tracing along the line, brushing a curl that had strewn across my face from the wind that had started to pick up a bit. I look down at myself suddenly feeling self conscious as he steps back from me for a moment, touching his beard and giving another glance over.

"Andi... just look around, there's no one here... we can both just forget about who we are... have a little fun..." Chris says gesturing around the parking lot. I look out towards the road for a moment, then look passed him towards the bar door and he was right. There was no one here, other than his band mates and I'm pretty sure they could give two fucks about what anyone was doing right now. I shook my keys in my hand trying to think but nothing was coming to this drunken head of mine.

"Where...?" I flick my eyes back up to his and the slyest smirk spreads across those beautiful lips of his.

"Let me drive and I'll show ya," He raises his eyebrow at me. At first I thought maybe he just wanted to drive my car and maybe that's true but also maybe it's better that he drives just in case. I hold out my car keys to him, dangling them from my fingers and he reaches out and takes them from me.

"Be careful, she's my baby," I warn raising my eyebrow back at him and I walk around to the passenger side feeling his eyes watch me as he steps up to the driver's side and we both climb in my car. It felt a little strange that I was letting him drive my car but for some reason I trusted him. I mean yea, this is Chris Cornell here but I still don't know him from a hole in the wall. He starts the engine and she comes to life and he reaches down to shift into gear as Pantera blasts through the speakers.

"A whiskey girl who also drives stick..." He says glancing over at me continuing his flirtatious demeanor.

"And listens to Pantera... told ya I'm not like most chicks," I flirt right back, regaining my confidence in doing so.

We pull out of the parking lot and he revs the engine a bit. I take it that he's always wanted to drive a '69 Dodge Charger and I can't say that I blame him. Like I said, she's my baby. We drive a little bit down the highway, the sound of the engine filling our ears as 'Domination' starts up through the stereo. I reach over and open up the glove compartment, pull out a pack of smokes and light one up. Chris glances at me as I take a drag, and exhaling as I pass it over to him. He raises his eyebrow at me again and without taking his hands off the wheel, he leans in taking the cigarette from me with his lips, squinting his eyes from the rising smoke. I watch him for a few moments as he puffs on the cigarette, then I take it from his lips and take another drag, squinting my eyes from the smoke.

"You gonna tell me how you got that cut on your eyebrow?" Chris asks as he looks out the windshield, exhaling the smoke from the cigarette.

"I thought we were forgetting about who we are," I say exhaling the smoke, with the cigarette still between my lips, lifting my leg to loosen the lace of my boot. Chris glances over at me giving me a long look at my thighs and then wondering over my chest again as I flip my curls out of my face. He smirks at me taking the cigarette from my lips, taking a drag for himself and turns his attention back to the road.

We eventually come up to a spot where there were a few vehicles parked, a large Volkswagen van and a couple of tents set up. It looked like they were just recently filming here earlier today. Chris pulls up to the van and cuts the engine.

"Is this where your staying?" I ask gesturing to the Volkswagen van.

"Just 'til tomorrow, then it's back to Seattle," He says glancing over at me taking the last drag of the cigarette and tossing it out the car window. I open my car door and step outside as he watches me and I close the door. He then steps out of the car himself, closing the door, handing me my keys and flipping his beautiful curls out of his face. He then makes his way over to the van door and opens it.

"After you," He says turning back to me and holding the door. I flash him a smirk, step inside, finding a spot on his makeshift bed and was immediately over taken by the heat and stuffiness inside.

"Here," He says and reaches up to pull open the window vent and the air started circulating immediately. He grabbed a small lamp and hung it from the ceiling instantly making the van look a little more intimate, then returned to sit across from me.

"So, what do you think?" He says.

"Not bad, better than my set up for the night," I say as I glance over his body again, his shirt still open revealing that perfectly toned chest and those abs that drove every girl crazy.

There was a brief awkward moment and I think he could sense it. My buzz was certainly starting to wear off and I could feel my courage waning.

"Hey Andi, we don't have to do - "

"No, no... I want to but uh... you got a drink, or something?" I cut him off though I didn't mean to but I got this far and I don't want to turn back now.

"Uh yea," He says looking around the van for a moment, finding the cooler and pulling out a small bottle of Jack Daniels. He unscrews the cap and takes a sip then hands me the bottle. He watches me as I take a small sip at first, then a longer drink, closing my eyes and relishing in the beautiful burn that trickles down my throat. Once I finished my sip, I hand the bottle back to him and he takes another sip for himself, offers the bottle back to me again but I decline.

"No I'm good, I want to remember at least something about tonight," I say as he caps the Jack Daniels bottle and sets it down on the cooler.

"Trust me, I won't let you forget," He says low and so lustfully, flipping his curls out of his face as his eyes flick over my body again. He moves closer to me placing his hands on my hips but I stop him.

"Wait... I wanna see you first," I say, not meaning to be so bold but I couldn't help it. My buzz was coming back and damn his body was driving me crazy.

"Uh huh... alright, I'll show you mine if you show me yours," He says so slyly.

"Deal... you first though," I smirk and he chuckles.

"How 'bout some music?" He raises his eyebrow at me and for some reason I get the feeling like he was trying to stall. I shrug and he moves into a crouch reaching into the front and suddenly his voice started coming out through the stereo.

"Fuck no, not me," He laughs and changes it to something else. Black Sabbath's Sweet Leaf. Perfect for the mood.

"Master of Reality?" I ask.

"Yea," He smiles at me as he returns to sitting cross legged across from me.

"Shirt," I gesture to him after a few moments of him glancing over my body again.

"Right," He chuckles looking down at himself for a moment, then takes off his button up shirt, his curls spilling across his chest as he tosses the shirt aside. Feeling bold from the drink of whiskey, I move into a kneeling position, reaching over and touching his chest, feeling every toned muscle and the smoothness of his skin. Fuck he's gorgeous. I move my hands over his shoulders and down his biceps admiring how his freckles show with his fresh tan from earlier today. He then looks up at me with that look of hunger.

"Now you," Chris says with his blue eyes gleaming at me. I smirk remembering our deal and move my hands to the bottom of my shirt, pulling it up over my head, revealing my black lacy push up bra to him as my dark curls fall down around my shoulders while I toss my shirt aside.

"Eh hmmm," He clears his throat gesturing for me to take off my bra. I take the hint... since he was completely shirtless, I should be too. I teasingly unclasp my bra, freeing my breasts before him and tossing it aside with my shirt.

"Jeezus," He exhales and bites his bottom lip as his hands move to my hips , his fingers trailing up my sides, his calloused fingers skipping over my pale skin, his thumbs softly caressing the sides of my breasts.

"Hard or soft?" He asks, his eyes lingering at my breasts, then wandering down.

"Hard. God, make it hard," I sigh. He chuckles as his eyes find mine again and with that, he flips me over so that he was on top of me, his lips immediately making contact with my neck while his hands scrambled to unbuckle my belt. I thought maybe of just suggesting that he just lift up my skirt instead, but he was able to finally unbuckle me, pulling it down over my hips, tossing it aside with the rest of my clothes. Soon enough we were both completely undressed, though he still kept those suede wrist bands on, and sat up for a moment to gaze at me.

"Damn," He whispers as I push a few curls out of my eyes.

"I could just eat you right now," He says as his eyes flick over my body again and I blush. It has been a long time since anyone gave me a compliment like that.

I open my legs flicking my eyes to his, and bite my bottom lip .

"Yea, exactly," He growls, flipping his curls and positioning himself, wasting no time in getting to work. As soon as his lips touched me I swear I wanted to scream. My clit was alive and throbbing even before his lips touched me but once his tongue went to work, I knew I was not going to last very long, but I can still go again.

His tongue flicks while his lips suck and I swear to god, it feels as if he is pulling the very soul right out of my body. His hands move to spread my legs farther open for him and I thought I was about to lose it. He is determined and so am I and never once did he let up, not even for a second.

Reaching up, threading my fingers through my own curls, gripping at my roots I start to pant, whimpering and moaning beneath him. My other hand goes for his hair, entwining my fingers through his curls encouraging him to continue sucking and flicking my clit. Once his fingers entered me, it was over.

"Jeezus fuck, Chris.. I'm gonna fucking cum," I whine, not even recognizing my own voice and he still never once let up. He moans against me, still sucking my clit for all it is worth and that is all the encouragement I need to finally let go. The wave of incredible orgasm took over my entire body, edging me once again and tipping over immediately after the first one. I whimper and groan a string of profanities that even a sailor would blush at.

When he finally lifts his head from between my legs, wiping his chin with his palm, his expression displaying that he is quite pleased with himself, I continue to pant trying to come down from my high and get my bearings again.

"Sounded like you needed that," He says.

"Uh huh," I pant.

"That better not be all you got tonight," He says  as he sits up to look at me.

"Uh uh... trust me I still got... a lot left in me... are you sure you can handle it though?" I tease in between my panting.

"After a performance like that, how could I not?" He smiles that devilish grin, flipping his curls out of his face once again.

"Prove it," I smirk batting my brown eyes at him. He bites his bottom lip and in one swift movement, he flips me over so that I was on my stomach and I giggle as I lift myself up on all fours. His hands grab my hips and he pulls me pack to him as he positions himself behind me.

"Hard remember?" I remind him as I glance back at him for a moment. His hand smacks my butt cheek which made me yelp in surprise and I start to giggle again.

He leans over me, his one hand still gripping my hip, his other moving to my hair entwining his fingers through and giving me a tug, pulling my head back as I gasp feeling completely turned on by his actions right now.

"Trust me I haven't forgotten," He purrs in my ear, his voice filled with lust and determination, his breath hot as his lips brush my earlobe, then moves to the spot just under my earlobe and bites, sending a wave of shivers all over my body. Then wasting no time once again, he inserts himself inside me.

"Oh, fuck," I cry out in surprise, as I knew it was coming but I didn't realize just how big he really was. Thank god he was gentle going in otherwise I would've stopped him.

"You alright?" He asks stopping for a moment.

"Yes... fuck, don't stop," I pant. I appreciated the fact that he was concerned for a moment but I'm not interested in niceties right now. He begins to move again and the feeling of him inside me completely filling me up is a feeling that I never knew I could have again.

"I said hard Chris," I instruct. He starts to thrust harder with more determination and tugs my curls once more. I start to whimper relishing in the length and fullness of him inside me. He bucks his hips against me and I respond, pushing back, moaning and panting. Then for some reason he moves his hand from my hip, moving up my side and around to my front pulling me up into a seated position with him still behind me. My curls fall down around me, falling across my face and he takes his one hand, brushing them off my shoulder, revealing that spot just under my earlobe again and presses his lips, softly brushing and kissing all along down to my shoulder.

It's starting to feel like he's trying to be gentle again and I don't want gentle.

"Chris stop," I say quickly.

"Huh?" He pants.

"Just... stop for a minute," I say moving off of him.

"You alright..? Did I hurt you?" He asks furrowing his brow at me and panting. I turn around to face him, flipping my curls out of my face.

"No, no you didn't hurt me," I pant trying to catch my breath. He studies me for a couple of moments as he tries to catch his breath.

"Just... um... can I be on top?" I look away from him for a moment and then flick my eyes back to him. I could feel that awkward moment creeping back in the van and I just wanted to get rid of it as fast as it appeared.

"Absolutely," He flashes me that devilish grin and moves to lay himself down on his back beside me, raising his arms and clasping his fingers together behind his head. My eyes wonder all over his body glancing at those perfect pecks and further still noticing he hasn't lost his arousal one bit.

I climb up on top of him as gracefully as I can, placing my hand around his shaft, finally getting a good look at just how large he really is which makes my heart beat a bit faster and I give him a squeeze in my hand.

"Damn," Was all he could get out before his eyes fluttered shut tilting his head back and biting his bottom lip. I worked him a little bit, pumping my hand up and down, earning moans of encouragement from him as a tiny bit of pre-cum released from him.

"You ready?" I ask.

"I have been for a while now," He breathes. With that I move to position myself, straddling him and guiding him inside me as best I can.

"Oh, fuck," He exhales as I start to move, placing my hands on his chest to steady myself. I arch my back rocking my hips against him, making sure to feel every inch of him inside me. I close my eyes and throw my head back as he reaches to grip my hips to help guide me.

"Oh god, yes... make me forget," I moan as he starts to buck his hips again.

"I'm not going to let you forget this... not one single... second... of... this," He pants in between each hard thrust and he suddenly flips me over so that I was now underneath him. I wrap my legs around him as tight as I can, moving my hands to his beautiful curls again threading my fingers through as he buries his face in my neck, biting in the most perfect way possible. I grind my hips against him, whimpering and moaning, feeling that pressure building up inside me. My fingers release from his hair, moving to his back and I find myself clawing and digging my fingers up and down as hard as I can.

"Fuck... I'm so fucking close," I whine.

"No, wait... not yet," Chris pleads and I respond by tightening my muscles around him.

"Ah, fuck..." He flicks his eyes open and looks at me.

"Protected?"

"Yes, go for it," I moan as he looks into my eyes. A few hard final thrusts and he was crying out just like he does in so many of his songs and in doing so, I release all of the hurt and pain I've endured, matching his orgasm with my own and forgetting just for a little while.

"Jeezus," I exhale as he lifts his head from my shoulder to look at me, placing his hands on either side of my face, brushing the stray curls out of my eyes. I study his eyes as he seems to not want to break his gaze from me at all and we lay there together not saying one word. The rumbling of thunder off in the distance, and Black Sabbath's Into The Void finally coming to an end signals to me that something more than just a fuck happened in this van, whether I care to admit it or not.

****************************************************************************************

[elopez7228]

Scenic Route 4/47

Read on AO3 : https://archiveofourown.org/works/18268208/chapters/43229774

Start over : https://elopez7228.tumblr.com/post/620919089893933056/scenic-route-0147

Jessica was both overjoyed and terrified when she recognized Rey’s voice over the phone. She was shouting with a mixture of glee and rage about something along the lines of worrying to death and never being happier to hear something in her life.

Noticing Jessica’s sheer levels of anxiety, Rey strategically omitted certain details. She confirmed that she had arrived safely and had spent an unforgettable night in a luxury hotel—all at Finn’s expense, of course. She also downplayed the fact that her phone had run out of battery.

On the other end of the table, Ben Solo was trying very hard to pretend that he wasn’t listening. Rey knew that he didn’t miss a single word she said. She didn’t like the idea of being indebted to him, so she cut the call short, simply asking Jessica to tell the others that she was doing just fine and was having a splendid holiday.

Except for Finn of course. Finn could go die for all she cared. In fact, she really hoped he would.

She handed the phone back to Ben, who was still pretending to be disinterested.

“Problems with the boyfriend?”

Rey narrowed her eyes, dismissing the question as inappropriate.

“None of your business. Thanks for the cellphone. How much do I owe you?”

“Your digits. Then we’re even.”

Was he actually flirting with her? Rey sighed disdainfully.

“After nearly killing me with your Monster Truck, you’re trying to flirt with me? You have some gall, don’t you? Have a nice day, and thank you for the call.”

Picking up her damaged suitcase again, she waved politely to the waitress, who waved back. Then she headed over to the door. At the shopping center, she withdrew 500 dollars in cash, some of which she used to buy an adapter and a shoulder bag. She judged the new bag to be more suited to her trek across the country than her current roller model (which wasn’t doing a whole lot off rolling anyway).

The encounter with Ben Solo kept gnawing at her. The man was both intoxicating and insufferable, like over-sharp cologne that gave you a headache and made it harder to think.  He was a bullish, arrogant show-off—and yet something about him mesmerized her. The way he chewed his lip when he was deep in thought, the constellation of beauty marks on his face, or the involuntary grace in the way he ran his fingers through his hair. It made him seem vulnerable, utterly human. A far cry from the apathetic snark he pretended to be.

Emerging from the shopping center, she peered around the corner to make sure the pickup was no longer parked there.  Reassured that it had disappeared,  she walked over to the Night Owl café in relief now that Ben Solo had left the premises.

The new customers were hipster types, likely students, clad in harem pants, plaid, and oversized glasses. They typed away on their laptops, sipping from fancy drinks graced with floating scoops of ice cream.

“Hello again, can I hang around here while I recharge my phone? Should I order something else?” She asked, approaching the waitress again.

“No need, go ahead and make yourself at home. You can stay as longs as you want. I’m sorry about that annoying customer. Are you alright?”

Manners dictated that Rey should simply have responded fine, thanks, but the words that left her lips instead were “It’s absolute hell, I want to die.”

She blushed immediately, chewing on her lip. What had possessed her to open up to a stranger?

The waitress looked up at the clock mounted on the wall.

“I’ve got some time before the lunch rush, wanna talk? I can make you some fresh squeezed orange juice, it’s loaded with vitamins, it’ll help you recharge,”

“I—well…alright. That’s kind of you. By the way, I’m Rey,”

“I’m Rose, nice to meet you. I have a feeling your trip hasn’t gone to plan. Have you been here long?”

“Since yesterday,” Rey sighed, taking the glass of orange juice that Rose offered. She plopped down onto a bench and when Rose sat across from her, she told her everything: Finn, the wedding, the annulment, Poe, Jessica, the honeymoon trip, Ben Solo and his pickup.

Rose listened attentively, occasionally nodding mhm to encourage  Rey to keep going. Finally she asked, “But how much money do you have for this trip?”

“Not much, really” Rey shrugged, “Finn and I took out a loan to pay for the wedding, but now I have to reimburse the suppliers, give back our apartment, and whatever else I have to budget for the next five years. I’m generally better off the less I spend. It wasn’t the idea of the century to go on a two-week holiday with barely a quid to spare.”

Rose pursed her lips, assessing that last sentence. “I know someone who could use your services, if you’re interested. The job will make you some cash and take you pretty close to San Francisco.”

Rey hesitated. Silent alarm bells went off in her head, a gut instinct to pull away. She responded without thinking, “Is it prostitution or something? Because even if I’m penniless that’s out of the question,”

“No, not at all! It’s completely harmless. It’s just that I don’t have time to do it because of the café and all. No one will force you into anything.”

“Is it drug trafficking? Cannabis?  That’s legal in Colorado, isn’t it? Will I make enemies in the police department?”

“No, none of that,” Rose giggled, “It’s actually just taking a car up to California. And knowing your situation, I thought you could really use a ride. But if you don’t feel like it we can figure something else out.”

“And what does that entail exactly? What’s in this car?”

Rose jotted down a number on a Night Owl business card, handing it to Rey.

“You can contact Leia Skywalker using this number, she’s a friend. She’ll explain everything. I would do it myself but like I said, I just don’t have the time. And it would be a two-way trip for me anyway. You would only be driving one way, it’s totally convenient.”

Rey slipped the card into her pocket and drained her glass, rising to her feet.

“I’ll think about it, thanks a load,”

“You’re welcome, thank you too. I hope it all works out for you…”

Rey threw her bag over her shoulder, taking out her phone, she made her way to the exit.

“Yeah, I hope so too...”

She found herself on the road again. Inside her pocket, her fingers fiddled with the glossy edges of the business card.

The thought of that card in her pocket distracted her throughout the day.

She went to the Black American West Museum on California Street, to broaden her horizons on a culturally and historically relevant fieldtrip. She didn’t retain anything however; distracted by hard realities like not knowing where she was going to sleep that night.

She ate a cheeseburger and an Oreo milkshake at this “Jack in the Box” place, where the hundreds of options at the soft drink machine left her feeling indecisive. Looking at the advertisements, this Jack fellow was an odd mascot who only appealed to American sensibilities; his prim suit contrasted comically with his ballooning head, which looked like it was decorated by a child no older than five.

She travelled on foot to the Santa Fe Art District, where she wandered without really admiring the bright murals and art galleries. It was getting late and she was feeling tired due to the lingering jet lag. She needed a room for the night.

Worn out from her day-long walk, she slumped onto a bench. It was there that she saw the poster, in the corner of a shop window across the street.

Howl at the Moon presents: Kylo & the Knights of Ren, June 30th to July 4th: Free admission

Where had she seen that name before? Kylo and the Knights? What a bizarre name, but why was it so familiar?

It dawned on her. Kylo Ren was written on the bumper sticker of that pickup. The one belonging to what’s-his-face Ben Solo. It was a rock band.

Well, then! Instead of finding a place to sleep, she had stumbled upon the perfect place to spend the evening…

When she made it through the doors at 7 PM, the place was still quiet. It was too early for the show and the scene was deserted. Rey ordered a beer and a club sandwich at the bar. Gritting her teeth, she sat down at a small, empty table in a quiet alcove. She had a good view of the stage while taking up as little space as possible. Why had she come? Objectively, she had no desire to see Ben again, the unbearable arse. And yet—and yet she was curious. If he was any good, she could ostensibly revise her judgement.

The venue filled up slowly as the music blared. The crowd was tight-knit, greeting each other with smiles and pats on the back. The drinks kept flowing all night. At first Rey thought she would garner attention, a girl sitting all alone with her beer. But the crowd thickened, and soon she was safely just another silhouette in a sea of hundreds of others.

The sound of a few stray guitar notes made her look up. The band was onstage. There were seven of them—four women and three men. Clad in that many shades of black, they left no doubt that they were a rock band. They had it all, the leather and denim, Doc Martens, miniskirts and crop tops. Their hairstyles ranged from expertly shaved to long flowing locks and intricate braids. In center stage was Ben Solo (or was it Kylo Ren?) microphone in hand. He chewed on his lip and ran his fingers through his hair, habits that Rey had already picked up on after just two encounters. He had an unusually deep, almost guttural voice—Rey would be lying if she said that her interest wasn’t piqued. The music was a perfect sort of chaos—the melodies hypnotic under the savage rhythm and relentless beat. Rey surprised herself by singing with the crowd, repeating the refrains that she hadn’t memorized yet but which descended upon her ears and lips as though they had always been there.

Realizing that she was finally smiling, Rey thought of how the past hour had rid her of her worries for the first time in a long while. It was cathartic—she felt alive again. She had no desire to leave this place, to go back out there and find a room, as common sense would dictate. She wanted nothing more than to stay there a little while longer, a carefree spirit enjoying the music as she basked in the anonymity of the crowd.

She stayed for just about the entire evening. The band descended into the crowd after the show to drink a few beers with a small group of regulars. They laughed like old friends. Rey couldn’t help but notice their guitarist. Her style was gorgeous punk, complete with an immaculate mohawk and studs in her nose and ears that contrasted beautifully with her ebony skin. She never left Ben’s side. Shoulder to shoulder, her hand on his arm, her subtle touches and accidental brushes seemed to multiply.

Stars, I’ve never seen a girl more madly in love, too bad for her that he doesn’t look like he will ever reciprocate it.

And as though it was meant to contradict her, Ben’s hand shifted to rest on the girl’s hip, subtly pulling her against him. Rey raised the beer bottle to her lips, and found herself eye to eye with him as he looked up.

He was so shocked to see her that he began looking around, perhaps to make sure that it wasn’t one of those tacky hidden camera shows. As nothing continued to happen, he got up and walked in her direction.

The guitarist let him go, but not without seeking a reason for the sudden desertion. Her eyes locked on to Rey. Suddenly, Rey felt that she hadn’t exactly made a new friend.

“Good evening! Lovely concert there, Kylo Ren,” Rey said sweetly as Ben towered over her.

“What are you doing here?”

The question could have been unexpected if she wasn’t so naively spontaneous. Rey took a large swallow of her beer.

“I saw the light and I wandered in, what a small world, right?”

“Denver is a small town. And the nighttime rock scene even is even smaller. I didn’t realize that you liked rock music.”

“Well I don’t mean to brag but I have all sorts of hobbies apart from throwing myself at moving vehicles, really. But we never got around to that. How long have you been playing?”

“A few years.”

He wasn’t talkative and Rey pursed her lips as she scratched her brain for topics of conversation. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw the rather impatient guitarist and seized upon the opportunity to ask him about her.

“Lovely guitarist you’ve got there, is she your girlfriend?”

“None of your business.”

Rey took the blow. It was fair play. She finished her beer and turned to leave.

“Well, then! Alright Ben Ren, Kylo Solo, or whatever your name is, thank you for the evening—it was a memorable performance. I had a great time but I ought to leave.”

She rose and slung her bag over her shoulder again, as it caught Ben’s eye.

“New bag? You were right to buy it, your other one was completely useless.”

“Yeah, someone was nice enough to tell me that it didn’t match my outfit. Goodnight, then.”

She had only taken a few steps toward the exit when he called out behind her:

“Where will you be staying tonight, Rey from England?”

“Nowhere. I’m a free woman in the Land of the Free.”

Her response was drowned out by the voices of late-night conversations between party diehards and smokers who congregated in packs near the door. Rey was feeling lightheaded and tipsy; she took a few wobbly steps onto the sidewalk before he called her name.

“Rey, wait!”

She turned around to see Ben cutting through the crowd in her direction, as she hit the lamppost hard. I must really be drunk then, she reasoned before giving in to the darkness.

[cluttermind]

Without A Parachute (3/?) - No Judgment

Summary:  Emma worked tremendously hard to give herself a better chance. From group homes, to living in her car, to ivy league student, this English Major’s only solace was escaping her reality through books. One night, Emma comes home to find a small package with only her name on it written in beautiful calligraphy. The package contains a thick, brown leather journal. Emma soon learns that the fiction she writes in the journal eventually becomes reality. Will Emma learn to control this gift, or will she fall too fast into the temptation to change too much? With the help of her good friends August, Robin, and Elsa, and the mysterious, intriguing bartender of The Jolly Roger, Emma discovers just how easy it is to lose control, and how difficult it is to pick up the pieces.

Rating: M 

Words: 10,482 total / 3,335 Ch 3

Read on ao3: Beginning | Current

Note: Thought it was time to finally post this here! Thanks for reading friends! I hope you like this one - I had a lot of fun (maybe too much fun) writing it. Here's a little fun fluff and sweetness and lots of pop culture references before things get ~interesting~ Next week will probably be a hiatus while I finish up some [online] finals but a LOT happens in ch 4 so I hope you stay with me. I’d love to hear your thoughts!

//

Chapter 3

“No Judgment”

I can be your lover or your shoulder to cry on

You can be whoever you like

When you're with me, no judgement

You can get that from everyone else

You don't have to prove nothing

- Nial Horan, No Judgement

Emma worked at the bookstore all day on Friday. Being there always made her feel a little better. She was surrounded by books and all the things Belle brought back from her excursions. Bell had recently gotten a new shipment from an independent publisher she had recently found. Rose and Petal Books, while stocking many popular titles, had an extensive collection of lesser-known novels from independent publishers along with a plethora of local authors.

One book in particular caught her eye and there was only one copy sent in the box. The book was bound in a soft, brown leather with its title engraved and filled with gold foil on the cover in beautiful cursive. Into The Page . There was no barcode to scan for inventory.

“That’s odd.” Emma commented to herself, turning the thick book over in her hands. She opened it up to skim the pages and noticed that it was a journal filled with handwritten content. Something about the book felt faintly familiar. While the title was beautiful, there wasn’t anything remarkable about it. She figured it might have been someone’s manuscript that was sent to the publisher that got mixed in by accident.

“Hey Belle,” she called to her boss who was at the register, reading.

“Find something interesting?” Belle asked as she walked over to where Emma was in the back room.

“I think they accidentally sent us someone’s manuscript?” Emma handed her the journal.

“Hm. That is interesting.” Belle gently flipped through the book. “I’ll call the publisher tomorrow. It’s getting late, why don’t you head home for the night.”

Emma looked at the clock. It was 8:00, only an hour till closing anyway. “Sure. I’ll see you next week?” Belle nodded and gave Emma a quick hug. Before leaving, she hung up her apron and turned her phone back on. Emma usually turns her phone off during work and uses the time as an escape from everything. There were a few texts coming into her group chat about the meeting Elsa and Robin were at. Essentially the meeting was going to run long, lots of signs needed to be made before Sunday’s protest about something or other. Emma wasn’t really up-to-date on this particular one. August offered to come help because he was bored.

There was a text from her roommate Sarah to her and Claire that came in half an hour ago.

Sarah to group: Hey, Josh is coming over to cook me dinner and you know ;) can y’all stay out till like midnight? Maybe 1 if things go really well ;) Don’t want any distractions tonight ladies

Claire to group: Yeah I’m staying with Danielle tonight - we’re hitting up the Alpha Delta Pi party tonight

Emma sighed. Her friends were busy and she wasn't in the mood to spend hours making posters and signs after working all day. But the library would be open for a while longer. She could use the computers and scroll through Reddit for a few hours.

Emma to group: Sure thing. Have fun :)

Then she remembered someone she could waste some time with. She walked towards The Jolly Roger and opened the door. It was starting to get crowded but it wasn’t too hectic yet. Emma made her way to the bar and noticed Ruby there along with a man she hadn’t met yet.

“Hey Ruby,” Emma said, smiling. She and Ruby had gotten to know each other since they had first met at the pub. Ruby was a junior majoring in art. She also hated Macroeconomics, the class they were in together, but it was filling a graduation requirement. They studied together a few times and always ended up begging Killian for free food. Emma always ended up paying though, sneaking the money under the plate before she left.

“Hey! Looks like you’re in better spirits today. You okay?” Ruby responded, referencing the previous night that Emma would very much like to forget.

“Nothing that sleep couldn’t fix,” she lied. While the initial shock of yesterday was gone, the pain, the anger, the self-doubt still lingered.

“If you’re looking for the Captain he’s upstairs.”

“What?” Blush rose to Emma’s face.

“Killian. He’s upstairs. Took the night off. Just take the stairs behind the bar, walk two floors up and you’ll be at his door. I’m sure he won’t mind!” Ruby explained.

“Oh. Thanks.” Emma headed up the stairs, and hesitated at the door. Through it she could hear the sound of a guitar strumming. Maybe he didn’t want company. Maybe he’d rather be alone. Maybe he didn’t want to see her . She could just go back and sit at the bar and talk to Ruby for a while. They weren’t super close but she could find things for them to talk about. It was also getting busy downstairs though. Pull it together Emma. She knocked on the door.

The sound of the guitar stopped and seconds later Killian opened the door. He was surprised and happy to see her. “Hello, Swan. What brings you here? A little early for a booty call no?” Killian grinned, raising an eyebrow at her.

“Oh it’s never too early,” Emma played along staring right at Killian who was leaning against the doorframe with his arms crossed at his chest. “My roommate sexiled me and I needed somewhere to crash for a while.”

Killian stepped aside to let her in. He was wearing just a plain black v-neck t-shirt and grey joggers. It was odd seeing him out of his work attire - a black button down with two buttons undone at the top and dark, a black vest, and slim-fitted jeans. He watched her as she walked in and closed the door, distracted by her being.

“Sexiled?” Killian teased. “Well if you insist, love. Can’t leave a beautiful woman unsatisfied now, could we?” Emma slapped his arm.

“You know what it means. Sarah kicked me out so she could fuck her boyfriend without interruption. Honestly the warning was appreciated because even my ear buds can’t tune her out.” Emma explained. She took her jacket off and draped it over a stool at Killian’s kitchen Island. His apartment was beautiful. It was an open concept with a gorgeous kitchen, a beautiful island, a ridiculously comfortable sectional, with an oversized chase at one end and a large TV mounted to the wall. Speakers were all over. The doors to his bedroom with glass french doors, making the one-bedroom apartment look bigger than it is. “Sorry for not texting before, I thought you’d be working and was coming to sit at the bar for a while. Ruby told me you were up here.”

“No worries, love. I quite enjoy the company,” Killian said, moving to flop down on the chaise part of the couch. “And it’s clear that you find me so irresistible that you just had to see me tonight instead of one of your other friends.”

Emma rolled her eyes. “Oh I can resist you just fine. Everyone else was busy.”

“Ouch!” Killian feigned pain, his hand going to his heart. “So I was your second choice.”

“4th actually.” Emma teased.

“Keep telling yourself that.” He winked and patted the spot next to him. “How about a movie? Anything in particular you’re interested in watching?”

Emma kicked her boots off and flopped down next to him. They were so close their arms and legs were touching. He nudged her foot playfully and he turned on the TV and opened Netflix. She shrugged against him. “Whatever you’re watching is fine. I don’t want to disrupt your evening.”

“You’re not disrupting anything, love.” Killian responded, handing her the remote. “Snacks?” He got up, taking the warmth of his body with him and Emma suddenly missed the closeness.

“When have I ever turned down food?” Killian laughed. She adored the sound of his laugh. It always made her smile. Emma scrolled through Killian’s watch list on Netflix. Ozark, The Witcher, The West Wing, Grey’s Anatomy . The last one made Emma giggle under her breath. So Mr. Bartender is a Grey’s fan. She made a mental note to tease him about that later. Not like she was the one to speak though. Ever since August let her use his Netflix account she’s been on that binge as well. Killian tossed a bag of popcorn in the microwave. “How was your day?” Emma asked, genuinely caring about the answer.

Killian groaned. “Infuriating. It was a lot of inventory and ordering and arguing to get things here on time. I prefer working the bar to that any day. How was yours?”

“Eh, it was fine. I spent all day working down at The Rose and Petal.”

“The bookstore?”

“Yup.”

“Aye, my grandad loved it there. Belle still owns it?”

“She does. Your grandfather lives here? What’s his name? Maybe I’ve seen him.”

Killian leaned back against the island, gripping it a little tighter as his eyes moved from Emma to the floor.  “Nah, love. He used to live here. He passed away 2 years ago, just after I opened the pub.”

Emma’s face softened. “Killian, I’m so sorry.”

He looked up at Emma. “He was a professor at Cornell. In the English department actually.” He tilted his head and smiled a bit. “You remind me a bit of him.”

Emma smiled back. “How so?”

“He loved academia and his research and teaching. He always had a book in his hand. Sometimes he’d lose all track of the world around him when he was working or reading. He was a fountain of useless knowledge. He knew little about music but always asked me what I was listening to, only took his coffee black except for at the pub, and asked me how my day was every time I saw him and always cared about what the answer was.” Killian reminisced. He had spent nearly every summer growing up in Ithaca with his grandma and granddad. Killian still couldn’t believe that he’s gone. “He always made me smile and loved telling me about what he was reading. He was my best friend.”

“He sounds wonderful.” Emma noted, blush creeping to her cheeks feeling both sad for Killian’s loss and flattered at the sentiment that she reminded me of someone he clearly loved so deeply. When Emma wasn’t physically at The Jolly Roger or with her friends or at work, she was usually texting Killian. They talked about nonsense most of the time but there was something comforting seeing his name pop up on her phone after long days. In retrospect, she wasn’t surprised that it was him she made her way to last night when life had shaken her to her core. Emma knew he’d be the one to help her hold the broken pieces together. If she was being honest with herself, it still felt as if those pieces were scattered on the floor. And from the look in his eyes, she could tell he had some pieces there as well.

“Aye. Wonderful.” Killian said. Although it was unclear who exactly he was talking about as he looked at her. Just then the microwave went off, breaking his trance. He opened the hot bag and poured the popcorn into a bowl. “So what’re we watching?” He asked, reaching to grab and open a bottle of wine.

“Well I saw this really fascinating documentary on sharks the other day that I wanted to show you.” Emma explained.

“Sharks, huh? What about them?” KIllian asked, intrigued.

Emma brightened, and animatedly explained the general plot. “So there’s this group of sharks that are living in the water around New York City. And there’s this big storm that’s coming, but no one is listening to the people telling them about the storm so of course no one prepares for the storm. So two tornadoes form over the water picking up all the sharks -”

“Emma.” Killian interrupts her, turning to look at her. “That’s the plot of Sharknado.”

“Sharknado 2: The Second One actually.” She corrects him.

“We are not watching Sharknado 2.” Killian says, chuckling. He hands her a glass of white wine which she accepts as he takes his place on the couch next to her.

“Sharknado 1?”

“Swan.”

“You mean to tell me you have no desire to watch Ian Ziering fight some flying CGI sharks?” She joked. She was clearly teasing him, enjoying the way he laughed at her ridiculous suggestions. Truth be told she’s seen all the movies multiple times. Who doesn’t love a flying CGI shark and an awful romance plot? Emma and her friends had multiple drunk movie nights last semester to watch them all. They provided a good laugh.

Killian laughed. “Aye, how about a real movie?”

“A REAL movie?” Emma feigned offense. “Clearly you have no respect for low-budget disaster films.” She grabbed a handful of popcorn, popping some into her mouth.

Killian nudged her playfully. “I think the low budget disaster movies have no respect for the viewers.”

“That’s the point! But fine.” Emma paused, thinking of a movie. “How about Sharknado 3: Oh Hell No?”

“Again with the flying sharks! You know that you have not listed a single shark documentary yet, love.” Killian jokes, taking a sip of wine.

“What about The Guernsey Literary and Potato Peel Pie Society?” Emma said, taking some popcorn. “It’s one of my favorites. Also Sharknado 4: The 4th Awakens, Sharknado 5: Global Swarming, and The Last Sharknado: It’s About Time are just not as good as the first three so I’m out of flying shark suggestions.” Killian stared at her, jaw nearly hitting the floor at the absurdity of the existence of 6 Sharknado movies and the fact that Emma has clearly seen them all. But her actual suggestion was sincere. It was an intriguing story of love and war and literature that Emma had seen at least 10 times. It reminded her of the power that books had.

“Now we’re getting somewhere.” Killian said eventually, choosing to let the Sharknado movies go. He searched for the film on Netflix and hit play when he found it.

About 20 minutes and a glass of wine later, Emma had snuggled closer to Killian. Partially for warmth, partially because her body reacted instinctively to his being so close. Killian, feeling that Emma was cold against him, reached behind them to grab a blanket, tossing it over them and wrapping an arm around her shoulders. She leaned in closer to him, resting her head against his shoulder.

Her favorite film about writers and readers and the power of literature and love pulled all of the pain of the events of yesterday back to the surface. The weight of her professor’s words were sitting on her chest like a boulder and she couldn’t bear that weight alone anymore Eventually, Emma spoke softly. “I didn’t tell you the whole story last night.” The words spilled effortlessly out of her mouth. There was something about Killian that made her feel safe.  

Killians eyes stayed on the movie as he rubbed his thumb reassuringly over her shoulder. “Aye, I figured.” He wasn’t about to push her to tell him. He wanted to let her know that he saw her and that she could some to him on her own terms.

“Professor Gold told me I shouldn’t be a writer. That I don’t have what it takes and that I should consider another career.” This caught Killian’s attention. He shifted so he was looking right at her.

“What?!” Killian’s accent was thick with concern.

“He was apparently doing me a favor.” Her eyes were wet. Control was slipping from her grasp. She desperately needed to let go. Emma had tried so desperately to tell herself that none of her professor’s words mattered, to pretend like they didn’t affect her. Truth be told, she barely slept last night, constantly being woken up by recurring thoughts that he was right, that she wasn’t good enough, that she was a fraud.

“What kind of person thinks that’s a bloody favor?” Killian interrupted the tightening spiral of her thoughts.

Emma paused, letting the spiral start to slowly unwind. “What if he’s right?” She whispered. The question she’d been asking herself she had finally said out loud. A single tear escaped from her eye that Killian was quick to wipe away.

“He’s wrong. And you’re too stubborn to let him be right.”

“I just - I don’t know if I can do this.” Emma fell apart. She had held everything together until this moment. She didn’t know if she had what it took to survive Cornell. She didn’t have the support system most people had and she certainly didn’t have the resources others did growing up. Her average grades weren’t helping her imposter syndrome. What if she was here by mistake? What if she would never be good enough? What if she didn’t deserve to be here? Tears escaped her eyes faster than Killian could wipe them away.

Killian pulled her close, rubbing her back. “Shhh, love. Shhh. Yes you can.” He kissed the top of her head. Why? He had absolutely no idea. He hoped it would comfort her. “You made it this far. You got here. You got to this point. Fuck what Gold says. Fuck what anyone says.” Emma let herself relax into his arms locked tightly around her as she choked on sobs, tears falling to his shirt.

Then Killian remembered what his brother used to say to him when he was struggling. “You get to make your own choices. Make them based on what makes you happy.” He gently brushed her hair away from her face, tucking it behind her ear. “Does writing make you happy?”

Emma looked up at him. “It’s the only thing that makes me happy.”

“Oi, now I’m slightly offended!” He joked, smiling at her.

Emma tried to fight the smile pulling at her lips. “Your ego is ridiculous.”

“But I got you to smile, no?”

“You always do.” Emma wasn’t joking anymore. The way he looked at her made her heart skip beats and the way he cared for her scared the hell out of her. Something about Killian drew her to him and she didn’t doubt he felt the same. He ensured she was fed during late night studying and provided distractions when she needed a break. It was Killian she found herself going to when she needed to scream to someone.

They returned their attention to the film. While Killian had no idea what was going on, Emma was mesmerized, whispering some of her favorite lines under her breath along with the movie. Killian spent more time watching her than the move, enamored by the way she memorized her favorite parts, the way her brow furrowed when characters she didn’t like appeared, the way she gently hit his chest to shush him every time he attempted to ask what was happening or who a particular character was.

Eventually the movie ended. Emma reluctantly sat up, sighing as she removed herself from Killian’s arms and the warmth of his body.

“Thank you for letting me interrupt your evening. It was nice to be in a bubble for a bit and feel something other then . . . I don’t even know.” Emma said quietly. Killian turned to look at her.

“Then stay in the bubble for a while longer, love.” He held his arm out to her and she settled against him. Emma rested her head on Killian’s chest, draping her arm around his waist. His fingers traced lazy circles on her back. He wanted to be her escape, her bubble where things were good and where she could cry if she needed to. And she had the urge to be his.

For a while they laid like that - content in each other’s arms, clueless to the world around them, shutting out all the pain they both felt. In time they fell asleep for the most restful night either of them had in a long time.

[dylanradio]

Now Playing on DylanRadio.com: Up To Me by Bob Dylan from Previously Unreleased And Rare Stuff

Everything went from bad to worse, money never changed a thing, Death kept followin', trackin' us down, at least I heard your bluebird sing. Now somebody's got to show their hand, time is an enemy, I know you're long gone, I guess it must be up to me. If I'd thought about it I never would've done it, I guess I would've let it slide, If I'd lived my life by what others were thinkin', the heart inside me would've died. I was just too stubborn to ever be governed by enforced insanity, Someone had to reach for the risin' star, I guess it was up to me. Oh, the Union Central is pullin' out and the orchids are in bloom, I've only got me one good shirt left and it smells of stale perfume. In fourteen months I've only smiled once and I didn't do it consciously, Somebody's got to find your trail, I guess it must be up to me. It was like a revelation when you betrayed me with your touch, I'd just about convinced myself that nothin' had changed that much. The old Rounder in the iron mask slipped me the master key, Somebody had to unlock your heart, He said it was up to me. Well, I watched you slowly disappear down into the officers' club, I would've followed you in the door but I didn't have a ticket stub. So I waited all night 'til the break of day, hopin' one of us could get free, When the dawn came over the river bridge, I knew it was up to me. Oh, the only decent thing I did when I worked as a postal clerk Was to haul your picture down off the wall near the cage where I used to work. Was I a fool or not to try to protect your identity? You looked a little burned out, my friend, I thought it might be up to me. Well, I met somebody face to face and I had to remove my hat, She's everything I need and love but I can't be swayed by that. It frightens me, the awful truth of how sweet life can be, But she ain't a-gonna make me move, I guess it must be up to me. We heard the Sermon on the Mount and I knew it was too complex, It didn't amount to anything more than what the broken glass reflects. When you bite off more than you can chew you pay the penalty, Somebody's got to tell the tale, I guess it must be up to me. Well, Dupree came in pimpin' tonight to the Thunderbird Cafe, Crystal wanted to talk to him, I had to look the other way. Well, I just can't rest without you, love, I need your company, But you ain't a-gonna cross the line, I guess it must be up to me. There's a note left in the bottle, you can give it to Estelle, She's the one you been wond'rin' about, but there's really nothin' much to tell. We both heard voices for a while, now the rest is history, Somebody's got to cry some tears, I guess it must be up to me. So go on, boys, and play your hands, life is a pantomime, The ringleaders from the county seat say you don't have all that much time. And the girl with me behind the shades, she ain't my property, One of us has got to hit the road, I guess it must be up to me. And if we never meet again, baby, remember me, How my lone guitar played sweet for you that old-time melody. And the harmonica around my neck, I blew it for you, free, No one else could play that tune, You know it was up to me.

[peanutbutter-and-thumbtacks]

Maid Malevolent

This is a screenplay project I’ve been working on for the last couple of months. I don’t have any long term plans with it, but I wanted to let more people read it. The story does get graphic so if you don’t like blood, violence and themes of domestic violence and sex, this is not for you. 

Please enjoy and if you have any thoughts on the storyline, feel free to share them.

EPISODE I

EXT. FOREST – NIGHT

A thick fog rolls over the old forest floor. Unknown creatures hiss and chirp in the distance as an unseen specter glides through the the underbrush towards something in the distance. It speeds forward, knocking branches and trees out of its way. The ambience has grown now, louder, more demonic in tone. A small cabin emerges out of the darkness, red light pours out from the windows. The specter is growing faster and faster, the cabin growing closer and closer. The ambience has crescendoed and transformed into the blaring scream of an electric guitar. The specter comes up onto the porch and the door flies open to reveal a small rock concert in progress. A mosh pit surrounds the stage as the band stands centerfold. AMY ROSE, a young poet and singer, stands before the audience with her arms outstretched. LORNE, a tall bearded man, stands to Amy's right on bass. To her left, RUTH MARLOWE, a quiet but troubled soul shredding it on the guitar. NED, the drummer, pounds out a hard steady beat as doom metal pounds on.

AMY

(Singing)

Maid Malevolent, spare my soul, I'm not the one that wronged you. They took your girl and your mortal life. Bring the demons their needed hell! Maid Malevolent, you've traveled far, to the future where the wasteland waits. Time and space can't stop you now, burn the wizards army to the ground! Maid Malevolent, the end is nigh, with the coming of Asmodeus. You may be damned or you might just fly. So cross your heart, and hope to die! Legend! Legend! Legend!

Amy takes a step away from the spotlight as Ruth comes in with a earsplitting riff. She seems to be possessed by something greater than herself as she plays. The trauma of an unspoken past echoes through each chord, and the crowd eats it up.

Cut to

A stream of satanic images speed across the screen suddenly. Pentagrams, ritual sacrifices, nuclear annihilation, all culminating in one final image of a glowing red tesseract hovering in space.

Cut Back

RUTH strums the final chord and the crowd is ecstatic. Their cheers imitate the satisfied roars of wild beasts and dinosaurs. The show has been a success. Ruth and Amy look at each other and exchange smiles of approval.

INT. CABIN – LATER

The audience has departed now, and the band is nearly done packing up all their equipment. MARCUS, the band manager, talks with the OWNER of the cabin as he collects the bands earnings for the night. They seem to be quietly arguing over something. Lorne helps Ned pick up the drum set.

OWNER

I made myself perfectly clear. 100 bucks for an hour, that was the deal we agreed on.

MARCUS

Look I feel like I'm not asking for much here.

OWNER

I'm not renegotiating. If you wanted an extra 25 dollars, you should've played an extra 15 minutes.

MARCUS

Look, this band is black magic incarnate, my friend. Last week I witnessed a skinhead convert to Judaism over this fucking music. We're top notch shit. And we've got a whole day of driving ahead of us; gas money is everything. Now imagine in a couple years when these guys hit it big. Do you wanna be known as the guy who made it so we couldn't reach the next gig?

Amy exits from a nearby bathroom and lights a cigarette.

NED

Hey, Amy, do you have the keys to the van?

AMY

Why would I have them? Ruth's the one driving.

NED

Well I don't know where Ruth is. Can you find her so we can put our shit away?

AMY

Fine. You know it's not that hard to go look for her yourself.

LORNE

How are we supposed to find someone that constantly avoids human contact.

NED

You know she hides from us after every show.

AMY

She's not hiding, jackoffs. She likes her space. She's probably outside having a smoke.

(Heads for the front door before looking over at Marcus)

Don't give him too hard of a time, Marc.

MARCUS

Don't criticize me for being a good manager for you people. How about this, 15 dollars and I'll let you keep some merch?

EXT. CABIN – Night

Amy walks out into the fall air. She takes another pull of her cigarette. Above the main doorway she notices a silhouette perched at the entrance. A ladder is conveniently placed to climb up.

Ruth sits performing some form of meditation. She plays with a red rubber band on her wrist. Amy carefully edges her way up next to Ruth.

AMY

Whatcha thinking about?

RUTH

Nothing really. It's kind of the whole point of meditation.

AMY

(Pulls out a cigarette for Ruth)

You'll have to teach me about it sometime. Damn, have you seen the moon?

RUTH

(Lights cigarette with Amy's)

What about it?

AMY

It's crazy looking.

RUTH

(Looks at moon)

Reminds me of a dream I had.

AMY

(Stare at Ruth)

Tell me about it.

The two stare at a glowing red moon. Cigarette smoke floats across the clear autumn sky as the stars shine down on the two.

RUTH

I'm floating through space on some giant rock. And I can see all the planets in the sky. And then there's this bright light hovering over me, looked like the moon. I can feel everything around me moving. Gravity was pulling everything in every direction except for me. I'm... bleeding, but I'm not in pain. And you were there.

AMY

(Slides closer to Ruth)

Really? What was I doing?

RUTH

You were just staring at me. You looked sad, like I did something wrong.

AMY

Why do think you did something?

RUTH

I don't think I did. It was like I just made a difficult decision, and whatever it was I did it for you.

AMY

(Closing in for a kiss)

What happened next?

RUTH

(Puts out her cigarette and places her hand on Amy's cheek)

I think I was going to kiss you, but I woke up before I saw anything else.

AMY

Well that was a dream. This is real.

Amy and Ruth's lips meet at last, but are unfortunately cut short by the guys.

NED

So... how's finding the keys coming along?

AMY

(Takes her time to stop kissing Ruth)

As a matter of fact–

(Holds out Ruths keys)

I just found them.

LORNE

Can we go now? We've got two hours of driving before we're near the next motel.

MARCUS

Actually, that will not be necessary.

INT. VAN – Night – Moving

The band's van rattles down a dirt path on a lonesome forest road. Ruth and Amy sit in the front while Marcus, Lorne, and Ned sit in the back.

NED

So when were you going to tell us that you rented a house?

MARCUS

Well I was–

LORNE

How much did it cost?

MARCUS

It wasn't–

AMY

How much money do we have now?

MARCUS

If you would all please shut up for a moment. It didn't cost anything. I happen to know a guy who lives out here. He was leaving for a fishing trip, and I told him I'd watch the house for a couple days. I was gonna tell you all after the show, but I got stuck arguing with the owner.

RUTH

You were trying to weasel 15 dollars out of him.

MARCUS

I earned that 15 for you all! Don't judge me for trying to help out. And how the hell do you even know what we were talking about? You were on the fucking roof.

AMY

You know the howl of a weasel can be heard up to 5 miles away.

MARCUS

Glad to know I'm appreciated by you all.

RUTH

Just tell us where we're going, Marcus.

MARCUS

(Points out the window)

Take a left here, and follow the road.

A sign up sticks off the road reading:

RISING MOON ROAD

Ruth drives off the main road and into the fog. The road grows narrower as they continue driving.

AMY

Are you sure we're driving in the right direction?

MARCUS

It should be coming up pretty soon.

RUTH

Are we even on a road anymore? If this is the wrong spot, I don't know how I'm gonna get out of here.

NED

Anyone wanna pull up a map?

LORNE

(Looking at his phone)

No luck, we've got no cell signal up here.

MARCUS

I know what my friend, said. It's the first left past the cabin, and... and then he said...

AMY

Have you even been to this place, Marcus?

Marcus says nothing.

NED

You've got to be kidding me.

LORNE

So we're completely lost, great. We should've just headed for the mot–

AMY

LOOK OUT!

Ruth slams the brakes right before plowing into a man standing in the middle of the road. He stares at them, bug-eyed, mumbling something under his breath.

MARCUS

Get out of the road asshole!

He stumbles out of the way of the van and continues walking. As he walks past her window, Ruth notes the mans strange appearance. Tattoos cover his entire body, and his beard is long and gray. He vanishes into the fog behind them.

LORNE

Where the hell did he come from?

NED

Who gives a shit? I just wanna get the fuck out of here.

AMY

(Points ahead)

Look.

The group makes out the dim porch lights of a cabin.

MARCUS

Told you I knew where we were going. Now come on, before more tweakers show up.

AMY

Ruth, are you alright?

RUTH

What?

Amy is staring down at Ruth's side. Her hand is gripped around a small knife hanging off of her belt. Ruth quickly lets go.

RUTH

Yeah... I'm ok.

AMY

Are you sur–

RUTH

Let's keep moving.

The group drives towards the cabin without another word. The strange man watches from a distance.

INT. FRIENDS CABIN

Marcus unlocks the front door and the band enters with their gear. The house is quaint and generally inviting.

MARCUS

The lights should be around somewhere.

Marcus flips a switch, and the room is illuminated. A number of animal heads are mounted on the wall. Lorne notes the double barreled shotgun hanging over the mantle piece by a large hearth.

NED

(Approaching the heath)

If anyone can find me some matches I can get a fire going.

LORNE

First we get everything out of the van. I'm not leaving anything outside. Not with crazy old men wandering around.

Lorne and Ned head back outside to grab the rest of the gear. Ruth walks over to a couch in the lounge area of the room. It folds out into a bed.

MARCUS

There should be two more bedrooms upstairs. You and Ruth can have the main one, and I'll take the guest bedroom.

AMY

Sounds like a plan. How about you head up there now and make sure.

Marcus is about to protest, but stays quiet after Amy gives him a look. He ascends the staircase and leaves Amy and Ruth alone downstairs. Ruth wraps her arms around Amy and tries to kiss her. Amy doesn't reciprocate the feeling, but instead holds out her hand.

AMY

First things first.

RUTH

What?

AMY

You don't need it. We're safe here.

RUTH

I'm not... I'm fine. I'm in control.

AMY

If you're in control, give it to me.

Hesitant, Ruth slowly pulls out her knife and hands it to Amy.

AMY

You don't always need to be protecting me.

RUTH

I'm sorry.

AMY

It's alright. I feel safe enough just being with you.

RUTH

Thank you.

INT. CABIN – Later

A fire is finally going in the hearth, and the band sits around the dining room table. Lorne opens a bottle of Whiskey and pours and the group revel in the drinking. Lorne starts telling a drunken story.

LORNE

So I'm drunk out of my mind right now and we haven't even gotten to the party yet. But I'm an idiot and I feel like a million bucks. And we walk past this store, with one of those big window displays in it. I walk past, and out of nowhere this guy starts talking shit to me. We get into an argument, and then I'm just start screaming at this dude in the middle of the night downtown. Finally I'm like, fuck this guy, and I punch him in the face. Glass shatters in front of me and my hand is bleeding. I punched the window to the store. I'd been arguing with my reflection the whole time. I needed 10 stiches for that cut on my hand. Still stings when it gets cold outside.

NED

I can safely say I've never been that drunk.

AMY

Oh, and you don't have any horror stories you'd like to share?

NED

None like that. But I will say this–

(Rolls up his sleeves to reveal the tattoos on his arms)

–That used to be a girls name, and that also used to be a girls name. And I don't remember either of them in the slightest.

MARCUS

Well that's all well and good. What I wanna know, Ned, is who's Enrique and why is his name tramp stamped on you?

RUTH

Wait what?

NED

You said you wouldn't tell anybody!

MARCUS

You expect me to remember that in my current state?

NED

Fuck you.

AMY

I think we can all agree that Ned is free to love whoever he chooses to love. And I bet Enrique is a wonderful guy.

LORNE

What about you Ruth?

RUTH

What about me?

LORNE

We're all sharing stories. You gotta contribute something to the discussion.

RUTH

I don't really have any stories like that.

MARCUS

Oh come on darling, we've all made poor decisions. That's a part of being in a rock band. You do stupid shit sometimes. So fess up.

RUTH

Honestly, I don't have any good ones.

NED

Doesn't have to be good. I'm gonna be pissed off if we end this on my stupid decisions.

AMY

Guys, don't pressure her to–

RUTH

I've got one. I don't remember it very well, but here goes.

LORNE

We're all ears.

RUTH

So my dad used to keep all his guns in this tool shed next to our garage. He never let me go in there because he didn't trust me. But one day, I noticed where he hid the key for the shed. Bottom drawer by his bed. So I snuck into his room when he went to bed, got the key, and opened up the shed. And there was a ton of shit in there. Rifles, Shotguns, a fucking chainsaw– He was logger. And I notice this clear bottle lying on the floor. I pick it up and it's vodka. My dad liked to drink while he cleaned his guns. So, being a curious little kid, I took a sip, and then another. And another. Eventually I'm holding a shotgun in my hand. I'm 9 and I'm wasted. Then, I hear this scream come from behind me. I whip around just in time to see a raccoon right before I pulled the trigger.

NED

Holy fuck!

RUTH

And I don't remember looking at the raccoon as I did it. I just remember this red mist in the air when I opened my eyes. I'm also covered in raccoon guts. The whole neighborhood is awake now. Dogs are barking, Nina Parker, the old widow across the street, is wandering out on the lawn. And the icing on the cake was that the fucking cops showed up. It was a shit show.

MARCUS

Now that's a story right there. What the hell did your dad do when he found out?

RUTH

My dad? Um... he came outside, saw me holding the gun and–

Cut to

A young Ruth is seen cowering before the figure of her father. She's screaming but no sound is heard. Her father holds up his belt, lunges at Ruth and–

Cut Back

RUTH

He grounded me for two weeks... and decided to make chili with the racoon.

AMY

That's disgusting.

LORNE

Nah, that's just a Sunday in an RV camp.

RUTH

(Finishes her drink and stands)

Well, I think I'm gonna call it a night.

MARCUS

Oh come on, you can't call it quits now. This was just starting to get get fun.

RUTH

Unless someone else wants to drive tomorrow, which I doubt because you're all gonna be shit faced, I'm gonna need all the sleep I can get.

(Grabs her guitar, heads upstairs)

You know where to find me if you need me.

Ruth heads upstairs without another word. Amy follows close behind. She doesn't say another word to the rest of the group. The three men are left alone to their own devices.

MARCUS

(Pours another round of whiskey for the group)

Well, here's to another successful show.

LORNE

Cheers. So... what are we supposed to now?

Without a word, Ned reaches under the table and pulls up a small carved jewelry box. He smiles to himself for a moment, and then reveals.

LORNE

Whatcha got there, Dope Fiend?

NED

Half a pound of Electric Wizard.

LORNE

Nice.

MARCUS

And that?

NED

And what?

MARCUS

That.

Everyone looks in to see something else in the box. A small vial seems to glow an electric pink.

NED

Oh no, we're not doing that.

MARCUS

Oh come on, don't tease us like that.

LORNE

Is it dangerous?

NED

Potentially.

LORNE

What the hell is it?

NED

It's... a hallucinogen. Little bit of this, little bit of that.

MARCUS

Does it have penicillin in it?

NED

Uh... no.

MARCUS

Good. I'm allergic to penicillin.

NED

That should be the least of your worries with this.

LORNE

Ned, where the hell did you get something like this? Who did you even buy it from?

NED

Where doesn't matter, but they do live under a bridge.

MARCUS

Ned, I'm here to make stupid decisions tonight. So let me make stupid decisions.

NED

Marcus, I’m not joking, this shit will melt your face off.

LORNE

Then why do you even have it?

MARCUS

Yeah, you know what I think? I think you know that this is next level shit, and you want it all for yourself. Well as your manager, I am demanding you let us try this. If I'm gonna get fucked, I want it to be memorable.

The trio falls silent as each tries to read the others mind. The message conveyed, Ned opens the vial and takes out a dropper.

NED

Trust me, no one is gonna want to remember tonight.

INT. BEDROOM – Night

The room is dark except for a couple candles and the moonlight pouring in. Ruth lays on the bed with her guitar, quietly strumming a tune. Amy enters and starts to undress. She crawls into bed with Ruth and snuggles up next to her.

RUTH

I've been working on a new riff for when we get back in a studio.

AMY

Sounds metal. I mean everything you come up with is metal.

RUTH

Thanks.

AMY

I wish I had someone to teach me how to play growing up.

RUTH

It was the closest thing to therapy growing up. Whenever I felt bad, I just picked up the guitar and started playing. Only good my blood did for me.

AMY

You don't really talk about your family.

RUTH

Not much to say. We were all fucked up, and no one wanted to help us.

AMY

Why did you lie to them?

RUTH

(Sigh)

They didn't need to know, I guess.

AMY

You don't have to go easy on anyone. That's why you're here. These are the kind of people you can open up to. I know they feel like a lot, but they're not gonna judge you. I'm not gonna judge you. Everyone can be human here.

RUTH

Sometimes I just don't wanna be human.

(Brushes a scar across Amy's neck)

What good have humans done for you?

Amy takes hold of Ruth's hand. She kisses Ruth's callused and blisters fingers, and then places it against her breast. Ruth sets the guitar down on the floor.

AMY

I'd say this one has done a lot.

Ruth blows out the candles, and embraces her lover.

EXT. FOREST – Night

The wind has begun to pick up, and the trees moan and rock with the breeze. FOGERT, the crazy old man from earlier, is still wandering down the road. Through chattering teeth he mumbles a song to himself.

FOGERT

(Incoherent)

I see a bad moon a-rising. I see trouble on the way.

Fogert stops walking and stairs up into a tree. A single Raven looks down upon him from its perch. It doesn't make a sound. Fogert continues on with a quickened stride.

FOGERT

I hear hurricanes a-blowing, I know the end is coming soon. I fear rivers overflowing.

Fogert trails off as an extra strong gust of wind pushes against him. He shields his face from the cold. Fogert feels a strange sensation rush over him. Not the cold, it's something far more sinister.

FOGERT

I hear... the voice of rage and ruin.

An ambient red glow appears down the road ahead. A low rumble follows with it. Fogerts hands begin to tremble, and he grasps at a necklace around his neck. He mutters a jumble of words that don't make any sense. It sounds Latin. An incantation. The light grows brighter, as does the noise. A single thought runs through Fogert's head, hide.

He ducks into the thicket and behind a tree. His body is overtaken by fear, as a jet black car with red headlights rounds the bend. Fogert doesn't make a sound. His heartbeat pounds inside his head. The car slowly comes to stop in front of the tree. The drivers window lowers a crack. Bright red light pours out along with thick black smoke. Fogert hears a low growl like a tiger from within.

Tears roll down Fogert's face. Death has never been closer to him than it has right now. Suddenly, the window rolls back up, and the car drives off. Fogert doesn't leave his hiding spot until the sound of the engine is gone. As Fogert comes out of hiding, he hears the spreading of wings. The Raven leaps from it's perch and sails over Fogert's head, following after the car.

Fogert breaks into a sprint in the opposite direction. He follows the road until suddenly running off into the woods. He trips and stumbles his way to a small hut hidden away.

INT. FOGERTS HUT

He runs inside, locks the door behind him, and closes all the blinds. One by one he lights all the candles scattered about the hut.

FOGERT

I hope you got your things together, I hope you are quite prepared to die.

Old books, artifacts and empty bottles of booze are scattered about. He clears a space in the middle of the hut and draws a circle with salt.

FOGERT

Looks like we're in for nasty weather. One eye is taken for an eye.

He sits in the middle of the circle and clings to the necklace around his neck. He bows his head to worship a mural etched on one of the walls. A six armed man with a goat for a head meditates, the mark of the beast is etched across his chest.

FOGERT

Don't go round tonight, it's bound to take your life. There's a bad moon on the rise.

INT. CABIN – The Witching Hour

Ruth and Amy lay asleep in bed, naked. Music is faintly heard echoing throughout the house. A record plays downstairs: The End by The Doors. Lorne, Marcus, and Ned lie in a circle on the floor. They stair wide eyed at the ceiling. The fire still burns strong. Marcus takes a drag from a joint and passes it to Ned. He starts to cough, and crawls towards the kitchen sink. He pours himself a glass of water. He stares into the glass. Sparkling light and flickers of color dance through the water. When Ned pulls the glass away, Imps and goblins dance around his feet.

NED

I think I might– I'm about to– Yep... I'm freaking out right now. There's demons in the house.

MARCUS

Calm down. They probably work for the Feds. We should smoke the rest of the weed so there's no evidence.

LORNE

(Takes a hit from the joint)

Way ahead of you man.

Ned wanders back towards the guys, but stops and stairs out the window. A black car with red headlights has parked in front of the cabin.

NED

You guys see what I'm seeing?

MARCUS

See what?

NED

...Nothing.

Ned opens the door and stands in the doorway of the cabin. He stares at the car. The bright red lights are hypnotic.

NED

Damn, this shit is crazier than I thought.

The driver door flies open. More red light radiates from within. Smoke pours out from within the car. It crawls across the ground like a low hanging mist. The driver steps out onto the grass. Ned doesn't move, he's frozen in place as he stairs at the horror before him.

A mesh of leather, latex and metal is illuminated by the blood red light. It's face is concealed beneath a jet black motorcycle helmet decorated with spikes. Immense in stature, and utterly depraved. There is no face to look at, no eyes to humanize it.

And yet, as Ned stares into the black void of it's visor, he can sense... lust. Is it real, or just an illusion? Has his mind merely imagined this avatar of sadomasochism? This Gimp from Hell?

Ned gets an answer, just not the one he wanted. The Gimp pulls out a massive pistol.

NED

Oh...

A gunshot cuts through the night like thunder. Hot shrapnel rips through Ned's stomach–– In and out. He is thrown backwards onto the ground.

Ruth lurches up in bed, awoken by the gunfire.

AMY

What's going on?

RUTH

(Quickly putting on her clothes)

Something's wrong. Something's very wrong.

Lorne and Marcus lurch upright to see Ned, riving in pain.

MARCUS

What the fuck!

Lorne sees the Gimp approach the cabin. He scrambles to his feet and grabs the shot gun off the mantle. Luckily, it's already loaded. The Gimp walks through the door, it's shoulders are so broad that they rip the door frame off the wall. The Gimp aims it's gun at Lorne and Marcus.

LORNE

GET DOWN!

Marcus and Lorne dive behind the couch as a barrage of bullets rip through the furniture. Marcus bolts for the upstairs, and catches a bullet in the ankle. He collapses onto the stairs in agony. The Gimp approaches Marcus with a low primal growl. Another victim to abuse.

RUTH

(Upstairs)

Where's my knife? Amy, what did you do with my knife?

AMY

You're not going down there!

Lorne pops up behind the Gimp and fires into the back of it's head. The buckshot bounces off like rubber and back into Lorne's face. Lorne staggers away unable to see. He trips over a coffee table and falls right in front of the fire.

The Gimp stands over Lorne, and pushes him into the fire with one of it's giant boots. Lorne bursts into flames, screaming and riving in pain. The Gimp doesn't move, he holds Lorne to the fire until it's done.

The Gimp turns it's gaze back to Ned, crawling into the kitchen. The Gimp enters the kitchen and takes a kitchen knife. He grabs Ned's hair and exposes his neck. The Gimp proceeds to cut through his throat and decapitates him. The Gimp admires it's new toy as Lorne's burning corpse sets fire to the carpet and begins to spread.

Marcus has managed to crawl upstairs and Ruth and Amy pull him into their bedroom.

AMY

Oh my god, Marcus! What's going on? Are we being robbed?

RUTH

Where's Ned and Lorne?

MARCUS

T-that... that thing. It... it fucking killed them!

The Gimps heavy footsteps are heard ascending the staircase. The whole house seems to shake. The bedroom door is knocked off it's hinges as The Gimp enters the room. Ned's severed head is pressed into the Gimps crotch.

AMY

Oh my god!

Ruth grabs her knife off the nightstand and gets in front of Amy and Marcus.

RUTH

Get downstairs and start the van.

MARCUS

The whole downstairs is on fire. Don't you see the smoke?

They're trapped. The Gimp inches towards them, growling. There's nowhere to go. Ruth locks eyes with Amy. If this is it, she wants to look at her one last time.

The Gimp presses forward. Ruth charges at it, knife raised. With a swipe from one of it's massive arms, The Gimp sends Ruth flying across the room and smashes into the wall. She lies on the ground motionless. The Gimp goes to finish the job.

AMY

Ruth!

The Gimp suddenly turns its gaze on Amy. It tilts it's head as if to admire her beauty. Marcus steps between them.

MARCUS

Fuck you, you fucking freak!

The Gimp roars at Marcus. He has stepped between an alpha and it's mate. The Gimp picks up Marcus and slams him on the ground. It picks him back up and proceeds to smash his head into the wall over and over and over and over again until there's nothing left.

There's only Amy now. She tries to run but The Gimp pushes her into a corner of the room. It towers over her, the spikes protruding from it's jacket piercing into her skin. The Gimp strokes Amy's cheek with one of it's massive hands, spreading blood and bits of Marcus's brain across her face. Violated doesn't begin to describe what Amy is feeling.

Before the harassment can go on, a knife is driven into The Gimps back, crying out in pain. Ruth has reentered the fight. She's bloody and bruised, but alive.

RUTH

Get the fuck away from her!

The Gimp whirls around, and grabs Ruth by the wrist. Her bones can be heard breaking under the pressure. Then, in one swift motion, The Gimp sends Ruth flying through the window. She rolls off the roof, cutting herself on the glass, bounces off the roof of the van, and unto the cold wet ground.

The Gimp grabs Amy, and drags her towards the stairs. She screams and cries for help, but no one is there to save her. The fire has spread to most of downstairs as The Gimp leaves the way it came. It's work has been done. A monument to agony and suffering. Amy pulls and punches at The Gimps arm, but it's useless.

The Gimp takes Amy to the back of it's car and pops the trunk. It forces her into the boot. Right as it's about to lock Amy inside–

RUTH

Let... her... go.

Ruth, bleeding, crippled, and barely able to stand, limps towards The Gimp. It doesn't matter if she can't win, she's not letting this thing take the one thing she cares about. The Gimp watches Ruth's valiant attempt at walking, seemingly amused. It pulls out it's pistol and unloads the clip into Ruth. The bullets don't stop until Ruth hits the ground.

AMY

NO!

Amy bursts into tears as The Gimp slams the trunk closed, plunging her into darkness. Her muffled cries are heard as The Gimp gets back into his car, and drives away. The house is consumed by fire, and the bodies inside are reduced to ash. Only the corpse of Ruth remains. Lifeless, bloodied, the victim of a force greater than herself. All witnessed by the watchful eye of a lone raven.

[evapunk333]

Confession/Confession-Confessional Sex (NSFW)

For @ghostbcfandomevents. I strongly recommend that you do read my ongoing FanFic if you want to know more about the characters...but if you just want smut..that's fine too. But here's the link if you want to read that first..

"Forgive me Cardinal for I have sinned, and it was not one of the good ones. It's been…uh..shit, I guess about 6 months since my last confession. Probably too long, but what I did this time was really bad." The Sister delayed telling him, it was hard for her to say.

"Your Cardinal can't forgive you if you don't tell me child."

"Yes, of course. Sorry. Uh, well..what I did was not tell a lover of mine about a previous lover that I was still seeing, well 2 previous lovers I was still seeing if you want to get technical about it."

"This is a grievous sin my child. Even if people call our Lord Satan, The Great Deceiver, he values honesty, even if it does hurt."

"Yes, I am aware. But it's not like I deliberately tried to deceive anyone. I was just waiting for the right time, and I guess time got away from me. Plus, I was not sure of my feelings for my newest lover until now. But now I realize that I care for him SO much. And I'm SO sorry for not realizing I was being so stupid! So please Cardinal, I beg of you, can you forgive me?"

Tears started to well up in her eyes. She could hear a sigh coming from the other side of the thin wall. Suddenly, the door to the wall opened. She quickly ducked over to the other side and prostrated herself at the feet of the seated Cardinal and began to cry in his lap.

"Please Copia, forgive me. I didn't know that Dewdrop would get so incredibly jealous. I figured that he would understand eventually since he knows I love him too. I'm just SO sorry he hit you." She looked up at Copia and noticed his bruised nose and slight scratches on his face. She knew that he had a black eye as well, but it was hard to see under the paint around his eyes.

Copia just looked at her not quite knowing what to say. But he knew that he hated to see her in tears, practically begging for his forgiveness.

"I don't know Gwyn. I can forgive Dew for his impulsiveness, but why did you not tell me? Or him for that matter?"

"I don't know, I knew I would eventually but just kept putting it off. I guess I was just afraid. Afraid you wouldn't be ok with sharing me with your 2 guitarists. Afraid Dew would break up with me. Afraid you wouldn't understand that I still had feelings for you even if I did also have feelings for Aether and Dew. Ugh…I just fucked up! I'm so stupid to have let it go on this long! I just don't want to choose..I want all of you. Please don't make me choose..."

She put her head in his lap again. Copia ran his hand over her head to calm her. He also didn't quite know what to feel. He could tell she was sorry for what she had done, but he didn't really envy the thought of sharing her with 2 other people. This was completely new territory for him. However, the thought of not having her around hurt far more than knowing he had to share his time with her. He knew what he had to do.

"Tesoro, look at me please."

Gwyn followed his command and looked up at him. Her eyes were red and tears still streamed down her face. Copia took her face in his hands and used his thumbs to wipe away some of her tears.

"I will not make you choose. But I cannot guarantee that this will work. However, I care for you too deeply to lose you." Copia sighed again, "so..your Cardinal forgives you."

Gwyn was so ecstatic that she almost squealed as she hopped up onto Copia's lap and wrapped her legs around him. Copia grunted at the sudden weight he was not prepared for.

"Oh Copia, thank you, thank you, thank you!"

She proceeded to kiss him all over his face amidst her expressions of gratitude. Copia tried to kiss her back when he could, but her lips were moving around on his face so much that he could only make awkward attempts. Finally, when he'd had enough, he stopped her face with his hands and kissed her properly. As the kiss lengthened, he noticed that she was grinding her hips into his groin. He could feel himself harden a little due to the friction.

He broke away from the kiss, "Gwyn, what are you doing. We cannot do this here."

"Why not?"

She went back to kissing him and grinding her hips into him. It was starting to drive Copia a little insane.

He broke away from the kiss again, "Because I still have confessions to take."

"No you don't. I waited until everyone was gone. We're alone." She went back to kissing him again while unbuttoning her habit dress to get it more easily over her head.

Copia stopped the kiss again, "Are you positive?"

"Sweet Satan, yes!"

She kissed him again, but this time Copia didn't kiss back, he just did his best to speak with her mouth on his.

"Gwyn, we really shouldn't do this here. What if someone comes back and hears us?"

She stopped and gave him a glaring, annoyed look.

"Cardinal Copia!, please do not make me wait. I waited all day to apologize to you and I've also spent most of the day worried I might never get to see you again. I need you so bad right now!"

She stared at him with the biggest doe eyes and most pouty bottom lip that he had ever seen on her.

"Please?"

Needless to say, Copia caved…

He shrugged his shoulders in acceptance and went back to kissing her while unbuttoning his cassock. Gwyn finally removed her habit dress, she was wearing nothing underneath. Copia also didn't bother with wearing much of anything under his cassock today so once his arms were free, he only needed to pull the rest down over his knees, a process that was aided by the Gwyn. Once disrobed, Copia's cock throbbed between the two of them. Gwyn wasted no time and immediately mounted herself on him. They both let out a guttural moan at the feeling of finally becoming one.

"Fuck, you were not kidding."

Gwyn wrapped her arms around his neck for leverage and lifted herself up and down in his lap. "I missed you so much Copia."

Copia gripped her ass in his hands and squeezed, his hips thrusted to meet her every motion.

"I missed you too tesoro."

Gwyn moaned deeply when he spoke, "Fuck I love it when you call me that!"

Copia grinned at her and drove into her deeper, her pace quickened on top of him. The chair Copia sat in creaked dangerously, like it might fall apart any second. Realizing that they were putting too much stress on the chair, Copia made a decision.

"Wait, ugh..stop."

Gwyn stopped, but was confused since she was getting so close to what she needed. Copia lifted her off of him and they both stood up as best they could in the small space. He bid her to bend over the chair and grab ahold of the ledge behind it while he stood behind her. He entered her again, but this time he set the pace of their lovemaking. He was slow and methodical, reaching as far as he could inside her and backing all the way out to leave her aching for more. To make sure that her clit was not abandoned, he bent over her back and reached around her waist. His fingers slipped between her lips easily and he found what he was looking for. As he thrusted inside her, his fingertips worked on her engorged clit, playing it like one of his Ghoul's played guitar. With his other hand, he cupped her breast and felt the hardness of her nipple against his palm. He allowed the sensitive nub to rub gently against his hand as they moved in rhythm.

With multiple erogenous zones stimulated, he could feel her tighten around him. He moved faster, sweat dripping from his brow at the exertion. Soon a strained noise escaped her lips and her hand slapped harshly against the wall of the confessional. He could feel her stomach clench and then her entire body went slack.

Copia knew it was his turn now. He put both hands on her hips and pounded into her relentlessly. Gwyn whimpered, but Copia continued chasing his release. As he dug his fingers into her hips, he could feel his thighs ache. But then finally the wave washed over him and he spilled all of his love inside her.

In the aftermath, his knees nearly buckled but he steadied himself on Gwyn's back who was still bending over in front of him. Once recovered, he kissed her back and stood up, as did Gwyn. She turned around to face him and they kissed again, this time much more languidly. When the kiss was over, they both just stood there naked holding each other. They were both sweaty and hot in the cramped space, and their skin stuck together. But none of that really mattered because neither of them really wanted to let the other go. Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, Copia spoke up, "Now how on earth are we going to fix your relationship Dewdrop?"

[cynicallystiles]

Beach Sunrises: Fallin’ All in You

Author: @cynicallystiles

Warning: Sooo this was supposed to be all fluff but I’m incapable of not including angst. Angst, FLUFF, fights, hurt feelings, slight smut but not really.

Pairing: Shawn Mendes x Reader

Summary: While on tour one day, Shawn sees a woman watching the sunrise by herself. Thinking that he’ll never see her again, he tries to forget as he goes on with the rest of his day. But, serendipity seems to have other ideas…

Notes: So, I’m real emotional as I type this right now because this is the final chapter for this series. I’ve spent my entire summer mainly working on this one and it’s very close to my heart. I deeply appreciate everyone who took the time to read and support this fic. All I can say is thank you, and I hope you enjoy the finale of Beach Sunrises.

P.S. There is definitely a parallel to the finale of Smallville. I’m actually crying, don’t @ me. I had to pay homage to my childhood otp.

PLEASE REBLOG OR COMMENT if you like it! I always welcome messages and asks about my work! Enjoy!

Masterlist

Series Masterlist

Part 11

Words: 10,425

3 Years Later

I finally turn the key with one hand while the other holds bags of groceries and my phone is pressed between my ear and my shoulder. My hand can't get a grip on the key because of the gloves I'm wearing, so I'd been struggling for a few minutes.

Obviously, I'm not used to having to wear a lot of cold weather gear, having spent most of my life on one warm coast or the other. The crazy part is that it's October and it's way colder than it got even in the winter down there. I guess that's what I get for moving way up north.

"What? Yeah, no. I heard you...I'm just currently trying to multitask," I explain while I nudge open the door to the condo as I listen to the person ramble frantically on the other end of the line. Sighing heavily, I kick the door closed and set the bags on the kitchen island. "You did what?"

I begin to put perishables away as they continue apologizing for the mistake they made with the footage I needed. This is my typical work phone call now. I try to take a few extra vacation days off the entire year and things fall apart without me. A few off for any holidays. Another for a birthday. And two days in October. The day of my birthday and the day after. Since both of them are important dates.

Pinching the bridge of my nose, I take the call to my office so I can look at plans while I instruct them on how to fix what they messed up. Five years ago, I never would have thought that I'd be the most sought after documentary film director for the stars. Not to mention editor as well. After the success of Hailee's documentary, the offers came pouring in. I got a personal request from Niall wanting to snag me next...and of course, I directed Shawn's next big tour...then it was 5 Seconds of Summer...and so on until now.

After about thirty minutes of me explaining the same simple fix over and over, I finally hang up the phone. I head down the hall to the bedroom and change into what I'm wearing for my date for my birthday. A content smile creeps onto my lips as I look around the vast room. Film posters and white Christmas lights litter the walls as well as a few bookshelves with books and great movies. In between, are carefully displayed guitars in stands or on wall mounts. I never would have thought that I'd be here right now.

You see, after my 23rd birthday where Shawn revealed to the entire world that he's in love with me and the next morning on the beach where I revealed the same to him...we agreed to give us a shot. It's been three years and Shawn has put out two more albums and done as many tours. I've been around the world several times over directing documentaries for bands and artists. It sounds extremely busy for both of us, right?

Neither of us thought it would be so hard. In fact, within the first year and a half, we were arguing so much about not having enough time for each other that I thought maybe it was too difficult. I thought maybe our careers would really be too much for both of us to handle. But, like always, Shawn surprised me with his solution.

~

"I'm just saying that it's not my fault that I can't be there to answer every single phone call, Shawn! I'm really busy all the time!" I yell as I storm out of his bedroom and toward the front door.

He sighs heavily, his feet padding the floor as he follows me. "And I'm just saying that it's not that hard to shoot a text when you get a free minute or let me know you made it to the next city safe, y/n," he says delicately. His calm tone just infuriates me more. He never raises his voice to the same level I get to.

"Ugh!" I half-groan, half-screech as I put on my coat aggressively. "I'm sorry that I'm forgetful! Okay?! But...Jesus, Shawn! The whole world doesn't revolve around you! SOME OF US HAVE ACTUAL JOBS!" I regret it as soon as it leaves my lips. His face looks like I've struck him as his mouth parts and his eyes widen. I wish I could take it back but I can't. And I can't apologize because I'm too stubborn and proud and my body is running on the adrenaline of being constantly badgered about texting him every goddamn minute.

He closes his mouth and places his hands on his hips as he looks down. The blood rushing in my ears finally slows down and the fire flooding my skin dissipates enough for me to see reason. I've always had a cruel knack for hitting someone where it hurts. And in the moment, when I'm angry...I don't hold back. Whether or not what I say is how I actually feel.

"I..." I try to find the words to make up for it. "Sorry...god," I sigh as I lean my back against the door and rest my head on it. I close my eyes and bite my lip and try to keep my tears of frustration in check.

He clears his throat and I tilt my head back to normal to look at him. "My career is just as real as yours is," he says in a serious tone.

"I know," I mumble as I look at the ground and toe the carpet. The look on his face says he's not done speaking so I let him continue instead of making it worse.

I hear him scoff and I venture a glance back up at him. His eyes stare at me intensely. "I work just as hard as you do. Just because I didn't go to college doesn't mean-"

"I know!" I interrupt him and move forward, grabbing his hands in mine. He looks down at me, puppy-dog pout on his lips. "I shouldn't have said it. I-I didn't even mean it, babe. I swear," I squeeze his hands.

"Then, why did you?" He asks, his hands letting go of mine to rub up and down my arms soothingly.

I shrug. "I just...this is hard, okay? It's harder than I thought it was going to be to do. We're both busier than ever and we're hardly ever in the same town...and when we are it's, like, one day together. I don't even get to wake up next to you and-" My rambling stops at the sound of his chuckling. I look up at him squinting. "Well if this is just a big joke to you..." I say as I turn toward the door.

"No! Honey, I'm sorry. It's just," he licks his lips trying to contain his amused grin. "If you're upset about us not spending enough time together then...why don't you move in with me?"

My eyebrows furrow momentarily. "What?"

"Move in with me, y/n. Here," he continues and my features soften.

My mouth parts and I don't know what to say. "Shawn...how is that supposed to fix anything?"

"It won't. Not completely," he admits with a shrug. "But, it's the first step in easing this distance between us. I know this is new to you...and it is to me to...but I love you and we both have to work every day to make it easier."

I nod slowly as I look at the ground and then back into his warm brown eyes. "I love you too, and you're right...I've just been expecting it to come easily and forgot that for us to work we both have to put in the effort. I'm sorry..."

"It's okay, baby," he mumbles as his lips press to my forehead. "But, if you move in...I promise it'll help. Living in the same space will give us more chances to see each other. Plus, it'll give us even more incentive to make time to come home..." he promises.

I bite my lip to hide my smile. "Home," I giggle slightly. "I like the sound of that..." I look up at him through my long eyelashes and his grin grows wider.

"Yeah?" He asks excitedly. I nod. "Yes! Oh my god, I love you so much," he gushes as he sweeps me up in his arms. I laugh giddily as he sets me back down. "One thing though...were you really gonna leave and walk around Toronto in your pajamas? It's two a.m.," he chuckles.

I roll my eyes as I softly slap his bicep. "Oh, fuck off," I say sarcastically as he brings his lips to mine triumphantly.

~

So, I moved in. And he was right. We see more of each other than we ever have and we're happy. When both of us get a break, we come home and we spend time together. Like I said before, we also make sure to take off days throughout the year for important dates. We're compromising where we can and it's working.

I move about the kitchen happily to put away the rest of the groceries and dance to the music I've put on. Anticipation flutters in my stomach because Shawn is supposed to be home any minute now. And then we're doing the same traditions for my 26th birthday that we've been doing since my 23rd.

But, I'm so lost in the music I've put on that I can't really hear much else. Of course, when Shawn's not home I blast his music. I was a fan first, after all. My shoulders roll and my body sways as I drag my socks across the floor like I'm an actual dancer. I get out the mugs and the bowl for popcorn and do a little twirl.

As I'm turning, I see a figure leaning against the doorframe. I jump in place and clutch my heart, only letting out a tiny yelp of surprise. As my heart begins to return to normal, he chuckles and sets his bags down. A beaming grin takes over my face as I don't hesitate to run and jump into his arms, wrapping my legs around his waist.

I pepper his face with kisses as his hands held me in place by my thighs. When I'm done with my barrage of affection I lean back and look deeply into his eyes. "You could've announced yourself, ya know," I scold him playfully.

"What fun would that be? I like when you dance like no one's watching," Shawn confesses lovingly. I shake my head with a reluctant smile and lean forward to capture his lips with mine. It's full of longing and all the weeks I've been waiting to touch him.

He carries me back to the bedroom effortlessly, neither of us caring about our previous plans. Because, in truth, this was the first step in our tradition for my birthday. I'd get home first, and go shopping. Then, he would get home and we'd make up for all the time we didn't have together wrapped up in the soft covers of our bed.

I hum as his soft lips make contact with the sensitive skin above my collarbone. "Mm...your perfume smells so good," he sighs as his mouth continues to leave marks.

"Thanks," I giggle at his goofiness because he says it every time. "It's yours actually." I bite my lip as he pops his head up to look at me astonished. "What?" I giggle more.

He shakes his head incredulously. "Have I mentioned I love you?" His eyes flick from my eyes to my lips repeatedly.

I shrug. "It sounds vaguely familiar..." I tease and we continue re-explore each other again.

Sometime later, I put my pajamas back on and head to the kitchen while he changes into his. Yes, our big birthday tradition is wearing pajamas and staying at home to watch as much Harry Potter as we can. So, I put the popcorn in the microwave and mosey into the living room while I wait.

I sit at the piano and let my fingers tap the keys. Shawn's kept his promise to teach me how to play and so I play the first thing I fully learned: the Harry Potter theme. I start out slowly and hesitant. He comes around the corner and stands behind me while resting his hands on my shoulders. I giggle as he tickles my neck and mess up a key, but I go faster nonetheless. By the end of it, it sounds like an upbeat song at a pub and I slam the final keys triumphantly as we fall into laughter.

The microwave beeps and we move to the kitchen to finish preparing snacks. I hand the popcorn bag to Shawn and he puts it in a bowl while I put in a different bag and hit the start button. While that pops, I get out the electric kettle and heat up the milk for the hot chocolate. It always tastes so much better when you use milk instead of water.

Soon, the popcorn and hot chocolate are done and we settle into the couch. My Newt Scamander mug sits on the coffee table in front of me as I take a few bites of my kettle corn. Shawn sits down with his arm gently around my shoulders and I lean into him as we start the movie. Since both of us have seen it a million times over, we mainly talk during the whole thing.

"Rent's due next week, by the way," he reminds me thoughtfully as he knows that I usually forget.

I take a sip of cocoa. "Yeah. I actually remembered this time," I chuckle. "Already transferred the money to the joint account...Our invitation finally came in."

"Yeah?" He asks as he eats a handful of some buttered popcorn from his bowl. I nod as we switch bowls to share the two different flavors. "So what date did they set?"

I squint one eye as I look at the ceiling. "March...sixteenth...I think? Next year? Don't quote me on that," I giggle as I crunch the savory snack. "It's on the fridge, you can look before bed."

He nods and I can feel his eyes linger on me as mine go back to the screen. After a few minutes of feeling his stare, I pause the movie and then turn to him. I raise my eyebrows to ask him what's on his mind.

He blushes and looks away briefly before swallowing. "So...I was thinking..." he begins nervously.

"Oh, no. That's never good," I tease and he cracks a smile before playfully shoving my shoulder. I laugh and grab another handful of popcorn.

He swallows again, and my smile fades a little bit as I see how nervous he is. "Anyway...we've been living together for, like a year and a half, and we share the rent and all that. We've been dating for longer..."

"Shawn, spit it out," I say as anxiety rises in my chest.

Taking a deep breath he finally says it. "I was wondering if you wanted to share a phone plan...ya know it'd be cheaper and what not."

"That's what you wanted to ask?" I question incredulously. The way he was acting made me think he was gonna propose or something. He nods. "That's sweet, but I'm fine with the one I have."

I try to turn the movie back on but he stops me. "You're fine with yours? That's it?"

I sigh as I look him intently in the eyes. "Yes."

"I don't believe you," he states.

Rolling my eyes, I reply with a scoff, slightly mimicking his voice, "I don't care." He bites the inside of his cheek as he tries to fight off his amusement.

"Are you ever gonna stop quoting what I say in interviews?" I shake my head with a wry smile. "Fine. But, I know there's more to it than that. It took literal months to convince you to get a joint account for the bills instead of you just writing me a check every month. I felt like your landlord or something..."

I try to hold in a snort but fail a little bit. "I mean..." I begin to tease before I see the look of exasperation on his face. I take a breath to compose myself. "Sorry. Um...why is this phone plan so important to you?"

"I dunno," he shrugs. "I guess I'm just trying to build a connected life with you."

"Through...joint bank accounts...and...phone plans..." I double-check.

He sighs. "I know it sounds stupid, but I feel like you want to have all your things separate to make it easier for you to leave..."

"Not easier for me to leave," I mumble. "Just a cleaner break when you decide you don't want this." My lips purse as I stare at my lap.

He groans from beside me. "Why in the hell would I ever do that? How many times do I have to convince you that I'm not going anywhere??"

"Because eventually you're gonna get tired of all my stupid and irrational behavior..." I sigh. "I'm selfish and jealous and needy and very impulsive and bipolar...and a whole lot of other things that just add stress. Your forever person is gonna be someone who lifts the weight off of your shoulders. Not adds to it."

I pick at my fingernails as I stare absentmindedly at the wall. "You're not selfish," he says after a beat. I look up at him bewilderedly.

"How is that?"

"You just told me, y/n. You kept yourself closed off from me because you wanted to protect me. How is that selfish? You say that you're needy and impulsive...but isn't everyone to a certain degree? I know I fucking am. You've already lost it several times because I text you every spare second I have on tour. You have a million voicemails on your phone because I wanted to hear your voice despite the time differences. Everyone wants to know that the person they love most loves them just as much," he rambles and I crack a small smile.

He continues on, "I know about impulsive too. This fucking eight on my finger is proof that I have zero impulse control. Everyone has highs and lows, y/n. Maybe not to the degree that you do, but that's not your fault. Since day one, you have been making decisions about us based on what you think is best for my career and my heart. That is so beyond selfless, I can't even explain it in words."

"I just don't want you to have to worry about taking care of me on top of everything else," I bite the inside of my lip.

"I'm not worried about that, honey," he promises as his hand reaches out to caress my cheek. "Because we take care of each other. That's how it's always been. And I promise you, it's how it's always gonna be."

I lean forward and kiss him deeply, slightly tipping over both of our bowls. A few kernels fall out and I giggle as I retract from him. "We can go look at plans tomorrow after the beach. Okay?" He agrees, and we fall back into our comforting tradition.

Early the next morning, I feel the bed dip as Shawn gets up to prepare for our day together. It’s always like this. He gets up earlier than me and gets things ready so I can have an extra hour of sleep. Mainly because I’m up later than him making sure that everything is cleaned up before bed. We share the chores and responsibilities and it makes me happy that we’re doing good together.

Eventually, he wakes me and I get ready. As soon as I’m dressed and ready to go, we head down to his Jeep. Shawn carries the picnic basket and I carry the blankets. It’s still a little dark out, so it’s pretty chilly. But, we’ll make it to the beach just in time to watch the sunrise.

We arrive and I lay out a few blankets, saving the others to wrap around us in case it gets too cold. It was always warm when we celebrated our anniversary at the other beaches. But here in Toronto, it gets cold in October so we weren’t sure if we’d stay as long as we usually do.

Shawn sits down and holds his hand out to help me sit with him. I tuck my legs underneath myself and watch as the light begins to grow and he unpacks our picnic. I pull out the thermos and pour some hot chocolate to warm the tip of my nose. We sit like that for a few hours while the beach is empty and the sun fully rises.

These are the simple moments that I make sure to burn into my memory for when we both go back to our careers. I think about how much I’ve already accomplished since I graduated, and then realize that Shawn has been in his dream job since the age of 14. The only way I can ever look at him is in awe because he’s truly astonishing.

After that, we came home for holidays and special events like the Grammys or the Oscars. Then in March, we had a whole week off for the both of us while we attended our friends’ wedding. A year or so after Shawn and I got back together, Niall and Hailee got together. He just proposed in March of this year and they apparently didn’t want to have a long engagement.

So, Hailee asked me to be her Maid of Honor. Which I almost cried because of. It meant the world to me that she loves our friendship as much as I do. Of course, Shawn is Niall’s Best Man. The week was spent helping them prepare for the wedding and making sure everything would go smoothly. Because of this, Shawn and I didn’t really see each other much. Which was alright because this week wasn’t about us.

Both of them insisted that they didn’t want a bachelor or bachelorette party. Honestly, I was relieved because I suck at planning parties. And maybe I was a tiny bit relieved because that meant Shawn wouldn’t be out drunk somewhere having a stripper giving him a lap dance or something. They say before the wedding came quickly and we were getting ready for the rehearsal dinner in our hotel room.

I stand facing the mirror trying to get my bracelet to clasp with no luck. I hear Shawn enter from the bathroom, shoes already on because they’re tapping on the floor. “Need help, baby?” He asks sweetly.

“Yes, please,” I giggle as I turn around and hand him the bracelet while holding out my wrist. He easily clips it and I do a test shake to make sure it stays. When I finally look at him, my heart flutters. “Wow,” I breathe out, taking in his handsome figure.

He chuckles and pulls me to him by my hips. “Wow yourself, honey,” he mumbles as his soft lips sink into my cheek. I hum in content and slip my heels on before taking his hand in mine.

The entire rehearsal I could feel his gaze on me. Every time I glanced at him, he was already looking. Heat crawled up my neck every time because the look in his eyes was anything but innocent. As I sat next to Hailee I found myself crossing and uncrossing my legs, unable to get comfortable with the warmth growing there.

Watching him lick his lips as if he didn’t know what watching that mouth does to me, sent shivers down my spine. Then he would smirk as he noticed me shift and I knew that he was playing a game. Well, I could do the same. I flipped my hair over one shoulder and delicately ran my index finger along my collarbone as if it were a mindless action. I gently pulled my bottom lip between my teeth as I listened to the conversation around me.

Stealing a seductive glance at him, I see that he’s biting the inside of his cheek to prevent his smile while shaking his head incredulously. The sight brings a silent giggle to my lips as I wink at him. He breathes a huff of air out and rests his chin in his hand forlornly. The night wears on and I walk in front of him to unlock the door to our room, my hips swaying just a tad extra.

As soon as we’re inside, he grips my hips and spins me around. I giggle as my lips immediately go to his neck, sucking the sensitive skin there while his hands find the zipper of my dress. Soon, we’re both without clothes we love each other fervently into the night.

We woke early the next morning and kissed each other goodbye as we separated to help Hailee and Niall prepare for their big day. What surprised me most as we were getting her ready was how calm she seemed. There was no sign of pre-wedding jitters that most brides seemed to have. I sit to the side of her while her hair is being curled.

“Can I ask you something?”

She looks at me in the mirror. “Of course, y/n.”

“How are you so...sure? Like, you haven’t been together that long really...” I ask, not knowing if she understood what I was trying to say.

Her expression softens, she holds her hand up to stop the hair stylist and turns to me. “Are you asking how I know I'm sure that I love Niall enough to marry him...or are you asking how to know if you’re sure that you want to marry Shawn?”

“It just seems so...permanent and official. Won’t it be hard with your careers?” I question as I pick at my fingernails.

She takes my nervous hands in hers. “Life isn’t without hardships. But, I’m not doing it all alone, y/n. Niall and I are a team of two against the world...and so are you and Shawn.” She smiles at me and it eases the tension in my stomach. My lip curls upward and I pull her into a hug, careful not to mess up her makeup or hair.

In an hour or so after she’s ready, we all line up and get ready to walk. Shawn and I are assigned to each other since we’ll be walking out last before the flower girl and ring bearer and then Hailee. I stand on Shawn’s left, my burgundy dress just barely grazing the ground because of my heels. He holds out his arm to me with the sweetest smile and I take it while my left hand holds the small bouquet of white calla lilies.

I take deep breaths and I guess Shawn must’ve noticed. “Everything okay?” He whispers and I pull on a smile as I look at him and nod. Before he can reply, the doors open and we begin to walk slowly. We reach the front and stand on our respective sides.

Soon, Hailee has reaches the front and everyone in the room is smiling. We can all see how perfect they are for each other. She turns around and hands me her bouquet before the vows start. My heart is beating with excitement for her and my eyes water while I listen to their heartfelt promises.

I blink rapidly as not to ruin my makeup and I look at Shawn. For once, he’s not looking at me first. I can see the glisten in his eyes as Niall’s promises to Hailee touch him deeply. Then, he looks to me. Sentimental smiles spread across our lips and he mouths ‘I love you’. I mouth it back to him.

The reception is just as sweet and everyone’s toast is so special to the occasion. Pretty soon, the first dance starts and Shawn sits beside me as we watch them sway out on the floor. His arm drapes around me, fingers tracing patterns on my shoulder.

“So...” he begins cautiously. “Was there a reason you looked so nervous before the wedding or...”

I clear my throat and tear my eyes away from Niall and Hailee to look at him. My mouth softens into a happy smile and I lean forward and press my lips to the corner of his lips. “Not really. This wedding just has me thinking about a lot of things,” I admit casually.

“Oh...uh...” he begins nervously as a tiny look of fear passes over his eyes.

I chuckle. “Relax, I had just been asking Hailee how she was so sure that Niall was ‘the one’,” I say as my fingers make quotation marks.

“Y/n, I-“

“Honestly, everything is good. We’re good,” I assure him.

He sighs frustratedly. “I’m not good, y/n,” he says seriously.

“What? Why?” It’s my turn for fear and panic to run through me.

He looks deeply into my eyes, searching for something. “Because we’ve been together for three and a half years pretty much,” he starts.

“Gee. Sorry, you got such a lengthy prison sentence with me,” I tease with an incredulous grin because I don’t know where this is going.

He takes a deep breath, trying to remain on track. “Would you let me say what I’m trying to say?” I nod, shifting so I can see more of him. “I know that we’ve been together longer than they have and that’s probably making you wonder why I haven’t asked you yet...”

“I guess...” I answer

He nods, accepting my reply and continuing. “The truth is...I’ve been scared that proposing would make you run away. If you haven’t noticed, you used to be a huge flight risk...”

“Ah, but that was before you tied me down with a joint bank account and a shared phone plan,” I joke. He glares at me, wanting to laugh.

“Can you be serious for two seconds?” I shrug. He groans. “Y/n, I want to marry you. But, I don’t want you to feel trapped or whatever with me-“

I raise my hand. “Can I say something?” He looks at my hand and cracks a smile before nodding. I lower it and continue. “Shawn,” I sigh, “honestly, I’m not concerned about you proposing.” His face falls. “I mean, you kind of already did on my birthday...”

“No, I didn’t,” he shakes his head and knits his eyebrows together in confusion.

I laugh. “It wasn’t a proposal proposal. But you promised that we’d take care of each other forever,” I remind him. “So...I’ve kinda been walking around with the notion in my head that eventually we’d just get married,” I say truthfully.

He looks at me bewilderedly. “Are you serious?”

“I mean...yeah?” I shrug. “We share a phone plan now. We’re committed for life,” I say seriously before cracking a tiny grin.

He playfully shakes me by the shoulders. “You are impossible! Ya know that?” He chuckles. I giggle in return.

“So...is this solved now? We’re engaged and we’ll just pick a date to go make it official?” I question innocently.

“What? No! Y/n, I haven’t proposed...you don’t even have a ring,” he says in his concerned tone.

I place my hand on his thigh gently as I lean forward. “Baby, I don’t need a ring. And I don’t need some big proposal. I just need you and me. So, I’m set already,” I assure him. He tries to argue but I just shut him up with my lips. I hear Hailee on the microphone asking me to come do a friends dance with her so I pull away slowly.

The rest of the night was wonderful, and Shawn seemed to have relaxed after our conversation. We both left our blissful vacation and went back to being far too busy to see each other longer than a couple of days. Even for his birthday, we only had one night because it was in the middle of another tour for the both of us.

Shawn called me late one night, early for him, saying that James had called him asking if we could do a segment together. I, of course, agreed. Only to have Shawn admit to me a few weeks later that it would be on our anniversary. Despite my disappointment in breaking our tradition, I traveled to LA on my 27th birthday and showed up the next morning to film the segment.

I arrived and things were a little different than the last time I had been here. But, then again, so was I. I went through hair and makeup, this time they even gave me a manicure with French tips on my natural nails. Then, I was ushered to wardrobe. I was surprised because I was content with what I had on. But, they insisted on putting me in an ivory sleeveless lace dress that went to my knees. They also put me in wedges of the same color.

I was beginning to grow suspicious because even though this wasn’t what I had planned to wear, I knew it to be from my closet. The shoes as well. It was the outfit I had put in the back of the closet for whenever Shawn and I made time to go to the courthouse and get married.

Shawn and I got to be in the same dressing room, so we ate the snacks and made ourselves comfortable while we waited. He looked angelic as always in the black slacks and matching ivory dress shirt he had on. A slight tint of pink covered his cheeks and I noticed how he kept shaking his leg repeatedly.

“What are you up to, Mendes?” I question while squinting my eyes at him suspiciously.

His eyes widen. “What? Me? I’m not doing anything,” he rushes out. I open my mouth to answer but we hear the knock on the door signaling our introduction. Shawn hops up quickly to get it and begins talking as I slowly make my way over.

I duck under the arm that holds open the door and smile at the camera. “Hey, James! So nice of you to allow Shawn and I the same dressing room!”

“Well, of course! Although, I’m afraid if we hadn’t you’d have been in there anyway. Amiright?” He jokes from his place onstage.

I shrug playfully and the crowd laughs. We both wave as he moves on from us. About 10 minutes later, we’re brought out to an empty stage for the game part of the show. The cameras roll and James begins his spiel.

“Alright, ladies and gents! We have a special treat for you today as Shawn has been able to convince y/n to overcome her fears in a game of...NUZZLE WHAAA?” The crowd roars and s grip Shawn’s hand.

I laugh nervously. “I was assured that I would not be sticking my face into anything that I’m scared of! You’ll both be in huge trouble if I do!”

They laugh along and Shawn lets go to face me. “Wait...you’re supposed to be on my team to protect me!”

“Honey, you’ll be fine,” he assures me confidently.

I breathe shakily as Hailee comes up behind me and Niall behind Shawn. “Well, at least I know Hailee won’t let me die,” I joke before putting on the blindfold. As soon as it’s over my eyes, I hear the crowd laugh and James must be waving his hand in front of my face as a test.

Reaching my hand out, Hailee grasps it and my elbow to give me balance. “Alright and...BEGIN!” James announces. I slowly inch forward, trying to feel anything with my face but I can’t seem to find anything.

“Is there anything even there??” I laugh after a minute. This feels so ridiculous. My balance is horrible without my eyes. Plus, I’m in heels. The crowd laughs with me.

James speaks again. “Why don’t you try nuzzling a little lower, y/n. It’s a little bit shorter than you right now,” he offers.

I crouch down lower, trying to nuzzle my face into whatever is there. Honestly, they’ve probably got a bowl full of crickets out for me. Suddenly, the crowd begins screaming excitedly and cheering and I don’t know what’s happening. “What was that? What happened?”

“Just keep going, y/n,” Hailee giggles. I roll my eyes even though no one can see. The crowd remains loud and it’s concerning me.

Finally, my face bumps into the edge something. I nuzzle my face forward in tiny motions, not wanting to scare it if it’s a snake. It feels like a soft material, but it’s definitely hard. The edges are confusing me, this is harder than it looks.

“Ugh! I have no idea what this is!” I complain.

James giggles. “Hailee, help her sit on her knees and use her hands.”

“Why isn’t Shawn saying anything?” I gasp. “You better be sticking your face in whatever this is too, Mendes!”

I hear him chuckle in front of me as my knees feel the ground. Hailee carefully places my hands in front of my face and I wave them around until I find the object. It’s small. So small that someone has to hold it in their hand.

My fingers traces along the smooth material of what feels like a rounded box. “Okay! Is it a box?” The cheers that had died down suddenly shot up again to an impossible level of loud. I couldn’t even hear my own thoughts.

Suddenly it moves and I yelp in surprise. “IT’S NOT A BOX!!! IT MOVED!!” I cry.

“It is a box...just keep guessing y/n,” James urges.

When I put my hands out again it feels different. Like a hard mouth, with something sticking up out of the middle. The top of it has ridges and the sides that disappear into something feel cold and smooth. Deciding I can’t tell what it is, I move my hands back to the box and the hand holding it.

I slide my hand over their fingers, taking note of what feels like a ring on their pinky. “Who is this?” The crowd chuckles and cheers. My hand follows the connection of the fingers to the hand and then to the wrist where I can feel a cold band hanging around it.

“Oh, my god...” I suddenly can’t breathe. My mouth parts and the beating of my heart is so hard that the mics are sure to pick it up. I carefully trace my hand back over the object, trying to confirm what I suspect. With shaking fingers, I reach up and slowly take off the mask.

Shawn comes into view on his knee in front of me. In his hand is an open velvet box that holds a ring. His adorable face shows me a loving and hopeful look, with just a hint of cheekiness because he actually surprised me.

Immediately I feel tears pool in my eyes, so I bury my face in my hands as I sit fully back on my knees. I hear the crowd simultaneously ‘aww’ at the gesture. Emotion overcomes me and I don’t want to look up for fear that it might disappear.

“Y/n y/l/n,” he begins ceremoniously. Slowly, I lower my hands and look between the ring and him.

I swallow the thick feeling in my throat and sniffle. “Shawn Mendes, I said I didn’t need a big proposal or a ring,” I scold him and my laugh is watery. He grins, and it reaches his eyes causing my heart to palpitate.

“But you secretly wanted one, didn’t you?” He whispers conspiratorially. I nod the tiniest bit and he licks his lips. “Good. I’ll save the big long speech for the vows, so...will you marry me?”

I press my interlocked hands to my nose as I breathe deeply. My head begins to nod up and down and the brightest grin splits my lips. “Yes. Yes! Oh my god, yes!” I squeal in excitement.

His face scrunches up in pure happiness when he smiles and my body is just rushing with everything that feels amazing. He takes the ring out and carefully places it on my ring finger. Before he even finishes, I throw my arms around his neck to kiss him passionately.  My newly ringed hand tangles in his curls while my other keeps a firm hold on his cheek.

The crowd whistles and cheers as his fingers dig into my back. I’m assuming the show went on commercial because everyone starts bustling about moving decorations and an archway out onto the stage. I break away from Shawn momentarily.

“What’s everybody doing?” I ask quizzically. The smirk returns to his face and then I know. “We are not seriously getting married right here, right now!” I say incredulously.

He nods. “What better day than our anniversary?” He asks rhetorically. Before I can respond, Hailee drags me back to makeup to have my mascara and lipstick fixed.

“I can’t do this right now!” I exclaim in panic. “I don’t have Xander, or Benny, or even Anna!” I begin to spiral with how fast everything is happening.

Hailee chuckles. “We got it, y/n.”

I begin to ask what she means when Xander, Benny, and Anna walk through the door. “Oh my god!” I scream as I run over to them and sweep them up on a hug. I know what you’re thinking. What is Anna doing here? Well, I had to give her a second chance after I learned that she played a part in helping Shawn win me back.

“Commercial’s almost over,” Hailee warns. “You ready?” I look at her with wide eyes before I smile. I nod and I take my spot offstage as I wait for my cue.

On my side, stands Xander as my Man Of Honor, then Hailee and Anna and I see that Aaliyah has been flown in. It’s odd but those are my people. On Shawn’s side are Niall as his Best Man, then Taylor and a couple of his childhood friends. My smile falters as I realize that I don’t see Shawn.

Anxiety builds in my chest as the music starts and I’m about to walk out there by myself. One hand falls from the bouquet of my favorite flowers to my side as everyone looks at me expectantly. I freeze. My lungs inhale air shakily as I don’t know what to do. And then a warm and gentle hand slides into mine.

Looking down, I follow the hand up the arm and up to the man that owns it. I grin adoringly as I see Shawn standing there. He smiles softly at me before wrapping my hand in the crook of his elbow. My heart is beating giddily and I feel the warmth spread along my cheekbones as he begins to walk me down the aisle. He’s confident and poised and I’m not even looking ahead of me. I’m looking at him. I’ve never stopped admiring how gorgeous he is when he’s happy.

It’s weird having people cheer at my wedding and it’s only now occurring to me that several hundred strangers are watching us. And tonight, several million will be. We far each other and I give my bouquet to Xander to hold Shawn’s hands. James helps us proceed through vows easily, both of us crying much more than we intended to. Then, he pronounces us married and Shawn kisses me. The kiss was extremely delicate and I could tell that this was the single most scary but amazing moment of his life. I’m sure my lips conveyed that I felt the same way.

A Year and a Half Later

I sit alone in the early hours of the morning out on the porch swing facing the beach with a thick blanket wrapped around me. Cold wind nips at my exposed skin and I don’t know how long I’ve been sitting here like this. All I know is that I can’t set foot in that house again.

At least not until I’m feeling less confined. Less hostile toward him. Things were going fine...until they weren’t. And I can’t put all the blame on Shawn because I guess it should’ve come up before now. We should’ve talked about how the both of us felt and where we wanted this to go.

But, we didn’t.

So, here we are in the most beautiful house on the edge of a beach. We both agreed that the condo was getting cramped for all of our things. All of his music memorabilia kept spilling into my workspace and getting in my way. The man has more jeans than he ever wears and probably even more guitars than he plays. Our solution was to find a bigger place.

I would’ve been content with just an apartment with more rooms. But, Shawn was insistent that if we were going to move that it should be into a real house. We’re adults and he wanted to start living like one was the excuse he gave me. We’ve been living here for six months and he finally told me the real reason last night.

We had a huge argument and that led him to slam the door to our room and me to storm out onto the porch in my pajamas. I shake my head, remembering how quickly it became a screaming match. The first time he had ever risen his voice to my level, even louder than. He had no reason to be that upset. After all, what he was expecting of me was ridiculous.

I made up my mind long ago about it and it wasn’t going to change just because he said pretty please. It shocked me at how strongly he felt about it. So, strongly he said something even more hurtful to me than I have ever said to him.

~

Music blasts throughout the house as I finally, finish unpacking the last of our boxes into the fifth room. Shawn will be home later tonight, but I wanted everything to finally be unpacked before he gets here. The first room was our bedroom, the second and third for our separate workspaces and the fourth was the guest bedroom for when his family wants to visit.

That just left the fifth extra room to put all of our oddball stuff, I guess. I stand up and look around the room triumphantly. Just as I begin breaking down the boxes to throw them away, I see lights flash through the window. Shawn is finally home. The reason I wanted everything done before he got here is that he said he had important and life-changing news. He’s always so dramatic.

He opens the front door and I’m right there to leap into his arms, causing him to drop his suitcases. He chuckles and buried his nose in my neck. “I missed you so much,” he mumbles.

“I missed you more,” I promise as I pull back and peck him on the lips. He gives me another kiss as he sets me down. “So, what’s this big news?” I ask curiously.

He holds up a finger and looks around his feet for a small gift bag. After retrieving it, he takes me by the hand and leads me to the fifth room. “Okay, so I’ve been thinking a lot since our wedd-“ he stops as he looks around the room.

“Tada!” I exclaim as I spread my arms out in the middle of the room. “I unpacked the last of the boxes!”

He tries to hide the slight downturn of his lips. “I thought we said these boxes were going on the shed,” he reminds me.

I sigh. “Yeah, we did,” I agree. “But I just figured...why leave them out there to get dusty and covered in bugs when they could be in here!”

“Because I had a surprise planned for this room,” he admits.

I chuckle slightly sarcastically. “What? Gonna turn it into a room for all your music awards?” I tease. When he doesn’t answer me, I keep going. “Put a special plaque on the outside and have a velvet rope so no one who visits can enter?” I giggle.

“Y/n, I’m serious. It would’ve made sense after my news,” he sighs and sinks into a comfy chair I bought for the room.

I cross my arms and look down at him. “Okay, well what’s your news?”

He silently holds up the gift bag and I cautiously take it from him. I pull out the gift paper and pull out a tiny onesie that says “Music is in my DNA” and there’s a fingerprint made out of musical notes.

I gasp dramatically, “Shawn...are you pregnant?” Giggles fall from my lips until they’re silenced when I see that he’s unamused.

“Jesus, y/n,” he rolls his eyes and stands up, taking the onesie and putting it back in the bag. “That was my unsubtle way of saying that I want to have a baby with you.”

My smile fully vanished and my blood runs cold. “You what?”

“C’mon, honey. We have the perfect house, with enough room to spare...or we will when we move all this stuff into the shed...” he begins rambling. “Let’s have a baby.” In his eyes, there’s a kind of delicate dream that crushing would devastate him.

But, I don’t share that dream. “Shawn...I-“ I scoff, almost disbelieving that this came out of nowhere. “I don’t want to a baby right now...”

“Why not?” He questions.

I lift my shoulders and let them fall helplessly. “Neither of us are in a position to raise a child, babe. You will never be home. What, are you expecting me to stay home and raise it by myself?” I answer, my voice rising just a bit.

“No!” He replies just as heatedly. “That’s why I just told Andrew today that I’m slowing down with all the tours and stuff. No more back to back traveling around the world,” he explains.

I stare at him intensely. “Okay, but you’ve always said that when your music slows down you’d pick up acting. Has that changed? Because you going off to do movies or whatever is still being gone.” I know that my tone is becoming more and more hostile but I don’t like where this is going.

“I don’t know. But I’ll be here a majority of the time, y/n,” his stern voice his telling me that this subject won’t be easily laid to rest.

“What if we’re both booked at the same time? I just started my career, Shawn! I’m not giving it up so you can have a kid!” At this point, I’m slightly yelling and I leave the room because it’s suffocating me.

I hear his footsteps close behind me. “Are you serious? WE! So, WE can have a kid. I don’t understand why you’re being like this!” He yells right back.

“Because maybe you’ve been going strong for thirteen years and you want a ‘break’ to have a kid, but I’ve barely been in my career for six. And I love it! I get that you’ve already lived the most exciting parts of your life, but I’m just getting started! How can you ask me to give up my career for this??”

He groans in frustration. “I’m not asking you to! You can still do your job without traveling the world constantly!”

My fingers grip the roots of my hair and I want to pull all the strands out. “OH! So you expect me to not only give up my body to another living thing for ten months, you ALSO expect me to be the one juggling working from home and being a stay-at-home mom?!”

“I WILL BE HERE WITH YOU!!” He yells back at me.

I inhale deeply. “YOU DON’T GET IT, SHAWN! I DO NOT WANT TO HAVE A KID EVER!!!”

“You...” he stutters. “You don’t want kids?” His voice sounds broken, and the dream is crushed. But, there’s no going back.

I clear my throat which is hoarse from screaming. “No,” I whisper. “I never have. I guess we should’ve talked about kids sooner.”

“Yeah,” he scoffs. “Would’ve saved us a lot of time and trouble, huh?” He places his hands on his hips as he looks down.

The words pierce my heart like sharp jabs from a needle. “What’s that supposed to mean?” My voice almost cracks because I suddenly realize that this is the dealbreaker for him. Out of all the rest of our problems and my insecurities, this is what he won’t compromise on.

“It means...” he sighs aggressively as he looks at me with cold eyes. “I never would’ve married you.” With that, he storms back to our room and slams the door.

I choke on my breath and it feels as though a fist is twisting my insides. Grabbing the nearest blanket, I run out onto the porch and settle into the padded porch swing.

~

I lay down on the bench, my head comforted by a big decorative pillow. The warm tears contrast against my icy skin and I should probably go inside before I get sick. I shiver slightly as twilight begins to creep into the atmosphere and I realize I’ve been sitting out here all night. A yawn escapes my mouth and soon I’ve dozed off to sleep.

The sound of a bird chirping annoyingly nearby wakes me. I squint against the rays of light and it doesn’t look like it’s quite noon yet. Sitting up, I stretch and rub my neck where I’ll most definitely have a tiny crick for the rest of the day. For a second, I feel content being able to look at the beach from the comfort of my home. Home. My heart aches all over again as I remember last night.

I slowly and quietly re-enter the house, not wanting to wake Shawn if he’s not up. Creeping around the house, I crack open the door to the bedroom and see that he’s not there. I open it further and enter regularly. Nothing’s gone, or at least not that I can tell. I peep through the blinds and see that his Jeep is gone from the driveway.

Great. I grab the boxes from the spare room and begin dropping all of my things into them. All the important things first, things that I can’t live without and then so on. I’ve got almost all the boxes filled up and ready to go when I hear a door close in the driveway. My entire body tenses up, I’m not ready for a round two of that kind of fighting.

“Y/n?” His honey-smooth voice calls from the front door. I stand still, maybe he’ll leave and then I can leave while he’s gone. “Baby, your car is still in the driveway. I know you’re home.”

I sigh. “Goddamnit,” I whisper to myself before answering slightly louder. “I’m in the spare room!” My eyebrows furrow worriedly as I look around at all my full boxes, I try to start moving them into the closet when he comes through the doorway.

“What are you doing?” Despite knowing he was coming, I still jump in surprise as I back away from the boxes looking guilty. “Are you moving out? After one fight?”

I chew on the inside of my lip angrily. “Excuse me? You’re the one who said you wished you’d never married me so I’m just saving you the trouble,” I say every word dripping in my pain.

He closes his eyes momentarily. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that-“

“But, you did. And you can’t take it back.” My voice wavers slightly.

He steps forward as if to caress my cheek, but I deflect his hand with mine. “I wish I could. I-I didn’t mean it, honey...I promise you that.”

“But, you did,” I mumble sadly. “Because you’re not gonna change your mind about being a dad.” I shrug. “And I’m not gonna change my mind about having kids. At least, not soon enough for you.” Silent tears drip over my eyelashes and run down to my lips. I roll them together as I shakily pull my rings from my finger.

His face crumbles watching me do this. I hold them out to him but he refuses to take them. “Stop it. I’m not leaving you because of this,” he declares. “You just said that you weren’t gonna change your mind soon enough for me. Does that mean you might eventually?”

“I-“ I look at the ceiling before back into his eyes. “God. I don’t know, Shawn. You shouldn’t have to wait for me to be ready when you’re ready now.”

He shakes his head. “I don’t want kids with just anyone. So if I have to wait for you to be ready then I will,” he promises, his voice trembling.

“Shawn-“ I begin tiredly.

“No. No, I know where you’re coming from,” he starts and I stand still, listening. “I’m not gonna ask you to stop doing what you love. And if by the time you’re ready to fully settle down, it’s too late to have our own...we can always adopt.”

The statement surprises me and my mouth parts. He made us seem like the kids had to be biological. “You’d adopt?” He nods, stepping closer and I let him. “Shawn, this was never about me giving up my career or even changing how I do it. I don’t care about traveling the world. I’ve just never...wanted to have my own...”

“Why?” He questions simply.

I sit down on the floor and play with tufts of the carpet. He quickly sits down in front of me, knee to knee. “I’ve just always told myself that I’d rather adopt older kids. There are so many kids who need families and don’t get adopted because they’re not shiny and new. Maybe I’d want to have one of my own someday, but I mainly just want to give love to those who have never had it.”

“Honey,” I look up from the ground at the sound of the loving nickname he’s always called me. “I do not care whether we physically make the kid or not,” he chuckles as he reaches out and strokes my cheek. “I just want a family with you.”

“Really?” He nods.

“And I have the perfect place to start,” he says getting up quickly and moving toward the front of the house.

I stand up and follow suit, my mouth pursed in curiosity. “Shawn, what are you talking about? You didn’t go out and kidnap someone’s kid did you?” I ask, half-joking.

He laughs loudly from the porch and when he re-emerges, he has a little bundle of something curled up in his arms. I stop dead in my tracks. “Is that a-“

“Mhm,” he nods, a proud little smile on his face as he looks down at the puppy in his arms.

“Shawn Peter Raul Mendes! YOU ARE ALLERGIC TO DOGS!” I remind him incredulously.

He shrugs. “This one is supposed to be hypo-allergenic!” He scratches the puppy’s neck delicately and it turns its little muzzle from his chest to look at me.

“Oh my god, give it,” I demand as I reach my arms out and take it from him instantly. I nuzzle my nose against its nose and it licks me all over my face leaving me smelling like puppy breath. Shawn chuckles as I sink to the floor to play with it. “Question.”

He raises his eyebrows as he sits down next to me. “Yeah?”

“You went out and bought a dog as a solution to our fight?” I look at him skeptically. He blushes and seems like he doesn’t know what to say. “You are an excellent problem-solver.” I grin and he breathes a sigh of relief.

He clears his throat. “Adopted, though. She’s from the pound.”

“Aw,” I whimper as I give her lots of kisses. “I know exactly what to name her!” Shawn looks at me expectantly. “Erato, of course.”

“Another muse?” He asks. I nod giddily. “Which one?”

I scoot closer to him and he rests an arm behind my back. “The muse of love poetry. Duh,” I roll my eyes like it should be obvious.

“Duh,” he agrees contently as he presses his wonderful lips to my temple and then rests his head on mine. We both giggle as we watch Erato hop around the living room sniffing her new home.

“Love?” I ask and Shawn lifts his head so I can look at him properly. “After I’m done with the next tour...I wanna start a family with you.”

He beams down at me. “Yeah? Adopted or biological? Know what? Doesn’t even matter!” He stands up excitedly pulling me with him as he laughs loudly. “WE’RE GONNA BE PARENTS!!!” He yells to the empty house causing Erato to bark excitedly.

“Yes, we are,” I say in a baby-talking voice to our puppy. She barks and hops around more. The house fills with tiny barks and loud laughter as Shawn puts on music to celebrate.

He twirls me around and then sways me back and forth with our hips pressed together as Erato pounces at our feet trying to dance with us. I grab Shawn by his jaw and pull him down to meet my lips. We kiss tenderly, deeply appreciating that we could’ve easily lost each other. The kiss was a reminder that we had to communicate and compromise where we could. Hailee was right. We were a team of two against the world.

Our kiss is broken apart by the sound of an adorable whine. We laugh and pick Erato up, her tail wagging ecstatically. Well, a group of three against the world.

For the time being.

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